Work Text:
It's storming outside and Maia's a hundred and fifty-three pages deep into Pride and Prejudice when there is a sudden knock on her door.
Every horror movie she's ever seen sets off alarms in her head, but, being a werewolf, she's not the slightest bit concerned as she folds down the edge of the page she's on and gets up to answer the door. She does become a bit concerned, however, when she sees Clary Fairchild standing in the dimly-lit hallway of her apartment building, soaking wet. Maia guesses there isn't a waterproof rune, and then says the thought out loud instead of a greeting.
Clary doesn't seem to mind. "Hey, Maia," she says casually, as if it's not two in the morning and she's not getting Maia's welcome mat wet. "This a bad time?"
"For what, exactly?" Maia asks, but steps aside to let Clary in. "Hang on, I'll get you a towel."
As she makes her way down the hall to do so, Maia lets herself wonder what the hell Clary is doing in her house this time of night and why she didn't bother to bring an umbrella. Her best guess is that a shadow-hunting mission went badly, and Maia's place was the closest.
Then again, how does Clary know where she lives? They've built up an acquaintance (someone very generous and very desperate might even call it a friendship) based on mutual respect and mutual ex-boyfriends, and they sometimes chat about Luke or the weather or drinks Clary's not technically allowed to order. And Maia finds herself thinking, often, that Clary is very pretty, and pretty badass when it comes to using a dagger or telling someone off. But they're not close by any means. They don't even have each other' phone numbers saved. And yet Clary is here and not at Jace’s or Simon’s or Luke’s or Magnus’s.
Perhaps she needs something only Maia can give her. But if that was the case, she would have her Shadowhunter posse with her, and they’re nowhere in sight. No, this isn’t about work. It’s personal.
"Thanks..." Clary says breathlessly when Maia hands her a towel. She takes a moment to smile at the R2D2 printed on it before using it to dab the water out of her hair. Even soaking wet and shivering in the cold she's gorgeous.
Maia looks away.
"Thanks," Clary says again, holding out the towel towards Maia.
"No problem," Maia takes it and tosses it in the direction of the couch. "So…you gonna tell me what you're doing here?"
Clary's smile hardens. "Right," she says, taking a deep breath. "Yeah. I have to tell you something." And she looks nervous enough about whatever it is that Maia motions for her to take her shoes off and join her in the living room.
Maia's apartment is small, and could be described as "cozy" by polite people. To Maia, it's just small. But it has heat and electricity and a bed big enough for two, so she doesn't complain.
Clary sits down on the couch, pulling her wet hair down on one side. She's taken off her leather jacket (she must have a collection of those) and Maia can see that the rain has gotten to her tank top too, and possibly even her bra. And once again, Maia has to avert her eyes.
"I broke up with Jace."
Maia looks back at Clary, only slightly shocked. "About time," she says without thinking, and is relieved when Clary chuckles along with her. "Why? What happened?"
"Nothing..." Clary shrugs. "It just wasn't working out. It's all still weird with the whole sibling thing, and it was happening too fast, and he loves me more than I love him." She looks up at Maia with a small, adorable grin on her face and shrugs. "And there was one other thing."
For some reason unbeknownst to her, Maia can suddenly feel her heart racing. She leans against the wall to keep her balance. "What thing?" she asks, trying to keep her voice from shaking. She's learned by now that it's best not to get her hopes up about things she can't control.
Clary doesn't look nervous. In fact, she looks determined, driven...okay, she looks a little terrified. But mostly driven. She laughs and shakes her head. "I just told Simon this. You're gonna be the second person to know."
Know what?! Maia screams in her head. Stop teasing me, Fray, and just say it! She leans forward towards Clary, letting all that show on her face without actually saying it.
Clary takes a deep breath. She looks Maia in the eyes. "I'm gay."
Maia blinks. It's not so much that she was expecting it as she was hoping it was the case. Ever since that night in the Hunter's Moon, watching her watch Simon perform, the drink that Maia bought her in her hand. At the time she'd thought she was just caught up in how impressive Clary had been against the Inquisitor.
But the night had ended, and Maia had slept with Jace, and the feeling hadn't gone away. Now, months later, Maia still feels something strange when she looks at Clary. There is an urge to be close to her, to make her laugh, to smile proudly when she picks fights with closed-minded Shadowhunters for talking behind Alec's back.
And frankly, the only thing keeping Maia from calling that feeling a crush was knowing Clary was straight. The dramatic irony is almost hilarious, but Maia is too busy pushing back those feelings so she can support Clary as a friend to laugh.
"Clary, that's..." Maia struggles to look for the right words. What does she want to hear whenever she imagines telling someone she likes girls? What did Simon say to her? "That's great!" She moves to sit next to Clary on the couch. They may not be the best of friends, and Maia may not be the cuddliest or most physically affectionate person, especially with someone she hardly knows, but she wants the option to touch Clary if she needs to.
In an entirely platonic way, of course, because Clary coming out to her doesn't mean anything like that.
"Thanks, Maia," Clary says with a soft smile, and, because she's a cuddly and affectionate person, touches Maia’s bare arm.
A moment of comfortable silence passes between them. Then, Maia becomes overly aware of Clary's hand on her arm, and Clary's eyes on her lips, and Clary's wet clothes on her couch.
