Work Text:
fat hands (affectionate)
04:03 PM
so you’ll come?
You
04:04 PM
hard maybe sis
fat hands (affectionate)
04:04 PM
it’ll be super chill!
plus, getting out a bit will be good for you.
it’s kind of been gremlin mode lately
You
04:05 PM
omfg excuse u 🔫
whats wrong w being a gremlin
i do my best thinking when bedrotting ok
fat hands (affectionate)
04:05 PM
g2g back to work. would love to hang out with you ok?
sister time
You
04:06 PM
🥺 u can’t bait me w sister time
vi??
viiiiiiiiiiiii
VIOLET!!!!
What exactly is wrong with Jinx?
Therapists across the land have quit their jobs and retired to the countryside trying to figure it out. A few have needed therapy for themselves afterwards. The question has been the source of many a screaming, foot-stomping, meltdown-inducing clash with her well-meaning sister (most of which ended in tears and hugs before pots and pans could be thrown). It was also famously weaponized, medieval style, in that awful custody battle between Silco and Vander. Despite numerous attempts and pretty much every type of prescription there is, no exact answer has ever been found.
But if ever there was a time Jinx would like to know, it would be now, thank you. Because she seriously needs a medical explanation for why she agreed to come to this snoozefest of a house party in the far west end of the Undercity.
Well, it’s not that it’s boring, to be fair. On paper, it has all the right elements; a house, first of all. Also snacks, booze, some dude’s crappy techno playlist, and lots of sweaty people grinding on a rug they all have to pretend is a dance floor. The lights are kind of pretty, at least. And Jinx’s outfit is cute as hell. About an hour earlier (because of course she was fashionably late), she’d stared into her closet like it was the abyss and realized she hates all the clothes she’s ever owned. So she quickly DIY’d a halter top that may have started its life as a t-shirt from some boxing event, but is much cuter without its bottom half, sleeves and back. It goes with her mini skirt, boots and fishnets like pasta goes with shredded cheese. Her hair is even freshly dyed, covering those dirty blonde roots that were starting to come up for air. She looks adorable. She should feel adorable.
Why doesn’t she feel adorable?
Let’s go over the options. First of all, there’s the music. It blows. That’s pretty much all there is to say about that. And then there’s the fact that Jinx hasn’t spotted a single person she could reasonably call a friend—in fact, there are probably a few folks in here who wouldn’t mind if she died. She doesn’t know this part of town very well. She doesn’t even really know the people throwing the party, though Vi did mention something about them being old buddies of Mylo and Claggor. Typical Zaun problem—your friends get brutally killed, and now you’re obligated to invite their foster sisters everywhere for the rest of time. Anyway, it’s not fun. The thought that Jinx may finally have chased off the last person in the world who actually liked her passes through her mind like a cold gust of wind…
It’s okay, Jinx. We can just go back to being friends. No, it’s okay, this isn’t what you need right now. I get it.
No. Nope. She manages to catch herself on the edge of the self-loathing pit. She will not slip into it tonight. If she does, she knows the climb will be a lot tougher than the fall. Vi said she’d be here. Vi is safe. Look for Vi. Look for the big jock with puppy dog eyes.
Oh, right, did she mention the “drinks” they’re handing out at this party? Jinx is on her third or fourth sip of a slimy green excuse for an Appletini, which she’s pretty sure is mostly seltzer water with fruit coloring. What are they, Piltovans? If only Chuck were tending the bar. He’s usually too scared of her to say no to her requests… and also to correct her when she calls him Chuck. She’s pretty sure Vi doesn’t even know his actual name, since he came along while she was in the clink and now it’s been way too long to ask him. Ha.
Thinking about The Last Drop, its familiar, smoky warmth, and the prospect of a real drink in her favorite cup makes Jinx strongly consider ditching the party to go and bother Chuck and Vander instead. Ladies and gentlefolk, behold as this bored woman disappears before your very eyes!
But before she can begin her incredible vanishing trick, she finally spots a flash of pink hair and tattoos over by the kitchen. Might as well hang around a little longer, then. It takes exactly five skips across the living room to reach her older sister and one bunny hop to hug her arm.
“Whoa,” Vi exclaims, cutting off whatever less important conversation she was having to turn around, smiling as she does. “Jinx! Hey. I thought you weren’t coming. Is that my shirt?”
“I wasn’t going to,” Jinx says, ignoring that last comment, “but it was either this or actually turning in that twenty page paper on time, and I didn’t want to break my streak.” She gestures at the diet Pepsi in Vi’s free hand. “Not getting schwasted tonight?”
“Five months sober.”
“I’m proud of you, sis. In spite of your truly terrible taste in soda.”
Her big sister grins, pulls her in and ruffles her bangs.
“Jinx,” greets a clipped voice, and only then does Jinx’s brain perceive the tall glass of fancy filtered Topside water standing next to Vi. In a dark blue strapless dress, Caitlyn reminds Jinx of one of her old Barbies, before they were subjected to makeovers involving sharpies and scissors.
“Well, stone the crows.” With Vi’s arm still around her shoulders—flexing once as if to say If you’re not nice, don’t forget I have really big muscles—Jinx cranes her neck to greet her dear old annoyance-in-law. Which is more energy than she’d normally like to spend on her, but she manages. “Caitlyn Kiramman. How’s tricks?”
Her greeting is met with absolute crickets. The couple look at each other like Jinx just recited a scroll of ancient Ionian poetry from memory. What the hell? Just when she was making an effort to be polite, too. What more do they want from her?
“What? Did I grow a new limb or something?”
“I’m just surprised,” Caitlyn says then. Jinx thinks her tone is genuine, but you never can tell with that silly accent. “I believe that was the first time you’ve called me by my actual name. That was… very nice of you to do.”
