#borhap joe

“It’s almost midnight.” Joe juts his chin out, looking at you incredulously. “You have to care about where I’ve been, damn it!”

You’re about to snap too, tell him that acting is not your thing, but the sound of a door opening stops you. 

“Whoa, hey.” Ben steps out of his room, glasses perched delicately on his nose. “I’m trying to study.”

“And so are we.” Joe retorts. 

Hardly. You’re only filling in for one play that your college was organising. You really didn’t want to, but participation is a big deal and you’re not going to slack in any area, no sir. This is just something you have to do.

“Keep it down,” your roommate hisses. “These definite integrals are hell.”

Joe scoffs. “Okay, electrical engineering.”

Ben doesn’t leave before flipping Joe the bird, but once the moment to his bedroom door is shut, Joe turns his attention back to you. “Okay.” He turns his eyes to the ceiling, presumably to work out a plan for what to do about your predicament. 

You’re busy picking at the aglet of your converse when Joe exclaims, “Yes!” You watch as he makes his way towards where you were sat on the couch.

Crouching in front of you, he begins, “We’re friends, aren’t we?” His hands come to lay flat on your thighs, sending a wave of electricity through your body.

You nod, letting his eyes make direct contact with yours. 

“Close your eyes for a minute.”

You do.

“And imagine we’re a couple.”

“Oh, no.” Your eyes are open within an instant, looking at Joe, alarmed.

“Hey!” he holds up his hands in defence. “I didn’t think the idea disgusted you that much.” He looks down at his feet, scoffing lightly. 

“No!” you’re quick to respond, twisting your hands together in your lap.

Joe nods, waiting for you to back your answer with some more substance. When you don’t, he asks, “And?”

“Huh?”

“No, what?” He shakes his head. “No, you’re really sweet; no, it’s not like that… no?”

“It’s not like that.” your response is weak. 

Truth is, the idea of dating Joe isn’t disgusting to you at all. Not one bit. It’s almost a little tempting, letting him know how you really feel.

But you’ve been burnt in the past, you’ve been hurt. Your previous attempts at confessing to crushes have gone sideways many times, and you’re not sure if you’re ready to put yourself out on the fire like that. Yet again. 

Joe exhales shakily, using the support of his hands on his thighs to stand up. He holds out a hand to you, prompting you to get up with him. “Is it okay if we pretend to be a couple?”

You nod firmly, not letting a single bit of hesitation seep through. But when Joe takes one step towards you, his hot breath fanning your face now, you wonder if you should have simply said no.

Joe’s lips land on yours in one smooth motion. They’re soft. Joe’s grip on your hand gets just a little more firm. But before you can respond to his kiss, he’s pulled away already, grabbing the script from your other hand and handing you his.

“Let’s switch roles,” he says quickly, turning to sit down on the couch. “You come home at midnight, and I’ll show you how a doting boyfriend would respond.”

“Isn’t acting interpretative? Maybe my interpretation about a loving relationship is different from yours.” There isn’t any real meaning behind your accusation, and you make your way towards the door to ‘come home at midnight’ anyway.

Despite having practiced the scene several times, you still have to look at your-- Joe’s script to find out what you have to do. Joe’s character - Sam - doesn’t really have many lines. It’s just a few grunts and mumbles while your character - Anna - does all the talking. 

“It’s midnight, where the hell were you?” 

Whoa. He’s taking his liberties with expanding on the dialogues, you realise. The conviction is strong with his dialogue. It really feels like you’re his girlfriend. Like he’s really worried about you after you’ve come home late. And it makes your stomach do a little flip, because, damn, is this what it would feel like to have Joe as a boyfriend? 

“Just out,” you try your hardest to match your acting skills with Joe’s, but that’s a losing battle. Half the time you’re really only focusing on Joe, watching how he takes the dialogue and makes a scene out of it.

“Out?” Joe stands up, his eyes flitting over his script briefly before looking back up at you, and you can swear you can see a flash of rage in his eyes. “I called your work.” He put his hand on his hip. “They said you left hours ago.”

