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Malia and Cora aren’t two people who play coy.
It had been almost immediately obvious when they began to like each other, the two of them being hurricanes of dangerous intentions; Stiles had told Cora to be careful with Malia and Derek had told Malia to be careful with Cora, and they are, and they aren’t.
They had been careful in the ways Cora would bring Malia big cups of coffee and Malia would stare up at her through her eyelashes, in the way they whispered together silently at the library, in the way they’d stand in the skate park and Malia would light Cora’s cigarettes, the skin of their fingers brushing together. They were careful the first time they kissed, in the frigid January air outside of a concert line. They had been huddled together for warmth, holding on to each other so tight there was no space left between them, and Cora had taken Malia’s face and kissed her hard. Carefully, gently, they had run their hands through each other’s hair and danced their fingertips across each other’s hips, giggling into their smiles.
They aren’t careful in the way Cora always pushes Malia against the stall walls, biting the skin on her neck. They aren’t careful when they return to their bed, the collision leaving Malia’s head spinning as she kisses Cora on her bed, pinning her arms over her head. They aren’t careful in the way they race their skateboards in the middle of the street, the way they down shots of vodka in the bathrooms of every clothing store they go to, the way they grind at every concert they went to, even during the slow songs.
They aren’t going to be carefultonight, on their three-month anniversary, marking the very first time they will actually have sex.
Malia wakes up early in the morning as usual. She kisses Cora’s forehead, leaving her to sleep in late as she usually did. She puts her glasses on, wraps her arms tight against her chest as she runs into the kitchen to make coffee. She is surprised as she swings open the door and sees Derek and Stiles awake. Both of them stare at her. Derek and Cora share an industrial loft five minutes from Venice Beach, the neighborhood where all the kids find themselves if they can’t find their identity. Malia and Stiles had basically moved in, even though they don’t bother to help with rent.
Derek’s arms are folded across his chest; his jaw is set in that angry way of his. She would usually be self conscious with a boy staring as she is so partially clothed, but Derek isn’t interested in her body. Malia glances toward Stiles, who is smirking, an amused look in his eyes. Neither of them are dressed either; Stiles is in boxers with cheesy little skulls printed on them, a long-sleeve shirt, and a backwards hat and Derek only has ripped sweatpants on. Malia realizes they had left their bed to catch her this early.
“Good morning,” she says, her voice cracking.
“Cora still asleep?” is Derek’s response.
Malia blinks, taken aback by his tone. He sounds like a disapproving parent when he’s usually kind to her.
She looks at Stiles, who is still smiling.
“What the hell is going on?”
“Is Cora still asleep?” Derek asks again.
“Yes!”
“Good. Come sit down.”
“I was going to –“
Stiles is shaking his head, pressing his lips together, telling her not to argue.
She crosses the room, shivering in her big Ramones shirt, sitting in the recliner across from Derek and Stiles and curling her bare legs into her chest.
Derek clasps his hands together in front of him, the morning sun gleaming off his sleeve of tattoos. He looks intense, leaning over and staring at her, while Stiles keeps smiling, relaxing against the back of the couch with his arm dangling behind Derek. They are two opposites, but perfectly in sync, as always.
“There’s no easy way to start this,” Derek says. “So we’re going to just jump in. Cora has had sex with girls before, and you haven’t.”
Malia blinks several times, but their expressions don’t change. “Is this a sex talk?” she says abruptly, her voice rising.
Derek shakes his head while Stiles nods.
“Guys, I –“ she chokes on laughter. “Guys, I don’t need a sex talk.”
“We know you guys are planning to have sex and we want you to be ready,” Derek explains.
Stiles finally reacts to his, his face changing into a mask of shock. “Ready? Derek, she’s having sex, not going into battle!”
Derek gives him a disapproving look. “You promised to keep your mouth shut, Stiles.”
“We’re her friends, not her fucking parents!”
“Support me here, Stiles!”
“Would you guys shut up?” Malia yells in a whisper. She glances toward the door Cora is behind, frowning, half-expecting Cora to barge out.
When she doesn’t, Derek speaks up again. “I just think this would go a lot easier if Stiles would support me and keep his mouth shut.”
