Sturnluv

you can feel matt’s eyes on you, and it only eggs you on. you want him to bend and break, you want him to make the next move. you’re tired of this overplayed coy, timid act he’s got going on. the constant reminder of the fact that you “can’t cross that line.” every time you get even a fraction closer to being more than friends. you don’t care about the consequences, you just want him. you glance over at matt, your hands trailing down your body, following behind dean’s and you grin, watching as matt’s jaw ticks.

matt feels like his blood is boiling, his jaw ticking as your eyes meet his, a sly grin splitting your lips as chris hands matt a drink. grabbing the drink and downing it without hesitation matt looks at chris, who just laughs.

“you good man?”

matt, a man of few words just looks to his brother, the red solo cup cracking beneath matt’s grip and shrugs.

“dude i’ve never been better.” matt grunts, tossing the cup aside before turning to chris.

“who is she with right now?”

“some hockey player, dean something. he plays out in hastings from some rich ass school.” chris hums, finding the way matt’s eyes can’t leave your figure alone both amusing and a little pathetic.

“noted, i can’t kick his ass.” matt laughs, his chest tightening just slightly as you start walking toward the brothers, three twist off beer bottles in one hand and sealed jell-o shots in the other.

“peace offering?” you chuckle, throwing a pointed smirk in matt’s direction. chris laughs to himself, snagging a beer and shot from your hands before sauntering off toward the next pretty little thing he dips into the crowd. you had matt his drink and shot, smiling softly.

“so how’s dean?” matt quips, the sour taste on his tongue is noticed by you, and you can’t help but laugh before throwing back your jell-o shot.

“he’s great. amazing dancer.” you hum, twisting off the lid to your beer, watching as matt shakes his head, an internal battle between saying something about the guy or kissing you waging war in his mind.

“you really are unbelievable, y’know that?” he mutters, his body slowly gravitating towards yours as you watch him, as you watch the blue of his eyes slowly cloud over.

“matt.” you mutter back, your posture stiffening just slightly as his hand moves to take the beer from your hand, setting it on the island next to him.

“no, i’m serious, you run around, toying with all these guys in front of me like whatever we’ve got going on doesn’t mean anything.”

“only because you won’t swallow your pride and do something. i mean c’mon matt, i’ve done just about everything except get on my knees and beg for you to commit to this!” you exclaim, gesturing between the two of you.

“i mean that could be arranged.” matt grins down at you, his hands shifting to your hips, pushing you back against the counter just slightly as you roll your eyes, though despite the weight to the conversation you were having, there was so real malice behind it.

“shut up, but this is what i mean, you’re fine with the flirting and the touching and the almost kisses, but you don’t put any real momentum behind anything.” you sigh, looking at him and sliding your hand around the back of his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of it.

“do you want me to? because i’m done playing around, y/n.” matt whispers, leaning down to whisper the words against your lips and that single question has your breath hitching as he gently twirled the ends of your hair around the tips of his fingers, his breath fanning against yours.

“yes. god, yes.”

and that was all it took for matt to slide his hand to the back of your neck, his palm heavy and warm against you as he claimed your lips with his own. the kiss was something rough and fierce, years of pining and yearning pouring into each push and pull. his hands, usually cold, steady, and still were warm and trembling but still so sure of each touch and brush against every of skin he could find.

matt’s tongue pressing against yours has your breathing catching in your throat and you pull him closer to you and twist the front of his shirt in your grip. you’re not sure who pulls away first, but the look in your eyes has matt’s hand sliding from the back of your neck to the column of your throat before he grips your throat in a soft but firm manner, pulling you into him again. this time, the kiss is much less rough than before but all the more urgent.

and as your lips move against his with the same desperate, needy fervour, all you can think and worry about is what’s to come of this.

but for right now, you focus your mind on exactly what’s happening because you’ve waited so long to finally cross that line with matt, and you’re not gonna let something fuck it up….or will you be the one to fuck things up?

