Inconveniently Yours

Crope and Tibbett had had enough.

By the time Saturday night rolled around, they were done watching Glinda and Elphaba circle each other like lunatics with unresolved sexual tension. They decided—rather dramatically—that action had to be taken.

"Ladies," Crope declared, bursting into the dorm unannounced, "we’re going out. No excuses."

Elphaba, who had been perfectly happy ignoring reality in the safety of her room, immediately scowled. "No."

Glinda, who had been reading on the couch, arched a brow. "And if we do have excuses?"

Tibbett waved a dismissive hand. "Irrelevant. Your presence is mandatory."

"Says who?" Elphaba asked dryly.

"Says us!" Crope grinned. "And Fiyero, who is currently waiting outside with a cab because we knew you’d fight us on this."

Elphaba groaned, but before she could launch into an excuse, Glinda sat up, stretching leisurely. "Well. If it’s mandatory…"

She met Elphaba’s eyes, too smug, too knowing.

Elphaba exhaled sharply. Of course.

Glinda was going to use this against her.

The club was packed, bodies pressed together in a sea of perfume, cologne, and sweat. Music pulsed through the walls, the bass vibrating through their chests as Crope and Tibbett led them through the crowd with obnoxious enthusiasm.

Glinda was glowing—already a drink deep, already laughing too easily, already too comfortable in Elphaba’s space.

And Elphaba?

She was losing her mind.

It started small.

A hand brushing against her back as they maneuvered through the crowd.

Fingers ghosting over her wrist as Glinda reached past her for a drink.

A lingering press of their shoulders when Glinda leaned in to talk, her breath warm against Elphaba’s ear, the scent of her perfume too intoxicating.

Elphaba swallowed hard, keeping her face carefully impassive, but her skin was burning everywhere Glinda touched.

Glinda knew.

And she was having the time of her life.

"You’re tense," Glinda noted, tilting her head. "Having trouble relaxing, Elphie?"

Elphaba shot her a look. "I swear—"

Glinda just smiled, placing a hand lightly, deliberately on Elphaba’s thigh as she leaned in. "You should let go a little."

Elphaba’s breath hitched.

She’s drunk, Elphaba reminded herself. She’s just messing with you.

But then—

Glinda’s fingers curled slightly, not moving, just resting.

Elphaba felt everything.

The warmth. The pressure. The deliberateness.

She turned her head, just enough to meet Glinda’s eyes—blue and daring.

And for the briefest second, everything else disappeared. The noise, the crowd, the fact that this was dangerous—

It was just them.

Then someone bumped into them, breaking the moment, and Elphaba jerked away like she’d been burned.

Glinda smirked, looking far too pleased.

Elphaba downed her drink. "I hate you."

"You love me," Glinda countered, raising her glass with a wink.

Fiyero, having absolutely none of this, groaned dramatically. "For the love of Oz, just kiss already!"

Both women turned to glare at him simultaneously.

Crope and Tibbett cackled.

Elphaba exhaled sharply, setting her drink down with more force than necessary. "I need air."

Glinda, still smirking, watched her leave.

Tibbett nudged Crope. "Should we follow?"

Crope grinned. "Oh no. Let’s see how this plays out."

-

Elphaba stood outside, inhaling the crisp night air, trying to cool the heat burning beneath her skin.

Glinda had been toying with her all night, pushing her, waiting for her to break.

Elphaba exhaled sharply. Fine. If Glinda wanted to play, she was going to lose.

When she returned inside, Glinda had her back turned, mid-conversation with Crope and Tibbett. Elphaba moved quietly, stepping behind her, close enough that Glinda would feel the heat of her body.

Then—

She leaned in.

"Having fun?" Elphaba murmured, her breath ghosting over the shell of Glinda’s ear.

Glinda stiffened.

Elphaba smiled—small, knowing. She saw the way Glinda’s fingers tightened around her drink.

"You disappeared," Glinda said, turning her head slightly but not enough to meet Elphaba’s eyes.

Elphaba tilted her head, voice low and smooth. "Did you miss me?"

Glinda blinked, mouth opening—then shutting.

Crope and Tibbett exchanged delighted looks.

Fiyero smirked and mumbled. "Oh, this is new."

Elphaba reached for a drink from the table, fingers brushing over Glinda’s—deliberate, lingering. "You’ve been playing all night," she said casually, taking a sip. "I figured it was my turn."

Glinda gawked at her.

Elphaba smirked.