"Sorry, Malia, Derek is apparently a forty-year-old mom this early in the morning.”
Malia laughs asDerek gets up, stomping into his room, turning around to glare at them both before he slams the door.
“Aw, come on, baby!” Stiles yells after him. “I’m just trying to lighten the tension.”
Malia offers to make him coffee after a few seconds. Stiles sits at the counter, tapping a beat on the counter. As Malia waits for her favorite French vanilla flavored decaf to brew, she remembers with a jolt that Stiles and Cora have hooked up at least once, before Derek finally made a move on Stiles and before Malia had even moved to LA.
“Stiles,” she says, “I hope this isn’t weird, but – you’ve hooked up with Cora before, right?”
Stiles clears his throat, adjusting his hat. His fringe is sticking out of the hole in the cap, very uneven and messy, maybe even a little greasy. “Yeah. Twice.”
Malia swallows, pouring coffee into two bright yellow mugs. She takes her coffee black, but Stiles likes a lot of sugar in his.
“Well, like –" she sighs. “Any tips?”
He looks at her, his wretched amusement dancing in his eyes. “You know I haven’t been with a girl in – ten months, right?”
“Yeah, but you must remember some things.”
She watches him stir sugar into his coffee, sucking on his spoon thoughtfully. “Pull her hair,” he says. “And bite her.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. Plus,” he makes a very serious expression. “Oral.”
“Okay, Stiles.”
“Lots of it.”
“Okay.”
“I mean, like – an ungodly amount.”
“Stilinski.”
Stiles takes a sip of his coffee, satisfied.
Cora’s bedroom door swings open and Malia glances toward her; she looks absolutely beautiful, her hair a mess and in a black bra with her flannel pajamas. She glances wildly around the room until she focuses on Malia and Stiles.
“Oh,” Cora smiles. “Hello.”
She crosses the room and hugs Malia from behind, Malia’s heart racing as she kisses her neck. “What has Stiles been bothering you about, my love?” she whispers into Malia’s ear.
“He’s jealous of our wild passion.”
Stiles shakes his head. “God help me, I love lesbians.”
Cora growls at him. He picks up his coffee mug and walks toward Derek’s bedroom, throwing a smile over his shoulder.
“Enjoy her,” he says.
“Oh, I will,” Cora replies, even though Malia knows he was talking to her.
*************
Later that morning, Lydia and Allison knock hard on the door. They’re laughing hard as soon as Cora opens the door, leaning against each other.
“Oh, look,” Cora says sarcastically. “Lovesick lesbians have showed up.”
“That’s rude,” Malia calls from the living room. She knows Lydia and Allison won’t care; it’s the perfect description. They are even dressed alike; wearing tank tops, short high-waisted shorts, and ripped fishnets with combat boots. They walk in, holding hands, and Malia gets up to hug them.
“Where are Derek and Stiles?”
“Out,” Cora yells, banging things in the kitchen, looking for the remaining packet of vegetarian Ramen noodles. “Lunch, I think. Malia, they're not in the pantry.”
"Check by the cans, my dear."
Cora bangs more things and shouts in victory.
“We want to take you out,” Lydia whispers to Malia when she and Allison sit on the couch. “We have things to talk about.”
“What?” Malia asks, pointing her question to Allison, but Allison only smiles mysteriously and fixes a falling bobby pin.
Allison and Lydia, cordial as always, ask them about their plans for the night and where they’re going and if they want to get dinner before they go off alone. After a few minutes of random conversation, Lydia, settled between Allison’s legs, drops the strip of ripped material on her Joy Divison tank top and declares she and Allison have to take Malia out to get lunch.
“Why can’t I come?” Cora asks around a big bite of Ramen.
Allison smiles down at her, tucking her black tank top back into her shorts. “You’re already eating.”
"I’m fine, I’m not even hungry,” Malia says.
Lydia, even though she’s smiling, looks very threatening as she says, “You’re coming with us.”
Cora glances between the two of them, sucking down her noodles. Malia, not wanting to dispute Lydia any further, kisses Cora’s cheek and runs into her room to put on her jeans and Cora’s Nirvana shirt. Cora bids them a safe trip, rolling her eyes as Lydia promises her they’ll take good care of Malia.
