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“So,” Lydia says, closing her Biology textbook with a crisp snap, “I need a favor.”
“What is it?” Malia asks, letting her green highlighter drop from between her teeth. “Do we have to hurt someone for you?”
“Threaten to hurt them,” Kira adds pointedly, looking up from her notebook and gently poking Malia in the leg.
“That’s what I meant,” Malia says stubbornly. “Who are we threatening?”
“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” Lydia says with a frown. “My mom’s hosting a family reunion here this weekend and apparently, I’m not allowed to skip out on it.”
“Did you want us to get you out of it?” Kira asks.
“Tell her you’re giving me driving lessons,” Malia says. Lydia shakes her head and sighs. Malia can smell the emotions rolling off her, mainly frustration and a tinge of anger, and it makes Malia want to clamber up onto Lydia’s bed and hug her.
“It won’t work,” she says. “But if she’s going to make me put up with those idiots for the whole weekend, the least she can do is let me have friends over.” She smiles slightly and even if it doesn’t reach her eyes, Malia can’t help but smile back.
“Want us to keep you company?” Kira asks. She scoots over a little closer on the floor, until her knee is bumping against Malia's. “I’m not busy this weekend.”
“Me neither,” Malia adds. It’s not a complete lie; she was supposed to practice sparring with Liam on Saturday but that can wait until next week. “When do you want us to come over?”
“Friday, after school. All our other bedrooms are taken, so you’ll both have to sleep in here.”
“Fine by me,” Kira says with a shrug, grin lighting up her face. “I’ll bring my sleeping bag. Maybe it’ll even be fun.”
“I don’t know about that,” Lydia says with a quiet laugh, “but at least having you two around might keep me from losing my mind.” Malia smiles as best as she can before going back to her textbook.
She’s glad to help Lydia. She really is. But being stuck in close quarters with both Lydia and Kira for two whole days might make her lose her mind, or possibly blurt out a confession that she won't be able to take back.
&.
The rest of the week flies by in a blur and before Malia knows it, it’s Friday and she’s stepping out of Lydia’s car with Kira, duffle bag over her shoulder. They have to park on the side of the road; Lydia’s entire driveway is packed with vehicles, ranging from luxurious sedans to a rust-eaten truck that looks like it might fall apart at any moment. Even from the bottom of the driveway, Malia can hear people splashing around in the pool and a dozen different conversations, all overlapping each other.
“How many people are supposed to be coming?” Kira asks, adjusting her grip on her bag as she attempts to fumble her katana out of the trunk. Malia automatically takes Kira’s bag as well, which earns her a warm smile that sinks right into her chest.
“Forty, give or take a few who won’t bother to show up,” Lydia says with a shrug. “And if any of them hit my car, feel free to threaten them as much as you please.”
They manage to get up to Lydia’s bedroom without being accosted by any relatives, but Malia has just laid down her sleeping bag when there’s a knock on the door.
“Lydia? Girls?”
“Yes, Mom?” Lydia asks, sighing loudly.
“Dinner’s going to be ready in a few minutes. Come down and see everyone.” It’s easy enough to tell from Ms. Martin’s tone of voice that it’s not a request.
“Be down in a minute!” Lydia yells. As soon as her mom’s footsteps fade away, Lydia mutters something shockingly profane under her breath. She swipes on another coat of lipgloss and runs her fingers through her hair before turning and plastering on a smile. It may fool the rest of her family, but it’s so painfully fake that Malia can’t help but snort.
“Let’s try to get this over with as quickly as possible,” she says. “And if any of them say anything rude, I won’t stop you from telling them to screw off.”
They claim a couch tucked into the corner of Lydia’s living room, balancing plates of food on their lap. They have to squish together in order to fit and Malia finds herself with Lydia’s hip and Kira’s shoulder pressed against hers. It’s almost too much and she has to take a deep breath and close her eyes, just for a second.
“Are you okay?” Kira asks quietly, as Lydia exchanges brief pleasantries with one of her relatives. When Malia turns her head, Kira’s face is right there, mere inches away. Her eyes are wide and her lips are parted slightly. She looks so concerned and she smells so good that Malia can’t help but take another deep breath.