“Oh.” It’s true, even though Jinx hadn’t really meant to. She tugs on her braids, avoiding Caitlyn’s sincere gaze. Her eyes are way too blue. “Right. Well, don’t get too used to it, Princess Diana.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“So!” Vi’s voice cuts loudly through the thickened air between them. “Did you talk to Little Man yet?”
Jinx’s eyes flick back and forth. “Little Man?”
“He texted me asking if you were coming to the party.”
“He texted you? What did you tell him? Did he say he was coming?”
“I said I wasn’t sure. Why didn’t he just text you?”
“The heck would I ask you for if I knew?”
“Jinx.”
“Vi.”
Her sister smiles infuriatingly, giving her that knowing look of hers. “Pow-Pow, come on. You know what I’m talking about.”
Jinx glares. “You trying to lose your Pow-Pow privileges? Because this is how you lose Pow-Pow privileges.”
“You guys fighting is creeping me out. You have to talk to him.”
“We are not fighting! We just… don’t have to talk 24/7, alright?” She picks at a grid on her fishnets, muttering, “Not anymore.”
“You’re barely talking at all.” Vi’s expression has shifted to Sisterly Concern™ and Jinx feels herself softening like butter on a countertop. “I mean, you guys used to take the whole ‘being exes’ thing pretty lightly, but in the last month or so—”
“I haven’t seen him,” Jinx groans, “and I’m not keeping tabs on him either.” Except in class, around campus and on every form of social media in existence. But you know, other than that…
“He misses you.” There they are. The most dangerous words in existence. “I know he does. A shit ton.”
“Are you being Ekko’s big sister right now, or mine?”
“Listen—“
“Isn’t that him now?” Caitlyn’s voice drops suddenly into the conversation like an apple from a very tall tree dropping on their heads.
Jinx and Vi turn simultaneously to find a manicured finger pointing across the room, where, sure enough, a shock of frosty white locs is bobbing to the music. His back is turned as he shrugs off his old green jacket (she can’t tell if her scribbles are still inside), chatting up some people Jinx doesn’t know. Fortunately, that means he can’t see her. Unfortunately, she can very much see him, the broad expanse of his back, and the unobstructed backside of his jeans. They’re still scuffed from that time he misjudged a turn and fell on his board. He’s wearing a vintage tee, slightly oversized and—devastatingly for Jinx—cropped at the bottom, revealing a little sliver of flat, dark stomach.
Clearly, there is no God.
So maybe Jinx has been avoiding her childhood friend-turned boyfriend-turned BEF (Best Ex Forever) a little bit lately. And maybe it started somewhere around the time Vi and Caitlyn began mooshing mouths, but that does not mean them getting together and being all googoo gaga made Jinx realize her own buried feelings or anything. She just hasn’t been feeling well, and hasn’t exactly been in a friendly mood either. Maybe it’s her meds acting up. Whatever it is, she doesn’t want to take it out on Ekko. They were honestly doing great before her weird little switch flipped a month or so ago. Still hanging out, still kicking each other’s ass at Mario Party, still hugging and even cuddling. Which is lucky, because Jinx is a toucher and would probably wither away if she was ever exiled from his personal space. Ekko hasn’t done anything other than be her friend.
Except, yeah, okay, maybe he took their breakup just a little too well. Would it have killed him to fight for her a little bit? To at least pretend like he wasn’t happy to be off the hook? His sad nodding and smiling and No, it’s okay-ing broke her heart. And she really didn’t need his help with that when she was doing such a fine job of it herself.
Ekko shares a laugh with whoever he’s talking to, and Jinx suddenly feels cold. “Looks like he’s doing just fine without me anyway.”
“That’s not what Chuck says.”
Jinx frowns at her sister. “What’s Chuck got to do with anything?”
“Half his job is being a good listener,” Vi says with a shrug. “You don’t know Ekko’s been coming into the bar to unload when you’re out?”
Oh. There’s an odd, tingly swoop in her stomach. It’s not that she wants Ekko to feel like shit, and maybe it’s her abandonment issues talking, but… it does feel kind of good to be missed, after all.
“If I may, Jinx,” says—who would’ve thunk it—Caitlyn. Her eyes are so earnest, Jinx finds she can’t look away. “I don’t know what’s happened between you two—”
“Well, that’s easy. You familiar with the ancient proverb Don’t stick your dick in crazy, Cupcake?”
“…And I may not know either of you that well,” Caitlyn continues, ignoring her. “But brushing him off like dust under the rug and pretending you don’t see him won’t help either of you move on.” She shares a look with Vi. “That’s my advice, at least.”
Jinx sighs. “Well, ain’t you just a pickled peach? Thanks, but I already have a shrink. One that isn’t banging my sister.” She takes a sour sip of fake Appletini while Vi chokes on her diet Pepsi. “Sorry, should I have said that in her language? What’s their word again?”
“I believe that would be shagging your sister,” Caitlyn helpfully notes, looking at Jinx unperturbed.
“You’re a funny lady, you know that?” Jinx pats Vi’s arm. “Alright, stop bugging me already. I get it. I’ll leave you guys alone… and go bother my ex instead.”
“If it sucks, come talk to us.” Vi grabs her forearm before she can walk off and pulls her into a warm hug. “Please. Don’t run off and TP his house or something.”
“Oh, please, sis,” Jinx snorts into her shoulder. “I would never.”
