Chapter Text
“Wait.”
Yaz pauses, hand still raised to knock and turns back to look at her friend… her girlfriend . For the next few days, at least.
Jordyn reaches out and grabs onto Yaz’s other hand. Yaz watches as their hands slot together with a weird sort of fascination. The contact is still new and not quite comfortable yet and it sends a little zing of electricity up her arm. She lets her gaze run up the arm looped around her own, until she reaches Jordyn’s face. She’s giving Yaz an odd, searching look above a slightly awkward smile.
Yaz forces herself to take a steadying breath, and can feel through their connected hands as Jordyn mirrors her. Ready as they’ll ever be, they both turn back to face the door.
Yaz knocks.
A fake girlfriend is not something Yaz had put much thought, if any, into acquiring. It had just happened. It was as if she’d been possessed by some Hallmark-movie demon which had ulterior motives.
She’d been friends with Bill and Clara for years, the three of them a little trio, and then Bill had brought Jordyn along and that had been that. Although Jordyn had always been a little… odd. Awkward, if Yaz was being honest. Jordyn had always avoided being alone with her, Jordyn could never quite meet her eye, Jordyn, who trips over her own feet and tongue whenever Yaz was around. The whole thing was mostly confusing, but had also kept them a little further apart than Yaz is with Bill and Clara.
But Jordyn casually mentioning at one of their annual dinners that she wouldn’t be doing anything at all for Christmas, coinciding with Yaz’s mother calling to ask her if this was the year she would finally be bringing a partner home with her had apparently activated the hallmark demon. That kickstarted her brain into making a few unconscious connections that Yaz was not immediately aware of. Although Yaz’s opportunistic mouth barrelled ahead anyways.
“I’m assuming you’re not bringing anyone home with you again this year. Honestly, Yasmin, at this rate you’re going to die alone surrounded by fifteen cats who’ll eat you when you die.”
“I don’t even like cats Mum.”
“Oh well then, you’ll just decompose all by yourself then. All I want is for you to be settled down and happily married. Maybe a couple of grandchildren? Is that too much to ask? Is that too much for a mother to want for her child? It’s like you want to be alone and miserable forever. Have you even tried to find someone? When was the last time you even went on a date? How have you not managed to find anyone at all? Even Sonya’s got-”
And it was the final straw. “Y’know what, Mum. I actually am dating someone.”
Bill raises her eyebrows, giving Yaz a Look, from across the couch. And now Yaz is panicking, because, did she really just say that? Did she really just lie to her mother about dating someone? Because even though she’s not 16 anymore, and she’s certainly not in one of those stupid Christmas movies where she’s supposed to be going home to Pumpkin-Spice-Christmas-Tree-Ville for the holidays, it seems like she’s just embroiled herself in a fake dating plot. God, she can’t really have just said that.
The tone change from her mother is instantaneous. “Oh! Really?! Are you really? I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. They’re coming for Christmas right? You’re bringing them? Of course you are, silly question, of course you’ll want to bring them for Christmas.”
“Mum, we don’t even celebrate-“
“Tell me all about them! What’s their name? What do they look like? Are they nice? Have a nice job?”
Yaz is panicking. Bill and Clara are laughing. Jordyn is giving her a bemused look as Yaz visibly scrambles for an answer. Looking at Jordyn turns out to be a mistake, given her runaway mouth.
“Her name’s Jordyn.”
The room goes silent. But Yaz doesn’t really notice, because she’s too busy staring at the shock and horror slowly dawning on Jordyn’s face as she hears the nonsense Yaz is sprouting.
“She’s umm, she’s blonde. And she’s really nice. And uhh, she’s a doctor.”
Bill collapses to the floor in silent laughter, while Clara looks between Yaz and Jordyn like she’s not entirely sure what’s going to happen next. And to be quite honest, Yaz isn’t sure either. Because she’s just named Jordyn, her slightly awkward and always distant friend/acquaintance, as her girlfriend, right in front of Jordyn’s face.
