There was just something about Camila Cabello's brunette hair, punk clothes, and general don't-give-a-fuck attitude that Lauren Jauregui found appealing. It also didn't hurt that Camila didn't belittle her for every little thing she said and did like most of their peers did, nor did she attempt to steal her spotlight. Camila even seemed to actually like talking to her too, and despite her outward appearance hinting that she was just a stoner punk kid, she was actually very smart and maintained one of the highest GPAs at their school, despite taking full advantage of her teachers' leniency and rarely staying for classes.
Lauren was of the firm insistence that Camila was a terrible influence on her. Her father's agreed, and so did Camila. Unlike everyone else though, Camila was rather proud of the way she could get Lauren to misbehave, even if it was something as minor as playing hooky on nice spring afternoons.
Of course, if they were only skipping school it wouldn't be such a big deal. Instead of spending all day at Lauren's house just watching trashy daytime television and making out, they had gone out to the train yard and Camila was working on her art. She had made a few new stencils and Lauren enjoyed watching Camila paint even if she constantly worried about getting caught.
In Camila's mind that was half the fun.
She sprayed a few final details on the piece she was working on and took a step back to make sure she hadn't missed anything. Satisfied, she jumped down off the crates she had stacked together and threw her empty spray paint cans away from her into the mess of the train yard. She made her way over to where Lauren had settled in to watch, well away from the paint fumes, and stood beside her. "So, what do you think?" Camila grinned up at the newly finished piece that took up an entire car. She had chosen the yellow car specifically so that she would only need red and black paint. The heart she had painted between the two figures was dripping perfectly.
Lauren loved romantic shit like that. Sure, Camila could have bought flowers, but that was boring. Entire works of art dedicated to them is what girls really liked.
"Camila?"
The shorter girl looked up into a pair of impossibly dark green eyes; the pupils dilated to an extreme, and felt the air catch in her chest. "What is it, Babe?"
Lauren's voice was husky when she said "Take me home."
It would usually take about half an hour to make it from the train yard to Lauren's house, but Camila made it in half that time, even with Lauren's hand in her lap distracting her. As soon as they were out of the car their lips were attached and hands were tangled in clothes. Lauren pushed Camila against her front door and continued to kiss her even as she searched through her purse for her house keys and then fought with the lock.
The door opened and they fell backwards into the hall, landing in an ungraceful pile on the hardwood. Camila pulled herself and then Lauren up and slammed the front door. The glass pane in the top of the door rattled unhappily, but the two girls were already trying to make it up the stairs while also keeping their mouths together.
They didn't bother shutting the door and just fell haphazardly on to Lauren's bed, their hands already franticly groping to find more skin.
"When do your parents get home?" Camila asked as she tore Lauren's shirt over her head and tossed it across the room. Her hands found Lauren's breasts over her bra and she teased the already hard nipples through the satin.
"S-seven," Lauren groaned even as she arched her back into the expert touch. Her hips rose as Camila's fell, and the hard bulge between her girlfriend's legs drew an indecent sound out of her mouth. Camila's already hard cock pulsed painfully at the sound. The only problem with tight pants was the pressure they put on her junk when she was horny.