"Why are you telling me?" Maia asks. Then quickly adds, "I mean, I'm honoured and everything, but I would've thought you'd tell Luke first. Or Izzy, or, I don’t know, Magnus."
Clary laughs again, dropping her hand. "I'm gonna tell them all soon. But I was talking to Simon, and he said I should tell you. I wasn't going to listen, at first, but then I realized he was right."
"About what? What did he say?"
Clary looks at her in a way that makes Maia's heart flutter. It's filled with what can only be described as admiration, and it's hard to miss the way her eyes snap to Maia's chest and back up again. Clary smiles before speaking again:
"That you're worth the risk."
She says it with a certain kind of confidence. The kind that implies she's ready to be rejected. That she's not used to going after people - she's always the one being chased - but like everything else in her life, she's willing to give it her all.
Maia tucks a wet strand of hair out of Clary's face. She watches Clary's expression falter, like she's achieved her goal but can't believe it's happening. It's so different from the way Maia's seen her look at Jace, or even Simon. She's vulnerable and full of hope, and she only tears her eyes away from Maia's to stare at her lips instead.
Maia kisses her.
Clary wastes no time kissing her back, sweet and gentle at first, and then with passion. Hunger. Her hands wind their way through Maia's hair. For all intents and purposes, she's a very good kisser. She pulls back too soon, sighing softly. Maia watches the realization that she's just kissed a girl sink in, watches her cheeks turn red and a giddy smile take over her face.
“Wow,” Clary says. Maia can relate.
Clary leans in to kiss her again, but Maia stops her with a gentle hand on her chin. Clary looks at her with confused puppy dog eyes (which is especially unfair, seeing as Maia is the one who's supposed to have canine traits). "You need to get changed before you get sick," Maia says, pushing off the couch. She walks into her tiny bedroom and rummages through her drawers until she finds a Wonder Woman t-shirt and a pair of leggings she thinks will fit Clary. Back in the living room, she tosses them at Clary before announcing that she's going to make some tea.
In the kitchen, illuminated only by the oven lights, Maia leans against the refrigerator as she waits for the water to boil.
I just kissed Clary Fairchild.
The mere idea of it is ridiculous and unreal, even if Maia has been noncommittally flirting with Clary ever since that night at the Hunter’s Moon – nothing serious, never expecting it to be reciprocated, but making jokes and fixing her hair behind her ear anyway. It’s surreal to think it actually went somewhere. Neither of them has the best track record when it comes to relationships. But here they both are: Clary making grand romantic gestures, Maia making tea, the two of them kissing like nothing has ever gone wrong in their lives.
But things have gone wrong, for both of them, and whatever this is, Maia doesn't want it to ruin them, because whatever this is probably isn’t going to be light and casual, not with the way her heart’s pounding at the thought of Clary’s lips against her own.
Maybe she'll get lucky and it will end like it did with Simon, with both of them kind and respectful, sharing hugs and promising to stay friends because that was what mattered first and foremost. Or maybe she won't. The thought of losing Clary either way is so far from pleasant it makes her stomach ache – and they've only shared one kiss so far.
Maybe it won’t end at all.
"Hey."
Startled, Maia looks to the entrance of the small kitchen, where Clary is standing in her clothes, her hair wrapped in the towel from earlier. She has that almost-but-not-quite-nervous look on again.
"Hey," Maia echoes. "You look good in my clothes."
Clary looks down at herself and smirks. "Need some help with that tea?"
Maia picks up the box of earl grey tea bags and waves it at her. "I think I got it."
"Okay," Clary says, but makes her way into the kitchen anyway, walking until she's only inches away from Maia. Maia can feel her eyes on her lips.
"You wanna kiss me again?"
Clary looks up at her from under long lashes. "Can I?"
Maia leans off the fridge, bringing her face even closer to Clary's. Just as she's about to reply flirtatiously, the kettle goes off with a high-pitched noise. Maia laughs as Clary jumps in surprise at that. Clary gives her a pointed look, but can't stop the corners of his mouth from twitching upwards. She steps back, arms crossed, and waits for Maia to tend to the tea. Maia turns off the kettle and pours them both tea, handing Clary her cup and leading her back to the living room.
They settle on the couch, Maia turning on the TV and flicking through channels in hopes of something that isn’t an infomercial. "I don't have chocolate or anything-" she starts, but is cut off by Clary taking the remote out of her hand and turning the volume down.
“Can we talk?” Clary asks. “Or make out? I’d be good with either.”
Maia raises her eyebrows and thinks, briefly, that if she and Clary do start dating, she's going to be late to a lot of shifts. That seems like a good topic to bring up, along with a hundred other hopes and concerns and predictions, but it’s two in the morning, and Clary’s starting to sniffle.
“Tomorrow,” she promises. “Both tomorrow.”
Clary grins. “Does that mean you’re asking me to spend the night?”
Maia rolls her eyes, giving Clary a gentle, playful shove. They both laugh before settling back down to drink their tea and watch reruns of an old sitcom neither of them recognizes. Clary rests her head against Maia’s shoulder, cold hair against hot skin, and sighs.
"So," she says after a long moment. "You like girls too, huh?"