A/N: Ngl reader isn't the best person in this for a second because she's not respecting boundaries, but I can't get it out of my head and I'm pretty sure I'm getting sick, so here is my literal (almost) fever dream. Also I wrote this in one sitting, so...there's not much editing.
Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Nott!reader, the yearning is strong in this one friends
Warnings: angst and boundary pushing
Word Vomit: “There's something between you two, but there's also someone. Theo."
"Cheers to the happy couple," said Blaise, hoisting up his whiskey glass. It was just full enough to slosh to the side and have a drop hit the floor, but the moment was too warm and too genuine for anyone to care. "May your hearts and glasses always be full, and good lord may Flora's patience always be saint-like with this one," he finished.
Everyone laughed at that, echoing en masse a chorus of "here here's!" as Blaise tilted his firewhiskey towards your brother and winked cheekily. Theo raised his back, a rare but true grin spreading across his face towards his friend.
Theo and Flora had gotten engaged, and your house and heart was full to the brim. To watch your quiet older brother slowly but surely open up to love was a true joy in your life. To celebrate it, you'd organized a casual but expansive get together, almost like a calmer house party; though the night was young. It was only a matter of time until someone broke out the "emergency keg" in the back; that likely suspect looking right at you.
Mattheo was across the room, practically at Theo's right hand. He had an unlit cigar in his own, one of the set he bought for the boys to celebrate. He was subconsciously flicking it between his index and middle finger, the movement threatening to enrapture you more with every whirl. Flora didn't love smoke, so while she sat at Theo's left playing with his cuff, Mattheo and Theo withheld lighting up until the festivities truly began.
It was a small but true display how Mattheo and the boys had slowly but surely grown. Over the years, they grew from rowdy boys to young men with the occasional wild night. They were considerate of one of their guests, one that tonight, truly became one of their own. Back in fourth year? The clover scented smoke would've made the room hazy before the first cap was cracked. Now even Enzo had to be a few deep before he was cracking everyone up with his perfectly performed stories of their most recent escapades. After all, you all were "practically half in the grave at this point," Draco would lament. As if you weren't just out of Hogwarts.
Of all of them, you noticed Mattheo the most. Of course you did. His dark eyes and curls had always been your crutch, always haunting you in the back of your mind. Mattheo, your brother's oldest and closest friend. The one right next to your brother in every fight (as if he hadn't started it in the first place), his "detention buddy for life." Mattheo, the boy with eyes that you had known almost as long as you'd recognized your own.
It was because of this that you knew that those deep brown eyes that you knew he wasn't absentmindedly staring off in your direction. He wasn't even checking you out. No, those eyes absolutely and intensely focused. Right on you. For once, they weren't aloof or joking, unapologetically loud and seeking the crowd's attention. They were fixated, intent. Quiet.
""Do you think she's pregnant?"
Whipping your head around, you looked at Pansy in disbelief. She was holding her third martini, swirling the last mouthful between her dark fingernails.
"What? No! Of course not!" you panicked for a split second, looking at Flora and back to your friend. "Why the fuck do you think that?"
"I don't, I've been trying to talk to you for three minutes and you won't stop staring at Mattheo. I had to say something to have you pay attention to me," she said shrugging. Mouth immediately dropping open in denial, she shushed you before you could splutter out a response. "Save it Y/N," she said. "Anyone with half a speck of sense could see that boy wants you. Even Draco sees it, and that's saying something." She sighed dramatically at her boyfriend who was - of course - fixing his hair. "I swear that boy is looking in a mirror so much, I see him in it when I check my makeup." She rolled her eyes and thrusted her chin in Mattheo's direction. "Are you ever going to do anything about it?"
"I - I um, he doesn't...there's no way - "
She helped up a finger, shushing you before you spluttered out your response. "There is, but you better get him before he leaves."
Quirking an eyebrow, you cocked your head at her before looking to where Mattheo was sitting. Except...he wasn't. Not anymore. His seat had been vacated, even Theo was too engrossed in Flora to notice. You searched for him through the crowd, a familiar habit nowadays. You found him quickly, stepping through the front door and into the cold.
Without another word to Pansy, you put your drink down and followed him.
"Mattheo!" you called, instantly regretting not bringing your coat. The chill caught your breath and froze it in front of you. He was standing on the edge of the road, kicking gently at stray gravel.
Mattheo turned only slightly, not enough to meet your eyes. The flash of his cheekbone was briefly cut by the streetlight above him.
"What are you doing out here? It's freezing, come back inside. You haven't even opened the keg yet," huffing out your words, you tried to lighten up whatever mood he'd gotten himself into this time.
"I have to go," he said flatly, "and you need to go back inside."
"Why?" your eyebrows furrowed at his tone. Walking down the steps you rubbed your arms. It was a bitter night for sure, but you couldn't return to the party. You were on the precipice of something, you knew it.
"Well for one, your coat's in there," smartass, you thought, "and I...I can't be in there right now. I can't be around you." Mattheo pulled himself back a step, barely looking at you.
"What? Why?" voice and heart clenching, your hurt surprise evident in your words. He had never talked to you like before. He was teasing and downright obnoxious at times, sure, but not like this. Cold.
"Because - " he stopped himself, biting his lip. He felt it, you, creeping up his throat and scraping his heart. Your smile, the shine of your hair, every time you reassured him he was a good person when he was proving to himself again that he wasn't. How could he be? His best mate's sister was looking right at him, through him, for the millionth time, and he couldn't help but fall in love with her. The only girl he couldn't.
