This fic is Amy/Jasmine leading to Amy/Lauren, unbeta'd, something I came up with while half-asleep the other day, and probably crackfic, though I still haven't made up my mind about that last bit.

(Blame Dak. He encouraged me.)

Title from "Light It Up" by OneRepublic.

"And then she asked me to have a threesome with her and Liam, and I agreed because I thought that meant she wanted to have sex with me, but once we started she panicked and backed out and she hasn't spoken to me since."

Jasmine just blinks at her, then sinks into Amy's desk chair and blinks some more. "Oh, man."

Amy shrugs, staring down at her feet hanging over the edge of her bed. "You said to call you if things crashed and burned, so."

"Yes, I did," she replies, and her voice sounds distant, like she's still digesting everything Amy's told her in the past half hour.

"Does that mean you have some really great advice on what to do when a threesome backfires?" Amy asks, and she's only sort of kidding.

Jasmine laughs a little. "No, unfortunately. But to be fair, I was never in a fake relationship with my best friend, so this is new territory for the both of us."

"I just…" Amy sighs. "I can't help feeling like I messed up. There had to have been something I did wrong, or else—"

"Don't even go there," Jasmine interrupts. "All you've ever done to this girl is say yes, which means anything she's upset about is on her."

Amy collapses backward onto her comforter and covers her face with her palms, then takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.

"Hey, can I be honest with you?" Jasmine asks, and it's the first time she's ever sounded less than one-hundred percent confident.

Amy's stomach tenses in anticipation. "Yeah, of course."

Jasmine doesn't speak right away. "Okay, look. I don't want to burst your bubble or anything, and I've never met Karma in person so it's not… you deserve way better, dude. And I'm not saying it like she's a horrible person across the board, because from what you've told me, I know she's a kick-ass best friend."

Something in Amy's chest tightens.

"But girl, she is a shitty significant other. Well, a shitty fake significant other. God, why on earth would you agree to all this crap?"

"Because I'm an idiot," Amy groans.

"That was a rhetorical question. It's because you love her enough to put her feelings before yours. And normally that's fine for the most part, but in this case… You deserve someone who isn't an emotional tease and who doesn't constantly give you mixed signals."

Amy studies the stars on her ceiling. "That's easier said than done. No one else at Hester is out, I'm the worst flirt in the history of lesbian youth, and the whole SYZZR thing's been a bust—"

"That's not entirely true."

She props herself on her elbows and sees Jasmine wearing a playful smile. "Okay, maybe not a complete bust."

Jasmine laughs a little and wets her lips, and now it looks like she's steeling herself for something.

"What is it?" Amy makes herself ask.

"I want to, um—okay, let me preface this by saying that I have no intention of dating you. At least not right now, because you're a babygay and you should figure yourself out before you commit to anyone." Suddenly her eyes widen. "Oh my god, I'm giving you an 'I just want to be friends' speech when that's probably the last thing you want to hear from anyone right now…" She shakes her head to clear it and pinches the bridge of her nose. "You know what? That's not the point."

Amy cocks an eyebrow. "Okay…?"

"The point is, I can't give you exactly what you want. I can't make Karma love you back, or make the perfect girlfriend drop out of the sky. But what I can do is give you an orgasm."

Now Amy sits up and tries not to choke on her own saliva. "I'm sorry, what?"

Jasmine rolls her eyes; maybe at Amy, maybe at herself. "Look. I know that sounds weird, but hear me out—you're a cool girl, and you deserve so much more than someone always making you feel like shit." She shrugs like this is the most nonchalant conversation two people could be having. "Let me make you feel awesome. No strings attached."

It's Amy's turn to stare at her. "You…" She clears her throat. "You want to have sex with me?"

"Yeah," she replies with another shrug. "So you can take a break from thinking about this soap opera bullshit. And for educational purposes. You'll know what to do when your future girlfriend shows up," she says, ending the sentence with a wink.

