#with a tiny bit of buffy/willow for good measure

[bisummers]

buffy/faith 2k fic: just like on tv

fuffy day ❤ UC Sunnydale college roommate AU @buffylovesfaith

“I am done with men!”

Buffy announced dramatically, as she swung her room’s door wide open. She chucked her keys towards the desk, but wildly misjudged her aim. They ricocheted off her closet’s back wall and got lost somewhere between all her shoes.

“What happened?”

Faith asked, not bothering to look up from her computer. In the four and a half months they had been roommates, this was not the first time she had heard Buffy make such declarations.

She felt her plop onto bed before saying, “I didn’t even get fake Tahiti.”

“… The what?” Faith is looking at Buffy now, her interest slightly piqued.

“You know,” she started, “in TV or in movies when a character breaks a promise they made to someone, they show they care by making a grand gesture. Something that takes a lot of effort, to prove you didn’t really mean to flake.” Buffy sat up on her bed. “Like, for example, a guy promises his girlfriend a trip to Tahiti, but then he has to cancel. So he decorates his apartment like an island and invites her over to have a date in–“

“Fake Tahiti.” Faith finished Buffy’s sentence, nodding understandingly.

“Let me guess, Riley didn’t do anything to make up for missing your last two dates?”

“Three dates,” Buffy clarified, as she took off her boots. “He showed 20 minutes late today just to tell me he had to reschedule. Again. …As if! He was covered in soot, or black paint or something, wearing camouflage like he’d been playing paintball with his buddies.” Buffy stopped to groan as she finished pulling off her last sock.

“He probably forgot about our date and would rather finish his paintball championship than kiss me goodnight. I’m repulsive!”

Buffy was sporting her signature pout now, which Faith had learned meant Buffy was genuinely feeling insecure.

“Well, I say screw him. Screw them all.” Faith walked towards Buffy and sat next to her on the bed. She placed a tentative hand above Buffy’s knee. Her heart skipped a beat at the warmth of her naked thigh.

“Captain Cardboard doesn’t deserve you, and you should know better than to let a guy stand you up more than once anyways.”

Buffy didn’t appear to be listening; her eyes seemed fixated on Faith’s fingers. ‘Or,’ Faith thought, ‘I managed to make her even more insecure by pointing out her mistake and she can’t bear to look at me.’ After a few seconds of silence Faith took a gulp, raised her hand to Buffy’s chin, and softly pulled her face up to make eye contact.

“It’s not about you. I can’t see how any straight man could purposely ignore a catch like you.”

Faith smirked to try and lighten the mood, and she noticed Buffy was faintly blushing. Her eyes had softened; she kept staring at her as if waiting for more of her pep talk. Faith’s brain became muddled with all the thoughts she wanted to express, her lack of clarity made even worse by the proximity of their faces.

“So,” she said, getting up from Buffy’s bed and walking to her side of the room, “dance marathon at the Bronze tonight, B? Take the edge off?”

“Yeah,” Buffy answered with a small smile.  

Before Faith turned around, she could’ve sworn she saw Buffy bite her bottom lip.

‘You are head over heels in love with Buffy Summers.’

Faith thought, as she gazed at her reflection on the blurry bathroom mirror. She had wiped the steam off the glass to better see her face, but a slight fogginess endured. Her feelings, however, remained embarrassingly clear. She had reasoned that by admitting her affections for her roommate – even if just to herself – she would have a better chance to get over said feelings. ‘Admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery and whatnot.’

Faith thought she had been doing fairly well with getting over Buffy. Then she went and did something as ill advised as touching her thigh and lifting her chin. She kept replaying the way Buffy’s pouty lips looked when she reached for her face. Every time, Faith’s heart would swell uncomfortably. She stopped fantasizing and started lining her upper eyelids, using her elbows like a clasp to keep her towel in place. Just because she was comfortable with her body did not mean she wanted the dorm’s bathroom to get a show. She heard the clink of something fall from her beauty bag into the sink, but paid no mind. She was psyching herself up, resolved to put her misstep behind her.  Tonight at the Bronze she would focus on Buffy’s feelings and drown her own with a few drinks and some overeager guys. She would make sure Buffy got the good time she deserved and Riley couldn’t give her.

Suddenly, an idea hatched in Faith’s mind. She capped her liner and grabbed her phone, texting her friend Tara before she could lose her nerve.

Buffy was waiting for Faith in their room, using her desk as a vanity to retouch her makeup. Most of her primping and priming had been done for her fruitless date with Riley, so she was pretty much ready for their night out. She was also pretty much fuming about how that had turned out. She was still trying to understand how she had sunk so low and allowed some… man-child to play her for the third time. He was probably running around the woods still, not giving her a single, guilty thought.  ‘I should just date women,’ she thought, and a wave of shame came over her.

