Holidate

by anelimjolie

Summary:

“Well, if you ever need a holidate, just let me know.” He blows out the smoke in small billows, far away from Lexi but close enough to cover his beaming face for a second.

She coughs, not sure if it’s because of the smoke that barely reaches her or because of the words that hit her like a shovel on the head. “A holidate?”

“Yeah, you know,” he shrugs, his pink lips pursed. ”Someone who pretends to be your date for the holidays, so the family shuts up.”

Oh, a holidate. Of course. “Well, that sounds exactly like something I need.”

// a fake dating au – loosely based on the romcom “Holidate” (no previous knowledge needed)

Notes:

• For Sunshinebunnie.

Hey guys – this is my contribution for the Feximas Gift Exchange and this is especially dedicated to the lovely Kenny // sunshinebunnie! Hey, I’m your secret Santa :D
This was originally planned as a one shot but I got carried away, so I split it into two chapters (chapter 2 is coming soon) – a little fake-dating-holiday scenario, very loosely based on the romcom “Holidate” (no previous knowledge needed). Fez and Lexi are in their twenties; they meet for the first time on New Year’s Eve but after Fez got released from prison. Hope you all enjoy – and happy holiday/Christmas season guys <3

(also let me know how many Taylor Swift references you find because I couldn’t stop including them)

Chapter 1: This is me trying

– New Years Eve –

 

It’s almost midnight when she lets herself fall on the couch, sighing deeply. 

 

She’s so sick of being the empty bill-board in her family, of having to fill it with new stories every single day – with new dates for every holiday. 

 

Because there are none. That’s the thing. She’s never bringing a date, she’s always alone – and it wouldn’t bother her that much if her family wouldn’t make such a big deal out of it. 

 

The clicking sound of a lighter is followed by a deep voice, and only at the sound of her best friend’s name does she realize she is spoken to. “Yo, you Rue’s friend right?” 

She looks at the guy and can’t quite shift her focus away anymore: there’s something about his crystal blue eyes fluttering at her, the scar that is gracing his head like a curve, the red beard adorning his jawline and the olive green knit sweater highlighting his muscular arms that makes her brain freeze, and she thinks she knows him from somewhere. “Yeah, since like pre-school… sorry, ion know why I said that.” 

 

God Lexi, this is exactly why you don’t get any dates. 

 

“Nah, you good,” he smiles more to himself, lighting up the freckles on his cheeks, as he takes a drag on his joint. “You met where you met. Yo, what was your name again?” 

“Lexi.”

“Lexi,” he repeats her name like a promise he’s eager to keep, and it feels a bit like magic in the glimmering New Year’s night, as he blows out the smoke in small circles, carefully not to envelop her in it. “I like that. That’s a nice name.” 

 

Her cheeks are flushing, coloring her skin in a warm maroon. “Thanks.” 

 

“I’m Fezco, but you can call me Fez.” Fezco . She’s repeating his name like a chant in her head, quickly realizing how much she likes the tender sound of it – like a soft feather brushing against her skin. “And why are you looking so sad? It’s New Year’s.” 

“Yeah, another year is over and I still have to justify myself in front of my stupid family why I’m still single… god, sorry. I don’t know why I said that .” It’s a vicious circle that starts in her head every time she meets someone new and gets a bit too comfortable. It only takes an inch of attention for her to spill whatever demons are torturing her mind and it’s really no wonder that she’s scaring people off. 

 

But he only takes the joint back to his lips – a sight which keeps her captivated, and frowns. “Wait, you tellin me, a pretty girl like you is still single? Shit, what are the chances…” 

 

“Oh, please,” she giggles and doesn’t miss the smile she’s painting on his face as well, “Is this working normally?” 

 

“Nah, I’m not normally tryin to make it work.” 

 

The words burn her head, and she’s embarrassed that she can’t blame it on alcohol. After all, she regained her fate of being the designated driver for all her friends and their dates. “Well, yeah anyway, that’s why this all sucks.” 

 

“Yeah, I get it. Just came out of prison and I ain’t know how to do this.” 

 

“Do what? Socialize? Yeah, beat me.” Her blazing mind swallows the words that try to force themselves out – but somehow, she is stronger to fight them, because they're not important now.

 

He swings his arm on the back rest, closing their distance a little and looks at her as if she had just said something completely insane. “Shit, Lex. You’re fucking fearless.”

 

She bends forward, biting her lip at the prickling sensation her new nickname leaves on her skin. “Why’s that?” 

 

“I tell you I came out of prison and you don’t even fuckin care.” And their gazes lock, tension jumping between them, before it eases in light laughter, coloring the room around them in a lavender haze. 

 

“It’s not that I don’t care…,” she looks away, sucking in a rush of confidence. “I just don’t want to be rude.” 

 

“You can ask.” 

 

Her eyes dart back to him, looking for the right key to open the door. “Yeah?” 

 

“Yeah,” he almost whispers, a dark shadow travels over his face for a quick second in time, before it’s all gone, before it’s colorful again. 

 

And when she speaks, the words burn the air between them and she can feel it more clearly than anything else in the pit of her stomach, in the stabbing sensation of her chest: She can talk to him about anything . “Why were you in prison?” 

 

“Was a drug dealer for a while. Shit went bad, there was a shooting…,” the memory is flaming inside his eyes, and as if careful not to get another wound, he flicks it away, extinguishes the thought with a heavy inhale, “and yeah. Did my time for a while, until last week.” 

 

“Wow, last week. That’s… recent.” She’s stuttering not because of what he had just told her, but because there’s a distant door opening up, a faint memory she had stored away for about five years, after things went bad between her and her sister. 

 

Fezco. The name sounded so familiar and he knew Rue – was he the one who’s house got raided? 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

A chill runs down her spine as she puts the pieces together and she has to clench her fist to keep herself from grabbing his hand and squeezing it tight. “I’m sorry you were in prison.” 

 

Despite the sadness of it all lying heavy on his features, he cracks a weak smile. “Thanks shorty, me too.” 

 

“Well, but I guess no one asked you recently if you’re dating anyone.” 

 

She’s relieved when he starts to laugh – they’re on the same page; they can joke about it. “Nah, they haven’t.” 

 

“Well, consider yourself lucky then,” she teases, reviewing the conversation she had with her mum on Christmas morning – Why are you never bringing anyone home? Don’t you trust us to meet them? Are you unhappy?

 

He takes another hit on the joint, filling the little space between them with the bitter-sweet smell of weed and his cologne. Lexi wants to absorb the feeling it causes inside of her – she doesn’t feel disgusted or annoyed by it, she feels comfortable, safe somehow. “I do. You know, besides the whole prison thing.” 

 

“Shit, yes. Sorry, Ion know why I’m so insensitive.” Well, maybe they haven’t been on the same page after all. Maybe it had all been inside her head again – just another fantasy. 

 

“Lex, chill. Was jokin.” 

 

“Okay.” 

 

Okay. Relax. Breathe. In. And out. You can do this. 

 

“Well, if you ever need a holidate, just let me know.” He blows out the smoke in small billows, far away from Lexi but close enough to cover his beaming face for a second.

 

She coughs, not sure if it’s because of the smoke that barely reaches her or because of the words that hit her like a shovel on the head. “A holidate?” 

 

“Yeah, you know,” he shrugs, his pink lips pursed. ”Someone who pretends to be your date for the holidays, so the family shuts up.” 

 

Oh, a holidate. Of course . “Well, that sounds exactly like something I need. How did you come up with this?” 

 

“From a movie.” 

 

“A movie?” 

 

“Yeah, like this romance shit.” 

 

The smile is forming on her lips all by itself – it’s something about the way he shrugs away whatever he says, the way he’s so confident in his manners and so cute at the same time.  “You mean rom coms?” 

 

“Yeah, they were the only thing allowed in prison.” And his grin is the most heartwarming thing she ever saw – it’s like he’s sunshine, enlightening every little spot of darkness – and she’s midnight rain, haunted by the pain, staying in the shadows. 

 

“Oh…” 

 

“I’m a big movie guy but like great movies…” he’s teasing with his smirk, and his soft lips pressed around his joint once again – his blue eyes scanning every inch of her face. 

 

His eyes are so blue. 

 

She raises an eyebrow, mirroring his teasing face. “Some rom coms are great.” 

 

“If you say so. I’m more like into Scarface and shit.” 

 

“Haven’t seen that one yet. I’m more like the Little Women , Pride and Prejudice and Stand by Me girl.” Well, she is more like the book girl, but that could be a conversation for another time – she doesn’t want to make this about her, she wants to know more about him. 

 

“ Stand by Me ?” His eyes are glowing, beaming at her as if he had won a contest. “I love that movie.” 

 

“ Really ?” Her voice is so high pitched that she wants to tweak herself, slowing down – because this might be really good, whatever was going on here. 

