So, Uh... Hi👋

“Hi again,” he said with a smile, “I hope your meeting went well!”

“It did, thank you.”He started walking towards the rest of the bullpen and you fell in time with his pace. “Here’s the editing bay, and the kitchen, which is obviously the most important part, and then we have this weird crawl space back here whi-” Damien is abruptly cut off by a crash and someone yelling “FUCK” followed by raucous laughter. He sighed overdramatically, “And that would be our dear Angela and Chanse. I’m sure that everything is fine?” Loud bickering starts up in the background of him talking, “Maybe? Probably.” A short girl runs by the kitchen with a large purple dinosaur tucked under her arm, chased by a taller man. However, he skids to a stop right in front of the kitchen door. 

“Ange! The new girl is here! The animal one! And she’s hot!” 

Angela comes sprinting back towards you. “Oh my god Chanse you can’t call her that! That’s so rude.” 

You blush and giggle a little. “No, animal girl seems about right, all my friends called me that in college after all.” You wink at Angela, “Plus I am kinda the one who’s here to be science-y and all that.” 

Angela jokes. “I didn’t know we did science here. Who knows stuff about science? That’s like, totally off brand for us.”

“Well apparently someone doesn’t know animals so, enter me I guess?” 

Chanse started to cackle and Angela’s jaw dropped. “She’s good, I love her already!”

Damien looked at you curiously. “You know, I never actually asked what you signed up to do here.” 

“Oh, a little bit of this and a little bit of that, y’know, normal stuff, science stuff, comedy stuff.” 

Before he can reply, Chanse grabs your hand and pulls you off, exclaiming something about making sure your desk is next to his since you clearly have the same passion for bullying as him. You turn your head and wave shyly to Damien as you’re dragged off. Angela follows close behind, but not before whacking Damien with the long forgotten dinosaur plushie.

“Get it together dude, you’re staring.”

“Shut up dork.”

--------------------

Angela plops down in her chair. “So they really hired someone to teach me about animals huh.”

“Well I think it’s more for comedic value than anything really, and it allows me to have a little bit of an “educational platform” per se.”

Chanse butts in, “I would not call Smosh educational, but it would certainly be a platform for sure.” 

“I spent a lot of my life telling kindergarteners to pet animals at the zoo with two fingers when they were allowed to touch the animals, and a lot more of my life telling them not to put their hand into the habitat, I’m just thankful to be listened to to be honest with you.” You could see them starting to frown. “Ian hired me short-term to see if having someone with a different perspective could round out some sketches and video ideas, but I’ll be honest, I’m having major imposter syndrome right now.”

Chanse put his hand on your shoulder, “Well we’ll be here as your emotional support clowns, and you haven’t even moved into your new desk yet!” 

You looked at your empty desk, realizing that all of your things were still packed in boxes in your new apartment. “I’ve barely even moved into my own apartment, dude. I tried to do it this weekend, but moving solo really takes it out of you.”

Angela wiggled her eyebrows and bumped your shoulder, “Solo, huh? No special someone in your life?”

You glared at her, “That’s a bold question coming from someone who did a video where her friends helped set up her Hinge profile.”

“Hey! Dating online is hard!”

The three of you burst into laughter, tears streaming from your eyes. 

A voice comes from behind you, “Dude, someone wheezes when they laugh here and it's not Shayne?” You can barely see who it is through your misty eyes, but as you wipe them you realize it’s Damien, with Shayne standing to his left. 

You’re still laughing a bit as you say, “Sorry, sorry, one minute please,” while you take a second to compose yourself. “Hi, I’m Y/N, the new Science Coordinator, it’s nice to meet you!”

Shayne says tentatively, “Science coordinator?”

“I’m here to fact check things and teach people science stuff for content,” you say, putting big air quotes around content. “We’re gonna see how it works out, I also work at the Los Angeles Zoo, so I’m okay with it just being temporary for now. I probably will only be here once or twice a week to balance both this and my zookeeper job.”

Damien furrows his brow, “The zoo is like a 40 minute drive from here, that commute must be killer.”

“Oh! I was just telling them that I moved into a new apartment. It splits the difference between here and the zoo, but I was looking for a new place with cheaper rent and a less shitty landlord.”

Angela jumps in, “Y/N was just saying how she’s barely moved in yet, and I was just about to offer because we’re best friends now!”

“Yeah!” Said Chanse, “We’re gonna crash her place and threaten her with our amazing interior design knowledge.” 

You rubbed the back of your neck, “I mean, I don’t mean to impose, but it’s the more the merrier if you guys want to help, but I will warn you, I do have a pet snake, and she can kinda freak people out.” 

Damien perked up, “You have a snake?” 

“Yeah, I do! She’s a Kenyan Sand Boa, and her name is Artemis. I’ve had her for about 3 years now? Someone abandoned her at the zoo and we didn’t have anywhere to put her in the reptile exhibit, so once we examined her for diseases and injuries, I adopted her.”

“That’s sick! I’ll be there!”

As you looked at Shayne for an answer, he shook his head. “Sorry dude, I bet she’s nice, I just do not love reptiles after living in Arizona for so long.”

You shrugged, “That’s fair! I’ll let you guys know when you can come over, does sometime this weekend work?” 

Angela grabbed your phone out of your hand, “I’m making a group chat right now. We’re about to rock your world.” 

Damien shook his head, “We’ll at least bring takeout so we don’t rock your fridge too.” You beamed up at him, thankful for an excuse not to have to cook this weekend and looking forward to having your new coworkers in your apartment. As you looked up at him, he smiled back and you watched as the cutest dimple formed on his right cheek. Angela caught your eye in your peripheral and wiggled her eyebrows again. 

You were so incredibly fucked.

------------

—

cross-posted on AO3 if you prefer that format!

Chapter One: Never Have I Ever

── .✦Maybe you should’ve put that finger down.

Chapter Two: Journey VS Destination

── .✦Breaking it down with the Monarch of Spicy Ramen.

Chapter Three: We’re Not Usual

── .✦Camp Rock 2 changes everything.

Chapter Four: Wouldn’t Change A Thing

── .✦Karaoke night puts you under the spotlight.

Chapter Five: Truth or Dare

── .✦Dare all the way, baby!

Chapter Six: The Talk

── .✦What are we?

Chapter Seven: Girlfriend Privileges (Epilogue I)

── .✦Time skip. Record scratch. Yeah, that’s me.

Chapter Eight: Friends To Lovers (Epilogue II)

── .✦Welcome to Smosh Mouth, I’m Shayne!

—

weekly updates! smash that like button, subscribe, and don’t forget to hit that bell!

That's new, you thought to yourself. Those words hadn’t been in any of the previous takes —you would know. Because you wrote the script.

Beyond you there was a loud call of "CUT" and you and Damien broke away from each other.

The lights had barely cooled before the crew started packing up. Cameras off. Ladders clanked. Everyone laughed it off like any other sketch—but your brain couldn’t stop replaying that line.

He had to know what he was doing. Had to feel the same pull you did when he leaned just a little too close during rehearsals. When he remembered your coffee order without asking. When his hand lingered on your back a beat too long during blocking.

But he hadn’t said anything since the take. No jokes. No debrief. Not even a casual “good job today.”

So you wandered to the props room, telling yourself you needed to return the fake roses—but really, you just needed space to breathe.

The air inside was stale with fabric softener and old Halloween wigs. You stood in the dim light, staring blankly at a plastic bouquet in your hands like it held the answers.

That’s when the door creaked open.

“Hey.”

You didn’t need to turn to know it was him.

“Thought you went home already,” you said, keeping your voice casual. You hated how breathless it came out.

“Yeah, well… couldn’t leave my dignity behind with the plastic sword and fake bouquet.”

A small laugh escaped you, despite the storm in your chest.

He stepped in, shutting the door behind him. Now you were alone, boxed in by old costumes, unspoken feelings, and the echo of a not-so-scripted line.

“You were really good today,” Damien said, quieter now.

“You too,” you replied, fingers still fiddling with the bouquet. “You always are.”

He hesitated. You could feel it. The way the air tensed between sentences, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite push it out.

You turned to face him slowly. Your heart thudded against your ribs.

“Was it just acting?” you asked, voice soft but steady. “What you said during the scene?”

He blinked. The question landed with force. You watched it hit him.

“Which part?” he asked.

“The part where you said…” You took a breath. “You make me feel like I’m not pretending when I’m with you.”

There was a pause. A long one. One that stretched thin like glass. “It wasn’t in the script,” he finally said.

You stared at him. “I know,” you replied

He scratched the back of his neck, eyes darting to the floor, the ceiling, anywhere but yours.

“I shouldn’t have said it,” he muttered. “Not like that. Not when everyone was there.”

“Then why did you?” you cut in, stepping closer.

His eyes finally met yours. Warm, wide, unsure.

“Because it’s true,” he waits for a reaction, trying to garner whether he should continue. “And I didn’t think I’d get the chance to say it for real.”

Silence cast over the two of you, one beat, two, then three. Just your heartbeat hammering in your ears and Damien standing four feet away like he’d just set something fragile down between you.

“You’re an idiot,” you whispered.

He blinked rapidly, one of those cute blinks where his entire face seemed to scrunch in confusion. “What?” 

You sighed. “You didn’t need a script Damien, you could’ve just told me. Weeks ago. Months, even.”

He let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah, well. It’s easier to pretend when there’s a camera in front of me.”

“Then let’s stop pretending.” That hits him hard, it feels real. Raw.

He reached out and gently took the bouquet from your hand, setting it aside on a cluttered shelf of old wigs and rubber chickens. Now empty, his hand hovered mid-air like he didn’t know what to do with it now.

So you took it in yours.

Fingers laced, hesitantly at first—then tighter. Solid.

“I wasn’t acting either,” you said.

That’s all it took.

He kissed you like he’d been holding his breath for months—soft at first, then surging forward, hands cupping your face like you were something delicate he never thought he’d get to hold.

No lights. No audience. Just you and him. Off script. Exactly where you both wanted to be.

Moments pass like this, it feels like an eternity. You were so wrapped up in Damien’s hoodie and the warmth of his hands when the props room door creaked open again.

“Hey, have either of you—”  Shayne’s voice echoed through the room “OH. Oh my god.”

You and Damien sprang apart in an instant. You nearly tripped over a pile of pirate hats and Damien knocked over a stack of prop pizza boxes trying to straighten up.

Shayne stood frozen in the doorway, holding a mic pack in one hand and a deeply offended expression on his face.

“...Is this why the roses are missing?” he deadpanned.

“It’s not what it looks like!” Damien blurted, voice cracking just slightly. He wasn’t sure this was something you wanted people to know about just yet. It’s not like you’d had any time to define what this was. 

You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Really?” Shayne scoffed. “Because it kind of is exactly what it looks like.”

“Okay, fine,” Damien said, sheepish. “It’s mostly what it looks like.”

Shayne crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe like a judgmental sibling. “I leave for five minutes and suddenly it’s Smosh: After Dark.”

You groaned and dropped your face into your hands. “Can we please not make this a thing? It just… happened.”

“Mmm-hmm. Sure.” The blonde man turned to leave, calling over his shoulder. “I’m definitely not texting the group chat about this.”

“Shayne, I swear—”

But it was too late. You heard the unmistakable ding-ding-ding of notifications going off as he walked down the hall, already typing like a menace.

Damien sighed and looked at you, wincing apologetically. “That could’ve gone worse.” He admitted.

You snorted, already laughing despite yourself. “Yeah? How?”

“Shayne could’ve taken a picture.”

Your phones buzzed simultaneously.  [📸: “caught in 4K”] [Message from Shayne: “At least pretend you’re not in love during work hours???”]

You looked at each other—slightly overwhelmed but laughed nonetheless.

Damien reached for your hand again, unbothered now. “Guess we’re not really off script anymore, huh?”

“Nope. But hey—maybe this version’s even better.”

And this time, you kissed him again on purpose—with the door locked.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Bonus:

The next morning you arrived on set to find hell waiting for you in the office kitchen.

Someone—and by someone, you meant Shayne—had printed out a screenshot of the blurry caught in 4K photo and taped it to the fridge.

Written in red Sharpie beneath it: “Smosh’s Cutest Couple (We’re All Disgusted)”

Courtney was already there with coffee and a grin the size of Jupiter. She leaned against the counter, an air of smugness radiating from her.

“So… How long have you and Damien been sneaking off into tiny rooms to make out?” she asked, handing you a mug labeled with Shayne’s face as the Chosen on it. You could almost hear his mocking voice in your mind.

You groaned. “Can I get, like, one day of peace?”

“Absolutely not,” Courtney beamed. “This is the most romantic thing to happen here since Angela tried to serenade a toaster for a sketch.”

