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beth-march · 3 years

Note

hey! if you’re still taking requests at all: I loved the way you handled Lexi’s insecurity around being sexually inexperienced and her worry over Fez potentially losing interest because of it. I would be really interested to see you handle Fez’s possible insecurity around people thinking he’s not as smart as her (based on the stuff Rue and Nate said about him in season 1 + the new info about his head injury)

Summary:

“You’re not stupid, Fez. You’re the furthest thing from stupid,” she says. He’s reminded of a maths teacher with kind, pitying eyes, talking about his potential and how he needed to be better with homework if he wanted to meet it.

Of course, this was a memory from the days before his memory was vulnerable to loss. A memory from the days before a scar curved around his scalp.

A/N:

Hi! I'm definitely still taking requests. Thanks so much for your prompt, this is such a good one too! I hope you enjoy!

Read under the cut or on Ao3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/36829093

There is a specific intimacy involved in talking like this. In the quiet, in the dark. In a place where nothing exists in the world but her voice, and he doesn’t even have the jumble of their limbs to moor him to reality. Where his mind fills in the gaps.

He can picture her in her bed, enveloped by her dusky pink sheets. Her face scrubbed clean of makeup, fresh and dewy with moisturiser and rosehip oil. Her phone pressed against her cheek, smiling in that bright, sparkly way she reserves for him.

A subdued version of it, to be sure, when Lexi is so sleepy. But Fez is confident that her smile is no less dazzling for it, and he envies the pillow she smothers her face in.

“Cassie won’t stop talking about the graduation party next weekend,” Lexi is telling him softly. “You’d think the world was ending, the way she talks about the class having one last night together, how they have to make it count.”

“Shit, I can’t believe half them kids even got through to graduation, to be honest.”

“It’s like a miracle, right?” she giggles.

“For real,” Fez says. “A fuckin’ miracle.”

“I was wondering if you might want to come to the party?”

“You was wonderin’, or your whacked out friends was wonderin’?”

Lexi laughs. “No, I was wondering. I do get the appeal of having one last hurrah, and I am excited to go, but I don’t think it’d be nearly as fun without you.”

They have been in a relationship since January. It should not be so staggering to hear her say sweet things about him anymore, but the novelty is unyielding. Her affection is so foreign he cannot bring himself to expect it, no matter how many months pass.

Fez fumbles for an appropriately appreciative answer, and somehow lands on, “The fuck is ‘hurrah’ about? Why you always talkin’ like you in a black and white movie, huh?”

“Fez!” Lexi huffs. His mind traces what his eyes cannot see - the indignant crease between her eyebrows, the rosy flush on her scrunched cheeks. She probably has a hand over her face, trying to hide her embarrassment. He grins at the thought.

“I’m only playin’, Lex, you know you cute.”

“I know no such thing,” she mumbles.

“Well, I know you cute,” Fez amends. “’Course I’ll come to the party. No selling or nothin’, I’ll just be with you, aight? Watchin’ all the crazy shit go down.”

Fez has no doubt that it will be a tumultuous night. A last hurrah, indeed. There’s a lot of appeal in the idea of stowing away in a corner somewhere with his girl, watching it unfold like a pair of flies on the wall.

“It’s going to be such a mess,” Lexi says, but she seems more excited than worried, and Fez finds that he’s sharing in her excitement.

When Fez thinks of the first night that he spent with Lexi, the memories play out in golden hues. He recalls the fire dancing in the window behind them, and the lamplight glistening along the weavings of her braids, and the glimmer of sunshine in her smile.

That night is a haze of gold. It splinters with crimson at the end, but this is a disruption, an incidental blip, something he rarely thinks of, amidst all the warmth.

This party is cold and blue. A scene written by moonlight.

If this is an omen for something, Fez is not sure what.

The party has barely begun, and it has already dissolved into chaos. People bustle around in drunken deliriums, dancing and yelling and laughing, swinging back bottles of alcohol, puffing from joints. Smoke blurs the edges of everything.

“A new record?” Lexi suggests, as they take in the calamity.