Game time. She takes a breath and prepares to go in, their conversation resuming behind her as she walks away (“Shagging, Cait?”). But in that exact moment, someone hogs the AUX cord over by the speaker system and changes the night in an instant. Jinx freezes mid-step, her platform boot suspended in the air as it dawns on her what’s happening. Oh no. Oh, fuck no. This is the worst. It’s a bona fide disaster, it’s a Category 5 crisis, it’s…
It’s their song.
Oh, brother. Looks like the party had clearance to play exactly one good song tonight, and of all the tunes in the world, it just had to be that one. The dreamy, foreign dance track that was playing at the party they crashed together after placing second at last year’s Tournament of Robotics (where Jinx had to be talked out of emptying one of Silco’s still-undiscovered offshore accounts so they could sue the fuckers for crowning that lame mouse maze over their legendary Sumo Wrestlin’ Battle Bots). The night itself is a blur to Jinx, but Ekko’s words aren’t.
You like this song? Why don’t we make it ours?
You’re so corny, boy wonder.
Then it’s settled.
And they’d danced and swayed and kissed all night, the stupid tournament all but forgotten. Oh, man. Jinx knew the world had it out for her, but this is ridiculous. The song is in some flowery language she doesn’t understand a single syllable of, but it makes her heart sing and her feet airy and sends her flying every time. Even now. Even here.
Lord, she can’t fucking do this.
But before she can give in to the intrusive urge to yell “Fire!”—or actually start one—to bring the party to a quick end, Ekko turns around and the whole world slows. When their eyes meet, brown on pink, they speak without any words. She can tell he reacted to that dumb song the same way she did. So there’s that, at least.
Jinx puts her cup down and steps towards Ekko slowly, one boot at a time, feeling as if they’re the only two people in the room. Maybe in the entire world. She blows her bangs out of her face. “Hi.”
He smiles. She folds like Sunday laundry. “Hi.”
“Fancy seeing you here, mister. Are we gonna dance or what?”
Ekko studies her face, then the half-empty rug/dance floor. “You sure?”
“Oh, don’t be shy. You do have some moves, for a nerd.”
“Oh, yeah? Let’s see yours, then.”
And so Jinx finds herself on a living room floor awash in pink and purple lights, circling Ekko like it’s a battlefield and they’re both waiting for the other to throw the first gauntlet. Ever the fearless leader, he moves to take her hand, and the dance begins. Or maybe it really began years ago. Their moves are relaxed, shifting with the dreamlike mood of the song. It’s maybe a little awkward at first, but they’ve done this before. They can do it again. Platonically, of course.
As platonic as a plum-sized love bite on your best friend’s neck, maybe.
“So,” Jinx says over the music, because her face is hot and her heart is gnawing at her ribs like it’s trying to bust out and she needs to say something. “You haven’t told me how cute I look yet.”
Ekko does that shoulder roll move he always does, violet lights flashing over him just right. “I kind of thought it went without saying.”
Yeah, it’s not the only thing that’s going without saying right now, Little Man. Far from it.
“Well,” she hums, “a girl doesn’t mind hearing it anyway.”
A quizzical look. He twirls her around to the beat, sending her braids spinning. “Even from me?”
“Duh. You think I care what anyone else thinks?” The words came out a bit more raw and vulnerable than the fun, casual vibe she was going for, and her skin feels like it tightens for a moment. Her hand squeezes his shoulder. Damn nerves.
“You look great, Jinx,” Ekko says, which stokes the flame in her belly just as the chorus of the song swells. His eyes flick down. “New top?”
“New to me. Family discount.”
“So you stole it from Vi?”
She adjusts the tie at the back of her neck, ignoring the wildfire that’s now scorching her insides. “And made it actually passable with my capable hands. And some scissors. She oughta be grateful.”
Ekko looks like he wants to say something else about it, but stops himself. “Where is Vi anyway?” he asks. “She here with Caitlyn?”
“Yup.” Jinx nods her head in the direction of the kitchen. Closes her eyes and sways her shoulders as the second verse hits. “Probably busy gazing deep into each other’s eyes and taking turns sighing enchantedly.”
“I bet. That girl’s really something, huh? Y’know, I thought your sister was just giving her a tour of the Lanes, but it seems like it’s getting pretty serious.”
“Something is right. I mean, Jesus, have you seen her?”
“I have. Hard to miss her these days.”
“She’s so…” Jinx shuffles her hands, grasping for the right word to describe Caitlyn. “Glossy. She’s glossy, right? And way too tall.”
“Lots of Pilties are.”
“Yeah, but dude. She’s like if an elf from Lord of the Rings banged a Jaguar. She’s a—a fucking sexy Friesian horse. Look at my poor sister. My own flesh and blood, down so bad it’s not even funny.” She shakes her head like a disapproving abbess. “And you know what the worst part is?”
His eyebrows scrunch up in thought, in that cute way. “She’s actually pretty cool?” he suggests.
“She’s—” Jinx groans, throwing her head back as the synth line crescendos and Ekko captures her hands to spin them both around. “Yeah. She’s alright. Even for a Piltie. Doesn’t that piss you off?”
Man. It’s not like she forgot how infectious his smile is—they never stopped being best friends, after all, and never will—but it still fills her with butterflies and makes her annoyance melt away. Well, it has been a while since she last saw it up close. As in close-close. Close enough for a slow dance. Close enough for him to maybe lean in and press that cute smile against hers, and then… nope, nope, nope. Bad Jinx. He’s just a friend now. Just a friend who used to kiss her stupid and hold her at night after long days of studying and tinkering. Just a friend she used to arch her back against a little whenever he was the big spoon, to tease those cute reactions out of him and rob them both of sleep. Just a friend who’s now casually draping her arms around his neck as they dance. Just. A. Friend!
Why the fuck is she rambling about her sister’s love life again?
