Archive of Our Own

“Elphie, tell me a secret,” Galinda pleads, lower lip popped out in a faux pout, propping herself up against her plush headboard. 

Darkness has long since fallen, the only light in the room provided by the numerous pink-hued lamps, and even the shadows have taken on a bit of a romantic glow. It’s late, later than either of them should be awake with classes so early in the morning, but Galinda cannot resist these quiet moments—moments between just the two of them where her facade can fall and her shoulders can follow and she can be herself—and Elphaba cannot resist Galinda, so this is a situation they find themselves in more often than not. 

“I think I’m running out of secrets to tell you,” Elphaba laughs, her sincerity almost a secret in itself. 

Her braids are gathered into two larger braids for the night, though one loose tendril has wormed its way out of the hold, having absolutely zero right to be as enticing as it is. Galinda’s eyes follow it like a cat watching a bird—little c’s and b’s, thank you very much! Galinda has learned a lot about the difference between Animals and animals from her best friend. 

“How can that be? You have twenty years of secrets to divulgify, a whole year more than I do. You really should be telling me two a night, to even it out. It’s only fair.” 

Galinda pouts for emphasis, conveying as much sadness as she can through her eyes. That is to say, none at all. Elphaba has always been able to see right through her. 

“Not fair, huh? Well, we can’t have that, now can we, my sweet? We know how important fairness is to you.” 

And oh, yes, there’s also this development, slight and insignificant as it may seem. My sweet, as in Galinda is sweet. My sweet, as in Elphie’s. These descriptors and possessives may seem fine on their own but when they’re paired together, with Galinda, with Elphaba, with the hard to place but all-encompassing something Galinda feels in her chest whenever Elphie is around, or even whenever Elphie fills her thoughts, they are far beyond fine. 

No matter. Galinda can hardly worry herself with sorting through feelings and flutterings and the occasional dream (not that kind of dream, truly) while Elphaba sits across from her, head tilted expectantly, smirk pulling ever so slightly at the corner of her lips. 

“How important fairness is to everyone, Elphie,” Galinda reminds her, shaking her head and dragging her gaze away from Elphaba’s mouth.

“Of course,” Elphaba agrees, because of course she does. 

Her lips quirk up once more, not that Galinda is looking, and reveal a small but genuine smile. Galinda’s heart somersaults in her chest. She can’t possibly be to blame for what’s to come.

“Alright, Elphie, you win. Just this once, so don’t get used to it!” She warns, finger wagging in Elphaba’s direction, sternness and pink light painted across her features in equal measure. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it, my sweet,” and oh, oh, Galinda really can’t be blamed for what she does next.

Galinda tosses her hair, patting her cheeks to rid them of residual warmth, grateful for her bedside lamp’s already rosaceous glow. 

“I suppose I’ll go first! Think of a secret to tell me later.” 

Elphaba’s eyes soften, almost as if—no, but that’s a trick of the light. 

“Okay, Galinda.”

Galinda grins, victorious in something she isn’t quite sure of yet. She turns completely in her bed, body angled towards Elphaba, a plant towards the sun. There’s a green joke in there somewhere, Galinda is sure, but she wouldn’t dream of finding it. 

She thinks of something, then, a secret discovered and plucked from her mind with eager fingers, dropped in her mouth for the telling. Galinda frowns, the taste of the words unfamiliar on her tongue. 

Elphaba watches all the while, something akin to fondness etched across her face. 

Galinda starts, tentative. A new look for her. 

“I’m not… I don’t want to be with Fiyero. In that way.”

“That way?” Elphaba repeats, and Galinda can’t tell if she’s asking for her own clarification or allowing Galinda the freedom to articulate herself exactly how she wants. Probably both, knowing her Elphie. Galinda can’t help but smile, just a tad.

“I don’t want to have sex. With Fiyero.” 

There, she’s said it, a randomly discovered, surprisingly sour, unearthed truth. 

“Then don’t,” Elphaba replies, not a trace of disingenuity to be found, and Galinda rolls her eyes. Fondly, of course, always fondly.

“It isn’t that simple.” 

Galinda thumbs over the silky fabric of her sheets, tracing imaginary lines in the satin until she’s sure she’s worn a hole all the way through. She hazards a look across the room and Elphaba is looking right back, concentration in her features like Galinda is a puzzle she’d quite like to solve. Galinda wonders what exactly she would find. 

“Why not?” Elphaba asks at last, earnestly and without judgment, and oh, this is why Galinda likes her so much, one of the many reasons why she wants to keep her close and never lose her as a friend. Elphaba doesn’t have a mean bone in her body. When she asks something, it’s because she wants to understand for the sake of it, to know Galinda better, to connect with her more fully. With Elphaba, Galinda never needs to worry about her secrets being used against her. 

“Well, it’s sort of expected of me, isn’t it?” 

Only, she’s not really asking. Whether or not they agree with the sentiment, they both know it to be true. 

“A lot of things are expected of us all. That doesn’t mean we have to do them.” Elphaba says it so calmly, as if there is no room for argument and she dares someone to try. Still, she isn’t unkind, doing her best to keep her tone even, soften her words around the edges, and it’s all so very Elphaba that Galinda has to catch her breath before continuing. 

“It isn’t… he isn’t a bad guy, is the thing. He’s quite the gentleman, a prince in every way.” 

She leans forward, closing more of the distance between them as she lowers her voice, keeping to the secretive nature of the exchange. 

Elphaba, for her part, leans in as well, and since their beds have been slowly migrating towards one another since the Ozdust, there is not much space left between them. Perhaps a Hare’s breadth, if you could convince one to come in here and stand as a unit of measurement. 

“You don’t need to explain yourself, Galinda.” 