Malia soon realizes why they were so secretive; as soon as they get served their Thai noodles, Lydia clears her throat and says, “So, your anniversary is tonight, Malia.”
“Yep.”
“And you guys are going to – uh,” she glances at Allison, who nods, biting her lip around her smile. “Consummate?”
Malia swallows a bite, eying them both. “Do you mean fuck?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah, we’re probably going to fuck."
“And have you fucked yet?” Allison says. Lydia gives her a look.
Malia shrugs, smiling, even though her face is burning. “No, not really. Just – ah, made out, dry-humped, stuff like that.”
Lydia tucks her hair behind her ear. “So, I bet you’re wondering how to have sex with a girl.”
“Not really, no –"
“As your friendly neighborhood lesbians, we’re going to tell you.”
She shakes her head. “You really don’t have to do that.”
Allison laughs and hides her smile behind her hands as Lydia gives her another look. Lydia leans forward and takes Malia’s hand, like she has a big secret to share. “Look, we know what your thinking. It should come natural, it’ll be easy, just move my fingers and my tongue, but that’s how straight boys think. When you’re actually having sex with her, it’s an entirely different experience.”
“Lydia, please stop.”
“Don’t be a prude, Malia. I’m just being honest.”
Allison touches Lydia's hand, playing with the many rings Lydia has on her fingers. "We know you must be nervous, is all," Allison says gently. "You don't have to be. You can ask us anything. That's all we want to say."
Both of them look at Malia expectantly. She can only smile, nods, a new nervousness filling her.
**************
Cora pulls Malia through the door as soon as it's open, wrapping her arms around her waist, kissing her with a force only Cora Hale can muster.
Malia breathes in hard when Cora lets her, smiling. "Hello to you too."
"I just missed you, kiddo. My brother and his gay thing brought us flowers."
Malia worms out of Cora's arms and looks toward the kitchen; a big vase of pink and yellow daisies and carnations sits on the counter.
"Oh, how nice."
Stiles steps out of Derek's bedroom, playing with a Slinkie, dressed now in black jeans and short sleeve Obey t-shirt. "You like them?"
"They're nice."
Cora sits down at the counter, playing with the petal of a daisy. "I don't know. My dark punk soul would have probably preferred black roses."
"Next time," Stiles says. He glances at Malia, grinning. "Think of them as an apology."
"For what?" Cora says immediately, glancing between them.
"Nothing," Stiles says. "Are you guys going to need the apartment tonight?"
Malia raises her eyebrows. "What do you think?"
"I'm thinking that you guys will read the Bible instead of doing sinful things, Malia."
"Just be sure you're both out of the house. I plan to do a lot of sinning." Cora pulls Malia into her lap, the both of them giggling as they nearly tumble off the stool.
"Lesbians, man."
"I can't get enough of them."
**********
Malia and Cora play music through the apartment, dancing around Cora's room instead of getting dressed. Cora sits on Malia's legs, Malia doing her hair, when Derek and Stiles exit their room, the both of them dressed a bit nicer; Stiles has taken his hat off (it's in his pocket) and sort of relaxed his fringe, combed down on his forehead now. Derek is in all black, his combat boots shaking the floor with every step.
"You guys going out?" Cora calls.
"Yep. Dinner and a movie, like a nice hetero couple."
"How sweet."
"We told you, we're going to leave the house empty." Derek glances at Stiles, who grins. "Also, Derek has something he wants to say."
Derek looks hesitant and Stiles nods, egging him on.
"I'm sorry, Malia," Derek says.
Malia pauses, smiling. "It's fine." Stiles claps Derek on the back.
"What's fine?"
"Everything's fine."
Cora glances between them all, her expression not revealing any of her thoughts. Finally, she rolls her eyes. "You guys are fucking idiots."
Derek and Stiles leave, Derek giving them their blessing for a lovely night. Malia finishes braiding Cora's hale and they put dresses on; dark blue and black and their combat boots.
They hold hands as they walk through the city, laughing as they whisper in each other's ear. They don't stop walking until they find themselves on Venice beach and decide to go to dinner at a tiny diner right next to the movie theater Stiles and Derek are at.
