Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

How did she let Veronica convince her?

This is even worse than she thought.

Veronica squeezes her hand, but she's not looking at her. Veronica is smiling, no, beaming at the cameras pointed at them both as they make their way to a set of tables around which the other couples are already in place, and she looks perfectly at ease, like she was always meant to be here.

While Lupe, well, she's not exactly a stranger to the spotlight, she's a professional athlete after all, but this—this is something else entirely. She has just signed up to put her relationship to the test in front of… potentially a fuckton of people… and she has the sinking feeling that she will regret it.

Hell, she's already doing it.

But let's rewind a sec. Lupe loves three things the most—baseball, the feeling of a woman's thighs around her head, and goddamn peace. She's come to a point in her life where she can say that she has achieved all three of them consistently. She's the pitcher for the NY women's baseball team, she's been with the same girl for the past three years and things are going well (or so she thought before she was blindsided with—but more on that later), plus she has an awesome friend group, a passable remote relationship with her family way back home, a nice apartment, good work-life balance… Come on, everything was going great!

And then Veronica, her girlfriend with always too much of a penchant for the theatrics, asked Lupe to marry her during a post-win celebration. In front of all of their friends. Veronica went on her knees wearing heels and showed her a rather expensive looking ring and all.

Lupe was, to put it mildly, floored.

In three years they had not, ever, talked about marriage, if not as a joke, in passing. Veronica had been very vocal about how much she considered it both a fad and a way for the government to control the population. Lupe had not cared about it at all either, after having grown up attending many cousins’ very traditional weddings. The image of her mother performatively dabbing a tissue under her eyes as the couple said Sí is one of the most vivid memories Lupe has of them.

So who can blame her for blanking out? For not responding? For getting angry? 

Apparently, many people.

Veronica most of all.

The evening ended up with a screaming match that carried on from the club all the way to their place. Not that it was something that uncommon for them, but that's just the way life is. Couples fight, who say the contrary is either lying or hasn't had a very serious relationship. Lupe likes her relationships to be passionate anyway, to have fire and spice, and that is what she and Veronica have found in each other all these years.

The fights have an upside to them too, namely amazing make-up sex. That night was no exception, and soon a post-coital Veronica was crying and apologizing for putting her on the spot like that. Of course Lupe could take her time, they could talk more about it, it wasn't anything urgent. I just love you so much, baby, I want you to be mine forever. Lupe had shown her appreciation by going down on her again.

So that was it. Lupe was sure that was it, it may have been a rollercoaster—and embarrassing—of a night, but a pin had been put on the question of marriage until further notice, and everything went back to normal.

Until the Ultimatum.

Capital letter.

A reality show, for Christ's sake.

One where, like, five couples in which one person wants to get married and the other doesn't have to try acting out a marriage with a person from another couple for three weeks and then with their own original partner for another three weeks, and at the end decide who they're going to be with.

A fucking travesty, basically, all for the sake of drama. Lupe is not a fan of this kind of thing.

The only reason she agreed to it?

It was an ambush, really. Not just on her.

Lupe and her best friend—her ride-or-die, her teammate—Jess were just chilling in Lupe's living room, watching an old game, when Veronica and Emma, Jess's girlfriend, entered the room looking suspicious. Like hands-in-cookie-jar suspicious.They told them somebody had contacted them both. A producer for a reality show, and since, you know, Veronica had proposed to Lupe, while Jess had proposed to Emma, and Emma was the one uncertain about going for it… why not use this show as the time they all needed to figure out if marriage is what they really want?

Lupe had first, slack-jawed, looked at the two of them, then at Jess, “That sounds like a fucking nightmare.”

Jess had nodded. But, Lupe could tell, the gears were turning in their head, “There might be free snacks, though.”

Lupe had snorted.

From time to time, Lupe can't really understand Jess's motivations. Often she does, it's inevitable after almost seven years of being in each other's corner, but then Jess would throw a curveball, and they're not even a pitcher. Like, proposing to Emma, they hadn't mentioned it to Lupe beforehand. Lupe thought they told each other everything. She had vented more than enough to Jess after her own proposal disaster.

And like, agreeing to be on this reality show without too much qualms about it. Actually, Jess wanted to give their girlfriend an ultimatum.

Which means Lupe had to bow her head and receive hers from Veronica.

Because she goes wherever Jess does.

Chapter Text

“Which of you gave the ultimatum?”

Veronica raises her hand, while Lupe takes a mental note of all their… prospect spouses.

There's a couple of black women, one of which is more butch than the other and is the one with her hand raised. Her girlfriend doesn't look remotely happy to be here, and Lupe sympathizes.

There's a couple of white femmes, one of which is clearly a fake redhead who's far too tall for the other, how do they even kiss? The shorter, nerdier-looking one has her hand raised, and that seems about right.

Then there's another fatter butch with a taller femme by her side, who's the one with her hand raised. That butch would be an idiot not to marry her, because that girl looks like a movie star.

And then, of course, there's Jess and Emma. The two of them are the only blondes of the bunch, and it shouldn't be as funny to Lupe as it is. Jess has her hand raised, looking proud about it too. Fucking idiot.

The presenter is an older, classier butch that Lupe's sure she's seen somewhere, probably in some old timey show or movie where she was that one clearly gay character never made explicit. The first thing she told them all is to just call her Vi. Lupe is certain she'll get a kick out of directing the lesbian mess that will, without a shadow of a doubt, ensue in the next seven weeks.

Vi focuses on Veronica first, “Can you tell us a bit about why you chose to give your partner an ultimatum, sweetheart?”

Veronica smiles, all dimples, and her blush looks actually real. Vi needs to be ten times less charming, first of all. “Oh, yes. Lupe and I,” Veronica finally remembers that Lupe's here too, and looks at her. The setting—they're in the patio of a hotel next to a pool—and the lights really do complement her. She's goddamn beautiful, and she's Lupe's. Even on a trial marriage, she’ll stay Lupe's. Lupe finds herself smiling and wrapping an arm around Veronica's waist, which Veronica leans into eagerly, “have been together for three years, our connection is amazing, nothing I have ever experienced before,” wow, okay, that does sound nice, “and I really thought it was the right time to take it to the next level, you know? So I asked her to marry me.” She looks back at Vi, batting her fake eyelashes a bit too fast. “But Lupe said she wasn't ready for it yet, so here we are.”

That's when Vi stares at Lupe pointedly, and Lupe can feel every single eye, plus cameras, on her. Way to be put on the spot. “Yeah, well,” she clears her throat, “we hadn't discussed marriage yet, so I was taken off guard. Simple as that. I'm not entirely opposed to the idea, but I also don't feel like getting married is necessary to have a good, committed relationship, you know what I mean?”

Veronica shakes her head next to her, while Vi nods at her pensively, “I get why many youngsters feel like that nowadays. I agree that it's important to discuss it first, but,” she shows her hand where a golden band glints under the lights, “since I've been married for thirty years, and mind you it wasn't even legal for most of that time, you'll have to forgive me for preaching the significance of marriage.”

Of course this would be brought on—the fact that gay marriage wasn't even legal until not too long ago, and now everybody should jump at the first chance to do it just because they can?

Nah, Lupe won't take the guilt trip. “I guess there’s plenty of time for you all to try to change my mind, but,” Lupe shrugs, chuckling, “good luck.”

Veronica sighs heavily next to her, “You're so stubborn. I love that about you sometimes, but how can we plan our future if you're not open to expanding your mind?”

“Why do I need to expand my mind? I think marriage is outdated, so in a way I could say you're narrow minded.”

Veronica rolls her eyes at her, but she speaks to Vi, “See what I have to deal with?”

Hey, I'm right here, Lupe wants to rebut, but her voice gets swallowed by Vi's laugh and loud presenter voice spoken directly to a camera, “It's going to be a big challenge over here, I sure am curious to see if sweet Veronica, or someone else, will manage to tame stubborn Lupe. Next, Max, why did you give the ultimatum to your partner?”

Just like that, the focus shifts. Lupe's hand feels cold on Veronica's waist, while Veronica whispers in her ear, “Oh come on, baby. It's a game, lighten up,” and kisses her on the cheek.

Lighten up. Tsks.

A game should not be the determining factor for the future of their relationship. They said it won't be, that they'll play along but it won't actually affect them for real. Lupe knows Veronica mostly just cares about the clout, she has big plans for her online fashion career, and this will boost her visibility once it's out. Lupe's baseball team can use the boost too, as women's baseball still isn't remotely as popular as it deserves, so fine, if it will bring more visibility to her and Jess's team, so be it.

Still. This hits close to home. Lupe has already become stubborn Lupe, and she can only wonder how many nicknames she'll earn by the time this is over.

She can imagine a few. Spicy latina Lupe. Angry Lupe. Childish Lupe. Bitchy Lupe.

Lupe's eyes dart across the tables, and she's not surprised to see Jess looking back at her. Jess's eyebrows shoot up once, fast, which means, Are you okay?

Lupe scratches her nose. It means Meh, could be better.

It's a language they've developed both on and off the field years ago. It has served them well on many occasions, but it just might be able to shine on this one.

Jess fiddles with a button of their shirt, It's gonna be okay, hermano.

Emma links her hand with Jess's right then, and Jess gets distracted by her. Neither of their girlfriends know the signs, Emma simply wants her partner’s attention. Yet, Lupe feels a pang of annoyance, if not disappointment, as Jess leans in for a kiss, already forgetting their grumpy hermano.

Lupe came here with Jess's promise of getting each other through it, and she'll very well hold them to it.

She only half listens to the others’ drama, it’s mostly all the same story over and over. Not the right time, scared of commitment, and blah blah. Names fly by her too. She'll have every opportunity to learn it all when she has to start dating these people tomorrow, so what's the point? She'll have to watch it on TV too at some point. Watch herself. God. What has she gotten herself into?

“And what about you?”

“Yeah, I recently asked Emma to marry me.”

Lupe's eyes snap to Jess. Jess is looking rather less comfortable than before, but maybe only Lupe is able to tell.

“We've been together for three years, living together for two, and all I know is that at this point in my life I know that I want to get married. I haven't always, it’s kind of a new discovery for me.”

Jess smiles shyly, and Lupe blinks as she takes their words in. Why hasn't Jess told her about this new discovery, uh? Did they think Lupe would make fun of them for it? Well, they do rib each other all the time, but that's just how they are, so Jess should know Lupe would never mean any harm by pulling their leg a little bit. Jess being a big ol’ romantic is not news, and the fact that Jess does get shy about that more than anything else has given Lupe fuel for some of her best jokes. Still. All in good spirits, come on.

“Emma and I love each other and fit together incredibly well, we've talked about building a family together and everything. So I was kind of… surprised at her reluctance.”

All eyes are on Emma now, and Lupe revels a little bit at seeing her shift uncomfortably under the scrutiny. It may be a bit hypocritical, but this is Jess. How can Emma not say yes to Jess on the spot? She is being incredibly stupid in fumbling this bag. Jess is probably the best bag anybody could ever, well, bag.

“And what is making you so hesitant?” Vi asks Emma—in a much softer tone than she used with Lupe, figures.

Emma worries on her lip, glances at Jess and then, for some reason, at Lupe's and Veronica's table. She might be looking for reassurance here too, as she and Veronica have become quite good friends. But her eyes mistakenly catch Lupe's instead, and Lupe raises her eyebrows at her. Like, come on, Emma. Lupe suddenly realizes that she will have the chance to ‘date’ Emma and give her a stern talking to. As Jess's brother and all.

Emma breaks the contact, not before Lupe sees a flash of anger there. No, she must be imagining it. Emma’s expression is hardened, though, as she starts speaking, “There's nothing in the world I would want more than to marry Jess. But like you’ve said, marriage is an important step, and I don't want us to rush into it. Jess has a big heart, and I feel incredibly grateful for having had the privilege of being loved by them.” Now that's more like it. “But,” but what? “I can't help but think that it may be just luck that Jess ended up in my arms, and if they were given the chance, they might direct that love at someone else just as easily.”

Lupe sees the moment when hurt fills Jess's eyes—it’s impossible not to, her eyes are so damn crystal blue. Lupe feels her own mouth hanging open a second too long, it's also impossible for her not too. That’s the biggest insult Emma could ever give Jess, of being, what, fickle? Flighty? Jess is so the opposite of that. So the opposite.

Emma will sure hear it from this spicy latina now.

“Do you agree with that statement, Jess?” Vi asks, and Lupe would've been ready to pounce on her too if she heard any mocking in her tone. But Vi is actually being appropriately somber about this.

Jess shakes their head to focus back on Vi. They're so much tenser now, and Emma too. “No, I do not. It—it saddens me that Emma feels this way. I just—that's why I think that this process may help her finally put her doubts to rest.”

“Or confirm them,” Emma says, and shit, that is just cruel.

Jess bites her lips, “Or is it just you who isn’t sure about me, uh?”

Emma doesn't answer, and the silence lasts for a horrible moment in which neither of them looks at each other.

Until Jess nods firmly, “Then I guess we’ll both see.”

Lupe has to blink rapidly again. She didn't know… she hadn't noticed that this kind of tension existed in Jess’s relationship. She thought everything was fine with them. Lupe turns to Veronica to share a dumbfounded look with her, but Veronica is staring fixedly at them and her expression has hardened too. Of course, she may know more. Emma must've confided in her. Which spurs the question again, why hasn't Jess confided in her? Instead of leaving her in the dark, looking probably stupid-shocked on camera.

It's on her, really. Jess was too cryptically serious about coming on this show. Maybe their relationship is on the line after all.

Well, Lupe knows what to do now. Yeah, yeah, she’ll play along, let Veronica have her fun. But her real mission is going to be making sure that Jess gets to marry the love of their life.

Be it known that she takes her role as Jess's best man seriously.

Tonight is the last night she's “with” Veronica. From tomorrow they'll be “exes” and will start to mingle with the others and date them until they'll have to choose one to be their trial wife. Who came up with this format? That person has issues.

“To us,” Veronica raises her glass and smiles, all too pleased with herself.

Lupe shakes her head. Her ambition is admirable, really. It's one of the aspects they have in common. “To us.”

They clink glasses, and keep smiling at each other as they drink. The cameras surround them, and hopefully it’ll stop feeling weird at some point. How can anybody think this can ever be truly authentic with half a dozen people staring at them as they try to have a fucking romantic dinner?

Lupe is aware of every twitch in her own body. As smoothly as she can, she reaches her hand across the table to take Veronica's and kiss it—because she wants to, but it will probably look good. “Are you nervous about tomorrow?”

“Nah,” Veronica shrugs, then grins, “a little. Aren't you? We both haven't dated in a while.”

“True.” As if this will be real dating. “I’m not nervous, though.” Lupe slides her tongue on her front teeth. “I’m a pretty good flirt.”

Veronica's laugh is perfectly musical. “Oh, I know you are.” Veronica's foot touches her leg under the table, sliding up her calf. Lupe sure hopes the camera doesn't catch that.

Or why not. Let the viewers at home dream a little. They are a hot couple, what can she say? 

As Veronica's foot keeps moving up and down, her face gets more serious, “But this won't be just normal dating. You'll be looking for a prospective wife. What if one of them does make you change your mind about marriage?”

Lupe shrugs, leaving Veronica's hand and taking another sip of her beer, “That’s the point of the game, isn’t it? Bring it on. You know I’m not easily swayed, though.”

“I know.” Is there a hint of annoyance in her voice now? “But baby, if you refuse to actually play the game, we’ll get nowhere. I want us to think seriously about marriage and getting married. I want to marry you at the end of this.”

Lupe blinks. She’s being hit with surprises from all sides today. Is Veronica being actually serious? Her foot is still on her leg, but has stopped moving. Veronica's eyes are staring fixedly at her, waiting for her response.

Lupe glances around at the cameras, meeting some people's eyes. She can’t help it. They can cut it later. She needs to take a moment or she'll say some unkind things. Veronica said this wouldn’t matter, they’d talk seriously about it after the show. So why is she saying this now? Is it just for the cameras? If it is, it’s still a low blow.

Lupe manages to compose herself enough, “And I said I will think about it, didn’t I? I’ll try. That’s all I can say for now.”

And Veronica's eyes, as they look to the side, become rather damp. Fucking great. Nothing like fake crying, but Lupe still has to act accordingly or she'll be painted as the asshole.

“Baby,” Lupe says, reaching out for her hand again.

Veronica lets her take it, as she dabs a tissue under her eye with the other one. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to cry.” Right. “I just—I love you so much, baby. I need to know that you choose me. That you’d never leave me.”

The line between reality and acting is already blurring, but in doubt—in case Veronica is being for real—Lupe fights for their relationship, “I have chosen you. I choose you every damn day. I love you too, and I could never leave you, baby.”

“But how can I be sure?!”

More tears keep streaming down Veronica's cheeks, and this is looking more and more like their usual fights. Veronica may be a good liar, but not this good. Shit. Lupe stands up and walks around the table to sit next to her and take her into her arms. Soon Veronica is sobbing into her neck, and Lupe tries to hide her own face into her hair. She's not sure if she looks appropriately worried, so better safe than sorry. She does feel worried, though.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Lupe murmurs into her hair, stroking her back soothingly, “you can be sure because I love you, damnit. What does a piece of paper do? We could always divorce anyway.”

That does not, maybe predictably, help. Veronica's sobs get even louder. Shit, shit. She's not good at this, alright? Who can be certain of anything after all? The rates of breakups and divorce speak for themselves. Lupe has had her fair share of failed relationships through the years, some that she had thought, in her stupid naivety, would last forever. But forever can end up lasting very little.

What is she expected to do? Let’s say that she was open to the idea of marriage, how could a trial marriage with a stranger help her understand what it truly means? Such a preposterous premise can only ever be for show, so if Veronica is betting their relationship on this, well, then they’re doomed to fail. To break up sooner rather than later.

And listen, Lupe doesn't want that. She likes her life with Veronica as it is and doesn’t intend to lose it, so, next to her mission as best man to fulfill Jess's dreams, she may have to ensure her own by convincing Veronica that marriage is not what she truly wants.

If it's reassurance she wants, Lupe is ready to give it to her in other ways. Like, not caring about any of these prospective wives. Which she's not, from what she’s seen today around those tables. If Lupe is one thing, she’s loyal. Veronica may be doubtful of that because of her reputation as, you know, a little bit of a fuckboy—which is based on truth, admittedly. But those days are behind her now. Truly. Lupe just wants to keep her fucking peace.

Another way to reassure her is something that never fails. Lupe is self-conscious of the cameras at first as she takes Veronica to bed, but Veronica's emotional self soon takes all her attention, and the cameras thankfully leave anyway after getting enough spicy foreplay footage.

That’s when the real show begins. Sex with Veronica has always been the best she's ever had from the very start, that's how what was meant to be a casual hookup turned into a three-year relationship—also the longest she's ever had.

It's like in sex they're able to lay down all of their walls, forget any filter, just let themselves go, feel each other, communicate everything they're not able to say in words.

This is what matters most, isn’t it? Words can be deceptious, empty, wrong, but bodies just are. Veronica, under all her layers of designer clothes and confidence, is soft and vulnerable when she's naked into Lupe's arms, and Lupe can’t fault her for her everyday fears. The world can be a confusing, scary, unjust place, Lupe's learned that much from a very young age.

That’s why she’ll never tire of reassuring Veronica's tender heart as many times as it takes. Even by coming here on this stupid show. And especially by making her come a couple of times more after she's stopped crying. Those are for fun.

The other good part is that Veronica doesn't shy away from giving back, which in Lupe's experience is not a given. The night ends with Lupe lying down, finally able to just close her eyes and lean back as Veronica eats her out with soft, skilled lips. With a hand tangled in Veronica's hair, Lupe cries out as she comes, loose and free.

The one regret she has is that she’ll have to be celibate for the next month. They've said that they're allowed to kiss their trial wife, but not fuck. But since Lupe has to prove her undying love to Veronica, she won't be doing any kissing either. Fuck.

Oh well. “One more, baby. Yeah, just like that. What a good girl you are.”

The next day Veronica moves to another hotel room somewhere and Lupe is left alone with her thoughts. Still half naked. That’s when the best reflection can happen.

She knew it, she wasn't that naive, that no matter all of their intentions in coming here, it’s going to get messier than what they thought. Put ten lesbians desperate for love in a room together, what else can they expect?

Lupe sighs. She grabs her phone to send the text that's been bubbling under the surface since yesterday, Were you ever gonna tell me that you've been having problems with Emma??

‘course, the answer doesn't take long to arrive, probably. maybe.

McCready. I am offended.

I know, I know. But it's just been happening recently and I still don't understand why. I asked her to marry me, for fuck's sake! What more does she want??

On that note, you didn't tell me about that either.

The answer does take longer now. Lupe stares at the three dots for a few moments too long, a mixture of frustration and worry taking hold of her. This isn't like Jess.

I'm sorry, hermano. I just… needed to get it over with before telling anybody.

Even me? But Lupe doesn't send that. It sounds too petulant. Them being best friends doesn't mean they have to tell each other everything everything. Right? They're not ten years old. They're adults with adult-complex lives. Get over it already, García. 

It's okay, I get it. Lupe bites her lips. Whenever you wanna talk you know i'm here, right?

I know Lu. I will, I promise. A beat. I don’t need to ask you since when you're having problems with Veronica, because the answer is for fucking ever!

Jess!

What? You know it’s true!

No it's not. Shut up. 

The three dots appear again as Jess is probably writing a long rebuttal to that. Nothing Lupe hasn't heard already.  

I really don't wanna hear it, McCready. Let's just agree to disagree.

Coward.

Lupe sends her the tongue sticking out emoji. Just because their ideas of a good relationship are different, doesn’t mean that Jess's is more right than hers.

Fine, see you later then, Jess replies instead. When we're going to be on a date!

Lupe snorts into her phone. Right. We should probably say that we know each other already, I wouldn't be able to keep up with the lie. I know you'll try to make me laugh stupidly.

Duh. I’d laugh immediately too if I had to pretend to be dating you for real.

Hey! I’m a great date.

Another beat. Of course you are.

Lupe leans away from the phone for a moment, a pleased smile on her face. She’d spend hours texting with Jess if she doesn’t stop it right now. But knowing that they will be having each other’s backs through this whole mess puts her worries aside. Fuck it. Let's have fun with it.

And you can finally find someone better than miss Biter!

What a fucking asshole. Lupe rolls her eyes to the ceiling and sends a final flipping the bird emoji. Oh, and You wish you could bite me like she does, which earns her a fanning emoji.

Lupe laughs alone in her room, half naked, and all the more ready to meet this bunch of queers.

Well, technically they've already met yesterday as they all toasted to the start of the adventure, but Lupe has to try and remember names this time, or it will get awkward.

Thankfully, she doesn't have the burden of choice yet, as when Lupe arrives to the same pool as yesterday—that in the daylight looks a whole lot different, bright and fun and summer-y—she’s taken to the side for one of those side-interviews she's already fed up with. Not only does she have to live the experience, she has to explain it as it goes along?

“How are you feeling as newly single, Lupe?”

Lupe sighs internally, but externally she flashes her best smile. She’s wearing shorts, a tank top, her usual gold chain around her neck and an open button down, she’s slicked her hair back, and she hopes the viewers will appreciate her effort to make them thirst after her. If she has anything that will earn her less hostility and harsh comments, it’s this. She knows what lesbians want.

“Still hesitant about this whole thing, I have to say,” some half-truths may win her some points too, “but I’ve signed up for it, haven't I? I look forward to getting to know these people, they seem nice and cool. I don't know if I'll connect with anyone, I’m kind of a tough nut to crack, as you’ve seen. Wait, can I swear?” She asks this to the guy interviewing her, and he nods. Lupe grins. “But fuck it, if anybody can sell marriage to me, then bring it on. One thing I know is that I want to leave this with my girlfriend, so I hope we can both learn everything we need from the experience to become a more secure couple, and healthier, I guess.”

Yeah, that sounded smart. It makes sense. It isn’t untrue.

“Thank you, Lupe. That’s enough.”

She gives the crew a thumbs up, and some of them smile. She may learn their names too, as she'll be spending more time with them than many of her fellow cast members.

Then she’s herded towards the first person she's got to date. Oh no. It's that movie star-looking one. The one actually gorgeous, and who wouldn’t be attracted to her?

“Hi.” She has a sweet smile too.

“Hi.” Lupe smiles back, hopefully not too dorkily, and they both shuffle closer for a half hug that turns into cheek kisses. Okay. She has a nice smell too.

This may be more dangerous than she thought. As they both sit down at a round table by the pool with their drinks, Lupe becomes starkly aware that if this was a normal date, she’d seriously put effort into it. So maybe… she should? That’s the point, isn’t it? She can easily picture this woman by her side, and judging from her previous partner, she’s into butches.

“I’m Flo, short for Florida, but just call me Flo,” she says, and God, that's such a ridiculous name, but also strangely cute?

“I’m Lupe, but I won't tell you what it’s short for, my mother can take that to her grave.”

Flo's laugh is not as musical as Veronica's, there’s a little snort in there, but that only makes it more charming. Keep it cool, García. “But I know how to keep secrets, I promise. I’d take it to my grave too.”

Oh, she’s good. With a hand on her heart, her eyes big and doe-like like in a classic movie, Lupe can't not make her move. She does a gesture of come hither with her fingers, and when they both lean close to each other, she whispers, “Guadalupe,” into her ear.

“Oh,” Flo looks at her with a hand covering her smile, “yeah, that is sure something.”

Lupe points a finger at her, “Your grave, you promised.”

She makes the sign of the cross in front of her, “My word.”

As their eyes meet, they both burst out laughing.

“Way to begin,” Flo says.

Lupe nods, taking a sip of her beer, “With a bang.”

They laugh again.

Fuck. This is too fun. Veronica wants her to get ready for marriage? This might just remind her how good it feels to date. The thrill of a new flirt. Everything still fresh. Unexplored. Full of possibilities.

Well, if Lupe chooses Flo and a few kisses happen here and there as they sleep in the same bed, Veronica cannot complain. She brought her here, and Lupe is sure she's going to do the same anyway, if not worse. Maybe with Flo's very ex-partner.

“So how come your girlfriend doesn't want to marry you, uh?" Lupe asks. "Who wouldn’t want to marry you?”

Flo raises her eyebrows, “Well, you may be able to explain it to me. Why don't you want to marry your super gorgeous girlfriend?”

Straight to the chase, uh? Way to begin, indeed. Lupe huffs, and looks around at the other dates going on around her for the first time. She catches Veronica easily, she’s chatting with the black woman who had been given the ultimatum. Lupe doubts that is going anywhere. While Flo's ex is chatting close-by with… Emma, actually. They are both smiling, looking right into each other’s eyes. Now that could be something. Fuck.

Before she focuses back on Flo to try and give a decent enough answer, she has to look for Jess, but they're not on this side. Lupe turns her head and sees them having a drink by the bar with the black woman who had given the ultimatum, the butch one. Wonder what they're saying. Or if Jess has noticed what Emma is doing.

Right, focus.

“What can I tell you? I can't speak for your partner, but in my relationship it was never a thing either of us had put forward as a wish for the future. So forgive me for being a bit skeptical if she's suddenly so hardcore about it now.”

Flo hums in understanding. “We spoke about it at length, instead. From very early on. But Jo,” okay, Jo, “is kind of having a bit of a moment in her life, she wants to change a job she hates and doesn’t know what to do yet. So she says it's not the right time.”

“Well, it makes sense then.”

Flo doesn't look convinced.

“What?” Lupe raises her eyebrows at her, her eyes flicking back to Jo for a moment, still caught up in Emma. “Do you think she's lying? She just doesn't want to marry you?”

Flo looks at Jo wistfully too, before turning back to Lupe, “No. I don't know. It's just that there's always something that doesn’t make it the ‘right time’. Last year she said she wanted to save more money first. The one before she broke her leg and didn't want to hear about it at all.”

“Well, shit.” She doesn’t know what else to say. An awkward silence ensues.

Flo seems to shake herself off, “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to put this on you. This is about us now, not my… ex.”

Lupe won't admit it, but this has dampened her mood for sure. It's not that Flo is any less charming, but she's for real real about marriage. This isn't aimless dating just for fun. They need to be marriage material, and if she's feeling so frustrated about Jo, she wouldn't be any less with Lupe.

“No, don't worry about it,” she still tries to reassure her, “of course we've gotta talk about the real reason we're here.”

Flo takes a long sip of her cocktail and nods. Then leans forward with a smile back on her lips, “But please, tell me something about you. I heard you're an athlete, right?”

That’s more Lupe's territory. The rest of the date passes more quickly as they chat about their lives, but the initial spark is definitely gone. All Lupe can think about is how many times she'll have to justify herself, or listen to someone moping about marriage. And, of course, she worries about Jess.

She parts from Flo with a hug. Flo still smells damn good, but Lupe would be lying if she didn't admit to sighing in relief as she walks away from her.

The next free person she ends up sitting on a couch with is the very same one Veronica was chatting with.

“Hi, mind if I smoke?” is the first thing she says, and now that is someone after Lupe's heart.

“Please, I'm dying for one too.”

They both spend the first few moments lighting their respective cigarettes, then they turn towards each other with a much more welcoming smile.

“I’m Esther, nice to meet you,” Esther says, taking a drag of her cigarette.

Lupe ashes hers. “Lupe. Likewise.”

They both take a drag at the same time, and that sends them both laughing.

“It has been a morning already, hasn't it?” Esther says.

“You can fucking say it.” Maybe it's not all bad, if she remembers she’s not just dating ultimatum-givers. Esther was the one not looking very thrilled yesterday. “So what's your story?”

Esther huffs, “I love Max,” name noted, “don't get me wrong. But she's so… bright-eyed. So optimistic. And I love her for it, I really do. Brought a lot of sunshine into my life. But I just need more time, you know? To understand what I want. Or what forever means to me.”

Lupe hums. Fucking finally, someone with sense. “I couldn’t agree more.”

Esther grins at her, “I already spoke to your girl, she’s sure spunky.”

“So would you marry her?”

Esther snorts, “No offense, but I'll leave you the honor.”

“Thanks.”

They laugh again.

“So what are we doing here, uh?” Lupe asks. Here she is already reflecting too much on the same fucking topic.

Esther doesn't answer immediately. “I know I may like to feel it, you know? That certainty, that desire to get married to one person and know it’s right, it’s gonna work out.”

Lupe feels her own face twist in a frown, “But why does marriage have to tell us that? It’s a contract, no matter how romanticized it’s been. It can end anyway, there’s no way to really know if it's gonna work out forever.”

“Yes, I know, I get you,” Esther says, “but maybe going through the process of getting married does make it feel more important? Technically, if you sign up you're serious about it. It can end, but with a whole lot of legal hassle.”

“Yeah, that's why I don't ever want to do that if there's no real certainty I won't have to go through that hassle.”

Esther, for some reason, snorts, “Damn you, Lupe. Everybody has been trying to sell me the marriage song and I was almost ready to buy it. Then you come telling me exactly what I already thought.”

Lupe shrugs, smirking with no small hint of pride, “Hey, you can always come to me for a reality check.”

“Maybe we should choose each other, so we can get through this without losing our heads.”

Esther is clearly joking, so Lupe puts a hand under her chin to pretend thinking about it, “Mhm, nah. We are too similar, I feel like we would clash in so many other ways that we may kill each other by the end.”

Esther leans back on the couch and laughs again, “True, true. But thank you, Lupe. I will come to you when I need that check.”

Lupe stubs out her cigarette and leans closer conspiratorially, “Tell me, anybody caught your eye that may make you lose your head?”

“Nosey,” Esther bites back. But she does lean closer too, and points in a direction. Lupe follows it and she's not surprised by who she sees. Someone with a very familiar braid. “That blonde's the one who almost sold marriage to me.”

“Hm, I can see it.” Interesting. She could tell Jess that Esther has a crush on them, but since Jess does want marriage, Lupe will sadly have to shut this down. “So better stay away from them, uh? They sounded serious about it yesterday.”

Esther sighs, “Yeah. Maybe you're right.” Esther stubs her cigarette too, and gets up just as quickly, “So nice chat. Good luck to us both.”

“Damn, yeah.”

The length of a cigarette is a perfect amount of time for these dates. Too bad it probably won't happen again.

She doesn’t care that it's only been two so far, she needs to talk to Jess now.

Lupe beelines their way as casually as she can, and the cameras follow her without any objection.

“Hey there,” Lupe says.

Jess catches her eye and grins. She points at the bar, “I was just gonna get a new beer, you want one?”

“Hell yes.”

“Sit down then, I'm gonna be right there.”

“What a gentleman.”

Jess snorts, shaking their head as they go. Lupe can’t help but pull Jess's leg, especially as they're already making a good impression among these women. Many hearts will be broken when this is over.

Lupe sits down and crosses her hands behind her head. She won't pretend she isn’t leaning into the thrill of it all too. Let them watch.

Jess brings her, of course, her favorite beer, and sits down opposite from her.

They stare at each other for a long moment as they take their first sip, barely suppressing laughter. Then Lupe looks at the camera closer to her, “I think this is the moment when we say we already know each other?”

The camerawoman shrugs. Lupe hopes it means go ahead, because she is doing it. The producers already know about it, so it shouldn't be a problem.

“Oh yes, we know each other already,” Jess jumps in, their grin widening. 

“Can you tell us more?”

“We've been friends, what, for six, seven years now?” Lupe says.

“Definitely seven. We play on the same baseball team. And I thought I was your best friend,” Jess clutches their chest dramatically.

Lupe rolls her eyes at them. "Sadly, you're right.”

“Sadly, uh?” Jess kicks her under the table.

“Ow. See?” Lupe looks at the camera while pointing at Jess. “Jess may appear charming, but they're just some hick from Canada.”

Jess rolls their eyes, “And you're just a yee-haw cowboy from Mexico. With a bad temper.”

“ I have a bad temper? Hello, pot.”

Jess simply sips their beer.

Idiot. “Anyway, how is dating going?”

Jess opens up in a smile that's closer to a grimace, “Okay? I mean, I’ve had some interesting conversations so far.”

“Yeah, same.”

Jess eyes her knowingly, “How much are you hating all the marriage talk?”

“On a scale of ten?”

“Mhm.”

“Infinite.”

Jess chuckles, “Come on, it’s not that bad, Lu.”

“Speak for yourself. Actually, can we be serious for a second? Can you tell me what's going on with Emma?”

Jess shifts in her seat. They both glance at the cameras, and Lupe remembers they're there in the first place. She would prefer to have this conversation privately, but Jess didn't give her the chance. “I mean, you don’t have to.”

“No, it’s fine.” Jess nods at the cameras. “Everybody will know all about our problems anyway.”

For real. They will see it all in HD.

“It’s—it’s just what she said yesterday, basically," Jess goes on. "She won't tell me exactly why she thinks that, but she doesn't trust that I really feel she's the one for me.”

Lupe makes a face, “What the fuck?”

Jess mirrors her, “Yeah, right?”

“You asked her to marry you.”

“I know!”

“It makes no sense.”

“It doesn't.”

They share a look, a real one, in which Jess's eyes reveal just how frustrated they are at the situation. Lupe would do anything, anything, to fix it. Shake Emma until she sees reason. She may just do it. But for now, she can only tap Jess's foot with her own.

“You did nothing wrong, Jess,” Lupe says firmly. “This is her issue. You do you, and when you'll keep staying true and loyal as you are, she'll realize she's making a terrible mistake.”

Jess bites her lips, hard. Lupe doesn't lower her gaze, and Jess seems uncomfortable by it. Well, Lupe is not here to lie. She says it how it is.

Jess nods at the cameras again, “People will say you're enabling me.”

Lupe scoffs and glares right into the camera, “I’m not. I swear to God, Jess is in the right here.”

“Okay, okay, stop,” Jess says, but they're laughing. “You can't deny you're biased.”

“My ass.”

Jess leans closer and their gaze takes a sterner tint, “Lu, I’m serious. Don't get involved.”

Well.

Lupe leans back and puts her most innocent face on, “Me?”

Jess looks exasperated already. “Yes, you, García. Leave Emma be. For me?” And then she puts on those begging eyes.

Lupe tries to avert them in many different ways. Drinking, looking around, picking at her nails.

“Lu,” well, there’s still laughter in Jess’s voice, so it's not that bad.

“What? I have to date her anyway. Am I meant to stay in silence?”

Jess pinches her nose with her fingers, “I can't with you." Then she sighs, which means Lupe wins. "Just don't pick a fight.”

“I am an angel.”

“My ass.” After they both laugh, Jess leans back and crosses her arms. “Well, I’m not gonna enable you, though. You know you’re in the wrong. You should've left Veronica ages ago.”

Lupe's mouth falls open, and she's the one to kick Jess under the table this time. “You fucking asshole. You know she's gonna watch this, right?”

Jess looks unbothered. “It's not a secret, Veronica knows very well what I think about her. I’ve warned her to treat you right many times. Too many times, Lupe.”

Lupe grunts. Un-fucking-believable. She looks straight at the camera again, “Don’t listen to her, baby. You treat me very well.”

Jess's snort is too loud. It earns them another kick. But Jess retaliates.

“Okay fine, truce,” Lupe says before it degenerates. “Let's not get involved in each other’s love lies. Deal?”

Jess stares at her proffered hand indignantly. “Hell no.”

“One question,” the director suddenly says.

They both look at him curiously.

“Are you going to date each other too?”

That earns him double laughter. If there was anything more ridiculous he could say.

“No, dude," Lupe says, "we’re homies.”

“We’re brothers,” Jess specifies.

“Yeah, we've just been dragged here by our girlfriends, but you can count us out as a couple.”

“Speaking of,” Jess's eyes widen, “our girlfriends are talking over there.” 

“What?” Lupe turns her head, only to see Veronica and Emma engaged in conversation on the other side of the pool.

Her gaze makes them both turn, and soon all four of them are waving with awkward smiles at each other.

“Shit,” Jess says afterwards, and that sounds about right, “we're in trouble. Somehow. I know it.”

Lupe pats their arm pityingly, “Aren't we always?”

“Cheers to that, hermano.”

They clink their beer bottles. Shit, this has come to an end, Lupe can feel it.

“Alright. You behave, okay?” Jess tells her as they stand up.

Lupe shakes her head long-sufferingly, “You too, hermano.”

They hug, a bro hug where they pat each other's back and squeeze a bit too hard. But at the end, Lupe holds on to Jess just a second longer, breathing them in. For luck. And strength.

Then she pulls away and, with one last grin Jess's way, turns to go find her next date. She turns back a moment to see them walk away.

Jess's energy must've worked, because Lupe meets the red-head, who from afar looked rather uptight and standoffish, and finds her actually funny. Or maybe it's just that second beer that just hit.

Greta, that's her name, doesn't seem to be faring any better, alcohol-wise. She reclines on the couch and her short dress rides up a little. Yeah, Lupe is definitely looking. Those are long legs, what can she say?

“Marriage. Marriage, you know?” Greta is saying. “Carson,” so that's the bookworm, “is such a romantic, and sure it worked. On me. But I don't know if I'm there yet. Marriage is hard, or so they say. It changes things.”

Lupe finds herself humming along. Now that she hears it, she can also list it as another reason to be skeptical. Yes, it does. There's a difference between being together and being married. It changes the dynamic. The expectations.

“You're right,” Lupe says, but just as she says it she glimpses at the cameras, feeling caught. And then she finds Veronica's location again. She's with… Max, was that her name? Max’s smile is a bit too big for Lupe's liking. Better watch out for that.

But besides that. If Lupe has now admitted to the fact that marriage changes things, she can't say anymore that it's the same, not being married. That she just doesn't want to do it because. What if… she is actually scared of it?

Nah. Lupe isn't scared of anything. Mostly. If she felt that it was right, that the very institution made sense, she would easily marry Veronica.

Right?

"What's your ideal relationship, by the way?” Greta asks.

All these damn questions. “I mean, the usual, right? Good chemistry, great sex, some fun, and… companionship, I guess.”

Greta eyes her a bit bemusedly, “I can't argue with that. And you got all that with your ex?”

Lupe widens her arms, “Duh. Would I follow her on a show like this otherwise?”

Greta quirks up an eyebrow, “I bet you just love the attention.”

“Speak for yourself.”

They both stare at each other, openly checking each other out in challenge, trying to make the other fold first, but they end up just laughing it off instead.

“What do you find in that bookworm?” Lupe asks her, nodding towards Carson who’s now chatting with Jo.

Greta sighs a bit dreamily. Great. “She's absolutely weird and she knows it. And that's what makes her authentic, you know? She’s real, unlike many other people.”

Lupe finds herself smiling. It rings a bell. She searches for Jess, who she finds talking to Flo. Now those two could be a good match. “I get it. Sounds a bit like Jess.”

Greta looks between the two of them curiously, “So you know Jess?”

“Oh, yeah,” Lupe chuckles, “we've been best friends for a long time, actually. Our girlfriends convinced us to come here.”

“Oh.” And Greta, for some reason, bursts out in raucous laughter.

“Why is that so funny?!”

“No, no, it's just,” Greta tries to calm down, “for Jo and I is the same. Our girlfriends brought us here.”

Lupe's eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. “No way.”

“We truly are in the same boat,” Greta says.

Lupe sits back, a bit confused. Doesn't sound very smart to cast best friends who very well aren't compatible with each other date-wise, or marriage-wise. But the producers may like different kinds of drama. Lupe is definitely bound by the bro code not to date Emma, for example.

Not that that stops her, after she parts from Greta—that was surprisingly fun—to go sit with Emma. Jess's warning plays in her mind for a few moments, but she easily shoves it away. Jess has to say that, but Lupe is sure they'll actually appreciate it if Lupe helps their girlfriend see reason. How can they not?

“Hi, Lupe,” Emma's greeting is already weary. She must know what's coming for her.

“Hi to you.”

Lupe is not a monster, though. She opens her arms, and after a second of hesitation and a roll of her eyes, Emma steps in for a hug. It's brief, awkward. As expected. After three years in each other's life, they're not truly friends. Jess is their only point of contact.

“So how's it going? Found anybody you like?” Lupe asks it casually, but Emma immediately narrows her eyes at her.

“Don’t play with me, Lupe.”

Lupe raises her arms in surrender, “Hey, I come in peace.”

“Well, I don't,” Emma crosses her arms, “won't you ask me how Veronica is doing? You saw us speaking earlier.”

Well, she wasn't going to, but because she doesn't need to. She can see what Veronica is doing, can't she? And she seems to be having fun. But to avoid any misunderstanding, “Yes, of course I was going to. What is she up to?”

“She's connecting,” Emma wiggles her eyebrows, “there are many here ready for marriage. Someone may just snatch her.”

Lupe has to refrain from rolling her eyes. She can see right through Emma's tactic, or rather Veronica's, trying to make her jealous. But Lupe has no such worries. Veronica may flirt and mess around with somebody else, maybe even entertain an idea of marriage, but Lupe knows who she'll be coming back to with her tail between her legs when she'll miss Lupe too much.

“Well, me too,” Lupe says, “I'm connecting to who understands my non-need for marriage, and that might just work out for me, don't you think?”

Emma's eyes narrow even further. “No, I don't think so. Veronica has you wrapped around her… well. I don't want to sound crass.”

Lupe bites back her smile as she nods, a little impressed. “Yet you do. You said it, not me. I love Veronica for more than… that.”

“Do you?”

Lupe makes a face. Jess and Emma are truly meant for each other, speaking like this about her relationship with Veronica when they're both friends with Veronica and know Veronica will watch this. Also, that really stung. “Great opinion you have of me there, Emma.”

Her sincerity seems to strike a cord, because Emma deflates a little. She shifts in her seat with a sigh, “Look, Lupe. You know I care about you, as my… brother-in-law. But you and Veronica have put Jess and I in a tight spot.”

“What? Why? In what way exactly?” Why do they have such a twisted view of her relationship?!

“Whenever you fight! It affects us too, you know.”

“We don't fight that much.” Emma raises her eyebrows, and now Lupe is starting to get really fed up. “Everybody fights! As if you two don't fight.” Emma averts her eyes, and Lupe has her opening, “Yeah, enough about me, why don't you tell me why the hell you don't want to marry Jess?!”

Emma looks mighty peeved too at this point, she straightens her back to maybe look menacing, but her averted eyes still betray her, “That is really none of your business.”

“Oh, so I can't have an opinion about you two, uh?”

“You have many opinions all the time, Lupe.” She braces herself on the table to lean forward. “But this time this is just between me and Jess.”

Lupe blinks. It's like Emma's spelling the words out to a child, and that's incredibly rude. Jess is Lupe's family, of course Lupe has a say in their life! Especially when it comes to protecting them. “Well, if you hurt my brother it affects me too. Jess is the most caring, loving, good-hearted person and partner one could ever have,” now she has to spell it out to Emma, “so if you let them go you'd be making the worst mistake of your life, and you know it!"

Silence descends on them like an icy blast of wind. They end up frozen, staring at each other, like, really deep into each other's soul. Lupe sees something in Emma's eyes that puzzles her, like some kind of hurt that she can't quite explain. Lupe knows that what she said is the incontrovertible truth, there can't be a better partner than Jess, so what is hurting Emma, uh? Certainly not Jess.

That glimpse Lupe catches only lasts a second anyway, so maybe she's just imagined it. Afterwards, something closer to a glare takes its place, one that pierces Lupe deeper than she wants to be seen, so she averts her eyes first this time. Okay. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to speak to Emma after all. Jess won't be happy to see the two of them fight on TV.

“Look, you're right, it's your relationship, I can't know all that's happening in it,” Lupe says with a sigh, “I’m obviously biased, so I'll just shut up from now on.”

Emma looks skeptical.

“I promise, really,” Lupe munches on her lips for a few seconds, “do whatever you need, just, don't exclude the possibility of being happy with Jess. She really loves you.” Well, now she has said enough. Reached her quota of meddling. But at least she got it off her chest.

Emma nods somberly, her gaze lowered, looking deep in her thoughts, “You really care about Jess.”

That makes Lupe look at her in confusion. There's a strange note in the way she said it, like it's news to her. Which is entirely ridiculous, she's been around them for three years. She must be going through something, for sure. Maybe she deserves less harshness and more sympathy.

Lupe lets out a chuckle, “Come on, Emma, don't be daft. I care about my family, so if you marry Jess you'll be included in that.”

Emma rolls her eyes at her, but it does look less icy than before, “Lucky me.”

Asshole. Lupe doesn't flip her the bird only for Jess's sake. “Fine. Out with you. I won't be watching you anymore.”

Emma stands, “I don't believe that for one second.”

Lupe grins, and as Emma walks away, Lupe yells at her, “Fine, then watch your back!”

Emma does flip her a backwards bird.

Lupe has a lot to think about, for sure. Everybody is kind of belittling her relationship—but Lupe still looks around for Veronica, and she manages to catch her eye and earn a wink from her, so everything is perfectly fine there. While Jess's problems run even deeper than she thought, and that gives her reason to worry.

Oh well, nothing more she can do today.

At least she can sit down with Jo and just have a fun chat with her. 

“You're definitely the most masculine person I've ever dated, I have to say,” Jo tells her.

 Lupe laughs. Starting on a real note. “Oh, ditto.”

Jo grins at her, “Who would even do what?”

“Right?” Lupe shakes her head. “Just does not work.” A beat. “I would top, though. Obviously. I feel like you're actually more of a bottom than you look.”

Bingo. A blush spreads on Jo's cheeks, and her mouth hangs open for a second too long, before she laughs it off, “Guess we'll never know.”

Nah, they know. But Lupe will let her live it down, for now. Because she'd rather, finally, quench her curiosity, “Come on, tell me why you don't want to marry her?”

They both look in Flo’s direction. Gorgeous. Jo turns back to Lupe with a heavy sigh, “Dude. Have you seen her? She's perfect.”

“Yeah.” Lupe sits back to listen to this. All she's missing is popcorn.

Jo looks rather dejected, “I just can't help but think, why me? How can I be everything she could ever want? I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm cool too.” She glares at Lupe as if waiting for an objection.

Oh, she's definitely a bottom. Lupe grins, “Yeah. I think so too.”

Jo nods, still looking down, “But I just want to be the best I can possibly be when, or if, I marry her. Right now life is just a big… meh.”

“Oh yeah, she told me you want to change careers.”

“Yeah. I ended up in a boring office job, while all I ever wanted to do was…” Jo huffs.

Lupe leans closer. “What?”

“Ah, it's stupid. But I've always loved baseball. I know it's not realistic, there's no real league and all, but—”

“Whoa, hold on!” Jo frowns at her, but Lupe's grin only widens, “You know I'm on a baseball team, right?”

“What?” Jo's eyes turn as big as baseballs.

“Yeah. I'm a pitcher. Jess's with me too, they're a shortstop.”

“Jess, this Jess?” Jo seems to still be processing, “I haven't spoken with them yet. You're saying that you do this professionally?”

“Yeah! I mean, sure, I have a boring side job too, but we've been gaining traction. We may get a league, and more money. Come on, what role do you play?”

And Jo flexes her arm, which, okay, that's an impressive bicep, “I'll have you know I have the hottest bat in my city. Usually third baseman.”

This is the best news of today. “What are you waiting for then? Find a team! I mean, if you want to move to New York you could try for ours, we can always use a hot bat.”

Jo stares at her fixedly, “You being serious?”

“Dude,” Lupe leans even closer, “I'm never more serious than about baseball.”

Jo looks her up and down with a quirked eyebrow, “Yeah, definitely more than about marriage.”

Caught her there. Lupe snorts. “Can't argue with that.”

And that's when Jo's face, from dejected, lights up like a fucking Christmas tree, “I swear, if you're messing with me...”

“I'm not. I'll give you our coach's contact,” Lupe looks around, suddenly remembering about the cameras, “after we're done with this.”

Jo looks around too, seemingly taking everything in a whole new light. “I can't believe this.”

Lupe places a hand on Jo's shoulder, squeezing it firmly, “You better, brother. Things will be looking up for you pretty soon.”

Now this is what she's talking about. See, Jo doesn't need marriage, she needs to realize her dreams first. Lupe is happy to provide. She parts from Jo with a bear hug and too hard pats on the back, but she'll let her have it this time.

“What were you and Jo squealing about?” is the first thing that Max says as Lupe sits down in front of her, and, okay.

“First of all, I don't squeal,” that earns her a laugh from Max, “second of all, I just made Jo's day. She may get on my baseball team. Or any team, for that matter, but still.”

Max merely grins, a bit cockily, if Lupe reads her right, “Oh yes, Jess told me you're on the same team. You know, I'm a pitcher too.”

Oh, will you look at that? Lupe leans back to survey her closer. Yeah, she definitely has an arm there. “I see. Who do you play for?”

That, at least, makes Max shift uncomfortably and earns Lupe back some points, “I just graduated, okay? I plan to try out for my city's team.”

“Mhm.” Max's a baby then, why does she want to get married? But forget that. Lupe raises her third beer of the day. “Let's cheer to that.”

They clink bottles. Two baseball talks in a row? Lupe will take them.

“I follow you, you know,” Max says, “you're good. I think you're the best right now.”

And she'll sure take that. “Oh well. Must be luck of the draw.”

Max shakes her head at her false modesty. Then she gets cocky again, this child, “I'm better than you, though.”

“Bold,” Lupe chuckles, “but I guess we'll see.”

“Oh, you will.”

Lupe shakes her head this time. Let Max dream. Their games will speak for themselves eventually. “So why, oh why did you ask your girlfriend to marry you? She did call you too optimistic, I have to say.”

Max scoffs indignantly, and looks around for her ex girlfriend. She's not in sight though. “And Es is too pessimistic. Immediately thinks of divorce instead of being married first.”

“Well, that's just a smart thing to do. Look out for the worst case scenarios, because if it does end badly, she'll be alone to deal with the consequences. And you too, Casanova.”

Max sighs long-sufferingly, “I'm not that naive, okay? Everything can always end badly, but does that mean we shouldn't be enjoying things as long as they last, ever? I'd rather go all in now, then wait for a right moment that will never come.”

Well, shit. That is the definition of naivety, but sure. It's poetic and all. “Why not look for somebody who feels about it like you do, though?”

Max widens her arms, “What I'm doing, isn't it?”

Lupe laughs, “Got me there.”

Max smiles, but then her expression turns more somber, “But I don't really want somebody else. I love Esther. I want this with her.”

This kid may be the one in for heartbreak after all. “There's still time. She may just change her mind.”

Max presses her lips together, hard, but nods. Then she studies Lupe more closely for a few moments, “Have you ever felt like this about anybody?”

Lupe shrugs. “Sure, I've,” been naive, “thought it would last with a few people, that they were the one. But I learned the hard way that you can't truly know who it will work out with.”

“No, I mean,” Max adjusts herself on the chair, hitching one leg up and hugging it to her chest. As she speaks, she mostly looks to the side, as if lost in the feeling of it, “have you ever felt so strongly about somebody that it doesn't matter if it will work out, how long will it last, or any of the sort? You just know that when you're with them, everything feels right and good in the world. Like you couldn't imagine yourself wanting to be with anybody else.”

Silence follows these words too, but it's not ice, rather a warm breeze that invests Lupe. It roots her on the spot nonetheless. But Max is just good with words, painting an ideal picture into her mind, one Lupe knows doesn't truly exist in the real world. There have been some moments, especially after sex with Veronica, where Lupe has felt something like that, like everything was rosey and sweet in the world. But then she would wake up the next day and reality would hit her all over again.

The everyday grind simply turns any connection into strain and conflicts, that's just how it is. Max may be too young to have such responsibilities on her shoulders, to know what it truly means to be an adult. And Lupe does not want to be the one to crush her spirit quite yet.

“Of course, I love Veronica, don't I?” Lupe says, trying to smile reassuringly at her, “I'm just saying that one cannot make decisions just with their heart. There are a lot of other things to consider.”

Max doesn't look convinced, of course she wouldn't be, “But it's not right. Marriage should be just about the heart.”

Lupe should be commended for not laughing in her face. She leans forward to pat Max on the shoulder, “Hey, it'll be alright. You'll get to marry the girl of your dreams one day. Might be very soon, who knows?”

Max stares at her too fixedly again, and that's becoming unnerving, “You too, star pitcher.”

Lupe, this time, does laugh. “Just stick to dreaming for yourself.”

She'd forgotten that she's all out of ultimatum-receivers. If she had remembered, she would now feel less upside-down about this idealistic talk about marriage. And she still has one last date to go that may just be the same. Fucking hell. She's all out of fucks to give at this point.

“Nice to meet you, Lupe,” Carson says, offering her a hand.

Lupe stares at it dumbfounded, still a bit out of it. It takes her a moment longer to take it and shake it, “Uh, sure. I mean, you too.”

Carson's hold is firmer than she would've expected. They both sit down on a couch, which feels wonderful for Lupe's back.

“So, you're my last date for the day,” Carson says.

Lupe nods, closes her eyes for a second, “Yeah. Me too.”

It's barely afternoon, but it feels so much later.

“This was more challenging than I thought,” Carson says.

Lupe has to agree again, but she can't bear to repeat herself, so she merely grunts.

“How are you feeling?”

That's when Lupe turns to look at her, meeting Carson's far too earnest eyes, “Fine?”

Carson grins, which looks dorky as hell, “That sounds like a question.”

Lupe rolls her eyes, “No shit, Sherlock.”

Carson's laugh is just as ridiculous, but it sounds real, at least, and Lupe finds herself chuckling too. “I know that this is not where I would've thought to find myself a year ago.”

“Your… ex told me you brought her here, though," Lupe says.

“Yeah, that's true,” Carson stares up at the sky, “I think challenging yourself is a good thing in the long run, even if it feels horrible while doing it. I chose to do this exactly because I would've never done it, especially before coming out.”

Lupe makes an impressed face, “Deep.”

Carson chuckles again, then turns to Lupe, “I gather you're not someone very in touch with their feelings, are you?”

She can't ask questions like that and not expect to be dragged a little. Lupe affects a posher accent, “And what would make you think that?”

Carson shakes her head, “Your ex is much the same, I feel.”

“Bullshit,” Lupe says, “she's a very emotional person.”

“Being emotional and knowing what your feelings are are two very different things.”

Oh, God. Lupe should be double commended for not groaning loudly. “You a therapist or something?”

“No,” Carson shrugs, grins, “I just read a lot. I have been to therapy, though.”

“Why am I not surprised?” she whispers to the camera in front of her, and that earns her an elbow in the ribs, “ Hey.”

Their eyes meet again and they both laugh. At least Lupe has laughed today more than she thought.

“You know, you may think you're just above it all, but I bet that you are just as soft as any of us underneath,” Carson nudges her in the ribs again, “you just want to be loved and cherished like everybody else.”

“Cherished. Give me a break, Carson.” Lupe presses a hand on her face to stifle more laughter. “You're just like your ex described you. I get it, you're a romantic or whatever. But I will keep saying that being a romantic does not end well for a person like me.”

“Why not?”

If Carson had asked it in any other tone, Lupe would've shut her down on the spot. But as it stands, she hears genuine curiosity there that makes her pause. How to summarize all the shit relationships she's had, with too high highs and too low lows? How to explain that only since she's got a stable thing with Veronica in which they're both down to Earth enough to forgo any flowery bullshit, she's been able to breathe more easily? Well, until Veronica started getting on the flowery train. Everything was going well just before that. The highs and lows were just normal sized.

“It makes us all go insane, that's what I think,” Lupe says. “Even this, right? It's crazy. Giving an ultimatum is bullshit, it just makes everybody desperate to get what they want. Be it marriage or freedom. I just want peace. A home, a partner, and for my team to win. Nothing more, nothing less. It doesn't all have to be grandiose and romantic to be worthwhile.”

She feels a hand being placed on her shoulder, and Lupe turns only to regret it, as Carson's smile is far too knowing. Piercing.

“And that, Lupe, is the most romantic thing I've ever heard.”

Chapter Text

One day, and Lupe's world already feels more shifty. Unstable. Flipped upside down. Does she want marriage after all? If she forgets any ideas about it that don’t come from herself, can she just… have a marriage exactly as she wants? That fits her life, without her having to fit it?

Please, it’s been one day. She can’t let all these damn idealists win already.

She'll just concede one thing. She may start envisioning what marriage with Veronica could look like.

But first she has to choose three people from the ones she's dated yesterday to continue on dating. And it's harder than it looks. Fuck.

Flo is definitely the one she’s most attracted to, on a physical level. It's undeniable. She would willingly fall on her knees for that woman. Yes, in that sense.

But, but , as she's noticed already, it would be a disaster of expectations…

Or could she be someone similar enough to Veronica able to help her understand this marriage thing? Since she's so keen. And Lupe may be convinced to be keen.

Lupe almost writes her name on the list she has to give the producers.

She chickens out. If she gets truly infatuated with Flo, that will cause havoc with Veronica. It can’t be too realistic. She can’t be having real feelings, or she will be in deep shit.

Who, then? She can count out Jo, Jess and Max, for how Max is not that butch. But she’s a big baby, that's what she is. And definitely too idealistic.

Max's ex on the other hand… even if it’s true that they may clash in some ways, it's not actually that bad of a choice. Esther is beautiful and no-nonsense. A rare combination. But two negatives can’t make a positive, can they? If they do the trial marriage without either of them believing in it, they won’t get any new insights. For how tempting that is, she promised Veronica she would make an effort.

A middle ground, that's what she needs. 

At the end of the day, once she's scrapped Emma too for obvious reasons, all she has left are Greta and Carson. How did this happen?

But Greta is fun, right? She has her charms about her, and she may be unsure about marriage too, but it seems more due to insecurity than a real aversion to it. The two of them could come up with half of an answer, somewhat.

And goddamn Carson. Never would Lupe normally go for a bookworm —nothing against them, but they usually don't have much in common. In this case, though, Lupe can't deny that Carson has a way about her that makes it easy to just… be. In a weird, backward kind of way, she reminds her of Jess.

So fine, two people from the same couple may be a risk, but from these two opposing yet complementary views Lupe can gather all the perspective she needs. There! Who could've come up with better logic?

She writes down their names. The producers said two are the most important, but to write a third one to go on a few dates with, in case things don't work out with either of the first two.

But who does she choose? She's already ruled Esther out as too risky on the negative end. Flo, instead, too risky on the positive end.

Vi told them all to be bold and not make easy choices, to allow themselves to be challenged… but, well, Lupe thinks her first two choices are pretty challenging already, and she doesn't want to go to even more extremes. She doesn't need to.

Fuck it. She deserves one easy choice out of three, right? Which one will it be? Not Max, she couldn't take seeing more of her hopelessness. She could shoot the shit with Jo, and help her to fulfill her baseball dream. But—

Lupe already has enough goals of her own for this crazy adventure. Very important ones to meet, or her life may turn a whole lot messier when they all go back home. In the end, the easiest choice of all is obvious.

She writes down Jess's name. Jess made her a promise, didn't they? They need to check in with each other, so what better excuse than going on organized dates? That will be fun.

If the producers say that it's an unfair choice, she'll say Esther.

Easy. Like a piece of cake.

And it does go her way. She should be surprised, but those three must truly be on her same wavelength. Carson, Greta, and Jess all chose her too. She may just get through this thing in one piece.

Veronica sends her a promising message too, Oh, my dates are so fun! I can't wait to tell you all about it.

Lupe shakes her head with a fond smile, Enjoy, baby.

The next message Veronica sends is a picture. Of herself, in lingerie, on her bed, her cleavage in full view, just the hint of nipples visible. Her expression is downright filthy. The caption reads, You too, baby.

Really, who else could Lupe want? Her hand is already diving into her boxers with some kind of withdrawal-induced desperation that reminds her of the first time they ever slept together.

Lupe is drunk, undeniably, outrageously so. One beer turned into a shot turned into two more beers and a few more shots she lost count of. She'd kind of joined a random queer group in a random bar, as drinking alone is just sad and none of her friends are here.

However, when she sees her in the distance, it's like everything washes right out of her system. She feels focused, steady, the whole of her concentrated on one thought— I need to have that girl.

She says goodbye to the group, people she will not remember nor ever see again, and walks to the bar to slide next to this gorgeous girl.

“Let me buy you a drink, sweetheart,” she says. Or maybe slurs, but not too much.

The girl eyes her amusedly, “Oh dear, you look rough.”

Lupe will not be deterred, “And you can be sure I'm rough in other ways too.”

Lupe is good, she knows it. Even still, it usually isn’t this easy. Yet, the girl slides a hand up the front of Lupe’s partly open shirt, her long nails scraping her bare skin up to Lupe's neck, the girl’s eyes intent, dark, hungry, “And that’s exactly what I was looking for.”

They're loud, in the bathroom. Undeniably, outrageously so. But nobody can expect Lupe to care. Her fingers are too busy driving roughly, unrestrained, into this perfect girl's slick-wet cunt, one of the girl's heeled feet propped up on the toilet, the girl's nails digging into Lupe's back deliciously. When she comes with a high-pitched shout, her walls fluttering desperately around Lupe's fingers, Lupe groans in pleasure too, this close to coming in her pants just out of sheer arousal. When the girl's teeth bury unexpectedly into the skin above Lupe's collarbone, Lupe does yelp almost as loudly.

“Hi, I’m Veronica,” the girl says with a pleased smile after she's caught her breath.

Lupe's fingers are still in her, and when she's encouraged to stay, her thumb restarts a circling motion on her clit, “Hi, Veronica, nice to meet you,” she whispers against Veronica's lips, catching her sweet whimpers in her mouth, “I’m Lupe.”

“God,” Veronica can only say, her hips meeting Lupe's renewed thrusts, “yes, yes, don't stop. Never stop.”

Lupe doesn't plan to. After Veronica has come again, she calls an Uber and takes her home. If she gets like this with limited resources, Lupe has to know how she'll react to her strap. She should've brought it, goddamnit, what a rookie mistake.

