Love Sea - A Trash Watch Smolder
Well my BLabies, do you have your drinks ready?
Are your smores stabbed on dildos, ready to roast over the stinking flames? (Or whatever one prods smores with, I missed that weird American tradition in my misspent youth.)
Can you smell it in the air? The smell of burning trash?
Let the dumpster fire begin. Another Mame offering is upon us.
The Background
The Mameverse tends to interlock, but all signs point to these being entirely new characters. (Click on that link if you want my thoughts on this author/producer and what I feel she does well and poorly.) Meanwhile, here's the brief:
Who?
FortPeat - established couple from previous Mame offering Love in the Air AKA LITA (trash watched here).
How do we feel about them? We likie. They a great pair. Steady, established actors, good a promo, but not too good. Bit one note but can't ask for too much when it comes with such great chemistry.
What do we know about them as actors? Fort is legitimately in Engineering (hilarious). Peat and he started in the industry around the same time with bit parts, but Peat is 4 years older. They do high heat and they do it well. They were quite popular after their first series and have received sponsorships. So they wisely stayed branded and it's nice to see them on our screens again.
What?
Love Sea
While travelling a writer has a one night stand with a very irritating man.
When?
Sundays
Where?
iQIYI (AKA icky)
Why?
Mame
To what degree?
Stick your thermometer into that fire, we gonna find out. 102°C I expect.
Episode One - That's An Outfit We'd All Wear to a Tropical Island
Here’s the thing. Icky has decided (in its infinite wisdom) that it will no longer allow screen caps on mobile devices. Which means you’re going to get my loquaciousness on this dumpster fire with no respite from the unmitigated madness via photos of pretty boys saying stupid things.
So. Read at your own risk.
I have a bottle of sake and a maple doughnut (don’t knock it 'til you’ve tried it) so let’s get started!
Hold onto your dildo smores BLabies we are in Mame Country. And apparently that country has its very own baby drone to film with now. (Look, the one thing BL rarely needs more distance shots. That’s not what we’re here for, people. Certainly not from FortPeat.)
Rak, baby, I'm loving the all-black western meets goth-rocker look but that eye make-up is the true star. This is how I shall dress when I visit Thailand next. (Oh, you think I'm joking? Gotta work on my smokey eye.)
Meanwhile, if your suitcases are that expensive, why aren’t they matched?
P'ABL asking the important questions for once.
Speaking of important questions:
Why are siblings always trying to pimp each other out in Mame’s stuff? Does anyone else find this creepy? I think it’s odd to be your sibling's wingman when he's chasing tail. It’s edging into the incest taboo. Oh dear, I said edging and incest in the same sentence, I’m probubly giving Mame ideas.
I’m getting Hometown Cha Cha Cha vibes from Mut.
Rak is such a cat, very picky and stand-offish. Mut is such a puppy. Very conflicting personalities. Not a bad combo. Also Rich/poor. Country/city.
The "let’s get it on" music is hilarious. But at least Mame doesn't use egregious sound effects in her shows. Well, not as many as GMMTV. Small mercies.
I will say, FortPeat do hurt/comfort very well. Peat is good at prickly fragile baby-girl. Fort is good at cocky arrogant prick. They are good at bouncing off of each other and still showing desire. Frankly, chemistry is not one of their problems. They’re fine little actors. It’s just the story is going to betray them. Characters are going to be inexplicably evil for no good reason. And we are going to feel manipulated as a result.
But right now?
It’s fine.
And that's it, that's how I feel about Love Sea.
All in all, I’m quite drunk and it wasn’t warranted.
Waste of sake. Not a waste of a maple doughnut. No such thing. Maple donuts are always put to good use.
Okay, so Mame? Just keep it on this level and we'll remain fine. Some light terrorizing and stalking, a smidge of breaking and entering. Nothing more offensive, okay?
But that’s my eternal optimism (and the sake) talking.
Right now I’m not feeling very strongly in any direction about this show. I haven’t been whipped into a verbal frenzy.
This has been a lackluster start.
Kortord tukorn
(sorry all)
This trash watch has started off as more of a dumpster smolder. A light recycling. (Like Mame and her character archetypes.)
We smokey rather than flaming (Like Rak's FANTASTIC eye makeup.)
Oof, I feel faintly ill. I think that is the sake, tho, not the eye make up. Which was on point! Although when he started to cry, it should’ve started running down his face. Life has very few stand out moments of glory apart from an adorable young man with eye makeup running down his face.
Catch ya next week. More sake, less doughnut.
su su na
Episode Two - Rack's Green Knit Shirt is Kinda Cute
I seriously cannot fault FortPeat's chemistry. And the opening sequence for this ep was intriguingly full of banter and then...
Surprise, BJ!
I do hope that beach is private. Starting with a BJ is very unusual in a BL. We certainly lick live in interesting times.
I feel like I haven't quite been warmed up to a sex scene yet. Kinda came out of nowhere. I mean it IS quite gay, making the prick front and center before the relationship gets going. But I was oddly indifferent to this start.
I'm on gd roll tonight apparently.
You know why? (Well, I'm me, but also...)
I feel like I have license. This show is kinda rude. Is that the word I’m looking for? Yes, rude. It's not very sexy, and it's not quite dirty, it's something else. Rude.
I’m not upset about it. It’s just odd. Like Thailand is trying on some Japanese button pushing for size.
I’m not mad just mildly confused.
Meanwhile, the GL sides are a "whipping girl" trope? Not sure I’ve ever we seen that combo before. Gay mean girls or something?
On an entirely different note, BL universe, I just thought I'd tell you that’s not where a gay man of Rak's caliber puts his perfume. Just FYI.
I love claiming.
I love a public claiming!
I don’t care if this is Mame.
I LOVE A CLAIMING.
Also, I am very much enjoying MutRak banter. Actually, I’m pretty much enjoying this episode.
OOOO, I typed too soon.
The second half is kinda dull.
Mame's little moment of "Author insert" was awful ham-handed and on the nose. On the prick? On the ego? She compared her own rampant mischaracterization and audience manipulation to the presence of dragons in a fantasy world? Basically saying: in BL my characters don’t have to be consistent, because that’s part of the genre.
I assure you, sweetheart, there are plenty of BLs and plenty of authors who have honest characterization that stays consistent throughout, and GASP actually bolsters faithful stories and drives plot with a conflict sourced in that consistency. Wandee Goodday... to pluck a randomly contemporaneous example out of thin air.
You should try it sometime.
Ooo, now I'm salty.
Episode 3 - But Now, I'm Bored
Before we start....
Linguistics Corner!
Because I got an Ask here's a bit on these two and their pronouns! (We can see if my predictions are correct during the course of this trash watch.)
We are in the realm of adult characters not school setting or friendship groups so Rak is using chan/nai and khun with Mut. There is a class & wealth difference with them, + Mut starts out as a kind of employee, so chan/nai makes perfect sense. It's an old fashioned but polite way of speaking that dodges age negotiations.
Rak likely doesn't know their respective ages (he could be the older one). To even begin the discussion implies a willingness to use more intimate language so Rak likely doesn't wanna open that can of worms pronouns. He is using both chan/nai and his lack of flexibility around their use as a distancing tactic. Probubly instinctively. Pom or own name would be both intimate and status lowering for him to use.
With most adult characters, phi/nong takes longer to establish (if ever), particularly if they start out as strangers. Also, it has much more intimate connotations. And by that I mean: emotional vulnerability not sex.
It's fun to pay attention tho, because when these two pronoun shift (and they will) it's likely to be a significant moment in their romantic arc. If I'm lucky we will get a negotiation but that's not really a Meme thing so I suspect Mut will soften his language first. Because of Mut's characterization, and in order to ramp up the romance, I would actually expect these two to (eventually) parlay into rao/ter instead of phi/pom or guu/mueng.
But I am looking forward to finding out how it's handled.
And now onto the episode.
...
..
.
Over a quarter way through and I have absolutely nothing to say. I apologize, this muse be a very boring trash watch. (Imagine how I feel?) I’m too tired to drink but even if there were alcohol in my system, I still think I would have nothing to say.
