noahsfault · 1 year ago
Text
Drank two ciders last night and all it did was make the voices in my head go away
9 notes · View notes
avnkin · 4 years ago
Text
The Bet
Chapter 1 - Surfer Boy
JJ Maybank x Reader
Warnings: foul language, fuckboi!jj, underage drinking ya know the gist 
Word count: 2k
Summary: John B bets JJ that he can’t get kook princess Y/N Y/L/N to fall in love with him and not one to turn down a challenge JJ takes the bet unaware of the repercussions it would have. (I suck at summaries lmao i’m sorry)
(A/N): I wanna make this a series or at least a 2-3 part fic but I also have to write for the pogues and ughhh i’m so overwhelmed idk why I do this to myself,, someone send help. (gif by @rue-bennett​)
series masterlist
Tumblr media
“Okay- uhm, Sarah Cameron or Y/N Y/L/N?” John B questioned JJ as they sat at the front of the HMS Pogue enjoying the sun that shone down on the pair of them “easy Y/N” JJ asserted like it was the most obvious thing in the world, John B gave JJ a side eye “seriously, that girl seems so uptight, she needs a dick in her asap” John B chuckled taking another swig of the beer that was placed in his hand.
“You’re not wrong about that” JJ agreed, when John B suddenly had an idea mischievously staring JJ down who only shrugged, his face a question mark “what?” he finally asked glancing up at his best friend “I’ll bet you a hundred dollars that you can’t get her too fall in love with you within a month” John B dared, smugly looking over at JJ knowing he wouldn’t have the patience to be with a girl for more than an hour.
JJ wasn’t one to turn down a challenge, chuckling as his eyes met John B’s brown ones, staring each other down until JJ finally accepted the challenge shaking John B’s hand before saying “you’re on”.
You stared at your reflection in the mirror that stood before you, content with the fourth bikini you had tried on in the last ten minutes. Sarah had called you earlier asking if you wanted to join her and a couple of your other friends down at the beach, you weren’t one to turn down an offer like that so you got dressed before grabbing a bag that contained all the things you could possibly need for a beach day.
You quickly swung your bedroom door open calling out into the empty hallway that you were leaving only getting a small ‘okay’ in response from your dad, you rolled your eyes before making your way downstairs and towards the front door grabbing your car keys you headed towards your car and placed the bag in the passenger seat before starting it and driving down your long driveway towards the main road.
The weather was amazing and you’d spent the entire car ride listening to your ‘summer vibes’ playlist on Spotify belting out the lyrics to every single song as you drove down figure 8 and towards the cut.
When you finally arrived you grabbed your bag out of the passenger seat making your way towards your group of friends who were easy to spot amongst the crowds of people.
Sarah smiled when she saw you patting the empty spot next to her gesturing for you to sit down, you jogged over to them and immediately grabbed your towel and laid it neatly next to Sarah’s, quickly removing the clothes that covered your bikini.
“Damn Y/N, looking good” a sudden voice could be heard from behind you, you quickly turned around seeing JJ Maybank stand before you, he was infamous around these parts, best known for sleeping with girls and never talking to them again, you weren’t going to be one of his conquests, so you scoffed ignoring his flirtatious gestures as you sat down next to Sarah grabbing a white claw from the mini cooler your friend Lisa had brought with her.
This was going to be harder than he thought, JJ quietly spoke to himself eyes focused on your figure, he couldn’t deny it he liked what he saw, you were exactly his type but he knew if he was going to win this bet he couldn’t treat you like one of the many girls he’d been with, he knew you were different.
The weather was especially good today, your skin glistening in the sun rays as it shone down on you, “there’s gonna be a party down here tonight, we should totally go” you heard Sarah’s voice from beside you, you only shrugged not really feeling up to it knowing how those parties usually ended. “I think I’m gonna stay in tonight” you sighed propping yourself up on your elbows “no Y/N you’re not, you never go out with us come on it’ll be fun we can have pre-drinks at my house-” you raised your eyebrow at her cutting her off “come on don’t be such a party pooper” Sarah frowned giving you her best puppy dog eyes, you groaned letting your head fall back onto the towel “fine”.
The night quickly rolled around and you found yourself standing outside Sarah’s house. You took a deep breath before knocking on the door, within seconds Sarah was stood in front of you grabbing your wrist and dragging you behind her into the house.
Music was blasting from Sarah’s bedroom, all of your friends had already arrived and started drinking greeting you with hugs and compliments as you walked in the door, the only one sober was Lisa since she had been assigned driver for the night.
It didn’t take you long to start feeling a bit tipsy after downing a couple of shots, since if you were being honest you were quite the lightweight.
You wore jean shorts that perfectly complimented your figure and a white bandeau top along with your white vans, you were quite content with the girl who stared back at you in the mirror feeling confident about yourself for what felt like the first time in a while.
You were feeling very lightheaded when Sarah asked Lisa to get going wanting to get down to the beach as quickly as possible, maybe drinking so much hadn’t been the brightest idea you had.
“Y/N come on we're leaving” Sarah slurred grabbing your hand and leading you out the front door and into Lisa’s black jeep. Music was playing loudly out of the speakers as you belted along with the lyrics rolling down the window loving the feeling of the wind in your face.
It was a short drive down to the beach which felt even shorter in your intoxicated state and as soon as Lisa parked you immediately got out of the car Sarah trailing behind you as you made your way towards the crowds of drunk teenagers.
You hadn’t been there long when you decided you wanted more alcohol and made your way towards the keg to fill your cup with yet another drink, this isn’t gonna end well you thought downing the liquor in what could only be described as record time. “Didn’t know you had that in you Y/L/N” a familiar voice sounded behind you, you quickly turned around being face to face with the all too familiar Maybank boy.
“Well there’s a lot you don’t know about me” you flirted raising the cup back to your lips, feeling the alcohol coursing through your veins give you a newfound confidence, he chuckled shaking his head as he got closer to you “wouldn’t mind getting to know you better princess” he hummed, his confidence evident in the way he spoke, princess the word fell so graciously from his lips causing your knees to weaken but you quickly composed yourself clearing your throat and stating “in your dreams Maybank”.
“Always” he replied taking one step closer to you, placing both arms onto the keg behind you trapping you between him and it. You felt your breath getting caught in your throat as you looked back up at him lips only inches away from his, in your intoxicated mind this was a dream come true, but your sober self quickly took over, you didn’t feel like getting your heart broken by someone like JJ, not tonight at least.
You pressed your index finger against his chest pushing him away from you, “you really think I’m that easy, huh?” you scoffed biting down on your lip as you made your way past him ignoring his lingering stare as he watched you walk away.
When you were almost out of sight John B came up behind JJ putting a hand on his shoulder “wanna give me my hundred dollars now before you embarrass yourself any further or?” he gloated chuckling at JJ who only gave him a glare in return.
“I’m only getting started, you just wait” JJ assured him eyes lingering on your figure as he watched you dance with one of your many friends he didn’t know the name of, “whatever you say big man” John B chuckled ruffling JJ’s hair before going back to Pope and Kiara who sat in a circle around the bonfire.
“Care to dance?” his voice could be heard again from behind you, you rolled your eyes “you never give up do you?” you challenged turning to face him “not my style princess” he smirked knowing exactly what he was doing “stop calling me that” you really hated being one of those girls boys thought they could treat however they wanted and you knew JJ was only trying to sleep with you and you weren’t going to be one of the many girls he played, having more respect for yourself than that.
“Listen JJ I’m not interested in sleeping with you so if that’s the only thing you’re trying to do go find someone else” you spoke bluntly, JJ feigned being offended at your words as his hand went up to his heart “wow Y/N I’m hurt that you would think so lowly of me”
“seriously? with your reputation?” you scoffed raising an eyebrow at the boy who stood in front of you “didn’t realize I had a reputation sweetheart, but I’m flattered that you’ve heard of me” you rolled your eyes turning to walk away from him, but before you could he grabbed your wrist preventing you from moving any further.
“Seriously Y/N I really do like you- I’m sorry if I’m coming off as an ass I’ve just- I don’t know never felt this way about a girl before, I want to get to know you” the lie fell so perfectly from his lips, his eyes stuck on yours not breaking eye contact once as to sell the lie even more.
You were surprised at his words you’d never talked to him before and now he was saying he liked you? it didn’t make any sense. “Come on Y/N one date, that’s all I’m asking and if you still think I’m an ass after that I’ll never bother you again alright?” he pleaded. You were tempted at his words, he seemed sincere, his brows contorting as he stared at you hopefully.
“Alright one date, that’s it” he felt a boost in pride, your words feeding into his ego, but he was careful not to show it smiling innocently at you as he took his phone out so you could put your contact information into it.
“Better not make me regret this” you warned handing him his phone back “I promise you, I won’t” he smiled turning to walk away, blowing you a kiss causing a small chuckle to slip past your lips, maybe he wasn’t as bad as people had told you.
JJ walked towards John B, his head held high as he threw him his phone with your contact information open “no fucking way” John B stated in disbelieve staring down at the number with your name above it “told you I could do it man” JJ chuckled sitting down beside him opposite Kie and Pope.
“Do what?” Kie asked taking a sudden interest in JJ’s radiating confidence “It’s nothing me and JB just have a little bet going on” JJ smirked grabbing the phone out of John B’s hand, “whatever” Kiara waved him off turning back to Pope.
JJ felt a hint of guilt as his eyes met yours and a blush crept onto your cheeks, your eyes quickly diverting from his and back to Sarah’s, only a hint though.
next part
add yourself to the taglist!!!
2K notes · View notes
enjennie · 4 years ago
Text
Take Care.
pairing: jaehyun x reader (x juyeon)
genre: angst. bestfriend!jaehyun and boyfriend!juyeon. one-sided love :[
word count: 1.4k
warnings: alcohol intake, cheating (i guess), kinda frustrating choices were made, not a happy ending for jh.
a/n: hi to any deobizens, sorry this wasn't that good but I had fun writing it :> enjoy!
Tumblr media
The keys jingle in your hand as you twist its body into the keyhole, turning the doorknob once and successfully letting yourself into the tenth floor boys’ dorm. It was quiet, a rare thing to see in the usually chaos-filled house of the five boys.
On any other day, you would appreciate the quietness but today you came looking for it. The boys’ presence helped you forget any worries you had, and you wanted nothing but to spend the night with your best friends, preferably by drinking.
“Anybody home?” you called into the quiet house. It’s not long until you hear shuffling coming from the hallway, signifying signs of life before Jaehyun’s sleepy face comes into view. He squints at you in the dark, hair a mess with his pyjama set on.
“Y/N?” he finally recognizes you, eyes probably having adjusted to the dim room.
“Happy hearts day, Jae,” you give him a rather sad and unenergetic greeting as you kick your heels off to the side and close the door behind you.
The bottles of alcohol you bought from the nearby grocery mart found their place on the dining table along with a half-eaten take out cake you ordered from your favourite café.
Your favourite café which your boyfriend had just ditched you in.
“That’s a lot of soju,” your best friend comments, switching the kitchen lights on. “And aren’t you supposed to be with Juyeon?” he quizzically looks at your face.
It takes the boy at least a minute to catch on. “What? Again?”
You nod, beer already in hand and popping it open with the opener you found lying on the counter.
Jaehyun was grabbing his own bottle, and you toss him the opener. “What was the excuse this time?”
Taking a big gulp, you sigh when the bottle leaves your lips. “He’s got a schedule,”
Jaehyun’s face looked bitter as he pulled the bottle away from his mouth, gulping down a good amount of its content.
“Bullshit,”
A smile comes up to your lips at your best friend’s frank judgment. In the 7 years you’ve worked in SM, Jaehyun has been by your side the entire ride. From rookie days to debut, you and the rest of SR15B have been the closest of friends. They’ve watched you succeed, fail, enter and leave relationships and were there to celebrate or mourn with you.
“Jae, come on. He’s a great guy,” was your only defense.
You’ve been dating Juyeon of The Boyz for quite some time now. He was hot, charming and sweet. Everything you’d want in a man, and more. But maybe you didn’t cut it, because in the 8 months you’ve been seeing each other, he’s flaked on dates not just once but countless of times. Usually using excuses like schedule conflicts or practice and recordings.
This was getting way too repetitive already, even for you. The rest of the 127 boys have had enough of having you around after you’ve been snubbed by your boyfriend.
“Anyway, let’s forget it. I haven’t seen you in a while, and where are the others?” you crept around the living room, expecting to see its usual inhabitants Yuta or Mark watching TV. Empty, the living room was dark.
Jaehyun follows behind you and gets comfortable on the couch. “I’ve been filming for Dear.M, and they all went out for barbeque but I was too tired to go,” he replied. Jaehyun pats the spot beside him and you slip into his arms easily, cradling the bottle like a baby.
“That’s a pity, but I’m glad I caught you,” you expressed. He hums in agreement, pushing on the remote control button and watching the TV come to life. You've spent numerous nights like this, cuddling up to your best friend.
And yet, it's never led to anything. Feelings, or even kisses. Tonight, something felt different.
As if the universe hated you, your boyfriend’s face comes on the TV which has you choking on the drink that’s halfway down your throat.
Jaehyun pats your back to soothe the liquid down, before you settle back on the couch with him. “Well, at least he wasn’t lying,” you shrug. You couldn’t see it, but Jaehyun’s annoyance was evident on his face. The boy took a deep sigh, rolling his eyes.
"Y/N, that’s pre-recorded. We were at this event," he points at the TV screen. “Look, it doesn’t indicate that it’s live,”
You weren’t an idiot, you just hoped Jaehyun didn’t notice and would pity you less.
The truth was, you knew Juyeon simply didn’t want to spend time with you, so he’d stay at his members’ dorm... or someone else's place... to avoid your presence. Juyeon didn’t have the heart to dump you, especially since you’ve done nothing but give him love and support.
To make matters worse, you have 9 best friends at your aid who are the textbook definition of intimidating. Which was sometimes the reason why you found it hard to see other people. The 127 boys have always been so protective over you.
The ball was in your court, and it was your move. You knew that breaking up with Juyeon would be the only option, but you loved the boy so much it made it hard. Your heart ached. You didn’t want to think about it, after all you came here to forget.
“Y/N,” Jaehyun’s voice pulls you out of your deep thinking. You tilt your head up to look at the boy, and he meets your eyes.
“Hmm?” your eyebrows raise themselves in question. You weren’t listening to what he was saying anymore. Suddenly, his lips became the most interesting thing in the world.
The way it moved as he spoke, his words came in one ear and out the other. Jaehyun closes his mouth, realizing that you weren’t listening anymore. “I’m gonna kiss you,”
You snapped out of your train of thoughts, pulling away from him in panic. “What?” your voice had raised a tone higher. Jaehyun chuckled, bringing the bottle back up to his lips and taking a sip.
“Anyway, now that I have your attention back,” he says. You knit your eyebrows together, perplexed. It’s way too early to be saying such things, you’re both only on your first bottle of soju. But then again, Jaehyun was a bit more lightweight.
“I was saying… leave him,” Jaehyun states, eyes dilated and cheeks red. Yup, he was tipsy already.
You set aside your nearly empty drink, and take his from his hands. Or at least you try. He doesn’t let go, but instead pulls you by the wrist. You’re jolted close to his face and you let out a small gasp, heart racing.
“Jaehyun, give me the bottle,” you try to free yourself from his rather firm grip, which only causes the boy to pull you closer. “Y/N, I can treat you better,” his voice had dropped low, almost to a whisper.
At this point, you were pretty sure it was the alcohol talking. It wasn’t unusual for the boys to be saying careless things when under the influence, but Jaehyun was never this way. The words he was speaking didn't seem to be from drunken thoughts, but instead from his sober subconscious.
Your heart was beating out of your chest, going faster than it ever has on any workouts you’ve done. Only Jaehyun had this effect on you, and it was wrong on so many levels. Your eyes drift down to his lips, just as you’d done earlier.
Juyeon. The picture of your boyfriend appeared in your head, which made you jump up from your seat and out of Jaehyun’s grasp. This was getting all too much for you to handle, you’ve only had one bottle of Soju.
“You’re freaking me the fuck out, Jae,” you grab your bottle from where you’d placed it on the floor, frantically downing the rest of its content before heading to the kitchen to grab another. Jaehyun gets on his feet, taking you by the hand this time. Sparks. You face him, and he towers over you. “I’m sorry. Can I be selfish for once?” he asks, and you’re frozen in place.
Jaehyun answers his own question by dipping his head lower to meet your lips in a kiss. His lips are soft, and gentle against yours. It doesn’t take a second longer before you were moving your lips along with his, and the bottle had fallen from your hands and you've taken purchase of his shirt, using it as a leverage to keep you from falling. His kiss was intoxicating enough to have you stumbling back and losing your balance.
Juyeon.
Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach as your boyfriend comes to mind again. You push Jaehyun away from you, guilt immediately washing over you like a wave. He looks at you, hurt and sadness clear in his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” you run your hands through your hair in frustration. “I have to go,” you don’t spare Jaehyun another glance as you make your way back to the door, not bothering to go back for the cake or any of the alcohol you very badly wanted in your system.
The door closes shut behind you, leaving Jaehyun alone in the living room ironically enough listening to the song of the man you’d just left him for.
The next time you see Jaehyun is on Inkigayo. Coming to congratulate your boyfriend for their comeback’s first win, it felt like a slap to Jaehyun’s face seeing you there for someone else.
He’d left you a series of texts after that night, apologizing and asking to talk. All of which you ignored, as you wallowed in your own guilt at your own choice. Yes, he initiated the kiss but you kissed him back.
“Congratulations!” you wore your brightest smile, walking towards your boyfriend and his fellow members with a cake in hand after their stage. They all cheer and excitedly huddle around you to blow the single candle on the cake.
Since it was in the lobby, it was Jaehyun’s terrible luck that he had to catch sight of Juyeon’s arm coming around your waist and pulling you closer before planting a kiss on your cheek. Juyeon makes sure to let his eyes hover over Jaehyun as he did so. You told him everything the next day.
The rest of the people in the lobby cooed for the cute couple, while Jaehyun felt everything with a sting on his heart.
As your eyes wandered the crowd, your gaze lands upon your best friend. The one who taught you love, the one you would have chosen over anybody in the world. Time seemingly stopped, and it was at this moment that you saw Jaehyun give you the smallest of smiles.
If he makes you happy…
He turns to leave. Clearly, you’ve made your choice. And it wasn’t him.
I’ll let you go now.
72 notes · View notes
the-lady-writes-what · 4 years ago
Text
Nightclub, Hero Edition
                                                 —080—
Post-break-up partying isn’t really your style, but when your friends drag you out to the nightclub, you don’t really have much of a say. You’re standing in line waiting to get in when a shiny sports car pulls up. Who should get out but Ground Zero and Mind Jack. The underground hero, Mind Jack (Hitoshi Shinsou), spots you in the crowd and keeps his eye on you all night. Evidently, so does his friend, Katsuki Bakugo. After a surprise run in with your ex, Neito Monoma, Hitoshi and Katsuki show off to Monoma how the two of them together can please you better than he ever could.