The routine is as usual, being too loud in the diner, flirting with the pretty blonde waitress, running into the girls' bathroom to share a bottle of rum and a cigarette. They kiss inside the bathroom but Cora pulls Malia back to their booth before Malia can let her hands wander.
She is surprised when Cora scoots into the same side of the booth with her, nearly squeezing her against the wall. They haven't ordered any food, only two vanilla milkshakes.
Cora isn't looking at her when Malia feels Cora's hand on her knee, cold and her fingers moving. She says nothing as Cora's hand moves along her thigh.
Cora finally turns to look at her, an eyebrow raised, right before she reaches the bottom of her dress. Malia bites down on her lip. She realizes doesn't totally care if anyone sees and nods slightly.
She feels Cora's fingers against her, warm, inviting. Cora strokes little circles around her clit, staring at Malia's face, smirking as Malia tries to fight to keep her expression normal.
Malia grinds her hip against Cora's fingers, craving her hands all over her. She feels it deep inside her as Cora rubs against the wet material with her knuckles. Malia stares at Cora, wanting to be home with her right now, her expression wild. She thinks Cora feels it too as her fingers retract.
"Come home with me, love," Cora whispers, tilting her head foreword and kissing her jawline.
"Absolutely," Malia's voice is hushed, laden with something dark. Cora takes her hand, kisses her palm and pulls her out of the booth.
They leave a twenty dollar bill on the table and run the way home, stopping only to dig their hands into each other's hair and kiss on the sidewalk, leaving each other gasping for breath and then running again.
As soon as they cross the threshold into the apartment and have kicked off their boots, Cora has her hands tight around Malia's waist and is kissing her hard, leading Malia by the tug of her hands and mouth. The lights are all off and Malia has never felt this mixture of thrill and fear, the wetness from earlier still in her underwear. It's not her first time ever having sex, but it feels like it is. She digs her hands in Cora's hair and bites on her lower lip; Cora's body tightens up in response. She pulls Malia harder against her, her hands running over Malia's lower back.
Malia unzips Cora's dress and watches it fall in a black puddle to the ground. She bends her head and kisses Cora's chest, letting Cora unzip her own dress.
Cora kisses her jaw, her cheek, her neck, until Malia's eyelids flutter and she's digging her nails into the skin of Cora's neck. Cora finds her mouth again and bites down on her lip, smiling as she draws out a moan.
Malia pulls Cora toward the bedroom, needing her now, loving the feel of Cora's hands over her and wanting more with everything inside her.
Cora pushes her on the bed after a few minutes of wild kissing - she lays against her and Malia rolls her on to her side. They kiss again, hard, fast, hair getting in each other's mouths; Malia feels herself throb when Cora presses her groin against her and kisses her neck again, sucking on the skin there.
Malia suddenly decides to take action. She rolls over, moving Cora on to her back, and reaches down, sliding one finger inside Cora's underwear. Cora's eyes have gone wide, but there is expectancy in them now, and Malia curls one finger inside her gently. She listens to the sharp intake of Cora's breath and uses the moisture on her fingers to wet her clitoris. She rubs there in small circles, biting down on Cora's lip, her jaw, her neck, making Cora breathe hard under her and she loves the sounds she's making, realizes Cora squirms a lot.
When she is sure Cora is ready, she bends down, nearly sliding off the bed, and presses her tongue into Cora's folds. Cora sits up in surprise then sprawls back down as Malia begins to move her tongue.
She experiments with many things here, grabbing Cora's hips and squeezing them whenever Cora tries to squirm. She uses her fingers as Cora begins to buck her hips again, her pants and moans turning wild, and feels her entire orgasm shake through her body.
Malia sits up and climbs on top of Cora as Cora moans out her name, feeling victorious. A few seconds later, while Cora is still catching her breath, Cora grabs Malia and flips her on her back, sliding her fingers and her tongue against Malia until Malia is shaking with her own orgasm, begging for more, and Cora doesn't stop until Malia's in tremors.
When they've both relaxed, they snuggle together, telling each other jokes and laughing at themselves.
Only a few minutes have passed when Malia realizes she forgot to pull Cora's hair. She rolls over to start again.