You barely had time to respond before Ian walked in, took one look at the photo, and sighed like a disappointed—but secretly proud—dad.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “So... this is finally happening. You two finally confessed?”

“Wait, you knew?” you asked. Ian had always been aloof around the office. You never thought he paid enough attention to know anything about your feelings for Damien.

“I didn’t know, but I had a strong suspicion after the sketch last night when Damien improvised that line and then stared at you like you were the last cupcake at Crafty.”

You stared at him.

“...That is shockingly specific.”

“I have eyes. Also, Damien asked me if it would be ‘unprofessional’ to fall for your co-star. So.”

“IAN—”

“It was cute,” he shrugged. “Very theatre camp energy. I support it.”

Right on cue, Damien walked into the kitchen. He froze mid-step as all heads turned toward him like a sitcom audience waiting for his punchline.

“Oh my god,” he muttered. “Shayne, did you seriously—?”

“Hard launch, baby,” Shayne declared proudly from across the room, holding up a bagel like a trophy. “You’re public now. I’m your manager.”

“You’re fired.”

“Can’t fire me. I’ve already booked you two for a fake couple’s therapy sketch next month.”

Damien turned to you, totally red, totally flustered—and smiling anyway.

“You okay?” he murmured, just for you.

“Yeah,” you said, bumping his arm with yours. “Kind of loving it, actually.”

Just then Angela popped her head in. “SOMEONE TELL ME WHO WON THE WILL-THEY-WON’T-THEY BET—”

Courtney grinned “ME. Obviously.”

 Ian rebutted, “Technically, I said they'd be official before the next Try Not to Laugh, so I get partial credit.”

“I said there would be confessions via interpretive dance. So I think I win emotionally.” Shayne decided.

You and Damien exchanged a look. He reached down, gently laced his fingers with yours, and squeezed.

“Might as well lean into it,” he whispered. “We’re officially the bit now.”

Long shoot blocks, you’d learned, usually devolved into long nights out. The cast and crew—or, at least, those of whom had the time and the desire to let loose—often found themselves in bars with high ceilings, with music playing too loud, and drinks that were just strong enough. There were nights when you lost Arasha and Amanda to the grimy dancefloor as soon as you passed the threshold, and nights when you watched from afar as Chanse cozied up to a beautiful stranger.

You liked listening to your friends talk and laugh as if you weren’t all exhausted after the grueling work week.

You liked feeling like part of something.

Some nights, though, when Shayne and Spencer got tired of hugging the wall, and when you’d all realized how expensive it was to go out as often as you did, someone would offer their house as a respite from the outside world. It was a chance to avoid prying eyes and the same top 40 hits that seemed to play at every bar.

Now, you found yourself at Damien’s house; someone had dimmed the lights, and from your spot on the couch you could hear glasses clinking in the kitchen as Tommy poured various liquids into a makeshift mixer. Your friends held mugs of alcohol, pretending to be above the culture of red solo cups.

You watched Amanda and Angela play a card game you didn’t know on the coffee table in front of you.

“Your pile is huge—your pile is huge, oh my god!” Amanda’s voice carried over the other noises around you. You leaned against Angela’s shoulder.

“Because you’re playing wrong! You’re cheating! You’re literally cheating and it’s so uncool.” Angela tried to grab Amanda’s cards, and you smiled at their back and forth. You were admittedly distracted, but trying to play it cool, pretending your mind wasn’t elsewhere as Angela jostled your head.

You watched Damien out of the corner of your eye. He stood across the room, toying with one of his rings, nodding along to something Alex was saying.

You tried not to stare, but there was something so attractive about the way he looked in a space all his own; he didn’t command attention—Damien hated being the center of attention, especially when it was easily avoidable—but he had a way about him tonight that just seemed so relaxed, and it was hard to ignore. Especially when he was already taking up most of your thoughts as it was.

For as long as you’d worked with Damien, he was someone you looked forward to seeing. He wasn’t the only reason you got out of bed, but he was certainly up there on the list. Thoughtful, considerate; he was a generally good-natured person. He made the days go faster, making jokes and ensuring you felt included as a newer member of the cast.

And you liked his laugh, and the way he listened, and the soft color of his hazel eyes that looked somewhere close to green in the light.

It was no secret that you found him alluring, but you felt that it was better to keep those thoughts out of his orbit. If not for your sake, for his. It just seemed unfair to come onto him after you’d spent so much time together as friends, especially when he had given you no reason to think that he felt anything for you beyond camraderie.

You sat up from your position on Angela's shoulder, moving your head to get a better look at Damien. He noticed, shooting you a smile. You reciprocated it, offering a small wave, keeping your elbow low and fingers folded near your palm. He waved back, and you both quickly returned to your respective conversations.

Amanda and Angela had gone back to playing their game, light-hearted fighting words replaced by laughs as they smacked cards down.

There was a tap on your shoulder, and Courtney pulled you up from the couch.

“Come to the bathroom with me.” She set a cup of something that smelled strong on the table.

The rules of the bar still applied to house parties, and you had no problem tagging along on trips to the bathroom, sitting pretty while your friends fixed whatever makeup was still left of that morning’s full beat. You followed Courtney down the hallway and into the bathroom.

“You’re bright red, you know,” They wasted no time in grilling you, running the water and dabbing it under their eyes to wipe away streaks of mascara that had rubbed off.

“I had a Tommy special.” You sat on the edge of the bathtub.

“That’s not—you can handle your liquor.” Courtney turned, combing through their hair with her fingers, “You’re not blushing just because Tommy gave you one vodka cran.”

“It wasn’t a vodka cran. It was a vodka soda.” You could tell where the conversation was headed, and you tried to veer it off track.

“You’re not as slick as you think you are.” Courtney raised a brow.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. He hasn’t even spoken to me tonight.” You contradicted yourself, markedly aware of what she was referring to and feeding into the topic, but disputing what you could.

“You’re oblivious.” Courtney laughed, fishing lip gloss from her pocket and turning back to the mirror.

“What do you mean?” You stood behind them, watching her reapply the color to their lips.

“Have you ever noticed,” Courtney popped her lips together, spreading the gloss, “That Damien only ever offers to host when he knows you’re going to come?” She turned to you again, leaning back, elbows on the sink. “Almost like he just wants an excuse to have you over.”

“He doesn’t do that. Damien is always offering to host. Doesn’t matter if I’m here or not.” You retorted.

“Not true,” they shook their head, “On days that you're not around and we don’t feel like going to the bar, Tommy always hosts. Or Amanda. Or Ian.”

“Tommy has more alcohol at his place.” You ignored the rest of the list, still trying to change the subject.

“Dude,” Courtney was laughing now, “It’s like you don’t want to see it.”

“See what?” Your ears began to feel hot.

“That he likes you as much as you like him.” The words had a tone of finality. “Why are you so nervous?”

“Bec—are you serious? Why wouldn’t I be nervous? Why would I run the risk of ruining a perfectly good friendship? Or, you know, whatever it is—however you might describe what it is!” You started to ramble, digging yourself into a hole, “What happens if something happens and then—it could ruin work, Court. It could ruin everything!” You suddenly became aware that you were whisper-yelling. You cleared your throat, returning to a normal tone of voice. “It could ruin everything. That’s why people don’t fuck their coworkers.”

Courtney said nothing, just held up their hand and made a point of showing you the wedding band around their ring finger. She cleared her throat.

“That’s different.” You tried to backpedal.

“How?” Courtney looked amused, eager to hear your half-baked reasoning.

“Cause of course that worked out. Look at how Shayne looks at you. Look at how obvious of a pairing you two are.”

“Same way Damien looks at you.” Courtney smirked.

“You’re reading into this more than I am.” You shook your head at them. “He would’ve made a point to do something by now.”

“Are we…talking about the same Damien?” Courtney laughed, and you responded with a tight-lipped scowl. “In what world would he ever make a first move?”

“The ideal one. Where everything goes my way.” You scoffed, folding your arms.

“Right,” Courtney put a hand on your waist, and you looked at each other. “Approach this with more confidence, is all I’m saying. Give yourself—give him—the opportunity to make something happen.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, unfolding your arms and rubbing the bridge of your nose. “Yeah, no, you’re right.” She gave you a cocky look, and you slapped their arm gently, “Don’t rub it in.”

“You’re hot,” Courtney rubbed her thumb over the exposed skin of your waist, “And sweet. You deserve the world. And I love the both of you more than words, but you act like you’ve never had a crush before.”

“Not like this.” You admitted, and they smiled.

“I know. But you have nothing to lose.” They looked around as if they were afraid someone might be listening from behind the shower curtain, “I have it on good authority that he feels just as strongly about this thing—” she gesticulated vaguely, “as you do.” She smiled, turning to open the door. You grabbed her by the arm.

“What did Shayne tell you—what did Damien tell Shayne?” You tried to pull them back as they turned the door handle, but she wiggled from your grasp.