Katsuki Bakugo and Hitoshi Shinsou x Reader
All minor characters are aged up. I do not write minor x adult fiction.
                                                    —080—
Contents: public sex, voyeurism, threesome, fingering, light hair pulling, praise kink, double penetration, overstimulation
“The hell you mean, you can’t go?” Katsuki glared at his friend.
His fists clenched at his sides. One day out of the week out of the entire month. He had one night to blow off some steam, and there was nobody who could back him up. Eijiro nervously rubbed the back of his neck.
“Look, man, I’d love to, but I already made plans. Maybe you could find another wingman?”
“What’d you say? You think I’m gonna take some shitty extra with me on my one night off? I bust my balls every damn day for this freakin’ city, and I can’t even get my best wingman with me?”
Pro-hero work wasn’t what he expected it to be. Sure, he had the money, the clout, and the entourage of girls (and sometimes dudes) who fought each other for a millisecond of his time.
“Mina’s been planin’ this thing for weeks now. I can’t just back out now,” said Eijiro.
Katsuki’s eyes flitted to someone else in the group. Denki felt the immediate power of Katsuki’s anger in one glance. Denki threw his hands up in that universal sign of surrender.
“Don’t look at me, dude. I’m on duty that night. Besides, maybe if you weren’t into kinky shit—”
Katsuki slammed his palm on the table. A silent threat to blow it up. His face screwed up into that gremlin mask he wore when he was extra obnoxious. But at a closer look, one could barely see the tinge of red in his cheeks.
“When I need your opinion, Spark Plug, I’ll ask for it!” Katsuki grabbed his drink and started angrily draining it as he slouched in his chair.
“What if I called Shinsou?” Denki offered.
“Why’d I do a stupid thing like that?”
“Because you’d be surprised about how much you and Shinsou have in common?” Denki was already scrolling through his phone as if looking for something. “He doesn’t patrol on Saturdays, and he’s single. What’s the worse thing that could happen?”
Katsuki growled while Denki texted. Denki’s phone pinged every time Shinsou sent a response. Denki put his phone into Katsuki’s face.
“See? Looks like he’s down for it!”
Katsuki swatted Denki’s hand away. Chewing on his straw, he was forced to choke down his pride. He had only a few words with Shinsou, and he didn’t like the guy. He didn’t like many people either, but did he have much a choice if everybody else was bailing on him? It wasn’t as much fun all by oneself.
“J-Just, tell him to meet me at Supernova. Nine o’clock sharp, and he better not show up in a shitty outfit either.”
This outfit wasn’t your idea. Your friends put you in those skimpy little jean shorts and a pink midriff-baring top just as they put you up to come out tonight. You’d rather watch Netflix in bed wearing a comfy hoodie. Would you be stuffing your face with your favorite ice cream? Yes. Going out to nightclubs with your girlfriends and drinking away, your sorrows wasn’t usually how to get over a break-up. You are a fully grown woman and wanted to decide how best to get over a two-year-long relationship. You really should have thought of that before you got friends.
Two of the four girls dragging out into the night after dollying you up were already tipsy. Pre-game partying, they call it. You’d literally rather be anywhere but out tonight.
The five of you wait in line for fifteen minutes waiting to get in. A flashy red car pulls up and parks. You watch with scrutinizing eyes who steps out. Camera phones are flashing in the vehicle’s direction as soon as the passengers exit. You recognized the blonde by his scowl. Ground Zero. But the other one? You have no idea. He looks like the underground hero, Mind Jack, but since there were so few pictures of him on the internet, you couldn’t be sure. Fangirls screamed and pressed against the velvet ropes as the gentlemen sauntered up to the front of the line. You craned your next in time to see Bakugo flash a VIP pass, which permitted him and his friend early entrance into the nightclub. Just before they went in, Mind Jack looked down the line of those waiting before his eyes landed on you. You flush red as he glanced at you and gave you a knowing smirk. Mind Jack quickly followed behind Bakugo into the nightclub.
Your friends stared and asked incessant questions. They had less of an idea who Bakugo was bringing with him, but they all seemed to agree that he was hot. You couldn’t deny the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. There was something about his penetrating glance that made your insides warm and fuzzy.
You were to wait another twenty minutes before even getting inside to find out why you caught his attention. Half your friends went to the bar while the other half tried to drag you out onto the dance floor. You barely managed to escape and find your own secluded spot at the bar where your other friends couldn’t see you. Your only drink for the night was going to be that bottle of beer, and that was it. Exciting, no, but you planned to arrive home mostly sober enough to binge watch that new romantic comedy until daybreak and avoid going home with a complete stranger. Anonymous sex just wasn’t your type of post-break-up healing routine.
You stood against the wall watching other people have their fun. The music was something you could probably dance to, but maybe after you finished sipping your beer. As you scrolled through your social media after becoming bored with people-watching, you suddenly looked up. You could not escape the sensation of someone watching you. You glanced around the nightclub in a panic then settled on the cause of your anxiety. Indigo eyes were eating you up from across the dance floor. He was seated in a VIP lounge with Bakugo. His friend seemed more interested in talking than he was, which suited him just fine as it allowed him to stare at you.
A shiver ran down your spine. Mind Jack couldn’t want anything from you, could he? You thought about all the girls your ex-boyfriend compared you to. You were too prudish, and when you did have sex, you weren’t all that adventurous. You wanted to like sex just like everybody else did. Whether it was you or your partners, you couldn’t tell. You sipped your beer, chiding yourself.
This is a mistake. I should just check out and go home.
You almost turned to find one of your friends when Mind Jack caught your eye again. You glanced up at him to see Mind Jack whispering something to Bakugo. He had his hand cupping his mouth so you couldn’t tell what he was saying. Not that it made a difference at any rate with the club’s pulsing, beating music thrumming in your ears. To your shock, Bakugo turned his red eyes towards you.
You couldn’t help swallowing hard and downed the rest of your drink. You thought it best to sneak away and grab one of your friends before you did something silly and out of character. You tiptoed unto the dance floor, brushing past gyrating, sweating bodies. Two of your friends joined the others dancing and didn’t even hear you calling out to them. A pair of strong hands reached out and touched your waist.
“At least let me talk to you before you start running for the hills.” A voice said next to your ears.
You gulped again. You never heard this voice before but felt its timber shoot pleasure all the way down your spine. You felt the warmth of his body pressing against you.
“Um,” you licked your lips. “I’ve never done this before. I-I don’t really go out to clubs.”
“Relax. I’m not going to bite.” The stranger spun you around to face him.
You faced those indigo eyes up close and personal. This close, you could see the dark shadows beneath his eyes. He was pale beneath the strobe lights.
“Unless you’re into that sort of thing,” he chuckled.
“Are you, are you at least going to give me a name before you try to dance with me?” You stammered.
“Mind Jack, but you can call me Hitoshi.”
“Is it safe for you to give me your real name? Being an underground hero and all?” You asked.
“Let’s just say I’m very comfortable getting to you. How about you give me your name, or else I’ll start calling you kitty.”
Your face turned beet red, and it wasn’t because of the alcohol you just finished off. Shinsou pulled you close to him so that your bodies pressed together.
“Y-Y/N L/N. I’m Y/N L/N.”
“Well, L/N, can I have this dance?”
“S-Sure,” you answered.
Hitoshi lowered his hands to your hips and looked for permission. You laced your arms on his shoulders and nodded. Throughout the first song, you apologized for not knowing how to dance and stepping on his toes. Hitoshi squeezed your hips, and you couldn’t deny how his hand felt on you. Your lower belly was full of butterflies at this point. You wondered if a single bottle was all it took to make you lose all inhibitions. You were lost in your own thoughts as well as Shinsou’s burning gaze when a voice pulled you out of your reverie.
“Mind if I cut in?”
You knew that voice. It couldn’t be. Could it?
You were spun around landed in the chest of none other than Katsuki Bakugo, Ground Zero himself. Your face turned a brighter shade of red. Your body moved parallel to his as the music pulsed in your ears. Katsuki’s hands wandered to your lower back and hip as he pulled you close. He leaned his head towards your neck. His warm breath ghosted over your skin, giving rise to goosebumps. Your heart fluttered in your chest. Your nails dug into his shoulders as if begging him to stop or continue; you could no longer tell at this point.
Another set of hands pulled you away or tried to. Katsuki’s hold on you was too strong to remove you entirely away from him. Hitoshi appeared behind you. His hand reached behind the back of your neck and turned your face towards his. Katsuki kissed the juncture of where your shoulder met your neck while Hitoshi claimed your lips. You moaned at the dual sensation of two men kissing different parts of you at the same time. Your legs instantly turned into Jell-O. If not for the set of hands holding you up, it would be easy for your legs to give out from beneath you and make you collapse on the floor. Alcohol officially had nothing to do with you making out with one pro-hero while another kissed your neck. Hitoshi ran his tongue along your bottom lip, silently asking for permission for entrance. Slowly, you opened your mouth to permit him. Hands ran up and down your torso and the top of your thighs. Between them, you were gripped, groped, and caressed in ways at your ex would have never. You became lost in the flavor of Hitoshi when you heard a deriding laugh even above the pounding music.
You didn’t realize that you closed your eyes the moment Hitoshi started kissing you. When you opened them again, standing before you with a sneer on his face was your ex-boyfriend, Neito Monoma. His arms were crossed over his chest as he looked at you stuck between two men.
“It’s been less than what? A week? Couldn’t decide which one, so you decide to be a slut with both of them?” Said Neito.
“Hey, Monoma,” said Hitoshi.
“Wh—”
He stupidly fell right into Hitoshi’s trap. Neito stood there dumbly in the middle of the dance floor with that vacant stare.
“Monoma, stand there and watch us please your former girlfriend better than you could.”
Katsuki chuckled against your skin. “Yeah, ya damn extra. Stand over there with that dumb, shitty look on your face.”
Katsuki’s hand slipped into your shorts. With everyone drunk and dancing and the lights pulsating, the dimly lit nightclub gave him plenty of coverage. His fingers quickly found your clit. You shivered when Katsuki began to work you into a fit. Your back arched forward, but Hitoshi’s arm snaked around your stomach to keep you close to him. Hitoshi’s lips graced your neck, kissing and sucking at your skin. Katsuki picked up the pace of his fingers to match the fast beat of the music drumming in your ears. Your gaze fixed on Monoma, who could do nothing.
Katsuki slammed his mouth on yours while the rough pace of his fingers never faltered. You moaned against him as his tongue viciously, hungrily explored your mouth. Hitoshi secreted his hand beneath your shirt and cupped your breast through your bra. The sensations made you forget that you were in the middle of a nightclub dance floor. Your back arched like a bow. Your eyes closed and screwed tight as Katsuki brought you over the edge. You moaned into his mouth with your hands, reaching for his hair and pulling hard. Your hips bucked against him as the waves of pleasure crashed into you. When you finally came down from your high, Hitoshi helped support you against his firm chest. Katsuki slowly pulled away. He and Hitoshi quickly rearranged your clothes to make you look as inconspicuous as possible. That was a little easier said than done with your completely blissed out face and the thin sheen of sweat covering your body.
“Hey, Kitty,” said Hitoshi. He whispered next to your ear. “Wanna take this party elsewhere?”
You glanced at Monoma. He was set free from Hitoshi’s quirk, but he still stood there. His face was red. Looking down, evidence of his arousal embarrassingly stood out like a sore thumb. Monoma gave you one final sneer before running off.
Whether to hide his hard-on or take care of it, you didn’t care to know.
“Who’s place?” You asked hoarsely.
You had your arm on Hitoshi’s back, and he put his hand on your shoulder. You walked out of the club like that with Katsuki leading the way. You quickly sent a text to your friends that you met somebody. Judging by how many people were staring at your exit, it was safe to say that they would have figured out who you were going out within no time at all.
Hitoshi rode in the back with you while Katsuki drove. Five minutes into the car ride, Hitoshi worked the button off your shorts and wriggled his hand inside. He kissed you fiercely, occasionally looking into the rearview mirror to glance at Katsuki. What was he doing egging Katsuki on? Katsuki shifted in the driver’s seat with each passing glance at you and Hitoshi fooling around in the back of his car.
Hitoshi’s fingers weren’t as thick and calloused as Katsuki’s, but the slim fingers felt too damn good. You were moaning into Hitoshi’s kiss. You reached up and pulled his hair as he slipped his fingers into your panties and between your slick folds. He pumped his fingers slowly, at first, inside of your slit. One finger, then two, and as soon as you were a proper mess for him, Hitoshi added a third. He broke away from the kiss to watch you ride his fingers.
Your sensitive body jolted with every thrust of his fingers. Your hips bucked into his hand, and you rode him until you saw stars. Katsuki pulled into the driveway of his miniature mansion, opened the garage door, and pulled in. The car was secured, and the door closed. He turned off the radio. The wet squelching your cunt made taking three of Hitoshi’s fingers filled the car. You hadn’t even realized that the car had been turned off. Katsuki shifted in the driver’s seat to get a good look at you.
“Come for me.” Hitoshi kissed your ear.
You obeyed. It didn’t take much to have you coming again. Drool seeped out of the corner of your mouth as your inner walls clenched around his fingers. Hitoshi pulled out slowly. He gave his index finger a long suck, humming as he enjoyed the taste of you.
“How does she taste?” Asked Katsuki.
“So good. I can’t wait to taste the rest of her.”
Hitoshi helped you out of the car and carried you up to Katsuki’s bedroom. Even in your delirium, Katsuki’s bed appeared bigger than it needed to be. He laid you out on the pillows, hair fanning the silk and goose feathers. Your shoes were taken off but not the rest of your attire. You sat up a little as Katsuki and Hitoshi slowly pulled off their clothes. They climbed in bed with you completely naked.
Just like before, you were pressed between them. Hot hands and nimble fingers worked under your clothes, caressed your skin, and gave you goosebumps. Katsuki and Hitoshi took turns kissing your lips until you couldn’t tell whose tongue was shoved down your throat. Your outfit was simple enough and easy to remove. Piece by piece, it was all taken away and thrown into some unknown corner of the room. Your nipples were pinched until they looked more like rosebuds. On your breasts, neck, and shoulders bloomed dark bruises. You sighed into their touches, kisses, and love bites.
Hitoshi slipped his slender fingers back into you and teased your hot, wet slit. Warmth pooled inside your lower belly. He pumped his fingers slowly in and out.
“Fuck, she’s soaked down here.” Hitoshi sucked your neck. “I don’t think she can take much more of this.”
You shook your head in agreement. Your brain was fuzzy with lust and anticipation. You came twice already and just with their fingers. How much better would it feel with their cocks? Those turgid members pressed against your lower back and your stomach. You felt the ridges of each, and the hard lengths made your wall clench. This felt wrong, taking two men at once, but so, so right.
“God, please fuck me. One or the other, both, I don’t care. I can’t pick, just please somebody fuck me!” You begged.
Katsuki kissed you hard. He stole your breath away, and only when it seemed that he took more than your breath, he released you, licking your lips.
“I love a girl who knows what she wants.”
He pulled away to settle down on the pillows and leaned against the headboard. Katsuki curled his finger towards you in a ‘come hither’ motion. You crawled on the bed up to him. Katsuki’s hands seized your hips and forced you to straddle his hips. His thick, rigid member protruded against the crack of your ass. Hitoshi wasn’t far behind. The mattress dipped under his weight as he crawled behind you. His hands reached in front of you and groped your breasts.
“Ever had two cocks at the same time?” Asked Katsuki.
Your mind was too focused on Hitoshi’s experienced hands playing with your breasts and pulling your nipples taut. All you could do was shake your head. You couldn’t help but feel a little naïve with the two men who obviously had more experience than you.
“Then you’re in for a treat. Come here, princess.”
Katsuki pushed you back slightly and lifted you up. You were placed over his cock before letting you sink slowly unto it. The ridges and veins of his cock brushed against your walls to create even more slick. The entrance was painless despite his size and his length almost brushing your cervix. You straddled Katsuki’s hips with his cock buried deep. Your cunt felt so full that you were left in awe and your jaw hitting the ground. Katsuki grabbed your arms to pull you flush on top of him, your soft breasts against his hard muscles.
He kissed you again, this time distracting you from Hitoshi pressing behind you. You squeaked when felt the blunt end of Hitoshi’s cock press against your already stuffed entrance. His fingers squeezed inside and pumped. You cried out as you were slowly spread open wider. Hitoshi pushed and pushed his cock inside of your walls until there was no more room for even a pinky finger.
You moaned into Katsuki’s chest. Unceasingly, your cries filled the room—pain mixed with the pleasure which made you drool. Hitoshi tried to pull out, but you groped behind you and found his hand.
“Gimme, gimme a minute. It feels…so good,” you whined.
Both of them allowed you several minutes to adjust to their cocks being inside of your cunt at the same time. Somewhere in the middle of waiting for you, one of them started petting your head like you were a cat. You couldn’t but mewl like one as you tried to move your hips stuffed full.
“You ready, princess? You sure about that? Because once I start, I’m not fucking finishing until I’ve got my cum spilling out of you.”
Katsuki bucked his hips upwards. You gasped, and your eyes flew wide open. Hitoshi moved forward. The tight fit of those two made you sit up slightly and grab the headboard. Your knuckles turned bone-white with how hard you gripped the carved wood. Hitoshi and Katsuki moved in tandem with each other. Katsuki’s rough hands palmed your breasts. His groping was harsher than Hitoshi’s, but you liked the feel of being so nicely abused like this. His teeth grated your stiff nipples. Katsuki pulled one into his mouth and sucked hard.
You tossed your head back. Hitoshi’s hands ran up and down your sides and all the way down your thighs. He grunted against your shoulder, murmuring how tight and wet you were for them. Grabbing some part of you, they began moving faster within you. Tears and sweat comingled on your face as you rode them both. Your ships could barely keep up with their powerful thrusts sending you into heaven. You clung to the headboard for dear life.
The sound of wet flesh slamming together resounded in your ears along with their compliments. Never had you heard such lewd things whispered or shouted at you in the heat of passion.
“There you go, Y/N. Just like that. Taking it like a pro,” said Hitoshi as he nibbled your ear. “Your first time too, I’m honored, kitty.”
Katsuki stopped suckling on your breasts long enough to groan himself. He played with your tits some more and pumped himself harder into you. His hot length reaches your cervix, making you scream.
“Oh, fuck, yeah. I love all those pretty sounds you make,” Katsuki grunted.
You couldn’t speak. At least, nothing that would be comprehensible. Words came out as a garbled mess. Your vocal cords were more preoccupied with moaning and screaming as you were rammed in both directions. Your hips moved faster. You were no longer in control of your own body, but it moved towards one goal without you. Hitoshi and Katsuki matched your speed then surpassed it. They both gripped your hips to pin them down and take full control.
“Be a good girl and let us finish you off, okay?” Said Hitoshi, and he pecked your cheek.
“Let us take care of you like a good slutty princess that you are,” said Katsuki, bruising your hips while Hitoshi grabbed your thighs.
