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she calls you freakin’ puddin’ pop and you just accept it and you come to like it in that twisted unfamiliar way you’ve come to like, or love, whatever, everything about jackie burkhart.
“d’you want a cupcake?” foreman offers, holding out the cake and pulling back when you reach for it, cackling along with the rest of them when he adds, “puddin’ pop” to the end.
and you roll your eyes and tell him to shut it but honestly you don’t care because you’re happy and this type of happiness is still something you’re not used to but you’re slowly coming around to realising that you’re not up for throwing it away.
jackie beams at you, hands warm on your face when she leans in to kiss you, icing sticking to her nose when she pulls away. you flick it off with your finger, sucking the sweetness off as she watches you with a smirk. you wonder what your past self would think if you went back in time and told them that one day you’ll be in love with jackie burkhart but then you remember that date you went on and that kiss and maybe past hyde wouldn’t be so surprised after all.
“hey, donna, me and steven are going up to our room for a bit, okay?” jackie says, winking when you lean up and kiss her, hands reaching around her back as she wobbles on your lap.
“gross,” donna groans, stuffing the rest of her cupcake into her mouth, chewing through her disgust. “that’s disgusting, jackie, that’s my bed.”
“why can’t you use hyde’s bed?” foreman chimes in, face scrunched into a grimace as though you haven’t had to put up with him making out with donna for all these years right there on that couch.
“you’re an idiot, eric,” is all jackie says which is a simplified version of what you were going to say so all you do is laugh and then lift jackie out of your lap so you can both stand.
“no, jackie, stay,” fez says, all pleading eyes and chocolate smeared all over his mouth. “go do your thing in hyde’s room and make it extra loud so --”
“see you later,” you say, cutting him off, saluting the room as you let jackie lead you up the stairs.
.
fuck. that summer apart has turned you into a whipped bastard but when jackie pulls off her shirt and reaches for yours, eyes dark as they rake over you, mouth red and open with moans when you kiss down her neck, you can think of worse places to be.
.
you both try harder this time. you’ve never had a relationship before but you’ve seen how jackie and kelso’s played out and if you ever end up in that on again-off again sort of dance you’ll shoot yourself and so this time you resolve to do things right, even if that means stepping out of your comfort zone a few times and making compromises that make your head itch.
you’ve never had a relationship before but you really really want this one to work out and that terrifies you more than anything else.
“i can’t believe this, man,” you say in the circle, head dropping into your hands after spending christmas eve with her and waking up this morning wondering what she’s doing over at donna’s and when you’re going to see her. yeah. you think you’re a sissy too.
“you’re so far gone, man, jackie could shoot you and you’d cry about how much you love her,” kelso scoffs. “and lemme tell you, she wanted to shoot me a few times when we were together but if she actually shot me? man, i don’t care how good she is at doing it, i’d be outta there.”
you punch him because that works every time but when kelso stops foreman starts up. “yeah, hyde, you’ve really changed since you got with jackie. you know she’s devil, right? cause that could be what’s rubbing off on you.”
“you shut your mouth, eric,” fez bursts in angrily. “hyde is lucky enough to have jackie rubbing off on him and i think we should all look up to him for that.”
“thanks, fez,” you say and then you steal a piece of his candy because, well, because you’re hungry. “but don’t push it.”
“it was a compliment, hyde,” fez argues, breaking a candy cane in half and fitting both pieces into his mouth.
kelso jumps in with, “yeah, hyde, jackie’s so much hotter than you i can see why you’re insecure about comments --”
“hyde, man, don’t beat up kelso and fez on christmas,” foreman says, leaning back in his chair and cackling. “what would jesus say?”
“bite me,” you tell them, grabbing the joint from foreman and inhaling deeply. “when’s jackie getting here?”
foreman gasps, flutters his eyelashes. “do you miss jackie, hyde? because you loooove her --”
“shut the fuck up, foreman,” you say and you don’t fucking deny what he said because this is what got you here in the first place.
.
you fight all the damn time about weddings and futures and fuck can't she be happy with what they have right here right now. you both yell and shout demanding to know the other’s reasoning for their stance. what you don’t understand is how she can want to get married so badly when both your parents’ ended in messes and the only working marriage you both know is kitty and red’s.