“You didn’t hear it from me!” She called back to you, leaving you alone in the bathroom to ruminate on the conversation. 

~~~

It was still early when people started to trickle out. You knew when Shayne and Courtney left that the party was over.

“Do you guys need a ride?” You sidled up to Courtney where she stood in the foyer with Shayne, “I don’t mind driving you home. I’m sober. Stone cold.”

“Oh my god—Steve Austin, I love your work!” Spencer called over to you while he herded a cheerfully inebriated Tommy through the door. Shayne let out a quick, barking laugh.

“No, don’t worry about it. We’re ubering.” Courtney moved hair from your face, and you saw something dubious hidden in her smile. She leaned further into your space, lowering their voice, “And you’re not going anywhere.”

“What?” You made a face.

“Give yourself,” they pressed a finger to your chest, “an opportunity.”

You grasped her hand, squeezing her fingers. Shayne looked on, and if he knew what you were talking about, he kept it to himself.

“I’m leaving. I’ll be gone—out the door right after you.” You argued, and Courtney raised her eyebrows, waving you off before exiting. Shayne followed close behind her.

You didn’t leave right after them. As it turned out, you didn’t really want to leave at all.

You liked Damien’s house. It was spooky year-round, warm in both temperature and color palette, and his couch was cozy.

It wasn’t just the furniture; Damien’s presence was equally as, if not more, comforting. He walked around picking up whatever had been misplaced during the night, trying to find the right spot for it all. He hummed quietly to himself, shooing the cats away with his feet.

“I’m sorry for not helping,” you shifted on the couch, lying on your side.

“Don’t be sorry,” he smiled, “It’s fun to organize.”

“That is such a you thing to say, you know that?”

“What is?”

“That organizing is fun.”

“It is. Especially when I have company while I do it.” He looked pointedly at you. You held eye contact.

“You can tell me to leave. If you’re done for the night.”

“Why would I want you to leave?” He looked genuinely curious as to why you would think he’d want you gone.

“If you’re tired, or something. I get it.”

“No,” he shook his head, grabbing a cup that had been left half-full on a bookshelf, “I like having you around.”

“Can I get that as a written statement? Signed, dated…” You sat up a bit, positioning your head on the armrest of the sofa.

“Absolutely not. Nobody can ever know.” He laughed, and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

“Come sit with me.” You leaned over to pat a cushion before returning to your reclined position.

It could’ve just been the liquid courage you’d ingested, but you’d only had one drink. It was hardly enough to make you feel a buzz, let alone get you drunk. Maybe you were just thinking too much about what Courtney had said, about giving yourself a chance, finding an opening to let him in. Or maybe you were just really, really comfortable where you were spread out on the couch. For once, though, the confidence seemed to be your own doing.

Damien put down the cup in his hand and settled on the couch. You rested your feet on his thigh, and he placed a hand on your shin.

You’d always felt that any one-on-one time you got with him had a deadline, like you were on a time crunch based off of when the next video needed to be filmed or when your friends would join the conversation. It made the moments alone with him all the more enjoyable.

You liked being here, alone with him.

You liked it a lot.

“You wanna do something?” Damien leaned his head back on the couch, stretching his arms out beside him. You tried not to pay too much attention to the way the fabric of his t-shirt hugged his arms and the broad expanse of his chest.

“Like what?” You quirked a brow.

"Something low energy that makes us feel like we’re doing something…” He mulled over the possibilities, “Smash Bros?”

You nodded. “Wanna make it interesting?”

“I’m not putting money down.”

“Because you’re scared?”

“Yeah,” he smiled, “Scared you’ll lose. Wouldn’t wanna take a chunk out of your day rate.”

“You fucking wish,” you kicked at him gently. “I wasn’t thinking the gambling route.”

“So what were you thinking?”

“You ever played strip poker?”

Damien looked taken aback, and you regretted your proposal almost instantly. “Are you suggesting we play strip Smash?” He broke into a fit of laughter.

“We don’t—it was just a thought.” You tried to retract your suggestion.

“I didn’t say no.” He held your gaze, and you felt a tug in your stomach. “But if you get cold, tell me.”

“You say that like I’m going to lose.”

“Oh, is that what that sounded like?” He tossed you a controller, “Good. Cause that’s what I meant.”

You kicked at him again.

You lost your socks first. Then your shirt. You didn’t know whether or not to thank or chastise yourself for remembering to wear a bra. Your pants quickly followed, and though it was far from a matching set, you were relieved that your undergarments were at least presentable.

You were acutely aware of your own body now; the rise and fall of your chest and the way you moved your legs when you got caught up in the game. You didn’t notice Damien: how he bit the inside of his cheek so hard when you took off your shirt that he flinched; how he nearly lost his grip on the controller when your jeans came off; how he kept shifting in his seat.

You especially didn’t notice the way he looked at you. His eyes flicked over your face with a combination of pride and adoration, and they darkened significantly when his gaze dropped below your collar and took in your half-naked form.

“How far are you gonna take this?” Damien was grinning, his voice the only other sound against the backdrop of in-game blasts and the click of thumbs on controllers.

“Down to my skin.” You shot him a glance and he cleared his throat.

“Won’t be long, then.”

“Yeah?” You bumped your shoulder against his lightly.

“You’re oh-for-three.” He pointed out, and you pushed against him again, harder this time, in an attempt to throw him off his rhythm.

“Let me choose a different character.” You tried to reach for his hands to grab at the controller. He held it up and away from his body.

“I don’t think the character is the problem,” he laughed, face lighting up at the way you sneered in frustration. “I’m not pausing just so you can be Kirby.”

“Who said I wanted to be Kirby?” You chastised him.

“Did you want to be Kirby?” He looked smug when he turned to face you, his hands still out of reach. You realized how close you’d gotten to him over the course of your teasing exchange, and suddenly recognized that the opportunity Courtney had been alluding to was right in front of you.

You moved to straddle his waist, legs framing his body and tits inches from his face as you stretched out to grab his hands, removing the controller from his grasp. You tossed it to the side and Damien was frozen as you shifted to look behind you at the screen, your victory now swift thanks to the lack of any opponent.

You turned back to him with a smile. “Did you want to be Kirby,” you imitated him, echoing his taunt. “Lose the shirt, Dames.”

Damien looked up at you, frozen. The tension was almost visible, like fogged glass, and you had no idea how to clear the air. You were nearly certain that you had made a terrible mistake, that everything about tonight was about to go wrong.

You were unable to make eye contact with him—afraid that by looking at him you would completely fall apart and lose the edge you’d only just found. Throughout your mental battle with yourself, Damien still hadn't moved, his gaze fixed on your face.

You tried to make your fear dissipate by breaking the silence.

“What?” You laughed, a little awkwardly.

Damien swallowed. “I...sorry,” His eyes were wide as he spoke, “I just got…very nervous and—and really turned on.”

Oh.

He let out a small, huffed laugh, smiling up at you in a moment of awe. He blinked hard a few times before moving his arm to rest behind his head.

“That…that makes two of us, then,” you stayed where you were, placing your hands on your thighs. You licked your lips, exhaling, before finding the nerve to continue. “You still have to take your shirt off, though. You lost. Rules are rules.”

“Didn't you get to take your socks off first?” He narrowed his eyes playfully.

“You can take them off," your words were coy. "You want me to move?”

“I never said that.” He shook his head, leaning forward just enough to grant him the space to remove his t-shirt. He tossed it to the side, and you felt your whole body flood with nerves and anticipation when he leaned back against the couch on full display for you.

“Are you cold?” Damien brought his hand up to cup your elbow, and it was only then that you became aware of the goosebumps that had broken out over your flesh.

“No…No. Just…” You swallowed, moving slightly on his lap. “Just nervous.”

He let out a small laugh. “Do you—I mean…” He was entranced, unable to remove his eyes from your face for the fear that if he looked at any more of you, you’d be able to feel his reaction. You reached out to trace a hand over his chest, admiring him and letting the heat of his skin warm your palm. “Would you mind if…” He bit his lip, closing his eyes while your fingers grazed his flesh. He took a deep breath. “Can I kiss you?”

You stopped your hand, letting it linger on the center of his chest, just above his stomach. Damien gingerly placed a hand on your waist, and for just a moment you wondered if he could feel the desperation seeping through your skin.

“Yeah. Yeah, you can kiss me.” you nodded, maybe a little overzealous, “Please.”

You leaned forward into him. You could feel the weight of his hand on your body and the thrum of your own heartbeat in your chest as it threatened to break through your ribcage. You watched him suck in a sharp, deep breath before his other hand cupped your face. You closed your eyes, letting him guide you into the kiss.

It was tender. You moved slowly, in tandem with him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, letting yourself settle into him as you got lost in the way his mouth felt on yours. You let your lips part, making space for his tongue to dip between them and explore you further. You let out a quiet moan when he licked into you, and you let your own tongue delve beyond his lips to take a taste of what you’d been craving so urgently. His grip on your waist tightened in response to your sounds, and you took it upon yourself to test the waters, rolling your hips against him. You were rewarded with the feeling of his stiffening cock between your legs, and a gruff sound that caught in his throat. His hand moved from your face to the back of your head, applying light pressure to keep you steady as the kiss became hungrier, and he bit at your bottom lip.

When you parted, both of you pausing to catch your breath, he looked up at you, quietly chuckling to himself.

“What?” You let your hands wander over his shoulders, “Was it that bad?”

“What? No—god, no. No, I’ve just…I’ve always wanted to do that.” Damien smiled, moving his thumb in a soothing pattern over your hip, “I’ve always wanted to do that…” He trailed off, raking his eyes over you and letting both hands move up and down your sides.

“Really?” You posed the question with your eyes closed, lost in his touch. You let yourself fall forward on his chest.

“Really.” He sighed dreamily, “I can’t begin to explain to you how much space you take up in my head. The real thing is a lot better than the imaginary version.” 

“But you can do whatever you want in your imagination.” You pointed out, pressed against him and tracing lines over his collar with one finger.

“Yeah. Sure. But nothing I think up could ever beat this.” His fingers grazed the clasp of your bra, “And, full transparency, I’ve thought up a lot.”

You laughed, pushing yourself up with both hands on his chest to really look at him; his hair was messy, and his cheeks were flushed pink.

He looked flawless. You felt flawless.

“Damien,” your tone was saccharine, still tinged with a shy edge but steadily coming into your own with help from Damien’s clear reciprocation of your feelings, “Do you wanna show me all the thoughts you’ve had?” You watched his face go stern at your words, still hinting his amusement with a small, nearly hidden smile. “Do you wanna act on them?”

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against him; somehow the feeling of your tits pressed against his bare chest was almost more intimate than the kiss you’d just shared. You squealed, tossing your head back, which he took as an opportunity to leave dainty kisses on your throat, muttering against your skin.

“I don’t think you’ve ever seen my room.” His voice was gravelly, parched from the kisses he left on your skin as he picked you up. You gasped, suddenly off the ground and in his arms as he carried you down the hall; one of his hands trailed down your body, and you felt his fingers dig into the flesh of your upper thigh to keep his hold on you. You hid your face in the crook of his neck, letting him overwhelm your senses.

You got lost momentarily, like time had paused or sped up or stopped completely, but then you were in his room. The lights were dim, just as they were in the rest of the house, and the shelves stacked with various tchotchkes and books that you were too distracted to care about in the moment.

You realized that a person could look like their home, in a way, and you recalled the moment earlier in the evening when you had found yourself so attracted to how Damien carried himself in his own space. It’s because the space was just as welcoming, just as comforting and soothing as he was.

He let his grip on you loosen, and you landed on his bed, hands still wrapped around him and tentative of letting go. But you didn’t have to; he lay next to you, rolling onto his side and pulling you against him in a swift maneuver that placed you comfortably on his chest.

He didn’t kiss you, maybe out of anxiety that he was moving too fast for your taste, or just because he felt the moment didn’t call for it, but he brushed his nose against yours and let his hands linger on your waist.

“Is this what you thought about?” You whispered, letting him continue his quiet ministrations, “Taking me to bed and touching me like this?”

“And so much more,” he breathed, hands moving up your back, trying to commit your entire body to memory. “I hope you—I didn’t mean for it to come off like I’ve only ever thought about fucking you.”

You moved to rub your thumb over his cheek. “What did you mean?”

“That I don’t want you to be my friend,” he smiled, and your heart dropped for a second before he continued, “That I think about you all the time in ways that friends don’t think about each other. And I…” He searched for the right words, “Even after a night like this, even after, you know, seeing everybody and having everybody over—even when a place is full of people, and noise…You’re still the only person I can pay attention to. Or think about.”

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh, and he pulled away from you to meet your gaze.

“Does that sound really stupid?”

“No,” you reassured him, pulling him back towards you, “No, it’s…you put it into words, Damien.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I get it. I’ve been trying to figure out how to describe what you mean to me, and you just,” you laughed again, trying to collect yourself, “You did the work for me.” You smiled, tilting your head back with your chest still pressed against him, making sure he paid attention to what you were saying. “I love you.”

You watched his face change, something in his eyes and the curl of his lips looked different in a way you couldn’t pinpoint. You couldn’t look for long, because he was on you again in a flash, arms wrapping around you, engulfing you with his body and tugging you into him. His lips crashed against yours, and it was hungry, and messy, and passionate, so much so that you couldn’t be bothered to care about the clack of teeth or the small bead of spit that fell from the corner of your lip.

“I love you,” Damien’s voice sounded tight, higher than it had been all night, “I love you.” He freely explored your body now, big hands reaching over your ass and offering soft squeezes before grazing your sides and the swell of your breasts.

“You know how,” you managed to get a few words in between heated kisses, “you said you didn’t want it to come off as if you only wanted to fuck me?” You let out a small moan when he licked a stripe up your neck and to your earlobe, mumbling quiet curses to yourself at the feel of his tongue on your body.

“Mhm,” Damien acknowledged your words without breaking away from you, still nipping at your neck while you let your breathing mellow so that you could continue speaking.

“Want you to fuck me,” you put a hand in his hair, forming a fist in the silver strands and pulling him up to make eye contact. “Damien, I want you to fuck me.”

He looked almost surprised, like he had forgotten physical intimacy beyond kissing you was even an option. The look of mild shock was replaced with clear enthusiasm as he moved to get off of the bed. “I’d hate to make you ask twice.”

He shed his jeans, and you realized this was more of him than you had ever seen before; standing next to you was the man that took up all your thoughts, ready and willing to give you what you wanted, his eyes like pools of reverence as they trailed over your form.

You couldn’t help but feel excited, uncaring if you came off as desperate. You sat up and moved to the edge of the bed, situating yourself on your knees. Your hands found purchase on his chest and slowly moved down his stomach until you reached the waistband of his boxers.

“Eager,” he let your hands wander, watching on as you explored. You paused, looking up at him to wordlessly ask if you were allowed to go further. “Don’t be shy, baby,” something about his tone had changed, and the cheerful voice you’d come to know and love was replaced with a deeper, rasping sound that you thought you might like even more. “You can touch. Take what you need.”

The words reached your core before they fully hit your ears, and you shifted on your knees, pressing your thighs together to give yourself some relief. Sliding your hand under his waistband, you were met with the solid, smooth skin of his cock. He helped you pull his boxers down and over his length, letting it spring free, and you felt your mouth water.

He was big, thick, and while not surprising in the slightest, you couldn’t help but whine at the sight before you. You looked up at him, your hand wrapped around his cock, thumb brushing the reddened tip; you expected him to look smug, proud of himself, maybe, but he looked dumbstruck, in awe of the way your hand looked wrapped around him—in awe of the fact that it was you.

“Damien,” you prompted, and it broke him out of his haze. He nodded. “Can I…”

“Please,” he took a deep breath, “God, yes, please.”

You smiled. “Well, I’d hate to make you ask twice.” He laughed at your mimicry before quickly silencing himself with a shaky moan when you licked an experimental stripe up the bottom of his cock. He tilted his head to the side, unable to decide whether to get lost in the pleasure or to enjoy the view he had of you, bent over yourself on your knees and using your mouth in a way he’d only ever dreamed of.

You spit in your hand, gliding it over him and appreciating the way he felt in your hands; the warmth, the pliant weight. You made sure he was looking when you finally took his tip in your mouth, circling your tongue over him. You moved your hand in sync with the way you bobbed your head. He groaned, hand flying to rake his fingers through your hair, and the way he sighed out your name spurred you on more.

His other hand caressed your back, tugging cautiously at the straps of your bra.

“Take it off,” you pumped him in your hand, letting your tongue flick out to deliver barely-there licks to the tip of his cock. “Take it off for me.”

“Fuck.” He huffed, hypnotized by the way you used your mouth on him. He undid the clasp with one hand, and you let the straps hang off your body. You didn’t want to pause your movements, didn’t even want to slow down at the risk of having to go for even a second without hearing him moan your name; you shook the constricting material from yourself, taking him deeper in your mouth until tears pricked your eyes so that you could slip your bra off your arms. Damien let out a low groan, tightening the grip he still had on your hair. 

You took him deeper still, hand working what you couldn’t fit down your throat. When you gagged on him, he let out an absolutely filthy sound.

“You like that?” He was smiling with his mouth open, chest heaving with every breath, “You like choking on me?” You answered with a garbled “yes,” his cock still pressed against the back of your throat, one hand on his hip to keep yourself stable as your other hand stroked the base of him. He moaned. “You look so pretty. Always knew you’d look so good with my cock down your throat, baby.”

You couldn’t help the noise that you let out, something between a gasp and a moan that sent vibrations up Damien’s spine. You continued to move up and down over his cock before removing your mouth from him, spit dripping down your chin and a dopey smile on your lips.

Damien grabbed your face in one hand, fingers pressing hard against your cheeks as he pulled you up to his level. “You really are just so fucking perfect.” He kissed you, letting the drool that coated your chin drip onto his face. “Can I taste you? Can I taste how sweet you are?”

You nodded, the hand he still had on your face moving with you.

“Yeah? Say it.” He demanded, and you whimpered, enjoying the look of dominance on him.

“Want you to taste me, Damien.” When you spoke, his fingers pressed the inside of your cheeks against your teeth. “Want you to taste how sweet I am.”

He growled, moving his jaw in a circle as if to stretch the muscles in preparation for what he planned on doing to you. “How do you ask nicely?”

You felt an adrenaline rush deep in your stomach. It was one thing to be here with your pleasure in his hands, but to hear Damien say the things you’d fantasized about for so long made your head swim.

“Please…” One of your hands grabbed impatiently at his arm, “Please, Damien…want…want you to fuck me with your tongue. Please.”

He kissed you again, smiling against your mouth and removing his hand from your face to push softly against your chest so that you fell back onto the bed. He knelt on the mattress, holding your calves and pulling your legs open. You sank into the pillows at the head of the bed, letting them cradle and support you at an angle that allowed you to look down at Damien, whose face hovered over your core. His fingers danced over the waistband of your panties, and you wondered if he had felt the same tingly sensation when you toyed with his boxers as you did right now with his hands running over your hips and stomach.

He pressed his face against your clothed cunt, impatient and greedy for you. You moaned, one hand fisting the sheets under you while the other came to rest on your thigh, holding your legs open for him when your muscles threatened to snap them closed following the sudden contact.

“Fuck, Damien, that feels—that’s so good.” You squirmed under him as he licked over your panties, tongue brushing your clit through the fabric. You tried to push the material down, wiggling your hips to ease your panties off your body, but Damien caught your hands in his.

“Let me play, baby.” His doe eyes stared up at you from between your legs with a devious glint. You didn't listen, and instead continued to move your hips in an attempt to wriggle out of the fabric that kept his mouth from making direct contact with you. He pressed down on your hips, forcing you to cease your fidgeting. “Be patient.”

He licked a stripe from where your panties threatened to reveal your hole and up to your clit, and you arched your back in an attempt to encourage him further.