You didn’t move but allowed them to do what they pleased. You were pressed, squeezed, and bounced on their cocks with more enthusiasm than you thought they could muster. An erratic pace was set until both of their cockheads brushed against that secret spot inside your body. You couldn’t tell which one came first, but the result was the same. As ropes of cum filled your insides, you basked the warmth of it. Searing white-hot pleasure speared down your back, reached down into your lower belly, and exploded. You could bare scream as your walls clenched around the two cocks.
Hitoshi kissed your shoulders as he pulled out with all gentleness in mind. “Very good. Yeah, just like that. Good job,” he praised.
Katsuki carefully did the same. You hissed at the emptiness after having been stretched so wide that your womb might burst. Slick cum seeped out of your cunt just like Katsuki promised. Hitoshi fetched a glass of water, and he and Katsuki helped you drink it without spilling it all over your front.
“Drink slowly, dumbass. You don’t want to make yourself sick, do you?” Katsuki griped.
After such rigorous activities, it was no wonder that all three of you landed in a sweaty yet sated pile on Katsuki’s enormous bed. Silken covers were pulled over you, while your eyelids drooped closed. Two sets of arms snaked around your waist. You were too tired to tell the boys to share. There was plenty of you to go around.
“In other news, pro-hero Ground Zero is once again under fire for yet another controversy. He was seen at the nightclub Supernova, arriving with underground hero Mind Jack. Ground Zero and Mind Jack were seen by witnesses dancing with a young woman. Some witnesses state that Ground Zero put his hand inside the woman’s clothing and performed an explicit act with her in the middle of the dance floor…”
Retired UA professor, Shouta Aizawa, stopped listening to the news report. He pinched the bridge of his nose while he wondered what he had done in a former life to deserve this.
“Goddamit,” he sighed.
                                                  —080—
EDIT: I realized just before posting there is one small continuity problem. Bakugo told Kaminari to tell Shinsou to meet him at the nightclub, but I wrote that they arrive together in Bakugo’s car. It’s going to stay like that because I’ve been trying to write this thing for hours and I’m too lazy to worry about something like that. Forgive me. Let’s just pretend that Shinsou has a car break down or something.Also, I wouldn’t necessarily label this as Bakugo x Reader x Shinsou, as that implies Bakugo x Shinsou. Not that there’s anything wrong with that ship, but I feel like they’re both Dom’s in the fan fiction canon. I’d have to see or write more interactions with them before labeling an entire chapter as previously stated. That being said, you can interpret it as polyamory anyway. I’m not going to be mad if you do.
Original found here
221 notes · View notes
juyeonau-main · 4 years ago
Text
drifted
Tumblr media
pairing: eric x reader ft. sunwoo, hyunjae and younghoon
genre: angst, suggestive, exes au, requested
word count: 2.2k
requested by: anon
warnings: bad breakup, mature language, mature themes, alcohol intake, smoking, parties, mentions of vomit, blood, anxiety 
prompt: “all my demons have your smile, in the city of angels” from la la lost you by niki
synopsis: after some time avoiding each other even if it was inevitable, he called you very late at night, wanting two things before he leaves; a last kiss and some closure.
“Eric what’s wrong please tell me, please just tell me what the hell you’re thinking! We’re so detached from one another, we’ve drifted apart. Please I wanna know what’s keeping you so quiet nowadays, please tell me!” you say as you walk behind him in the hallways. Not even caring if other people watched. He walks to the end of the hallway to the door to the field. You grab his arm and he shakes it off you, looking at you with a soft frown with harsh eyes. 
“I’m breaking up with you, I’m tired, leave me alone.” he says. You gasp, “I don’t understand why are you being like this?” He flinches at the face you made. He hated seeing you in pain, and the moment you asked him the question your voice croaked as your mouth quivered. 
He breathes deeply, “I just want to be alone.” 
So you left him, clenching your fists as you stomp away with tears falling out of your eyes.
“Y/n baby!” you hear Hyunjae say with his arms open, and Sunwoo called for you as he walked by the halls. But the moment you looked at him, his face frowned, eyebrows furrowed and pulled you to him, hugging you as you cried. 
You sigh as you sit on the rooftop of your friend’s house. Currently at a house party you never wanted to attend. Hyunjae was lonely, needed company, but he didn’t seem to need you the moment more and more people mistook his small gathering as a ‘party.’ 
And there he goes, in the swimming pool with only his boxers and a bottle of vodka. You roll your eyes. You would usually want to join in on the fun, but today wasn’t a good day. Hyunjae knew that, and that’s why he wanted a ‘small’ gathering in the first place. Maybe you gave him the benefit of the doubt, that the people just suddenly appeared was out of his control. Besides, this could help him cope with the emptiness he was feeling.
The feeling of losing someone. 
But why were you so bothered that night you avoided contact with the people you liked to have fun with? Why is it so easy for you to leave parties when you’re usually the last to leave? 
Because on the walk to Hyunjae’s, you’ve seen the boy who’s broken your heart. “Sohn Eric.” you mumble his name as you look at the night sky. You and him had a pretty stable relationship, but there was always something off with him the few months before he finally left you. Eric had been your best friend since pre-school, decided to date you so suddenly in the tenth grade, and now as you’re about to graduate, he breaks it off. It’s been a few months, one more and it’s been half a year since you’ve been together. You think it was shitty, him breaking it off with you so coldly like those years never meant anything. And it was during your midterms too, how could someone be so selfish? Couldn’t he at least wait after midterms?
As much as you’d like to avoid him, he’s always there. What could you do? You both are literally on the same campus, you’re friends with his friends even before you were together, your best friend is Kim Sunwoo who’s literally always with him too. You hug your legs, resting your chin on your knees as your eyes follow Hyunjae swimming from side to side in a drunken state. 
You stayed quiet for a while, but you felt someone tap your shoulder. “Sunwoo, hey.” you tell him, patting the space beside you. He was only in his boxers too, hair dripping wet, probably swam. And he reeked of alcohol. “Are you drunk and horny? Cause I’d rather not do it with you. You’re hot, but drunk, and I’ve lost enough people by locking lips with them, but then again I’m pretty lonely.” 
Sunwoo chuckles, “I’m a bit tipsy but Hyunjae drinking in the pool made the vodka mix into the water. It’s for sure ninety percent alcohol and ten percent water now if it was possible. I smell horrible but yeah, swimming was… interesting. Wish you were there with me fucking everyone up though.” 
“Probably not, but please tell Hyunjae to take it easy, I’m fucking concerned.” you say with a sigh. 
He hums, “let him. He’s the older one between us three, and he’d beat my ass if I try anything. He’s probably in his own world now.” 
You both look up, thoughts both filled up your minds as you count each star, and how Sunwoo traced each one together. But he found the silent too awkward and broke it off, with something he knew you couldn’t stay silent about. “I heard the Eric thing. How are you both by the way? I asked him but he never told me about it. And we’re the closer ones, so could you give me anything?”
“Funny. I’m vulnerable and you use this tactic on me to talk, I hate you.” you grunt and moved further. 
Sunwoo scrunches his nose and slides, sitting closer to you than before. Both shoulders touching, you could already feel the cloth of your sweater getting drenched with the wetness of his skin. “Though, I kinda owe you an answer since you literally worked your ass off to keep us together whenever we fought. But I honestly don’t know. Like we’ve broken up, we’re trying to leave it in the past, but we can’t seem to face each other; which is fine, like I’d want to see his face.”
“It’s a face you kissed.” Sunwoo says, making the kiss sound.
You cringe at him and say a cold, “whatever.”
He laughs and asks you, “had Eric he’d ever try? Like to get back with you?” 
And your answer, “I don’t know. I blocked his number so he probably couldn’t call me.” 
Sunwoo pouts at your statement and wraps an arm around your shoulders. You try to swat him away, “you’re going to make me wet!” you say as you try to push him from you, but realizing the statement you just made you mentally face palmed. “That sounds so wrong fuck!” you say and giggle at yourself. Sunwoo still hadn’t let go, you could feel his warmth around you and his warm breath by your cheek. 
You don’t know what it is but the sudden company of Sunwoo had made you crave something. A tender touch perhaps? A small kiss? You denied him before he even tried anything, nor not even knowing if he had the intention to or not. Were you lonely? Maybe, but you didn’t know what was happening. Yes you had a bit to drink before the small gathering was thrashed for you, but you felt sober. “Sunwoo I-” you say, he looks at you but before you could’ve done anything your phone rings beside you with an unknown caller. 
“Answer, it looks familiar.” he says with a smile. “Well, I’ll go because I’m literally slipping. Also, tell me what happens, okay?” he waves and you were left dumbfounded. 
“Sunwoo what do you...mean.” you look back and he was no longer there. How slick. 
You answer your phone, shakily bringing up to your ear. Sunwoo’s words add onto your anxiety. “Hello?” you say with a shaky breath. 
And the moment the opposite line began to speak, you froze. “Y/n, go home, I’m at your front door, I need to tell you something.” and he ends the call. You didn’t know what to feel, but your body moved for you.
You quickly go down the rooftop, climbing down the tree and walking inside the house. Bottles everywhere, food scattered. The smell of smoke, bottles and vomit were everywhere. There was even dried blood by the living room. You go to the front door, meeting Younghoon by the staircase with a cigarette. “Leaving so soon?” 
“Too boring for me.” you tell him. 
He shrugs, “it’s cause you’re sober.”
“I don’t need to be drunk to have fun. Now I have to go, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, hopefully you’re not as ruined as the rest.” you give him a genuine smile, and he replies with a grin. He takes a puff on his stick and you grab your coat by the side, and head out. 
It wasn’t a long walk. You had your hands in your pocket as you took your time to get home. You were nervous, you could’ve just blocked the number, but something told you to just give him what you wanted. 
After a few more minutes, there was the boy who’d requested for your appearance, strangely at your own home sitting at the front porch. As you open the gate and enter, he looks up and stands. “Y/n.” 
“Say what you want and leave.” Maybe you were too harsh on him. But as you feel guilty you remember the scene that liked to reappear in your dreams. 
“What if I want to be with you for now?”
You scoff at him, looking at him wide eyed as you try to repeat what he’d just said. “Excuse me?” you say, holding yourself back without giving him a slap. 
“I’d like to be with you, and I just… I know this is the right thing to do. So please hear me out before I say my last goodbye.” 
“Last hello too, huh.” you say in spite. 
He sighs, “please just let me, please?” he pleads, giving you the tilt of the head you can’t seem to resist. “Okay, then we’ll talk inside.” you say and push him to the side. 
You crouch as you lift your home’s rug, grabbing the key and unlocking your home. “Come on.” you say as your gesture for him to come inside with a nod. 
You both settle down on your living room’s couch as Eric sits comfortably. You hated it, the way he’s being so calm while you’re about to burst. The mere sight of him hurt you, and you were really hurt. But how could he come here and act like he never did anything? 
“I miss you, all my demons have your smile, in the city of angels.” he says so suddenly, but you hadn’t bought it. 
“If you’re going to sweet talk me, just leave.” 
He frowns, and leans towards you. You moved back, yet he crawled on the couch, til you leaned on its end. You push him off, a look of horror on your face, the feeling of betrayal once again, heart pounding as he looked at you with sad eyes. His hand on his chest as he tried to calm it down. 
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you say. Spitting out more shouts of anger, getting nearer and nearer on him on the couch. You get on his lap as you hit his chest, but your thighs wrapping unconsciously around him like it was always used to. He held your hands and hugged you. 
“I’m leaving Y/n. I’m moving… back to LA.” He looks at your eyes. You pushed yourself away from him. 
You open your mouth, looking around you as you try to form a sentence. You force out your words, each space filled with a choked sob. “Is this why you broke up with me?” You wanted to throw up. It was too much for you to handle, this was too much. 
“I thought it would be better if… you end up hating me.”
Your hand comes in contact with his cheek. “I’m fine with a fucking long distance relationship! I’m fine! Why didn’t you tell me? We always told each other that…” you say, but you were dissociating. Your head spinning, you look at his eyes. You’ve seen this before, like deja vu. 
“Because I won’t be coming back. I’d stay there, and I don’t want you to be lonely. I know Sunwoo likes you. I just know he’d be a better fit. Besides, you would’ve dated him if he asked first.” Eric says with a chuckle. 
“But you’re the one I love Eric.” you say softly. Yet your mood changes quick, “fuck you. You’re just saying this for your selfish gain. You’re the one who doesn’t want to suffer.” you say, sobs in between. 
You wipe your tears. Eric stays silent for a moment, and maybe you were right. Maybe he doesn’t want to suffer, he doesn’t have the patience to wait til he could finally go back. And you were his first girlfriend. Time spent with you was vulnerable, but maybe you needed to break apart. Maybe you two were never meant for each other. 
“Can I at least have one last request?” he asks. You remove your hands from your eyes. Face puffy and eyes sore. Eric was right in front of you with a sad smile, and you couldn’t help but just give in, nodding weakly. 
He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. You gasp at his sudden action, but you thought to yourself that this was meant to happen. And crashes your lips together, feeling each other's tears run down your faces. 
Closure. 
55 notes · View notes
prydon · 4 years ago
Note
oh i adore ur writing, do u take prompts by any chance? if u do, would u ever consider writing a fic inspired by the recent drunk juno and smitten peter art? thank u, have a nice day 💞
thank you for liking my writing!!! :D tbh i haven’t considered myself enough of a fic writer to take prompts in years, but i loved that art and i love writing jupeter so much that i just had to give this a go.
so here you go! inspired by this WONDERFUL art by @honeyjarr. you can read it on ao3 here or down below! 
set post-man in glass but pre jupeter being in an established relationship. CWs for alcohol consumption, brief reference to sarah steel being sarah steel, minor injuries, and non-explicit talking/joking about sex.
----
Nureyev had never seen Juno Steel drunk before.
For all his insistence that he was ‘getting drunker by the second’ back in his apartment on that fated night when Nureyev had gifted him a name and kiss, Nureyev knew he had been far from truly drunk, then. Juno was a broad man, and one with a long history of drinking. Unlike Nureyev, he held his liquor well.
Now, on board the Carte Blanche, he had been trying to cut down on his alcohol consumption. It was part of his recovery, part of leaving behind the mess of poor coping mechanisms and bad decisions that used to make up Detective Juno Steel.
So when Buddy had pulled out the bottle, it was only with assurance from Jet and Juno that they were both okay with it- and when Juno had asked her to pour him a glass, he did so with the promise that he wasn’t using the alcohol to deal with any bad feelings that ought to be handled another way.
“Rita and I used to get drunk sometimes and watch the lowest-rated streams we could find,” he said. “It was…fun.”
Rita nodded enthusiastically. “Mistah Steel would always start yelling and throwing popcorn at the screen!”
“Very well, then,” Buddy said. “I trust your judgement, Juno.”
Nureyev kept one eye on Juno as he sipped his own drink, curious. What kind of a drunk was Juno? Sobbing? Angry? …Handsy?
He folded his hope for the latter away.
Nureyev seldom ever drank, and never on the job. It was too risky. Drinking meant losing your inhibitions, losing control over your emotions, and if there was anything that Nureyev desperately didn’t want to lose, it was that. His persona was perfectly crafted. He couldn’t risk letting a bottle of wine or liquor crumble it.
He was already tipsy after his first glass, which was embarrassing. He intended to stop there- to perhaps ask for a refill, but only pretend to sip it before surreptitiously dumping it. As soon as the second one was poured, however, he found himself actually drinking it.
Something about these people made him feel safe enough to allow some loss of inhibition. That realization terrified him, but he kept drinking nonetheless.
Juno had almost finished his third glass, and only now seemed to be feeling the effects of it. He was talking more loudly than he had been before, and his eyes were slightly unfocused. He shot Nureyev a glance and the thief took another sip, mostly just to hide the blush that was creeping up his face courtesy of both the alcohol and the sight of Juno, who was looking handsomely disheveled with his hair mussed and his sweater slipped down around his shoulders.
After Jet excused himself to bed early, they somehow ended up in a game of Never Have I Ever, which Nureyev had never heard of but Juno insisted was a staple among schoolkids in Oldtown.
“All right!” Rita said. “Never have I ever…done it in a public place.”
Nureyev raised an eyebrow. “If by ‘it’, you mean sexual intercourse…” He took a drink, and then nearly spat it back out when he saw Juno drink, too.
“What?” Juno said innocently. “You drank.”
“You’re both gross,” Vespa growled at them.
“Really? In all your life, you’ve never once given in to the heat of the moment?” Nureyev asked, trying to distract himself from his own brain, which was currently insistent on conjuring up artist’s interpretations of Juno on a park bench, or in a theater, or-
“It’s private! You do it inside!”
“Sometimes you just don’t have many options!” Juno protested.
“Ugh, whatever. Here, I’ll go next…”
Nureyev was very, very bad at the game, as it turned out. What could he say: he was an adventurous man, and one who’d lived a rich life. He wasn’t going to apologize for that. It didn’t hurt that Juno was drinking almost as often as he was, either. He carefully filed away all of the lady’s responses to the various statements, mentally marking some as being in desperate need of further follow up.
Juno Steel had never swum in the ocean.
Juno Steel had set a cop car on fire.
Juno Steel had participated in a foursome.
It was all very important information. Nureyev only hoped he’d actually remember it tomorrow. That was seeming less and less likely, the tipsier he got. He tried to take small sips throughout the game, but by the time it had ended, he knew he was gone. He’d regret letting that happen once he was sober, of course, but right now he couldn’t bring himself to care.
“I think that’s enough for this evening,” Buddy said after a while, seeming to sense that both Nureyev and Juno were looking rather worse for the wear.
“One more!” Rita insisted. “Never have I ever…almost fallen out a window ‘cause I was chasing after a love letter.”
“Rita!” Juno exclaimed. “I told you that in confidence! Plus, that doesn’t count. It’s targeting! That’s…against the rules!”
“There ain’t no rules, Mistah Steel!”
“Ugh, fine,” Juno said, and drank.
Nureyev couldn’t help being curious, and even- ridiculously- jealous. Who had written Juno a love letter? Who had Juno cared so much about that even he, acrophobic as he was, had been willing to nearly jump out a window to save a note from them?
By all means, it could have happened decades ago. There was no reason to be envious. Nureyev had realized that he was prone to envy when it came to Juno Steel, however, and the alcohol was likely just heightening the emotion.
“Mistah Ransom’s got a funny look on his face,” Rita commented.
“Yeah, ‘cause he knows it was his letter,” Juno grumbled.
“Really!? Mistah Steel, you never told me that!”
“…Didn’t come up.”
Nureyev froze, feeling something warm spread through him. Ah. “You…kept my note? I didn’t realize.”
“Don’t have it anymore. It got lost somewhere along the way. It’s been…a hectic past few months,” Juno said, sounding genuinely upset by the loss. Then he frowned. “What, Ransom, did you really not realize Rita was talking about your note?”
“I…”
A wide smile spread over Juno’s face. “Oh, my god. Your expression a moment ago…were you jealous of yourself!?”