 

“Come on. That’s my shit,” but she doesn’t need to because he’s matching her almost with the same excitement, making her feel seen. “Always used to watch this with my grandma and… yeah, great movie.” 

 

He bites back whatever he wanted to say, turning his head and letting his gaze wander through the crowd – and another gut feeling tells her he’s the one she was thinking about. The one who had sold Rue the drugs that made her overdose during their freshman year, the one who run the local shop “Milk”, the one who was selling pretzels at the Carnival and had been looking at Lexi a little too long – she cannot believe she had forgot about him for the last five years, cannot believe she had stopped thinking about him after everything that had happened back then.

 

“I actually wrote a play inspired by this during high school,” she says, lost in thought, the memories of which flashing before her eyes: the fight with her sister, the mere disaster on stage, Rue struggling with her sobriety, her mother losing herself in alcohol again. 

 

If she’d only had a friend during that time. Even if things are better, resolved – it had branded her, as had her father's disappearance. 

 

Fez's gaze lingers on someone, darkening, and she can't quite make out who he's watching, but his ears are still pricked like a cat's - eager to listen to her while watching his prey. “Really?” 

 

“Yeah, it was a mess tho, like a whole thing.”

 

His head twitches back to her, eyes unreadable and foggy. “Shit, sorry. I have to get back to you on that one. I kinda need to leave. But can I maybe get your phone number or something?” 

 

“My phone number?” Was this really happening? She didn’t scare him away? 

 

“Yeah, you know. For the holidate thing.” 

 

“Right. Yeah, sure.” She hands him his phone, watches him typing in his number, biting his lower lip as he does so – it's captivating, almost enchanting, how his freckles glow in the darkened room, how the smell of his perfume waves over to her, how the veins on his neck twitch. 

 

“Sorry to leave so soon, got some business to do. Happy New Year, Lex.” 

 

A quick glance at her phone tells her it’s January first – a new year, a new beginning. Filled with the familiar misery, the old problems. “Happy New Year, Fez.” 

 

Standing up, he gives her one last, soft smile before he takes off his green knit sweater, throws it onto the couch, and fights his way through the crowd – before his fist slams into Nate Jacob's face, over and over, until Nate’s head and the knuckles on Fez's hand are dipped in blood, so scarlet is was maroon.

– A year later – shortly before Christmas –

 

“Damn it, I can’t find this stupid dress anywhere.” Lexi rummages around her closet, breath hitched in her throat, as she pins the phone to her ear with her shoulder.

 

“You sound stressed,” Rue states in a monotone voice. 

 

“It’s just my mom, she asked me to bring a date, especially now since Cassie is married.” During the summer, Cassie has married her long term boyfriend Ethan – one of Lexi’s few friends during high school. It had taken a while for the two to bond, especially after Lexi's failed play, but they had quickly become more than just friends and Lexi hadn't seen her sister this happy in a long time.

 

On the night of the wedding, Lexi had gone outside to refill her hip flask – since she turned up again without a date – when Cassie ran after her, hugged her and told her she had never missed her so much, like the last few years. I’m so sorry about everything, I should have never let a stupid boy stand between us. I love you, Lexi. 

 

I love you, Lexi. There was not much Lexi wanted, but being loved and accepted by her sister was one of these rare things – so she vowed to capture this moment forever, sealed in a jar so it could never escape her.

“Ah man, that sucks,” Rue’s voice brings her back to reality, hearing the distant chatter of Jules in the background. “Still no luck with the guys? Or girls?” 

 

“No… haven’t really met the one yet.” Just as if she had jinxed herself, the green knit sweater falls down from the top shelf, landing on her face and almost causing her to let go of the phone – Fez.

 

Yeah, she had thought about him a lot. Almost every day, wore his sweater a bit too much, still not wanting to wash it so that it doesn’t lose his smell, although it had taken over the scent of her perfume by now. 

 

What would’ve happened if she had just texted him? She wasn’t scared of him, she was intrigued, she was attracted to him, she was completely and utterly bewitched. Although she didn't know the real reason why he hit Nate, in her dreams it was because he knew what Nate had done to her sister, what he had done to her.

 

How many times had she woken up with his memory over him, a real fucking legacy – how the blood rushed into her cheeks, how his fists interlocked with the devil’s face, his red lips smiling at her – shit, he had left more than just one mark, scratching Lexi under her skin. 

 

Rue’s voice cut through her fantasies again, making Lexi miss her best friend. She hadn’t been able to see her a lot, since Rue and Jules moved in together and Lexi was throwing herself into writing and her job at the local magazine. “What about you just ask someone to be your date?” 

 

“Who should I ask?” She knew exactly who to ask, but she couldn’t. Not after a year of not contacting him. 

 

“How about Fez?” Her voice is teasing and sharp at the same time, and it hits Lexi like a wave – first slowly, then all at once. 

 

They’re still friends. “Fez? What?” 

 

“He told me about New Year’s. I’m pretty hurt you didn’t tell me.” She knows Rue is partly joking, but she can’t focus on that – because another thought is boring her way into her mind, staying there: He told her about me . 

 

“When did he tell you?” 

 

“Last week, when he asked what you’ve been up to. Since you haven’t texted him for almost a year .” Judgment was creeping in her voice as clearly as the blazing sun on a warm summer’s day – but yet again, her words were riding a carousel in Lexi’s head, as she pulls his sweater to her chest and sits down on her bed. 

 

He asked what I’ve been up to. “Shit, yes. I was too… busy.” Busy, scared, panicking, cowardly. 

 

“Lexi, if you don’t like him, tell him,” Rue sighs, showing a very different, more serious side to her. “But he’s a great guy. He was innocent, he didn’t do a thing.” 

 

“It’s not that, it’s…,” It’s because I mess things up, I think too much, I’m in my head for too long, I’m not having control over myself, I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser… “I couldn’t stop thinking about him and just panicked and then it was five months and it was kinda too late.” 

 

There’s silence for a while, enclosing Lexi like fog and for a moment, she gets weak: she smells his sweater, and closing her eyes, she’s back at that night, next to him, dancing in the pouring rain, all of her changing like midnight. 

 

Two words, seven letters. “Text him.” 

 

“Yeah?” 

 

“Yes. Trust me.” And if she couldn’t trust Rue – then who could she trust? 

 

So that night, when she looks up at the sky, counting the stars like his freckles in her dreams, she knows she does not want to see another shade of blue but the color in his eyes glimmering at her. She takes out her phone and does what she should have done a long time ago.

Hey Fezco. Are you still down for a holidate?

 

It doesn’t take him two minutes to answer, and she has been keeping her eyes at her phone, somehow knowing the three little dots would appear any moment. 

Lexi? thought I would never hear from u again.

 

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she takes a deep breath. That’s fair, she deserved that. 

 

I know and I’m sorry. Gonna explain everything until I bore you to death. But right
now, I’m desperate. Are you in? 

 

It’s torturing to watch the three little dots appear and vanishing, a thought manifesting in her head deeper than any other before: What are you doing? Things like this are not built to last. But then her phone vibrates and she releases a sharp breath. 

 

send me the add and time

 

And then three seconds later: 

 

  you could never bore me.

– Christmas – 

 

She’s more than just nervous - her mother’s response still ringing in her ear:  Wait really? You’re bringing someone? 

 

Was it that unbelievable? Was it that surprising? 

 

She's been asking herself that for the past twenty minutes, standing in front of her mirror, stroking over her wine red silk dress, applying her makeup. 

 

Was she that much of a hopeless case? But then, when Fezco’s car drives up her front door, when he walks out and leans against it, looking at her as if she would hang the moon and the stars for him – there’s something else traveling through her mind, unfolding in a wide grin: maybe it isn’t. Maybe he likes me too. 

 

But it’s all pretending, just for this holiday, nothing real. Nothing stable. She reminds herself of that for the whole drive, ignoring the little glances, not letting his Damn Lexi. You look fuckin amazing get into her head, because it would stay there, it would linger and she couldn’t separate those things. So she stayed cool and careless. 

 

Especially when he greets her mother like a gentleman and she winks at Lexi, pointing his finger at him and mouthing He’s hot. Yes, there are no feelings there, she’s completely numb, completely okay. 

 

Especially when Cassie and Ethan walk out of the kitchen, welcoming Fez with a big hug and instantly bond with him about whatever Ethan was cooking. The fact that her sister raises her eyes, grinning brightly, doesn’t stir something up inside her – as much as the very familiar and cozy dinner doesn’t. 

 

Fez is answering all the questions, stroking over her back, holding her hand, kissing her cheek – he does it all and it’s like walking through a rainy forest, soaking in the last days of autumn before winter, it’s like the smell of old books and bonfire – of the chimneys when you walk through the city at night, seeing all the different lives inside the illuminated houses while it’s dark around you. It’s like Christmas morning when she was little, walking down into the kitchen where her father waits with a cup of hot chocolate. 

