Work Text:
Nicole, she thinks, doesn’t want to be anywhere else in this moment.
On her seventeenth birthday— around nine months ago, Jecka had surprised Nicole with two MCR tickets in her locker (along with a bottle of percocet that she’d bought off Emily). It was the only gift she had gotten that year, because while she got free shit off of future rapist classmates who were trying to leverage their way into her bed, none of those men actually cared enough to learn her birthday, October 31st 1991, if you’re curious for whatever reason.
So, naturally, her and Jecka dropped a shit ton of esctacy she got from White Marvin behind a 7/11 in the parking lot, passed half a bottle of vodka between the two of them, and went in.
When the lights go out, will you take me with you?
And holy shit, Nicole wasn’t lying when she said molly was for the happiest drug addicts. Is this how normal people feel every day? Like, actually happy? The light seemed brighter, warmer, and the music felt like it was humming through her body, like, actually going past her ears and into her brain and heart and lungs.
And carry all this broken bone,
The vodka had lowered her inhibitions enough to the point where she was screaming along to the lyrics until her throat was raw. She can feel every single string of the guitar vibrating through her ribs like it’s trying to crack them open and let the light spill out.
Through six years down in crowded rooms,
And, not to sound like some fucking stupid sappy romance novel or anything, but the absolute best part was that she wasn’t alone. Jecka was right there beside her, all warm and golden and shiny, and her equally warm and golden and shiny hand was in Nicole’s.
And highways I call home?
“This is so fucking cool!” Jecka slung her arm around Nicole’s shoulder, slightly breathless. “Oh my god, everything is spinning!”
It's something I can't know 'til now,
Instead of just standing there like she would with Jecka, or yanking her arm away like she would with literally anyone else, Nicole pulled her in closer, uncharacteristic bright grin on her face. “Dude, I feel like I’m floating!” Jecka’s arm on her bare shoulders felt intense, almost like she was being electrocuted, but in a way that felt good.
'Til you pick me off the ground,
“Can we just stay here forever?” Jecka slurs over the music. “I don’t wanna go home.”
With a brick in hand, your lip-gloss smile,
“Yeah, fuck going home, we’ll just live in the mosh pit or whatever.” Nicole looks at Jecka, pupils swallowing her irises, as the warm yellow light envelops them both.
Your scraped-up knees, and
Nicole could live here forever. Just carve a hole in this memory and burrow into it, the loud music, the crowd of what feels like millions of sweaty Hot Topic dwelling teenagers, and Jecka, Jecka, Jecka. The way her amber eyes looked, all huge and dialated, the warmth of her skin, the sound of her voice, her fucking enthusiasm for every little thing even though she knows a grand total of like four My Chemical Romance songs.
If you stay, I would even wait all night,
“Nicole,” Jecka had been looking at Nicole this whole time, she realizes. The thought makes her even warmer than the alcohol and the esctacy combined. “You’re my best friend!”
Or until my heart explodes!
“I know!” She tried to act unaffected but this annoying, uncontrollable smile was pulling at her lips and her eyes were unimaginably soft.
How long until we find our way in the dark and out of harm?
As the emo love ballad thumped on, Nicole’s eyes kept darting back to Jecka. Jecka and her smile and her hair and her body glitter, and her dumb face that Nicole thought about with this amount of disgusting tenderness even when stone-cold sober, but when she was sober, she would just push the thoughts out of her mind, because fuck that bumper-sticker bullshit. She wasn’t in middle school anymore. But even then, Nicole didn’t have anyone like this in middle school, or really before moving to Burke at all, so why can’t she make up for lost time?
You can run away with me,
She meets Jecka’s eyes, finally, without looking away, and turns towards her, taking an awkward step towards a decision that could change her life forever, (or could just be a fun in-the-moment memory, ‘oh, hey, remember when we kissed at the My Chem concert last summer, Nicole?’) but Nicole is realizing quickly that maybe she doesn’t want it to be something that happened in the heat of the moment.
Jecka’s hands met Nicole’s waist and for a moment, Nicole almost wanted to retreat, to hide her face and run away from all these big words like vulnerability and intimacy, but Jecka was more important than Nicole’s pride or nerves or the crushing weight of the ephemerality of every single fucking human relationship she’s had past this point.
“I wanna kiss you,” Jecka confessed, matter-of-factly, and Nicole’s world was fucking tilting on it’s axis (maybe that was the vodka, but probably not,) and everything felt magnetic. Her heart felt like it was trying to beat it’s way out of her ribcage and no words would come to her lips. Nicole was probably the color of the blood rushing in her veins right now, and all she could do was nod.
Her lips met Jecka’s, and the music swelled in the background just as Nicole’s heart did. She wanted to memorize the taste of Jecka– cherry lip gloss and vodka–, the feeling of her hands, the sound of the music, and the feeling of being actually, really loved by the only person in the world who mattered.
Anytime you want.