“God, Damien, please!” You pleaded, begging for him to touch you without the obstacle of the fabric that remained on your body. “Want it—said you wanted to taste me, you can taste me—you can taste me, I need it. Please, let me feel your tongue, please—”

Damien snapped your waistband and you yelped, effectively ending your rambling.

“You’re pretty when you beg," he kissed your stomach, and you let out a whimper. "But if you don’t shut your mouth, I’ll fuck it.” Damien’s words weren’t harsh, you could hear the joviality buried under the severity in his voice, and somehow that made it even sexier.

Your arousal was heightened when, as you moaned at his words, you felt two thick fingers plunge into your cunt. Your breath caught in your throat, and you choked out his name.

“Oh my god!” You cried out, looking down to see that he had moved your panties to the side to give himself access to your entrance. His fingers pumped in and out of you, curling to hit your more delicate spots, and the sound was utterly indecent.

“You’re soaked,” Damien was smiling with his top teeth, watching his fingers as they disappeared inside of you. “What got you so wet, baby?”

“Because…s’cause…” You didn’t have the energy to talk, too focused on the way his fingers pushed against the walls of your cunt, forcing your body to make space for him.

“Because why?” He goaded, thumb rubbing circles on your clit as he pushed his fingers deeper, “Because you like the way I touch you? Hm? Because you’ve been thinking about this as much as I have? For as long as I have?”

You nodded, mouth agape and eyes threatening to roll back; maybe you looked pathetic, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, completely content with his fingers thrusting into you.

“Aw, come on. If you still want my mouth, you’re gonna have to do better than that.” He removed his fingers from inside of you, using the slick that coated them as lubricant to massage your clit.

“Wanted this for so long—so fucking long, Damien.” Your words came out rushed and breathy, “Thought about you like this all the time. Thought about—about you when I came, every time I came.” You couldn’t stop yourself from telling him the truth, the words tumbled from your lips as easily as taking a breath.

Your admission made him pause his movements, and for a moment the dominance in his face faded into something more tender. But he gathered himself, finally pulling off your panties in one fell swoop, then taking one of your legs and hooking your knee over his shoulder while you continued to babble to him.

“Keep talking, princess,” the nickname made you dizzy with desire, and you whined out for him, your eyes wide and watery when his breath fanned over your now bare, slick coated center. “Keep talking. Tell me all about it while I taste you.”

The first swipe of his tongue against your clit sent shockwaves through you, and you whimpered before recollecting your train of thought.

“Th—oh!” You quickly lost your words again when Damien began to ease his tongue into your entrance, toying with your hole before plunging into you with a purpose. He squeezed your thigh, and you took it as encouragement to continue. “Thought about this all the time—about your mouth against me. Using your mouth on me until my legs got sore from the way you’d hold me open.” He groaned against your cunt, and you extended a hand to comb your fingers through his hair. “Thought about all the ways you could use me. All the ways I would let you use me—fuck, like that, please!”

He had his face buried in you, your slick dripping down his chin and his nose pressed against your clit. You could feel the movement of his tongue inside of you, and you tugged on his hair as the sensation spread over your body.

“Thought about getting on my knees for you. I would let you have me whenever you wanted—wherever you wanted.”

Damien growled. “Yeah?” His brow quirked and he looked up at you momentarily before diving back into your heat, “Have to take you up on that.”

You whimpered, the muscles in your thighs and abdomen tensing from the onslaught of pleasure, and the feeling let you know that you were approaching your peak.

“Knew you would make me feel so amazing, Damien, knew you’d make me cum like nobody else ever could.” You were stringing words together faster than your brain could think them up. But even if they came out jumbled, every last word was true.

“Want you to cum on my mouth,” Damien was grinding his hips against the mattress, the relief he got from the fabric of the sheets dulled his intense arousal only momentarily, but he chased the feeling. “Please, baby, give it to me.”

You pulled his hair, admittedly harder than you had intended, but with the moan he let out, it seemed he didn’t mind. His tongue worked wonders as he extended it over and into you. Right when you thought you were already done for, limbs going slack and the pleasant tingle in your core reaching a fever pitch, Damien wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked hard, letting his tongue flick against the sensitive bud.

It felt good to scream out for him, to let his name fall repeatedly from your lips as you yanked on his hair, but it felt better to hear his voice and the words that rang out from between your legs.

“Beautiful,” he was mumbling, still licking into you, trying to savor the tangy flavor of your cum. “So fucking beautiful, baby. Look at the pretty fucking mess you made. Did such a good job.”

You tugged again on his hair and he let you guide him up to face level. When he leaned in to kiss you, you opened your mouth instantly, and he slid his tongue between your lips. You sucked on it happily, eager to taste yourself on him, eager to experience everything you'd always imagined being able to do with him.

In turn, he held you close, so you wouldn’t slip away like you did when he woke up from his dreams.

You let the kiss linger, leisurely grasping at each other and appreciating the newfound lack of constraint. You curled yourself into him, lying on your side and tangling your legs with his in an effort to get as close to him as you could.

“You look so pretty when you cum,” Damien mumbled, lips grazing your pulse point, dipping down and sucking faint bruises onto your collar. “I want to see it again.”

“You can see it whenever you want,” you closed your eyes, relishing the gentle pressure he was putting on your skin so that the marks would form in small spots across your chest. You cupped his cheek in your hand, and he reluctantly stopped licking the bruises that had begun to pop up. Your thumb stroked the skin under his eye. “I want you to see it again now.”

Damien leaned into you, trailing kisses over your jaw. “You want me to fuck you?” He licked a stripe up your neck and over your chin. When his tongue reached your mouth, you opened for him, letting him lick between your lips, kissing him fervidly and moaning softly. “Yeah? You want me to fuck you? Want me to fuck you even though I just made you cum?" He growled into your mouth. "You need more already?"

“Yeah,” you smiled shyly, rubbing your face against the stubble on his cheek.

“Needy thing.” He removed his hands from you, then snaked his arms through the gap in your bodies and put his hands on your shoulders, pushing you against the mattress and onto your back.

He straddled your legs, keeping you immobile on the bed and kissing down your chest. He nipped at the plush flesh of your breasts, unable to contain himself, unable to hide the obvious pleasure he took in seeing you this way.

“Damien—” You sighed when he circled his tongue around one of your nipples, your fingers wrapping around his bicep.

“I know. I know. Sorry, I just—God, you’re beautiful.” He smiled, more to himself than to you, but the joy on his face was palpable, and you were sure he could detect the pride you felt at being the one to make him feel this way.

He used his knee to spread your legs, opening you up for him, moving his own legs to situate himself between your thighs. One of his hands ran up and down your leg as he stroked himself, lining his cock up with your entrance. When the tip of him rubbed between your folds, you whimpered, moving your hands down his arm and squeezing his forearm.

“Is this what you want?” Damien was looking down, examining how perfectly his body meshed with yours. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Yeah,” your words were barely above a whisper, “Want you to fuck me.”

He moved his hand further up your body and squeezed your hip. “Where are your manners, princess?” He smirked, “Say please.”

“Please, Damien,” you stared up at him wide-eyed, captivated. “Please.”

“There you go.” He squeezed your hip again in recognition of your obedience. Slowly, as if he was worried he’d break you, he pushed into you, watching your eager, waiting cunt swallow every inch he offered you. You moaned, squeezing his arm and leaving small, curved marks where your nails dug into his skin. You watched his eyelids flutter, head tilting back with his mouth ajar, letting out a deep groan as he squeezed his eyes shut before opening them again to meet your heavy-lidded gaze.

“Big.” It was all you said, stretched and full of him in a way nobody had ever filled you up before.

Damien swallowed a laugh, flashing a domineering smile. “Big?”

“Too big.” You clarified, not entirely meaning it; you were thrilled to be this packed with him, but it had been so long since you’d felt a satisfying sting like this that it would take you a moment to get accustomed to it.

“You can take it, baby. I know you can.” He pressed his palm over your stomach, brushing his thumb across your skin soothingly. “You tell me if it’s too much, ok? Use your words, say it’s too much, and I’ll stop.”

“Don’t want you to stop.” Your voice came out strong momentarily, so eager for him that the possibility of him leaving you empty made you tense. “Waited so long…” You said, mellowing slightly, “Want you. Want you to…to use me.”

Damien made a throaty noise, something between a laugh and a moan that both relaxed and lit a fire inside you. Unhurried, he pulled out of you, his hands on your hips to give himself proper leverage. You exhaled slowly, mind set adrift by the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls; his rounded tip, every vein that ran up his length—you were certain you could feel it all.

You whimpered when he had pulled out enough so that nothing but the head of his cock penetrated you. You swayed your hips, trying to spur him on, but even with just the tip you felt you had ample stimulation.

He didn’t stop you, just watched on as you tried to fuck yourself with the tip of his cock just barely inside of you.

“You need some help?” He raised an eyebrow at.

“Please—fuck me, please.” You nodded excitedly, aching for him.

He smiled, eyes fixed on your face as he rammed back into you, watching your mouth contort and your tits bounce as your body absorbed the force. You screamed out for him, arching your back, which gave him the ability to push the remainder of his cock as far into you as he could.

“Fuck Damien! So—feel…so full!” You felt a tear fall over your cheek, overwhelmed by the bliss of having his cock buried inside of you and the rough way in which he made it happen. He leaned over you, supporting himself on his forearms as he caged you between them, and met you at face level. He thrust in and out of you shallowly, bringing his lips to your cheek and kissing the path of the delighted tears you had shed.

“Yeah? Feel full?” He whispered, still moving his hips, his cheek pressed against yours so he could speak directly into your ear.

“Yes, Damien—God, yes!” You wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to immerse yourself in all of him. You searched for any part of him that you could reach with your mouth, planting sloppy kisses on his collar, his shoulder, the crook of his neck.

“Good.” He kissed your cheek again, before licking the wet, salty trail that your tears had left behind. “Want you to feel me for days after this.” He found your lips and kissed you, the pace and intensity of his thrusts increasing. “And when you can finally walk straight, I’m gonna do it to you all over again.”

You scraped your nails up his back, moaning for him and desperate to have him follow through on his threat. He buried his face in your neck, and you could feel the tug of his stubble on your skin as he panted against you, fucking into you aggressively in a way you’d always dreamed he would.

Each thrust felt deeper, and there came a point where you felt a pleasant pain in your side as his cock brushed your cervix.

“Damien—Christ, you’re so fucking deep,” Your nails jabbed harder into the skin of his back and he let out a hiss. “Please, like that. Just like that, don’t stop. B-bruise me, please, please!”

“I won’t stop, princess,” Damien’s words were snarled, gruff in your ear as his lips grazed just below your earlobe. “I promise. Wanna leave this pretty pussy so nice and sore.” He sucked a mark under your jawline, "Wanna ruin you."

You moved one hand, fingers lacing through his silver hair and yanking at the brown roots to pull him from his spot in the crook of your neck. He took the hint, rising up to meet you, his mouth finding yours and biting at your bottom lip.

“I love you,” you couldn’t bite back the words, not even if you tried; not when his cock was hitting spots you didn’t even know were there, not when he was using all his upper body strength to stay above you just so he could gaze down upon your tear-streaked, fucked out face, not when it was something you’d been dying to tell him in this capacity for as long as you could remember. “I love you, Damien—I love you.”

“I love you,” he echoed your words, voice softening and face relaxing. “I love you so much. I do, I love you so much.”

You raised your hips to meet his thrusts, and Damien moaned out your name, muscle in his jaw tensing before he let his mouth fall slack. He paused momentarily, sitting up while still buried inside you, to take your legs in his hands and press your knees back to your chest. You were bent in half, completely at his mercy and loving it. You yelped, the new angle giving him the ability to drive harder and deeper into you; the control he had over your body made your head swim and your cunt squeeze around him. He leaned over you, smiling through the pleasure that clouded his mind to jeer at you affectionately as he continued to escalate the manner in which he fucked you.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He watched you, your head lolling to the side and practically drooling as you looked back up at him, pitiful moans and gibberish the only way you could communicate. “Lose your voice?”

You swallowed hard, gasping for air and overcome with the feeling of him. You searched for the right words.

“Make me—oh!—feel so good,” you panted, “so fucking good.”

“Who makes you feel so good?” Damien pressed, plunging his cock as deep as he could, his hips firm against the back of your thighs.

“You do!” You felt all of him, and still, somehow, you craved more. “You do—you, you!”

“Yeah? Say it princess. Say Damien you make me feel so good.” He grabbed your chin, forcing you to stare up at him with your lust-blown eyes. “Say it.”

“Da—Damien,” you whimpered as he fucked you in quick bursts while waiting for you to speak. “Damien, you—you make m-me feel so good.”

He pressed his lips to yours, further enhancing the way your body was already contorted, and you moaned into his mouth at the feeling of being used like a toy by him.

“That’s right,” Damien licked into your mouth, “You make me feel so good, princess.”

He pulled back from your face, straightening once more; he grabbed your legs and threw them over his shoulders, gripping your thighs close to his body and using them to pull you onto his cock. The sounds you made were high pitched and pathetic, eyes rolling back while he placed kisses on your calves where they were slung over his shoulders; he nipped at you, teeth just barely grazing the flesh of your legs as his lips did a bulk of the work. The tickle of his five o’clock shadow was a welcome match to the gentle pressure you felt in your abdomen brought on by the way his cock stretched you.

He wrapped one arm around your legs, leaving you powerless to his movements as your head pushed back into the pillows from the sheer delight of feeling him inside of you, heightened by the depth and momentum with which he fucked you. He let his other hand drop to hold your hips, thumb caressing your skin with unidentifiable shapes.

You couldn’t remember getting fucked like this before—if you ever even had been fucked like this before. Somehow Damien knew you inside and out better than anybody else did, maybe even better than you knew yourself. This was proven by the way he drove his hips into you, hauling you over his cock and making you feel the delicious drag of his length in a way that made you feel full to the point of near discomfort. The electrified jolts of satisfaction when the tip of his cock pressed up against your more delicate, hidden spots, were eased by the soft way he touched you. The feeling wasn’t confined to your walls; his fingers brushed your clit, the ghost of a touch sending shockwaves through your system. You wriggled your body, unable to contain yourself and responding physically to the way his digits teased you while he ruined you with his cock.

He was rough, wild, and everything you needed. When you looked up at him, you could still see the kindness in his features, hear the compassion with which he moaned your name, feel the romantic way he squeezed at your body even while he was fucking you stupid. His groaned words of praise, of affirmation, when he managed to gasp your name between panting thrusts brought you to the edge just as much as his physical prowess did, and you let it be known how you were feeling.

“Damien—” You reached out, grasping at his arm where it wrapped around your legs, his other hand kneading your clit in slow circles. You felt your cunt tighten around him, walls fluttering in preparation for your oncoming orgasm, hips bucking on their own accord as you chased the ecstasy he brought you.

“Give me another, princess,” he grunted, pounding into you, his fingers deftly tracing over your clit. “Doing so good, give me one more.”

You turned your face to the side and buried it into the pillow under you, biting into the cloth to silence your increasingly loud screams. He reached down to grab your face, once again pushing your knees to your chest and earning a loud gasp of his name as you wiggled your hips against him, relishing the feel of his cock throbbing deep inside of you.

“Show me that pretty face,” he cooed, sweat lining his temples from exertion, “Let me hear those pretty sounds.” He pressed hard against your clit, and your body responded explosively; you screamed for him, reaching for his shoulders to pull him to your chest and kiss him as a warm feeling spread from your center and out to your limbs. You could feel it in your chest, the fulfillment traveling over every inch of your body, muscles responding in kind with small twitches as your cunt squeezed him tight.

Your legs squirmed free from underneath him, and you wrapped them around his waist, keeping him close to you while you rode out your high, circling your hips over his cock. He moaned into your mouth, the kiss devolving into a messy exchange of spit and sweat and teeth, lips chapped and swollen with passion. You bit his lip and he growled, leisurely swaying his hips and punctuating his thrusts with eager whines.

“Where,” he was breathing heavily, once again finding solace in the crook of your neck. “Where do you want it, baby. Tell me. Please.” He was practically whimpering, begging you for permission to finish by communicating where it was you wanted his cum.

“Inside,” you moaned, the aftershocks of your orgasm lulling you into a sleepy heap of oversensitivity and devotion.

Damien growled as he took in your request. “You’re—fucking christ, you’re sure?”

“Please,” it was all you could say, desperate to feel the culmination of his pleasure inside of you. “Pill. Need it, Damien. Cum inside me. Let me feel it, please.”

Damien groaned at your words, brow knit and mouth open. He sped up his pace, pushing himself up from you and supporting himself on his hands. You whined, content and aching for him.

“Fuck, I'm gonna fill this pussy up so deep.” Damien squeezed his eyes shut momentarily before opening them and looking down at you, “Fuck—gonna cum, baby, I'm—fuck!” His hips stuttered, and you wrapped your legs around him tighter, keeping him secure against you. He dropped down onto you, still providing shallow thrusts, though much gentler than before. “I love you,” he whispered, lips pressing against your neck as he engulfed you with his own body, cock spent and twitching inside of you, “I love you.”

“I love you,” you repeated quietly, and when he kissed you, you could feel that he meant it; the words echoed in your mind as he eased his lips against yours, taking time now to really savor the way you moved against him and enjoy how perfectly you fit together.

You focused on catching your breath, and he removed himself from atop you as he collected himself. When he slipped his cock from you, you whimpered at the new emptiness, and he kissed your temple.

You both stayed there, lying in bed together while you came down from the high-energy tryst. You still couldn't remove yourselves from each other completely, limbs tangling together and hands gliding over sweaty skin as you appreciated the tranquility together.

“Do you want water?” He asked, nose rubbing against your cheek.

“Yeah,” you gulped a breath, “Yeah. Thanks.”

He got up on shaky legs and found a pair of sweatpants, walking to the kitchen only to return seconds later with a glass of water. His face was radiant and his cheeks dusted pink as he beamed at you.

“Thank you, baby,” you guzzled the cool liquid, mouth dry from the way he'd made you scream.

“Say—” Damien looked down at you, giddy, “Will you say it again?”

You smiled, tired eyes taking in his form. “Thank you, baby.”

He sat down next to you. The mattress shifted with his weight, and you inched yourself towards him.

“I like hearing you say it.” He seemed timid, like after all that had happened, he was still worried you’d reject him.

“I like saying it,” you nuzzled your face into his stomach, resting on his thigh. His hand came down to pet your hair, thumb occasionally brushing over your temple.

“Will you stay here tonight?” He asked, “Only if you want to, I mean—but, I’d like it if you did.” He laughed to himself, “And then, you know…if you wanted to stay every night—I’d like that, too.”

“Well, good, cause the U-Haul is on its way over.” You turned your head to look up at him from your spot on his leg.

“Wow, those guys work fast,” he smirked down at you. “And then, when you, uh—when you finish moving in…could I take you out on a real date?” His face looked so gentle, “You know, away from everybody we know. Just…just us?”

“I would like that.” You smiled, turning to place a kiss on his stomach. He examined your face, still stroking your hair.

“I’m sorry if anything I said was…if you think I was moving too fast—or if I said something you want to pretend I didn’t say yet. Or at all.” He winced, nervous.

“Damien,” you sat up, shuffling to kneel in front of him and cupping his cheek, “I love you. I don’t want to pretend you never said it.” You placed a kiss on his nose, and he tackled you back onto the mattress, kissing your face.

“Thank god,” he breathed a sigh of relief, “Because I don’t think I could ever take it back.”  

“You’ve said it before,” you laughed when his head dipped under your chin to suck new marks onto your neck to match the ones that he had made prior.

“I know,” he mumbled against your skin, “But it’s—this is different. I mean it…different…” He smiled, sharp teeth on display, and you laughed again, enamored.

“Good,” you played with the hair that curled against the back of his neck, “I mean it different, too.”

Damien pulled you against his chest and rolled over, leaving you to straddle his waist and rest your head on his shoulder.

“I love you,” he sighed happily.

“I love you, too.” You left kisses on his collar bone before pressing your face against his neck.