 

It’s the best thing ever, the little magic moments in life. But she’s cool, totally unmoved. 

 

It’s not much of a suprise that her mother passes out drunk first after three hours of playing monopoly, being carried into her bed by Ethan and Cassie – leaving Fez and Lexi alone for the first time during that whole night. 

 

“You’re really good at doing this,” she teases while they clear up the table, over which bottles of beer, food and pack of cards are scattered, marking the last remains of a great and funny evening. She has to admit, it’s the best Christmas she had in a while. It’s better than getting blackout drunk and throwing up in the sink. 

 

“Your fam is fun,” he smirks, carrying some bottles into the kitchen. 

 

She follows him with plates in her hand. “That’s because of you, they’re not normally like that.” 

 

“For real?” 

 

“Yeah, I didn’t know how desperately my family needed me to date.” It’s supposed to be a joke but as soon as she says it, the reality of it burns into her skin – maybe she was the problem all along. Not only in her dating life. 

 

“Nah, they just need to stop buttin into other people’s business,” he says, putting the bottles into the beer case. “They be makin a big deal out of it.” 

 

She leans against the kitchen counter, sighing. “Yeah, that’s true.” 

 

“So, you wanna go to bed?” He asks, walking up to her and she almost grabs his shirt, pulling him closer – almost. 

 

“No.” 

 

“What about Cass and Ethan?” He smiles shyly, his eyes wandering over her dress. 

 

“They’re not coming back. Not when they have the opportunity to have our room for themselves.” She wrinkles her nose at the thought of it, knowing she would have to sleep on the couch tonight – with Fezco. 

 

“Right, told me about the shared rooms. So what you wanna do?” 

 

She grins at the sight of his nervous features, studying his suit closer for the first time during that whole evening and she has to admit, he looks absolutely handsome. “We could watch a movie. I might know a good one to watch.” 

 

——

 

Twenty Minutes later, the kitchen is cleaned and Fez and Lexi curled up on the couch, watching Stand By Me . 

 

It’s more of an awkward sitting than cuddling, just to make sure whenever someone comes in, they’re looking like a couple, as Lexi phrased it. 

 

If she wouldn’t have been in such a deep state of fooling herself, she would have admitted that she likes cuddling with him, that she wants to feel the warmth of his arms around her waist, that she needs his hands caressing her head. 

 

But she wouldn’t. Not to herself and especially not to him. 

 

“Just a heads up, I always cry at the end,” she mutters, while bowing her head towards him, seeing him smirk already. 

 

“That doesn’t surprise me,” he laughs, stroking the back of her head affectionately. “Have to admit, I cried once.” 

 

“Just once?” 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“So you’re not an emotional guy?” 

 

“Nah, I ain’t sayin that.” 

 

She props herself up, seeing him more clearly. “I knew you were the emotional type.” 

 

“Yeah?” His smile is teasing, his eyes sparkling. “Why’s that?” 

 

“No one is that serious during monopoly when one of their houses is torn down.” They’re both laughing now, but her stomach curls, praying she didn’t say the wrong thing. 

 

“Well the money was important, needed to pay the beautiful bank.” And his hand is back on her head, caressing through her hair and she closes her eyes for a second, dwelling on the sensation for a glimpse of time. 

 

“I hate monopoly. Being the bank is the less stressful job.” 

 

“There sure as hell happened some fucked up shit during monopoly.” 

 

“Just like Bobby and Tony almost killing each other. Monopoly mixed with alcohol is never a good idea,” Lexi says, grinning at the change of emotion in Fezco’s face. 

 

His hand stops, but hovers over her head. “You know The Sopranos ?” 

 

She shrugs. “I’ve watched it with Rue during freshman year, she had an obsession with terrible men on tv.” 

 

And so had Lexi – watching Mad Men , Succession and Breaking Bad all in one summer. 

 

“Shit, you know Stand by Me and The Sopranos ?” He shakes his head with a little scuff, sucking his teeth. “You’re too good to be true.” 

 

“You’re too good to be true, you saved my Christmas.” 

 

His eyes get all soft, wander over her and stop at her eyes - and it’s all the warmth of the sun and all the sweetness of honey and the beauty of the ocean combined, it’s shining in full brightness. “We should do this again some time.” 

 

“Well how about next week? It’s New Year’s.” It’s just pretense, it’s just an excuse – it’s not real. “And uhm… it would kinda be suspicious if we broke up a few days after Christmas right?” 

 

“Yeah, right,” he nods, ripping himself from his focused gaze. “You going to Maddy’s party like last year?” 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“Good. Me too then.” 

 

And they fall asleep halfway through the movie, Lexi’s head on his stomach while his arms are swung around her – and saying goodbye to him the next morning is death by a thousand cuts, and it’s hard to pretend she doesn’t really care, because that’s not what she’s supposed to pretend, and it’s confusing and exciting and for the first time in her life, she looks forward to New Year’s Eve. 

 

To a new year. 

– New Years Eve – 

 

They had texted the whole week, every single day. 

 

Do you think it’s weird that my mom keeps repeating that you’re hot? 

        A little. 

I mean she’s right but that makes me uncomfortable.
She thinks you’re my boyfriend.
She shouldn’t say these kinds of things about my boyfriend. 

     She said this about Ethan too? 

No, not to me. 

God that makes it even weirder. 

     So you think I’m hot? 

 

Not the point. 

     Nah, very much the point 

I mean yeah. You’re conventionally attractive. 

   Okay? 

You’re an attractive guy, do you think
I would just let anybody be my holidate? 

    Oh, so I’m special 

 

Haha, you wish 

 

    Actually I do. 

   I would say you’re hot too because you are
but I don’t wanna sound like an ass 

  You very pretty

 

Thank you Fez 

///

Lasagna or pizza? 

 

        What kinda question is that? Both 

 

You need to decide 

 

      Why? 

 

It’s what my mom makes for dinner before the party 

   We have a dinner date before the party? 

Yes. 

Unless you don’t want to? 

 

 

    I want to. 

    Lasagna 

 

I knew you would choose lasagna 

 

   

   Why? 

 

Idk you seem like a lasagna guy 

 

 

    That’s weird Lexi 

     But it’s also true 

 

I’m more into pizza 

 

  

  Then pizza 

 

No don’t change your mind because of me

 

    Would do anythin for you 

 

You’re good at this 

    At what? 

 

Pretending. Being a holidate 

You do that often? 

 

    

Nah, just comes naturally with u 

 

So, lasagna it is. Congrats 

    Lucky me 

 

 ///

What u doin? 

 

I’m at work 

 

   Damn I don’t know a thing bout you 

Where you workin? 

At the local magazine. East highland times 

You a journalist? 

That’s hot 

 

I’m a miserable journalist 

Not so hot 

Ion believe that 

But if you were, that’s still hot 

So what are you doing? 

I don’t know a thing about you either 

Workin at my grandmas old shop 

It’s hard getting back into society u know 

Oh, yeah. But that’s great! It’s the shop “Milk”, right? 

That’s the one 

 

I could visit you someday :) 

That would be great 

 

/// 

What time tonight? 

Seven 

 

Ok 

What you wearin? 

Like right now? 

 

No for the party 

I was thinking about wearing my black dress 

How does it look like? 

 

*sends a picture* 

Shit Lex

Yeah, wear this 

 

You like it? 

Very much 

Would like to see it on you 

*sends a picture* 

I don’t know what to do with my hair yet 

Fuck, you look amazing 

I have to say it 

You look fuckin hot 

Thank you, Fez. 

What are you wearing? 

Right now? 

 

Yeah. 

And for the party. 

*sends a picture* 

Just sweatpants 

 

M&M pants? I LOVE them

Got them from my lil brother 

They’re the best 

Idk what to wear tonight 

I loved the sweater you wore last year

Yeah me too

But I have a feeling you know better where it is than I do 

That could be yeah 

Couldn’t left it all by itself 

Thank you for saving it 

It would look great over that dress 

 

You think so? 

I know. 

 

I’m curious what you will wear 

Maybe you could make it match with my dress 

Like a bf/gf thing? 

 

Yes, exactly 

 

——

 

It’s almost pathetic how many nights she lays in her bed at night, texting him until she could barely hold her eyes open, wishing he would lie next to her, whisper all these things in her ear, kissing her neck. 

 

It’s her new fantasy before falling asleep – when she closes her eyes, she can feel him so close, his breath on her skin, his rough voice floating through the room, his strong hands stroking over her body. But it’s more than just attraction, it’s more than just the longing for his body, it’s her desperation to be with him, to see him smile, to listen to his thoughts, to fall asleep next to him. 

 

She thought in all those years of never being able to develop honest feelings, of going to miserable dates, of being alone at the end of the day, she thought the plane was going down – how did he turn it right around? Make her comfortable to fly with it again? 

