Theater Buds, Right?
Belly Conklin x Reader
For @deafeningsharkslimeempath
No one else wanted to see Wicked: For Good with her. Not Conrad or Jeremiah. Not even Taylor. But she always had you, her unofficial Theater Bud. She would constantly reiterate to Taylor that you and her were just friends. Not that anyone believed her when she said that.
The theater is dim, the only light coming from the emerald glow of the stage and the soft reflection in Belly’s eyes as she watches Elphaba and Fiyero. She’s been leaning forward in her seat for the last hour, completely captivated, but truth be told, she’s spent almost as much time sneakily glancing at you in the seat next to her.
When the first sultry, low chords of "As Long As You’re Mine" begin to vibrate through the floorboards, it was a song Belly knew practically by heart.
“Kiss me too fiercely, hold me too tight…” Belly sang all of Elphaba’s parts without missing a beat. You couldn’t help but give her a smile.
You lean in closer to her, your shoulder brushing hers, and begin to whisper-sing the lyrics, your voice a smooth, low tether in the dark.
"Maybe I’m brainless, maybe I’m wise…” Belly couldn’t believe you knew Fiyero’s part by heart. “You’ve got me seeing through different eyes…”
Belly feels a sudden skip in her pulse. She turns her head, finding you already looking at her, a playful, soft smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth. The intimacy of the lyrics feels different here, surrounded by hundreds of people yet feeling like you’re the only two in the room.
The two of you sang in unison, “every moment as long as you’re mine…”
You and Belly found yourselves lost in the song, singing almost by heart.
As the song nears its final lines, you lean your head toward hers until your temples are almost touching.
"And know I’ll be here, holding you..." you sing, your voice dropping into that deep, resonant tone that always makes her stomach do a slow, dizzying flip.
"As long as you're mine," you both finished, her voice trailing off. Belly really did have a voice like an angel.
In the silence of the transition, you don’t pull away. Instead, you reach down and find her hand in the dark, squeezing it gently. Belly looks down at your intertwined fingers, her heart fluttering like a trapped bird. She’s known you forever, but in this moment —the "just friends" label feels like a script she’s ready to rewrite.