“I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with these kids,” Fez says, pulling Lexi to the outskirts of the crowd, carrying her through the sea of people. “I ain’t never seen another group so mad fucked. The hell was going on the year they were born?”

“It must’ve been something in the water,” Lexi says, amused.

There’s a loud commotion from outside, and she turns around in time to see Cassie clambering atop a table in the backyard, beer bong in hand. The wind whips her skirt as she begins to chug, while the rest of the girls - Maddy, Kat, Jules, and Rue - cheer her on, dancing around and hollering as the foamy alcohol slips down the funnel.

“Case in point,” Lexi says, but her exasperation is clearly fond.

By the time they’ve joined the others, Cassie has pulled the tube from her lips with a gasp, and beer froths over the top, slips out of her mouth and all over her dress.

“You can’t chug for shit, kid,” Fez calls.

“Don’t be mean, Fez!” Cassie cries, laughing as she bats at her wet face.

All of the others whirl around with big smiles, squealing their greetings. Fez doesn’t relish giving up his hold of Lexi, but he relinquishes her so that she can be swept up in hugs from her friends. It’s nice to see them so excited to see her - relatable, really.

Once the girls have made their rounds, Lexi is drifting back towards him, and Fez is grateful that this is her reflex. He likes to have her by his side. Except, standing paired together like this, he becomes aware that they are being stared at, judged as a unit.

Maddy’s face is alight with a devilish grin.

“You brought Fezco!” she exclaims. “Bitch, I love you.”

“Don’t get any ideas! He’s here as my boyfriend, not your drug dealer.”

“Are you saying he can’t multitask?!”

It seems that everyone is staring at him now, and Fez isn’t surprised, except for the fact that he probably should’ve prepared for this better. Lexi had talked about bringing him along to keep her company, and he hadn’t thought twice about compliance. He hadn’t thought about sales, or the fact that his very presence around parties like this one implies that he’s dealing. He realises he’s been stupid not to bring anything at all.

“Sorry, y’all,” he says, with a shrug. “I ain’t got shit on me to offer.”

A cacophony of groans follows, but the way the girls exaggerate their whining is humorous, and Fez keeps hold of his smile, knowing they’re only joking.

But then - “Dude, are you for real?”

There’s sincere annoyance in the voice. Fez glances up and finds a teenage boy loitering just outside the group. He’s got that disdainful look about him, the ease of arrogance in a boy brought up to believe he’s entitled to everything. Fez is a good judge of character, but realises Kat must not be, for the way that she slips over to take his arm.

“Hey there, Greg,” she starts to say, something playful in her gaze, but he ignores her.

“Fezco?” he says expectantly.

“I’m for real, bro,” Fez answers. “What other reason I got to say it?”

“What other reason do you have to come here?”

The silence that overcomes the group seems improbable, given the raucousness of the party that continues so close by. Misguided as they are, Fez knows these girls to have good hearts, and it’s evident in this moment, with all of their stricken faces.

Lexi is the exception. She is positively livid. She surges forth, and for a ludicrous moment Fez thinks she’s actually going to try to hit the boy, but she’s only angling herself closer to him, as though she is trying to shield him with her body. A hilarious thought, given how much smaller she is than him, but Fez is appreciative of her devotion, regardless.

“Shut the fuck up, Greg,” Lexi says coldly. “Fez has every reason to be here.”

“Oh, who are you kidding, Lexi? We all know there’s only one reason Fez hangs around high school parties, and it’s to deal drugs. That’s all the retard is good for.”

For Fez, it’s like water off a duck’s back. Having lived the life he has, he doesn’t have room for softness, and he barely notices insults being hurled in his face. But Lexi is nothing if not soft, and when this softness is prodded, she becomes hard.

He doesn’t react in time to restrain her - she strides towards Greg until she’s in his face.

“Excuse me?!” she seethes. “What gives you the right to be so fucking rude? If you want to go there, we can fucking go there, Greg, but everyone knows the truth about how you became valedictorian, and just how badly you fried your brain in the process.”

Greg chuckles, the kind of low chuckle that’s supposed to be unbothered, but Fez can see that he’s been thrown by Lexi’s accusation, for the way he backs away from her, the tremble at the corner of his mouth. He doesn’t blame the guy - Lexi can be scary.