“Not really,” Ekko responds, shrugging as his hands lightly grasp her waist. “Not anymore. Most topsiders wouldn’t want to show their face in a place like this. I respect people who swim against the tide. And besides, I’m happy for Vi. Chick looks literally exactly like the girl on that pin-up poster she used to have next to her bed in your old house.”
Jinx snorts, remembering all too well what it was like to grow up bunking with Vi’s gay ass sometimes (and mercifully forgetting about the proximity of their faces for a second). “Oh, God. She totally does. Sis is living the dream.”
For someone who looks like the wildest party she’s ever been to was her own tenth birthday blowout (Jinx just knows there were ponies), Caitlyn does look weirdly at home here. At least when she isn’t banging her tall-ass head on every doorframe. Seriously, what are they feeding those Topside kids? Jinx can’t relate. Even with her favorite platform boots on, Ekko—who hit a cool 5’7 in ninth grade and never made it much farther—is still taller than her. He can still corner her and spin her around so his hips are just above hers when his front brushes dangerously against the small of her back. He can still set the pace when they sway together, her arm coiled back around his neck, fingertips grazing the soft fluff of his snowy hair. And he can still look down at her from behind when he pulls her flush against him and her bare back collides with his chest, arms crossed with his. His long lashes bow over deep brown eyes, his breath warming her neck…
The music, the lights, everything sends Jinx flying back in time, and suddenly they’re not at someone’s lame house party in the west end anymore. They’re sixteen, alone in an empty high school classroom, and she’s asking him to mark her neck with his mouth.
Oh, boy. And there it is, the ring-a-ding-ding of Jinx’s karma check cashing itself in for making fun of Vi so much. She hopes she at least looks a little less gooey-eyed and brainless than her sister. Even if she is—yeah, alright, geez, she admits it—still in love with her ex, she would at least like to maintain some dignity.
The song, and their dance, ends way too soon. When the last notes fade out on a whisper of gibberish, Ekko is still holding her waist, their eyes still locked. Unfortunately, the next track on the playlist is so absurdly unlike the soft, wistful trance of the previous one and so crappy that the magic of the moment fizzles out like a firecracker someone threw a bucket of water on.
They let go of each other, leaving room for Jesus once more. Silence stretches itself between them like a tightrope, and one of them is going to have to cross it before it snaps.
“So, uh,” Ekko finally says, exiling his hands to the unreachable darkness of his jean pockets. “How’ve you been? Feels like we haven’t really talked in a while.”
“Oh, you know. Been getting around.” Jinx grits her teeth behind closed lips. “I mean, not like that. Just been around, or whatever. Existing.” Her masterful command of the English language fully displayed, she casually gulps down a sip of green goo. Something stronger would be really nice right about now. Now that The Song isn’t playing anymore, it’s like a spell has been broken and she needs to actually think about her words again. “How about you?”
“Yeah, I’ve also been… existing. Definitely been busy, too.”
“Totally. Busy. I mean, those fancy Piltover degrees aren’t going to get themselves, right?”
“Is it me, or does early enrollment kind of suck?”
“Oh, it sucks,” Jinx agrees, happy to have reached some common ground in this weirdly awkward conversation for two people who have not only known each other since they were six, but were also just dancing dirty a minute ago. “Everyone treats you like some weird whiz kid, and profs either go super hard on you because they want you to prove your mettle or whatever—”
“Or they go way too light on you because they see you as a kid.”
“Holy shit, yeah. Even after we’ve already been there for a year.”
“Well, if you’re not going to be too busy proving your mettle and all…” Ekko’s hands are now doing all sorts of unknowable things inside his pockets. “I saw some posters on campus for this year’s Tournament of Robotics. It’s being held up in Piltover again. In, like, a month, so this may be a little late, but I know we already have a bunch of old ideas written down, so I was thinking—”
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes! Duh!” It comes out a little more screechy than Jinx had meant it to. Her stupid scratchy voice always betrays her. “I, uh, really hope you were about to ask if I want to build a rockin’ little guy with you again and not, like, if I can give you a ride to the contest or something. Or this is about to be super awkward.”
That smile again. Boy, she needs to figure out how to look at his teeth without imagining the shape of the marks they would leave in the crook of her shoulder. “You’re not driving,” he says. “I want to actually get there in one piece so we can reclaim our rightful spot at the top.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal, boyo.”
Ekko’s grin could power all the lights at the party—hell, the whole damn street. “Cool. That’s cool. I was hoping you’d say yes.” He fiddles with his earlobe, a little nervous habit he’s always had. “I was really hoping you’d be here tonight.”
They fall silent for a long, fragile moment. Jinx breaks the silence the way you break the seal on a jar of fresh honey. Smiles at him. “I missed you too, Ekko.”
I’m sorry, she wants to say to fill the tender quiet that follows. I’m so sorry for avoiding you like a jerk because feelings got too hard. You’re my best friend. One of the only people I have left. I—
“So are you going to drink something or am I going to have to go it alone tonight?” Nice, Jinx. A conversation starter about the drinks. Doesn’t get much more deep and emotionally raw than that.
“I was actually thinking of stealing yours. Appletini, right?”
She snorts. “Be my guest. It’s disgusting.”
And if their fingers brush a millisecond too long when Jinx passes him her cup, never you mind that. Ekko tries a sip and instantly makes the exact same face she did. “Yeah, that… that’ll make you long for the good old days of just regular apple juice in one of those little boxes.”
“Right?”
