Chapter Text
Gigi was going to scream.
Crystal, her friend, her best friend, was sitting over there, talking about something… God, she doesn’t even know what she’s talking about. She hasn’t known what she’d been saying since Crystal took off her button-up and just sat in a tank top, and it only got worse when she pulled her hair in a bun at the top of her head.
“—and so she told me that I—”
Her collarbones.
“But that’s when they got engaged! On his birthday—”
A glimpse of her stupid tattoo. Her stupid tattoos, the one on her chest and on her arm and on her shoulder. A new one on her stomach just barely visible through the thin white shirt she’s currently torturing her with. All of them on display.
She needs a drink. She pulls herself up off the bed again and grabs a water bottle from the mini-fridge, taking a swig before putting it back down. Her eyes don’t leave Crystal more than they have to—she doesn’t think they can.
And Crystal’s still talking, of course. “...looked at me like I was the weird one. Horrible.”
Gigi coughs, then nods, remembering she’s supposed to be participating in the conversation. “Horrible,” she echoes, ripping her eyes away from the way her tank top clings to Crystal’s chest just in time for Crystal to look over at her. She has a goofy little smile that just makes it harder to focus. “Are you… um. Gonna put the hoodie on?”
Crystal starts, as if just remembering that she didn’t have a shirt on. She pulls the hoodie over her head, her bun coming a bit loose with the force of it, but Crystal doesn’t seem to notice. It was a little tight, maybe it’s because it’s hers or maybe because it’s something that she’s never seen Crystal in before but she’s breathless at the sight of her.
“Oh, god.” It slips out of her mouth without even a moment of thought. She doesn’t think she could’ve controlled it even if she tried—Crystal, with her big brown eyes and her arms and her lips tugging into a smile, sitting right there in her old hoodie from high school.
And Crystal’s smile is growing mischievous as she watches her. “Am I hot in your pretty pink hoodie?” It’s lilting, that mix of confident and hesitant that only Crystal can pull off like she does.
“Crystal.” It’s ripped from her chest, coming out in a groan. Her heart feels like it’s stopped, but the weird fluttery feeling makes her think that maybe it’s just going too fast. “What are you doing?”
And that’s when she knows it’s over for her. “What do you think I’m doing?” Crystal asks innocently, cocking her head just so and smiling at her with a small smile that speaks to more. She’s never seen this look on Crystal before. It might kill her.
Perfectly flirtatious. Perfectly coy. God, Gigi doesn’t know whether to grab Crystal and finally, finally kiss her like she’s always wanted to or if she wants to take a running leap for her hotel window and see if she can land in that horrible alley that serves as her “view of the city”
“I think you’re trying to kill me.” Too honest, but she couldn’t hold it back. It’s like Crystal’s smile and her blush and the little glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes is all she needs to completely remove any semblance of filter Gigi tries to cling to.
And Crystal only makes it worse when she bats her eyelashes and grins wider, a laugh in her voice as she says, “Is it working?”
Is it working. Gigi feels like she’s on fire and Crystal’s smiling and asking if it’s working. She can’t help the laugh that escapes, breathy and small, small like the step she takes towards Crystal.
She takes another step, then another, not one of them sure of themselves but she needs to be closer to Crystal unless she’s reading this wrong, unless she shouldn’t—
Crystal’s hand reaches out and grabs her wrist, pulling her even closer. Her warm hand drags her into her space, one step out from standing between Crystal’s legs.
“We’ll see,” she chokes out, trying to stay in the conversation instead of drowning in the blood rushing in her ears.
And Crystal doesn’t let go. Her hand, her wrist. The first time they’ve touched like this since high school, since Crystal tugged her around to her favorite hiding spots when they were skipping class. It feels different now.
She’s shaking.
But Crystal’s shaking too.
“You’re shaking,” she breathes, because it’s all she can think of.
“Yeah,” comes the reply, and finally the smile drops into something hesitant, serious, maybe even scared. Gigi’s emotions reflected back at her on the face of her best friend and she can’t stand it, can’t leave the tension this thick, can’t stand here and shake and feel Crystal shake—
So she kisses her. She kisses her like she’s making up for lost time, and maybe she is, and Crystal only takes the time to gasp before she’s kissing back, pushing up and pulling her in closer.
It’s intoxicating. She can hardly think, her mind too busy repeating Crystal, Crystal, Crystal. Her warmth, the way they move together, the way Crystal pulls her in despite the weird way she’s bending to kiss her but she doesn’t care if she gets sore because she’s kissing Crystal.
