Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

To correctly treat a carpet stain, one must clean away the stain with cloth, starting from the edges, and must not rub or scrub the stain with force.

Fezco has always known that his brother was capable of killing a man.

He couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t angry; his whole body seemed to be fuelled by it, the fury simmering beneath the surface the only thing that kept him moving. Even as a baby he had been royally pissed off, crying louder and longer than any other kid his age. But Fezco supposed that was what happened when you came into the world the way Ashtray did.

And now, at the age of twenty-four, Fezco finally saw those cries in the early days for what they really were — opioid withdrawals.

Fezco had always worried about him and voiced those concerns to his grandma, who would always brush him off.

“He’s an O’Neill,” she would argue. “Kid was always gonna be a firecracker.”

But that was the thing; Ashtray wasn’t an O’Neill — not really — but Fezco was. And while he’d experienced, and acted on, the uncontrollable urge to beat a man’s face in until he was no longer recognizable, those kinds of feelings were few and far between. They always had a reason; the violence was never without a motive.

Ashtray, on the other hand, seemed to relish in the rage.

Their grandma had always called Fezco soft, had laughed cruelly at him the first time he had got into a fight with a bad customer and had shown remorse for breaking the guy’s nose.

If Fezco was soft, he didn’t know what the fuck Ash was.

So, yeah, Ashtray killing a man had never seemed out of the realm of possibility to Fezco. But that still didn’t make him any more prepared for when it finally happened.

- - -

“Bro… What the fuck…”

Fezco holds both hands on his head, staring down at Mouse’s lifeless body. Blood pools from the wound in his head and onto the carpet — his grandma was going to be pissed.

“Rather him than us,” Ashtray spat, chest heaving with adrenaline.

“I can’t handle this shit right now,” Fezco drawls, scrubbing his hand across his face. “Imma call grandma. We gotta take care of this.”

Ashtray says nothing, simply drops into a chair and stares at the bloody scene, admiring his handiwork.

“The fuck you want?” is his grandma’s greeting when she answers his call. “I’m busy.”

“Mouse is dead.”

Silence. Then, “Ashtray?”

He exhales harshly through his nose. “Yeah.”

She’s quiet again for a moment. “I’ll handle it. Stay at the house and only open the door when I text you,” she instructs. “Oh, and if there’s blood, put some fuckin’ towels down. If my carpet is ruined, Ash is gonna be payin’ the fuckin’ bill.”

An hour passes before he hears from her again. Fezco spends the entire time pacing the length of the living room, eyes constantly returning to the body on the floor, now covered in some old bathroom towels.

“You outta control this time, for real.”

Ashtray sneers. “The fuck kind of business you think we’re in?”

There’s a knock at the door only seconds after he receives his grandma’s message: Your savior has arrived.

He unlocks it, removes the latch and swings the door open, brow furrowing as he comes face to face with a petite brunette around his age.

“Hi!” She smiles, all shiny white teeth and bright brown eyes. “Marie called me, said you had a problem?”

It takes about 0.5 seconds for Fezco to realize he knows this girl — Rue’s best friend in high school, Lexi Howard.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, leaning back against the door to make room. “Come on in.”

She walks confidently into his grandma’s home, her shiny mary janes sinking into the shag carpet with each step. She looks well put together, conservative but sexy, her turtleneck high and modest but her leather skirt too short to be decent. He follows behind her, noting that she also has a black ribbon in her ponytail. Fezco’s fingertips itch with the desire to unravel the bow.

She comes to a stop in front of Mouse’s body, hands clasped behind her back. He expects her to cringe away, gasp in horror, cover her eyes — just react in any way at all.

Instead, she’s all business, assessing the situation and then taking out her phone.

“I’m gonna need to make some calls,” she says, already scrolling through her contacts. She looks at both brothers. “Can you remove your clothes? We’ll need to burn them.”

“The fuck?!” Ashtray begins to yell in protest.

Fezco is about to tell him to shut up and do as he’s told but Lexi beats him to it.

“Please don’t make this any more difficult than it needs to be,” Lexi says with a placating smile. She lifts her phone to her ear and says, “I’ll be right back,” before walking back outside.

They both watch her leave, a little shell-shocked.

“That bitch is fuckin’ scary,” Ashtray comments.

Fezco looks down again at the damage his brother has caused and he can’t help it, he laughs.

“Sure, man.” He begins tugging his shirt over his head. “Better do as the lady says.”

- - -

Lexi sends them away to a nearby motel for an hour, tells them not to leave until she contacts them via their grandma.

Ashtray looks like he wants to argue, sick of being told what to do, but he knows he’s in no position to be calling the shots.

They spend the hour stretched across the musty, old bed, watching some old film on TV. Fezco thinks he’s seen it before he can’t concentrate for long enough to be certain.

Promptly — sixty-two minutes after they left — their grandma lets Fezco know they can go home.

“Holy fuck,” Ashtray says as he looks down at the spot where Mouse had been laying only an hour before.

It’s spotless, not a single trace of blood, bone or brain matter. In fact, Fezco thinks the carpet may be cleaner than it was before Ashtray bashed Mouse’s brains in.

Lexi grins at them, pleased. “Happy?“

“Hell yeah,” Fezco murmurs, still not quite believing his eyes. He turns to her. “Yo, what did you do with him?”

Lexi’s smile wavers, just slightly. “You don’t need to worry about that.”

Ashtray crouches down on the floor, fingers sinking into the fibers, as if checking for some sign that it actually happened.

Lexi gathers her things, picks up her bag and her keys. He follows her to the door.

“So, how do I, like, pay you for yo’ services?”

She waves her hand dismissively. “Oh, Marie already took care of it.”

He opens the door for her, because his grandma raised him to be a gentleman. She seems to like the gesture, smiles softly at him in thanks.

He knows that this is business and not a social call but he can’t stop himself from saying, “You Lexi, aight?”

She pauses in the doorway, looking a little unsure.

“Uh, yeah. I wasn’t sure if you recognized me.”

“Hard to forget a pretty face like yours,” he says, going for charming, but she laughs at him and rolls her eyes.

“Didn’t look so pretty when you and Rue drew a beard on me,” she fires back. “Who did you say I looked like? Bob Ross?”

He can feel heat in his cheeks as he rubs a hand across the back of his neck and smiles sheepishly. “Shit,” he drawls, apologetic. “My bad.“

She laughs again. “It’s fine, it was a long time ago.”

“Well, that shit you did in there was insane,” he says, throwing a thumb back behind him. “You a real one, Lexi Howard.“

She grins, sing-songs, “Goodbye, Fezco,” as she leaves.

Fezco can feel the goofy smile on his face as he closes the door and leans back against it. He looks up and is startled when he finds Ashtray staring at him.

“Wassup?”

Ashtray smirks. “Ain’t ever seen you interested in a girl before and this is the one you choose?”

“The fuck you talkin’ ‘bout?” Fezco retorts but he knows he’s been caught.

- - -

Fezco had had hook-ups before — one night stands, drunken make outs, even an entire weekend in a hotel with one girl. But for whatever reason, Fezco wasn’t the dating type. Relationships just seemed too messy with his line of work and he didn’t want to bring some innocent girl into his seedy world.

But Lexi, she was different. She was already in his world and she was probably the most gorgeous girl he’d ever seen.

Ashtray thinks it’s hilarious, watching Fezco pretending to be totally chill and casual as he tells his grandma about the amazing job she did in their living room the night before.

“That girl is worth every cent,” his grandma agrees, lighting her cigarette. “Sweet kid, too,” she mumbles around the filter.

“She’s got Fez down bad,” Ashtray snickers.

Fezco flips him off and Ashtray returns the gesture, one hand raising his middle finger while the other shoves a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

His grandma squints at him, eyes almost invisible beneath her heavy make-up. It sat in the deep creases around her eyes now but she didn’t seem to care.

“You like this girl?”

Fezco shrugs. “Ion know. We knew each other back in the day. She’s cool.”

His grandma seems to consider this, leaning back in her chair. Her usual breakfast sat in front of her — a glass of orange juice and a carton of cigarettes.

“Be careful, kid,” she says as she points her cigarette at him, tone full of warning. “You know what I always say — love is the one instinct you can’t trust.”

Fezco shrugs it off; it wasn’t like he was in love with Lexi Howard. He could just respect a good work ethic when he saw it.

Chapter Text

A car trunk is often loaded with items — boots, bags, tools, canisters. Before detailing the trunk, make sure to remove such items to clear the area, to allow one to determine where any stains are located.

The first time Lexi saw a dead body, she threw up everything she had eaten for lunch that day.

She had been eighteen years old, months away from graduating and desperately trying to work off her father’s drug debt.

During the summer between her junior and senior year, two men had broken into her house and held a gun to her mother’s temple as they demanded she cough up ten-thousand dollars then and there.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out her dad had something to do with it.

Lexi had come home from school only minutes later and had, somehow, managed to calm the situation enough to broker a deal — she and her mother would move drugs for them and hand over their profits until the debt was cleared.

At this point, Cassie had been at her most fragile, still reeling from her break-up with Nate and drowning in loneliness. Lexi and her mother had agreed early on that while she would be informed, involving her beyond that would only cause more problems.

So at eighteen, Lexi had found herself selling drugs at high school parties, and she had to admit, it was more fun than being the designated driver.

But it turns out, when you’ve been known for years as the resident nerd and the selling-drugs-to-teenagers business had already been monopolized by that ginger guy Rue hung around with and his thirteen year old brother, business wasn’t exactly booming.

She’s dropping off yet another meager sum to her boss when she meets Marie O’Neill.

She’s intimidating — the most intimidating woman Lexi has ever met — wrinkled hands lifting a cigarette to her overlined mouth and long blonde-grey hair spilling across her silky, leopard-print blouse. Her eyes are coated in heavy eyeliner but Lexi can still see her scrutinizing stare as she sizes her up across the room.

“Look at you,” she says, smiling at her, but it isn’t nice. “You’re a peach.”

Lexi swallows and murmurs, “Thank you?” Something tells her it isn’t a compliment.

“You look smart, kid,” she says, one hand on her hip. “Like your head should be in a book, not in a shithole like this. How old are you?”

“Eighteen.”

She nods. “I got a boy a year older. He’s quiet, like you.”

Lexi doesn’t know what to say, didn’t know why this woman — who made Lexi’s palms sweat with nerves — was even talking to her.

Lexi’s boss seems equally confused, watching the exchange with a deep frown.

“Bet you’re real organized, huh? Got a planner and shit, all color-coded.”

Lexi blushes. Was she that obvious? “Uh, yeah.”

She nods again and stubs out her cigarette in a nearby ashtray.

“Could use someone like you. I’m Marie,” she says, holding out an acrylic-tipped hand to shake, which Lexi does, hoping her hands aren’t too damp.

“I’m Lexi.”

“Lexi, come with me.”

