"Everybody here is so… alternative."
Bonnie made the comment as she looked up and down the queue they were in outside of the concert venue. Everyone had a similar aesthetic to Marceline – all dark clothes and punk rock – and Bonnie felt like she stuck out like a sore thumb. Maybe she should've thought about this. Maybe she should've washed the t-shirt that Marceline had given her and worn that instead of her pink dress and cardigan. Oh well. It was too late now.
Marceline snorted with laughter. "Was that a diss?"
"What?" Bonnie blinked in surprise and turned around to look at her, pushing her glasses up her nose. "No, no. Just an observation. I just feel like I stick out like a sore thumb."
"You kind of do, but it's cute," Marceline stuffed her hands in the pockets of her ripped black jeans. She was dressed like she usually was, with her black boots and an oversized grey Metallica t-shirt, and she definitely fit in more than Bonnie did. "I'd offer you my shirt, but I'm not going to walk around in my bra all night."
"I wouldn't complain about that," Bonnie looked her over appreciatively, "but that sight is for my eyes only, so…"
"Bonnibel, what a perv," Marceline mock gasped, "What would the queen say if she heard you being so distasteful?"
"Oh, shut up," Bonnie rolled her eyes, "you know most British people don't actually like the monarchy, right? Well, most young people."
Marceline raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Huh. I didn't actually. You included?"
"I dislike the fact that the taxpayer basically pays for their whole existence," Bonnie said, "and I don't believe that the privilege of power should be inherited. I suppose I'm more neutral, but definitely leaning towards the negative side. There's a lot of historical relevance, but… eh. Are they really necessary in a modern world? But older people like them, I guess."
"Huh," Marceline repeated, eventually shrugging in response, "Well, whatever. You were still being uncharacteristically pervy and I'm sure Old Lizzy would've been disappointed."
Bonnie rolled her eyes again but didn't comment. She just squeezed Marceline's hand and asked, "Are you excited to see the band?"
"Yeah. I've seen them before, they're really good live," Marceline replied, "Went with Keila. She's usually my concert buddy."
"Well, I apologise for snaking in and taking her place with my romantic charms," Bonnie joked, and Marceline just chuckled, "Why did you invite me, though?"
"Like I told you at the time, I figured you'd never been to a concert before," Marceline shrugged, "You admitting you were crushing on me was just convenient, because now it's a romantic first date."
She bumped against her lightly, and Bonnie blushed. Yeah. A first date. She wondered if the entire weekend encompassed the date, or if it was merely the concert. Bonnie hoped for the former, but she supposed that 'date' couldn't describe every future interaction she ever had with Marceline. In a way, she wished she had more experience, just so she knew the social rules and conventions. More specifically, when was it okay for her to kiss Marceline?
She had a feeling – quite a strong feeling, actually – that Marceline wouldn't kiss her first. There was a lot of evidence pointing towards it. For one, the way Marceline had told her that she'd let her set the pace because she wasn't experienced and might not know what she wanted. She hadn't said that last part, but Bonnie felt that it was implied. And for another reason, Marceline continued to surprise her. In the three days since they'd spoken, she'd shown flashes of an even softer side, that Bonnie hadn't known existed. Like when they'd cuddled, and Marceline immediately went to be little spoon without Bonnie having to say anything. Marceline was giving her signs. Signs that she wanted Bonnie to take the control, to make the first move.
"Well, I appreciate the invite and the romantic undertones," Bonnie said, and put an arm around Marceline's waist. She was careful to be gentle, because her rib was likely still sore. She was trying really hard not to worry about her over the course of their weekend; she had a feeling that any mention of Hunson would make Marceline uncomfortable and ruin their weekend for her. "Not only is this my first concert, it's my first date. You're very efficient at checking off firsts."
Marceline smirked. "Got another first I can check off for you later, too."
"Now who's being pervy?" Bonnie retorted, though admittedly the thought got her rather hot and bothered.
"I was just talking about grabbing a bottle of wine to split later," Marceline held her hands up, but she was still smirking, "You're obviously the dirty minded one here."
"You and I both know that's not what you were referencing," Bonnie said, "but fine. Fine. I'll believe you."
Marceline laughed, and as the queue began to move, she pulled the two tickets out of her back pocket and passed one to Bonnie. "Your ticket, ma'am. You've got your phone with you like I said, right?"
"Yep," Bonnie tapped her pocket, again feeling weird without a bag with her, but Marceline had told her it was best to travel light. "Why?"