Joe’s fingers were slender, the tips pressing into the fabric of his shirt. You’d very much like to smoothen out the wrinkles in his shirt.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Dialogue,” he sings, his shoulder sagging. 

Your script falls to the floor as you bring your hands to your forehead. “Oh my god.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Joe is quick to rush to your side, putting a gentle hand on your lower back. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do this,” you whisper, looking at Joe through the corner of your eye. 

“Oh,” he mumbles, not sure what to do for just a second. “Um, sit down?” He slowly guides you to the couch, sitting a considerable distance away from you. 

You know what comes next in the script. Sam apologises to Anna after realising how worried she was, and they kiss. They kiss. And if you’re going to be acting it out with Joe, you’re not sure you can handle it.

Even then, you’re trying to keep it under control. He can’t see why you’re so upset about such a simple thing. So when Joe looks at you questioningly, you only shake your head vigorously, reaching for the water bottle you’d placed on the coffee table.

“Look,” Joe begins, his voice gentle, “I get that you’re not an actor. And I get that this is a difficult task for you.” He goes on once you nod. “Are you sure you can’t pull out of the gig?”

“I’m sure,” you state, even though you’re not. You really want this extra credit, and you were going to get it. 

“Okay. Maybe we can try practicing another day. You’re tired. Aren’t you?” Joe hooks two fingers under your chin to get you to look at him. You can see the concern in his eyes, you can see that he cares about you and wants you to be okay. “You should get some sleep.”

“What if I do horribly?” Your question is meek. You almost already know the answer, but you still have to ask.

“You won’t.” Joe’s hand moves from your chin to your shoulder, squeezing once. “You have me, remember?” He smiles, wide and goofy, and for a minute you forget about the impending doom that’s going to come during your dress rehearsal. “I’ll get you whipped up for the role in no time!” He snaps his fingers.

You can’t help but giggle softly. 

“Sleepytime?” He asks, putting his hand on your back to guide you to stand up. 

But you don’t. You nod, and shuffle closer to Joe, putting your head on his shoulder. “Can you, um, can you call Lucy and tell her you’re staying over?”

“What?”

“I want you to stay.” You look up at him through your eyelashes, heart beating fast lest he says no. “Please?”

“Of course. Of course, sweetheart,” Joe whispers. His next words are a shout, “Yo, Ben!”

“A heads-up would’ve been nice,” you snap, rolling your eyes.

Joe grimaces, shouting again. “Benjamin!” 

Ben’s bedroom door opens immediately, with your roommate storming out, one airpod in his hand, the other in his ear. “What?” he hisses.

“Call Lucy and tell her I’m sleeping over.”

Ben cocks his head to the side. “I didn’t ask you to sleep over.” That’s when his eyes fully take in the visual in front of him. “Oh. Oh.” He smirks, “Okay. I’ll tell her you’re sleeping with Y/N tonight.”

Ben looks like he’s about to say something else, but a hot look from both you and Joe shuts him right up. He holds up his hands in defence, muttering, “I’ll let Lucy know,” before heading back into his room.

As soon as he’s gone, you turn to look at Joe, still leaning on him. “You’re sleeping with me tonight.” You wiggle your eyebrows and give him your best goofy eyes, and it looks like it works, because Joe’s face breaks into a smile and he shakes his head fondly.

“Can’t wait,” he whispers back with equal goofiness.

No more words are exchanged as Joe holds your hand to lead you to your room, waiting for you to change, and then tucks you into bed. As he slides into bed next to you - now changed into one of Ben’s shirts and a pair of sweatpants - you simply have to peep at him, watching as he lays down slowly, putting his hands on his chest. 

His chest rises and falls slowly, and you can see, even in the dark, he blinks. 

The logical part of your brain has no time to stop your heart before you’re reaching up to run a hand through his hair. 

Joe lets out a sharp breath, turning his body towards you and offering better access to his hair. “You’re not asleep?”

You say nothing. Joe can feel the tips of your fingers on his scalp, and it sends a wave of relaxation through him. Hesitantly, he asks, “Do you want to get closer?”