She was reminded of the first time she had kissed a girl. She had been 15 years old and new to Sunnydale. Her only friend was a nerdy redhead called Willow, who was now far away in Harvard preparing to rule the world.  Their decision to kiss had been reached after a lot of careful deliberation. She convinced her this would not count as their first kiss; that would be reserved for whatever boy they chose in the future. This was simply practice, so that they would be ready for such an important accomplishment. Ironically, Willow was now living with an admittedly gorgeous girl called Kennedy and Buffy… well, Buffy couldn’t get a date. Turned out their pondering over kissing purity had been in vain.

She remembered the “practice” fondly and a little embarrassedly. She reasoned just because she had puckered up with a lesbian did not mean she was one. If anything made her gay, it was the shiver that went up her spine when Faith cupped her face. ‘I mean, what was that about?’ Buffy thought, feeling a little ridiculous.

So far, the night out at the Bronze had turned into Faith’s own personal nightmare. She had forgotten her wallet, giving Buffy no choice but to cover both of their tabs. However, Buffy didn’t have enough for both of them, so Faith decided she could live the next few hours without liquor.

“Don’t worry about me,” she told Buffy with misleading confidence. “You drown your sorrows to your heart’s content.”

Boy had that been a mistake.

Faith had spent the night too aware of clammy hands and sweaty shirts. Too aware of Buffy’s every sip and increasing regard for guys. With every passing minute it became clearer to her she couldn’t continue the night pretending to be interested in men. Pretending she wasn’t jealous of the way Buffy laughed at their bad jokes. Pretending she wasn’t mesmerized by the sway of her hips and the way the light hit her jaw line when she flipped her head back. She was overwhelmed by an irrational need to punch the surrounding vultures and take Buffy safe into her arms.

Faith excused herself from the dance floor, stole someone’s shot from the bar, and headed out of the Bronze before the tequila’s rightful owner could protest. The shock of cold midnight air hit her hard enough to calm a bit of the fury going on in her head. She could still feel the burn of liquor down her throat; it made her feel in control. With that came a pang of guilt.

“Let’s leave the questioning of my alcoholic tendencies for another night, okay brain?” she muttered while wrapping her arms around herself.

‘Just get through the next hour,’ she thought, giving herself a while before going back inside.

It was an hour later now, and the girls were on the way back to their dorm. Faith had received a text message from Tara 20 minutes ago, confirming the plan had been set in motion and everything was successfully completed. Faith’s hope that tonight wouldn’t be a total disaster was all hanging on her ability to pull off this absurd idea.

“You should be really proud me,” Buffy said, “When I said I was done with men, I meant it. I didn’t give my number to a single one of those boys, not-a-one.”

Buffy was slurring her words just a little bit, but the fresh air from the walk back home had helped to diminish some of the influence. She was still tipsy, but not drunk.

“Yes, B, your act of selfless bravery will not be forgotten,” she teased, trying to juggle a leaning Buffy in one arm while opening the door with the other.

“There we go,” Faith announced as she heard the familiar click of the lock and swung the door ajar.

“Oh my god… Faith.”

Tara’s twinkle lights were hanging from their windows and the cabinets above their desks. There were strings lined full of cardboard shells, fishes, and palm trees hanging from their headboards and the doorframe. Faith’s radio was playing soft luau music while Buffy’s radio played the sound of waves crashing. To Faith’s surprise, Tara had even purchased a bottle of rum and placed it on the nightstand… next to her now empty wallet. Tara had truly gone all out. When Faith had confided in her about her feelings for Buffy she hadn’t exactly expected dissent, but she had not considered she would have received such fervent support either.

Buffy, she realized, was no longer holding on to her arm, but was twirling dazedly in the middle of the room, taking everything in.

“Is this–“

“Fake Tahiti,” Faith confirmed. “Or what I assume is a wildly inaccurate yet very loving rendition of it.”

Buffy’s rising smile could have lit up a stadium.

“How did you do this?” Buffy asked, breathless, turning towards Faith.

“Tara did most of it. I gave her my keys before I came back from the shower so she could use her last birthday decorations to spruce up the place.”

Buffy was laughing now; she had just noticed her stuffed pig Mr. Gordo was wearing a fake lei.  Faith questioned how it was possible to like someone so much so damn fast.

“Why?” Buffy questioned, inching closer, making eye contact. Her face was full of innocent curiosity. Faith had not expected that question.

“Because… I just like to see you smile.”

The words stumbled out of her mouth, truer and more candidly that she had ever spoken. Her entire body was on edge, the uncertainty of how Buffy would react lingered in between them like a fog.

Buffy looked to the floor as if deliberating, nodded her head, and kissed Faith straight on the mouth.

Both her hands rose gently but firmly to the sides of Faith’s neck as she put more pressure on the kiss. Buffy stopped after a moment, nothing but electrons between their lips. Faith stood there – eyes still closed – for what felt like an eternity, praying to whatever god would listen that she had not just hallucinated. When she realized it was real, Faith held onto Buffy’s back, pushed her forwards, and returned the kiss with unrestrained enthusiasm.

As they kissed, they both felt a weight being lifted – as if they had finally reached the finish line of a marathon they had been running for weeks.