~~~

You didn’t remember falling asleep, but when you awoke the next morning you momentarily feared that it had all been a dream; that you were back in your own bed, alone, hungover and suffering from the memories of some distant fantasy.

But you were still with Damien. His arm draped over your waist and his face pressed between your shoulder blades as he snored quietly.

You could get used to this.

You leaned back against him, eager to tell him that you loved him when he woke up.

The sun was just barely up, and the minuscule amount of light that made its way through the window illuminated tiny bits of dust that passed through the rays. Zelda had made her way into the room at some point in the night, and her soft purring sent tiny vibrations over the blanket, her body nestled into the curve of Damien’s knee behind you.

You stretched, aimlessly reaching out and inevitably grabbing hold of your phone. You dimmed the brightness, scrolling through notifications you had missed the night before; tagged pictures, drunken Instagram stories, a few Venmo requests and a few more Venmo payments.

Courtney had texted you only about 20 minutes before you had woken up.

Court: How was the rest of your night 👀

Court: Does Shayne owe me $10

Court: Or did you end up going home

You let out a silent laugh, rolling your eyes a little at the betting pool that seemed to have erupted over your love life. You twisted in bed, opening your camera and zooming in on Zelda where she sat comfortably against Damien’s knee, the backdrop of his bedroom on full display. You took a picture and sent it to Courtney with no explanation, amused by your own vague confirmation that you had spent the night with Damien—and planned to do it again. Often.

You put your phone down and it started to buzz on the nightstand, lighting up with Courtney's contact picture. You considered picking it up, but then Damien’s arm tightened around you, pulling you to him while his hand spread out over your ribcage just under your breast. He kissed your back, still half-asleep, before he resumed snoring.

You and Damien decided to take a trip to Disneyland, treating yourselves to a well-deserved trip.

Now as you two were very busy in your careers, you haven't been hanging out as much as you like to. So why not enjoy a day Disney bounding like one of your favorite characters: Rapunzel and Flynn Rider?

"I can't believe we haven't done this together." You said, taking a bite of a sweet treat you bought at a food stand.