 

She doesn’t know exactly, when everything feels a little too good to be true – if it is the again wholesome dinner with her family, the look on her friend’s faces when they enter the room and see her clinging on the arm of her new “boyfriend”, if it is the fact that he’s wearing black jeans and a dark blue knit sweater, making him look noble and elegant, almost fitting with her dress – he thought about it, he really thought what he could wear and made it similar to what she liked about his outfit from last year.

 

She wants to hold on to that feeling, wants to stop time for only a little while and stay in this new reality, this new version of her life. 

 

“You look very handsome,” she says at some point during the party, when they find themselves sitting on the couch again, cuddling. 

 

“Thank you,” the blood rushes into his cheeks, turning them scarlet, “was hopin you would like it.” 

 

She snuggles closer to him, seeing her sister and Ethan grinning at them from the kitchen. “Who would’ve thought the holidays are so much better with someone on your side.” 

 

He giggles. “Isn’t that the plot of most movies?” 

 

“Yeah,” she agrees, resting her head on his shoulder. “Must be even better if it’s not just a pretense.” 

 

The moment he falls quiet, she thinks she said something wrong, can feel the awkwardness brightening up between them, almost tangible in the warm air, and it makes her want to die. 

 

But before she can say something else, Maddy is standing in front of them, pulling them both from their seats. “Come on, we’re going outside.” 

 

——

 

“Seems like you and Fez are really hitting it off,” Rue whispers, as they are sitting outside at the fire, soaking in the last minutes of the old year before it drifts away in the air like sparks from the campfire. 

 

“Oh, we’re just pretending,” she looks at Fez who is talking to Maddy now, giving her a faint smile, “it’s not real.” 

 

“What do you mean?” 

 

She bends forward, lowering her voice. “It’s just a holidate.” 

 

“Like the movie?” Rue looks at her with a scrunched up face, trying very hard to suppress a laughter. 

 

“Yes!” 

 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Shaking her head, she shifts to the side, letting Jules sit down next to her. “Does he know that?” 

 

“Who knows what?” Jules asks, taking out a cigarette from her pocket. 

 

“Nothing,” Lexi cuts her off, hoping the cigarette wouldn’t turn out to be a joint. “Just my mom dating a new guy.” 

 

Her gaze meets Rue’s and she doesn’t have to put it into words – it’s hovering unspoken between them, but it’s clear and obvious. Rue knows that. 

 

She swings her arm around her girlfriend, pressing a quick kiss on Jules’ temple. “Hello beautiful.”

 

“It’s almost midnight,” Maddy proclaims, nudging Fez. “Go, kiss your girlfriend!” 

 

The look he gives her radiates everything her heart is telling her for days, screaming at her, as it throbs in her chest, pulsating against her chest – and she answers with her own melody, thinking she can hear his beating heart as vividly and loud as her own: Meet me at midnight.  

 

He scoots over to her, the pressing glances of the others resting at them and his eyes flicker, unsure what to do next – so she doesn’t really think about it. Gently placing her hand on the back of his head, she pulls him closer, waiting for the screaming and shouting, the Happy New Year’s to cut the air, and presses her lips on his, her breath hitching in her throat. 

 

It’s nothing like her fantasies, it’s better because it’s real – she may have a strong imagination but she would have never thought it would feel so good to kiss him, to be kissed by him – his hand is resting on her cheek, his lips moving in the same rhythm as Lexi’s and she’s sure they could write whole poems, whole songs about this moment together. It’s a little bit like coming home – but home is not a place, not really a feeling, it’s a person and it’s him: in full brightness, in all clarity. 

 

And she thinks she might die when he pulls away, when the soft sensation of his lips leave hers, when the scent of smoke and vanilla is only a faint memory floating through her mind, when the screaming and laughing of the others reaches her ears again, sinking in and makes the world transparent – it’s him she sees. His blue glittering eyes, his rapid breath moving his chest, the golden freckles glowing like a sparkler, his scarlet lips telling the story of wonderfully and magical night – and it’s like snow on the beach, weird but fucking beautiful. 

 

He rests his forehead against hers, releasing the breath that’s hitching in his throat. “Happy New Year, Lex.” 

 

Closing her eyes, she enframes the moment in her head, writing it down in a mental diary. “Happy New Year, Fez.” 

     – A year later – shortly before Christmas – 

“What do you mean you haven’t answered him FOR A YEAR? AGAIN?” Rue stares at her, her dark brown eyes as wide as the piece of earth opening up underneath Lexi – she hopes it would swallow her, save her from whatever misery she was about to experience. 

 

With a heavy breath, she lets herself fall down on Rue’s bed, forgetting why she came over in the first place. “I panicked again. I’m not good with dating, you know that.” 

 

“Yeah,” Rue flips next to her on the bed, nudging her shoulder, “but you’re only pretending?” 

 

“But after we kissed, ion know…” It had been on her mind the whole time – that kiss, that sweet, beautiful kiss that had enchanted her whole year. Only thing was, she screwed it up, she stared at his text for a little too long, letting her thoughts run around her head for days, until these days turned into weeks and these weeks turned into months and suddenly, it was shortly before Christmas. And she was still single. 

 

Rue shifts on the bed, pulling her closer by the shoulder. “I know these kinda things are not easy, but don’t you think you deserve to be happy?” 

 

“It’s hopeless anyways, I’m going to England for a year on January second, it wouldn’t have a future,” she sighs because suddenly all she can think about is this scenario – a future with him, kissing him again, seeing him everyday and it’s crazy because she didn’t know him, she had only spend a couple holidays with him. She couldn’t even know who he really was. 

 

Rue sneers. “Well, it’s not like you two have been in a long-distance relationship for the past two years…”  

 

“Rue,” Lexi nudges her, a feeling of gratefulness spreading in the pit of her stomach. “Why am I like this?” 

 

“You’re just scared and afraid of commitment because of your asshole dad. And the guys you dated were bullshit. But Fez is a real one, I know him.” 

 

That’s why she knew Rue was her best friend – she always gets her, she knew why Lexi was always staring directly in the sun but never in the mirror – because she was sick of seeing who she really was, tired of seeing the reflection of her father in herself. She was no better, she was so similar: always leaving, always running away. 

 

She hated that part most about herself, because even though it didn’t feel like her, it was profoundly engraved in herself, her past peeking out of her heart and shaping her mind with all her deepest fears and anxieties. 

 

Lexi lets herself fall back on the bed, closely followed by Rue. “I can’t just text him after a year. He will feel used.” 

 

Rue nods. “True. But not texting him at all would mean you lose him.” 

“I know. It’s a mess.” 

 

“Yeah, but that’s okay. We’re both a mess. Just think about it.” 

 

“Oh Rue,” Lexi turns and pulls Rue into a tight hug, “I can’t believe I’m talking about this when I’m here to listen to you. I’m sorry about Jules.” 

 

Despite her next words, Rue snuggles close to Lexi, reminding her of the times when they were both young and inseparable – before Rue's father died and Lexi's disappeared. Before the world became an illusion of drugs and fantasy and threatened to swallow Lexi forever. “It’s okay. It wasn’t meant to be.” 

 

“Don’t say that.” Lexi starts caressing Rue’s dark brown locks, feeling worse than ever before – there was a reason she didn’t make things about herself. Nothing good came out of it. “Maybe you will find your way back to each other.” 

 

Rue releases a deep breath, making Lexi’s heart ache. She has never seen her best friend so heartbroken, not after her father’s death in high school. “Yeah, maybe. Maybe not. All I know is that it hurts right now.” 

 

“I know. But it will pass, I promise.” 

 

And they stay like this, until Rue falls asleep and Lexi tucks her into bed and for a moment Lexi feels like she’s sixteen again, putting her passed out mother to bed, lying next to her until she almost falls asleep herself, worrying about her best friend, wondering where her sister is: but she doesn't have to do any of that anymore, she moved out five years ago, her mother survived so far, her sister is married and her best friend is okay – separated from her girlfriend but okay.

 

Hopefully she would stay this way. 

 

Worrying comes naturally to Lexi, like the flowers blooming in the beginning of spring and the leaves falling from the trees in autumn, plunging the world into a golden ocean – it’s something she can never really unlearn, never really cut out of her life. 

 

No matter how much she tries. 

 

So when she’s sitting on the bed next to the sleeping Rue, reading Wuthering Heights for the sixth time, her fingers tremble the second her phone vibrates, her heart drops to her stomach as soon as she sees the blur of a message on her screen, and her head explodes when she reads his words. 

Need a holidate for xmas. U in? 

Chapter 2: Meet me at midnight

Summary:

basically smut and angst and fluff <3

– Christmas –  

 

The knock on her door sends shivers down her body, and she feels that familiar pang in the pit of her stomach, the desire to run away, not open it, but she can't. She promised him, she promised Rue – and somehow she promised herself.

 

So, she opens the door, staring at his flawless, freckled face, pulling up a little smile. He’s dressed in a dark blue suit, red roses in his hands and she can’t help but blackout at the sight of him, at the reality that he’s really standing in front of her door. 