Or not. Because it turns out to be one of her longest hookups ever, Veronica seemingly insatiable for her. Lupe loses count of how many times she makes her come that night, her strap buried deep in her. And Veronica is quite skilled too, so that it's also hard for Lupe to have enough of her. They get so incredibly rough with it all that the scratches and hickeys stay on Lupe's skin for quite a while, even when they meet again a few days later and new ones are made.

They never stop meeting after that.

Lupe grins, sweaty and satisfied, as she still comes hard, to this day, with the memory of it. In a hotel room in Hawaii at that. Not a bad life.

But, afterglow and all, the reality of dating strangers for marriage is still a harsh one, safe choices or not. It becomes immediately apparent as she sits down at a bar with Greta that very evening. 

“I was surprised to see you chose me too,” Greta says, “I thought I wouldn’t be exactly your type.”

“And what do you think my type is, uh?” Lupa raises her eyebrows in challenge.

“Pillow princesses,” Greta shoots back, mirroring her expression.

“Hell no,” Lupe says, tsking, “Veronica is not a pillow princess.”

“I see,” Greta looks like she’s having too much fun at her expense, “so you're a bottom.”

“No,” Lupe stresses, maybe a bit too loudly, “what the hell? I just get my due, you know, after doing all the work.”

“Hm, I could top you,” Greta says, casual, “easily.”

The thought is so ridiculous that Lupe snorts into her drink, “Sure, dream about it. And I thought this wasn't about sex, we need to think about the sanctity of marriage.” She imitates Vi’s voice and that gets a kick out of Greta.

“But like you said,” Greta says, “what's marriage without good sex, right? We need to evaluate every aspect.”

Lupe nods, somberly, “Indeed.”

“Indeed.”

They cannot be somber to save their life, not even the cameras pointed at them help keep them on track. But somebody needs to get a grip, “Alright, alright. I'm willing to be flexible, but you need to at least not wear heels if you're with me.”

“God, your ego is so fragile.”

Lupe scoffs, “It's not, I'm simply ensuring its survival.”

Greta shakes her head, “Is this what you seek in a relationship? An ego boost?”

That sounded serious. Lupe studies Greta suspiciously, “What's that supposed to mean, uh? Yeah, I want my relationship to make me feel good about myself, I think that's bare minimum.”

“Oh, let me guess,” now Greta is back to banter. She leans forward and grabs Lupe's bicep, feeling it up, as Lupe tries, and fails, to keep a straight face, “do I need to tell you daily how strong you are? Is that a bare minimum requirement?”

“Hm,” Lupe pretends to think about it, “it can't hurt.”

Greta grins, “You're so easy.”

First of all… maybe. She's a simple guy with simple pleasures, what can she say? But she's being read too much to filth, and that absolutely won't do. She leans back to better study Greta, “And what makes you tick, uh? Let me guess, you like them trotting after you like a puppy dog.”

Greta rolls her eyes, sipping her drink casually, but Lupe sees right through it.

“Oh yes, you need to be their lady and savior, they need to be absolutely obsessed with you,” it does feel so good to play this game, “am I right?”

But Greta is full of surprises today. She gazes to the side and looks lost in thought as she says, wistfully, “You know what, Lupe? You're right. I got many kicks out of that in the past. But it got tiring after a while. Fake, unsatisfying. I don't want a fan, I want somebody who loves and sees me for who I really am.”

Goddamnit. This is the show effect that the producers are looking to induce. Get people to psychoanalyze themselves on screen. Lupe's already fallen for it too, “Carson is good with that, I guess. Sees right through bullshit.”

Greta hums in agreement, but waves it off, “So really. Us, together. How would that even work? We're both recovering bullshitters longing for real love.”

Lupe cackles, “There should be a support group for that.”

Greta gestures at the place they're at, the obvious cameras, “Here it is.”

Debatable. The show is more a shit-stirrer than a supporter. “Look, if we, the least likely couple, choose each other and manage to have a successful marriage, then I could believe that my marriage with Veronica might work.”

“That is setting yourself up for failure,” Greta says, frowning at her, confused.

“No, listen, it makes sense,” Lupe tries to explain her thought process, hoping it makes any modicum of sense outside her own brain, “we both think we can help each other out somehow, don't we? Like, why wouldn't you choose some of the ultimatum givers otherwise?”

“I did almost choose to date Jess,” Greta says with a sigh, “but they're so lovestruck. I've already got one of those at home.”

Lupe chuckles, “Jess will end up with half a dozen marriage proposals by the end of this if Emma doesn't get her shit together.”

Greta studies her curiously, “And what convinced you to do this if you don’t even think you'll get anything out of it?”

Lupe makes a face, taking a swig of her beer, “Nah, I mean. I could get something out of it. I am. Look,” she points at Greta, while leaning back on her elbow to appear more swag than she feels, “I'm dating a beautiful woman. How could I complain?”

Greta arches one perfectly shaped eyebrow, like you're full of shit.

“What?” Lupe glimpses for a second at the camera, debating whether she should be more honest. But, in the end, it’s no secret. “So maybe I agreed more to support Jess than anything, but I can have more than one agenda, can I? It's not against the rules.”

That peaks Greta’s interest. She uncrosses her legs and recrosses them the other way. “You're supporting Jess, uh? How do you plan to do that?”

And Lupe grins, pointing two fingers at her own eyes and then at the whole room, “I’ve got eyes and ears everywhere, baby.”

Greta, instead of being impressed, looks more and more amused, “I get why you're friends with Jess, you're both such dorks.”

"Wha—” Lupe presses a hand to her chest. That’s going too far. “How dare you. You meant to say we're both so cool.”

Greta rolls her eyes, “Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourselves that.”

Caught between wanting to keep the bit going and needing to laugh, Lupe lasts one more second of eye contact before both her and Greta snort into their drinks. 

“When Jo joins our team you should come see us play,” Lupe says, grinning ear to ear at the prospect. Now that is something she wouldn’t mind getting out of this.

“Oh right, now you're revolutionizing Jo's life too,” Greta narrows her eyes at her, “García, don't tell me you're secretly a good samaritan. You like fixing everybody else's lives but your own is shit, is that it?”

At that, Lupe's brain stutters for a second. Now that is too far. A bold statement for a second date. Lupe's mouth opens and closes a few times before it remembers how to form words, “My—my life is not shit, thank you very much.” She raises her hand in front of her and starts pulling down finger—so maybe that is a bit dorky, but it’s useful . “I play the sport I love, I’ve got an amazing girlfriend, and overall—”

“Yeah, your girlfriend just gave you an ultimatum, baby ,” Greta copies her tone from before, but it weirdly doesn't sound mocking, it’s all too serious all of a sudden, “have you sat down a second to take that in? You may fucking lose her if you don’t do what she wants you to do, and pretty soon, I might add.”

That shuts them both up. They've circled back to the crux of the matter. Why they’re here in the first place, pretending to want to date each other in order to find a solution to their… predicament. A magic formula that will make them both want to change their whole idea about marriage in a few weeks. Easy shit, basically.

“Well, thanks, Gill,” Lupe blows out air for a long moment, “very encouraging.”

“Sorry.”

They both lean back, their expressions sour. Silence reigns over them for an even longer moment as they nurse their drinks, shifting under the cameras’ scrutiny. Fucking hell. So maybe Greta wasn't the best choice. There is no real romantic chemistry between them, so what can they even accomplish? But again, the other choices presented much more risk.

Come on, García, you can do this. Where is your game?

“Hey,” Lupe says, searching Greta's eyes and finding them, “can we focus on… us?” She can't really hold back her grimace entirely, “Don't speak about anybody else for a second?”

Greta exhales, and nods, “Yeah. Want another drink?”

“Please.”

After the second drink hits, their brains switch that much off that the rest of the night becomes infinitely more pleasant. Lupe still doesn't know where it can take them, because all they do is joke around and laugh as they try to out-flirt each other. It doesn't make for a bad second date, but marriage? Lord. Once again, all it does is reminding her how fun and freeing it is to be dating for the hell of it.

“This is fancy,” Lupe looks around at the boat-bar where she and Carson are sitting on. When she doesn't think about the scope of what they're doing, being in Hawaii and having everything paid for is really fucking nice. Like, truly. It's gorgeous here, and she does get to have dates she probably would never afford otherwise.

“It is very fancy,” Carson says, smiling as she looks at the soft waves crashing underneath them.

Lupe swallows her drink. She's actually… kinda nervous. Judging from their first talk, Carson has a way to sneak under her defenses and make her talk her thoughts aloud. Maybe this was the most dangerous choice, the one that will make her all self-reflect and shit and figure out what she may want in a marriage, why she doesn't want it currently, and what she'd need to want it. Her brain hurts already.

Carson pops a cherry from the bowl that had been put on the table into her mouth, then eyes Lupe with a tighter smile, “I'm kinda nervous, to be honest.”

Awesome. She can put it all on Carson. “Yeah, me too.” What the hell, García? Stop being so honest.

“What do you have to be nervous about?” Carson chuckles, “I bet you've been on hundreds of dates.”

Now that makes Lupe pay a bit more attention, “What, and you haven't? You’ve got a whole ass girlfriend, seems like you’re pretty successful.”

Carson’s eyes stay fixed on the cherries, "Well, not really. I just got very lucky after I came out. Greta is my first ever girlfriend.”

Lupe wants to make a joke to ease the tension, but Carson's expression keeps her silent. She pops a cherry into her own mouth.

“The only girl I ever dated,” Carson clarifies, “I'm kind of new to all this.”

Yeah, she’d gotten that. “Believe me, the number of relationships does not guarantee that one is any good at them.”

A corner of Carson's lips quirk up, “That’s very self-aware of you, Lupe.”

“Well, I am very self-aware, don't let this,” Lupe motions at her own—very gorgeous—self, “fool you.”

“In fact it hasn't,” Carson says. After a short laugh, she shakes herself off and sits straighter on her chair, regaining some of the—albeit quirky—self-assuredness Lupe had seen in her. “Alright, Lu. Can I call you Lu? That's how Jess called you.”

Lupe makes a face at her, “Yeah, Jess , my best friend of seven years?”

“Sorry,” Carson grimaces, “then I won't.”

“Nah, I’m messing with you,” Lupe chuckles, “you can. Everybody calls me that.”

“Cool,” Carson lets out a breath of relief. Nerd. “It does suit you.”

“Uhm, thanks.”

There's a moment full of awkwardness as the conversation stalls, in which Lupe remembers the bizarreness of all this, of the cameras pointed at them. Carson seems to be thinking the same, and they share a look of commiseration. Then amusement. Laughing not to cry and all.

It resettles them, at least. Puts them back on their course.

Lupe doesn't want to admit it, but Carson's presence does put her at ease. Like they've known each other much longer already, and they're just playing a game they've played hundreds of times before.

Lupe is not quite sure if it's in any way romantic, though. Or if it could be. Should it be? Can it really be expected of them, with fucking cameras capturing their every move?

Lupe sighs, realizing she's done it only a second later. That’s when she feels Carson's hand on top of hers, and she looks at her in surprise. Curious, despite herself. 

“I’ve been married already, you know,” Carson says, “to a man.”

Not that unsurprising. Lupe hums in understanding, or maybe sympathy. Must've been a messy situation to get out of. Lupe knows a thing or two about those. 

“And you just love marriage so much to throw yourself right back into it?” Lupe asks. She doesn't mean to be sarcastic, she really does not understand why Carson would get back on that ride so soon.

“No,” Carson says, firmly, “it's not about marriage per se. But I did go quite a long time doing what others expected of me, thinking I wanted it, even. I had the quote unquote ‘perfect life’, and it always felt wrong. So now that I know what, who I really want, I—why shouldn't I go all in? Experience it fully?”

Now Lupe understands why Carson feels so familiar, why there's some kind of resonance between them... it's the religion, or at the very least family, fucking trauma. Fucking fantastic.

“I mean, yeah, sure,” Lupe shrugs, “but I’d just warn you that you may be driven by some kind of… vindication or something. And sometimes that doesn't make you see clearly, but rather leads you to be more disappointed, and kind of prove your folks right. That their way is right. And that's a just back door to self-sabotage.”

Carson's eyes widen, as she stares at a spot far away, at the horror Lupe just painted for her.

“I mean, I may be wrong,” Lupe rushes to add—she can’t have the bookworm collapse under her own brain, “since I’m biased against marriage and all.”

Carson blinks back at her, stares more intently, “Why are you so against it, Lu?”

The nickname may be too premature. Lupe takes another swig of her beer, then places the bottle back on the table with a dull sound, “To put it simply, marriage as an institution was not presented to me in a very nice light when I was a kid. More like a prison and a farce, with no real advantage, let alone love, in it.” Carson nods, and Lupe shrugs again, “So yeah, sure, I could choose to subvert it. Do it like I want. But it ain’t that easy like everybody makes it seem.”

“I—I get it,” Carson says, “I used to see it the same way. But since I’ve fallen in love with Greta I just… feel it, you know? That nothing else matters beyond our love and what marriage means for us.” There it is again, that tooth-rotting rose-tinted romanticism. “It's what I’ve been trying to make Greta understand.”

And exactly why Greta won't. Or Lupe. “Ah, Carson. Love conquers all, am I right? I would love for that to be true, but I choose to live in reality. They’d have to be Aphrodite come on Earth to make me change my mind.”

And Carson snorts into her hand, trying to save some face from the cameras, which makes it even funnier, somehow. “What, you saying your girlfriend isn't? She sure looks like it.”

“Nah, Veronica is human,” Lupe says, “just human, like all of us. With all the mess it entails.” Lupe sighs more purposely dramatically, “No get out of jail free card, I'm afraid.”

“Hm,” Carsons regards her more curiously again. Lupe just knows she's coming to even more conclusions about her, “of course, none of us are perfect. You must love her a lot to understand that and give her some grace.”

For some reason, Lupe's stomach churns uncomfortably. It might just be the beer too many she's had. “Duh,” she grins, "isn't that what a relationship is? Putting up with each other’s mess?”

Carsons rolls her eyes, “Sure, yeah. But not just that.”

“Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that,” Lupe takes another sip of her beer that turns a bit bigger than intended. She finishes it all. “I'll sure know all about your messes if we do this thing together.”

“Aw,” Carsons leans her chin on her propped up hand and looks at her in amusement, “so you're thinking about marrying me.”

Jeez. Give her a break.

Cop-out or not, Lupe has never been more thankful for her choices as she goes to meet Jess, her best friend, her hermano, for the next date. She would've not tolerated it otherwise, she’s already had it.

When she sees Jess outside the restaurant they'll be eating at, ten tonnes of Lupe’s tension roll right off her shoulders.

Jess's smile reaches their eyes when they notice Lupe too. Wordlessly, they fall into a hug. Christ, it feels like it's been ages and not just three days since they’ve seen each other last. Ages have happened in the meantime. Lupe breathes in, and takes in Jess's familiar musky scent, something so soothing that Lupe has to catch herself from melting too much into Jess's arms. She pats their back instead. Vigorously. Brotherly. Cause that’s what they are.

“Let’s go,” Jess says, rubbing her shoulder, and Lupe nods.

“The producers haven't caught the memo yet, have they?” is Lupe's first comment as they sit down, “This place is quite fancy for a friend date.”

“Hey, technically we're meant to date for real,” Jess shrugs, “we signed up for it.”

“Sure, but… why did you choose me, uh?” Lupe arches an eyebrow at them, “You could be having a real date.”

“I promised you, didn't I?” Jess says, far too intensely, like when they're rallying Lupe up before a game, “To be in this together.”

Lupe bites her lips to keep her smile in check, “Yeah, you did. And you always keep your word, McCready.” Not too covertly, she glimpses at the camera and winks at it. Let the audience have no doubt who to root for.

Jess nudges her foot, “Stop it, García.”

“Don’t know what you're talking about.”

She expects Jess to insist again, convince her to behave, but Jess ducks their head instead, a shy smile on their face. The light may be a bit deceiving, but Lupe would swear the tips of their ears are flushed too. Which tells Lupe that she's far from off course. Jess does deserve all the bolstering she can offer. All is fair in love and war, after all.

“We'll get you your girl, Jess,” Lupe says, more softly, “I promise you this.”

Jess regards her for a long moment, enough that Lupe shifts a bit in her chair. Finally, Jess grins, “All this marriage talk is mellowing you already, hermano?”

Lupe tsks. “I’m tired of it already.”

Jess frowns, “Your dates are doing nothing for you?”

Lupe pauses. Thinks of Carson and Greta. Polar opposite choices that she still doesn't know what they say about her. Why did she make such atypical choices? So far from her usual type.

She thinks of Veronica, then, and how much she'd rather just go home and forget all about this entire business.

Their drinks arrive, and Lupe is on it immediately. Then she rolls her eyes at Jess, “It's fine. What about yours ? Many girls seemed very interested in you, Casanova.”

“Yeah,” Jess says, simply, “I don't think I can tell you who they are yet.”

They both look at the director for confirmation, who shakes her head. Spoilsport.

“But how's it going? There's potential?” Lupe asks, at least.

Jess drinks too, their jaw clenched around it. It's wrong, to see them look this tight and worried. They don't deserve a partner who doubts them. “I don't know what I’m supposed to do, Lu,” Jess admits, and it doesn't sound easy to do, for someone so usually sure of themselves. Lupe nudges their foot again, and Jess presses back in acknowledgment. “It's like I’m damned if I try testing things out with someone else for real, and damned if I don't.”

Yeah. “Seems like we’re in the same boat, hermano.” Jess makes a face. It lasts for a fraction of a second, but Lupe catches it, and narrows her eyes at them, “What?”

Jess looks around the room, feigning innocence, “Nothing.”

Lupe dreads it already, “What have you done?”

Jess presses their lips together, in what Lupe knows is both a bitten-off smile and a guilty look. Jess turns to her with a pleading face, “So I may have gotten in a fight with Veronica on camera. But… it wasn’t too bad. I swear.”

Lupe hears a snort from a cameraman. That should count as a very unprofessional meddling. But, well, it's too late, Lupe's heard it. And, given such a hint, she ends up face-palming into her hand, “I’m here to help you and you sabotage me?!”

“Hey, I’m advocating for you,” Jess protests, “come on, Lu. She proposes to you without discussing it with you first. Then drags you here and demands you to make your peace with it! The way she was talking, it was a done deal already. She has no consideration for what you really—”

“Stop.” Lupe raises a hand, and Jess shuts up. The air freezes, as Lupe reads on Jess's face the realization that they went too far, but also the stubbornness to cling to being right.

It's an old argument between them, maybe the only one. Jess has the notion that Lupe's girlfriends aren't right for her, that Lupe allows them to walk all over her too much. Especially Veronica. Lupe has found herself too many times caught between her girlfriend and her best friend being snippy at each other, in a good-natured way that soon turns far too real. And venomous. It's… Jess has been there for her for previous relationships too—which Lupe does now admit to having been just left of healthy—but never did they get this heated about it. With Veronica, instead, that Lupe will keep claiming is the best she's ever been with, Jess can't seem to hold back. Only the fact that Veronica has as much, if not more, of a sharp tongue and a take-no-shit attitude has allowed a coexistence to happen, albeit not exactly a peaceful one.

It's been a very tight spot, one that she still doesn't know how to quite navigate. Because in all other cases Jess doesn't act like this. They do give Lupe their fair and honest opinion, an often brutal one, and Lupe wouldn't have it any other way, but… they don’t overstep.

That's why, in the face of overstepping, even right now—or especially in such a weird situation like a televised interaction—Lupe finds herself at a loss. Because, in all those other cases, she does trust Jess's opinion and often follows their advice with a high chance of success. So hitting such a wall, a topic that she and Jess fundamentally disagree about, one where they can’t seem to find common ground, leaves her feeling a bit displaced. Out of balance.

Normally, she tries her best to just divert from it and get back to safer grounds. But, the thing is, this topic is exactly why they’re here.

“Sorry,” Jess says.

Lupe knows they are, knows that Jess doesn't like how pushy they get about this, but it doesn't change the fact that Jess does believe that Veronica is trying to manipulate her into getting married. That Lupe has little spine to contrast it. That Lupe willingly, because of how fucked up she is, chooses women who treat her like a toy boy and not like her own equally deserving person.

Knowing that her own best friend has this kind of opinion about her is probably the hardest elephant she's ever had to circumnavigate in a room. Because the thing is, like she told Carson, Lupe is self-aware enough to know that there might be… some truth to all that.

But it’s just her reality. It's all she knows, has ever known. Even if she wanted to change, look for something different, something more, where would she even begin? Nobody else has such a grip on her.

And she just wishes Jess would understand it. Give up. Realize that Lupe has no other option.

“I did it too anyway,” Lupe says, a bit petulantly, maybe, but it's her one way to shift the attention from herself, “argued with Emma. Reminded her that she'd be making a stupid mistake if she did not marry you.”

Jess huffs, a mix of frustration and some kind of dark amusement, “I knew you would.” Even if I asked you not to goes unsaid.

Finally, their food arrives, and that's a fine enough distraction. They both pounce on it like starved animals, and for a while the only sound is that of cutlery and working jaws. Lupe uses the time to reconvene with herself, make peace with the fact that what she thought would be some respite, has turned out to be her hardest date.

Of course. She has the most stakes here.

But, if she thinks about it, what is at stake? Not her friendship with Jess, that's a given. They've been through so much together, so many changes through the years, so even if it can be frustrating at times, they both know that each other’s meddling is based on the fact that they are ride-or-die. Lupe can never hold on to hard feelings, let alone resent Jess.

So maybe this is an opportunity. To tackle this one thing they don't see eye to eye with once and for all. For once, Lupe could look directly at it, instead of away, and dissect it from all angles.

Lupe puts down her fork, “Alright.” She crosses her arms and stares Jess down, watching them chew faster and swallow. Before they put their fork down too. “Let’s hear it. What's your idea of the right relationship for me, uh?”

Jess is not one to back away from a challenge, but they do visibly struggle now. Weren’t expecting it, uh, McCready? Their face takes on many emotions in a quick flash, as they study Lupe in search of an answer to their obvious question spelled by the arch of their eyebrows, Do you really mean that?

Lupe pinches her nose, briefly, once, Give me your best shot.

“Lu, I've been your best friend for a long time,” Jess starts, their mouth still pursed in hesitation, “I know you. I know how hard you try to… do good. Be a good player, teammate, partner, friend.”

Try is the imperative word. Of course, she’s not that good at any of it, that's what Jess is about to say.

“But you just run yourself ragged,” Jess says instead, shaking their head, “and never give yourself enough credit. You don’t need to try so hard, you know?”

Lupe scoffs, a little, shifting on her seat, “And what do you want me to do, sit on my ass all day?”

Jess starts rolling her eyes, but stops the motion, and just smiles at her a bit softer, “That’s not what I mean, and you know it. I’m just saying that you could be a little… kinder to yourself. And be with people who treat you a bit kinder too.”

Lupe tsks, “Yeah, and in what ways exactly? You always say that, but in my opinion I’ve done that already. You think I don't know when people are being unfair to me? I have a master in that, if you remember, and I think I’ve become quite good at not taking any of that shit.”

She didn't mean to get so ruffled already, she did ask Jess to go for it. But, for Jess to think they know best when—

“I know, you have,” Jess rushes to say, “and that's the thing, you don't take that anywhere else except when it comes to relationships. You've got a bit,” Jess pinches her thumb and forefinger, “of a blindspot, hermano. You gotta admit that.”

She doesn't have to. Absolutely not. Because it's not true at all.

And now she's mad. At Jess. For answering her question. More than mad, she's pissed off, but in a way that only makes her want to stomp her foot and huff out hair from her nose like a bull. To reject anything Jess is saying.

Jess, of course, sees it, and presses their foot against Lupe's calf more firmly. Grounding her. “I’m just asking you to try and give your dates a real shot?” Lupe grumbles some more, but Jess doesn't relent, “Notice if they see you for who you really are. If they take into account what you want. What you need, Lu.”

She rather prefers when Jess is shouting profanities across a field when a game isn't going right, or when they're sharing cryptid knowledge that no one else would ever care to memorize. And not this… softened features and gaze, fixed on Lupe like on a small dejected puppy needing some love. It's embarrassing. The viewers will think she's weak. That she doesn't know how to stand up for herself, and needs her stronger brother to put some sense into her.

“Sure, whatever,” she says, and an awkward silence falls. Here's that wall she hates again, a point in which their views diverge too much.

“You asked me,” Jess says, regret in their voice, when Lupe's mood stays what Jess would define old grumps. 

“I know,” Lupe grumbles, chewing on some bread, “and I regret my action.”

Jess laughs, their mouth wide and full of sharp teeth. Jess is a rather handsome fella, no wonder half the cast is enamored with them. They're sweet and wise and weird too. A perfect combination.

Jess kicks her foot, and Lupe notices she'd trailed off in her thoughts. On Jess. She shakes herself off. Focus. 

“Come on,” Jess nods at her, “bring it on. What can I do better with Emma?”

“Nothing,” is the immediate answer. Maybe too quick. But it's true, “you're an amazing partner, everybody would agree. Considerate, committed, hot.” Lupe laughs at Jess rolling their eyes. “It's true, I don't understand where Emma got all these doubts about you. Clearly she's going through something, so just don't worry about it.”

“Lu,” Jess says, more hesitant than before, “don't you think you've got too high of an opinion of me? I'm not perfect either.”

“Wha—I know,” of course she knows, “hey, I've been your best friend for a long time too. You're not like most people, you're a bit of an acquired taste, but Emma has been with you for a while, hasn't she? She's signed up for it. So yeah, if she's pegged you wrong and now she's not okay with it anymore, then that's on her.”

Jess purses their lips, “I just don't understand. I've never shown any interest for anybody else since we've been together, so how can she think I would easily fall for anybody else and marry them?”

“Exactly,” Lupe slaps the table, “see? It's her insecurities. So if you want my advice, just prove to her that your trial marriage will just be for the game's purposes but nothing more, and boom, you're married. Easy peasy.”

Jess huffs a laugh, shaking their head at her like Lupe's so funny. Hey, she's got some good advice to give too. “Alright, if this will be so easy for me, what's your game plan then?”

Again with pointing the reflector on Lupe. Lupe smirks, “Don't you worry about me. I'll prove to Veronica that I'm committed too, I just have no intention to get married. When she's done with her trial run, she'll realize how trivial of an idea it is, and she'll get over it. Boom, we get back to normal.”

Jess, for some reason, lets out a long sigh, “Lu. You a 100% sure you don't actually want to get married and you're just with the wrong person?”

Jess cares for her, above most people in their life, and Lupe is ever proud and grateful for it.

But sometimes they're just so fucking stubborn, “I will enjoy dressing up for yours, okay? So hurry up with it.”

“Just promise me,” Jess says, never one to give up, “that you'll contemplate the possibility that you can do better? Please? For me?”

Jess's puppy eyes are a low blow, their clasped, begging hands too. Such an idiot. “Fine, McCready. If it'll make you sleep better at night.”

And Jess grins, “Oh, it will.”

She does not think that Jess is on to something at all, but… fine, whatever, she's in this mess already. Could someone like Greta or Carson really be an option for her? She could test it out more. For science. Yeah, that's it.

And to make Jess worry less about her.

“But you do it too, then,” Lupe says, because she's also not one to give up, “because if Emma doesn't appreciate you, someone else sure will.”

Jess does not look happy about Lupe's opinion on their relationship situation either. But their friendship is always one for equality, so here they are. Wanting the other to be happy and stopping at nothing, even crossing some boundaries, to ensure it. This is why they are so rock solid.

Jess raises a hand across the table, shaking her head long-sufferingly, and Lupe grins as she high fives them.

“Good luck to us, then,” Jess says.

“Yep,” Lupe says, “I'll need a proper vacation after this.”

Jess winks at her, “We can arrange that.”

See? In the end, for how bumpier than expected, her ‘date’ with Jess did its job. In recentering her, reaffirming what her missions are in this endeavor, and refilling her energy. She can now go a few more days without seeing Jess, until their next and final date, and, then, the dreaded choice.

Realistically, to fulfill her promise to Jess, her only real option for a trial marriage is Carson. Greta is far too similar to her, while Carson's got this quality that Lupe thinks is what Jess is talking about. Is it… emotional intelligence? Is that what it is? Lupe does not think that Veronica lacks it entirely, unlike what Jess may believe, she's just a more explosive individual by nature. Just like Lupe likes, and why she chose her. The truth of the matter is that, most likely, someone like Carson, as a girlfriend, would bore her to death.

But fine. She'll give her a fair shot. Let nobody say she's not the best friend ever. Jess deserves good sleep and all.

Expect that a group night with the whole cast threatens to undo all her work. All her resolve and understanding of what the hell she is even doing here. Because between drinks and chats with the others—who outside of a staged dating context are much more fun and real to get to know—Veronica signals her to the side. And soon they're making out against a back wall, being filmed, undoing all pretense for sneaking out too. This is what the creators want, the messiness of it, much more than helping couples get married or people find the right partner.

“Hmm, what are you doing, who are you dating?” Veronica asks between kisses, being impertinent, as she knows Lupe can't answer, “No, don't tell me,” she even adds, as if Lupe could.

Lupe is barely paying attention anyway. It's hard enough to hold back and not slip a hand under Veronica's skirt, for Christ's sake. She doubts the camerapeople will truly mind, but Lupe's got some self-respect. 

“Are you having fun, baby?” Lupe asks her, because she's considerate too, “Finding what you need?”

“Oh yeah,” Veronica breathes out, and her teeth find the flash of Lupe's bottom lip, pulling on it,“I’m having the time of my life. Only our wedding will top that, I'm sure.”

Lupe groans, not at the veiled jab, but at the mention of top that. What a waste to have to part.

Back to business. Her second date with Greta is, then, rather inconclusive, as they hit a wall in their possible bonding. To Lupe, at least, it seems they're on the same page. She's definitely curious about who else Greta is dating, what kind of trial marriage she'll be having, but does not ask. She'll find out eventually. And so they part with a hug and what are clear words of encouragement and good luck without being that obvious that it's already a bust.

Lupe only hopes Greta won't hold it against her when she'll be choosing her (ex) girlfriend.

Meeting Carson again, Lupe feels more trepidation, without a doubt. This is the deciding date. The choice is already mostly made, it's not like she has any other real options, but she needs to see things going a step further. To feel the potential for sharing a bed with this person for the next three weeks.

She'll be bringing some game, then. She and Carson may have connected on a, what, human level? But there is no spark. No flirting. No romantic vibes. It wasn't in Lupe's plans to have those, for Veronica's sake, but she can't disappoint Jess. She promised to try and experience a different kind of relationship.

They're having a picnic on the beach this time, which is nice. Carson immediately draws her in for a hug, and Lupe lets herself lean into it a moment longer. Holding her tighter, burying her face into her hair, inhaling her scent. Lupe relies a lot on physical cues, needs her senses to be able to tell. And Carson's hair smells like a very fruity shampoo that covers her personal one entirely, and it prickles Lupe's nose.

When they part, Carson seems a bit taken aback, but not in a bad way, judging by the slight color on her cheek. She seems unable to fully meet Lupe's eyes, and lets out a nervous chuckle. Lupe smiles at her, easy, trying to ease her. It's been a while since she's dated what is essentially a baby gay, her own baby gay days seeming so far away too, so she needs to thread slowly, carefully.

“How's it going?’ Carson asks as they sit down.

Lupe shrugs, squinting her eyes at the sun, “Alright. Interesting. More challenging than I thought.”

Carson hums, “Yeah. It's nerve-wracking, isn't it?”

“You can say it.”

Lupe sighs under her breath, and looks at the ocean. She really wants to try but—what would she want, if she were here with someone she wanted to marry? Or at least be with?

But the truth is… she's tired. The place is beautiful, this show is an experience she'll likely never have again, but all she can think about is being at home. On the couch, having a smoke with Jess, yelling at the TV in front of a game, with her team around her, shooting the shit, and Veronica sitting on her lap, kissing her neck to get her attention. Laughter, booze and her people. Why did it have to be put into question?

“I miss home too,” Carson says, and Lupe turns to her in surprise. Did she say that out loud? Carson meets her eyes, “don't you?”

Damn her. “Yeah.” Lupe clears her throat, and looks back at the ocean and the approaching sunset. Hoping the topic will drop if she doesn't encourage it.

Carson does, in fact, not add anything else, but rather bumps her shoulder against Lupe's, hard enough to almost make her lose balance. Lupe glares at her, and retaliates. Carson laughs, and Lupe braces herself for more pushes, but what happens instead is Carson shuffling closer and leaning her head on Lupe's shoulder. Too stunned to move, Lupe holds her breath, waiting for another move, but Carson simply stays there. And watches the sunset.

After quite a few moments of a silence that turns from tenser to more peaceful, Lupe feels herself relaxing. Just a little. And, releasing a breath, she leans her head on Carson's.

The baby gay knows a thing or two, in the end. The date is nothing she'd been expecting based on their last interactions, it actually feels the closest thing to a real date she's had so far. Because it just… is. They don't talk about what is going on, their exes, marriage or plans to choose each other or not. They eat what's been prepared for them, and they laugh—Carson's sense of humor is definitely to be worked on—and walk on the beach. If it weren't for the ever present cameras following them, it could be just any day. Of some kind of relationship. Carson is definitely not Veronica, no hot spark ignites out of the blue, but it's still… nice. A few moments here and there even make Lupe want to take her hand. There's a range in Carson, then, it's not all talk. At this prospect, maybe Lupe could survive a few weeks with her without exploding by over self-reflecting. 

“Thanks,” Lupe says, as they're about to part, “for the date. I had… fun.”

Carson smiles by scrunching her nose, “Me too.”

And it's a bit easier to hug. What Lupe notices now is less the scent, and more the warmth of her. A good hugger for sure. Lupe's smile is genuine as she pulls away, “Don't worry, alright? I think it'll work out for you just fine.”

Carson, after a beat, nods, “Thanks for not bringing it up tonight. I really could not stand to talk about it again.”

“Oh yeah, right there with you,”

“So what are you gonna do? Got any idea by now?”

They technically can't reveal their cards to each other quite yet, but Lupe, if she's reading her right, sees some complicity in Carson's eyes. At this point, Lupe does hope it'll be her and not Greta. Lupe shrugs, hinting a smile on her face, “Yeah, kind of. Guess we'll see, though.”

“We sure will,” Carson says, with what's a very bad wink. Then she shakes herself off, “Goodnight, Lu,” and turns around.

Lupe waves at her. She remembers when Jess first called her that, and everybody started imitating them after that. The nickname makes the harsher identity that had been placed on Lupe softer, more approachable, like of someone who can belong in a group and not just be at the periphery of it, hated and judged. At the memory, Lupe's smile grows.

It's almost over, this introductory part. Lupe gives some more interviews here and there, trying to explain her thought process about this stage. It's a bit rambly, but hopefully she gets her point across.

Having made peace with her trial marriage fate by now, all she has to look forward to before the day of reckoning is, at least, her last date with Jess. 

Jess looks definitely more weary than last time as Lupe spots her at the counter of the chosen bar. When Jess notices her, though, ten times more brightness gets turned on on her face.

“Someone needs a drink or two,” Lupe quips, before they crash into a hug.

Jess laughs into her ear, and that's the perfect sound to start the evening with, “You can bet on it, hermano.”

They grab their first beers, and go find a booth in the corner. Blessedly, it's a smoking bar—thanks, producers—and Jess is lighting both of their cigarettes before Lupe knows it. The first drag is heavenly, there's nothing like sharing a smoke with your homey.

And Jess's moan about it is downright filthy, “Now that's the shit.”

Lupe laughs, loudly, fucking thankful for a normal night out. Finally. She studies Jess for another moment, then she adds, because she's feeling like a challenge, “I made out with Veronica the other night at the party. I would say it's against the rules, but they were filming us just fine.”

Jess snorts, rolling their eyes, “Why am I not surprised?”

There it is, that prickliness. “Why do you hate Veronica so much, uh? Did she break your pocket knife or something?”

Jess makes a face, and takes a swig of their beer before answering, “I don't hate her. If she had broken my knife you can bet your ass I would.”

Lupe keeps staring at them pointedly, quirking an eyebrow up in bullshit.

Jess tries to ignore her gaze, but finally relents, “For real. I don't. I think she's a really cool person. I just,” and they press a hand on their chest, “as your brother, have qualms about her.”

“You have… qualms about her.”

“Yeah, when it comes to her intentions with you.”

“Are you my father now?” Lupe chuckles darkly into her hand. Are they really only at the first drink? “Did she need to ask for your blessing first?”

“Ah ah, no,” Jess sticks their tongue at her, “she just needed to ask for yours, don't you think?”

Lupe makes a noise, like gagging. Jess is like a broken record. But tonight she feels weirdly amused by it, more than pissed. “Right, right, she did not think it through. Sue her.”

“You do it.”

“I won't.”

“Coward.”

“Asshole.”

It's getting ridiculous. Their laughter is undignified for the cameras, as they lean on top of each other, but hopefully they will cut this useless, inconsequential, unhinged date. They only got so much screen time after all.

“So are you sweet on some of your dates now?” Lupe asks, grinning stupidly.

“So you don't hate Emma, uh?” Jess pokes at her.

“I'm just asking, don't be so touchy,” Lupe sticks her tongue back, “Emma is fine for you. If you like those with a stick up their asses.”

“García,” Jess kicks her under the table, “she'll watch this, you know?”

“Lo siento,” Lupe raises her hands in surrender, but all she wants to do is laugh, fuck it all, “I meant those with… morals. Yes.”

“Or… molars?” Jess wiggles her eyebrows.

“Everybody’s got those, idiot.”

“But none are like hers.”

“You're so stupid.”

“Hey, you started it,” Jess leans closer, “and she's only a bit stiff because I stick it in her.”

Now they've done it. Emma sure won't like this sentence being broadcasted worldwide. But Lupe appreciates it for her too, and bursts out laughing, “Oh, now I see. Then you're not doing a good job, hermano.”

“Or I’m doing too good of a job?”

“Hmm, and she just can't take it anymore?” Lupe scratches her chin, “Yeah, maybe this is why she's bailing. Would rather someone more mediocre.”

And Jess gets a flash of soberness that makes her grimace, “God, we’re in trouble.”

Lupe winks at them, “Like always.”

Eventually, they do catch a grip. Or at least half of it. Not overindulging in a paid-for date is hard. But, to avoid being too sloppy on camera, they stop drinking, and get out for some fresh air. Walking on the pier, smoking in companionable silence, resobers them enough. That was needed, though. Lupe can't remember the last time she laughed so hard, but it can’t have been too long ago. She always laughs with Jess.

Jess bumps their shoulders together, a smile on their face, and Lupe smiles too, bumping back. Or it may just be drunk walk.

They both sigh as they sit on a bench facing the port, with boats gently rolling in the breeze. Lupe is ready to make a joke about Jess and boats, but the next breath Jess releases tells her they're on a different wavelength, confirmed by their words, “So what are you gonna do?”

Lupe takes a deeper breath, “I’ve got my choice,” she glances at Jess, who's looking back in interest, “it's not a usual one for me. But, I'm all for science, so. It should be interesting.”

“And how is it different?” Jess is entirely too serious about it. Playtime is over.

“She's… a good listener. Weird sense of humor. Not exactly my usual type,” Lupe shrugs, “Is all into marriage as a rivendication or something.”

Jess hums, “I think I know who it is. But I meant, how is it different for you?”

Lupe shrugs again, “We had some good conversations, I felt like I could be fairly honest with her about who I am. We had some nice times. I think it may be… chill. Right now, it’s what I want, to be honest.”

Jess nods in understanding, “That could be good for you.”

Lupe nods too, her eyes on the boats.

“Or don't you think so?”

Lupe shrugs for the third time.

Jess bumps their shoulders against hers again, “Come on, shoot.”

Lupe frowns, “What?”

Jess looks at her pointedly, but there it is, that soft gaze again, “You can be honest with me, Lu.”

Yeah, she guesses she can. A second ago, Lupe thought there was nothing more to this whole ordeal that she needed to say, but here it is, bubbling up to the surface. Wanting to come out. For just a second, Lupe thinks of the cameras, hates it, but what else can she do about it.

“I just,” she swallows, and slumps back on the bench, “I still have no idea what the hell is going on. Veronica pulled that rag from under me, and now she's all over the place. I don't get what she wants,” she catches Jess's eye, “or what I want, at this point. Maybe you're right, I should just break up with her if we’re not on the same page anymore.”

She sees it, the flash in Jess's eye, like they're happy to hear it, of course they are, but they don't say anything.

Lupe goes on, “And sure, I can try this thing with Car—with this person,” Jess bites back a smile at the slip up, and Lupe snorts, before continuing, “but I still think, what can living with someone I just met do ? If it's really about figuring out marriage, then it's impossible to tell. I don't know her, she doesn't know me.” Lupe sighs, frustrated, “If it doesn't matter, like Veronica told me before we fucking came here, then okay, whatever, this is all a waste of my fucking time anyway. But if it does matter—”

Out of the blue, a hand appears in her field of vision, namely Jess's, which grabs her forearm firmly. Lupe looks at it, then at Jess's face, in confusion. Jess has a new look in their eyes, like a lightbulb has just gone off, “Let’s do it.”

What are they on about now? Jess's plans are either wildly correct, or a nightmare. “Do what, McCready?”

“This trial marriage thing,” Jess says, and yep, here comes the wildness, “you and me.”

Lupe can only laugh, “Sure, yeah.”

“No, I'm being for real, think about it,” Jess's grip slides down to her wrist, “it's perfect. I know you, Lu,” yeah, they've established they do, but— “so who better than me can show you—’

“What? Your moves?”

Jess catches Lupe’s amused, suggestive gaze, and they duck their head in embarrassment, shoving her for good measure, “Come on, not like that. I mean, you say I'm a good partner, right? So let me be that for you, let me show you what I mean when I say you deserve better.”

“Oh, so that better is you, uh?’ Lupe can't take this seriously, the idea is just too preposterous, “What about your wife prospects you've been seeing all week? They'll be counting on you.”

“Lu,” Jess lets her wrist go, and Lupe's skin feels much colder all of a sudden, “you know I don't care about that. You see? I already know who I want to marry, so I don't need a trial marriage. I can help you figure out what you want, though.”

Hey, that was Lupe's plan. Jess always got to outdo her, uh? Jess is being serious, and now Lupe's mouth is wide open. “And you want to do that by proposing we role play?”

“Well, sure,” Jess huffs out a laugh, then winks, “I can be anything you want, baby.”

“You're sure something,” Lupe doesn't know what else to say, laughter is still bubbling in her, even if she can already feel herself kindof... hoping for this new, unexpected option, “Are you… would you really be down for that?”

"Yeah, of course,’ Jess's smile gets crooked, “we’re in this together, right? And our girlfriends will be reassured too. They won't have to worry about someone else snatching us.”

Why is this making more and more sense? It shouldn't. This would be the cop-out of all cop-outs. They could've just done this at home. Yet, when would they really have the chance? They can settle the… argument. For real. On who's right about the right partner for Lupe.

“I hadn’t thought about that,” Lupe munches on her lips, her eyebrows raised so high she barely feels them anymore. As she thinks seriously about it.

Then she meets Jess's eyes, full of promise and companionship. There's nobody she trusts more than Jess... so it's not long before some kind of relief starts flooding her entire system. It's, fuck it, who cares? This show needs to work for her, doesn't it? So she'll be making her own choice.

Soon, she's smiling so hard her face hurts, “Then you’ll have to bring your A-game, McCready. I’m not easily won.”

And Jess smirks, “We’ll see about that, hermano.”

Are they crazy? Is it the worst idea they've ever had? Well, the producers greenlight it, so they're not going against the rules, technically. And she won't need to feel too guilty about disappointing Carson, because she’ll know Lupe chose somebody else already. It’s unavoidable, it’s not like the producers can really leave the choice to the moment of the choice, because what if people cross-choose each other and there are no perfect matches? No, everything gets arranged beforehand.

And it truly may be the best decision. Jess. She should’ve seen it from the start. Jess is constantly nagging at her about raising her standards, so now they can finally put their money where their mouth is. It’s still a hilarious thought, certainly. The two of them, causing mayhem for three weeks as they try to be fake-married. But it's all for a serious purpose. Obviously.

They won’t get sidetracked at all.

Lupe gets ready for the choice dinner with slightly shaking hands. Why? It should be easy, right? Hers is the safest of choices, one that even Veronica won’t be able to complain about. It’s just for pretend, but she may figure out why everybody is so into marriage if she’s got the romantic fool number one teaching her.

Lupe cackles, looking at herself in the mirror as she does the buttons of her jacket—just a few of them. She looks hot, if she says so herself. She’s got a gray jacket on top of a black shirt, her hair gelled up to give some form to her curls, and she looks slick as fuck. It’ll be easy, and it will be fun to watch the drama unfold between the other couples.

Let’s do this, then.

It’s sure going to look grand on camera. The setup is quite something, a big table in a brightly lit room, around which the carnage will happen in HD. Lupe catches Jess’s eyes, looking quite dapper too, and they grin at each other covertly.

Lupe gets placed on the opposite side from Jess, and from Veronica, who are respectively just right and left from the spot right in front of Lupe, which is occupied by Esther. Good buffer for the two of them. On Veronica’s other side there’s Carson, and that is… not weird at all. On Jess’s other side there’s Jo, and now that is convenient.

On either side of Lupe, on the other hand, there are Max and Greta, which is also a setting she can live with. Next to Greta, there’s Emma, which is definitely convenient for Lupe too, to have that distance. Finally, Flo is sitting next to Max.

Overall, a well thought out seating plan, kudos to the producers. Ex-partners are all in line of sight, and, by the same logic, maybe the new ones too. Lupe’s curiosity is rising. Hmm, if Max is on this side, will she choose Veronica? The two of them could fit right up. Little Max better keep her hands to herself for the next few weeks, though.

“Ah, how nice to see you all together again,” Vi says, sitting at the head of the table next to Flo and Carson. She claps her hands once, and beams, “who’s excited?”

Laughter bubbles up throughout the entire table. Yeah, excited is not exactly the word Lupe has in mind. What had Carson said? Yes, nerve-wracking, that’s what this is.

“Tonight,” Vi goes on, and now her voice gets that richer, presenter-quality again, “is the time to make a choice. Each of you will choose who they want to spend the next three weeks with, in a trial marriage that will test your convictions, your desiders, your ability to commit to a partner.” Vi squares them all, and Lupe sees a few throats bobbing, her own included. “After that, we’ll reconvene, and talk about how that experience was. Finally, everybody will get back to their original partner, and spend three more weeks together, before the final choice will take place.” The mood has gotten somber, alright. Having it all spelled out again like this, it makes it all the more real. “The final choice will either see you get engaged to your original partner, be with the new one, or leave from here alone.”

Well, shit. No. Those are definitely not the only options, come on . One can leave with their original partner, but not engaged, thank you very much. Because nobody will come to their actual houses to enforce a marriage after all this is over. Tsk.

Lupe doesn’t meet Veronica’s eyes, though. She can feel her girlfriend's gaze on her, and quite intently too. But this is not the time to talk to her, is it? Lupe will, hopefully, know what to say to her in three weeks' time.

“Max, you want to start?” Vi says, “Who do you choose?”

Max audibly clears her throat, and her chair scratches as she pulls it back to stand up. The silence, besides the sounds of breathing and all the machinery around, is deafening. Lupe gives Max the grace not to stare at her, there are already enough eyes on her.

“I’ve dated very interesting and fascinating people this past week,” Max says, all her nervousness seeping through her voice, “and I thought I would be more into some than others, but—I definitely appreciate every moment I’ve spent with, uhm, Veronica,” knew it, “and Emma.”

Got both of their girlfriends, uh? Little Max. Lupe sees the soft smiles on Emma’s and Veronica’s faces, and, by contrast, Esther’s tight lips, her eyes fixed on the table. Jess looks curiously at Emma.

“But,” Max goes on, and she starts gaining more confidence as she speaks, “I’ve found a surprising connection… in Carson,” Jeez . “It’s not exactly romantic, but we understand each other on so many levels, and I really think that together we can figure out a lot. As we both have similar ideas on marriage, we can be that committed partner for each other.” Burn. Lupe catches Greta’s hands gripping her pants tight. “That’s why I choose her. Carson, that is.”

Carson hitting the jackpot, uh? Good for her. This is kind of what Lupe would’ve said, if she’d chosen her. Now, she’s glad she didn’t and left the road open for these two romantic fools to cry together about their girlfriends not wanting to marry them.

Lupe coughs to hide her snort. This is a serious matter. Right. All that’s missing is popcorn, for Christ’s sake.

Max sits down, and Carson stands up, smiling brightly, “Thank you, Max. I couldn’t agree more. I’ve also had amazing dates with two other, very different people, and I feel already so much more enriched from this experience,” suck-up . Oh wait, she’s looking at Lupe, “Lu, I think you’re a great person, with a big heart. I’m sure you’ll figure out what you want, if that’s marriage or not. You deserve to feel at ease in your home.”

Lupe’s chest tightens. That was really an unnecessary sentence, in front of everyone. In front of Veronica. She feels at ease in her home already, with Veronica. But, for propriety’s sake, she grins at Carson, and nods in thanks. She does not meet Veronica’s burning eyes.

“And you, Flo,” Carson continues, and now that's intereating. But makes sense. Flo is kind of similar to Greta, “we already knew each other thanks to our… exes, but I enjoyed this opportunity to speak to you and get to know you better. I really, really think it’ll also work out for you.”

Flo nods, says softly, “Thanks, Carson.”

“But ultimately,” Carson says, “I agree with Max. We are the most aligned, in terms of how we see marriage and what we want to work on in the next few weeks. So, yes, Max, I choose you too.”

Carson and Max share a smile, then Carson sits back down.

The tension hikes up immediately, as Vi looks at the two exes. Carson and Max look at them too.

Esther notices it, and shrugs, but who is she kidding, “Good for them. Really. They can figure out a lot in their own echo chamber, I’m sure.”

Christ.

“And this is ironic,” Esther goes on, standing up and looking at Greta intently, “because I’ve made the same choice. Greta, I choose you. We also have the same view on marriage, so I’m really curious to see if it makes for a relationship I would actually want. Sometimes, when the differences are too big, it just does not work.”

Holy shit. Max’s and Carson’s face fall entirely, as Greta squares her shoulders, and stands up too. “Yes, I choose you too. However,” Greta sighs, “my aim was not to be in an echo chamber. Since we have the same grievances around marriage, maybe only we can ease each other’s worries. A no bullshit approach. But I do,” and at that, she looks at Carson, “want to ease them.”

Carson blinks rapidly at Greta, her eyes huge, her lips quivering. She must see enough in Greta's eyes to hold on to, though, because she nods. 

Esther sighs too, and looks at Max, “Yeah. Maybe a backwards approach, both of us, but nothing like being faced with your own reflection, right?”

Max, taking a deep breath, smiles at Esther, “We all do what we gotta do.”

So that’s... settled? Holy crap. This is priceless. Lupe was expecting this kind of shit, but nothing like seeing it unfold in front of her eyes. Very glad to have put herself out of the hit zone from these four’s drama.

Esther and Greta sit down, still Lupe is not prepared for Vi to address her, “Lupe, what about you?”

Great. 

She stands up, got no choice about that. And this time she does meet Veronica’s very curious eyes, just briefly, before she quickly scans the rest of the table to avoid them. Jess’s face is neutral, but their eyes are supportive. The rest are just just as eager for the drama as Lupe was.

“I went for both ultimatum giver and receiver,” she starts off with, “for the variety, you know. You’ll forgive me for not being as eloquent as the others.” Some chuckle, while Jess shakes their head, in fondness.

That prompts her to go on, “So first of all, I want to thank Carson,” she nods at her, “and Greta,” then at her. She catches the amused look Carson and Greta send each other, like really? That’s slightly offensive, “you both gave me two valuable perspectives, but it made me realize that I would rather try it out with an ultimatum giver, otherwise I’d never get out of my own head. I almost chose Carson,” might as well be honest, “but then I realized that, well, how do I put it,” Lupe chooses to look at Vi, “I’m not an easy—I need time to really connect with a person, so if I want to really understand if this marriage thing is for me, I can’t do it with a stranger, no offense to anybody.”

She scans the people at the table again, “So you all may not agree with my decision, but… I choose Jess.” And, finally, she looks at them. Jess is smiling already, and Lupe smiles at them too, “You all know by now they’re my best friend, but exactly because of this, we talked it out and—”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Lupe recoils, her heart jumping in her throat in surprise at that loudness. Now she’s got no choice but to look at Veronica, who’s staring at her like she’s gone mad. Veronica looks mad, her eyes and nose blown out of proportions, morphing her face, Lupe would like to say in an unfamiliar way, but it’s all too familiar to her. Why the fuck did she get like this now?!

Lupe makes a face at her, “What the fuck, babe?”

Veronica’s mouth opens and closes, her jaw clenched in a way that looks like it hurts, so that Esther and Carson next to her stare at her in shock and worry, “What the fuck, you ask? What the fuck you! How can you do this—no, I should’ve known you would do this!”

“What the hell are you on about?!” Here it is, one of their screaming matches on camera. In front of everybody. It was a matter of time, she knew it. Still, this time she really has done nothing wrong to deserve it! “I thought you’d be happy! I know Jess the best, they can help me more than the rest—”

“Fucking incredible, I can’t fucking believe you,” Veronica keeps muttering, like she’s not even listening. Like usual.

“Hey, I’m doing this for you, you know?” Lupe knows her voice has risen, but nothing she can do about that, “For us! So I really don’t understand what your problem is now.”

“Ah! For us?” Veronica is looking more and more unexplainably wild. She points a finger, first at Lupe, and then at Jess, “Don’t you realize that 99% of our problems are because of Jess?”

Lupe’s brain stutters, more confused by the second. The group around them looks stunned as well as they watch their match, even Vi doesn’t seem to know what to say. Lupe takes a breath, and tries to speak more calmly, “Again, what the fuck are you on about? Jess? My best friend?”

Lupe dares glancing at Jess, who’s frowning hard at Veronica, just as confused as Lupe. Much more mad, though. Jess is not a fan of their screaming matches.

Vi clears her throat, “Ladies, please, maybe we’re going a bit off track here…”

But Veronica ignores her, and says, mockingly, “Yes, your best friend, Lupe.”

Before Lupe can rebut, a new voice joins in, quietly, but firm enough that it catches everybody’s attention. “Veronica,” both Lupe and Veronica, as well as everybody else, turn to Emma, whose face is a mask as she stares at Veronica, “don’t.”

Lupe looks back at Veronica too, who’s glaring at Emma, “No. It must be said.”

Emma shakes her head, “Don’t say it.”

What the fuck is going on?

“What,” Lupe breathes out again, “do you have to say, uh, Veronica?” A dangerous question to ask, but Veronica started this mess, and she’s gotta finish it.

Veronica does seem to deflate a little. She crosses her arms, her chest rising and falling fast, as she looks around the room, maybe remembering where she is for the first time.

But, as she stares at the stunned faces, the heat comes back in her eyes, which she points straight at Lupe again, “You wanna know what I think?” She presses her lips together for a moment, still holding back, but then she releases them and her tone gets mocking again, “I think that you’re in love with your fucking best friend.”

Now that does it. Lupe lets out a laugh all in one quick burst, “What?”

“Don’t you what me!” Veronica bites back, “Or do you think I’m that stupid? You think I don’t see how you are with them? How you—you braid their hair , or—or how many times I find you two cuddling on my couch! Every day when I wake up I don’t need to look up the weather forecast, but the Jess forecast! Will their mood today allow me to be with my girlfriend or not?!”

Lupe’s brain has still not fully caught up with what is going on, but her body is well on its way. It starts feeling colder, and colder, all the way from the tip of her toes to the top of her spine. Never, ever would she have imagined Veronica to be this callous, this cruel, “Are you fucking kidding me? As if you’re not close with your friends, uh? You can go have girls’ nights out or sleepovers or fucking spa days with them, but I can’t have a best friend?!”

“Oh, I’m not half as close with my girlfriends as you are with Jess,” Veronica says, “if you gave me half as much attention as you give them, we’d be golden! Why don’t you tell everyone where you spent our last anniversary, uh?”

The stutter has reached Lupe's mouth too, and it takes a minute to formulate one short sentence to defend herself, “J—Jess was sick!”

“And Christmas?”

This is getting fucking ridiculous. “Jess invited us both to Moose Jaw, you could've come too! Baby, come on, you can't be ser—”

"Oh, I've never been more serious! I really believe that if during our wedding Jess had a problem, you would run away from that fucking aisle!"

“Will you fucking stop?” Jess’s voice appears for the first time, as sharp and angry as they look. Their eyes are all for Veronica, “Do you want attention this much to come up with such bullshit?” Jess gestures at the cameras, “Don’t you have enough? Do you really enjoy hurting Lupe so much?”

“Ah, there they are, the knight in shining armor,” has Veronica’s voice always sounded so venomous? Her eyes are shooting daggers at Jess, “don’t you think you’re so innocent. As if you haven’t been the root of every significant argument Lupe and I have ever had. As if you aren’t jealous of me.”

“Jealous? Of you?” Jess tsks, “I am the one Lupe goes to when you treat her like shit. And I'm sick and tired of that, you're just a spoiled, entitled—”

“Jess,” Lupe begs, fucking begs, “please.”

Jess catches themselves, grinding their teeth to shut up, but the continuation of that thought is written on their face.

Lupe sits down, she can’t believe she managed to stay standing for so long. The room is spinning, her throat has started to burn, and nothing makes sense anymore. This isn't really happening, the words, such preposterous words, aren't really being spoken.

Veronica and Jess are still glaring at each other, Esther, in the middle, looking like she’d rather the floor swallow her whole. Which Lupe couldn't agree with more.

But somehow, she manages to catch her breath, her bearings, and almost sound human as she speaks again, “Veronica. Why the hell,” no, let’s start over, “if you had such thoughts, why didn't you tell me any other time, and not bring it here, in front of these poor bastards?”

Greta makes a sound of appreciation at the acknowledgment, mixed in with her second-hand embarrassment. 

While Veronica’s eyes, as she looks back at Lupe, start filling with tears. She tries to blink them away, but her voice still catches, “I didn't, ever, wanna bring it up. I didn't want it to be real. But then you go and choose them again, when this is supposed to be about our marriage.”

“Well, it is,” Lupe says, unable to stop the frustration from spilling through, “Jess has only ever been my friend, my family. You knew it from day one. There's nothing more to it. I'm choosing them as my friend, for fuck’s sake.” She slams her hand on the table, hard, she can't help it. Huffing, she leans back on her chair, truly fucking done. A bomb has just gone off on her face, give her a break.

“And, if we remember why we’re here,” Jess says, crossly, but determinately, “I was about to say that I choose Lupe too. Because I said I’d help her, and I don't have any other reason to want a trial marriage, since I know, I’ve known who I want to marry, and I don’t change my mind easily.” And at that, she turns to Emma, a mix of confusion, disappointment and annoyance on her face, “Why did you—do you also think that I, what, have feelings for Lupe?” She scoffs, highlighting the same incredulousness Lupe feels. Inviting Emma to share in it.

The silence lasts for a few long, tense, terrible moments in which the whole room holds its breath, as the attention switches on Emma, and her stony face.

She and Jess may not have fighting matches, but they sure know how to do a staring one. Finally, Emma says, simply, “Yes, Jess. I do think so.”

The betrayal, the disbelief in Jess's eyes is almost too much for Lupe to take, yet Emma stays stoic in the face of it. 

Or not so stoic. She swallows, closes her eyes for a moment. Then, “I was in denial for a long time, but it's becoming more and more obvious. Like what you said the other day, Lupe,” Lupe, landing back on Earth, turns to Emma, still not quite fully computing, “remember?” Emma laughs bitterly, “You told me I'd be making a mistake if I let someone so caring, loving, good-hearted go, right?”

Lupe, for lack of a better option, nods. Yeah, she said that. And she stands by that. That’s who Jess is, Jess who isn't in love with her, but with Emma, who they've asked to fucking marry them.

“Well,” Emma shakes her head, “sure, they may be that to you. They are that with you. But to me, I spend most of the time chasing them. Scrambling for even a fraction of that fucking consideration.”

Lupe blinks, hard, glimpsing at Jess, visibly pained, and how much they don't deserve that. That isn't true. It’s not. Jess is like that with everybody, if Emma can't see that—

“And the worst part,” Emma is facing Jess again “is that you don’t even notice ,” and there's the catch in her voice. “This is all news to you, isn't it?” Jess averts their eyes, “Well, I'm not surprised, since you’re all caught up in your little baseball world with Lupe, and then you wonder why I’m hesitating to marry you.”

Jess sinks their teeth in their bottom lip, and a beat passes, then two, before they loudly draw their chair back, get up, and start walking away from the table.

Lupe, albeit still stunned, needs no more than another beat to stand up too, and not even Veronica's, “Don’t you dare!” can stop her from following Jess. She doesn't know what she's going to say, she may be making the situation worse, but this is the foundation of who they are—they stand by each other through thick and thin, and this is no different.

“Jess, Jess, wait,” she calls for them in the darker backstage, cameras still fucking following them, but she can't care about them right now.

Jess, thankfully, stops, pressing their back against a wall, taking their face in their hands. Their breath coming out in jerky puffs.

All Lupe knows is that she needs to fix this.

“Hey, hey,” Lupe says, panting a little as she comes up in front of Jess, careful not to get too close or touch them, “it's gonna be okay. They got it wrong, how could we know if they never told us what they thought? But we can prove it to them now, with this trial. I know it. We have done nothing wrong, Jess.”

She doesn't know where this resolution is coming from, by all accounts she should be running for the hills and never set foot on this program again. But now she's pissed. Really pissed. Not in an explosive way, but like lava, bubbling under the surface, burning hot. Their own girlfriends have accused them of something so unbelievably twisted that Lupe can't not step up to the challenge. For herself, but especially for Jess.

“I’m in if you're in, hermano,” she says, “otherwise, we go home, and figure it out anyway.”

Something seems to finally seep through to Jess, because they pull their hands down enough for Lupe to meet their gaze, much redder than before. Lupe's stays steady.

“I don't know how I can go back in there,” Jess admits, strained, “that's just too fucking unfair.”

“Yeah, it is,” Lupe says, “I can't fucking believe them. But it reflects on them, not us.”

Jess seems to finally be breathing slower, and they lower their arms fully, pressing them against the wall. They meet Lupe's gaze, even as their head is pressed back against the wall, and Lupe sees in it the encouragement to place her hands on Jess's shoulders, pressing hard. Steady. They're experts at calming each other down at this point, practiced during particularly tough games, when everything becomes just a bit too overwhelming, and they flip flop between freaking out about it. Jess closes their eyes, and takes deeper breaths, in tandem with Lupe. No words are needed. In the end, Jess straightens themselves and comes off the wall.

“Fuck,” Jess breathes out. She glances at the crew and cameras around them, and tries to smooth the fly away hairs on their head.

“You can say it,” Lupe chuckles. She's surprised of herself, that she's not the one freaking out. Maybe she's just too flabbergasted, outraged enough to have flown right past it, and circled back to some weird-ass confidence. Yeah, that's it, that accusation is too straight up absurd to even take it seriously.

“You're right,” Jess says in the end, “they can't accuse us of something so… shitty like this, and expect us, what, to bow down? We know the truth. Everybody will know it too when we're done with this shit.”

Now Lupe feels the cold sweat coating her whole body. Once again, what has she signed up for? But one thing has happened that never should have, that nobody should've dared to do—put into question, soil her bond with Jess. And that's not something she can let pass.

“Vamos, hermano,” Lupe says, with a grin that would rival any other, “Mostremosle a esta gente con quién están tratando.”

After a beat, Jess's teeth shine under the one artificial light pointed at them, “Puedes contar con ello.”

The table is not as silent as she thought as they get back to it. She hears the echo of Max’s words well before they enter, “Have you ever considered that Lupe would rather spend her time with Jess because Jess is tolerable to be around?”

