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“So, the first step is to ask” — AJ nods — “and then, if they say yes, you bring your faces near each other, and, what, squish your mouths together?” Magpie’s face is twisted confusedly as they parrot back what they’ve learned, and AJ sighs.
“Sort of?” AJ offers with a shrug, legs dangling idly from where she sits next to Magpie at a table in the empty tavern. “I almost wish I could just show you. There are some things you can’t explain without doing them, y’know?”
Magpie hums, considering this. “You could,” they say, and AJ stills.
“What?”
Magpie swallows, and repeats, albeit less surely, “You could show me.”
AJ simply stares at her for a moment, blinking slow and catlike.
“You… you mean that?” she asks, eyes flitting across Magpie’s face, looking for signs of doubt. “I wouldn’t do anything you weren’t comfortable with, Magpie. You know that, right?”
Magpie hesitates for only a moment before nodding decisively. “I know that,” they say, thinking of the quiet moments they’ve shared — of the way AJ’s voice softens, sometimes, when she’s around them; of the measured honesty she provides, the lack of condescension when she’s explaining something they don’t understand; of the first time someone had touched them on purpose without it being done to hurt, the simple feeling of AJ’s hand in hers.
AJ shifts a little closer, still studying them. “You’re sure?” she asks again, softly, her breath warm as it fans across Magpie’s cheek.
Magpie nods. “Only if you’re okay with it,” they hasten to add. “You said kissing could be between friends, right? Would- would Drift be upset?”
AJ tilts her head before shaking it. “Nah, I don’t think so,” she replies, “we were talking earlier about how people haven’t been giving you the best advice — plus, if it’s just for educational purposes, there’s nothing for her to worry about. Sort of like when I taught you how to dance.”
“Okay,” Magpie says, because it makes sense, and because she hopes it’s true.
AJ must read the uncertainty on their face, because she says, “I’ll tell her after, if you want. Explain it. I’m sure she’ll understand — she knows we don’t like each other like that, or anything.”
(Magpie decides that this, too, must be true).
“Okay,” they say again, turning to face her, “so, what’s the first step?”
AJ turns, too, gaze flickering between her eyes as she begins, “First, you ask: can I kiss you, Magpie?”
“Yes,” Magpie replies, more of a breath than a word.
“And then, you lean in,” AJ explains, doing as much, “and, if you want, you can reach out, cup their cheek” — Magpie stifles a gasp as AJ does just that — “and, maybe, brush a strand of hair behind their ear…”
Magpie’s skin prickles where AJ touches it, so gently tucking a piece of their hair behind their ear, calloused fingers resting there at the junction between cheek and jaw, and it doesn’t hurt at all.
“And then what?” Magpie asks, surprised by the raggedness of their voice.
“And then you tilt your head,” AJ says, but instead of tilting her own head and waiting for Magpie to do the same, she slowly tilts Magpie’s head for them. “And purse your lips,” she continues, and she’s even closer now, a mere hair’s breadth away, “and close your eyes” — reluctantly, Magpie lets their eyes fall shut — “as your lips meet.”
A gentle peck is all it is, really. Magpie feels the warm press of AJ’s lips to their own, finds herself thinking that she hadn’t expected AJ’s lips to be that soft. And then, before they have much time to process this new sensation, before Magpie can do something as silly as giving in to the impulse to press closer, AJ sits back, and their lips disconnect.
“How was that? Are you okay?” she asks, and Magpie blinks, slightly dazed, raising a finger to absentmindedly touch their tingling lips.
They nod, gathering themself enough to ask, “So, is that it?”
With a small chuckle — amused, but not unkind — AJ shakes her head, before pausing. “Well, sometimes,” she says, “but if you mean making out, then no. That’s a little different.”
Magpie hums, thoughtfully. “How so?”
AJ grins. “Wow, that good, huh, Magpie?”
Magpie scoffs, cheeks flaming. “Don’t flatter yourself, AJ. You said it would be easier to show me!”
AJ just smiles. “I know, I know,” she concedes. “I mean, I can show you a little, if you want? But I don’t want to cross any boundaries or anything.”
Magpie shakes their head. “I want to know, AJ. It’s okay.”
“Alright,” AJ says, shuffling closer again, “but tell me to stop if you’re uncomfortable at all, alright?”
Magpie nods.
“So,” AJ murmurs, resuming her previous position, “it’s like kissing, but with your mouths open.”
Slowly, she guides Magpie through it — “You can run your tongue along their bottom lip, like so… and then, when they open, you slip your tongue in… you can tug on their hair, if you like…” — before parting for air, the both of them breathing heavy.
Magpie nearly topples over with the sudden urge to close the distance between them again, and AJ laughs, steadying them.
“Easy there, tiger,” she says, seemingly mistaking it for Magpie being out of it or something, “you okay?”
Magpie nods, sobering quickly. “Yeah, yeah. I’m good. Thanks, AJ.”
AJ smiles, though it’s a little tentative. “You sure, Magpie? I know that must have been a little overwhelming for you, what with, y’know, not being used to touch and everything.”
Yes. Yes, AJ’s blaming it on that. Good.
Magpie smiles, shaking their head. “I’m okay,” they say, reaching out, slow and purposeful, to grasp AJ’s hand, “I promise.”
AJ’s smile is bright and wide, then, as she lightly squeezes back. “Good.”
The kiss was, by AJ’s standards, more clinical and informative than passionate, but there’s something there, warm and tingly and gnawing at her in the back of her mind, in the pit of her stomach — something that was there as Magpie melted into her; at every intake of breath, every little sigh; the sharp edge of Magpie’s canine as AJ brushed against it with her tongue — that has AJ shaking her head as if to be rid of it, shoving it aside.
“Well,” AJ says, amiably, “I’m sure you have lots to add to your book, now.”
The corner of Magpie’s mouth quirks upward as they give a one-shoulder shrug. “I dunno,” they admit, cheekily, “I think there are some things you can’t learn by reading them.”
***
(Later, when they’re replaying the scene over in their mind for what feels like the hundredth time, feeling the phantom sensation of AJ’s hands and lips and tongue, Magpie remembers what AJ had said about biting and thinks that, maybe, they do have more questions for her, after all).