Archive of Our Own

Laney rolled her eyes and settled further into her pillows, though she knew her cousin couldn’t see her from his position at her desk, “I still don’t understand why you’re freaking out.”

“Well, you know, and, and I know, but this changes- I mean, it’s,” Lenny huffed, and then dropped onto the bed next to Laney, knocking their shoulders together and jostling her, “Look, I always had suspicions, you know that, but now that I know, I’ve been, like, obsessing over finding the perfect moment to tell the band. But there’s never been a perfect moment, and I feel like I’m going to explode. We have a big show tomorrow, and I can’t ruin it by making everything awkward, but I know if I see them, I’ll blurt out that I’m gay!”

“And, this is a bad thing?”

“Dude, yes!” Lenny’s arms flailed briefly, “What if they hate me-”

“They won’t.”

“- or hate me because I kept it a secret for so long-”

“They’ll understand.”

“-or what if they think I’m disgusting because I’m gay?”

“It won’t be because you’re gay, dork.”

“Whu? Hey!” A half-hearted punch landed on Laney’s arm, and she laughed as she swatted away Lenny’s attempts at landing another, “I’m being serious!”

Laney caught her cousin’s fist and turned her head to look at him, “I’m being serious, too. The Spewmans are your friends, Len. But more importantly, they’re your band. Your band is a sacred brotherhood, you’re connected through your music and- oh my God, what is wrong with me, I sound like Core. But you get what I mean. You being gay won’t change how they already feel about you.”

“Leave it to the Grojnerd to try to make an inspirational speech. But, Laney, you don’t get it. Logically, I know they’ll probably accept me, but there’s always that chance that it makes things weird, so I can’t mess this up before tomorrow.”

The ‘it’ she didn’t get wasn’t actually true. Laney just hadn’t found the appropriate moment to tell Lenny that she was queer, hadn’t really found the moment to tell anyone other than Corey, who she had told when they were thirteen and had admired the same pretty girl, and Kin and Kon during one of their late night we-need-to-learn-to-write-our-own-songs sessions. Her queerness had never been something she felt the need to state to many people, because it had been something she had always known, and it hadn’t seemed like that big of a deal to her.

“Then skip practice?”

Lenny groaned, “Then Care will ask me why before the show, and then it’s gonna be even weirder!”

“Haven’t you ever missed practice and just told the Spewmans you were busy?”

“No,” Laney had a moment to think of the Grojband practices she had missed with nothing more than a ‘busy’ text to the boys, and wondered if she was the problem, or Lenny was just strange, “But that doesn’t matter, Lanes, please you’re the only one who can help.”

“Having me fill in for the Spewmans band practice is like, the worst idea you’ve ever had. Do you seriously think Beff, or the Kagamis are going to care?”

“They might, and that’s a risk I can’t take. You know I’m terrible with keeping things to myself.”

Which, that was true. For such an anxious guy, Lenny was a pretty open book when it came to his friends. Or with Laney. Lenny wasn’t the type of guy who could keep how he felt to himself for very long.

The thing was, Laney knew Lenny coming out would be well received, but she couldn’t exactly say how she knew. Because, again, she hadn’t told Lenny she liked girls, and she couldn’t exactly say ‘Carrie Beff would be a hypocrite if she judged you for being gay since her tongue has been in my mouth’. Laney couldn’t imagine that going over well. Since, one, that would mean outing Carrie to Lenny, who didn’t seem to know anything about her sexuality, and, two, that would mean revealing that Laney had been locking lips with the Newman’s frontman at parties, which wasn’t something she or Carrie had been open about because of the still-living feud that existed between their two bands.

It wasn’t like they were dating, or anything ridiculous like that. Laney and Carrie just happened to have a mutual attraction that kept drawing them together every time they were intoxicated at a party and found themselves away from their respective bands. It wasn’t serious, they weren’t serious, and Laney wasn’t about to out Carrie for what could only generously be called a situationship at best (not that Laney would out Carrie if they were dating, they just weren’t. Because that would be insanity.)

Lenny eventually grew tired of Laney’s continued silence and sighed again, “Please, Lanes. You are literally the only person who could help me. We used to switch places all the time when we were kids, just help me out this once.”

“Uh, we switched places when we were, like, eight. You know, back when we were the same height? And definitely before either of us hit puberty. I think even the Spewmans would notice if your hair suddenly grew out. Or, if you grew boobs overnight.”

Lenny sat up, turning towards Laney with incredibly serious eyes, “You’re only an inch taller than I am. Don’t wear your chunky boots, and no one will notice. I don’t really think they’d notice anyways, so long as you can still do your impression of me.”

“Okay, the Spewmans aren’t that dumb, Lenny.”

He frowned, “They’re my friends, I know they’re not dumb. But you wear my clothes, and do the impression, and you just go to practice. Glare like you usually do, and squint at the light, and tell them you’ve got a migraine.”

“I don’t know your songs.”

“We’ve got a few hours, you can learn what you need to so you aren’t sight reading, and then blame the mistakes on the migraine.”

“Again, dude, my hair isn’t short like yours.”

“You’ve been wanting to get it cut for a bit now, right? We’ll do that first.”

Laney slapped a hand onto her face, groaning, “This is a terrible idea. Like, the worst.”

“Please?”

“Dude, no.”

“I’ll buy you new strings for your bass.”

“Tempting, but still, no.”

Lenny sighed, tipping his head back to stare at her ceiling, “I’ll run interference between you and Uncle Lester on Thanksgiving.”

“Len, come on. This is the best solution? Seriously?”

“I’ll take the fall when Auntie Lee sees your hair and starts yelling. And I’ll cover for you for every party you go to for the rest of the semester.”

Finally, Laney cracked a grin, “That, and everything else you’ve said, and you’ve got a deal.”

“Seriously?”

“I’m going to regret it, but sure. What could possibly go wrong?”

/\/\/\/\/\/\

Three hours later found Laney with a slightly choppy new haircut, carefully styled in the mirror to mostly resemble Lenny’s preferred method of letting his bangs fall in front of his face. Laney’s hands had to be swatted away from her hair, because it was her first time seeing herself with hair so short, and she had enjoyed pushing it back away from her face. She knew she’d be pushing it back as soon as she was done pretending to be Lenny.