Amy swallows hard and sets her hands in her lap so Jasmine won't see how much they're suddenly shaking. "U-um, sure," she chokes out, because this only seems slightly less outlandish than the threesome proposal, and the idea of giving another person the chance to bail on their own idea makes her feel a bit queasy.

"Hey," Jasmine says gently, "this isn't about me convincing you to do something. If you're comfortable with this, then we'll go for it; if you're not, then I'll take it all back and we'll move on." She leans forward so her elbows are resting on her knees. "What do you want?"

Amy opens her mouth and closes it again. "I want to say something hot and seductive, but I'm really terrible at not sounding like a straight boy on OK Cupid."

"Is that a yes?" Jasmine asks with a surprisingly shy grin.

Instead of answering, Amy scoots over a little on the bed and pats the spot next to her. Jasmine takes her time getting out of the chair and joining Amy, and by the time Jasmine puts a hand on her shoulder and tells her to breathe, it's a very necessary reminder.

Amy doesn't quite manage to hold in her nervous laugh, and then Jasmine's face is very, very close.

"Do you remember when you kissed me in the middle of my Vespa story?" she asks, Amy can feel Jasmine's breath against her cheek.

"I thought we were going to pretend that never happened," Amy murmurs, her eyes dipping to the lips that are barely a few inches from hers.

Jasmine pulls away to throw her a cheeky grin, then closes the distance between them all at once, and the kiss tastes like strawberry lip balm.

.

She still hasn't quite caught her breath by the time Jasmine gets off the bed and starts to put her shoes on.

"Are you sure you don't want me to…?" Amy begins, rolling onto her side so her head is resting on her arm.

Jasmine dismisses the question with a wave of her hand. "Nah. I told you, don't worry about it."

Amy bites her lower lip and waits a long moment before speaking again. "Thank you," she says quietly.

"It was the least I could do," Jasmine replies, grabbing her beanie from Amy's desk. "I wish I could help with the rest, dude."

She shrugs her free shoulder. "I'll figure it out."

Jasmine nods. "Let me know how it goes, okay?"

"I will."

She touches two fingers to her forehead and salutes, then lets herself out and leaves Amy to think about the tiny sparks still coursing through her body, about how it felt to finally have someone touch her the way she's been wanting the most.

But ugh, now she's thinking about Karma again, and she rolls her eyes at herself and grabs her jeans and t-shirt from the floor. Once she's fully dressed she heads to the bathroom to take a shower, or maybe just check in the mirror and see if she looks any different—

"Fuck," she blurts when she opens the door to find Lauren brushing her teeth, standing right in front of the doorway like she's been waiting for her. "How long have you been—?"

"Hours."

"I didn't realize you were—"

"Still home?" She leans over the sink to spit. "I kind of figured, since you didn't seem to try to keep any of that quiet," she says, nodding toward Amy's bedroom.

Amy tries to suck in some oxygen. "I—I'm sorry you had to, um… I'm really—"

"Is Karma gone?" Lauren asks, brushing another row of teeth and spitting in the sink again.

"Uh…" She clears her throat. "Yes. She, um. She went home."

"Good," Lauren replies, rinsing off her toothbrush, putting it in its rack, and grabbing Amy's arm. "I need to speak with you," she says, pulling Amy back toward her own bedroom.

"Look, if it's about—I can guarantee you that won't be a regular thing—it was just—"

Lauren closes the door behind them and swings Amy around so she's standing next to the bed. "Sit," she instructs, and Amy obeys, and now she takes a deep breath. "I never sound like that," she states abruptly after a long moment, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.

Amy wonders how bewildered she looks. "What do you mean, you never—?"

"When Tommy and I have sex, I never make noises like that. Unless I'm faking it. Which I only do sometimes, obviously, because most of the time it feels good." Her posture is rigid and Amy can't believe Lauren is looking her square in the eye for this whole speech. "But it doesn't feel great. And whatever you were doing in there…" She sighs tightly. "It sounded pretty great."