You wordlessly shuffle closer to him, your free hand reaching around his body. You can still play with his hair. And now, Joe can play with yours. You can tell why he likes it - it is very relaxing.

“I like sleeping with you,” you whisper, “just like this.”

Joe giggles softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “Me too. Just like this.”

You’re not sure which one of you falls asleep first. Just that it’s a very relaxing night for you. And that when you wake up, Joe is there to give you another kiss, this time on the lips. And that you kiss him back, mocking, “Just like this?”

“Yeah, like this too.” Joe sasses, still wrapped up in the high of kissing you.

You’re sure you don’t mind. You could spend night after night wrapped up in Joe’s arms, waking up to sleepy kisses. 

Just like this.

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

forever tags: @lv7867 @fatbottomedguys @unbound-chaos @bensrhapsody @mrsmazzello @cruelmooon @lovesaweed @spacedustmazzello @toomuchtellyneck @danadeacon @melinas-eyeliner @itsalreadybroken @suredontwannagohome @mexifangorl @classy-fangirl @johnmazello @a-kind-of-magik @hardyhoe68703 @killer-queen-xo @justmysicklypride​ @mymelancholyblu3s​ @brian-maybe-not​ 

also tagging @royally-rogers​ for good measure :)

The way he’d played with his fingers when he approached you, and the way he bit his lower lip while he waited for you to respond made it impossible for you to deny him. And honestly, the way Joe squeezed you into a hug when you said yes made you feel like it was worth it already. 

Picking out a dress was an awful process. You just couldn’t find one. So Joe insisted on coming with you to buy a new dress, and made sure to gas you up when you tried them on and showed him. When you finally landed on one -- a midi dress with flowers on it -- Joe made sure you knew how beautiful he thought you looked. 

You’d been standing outside your house for five minutes, waiting for Joe to come pick you up. When Joe finally did show up, instead of waiting for you to climb into the car, he got out himself, walking up to you. 

His tuxedo looked wonderful on him.

“Hey,” he breathed out, “You look so beautiful.”

“Thanks, Joey.” You giggled. “Shall we get going?”

The car ride was silent for the first half. It was only when you commented on the silence that Joe let you connect your phone to the car and use spotify to play some music. It was only when you and Joe started singing duets together that it started feeling like, yeah, you were spending time with your best friend.

The wedding was beautiful. Joe’s roommate from college was getting married, and Joe was one of the groomsmen. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have your eyes on Joe for a large part of the ceremony. 

It was only when the bride and groom took to the dance floor for their first dance that Joe came back to you. He’d spent the time socialising, catching up with old friends and acquaintances, and you’d admired his extroversion from your seat at the bar. 

“Sorry to keep you sitting here,” Joe apologised when he sat down next to you, casually putting his hand on top of yours. 

“No worries,” you said after you downed the remains of your drink. “I enjoyed myself.”

“Yeah?” Joe smiled, coking his head to the side, “How so?”

“Oh, just watching you. And the bride and groom. Them, mostly. You not so much.”

“Huh,” Joe smirked. By this time, a few other couples had started to dance. After taking a look towards them, Joe asked, “Wanna dance?”

“Eh.” 

“Oh, come on!” Joe huffed. He stood up from his stool, grabbing your hand and pulling you along with him.

You didn’t really have a chance to protest as Joe chose a spot on the dance floor for the both of you. You only stood passively as Joe wrapped one of his arms around your waist, using the other to grab yours. “This’ll be fun, Y/N,” he said as he began to sway, boring his eyes into yours.

You nodded, curling your arm tighter around his shoulder. “Definitely.”

“Wow, sarcastic much?”

“No, I mean it!” You shook your head. “Everything’s fun with you,” you said, dropping your voice.

“It is?” Joe beamed, standing up straighter.

“Yeah. Of course it is.”

After dancing quietly for a couple of moments, Joe spoke up. “Can I ask you something?” He went on when you nodded, “Why didn’t you want to dance with me?”

“What? When?” You asked, getting a little closer to Joe to hear him better. 

“Right now. You didn’t want to dance with me.”

