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“Hey, have you really not moved since I left?” Jess’s voice rings through the apartment as the keys rattle in the lock before dropping into the tin they keep by the door. Their cat, Ronald (Jess’s choice), leaps off of the couch to go circle around Jess’s legs and sniff the groceries tucked under her arm in a paper bag.
“I got up to pee like twice,” Lupe shrugs, stretching out her back because it has in fact been a while since she moved from the couch but in her defense, she’s in the aftermath of fighting off a cold and her body is recovering. Plus she had work off today which means she’s not moving unless the building is on fire. “Don’t judge me.”
“I wasn’t judging.”
Lupe scoffs, pushing off of the couch to help Jess put away the groceries. “Sounded like judging.”
They’ve lived together for almost two years now—all their friends refer to them as the resident old married couple and they both laugh at the idea (they’re divorced if anything). This routine is something Lupe is incredibly used to. Lupe rarely gets to see Jess during the day since her bar shifts will usually go until about two in the morning and she’ll sleep well into the afternoon, but she likes her days off when they get to run errands or just exist together. Not that she would ever let Jess know such a thing.
Ronald hops onto the counter as Jess stands with her face in the fridge, re-organizing their leftovers and ingredients for dinner tonight. Which reminds Lupe, “What am I cooking for you tonight?”
Jess grins, face peeking out from behind the door with a devilish look before pulling out a bag of ravioli. Lupe groans, “You know I hate that store bought shit.”
“I’m not going to make you prep handmade ravioli when you’ve been sick, that would be evil. But I’m having a craving and I’m going to use you being home tonight to satiate it,” Jess laughs, closing the fridge door before moving onto the stuff that goes in the pantry. She brushes past Lupe, her front just barely touching Lupe’s back. She sucks in a breath out of habit, looking over at Jess who is notably unbothered. Lupe just sighs quietly to herself as she gets out the pot to make stupid store bought ravioli for Jess because she’ll always do anything Jess asks.
Jess notices her beginning to prep and claps excitedly, reaching over and grabbing Lupe by the chin before pressing a sloppy kiss to her cheek. Lupe can’t help but laugh, shoving her off playfully as she fills the pot with water and turns the heat on. “You’re gross, get off of me.”
“I’m your best friend, you can’t say that to me,” Jess teases, poking her fingers into Lupe’s side as she walks past again. “Want me to make your sauce?”
“Only if you actually put the seasoning I ask you to,” Lupe grabs a slotted spoon and points aggressively at Jess with it—who of course, just laughs. Lupe rolls her eyes, reaching into the fridge to grab this godforsaken ravioli for Jess while she grabs the ingredients for the sauce. “Traditional red sound good?”
Jess nods. “Perfect.”
And so they cook together—in sync the way Lupe has never been with anyone else in her life. Lupe is still sniffling a little bit and she can feel Jess’s eyes on her every single time they do, but it’s okay. Sometimes Lupe wonders what it would be like if they knew how to talk about how much they really cared for each other. If they could ever have more stan stolen glances across kitchens and shortness of breath every time they brush against one another.
There’s a storm that night—Lupe can’t sleep. She can never sleep in the rain. She isn’t sure if it’s because she grew up in Texas where rain was few and far in between—she grew up with burning summers and blisters in the sun and horses on the side of the road, usually with riders rounding up their cattle for the night, late sunsets and early mornings. Thunderstorms are a stranger—an acquaintance at best. Jess, who grew up more north than Lupe had ever been, sleeps through them like a baby.
Lupe sits on the couch, the news playing on mute but she’s barely paying attention. All she can do is wrap her arms around her knees and watch the rain patter against the window. It’s not slowing down which means she probably won’t sleep until her body forces her to. It’s fine—she needs to get back on her night shift schedule anyway.
“What’re you doing?” The light in the living room flicks on as Jess stands in the doorway, arms crossed. She looks almost ghostly in the dim light of their corner floor lamp—white tank top almost matching her crossed arms, only identifiable by the faded dark ink trailing down her arms. “It’s late.”
“I have work tomorrow, figured I’d stay up,” Lupe lies. It’s a half-lie and Jess will see right through it, but she still tries to maintain her dignity regardless. It’s a little silly to be pushing thirty and still scared of the rolling thunder cascading over city streets, but she can’t help it.