She’d practiced enough of the Newmans’ songs that they wouldn’t suddenly think Lenny had forgotten everything, but she knew it wouldn’t hold it up if Carrie was as much of a taskmaster with her band as Corey was with theirs. Laney would be a decent substitute for a practice, but she was nowhere near performance ready.

Then Lenny had given her his clothes. A leather jacket that may as well have come straight out of her closet, one of the Newmans’ hoodies, and her own black jeans. Lenny had done her makeup and given her the rings that usually adorned his fingers, and she had put on her (not-lifted) boots that still left her standing taller than her cousin. Add one binder (from Grojband’s drag performance, that was then later used when Corey wanted to have them be as androgynous as possible), and Laney was ready to go. 

Standing in front of her mirror with Lenny by her side, Laney had to admit they looked remarkably similar. Thank Lenny’s hard work for that, she supposed. Or thank the Penn twins for falling in love with the Nepp twins, and the wonderful genetics that made it so she and her cousin looked like they could be twins. Their eye colours were slightly off, and Laney could see the differences, but so long as no one looked too closely, Laney thought they might actually pull it off.

The final step was switching phones. Not that Laney felt it was necessary, but it wouldn’t do to have her phone start blaring some of Grojband’s music because Corey had called her three times in a panic after not hearing from her for a few hours when they could be having valuable band time. Because, Corey was already texting her about her coming by to chill.

“Are you sure the Grojnerds aren’t going to question you?”

“What about ‘hanging with the ‘rents’ would make them question me? If they keep texting, just say you’re going to see a movie or something.”

“But what if they want to come break you out? Or they call an emergency band practice? What if they call, Laney?”

Laney sighed, “Uh, tell them mom needs help, tell them you can’t make the practice, and don’t answer if they call. Just text.”

“I think I can still do a pretty good impression of you. You’re being me, I could pretend to be you with the Grojnerds.”

“Absolutely not, dude. Core will have you figured out in a heartbeat, and then he’ll bitch that you guys are trying to spy on us, which will somehow result in us following Corey’s crazy plan to get a spot during your show to show you up, and I don’t have the energy for that.”

Lenny scoffed, “You think Corey Riffin will figure me out immediately? Riffin? Seriously?”

“He has his moments, okay? He’s not as dumb as he looks, and you’re not as good an actor as I am. I’m being serious, Len, stay in my room, and ignore any Grojband texts while I go practice for you.”

“Fine, fine, whatever. I won’t leave your room.”

“Then I’m heading out. Catch you when I’m done with the Spewmans!” Laney called, already exiting her room.

“You can’t call them that when you’re there!”

“I know,” she yelled back, already imitating Lenny’s deeper tone of voice in preparation for band practice with the Newmans.

Her mom bumped into her at the bottom of the stairs, arms full of laundry, and Laney instinctively reached to help her.

“Thank you, Lenny,” her mother said, “Are you heading out now?”

“Uh,” she floundered for a second, but kept her voice low like Lenny, “Yes. I’ve got practice with the Sp- the Newmans. For our show.”

“Laney told you that we were coming, right? She might not sit with us, but she told me she was proud of you guys and wouldn’t miss the show for anything.”

Laney felt a heat immediately rush to her cheeks and she was sure her ears were already blazing red. She had told Lenny that her parents were attending the Newmans show, but she had told her mother that she was proud of Lenny in confidence. Had Lenny actually been standing in front of her mother, the woman would have casually revealed her secret and Lenny would have never let Laney live it down. They were rivals, for rock’s sake. Cousin status doesn’t trump band loyalty.

“Yup! Yes! Thank you, mo- Auntie Lee! Looking forward to it, but I’m gonna be late. Love you, bye!”

She escaped quickly, leaving her mother behind. Laney shook her head once she was outside her house. She needed to bring her A-game if she was going to convince the Newmans, and right now, she was dropping the ball. Her disguise had been good enough to fool her mother, so the Newmans would be a walk in the park so long as she didn’t make a silly slip like she had been close to doing before.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Thankfully for Laney, she had been to the Beff household before (though, for obvious reasons, Corey had no idea this had occurred. But Lenny had invited Laney to a summer-is-over bash that the Newmans had hosted at Carrie’s while Corey was helping Trina move into her dorm with their father, and Laney had dragged Kin and Kon. They’d all gotten free alcohol during the party and listened to some decent music, but they’d sworn each other to secrecy at the end of the evening (especially the part about enjoying the Newmans’ music.) so it wasn’t hard to find, and Laney knew where the basement was once she’d gotten into the house.

(It had been smooth sailing. Mina had answered the door, and Laney had greeted her casually and been let inside. Mina had given her a look when she’d answered the door, but the girl was as polite as ever, so Laney just assumed she hadn’t kept the ‘Lenny voice’ as on lock as she should have been.)

Now all that was left was for her to enter the basement and face the Newmans.

Laney could hear music drifting up from the basement, even through the closed door, and she let it wash over her to calm her down. She knew her cousin, and though she’d never admit it, Laney had listened to him talk about his friends enough that she felt like she knew them, too. Laney’s biggest concern was Carrie, because the other girl was her cousin’s best friend, but she was also someone Laney had gotten close to outside of their respective bands and the rivalry, and it was casual, truly (they weren’t even friends, probably, but Laney knew herself well enough to know that she wanted to be closer to the other girl) but it was strange trying to reconcile the image she had of Carrie in her mind with the one she was supposed to have as ‘Lenny’.

She should think of Carrie the same way she thinks of Corey. Probably. Two people that have never kissed and had no intention of doing so.

Because the alternative was- well, the alternative was thinking about Carrie, face flushed and dazed, or with her soft smile, or the way her eyes looked in the hazy light of a party after Laney had just kissed her until they were breathless.

‘Anddddd great. Now I’m thinking about Beff’s stupid, kissable lips,’ Laney thought.

And she had numerous images to choose from in her brain. 

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\ 

[The First Time - Nick Mallory’s House, Some Months Ago]

Leaning back against the wall behind her, Laney surveyed the party with hazy, unfocused eyes. She was surrounded by her classmates, dancing and drinking and just generally having a good time, but Laney herself was alone. 

She’d been nursing her beer basically since the party had started, not wanting to get too crazy when Grojband was supposed to have a practice tomorrow, but that plan had gone out the window. Not because of her, mind you. No, Laney was perfectly content to ride the high she’d gotten from the joint she and Kon had shared and build a slow buzz from a beer or two before leaving the party, so she wouldn’t be hungover tomorrow, like the band had agreed on, but Kon had blown that plan to smithereens. Laney hadn’t been present when everything had initially blown up, but she’d heard the cheers when the keg had first been brought out. It was, afterall, a Mallory party tradition.

