(Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from How to Get Away With Murder. I don't even ship Laureala romantically but so many people do I thought it might be interesting to imagine how that would play out. Enjoy!)

Laurel opens the door to her apartment and flicks on the light. "Well, here we are," she says unceremoniously. "La casa de Señorita Castillo."

Michaela rolls her eyes and follows her classmate across the threshold, secretly loving but outwardly pretending to hate the way Laurel slips Spanish into every conversation.

"Thanks for letting me stay over, Laurel."

"Yeah, of course," the other young woman shrugs. "Safety in numbers, right? Besides, when we left the club you really didn't look okay to drive."

They had all ditched the club a few hours before and went to sober up at a pizza place. Professor Keating had offered to drive Wes home, which everyone thought was weird (but since when was anything having to do with Wes not weird lately?) and Connor had brought Oliver, who he'd been giving serious fuck-me eyes over pepperoni, so Michaela voted carpooling with Laurel instead and picking up her car the next morning. No one knew where Asher was, but then again they never really did. Probably somewhere popping his collar.

"I'll get you some towels, and if you're not too much of a snob to wear college tees to bed, I can give you a shirt and stuff once you're done showering."

Michaela smiles despite herself as Laurel rummages around in a closet. "I'm sure I'll survive."

Laurel turns around and hands her a fluffy green towel and washcloth, then points down the hallway. "The bathroom's first door on the left. Spare toothbrushes are under the sink."

Michaela hesitates. "Do you have a shower cap? My hair…" she finishes lamely.

Laurel smirks. "Sure, princess." She saunters off toward the bathroom and Michaela silently follows.

Laurel digs in a little basket under the sink and a couple seconds later produces a little cardboard square. "I keep these from hotels," she explains without being asked, ripping the package open. She clutches it between her pinky and ring fingers as she deftly sweeps Michaela's hair away from her face, twisting it into a makeshift bun, then pops the shower cap on her head, giggling. "You look hot."

Michaela feels her cheeks grow warm. "You gonna run the water for me too?" She snaps.

Laurel ignores the snark and turns to leave. "There you go. My room's the door straight across. I'll put the clothes on the bed for you, then it's my turn."

Michaela waits until Laurel shuts the door behind her before she peels off her sweaty club wear and steps into the comforting stream of water. She doesn't know why the nicer people are to her, the meaner she is to them. Well actually, she knows exactly why but she doesn't want to think about that right now…who wants to think about how everything good in life is always a trick, about how no one can be nice to you without wanting something? She shakes her head as if to shake off the thoughts as she begins sudsing up. Other people can't be depended on, that's why you're better off alone. No one can hurt you…

Laurel lays out an oversized tee printed with the Brown University crest along with a pair of lounge shorts. She slips out of her shoes and jacket, oddly comforted by the thought of Michaela wearing her clothes. She still isn't sure what to make of Miss Pratt, even after all they've been through together. Michaela was smart, gorgeous, charming, and, in fact, extremely kindhearted balanced with having a strong sense of justice- something she couldn't say for a lot of people, particularly in law. Laurel knows the bitchiness is just a front, but wishes people could get to know the real Michaela, wishes Michaela could get someone who actually cared about getting to know her. She tosses the night's smelly clothes in a hamper and shrugs on a bathrobe just in time to see Michaela's toweled frame standing in the doorway.

"I'm done," Michaela says awkwardly, whipping the shower cap off. "I- I don't want to drip on your floor." She shifts her weight on the wooden panels, water droplets rolling down her mahogany brown legs.

Laurel shakes her head, inwardly laughing at the things Michaela cares- or pretends to care— about. "Don't worry, it's synthetic." She grabs some clothing items out of a laundry basket on the floor and strides past, swatting Michaela on the butt and delighting in the squeak of surprise that follows.

When she reemerges some ten minutes later, in a cami and pj short set, her dark hair still damp she spots a now fully-clad, hair properly re-bunned Michaela holding a photo frame in her hands.

"Oh, sorry!" Michaela looks up sharply. She sets the frame back where she found it on the bookshelf next to Laurel's bed.

"It's okay," Laurel says cautiously. It isn't okay, but for Michaela to be interested at all means a lot. She picks up the frame again and sits next to Michaela holding it between the two of them. "What were you looking at?"

"Well, I…"

"Laurel can almost hear Michaela mentally debating whether or not to divulge a personal detail about herself. You can tell me, Michaela. It's okay… Laurel thinks furiously, but says nothing.

Michaela continues.

"I…you two look close. Who's the girl?" Michaela points to the grinning teenager in the photograph who has her arm slung around Laurel, throwing up blatantly obvious bunny ears with her two fingers as Laurel fakes a sad expression.

Laurel smiles broadly. "Mi hermanita. My little sister is the only person in my family who hasn't been corrupted yet." Her smile fades. "I'm trying to keep it that way."

"I know what you mean," Michaela sympathizes. "Once the cold world gets to you there's no going back." She pauses. Laurel waits. "I wish someone looked out for me like that."