“I’ll be fine,” she says. “I just hope we don’t have to stay down here all night.”
“Me too,” Kira says. Her fingers drop onto the back of Malia’s hand and squeeze tightly. Malia doesn’t know what she wants to do more: bolt from the couch or lean in and kiss Kira.
In the end, she just squeezes back before turning to look at Lydia, who is aggressively biting into a mini-carrot.
“How long have we been down here?” she mutters out of the corner of her mouth, flashing another fake smile at someone who walks by.
“Twenty minutes,” Kira replies, glancing down at her watch.
Lydia’s next bite is so vicious that Malia briefly ponders how terrifying Lydia would be as a werewolf.
For the next half hour, they’re mostly ignored, as people go back for seconds (and thirds) of both food and alcohol. The living room empties out and the noise coming from the direction of the pool amplifies. After an hour, it looks like the coast might actually be clear, that they might actually be able to escape back up to Lydia’s bedroom.
But just as Malia prepares to wriggle out from between Kira and Lydia, a woman stops in front of the couch. She looks like she’s in her early seventies and has faded red hair, pulled into a long braid. The family resemblance is immediately obvious but based on the way Lydia’s heartbeat suddenly skips, that isn’t a good thing.
“Lydia, my darling, how are you?” Her tone screams condescending and it’s all Malia can do to keep her fangs tucked in her mouth.
“Aunt Rachel,” Lydia says with a curt nod. “I didn’t know that you were invited.” The woman just flashes a closed mouth smile before turning her attention to Kira and Malia.
“And who are these ladies?” Rachel asks. Before Malia can open her mouth, she feels Lydia’s fingers wriggle between her own.
“Actually, Rachel, these are my girlfriends.”
Malia is pretty sure that her heart stops beating. She quickly glances sideways, just in time to see Lydia nod slightly. She knows it means trust me, so she simply nods and wraps her free arm around Kira’s shoulder.
“Hi,” she says. She doesn’t dare say anything more, because her fangs are pressing against her gums, begging to be flashed. Kira mumbles a sheepish greeting as well and Rachel sniffs quietly before turning and walking away. As soon as she leaves the room, Lydia lets out a breath and shifts slightly so that she’s facing both of them.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I didn’t plan on doing that, it just kind of slipped out. I just love pissing her off.”
“She seems like a jerk,” Malia mutters.
“She is,” Lydia assures. “I’ll tell you both more later. I can tell her I was just joking though, if this makes you-”
“It’s okay,” Kira interrupts. “I mean, I’m fine with it, if it’ll make things easier for you.”
“Easier might not be the best word. But it’ll certainly make me happier,” Lydia says with a grin.”
“Then I’m fine with it too,” Malia hurriedly says. She looks down at where her fingers are still twisted together with Lydia’s, all too aware of the feeling of Kira’s skin brushing against her other hand. “Let’s piss off your relatives.”
“Thank you. I owe you both.” Lydia leans over and presses her lips to Malia’s cheek. The warmth from it sinks down into her, like the warmth from Kira’s smiles.
It’s going to be a long weekend.
&.
They manage to slip away from the reunion after another hour, which is spent facing down a number of Lydia’s relatives, many of whom are well on the way to being completely intoxicated. Lydia deftly handles the ignorant comments while Malia generally stays quiet, occasionally brushing her thumb against the back of Lydia’s hand or twirling a strand of Kira’s soft hair around her fingers.
While Lydia goes to talk to her mother, Malia and Kira head upstairs. It’s not even nine o’clock but Malia grabs her pajamas and slips into the bathroom attached to Lydia’s bedroom. Once she’s dressed, she splashes some water on her warm face and takes a moment to try and regulate her breathing.
She knows that it’s not that weird, for her to have a crush on both Lydia and Kira. Stiles told her a few weeks ago that it was totally common for werecreatures to be in polyamorous relationships. But she doesn’t dare think that she has an actual chance with either of them, let alone both of them at the same time.
“Malia? You alright?” Malia pushes her hair away from her face before she spins around and opens the door. Lydia’s already in her pajamas as well, hair pulled up into a messy bun.
“What did your mom say?” she asks, gathering up her clothes from the floor.