(Nick Mallory had started the tradition, back when he had first started hosting parties, though Grojband had only heard about that through the grapevine. They’d been invited to a few of Nick’s larger parties when they’d just started highschool, and played at a number of them, too, but he had always done his best to ensure that if they were getting their hands on alcohol, it wasn’t from him. So Laney had only witnessed the legendary Nick Mallory keg stand twice. The first time, during his graduation party, and the second time when he had been home from university in his first year and had been pulled into the excitement by a few of his younger friends.

Vick Mallory, Nick’s younger sister, had carried on the tradition in honour of her brother, and the keg would make an appearance at practically every party the Mallory’s hosted. The house record (Nick’s) was practically untouchable, and Vick had warned against trying if one couldn’t hold their alcohol. But their year record was a different story. Vick, despite having her brother’s same ‘too cool’ demeanor and seeming to possess his same tolerance for alcohol, was not a keg stand enthusiast. So their year record was held by none other than Kon.)

Sometime after the cheers, one of the Spewmans had started yelling, which had set Corey off, and had then somehow led to Kon needing to defend his honour as the keg stand champion. Konnie was his main competition, but from everything Laney had heard from inside the house, Corey was determined to put up his own best time and her cousin had decided that Corey needed to be taken down a peg and Lenny was just the guy to do it. Kin had set up a betting pool (which Laney had passed along some money for Kon, and refused to bet between Corey and Lenny) and Vick had gone out to be the impartial timekeeper.

Laney had hoped some sense would magically drop into her bandmates’ empty skulls, but since she was inside and they were all outside with the keg, that hope was more like a far-fetched dream. If she really cared, she could head outside to stop her friends before the competition could even kick off, but Corey would have a speech ready about ‘not-retreating-in-the-face-of-evil’ and Lenny would be smug as hell when he came over for family dinner, and Laney was just too tired, and a bit too high, to be the voice of reason tonight.

She blinked slow, stared at her half-empty beer, and thought, ‘Fuck it,’ and downed the rest of it.

Vick had given Grojband a free pass to the alcohol in her kitchen, and if the rest of Grojband were going to participate in a keg competition, then Laney didn’t have to limit herself either. Now she just needed another beer.

Which is what she would have grabbed if a pale hand hadn’t wrapped around her fingers as Laney went to pull the last beer free from the ice bucket. She glanced up, ready to apologise to whoever was reaching for the beer, when green eyes locked onto brown.

Carrie Beff was standing directly in front of Laney, reaching for her beer, the guitarist’s fingers loosely wrapped around Laney’s around the neck of the bottle. Laney scowled.

“Piss off, Spewman. Don’t you have to go watch as Grojband crushes you guys on the keg like we crush you everywhere else?”

If it had been anyone else, they might have let go of the bottle (and Laney’s hand). If it had been anything but the last beer, Carrie might have let go just so she wouldn’t be seen touching one of her mortal enemies. But it wasn’t anyone else, and it was the last beer, and Carrie simply tightened her grip and straightened, pulling the beer (and Laney) closer to her body.

“Shouldn’t you be trying to talk Riffin out of embarrassing himself in front of everyone? I heard you’re good at being a wet blanket for these kinds of things.”

“Did you chicken out of the competition? I thought it was part of your band code to get your ass kicked together.”

“Lenny could kick Riffin’s ass any day of the week, he doesn’t need my help to do it. Now, if you could just let go of my beer, I could go watch your beloved leader fail.”

“Your beer? Check again, Beff, my hand-”

“Excuse me?”

Laney turned to glare at the blonde staring between her and Carrie, and saw Carrie do the same from the corner of her eye. The girl wrung her hands nervously, but didn’t say a word.

“Dude, what?” Laney bit out.

The blonde flicked her eyes to Carrie and flinched, “You’re just, um, you’re kind of-”

“Spit it out, Levine,” Carrie barked.

“You guys are standing over the ice bucket and blocking people! I don’t know what weird ritual you two are doing over a mediocre beer, but Grojband and the Newmans already took up the keg for one pissing contest tonight, can you two take it elsewhere?”

The girl, Levine, though Laney couldn’t recall her first name, didn’t look very confident while saying her piece, but she had two of her friends standing behind her, both of whom looked far more sure of themselves while glaring at Laney and Carrie.

Before Laney could decide if she wanted to apologise to the other girls, argue with them, or try to snatch the beer away from Carrie, Carrie made the decision for her. The taller girl’s free hand latched onto Laney’s wrist, dragging her and the beer around the ice bucket and out of the kitchen.

“You can’t just grab people!” Laney complained.

“You grabbed my beer, and I don’t feel like speaking with Levine anymore than I have to, so deal with it.”

Laney growled, “It isn’t your beer. I knew you were dumb, Beff, but this is-”

Laney’s words were cut off by Carrie shoving her backwards against the wall of the hallway they had ended up in. Her breath left her lungs in a little puff of oxygen, and Carrie used her momentary silence to step closer and pull their still connected hands closer to her face so she could point at the beer.

“Vick knows this is the only type of beer I drink, and she gave the Newmans free reign of the kitchen. It’s my beer, Penn. Get something else.”

She had to look up to make eye contact with Carrie, which was already annoying enough with the boys, given that she had remained the shortest member of Grojband while the rest of them had grown, but it was worse with Carrie. Either because she had that extra bit of height that left her standing taller than Corey (which she used against him at every opportunity, and Corey complained about every time it was brought up) or because it was Carrie, who had dragged her into this hallway and then forced Laney to look up at her.

“Vick gave Grojband the same pass,” Laney argued, “And, not to sound too elementary here, but my hand was literally on the bottle first. Like, you’re holding my hand, trying to take my beer. Why don’t you go drink something else?”

Carrie slid her hand off of Laney’s like she’d been burned, but she kept her grip on the bottle itself, scowling at Laney as she moved even closer. The sudden loss of Carrie’s warmth was noticeable, and Laney almost wanted to call it disappointing, which just meant she really did need this beer.

“I could just take it from you. The rest of the Grojnerds aren’t here to defend you.”

