Work Text:
As Jo sat alone on a bench several rows from the front, they weren't sure how to feel. Their long fingers tapped against the dark fabric of their suit pants. Silently, they thanked whatever God was up there that they no longer had contact with their mother. Otherwise the tux would have been a scratchy pink dress that made Jo want to claw their own skin off.
At the front of the church stood Frankie and Phoenix. The summer after her senior year of high school, Frankie had shaved her hair. At the time it had caused MJ to have a cow, but years later she still happily wore it. In contrast, Phoenix grew his hair out and always had it in a man bun that people (Jo) liked to tease him about.
Jo wouldn't say that they were jealous, in fact, they were the opposite. Frankie was about to spend the rest of her life with a man who she loved and who loved her and Jo couldn't be happier for her.
After the New York incident, it took Frankie showing up at Jo's house with unending apologies and the promise of a mature conversation for them to even consider forgiveness. It still took weeks for the pair to have a conversation that didn't include the words "I'm sorry" or "I trusted you." Even later they slowly grew back to being friends.
That's all they were though, friends. Both of them agreed in the first real conversation that a relationship between them would not work. That didn't stop Jo from feeling a little prickle of affection, a stab of protection, and a dash of pride at how far the woman standing at the altar had come.
Jo felt genuine happiness as they rocked in their seat and clapped when Phoenix and Frankie were pronounced husband and wife.
They still loved Frankie, but not like they loved her when they were 17. Not like when they snuck into empty classrooms during school to make out or when they would drive an hour away for dates so they didn't get caught by their parents.
Jo loved her like a friend. Frankie was their escape from the real world and the one person they could be themself with.