Title: slow it down, take a breath
Rating:
PG-13
Word Count: ~2,200
Characters: Liam/Hayden
Prompts: "could you do one where hayden acts tough b/c shes insecure and liam finds out and reassures her and maybe makes out with her?" + "Liam and Hayden being a couple and he teaches he stuff on lacrosse and them just being all cute"
Summary: She's pretty sure people in control of themselves don't growl at their sisters reminding them to clean their room.

A/N: Takes place in a Vague Optimistic Future.

slow it down, take a breath

She could tell that Liam was trying not to show how on edge he was around her yesterday, and honestly? She doesn't blame him.

The full moon is tomorrow night, and it's her first, ever, and she's dreading it. She doesn't feel as anxious as she had when it had been her chimera genes fluctuating, heightening every little emotion and turning them into bloodlust – but she does feel jittery, and she can tell her control is slipping a little more each time she thinks about it. So obviously she tries not to. It kind of pisses her off, actually, because she'd finally started getting the hang of things. After Deaton had somehow been able to extract all of the other supernatural genes in her, it had been so much easier to focus on just being a werewolf, because she had the Pack to walk her through everything. Of course it's still hard, but she's in control.

She was in control. That's not really the case right now.

She's pretty sure people in control of themselves don't growl at their sisters reminding them to clean their room. Clarke hadn't gotten mad, but that's probably because she was just in shock that Hayden snapped at her over something so small in the first place.

Their parents just sort of stared at the two of them, stunned, and it only took seconds after the growl ripped from her throat for Hayden to dissolve into regret. She'd muttered an apology and an excuse about not getting any sleep, said she was heading to the school for a last minute soccer practice and rushed out the door before waiting for a response.

The lacrosse team is finishing up their Saturday morning practice when she pulls into the parking lot near the field, and Liam turns at the sound of her car.

It's kind of pathetic, really, that all she needs is to see him and she feels calmer.

She also feels like running right to him but she resists the urge. Liam lifts his hand in a wave, but then Coach barks at him to pay attention, so he jogs over to join the rest of the team. She grabs her soccer ball out of her trunk, and everyone is starting to file into the locker room by the time she makes it across the field.

Scott grins at her and Kira waves her fingers at Hayden with the hand that isn't holding Scott's. Stiles points at her soccer ball and says, "Uh, pretty sure you're not supposed to be using your hands!"

"Shut up," she laughs, and the guy winks at her before disappearing into the locker room.

Liam sets a hand on her hip once she's close enough, pulling her in, and kisses her with her soccer ball pressed between them. It's quick, simple, but it eases her nerves.

She keeps her eyes closed after, taking a breath, and then wrinkling her nose and letting out a laugh. "You smell like sweat," she says.

He rolls his eyes, grinning. "Yeah, that tends to happen after two hours of practice." She laughs again, and he reaches up, brushing her hair behind her ear. She leans into the palm of his hand. "What're you doing here?"

"I came to see you," she says. He presses his lips together. She lets out a sigh. "Liam, I'm fine. It was nothing."

He furrows his eyebrows at her. "What happened?"

"It was just this thing with my sister. You know," she says quickly, before he can ask another question like she knows he wants to, "I came here to see you and not think about what just happened, okay?" She knows she must sound kind of bitchy just saying that with a smile on her face, but she also knows Liam won't take it that way. And he of all people would understand her wanting to avoid everything for a little while. He just stares at her for a moment but then nods, so she smiles and nudges his foot with hers. "Want to be my goalie?"

He's grinning again, shaking his head as he pulls the soccer ball from her hands. "How about I teach you a little lacrosse instead?" he asks.

She arches an eyebrow. "When have I ever wanted to play you in lacrosse?"

"Come on," he says, setting her ball on the bench and then taking her hands. "I already know how to play soccer. Now it's your turn." She purses her lips, pretending to contemplate this, until he pinches her side and she shrieks in laughter. She shoves his shoulder. "Unless you're afraid you can't handle it," he says, raising both eyebrows.

"That's not going to work on me," she retorts, even though it kind of already is. She and Liam have always gone hand-in-hand with competition.

"Hey, you can tell me if you're not up to the challenge." He reaches down, grabs his racquet off of the ground. "You're welcome to just sit on the bleachers and watch me."

He tries to let go of her hand, but his fingertips have barely left hers before she's gripping on a little tighter, and he tugs her with him towards the center of the field. "Fine," she relents. "Show me what this stupid game is all about."

"It's not stupid," he mutters, but he's smiling way too widely to be upset. She grins, shaking her head. She's not exactly sure when he became so adorable.

He stands them in front of the goal, and, glancing around, she can see a few lacrosse balls still scattered across the field from practice. (He must've offered to clean up knowing the two of them weren't going to be leaving the field right away.) She holds his racquet with both hands when he gives it to her, but then his fingers are over hers, loosening her grip. "Now I'm left-handed, so I hold it the opposite way, but I know your right is your dominant," he explains, guiding her left hand closer to the bottom of the racquet and moving her right hand towards the top. Then he lets go completely and she flexes her fingers, testing her grip. It's kind of awkward, but only because she's never held anything like this before.

"It's lighter than I thought it'd be," she points out.