Laurel sets down the frame and smiles again, nudging Michaela with her shoulder. "Someone does." She rests her head on Michaela's shoulder. "I do." Michaela stiffens for a moment then relaxes at this intimacy. She chuckles. "I mean a guy, though." She slowly rests her chin on top of Laurel's head. "God, I almost married Aiden's lying ass, and then Levi turned out to be just using me…and all because I keep looking for something real with men who are so…artificial. Why doesn't anyone love me?" She finishes quietly, more to herself more than Laurel. "Why can't I let anyone in?"

For a moment neither woman says anything. Then Laurel shifts her head so she can gaze up at Michaela. "You know…" Laurel begins slowly. "It's okay to show people that you care, Michaela. It's okay to let people take care of you." Michaela looks down into Laurel's blue-gray eyes and wants to believe it, but—

"I…I can't," she whispers.

Laurel takes Michaela's hands in her own, wanting to ease the uncertainty in Michaela's big brown eyes. "You can," she says more firmly, lifting herself up and looking at Michaela head-on now. Their faces are only inches apart and Laurel just knows she's going to kill the moment by holding on a second longer than is appropriate, but Michaela doesn't pull away. Without thinking, Laurel closes the space between them with a kiss, knowing Michaela will probably run for the hills and never come back.

Neither of them is surprised when Michaela jumps a little in shock when she feels Laurel's lips on hers. But both of them are surprised when Michaela remains where she is and returns the kiss. She runs her hand up Laurel's forearms, reveling in this new and different sensation, her lips exploring tentatively, shyly— and eagerly.

Laurel pulls away first.

She releases a breath she didn't even realize she was holding. "I was so scared you were gonna run away or something."

Michaela smiles nervously. "No."

"You can trust me, you know." Laurel says, her eyes pleading. "I want to take care of you." She leans her forehead against Michaela's.

"I know," Michaela says. For the first time in a long time, she truly believes what she's hearing.

"Is this okay?" Laurel whispers.

"Yes," Michaela whispers back.

This is all Laurel needs to hear, and she lunges for Michaela's lips again. Michaela, now that she knows what lies ahead this time, hungrily kisses her back. This is new but not unwanted and she's surprised at how happy and safe she feels, not to mention aroused. She lets Laurel's hands trail her body: one hand snakes around to the small of her back, the other slides downward and rests on her upper thigh. Michaela can feel herself becoming wet and both hopes yet doesn't hope that Laurel discovers this. She cradles Laurel's face gently and hesitantly extends her tongue.

The brunette welcomes this intrusion and for a moment their tongues gently spar, both of them tasting of Laurel's minty toothpaste. She moves her hand upward then, playing with the hem of Michaela's shorts, silently asking a question she isn't sure Michaela is ready to answer. But Michaela hesitantly opens her legs a little to allow her lover access. Laurel's fingers tenderly brush over Michaela though the shorts and she can feel the dampness there. She starts to rub small circles over her, and when Michaela starts to moan softly between breathy kisses, Laurel feels herself getting wet now and slips her hand inside the shorts, caressing Michaela's bare skin.

Michaela's eyes widen and she stiffens mid-kiss. Laurel stops moving her hand but keeps it in place.

"Too fast?" she asks.

"No…" Michaela shakes her head emphatically, a shy grin on her lips. "It feels good. I've never done this before."

"And you think I have?" Michaela just stares, daring her to deny it.

"Okay, so I have." Laurel kisses Michaela quickly before she can respond. "But I've always wanted to with you. I wanted to wipe that prim little sneer off your face." Both women smile and Laurel speaks again, a sly glint in her eyes. "I always wanted to hear what you sound like," she says as she massages Michaela in earnest now and swallows her moan with another kiss. "But I'll stop if you want me to."

"Don't stop," Michaela gasps.

"What was that?" Laurel increases speed.

"Don't stop!"

"You got it," Laurel says, pushing Michaela down on the bed and faces her so they lay on their sides. She allows her hand to linger down Michaela's back, then hip, then stops to grab her incredibly supple ass, spanking it lightly, then finally, finally, finally plunges her fingers underneath the crotch of the shorts again and Michaela reaches for her, hooking her leg around Laurel's. They kiss in tandem now, lips touching everything, anything. Michaela tosses Laurel's hair over her shoulder so she can trail kisses along her neck, stroking her hair and back tenderly. The sound of Michaela's moans fill the room until she grabs a fistful of Laurel's wavy hair suddenly, making her cry out.

"I wanted to know what you sound like, too." Michaela says playfully.

"You wanna compete against me? Bad idea…" Laurel laughs and slips a finger inside her friend, pleased when she hears Michaela's sharp intake of breath.

"You are so wet." Laurel observes gleefully. Michaela looks worried but Laurel kisses her deeply, reassuring her. "Hey, it's okay. Don't be ashamed of your body. I love this."

She goes in and out quickly and gently at first, but then slower and harder, wiggling her finger as Michaela writhes and moans against her.