Oh. Is that? Do I sense.... *GASP*
Traumatic backstories for our characters?
From Mame? Who seems to believe that no character can have depth without suffering?
Say it isn't so?
OK we’re now halfway through this episode and apparently there’s been a Time-lapse of some kind? A couple of weeks?
So this little cat & dog game they’ve been playing has been going on for a while?
Meanwhile...
I had a huge grin on my face at the moment Ja showed up. I guess I really miss him on my screen. Hi tall drink of water.
Oh, hydration.
Back to the show.
Just two boys with abandonment issues learning how to turn a vacation fling into a relationship mistake.
Also it’s a bit too early for that level of confessional. Isn't it? Well pacing-wise for a BL it feels that way. Are we now about to turn into a country mouse narrative?
On an entirely different note, it’s fascinating to have FortPeat and MosBank airing to high heat BLs at the same time. Especially as they're running on about the same release schedule. I’m enjoying watching 2 pairs both like in chemistry.
WAIT.
I sense a parody coming on.
Two branded pairs, both alike in chemistry,
In fair Thailand, where all the cute boys yearn,
From ancient grudge to suffer new Mame,
Where trash watches make dumpster fires burn.
From Fort the fatal loins of these two hoes (I HAD TO).
A pair of branded pairs take on the heat;
Whose narratives will oft include no clothes,
Do with their smooches fight Tumblr critique.
Such shameful usage of the dub-con trope,
(Contrasted to others thirsty scenes,)
Which, but for Mame's brand, all would say nope,
Is now 12 eps of angst upon our screens.
To wit, if you want sex without my diatribes,
Give this a pass and watch Sunset X Vibes.
Thank you thank you. That is for the 3 people reading this who care.
Where was I?
Or right, no fault to FortPeat. Both pairs are working with the characters and scripts that they've been given.
But right now the sexitimes in this show just feel a lot more service and a lot less genuine (for lack of a better word) then Sunset X Vibes. Now, I know that the characters, narrative, and production company preferences are completely different, but the consummate interplay between surrender and hunger and consummation are oddly similar between these pairs, and yet they're reading (from this side of the screen) completely differently.
I don’t know where I’m going with this.
I just think we have an interesting study in heat and chemistry airing double down right now. And I wonder is anyone else is sensing what I'm sensing.
Writing that sonnet (or whatever) has utterly exhausted me. Nighty night. Don't let the guy-who-took-a-copy-of-your-hotel-key-and-broke-into-your-room bite.
Episode 4 - And Now, I'm Bored & Annoyed
I rushed back from the wilds of foreign climes to trash watch what exactly?
All this time spent establishing Mut as a
pillar of his community
really important lynchpin for oceanic conservation work
striving for his independence
building local friendships and surrogate family
the de facto mayor of this island
And he just leaves for Bangkok to be a boy toy?
And they JOKE about it?
Is the stuff between Mook and Mut supposed to be funny? It's not.
I got so bored I started looking up ways to organize my sunglasses.
Why is Mook so worried about Rak? He’s clearly an asshole who can take care of himself.
What is Mut doing with his life?
What am I doing with mine?
Too early in the series for an existential crisis.
I definitely need to start drinking again for this one.
Episode 5 - In which I simultaneously got even more bored & more annoyed
This time I armed myself with both booze and sugar. Unfortunately, there are some things even alcohol and chocolate can't cure. Mame is one of those things.
The bullying GL subplot is just BAD.
I’m getting an overall EPIC SQUICK from the fact that the two rich privileged characters are essentially taking advantage of the two lower class poorer characters. It’s not a power dynamic I enjoy at all. Ever.
So... everyone in Rak’s family is an extreme bitch, including him? Okaaay.
I mean Rak is pretty and all but I fail to understand the appeal. Maybe Mut just likes bitches? Maybe the sex really is that great?
I tell you, I wouldn’t put up with it.
ARGH. I'm just I’m not finding any of the character dynamics appealing in this show. I never thought I’d say this, but I wish I were back in LITA territory.
I’m honestly sorry this trash watch is so bad.
This show isn’t inspiring me into anything but a general feeling of mild annoyance and slight fury.
It's like this rash I had in Stockholm one time.
Startlingly unpleasant, not what one might hope for, but also it could be worse, I suppose.
Episode 6 - In which I get very upset about jealousy
Tonight I'm combining my sugar with my alcohol and drinking chocolate soy milk with chocolate liquor in it. I'm aware that I have a child's taste in booze. The secret is I don't actually enjoy alcohol, I simply need it to survive Mame.
OK let’s do it.
Rich boy shops when sad.
Frankly, that always makes me feel better too. I prefer the snack aisle myself.
Oh. Goodie. You get to now watch ABL completely losing an entire brain due to raging at the machine because of one sentence.
Ready?
Chapter 6: Jealousy is a Sign of Love
Jealousy is a sign of love?! You absolute fuckers. Jealousy is not a sign of love, jealousy is a sign of possession, insecurity, insanity, and often abuse. Jealousy is a sign to dump that shithead as quickly as possible.
I mean, we all understand the story beat: in BL possession is revered and admired and used to drive plot when all other avenues have been exhausted. But you can’t just say it as the title of an episode! That’s too blatant.
TOO FAR!
Returning to the traumatic backstory.
No, actually. Let’s skip that part.
I do like it when Rak gets all bossy. I love it when a spoiled boy manipulates his man's body to be his bolster pillow. Taiwan is particularly good at this.
Should I just go watch We Best Love for the 1millionth time instead of this show?
Too tempting.
Where was I?
It’s not even halfway through and I’ve already finished my drink in desperation. And am day dreaming of better shows.
Honestly, I have had many feelings about Meme over the years, but I don’t think I’ve ever been this bored with any of her stuff. I’d rather feel something than nothing.
Meanwhile, the GL moves on from bullying to outright manipulation and gaslighting. Cute. Added French for flavor.
I do like a smile kiss. And a lap sit. And so forth. So Fort.
Yes these two do sex scenes very well.
Give me something more.
Anything.
On the bright side... so far... no singing.
Episode 7 - I'm Too Drunk for This
This time, I decided to pre-game. So I went in tipsy. I’m hoping this improves my mood.
Look, I'm doing my best for you here. (Or am I doing my floppyest for you? Eh, same difference.)
Frankly, what’s really annoying me is that I am neither upset nor pleased with this flipping show. Turns out, I like to be driven one way or the other by Mame. But this show? Nada. It's a VOID.
At this juncture I'd prefer to feel rage than indifference.
I gotta say that thinking about this purely as a soap opera makes me understand it more. I don't like it any better, but I get what's going on. These are the Days of Our BL.
Oh hey, I know that convention center! Best food in the biz.
The revenge bit was fun I guess?
Ooo. Now I kinda wanna rewatch Shelter. It’s been ages. Such a great movie.
Where was I?
Oh, right, the crazy cousin character. I don’t understand what’s going on with her. Why do we need her? Why is she here? What’s her motivation?
I’m too drunk for this shit.
I'm going to bed.
Episode 8 - I'm Not Drunk Enough for This
(I detect a theme)
Okay so the hotel wifi is not awful, we gonna try watching icky with it. Always a challenge. Wish me luck!
Wouldn't it be fun if Mut has been conning Rak with this good guy persona the entire time and he really is just after money? I kinda love the idea.
Sadly, I think this is way more boring.
Rak is just a bitch, not even a sublime bitch, but a boring bitch. That's worse than a basic one.
The drama with the dad just seems manufactured. I mean what does the dad want except to be evil?
I mean I know what Mame wants, an excuse for Rak to break Mut's heart.
And now, I'm annoyed and hungry. Imma eat hotel snacks and disappointment in equal measure.
Episode 9 - Perhaps I'm the problem?
I did this already and then tumblr ate it so this time around it's not as witty. Trust me that in the first assessment I was all charm. Now I am all sarcasm.
I enjoyed the random fight scenes. At least something happened. Also the collapsing in his arms was very dramatic.
I can see why Mame reused this pair for this show, because Peat is so good at being broken & fragile (see previous role).
