Work Text:
“But really, who orders food at a bar?”
“I do, shut up.” Only it came out a bit muffled, because she currently had a mouth full of french fries. Eating was soothing, so sue her.
Christa made a concerned face, looking down at Sasha where she rested her chin on the bar table, chewing morosely.
Ymir sighed. “I really don’t see what the big deal is. So you guys had sex, big freaking deal.” She mostly ignored Christa’s noise of protest. “Did he actually say anything?”
Sasha groaned. “No, but that’s the worst part! He always says what he’s thinking, cuz he can’t help it cuz he’s got a big mouth, but when I woke up he’d left already, and now it’s all screwy and he’s ignored like three texts and sending more than that definitely qualifies as clingy and why am I even here I just wanna go home.”
‘Here’ was a bar about four blocks from campus that held Wednesday night karaoke that they went to sometimes. But Sasha wasn’t about to get up on stage. Not when the last however many times she could remember coming on Wednesday she hadn’t done a single song by herself, but had always had Connie up there with her. Their singing wasn’t terrible but when a few beers (or shots, vodka shots went great with karaoke) were added to the mix they howled like alley cats and cracked up the entire time.
Sasha sighed miserably again, reaching up to grab her beer and attempting to drink it without picking her face up off the table, with minimal success. She finally pushed herself up, slouching back in her chair and taking a morose swig from her bottle.
“Well, was it any good, at least?”
“Ymir, you can’t actually ask that!”
“Why the hell not? It’s a valid question! If it was shitty sex, then she’s probably better off!”
Sasha just groaned again, covering her face with one hand and sliding lower down in her chair.
“Sasha, I’m sure it’ll turn out okay…”
Sasha responded by shoving more fries into her mouth, still covering her face.
“You know, instead of moping around like a loser, you could track him down and talk to him face to face. Camp out on his porch, make Jean let you in to their house, I dunno, something. Just, I dunno, tell him how you really feel?”
“You’re one to talk,” Sasha hissed, if only to see Ymir’s eyes go wide and panicked, darting to the blonde next to them. Christa, however, was otherwise occupied, texting someone, her brow furrowed slightly in concentration.
Shut up, Ymir mouthed through clenched teeth. Sasha responded again by grabbing a handful of fries and eating them, pouting at the floor.
It was just—a mess. Rock-climbing buddies turned best friends that did everything except live together, and they’d been at the gym at one in the morning and they always free climbed when it was after hours but for some reason decided to belay for each other just shits and giggles, using all the correct terminology and verbal confirmation even as they barely managed to hold back laughter. And Sasha had reached the top and ordered to be let down, and Connie had said alright, just let go, and she did and he’d let her fall, making her shriek with delight as her stomach dropped, grasping at the rope as she descended way too quickly to really be safe, as evidenced when she landed on Connie and they were a tangle of laughing, groaning limbs for a moment.
It only took a look from the other for both to start laughing all over again once they’d separated, bracing themselves on each other, and another look before they were kissing, somehow.
They hadn’t had sex then, but got each other off and put away the gear and left, running across campus to the suite Sasha shared with Ymir and Christa and laughing the whole way. Then they had sex, Sasha finding a miraculously unexpired condom in her dresser and both of them laughing until they were gasping for an entirely different reason.
When she’d woken up the next morning he was gone and didn’t reply to her first, second, or third texts, after which she gave up and decided to drown her sorrows with food.
And now she was here, two days later, because Christa had insisted they go to karaoke night, just the three of them, because they were roommates and they deserved a roommate hangout night because they deserved it and Ymir’s face had threatened bodily harm if Sasha were to refuse.
Of course, Ymir now looked like she wanted to leave just as badly as Sasha did, but neither of them could say no to Christa, the whole reason they were all three living together for their junior year in the first place. Hell, no one could say no to Christa, period.
She sighed again.