"We really picked a good day to go out too. Perfect weather, not too crowded, and I get to spend it with my princess." Damien said, squeezing your hand gently.

You started to blush a shade of pink and you kissed Damien's cheek, making him match the same rosy cheeks as you.

"Excuse me?" a young voice said.

You both turn around and see a young girl, probably around the age of 6, dressed head to toe like the Tangled princess herself next to her parents.

"Are you Rapunzel?" She asks, her eyes beginning to widen with anticipation.

"I'm sorry, the Rapunzel meet and greet closed when we got here. She's been wanting to meet her so bad." The mom whispered for you two to hear.

You mouthed an 'Oh' quickly before you knelt down, smiling.

"Why, yes I am! And may I say you have a lovely dress, Princess..."

"Malia! Princess Malia." She said, courtesying.

"Why it's very lovely to meet you, Princess Malia. Eugene, isn't she just stunning?" You ask, staring up at Damien.

He brightens as he gets in character.

"Why she is, Blondie. It's very nice to meet you, too." Damien said, bowing down to her.

"Why's your hair purple?" She asks, pointing up at Damien.

"Oh! Um, I ate a plum, not knowing it's cursed. It made my hair purple! We're trying to find a magic item to break the spell." he replied quickly, making the young girl scrunch her nose and then laugh.

"Silly prince," she said, making you almost chuckle.

She turns around and jumps up and down.

"Mommy, can I take a picture with Rapunzel and Eugene?" she asks.

"I'm not sure baby, they have to go break the spell, remember?" she said, not wanting to impose on your time.

"Oh, we don't mind! I'd love to capture this moment too if that's alright." You said, making Malia squeal with joy.

The mom mouthed a quick thank you as you and Damien posed with the young girl. Damien stepped out of the picture so it could just be you two.

"Thank you again for doing this, Malia is going to remember this for the rest of her life." the dad said to Damien.

"Of course! I'm glad we got to make her wish come true." Damien said, seeing how Malia was still talking to you and you looked like your heart was about to burst with cuteness.

"You guys are great with kids, are you two married or...?"

Damien looks back at the dad, a bit startled.

"Oh uh, no. We've been together for 2 years now."

"Well, you two look very much in love. I look at my wife every day and I'm thankful I got to ask her to marry me." The dad concluded, walking over to his little family.

That night when Damien came back to his apartment, he was on his phone, endlessly scrolling for the perfect ring to propose you with.

+

"You look beautiful," Damien said, leaning by the door frame as he came to pick you up.

"Why thank you, you look quite dashing yourself." You said, putting the finishing touches on your makeup.

It's been four months since that day in Disneyland, and today you two were going to shoot a music cover together, singing "I See The Light" from the Tangled soundtrack.

It was Damien's idea, and you guys have been rehearsing for about a month. He asked Courtney to help out with recording and Shayne to set up some decorations by a park.

You and Damien walked over since it was close to your apartment and saw your friends brighten up.

"Aw, it looks so good guys! This has to be the most beautiful set I've recorded at." You said, noticing the decorative lanterns and the purple and pink flowers.

"Yeah, once it hits 6:00 pm we should capture the golden hour..." Courtney said, showing you how her camera can capture the scene, making you preoccupied.

Shayne goes up to Damien who falls silent, walking back and forth on a stone path.

"Hey, it's going to be alright." Shayne reassured his friend.

"I know, it's just - jitters I guess."

"Trust me, she's going to say yes, I think it's better than me practicing with you."

Damien laughs, remembering how he and Shayne would use the weekend when Shayne would take your place and pretend how you'd react once Damien popped the question.

"Thank you, for everything you and Court have been doing. I couldn't ask for better friends."

Shayne proudly smiles as he quickly hugs his friend, trying not to cry.

"You're doing great man. Let's get you ready." Shayne concluded, patting Damien's shoulder as the two walk over to you and Courtney.

She helped direct your positions as you began to perform.

All those days watching from the windows All those years outside looking in All that time never even knowing Just how blind I've been Now I'm here, blinking in the starlight Now I'm here, suddenly I see Standing here, it's all so clear I'm where I'm meant to be And at last I see the light And it's like the fog has lifted And at last I see the light And it's like the sky is new And it's warm and real and bright And the world has somehow shifted All at once everything looks different Now that I see you

You turn at Damien, smiling and he felt a flutter in his chest. Then, he too began to sing.

All those days chasing down a daydream All those years living in a blur All that time, never truly seeing Things the way they were Now she's here, shining in the starlight Now she's here, suddenly I know If she's here, it's crystal clear I'm where I'm meant to go

You and Damien held each other's hands as you looked lovingly in each other's eyes.

And at last I see the light And it's like the fog has lifted And at last I see the light And it's like the sky is new And it's warm and real and bright And the world has somehow shifted All at once, everything is different Now that I see you Now that I see you

And that's when Damien knew in this moment, that this was it. Time slowed down when he began to kneel on one knee. You looked confused as Damien was still looking up at you. It wasn't until he tries to reach for something in his pocket

"Dami?" You whisper in a small voice, now chocked up.

"When we went to Disney Land together, you made this little kid's dreams come true. And then suddenly, the world somehow shifted. I wanted to have a new dream with you. So..."

He says your full name as his smile becomes brighter.

"... will you marry me?"

You start nodding right away as you lower yourself where he is, beginning to cry.

"Yes! Yes, I will marry you." You said.

Both of you begin to cry as you hold onto each other. Damien slides the ring on your finger as he looks at you with so much love. You two stand up and you look back at your friends who caught the whole thing.

Shayne was slightly crying as Court was comforting him.

"You don't know how long we've been waiting for this." Court replied, making you all chuckle.

"What do you mean? I've been dying to do this for two years!" Damien added.

Shayne's soft chuckle pulled your attention from your laptop in front of you down towards the man with his head in your lap. His nose was buried in his book, his blue eyes darting quickly across the words.

Your heart lept to your throat as his eyes finally met yours, a grin spreading across his face and yours.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer." Shayne taunted you, earning a light flick on his forehead.

"I have enough pictures of you already." You roll your eyes, trying to focus on your writing again, your best friend unwilling to help with that.

"Shayne," you warn in a hushed toned, your lips pressed together tightly as he sat up, his hand sneaking towards your side as he leaned into you. "Don't you dare."

"What? I'm not doing anything.." He chuckled, his cheeks bright red as you turned to look at him, the feigned harshness in your eyes qickly melting away.

Shayne's hand hovered at your waist, his mouth agape as his eyes searched your face. Your mind was racing as your eyes finally met his again, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Shan-Ye!"

You two jumped back a bit, settling back into the couch as your eyes looked anywhere but to the man beside you. Damien offered you a smile, but his eyes scanned over you suspiciously.

Damien, as well as most of your other friends, refused to believe that you and Shayne couldn't be just friends.

Sorry, just best friends.

"Are y'all busy for the next hour or so? We're about to shoot 'Idiot's Present' but we could use a few more audience members?" Damien asked, eyebrows raised with a hopeful grin. Shayne shrugged, checking his watch before glancing to you.

"I can't speak for m'lady, but I'm free." The brunette looked to you, an excited gleam in his eye.

"I mean, I'm free, technically." You chewed your lip, avoiding the puppy dog eyes both of your friends were giving you. do have to finish this sketch.."

You finally look away from your screen to find both men pouting dramatically, causing you to breaking into laughter, finally agreeing. You'd been in a few ideos now, especially with the recent amount of cast videos, but it was different because you often wrote for "ldiot's Present."

You begrudgingly gave up on fighting with Jeremy and Patrick over it. The two men were adamant in their arguments, claiming that they had the perfect idea in mind, all you had to do was trust them.

The videos you had been in were a huge hit, every small moment between you and Shayne had been the most rewatched parts. Shayne had his arm draped around your shoulder in one video, the next video fans pointed out how you had been wearing Shayne's dark green flannel.

The fans loved it, your Twitter mentions were filled with screenshots of the two of you. Shayne made it a point to watch the edits made for you two as soon as he'd discovered them. The last few shoots became a game for the two of you. You had so much fun watching everyone freak out over things that were so normal for the two of you, so what if you two made it worse?

You and Shayne didn't have any feelings for each other, none at all, so you two wanted to see how far you could take it. Shayne and you were more than happy to enact this plan, a recent stream driving the fans crazy. Shayne was building another Lego set, this time he had been able to get his hands on some Star Wars sets.

About halfway through the stream, Shayne had gasped when he found a certain figure. Grinning, he set the figure aside before glancing around behind the camera.

"Y/N, c'mere, I have something for you." Your head popped up from behind your laptop screen, quickly hopping up from the couch to join him on the set. You settled into the cushions beside him, waving at the camera.

Shayne set the figure slowly into your open palm, your face turning bright red as you burs into a fit of laughter at the sight of the Lego Jar Jar Binks in your hand. Shayne couldn't hold back his laughter as he watched you giggle at the inside joke, wiping away a few tears once you'd settled down.

"Should we.. I think we should explain it, right?" You asked, Erin commenting that chat seemed just as confused as they all were.

"Okay, it's, it's very stupid but... Jar Jar is into BDSM.." Shayne began, barely able to hold in his giggles as you hid your blushing face in your hands. "Call him Jar Jar Kinks."

"It's so dumb!" You call out from behind your hands as laughter ensues around you. Shayne didn't expect something so genuine between the two of you, a stupid joke you'd told him years ago, to become a moment the fans loved. The meaning behind the joke became a huge speculation for the fans, which you two found hilarious.

The more you two pushed it, the more your friends and coworkers began to question it. The two of you were blurring the lines of friends and more, and confusing everyone. No matter what, the two of you were adamant that you were just friends.

Finally, Jeremy and Patrick knew what they had to do, and set out on their plan.

Once you three arrive at the set, Damien is quick to fill the last seat in the audience, causing a quick burst of laughter to come from Shayne as the realization hits the two of you.

Your cheeks turn bright red as your mouth is agape, Kimmy and Kiana's giggles from behind you cause you to burst into your own fit of laughter.

"Okay, yeah, this is great!" Shayne called out sarcastically, clapping as you two are quickly mic'd up, the cameras rolling since the moment you'd walked in. "Hope you guys have the chimp ready."

"A double surprise, since we're double the idiots." You laughed as Shayne took your arm in his, leading you to the markers.

"We might be idiots on just about everything, but my partner and I are very clearly experts on today's topic." Shayne began, taking a step back, standing on the opposite side of the screen.

"That we are, Shayne. We've studied this topic alongside each other for years. Hell, l'd say, we've spent almost our entire friendship on it." You looked over your shoulder, Shayne nodding in agreement just as the slide changed.

You spoke with confidence, a small fit of laughter roaring across the audience, very few of them knowing just how deeply you'd just dug your grave.

The two of you stepped back, your arms spread as the slideshow began, grinning out at the crowd.

"Oh.. oh my god." Shayne shrieked with laughter as his eyes scanned over the title card, the room eruptina into fits of lauahter. Your head snapped quickly, your eyes wide as you squealed at the title, quickly doubling over in laughter.

"This is ldiot's Present: Falling in Love with Your Best Friend." You managed to get out, quickly turning your back to the board, glaring playfully at everyone that you could.

Your eyes landed on Patrick and Jeremy, their excitement evident on their grinning faces as they both offered you thumbs up.

"Shayne and I are best friends, who are definitely not in love, but we will show you how to become best friends in love today." Shayne took a deep breath, trying to hold it together as he looked to you. He couldn't read the emotions on your face, but the smile across your lips was enough to assure him that you two could do this.

"Step one," Shayne and you called out as you gestured to the screen. "Buying coffee?" You nodded in encouragement as Shayne read, the confusion evident on your face, as it seems to dawn on the brunette.

"Oh, okay." Shayne scoffs as he takes a step forward. "The easiest way to someones heart is through their.." He began, pointing to the crowd as they sat in silence. "Coffee order! Awesome, glad you quys got it."

You stifled your laugh as Shayne clapped, your cheeks blushing brightly as you realized where he was going.

"It's super important to learn the other person's coffee order early on, you need an excuse to talk to them." Shayne nodded, his cheeks blushed brightly as he took in his friends' knowing smiles. The two of you had been going to the same coffee shop since before you'd become friends, just now.. you know every one of Shayne's orders and he knows all of yours. Bringing each other coffee every morning, or afternoon, or evening is totally platonic and not just another excuse to see each other. "It's almost as important as step two, right, Y/N?" Shayne looked over his shoulder, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"R-right, absolutely." You agree, looking over your shoulder as the next slide is shown. You felt way more nervous than you'd expected to. Shayne and you had been pretending for a while, why did it all suddenly seem so real?

"Step two, sharing everything!" You turn to the audience, tugging at the sleeves of Shayne's flannel you had on, certain that your blush was permanent at this point.