“Oh, that’s- you know- we’re not, you know?”

Joe bit on his bottom lip, and looking at his expression, you were afraid you’d upset him. “We’re not what? I don’t know.”

“A couple,” you whispered, your vision trained on your and Joe’s feet that were moving back in forth in tiny steps. 

“Oh,” Joe said. He let go of your hand, instead wrapping it around your waist, pulling you tighter into him. You interlaced your fingers behind his neck, letting your forehead fall to his chest. 

Your heart was beating so fast. This was what had been bugging you for so long. You and Joe were not a couple. You were going to weddings and events as each other’s plus-ones, and you were just tired of all the pretending. It hurt to fake it.

And yet as these thoughts raced through your mind, your body was as close to Joe’s as possible, and you couldn’t feel more comfortable if you tried. Joe’s cheek was pressed to the side of your head, and you could hear his shallow breaths.

“I don’t care that we’re not a couple,” Joe whispered, right into your ear. 

“What?”

“I don’t care,” he said again, tightening his arms around you even further, which you didn’t think was possible. 

“I care, Joey. I don’t want to… I don’t want to pretend.” 

“Let’s not pretend.”

What?

When you tried to pull away to get a look at Joe’s face, Joe once again pulled you closer to him, not ready to let go. “Let’s not pretend, okay?”

“It’s not- you’re- what, Joe?”

“I want us to be a couple.” His voice trembled, almost like he was afraid. 

“We have to talk about this,” you finally said, dropping one hand to his lower back. 

“Let’s talk after this. I’ll take you out to ice cream.”

“Like a date?”

“Whatever.” 

You could tell Joe didn’t want to use his words. Maybe looking at your face and hearing you talk would help things out. 

“Okay. Whatever. Let’s go for ice cream, Joey.

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Peaceful mornings. Curled into Joe’s side, his heartbeat soft in your ears. His arms wrapped around your body, keeping you tucked into his chest. 

You had nowhere to be today. As your eyes finally opened with the intention of waking up, you brought one hand up to Joe’s torso, running your hands over the side of his neck. Joe let out a soft hum, shuffling around for a moment. Joe’s hand grabbed yours as you pulled it away. He interlaced your fingers, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles before letting your hand go.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he whispered, looking down at your face fondly. 

“Good morning, Joe.” You smiled back, leaning your head forward for Joe to give you a kiss on your forehead.

“You look comfortable,” Joe said, a slightly teasing tone to his voice.

You said nothing, instead choosing to bury your face into his neck, giving him soft kisses. 

“That feels good,” he said, knowing full well that your kisses were meant to be chaste. An act of love. “I hope you slept well,” he asked, shutting his eyes again. 

“I did,” you licked your lips, moving away from him. “I slept really well. Like, surprisingly well.”

“That may or may not have something to do with me,” Joe smirked, his voice still husky. 

Instead of keeping the banter going, you simply indulged him, nodding. “It has everything to do with you.” You wriggled out of his grip — ignoring Joe’s frown — and propped yourself up on your elbow a few inches away. “You were amazing. Are amazing.” And I love you.

“Be careful, Y/N, it’ll go to my head,” Joe said as he began sitting up, pushing the blanket away from himself. But I’ll love you for it. He cleared his throat, “Breakfast?”

“I think it can wait a little longer.” You mused, finding your way back to Joe’s side. Almost like you just couldn’t stay away. “I just want to stay here with you for a while.”

“As you wish, sweetheart.” Joe pressed his lips to the crown of your head, mumbling something incoherent into your hair. His hand lazily ran up and down your bare side, occasionally pressing his fingers into your skin. 

You could absolutely get used to this.

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It had been six minutes since you and Joe had gotten off at the airport. Joe’s suitcases had been loaded onto a baggage cart. His back faced you as Joe took his time in putting his jacket on, making sure the zipper was nice and tugged on. It was only then that he turned to look at you for the first time since getting out of the car.

His eyes were red, and his nose was beginning to take on a similar shade. 

“Joey?” You called softly, reaching out to touch his fingers.

Joe only looked up, giving you a wobbly smile.