As he passes the drink of doom back to her like it’s a volatile substance, Ekko’s gaze drifts elsewhere. His eyebrows scrunch for a second. She swears to God, if there’s a cool antique clock or something that’s caught his attention and distracted him from all the compliments she was about to force out of him…
But there is no cool antique clock. Jinx follows Ekko’s line of sight until it reaches… a guy. Some dude with swoopy blonde hair, a face like freshly spread butter, and eyes blue enough to blind you. Eyes that are, unmistakably, fixed in their direction. Okay, scratch the part about Jinx not knowing anyone here. She’s definitely seen this guy around the academy and such, usually hanging with Lux and Zoe. What’s his name again—Ezra something…? Whatever it is, it clearly isn’t very important. Too bad, considering how obsessed topsiders are with names and the status they bring.
“He’s staring at you,” says Ekko, his voice tight.
She bursts out laughing. Are they really doing this? “He’s a Piltie.”
He shrugs. “They got your sister.”
“Yeah, but…” Jinx sighs. “Ekko.”
“Jinx.”
“Ekko-o.”
“What?” His voice takes on that edge she likes, the one that means she’s getting just a little bit of a rise out of him. Now it’s getting fun.
“Seriously? That guy? I haven’t seen someone look more out of place since Caitlyn dragged my sister to her mom’s fundraiser luncheon thingy. I mean, Blondie’s Topside all the way. I bet if we asked him to describe what a homeless person is, he’d look at us confused. Are you actually—”
Ekko throws his hands up, but she notices the corners of his mouth rising. This guy. You don’t fool Jinx, Little Man. “I just don’t mess with that, alright? I didn’t like the way he was looking at you. Can I live?”
“Honestly, if you’re gonna give him shit, I don’t know if he’ll get the message. He looks like nobody’s ever even frowned at him before.”
“I’m not gonna give him shit. When have I ever given someone shit?”
“And I mean, you should know by now Golden Retrievers aren’t my type.”
“I didn’t—ugh.“
Jinx starts giggling, and it’s hard to stop once she does. She’s got him trapped now. Snug as a bug in her web. “I bet Wonderbread over there’s having all sorts of thoughts, though. Ooh, no, you know what? I bet he’s one of those guys who says he wants a crazy girl, but he really just means someone who has quirky taste in ice cream and likes splatter movies and is freaky in bed or whatever. So when he actually gets one, he runs away as soon as he sees the shit that’s in her medicine cabinet.” She looks back at Mr. Mayo one more time, just to see if she can make her eyes flash at him, give him a little scare. But… “Actually, I might have to eat my words. I’m not sure you’re the one who should be jealous right now, LM.”
Realizing his mistake, Ekko’s eyes widen and snap to the wall like a deer hearing a twig crunch under a hunter’s boot. Now he has to avoid both Jinx and the blonde bombshell who’s clearly making eyes at him. Hilarious. If she didn’t know better, she would think Ekko isn’t even aware of how hot he is. Of the mesmerizing, horny-diary-entries-inspiring, lights-up-the-room kind of effect he has on people, and how he could have pretty much any guy or girl he wanted. The way they’re naturally drawn to him, just as they’re naturally inclined to run away from her. Opposite charges.
Man. Letting him go was probably one of the biggest mistakes on the world record-worthy list of blunders that defined Jinx’s life. And the more she thinks about it, the harder it gets to accept that he isn’t hers anymore, and she isn’t his, and she doesn’t have the right to change that because she’s the one who ended things. She’s the one who jumped the gun, all because she was convinced she would eventually ruin their relationship anyway. Ruin him, like she ruins everything.
Why didn’t she listen to Vi, for once in her life?
Ekko, unaware of her internal monologue, bumps his shoulder against the wall in defeat. “You don’t have to worry, alright?” Worry about what? Wait, did he actually just read her damn mind? “I’m not all that into Golden Retrievers either.”
“Oh. Right. Well, good.” And because Jinx’s mood is quickly shifting into I Don’t Care mode, she adds with all the cuteness vested in her, “You want me to give you a hickey to keep him off your back?”
With the memory of the ridiculous way they got together hanging in the air between them, the steely look on her friend’s face is quickly replaced with a sweet, Ekko-y laugh. “Uh-huh. Because that’s totally proven to be a tried and true method.”
“It was definitely one of the… ideas of all time.”
He squints in that incredulous way of his and shifts a little closer, close enough for their arms to touch. “Didn’t you ask for that hickey so you could make your ex jealous, not to get them off your back?”
“As I already told you a bajillion times, no, I did not. I wanted…” Your mouth on my neck. Still do, Little Man. “I wanted to flaunt how over them I was. You know, show off a little. Make everyone think I was this super cool girl who got hickeys from people on the reg.”
“And you sure showed them.” He looks at her in that warm way of his. “You do love a spectacle.”
“We were sixteen!” Jinx shoves him, gently of course. “It made sense at the time, alright? And it was your handiwork, smart guy. Technically, you made the spectacle.”
“Mm, yeah, I don’t know about that. I would definitely call it a team effort.”
“You were at least an accessory to the spectacle, buster. And I mean, it didn’t not work. It just had some… slightly unforeseen results.”
Jinx touches her fingertips to the side of Ekko’s neck, where he had dared her to suck a totally platonic revenge mark two years earlier. She’ll never forget how it bloomed wine red on his dark skin, something she had secretly been curious about. Despite how many times they’ve replicated it since then (countless) and how it felt every single time (amazing), the memory still tingles on her teeth and tongue.
And maybe that crappy kids’ Halloween cocktail had some kick to it after all, or maybe she’s just completely hopeless, because she feels herself being drawn to the heat of his pulse and scoots closer, closer, closer, until her lips are hovering curiously over the most biteable part of his neck and—
“Jinx. Hey.” Ekko stops her onslaught with a large (God, so large) hand over hers. His voice turns soft and serious. “What are you doing? You wanted to break up.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Jinx protests, because it is ridiculous. The fact that it’s true doesn’t make it any less so. She moves Ekko’s hand and lets it casually trail down her own throat. Just for funsies. “Nope. Don’t know what you’re talking about. Why would I ever do that?”