She follows obediently, walking with Marie to her car. They pause beside the trunk of her old, classic car and Marie pops it open with a smack to the top.

Lexi looks inside and then immediately throws up on the asphalt beneath her feet.

Marie is chuckling beside her. “You okay, kid?” she asks but Lexi knows she doesn’t really care.

Lexi wipes the back of her hand across her mouth. “I’m okay.”

Lexi looks down again, at the man folded into Marie’s trunk, limbs contorted in a way that Lexi’s eyes can’t make sense of and a bullet wound in his forehead. She shudders.

“Piece of shit has owed me money for years,” Marie says, looking at the body with disdain. “Got what was comin’ to him.”

Lexi isn’t in a position to argue with her; who knows, maybe she was right.

“I need you to help me get rid of him,” she says and Lexi’s eyes snap to hers in shock. “I got some contacts, people who take care of these things, but I ain’t got the time to arrange this shit. Got places to be, y’know?”

Lexi didn’t know.

“So I was thinking you could do it for me,” she continues. “Make the calls, give them their fee, make sure the job is done right. And in return, I’ll pay you twice what you owe those fuckheads,” she adds, jerking her thumb back to the trap house.

“But… but, why?” Lexi stutters. “Why, me?”

Marie shrugs. “You remind me of my little girl,” she says, and her tone seems to waver, something like sadness creeping in. “And you look like you need a break.”

She’s silent, hangs wringing together as her eyes flicker between Marie and the body. Marie sighs heavily, reaches into her back pocket. She pulls out a roll of cash.

“How much do you owe that cocksucker?”

“Eight-and-a-half thousand.”

Marie nods, already flicking through the bills and counting out the money.

“Here’s five,” she says, shoving a stack in her hand. “You do this for me, you’ll get another ten tomorrow.”

Lexi gulps, weighing up her options. On the one hand, she knew getting involved with someone like Marie was a very, very risky move that could end very, very badly. On the other hand, Lexi hadn’t exactly excelled at drug-dealing and she didn’t know how much longer she could deal with her boss’s leacherous stares every time she made a drop-off.

Plus, she was nothing if not an over-achiever and organization was second nature to her.

“I’ll do it,” she finally answers. “Who do I need to call?”

Marie smirks. “Let’s fuckin’ do this.”

That night, she pays off half of their debt and tells her boss she’ll pay the rest tomorrow. She gets home late and tells her mother that she doesn’t need to worry anymore, that she took care of things, and not to ask any questions. Suze does as she’s asked but she can see the fear and worry in her mother’s eyes.

A week later, she’s walking with Rue to the convenience store, shoulders light and a smile she can’t contain stretched across her face.

Getting rid of a dead body hadn’t been as difficult as she expected.

“Yo,” Rue says, grabbing Lexi’s wrist and pulling them to an abrupt stop. She nods her head. “You see that old lady over there? The one with the fuckin’ steel-capped cowboy boots? That’s Fezco’s grandma.” She laughs, giddy. “She’s a fuckin’ G, right?”

Lexi watches Marie walk to her car, phone held to her ear as she yells at the person on the other hand.

She smiles tightly. “Yeah.”

- - -

It takes him a week to cave in and ask his grandma for Lexi’s number.

She scrutinizes him through a cloud of smoke, eyes narrowed.

“Remember what I said, kid.”

Fezco grunts but says nothing. His grandma slips him a business card, the card white and heavy, expensive. He runs his thumb across the smooth surface, feeling like fucking Patrick Bateman. He turns it over, reading the simple black font in the center — Discreet Cleaning Services, 747 - 854 - 0313.

- - -

He writes, deletes and re-writes a text to Lexi, over-thinking it so much he starts to annoy himself.

“Just fuckin’ text her,” Ash grumbles beside him.

Fezco scowls at him. “Stop lookin’ at my fuckin’ phone.”

“Then stop bein’ a pussy.”

Fezco’s frown deepens as he mutters, “Got no fuckin’ privacy in this house.” He’d been thinking about moving out for months, getting his own place. It was looking like a more attractive option every day.

He slinks off to his bedroom, still irritated . Most of the time he appreciated Ashtray’s blunt manner and brutal honesty but sometimes that shit was so unnecessary.

He sighs deeply and then tries again, for the third time, sending the message before he can second guess himself.

Fezco: yo lexi howard, it’s fezco. how you doin?

Lexi’s almost instant response is enough to turn Fezco’s mood around.

Lexi: Hey, Fezco. I’m good! How are you? Everything good over there? Marie didn’t say there were any problems…

Of course she thought he was messaging her about work.

Fezco: all good, ma. no worries over here

Fezco: was good seein you the other day. been a while. was thinkin we should do it again sometime

Lexi’s reply wasn’t so quick this time, and Fezco starts to sweat until finally, his phone vibrates.

Lexi: Sounds good. Coffee?

Fezco wasn’t much of a coffee drinker — he thought it was over-priced bean water — but Lexi looked like the kind of girl who liked to sit in coffee shops for hours, reading a book while she sipped on a latte, and he liked that image.

They make plans to meet the next day, at Lexi’s favorite coffee shop. Fezco feels like a teenager, smiling like a fool over a date with a girl. At least, he thought it was a date.

He’s making his way into the kitchen when Ashtray says, “Yo, you located yo’ balls yet?”

“Big talk from a fuckin’ virgin,” Fezco retorts, slapping Ashtray upside the head. “And for your information, I gotta date tomorrow.”

Ashtray groans, rubbing at his head as he mumbles, “I was with a bitch last night.”

“Handy’s don’t count!” Fezco yells from the kitchen, cackling as Ashtray glares at him.

- - -

Lexi looks even better than he remembers, sat across from him in a brown jumper dress and knee-high boots, round tortoiseshell glasses perched on her nose. She looks like a she belongs in a cafe in a Paris, not a shitty hipster coffee shop in their equally shitty town.

She also looks a little like Velma from Scooby Doo, but Fezco doesn’t want that thought to awaken something inside of him, so he pushes it away.

“I was a little surprised when you messaged me,” she admits, both hands closed around her cup. “Wasn’t sure why you wanted to talk to me.”

Her nails are painted a dark red that matches her lips, and Fezco wants to see both of them wrapped around his cock. This girl was turning him into an animal.

“You cool, Lexi. Hella intimidatin’, but cool. Why wouldn’t I wanna talk to you?”

She chuckles, eyebrows raised. “I’m intimidating? Have you met your grandma?”

He laughs, too. “You right. But for real, I was mad happy when you agreed to meet me.”

“You were?” Lexi smiles, eyes softening. “That’s cute. You’re cute.”

Fezco hopes his cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. He takes a sip of his own coffee, wincing at the taste.

“I also wanted you to know that I’m real sorry about all that stuff back in the day,” he says, sincerely. “Me and Rue didn’t mean nothin’ by it, but that shit wasn’t right.”

“Fezco.” She releases his name as a laugh, reaching out to grasp his hand, and Fezco swears her touch burns. “It’s okay, honestly. I was only messing with you. I’m not holding it against you or Rue.”

He laughs nervously but accepts her words. “Aight, if you say so. You still see Rue?”

“Sometimes,” she answers, quietly, and Fezco watches her close some part of herself off before his eyes. “But I try to keep my distance. She doesn’t need to be hanging around someone in our business, y’know?”

Fezco nods. “Word. I’m always worryin’ about that girl but I know she don’t need me in her life.”

“Exactly. It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make,” Lexi agrees. “To keep her healthy.”

The tone has shifted and Fezco doesn’t know how to claw it back. He wasn’t exactly a skilled conversationist.

“How’d you even get into this business, anyway? I ain’t ever thought that lil’ lady in the green sweater, chokin’ her guts up on my couch, was gonna end up doin’ this.”

She smiles gently. “You remember the color of my sweater?”

He shrugs. She doesn’t need to know about his little crush; it’s not like he did anything about it.

“It’s a long story,” she replies, and there’s something secret there. “But y’know what they say—“ She leans forward, fingertips grazing the crucifix hanging around his throat “—cleanliness is next to godliness.”

Fezco’s eyes meet hers, mouth drying as his pupils dilate.

“Come home with me.” It tumbles out of him, without his consent.

She pulls back in surprise, eyes widening slightly, but she quickly schools her face into something more neutral.

“That’s not a good idea, Fezco. I don’t like to mix business with pleasure.”

He can only imagine the pleasure they could draw from one another.

“Then what are we doin’ here? ‘Cause I know I ain’t imaginin’ this chemistry between us.”

She smiles again but it’s different now, and he’s reminded of that night at his grandma’s house, the way she had placated Ash when he didn’t want to burn his clothes.

“We’re having coffee,” she responds, and Fezco has never hated it more.

Chapter Text

All-purpose cleaners are the most effective and efficient option for bathroom cleaning. Sink, faucets and countertops can all be sprayed with a single cleaner and then wiped with a cloth. 

East Highland had a singular nightclub that was packed with the town’s resident twenty-somethings every Friday and Saturday night. It was a good spot to hit up — selling to drunk people who were looking to take those good feelings to another level was always easy work.

The shift was one of their busiest and often fell on Fezco. His grandma knew the club owner, who turned a convenient blind eye to their activities in exchange for a small share of the profit, but refused to let seventeen year old Ashtray inside. Fezco thought it was a strange moral line to draw, all things considered.

It’s on one particular Friday night — a few weeks after they had coffee and became not quite friends, but more than acquaintances — that he runs into Lexi.

He sees her before she sees him. She’s stood with a small group of girls he doesn’t recognize, sipping from a tumbler, eyes continuously flitting around the room. Fez understood that — in their line of work, it was hard not to be paranoid and constantly checking your surroundings.

He takes his time to observe her, eyes trailing from her strappy black heels to her incredibly short black dress, the fabric barely covering her ass with a plunging neckline that was so low it almost reached her navel.

She looks fucking gorgeous and Fezco is once again re-thinking this whole ‘friends’ thing.

When she eventually makes her way over to the bar, Fezco is watching her with a smirk on his face, resting on the bartop with one arm. He sees the moment she finally notices him, eyebrows shooting up and a little smile on her lips. Her eyes survey him, probably surprised to see him in a black suit and a button-up, collar slightly open to reveal the chain beneath. He liked to dress up for the club, even if he wasn’t there to party.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

He nods in greeting. “Lexi Howard.”

She leans over onto the bar and she must know how good her ass looks in that position.

“Working tonight?”

“You know it.”

She orders a drink — whiskey, neat — and turns to him when she takes it from the barman.

”You drunk?” he asks. She doesn’t look it — her eyes are clear and she’s steady on her feet.

”Nope,” she answers, raising her glass. “This is only my second.” She takes a sip, watching him. “You know, you really didn’t have to resort to stalking me.”

He chuckles. “Ain’t stalkin’ you, baby. Told you, I’m workin’. Besides, I know we just gon’ be friends.”

