The first time it happens, they’re fifteen and best friends. Elsa’s already done it before, and Anna wants to know what it feels like. She’s her foster-sister, so if not her, who?

And, never one for subtlety, she just comes right out and says it.

“D'you wanna… maybe… sleep with me?”

They’re sitting in her room, playing some dumb video game, and Elsa loses two lives because she’s looking at Anna, mouth slack and eyes wide open. She shifts a little, and Anna’s pretty sure it’s not entirely embarrassment.

Whatever words she tries to get out stay lodged in her throat, and Anna feels the need to fill the awkward half-silence. Anything to stop it

“I know you’ve done it,” she says (and Elsa doesn’t like that fact, by the way her face pales reddens), “and, I dunno, I just wanna try it. It doesn’t have to mean anything.” She gives a shrug, as though she hasn’t just put her dignity (and maybe, perhaps, a piece of her heart) on the line.

Elsa finally manages to stammer out a response with a, “A-Anna?” Because, okay, she’s not usually this blunt, or this… homo. Elsa’s straight, totally, always has been. She lost her virginity to a boy, so it’s not like it’s gonna translate well to a lesbian experience. But, well… Anna’s… read things. Girls are better, maybe. Softer. They look nice, certainly. But also…

“I always read that your first time should be with a friend,” she says, as though that’s an explanation. “Someone you can’t screw up your friendship with, see?”

Slowly, the colour fades from Elsa’s cheeks. She puffs out a breath and Anna notices how her hands still clutch the controller, knuckles pale.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” she repeats.

It doesn’t have to, but when Elsa finally nods her head, Anna can’t help the little skip her heart gives.

It ends up being different to how she expected. Elsa was similar to her own fingers, but more clumsy. Her nails, short as they are, hurt a little, but that’s okay because it’s their first time and they’re actually kissing, kind of. Neither really know what to do, so Elsa ends up pushing in before she’s ready, tearing something that makes her cry. It doesn’t last very long anyway. She pushes in and out as slow as she can, Anna’s own lubrication making it easier. Making it… good. It doesn’t take long for her to come, Elsa’s breasts pressed against her own budding ones. She even gets to return the favour, and the sound of Elsa’s voice, muffled against her shoulder, makes everything worth it.

Anna cleans herself in her own room as she wonders if that was how it was supposed to be. It didn’t take long, but there’s always time, right? She walks back into Elsa’s room, wearing a white camisole that does little to improve her small bust, and three-quarter-length pants; Elsa barely looks over as Anna sits next to her, picking up her controller, abandoned from earlier.

They don’t talk, and she wonders if maybe she did ruin their friendship.