Covered
Kimberly Caldwell/Carmen Rasmussen, PG-13


Every night backstage, Kimberly couldn't help but smile as she watched Carmen carefully tug on her shirt, pulling the bottom hem over the top of her pants. She would pull on her cap sleeves, smoothing them out, checking in the mirror to make sure her shoulders were covered.

"Don't you think this is all pretty blasphemous?" Kim asked as they lay in bed, tracing her fingers around Carmen's belly button, trailing up to where the curve of her breasts began.

Carmen looked up at her. "What do you mean?"

Kim smiled down at Carmen, planting a quick kiss on her collarbone. "I mean, it just seems really weird. You're all super-conservative Mormon when it comes to the show, having the costume people track down short-sleeved shirts to match ours and all that. You won't even wear skirts!" Kim gave a low laugh, and rolled onto Carmen, straddling her hips. "But look at you now."

Carmen grinned at Kim, running a hand down Kim's thigh to rest on her own stomach. "Weird, isn't it?"

Kim stared down at Carmen, taking in her small but full breasts, the soft pale skin of her stomach, the thin litheness of her hips. She smiled again. "It works for me."

Carmen pushed herself up on her elbows and brought her lips to Kim's, then slowly pulled Kim down to lay on top of her. After a few moments, she broke the kiss. "Works for me, too."

And every night backstage, Carmen would remember Kim's hands and mouth on her body, and carefully pull on her clothes. And her eyes would meet Kim's, and they would both smile.




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