Crystal’s the first to pull back and Gigi chases her, just a bit, stealing one more kiss before leaning back and looking at her.
Crystal’s still shaking, breathing heavily, but there’s a smile quirking in the corner of her lips.
“You have… you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” she can’t help but say, breathless, and she fights the impulse to do it again, to tangle her hand in her hair and find a better position than leaning down like this, but she doesn’t move. She just watches Crystal’s eyelashes flutter and her chest move with every breath and the little laugh that she replies with.
“I think I have some idea,” she answers after a moment, and… oh.
She really does get it.
Their heads knock together when Gigi pushes forwards again, and she does let herself tangle her hands in Crystal’s hair this time because she just needs to be closer to her. She wants to be surrounded by nothing but Crystal, and Crystal must feel the same because her hand drops from her wrist to come around her waist and pulls her down on the bed.
They could have been doing this for years.
She could’ve had this when she was moving, could’ve planned her time off around Crystal. She lets herself dream of flying Crystal around to wherever she has shoots, sneaking away for dates in Paris and LA and New York.
Crystal nips at her bottom lip and the thoughts fly away, letting her think of nothing else.
She can smell her. Her deodorant or detergent or perfume or something, a hint of sweetness and something a little musky that makes her brain want to shut off. Crystal’s hands on her hips, warm and steady and shaking less than before.
She can’t get enough of her. And she thinks it’s mutual—when they finally pull apart for real and she lays down, Crystal’s quick to follow, her hand shooting out to intertwine their fingers.
Crystal’s smiling. It’s a new one and she tries to drink it in, commit it to memory and burn it into her mind so she can see it every time she closes her eyes.
“What do you want?” she whispers, scared to shatter the moment.
It takes Crystal a moment to answer. “I want to take you on a date.”
Gigi squeezes her hand, rolling further on her side to make sure Crystal was fully in her sight. “Name a time, name a day. I’m all yours.”
Crystal props herself up with her offhand, a laugh dancing at her lips as she gazes down at her. “Moving fast, Ms. Goode.”
She pushes her, and the tension is officially gone. This is Crystal, her old friend, the easiest person to talk to in the world. This is Cryssie, the same person who tried to braid dandelions in her hair when they were six, somehow turning both of their heads into rat’s nests as her clumsy hands tried to comb through short hair.
“I think we’re moving pretty slow, actually. How many years has it been?”
“Too many.” Crystal grins. “You still have my old art club hoodie?”
“What? I— I mean,” she splutters, suddenly scared that she’s crossed a line. Crystal gives her a second before laughing, and she melts back, the pang of fear leaving as quick as it came. “Yeah, and I’m not giving it up.”
“I’m not asking for it back, you’ve had it for longer than I have by now. It’s just cute. Like you have a crush on me or something.” She’s got a shit-eating grin on her face and it’s so achingly familiar that she can’t help the snort that comes out.
“I keep kissing you, of course I have a crush on you.”
Crystal grows still, just for a second, as if she didn’t expect it when all Gigi’s been trying to do all day is show her how much she likes her. How much she’s missed her. As if she forgot that Gigi’s been the one who couldn’t hold herself back from kissing her. As if it’s news.
“I’m going to go crazy if I can’t take you on a date.”
Gigi squeezes her hand, for Crystal, for herself. “Don’t leave tonight and it can start now.”
It’s enough to make Crystal laugh. “My parents would kill me if I didn’t do it right. I’m coming back here tomorrow with flowers and we’re getting breakfast. And I’ll be in something better than a hoodie.”
“I like seeing you in my clothes,” she admits offhandedly, her mind busy racing through plans on what to wear, what she’s brought that Crystal might like to see her in.
“I can tell,” Crystal teases, and Gigi’s planning gets set aside long enough to stick her tongue out at her. Crystal lets go of her hand and stretches. “But it looks like I have some plans to make, so I should probably go.”
She doesn’t want her to go. Even though she’s already overthinking what she’s gonna wear tomorrow, mentally sorting through makeup to figure out how to look pretty for someone who’s seen her all pimply and gangly in middle school, she finally got her best friend back and doesn’t want her to leave her side.
“Noooo,” she complains, then sighs. “I’ll walk you down at least?”