Elphaba means it, means everything she says, and she looks so convinced of herself and of Galinda that Galinda can’t help but smile. 

“I know, Elphie,” she reassures her friend, and the warmth she feels makes her wish there wasn’t any space left between them at all. “My body doesn’t… react to him, that way. If you know what I mean.” 

And oh, the warmth rushing through her now is very different than before, spurring her to move back, stay away, burrow beneath the covers until it goes away.

“Oh. I guess.” 

Elphaba is terrible. Elphaba is evil, despicable, drawing this out and not immediately sweeping it under the carpet, so to speak. 

Galinda gives into the urge and hides her face. She’s been mature enough for the day, she thinks. She’ll allow herself this one indulgence. 

“Galinda, I didn’t mean it like that.” 

Elphaba leans forward even closer, clearly ignoring Galinda’s shame-fueled wishes. Her presence calms Galinda all the same.

“How did you mean it?” Galinda mumbles from between her fingers, cheeks warm beneath her palms. 

“I meant I wouldn’t know either way. I’ve never… felt that.” 

“Never?” Galinda exclaims, unable to help herself. There are so many places her brain would like to go it cannot even begin to start planning a route. She’s jumped off her bed entirely, altogether forgetting her plan to become one with her mattress.

Now it’s Elphaba’s turn to be embarrassed, something Galinda never could have expected to be so precious. Are her cheeks darkening, too? Oh, these cursed pink lights! Maybe Elphaba had been onto something at the start after all.

“Never,” Elphaba confirms, eyes trained on the wall behind her friend rather than the girl herself. “Is that so hard to believe?” She chuckles, self-effacement thick in her throat. 

Galinda’s eyes snap upright at that.

“You don’t need to defend me, Galinda, even to myself.” 

Galinda would argue that isn’t true, is the opposite of truth, the complete antithesis of anything that should or could or would ever be believed by anyone with half a brain—

“Until we became friends, nobody had ever looked at me with anything more than the absence of disgust.” 

Something about the way Elphaba says it, as if it's an indisputable fact and not the most heartbreaking thing Galinda has ever heard, shakes Galinda to her core. It’s the truth, Galinda knows, even if that truth is terribly unfair and unfairly terrible and entirely the opposite of what her Elphie deserves. Still, there isn’t much Galinda can do to change it, not without the ability to time travel back to Elphaba’s birth, something Galinda would gladly do if not for the impossibility of the task and the questionable morality of it all. 

What she can do is make sure Elphaba understands how perfect she is.

“You’re beautiful, Elphie.” She makes sure to catch Elphaba’s eyes when she says this, holding her breath and bracing for her immediate exit. “I mean it,” she adds before Elphaba can run. 

“Yes, well… it seems you’re the only person to ever think that.” 

They both blush this time, Galinda’s sure, though she can’t quite make it out in the dark. She just knows these things. No matter—if there is one thing Galinda can do, it’s getting out of any situation. It’s how she’s avoided being with Fiyero so long, the catalyst of this entire conversation in the first place.

“What about on your own?” Galinda blurts out, and okay, perhaps she has overestimated her abilities just this once. 

“On my own?” Elphaba repeats, though Galinda knows her friend isn’t looking for clarification, if her wide eyes and dropped jaw are anything to go by. 

“Yeah, you know,” and because Galinda has never learned to hold herself back when it comes to one Elphaba Thropp, she raises her hand and mimes something entirely untoward with her fingers. She throws herself back onto her bed, weighing the merits of suffocating herself in the duvet. 

“Um,” Elphaba clears her throat, shifting in her seat on her bed—or so Galinda imagines, since she refuses to open her eyes. “No,” she continues, clearing it again. “I never saw the point.” 

“What?” Galinda shrieks, embarrassment all but forgotten as she jerks upright and gapes at her best friend. 

Her emotions truly are all over the place today.

“You’ve never…” she trails off. This is something Galinda can’t wrap her mind around, though not for a lack of trying. She doesn’t get very far before gasping sharply and cutting herself off, overwhelmed by the visuals of Elphaba and what she could be wrapped around. Galinda shakes her head, deciding now is not the time to ride that train of thought (or anything else).

“Is that strange?” Elphaba asks, that familiar insecurity rearing its ugly head, and Galinda is by her side in a heartbeat. 

“No, Oz, Elphie, of course not!” 

She takes Elphaba’s hands in her own, squeezing them in reassurance. 

“There is no rulebook for these sorts of things.” 

Ironic, perhaps, since Galinda has been following an imaginary rulebook her entire life.

“I only meant… Well, you deserve to feel good, is all.” 

“Oh,” Elphaba replies, and that’s it. Neither of them speaks for a moment. Neither of them moves. It’s as if an Elephant has entered the room and nobody is brave enough to mention it. 

Elphaba’s hands are still in her own, Galinda realizes. This is something she probably should rectify, but moving seems like the worst idea she’s ever had. Besides, she can feel Elphaba’s pulse through her skin, where pale fingers meet slender wrists, and something about the contact has her head spinning. Although, now that she thinks about it, that could be the lack of oxygen; it’s been a while since she’s taken a breath.

Galinda is about to say something, about to backtrack, when Elphaba speaks up. 

“I wouldn’t know where to start.” 

The pulse is stronger beneath her fingers now, doubling, and the blood is rushing in Galinda’s ears, and she can’t tell where Elphaba’s heartbeat ends and her own begins. She feels her own heartbeat everywhere: against her battered ribs, through the delicate skin of her neck, in her own fingertips, between her legs—

“Do you want help?” Retract that previous statement! Galinda’s heart has stopped altogether.

“Don’t make fun of me,” Elphaba mutters, pulling her hands back into her lap. 