The way that Jordyn is staring at her, with her mouth hanging open and eyes wide is kind of making Yaz wish that the earth would simply open up and swallow her right then and there.
“And she’s definitely coming to Christmas?” Her mum asks, drawing Yaz away from the staring competition of pure terror she’s in the middle of with Jordyn.
“Yep. Yeah, she’s coming to Christmas. Definitely.”
She flicks her eyes back to Jordyn only to find her leaning forward with her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands shaking her head like she’s trying to convince herself she’s imagined this whole thing. Yaz doesn’t blame her.
Jordyn still has her face buried in her hands and is rocking back and forth in a steady motion that is making Yaz feel kind of like she wants to die. Clara’s already wide eyes are astronomical, and Bill… Bill is clutching at her side in a fit of raucous laughter that is making Yaz want to throw something at her.
The second Yaz had hung up the phone, the apologies had started.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry I don’t know why I just did that. Why did I say all of that?!”
“I don’t know, Yaz, why did you?!”
“I just panicked, I'm sorry!”
“Yeah, I can tell!”
Only for those apologies to be quickly followed by begging.
“It’s just for four days. Please, Jordyn, we just have to pretend, I’m so tired of them bugging me about it, I just want one year without it. And you never do anything for Christmas anyway!”
“Wow, Yaz, that’s charming as hell, I can see why I can definitely tell why I started fake dating you. Give me one good reason I should do this?”
“For the free food?”
Jordyn had actually appeared to seriously consider this. “...Fine.”
And then Bill had piped up with the very unhelpful, “I so want to see how this turns out, you reckon your Mum would mind if I come too?”
All that had landed them in the car, discussing ground rules: Hand holding? Yes; Hugs? Totally; Kissing? To be avoided if they could help it. As well as swapping the important info like what each other's favourite colour was, their birthdays, and whether they’re a cat or a dog person. It’s all stuff Yaz should’ve known anyway, because Jordyn has technically been her friend for years. Yet, despite the arm’s length she’d always thought Jordyn had kept her at, Jordyn had seemed strangely unsurprised by all of Yaz’s answers.
It’s also the most time they’ve actually managed to spend alone with each other without Jordyn finding some excuse to run away or close off the conversation. It’s nice to finally be able to spend an extended amount of time together and finally crack through some of those walls.
Except she can’t help but wonder if Jordyn was really the best choice for a fake girlfriend after all. It’s just that she’s always been a bit strange, and distant, and closed off, and what if they haven’t covered enough of the basics and they get caught and then Yaz has to explain that she’s fake dating her fake girlfriend and her entire family thinks she’s lost the plot? She can’t have them thinking that she’s an even sadder, more single mess than she actually is.
She argues back and forth with herself for the entire drive about whether she should just turn around and drop Jordyn back home and present her family with some excuse about having had a fight and breaking up suddenly. But then they’ve arrived, and they’ve walked up the stairs, and they’ve knocked on the front door which will be opened by Yaz’s family any second now. And it’s too late.
When Sonya opens the door she immediately gives Jordyn a judgmental once over. Yaz can feel Jordyn stiffen beside her, clearly nervous, and she squeezes her hand a little tighter, willing some reassurance over to her. Yaz glares until Sonya’s face arranges itself in an expression of approval and she's surprised by the relief she feels at her sister's quick acceptance of her fake girlfriend.
“You better get in here quick. Mum’s gone a bit wild.” Sonya tells her with a significant look, moving aside to let Yaz and Jordyn inside.
“What do you mea-oh dear god.” Yaz freezes in the process of taking off her coat when she sees it. The whole thing is too overwhelming for words. The entire hallway is covered with tinsel. A lot of tinsel.
She wanders into the living room to find Christmas lights strung up across the ceiling, the tv projecting a fake crackling fire with stockings hung up over it, and a Christmas tree, decorated and standing guard to a small pile of presents. She notes, with some relief a distinct lack of mistletoe though, so she’s not been entirely cursed by the Hallmark demon at least.
“What… the hell…” Yaz mutters under her breath.