But also… I feel like I’ve seen all of this before. Oh right, the psychotic breakdown scene in TharnType. The fragile broken uke from Love By Chance. The seme with a heart of gold and fists of steel from… all of them.
I find this exhausting.
Is anyone else exhausted?
They say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again (AKA watching Mame) and expecting a different result. I must be certifiably bonkers at this juncture.
Second half of this show I begin to wonder one thing. (Well my mind wanders a lot but this particular thought bubbled to the surface.)
Is this show actually an okay Thai BL?
Wait! Hear me out.
If this were ones first Meme, would it be… fine? In other words, if I didn’t have this storied (or lack of story, nash) history with her creative endeavors, would this bore me this much?
Is this actually just an average mildly enjoyable high-heat Thai BL to others, who are coming to her stuff for the first (or maybe the second) time?
Is it over-exposure or the has traumatized me in this way?
Am I corrupted through overindulgence?
Is this all my own fault?
Should I be taking a break from her? Should I not watch the next 3 productions that she does, and then return to her with fresh feelings of openness and amenable temper?
Is it me who is the problem?
Yet the act of asking that last question makes me feel like I’m in the same kind of abusive relationship with Mame that Rak was with his father.
Then I feel like I need to drink more. Or see a therapist.
So that’s enough philosophy for one evening.
And then, at the very very end A THRILL DESCENDED UPON ME.
Watching the stinger for next weekI was all…
Is this a 10 epper? Oh my God it is! Fantastic. Next week is the last one! I SEE THE LIGHT.
Episode 10 - The Lingering Scent of Disappointment
Today I am drinking a soju cocktail. Which I can highly recommend. If you're a lightweight but you like vodka, Fresh Soju is actually a pretty decent substitute with a lower alcohol content.
This has been your bartender lesson for today, moving on.
Wait.
If the Maa could’ve fixed this all along by throwing the Dad in jail, why didn’t she? Why did she put her kids through all of this bullshit with stalking and abuse? Also the mom character was basically a deus ex machina, except she didn’t even happen on screen. It was action taken to solve what little plot there was... entirely off screen. How weird. I don’t even have a term for that. Bad writing? Recon explanation? Of screen resolution?
OK, Fort is acting so well in the breakup scene. I adore that “how much do I need to pay you to fall in love with me” parrots the original “how much do I need to pay you to sleep with me”. I must give props for that level of emotional manipulation in a romance drama of this type.
That said, I feel for Rak, it’s rough to learn that someone else is playing a long game with feelings while you were playing a short game with d**k.
Meanwhile... I have run out of alcohol and I am now eating brownie bites. Because life (and d**k) is too short and so is my patience.
Why is that tattoo so absolutely terribly obviously fake?
Someone take tattoos and wigs away from Thailand. Just strip them out of all wardrobe departments in the entire Thai film industry. Clearly they can’t handle that level of POWER. It’s giving me trauma.
I do like that the solution to the drama of the break up was an actual sincere and abject apology. Very mature and grown up of you Mame.
I wish they’d woven the number 8 throughout more of the show, like into the pattern of Rak’s shirts and maybe an earring or cuff.
Did they entirely forget about the GL side not-plot? Or is it just me not paying attention because I’m distracted by brownie bites?
Regardless, I genuinely let out the biggest yawn during the very ending scene. It’s nowhere near my bedtime.
And… that’s it I guess.
I’m going on the record at this point. I don’t think I can do a trash watch of Mame again. It’s exhausting. And also is it really worth my (or your) time? This screed was so lackluster.
Final thoughts?
This is probably a solid 8/10 show but I’m mad I wasn’t madder at it, and mad I was so bored throughout.
So It gets a 7/10 and let us not speak of this again. I’d like to simply forget about it.
Conclusion? I’m left residually upset that FortPeat and all their talents are wasted on Mame. That seems unfair to them. And to us, quite frankly.
************************************
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Cupid Clarkey | Chris Dixon
Summary: George Clarke plays matchmaker for his best friend and his flatmate.
Pairing: ChrisMD x f!Reader, Best Friend!George Clarke
Warning: Fluff
Word count: 9.3k+
A/N: Thanks anon for this request! The timeline in the fic sorta jumps forward quickly (just don't think about it too much😗 ). This is my longest fic ever and I would really appreciate feedback on it!
Hope you enjoy it!
Masterlist
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
“Can you get off my Hinge already, Y/N?” George's annoyed voice cut through the blaring music of the pub as he tried (and failed) to snatch his phone out of your hand.
“I'm trying to find you a girlfriend, Georgie,” you retorted, laughing as you dodged his attempts.
You were currently squished into a booth in the pub, sitting next to George, both of you a few drinks in (though you were definitely more drunk than him), swiping away on his Hinge profile and bickering like you two used to back in uni.
Having just moved to London a few weeks ago, tonight was a reunion of sorts. You were meeting up with George and a bunch of other friends from your uni days.
You and him had met in the first week of school, initially sitting next to each other in class, which turned into late-night study sessions and eventually blossomed into a close friendship.
George rolled his eyes. “Oh please, like you’re any better at this than I am.”
“Better at what? Being single or being hopeless at dating?” you shot back, smirking.
“How long has it been since your last relationship?” George challenged, raising an eyebrow at you.
You scoffed and looked back at him. “And how long has it been since you’ve been laid?” you teased, swiping left on yet another profile.
“Oh, trust me, Y/N, I get action,” George shot back, a smirk playing on his lips.
“Oh please, the only action you’ve seen is from your right hand,” you said, laughing at him.
“Well, that’s a lot coming from you,” George countered. “You haven’t dated since that prick from uni.”
“I actually enjoy being single,” you said, shrugging. “All you do is cry about it. You always say you want a girlfriend, but you turn down every girl that approaches you.”
George snorted. “Say that to the pint of ice cream you finished last week in under an hour while watching that chick movie and bawling your eyes out about wanting a boyfriend.”
“Whatever,” you huffed, turning back to his phone. “Oh, you got a match! I’m gonna message her.”
“Absolutely not!” George exclaimed, finally managing to pry his phone out of your hands. “Maybe if you were a little less picky, you wouldn’t be single.”
You looked at him in shock and surprise. “Really? You’re gonna talk to me about being picky?”
“You say that, but you’re the one with the mile-long checklist, not everyone can be as perfect as me, Y/N.” George retorted, shaking his head.
“If you’re so perfect, then maybe we should just date, Georgie,” you said jokingly, nudging him with your shoulder.
The both of you went silent for a moment, staring blankly at each other. Then, simultaneously, you shuddered at the thought. “No!” you both said in unison, laughing.
“God, that’d be like dating my sister,” George said, acting outwardly disgusted at your joke.
You stuck your tongue out at him, making a face.
You two continue your bickering, the atmosphere in the pub buzzing with laughter and chatter from your group of friends. After a while, your friends scatter around the pub, leaving just you and George in the booth. Just as you're deep in banter, an unfamiliar voice interrupts you two.
“Hey man,” a voice said, and you looked up to see a man with blonde curly hair approaching your booth. George got up to greet him, and from where you’re sitting, it’s very obvious that he was quite drunk himself.
"Chris, mate, how drunk are you already?" George asked, as if he had read your mind, with a chuckle, clapping Chris on the back.
Chris laughed, his grin widening. "Chip's pub golf videos always destroy me," he replied, his words slightly slurred as he swayed a little.
Chris glanced over at you, his eyes momentarily focusing as he took in your presence. "Hope I’m not interrupting," he said teasingly, turning back to George, flashing a mischievous grin.
George chuckled and shook his head. "Nah, mate, you're good. Go get yourself a drink and join us." Chris headed off to the bar, and George sat back down.
Chris returned with his drink and slid into the booth, his easy smile and sparkling eyes catching your attention.
“So, who’s your friend?” Chris asked, nodding towards you with a playful grin.
“Y/N, this is Chris, the flatmate,” George introduced, gesturing between the two of you. “Chris, this is Y/N, the best friend.”
“Hey, nice to meet you,” you greeted Chris warmly.