Then, just to drive the point home, she reached out—fingers lightly tracing the curve of Glinda’s bare shoulder.

Glinda sucked in a breath.

Elphaba’s voice dropped lower, almost a whisper. "What’s wrong? You don’t like it when it’s your turn?"

Glinda’s face was flushed.

Elphaba grinned. Checkmate.

Crope let out a delighted shriek.

Tibbett beamed. "Finally, some equal footing!"

Glinda cleared her throat, visibly flustered, lifting her chin. "I—You—" She huffed. 

Elphaba mock gasped. "Glinda Upland, speechless? Shall I record it for posterity?"

Glinda glared. "Don’t push your luck."

Elphaba just smirked, tilting her head, enjoying every second of Glinda unraveling.

Fiyero clapped his hands. "Alright, alright, before they combust—who needs another drink?"

Elphaba, still grinning, lifted her glass. "Oh, I’m just getting started."

-

Glinda was spiraling.

For the first time all night—maybe for the first time in her entire life—she had lost control.

Elphaba had been teasing her. Teasing her. And worse, it was working.

She wasn’t supposed to be this flustered. Wasn’t supposed to be this thrown off balance by the way Elphaba had whispered against her skin, the way she had leaned in just close enough to let Glinda feel the warmth of her breath—

And then pulled away like it was nothing.

Glinda was not handling it well.

"You alright there, dearie?" Crope asked, looking far too amused as he slid another drink in front of her.

Glinda snatched it up, downing half of it before responding. "I’m fine."

"Oh, you so are not," Tibbett singsonged, nudging Crope. "Look at her face. She’s devastated."

"I am not—"

"Oh, you are," Fiyero interjected, his smug grin just as bad as the others'. "For once, you’re not the one in charge. Must be maddening."

Glinda turned away, scowling into her drink. "You’re all useless."

Tibbett gasped dramatically. "Oh, she’s lashing out now. She’s mad mad—"

Crope grabbed his drink, lifting it toward Fiyero. "To Elphaba Thropp, the first woman to ever knock Glinda Upland off her pedestal."

They clinked glasses, laughing as Glinda shot them all a withering glare.

Elphaba, retuning from the restroom and sensing the discussion topic simply smiled into her own drink.

Infuriating.

Glinda straightened, inhaling sharply. "Fine. If that’s how we’re playing—"

She stood abruptly, snatching Elphaba’s wrist before anyone could react. "Boys, if you'll excuse us."

Elphaba blinked. "What—"

"Now."

She dragged her through the crowd before Elphaba could protest, weaving past sweaty bodies and sticky tables until they stumbled out the side door, into the dimly lit alley beside the bar.

The air was cool, a stark contrast to the heat still simmering under Glinda’s skin.

Elphaba pulled free, crossing her arms. "You’re really dramatic, you know that?"

Glinda exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. "What the hell was that?"

Elphaba tilted her head, feigning confusion. "You’ll have to be more specific."

Glinda glared. "You— You were— That was mean."

Elphaba arched a brow. "Oh, I was mean? Blondie, you’ve been playing this game all week. You just don’t like it when you’re losing."

Glinda sputtered, her pulse hammering. "That’s not—"

"Not what?" Elphaba stepped closer, pushing Glinda into the cold brick behind her, closing the distance between them. "Not fair? Not how it was supposed to go?" Glinda’s breath hitched. 

She was too aware of how close Elphaba was. Too aware of the way her sharp green eyes flickered down to her lips for just a fraction of a second.

"You want me to kiss you," Elphaba whispered.

Glinda’s stomach dropped.

Elphaba leaned in again, just enough to let their noses brush—just enough to send every nerve in Glinda’s body screaming.

"Don’t you?"

Glinda clenched her jaw, her breath coming uneven now. "You don’t get to do this."

Elphaba smirked, lazy, infuriating. "Do what?"

Glinda shook her head, her hands balling into fists. "You don’t get to mess with me like this, Elphie. You don’t get to— to—"

She stopped herself.

She couldn’t say it. Couldn’t admit it.

Elphaba’s smirk faltered.

Glinda’s chest was too tight.

She had to get out of there. Now.

"Forget it," she muttered, shoving Elphaba back and turning on her heel. "I’m going home."

Elphaba didn’t stop her.

Didn’t say a word as Glinda stormed off into the night, her heart pounding louder than the music behind her.

And for the first time since this ridiculous game had started—

She wasn’t sure she wanted to win anymore.