Nureyev felt himself turn beet red. “N- no.”
“You were!”
Juno burst out laughing. Unlike his usual laughs, which on the rare occasions that they surfaced were quiet and restrained, almost as though he didn’t believe he was deserving of laughter, this one was loud and unburdened. It was a full body laugh, and it lit Juno up so beautifully that Nureyev could almost forget that it was at was at his expense.
Nureyev could guess, then, what kind of drunk Juno was. He was the kind whose current predominate emotion, whatever it was, was exacerbated by the alcohol. When he was sad, he’d end up crying into his drinks. When he was angry, there would be yelling and picking fights.
Right now, Juno was happy.
Even just the flickering, uncertain smiles he had shot Nureyev during their mission to retrieve the map had been enough to nearly bowl the thief over, and now here he was. Smiling a smile big enough to cut the moon in half.
“You know, one time Benzaiten won an award for having the Galaxy’s Best Smile. Can you believe that?!”
Nureyev had never known Juno’s brother, of course, and all he knew of him now came from those little glimpses that Juno gave him when he felt safe enough to voice them. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Benzaiten had deserved the accolade, though, if he had indeed had the same smile as Juno.
Juno definitely had the best smile in the entire galaxy. In all the galaxies, surely. And it made Nureyev feel emotions of an enormity that he had never before experienced. He wanted to live in that smile. He wanted to make a home in it. He wanted to lean forward, grab Juno by the face, and kiss him in front of everyone. He wanted to feel that smile against his lips.
It took every ounce of self restraint he had not to do so, and he gripped his glass, begging the last sober vestiges of himself to keep him from acting on any ridiculous notions.
He didn’t kiss Juno, thankfully.
He did do something else, though.
Crack.
“Oh. Dear,” he said. “These things aren’t very sturdy, are they?”
Before he could even realize what was happening, his glass had shattered to pieces in his hand, and his nice clothes that had surely cost the person he’d stolen them from several thousand creds were drenched in alcohol and littered with shards of glass.
“Nur- Ransom!” Juno exclaimed, immediately concerned, and in the moment all that Nureyev could think was how sad he was that the smile had vanished from the lady’s face. “What the hell happened?!”
“I believe I broke the glass.”
“Christ! Do you have the grip strength of a goddamn metal vice?” Juno’s voice sounded shocked and more than a little bit impressed. Nureyev couldn’t help feeling rather pleased about the latter. Then, suddenly, the ex-detective was back to looking concerned. “Ransom, you’re bleeding.”
He looked down at his hand. “Ah.”
“We- we need to get this cleaned up. Get you cleaned up,” Juno said. He swayed slightly as he made his way to Nureyev’s side to worriedly inspect his hand. If his drunkenness had been boosting his happiness before, it was now boosting his anxiety and fear.
“I’m all right,” Nureyev insisted. “Just a cut. Barely even hurts.” He didn’t want Juno to worry. He just wanted to see that smile again.
Vespa let out a long groan. “Ugggggggh. You two are the worst. I’ll go grab the nearest first aid kit. Ransom, Steel can get you your bandaid. I’m going to bed. You got this, Steel?”
Juno nodded. “I’ve patched myself up enough times to know how.”
“Great.”
She was back in a moment with the kit, handing it off to Juno before dragging Buddy off to bed.
“Good night, darlings,” Buddy said as she was pulled away. “Rita, I think you’d best leave them be, too.”
Rita frowned. “But what if they need my- Oooooooh. Okay.” She waved and winked comedically aggressively at Juno. “G’night, Mistah Steel and Mistah Ransom! Mistah Ransom, I hope you feel better soon!”
“Good night, Rita,” Nureyev said, feeling vaguely lightheaded. It wasn’t from the wound- that wasn’t nearly bad enough to warrant such a response. If he had to guess, it was from Juno being so close that he could feel his breath. From the soft, reverent way he was currently cleaning the cuts on Nureyev’s hands.
Juno looked up to watch Rita go. “What was that about?”
“No idea.”
Juno’s next words were softer and slightly slurred. “…Are you mad at me?”
Nureyev stared at him, completely lost. “What? Why would I be mad at you?”
“I was…I was laughing at you. Then you broke the glass. Did you break it because you were mad? Ma did that sometimes. I- I shouldn’t have laughed. Shouldn’t have done that. I’m so sorry-”
“Hush, Juno,” Nureyev said. “I’m not angry in the slightest. Really, it was rather funny. And I’m touched that you went that far just to rescue my note.”
“Then…why?”
“Why did I break the glass? I suppose I underestimated my own strength.”
“Why were you gripping it so hard, though?!”
What could he tell Juno? He studied his hand, not wanting to admit the truth. He couldn’t very well say, I found your smile so beautiful that if I hadn’t held onto something as hard as I could, I would have surely lunged forward and kissed you right there.
He looked up to find Juno staring at him, wide-eyed. “Really?”
“I…did not mean to say that out loud,” Nureyev said. “Apologies, Juno. I seem to be rather drunk.”
“You don’t say.” Juno snorted. A glimmer of a smile reappeared on his face, to Nureyev’s delight. “That’s really why, though? You wanted to kiss me?”
“Well, yes,” Nureyev said, flustered. “You have a very…nice smile.”
“Well, I’m not stopping you.”  
Juno suddenly looked embarrassed, almost shy. Hopeful, too.
Nureyev had lost the ability to think coherent thoughts.
“Oh. Okay,” he stammered.
He gently took Juno’s face in his freshly bandaged hand as he’d imagined doing not much earlier, and pulled him into a deep kiss. The lady’s lips were as soft and warm as always. They still tasted like drink, but also something so purely Juno that Nureyev was certain he could have gotten drunk on that taste alone.
He shifted, moving closer. Juno mirrored his actions, shuffling across the carpet to reach him, and then-
“Ow!”
Juno swore and broke away, to Nureyev’s dismay. It took him a moment to figure out what was wrong: there was still broken glass on the carpet.
“Are you all right?” Nureyev asked.
“Mm. Just pricked me. We should really get this cleaned up.” He hesitated. “On second thought, picking up glass while drunk might not be a good idea. Let’s just…mark it off so no one steps on it and then go to bed. We can deal with it in the morning.”
They did just that. Nureyev hated that even though Juno had drunk much more than him, he was the one leaning on Juno for balance as they walked back to his room. He couldn’t stop thinking about that smile. He wondered what it would take to make Juno smile like that while sober, and decided that whatever it was, he was going to figure it out.
When they reached the door to Nureyev’s room, Juno paused.
“Make sure you drink some water before you go to sleep,” he said. “And don’t use your right hand more than you have to, so it can heal.”
“I know, I know.”
There was an awkward but companionable silence for a moment. Nureyev wanted more than anything to invite Juno into his room to stay the night, but he knew he shouldn’t. They weren’t there yet, and besides, that wasn’t a step that he wanted to take while under the influence.
“I can’t believe you really broke a glass because of me,” Juno said finally, smirking.
“Oh, shush. It’s your own fault. If you hadn’t…looked like that, it wouldn’t have happened.”
“Well, I’m so sorry. In the future I’ll refrain from ‘looking like that’.”
“Please don’t,” Nureyev said immediately.
“…Okay. Then I won’t.”
Nureyev moved to open his door, then hesitated, chewing his lip. “Juno…there’s something I need to ask you.”
Juno immediately knit his brow, his shoulders tensing. “What is it?”
“About the time you had sex in a public place-”
The ex-detective groaned loudly and gave him a good-natured shove. “I don’t want to talk about it!”
“Could you at least tell me about the foursome, then?”
“No! God, I am never playing Never Have I Ever with you guys again. Good night, Nureyev.”
Nureyev grinned. “Good night, my dear.”
92 notes · View notes
joonclouds · 4 years ago
Text
The Price Of A Wish | 3
 The third time you meet Jung Hoseok, you realise the last ten years has done nothing to the way you were drawn to him, with a force as sure and inescapable as gravity.
CHAPTER INDEX
Tumblr media
Hoseok x Reader
Genre: Idol!Hoseok, Chaebol!Reader, OT7 bangtan show up too, Slow Burn, Unrequited feelings, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Fluff, (we might include some other things later let’s see)
_________________
You meet Hoseok for the first time when you’re seventeen. It's in the early days of March - you remember because it's the time where Spring isn't quite here yet, so the evenings are still chilly. Getting to wear your favourite sweaters a few weeks longer is something that you still get a small thrill out of. You're a lot younger, a lot less jaded than you are now.
Leaning against the wall a ways off from the main crowd, you watch the guests in disinterest. It was laughable for a party of forty, at most, to rent such a colossal space. Surely even if it was a selection showcase, it was excessive.
Your family’s attendance to an event meant no expense was spared. The dress code is smart casual but a grand hall has been rented, with towering ceilings and a sprawling expanse of space. There was a live string quartet and champagne and little degustation canapes. Everyone talked in hushed voices, as if afraid to disturb the air around them. And what were they feeding with these canapes? Mice? You can’t even have real alcohol, just this stupid fizzy grape juice in a fancy glass. You think about the amazing grilled cheese that Madam Han, your housekeeper, makes and you groan internally, wishing to be anywhere but here. You’re sure your face says just as much.
“Yup, me too.” Turning in surprise, you find someone next to you.
His height is the first thing you notice. A good head taller than you are, and all black looks good on him, a silk shirt hanging loose and ripped jeans tucked into boots. He looks familiar, but you can’t put your finger on it yet, so you shelve that thought for later because well. There were more important issues at hand.
As a general rule, you thought all that "love at first sight' type thing was bullshit. You didn't buy into that sort of malarkey, and even if you did, it’s not something you got to have. But what was a girl to do in the face of .. well, a handsome face? Despite the remnants of stubborn pre-teen chub around his cheeks and a smattering of acne on his chin - things you're sure he'd grow out of in time - he's just your type of trouble.
Maybe you didn't know that yet, but all you do know is that when he turns slightly to give you a half smile, you freeze and your heart jumps like it's about to launch itself out of your body.
“Well. Someone's having fun.” He clarifies, fiddling with the stem of his champagne flute. You quickly look away, but not before noting his similarly bored demeanor.
"As much fun as you are, clearly."
“Yes, this is a riveting time.” He deadpans back, and the snicker he garners out of you breaks the ice like sugar glass. The both of you return to surveying the small crowd, but make no move to leave, enjoying the feeling of sharing in a certain kind of disjointed camaraderie. What is it they always say about shared trauma?
“You’re old enough to drink?” You tilt your glass in the direction of his.
“I’ve been old enough since three years ago. But legally, no. This isn’t alcohol.”
You sigh, but then a thought pops into your head. “Wanna sneak into the kitchen with me? The servers often leave the open bottles unattended.”
“Not your first rodeo, huh.”
“And certainly not my last. I can’t wait to be legal so these things become more tolerable.” You take another sip of your non-alcohol.
After a moment you ask again - “So? Kitchen?”
“You have no idea how much I wish I could, but this night is a sober one. Nerves and alcohol don't go well together for me.”
“Aaaaaaand he turns out to be even less fun than this party.”
This earns you a chuckle from him. It’s warm and inviting, a little buzz of electricity in your veins. Feels like if you’d been drinking actual champagne that evening. He nudges your shoulder playfully with his own when you cross your arms and angle your body slightly away in a small show of sulking.
“I have no choice, cowboy. I’m the showhorse. Gotta do the parade if I want my scholarship."
“Ah, Jung Hoseok.”
The puzzle pieces fall into place and you give him another once over out of the corner of your eye, this time with more recognition than before. Now you knew why he looked familiar - the identities of the artistes were all kept secret until after the selection showcase, but since you were your father's daughter, you'd seen the lineup beforehand.
"Yup, that's me." Hoseok downs the rest of his drink, grimacing. "And this entire thing is a show by a pretentious businessman who's already decided who's going to be selected."
"Looks like it's not your first rodeo either, you know how this works."
"Boy, do I."
"So why stay sober for it anyway?"
"I like dancing."
Hoseok's answer makes you go quiet. Whatever sarcastic banter you had lined up was halted in the face of such a simple, honest admission.
After a moment, he adds - " and I have a feeling it might reflect badly if I turned up tipsy to my first performance in front of the panel of directors.”
You shrug. "You know what they say about brooding artists and alcohol."
Suddenly, a thought comes to him. “Wait. You know me?”
He turns to you, and you can see him trying to figure out who you are, why you know him but he doesn’t know you.
“Of course I know you.” You state a matter-of-factly. “Jung Hoseok, the parading showhorse.”
“And you’re…. Mirae? The….cellist?” He takes a wild guess at one of the other performers in the showcase lineup that night.
“Nope.” You reply, popping your lips in amusement when you realise he has absolutely no clue who you are.
"You're not competition, are you?"
"Wrong again."
Hoseok squints in confusion and turns fully to face you, taking you more seriously now. “So who are you?”
Leaning in closer to him you tilt your glass in the direction of where the biggest group of people congregated in the middle of the room, deciding to at least have a little bit of fun tonight if you couldn't get your hands on the drinks. Albeit at the expense of someone else’s embarrassment, but it’s not like you two were close anyway. Consider it a trade off of sorts.
“See that man in the gray suit?”
“The CEO of Aurarts?” He frowns slightly. “Why?”
“He's the one who gets to decide if you get your scholarship or not, right?”
“Yes.” He drags the syllable out hesitantly. “Where is this going?”
“Well. In the direction of him being my very pretentious father. I'm sure you'll know my name soon enough.”
The colour drains from Hoseok’s face.
“Fuck-“ He begins, but quickly catches himself and bites his lips together when he decides that swearing in front of the daughter of the business magnate he just badmouthed, and who is coincidentally also funding his scholarship, isn’t the best first impression.
“Sorry. I. Uh.” He rubs the back of his neck with one hand. Gone is his easy charm - he’s now visibly perplexed, turning red and refusing to make eye contact. It makes you giggle, a bright pealing sound that seems to cut like a warm knife into butter. As it happens, the emcee’s voice crackles to life over the speakers, cutting your laughter short and inviting guests to take their seats as the performance is about to begin.
"There's your cue, and mine."
You sigh, quite content with your fun for the evening; Hoseok is pretty cute when he’s flustered. He's opened and shut his mouth three times and still trying to find a way to dig himself out of the hole he's in, so you decide to put the poor boy out of his misery and leave first. Pushing off from the wall, you offer him a small wave and mouth a ‘good luck’ over your shoulder. He manages a tiny wave back.
Between accompanying your father amongst the guests and making small talk with them after the performances are over, don’t get a chance to talk to Hoseok anymore for the rest of the evening. Sometimes you catch a glimpse of a silky black shirt and a charming smile, but not long enough of a look to know if he was looking back.
But you do get to watch his performance - it’s the last one of the night, and you don't know if it's intentional, but they’ve saved the best for last.
Hoseok walks onto the makeshift dancefloor, barefoot, and one more button on his shirt undone. Perhaps you didn’t notice it before, but there is a power with which he holds himself in his beginning pose, facing away from the audience, stance wide and hands crossed in fists behind his back. His head is turned, just enough for you to see his side profile, and you know he sees you sitting in the front row. You feel a shiver of excitement at the base of your spine. It pulses in rhythm to the opening beats of the dance track.
When he starts, you understand why he’s in tonight's lineup. Each movement of Hoseok’s body is fluid but perfectly controlled, matching the heavy bass tempo on the dot. Never early, never late. The music slowly starts to pick up, and his eyes turn dark, expression changing with every turn of the music. Joy, fear, passion and desperation tell the story of escape from old demons and rebirth into a new self. As everything reaches a crescendo, it’s like his presence expands into the cavernous hall that seemed to swallow every one of it’s tiny guests earlier, filling the space until you felt like the walls might burst.
One fist clenched and shaking in the air, Hoseok ends his performance kneeling atop a raised dais in the middle of the stage. The air is so silent and heavy with awe you can hear his laboured breaths. His smile is so bright and victorious, you think you might be dreaming when it is literally blinding you in the shine of spotlights. It's then you realise he's actually got braces on. Your heart gives you a quiet, endearing sigh, and you agree with her.
Applause erupts, a standing ovation is given. It takes you a little longer to collect yourself, but you stand with the crowd too, and clap until your palms heat and sting.
He’s not dancing to the music, you think. He is the music.
_________________
PREV | NEXT
A/N: And with that we’re all caught up with the chapters I’ve also posted on A03! You can check me out there if you prefer A03 hehe. Will be releasing future chapters at the same time from now on. Hope everyone is having a  ✨great day✨ xoxo
13 notes · View notes
peterthepark · 5 years ago
Text
crush culture - [one]
adventures in beer pong
pairing: steve harrington x reader (university & modern au)
summary: Beer pong, inappropriate pictures on mugs, insta-stalking, and a phone number that you couldn’t quite bring yourself to text is the summary of your night.
warnings: alcohol, partying, strong language
series masterlist
Tumblr media
Go to the party, Kate said. It’ll be fun, she said.
You wince as you step on the back of someone’s shoe, apologizing sincerely when they send you a dirty look. You trail behind Robin, who follows Kate into the living room. The small loft of an apartment was too packed with people, and you could already feel that impending need to get out appear in your chest. You lock eyes with a few people from your classes, waving to them weakly as you expertly dodge past other party goers. The glitter around your eyes stings against your skin as you blink it away, grumbling at the sticky texture against your eyelids.
You see Levi from across the couch, busy talking to a couple players from the tennis team. Him being the boyfriend of Kate, you all were able to go out to a lot more parties - most of them being off campus. He raises his bottle of Smirnoff at you, winking at Kate when she catches his eye.
You’re bobbing your head along to the music before you move to stand on the terrace, leaning against the metal railing with your phone in hand. Your body buzzes with alcohol, having gotten pre-party drinks with the girls as you got ready.
Feeling a tap on your shoulder, you look up, met with an already tipsy Kate. “Y/N! Did you get my text?” She asks, plopping down onto the plastic chair beside you. You shake your head, furrowing your eyebrows at why she would even be texting you when you were in the same, damn room. “Remember that guy who I wanted to hook you up with? Yeah, I got his number from Jonathan!”
“Jonathan? Jonathan’s here?” You scoff, knowing damn well that he did not go to parties, none like these anyways.
“Yeah! He’s his roommate. Cool guy. I think he deli-“ She looks back inside the apartment, hearing her other friends shout at her. “I gotta go, bitch. Okay, but anyways, look at the text! Hit him up!”
You purse your lips, tapping through your phone. Kate’s contact is the first to appear in your messages, and reluctantly, you take a look at what she had sent. Only a phone number and a kissing emoji appears in the grey bubble of text. She could have given you a serial killer’s contact, for God’s sake. Where was his name? His details? Hell, you would’ve preferred Tinder over your friend’s matchmaking shit. Deciding that it would be best to ask when she became sober, you tuck your phone away in your bag, before heading back into the party.
That’s when you clumsily run into someone, nearly falling into your ass. Thankfully, the guy grabs onto your arm before you can react, and you’re glad that you hadn’t flashed the whole party if you had gone down.
“Y/N!”