Amy's eyebrow is once again sky-high. "Uh… yeah, I guess Jas—I mean, Karma really knows what she's doing." The words burn her throat as she says them, and she hopes Lauren doesn't notice.

But Lauren isn't even looking in her direction, her eyes bouncing from the floor to the window to just about anywhere else in the room but Amy's. "I need you to show me."

"I'm sorry, what?" she manages after a beat, because apparently this is some weird Groundhog-Day thing where people keep proposing bizarre things without batting an eyelash.

"I need to be able to tell him what to do differently. I've tried experimenting on my own, but…" She clears her throat. "It's not the same. So I need you to show me what you and Karma do."

Amy's mind is reeling with all of the reasons why that's impossible. "I-I've never—that wasn't—"

"What, have you guys been faking the sex, too? Though honestly, what's even the point of that? I'm the only one from school who would hear you."

"That's not why—"

"Is it the infidelity thing? Because I heard a rumor that you two were in an open relationship, and you moralistic hippies rarely spread false gossip."

Amy has no idea how to even begin to explain herself. "It's not… it's complicated, okay?"

Lauren's eyes are on the floor now as she chews the inside of her cheek. "You know what? Forget it. You clearly want no part in this, so just forget it." She storms over to her desk and sits down with a huff, furiously typing God knows what into her phone.

But Amy hasn't gotten up from the bed yet. She's thinking, thinking really hard about what Jasmine did and what Lauren is asking her to do, and about how she could easily just walk back to her own room and pretend this whole conversation never happened.

Or.

"Laur—" she begins, and her voice cracks. "Lauren."

"What," Lauren snaps without turning around.

Amy swallows hard. "Come here."

"And why would I do that?"

She shifts on the bed so she's facing Lauren. "I'm not all that experienced, okay?" She pauses for a beat. "But I'll show you what I know, if you want."

Lauren glances over her shoulder, though she's still not quite looking at Amy. "Really?"

Amy nods several more times than necessary, maybe enough to convince the both of them that she means it. "Really."

"Okay then," Lauren says brightly, like she's about to give a classmate instructions on how to prepare for a fundraiser, and takes a seat next to Amy. "So, where do we start?"

Amy takes a deep breath. "Well…" she mutters, then leans forward, only to have Lauren balk at the closeness.

"What are you doing?"

"Have you ever had sex without kissing the person first?"

Her shoulders sag thoughtfully. "No, I guess not." She clears her throat. "Okay, whatever."

They both lean in this time, though they have some trouble coordinating where exactly their mouths are supposed to go, and Amy pulls back again.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Shut your fucking trap and kiss me," she snaps.

Amy does, and the kiss is deep but short. "Is that okay?" she asks, searching Lauren's eyes for any sign of disgust.

"Jesus Christ, do you ask Karma for feedback every five seconds, too?"

"Well, no, but—"

"Then let's go," Lauren interrupts, and now she's the one pressing her mouth against Amy's and the hesitation on both sides is gone.

Amy is on her back before she can take another breath; not that she's really breathing anymore to begin with, because Lauren is using her tongue like they've done this a million times, whereas her kisses with Karma have always been simple and sweet.

This is, like, pornographic.

Lauren sits up to slip her shirt off and Amy can feel her eyes go wide as saucers. "Well?" Lauren asks expectantly.

"Huh?" Amy says, struggling to move her gaze back up.

"Aren't you going to touch them? Jesus, it's like you've never seen boobs before."

"I-I've seen them," she stutters, "I just haven't—uh—"

Lauren gives her a look. "You've never touched? Seriously?"

"I told you, I'm not the most experienced—"

"Oh, for the love of God," Lauren interrupts, then takes Amy's hands and presses them to her own chest. "Boob-handling 101. Palm and squeeze." She waits a beat, but Amy is frozen again. "Amy," she barks, "squeeze."