“She’s not happy about it,” Lydia says with a shrug, heading back into her bedroom. “She thinks I’m being immature. But she doesn’t like Rachel either, so she’s going to keep quiet about it.” She sits down on her bed, where Kira is also sitting, checking her phone.
“Want to watch a movie?” she asks, tucking it away in her bag after a moment. “I know you said you’d tell us about Rachel, but I think we could use a break.”
“Best idea ever,” Lydia agrees. She grabs her remote from the bedside table and scoots over to the edge of the bed, patting the space that’s opened up. “You can pick, Malia.”
Malia picks the first movie she recognizes that isn’t a horror film and tries her best to relax. It’s been a long day and her mouth and fingers still ache from holding herself back. And while she’s tired and Lydia’s bed is extremely comfortable, all she can focus on are the places where both Lydia and Kira are touching her.
Lydia is on her left, legs curled up, knees resting on Malia’s thigh. Kira is on her right and before she falls asleep fifteen minutes into the movie, she winds her arms around Malia’s waist. When Malia shifts slightly, she can feel Lydia’s hair brushing against her arm and she has to bite back a shiver.
Maybe if she waits until they both fall asleep, she’ll be able to wriggle away. The drop from Lydia’s window isn’t that bad. She’s pretty sure that she could get a few hours of sleep at her house before sneaking back in and-
“Are you okay?” Malia jumps slightly before glancing over at Lydia. Lydia’s eyes are still on the television, but Malia has no doubt that she’s not really paying attention to the screen.
Not for the first time, she’s glad that Lydia can’t hear her heartbeat or smell her emotions.
“Yeah,” she says quietly. “I’m good.”
“It’ll be better tomorrow,” Lydia says. “I think most of them got their stupid questions out of the way tonight.”
“I hope so.” They fall back into silence and it’s only a few more moments before Malia feels her eyes starting to close of their own accord. The last thing she remembers before falling asleep is feeling someone sliding underneath her arm and laying their head against her shoulder.
&.
Lydia turns out to be only partially right.
When it comes to ignorant and awkward questions from Lydia’s family, the day is a breeze. Most of them are so hungover that they’re barely capable of speech until well into the afternoon. A few (including Aunt Rachel) don’t reappear at all.
But when it comes to the Kira and Lydia front, it turns out to be the hardest day of Malia’s life.
She knows that they need to keep up the charade, but the little touches that pass between them add up until Malia feels she can swear each of them lingering, echoing across her skin. Every brush of Kira’s fingers against her wrist, every press of Lydia’s palm to her lower back, every kiss that gets pressed against her cheek or the corner of her mouth; all of them build off of each other, until she feels like she might explode. By the time they slip back to Lydia’s room, with full stomachs and sun-warmed skin, she’s contemplating sneaking out the window while Kira and Lydia are changing.
But before she can even start looking for her shoes, Lydia takes her by the hand and tugs her over to the bed.
“What are you doing?” Malia asks. Even after Lydia sits down in front of her, she doesn’t let go of Malia’s hands. Seconds later, Kira sits down beside Lydia.
“We need to talk,” Lydia says. Malia has heard that those words often make people feel sick, but this is the first time she’s ever experienced it. It feels like her stomach has swooped to the ground and she has to bite back a groan.
“There’s something wrong, isn’t there?” Kira asks, biting her lip slightly.
“I’m fine,” Malia says stubbornly, looking at a spot just beside Lydia’s nose. “Really.”
“Malia,” Kira says, laying one of her hands on top of where Lydia’s fingers are twisted with Malia’s, “if you’re uncomfortable with what we’ve been doing, we can stop.”
“If you want to go home too, that’s okay,” Lydia adds. “I’m sorry.” Malia feels like her throat has closed up. She stares down into her lap, memorizing the feeling of Lydia and Kira’s fingers against her own. She doesn’t want to talk, but since she apparently can’t act to save her life, it looks like just saying I’m fine again won’t fix anything. She wants to yank away from them, wants to run as far as she can into the preserve until the whole situation has blown over.
But that's not an option, not realistically. So instead, she takes a deep breath and gently wriggles her hands away from Kira and Lydia.