The corners of her lips lift just slightly, smokey eyes narrowing.

“Is that so?”

He lifts his hands up in defence. “I can be a gentleman. Capable of bein’ friends with a girl, don’t gotta be fuckin’ them.”

“But you do wanna fuck me,” she accuses, taking a sip of her drink. “Right?”

He decides to go with honesty, clearing his throat as he answers, “Hell yeah.”

“Then you should have just said so,” she says, eyes sparkling. “I’ve only had a crush on you since I was thirteen.”

He frowns at the new information. “Yo… you have?”

She throws the rest of her drink back, slamming the glass onto the bar.

“Meet me in the bathroom,” she orders. “Third door.”

And with that she’s gone, retreating to the door marked Bathroom, leaving Fezco half-hard in his pants.

- - -

The club’s bathroom has an unusual layout — no division for men and women, just a number of doors down a long hallway, each leading into smaller rooms that worked as their own tiny bathroom.

Lexi is waiting for him behind the third door, as promised, and she fists her hand in his shirt to drag him in as soon as he knocks.

He’s sober, but his head is spinning as she pins him up against the door and slants her lips over his. He kisses her back roughly, tongue slipping into her mouth and hands clenching around the material covering her hips. He feels her fingers tug at his chain, catching on his chest chair.

“Thought you didn’t mix business and pleasure,” he mumbles against her lips, turning them so she is pressed against the door now, supported by his weight.

She laughs into his mouth. “I’m willing to make an exception. So, make me come, yeah?”

He takes it as a personal challenge, mouth moving across her jaw as he says, “Oh, Imma make you come, ma. Don’tchu worry ‘bout that.”

He sinks down to his knees, lips pressing kisses along the valley between her breasts, and pulls her lacy panties down with him. He tucks them into the pocket of his pants — he didn’t usually do that shit but he couldn’t fight the urge to possess something of hers.

With her dress pushed up around her hips, she is completely exposed to him, pink cunt so wet and warm, just inches from his mouth.

He looks up the length of her body to find her staring down at him, chest heaving. Maintaining eye contact, he lifts one of her legs over his shoulder, opening her up further.

“You want this?” he murmurs, warm breath caressing her.

She traps her bottom lip between her teeth, nods.

He parts her with his tongue, licking her from entrance to clit and then sucking the swollen bud into his mouth.

“ Fuck , Fezco,” she whines, hand reaching down to rest on his head and push him closer.

He works her into a frenzy, lips and tongue all over her, tasting the musky sweetness between her legs until she’s writhing and grinding against his face.

“Shit, shit, shit,” she pants, nails digging into his scalp. “Don’t stop.“

His slips a finger inside her, then two, hooking them against the spongy spot he feels inside until she suddenly jerks against him. He smirks against her wet flesh and does it again, pushing against the spot insistently until her pants turn into high-pitched moans and her thigh begins to shake on his shoulder.

He can feel the moment she comes, pulsing around his fingers and coating them with a gush of wetness. He stands to his full height, makes eyes contact as he sucks his fingers into his mouth to lick them clean. She watches him through hazy eyes, leaning back against the door as she catches her breath.

He’s about to make a cocky remark, ask her if that was what she had in mind, when she seems to recover, a look of determination in her eyes.

“You did good, and now I’m gonna need you to fuck me.”

She pushes him back into the space to make room for herself and promptly bends over the counter, hands gripping the edges. She raises an eyebrow, a silent question — what the fuck are you waiting for?

He doesn’t waste anymore time, swiftly unbuckling his belt and opening his fly, his cock springing out of his boxers, flushed and leaking.

He grips her hips, pulling her tighter against him as he brushes his head through her folds. She’s scorching hot, the heat of her almost enough to ruin him.

They make eye contact in the mirror in front of them. They make a pretty picture — her bent over in front of him, mouth slightly open and a bead of sweat rolling between her breasts; he behind her, his scarred hands fisting at her dress.

“Do I need anythin’?”

She shakes her head. “Wanna feel you.”

The initial slide inside is a feeling so exquisite that he thinks, for the first time in his life, that he might understand his customers. He could get addicted to this, to her.

He sets a steady pace, his hips slapping against her ass with every thrust. Her cheeks ripple with the movement and he watches, mesmerized.

“Need more,” she moans, grabbing at his right hand.

He focuses on her, what she’s asking him to do, watches as she pulls his hand between her breasts and up to the base of her throat.

They lock eyes. “ Please.”

And because Fezco considers himself to be a giving man, he does as she asks, fingers closing around her neck as he presses even closer, his front flush with her back.

He tightens his grip, watches her eyes roll back in her head. The mirror is fogging up now with their combined heavy breaths.

“Watchu need, baby?” he murmurs into her ear.

“Touch me,” she begs. “I’m so close.”

He reaches down with his free hand, fingers quickly finding her clit and rubbing until she is shaking beneath him again, head tipping forward as her eyes squeeze shut.

“Come in me,” she demands, pushing back against him even as she recovers, and Fezco takes the direction.

He pounds into her, arm hooking around her waist as he chases his release. His eyes flicker up to look at her in the mirror and the sight of the fucked-out look on her face is all he needs.

“Lexi,” he moans into her shoulder, voice high and breathy as he comes inside her and fuck, if he thought he’d been addicted before.

Fluid drips from between her legs when he pulls out of her, his come landing on the tiled floor beneath them. She laughs at the mess as she pees on the toilet and then grabs a wad of toilet paper to clean herself up. Fezco watches through lazy eyes as he leans up against the wall, collecting himself. Something dark and hungry swirls inside of him at the image of her removing the evidence of him between her legs.

A loud bang startles them both, Fezco tucking himself back into his pants in panic.

“Lexi! Are you fucking some guy in there?” someone yells from the other side.

Lexi curses. “Shit. I totally forgot about my friends. I’ll be right there!” she shouts through the door.

He chuckles. “Fucked you that good, huh?”

She rolls her eyes, laughs. “Don’t get a big head.”

She adjusts her clothes, covers herself up, and fixes her hair and make up in the mirror. She’s smiling when she turns to him again, all teeth, just like that first time when he opened his grandma’s door.

“This was fun! You should call me sometime.” She pats him on the chest. “I’ll see you soon, Fezco.”

He feels a little delirious as he watches her walk to the door, unable to catch up. She pauses with her hand on the handle, shoots him a flirty smile.

“Oh, and don’t think I forgot about my panties in your pocket. You can keep them… this time.”

And with that, she’s gone, and Fezco is already thinking about the next time.

- - -

He waits two days before he texts her, and he spends the entirety of those two days replaying their encounter in the bathroom in his head, over and over again. The memory of how his hand looked around her throat, of the way her lips had parted in pleasure, showing a peek of teeth and tongue, is enough to get him hard.

Fezco: can’t stop thinking about you baby

He had wanted to text her immediately the next day but he knows he would have come across desperate. Lexi was a cool customer, composed and careful with her every move, to the point where he felt like she was following some kind of plan he wasn’t privy to. He knows he needs to play this right to avoid fucking it up.

Thankfully, Lexi doesn’t leave him hanging and responds within minutes.

Lexi: come over

He immediately grabs his keys, sprays on his good cologne and puts on his sneakers, giving himself a once over in the mirror. Ash frowns at him as he watches him walk to the front door, makes a show of sniffing at the air and Fezco’s expensive smell.

“Where you goin’?”

“Mind yo’ business.”

“Grandma said you saw Lexi at the club,” Ash says, not willing to let it lie, and Fezco wants to curse. He lived with two gossipy bitches — he needed to move out yesterday. 

He narrows his eyes. “Yeah, and what?”

“You fuckin’?”

“Mind yo’ fuckin’ business,” he repeats, giving himself away, then points a finger at him. “And don’t tell grandma.”

His brother laughs and he thinks Ash will probably last a whole hour before he tells her.

He feels nervous as he drives over to her apartment. She had sent him her address and he knew she lived in a nicer part of town. He liked that for her — he didn’t need to worry about her dealing with shady neighbors like his, although he reasons that Lexi probably is the shady neighbor in her building. The thought makes him laugh.

She’s beaming as she opens the door, looking relaxed and comfortable in a soft sweater and matching shorts. Her make up is light and her hair is loose and unstyled, and Fezco thinks he might actually want her more than he did in the club. She had looked unreal that night but this Lexi was like a domestic daydream; he wanted to bury his face in her hair and nap with her in a big, cozy bed.

Thank God Ash wasn’t able to read his mind. He’d have no credibility left.

She invites him inside and he looks around her space, taking it in. It’s warm and inviting, full of soft furnishings and plants and old film posters. There’s also a little shelf on her wall, holding yet another plant and a little action figure of an moustachioed man in a tuxedo, holding a coffee cup. He stares at it with narrowed eyes, laughing softly to himself when he realizes it’s Winston Wolf from Pulp Fiction.

“An idol of mine,” Lexi says beside him, smiling.

He laughs again. “I can see why.”

She takes his hand in hers, nods towards the door to their left. “Bedroom?”

“Fuck yeah,” he breathes out, following her as she pulls him inside.

It’s less frantic than the first time, but no less incredible. He takes her on her bed, bodies pressed together as he moves over her. It’s the first time he’s seen her naked and she’s even more beautiful than he imagined — and he had imagined a lot.

She comes beneath him with a soft moan of his name, nails pinching into his scalp.

“I’m close,” he tells her, still moving inside her, but he halts his movements as she pushes at his chest.

He pulls back, confused, wondering if he’d done something wrong.

“I want you to come in my mouth,” she tells him, eyes so dark they almost appear black.

“Shit,  okay.”

He relaxes back against her pillows, watches her kneel between his legs through hazy eyes. His cock is dark red with need, shiny from her wetness. He swallows hard when she takes him into her mouth, maintaining eye contact as she takes him down her throat until her lips are wrapped around the base of him.

“Fuck, Lexi. You so fuckin’ beautiful.”

And he means it sincerely. She might be the best thing he’s ever seen, perched between his legs, round ass in the air as she moves her mouth over his cock, sloppy but sure.

He doesn’t last long, already worked up from being inside her. His hand tangles in her hair as he starts thrusting up into her mouth. She seems to like it, moans around him, and the vibration is too much. He comes hard with a groan, stomach muscles clenching as he empties into her mouth.

She pulls back and he can see the movement of her throat as she swallows his load. She smiles at him as she wipes at the edge of her mouth.

He grins at her. “Think I mighta dreamed you up, girl.”

She laughs, dropping down next to him. Her tits jiggle with the movement and if she keeps this up, he thinks he might be ready to go again sooner than he expected.

“I like all the little names you call me.” She smiles as she rolls onto her side, props her head up on her hand. “Makes me feel sexy.”

“You are fuckin’ sexy.”

She giggles, runs her hand across his chest. “Well, that’s nice to hear, because I think you’re also pretty sexy.”