Crystal nods so she pulls herself up, making sure that she has everything she needs. She grabs her coat and her shoes from the closet, not scared to show the contents now that Crystal knows about her secret comfort hoodie. She helps Crystal into her coat, then puts on a coat of her own even though she’s only going down to the lobby.
They cement their plans as they walk down. Crystal will come to the lobby at 10:30, because when she’d suggested she’d get there at 9 Gigi shot it down—a night owl like Crystal shouldn’t be giving up her sleep to try and impress her, not when Gigi was usually the person who woke her up on the weekends growing up.
And they’ll go to their favorite diner, the one they were regulars at when they were younger. Crystal insists that the waitress still remembers her and will be delighted to see them together, but Gigi hardly listens to it—she can’t when Crystal’s blushing so prettily, or when she flashes her a smile that reminds her too much of when they were kids.
“And you’ll kiss me?” Gigi asks as they step into the elevator, and it’s said like a joke. But it’s not. Her heart is beating at the thought of it, despite them kissing earlier, because she can’t believe she can kiss Crystal. She’ll be kissing Crystal again.
Crystal nods. “If you’ll let me,” she says, and something in it makes her reach out and grab her hand, holding it tight.
“If I could I would steal you and hide you in my pocket and take you everywhere with me.” A callback to an old joke from years and years ago but she would, but she’s already dreading having to leave because it means leaving Crystal.
“I’d put you on my keychain so you’d never leave my side. And I’d show you off to everyone.”
“That part wasn’t there before,” Gigi points out, and she can’t stop the smile that’s crept onto her face.
Crystal shrugs. “Should’ve been,” she says as she steps through the doors, a burst of cold air making her shudder. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Gigi nods, then follows her out, not willing to let go of her hand just yet. “10:30. If you’re late I’ll text your parents to go wake you up.”
Crystal laughs, throwing her head back, then pulls her in for a hug. “I really missed you, Geege,” she mutters into her shoulder, and Gigi nods against her neck.
“Yeah. You can’t get rid of me this time.”
“As if I’d want to,” Crystal says quietly, and then she’s pulling back. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” It’s not a question this time, but Gigi nods anyway.
Her eyes follow Crystal’s retreating form as she walks down the street. Even when she turns around and laughs at her for watching, even though it’s cold, she watches her go until Crystal rounds the corner and then she’s alone again.
Crystal changes so much for her in just a few hours. The walk back up to her room feels quiet, her room feels lonely. It’s cold, and the lighting which brought out Crystal’s freckles and the light strands of her hair now feels exposing.
She can’t stop thinking of her.
The art club hoodie calls to her from the closet as she puts away her coat, so she pulls it over her head, looking at herself in the mirror. It’s worn, she can admit, but there’s always been something calming about looking down at her arms and seeing flecks of paint from different pieces she remembered from back then. The green from the backdrop she painted for the musical Junior year, the one that Gigi was there for because her English teacher let her skip class to help. Purple from the painting that hung on the wall of her parents’ house, last time she checked. Orange from the little paintings of Tic Tac she’d do to warm up.
When she sits on the bed, still upright enough to see herself in the mirror, she can’t help but blush. She looks like she’s hers. METHYD spelled across the back in big letters, like it was a sports jersey and not a club that only ever had 25 people at its biggest. The hoodie claims her, and instead of distant fantasies, it’s so much more real.
And she can smell Crystal on the sheets. For a second she wonders if she can give this hoodie back for just long enough to have it smell like her again before she remembers that right now, Crystal’s walking home in one of her hoodies. One of her hoodies that, if she’s lucky, will smell like Crystal when she gets it back.
It feels like she’s 14 again. Pining after her with a ferocity that she thought was just her being a kid.
It feels like she’s 20, about to get the call that changed her life, sitting on Crystal’s dorm bed and wishing she could pull Crystal down onto it with her.
But maybe it really has always been Crystal. Crystal’s the only one who’s made her feel like this, so it shouldn’t be a wonder that getting to kiss her—she kissed her, she kissed her—makes the familiar feeling come back in waves.
They’re going on a date. Tomorrow.
She falls against the bed, holding what used to be Crystal’s hoodie against her. She doesn’t know what to wear, she’s somehow both more and less nervous to see her than she was today, but…
Crystal likes her. She likes Crystal. They’re going on a date, and they’re going to kiss again (if Gigi has anything to say about it). And maybe she can make Crystal stare at her like she couldn’t stop staring at her, if she’s lucky.
She just needs to wait for tomorrow.