That one muscle in his cheek twitches, letting her know he’s either holding back a smile or getting tired of her shenanigans. Or both. “If I remember right, you said things got too crazy and we were better off as friends.”
“Friends who make out sometimes,” she corrects, stirring her drink with an acrylic nail and watching the green swirlies go round and round.
“But still. Just friends.”
“For now! Not forever.”
Ekko splays his hand across her collarbone, one finger pinching at her choker. Oh, yeah. More of that, please. “Did you say that?” he asks as Jinx lifts her chin in response to his touch. “Or did you just think it and expect me to dramatically refuse to let you go and sweep you off your feet all over again?”
“I’m…” The words get lost on Jinx’s tongue and she scrambles to find them. With a groan, she drops Ekko’s hand like a hot potato and adjusts her choker, because being confronted with her own bad decisions is killing the sexy mood. “Yes. No. I don’t know, okay? Didn’t we agree it was more of a mutual destruction kinda thing than a…” A Jinx thing. A classic Jinxian fuck-up. An advanced lesson in Jinxinese. They all would have been accurate. “A me thing?”
“I didn’t say it was specifically a you thing,” Ekko assures her. “It was just a thing.”
“So what are we even talking about?” Jinx throws her hands up, exasperated. She can feel her eyes start to sting, posing a serious threat to her mascara. Great. Being the girl crying for her ex at a stupid house party was just about the last thing she hadn’t crossed off on her bucket list of failures yet. With her luck, Caitlyn will see and try to give her love advice again. And that, Jinx fears, would be the final trigger for her to start her killing spree. She kicks at the ground. “Everyone leaves, Ekko. Everyone leaves and everything ends, and it’s always my fault. I’m sick of it. And I—I hate the fact that you didn’t even put up a fight!”
“Put up a fight? You mean when you…?”
Jinx doesn’t smoke (a deeply hypocritical lesson from Silco that decided to stick), but she considers bumming a cigarette from someone anyway just so she can bite down on it and let the ash cover her tongue. Anything to replace the sour taste in her mouth. She tries to squish the thought with a mental fly swatter. Thankfully, her best friend continues before she can think herself into a deeper hole.
“Jinx,” Ekko says with all his tenderness. “I didn’t fight you when you asked to just be friends because I wanted you to have your space. You were still rebuilding things with Vi and Vander after all that shit with Silco, finally getting on the right meds, dealing with… everything. It would have killed me if being with me became an unnecessary source of stress for you. I just wanted to keep hanging out with you guys. So the last thing I wanted to do was throw a fit about it and risk losing you completely. Even if…”
Jinx blinks slowly, still fighting to protect her eyeliner from the threat of invading tears. “Even if what?”
He groans. “Nevermind.”
“Well, now I’m curious.”
“It’s stupid and you’re going to laugh and then I’ll feel even stupider.”
She tuts, but a little shard breaks off her heart when he says it. Ekko is so far from stupid. “Okay, Mr. Accelerated Scholarship To Piltover U At Seventeen, No Biggie. How stupid can it possibly be?”
Ekko looks at her. “After that conversation,” he says slowly, weighing each word, “after we agreed to just be friends again, I walked out of The Last Drop and trekked all the way to Firelight House. Alone. I jumped the fence and climbed the tree, the big one in the garden, and…”
“And?”
“I cried like a little kid. The whole night. Ended up falling asleep in that treetop. And I left my damn jacket at the bar on purpose, hoping you’d come over to return it and magically change your mind. And I’d fix all the problems and that’d be that.”
A million thoughts in a million different colors swirl through Jinx’s head, but she only manages to grasp onto one of them. “I didn’t return your jacket.”
“No. Vi did. We talked. I narrowly avoided getting my ass whooped for hurting you. Told her I was the one who’d been hurt.” He combs a palm over his locs, shaking his head. “I feel like shit for saying that. Like it didn’t suck for both of us. Oh yeah, and I got a cold from sleeping in a tree without a jacket in late November. That’s the stupid part, mostly.”
Jinx hadn’t realized it, but they’ve been drifting steadily closer throughout the conversation. She’s in no way a stranger to invading Ekko’s personal space (in fact, she’s always considered it more of a shared space), but this feels different. Intimate. Honest.
He left a part of his life in mine, hoping I would invite him back in. Jinx’s mind reels, her heart doing Olympic level pole vaults. Words circle her tongue, so busy fighting each other for the chance to be said that none of them come out for a long moment. Finally, one wins out.
“I’m sorry.”
It’s funny. For someone with a fuck-up record as consistent as hers, Jinx rarely manages to actually say the word sorry. Apologies usually come in other forms with her. What did that love language shit she read about online mention again? Acts of service? Gifts? Yeah, that’s the stuff. She’ll fix up Vi’s piece of crap car for a prank gone too far, cover Vander’s shift at the Drop for a crate of smashed glasses. And subject everyone to tackle hugs, of course. But words—sincere, non-sarcastic ones… those are tough. And Ekko knows that.
He gazes at her. “What for?”
“For totally avoiding you in the last month,” Jinx admits. “I guess I was having a little freak-out. Kind of like the one I had when I dumped you. Now, those were the real lessons in stupidity. Beats your sad tree story by a country mile.”
“Thanks. Hearing that means a lot.” He looks down at his sneakers, his eyes so big and wet and happy that Jinx has to fight the urge to pounce on him like an unspayed cat. “Man, I missed you.”