Laney’s glare would be enough to deter anyone else, but it had little effect on Carrie. Either because the other girl was so used to seeing it, or because she truly didn’t care, Laney didn’t know.

“I don’t need them to defend me, I’m plenty capable of doing that myself,” Laney growled. And she was sure the effect was diminished by the fact that Carrie was towering over her, but Laney was not blessed with height from the genetic lottery. “But you’re gonna need the Spewmans when I’m- okay, no. You’re too fucking tall.”

With no warning, Laney used her free hand to fist the material of Carrie’s collar, pulling the taller girl closer to Laney’s level, glaring as she forced the other girl down. Carrie’s shock was clear, and her free hand smacked loudly into the wall next to Laney’s head to prevent her from toppling over.

“You’re not all that on your own, Beff,” Laney continued, “I’m alone, but so are you, and smart money says you don’t win this fight.”

Even in the dim light of the party, Laney could see a flush rising in Carrie’s cheeks. The change in colour was the only reason Laney’s eyes drift over the guitarist’s face, the only reason why Laney’s eyes flick over Carrie’s parted lips.

On the beer bottle, Carrie’s hand drifted upwards again, her fingers sliding across the neck and drifting over Laney’s, pushing their hands backwards towards the wall. Laney suppressed a shiver at the feeling, and tried valiantly not to think about the fact that she was pinned.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Penn?” Carrie mumbled, but her voice had lost the heat from before, and Carrie’s gaze was locked on Laney’s lips.

And, oh.

That thrilled Laney more than it should. Because this wasn’t just any Newman. This was the Newman. The frontman. The Joker to Corey’s Batman. Her best friend’s sworn arch-enemy, his nemesis, and the girl that Laney was honour bound to hate because that’s just what life was like for Grojband and the Newmans.

But Laney was still feeling hazy, and no one else was in this hallway to see them, and she had always known that Carrie was a pretty girl. And right then, eyes so brown they looked black were locked onto her lips, and Carrie was slipping her fingers once more into Laney’s own, pressing their hands and the beer bottle into the wall, and the taller girl had a pretty flush on her cheeks that Laney had had a hand in causing. All because Carrie had been too tall and Laney was sick of craning her neck upwards.

“Wanna find out?” Laney asked.

She didn’t give Carrie much time to process beyond the slight widening of her eyes. Laney’s hand slid from Carrie’s collar to her neck, pulling the girl closer while Laney used her thumb to press against the blue-haired girl’s jaw as Laney closed the distance.

Carrie made a small noise of surprise that was easily swallowed by Laney’s mouth, but she made no move to pull away. If anything, as soon as their lips were pressed together, Carrie closed the remaining distance between them, fully pressing Laney into the wall behind her.

Even just that first press of lips against lips was enough to send Laney’s brain to the abyss. All she could think of was the feeling of Carrie’s body pressed against her own, the way the other girl hadn’t fought Laney’s pull, going along with the movement and meeting every move Laney made with her own. Laney pulled back just enough to see half-lidded eyes, pulled back just enough to think ‘I’m screwed,’ and then Laney’s pulling Carrie back in for another kiss.

Carrie’s hand fell to Laney’s waist, the beer basically forgotten, as the taller girl leaned fully into her. Laney’s tongue barely pressed against Carrie’s bottom lip, and the other girl was already opening her own mouth to eagerly deepen the kiss.

It’s just the two of them, Carrie matching every move Laney made, but for once, interacting with the other girl didn’t feel like a fight. That would imply there was some sort of battle for dominance, but even pressed into the wall, Laney’s been calling the shots since she first pulled Carrie into a kiss. Instead, it’s more like a dance. One that Laney was very much leading, but one where Carrie quickly followed, lips and tongue eager, and hands hot against Laney’s hips.

Through the haze and the heat that’s spread from their lips, Laney could just barely make out the chanting of Kon’s name in the background. Then she remembered that she came here with her band, and Carrie is a Newman, and Laney’s free hand was pressing against Carrie’s sternum, pushing the other girl back until she’s the one pressed against the wall. Carrie let Laney push her, never breaking their kiss, and her hands tightened against Laney as soon as her back hit the wall. 

And that? The guitarist’s eagerness, the way she let Laney move her made Laney want to stay and see how far she could push things.

But her brain had started spiraling towards ‘potential consequences’ so Laney ducked away from Carrie, the beer in hand as she moved further down the hall.

“Later, Spewman,” Laney called, glancing over her shoulder just so she could see the way Carrie was slumped against the wall, unfocused gaze locked onto the ceiling as her hand drifted upwards to press against her lips.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

[Beff Household, Now]

Laney shook herself free of the memory, tried to quell the blush rising in her cheeks and the thrill that came with the knowledge that headstrong Carrie Beff yields to Laney like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

(Normally, Laney wouldn’t be so confident in her own abilities, but from the first time to their most recent time making out, Carrie could talk a big game and tease like Laney couldn’t believe, but as soon as their lips touched, Laney had all the control. Carrie was an eager participant, but they’d learned enough about each other for Laney to easily state that, in their dynamic, it was natural for Carrie to submit to Laney.)

‘Think like Lenny,’ she reminded herself, and began to descend the stairs.

She’s halfway down when one of the Spewmans clocked her presence. It’s just Laney’s luck that it’s Carrie who noticed her.

“You’re late, Leonard.”

Laney winced. Full names meant trouble, every time.

Instead of rattling off some excuse while she was on the stairs, Laney finished descending, and immediately decided to curse Lenny’s name. Or her own, because she could not confidently think of Carrie as ‘best-friend-and-frontman-of-her-band’ when Carrie was wearing the tank top she’d worn to the last party they had snuck off from. 

Just two weeks ago, Laney’s hands had been under that same shirt, because it was so low-cut that Laney’s eyes had been drawn there from the start. Carrie had played into it, noticing Laney’s eyes, and had shed her leather jacket at the earliest opportunity, finding every excuse to lean or cross her arms so Laney’s gaze was drawn again and again to her chest. It had gotten so bad that Carrie had intercepted Laney when she was going down stairs, and then Laney had dragged the taller girl into the nearest closet and left a hickey that Carrie hadn’t bothered to cover at school.

The mark had faded now, and even though Carrie was bent over fiddling with an amp, Laney’s eyes still traced where it had been as the desire to leave another rose within her.