Chris grinned back at you. “George is wrong, you know. I’m the best friend.”
“No, you’re wrong. I've known him longer, so I am his only best friend,” you say, as you laugh at him.
“Don’t need to fight, guys,” George interjects, “There’s enough of me to go around.”
“That’s just not right,” Chris replies, ignoring George. “I live with him. Do you know how much shit I put up with? Surely that makes me his best friend.”
You chuckle, “Okay…but have you had him shotgun a can an hour before a final, puke all over your bed, and then have to clean it up and make sure he gets to campus in time?”
Chris grins, “Alright, but have you had to deal with his shit love life? Or lack thereof? And like have had to listen to him complain all the time.”
You exasperatedly add, “Yeah! Actually, I have,” you say, nodding at Chris.
You turn to George. “Honestly, George mate, you're a mess. I don’t even want to be your best friend anymore.”
Chris nods in agreement. “Yeah, man, you’re kind of a pain in the ass.”
George looks between the two of you, bewildered. “What the fuck is happening?”
You and Chris exchange a look. “Maybe we should become best friends and ditch George,” Chris suggests, winking at you.
“Guys, can we go back to both of you fighting over me?” George says, and you and Chris burst out laughing at him.
You find yourself feeling instantly drawn to Chris's charm. After a bit of small talk, you learn that Chris had been out for a shoot and decided to drop by the pub where George was once he finished. You had heard George talk about Chris before and all the antics they’d gotten up to, but you hadn’t paid much heed to it until now.
And as the night went on and you got increasingly drunker, you found yourself sitting closer to Chris. George already knew this about you; you always got increasingly flirty and bolder when you were drunk—a stark contrast to your sober self.
Usually, George was always one of your victims, jokingly hitting on him to piss him off, and he also always had to keep you away from creepy men when you were drunk. But now, with Chris in the mix, George honestly did not know what to say at the scene in front of him.
(A/N: I have no game whatsoever. Even if I did pull in the past, I was so drunk that I genuinely don’t remember. I did my best I promise)
“You’re pretty cute for someone who’s friends with George,” you say to Chris, a playful smile on your lips as you take another sip of your cocktail.
Chris grins and leans in closer. “And you’re pretty hot for someone who hangs out with him.”
You laugh, inching closer to him and playfully touching his bicep. "I know, I'm just naturally irresistible," you tease, giving him a sly look that hints at something more.
Chris chuckles, his eyes twinkling. “Well, I believe it. If you weren’t George’s friend, I’d have made a move on you the second I walked in.”
You raise an eyebrow, leaning in so your lips are just inches from his ear. “Who says you can’t make a move now?” you whisper, your breath warm against his skin. “Who knows, tonight might be your night.”
Chris’s breath hitches, his gaze darkening. “Is that so?”
George groans. “You two are disgusting. Chris, stop hitting on her. Y/N get away from him!”
You brush off George, leaning even closer into Chris’s touch. “Ignore him, he’s no fun.”
Chris says, "He's just jealous that I’ve got the attention of someone this beautiful," he murmurs back, his lips brushing lightly against your earlobe, his voice low and you hear George scoff in the back.
George rolls his eyes dramatically. “I can’t take any more of this. You two are unbearable.” He stands up, shaking his head. “I’m going to go close out our tab. You better be five feet apart when I get back.”
As George walks away, you and Chris are left alone, practically glued together at this point. “Looks like it’s just us now,” Chris murmurs, his hand migrating to your thigh, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.
You smile coyly, leaning closer to him. “And what do you plan to do now that it’s just us?” you tease, your voice laced with playful anticipation.
Chris chuckles softly, his breath warm against your ear. “When George told me about you, he didn’t mention how incredibly sexy you are. If I had to be around someone as gorgeous as you, I wouldn’t be able to control myself.”
Your heart flutters at his words, and you feel a rush of desire. “Well, it looks like you’re doing a pretty good job of controlling yourself so far,” you reply, your fingers playing with the collar of his shirt.
Chris’s eyes darken with desire. “Who says I’m trying to control myself?” he murmurs, his lips hovering just above yours, lips so close that they are almost touching.
Before things could escalate further between you and Chris, George returned, breaking the intense moment. "Okay, I think it's time to get you two home," he announced.
Despite your protests, he manages to pull you off of Chris. As you stood up, the effects of the alcohol hit you, causing you to stumble. George quickly steadied you, his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you from falling over.
Realizing it was late and knowing you were in no state to go home alone, George insisted you crash at his place, which was closer than yours and the three of you hailed a cab back to the boy’s flat.
Once there, George quickly dumps Chris in his room, before he sets you up in his own bed. He offers you some of his clothes to change out of your outfit and he opts to sleep on the couch for the night.
As you drifted towards sleep, the alcohol slowly wearing off, you couldn't help but rethink the events of the night. All your actions start to blur now, though a wave of embarrassment washes over you. You knew there would be consequences to face in the morning, but for now your body needed sleep.
-------⋆✧⋆-------
The next morning, you wake up with a pounding headache, the hazy memories of the previous night lingering in your mind. As the realization of your interaction with Chris sets in, all you wanted to do was bury yourself six feet under.
You stumble out of George’s bed, groaning softly as your head throbs. Dressed in George's oversized clothes, you made your way to the kitchen, clutching your head, desperately in need of coffee.
As you enter, you freeze at the sight of Chris, who’s already there, shuffling around in the kitchen.
He’s dressed in grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt, his hair tousled and the hangover evident on his face. You catch a glimpse of his abs when he reaches up to a cupboard, and despite your headache, you can’t help but stare for a moment, your brain going to dangerous places.
Chris turns around and spots you, offering a weak smile. You look away slightly embarrassed, fearing that you were caught staring. “Morning,” he says, his voice hoarse as he clears his throat.
“Morning,” you reply, trying to muster a smile despite the awkward tension that has settled into the air.
There’s a long, uncomfortable silence as you both avoid each other’s eyes, the memory of your flirtatious behavior lingering between you. Chris pours himself a glass of water, and you take the opportunity to grab a mug for coffee, hoping the caffeine will help clear your head. “Do you want a cup as well?” you ask, trying to break the silence.
“Huh? No, thanks,” he responds, clearly drawing himself out of wherever he had zoned out to for a minute.
“So, uh,” Chris begins hesitantly, stopping for a moment when you both hear George stirring on the couch. Chris gestures toward the balcony, and you grab your coffee and follow him outside. Once you two are there, you lean against the railing, both of you awkward, neither knowing what to say.
Chris is the first to break the silence, rubbing the back of his neck. “…last night…was something...I guess we were pretty drunk.”
“Yeah,” you agree quickly, trying to downplay your embarrassment. “Pretty drunk.”
He chuckles nervously. “I don’t usually… you know, act like that.”
“Me neither,” you admit, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “It was just the alcohol, I guess.”
“Definitely,” he nods, relief evident in his expression. “We can just, uh, forget about it, right?”
“Absolutely,” you say a bit too quickly. But, you feel your heart drop a little, though you don’t know why. Him wanting to not acknowledge what happened yesterday (though it was nothing) makes you slightly upset, but you don’t let it show on your face. You bury your face in your coffee, avoiding his gaze.
It was insane how comfortable you two were around each other last night, and now the air was replaced with this heavy awkwardness that neither of you knew how to break. And the worst part is you couldn’t even remember all that you did yesterday (But you're sure George won't let you forget).
“So, um, any plans for today?” Chris asks, trying to make small talk and pulling you out of your thoughts.
“Um, what? No, nothing. Just gonna get back to my place and crash,” you say, shaking your head. “You?” you ask him.
“Same,” he says. You nod in response, but neither of you knows how to continue. You both stand there, sipping your drinks and stealing glances at each other, the awkwardness palpable.
“So I should go,” you say, trying to get out of that situation as quickly as possible. Chris just nods, and you step back into the apartment, making a beeline for George’s room, just wanting to get out of there and back to your own space as quickly as possible.
All you can think is, what the hell is wrong with you? You weren’t usually like this with people…what is happening?