“Me too.” And because she feels like a middle schooler shuffling her feet, about to slip a ‘Do you like me? Check yes or no’ letter into her crush’s locker, she tries for her best sultry gaze. Jury’s still out on whether it works. “So. What'd you miss about me?”
“Your terrible jokes, for one.”
“Oh, ha-ha. I bet you did.”
“And that sarcasm right there, too.” Ekko’s fond smile makes Jinx feel soft as warm toffee. “I missed the way your hair sticks to you fresh out of the shower. Or the rain.”
“I kind of love the rain.”
“I know you do. I mean, I didn’t see any other kids running to the playground with a big smile on their face every time it started pouring.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Remember we got sent home that time because you challenged me to that mudfight in the wet sandpit? Benzo almost threw us both straight in the dryer.”
“Wow. Yeah. Good memory.”
“Good memories.” Ekko’s hand brushes hers in a way that’s surely accidental. His eyes wander over her body in a way that’s definitely less so. “I missed these ridiculous little tops you always wear, even in the middle of winter.”
“What’s wrong with my top?” Jinx huffs, feigning indignation like a scandalized lady. But she can’t help twirling a little, giving him a view of her outrageously bare shoulders and back.
“Nothing!” He puts his hands up, but that smirk is killing her. “I’m not hating. I know you don’t mind the attention. Just… gets a lot of it, is all.”
“Oh, really?” Her grin grows. “So that’s what you’re getting all up in a twist about? My savior. Always there to rescue me from blonde twinks at house parties. Whatever would I do without—”
And that’s about as far as she gets to go with her teasing before Ekko backs her into the wall, bracketing his arm over her head. It sets little wildfires all over her, burning in all the right places.
“You are being so fucking difficult, you know that?” His tone would sound serious to anyone but Jinx, but she knows her man. She knows the way the corners of his mouth tug up like he wouldn’t want her any other way.
“What, you want me to be easy instead?”
For a brief, glorious moment, they stare each other down. Oh, this is fun. A lot like the staring contests they used to have whenever they needed to resolve some petty squabble as kids. Except this time—Jinx hopes—with a different outcome than one of them making a funny face and collapsing together in giggles. Well, maybe the collapsing part can stay.
When Jinx sips her fake Appletini, Ekko finally gives in. “Are you going to put that awful drink down?”
“Depends. Are you going to kiss me?”
She leans back, enjoying the dumb look on his face. But then he sighs and follows her, stepping even closer. Close enough to run his hands down her braids and drape them over her naked shoulders; a deep, primal part of her wishes he would tug them. His voice drops to that soft, soft whisper that would have really gotten Jinx going if she wasn’t already a lit fuse just waiting to blow.
“Man, I really wish you would have asked me that somewhere that’s not ten feet within Vi’s ass kicking range.”
“Psh, you’re fine. She’s got a big boobed chew toy keeping her busy.”
Ekko laughs. “You think so?”
“I’ve got her well trained.” Jinx casts a glance across the room at Vi and Caitlyn, holding hands, deep in conversation about whatever the actual fuck it is they have in common. They look happy. Jinx softens. “Turns out you stop caring about a lot of other shit when you’re crazy in love.”
“Yeah,” Ekko says, close enough now that she has to look up to meet his eyes. They’re big and brown and just as stupidly beautiful as always. “I know.”
And if those words don’t get Jinx’s heart feeling like a shooting star, nothing ever will. Man, this boy does not play fair. Then again, neither does she. Maybe that’s why they go together so well. Powder Keg and Little Man. Jinx and Ekko. Forever and always.
He watches her take a final long, deliberate sip of her garbage drink. Then she says, “I’m going to put this down now.”
Pouring the last of the green sludge into the nearest potted plant and dumping the cup counts as putting it down, right? Well, whatever. The monstera will live. Probably.
And then it’s just the two of them. Jinx and Ekko and whatever comes next. Strong hands circle her waist and she can’t believe she almost forgot how good it feels when they nearly reach all the way around. When he presses his fingers into the dip under her ribs just right. When he holds her gently up against the wall, the heels of her platforms rising an inch or two. The feeling is familiar and somehow brand new at the same time, sending hot sparks dancing across her skin. Most of all, it’s perfect. Jinx feels like a blooming flower—no, a whole summer garden. Like the one they used to play in down at Firelight House when they were little rugrats, a buttery sun beaming down on them. She drapes her arms around his neck. There’s a tingly magic to the anticipation; the slow, deliberate touches, the looking at each other. Like easing back into an old dance they never forgot the steps to. His eyes start kissing her long before his mouth does.
But it’s pretty freaking sweet when his mouth gets there, too.
Hands, legs, lips; all the parts come together exactly as they should. Finally. Jinx and Ekko kiss like something might spark painfully between them if they part, shooting through their bones like lightning rods and shocking them both back to reality. They kiss without shame, like they’ve been waiting a hundred years. Well, in teen years, they basically have. Jinx, at least, has been trapped in a prison of her own making for at least that long. On some sort of hellish self-imposed hippie retreat of ascetic solitude, all because she didn’t trust herself enough to be loved. To love in return. Because Jinx loving has never not led to disaster.
But it doesn’t matter now. How could it when her guy’s lips are on hers and her knee is hugging his inner thigh and their hips lock together as if built to slide into place? It’s funny; his mouth is on hers for five seconds, and she starts to actually believe this could be something. Something that’ll last this time. Ekko has always been a goddamn human radiator, and his sunlight floods her body with warmth. Everyone else at the party, dancing and arguing and drinking around them, may as well be old furniture someone forgot to clear out. She doesn’t want to deal with them right now. It’s not like they’re the only kissing couple in here anyway. Wait, did she say couple?
