Age 17, Changing
Fatin POV (Age 17)
There was nothing new about Fatin and Leah changing around one another. They had known each other since they were seven and often slept over at one another’s houses. Changing became a thing neither batted an eyelash at because it was simply something they had always done.
However, with time things changed. One of those things was Fatin’s emotions towards Leah, going from thinking about kissing her to thinking about… well… other things. Many of their friends were sexually active and found it odd that Leah and she weren’t. It didn’t bother Fatin at all, though she hoped one day they would, she was just happy to see Leah comfortable and knew she would initiate it when ready.
When they changed now, Fatin averted her eyes. It wasn’t like when they were kids throwing hoodies at each other and running around yelling at each other for stealing their good clothes. It was Leah’s pink cheeks as she tugged off her shirt or Fatin clearing her throat when she heard Leah’s clothing hitting the floor.
It was different.
Things changed.
It was a Wednesday afternoon when the pair got back home soaked because Fatin’s car was getting fixed; after she scraped the bumper on a damn tree whilst trying to fit it into a tiny space. (Whoops.)
It had to happen on a day when a storm hit, and as such they both made it back shaking and drenched as they ran up the stairs to Leah’s room, shutting the door behind them.
“You look like a swamp monster,” Fatin joked, tugging on the hem of Leah’s sodden t-shirt.
“You don’t look any better asshole.” Leah parted from her to grab them both a set of sweats and a t-shirt, chucking them at her mate. “Your mascara is fucked.” She laughed, running her thumb along Fatin’s undereye. “Let me grab some towels.”
Leah returned a moment later, just as Fatin was stripping off her shirt. She flung it down at the floor with a huff, noting her mate standing in the doorway with eyes focussed lower than normal.
Fatin didn’t say a word, remaining still with a slight smirk as Leah dragged her eyes across her form only covered by underwear. However, after two minutes she decided to rein her in a bit. “Leah, could I have the towel you’re holding?”
“Oh,” Leah cleared her throat. “Yeah, sure.” A hand shot out, passing the towel to Fatin as Leah’s cheeks and neck dusted red. Slowly Leah began to follow her, peeling off her sodden hoodie and trousers followed by her shirt.
There was a tension in the air that had Fatin’s eyes glued to her for once. Normally they would both stare at a wall but something at that moment tilted.
She felt her heart pounding in her chest as her eyes trailed over Leah as she dried her hair. Felt her hands growing clammy and her posture straightening out.
Leah dropped the towel to the floor and reached for her sweats, pulling them on. Fatin followed, tugging her own on too. However, as Leah’s hand reached for her shirt she hesitated, fingers curling in and dropping to her side.
There was a hesitation there that spoke of her thoughts, Leah rarely acted so stunted when she was alone with Fatin. Yet now she was nervous, off as she turned back to Fatin and walked towards her.
“Hey,” Leah said.
“Hi.”
Leah took Fatin’s hand in her own, slowly guiding it to her skin. “Is this okay?”
“Yes,” Fatin replied, though her voice was scratchy as she spoke.
With an audible swallow, Leah nodded and leaned in to kiss Fatin. She hummed into it, chasing Leah’s lips as she bunched the waist of her mate’s sweatpants in her hand. Emotions welled within her, changing as they had for months now. The same way they always did when Leah asked for more whatever that more may be.
Fatin lost herself as Leah bit her lip, walking her back until Leah fell onto the bed. She let her own hand trail across her abdomen, nails scratching as Leah hooked a leg around her waist.
“Fatin-”
“Yeah?”
“It’s okay. You can.” Leah pulled Fatin’s hand higher until it cupped her chest.
Shutting her eyes her hand tightened briefly, it’s not like she had never felt boobs before, but these weren’t her own. “Holy shit.”
Leah burst out into laughter, head dropping back against the bed. “That good?”
“Oh, literal perfection babe.”
Shaking her head Leah pulled her back down, forgetting about their shirts that lay discarded on the floor as they kissed.