That snaps her out of it. "What? Oh," she manages, then finally obeys, and Lauren tilts her head like she's weighing the effectiveness of Amy's touches.

"That could use some work," she concludes, "but let's move on." Lauren rolls off of Amy and onto her back, then gestures impatiently for Amy to get on top of her.

"So I guess, um," Amy mumbles during the brief moments her mouth isn't covered by Lauren's, "just let me know when you're ready to…"

"Mhmm," she feels more than hears against her lips. "In the meantime, you should probably take off my pants."

Amy's fingers search blindly for Lauren's button and zipper then stumble through the process in their hurry to get back to her chest, but with some teamwork, she and Lauren finally manage to get her jeans into a heap on the floor. She settles back on top of Lauren and her movements are a little more hesitant now given Lauren's lack of clothes, and she freezes when their hips slide together and something flickers across Lauren's face.

"Is that okay?" Amy asks, "Are you—?"

"I'm fine," Lauren says, then wets her lips. "And I think I'm ready, also."

Amy's throat is having trouble with sounds. "Like, you're ready ready?"

"Do you remember when we drove to Dallas and you and Karma played Twenty Questions?"

"Yeah."

"It was annoying then, too."

Amy nods once. "Got it," she says, and takes a deep breath. "So… you're ready."

Lauren glares at her.

"That wasn't a question! It was a statement for you to confirm or deny." Lauren's facial expression doesn't change. "I'll stop talking now," she mumbles, then presses their lips together and begins to carefully tuck her hand inside the lace between Lauren's legs.

Their kisses slow when Amy's fingertips meet wetness, then stop altogether as they dance around Lauren's entrance. Amy is frozen again, unused to touching anyone besides herself, and it's just kind of… wow.

"What's the hold-up? It's not like you're the first person who's been down there. Are you waiting for permission or something?"

Amy feels her cheeks flush red as she shrugs. "Well… yeah."

"You have it," Lauren snaps. "Now can you please get on with the feature presentation?"

"Right. Um." Amy tries to remember how Jasmine started, and cautiously rubs against the bundle of nerves she can feel peeking out.

Lauren's breath hitches audibly and she clears her throat; they make eye contact and Lauren cuts Amy off before she can say anything. "Keep going."

Amy nods and works her clit a little bit more, then dips back down to her entrance and slowly pushes two fingers inside, and it's warm and wet and tight and she feels a jolt of electricity in her stomach.

"You know you have to move around and stuff, right?"

"Yeah, I know," Amy retorts, "Just give me a second, okay?"

Lauren opens her mouth to say something else but Amy flexes her fingers, curling them so they press against Lauren's walls in what she hopes are all the right places, and she's not sure if she's found the spot, but it's certainly enough to turn Lauren's words into a tight sigh.

She repeats the motions a few more times, trying different finger positions, pushing and twisting until she's not even sure what she's doing anymore; but then she shifts so she can put her full body weight against the back of her palm, and the next thrust has a genuine moan escaping from Lauren's throat.

They exchange glances and Lauren nods quickly, so Amy does it again and again and again and listens to Lauren's volume rise little by little, watches her clutch at the sheets, feels her hips lift off the mattress until Amy has to use her free arm to hold them still.

And then everything tightens, and Lauren's noises become particularly high-pitched, and Amy slows her movements.

"Whoa," Lauren pants when Amy finally removes her hand and wipes it on Lauren's comforter.

Amy doesn't respond, just swallows hard and lets Lauren catch her breath for a moment as she tries to ignore the sudden moisture burning behind her eyes. "So, did that help?" she asks quietly.

Lauren is staring up at the ceiling. "I think so," she replies, still a little breathless. "Definitely educational." She glances over the edge of the bed. "Can you hand me my shirt?"

Amy reaches down and grabs it off the floor, then gives it to Lauren and rolls onto her back. She can feel her bottom lip trembling and she clears her throat, because this is not the time to be thinking about Karma and certainly not the time to be thinking about what almost happened between them in that stupid motel room…

"Are you okay?" Lauren asks as she pulls the shirt back over her head

Amy sniffs and nods, even though Lauren can't even see her at the moment. "Yeah, I'm—I'm fine."