“I’m not pretending,” she says, trying to keep her voice even. “All of this, I haven’t been faking it. I know it’s not real for either of you but it’s real for me. Too real.” The room stays quiet and with each silent second that ticks by, Malia feels the urge to run creep further and further up her spine.
“Me neither.” It’s Kira who finally breaks the silence. When Malia jerks her head up, Kira is blushing slightly and her heart is beating faster than normal. There’s a smell coming off her too, a scent Malia has smelled before. She knows what it means, but she doesn’t dare put a name on it, just in case it’s a trick of her mind.
“I wasn’t pretending either,” Kira continues.
“Really?” Kira nods and drops her hand onto Malia’s knee, squeezing gently.
“I’m not a very good actor,” she says with a quiet laugh.
“I am.” Lydia slides closer and her grip on Malia’s hand tightens. “If I have to be. But it wasn’t acting for me either.”
“You’re not joking, are you?” Malia asks, after fumbling with her words for what feels like an eternity. “Either of you? Because if you are, I’m never talking to you again. Even if I need help with math.”
“We’re not joking,” Kira says, as she takes Lydia’s free hand. Malia feels like something has broken open in her chest, something huge and warm and just this side of overwhelming. It scrambles her thoughts and makes it hard for her to concentrate on anything that isn’t Lydia and Kira, both of whom are smiling at her, wide and bright.
She doesn’t bother with words this time. She lunges forward and wraps one arm around Lydia’s waist and one around Kira’s, pulling them both into a tight hug. Her face ends up surrounded by their hair and it smells so good that a unbidden laugh escapes her chest.
“Best weekend ever,” she mumbles, moving her knees so they don't dig into anyone.
“I don’t know about that,” Lydia says. Malia’s stomach briefly drops but when she pulls back slightly, Lydia’s pale pink lips are still curled into a smile.
“Next weekend will be even better,” she clarifies, glancing between Malia and Kira, tucking a strand of hair behind Kira’s ear. “My damn relatives will be gone.”
“Good point,” Kira says with a laugh, leaning her head against Lydia’s shoulder. “Maybe we’ll even get some homework done.”
“I hope not,” Malia murmurs. She takes a deep breath before she leans in and presses her lips against Lydia’s. It’s brief but firm and when she pulls away, it’s only to turn her head and kiss Kira as well. Kira squeezes her hand tightly and when Malia pulls back, Kira’s grin is dazzling. She parts her lips but before she can say anything, Lydia slips her fingers from between Malia’s and uses them to gently turn Kira’s face towards her. Their kiss is a little longer, a little less hesitant, but Malia doesn’t get jealous.
She’s sure they’ll all kiss each other like that, in time.
&.
They fall asleep the way they did Friday night: twisted together on Lydia’s bed, a movie playing in the background. Malia’s head is resting on Lydia’s stomach and when she slowly blinks her eyes open Sunday morning, the first thing she hears is Lydia’s heartbeat, strong and even. Kira is a length of warmth against her back and Malia shifts closer to her, basking in the heat like a snake lying on the tarmac.
By the time she hears footsteps, the bedroom door is already creaking open.
“Lydia?” Ms. Martin pokes her head in, voice barely above a whisper. “Can you help with breakfast?”
“Mom, not now,” Lydia grumbles, dropping her hand on Malia’s head. “Trying to sleep.” Malia can’t help the content growl that slips from her mouth when Lydia’s nails gently rake against her scalp.
“Okay,” Ms. Martin says. “I’ll come back in a bit.” When the door closes behind her, Malia closes her eyes again and wriggles closer to Lydia. She’s not sure if she’ll be able to fall asleep again, but she definitely has no desire to get up anytime soon.
“How is this going to work?” Kira mumbles against the back of Malia’s neck. It’s a question that’s been sitting in the back of Malia’s mind since the night before; she’s not sure what boundaries Kira and Lydia have or if there are rules they want to set up.
“Stiles did some research on polyamory in werecreatures,” she mumbles. “It might be-”
“We’re not taking relationship advice from Stiles,” Lydia says, slowly combing her fingers through Malia’s hair. “Ever. We’ll figure this out together, once everyone’s gone and I get some more sleep.”
Malia is more than willing to go along with that plan.