Jess just sighs, settling down next to her on the couch and wrapping her arms around Lupe’s shoulders. Without thinking, Lupe presses a kiss to the first bit of arm she can reach—right on the head of the snake Jess has inked there. Jess breathes out a quiet sort of chuckle as her head rests against Lupe’s pressing a kiss to the skin of her temple, right where her dark curls sprawl from her scalp. Lupe leans into her as Jess pulls them into a laying down position—surely a way to trick Lupe into sleeping (it’ll work).
“Jess,” Lupe starts to say, not even knowing where she’s going with it. She can feel Jess hum against her, prompting her to continue only she’s at a loss. “I don’t know. I forgot what I was going to say.”
Jess chuckles. “That’s all right.”
It’s the second time Lupe lied that night. She knows the words that would leave her mouth if she let them. I love you. You know I love you.
They lay on the couch. And they watch the storm.
“Good to have you back!” Max exclaims the moment Lupe heads behind the bar, tying her small apron around her waist. The night is young and the bar isn’t packed yet, which Lupe is grateful for. Part of her doesn’t feel all the way there yet, but she’s been itching to get back to work (much to Jess’s dismay). “How was your little vacation?”
Lupe scoffs, “Yeah, because a chest cold is such a vacation.”
“I’d rather be sick and dying than on the clock,” Max shrugs, giving a patron a winning smile as she hands him his drink. Max has a knack for customer service in the way that Lupe doesn’t—but that’s usually why Lupe comes in later. Max butters them up and Lupe gets to cut off all the drunk idiots who forget to tip. “How’s Jess? Things are good with you two?”
The question causes Lupe to furrow her brow. “Yeah, we’re fine. Why would we not be fine?”
“I didn’t say you weren’t fine.”
“But you asked.”
Max shrugs, walking away to take another order, leaving Lupe to contemplate. Thankfully a customer waves her down before she can get too in-depth with it and the flow of work takes over. All personal thought gets pushed to the back of her mind over the next few hours with her and Max barely getting another chance to speak—even in passing.
It’s almost one in the morning by the time things start to settle down. Max stands against the back of the bar with a huff, nudging Lupe with her elbow. “I was asking if things were good because every time I’ve seen Jess lately she’s looked a little down, that’s all. Only time I’ve ever seen her sad is when she’s fighting with you.”
“We don’t fight.”
“You did that one time, over Ronald.”
Lupe groans, remembering the argument in which Lupe had gotten so fed up she threatened to drop Ronald off at the pound. “He scratched the shit out of my favorite couch.”
Max scoffs. “Please, Jess had it reupholstered and good as new within a day. But seriously, nothing new with you guys at all?”
“I mean, I don’t think so,” Lupe sighs, just feeling more frustrated than anything else. If Jess has ever been upset with Lupe, she always tells her right away because the only thing Jess hates more than being upset is bad communication. She would never leave Lupe in the dark—which means it has to be something else. “We’ve been good, really. Better than usual, I think. Me being home for a bit was a relief to her I think. She misses me when I work too much.”
“God, why don’t you two just get married already?”
This causes Lupe to do a full double take. “What?”
“You guys have been dating forever! You live together, you have a cat together, you miss each other when you’re not there. I’m surprised neither of you have had the mind to get down on one knee and call it a day,” Max rants, a wry chuckle falling past her lips. “Seriously, I think Esther and I managed to meet, start dating, and get engaged faster than you guys have.”
“Max, we’re not dating,” Lupe clears up, the notion entirely ridiculous to her. Sure, she has her feelings for Jess that she bottles up and keeps tucked between her heart and her ribcage until she inevitably dies, but she at least thought she was subtle about it. “Did someone tell you we were dating? We’re not, we’re just roommates.”
Max gives her a long stare before bursting out into a full-on fit of laughter. When she catches her breath, she sighs, “Jesus, Lu, I think you and Jess are the only two people in the goddamn universe that doesn’t know y’all are dating. Oh, that’s too good. Too good.”
Lupe gets home at three in the morning, tossing her keys into the bowl and hanging up her coat. The light in the living room is on as Ronald wraps around Lupe’s legs before peeling off to go hop on counters in the kitchen. Lupe continues on into the living room where Jess is sitting, book in her hands. Lupe squints to look at the cover—it’s Good Omens, because of course it is.