 

“Hi,” she barely presses out, looking down at her navy blue dress that’s maybe a little too tight, and glitters a bit too much, and resembles midnight more than the Christmas spirit and she wants to change and stay at home and never have answered his text in the first place. “You look–” 

 

“Thanks for doing this,” he cuts her off, reaching the roses towards her, “And thank you for keepin up with me.”

 

She accepts the wine-red roses, the spicy, clove-like but sweet smell hits her nostrils and she sucks it in, feeling very nauseous. “Thanks, Fez. I’m sorry for not texting and…” 

 

But he shows her a cold shoulder, ice-cold and freezingly sharp, and she can't blame him because she deserves it more than anything. “It’s okay. Let’s just get this over with.” 

 

____

 

He doesn’t say a lot on their way to the restaurant, trying to keep it cold and professional and for the first time, Lexi really feels like he’s pretending: pretending to like her, pretending to want to be with her. 

 

His father owes him money, so he needs to go to this Christmas dinner in order to get it. Apparently, he needs a date to show up sophisticated and trustable – since things had still been tough for him after his release from prison. 

 

Lexi wants to disappear during that really one-sided conversation in the car, she wants to be dragged away, swallowed, vanish. There was no glimmer of hope in her book of things that would justify her behavior towards him, that could make amends for how she treated him when he needed some support in his life so badly. 

 

All the way to the restaurant, while she keeps staring at the little stars being tied to the radio of his Cadillac, she whispers a secret wish into the chilly night and hopes that she finally manages to get her shit together.

 

____

 

With the first step they take into the restaurant, Lexi sees the burly man huddled at a table – hair as dark gray as smoke and a shirt as gold as the pixie dust on her bedroom door when she was a little girl. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Fezco swallow, and she's sure he's swallowing not only his fear but all his courage – his hand is lying on her waist as he leads them both to the table.

 

The walk feels longer than her former school walk, Fezco's grip is heavy and protective on her back, and the moment Paulie looks at the two of them with pointed, amber eyes, Lexi flinches internally.

 

“Ahh, look what we have here,” he doesn't even get up from his chair, just leans back, his eyes roving over Lexi. “Didn’t think you would show up with such a company.” 

 

“Let’s just get this over with,” Fezco mumbles under his breath, letting Lexi slide down onto the couch, her body stone tense. “Lexi, this my dad. Dad, this is Lexi.” 

 

A disturbing twinkle flashes in Paulie's eyes – it’s so blazing that the salt shaker on the table draws Lexi's attention. “Nice to meet you Lexi.” 

 

“Yeah, nice to meet you too.” Under the table, Lexi's hand finds its way to Fezco's and only when he squeezes it hard, she can exhale, she can face Paulie again, she can pray that this evening will end quickly.

 

It’s not exactly to Lexi’s surprise that it doesn't even last until the first course for the fake conversation to escalate and for Paulie to look a little deeper into his glass of whiskey than expected. 

 

With a snort, he takes another sip and almost smashes the glass on the table. “Tell me something, son. How did a loser like you land a girl like her?” 

 

Fez lifts his chin, his eyes stay cold and crystal clear. “The fuck, man?” 

 

“I mean, look at you,” Paulie gestures wildly with his hand as a dirty laugh escapes him. “Drug dealer, criminal, no job. What do you see in him?” 

 

“Drop the act, man. I’m here for the money you owe me.” Fezco had let go of Lexi’s hand, as soon as the first drinks arrived, which had forced her to wrap her hands around her cocktail glass so she could remain calm – but right now, she would rather slap Paulie in the face. 

 

“Oh, of course, the money,” he huffs, looking quickly to the side. “That’s all you care about, huh?” 

 

“Yeah.” It’s remarkable for Lexi how he can be so calm, so cold, so controlled – she would have started screaming and crying the second her father had said something so cruel about her. 

 

Paulie bends forward, features hard and serious – not even his filthy grin visible. “Well, you can go fuck yourself then. I’m not givin you any money.” 

 

“The fuck?” Fez’s grip around his own glass of whiskey tightens, and Lexi is waiting for it to explode, to shatter all the anger and frustration between them. “You told me you would give it to me if I show up.” 

 

“I also told your mom I loved her and so what?” He laughs as whole-heartedly and vicious as the devil himself, making Lexi’s stomach twist. “Your old man is lying, you know that.” 

 

Fez remains as calm as a faint summer breeze, but the potential to develop into a storm is right there: Neck tense, veins sticking out, teeth clenched and hand twitching. “The fuck is your problem, you owe me that money.” 

 

He doesn’t want to make a scene in a restaurant. And he doesn’t want to risk losing that money. 

 

“This money is mine for what your grandma did to me.” And the way Paulie hisses these words through the upcoming storm, makes the room go quiet – almost eerily still. 

 

“It’s my money.” 

 

Paulie finishes his whiskey in one gulp, and this time, he smashes the glass back on the table and Lexi winces. “You’re a fucking loser and will never change.” 

 

There’s no way he will give him the money. 

 

Sucking in a deep breath of the smoky and cloudy room, Lexi lets go of her drink. “Alright, that’s enough.” 

 

Fezco’s hand lands on her thigh, squeezing it. “Lexi, don’t.” 

 

“No,” she nudges his hand away, sharpening her voice. “I’m not gonna sit here any longer listening to him talking to you like that. Do you even know your son? I’m pretty sure you don’t. He’s the most amazing person I know and him being in prison or his past has nothing to say about him as a person and you would know that if you would have shown any interest in him. Let’s go, Fez.” 

 

With a shaking head, Paulie chuckles. “Ah, you’re not even wearing the pants in the relationship, huh?” 

 

“Stop talkin about her,” Fez’s tone is as sharp as a knife, ready to cut him into a thousand pieces. 

 

Lexi stands up, her knees bashing against the table, making the drinks shake – too bad Paulie's drink was already empty. “Fez. Let’s just go. We can get your money another way.” 

 

“Oh really, sugar? And how’s that?” Paulie is challenging her with a daring look, biting his tongue in a glimpse of amusement.  

 

This time, Lexi flashes right back at him with a piercing glance, knowing she got him right where she wants him – it’s only a quick pull on the trigger now. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe by consulting my lawyer parents who will sue your stupid ass? It’s your choice, really.” 

 

“C’mere.” Fez stands up, pulls her closer and out of the booth, but not without pulling out his wallet and throwing twenty dollars on the table. “Merry fucking Christmas, dad.” 

 

On the way out, Fez doesn't even let go of her, even pulling her closer, whispering with a note of pride and joy: “Your parents ain’t no lawyers, right?” 

 

“No,” Lexi mumbles, trying to hide her own smirk of pride, “but he doesn’t know that.” 

 

____

 

An hour later, the two are sitting on the roof of Fezco's store eating ice cream, the stars twinkling above them like a protective, glittering web that captures and encloses the moment tightly – if Lexi could collect special moments in a time capsule, this would be one of them, maybe even her favorite one so far.  

 

“Thanks for stickin up for me,” Fez says and nudges her shoulder – the smile she earns is worth its own little moment, worth opening up a whole new collection of life-changing moments.  

 

She licks on her pistachio ice, internally grinning about Fez’s remark of who the fuck likes pistachio ice . “I hate to say it but your father is a dick.” 

 

While eating his chocolate ice, he laughs, smudging a bit of the ice-cream on his beard. “The fuckin worst.” 

 

“I’m sorry you didn’t get your money.” Without hesitation, she leans in and brushes away the remains of his beard.

 

“I’m uhm…” he clears his throat, his cheeks flushing, “I’m gonna manage.” 

 

“You sure? I mean if you need something, I’m here.” 

 

As quickly as his cheeks had turned red, the color vanishes again and he looks away. “Are you?” 

 

The words hit her harder than Paulie’s scary glance – they make her head run hot with blood and her stomach uneasy. “Look, I know I’m weird and messy but I’m here.” 

 

He looks at her again, a small smile forming in the corner of his smile, but she can’t quite shake away the feeling that it’s not as generous as she would like to believe it is. “I appreciate it. Thanks.” 

 

“This is some really great ice-cream.” She tries to loosen the tight rope, hoping he wouldn’t let go of it completely. 

 

Fez nods. “Yeah, loved to eat it as a child. And so did Rue.” 

 

“Rue and I used to get ice-cream here.” 

 

“I know.” 

 

“You know?” 

 

“Yeah, weren’t sure you remembered. But I did.” 

 

And suddenly, it all makes sense: He remembered her, he knew her, he had at least some interest in her. “So, you recognized me? On New Year’s?” 

 

A caught grin spreads across his face as he licks his ice cream. “The minute you walked through the door.” 

 

“The minute I walked through the door?” She repeats it to make it stick, to make it real – because it couldn’t be. No one ever recognized her. 