“Uh, sorry, Carrie,” Laney muttered, and paused when Carrie’s eyes snapped to meet hers, head tilted. She’d twisted to better face Laney, and Laney’s eyes immediately dropped to the other girl’s chest. Heat rose in her cheeks and Laney winced, remembering the migraine excuse Lenny had told her to use, “I got a migraine, made the whole trip slower.”

She raised her hand to the back of her neck and dropped her eyes off to the side, half-attempting to appear sheepish while the other half of her was about to keel over from nerves.

“Do you need some ibuprofen?” Konnie asked.

“Uh, no, I already took something.”

Carrie had stood and moved to stand directly in front of Laney. Without any warning, the taller girl grabbed Laney’s jaw, forcing her to look into Carrie’s brown eyes. Alarm bells flashed in her mind as Carrie leaned close to her face, and Laney couldn’t stop her eyes from widening as her heart raced in her chest.

‘Don’t look at her lips, don’t look at her lips,’ she chanted in her mind.

Then, Carrie brought her free hand up to shield Laney’s eyes from the basement lights, “Aw, Lenny. Are you just light-sensitive right now, or is noise getting to you, too? Is this one of your bad ones? Do you want me to call practice?”

Laney, who had never had a migraine in her life, could do little more than croak out, “Just lights, I’m good for practice.”

“Konnie, dim the lights, please.”

“On it, Care!”

It was only after the lights had dimmed that Carrie finally released Laney’s face. But it was so she could trail her hand down the side of Laney’s neck as her spare hand came to curl against her own chest, her face turning as she pouted. Laney, victim to the beauty that Carrie seemed to exude even without meaning to, found her eyes once again drawn to the other girl’s chest.

“Let me know if anything gets too much for you, Lenny,” her voice was just south of mocking, but Laney had no time to question the tone because Carrie suddenly smirked and pushed Laney towards Lenny’s bass, “We’re running this practice hard, I want us ready for tomorrow.”

And Laney knew she was doomed.

The next hour of her life could be described, very simply, as hell.

Now, according to Lenny (anxious, self-deprecating, humble Lenny), Laney was the better bass player of the two. Her sight-reading was stronger, she learned quicker than he could, and she knew more about composition because she’d stuck with the music program throughout high school and started taking classes on the side to better learn theory and how to create a song (which was because of one of Corey’s schemes that Laney had stuck with afterwards, but Lenny didn’t know that).

According to Laney, (less-anxious, probably more self-deprecating) she was a damn good bass player, a lacklustre song-writer, and a semi-decent musician in general. She could hear the weak points in her playing, which always served to frustrate her, even if these weren’t her band’s songs, and she knew she was relying too heavily on the music written for the bass part of the song. She thought it was obvious from the first too-slow verse that she was an imposter.

The truth was probably somewhere in the middle. Corey had sung her praises enough that Laney knew she didn’t give herself enough credit, but she knew her playing was rougher than it should be given that she’s pretending to be Lenny and should have her part memorised. It’s not obvious, and she could use her pretend sickness as an excuse, but Laney’s anxiety still grew.

The real problem wasn’t her playing, though. It’s the band synergy.

Laney’s seen enough Newman shows to know how the band normally acts on stage together. Konnie was bright energy and enthusiastic drumming. Kim’s keytar allowed her to move more around the stage, graceful in every step. Lenny’s ‘bass-face’ was more like Laney’s resting face, which was to say, he turned serious on stage. His nerves seemed to fade away, and though Laney would never admit this to her cousin, he rose into a cool-guy persona, chill and steady. He closed his eyes far more than Laney ever would, to feel the groove, but he always knew where the band was on stage.

And then there was Carrie.

She owned the stage. Maybe it was just Laney, looking at their performances with her queer gaze, but Carrie’s beauty hit new heights while she performed. The other girl was a chameleon, fitting the vibes of the song and matching the energy, be it energetic dancing, sexy confidence and purposeful movements, or even just the way she flowed in and out of her band’s personal space.

Take the Newman’s forged-in-the-fires-of-rock teamwork, add in Grojband’s own Laney Penn, and you had a recipe for many errors.

Constantly having to remind herself to ditch the smile (because her own playing was far more bubbly than she ever was off-stage (sue her, music made her happy)) and imitate Lenny’s cool stage presence, while trying to play his parts, and trying to not bump into Kim or Carrie, was taking a toll.

So far, Laney had bumped into Kim twice, messed with the pacing of two songs, and been instructed by Carrie to run through Lenny’s part alone, with all the eyes of the band watching, faster than the song was even supposed to be played. Don’t even get her started on how many times she’d gotten in Carrie’s way. If the other girl wasn’t riding Laney’s ass on every error, she’d almost think Carrie was doing it on purpose.

Carrie danced too close to Laney, her tank top sitting lower as she moved around the basement, and Laney’s attempt to not ogle results in a missed note? Balance on one leg and play the part again.

Laney stepped left when Carrie stepped right and they bump into each other? Carrie caught herself by pressing her hand against Laney’s sternum, and then Laney’s stumbling back because her brain screamed ‘binder’ at her too late.

Laney almost tripped over a cord on the ground during a five minute break when Konnie was in the bathroom, because Carrie had decided to sing a portion of Sabrina Carpenter’s ‘Juno’ during the pause and Laney swore the other girl was singing to her when she did? Carrie decided that Laney’s migraine was starting to get to her, and she should sit down while they ran through the next song. On a chair more forward than the place she had been standing. Facing directly towards Carrie. Who slipped into the role of seductress with the way her voice caressed every note of the song and her body moved.

Which, that last one wasn’t Carrie pushing her to do better, it was sweet, truthfully. But where Lenny would have sat in the chair and played the song with no care in the world, Laney was reminding herself every twenty seconds that she’s Lenny and Lenny didn’t want to pull Carrie out of the room to press her against the nearest wall and kiss her breathless.

Something that Laney would very much like to do. 

She should have stuck with her gut instinct to not do this, Lenny’s sad eyes be damned, because as much as Laney liked Carrie, her feelings for the other girl had never been platonic, friendship feelings. It had been blood-feud rivalry and antagonistic interactions, and then it had been desire-based and wanting to press the taller girl into the nearest wall until she was putty in Laney’s hands. Laney and Carrie had never spent any time together that hadn’t ended in a fight or making out.

