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Into the rabbit hole
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Published:
2022-02-21
Completed:
2022-02-21
Words:
1,388
Chapters:
2/2
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that fucking pink dress

Summary:

(2x07 AU) But the thing is, the fucking thing is – he’s a fucking dumbass, because all the thoughtful feedback, all those complicated words and ideas he’d built up in his head crumble like a house of cards when Lexi Howard struts out on the stage in that fucking pink dress, dolled up to the nines. 

Notes:

this is definitely the most self-indulgent thing ever and yes, i wrote this in 40 minutes, this episode is my cocaine

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

It’s not that he’s not impressed.

He’s fucking bowled over.

Lexi surpassed herself. The writing, the choreography, the sets, the lighting, the careful orchestration of these gut-punching moments about being young and hurting, razor-sharp and heartfelt at the same time – all of this takes mad fucking talent.

And he’s ready to tell her after the curtain falls that she’s the most brilliant person he’s ever met. He wants to talk to her about specific parts, parts about her childhood, about her father, wants to have those long discussions with her, and not just over the phone.

But the thing is, the fucking thing is – he’s a fucking dumbass, because all the thoughtful feedback, all those complicated words and ideas he’d built up in his head crumble like a house of cards when Lexi Howard struts out on the stage in that fucking pink dress, dolled up to the nines. 

See, he’d already been slightly fucked up by that prim black number at the beginning, those puffy sleeves, and the ribbon in her hair as she sat and read Rue that poem, but he managed not to get too distracted, cuz hell, it wasn't that kinda moment.

But this is different. This is done on purpose.

This is quick and merciless. Cuz he never expected it. Never thought in a million years he’d see her embrace this side of her like this.

It’s like high voltage, like sticking a fork in the socket, because you were curious as a kid, you wanted to know what it felt like.

“Hiii boys,” Lexi drawls, all sultry and playful, flipping her lush curls, showing the exposed skin of her back, “how are you doing?”

And she arches against the moving lockers like a vampy siren, sticking her delicious ass out for everyone to see. She thinks she’s doing an exaggerated performance but she’s playing it for real, she is the real thing for him.

He has to close his fucking mouth. He’s been gaping like a fish.

Her moves feel like a personal taunt, the way she rolls her hips, the way her legs sway. He knows what he’d like to do with those hooker heels she’s wearing, and he’s not proud, really not proud of himself. He's  standing against the wall in the dark because he was late and didn’t want to cause a fuss to find his seat, and instead of focusing on her brilliance he’s just eating up her ass in that tight dress. Just plain eating it up, almost got drool on his collar. He's grateful for the dark, because what would people say if they saw him?

But he can't focus on anything but her right now. 

She’s like a slutty little angel, pink and sweet and unattainable, exactly like she planned it, with that steel core underneath that makes you fall on your knees and beg for release.  

Case in point, the lockers roll away to reveal two older looking dudes, her “former classmates” who sit in their dirty yards and really wish they’d fucked Lexi Howard when they had the chance.

And Fez can appreciate the tongue-in-cheek irony, can even chuckle at it, but it hits too close to home because he doesn’t want any of those guys thinking of her like that, and he doesn’t wanna be one of those guys in the future, always wondering. He wants to know what it's like to have her. How sweet and good it would be. He feels this irrational anger, this weird bout of jealousy that he never experienced before, because he's not the possessive type, and yet, in his head, he’s already decided she’s his, and it’s a really stupid line of thinking, because of course she isn’t his, she’s her own person whom he fucking admires so much, but he can’t help wanting that fantasy. Everyone finding out that girl up there is his. Fucking dumbass. He grips the roses to his chest and doesn’t mind when the thorns dig into his palms.

Lexi gives one last salute to the audience. She mimes a sticky kiss to no one in particular - maybe a conspicuous empty seat in the third row - and she brings her hands together, puckers her lush lips, and blows.

Fezco shudders. He feels like an asshole picturing going backstage after her, following her into one of the dressing rooms, grabbing the side of her face and kissing her mouth until he wipes off all her lipstick, lifting her on a dressing table and cupping her ass and thighs in that fucking pink dress, feeling the warmth underneath, dragging her flush against him. Lavishing her with attention and love but also making sure to whisper in her ear what a fucking menace she is in that outfit. You been a real bad girl, Lex he hears himself saying like a fool, and he can hear her speak against his mouth, breathless, Yeah, the worst.

He blinks and the curtain falls. New sets are being rolled into place. There’s darkness in the theater for now. 

But she’ll come back soon, and who the fuck knows what she’ll be wearing next.

Fezco groans, leaning his head against the wall. How the fuck is he gonna get through this play?

 

Chapter 2

Summary:

Oh, she's not fucking done.

Notes:

lol, i had to write a part 2 about the mirror/bra scene because my goblin brain craves all the "fezco worshipping lexi's body during the play" moments. sorry yall if this is too much!

Chapter Text

Oh, she's not fucking done.

She actually wants to kill him for real. 

Nah, he thinks with that part of his brain that has decided she belongs to him. She needs to be told you can’t do this to a man. 

It's just not right to subject him to this torture while he's wearing this stuffy, uncomfortable suit. He’s scorching in it, tugging on his collar for relief, staring at Lexi and barely registering the words coming out of her sweet mouth because she just came out in her fucking bra and skirt on stage.

She’s standing in front of the mirror with her sister, comparing figures.

At first, Fezco is too dazed by the sight of those perfect perky tits in that tasteful black bra to notice what’s happening. But it slowly dawns on him that in this scene, Lexi is feeling bad about her chest and wishing she had her sister’s hefty bust.

Fezco frowns in mild confusion, which quickly turns into frustration. He knows what it’s like to feel insecure; hell he wasn’t sure if he could pull off this suit today, but for Lexi to doubt herself like this when she looks so fucking good, when to him she’s like a gourmet meal, creamy skin and soft curves  – it’s infuriating. He wants to put his mouth on those perfect tits and lavish them with praise and make her forget about this bullshit. He wants her fingers to caress and hold the back of his skull as he devours her breasts.  

And then he’s ashamed all over again, because he should be focusing on the emotion of the scene, on the raw truth of it. Beauty standards are fucked up. He knows. But fuck it, he can’t stop picturing himself standing behind her in front of that mirror, holding her waist, pressing warm kisses to the side of her throat. His hands come up to cup her breasts and he slides all the clothes off her as she sighs into his mouth.

That would be fucking heaven. Watching her face in the mirror as he slowly casts off all her insecurities with his tongue and teeth.

But instead he has to stand here in the dark and pine.

During their long talks about the play, she’d never once mentioned these scenes. He realizes how brave she is, how truly fucking fearless, to put herself on display like that, to expose what she believes are her imperfections. But another part of him wants to be the only guy who gets to see her undress.

Lexi lingers by the mirror, a wistful look on her face, half-acting, half-reliving the awkwardness of those earlier years.

She can’t see him in the dark, but Fezco is thinking of her and making a silent promise. He plans on showing her how perfect she is once they’re alone tonight. And he’d like to do that every night, if she’ll let him.

He just has to get through this play without succumbing to the perfect torture that is Lexi Howard in red lipstick and almost no fucking clothes on.