Et tu, Max?

“Excuse me!?” Veronica says, and it sounds like she’s been crying, but now the anger is back.

“I’m just saying, you brought Lupe on this show to give her an ultimatum, but from how much you complained about her to me, you don’t seem to even like her… why’d you ask her to marry you?”

Lupe speeds up, glancing at Jess, affronted at Max’s nerve, but Jess is making a well face, of course. Lupe hits her arm, shaking her head, before they part ways to go to their respective seats.

“Thank you, Max,” Lupe tells her as she sits down, “I'll take it from here.”

Max recoils for a second, but she doesn’t back away, merely nods at her.

Lupe looks at Vi, who's looking rather frazzled, “I’m sorry about all this, I apologize to you and everyone.”

“Yeah,” Jess echoes.

Veronica tsks.

When Vi nods at her, gesturing for her to continue, Lupe rounds on Veronica. Calmly. As calm as she can. “It's clear there's been a… big misunderstanding, but it's something that can be easily solved. Jess and I stand by our choice to do the trial together.”

Veronica stares at her in disbelief, opens her mouth—

“If you have anything to say about that,” Lupe rushes to say, “we can talk about it when it's our time.”

She and Veronica get caught in a staring match now. It's a different kind of fight, but no less real, judging by all the daggers she receives, the betrayal, the disappointment and still more than a hint of mockery. She will have to have many words with Veronica when it's their turn.

“Very well,” Veronica says in the end, even if it doesn't sound like anything is well, “you go be married to Jess. Scratch that itch, if you really have to,” fucking— “but we both know who you'll be going home with at the end of this.”

Again, this isn't remotely about this. The choice isn't about Jess or Veronica, but Veronica or not Veronica! Lupe opens her mouth to restate it, re-defend herself, but you know what? She's done for tonight. Well and truly done. “Think whatever you want. I’m done talking.”

“Typical,” Veronica matters under her breath. Lupe hears it loud and clear, and so must've had anybody else.

But Vi intervenes, “This has been a difficult moment for everybody, I’m sure of it. I’m glad we have come to a resolution. Jess and Emma, you have anything else to say?”

Lupe turns her head to the side, almost dreading it. And in fact, both Jess and Emma look made of marble, very angry marble. Judging by the look they send each other, they've already been having their own silent conversation.

“No,” Jess says, “everything will be dealt with privately from now on,” well, “or, you know what I mean.”

Vi nods. “Thank you. I’m sure this… misunderstanding will soon be something you'll laugh about.”

Wouldn’t that be something.

“Finally, we have two couples left to be formed. I hate to address you again, but, Veronica, who do you choose then?”

Lupe releases all her breath, as at this point, being done and all, she doesn't care. She truly doesn't. And she only half listens as Veronica chooses Flo, of all people. She would've thought Jo any day, but Veronica says something like, “We both know what we deserve, and we won't settle for less.”

Great. Have at it.

All that are left are Emma and Jo, who actually say some very nice words about each other. Lupe pays attention a fraction more only for Jess's sake. Jo shares a look with Jess before she stands up, and Jess nods at her, giving their blessing.

It's still a blow, for Jess, Lupe sees it on their tight face, hearing Jo sing Emma's praises. And, worse, Emma sing Jo's as a sweet, committed, reliable person she can envision by her side.

This night better be over already. There's nothing more to say. This could've been a much easier night than this, but Lupe will be careful with her thoughts from now on. It did turn out to be a carnage.

Finally, everybody stands up, and couple by couple gets out of the room, walking along the patio outside for a more important, first look shoot. Lupe walks around to the back of the table instead, to be the last. Jess walks up next to her, but they don't look at each other.

Only when they're mostly alone, their eyes meet. God, what a mess. There's a sadness in Jess's eyes that Lupe knows must be in hers too, but this is not how she wants it to be. She firmly believes they made the right choice.

Lupe grins, and presents her arm to Jess, “Shall we, hermano?”

Jess opens up in a small, grateful smile, and links their arms together, “We shall, Lu.”

Chapter Text

They enter what will be their apartment for the next three weeks, and Lupe is barely able to admire it. She’s still reeling from everything that’s happened. And boy, did everything happen.

In the van that brought them here, she and Jess stayed firmly side by side, their heads held high, like a single unit. But now, as the door closes behind them, even with the people filming them, they both release an audible breath. Jess, without a word, dashes to grab the bottle of champagne on the kitchen island, and pours two glasses. Almost half-way.

Lupe chuckles, grateful, and takes the one Jess hands to her. They’re leaning on either side of the island, as they make their glasses touch with a satisfying clink. 

“To us,” Lupe says, “the best friends this show has ever seen.”

Jess snorts lightly, a half-assed attempt, “Fucking hell.”

They chug their champagne glasses, both grimacing as they put them back down. It’s not their drink of choice for sure, but some bubbles are sorely needed.

Because Lupe would like this night to be over, yet it’s everything but. The camera crew will stay with them through their whole first night as newlyweds, up until they get to bed.

Newlyweds. Shit. With the accusations that have been hurled at them, what was supposed to be an innocent role-play, has now become a charged word. A charged situation. They need to mind their every step. They can’t even, what, cuddle without somebody believing they’ve got feelings for each other?

Jess may be having the same trail of thought, because their eyes meet, and all that’s happened seem to crash on top of them at the same time. Jess slumps back against the kitchen counter, as Lupe buries her face in her propped up hands on the island.

“How long have they been harboring this?” Lupe asks, into the void more than anything. To the fucking universe. “Both of them, not even one. How long have our girlfriends been judging us, misconstruing our every interaction, behind our fucking backs?”

“I don’t fucking know,” Jess says, and their anger is sure back, “I—I’ve been asking Emma for the past months why she was hesitating, and she gave me only vague, half-assed answers. I would’ve preferred she told me what was really on her mind in private and not on fucking television. I would’ve put her doubts to rest already!”

Lupe hums, feeling herself get fired up too, “Yeah, it makes no sense. You think your partner is basically emotionally cheating, and you say nothing? They’ve stayed with us anyway, haven’t they? So how can they expect us to have known what was wrong?”

“Yeah, it’s—it’s just immature as fuck. They’ve dropped a bomb on us, and now everybody will think they’re right! Do you, guys?” Jess, unexpectedly, addresses the camera crew, including the director that has been assigned to them.

The people, as a matter of fact, all turn towards the director for instructions on what to do. The director is a tough-looking older woman, with short hair and a focused expression. She’s called Beverly or something. 

Beverly clears her throat, “We are not here to be the judge of anything, just the witnesses. The rest is up to you.”

Jess scoffs, a little, while Lupe nods, defeated. 

“I will say, though,” Beverly adds, and there’s just a hint of a softer tone in her voice, “that it’s hard to mask the truth when being filmed for so long. So don’t worry about it, your truth will shine through for everybody to see, no matter what others say.”

That should be reassuring, but Lupe’s stomach tightens anyway. She doesn’t like being so exposed, that people will be scrutinizing her, reading her more than she’d like to be read. She can already imagine the comments the people will make.

“Let’s just,” Jess says, and Lupe looks at them with some kind of desperate hope. The only anchor she’s got in all of this, looking back at her with a reassuring smile, “call it a day, yeah? Tomorrow is a new day. We’ll figure it out, Lu.”

And Lupe releases another breath, closing her eyes for a second. She nods. There's nothing she would like more.

As they walk to the—their—bedroom, Jess places a hand on her shoulder, rubbing it gently, and Lupe smiles at them in gratefulness. She’s so tired that she can only go through the motions on autopilot, grabbing the suitcase that had already been brought here and searching messily for her pajamas inside. She is so tired that she’s already forgotten about the cameras, not just the filming ones, but the hidden ones in every corner that they’ve been warned about. So she throws her jacket unceremoniously on a chair, and starts undoing the button of her shirt right here in the middle of the room.

Jess grabs her elbow, and Lupe looks blearily at them. Only when Jess nods towards the camera in the top-left corner of the room does she remember, and, huffing, she stops and lowers her arms, “Christ.”

Jess is chuckling behind her as Lupe picks up, crossly, her pajamas and goes to change in the closet. Fucking great. If she thought this home would be a relaxing place, it sure will not.

They’re everywhere. Even when she and Jess are brushing their teeth side by side in the bathroom, those fucking lenses are pointed at them. She can’t resent the people, it’s their job, but… jesucristo. 

And, worse, the moment Lupe had been most looking forward to, namely getting in bed and passing out for the next eight hours, turns out to be the most awkward of all. Because it is, normally, not. She and Jess have shared a bed many times, not only on away-games, but at Jess’s home in Moose Jaw, or on vacations, or… most anywhere, really. And they do cuddle, alright? But where is it written that friends can’t cuddle? It’s platonic. The most platonic affection possible.

So, automatically, as they settle under the covers, Lupe turns towards Jess to lean her head on their shoulder, and wrap her arm around their middle—but she aborts the motion half-way. As she remembers. That Veronica apparently doesn’t like it, is jealous of it. Emma too. God help them. Lupe ends up turning on her back, and merely touching her head to Jess’s shoulder instead of leaning on it.

Jess clears their throat, as their arm, it’s too late to avoid it, is already circling Lupe’s shoulders. It’s an uncomfortable, half-bitten position then, the one they find themselves in. In all ways. They try to act casual, as if this is perfectly normal, as if they meant to stay like this, and they’re not disappointed at having to be apart. Because they’re just friends, nothing more.

Which they are, for fuck’s sake. See, it’s already fucking with Lupe's head. With that accusation playing on a loop in her brain she just knows that they’ll end up looking suspicious. As if she and Jess are… secretly fucking or something. Or worse, in love. Which they absolutely are not.

So Lupe pats Jess’s chest with the back of her hand, and, more loudly, entirely casually, says, “Well, goodnight, Jess,” before shifting fully away, turning on her stomach instead, adjusting the pillow under her to be able to hug it and rest her head on it. Facing Jess.

Jess shifts around too, kicking the covers to their legs, as they are a furnace at night, then turns to their side, facing Lupe. And Lupe realizes another condemning detail—what they’re wearing. Lupe has at least a t-shirt on top of her boxers, while Jess is in just a skimpy white tank top, their small tits and nipples visible underneath. Their naked legs are mere inches away from touching.

They’re just comfortable with each other, okay? Anybody would be, after so many years of friendship. All of this is a non-issue, they’ve seen each other naked many times too, yet it’s never landed them in bed in that way. So, clearly, there’s nothing more going on here. Sure, she can admit that Jess is not bad to look at, but there’s also the obvious fact that they’re not each other’s type. Come on, that’s lesbian relationships 101. There are the lovers, and then there are the bros. Two non-crossing sides. 

Jess, in the end, grins at her, as if they’re also feeling the ridiculousness of this entire situation. And it’s not fair, to be on edge when there is no actual need to be, “Goodnight, Lu.”

Lupe huffs a laugh, and smiles, closing her eyes. Hoping that it will prompt the camera crew to—

“Alright, we’ve got enough,” Beverly says, thank fucking God, “goodnight, love birds. Remember the hidden cameras, they can pick up most anything.”

What is she implying? Didn’t she say she’s not here to make assumptions? Yet here she goes, calling them love birds. And, in a suggestive tone, thinly telling them not to fuck on camera…

“Thank you, goodnight,” Jess tells them, and Lupe is prompted to imitate them, “Yeah, goodnight.”

They stay perfectly still and silent, as they hear the crew packing up in the living room and, finally, finally, leaving them alone. Or as alone as they can be.

Jess releases a long breath, “Jesus christ.” 

“You can say it,” Lupe grumbles. It’s not like they can express more than that, or shift closer again. Lupe does want to complain about the director’s comments, but for some reason she can’t even whisper it. What would be the point, at this late hour? To ask Jess, do we act too much like a couple?

Better leave it to another day, when they’re fully conscious. They’ve got plenty of time to discuss a plan of action to make it up to their girlfriends.

“Hey,” Jess whispers, pressing their knee against Lupe’s thigh for just one second, “we’re the best team, aren’t we?”

Lupe can only open up in a smile at that. It’s what they ask each other before every game, a ritual reserved just for the two of them. Lupe answers like she always does, “You can bet your ass we are.”

Well. If she can keep her distance while conscious, she should’ve expected that her unconscious self would not be as smart. Lupe wakes up, or starts to, with her face pressed against a sweaty neck, breathing in a familiar scent, with her arm wrapped around a warm body, and her legs tangled with theirs. She knows perfectly well, even half-awake, that it’s not Veronica, it’s just a too different feeling, one that can only belong to her hermano. It’s all so normal and familiar that nothing reads as out of the ordinary to her. Just another time sharing a bed with Jess, only the reason escapes her.

Jess is far too hot and sweaty, though, so Lupe groans and, hating it, disentangles herself to turn the other way and lay on the cooler side of the bed. However, it’s not long before a pair of arms wraps around Lupe’s middle, and a soft, deep breath hits the back of her neck, causing shivers to run down her spine. Jess sounds still fully asleep, so Lupe, saying fuck it to a cooler bed, wraps her hand around Jess’s wrist and shuffles back, until their bodies are perfectly lined up and their legs tangled together again. Then, after a few more breaths, Lupe feels too comfortable again not to fall right back asleep.

“Fuck,” she’s woken by this pleasant word being uttered in her ear, and, even more infuriatingly, by the sudden loss of her human pillow. Lupe whines, trying to keep them in place, but Jess tears themself away from her, painfully, as their clammy skins literally pull apart from each other, and shifts back to their side of the bed, making it creak underneath them. 

Lupe is left alone, and cold, huffing, “Hey.”

“Lu,” Jess says, in a lower, more serious tone.

Lupe cranes her neck back to look at them in confusion.

Jess, for the second time in two days already, nods towards the camera in the corner, and reminds her.

“Shit,” Lupe breathes out, digging her fingers in her eyes to force herself more awake. Fucking shit. They were cuddling, weren’t they?

Jess clears their throat, trying to sound casual, “Good morning. I’ll go make breakfast.”

O… kay. “‘morning. You don’t have to—”

Jess has already jumped up from the bed, stretching themselves before they open up the curtains, letting the sunshine in. Which is also far too painful for Lupe’s eyes, and she groans again, while Jess, unbothered by her pain, chuckles. Jerk.

“I guess it’ll be a lazy morning today,” Jess says, “but from tomorrow we gotta go back to business. Alarm at 6 to go running.”

Lupe glares at them from the bed, “Seriously?”

“The season starts again in a few months, García,” it’s too early for Jess to go sounding like Coach now, “we can’t afford to indulge too much in this vacation.”

Lupe rolls her eyes, before she presses a pillow on her own face to drown out both the light and Jess’s smug face, “I fucking hate you for reminding me.”

Jess chuckles again. At least someone will be chirpier than her in the morning. Lupe is famously not a morning person, but she’s had to become one, somewhat, with Veronica being so much worse at waking up than her. So Lupe, for once, revels at being able to laze in bed as she smells breakfast being made. Is this the point Jess wanted to make? She needs to be with a morning person to get such treatment?

Chuckling, Lupe finally gets up, and pads her way to the kitchen. Jess is by the cooktop, making eggs and toast, with some cut fruit and a pot of coffee already ready on the side. They’ve got their hair in the same braid from yesterday, now much messier, and they’ve finally worn a t-shirt, one long enough to reach their thighs. So that it almost… looks like they’ve got nothing underneath, going commando—which definitely isn’t true. So shut up. 

Jess turns to her when they hear her. They smile, but say, “Hey, I was about to bring it to bed.”

Lupe snorts, “Oh, so this is your plan? You think a good relationship is when one gets spoiled everyday?”

Jess raises their eyebrows, staring pointedly at Lupe, “Yeah, actually. Spoiling each other should be a bare minimum.”

“Ah, you’re so fancy, Casanova.” 

Lupe walks up to steal a strawberry, but Jess swats at her hand, “Get your ass back in bed, García.”

This is too fun. Lupe places her hands on her hips, “Is this the way you treat your new wife?”

Jess rolls their eyes, some color rising to their cheeks and ears, “You’ve gotta earn a better treatment, wife.”

Lupe presses her hands together, and bows at Jess, “I beg your forgiveness, my lord husband.”

Jess looks like they want to swat at her again, but that’s when the buzzer rings. Shit. Their breakfast in bed will be in HD, then.

With a grimace at Jess, Lupe goes to open the door, trying to fix her hair and shirt a little on the way.

For someone who's supposed to be a neutral party, Beverly's gaze on them in their morning attire as her crew marches in and sets up camp is far too amused, “Slept well?”

Lupe grunts, “Yeah.”

She really did though. She feels truly rested for once. That mattress must've been expensive.

And the breakfast is more awkward than it needed to be with such an audience, but Lupe, at the first bite, cares far less. She starts wolfing it down, earning Jess's amused gaze too.

“You see?” Jess can't help but pull her leg, of course, “Not so bad, uh?”

“Very well,” Lupe says, arching an eyebrow at them, “then you're making me breakfast every morning,”

“Happy to.”

My ass. We'll see in a few days.

Lupe shakes her head, but chooses to focus on her coffee. Which is perfect. Obviously. Jess knows how she takes it, and unlike Veronica they've got a good memory.

Nice first morning, overall. It is a new day today. And hopefully, nobody will pay that much attention to their nighttime closeness.

Jess still proves nothing about being a better partner than Veronica, because it's far too easy being relaxed and indulging in bed on a vacation in a fancy apartment, when one doesn't have to rush to work or do a thousand other chores.

Jess tsks when she tells them this, “Good faith you have in me. Just you wait, this is nothing.”

Lupe's got nothing but time and a bet to win. 

Jess is, however, nothing but a determined bastard. 

“I’ve got a plan,” they say, and that doesn’t usually bode very well.

And she should've guessed it just by the elated look in Jess’s eyes, or by the anal care Jess takes in preparing both of their bags without allowing her to peek, and by the easy but nutritious food that they pack just as methodically.

Jess takes her back to the pier where they decided to do this trial together, and lo and behold… they’re getting on a boat.

Lupe stops a few steps behind Jess, and when Jess turns to frown at her, she raises her eyebrows at them, like, really, McCready? “Your great plan is to kill me already?”

Jess takes a moment to get her reference, as if they are not the one with a dozen sinking or almost-sinking stories, and they need a minute to remember them. When they do, they roll their eyes, “Oh come on. You're in safe hands with me.”

To make their point, Jess stretches a hand out to her with mirrored raised eyebrows, like, yes really, García .

Lupe stares at Jess's proffered hand. She’s kidding, really. She knows that’s a safe hand. Probably the safest she could hope for. Her hesitation is real, though, which confuses her. It's not the cameras, not the absurdity of it all, it’s not Jess per se, it’s—oh stop whining already, García.

She takes Jess's hand, and feels a chill run all the way from the tips of her fingers to a spot at the center of her sternum. Good start, she’s gonna be cold on that boat. It’s windy. It'll be rough seas, she may get seasick.

But, at least, Jess's hand is warm, and so is their smile as Lupe, stupidly or not, lets them pull her forward. In watching the back of Jess's head and swinging braid, their solid shoulders, the firmness yet gentless of their grip, Lupe has a flash of a memory of another time when she let Jess lead the way in much of a similar way, similar movements in her stomach accompanying her…

But really, it must’ve been dozens, hundreds of times. She’d let Jess lead her almost anywhere. That particular moment was nothing remarkable.

It’s a nice boat, not too big so that only two cameras get in with them, and Jess gets behind the wheel as if they’ve piloted this very one all their life. Lupe sits down at the tip of the boat—the bow—so that she can both chat with Jess, and look at the ocean passing by.

Jess is in their element, chewing a gum as they pilot with one hand, their far too dirty foot propped up for some reason, or just to be a show off, and, well, Lupe ends up getting affected by the vibe. She relaxes. She spreads out, and starts laughing louder. At some point, when they ride a taller wave, she even whoops instead of complaining.

Not bad for the first day of marriage.

This reminds her too of so many of her past adventures with Jess that went quite similarly, with Lupe's skeptic, worrywort side rearing its messy head at first, only to inevitably be blown away by the wind in her face, and soon end up forgotten on the ground behind her.

They both dive into the water at a nice spot, and when Lupe resurfaces first, she’s grinning from ear to ear when Jess comes back up too, their face glowing under the sun.

“You call this a date?” Lupe has to taunt her a little.

“Yeah,” Jess doesn't miss the chance to kick her under the water either, “don't you?”

“Hm,” Lupe thinks about it, then splashes them on the face.

“You filthy—”

Lupe actually thinks about it, as the battle starts. If Jess considers this a date, then hell, they have been on hundreds of them. 

Intent. Intent changes things, that's it. None of those were meant to be dates, so it doesn't count. They had girlfriends for many of them, for Christ's sake.

The second night goes better than the first, as the adrenaline is still coursing through them and they end up chatting about their adventure through most of the nighttime routine. So that it passes in a blink, Lupe barely notices the crew doing their thing and then leaving after they've settled in bed. Lupe's eyes are already drooping when they do, she can fall asleep so easily…

“It can be fun, can’t it?” Jess comments quietly in the darkness of their bed.

Lupe huffs. There they are, back at it, implying she doesn't have fun in her own relationship, “Jess, this is no different than any other fun we have all the time, as friends. You're not proving any relationship point.”

Jess stays silent, and Lupe can hear the frustration in the way their breathing changes. It's adorable, really. “Then I’ll amp up the romance. Be ready to be romanced.”

Lupe, she can’t help herself, laughs from somewhere deep in her belly, reaching a hand out to shove Jess's shoulder, "So you haven’t been putting in your A-game already, McCready? I’m affronted, appalled—”

Jess huffs, “Shut up.”

“—I thought you had game. All those girls were lying?”

“I said—you know what, I won't even deign you of an answer,” and Lupe hears Jess shuffling and turning until they've got their back to her.

Lupe's smile widens. She can picture them pouting like a kid. Nursing their bruised ego. In the mostly darkness, the lump that is Jess’s body with a lighter halo of blonde hair on top is so, suddenly, dear to her that she slithers a hand under the sheet to press it lightly to Jess's back, feeling the comforting solidness of the knobs in their spine. Just, because. It's nothing. It's affection.

She’s glad the camera can’t see it. They wouldn’t understand.

Jess makes a noise of approval and turns around so fast that Lupe registers the warm lips on her cheek and the whispered, “Night, Lu,” only after Jess has settled back down, still giving their back, but closer.

Lupe clears her throat. It was on the cheek, viewers. “Yeah, night.”

In the rush and fun of the day, they haven't properly discussed what their girlfriends accused them of, and what they’re supposed to do with it. But clearly, it’s useless. A no-brainer. They are best friends, and that's the end of it. Their girls will see it clear as day on camera, while the viewers will likely be hella bored by the normalness of their cohabitation.

For how much she hates the harsh 6 am wake-up, she doesn't hate running. It's the perfect way to start the day, releasing enough tension to be able to go through it easily enough, with the right hormones and shit pumping through her. Next to Jess, it’s actually fun, despite the fact that she has to keep up her grumpy persona. If Jess thinks she likes it too much, she’ll never let her have as many days off.

Jess does make her breakfast again, which she eats at the kitchen island in silent pleasure. She can get used to this.

It's still not romantic. She just can’t associate Jess and romance, so sadly for Jess their mission to make her break up with Veronica will fail, because she’ll have no real measure of another kind of romantic relationship. Was this an entirely stupid plan, then? Not only a failure, but it cost them the most ire from their girlfriends, when it was supposed to be the opposite.

Lupe sighs. Too late to go back. What she can do is even the field of kindness-she’ll make them a nice dinner tonight. Jess’s eyes light up at the offer.

The cameras follow them through another day packed with touristy activities, which sucks for them, as the most interesting part is when a seagull eats Jess’s ice cream and Lupe laughs her ass off as Jess whines.

Then, later, they go to the grocery store, and talk of true boring. What is the crew fishing for? What drama do they think will happen between the frozen and fresh vegetable aisles? Lupe shrugs to herself. The most that happens here is Jess making a cabbage talk, and Lupe dropping a can of beans to the sound of Jess's boos. Overall, this day marks them as true idiots.

She throws Jess out of the kitchen as she cooks, and Jess goes to smoke on the balcony with a salute her way, which is their signature move for the fans during games. Lupe shakes her head at the cigarette between Jess's fingers when they do the gesture.

So these second day is half over, and everything is going so fucking smoothly. Uneventfully. She's glad for it. Maybe it's exactly what they need to do to stick it to this program. Three weeks of nothingness and friendship, three more weeks of reconciliation and hot sex with her girlfriend, and at the end of it a perfunctory resolution. The real drama will unfold at home , but Lupe is still determined that she’ll manage to bring Veronica to her point of view—besides, of course, making her understand how ridiculous her accusation is.

 As she turns on the fire on the stove, that thought does make Lupe properly think of Veronica for the first time since that wretched evening of the choice. She wonders how things are going for her. What does she hope to get from Flo of all people? Since she's apparently so disappointed in Lupe, she thinks trying someone completely different will do the trick?

If Lupe has been able to keep the images at bay so far, they now, inevitably, come rushing in all at once, and they don’t make for a pretty picture. Veronica’s wild eyes, the venom in her voice, in contrast to Emma’s much calmer tone that still stung just as painfully. The pain, the disbelief on Jess's face. The awkwardness and pity on everybody else's.  

Don’t you realize that 99% of our problems are because of Jess?

No. No, that’s blatantly false. First of all, what problems? Second of all, Jess may be, yes, critical of Veronica, but Veronica seems to know perfectly well how to stand up for herself, and she never brought any issue up to Lupe.

Or, well. Mostly. Sometimes she said some very unkind things about Jess, but Lupe quickly shot them down. And sometimes, sure, Veronica complained about Lupe not spending enough time with her, but Lupe just thought she was disappointed in general at not-being-together-enough and not because Lupe was specifically with Jess.

Like at Christmas. Lupe has been going to the McCreadys for years, Veronica knows Lupe isn’t really in contact with her own family, yet she made it seem like Lupe was committing a crime against her just because she didn't want to spend Christmas, a holiday Lupe has always loved, with Veronica’s very stuck up parents in Manhattan. No, thank you! And Emma was there in Moose Jaw too, it’s not like Lupe was the only one invited!

All those—all those fights, then, when Veronica had expressed insecurity, frustration about Lupe's actions and affection… had they been because of Jess? Because Veronica, Veronica thought—

I think you’re in love with your fucking best friend.

“Hey, careful—”

“Lu, is something burning?”

Lupe blinks, and smells the burning vegetables in the pan, “Shit!”

They’re not salvageable, but a pitiful crisp that Jess quickly grabs and puts out the window to not let the smoke fill up the room. Lupe is still trying to catch up with reality in the meantime, leaning heavily against the kitchen island, the bunch of ingredients and preparations in front of her making no sense anymore, even if she could swear she'd chosen one of Abuela’s staple dishes. She looks around, and notices the crew’s worried faces too, and double shit. She's made a mess, she must look a mess. She passes her hand through her hair and holds her head between them

“I’m sorry,” Lupe blurts out as soon as Jess reappears, “I got distracted, I—shit. Now it's ruined, I don't—” it’s what she always does, Veronica would say why do you even try doing something nice when it's a given you'll make a mess, you're such a lost cause, baby, what would you do without me. Lupe's shoulders slump. She can't even look at Jess nor at their audience, shrouded in shame, “Sorry, I’m so sor—”

“Hey, hey, it's okay,” one of Jess's hands finds Lupe's shoulder, and she flinches for a moment before catching up to the softness of both their touch and tone, “it happens. What do you say we get Chinese?”

Lupe blinks up at them, fast. Really, she’s on the verge of tears for something so stupid? It must be her period coming, that's it. Lupe shakes her head, “Fuck, Jess, I—I really wanted to do this.” Of course Veronica is disappointed in her.

Jess's other hand comes up on her other shoulder, and now Lupe's trapped between Jess's arms. No, not trapped. That’s not the feeling. Sheltered? Whatever, it doesn't feel bad. Jess always knows how to ground her, just as she did for them the other night backstage. “It doesn't matter, Lu.” And they smile, that crooked kind of smile that can’t not make Lupe's shoulders release some tension. “Come on, I’ll call. You want the usual?”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Lupe nods. Jess's smile grows, and they give her one last squeeze before releasing her and walking to their phone. Lupe watches their back, and tries to remember how to breathe.

What the fuck just happened? Get a grip, García. She tries to shake herself off, but in doing so she catches the lenses surrounding her again, as well as the eyes behind them. They're not unkind, but she feels like a proper deer in the headlights in the face of it all. What are they seeing, capturing, framing for everybody to see? Something naked, worse than if she were actually naked, that's for sure.

Lupe walks up to Jess for lack of a better haven to find. She listens to their call, to them placing the perfect order that makes Lupe's mouth water. Jess does really know her, uh? 

“Done,” Jess grins at her, “hungry?”

Lupe, still not sure what her voice will sound like, nods.

Jess's hand is back on her shoulder, her thumb rubbing it softly, their eyes piercing, but gently, “Thanks for cooking, Lu.”

Lupe huffs a laugh. Yeah, right. “Thanks for fixing it.”

Like always.

It was just a hiccup. She may be more affected by the damn cameras than she thought. They're making her on edge without her even realizing it.

She’s now glad again that she chose Jess as her trial partner, no matter what lid it blew off. She doesn't want to think in what state she'd be in otherwise. How would she be surviving it?

After the take-away dinner that Lupe still eats all too eagerly despite the sting of it, they grab their newly acquired beers and packs of cigarettes, and settle at the table on the balcony. And they play cards, as they chat about what they’ve done today, about the upcoming season, anything under the sun, except what Lupe knows the crew is itching for them to talk about.

It'll come, of course they'll have to talk about it eventually. But there's time. Let them still have this—touristy days, a laugh or two, their shoulders bumping as they walk. Their fingers too, at times, but that’s an accident.

And then, chill evenings of companionship and ease.

As the game comes to a close, Lupe is infinitely more relaxed, any previous spiral mostly forgotten. Besides the pan she insists on scrubbing as Jess goes to take a shower.

After it’s clean and put away, that's when Lupe can fully relax. She changes into pajamas then, and comes back to the living room. She turns on the TV to the sports channel, and, with a sigh, she lowers herself to the couch she's been pointing at all day, wondering if it'll feel as good as it looks. Oh, it actually does. She leans back with an even louder sigh.

She hears a cackle, “Comfy?”

“Mhm.” She cracks an eye open, as well as a grin.

Jess is in their comfy T-shirt too, their hair wet on their shoulders. They turn to the TV, “Oh, I wanted to watch this,” and walk up to the couch with their hands already flying up to braid their hair.

Lupe spreads her legs and pats the space between them, “Come here, I’ll do your hair.” Jess can be efficient with it themself, but even they have admitted that Lupe's job lasts longer.

Jess stops in their tracks, and Lupe frowns up at them in confusion. Jess raises their eyes at them, but Lupe only frowns harder and repeats the motion with her hand. Jess isn't usually this shy about it.

After one more second of hesitation, Jess shrugs and sits down in front of Lupe, at the very edge of the couch, as Lupe's fingers immediately get to combing through their hair. It's peaceful. Lupe loves doing this. She knows it relaxes Jess, and she enjoys contributing to their well-being.

Now, with them both settled in, watching the sport they love—even though neither of their favorite teams—it’s starting to truly feel like home. Their own audience is mere background, only the crew’s breathing and occasional coughing giving them away.

Lupe can tell Jess's eyes have closed, as soft sounds of appreciation have started vibrating in their throat. Lupe finds herself smiling softly, her eyes switching from the TV, to her handiwork, to Jess's profile she can see.

Then her eyes raise a bit more, and she catches the slightly, but obviously, raised eyebrows of Beverly from behind the camera. And at the next blink, Lupe's vision widens even more, to the whole room, to the whole crew, and herself and Jess, in it. Jess leaning slightly back on her, cradled by Lupe's half-bare legs. They're sitting so close together. So… intimately. Domestically. So at ease with each other, as Lupe takes care of Jess's hair for them.

You think I don’t see how you are with them? How you—you braid their hair, or—or how many times I find you two cuddling on my couch!

As friends, friends! But, in this crystal clear vision Lupe gets for a moment, as if seeing herself and Jess from the outside, from the angle the cameras are filming them, she… sees it. She wouldn't be doing this, like this, with anybody else, not even Esti, their younger teammate, who's almost like a sister to her. Lupe has braided her hair, but only and exclusively in a rush in the locker room right before a game, and only and exclusively when nobody else, namely Jess, was currently available. She has not braided Veronica’s hair, but only because Veronica doesn't like it braided, it’s not like she wouldn't do this for her too!

Too.

“This is,” Lupe’s hands stop, and she barely recognizes her own voice, “what they were talking about, isn’t it?”

She feels Jess freeze against her own body, as so many of their surfaces are touching. She wishes she could see their face, but also dreads the moment Jess will turn around. Lupe's hands drop altogether, and she raises her voice to the crew, “You think this is… not platonic? Too much? Like, hell, cheating?”

A few people share glances, but it's Beverly who says, “Again, it’s not up to us.”

“Come on, that’s too convenient,” Lupe doesn't know what she's looking for, but some modicum of support at the very least, “tell us what you think, Beverly.”

“Bev,” Beverly, or Bev, says, “Beverly is my grandmother.”

“Okay, Bev,” Lupe says. She feels fired up, as if to provide a warm protection to the still frozen body of Jess in front, no, in between her legs, “be real for a sec.”

Bev sighs, shares a glance with her crew, then shrugs, “I think that if my girlfriend was like this with someone else who is not me, especially her so-called best friend, well, I would string her by that braid.”

Lupe, well, freezes all the way down to her toes too. She—she knows that it's a wrong assumption, but if it's true that it appears not as innocent as it is for her, for both of them, then they actually are in big trouble with their girlfriends.

How the fuck do they fix this? What are they supposed to do? It means nothing, nothing like that , so why should they stop their easy affection just because it looks bad? Making their lives harder for no real reason? There must be a way to solve this.

“Jess?” Lupe can only turn to her one certainty for the solution.

Said certainty makes to stand up.

“Wait,” Lupe grabs their shoulders, keeps them in place, still can’t see their face, “we need to put this to rest. It's not like that, we know it. If they don't know it, let’s prove it to them.” Lupe swallows. “Right now.” She sounds firmer than she feels.

Jess finally turns towards her, their eyes wide and so deeply blue, like troubled waters, “What—and how do you plan to… oh.”

They must read it on her face. Lupe has no idea what her face looks like, but she knows what must be done, “Come on, turn around.”

Jess freezes once again, her eyebrows raised so high like she only does for the wildest of play ideas Lupe has during a tough game, the mega REALLY, García?

Yes, REALLY, McCready. 

Lupe smirks, “Come on, you wanted to romance me? Let's show them why it’s a joke. It's just a joke, a play,” she says that straight to the camera.

Jess looks at the camera too, but their expression is much more unreadable. They quickly turn them back to Lupe anyway. “That doesn't sound smart. They'll get mad at us.”

“They’re already mad,” Lupe is starting to feel frustrated, “they think there’s something between us? Well, we’ll have the last word. Come on, no kiss of ours can look real. We have no romantic chemistry whatsoever, we never have.” Never. “So let’s fucking show them.”

She sounds like she's begging, or close to. But she just can’t go on for the next three weeks with this Damocles’ sword hanging above her head. Watching her every step, touch, smile at Jess, ready to fall if it judges it like she's in love with them.

Which she is definitely, absolutely, not .

Jess's face looks complicated, it goes through many of the twitches and changes that Lupe is familiar with. They must be calculating their options, what's at stake, what Emma will think, what everybody will think. But, in the end, they must come to Lupe's same conclusion.

Only by showing how bad a kiss between them is, can they prove that they’ve never kissed before, nor do they ever want to.

Jess holds in their breath, their eyes fixed to a spot on the couch, for a long moment, then they release it. And raise their head towards Lupe, renewed fire in their eyes, “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Lupe's stomach drops all the way to the floor. It's—this is it. Everything is at stake, both their relationships, and, just a little, their friendship.

Not really, but it’s definitely the biggest test it’s ever had to face. Or, well… the second biggest. But they never talked about the first one, so it’s almost like that never happened.

This will be a no-issue too. Of course it will.

Jess turns fully around, and Lupe scoots over to give them more room. Jess stays between the circle of her legs, but now it’s a looser one. Lupe raises her eyes to their face, and it suddenly looks so much closer. Maybe closer than it’s ever been. Certainly closer than ever, with this intent. Have Jess's lips always been so damn… full?

Hell yeah, they have. Many girls have praised their skill within Lupe's earshot. It's not a novelty . Surely, now that they're about to be directed at her it’s different, and it’s normal that Lupe will take more notice of them. She has become very picky about whose lips get access to her through the years, so she must evaluate them.

They’re alright. Good, decent lips. Will they feel rough? Soft?

Focus, García. That’s not the point. The point is to very briefly peck them, laugh about it, and go back to the game playing on TV, business as usual.

“O—okay?” Jess asks, their hands raised up close to Lupe's face, waiting for permission. 

Oh. Oh, “Yeah, sure,” Lupe shrugs and clears her throat, the picture of ease. Casualness. This is casual. Nothing. A no-brainer.

Jess's hands, often on her shoulders, her arms, her elbows, cup Lupe's face for the first time in—ever. Ever.

A chill runs down Lupe's spine. A window must be open. Jess's thumbs rub on her cheeks, in that soothing gesture that is so familiar. This is familiar, nothing much different than usual. Right? It's a peck. A you see? kiss for their girlfriends’ sake who dared imply that—

“Okay?” Jess's breath hits her lips, and Lupe’s thoughts stop in her brain altogether.

Her words too. All she can do is nod. Yeah. Yeah, let’s get this over with.

Except that Jess's eyes, her only anchor, start to droop closed, and Lupe finds herself adrift. With nothing to truly tether her, to keep her in check, distract her from—

Jess's lips, full, soft, a little wet, meeting her own. Lupe's eyes have closed at some point too, so that she doesn’t even have the distraction of sight from feeling the sensation of it, of them, of Jess's taste on her mouth. Lupe lets out a shaky breath, and the motion makes her lips part lightly, so that she inhales Jess's taste, and it must be gravity but Jess's lips press a bit harder against hers, her hands grip her face tighter, and for a second they are… kissing. A bigger sister of a peck. A longer moment than a see? You're wrong.

They’re wrong.

Lupe pulls away, gasping for air like she’s resurfaced from water, finding that her hands are gripping the front of Jess's shirt without her permission, and in the space between their lips Lupe utters, without being able to hold it back, one word that she hopes only she, and at most Jess, hears, “Fuck.”

But then she remembers the little mic tucked in her shirt.

It's alright. Jess clears her throat almost immediately after, loud enough to drown any other sound. Right? But even if, what does it matter? Fuck is a pretty meaningless word in Lupe's vocabulary at this point.

And this is done. They did the thing. Lupe remembers the next part in the script she's made up in her mind, namely laughing this off.

“Alright,” Lupe snorts, “thanks, McCready,” she pats their shirt, their chest, soundly.

Jess leans back, their eyes trained to the floor, but they follow Lupe's lead, and huff a laugh, “You're—you're welcome.”

“See?” Lupe shouts, boldly, recklessly, to the cameras, “Nothing.”

Jess has already stood up, and is giving their back both to her and the camera, “I think I’ll head to bed. Early rise tomorrow.”

Lupe groans, “Alright, coach.”

She expects Jess to roll their eyes at her, make fun of her for her laziness, but before she knows it Jess has fully left the room and Lupe is left to herself. To her own devices. Her own bed she just made, or rather a couch where she just kissed her best friend of seven years.

Lupe dives back for the remote to turn off the TV, and covertly licks her lips. Just, instinctually. It's not her fault she still feels Jess on them.

No, she doesn't. It was too brief. It was nothing.

But this may be worse than the first time their friendship got put to the test.

Lupe is not drunk enough. Should she be? Should she want to? She doesn't feel the need to. She's laughing at some joke Jess just said, and she already feels close enough to it.

Jess, all of a sudden, turns to her. They don't lose their smile, but they do seem much more serious than a second ago. Lupe's eyes flick down, to where they’re both leaning against the bar counter, their hips touching, Jess's arm loosely wrapped around Lupe so that their hand is pressed on the counter far closer to Lupe's other hip.

Lupe, as if pulled by a backward gravity, traces the length of Jess's arm with her eyes, then looks back up at Jess's face, and finds them already looking at her.

“Lu,” Jess is still smiling, but there's a nervousness there, a trepidation, “should we—do you—would you like to do this another time? Just… us?”

Lupe swallows thickly. She glances briefly at their team having fun spread out around the room, then focuses back on Jess. She feels drunk, by their closeness, by Jess's fingers brushing the skin of her hip from time to time, by Jess's smile, almost shy, yet bright, and handsome.

Jess. Her best friend. Of many years. She shouldn't, they shouldn't, and yet—

Lupe lays awake at night, staring at darkness, frozen in place. To not disturb Jess. Jess's breathing isn’t deep enough, though. They're not sleeping either. But Lupe doesn't point it out. Doesn't dare.

It was nothing. It—it proved it. There's nothing between them.

Nothing has changed. They do, as a matter of fact, wake up wrapped around each other like the past two mornings, which is normal. It's well past 6 am, Lupe can tell from the light, just as she can tell that Jess is awake too from the drumming beat of their heart under her ear.

Thank you, Jess, for allowing the day off. So that Lupe can allow herself just one more second of having her face buried in Jess's neck and it meaning nothing, it being a treacherous act of her unconscious body and not hers. Jess's fingers are tracing her back ever so lightly, Lupe's arms squeeze Jess a bit tighter, and they both breathe in for a few seconds. Fully. Peacefully.

Then it's like a switch goes off, and they part, turning away, giving their backs to each other. So that when Jess slips away to go make breakfast, Lupe can have a few more minutes to get her shit together.

Instead, she starts to panic. She has fought too long, too hard, to keep her friendship with Jess confined within its rightful, safe place, and now all her work may blow up in her face just because she accepted to be experimented on.

Jess has no idea what is happening. Truly. Is it karma? Should they have expected this?

But how? It was supposed to be straightforward. Get Emma to choose them, to marry them. A bit of an unconventional way to do it, this show, but Jess has never had anything against unconventional. On the contrary. Things were shaping up to be in their favor.

And then… Lupe. Just, Lupe.

Lupe, the first time, appeared in Jess's life in as much of an explosive way. The new pitcher on Jess's team, giving everybody a run for their money. Especially Jess.

Now, it’s not even Lupe's fault. That girlfriend of hers caused the explosion for all four of them. But especially for Jess. Veronica has blown Lupe's pieces Jess's way, and now Jess has to live in the same house, sleep in the same bed with them.

Or is Jess the one in a thousand little pieces? All scrambling to reassemble right and proper, in time for Jess's own wedding. A wedding that may never happen. Because what if Jess reassambles all wrong. What if Emma will.

Or what if Lupe will reassemble… right? To right another wrong, one that is much older. Much scarier. One that Jess had willed themself to forget, to not give it any importance, and relegate it to the very dark recesses of their mind. 

One that has reared its ugly head again, lodging itself in bed between Jess and Lupe, snoring loudly, making them both unable to sleep. Making Jess replay the—the kiss they just, stupidly, gave Lupe. They should've known it was a terrible idea.

Jess still holds Lupe's sleepy, filterless form in the morning. They can’t help themself. Lupe is so pliant, so warm and needy in their arms when barely conscious that Jess is—stupid.

Needless to say, their occasional bed-sharing and bed-cuddling has been a… white lie, a white secret kept from their own girlfriend for three whole years. It's harmless, really. But they know what it would’ve looked like, and they didn’t want to hurt Emma with it.

But now it will be for countless people to see, Emma included, just because Jess has no spine when it comes to their hermano. 

Does Lupe really not… realize? How thin is the line between the different possible natures of their affection towards one another? Jess has no clue what passes through Lupe's mind, they haven't had one since that whole thing happened that Jess has worked so hard to put aside, not only for their own peace of mind, but also for the sake of their friendship with Lupe.

Lupe, for how well Jess knows her inside and out, sometimes is just too much of a mystery.

It was a terrible idea. The kiss, that is. Jess feels the implication of it all as she scrambles the eggs, because if Lupe really thought that would be the only thing needed to get through this mess, then she’s in for a bitter surprise.

They need to talk about it. All of it. Not just about what their girlfriends have said, but everything that has led them to this precise situation. The roots of it are in that very one thing that Jess is scared the most to unearth. That series of events that inevitably, brutally changed the trajectory of where they thought their life was going to go.

“Thanks,” Lupe's voice, so much quieter than usual, breaks Jess out of their reverie.

They look at Lupe, in her ratty t-shirt and bird's nest for a head, and Jess is already smiling before they know it. They can’t help themself. Seeing her reminds them that despite the issue they’re avoiding to face head-on, Jess's mission still hasn't changed. Lupe deserves happiness, no matter what. Jess doubts it’s with someone like Veronica , and they'll show it to Lupe no matter the cost.

Even your own relationship?

Shut up. They—they’re not losing their relationship. Emma, that is. The two of them will figure that out when it's their time.

For now, breakfast.

It doesn't have to be awkward, after last night. It was just a thing that happened and shouldn't have. It was a naive move. But they can move past it, just like they have done before.

Yeah. They can talk about that with maturity. Like the grown ups they are. And get rid of that skeleton in the closet once and for all.

“You're welcome, Lu.”

Lupe nods. They eat at the island again, welcoming the crew half way through. Bev’s words replay in Jess’s mind.

She waves them off. They can be normal. Get through this other day of fake-married life in one piece. Jess is determined to make sure it runs as smoothly as it, mostly, has so far, straight into a very adult conversation they need to have.

However, their plan can’t account for Lupe’s mood. Which keeps changing. It's not her mere grumping around, it’s true stormy weather today. 

Shit. Have they really just used a weather forecast analogy as they've been accused of? 

Whatever. Everybody has moods.

“So we could go out tonight?” Jess proposes halfway through their morning walk in the city, “Go watch a movie?”

Lupe answers with a non-committal humpf. She’s got her hands in her pockets, and she keeps kicking any pebble that crosses her path. 

Jess really needs to start putting in more effort in prompting Lupe to realize her own truth. “What would you really like to do, Lu? What is your ideal date?”

Lupe, predictably, rolls her eyes, “I don't really give a shit.”

“Come on,” Jess nudges her with her elbow, “what's your favorite way to spend time with your girlfriend?”

Maybe just as predictably, Lupe finally looks away from the floor to stare at Jess with a very suggestive eyebrow quirked up.

Jess is the one to roll their eyes, to fend off any other thought about Lupe’s lewdness, “Besides that.”

Lupe's smirk takes a moment to disappear, then she shrugs, “Whichever way to hang out is fine, I care more about the quality of time, you know that.”

Jess does know that, “Then we can go watch a movie.”

“Sure, let’s go watch a fucking movie, McCready.”

And Lupe gets back to grumpily walking, while Jess is not satisfied. That didn't sound like good-natured banter, but true frustration. It leaves a bitter taste in the air, a tension in their shared space and time where there shouldn’t be.

Fuck.

Double fuck, because this word only reminds them of Lupe’s muttered curse in the breath after their kiss. Like it had been yanked out of her outside her will, by a force that had overtaken her conscious verbal response.

How is Jess supposed to take something like that? They never wanted them to kiss for the first time like this, due to outside pressure, and not inside want. Desire. Will.

Not that Jess has wanted—not anymore. Not for a long time. They buried that in the past. It's not part of them any longer.

Jess glances at Lupe, only to catch her stare at them. Lupe quickly looks back at the street, her face blank.

Jess does the same. The only apparent change, the pace of their beating heart.

Not anymore. Not anymore. They love Emma. They asked Emma to marry them. They want to marry Emma and build a family with her.

“I don't really want to watch a movie,” Lupe says, after they leave the restaurant where they had a lunch reigned by a nerve-wracking silence.

Jess sighs, “Sure.”

What then? It's supposed to be up to them to show Lupe the world, woo and date her like she deserves to be. Yet, Jess feels rattled from the inside out, pushed out of their axis by not just the fact that they've now shared a very brief yet felt kiss with Lupe, but also by the wall Lupe has put up about it. She often does this when she feels threatened, and Jess usually knows what to do, but in this case, so close to the no-fly zone, it escapes them. It's beyond their current capacity and capability.

They wish Lupe would use her big girl’s words for once instead. Is that too much to ask?

“I just want to go home,” Lupe says, sounding meek, tired, not meeting their eyes, “is that alright?”

Jess pauses at that, studying Lupe's lowered, tense profile intently. Of course it's alright, and even if it weren't, Jess would never force her to do something she doesn't want to.

This, and her freak out about burning lunch the other day, make Jess think very hard. It's not a surprise. Lupe turns like a shell of her bold, confident yet still human , vulnerable self around Veronica, and tries to mold herself into someone who never makes mistakes, who never says no. Or else she gets mocked, yelled at by a girlfriend who’s closer to a spoiled child.

Jess has never been able to stand Veronica, for how much the bro code would’ve required them to suck it up and be nice to her. No, Jess would throttle her day in and day out if they could. Or better, send her flying, hit a homerun out of her, so to never see her again.

Jess grabs Lupe's jacket by the elbow, to make her stop. Lupe looks at her in surprise, and Jess tries to convey with their eyes everything they can’t with words, because Lupe doesn't want to hear it, “Of course, Lu. Let’s just go home.”

Home. It feels right to say it, just as it feels right to see Lupe's small, yet grateful smile. 

There’s still a nagging tension between them all the way home that doesn't feel right. Jess doesn’t want to bring it up, all up, with Lupe looking so dejected, but they don't want to spend the next three weeks like this. They have nicer plans.

The cameras are still with them anyway, waiting patiently for something to unfold. Jess is not doing this for them, they’re not about to air out their dirty laundry for the clout, but because, in the end, it may affect them and Lupe for real if they don’t.

Jess sits on the couch as Lupe goes to fish beers in the fridge. They try to ignore the lenses pointed at them, just as they've been trying to for the past week. It's no easy task, especially as the people behind them are becoming more and more familiar. Jess's hands are wringing together, tight, restless. Their eyes are pointed at the spot where they kissed less than 24 hours ago.

Lupe sits down at the opposite end of the couch, handing them a beer without looking at them. Jess mutters thanks as they take it.

Their trial marriage, their cohabitation, is not supposed to be so stifled.

That prompts Jess to say, determined enough, “Lu.”

“Hm?”

Jess turns to Lupe, stares at her profile, so damn familiar to them. Despite how stubborn it looks right now, so dear. “Don’t you think we should talk about it?”

Lupe chugs on her beer, wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, “About what?”

Jess smiles. Better than becoming frustrated about it, when they knew she was going to say that. They point, generally, at the couch they’re sitting on.

Lupe's eyes narrow slightly at that, “What is there to say? It spoke for itself.”

Jess bites her lower lip, “And what our girlfriends said?”

Jess has to close their eyes for a second at their own words, as flashes of Emma’s face come to their mind. The unshed tears in her eyes, the thin line of her mouth as she plainly said Yes, Jess .

Emma thinks Jess is in love with Lupe. Emma, their girlfriend of three goddamn years, doubts them so deeply. Has Jess not been faithful? Loyal? Caring? Loving?

They may be that to you. They are that with you. But to me, I spend most of the time chasing them. 

That’s not… true, is it? Because if it is, how could they have failed so outrageously without even realizing?

When Jess had chosen to be with Emma, they’d told themself that it was the start of something new. That any feeling they'd had before, any residual feeling they might still have, didn't matter anymore. It was done, the door had been closed. And a new one had opened. So Jess would be the best partner they could be to Emma. And the best friend to Lupe.

But could it be that Emma had still… seen. Silently, she'd taken note of every look, every touch, every gesture Jess directed towards Lupe. And for how much Jess had thought to have platonified every single one of those, something had still seeped through enough for that sentence to exist.

Yes, Jess.

“It doesn't matter what they said,” Lupe says, still stubborn as fuck. Finally, she turns to Jess with an incredulous look, “‘cause we're not in love, end of story. If—if we are comfortable with each other, it’s because we’re close, we've known each other for so long. How could we not be? It doesn't mean there's anything more to it.”

Jess doesn't know who Lupe is telling this to. The viewers? Their girlfriends? Herself? Yeah, it’s true, technically. But she knows that’s not the end of the story. Or she should know it, even if for all this time Jess has doubted whether Lupe even remembers it.

“Lu. You know that there—there,” shit, Jess had never thought they would say it out loud in their lifetime, “was a time when I asked you out, right? And you—you said—”

Jess doesn't know what's in the air tonight, it isn’t even any celebration. The team is just hanging out mid-week, yet something feels… different. Lupe doesn't leave their side, maybe that’s it. But that's usually so, so why does it feel so different? Maybe it’s how… touchy Lupe is being, and she's not usually such a touchy person—hanging on to Jess's arm, pressing their limbs together, always a different one, removing and replacing Jess's hat on their head, smiling at them with some kind of mischief.

If Jess didn’t know better, they’d think Lupe is… flirting with them.

But it can’t be. Can it?

They’ve known each other, been best friends for four years, and there’s little they don't do together. This is one of those things. So much so that Jess has mostly resigned themself to the fact that their friendship isn’t ever gonna be anything more.

Mostly.

They’re going to buy Lupe a drink, that's what they'll do. They always do that, but this time they'll put more effort in it. A different intent.

Jess makes to go to the bar, yet Lupe stands up to follow them immediately. Jess feels warmer at that, as they feel Lupe's body so close behind her as they slither through the tight crowd together. At some point they don't feel her anymore, and Jess instinctually stretches a hand back.

They had expected Lupe to grab her elbow, her wrist at most. Instead, Lupe takes their hand. Slots their fingers together, tightens her hold. Rubs her thumb on Jess's skin.

Jess’s heart is properly pumping wildly now. It's—something is happening. After all this time, it’s happening.

Jess orders their drinks, then turns around towards Lupe. Lupe is already looking at them, a soft smile playing on her lips. Is she drunk? Is Jess? Because they would swear Lupe's eyes flick to their lips.

Jess tries shuffling closer, just to test it out, and Lupe doesn't move away. Not even when Jess's arm circles her, when their hips press together, when their breaths intermingle. They're just chatting about something or the other, Jess can't even fully register it. She’s too caught up in taking Lupe in, every change in her expression, the way her throat moves as she speaks, and the gold chain wrapped around it. Jess wouldn't need that much effort to bend down, and press a kiss right there, in the center of Lupe’s clavicles.

Is this happening? Are their energies really aligned in this way? It's not the first first time Jess feels some kind of way around Lupe, and it's not the first time they feel Lupe so close to them either, closer than a simple friend should be, yet it’s like the road they’ve been traveling together for quite some time has now finally reached a road sign. A crossroad.

But how can Jess be sure that's what this is about, without making a fool out of themself? Without ruining a friendship for nothing?

Jess has never made a more daring jump, and they have made quite a few wild jumps in their life, “Lu, should we—do you—would you like to do this another time? Just… us?”

Real smooth, McCready.

But it's done, it’s out there. Jess holds their breath, tries to reign their heartbeat in as the seconds tick by. As Lupe stares at them.

Not really surprised, more so as scared as Jess feels. They get it. It is kind of a quantum jump from what they are now to what they could be… but it's right here for the taking. Will she dare?

Lupe's throat bobs as she swallows, and she looks so damn handsome as she says, “Yes, Jess. I think I’d like that.”

Jess could kiss her right here and now. There's a moment after she says it—after she says yes—where they both openly stare down at each other’s lips.

Jess swallows thickly too, and reigns themself in, forcing themself to say, “Cool. What about… Friday?

And Lupe’s smile is bright, cheeky, happy, “Yeah, I can do Friday, McCready.”

Jess needs a moment, or maybe just the space to jump in the air. They make another jump instead, by pressing a kiss to Lupe's cheek, lingering on it a second longer than they normally would, “It's a date, then.”

They'll never forget Lupe's laugh, so carefree, so full of promise, “It sure fucking is.”

“—you said yes, Lu.”

Jess can be stubborn too. Their words sure come out stubborn now, some kind of vindictive. Hey, I exist, this happened, they seem to want to say.

Lupe's intake of breath is loud in the sudden stillness of the room. Jess catches the panicked look in her eyes right before she averts them, and some kind of laugh comes out of her, “We—we were drunk.”

Ah! “So you do remember that.”

Lupe makes a face at them, like they're stupid, “Why wouldn't I remember it? I wasn’t that drunk.” Lupe laughs again, and she seems to want Jess to join in this backward kind of hilarity.

Jess isn't feeling it. They avert their eyes too, as another part of them rises up, one more so petulant, a little, “Oh, I don't know, since you literally never brought it up again.”

It's—it’s embarrassing to admit, really. Never has Jess been so clamorously stood up, and by their best friend at that. For it to be in the open now, it’s—

“Because it was nothing, was it?” Lupe bites back, scoffing, “It wasn’t for real, so I didn’t think we needed to say it.”

Is that it?

Is that it?

Three years of silence because Lupe just didn’t even think it worth mentioning? 

“Well, I didn’t think it wasn’t for real.” Jess still remembers it perfectly well, they can still feel what they felt, how Lupe felt, how she had flirted, and touched them, and said fucking yes— “You were there, did it seem like a joke to you?”

Jess remembers the cameras. Not that they had forgotten them, but now a part of their brain does give the alarm, that this discussion, this fight, is exactly the kind of drama the producers want. Jess's pain and shame, being fodder for entertainment.

Lupe's eyes have started to flick around the room too, seemingly unable to stop somewhere. The panic on her face is fully visible now, but it gets mixed in with anger, “Jess, come on. You didn’t bring it up either, so what was I supposed to believe?”

Jess can't sit still a second longer. They regret it. They regret bringing it up, because now they're actually fighting. Or about to fight. About their failed dating attempt.

But now that Pandora's box has been opened, the lid can’t shut back down, can it?

“You’re right,” Jess says, their teeth gritted tight, “I didn’t bring it up. You remember why? What happened?”

It’s so ironic now. So fucking ironic, since it got them both here, on a reality show about marriage.

Lupe crosses her arms, seems to turn ten times smaller, hunched in on herself, but also a ball of steel, “Don’t.”

Don't, uh? It mustn't be easy for her to face her own actions either, uh?

“No, I think it’s time we acknowledge it.” Fucking hell. Jess digs her fingers in the base of their braid, the one Lupe did for them. “I did go on that date, but you didn’t show up. I called you, and you didn’t pick up.” Lupe is their best friend, Jess trusts them more than anybody else. They could not ever bring this to the light of day if they wanted to keep it that way. Jess closes their eyes again now, in the face of some of their worst memories rushing in, “Then you blatantly told me the next day that you—”

There must be a mistake. Something must've happened to Lupe, because their best friend wouldn't just… not show up. Stand them up.

They literally saw her earlier today, at practice, and at some point, as they shared a look, she had blushed. When Jess had said, See you later then?, she’d winked, and said, See you later.

Well, it's later now. Jess has been waiting for three hours. They’ve sent too many text messages to count, plus three phone calls.

They’re giving up. Going home. Hopefully, Lupe is okay. Maybe she fell asleep? Must be that. Practice did go hard today.

Yeah, Jess will wake up tomorrow to endless apology messages from her, and a request for a raincheck.

The whole next morning, they hear nothing. Jess sends only one more text, Hey, you alright? I'm kind of worried, please say something.

Then goes on with their day. They have some pride. They have a life outside of Lupe too.

Mid-way through the afternoon, they finally receive a call from her. Jess would never admit to the speed with which they pick up, “Hey, I was worried sick, are you oka—”

“Dude!” Jess's brain halts. That is how Lupe usually sounds during the mother of all hangovers, but that can’t be— “You won’t believe what's happened!”

Jess frowns. Lupe does sound like she got drunk last night. So she had… been out? Jess is scared to ask, their stomach already sinking, “What?”

And then they hear the worst sentence they could possibly hear.

“I slept with the hottest fucking girl in the entire city! God, I have no words, I feel like a new man.”

W—hat? That must be a joke. Lu is fucking with them, it’s their way to play off her embarrassment. A shitty way. “Lu, what the fuck? That's not funny.”

“Surely not! I'm dead serious. That was totally, absolutely the best fuck of my life. Can you believe it, Jess?”

No, I can’t. This is a joke. Right? “Lu,” Jess huffs. Please let it be a joke. “Didn’t you have something else to do yesterday?”

“I—what? No, what are you talking about?”

Jess can hear the confusion in Lupe's voice. It sounds real.

Does it? Is it?

Or is this Lupe's very, very shitty, roundabout way to shoot Jess down? Couldn't she find another way? Would she really stoop so low? With their own hermano ?

But again, Jess suddenly remembers, all of Lupe’s relationships so far have been a big mess, and a terrible fiasco.

In all of them, the common denominator was Lupe.

Lupe may have just done them a big favor. “Nothing, I must've gotten it wrong. Anyway, congratulations.”

“—you had gotten with Veronica. As if we hadn’t had any plans.”

Lupe’s mouth falls open and closed like a fish, as she finally stands up, “Like I said, I thought we'd been joking! Not like we had real plans.” Her face, her voice, are complicated, as she tries her hardest to placate Jess just as much as she tries to play it off. She crosses her arms again, her eyes flicking to the cameras for just a second, then back to them. She smiles, scoffs, her eyes wide, and there’s a beg in there somewhere, “Come on, Jess. You can’t spin it like this now, it was never—we’re bros.”

“Well,” Jess shrugs, twisting her lips like they’re smelling something bad, “that was a real dick move from my bro.”

Oh yeah, the lid is off. Jess didn't realize how much resentment she harbored in their gut, but isn’t it all rushing up in a big tornado now.

Lupe closes her eyes for a second. Then raises a hand, “Okay, yeah, fair,” she breathes in, then out, “but you literally got with Emma a week later, so clearly it wasn’t that important to you.” She shrugs so hard her shoulders may fall off, “Or you would’ve confronted me about it, don’t you think?!”

Jess’s mouth opens and closes a few times this time, in a disbelief that almost overpowers them. They reign it in, “Lu,” it’s still unbelievable they have to spell it out, “the only reason I didn’t—” fucking hell, “I mean, I got the message loud and clear, didn’t I? So it’s not like I wanted to risk… losing you or something by making a big deal about it.”

They’re both breathing harder, Jess can’t stop noticing once they start hearing it. Yet, it’s like this sentence, or maybe it’s one word—losing—seems to suck all the air out of the room. Yeah, no. No. They would never want—this is why they hate this. Even with all the pent-up feelings about it they never could express, they would rather keep them in for another ten thousand years than take this risk now.

Of blowing up.

Lupe is shaking her head, and do her eyes look suddenly redder than before? “Jess. Come on. If it was such a big deal to you, then why did you get with Emma, uh?”

Is this really happening? Have they just undermined the legitimacy of their current relationship with their own words? No. No, Emma was a saving grace, “Because… well, she, unlike somebody else, wanted to date me! So I did.”

Undoubtedly, the best decision they ever made.

“Well then!” Lupe bursts out, “And now you're going to marry her, so really, you should thank me.”

But that is fucking rich coming from Lupe.

“Well then,” Jess echoes, in a whole different tone, “fucking thank you very much.”

Their legs start moving before they even register it, but they approve of that move. Or, wait, couldn’t they have chosen a better direction? Jess finds themself in the bedroom, the bedroom they’re currently sharing with Lupe, so that’s not the best decision they’ve ever made. And Lupe, maybe predictably, or rather kind of surprisingly, steps in not long after.

It’s embarrassing. They’re embarrassed. Lupe, once upon a time, blatantly rejected them, and Jess has had to squash that feeling down, deep down. No wonder it has a foul smell now. As they face their best friend not like an equal, but like a kicked puppy. With a flurry of cameras rushing in to capture it all to boot.

“I’m sorry, alright?” Lupe says, and she does sound genuine. It keeps Jess’s mouth shut, as Lupe buries a hand through her curls, “That was a dick move. But I—I just got it wrong, I didn’t think that you really—” Lupe bites her lips, “and it doesn't matter now, does it? You wouldn't really date me, would you?”