"Shayne and I love to share everything, from clothes" You began, Shayne gesturing to you for example, the crowd giggling as he mirrored Will Smith's red carpet pose. "to food, to books, to friends!"

"They always say sharing is caring, and we love to show each other how much we care." Shayne nodded, stepping closer to you as his hand settled around your waist, tugging you into his side.

"Now, step three would be." You began, the screen displaying a set of pictures of you and Shayne, the two of you quick to look at each other.

The twinkle in Shayne's eyes left a flutter in your heart as you took a deep breath, chewing your lip softly before turning toward the crowd.

"Examples, and Shayne and give plenty of examples of how to fall in love with your best friend.." You giggle, your cheeks blushed brightly as Shayne takes a shaky breath.

"Yanno, you've met your best friend, you guys are super close, now it's time for all the cute stuff." Your fingers are intertwined with Shayne's as he speaks, squeezing your hand gently.

"You guys should share your music, hold hands, cuddle... all things that friends do.. when they're in love." Shayne spoke slowly, small chuckles scaping him as kept talking. You nodded your head, grinning brightly as Shayne glanced over his shoulder to you. His hands were shaking, his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. He'd never felt like this before, it was like he had been hit by a truck. Shayne is in love with you.

"For the next slide," You continued, finally looking away from his blue eyed gaze, worried about whether or not you'd be able to make it through the rest of this shoot. "We will be demonstrating how to admit.. your love."

You chuckled nervously as you read the slide, Shayne quickly moving to face you, his hands held out to you. You placed your shaking hands in his as you mumbled a small apology. You jumped bit as the crowd chuckles, pulling you back into reality. When you look up to Shayne, he gives your hands a gentle squeeze, taking a deep breath.

"Y/N.. my best friend, I.. love you." Shayne spoke out shakily, a small chuckle escaping him as his eyes scanned your face. A smile tugs at your lips, your mind and heart racing a million miles an hour.

Your mouth was agape as it dawned on you. You love Shayne. You've been spending all this time convincing yourself that you're not, but here you are, in love with your best friend.

"I love you too, Shayne.. my best friend." After a small beat, the room around you two burst into cheers of excitement. The two of you jump a bit, Shayne tugging you into him as he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tightly.

Shayne places his lips softly to your forehead before taking a step back, a bright smile across his lips. You match his grin, your mind still racing, not certain of how true his feelings are.

"I mean that.. and I wanna talk about it off camera.." Shayne assured you, leaning in to speak quietly to you.

You two took a step back, Shayne's hand quickly grabbing at yours, your fingers lacing together. Your eyes scanned the room, taking in all the joy on the faces of your friends around you.

"And for the next slide," The two of you began laughing again as the final slide read 'Congrats Shayne and Y/N!'

"We will say our goodbyes! We hope you guys learned a lot today, my partner and I loved this opportunity to teach you guys how to fall in love with your best friend!" Shayne finished, holding your intertwined hands up in the air before the two of you bowed, cheers erupting from your crowd again.

Shayne quickly tugged you off to the side with him, frantically getting his mic pack off before he took a second, looking up to your grinning face. He couldn't believe he said those words, he couldn't believe he didn't realize it sooner.

You were quick to follow suit, taking off your mic before handing it off, leading the way off of the set. Shayne was quick on your heels, his heart racing even more than before.

As soon as you stepped into the hall, you turn around, wrapping your arms around Shayne, pulling him into you quickly. You can feel him sigh as he relaxes into your arms, holding you tightly.

The two of you hold each other for a few seconds, taking a step back and finally looking at each other again. You two break into a fit of laughter, the tension in the air finally seeming to settle after everything that had just happened.

"I'm never letting Patrick and Jeremy write for that again." You giggled as Shayne rolled his eyes playfully. "I'm thankful for that, though."

"You are?" Shayne looked to you with brows furrowed, your heart melting at the concern on his face.

"Of course am.. I don't know how I didn't realize it sooner..." You laugh softly, your cheeks burning brightly, finding Shayne's face matching yours.

"Me either, honestly. We're dumb." He laughed, resting his forehead against yours, your heart racing.

"Idiots, actually. Idiots in love." You spoke, Shayne sighing softly as his hand cupped your cheek softly, his lips lightly brushing yours.

"Shayne!"

You jump back a bit, a smile across Shayne's lips before he quickly presses them to yours, your eyes fluttering shut as he issed you gently.

Just as quickly as it happened, he pulled away, turning over his shoulder to see Damien waving him back into the room. You lean to the side, peeking around Shayne as Damien gasps, holding his hands up quickly as he notices you.

"Shit, I'm sorry! Take your time!" The purple haired man called out an apology before disappearing back onto the set, filled with embarrassment.

"Shayne," You called to him, a grin spreading across his face as he turned back to you. "I love you, seriously."

"I know." He chuckled, stroking your cheek gently. "I love you, too."

courtney dragged you from your desk chair and over to the studio. "i'm not even scheduled to be in this video, court!" you protested.

"yes you are! there's been a change of plans," they said with a smile, "amanda can't make it, so you're filling in!"

you groaned, "okay, okay!" you pulled away from her with your hands up, showing that you wouldn't run if she let you go.

the smosh games table was surrounded. angela, empty seat, arasha, chanse, spencer, empty seat, and shayne. you and courtney took your seats, filling the two unoccupied chairs - yours between chanse and shayne, and courtney's between angela and arasha. you gasped when you saw the cards on the table.

"love is blind! this is one of my favorite games!" you said happily. everybody giggled and you didn't miss the way shayne curled his lips up at you with that sweet smile of his.

"okay, let's get started. before we start the video, does everybody know how to play this game?" courtney asked the table. everybody nodded. all of us had already played at one point or another when hanging around at the office.

they gave us the signal that we were recording, and courtney didn't hesitate to start the video.

"i'm here to find love. and we all are here to find love," courtney began, almost awkwardly. "have you watched love is blind? no? doesn't matter. we're gonna play it today and we're gonna show you what love is all about," she said with purpose, despite slurring their words just a bit. they continued on to explain how the game works to the audience.

you couldn't help that your eyes kept wandering to shayne, and you hoped it wouldn't be too obvious, atleast to the camera. but shayne knew you. and he met your gaze every time he caught you staring. he smiled at you. sometimes even giggled a bit. one time, he had even winked, which got a big laugh out of you. the outburst had gotten you in trouble, though, so he made a mental note to not do that in the middle of a video again... despite how much it amused him.

this time, however, he was all in. he mouthed words to you that you weren't sure you translated correctly.

i am... going to... marry.... chanse...?

well, maybe you were right on that one. he would pull something goofy like that for a video, no doubt.

part of you was tempted to bite back, foil his plan and convince chanse to marry you instead... but you decided to see how the game starts before figuring out your game plan.

once courtney had finished the intro of the video, you spoke up, "i'm so ready to be married," you looked around the table, the faces of your friends all ready to play the game, "i'm just, like, ready to meet... the one, you know?" you exaggerated a smile.

"he's out there," arasha responded with a nod.

"or she," you added.

"or they," chanse blurted out with a happy-go-lucky smile on his face.

"this is so exciting," angela clasped her hands together and repeated, "this is so exciting."

"i like that you did that twice," courtney pointed at angela, and angela pointed back with a nod.

"so who are our contestants today?" courtney smiled as they looked around.

before anybody else could speak, chanse went ahead with his introduction. "hi, i'm chanse. i'm twenty-two years old." okay, so we're going for characters today. "i'm here to find love, i'm looking for someone to laugh with," his smile stayed wide as he spoke, "i'm looking for someone who i don't get into fights with, we do not yell," he stated.

"good luck, honey," angela laughed, and so did the rest of the table. all except shayne, who seemed to be... getting into character? maybe?

but to your surprise, he was the first to speak up next. "hi, i'm shayne. i'm thirty-two, and i work in d-" he stuttered, "digital media." he flashed a goofy side smile, the same ones that guys make when they're trying too hard to flirt.

he continues, "and i do believe that love is blind... i've had a lot of bad luck in the past, but you know..." he chuckles, "that's okay. that's - it's... not my fault," he gives an almost painful smile to the camera.

"oh -" courtney replies, shocked. the rest of you laugh.

"it's okay," shayne repeats, but this time, he mimics putting eyedrops in his eyes. everybody cheers with a little more laughter, "it's just... it's just been really hard," shayne continues before laughing along.

aside from the dramatics, you noticed that shayne didn't seem to be playing a part like chanse was. you'll investigate that later...

soon, courtney changes the subject, deciding it was time for her to introduce herself next. "hi, i'm courtney," they say in an excitable tone, "i'm twenty-one years old," she giggles.

another character.

"i have been dating for too long," she says as she explains that she's ready to settle down.

"incredible," angela slurs her words as she holds up the wine glass in front of her. a character.

finally, you introduce yourself. you give your real age instead of a fake one, but you hadn't decided just yet if there was any character you'd be playing.

next, angela held up her empty wine glass again, "hey, i'm angela, i was the one who was overserved by a couple of p.a.'s in the back," she slurs. "i work in media digital, and i also have a fabric brand that i'm trying to soft launch..." she smiles as she fakes intoxication, "but i'm here for love!" she clarifies..

"hey everybody, my name's arasha," the spotlight shifts over to arasha, who speaks in a sickly sweet tone of voice, "i'm twenty... just turned twenty," she smiles innocently.

"okay, she's the youngest at the table," you say tauntingly. arasha gives you a look that says 'watch it,' but you only giggle in response. "also, you can't drink, someone take that wine glass away from her!" you point across the table accusingly.

angela attempts to reach over, but feigns drunkenness and can't seem to reach the glass in time. arasha swipes it, "we're filming this in europe," she clarifies loudly. all of you give each other looks that say 'we are not letting that slide' as you laugh together.

arasha continues in the same exaggerated voice she was once using before, "i work in graphic design, and i do believe that love is gay."

you, chanse, and courtney all gasp before laughing along, "it's blind," chanse says loudly.

"excuse me," arasha apologizes as she sits up straight.

now that introductions were finally out of the way, angela decides to start the game. she reads from the first card she picked up. "'what might be on your bucket list? a, climbing mount. everest. b, starting a family. c, becoming financially independent.'"

"you sound hot, arasha says to angela, as if she can't see her... like there's wall blocking the two of them from seeing each other. "are you sleepy?"

instead of responding, angela just says, "the rosé they have in the girl's room is crazy!"

"that's not rose, honey," you say to angela, and courtney continues, "that's toilet water..."

arasha and shayne laugh along as chanse organizes the cards on the table again. as he does so, angela speaks in her own voice again, not the overexaggerated drunk voice, which proves her to be sober in case her acting was a little too convincing. "my favorite on this show is the difference between the girl's rooms and the boy's rooms, where the girls are always journaling and doing yoga, while the boys are always playing pool."

courtney agrees, "always playing pool!" they exclaim, and arasha nods her head in agreement.

you look over to shayne, laughing to yourselves as you acknowledge that neither of you have watched the show... and might possibly be the only two here who haven't.

finally, angela flips over her card to get the game back on track. "i voted for financially independent," she announces as her card has a large c in the middle.. she flips over five more cards, all from the rest of you, and reads them aloud.

c, b, c, b, b. one point with chanse. one point with shayne.

courtney and arasha raise their hands as they twirl their hair, letting angela know that they matched with her. you, however, placed a b, meaning that you voted for starting a family.

when you go to grab your card from the middle, shayne goes to grab his at the same time. your hands brush against each other, reflexively looking at each other before you quickly averted your gaze to look anywhere else but him.

as chanse grabs his card, his voice lowers about three octaves as he says, "i care about families..."

shayne continues his joke, "i'm vin diesel, i care about family." and the three of you laugh together, while the other three at the table don't seem to be listening.

"okay but what about mount. everest?"

"that's stupid," shayne says as the others talk.

"climb it!" arasha says again.

"are you sure?" courtney asks arasha.

"that's fucking stupid," shayne says again, and you laugh with him, both of you looking at each other with creased eyes and big smiles, while everybodies attention seemed to be on angela.

"you guys ever heard of the climb by miley cyrus?" arasha announces, which brings more laughter from you and shayne, while also getting some giggles from the rest of the table as well.

moving on, arasha grabs a new card and begins to read it out loud, "'how often do you read? a, do articles online count? b, i pick up my book, but end up watching tv. c, i'm a total bookworm.'"

once everybody makes their decisions and puts their cards down, arasha continues. "i have to tell you the truth, i pick up my book..." she turns her card over to reveal a giant b on the face of it, "but i end up watching tv."

everybody gasps, and chanse turns his card over to show another b. "i also pick up my book, but end up watching tv..."

courtney repeats the line again as she flips her card to show yet another b, then follows angela as she slurs on her words a bit, also adding in a little mention of her fabric company.

finally, you flip your card to show a c, something different than the others had, and say, "i love reading, what can i say," you smile.

shayne flips his card to show a letter matching yours, "i also love reading. i read a lot," he flashes a smug smirk on his face.

second point with shayne.