“I’ll come visit soon.” You managed, trying to keep your cool. You knew that it would only make it worse for Joe if you were to break down in front of him. “I promise.” You intertwined your fingers with his, taking a step forward, entering his personal space.

Joe nodded profusely, closing his eyes for a brief second. When he opened them, they were glassed over, tears threatening to spill any moment. 

“We’ll be okay,” you cooed, bringing your free hand up to caress his cheek. You smiled when Joe leaned into your touch, watching as one tear finally rolled down his cheek. “We’ll be just fine.”

Joe shook his head this time, “Y/N,” he called, sounded utterly helpless, “I can’t— I don’t wa— I love you.”

“And I love you, Chunky Butt.” You bumped your nose against Joe’s, leaning in till your foreheads connected. Your nickname for him did nothing to soothe him, instead sending him further into tears.

“No, you’re making this harder,” he choked out, trying to keep his voice down. “You shouldn’t have come at all,” he whispered. He was gulping in air in an attempt to calm himself down, but it did nothing. 

You let go of his hand, bringing it to his other cheek. “I wanted to say goodbye.” You whispered, pressing your lips to his in one firm motion. 

“God, I hate this! I hate this so much,” Your boyfriend moaned, nuzzling into your neck. As you wrapped your arms around him, you sneaked a glance at your watch.

Against your instinct to keep Joe in your arms for as long as you could, you pulled him away. “You don’t wanna miss your flight.” 

Joe cleared his throat, letting you wipe the tears from his face. When you leaned in to kiss him one last time, Joe held onto you, mumbling against your lips, “I can’t wait till we’re finally living together.”

You wanted to say ‘me neither,’ but instead chose to say, “You go on, now. Play the shit outta all the guitars they give you, okay?” 

Joe finally laughed at that, stepping away. “I’ve become soft since meeting you.” 

“Oh, please.” You jested, “You love it.”

“Yeah, I do.” He flashed you a toothy grin, his face finally starting to brighten. “And you.”

Joe was out of sight within a few minutes, leaving you to slowly trudge back to your car. Your phone buzzed the moment your hands were on the wheel. It was a picture from Joe; a hershey’s kiss in the middle of his palm. His message said:

“Look what I’m having to make do with when you’re not there.”

You giggled, the prospect of being away from Joe feeling a tiiiny bit less shitty as you remembered how brilliant he was at making you feel loved — no matter where he was in the world.

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Ben was notorious for throwing the best raves. And best friend duties dictate that you have to go to each one. Ben had introduced you to Joe as soon as he’d met him himself, asking you to ‘mingle’ before rushing off to mingle himself. 

Joe was charming. He was beyond charming. He always knew what to say, when to say it and how to say it. Whatever he did always left you in a fit of giggles, and Joe smirking, satisfied. Over the course of the past three months, you’d managed to get closer to Joe than you’d thought possible.

You’d learned that he was a big Yankees fan. He loved corndogs and was also a certified Upstate Snob. 

And given his usual antics, you found yourself absolutely untaxed as he told you the story of how he once scaled the side of his aunt’s building at twenty. You were both in Ben’s kitchen. You were sitting cross-legged on the island, Joe fumbling around the kitchen to find bottle openers for your beers, slightly buzzed.

You chuckled, blinking softly, “Gimme,” you made grabby hands towards Joe, who scoffed before handing you a beer bottle. You expertly held it at the edge of the island, hitting the cap with your palm and popping the bottle open. 

Joe walked over, open-mouthed, mirroring your actions. He groaned when he was unable to open his bottle, handing it over to you with a side-eye. He climbed onto the counter and took the beer from your hand, lightly clinking it with yours. 

“It’s so nice,” he said after a few quiet sips.

“What is?” You put your hand behind you, leaning into it.

“You can open bottles with just your hands,” he punctuated his words with his index finger pressed to his thumb. You only giggled in response. “It’s true,” Joe continued.

“Sure, Joey,” you humoured him.