Lupe laughs again, her eyes searching Jess’s. Begging for release, for an absolution from any guilt.

Is Jess ready to give it to her? Should they? Everything has turned blurrier now, they don’t even remember why they thought it wise to bring it up. This doesn’t feel wise. It feels icky, and gross. It’s put a dent in their bond, and Jess has never, ever wanted that.

It was better to never have dated.

“Now?” Jess huffs, “Hell no. But since, you know, we've been accused of being in love, I thought it better to unearth this shit so that it can't come back biting us in the ass. I don't feel like that about you now,” Jess looks around at the cameras, feeling their shoulders slump in defeat at the admission, the confession, “but I can’t say that I never… have.”

It’s hard to look Lupe in the eyes. It seems to be the same for her. They both look down, but what they see is the bed they’ve shared, they’ve cuddled in, between them. Taunting them.

But exactly the fact that they’ve tried and failed should be proof that their closeness, now, is just, irrefutably, platonic. Right?

Jess plops down on the bed, their legs deciding to give out.

“Okay,” Lupe breathes out above them, “but that was just a… moment, right? In our very long history of—of platonic love. I’m sure that counts for something. I’m sure Emma won't hold it against you.”

She already does. Jess huffs a pitiful laugh, “She sure thinks I’m in love with you now.”

After a beat, Jess feels Lupe sit down next to them, as well as a tentative hand placed on their shoulder, “It’ll be alright. This is all the proof she’ll need, right?” 

Right? Jess presses their lips together, eyes still trained to the floor, trying to focus on that and not on Lupe’s touch.

They hear a throat being cleared, and they both look up at Bev, who doesn’t hesitate to ask, “Have you ever told your girlfriend about your past feelings for Lupe?”

She really does not mince her words, uh? 

Jess can’t stop the grimace on their face, “Uhm… no?”

Bev shoots them a look that they used to see on their middle school teacher’s face.

“What?” Lupe’s the one who speaks up. “Didn’t you hear that it didn’t matter? Why should they have?”

“Well,” a young guy next to Bev says, “it sure makes it look suspicious now. You sure they’re gone gone?”

He’s joking, right? Yet the crew watches intently, expectantly. Way to put Jess on the spot, thank you very much, guys.

Lupe laughs loudly, her hand still on Jess’s shoulder, “Please. Of course they are. Could you imagine it?”

Jess dares looking at Lupe. Is it… weird now? Lupe knew it before—she had said yes, goddamnit—but they both never acknowledged it, like it never happened. Now that it’s in the open, will it make it weird?

Lupe seems to sense their gaze, because she turns. She must read the worry on their face, because her smile turns softer, kinder, like one of those smiles that—used to make Jess’s heart beat faster, “It’s okay, Jess. We’re good, aren’t we?” Lupe searches their face for confirmation, “We’re the best team.”

And Jess finally feels the relief. They’ve overcome this. They’ve faced the monster, and they’ve slain it. Now, it doesn’t have to haunt them, to scare them anymore. Because they are invincible, “You can bet your ass we are.”

Lupe grins, and with surprise Jess feels her pull them into a crushing hug, one that Jess can’t help but reciprocate immediately. The momentum has them falling to their side on the bed, still hugging, and that’s when beautiful, freeing laughter comes.

“I know I’m irresistible, so I forgive you for slipping a little, McCready,” Lupe, the brat, taunts her without shame.

“You’re a fucking slut, that’s what you are, García,” Jess shoots back, and soon they’re rolling on the bed, trying to get the upper hand on the other in a wrestling match.

And the crew soon leaves them alone for the night, which is always an even bigger relief. 

Jess does feel better. So that was it, the truth they wondered about for so long. Lupe just wasn’t into it. Didn’t mark the date in the calendar. Didn’t get ready for it with trembling hands. Didn’t tap her foot on the floor waiting for Jess to arrive. She just forgot about it, and ended up in bed with someone else instead, like it was any other night.

Except that it wasn’t any other night, and Lupe literally chose the worst possible person she ever could. One far too similar to a leech, that is still hanging on to Lupe, sucking on her energy, to this day.

Yeah, Jess’s mission is far from over, and now that they’ve got the pebble out of their shoe, it’ll be much easier.

They wake up weird. Only a second later, do they realize that Lupe’s warm body isn’t all over them, and her limbs aren’t touching any of theirs. Jess cracks an eye open, and all she sees is Lupe’s back to them, on the opposite side of the bed.

Chapter Text

The last thing Jess would want to do tonight is go out with the rest of the cast—well, part of it. Still. It’ll feel too much like being plunged into the elements without proper protection, what with Jess’s most vulnerable parts still being too exposed and tender for the wolves to feast on.

Because their worst fear came through—it’s made it weird. Awkward. Tense. They do much the same things, them and Lupe, to fill the days, but Lupe has definitely pulled back. Withdrawn. Reduced the amount of closeness and affection she allows. Which is just a fucking bummer.

It—it’ll pass. It may actually be better like this, for a while, not to expose themselves and their bond too much to the people’s judgment. They’ve already fed them more than they deserve.

At least, when all else fails, baseball never does.

“Come on, hit me with your best shot, García,” Jess hits the palm of their gloved hand with their fist.

They’re squatting at the diamond, facing a Lupe who’s nothing less than radiant on the mound. Like always. She's got that cocky grin, that confident stance, that I’m-gonna-crush-you air about her that has Jess hyper aware of their own body, their own vitality, like they can’t not also start burning from the inside out while faced with such brilliance.

It’s their team’s not-so-secret winning ingredient. Not only is Lupe as good as she appears to be, she’s… magnetic. When she comes out to play, the crowd goes literally wild. They love her.

Who could not.

“You’re so damn cheesy, McCready,” Lupe feigns a long-suffering sigh. She’s just being even more cocky.

They’re just warming up, but Lupe never loses an opportunity to show off, especially when she’s being filmed. This is their turf, so everybody better watch and learn.

Jess, on their part, could never claim not to be good. No, they are damn good too. After ending up with burning hands thanks to Lupe’s balls, they pick up their bat. Their favorite bat that an old coach back in Moose Jaw gifted them. It has served them well over the years.

“Alright, somebody is showing off,” Lupe shields her eyes with a hand as she watches the ball fly out of the park.

“Look who’s talking,” Jess spits on the ground, then flashes their best grin at Lupe.

Lupe mirrors it.

They're good. The best team. Jess should've never doubted it.

Lupe walks up to her for a high five, but Jess takes advantage of it to tackle her.

“No, don't you dare—”

This wrestling match is much sweatier and dirty, as they end up falling and rolling on the ground. Lupe gets the upper hand, straddling her, pinning their arms to the ground with viciousness, her grin downright wolfish.

Jess smirks up at her. Their chest is rising and falling fast.

Then their eyes meet, and the position they’re in clicks in both of their brains. It registers in Jess's entire body too, Lupe's legs around their hips, the vice-like grip of her hands, right where their pulse point is. Lupe must feel how quick it is.

Shit. This is only more fodder. When it's just rough housing between… bros.

In a flash, Lupe releases Jess's arms like she’s been burned, and she gets off them and up. Jess stays a moment longer on the floor, berating themself for being, or maybe just appearing, such a doormat for Lupe. They'll think them weak. Pathetic.

Lupe stretches her hand out to them, and Jess grabs it anyway. Lets her help them up. They'd let Lupe guide them anywhere.

“Gotta work on your curve a little more,” Jess's brain provides them, and isn’t that great? Smart? True? Much better than bubbling something stupid about what kinda awkwardness just happened.

Lupe rolls her eyes, “Shut up.”

“No, I'm serious, you were a little off.”

Lupe grumbles, as she starts walking away, “You really aren’t the coach.”

Jess smirks, “Hm, you saying I could be?”

Lupe eyes them up and down, and Jess absolutely does not stop breathing for a second at that, “Actually, yeah. But…” Lupe's finger jabs, close to painfully, Jess's chest, “you gotta work on that swing.”

Jess grumbles back, “Now who’s being the coach.”

“We could be co-coaches together,” Lupe's eyes shine with mischief, but there's also something genuine there, “once we retire.”

Jess makes an impressed face, “Now that is a great plan if I ever heard one.” Because one certainty is that Lupe is going to be part of their future, in one way or another. This is one of the best options.

Lupe smiles, shrugging smugly, “I’ve always got great plans.”

It’s Jess's turn to roll their eyes, “Debatable.”

To soothe the sting of their teasing—to avoid circling dangerous waters—Jess wraps their arm around Lupe’s shoulder as soon as she starts scoffing under her breath, and that seems to do the trick. Lupe laughs, and Jess soon follows.

And so they go back home, still sweaty, still smiling, with Jess's arm still hanging loosely around Lupe's shoulders. All awkwardness, for now—hopefully forever—forgotten.

“Hm,” Lupe stares at their reflections in the bathroom mirror, “don't we look quite handsome.”

“Of course we do,” Jess smirks, as they try to readjust the collar of their shirt. The back is being stubborn.

“Come here,” Lupe shakes her head, placing a hand on their shoulder to turn Jess towards her.

Dangerous waters. The last time Lupe did something for Jess, it ended up with them kissing. This level of domesticity will surely be frowned upon. Suspicious, that guy had said—Martin, Jess learned that his name is.

But again, Jess is putty under Lupe's skilled yet gentle hands. Jess tries to look anywhere but at her as she concentrates on Jess's collar, fixing it for them. The mirror is a good diversion, except that the image of them both together is quite a lot to take in. So familiar. A staple in Jess's life. Yet, it has been brought to their attention that it’s a little too much for comfort.

“There,” Lupe smooths the wrinkles on their shoulders to finish her work, and Jess, after clearing their throat, turns back to face the mirror directly. Perfect. Now they’re ready.

“How do you think the others are doing?” Lupe asks as they make their way to the front door.

“Ugh,” Jess shrugs, “some good, some okay, some outrageously bad.”

Lupe nods, “Very specific.”

“It’s science.”

“Don’t go sounding like Shirley now.”

“Please,” Jess grabs their chest in mock-offense, “never.”

Shirley is one of their best hitters, as well as one of the smartest people on the team. Nothing to be ashamed of in being compared to her, except that Jess prides themself in having so much more swagger than her.

As they reach the street downstairs, and they see the two vans that will take them and Lupe in two different directions, Jess's stomach churns uncomfortably again. Not only at the prospect of chatting with the others and possibly, probably stirring up some drama—Veronica will undoubtedly be in Jess's party—but at having to separate from Lupe in the first place.

It’s just a few hours, nothing to write home about. And it’s not like they usually spend all their time together. But Jess suddenly realizes how used they’ve gotten to having Lupe around all the time during this past week. The first week is almost through, and Jess wishes that time would stop running so fast for a second.

Just because they have, most of the time, fun together. And Jess has the suspicion that their time with Emma will be much less fun, and much more difficult to navigate.

“See you later then?” Lupe says, looking back at them with a foot already towards the van waiting for her.

And Jess snaps out of their reverie, not very nicely. Because, especially after unearthing that memory just a few days ago, this sentence, coming from Lupe, is charged. It's weird to hear. It makes Jess mistrustful that they'll ever even see Lupe again.

Oh, stop being so damn dramatic. Of course they will. Not only, they'll be sharing a bed with her in a few hours, for how awkward that has become.

“Yeah, see you later, Lu.”

Lupe smiles, and sends them a small wave, as well as a lingering, more tentative look, like she’s caught the reference too—since she does remember about that time, apparently—and wants to say something about it… but then she doesn't, and turns away.

Jess watches her disappear inside the van, before they go board their own.

Or trying to. Bev stops them mid-way, “Jess, what do you say about an interview first?”

Jess groans internally.

It must read externally too, because Bev adds, “It'll be quick, I promise.”

As if Jess has got any quick word to explain what they’re feeling right now. About all of this mess.

They still stand on the crosswalk, their arms crossed, with a big ass camera pointed at them. What they do for love.

“So it’s been a big week for you, hasn't it?” Bev says, not unkindly.

Jess almost snorts, “You could say that.”

“Why didn't you say anything about this… past you've had with Lupe before?”

Straight to the chase, uh?

Jess refrains from saying, Didn’t you hear? Isn’t it obvious? “It wasn’t—what can I say? It hasn't been a factor in my life for a long time. Coming here, I didn’t ever think it would come up. I'm here to marry Emma, it has nothing to do with Lupe.”

“Yet, you chose to do the trial with Lupe.”

Bev is too good at her job, damn her. She's like a bloodhound.

“To help her. I've said it before, I think she’s not—her relationship isn’t ideal for her. I say this as her best friend, who wants the best for her.”

“So no other kind of feeling is factoring in your decisions? In your behavior with her?”

Jess shrugs again, shoving their hands deep in their pockets, “My behavior is totally normal. Yeah, we're close, maybe closer than most friends, but it's just—we're family.” They stress that word maybe more than strictly necessary. “And I'd do anything for my family.”

“But not for your girlfriend?”

Jess's eyes widen, their mouth slacks slightly open, as they watch Bev incredulously. Did she really just say that? She doesn't even blink under Jess's stare. This woman has no fear.

“Yes, also for my girlfriend,” Jess says, their jaw clenched tight, “I—in however ways I’ve failed her, that was never my intention. When it's time for our trial, I—I'm sure we'll resolve this misunderstanding.”

“Hm.” Bev doesn't add anything else. She regards Jess for another second, during which Jess doesn't move an inch, then she seems to be satisfied, and nods. “Alright. Thanks, Jess.”

Jess breathes out. Thank fucking God. “Can I go now?”

“Yeah, have fun.”

Jess can't help but huff a laugh at that. Rich coming from her.

When Jess is about to step into the van, Martin approaches them surreptitiously, “Good luck, Jess.”

Yeah. They sorely need it.

The dinner is immediately a bloodshed. It doesn't take long before the cat is out of the bag, a terrible cat that Jess wishes they could unhear. Because it only makes their blood boil more than it already does when it comes to—

“I don't understand why you're so butthurt about it, this is part of the game,” Veronica is saying to a Jo whose face is red and seemingly about to explode.

“Oh right!” Jo bursts out, “This may be all a game to you, but the rest of us are staking their actual lives here. I wouldn’t expect you to understand, since you didn’t hesitate to fuck my girlfriend and cheat on yours for the hell of it.”

“My and your exes,” Veronica shoots back, with a roll of her eyes so deep that she may lose her irises. If only. “And please, it was only a light fingering. I can reassure you she enjoyed it.”

Jo splutters, her spit raining on her entire plate and maybe a few others, “She called me in tears! You—I can’t even—”

Carson places a hand on Jo's shoulder, Jess thinks for a moment that it’s to placate her, but no, it's just out of comfort and support. Carson's eyes, as well as Esther’s, are shooting daggers at Veronica. Damn right.

Veronica. Fucking. Griffith. From the very moment she landed, like a fucking wrecking ball, in Jess's life, they’ve hated her guts. For multiple and more than justified reasons. Now, finally, they’ve got the final evidence to condemn her.

Not that Jess is happy about it, they've got no idea how they’re going to break it to Lupe—actually, Lupe may learn it at her own dinner. Then, Jess will likely find themself having to pick up the pieces of an inconsolable Lupe later at home, like they’ve had to do far, far too many times in the past three years.

But, hopefully, this will be the final straw that will make Lupe finally realize what kind of person she’s let into her bed, her life, her heart—in this order—and lead her to a different choice.

Poor Flo. In all of this she was just an innocent butterfly, caught into the web of somebody much stronger than her.

Okay, enough with the metaphors. Jess has got a blood-sucking spider to face. “How easily you're able to dismiss Lupe's feelings has never failed to fucking baffle me.”

“Ah, so they speak,” Veronica turns towards Jess ever so slowly, exactly like a cat taking interest in their prey, “what an honor.”

“Is that all you've got to say?” Jess regards her just as the vermin she is, “Do you even remember who Lupe is?”

Veronica scoffs, “Do you really want to open this subject, McCready? Because you wouldn’t come out of it too hot, since you’re currently sleeping with her.” She blinks her fake eyelashes just as slowly. “Or you’d like me to believe you haven't fucked her yet?”

Jess is usually, usually, on top of their game when it comes to Veronica. They’ve had to, out of survival. They studied her, learned her from the inside out, top to bottom, until they could say they knew her even better than Lupe does.

That's how they know immediately that they're at a disadvantage. Veronica is worse than Bev, she knows how to smell those tender, meaty parts, and she has even less qualms about digging her teeth into them. Jess, if they’re not extremely careful, is beat.

Their prolonged silence in search for the appropriate come back is already a mistake. A give away. “Tsks,” Veronica laughs, “and I thought you’d jump on that in a microsecond. I guess I overestimated you.”

Jess takes a long, deep breath. They’re not a newborn lamb. They’ve got their own teeth. They lean back on their chair and cross their arms confidently, “Yeah, you keep playing your little game of who fucked who, Griffith. While us adults get married.”

The other three make sounds of approval at the burn.

Veronica’s hands, likely without her even realizing it, grab her tissue and start pulling on it, shredding it. Jess has made a dent. The battle is far from over, though. Veronica leans closer to the table, “Oh, just admit it already, Jess. It’s getting ridiculous.”

Jess knows what she’s fishing for, which is just vile. Jess can only double down on their glare at her. As they don't really know the rest of these people, so who’s to say they’re not out for the gossip, ready to watch their rivalry play out?

But no, they’re clearly on Jess' side, not willing to take any of Veronica’s bullshit. All of them are staring her down as one unit alongside Jess, as Veronica leans even closer and points a finger at them, “I stole your girl, didn’t I? Admit that you were aiming for her before I got into the picture.” 

How does Veronica know? Did Lupe tell her? Jess has trouble believing that, since it was apparently a non-issue for Lupe.

Then, which is worse, Veronica is just that good. She put two and two together. It may not have been that hard for her, as those first few months, hell, maybe a year since she started dating Lupe and Jess had to, quietly, seethingly, put up with her presence, Jess had not been pleasant to her—not that they ever have been, but they have become better at hiding their dislike. Especially with Emma by their side, who quickly became Veronica’s friend, for some reason. 

Jess, however, has apparently sat too comfortably on their conviction that Veronica couldn’t tell. That she thought Jess’s animosity was just due to the general clash of their personalities, and, later, her appalling treatment of Lupe. And not, you know, due to jealousy.

Not that now it’s still jealousy. Because it definitely is not.

Either way, Jess will never, ever, give Veronica the satisfaction of being even marginally right.

“Right,” Jess deadpans, “newsflash, Veronica, you may not know that, but the world doesn’t revolve around you.”

“Damn right,” Jo echoes, slapping the table soundly, “so just stop playing with people already! Give some respect to the person you asked to fucking marry you, and leave my Flo alone.”

Jess is liking Jo more and more.

“Your Flo wonders when you’ll give her some respect,” Veronica is still not deterred.

“That’s enough,” Esther cuts in like a razor blade, “I know the kind of person you are, it’s clear to everybody. You’re only here for your selfish gains, and that hurts all of us. But you don’t even care, do you?”

Jess also appreciates Esther, she is looking at Veronica like the vermin she is too.

“Yeah, don’t think that we will tolerate your behavior without standing up for ourselves and the people you’re hurting,” Carson says, steel on her usually kind face. Good.

Some people are still decent in this world.

Surely not Veronica. She scoffs, then smiles that sweet, venomous smile of hers, “You can think of me whatever you want, I know my worth. And I surely don’t need to soil it with the presence of the lot of you.”

And Veronica stands up, shakes her head at them all, and gathers her purse. For once, Jess could kiss her—metaphorically—for doing one kind thing, as in ridding them all of her presence.

But of course, she’s already got one foot in front of her, yet she can’t not turn her head towards Jess for one final blow. She puts a hand on the table to lean closer to them, and whisper dangerously, “She’s my girl. Don’t ever forget that.”

Jess fucking hates her. And the worst part is that she’s right. Lupe is hers, for as long as Lupe wants to be. And Jess can’t really do much about it. Their plan is barely working, actually, their attempt to show Lupe a different option has put a strain in their bond instead of solidifying it. As Veronica finally does leave, Jess is left with the bitter taste of her triumphant smile.

Damn it all to hell. Maybe they should leave too, but they’re currently a bit rooted on their seat. As if poisoned. Jess chooses to resume eating then, to fuel themself with something better. Thankfully, the others don’t comment, and do the same.

Until Jess feels their foot being nudged, and they raise their eyes to meet Esther’s gaze, between concerned and amused, “Is it true, Jess? You and García?”

Carson clears her throat, sending an alarmed look Esther’s way, “I don’t think they want to discuss that…”

Esther raises a hand, “Nah, don’t speak for Jess. They can stand up for themself. Plus, we’re here for this. If you’ve got something to get off your chest, we’re your best option at the moment, Jess.” Esther shrugs, “It’s not like we’re in a place to judge either.”

Jo huffs a laugh, “Yeah. I mean, I am not disliking being with Emma after all.” Jess quirks an eyebrow at her, and Jo’s gaze turns alarmed, “I mean, not in that way! Nothing has happened! We just have good chats, a good time. She’s a very good, smart person.”

Yeah, she is. For some reason, that thought makes Jess feel even worse.

So they look at these people, these other crazy people who have agreed to go through this circle of hell for whatever their reason is, and, well, they’ll know all about it eventually anyway, won't they? When they’ll have to watch the show.

Jess, in the meantime, right now, while they’re still living it, could use some—maybe not help, but at least some support.

“It’s—” Jess huffs, “it’s not like that.” They meet the others’ eyes, who look kind of doubtful. They are a bit nosey, aren’t they? “Not really. We—in the past we almost, almost dated. Before Veronica came into the—ugh, she is fucking right.”

Jess has faced losses in the past, brutal defeats at the hands of opposing teams, but this may be their worst one, to the least deserving person.

And they see it, the pity in the others’ eyes. Only salt in the wound.

“But now all I care about is helping Lupe see that Veronica isn't the right person for her. Right? I mean, I may be a little biased, but I’m not tripping, am I?”

“You definitely are not,” Carson says, “I could tell immediately that Veronica has got a—a not very nice grip on Lupe. And I feel bad for her too, Lupe is such a kind person under all that prickliness. She doesn’t deserve being treated like this.”

Jess, despite themself, smiles at the thought of somebody else seeing Lupe for who she is. They sigh, "Lupe doesn’t like being made out to be the victim, though. She isn’t, she’s an active participant in all this, and I don't want her to think I don’t respect her choices. But I just—” They shake their head.

And notice the little smirk on Esther’s face right before she speaks, “Are you sure you're not a lot biased? That you don’t think nobody is right for Lupe, except yourself?”

Nobody on this fucking show pulls any fucking punches.

Carson's and Jo's expressions—biting their lips, the oh shit written on their faces—would be kind of funny if they weren't at Jess's expense.

Jess opens their mouth, but quickly closes it because nothing mature nor unrevealing would come out of that. That is—that is false. They want Lupe to be happy, and they've made peace with the fact that it won't be with them. They have. They’re sure that, out there, there is… there has to be somebody who will love Lupe right. They are even willing to go find her for Lupe, if worse comes to shove.

“I mean no harm, Jess,” Esther says, a bit more gently, at Jess's stubborn silence, “I'm just saying that, well, you've got a… second chance with Lupe now, don't you? Your marriage is already up in the air, both you and Emma are here to figure out who's right for you, right? So,” Esther shrugs, a kinder smile on her face that is still a little mischievous, “just shoot your shot.”

“They do say all is fair in love and war,” Carson declares, a similar grin on her face.

And Jess, damn them, is starting to be influenced by it. They look at Jo with some kind of franticness, “You won’t tell Emma about what we’re sayi—”

“No, no, of course not,” Jo places a reassuring hand on Jess's shoulder. “Come on, this is a very shitty, awkward situation for us all, what with dating each other’s girlfriends and all, but I guess each of us's got to make their own decisions in the end, don't you think?”

And Jess, somberly, nods. They think of Emma. They think of Lupe. And, suddenly, they don’t know what's up or down anymore.

Shit.

“But enough about me,” Jess says as their last resort, “how's it going for you all, uh?”

A collective grimace. Fantastic.

Jo is the first to sigh, “I'm just worried sick about Flo now, and it’s affecting my process, I know it. It’s not fair to Emma either, but—I can’t help but think this is all my fault that Flo and I are even in this situation. I should’ve just married her long ago.”

“There must be a reason why you haven't, though,” Carson says pointedly, “or it would’ve worked out already.”

Jo huffs, “Thanks. Very helpful, Shaw.”

“Let her deal with her own choice, Jo,” Esther says, “none of us are victims here. So just focus on your own process, on figuring out what you want. That’s what we all can do.”

Jess nods. Esther speaks too many truths. “And that's working out for you?” Jess asks her. Not unkindly, but maybe a little prickly.

Esther deflates a little, “It’s… going. But mostly, we’re just fumbling in the dark, Greta and I.”

Carson's face, next to her, deflates a little too. They all turn to her, and Carson's eyes widen in alarm at the attention. “Uhm, Max and I are actually having a good time. Not—not like that,” she rushes to say, “but we are figuring out what we want. Or, or really we're just trying to understand what we're doing wrong. In our relationships.”

Esther huffs a laugh, “Good luck with that.”

Carson bites her lips, stung by the jab. Her “Thanks,” isn't any less sarcastic.

Alright. They're all in deep shit, then. Great.

“For how nice it was talking to you all, I think I'm done,” Jess says.

“I couldn’t agree with you more,” Esther says.

“Yes, thank you, let’s go,” Carson says.

And they all start scrambling to get up and out as quickly as possible. It is funny.

“I could use a smoke,” Esther says.

Jess snaps their fingers at her, “That’s the best idea you've had so far.”

Esther rolls her eyes at them, but does laugh.

The evening ends with a great, silent smoke outside the restaurant—except for Carson who just hangs with them for company—and all in all this has turned out better than Jess could've hoped for. They just want to go back home now, and lick their wounds.

They wonder what weather Lupe will be in when she gets back, though. And how treacherous Jess's heart will be in seeing her after the very controversial advice they’ve just received.

Because now that the thought of giving it another shot has been put in their mind, in their heart, it will be harder to keep it in check.

“I’m so sorry, Lupe,” Flo’s eyes are trained to the table, slightly red, definitely dejected. Guilty.

The rest of the group is looking between her and Lupe, at a loss of what to say. Emma included, who's got her arms crossed, her lips pressed tight, and what looks like contrition on her face. She has no faults, but she sure is friends with Veronica.

Veronica, who has—and Lupe knew it, didn't she? She kind of already expected this of her. And now that it’s real, it happened, Lupe has no idea how she should feel about it. On one hand, they vetoed fucking someone else. On the other, they’re technically exes now, so how can Lupe truly condemn her?

One thing she can do, at least, is reassure Flo, “It’s fine, Flo. It's—it’s part of the game, isn't it?”

“But,” she shakes her head, wiping her eyes with her thumb, “yeah, sure, that's what she said. And I wanted to believe it, you know? Get loose, do something just for myself for once. But it just felt… wrong. Yeah, that's it.”

“Then that's it,” Lupe shrugs, “you gave it a try, didn't like it, you move on. Isn’t that what this is all about?”

Greta eyes her curiously, “You’re surprisingly level-headed about this. I’m not sure I would be as much if Max here had fingered my ex.”

Max's eyes widen comically, and she raises her hands in surrender, “Please, I wouldn’t—”

Greta laughs at her, “Relax.” Then she looks pointedly at Lupe, waiting for an answer.

Lupe shrugs again, “I find it harmless. It's just sex. It won't kill Veronica and I, we’re no strangers to threesomes.”

Greta smirks at her, impressed.

“Well,” another voice raises up, and Lupe turns towards Emma in trepidation, “I hope you don’t think that's true for most people. Because I would not like it if you—you fucked my… ex. If you haven't already.” Her voice breaks, and she holds her arms even tighter to herself. Emma isn’t meeting Lupe's eyes, but not out of shyness. She looks truly pissed off.

Lupe needs to be careful. Jess's future is at stake. And in the sudden frigidity of the air around the table, Lupe sighs, “Emma. You know I haven't. I wouldn’t. Jess is my family, I told you time and time again.”

“Yeah, like a partner is family,” Emma spits out. “Come on, everybody knows now, so stop lying. Tell the truth for once.”

Christ almighty. “I do not love Jess, for fuck’s sake! I love Veronica, and I'm gonna stay with her.”

Emma doesn't budge, and Lupe now is getting unlevel-headed.

“Guys, please,” Greta says, “there's no need to fight right now.”

“Oh, there is,” Emma bites back, “there sure is.”

“Well, then take it somewhere else, because this has nothing to do with us,” Max cuts in, crossing her arms too.

Lupe and Emma share a brief, tense glance, then they break it off again. Yeah, Lupe has no wish to fight. It isn’t fair to the others. Flo looks properly frozen on the spot, barely able to cope with the tension on top of her own inner turmoil.

“You'll see,” Lupe says between gritted teeth, “this is all I'm going to say.” And she gets up, “I need a smoke.”

She doesn't wait for a response to leave the table. Her hands fumble in lighting up the cigarette outside, and she can't even blame the cold, as it isn’t remotely cold. No, it's all anger. What has everybody smoked to see such an altered reality? And be so damn stubborn about it too. Lupe is getting to the end of her fucking rope about figuring out how to disprove such a preposterous accusation.

She wishes Jess were here. They need to talk to their girlfriend, not Lupe. They need to come clean about those—those past feelings of theirs or whatever they were. They were so inconclusive, such a non-issue, that Lupe gets even more frustrated at the fact that they still seem to be causing so much trouble.

Except that they may not have been so… unremarkable. Lupe had never seen such emotions, such disappointment and anger and pain on Jess's face as during their confrontation the other day. Emotions about her. Because of her.

But she had thought it better not—not to go, not to cross that bridge with Jess at the time, and she doesn't regret her choice. They’ve done great these past years. Their bond has only grown, only strengthened. And Lupe won't allow anybody to do it any harm, Jess included. Their bruised ego will heal.

“Hey,” Lupe hears Max’s voice before she sees her approach.

Lupe, wordlessly, hands her her pack.

“No thanks,” Max says, “I've quit.”

Lupe scoffs, “Nerd.”

Max rolls her eyes, as she leans on the wall right next to Lupe, crossing her ankles. “So what's up?”

What a kid. “What's up you. How's it going with dear Carson?”

“Good,” Max says with a shrug, “lots of processing and smiling through the pain. But you know it, you've dated her.”

“Oh yeah,” Lupe shakes her head, amused, but also a bit fond, “well, I'm glad for the two of you.”

Max hums, “Now stop dodging the question. What's up with you and Jess?”

“Nothing, hell,” Lupe is already tired of having to repeat it, “everybody is tripping about this, I swear to fucking God.”

Max hums again, “You sure about that?” And she raises an eyebrow at her, “Or is it that we all see clearly what you can’t or don’t want to see? That the big skeptic may in fact be the one in big love with her best friend?”

Lupe groans loudly, “This is not a romcom. Sure, it may be a reality TV show, but that would be too damn predictable, wouldn’t it?”

“Hey, part of the drama has already happened,” Max shrugs nonchalantly, “people will eat up that choice mess.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.”

“So why not…” Max shoves her with her shoulder, chuckling under her breath, “lean into it? Did you really never wonder about Jess?” And she wiggles her eyebrows, smug.

Damn her. Absolutely not. Definitely not.

Except that she has. Once upon a time, on a stupid night, Lupe had… wanted Jess. Had wanted Jess enough to accept to go on a date with them. Hell, she would have had a date with them that night. She almost kissed them that night.

At the thought, Lupe licks her lips. It can't be, it’s been too many days, but Lupe would swear she still feels the phantom of Jess's lips against them.

“Mhm.”

Shit. She had forgotten about Max. And now her silence is damning.

Max, however, steps off the wall and looks at her with far too understanding, gentle eyes, “It’s not that bad to be a romantic fool from time to time, you know.”

In Lupe's experience, it definitely is.

Lupe averts her eyes, “Listen, tell the others I'm gonna go, okay? I'm not in the mood for more drama.” She steps off the wall. “Keep reassuring Flo that it’s alright. Jo will forgive her.”

Max, with a frown, merely nods, “What are you gonna do?”

Lupe shrugs once more, “Go for a walk. It's such a nice night tonight. Don't you think, romantic fool?”

Max sighs, “Yeah. And who knows what can happen. Maybe you'll end up meeting Jess.”

This kid is too bold for her own good.

“Goodnight, Max.”

One camera tries to follow Lupe on the street, but she rounds on them, “Can I have one goddamn moment by myself? Please?”

The cameraman swallows, “Yeah, sure. Sorry.”

All a bunch of kids.

Lupe wanders aimlessly through the city, and can finally breathe more easily again.

She already thought this experience would be hard, a fucking travesty, but the last thing she thought it would be is a possible catalyst for total destruction of her nice, peaceful, hard-acquired life.

If she’d had that sense, like hell she would've come here. But now it's too late, and all she can do is cut her losses and try to get through it as unscathed as possible.

Lupe finds a bench in a little park, and sits on it. Passes her hands on her face to shake herself off from whatever stupor she’s in, but ends up burying it in them for a long moment. Groaning. As her mind wanders.

How is the group’s night out going for Jess? God, Veronica will be there, and Jess will surely learn what she has done… Please, Jess, don't do anything stupid. Lupe doesn't need protection. She knows well enough how to protect herself.

Do you?

Yes. Case in point, things with Veronica had been going pretty well before the whole proposal disaster. Lupe knows that Veronica is not the easiest person to be with, yet she handles it. Handles her.

And she avoided another disaster by not dating Jess back then. So see? She's good at it.

She sighs. She’d just like to go home, her real home, familiar and camerasless, and fall into a comfortable, dreamless sleep into Jess's arms.

Veronica’s. She meant Veronica. See? This is all fucking with her head. And the others don’t help at all either.

Why not lean into it?

How dares she? What does Max know? What does anybody know about her bond, her history, her future with Jess. Or Veronica.

Fuck, she needs to make sure that Jess hasn't done anything stupid, like argue with Veronica again. Like telling her to stay away from Lupe, which wouldn’t be beyond them.

She could text Veronica and ask her about it, about her motivation too… but that’s against the rules. They can’t be in contact until their trial marriage.

Fucking shit. Don’t think about her, then.

Hey, how's it going?, she sends Jess.

It’s not long, surprisingly, before Jess answers, Alright. We’re just leaving. You?

Relief starts flooding Lupe's system. Went for a walk, don't exactly know where I am.

Less than a beat later, Send me the location.

Lupe, despite herself, smiles. And sends Jess her location. 

She stands up as she waits, pacing around the bench like a trapped animal. No, not trapped. Happy, at the very least, at the fact that Jess will be here soon. She missed them.

As a friend. One can miss their friends.

“Hey, stranger.”

Lupe grins up at Jess, relieved, but then her face falls as she sees the cameras following them.

Jess grimaces, “I’m sorry. I told them to leave us alone, but it's that contract we signed, about the requirements of filming…”

Lupe huffs out loudly. Hates her past self for signing that stupid contract. “Yeah, fine, whatever.”

“Sorry,” Jess repeats, more quietly.

Lupe shakes her head—even if Jess did convince her to come here, so it is a little their fault—and sits back on her bench.

Jess sits down next to her. “How—how are you feeling?”

Lupe looks at her in confusion. Why such hesitation and worry in Jess's voice?

Oh, right. Veronica. Fingering Flo. Lupe can't help herself—she snorts, “It's fine.”

Jess's raises skeptical eyebrows.

“Really,” Lupe says, “it's—we agreed to do this, didn't we? These are the risks.”

“Did you agree to fuck others?” Jess sounds even more skeptical.

“No,” Lupe says, then rushes to add, “but it's fine. If it's what she needs, who am I to stop her process?”

“What process, Lu?” Jess says, and there's that anger again that they always have when talking about Veronica. “It seems to me like she’s just doing whatever she pleases for the hell of it, and doesn't care about anybody else's feelings, especially yours.”

Like every other time they argue about Veronica's ways, a heavy silence falls that Lupe hates just as all those times. This time, though, a nagging thought enters her brain that had never been there before. What if—what if Jess is so intense about it because they are… jealous? Of Veronica?

No. No, it can't, they can’t be—

Lupe looks sideways at Jess, who’s biting their lips like they always do when they realize they’ve gone too far. Said too much. But beyond the usual, Lupe tries looking for it. For everything else she may have missed all this time. The tight clench of Jess's jaw, the tight fist of their hands. The slump in their shoulders, like burdened by too heavy of a weight. They definitely look like they’re still holding back, like they could go on and on forever about all that hurts Lupe and that Lupe should stop from hurting her.

It’s—Jess cares for her. Deeply. They're brothers. Hermanos. Jess has been next to Lupe for countless moments, the toughest times. Like when her elbow was fucking up and Lupe thought her career was ending. Like when Lupe got a fucking abortion and swore off men once and for all. Like when Lupe stopped talking to her family for good, before any reconciliation whatsoever was in sight.

Jess was there for all of it, right next to her—wrapping and massaging her arm, cooking and cleaning for her when she didn't get up from bed for days, hugging her, holding her hand at the doctors, letting her cry-but-not-really-cry on their shoulder after it was all done. Welcoming her into their own family without asking anything in return.

That's why Lupe cares the most about ensuring the survival of their bond. When or where else could she ever get a friend like this? Family like this?

Not even all her girlfriends past and present put together could ever compare.

That thought hits her like lightning on her head, making it explode in a thousand little pieces. It all happens so fast that she barely realizes how everything has changed in her. She only feels herself burning.

She stands up.

“Lu?”

She ignores Jess's worry, and starts pacing in front of the bench again, holding herself like she could collapse inward otherwise.

“Hey, you okay?” Jess says, not quite meeting her eyes. “I’m sorry, alright? I overstepped again. I promise I will shut up about Veronica.”

“No.” Is that her voice? God, it sounds rough.

And it surprises Jess too, “No? What do you mean?”

What does she mean? “I—I’m tired of shutting up. Of never talking about things that really matter.” And she holds her breath as she feels the heaviess of her own words.

Jess pauses for a long moment too. Then, still unsure, “Okay.”

“No,” Lupe shakes her head, passes a hand on her face to not see the cameras surrounding them, posted behind trees as if it gives them any real privacy. She appreciates the sentiment, but still. “Jess, I—”

She turns to Jess, still sitting on the bench, yet they’re now looking up at her with what looks like fear mixed with the confusion on their face. Lupe would like to reassure them, but she doesn’t even understand herself what is happening. What she wants to say.

“I did,” she swallows the mega-lump that has formed in her throat, “I did want to go on that date with you, okay?”

The shock on Jess's face rains like lightning too, morphing their whole face. At what she said, or maybe the fact she brought this topic up again at all. Or both.

“I—” Jess shakes themself off, “I know. It's okay.”

“No, it's not okay,” Lupe keeps pacing again, she just can’t stay still, “I wanted to, and I was about to—to come. I was on my way.”

Jess's face changes again, this time turning stunned like stone.

But Lupe can't stop her words now, “I just stopped at a bar to—to get the edge off, and instead I—I got fucking drunk, and the more I drank the more it seemed like a terrible decision.” She’s breathing hard, she knows it, “So that when I saw her—Veronica—I just… jumped on it. On her.”

Lupe has to close her eyes, as memories of that night she's tried to banish rush through. For how blurry, they’re strikingly clear.

Her pocket is vibrating. Veronica laughs against her mouth when she pulls away. The Uber driver has a clear look of distaste as he drives them home. To Lupe's home.

“Are we almost there?” Veronica asks, sweet, inebriating.

Lupe nods, peeks at the phone in her pocket. Hermano looks back at her, mockingly. 2 missed calls, dozens of messages too.

Her intoxicated brain stutters. She looks between Veronica’s face, her wet, kiss-bitten lips—by her—then back at her phone.

Hermano. Hermano.

Yes, Jess, I think I'd like that.

Jess is waiting, has been waiting for her for hours, while she fucked this random, albeit gorgeous, girl in a fucking bathroom. And now she's taking her home.

“Everything alright, darling?” Veronica asks, placing a hand on her wrist. She glances down, she must read the name on the screen. Or not, Lupe isn’t that clear minded to be sure. Veronica wouldn't understand the meaning anyway.

Lupe opens her mouth. She could tell her the truth—or maybe better not, but she could tell her she’s got an emergency. That she's got to go. And then she could go to Jess, right now, all fucked up as she is, and beg for their forgiveness.

Or better, she could answer their call and explain, mostly, the situation. Ask for a raincheck. Do it again, another time, start with a better footing. Then cross that bridge for real, and date Jess. Kiss those daring lips of theirs. Call Jess hers. Seal their bond in a whole other way.

For a moment, the two roads unravel in front of Lupe in striking clarity. She sees all the possibilities, all the possible endings. She weighs the pros and cons. The better pros are definitely with Jess. But also the worst of the worst cons.

And Lupe makes a sensible, safe choice that only a drunk person possibly in love with her best friend could do.

She kisses Veronica.

Lupe looks at Jess again, and feels like the worst shit to ever have been shat. “When you called me I was in an Uber with her.”

Jess has turned different shades of colors, red and green and white, as Lupe talked. Their widened, horrified eyes are averted from her, and Lupe just hopes they would look at her for one second. Reassuring her that they're going to be alright.

Instead Jess’s gaze only tightens, narrows, steels itself as they say, “Fuck, Lu. Why? Why would you do that?”

“Think—think about it, Jess,” Lupe says, laughing, a shaky laugh, as she’s never felt less amused in her life, “us, together? You—you would’ve gotten sick of me in the blink of an eye, or—or worse, you would’ve started hating me as they all do, and then I would’ve lost you! I—” she swallows, “I care about us more than that.”

Jess finally stands up, even if they’re still not looking at her. They take their head in their hands and spin around, as if trying to look for a sense in all of this.

Lupe is rooted on the spot, terrified out of her mind, in disbelief that she even revealed all of this, when she tried so hard to act like it never happened.

“How—how did you even manage to pretend you didn’t remember our date? That you didn’t receive my calls, my messages?” Jess asks, as a matter of fact. A similar disbelief, a concentration of pain in their voice.

“I had to,” Lupe spits out, “we couldn’t make that mistake. It would’ve ruined us.”

Jess shakes their head, presses a hand on their forehead as they let out one, bitter laugh, “Sure, maybe. But you let me think I was a fucking idiot, you left me hanging out to fucking dry. You know I could’ve stopped being your friend for that? You couldn’t have rejected me fucking decently?”

Lupe shuts her mouth, pressing her lips together. Yeah, she made a bargain. She trusted Jess enough to go on with the program that she crafted, and that is exactly what happened. Problem solved.

Yet, it never was. It got shoved under the rug, left to rot and fester. If they don’t solve it now, it may ruin them for real.

“I’m sorry,” Lupe says, even if it sounds weak to her own ears, “I—I’ve got no excuses. I’m a fucking asshole.”

“Yeah, you are,” Jess says, but their voice is much less bitter than before. More sad. And Jess, finally, looks her in the eye.

Lupe swallows some more, with effort. She doesn’t move an inch, exposing herself to Jess’s mercy, or their punishment. She’ll do anything they want to earn their forgiveness. Regain their trust.

“Alright,” Jess seems to answer her thoughts, “since it’s clear we’re not really over it… if you’re feeling bad about it, then make it up to me now. Reject me now, to my face,” they sigh, “so that we can fucking move on.”

And for some reason, that simple request freezes Lupe’s entire body. It’s scary, its intensity. Lupe’s mouth tries to move, she wants to fulfill Jess’s wishes. One wish. She owes them at least that. And yet, “I—I can’t.”

What? Did she really say that?

Jess frowns hard, “What do you mean, you can’t? I think you owe me at least this, Lu.”

Yeah, she does. She does. Come on. Do it. Say it. Jess, I didn’t, I don’t want to go out with you. I don’t want you.

Lupe’s mouth manages to open again, but all that comes out is stuttering air. And she has to turn around, start pacing again, find her own sense under her feet, because it’s currently feeling shifty. Unstable.

“Lu?” Jess’s voice catches on her name, full of disappointment, begging for this one mercy. For both of them. They need to move on.

And Lupe rounds back on them, ready to do it. To fix it. She can— “I can’t reject you, because I don’t want to, okay!”

Wait, what? No, that’s not what she meant to say. What she’s supposed to say. It’s exactly the opposite, what the fuck? Take it back. Take it back now.

But no more words want to come out of her, to rectify, to explain.

And Jess looks even more shocked than before, blinking hard at her as if trying to solve an impossible quiz, “What does that mean? You can’t just say stuff like this, Lu. Do you prefer stringing me along, is that it?”

“N—no. No,” so you do know how to form words, “of course not!”

“Then what do you mean?” 

What, in the hell, does she mean? Why is she not behaving? Why can’t she do this one thing, the right thing, for once in her life?

Lupe looks at her own shoes. A new sensation is cursing through her veins, one she’s intimately familiar with. Shame. Not even when everything is on the line, can she do it right.

“Hey,” and there it is, Jess’s voice, softened for her, needing to come to reassure her, comfort her, like all the fucking time. Lupe hears Jess’s steps getting closer, “It’s alright, okay? You’re not going to lose me.”

With a thicker swallow, Lupe looks up at Jess. Their face, so dear. So perfect. So caring. Loving. Good-hearted.

Lupe blinks a sudden dampness in her eyes, “Ever?”

“Ever,” Jess smiles just as softly, “so it's okay, just say it.”

Lupe takes a deep breath, and opens her mouth again, “I—” 

Her head shakes on its own accord, and she has to turn around, walk away, a few steps. She keeps her gaze lowered not to catch the cameras, or it would end her.

Jess, behind her, sighs, “Lu, what's wrong?”

Her heart is pumping wildly. She doesn’t know what has gotten into her. Or, she knows. She knows too well. She's known, but didn’t want to let herself. What does she do with this knowledge now, though? What good can it do? Or has done?

I think you’re in love with your fucking best friend.

Veronica knows it too. How long has she known and never said anything? And now, she’s sticking her fingers in conflicted girls for—for sport? For the high of it? What of them? What of the marriage she claims she wants?

But the truth of the matter is that Lupe barely even cares.

“Everything,” Lupe says, and that may be the first truth she tells herself in a long time. She turns back toward Jess, even if now many more feet are in between them. As well as years. Feelings. Moments. Choices. Regrets.

Jess bites hard on their lips at that, their face now a mixture of too many emotions to name, and doesn't speak. Lets the silence reign.

It’s Lupe's turn to fill it, “Everything is wrong, Jess. Because what if I've fucked up? Back then. And all this time. What if I—I made the wrong choice?”

Jess inhales sharply, but still doesn't move, doesn't say anything.

“But I don't have a good track record in relationships,” Lupe says, defeated, “you know that, you see it. Hell, you're on a fucking crusade to fix my life for me. But I don't know if that’s fixable, because maybe I'm the problem. So how could I, how can I ask you, who is so good, to—” she swallows, “when I'm such a bad partner?”

Jess takes a step, shaking their head firmly, “That’s not true.”

Lupe scoffs, “How can it not be?”

“You,” Jess's face morphs in something painful, almost angry, “you've always been a great partner to me.”

Lupe's shoulders slump, “Just… just as a friend. That’s different.”

“It’s not as different as you think,” Jess takes another, more determined step, “it doesn't have to be.”

There's only a few feet separating them now, and Lupe still doesn't know what is happening. What she’s doing. What they’re doing. Are they really about to cross a line that can’t be uncrossed? That could potentially ruin both of their lives, their bond, their relationships? And for what?

For what?

Lupe, for the first time, dares a step. It's small and tentative, but it's there. Not only can she hear her own heartbeat in her ears, there’s something like a current of bees running under her skin. Propelling her forward.

And Jess looks her up and down, slowly, like they're seeing her for the first time, fully, since they’ve been here, on this plot of grass, unveiling more layers of their past. Their present. Their future?

What does Jess see? What does Lupe want them to see? Even if she feels in very little control of her own self. Like she’s being moved by another energy, another self, one who knows the way like Lupe usually doesn't.

Their eyes meet, for just a second, and the gravity of the situation seems to register somewhat for both of them. Because they break it off, and laugh nervously. Lupe feels drunk. Just like back then.

She dares another glance at Jess, and finds them already looking back at her, “Jess, what—” she shakes her head, lets out another laugh, “what are we doing?”

Jess raises their eyebrows, like that's a question they’re only now pondering, “You tell me.”

Right, put the ball in her court. How very convenient.

But again, she is the pitcher. And she owes it to them. So she takes another step, one that takes her close enough to be able to touch Jess if she wanted to. And her hands are itching to, even as she says, “We—we can’t just… you know this would cost us everything?”

Jess's expression does turn more somber, and they nod, “I know,” yet they still take another, smaller, step, one that makes their shoes touch, their breaths intermingle.

“So it can't just be for stupid reasons, just because—” Lupe's voice dies, as her eyes land on Jess's lips, which just so happen to be very close to her. Reachable. She already knows how they taste, but she could use a refresher.

Jess's eyes land on her lips too, visibly, as their voice is now barely a whisper, “Just because what, Lu? What do you want?”

What does she want? That's always been the million dollar question.

“What do you want, Jess?” Lupe asks back, stubbornly. She does not claim to want to be the bigger person. “Didn’t you say it was all in the past?”

Jess chuckles, and Lupe feels them—Jess's fingers reach out tentatively, timidly, for hers. Their pinky fingers interlock, and Jess says, “And you believed me?”

Lupe lets out a snorting laugh. Glad to know she’s not the only one who lied. Twisted the truth to save her own face. Or heart.

And then the implication fully enters her. Rushes through her. Jess is here, in her personal space, wanting to be here. 

Is this happening? After all this time, after killing and burying it, do they find themselves in the same energy of that night, when everything had felt so much sharper and tastier, and Jess had seemed within her grasp and not an impossible dream?

But did it really have to be a reality show to lead them here, make them face it, uh? How fucking embarrassing.

Yet Lupe, for how aware of the eyes on them she is, couldn’t care less right now. All she cares about is Jess, the feeling of their fingers, their hearts beating as one. Their faces inching closer, ever more.

“I’m not supposed to want you,” it spills out of Lupe in the breath between them, even as she feels her eyes inescapably fall closed.

And Jess inescapably draws closer still, “Why?”

Lupe has to look them in the eyes, she forces her own to open, “If we’re making a mistake… if it doesn't work out…”

“Lu,” and Jess does something just for the second time ever—cups her face with their free hand, and holds it there, as their eyes bore into Lupe’s with an intensity she’s rarely seen directed at her openly like this, “you could never lose me. Ever.”

Lupe has to bite back some sound wanting to come out of her that she doesn’t trust it won't embarrass her. Undo her. She tries instead to find her anchor in Jess's gaze, in Jess's hands touching her, causing sparks to flicker on her skin, “Then is this a... chance? To try what we never dared?”

Jess, with a breath that reveals their own turmoil, takes Lupe's hand fully, interlocking their fingers together, while their other thumb caresses Lupe's cheek. Very distractedly. “Only if you want it.”

Still passing the ball. But Jess is a shortstop.

They better be ready for it to get back to them, then, “Didn’t you want to romance me, uh?” Jess's eyes darken at that, and Lupe is now less herself, and more everything she never dared to be, “Then do it, McCready. Show me what you've got.”

Even still, Lupe is not ready for Jess to rise to the challenge without hesitation.

And boy, do they do that. 

Jess's lips crash on hers like a meteorite on a planet, and Lupe has no chance but to let them reshape her. Make a dent in her composure, releasing that trapped sound. This is Jess, yet she’s not weirded out about it. On the contrary. She’s always known about, seen, felt the coil of Jess's sexual energy resting just under their skin, that even if at times it's dormant, contained, channeled into other things, it’s undeniable.

Directed at her with no more restraint, she never had any chance to resist it.

She feels her feet move backwards as Jess pushes her, and her back soon hits the trunk of a tree. They're just background sensations, though, that she takes notice of with the back of her mind.

The rest of her mind is a whirlwind, a buzzing noise that may sound like fuuuuuuuck, as it’s the rest of her body that's truly in charge, moved by an instinct that takes over every other coherent part. Which is focused on kissing Jess, feeling every part of them she can reach, feeling Jess touch her, her face, her neck, her waist, her hips. Her tongue. Lupe lets out a shaky exhale as her lips get parted by Jess's tongue, and the two meet. Saying hey, hi. I've been waiting for you.

For a long time.

After that, Lupe's instincts fire up even more, opening her mouth to let all of Jess in. To devour her.

Or maybe she's the one being devoured, but who can tell anymore. In a moment, when they both take a breath, their eyes meet, and a small laugh escapes from them. It's more frenzied than before, as the lock of their eyes is nothing less than single-minded. Seizing. Wanting.

Even if the pause seems to make something dawn on Jess, and they turn their head slightly to the side, before suddenly taking Lupe's hand and whispering in her ear, “Run.”

What? Why should she run? Not that she doesn’t follow Jess without hesitation, starting to run through the trees hand in hand with her.

And then she remembers. Will she ever fully comprehend the presence of the cameras and all they’re capturing about them? Thank you Jess, for pulling the plug on that. For leading her away, escaping from those eyes.

They've already given them enough, too much. Far too much. If they insist on following them home to film whatever is going to unfold—which Lupe has a good enough idea about—then Lupe can't be expected to respond for her actions. And Jess either.

The cameras do attempt to follow them for a while, but after they put the turbo like the athletes they are, they soon lose them. Lupe notices it a second after Jess, when she’s already being pushed against a light pole on the street, and kissed. Again. Lupe laughs against Jess's mouth. They haven't said a word since they’ve started kissing besides run, and Lupe now has to wonder again, for a moment, what the fuck they're doing. Is this just horniness? A reckless vindication? In that case, Lupe can even believe Veronica would forgive her, since, you know, tit for tat, but she still has the echo of Emma’s words, the image of her face. And for that moment, Lupe feels guilty. She told her, swore up and down that she would never do this, she’d never want to do this…

She meets Jess’s eyes again, suddenly full of vulnerability. Lupe could, should stop it right now, say they’ve done it, scratched the itch, and that's it. So they can move on with their lives, with their relationships slash marriages, with minimum damage.

Lupe opens her mouth to say it, yet she finds her own, treacherous, hands, moving on their own accord. Taking Jess's face in her hands, for the first time ever. She traces it with her fingers, as if she doesn't already know by heart all of Jess's features. But she hopes she can now get to know them by touch. With her whole body too. With her mouth, especially.

Which she does. Lupe's mouth finds Jess's chin, the corner of their lips, the higher point of their cheek, the tip of their nose, their right eyelid, the space between their eyebrows. Jess has closed their eyes, and lets out a shaky breath.

After all the air has gone out of Jess's mouth, Lupe kisses it.

They reach, stumbling, their apartment while barely stopping from kissing. The only thought able to seep through is more worry about the crew that may have entered it in the meantime. Jess suspects they’ve got their own key.

Yet the apartment is empty, so Jess locks the door behind them, and puts a chair under the handle. Let them try.

Then they turn around, and find Lupe biting her lips in amusement, a tease obvious on her face. Yet Jess is in no mood for teasing, for banter, right now. They're a fiery ball on a road to collision, and has too much momentum to stop themself. Even if they wanted to.

Which… well. They don’t.

When Lupe reads the seriousness, the intent on Jess's face, all amusement leaves hers too. And she looks at Jess with that same openness from the park, hell, from three years ago, that same hunger in her eyes that is the one thing spurring Jess on right now. Or, driving them crazy. Because they’ve dreamed of this, wanted this, despaired at the thought of not having this. Now, they’re drunk with it.

And can’t have enough. Lupe must feel that too, because she grabs them by the shirt lapels, the very same ones she fixed for them a mere few hours ago—was it really just a few hours ago?— and pulls them towards herself.

Jess goes easily. Eagerly. Finding Lupe's lips like a thirsty man in the desert, pushing her against the kitchen island where they’ve eaten for the past week.

Jess is not entirely devoid of thoughts, though. There are many eating at them, all regarding their very own girlfriend. Who is not their fiance because of… this. This, that Emma could see, and predicted. While Jess had denied. Denied to her, denied to themself. To Lupe too.

Yet, now Jess doesn't have the last laugh. No, they're guilty as charged. And they cannot even stop. From kissing Lupe, from pressing their whole body against hers, rocking their hips slightly forward just as Lupe does hers, in a grind that takes them by surprise, that has Lupe groaning in her throat.

“We've still got fucking cameras on us,” Lupe says, roughly, into their ear at that.

Shit. Jess's gears are already turning. They're not going to let voyeurism win. This is about them, and them alone.

Jess for how reluctantly, pulls away, takes Lupe's hands, and starts leading her towards the bedroom. Lupe doesn't question them, she’s not questioning one thing about all this. Because she trusts them, and Jess can’t disappoint her. This won't ruin them.

Lupe does say, as they enter the room, “You know there are cameras here to—”

Jess is not stopping here, she takes Lupe to the bathroom.

“Oh,” Lupe's eyes are huge, as Jess closes the door behind them.

And they're alone. Fully, finally, no passersby, no audience. Just them.

Jess swallows, “We don’t have to—”

But Lupe simply grabs their hand, and pulls them closer again, towards where Lupe is leaning against the bathroom sink this time. This is not the most comfortable place to—to be doing this for the first time, but it's all the luxury they’ve got.

“I want you,” Lupe whispers a breath away from their lips, and this is miles away from just a little while ago, when that sentence was preceded by I’m not supposed to. Lupe has stopped denying it all too. “But if you don’t, we—we can stop.”

Lupe is still thinking, though. Of their situation. The possible consequences. 

She's thinking too much, in Jess's opinion.

Jess brushes their lips against Lupe's neck, barely touching it, but breathing on it. They feel Lupe's breath itch, her throat working up and down.

“I’ve wanted you for too long, Lu,” Jess admits in a rough whisper, “I can’t, I don’t want to stop.”

“Then you have me,” Lupe says, and grabs them by the belt loop to press them flush against her.

Jess can't hold back the gasp that that draws out of them, but they do pull away slightly to look her in the eyes. To see the confirmation written all over Lupe's face.

So they stay still, just talking like this, through the desire in their gazes, hanging on to its energy, all its potential. And its promises.

Then it snaps, and the collision is mutual. Nothing else matters. Nothing else but this, them, in this moment, exists.

Kissing Lupe is undescribable. It had been a curiosity of theirs, when they first met, before Lupe actually became someone important in their life. Then, it had been a dream, a fantasy, a low-current desire. Before it became an ache, a want, a must. Finally, it turned into a regret, into a not-in-this-life.

What is it now? The presence, the essence of Lupe is like a second skin to them already, so to have Lupe's actual skin against theirs is like an extension of themself coming home. But it's also a taste they’ve never tasted, a sensation they've never experienced.

The duality of it is intoxicating. A push and pull between a timeless certainty that it feels they’ve had all along, and a novelty, a discovery they can’t believe they haven't made before.

It's in their hands, which seem so sure, so confident about where to go, what to feel, so that they reach the top button of Lupe’s shirt without an itch. Yet, that's when the itch happens, as the line to cross is palpable.

Jess breaks the kiss, and Lupe opens her eyes. A half-grin appears on her face, “Go ahead,” as her hands reach for Jess's buttons, “but can I do yours too?”

Jess has difficult feelings about their chest, their tits in particular—it depends on the moment whether they’d like them to be gone entirely, or to be fondled like nothing else matters. They don't know which is which until they have a reaction from direct touch.

Lupe knows, they’ve tried to explain it to her, even if they don’t know how understandable that was. Lupe, now, circles Jess with her arms, pressing her hands on Jess's back over their shirt, and says, “I just want to feel your skin.”

Jess, impulsively, kisses her, nodding into the kiss. They've got no words, only gratefulness. Only a very sudden desire for what Lupe described, which Jess craves too. Oh, if they crave to be skin to skin with Lupe.

They don't break the kiss as their hands unfasten each other’s buttons, which makes it rather ungraceful, but that’s the least of their concerns. Jess is, of course, done first, as Lupe always barely buttons her shirts—which has been a great test of strength and restraint over the years—so they end up resting their hands on Lupe's bared hips, feeling the smoothness of her skin, the solidness of her bones, the frame of her ribcage. Not quite able to move them up, but they enjoy where they are for now.

When Lupe is done with theirs, though, and both their shirts are open, hanging from their shoulders, they get closer, until their chests are pressed against one another, rising and falling in tandem with their breaths. Bared. Connected. 

Their lips don't stay idle, though. Jess's find Lupe's neck, her tongue coming out to lick her, taste her. Lupe sighs into their ear, then nibbles it with her teeth, making Jess shiver both at the rush of air and touch. That's when Jess's hands start rising up, and up, inch by inch, like pulled by a magnet. It's Lupe's lips on their jaw, her whispered, “Please,” that quickens the motion.

Jess cups Lupe’s tits from below, holding their small but perky shape. The groan Lupe lets out encourages them to dare more. Jess squeezes them, not that hard, but not too light either. Lupe groans again, pulling her head back, baring her neck for Jess's lips to trace with her tongue. Lupe's hips jerk forward, and that sparks up the rest of Jess's body, fires up the ache between their legs that has been building ever since Lupe said Everything. Their thigh slips between Lupe's legs then, and Jess is the one to groan when Lupe starts grinding on it with abandon.

And Jess's thumbs stick up, teasing, circling Lupe’s nipples, pressing into them when Lupe juts her chest into Jess's hands. Lupe's hands are holding on to their back, and that's when her nails scratch it, tracing paths that Jess hopes will stay for longer.

Jess kisses her, they were missing her lips. And they enjoy swallowing her gasp into their mouth after they pinch her nipples between thumb and forefinger.

“Fuck,” Lupe says, and that word is officially been lost forever. It belongs to Lupe and Lupe alone.

Their grind against one another is slow, but steady, and Jess is starting to sweat. Lupe grabs their chin to draw them into a kiss that makes them quite dizzy too. Lupe's tongue slides against theirs with a skill that doesn't surprise them, yet the guttural sound that it coaxes out of them still catches Jess off guard. All their nerve endings stand up to attention, get tickled and awoken by it, and one of Jess's hands moves down, grabbing Lupe's belt, pulling Lupe's pants up so that the seam presses against Lupe's cunt a bit harder.

“God, Jess,” Lupe moans, her hot mouth latching on to Jess's neck.

Jess is almost blind now, they’re all instinct and need, “Lu, can I—”

Lupe chuckles fondly, and undoes her own belt for Jess, much quicker than they would in this state, before placing Jess's hand on the button of her pants, “Go on.”

Jess kisses her. Kisses her because they need to do something with their mouth while their hand opens Lupe's pants—unfastens the button, pulls down the fly in a sound that echoes in the room in a way that has them kiss harder. Then Jess's hand is at the waistband of Lupe’s boxers, fingering it in the trepidation before the dive.

Yet Jess wasn’t expecting it to disappear so abruptly, pulled down, along with Lupe's pants, by Lupe herself. And when the fabric hits the ground, there's a moment of stillness, in which Jess's hand ends up gripping Lupe's now bared lower hip to get a grip on their own self, as they don't dare look down at Lupe's nakedness quite yet. The thought of it alone is overwhelming. 

So Jess keeps peppering small kisses down Lupe's jaw and neck, feeling Lupe's quickened pulse under their mouth, hearing her panting breath. And the realization that this is Lupe baring herself to them, hits them more the longer it lasts.

Jess's hands, instead of going down then, go up, cupping Lupe's face as they look at her. Their best friend. They can’t even imagine their life without her anymore. Lupe has been next to her for so long, through thick and thin, through Jess's whole gender crisis and consequent rollercoaster, never letting it change the way she looked at them for one second. No, Lupe kept seeing Jess for who they really were, no matter what it looked like from the outside, and she became the lighthouse Jess pointed at all throughout, until they came out of the fog and landed at home in their own body. With Lupe, unwavering, still by their side.