 

“Couldn’t forget such a pretty face.” And once again, he’s so cool and so calm, so controlled, as his eyes wander over her, studying her carefully. 

 

Lost in thought, she shakes her head, feeling a renewed heaviness in the direction of her heart. “Now you’re making me feel really bad for everything.” 

 

“Don’t.” 

 

So many signs, so many signals – how could she have missed them all? How could she have been so deep in her thoughts back then? What if she had stayed off her phone more often during her high school years? What if she had gotten out more? Would she have seen him, talked to him – would he have helped her through this time? Would’ve, could’ve, should’ve. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you. I mean, I sensed I knew you from somewhere but I wasn’t completely sure.” 

 

He shrugs, finishing his ice-cream. “That’s better than recognizing me from the news.” 

 

And she swallows her next bite a bit more uneasy, trying to digest everything he had just told her. “You mean the whole prison thing?” 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“I have to admit, I had a rough summer and kinda drowned in my own misery. I only vaguely remember, I’m sorry.” There weren't many moments in her life that she would like to erase, eliminate – but this summer and everything that comes after, the whole school year: reboot.

 

“You for real?” He bows his head, looking at her more closely. “I’m mad happy you don’t because that summer was so fucked up.” 

 

“You uhm…” she doesn’t know how much she can pull, how much she can trigger – she doesn't know where they’re standing, if things are okay between them, “you wanna talk about it?” 

 

“Kinda… I mean I haven’t really talked about it.” 

 

“Ever?” 

 

“Only once with Rue, when she visited me in prison. That kid was traumatized.” His thoughts wander, falling into memory: she sees it in his eyes, sees them growing smaller and sadder.

 

And in her mind, she enters a similar memory, but different – incomplete, fragmentary. “Yeah, I remember her being down at that time… She never really told me why.” 

 

“I asked her not to tell anyone, Ion know I felt like the world was against me, you know?” 

 

“Yeah…” She’s looking up at the sky, trying to find the right answer to all her questions. 

 

“I lost everythin that night,” his words are heavy, hard to swallow. “The house, my life, my family…” 

 

Her head swings to the side, lingering on the strong, handsome man who suddenly looks like a little boy – all alone and helpless in the world. “Your family?” 

 

“They uhm… they killed my lil brother,” it kills him to form the words, he can’t even look at her. “And took my grandma away.” 

 

“Oh my – Fez. I’m so sorry.” She takes his hand, holds it tighter than ever before – she feels so lost for any words and things to say. 

 

He’s nodding again, whipping away a single tear dropping down his eye. “It’s still hard. Seven years later, still breaks my heart.”

 

“Of course, it does.” And how should this ever end? Lexi is convinced some things will make your heart irreparable – the parts will always be broken and destroyed. You can only try to fill the missing pieces. 

 

Relieved by the words flowing out of him, he lets them, lets the weight of them vanish in the darkness of the night. “Took over the store, but it feels so empty without them.” 

 

“What happened? I mean why was there a shooting anyway?” Her voice is quiet and trembling, but she knows he doesn’t mind – he’s glad to have someone to talk to. 

 

He breathes in deeply, still not looking at her, but down at the ground, where everything seems so small and dark. “I was a drug dealer, I mean we all were and there was some shit going down and we had to make business with a new dealer and she was kinda, you know.”

 

“Dangerous?” 

 

“Yeah. Got snitched on and the cops raided us. Killed Ash because he had… he had a gun. Tryin to protect me.” His voice is getting weaker, and she expects for his heart to bleed out any moment, so she presses his hand even harder. 

 

“Oh, Fez.” 

 

He pushed his fist against his mouth, his head slowly shaking and when he speaks, his voice is breaking. “I couldn’t protect him.” 

 

“Fez,” she shifts closer to him, swinging her arm around his shoulder. “I’m sure you did everything in your power to protect him. But what should you have done? There were probably too many people and you couldn’t have known.” 

 

He lets himself fall into her embrace, biting his lip. “Yeah, I could. I knew he would act like this.” 

 

“But you couldn’t know someone snitched.” 

 

His mind wanders wider, probably replays the whole thing in his head – and he can’t stop shaking it, can’t stop pressing closer to Lexi. “Nah, you know. I had it under control but then I didn’t.” 

 

“Who snitched?” And now Lexi’s mind travels with him, picking up what he had left on New Year’s. “Was it… was it Nate Jacobs?” 

 

And for the first time, he looks at her – eyes bright with astonishment and glittering from tears. “Yeah, he was one of ‘em. Did Rue tell ya?” 

 

“No, you beat him up on New Year’s when we met, remember?” She holds his gaze, reassuring him that she’s here, that she won’t leave – not again. Not tonight. 

 

He sniffs a stumbled laugh, wiping away the tears again. “Shit, yeah. I did.” 

 

“He deserved it. I always thought he was an asshole, but I didn’t know he did such an awful thing. I hope he rots in hell.” Not only for what he did to Cassie, but especially what he did to Fezco. 

 

“Damn, Lex,” he chuckles – a sound that fills the quiet night with a bit more magic. “You’re really hatin him.” 

 

She sighs deeply. “He was part of my drama with Cassie back then. But that’s not important now. He got his karma though, and this is a really relaxing thought.” 

 

He swings his arm around her waist, pouring his warmth all over her. “You can tell me anytime.” 

 

“Tonight is all about you.” Her head falls on his shoulder and she slightly bows it, looking back at the stars. 

 

He, too, raises his gaze to the starry sky – exactly at the moment when a shooting star rushes over their heads and entangles them in a common wish forever. “About us. Merry Christmas, Lexi.” 

 

“Merry Christmas, Fez.” 

 – New Year’s Eve –

 

The next week was filled with texts and calls –  it hadn't taken long for a new habit to form and for the two of them to be connected by a renewed passion: watching tv shows together on the phone. And not just any series but one that Fez was particularly fond of and that Lexi had been wanting to start for years: Little House on the Prairie – it became their evening ritual during these seven days to talk on the phone every evening until late at night, until they eventually fell asleep on the phone and surrendered completely to the dark blue night.

 

“My mom misses you.” 

 

“Your mom misses me?” 

 

“Yeah, she's always asking where my cute boyfriend is since last Christmas.” 

 

“What do you say?” 

 

“I say he’s really busy at the moment, and we’re mainly having a long-distance relationship.” 

 

“Nah, she ain’t believin that shit.” 

 

“No she really doesn’t. I think she knows I hired someone to play my boyfriend, like she senses it.” 

 

“Yeah?” 

 

“Yeah, I mean, it’s kinda weird, isn’t it? You showing up suddenly and then never again.” 

 

“Not my fault.” 

 

“No, I know. But you know, that was the point of holidates, right?” 

 

“Yeah… right.” 

 

///

“Fez, do you ever think about the future?” 

 

“Yeah, all the time.” 

 

“Really?” 

 

“Like you have a plan?” 

 

“Nah, not anymore. Never had like a plan-plan. But always wanted to live on a farm, you know?” 

 

“I don’t really see you as a farmer.” 

 

“Yeah, fuck it. Get some horses, cows, pigs, chickens, goats. Have a little family. You know that was my wish before… everything.” 

 

“Shit, yes. I’m so sorry.” 

 

“Nah, don’t be. I mean it was all dreamin and shit. I never would have been that guy.” 

 

“But, I mean, you can still be him, right? I mean now that you aren’t in the business anymore…” 

 

“I guess. Haven’t really thought a lot about the future. Always just hangin in there, you know?” 

 

“Oh, I know. But there’s so much more than that.” 

 

“You have a plan?” 

 

“Had one, yeah. Okay this might sound kind of crazy but my plan was to have like three kids at 30. L ike each one a year and a half apart. So, from 30 to 58, I could have focused on you know being a good mom and raising my kids, et cetera, et cetera. And then, drop the last one off at college at 58. Which would have given me like 32 years to focus on me and live my life and take my time with writing. But you know, life had different plans.” 

 

“I mean, you really had this shit all figured out, huh?” 

 

“Yeah, kind of crazy, right?” 

 

“I mean… they got, they got three kids in that show.” 

 

“... What’s that supposed to mean?” 

 

“Ion know, I mean if I can still get my farm, you can still get your three kids.” 

 

“... With uhm… with you?” 

 

“Shit, if you want.” 

 

“Are you high, Fez?” 

 

“Yeah. Ion know what I’m saying.” 

 

“I like what you’re saying.” 

 

“Are you high?” 

 

“Just tired.” 

 

“Go to sleep.” 

 

“Not yet. Just five more minutes… I’m not even sure if I still want to have kids.” 

 

“Why’s that?” 

 

“The world is a fucked up place. And I’m way too mentally unstable for that kind of responsibility.” 

 

“Yeah, I get that. Would always worry if I would ruin my kid’s reputation… you know with the prison thing and uhm…” 

 

“And you would always see Ash in them?” 