“Yaz!” Her mum calls, rushing out from the kitchen to give her a hug. Yaz hugs her back on auto pilot, still caught up on all the Christmas decorations.
Sonya pushes past them and throws herself down on the couch, her phone already out.
“What did you do, mum?”
“Well, you said your girlfriend did do Christmas and I didn’t want her to miss out just because she was coming here to see us.”
“So you raided a B&M?”
Najia gives her a disapproving look, before practically pushing her aside. Yaz stumbles slightly as she’s gracelessly forgotten by her own mother who is beaming with disturbing levels of excitement in the hallway. Where Jordyn is standing a little awkwardly, glancing between Najia and Yaz like she’s trying to figure out exactly how she’s supposed to be right now and coming up entirely blank.
“You must be Jordyn!” Najia smiles, pulling her into a hug that Jordyn returns after a half seconds hesitation.
“Umm, yep. That’s me.”
Yaz gives her a look like, are you serious right now?
Jordyn returns an exasperated eye roll over her mum’s shoulder.
She quickly pastes on a charming smile that Yaz has never seen before, and when Najia pulls away to look her over she offers Yaz’s mum a smooth, “You didn’t have to do all this for me, Mrs. Khan. I’m just happy to finally be meeting you!”
That was smooth. Almost too smooth. Who is this woman? Is this the real, usually awkward Jordyn Smith, Yaz knows and is slightly above averagely acquainted with?
“Just Najia is fine, and of course I did this for you. Yaz has never brought someone home before. You must be very special to have finally made it this far.”
“Which would definitely indicate that Yaz is punching.” Sonya snorts from her spot on the couch without even bothering to look up from her phone.
Yaz turns to glare at her sister, “Oi!”
“Punching?” Jordyn asks with a frown.
“I’m not explaining that.” Yaz tells her.
“Sonya, could you please not. I don’t want the first person Yaz has brought over to run away. I want grandchildren one day.”
Sonya snorts a laugh. “Yeah cause they’ve got all the important parts to make that happen.”
Najia chooses to ignore her daughter and instead turns back to a very overwhelmed looking Jordyn, for which Yaz really does not blame her.
“Anyway, come in and sit down,” Najia says, ushering Jordyn further into the apartment. “Hakim is making pakora.”
Yaz gives her sister a panicked look, only receiving a sad nod in response. “Oh no .”
❅ ❆ ❅
They manage to navigate dinner without any major mistakes. Even Sonya seems to buy it, and she’s the one Yaz was most worried about if she’s being honest.
Jordyn is effortlessly good with her family. And it’s sort of strange to see her so charming and calm around them. Normally she’s all chaos and awkwardness. This suave, confident Jordyn is new, is confusing for her. Jordyn is charming her mother with easy compliments, and getting stuck into long, in depth conversations with her father about his favourite conspiracy theories, dropping in new facts to support his ideas. Even Sonya seems begrudgingly impressed with her when she chimes in with an opinion about some social media scandal that Yaz has never heard of.
It’s making her feel… weird. Because this is her family. And Yaz has never brought anyone home ever before, and she’d never expected it to be so easy. She’d never expected it to be with a fake girlfriend either but that’s beside the point. Or is exactly the point.
Because it shouldn’t feel so nice when Jordyn casually links her fingers with Yaz’s on the table, or places an easy hand on her thigh, or leans in towards her whenever she talks like Yaz is the centre of her universe. God, she really has been single for too long if this is all it’s taking for butterflies to take over all of her internal organs.
Jordyn insists on drying the dishes, no matter how much her parents insist she shouldn’t, and Yaz can practically see the scoreboard going up and up and up in Jordyns favour. Maybe this is working a little too well? They’ve still got three more days of this to go and if Jordyn does this well the whole time her family is going to be properly pissed when Yaz is forced to tell them a lie about them having broken up.
But the night eventually comes to an end and when Yaz goes to pull out the couch bed her mother stops her.
“What are you doing, Yaz?”
“Setting up the bed?”