The emotions of it all swirl through Jess now, all that they feel and have ever felt for her. They're so intense that Jess could crumble under their weight, yet they choose instead to compact them into one coherent form to channel, in the face of the emotions they see in Lupe's eyes. Familiar ones, like fear. A vulnerability she seldom shows, that she’s giving to Jess without holding back. Jess can't let it go to waste. They need to take every single gift they're being given and cherish it if it kills them.

Jess lays their forehead against Lupe's, and breathes her in, “It’s just you and me, Lu. Just you and me.”

Lupe draws in a surprised breath. She doesn’t speak. Jess feels Lupe's hands trace their sides, their stomach, their back, their shoulders, and Jess removes their own hands from Lupe's face just to shrug their shirt off. There. They want to bare themself to Lupe too, even if Jess always feels naked in front of her, like no filter, fabrics included, can stop Lupe's piercing gaze to reach their core.

Lupe's eyes do drink her in now, along with her hands’ continued wandering in a sea of goosebumps. She doesn’t reach too high on their chest, though, and Jess is so undone by that consideration—they often have to remind Emma to this day—that their lips find Lupe's hungrily again. Then her face, her neck, down, until they reach her clavicles, her upper chest, at which point Lupe shrugs her own shirt off too, and Jess dares to look down at Lupe's full nakedness. Lupe's nipples are perked up, calling to them. Further below, the bush of hair sticking through between strong legs even more.

Jess licks their lips, and glimpses at Lupe. With a question. She nods. Her pupils are so blown that no brown can be seen in her eyes. God, Jess doesn't know where to start with her.

Jess bends down to take Lupe's left nipple in her mouth, while the right one between her fingers. Lupe moans at the dual sensation, then louder at the first touch of Jess's tongue. Her head falls backwards, and her chest pushes forward to give Jess even more access, which Jess takes full advantage of. They twist one of Lupe’s nipples, and suck on the other, intoxicating themself with it, with the small needy sounds it yanks out of Lupe, “Yeah, yeah, Jess.”

Lupe juts her hips forward too, catching Jess's thigh with her own to start a new, wetter grind, and Jess's own groan around Lupe’s nipple is helpless as they fulfill Lupe's wish and press her leg against her cunt harder. Jess's other hand moves back down, and grabs the meatier part of Lupe’s ass, palming it whole, squeezing it hard.

Lupe gasps, lets out a more desperate moan, and is just as desperate in pressing every part of herself against Jess, at the sweet mercy of their touch.

Jess needs to feel more of her too. They straighten back up, pulling away under the sounds of Lupe’s protest, and her adorable glare, just to unfasten their own belt. Lupe, after a beat, smirks at that. Such a familiar, cocky expression that makes this feel like it's any other time they're doing something fun together.

Except that it’s not, and as Jess works fast to get rid of their shoes, undo their own pants, and pull them down, their eyes are feasting on the full view they’ve got of Lupe. Of course, it’s not the first time they’ve seen Lupe naked, but it is the first time they are allowed to openly linger, and to fully enjoy it.

Lupe is also moving her feet to get rid of her shoes and kick her pants fully away her, then she’s back leaning against the sink, looking at them with a quirked eyebrow, like telling them—they can hear it—Hurry up, McCready.

God. The contrast of their usual ribbing of each other with this context, this state of undress, the hotness of Lupe being both so casual with her nakedness and nervous and full of a tension that's of a whole other nature, one that Jess has the exact idea how they can help her release.

When Jess is finally naked too, they’re back on Lupe in an instant. They’ve got a better direction now. As they kiss her, they bring their hands under their ass, and look at her with another question on their face.

Lupe huffs out a laugh, and says, “Fuck, McCready." And she circles her arms around Jess's neck to help them pull her up on the counter, “Shit, it’s cold.”

Lupe and her cold. “Don’t worry, I’ll warm you up, baby,” Jess can't help but murmur in her ear, grinning, warmed up by the tease themself, by being able to joke with her even right now.

Even as they nuzzle their nose into Lupe’s neck, as she mutters, "Jerk." And as she lets out a shakier breath, as they step into her arms. Between her legs.

They both audibly hold their breath at that. The tension is iron-hot, trickling down their skins. Jess looks up tentatively, only to be drawn in by Lupe's hands, guided to kiss her with one hand at their jaw, guided to press against her cunt by the one at their lower back. The animal sound they let out as they finally feel Lupe's wetness against the skin of their lower belly is nothing they’ve ever heard coming from themself. It makes them wild. It makes them turn into a scientist, wanting to know if Lupe could make it too.

Their hands wander too, then. One is back at Lupe's tit, palming it, pinching the nipple, while the other is at Lupe's lower back, pushing her closer, as Jess starts to rub against her.

Lupe does bend her head back with a low groan, and starts chasing it. The rub against her clit, it must be hitting it right. “Fucking hell, Jess.”

Fuck. Jess scrapes her teeth against Lupe's neck, “Why are you so hot, Lu?”

Lupe lets out something closer to a whine, “Your fingers, McCready, where are they?”

And Jess laughs. That's so quintessential Lupe, letting them know exactly when they’re doing a poor job. Of course she would do it in sex too.

“Well, excuse me, I thought you liked this,” this being them still grinding against each other, Lupe's cunt spreading wetness all over Jess's skin, Lupe panting about it and all.

“Yeah, but come on,” Lupe rests the back of her head on the tiles on the wall behind her, and readjusts herself on the counter, spreading her legs wider. Looking at Jess with a challenge and arousal in her eyes.

Jess looks, instead, down. They can’t not do it. They finally get a full view of Lupe’s cunt, wet and swollen and waiting for them. Two of Jess's fingers are in their mouth before they know it, and then they go for it as their eyes meet Lupe's. They want to see her reaction as they touch her for the first time.

It doesn't disappoint. Lupe's eyes veil, then roll back, and her mouth falls open soundlessly as Jess's fingers start rubbing on her clit. God, they look down at it and the sight drives them even wilder, gets them wetter too.

Their fingers keep moving around, exploring. They dip down to circle Lupe's entrance, which earns them a deep groan, then they slide back up, pressing a bit more intently on the clit. Jess's mouth is watering, itching. “Lu, can I—?” The question is obvious by how Jess simply falls to their knees in front of Lupe’s cunt.

“God,” Lupe's eyes widen at them, then her head falls back against the wall again, hitting it a bit harder, “fuck."

That's still not an answer, but the answer comes when Lupe spreads her legs even wider, resting her feet on Jess's shoulders, and she scoots over the edge, basically throwing it at her. Jess grabs the back of Lupe’s thighs, squeezing them tight, and inhales her, moaning right before their tongue touches Lupe's clit.

Is this really happening? Jesus Christ, they’re really fucking Lu, eating her out, and Jess is gone with it. They lick her with the flat of her tongue, feeling her twitch and moan with it, then they use their lips to suck her clit, while their tongue circles it. More and more wetness keeps gushing out, and Jess's hand has to get involved. Her fingers circle Lupe's entrance again.

“Yeah, fuck, yeah,” is Lupe's more than enthusiastic agreement with that.

Jess looks up at her, spread out on the bathroom counter, in the throes of her pleasure. They’ve never seen her like this. Not that they haven't imagined it, many times. Both in their own dreams, or when Lupe would recount her sexscapades in far too many details. That's how they know she likes getting head. And that she wishes her partners would fuck her more too.

But none of it could've ever prepared them for the real thing, the real sight of Lupe's flushed skin, of her hardened nipples, her teeth burying in her lips to bite back her moans, her cunt being even more perfect and wild and wanting than Jess could have imagined.

Not to mention the sensations, because they're not quite ready to describe those. Lupe tastes strong, yet somehow sweet too, in a way that Jess will likely always recognize. The duality of her. Like the muscles in her thighs shaped by years of baseball, but also incredibly soft, especially open like they are right now for Jess. Lupe stays herself through everything, and Jess can tell they can dare with her, push her over the edge, but also be incredibly gentle with her.

Jess stands up, no matter that they'll miss their face being in there, and apparently Lupe too, as she comes out of the zone to look at them like they've gone mad, but Jess—needs to look at her. At her face. Her eyes. And kiss her other lips, the ones they’ve looked at for many years.

Lupe's protest dies in their throat when she sees Jess's intent. She welcomes them in her arms then, kissing them with an abandon that surprises Jess, makes their heart squeeze with fondness.

And following their insight on what Lupe needs, what they themself need, Jess brings their fingers to Lupe's cunt without breaking the kiss, as like this they can experience all of Lupe's sensations and reactions first hand. Like when their fingers slide inside her, and Lupe's breath stops for a second, and Jess's does too. They're really inside Lupe.

Like when they go from fucking slow, Jess's fingers reaching deep, pressing long, and Lupe's moans vibrate lower in her throat, her hips meeting Jess’s movement with a snap each time—to speeding up, as Jess fucks in and out of her to meet Lupe's need, their thumb rubbing on her clit, and Lupe clings to them, seems to be suspended by a string because all her limbs get taut, the sounds coming from her higher pitched and jerky.

Yeah, Jess has often dreamed of fucking Lupe, yet it's an even more uninhibited experience than they could have conceived. It may be because they’re so themselves with each other, and can let go, truly and completely. Or who knows, Jess may be so turned on and going hard at it because they’re barely getting some lately. Ever since the rejected proposal, Emma has barely let them touch her, and even before that their sex had never been so… primal, aiming more towards sweet and reassuring than world-rocking.

Either way, Jess has crossed the line. They know they’ll never forget the sensation of Lupe’s cunt contracting, fluttering, then finally releasing it all around her fingers, while Lupe's warm and sweaty body is wrapped around theirs and their lips meet in a seething kiss. In a moment suspended by a string.

Then, it’s incredibly quick how Lupe recovers, drops down from the sink, and guides them down on a small rug on the bathroom floor. Jess falls on their back helplessly, panting, painfully aroused, and looks up at Lupe on top of them, who’s devouring them with her eyes, remiscent of their wrestling match of this morning. Was that really this morning?

Time doesn't matter. Jess grabs Lupe's chin to pull her in for another kiss, and spreads their legs for her.

Lupe still feels her orgasm ricochet through her, but that only makes her want to act more, to feel more. This fact surprises her, as it’s not that common for her to come first, to already be satisfied as she lays down on her current sex partner. She always thought it'd be counterproductive, that it would leave her too spent to do her job properly.

Instead, she’s everything but spent—she feels alive, wired with an energy that curses through her in waves. She’s kissing Jess, and tasting herself on their lips, their tongue, which makes her remember the feeling of having them on her own cunt. And feel it too, as if it's still happening.

She always knew Jess would be a good fuck, yet the intensity of it keeps catching her off guard. Jess’s hands are kneading into her hips, drawing her closer with a franticness that reveals their own need, and Lupe pulls away to catch her breath.

She wants it to be good for Jess too. Make what they’re doing memorable, something worth the ire of their girlfriends, because fucking like they're doing can’t just be for nothing. Lupe doesn't want to think about it, quantify it like this, but she's never come quite this hard, never ached so painfully for so much more.

It can't be true, though, can it? She and Veronica fuck all the time. She’s never felt lacking in her sex life for the past three years.

But you hadn’t tried Jess.

True that. She had kept herself from it, scared of this very fact—that being with Jess would ruin her for anybody else.

Fuck. 

“Lu,” Jess breathes out, their eyes closed, a neediness in their voice that they may not be able to spell out.

Lupe wants them to spell it out. “I'm here, baby. Tell me what you need.”

Yeah, if this is going to cause Jess trouble, Lupe wants to have been a good lover for them at least. Somebody they think of with a smile on their face as they marry someone else.

Jess groans, and their eyes flutter open, taking Lupe's breath away for a second. Not just because they’re beautiful, which they are, but because there's Jess in them, looking back at her with the same unexplainable affection they’ve been directing at her for seven years. Lupe has never had a first time so charged with such a history, she always develops actual feelings later.

So these feelings currently present, undeniably, between her and Jess, despite having called them platonic all this time, are strong enough to unsettle her usual composure. Because no matter in what way, she knows there's love here, she has a fuckton of love for Jess, and that makes her want to keep kissing them tenderly, deeply, and make them come long and hard underneath her. Just to see Jess like that, undone, but also safe is Lupe's arms.

Too much for a bathroom hookup that may ruin their lives?

Well. If she had a nickel for every time that happened to her, she’d have two nickels. In a way, she owes Jess for that night that never was, that led her somewhere else, with someone else, and not right here, with them.

Jess lets out a breath, their eyes still searching Lupe's, and they must read Lupe's intent, because they widen slightly right before Lupe leans in to kiss them again. Much harder. She parts Jess's lips with her tongue and soon they're making out, panting in each other’s mouths while Lupe's hand starts to wander. With a purpose.

She avoids the front of Jess's chest again, and caresses the side of her body instead. That gets a small sound, a shakiness in Jess's breath, as Lupe can feel goosebumps ripple on Jess's skin. They’ve always been ticklish on their sides, a knowledge Lupe had taken often advantage of. Now, she’s got new knowledge… Jess is sensitive here, it makes them writhe and whine at her touch. God. Lupe needs to trace her hands and mouth all over them, to map them all out.

She whispers this intention, this request in Jess's ear, and Jess grits out, “Fuck,” from between their teeth. 

Lupe smirks a little at that, pressing her upturned lips into the skin under Jess's ear. That's where her journey of exploration begins. She's like a pilgrim looking for the holy grail, and Lupe's mouth waters at the mere thought of reaching it.

She has to tease Jess a little. Jess shouldn't have told her that they enjoy being edged a bit too much, that it drives them crazy. Another bit of knowledge that only now Lupe can take advantage of.

Her touch, then, is light caresses, sweet kisses, before turning into a tongue licking or teeth scraping Jess's skin, always at random times, and it never fails to make Jess gasp out, press more into a touch that immediately reverts back to light, and grind their hips against nothing but air, as Lupe hasn't gotten to that yet. 

“Lu, please,” Jess breathes out, and that—Jess, begging her to fuck them—plus the thought of Jess's cunt getting wetter, more desperate for her by the second, ricochets all the way down to Lupe's own cunt.

Lupe licks, moaning, into their belly button in appreciation at that. While her hands have reached the back of Jess's thighs, already spread wide, but she spreads them wider, higher, so that she can move to lick the soft skin behind them. She can already smell Jess from here, like a siren call luring her in.

“Fuck, Lu,” Jess whines again, scooting their hips more forward, so as to give her even better access. So damn thoughtful. So damn needy. Where has the cool and confident Jess McCready gone?

Easy. In the gutter.

Lupe pulls back from sucking Jess's thigh, as it’s finally demanding her to take a look at it. Jess's cunt. Right here, open for her. It's so pink and glistening, under a considerate bush of blonde hair. Jess, right now, all over, is so damn pink and glistening, from their face to their neck and chest, all the way to their thighs. And Lupe thinks, vaguely, with a grin, that she’s never had some they/them pussy. What an honor, McCready.

Lupe dives in, tongue first. Another Fuck comes out of Jess as she starts licking their clit, and for how Lupe tries to keep them still, Jess starts rubbing themself against it, to get a deeper pressure. Lupe lets them have it for a while. Jess did fuck her so good, and now they’re a mess of unattended wetness. Lupe laps it all up, dips her tongue into their entrance to gather even more.

“Yeah, Christ, Lu,” Jess moans.

And Lupe can't smirk just because she's busy. She dips in again then, fucking into Jess with her tongue as she uses her thumb to rub their clit.

Jess gets more frantic and vocal then, it must do it for them just right, and sure enough they say, “Fuck, Lu, I’m gonna—”

They shouldn't have said that.

Lupe pulls away, licking her lips with a groan forming in her throat. They do taste so good.

“Lu, what the hell?”

Tall for them to talk, as if they didn’t do the same to her. Lupe raises her eyebrows at them to remind them, and Jess does shut up, pressing their lips together, as Lupe crawls back up to their face.

Before they can reach it though, Jess blurts out, “Suck my tits.”

Lupe stops right above them in surprise, “You sur—”

“Yeah, please,” Jess closes their eyes again, and wraps their fingers into Lupe’s curls, directing her down, “just a moment.”

Lupe can only oblige. It is fucking hot, with Jess's hand in her hair, and Jess's wetness on her lips, to wrap her mouth around Jess's right tit and suck on it, vigorously, Jess's reaction surprises her even more, as they wrap their legs around her hips and pull her in, so that Jess can rub themself against her again. Faster. Harder. 

Fuck. It's like a lid has gone off, and Lupe doesn't even want to stop them. Driven by her own arousal, driven by everything that Jess has ever meant to her, she now wants Jess to come, and to feel them come as they wish. They deserve it. Jess deserves everything good and hot and pleasurable in this rotten world.

As she’s sucking the left tit, though, she feels a shift. The sounds coming from Jess are more strained, the hand Jess has got into her hair is starting to pull too hard, and there's no more precision in Jess's grind, in the way they are trying to get off. Lupe pulls away with a popping sound and looks down at them, only to see Jess's eyes screwed shut, their teeth gritted, their whole face scrunched up as if in pain.

“Hey, easy,” Lupe says, and it takes her a moment to unwrap the tight grip of Jess's legs from her, to take Jess's hand from her hair and press it on the floor next to Jess's head, to hover over them without touching them, “Jess, what's going on?”

Jess, with a whine, opens her eyes, but doesn't say anything, their breathing is too harsh, their chest going up and down.

“Fuck,” Lupe says, “I’m sorry, I shouldn't have—”

“No, no, it's not that, I liked that,” Jess brings their other hand to their face and digs their fingers in their eyes, “but what—what are we doing, Lu?”

Oh. Shit. Jess is regretting it. Lupe bends her head down, closing her eyes for a second, “We're fucking, but we—we can still stop.”

Of course they need to stop. Lupe has gotten too lost in it, she’s forgotten everything, even that she has a whole ass girlfriend. And that Jess does too. Whatever reason they thought legit to get here, to do this, it’s stupid, it’s an illusion—the truth is that they're just cheating.

Except that they're not. They’ve signed up for this show, signed a whole contract. If they are to put their whole into it, then everything that’s happening within it is sacred. It is real.

Lupe looks back down at Jess, “But I don't want to. Right now, you're my spouse. You’re my Jess. And I want you. I want you to feel good. I don’t want us to think about anything else.”

It's stupid, so stupid, so damn stupid and selfish and—

Jess's breathing comes down, and they seem to finally be getting back to themself. And to see her again. They take Lupe's face in their hand, and Lupe leans into it, already loving when they do this too much. Jess's gaze on her is intense too, like they're understanding far more than even Lupe knows how to say. “Yeah?” Jess asks, simply, yet firm.

Lupe, with a breath, leans her forehead against Jess's, and whispers, “Yeah. Stay with me, Jess. Please.” She swallows. “It’s just you and me.”

She repeats the same words Jess said to her earlier, when she was on the verge of freaking out too. That sentence shouldn't work as well as it does, since there's no just she and them, the very fact of the two of them being together is loaded, is a controversy, is trouble itself. But, it’s the core of truth to all of this.

And Jess, with a hint of a smile, pulls her down for a kiss that has a different taste, not only that of cunt, of their two cunts mixing together, but of trust too. Of promise. Nothing else matters but right now, them, doing each other for the first time.

“Please, make me come, Lu,” Jess whispers, so sweetly, yet the ache is clear in their voice, and Lupe wants nothing more that to soothe it, and fullfill their wish. To be the one to do it for them. To make up for all the times she didn't, when she should've. When she'd truly, actually, wanted to.

Their still interlocked hands move together, as their eyes stay locked on each other. Jess keeps their own hand on top of Lupe’s for a while, and Lupe finds that incredibly sweet too, like they're a team in everything, even this. As her fingers find Jess's clit again, her lips stay on Jess's neck, kissing it softly, sucking on it hard, and soon Jess is back on the edge, letting go of every last bit of constraint. Taking what's always been theirs.

And when Jess comes into Lupe’s hand with her name on their lips, Lupe kisses them once more until they're both satisfied.

Chapter Text

Lupe rolls off of Jess and lays down on the cold tiles of the bathroom, as the rug isn’t big enough for two. The cold is a shock to her warm-and-sweaty system, but she welcomes the contrast of it to clear her mind.

Or, try to. Her second orgasm of the night—a result of riding Jess’s thigh frantically, wild with arousal after Jess had come—is still swirling in her veins. She licks her lips, and savors their taste, as she still has Jess’s second orgasm on them from going down on Jess right after coming. And she’s panting from it all, her chest rising and falling like a butterfly’s wings. She can hear Jess’s pants close to her ear too, just as well as she can feel all the contact points between them—their shoulders, arms, hips, legs. Lupe has a leg thrown over Jess’s, while their hands, in the haze, find each other, their fingers linking loosely between their bodies. Sticky with cum.

That’s how they stay for long moments, catching their breaths, side by side, in silence. Taking it all in. Even if there’s no way Lupe, and she gathers Jess too, could fully comprehend all that’s happened in the last few hours. Not now, at least. She’s too… content, with the good feelings cursing through her shedding this very bathroom that will go down in history in the brightest of lights.

Anything else can wait. Lupe turns her head towards Jess, and kisses their damp neck. Jess turns towards her too, and their lips meet again. And again.

“Shower,” Lupe mutters then—with a smile she wouldn’t admit to—because she sorely needs it. She’s starting to stick to this floor. In the end, the bathroom is the best room they could’ve chosen.

Jess chuckles, and hums their assent against her mouth.

They take a shower together for the first time. So many firsts tonight. Not that they haven’t often taken showers in neighboring stalls in locker rooms, joking and laughing through the wall. Now, with only that very thin wall having crumbled, it shouldn’t make for that much of a difference.

Except that it does. It changes everything. First, there’s an awkward moment of just… staring at each other that threatens to pop the bubble they’ve wrapped themselves into. But then, there’s like an inescapable force that pulls them closer again, and they end up throwing their arms around each other, gently, but firmly, as the water washes away all the fluids they’ve caused in each other. Lupe leans her chin on Jess’s shoulders, circling their neck, rubbing their back, and sighs at the sensation, feeling her whole body relax, loosen, melt into Jess. Jess. Her best friend. Whose body feels so right, fits so perfectly against her own, with their heart beating steadily close to hers.

That’s—too big of a thought to linger on quite yet.

Lupe would rather keep focusing on the sensations, as they help clean each other up, slowly, oh so tenderly, even if they’re both clearly tired and could use to hurry up. But Lupe definitely wouldn’t want this to end too soon. Coming out of this bathroom, this sanctuary, will be a brutal step into reality.

So she indulges in rubbing Jess’s body clean, interspersed with feather-light kisses on her lips and face and neck, just as Jess does for her afterwards, leaving goosebumps in the wake of their every touch.

The two of them, being so sweet and tender with each other, who would’ve thought? Who would expect it of them? It goes against their self-proclaimed brotherhood status, made of roughhousing, abusing a substance together, and ribbing each other. It’s how Lupe has separated Jess from her girlfriend(s) all these years in her mind, because if she thinks about it now with a higher degree of truth, all the other ways that they’re there for each other isn’t that far off from… an actual relationship. Which is the very thing both of their girlfriends pointed out in front of the whole cast and crew and, possibly, the whole world to see.

Shut up. Not thinking of them yet. Not here. Not now.

They step out of the shower, and this weird kind of far-too-natural intimacy keeps going, as they can’t even allow each other to dry up and wrap themselves in their towels alone. Really, it would be funny if Lupe weren’t living for it. Jess looks so intent and focused as they fasten Lupe’s towel against her chest, and Lupe, well, has to grab their chin and kiss them for it, earning a surprised gasp against her mouth, as well as a hand grabbing her side and pulling her closer. Why does this night, this moment, have to end?

Yet, as they fall into another hug that’s far less stable, their bodies slumped against one another tiredly, Lupe has to resign herself to their fate. Getting to bed. Falling asleep and waking up to a new day.

“I’ll go grab our pajamas,” Lupe mutters close to Jess’s ear, and presses a kiss to their temple that’s nothing more than an overindulgence before she can think too hard about it. Then she unwraps herself from them and takes a step back, about to turn towards the door and brave the bedroom outside.

“Wait, let me,” Jess says, catching her wrist to stop her.

“No, I’ll do it,” Lupe says, not leaving any room for debate.

“No, I can do it,” Jess debates anyway.

Lupe narrows her eyes at them, and their gazes meet in a silent battle. Jess may be stubborn and know how to insist to have their way, but Lupe won’t let them get away with it this time. Jess’s pained face is still swimming in her mind, their guilt showing in a moment when they only needed to be enjoying their pleasure. Lupe hates that. In all of this, it’s clear to her that she is the one at fault, the one to have caused their—difficult—circumstances, so she can’t let Jess feel bad about anything else. And certainly not do a walk of shame in a skimpy towel in front of the hidden cameras in their bedroom.

So she simply raises their eyebrows at them, and says, “McCready.”

After a beat, Jess’s shoulders slump in defeat, and they avert their eyes to the side as they say, a bit petulantly, “Fine.”

Lupe would—she would really like to—kiss the pout from their face, but it’s happening—reality, normalcy is starting to seep through, and the person in front of her is looking more and more like simply her stubborn best friend and not the hot lover that fucked her on the very sink they’re standing in front of.

Well, not that those two people don’t resemble each other, or that Lupe doesn’t have a new rush of arousal in remembering just how hard Jess had fucked her...

Fuck. Focus. It’s not time for that anymore. So, pushing back both desires—the affection and the arousal—all Lupe can do is turn her hand in Jess’s hold and squeeze Jess’s hand for just a moment, earning a small nod from them, before she finally turns around and opens the door.

The outside world is almost pitch dark, but she rather prefers it this way. It’s more inconspicuous. And she only has to rush directly to the bed as she knows both their pajamas are stored conveniently under their pillows. As she does, she tries not to think of the eyes watching her, that will watch her. What is there to see anyway? They can’t know what unfolded behind the closed door of the bathroom. That is simply, blessedly, between her and Jess alone, and will always stay so.

After grabbing her bounty, she darts back to the bathroom. Getting dressed, then, finally gets that rushed quality more befitting their desire for sleep, and Lupe tries not to dwell on anything, especially not on Jess fully turning back into Jess. Even if Jess not meeting her eyes while they both put on their pajamas sits uncomfortably under her sternum.

To hell with it. Lupe picks up their discarded clothes from the floor and throws them unceremoniously in the wash bin, then it’s truly time for them to… get to bed.

If only this bathroom had a tub, maybe they could have slept in it instead, just for tonight.

But no, that would’ve been a nightmare. Lupe is already dreaming of her pillow. The real problem is that she’s also dreaming of sleeping next to Jess, of—of cuddling them, wrapping herself around them, especially after what they’ve just experienced together. Yet, they shouldn’t do that, should they?

Lupe sighs, and steps out of the bathroom again, followed by a still-silent Jess, who, surprisingly, takes her hand again before she can leave. Lupe turns to them, and her surprise only grows as she reads the intent on Jess’s face. Her stomach flips, because she wants it too, of course she does. So she leans into it, lets Jess kiss her under the frame of the bathroom door—this edge between two worlds—for a long, much-needed moment, and somehow that reassures her. That they're still in it together beyond the threshold.

And so they walk the few steps inside the bedroom hand in hand, more out of mutual reassurance than anything else, and they only let go when Jess has to walk around to their side of the bed. Their fingers stay in contact until the very last second possible, with their arms outstretched towards each other. Unwilling to part.

God, this is so dramatic of them. Yet Lupe is in it. She couldn’t act in any other way, not with how well-fucked and all warm inside she feels.

She slips under the sheets, while Jess does the same on the other side, and Lupe sighs again as her head hits the pillow. They end up in a similar position as on the bathroom floor, laying on their backs, looking up at the ceiling in contemplation, only the faint light coming from the street outside dimming the otherwise complete darkness of the room.

There’s too much space between them, though, in contrast from before, and Lupe hates it. Fucking hates it.

Come on, just close your eyes. Forget about it. This is just how it’s supposed to be.

“Lu,” Jess’s voice comes through like a saving grace, a bit strained, yet their desire is clear in just that one syllable, even before they spell it out, “come here.”

Lupe doesn’t need to be told twice. The relief floods her as they both scoot closer, to the middle of the bed, and Lupe finds Jess’s body in the darkness, turned towards her so that they end up hugging once more. God. She couldn’t have bared to be apart from Jess tonight. Not with how good they smell, they feel, they are. Not with her own desire threatening to carve her insides out if she’s not held together by Jess’s arms.

“I love cuddling you,” Jess confesses into her hair, and Lupe chuckles. All the unspoken being spoken, uh? Well then.

“Fuck, me too,” Lupe breaths out, and Jess laughs.

So why pretend otherwise at this point? Lupe still remembers their first night here, when they had to suppress the urge but ended up cuddling anyway. Better to claim it openly, now, isn’t it?

Jess lays on their back, and Lupe rests her head on their shoulder, with a hand on Jess’s stomach, tracing circles on the sliver of exposed skin, while Jess has their arm around her, and caresses her back. Their legs intertwine under the sheets, and they both let out a sigh once they’ve fully settled. Lupe already feels her eyes droop closed, sleep enveloping her whole.

But then, out of the blue, a laugh bubbles out of her.

“What?” Jess asks, surprised, amused, holding her a bit tighter.

“I can’t believe we fucked,” Lupe says, stupidly, but the feeling of it is overwhelming enough that she can’t quite stop shaking with laughter.

And Jess, after a beat, snorts. Then presses a kiss on the top of her head that’s much more somber in nature, “That we did, hermano,” and, lower, into her ear, “and it was so good.”

Lupe hums, and a smile opens up on her face that she imprints into the juncture between Jess’s neck and shoulder. Feeling them shiver when she does.

And then, tentatively, but inescapably, she raises her face, only to be already met with Jess’s, tilted down, so that their lips can meet in a proper goodnight kiss.

Waking up, Lupe would’ve expected to start panicking immediately. Instead, she wakes up slowly, peacefully, fully aware of being entangled with Jess and the sheets in too complex of a way to unravel easily, yet able to keep enjoying it. A smile, as a matter of fact, unravels on her face despite herself, despite any logic, as she is in so much fucking trouble. But she doesn’t care. She presses it into Jess’s neck again, not even to hide it or anything, but because she wants to feel the taste of their skin first thing in the morning.

Her tongue comes out to do just that, swirling around in a circle.

“‘morning,” Jess mumbles, almost incoherently, with a little groan, and that’s the least awake she’s heard them be after the sun is out.

She’ll take full credit for that.

“Good morning,” Lupe says, a bit gloatingly. She leaves one more kiss on Jess’s cheek, then does her most valiant attempt to disentangle herself from them and rise up from the bed.

“Where the hell ‘r you goin’?” Jess mutters, confused, a bit affronted, if Lupe is hearing right.

Lupe enjoys the sound of that too. Her grin widens. “To make breakfast, dummy.”

“Oh,” Jess uses the back of their hand to rub their face more awake, “thought ‘twas my job.”

“Not today,” Lupe says, easily, already half-way to the door.

“You sure?”

Lupe turns to Jess and notices a slight worry on their face, which has no reason to be there, “Sure. You stay there, sleeping handsome.”

And if Lupe is seeing right, a blush starts spreading on Jess’s cheeks, and their smile is a little shy as they say, “Okay.”

They’re cute. Does Jess know that they’re cute? They must. Either way, she’ll make sure to tell them at some point. Maybe.

For now, she winks at them and leaves the room.

It’s weird walking through the flat after last night. The chair still lodged under the handle of the entrance door makes her shake her head in amusement, while the first look at the kitchen causes a very different physical reaction in her. She may never look at that island in the same way. If only they could fuck right over it, she just knows that it’d make for the perfect surface for Jess to eat her out on. Or for her to eat them. An even better breakfast.

Jesucristo. Here she is, already thinking about fucking Jess again. Like it’s a given, an inevitability.

Lupe glimpses back at the bedroom door, picturing Jess spread out in bed, all flustered and worn-out from last night, and well. Her insides churn in interest. With two more weeks sharing a bed with Jess after this new discovery, how could it not happen? 

And they are, after all, wives. Spouses. Like she told Jess last night, that’s all that matters right now. They’ve never given each other a proper chance—she, she never gave Jess a proper chance—so this is the one and only time they get to do it and figure out what it all means, potentially scot-free. Because, if at the end of this, they would still rather choose their girlfriends, then that’s fair. The two of them will be able to move on platonically as usual, while their girlfriends, being chosen, will have to let this pass, as it is part of the game they signed up to as well. Lupe and Jess are doing nothing more than the agreed trial marriage.

Wow. She’s so full of surprises this morning. So calm. So level-headed. Will it last? Will facing Veronica in two weeks time be as simple as she’s telling herself?

Shut up. It doesn’t fucking matter right now.

Breakfast. That’s what.

And Lupe finds herself humming a tune as she prepares a nice plate for Jess just like they’ve done for her every day this past week. Who says the spoiling has to go one way? Jess said spoiling each other is bare minimum to them in a relationship. Lupe wonders what Emma does to pamper Jess. If only she could ask her—

What the fuck? Emma would spit in her face. Goddamnit. Focus.

Focus on the good feelings carried on from last night.

It’s not hard to do. In the middle of the night she’d woken up at some point, still in Jess’s arm, and Jess had been awake too, and they’d made out some more, with their hands wandering, sleepily, lazily, just for the hell of it. Just remembering it, the smile gets back on Lupe’s face.

But of course, she’s barely half-way to making omelets when the door buzzes. She groans under her breath. But, in the end, this is kind of amusing too, after how they ran away from the crew last night. Like two kids caught stealing candy in a shop.

Some of the crew does look awkward as hell after she puts the chair back into place and lets them in. So they are human, uh? Feeling guilty at having to impose their presence at such an intimate time.

Not Bev, though. She looks Lupe squarely in the eyes, fearlessly, as her smug expression says Told you so, kid.

Lupe, biting back her smile, shaking her head at her, greets the crew because she’s not a monster like Bev, “Good morning, everybody. Hope you enjoyed the show last night.”

A few grimaces, a few attempted smiles or chuckles, but it’s still Bev who says, “Sad I wasn’t there in person to see it. The footage is quite something, though. I can send the raw film to the two of you, if you’ll ever want to keep it as a memento.”

Is she kidding? But no, she sounds genuine. Does she mean that it'll be a… nice memory to have of their first real kiss, if it actually turns out to be the beginning of something—something that lasts beyond this show?

Lupe gulps. She's not able to think that far already. “Uhm, thanks. But I was just making breakfast, so,” she points behind her, “I'll get back to it.”

Bev nods far too knowingly. “Go ahead.”

There's immediately a different energy, a different tension in her own body as they start filming her, but this time she won't burn it all down. She's getting this food to Jess.

Jess, who is not in bed when she carries the tray to their bedroom. A shot of panic hits her in the guts. “McCready, where are you?”

“Here,” Jess’s voice comes from the direction of the bathroom.

Right, the bathroom. Lupe hasn't dared go in there yet. Now, she feels how badly she needs to pee. She leaves the tray at the foot of the bed, and walks up to it, passing by Jess who’s getting out.

Their eyes meet, and Lupe gulps. Because yep, the desire to kiss them is still there. If it weren't for the cameras behind her, she would likely do it. She just doesn't want to give them the satisfaction so soon, so easily. 

Instead, she nods towards the bed with a crooked smile, “Get your ass back in bed. Breakfast is ready.”

Jess smiles. Their eyes are still boring into hers, which makes it hard not to just cave, as the desire, the warmth in them is calling her in. But Jess must read her hesitation, because in the end they nod, “Yes, ma'am.”

Damn. Stop being so damn good, Jess.

Lupe pees while looking around at all the spots where they were last night. The sink, where she was so absolutely undone that she can still feel it. The floor, where she returned Jess the favor. The image of them sprawled underneath her, flushed, panting, their blonde hair a halo around their head, may stay forever branded in her mind. 

Then, the warmth and closeness of the shower. She never wants to take a shower alone as long as they're living here. 

It all swirls in her, softening her insides beyond repair, so that when she gets out and finds Jess lounging in bed, not having touched the food, Lupe has to pause a second. She's not just in trouble with her girlfriend, but just—in general. In life. Because she hasn’t felt so at ease, so happy and relaxed in a long time. If ever.

This can’t just be about fucking. About having fucked or wanting to fuck Jess. This is—

“Soooo,” Lupe draws out as she settles carefully in bed, barely able to look at Jess or the crew. She doesn’t even know what she’s about to say, but when she hears herself say it, it sums up exactly her sudden turmoil, “so we’ve got some feelings for each other.”

Jess, surprised, holds their breath. Then huffs a laugh. But when Lupe doesn't join their hilarity, their voice turns more serious, if still soft, “Yeah. It seems so.”

And Lupe, despite herself, lets them in—all the times in the past seven years when she’d felt something too big to name for Jess. If she’s honest with herself for once, there’s too many of them to count.

Like, like during her first Christmas in Moose Jaw, in their second year of knowing each other, when they’d ended up sharing Jess’s childhood bed. Lupe had been placed in a cot next to Jess's bed, but merely a few days into her week-long stay, she'd forfeited it entirely and just cuddled Jess through the night. She had been cold, that’s all, and Jess had offered. And it had felt so warm and good, that it had been so damn hard to not let in how good they made her feel.

“Lu.”

Jess always looks at her as if they are happy to see her. Now, in bed with them, curled under the blankets with a flashlight as Jess tells her stories from their childhood as if they’re both still kids themselves, it’s no exception. 

Lupe's heart is drumming a staccato beat in her chest, but she's trying to ignore it, because she's afraid of what it’s trying to tell her. No, focus, García.

“What's on your mind?” Jess asks her, and she registers then that they were calling her name. “Getting bored?”

“What? No,” Lupe rushes to say, “I was listening. Go on.”

“Hm,” Jess narrows their eyes at her, “what's the last thing I said?”

Caught, her heartbeat picks up even more pace, “Easy, you said Lu.”

Jess rolls their eyes, “Before that.”

Lupe bites her lips, “Uhm. Something about gophers and—” Jess, treacherously, pinches her arm. “Ow, why did you—”

“That was two stories ago, García.” Jess scoffs, and digs a finger in her side too that makes her gasp in pain.

“Well, I’m sorry for getting distracted, but there’s no need for violence, you fucking jerk,” Lupe says, slipping a hand down so that her finger can jab Jess’s belly button. Because she knows it makes them squeal.

Jess does squeal and grab her wrist to pull her hand away, “You’re a fucking jerk.”

Lupe grins triumphantly at them, and Jess sticks their tongue out at her for good measure.

It is as if they revert back to children with each other, more than with anybody else. Which is ridiculous, because they’re approaching mid-twenties and just this year Jess has accompanied Lupe to an abortion clinic. Something she’s still wrapping her head around, because how could she be so fucking stupid?

Sure, she knows too well the string of events that lead to it—a call with her mother that ended up in a screaming match about Lupe’s new unacceptable undercut, a random guy on the street spitting at her shoe and calling her a fucking dyke, and countless other little things that ended up just being a tad too much and her thinking that maybe, maybe, if she just tried one more time it would feel what it’s supposed to feel like… and then, finally, her getting drunk one night at a college party and picking the first guy who looked at her legs and smiled nice enough. The rest is infamous history. It did not, in fact, feel how it’s supposed to feel like, and she fucked a girl the very next day to wash herself clean from it.

It dawned on her that she was pregnant as she vomited in the locker room bathroom mid-way through baseball practice a few months later, after which she let herself slide down on the bathroom floor in horror.

She didn’t think she would tell a soul as plans to fix the situation were already forming in her mind. Yet that’s how Jess found her, with her head in her hands and bitter tears spilling down her cheeks. Jess has been a good friend to her, for the most part, since they got on the same team, but this was too much. Definitely too much. She was sure Jess would look at her with disappointment and disgust for having slipped and slept with a guy and gotten knocked up from it to boot. Like a fucking idiot.

Yet, out of some kind of defiance, without Jess even asking her what was wrong, after they simply sat down next to her, it slipped out of her, “I think I’m pregnant. I need to get rid of it.”

And all that Jess said, after a beat, was, “Cool. What day and time?”

Since then, it’s been… different. Not in a bad way. Lupe, from time to time, simply finds herself looking at Jess. Just looking. And marveling at why Jess is still hanging around. Inviting her for Christmas at their parents’ to boot, to save her from going to her own.

“Hey. Lu?”

This time, she hears it as soon as Jess calls her name. Lupe blinks, and focuses back on Jess’s worried yet still warm eyes, realizing that she’d gotten lost into her own head. Shit, she must be more tired than she thought.

She rubs her eyes, “Sorry. Guess I’d rather sleep now.”

Jess nods, with a hint of smile, “Good idea. Big day tomorrow.”

Christmas. Lupe grins.

They emerge from under the blankets, and Lupe gets up, places the torch on the bedside table, and slips under the blankets of her own makeshift bed. She's got three, but the chill still runs down Lupe’s body. Fucking Canadian air.

They stay silent for a while, but then Jess notices her shivering, and they scratch the back of their head with a weird expression on their face, “Uhm, you know, if you’re still this cold, body heat is the best medicine.”

Lupe blinks. A few times. So knocked off guard that all that comes out of her mouth is, “Uh?”

And sure enough, a blush starts spreading from the tip of Jess’s ears, “I just—it’s just practical. When we were little my youngest brother and I used to sleep in the same bed for warmth.”

Lupe's mouth slacks open as they simply stare at them, feeling even more dim.

Jess averts their eyes, “Nevermind. It was just a thought.”

And that’s when Lupe’s brain kicks back in. She will not, for the life of her, turn down such a convenient offer, she’s already getting back up from her own bed, but it doesn’t mean she won't tease Jess for it. Her lips curl up in a smirk, “Jeez, McCready. At least buy me a drink first.”

Jess makes a face, and the blush spreads to her cheeks as they watch her slip in next to them, “Get off my back. I just feel responsible, since I brought you here and all.”

“Aw, how considerate of you.” 

Jess flips her the bird.

It’s fun. To get the upper hand like this. Jess is not someone easily embarrassed. With a chuckle, Lupe scoots closer, “Well, then put your money where your mouth is.”

Jess visibly gulps as they look back at her, and Lupe forces herself not to think too hard about it as she wraps an arm around Jess’s stomach, a leg around Jess’s leg, and lays her head on Jess’s shoulder. Immediately, she does feel incredibly warmer, even if her heart is back to drumming in her throat.

Jess, after a moment of being a little frozen and stiff, relaxes as they hear Lupe’s sigh of relief, and chuckles, “Told you so.”

“Shut up.”

Jess chuckles some more, but they do wrap an arm, tentatively, around her too. It’s still awkward as hell. Lupe is the one to stiffen as she starts to realize just how nice it feels, Jess feels. For some reason, she raises her head a little, just out of curiosity, and finds Jess already looking back at her.

Their eyes meet for a long, tense moment. If Lupe admits it to herself, she notices it, when Jess’s eyes flicker down. To her lips. And when her own do too. To Jess’s lips. A sensation she’s felt before—one that in those times to times has gotten a hold of her—floods her then. It’d be so easy to close the gap. Jess’s lips look so very kissable. She’s sure that they’re a good kisser. And that if anything were to happen in this bed, Jess’s childhood bed, it would probably feel very, very nice.

But what the hell is she thinking? Lupe swiftly shuts her eyes and lays her head back on Jess’s shoulder. The following moment is hard to live, as she can tell that Jess was doing the motion of leaning in. Jess’s lips unmistakably bump against the top of her head, and Lupe keeps perfectly still as Jess recovers, clears their throat, lays back down to save their own face and pretend as if they didn’t.

Yeah, Lupe thought so. It’s not as if Jess likes likes her. It’s not as if Lupe does. She's not even single now. It was all just a… heat… of the moment thing. Body heat and all.

“Goodnight, Jess,” she says then, final.

“Night, Lu.” And that’s the end of it.

And it turns out that Lupe is quite good at buying her own bullshit. She manages to for years to come. The only slip-through-the-crack she allows? She never stops cuddling Jess, even when she or both of them are in relationships. It’s a brothers’ thing after all.

And brothers don’t kiss.

“Then what are we gonna do?” Lupe asks, all her confidence from before evaporated like water.

Jess, with a quick exhale, slides their hand across the bed, until it finds, tentatively, Lupe’s, “I thought breakfast?”

Lupe huffs a small laugh. This breakfast seems to never end. “Yeah. You may be right, McCready.”

She picks up the tray to place it closer to them both, so they can finally dig in. 

“I could’ve made it, you know,” Jess mumbles after their first bite, their eyes fixed to their plate.

Lupe eyes them curiously. Why are they so hung up about it? “I know. I just wanted to do something nice for you too.”

“Well, it’s on me to—” Jess worries at their lips with a troubled expression on their face, “I got us into this. I challenged you to do the trial with me. But I swear this isn’t what I—had in mind.” Jess blinks hard, then Lupe gulps as Jess’s eyes finally meet hers. She thinks of trying for levity, Ah, so your plan wasn’t to get into my pants,? but that's not what Jess needs right now. She bites her tongue to let Jess continue, “I was only thinking of your happiness, Lu. I swear.”

Lupe averts her eyes. This is too much for the morning. She thought heavy conversations could wait, yet here they are already. She shrugs. “I know you didn't. But, well, consider your challenge won. Maybe I am not as happy with Veronica,” she draws out a long sigh, “as I thought I was. Here we are, both fucking somebody else after two weeks apart, and maybe that tells a lot about us.”

Lupe huffs a bitter laugh, shaking her head at the sheer truth of it, and feels flabbergasted. That’s the word. How else could she feel about her whole world—or maybe just the play of lights of it—crumbling before her very eyes? And the irony of it is that all she can think of right now is still just to close the gap between her and Jess, and lay her head on their shoulder.

Speaking of Jess. They’re strangely quiet. Lupe looks at them, only to see them bite back a smile, the last thing she would've expected from them. Lupe scoffs, “What, McCready?”

“Sorry,” Jess says, “I just—that’s the first time you’ve ever admitted that.”

Typical. “Well,” Lupe, pointedly, shoves Jess’s shoulder, making them gasp out a laugh as they have to brace themself not to fall, “why are you so surprised? I seem to be admitting a lot of shit lately.”

The way their eyes meet, then, has a whole different vibe to it. The heat flares up, passes between them like a spark, and lights up the air around them. Lupe sees it, as Jess bites their lips again, how that has a whole different meaning too. It’s like memories from last night flash in front of their eyes, from Lupe’s confession—I did want to go on that date with you—to Jess’s—I’ve wanted you for too long—to all the ways they took each other apart so skillfully, so thoroughly, as if they’d done it many times before. 

Once again, if it weren’t for the cameras, Lupe would already be straddling Jess’s lap and not thinking twice about it.

They both avert their eyes. This is a lot. Definitely a whole lot.

“Yeah, me too,” Jess admits as well.

Lupe hums pensively. “So help me understand, how do you really feel about—about Emma?” she asks, finally, a question she hasn’t dared ask for, admittedly, quite a while. Contrary to Jess, Lupe has never really felt she had the right to poke her head into Jess’s relationship, even if she’s had her own qualms about it. “Forgive me, brother, but I don’t feel like you’re as happy with her as you say you are either.”

And Jess, after shoving a whole mouthful of omelet in their mouth and taking their time to chew it and swallow it, slumps in on themself, “Fuck.” A grimace. “Yeah, you’re right.”

No shit, Lupe would like to say, but she bites it back. She can’t bring herself to ask, Is it because of me?, either, so she just stays silent, and waits.

For them both to finish their fucking breakfast in awkward silence, and then for Jess to scoot back and lean against the head of the bed with a sigh, “Since the whole proposal thing, but I think even before that, things have been… weird.”

Jess bites at their nail’s cuticles like they often do when they’re particularly nervous, as they ponder their next words. But then it all seems to tumble out of them, “So maybe she thought I had… other feelings, but of course she didn’t tell me. She just started pulling away from me, slowly at first that I didn’t even notice, but then I did notice, I’m not that stupid. Little things, less affection, less time for me, so I thought that what we needed was an upgrade, a new beginning, and that asking her to marry me would make things better. So I did.” They smile bitterly. “But that only made things worse, so that now it’s just… we barely even do it anymore. Barely even kiss.” They sigh, pass a hand on their face. “Yet, neither of us has said a word about breaking up so far.”

Many things cross Lupe’s mind, not all of them kind, towards Emma and her hypocrisy, but also towards Jess, like You preach about my relationship when yours sounds so much worse than mine? Yet, she swats them all away like pesky flies. 

“Why?” Lupe asks instead, her voice as low and reassuring as she can muster. “Why are you still with her then? You deserve better than this, Jess.”

Jess curls even further into themself and shrugs again. They are a hypocrite too. Albeit one Lupe loves anyway.

“You do, dummy,” Lupe shoves Jess’s playfully again, if more lightly, just to get a reaction out of them, but she barely gets a twist of their mouth. In it, she recognizes what Jess is truly harboring, of course—guilt. “Okay that you may not have been exactly honest with her about your… feelings,” for me, “but she wasn’t either about her own, was she? No matter how you spin it, she should've brought up to you what was bothering her and not just led you to twisting yourself into pretzels to fucking please her.”

That sentence, for some reason, leaves her winded, and, for some other or maybe the same reason, earns her a look from Jess, “Hello, pot.”

Well. Alright, then. Lupe rolls her eyes. And shoves Jess again for good measure. “We're talking about you now, jerk. Focus.”

Jess chuckles, but they do cross their arms and let out a longer sigh, “Listen, I get what you're saying. But I just… any leverage I had before doesn't mean much now, does it? I came here so sure that I wanted to marry Emma, that I love her more than anybody else,” and that's when Jess raises their eyes to her again, in a way that has her breath stop altogether in her throat, “but now…”

Lupe presses her lips together, hard. In Jess's eyes she sees everything again, not just last night, but all these years, all swirling into the deep waters of them. And on top of it, more of that same guilt that had taken a hold of Jess on the bathroom floor.

For simplicity, Lupe would rather address that first. The water is too deep, she knows she’s only seeing the very tip of the iceberg of Jess's feelings for her, and she doesn't know how to cope with that, let alone the rest of it. She still has to dive into her own depths to make any sense of what is happening, what she’s doing, how she feels.

She only knows one thing for sure, and she says it firmly, “It’s not your fault. You—you deserve to be loved just as fiercely as you know how to love. I understand that it’s been hard for Emma too, but from how I see it you've been putting in more effort than she has. So why should you be blamed for finding what you need elsewhere?”

Jess doesn't answer that. Closes their eyes instead, looks even more dejected.

So Lupe scoots closer, and, tentatively, guided by the sheer will to shield Jess from their own turmoil, she cups their saddened face to turn it towards herself, “If anything, this is on me.” Jess’s mouth twists in protest, but she doesn’t let them interrupt her, “I haven't done right by you, but I raise you a challenge now. Let me show you what you deserve in a relationship.”

She can tell Jess is caught off guard, and is affected by the intensity Lupe is suddenly directing at them. And she gets them, really. She rarely allows herself to be as intense as she would like to be, as it was beaten and yelled out of her growing up, hell, in her adult life too. With Jess she’s gotten the closest to allowing herself to be. With Veronica too, as their fights don't only derive from her.

But this? This kind of intensity is different from all of that. It comes from a different kind of fire in her belly. That burns brighter. Warmer. 

Jess’s throat works up and down. They're studying Lupe's face, and Lupe hopes they see a fraction of what she’s trying to convey. Even if she barely knows it herself.

“Like,” Jess finally says, glancing at the now-empty tray at the foot of the bed, “breakfast, uh?”

Idiot. Lupe huffs a laugh, but doesn't let herself get too off track, even if she appreciates the attempt at levity. She rubs her thumb on Jess’s cheek, which earns a hitch in Jess's breath. “Yeah,” she says, her voice softer, “it's always nice, isn’t it?”

Jess gulps again. And, after a beat, glances openly at her lips, as they nod, “Yeah.”

Lupe grins. Jess, after all, doesn't have complicated needs. They seem rather simple. Nothing Lupe doesn't know how to provide. And they may still be limited in their freedom of movement, but they've gotten to that part of the morning where Lupe has mostly forgotten about their audience, filming as inconspicuously as possible from the corners of the room. Or, not forgotten, but she definitely cares far less. She's gone so far with not doing what she’s really wanted to be doing all along, but she's not allowing it a second longer.

She kisses Jess, just a peck that has Jess chasing her lips, at which point she presses a bit harder, a bit longer, making them both groan a little. She stops herself from straddling Jess, but they do lay down, side by side, legs tangling together, as they simply, finally, just enjoy their morning-after.

“Why didn't you tell me about your problems before?” Lupe can't resist but ask, then, as she holds Jess close. It's just a private whisper between their lips, so hopefully it won't be picked up as clearly. She needs to know, though. Why Jess didn’t feel like coming to her.

“I'm sorry,” Jess answers, cupping Lupe's face back, “It just felt—so stupid. I didn’t want you to worry about me.”

“It’s not stupid,” Lupe says, a bit louder, “nothing about you could be stupid. Especially not to me. After all the times you've helped me for the most inane shit—” she’s not going to mention it on camera, but she knows Jess will get what she’s talking about, “you should know you can always, always come to me.”

Jess looks her in the eye, and some regret does appear in theirs. Before saying anything, though, they kiss her, a deeper kiss that has Lupe get lost in it for a second, “I know. You’re right.”

And Lupe grins, drawing Jess even closer with both her arms and legs, “I always am.”

Jess’s eyes get a glint in them again, a familiar one Lupe always rejoices at, “Debatable.”

Lupe shakes her head, “Not debating you right now.”

“No?” Jess says, the cheeky bastard.

Lupe, in lieu of an answer, draws them in for another kiss. And another.

It's hard not to fuck on this bed. If only they were alone. Ugh. All they get away with is dry hamping slowly, surreptitiously against each other as they make out for quite a while.

Not that the all point is, again, fucking. But after they get on with the rest of their day, ready to fulfill both of their promises to be the best spouse to each other, it soon becomes clear that everything always leads there. Everything is… so fucking charged.

Of course, they’ve tasted the forbidden fruit now, so its temptation has only heightened. Lupe tries to pretend for half of the day—as she has to start doing some remote working for her company, and Jess is a distracting presence around her—that her thoughts aren’t constantly wandering there, but she fully gives up at dinner. Jess too. They play footsie under the table at the restaurant.

Not that they aren’t able to keep the conversation going normally. Jess is one of the only people Lupe never tires to speak to, or hear talk, as Jess has also an infinite well of anecdotes or wild ideas they come up with on the spot about every topic under the sun. The teasing is also a staple in their friendship.

The only difference, really, is the blatant flirting, and the undercurrent seduction going parallel with it. So who can blame them for being fully distracted and entranced by it? For acting more like horny teenagers than adults trying to decide who their life partner is going to be? 

The evening can’t end soon enough, fucking hell. Tomorrow, tomorrow they'll be wiser about it. Lupe will come up with other things that Jess needs from a loving wife.

Tonight, she guides Jess back to their trusty bathroom, and lets them kiss her fucking dirtily against the sink again. Thank you, God.

Jess surprises her, though. Jess has not given up in showing her the world, apparently. They turn her around, and latch their mouth to her neck as Lupe looks blarily at their reflection in the mirror. She can’t already look so undone, and yet. She watches, transfixed, as Jess expertly opens the buttons of her shirt, and starts fondling her tits. She can bear to look only for a moment, though. Then she leans back on Jess, closes her eyes, and moans.

Her pants soon follow, and Lupe wouldn't admit to her legs trembling a little as Jess guides her hands to support her on the counter, bending her over. And then slide down to their knees behind her. Fuck. Jess's mouth on her cunt as she watches her own face get contorted in pleasure because of it is next level horniness. She needs more.

She gets more, until her face is squashed almost painfully—but she couldn’t move for the life of her—against the counter, while three of Jess's fingers fuck into her with the same drive of yesterday. But it feels even better like this, at this angle, hitting the spot just right every single time.

“Fuck, Lu, you're so fucking hot,” Jess pants above her, her mouth hot against her spine. She's never heard them sound so fucking aroused.

Lupe can't speak. She's been reduced to guttural sounds, her mouth permanently open as she gets railed from behind.

After she's come, Jess has to physically haul her up and turn her around themself, as gently as only they could after making her see stars, while her cunt still throbbing with afterwaves. Truly, Lupe feels like a cooked noodle in their arms, she hasn’t lifted one finger since they’ve gotten in here, letting Jess manhandle her as they pleased. And, well, she shouldn't enjoy it as much as she does. But, again, like everything else, this is something she will have to unpack later.

She kisses Jess now, as it’s the only thing her body urges her to do. Then, it tells her to pull Jess’s pants down and pull them on her thigh. Jess is absolutely soaked to the bone, and starts letting out breathy gasps as Lupe grabs their hips, their ass, and guides their movements up and down on her leg. Jess holds on both to her and the counter as they start riding her in earnest, and Lupe just has to kiss them more, on the mouth, the neck, the chest, as Jess's head falls back the closer they get.

Lupe wonders, then does it. She brings her fingers to Jess’s clit too, and Jess's reaction is even bigger than she thought. They crash back on her, their arms tight around her neck, and their teeth bury painfully into her shoulder as they come.

The pain is familiar. Lupe hadn’t really been that much into it, but with Veronica she’s had to get used to it. At this point, she’s come to enjoy it quite a bit, associating bites with sex indefinitely, like Pavlov’s, or, well, Veronica’s dog, indeed. So the moan she lets out is like she’s come herself.

Then she grins. She keeps Jess steady against her with an arm, while her other hand keeps exploring, caressing Jess’s inner thigh, then the outer… “Did you really just steal Veronica’s copyright?”

Jess groans into her neck, “Fuck off. Hell no. It was just… an accident.”

“Mhm,” Lupe's grin widens, as her hand circles Jess’s hip. Either option is titillating to her, but— “Come on, you can tell me now, Jess. Are you jealous of her?”

Jess hisses. Then whines. What a cute kitten they are, like this. “Bastard.”

Lupe reaches their ass, and squeezes it hard, “Come on.”

Jess whines again, then spits out through gritted teeth, “Yeah, fuck, of course I'm jealous of that fucking bitch.”

Ah. Finally. It's the first time Jess calls Veronica a bitch in front of her, and the cocktail of emotions it stirs in Lupe is quite complicated. She should defend Veronica’s honor, as she’s still her girlfriend. But, she's also too turned on by it to claim full innocence.

She resolves to slap Jess’s ass as their punishment. “Oh, Jess,” she says, pulling Jess’s head back by the hair, only to see them biting their lower lip in clear pleasure, “what do I do with you?”

A question that is actually quite serious, in the grand scheme of things. What does she do with Jess?

But here, right now, it’s not what she’s talking about. Lupe's fingers have reached the crack of Jess's ass and are skirting it curiously.

“Yes, fuck,” Jess gasps out, rubbing themself against Lupe's thigh again, guiding Lupe's fingers farther in.

“You like this?” Lupe asks, even if it's obvious.

“Yes,” and Jess groans helplessly as Lupe's index finger touches her asshole.

“Yes, and?” Lupe says, pointedly.

“Yes, please,” Jess sighs, and Lupe kisses them as reward, as she teases the hole, then slips her finger in.

It truly does it for Jess. She only needs to fuck into her ass for a while to make Jess go wild, riding her with abandon, and come again with a higher pitched sound. It seems to be more intense too. Good to know. 

She can’t believe, though, that Jess’s own girlfriend isn’t giving Jess what she needs. Leaving Jess’s deep well of sexual desire and prowess out to fucking dry is a true crime against humanity. Lupe is going to show her how it’s done.

She kisses Jess with some kind of fervor, open-mouthed and wet, and when Jess makes an even more needy sound, she chuckles against their mouth. 

Jess pulls away then, narrows their eyes at her, and her cunt churns in interest, “We'll see who has the last laugh.”

Oh, Lupe is so scared. She holds back a roll of her eyes as Jess gets back to their knees. She wasn’t waiting for anything else but Jess’s mouth and tongue back on her, so cut the crap, McCready, and get to work.

She can still feel it when, later, they slip into bed, freshly showered and dressed again. It's so going to become a routine for them, isn't it? But this time, they’ve already cut the unnecessary pretense to stay apart even one bit. No, they end up chuckling and kissing as soon as they settle in. Even after washing up, Jess's mouth still tastes like her.

The second morning that she wakes up in Jess’s arms, willingly, is… different. No matter that she’s told herself not to show too much the intimate details of what is unfolding between them on camera, her morning self is not of the same idea. Or rather, she doesn't give a shit.

Because Lupe wakes up with Jess half on top of her, their soft breath warm on her neck, their hand far too close to the waistband of her pajama pants for comfort, and that same mixture of fondness and arousal grips and squeezes her insides so suddenly and forcefully that, still only half-conscious, she’s powerless against it. She wants them. Oh, she wants them badly. To curl up even further into them, and feel their touch on her.

So when she feels Jess's breath change pattern, indicating her awakeness, Lupe traces her mouth on their head, forehead, down their nose, without being able to stop herself. Jess groans and wraps their arm tighter around her in response. Then, they raise their face towards her, their beautiful eyes blinking open. When they meet hers, Lupe's heart is already in her throat. She has the thought that it wouldn't be so bad to wake up to them every single day for the rest of her—

She takes a deep breath to steady herself, to stay in this moment and not any other. Then she draws Jess in for a kiss, just a small, chaste one. 

At first. But as they both take another breath, the heat turns up with them, and the kiss deepens. Another thought flashes through Lupe's mind—the absurdity of how they've gone from never kissing in seven years, to now being insatiable for it.

Not just kissing. Jess moves from half to fully on top of her, and Lupe welcomes them in between her legs, where the wetness is already quite substantial. She can feel it. Jess can surely feel it too, as their crotch presses against hers. Starting a momentum that, alongside their tongues lapping hungrily at each other, makes Lupe know without a doubt that this is happening, and neither of them is likely strong enough to stop it.

Jess, though—ever so considerate—does raise the sheets over their heads to cover them, before their hand slips back down between their bodies and teases the waistband of Lupe’s pants, “Do you—?”

“Duh,” Lupe says, and Jess huffs out a laugh.

Really, she’s got no fucking chance. She's gone for it well before, and surely after Jess's hand slips under her pants, then into her boxers, and their fingers start sliding on her wet cunt, teasing relentlessly her already swollen clit.

“Hmmn, yes, yes, yes,” Lupe chants into Jess's shoulder, the world under the sheets a furnace so resembling their first ever cuddle all those years ago. 

How things change, though. If she told herself at the time that Jess would be fingering her under them to not be seen by the hidden cameras in the room, because of a reality TV show they willingly signed up for, that girl would throw the torch at her head.

“Shh, baby, I’ve got you,” Jess whispers in her ear, as her fingers speed up even more, if possible, and Lupe's hips rise up from the bed to chase the full sensation.

She tries to be quiet, really, but it's almost impossible. She has no idea what time it is, the crew could be here any minute, so she needs to come, and Jess knows it.

Frantic just as she is, Jess helps her pull her pants down to her calves to have better access, and soon Jess is slipping two fingers in, curling their fingers deep in her in a way that has her gasp out. Jess is mouthing hotly at her neck, whispering sweet encouragements, while Lupe is tasked to keep the sheets above both their heads, so she can’t do much except meet Jess's thrusts helplessly, bending one leg farther up and back, and digging her teeth in her lower lip hard to not yell out.

This is so fucking hot. Truly, the awkward circumstances may actually enhance it all, and Lupe hates herself a little for kind of understanding the thrill of being on a show like this. What a first time doing it in a bed.

“Fuck,” she recognizes when she needs help, and she pulls Jess’s lips on hers to muffle her sounds in their mouth as their thumb start circling her clit.

“Come on. Yes. Like this,” Jess mutters against her lips in time with each push of their fingers inside her.