 

“Yeah, exactly.” 

 

“Well, there are still enough animal mouths to feed.” 

 

“That’s damn true.” 

 

///

“So, you a writer?”

 

“Trying to be. I’m only working at the local newspaper but I have some opportunities. Maybe.” 

 

“That’s mad impressin, Lexi.” 

 

“Thank you. I want to write a novel but I don’t know about what.” 

 

“Your life?” 

 

“That’s not special enough.” 

 

“Hell yeah, it is.” 

 

“Just full of trauma and bad things.” 

 

“Ain’t that the shit people wanna read?” 

 

“I guess.” 

 

“Think about it. Or you write about me. Everyone wanna read that…” 

 

“I’m not using your story for money.”

 

“Maybe you can do me justice.” 

 

“Oh… yes. Yeah, maybe I can…” 

 

///

“You’re ready for tomorrow? For New Year’s?” 

 

“Same shit every year.” 

 

“Ion really wanna go to Maddy’s party. It’s always so depressing. Even with a handsome boyfriend as a holidate.” 

 

“You think I’m handsome?” 

 

“Yeah, of course. Have you seen yourself?” 

 

“Shit, Lex. Thank you.” 

 

“Should we do something else?” 

 

“Like what?” 

 

“Watch Little House on the Prairie together?” 

 

“We doin that right now.” 

 

“But I mean like not on the phone. You could come over, if you want.” 

 

“Like… like a date?” 

 

“Holidate. Yeah.” 

 

“Okay. Sure, whatever you want, Lexi.” 

 

“Great. I’m making pizza.” 

 

“You the best.” 

 

“I know.” 

 

____

 

Twenty-four hours later, Lexi is sitting on her couch, wrapped in a woolen blanket and leaning on Fez's warm shoulder – the leftovers of pizza lie on the table in front of them while their series on the TV hums along and the room is bathed in a shimmering gold of candle and fairy lights of Lexi's own little Christmas tree – the scent of vanilla crescents and fir trees wavers in the air and Lexi feels trapped in a childhood dream in which everything is brushed with glitter and decorated with love.

 

“I like your apartment,” Fez says, grabbing a cookie from the table. “It’s quiet.” 

 

“I always wanted a cat but the landlord doesn’t allow it.” 

 

“A cat, huh?” 

 

“Yeah,” she smiles, leaning closer. “I love cats. I will definitely get a few when I have my own house.” 

 

Fez nods, swallowing the cookie. “Yeah, cat’s are the best. You know they be on farms a lot.” 

 

“Yeah?” She looks up at him, seeing that he was already watching her in amusement. “Write that down on the list then.” 

 

“Whatever my beautiful girl wants.” And there it is again – the uncertainty, the confusion: what is real and what is fake? What is he doing? What are they doing?

 

Her cheeks turning into a flashing maroon again, coloring her whole heart in the same shade, because somehow seeing him in this dim light, his freckles shining brightly like the stars and his eyes beaming with joy – she knows. 

 

Oh no, I’m falling in love. 

 

“What?” He hardly breathes out the word, his eyes staring into hers and she thinks, maybe he knows too. Maybe he’s rooting for the anti-hero too. 

 

Clearing her throat, she almost loses balance, but he’s right there and he’s real. “I uhm… I had a weird thought.” 

 

“What thought?" 

 

“That I want to kiss you.” 

 

“Yeah?” 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

And in one second she’s still sinking into the sea of his soul, while in the next she feels his hand on her cheek, how he pulls her towards him and she finally feels his lips on hers again – as soft and tender as she had memorized them.

 

Her hands jump to his chest, his shoulders, deepening the kiss with the intensity she now perceives everything: his tender lips, his fast heartbeat, the taste of pizza and cookie and smoke, the soft sweater, the strong arms – the reality, the tomorrow, the after blurs her feelings, and she kisses harder and faster, but it catches up to her, it won't let her go: not even when he buries his hands in her hair, not even when one hand slowly slides down her back and especially not when he lets out a small moan. 

 

She pulls back, watching his swollen lips, his rapid breath. “Fez, I’m… I’m moving. To England for a year.” 

 

“For real?” He’s catching his breath, hungry eyes piercing her down and all she wants is to feel him again, to be his again. 

 

“Yeah…” 

 

His tongue runs over his lip, as he shakes his head. “Shit, let’s make this count then.” 

 

Her hand meets the back of his neck, as she climbs on his lap, pulling him closer. In a matter of a heartbeat, their lips find their perfect rhythm, as if they had never done anything else. 

 

The sudden touch of his warm hand cupping her cheek tenderly lets her melt into his grip, finally being sure in the depth of her heart that she had found the feeling of being home. She would never want to let go of that ever again.  

 

A soft moan escapes both of their mouths, the soft tickle of his breath underneath her nose, and her hands carve into his neck, leaving her marks – planting another kiss on his lips, on his cheek, kissing him down to his neck. As she presses herself against him, she feels his cock tightening in his pants and the passion swipes over her, hitting her like a wave.

 

She wants him so badly. 

 

Their kisses become fleeting, quicker as he lays her down on the side of the couch and, with a rapid breath, undoes his belt. 

 

“Take your sweater off,” she mumbles, leather slipping as he pulls the belt out of his pants and throws it behind him, quickly kicking out of his pants. His cock thick and throbbing in his boxers, and she watches the outline with a burning throat, while she pulls her shirt over her head and throws it away as well, revealing a black lacy bra. But the only thing she can think of as she pulls off her sweatpants and he pulls his sweater over his head is his torso – a sea of freckles and muscles and she can't help but be charmed and count them all one by one. 

 

She wants more than just his body, she wants his soul and she wants him to show the places where others gave him scars – she wants it all, transparent and clear. 

 

Taking a deep breath, he bends down, hovering above her, letting his eyes wander over her body, over her flawless skin, and it seems as if he’s trying very hard to fight the urge to kiss every single spot. “You so fuckin beautiful, you know that?” 

 

One of her soft smiles dances around her pink lips, being ready to be consumed by him. “Shut up, Fez.” 

 

“Nah,” he leans forward, only millimeters away from her lips, his breath gently tickling her skin, his pupils traveling between her eyes and lips. “Never stop telling ya that.” 

 

The torture he puts her through is unbarable, she thinks it might destroy her, especially as she sees his chest movement increasing with every breath, as her hand drifts back to his skull, running down his neck. “Kiss me.” 

 

He doesn’t let her ask him twice, he closes their distance with a longing kiss, pushing her against the couch, as his hard on presses against her thigh, desperate to be taken care of. In between kisses, his hand wanders to her back, opening her bra with one hand, and pulling it away – she helps him, by ripping it off, clinging to his back after. 

 

He pulls away, takes in her tits, stroking them with his hands, cupping them and gently sucking on her nipples – and it’s the most intense she’s ever felt with a guy before, the most intense she ever felt before. 

 

Her trembling body is lifting her up, making it hard for her to stay. “Shit,” she moans, arching her head back and the sound that escapes her shortly after shoots the blood into his cock. She swings her legs around him again and drags him down on her body, so that his hard cock in his boxer shorts presses into her clit, only a few layers keeping them apart – his lips jump back to her neck, biting it as if he would gain every ounce of life just from being with her. 

 

And shit, so does she. 

 

She collapses under the sensation, as he begins to rock back and forth between her legs, sucking on her throat over and over again. 

  

Instinctively and driven by her need to feel him, she wriggles herself out of their intimate position and flips him against the backrest, pressing her hands on his chest, as she sits down on his lap. 

 

She’s obsessed with the way his freckles write their own little constellation, how kissing his soft skin feels like – with the smell of his perfume and the tickling of his beard against her chin.

 

If she could, she would tell him everything, she would devote herself to him, telling him that everything would be okay and that she was there. She would make sure of that later, because right now, she was paralyzed by the sensation of his lips, by the touch of his warm skin, as she strips off his boxer shorts, exposing his dick – by the strong grip of his hand on her neck. 

 

She travels her way around it, softly kissing the rest of his stomach, of his inner thighs, as he is literally squeezed into the couch, unable to move, only his breath moving his stomach up and down rapidly. Her hand strokes over his thighs, clawing into them, as she takes his dick with the other, licking his tip. 

 

“What you doin?” He can barely whisper these words, as his back relaxes against the couch and his mind wanders off. 

 

“Taking care of you.” And it’s weird because she feels it too – the spark, the electricity, the dizziness, barely registering that his hand rests on her head, as she takes his cock in her mouth, gently sucking it, licking the tip, scraping into his inner thighs. He can’t hold back a loud moan, as she’s massaging his dick with her mouth, his body shuddering underneath her. 

 

Her eyes flutter up at him, the same time, he looks down, stroking her hair. “Shit, Lex. I’m gonna cum real soon.” 