She should probably accept it, she thought dejectedly. No more hanging out til three in the morning in one another’s rooms til they just pass out on the bed, no more all-you-can-eat buffet nights at the restaurant down on 6th street where they nearly got kicked out that one time for disturbing other customers, no more rock climbing in the middle of the night using their key cards to get in the gym that they managed to get special permission to get access to whenever they wanted. No one else laughed at her stupid jokes like Connie did, and no one else made stupid jokes for her to laugh at, either.
“Can we please leave?” she finally said, feeling more than a bit miserable.
Christa nodded, distracted and still texting. “Let’s just—stay for another song or two, okay? Then we can leave, I promise.”
Ymir huffed, looking at Christa suspiciously.
The next song was a pair singing Barbie Girl, and Sasha groaned, face planting on the table, because she had totally sung Barbie Girl with Connie like three weeks ago.
“Please can we leave?”
But Christa looked oddly determined. “I said one more song! After the next one.”
Ymir scowled. “Come on, Christa, let’s just—” but Sasha missed the significant look the petite blonde gave the taller girl.
Barbie Girl finally ended, and Sasha was about to try her luck at complaining one more time when the next song began to play. With a half-way interested noise, she looked up, because this was definitely The Cars. Then she promptly sat up, eyes going wide at the stage because she knew that leather jacket and she knew that ass.
An ass that was shaking to each side with each guitar riff of the opening to ‘Just What I Needed.’
When the lyrics started up, Connie turned around, bringing the mic to his mouth as he grinned from behind the black fake Ray-Bands Sasha had gotten him for his birthday. He danced like a singer out of an 80’s music video, getting into it with his shoulders, running a hand over his buzzcut and gyrating his hips at the line “It’s not the ribbons in your hair.”
He was into it, grinning like a loon, but after the first verse, he tugged off his sunglasses, tossing them to one side and flashing the crowd a winning smile before his eyes met hers. His expression fumbled, just a bit, and Sasha felt her stomach clench with nerves, until she recognized the look on his face – nervous, hopeful, a little panicked and pleading. He tore his gaze away and grinned again, taking a deep breath before launching into the second verse. She was suddenly sitting upright, completely oblivious to the other two girls at the table with her, who were watching both her and Connie with rapt attention.
As he sang, his eyes slid back to her, and that same look was back. Sasha felt herself smiling, careful and hopeful in response, and it was like flipping a switch, the way his expression brightened. Suddenly he was grinning at her, and Sasha’s stomach dropped, the feeling just like falling, Connie letting her down on the rope too fast, giddy and elated.
She clapped, laughing with delight when he started doing air guitar for the interlude, getting so into it that he barely made the third verse, breathless and laughing. She whooped in encouragement when he gyrated his hips again, bending his knees low to the floor, over the top and overly sexual on purpose, and laughed when she could tell he’d heard.
He could barely look away from her for the final chorus, eyes sliding back to her own like a magnet. And at the final “Yeah,” he punched his fist into the air, holding it until the music faded out to the applause of the crowd.
He shot her one last breathless grin before he disappeared off stage. Then he ran back on again to collect the sunglasses he’d tossed aside, waved at the laughter from the crowd, then was gone again.
“Wait, was that the reason you dragged us out here in the first place?” Ymir’s voice pulled Sasha back to Earth, and Christa smiled.
“It was all his idea, I just wanted to help. Besides, it was such a romantic gesture! I thought it was really sweet!”
Sasha paid no attention to the way Ymir’s expression went cautious and considering. She simply chugged her beer and stood, pushing her way through the crowd for the corner of the stage, where she finally found him, too short to see around the mass of bodies, standing and talking to Jean and Marco both, who stopped talking when they noticed her. Connie looked over his shoulder, and his eyes widened, that same nervous and hopeful look from before.
She said nothing, just swooped in and grabbed his face, kissing him hard on the mouth, ignoring the other two boys.
“Oh, that’s nice, not even a hello. We totally helped, you know!” But before Jean could complain any more, Marco was dragging him off with a cheerful “See you guys later!” over his shoulder.
Finally she broke the kiss, gasping. “That was—that was for me, right? I’m not—”
Connie nodded, just as out of breath as she was. “Fuck, yes, of course it was, god—” and that was all she needed before she kissed him again.