“C’mon, Lexi, you’re a smart girl,” Greg says. “Way too smart for fuckin’ Fez. We both know that it’s only a matter of time before you wake up and see what everyone else does.”

A harsh, brittle laugh escapes her. It sounds nothing at all like Lexi.

“I’m not even going to dignify that with a fucking response,” she declares. “It’s ludicrous, and you’re a fucking idiot. Now leave, and stay the fuck away from us.”

From there, the standoff is brief.

“Psycho bitch,” Greg mutters as he scampers away.

This is what brings Fez back to reality. An urge to defend Lexi rises with a throbbing sort of insistence, because nobody gets to disrespect his girl like that, but he stifles it, because he doesn’t want to make a bigger deal of this than what is necessary, and he doesn't want to ruin these girls’ night, and he knows Lexi doesn’t need him to fight her battles. Greg is already gone, anyway, tail between his legs, darting inside the house for refuge in whoever’s leaving him so unchecked.

As they watch him leave, they are quiet. Everything is charged, and Fez knows why.

There’s an element of truth in what Greg has said. Everybody knows it, and nobody speaks it aloud, but now it has been voiced and they’re unsure about what to do with the shape of candour in the air. Fez is embarrassed, though he knows nobody could tell, his poker face is so firm. It is withstanding a lot - a whole group of people staring at him and reflecting on how much smarter his girlfriend is than him.

Lexi spins to face him, and her eyes are full of despair.

“Fez,” she says, with ardour. “I’m so sorry - ”

“Well, that was a strung out adderall kid if I ever fuckin’ saw one,” Fez drawls. “What the fuck, man? Those eyeballs gonna twitch outta his skull soon, he best watch himself.”

It has the intended effect - Lexi’s friends burst into laughter. The tension is undone, and in its place they giggle with conspiracy, whispering about Greg. It takes very little time for the subject to change entirely, and for that, Fez is grateful.

But Lexi’s gaze doesn’t waver. Not for the whole night. Nor does her anguish.

Last to arrive, first to leave - Fez isn’t sure that he expected to be that type of couple, but he doesn’t think any of the girls blame him for offering an early reprieve to Lexi.

It is clear that she is miserable, stewing in anger so lurid it places her well beyond hope of having a good time. The hold she has on her red solo cup is so fierce it keeps pinching in the middle, leaving dents in the plastic every time she smooths it out.

So Fez places a hand on her waist, leans in close. “You wanna just cut, baby?”

Lexi nods. The gesture feels intimate when they’re pressed together in a room full of bustling people, so close he feels the bop of her head against his face.

They don’t even make it all the way out the front garden before Lexi is whirling on him, eyes glistening with tears. “I can’t believe what that asshole said about you. I’m so, so sorry. He has no idea what the fuck he’s talking about. You know that, right?”

“S’all good, Lex,” Fez tries to assure her, with a smile that doesn’t reflect the ugly twist of feelings in his gut. “It wasn’t nothin’ I hadn’t heard before. It’s chill.”

“What do you mean?” Lexi asks. A golden glow ripples along her hair as they pass a street light, but she must see something in his eyes that concerns her, because she grabs hold of his elbow and pulls him back somewhere shrouded in darkness.

Fez sighs. She’s found a shadowy corner to interrogate him on, and he’s probably going to cave, because she’s so insistent, and he’s so indulgent.

“What are you talking about?” she prompts, raising an eyebrow at him.

“It’s not like he said no out of pocket shit,” Fez murmurs.

“He called you a retard! He said I was too smart for you!”

“He said what everybody already knows.”

He hears her sharp exhale, watches the horror come to life in her eyes. Lexi looks devastated, a familiar expression, reminiscent of a mirror, before Fez learned not to let himself dwell on such things. Being in love is a terrible sort of empathy, he’s found.

“Do you really believe that?” Lexi whispers.

He says nothing. He only stares, and does his best to cope with what flares in her eyes.

Of course, this was a memory from the days before his memory was vulnerable to loss. A memory from the days before a scar curved around his scalp.