Her face goes carefully blank but she’s betrayed by her eyes; they shine with the humiliated shock of someone who’s just been slapped and desperately doesn’t want to cry. 

Galinda’s face, in turn, displays an entire spectrum of emotions, working its way from confusion to panic to grief.

“I’m not! Elphie, I swear it, I’m not. I wouldn’t.” 

The not again is unnecessary but implied and it hangs between them like a noose or a loose thread in a brand new sweater or something else equally terrible. Galinda slowly reaches out, stopping before making contact. Leaving it up to Elphaba to take her hand.

“Elphie, please forget it. I shouldn’t have said it.”

“Did you mean it?” Elphie whispers, not quite reaching out but not moving away either. It’s a victory in Galinda’s book. 

Galinda considers her options. Is there a right answer? Either she allows Elphaba to believe she was joking, taunting her with something so personal, hurting her all over again… no, that isn’t an option. What’s her alternative? Telling her yes, she did mean it, and yes, she very much would like to show her how to feel good, and yes, she wants to watch her fall apart but in a perfectly normal way that surely exists between friends? Is there a universe where Galinda tells Elphaba all those things, one of those things, and doesn’t scare her off forever? 

“Only if you’re comfortable,” Galinda chooses instead, rather proud of her deflectifying skills and how fast she thinks on her feet. 

“Are you comfortable?” Elphaba spins it back on her, tricky girl, but it isn’t a rejection and she hasn’t run off screaming and her face has relaxed, no longer doing that terrible mournful thing that makes Galinda so desperate to soothe her that she’d scoop out her own insides if the other girl asked, so Galinda counts it as a win. 

“Yes,” Galinda confesses and it’s the truth. 

Only with her Elphie is she so unrestrainedly honest. 

“I mean, if you’re comfortable, I could show you. As a friend.” 

Alright, she’s honest to an extent, but this is all very new and her breathing has become very shallow and she feels as if she’s stood on the precipice of something important but can’t tell what. 

“Alright,” Elphaba acquiesces, nodding as if to convince herself, “As friends.” 

“As friends,” Galinda repeats, because saying it a third time makes it true.

“Where should we…” Elphaba trails off and Galinda can’t help but smile. 

It’s so Elphie, immediately jumping to logistics, pushing past the incredible bizarreness of the situation and focusing on how it’ll work. Plus, the word we sparks something in Galinda’s chest, a giddy sort of excitement that spreads throughout the rest of her body. 

We. They’ll be doing this together. 

“My bed is bigger,” Galinda offers and before she knows it, both she and Elphaba are crossing the short distance to her much larger, much plusher, much pinker bed, settling against the headboard together. They leave as respectable of a space between them as they can.

“How do we start?” Elphaba asks, ever the pragmatist, and Galinda grins again. She’s just so Elphie. 

“First things first!” Galinda begins, holding her pointer finger in the air. Always a flair for the dramatic, she’s had. “We establish boundaries. Make sure the other knows they can always say stop.”

“Okay. Yes. Of course,” Elphaba nods, brows furrowing slightly, not so differently from how they do in class. Is one brow slightly more scrunched than the other? 

“Second!” Galinda continues, brandishing a second finger to match the first, “We have to decide where to start.”

“Anatomically?” Elphaba questions, bewildered and blushing in equal measure. 

Galinda is so close she can make it out, even in the dark. She clears her throat. 

“No, not… Well, yes—” 

Elphaba’s flush deepens.

“—sort of! I just mean,” Galinda shakes out her hands, lowering her raised fingers as she does. She soldiers on. “I mean, we talk about what you know. What you want to learn.”

“Oh. Alright.” Elphaba’s teeth worry her lip. 

Galinda’s eyes soon follow. 

“I know… the anatomy,” Elphaba repeats her earlier phrasing. “I know the functions. I just haven’t tested them. Or let myself think about it.”

Galinda can tell Elphaba is self-conscious from her fractured sentences, her darting eyes. She keeps things moving.

“That’s settled. Now, clothes: on or off?”

Galinda wishes she hadn’t kept things moving. She’s always been too active for her own good. What’s so wrong with a little bit of stillness? 

“Well, if the point is a lesson…” Elphaba suggests, taking a sudden interest in the starched fabric of her nightgown. Galinda can relate. 

“Clothes off it is,” Galinda agrees, perhaps a tad breathier than she may have liked. Their suite is on the second floor; it’s hardly her fault if the air is thinner up here.

“Is that okay?” Elphaba asks, daring at last to peer up through her lashes. Elphaba, sweet Elphie, always so considerate. Galinda squeezes her hand.

“It’s okay, Elphie. I promise. First rule, remember? I can stop at any point I want.”

Elphaba smiles. Galinda melts.

“Is there anything I’ve forgotten?” Galinda asks, forcing herself to focus on the girl in front of her. She’s sitting right beside Elphie, close enough to feel her warm breaths puff against her lips, and she can almost count the freckles across her cheeks if she doesn’t mind her vision going a bit blurry. 

Elphie’s hand is so soft cradled within her own, softer than anything she’s ever felt, and that begs the question of what it would feel like somewhere else. On Galinda’s body, perhaps? Are the other parts of Elphie’s body just as soft? Would she let Galinda explore it if she asked? 

And then there’s the simmering beneath her skin, reminding her of what’s to come. What they’ve been building to. She’s focusing, she is, but not on all the right things.

“I don’t think so,” Elphaba assures, head tilting to the side in thought. “You pretty much covered all the bases.”

“Are you surprised?” Galinda scoffs, tossing her hair. She hopes to rid her head of such thoughts in the process. “I never leave a base uncovered.” 