“God, fuck, I—” Lupe's mouth stays fully open as she feels herself tightening, reaching, pulling… and then Jess quickens the pace suddenly and she gasps, undone by it without being able to contain her reaction. Her hips fly off the bed, and she draws Jess even closer to have something to hold on to, as she chases her orgasms until her cunt stops fluttering with it. Then she flops back down, spent, trembling, panting harshly.

She catches Jess’s grin right before they kiss her. And she chuckles too, a bit incredulous, and so very amazed, her mind a pleasant buzz.

Riding the wave of it, she starts moving again, rubbing herself against Jess's fingers, still in place.

Jess groans when they feel it, “Oh yeah?”

Lupe kisses them instead of answering, then gasps as Jess starts fucking her again, as she’s already far too close to the edge.

She doesn't stay idle, though. Blindly, she reaches for Jess's pants too, and slips a hand inside their boxers as Jess groans, “Oh fuck, yeah.”

It's slower, more languid, as they both fuck each other, locked in a longer kiss. Like they’re savoring it whole, like a full course meal instead of a hasty breakfast. It’s entirely counterproductive, as they don’t have the luxury of overindulgence.

But they do manage to both come. A steal, really. One not even Esti could’ve pulled off in a game. Lupe mutters fuck, and Jess presses their lips together almost painfully as they chase their release against Lupe’s palm. It looks so hot that Lupe comes right then and there, and she's glad for it because she can focus all her attention on Jess. When she twists their right nipple, they gasp and look at her in surprise, and as she grins, they come with a moan, and collapse on top of her.

That’s when the buzzer rings.

They both laugh. What else can they do? In the afterglow haze, their lips find each other. Lupe wishes they had a moment longer. They take a moment longer than they probably should, when Jess pulls her pants back up and kisses their way up her stomach in such a gentle way that makes it flutter, helplessly fond. Lupe closes her eyes for a second, as that single, infinitely sweet thing threatens to undo her in a whole other way if she doesn't get a grip. Jess does not help, as they, in the end, reach her lips and give her one last, lingering kiss. One last moment of being wrapped around each other, enclosed in their hot cocoon.

Then Jess pecks her nose, pulls the sheets off of their heads, and gets up from the bed all too chirpily to go answer the door. 

Lupe watches them leave, kinda stunned, spread out like a starfish in bed. Hating the end of their morning fuck even if it was a sweet ending. She smiles anyway, and stretches herself with a sigh, feeling it all still course through her limbs. Feeling what it feels like to be Jess’s wife, and not hating that. One bit.

God. How is she getting out of this show in one piece?

Thankfully, before her thoughts can spiral down that drain, Jess peaks their head inside the room, “What if we go out for breakfast today?” 

“Hmmm,” she hums in surprise. Clever, though. They won't have to cook, nor eat where they’ve just fucked, “good idea.”

And it's a way to get moving and not linger on Bev’s teasing greeting, “Slept in today, lovebirds?”

Shut the fuck up, Lupe grumbles in her head. They could’ve slept in more if it weren't for her.

They find a nice cafe with a view of the ocean, and stuff their faces with pancakes. Not even their entourage can truly ruin the mood. Their hands keep finding each other under the table, and their lips above it too.

It's like they're on their honeymoon for real. Or at least that’s what they tell—it just slips out—a lady at a market in the middle of the week after she sees them holding hands and says, “Oh, what a cute couple. How long have you been together, loves?”

Lupe looks at Jess, then glimpses at the cameras, and then she blurts out, “Uhm, three years. We’re on our honeymoon, actually.”

“Yeah,” Jess backs her up, squeezing her hand.

It's weird, holding hands with Jess in public purposefully. Or, it’s weird that it’s not really that weird. At any goven point, they can barely start walking that their hands simply... magnetize together.

The first time it happened Lupe didn’t even notice anything out of the ordinary until quite a few blocks later. And even then, she merely squeezed Jess’s hand to attest if it was really there, if she wanted it to be.

She did. As a matter of fact, she stopped Jess in the middle of the sidewalk to kiss them. Their hats bumped together, and they had to readjust the angle a few times to get it right. Their lips were smiling as they met.

It's—it is a whole other world, compared to what she’s used to. Again, she does enjoy her life with Veronica, but—it hasn't felt anything close to this in a long time. 

It must be because they’ve got a honeymoon phase going on. That's why everything is so… heated and rosy. Why they're being so careless and stupid. And Lupe does have moments when she worries about it, that the bulk of it will soon fade, and they’ll be left to deal with nothing more than its consequences.

But then Jess smiles at her, and Lupe forgets to worry. This week, let them have this second week without a care in the world, before they’ve gotta face the big questions. What does this mean? What do we want to do? Who are we choosing? What exactly do we feel for each other?

All that hopefully before shit will eat the fan at the changeover.

For now, Lupe enjoys her peace. Coming home to a bustling, clean, happy house, with her hermano fiddling with their guitar on the couch, which they stop doing to come greet her with a smile and a kiss, and to help her unload the groceries. Then, the task of cooking being shared, divided according to their separate inclinations and skills, up until it’s all Lupe finishing the last preparation, and she instructs Jess to go sit down and play her a song. But Jess, surprising her, stays close, hopping up on the island to keep her company as she finishes cooking, their legs swinging like a kid’s. And well, the kitchen island, plus Jess on it, plus the food being almost cooked… draws her close. She's not burning it this time, she’s sure of it. That’s why she steps into Jess's space, between their legs, and simply smiles up at them. Jess studies her curiously for a moment, and when they seem satisfied by what they see, they smile too and lean in for a deeper kiss. 

It's so simple. Lupe always said she wanted simple things for herself, and in the past years she thought she’d gotten what she wanted, it just came with some unescapable terms and conditions that she had to put up with. But now that she has this, and everything is so damn quiet both outside and inside of her—no yelling, no crying, no bargaining, no fears and worries to come back home to a minefield that she needs to navigate carefully if she doesn't want to trigger the explosion of the above—she can’t unsee the differences. She can’t miss the past. 

No, on the contrary, she doesn’t want this to fucking end.

“I thought it'd be a little bit like cheating,” she tells Jess after they lit up her cigarette for her, after they’ve finished eating their dinner on the balcony. When she sees the expression on Jess's face, she amends, “I mean, whenever I allowed myself to think of being with you. My best friend. I had the idea that relationships should be more… serious, and that being with a best friend was like a cop out. A cheat sheet or something.”

Jess chuckles, but they take their time to reflect on it, chin on their hand, blowing out smoke, “Now your choices make more sense, actually. If you thought it couldn’t be fun, no wonder who you ended up with.”

“Well, thanks,” Lupe grumbles.

Jess touches their foot to hers under the table as an apology. Lupe appreciates it. “But really, I think that's bullshit. We’ve got one life, why should we waste it with someone who doesn't make us feel good?”

Lupe looks pointedly at them. She hopes they hear and take their own advice. Jess does look back at her with a self-deprecating smile, and Lupe nudges her own foot against theirs in acknowledgment, “You’re right, hermano. Yolo.”

And Jess, caught off guard, snorts, and shakes their head at her, fondly, if she’s seeing right, “You’re such an idiot.”

Lupe shrugs, “Hello, pot.”

And as their gazes meet, they burst out laughing. Maybe it can really be, and stay, this fun?

They haven't played their guitar in months, yet they brought it along on the show just to have something to do in case they got bored. Now, they’re anything but bored, yet, beyond their wildest dreams, they feel like playing again.

They have an idea what contributed to it. Or rather, who. She's currently sitting on the other side of the picnic blanket, her feet touching theirs, and Jess can’t even deny to themself that they're playing for her.

Lupe has her eyes closed as she listens to Jess’s new piece that they dug out of their collection of scribbled sheets. When they stop, Lupe doesn't open her eyes immediately, and Jess takes advantage of it to look at her peaceful face without the distraction of her gaze. For just a moment.

Then, surprisingly nervously—it is just a draft—they ask, “What do you think?”

Lupe quirks an eye open, as well as a corner of her mouth, “Muy bonita, cariño.”

Jess’s heart skips a beat. Or two.

Something must be visible of it, because Lupe adds, “What?”

Jess opens and closes their mouth a few times, holding on to their guitar for dear life. They've already exposed themself to Lupe so much lately, they don’t want to do it even more, “Nothing.” But Lupe's gaze stays fixed on them, narrowed and demanding, and well, it’s already on the tip of their tongue, “You—you’ve never called me cariño before.”

Lupe's eyebrows raise in surprise, then furrow in thought, “Hm, I'm sure I have.”

Jess shrugs, “Yeah, but… as a joke.”

Lupe munches on her lips, looks at the ocean for a second. Then her gaze is back on them, and she shrugs too, “Eh. Not really.”

Jess’s heart starts positively galloping in their chest at that, “Y—yeah?”

Lupe studies them a moment more, and Jess sweats. They surely shouldn't have said that one revealing syllable that puts on a platter in front of Lupe just how much—too much—they care about this stupid thing.

And then, God help them, Lupe does something she always does after she's finished braiding their hair and she’s staring at her handiwork—she tucks a strand of Jess's hair behind their ear. She does it even more gently now, almost reverently, in contrast with the simplicity of the gesture, her touch so feather-light that Jess shivers. The look on Lupe's face is different too, not examining her work, just.. soft. “Yeah,” she says.

If this evening Lupe planned to kill them, she should've just said it. Not only does she do a gesture so sweet without apparent reason, but with one syllable, Lupe is telling her that they’ve always been dear to her, even when it had sounded like a joke.

And then she even has the gall to grin.

“What?” Jess says, and they can hear the strain, the barely repressed emotion in their own voice.

Yep, Lupe is out to kill them tonight. “You’re cute,” she says, as if that explains everything.

Jess averts their eyes to save their life, “Stop it.” They know they’ve flushed red, damn ridiculous white skin.

Lupe chuckles, “You are, McCready.”

Jess has two options. Either stand up and run to the other end of the island, or—

They put the guitar down on their other side, then scoot a few inches closer, still not fully meeting Lupe's eyes, “Well, you are too.”

“Nah, I said it first,” she smirks, her hand now fully cupping Jess’s face, which they’re acutely aware of, “It's copyrighted.”

Jess rolls their eyes, and leans closer, “You and your damn copyright.” Her boring business job she always complains about is rubbing off on her in the end.

Their lips meet in a kiss when Jess has barely finished pronouncing the last word. It resettles them a bit. Lupe may have reduced them to a flustered mess, not for the first time in this past week, but they still know how to give as good as they get. And they part Lupe's lips to slip their tongue in her mouth, hearing her throat vibrating in a groan.

Their breaths are already far more labored as Lupe pulls away to whisper in their ear, “If you wanted me to call you cariño so bad, you could’ve just asked.”

She’s being a fucking brat, that’s what. When in their history could they have asked that without Lupe running to the other end of the city, or laughing in their face?

And if she means these past weeks, well, like hell they still would’ve. “Shut up,” is the only clever comeback they’ve got, as they rather prefer putting their mouth to better use again.

“Okay, cariño,” Lupe still manages to mutter against their lips.

This time, Jess has to make her bite her tongue properly. They tackle her to the blanket, maybe a bit too roughly, so that their hand ends up digging into the sand close to Lupe's head to keep themself upright. But Lupe merely laughs, and her eyes, as she looks up at them, have that bright quality to them that Jess will never tire from seeing, especially as it’s not been a common occurrence recently, in their normal life. They can’t help but kiss her again then. Deeper. Longer.

The viewers will have a field day with all of this. Or worse, they might think it’s staged. It's too much, too soon, they might all think they were pretending not to already be lovers.

But, honest to God—and Jess isn’t even religious—this is all real. A proper revolution. If not a goddamn miracle. That they get to do this—kiss Lupe stupid on the beach at sunset, her laughter still echoing. Or in bed. On the couch. Against the kitchen counter, or the bathroom sink. They get to fuck her too, multiple times a day, all stolen moments, in the most random of places, even in the fucking closet.

They can’t think too long about it, because it hurts their brain—the thought that it’s all going to end. That even all this won't mean a thing once they’re back in front of their actual relationships, which they both have been investing in for the past three years.

Because it may still be too late. They can’t erase the past, the fact that their chance came, and they blew it. Jess won't say anymore that it wasn’t their fault too. They could’ve, should've fought for Lupe harder. Now, can they? Are they allowed to? Them, an ultimatum giver to somebody who is not the woman currently in her arms?

Yeah, they'd rather not think too long about it. They've got nicer things to do.

Their kiss breaks off, and Jess lays down next to Lupe, facing her, their foreheads leaning on each other’s, as their breaths slow down to a more peaceful inhale, exhale. Lupe's hand is still on their face, caressing it gently, and Jess closes their eyes, breathing all of her in, basking in her touch, while their arm holds Lupe close. As long as they can.

Lupe kisses their brow, “Thanks for the picnic, cariño.”

This time, it's not a tease, and Jess swallows back the sound that wants to come out of their throat. They place a kiss on Lupe's collarbone in response.

Couldn’t they have told them sooner?

“Shit,” Lupe mutters under her breath, and their eyes meet.

Shit, indeed. They’ve just been told that they're going to dinner tonight. With Jess’s parents. How did they get a hold of them? Why did those two idiots agree to be flown all the way here? Jess had no intention to tell them about this, if not right before the show came out in a couple of years.

And the two of them don't need to spell it out, why they're both panicking about it. It's just—Jess's folks have known them too long, seen the growth of their friendship from almost the beginning, and if there is someone artfully able to pop their love bubble and drag them back down to reality, it is them.

Fuck.

“Fuck, they’re gonna hate me,” Lupe groans, covering her face with a hand.

Hold on. “Hey, they’re not gonna hate you. They could never.”

Lupe glares at them, “Easy for you to say, they’re your parents.”

"Exactly. They'll more easily whoop my ass than yours.”

Lupe bites back a smile for a moment, but then shakes her head, “Come on. Am I not being a homewrecker?”

Jess refrains from rolling their eyes, just because that would only make Lupe feel worse, “No, you aren’t. We’re both equally responsible for this.”

Lupe crosses her arms, looking entirely unconvinced, and slumps against the doorframe to their bedroom.

Their bedroom. How easy it is to think of it so.

Jess shakes themself off, and walks up to Lu, placing a hand on her shoulder, “Hey. We're in this together, aren’t we? Can’t we face anything? They’re not worse than the Blue Soxs.”

Lupe scoffs, but does lean into their touch a little, “Debatable.”

Jess quirks up a corner of their mouth, “Not debating you right now.”

Lupe looks them in the eyes then, with that same fond look that Jess is growing far too used to, far too dependant on, “Okay. But you’ll be doing the talking.”

Jess sighs, but they're grinning, “As you wish.”

They still feel quite tight in the collar of their shirt as they walk into the restaurant that night. They barely know how to explain all this to themself—their ‘interviews’ are also a rambly and vague mess, all exploring new parts of their bond and focusing on the present moment and shit—so what do they tell them? How to explain why they're playing house with Lupe instead of planning their actual wedding?

Sure, at Christmas, less than two months ago, they’d been kind of lackluster when Jess broke to them the news of their proposal. Or, well, their failed one. Their parents did try to reassure them that everything was going to work out in due time, and they were nice to Emma when they met her for the first time, but it sure looked like they had a lot more to say. Jess, in their franticness to keep things running as smoothly as possible with Emma during her first stay at the farm, hadn’t had the chance to ask them about it.

This could be their chance.

“Aw, look at you two!” Agatha, Jess’s mom, greets them as she sees them. She walks up to them, and wraps them both into a hug before Jess can even register it. Still, no matter their nervousness, Jess smiles and hugs her back. They see Lupe do the same. “It’s so good to see you,” Agatha says, cupping both of their faces to marvel at them or some other mom shit.

“It’s good to see you too,” Lupe says, in that softer tone she always reserves for Jess's mom.

“Come on,” Jess quips instead, “it hasn't been that long.”

Agatha rolls her eyes, pulling at Jess's braid a little in retaliation, “Hush, you. You’ll be thankful when I'm dead.”

Jess snorts, “I'll make sure to remember it.”

“Jess,” Lupe says, affronted, amused, digging her elbow into Jess's side.

“Hey, there was no need for that,” Jess protests, rubbing the offended spot.

Lupe shakes her head at them, then speaks to Jess’s mom, “I always enjoy your presence.”

“I know, dear,” Agatha cups Lupe’s face with both hands now, “that's why you're my favorite.”

Lupe’s smile is incredibly pleased. And Jess, well, is pleased too. They could tease her—they could’ve done it many times through the years—about her slight boot-licker ways with Jess’s parents, especially their mom, but that would be stupid to do. They know how much this means to Lupe—that they love her. Consider her part of the family.

“Hey, don't hog them all to yourself,” Jeremiah, Jess’s dad, makes his presence known, walking up to them too. Jess's grin widens. Their dad isn’t a big hugger, so he squeezes both of their shoulders instead, “Good to see you, kids.”

Kids. That’s a bit much, but Jess will give it to him. “Hey, pop.” A beat. “Why the hell are you here, though?”

Jeremiah shrugs, while Agatha crosses her arms, “They called us. Told us you were doing some kind of show, which you didn’t tell us about. So of course we needed to come see it for ourselves.”

“Damn busybodies,” Jess mutters crossly, and Lupe actually nods in agreement.

“Come on,” Jeremiah pats their shoulders a bit more forcefully, “tell us what it’s all about.”

Here we go. They go sit at a table, their parents on one side, them and Lupe on the other, a fuckton of cameras placed around them. Their parents struggle to not look at them at first, which is understandable. It’s still overwhelming for Jess too.

“So?” Agatha, ever the nosiest, says, placing her chin on her propped up hands, “It’s some kind of dating show, I heard? Which can’t be right, since you’re both very taken.” She narrows her eyes at them both, while Jeremiah crosses his arms and raises his eyebrows pointedly.

Christ. With a breath, Jess shares a look with Lupe. And Lupe raises her eyebrows at them too, like Go on, McCready. What is this about?

Jerk. They'll get back at her later.

Which is a very unhelpful train of thought to have right now, leading straight to the gutter.

They clear their throat. “It's, uh, more like a marriage show,” they scratch their head, “it's called the Ultimatum. You know I proposed to Emma, and Lupe's girlfriend proposed to her,” that fucking bitch, “and there are a few other couples too. So all of us who proposed and got rejected gave an ultimatum to our partners. To make them decide if—if they're going to marry us or not.”

There. That's a pretty good summary, and they've managed to skirt the matter of Lupe's presence for now.

Their parents’ eyes widen comically. They share a look with each other similar to the one Jess and Lupe just shared.

“An ultimatum, Jess?” Agatha says.

“Does that sound wise to ya?” Jeremiah concludes the thought.

Jess swallows. That's what they feared. Their parents are like a two-headed beast, pouncing on the prey even worse than Bev. Or Veronica. Already, with less than ten words, Jess feels twenty years younger, being scolded for bad behavior, and they would rather sink deep into their seat.

“Well,” they try, “it's—it's just a game. An experiment.” But that's terrible to say, because they remember Lupe next to them, and they don't want to associate her with the word experiment, “I mean, it's useful to figure out what are the problems in the relationship and fix them. Or, or not. Realize that it's not worth it.” 

“I feel like there are trained professionals more apt to help with stuff like that,” Agatha says, matter of factly, and Lupe snorts at that. The bastard.

“But where's the fun in that?” Jess says, crossing their arms. Petulantly, they know.

Jeremiah shakes his head, “You always find these crazy ass things to get involved in,” he chuckles as he looks at his wife, “why are we even surprised?”

“We really aren't,” Agatha sighs, then looks at Lupe, “why did you agree to this? That mustn't feel nice, to be pressured like this.”

“I—” Lupe starts. She glimpses at Jess. Jess knows what she's going to say—the truth. Jess was the one who convinced her to let their girlfriends drag them both here, and here they are. “Yeah, it's not the best, but,” Lupe shrugs, “it's what Jess said. Better to know than… not.”

Jess blinks, surprised at the fact that Lupe is actually backing her up. Maybe they shouldn't be, but the proof that they are in this together for real fills them with a gratefulness that their parents can only wish for.

“So how's it going?” Agatha asks, with no small amount of sarcasm in her voice. “What exactly are you doing to ‘figure it out’?”

Shit. Here we go. Jess is not any more ready then a few minutes ago. They don't dare look at Lupe this time, they trust that they're a united front. They just hope they're not blushing or anything of the sort, even if they do feel warmer in the face already.

“Well,” Jess needs a sip of their beer for this, “the format has us choose first a—a trial partner. From one of the other couples. To try out marriage for three weeks, before switching and going back to our original partner to see who we… like the most. We need to choose one of them at the end.” They see the even more skeptical and amused expressions on their parents’ faces, “I know that it's a bit out there, but like I said—”

“So are you doing this trial marriage now?” Jeremiah asks, unsuccessful in hiding his grin, even with the whole beard he's got going on. “Who with?”

Well. Jess's opens their mouth, but first she catches the look on their mom's face. She's—her eyes are going back and forth between them and Lupe, and shit, she's putting two and two together, “Don't tell me. You two are doing it together?!”

Very, very unfortunate choice of words. Jess chokes on their own spit, and has to cough. Lupe pats their back a few times. Stalling, that's what they're doing. Among the other, less PG things.

“Y—eah,” Lupe gathers enough bravery to do some talking too, “we're doing this trial marriage thing together.”

Jess's parents fucking chuckle. Rich of them to judge. They got fucking married straight out of high school.

“Did your girls force you into it?” Jeremiah asks, even more unhelpfully, still laughing.

Jess forces themself to square their shoulders. Get a grip. “No, we chose it.”

“Then why did you even come on this show if you were gonna choose each other anyway?” Agatha presses on, “What are you learning about marriage more now than you couldn't have at home?”

“It's—it’s a different situation,” Jess says, “it's a whole thing, with the cameras and interviews and prompts about what to do or what to talk about, all centering this very thing. So, yeah, we are learning something new.”

Their food arrives, and that provides a big enough pause for Jess to catch their breath. They're still circling the main point, but they can feel it getting closer. Under the table, Lupe's foot knocks against theirs, and they send her a small smile in thanks.

That's the first glimpse they've got of Lupe in a while too, and she's definitely looking tighter, a little greener in the face. They knock her foot back, and leave it there. In reassurance.

“So I'm curious, what are these revelations you're having about marriage?” Agatha is still being nosey and taking the piss. She chews on her food looking rather entertained by all this.

Jess is picking at their food instead, fully aware that they're stalling even more, as there's no way they're going to be able to eat it quite yet. Not if they don't get this off their chest first.

“We—the plan was to act out what the other wanted in a marriage, a play of sorts,” Jess starts. They almost laugh when they say it. How naive they both had been, in thinking it would work. That it wouldn't complicate things. “But, uhm,” they can't help it, they need to look at Lupe. Their hermano is looking properly frozen now, like a deer in the headlights, and Jess presses their knee against hers too, before they face their parents again, “this may come as a bit of a shock to you, but, well—” they try to ignore just how high their parents' eyebrows raise on their foreheads, and pushes out the rest of the sentence all at once, “Lupe and I have come to realize that we may have some not entirely platonic feelings for each other.”

There. It's out. In the open, in the world outside of this show. Jess watches as their parents share another look with each other—a longer, much more confusing one—before they turn back to the two of them, who are still quite frozen, like two kids waiting for punishment.

“Uhm, I'm sorry,” Jeremiah says, “what is supposed to be shocking about that?”

Uh?

“Honey, don't say it like that,” Agatha reprimands him under her breath, but it's clearly audible, “look at them, they look so scared.”

“Wha—” Jess shakes themself off of their own shock, “what do you mean... you're not surprised?”

“Oh come on, dear,” Agatha says, looking between them and Lupe again before focusing on Jess, her gaze sweetened to reassure them, “you two of you have always been ambiguous. We all thought you were together the first time you brought her home for Christmas, don't you remember that?”

“Now that was a shock when it turned out you weren’t,” Jeremiah says with a chuckle.

Jess's breath halts in their throat. Christ, yeah, they do remember that awkward moment around the Christmas gifts all too well. But they thought any ambiguity had been put to rest then.

Christmas mornings were often magical occurrences in Jess's childhood. Sure, as they've gotten older the magic has kind of faded, but the family tradition about it is still quite nice. Unlike what they hear from many other people their age, Jess does enjoy going home for Christmas. For the most part.

This year, even more so. They wake up with Lupe in their arms. Which, sure, it’s a bit weird, as they're friends and all. B ut hey, like they don't need to believe in Santa Claus to enjoy Christmas, they can still enjoy cuddling a girl even if it's just Lupe.

However, as they wake up, it becomes inconvenient. It's quite early, the sun is barely shining through the blinds, and it will surely take hours before Lupe wakes up. Lying awake all this time, frozen in place, actively having to watch themself from touching Lupe inappropriately… it’s too much.

So Jess, as carefully as possible, slips out of bed. Hating themself a little for it. But it will save them the awkwardness of waking up together and having to act cool about it, right? Yeah, better spare both themself and Lupe.

They dress up in the semi-darkness of the room, then they go downstairs and out of the still sleeping house to go take a morning run around the farm. Perfect way to cool their system from any residual… warmth of the night. They’re just not used to so many blankets plus body heat, that’s why they're so hot and bothered about it.

When Jess gets back inside, they hear the bustle and ruffle of their mom and their brother Sam making breakfast. Better go help them.

“Ah ah, look who's making an appearance,” Sam greets Jess as soon as they step foot into the kitchen, “our favorite Casanova.”

“Hush,” Agatha mutters to him under her breath, but there’s clear amusement in her voice.

Jess narrows their eyes at them both, “What the hell are you on about?” 

Sam opens his mouth, but catches their mom's glare and shrugs instead, “What do you fucking think?”

Before Jess can respond to that, their mom says, “No profanities on Christmas morning.”

Jess meets Sam’s eyes, then they both look at their mom. All three of them burst out laughing. 

“Come on, get useful then,” Agatha says, throwing a towel Jess’s way, “go check the cookies in the oven.”

And that’s the end of it. Jess shrugs off that initial weird behavior, and gets to work.

But, of course, it comes back to bite them in the ass quite a few hours later, after breakfast, when the entire family—mom, dad, all of Jess’s five brothers, one of their wives, two of their girlfriends, then Jess, and Lupe—reunite in the living room to open presents.

In the arrangement of couches and sofas, Jess and Lupe have ended up squashed together against one end of a couch. Jess is not complaining about it. B ecause they enjoy having her close, but also hope that their closeness brings Lupe at least some comfort.

Lupe is being a bit shy. She's been since she came down for breakfast and marveled at all the goods they’d prepared. Jess can tell she’s overwhelmed by it all, and she's being so extra polite, saying please and thank you for every little thing. It's—it’s weird to see, if they compare it to the cocky hermano they see on the field, or at bars, or with girls. No, this is a whole other… girl. Likely what she’s like within her own family.

It’s endearing, in a way, but Jess is sure that given a few years surrounded by McCreadys, she’ll get comfortable enough to be more herself.

Already thinking this will be a thing every year? 

Well, Jess has no idea. This may spook Lupe enough to never step foot in Moose Jaw again, but Jess doesn't regret inviting her. After the year she’s had, and that Jess has had too, they both deserve it.

So Lupe looks a bit like a fish out of water, especially as she gets two presents. A joined one from the family, and one from Jess. “Uhm, really, you shouldn't have…”

“Don’t even mention it, dear, go ahead,” Agatha says, encouraging. She's truly taken Lupe to heart, and Jess can’t thank her enough. In their head.

Lupe glimpses at Jess, who also nods, smiling, so Lupe takes a breath and finally opens the family gift. It's a jumper, likely made by Jess’s mom. It’s a warm red, going well with her complexion, and it has a big yellow L stitched in the front.

A staple in the family, really. They’ve all got their lettered jumpers, Jess suspects the tradition started to distinguish each of them when they were little. It's—it’s a surprise. Jess has only told their parents that Lupe was coming less than a month ago. Mom must've worked overnight to make this.

“Oh, wow, it’s—it’s incredible,” Lupe says, looking truly amazed by it, “this was really not,” she smiles bashfully, meeting only Agatha's eyes, “necessary.”

Jess tries not to meet anybody's eyes either. They just know some of their brothers are itching to make fun of Lupe’s shyness, the ones who don’t have girls of their own—not that Lupe is Jess’s girl, absolutely not.

“But of course it is,” Agatha says, “we do it for everybody, it’s our way to welcome you to the family. Isn’t this exciting?” Agatha squeezes Jeremiah’s knee in excitement, her smile absolutely radiant, some of Jess’s brothers smiles around them far more amused instead—and that’s the whole warning Jess’s system gets before the bomb is dropped, “This is the first time that our Jess brings a girlfriend home!”

The panicked scream that forms in Jess's throat, unable to come out, is primal and painful. They read it on Lupe’s face too as her first reaction is to look at them with widened eyes like The fuck?

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. They can’t believe their own family would do this to them. Now Lupe will think that they told them they're together!

“Mom, what the fuck, she is not my—”

“I am not their—”

“Girlfriend!” they say in unison.

“Oh, well,” Agatha frowns in confusion, and everybody else makes faces of disbelief, “I thought, since, you know—”

“Well, you thought wrong!” Jess knows they're yelling, but can’t keep it down, “How did you even get this? I never said that,” they turn to Lupe, “I swear, Lu, I didn’t tell them this, nor implied it at all.”

Lupe's doesn't add anything else, their lips are pressed in a thin line, and Jess is full-on panicking. If Lupe believes they did this on purpose, to make a move on her or something, will she break off their friendship?

“What's the big deal?” Jess’s oldest brother Tom says, his arm wrapped loosely around his new wife, “We all know y’all are gay, no need to be so scared to admit it.”

“Wha—yeah, of course we’re gay,” Lupe says, and she's finally showing some anger there, and not just politeness, “it doesn’t automatically mean that we’re together. I've got a girlfriend, and it's not Jess. We are friends.”

Jess nods along to Lupe's spiel, even if that sentence stings for some reason. Whatever. They’re glad to see that Lupe isn’t thinking they did this on purpose.

“Yeah, jeez, guys,” Jess says, smoothing their hair on their head, “that's very ignorant of you.”

“Well, sorry, kid,” Jeremiah raises his arms in surrender, “‘it was an honest mistake.”

Jess is still seething. They see Sam and Henry snicker on the floor in the corner, and they glare at them.

“We really are sorry, we shouldn't have assumed,” Agatha jumps in to smooth things over.

“It’s fine,” Lupe says, but from her tone it’s clear she’s both embarrassed and pissed. She hands Agatha the jumper, “So thanks for this, but it's not meant for me.”

Jess’s stomach drops. See what they’ve done?

“It absolutely is,” Agatha says, refusing to take it, “I made it for you. I may have gotten it wrong, but a friend of Jess's is equally part of the family. Keep it.”

Lupe looks unsure, but when she turns to Jess, and they nod at her, she nods too. “Okay. Thanks, then.”

An awkward silence stretches over the room, and the situation is only saved by Lupe's phone ringing. “Ah,” she attempts a smile as she glances at the name calling, “speaking of the devil,” then she directs the smile at Jess, “it’s Kathy. I—I’ve gotta take it.”

“Yeah sure,” Jess tells her, hinting a smile too, “go.”

Lupe excuses herself, still polite but much more stifled, then leaves—basically flees—the living room to go up to Jess’s room. To talk to her girlfriend. She left the jumper on the couch.

Jess, and their family, wait to hear her steps up the stairs, then the door close upstairs, before they start to make noise. Sam and Henry openly laugh, Jeremiah huffs out the awkwardness loudly, Jess’s other brothers and their girlfriends/wife have the decency to try and stifle their laughter, while Agatha looks at Jess worriedly.

Which Jess blatantly ignores. They pick up a pillow and throw it, hard, at Sam’s head, reveling at hearing him humpf. They would throw them at everybody, but there aren't enough pillows, “I can’t fucking believe you! And on Christmas morning of all days! I would’ve told you that she was my girlfriend, if she were, don't you think?”

“We just thought you were both being a bit shy about it,” their mom says, “and that you just needed an ice breaker to tell us.”

“Come on, Jess,” Sam says, throwing the pillow back at them and hitting their head, still with too much of a shit-eating grin, “she was in your bed this morning.”

“And you tell us she’s not your girlfriend?” Henry echoes, grinning.

Jess splutters, “She—she was just cold, you dimwits. And why were you in my room?!”

“Oh, if she was cold—”

“Enough making fun of your sister,” Jeremiah speaks up then, and Sam and Henry do shut up, albeit with a roll of their eyes.

“Sibling,” Agatha corrects, which Jess isn’t in the right mind to even appreciate. Their mom places a placating hand on Jess’s shoulder, “We just came in your room to wake you up, honey. Didn't think you weren’t there.”

Doesn't make it better. Jess is still sulking, fucking embarassed that they saw Lupe in their bed, and is starting to change their mind. Family gatherings suck.

“We're very sorry,” Agatha goes on, “for putting you in a difficult spot with your crush.”

Seriously? Jess stares at her with their mouth open, “Mom! I don’t have—she’s my friend!”

Their mom looks at them with pity, “Oh honey…”

“Poor little Jessie,” their brother Rob, who’s been playing a surreptitious game of cards with his girlfriend on the sofa this entire time, “you gotta make a move when she’s single again.”

“Yeah,” Tom's wife, Annie, agrees, “relationships come and go.”

Jess stares at the entire room. At every single member of their family. And they finally see it. They're all locked in. They're all a hundred percent sure that Jess has a crush on Lupe, and should make her their girlfriend.

Well, they are wrong.

“Think whatever the fuck you want. But just try and act normal with her, will you?” Some nod, some smile, but Jess doesn't trust them at all, so they sigh, “Can we just get back to the fucking presents?”

“What did you get Lupe, uh?” Henry asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Alright, alright, enough's enough. Let's all behave and love each other,” their mom says, and that’s the end of it.

Mostly. Their brothers still tease them behind their back when they’re with Lupe. Jess hates them all. Even if the rest of the holidays with Lupe does go better. After that whole fiasco, Lupe lets go a little of that crippling shyness, and starts giving back as good as she gets, teasing Jess’s brothers relentlessly. Shows them all how it’s done in a friendly baseball game too, where she looks quite hot as she strikes them one by one.

Alright, Jess maybe has a bit of a crush. How can they not, when Lupe is… Lupe?

Except that it's hopeless. Lupe is never single, nor does she see Jess that way.

So Jess soon gets a girlfriend too. L asts a while. Then they break up. And Lupe breaks it off with her girl too. There’s a whole few weeks in which they are both single when Jess actively thinks they should work up the courage to ask her out…

But Lupe finds a new girlfriend before she can. So Jess finds one not too long after too.

And then, when that is done, there are a whole few months in which they’re both single again. Jess does work up the courage then. Does ask her out. But we all know how that went, and Jess gets a new girlfriend that time too.

And their family, through the years, stops teasing them about Lupe. They treat her like one of their own, so Jess just thinks they forgot about that initial mistake.

But clearly they never did. Christ, and is that really a pattern for them? Did Jess really get in relationship after relationship just to get over Lupe?

No. No, that can’t be. They wanted to be with those girls. And they chose Emma too, not just as a rebound.

Right? Their life does not revolve around Lupe.

“Well, yeah, I remember that,” Jess says, pointedly, “but it's been what, five years? We’ve never gotten together all this time, so how is it not a shock?”

“Yeah,” Lupe says, nodding, a resolute expression on her face. But truly, Jess hates her being so quiet. They have no idea what she’s really thinking, or feeling.

Jess’s parents share another look. Jess hates that too, because they also can’t tell what they’re thinking, even if it's obvious they are thinking quite a lot.

“My dears,” Agatha starts to say, her tone familiarly placating, her arms pressed together in front of her, and Jess braces themself for the bomb she’s about to drop, “the only shock is that you haven't been together all this time. Truly, we thought you would be by now,” she chuckles, digging her elbow playfully into Jeremiah’s arm, “right?”

Jeremiah guffaws a little, “Yeah, you’re throwing off all of our predictions. Usually we're good at that kind of stuff. Didn’t we predict Rob's divorce?”

Jess’s mouth slacks open. It's happening too much lately, “You—you bet on us?”

“Oh please,” Agatha waves them off, “there’s no money involved.”

This is fucking unbelievable. This isn’t at all the conversation Jess was expecting, and their mind is reeling to catch up with it. They need to look at Lupe again. They have to check.

Lupe's sitting so upright into her seat that it looks like she’s got a stick up in there. Her face is complicated too, wannabe stoic, but truly there’s a whirlwind of emotions on it. Surprisingly, she’s the one who asks, “Why did you think we should have been together? We’ve been friends. Just friends.”

Jess swallows. Yeah, that's the million dollar question. Everybody has been saying they should be together lately. Jess, for a long time, had thought so too. That there was something in their bond with Lupe that made it different. That made Jess believe that they were… meant to be or something, for how cheesy that sounds. No matter how unlikely it seemed.

But then, after so many years of things not going in that direction, not working out that way, Jess had let go of such a childish conviction. 

Now… they don't know what to believe. They’ve been proven right, in a way, that it was always there—their chemistry, their compatibility—by how fast and easily and intensely they’ve fallen into being with each other at just the flick of a switch

 But why not before? Why now, in these ridiculous circumstances?

That’s why Jess does want to hear what their parents have to say.

“Listen,” Agatha starts again, in that same truth-bombing way, “I don’t know what idea of friendship you have, but it's hard to call what you've got going on that.” A beat. “You can't deny you’ve been very committed to each other all these years now, can you?” Jess thinks they hear Lupe breath in kind of harshly, but they're too entranced to do anything about it. “So don't take it the wrong way when I say this—you do already act like you’re married. You have for a long time. Even more strongly than some of Jess's brothers' actual marriages.”

“Believe us,” Jeremiah adds, “we’ve been married for a long-ass time. We know what we're talking about.”

Now, Jess knows they breath in harshly. Air seems hard to come by in a satisfactory way. “I—” they open their mouth, just because they need to say something, take back control of this conversation, “what about Emma? I asked her to marry me. You told me it would all work out in the end.”

Their mom looks at them in the same way she did when trying to calm them from a storm as a child, “What else could we tell you? You’ve been so stubborn about it, you wouldn’t hear anything else. We tried to tell you that you had maybe been… a bit hasty in that decision.”

Jess shakes their head. They can barely keep up with all of this, “You—you don’t like her? You don’t think I should marry her?”

“Do you like her?” their dad asks, simply, an even sharper shooter than their mom, “Do you want to marry her? She's a lovely girl, sure, but it sure doesn’t seem like you’re exactly well-matched. She barely enjoyed her stay at Christmas.”

“She—she’s not a very outdoorsy person,” Jess mumbles. Even if they don’t know for who's sake she’s defending her. Defending their bond. It's true that their scope of compatibility is… narrow. Jess has come to realize it more and more lately.

Out of the blue, though, Jess hears Lupe scoff. They'd almost forgotten she was here. “And you think we are… well-matched?”

At that, both of Jess's parents smile at Lupe.

“That seems pretty obvious,” Agatha says.

“We shouldn't need to be telling you this, kid,” Jeremiah says. “Why do you keep coming for Christmas, uh? I heard it caused trouble with your girl this year, didn't it?”

Lupe sputters a little, “Well, I thought I was part of the family. That it didn’t have to do with me being with Jess like that.’

“Of course it doesn’t,” Agatha says, a bit rushed, “you’re always welcome. But think about it… do you care about all of your friends’ families like this? Or if it weren't for Jess, you wouldn’t care about us?”

“I—” Lupe starts to attempt to protest, but nothing comes out of her mouth.

Jess’s heart has started to beat fast. If before they'd been focused on their parents, now Lupe is all they see again. The parts of their body in contact with her—foot, leg, a bit the elbow—are pulsating. However, they don’t know what to say either. If there are any words at all for whatever's happening.

“So you've been together together now, I guess, uh?” Jeremiah asks, not with a small amount of teasing in his voice. “And how has that been?”

“Honey,” Agatha reprimands him, but she's amused too, and she raises her eyebrows at them. Nosey.

For this there sure aren’t words, only a rush of warmth to the face, and ears, for Jess. They can feel it. And they see it on Lupe’s too, in how she crosses her arms close to her body, averting her eyes from them, munching on her lips.

“No need to be embarrassed,” Agatha says, unhelpfully, giggling, “we're all adults here.”

Their parents are true pieces of work. Putting them on the spot like this. Blatantly teasing them, and enjoying it too.

“Still, can you fucking not—” Jess tries.

But Lupe interrupts them, far more sharply, “But you can’t really want Jess to be with me, can you?”

Jess recoils. What kind of question is that? 

“Why not?” Agatha says, frowning. “Like I said, you're already part of the family, so what would change, really?”

“Well, you may already take it for granted, but we—I do not,” Lupe says. Through the years, her personality has shined through with Jess’s parents, but never has she been so harsh with them. Jess's alarm bells have started to go off, but there's nothing they can do to stop whatever is about to come out of Lupe's mouth. “Everything would change. We’ve got other girlfriends, whole separate lives. And who's to say it'd work out anyway? Surely you must know that I’m a fucking mess. Why else would I need you as a family? My own doesn't even want me. So what do I even have to offer Jess, uh?”

Jess closes their eyes for a moment. So that’s the problem, the same old problem. They’d do anything to erase those words Lupe just said from Lupe’s own mind. “Lu, you know that I don’t—”

Lupe is looking anywhere but at them, “Well, you should care about it.”

“But see?” Agatha cuts in, “You listed all these supposed issues, but you didn’t mention that you can’t be with Jess because you don’t love them like that.”

Jess freezes deep to their bones. During this entire dinner, hell, during this past week since they’ve started sleeping together, it hadn’t come up. The crux of the matter. Love. Jess hadn’t dared bring it up. Lupe neither.

And as soon as Jess’s fucking mom does, Lupe stands up. Just like that. “I need a smoke,” she says, and rushes out of the restaurant with the devil at her heels, as well as a few cameras.

Jess stares after her, fucking rooted on the spot. Too dumbfounded to even move. Lupe didn’t... deny that.

Not that it helps this situation at all.

So, the only thing they can think to do, is revert back to a fucking child. They bury their face into their hands, and groan, “Why? Why would you say that, ma?!”

“Well, it’s about time we gave you some tough love,” Agatha says, nothing but serious, “maybe we should've done it a long time ago, but we didn’t want to interfere. Yet now, I think it’s time for you two to work up the courage to admit what you mean for each other, uh? Or, honey, you can’t keep doing this dance for the next decade too.”

The last thing Jess feels right now is brave. On the contrary, they’ve never felt more terrified in their life, and that’s saying something.

“This is no time for sulking,” Jeremiah says, and he has the gall to kick them in the shin under the table, “so get your ass up and go get your girl now, or I swear I’ll disown you.”

Jess unburies their face, and, pushing their hands on the table, they get up. Not without glaring at their parents, “I hate you both.”

Jeremiah rolls his eyes, while Agatha raises a thumbs up at them, “Good luck!”

Fucking hell. Jess walks out of the restaurant, hating even more the cameras that trail them immediately. They want out of this show. They wish they were home, and that they had told Lupe that they love her a long time ago.

They have no idea what they’ll tell her now. They’ve got no plan, just a rocket up their ass as they find her outside, leaning against a wall with a cigarette in her hand. Such a familiar sight that Jess would rather just bawl their eyes out at it.

They, thankfully, don't. With the deepest breath of their life, they slow down their steps and approach her. Lupe doesn't give a sign to have noticed them, as her face is turned the other way, but at the next step Jess takes, she hands them the cigarette. Wordlessly, Jess takes it and inhales a blessed handful of smoke in their lungs. Just what they needed.

They hand it back to Lupe then, and she takes her own drag. Then gives it back to them. Even more relieved, Jess takes it again, and leans against the wall next to her, mirroring her pose.

They smoke in silence for a while, until the butt of the cigarette gets stubbed by Lupe's foot. At that point, there’s only silence left.

Jess takes a few more breaths, then attempts an icebreaker, “Before you were scared that they’d hate you, and now you’re scared that they love you?”

Lupe digs her elbow, painfully, in their side, “Fuck off.”

“Ow, Lu,” Jess rubs their side, a bit winded, “I come in peace.”

Lupe finally eyes them, guiltily, “Sorry.” Then she sighs. “Fucking hell.”

“You can well say that, brother.”

Lupe grumbles under her breath.

It worked well enough. At least now the vibe is closer to something familiar. Something workable.

“But jeez, Lu, what the hell was all that shit you said?” Jess says, maybe stupidly, but their parents are right—it’s time to stop skirting around it, “When in all this time have I cared about you not talking to your family? Or anything else you think makes you problematic? Sure, you are a fucking pain in my ass sometimes, but that has never kept me away from you.”

“This is fucking different, though,” Lupe says, through gritted teeth, “and you know it.”

“I already told you it doesn’t need to be that different,” Jess bites back. “Has it been? Have we not stayed us?”

“It’s been a week,” Lupe says, “we can’t really know what it’d be like.”

And there it is. Jess knew it. They take a step off the wall to better face her, even if they don’t feel very stable on their feet, “You never actually had any intention to leave Veronica, didn't you?”

They didn’t want to think about it, but as they say it, they hear the truth of it. They see it in the guilt on Lupe’s face as she looks directly at them.

Guilt that soon turns into a whole kaleidoscode of emotions, “Well, would you really leave Emma? For—for me?”

Christ. A lump forms in Jess's throat. Both at the sheer complexity of that question, and at the catch they hear in Lupe's voice. The emotion they read on her face. Fear. That’s what it is. What it’s always been. Her fear that she’s not good enough to be chosen.

Well, she’s not the only one with that fear.

“I—fuck,” Jess bites their lips, to ground themself, “yeah, I would. You know I would. Do you think I haven't meant this past week? These past years?” They close their eyes for a second, then reopen them, even more determined. “I just don’t know if I will, because I at least owe Emma to do the trial with her. To not make my decision before clearing things up with her. You know I need to do that, so if it's a guarantee that you want, I can’t give you that. Like you can’t give it to me. We—we’ll each have to make our own decisions.”

Lupe blinks, hard, averting her eyes. Jess's heart squeezes in their chest at seeing obvious dampness there, even if Lupe is trying to hide it, push it away. “And so what if I leave Veronica, and you don’t leave Emma, uh? What am I supposed to do then?”

How is Jess supposed to know? They raise their arms to the air with a scoff, “Well, you could try being single for once! It sure can’t hurt you.”

Jess regrets their words as soon as they say them, and the hurt flashes on Lupe's face. Which she quickly cover with outrage, “Well then! I guess I’d rather be single, it’s much less of a fucking hassle.”

Jess passes a hand on their face, “Wait, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry, okay? But you can’t expect me to make a decision for you. I managed to live with your rejection, remember? You’d have to live with that too.”

This is still not how they wanted this conversation to go. Not what they'd like to be saying. And Lupe looks so dejected as she slumps against the wall, staring down at her shoes, “Then I guess I’m not as strong as you are.”

Jess’s breath halts in their throat. That is a confession in and of itself, one that the little creature inside Jess likes to hear very much. And it’s not as if they even want to reject Lupe. Right now, it'd be unthinkable.

But they can’t promise her, or themself, that. The guilt in their stomach demands them to make things right with Emma first.

“I think you’re plenty strong,” is what Jess says then, in a lower, softer voice. Which is the truth. They would have not been able to live through half of what Lupe did in her life.

Lupe peeks a glance at them, and her eyes are even redder than before, if dry, “Well, I’m not. See? I can’t even stand to fight you. I don’t want... to be fighting with you too.”

Jess’s eyebrows raise in surprise. In sudden understanding. They remember all the times they stood witness and felt powerless to bring Lupe out of a fight with that bitch, not even mentioning the times when they weren’t even there to see it and give their support. But if there’s one thing Jess knows, it's that they're not Veronica. “But we—sometimes we fight too, but it's never like that.”

“It could easily be,” Lupe says stubbornly, “can’t you see it? We’re already doing it. This is a—a lovers' fight now, and I don't want that for us. For it to change us.”

Jess would only like to gather Lupe in their arms now, and squash away all of her fears. All of their own too. But they need to tread carefully, to not spook Lupe even further away from them. 

What they’ve got to say, though, isn't easy. Not even for themself. “I—Lu, things are already different.” They sigh. “I don’t think we can go back to how things used to be, no matter what we choose.”

Lupe closes her eyes, and a tear does escape now, running down her cheek. Jess brings a hand to cup her face, and wipes it with their thumb, “But it doesn’t have to be a bad thing. These years have been great, but we haven’t exactly been super honest, don't you think?”

Lupe makes a face, even as they lean it into Jess's hand.

“I told you,” Jess goes on, more firmly, “you’re never going to lose me. No matter what, we’re in each others’ life, okay? But either as a friend or—or more, I want us to be able to evolve. And not be so scared.”

Lupe, then, takes a deep breath, as Jess's heart awaits in trepidation. They haven't said everything they would like to say, but this is what they can. For now. 

Lupe's arm comes up to wrap around Jess’s wrist, and she finally looks at them. As soon as their eyes meet, she says, between gritted teeth, “Fuck,” which makes Jess smile despite themself.

“Jess,” Lupe says then, “I mean it too. You’re right, I do need to figure shit out with Veronica first. But—but you are… an option. Wait, that sounds bad,” she rubs her face, and Jess actually laughs, “I mean that I could choose you. I can see myself choosing you. Is that crazy? Are we crazy?”

“Well, I sure hope we're not," Jess says. "I mean, my parents don't seem to think we are.”

"Jesucristo," Lupe says, burying her face in her hand again, “your parents. I made a whole scene.”

“Hey, it’s understandable,” Jess says. They realize only now that they’ve gotten so much closer, and, with a skip of their heart, that Lupe has her other fingers looped around their belt loop, which is suddenly far too endearing to them. “They won't mind. They love you.” Like I do.

But that's too much.

Lupe frees her face, and looks at them again, embarrassment on her face, but also relief, "Maybe."

“So do you think,” Jess dares, “that we can go back in there and have dinner with them? I’m starving.”

“God,” Lupe chuckles, "me too."

Jess smiles. Their hand hasn't stopped cupping Lupe's face, and they use it now to pull her a bit closer. Lupe's breath has an itch, which Jess isn’t displeased about. “And do you think you can be my wife in there? I want you to officially meet my parents.” 

Lupe's eyebrows raise, her whole face looks tight. She has an internal debate for a whole two seconds. Then she inches closer, pulls on Jess’s belt loops too, and says, “Okay, Casanova,” before their lips meet.

It takes quite a few minutes before they walk back inside. Much needed minutes of rebalancing, regrounding, reconnecting—whatever you want to call it. Making out, that’s what it is. The warmth of it makes it easier to feel less nervous as they go back to the table, hand in hand.

Even if they’re not any less embarrassed. The flush on their faces is quite telling, and Jess's parents will be teasing them.

“So mom, dad,” Jess says, as they both seat down, and their parents look at them curiously, and yes, amused, “this is my current wife.”

Lupe, a bit slumped into her chair, in contrast with her previous stick figure, actually laughs at that.

“Ah! Lovely,” Agatha says, with a big smile, picking up her glass of conveniently-placed champagne, “this deserves a toast.”

And so they toast. Rather chaotically.

“To the fake couple!”

“Dad!”

“What? You ain't married yet. I expect to be invited to the wedding.”

“You can well say that, honey.”

“Ugh, sometimes I do miss my own family…”

“Shut up. No, you don’t, García.”

“Maybe I will invite them to our wedding, so what then, McCready?”

“Only if they’ll eat the rainbow cake, baby.”

Chapter Text

The frenzy of that first week after crossing the intimacy line does fade somewhat going into the next. For one, Lupe's got more work to do, plus she gets her period and she's cranky about it. She spends hours on end fighting sleep curled up on the couch with her laptop on her, well, lap, and it's hard to feel sexy or motivated enough to do anything else afterward.

This is another thing she feared, amongst the apparent list of fears that she blurted out in front of Jess's parents. That normal, boring day-to-day life would kill and smother that amazing flow they had going on. Like it always does with anything.

Yet even in her current gremlin mode, when Jess comes back from a grocery run and the first thing they do is smile at her, Lupe's stomach warms up and flips like a pancake. 

“I’ve got your pads, babe,” Jess says, walking up to place the pack on the coffee table in front of her, bending down to place a kiss on her cheek in the same motion.

“Thanks,” Lupe mumbles, now not just her stomach warm—she finds herself touching the imprint of Jess's lips when they turn around.

And her gaze keeps following Jess, as they get back to the kitchen area and start unloading the groceries. She would get up to help, but for some reason she can’t. It’s not her period cramps. It’s just—Jess. She's too busy being enthralled by them, by the casual domesticity, the babe, the kiss, the thinking of her at the store, when Jess doesn't even seem to notice themself doing it all anymore.

Lupe would like not to notice it too. To just go with this flow. Because it may not be as hot as last week, but it's still… nice. And certainly warm.

Fuck this misery. Lupe places her laptop on the coffee table next to the pads, and walks up to Jess. They deserve a better greeting. 

Jess is too focused on placing food in a cabinet to turn towards her as she approaches, so Lupe takes advantage of it to wrap her arms around their stomach from behind, leaning her chin on their shoulder with an exhale.

That makes Jess pause what they're doing, and lean back against her, “Hi.” She hears a smile in their voice.

“Hi,” Lupe says, a bit muffled by Jess's shirt.

Jess rubs their thumb on the back of Lupe’s hand, slowly, soothingly, “Feeling any better?”

“A little.”

“I can make you a heat pack.”

Lupe breathes in deeper, “That'd be nice.”

She sees Jess's smile then, as Jess turns around into her arms. Their face is suddenly much closer than Lupe had been prepared for, and she can't believe how audible the hitch is in her breath. They’ve been horny on main all week with each other, and this is what gets her? Jess’s thumb now caressing her cheek, and their bodies drawing closer, fully clothed?

Damn it. Yes it is. Lupe wraps her arms around Jess's neck, and kisses them firmly to not linger on that feeling, but it's not like it helps. As Jess wraps their arms around her waist and deepens the kiss, Lupe's throat closes up just as her mouth opens. They’ve got less than a week left together, and the thought of it makes her hold on to Jess even harder.

It’s just her damn hormones. That’s what. Coloring everything in darker, more intense colors. Making her cling for dear life onto things too good to be true reaching their natural end.

Lupe pulls away, and they're both breathing hard. There's surprise in Jess's eyes at the moment they've just had, but she can tell they don't want it to end quite yet as their hands draw her hips closer still. Yet, Lupe can't handle a second more of this without doing something embarrassing like crying. It's bad enough that she basically did during their fight outside the restaurant.

So she clears her throat and steps back, signs that Jess catches and make them release her. Even if they look disappointed about it by the way they slump back on the kitchen counter.

“Thanks for the groceries, Jess,” Lupe says, and starts digging into the bag to help unload. Not thinking about how weird it feels to just call them that, and not a… pet name. But it's better like this.

After one more beat in which Lupe can feel Jess’s eyes boring into her, Jess gets back to it too. They work in tandem, in silence, until Jess asks, in a clear attempt at bringing them back into easier territory, “So are you done with work?”

“Not yet,” Lupe says, “got one last file to check.”

“Cool,” Jess says, “then I'll start dinner.”

Lupe glances at them, as they sift through the fridge, “We could just get take out, you know.”

“Nah, I feel like cooking,” Jess says, grabbing a few veggies and placing them on the counter. They grin at her, “That is, if you trust me enough with it.”

Lupe, despite herself, feels a smile tug at her lips, “I guess so.” I'd trust you with my life, idiot.

What? That’s a bit too cheesy even for her period brain.

“Just holler if you need help,” Lupe says then, and walks back to her work station.

Jess does a test holler when she hasn't even reached it, sounding like a deer in fucking heat, and Lupe jumps right out of her skin. Turning back, Jess is bent over in laughter at having played one on her. What an idiot. She flips the bird at them.

It's not as bad, then, to be working while Jess hums a tune in the kitchen, their head rocking in time with the song blasting in their headphones as they chop carrots. Lupe is definitely distracted by it, and she takes more than it should to finish her task because of it, but she can’t help it. Watching Jess just be themself makes anything more bearable.

Isn’t that a thought. 

Stupid. It feels so stupid, to be feeling it, seeing it all now. To be called out by everybody and their mother. Especially by Jess’s mother and father—she's still so fucking embarrassed for making a fool out of herself in front of them. They really thought, all this time, that Lupe stuck around just because she was sweet on their Jess, and didn't give a shit about the rest of them.

Well, she be damned. It's not entirely right, she does care a lot about the McCreadys, some more than others… but her McCready is undoubtedly Jess.

Lupe huffs, and closes her laptop. Done. For better or worse. Not some of her best work, but this is all the bandwidth she’s got, given the circumstances. If this show makes her lose her job too, it’d be bingo.

“Dinner is served,” Jess declares in a dramatic accent, approaching the couch with a tray that they place on the coffee table.

Lupe's stomach immediately growls, “Bless you and your cow.”

Jess chuckles, “Which one?”

“Obviously Bessy,” Lupe says, thinking of the biggest McCready cow in Moose Jaw, “I know she’s your favorite.”

“Shush,” Jess digs their foot into Lupe's thigh as they settle on the couch with their plate on their lap, “don’t tell the others.”

Lupe bites back a stupid smile, as she picks up her own plate, “I’ll make sure not to. And to pet all of them next time.” Next Christmas.

Why do you keep coming for Christmas, uh?

What will next Christmas look like, after all of this?

Too much. Lupe waves her own inconvenient train of thought away, as Jess hums, pleased that none of their animals will be devoid of love. They look too fucking cute when they’re happy about something. Especially all curled up at the other end of the couch, looking too cuddly for comfort.

Lupe forces herself not to stare at them too hard. She's gotta preserve herself a little bit. Even if she hates it. It’d be her right to indulge, since she's their current wife and all.

Damn it. Damn it all to hell. Is she… in love with Jess? Has she always been? It’s what people have said, it’s what Lupe has worried about too, and shoved down to not deal with it. But is it true true? Or is it just the effect of this fucking show making it look like it?

She can't afford to get it wrong, as the stakes are too high.

Damn it all to fucking hell and back.

Jess nudges her with their foot again, “Hey, you alright?”

And damn them for being too fucking perspective.

“No,” Lupe says, placing the empty plate back on the table, and getting up, “still feeling like shit. Guess I'll just take a shower and go to bed. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize, Lu,” she hears Jess say, a bit sadly, but she's already too far away to respond.

She enters the bedroom, and, from there, the bathroom. The hot water of the shower makes her groan in relief, but only slightly. Damn it. Damn it, damn it. She'd rather not feel so down right now, she would like to just enjoy this week before everything goes to hell, but—

A slight knock on the door. Lupe turns off the faucet, surprised—Jess does not usually knock anymore, “Yeah?”

“Lu. Can I join you?”

Lupe's breath halts for a second. They usually don't ask either. They don't have to. The answer has been unequivocally yes. But Lupe is suddenly immensely grateful for their fucking endless consideration. Even if she hates hearing the hesitation, the uncertainty in their voice. And feeling it in herself too.

She gulps, looking down at her feet, “There’s… there’s blood in here.”

“I don’t fucking care.”

Lupe huffs a laugh. Typical. And with a sigh, Lupe feels more relief flood her, “Alright.”

She turns the faucet back on, because it’s getting cold, and to have something to do as Jess gets in and takes their clothes off. Despite herself and her misery, Lupe's lower regions perk up in interest.

Even more so when Jess slides the shower door open and steps in. Lupe's hand moves to grab Jess’s wrist immediately, to pull them closer, and let Jess get under the stream too. Jess closes their eyes as they do, and they look peaceful, but there's also an underlying weariness on Jess’s face that Lupe can't stand to see.

So when Jess is properly wet, she draws them in for a hug, sighing as she nuzzles her face into Jess's neck. Feeling them relax too. And Lupe can't help herself—she presses a kiss into Jess's skin. Then another one. And another, making her way up their neck. Jess breathes out shakily, holding her closer, then they do the same, their tongue coming out to lick, then suck a spot on Lupe’s neck.

Lupe bites back a gasp. Jess has sucked her skin before, but she can feel them get more into it, enough that she knows it’s going to bruise if she doesn't stop them—which she doesn’t do. No, Lupe bends her head back to give them better access, as her breath comes out faster, until she’s frantic with it, desperate for Jess to mark her, for proof of this time together to stay on her a bit longer.

Then she raises Jess’s face to hers to kiss them properly, longer, to make up for pulling away before in the kitchen. Jess moans into her mouth, and Lupe knows they needed this just as much as she does.

Oh, if she does. She's about to ask for it, beg even, but Jess’s hand is already trailing down her side, leaving goosebumps along the way, and Lupe is the one to moan into Jess's mouth this time.

Jess halts and pulls away just for a second, just to see the confirmation on her face, and when they inevitably do, they kiss her again. Lupe can't keep up the kiss for long, though, needing to lean her forehead on Jess's shoulder, panting, as Jess's fingers slip between her legs and start rubbing her clit. God, she would not have been able to ask it if they weren’t literally already naked and wet in the shower, but the intensity of it, as well as the true relief that starts cursing through her, tells her that this is exactly what she needed.

She lets out a long groan, her arms tightening their hold on Jess’s neck, as her hips roll into her orgasm, not a fast and jerky one, but one slower, all-encompassing, that Jess draws out by keeping up the pressure.

Then she takes a deep, sobering breath, and leans with all her weight into Jess, who catches her readily into their arms.

In thanks, she leaves another kiss into Jess's neck, smiling into it. Jess kisses her head instead, with a chuckle, before they turn on the faucet to let the warm water wash over them both. Lupe sighs in pleasure at it.

When she feels steady enough, she straightens back up to take Jess's face into her hands and give her a kiss on the mouth, and thank her properly.

Jess's smile is a little sheepish, a little smug, “This wasn’t my intention in coming here.”

Lupe rolls her eyes, threading her fingers into Jess's loose hair, “You never have any intentions, uh?”

Jess bites their lips, caught, “Alright,” then pecks Lupe’s, and whispers more roughly, “I wanted you.”

“Mhm.” That's more like it. Lupe smirks, before kissing them again, a little deeper, letting their tongues slide together as she pushes Jess against the shower wall.

Jess hisses at the contact with the colder surface, but when Lupe looks at them, clear in her intention, Jess's eyes turn darker, hotter, and they lean their head back in surrender, “Fuck.”

She’ll never tire to marvel at the sounds Jess makes as she fucks them, half-bitten whimpers, like it hurts a little to feel so good. Each rub of her fingers against their clit has them spread their legs wider and lean more heavily against the wall. Lupe places her other hand on Jess’s ribcage, and meets their clouded eyes to communicate her intention, as her thumb stokes the underside of their tit.

Jess digs their teeth into their bottom lip a little harder, leaving imprints on it, and nods.

Lupe kisses their lips first, swallowing their short gasps, her fingers slowing down a little just to bask in all their wetness trailing down their inner thighs. She holds Jess's gaze, then, as she lowers her face to their tit, and takes the nipple in between her teeth. Pulling on it.

That higher-pitched whimper is sweet to hear. It gets higher as she starts sucking on Jess’s tit, Jess's fingers tangling into her hair to keep her in place, prompting her to go harder. Lupe's own fingers speed up again against their cunt then, dipping just lightly inside, while her thumb circles their clit. That has Jess let out a longer groan and “Yes, yes, Lu,” which has her grin a little around their nipple.

But Lupe has to kiss them on the mouth again, and swallow those sounds, when Jess starts to come, spilling into her hand, grinding themself frantically, jerkily, against it. She likes to marvel at how Jess looks and feels into her arms after they’ve gone silent too, when that coil of energy unravels and lets themself go against her. Trusting that she will hold them up.

Lupe does.

After, as they're both drying themselves up and getting dressed, Lupe swats Jess’s ass with a towel. Just to see them turn to her with an affronted look that soon turns into a grin, their face still a little flushed. Thanks to her.

“You don’t want to start this war,” Jess warns her.