"God, you're not one of those people who cries after sex, are you?"

"No," she says with a soft laugh.

Lauren frowns at her. "Then what's wrong with you?"

Amy chews her bottom lip, thinking about the plastic stars on her own ceiling and how this one is completely bare. "Things with Karma are really fucked up right now," she mutters.

Her eyes narrow. "How fucked up are we talking?"

She wants to say something funny, because there's no way Lauren actually wants to hear any of this, but she's thinking about everything that's happened between her and Karma since Shane's stupid party, from their kiss at the homecoming rally to the look on Karma's face right before she bolted from the motel, and the weight of it all sends a tear rolling down her temple before she can stop it.

"Oh, shit," Lauren whispers and sits up a little.

Amy quickly wipes the moisture away. "It's fine, we don't have to, um—I usually talk to Shane about it. Which is ironic, since he pretty much started the whole—"

"Wait, this is all Shane's fault?" Lauren shifts a pillow to make herself more comfortable and gives Amy her full attention. "Tell me everything."

.

"That motherfucker," Lauren snaps as she wrings the neck of one of her teddy bears. "Strutting around Hester like he's some Gay Jesus when all he does is ruin innocent people's lives. He's not Gay Jesus, he's fucking Regina George."

"I mean…" Amy shrugs. "He had good intentions, and he did help me realize—stuff."

"Oh come on. He forced you to fake-date your best friend, and gave you permission to have a threesome with Liam Booker when it was clearly a terrible idea—"

"Yeah, but to be fair, he never actually picked up the phone during most of that thought process."

Lauren points a very stern finger at her. "But it was his voice in your head, so it still counts."

"But he also agreed to be my date for prom, and he's been amazingly supportive of my quest to find someone who will help me get over Karma. He's not all bad."

Lauren rolls her eyes and pitches the bear across the room. "And he did help me take a sexy photo to send to Tommy…"

Amy arches an eyebrow.

She clears her throat. "Never mind. So, this girl Jasmine. Why not just date her?"

"She specifically told me she won't date a babygay. If anything ever happened between us, it would be way later."

Lauren huffs and crosses her arms. "What a bitch. You'd be a great girlfriend."

The corner of Amy's mouth curls into a playful grin. "You really think so?"

She gets a noncommittal shrug. "I asked you to have sex with me, didn't I?"

"Why did you do that?" Amy asks carefully, looking Lauren square in the eye. "I know what you said, but it's just—it's not really something…"

"I know it's not," Lauren mumbles, and something about her suddenly seems smaller.

Amy tries to pinpoint the emotion on her face. "You can trust me, I promise."

Lauren's eyes meet hers for a beat. "You won't tell anyone?"

"I won't tell anyone."

She sighs, chewing on her thumbnail for a long moment. "I think I…" She leans toward Amy without making eye contact. "I think I might be a bisexual," she whispers, and immediately returns to her previous position.

Amy opens her mouth and closes it again. "Really?" she finally asks. "Like, you're serious?"

"Yes, I'm serious," she hisses, "and if you tell anyone—"

"I swear I won't, okay? I'm not the outing type."

Lauren's expression is icy again. "That motherfucker," she grumbles, and she's back to chewing her thumbnail.

"So, like…" Now it's Amy's turn to sit up. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"What's there to talk about?" Lauren snaps. "I've been thinking it for a while, but my dad's not going to be okay with it and Tommy will just want to have a threesome and… and everyone would make way too big a deal out of Lauren Cooper not being straight." Her lungs are heaving by the time she's done, and then she scoots down in the bed until she's lying flat on her back again.

Amy takes a deep breath and mirrors Lauren's position, but rolls onto her side instead. "There's that," she says softly.