Oh, whatever.
Jinx’s heart jumps like it’s trying to break out and reach his, stars swimming behind her eyes. Her tongue presses into his over and over, getting reacquainted with his mouth. Their lips meet and part and meet again, sticky with Jinx’s lipstick and hot with all those months of pining. She sneaks a peek at Ekko through half-closed lids, long enough to spot a smudged trace of Silky Matte in smoked purple on the side of his lips, and has to resist the urge to swipe on a fresh layer and mark the boy’s whole face like a cartoon. Giddy. She’s so giddy. His hands roam deliciously over her exposed back, palming the ties of her DIY’d top (the structural integrity of which she’s frankly unsure about, since she didn’t exactly think about makeout-proofing it, but that’s a problem for Future Jinx). Her fingers dance their way under that criminally cropped shirt of his, feeling the soft sinews of his waist and back and digging her acrylics in just enough.
The more Ekko’s arms tighten around her, the more their breakup starts to feel like something that happened in another life, her reasons for it like phony lines someone else wrote for her to recite. How could she ever give up on this? She swears she can feel his pulse through his lips when they collide with hers, every sticky little noise saying so much. Love is a sharp, hot fireball in Jinx’s chest and she’s more drunk from its heat than all the crappy cocktails in the world. Oh, this is everything. This is what she wants. She wants and wants and wants so much that she has to break the kiss for a second to catch her breath. A soft peck finds Jinx’s cheek, and Ekko’s nose nuzzles into her.
“Better off as friends, you said?” The words prickle at her sensitive lips, and she grins.
“Actually, you did,” he says with a smirk back. “And I believe the word you used was ‘besties.’”
“Psh. The bestest besties.”
They collapse into a hug, Jinx burying her face in the crook of Ekko’s neck, and it’s almost like slow dancing again. She runs her hands up and down his arms, fingertips tracing his skin like she’s marking him with a paintbrush. In her mind, she is. Using all the colors of the rainbow. She draws a heart here, a shooting star there; her name everywhere (maybe even the name she left behind years ago, too, just for old times’ sake). And she wants him to mark her in return, just like he did on the day of The Great Hickey Incident two years ago, but all over. She wants to be loved everywhere.
In her kiss-drunk dizziness, Jinx faintly thinks that Ekko was right. She always did love a spectacle. He hums her name into her hair before drawing back, but only just far enough to nip at her neck. Oh, yeah. That’s the good stuff. She missed the warmth of his lips already. One kiss, then another, tracing that one long muscle down her throat…
She’s just about to close her eyes and get comfy when she catches a flash of ice blue in her periphery, and her eyes lock onto Caitlyn’s. Man, that woman has the gaze of a hunter. The sleek grey wolf to Vi’s Border Collie. They’re still hanging around the kitchen across the room, as close as two halves of a clam. Looks like Ekko didn’t need to worry about being seen macking on Jinx; her older sister is leaning over a big ugly kitchen island, in the heat of an animated discussion with some huge, kind-eyed dude across from them.
It’s funny. There was a time when Jinx would have interpreted the arm draped around Vi’s waist when Caitlyn fixes her eyes on her as a challenge. A mean boast, claws digging into Vi’s flesh as if to say that this Piltie’s here to stay and there’s nothing Jinx can do to keep her from stealing everyone and everything she loves. But things like that don’t set her off anymore. The Caitlyn-shaped hole she used to throw all those dark thoughts into has closed up, and her brain no longer scribbles and scratches hate onto the topsider’s face whenever she gets close to her sister. Jinx just doesn’t have it in her anymore. Something in her heart has shifted. She’s been so preoccupied making everything into a battle, trying to get ahead of the curve in every relationship so she doesn’t get hurt, and turning love into a giant zero-sum game, that she forgot she doesn’t really want to win. Deep down, she just wants to be understood.
So when Caitlyn raises her eyebrows at them with the tiniest of smiles, as if to say Didn’t I tell you?, Jinx rolls her eyes and shrugs back. Yeah, yeah, so you had a point, lady. Don’t go getting a big head about it.
Everything’s changing tonight, isn’t it? Those words would have scared the shit out of Jinx not too long ago. And the idea is still kind of spooky. But she doesn’t hate it. She really doesn’t. How could she with the soft way Ekko looks at her now, as he pulls away from kissing her neck? They lean in, foreheads touching. Sparks bursting. But her heart is strangely calm, at ease. Like this was meant to be.
“Listen, Jinx,” Ekko says with a gravelly voice that scratches just the right itch in her brain. “I’m not going to do this dance with you again if you run away from me.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t feel like running anymore.” Jinx places a soft, slow kiss under his ear, the sweet spot she’s come to consider hers. Then she grabs both his hands and tugs. “Unless it’s out of here. Right now. Please, I cannot listen to another Eurotrance mix.”
Ekko’s grin illuminates the world. “Can I at least grab my jacket first?”
“You better, because I’m going to wear it.”
“Do I have a say in this?”
She kisses his smile with hers. “Girlfriend privilege.”
You
10:34 PM
don’t wait up for me
get private chauffeured back or smth lol
have fun u crazy kids 🫶
fat hands (affectionate)
10:36 PM
wait did you leave???
everything cool? will you be okay to get home?
You
10:37 PM
i willllll omg dw
ilysm
don’t need a ride
fat hands (affectionate)
10:37 PM
ok. text me when you get back safe!
ily
You
10:38 PM
yesss i know the deal
sry i couldn’t hang long
i will make it up to u
by letting u take me n little man for boba tmrw 😇💞
fat hands (affectionate)
10:38 PM
WHAT????
✓ Read 02:19 AM