“What’re you doing up?” her question mirrors that of the one Jess asked her the previous night. Except there’s no storm tonight, just Jess in a white tank top and sweatpants that are a little short around the ankles which means she probably stole them from Lupe.
“Felt like waiting for you.” Jess doesn’t look up from her book. Her long blonde braid rests in the middle of her back, falling in with the line of her spine, not a hair out of place. “How was work?”
“It’s three in the morning, Jess, why are you up?” Lupe asks again, leaning against the doorway that leads into the living room. Jess still doesn’t look at her, but there’s a crease on her forehead that Lupe wants to run her finger across and sooth her until it goes away.
Jess puts her book down, dog-earing the page. “I told you, I felt like waiting. Is that a crime? Am I up past my bedtime, mom?”
Lupe rolls her eyes at the sarcasm, not moving from where she stands. Her feet are rooted to the ground—she thinks if she were to try to take a step, tendrils would wrap around her foot and keep her in place. “Jess, are we dating?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Max says we are.”
“Do you want to be?” Jess looks at her now, hands braced on the edge of the couch. She looks nonchalant, but Lupe can see the white of her knuckles and the blood rushing to the tips of her fingers with how tight her grip is.
Lupe doesn’t know how to respond. “Do you want to be?”
Jess bites her lip, eyes falling to the book on the coffee table they share. They share everything—even a cat. A life, a home, a love. There’s no reason they should be dancing around this still, but Lupe doesn’t know how to do anything else. “I do, yeah. I think I’ve just been trying to think of how to tell you.”
“How long?” Lupe still can’t move. Jess does, though. She stands from the couch with her shoulders back and her hands on her hips as if this is a conversation she needs to square up for.
Jess sighs, opening her mouth and closing it as if she’s trying to think of the correct response. Eventually, she sighs, fingers toying with the end of her braid. “I don’t know? Months? Years, probably. Maybe since we first met. I don’t know, Lu. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“I’m not mad,” Lupe feels the need to clarify. Her and Jess almost never fight, except that one time, but when they do, they get defensive before anything else. It’s a flaw of Lupe’s, she knows this. Jess knows it, too. But here, Lupe keeps her shields down. She reaches out instead. She takes one more step, away from where she can lean against a wall to keep herself up. She doesn’t quite step up to Jess yet, though. “I couldn’t be mad at you, not over this.”
“Jesus, Lu, you sure as hell are acting like it,” Jess huffs. “I never planned on telling you. I—I liked what we had. It was nice. I didn’t want to fuck it all up the way I am right now.”
“You’re not fucking anything up, Jess, not even close,” Lupe takes another step. “Jesus, I’ve probably been in love with you since the day we met, too, I just convinced myself you were never going to think of me like that.”
Jess scoffs, taking another step. They’re closer now, less than a foot between them. “How could I not, Lu?”
It’s so ridiculous. Both of them feeling these things for so long and never having the heart to risk it all and say it out loud. Max was right, they really have been dating this whole time they just didn’t know it. Lupe can’t help it—she reaches out and takes Jess by the wrist, tugging her a little bit closer. Close enough to get rid of the gap between them entirely.
“Jess?” Lupe asks, looking up to meet her eyes. “I’m in love with you.”
A slow smile stretches across Jess’s face as she shakes her head with disbelief. “Yeah, I got that much.”
Before she can reach, Jess grabs Lupe by the face and presses their lips together. Lupe kisses back eagerly, holding Jess by the elbows as they push against each other in the middle of the living room. It’s three in the morning and Lupe can feel her exhaustion in her bones, but she doesn’t care, she just doesn’t want this to end. She thinks she could kiss Jess for the rest of her life (she probably will).
Jess shifts one hand from her face to the small of her back, holding the two of them together as the kiss deepens. Lupe can’t help but smile into it, breaking the two of them apart if only to rest their foreheads against one another. “We’re kind of idiots, aren’t we?”
The cat twists in between their legs, squeezing through them as Jess laughs. “A little bit, but it’s okay. We got there.”
Lupe nods softly, her hands not leaving Jess’s face as she kisses her again. “Yeah, we did.”