Work Text:
There is only one good thing about working at the ice-cream parlour. One. Malia hates the stupid uniforms. They have to wear these ridiculous caps and despite the fact that it’s freezing behind the counter, as a girl she has to wear a skirt. Then there are the crying children. She’s discovered there are two main reasons for kids crying at an ice-cream shop. They’ve either dropped their cone, or they’re not allowed as much ice-cream as they want. Another thing is the stickiness. Everything in the shop is sticky. The counter, the chairs, the money. It’s disgusting.
So the only good thing about the job is Erica, who stops by after she’s done with her shift at the clothing store across the street. She’s gorgeous. Long blonde hair, long legs, long lashes. The only short thing about that girl are her skirts, a choice Malia very much approves of.
Unfortunately, so far she’s never managed to talk to her. Her co-worker, Matt, always pushes her out of the way the moment it’s Erica’s turn. The asshole doesn’t do anything all day, unless there’s a pretty girl in line.
Today is no different. Malia tries to send him in the back to get another box of cones when she sees Erica approaching, but he only raises his eyebrows at her and continues typing on his phone. Who is he even talking to? He can’t be that popular. And damnit, they really need more of those stupid cones.
When Malia gets back, Matt is already helping Erica.
‘Oh come on, I’ve served you perfectly the last week.’
‘You gave me the wrong flavour. Twice,’ Erica points out. ‘I don’t want you anywhere near my food again, before you give me something I’m actually allergic to.’
Malia doesn’t hesitate. She pushes Matt out of the way and greets Erica with a smile.
‘How can I help you?’
‘Strawberry and vanilla please.’
‘Excellent combo,’ Malia nods. She tries to scoop up as much ice-cream as she can. This might be her only chance.
‘Is the money really worth working with that asshole?’ Erica asks. There are some disapproving mutters from the parents behind her, but she doesn’t react to them.
‘It pays for gas and pizza,’ Malia shrugs. Which is all she wanted from this stupid summer job.
‘You have a car?’
‘A bike.’
The corner of Erica’s mouth ticks up in an approving smirk. ‘Think we’ll both fit on it?’
They were definitely flirting now. Right? She should’ve listened better when Lydia was teaching her how to flirt.
‘It’s a dirt bike, so it’ll be a tight fit.’
Erica smiles wider. She takes a lick of her ice-cream, eyes trained on Malia.
Behind her, Malia can hear Matt sigh, ‘Fucking lesbians.’
She can punch him for that later. The way Erica licks the stray ice-cream of her lips is far more interesting.
‘I don’t mind holding on tight for the ride,’ Erica says. Then she turns and walks out of the shop.
Malia doesn’t move her eyes from the girl’s swaying hips until she’s out of sight.
~
When Erica shows up the next day, Malia is cleaning the floor where a child threw up earlier. She doesn’t even realize the blonde is in the shop until she sees a pair of high heeled shoes next to her bucket. She lets her eyes travel up long, leather clad legs, and then further up until she reaches Erica’s eyes.
‘Hi,’ she says. Fuck, is what she thinks. The universe must hate her. Things had gone so well yesterday. Being covered in vomit and soapy water can’t help her case.
‘Hey. You almost done with that?’
‘Yes, but I’m going to need a decontamination shower before I feel clean again.’
Erica smiles but doesn’t say anything. She takes a seat next to where Malia is scrubbing the floor and waits until she’s done.
Ten minutes later, Malia is back behind the counter and waiting for Erica to decide on the flavour of the day.
‘You know what,’ Erica says. ‘I’m gonna go with cherry. To match my lip-gloss.’
Malia’s eyes are pulled to those purple stained lips, and licks her own as she imagines tasting them.
‘What time are you done?’ Erica asks.
‘Another hour.’
‘Hmm,’ Erica hums as she licks the ice-cream. She nods and then walks out.
Malia’s not sure what just happened. Did they flirt again?
She’s still thinking about it when she walks to her bike an hour later. She needs to talk to Lydia, because there is a next step and she’s not sure what it is. She would just ask Erica to go for a ride with her, but according to her friend there are rules to flirting and dating.
‘You weren’t kidding when you said it might be a tight fit.’
Malia looks up and sees Erica leaning against the wall next to her bike. She’s holding a helmet in her hands, but there are no other bikes in sight. Not sure what to say, Malia shrugs and starts digging her keys out of her pocket.
‘This outfit suits you much better than that skirt,’ Erica continues. Her eyes roam over Malia’s jeans and jacket in appreciation, and then lets them stay fixed on her legs. ‘Although it does have its benefits.’
‘Can’t ride a bike in that thing.’
‘I know. That’s why I’m wearing these today,’ Erica says, pointing at her own trousers. She pushes herself off the wall and walks towards Malia, not stopping until there is barely an inch left between them.
Well, at least she knows for sure now that she wasn’t imagining things.
‘You could’ve just asked,’ she says.
‘I thought the hints were pretty clear.’
‘I don’t like hints. I prefer people to be direct.’
‘I can be direct,’ Erica grins. ‘I want you to kiss me.’
Malia doesn’t need to be told twice. She pulls Erica against her and slots their lips together. Erica tastes like cherries, just as promised. In her heels, Erica towers over her and Malia has to stand on her toes to get the right angle. But a little strain in her calves is definitely worth it.
When she pulls back, her lips are sticky from the other girl’s gloss.
‘Let’s go for a ride,’ Malia says. She straddles her bike and waits for Erica to take her place.
‘Where are we going?’
‘I don’t care.’ And with Erica pressed as tightly as possible against her back, her arms wrapped around her waist, she really doesn’t.