you can feel matt’s eyes on you, and it only eggs you on. you want him to bend and break, you want him to make the next move. you’re tired of this overplayed coy, timid act he’s got going on. the constant reminder of the fact that you “can’t cross that line.” every time you get even a fraction closer to being more than friends. you don’t care about the consequences, you just want him. you glance over at matt, your hands trailing down your body, following behind dean’s and you grin, watching as matt’s jaw ticks.

matt feels like his blood is boiling, his jaw ticking as your eyes meet his, a sly grin splitting your lips as chris hands matt a drink. grabbing the drink and downing it without hesitation matt looks at chris, who just laughs.

“you good man?”

matt, a man of few words just looks to his brother, the red solo cup cracking beneath matt’s grip and shrugs.

“dude i’ve never been better.” matt grunts, tossing the cup aside before turning to chris.

“who is she with right now?”

“some hockey player, dean something. he plays out in hastings from some rich ass school.” chris hums, finding the way matt’s eyes can’t leave your figure alone both amusing and a little pathetic.

“noted, i can’t kick his ass.” matt laughs, his chest tightening just slightly as you start walking toward the brothers, three twist off beer bottles in one hand and sealed jell-o shots in the other.

“peace offering?” you chuckle, throwing a pointed smirk in matt’s direction. chris laughs to himself, snagging a beer and shot from your hands before sauntering off toward the next pretty little thing he dips into the crowd. you had matt his drink and shot, smiling softly.

“so how’s dean?” matt quips, the sour taste on his tongue is noticed by you, and you can’t help but laugh before throwing back your jell-o shot.

“he’s great. amazing dancer.” you hum, twisting off the lid to your beer, watching as matt shakes his head, an internal battle between saying something about the guy or kissing you waging war in his mind.

“you really are unbelievable, y’know that?” he mutters, his body slowly gravitating towards yours as you watch him, as you watch the blue of his eyes slowly cloud over.

“matt.” you mutter back, your posture stiffening just slightly as his hand moves to take the beer from your hand, setting it on the island next to him.

“no, i’m serious, you run around, toying with all these guys in front of me like whatever we’ve got going on doesn’t mean anything.”

“only because you won’t swallow your pride and do something. i mean c’mon matt, i’ve done just about everything except get on my knees and beg for you to commit to this!” you exclaim, gesturing between the two of you.

“i mean that could be arranged.” matt grins down at you, his hands shifting to your hips, pushing you back against the counter just slightly as you roll your eyes, though despite the weight to the conversation you were having, there was so real malice behind it.

“shut up, but this is what i mean, you’re fine with the flirting and the touching and the almost kisses, but you don’t put any real momentum behind anything.” you sigh, looking at him and sliding your hand around the back of his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of it.

“do you want me to? because i’m done playing around, y/n.” matt whispers, leaning down to whisper the words against your lips and that single question has your breath hitching as he gently twirled the ends of your hair around the tips of his fingers, his breath fanning against yours.

“yes. god, yes.”

and that was all it took for matt to slide his hand to the back of your neck, his palm heavy and warm against you as he claimed your lips with his own. the kiss was something rough and fierce, years of pining and yearning pouring into each push and pull. his hands, usually cold, steady, and still were warm and trembling but still so sure of each touch and brush against every of skin he could find.

matt’s tongue pressing against yours has your breathing catching in your throat and you pull him closer to you and twist the front of his shirt in your grip. you’re not sure who pulls away first, but the look in your eyes has matt’s hand sliding from the back of your neck to the column of your throat before he grips your throat in a soft but firm manner, pulling you into him again. this time, the kiss is much less rough than before but all the more urgent.

and as your lips move against his with the same desperate, needy fervour, all you can think and worry about is what’s to come of this.

but for right now, you focus your mind on exactly what’s happening because you’ve waited so long to finally cross that line with matt, and you’re not gonna let something fuck it up….or will you be the one to fuck things up?