And now, it was like all of the teasing Carrie had dished out at parties times ten. Laney was riled up and she couldn’t do a damn thing about it. If this was how Carrie behaved around her friends, it was for the best that the Newmans and Grojband had their rivalry.

‘You’re Lenny. You’re Lenny,’ she reminded herself, for the hundredth time.

“Lenny, are you sure the migraine hasn’t gotten worse?” Carrie asked.

“No, I’m fine. It’s chill-”

“I dunno,” Konnie muttered, “Look at him.”

Kim tilted her head, “He does look particularly red today.”

“No, honest-”

“That’s it!” Carrie announced, “I’m calling it. We’re ready for tomorrow, but we won’t be if Lenny takes himself out because he doesn’t take care of his headache.”

Konnie laughed and Kim nodded, “We’d be down a bassist right before our show. A number of our fans would be disappointed not to see you, Len, and we’d have to use your pre-recorded lines, or cancel.”

“That, or find a replacement,” Konnie added.

“On such short notice? I can name two decent bass players our age, and one of them is a Grojnerd.”

Laney felt her lips twitch up into a smile, knowing no Newman would ever be caught dead complimenting someone from Grojband, bar Lenny, who could get away with it solely based on blood. And even then, he would compliment Laney to her face, not to his band.

“They look enough alike, dontcha think? Imagine, we get Penn up there and she pretends to be Len, and then no one ever has to know a Grojnerd helped the Newmans,” Konnie guffawed and Laney choked.

Kim misunderstood her choking, because the girl was quick to reassure, “No, no, don’t worry, Len. We wouldn’t actually replace you. It would never work, anyways. You’re our guy, and Laney’s too-”

The sentence trailed off and Kim made a so-so gesture with her hands. Laney was offended, because what did that even mean?

“Too what?”

Kim rolled her eyes, “You know. Your vibes are different. She’s too scary to be you.”

“And hot,” Konnie added.

“What!?” Laney and Carrie choked out at the same time.

Konnie raised her hands in surrender, “I know she’s your cousin, but I have eyes. You’re like a brother to me, but she is enemy eye candy. And I don’t know why you’re shocked, you’re the one who pointed it out in the first place.”

The last part was directed at Carrie, and Laney turned to look at the other girl as a blush rapidly rose in her cheeks.

She couldn’t help but smirk, “You think my cousin is hot?”

Carrie’s blush spread down her neck, “Shut up, Lenny.”

“I mean, wow, Beff, talk about interesting taste, am I right? Do you want me to pass on the message?”

Carrie was moving before Laney had even finished speaking. She grabbed the lapel of Laney’s jacket, took the bass from her lap and set it on a stand, and started dragging Laney physically out of the room.

“Lenny’s migraine is clearly getting to him, girls. I’m gonna make sure he takes more meds and takes a nap, don’t worry about cleaning up, see you later, bye!”

The last thing Laney saw of Kim and Konnie was them exchanging looks and shrugging, then she was being dragged up the stairs before she could protest.

“Carrie, it’s cool, really, I can head home-”

“Shut up.”

Laney had to bite her tongue to keep herself from saying anything. ‘What crawled up your ass and died’ wouldn’t go over well. Neither would ‘make me’. From everything she knew, Lenny tended to go along with Carrie the same way Laney went along with (most of) Corey’s insane plans, which meant she couldn’t argue her way out of being alone with the girl.

“Sorry, Carrie,” Laney settled on.

She couldn’t tell if it’s the wrong thing to say based on the way Carrie stopped and looked at her. Laney avoided her gaze, because she’s thinking of the first time Carrie dragged her through a house, and that is not a productive thought given she should instead be thinking of a way out of taking drugs to help a headache she didn’t have.

“Oh, Lenny,” the other girl pressed her hand against Laney’s cheek and forced her to look at Carrie again. She had a devilish smirk on her face, and then they were moving again, Laney’s jacket still firmly held in Carrie’s hand as the taller girl dragged Laney up the stairs towards what Laney assumed was her room.

Laney was shoved into the centre of the room while Carrie turned to lock the door behind them, and Laney had only a few seconds to take in a room she’s supposed to be familiar with but had never seen before in her life.

During their party, the Newman’s had barred people from the second floor with the threat of death should any ignore their rules to try their luck upstairs. Laney was a somewhat decent person and respected other people’s space and privacy, so she hadn’t even entertained the idea of being near the stairs, but she knew a fellow soon-to-be sophomore had run out of the house in tears when they had tried.

(The rumour mill had cranked out all kinds of tales, but Laney had watched Mina come down the stairs  halfway through the party to whisper something to Carrie before returning back upstairs, and she had put two and two together. Especially since Lenny had missed dinner with their combined family the next day because he was helping Carrie move Mina and her things to college. The end of high school had been rough for Mina, from what Laney knew, because Trina was even more unhinged on the approach to university, and even Laney could admit she might have been scared off by a Mina who was releasing her pent-up aggression on assholes trying to do who-knows-what in their private spaces.)

From what Laney could see, Carrie’s walls were covered in band posters, most of which Laney recognised, there was an amp in one corner, and a few guitars hanging on the wall next to it, and there was an incredibly comfy looking bay window with cushions and blankets galore.

That was about all Laney had the time to take in, because then Carrie’s hands were slipping around her waist, her fingers snaking beneath the hem of Laney’s sweater with ease as Laney jumped.

She wanted to whirl around and question Carrie, but the hands on her skin were solid and Laney was directed towards the window seating before she could protest.

Carrie moved to a mini-fridge, pulled out a bottle of water, and then made her way across the room to her desk, rifled through one of the drawers and came out triumphantly with a bottle of pills.

Laney’s stomach lurched for more than just the smirk on Carrie’s face.

“Alright, Lenny, I still have the migraine meds you left here. Take one so you’ll feel better.”

She most certainly was not going to take those drugs.

“I already told you, I took something before I left, I’m good.”

“You seem so out of it, Lenny. This will help.”

“No, really-”

Carrie tilted Laney’s head back and, in one swift move, straddled Laney’s lap. She practically purred her next words, “The sooner it’s over the sooner you can rest.”

Laney was going to kill her cousin, for not telling her that Carrie was like this. He was gay, a pretty girl in his lap would probably end up with him rolling his eyes, or being as unbothered as ever if it was Carrie. Unfortunately for Laney, she was also gay, so having a pretty girl (the same pretty girl that she’d been making out with for months, the one she had a not-insignificant thing for) in her lap was becoming all kinds of problematic, because now she had to fight every gut instinct she had to act like Lenny and not do anything about it.