Her phone vibrates on her bedside table and he checks out her ass as she rolls away to check it.

“Shit. I’ve got a job to get to.” She looks apologetic, bottom lip pouting out. “I was hoping we could go another round.”

He rubs his thumb across her bottom lip. “S’okay, baby. We can do this again,” he assures her but he can’t deny that he’s disappointed.

She sucks his thumb into her mouth and he moans, dick twitching with interest. She releases it with a pop and laughs.

“Sorry,” she says but she doesn’t sound very sorry. “But I really do have to go.”

“Aight.” He leans over to kiss her, firm but short. “Text me when you free.”

She grins. “I will.”

- - -

It becomes a regular thing.

They usually fuck at her place and he’s there so often that he doesn’t think there’s a surface in her apartment where he hasn’t taken her. Fezco is the most sexually satisfied he’s ever been in his life but also the horniest; he spends every moment he’s with her touching her or inside of her, and when he’s not with her he’s thinking about touching her or what it feels like to be inside of her.

It’s the best sex Fezco has ever had and he can’t get enough. There’s only one problem — that’s all it is. There’s affection after they have sex — traded kisses and wandering hands — but there’s some unspoken agreement that there will be no cuddling, that he can’t linger afterwards just to hang out. They’re having sex — a fucking lot of it — but they’re not dating.

It’s killing him.

Ashtray finds it unreasonably amusing.

“You look morose, motherfucker. I thought havin’ all this sex was s’posed to have you blissed out and shit.”

He scowls. “Why you talkin’ shit about a subject you don’t understand.”

He flips Fezco off. “Ain’t no virgin now, bitch. And you don’t catch me mopin’ around after I’ve fucked my girl.”

“Ain’t my girl,” Fezco mutters, irritated. He crosses his arms across his chest, sinks lower into the couch.

“Ohhhh,” Ashtray says, coming to a realization. “You, like, catchin’ feelings and shit, and she ain’t.”

“Fuck off,” he grumbles but he doesn’t deny it.

Ash tsks. “That lil’ psycho got you fucked up.”

Fezco raises his eyebrows. “You callin’ someone a lil’ psycho, for real?”

He shrugs, unbothered. “All I’m sayin’ is, I was talkin’ to Mikey at the store last week, and he said he’d seen this brunette chick comin’ outta the strip club. She was yelling at some huge dudes, all covered in blood and shit, while they carried big sacks outta there. He said the dudes looked fuckin’ terrified of her.” He laughs. “I knew he had to be talkin’ ‘bout Lexi.”

It was weird for Fezco to hear about Lexi’s work. He knew what she did, obviously, and he was no stranger to blood and violence. But he’d never actually seen her in action, and it scared him a little to think about her carrying out the mechanics — screaming at grown men twice her size and ordering people to scrub blood out of floors.

He just couldn’t picture the girl who shivered when he touched her ribcage or delicately kissed the freckles on his skin, being such a tyrant.

“Whatever, man. You can’t believe anythin’ that crackhead Mikey says. And Ion wanna talk about Lexi, anyway.”

It was a lie. All he wanted was to talk about Lexi and how she made him feel, and that was becoming a big problem.

- - -

He loves having sex with Lexi in any position, but his personal favorite is when she rides him. He likes the view he has of her body — her lean stomach, her soft breasts, the length of her neck — and the open access it provides to touch each part of her. He can also watch as he disappears into her, his cock slick with her wetness as she rises and then drops down again.

This time, they’re on her couch, her thighs bracketing his as she grinds on top of him. She’s close, he can hear the tell-tale hitch in her breathing that he now knows so well.

“That’s it, baby,” he encourages.

She leans back slightly, supported by his strong grip on her, and slips her hand down to rub her clit. She comes apart on top of him, thighs shaking slightly with her pleasure.

She slumps onto him after and he takes over then, holding her close as he slams up into her. He comes with a grunt, face buried in the crook of her neck. He can feel her hands stroking his head, soothing him through the aftershocks.

“How’s it always so fuckin’ good?” he wonders aloud as he leans back to look at her.

She giggles softly. “Maybe our bodies are made for each other.”

He smiles softly, even as his chest tightens at her words. “Maybe.”

She walks off to the bathroom to clean up and he doesn’t bother to hide his appreciative stare as she looks back at him over her shoulder.

He’s getting dressed, shirt coming over his head, when she comes back out. This is usually the part where Lexi kisses him goodbye and he pretends his heart isn’t aching as he hears the door shut behind him.

“Hey, do you want some coffee?”

He’s startled by her question.

“Uh… Ion really like coffee… but I’ll have whatever else you got.”

“You don’t like it?” Lexi asks with a laugh. “Then why did you agree to meet me at that coffee shop?”

He shrugs, smiles sheepishly. “Wanted to see you, talk to you.”

She tugs at the bottom of his t-shirt and she’s smiling, pleased. “You’re sweet.”

They go back to the couch while she sips her coffee and he drinks the can of soda she gave him.

“You mind me askin’ why you never went to college? I remember Rue was always talkin’ ‘bout how smart you was, said you was the smartest person she’d ever met.”

Lexi rolls her eyes but the small smile on her face is affectionate. “Then Rue doesn’t know enough people.”

He laughs. “Nah, come on. I know you real smart. Just seems like you shoulda gone to some fancy college.”

She shrugs. “I wanted to go, back in high school. But then I started working and I was making more money than I knew what to do with. I guess I got greedy, wanted to keep making money, so that became my priority.”

“You ain’t greedy, Lex. Just practical. Sometimes we gotta do what we need to, to get by in this world.”

Her eyes are gentle as she smiles, head dropping back against the couch. “Never thought you’d be such a softie.”

Fezco chuckles, mirrors her position as he leans back. “Guess you bring it outta me.”

Her free hand is resting between them on the couch, open, just waiting for him to hold. He reaches over, squeezing her fingers gently between his own.

“I’d be so good to you, Lex,” he murmurs, eyes on their joined hands.

Her voice is so quiet as she replies, “I know.”

“Be with me, baby.”

“I can’t,” she responds. “I’m sorry but I just can’t. It’s too messy.”

“Don’tchu think it’s already messy between us?”

“Maybe,” she agrees. “But I don’t wanna stop this. This feels good, so good. But… it’s also all that it can be.”

Fezco nods, accepting, even if he doesn’t want to. He squeezes her fingers again.

“Then Imma take what I can get.”

Chapter Text

The kitchen is often the heart of the home and where the most mess can be created. One should ensure the kitchen is always clean — it is impossible to enjoy cooking in a dirty space.

Lexi is embarrassingly endeared with Fezco’s proud grin as he shows her around his new apartment.

It’s the same size as hers but on the the other side of town, close to his grandma’s house, so significantly cheaper. The furniture is currently sparse and his mattress sits on the floor, pieces of a disassembled bed frame beside it. It’s clearly the home of someone who’s just moved out on their own for the first time and Lexi can’t wait to see the place when he’s put his personality and preferences into it.

Not that she’s expecting to see it, you know, in the long term.

“Watchu think?”

He’s leaning up against the open door of his bedroom in sweatpants and a white tank, his crucifix glinting around his neck as sunlight streams in through the window.

It’s obscene, how attracted to him she is.

“I love it,” she says with a grin. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Yeah?” He comes closer, hands reaching out to grasp her waist and pull her against him. “Y’know, we gotta christen this place at some point.”

She raises her brows. “Oh yeah?” She leans in, close enough to kiss. “Well I haven’t got anywhere to be for the next hour.”

He catches her mouth with his and sends them tumbling back onto the mattress behind her. It’s a bigger drop than they were expecting and they land hard, Fezco reaching up to cradle her head protectively. She giggles against his mouth, the protective move making her heart seize in her chest.

It was always like this when she was with him. She had her reasons for wanting to keep things casual — or at least, something like casual — but he made it so fucking hard to remember them. He was so sweet and caring, but then she’d look down at the bruises and fresh cuts on his knuckles and remember how he made his money. The duality of Fezco never stopped fascinating her.

He’s kissing his way down her stomach now, pushing her shirt up to reveal the pale skin of her belly.

“Love these little skirts you wear,” he murmurs against her skin, as his hand slides up underneath.

When he puts his mouth on her, she likes to lie back and just let him love her, likes to pretend for just a second that this can be something more.

- - -

Fezco gives her a key to his apartment. She’s hesitant to accept it — she knows the lines are blurry but this feels like a line will become non-existent. 

She does, though, mostly because he points out that their best fucking always happens after he’s made a deal with a supplier, his blood heated and his adrenaline pumping. And this way, she can wait for him at his place until he gets home.

It’s on one of those kind of nights that shit hits the fan.

She curled up on Fezco’s couch, watching TV under the soft blanket he likes to leave there. Most of the lights are off, so she instantly notices when the security light outside the front door switches on, orange light appearing through the frosted glass pane in the front door. She frowns, some weird sense tickling at the back of her neck.

She‘s sure Fezco isn’t home yet — he always texts her when he gets into his car, finishes his on my way with a heart emoji that shouldn’t make her smile as much as it does.

Lexi knows what the smart thing to do would be. She could call Marie, or even Ashtray, and ask them to come over and check things out.

And while Lexi is smart, she’s also learned a thing or two in the last four years. She could handle herself if she needed to, and right now, it feels like she needs to.

Quietly, she slips her hand into her bag and retrieves the switchblade that always sits in there. It’s a small thing — black with an engraving etched into the handle — but it does the job when required.

She creeps towards the front door, looking for a sign of motion through the glass. She reaches for the handle at the same time as she flicks up the blade, and opens the door in a rush.

Several things happen in quick succession — her head snaps to her right at the sound of footsteps, a man with face tattoos comes suddenly into view, and she is shoved back roughly against the exterior wall of Fezco’s apartment.

Her head slams into the wall as the potential intruder bears his full weight onto her, hands gripping her biceps.

“I’m lookin’ for Fezco,” he drawls, stale breath ghosting over her face. “You know where he is?”

“Who the fuck are you?” she hisses.

He tuts. “Don’t think you’re in a position to be askin’ questions.”

She struggles twists her wrist until the blade is pressed up against his stomach; she applies pressure.

“I think you’ll find I am.”

He chuckles, eyes flicking down to the knife. “And watchu think you gonna do with that?”

She applies more pressure until the blade cuts through his t-shirt and pierces his skin. He jumps back, hissing at the sudden pain. There’s a tiny spot of blood on his shirt now — just a flesh-wound but she would have done more, if she had to.

He lifts his hands defensively, backing up against the railing behind him. “Yo, calm down, calm down. I’m leavin’.”

She grip on the blade only tightens, her jaw locking.

“You tell Fezco I was lookin’ for him, aight? Tell him Mouse’s brother got some questions.”

She files that information away. Her eyes don’t leave him until he’s disappeared down the external staircase, and then she leans over the balcony to watch him get into his car and drive out of the parking lot.