There’s an innuendo there, sure, but can Galinda be blamed? Between the situation they’re in, the inches between them, and the undetermined fluttering in Galinda’s gut that’s swiftly making itself known, it’s a miracle something far more incriminating hasn’t snuck its way out of her mouth. 

Elphaba laughs, so Galinda laughs, and a bit of the nerves fade away.

“Here, move up a little. Scooch, scooch!” Galinda motions, encouraging Elphaba to turn more fully sideways on the bed, propping her up with no less than seven pillows and blankets and one decorative cushion Galinda typically reserves for hump days (she’s referring to Wednesdays, of course—get your mind out of the gutter). 

“Okay, that’s enough!” Elphaba protests, but she’s giggling and leaning into the pile and wow, Galinda is more than ready to begin. 

“Aren’t you going to make sure I’m comfortable, Elphie?” Galinda teases, fluffing her own set of pillows to prop herself up. 

Before she can blink, another pillow is placed behind her, courtesy of Elphaba. Galinda flushes at the gesture and the proximity.

“Are you comfortable?” Elphaba jokes, though there is an underlying sincerity that floods warmth through Galinda’s chest.

“Not quite,” Galinda quips but before Elphaba can fret, Galinda reaches around, tugging at the ribbon at the back of her nightgown. It’s a delicate, lacy thing, pink, to no one’s surprise, but its value comes from what it promises. 

“Are you sure?” Galinda checks in before she continues. “Remember, you can tell me to stop at any time.”

“I remember,” Elphaba nods. 

Her eyes rove over Galinda’s body, still concealed by the slip of fabric. She swallows. 

“Take it off.” 

Galinda’s heart attempts to burst through her chest wall. 

“I mean,” Elphaba clarifies, pushing her glasses up her nose, “if you want.”

“I want.” 

Then she’s pulling it off in one go, not allowing herself a moment to think. She shifts against the pillows, hyperaware of their silky coolness as they graze her back. 

“Is this okay?” Galinda whispers, bunching the dainty fabric in her fists for something to do. 

“Yes,” Elphaba inhales sharply. She clears her throat. “Yes, it’s okay.” 

The pink glow from the lamps flickers just so, washing over her body and painting it with shadows in equal measure. Elphaba’s eyes join the pair, taking in Galinda’s bare form. Goosebumps break out across Galinda’s skin. 

“Are you cold?” Elphaba whispers, eyes earnest and locked onto Galinda’s own. 

“No,” Galinda responds, voice just as soft. She smiles, a tiny, shy thing. 

Neither of them speak. Galinda’s heart hummingbirds inside her chest. Slowly, she sets the nightgown aside. 

Galinda’s fingers trail over the exposed skin of her stomach, drawing lazy figure eights and misshapen hearts across the stretch of her ribs. She drags her nails across her sternum, resting her hands right below the gentle slope of her breasts.

“I normally start like this,” Galinda tells her, forcing herself to meet Elphaba’s gaze—try to, anyway. Elphaba’s eyes are a bit indisposed at the moment. “I touch myself all over to try to warm up. It’s best if you let yourself imagine it’s someone else doing the touching.” 

Elphaba nods at this, seemingly engrossed.

“I hope you’re taking notes,” Galinda huffs, and Elphaba’s lips are halfway to quirking too, but then Galinda’s thumbs are swiping across her nipples, pulling the slightest breath from her lips, and nothing is funny. She repeats the motion a few times, once not nearly enough, before bringing her index fingers and thumbs together and pinching just slightly.

“I’m sensitive here so this is normally enough to get me ready,” Galinda confesses around a sigh. She looks up then, right into Elphie’s eyes, and what a mistake that is. Her eyes are wide, wider than she’s ever seen them, and is that a trick of the light or have they been mostly overtaken by black? 

“But I can play with them a little more,” she offers, fingernails scraping across the peaks as she speaks. “Is this-” Galinda’s voice hitches when her hand grazes the sensitive underside, body reacting as if surprised, “is this educational?”

“Y-yes,” Elphaba rasps, following the path of Galinda’s hands with reverence, and surely it isn’t just Galinda’s imagination because her eyes surely do look awfully black. 

“What-” Elphaba pauses, tongue flicking out to wet her lips, the flash of that familiar gap between her teeth prompting Galinda to pinch her nipples once more. “What comes next?” 

Oz, but this is hardly fair. Galinda may have vastly overestimated her ability to deliver a verbal tutorial through this.

“I like to tease myself over my underwear. If I have time, of course.” 

Galinda’s right hand begins the slow descent down the slope of her body, taking the time to appreciate herself like she hopes Elphaba will do after this lesson. She stops when she reaches the thin fabric covering her sex—not out of want but out of necessity. She shifts forward ever so slightly on the bed before leaning back against her wall of pillows, spreading her knees apart just enough for her hand to fit through them. 

“Oh,” she murmurs when she feels the wetness there. Elphaba will surely be able to see the dark spot, even with the dim lights. Galinda feels herself leak further at the thought. 

“What’s wrong?” Elphaba whispers.

Galinda smiles at her friend. Shakes her head.

“Nothing, Elphie,” she reassures her, spreading her legs a tad bit farther apart and resting her hand on her inner thigh. “I’m wet,” she motions between her legs, trusting that Elphaba is following her line of sight. “It means I’m turned on. That’s a good thing, Elphie.”

For a moment, Galinda wonders if she’s gone too far. A tutorial is one thing, a quick “how-to” amongst friends, but dripping through her panties and no doubt filling the air between them with the smell of arousal? Surely there’s a limit to what is considered appropriate.

“Is this still okay?” Galinda checks in, hands still resting on her breast and inner thigh, respectively. She keeps them stationary, difficult as it may be.