"Probably because the inside is hallowed," he tells her, snatching up a lacrosse ball and dropping it into the net pocket. "A lot of people think it's just a metal rod. Now, curl your hand inward and then outward, but not too fast." She does as she's told, and he grins. "That's good."

She smirks a little. "Just because I play soccer doesn't mean I can't have good hand-eye coordination," she teases.

"I know," he laughs, shaking his head. "Does it feel alright?" he asks, gesturing at the racquet. She flexes her fingers again and nods. "Want to learn how to shoot?"

There's a glint in his eyes and a wide smile on his lips as he asks this. She grins. It's kind of totally endearing, how much he loves this sport, especially since she knows he's loved it for so long. Now she kind of feels bad about not trying it out sooner. Not that he'd even asked her if she wanted to learn before today, but still.

She nods, but still asks, "Shouldn't you start off with something a little more basic?"

"This is the basics. Passing and shooting are pretty much the same motion, and that's half the game already," he explains, which, yeah, makes a lot of sense. He curls his hand over her right hand, guiding it downward. "Your hand should end up at the center of the racquet when you're shooting, and then you're going to bring it back by twisting your shoulders to your right," he says. She does as he instructed, slowly, and he smiles a little wider. "Yeah, like that—but with your back a little straighter," he tells her, pressing his hand against the small of her back. She knows she's imagining that tingling sensation on her skin where his hand is pressing through the thin material of her shirt, but whatever. She likes how it feels.

He's also close enough that she can count his eyelashes, if she wanted to. She can feel his body heat brushing against her skin.

(She likes how that feels, too.)

Liam pauses, as if only now noticing their proximity. "Uh," he says, and she laughs breathily. He chuckles. "Um, yeah—you're going to twist your shoulders," he continues, breath warm against her face, "and then flick your wrist, and follow the motion straight through."

"Sounds like you're making it a lot simpler than it really is," she admits, narrowing her eyes at him slightly.

"It is simple. I mean, there're a lot of steps if you stop to think about it," he amends. "But that's why you kind of just have to do it once, let it happen on its own. The rest is muscle memory." She presses her lips together. It feels a little like he's trying to talk about two things at once. And he must sense her hesitation, because he says, "Just once, Hayden."

God, he needs to stop looking at her like that. She doesn't remember when his eyes got so expressive, but it makes it hard to say no to him.

"Alright," she says.

He nods, hand brushing over her hip as he steps back and out of her way, and she stares straight ahead at the goal. She flexes her fingers again and takes a breath, and then she's moving forward, twisting her shoulders back and snapping her wrist, the racquet curving in her hands as her arms follow the swing. The ball flings forward, falling somewhere more than halfway between her and the goal. She huffs and scrunches her nose – a habit she's picked up from missing goals in soccer – but then Liam jogs over to her, and the smile on his face is so bright that she feels her irritation dissolve almost instantly. It's strange to think of how, just a few weeks ago, his every expression would be the thing that irritated her.

Now she always looks forward to seeing it, seeing him, and sometimes she even needs it to ease her anxiety.

"That was good!" he tells her, sounding sincere. She chuckles and shakes her head. "No, seriously, Hayden – for your first try, and without that much of a running start, you got it pretty far. A little more force behind that throw and it would've gone in."

"Okay," she laughs. "I get it. I wasn't terrible." He grins and shakes his head. "Now if only controlling my temper came that naturally."

"Hayden," he says.

"No, I know. I'm sorry." She lifts a hand off, rubbing it over her face. "You actually have a diagnosed disorder and I'm – I'm just being dramatic. Just forget it."

"That's not what I meant." His hands settle over her hips and she closes her eyes. "Hayden, you've been doing so well. But it's the full moon. It's messing with all of us."

She exhales. "You guys are handling it a lot better, though. I know it's because you've got experience, and I'll just have to build that up for myself, but… I snapped at my sister this morning, because she told me to clean my room. You should've seen the way she and my parents just stared at me—like – like I was a freak or something. I've never yelled at them like that before." She feels her heart thumping, her grip tightening on his racquet. "I remember how it felt to be out of control when I was a chimera. I can't go through that again."

"Hey, hey," he says softly, soothingly, and his thumbs smoothing over her hipbones. "We're not going to let that happen."

Her lower lip quivers. She hates feeling so pathetic. "I'm scared, Liam."

"I was, too. I was terrified." He offers her a small smile, tilting his head so that she'll meet his eyes. "And what helped me through it was having Scott and the Pack. Trust me, it's a lot harder going through it alone, but you won't have to with us here, alright? So let yourself be scared. It is scary. But we've got you. I've got you."

She swallows, hard, and nods a little, feeling her grip loosen on the shaft of his racquet ever so slightly. "Thank you," she breathes.

He brings his hand up, curving it against her cheek, and her eyelids flutter closed when he presses his lips against hers. It's gentle at first, and quick, but then his lips pause for a moment and she lets go of his racquet, barely noticing it fall to the ground between them as she grasps onto the material of his shirt and he kisses her harder. His hand squeezes over her hip, skimming over the top of her yoga pants, and she slides her hands up and drapes her arms around his neck, bringing him close. He nips at her lip and she laughs.

It's a little funny how kissing him can make her heart beat a little faster, but ease all of her nerves away. It makes her feel giddy, and excitement, but also calm.

She feels in control. And in this moment, that's all she really needs.