“For who?”
“For… me?”
“Don’t be silly, Yaz. You’re 32. I know that you share a bed with your girlfriend, I don't expect you not to because you’re home. We’re all grown ups here.”
For a second Yaz considers arguing. She can see Jordyn over her mothers shoulder in the door to Yaz’s childhood bedroom looking a little panicked. And Yaz is pretty sure her face looks exactly the same. But none of this will help convince her family that she’s happily loved up with her fake girlfriend, so shoves the argument down. She smooths out her expression. She heads to her bedroom with only a slightly strained good night.
When the door is shut behind them they both just stare awkwardly for a moment. This is not what they had planned. Neither of them had been mentally prepared for this at all and it’s so obvious right now.
“It’s ok.” Jordyn says, breaking the silence, “I can sleep on the floor.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I made you come here, you’re the one doing me the favour. I’m not making you sleep on the floor.”
“I won’t be able to sleep if you’re on the floor, Yaz, I’ll feel terrible.”
“Well, I’m not letting you sleep on the floor either, Jordyn.”
“Me neither.”
They glare stubbornly at each other, neither of them willing to budge. The solution is obvious. Yaz knows it. She’s sure that Jordyn knows it too. But Yaz is absolutely not going to be the one to offer it. Is she?
“We could-”
“Why don’t we-”
They speak at the same time then stutter to a stop in unison as well. God, this is so awkward.
“Sorry-”
“You go-”
They freeze again, eyeing each other awkwardly.
Yaz sighs, “Let’s just share the bed.”
Jordyn scrunches her face up in a wince, “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. We’re both adults. It’s fine. It’s not a big deal.”
“Yeah, no, you’re right.” Jordyn agrees quickly, “It doesn’t mean anything. It’s fine.”
They both turn away to let the other change into their pyjamas, and Yaz tries very hard not to blush at the sounds of clothing hitting the floor behind her. She’s confused by the way her brain unconsciously drags up imaginings of what she might find if she were to sneak a peek. That’s not a normal thing to be thinking about Jordyn.
Maybe it’s all the pretending, and the little touches and hand holding that’s confusing her a bit. That would make sense. And it was undeniably kind of attractive the way she had so smoothly charmed her whole family all night. Yaz is just a simple gay, and it’s not like she’s never noticed that Jordyn is good looking before. She’s just never actively considered her as an option. And she’s not now either, no definitely not. Her body’s just a little confused by the sudden influx of skin to skin contact with a girl after being so tragically single for so long. That’s all it is.
She insists Jordyn go to the bathroom to brush her teeth first, which turns out to be a huge mistake because when she gets back she’s confronted by the image of Jordyn already in her bed. Which leaves Yaz as the one who has to take the suddenly monumental step of getting into that bed with her.
Why is this such a big deal? Jordyn is her friend. Sharing a bed is not a big deal. Not at all. It’s fine. It’s nothing. If only her heart could realise that too and stop with the pounding, this would be a lot easier.
She does it quickly, like ripping off a band aid, and just as quick, rolls over to turn off the lamp, plunging them into darkness. The light from the street lamps outside that creeps under the gaps of the curtains bathes the room in a bluish hue, leeching everything of colour and softening the sharp edges. It makes everything feel so much more intimate, and Yaz is suddenly tempted to find out how Jordyn might look in this light. If it might soften the nervous way she always is around her.
She’d thought it would be easier, not giving in to temptation, having her back turned and not being able to see Jordyn, but somehow the darkness makes Yaz even more aware of her. Like she can hear her and smell her and feel her more. She can hear Jordyn breathing softly beside her, feel the way she shifts every now and then under the blankets, dipping the bed beside her as she tries to find a comfortable way to sleep.
It’s like the space between them has gone electric in the dark, and it’s confusing. It’s like a horrible, yearning need to just touch her. And it’s not how she should be feeling, it’s not normal, because it’s not normal to have a fake girlfriend who she fake holds hands with and who fake rest their hand on her thigh or around her shoulders, or fake watches her mouth when she talks.