"If we get separated – we probably won't, but still – text me. And if there's no service, meet me by the merch table." Marceline said, and Bonnie knew her concern must've shown on her face, because Marceline quickly added, "Like I said, we probably won't, but… it'll be pretty crowded and it can happen."
"I'll just have to keep holding your hand then," Bonnie put on a look of faux irritation. "How annoying."
Marceline laughed, and Bonnie couldn't hold the fake look any longer. "You love holding my hand, dork."
"Don't kid yourself, Marcy," Bonnie joked, but squeezed Marceline's hand softly, "Yeah, actually. I do. A lot."
Marceline blushed, and as they got to the doors, they both waited for their tickets to be scanned before walking in. They made their way past the merch table and Bonnie noted its location just in case. There was already a long line for it.
"Are you going to get any merch?"
Marceline followed her gaze over to the table and hummed in thought. "Maybe. Keila's the one that always gets the merch, and usually we're stuck in a fucking manic line for ages after the show, and after all of that waiting, I get something too. I don't think I'll throw myself into that line tonight, though. If it's not so bad, maybe I'll pick up a t-shirt for Keila."
Bonnie hummed. She could already hear heavy bass of the opening band playing and realised how loud it would be. Probably not much time for conversation, but at least she could see Marceline in her happy place.
"Do you like the opening band?" Bonnie shouted over the loud music once they were onto the floor. The band on stage were generally being ignored by the already large crowd.
"I don't know them, but sometimes openers can surprise you," Marceline called back, "I discovered one of my favourite bands because they were openers at a concert for another band I liked." She glanced over at the busy bar at the back. "Do you want a drink?"
Bonnie shook her head. "Are you getting one?"
"Nah. I think it's weird when people get drunk at concerts," Marceline said, glancing at a group of older boys with plastic cups of beer in their hands, "Like, what's the point in paying money to go see a band you like and then getting drunk and not remembering it the next day? Go to the club if you want to get drunk. Go to concerts for the music."
"An intelligent philosophy," Bonnie commented, but she didn't think that Marceline heard her over the loud cheer that went up in the crowd when the opening band asked if everyone was excited for PVRIS. She kept a tight grip on Marceline's hand as they joined the big mob gathered on the floor in front of the stage, and soon she couldn't see where they'd come in from as more and more people filled up the space behind them.
It was very tight, and Bonnie was sure that if she was claustrophobic, she definitely would be ruling concerts out in the future. But it was okay. The people packed in around them gave her an easy excuse to stay pressed up against Marceline, holding tightly onto her hand. For a moment, she worried about Marceline's rib – what if someone elbowed it? – but Marceline herself didn't seem too worried. In fact, she seemed lighter than Bonnie had ever seen her, tapping her free hand against her thigh to the drumbeat of the song the opening band were playing.
She glanced around; over the sea of people, and hidden in the backdrop of the lights from the stage, there seemed to be a smaller upstairs seated area. "You didn't want to get seats?"
Marceline followed her gaze up and scrunched her nose in disgust. "No, that's lame."
Assuming it was just some concert thing that she didn't understand, Bonnie shrugged. There was a faint smell of cheap beer as the group of boys from before pushed through the crowd to get closer to the stage, and Bonnie caught Marceline rolling her eyes. She laughed, but Marceline didn't hear it over the final notes of the opening band.
There was less of a sensory assault going on once the opening band went off stage and the venue's stereo began playing a pop song she'd heard on the radio a few times. It was still loud – with everyone around them holding a conversation, it was going to be – but it definitely wasn't as earsplittingly loud as before.
She let go of Marceline's hand for a few seconds to slip her cardigan off. It was much too stuffy in the venue for that. She assumed it was a body heat thing as she tied it around her waist, and then quickly grabbed Marceline's hand again. She didn't like letting go of it in a place as busy as this. It made her feel oddly untethered. Like Marceline was her anchor in the sea of bodies.
"Are you okay?" Marceline asked her, and Bonnie nodded quickly. She saw the way green eyes darted across her face, almost as if she was fact-checking her answer with her body language. She seemed satisfied, because Marceline smiled and kissed her cheek. "Good."
That gave Bonnie something else to mull over as they waited for the band. Kissing. Specifically, the perfect moment to kiss Marceline. Should she kiss her during a song? Maybe she should've asked which song was her favourite, so she could kiss her during it. Or maybe it was bad concert etiquette, and she should wait until the show was over.
