#luckie.writing

you roll your eyes at that. shove him with your shoulder as your group of friends start to mingle closer around you. it’s osamu that joins the two of you first. he looks about four drinks deep and a blunt in. suna must have convinced him to try it tonight. shocker, he brought some with—you may just have to hit him up later.

”samu,” you greet, tilt up your glass to tap his and then take a sip. “lovely party as always.”

”yeah, kinda packed as shit though, ain’t it? i told tsumu to lay off on the plus one thing but he didn’t listen to me. shocker.”

a laugh bubbles out of you as you nod, and the devil himself slithers over—stumbles, more like—and flings an arm around his brother.

”friends,” he raises his glass, and you notice suna and kita not far behind him. “hope you’re enjoying yourselves.”

”seems like you certainly are,” aran quips. his elbow knocks against yours as he makes room for the others. then his side, then his chest.until he’s half pressed against you like it’s natural, slotted like he’s meant to be there.

maybe it is. maybe he is.

“seems like you’re still a party pooper,” atsumu frowns, sticking his nose in the air, offense painted over his golden features.

“and you’re still a sloppy drunk.”

that does it. before you know it there’s a good hearted squabble breaking out between atsumu and aran. big boys grappling for each other and laughing as they brush and bump and shove. you take it as your cue to slip away. let the others break them up as you mosey your way through the crowd. it is a little packed in here, osamu was right after all. and you’re thinking you need a breather.

you make your way out to the patio. the temperature has dropped, now. a little too chilly for the other party goers, you assume, as you slide the glass door back shut behind you. making your way over to the railing and set down your drink. you let out a deep breath, shake your head before dropping it into your hands.

”what the fuck has gotten into me?” you mumble, low and breathy.

“talking to yourself again?”

you jump at the sound of a familiar tenor. for such a large man, aran moves so stealthily sometimes. you hadn’t even heard the door slide shut behind him.

”mhm, and what about it?” you throw back, looking over your shoulder at the man approaching you.

”anything worth hearing?” he asks, and he’s already close. is already doting. has the jacket he brought for you in hand and is slipping it over your shoulders. his hands rest there, for just a moment too long to be normal, to be chaste. your heart skips a beat, you think.

”is it ever?” you try to laugh off, but you’re met with a frown.

”always,” he denotes, leans a hand on the railing beside you.

you turn with your back to the guardrail, press against it and eye the man next to you. what are the two of you even doing? what is this thing between you? why do you care to know so badly now, after all these years? nothing’s really changed. the two of you have always been like this.

”aran.”

”(y/n).”

fuck, even the way he says your name is sickeningly sweet. it always is, always has been. you don’t think you’ve ever heard him say it with anything other than sweet adoration in all your years together. so, maybe, that’s why you’re so scared right now. maybe that’s why you find yourself twiddling with your thumbs instead of speaking.

“hey, what’s wrong? i thought you were having a good time. did i fuck up your drink?”

”no,” you laugh, small and quiet, “no the drink is great. perfect ratio, as always.”

you expect to see a wide smirk at that. aran takes pride in the things he does, especially concerning you. instead, though, you’re met with a furrowed brow and a man leaning in just a bit closer. he’s so close, you can smell the mix of musk and cologne coming off his skin. it’s good, so good. like everything else about him is.

“what’s eatin’ at ya, then?”

“it’s nothing.”

”tell me.”

”can’t you just drop it?”

”not a chance.”

”god, why are you so stubborn.”

”because i love ya.”

that, well that causes your eyes to snap up and your breath to catch. and aran is just looking at you. all leaned in and warm and sweet and normal. like he just mentioned the weather.

you think you may pass out.

”what?”

”what?” he mimics, tilts his head to the side like he’s confused. “i love you. you’re acting like i haven’t ever said that before.”

”right,” you nod, “yeah, right. sorry, i’m just..“

”just what?”

”just..” totally in love with you? fuck, what is happening? what is happening. “i don’t know. i guess i’m confused.”

”about what?” and he’s leaning in impossibly closer, you can feel the warmth radiating from him tenfold, now. he licks his lips and you think you might just curl up and die right here.

”what are we doing?”

”talking..?”

you want to hit him.

”no, aran, i mean us. what are we..” you trail off, shake your head and push yourself away from the railing. “nevermind, it’s stupid.”

but you don’t get far. no, you make it half a step before a strong arm is coming out to block you. cross over you and bring you back in to pin you once again against the railing. and then, a strong chest, pressed against yours as a hand slides up to your cheek. and suddenly, oh. oh you’re being kissed by your best friend on the back patio at the miya twins party.

and nothing has ever felt so right.

you’re breathless and stunned and you don’t know what to do with your hands except link them around aran’s neck. he’s kissing you, deep and sloppy and good. bodies pressed together and his thumb tracing circles into your cheek bone. it’s hard and numbing to your brain. his lips pull back and you pull in. you’re not done yet, not ready to let go of this moment. maybe it’s selfish and greedy and wrong, but you don’t care. you’ve been waiting for this, you realize. you’ve been waiting your whole life.

another beat or two passes and this time you have no choice but to let him pull away. you’re out of breath and gasping for it. your fingers digging into coils at the nape of his neck and your lips wet with his spit. it’s intimate, freeing, oh so good.

”i love you.” he says it like it’s always been a fact, like it always will be. and you, well, you’re prone to believe him.

“yeah,” you mumble, shy and giddy and content, “yeah, i love you, too.”

so, you’re more than friends. and maybe you’re still not sure what that totally means. but it’s enough for you. to bask in it, to revel in it. you just kissed ojiro aran.

and you’re going to do it again.