She wants to look. But she can’t. Won’t. That would be weird. What’s weirder is the way she wants to touch her more.
Which she absolutely, unequivocally, definitely really, really so cannot-
“Jordyn?”
The shuffling beside her ceases.
“Yeah?”
“Could I- God, I’m sorry this is a bit weird, but it’s been a weird day, you can absolutely say no, but could maybe, umm, could I have a hug?”
The silence from beside Yaz is deafening. And she’s already shaking her head and opening her mouth to apologise again when she’s frozen by a soft, “‘Course”.
“Oh.”
Neither of them move for a few seconds, but Yaz is the one who eventually bites the bullet. She’d asked after all.
She shuffles across the bed to where Jordyn lies beside her. She gets the confirmation that the shadows do soften Jordyn’s face, in a way that makes Yaz suddenly want to get even closer.
Jordyn jerks a little when Yaz finally touches her, but she doesn’t move away. She moves closer actually, until she can slip an arm under Yaz’s waist, and wrap the other around her back. Yaz hugs her back and at first it’s tense and awkward and not quite right, and where the hell is Yaz supposed to put her face without it being right in Jordyn’s? Or up against her neck? How is this supposed to work? It’s not working. It’s just not, she’s going to have to roll away without getting whatever it is she’d be hoping for out of this stupid hug idea and find a way to fall asleep, all too aware of Jordyn beside her and the enormous mistake that asking for hug was.
But then Jordyn shifts a bit, rolls onto her back and little and pulls Yaz with her so she’s lying half on top of her, with her face resting on her shoulder and then it all just kind of fits. The tension melts away and Yaz sighs in relief as they both relax into the hug. It’s nice. This is nice. Hugging Jordyn is nice. That weird clamouring has quietened. Everything has quietened.
Jordyn runs her hand down Yaz’s back in a soothing gesture and it feels so natural, easy, even. Sleep doesn’t feel quite so much like the impossible thing it was a few minutes ago.
“Thanks.” Yaz mumbles sleepily against Jordyns chest.
“Anytime.” Jordyn replies, giving her back another gentle stroke.
They stay like that for a long time. Long enough that Yaz starts to worry that she might be able to fall asleep on her fake girlfriend, which would probably not really be the done thing.
So she reluctantly pulls away. The feeling of Jordyns fingers trailing across her skin over her sleeping top as she goes is almost sweet enough to make her shiver. Or move right back into her arms.
But that would be wrong. So Yaz rolls over to face away from Jordyn and utters a too quiet, “Night.”
There’s a moment of silence as Jordyn stills beside her. And Yaz can almost feel Jordyns eyes lock onto her back and burn through her shirt.
“Good night, Yaz.” She eventually replies.
❅ ❆ ❅
When Yaz wakes up the next morning she’s almost surprised to find Jordyn there. But then remembers her stupid fake dating idea, and her parents stupid liberal ideas around bed sharing and her relationship (fake or otherwise).
They’ve moved closer in the night. Much closer. They’re right on the edge of their pillows, not quite touching, but all Yaz would have to do is shift the tiniest bit to change that.
Jordyn looks… nice. Pretty even, Yaz admits. She always has been, she knows this. But she’s never really consciously thought about it before. Her hair is spread out in a messy halo around her head, shining bright and golden in the morning sunlight. Her face is relaxed, more relaxed than Yaz has ever seen her. This close up Yaz can see that she’s got a faint dusting of freckles across her cheeks, can pick out the individual lashes fanned out across her cheek.
There’s so many things that she’s never noticed before, like that one side of her upper lip is slightly fuller than the other. She’s so busy staring at it, wondering how she never realised it was like that before, that she doesn’t even notice when Jordyn opens her eyes.
Jordyns mumbles at her sleepily, voice devoid of any ire, “What?”
Yaz jolts, quickly looking away, cheeks heating at having been caught. “Nothing.” She blurts, then rolls out of bed, away from Jordyn and whatever looking at her mouth makes her feel.