Michaela can't think of anything except how good it feels, how right it feels. She wants— no, she needs— to feel as much of Laurel as she can, all at once. She never wants this to end. She can feel Laurel's erect nipples back and forth across her own as she grinds against her. She decides to feel them for herself, easily tugging down the thin cami neckline, the strap sliding off Laurel's pale shoulder. She plays with one breast, cupping its softness in her palm, and rolling its hard nipple between her fingers, making Laurel arch her back and gasp out something in Spanish, Michaela isn't sure what so she pauses. Laurel's breathing is ragged now.

"I said: 'do that again.'"

Michaela does as she's told and finds she enjoys being in control. She smiles. "You mean this?"

"Yessss…" Laurel manages to utter.

"Or this?" Michaela pinches her nipple this time, making Laurel cry out again. "Or did you mean this?" She leans her head down and gives the nipple her mouth's attention, licking and kissing and biting. She smirks as Laurel begins to gasp, entirely carried away in the feeling of Michaela's tongue. She pulls away, her hands heading between her own legs when Michaela grabs her wrist and rolls on top of her.

"Did I say you could stop?"

Laurel is baffled by this turn of events and looks up, happily confused.

"N-no…?"

"Then why did you?" Michaela raises her eyebrow demandingly.

"I didn't know you'd be so hot for me." Laurel rises up and pushes up the big Brown tee that Michaela has on. "Take this off. I want to look at you." The baggy shirt now discarded, Michaela sits in Laurel's lap wearing nothing but the tiny shorts, looking bashful.

"You're beautiful," Laurel says simply. And with that she shifts them so they're laying properly in the bed and she straddles Michaela this time.

She leans down to kiss her conquest, her dark hair covering them both like a curtain of midnight. Slowly she moves her head downwards, kissing Michaela's neck, her collarbone, the tops of her breasts, and then she takes Michaela's full breasts into her hands to play with as she grinds on top of her, her own shorts becoming soaked. She caresses, she kneads, she grabs, she flicks the nipples sharply between her adept fingers, loving their hardness. Laurel knows what she's doing, and she knows what it's doing to Michaela.

"Does that hurt?"

Michaela nods frantically, whimpering softly.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No…n-no," Michaela gasps.

"So you like this?"

Michaela nods again and Laurel smirks. She keeps one breast in her hand, rolling the nipple, as she leans back and inserts two fingers now into Michaela who squeals. Laurel looks at her in alarm but Michaela shakes her head, apparently beyond real speech. "Good," Laurel says wickedly, extending her fingers as far as they can possibly go, then she slips them out and repeats the process for a few agonizing minutes, stretching a groaning and panting Michaela.

"Laurel…"

"That's my name."

"Laurel!"

"I…I…"

Her blue eyes gleaming, the other woman guesses what's happening. "Are you close?"

"I…yes." Michaela turns her head away in shame. "But I probably can't do it."

"Hey…" Laurel says gently. "Hey. Don't be afraid of that. I'm gonna make sure you get your first big O. But you gotta learn to ask for what you want."

For the second time that night, Michaela's eyes widen.

"You want it? Beg for it. You want it? You gotta ask for it." Laurel challenges, her hands going still.

"Laurel…I can't," Michaela whines.

"Yes. You can." Laurel waits.

"I…I want…want…"

"Yeeeeeees?" Laurel prompts.

"I WANNA CUM, OKAY?"

Laurel flashes her a big smile and hops off her, crouching below and pulling her shorts off with gusto.

"And I want to taste you."

Michaela looks like she's going to pass out.

Laurel watches carefully as she circles Michaela's clit a few times and plunges a finger into her glistening wetness until her willing victim is almost struggling to breathe. Then she kneels down and flicks her tongue over Michaela's clit as her finger pumps away beneath. When her finger gets drenched and wrinkly, she removes it and then laps at Michaela using her tongue, then she switches back to her clit, going faster and faster back and forth. And then again.

And again.

Michaela clutches at Laurel's hair to keep it out of the way but also to hold on to something for dear life as she pants, moans, whimpers…She didn't know how anything could feel so incredible. She feels something rising within her, a strange and indescribable wave that she feels like she's riding, getting tenser and tenser over time, the more and more she feels Laurel's skilled tongue inside her and then suddenly— the tight coiling inside her is released.

She screams, her thighs quivering in a vice-grip on either side of Laurel's face as she orgasms. After a few seconds her body relaxes and she sighs contentedly as she comes down from her ecstatic high. Laurel slowly sits up and wipes her mouth languorously, never taking her eyes off Michaela.

"Was the big moment as good as you imagined it'd be?"

"Mm-hmm…" Michaela sighs contentedly, pulling Laurel up so she can hold her close. "You were good."

Laurel hugs Michaela tightly and kisses her forehead, smoothing her hair. "I told you I'd take care of you."

Michaela giggles. "You did."

"And now it's your turn."

A/N: Hope this was full of lemon-y goodness for y'all. I wanted to end it here because from the show, it definitely seems like Michaela needed to be drawn out of her shell more than Laurel. Leave a review and let me know if you liked it!