“I,” her brain scrambled for an excuse, “Took extra before I came, just to be safe. Don’t want to overdo it.”

Carrie shrugged and tossed the pill bottle somewhere behind her, “At least drink some water, then, Lenny.”

That, Laney could do, “Sure.”

She reached for the water bottle, but Carrie opened it and grabbed Laney’s jaw, keeping her in place.

“Let me.”

And Laney didn’t really have enough female friends to know if this was just how girls were, or if there was something else to this interaction, but there wasn’t exactly much she could do about it with Carrie on her lap. The bottle was raised to her lips, and Laney managed probably two swallows before Carrie moved her hand and spilled some of the bottle onto Laney.

She jumped at the cold but the hand against her jaw didn't let her move very far.

“How clumsy of me,” Carrie pouted, “Let’s get you out of that wet shirt, Lenny.”

Quick hands moved down to the hem of her sweatshirt but Laney’s self-preservation instincts kicked in before Carrie could start to lift it.

“It’s just water,” she choked, hands firmly locked around Carrie’s wrists.

“You’re so annoying,” Carrie grumbled. With a roll of her eyes, she released Laney and moved her hands to the hem of her own shirt, “I’ll take something off, too, so you’re not alone.”

The tank top was up and over Carrie’s head before Laney could stop her, because her self-preservation instincts had fled to make way for Laney’s dipshit, horny brain. Eyes widening, Laney reeled back, her head thunking against the window as she threw her gaze towards the ceiling above her.

Except, the theme of the day was Carrie not letting Laney run away, and the other girl was quick to bring her hands down to Laney’s to guide them up to hold her waist.

“What’s wrong, Lenny? It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

It was very much everything Laney had not seen, bar her own body in the mirror, but this was nothing like that. She and Carrie hadn’t done anything outside of parties, where they had ten minutes to themselves before they had to go find the Newmans or Grojband to explain their absences. Laney had felt the other girl’s breasts, but Carrie’s shirt had stayed on. The furthest they’d gone was the very memorable party when Laney had wound up dominating the beer pong table, defeating even Carrie and Lenny with Kon, and Laney had been dragged into a bathroom by Carrie and the taller girl had grinded on Laney’s thigh until a freshman had interrupted by knocking.

Carrie’s hands didn’t force Laney to look down, but she did push Laney’s hair back and out of her face. Then she slid her hands into the short hair at the back of Laney’s head, scratching at her scalp as she went and Laney’s brain helpfully flashed a giant warning sign.

She was mostly sure that friends didn’t behave like this.

Her thoughts were a whir of conflicting ideas. ‘Get out of here’ being one of the more prominent thoughts, but ‘don’t out Lenny’ and ‘Carrie is shirtless in my lap’ were getting a lot of bandwidth in her brain, too.

In all her wisdom, instead of gently rejecting Carrie, or finding some way to not be in the situation anymore, Laney’s brain chose to settle on, “The thing with my cousin-”

Because she had meant, ‘let’s circle back and talk about you thinking Laney is hot’, but she also meant, ‘my cousin is me, I’m Laney’, and maybe she meant a little, ‘you make out with Laney at parties, and now you’re in Lenny’s lap, shirtless’ and maybe that one hurts more than anything else, because Laney and Carrie weren’t anything, but they’re also not nothing. Laney didn’t go around making out with just anyone at parties. Truthfully, she hadn’t gone on a date, or kissed anyone who wasn’t Carrie since they’d started, and it stung that the other girl didn’t see what they had the same way.

“You don't have to worry about me and your cousin,” Carrie interrupted, “It's not like that between us, Penn.”

And Carrie was pulling Laney towards her, leaning in for a kiss, and Laney was still flipping drastically between all of her thoughts, and then the words registered in her brain.

Penn.

Not Nepp.

Her own hand snaked into Carrie’s much longer hair, scratching gently at her scalp and then tugging Carrie’s head back before their lips could touch so Laney could nip lightly at Carrie’s pulse point.

“Yeah?” she questioned, beginning to suck at the other girl’s neck.

“Unlike you Grojnerds,” Carrie’s breath hitched when Laney bit her, “I- I’m not dumb. I knew as soon as you came downstairs.”

Laney pulled away from Carrie, her hands falling back to the taller girl’s waist. She thought back to every collision, Carrie holding her face at the start of practice, the way she had flushed when Konnie had revealed Carrie thought she was hot. The way Carrie had, even if she was just teasing, tried to get Laney out of her shirt.

On the brightside, Carrie (presumably) did not behave like that with Lenny, and was only doing so because she knew it was Laney. On the downside, Carrie made Laney run through Lenny’s bass parts several times, for no other reason than making Laney suffer since she knew that the redhead’s errors would have been a result of her lack of practice.

Carrie finding out the truth halfway through the practice or because of a slip was much different than her knowing from the start and teasing Laney through the entire practice.

“How?” Laney asked.

“Lenny basically never calls me ‘Carrie’ and we’ve spent enough time together that I know you two have different eye colours. Why do you think I had Konnie dim the lights?” which just brought Laney back to Carrie holding her and staring into her eyes, now with the added tint of knowing Carrie wasn’t doing it because of a migraine, but Laney couldn’t understand why Carrie had looked at her so intensely, “That, and Len definitely never stares at my boobs.”

A sentence that resulted in Laney’s face flushing and the reminder that Carrie had taken her shirt off and was sitting in Laney’s lap. 

There was a part of Laney’s brain that had rerouted all blood to the lower half of her body and wanted to get right back to sucking on Carrie’s neck without any further questions. The logical part of her brain couldn’t figure out what she was missing. This wasn’t like the parties, where darkness and intoxication covered their actions and they could go their separate ways like nothing had happened. This was the two of them in Carrie’s bedroom, completely sober. Laney couldn’t figure out the game, the joke that was surely around the corner, because she and Carrie didn’t bring their meetings to their homes, and they certainly didn’t acknowledge it while sober.

To distract herself from continuing to explore the pale skin waiting temptingly in front of her, Laney chose to ask another question, “Why let me stick around for practice if you knew I wasn’t Lenny?”

