Work Text:
Chloe sees the looks.
She sees the subtle touches.
She sees everything that Rae doesn’t, but it never stops her.
Because Rae is of a decidedly … larger size, which is undesirable, in this age. Chloe understands only half of that statement is true, because she has seen numerous paintings from celebrated history where women with rolls and curves and bulges are worshipped; every inch of stretched skin intricately pasted across canvas, their bodies made out to be temples.
But boys don’t like Rae.
They like Chloe.
And she uses that to her full advantage.
So when her focus shifts from her former PE teacher to her quiet, music-obsessed-to-an-annoying-degree mate, Chloe is convinced that she’ll snare him too (because she’s the one doing the snaring, not them – Chloe claims). No amount of longing glances from Rae side was ever going to hinder that. She had won the match before it even started.
So she wears out all her pushup bras in the first week she decided this, displaying her C cups proudly. Of course she knows to sit just a teensy bit closer to the object of her fantasies (which are strangely not that sexual in nature, but rather domestic: she’s the wife and he her significant other, her safety net), and bats her eyelashes more than usual. A plunging v-neck completes her attire, and she notices his gaze drop every once a while, and Chloe is this close.
But then, Rae enters the pub.
She can see the exact moment where Finn’s eyes shift from her enticing neck to the door, where she is standing, and Chloe’s heart drops. The way his face lights up, like he’d just seen the Stone Lilies live or whatever grunge-y shit he listens to, is sickening.
He looks like an eager puppy, and Chloe is disconcerted. The sight before her chips away at the image she has of him: cool, calm, Finn Nelson – a blank slate with a pretty face.
She stares at Rae, rather openly, as she makes her way to their table in her usual 'don't-give-two-shits' swagger, an unimpressed look on her face. And Chloe finds herself repeating ‘boys don’t like Rae, boys don’t like Rae’ in her head as the bane of her existence approaches their table and a jumping knee clashes with hers in time to the beat of the music.
Finn nudges her shoulder and Chloe would count it as a success, if only it wasn’t because he was obviously attempting to create space for Rae. And as soon as it comes, it leaves as well. Her naked shoulder feels cold where the fabric of his shirt had brushed up against her. She self-consciously pulls her halter down.
Chop's the first one to greet her, and the rest of the gang meekly follow. Rae's blank face slowly unravels, a dam breaks, and suddenly she's smiling brightly at them in all her 5ft 9in glory. She looks at them, gratefully, but Chloe doesn't miss the softening of her gaze when it lands on Finn. From the corner of her eye, she spies Finn returning her tender glance and she's so confused.
What new developments had happened between the two? Granted, he'd shown that he had taken a liking to her when he'd gone out his way to have Rae sit with him, but Chloe thought that was a fluke. Before, she just assumed the new feelings came from Rae's side.
Chop goes off to order their pints, but not without his usual quip to Rae. Archie joins in, while Finn glares at him, and then suddenly it takes another fifteen minutes for the drinks to arrive. Chloe huffs, stealing a glance at Rae and Chop, boisterously laughing. She resents Rae sometimes – the lads were always willing to miss a pint just to talk to her.
When Chop finally leaves their table, Chloe lets out a relieved sigh and peers over Finn's back at Rae. "So, Rae," she starts, flinching at the eager tone of her voice, "You not up for a snakebite today?"
Rae had only ordered a glass of water. It strikes Chloe as odd; if they kept a tally on who drank what, Rae would easily win as the gang's alcoholic. Chloe delights in the subtle blush creeping on Rae's neck, amused at her embarrassment, but she doesn't seem to be the only one. Finn seems to have taken notice too, gazing at her jumping pulse.
She keeps the urge to snap her fingers in front of his face under control.
Rae finally seems to register Chloe's question, and shrugs in her usual careless way, but Chloe detects the nervous looks she sends around the room. "Not feelin' it, Chloe."
"Bollocks," she shoots back, ignoring Finn's annoyed glance. "Normally, you'd be drunk by now." Lie. Rae had the alcohol tolerance of a sailor. She could stand in 6inch heels (not even after five glasses, hypothetically speaking of course.
Amusement glints in Rae's eyes. She waggles her finger, grinning crookedly. "Now, now, that would be rather you, wouldn't it?" Her tone is playful, but Chloe can't help but notice the scathing lilt in her voice.
Chloe shakes her head disbelievingly. It's almost admirable how effortlessly Rae could turn the tables on her.
Finn chuckles softly, almost silently, next to Chloe and glances up to Rae hopefully. Chloe wants to give him a withering look, but when she turns to face him, she clocks the crestfallen look on his face and where his eyes are.
Rae is engrossed in a conversation with Archie, her face animated and resolutely angled away from Finn's. She hadn't even noticed him, Archie hogged all her attention, and Chloe has a sudden surge of sympathy.
Finn doesn't seem too unhappy; he busies himself with rolling a ciggie, and doesn't look up henceforth. Not even when the drinks arrive and Rae quips about Chop's tardiness.
Chloe laughs out of instinct – it's Rae, after all – without really hearing her words. She reckons it's funny, but all she's got eyes for is the way Finn still smiles, even when his gaze is firmly fixed on the tobacco.