Elphaba nods, quickly at first and then slowing down. 

“Are you still okay?” Elphaba asks, perfect, considerate Elphie.

“Yes, Elphie,” she promises, drawing her fingers closer until they rest atop her center. There’s a sharp inhale of breath at the contact, though Galinda can’t be sure it comes from her.

“I like to rub myself lightly,” Galinda tells her, demonstrating as she does, “At first. I don’t normally stay patient for very long.”

Elphaba hums at that, an uncharacteristic, high-pitched thing. 

Galinda’s hips twitch upwards. Her middle finger strokes up and down, up and down. Wanders up over her clit, ever so lightly. Dances back down, pressing gently into herself, mindful of the fabric.

“This feels really good,” Galinda breathes. Informatively, of course. Her eyes flicker towards Elphie’s. She’s never seen them so focused. 

Time turns a bit syrupy after that. Elphie’s face glows rosy from the lights and softens around the edges. Galinda’s body fills with molten need.

“Would you,” Galinda starts, voice a bit breathier than she thought, “Would you like to see under?” Her clit twitches at the thought.

“Yes,” Elphaba breathes, nodding dazedly. “Yes, I mean… if you think that would help.”

It’ll help something, Galinda is sure, but she isn’t quite sure what anymore and her mind has gone all staticky. Her whole body has, really. Still, she perseveres, ever the resilient one, and brings both hands to the waistband, painful as it may be to stop touching herself once she’s gotten started. 

Galinda hooks her thumbs below the fabric and pulls, inhaling as the cool air hits her flushed skin and the panties slide down her legs. She has to shift to the side to slip them all the way off without touching Elphaba in the process, and oh, the thought of it is enough to make Galinda a little dizzy. 

She tosses the garment into the abyss, paying it no mind as it no doubt falls somewhere amongst her expensive belongings, still covered in her own slick. Galinda’s gaze hones in instead on the thatch of golden curls between her legs, darker from the moisture collecting there, dripping onto the comforter beneath her. She’ll have to send for it to be washed tomorrow, she imagines. 

Elphaba visibly swallows. 

“And, what… what do you do now?” 

They lock eyes. Galinda wonders what Elphaba sees when she looks at her. 

“Now, I… touch myself some more. More directly.” Galinda shifts. Opens her legs wider. Watches Elphaba watch her. “There are two ways, really. Well, more than two, I’m sure, but two that I know of.” 

She has to fight the urge to blush. Her success is debatable. 

“To make yourself feel good,” she elaborates, undoubtedly unnecessarily. “The inside and the outside.” 

Galinda’s fingers twitch, from nerves or anticipation. Likely both. She brings them back to her inner thigh. 

Elphaba shifts against the pillows. 

“They both feel really good. I normally start on the outside, like you saw before.” Galinda’s hand inches closer, moving on instinct. She controls it. 

“Okay,” Elphaba tells her, nodding. It’s as if she’s granting permission for something neither of them quite understands. Her lips move again, wordlessly. 

“I’ll start on the outside,” Galinda confirms—teaches, if you’re feeling generous. 

Her hand seems to follow her lead, moving to stroke herself with no barrier. She exhales shakily, resisting the urge to rut into her hand or whimper too loudly or, Oz forbid, let Elphie’s name slip from her lips. That last one hadn’t seemed like a possibility a few moments ago, but now, with her own heat burning against her palm and her heart wildly pounding and Elphie’s gaze on her skin, Galinda finds herself approaching the point of no return dangerously quickly.

She starts slowly, trailing through the wetness on the outer lips before bringing her hand up higher, barely skirting the sensitive nub.

“This is my clit,” Galinda sighs, perhaps unnecessarily since Elphaba did say she was familiar with the anatomy, but it’s better safe than sorry. “It’s in the same place on everyone. You can touch it however you like. I like up and down, like this.” 

Elphaba moves the slightest bit closer, glasses perched studiously on the bridge of her nose, lips parted in the subtle, unconscious way that never fails to draw Galinda’s eye. 

Galinda’s hand speeds up the slightest bit. She places her other hand back on her chest, tracing a pattern on one of her breasts similar to the one below. 

“Elphie,” Galinda starts, taking her quiet for confusion, and she’s jarred by how gravelly her voice has gone. She tries again, “Elphie, do you want to try?”

“Try?” Elphaba repeats, tearing her gaze away from Galinda’s hands to meet her eyes.

Galinda’s hips twitch at the eye contact. She slows her movements again.

“You know,” Galinda bites her lip, front teeth sinking gently into the soft flesh, “touching yourself? So you can copy what I’m doing.” 

Distantly, alarm bells are ringing, warnings of bronze urging Galinda not to cross that line. She resolutely ignores them and only a small part of herself wonders if they’re sounding in Elphaba’s ears as well, if even her Elphie, limited in experience as she may be, is deciding this is too much for friends. 

But they’re not just friends, are they? They’re best friends, attached at the everything, and Galinda is just being nice. Best friends do these things for each other, or so she’s been told. If she’s honest, Galinda doesn’t have the most experience with friends, either. Not real ones. Not friends who challenge her to be better instead of just falling at her feet; not friends who notice when her mask begins to slip and rush her back to the safety of their room, no questions asked; not friends who know her, inside and out (a bit more literally, now), and like what they see, not what they pretend to see. Not like her Elphie. 

“Oh, I’m not…” Elphaba hesitates, bringing Galinda back from her thoughts of—well, Elphie. 

Her thoughts are of Elphaba more often than they’re not. 

“I don’t know if I want you to see me. Down there,” Elphaba confesses, breaking Galinda’s oh-so-fragile heart. Elphaba studies her hands, all of a sudden quite interested in the juts of her knuckles and lines of her palms.

