Skye’s life is just full to the brim with luck, isn’t it? That’s what gotten her here, to this wonderful place, with this wonderful woman, with wonderful parents and wonderful superpowers. Because she’s fucking lucky.
Yeah, fucking, right. She’s just lucky to be alive.
She feels herself growing more and more tense and curses under her breath - or, well, tries to, because the breath kind of ends up in Bobbi’s mouth instead. Bobbi, poor, lovely, gorgeous Bobbi, whose kiss is fucking Kryptonite, whose touch is both electricity and comfort, who’s been married before for fuck’s sake so why exactly does she seem to be enjoying herself with her hands on the ass of a girl who has no fucking clue what the hell she’s doing.
Another unintentional whimper-sort-of-sound from Skye, and Bobbi pulls away. Because she knows what the hell she’s doing.
She can kill people with a pair of big sticks.
And Skye, well, she’s pretty damn good with her hands - but that’s not worth much when she doesn’t know what to do with them.
“What?” Bobbi asks softly, a gentleness that Skye can tell is forced. It’s comforting nonetheless.
Skye can’t help a gulp, and Bobbi leans back further, changing the angle at which she’s kneeling to see Skye’s downturned face, and moves her hands off Skye’s ass. One of them cups one of her cheeks, but she misses the more arousing contact.
“Isn’t everyone supposed to be nervous the first time?” Skye chokes out, trying to make a laugh out of her voice. It’s not cooperating, and Bobbi knows it as well as she does.
“Wait, is this - do you mean first time with a woman or...am I your first first?”
Skye sighs, and starts disentangling herself and Bobbi, sitting down on her actual butt on her bed. She hasn’t stretched her legs out for a while, and they’re a little achey as a result, but with the moment broken anyway it does feel better to be in a more relaxed position.
“You don’t have to sound so shocked.”
“I’m not - a little surprised, yeah, maybe. I mean, you’re like...28. And you were with, well, you-know-who, I just figured you would have.”
“Nope. No, this - this is about as far as I got with him, too. Kind of having deja vu, now that I think about it. Well, gay-ja-vu, I guess.”
Bobbi chuckles, and they both soften a bit.
“We’re not gonna do anything you’re not comfortable with, you know that, right?”
“Well, I certainly do now.”
She winces at the displeasure she reveals in her tone.
“Skye,” Bobbi says, sternness slinking into her voice.
“Sorry. It’s just...a little embarrassing. I can make jokes but whenever sex comes up...in conversation, as a possibility, I just feel like such a kid. I’ve never trusted someone enough to go all the way, so now I know more about the chemical makeup of alien species than I do about having sex.”
Bobbi thinks for a moment before glancing back over at Skye, her arms extended behind her as she leans back some more.
“Do you trust me?”
“...I trust you with my life.”
“Your life and your body aren’t the same thing.”
“No...but I do trust you.”
She pauses, but Bobbi seems to be waiting for her to say more, and doesn’t oblige her with an immediate reply.
“And I want you,” Skye adds.
Her voice sounds more like a whine than a request, but it does the trick, and Bobbi’s right back to sharing her wavelength.
“Well, little girl, what if I told you I could teach you more than you ever imagined knowing about having sex?”
“Barbara Morse, did you just proposition me?” Skye answers dramatically, more comfortable with that response than she’d anticipated being.
“With candy,” Bobbi playfully continues, then sobers herself. “As long as you never call me Barbara again.”
Skye lets herself smile, a foolish, lovesick kind of grin taking hold of her, complete with the butterflies in her stomach.