-------⋆✧⋆-------
After that day, George teased you endlessly about what happened with Chris. Each time, you brushed him off, ignoring his jabs, saying you didn’t want to talk about it or that you didn’t remember what happened, unwilling to revisit the embarrassing memories of that night.
You’d run into Chris a few times when you were over at the flat with George, but those interactions weren’t any better. Your interactions with Chris went from awkward to him just plain ignoring your presence now, and you didn’t know what you did wrong. Combined with how embarrassed you still felt about your actions, you decided it was better to just ignore him as well.
George would drop you knowing looks whenever that happened, but when he saw that you really didn’t want to talk about it, he eventually dropped the topic.
Until today, that was.
“I’m not feeling up to it,” you tell George, speaking with him over the phone.
“Come on, it’ll be fun. Just a movie night with some friends,” George tries to persuade you.
“I don’t know, George. I’m just not in the mood,” you reply, feeling a mix of anxiety and reluctance.
George sighs, knowing exactly why you’re hesitant. “Look, I get that things are awkward between you and Chris. But avoiding each other isn’t going to make it any better. We’re all friends here. Just come over, watch a movie, and relax. You don’t have to talk to him if you don’t want to.”
You hesitate, biting your lip. “I just... I feel so embarrassed about everything. I don’t want to make things weird.”
“See, I don’t know exactly what’s going on with the both of you, but I can tell you’re overthinking it. Things are only as awkward as you make them. We’ll have a good time, I promise. And if it gets too much, you can always leave. Just give it a chance, yeah?”
You sigh, feeling the weight of his words. “You’re right. I’m just overthinking. It’s not a big deal. I’ll see you in a bit.”
“Great! I’ll see you soon,” George says, the excitement evident in his voice.
And that is how you found yourself sitting on the floor in George’s flat, leaning up against the couch with "The Hangover" playing on the TV.
You were bundled up in a blanket, surrounded by scattered cushions, with the smell of popcorn in the air. George was sitting on the couch just behind you, lazily flicking popcorn at your head, which you returned by swatting him on the knee.
“Seriously, George, you’re worse than a child,” you scolded, turning around to look at him as another popcorn kernel hit you on the forehead.
“Can’t help it,” he replied with a grin. You whacked him on the thigh this time, but he still threw another piece your way.
It was just George and the Arthurs for now. Despite your cold conversations with Chris, you couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit disappointed when George mentioned that Chris would be running late. Even with the weird energy between you two, you were kind of maybe hoping to see him today.
You were enjoying yourself, though. You’d met Arthur Hill a few times before and got along really well, and this was your first time meeting Mr. Television (as George liked to call him), and you were having a great time with the boys.
You pull your focus away from George and instead decide to just watch the movie when you hear the door open, and your eyes dart to the entrance. Chris walks in, dressed in dark cargos and a black sweatshirt, his curls messy from the day and it made him look a little rugged, and all you could think about was how good you thought he looked.
He swings his backpack onto the floor and starts taking off his coat, before he greeted everyone.
Your heart skips a beat at how effortlessly attractive he looked. Despite the cold vibes he had been giving you this whole time, you couldn’t deny your attraction towards him.
Outwardly, you were trying to be cool about it, but inwardly, you were itching to know why he was acting like this. You give him a tight-lipped smile as you make brief eye contact, but he quickly looks away, heading to his room.
George noticed the exchange and shook his head slightly. You shot him a look that said ‘stop it’, but you knew he’d bring this up later.
After a few minutes, Chris joins you all, settling on the floor next to you while the others remain on the couch. Other than the occasional instances where you pass him the popcorn, he avoids eye contact, but you can sometimes feel his gaze on you, especially when you and George bicker in loud whispers.
You reach for the coffee table, grabbing a can of seltzer, about to take a sip, only for George to snatch it out of your hand. “George!” you exclaim, swatting him on the arm before you wipe away the few drops of the drink that he managed to spill on your shirt.
You think you hear a chuckle from Chris, but when you turn to look in the direction of the sound, his eyes are glued to the TV.
After a bit, Chris gets up and heads to the kitchen. When he returns, he silently hands you a drink. You take it with a small, surprised smile, touched by the sweet gesture even if things between you two are still a little awkward. "Thanks," you murmur.
He nods in response, his genuine smile making your heart flutter before his eyes flick away from yours, and you feel yourself melt.
As the credits roll on the third film, George nudges you and suddenly pulls you into his room.
“What the fuck is going on with you and Chris?” George asks bluntly, shutting the door behind him.
You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “Honestly, I have no idea. After that day at the pub, it’s been so weird. I don’t even know the guy, and I feel like he hates me or something. Is he like this with everyone he just meets?”
George frowns, looking apologetic. “Not really… Normally, you can’t get him to shut up.”
“I get such cold vibes from him,” you admit, frustration seeping into your voice. “What did I do wrong?… Whatever, I don’t care, but its annoying.” You pause, then add with a small, reluctant smile, “It doesn’t help that every time I look at him, I drool.”
George responds, slightly shocked, “I—I’m sorry, what?”
You roll your eyes and say, “I’ve been single for so long that I’m even attracted to your shitty friend.”
George laughs, shaking his head. “He can get on your nerves, but he’s not that bad. But, he can be a little socially challenged around people he—”
George stops mid-sentence, seeming to have a moment of realization, his expression shifting. “Huh.”
“What? What’s wrong?” you ask, confused.
“Nothing, don’t worry about it,” he says quickly, disappearing out of the room before you can press further.
You stand there confused for a second before you return to the living room, where Arthur Hill and Arthur TV was tidying up. You decide to join them, looking around, wondering where George and Chris had suddenly disappeared to.
You help them gather the empty bottles and snack wrappers, making small talk. Just as you're finishing up, George and Chris reappear, both looking shady as hell, whispering to each other.
You look at George, giving him a pointed look. "What was that about?" you whisper, nodding toward Chris, who was leaning against the kitchen counter with the Arthurs, laughing about something.
George shrugs, trying to play it cool. "Nothing, just guy talk."
You give him a look. "Tell me."
"Really, it was nothing," he insists.
You roll your eyes, annoyed. "Fine, whatever, don’t tell me. I need to get home anyway, it’s getting late."
George quickly checks the time on his phone. "It’s almost midnight. Why don’t you just sleep here?"
"I just wanna be back in my own bed. At midnight is not that late, and I barely live like a 15 min walk away," you explain to him.
"You can just as easily walk home in the morning," he says.
Before you can protest, he continues, "You know what, fine. But I don’t want you going home alone." He turns toward the kitchen and shouts, "Chris! Do you mind driving Y/N back home? I would do it myself…but can’t drive mate."
Chris whips around, looking between the two of you, clearly flustered at George’s request. "Uh, sure, no problem."
You quickly interject, "It's okay, I can get home on my own. I don’t want to trouble you."
Chris clears his throat. "It's no trouble," he assures you, grabbing his keys. "Let's go."
You grab your stuff and walk out the door with him. The ride down in the elevator is silent. You play with your nails, trying to avoid his gaze, while he shifts uncomfortably beside you. When you reach the car, Chris opens the door for you, and you thank him. "Thanks, Chris."
"Don’t thank me yet," he jokes as you both buckle up. "I’ve only had my UK license for a month now, so we’ll see how this goes."
You look at him, slightly alarmed. "Seriously? Get me out of the car."
He laughs, and you join in. "I know how to drive, I just haven’t driven much since I moved to London."
Some of the tension eases, and you both relax a bit. He hands you his phone. "Can you enter your address into the GPS?"
You do, and as he starts driving Chris glances at you, "So, why did you move to London?"
You smile, happy to have a conversation starter. "Work, mostly. And also ‘cause I have friends here.”
He nods. “So, you liking London so far?”
You nod, looking at him as you speak. “Yeah, I like it. But the city gets overwhelming sometimes. Sometimes I just wanna run back home.”
Chris nods in agreement. “Same, especially when I miss my family. And I get it, sometimes you need to get away from George.”
You chuckle, wanting to keep the conversation going. “Be honest with me… how have you not killed him yet?”
He laughs, responding, “I won’t lie, I’ve plotted his murder many a times.”