“Look, Lex,” he murmurs. “It’s real sweet you care, but I ain’t tryna deny shit. It is what it is. Even Rue said somethin’ about it before.”

Fez has no idea why he mentions this. He’s so unguarded with Lexi that he often finds himself spilling things he knows he shouldn’t, for once thoughtless in his conduct.

The way that Lexi stiffens concerns him. Fez thinks he might have to sort the girls out of another fight, and he doesn’t like to do this, because Rue always gets upset whenever she’s reminded of how his ultimate allegiance has changed.

“What did she say?” Lexi demands.

“It don’t matter. I wasn’t sellin’ to her, she was pissed.”

“If it didn’t matter, you wouldn’t have brought it up,” she insists. “What did she say?”

You’re a fucking drop out drug dealer with seven functioning fucking brain cells!

Later, Fez told Rue that he hadn’t paid attention to what she said, that he never does when it comes to drug addicts. The thing is, he does pay attention to friends.

Lexi is still looking at him expectantly. So Fez relents, telling her, “She was just talkin’ shit, tryna find an in, y’know? Said I only had seven brain cells, said sorry for it like a week later. Ain’t no big deal.”

He can tell that Lexi disagrees with this assessment. “I’m going to fucking kill her.”

“Lex - ”

“No!” she says, flinging her hands out, silencing him. “No, this is not okay! I’m not going to just stand by and let people talk to you like that! It’s not right!”

Things are rarely right, in Fez’s world. He doesn’t know how to tell Lexi this - he would never call her naive, but he knows she would be appalled by some of the things he has heard, he knows that she would be shaken to her core.

And he knows that she would not be deterred, if she knew. She would try to fight for him, no matter what she was up against.

“You’re easily one of the smartest people I know!” Lexi continues. “I have never known another person who is as deliberate in what they do as you. Everything you do is calculated, strategic, I see it, I see how careful you’re always being. You can pick your battles in this way I don’t understand, like you can give up your own feelings in favour of doing what’s practical, and that’s so impressive. Not to mention how perceptive you are, you can watch any person for five minutes and you’ve just figured them out! You know what to expect from them, you know how to deal with them. You know what to say to make me stop freaking out about whatever they did to me.”

This happens sometimes. Lexi loves to babble with enthusiasm about things she’s passionate about, but she also likes to ramble with vigour over the things she gets angry about. Before Fez, she had no real avenue to do either of these things - but now, he finds himself being a listening ear for her rants every other week.

He’s never minded, because he cares about the things she cares about, and he always agrees with everything she says. It’s only now that he finds himself doubtful of her, and doubtful less because she’s defending him but more because she is making sense.

It is bewildering. Lexi is making valid arguments about his intelligence. She doesn’t talk about academia, she doesn’t shroud her sentiment with vague denial, with but of course you’re smart - she’s giving him specifics, telling him things she’s observed. Fez knows how careful he has to be in his thinking, in his actions, but it’s never occurred to him before that this is a strength, a sign of intelligence - he’s only ever seen it as necessary.

Fez is gaping at her, like a fish, really countering everything she is saying, because he can imagine how vacant his expression must be. “Lexi…” he mumbles.

“It’s true, and you know it,” she insists, sniffling, because she’s worked herself up. “I’m just so sorry that anyone could be so cruel to you.”

“I don’t want you worrying about this no more, okay?” Fez says, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I’m tellin’ you, shit like that don’t bother me. I got a tough skin. I don’t give a fuck if they starin’ at me, thinking you smarter than me.”

His intention is to calm her down, but this only sets her off again.

“Who the fuck is anyone at my school to say a thing to you?” Lexi demands. “You were running a business and a family at the same age that they were trying out for little league football and calling each other slurs over online video game servers!”

“Okay, baby, okay,” Fez says, and he realises that he’s biting back a smile. Lexi is all of five foot four, and anger looks so funny and pouty when scrunching up her sweet, pretty face, and she’s stomping around and practically writhing with anger. He slips his arms around her, letting her muffle her grumbles into his chest.