“Elphie,” Galinda soothes, and she’s ceased the movement of her fingers for this conversation, so it must be important. “Elphie, you don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. Of course I won’t be upset with you.”

Elphaba hazards a glance up at her then, nervous eyes peeking through lovely lashes, and Galinda swoons and saddens all at once. She offers the girl a reassuring smile.

“But Elphie, I think you’re beautiful. I’ve told you before and I’ll keep telling you until you believe me.” And probably ten times a day after that until the end of time, just because. Let it never be said that Galinda Upland does anything in small measures. 

Elphaba flushes. Her lips twitch like they want to smile but think better of it and Galinda vows to convince them not to hold back at least once before the night is over. 

“This is for you, remember?” Galinda reminds her, going so far as to motion towards the apex of her own legs, and sure that houses an implication Galinda is not sure she means to make, but that’s neither here nor there. 

Besides, if she’s honest with herself, she’s not positive she can say it isn’t true. 

“Only do what you’re comfortable with.” 

Elphaba is silent for a few extended moments and Galinda is almost positive she’s going to call the whole thing off. Which is fine, truly, she would never want Elphaba to do anything she doesn’t want to do. 

Only, Galinda is really quite turned on, perhaps more so than she ever has been in her entire life, and she’s making some life-changing realizations about who she is and who she likes, both things which probably should have been apparent far sooner, or at least when she so readily suggested this ridiculous stunt in the first place, but Galinda always has been very good at lying, especially to herself. 

In light of such events and revelations, the thought of excusing herself to finish the job in private is second to only going to sleep three feet away from Elphaba, in parallel beds, aching and unfulfilled, on Galinda’s tier list of worst outcomes imaginable. 

Elphaba, Oz bless her soul, speaks up then, unknowingly saving Galinda from a self-made pit of worry and despair.

“Maybe just through my clothes?”

Galinda’s legs nearly give out in relief, would have if she had been standing and not sitting comfortably on her bed, legs spread for her best friend’s edification, slick still sliding down her thighs.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea, Elphie.” 

Elphaba smiles after all, a sweet, proud little thing, and Galinda considers it mission accomplished. 

They’re both still for a moment, Elphaba clearly thinking of the best way to go about this, Galinda drumming her fingers against the sensitive skin of her thigh as she offers her best encouraging smile. 

Then, Elphaba shifts in place, spreading her knees ever so slightly. Her white nightgown, almost pink in the light, bunches slightly on one side, revealing more of a smooth green thigh than Galinda has ever seen.

She goes a bit dizzy.

Elphaba methodically slides up the fabric, folding it so it lays evenly against her back when she settles back against the pillows, now bare from the waist down, only her simple pair of black panties hugging her form. 

Galinda’s dizziness increases exponentially. 

“Now what?” Elphaba whispers, looking anywhere but at Galinda, who can’t look anywhere but at Elphie. 

“Remember how I started?” Galinda manages, doing her best to remain focused as she traces the newly exposed skin with her eyes, committing the exact shade and smattering of freckles and soft hairs to memory. 

This endeavor really has been one of Galinda’s better ideas, well and truly. 

“You could start there. Just light touches, if you want. To work yourself up.” 

“I don’t know if that’s necessary,” Elphaba admits, bashfulness creeping into her tone, and Galinda adores her. 

“O-oh,” Galinda responds, barely resisting the urge to seek visual confirmation, choosing instead to resume the movement of her fingers against herself. 

Elphaba’s eyes stop darting around the room, settling instead on following Galinda’s fingers. 

“Why don’t you copy what I do? Just to start? See if there’s something you like.”

“Okay,” Elphaba nods firmly, bracing herself. She cautiously brings her right hand to her thigh, testing the waters. 

Galinda is entranced. 

“Okay,” Elphaba repeats, nodding once more, before shifting her hand over the slightest bit and making contact with herself over her underwear. 

She tenses and relaxes all at once. Steels herself. Slips her hand beneath the waistband, tenting the fabric and obscuring her hand from view. Looks up and meets Galinda’s eyes. 

“Show me what to do.” 

A shaky nod is all Galinda manages through a haze of arousal so she opts for a physical response. She looks down at her own body, watching as she slides her hand through her folds.

“Start by touching yourself all over. It’s good to become familiar with yourself, figure out what feels good and what doesn’t. Besides, it’ll spread the wetness around. That’s-” she clears her throat, “that helps.” 

Galinda dips her finger lower to swipe up more of her slick before dragging it back up, circling her clit but not yet touching it. Her eyes lock onto Elphaba’s hand beneath the fabric, watching for every miniscule movement as the girl mirrors Galinda’s own actions. Does it feel the same for Elphaba, she wonders? Is she as wet as Galinda is? How would her flesh feel beneath Galinda’s hands?

Galinda inhales sharply. Moves her fingers higher. Brings two of them together and swipes over her clit. She watches Elphaba do the same and they share a gasp.

“This is… good,” Elphaba offers, left hand fisting in the sheets beside her. Normally, Galinda might say something about being mindful of her nails, not wanting any harm to befall her treasured bedspread. Now, Galinda is more focused on those same nails and how they might feel inside her.

“Good,” Galinda breathes, whether in acknowledgment or praise she isn’t sure. 

If Galinda were alone, she wouldn’t waste any more time. She knows what works for herself, usually a combination of fast and hard, and she isn’t in the business of messing with perfection. 

Now, though, with Elphaba only inches away, a flush to her skin and so much desire in her face, Galinda finds herself incentivized to experiment. Not for her own sake, but for Elphaba’s. What will her Elphie like most, Galinda wonders? 