You both laugh, and the conversation continues, light-hearted and easy. For the first time in like a month, the conversation between you two feels natural. And before you know it, you’d reached your apartment.
"Thanks for the ride, Chris," you say, unbuckling your seatbelt.
"No problem," he replies, his smile genuine. The air goes silent as you both stare at each other.
"Umm... goodnight," you say, quickly getting out of the car, feeling a tad bit awkward.
"Goodnight," he responds, and you gently close the door.
He waits until you're inside the building before driving off, and for the first time, you feel a warm, hopeful sensation in your chest and you can’t seem to wipe away the smile on your face the whole way up to your flat.
-------⋆✧⋆-------
The next day, you and George meet for dinner after you’re done with work. “I can’t believe he’s engaged”, you say as you move your food around on your plate, letting out a frustrated sigh.
“Why do you care?” George asks between bites of his burger. “You hated him by the end of your relationship.”
“I know, but why does someone like him get to be happy?” you sighed. “I’m just tired of being single. Why is it so hard to find someone half decent?”
“Maybe you’re looking in the wrong places,” George says, trying to sound all philosophical.
You raise an eyebrow. “What are you on about?”
He shrugs, laughing as he says, “Maybe you should date Chris.”
You almost choke on your drink. “Chris? Really? Chris? We can barely hold a conversation!”
George smirks. “Didn’t you say you guys got along fine last night? And don’t get me started on drinks last month. And don’t lie to me…you think he’s hot,” he says, making a fake gag face.
“What? No, I don’t,” you protest. “I might be desperate, George, but not desperate enough to date your friends.”
“What’s wrong with dating one of my friends?” George mocks hurt.
“I was kinda hoping that once I got a boyfriend, I just wouldn’t have to see you anymore,” you joke.
George clutches his chest dramatically. “Ouch!”
The drive with him the other day was fine, more than fine and he was kind of sweet actually. You laugh, but the thought of dating Chris stays on your mind, an idea that you might not be all that opposed to.
-------⋆✧⋆-------
A week had passed since your conversation with George, and despite trying not to let it affect you too much, you couldn't deny still feeling on cloud nine after that drive with Chris (even if it was barely 10 minutes long).
You and Chris were now following each other on social media. You'd occasionally chat or reply to each other's stories, gradually warming up to each other. You found yourself craving more time alone with him, curious about what it would be like to get to know him better.
But right now, you were looking forward to a quiet weekend in, finally getting to that book you had been putting off for weeks now. With a cozy blanket wrapped around you and a hot cup of tea, you settle onto your couch, eager to dive into your book.
Just as you start to get lost in the pages, a notification pops up on your screen. You peek over at your phone and see a text message from George.
George: Hello best friend
Y/N: What do you want?
George: Wow. Warm welcome
Y/N: Fine. Hiii Georgieeee….What do you want?
George: So you know how you are the smartest, strongest person I know 🥺
Y/N: Just spit it out 🙄
George: Can you please come over and help me build that dresser I ordered for my room?
Y/N: And there it is...
George: So..?
Y/N: No, don’t want to.
George: Pleaseeeeee….I’ll buy you food
Y/N: No
George: Come on, please 😩
Y/N: No….you’re gonna make me do all the work
George: I won’t...and I’ll throw in dessert
Y/N: You’re impossible
George: 👀
Y/N: Fine….See you in 10
George: 🫡🙇
With a sigh, you set your book aside and started getting ready to head over to George's place. Not bothering to change out of your comfy sweats, you threw on a jacket and made your way out.
When you arrived at George's flat, you knocked on the door and waited. To your surprise, Chris answered, looking equally surprised to see you. "Hey, Y/N. What are you doing here?"
“George asked me to come over, said he needed help building his dresser”, you explain, and Chris steps aside, letting you step inside.
Chris says, “Hmm, he asked me to help as well, after complaining for a straight 5 mins about not wanting to do it on his own.”
"That little bitch," you huffed, pulling out your phone from your pocket.
Y/N: Where the fuck are you!!???
George: Sorry emergency
Y/N: What?
George: Please help a guy out
Y/n: Why!? It’s your dresser!
George: Chris will help
Y/N: Wait
George: Bye
You breathed out in frustration, realizing all too well what George was trying to do. Deep down, though, you were somewhat glad to have some time alone with Chris. Fingers crossed you'd be able to hold a conversation today.
You huffed and shoved your phone in your pocket, then turned to face Chris. "Yep, he's ditched us, the bastard," you said, looking back up at Chris who was watching you with an amused expression.
Chris chuckled, and you felt a bit self-conscious. "What?"
"The Powerpuff Girls?" he asked, a small smile curling up on his lips.
"What? I'm here to build furniture, not walk a red carpet," you replied, glancing down at your pajamas, trying to appear nonchalant but secretly cursing yourself for not dressing better. Chris just laughed, shaking his head.
“Great…it’s just the two of us." you said, catching Chris's attention as he looked at the unpacked table pieces that George had left for you.
Chris raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on his lips. "You act like it's a bad thing."
You chuckled, picking up a screwdriver. "Let's just survive this project together first."
"Survive? Geez…It's just an Ikea dresser," Chris teased, walking towards the scattered pieces.
"Yeah, but have you ever tried assembling furniture with George? He pulls everything out of the box, doesn’t organize anything by the way, then he just gives up and leaves you to figure stuff out," you vented, holding up a loose screw you found on the floor a good distance from the table for emphasis.
Chris laughed, shaking his head. "Can't say that I have. Lucky for me you’re here to pick up the pieces," he joked lamely, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes, letting out a small laugh at his attempt.
"Let’s just build this stupid thing," you said, walking towards the mess.
Chris chuckled. "Yes, ma'am," he replied, looking around for the instruction manual.
Chris sighed in frustration, looking through the jumbled pieces. "Damn, where did George put those instructions?"
"Knowing George, he probably already threw out the instructions with the outer box," you said, half-jokingly. You fear you might be right, shuffling through everything and not finding the booklet.
You sit on the ground and try to organize the pieces, placing everything into neat piles. Chris picked up a piece and moved to place it in what he thought was the right pile.
"No, not that one," you said, pointing to a different pile. "Put that there."
Chris chuckled. "You're a little type A, aren't you?"
You grinned. "That's not the insult you think it is." You laughed lightly, enjoying the banter.
The two of you get on with trying to put the piece of furniture together.
Chris was completely engrossed in screwing in the legs, his brow furrowed in concentration. You couldn’t help but notice how his features hardened with determination, and you find him extremely attractive in this moment.
"You're really into this," you teased lightly, nudging him with your elbow as you passed him the next piece.
Chris glanced up, a playful glint in his eye. "Of course. Gotta impress you with my handyman skills."
You chuckled, kneeling down to align a set of screws. "Impress me, huh? Well, if you can get through this without instructions, color me impressed."
“Prepare to be amazed, Y/N,” Chris replied with a grin, returning to his task.
Your eyes involuntarily lingered on his arms, noticing how his t-shirt hugged his muscles snugly. You found yourself imagining running your hands across his arms and over his chest, remembering how you felt that night when inhibitions were lower.
Chris's voice snapped you out of your daze. "Sorry, what was that?" you asked, needing him to repeat his words.
"No, I was just…" Chris paused for a moment, sitting on the floor, pausing the task at hand. He hesitated as he looked up at you.
"Go on, what is it?" you encouraged him, curious about his question.
He started cautiously, "I've always wondered, why did you and George never date?"
You laughed softly, surprised by the question. “George? I don’t know, it’s just something that never happened. I don't even think either of us ever even considered our relationship to go that way”
Chris gives you a skeptical look, "Really? Not even once?"
"Not even once," you confirmed, shaking your head. "George and I have always been more like siblings."
Chris nodded softly, as if processing your answer. "Good to know."
Though slightly taken aback by his reaction, you chose not to dwell on it for too long.
“How did your shoot go this week?” you ask him.
Chris perks up a little, clearly pleased by your interest. "Oh, it was great! But it did go a lot longer than usual. I'll blame that on Arthur and his terrible football skills. But the audience will never find out. I should probably pay my editors more for making him look somewhat competent at football."