“Do you honestly think that a stupid person could run a drug business from the age of twelve and still have it running this many years later?” she continues.

“Okay, Lex,” Fez repeats, a bit more insistently, jostling her. “I get it. I ain’t stupid.”

He’s trying to play it off like he’s humouring her, like he’s laughing at her, like she’s gotten overworked and it’s something for them both to be amused by. But he just doesn’t know how to thank her. He smothers the crown of her head with kisses, and hopes she might understand what he cannot say - that nobody has been on his team like this before. Nobody sees him like she does, nobody cares.

“No,” Lexi says adamantly. “You aren’t.”

Returning home is a quiet affair. It is a peaceful quiet, punctuated by something pensive, because neither can stop thinking of what the other has said. Affection resides, too - Fez places his hand atop her knee, runs his thumb over the groove as he drives.

Lexi takes hold of his hand once they’re both out of the car, so that they have to amble through the doorway together. She makes straight for the kitchen, and Fez can’t help but smile - only Lexi would come home from a party of such debauchery and immediately make a cup of herbal tea. She pulls out the hot chocolate for him, which he appreciates, because however much he’s tried, he doesn’t share in her love for peppermint tea.

Her hands are shaking when she pulls mugs from the cupboards. Fez notices the shake in her wrists and frowns. He realises that she’s still thinking about it.

“What’s goin’ on up here?” he asks, brushing his fingers over her temple.

He catches the hair there, tucks it behind her ear. She looks up at him as he does so, and the ardour in her eyes is beautiful. She loves him, he knows, and he never thought he could trust this, but he does. He knows she loves him.

“Nothing,” she tells him. “I was just thinking about that time you helped me with my maths homework. I would’ve failed that test if you hadn’t shown me how to do it.”

If Fez didn’t have such confidence in her sincerity, he thinks he’d be annoyed by her transparency in trying to reassure him. As it is, he only chuckles. He finds himself understanding why it is that she’s always so flustered whenever he peppers her with compliments - the attention is a startling, overwhelming thing.

“You’re really good with numbers,” Lexi adds. “With the business and everything, too.”

Lost in thought, Fez is silent. He watches as Lexi unlaces the string of the teabag, admires the deftness of her fingers as she tugs it along the ceramic.

“You know, in school… I did real good with numbers,” he admits.

Her hands go still. She turns towards him, and he meets her eyes, grateful to find the warmth written there. He feels enveloped by her, even when they aren’t touching.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Before… you know…”

Lexi places a hand on his scalp. Her fingers, her sweet fingers, run along his scar.

Fez shudders.

“Sorry,” she says, yanking her hand away, but he grabs hold of her wrist, keeping her in place. He isn’t sure why - his reflex is always violent, if this territory is ever so much as skirted by another. He never imagined inviting someone to linger in the splay of ugliness. But her touch is like a balm, a remedy he never knew to want.

“I dunno if it actually fucked my head up for real,” Fez says quietly. “Nobody ever told me for sure. Maybe I’m just tryna find an excuse.”

“You don’t have anything to find an excuse for,” Lexi answers. “But if you feel a difference in yourself from before it happened, maybe it’s worth checking out.”

“That shit went down a long time ago. I couldn’t even tell you how I used to be. I know I didn’t always get so many fuckin’ migraines, but…”

He trails off. He doesn’t know what he’s trying to say.

It’s a lucky thing that Lexi always understands him so well.

“It doesn’t matter,” she says softly. “It hasn’t made you any less smart.”

Fez wants to make a joke. He wants to do something to dilute the muchness of what he feels. But he is helpless to the ache of his relief, helpless to resist his urge to express it with love. It is all he can do to wrap her in his arms, to bury his face in her hair.

He thinks of the mind resting beneath these pretty curls. Lexi is the most intelligent person he has ever met, and he knows she doesn’t do anything without reason. There's a reason for her presence here, in his kitchen, in his arms.

He holds onto the comfort of this, and holds her all the closer.

#euphoria #fez x lexi #fezco x lexi #lexi howard #fezco #fexi #lezco #lexi x fez #lexi x fezco #belle writes #this is honestly so convoluted because i have so many thoughts

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