Only when his car becomes a dot in the distance does she release the blade of her knife and tuck it away.

- - -

Fezco arrives home less than an hour later, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he shouts, “Hey, baby! You here? ‘Cause I am worked up. Motherfuckers were testin’ my patience tonight.”

She wants to remind him again not to smoke in his apartment, that smoke stains and damage could void his security deposit, but words seem to be failing her.

“In here!” she yells back from the kitchen.

He’s grinning as he walks toward her, his crooked teeth that she loves so much on show. But his face instantly drops when he gets a good look at her. She’s not crying or anything — in fact she feels a little frozen and cold — so it must say something about how well he knows her now that he notices something is wrong so quickly.

He stubs his cigarette into a nearby ashtray as he asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Some guy turned up tonight looking for you, sad he was Mouse’s brother.” She swallows. “Was that the guy in your grandma’s living room?”

Fezco looks stricken, hand coming up to rub across his head, a tick, and she knows her suspicions are correct.

“He hurt you?” he asks, his hand clenching into a fist.

“No,” she answers honestly. There wasn’t a scratch on her, although there had been a dull ache at the back of her head when she got back inside. “He was just trying to intimate me.”

“And he just left? Didn’t try nothin’?”

She shakes her head. He didn’t need to know about the switchblade. “Think he only wanted to see you.”

“Shit,” he curses, rushing over to her.

He pulls her against his chest fiercely, lips coming down to kiss the top of her head. She appreciates the gesture but she wonders if he thinks he’s comforting her right now because she’s experienced some great trauma. In reality, she had moved past the incident the minute she was back inside his apartment; she was more worried that this was going to get Fez seriously hurt. That guy was out for blood, she could see it in his eyes.

“I’m okay,” she reassures him, leaning back so she can meet his eyes. “Promise.”

His eyes flicker between hers, looking for something. She isn’t sure if he finds it but he quickly leans in, closes the gap between them to capture her mouth in a rough kiss.

He backs her towards the counter, lifting her up onto it when they meet resistance. She wraps her legs around him, content to have him in her space and pressed up against her.

He makes quick work of their clothes, only moving the essentials — his pants and boxers down his hips, her panties to the side. She’s already soaked by the time he pushes into her; she thinks it must be a combination of her adrenaline still spiking and her near-constant desire for him.

“Feel so fuckin’ good,” Fezco moans into her neck as he pushes inside.

It’s fast and desperate, Fezco slamming into her with a brutal force that has her moaning and sinking her nails into his back. There’s still a sweetness there though, as his hand comes up to hold the back of her head, preventing it from hitting the cupboards behind her, and Lexi’s heart wants to break at the Fezco of it all.

“I’m close,” she gasps, tightening her legs around him as his hand slips between their bodies to touch her clit.

She comes seconds later and can feel the flood of warmth inside of her as he follows. She’d always used condoms before Fezco, but feeling him spend in her body — leaving part of himself inside, like no one ever had before — has become one of her favorite parts of their sex.

They both take a while to come down, high off the rush and their desperation for one another.

He’s panting against her skin as he murmurs, “Imma kill someone before they can ever hurt you, Lex.”

She strokes the back of his head, wondering if he knows that she would do the same for him.

- - -

“I’ve met someone.”

Cassie’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. The last time Lexi had talked to her about a guy, she was in eighth grade and stressing about the boy in her class who told her he had a crush on her.

“This is huge. How did you meet?” she asks, leaning in, eager.

They were in the middle of their monthly dinner, half a bottle of wine in and waiting for their dessert. Lexi isn’t sure if it’s the wine or her inability to stop thinking about Fezco that has her confessing.

“We, uh, kind of work together.”

Cassie’s enthusiasm deflates, her smile slipping. She was aware of what Lexi did for a living — or at least had a vague idea — and she also knew not to ask questions, because her work involved some very dangerous people. Lexi knew it bothered her, that her sister wanted her to leave the life behind and find something more normal, legal. She also knew Cassie didn’t really understand and never could, but there was no doubt in her mind that Lexi had saved their family and done her best to keep her protected in the process.

“Is he nice to you?” she asks, because there was a high chance that this guy was an asshole.

“Really nice,” she answers, a sheepish smile pulling at her lips. “The best, honestly.”

“Oh my god!” Cassie squeals, earning them stares from the restaurant’s other patrons. “You, like, love this guy.”

Lexi scoffs, rolls her eyes. “I do not love him. It’s not even serious.”

“Then why are you telling me about him?” Cassie asks, a smug little smile in place.

Lexi takes a large gulp of her wine.

“Fine,” she acquiesces. “I do really like him. He’s sweet, and he takes care of me, and the sex is… fucking fantastic.” Cassie grins at that. “But this scares me, Cass. Getting involved with somebody from that world feels like it could complicate things, create ties I don’t want. I’ve always wanted my work to be very separate from the rest of my life, just in case I wanted to get out one day.”

Cassie’s eyes soften in sympathy. She reaches for her hand as she says, “I understand, but Lex, it sounds like it’s already pretty complicated.”

Lexi groans, dropping her forehead into her hand. “God, I know.”

“You haven’t really told me what he’s like,” Cassie points out. “Clearly he’s up to no good but what is he like. I need to know about this man that’s got my little sister so smitten.”

Lexi chuckles nervously. “Uh, you kind of know him, actually.” Cassie’s eyebrows knit together. “Remember Fezco? The redheaded dealer from school who Rue was always hanging out with. Had the scary little brother with the face tattoos.”

Cassie’s jaw drops as she slams a hand onto the table. “Fuck off! You’re dating Fezco?!”

“Will you keep your voice down,” Lexi hisses, eyes darting around. “And we are not dating, as I have just mentioned.”

Her sister rolls her eyes. “Oh, please. You should have seen the look on your face when you were talking about him. You love him.”

Lexi chews at the inside of her cheek, uncomfortable with that word. She didn’t love Fezco, that much was true, but the more time she spent with him, the more she believed she could add a yet to that statement.

- - -

She orders the Uber from the restaurant to her own apartment but asks the driver to head in the opposite direction about a minute into the journey.

There’s a light on in his apartment when she arrives, so she knows he’s home. She hadn’t texted him, wanted to surprise him, and it works — his whole face lights up when he opens the door and sees her standing there.

“Watchu doin’ here?” he asks, pulling her inside. “Thought you was out with your sister.”

“I was,” she answers, dropping her bag onto his coffee table. “But then I started telling her about you — about how much I fucking like you — and I knew I had to come see you.”

She can see the movement of his throat as he swallows thickly.

“Lex,” he murmurs. “Watchu sayin’?”

She steps closer, slides her hand up under his sweater as she meets his gaze.

“I’m saying that I’m tired of trying to stay away from you, from us.” Her voice is soft as she admits, “I wanna be with you, Fez.”

He answers her with a kiss, his hands reaching up to frame her face.

“Am I dreamin’, right now?” he asks against her lips, that gorgeous smile she loves stretching across his face. “‘Cause I had dreams like this before and they always ended real good.”

She laughs, kisses him, her whole body fizzing with joy.

“Tell me how those dreams ended, baby, and we’ll make them a reality.”

- - -

Sunday dinner was a big deal in the O’Neill household.

She knew they were a religious family — they hailed from a line of both Italian and Irish Catholics. But they weren’t exactly the attending church on Sunday type.

“I’m a believer but I’m also a sinner,” Marie had told her once. “And with the things I’ve done, I’m not expectin’ to walk into no church without burnin’ up on the fuckin’ spot.”

So instead, the O’Neill’s had created their own holy ritual. And for the first time, they had invited a fourth guest.

“You make good mashed potatoes?” Marie asks her, cigarette hanging out of her mouth as she bends down to check the chicken in the oven.

“Uh… I’m not what you would call a great cook,” Lexi admits. “I genuinely think I could burn water.”

Marie smirks. “Well mashed potatoes are fuckin’ easy. You just need some salt, pepper, fresh garlic and butter,” she instructs, tapping the items in front of her. Lexi smiles at her pronunciation of ‘buddah’ — it makes her feel warm. “And lots of it — butter is the key to really fuckin’ good potatoes.”

She can feel Fezco watching them from the living room, and she has no doubt there’s a dopey smile on his face right now, one that Ashtray will probably make fun of him for.

When the food is prepped and the chicken is done to Marie’s satisfaction, they settle down at the table, food spread out across every available space. It smells incredible — even her mashed potatoes — and Lexi’s mouth waters.

Marie takes her seat at the head of the table, steady and strong, the true matriarch of this family. She reaches out on either side of her and takes Fezco and Ashtray’s hands in hers.

“Let us say grace,” she instructs and Lexi watches in surprise as both brothers obediently close their eyes and drop their heads.

Lexi doesn’t think she’s ever said a prayer before in her life, but she also wasn’t rude and she wanted to impress her former employer-turned-boyfriend’s grandmother, so she follows suit and takes Fezco’s proffered hand.

“Lord, thank you for this food we are about to eat. Thank you for protectin’ me and my boys. And thank you for bringin’ Lexi into our lives.”

Lexi smiles at that, flushed with happiness, and feels Fezco squeeze her fingers.

“Amen,” she finishes.

“Amen.”

Chapter Text

Salt is an effective natural tool for removing fresh blood stains. One should mix the salt with cold water to form a paste, apply to the stain, wait for ten minutes and finally rinse in a cold wash.

It turns out that dating Lexi is not that different from what they had been doing before.

They still fuck all the time, never able to keep their hands off each other, and he still finds her in his apartment most nights, waiting for him to finish up with work so he can take her to his bed.

But now he has special privileges — he can hold her hand in public, pull her back against his chest while they cuddle in bed, fall asleep with his head in her lap while they watch TV — and Fezco takes full advantage of them.

The soft times after they’ve had sex are his favorite. Lying in bed, facing one another, hands wandering and breaths mingling, but it’s unhurried now. They just talk, about anything and everything, until one of them falls asleep and the other follows.

“Whatchu do with the bodies?” Fezco asks. It’s a question that’s plagued him since the night Mouse had died.

She laughs. “This is some surreal pillow talk.”

“I’m serious,” he responds with a chuckle. “How d’you do it?”

“Ever seen Breaking Bad? Where they put the bodies in the acid and bury them in plastic barrels?”

He nods, eyes wide. “For real? That shit works?”

“Not quite like that,” she answers. “And you can do it in a bathtub — acid won’t break through steel that easily. But it breaks down the body — mainly the teeth and bones — and creates this disgusting goo. And that gets disposed of.”

Fezco is fascinated. “And you do all that? And don’t throw up or nothin’?”

She chuckles, as if caught up in a memory.

“Oh, I’ve thrown up,” she admits. “But not for a long time; it’s strange how you get used to it. And ninety-nine percent of the time, I’m not getting my own hands dirty. I pay other people to do the hard work — people who own businesses, have the facilities to do that kind of thing efficiently and are willing to use those facilities for more sordid activities at night.”