You both laugh, and Chris continues to talk about YouTube and some of his ideas. You can't help but smile at how passionate and happy he sounds when he talks about his work.
After a while, you two pull yourselves out of the conversation and get back to finishing the dresser.
"So, if you had to rate my IKEA furniture-building skills, what would you give me?" Chris asks, a playful grin on his face as the two of you now sit on the couch.
"Hmm," you ponder, pretending to be deep in thought. "Solid seven."
"Seven!?" Chris asks, feigning outrage, leaning in a little closer. "I thought I did pretty good."
"It would be higher, but you get distracted easily," you tell him, the space between you and Chris now barely a breath.
"Well, you were the one distracting me," Chris says, and you're taken aback by his comment. Your mouth falls slightly open, suddenly very aware of the proximity between you two.
Before you can respond, the door swings open, and George walks in, looking between the two of you with a mischievous grin. "Well, you two seem to be getting along well." You quickly get up from your place next to Chris.
You stare back blankly at George, arms crossed over your chest. "How was your... emergency?"
George's grin widens. "All sorted," he replies nonchalantly, before turning around to enter his room. "So which one of you is gonna help me move the dresser into my room?"
You and Chris exchange annoyed looks, then smile at each other, his smile exceedingly tugging at your heart, before you both scream, "Do it yourself!"
-------⋆✧⋆-------
Over the next few weeks, you and Chris had become friends, finding yourself spending time with him more often. You still couldn’t believe that just a few months ago you two couldn’t even look each other in the eye.
However, it seemed like every time you made plans with George or any of his friends, Chris was always there, and you two would magically end up alone together. You didn't think much of it, knowing that as much as you loved George, you hated him meddling in your love life, and he knew that as well. So, there’s no way he was involved, right? (Or maybe, deep down, you hoped that all the time you’ve been able to spend with Chris was somewhat of a sign and not your nosy best friend getting involved.)
You were at George’s place yet again (where else could you be? You only had like two friends) and helping him clean out his closet, stuffing his old clothes into donation boxes.
Slyly, you asked, “Where are the rest of your flatmates?”
George replied, “You know…they’re around,” without making eye contact, his back turned to you.
“And Chris?” you asked, slightly hopeful.
George looked up at you, almost as if he was wishing that you hadn’t asked that question.
You caught his expression, furrowing your eyebrows in worry. “What’s wrong?”
George placed the T-shirt he was folding gently into the box before turning to look at you. “Okay, so don’t get upset.”
“Why would I get upset?” you asked, a little concerned.
“Before I tell you, know that I told him not to do it,” George started.
“George... speak,” you demanded, poking him in the chest.
“Chris is out on a date,” he finally said.
You feel your heart plummet to the pit of your stomach, “Oh, good for him.”
George looked at you, clearly noticing your attempt to hide your disappointment. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be okay?” you said, trying to brush it off and distract yourself by placing more clothes into the box.
“Y/N, come on. You really don’t think I know you better than you know yourself?” he looked at you matter-of-factly and you were struggling to maintain eye contact with him.
“I’m fine, George,” you tell him, trying to get him to drop the topic, but he only looks at you like he doesn't believe you.
“Y/N. I know you like Chris”, he states and you feel your whole body freeze.
“What? No, I don’t,” you retorted, and honestly, even you couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth.
“Y/N—”
“George—”
“I see the way you look at him, Y/N, and when he speaks, you hang on his every word,” he interrupts you.
“George, no... Chris and I, we’re just barely friends,” you try to explain to him.
“I know you two had a rocky start, well, a drunk and touchy start,” he teased, dodging the T-shirt you threw at him, “but you’ve grown closer over the past few months and I think you’re just in denial about your feelings. Plus you look like you wanna jump him every time you look at him.”
You sat there on the edge of the bed for a minute, thinking about what George had said. Yes, things were a little iffy at the start, but you had grown to like his company. He was funny, quite sweet, and in recent times, easy to talk to. Not to mention, every time you looked at the man, it was like your brain short-circuited at how hot he looked.
George carefully considered his words before continuing. “You’ve always been like this, Y/N…cautious.”
As his words sank in, it dawned on you.
“Holy fuck, George! I like Chris,” you exclaimed, falling back onto the bed. “How did this happen? I feel like I’ve gone insane. When did I become so blind to my own feelings?”
George watched you in amusement, a small smile playing on his lips. “Took you long enough to admit it.”
“But–-,” you sat up, turning to George who was now sitting on the opposite corner of the bed, “there’s no way he likes me back.”
“Eh?” George responded, confused. “Why would you think that?”
“Because the guy is literally on a date right now,” you say, exasperated.
“So?”
“What do you mean, “So”? If he liked me even a little bit, he wouldn’t be going on dates,” you say, throwing your hands up in frustration.
“Probably because he doesn’t know you like him. Just tell the guy,” he suggests, his face soft, laced with concern.
“I can’t do that,” you look at him, your voice coming out almost broken.
“Why?” George comes to sit next to you, placing a comforting hand on your back.
You take a deep breath before you continue, “Because things just got somewhat good with him. We’re finally past that awkward phase and are friends now. I don’t want to go back to that cold phase when he ultimately rejects me.”
“He’s not gonna reject you, Y/N,” he says, throwing his arm around, pulling you into his side.
“How do you know?” you look up at him.
“For Christ’s sake, Y/N, just tell the guy how you feel.” he says, as he pulls away from you so that you’re both now facing each other.
“No, I can’t do that,” you said, getting up off his bed and heading out of his bedroom.
“What, Y/N! Where are you going?” he asked, following you.
“Home,” you said, making a beeline for the door.
“Why?"
“So that I can go to bed and wake up and forget about all of this,” you said looking back at him, hand now on the door knob.
“Y/N…”
“Bye, George,” you said, before opening the main door and closing it behind you, confusion and uncertainty swirling in your head.
-------⋆✧⋆-------
“Here,” Arthur Hill handed you a drink, and you threw him a quick thanks, quickly gulping down the liquid. Arthur looked at you, concerned. The party was lively around you, the usual chaos of a house party at George’s place.
George had convinced you to come to the party, saying it’d be a good distraction, to get your mind off of things—things being Chris.
George had promised you that Chris was busy tonight and wouldn’t be here, so you reluctantly agreed (though George had to beg a lot more than he was hoping he’d have to).
You had only arrived a few minutes ago, and you already wanted to leave. You just wanted the peace and quiet of your room to contemplate about your doomed love life and drown your sorrows in a pint of ice cream.
“You okay?” Arthur asked, pulling you out of your daze. “You look distracted.”
“Hmm? Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied with a half-hearted smile and you were grateful that Arthur didn’t push any further.
"I'm gonna get myself another drink," you said, and Arthur nodded in response before you navigated through the crowd toward the kitchen.
You made yourself a drink, pouring whatever bottle of alcohol was closest to your reach into your cup, wanting something strong. If you couldn’t drown yourself in ice cream, alcohol would have to do. (Not your smartest idea, but oh well.)
You took a sip of your concoction, the liquid burning as it flowed down your throat. You turned around but just as you were about to head back to find Arthur, when you spotted him. Chris.
He was the last person you wanted to see right now, but you couldn’t take your eyes off him. How did he manage to get even hotter than the last time you’d seen him? (Honestly, it was torture.)
But there he was, talking to some girl you’d never seen before. The sight felt like a punch in the stomach, knocking the air out of your lungs. All you wanted to do was leave. You placed your drink on the counter and set your sights straight at the door. In your haste, you didn’t pay much attention to your surroundings and bumped into someone. Looking up, you saw it was George.
"Whoa, where's the fire?" George asked, blocking your path.
"George, I need to leave," you said, trying to sidestep him.
“Why? What happened?” he asked, but before you could answer, he glanced over your shoulder and saw Chris. “Oh, I see.”
“Just talk to him, Y/N,” he tried to persuade you. “Whatever the outcome, it’ll make you feel better.”