Lupe bites her own lips, “Or what?”

Jess pulls up their boxers first, then catches her by the hips. She doesn’t have much space to flee and avoid it, after all—even if she wanted to. She expects to be swatted back, instead what she gets is an ambush of kisses to her face that has her giggling like a fucking idiot, “This is cheating!”

“Aw, don’t be such a sore loser.”

She is not. She acts like one, because her pout earns her a sweeter, apology-kiss. Now that her eyes are wide open, she can see much clearer all the ways Jess is sweet on her.

“You want me to give you a massage?” Jess asks her then, almost to prove her point, as they get in bed.

Well. What was shaping up to be a terrible day, and night, is turning out to be quite nice instead. “Christ. Do you even have to ask?” She’s already turning on her stomach.

Jess laughs, before they straddle her legs and start kneading their hands into her back, slipping them under her shirt. She's immediately groaning about it. This has always been her favorite amongst Jess's many skills. Now, it may have to be… her second favorite.

With her eyes closed, she mutters, “Did I ever tell you that I love that you’ve become a physiotherapist?”

“Hmm,” she can hear the amusement in Jess's voice, “once or twice. I do treat your arm for free, so you have to suck up to me at the very least.”

“Is that so?” Lupe peeks an eye open, raising her eyebrows suggestively, “I think I’ve done more than enough of that. But I can always do more, you just need to ask.”

Jess fails to hide both their embarrassed flush and their obvious interest at that, “As a policy, I can’t accept that. And I do not flirt with patients.”

“Too late.”

Jess grins, and, as their hands work on Lupe's shoulders, they lean closer to press a kiss on her cheek, “Don’t tell the others, then.”

Lupe closes her eyes again, a smile permanently plastered on her face, probably. She does enjoy being Jess's favorite patient. “Wouldn’t dare,” she sighs, “what did you tell your patients about such a long absence? How will they ever survive without you?”

“Oh,” Jess chuckles, “I just told them that I was going to do a training course in another state. I doubt they’ll ever end up watching this.”

“If they do, you’ll be in trouble,” Lupe mumbles, just to keep herself awake. She can feel herself already slipping.

“What’s some more?” Jess sighs, and ain't that the truth. This show is either the worst decision they’ve ever made, or, well— “What about you? What did you tell your boss?”

Lupe scoffs, “I had to tell him the truth, actually. He was gracious enough to let me work remotely, but I had to sign a fuckton of additional confidentiality papers and blah blah, where I swore I wouldn’t reveal business secrets on camera etcetera.” She snorts. “Why would I even want to? Work is the last thing on my mind.”

Jess hums, far too seriously, “And what’s the first?”

Lupe opens both eyes to glare at them, as much as she can, as blissed out as she is, “Don’t be a smart ass, McCready.”

Jess pouts, “Oh, so I’m McCready now? When I’m treating you so nicely?”

Lupe smirks up at them, “Look at you, asking for pet names.”

“I—I haven't asked,” Jess mumbles. Caught, again.

“Go on then.”

She really got them. Jess stops the massage, which Lupe regrets a little, but not entirely when Jess gets off of her and lays down next to her, until their face is right in front of hers, “If you stop being such a jerk about it, I will.”

Lupe only smirks more. She props herself up to lay on her side, so she can wrap an arm around Jess, and let their legs tangle, “You calling me a jerk when I’m in pain? And I was still so good to you?”

Jess rolls their eyes, but their ears are pleasantly red and they hold her closer, tucking Lupe's face into the crook of their neck, at which her eyes immediately droop closed. “Okay, truce,” Jess's mouth moves closer to Lupe's ear, to whisper, “Feeling any better now, baby?”

Lupe involuntarily shivers, but she’s not ready to dwell on how good it feels for Jess to call her that, “Yes. Gracias, cariño.”

Jess's smile meets hers in an appreciative kiss. They're so easy to please. Lupe wants to know more ways to do it. Wants to learn them all.

She sighs, yawns, then leans her head against Jess's shoulder again, “Let’s watch a movie.”

Jess snorts, “So that you can immediately fall asleep?”

Lupe makes an indignant face, “I won't.”

“Right.”

Lupe kicks them in the shin, “Come on, jerk.”

Jess sighs long-sufferingly, but their smile betrays them again, “Fine, fine.”

Lupe does not intend to fall asleep. She quite enjoys cuddling Jess, as But I'm a cheerleader plays on Jess’s laptop propped up on their legs, her fears mostly put to rest. A normal, boring night like this still feeling so nice can only be a win, and she doesn't want to miss it.

But she also just… enjoys it too much, that her whole body melts into it, close to purring or some shit. Her eyes do close, just for a minute. And they don't open back up.

She’s still only half-asleep, so she is vaguely aware of when Jess closes the laptop, puts it away and settles back down with her. She feels the kiss on her head too, and hears, “Buena noches, cariño.”

In her last awake thought, she remembers how hard Jess had studied to learn Spanish. For Esti, sure, but also, clearly, for her too. And she, at least, loves them for that.

“Working today too?” Jess asks her as they have breakfast on the balcony in the morning, and Lupe groans.

“Yeah,” she eyes them, “you should get out, though. No need to waste away in here with me.”

Jess looks conflicted about it, but not disagreeing, and definitely a little guilty about it, “You sure you’ll be alright?”

“Yeah, it's a Friday at least,” she quirks a corner of her mouth up, “I’ll survive, and then I’m fucking free.”

Jess grins too, and finally nods.

“Just,” Lupe adds, and Jess looks at her, curious, a hint of expectations in their eyes, as if they would stay if Lupe asked them to, “don’t have too much fun without me.”

She’s aware of the cameras snooping on them from the window, as well as how needy that sounded. But, well.

Jess's grin widens, a bright smile to start the day, and maybe that’s what Lupe needed.

Jess doesn’t respond though, merely hums, picks up their plates, and gets up, at which Lupe cannot hold back the slight pout on her lips. Which feels stupid when Jess leaves a kiss on the top of her head, and says, far too softly, “I couldn’t.”

Lupe hides her blush, as well as her pleased smile, into the motion of grabbing her pack of cigarettes and lighting one up.

Before Jess has gone back inside, though, she yells after them, “Let’s go out to a bar tonight!” She doesn’t want to stay a boring, middle-aged couple every night.

Jess doesn't miss a beat, “Now that’s what I’m talking about, García!”

Lupe huffs out smoke as a laugh.

Yet the differences in going to a bar with Jess strike Lupe immediately. Just a few weeks ago they had their “date” in this same place, not even taking it seriously, joking around about this whole situation, while now… they walk in, hand in fucking hand. Lupe barely cares about the people here, nor the live band in the corner, not even about her drink. She slides into a booth in the corner, Jess following right behind her, and the first thing she does is angle herself towards Jess and throw a leg haphazardly on top of theirs.

Jess does turn their eyes intently on her, not surprised, but clearly glad for it. Interested. They place a hand on Lupe's knee, and leave it there. Like some kind of claim. An ownership. And Lupe would lie if she didn’t admit to liking it. Wanting it. If Jess were truly to be her partner, she'd want no one to make the mistake that Lupe is not theirs. And vice versa.

Is this what she likes? Possessiveness? Codependency? What of her once so desired freedom and independence as she left her family home? 

That’s been an illusion for a long time anyway. She has been Veronica’s possession for long enough, a Veronica who glares at everyone who dares come too close to her girlfriend, unless she's in on it too.

Which begs the question why she didn’t push Jess away from her earlier. Or—now that she can't deny their animosity towards each other, their rivalry, anymore—maybe that’s what she’s been doing all along.

Fuck. She can’t be in a stupid love triangle. Or square or whatever. Yet it's what it is, and it's up to her to decide who's going to have her. Veronica and her long nails scratching the side of her neck, causing it to shiver. Or Jess and their strong, yet gentle hand holding her thigh, making her stomach flutter.

Jess's lips brushing against her jaw take her off guard. She blinks, puts them into focus, the raise of Jess's eyebrows, Are you okay?

“Wanna dance?” she blurts out instead of answering. She doesn't know where it comes from, but the music has gotten louder, more upbeat, and people have started to dance. Couples, many queer ones, as this is a gay bar.

Jess sure looks surprised now, but, again, she answers, “Sure.” Does Jess ever say no to anything Lupe asks of them? At this moment, as the alcohol starts to buzz into her system, she’s not entirely sure.

And it is Jess, not her, who, as they start dancing close to each other, draws her even closer, pulling on the loops in her jeans. Their eyes only focused on her, and nothing else.

Just as Lupe's, in the end, are on them. So she lets Jess pull her in until their hips are flush against each other, and their lips too.

She regrets their outing a little in the morning when her hangover hits her like a truck. But not that much, not when she’s still got Jess to cuddle up to.

“‘orning,” she mumbles as she feels them wake up.

Jess groans, “Fuck. We aren’t as young as we used to be.”

Lupe hums in sympathy, “Where’s your spirit, McCready?”

Jess squeezes her tighter, “I’ll go get us some aspirin, that’s where.”

Oh. “You don't have to, babe,’ Lupe mumbles into Jess’s neck, but Jess presses a kiss on her cheek and, groaning some more, slips away to get up, “I'll be quick. Start making breakfast, if you wanna be useful.”

Lupe squints an eye open, and Jess chuckles at seeing her slightly affronted look, “I see, so that's how it is?”

Jess winks at her, “Viva la equality, babe.”

Lupe laughs as Jess pulls up their pants and leaves the room. Which hurts her head, damn them.

But she won't disappoint them. After sipping some coffee in the kitchen, she is a little bit more coherent, and welcomes the crew with a decent enough smile.

Which she immediately regrets.

“Lupe, do you mind talking to us for a second?”

Lupe groans internally. These interviews are getting harder by the day, and Bev had to catch her in this state, didn't she? Taking advantage of Jess's short absence to corner her.

She sighs, munching on a piece of bread, “Sure. Hit me with it.”

Surprisingly, Bev is not such a bulldozer today. She takes her time. “How are you feeling, Lu?”

How is she feeling? Well, isn’t that a question. “Fine.” Bev raises a skeptical eyebrow, and Lupe rolls her eyes. “I am fine,” she waves around pointedly, “you know that I’m enjoying being Jess’s wife or whatever.” She lowers her gaze, crosses her arms, shrugs, “I’m also obviously not fine, so yeah.”

“Yeah,” Bev says, and for once there’s no teasing in her tone, “this is all a lot, isn’t it?”

Lupe huffs a small, bitter laugh, “You can say it.”

“Do you have any idea what you’re going to do?” Bev asks, still so unnervingly kind, or as much as a gruff older lesbian can be.

She sighs, “No.” She would like to have an answer. For Jess’s sake, and her own. But– “I know it may seem like we’re being a bit careless right now, but we—I mean, I am thinking about it, and I know that it’s a shit situation, okay?” She huffs louder, leaning back against the counter as now she is thinking about it even harder, back into her usual spiral, “And what do you want me to tell you? I’ve been with Veronica for a long-ass time, and sure, our relationship isn’t perfect, but how is it fair to compare two weeks of—of whatever this has been to–to three years with her?”

She’s on a roll now, not even needing Bev to ask anything to go on, to voice her thoughts aloud, “But also, what are three years to seven? I—I’ve been so fucking blind to what was right in front of me. Jess has been there for me all along, and I took it for granted. I realize now how close the line has always been between being just friends and… more. But, you know, in my experience, being together romantically with someone complicates things. Messes things up. So I guess I just tried obsessively to keep Jess in a different category to not lose them like any other lover.” Fuck. She shakes her head, her eyes pointed to the door where Jess will be coming in from, “If we could just… keep being weirdly codependent but in denial about it, then everything would be fine, right?”

There’s no real sentiment in her next laugh, as a big lump jumps up and down her throat, “Except it has not been fine. We’ve hurt our girlfriends as a result, without even realizing it. We’ve basically kept our feet in two different shoes all this time.”

For once, she looks straight at the camera. For the first time, she dares herself think about who may end up watching, and listening to her. If they’ll hate her, and Jess, for their callous, reckless behavior. Or if anybody at all will have it in them to find a shred of sympathy for her.

In any case, all she’s got to offer is as much honesty as she can muster right now, “I know there’s no way to get out of this without someone getting even more hurt. Either me, or Veronica, or Jess, or Emma. Or—or all of us. And I’m just… sorry. So fucking sorry.”

She slumps back against the kitchen counter, spent. A wave of sadness washing over her whole.

Even more surprisingly, Bev steps out from behind the camera to come up and place a hand on her shoulder, “I know right now it may all seem hopeless. It will be hard to face it all and solve all this shit, I won't lie to you, kid. But I know without a doubt that you’ll get through it. You and Jess have got the stuff to weather it all. Things will sort themselves out eventually.”

Lupe blinks, pressing her lips together, as she watches Bev’s weathered, kind face. She guesses this woman has seen it all already, so she knows. And Lupe wonders what Bev believes—if she and Jess are going to end up together. She sure has been supportive of them from day one. “T–thanks.”

She and Jess. Together. A couple. Back in New York. Waking up in the same bed, going to work separately or to baseball practice together, and then, at the end of the day, coming back home to unwind and cook and laugh and then maybe kiss… fuck in a bed properly, without prying eyes… then fall asleep into each other’s arms. Every single day.

Lupe swallows her lump. Does she want it? Is it realistic? Or will it not translate well beyond the confines of this show?

How is she to know? How is she meant to make such a blind, crucial decision that may change the trajectory of her entire fucking life?

Fucking hell. She is so damn fucked.

And all she knows how to do when Jess comes back is hug them tight. Jess makes a little noise of surprise as she pulls them in without much of a greeting, but Lupe doesn’t let go, and simply hopes they won’t ask, they won’t make a big deal out of it. She just needs a goddamn minute.

Jess, after a beat, does return the hug. They rub her back softly, and press a kiss to her hair, “What do you need, Lu?”

Lupe huffs. She pulls away, but Jess keeps their arms around her, and she's glad to have something solid to hold on to, as her own mind and body are a formless mess. “Fuck, I don’t know,” she rubs her tired eyes, “I just,” and shakes her head. In doing so, she catches a glimpse of the camera behind Jess and all of a sudden she's had enough. Of them all, of this entire situation. All she needs to do is fucking scream.

Jess squeezes her shoulder, firmly enough to make her stare at them. There’s determination in Jess's eyes, “Why don't we go for a walk and eat something out?”

Lupe releases all her breath. She guesses that’s as good as anything, “Sure.”

Maybe she has just been cooped up too much this week. After swallowing down the aspirin, washing up, and getting ready, it’s already a little better. Jess takes a minute longer, then they’re both at the door. Sunlight does help too, and Lupe hadn’t realized how famished she was until she’s moaning into her first bite of a burger. Jess, predictably, chuckles, but it’s softer than it may be in other circumstances. Their leg pressed against Lupe's under the table, and their ankles linked, tells her that Jess can tell she’s out of sorts. Or Jess may be just as much. It's a mutual comfort.

“Alright, we’ve got enough, we’ll leave you to it, you two. We’ll be back at the house in the evening.”

That sentence comes right out of left field. Both her and Jess turn towards Bev with downright shock on their faces. Sure, they don’t get filmed 24/7, but usually they’re not left alone so soon in the day.

“Cool,” Jess says, hesitantly, but with clear trepidation, “bye, then. See you.” 

Lupe waves a hand, her only thought good riddance.

When they are alone, she meets Jess’s eyes, and she can find the same relief there. Jess puffs their cheeks, then exhales all the air painfully slowly. It perfectly conveys both their frustration, but it also looks so ridiculous that Lupe has to put a hand on her mouth to stifle a far too loud laugh.

“Don’t need to hold back, we’re not being filmed right now,” Jess says, pressing their palms together, raising their eyes to the ceiling, “finally!”

Lupe scoffs, shakes her head, “Yeah, but for what, a couple of hours? And only if we stay far away from the flat.” She takes a sip of her cola, and fucking sighs. This has gotten so damn confusing and exhausting. “I just wish we could have a minute alone, in—” she glances at the people around them, “—in fucking private. But shit, we signed up for this, so no, it’s too much to ask.”

She sighs again, with a little growl in it. She knows she’s being a bummer, and she doesn’t even have her period to blame anymore. But they’ve got just two days left together, and there’s only so much she can make sense about any of this with constant eyes pointed at them. There’s always, always the doubt that the microscope they’re under may be amplifying things, when the truth may just be—smaller. Simpler.

“What,” Jess says, their eyes a bit lowered, as they clear their throat, “what if there is a way to have it?”

Lupe looks at them skeptically, “Yeah, right, how? You can’t ask them for a whole day off. And we can’t disable the cameras, they’d sue us.”

Jess is worrying at their lips, and when they do meet Lupe’s eyes, Lupe sees it—there is definitely a scheme forming in there. Lupe straightens up, starting to get intrigued. “There’s no need for all that. And we—” Jess shrugs, “we don’t need a whole day. Just… a few more hours? I don’t know, it’s just an idea.”

Lupe, still confused, frowns at their hermano’s suddenly weird behavior, “What are you trying to get at, McCready?”

Jess’s teeth are still buried in their lower lip, and the slight redness at the tip of their ears sure intrigues her even more, “What if we…” they lean on the table to whisper, “rent a hotel room?”

Lupe’s eyes and mouth widen like a fish’s. Her and Jess? Alone in a hotel room? Without hidden cameras? The implications swirl in her stomach like a vortex. “They–they won’t ever let us do it.”

“They don’t need to know,” Jess says, still whispering, “we could go now. Then come back home later as if we were just on a… walk.”

A walk. How simple. Despite herself, a smile starts playing on Lupe’s lips. Who knew Jess could be so sneaky and clever. Actually, she doesn’t have a hard time believing it. Who knows in what woods they’ve done what. “Hmm. And pray tell,” some kind of exhilaration is starting to get to her too, making her bolder, “what are you planning to do with me in a hotel room, uh?”

She loves when Jess’s fair skin just keeps betraying them, spreading the blush down to their cheeks. It’s so counter to how tough and sharp Jess likes the world to see them. “We—we can just talk,” Jess’s stutter is also adorable, “for real. About… everything.”

Lupe hums again, and takes a longer sip of her cola until she’s slurping the last drops of it. Then she places it down, and leans closer to Jess’s beet-red ear, “Silly me that I thought we could fuck. Naked.” A beat. “Over the sheets.” She can already taste the luxury of it all in her mouth.

Jess clears their throat much more loudly, “Or,” yet their voice is still rough, and when they look at her there’s heat in their bright eyes, “or we could do that.”

Lupe’s grin must be shit-eating, she knows it, “Then lead the way, Casanova.”

They both walk casually, hands in their pockets, gazes focused on the street in front of them. Like just two dudes going on a brotherly walk. While on the inside, Lupe is bursting with anticipation. Privacy. Real privacy. A whole space and time just for the two of them, without witnesses nor interruptions. Is that what heaven looks like?

She’s so full to the brim with the need for it that her palms start sweating, and her thoughts start spiraling. It’s… too good to be true, isn’t it? What if they are still being followed and they’ll get immediately caught? What if the hotels around the area are in on it and also have hidden cameras? Or worst of all, once they’re truly alone, what if… it’s too awkward, and it feels bad, or wrong?

Jess’s hand, out of the blue, sneaks into the crook of Lupe’s elbow, then slides down until it finds Lupe’s hand into the pocket. Lupe’s heart skips a beat, and she stops in her tracks to look at Jess, who’s already looking at her. Lupe munches on her lips, wanting to say something, anything, but Jess shakes their head, and cups her face with their other hand. Then they lean in, and kiss her. Simply. Lupe closes her eyes and lets out an exhale into Jess’s mouth, before kissing her back, squeezing Jess’s hand that’s interlocked with hers. Her throat tightens again, as they just kiss, softly, slowly, in the middle of the sidewalk, in the middle of the day, on one of the most beautiful islands of the world. Like they’ve done for the past two weeks, as if it is as simple as breathing.

When she does pull away to catch her breath, a small sound comes out of her throat that’s far too close to a whimper than she would like. To hide it, she buries her face into Jess’s neck, and they both breathe into each other’s skin as they fall into a tight hug. Maybe the tightest hug they’ve ever had. Lupe’s head is spinning with it, because she’s feeling both the most emotional she’s felt in all this time—and that’s saying something—and the most down. Like Jess is about to leave her for good, to go where Lupe can’t follow them, and the thought of losing them is suddenly too much to bear. She can’t bear it. She can’t focus on it. She can’t keep this all in either. So she raises her head, and takes Jess’s face in her hands to kiss her again. Jess makes a sound of surprise at the intensity of it, but when Lupe’s tongue meets theirs, their next sound is a groan and they kiss her even deeper. They’ve got no real excuse to be kissing like this right now, in the middle of reaching their destination, yet the real magnitude of their passion for each other that they’ve had to somewhat repress may be too excited to come out that it’s spilling out before its time.

“Let’s—let’s go,” Jess manages to pant against her lips, a grin on theirs as they tug on Lupe's hand to pull her forward.

And Lupe, for some reason, laughs. Feeling stupid, like she’s floating all of a sudden. Jess's strides are confident in their destination, and that makes a lightbulb ding in her mind, “How long have you been planning this? Have you been scouting for hotels around the flat, McCready?”

Jess glimpses at her with guilt written all over their face, “Uhm. Maybe?”

That only has Lupe laugh harder and knock her shoulder against Jess's, “How very naughty of you.”

“Shut up,” Jess mumbles, knocking her back, “as if you haven't jumped on it in a millisecond.”

“Oh, I know what I'll be jumping on,” Lupe says, winking at Jess, smirking when that causes Jess to get even more flustered.

“You,” Jess first bites their lips, then tugs on Lupe's hand to pull her closer and press a lingering kiss on her cheek, “you are so very naughty, García.”

Lupe fucking snorts. This is getting ridiculous. It's incredible how quick their energy has gone up from their hangover to fucking exhilaration. Like two kids about to go on a rollercoaster.

Well, not far from the truth. Lupe swallows both her own and Jess's laugh into another kiss.

And she tries, as hard as she can, to keep a straight face as they get checked into a room. Jess does the same, looking all business-like as they give their contact and credit card, as if they and Lupe are about to have a work meeting in the room and not get their rocks off. The desk clerk keeps a professional face too, as that’s their job, but Lupe would swear their eyes keep glancing far too interestingly between the two of them, like they're doing some intense math. Likely wondering, how would they fuck? Who is doing what? That makes it even harder for Lupe not to just lose it in their face.

She doesn't, thankfully. But let's just say any professionality lasts only until Jess has the keys firmly secured in their hand, and the doors of the elevator close right before it starts going up. Then they burst out laughing.

“This is crazy,” Lupe says, as it finally hits her what they're doing. Sneaking out. Breaking rules. But what’s new? She used to do it all the time as a kid, and if she’d known Jess back then, it would’ve been even worse.

“It is,” Jess says, still snickering, “but,” and they look at Lupe. Just look.

They don't need to do much more than that for Lupe to raise an eyebrow and grab the front of Jess's shirt, starting to draw them closer, “Where were we?”

Jess bites back a smile, gulps, clearly interested, yet they say, “We're not there yet.”

“Oh, come on,” Lupe rolls her eyes, pulling a little harder, making Jess stumble forward, “live a little.”

But Jess puts up resistance, pressing their feet firmly to the ground, “Wait.”

“What?” Now Lupe is getting confused. Jess is looking more flustered again, which tells her that there’s something else they haven't told her, “What else are you up to, McCready?”

Jess opens their mouth, then closes it, and Lupe narrows her eyes at them a little dangerously. Jess gets saved only by the ding and the doors opening. That seems to spur them back into action, though, because they take Lupe's hand that is attached to their shirt, and start tugging on it to lead her forward again, “Come on, I'll show you.”

Lupe is intrigued again, as she doesn't understand what else Jess could have up their sleeve. She just keeps studying them, then. The determined set of their jaw, the tense clutch of their hand around the key. Nervous. They're nervous.

Lupe bites back a suddenly fond smile. She thought she knew all the things that make Jess nervous. But she never thought she'd be one of them.

She doesn't say anything, then, as Jess fumbles a little to open the door to their room, simply holds their other hand as support. And when they finally get in, and close the door behind them, Jess is not the only one who releases a breath. It's like ten tonnes of Lupe’s tension got left right out of the door, and all that’s left is a surreal quiet in this simple, anonymous hotel room.

They take a few steps in, but they linger in the little foyer where the door to the bathroom is, not quite stepping into the bedroom yet. Their hands are still linked, but Lupe keeps her distance, as Jess leans against the wall.

They stare at each other. So maybe they are both nervous. Lupe gulps, but starts caressing the back of Jess's hand with her thumb, to ease at least one of them. This is it. Or, at least, it’s something. Another test. A moment that takes them a little closer to their actual lives and farther away from the show. Lupe asks herself why she didn’t think of this too, because it sure looks like they’ve sorely been needing it.

“What is it, Jess?” she asks them, commending herself for there being no trace of teasing. Her thumb keeps moving back and forth, back and forth.

And Jess does squeeze her hand in acknowledgment, even if their gaze is lowered to the ground. Lupe doesn't like the look of that. Whatever it is, there’s no reason for Jess to keep it in now, when it’s just the two of them.

So she takes a step forward, and presses two fingers under Jess's chin to lift it up. And meet their eyes. She's kind of taken aback by what she finds there, because it’s not an emotion she was expecting, like sadness or guilt or regret. There’s rather a heat, an even more intense one than before, like a blue flame.

When Jess sees her noticing it, they unfreeze, and Lupe lights up with them, and from there it's hard to tell how many seconds pass between Jess’s hand cupping her neck, their lips meeting in a seething kiss, and Lupe's back meeting the wall behind her, with Jess crowding her space. Probably not many.

She’s surprised, but not disappointed at all. She's glad, actually, that she’s not the only one buzzing internally, craving this moment like air. Jess kisses her like they are starving, touches her like they’re trying to map her out, and presses themself against her like they can’t bear to feel any space between them.

It's all so overwhelming all at once, and so distracting, that it takes her more than it normally would to finally notice… what Jess has been hiding. And not up their sleeve. But somewhere else far more down, pressing hotly against her thigh.

Lupe pulls away from the kiss with a gasp, her eyebrows raised up as she stares at Jess in a whole new light, now that everything makes sense, “Are you packing, McCready?”

Jess's mouth hangs open for a second as they pant, then they do look down, and Lupe follows their gaze, to the now obvious bulge in the inner side of their pants. How did she not notice it before? Jess looks back up at her now with some guilt on their face, “Y—yeah. I—I just thought, you know, but that does not mean—don’t feel obligated to—”

This idiot. Lupe can't hold back a laugh, nor can she help but kiss Jess's mouth to stop their ramble. Jess hums in surprise into it, then pulls away to look at her with their own eyebrows raised, “Are you… into that?”

Lupe rolls her eyes, “What do you think? I can’t believe you've been gatekeeping this from me.”

“Well,” now Jess is starting to look amused too, “it would’ve been hard to use it in the house.”

“I think the bathroom would’ve worked perfectly fine,” Lupe says pointedly.

Jess huffs out a laugh, then they take Lupe's face in their hands to kiss her again, like they can’t help it. Lupe smiles into it. She can't believe this is what got Jess so flustered. So nervous.

She can understand it, though. “Is it,” Lupe asks, biting the inside of her cheek, “the same one you use with…?”

Jess grimaces a little, “Yeah. But, it’s clean, plus,” they sigh, “it's my cock, so I should be able to do whatever I want with it.”

“Hmm,” and that's it, the wave of arousal that Lupe has been trying to keep at bay as long as she could, hits her all at once, so that her voice comes from a whole other place inside her next, “I think that's your goddamn given right.”

Jess makes a noise as they hear it, and they both release a breath against each other’s lips, as their eyes hold each other in a gaze that could tell stories. Their chests are rising and falling against one another too, and Lupe feels it, when the rhythm of it reaches their hips too. Jess's cock rubs against her leg as a result, and Lupe closes her eyes for a second, letting herself feel the shivers rising from it.

Jess's mouth is suddenly hot into her neck, “You want it?”

What a ridiculous question. Lupe grabs the front of Jess's shirt, and pulls them in for another, open-mouthed kiss, “Yeah, McCready. I want your goddamn cock.”

Jess wasn’t expecting this enthusiasm. Sure, they were hoping for it. The thought of wearing the strap wouldn’t leave them as they got ready to get out earlier, as well as the hope that maybe this was the day they could finally execute their plan and manage to sneak out with Lupe.

Their decision to put it on had been impulsive, then, as Lupe had been waiting by the door. Not sure whether she would like that at all, but as the end of their trial marriage gets ever closer, Jess's need to make the most most out of it keeps only heightening.

Their gamble has worked out quite well, even better than anticipated. As Lupe kisses them with a fervent eagerness that still does not fail to amaze them, her hand reaches for the button of Jess's pants, and unbuttons it with a satisfying pop that sends a shiver down Jess's spine. Then she pulls down the fly, and slips the hand into Jess's pants, feeling for the dildo strapped to their leg. Jess's breath comes out short, as they break the kiss to look at Lupe's face again, at her blown pupils, her flushed cheeks, her kiss-bitten lips.

It hits them all over again, that she truly wants this. They know it's not what she usually does, none of their relationship these past weeks has been what she usually does, yet she’s opening her arms to it and welcoming it like an old friend.

Jess is an old friend, they guess. One Lupe is clearly attracted to, for how it still feels surreal, leaving Jess’s mind and body in a scramble of emotions they never thought they'd get to feel. And leaning into her desires does suit Lupe like a glove. Or like—

Christ. Jess needs to kiss her, and does, pulling her in for a slower kiss, to let the brush of their lips, their tongues, sear themselves further into Jess's skin, and into their brain. The fact that Lupe welcomed their idea for a hotel is also a relief, as they've been reaching a stalemate in the house, a point from which more intimacy and understanding would be necessary to go on, but their silent watchers are too undeserving to witness it, just like their first time.

Jess doesn't know whether they'll manage to fit everything they hope for into this handful of hours of privacy, especially as it’s already hard to not want to spend them entirely in the throes of passion and fuck anything else. But they do have questions, fears, even more difficult hopes, regrets, all jumbled together in a tangle that they at least wish to see more clearly before they have to part from Lupe. To have some sort of baseline to go off on, when they’ll be trialing a marriage with Emma too.

Jess rolls their hips, once, experimentally, into Lupe's hand, and that earns them a hum, a scrape of teeth on their bottom lip. Lupe's fingers thread the bandana they’ve used to keep the strap in place, while her other hand starts working to pull Jess’s pants down. How generous of her. Or just impatient.

Jess chuckles, and helps her along, until their pants pool around their ankles, and the dildo is freed from its cage. Their kiss turns even more breathless then, while Jess's hands slip under Lupe's t-shirt, caress her waist, slide up to cup her tits. Her nipples are already perked up, and Lupe sighs as Jess's thumbs tease them.

Then Lupe, all of a sudden, without breaking the kiss, starts walking, leading Jess backwards towards the bed. Jess's steps are only as big as their pants allow, though, and that’s just stupid. They stop Lupe's advance to kick their shoes and pants off of their feet, until they're standing in just their harness-boxers and shirt.

Not for long. Standing, that is. Lupe grins at them and pushes them even farther, so that the back of Jess's legs meet the bed, and Lupe's hands helpfully guide them to sit down on it by pushing down on their shoulders too.

Jess is fully laughing now, as they look up at Lupe, who’s still grinning, “Couldn’t wait to get to the bed, uh?”

“No offense,” Lupe says, the cocky grin on her lips enough to send Jess even further down the drain, “but I deserve a boring location and position after all the gymnastics we've had to do so far.”

"How disappointing, García," Jess grabs the belt loops of Lupe’s pants to pull her closer and fit her snugly between their legs, “it's important to keep in shape.”

They can tell Lupe's next comeback is on the tip of her tongue as she opens her mouth, yet the hands on Jess’s shoulders suddenly tighten, and she, surprisingly, gives up on it, leaning down to kiss them instead, “Shut up.”

Jess's eyebrows raise, but they aren't complaining. They smile into the kiss, as their hands follow Lupe's example and open up the button and fly of Lupe's pants. Lupe makes a humming sound, nodding without breaking the kiss, so Jess is swift, now guided by their own impatience, to tug Lupe's pants down.

But they could never win in impatience against one Lupe García, pitcher extraordinaire. Which is entirely counterintuitive, as being a pitcher requires a fair amount of patience, both in learning to pitch, and to play a whole ass game.

Well, it does not translate to sex, apparently. Lupe breaks the kiss quickly, if not smoothly, takes her own shirt off, and Jess is both not complaining and entirely grateful that Lupe rarely wears even a sports bra. And if this is how it's gonna be, then Jess won't stop their impulse to surge up and capture Lupe's nipple in their mouth, and suck on it.

The sound Lupe makes is entirely unrefined, a rattling thing that satisfies that little creature in Jess's chest that has been filing all of Lupe’s reactions for later. Lupe's hold on their shoulders tightens even more, almost painfully, and her chest juts farther forward to give Jess better access. They indulge in it. They let their tongue swirl around Lupe's aureola, coating it in spit, then wrap their lips around the nipple again to suckle on it some more.

“Fuck, Jess,” Lupe gasps, then lets out a higher moan, as Jess's fingers pinch, hard, her other nipple. The only regret Jess has is not being able to see her face, but only imagine all the ways it's morphing in pleasure.

It's already so palpable, their higher level of freedom. Of being able to indulge, and be as loud as they want. Jess kind of wants to hear that sound again. They use their teeth to pull on Lupe's nipple, and that high pitch in Lupe's voice they’ve rarely ever heard. It sends a bolt of arousal to Jess’s cunt, and they have to see her face.

Lupe's looking at them too, with some kind of shock on her face, like she wasn’t expecting it to feel as good either. God, she is so hot, with her features spelling nothing but sheer enjoyment. Jess has an idea they must look much the same.

And the way they both lean in for a frantic kiss is exhilarating. It amps up the heat, it makes Jess bolder. Their free hand moves down to cup Lupe's cunt above her boxers, and the damp patch they feel is almost too much to handle. Just as is Lupe grinding on their fingers, humming into the kiss as she does.

Lupe wants a boring position? Jess breaks the kiss, grabs her by the waist and throws her on the bed. Lupe humpfs in surprise, then laughs as Jess crawls on top of her. They really are on a bed, over the sheets, in plain sight, and the world hasn't ended. 

Yet. Ufos could always fly by and take them.

Jess laughs at their own thoughts, shoving them away. They're not going to tempt the universe to manifest that. All that matters is Lupe, almost fully naked underneath them, and what they're going to do about it.

She’s smiling up at them. A different kind of grin from before that is equal part arousal and something else. That same look she’s seen on Lupe's face through the years, whenever Jess would do something that surprises her. Endears her. It was one of the main reasons for Jess's prolonged delusion—the fact that maybe that look did hide the same spark Jess has carried in their heart for so long.

It turns out they weren’t that delusional. 

Jess, propped up on their forearms, hovers over Lupe and her smile, and that pause has Lupe look from their lips to their eyes. Jess's stomach churns as their eyes meet, as the emotion in Lupe's grows by the sheer reflection of it in Jess's own. For how different, they match. And it's like time slows down, as their breaths deepen, falling in sync, and their lips move towards each other much more slowly, savoring it. Jess can feel each second, the first brush of their mouths, as well as the second, and third, going from feather-light to drawn-out, more insistent, pressing, until their lips part and their tongues perform the same dance.

Lupe groans impatiently again, then, as her hands snake around their waist and pull them closer. With another chuckle, Jess obliges her, pressing themself against her like a wave, in a spiraling motion that ends with their hips meeting Lupe's and a gasp escaping Lupe's lips as Jess rubs their cock against her through her boxers. When they do it again, her teeth dig into her bottom lip to bite back a moan.

“Don’t,” Jess says, their voice now much rougher, “no need to be quiet. I wanna hear you.”

Lupe opens her eyes as Jess grinds down on her cunt again, so that they see it when they glaze over, and when Lupe's teeth release the lip to finally let that sound out.

They want more of that. They feel like a scientist, pressing a button. But they’re really just a lover, pressing a clit, and shivering themself when Lupe's next moan is even louder, and her head cranes back as her hips rise up to meet Jess's.

Jess's heart is thumping in their ears. They feel flushed all over, hot as if they’ll never be cold again. Their mouth falls back on Lupe’s skin, kissing her chest, sucking on her tit again, then the other, while their hand reaches the waistband of Lupe’s boxers, “Can I—?”

“God, please,” Lupe sighs, a dreamy, needy sound that Jess won't likely ever forget. As well as how she tugs at their shirt, “And can you—?”

Jess smiles. I just want to feel your skin, they remember. That is also something they won’t easily forget, the knowledge that Lupe wants to feel them as close as she possibly can.

They lean back on their heels to take their shirt off, while Lupe scoots farther up the bed, and then they're both pulling her boxers down her legs, half way each. Talking of team effort. Jess throws them behind them at the end, still unable to keep their fucking fond smile from their face. It's a bit weird hearing no jokes at all from Lupe, but as they could easily be cutting the sexual tension in the air with a knife, they don’t blame her. For plopping her head on the pillow, and spreading her legs wider.

Jess, however, cannot resist teasing her a little. They lower themself back down, inhaling the rich smell of her, and press a quick kiss on her inner thigh, “I may just be turning you into a pillow princess.”

Lupe's groan is not of that same pleased quality as before, “Oh, fuck off, and just—” she uses her foot to nudge Jess's shoulder closer, and doesn't finish the sentence.

Another thing that the little creature likes very much. The fact that Lupe's just too turned on to have any good comebacks.

Jess can’t not put her out of her misery, “You’ve got it, baby.”

Lupe makes another sound, between a complaint at the pet name and a clear enjoyment of it. It's a fine line, and Jess is starting to distinguish it more and more. As they press another kiss farther up her thigh, when there is already considerable wetness, and she shivers, they’ve got a pretty good idea which side is it favoring.

It's not like Jess is faring any better. Like drawing it out isn’t for their own benefit as well. Just as with their kiss, they want to savor each second, each brush of their lips on Lupe's tender, damp skin, each note of her taste on their tongue. For science.

“Yeah, baby,” Lupe sighs, tangling her fingers in their hair when they reach their outer labia.

Jess's answering moan gets pressed into Lupe's clit, as their lips wrap around it. Lupe is much louder than them, though, and she doesn't hold herself back anymore, which Jess is already gone for. Lupe was right, a good ol’ position on a bed is exactly what they’ve been missing, and Jess has the sudden thought that in two days' time, around a table with the entire cast, their ex and Lupe, it’ll be hard not to be remembering this exact moment.

“Fuck, Jess,” Lupe pants, her fingers digging harder into their braid, as her legs tremble on either side of Jess's head when they start licking her in earnest, “shit, damn, come over here.”

Jess sucks on her clit one more second, then pulls away, looking up at her in question. Lupe's whole face is flushed, her chest is rising and falling rapidly, and her eyes tell them everything they need to know.

They still take their time tracing their path up to her, so that when she reaches her lips her face is even more blissed out. Jess's fingers are twirling her nipple playfully, and she grins at them so damn fondly. She looks so damn relaxed, even in tension before release, that Jess’s heart squeezed tight. If any of this will mean anything at all beyond this show, be it at least that they did do their best to show Lupe what she deserves. How she deserves to be treated, and to feel.

Jess kisses her softly on the lips, and Lupe sighs into it. Jess smiles, “You sure you want this? I know it's not usually what—”

Lupe shuts them up with another kiss, still a soft one, far softer than they would’ve ever expected from her, even in their dreams. “McCready,” she whispers, then smiles a bit crookedly, “Jess. Just fuck me.” Another peck, then a bigger grin, “Show me what you’ve got.”

Compared to their kiss in the park, she says it in a whole other tone, not hot and demanding, but easy and fun, with that same hint of vulnerability they've gotten other glimpses of. Again, something so contrasting the way they’ve known her all these years, like this is a gift she’s choosing to give them and them alone. Herself, in cursive and not in bold.

Jess wants to give her everything she deserves. Be the one who shows it to her every single day, for the rest of—

They kiss her, in neither cursive nor bold, but as straightforward as Jess knows how to be. Partially to shut up their own inconvenient thoughts, but mostly because their emotions would spill out of them in even more inconvenient ways otherwise. Better to let their body speak, like the hand that Jess sneaks down to touch Lupe's clit again, which has an immediate effect on her, judging by Lupe's moan Jess swallows in their mouth. I’ll show you, don't you worry, they spell out with every brush of their fingers.

Lupe's hand sneaks down too, to grab the strap and guide it towards herself, and Jess would stall a little more, ask her if she's sure again, but the desire that they read on Lupe's face, feel in the way her legs pull them closer and her hips press into their touch, suddenly drives them too wild to do anything else but meet it in stride. So following Lupe's guidance, Jess lines up their cock with her cunt, and slides it in, slowly, gently, their eyes focused on Lupe's reaction. Lupe's eyes seem to be battling to stay open, to watch it happen too, but they barely look focused at all. And what starts as a sigh of pleasure, soon turns into a long moan as the strap gets in all the way.

Jess can’t not kiss her again, their own clit throbbing into their harness. Lupe wraps an arm around their shoulders, while her other hand moves to the base of Jess's spine, spurring them on, and that’s when Jess starts to move experimentally. They want to stay attuned to Lupe's every response, and make this good for her. Something memorable that, hopefully, she’ll still be thinking of when she’s in bed with Veronica in a few days’ time.

Jess knows that this is their jealousy talking, but they can’t help being a little petty. It's only a fraction of what’s driving them right now anyway. The rest is just their desire for Lupe, and they don't know whether there's much space for anything else in them, including their desire for their actual girlfriend, Emma, which—no, that thought is not allowed in here. Not one fucking bit.

Not as they're fucking Lupe, and Lupe keeps being more vocal just as they asked her to be—hopefully the rooms next to theirs are empty at this hour, or poor sods—as Jess finds a pace Lupe seems to like, that has Lupe groan each time their cock hits her g-spot. Lupe's hand is now squeezing Jess’s ass at every thrust, and their lips keep meeting only to part as Lupe moans again and Jess mouths at Lupe's neck to feel the vibration of them too. Their own body, pooling with sweat, sliding against Lupe's, is a buzz of pleasure and sensations that are too much to name.

They never want this moment to end, like this hotel room is a bubble frozen in time and they can take all the moments they want, until they're truly sated. Which would not happen for much, much more time if it were up to Jess.

Lupe's groans are turning more frustrated, and Jess can tell she's wanting more, needing something different. They follow her lead again, the way her body presses on theirs until they flip around. Jess takes a few deep breaths as Lupe settles on top of them, bracing herself on Jess's stomach right as she lowers down on Jess’s cock again. Their eyes stay locked on each other again as it happens, even more intensely than before.

“Fuck, McCready,” Lupe grits out, as the slide is slicker now too. 

Jess bites hard on their own lips, as they place their hands on Lupe's hips, “Yes, come on, Lu.”

Lupe breathes out another fuck as she rises up, then back down on the cock, then another as she does it again, and again, until the word turns into a chain of uh sounds one after the other. The pace she sets is both faster and louder, and it ricochets up Jess's cunt every time, just shy of creating the right friction to make them come too. But that's not their focus now. All they care about is Lupe, watching and feeling her take all she deserves for herself for once.

“Yeah, yes, baby,” Jess mutters, “take all you need.”

Lupe's next groan is rougher, longer, then her pace has a hitch, and she slows down a little, her eyes scrunched close, her mouth red under her teeth. Jess keeps caressing her legs, up her stomach, her tits, seeing her skin glisten with sweat and ripple with goosebumps. Yet now the tension feels a little tilted, like there are wonky layers underneath, even if Lupe looks like she’s still enjoying it.

“You—you okay?” Jess asks, softly, as they don’t want to spook her. “If it's too much, we can sto—”

“No,” Lupe bends down to kiss them, breathless, “no, I want you.”

Jess hums into the kiss. They may never tire hearing her say that. Yet there’s still something off, they can’t quite put a finger on what. When Lupe straightens back up and lowers herself back on the strap with a breathy moan, Jess observes her more closely. Where the tension is sitting in her body. After years of being her physiotherapist, they’ve got a good eye for that.

And at this point, they're pretty confident too at taking good guesses as to why, “Are you… embarrassed that you want me like this? You think this makes you less butch?” 

Lupe looks down at them in surprise, and her movements stop altogether, as she rises up from the strap. Her face makes a few complicated expressions, until it settles on some kind of grimace, as she sighs, “I just know what Veronica would say about this,” she shakes her head, closing her eyes, “and nothing nice.”

Jess takes a sobering breath, before they sit up to take, tentatively, Lupe into their arms. But Lupe is quick to wrap her arms around their shoulders and bury her face into their neck. Jess sighs in relief that she’s not pulling away, as they know how much it must've cost her to admit that. They slowly caress her back, “She has no say in who you are, or in what you like, Lu. She never has.”

Lupe makes a small nod into their neck, but her tension doesn't ease. Jess waits, keeping up the gentle touch, until Lupe does raise her head to look at them. Her face still looks complicated, “Do you see me as feminine now? Have I lost all credibility?” She scoffs, but there's a hitch in that too.

But Jess just smiles at that, taking her face in their hands, “I see you as I’ve always seen you, Lu. You’re my brother. Who I also find hot.” They shrug, and Lupe huffs a laugh, but Jess continues, as a concerning thought suddenly appears in their mind, “I don’t know what that makes us, but, I mean—I’m not even a girl. Do you see me as a girl now?”

If this is the reason why Lupe is attracted to them—the fact that she may not, after all, see their gender as valid unlike what she previously said—then that would change things between them far more than everything else that has happened in the past weeks. Because some trust would fall there, especially after how Lupe had been their lifeline in that whole gender crisis.

But all Lupe does is huff another, bigger laugh and say, “God, no.”

Jess sucks on the insides on their cheeks, “You sure? Doesn't it bother you then? You’ve always just been with girls.”

“Uhm, not really,” Lupe makes a face at them, like you should know this.

Jess rolls their eyes, “I mean, and enjoyed it.”

“Well,” Lupe shrugs, “then I may be broadening my horizons. Who knew? That I needed a nonbinary dick all along. Don’t tell my mother.”

Jess—despite the still stubborn knot in their chest at this suddenly complicated conversation, which they're at least glad they're having in private—bursts out laughing, holding onto Lupe a little tighter, “Don’t worry, the only thing I'd tell her is to go fuck herself.”

Lupe raises her eyebrows, “Don’t threaten her with a good time. She may have a heart attack.”

They both burst out laughing at that. Just the thought of Francisca García engaging in sinful behavior may be too much for society as a whole to handle.

“Jess,” Lupe says then, sobering up, her hands still wrapped loosely around Jess's shoulders, “the truth is that I don’t care about your gender, or mine, or whatever. I just care that you're you, and that I’m me, and that it shouldn't have to be so fucking weird for us to want each other.”

And Jess opens up in a smile, “I don’t think it’s weird, and if somebody else does, then that’s their fucking problem.”

A corner of Lupe's mouth quirks up in acknowledgment, and Jess does feel her already so much more relaxed. Still, not quite enough.

“Plus,” Jess dares peck her lips in a kiss that turns out a little longer than intended, as Lupe holds them in place. That has them smiling again as they pull away, and speak in a lower tone as they say, “I also think that anybody, regardless of their fucking gender, deserves to be fucked exactly as they want to and not be shamed for it.”

Lupe bites her lips at that, humming low in her throat, and there's the heat back in her eyes, “Amen to that, hermano.”

Jess's smile widens, and they hold her a little closer still, until Lupe nuzzles her face into their neck again, and sighs into it. Jess brushes their lips against her sweaty temple, and releases their own tension too.

“So you don’t want me to femme up or something?” Lupe asks, small, a quiet mumble into skin.

Jess shakes their head, their fingers now threading lightly into the hair at Lupe's nape, “I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do. Or be anybody but yourself.” A beat. Then quieter, “I quite like you as you are, you know.” Quite obviously the understatement of the year, and yet Jess's face warms up, their heart starts beating faster in their chest, something that surely Lupe must feel in the pulse at their neck.

And she does in fact say, as a tease, but not entirely, like maybe she is really realizing it for the first time, even after all the moments they've had recently, “You do like me, uh?”

And Jess has to close their eyes for a second, as the awareness they’ve been pushing away, of in how much fucking trouble they are, closes in on their consciousness. All they can do to keep it at bay is deflect it, “You like me too.”

“Well,” Lupe glances down at their bodies, and Jess can't help but follow her gaze. Yep. They are still naked, and actively hooking up. But this awareness is a much more welcome one, and they both chuckle under their breath. “It's not like I can hide it at this point,” Lupe adds, in a rougher whisper, raising her head again, much closer to Jess’s now.

Like this, they can see all the details of her face. The marks of time and life. Many they’ve studied, covertly, before, but only now can they take them all in, and linger. Jess does recall in striking detail all the years they have hidden their feelings for her. Kept them close to their chest, locked in the basement of their mind, just to keep Lupe in their life. And themself sane.

Now? “Me neither,” they say.

They see the bobble of Lupe’s throat as she swallows, can almost read the calculations in her mind, before she brings her hand to cup the back of Jess's neck. Like she needs to feel them, solid and warm, to believe they are really here. With her.

Jess can understand her. They take a breath, and Lupe does too, then their lips are meeting. Just softly. Unhurriedly. A sealing of their words, the statements that are now out in their world. They like like each other, and it's as easy and complicated as that. I can see myself choosing you, Lupe had said, and for how much Jess doesn't want to hold on to hope, or to stake their whole life on that, on any of this, if they don’t want to just hand their heart for Lupe to break, they still will likely carry the torch of it.

They put more of themself into the kiss then, adding a bite to it, a slip of their tongue, a lingering press. Lupe makes a noise of appreciation, and opens her mouth wider to them, her breathing coming out harsher. Gravity aids them then, surprisingly gently, so that Jess's back lands on the mattress again, as their kiss deepens. Jess, their hands exploring the expanse of Lupe’s back, is glad to just be enjoying this moment, yet they can’t help but groan as Lupe's cunt presses on their hip bone, smearing her wetness on it.

Lupe breaks the kiss, and her mouth is hot on Jess’s neck, it stings as it sucks on Jess’s skin, the sweetest pain of all that has Jess lean into it, clasping the nape of Lupe’s neck to hold her there, so that she can mark them properly. Leave a tangible trace of the incontrovertible truth of Lupe liking them.

That, plus Lupe rubbing herself on them, slow, but hard, revealing the state of her desire, draws Jess back right into where they left off. Fired up, they grab Lupe's hips to help her movements, and whisper gruffly into her ear, “Do you want to come?”

Lupe huffs into her skin, “What do you think?”, and she bites her lips as she speeds up, even if that doesn’t stifle her groans at all.

Jess grins, her hands kneading into Lupe's ass for an indulgent moment, and then they flip them around in a smooth enough roll, kneeling over Lupe, between her legs, to look into her eyes, “And do you—?”

“Yeah,” Lupe cuts in with a chuckle, drawing their face down for a kiss. A sweet, long one, after which Jess rests their forehead against Lupe's.

As they both take deep breaths, eyes closed, in the calm before the storm, in more ways than one, Jess's arms feel suddenly weaker. Their whole body does, trembling with a tension that isn’t really physical. It's like the arm's length that Jess has been keeping between them and Lupe, between their own heart and hers, is pulling taut. And it may snap any minute, if they don’t—

Jess opens their eyes right as Lupe does, and a trail of shivers does travel down Jess's back as something like a spark passes in the space between them. Too quickly to decipher it, but strong enough to be felt, and it can’t just be them, because Lupe surges up to kiss them right as they lean down, and they're locked in. In the moment, the energy, the need in their bodies and whatever the fuck that was. In all layers of each other, all at once.

Lupe helps them guide the strap in again, and the road is smooth sailing after that. All of Jess’s thoughts fall to the back burner as they devour Lupe's skin, her neck, her mouth, her tits, as she gets louder and louder again as they fuck her exactly like she wants to be fucked in this moment, and that’s her prerogative. Lupe's legs bend farther up, until Jess can put them on their shoulders, and that’s when Lupe fully lets go. As soon as Jess's thumb starts rubbing her clit, she comes so strongly that Jess notices tears pool up at the corner of her eyes. Which they kiss away, peppering kisses over her face as they keep following her movements to let her take as much as she wants. 

Which is a lot, and Jess has to groan with her as she guides them in again to ride the aftershocks right into a second orgasm. They know by now Lupe rarely comes just once, it’s like the more she comes the more it switches her on and she keeps needing to come even more. They haven't really been able to test the edge of her limits, reaching the point of utter exertion where she truly can't go on anymore, and they can’t really do it now either, as the clock of their reservation is ticking, so all they can do is hold her tight as she comes down from her high, wishing to imprint the feel of her like this into their skin. In case this is… the end. And they’ll never get to have her in their own bed, for as long as they both want, without any limit at all. A thought that fills their stomach with dread.

Fuck.

“Fuck,” Lupe says, in a whole other tone, blinking her eyes open, a dopey, tired smile on her face. Which Jess has to kiss, a little deeper than intended, as they prefer to have no thoughts and prolong this moment.

Lupe hums appreciatively into it, until her hands sneak down to the waistband of Jess's boxers-harness, and she breaks the kiss to smirk, “Do you want to come?”

Jess is suddenly desperate to. They hum their assent into Lupe's lips, and they help her out by taking the strap away as she pulls down the boxers. Far too slowly. Jess takes that over too, sliding them down their legs, as Lupe laughs, but they can’t be bothered by that. Their single-mindedness has them not even smiling, but just shutting Lupe's laugh with their lips as they finally straddle her thigh, and lower themself on it.

The jolt of pleasure it sends them is immediately intense, and it's heightened by Lupe's reaction to the state of their arousal, “Christ. Jess, you—” 

They know. They capture her lips with their own again, and fucks themself on Lupe's thigh, scraping their own ache raw. Yet it's still not enough, they need so much more of this, of Lupe, of time, of chances, and they don't know how—

“What do you need?” Lupe catches on to the tells in their body, “How do you want to be fucked, Jess?”

Jess halts. They’re bracing themself on their hands on both sides of Lupe’s head, and stare at her, their mouth agape. What do they want? What could possibly ease this impossible ache? What could stitch together the ugly, needy truth of their gaping desire for her?

Jess can’t hold Lupe’s waiting, piercing gaze, so they hide their face into the juncture of her neck, as an answer floods out of them, “Can I,” they lick the sweat of her skin to not think about the rawness of their own voice, “sit on your face?”

They wait, their own burning face squashed into the salt and smell of her. Until Lupe's hand grips their mess of a braid and pulls it up, which already has Jess letting out an embarrassingly high-pitched moan. Lupe's gaze has the same intense quality of before, only now there is what can only be described as hunger added to the mix, “I thought you'd never ask, McCready.”

Fucking hell. Jess kisses her, and the swirl of her tongue into their mouth makes them twitch and grind on her thigh some more, a gush of wetness coming right out of their cunt to express its enthusiasm and impatience. It's a greedy one.

So is Lupe. “Come on,” she gives a playful slap to Jess's ass that takes them by surprise, and the gasp they let out gets turned into a moan by Lupe's next words, “I want you in my mouth.”

"Goddamnit, Lu,” Jess hisses, kissing the smirk on Lupe's lips just one more moment before they’re crawling up her body, desperate to have her mouth on them.

Just the sight of Lupe’s face between, below, their legs is enough to set them off. They need to hold on the bed frame, then, if they hope to keep it together. And avert their gaze, raising it up, their teeth buried helplessly into their lower lip, as just the last flash of Lupe licking her lips right before they lower themself on her mouth is too much.

Not that there’s any way to avoid the feeling of her lips on their cunt, of her tongue flicking their clit. They don't want to avoid it at all, though. The opposite of it. They lean into it, until their legs are straining to keep up with the grind of their hips. Lupe's hands are gripping their thighs almost painfully, while her mouth is relentless, encouraging them to take all they need, just as they’d done for her.

And Jess can't refuse. They can’t remember another time they've been eaten out so thoroughly. Nor another time they've craved it so badly, and have let themself be as loud about it. 

So much so that a bang can be heard from the other side of the wall, along with a muffled male voice, “Oi, can you keep it down?!”

“No!” Jess answers with no hesitation, banging the wall back—but more in response to Lupe sucking on their clit a little harder than to this asshole, “So fuck off!”

The direct answer must've taken him aback, because he does fuck off, and the next thing Jess is shouting is “Yes, fuck!” as Lupe barely has a laugh about the whole exchange and starts licking her clit again, right where it makes Jess's toes curl.

“God, shit, fuck, right the—” 

Lupe slaps their ass again, humming an encouragement into their cunt, and that’s when Jess lets go, fucking Lupe's face even harder than they'd imagined doing in some of their past dreams. A particular one not that long ago, before their whole proposal fail, when things with Emma were still not that bad and she did let them ride her face when they woke up wet and wanting.

It didn’t feel like this though. They still couldn’t let themself go as much as they're doing now, shouting at the top of their lungs as they come and Lupe doesn't push them away as their hips chase the very last wave of their orgasm.

Maybe it is that their reality does look much closer to the stuff of dreams. Jess is not a big dreamer, never has, they've always preferred to feel it all in their body, get their hands dirty into their life.

But if dreams can come true, then… sign them up. As they slide back down Lupe’s body and collapse on top of her, licking their own cum into her mouth, then laying their face on her chest, Jess can't fucking deny it to themself anymore. They wanted to help Lupe by asking her to do the trial together, but all they’ve done is play themself.

Jess drifts off to sleep, sluggish and spent, between contentment and a sudden sense of dread. When they wake up an indefinite amount of time later, still in Lupe's arms, they feel more stable in their skin, though. Lupe is threading her fingers through their hair, leaving lingering kisses on the top of their head, caressing their back and shoulders, and Jess lets out a sigh that is just content. They press their own kisses to Lupe's chest, to the softest part of her tit, her perked up nipple, and Lupe is the one to let out a sigh so that their bodies melt even more into each other.

Jess would never move again. But—the lump in their throat tells them they need to see her. Jess looks up at Lupe then, and the soft smile they find on her face hits them harder than they'd like to admit. They’ve known Lupe to be soft, they’ve experienced her be it towards them, from time to time. But never to this extent. To this length. This has been the biggest gift of these weeks, being privy to the most intimate parts of Lupe, as if Jess has a part in them. They belong under the soft underbelly of Lupe’s tough guy façade, or between the all-encompassing warmth of her embrace without any layers of just-friendship or clothes between them.

Jess reaches a hand to brush their thumb across Lupe's cheek, and when Lupe takes their hand, closing her eyes as if trying to fully bask into the moment, the quiet intimacy, Jess swallows their lump. And bend down to brush their lips against hers too.

It may be the smallest, tamest kiss they've had besides their very first one on the couch, but the whimper that wants to come out of Jess's throat isn’t at all. To distance themself from it, and from Lupe, in anticipation of their time ending, and they don’t mean just in the room, they part from her lips and slide off Lupe's body.

They don’t go far. They'd be incapable to. They simply go through the currently hard motions of slipping under the covers, which Lupe follows with a groan, her eyes still closed, then they curl up on their side, nestling their face into the crook of Lupe’s neck again, partly hidden by her hair. Breathing her in. They already would've recognized her scent anywhere, but now it's forever branded into their nostrils. Another haven they’ll have to let go of soon.

Too soon. Lupe turns on her side too, facing them, which is an interesting choice, as she usually likes spooning. Or maybe she wants Jess to turn around and be the little spoon. Jess starts the movement, but Lupe’s hand on their shoulder stops them. So Jess watches her, silently, as she scoots even closer, tangles their legs under the blanket—the insides of their wet thighs meeting in a slick slide—and moves her arm to their back, actively cocooning them into her arms. Jess can’t not do the same, so they snake their arm around Lupe's waist, and pull her closer still. Lastly, their foreheads find each other into the space they've created. Just the two of them.

They breathe, just breathe. What reason is there to do anything else? Jess’s eyes droop closed too, nestled into the privilege of being in Lupe's arms.

Until Lupe's thumb brushes against their cheek, like they'd done to her earlier. The touch feels too deliberate to not be a call for attention, and sure enough Lupe's eyes are wide open, boring into Jess’s as they open them too. There are many things swirling in Lupe's gaze, just like Jess knows there must be in their own, and there's nothing he'd like to do more than whisk them all away. This tangle they’ve ended up in due to their own actions, and inactions.

“Thanks,” Lupe says instead, hinting a sheepish smile, bringing them back to this moment.

And Jess can’t help but smile too, feeling a new rush of warmth reach their face, “No, thank you.”

“Hm. That hit a spot?” and Lupe can't help but tease, biting on a much smugger smile.

But this is still such a different, softer tease than usual, said in Lupe's lower register, now even scratchier after their recreational activities, that Jess can only answer with naked honesty, “Yeah.”

And Lupe's face drops all bravado, until all that’s left is such a fondness that travels under Jess's skin, making a home in it. It all happens in the blink of an eye, and then Lupe is pressing a lingering kiss on Jess’s shoulder, as if she’d like to seal it there themself.

Jess lets out a shakier breath, their heart responding to the touch with an immediate flutter. God, Lu. Stop taking me off guard.

“For me too,” Lupe says, a whispered admission that tickles Jess's skin, “everything. Especially the—the privacy. This may be the best idea you’ve ever had.”

Jess closes their eyes for another second, in which they think the contrary. Maybe this was too much. Too damning. They've crossed so many other lines, and they don't mean just in sex. After an uninterrupted, unwitnessed time with Lupe, they feel ever closer to the finish line, namely home. Their real home.

But they can’t really regret it. So they don't want to spoil it by bringing their insecurities up, which may lead them to begging Lupe for that very reassurance they told her they can’t give her. For the promise that they both will choose each other no matter what happens in the next three weeks with their girlfriends.

No, they can’t do this. Can’t demand this of either of them. They know, they know it, and yet—

“Jess,” Lupe says, and that makes Jess freeze. The seriousness in her tone. Jess swallows harder, their heart now positively galloping as Lupe raises her head from their shoulder and lays it on the pillow again, staring right into their eyes, “Can we play a game?”

Jess blinks, surprised. There is a tremble, a fragility in Lupe's voice, and on her face, as she asks that. Jess knows it can’t be a fun game. More like one of those life and death ones. Jess quirks an eyebrow up in question.

Lupe lets out a long exhale, “Help me walk through… a couple scenarios.”

Oh. Oh. This is it. This may be what they’ll be able to hold on to during their next trial marriage. 

Not that it doesn’t still feel scary, spelling it out… hypothetically. Yet, it’s a lifeline Jess suddenly needs to have as much as they can see Lupe does, “O…kay. Shoot.”

Trying for levity does not make a dent in the tight look on Lupe's face, “What if… we choose our girlfriends, but they tell us we can’t see each other again if we want to be with them? Or that we seriously need to limit how much we see each other?”

This one’s easy, “No.” Lupe's expectant expression doesn't change, it even intensifies, so Jess clarifies, “Not happening. I wouldn’t accept… these terms. Wouldn’t be with her. Or, anybody who tries to control my life and who I'm friends with, for that matter.”

Lupe studies their face closely for another long moment. Jess would like to take hers into their hand, allow her to relax into the touch, the certainty that Jess is not going anywhere. Which is the one certainty Jess will always have.

“We may, though,” Jess amends, because if Lupe wants the full truth, then they'll give it to her, “have to be less… close. No more cuddling and shit.”

Lupe closes her eyes for a second, nodding, humming pensively. When she opens them again, there is a raging fire in them, “Would you hate me if I choose Veronica and you don’t choose Emma?”

That is a question. Whose answer is still easy, “No. I could never hate you, Lu.” But also complicated. Jess's insides are already churning at the mere thought, “But I wouldn't,” their mouth feels pasty, “enjoy it. I may need… a second.” To get over you again.

Lupe nods again, faster, like her thoughts are starting to race into her mind, “How long would you need?”