“I feel you. So you got, like, a whole little crew.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” she agrees. “Connections I’ve made over the years. I have a team of contacts now, that I know can get the job done and done well.”

He shakes his head in wonder. “That shit is mad interestin’, Lex. Fucked up but interestin’.”

She laughs again, glad that she could pique his interest.

“It’s not always murders that I have to deal with,” she informs him. “Most of the time it’s fights that have gotten messy, trap houses that have been raided and need to be put back into order.”

“But the murders make you the most money,” he guesses.

She nods, stomach churning at the truth to that statement. “Right.”

He strokes his hand through her hair, thumb rubbing across the shell of her ear. It elicits a soft sigh from Lexi, that makes him smile.

“Do you ever think about getting out?”

He’s surprised by her question; not because it was an unreasonable thought, but because he thought she seemed very content in her work, more so than he was. Part of him thought she’d be happy to do this forever.

“Sometimes,” he admits. “I used to get real jealous when I was a teenager, ‘specially when I hung out with Rue. She always had her own shit goin’ on, but it seemed nice, havin’ nothin’ to do all day except go to school and pay attention in class.

“But I understand this life, y’know? It’s all I’ve ever known and my grandma is a good teacher, the best. She said we’ve all got our place in this world; that where there’s demand there must be supply, no matter how dark the demand is. We need the guy flippin’ burgers at the diner as much as the heart surgeon savin’ people’s lives.”

Lexi nods in agreement and he thinks she isn’t just humoring him, that she does understand him.

“Besides, better to be me sellin’ drugs to these folks, than some cold-hearted motherfucker who don’t give a shit about no one.” He laughs at himself, scrubbing a hand across his face. “That sounded like some ‘good guy with a gun’ bullshit.”

“The dealer with a heart,” she teases, hands now tucked beneath her cheek. Her eyes are shiny with affection as she adds, “You are the sweetest drug dealer I’ve ever met.”

He lets out a combined laugh-groan. “Shit, World’s Sweetest Dealer sounds like some weird ass award they hand out at the convict Oscar’s.”

Lexi laughs, too, face lighting up with it. “I wonder what award I would get? World’s Most Fucked-up Maid Service?”

They both laugh at that and he leans across to kiss her, because he can just do that shit now.

“You ever think about getting out?”

She shrugs. “Sometimes. I’d like to have a family someday and I don’t think I’d want to expose any of my hypothetical children to this world.” She’s quiet as she adds, “I’ve actually been looking at some online classes. I can run a business, obviously, but a business degree could help me in the future.”

“For real? I think that’s a real smart move, baby. You should do it.”

She smiles at his encouragement, shuffling over so she can rest her head on his chest.

He lies there in the dark with her until he hears her breathing even out, wondering if he could ever factor into these future plans of hers, if she could ever see herself starting that family with him.

- - -

His grandma hadn’t looked surprised when he told her he was officially dating Lexi. He knew Ashtray had been running his mouth and telling her more than Fezco had.

She’s seems happy for him — his grandma rarely ever smiled but there was something pleasant in her expression as she said, “I like Lexi. She’s a good kid.”

But he doesn’t get out of the stock room at the store that day — his grandma’s quasi-office — without a warning.

“Love makes you vulnerable, kid,” she says, serious. “You start thinkin’ about protectin’ someone else and you forget to protect yourself.”

A lump forms in Fezco’s throat. He knows she’s right — the rage that he felt inside him when Lexi had told him about Mouse’s brother was like nothing he’d ever felt before, and he had wondered if that was how Ash felt all the time.

But it’s the truth to his grandma’s words that really had him struggling, his thoughts tangling into a complicated mess as he considered them.

He did love Lexi, with every part of him. He could see that now. But he couldn’t imagine any involvement she had in his life affecting him negatively.

She was his savior, after all.

- - -

Fezco had been nervous when Lexi suggested he join her at her next monthly dinner with her sister, but she wanted them to meet officially.

Cassie had also been nervous. They had clearly met before — several times — but the context was very different here and she didn’t want to say something stupid that would offend Fezco, or make him think that she didn’t approve of him being in her sister’s life. He seemed to make Lexi really happy and that was all she cared about.

Cassie is already seated when they arrive at the restaurant, and she rises from her seat with a beaming, welcoming smile. She engulfs Lexi in a hug, and then, before things have a chance to become awkward, she wraps Fezco in a hug as well.

“Long time no see, Cassie Howard,” he drawls, putting the three of them at ease in that way only he could.

Lexi meets Cassie’s eyes over his shoulder and can’t contain the smile that stretches across her face.

“I actually remember that day you got high for the first time,” Cassie says, a teasing smile on her face. “I think you were still kind of high when you got home, ‘cause you raided the kitchen for snacks and couldn’t stop talking about Rue’s friend with the pretty blue eyes.”

Lexi groans, covers her face in embarrassment. “Oh my God, please shut up.”

Fezco chuckles, leans his arm around the back of Lexi’s chair.

“Aw, baby, you had a crush on me?”

Lexi narrows her eyes at him. “I already told you that.”

He shrugs. “Yeah, but now it’s gotchu actin’ all embarrassed and shit. S’cute.”

Lexi slaps the back of her hand against his chest but still leans in closer, until she’s tucked under his arm.

Cassie rests her chin in her hand, a little smile pulling at her lips.

“What?” Lexi asks.

Cassie shrugs, still smiling. “I like this. You’re cute.”

Lexi can feel Fezco’s hand squeeze her shoulder and she finds herself agreeing; she likes this, too.

- - -

They end up at Lexi’s apartment that night, her hands sliding beneath Fezco’s sweater before they’re fully through the door.

Fezco laughs against her insistent lips. “Damn, slow down, baby.”

“Can’t,” Lexi mutters between kisses. “Need you too much.”

“What’s gotchu so hot for me?” he asks, hand sliding down to squeeze her ass. “Not that I’m complainin’.”

“I just loved seeing you and Cassie together,” she explains, hands sliding up his chest to wrap around his neck. “My two favorite people, in the same room, having dinner.” She shrugs. “Made me happy.”

He smiles. “I’m your favorite person?”

“One of,” she corrects. “But you must know that by now.”

Fezco pulls her against him in a hug, presses a kiss to the crook of her neck.

“Shit, Lex. You my favorite person, too.”

“I promise I won’t tell Ash,” Lexi whispers conspiratorially and they both laugh.

They have sex in her bed that night, Fezco lying behind Lexi, his hand holding her leg up and open, so he can enter her. His lips trail kisses along her throat, murmur sweet nothings in her ear.

“Most beautiful girl in the whole fuckin’ world.”

“No one else for me, Lex, I swear. No one but you.”

Her hand reaches up to clutch at his neck as she comes. He finds his own release moments later, panting into her neck as he wills his heart to stop racing.

“Did you mean it?” she asks quietly, still stroking his neck.

He kisses her shoulder. “I meant it.”

- - -

Fezco considers himself to be a man with great intuition. Growing up like he had, you needed to be alert at all times and you needed to be able to read people. If you couldn’t size someone up during a deal and you didn’t know who was around you, you could leave yourself open and vulnerable.

That’s why Fezco is so shocked when he doesn’t hear Mouse’s brother enter his apartment, doesn’t even notice his presence until it’s already too late.

“The fuck you want?”

He’s in the kitchen; his gun is in the bedroom and the knife set on the other side of the kitchen is too far away for him to grab, without startling the man in front of him.

“Don’t think we’ve met before,” he says instead. Fezco has no doubt this is Mouse’s brother — he can see the resemblance. “I’m Raul. You knew my brother. Think you know what happened to him.”

“Look, man, Ion know whatchu been told, but Ion know your brother.”

Raul laughs, shaking his head. “So we just gon’ lie to each other? Don’t seem like the way to treat a new friend.”

Fezco can see the moment Raul decides to attack — a flash in his eyes, the tensing of his body. And he knows he’s going to be left to fight this man with nothing more than his bare hands. It wasn’t his ideal method; he was just glad he’d worn all of his biggest rings that day.

Raul rushes at him, tackling him to the floor. Pain radiates through Fezco’s back as he collides with the hardwood, and then through his cheek as Raul’s fist lands it’s first blow.

“I know your little cunt brother killed mine ,” he spits. “But you were easier to find, so Imma have to be satisfied with killin’ you instead. An eye for an eye.”

Fezco’s head is spinning, the dizziness ready to take over, and he knows he has to get the upper hand. He can also feel the gun at Raul’s side and he knows it will all be over if he pulls it out.

With a sharp knee to his groin, Fezco takes his opportunity to roll them over, towering over Raul as his fists rain down on his face. His face splits open, cuts in his cheek the same shape as the rings above Fezco’s knuckles. Fezco’s blood is pumping, rushing in his ears, and he feels nineteen again, smashing Nate Jacobs face apart in a room full of people.

He’s so singularly focused on his work that he misses the moment Raul gets a burst of energy and pushes Fezco back to the ground, dominating him.

Hands come around his throat, squeezing tight until his air supply is cut off. He’s struggling on the floor, gasping for breath, eyes burning as he feels the blood rushing into his face.

This is it, he thinks. The end of the road. He always thought he’d go out like this — at the hands of someone bigger and badder than him — but he thought he had time, more years left until it actually happened.

It might be a cliche but in his final moments, the faces of the people he loves come to mind. He thinks of his grandma and Ashtray, his obscure family, and all the days they’ve spent together fighting and hustling and having each other’s back.

And he thinks of Lexi — his beautiful, terrifying girl. He was supposed to have more time with her, was supposed to see her in a white dress one day; make an honest woman out of her before they left to make an honest life.

His vision is starting to darken around the edges and he knows he’s giving up but he just doesn’t have any fight left in him.

He’s staring up at the ceiling, saying a final prayer, when he feels the splatter of blood on his sweater and neck. The pressure around his throat is instantly gone and Fezco releases a strangled breath through his aching windpipe.

His eyes refocus and it’s then that he sees the bulging of Raul’s eyes, the slice across his throat, the blood pouring from the wound and onto his shirt. And behind him, Lexi, with a switchblade in her hand.

Raul’s body flops down onto the floor beside him, and Fezco scrambles back, sliding down to the floor against the kitchen island. He stares at the man on the ground and then up to Lexi, his body trembling.

It’s eerily silent in the apartment, until Fezco starts hyperventilating, his heavy breaths echoing around the room.

Lexi rushes towards him, drops to her knees to cup his face in her hands.

“Fezco… Fezco!… Baby, look at me.” He somehow makes eye contact. “I need you to breathe for me, okay? In and out.”

Fezco manages to catch his breath and it’s in that moment that the full weight of what has just happened crashes down on him.