“Jonathan? Oh, my gosh, hey!” You pull him into a friendly hug, gushing over how long you haven’t seen one another. “What are you doing here? I thought you hated this type of shit.”
“Well, this is actually my place, so... no choice, but to be here. My roommate is hosting the party, and honestly, I have not seen him one bit.” He trails off, glancing around the living room with narrowed eyes. “Do you want a drink?” He nods to your empty hand. “They’re all in the kitchen. It’s just down the hallway.”
“Thanks. Good luck finding your roommate.” You chuckle before excusing yourself to go get a cup of vodka.
By process of elimination, you were able to successfully find the kitchen, which happened to be down the other hallway, not the one that led to the closet (where you happened to walk into Robin making out with someone). Surprisingly, the kitchen was empty, and you felt more at ease with the peace. But it wasn’t till that you couldn’t find a plastic cup or a glass to fill with alcohol that your anxiety had skyrocketed.
Where the hell are the fucking red cups when you need them?
You didn’t want to snoop around, so awkwardly, you unscrewed the cap of Absolut, choosing to do a risky waterfall instead.
Your back was to the doorway, and when a voice had spoken behind you, vodka had been spilled everywhere.
“What are you doing?”
Familiar. Ah, you knew who it was.
Turning around with a look of embarrassment, you lock eyes with the brunette boy, smiling forcibly when he recognizes your face.
Well, you look different.
His hair is messier than usual, a bit more unkempt, but fitting for this type of party. His shirt is tight around his toned arms and your bandaid peeks out from his ripped jeans - oh, you didn’t know he wore glasses.
This is a total three-sixty from ‘Steve the Newspaper Boy.’ You can’t lie to yourself and say that he didn’t look good.
Because he really did look good.
“Steve!” Cough. “Hello, uh, Steve.” Cough. “Hi.”
“Hi, Y/N. Uh, what exactly are you doing in the kitchen?” He laughs awkwardly.
“Looking for cups?” You shrug with uncertainty, stepping away from the counter as Steve reaches into the cabinet above. He groans when he sticks his entire arm into the top shelf, feeling around for - there it is.
“Here.” He hands you a coffee mug instead, explaining that all the red solo cups had been finished. “That still doesn’t answer my question.”
“The cups?”
“Actually, let me rephrase that. What are you doing at my place?”
Oh.
Oh!
He was Jonathan’s roommate. That made sense.
But that also meant that Kate had given you Steve’s number and that he was the guy she was trying to set you up with.
You had Steve Harrington’s number.
But he didn’t know that.
“I came for the party. Levi invited me and a few friends. Sorry if he didn’t tell you or anything.” You answer, taking a drink.
Your eyes bulge out of your head in shock when you finally see the picture that was printed onto the mug, noticing that it seemed to be a censored photo of Steve who was... streaking in the street?
“Okay, now this is a conversation starter.” You turn the mug around to show him. He immediately turns red and erratically takes it from your hands, dumping out all of its contents and replacing it with a new - more appropriate - cup to drink from.
“Crap, that’s fucking embarrassing. I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to grab that mug. Out of all of them, I really had to - wow, I look like an asshole.”
“We really have to stop starting our conversations with apologizing.” You chuckle heartily, feeling your cheeks heat up at how Steve lets out a small laugh in response. “I didn’t know you were Jonathan’s roommate.”
“Yeah, we’ve been good friends for like years. He was able to get into that crazy ‘smart-kid’ university that’s literally an hour away. Thankfully, we aren’t too far from one another, so figured that sharing a place wouldn’t be a bad idea.”
He also gave me your number.
You should probably bring that up now.
Maybe not.
“How nice.” You tap your nails against the marble counter, redirecting your gaze to the questionable magnets on his fridge.
“So, having fun? I’m a terrible host, clearly, but everyone seems to have a good time.” He tries to casually lean against the doorframe, but he isn’t quite great at acting natural. His head rests against his hand, while his elbow stays propped onto the wall.
I have your number. And you’re cute. But more importantly, I have your number.
“No, this is great, Steve. Thanks.”
Little bitch.
“I was wond-“
“Steve!” Levi pokes his head into the doorway, “You’ve finally met Y/N, huh? Anyways, we’re playing a game by the couch. Come, come!” He drags Steve behind him, who looks at you pleadingly to join him. You laugh, pouring yourself another drink before you catch up with them.
The two couches are basically taken up with people; the only seats available are in the tight corner of the loveseat, where you find yourself wedged beside Steve. His thigh is pressed up against yours, and your shoulders touch as you both lean forward in anticipation.
“Beer pong! Beer pong!”
Loud chants ring throughout the room, and suddenly, everyone is crowding around the foldable table surrounded by the couches and loveseat. Levi goes to explain instructions, directing everyone to go find a partner. You immediately get up to find Robin, who was insanely skilled at beer pong. However, it appears that she’s found another partner, slinging an arm around her thin waist. You shake your head, completely lost with who to team up with.
Out of choices, you move to lean against the wall closest to the TV, watching closely as the game began. When one team made a ball into the cup, the opposing team had to drink - it was all pretty self explanatory, and you felt more than envious to join.
“Y/N, come on!” Kate yells at you from the line of players, standing beside Levi. ”You’ve gotta play!” You shrug defeatedly, shuffling into the cramped group of people.
The universe is funny.
But not funny enough to be a comedian.
Because suddenly you’re standing next to Steve, who also happens to be without a partner.
Hands in his pockets, he turns to you, “You good at beer pong, Y/N?”
“I’m a pro.” His lips tug into a smirk at your comment, then he bumps your fist with his as you linger by the edge of the table.
“But are we trying to get drunk tonight?” He passes you the ping-pong ball, locking eyes with you. You nod in reply as if the answer was obvious, and he chuckles. “Then you better fucking miss.”
Drink.
After drink.
After drink.
You and Steve occasionally would try to actually make a shot in, getting it in almost every time. But for most of the game, the both of you would miss intentionally, giving the other team a chance to win.
“Cheers!” You giggle drunkenly, tapping the rim of the cup against Steve’s. He doesn’t break eye contact with you as you down the whole drink, wincing at the bitter aftertaste in your throat.
After a few more matches, you start to feel really sick. Steve thinks it’s best to end the game, and you agree - deciding to step aside to go find Robin and Kate.
Fortunately, you were able to see them by the bathroom, next to the outlets where they could charge their phones. Kate has her head in Levi’s lap, her nose buried in her phone while Robin stares up at the ceiling with a massive headache.
“There you are,” She breathes out, patting the empty spot in between her and Levi on the hardwood floor. You sit, and the back of your shirt rides up as you slide down the to the ground.
As the party furthers into the night, groups of two or four people begin to leave periodically. You and Steve had gone your separate ways after beer pong, but you assumed that he crashed in his room from the amount of drinks he had, seeing he was nowhere to be seen again. Being the only half-sober member of the apartment, Jonathan found himself stuck with the task of locking up, and so you politely volunteered to help him while your friends ordered an Uber.
You made small talk, asking each other about your personal lives as if there was actually something interesting happening other than your studies. He had brought up his girlfriend Nancy, which led you to question the fact that he was living with Steve.
“But isn’t that awkward? Like your girlfriend’s ex being in the same household as you?” You scoff, holding out a trash bag for Jonathan. He takes it, dumping an empty box of pizza inside.
He shrugs, “I don’t know. At first, it was... it was weird? But we all came from the same hometown and - and we both had financial problems, so we just got over any issues. Plus, high school was - jesus - a couple years ago? Steve doesn’t feel anything for Nancy.”
“Yeah?”
“Kate gave you the number, right?” He raises his eyebrows at you, smirking under the dull light of the kitchen.
“Yeah. I-I probably won’t use it or anything. I barely... we don’t really know each other on that - that level yet.”
“Yet? Oh, so you’re planning on getting to know him?” He chuckles teasingly, continuing before you can interrupt. “So tell me, once you get to know him, then you’ll text him?”
“Shut up, Jonathan. It’s just a stupid crush. I’ll get over it.”
You really just admitted that.
Thankfully, Jonathan doesn’t mention it.
“And what if you don’t?”
Motherfu... but he really knew how to twist your words, huh?
You roll your eyes at him, only because you don’t have anything smart to say in reply.
Maybe you would text him. Maybe you won’t. So what? But little did you know, Steve lays in his room, a hot towel on his forehead as he stares blankly at his phone.
He had your number, too.
And he also didn’t know what to do with it. Would texting you be weird? What is he even supposed to start with?
Hey, Y/N. It’s me. Steve Harrington. I’m texting you because, wow, I have your number. Surprise!
No. That’s just plain fucking stupid.
Grumbling under his breath, Steve pulls up his instagram, finding your name at the top of his search bar. Quietly, he scrolls through your feed, clicking through pictures that sparked any interest - well, all of them sparked interest. He’s about to leave your account until he sees a picture of you and some guy. An ex? A boyfriend? He zooms in, trying to get a good look at who you were with.
Slippery hands suck.
Because Steve accidentally double-taps on your photo. A red heart appears, almost as if it were mocking him for liking a two-year old post.
God, he really hated himself right now.
“No, no. No. You’ve gotta be kidding me.” He quickly unlikes it, slamming his phone back onto the nightstand. He gets up from the bed, heading to open his door so that he could help Jonathan.
At that exact moment, the knob to his room turns, and he bumps harshly into you.
“Oh, sorry. Sorry.” He apologizes, “Damn, we have to stop meeting like this.”
Why would you say that? Dingus!
He recovers quickly, keeping his hand rested against the paneled door as you step to the side to talk to him.
“I was just gonna say goodbye. Uh, hopefully I didn’t disturb you or anything.” He smiles. “Okay, well... bye, Steve. Tonight was really, super duper fun.” You touch his arm lightly with a warm grin. There’s a lingering stare between the two of you, until you look away and walk down the hallway towards the living room. He blushes, rubbing the spot that you had touched.
“Bye, Y/N.” Sorry for almost murdering you with the door, by the way. “I-I had fun, too, you know...” His voice lowers to a hushed whisper when he hears you leave. “... with you.”
You let out a sigh of pleasure when your head finally hits the soft cotton of your pillow. Partying was obviously fun, but also tiring in the end. You could already foretell the throbbing headache that you’d have in the morning, so you set aside a pain relief pill and glass of water by your bedside table. You roll onto your side to grab your phone, the cool-toned screen illuminating your face in the darkness of your bedroom.
You squint, seeing a notification which informed you that someone had liked a post of yours. Realizing you haven’t posted in quite a while, you click to see the details.
steveharrington98 liked your post
You refresh the screen with surprised and nervous eyes, only for the notification to disappear right in front of you.
Was he insta-stalking you? You then noticed that he had liked the picture of you and an old friend, Nate. And you couldn’t help but wonder, out of all pictures, why that one? Self conscious, you double-check your feed for embarrassing pictures, deleting any that looked unflattering or plain stupid.
You yelp when the phone falls from your grasp, landing roughly on the bridge of your nose. You swear angrily, before you put the device away from the night.
Maybe the universe truly was a comedian.
A fucking awful one, at least.
•••
TAGLIST: @aphrodites-perfume @itsametaphorbriansblog @delicrieux @ultrunning @l0ve-0f-my-life @novaddictx
344 notes · View notes
lisatelramor · 5 years ago
Text
A Sip of Liquid Courage (No Way to Take it Back)
AN: In December I took a trope list and a random number generator and tried to make myself some short fic prompts. This is the result of one of them ^_^;;; Not quite my usual sort of fic setup, but it works!
***
Kudo Shinichi was not drunk. In fact, he was entirely sober. The funny thing about having a group of people try to kill you that went by alcohol names, it kind of put you off alcohol for life. Although watching Mouri Kogoro make a fool of himself over the years had kind of helped that aversion along. So no alcohol to numb him to the ridiculous behaviors of people around him at events.
Honestly he didn’t mind too much. It’s kind of fun to know what people are like under the influence if only for hypothetical blackmail information. But when he agreed to come with Hakuba to a forensics conference, he wasn’t really expecting them to get invited out for drinks, let alone at a club. Shinichi was a bit out of place.
Hakuba knew one of the younger officers that invited them. And Hakuba definitely wasn’t as uptight or shy with a drink or two in him.
At the moment, Hakuba was flushed-faced and grinning at something his friend was saying. The relaxed smile was a nice look on him. He actually looked his age.
The song playing changed and the person Hakuba was talking to let out a whoop and grabbed someone from the group to drag toward the dance floor. Left alone, Hakuba’s eyes skipped around the table and landed on Shinichi. His wide grin became a little less wide, but no less warm as he scooted closer.
“Didn’t know this was your kind of thing,” Shinichi said when Saguru was close enough that he’d be able to hear.
“It’s not really,” Saguru said, “but I have enough friends who like this sort of thing that I’ve grown used to it.”
For a man that was more than a bit tipsy, he was still very articulate. But not perfectly put together anymore—Hakuba had run a hand through his hair at one point and his shirt was a bit rumpled from brushing up against bodies to reach the bar. Shinichi offered him a smile. “So you don’t have a secret love for dirty dancing?”
Hakuba snorted. “Hardly. Although dancing in general is nice. Do you dance?”
“Not like that,” Shinichi said with a nod to the grinding going on at the edge of the dance floor.
“How about that?” Hakuba said, with a nod for the wilder waving of arms and shimmying bodies moving in and out of each other’s space.
“Never tried.”
“Care to try?” There was something flirtatious in the way Hakuba held out his hand and tilted his head to the side, something the edge of challenging too. Shinichi was probably reading too much into it. Hakuba was just drunk and enthusiastic.
The moving bodies on the dance floor weren’t very appealing, but the genuine invitation was, so Shinichi put his hand in Hakuba’s. “Sure. Why not?”
“Lovely.”
Hakuba swept Shinichi out of their booth and to the loud crush of the dance floor before Shinichi could register how warm Hakuba’s hand was. Hakuba danced like someone with formal lessons who’d decided to throw them out the window—good posture and sense of rhythm, careful awareness of a partner, but moving however felt right instead of to any pre-set choreography. Shinichi moved with him, a laugh startled out of him as Hakuba gave them a spin, a hand still holding Shinichi’s own.
Shinichi had no idea what the hell he was doing. He almost elbowed half a dozen people and stepped on Hakuba’s foot at least once. He should have felt too sober and self-conscious to do this, but it was actually kind of fun. The room had an energy to it. The music might be too loud and the people too close, but they moved like one organism with the beat of the music and it was its own kind of exhilarating to be caught in the middle of it. Plus it was kind of hard to be too self-conscious as Hakuba had completely lost any of that a while back. When everyone else was drunk, the sober party was the least ridiculous by default.
The song changed, and the beat surged faster. Shinichi found himself pressed closer to Hakuba in an effort to not get too close to strangers, and Hakuba didn’t seem to mind.
He had a hand on Shinichi’s hip, probably helping him balance, and when dancers crushed them closer still, Shinichi realized that Hakuba was a lot closer than he’d thought. He had a happy grin on his face and Shinichi suddenly wasn’t sure what he was feeling.
He tugged Hakuba’s shoulder, nodding off the dance floor.
Hakuba went willingly enough, not taking hands from Shinichi as they somehow ended up against a wall in the far end of the room, not near their table at all.
“A bit too many people,” Shinichi said, having to speak loud to be heard.
Hakuba nodded. “This is better. I’m glad you’re here.”
“Er. Yeah.” Shinichi realized Hakuba still had a hand on his hip. Usually Hakuba didn’t touch anyone more than needed.
“I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about going to the conference with me.” Hakuba tilted his head to the side and his body shifted a bit with it. Shinichi shot a hand out but it seemed that Hakuba wasn’t actually tipping over, just shifting on his feet. Shinichi kept a hand on his arm anyway just in case. “Kudo-san.” Hakuba looked him in the eyes suddenly serious.
“Uh, yes?”
“I’m glad to have you as a friend.”
“You too.” Shinichi hadn’t realized that Hakuba considered him a friend.  They spoke when they crossed paths on cases or Kid heists, but this was the first time they’d ever done anything together deliberately.
“And I’m glad you’re here now.” Hakuba’s free hand landed on Shinichi’s shoulder.
“…Yeah.” This was getting a bit too…intense. And Hakuba leaned in closer. Shinichi could smell the alcohol on his breath. “Uh, Hakuba-san maybe you should—”
“I’m really glad,” Hakuba said like he hadn’t heard Shinichi start speaking at all. Shinichi lifted a hand to Hakuba’s shoulders to get a bit of distance, but the next moment Hakuba’s face was right in his and lips pressed against his, messy and a bit off center.
Any words he might have found died in his throat. What the hell.
“Mm.” Hakuba hummed against his lips. Tilted his head to try again.
Shinichi unfroze. “Wait wait wait wait.” He pushed Hakuba back and Hakuba let him, blinking at him in confusion. “Hakuba-san,” Shinichi said firmly. “You’re drunk.”
Hakuba blinked again. “A little bit, yes,” he said reasonably.
It shouldn’t have been endearing, but it was and Shinichi couldn’t even feel too bad about the situation. He patted Hakuba on the shoulder, hoping it came across as friendly but not so friendly that Hakuba was going to try and kiss him again. They kind of needed to have a sober conversation about this, which wasn’t going to happen tonight. “I think that it’s time to call it an evening.”
“Oh?” Hakuba looked hopeful.
Shinichi snorted despite himself. “Not that kind of evening.” He tugged on Saguru’s hand, stepping away. “Come on. Let’s get you back to the hotel and sobered up.”
“I don’t think I’d be able to be this forward sober,” Hakuba said, following along happily enough. He was a little unsteady, but not so bad that Shinichi thought he’d have to dive closer to keep him from falling flat on his face.
“And that’s exactly why we’re going to go sober you up.”
Hakuba was silent, turning that over in his mind with a slight frown on his face as Shinichi said goodbye to Hakuba’s friends. They were halfway into the walk to the hotel when Hakuba, probably starting to sober up said, “I made a grave mistake didn’t I?”
Shinichi glanced back to find Hakuba looking at Shinichi’s hand around his wrist, still guiding him on the off chance Hakuba decided to try doing something spontaneous and potentially dangerous the way drunk people could do. The frown had become full-fledged and troubled. It was so far away from the open grin earlier that Shinichi felt a pang of guilt. Looked like he’d kind of ruined Hakuba’s evening even if he didn’t mean to.
“I wouldn’t say a mistake,” Shinichi said carefully. “You’re just more impulsive right now.”
“I did make a mistake then,” Hakuba said with heavy certainty. “Damn.”
“Hakuba, it’s fine.”
Hakuba said nothing, just followed Shinichi back to the hotel room they’d booked for the conference and accepted the glass of water Shinichi got him from the bathroom tap.
“Want to talk about it?” Shinichi asked.
“I think I’m going to be very embarrassed in the morning,” Hakuba said in a detached way that said he wasn’t properly processing emotions now. A pause, then “Kuroba is going to mock me mercilessly for having a type.”
“Kuroba?”