"what's your fabric?" courtney asks angela.

angela responds with a name she just made up in her head, '1-800-fabrik-girlie', then proceeds to double down that she's only here for love.

arasha looks to the camera, and as if it's a confessional, and says, "honestly, if i have to hear about the fabric one more time, i'm going to lose my shit. also, this girl consistently drinks toilet water."

everybody laughs, then angela straightens up and plays her confessional. "if i have to hear this girl brag about being the youngest here again, i'm going to lose my mind. also, she doesn't know i'm putting tequila in the toilet water."

without skipping a beat, shayne turns to face the camera for yet another confessional. "i can't see them but i can tell that they're all idiots."

the group of you laugh together, and you fall into shayne with your head on his shoulder as giggles escape you. he almost embraces it before he can think. he loved your laugh, he loved when you doubled over, hiding your face in his shoulder or at his chest while he laughed along with you.

but you were filming, and this wasn't a time where he could test how far he could go when touching you. normally, he'd put his arm around you, pull you in closer, tease you while you laughed. maybe he'd even trace his fingers along your arm and see if he can feel the chills rise on your skin in response. and he usually could.

the video continued on, and you laughed with the rest of the group, but what stood out to you were the little moments you and shayne had when nobody else was paying attention. the jokes and jabs you both would say. when nobody else was listening, atleast shayne would be.

a while into the game and courtney was proposing to angela. everybody checked their points out loud, and when it came time for you to read yours, you realized that you had a whole ten points with shayne, whereas you only had a maximum of seven with the others. shayne also noticed this, but gave it a few more rounds before deciding how to proceed with his game.

a few more questions pass by, and after getting another two out of three points aligned with you, shayne stood up.

"i would like to propose," shayne said dramatically. everybody gasped. your first thought was chanse. after all, he did say he was going to before the game even started. and shayne was never one to be too serious. you looked next to you, smiling at chanse... but shayne didn't say his name. he said yours.

quickly, you turned around to shayne where he was already on his feet, ring in hand, ready to get down on one knee.

as much as it made your little heart actually do flips, you kept your cool, gasping exaggeratingly for the sake of the video. "me?" you exclaimed with a beaming smile.

you got up and fluttered over to shayne, "well i'll be, this can't be true! mother, i've found me a male suitor," you looked somewhere behind the camera, waving to your imaginary mother in the crowd.

shayne winced with a laugh, as the rest of the group exaggerated their oooh's and ahhhh's.

finally, he knelt down on one knee and held up a plastic ring with both hands. he called your name, "will you marry me?" he asked dramatically.

you felt the blush that tried to creep onto your face. 'it's just a video,' you reminded yourself. but that only helped so much. you laughed, nodding in response. "oh, by golly! i'm getting married!" you said as if you were a woman on a 60's black and white television show. you curtsied your imaginary dress and let shayne place the ring on your finger.

"24 karat," shayne said as if he was trying to convince you, and you giggled.

"i wouldn't have accepted if it wasn't," you winked, playing as if you were only after the money.

the rest of the video played out as can be expected, with lots of jokes, laughs, some yelling and screaming, and more.

when everybody started to pack up to head home for the evening, shayne found you fairly quickly.

"hey..."

you looked up at him, "hey," you smiled sweetly.

"the video, uh... it was fun," he started awkwardly.

shit, what happened? you must have done something wrong. fuck. abandon ship, abandon ship!

but you only nodded, "yeah."

"well i was, um, thinking... i mean, i know it's just some silly card game, but the way we kept getting the same answers so many times got me thinking..."

you stopped putting things into your bag and stood up, finally coming face to face with him. "what?" you asked, urging for him to continue.

"i just mean.. well, i've never felt more myself than when i'm with you. it's been like that for a while, but i didn't really let myself think about it for too long... until now. and i've always had this feeling of wanting to be closer to you, i guess? and... ah, fuck," he tried to continue, but gave up. he couldn't seem to find the right words.

you were about to speak up, to encourage him to keep going, that he was doing great. but before you could, his hand rested on your waist and he gently pulled you towards him. his lips met yours and your hands went up to meet the sides of his face. his other hand met the other side of your waist, and the feeling of his thumb brushing over your almost-exposed skin where your shirt began to ride up sent shivers down your spine.

when you finally pulled away, his lips followed yours before he finally pulled himself away, too. your eyes met, and you couldn't help but notice how pretty his eyes were - especially from where you currently stood - and you never wanted to be further away from them than this ever again.

your foreheads rested against each other when shayne finally broke the comfortable silence, "can i maybe take you on a date sometime, my fair lady?" he poked fun at the 60's television woman that you played earlier.

you giggled. "i'd love that," you smiled before kissing him again.

"let's hurry, i've got to go and tell momma before it gets too dark out! oh, she'll be worried sick!" you feigned, grabbing your bag as you dashed through the office and out the door. shayne hurried to keep up with you, laughing as you both raced to his car.

the two of you usually carpooled to and from work together, since you only lived a few streets away from him.

on the way back to your place, the car ride was full of laughter, music, obnoxiously loud singing, and sometimes even subtle skin-to-skin contact that sent shivers through you (and him).

finally arriving at your apartment, you got out of his car and waved goodbye. you both said goodnight to each other, and you lingered at the car window for a moment as you hesitated walking away.

"tomorrow," shayne shouted with a small smile as you were almost at the door.

you looked behind you, "tomorrow!" you shouted back before closing your door and locking it.

you smiled wide with your back against the front door, and you sighed happily. a million thoughts were already running through your mind, what would you wear? what time? should he pick you up or meet you there? but only one of your thoughts stood out the most.

Being a single woman trying to get lucky on the dating scene fucking sucks. 

I’ve lost count of how many dates I’ve gone on in the last couple of months, let alone how many times I’ve swiped and matched on the apps. 

It was like there’s only two types of men: the ones that are down right creepy from the beginning and the ones that are nice at first, have a nice conversation on the app and then turn into creeps when you finally meet them face to face. 

And of course tonight’s date was the latter. 

I gotta admit that my first intentions with Trevor were downright carnal, dude looked like he was an Abercrombie & Fitch model, straight out of the catalogue. He likes to cook, loves animals, sports and seems to be a family guy. You know, the perfect dude, prince charming himself. 

Turns out prince charming had a daddy kink and wanted me to call him by his honorific on our first date. Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against it, but c’mon, would it hurt to have a normal conversation first and then ask if I was up to it? (Probably wouldn’t say no, to be honest.)

I called it off when he started to push it. 

So of course I wouldn’t waste the time I spent getting dolled up. This dress makes my curves look too good to be at home on a saturday night, so I decided to go bar hopping. 

And it looks like so did Trevor, because this is the third bar that I go to and he shows up just a few minutes later. He hasn’t approached me yet, only keeps staring at me. 

Add mega creep to the list. 

I’m not going to lie, I’m getting a little uncomfortable (and scared). 

I look around to see if I can find the nearest restroom, which is crowded and impossible to get in, but I do end up spotting a very cute guy sitting alone. 

Okay, it’s now or never, I hope he doesn’t think I’m a weirdo. 

“Hi! Look, I’ve just left a super weird date and the dude is following me. This is actually the third bar I’ve been to after it and he keeps coming after me. Could you please pretend to know me for a little while so he leaves? He is by the door looking at us.” I spoke so fast that I’m out of breath. 

The guy in front of me is beautiful. Glistening terracotta skin, chocolate brown eyes, broad shoulders and the perfect amount of muscles. His forehead is scrunched, and I can see it relaxing slowly as he takes in my words. 

“Oh god, of course!” He says as he gestures to the chair in front of him. “I’m Ricky.” 

I give him my name as I sit down. Awkward silence engulfs us and we exchange even more awkward smiles. 

“He’s at the bar now… still staring at us.” Ricky says after a while. 

“Jesus… I’m never going on dates again.” I groan. 

“Was it that bad?” 

“He wanted me to call him ‘daddy’ instead of his name. On our first date.” 

“Oh, baby, I am so sorry.” Ricky’s apology seems legit. “I think we need some drinks.” He says and calls the waiter as I nod in agreement.

He orders a couple of tequila shots for us and some beer to wash it down. 

“Thank you by the way, Ricky.”

“No problem.” We clink our shot glasses and down the tequila before he continues, “So, daddy huh?”

“Right?!”

Ricky laughs at my incredulous face. 

“Look, nothing against it, it’s cool and all, to be honest I’m more of a sir girl–“ 

Ricky laughs again, this time spitting a bit of his beer. 

“Anyways that’s not the point, that’s not what I signed up for on the first date.”

“And what did you sign up for?” He asks, a sweet but playful smile adorning his face. 

“His profile said he likes to cook, is into animals and he seemed like a family oriented guy, you know, the basics to make any stupid woman crazy.”

I can see Ricky holding his laughter, which makes me cry-laugh.

“Ugh, I know how pathetic it sounds, but being a woman trying to get on the dating scene is just so bad.”

“I don’t think it’s pathetic, you’re beautiful and from the little we’ve talked, I can see you’re funny and a genuinely nice person. He’s the fucking weirdo.”

Ricky’s little speech leaves me speechless and I can feel my cheeks heating. 

I thank him with a small smile and I know he gets it when he tilts his beer bottle towards me as a nod before drinking. 

“Sooo,” I say before awkward silence falls between us again “what brings you here tonight? Any hot dates?”

“Nope.”

“Girlfriend waiting at home?”

“Nope.”

Ricky’s tone of voice changed to something a little slicker, like he wanted to let me in on something. Can’t deny that it didn’t awaken the butterflies that had been long asleep in my stomach, because it did. Oh, how it did. 

“So what are you doing here?” I say as I change to a more comfortable position, crossing my legs. Ricky licks his lips. 

“Just wanted to chill and visit some old, familiar places here at home before going on tour again.”

“Oh, so you travel a lot?”

“A bit, yeah.”

“So what do you do? Are you like, a rockstar or something?”

Ricky laughs again, and I’m starting to think that I’d never get tired of listening to his laughter. 

“I'm a pro wrestler.” He answers and for some reason, he seems shy, like I’d be weirded out by the answer. 

“Dude! Ricky, that’s so cool!”

“You think so?”

“Of course!”

We talk some more, he tells me about his accomplishments and I insist on searching his matches. Ricky asks me about what I do and we laugh about how my boring office job has nothing on his super cool one. 

We talk for what felt like hours, we laugh until we cry about and we even exchange numbers. 

Our conversation is interrupted when a shadow suddenly approaches us. Trevor. 

“Can I help you?” Ricky asks Trevor. 

“Him? Really? I thought we had something.” Trevor completely dismisses Ricky and turns to me. 

“Oh, that was our first AND only date. We never had nothing and we never will.”

Before Trevor opens up his mouth, Ricky stands, squaring him up. 

“You heard her. Now take your shit and leave.” Ricky says, the tone of his voice is completely different from what I listened to the whole night. 

Trevor grunts and makes his way out in silence, not daring to look back. 

I sigh. 

“Thank you, Ricky. You really didn’t have to do any of this, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Ricky says as he squeezes my hand. 

“I think I should probably go.”

“I’ll take you home.” He says, getting up with me.

I stop him. “You really don’t have to. I live like, a couple of blocks away from here. I’ll just walk home.”

“Yes I do. You don’t know if that weirdo is waiting outside. Besides, I don’t live that far from here either. And to be honest? It’ll be boring without you here.”

I nod and smile. “Okay then, let’s go.”

Ricky pays for our bills, even though I protest, saying that I could have paid for my share. 

The walk home is quiet, the silence only being broken by Ricky asking where we should turn. We walk side by side, too close for two people who have just met, hands brushing lightly, his right arm going around my waist as we pass by the too crowded entrance of another bar. 

“So, this is me.” I say as I stopped by my building’s door. 

“Really?” Ricky asks, laughing. 

“Yeah, what’s so funny?”

“This is me too.” He says, pulling out the familiar key card that opened the main door. 

“Really?” It was my turn to ask and laugh. 

“So each one are you at?” he asks as we walk through the lobby. 

“804. You?”

“604.”

The ride is faster than expected, and we spent it laughing at the coincidence. 

The elevator stops, and the visor reads “6th”. 

“So, I guess this is me.” Ricky says as the door opens. He stands right by it so it doesn’t close. 

“”Thank you again, Ricky. I really can’t thank you enough.”

“I don’t want to overstep, but breakfast tomorrow?”

“I would love to.”

“Deal. I know where to find you. See ya..”

“See ya..”