He buries his face in his arms, mumbling, “Thought I was gonna die, Lex. Thought I’d never see you again.”

Lexi’s hand strokes across the back of his head.

“I know, baby, I know.”

She pulls him against her and he buries his face in her stomach, arms wrapped tight around her hips.

“I need to call your grandma, Fez. I can’t… I can’t clean up my own mess.” She kisses him on the head. “I’ll be right back.”

Fez doesn’t look up as she disentangles herself but he can hear her as she speaks into the phone.

“Marie, I need your help.”

Chapter Text

If a wound is bleeding, one should apply gentle pressure until the bleeding stops. Then, rinse with a hydrogen peroxide solution and finally, apply an antibiotic ointment to keep the area moist and ward off infection.

The day after Lexi’s twentieth birthday, Marie gifts her with a switchblade.

She had seen Marie the week before, following her call for help after a shoot-out had happened near her convenience store, and a stray bullet had done some damage to the windows. For once, Marie hadn’t caused the damage, and had been the collateral of someone else’s mess.

“Should be an easy job,” Lexi comments as she assesses the shattered glass. “I’ll make some calls, should get it fixed tomorrow.”

Marie briefly squeezes her shoulder. “You’re an angel.”

Lexi is walking towards her car when Marie calls her name.

“You free next Friday?” she asks around her cigarette. “Got a deal at home that night, think it’s gonna get messy.”

Lexi didn’t know what she meant by that and she never asked for the details.

She winces. “I can’t, sorry. It’s my birthday so I’m having dinner with my family. But I could come over the day after, if you can stay out of the house for the night?”

“Think that can be arranged,” she replies. “See you next Saturday, kid.”

She arrives promptly on that Saturday morning to assess the situation. It’s not too bad — blood splatter up the walls and some teeth on the ground, but thankfully no dead guys. As promised, Marie had made sure no one stayed in the house overnight to avoid creating further problems.

“Good birthday?” Marie asks.

They’re having coffee in her kitchen as they wait for Lexi’s crew to finish up.

She shrugs. “It was okay. My mom drank too much but it was just like any other birthday, y’know?”

“Birthday’s stop bein’ fun when you’re not a fuckin’ kid no more,” Marie agrees.

Lexi supposes that is true — some of her earliest memories are birthday parties with Rue, hands covered in chocolate frosting and a mound of presents wrapped in shiny paper.

“Hey, I got you somethin’.”

Lexi’s eyebrows shoot up. “You did?”

Marie places a thin black box in front of her. “Open it.”

Lexi removes the lid, gasping as she finds the switchblade inside. It’s small and shiny, the handle black with a small engraving on the side — Brown-Eyed Girl.

She doesn’t know what to say. It’s a peculiar present, she’ll admit — Lexi doesn’t think she comes across as a person in want of a knife — but it also feels very appropriate from Marie.

“Woman’s gotta know how to defend herself in this world,” Marie tells her. “Especially in our business.”

Lexi nods, feeling strangely emotional. The primary feeling Marie incited in her was fear — she was fucking scary and she didn’t take shit from anyone. But she was loyal, too, and an accomplished businesswoman, even if her business wasn’t legal.

If you were good to Marie, she was good to you. She just wasn’t very forthcoming about it. Lexi liked that; it was a simple system — you put loyalty in and you get loyalty out. She didn’t always shower you with thanks and praise, and let you know how much she appreciated you. You were simply responsible for maintaining your side of the system and if you broke it, she’d make you pay for it in blood.

The gift was a ‘thank you’ from Marie, she knew that. It was her way of telling her that she appreciated Lexi’s loyalty, her discretion, her help.

“Thank you. Seriously.”

“Don’t mention it,” Marie responds dismissively, and then she’s back to business. “How much do I owe you?”

- - -

Lexi drives them both to her apartment while Marie arranges the clean up at Fezco’s. Fezco sits in the passenger seat, half-conscious, head lolling from side to side against the headrest.

She’s thankful for the elevator in her building — getting Fezco down the stairs in his had been difficult. She still has to support some of his weight as he leans against her on the ride up.

Once inside, he collapses onto her bed with a groan and Lexi fusses with the pillows behind him to support his head.

She turns to leave and retrieve her first aid kit from the bathroom, but stops when she feels his hand catch hers.

“Don’t leave,” he croaks out, voice hoarse.

“I’ll only be a minute, promise.”

She perches on the edge of the bed as she tends to his wounds. There’s a deep gash across his temple that has only just stopped bleeding, and the flesh covering his knuckles was busted open, but it’s the bruises on his neck and his bloodshot eyes that really bother her.

She doesn’t realize she’s crying until Fezco lifts a trembling hand up to her cheek.

“Don’t cry, baby.”

“Sorry, sorry.” She wipes at her cheek roughly. “It just hurts, seeing you like this.” She clenches the q-tip in her hand until it snaps. “Wish I could kill him all over again.”

“Hey, hey.”

“You need to stop talking,” she chastizes. “Let your throat heal.”

She gets back to work, applying strip stitches to his laceration — they weren’t enough but he refused to go to the hospital. Ashtray said he would come over tomorrow to stitch him up; Lexi didn’t think she could hold her fingers steady enough to do a decent job.

When he’s as fixed up as he can be, Lexi removes his clothes — apologizing as he groans again in pain — and makes him swallow two Tylenol. She slips out of her clothes as well, and into her bed, drawing the covers up over them both.

She strokes her hand across his head and face repeatedly, soothing him in any way she can.

“I love you, Lex.”

Her hand pauses on his cheek. His voice is so hoarse that it’s barely audible but she knows she hasn’t misheard.

“Been wantin’ to tell you for a long time,” he adds, eyelids flickering as he fights the urge to fall asleep.

“I love you, too,” she replies easily. “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

She doesn’t sleep at all that night, just watches his battered face relax with sleep and checks he is still breathing every thirty minutes.

- - -

Fezco moves into Lexi’s apartment two weeks after the Raul incident. They mutually agree that they don’t want to ever spend another night apart and Fezco’s apartment now held too many bad memories.

Fezco was still in the middle of furnishing his place, so it’s an easy transition to bring the small amount of furniture over to her home. Lexi insists that when he’s healed up, they’ll go shopping and buy some personal touches for Fezco to put into their home. She wants the space to represent them both.

He was looking better everyday. Ashtray had done a great job of stitching him up and the whites of his eyes had returned to their normal colour. His hands were still bandaged but they were also healing. The bruises were still there, though, blueish impressions of fingers wrapped around his throat. Looking at them made Lexi want to hit something and Fezco complained every time he caught her staring.

“What’s done is done, baby. And these marks’ll be gone before you know it.”

Lexi knows he’s right but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

They don’t discuss what she did. She thinks there’s a part of Fezco that can’t voice aloud what he knows to be true — his girlfriend is a murderer.

Lexi has no problem with it. She did what she had to and she didn’t think the world would be any worse off without Raul in it. And if it meant that she got to have Fezco here with her, in their bed and breathing the same air, she’d do it again.

It’s Ashtray that makes him acknowledge it, in that brutally blunt way of his.

When the dust has settled and things are returning to normal — Fezco is doing drop-offs again and meeting with his grandma — Ash comes over one night. They plan to order takeout and watch movies and make Fezco feel like everything is as it once was, if only for an evening.

She also thinks Ashtray feels guilty; it was his actions that had lead to Fezco almost being killed and it was a bitter pill to swallow.

Lexi isn’t holding it against him. She, maybe more than anyone, knew how easy it was to just react in the moment, consequences be damned. Fezco was now surrounded by people who were willing to kill for him and had; it worried her that she wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that.

Ashtray fist bumps Lexi as soon as he sees her and Fezco raises his eyebrows at the new development.

“What?” Ashtray asks. “She’s one of us now!”

“Don’t say that shit. She’s got her own thing goin’, she’s not part of our shit.”

Ashtray laughs, dropping down onto the couch. “ Okay,” he replies, tone dripping with sarcasm. “But her thing is adjacent to our thing. And she fuckin’ killed someone for you, bro.”

“I am still here,” Lexi reminds them. “I can hear everything you’re saying.”

“And you fuckin’ should,” Ash responds. “You a real one, Lex. Wasn’t sure ‘bout you in the beginning. You had my brother actin’ like a fuckin’ clown, all sappy and shit. But you, like, ride or die, for real.” He shrugs. “I’m grateful, is what I’m sayin’. Should have been me, but I’m glad you was here instead.”

Lexi is touched by Ashtray’s words but she doesn’t know what to say. Her eyes flicker over to Fezco, who’s frowning as he sits down.

“What’s wrong witchu?” Ash snaps. “You should be fuckin’ happy. Wish I had a girl who was willin’ to take someone out for me.”

“I am happy,” Fezco fires back, agitated now. “I love her, you know that. But… that shit ain’t right. She shouldn’t have blood on her hands.”

Lexi snorts. “Wouldn’t be the first time. Literally.”

It’s quiet for a moment and then both brothers start to laugh. She joins in, pleased that she was able to break the tension.

“I am grateful,” Fezco adds quietly. “I know you both got my back. And grandma. And I know you can handle yo’selves. But love means you don’t want yo’ people to get put in harm’s way, aight? So I ain’t ever gonna be totally comfortable with it.”

“Right,” Lexi agrees while Ashtray nods.

It was enough, Lexi reasons. She knew where he was coming from; it was why she had cried at the sight of Fezco’s beat up face. But she also knew that they had each other, to protect one another.

Your people, Fezco had said. One of us, Ashtray had said. She liked the sound of that.

- - -

“You gotta learn how to use a gun,” Ashtray tells her. “Knives are too close contact.”

That was how she ended up in the desert with Ashtray and Fezco, a few hours out of town, staring at a makeshift target and listening to Ashtray’s instruction.

Fezco was sat on the hood of the car, watching them from afar as he smoked a cigarillo. He thought this was one of Ashtray’s better ideas. If Lexi was going to be around them — and she planned to be, for as long as they would have her — then she needed to be able to defend herself from a safer distance.

“Most important rule — don’t put your finger on the trigger unless you plannin’ on pullin’ it.”

Lexi raises her eyebrows. “You care about trigger discipline?”

Ash snorts. “Nope, but you should.”

Lexi was pretty sure she should take offence to that.

She lines herself up, prepares herself and the handgun the way Ash had taught her, and aims at the target — a beer bottle balanced on a boulder with Nate Jacobs yearbook photo stuck it to it.

It had been Lexi’s idea and Fezco had kissed her when she told him, laughing against her mouth. She remembers that New Years Eve party — Cassie’s blotchy face when she had arrived home in the early hours, her bizarre descent into madness after it — but she had missed that particular violent event as she drove a blatantly high Rue back to her house. She wonders if seeing Fezco beat the shit out of Nate would have turned her on, the way seeing him handle a shitty customer sometimes did.