She hated being such an overthinker, but before she could overthink about overthinking, the lights went down and a synth started playing, and the crowd let out a loud, collective scream. Everyone seemed to push forwards, and Bonnie gripped Marceline's hand like she was her life buoy out in a deep sea, and she'd drown without her. The band started their first song, and it was one Bonnie had listened to previously, upon receiving the tickets from Marceline. She knew it well enough to hum the melody, but she lost most of her interest in the band when she looked at Marceline and saw how happy she was. She could practically feel the joy radiating off of her, and she knew that this was Marceline's happy place.
Despite how hot it was, and how loud, and how claustrophobic, Bonnie was pleasantly surprised at how much she enjoyed it. It was nice to dance – well, jump – and watch Marceline get lost in the music. There was a point in a slower song where Marceline turned to look at her, and Bonnie wondered if that was the moment. Marceline smiled at her softly, and Bonnie thought she looked so beautiful, the lights from the stage hitting her just right, and Bonnie almost went in for the kiss.
But then the singer hit a high note and the crowd roared and Marceline looked back at the stage, and Bonnie sighed to herself.
When the concert was over, it took them a while to get out of the venue, since everyone was piling towards the only exit at the same time. Bonnie's legs were aching a little bit from standing, and again, she worried about Marceline, but it was still so loud with all the people around them, and she wasn't sure if asking would kill her mood. Marceline still looked so happy, and Bonnie didn't want to ruin it, especially when she knew she'd be safe for the next two nights.
When they finally got outside, Bonnie was relieved at the slight chill in the night air. It was July, so it was the perfect cool night breeze, with a little warmth in there. But anything would feel cold after the heat inside. She still hadn't let go of Marceline's hand as they walked down the street, following some other people who must've been to the concert too, since they were wearing the merch that Bonnie had seen being sold.
"Thank you for bringing me, Marcy," Bonnie broke the comfortable silence they were walking in. She looked over at Marceline, and her cheeks were flushed, but she wasn't sure if that was because of how hot it had been in the venue. "I had a lot of fun."
Bonnie kissed Marceline's cheek and wondered if she should've just gone in for a real one. Maybe that had been the moment, and she'd missed it?
But Marceline didn't seem disappointed. She just smiled and murmured, "I'm glad you enjoyed it. Want to pick up a pizza to split back at the hotel?"
"Yeah, okay," Bonnie said, and before Marceline could say otherwise, she plucked the money she'd brought along with her – in case Marceline had wanted merch, so she could get it for her – out of her pocket and said, "My treat."
Marceline rolled her eyes and looked like she was about to object, but Bonnie pressed a kiss to her jaw, and she just said, "I guess I could let you get it."
The hotel wasn't too far away – Bonnie supposed that Marceline had booked it for that purpose, making sure it was close enough to the venue to walk – so she pulled her into the nearest pizza place she saw and walked up to the counter, "Pepperoni?"
"Mhm," Marceline said, so Bonnie ordered a medium pepperoni pizza for the two of them to share. She wasn't too hungry, because they'd snacked throughout the day as they were traveling to get to the city, and they'd had sandwiches before the concert, but her stomach still wanted something more. Four slices would do nicely.
She collapsed down in the chair next to Marceline at the table she'd sat at to wait. "I have to say, I'm looking forward to getting in my pyjamas and watching trashy late night TV with you."
Marceline checked the time on her phone, "It's only 10:45. Not exactly late."
"Maybe not for vampires like you, but I like having a regular sleep schedule," Bonnie joked and nudged her foot under the table, "I seriously don't get how you stay up half of the night."
"Most of the time it's just songwriting inspiration. I write better at night." Marceline said, and then quietly added, "I've always been kind of a night owl, though."
"I can see that," Bonnie replied, and thought about it a little bit more before laughing, "We really are night and day, aren't we?"
"Well, you did say you're into it when a person is your total opposite, so…" Marceline flashed her a grin, "Guess that works out for the best."
Bonnie squeezed her hand. "Yes, I suppose it does."
Their order number was called, and Bonnie went up to collect it. She didn't want Marceline to carry it, not just in case her rib still hurt, but chivalry was important. Maybe. Bonnie wasn't entirely sure on that, and the only relationship models she had to base off were the stereotypical heterosexual ones on TV. She supposed she'd have to rewatch Orphan Black for early stage Cophine and take some notes.
Marceline held the door for her, and Bonnie realised there was one fault with carrying the pizza; she couldn't hold Marceline's hand. But she managed without it for the five minutes it took them to walk up the street to their hotel in a comfortable silence, Marceline humming the melody of one of the songs Bonnie had heard tonight. St Patrick, Bonnie identified it, that's the one. She made a mental note to download it onto her phone.