He had sat there all night next to your brother and watched him smile at his future bride. Watched him love so openly, so honestly. It took everything Mattheo had to stay put, physically showing himself where he needed to stay. With his best friend, and not with you. He couldn't be with you like that, couldn't look at you like that. He was reminding himself that Theo was there first, but his emotions had wound him up so tightly they were threatening to strangle him. The only thing he was grateful for in that moment was that he was so sure you didn't know.
Unfortunately for him, you did though. Pansy had finally spit it out. She was many things, but was never a liar. You thought you were making it up for the longest time; just looking for anything to play into your ultimate fantasy. But the way he was looking at you after Blaise's toast confirmed it. Your crush wasn't the result of the thrill that it was your brother's best friend. It couldn't be, not when it was Mattheo.
Mattheo, who grew up in the worst possible situation and still found ways to make everyone around him laugh. Sure he was...a lot sometimes, but he couldn't have been any other way. He had to be loud, had to be tenacious, just to create a space for himself. To persist his existence somehow. To prove it. That he had made it out and was fine - strong, even.
"Because I'm not a good person, (Y/N). I want - " he was practically grasping for breath. "I want to be. For you. But I can't. I have to be better, for him."
You tilted your head, blinking slowly at him. He could only bear to glance at your for a moment before he looked away. Gritting his teeth, he retreated again when everything screamed at him not to. His voice was strained, practically a whisper. "I want to, (Y/N), you have no idea."
"Yes I do," you replied quietly.
"No, you don't." he said, exasperated. "You're too good, a-a-and I'm trying to grow the fuck up. Being in your lives, all of our friends, has made me a better person. I'm trying to be proud of it. But I can't do that if I do this. He's my best friend in the world. I can't..." he curled his fingers into fists. Shoving them into his pockets, his jaw clenched tightly. "I can't betray him like that. You are the only thing he has ever asked me for. Please don't make me break that." Unable to bear your gaze a second longer, he turned his back to you. He couldn't give you the answer you wanted, so he was trying to give you nothing at all.
"So you're going to give this up, to let me go, before you even try?" You knew it was wrong, but you couldn't have stopped yourself even if you wanted to. The pull to him was always too strong. If there was even the slightest chance this beautiful boy could be yours, you had to try. Mattheo was complicated, but when it came down to it, he was deceptively gentle and sweet with you. Walking you to your dorm when Theo had fallen asleep early, slinging his arm over your shoulders if a guy at the Broomsticks was getting too close. He had always, always been in your life in one way or another. But you needed him like this.
Staring at his back, you saw rather than heard his scoff. It was a shock of white steam in the air, the wisps fading gently around his curls. He shook his head with a small laugh, sucking a tooth. "You're really something else, you know that?"
"I wonder where I got that from."
"No," he muttered, a whisper only in the space of a breath. "That's just you."
You only heard it because you had closed the distance he was so desperate to keep. You tilted forward, brows resting gently between his shoulder blades. Mattheo shuddered.
"Mattheo," your voice was so sweet, so sincere, it took every ounce of him to stare straight ahead. "If you're going to do this, can you do me one favor?"
He pulled his lips in tight, knowing he'd regret this. He nodded once.
"Show me what I'll be missing," you whispered.
Mattheo straightened, every muscle tight. Your small hands were light on his torso, coaxing him to turn. He did, brown hair illuminated by the golden streetlight. It suited him, you thought briefly. The glow.
When his eyes truly met yours for the first time since Blaise's toast, you lost your breath. You felt the charge between you two crackle from your hair to your toes. In an uncharacteristic show of courage, you yanked on his belt loop and forced his chest against yours. Mattheo stumbled, steading himself on your hips.
Sucking in a breath, his right hand trembled when it grazed your cheek. Stroking the soft skin, he prayed to anything and anyone to give him one iota of strength back. But when you leaned into his palm, the final grip on his resolve fell.
Mattheo's callused fingers gripped your face firmly, albeit reverently, as his lips finally captured yours. They were chapped from the chill, but frankly you couldn't have cared less.
He kissed you like he had waited a century, and his hands were everywhere. Slipping through your hair and down your sides, pressing into your back until every part of you met every part of him. He kissed you with his entire body, backing you up into the column of the streetlight. The cold condensation against your sweater made you gasp, giving him the in he so desperately wanted.
Mattheo slipped his tongue into your mouth, claiming everything for his own. You felt him graze your teeth, shuddering when he traced your lips. You melted into him, gripping the front of his shirt so hard it wrinkled the fabric. Groaning, Mattheo's hands cradled your face again as his knee pressed between your legs. The friction dragged a whimper out of you as your tried to desperately keep up with him. To savor this.
Sucking his tongue, you hummed in pleasure. Mattheo quivered, drawing back. Whining desperately, you reached for him only for him to graze his nose against your throat, the cold tip of it tickling its way downwards. Your giggle turned into a mewl when his warm tongue dragged back up. Biting and sucking, he nipped at a spot behind your ear the had you thankful he was keeping you standing. He was insatiable; tasting you like he'd never have the chance again. Maybe he wouldn't, but not before he ruined you for anyone else.
Somewhere back in the house, cheers erupted and a glass shattered in victory. Enzo, it seemed, had gotten the emergency keg out all on his own.
The sound was as effective as being dipped in a bucket of ice. You two jumped apart, gasping, like you'd been caught.