 

Instead, she leans in and licks his balls, educing a surprised sound of him and his whole pelvis jerks forward. Grinning up at him, she gets hold of Fez’s hard dick before licking his balls again, tracing the little seam in the middle with her tongue.

 

“Lex,” he huffs in a raspy voice, pulling on her hair. “Lex I’m –”

 

And that’s when she pulls away, his dick throbbing hard, his mind almost gone. She strips away her panties, climbs on his laps, adjusting herself over his dick, his tip pressing against her entrance, as she bends forward and pulls him into a deep kiss. 

 

It feels like being consumed — the sweet scent of him, the heat and strength, the weight of his hand against her small back, and the delicacy of his palm against her cheek. She gasped the moment he bites her lower lip, kissing her harder and firmer and more desperate. 

 

She could no longer imagine kissing anyone else than Fezco. 

 

“Ion have a condom,” he says, pulling back, but his eyes are praying they would find a solution any second, because he can’t hold back, he’s all hers. 

 

“I’m on the pill,” she reassures, gently sitting down on his cock and she’s surprised by the amount of control she’s taking – never having felt so free and confident and desired as with him. Life was a mystery, unfolding itself in the most magical ways and this was the moment they would meet at midnight, bagging to hold his hand, waiting for the signal to meet him after dark. 

 

Rolling her hips, she takes him all in – first slow and tender, then deeper and faster, until she was only a body without thoughts and without troubles. He grabs her ass, as she rides his cock with slight movements, and then getting faster and faster, resting her hands on his chest and pressing her thighs together. “Fez,” she whispers into the dark room, her moaning almost getting lost in the heat of the moment, in the noises of the tv behind them, in the shimmering candlelight. “Shit, you feel so good.” 

 

Increasing her movements, she throws her head back, exposing her thin neck to him, marked with his kisses, with his dark red signature.

 

“You makin me crazy, babe,” he huffs, his cock squeezing tightly, as if he would come any moment. And so would she, her eyes closed, her lips gently parted, her whimpering sounds growing louder as she rides him faster, almost screaming. “God, Fez .” 

 

And it was his deep moan that sets her off as well, as he cums inside of her, filling her with his warm cum, her orgasm hitting her in waves, sudden and violent, only slowly transient. 

 

She never felt more connected to him, or anyone really, as in this moment, when her body slumps onto him, when she presses another kiss against his neck, recovering from her orgasm as well.

 

“This was fucking amazing,” she laughs, slipping away from him, from his reach. She thinks that was it, she was healed, she was fine. At least, for this moment. 

 

Wasn’t that the way shit always ends?

– One year later: New Year’s Eve – 

 

“He’s a fucking mess. He really hoped you two would work it out,” Rue says, pressing Lexi’s pillow closer to her chest. 

 

Here’s the thing: She moved abroad and they had stayed in contact for a few months – but different time zones were a bitch when it came to talking on the phone, scheduling a time to catch up and figure out what exactly was happening between the two of them. So the calls became fewer, the messages shorter and the days and nights blurred, mingling with Lexi's work and old habits.

 

She didn’t know how to do this, how to balance her job and whatever this was between them – not when she was in England, not when she was falling in love with him. 

 

She hurries around in her room, trying to get ready without losing all her nerves. “I don’t know how to fix this. I think I can’t.” And she says this in all earnesty, in all honesty: this time, she fucked it up for real. 

 

And she couldn't even explain why she was like that, why she kept falling back into this behavior, into her trauma – like she was addicted, out of control.

 

Rue sighs, regarding Lexi with a glance full of pity and helplessness – like a sad little puppy. “I don’t know either.” 

 

“I was scared, Rue,” Lexi lets herself fall on the armchair, taking in a deep breath. “I was scared I would ruin things and now I have nevertheless.” And it was always the same pattern, always the same road she takes – never going forward, always two steps back. 

 

Everybody seems to find a way to move on, to go on with their lives – but deep down, she stays there, dust collected on her pinned-up hair, sitting and staring, not finding a perspective anywhere. 

 

The girl who lives in her delusion, in her fantasy – right where they all left her. 

 

“Maybe you should go back to therapy.” Rue makes a face, pulls up the right corner of her mouth, trying to make her laugh. 

 

But it only fills her with heavy melancholia, because she’s right – Lexi has to change something. “Yeah, maybe.” 

 

“ And maybe just talk to him. At least you haven't ghosted him for another year. I count that as progress .” 

 

Shit, she really was a mess.  

 

____

 

The moment she walks through the door, she sees him on the couch, smoking a joint in another dark red knit sweater – he presents himself to her as if standing in the spotlight, but he is invisible to everyone around them, standing in the shadow of his past, the aftermath of his life. 

 

Mentally prepared for everything – but actually, for nothing really – she walks up to him, lets herself flip on the couch and mimics in an English accent: “Hello mate. In need for a holidate?” 

 

Just as they’re first encounter, he takes another hit on his joint, blowing out the smoke in small circles – but this time his eyes aren’t sparkling with admiration. They’re blazing red, filled with anger. “You fuckin serious?” 

 

“I think I have some explaining to do.” She cuts off the accent and the irony, and weakens under his glaring gaze – yeah, she really had been an asshole. 

 

He’s struggling to keep his gaze stern, releasing a little sigh. “You fuckin lucky I like you too much to tell ya to fuck off.” 

 

She doesn’t believe in God, but she’s sure she’s been blessed – she’s the lucky one, having the opportunity to gain one more chance. “I’m sorry Fez. I screwed things up. I… I get scared when I like someone and think I ruin things because you know, I tend to ruin things with my dad and sister and all the guys I dated and it was just too good to be true and I wasn’t sure if we were pretending or if it was real and…” 

 

“You like me?” He cuts her off, his blue eyes piercing. 

 

“ Yes , Fez,” she sighs, shifting to the side, so she’s closer to him, facing him. She wonders if she will make it out alive. “I like you very much.” 

 

“Shit,” he groans, shaking his head. “I like you too. But I’m still mad.” 

 

She runs her hand over her head, through her hair as she nods vigorously. “As you should. I’m an asshole. I should have put more effort into this and there’s no explanation why I didn’t. I just want to say sorry. I told you I’m here for you and I wasn’t.” 

 

“It’s fine. I just thought it would be different after everythin,” his voice is breaking again, as he covers it up with another drag on his joint. 

 

“It was different,” she pulls out her purse from behind her, taking out a pile of letters. “I’ve written letters almost every single day. It was somehow easier than finding the perfect time to call you and more personal than just texting you. But I… I chickened out to actually send them.” 

 

He takes the letters from her with a trembling hand, his eyes widening as he sees how many they were. “You wrote them for me?” 

 

“Yeah,” she sighs. “I think you should have them. I don’t expect you to forgive me or anything. I don’t deserve it.” 

 

His gaze wanders from the letters to her, biting his lips. “You’re back? For good?” 

 

She only nods, wishing she could have interpreted whatever was going on in his mind – his eyes were showing different shades of blue: darker, than brighter, as if the sun kept hiding behind dark, thick clouds.

 

“You thought about me? Every day?” And she wants to scream at the way she says this, as if he couldn’t believe that she was crazy about him, completely and irrevocably doomed for him – he was all she ever thought about. 

 

“Yeah, I couldn’t stop thinking about you and I don’t know why I was so paralyzed to make it real, to talk to you not only in my imagination,” she swallows down the memories that follow, the old destructive behavior she tends to follow when she was younger. “But I’m gonna call my therapist on Monday, hoping she will have me back.” 

 

He had started opening the first letter, reading her words while she spoke – but as soon as he finished it, he placed them next to him on the couch, looking at her. “I know it’s not midnight yet, but can I kiss you?” 

 

“What?” The question almost doesn’t leave her – because there was no way he would say this, not after everything. 

 

There was no way there was a God who rewarded her for the hell she created on this earth. 

 

He shifts closer to her, stroking her arm. “Promise me something?” 

 

“Anything,” she whispers, completely frozen by his touch, by him. 

 

His eyes grow soft, as they stare right into her soul, daring her to open up. “At least answer me on Valentine’s Day this year.” 

 

And with a sigh, Lexi laughs out a bunch of air and relief, her forehead leaning against his. “I’m gonna answer you every day.” 

 

“Every day?” 

 

“Every single day.” 

 

He kisses her more passionately than ever before and this time, she stays when he’s lost and she’s scared, she stays when it’s hard or it’s wrong, or they’re making mistakes – because she doesn’t want him to become a stranger again. She wants to hold on to their memories and create new ones. She wants his midnights – especially when the clock strikes above their head, indicating it’s a new year, dappled with the flickers of light from the dress she wore at their first New Year’s Eve. 

Notes:

I made Nate one of the snitches cause why not?

Thanks to everyone for leaving such sweet comments – I appreciate you all sm <3 Happy Holidays!

Notes:

Thank you for reading, commenting and/or leaving kudos - your feedback means everything to me!

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