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It’s mid-morning when Isaac wakes up, eyes blinking alertly in the mid-morning light. Though Derek recently bought the apartment, as he gets up for a stretch and looks out the window, he sees dust already starting to collect. He figures it’s up to him now, the whole cleaning situation. It’s the least he could do. Living in the discrepant burnt Hale house was just too big a job, and when they were hiding out in that train car it was a moot point. But he’d be living here for a while, and maybe he could contribute in that way.
It already felt like home. It smelled like pack, and it was a place he could feel comfortable in. He still flinched when Stiles dropped a glass vase in the other room last week, but those reflexes were obviously never going to go away.
It begins to rain, and that rain turns to hail. The weather in Beacon Hills was as predictably unpredictable as life itself was. But it meant the heat wave was over, which was a relief.
Derek and Boyd had left the house some time ago, and when Isaac finishes breakfast, it’s just him and Cora in the echoing apartment.
It’s Thursday, it’s close combat day in the training schedule Derek organized a month ago. After Isaac dumps his empty plate in the sink, Cora looks at him expectantly, asking, “So, when do you want to start?”
Her tone is sharp, and Isaac just replies, “Give me a minute.” slinking back to his room to get out of his pajamas.
As he strips off his clothes, he wonders if he has time to take a shower. He smells a little sour from sleep, and his joints could use some relaxing hot water. But probably not, because she’s already waiting impatiently for him, in those black athletic tights that make her ass look -
He runs a hand through his hair roughly, internally yelling at himself to get it together. She is not anything. She’s just Derek’s little sister. Who’s coincidentally kind of, mildly hot.
So he just washes his face, hands, brushes his teeth. His muscles feel impossibly tense and his head hurts. He wishes he could jerk off to relieve some of the ache, but Cora’s right in the other room and that could get awkward really fast.
When he gets back out, he doesn’t immediately see her anywhere, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He can sense her, but where is she?
Suddenly, she comes hurtling out from behind the couch, jumping on his back and bringing him down onto the ground, slipping out from under him and pinning his shoulders to the floor. She smirks, leaning over him, saying coolly, “The element of surprise can often be useful when you’re opponent is lacking in observation skills.”
He tries not to be alarmed at how turned on it makes him.
He crosses his hand under her arm, shoving her off him and taking the sliver of time to get on his feet. He has a slight advantage of muscle, though she is smaller than him and she’s fast. She always uses her elbows to her advantage, as well as her knees. They have an unspoken agreement not to fight with claws, ever since she almost took out Boyd’s eye two weeks ago.
They circle each other, Cora fakes a hit left, but he sees it coming and dodges the hit from the right. They continue to try and sneak hits in, but they’re worthy opponents. At one point, they shift from the large, open room to the kitchen, Cora pushing off the counter and trying to make up for his height advantage, but he’s too quick and he bats her off her perch, making her skid across the floor and out of the room.
He chases her, until she stops suddenly and goes for a kick. He steps back just in time. She continues to run, uses the pull-up bar as an anchor and actually jumps off the wall, bypassing the couch and putting a few pieces of furniture between them. Her eyes are flashing gold and her lips curve up. She looks like some majestic, powerful lioness ready to pounce on her prey.
He shakes that thought out of his head, tries to focus more about beating her than licking her all over. He squares his shoulders and jumps over the couch, lunging to grab her. But she’s too quick, spins around him using his shoulder for support, and kicks him in the middle of his spine, causing him to crumple to the floor.
She stands over him, but obviously hesitates, giving him a precious second to roll over and steady himself back on his feet again.
After about ten minutes, both completely covered in sweat, Isaac manages to pin her. His forearm stretches over her neck and shoulders, and leans in to say something witty.
But his mind goes completely blank. Her eyes are shiny and catlike and beautiful, making it impossible to string words together in his head.
They’re both breathing hard, noses just barely touching. They’re frozen like that, staring and gasping until the tension is broken as her hand grabs the back of his neck and smashes her lips into his.
It’s happened once before.
But then Derek came storming in and they’d returned to cold indifference, and it wasn’t brought up since. They’re not friends. Isaac expects her to want to “talk about it”, aren’t all girls supposed to want to do that? But she didn’t, and every other time they’d been working out or training Boyd had been with them.
He just feels uncomfortable and awkward about the entire situation. He’s cocky as hell usually, it sorta comes with the bite and the leather jacket. But this feels different, uncharted territory. The only experience he’s ever really had with girls involved faceless grinding at clubs, accompanied by badly-done handjobs in the bathroom. He’d never called them after, and they were usually from the next town over so he didn’t see them at school.