“George, are you crazy? I can’t” You looked up at him, and the vulnerable look in your eyes made his heart break.
“Fine, but please don’t leave. Just take a breather for a minute. You should at least stay and enjoy the party,” he insisted. You opened your mouth to protest, but he cuts you off, “Just stay in my room for a bit. You can come back out after a while.”
You agreed, knowing he wouldn’t take no for an answer, and turned towards his room. “Good,” he said, pushing you gently by the shoulders.
Once you were in his room, you turned to look at him. “Now stay put, I’ll be right back.” You nodded, and he headed back out of the room.
You took a seat on his bed, and before you knew it, you heard the door open. Expecting to see George, you froze when you found Chris instead.
“George, what are you doing?” Chris protested as George pushed him into the room. “Stop, bro!”
You got up and shout, “George! What the hell?”
“You two talk,” George said, pointing at both of you before quickly shutting the door. You heard the lock click.
You rushed to the door, trying to turn the knob, but it wouldn’t budge. “Bastard locked us in,” you said to Chris.
“George! Let me out!” you protested, banging on the door.
“Not until you two talk to each other,” George yelled back.
You turned to find Chris looking just as surprised as you. “Well, this is awkward,” Chris said, rocking back and forth on his feet with his hands shoved into his pockets. “I might be wrong...but I think George wants us to talk.”
You sighed, leaning against the door. “Yeah, he’s a lot of things… but subtle, he is not.”
Chris chuckled. “What gave it away?”
Your suspicions were right. That motherfucker had been playing you this whole time, getting Chris to drive you home, finding ways to get the two of you to spend time alone, locking you in his room. And you’d walked right into it. Idiot.
“That slimy little shithole,” you muttered to yourself.
You laughed out loud. “So George seems to think we would make a good match.”
“What?” Chris said, looking nervous.
“Did you not realize?” You looked at Chris, and he was staring at you with an unrecognizable look on his face.
“Well…” he started sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. “I kind of knew.”
“What do you mean you knew, Chris?” you asked, confused.
“I mean, I knew George was trying to set us up, he sort of told me he would, that day that you were over at our place for movie night.” he admitted.
“I’m sorry…?” you ask him again, arms crossed.
You raised an eyebrow. “And you were okay with it? Why didn’t you say anything?”
Chris sighed. “I promise, I told him not to! And I just didn’t know how to bring it up..... But honestly, I didn’t mind. I liked spending time with you.”
You felt your heart skip a beat. “What? You liked spending time with me?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I’ve kind of liked you since the day we first met in the pub.”
“But that was months ago,” you said, incredulous. “Why didn't you say anything till now?”
He sighed, looking down for a moment before meeting your eyes. “I don’t know. All I know is that every time I look at you, it’s like the words leave my mouth. Of course, I wanted to talk to you after that night, but I didn’t know what came over me every time. You’re literally the most gorgeous woman I’d ever laid my eyes on, and each time I wanted to ask you out, I’d choke up.”
“But what about that date?” you asked, trying to process everything. “If you liked me so much, then why did you go on a date?”
Chris looked a little guilty. “George told you about that?” You nodded before he continued, “You can’t blame a guy for trying to move on, especially when a girl like you couldn’t possibly like me back,” he said softly.
You shook your head. “Chris, I… I’ve liked you too. I think I’ve liked you the whole time. But I didn’t think you did, especially after how everything was after we got drunk that night.”
Chris stepped closer, hope in his eyes. “You like me too?” he asked again, making sure he wasn’t wrong about what he heard.
“Yes, Chris, I like you too,” you responded.
“So we’re both hopeless in the love department?” he asked.
“Yep, looks like it,” you said, laughing. “So hopeless that we needed Cupid Clarkey to get us to finally admit our feelings.”
You both stared at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter.
Chris stopped to look at you, stepping even closer. “God, I love your laugh,” he said softly, and you looked at him shyly.
“And you have the most amazing eyes I’ve ever seen,” you stepped closer as well and he flashes that gorgeous smile of his, the kind that gets your stomach in knots.
He said, “You know, I regret nothing from that night.”
You replied teasingly, “Really?”
He nodded, “Well, there’s only one thing I regret.”
You asked, “And what’s that?”
He said, “That I didn’t get to kiss you,” as he tucked a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, his eyes go dark and intense, piercing into your soul.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” you whispered, and with that, Chris crashed his lips onto yours.
The kiss was everything you’d dreamed of and more. His arm snaked around your waist, pulling you closer, while your arms made their way around his neck and your hand tangling into those perfect curls of his, tugging slightly, earning a groan from him.
The kiss was filled with so much emotion, both of you pouring everything into it—all the pent-up feelings from the past months. It was intense, and full of passion and tenderness, leaving you breathless. You could feel his heart pounding in sync with yours, the heat between you two electrifying. It was as if the world had melted away, and there was nothing but this moment.
Chris pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he whispered.
You smiled, feeling the warmth of his breath against your lips. “Me too.”
Before either of you could say anything else, you heard a slight thud outside the door. Chris gave you a knowing look, and you raised your voice intentionally louder. “Well, George’s bed looks nice doesn’t it? I think he just put new sheets on.”
Chris chimes up, “Maybe we should use it. We’re locked in here anyways. Might as well make the most of our time.”
Immediately, you heard George unlocking the door, bursting into the room. “Okay, get out, both of you. I don’t want you two fucking on my bed.”
You and Chris burst into laughter. Chris scooped you up playfully and ran off to his bedroom, shutting the door behind you two.
Once you were in his room, he slowly placed you on the ground, then pulled you onto his lap as he sat at the edge of the bed.
“So... I think I should ask you properly,” he said, looking up at you.
Chris leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. “Now that you know how I feel about you, what do you say we give this a shot? Will you go out with me?”
You nodded, heart pounding in your chest. “I’d like that, Chris.” and he flashed you a smile.
“We really should be thanking George,” he said.
“Yeah, normally I hate him meddling, but this time I don’t mind. But please don't tell him that, or I'll never here the end of it,” you said as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
Chris grinned. Forget about it then, I just want to kiss you again.”
You laughed, and with that, you closed the distance again, letting yourself melt into his touch. The feeling of his soft lips sent a shiver down your spine.
This moment felt perfect, like you fit together in a way that was always meant to be. His arms wrapped around you securely, pulling you closer, and you could feel the steady beat of his heart against yours. You hated to admit it, but George playing cupid had turned out to be the best thing that could have happened to you and Chris.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Bonus Fun Facts (cannon to this AU):
- George did find your drunk closeness to Chris disgusting, but he didn't really care if you snogged his friend or not. He pulled you off of Chris more out of fear of what you would do to him if he let you make any drunken mistakes while he was around.
- During your conversation after movie night, George realized that Chris had a crush on you.
- He and Chris disappeared off onto the balcony and he managed to get Chris to fess up that he was in fact into you.
- George said he'd gladly meddle. Chris told him not to meddle. George meddled.
- He knew you two hopeless idiots would not give each other a chance without a gentle push in the right direction.
- George did in fact tell Chris not to go on the date, bringing up his crush on you.
- Chris said that he was sure that there was no way you liked him and that you had not shown any interest in him. He did not want to make you uncomfortable by making a move on you so he decided to try and forget about his crush.
- Could George just have told you that Chris liked you...yes? But did he instead choose to play cupid for his own amusement, of course he did.
- Plus you hadn't explicitly told him that you liked Chris and he didn't want to dump that news on you. But then he realized that you were too thick when it came to your own feelings..so he did just dump it on you.
- George realized he had to kick his matchmaking skills up to a 100 (and yes his best idea was locking you to in a room).
- Of course he eavesdropped, and the next morning he did in fact not let you hear the end of it.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
A/N: Thanks for reading guys! I'm trying to get through all my pending requests now that I'm back.
Also tell me if you liked the bonus facts in the end. I realized that there were things I wanted to include that I didn't want to put into the main fic, so I just threw them in at the end. I personally like it, so I think I'm going to start throwing them into my fics from now on.
Check out my other fics and oneshots here.
Not working on any new requests currently but feel free to drop into my asks for a chat! 😊
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