Whatever she does to herself, Elphaba will mirror. It’s not her hands doing the touching, but in this way, Galinda is able to bring her pleasure. She feels a rush at the thought.

When Galinda rubs her clit side to side, Elphaba’s breath hitches. When she skates her fingers along the edges, just barely grazing the sensitive nub, Elphaba hips jerk, chasing the contact. When she draws circles over herself, lightly at first but growing increasingly generous with the pressure, Elphaba goes completely silent for barely a clock-tick before letting out the slightest of whines, higher pitched than any sound Galinda has heard her make before. 

Galinda’s hips jump at that and she lets out a noise of her own, lower and softer than Elphaba’s own but no less raw. She decides this is what she will stick with, then, despite it not being her preferred method of getting herself there. 

At this point, Galinda is certain she could reach that point with no help at all other than Elphaba’s closeness and her puffs of breath and the way her eyes flicker rather widely, unable to choose between landing on Galinda's face or chest or glistening cunt. As it is, she’s not about to test the theory, certain she would die if she stopped rutting into the hand moving frantically between her legs. 

“Elphie,” Galinda says, partly to get her attention and partly because she knows her name would have slipped out eventually, probably in the form of a moan, and she’s trying to get ahead of things. 

Elphie’s eyes snap up at that, irises almost completely eclipsed by black, and there’s a glint in them that Galinda recognizes but can’t quite place, hazy as her mind is. 

“When I get to this point, I usually like to-” Galinda lets out a strangled sigh, squirming in place. She tries not to think too heavily about her usage of the word usually, hoping Elphaba won’t think her improper or some sort of sex fiend. Galinda really doesn’t need Elphie second guessing every early night or shower gone long. How humilifying, really. 

“I hope this isn’t too much?” Galinda cuts herself off, asking for reassurance around a groan, thighs shaking from pleasure and holding back in equal measure. 

“It’s not,” Elphaba rushes to say, and if that isn’t enough, the look of awe on her face as she takes in Galinda should be. “It’s… good.”

“I like to use my fingers. Inside,” Galinda confesses, swiping over her clit even harder at the thought. “Is that… something you’d like?”

Heat blooms visibly across Elphaba’s face, dark green splotches spreading prettily along her cheekbones and burning hot in the tips of her ears. 

“I think so,” Elphaba whispers, bringing her hand closer to her face for examination. 

Her fingers are slick, shining in the dim light, and Galinda’s mouth fills with saliva faster than she thought possible. Elphaba frowns.

“I don’t think I can, though. Not with my nails.”

Even through her lust-induced fog, Galinda has to admit Elphaba’s words have merit. Elphaba deserves the utmost care and gentleness, her body worthy of worship and devotion, especially after a lifetime of cruelty. It wouldn’t do for her first time touching herself to result in self-impalement.  

“That’s alright,” Galinda reassures, tracing Elphie’s slick-covered fingers with her eyes in place of her tongue. 

“But, maybe… you could show me? Just so I’ll know. For next time.”

It’s safe to say Galinda’s body is receptive to the idea. It’s receptive to pretty much everything Elphaba, has been for a long time, longer than she wants to admit, probably since she saw her for the first time from across the courtyard. 

What a fool Galinda had been, allowing her petty jealousy and fear of public perception to get in the way of connecting with her Elphie earlier. They could have been friends from the start, maybe even had this conversation about self-love and the importance of keeping two nails at an appropriate length much sooner. 

There’s no point dwelling on that now, not while Galinda is aching with arousal, bare in front of the most beautiful girl in all of Oz, and said girl is staring at Galinda’s center like it contains the secrets of the universe. 

“I can show you,” Galinda exhales, feeling herself clench around nothing but the promise of what’s to come. “Let me show you.”

An unnecessary addition, Galinda’s sure, given the look Elphaba is giving her and the reason all this began in the first place, but she finds she’s having more and more trouble containing herself. She would be more concerned, probably should be given her recent realizations and proclivity to shower Elphaba with praise, but an unmistakable tingling has started building in her gut, the space between her legs, the base of her spine, and everything else ceases to matter. 

Not including Elphaba, of course, who will always matter more than anything else. 

Elphaba, surely able to detect her constant presence in Galinda’s mind, just nods at her friend, eyes glued to Galinda’s fingers as they work ever faster, Elphaba’s own fingers mimicking their motion under her panties. 

“I like to use two fingers,” Galinda tells her, looking down the curve of her body as she presses her ring and middle fingers against her opening. “It’s usually best to start with one finger, but,” she pushes them in around a sigh, body tensing and relaxing in quick succession as her body practically sucks in the welcome intrusion, “I don’t need to do that. I’m ready.”

“You’re so wet,” Elphaba gapes, something akin to wonder written across her face, and if Galinda weren’t already so far gone, she’s sure she would find it in herself to be embarrassed. Right now, it’s all she can do not to immediately come undone with the simultaneous sensation and Elphaba’s words.

“Yes,” Galinda inhales, nodding rapidly. A strand of hair falls in front of her face and she’s sure the rest of it isn’t faring much better if the sheen of sweat on her skin and pounding heart are any indicator. 

Galinda moves her fingers in and out, relatively slowly at first, trying her best to adjust. She isn’t confident she’ll be successful. 

“It can feel really good, just doing this,” she pants, picking up the pace. Her other hand flutters against her rapidly rising and falling chest, contemplating finding the curve of her breast once again. She’s not sure if she’ll be able to withstand the dual stimulation. 

“There’s also this, though. If you prefer.” Galinda keeps up her strokes but curls her fingers instead, angling her wrist so her fingers hit against that special spot inside of her every time. 