“A…classmate? Friend? Enemy?” Hakuba squinted at the ceiling. “Past crush? Is it really past though…? It’s a bit like those relationship lists with a check-box for ‘it’s complicated’ or ‘all of the above’.”
“Right.” There was a lot Shinichi didn’t know about Hakuba, and who Kuroba was only comprised a small part of that. “Feeling a bit more sober?”
“Unfortunately. I always have hated the crash.” He drank half the glass of water in one go and wrinkled his nose at it. “It’s so nice not to overthink everything for a while.”
Well, Shinichi could empathize with that. “Finish the water and get some sleep, Hakuba-san and we can talk in the morning.”
“Must we?” Hakuba said with a sigh, then, “I don’t suppose I could get one more kiss for the night?”
“Ask me in the morning,” Shinichi said, finding himself meaning it. He didn’t really look to men, but really, outside of Ran he didn’t find himself attracted to people in general. If he let himself look at Hakuba that way, well, he wasn’t un-interesting.
Hakuba nodded and downed the rest of the water. “Right. Apologies in advance if I try to run in the morning.”
“You’re not going to now?”
“Oh, no. I’m much too tired and not nearly mortified enough yet.” Hakuba collapsed face first onto one of the two twin beds, not even bothering to take any clothing off or get under the covers. “Goodnight.”
Shinichi snorted when he started snoring softly a few moments later. He wasn’t really sure what to do with the situation, but he honestly did find Hakuba a friend, so this wasn’t something they couldn’t work out. Shinichi took off Hakuba’s shoes without him even twitching before going through his nightly routine and climbing into his own bed. It was pretty easy to fall asleep, all things considered.
o*O*o
Shinichi woke up to muffled swearing and Hakuba clutching a stubbed toe with his eyes squinted in the light-sensitive way people had when they were hung-over. “Are you running?” Shinichi asked sleepily.
Hakuba froze. “Kudo-san.”
Shinichi sat up and stretched. Hakuba’s eyes followed the motion like he couldn’t help it. He also looked like he was terrified what was going to come out of Shinichi’s mouth next. Well, that wouldn’t do. “I don’t suppose this hotel room has a coffee maker.”
“Er. I hadn’t looked for one.”
“Hmm. Well I need caffeine. If you’re not trying to run away, we can get breakfast and talk.”
Hakuba relaxed in degrees, lowering his foot back to the floor. “…I’d like that.”
“Great. I cleaned up last night, so the bathroom is all yours.”
“…Thank you.”
Hakuba all but ran, taking clean clothing with him.
There was a restaurant attached to the hotel, so that could be their next destination. Shinichi still didn’t feel uncomfortable with what happened last night. He’d kind of thought he would, but if anything he was a bit curious how far the faint interest he’d felt during that kiss went. And, well… He sighed internally. He wasn’t in a relationship right now considering things with Ran had been more than a bit tense after he came back from being Conan. No time like the present to explore the full spectrum of his sexuality.
o*O*o
Hakuba was quiet until halfway through his first cup of tea. Then he just looked nervous. Shinichi sipped coffee—and this was good coffee—and waited patiently for Hakuba to figure out what he wanted to say.
“So,” Hakuba said finally, once the pinched look of a hangover headache was starting to smooth away. “Apologies for last night. It appears that I let myself go a bit too much and ended up inconveniencing you. And. Taking liberties with your person.” Hakuba blushed, not looking quite in Shinichi’s direction. “I assure you that such a slip of propriety won’t happen again, and I hope it hasn’t caused you any reason to regret our friendship.”
Hakuba, Shinichi decided, was kind of cute when he was shy. Not as much as when he was smiling unreservedly, but it made him look vulnerable and approachable a lot more than his usual confidence did. Not that he necessarily found confidence unattractive. “You didn’t ruin anything,” Shinichi said. “And I’m not mad. I was a bit surprised, but nothing you did upset me.”
Hakuba’s eyes flicked up and away. “That isn’t how most people respond,” he said a bit ruefully. “I admit that I’d hoped you would be interested in return, and that I invited you to go to the conference for less than pure reasons, but I honestly only intended to find out whether or not you’d even consider being interested in men last night. It’s just that I was nervous and the last time I attempted to determine this sort of thing it wasn’t…”
Shinichi blinked. “Honestly you seemed really confident last night.”
“I wasn’t thinking,” Hakuba said. “I can get… tripped up by over analyzing and second guessing and a few drinks tends to turn that part of my mind off. Unfortunately, a few too many drinks and I end up overconfident and impulsive and prone to giving into whatever emotional whims I happen to feel.”
“So it was a whim?”
Hakuba still couldn’t look at him. “…Not entirely.”
“Hmm.” So in other words, Hakuba definitely thought of kissing him before that night, he just didn’t have the usual inhibitions not to. Shinichi sipped at his coffee. “Well, last night you were drunk enough that I definitely wasn’t going to respond. Just saying, a drink is one thing, but that much alcohol is a different story. Now that you’re sober…” Shinichi shrugged. “I’m honestly not sure how I feel, but you aren’t unattractive and I enjoy your company. I’d be up for trying that kiss again.”
Hakuba stopped trying to avoid looking at him and stared. “I… truly?”
Shinichi shrugged again. “In all honesty, I hadn’t kissed a man before last night or even thought of it, but it could have been a nice kiss under different circumstances, so…”
“Oh.” Hakuba blushed again, faint pink along his cheeks. “Oh.” The shy look vanished as a much more confident smile crossed his face. “Well, then I’d like that. I. Would you be interested in a date? A proper one, not just me inviting you to things and failing to reveal my motivations.”
“I’d like that.” Shinichi smiled back.
The rest of breakfast went smoothly, conversation switching over to their hobbies instead of the usual routes of crime and cases, last night’s dancing opening a new topic to know each other better. And at the end of it, once they were back in their hotel room gathering up their things to leave, Hakuba drew Shinichi into another kiss. A much more hesitant and shy kiss, but no worse than the first one.
And Shinichi kissed back.
6 notes · View notes
letsperaltiago · 6 years ago
Text
love is to know that you are on my side (Jake x Amy)
I Love You-prompt request #85: It doesn’t bother me.
Geeez, it’s been a hundred years since I wrote a oneshot for this I love you-prompt list, but here is another one! Get ready for some sweet pining and pre-dating Peraltiago! 
Word count: 2.4k
The moon was bright, reigning over the pitch-black February sky that hovered over the beach house. After Jake talked it out with their captain, thus resolving the tension between the detectives and their boss, the weekend fun had continued with lots of “Real Ray or Fake Ray”, jokes, alcohol and laughs. Hours flew by without anyone noticing, and by the time anyone actually bothered to look at the clock again, it was 2 AM. Of course Holt was the first to do so.
“Oh my,” the man looked at his wrist watch, holding an almost empty beer bottle in his other hand. Tonight he’d had more than just his usual one beer, but didn’t mind even though his head felt slightly heavy. The squad had made him feel included and he’d definitely remember this weekend for a long time. “It is already 2 AM. I better head to bed, or I will miss out on my recommended 7 hours of sleep.”
Jake, who was sitting on the couch between Gina and a (still) passed out Amy with the woman’s legs stretched across his lap, had to frown at this. He was definitely too tipsy to deny that he really liked and enjoyed the company of his ‘stick in the mud’-captain. “Nooo, Captain. Don’t ruin the fun. We just got the fun back. Me like the fun,” he whined like a child.
If he hadn’t had 5 beers already and was nursing a 6th, Jake would’ve noticed his superior officers smile as a reaction to his words, but Holt was lucky enough to get away with it this time. “Thank you for tonight, everyone. And for bringing me along for the weekend. I know it did not  live up to your expectations right away, but I am glad to see that we have seemed to work it out.”
Everyone smiled widely, raising their drinks and sharing one last ‘Nine nine!’, before the captain headed to his room for the night. The chatter between the remaining detectives (Scully and Hitchcock having passed out in the upstairs living room about an hour ago, when going to grab their late midnight snacks) continued. Suddenly Jake felt something move in his lap, causing him to remember that hours ago he’d casually removed his passed out colleague’s legs from the couch to allow himself to sit. He’d of course been very careful to not wake her and had put her legs back in their spot, though this time resting across his lap. Since then, his hand (the one that wasn’t holding his beer) had casually rested on her knee. Said knee suddenly moved beneath his palm, causing his head to turn to look at Amy’s suddenly uncomfortable facial expression.
“Good morning, sunshine. Hope you slept like hell,” Jake sent the black-haired women a big smile, contradicting his words.
“Shut up, Peralta. I feel like shit,” she groaned, as he gently pulled back a leg in order to (gently) kick his thigh, where her leg had previously rested.
“Hey!” The young detective’s exclamation was a merge between playful and hurt, accompanying a frowning face as he managed to grab her attacking foot to keep it still. “I let you rest on me and this is what I get? I am hurt, Santiago. HURT!”
As he spoke, the tired look on Amy’s face suddenly twisted and expressed a whole new level of discomfort - panic even. She tried pulling back her foot, but his immature colleague wasn’t going to let her move. “Jake!” She pulled again and again. “If you don’t let go of me right now, you’ll be having barf resting in your lap!”
Understanding the magnitude of the situation, he immediately let go of the fighting foot and watched his friend stumble off the couch before running off to the bathroom with the speed Raymond Holt post street meat. The sound of talking suddenly drowned, everyone looking after a running Amy before looking at each other and then lastly at Jake.
“What?” His eyebrows rose to enhance the confusion he was feeling from the sudden attention.
“Don’t just sit around, man. Go check up on her!” Rosa nodded in the direction in which Amy had ran, sending him wide eyes that even a slightly drunk Jake Peralta could translate to ‘You obviously still like her so act like it’.
“Oh, um- Of course. I’ll go see if she uh- needs something,” he pushed himself off the couch, suddenly feeling much more sober as he made his way upstairs while the other detectives’ chatter rose again. Immediately upon arriving upstairs, he saw that the bathroom door was left ajar and heard the sound of a heaving Amy.
“Ames?” He carefully pushed open the door only to see her kneeling in front of the toilet with her back facing him. He winced feeling a mixture of malaise and sympathy, standing still in the door frame, unsure of what to do. That was until another heave rose from the bottom of her gut, immediately causing him to run over to kneel by his friend and hold her hair. Her stupid soft hair, he couldn’t help but notice. “There you go,” he said encouragingly, slowly stroking her back with his other hand. “I know it sucks right now, but you’ll feel better once it’s all out.”
Though she wanted to, Amy didn’t get to say anything before another heave made its presence known. For the next few minutes they both stayed in the same positions, the only sound coming from the bathroom being alcohols unfortunate counter-strike. When the sound of heaving suddenly stopped reappearing every 30 seconds or so, Jake carefully got off the floor and filled the glass by the sink with cold water.
“Here,” he sat back down on the cold marble floor, presenting the water to his friend.
She shook her head, squinting her eyes in displeasure. “Can’t swallow anything. It’ll just come back up again.”
“Nonsense. You need water, Amy. Drink.”
Against her will, knowing that he was right, the young woman grabbed the glass and clumsily pushed back her messy hair with her remaining hand. Jake, seeing how her hair bothered her, noticed a hair tie on her wrist and gently removed it. Before she could comprehend it entirely, Amy Santiago was sipping on cold water as Jake Peralta struggled, yet still managed, to pull her hair back into a (very) messy pony-tail.
“Feeling better?” He dropped his hand from her hair, but let one rest on her lower back in support.
“Feeling gross,” she shot back, causing Jake to chuckle at how she somehow managed to have a good comeback even during a crisis. “But I guess also better…” She continued, putting down the now empty glass,
“Good. Lets get you to bed then. It’s just down the hall.”
Another frown and groan told Jake that his friend was all but agreeing with his demands - not that this was any surprise to him. Amy Santiago was and would always be the no to his yes. As simple and as complicated as that.  “No, just leave me here. The floor is nice and cold. If I get up, I’ll just die.”
“You’re an idiot, Santiago,” Jake pushed himself off the bathroom floor, placing his hands on his hips in a knowing matter and looking down at the beautiful mess that was his sick partner. “Not only for thinking that a stupid hangover can kill you, but also for thinking that I’ll just leave you here.”
“But I don’t wan-“ her sentence was cut short, when she suddenly felt a pair of arms picking her up bridal style. All other thoughts, feelings and sickness suddenly seemed to clear. Apparently resting tired and limp in Jake Peralta’s, arms as he carries you to bed, was a perfect cure against (too much) alcohol. Her head rested against his shoulder, too tired to bother hold it up, whilst his heart beat against her arm. Amy Santiago never thought her stupid, immature partner’s pulsing heart could put her to ease like it apparently did. Though she secretly hoped it could’ve lasted all night (or longer for that matter), she felt herself gently slip out of his arms and onto a soft, cold mattress. Next thing she knew, he’d pulled the covers back over her and was tugging her in like a father would his sick child. Though the mattress was cold, Amy could only notice the heat that was radiating from his body and smell the distant but present remains of his cologne. A smile spread across her pale face.
“Don’t smile just yet,” he smiled back down at her as he pushed back some strands of hair that escaped his embarrassment of a pony-tail. “You’ll be feeling even shittier in the morning.”
“I know,” the smile stayed stuck to her face even considering the awareness of her hungover fate.
“I’ll be right back,” he straightened back up before leaving the room, giving Amy a minute to turn onto her side and look at the empty space beside her. No one was going to lie there with her, but she wished someone would. Not only because 6-drink Amy felt very alone, but also because sober Amy had felt alone lately and she’d now finally realised just who she wanted to make her feel less so. After all the good and (many) bad times they’d been through, Amy had to admit that there really wasn’t anybody else but him who could make her feel less alone.
“I’m back with dessert,” she heard him enter the room and immediately turned back around to face him. “A fresh glass of water and the strongest pain-killer Charles could find. Enjoy.”
Though she mostly wanted to just… not ingest anything at all, she knew that Jake was just trying to take care of her and was actually right. She would definitely appreciate the water and medicine in the morning. So without too much complaining, Amy swallowed both the water and pill before sinking back down into the comfort of the bed.
“Great job. What a champ,” he jokingly praised as he grabbed the empty glass from her and placed it on the bedside table. He looked back at her, still smiling even though he was obviously more than exhausted himself. “I think my deed here is done. I’ve placed a bucket by your bed along with a clean towel.” He pushed himself off the edge of the bed as to stand up and leave.
“Jak-“ her voice was small and didn’t make it through the strong volume of his.
“If you need anything, I’ll be in the bedroom next door,” he started making his way towards to the door, but halted when he noticed her calling out his name.”
“Jake.”
He spun around, looking at her with soft eyes and expecting a duty. “Yeah?”
“Could you… Would you mind sleeping in here? With me, I mean.”
Though the room was dark, she noticed his eyes widening in surprise. The bad or good kind? She had no idea and it made her want to throw up all over again.
“Uh- Yeah,” he shook his head upon realising how reluctant he sounded. “Of course.”
Seconds later, Amy felt the duvet on his side being lifted and soon after the mattress dipping beneath the weight of his body. A whole new feeling that she hoped wouldn’t be a one-time occurrence. She turned around in the bed, only to see that he’d already positioned himself to face her. They were now face to face, and Jake could see her brown eyes burning in the night. The hair-tie had given up and slipped out of her hair a long time ago, allowing it to fall down her shoulder and cheek like soft waves of pure black gold. For a few moments, neither said anything but just looked at the other. They were both taking it all in: the unbelievable moment and feelings that came rushing back from their hiding place behind the hopeless pining.
“Is this okay?” He asked carefully, wondering whether or not he was lying too close to her, when he felt her knees accidentally stroke his.  
“Yeah,” she breathed out. “For you?”
“Yeah,” he mirrored her, adding a nod.
“Thank you for doing this. Taking care of me and staying and all… You didn’t have to.”
His lips curled into a small smile, telling her that he was relaxing. “That’s where you’re wrong, Amy Santiago. Good partners always have each other’s backs. Through thick, thin and barf.”
Right there, upon hearing her chuckle at his comment, Jake could’ve died and gone to heaven. He could die a happy man, lying right next to his stupid beautiful partner in crime. A comfortable silence swallowed them, telling Jake that the woman probably wanted to sleep. He (against his will) closed his eyes and tried to ignore his insane heartbeat that kept him awake. After a few moments, he suddenly felt himself coming down from his high when suddenly the small body beside him scooted closer. Automatically, without even thinking twice, he lifted his arm as to welcome her inside. An implicit acceptance of this, in the form of Amy Santiagos chest pressing up against his and her face was buried in the safety of his necks crook, let him know that his body had made the right choice. Another silence fell over them as she settled into him and he in the meantime stroked back her hair with his already lifted hand. Her temple was now exposed like he wanted it to be, allowing him to place a comforting kiss to it. It was long, warm and tender, making Amy feel completely whole and safe in the moment. The feeling of his lips eventually vanished only to be replaced by the almost just as comforting feeling of his arms closing around her and his head resting on top of hers like a crown. She gently returned the favour by pecking his neck before settling back down in the crook.
“Sorry if my breath smells like barf…” she mumbled into the sensitive skin, sending shivers of happiness down his spine. She could feel his chest momentarily strike hers, when a chuckle was formed before escaping his lips.
“It doesn’t bother me.”
43 notes · View notes
hailqiqi · 7 years ago
Text
The Good Type of Snitch
So this is my first Plance fic.
Birthday fic for @octaviainthewasteland, a week late but it’s done!  Happy Birthday!  And I’m sorry for spending the last week complaining about how this got away from me.
Warning for underage drinking. Blame any OOC-ness on the drinking.
Read it on AO3 here.
Words: 4,776
Pidge grumbled under her breath as she shuffled down the hall to her hangar.
 Why the hell was she even up? It had to be something like three in the morning and she’d actually been asleep for once, but noooo. Green had to nudge her again and again until she dragged her ass out of bed, threw her slippers on and headed for the hangar.
 It wouldn’t be so bad if the lion would tell her what was so important, but the only clue she’d been given was some vague sense of urgency and a desire for her company. Which made no damn sense, since they were mentally linked and could share each other’s company no matter where she was on the ship, but apparently tonight she had to be in the stupid hangar.
 The sense of smugness at the back of her brain once she’d started moving wasn’t making her any happier about the whole thing. Pidge had almost given up and headed back to her room more than once, but each time she did she got a blast of worry and a feeling of ‘Please, I need you to come here’ and that was enough to keep her moving towards her destination.
 The doors slid open and she glared up at the Green Lion, still in half a mind to scold it for dragging her out of bed so late, but the fight drained out of her the instant she recognised the other figure in the room.
 “…Lance?”
 Lance was sitting hunched over on the lion’s platform, his back against its paw and his elbows on his knees. He looked up at the intrusion, staring at her blearily for a confused moment before breaking into a sloppy grin.
 “Pidge…? ‘Sup?” He swung his head all the way back to stare up at the Green Lion’s face and poked his tongue out at it. “Snitch.”
 Gentle amusement fluttered across the back of Pidge’s mind as she started towards him. Pidge hadn’t been expecting this explanation for the contradicting messages, but she had to admit it made sense. Not an emergency, but definitely concerning.