“they were in love when they said their vows, steven,” she tells you and oh, you can see her point now, but no, it’s not enough to change your mind. jackie might be a romantic ready for her heart to be crushed in society’s jaws but you’re smarter than that -- the least you can do is make sure she doesn’t reach that stomped-on-heart phase even if you have to be a jackass about it.
so you fight more and she can’t see that you’re trying to protect her from yourself so you keep shouting and she keeps crying and the only way you can see this ending is in a break-up that neither of you want.
but then eric doesn’t show up to his wedding and you all go home, quiet and confused, and when jackie sneaks into your bed when everyone is asleep you kiss her and don’t say you told her so.
“eric loves donna so much,” she whispers after a long stretch of silence, head on your chest.
“he just wasn’t ready, jackie,” you tell her because that’s all there is to say. you can’t explain it any better. “he thought he was doing the right thing.”
“and now donna’s devastated,” jackie argues, voice still low, words said into your t-shirt. “i’ve always said eric’s an idiot, you know i have, but how can he be so stupid.”
and this is where you have to say it, as much as you don’t want to. “they’re too young, jacks, just like us.” she sits up abruptly, mouth bending into an angry retort but you get in ahead of her. “c’mon, jackie, don’t fight with me. we’re barely out of high school, it’s stupid talking marriage now, what’s wrong with just being happy without rushing anything?”
jackie looks like she’s about to argue, arms folding across her chest, hair flipped over her shoulder, a tiny intimidating shape in the dark moonlight, but she stops herself, sighs, “are you happy, steven?”
“are you kidding, babe?” because it’s always easier around her, you’re never scared of her taking what you say and twisting it, not like the rest of them would. you can say these stupid mushy things and she’ll swallow them up beaming all the while, no judgement. “course i am.”
and then she smiles just a little, corners of her mouth quirking into something that uncurls the tension that had been growing in your belly, and she trails a hand over your chest to cup your cheek. “me too, steven.”
“good,” you say, eager for this to signify the end of weddings and babies and a future both too far and too near to comprehend. “now c’mere, i’m freezing,” and she folds herself into the space between your body and the wall, hands snaking around your waist, head finding your chest, falling into that position you both know so well.
“donna’s going to be okay, isn’t she?” she says quietly, a while after you were sure she was sleeping and you were almost on your way to joining her.
“she has us,” you say, a guarantee.
“i hate eric,” jackie mumbles before she falls asleep, rage for her best friend’s ex-fiance still curled around the fist clutching your shirt.
.
she’s always there, is the thing. just because you love her doesn’t mean she can’t be shrill and annoying and sometimes you want nothing more than to tell her to shut up and leave you alone, damn the consequences.
but, on the flip side, she’s always there. when you learn about your dad and you don’t know what to do, she’s there. she’s rambling on and on about being rich and she won’t stop imagining what he might be like but when you lie down on your bed and pull you against you, fingers carding through her hair, she quietens and it’s enough to let you think, having her there, not quite a distraction but a stabilizer. something else you’d never thought you’d say.
she can be loud and brash, this is true, but when you slip out of that big fancy office in milwaukee she finds you later and winds her arms around you and you breathe for the first time in what feels like hours.
.
“what are you thinking about, steven?” jackie asks you, hand on your knee as they watch tv.
“nothing,” you mutter back, tucking her hair behind her ear to whisper, “you” into her ear and fuck if you went back and told your past self about this he’d punch you in the face and you’d stand there and take it.
but you know what jackie likes to hear so when she grins, eyeing you up, because after all this time you can read each other so well, god help you all, and when you lean into kiss her you’re both stifling a laugh at the reactions from the group.
“jeez, can’t you keep your hands off each other for one episode of charlie’s angels?” donna groans. “ugh, eric, hide me from this. i can’t take it anymore.”
“don’t discourage them, donna,” fez says, and even with your attention all on jackie you can hear fez shuffling along the couch closer to you both. “this is better than charlie’s angels -- i’ve been waiting and waiting every week for some girl on girl action here and nothing .”
“go for the grope, hyde,” kelso calls. “give fez what he wants -- you know he loves boobs.”
and that’s when you leave, propelling jackie into your room ten feet away, jackie laughing and laughing when fez shouts his displeasure.
“you’re disgusting!” foreman yells through before the door thuds closed. “it’s the middle of the day, for god’s sake.” but by this point you’re kissing jackie and she’s making these sounds that go straight to your dick every single time and you couldn’t care less that you’re this dependent on a chick.
.
she calls you puddin’ pop and you call her, well, something equally mushy, but shut up about it, alright? you're freakin' in love.