"Look, it's not a big deal, okay? I'm going to graduate and then go to college and then experiment like everyone else does and get it all out of my system."

"Or you might just be bi," Amy says with a small shrug.

She doesn't respond right away. "My dad will freak."

"You never know, dude. My mom took it well enough."

Lauren shakes her head. "You've never heard him talk about how he can't wait to have a son-in-law. Going to Longhorns games, playing golf every Sunday…" Her tone is carefully neutral. "He's got it all planned out."

Amy hears the fear and anxiety in Lauren's voice and thinks about what she and Karma do when the other is upset, and before she can overthink it she moves over and wraps her arm around Lauren's waist, resting her head on Lauren's chest. "That could still happen, y'know. The whole point of bisexuality is that there's more than one option. So your dad might get an awesome son-in-law who likes football and golf… or he might get an awesome daughter-in-law who's into knitting and Grey's Anatomy. Or who knows—she might love sports, too. Fuck sexist stereotypes, am I right?"

Lauren is silent for a long time, and Amy starts to wonder whether she's digesting information or just waiting for Amy to get off of her.

Finally, Lauren sighs. "Why do you have that doughnut shirt?"

"Why are you asking?"

"Because I can't be friends with someone who owns a doughnut shirt."

Amy smiles against Lauren's collarbone. "Did Jesus say that?"

"No. I just have standards."

Her eyes are closed now, and she's not really sure when that happened. "Hey, Lauren?"

Lauren's inhales and exhales are starting to slow. "Yeah?"

"Say 'croquembouche' one more time."

"Shut your fucking trap."

.

She vaguely registers a distant voice and a knocking sound, but it's only the sudden blinding sunlight in her face that finally wakes her up.

"Amy? What are you doing in here?"

Her eyes snap open at the sound of her mom's voice, which seems to wake Lauren up as well; they both bolt up in bed and Amy blurts "Mom!" while Lauren says "Farrah!"

"Um…" Amy begins, exchanging glances with Lauren, "We were just—"

"Talking!" Lauren interrupts. "We spent the night talking. You know, getting to know each other. And we decided to have a sleepover."

There's an excruciating moment of Farrah glancing between the two of them as she pulls up the other window shade, but then she smiles and covers her heart with her palm. "Oh, girls, how sweet. I'm so proud of you for making an effort to get along better!"

Amy gives her what she hopes is a convincing smile and drapes her arm around Lauren's shoulders. "Turns out, we have a lot more in common than we thought we did."

Farrah is still beaming. "Well, I'll let you two get back to your bonding." She turns to leave, but then stops in the doorway and glances over her shoulder. "Oh, and Amy, tell Karma I think I found one of her shirts in the laundry. She's welcome to come get it any time."

"I'll, um—let her know," Amy manages, and even though she knows her smile just got a lot more mechanical, Farrah leaves the room without a fuss.

"A lot more in common?" Lauren snaps the second she's out the door and shoves Amy's arm away. "Are you crazy?"

Amy rolls her eyes. "That's a good point, I'm sure 'attracted to girls' was the first thing she thought of when I said that."

"Keep your voice down," she hisses, glancing at the closed door. "And just to reiterate, you're not going to tell anyone about that. Or this," she says, gesturing between them and the bed, "Or anything. Got it?"

"I got it," Amy replies with a nod, then decides this is her queue to go and gets out of the bed. "This doesn't have to be a one-time thing, you know." The second the words leave her mouth, her cheeks flush red. "The talking, I mean." She shrugs and buries her hands in her back pockets. "If you need anything…"

Lauren nods. "Thank you," she says, sounding sincere even though she's clearly trying to seem apathetic.

Amy sees herself out and is almost back to her own room when she hears Lauren's voice again.

"Get rid of that fucking doughnut shirt."

"Only if you buy me a kraken-bush."

"It's called a croquembouche."

There's a beat of silence, followed by a grumbled "Goddamnit," and Amy smiles to herself as she closes the door behind her.