 “Lance…?” She ventured again. “What are you doing here?”
 He shrugged in response, taking a swig from a bottle she hadn’t noticed before. “Talkin’? Dunno, just quiznak on my mind.”
 “So why are you talking to my lion and not yours?” Pidge asked as she plopped herself down on the floor next to him, leaning sideways against her lion to face him. “And what are… Wait, is that alcohol? Have you been drinking?!”
 She leaned over him and made a grab for the bottle, bringing it to her nose and sniffing. “Ugh, what is this stuff?”
 Lance shrugged again, another lopsided grin on his face. “No idea, but it’s strong. D’ya want some?”
 “No,” she replied shortly, frowning as she handed it back to him. “So? Why are you talking to my lion, and not yours?”
 He looked away, slumping a little as he shifted uneasily. Pidge wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him look like this. His shoulders were hunched, his handsome features drooped heavily, and her heart sunk as she realised that he was avoiding her gaze. Lance always looked you in the eye, no matter what he was saying, so for him to be shying away from her meant that something must have been really wrong.
 A sudden wave of desperation gripped her as she felt the all-too-familiar sensation of not knowing what the hell to do and she leaned forward to prod him, nudge him, poke him, anything to make him tell her what was wrong and just make everything normal again.  A warm weight pressed against her mind before her hand made contact, settling over her consciousness with a warm reassurance and flashing her the image of a lion staking out a waterhole. Patience, the lion chided. Watch and wait.
 She swallowed the panic back and listened.
 A few silent moments passed and then Lance began fidgeting. He lifted the bottle to his lips and gulped down a mouthful, glancing at her sideways, then looked away and studied the bands of dark and light making up the wall of the hangar. Then he looked down and picked at his shoelaces for a moment before glancing at her again.
 Pidge raised an eyebrow at him, but otherwise stayed still.
 Two more ticks and he cracked, throwing his head back with a thud that made Pidge wince. He must have been too drunk to notice, though, because all he did was screw his eyes tightly closed, shaking his head before saying: “Idunhvlietawkoo.”
 Pidge blinked. “Uh, what?”
 Lance sighed and shifted to face her. “Dunno which lion to talk to. Blue’s Allura’s now, Red’ll tell Keith an’ I can’t really hear her. Black’s out, she’ll tell Keith too. Yellow will tell Hunk who’ll come drag me to bed.” He finally met her gaze, bleary blue eyes imploring her for acceptance. “I figured Green’d be like you. Wouldn’t let me down.”
 She snorted at that, fighting back the heat threatening to rise to her cheeks at the implication. “Green did drag me down here, but she only wanted me to come and keep you company.”
 Lance shrugged and toasted the lion with the bottle before taking a sip. “The good type of snitch, I guess. I’ll take it.”
 They sat in companionable silence for a while, their soft breaths and the sound of the bottle the only noise in the hangar. Pidge worried her lip between her teeth and studied his profile.
 Did he need to talk about it with a person? Should she ask what was wrong? Or just sit here in silence with him?
 People weren’t really her forte. Pidge liked it when the correct input resulted in the corresponding output, but that really only worked on computers and people like Keith. Lance was a complete enigma to her.
 She tried nudging Green for some more advice, but the lion just sent her a mental shrug in response. Great. So she was on her own then.
 “Aren’t you gonna ask?”
 He was looking pointedly away from her. Pidge considered him for a moment, then shrugged. “You’ll tell me if you want to, whether I ask or not.”
 Lance chuckled at that and leaned forward, elbows on knees, swinging the bottle back and forth in his fingers.
 “I would tell you, but I can’t. I’m drunk and you’re sober. No bueno.”
 Pidge raised an eyebrow at that. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”
 Lance turned to grin and waggle his eyebrows at her. “Maybe,” he said, then paused, the bottle at his lips and a frown on his face. “Wait, how old are you? I don’t wanna be getting a pre-teen drunk.”
 “Oh, please,” Pidge scoffed, irritation flaring up as she reached forwards and grabbed the bottle from his hand, “I’m half-Italian. I’ve been drinking wine since I was eight.”
 She took a small sip and frowned at the taste, screwing up her nose in disgust. Definitely not wine, but not that nunvill stuff either, so it could be worse. Lance laughed at her expression and she retaliated with a glare, then took a larger mouthful, swallowing before adding: “And anyway, I’m sixteen.”
 “You’re sixteen? Seriously?”
 “Think so. Should be by now.” She poked her tongue out at him and took another sip, her heart slowly sinking as realisation set in. “Wait, did you really think I was twelve?”
 He’d never see her as anything more than a friend if he thought she was twelve. He didn’t see her as anything more than a friend anyway, but… Tendrils of amusement echoed faintly in her mind at her dismay, and Pidge pushed it away. She needed to focus on the problem in front of her at the moment, and if Green wasn’t going to help then she could be ignored.
 “Nah, I had no idea,” Lance admitted. “Figured you were somewhere between twelve and twenty. Was betting on seventeen, actually, so sixteen’s not far off.”
 “Huh.”
 He reached over and took the bottle from her, studying her carefully as he sipped. Pidge’s cheeks grew hot under his scrutiny but she met his gaze resolutely. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of making her flustered.
 Something clicked in his expression and he turned away, carefully placing the bottle down a foot or so from his hip before facing her again. There was a glint in his eye that set her on edge, and she mentally steeled herself for whatever idiot trick he was about to pull.
 “You’re just so little, thought ya might be younger,” he said, leaning towards her.
 She held her ground. “Runs in the family.”
 “Mmmhmm,” he intoned as he leaned closer, coming dangerously close to invading her personal space, and Pidge found herself fighting the urge to back down or look away. “I betcha if I held you, I could tuck you right under my chin…”
 “Wait, wha- Wah?!” Lance’s strong arms suddenly wrapped around her and dragged her onto his lap sideways, holding her tightly against his chest. Warmth radiated all the way down her side from the contact and her face felt like it was on fire. “L-Lance, what are you doing?!”
 His arms tightened around her, preventing her from squirming away, and she felt the shrug rather than saw it. “Testing it out.” A heavy weight dropped onto the top of her head, and she felt Lance let out a sigh. “See? Was right. You fit just here.”
 Pidge shoved weakly at his chest, then gave in and slumped against him, wriggling to get comfortable. It wasn’t like it was unpleasant, and she had to admit she’d imagined sitting like this more than once. Just maybe not under these circumstances.
 And speaking of circumstances…
 “If you’re going to keep me here, are you at least going to tell me what’s wrong?”
 “Nope. You’re still too sober.” His chest rumbled with laughter and she smacked her hand against it, then held it out.
 “Pass me the bottle, then.”
 —————
@mitzpitz09​ blew my mind and drew an incredible piece of art for this story here!
—————
Fifteen minutes later Pidge was having trouble reciting pi past the twentieth digit, and she figured that made her tipsy enough to talk to.
 “So,” she shifted to lean her head on his shoulder properly and grinned up at him, enjoying his warmth and the way he grinned back at her. “Quiznak on your mind. Spill.”
 Lance’s face fell immediately and she turned into him, burying her face in his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his waist. “Hey, no, don’t look like that. You’re meant to be the happy one.”
 “Yeah?” His voice was soft as he threaded the fingers of one hand through her hair, his other tightening around her waist. His chin rested on her hair and he let out a sigh before admitting, “Sometimes I don’t feel like that, though.”
 “…Why?” Her question was muffled in his jacket, but she knew he’d heard it when he let out a cynical laugh.
 “Why? You want a list?”
 His voice dripped with sarcasm, and Pidge squirmed uncomfortably to look at him again. They locked gazes for a moment, mere inches between them, and then Pidge leaned away and straightened her posture, trying to look as dignified as she possibly could while sitting in his lap.
 “Yes,” she said, nodding for emphasis. “A list. And numbered, for clarity’s sake.” She took a thoughtful sip from the now half-empty bottle before adding, “Definitely numbered. You can’t colour-code a list but we still need to have some sort of referencing system for when we work on the solutions, otherwise everything’s going to be a…a…”
 Lance grinned. “A rhinoceros?”
 She glared and poked him in the chest, passing the bottle back as she did. “No! It’ll be a mess. A mess.”
 Lance looked away for a moment, taking a sip before returning his gaze to hers. “Okay. There’s not many though.”
 “That’s good?”
 “I dunno. They’re big ones.” He took a deep breath and continued, his eyes still on her. “I like a girl who doesn’t like me back. I’m the weakest paladin. And Blue dumped me for Allura. That’s it.”
 Pidge screwed her eyes shut, her breath catching in her throat as she fought against the wave of misery threatening to engulf her at hearing he liked someone else. She knew he must, but hearing it still stung in a way she hadn’t expected.
 It must have been the alcohol. Yeah, that was why she was so emotional. She wouldn’t be thinking this way if she hadn’t been drinking.
 “Pidge?”
 She opened her eyes at the concerned question and quickly shook her head, trying to shake the feelings away. What were they talk…? Oh yeah.
 “Um,” she started. “Uh, you didn’t number them.”
 Lance snorted. “’S’only three.”
 Pidge let out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding, willing herself to relax again. “Okay, let’s do this. Two and Three first.”
 She definitely needed to be more drunk before she tackled One. Preferably unconscious.
 And was that Green laughing at her? She frowned at the sensation, then dismissed it, trying to refocus her attention on Lance. “Right. Two. Uh…?”
 Lance took another sip, shrugging. “I’m the weakest paladin.”
 Pidge narrowed her eyes at him. “Elaborate.”
 He hunched in on himself, looking away as he started talking. “I am. You’re like, this super smart genius who controls all the computers in the universe. Hunk’s crazy smart and works out cool new moves and fixes everything. Allura’s an amazing fighter and she bonded with Blue way faster than any of us bonded with our lions. Keith’s the awesome pilot who can fly anything and who Black chose as the best leader. And I’m just… I just shoot things.”
 Pidge stared at him. Quiznak. What was she meant to say to that?
 “Uh…”
 “Look, it makes sense why Black chose Keith over me. Keith’s just better than me,” he began gesturing with his hands as he continued. “But why’d Blue have to dump me too? We were tight.”
 He waved his crossed fingers in front of Pidge’s face to emphasise the point, oblivious to Pidge’s wide-eyed stare.
 “I just… I guess there’s nothing special about me,” he slumped against the lion’s paw, all the energy draining out of him in one go. He rested his hands loosely on Pidge’s hips, looking up at the transparent bay door above as he continued. “I’m a good stand-in and that’s all. The replacement paladin. Just a warm body to fill the spot until someone better comes along.”
 He raised the bottle, toasting the stars bitterly, then brought it to his lips again.
 Maybe it was the defeated tone in his voice. Maybe it was the melancholy look in his eyes. Maybe it was the utter nonsense he was spouting.
 Whatever it was, her brain suddenly caught up and Pidge snapped.
 She surged upwards, grabbing the bottle out of his hand and throwing it to the ground in front of them, not caring as it spilled its contents across the floor before dropping down the speeder shaft.
 He stared at her, temporarily stunned, and she glared back.
 “That’s not true. None of that is true.”
 Lance laughed bitterly and leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers in an intimate gesture that would have made Pidge blush if she weren’t so angry. She threaded an arm around his back, gripping his shirt with more force than strictly necessary, and maintained the glare until he closed his eyes to avoid her gaze, a pained smile still on his lips.
 “You said it yourself.” His voice was so low, Pidge almost didn’t catch it. She frowned, nudging him with her nose, and he leaned back, watching her with sad eyes before shrugging and looking away. “I’m just the goofball.”
 The distant smash of the bottle finally hitting the ground echoed softly up the shaft.
 “What? When did I say that?”
 “You don’t remember?”
 “Obviously not,” she said, tugging at his shirt to make him face her.
 He looked down at her again and sighed.
 “We were all…” He gave an abstract wave with one hand. “Talkin’. ‘Bout the Black Lion, and the leadership thing, and you said everybody has their thing. And I’m the goofball.”
 Pidge’s mouth fell open in an ‘oh’ as she suddenly realised what he was talking about.
 “So, y’know… That’s my thing. I’m just the goofball. I’m not useful, and you don’t-“
 “Lance.” She cut him off. “Did you think I was insulting you?”
 He shrugged. “No? I mean, it was the truth, right?”
 “No, no, no,” Pidge shook her head, then immediately grabbed onto his shoulders when the motion made her head spin. Warm hands on her back steadied her and she closed her eyes for a moment, waiting for the world to settle down before continuing. “Lance, I didn’t mean it like that.”
 “Don’t see how you could mean it any other way,” he replied, frowning.
 “Just… You… Argh!” She threw her hands up in frustration, then brought them to his cheeks, holding his face firmly in place. “You being a goofball is one of the things I love about you!”
 His eyes narrowed in response, but he didn’t say anything.
 “Look, I…” She looked away, biting her cheek as her hands slid down to rest loosely against his collarbone. Did she want to tell him this?
 A quick glance back at him showed he was still focused on her, that same disbelieving look in his eyes.
 Better tell him.
 “Look, after the Kerberos mission went down, I didn’t really laugh. Like, I don’t think I even smiled. Not until I met you.” She looked back up at him and was pleased to see some kind of understanding dawn across his face. “You kind of… You pulled me out of a really dark place, without even trying. And you still do it now, all the time.”
 Kneeling up in his lap, she met his gaze dead-on and poked him in the chest for emphasis. “I like that you’re a goofball, Lance. It’s one of the things I value about you most.”
 Lance’s only response was a wide-eyed stare.
 “And the paladin thing? You’re a good paladin, man. You’ve saved my life how many times?” She started counting on her fingers, but then gave up and just waved her hands in his face. “Lance, you’re our sharpshooter, you’ve got a great mind for strategy, and you keep your head when we’re all in a tight spot. I always feel safer when we’re together on missions. I need you. The whole team needs you.
 “So don’t…” She trailed off, biting her cheek, eyes slipping down to his jaw. “Don’t… Just don’t think we don’t, okay? I’m sorry you’re feeling this way, but we all think you’re important.”
 She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder and arms slipping around his waist.
 “Pidge…”
 His head dropped down to rest on hers, then suddenly his arms around her squeezed and she found herself hugged tightly against his chest. Pidge hugged him back, foolishly hoping that the simple act would be enough to heal the hurt he’d been hanging onto.
 She knew all too well that stuff like that didn’t just vanish overnight, but maybe it would be a start.
 Lance’s arms loosened up, and she readjusted until she was sideways in his lap again, leaning comfortably against his chest.
 “So, what was the third one?”
 “Blue.”
 “Did you ever think maybe it was just that Red really wanted you?”
 She felt his chest heave as he let out a short laugh in response.
 “What? Don’t you get along with Red?”
 “I do, kinda…” Lance slumped a little until he could lean his cheek on the top of her head, then continued. “I just miss Blue. And I think Red misses Keith. She’s fun to fly, but sometimes I feel like it’s unfair that I’m the one who had to change. Why couldn’t you or Hunk have swapped instead?”
 “Hunk didn’t want to swap. And can you imagine me with the sword?”
 She felt him grin against her hair. “You’d be terrifying.”
 “Exactly. Plus, Red’s second-in-command, and you wanted to be leader more than me.”
 Lance fell silent.
 “That was…” The arm around her waist tightened, then he sighed and relaxed it again. “That was more me wanting to prove that I could. I didn’t actually want to.”
 Ah. “You just didn’t wanna feel like you were losing to Keith?”
 “Yeah, something like that.”
 Maybe it was the alcohol still buzzing in her head, but Pidge felt distinctly pleased that she’d managed to figure that one out. Her people skills were finally improving.
 Lance brought his free hand - the one not around her waist - up to her elbow and started tracing lazy circles through her windbreaker. His breathing was deep and even, and it felt like warmth radiated from his entire being. It was nice. Relaxing.
 It felt right.
 “So, that leaves problem number one…” Lance trailed off, and Pidge swallowed.
 It no longer felt right.
 “You, uh…” Pidge screwed her eyes shut, trying to find some way to steel her heart against what was coming next. “You like someone. And she doesn’t like you back.”
 “Yeah.”
 “And you want my advice?” She really wasn’t drunk enough for this.
 “I…guess? I dunno. Maybe I just wanna complain, because it sucks.”
 Pidge laughed bitterly. “Yeah, I know that. It definitely sucks.”
 Lance leaned back in surprise, trying to get a look at her. “You like someone?”
 “Maybe,” she replied, steadfastly avoiding his gaze.
 “Who?”
 She really regretted throwing that bottle.
 “Not telling.”
 “Hm.”
 Pidge took a deep breath, then tapped his chest a few times. “Maybe you should try ditching the pick-up lines. They’re kinda cheap. And we all know Allura hates them.”
 He laughed, a low, warm sound that Pidge found far too pleasing, then pulled her tighter against him and rested his cheek on her head again. “I’m not talking about Allura.”
 Pidge blinked. Unexpected. But… Okay. Pidge had long lost count of the number of alien girls he’d flirted with, so it must be one of them.
 “My advice about the pick-up lines still stands.”
 “I’ve never tried a line on her.”
 Pidge frowned. “Why not?”
 Lance fell silent as he considered his answer. She felt his arms around her tighten as he pressed his face into her hair, taking a deep breath before falling still.
 Was it a guy? Was he gay, and all the flirting was just a cover-up? He should know that that would make no difference to how anyone saw him, but she could understand if that was what made him so nervous. Maybe it would be easier for him to come out and say it if she asked.
 He cut her off before she could get the words out.
 “She’s an actual genius. She’s way too smart to fall for a line.”
 And just like that, all the pieces suddenly slid into place for Pidge. The touches, the looks, why he was with Green instead of Blue or Red, why he always kept her company late at night and why he always insisted she explain whatever she was working on to him even when he obviously didn’t care. He liked her. Lance liked her.
 Lance actually liked her and that didn’t make sense because she wasn’t his type but it did make sense because it explained everything and he was sitting here telling her he liked her so that meant he must like her and… and… just…
 “…What?” She squeaked.
 Green was laughing at her.
 “I just… She’s really smart,” Lance’s arms suddenly tightened around her, and his next words fell out in a rush. “She’s smart and stupidly pretty, even if she doesn’t try to be pretty or think she’s pretty or whatever, she just is. And she’s funny. And brave and fierce and vulnerable and caring and can be really dorky and stupid for someone so clever and I just…”
 He took a deep breath, then pressed his cheek against her head, holding her even closer.
 “I fell for her. I dunno when or why or how, but I did and…and I’m sorry, Pidge. I didn’t mean to. And I know you’re way too smart to fall for someone like me.”
 “I… What?”
 Lance suddenly began pulling away, lifting her gently off his lap. “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kept you up and I shouldn’t have told you that and made it awkward. I’m gonna… go. Yeah.”
 “Wait… Wait!” Pidge’s hands grappled for purchase, tugging on his shoulders to stop him from putting her down. “I’m too what?!”
 Lance paused, and she took the opportunity to knock his arms off her and kneel up on his thighs again.