“Curl your fingers, like you’re… like you’re calling over a friend. It feels really good, so good…” She’s unraveling now, tongue a bit looser than it should be, but it’s all she can do to stave off the inevitable and keep this going long enough for Elphaba’s benefit. 

Perhaps she shouldn’t do this next thing, then, but it’s what she would do if she were in private, and she wants to give Elphaba the most comprehensive lesson possible. Besides, Galinda doesn’t know if she’ll ever get this opportunity again, the chance to touch herself so brazenly in front of Elphie, and she needs to make it count. 

“It usually isn’t enough, you know, by itself,” she pauses, catching her breath, “so it’s good to touch your c-clit at the same time.” 

It hardly makes sense, being shy about phrasing after everything else she’s done, everything they’ve done, together. Galinda shoves her other hand down her body, no longer bearing the self-restraint to tease. 

Her fingers work over herself with little finesse, control slipping with every stroke and every soft puff of Elphaba’s breath. Elphaba truly is beautiful, otherworldly in a way Galinda can’t begin to describe, and the need to tell her exactly how beautiful swells within her.

Elphaba gasps, then, a welcome and well-timed interruption, and her eyebrows furrow in concentration. 

“Is this… it feels…” she breaks off again, tensing against the pillows. “Galinda, I think…”

“You’re close,” Galinda finishes for her, increasing the speed of her own hands. “It’s alright. D-don’t be afraid. You’re almost there.”

Elphaba nods frantically, front teeth digging into the plushness of her bottom lip, and Galinda can’t take her eyes off of her. 

“Elphie, I’m-” Galinda can’t finish the sentence lest voicing her nearness throws her over the edge. 

The world feels very small all of a sudden, narrowed down to this little corner of their room. Here, nestled atop Galinda’s ridiculously plush bed, bathing in the rosy glow of various lamps, baring themselves to one another in ways they’ve never done before, Galinda thinks she’s found her own version of magic. 

Elphaba is sitting so close, and her little puffs of air have rapidly intensified, and Galinda swears she can smell her, even through the barrier of her panties, and it’s too much, too much. How can she be expected to carry on in such conditions? She’s going to do something altogether reckless like come without warning or moan Elphaba’s name or close the distance and kiss her, it’s too much-

She’s never been someone with trouble containing herself; she’s always been in control, always been able to hide whatever she’s feeling, although that ability has proven itself unreliable around Elphaba, around Elphie.

Elphie, Elphie, her Elphie, Oz, Galinda can’t keep it in, she’s going to come, going to say her name, going to blurt it out, Elphie-

“Galinda!” Elphaba moans, voice tearing from her throat of its own volition, and time seems to slow down after that. 

Elphaba moaning her name, head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, back arching off the pillows as she trembles, hand still moving between her legs… it doesn’t take much more than that.

“Elphie!” Galinda cries, gasping as the first wave crests over her, starting at her center and spreading outwards with dizzying intensity. Galinda fights with all her might to keep her eyes open and trained on Elphaba’s face, still pinched with pleasure, instead of giving into the overwhelming urge to squeeze them shut, throw her head back, and moan. 

When the feelings finally die down and Galinda is twitching through the aftershocks, Elphaba finally opens her eyes. If she hadn’t just come down from what might have been the most intense climax of her life, Galinda is sure she would’ve instantly been thrown right off the edge again from the look in Elphaba’s eyes.

There is a sea of emotions there. Euphoria, sure, the remaining flickers of it still making themselves at home. There’s awe, likely due to the heady realization that her body is capable of such sensations, and of course a healthy dose of vulnerability Galinda is sure is mirrored in her own eyes. 

“How was that?” Galinda murmurs, sliding her fingers out of herself with an audible squelch and letting her hands fall to her side.

“I…” Elphaba starts, trailing off. She can’t seem to stop staring at Galinda. She clears her throat. “It was… good. I mean. It felt…” 

She stops, suddenly remembering herself. She slides her hand out of her panties, staring at it like she’s never seen it before. In a way, Galinda supposes, she hasn’t. Her fingers are completely coated. A physical ache ripples through Galinda’s chest from holding back the urge to take them in her mouth. 

“Good,” Galinda offers, surreptitiously wiping her own hands on the bedspread. It’s beyond salvaging at this point anyway, she’s sure. “I’m… I’m glad.”

“Good,” Elphaba echoes, pointedly not watching Galinda’s hands. That is to say, she’s watching them like she’s dying of thirst and they’re the only water for miles. 

Galinda has a choice to make, that she knows. She can brush this off to the best of her ability, cling to the story that this is just something friends do for one another, and return to Fiyero and the comfort of her phony life come morning. 

If she’d been in this position before Shiz, there is no doubt as to what she would have done. The Galinda of old was not one prone to taking chances. She’s different now, though. Shiz has changed her. Elphaba has changed her. Galinda can’t imagine a reality where she’s able to move on from this, leave it all behind her, and return to a facsimile of normal. 

She doesn’t want to try. She won’t even consider it. 

“Elphie?” Galinda cautions, eyeing the dwindling space between them like something to overcome, not to cower from. 

“Yes?” Elphaba responds, peering back at her through the most lovely of eyes, and really, Galinda never stood a chance.

“Would you want to do this again sometime? As more than friends?”

Galinda holds her breath. Maybe if she holds it long enough, she’ll faint into her pillows and won’t have to spend another moment in this terrible uncertainty. 

Elphaba melts in front of her. Galinda has never seen her smile so wide.

“Oh, thank Oz.” 

* 

*

*

“Elphie, you never told me your secret!” 

“Oz, Galinda, can’t it wait until after you teach me how to use my mouth?”

“Oh, yeah!”