“You’re so good, ya know?” He sniffed, leaning into you, “You’re smart,” he whispered, “And really pretty. And— oh! And your hair is beautiful,” he smiled, tugging on a lock of your hair and letting it go, amused.

You exhaled sharply as Joe rested his head on your shoulder, sighing in satisfaction. You touched your head to his, your heartbeat picking up at Joe’s affirmations.

“Are you flirting with me, Mazzello?” You joked. You knew Joe was way out of your league.

Joe lifted his head to look at you, surprised, and for just a second, you wondered if you crossed a line. “You noticed?” He said softly, the corners of his lips curled up in a smile.

“Huh?” You shifted away from him, blinking, as if it would help you understand him better.

“God,” Joe rubbed the heel of his palm into his eye, “I’ve been flirting for weeks.”

“What?”

“I thought you’d never notice, so I just stopped hoping you would.”

“You’ve been flirting with me?”

Joe nodded, a soft smile on his face, leaning in close. “Should I stop?”

“Please don’t,” you giggled, the sound of your heart beating loud in your ears, “Keep going,” you mumbled. He was so close to you.

“Can I kiss you, Y/N?” Joe asked, his eyelashes touching yours as he tried to look at you.

You only nodded as you pushed your lips onto his, setting your beer bottle down carelessly and grabbing his face with both your hands. Joe sighed against your lips, clearly as satisfied as you. “Finally,” he chuckled sweetly.

Yeah. Finally.

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“Y/N,” Joe called, rushing into the bedroom. He was balancing your two-year-old Noah on his hip. “Bella’s trying to put her finger in the plug socket.”

“Don’t let her, then!”

“That’s really helpful, Y/N, thanks!” Joe said snarkily walking over to the bed and putting Noah down. “Please, please just five minutes, till I can calm Bella down.” Joe rushed out before you could argue.

You groaned, finally putting your laptop down. You looked down at your baby to find him smiling giddily at you. He put his hands out towards you, almost toppling over as he did.

“Okay, come here, you cutie!” You cooed, picking him up and putting him your lap, facing you. Noah’s hand immediately came to your long hair, tugging erratically.

“You like mummy’s hair?” You asked in a soft voice, pressing a kiss to his little head. “Are you giving daddy a hard time? You know he’s taken time off work to look after you. You need to be nice to him, okay?”

Noah babbled nonsensically, but it was almost like was answering your question.

“You agree, don’t you? Your daddy’s the best. We’ll give him a break tomorrow, okay? I should do something as your momma too, shouldn’t I?”

“Y/N,” you heard. You whipped your head to the door, finding Joe slumped against the door frame, “Should I put Noah to bed, or do you two need a moment?”

You smiled, inviting Joe to sit down on the bed, “I’ll do it. You rest for a little, okay?”

After putting Noah to bed, finding Bella also fast asleep in her own bed, you made your way back to your own bedroom. You found Joe with his head thrown back, eyes closed as his chest rose and fell with his deep breaths. You tiptoed over to him, putting your laptop away. Joe blearily opened his eyes as you shook him awake, shaking his head when he saw you. “Hey,” he whispered huskily.

“My turn tomorrow.” You whispered back, “Now how about you go change so we can sleep, too?” Noah had only just started sleeping through the night, so getting solid hours of sleep was a new thing for both of you.

“You’re not doing anything,” Joe shuffled on the bed, turning to his side and standing on his knees, “You pushed those babies out of your body. And you’re the breadwinner of the family.”

“Come on, you earn way more than me,” You smiled, not meaning it to be offensive in the slightest.

“I’m unemployed currently. Right now, I’m here to take care of the kids. Literally, you sacrificed so much just so we could have them.”

“I only did what I wanted to,” You pushed his hair back from his forehead, your fingers playing with his hair.

Joe closed his eyes once again, resting his head on your chest, “That feels amazing.”

“Go change. And then we can sleep.” You took your fingers out of his hair, pulling a small groan from your husband.

Joe stood up, scratching his head as he did. He finally turned around one last time, pulling you in for a sleepy kiss. “Our kids are perfect,” he mumbled against your lips.

“Yeah, even if they try to electrocute themselves.”