And Jess laughs, pinching their nose with their fingers, “Lu, you think I have all the answers? I don’t fucking know. But I told you you wouldn’t lose me, and I mean it.”

Both their breathing has gotten harsher, their bodies tenser against each other, and Jess thanks again the fact that they’re having this conversation alone. It's already hard enough.

“I know,” Lupe says, “I'm sorry, I just,” her hold tightens on Jess’s back, her palm pressed firmly against where their heart is beating frantically, and Jess shivers at the gesture, at the possessiveness they feel in it for how Lupe may deny it, “what if we do choose… each other?”

Jess's breath halts in their throat. They study Lupe's face more closely now, trying to understand what she really needs, what she’s trying to get at from all of this, when she must know that there can’t be any certainty in any scenario. Does she just want to see a vision, a picture for her life that she had never allowed herself to think of before? And isn’t that the very thing Jess wanted to help her with?

Yeah. Now, though, the stakes are higher. Jess has put their own stakes in it, like a fucking idiot, and that makes doing their job much harder.

Lupe's hand caressing her back makes them focus on her again. Lupe's face has turned sadder, even more insecure, and her voice is barely audible, “What would we do then, Jess?”

That’s more confusing of a question. Because that seems like the most easy answer, “Uhm, be… together?”

“Yeah, but like,” Lupe looks away, and Jess notices it now, the flush rising up from her chest, “what does that look like? Where do we live? We both live with our girlfriends now, we'd have to change places and—”

Christ, she is really thinking about it. Or, rambling, like at the dinner with Jess's parents, rolling away like a steam train.

Jess finally takes her face in their hand, and turns it back to themself, “I think we can figure out our living situation, if the issue presents itself, Lu.” What is this really about? they don't ask, but wait.

Lupe holds their gaze, then they avert it again. She’s getting truly flustered, the way she’s trying to school her expression into neutral isn’t working, so that Jess has to bite back their own smile too. Suddenly they become hyper aware of Lupe’s furnace of a body, tangled with theirs, and Lupe seems to do it too. Her hand starts traveling on the plains of Jess's side, feather-light, then firm, squeezing, owning, wanting.

Jess can’t hold back the hum in their throat, and they scoot even closer, their own mind a whirlwind, crazy with assumptions they really shouldn’t make, “Are you thinking of U-hauling with me, García?”

Lupe laughs, pressing her face into Jess’s chest, her voice muffled as she says, “It wouldn't be that big of a stretch. Seven years, McCready.

“Yeah, seven years of a very platonic, casual friendship.”

Lupe scoffs, leaning on their chest harder, against which Jess has to put up resistance, so that it’s not dissimilar to some of their wrestling matches, “Not casual.”

Jess cheats, they're not above that—they grab Lupe’s hair and pull her head back, to be able to give her a kiss that’s not casual at all. They put their whole into it, wanting her to remember it, the way she groans into it, sighing as Jess nibbles on her lips and then parts them with their tongue. The way her hips grind against their thigh, like an unconscious, inevitable reaction to their kiss. Jess's hand travels down, to grab Lupe's ass, squeeze it tight with that same possessiveness Lupe showed them. At the very least, to be able to have ownership of this moment with her, if nothing else.

Lupe doesn't quip, doesn't have any clever come back as they break the kiss and catch their breaths. Jess doesn't either. The hug they both fold into is a much needed respite, then. Saying everything and nothing at once, of their straining against chains that they’ve put on themselves, and now can’t so easily get rid of.

“We can—could,” Jess has to say it, has to paint more of the picture that they’ll be hanging in their mind, “take it slow. We don’t owe any marriage to anybody.”

“I do,” Lupe sighs into their neck, “owe you a date, after all. A real one.”

Starting to date, after all this, seems ironic, makes the choice more trivial, like—are you going to marry your long-time girlfriend, or date your long-time friend? Yet that’s what it is.

“You do,” Jess agrees, right into her ear.

And Lupe, for some reason, laughs, “God, what would the team say?”

That’s the least of Jess's concerns, “Come on, after my folks don’t you think they also suspect something?” They chuckle too, not able to resist leaving a kiss on Lupe's head, “Don’t they always tease us for being work wives?”

Lupe huffs, “Yes, but,” she blinks up at Jess, still a little flustered. Then something seems to dawn on her, “Did you ever tell any of them about your… feelings?”

Jess grimaces, “No, but—” they get flashes of a few key moments with their friends, their teammates—Ana giving them their mostly-full drink as Lupe made out with Veronica in the corner of the bar their first outing all together, Maybelle's touches of comforts at random moments for weeks on end, Shirley voicing her skepticism for Jess's new relationship I don’t feel that’s a rational decision from you right now, and Esti being so angry at Lupe for her choice of girlfriend for months, “I think there was some unspoken support when you got with Veronica.”

Lupe hums, her gaze faraway, surely lost in her own memories. A corner of her mouth twitches in a half-frown, “Esti would kill me if we got together.”

That is not a conclusion Jess would’ve ever gotten to, “What? Why do you think that?”

“You know,” Lupe shrugs, as her gaze is now fixed on her own finger tracing Jess's collarbone, “she gets super protective of you.”

“Well,” Jess takes Lupe’s hand, and brings it to their lips, “that’s why she would be happy about it.”

Lupe frowns harder, “De…batable.”

Jess grins knowingly.

Lupe looks at them like she's awaiting an answer. When Jess only shrugs, though, she says with a sigh, “Not debating me right now?”

“No,” Jess interlocks their fingers together, “Lu, I trust you, okay? Whatever decision you make, it'll be the right one for you. So can you trust me too?”

Lupe's breath halts in her throat, then releases all at once, “I'd trust you with my life, hermano.”

Jess looks at her in surprise. That's barely a joke. It sounds far closer to the truth. “Then come here.”

Lupe eyes the almost non-existent space between them in amusement, “Where? We can't possibly get any closer than this.”

Jess rolls their eyes, “Where's your spirit, García? We sure can.”

Lupe chuckles, a sound that tells Jess a lot, like that she’s done overthinking scenarios for now, as it’s a moot point in the end. The only certainty they have is the long-time, long-cherished bond they have with each other. And that has to be enough.

Lupe does turn around, so she wants to be the little spoon after all. Jess is more than happy to oblige, and holds her as close as they can as they both drift off to sleep some more.

Later—cutting their time hella close—after taking a shower and slipping back into their clothes—Lupe eyes them slyly as Jess re-fastens the cleaned-up strap to their leg before pulling up their pants, which earns her an open-mouthed kiss and a press of their thigh between her legs—they walk out of the hotel hand in hand, thankfully not hearing or seeing anything of the asshole next door. They do both wave at the nosey desk clerk, and Jess bites back a grin as they catch them swiftly curl their nose in judgment. They shouldn’t work at a place like this with that attitude.

As they get home, they unwind. Age has truly mellowed them compared to their early days of friendship, when they used to go out most weekends, and get fairly drunk. And often laid.

Now, they’ve still gotten laid, most of the afternoon at that, but with each other. And that very fact changes everything, like in the way they curl up on their couch like molten candle wax, with just a beer and a few cigarettes, not talking much, they’ve done enough of that, but simply letting themselves be.

Their last full day together is just as slow, quiet if not for anything trivial and funny, and indulgent. Bev does ask them to ask each other some parting questions, so they sit on the balcony and have a watered-down version of the conversation they had in the hotel room about future scenarios. No matter what, they'd figure it out. Their gaze stays locked with Lupe's as they say it, daring her to stay steady, keep her head about herself when dealing with a certain someone.

And they do fuck under the sheets, later, in the stillness of their last night—nothing comparable to the freedom and abandon and closeness of the hotel room, but they try anyway. Jess can taste the unspoken regret of having to part into Lupe's lips, into her stifled moans as she grinds up frantically into their hand, can feel it into the flared-up buzz under their own skin as they press themself harder into her.

It can’t be spoken of now, though. Filling time with more words they’ve already said, thoughts they’ve already had, would be a waste, when they can rather use it to mark the proof of all the possibilities they’ve experienced together into each other’s skin. It's happened, it has existed, and they won’t ever be able to deny it.

Whatever they do with this knowledge, though, it’s up for grabs. Jess does fear their own choice as much as Lupe's, as the prospect of breaking their girlfriend’s heart is not a welcome one. They'd be doing to Emma what Lupe did to them, multipled by three goddamn years of an actual relationship, and in front of an audience, for fuck’s sake. They hadn’t signed up for that.

Chapter Text

Lupe buttons up her shirt in front of the bathroom mirror, and barely recognizes herself. It shouldn't be possible to have changed so much in just a couple of weeks. Maybe not so much physically, as the marks trailing her collarbone, the sides of her tits, her stomach, aren't that different from the frequent mementos she gets from her times with Veronica. Yet, just knowing that it wasn’t her, but Jess who—

Yeah, besides the physical ones, Jess has left a mark inside her. Into her thoughts, her memories, her dreams, her desires. They’ve filled the space Lupe granted them with as much as they could, without holding back. And now Lupe is… torn. To say the least. Already being pulled in two different directions as she gets ready to meet the cast, and see Veronica again, even as she stands right where her metamorphosis started by Jess’s mouth, hands, body...

She steps out of the bathroom, as she can’t stand to keep looking at herself nor anywhere else in this well-loved space. Yet the bedroom is another minefield. Jess is closing their suitcase. They’ll be moving to Emma’s place later today. Which means Veronica will be coming here. Walk the same floors, sleep in the same bed where Lupe and Jess have been together in every way—yeah, the absurdity of it all is unfathomable.

Jess looks at her, and, despite it all, smiles. A saddened, but still soft smile. They pull down the suitcase from the bed, and place it on the floor. Ready. Lupe gulps, her throat so tight that she can barely swallow without scratching it. She has to blink hard as Jess steps up to her with outstretched hands, and fixes the collar of her shirt, “There,” the minutest wink, “handsome.”

Lupe's smile must look pitiful, but she tries. Jess deserves it. After their conversation at the hotel, she especially appreciates them calling her handsome. Not beautiful. Not pretty. Jess does still see her as herself, and not just an ideal woman for themself.

Lupe takes Jess's face in her hands, caresses their prominent, yet soft cheekbones with her thumbs, and kisses them. She's aware of the crew waiting for them right outside the door of their—not for long—bedroom, but she needs another second. And judging by how Jess leans in, pulls her closer by the waist, so do they. 

Kissing as they're both dressed up in their fitted suits for the changeover dinner does put even more attention to the matter of their pairing. Lupe doesn't know many other butches together. Has never seen something like her and Jess, an item. They are the only ones on this show, so that they've now made a spectacle of it. Which feels wrong. Lupe still feels the need to protect the two of them and their newfound intimacy from prying eyes, even if she knows she’s failed at doing it these past weeks. Too caught up in the moment to be able to hide her reactions, her attention, her affection for Jess.

And now, they'll have to reveal it all to the entire cast. To their ex—not for long—girlfriends.

Their kiss melts naturally into a hug, a lingering one, their arms clasped tight around each other. Their hugs are different too, now. They couldn’t not, as Jess's entire body has become as familiar to her as their grin, their massaging hands, their wrestling arm, their comforting shoulder. Having Jess come undone on her face may likely live rent free in her mind for the rest of eternity.

“See you soon, okay?” Jess says, as they part. It must cost them to even ask it, when Lupe doesn't have a good track record of showing up. The shifting sands under her legs could easily make her bend to Veronica’s will, if she asked her to never see Jess again.

No. No, that would never happen. She won't allow it. She has a spine. For how guilty she may feel towards Veronica, Lupe has the right to make her own choices, and Jess's presence in her life is non-negotiable, no matter who her partner is.

Right?

“Yeah,” Lupe says, the only syllable her voice is able to form.

A member of the management crew takes Jess’s suitcase and puts it on a van, which will take it to their new home, while the two of them step on a different one along with the filming crew. Lupe wonders who Bev’s crew will follow now, if they’ll stay with her and Veronica, or go to Jess and Emma. Lupe wishes they'd stay, just to have familiar faces around. Somebody else she can count on as she fights for her life.

Her hand grips Jess's for the entire ride. She can’t quite let go yet.

Jess doesn't attempt to either, “It feels like we’re going to the slaughter.”

Lupe snorts, “Not that far off.”

When they park, she sees a few other castmates already being led inside the hotel they'll be filming at. So this is truly happening. With that realization her heart goes wild, and her hand sweats even more. Jess squeezes it tighter, “At least we'll keep our heads on our necks.”

Unlikely. But that's the type of ridiculous comment she will miss the most, so Lupe, impulsively, turns to them, and pulls them into a kiss that’s far different from the one in the flat. It has a bite, a rushed quality to it, as they both make the most out of their last seconds together. Thank God neither of them wears lipstick, as that’d be a mess to clean away compared to the mere flush in their lips, which will fade. Just in time for when they’ll have to look presentable.

Jess bites Lupe's lower lip, though, harder than she was expecting, and she gasps, looking at Jess in surprise, finding a dare, defiance in their eyes, mixed with sadness, and guilt. Much similar to what she's feeling herself. So she can only forgive them for the red mark that might indeed show on her lip. Let it be visible. Let all the ways Jess has changed her be manifest.

Bev knocks on their window right as Lupe presses one more bruising kiss to Jess’s lips, hoping to do the same to them, “It’s time, lovebirds.”

Jess chuckles, and Lupe does too, helplessly, leaning her forehead to theirs. Jess's hands are cradling her face, and she would never want to let them let her go. 

God, this is too much. She feels wild and crazy and so very stupid. She draws Jess in for one more, bone-crushing hug, filling herself up with their scent and solid presence, then pulls away, and exits the car without looking back. She doesn't need to, to know exactly what she's leaving behind.

She looks at Jess, for one last glance, only when they’re pulled in two different directions, to enter the room from different sides. Jess's eyes are still troubled, but firm. They rub the first button of their shirt, which always means, It's gonna be okay, hermano.

And Lupe can always ever believe it.

She doesn't have time to exchange any words with the others as they get instructed about their seats. Lupe keeps her head down to not see who else is around her, who will be closest to her.

The arrangement is similar to last time, except that she finds herself sitting between Esther and Carson, instead of Max and Greta. Flo is sitting next to Esther, while Emma next to Carson. She resolutely does not look in Emma’s direction. She will not.

Except that she does, for a split moment, and Emma is looking back at her. Her eyes are piercing, and cold. The eye contact lasts no more than a fraction of a second, yet Lupe wonders if Emma gathered any conclusion from that.

This dance is useless anyway. She’ll find out soon enough.

Carson clears her throat, and Lupe does look at her. Carson has an eyebrow raised, and she knocks her foot against Lupe's as she mouths, You ok?

Lupe gives a small nod, averting her eyes, and Carson squeezes her arm in acknowledgment. Having some support next to her may not be so bad.

Especially as Lupe finally raises her eyes to the other side of the table, and sees Veronica. She's already sipping on her glass of wine, casually, as if this is any other dinner. When she catches Lupe's eyes, she gives her a sly smile, and a wink. Like, Hey, you. Like no time has passed at all. Like nothing has changed.

Lupe takes a deep breath, heart in her throat, and looks away. Scanning the rest of the lineup, until she catches Jess’s eyes for a second too. They look so different, so far away from her. Like they’re already somebody else compared to the partner they’ve slept in bed with for the past three weeks.

Lupe sighs, and takes a sip of their drink too. “Ready for shit to hit the fan?” she quips, hoping only Carson and Esther will hear.

And they do. “Never, García,” Esther whispers back.

“Oh boy, here we go,” Carson says, sounding as nervous as Lupe feels.

Vi has arrived. They all clap for her, and she smiles wide as she sits down at the head of the table, “Hello, everybody. Nice to see you all again.”

Lupe barely has the presence of mind to follow all the pleasantries and usual introductory shit that gets said. It's enough effort to keep herself upright, and not let her eyes wander. She keeps them trained on Vi, even as her moving lips make no sense to her.

It's much the same when it truly starts, and Greta and Esther are asked to talk about their trial marriage experience. Lupe, just out of curiosity, tries to catch some interesting parts, or maybe hopes that there are. That the other marriages have been much more eventful than her own, so that she and Jess can fly under the radar. But alas, at least as far as these two are concerned, they've stayed platonic. Have helped each other. They may stay good friends. They're now enthusiastic to start their real trial with their original partners and blah blah.

Great. Fucking great. Carson and Max say much similar shit, if more upbeat, and they gush about each other, and in general, more. Lupe's mind buzzes through it all, and it's only when silence reigns that she realizes that there aren’t many other couples that need to talk, except for—

“Lupe. Jess,” Vi says, and Lupe's stomach plummets. Wait, no, go back. Go back to the others, and she promises to pay attention this time, she’s absolutely not fucking ready yet to— “what about you two?”

There is a pregnant pause after that question, when all the tension in the room amps up, becomes palpable, smelly. Lupe finds mirrors of her own nerves in the others’ expressions and postures, in the tension in Veronica’s neck, her eyes fixed on Vi, in Jo's fiddling hands, in Carson's leg pressed against Lupe's again. She doesn't dare look at Jess yet.

Even Vi is less composed than her usual. She clears her throat, “The last time we were here, some points were raised about the… nature of your relationship.” That's a nice way to put it. “Have the past weeks given you more clarity?”

Lupe, moving past all the eyes and faces around her, finally looks at Jess. And there they are, her hermano. It is them. The one she’s been through all this together with, and that is not going to change.

So when Jess opens their mouth to start speaking, Lupe, finding some resolve deep in her veins, raises a hand to stop them, “No. Let—let me.”

Jess raises an eyebrow, surprised. But grateful. They nod, their lips a thin line.

Lupe lets out a breath. She leans her elbows on the table, and forces herself to focus on Vi again, as the one neutral, stabling point in the room, “It has been an intense few weeks, not gonna lie.” She stops, already having finished the fuel for her voice. And she needs it, if she's going to get through any of it. Veronica's form in front of her is starting to come more and more in focus, magnetizing her gaze, and she doesn't want that. Not yet.

She meets Jess’s eyes again. To let them recharge her.

Then she says, “And Jess and I have come to realize that there is some… truth,” she clears her throat, just as a corner of Jess's mouth quirks up at the hyperbole, “to what has been said.” This is the nicest way she can put it.

The first thing she hears is an even more stifling silence, then Veronica’s amused scoff, “I knew it, you—”

“There won’t be any more interrupting someone else this time,” Vi declares loudly, a hand raised in warning, successfully shutting Veronica up. “Speak only after the other person is done speaking.”

Lupe would kiss her. Now that would be an unlikely pairing. Or maybe, after all, not so much.

She doesn't look at Veronica, as this would truly undo her. She looks at the glasses on the table instead. “I know that it must be surprising,” her voice is so goddamn scratchy, “but there was a point in time, three years ago, before we got with our current partners, when we… almost started dating. But we—I was too scared to contemplate that idea, so I chose to be with Veronica instead.” God, she hates this. She can’t focus on any face, but what they all must be thinking is seared into her brain. Hypocrite. How loud she denied it last time. But it wasn’t a lie, it was just— “All this time I didn’t want to admit to myself that there was ever more than friendship between us, to not jeopardize it. Yet now that we had no choice but to deal with it… shit, I don’t fucking know anymore.” She still feels the cut on her lip from Jess's bite, and she swipes it with her tongue, enjoying the sting of it.

She looks at Jess, but they're staring down now, their arms crossed, and it’s likely they'd wish to disappear just as much as Lupe does. So all that's left for her to do is finally meet Veronica's eyes. Veronica’s eyebrows are raised high, but Lupe can't really read, or rather understand, her expression. She expected to see anger, sadness, like last time, but instead she's a mask of nonchalance. That can't be right, can it? Veronica is nonchalant about nothing in life.

Veronica does open her mouth to say something, but Vi interrupts her again, in a careful tone, “So make us understand,” finally, Lupe has earned some more sensitivity from the charming presenter, “have you been… intimate during this time?”

Lupe thought she had made that clear, but maybe not. That may be why Veronica is still so unaffected. And she's even more hyper aware now of Emma's presence a few seats to her right, and of the way Jess is folding in on themself to not look at Emma just as Lupe has tried to do with Veronica. So it's in no way any easier to say, “Y—yeah.”

Lupe catches Max's eyes then, who doesn't hold back the hint of a smug smirk, like I told you so. The little shit. Who definitely had a hand in Lupe losing enough sense, turning foolish enough to come onto Jess.

Lupe rolls her eyes at Max. She appreciates the distraction, at least. Yet Veronica is still weirdly… calm and collected on her seat. Who is this person? Has her trial marriage changed her too?

“So is it just,” Vi catches Lupe's attention again, “a matter of physical attraction that you've discovered for each other?”

For a moment, Lupe feels a flash of anger. Of course Vi would immediately jump to this conclusion, as if there couldn't be anything more between someone like the two of them. But if even Veronica is keeping her cool, then Lupe has no right to lose it for something so stupid.

“No,” she says, firmly, and only after she hears herself say it does she catch the gravity of the word. How damning it is. But it's too late to take it back, and everything that's happened between her and Jess does deserve to be given a little more justice than this, “It's not just physical. We've been properly together. Like, as a couple. And,” she can't not meet Jess's eyes again, which have turned softer at her words, and smile crookedly at them despite it all, “it hasn't been bad at all.”

Carson nudges her elbow into Lupe's ribs, and whispers, “Romantic.”

Lupe hisses back, “Shut up.”

It's like her words are taken to heart by the whole table, though, as silence descends on it. Veronica is still, somehow, merrily sipping her wine, yet as more and more eyes start turning, Lupe's attention can only follow them.

It's Emma, who Lupe has tried not to look at so far, that isn’t remotely being stoic. Jess is trying to meet her gaze, to likely communicate with her something, reassure her somehow, but Emma’s gaze is resolutely lowered. Her hands are visible, though. Claw-like, right there on the table.

Lupe's stomach plummets in both guilt, and fear. “Listen, Emma…”

“Oh, no, no,” Emma says, the most bitter laugh coming out along with her voice, “do not Emma me. There's nothing you can say, you, you…” she bites on her lips as if holding herself back, but it doesn’t work. She stares right at Lupe, and Lupe is so taken aback by the suddenly fierce eye contact that she has no reflexes to hide from it, “you fucking bitch! At the dinner you said you wouldn't fuck them, yet you still did it.”

Lupe knows Emma’s right, and that she has every right to be mad at her, to hate her, yet Lupe has never been able to set aside her pride in a direct challenge. She sucker-punched her own teammate once, ‘cause the bitch dared disrespect her on the field. So she's got no chance of holding herself back now in front of the fucking hyporcrite. “Well, I wouldn't have, if you’d just married Jess when they asked you to!”

Emma’s mouth falls open. Carson, in between them, has flattened herself against the back of her chair so hard that she may fall over. 

“Oh, so it's my fault?” Emma shouts, all of her usual composure well and truly gone, her hair starting to unravel out of her bun just out of anger.

Fuck. Way to keep this dinner civil, García. She closes her eyes for a second, breathing through her mouth, “No, that’s not what I—”

“Guys,” Jess's voice comes through, barely, as it's so strained it may die over any second, “please.”

Lupe looks at Jess, and she damns her own big mouth at the sight. Jess doesn't deserve to live through this. Lupe should have just shut her mouth two weeks ago too. And her legs. But that has always been another one of her fatal flaws.

Just like when she fucked Veronica drunk out of her mind, the very beginning of the road that has lead all four of them right here at this godawful dinner.

Veronica. Why hasn't she said anything yet? Did she come here already drunk to be able to face it?

Maybe. Not unlikely. As Lupe turns to her again, Veronica is giggling into her wine glass, like she’s having the time of her life. Great. Fucking great. She'll have to witness her meltdown later at home then.

“In any case,” Emma speaks again, as if nothing interrupted them, “there's no way I'm marrying them now. Sorry,” she looks straight at Vi, skipping over the entire stunned table, “but I'm done.”

Before Vi can react, though, Jess cuts in, breaking out of the stupor they were in, “Wait, that's it?” They raise their eyebrows at their non-fiance, staring at her in disbelief, “I may have given you the ultimatum, but you were the one who brought me here. And now you won't even give us a chance?”

Emma hesitates for a second at Jess's uncharacteristic display of emotion. Then her lips tremble as she says, “You didn’t have to fuck Lupe. You chose that all by yourself.”

Jess averts their eyes, away from everyone, but Lupe can't help but keep hers on them, on Jess's teeth burying themselves on their lower lip, still slightly reddened and bruised from their kiss less than an hour ago. What is Jess going to say? Are they going to crumble and deny everything? Lupe couldn’t blame them, not entirely, but Jess did confess that their relationship with Emma wasn’t satisfying anymore, and that they've had feelings for Lupe all these years. Lupe understands Jess's need of doing the trial with Emma, though, so how are they going to convince her?

Jess, however, seems to be caught up in their own pride just as Lupe was, because their next words are neither sympathetic nor smart, “We weren't the ones who brought this up.”

Still hurling blame around in the hopes it will stick to somebody. A classic. Lupe is a master of it, she just didn’t think Jess capable of it. Maybe she’s been rubbing off on them all these years more than she thought.

Emma isn’t having it. Her eyes narrow dangerously, “Yet it seems like we were right, and now you’d like to put the blame on us?” Emma turns to Lupe again for a moment, pointedly, then back to Jess, her voice raising even more, “If you like each other that much, then I wish you all the fucking best!”

Lupe slumps back into her chair. This isn’t what she wanted. Nothing is decided yet, she and Jess could not just be together now, without having put their whole into their respective relationships. Seen if it works or not. Confirmed where their true feelings, and future, lie. Emma cannot take this away from them both, but especially Jess. And Veronica—

“Oh come on, Emmy,” Veronica says. She still sounds as if this is all so hilarious to her, yet her voice isn’t slurred, doesn't have any of the usual cadence of when she's drunk. She looks at Emma with a smile on her face, and speaks softly, as if to a kitten, “Relax. Think of it this way, now everything will be much better. They can do their thing, and we get them the rest of the time.”

Lupe blinks. What is going on? Why is Veronica not shouting, not cursing her? Why does she glance at her with a cheeky grin, and another wink? Did Flo cast a spell on her or something? Lupe turns to said Flo, whose face is fairly neutral, almost stony, but she does catch Lupe's eye, and shrugs. Shrugs. Again, what the hell is going on?

Emma must have a similar thought. “This isn’t funny anymore, Veronica. This isn’t a joke, this is about our lives.” 

Truly, Lupe has barely seen Emma so heated, but at least it's a change of pace to see that she does give a damn about this, about Jess. And she isn't so blind to Veronica’s bullshit. 

Emma’s next words even make Lupe question whether the two of them were ever really friends, or if it was only a bond born out of circumstance and survival, “This whole mess may be okay for you, since you thrive off of drama, but it's not for me.”

Veronica scoffs, “You call it drama, I call it being realistic. It's the 21st century, people!” She raises her voice, addressing the whole table, “Monogamy is dead. Baby,” Lupe can't hide her flinch at being called out all of a sudden, at finding herself under Veronica’s entirely out of place gentle gaze, “it's fine. You can keep Jess, and everything will be alright.”

This may all be a fever dream, that's it. She's still sleeping, back at hers and Jess's place, and this is what her brain is conjuring up to cope. 

Yet, after she blinks a few times, everything still feels real. “I can keep...?” she hears herself saying, between indignation and disbelief. As if Veronica is the one who has to allow her to—

“But of course,” Veronica says, suddenly fervent. “You see? I love you. I just want you to be happy. We can all be happy together. It doesn’t have to be such a big deal.”

“I—” Lupe is stunned, about to yeet herself straight out of her goddamn mind. “You… are you kidding? You're jealous if a girl so much as blinks at me, and now you don’t care about monogamy?” 

Their past threesomes have been entirely Veronica’s playfield, directed by her, with girls chosen by her who were mostly her friends and had been forbidden from touching Lupe. All the attention had been on Veronica alone.

So this makes no sense. For Lupe to keep both has never been an option in the field of possibility, not once in the past weeks of her struggling to come up with a solution to this predicament.

Veronica leans back on her chair, surveying the table of curious, but mostly skeptical, faces. “What can I say? I've had time to reflect. And I came to realize that there’s no reason to make such a fuss. Nobody needs to get hurt. Love is free, isn't it? I had gotten so anxious about possibly losing Lupe, so I thought that marriage could be the solution to tie her to me. But I was wrong. Or at least, not a traditional wedding. What do they say,” Veronica smiles sweetly at Vi, and the camera behind her, “‘if you love someone, set them free’?”

Vi seems at a loss of words. This is not the conclusion this show wants to get at, nor is it likely Vi’s own personal belief. She turns her gaze to Lupe then, a question clear in her eyes. What do you have to say to that?

Lupe's gears are turning. She's not confused anymore. Of course, Veronica is doing this for the cameras. She's putting on a show, by making herself memorable out of sheer contrast. She will look like the most reasonable one, the one who tried to make peace, to widen her own horizons in the name of love. How noble. How selfless.

Lupe knows their real conversation will happen at home. Maybe at their real home. Veronica is able to carry on an act for a long time, she has trained in theater. The worst of her anger will be directed at Lupe alone, in privacy, and Lupe risks losing Jess then.

She can't let it. She can play her own game. Yeah, let Veronica catch herself in her own corner. Lupe is no fool. Or, not anymore. She won't be played anymore, and as soon as she has proof that Veronica has ill intent toward her or Jess, she's out. For once in her life, Lupe will make a sensible decision.

“I agree,” Lupe says, firmly enough to surprise herself, “I don't want anybody to get hurt, this isn’t what this is about. We—I came here to figure myself out, and I’m not claiming to be perfect at it, or to know all the answers. God knows I don’t,” she chuckles under her breath, “so I will carry on with the next trial marriage, and that's all I have to say.”

Lupe's words echo around the room, resolute and final. Jess lets them sink in inside themself, or at least tries to, in the hope to gain the same confidence. But they do not feel much of it.

Veronica is playing a game, Jess knows it, and, hopefully, Lupe now knows it too. For Veronica to be okay to share Lupe, with Jess, of all people? Who she can't even stand to have a civil conversation with? Yeah, there is not one ounce of sincerity in that. Lupe must know it… right? 

Yet Jess can’t do much more than let Lupe fight her own battles. They both agreed on that.

Jess has their own battle to fight anyway. It currently seems impossible to even face it. They're not used to Emma being so upfront, so openly angry. It makes Jess want to crawl under the table, but it also raises their own anger. Now you care about losing me?, the voice deep within says. Now you're paying attention to me?

Everyone else's attention is on Jess too, no doubt about it, judging by how Jess's skin crawls under the scrutiny. Lupe and Veronica have said their piece, they’ll be going home together. But what about Jess and Emma? Emma said she's done, just like that.

So Jess, gathering that pool of anger as fuel, forces themself to look at their partner of three years. They know they're not an innocent party in this, they know all too well what they've done with Lupe in the apartment they've shared for the past weeks, and even outside of it. But they won't allow themself to be vilified and discarded like yesterday's trash. Emma has led them to this breaking point just as much as Jess has.

Emma is crying. Silently, the tears are falling freely down her face, no matter how often she tries to wipe them off. Jess's anger blows over like a balloon as soon as they see them. For a moment, the rest of the table vanishes, even Lupe. If Jess does not own up to their own shit, there's no hope of moving forward from this mess.

“I—” Jess starts, and immediately has to clear their throat, “I won't say sorry for what has happened these past weeks, because we have all signed up for this challenge, haven't we?”

Emma scoffs, not even meeting their eyes, but Jess does not get deterred. They have their own goddamn piece to say. 

“You’re right,” they tell Emma, no matter that Emma is trying to ignore them, “this is about our lives. Our real lives. And I have to start thinking about my own too. Maybe I have more in common with Veronica than I thought,” the words burn as they come out of them, and for a second they meet Veronica's surprised, taunting gaze, but they force themself to ignore her, “because I thought the same. That marriage could fix our strain, make us stronger, or at least tie us together. I realize now those weren't good reasons to ask you to marry me, Emma.” They gulp. “And for that I am sorry.”

Emma, finally, meets their eyes. And for a brief moment Jess recognizes, even through the tears, the same girl who managed to sneak through her defenses after Lupe let her down. The same woman who, with her sweetness and sense of humor, made Jess want to give themself another chance at love. It may not have been wise to throw themself in a relationship after almost grasping the dream of Lupe and losing it in such a vile way, yet the past years would've been much, much worse if Jess didn't have Emma by their side. It must still mean something, right? It wasn't all an illusion, all a rebound, it can't be. They chose each other for a reason, and it can't end like this, on opposite ends of a table full of lesbians in a relationship crisis. 

“I just wish you would've told me what was bothering you, instead of pulling away from me without an explanation,” Jess says, and no amount of gulping or clearing their throat actually manages to soothe their voice as they add, “making me try marriage with someone else didn't have to be the only way to know whether I really loved you or not.”

“Yeah, maybe not,” Emma says, or rather spits out, “and I do regret it now, because this is humiliating. Do you have any idea,” Emma's voice breaks too, “what's it been like realizing over the years that I won't ever compare to Lupe in your eyes?”

“That is not true,” Jess says, maybe too quickly.

“It is and you know it,” Emma turns shrill, and Jess recoils.

“Hold on, let's all calm down,” Vi jumps in, softly but loud enough to pierce through Jess's fog, “I know emotions are high right now, but this is why I would advise you, truly, as your elder who may know a thing or two, that no matter how difficult it may feel right now, it's better to do this trial marriage. If you don't take this time to talk it out, and simply part ways on these terms, you'll likely regret it, and neither of you will be able to move on properly. If that is how it's going to go.” Vi looks at them both with compassion in her eyes, “What seems impossible now, may look different with a little time and a change of perspective.”

Jess closes their eyes for a moment. That is what they wanted to say, but failed to do. Coming from Vi it sounds so much more sensible anyway. They still don't know if it's going to make a difference in Emma's mind. 

Jess opens their eyes again, because they need to know. Emma is dabbing her eyes with a napkin, though, and that split second of freedom from her gaze causes Jess's gaze to move on their own accord. To find Lupe.

Lupe's looking at her, not too overtly, as her head is slightly tipped down indicating that she had her eyes lowered. But they flick to Jess at the same time that Jess looks at her.

It's brief. Jess really hopes that it's not that noticeable, both for the other participants, and the cameras. But they couldn't have helped it even if it was. It's brief, yet Jess can read Lupe's face like a very beloved book. Are you okay? I'm sorry about this. You can get through it.

Jess hopes Lupe can read the same on their face.

Then it's over, and Jess looks at Emma right before she raises her gaze. Not on them, though. On Vi. “Of course you're right. No matter how shitty it feels right now, I put myself in this situation, and if I don't get to the bottom of it, none of this would've been worth it.” Emma chuckles darkly. “So sure, I'll do this trial marriage with Jess, because Jess has been my partner for three years and we both owe each other better than this fucking mess.”

Jess would like to breathe out in relief, but the air gets stuck in their throat. All they manage is to nod. It's the outcome Jess wanted, and no matter how fucking shitty it feels, it's settled. Except that the prospect of going home with Emma is not a pleasant one, especially in contrast to the warmth of the house Jess has lived in for the past three weeks.

A sigh comes out of them then, but they mask its ruefulness by drinking from their glass of rather expensive wine.

Vi’s sigh is louder, more a show than real emotion, “I know this has been heavy so far, and I wish we could just call it a night, but two more couples need to tell us how it went. Dear Emma, I'm sorry, but… has your time with Jo given you any insight on what kind of marriage you would like?”

Emma chuckles again, a sorry, humorless sniffle, “Sure. Jo is lovely.” 

Jess catches Emma sharing a smile with Jo. Jess had forgotten about Jo right on their side, due to how silent and still Jo has been. Jo does return Emma's smile, though. And Greta, to Jess's right, takes advantage of the distraction to squeeze Jess's arm in support. If anything, out of this show Jess has got to meet a few decent people.

“Yet,” Emma goes on, “I don't know if I got any more insight than I already had. I do thank you, Jo,” Emma wipes her tears again, and Jo nods at her sympathetically, “for our time together, it was sweet, it was fun. But Jo is so very in love with her girlfriend, so it wasn't much different from my own relationship with Jess.” 

Okay, that is fucking uncalled for.

But Emma keeps going without a care, “Since Flo had those troubles during her marriage,” she sends a pointed look at Veronica, and that, at least, Jess can appreciate, “it bled through some of our time as well. I don't blame either of them, but I just—” Emma shrugs, “am tired of all these dramas.”

“I'm really sorry, Emma,” Jo says, quiet and surprisingly serious, “I really wanted to give you all my attention. I enjoyed my time with you too, but—” Jo shakes her head.

Emma nods, “I know. It's okay.”

“What troubles did Flo have?” Vi asks, cautiously, but the curiosity is audible in her voice.

Jess relaxes that bit more as the attention switches like a tide on Flo and Veronica. They dare glimpse at Lupe again, but she's focused on Veronica now, lips pressed tight. Veronica slept with Flo, that may be the only reason she's suddenly willing to discard monogamy. Typical. Lupe does not deserve this lying, manipulating bitch.

Maybe I have more in common with Veronica than I thought, Jess's own words come back to haunt them already. Have they lied? Have they manipulated Emma all these years?

Jess averts their gaze from Lupe, suddenly much more interested in the pattern on the table cloth. They would like to tune out the conversation, but Veronica's voice is one of the sounds Jess hates most in the world, and it's hard to miss it.

“Troubles, please,” Veronica says, dismissive as she always is, “we had a grand ol’ time.” She smiles big, and Jess notices how she's trying to caux Flo to do the same, but Flo's expression is unreadable. Veronica lets out a big ol’ sigh, “All jokes aside, I do have to thank Flo for helping me understand Lupe's side better. For showing me how maybe I wasn't exactly being the best girlfriend.” 

Maybe. Exactly. Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Veronica. 

“And what ways are those?” Vi asks her. Jess can't help but notice how Vi is far less sweet to Veronica compared to the start of filming.

“I already said it,” Veronica says, simply, “I'm open to listening to Lupe's needs. To allow our relationship to flourish without pressure.”

How full of bullshit. Jess trusts in the rise of Lupe's eyebrows.

Vi hums—Jess would bet skeptically. Veronica is done enchanting this table. “But what about you, Flo?”

Flo takes her time. Jess counts to ten in their mind before Flo uncrosses her arms, and looks squarely at Vi. “I don't disagree with Veronica. We had a good time, and I learned a lot from her as well.” Veronica smiles smugly, but that smile soon vanishes from her face. “It made me realize how good I have it. Sure, Jo may not be the perfect partner, but they could be much, much worse.”

Snorts come out from multiple people, Jess can't pinpoint them all. They sure know that they struggle to bite back a far more open, loud laugh. Jo, next to them, has her mouth open in disbelief, and mutters under her breath, “Wow. That's what you needed to understand it?”

And Flo laughs too, covering her mouth to stifle it.

“Excuse me,” Veronica finally sounds far less calm than she's been so far, “what do you mean by that?”

“Veronica, my dear,” Flo tells her, sweetly, but Jess sees the thorns underneath, “you're a fun flirt, and a great shag. I'm not sure how much you're relationship material, though.”

“Now, come on,” Lupe protests, narrowing her eyes at Flo, “that's a low blow. I thought you were more classy than that.”

Flo raises her arms in surrender, “I say it how I experienced it. You choose for yourself, Lupe.”

“You're very fun too, my dear Flo,” Veronica says, now back to a better show of composure, “when you pull out that stick up your ass.”

“I know,” Flo says, nodding, “but I find it kind of pleasurable when it's in.”

Jo splutters, and Jess receives a fair share of spittle from it. Biting back a grin, they pat Jo’s back as the rest of the table shares a well-earned laugh, finally diffusing some of the tension.

They sure needed it, because Jo and Flo make eye contact after that, and there’s a sadness in Jo’s gaze mirrored by the apology in Flo’s, “I hadn’t thought this would ever happen. That I would ever allow something like this to happen. But…” Flo looks away, and the table is perfectly still again, listening closely, “I realize I put so much pressure into this relationship thing, into us being the perfect couple who did everything right, like getting married, having kids, etcetera. So maybe this is what we–I needed. Some perspective. A wild relationship full of questionable decisions.”

“Now, now, I thought I wasn’t relationship material,” Veronica cannot help but quip, the smugness back in her tone.

Flo openly, amazingly ignores her, turning the full force of her beautiful, sad eyes on Jo, “I’m sorry anyway. That I hurt you, baby.”

Jo hesitates. For quite awhile. Enough that Jess starts to think she won't speak. But then she says, “It was pretty devastating to hear that you’d slept with…” Jo side eyes Veronica, “her. I don’t know what that means for us. For you or me.” Jo pauses again, her eyes moving around, not landing on anybody.

Jess feels bad. Yet their first action is still to look at Lupe, check on her. Lupe is slouching on her chair, staring at her glass, her face a blank mask. She must feel responsible for Veronica’s actions, even though that isn’t her responsibility.

“Yet,” Jo says again, louder, and Jess had almost forgotten that she was talking, so has to mask a flinch, “in the spirit of this… experience, I’m willing to figure it out. Together, baby.”

Jo only has eyes for Flo, and Flo for her. Flo’s are full of tears, which she dabs away as she nods fiercely in response.

And that is settled too. What a fucking shit show. They're all about to go home with their original partners much worse off than they started. But this is what the creators of this show wanted, isn't it?

Jess panics for a second. Three weeks alone with Emma after Jess's mouth has been on Lupe's a mere few hours ago? Three weeks trying to stand their ground, salvaging a relationship they both want and don’t want to save, while they’ll be silently thinking of what Lupe's decision will be? Suddenly, it’s like they're on the edge of a cliff, and Vi is about to push them over it.

Jess's eyes are far less subtle in searching for Lupe's, then. For just a second, or two, their panicked gaze meets Lupe's mirroring one, the prospect of space and time apart that may make them or break them too harsh to fathom, too big not to look for reassurance in each other. That's what Jess tells themself anyway. They've been on each other’s team for a long time. They're each other’s biggest support system. That's what those panicked gazes mean.

Jess may be a better liar than they thought themself to be. Or they're just being realistic. Either way, they force themself to look away after imprinting into their cornea all the strength they can find in Lupe’s eyes. They don't meet anybody’s gaze, all they feel is Greta’s foot knocking against theirs. They don't like that Greta can probably tell what is going through their mind. They hope Emma can't, that Emma is trying to ignore them until the very last possible second just as Jess is doing.

Jess doesn't register Vi’s parting words. More rehearsed bullshit, most likely. Good luck and all. Don’t kill each other, kids. They know she’s done talking only because the others start standing up. Jess had forgotten this part—now they all have to walk out of the room hand in hand, or at least side by side with their partner, under the voyeuristic eye of the camera. Jess doesn't dare take another look at Lupe, doesn't want to see her reunite with Veronica, doesn't want to know if they hold hands or not. All Jess allows is a parting squeeze on their shoulder by Greta's hand. Jess nods at her in acknowledgement, in good luck to her too. 

Yet, in the motion, they make the mistake of raising their gaze, and they do catch the sight of Lupe. All they see at first is Veronica's arm linked with Lupe's, but then, like the tide, they're inevitably drawn to Lupe's face. And Lupe is looking at them too. It's brief, their eye contact, like before, but Jess sees too much. Is that longing, regret on Lupe's face? They don't want to see it, not right now. Because that's it, Jess is going to be sick. That's going to be their mark on this show, a splatter of vomit on this pristine table.

Emma is advancing slowly towards the exit from the other side of the table, their turn coming up, and Jess's body responds to it out of inertia. Just follow the script, don’t vomit, just walk besides Emma like you've done for the past years, and it’s all going to be fine.

They reach Emma’s side, and some morbid curiosity must overtake them both, because their eyes meet too. Many emotions flicker on Emma’s face, far too many to decipher, even though Jess has a good idea. Anger and disappointment are there. Sadness too. Regret? Jess will be sick if they linger on it all. So they nod towards the door, and Emma nods back. What else can they do but move along?

They don't hold hands, but they do hold their heads high—they're both far too proud for anything less—in front of the cameras as they walk out of the door, pass the inside courtyard with a pool, then cross the foyer, until finally they're on the street and the door of a van is open for them.

The silence is deafening as they're driven home. Jess forces themself to keep their eyes peeled out of the window, the right side of their body, the one closer to Emma, rigid like a stick. They both seem to be even breathing quietly, like a prey waiting for the predator to pass, to leave them alone, leave them alive. 

It's not a given that they're both going to come out of this alive.

Jess, for once, appreciates their entourage, who follows them all the way into their new apartment. New for Jess, at least. The unfamiliarity of it is another harsh note, and in any other case their first priority would be to try and get a feeling of the place, the layout, and its functionality. The cameras are staring at them, though, as Jess and Emma gather around the kitchen island—much bulkier and darker than the one they had with Lupe, which at least is a solid presence under Jess's hands. So they guess it's time to… speak. Say something. 

Do they have to say anything now? What would be the point? They're both tired from filming, and anything that could be said has been said already. But, Jess guesses, if they don't clear the air, they would be not much more than strangers sharing a house. And a bed.

Jess is dreading that part the most. They don't know how to say nicely enough that they would rather sleep on the couch, not without hurting Emma's feelings even further.

Jess takes a breath, clears their throat. They don't know what to look at, because the crew is full of unfamiliar faces—they miss Bev and Martin terribly—and to look at Emma would be even worse. The place is also strange and unwelcoming. They're screwed, basically.

“Listen, let's just get this over with,” Emma says at last, when even the crew has started to look physically uncomfortable by the prolonged silence.

Jess closes their eyes for a second, “Emma…”

“Don't Emma me, this is hard enough,” Emma says, and Christ, there's already a catch in her voice.

“And you think this is easy for me?” Jess fucking snaps, any qualm about staring at Emma gone, no matter the unshed tears in her eyes. “I know I’m gonna come off as a fool, and a fucking asshole, but I swear, last week there was no thought in my mind that there was anything between me and—and Lupe. There never really was, that failed dating attempt was just a… hiccup in our friendship.”

“Yet you never told me that you tried to date her, did you?” Emma says, unforgiving. 

“It wasn't fucking relevant!” Jess says, “I've been dating you, for the past three years. Or maybe less than that, because you checked out of it like… six months ago.”

“Now that's fucking unfair! You checked out of it much earlier than that,” Emma says, and a tear does fall now, which she wipes away furiously.

“How? Tell me how I've changed,” Jess is vaguely aware that their voice has started shaking, but out of anger, “because I wasn't the one who started pulling away.”

“Again,” Emma scoffs, “according to you. How can you still not see it? Haven't the past weeks shown it to you?”

Under Emma's now steely gaze, Jess averts theirs. As they breathe in, for a second it's like they can smell Lupe's skin, still warm with sleep as Jess would wake up with their nose in the crook of Lupe's neck.

Jess, forcefully, pushes any thought of Lupe out of this conversation, “My feelings for you have been real. Are real. We’ve spent three great years together, and I wanted, truly, to marry you.”

Emma tsks, “See? But now you don’t anymore.” She shakes her head, biting her lower lip. “I—I feel so stupid, because I could see it, all the time, the way you look at Lupe. The way you care for her. Like she’s the most important person in your life, and you never even denied that.” Her lip wobbles even under the teeth. “But still, I couldn’t speak about it, I was too scared to lose you.”

“You’re not going to lo—” Christ, “I wish you did speak about it,” Jess bites their own lips, “because we could've solved this in a much easier way.” They motion pointedly at their current televised situation.

“And how is that, uh?” Emma crosses her arms, “How can we solve this, pray tell? Throuples, or quadruples, aren't my thing, I’m sorry.”

“Wha—no,” Jess grimaces, even the thought of being in any kind of second-hand involvement with Veronica enough to make them want to puke all over again, “we’re married now, aren't we? So let's just be married. We have this chance to try it, so what best way to figure out if it's right for us or not?”

“What’s even the point?” Emma closes her eyes for a moment, digging her fingers into her eye sockets, “Just admit that you're in love with Lupe, it will save us time.”

The words love and Lupe in the same sentence send a shock down Jess's system. They reject them out of principle, right here and now, because if they allow themself to register, ponder them, they won't be able to go along with what they need to do, “I have not made any decision yet. Listen, now Lupe is an… option. But like I said, don't I have the right to figure out what's best for my life too? All I know is that you have not been the best girlfriend to me, I have no idea if you love me, but I am willing to give you—us—a chance, and that's all I'm going to say.”

“Oh, so I have to prove myself to you? Do you even hear yourself?” Emma's voice has raised, and the sound of it is grating, it makes Jess feel like fucking shit, like maybe they are just being an asshole and they should just admit that—

But no. They have rights too. They deserve to do this trial, they need as much time and space to figure themself out as the rest of the cast. Emma cannot just write them out so easily.

“Yes, I have feelings for Lupe, alright?” Jess snaps again, and this time it hurts them to do so, “I know that, you know that, everybody knows that now. But this isn't about her, all I know is that I've been investing into a relationship with you for long enough that I'm not just willing to throw it out like it never fucking mattered. So the next three weeks are my commitment to you, and the least I'm asking you is to do the fucking same.”

A sob wrecks through Emma's body, which she tries to stifle with a hand on her mouth, but it doesn't really work, “I don’t know. All I can think about is you, with—with her, and it’s—it’s just too painful.”

The sudden raw pain of it crashes on Jess, and it rolls around the whole room too, on the faces of the crew who has to be a silent witness to this wreckage without being able to do anything about it. Jess does not envy their job.

Jess knows they can't say much to defend themself. The past can be argued about, but not these weeks. Not the taste of Lupe's lips still lingering on their own.

Jess takes a step towards Emma, and when she doesn't step away, they dare place a hand on her shoulder. Tentatively. It's like approaching an unfamiliar animal, when it shouldn't be. She's their goddamn girlfriend. They should know how to comfort her, how to bridge the divide between them.

“I’m sorry,” they say, their voice lowered to almost a whisper, “I really am. Please, let us try. It's just me and you, right now.” It’s just you and me, Lu. Just you and me.

Shut up.

Emma shakes her head, and Jess almost steps back in defeat, but at the last second Emma crashes on them, wrapping her arms around their neck in the tightest hug they've had in months. Jess holds her without question then, closing their eyes, pressing their nose into her hair, wanting to fit them together like they used to. 

It lasts too short of a time, though. Emma pulls away, almost forcefully, still wiping away tears, “I need time. I really don't know if—” she trails off, taking a shuddering breath, “but I'm willing to try.”

“Okay,” Jess says, nodding a few times, between relieved and—they don't know, “that's all I ask.”

Emma nods too. They're standing in front of each other, and Jess is not sure if it's any less awkward then before the hug. It almost feels worse. Should they say something else? But what—

“I’m going to bed,” Emma says, saving them from their struggle. The silent stretches for a few more seconds, before she adds, “Can you…?”

That's true relief, the easiest decision of the night, “Yeah, I’ll take the couch.” It will just make things easier, for both of them.

Emma nods again, and just like that she walks away to where the bedroom must be. Jess is left alone in front of the cameras. They can't stand to meet any of the crew’s pitying stares. And that's when they realize that their suitcase must be in the bedroom, which is not a place they want to go in at all…

Emma opens the door of the bedroom, and places their suitcase outside, then shuts it back up, barricading herself inside. Jess simply stares at the whole quick motion. Thankful, but it still feels rude, somehow. It looks like they can be easily thrown out of Emma's life without a second thought.

Shut up, McCready, and just go to sleep. That will just make things easier. End this fucking day once and for all.

They could not have wanted to sleep anywhere else, yet, after the crew has left and they settle down on an unfamiliar couch in a shirt that still smells like Lupe, staring at the ceiling for far too long into the night, Jess starts to think that there aren't any easy decisions after all.

She should've walked out of this farce on the very first day—she should’ve just grabbed Veronica’s manicured hand and run to the airport as soon as her eyes landed on Vi’s stage smile. 

Lupe never knows when to quit, though. Or, never quits in time to prevent disaster, that is. Story of her life.

The city passes by in a dark blur as the van approaches the flat, and Veronica’s head is on Lupe's shoulder. Incomprehensibly. Lupe had squished herself against one window as soon as they got inside, but Veronica had scooched impossibly close, and, with a sigh, had laid her head on Lupe. Lupe, like a prey playing dead for a predator—and that is such a Jess metaphor that she would kick herself—has kept impossibly still so far. She should maybe push Veronica away, but she cares for her life. 

She's too confused to act at all anyway. This is not what she had expected. Not remotely. The thought that the screaming will start once they get home won't leave her, though. Maybe that's why she's paralyzed in fear.

Get a fucking grip. Veronica is just a girl, and Lupe is not an helpless little animal. She's got teeth and claws too. Sharp ones, according to her teammates. She's ready to give Veronica as much as she gets.

Or, she will be ready. Once they get home. Hopefully. For now, she won't move one inch. She's just thankful that Veronica has at least the sense to not say a word too.

She braces herself as they all—crew and cast—go up to what was once Jess's and Lupe's apartment. The elevator is a packed, claustrophobic space. But Lupe keeps her back straight. Veronica is trying to chat amicably with Bev, and never has Lupe been more grateful for the grouchy older lesbian. All she's doing is grunt at Veronica's attempts to butter her up.

Lupe wonders, not for the first time since they left the hotel, how Jess is doing. Everything will be unfamiliar to them, they won't even have the comfort of the same crew. Sure, they know Emma, but that part is a minefield. Jess is not very fond of change, of being in an environment they're not well versed in. Lupe can't even send them a message, or call them. Her hands itch with the need to do it.

“How… quaint,” it's Veronica's comment as she takes in the open space of the flat.

Lupe nods, cheeks sucked in her mouth.

“Mine was better, I think we should ask for a swap,” Veronica adds, turning to Lupe with a smile and a wink. She's leaning on the kitchen island, the same one where—

Lupe's had enough, and she's barely stepped inside. The crew has barely set up too, but she doesn't care, “Stop it.”

Veronica frowns, “Stop what?”

Lupe motions a little wildly at her, “Whatever game you're playing.”

Veronica rolls her eyes, waving at her dismissively, “Baby, come on, relax.”

“Relax? Relax?” Lupe says, more than a little wild, “Do you even hear yourself?”

Veronica sighs long-sufferingly, “I knew you would get like this. I’m telling you, there's no need. All is well, honey.”

“All is—” Lupe bristles, “I said enough. You’d like me to believe that you're okay with me being with—with… Jess?” Jess's name might come out a little shrill out of her mouth, but she ignores it.

“Okay is not the word I've used,” Veronica says, “I said it's fine. I get it, if we need to expand our relationship, I'm willing to do it. For us. For you.”

Lupe shakes her head, would like to shake the whole flat out of existence, “I've not asked you to do this.”

“You don’t have to,” Veronica’s face softens, and she steps closer to Lupe. Lupe is once again rooted on the spot, so she's powerless when Veronica places both hands on her chest, playing with the golden necklace Lupe's been wearing for years. But not even La Virgen can help her now. “You think I didn't know from day one that you had the hots for your best friend? And if looks could kill, Jess would have killed me the very first time they met me. And many other times afterwards.” Veronica giggles shamelessly.

Lupe's memories about the time when she got with Veronica are blurry at best, but now, with her new understanding, she does remember more of just how fucked that whole period was. Jess's silence about their missed date. Lupe's own guilty silence about it. And Veronica, right there in the middle, victorious. And a bit later, Emma, blissfully ignorant of the whole mess.

“So you, what, just got with me, not caring about it?” Lupe asks, skeptical, bitter, still deadly confused about what is going on.

Veronica sighs again, “Of course I cared. And that's why it’s on me, the fact that I was too jealous and short-sighted to understand how important it was to you. But I swear, I'll be nicer to Jess from now on.”

Veronica’s eyes are big and pleading, her hands hot against Lupe's skin, thumbs tracing her collarbones back and forth. Lupe swallows, feeling stifled by this sudden heat, her head a foggy buzz.

So she has to exert all her willpower to still pierce through it. She grabs Veronica’s wrists and pulls her hands away, finally taking a step back, “I said stop. This isn’t funny, okay? Just… be honest. I know this isn't what you want. I’ve hurt you, and I’m sorry.”

Veronica pauses. She looks at Lupe, maybe seeing her for the first time tonight. Or at least Lupe hopes so. Veronica smiles, raising her hands in a gesture of surrender, “I understand why you’d be upset, and confused. But I promise I am being honest. I swear it in front of the whole world,” Veronica motions at the cameras, and Lupe catches a skeptical eyebrow raise on Bev’s face, “there's no need for you to feel bad. I want you to follow your… heart or whatever.” She winks coily, and Lupe feels a flush rise to her face at the implication.

“But what about,” Lupe powers through it, determined to ignore her own weaknesses, “us?”

“What about us?” Veronica’s smile widens, “I guess it's time for us to go to bed, I am quite tired.”

“But—but—”

“Baby,” Veronica steps closer again, raising a hand to cup Lupe's face, a touch that startles Lupe at first, but when she gets used to it, she can't deny it's also a familiar comfort, “we're alright. We are perfect for each other, aren't we? See, that’s why this is going to work.”

That's an absurd assumption. Even if Veronica might be okay with expanding their relationship, that does not mean it would be okay for Jess, or—or for Lupe. Sure, at a time in her life she had considered herself as free as a foul ball, and she would see multiple girls at once, no strings attached. But when it comes to relationships? Lupe is not well versed in this… non-monogamy thing. She already struggles to keep up with one relationship, let alone two. And with two people who can't exactly stand each other?

“I don't—I don't know,” it's all Lupe can say. It has been a long day. How the hell is she supposed to know anything now?

“It's okay, darling,” Veronica smiles again, “that's why I propose to go to bed.”

Veronica lowers her hand, but only to take Lupe's instead, starting to pull her towards the bedroom. 

Lupe pushes her heels against the floor, “To—together?”

“But of course, where else?” Veronica says, “I've missed you so much.” A pause, then lower, “I know you've missed me too.”

Then Veronica knows more than Lupe does.

“I—” Lupe shakes herself off this weird stupor she's in, “I need some space to think.”

Veronica squeezes her hand, “Alright. But know that you’re always welcome, whenever you're ready.”

Is she… really willing to just let Lupe back into her arms, no question asked? Because everything from the continued eye contact to the emphasis on the word always makes it clear that the offer is not just to sleep. But to sleep together. 

How can she?

Well, Veronica may have fingered Flo for fun, but she hasn't been through what Lupe has. A full-fledged relationship in the span of a few weeks. That would fuck with anybody's head.

So Lupe can only nod, and mutter, "Thanks.”

“Of course, baby.” 

Not how she had expected this day to end. No fire and destruction? Just, Veronica leaving a kiss on the cheek of a still stunned Lupe, and Lupe being left alone in the kitchen surrounded by the same crew who's seen her kiss Jess in this very same spot many a time. Yeah, she needs a goddamn cigarette.

After she's promptly ignored Bev’s and Martin’s worried looks, and chain-smoked a few cigarettes on the balcony, the world still hasn't righted itself, though. A cheery tune comes from the bedroom as Veronica gets ready for bed as if nothing is amiss, and Lupe suddenly realizes that all her stuff is in there. That's going to be a problem.

If only the crew would leave, at least. But Lupe knows that they have to film them going to sleep in separate spots for the extra drama of it all. So Lupe pretends to be just chilling, grabbing a glass of water, sitting on the couch to scroll on her phone—without staring at her past messages with Jess, absolutely not—until she hears Veronica close the bathroom door. Then she springs up, and rushes into the bedroom to grab a new pair of pajamas.

In the prospect of the changeover, she and Jess had changed the sheets this morning in awkward silence, and Lupe had put her old pajamas in the laundry basket. But after she's changed in the small utility closet by the entrance door, and has settled on the couch, she regrets having been so considerate as to erase all traces of Jess from the apartment for Veronica's sake. Not only is Jess not here, but Lupe can't even have the comfort of the last clothes Jess had touched her in, with their smell, their imprint... 

Going to fish them from the laundry basket would be too much, even for her. And even if she wanted to, it’s in the bathroom, accessible only from the bedroom, passing in front of the person sleeping in it she's currently trying to avoid.

“Goodnight, my darling!” Veronica calls out from that very room, whose door she's left half open. In invitation, no doubt.

Lupe closes her eyes for a second. Sleep will be a far dream, most likely. “Goodnight.”

Bev’s hum is far too knowing for Lupe's comfort. At least she and the rest of the crew are gone a few minutes later.

As predicted, sleep evades her. The couch is not that uncomfortable, yet she tosses and turns in it like a madman, flinging throw pillows to the ground, giving purpose to their name. She tries to be quiet about it, though, because she won't give Veronica the satisfaction of hearing her restless.

The itch to message, or worse, call Jess couldn’t even be called an itch, it’s more of an ache, pulsing underneath Lupe's ribs. She turns her phone on multiple times, types a simple message, Hey how did it go?, or How are you?, her thumb hovering above the send button, but then she always deletes it. She can’t contact Jess, because they've both given permission for their communications during the trial marriages to be checked and shown on the show if they're juicy enough, so she won't allow even this to be put on display. 

And when things couldn’t possibly get worse, she has to pee. Forget about it. She can hold it. She's not a child.

More tossing and turning. Sleep, goddamnit. Sleep. You're not going in that bathroom. 

Fuck. But she has to pee badly. Veronica is asleep by now, right? She must be. With a muffled groan, Lupe resigns herself to her fate, and gets up.

She walks on tiptoes, channeling her inner cat if she even has one. The door is open enough to let her slip through it sideways without a sound. Veronica is snoring softly, all askew on the bed, a sound and sight that makes Lupe chuckle despite herself. Shaking her head, Lupe turns away and closes herself in the safety of the bathroom.

Relative safety. There's too many memories in here, some of the most incriminating ones. She can still picture Jess sprawled on the floor, can hear the way they sounded then, and tasted…

Fuck. Lupe buries her face in her hands, pressing her elbows on her knees. What is she doing? What the hell is she supposed to do?

It hasn't even been 24 hours yet, and they miss Jess too fucking badly.

She isn't following the intention she set for herself. She's supposed to put her whole into her marriage with Veronica just as she did with Jess, otherwise none of this would've been worth it. Come on, García. Stop being a coward.

What would the brave thing be, though? Throwing herself back at Veronica sounds like a terrible decision, not dissimilar to every other decision she's made about her girlfriend. Veronica makes her discard her own judgment far too often.

Just go back to the couch and sleep. She'll need it to face the next days, and weeks. Yeah, Lupe gets up from the toilet, flushes it, and washes her hands without thinking about Jess—too much.

Shit, she's flushed the toilet. Well, she's not an animal, of course she did. But the loudness of it makes her curse herself. Please, let Veronica keep on snoring peacefully.

Lupe tiptoes back into the room, closing the door softly behind her. It's not a few steps, though, that her gaze raises without her permission, and she meets Veronica’s eyes.

They’re barely visible in the dark, they're half closed, and she's rubbing one eye with her knuckle, but Lupe sees the plea in them nonetheless. Sees, unmistakably, the hand Veronica uses to pat the empty space next to her. And, to close the coffin, she hears the words, “Come here, baby. Please.”

Lupe doesn't know what to do with her life at this point. Or with herself. But, either out of guilt or regret or nostalgia—she won’t know it for quite a while—her feet are moving before she can take notice of it. She climbs into bed with Veronica, and the momentum of it guides her arms to circle Veronica’s sleepy form, welcomes Veronica’s arms around her, and her lips on hers. Lupe's movements are desperate, frantic all of a sudden, begging for some reprieve, to find some sense in this entire mess of her own making. Veronica is her girlfriend, she's chosen her years ago for better or worse, and she's now her wife for the next three weeks. No use pretending otherwise.

Veronica smiles against her lips, “I knew you’d missed me.”

Lupe doesn't respond. She's well beyond words or rational thought. She shuts Veronica up with her mouth, and slips her hands underneath the sheets, under Veronica’s clothes, finding the full shape of her tits, and the wet heat of her cunt, welcoming her home.