Cora is not anything like those girls. She’s wildly attractive and wildly intimidating, not to mention the fact that she’s wildly off-limits. But she’s also really confusing. She acts like he’s a tiny ant on the grass lawn that is her life, then she wants to claw his eyes out, and then she’s sticking her tongue down his throat.
Not that he minds.
He yanks her closer to him, feeling her give into him and press her chest against his. Their teeth knock together as it expands into hot, open-mouthed kisses; he sucks on her bottom lip and her breathing picks up. So he sucks a little harder, adds a nip, and she lets out a breathy little moan that makes his cock twitch. She’s always so guarded, so cold, so untouchable, but here she is. Moaning because of something he did.
All of a sudden they’re standing up and pressing against each other, her lower back hitting the kitchen counter. His hands slide up and down her body, and hers disappear up his white shirt. Her fingers are cold, making his abdomen shudder against them. She curls her fingers, nails raking down his stomach until they’re back out, holding onto his shoulders.
He was so completely fucking lost in the hot, heavy sensation of kissing Cora Hale. His fingers run down until they stop at the waistband of her leggings cautiously. This is uncharted territory. But typical Cora just takes hold of his wrist and shoves it down past her underwear demandingly, it makes his hips rut up against her eagerly.
He doesn’t know what this is, doesn’t know whether or not he’s doing or saying something wrong, but then his two fingers are inside her and she’s plastered her body to him, riding his hand and kissing the side of his neck, biting and scratching and gasping. She’s tight and he buries his face into the crook of her neck, resisting the urge to take a chunk out of it. She smells so fucking good he wants to eat her up whole.
Everything’s happening so fast and his head is whirring and it’s all instinct. His cock is so hard it’s physically painful, pants unforgivingly tight.
All of a sudden she shoves him away, and he’s so sure he’s done something monumentally wrong he almost apologizes. His back hits the wall. But that apology dies in his throat.
She drops down on her knees and his mind is screaming stop this, Derek is going to claw your head clean off and piss down the hole! but his dick isn’t really listening to his mind right now, especially when she’s ripping his belt off, shoving his pants and boxers down and -
“Cora - “ A gutteral groan cuts him off.
She jerks him off, thumb sliding over the head and making him stifle a shout. Her hands are so small but so soft and she looks up at him and licks her lips and he’s sure that this isn’t actually happening, it must be some freakishly real fever dream. Her hand gets wet from his precum and he bites back a groan when her tongue darts out to lick it.
Then her mouth is all over him, licking him from base to tip. She takes his head in her mouth and sucks hard, making him fight not to shove his cock down her throat. Her mouth is so warm and wet, he’s gasping but he feels like he can’t breathe. It’s like he’s living in a porn. She glances up at him, mouth still full, and smirks the way she did when she pinned him.
Yep, definitely living in a porn.
“Oh god.” He blurts out, smacks his hand back to steady himself, almost putting a hole through the wall in the process.
She adds her hands and she’s cupping his balls and it’s all too much. He knows he’s going to come embarrassingly fast, tries to hold back as much as he can, but he can’t stop staring down at her. Cheeks flushed, lips wet.
She runs her tongue slowly across the vein on the underside of his shaft, exactly where he’s most sensative and his hips can’t stop from jerking against her obscenely, his head hitting the back of her throat.
“Fu - uck, Cora, I’m gonna - “ He gasps, managing to growl out the rest quickly, “come now.”
And then she swallows his cum, and his knees feel like they’re about to buckle and his body aches. She stands up, wipes her mouth and takes a step away from him.
The air between them feels suddenly dense, like she wasn’t just sucking his dick. She’s leaning back on the kitchen counter, where she’s been sitting less than ten minutes ago, and she’s staring at the ground with her arms crossed. He feels vulnerable, awkwardly putting his cock back in his pants. His zipper makes an impossibly loud noise.
It must be code for “the end”, because without a word, Cora just walks away. Walks away! Back down the hallway, into her room, and calmly shutting the door.
Isaac stands in the middle of the kitchen, staring at the wall for almost two full minutes. A few seconds pass by where he believes he really just imagines all this happening, and he’s really in a coma from a violent yet heroic fight and that bitch with the toenail claws totaled his face.
He even pinches his arm.
Nope, this is real.
The door suddenly bangs open, Scott flying through. Isaac jumps, he's sure his face is red and he's still standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.
“Where’s Derek?”
“Out.” Isaac replies shortly, coughing uncomfortably. “Why?”
“Stiles was captured by faeries.”