 Now she was face-to-face with him she could see the way his brows furrowed with confusion, the way his eyes searched her face for answers. He looked so vulnerable in this moment, yet so defeated, and maybe she should have been the Red Paladin instead of him because for the third time that night all she felt was pissed off.
 “How could you think that?!” She demanded, hands smacking against his shoulders. “You didn’t know?!”
 “I… Know what?” Lance floundered.
 “Know I… Argh!” She threw her head back in frustration. “Oh my god, Lance, how could you not know?! Even Keith knew!”
 “Keith?”
 “Yes, Keith!” A rumble echoed off the walls as Green began laughing again, this time out loud. “Even I-don’t-know-how-people-work Keith figured out I had a crush on you, and you’re sitting here moping because you’ve just gone and decided that I’m too smart to ever like you?! Ugh!”
 Lance froze, shocked, and Pidge leaned forward to smack her head against his collarbone.
 “You’re such an idiot. Oh my god, Lance, I have liked you for forever and I knew there wasn’t a hope in hell of you ever liking me back but-”
 “Hey, Pidge?” Lance’s voice was soft as his arms wrapped around her, holding her tight against him and cutting her rant off.
 The movement doused the flames of Pidge’s anger and she froze as she suddenly became very aware of what she’d just been saying, and to who.
 Quiznak.
 “Look at me for a second?”
 She buried her head in his chest, trying to even out her breath and calm her pounding heart before nervously meeting his gaze.
 Gentle fingers tilted her chin up and the next thing she knew soft lips were pressed against her own. She barely had a chance to register the contact before he was pulling away, stopping too far for her liking yet so close that she could feel his warm breath on her lips, his blue eyes searching her own for some answer she wasn’t sure she had.
 For the first time in her life, her thoughts were quiet. There was nothing in her mind but the gentle feeling of his fingers on her skin and the soft sounds of their breath.
 It was nice.
 Lance broke the silence first. “You like me back?”
 Pidge responded with a short nod, blushing.
 “So… We like each other.”
 He grinned at her shyly, his dark cheeks dusted pink, and she smiled back.
 Words suddenly felt a little beyond her, but she hoped he’d got the message. If the way his eyes lit up were any indication, he definitely had.
 “Okay,” he breathed, nodding slowly. “Okay.”
 And then Pidge closed the distance between them, her lips meeting his again as his arms came around her to hold her more securely, tingles of electricity shooting through her wherever they touched. Her arms wound around his neck and she tilted her head for a better angle, pleased with the way he moaned slightly as his mouth slid against her own. He tasted like whatever had been in that bottle, and she wondered if he thought it tasted better on her lips, too.
 They pulled apart to breathe and then met again, pressing against each other more firmly, kissing more deeply, holding on more tightly. Each kiss was warm and sweet and full of promise, and Pidge was amazed at how easy this was. It felt right.
 She pulled back to rest her forehead against his, smiling as she looked into the deep blue of his eyes, and sent a mental thank-you to the Green Lion for dragging her out of bed that night.
73 notes · View notes
zoesmcsmstuff · 7 years ago
Text
a pre-episode 1 jesskas fic thing
[GETS A BIT STEAMY BUT NOTHING REALLY HAPPENS]
So. A big party. Lukas was usually invited to these, being part of his Ocelot gang. Music was playing, people chatted and talked, people danced around, and there was plenty of food to go around. And of course, what would a party like this be without alcohol?
Lukas could usually tolerate 2-3 beers without any trouble, having built up a bit of a resistance over time from parties like these. It was about 10:32PM at the moment and everything was still in full swing, undeterred by the night.
“Some party, ey, Lukas?” Aiden leaned against the table of food with a bottle in his hand.
“Yeah, some party.” Lukas agreed. He wasn't sure why he was hovering around the food table a lot, maybe because he was hungry and the pizza was long gone. He wondered if he should order more as a passing thought.
“You think it'll get any better tonight?” Aiden murmured, leaning close so Lukas could hear him over the loud music.
“I'm sure it'll get wilder.” Lukas chuckled, tossing the empty bottle he was holding into a nearby bin. That was his third one, maybe he could lay off it for a bit. His mind was feeling a little wobbly already.
His eyes were suddenly drawn to Maya and Gill walking over to them, quietly snickering.
“What's up, guys?” Lukas folded his arms, looking between them.
“Did you hear…?” Maya had a cruel smile on her face. “Someone invited Jesse and his gang…”
“Probably out of sympathy.” Gill added.
“Jesse…? Why Jesse?” Lukas raised an eyebrow. “Jesse's probably hasn't gone to a party in his life.”
“That's why I said sympathy.”
Aiden wrapped his arms around Maya’s and Gill’s shoulders as they entered the lounge room to hit the dance floor. Lukas hung around by the food table more, maybe hoping more pizza would be ordered…
Jesse suddenly stumbled out of the crowd, ending up falling on Lukas’ chest within a few seconds of seeing him.
“Ow!” Lukas made a pained noise as the smaller man suddenly fell on his chest. “J-Jesse?”
Jesse looked up at him, gripping his jacket. He gave a slow smile. “H-heyy, Lukas…” He was slurring his words a lot. Considering the fact he'd just semi collapsed, Lukas didn't feel like Jesse should be here. He didn't want him to embarrass himself.
“Hey, Jesse.” Lukas stood up straight, noticing Jesse was a good few inches shorter than him. He was shorter than most people, actually. “Could you come this way?”
“S-suuure…” Jesse held onto him, wrapping his arms around him. Lukas pushed him off but took him upstairs by the wrist instead, making sure he could get up the stairs.
--
The upstairs floor was quiet, although they could still hear what was going on down below. Lukas took Jesse into a quiet room before finding a walk-in closet with a door.
Jesse just let himself be pulled inside as Lukas shut the door, feeling for a lightswitch in the dark. He flicked the light on, making the room lit with a dim yellow glow.
Jesse was curled up in the corner against a coat that had fallen down, looking rather tired, actually. Lukas sat down next to him sympathetically.
“These kinds of parties aren't your scene at all, Jesse, who, who invited you?” Lukas wondered if someone had invited him as a cruel joke of sorts…
“Ohh, I wasn't invited…” Jesse slurred, leaning his head on Lukas’ shoulder. “Olivia was, and she said I could come…”
Lukas decided that made a bit more sense. He didn't know Olivia too well but he knew she did have some connections to cool people.
“Have… have you touched alcohol in your life before today?” Lukas asked…
“N-nope…” Jesse replied. “Never really… wanted it…”
Lukas sighed. He was definitely not the person to be at this party, or any party, for that matter.
“Look…” Lukas stood up before Jesse interrupted him, hugging his leg.
“D-don't go, Lukas…” Jesse spoke slowly, rubbing his cheek against his leg. Lukas blinked awkwardly.
Lukas did like Jesse. He thought he was cute with his suspenders and smile and hair. He had brought him up here to take him out of the crowd because he cared and didn't want him to hurt himself. This was… a surprise.
“I might just see about getting you home, okay?” Lukas replied.
“B-but… I love you…” Jesse slurred, gripping onto him tighter.
Lukas felt his heart melt right there. Those three words he'd wanted to hear for almost years, but he never actually expected them…
Lukas decided to sit down in front of him, all other thoughts having evaporated. He was a little tipsy from everything himself, so he wasn't really thinking properly either.
“I love you too, Jesse…” He whispered, pressing his forehead against Jesse's.
Jesse seemed to slowly smile as Lukas kissed him deeply. Lukas felt a bit of guilt for doing this, the man was drunk and definitely wouldn’t have said anything if he was sober... His lips tasted strongly like alcohol…
Jesse ended up taking Lukas’ hips and kissing a bit more deeply, although kind of messily… Lukas returned it until ending up with his tongue in his mouth.
They went at it like this for a while until Jesse simply pushed him away, looking him deeply in the eyes.
“...I’m sorry.” Lukas apologised, only to see a half smile on Jesse’s face.
“N-no… no need to be sorry…” Jesse murmured, rubbing his head…
“I should take you back to your treehouse…” Lukas got up, awkwardly wiping his mouth on his sleeve.
“T-take me…” Jesse allowed himself to be helped up.
--
Lukas quickly ducked out of the party to go take Jesse back to his treehouse, making sure he was safe and okay for the night, before heading back to the party. He wanted to drink more and just forget that happened…
The next morning, the both of them would have forgotten.
29 notes · View notes
apuppyforpresident · 6 years ago
Text
“write about a character after a New Years party”
Dan didn't like New Years parties all that much, but the fear of missing out compelled him to go nonetheless. There was just so much drinking involved in the holiday season, it was exhausting - from the idiotic twelve pubs tradition to the lame office parties, Dan had had just about enough. But clearly not enough that it would stop him from going and trying to have a good time - besides, he had a Tinder date lined up, but while she looked a 10 online, her personality said 4. But then who went on Tinder looking for personality? Dan, apparently.
Dan just wanted something real, someone to keep him going for more than one night, someone to talk to and someone to love. But, sure, what was he hoping for at a New Years party in a club? You didn't meet decent people at clubs, everyone knew that. New Years parties in themselves were boring as fuck - sure everyone was hyped and excited before twelve, but once midnight arrived, and the couples kissed and the shots were downed, the novelty wore off within about three minutes.
Dan realised pretty quickly that the previous few New Years parties had all followed the same format, and he was tired of it. His date was pretty wasted already, but she was a waste of space anyway, and Dan was a bit tipsy himself - he left her at the bar after giving some excuse about feeling sick.
And it was this way that Dan found himself kicking a stone down the busy street, crowded with revellers; a taxi here, waiting patiently for the late-night animals; a drunk girl there, holding her heels in her hands and being supported by her friends. He kicked the stone further. He was sick of all the noise, all the clutter, all the drama and buzz of nights out - the pre-drinking, the infuriating drunkards, the shenanigans of fearless men in their 20's with liquid courage. He kicked the stone further. Every night out felt like a broken record to Dan. He kicked the stone further.
"What's your problem?"
Dan stopped abruptly: it took a moment for him to register the colourful rainbow lights outside the city's only gay bar, the fluttering by his ear as the pride flag hanging by the door. It took even longer for him, in his inebriated state, to notice he'd just kicked the pebble into the leg of a patron vaping outside the club doors.
"Sorry," he hastily said, sobering up, "accident."
The stranger - another man in his 20's, with pink streaks in his floppy hair and a deep black leather jacket - kicked the pebble back at Dan.
"You'd want to be careful," he said, "sure that could be seen as homophobic."
Dan laughed awkwardly. "Just an accident, mate - I'm not homophobic, I swear."
"Ally?"
"Bisexual."
"Ah." The stranger took another puff from his e-cigarette, the smoke rising slowly in the cold air, mixing with his breath. "I'm gay through and through. About as straight as the Mississippi."
Dan cast his mind far back to geography class, his brows furrowed - the stranger drew a squiggly line in the air, a meandering imprint on Dan's eyes. He nodded slowly.
"I wouldn't have said bi from lookin' at you," the other man said. Dan cocked his head. "I'd have said... pan. Maybe."
"Well I definitely would've said gay from looking at you," Dan replied. "It's the pink hair. That's super gay."
The stranger laughed, a full, loud one like a bark. It made Dan chuckle.
"What do they call you?"
"Dan."
"Dan? Chris." Chris extended his hand. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."
"I... bid you adieu," Dan replied, trying to sound formal, but then he realised what "bid adieu" meant. "I mean... not goodbye, I mean... hi."
Chris laughed again, a bit too hard for the lameness of the joke. "So how do you earn your daily bread, Dan?"
"I'm in training to be a Garda - yourself?"
"I own this place," Chris said, pointing his e-cig at the bar behind them. "A Garda, huh? What compelled you to pick that particular profession?"
"Oh, you know, the uniform," Dan joked, and Chris grinned. "For real - since I was young, I always wanted to be one. My dad was one. Hope that doesn't make me a sheep."
"Not at all." Chris cocked his head in the direction of his bar. "Sure wasn't my own father a landlord himself? - admittedly, he didn't own a gay bar."
Dan nodded slowly, feeling that the conversation was reaching its untimely death. He asked, "What kind of bar was it, so?"
"You're not really interested - it was a small-town pub and hotel."
"Well that's boring." Dan scrunched up his face in mock-disapproval, and Chris chuckled.
A pause, a beat. In the background a drunk couple were getting a bit too close. Both men saw it, and Chris pretended to gag.
"Straights - gross," he remarked, glancing at his watch. "It's nearly time-"
"What flavour is that?" Dan asked, pointing to the e-cig Christ held between delicate, long fingers.
"Oh - uh - mulled wine. Festive," Chris replied. He hesitated, eyes glancing from his watch to Dan. "Do you want to try it?"
Dan didn't smoke - someone had offered him a cigarette was a teenager and it had nearly made him sick, so he averted anything that involved inhaling fumes - but he didn't want to look a fool in front of Chris. He took the e-cig carefully, nodded absentmindedly as Chris told him how to use it, and then, slowly, took a careful puff.
He felt the vapour tickle the back of his throat, inhaled as deep as he could - it was just like smelling mulled wine, except for the crackling sound from the device. It was much, much better than tobacco.
He handed it back, nodding - "That's nice. Very... aromatic. Festive."
Chris took another puff and then pocketed the e-cig. He looked at his watch again and said, "Fifteen minutes to midnight - I have to go back in and prep for the countdown."
Dan's face fell - was it really time? Could he not just have another few minutes with this mysterious, fabulous stranger?
"Come on in - drinks are on the house," Chris added.
"You sure?"
"Absolutely! - sure, I need to round off 2018 with one good deed, at least."
Chris reached out, grabbing Dan's hand and pulling him into the doors of the bar. The next fifteen minutes were a blur - colour, alcohol, excitement, music thump-thump-thumping in his ears and through the floor and through his chest, like a knife. Chris poured Dan a beer and then left him at the bar, saying he'd be back for the countdown. Dan drank the beer quickly, not knowing what to do with his hands, his eyes - he watched the dancers, the couples, the gaggles of flamboyant friends, living for the moment. He wished he could join them, be spontaneous like them. He kept drinking.
Ten minutes later and the music quietened, the lights brightened, and all attention was drawn to one wall, where there was projected a 60-second countdown. And there stood Chris - changed from his dark shirt to a bright pink one with the name of the bar and "2019" printed in bright, red letters.
He whetted the audience's appetite, thanking them for spending the night with his bar, promising one free drink to everyone, and briefly alluding to previous New Years parties, earning laughter from the drunker patrons.
He added, in a more sombre note, "Unfortunately, as you all know, this is the last and final New Years party we'll have the pleasure of hosting here - but let that not take away from the memories we've made, the friendships and relationships that have been born within these walls-
"Get on with it!" a bartender hollered, and Chris laughed out loud.
"Now, let the countdown begin - ten... nine... eight..."
The patrons shouted out the numbers, getting louder and louder as they got closer to midnight - Dan shouted at the top of his voice - suddenly, the room erupted in pounding music, glasses clinking and clapping, another New Year done and dusted. The bartender poured him and Dan two shots; they clinked their glasses and toasted the celebration.
"Is this place shutting down?" Dan shouted into the bartender's ear, leaning over the bar.
"Another two months-" the bartender indicated with his fingers "-not making enough money."
Chris appeared next to the bartender, started immediately pouring drinks for patrons who wanted to claim a free one. So everyone was getting free drinks, not just Dan, apparently. He smiled at Dan, a slow smile that wasn't sincere, and quickly looked away.
Dan cast his eyes to the room, drinking in the atmosphere like he had that shot - unlike any other club after midnight, this one was still buzzing, and it looked like it would be until the early hours. He didn't know what to do with himself, since he only knew Chris and Chris was busy - so he ordered another beer and took a few films for his Snapchat story, killing time.
At around half twelve, a hand yanked his phone out of his hand and Chris stood in its place, very close to Dan. He replaced Dan's phone to his front pocket and took the empty glass too, placing it atop the bar.
"Can't have you all alone on New Years," Chris shouted in Dan's ear, his breath fanning Dan's skin and making his hair stand up. "Dance with me."
Chris was a finer dancer by far than Dan - he put his entire personality, all of his energy into the cleanest, slickest moves Dan had seen in a long time. His body flowed like a river, making Dan suddenly self-conscious about his own awkward stumbling and clapping. Chris didn't judge him, though - he encouraged Dan, even trying to teach him one or two easier moves, which Dan would be sure to forget in the morning. Their bodies were so close, their hands brushing once or twice, the air felt electric - Chris's eyes were not shying away from looking Dan up and down.
After a few songs, and even with the energy lent to him by alcohol, Dan felt his fatigue catch up with him, and he pulled Chris off the dance floor to the bar.
"I have to go," he shouted, "early start tomorrow!"
"Thanks for stopping by," Chris shouted back. "See you here again, yeah?"
"Yeah!"
"Alright, then." Chris's dark eyes lingered, as if waiting for something from Dan, waiting for a sign, a signal, a move. He put his hand on Dan's elbow, gently squeezed, and Dan felt it through his whole body, like the bass. "Good luck!"
And he turned, swiftly, not giving Dan time to respond, to ask for his number or even say goodbye.
Dan picked up a beer mat as a memento and left too, shivering violently as soon as the cold, cold New Years air hit him. It was a relief from the sweaty atmosphere inside, but enveloped him uncaringly, and he immediately wanted to go back inside.
He walked on, the freezing wind making his shirt flap behind him, hands buried deep in his pockets. His thumb traced the edge of the beer mat, his thoughts still firmly on Chris and that enigmatic smile, that hypnotic dance. Was it madness to think there was something there? Sure, Chris was attractive, and maybe that's all it was - but the way he'd touched his elbow, the pleading look in his eyes told Dan it wasn't one-sided. Chris even gave him free drinks - but everyone else got the same. Even so... Dan was sick of waiting for the other person to make a move, sick of not being spontaneous and depending on the wants and intents of others. He played a role in his life too, surely?
He stopped by a streetlamp, fumbled around his pockets for a pen, and hastily scribbled his name and number on the beer mat - then he dashed back to the club, flashed his ID at the bouncer, and scouted the dance floor for Chris. He'd recognise that dance from a mile off, so where was he? Panic arose in him - what if it was a misunderstanding, what if Chris was just a flirt by nature and that's how he was with everyone? - Dan had known his fair share of gay men like that.
It took him a minute to remember that Chris wouldn't be on the dance floor since he owned the place - so he pushed his way through the revellers to the bar, finding Chris elegantly making a cocktail for a waiting patron. Dan watched, admiring the care Chris put in to making drinks, the delicacy with which he handled the ingredients.
Chris slid the glass over the bar to the customer, put the cash in the till, and turned to the next customer - Dan. At first Chris looked surprised, jumped a bit, and then a wide smile broke out, crinkling the corners of his eyes.
"Forget something, stranger?" he asked, straining to be heard over the music.
"To give you this," Dan shouted, and handed Chris the beer mat. Chris laughed, pocketing it quickly.
"Call me," Dan mouthed, putting his hand to his ear as if it was a phone.
0 notes