When they got up to the room, Bonnie wondered if that was supposed to be the moment for the kiss. That was what happened, right? You walked the girl back to her house and kissed her. But usually, you weren't sharing a hotel room with said girl, or holding a big pizza box.
"You have the key, right?" Marceline leaned against the closed door, "Because if you don't, we're in trouble."
Bonnie nodded, fumbling with the pizza box. "It's in my back pocket."
She let out a quiet, "Oh," when Marceline stepped around her and grabbed the key. She was aware of her deep red blush, but Marceline felt the need to let her know. "Damn, Bonnie, you look like a tomato right now. Wonder what you're going to be like when I actually feel you up."
"Stop it," Bonnie muttered petulantly as Marceline unlocked the door and held it open for her. "Pervert."
"You love it," Marceline sent her a cheeky wink as she let the door shut behind them, green eyes sparkling with mischief. She opened up her bag and produced a bottle of red wine, "I wasn't joking about the wine, if you wanted to try it. No pressure, though."
Bonnie put the pizza box down on the little table next to the TV and eyed the bottle of wine. She considered it. She'd never had an interest in drinking – that was one of the things that brought her and Bubba together – but it wasn't like she was against it. She'd mostly never tried it because she considered it something she should only do around people she trusted to look after her, and she knew that Marceline would never let her wander off and get hurt.
She watched as Marceline grabbed one of the provided glasses and poured herself a cup, sealing her fate with a nod. "Yeah. Alright. I'll try it."
"You seriously don't have to," Marceline said, hesitating, "Like, I don't wanna peer pressure you or make you feel like you have to prove something by drinking even if you don't want to, you know?"
Bonnie's stomach flipped. Marceline was so incredibly thoughtful. "When I turned sixteen, Peter gave me the alcohol talk, even though he knew I was never really that interested. He told me that if I ever had the desire to get drunk, I should always do it with someone I trusted. And I trust you. Not that I'm planning on getting drunk, but still. Pour the wine, servant."
Marceline smiled – that soft little reserved smile – and poured her a cup, passing it to her with a mock bow. It wasn't as exaggerated as usual, and Bonnie realised it was probably because she was still in pain, but she didn't want to comment on it and make Marceline upset. "Your wine, your majesty!"
"Thanks," Bonnie took it with a laugh and placed the cup on the bedside table on her side of the bed, "I'm just going to go get in my pyjamas and then we can eat with a little bit of TV."
Marceline nodded, and Bonnie quickly rifled through her bag for her pyjamas and disappeared into the bathroom to change. She looked herself over in the mirror, smoothing out the rock t-shirt she almost always wore to bed and running her fingers through her hair. She thought that she should put kissing Marceline on the back burner for tonight. There had been a couple of moments where she could've done it, but it wouldn't feel right for their first kiss to be an intoxicated kiss. Bonnie just wanted it to be perfect. She still had tomorrow.
She sighed and bundled up her worn clothes, opening up the bathroom door. She blinked in surprise when she realised she maybe should've announced that she was going back in, because Marceline was barely dressed, in a pair of green checked pyjama shorts and her sports bra.
Bonnie's mouth worked, and Marceline just smirked at her. "Like what you see?"
"I- uh…" Bonnie stammered, torn between one rather inappropriate feeling and the stab of heartbreak at the sight of the fading yellow bruises against brown skin. "Yes? Wait- no, I- god. Sorry for walking in."
She still couldn't tear her gaze away, and Marceline just laughed, "Bonnie, you've seen me in a bikini, this is hardly any different."
"I just- ugh, put a t-shirt on, will you?" Bonnie said, flipping open the pizza box and blinking at the steam that came out. That was a good distraction, because it kept her eyes firmly away from nearly-topless Marceline. "Am I allowed to turn around now?"
Marceline made her jump by coming up behind her, a hand touching her waist, and leaning in to press a soft kiss to the side of her neck, "You could've turned around whenever you wanted."
She felt Marceline smirk against the side of her neck, because of course the insufferable flirt knew what she was doing, but the older girl just grabbed a slice of pizza and collapsed onto the bed.
Once she'd recovered from that, Bonnie brought the pizza box over and sat down on the bed. She wasn't surprised, when she'd walked in earlier and there was only one bed. She assumed Marceline had done that on purpose when she was booking it, and there were certainly no complaints from Bonnie.