She pulls back the trigger to shoot, hand jerking with the recoil, and at the sound of glass shattering, looks up to see how she did.

“My girl’s a natural!” Fezco yells from the car.

Ashtray runs over to the bottle to check the damage. Fezco comes up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her cheek.

“S’there anythin’ you ain’t good at?”

She giggles, turns back to kiss him.

Ashtray is cackling as he approaches them, lifting Nate’s picture up for them to see.

“Right between the fuckin’ eyes. You wild, Lex, for real.”

Lexi grins and snatches the paper from Ashtray to inspect her work. Nate’s face smiles up at her, a smoking hole in the space between his eyebrows.

- - -

At first, Rue isn’t sure if she’s hallucinating. She hasn’t taken drugs in over a year but what she’s looking at seems too unlikely to be real.

She wasn’t sure about coming to this part of town — she tried to stay away whenever she was back home, fearing that it would bring up too many dark memories. But she had really needed gas and the gas station across from Fezco’s convenience store was the closest.

Seeing Fezco and Lexi Howard sat on the roof of said convenience store was the last fucking thing she expected.

The sun is so bright that Rue has to shield her eyes to look up at them. It’s definitely them, chatting and laughing on the rooftop, legs swinging as they hang off the edge. They look older — their faces have lost their baby fat and Lexi’s hair is shorter than she ever remembers it being in school. But they look happy, really happy.

Something twists in Rue’s gut. There was a point in her life where she had loved both of these people, a lot. And while she understood that they were trying to help, it had fucking hurt when they respectively pushed her away.

And now, here they were, hanging out. She didn’t know they even knew each other.

She fills up her car and goes inside to pay, grabbing some cinnamon gun on her way to the counter. It was an unusual stress reliever for her, the motion of constant chewing keeping her preoccupied when her thoughts were racing.

She climbs into her car, suddenly feeling very ready to get away, but can’t resist one last look up at the rooftop.

And then, inexplicably, she watches as Fezco tips Lexi’s chin up with a finger and kisses her. It’s a practiced kiss, familiar, and she knows this isn’t the first time.

She slumps back into her seat, trying to process. She knew Lexi had gotten into some shady shit in their senior year but had never known the details. This moment feels like something clicks into place for her, offers an explanation she hadn’t known she needed.

Well, she reasons, she didn’t need to worry about Lexi’s wellbeing if Fezco had her back. He’d always been loyal; in fact, so had Lexi.

She drives away that day feeling a confusing mix of emotions but there is some happiness there. If these two people she still loved didn’t feel like they could be in her life, at least they had each other.

- - -

“Why did you help Lexi that night?”

It’s a question he’s wanted to ask his grandma for a while but had never found the opportunity to catch her alone. Especially when Lexi had told him that his grandma had also paid for everything. Now, it was just the two of them in her kitchen, and he felt compelled.

She’s got her back to him as she assembles a sandwich, but he can hear her scoff.

“She fuckin’ saved your life, kid. Why’d you think?”

“Yeah, but I mean… I didn’t kill him. If someone was gon’ be in trouble, it was gon’ be her, not me.”

She’s silent as she considers his question, continues chopping tomatoes.

“I like her,” she finally answers. “She’s a good girl, reliable, and I see how you look at her — like she’s hung the fuckin’ moon and stars. And part of me feels… responsible. I helped get her into all of this.”

Fezco frowns. “What?”

She chuckles. “She didn’t tell you? She did her first job for me. Owed some money to some real pieces of shit — Laurie’s goons — and I offered her more in exchange for her help. Guess she liked it and kept on doin’ it.”

Fezco’s mind is reeling with this new information.

“Surprised she never said nothin’,” she continues. “Guess she’s more loyal to me than you,” she adds with a laugh.

Fezco shakes his head, laughing softly. “Ion know… maybe she is… man, she was mixed up with Laurie? Fuck.”

“Well she’s not anymore,” Marie assures him. “She paid her debt. Don’t know much good it did her, though, ‘cause she’s still here, workin’ with the likes of us. Fuckin’ livin’ with you.”

She takes a bite of her now completed sandwich and leans against the counter as she levels him with a look.

“You hate me now? Knowin’ I got your girl into this?”

“Nah,” Fezco answers and he means it. “Lexi makes her own decisions, grandma. She ain’t do nothin’ she don’t wanna do.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Marie half-heartedly agrees, not entirely convinced. “Honestly, she reminded me of you, kid. Looked like she needed savin’, like you did from that cocksucker you call a father. So I helped in the way I know best.”

Fezco nods in understanding — he could accept that. This was the world his grandma knew and was comfortable with; it made sense that it was all she had to offer Lexi.

There was also a dark, selfish part of him that was glad Lexi had met his grandma. If she hadn’t, he probably wouldn’t have met her again and she wouldn’t be a part of his life.

He snatches the remaining half of the sandwich from her plate and smirks at her as she protests, shoving it in his mouth.

“Disrespectful fucker,” she mutters under her breath.

“Imma head out. Meetin’ Lex downtown.”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck off.”

He’s about to leave the kitchen, keys in hand, when his grandmother suddenly speaks again.

“She has your mother’s eyes.” Fezco pauses, turns back to look at her. “You got your father’s eyes,” she continues, “the only good thing that motherfucker ever gave you. But your mother — she had the prettiest brown eyes I ever saw.”

Fezco swallows thickly, an emotion he can’t identify clawing at his throat.

“Your girl’s got the same eyes,” she murmurs and there’s a longing in hers that he’s never seen before.

His grandma didn’t talk about his mother very often. He thinks it hurt her too much, to speak of her only daughter that had left this world too soon. He sometimes wondered if she hated him when she looked at him, if she saw a physical reminder of the psychosis that had overtaken his already clinically depressed mother after his birth, the psychosis that would eventually make her take her own life.

The only reason he knew about the events of his mother’s death was because his father had liked to tell him, in his most hateful moments, that he was a worthless piece of shit who killed your own mom.

But his grandma had saved him from that man, so she couldn’t have hated him too much. And when she did talk about his mother, the look on her face was the closest thing to genuine happiness that he’d ever seen his grandmother express.

“I know I haven’t always done right by you, kid,” she says, her acrylic nails brushing across his scalp as she reaches up to trace his scar with her finger. “But you and Ash… you’re the thing that matters most to me in this world. You gotta believe that.”

Fezco’s voice is soft as he replies, “I do.”

She kisses him on the forehead and he knows he’ll have a lipstick mark there but he doesn’t bother to wipe it off.

He’s turning to leave the house — and the heavy atmosphere — when she speaks again, stopping him in his tracks.

“And Fez? Speak to your brother, will ya? He’s bringing broads home every fuckin’ day of the week, and if I find anymore glitter in my bathroom, I’ll kneecap that fucker.”

Fezco laughs as the tension instantly lifts. She smirks at him.

“Aight. Imma talk to him.”

- - -

When he enters the bathroom, Lexi is stepping out of the shower, naked and damp. Her hair is wet, freshly washed, and her face is bare and clean. She smells incredible, like her peach body wash and coconut shampoo.

Sometimes, he would catch sight of her and it would blow him away all over again that this girl was his, and he was her’s. She loved him, lived with him, had killed a man for him. That shit was intense and would have scared a lesser man; thankfully for him, he was made of tougher stuff.

He quickly closes the distance between them to pull her into a rough kiss. She’s laughing against his mouth as he backs her towards their counter.

“What is going on with you?”

“Expect me to find you wet and naked, and not wanna fuck the shit outta you?”

Lexi giggles until his tongue slips into her mouth. She meets it with her own, her moan echoing around the room.

There’s no time for foreplay — they’re both so desperate for each other, that she simply perches herself on the counter and pulls him between her legs. She’s scrambling to push his sweatpants down to access his cock, wrapping her hand around it when she succeeds. He moans as she pumps him, forehead dropping onto her shoulder. She brings the head of him against her hot flesh, dragging him through her wetness before she puts him inside.

“Fuck, Lex.” His face is buried in her neck, lost in sensation. “Every fuckin’ time.”

She holds him against her, meeting his every thrust. Her skin is still damp, slippery beneath his hands, and her hair is wet against his face. There’s a damp patch on his shirt where their bodies meet. Something about it turns him on — he clothed, her completely naked; it feels illicit in a way he can’t explain.

Her nails dig into his back as she gets closer to the edge and the sting makes him even harder, his thrusts so rough now that the shelf above them starts to shake.

She cries out as she comes, trembling through aftershocks as he comes inside of her. They don’t move immediately, just hold each other, panting as they catch their breath.

“Shit, ma.” He huffs out a laugh against her skin. “Imma marry you, lock this shit down, I swear.”

She pulls back at this words, hands cradling his face she looks at him, searching for something.

“I’m serious,” he tells her. “We can go to City Hall, right now.”

She’s grinning then, pressing kisses to his mouth again and again. He’s not sure if she knows just how honest he’s being.

To an outsider, it may have seemed crazy to be talking about marriage when they’d only technically been together for a few months. But what Lexi had done for him felt a hell of a lot more committed than a piece of paper that legally declared they belonged to each other.

Not that he didn’t want that — he did, so badly. He’d bought a ring a week after the night with Raul, dragged Ash along, ignoring his protests. Together they’d chosen a ring for Lexi, after several rejections of Ash’s more outlandish — ugly — suggestions.

It now sat in his bedside table while he waited for the perfect moment. Maybe he’d do it later that night, when they were curled up on the couch together, chilling. Or tomorrow, after Sunday dinner. It was hard to choose the perfect moment with Lexi; there were always so many.

- - -

Marie had changed it up for Sunday dinner — a glazed ham, instead of chicken, because who said ham was meant for Christmas Day? It smelled so incredible that Lexi’s stomach rumbled as they sat on the couch, impatiently waiting.

Fezco laughed, smoothing hand across her belly.

“Hungry, baby?”

“Starved.”

The easy affection he offered would never fail to make her heart flutter. She snuggled closer, ignoring the gagging noises she could hear from Ash on the other couch.

They had been formulating a plan. It wasn’t strict, there was no deadline, but they knew they wanted to get out one day, together. So they’d started stashing money away — a college fund, Fezco insisted, for their future children. It made Lexi roll her eyes while secretly, her stomach tugged with longing.

They had quite the sum already but they needed more if they wanted to buy a little house, a couple of cats, truly settle down. And before all of that, they were going to get married; she’d seen the ring in Fezco’s bedside table, though he thought she hadn’t. It would come together eventually, she had no doubt about it.

Fezco caught her hand in his, tangling their fingers together. She looked down at their joined hands — his rough and calloused, her’s deceptively smooth. They were weapons, perpetrators of brutality, tools for covering up the darkest of secrets. But when they were together, there was only gentleness and love.

She leans her head on his shoulder, content.

“Alright, lovebirds, break it up!” Marie yells behind them as she places the ham in the center of the table. “O’Neill’s, your dinner is served.”