“Dude, we have a gig tomorrow, I wasn’t about to distract Kim and Konnie with whatever weird shit you and Lenny decided to do. He wouldn’t go along with one of Riffin’s dumbass plans if it meant hurting the band, and you wouldn’t go along with a plan that hurt Lenny. I figured one of you would tell me what was going on later,” Carrie shifted above Laney in impatience, “Are we done talking about it now?”

“Why did you spend so long teasing me? From the practice to,” Laney paused, fingers flexing from their position against Carrie’s waist, “to now, what was the point?”

“There’s a hot girl on your lap and you want to ask questions?”

“Yes?”

Carrie rolled her eyes, “You think a lot more sober, you know that? It’s annoying.” She huffed, her breath puffing against Laney’s lips as Carrie raised a hand to count off on her fingers, “It was funny. You crashed our practice, and thus, deserved it. And teasing you is like, my third favourite thing, considering what usually happens when I tease you. That, and, come on, Penny Lane, you’re hot when you play bass.”

What usually happened when Carrie teased her was their secret rendezvous at parties. Which meant, if Laney was understanding the other girl correctly, that this, being shirtless in Laney’s lap had been Carrie’s end goal all along. Which would mean that Carrie wanted this, perhaps not as much as Laney, but at least enough to bring Laney up to her room.

But that was a lot for Laney’s mind to read into in her opinion. 

“What do you-”

Carrie, either finally out of patience for Laney’s questions, or looking for another way to shut her up (or both), used the hand she had raised to count off her reasons to snatch Laney’s wrist and pull the redhead’s hand back up to her hair while using her other hand to pull Laney in by the back of her neck. Carrie’s lips were hungry against Laney’s, and despite her mind still whirling with a million questions, Laney, like always, eagerly met Carrie.

By that point, the feeling of Carrie’s lips against her own was familiar, but Laney was still astounded each and every time it happened. There was always something new to learn, always something more for Laney to feel between them. What she discovered then was that Carrie was more forceful when sober. That, or she had wanted to kiss Laney as bad as Laney usually wanted to kiss her, and she wasn’t going to waste anymore time with gentle kisses when she could pull herself closer to Laney and immediately tilt her head to deepen their kiss.

With all the familiarity that their meetings had afforded them, Carrie scratched at the base of Laney’s skull, hard enough that Laney felt the tingle lance through her body down to her toes. It’s a hard reset for Laney’s brain, and where she had been eager to follow Carrie’s lead before, she knew they both preferred when Laney took charge. Which was just what she did.

The other girl was much larger than Laney, and she’s sat on Laney’s lap, meaning she had to crane her neck up to meet Carrie in a kiss. It’s fine for a quick moment, but not for much longer, and in a feat of strength that either came from all the times Corey had stuck Laney with the responsibility of moving their equipment, or that came from her little gay soul being blown away at the thought of kissing Carrie in an actual bed for once, Laney managed to lift the other girl and stumble forwards to Carrie’s bed.

Carrie landed with an ‘oof’, and Laney fell after her, just barely managing to catch herself so Carrie didn’t get an elbow to the stomach. They’re apart for a second, barely any longer than that, and Carrie was chasing Laney by lifting herself up to her lips. One of Carrie’s hands was quick to return to the back of Laney’s neck, her fingers playing with the newly short hair like it was her new favourite hobby. Her other hand had found its way under Laney’s sweatshirt, her hand fisting the material of the shirt beneath, her hand just brushing the edge of the binder through the material and keeping Laney as close to her as physically possible.

It was a very stark reminder of two things. One, that she was still fully clothed and still wearing a binder in the first place. And, two, that she had Carrie freaking Beff beneath her, shirtless and eager to continue their makeout.

It was a dream come true.

But also, without the haze of alcohol and the excuse of a party, Laney found that she couldn’t force her brain to shut off completely and ignore the consequences as she had every other time.

Laney pulled back, though not farther than a few inches, because she really did need this final clarification, “So-”

Carrie groaned, her head dropping back against the bed as she closed her eyes.

“Jesus Christ.”

“I just want to make sure this is what you want!”

“Dude,” Carrie complained, “I took my shirt off for a reason. I want you, Penn, do you not want me?”

Laney nodded, perhaps too aggressively, but certainly enough to get her opinion across, “I do, I very much do.”

“Then shut up and get back here.”

And finally, Laney’s brain shut off the endless list of questions she had in her mind. They met again with an urgency she had held herself back from feeling, their movement too aggressive and resulting in the painful click of their teeth. Carrie wouldn’t tolerate another interruption, so Laney simply adjusted her position, tilting her head and letting her hand drift to Carrie’s face to softly stroke her cheek, an apology without words.

And then. And then. Laney let that same hand drift down. To help her brace herself, to give her something to hold, to simply touch Carrie. From the first touch of Laney’s fingers, gentle and careful and so very hesitant, Carrie inhaled sharply through her nose. So Laney let herself trace a mindless pattern against Carrie’s soft skin. She let her hand curl around the other girl’s ribs just under her bra, let her fingers slot between the ridges of bone, memorising the feeling of her hand against a body that felt practically made for her touch.

Between the kissing and her hand, Laney would have been content to die right then and there.

Even though it had been Carrie’s teasing that ultimately led them here, it was Laney once again leading their kiss. Carrie might have held Laney tighter, she might have encouraged Laney to kiss harder, to touch more, but it was Laney who set their pace. Laney who chose to bite Carrie’s lip to feel the other girl grin. Laney who chose to tease her thumb just under the band of Carrie’s bra to hear her gasp. Laney who deepened their kiss, Laney who knew the other girl was practically putty in her hands.

And, ultimately, it was Laney who pulled back when the need to breathe became overwhelming.

Carrie, breathless beneath her, tilted her head away. It wasn’t like she was trying to move away, she just needed a moment to catch her breath, and Laney could provide that. And, it meant Laney could kiss against Carrie’s neck, nipping at the length of skin Carrie had willingly displayed.

“Jesus, remind me to thank Lenny for bailing from this practice,” she said. Then, almost as if the thought had just truly registered in her brain, she asked, confusion coming clearly in her tone, “Where is Lenny, anyways?”

“Well, if he knows what’s good for him, he’s in my room where I left him before he made me come over here,” Laney mumbled against the girl’s neck.

“And why was that?”

Laney smirked and pulled back, “Now who’s asking too many questions?”

“Shut up.”