She got under the covers and propped up her pillows, placing the pizza box between them and grabbing a slice. Marceline was flipping through the channels, and Bonnie picked up her wine, having a sip. She blinked in surprise at the almost bitter taste – if there was something she'd been expecting, it certainly wasn't that – but she supposed it was alright. It felt warm as it went down.
Marceline left the TV on some late night talk show, and Bonnie took the opportunity to admire her side profile. That perfectly sharp jawline, the way her hair fell over her shoulders almost majestically, like she was some kind of ethereal mermaid, the way the corner of her mouth always seemed to be tilted up in a small smile whenever she was with Bonnie. She loved Marceline's nose ring; Bonnie had generally thought that piercings looked unprofessional – a nice little prejudice instilled in her by her parents – but she found Marceline's nose ring really, really attractive.
"Did it hurt?" Bonnie asked, and then she realised that Marceline had no idea what she was thinking about, but it was too late.
Marceline took her opportunity to make a sarcastic comment. "When I fell from heaven?"
Bonnie snorted with laughter. "No, when you crawled up from hell."
"Oof," Marceline put a hand over her heart, "that stings, Bonnie. But seriously, did what hurt?"
Bonnie paused to take another sip of wine, "When you got your nose pierced."
"No, the needle being jammed through my face felt like sunshine and daisies," the remark was practically dripping with sarcasm, but before Bonnie could retort, Marceline just shrugged, "To be honest, not really. Just made my eyes water a little bit. Why? Are you thinking about joining the piercing gang?"
"No, I just wondered," Bonnie answered, and despite knowing the kind of cocky response she would inevitably get, she admitted, "I find it really attractive, that's all."
Marceline surprised her, and after she'd finished her bite of pizza, she said, "Oh. Well, thanks, Bon."
"Just telling the truth," Bonnie shrugged, "Would you ever get any other piercings?"
"Got a thing for them, huh?" Marceline wiggled her eyebrows, grabbing another slice of pizza with one hand and pushing her hair behind her left ear with the other, "I've got my tragus, double helix and first and second lobes."
Bonnie reached out and touched the two studs at the top of Marceline's left ear. "I like this one a lot. If there's a place we can walk in tomorrow, and you promise to hold my hand, I might actually get that. Only one, though, rather than the two."
Marceline looked at her incredulously. "I feel like that's the wine talking, but okay. I'm down. I kind of want to get my forward helix on my other ear, actually. But we have to do it earlier, because I've got something else planned for the rest of the day."
"It's not the wine talking, I actually really like it," Bonnie said, "Like I said, I'll only do it if you'll hold my hand."
"Deal," Marceline said, "it doesn't hurt much, though. Promise."
Bonnie hummed in reply, and then realised the other thing that Marceline had said. "So, what is it that you've got planned for tomorrow?"
"It's a surprise, brainlord," Marceline said, "and no, you won't get it out of me."
Bonnie laughed. "If it's as good as the fish and chips surprise, then I'm sure I'll enjoy it. Is that slice of pizza mine or yours?"
It was the last one, and Marceline nodded at her. "You take it."
Bonnie grabbed the slice, and Marceline moved the box back over to that little table and once she returned from the bathroom after brushing her teeth, switched the main light off. When she got back to bed, she snuggled herself under the covers, and Bonnie saw Hambo's arm peeking out. She smiled. Of course Marceline had brought him.
Once she'd finished her slice of pizza, drunk her glass of wine and done her own pre-bed routine, Bonnie settled down against the pillows with a yawn, taking her glasses off and placing them on the bedside table. She blinked in quiet surprise when Marceline rolled over and snuggled her face into her shoulder, throwing an arm across her torso protectively. The other was bound tightly around Hambo.
Bonnie smiled and wrapped her arms around Marceline, trying her best to be careful with her. "Hey there, cuddle bug."
She expected a groan or a don't call me that, but instead, Marceline just yawned into her shoulder and let out a muffled, "Hey. I'm sleepy."
"Your single glass of wine knocked you out a little, huh?" Bonnie laughed, but admittedly, her own glass had made her feel a little bit floaty and tired. Her fingers worked their way through Marceline's soft hair as she mused. "Me too. It's been a pretty long day. But a really good one."
"Night, Bon-Bon," Marceline tiredly murmured into her shoulder. Apparently, she wanted to give Bonnie a heart attack, because right after, she mumbled, "I really like you."
When her heart decided not to beat at five thousand miles an hour, Bonnie whispered back. "Night, Marcy. I really like you too."
