#oc sascha

He was easy to talk to, he explained his thoughts well. Why he liked things, and he asked questions, a lot of them. He was interested. It made you feel like you were the center of the world - or at least the room. He seemed to know quite a bit about music, but not in a hipster kind of way. He was genuinine. He loved a lot of things and you were eager to follow his Spotify to get new band reccs. Slowly, the friend group spread out, talked to others. Some new people did their greetings, and before you knew it, the first people were leaving. Yet Sascha never left your side. Time passed effortlessly. He asked you to join him for a cigarette outside. You lit it for him, his features casting shadows over his face in the dark of night. Carved by the gods, you thought as you blew out smoke into the clear night sky.

When those who slept over were already fast asleep, the two of you still sat on the kitchen floor, finishing off the tray of freshly baked cookies, chatting until the sun came up. You thought he'd disappear from your life after that. A night that good isn't supposed to have a sequel. It was a fairytale come true for just one night, and you were Cinderella who'd return to the mundanity of normal life after dancing with the prince.

But you saw him again during the next friendgroup birthday, not even two weeks later. It was at a cafe, and then some club for the after. The music was good, the drinks were generously poured, the company was great. Dancing felt beautiful, especially with him. Your eyes barely left his face all night. The influence he had on others was clear throughout the night - he was hot and he knew it. Yet he was magnetic, even to 'normal' girls, looking for a bad boy for the night, and your insides stirred unpleasantly. For once, you thought, let him like men. Just as you made your wish, he cracked a joke about being bisexual, and you almost sighed with relief at the possibility he might like you back. He must've noticed because he winked at you. Feeling braver, you moved closer to him on the dancefloor, close enough to grind, and he responded in kind. Immediately and without a second of hesitation. He leant down to whisper sweet compliments in your ear, how beautiful you are, that you're so hot, that he's been waiting for you to make a move... The feeling surged through you, the 'he likes me, he likes me, he likes me'. Then, you kissed him, emboldened by his flattery. God, he was delicious. You were breathless within seconds, head swimming from more than the tequila. 

You took him home that night. The night turned into a blissful weekend. 

Sascha was more quiet during the mornings, contemplative, after the morning sex. God, he looked incredible naked, with lipstick and eyeliner smeared, hair messy. By then, you knew you'd fallen too hard. Did he feel the same? When he smiled at you and went in for another kiss, everything felt allright. 

He wasn't a good texter, but neither were you, so either you met up, or you didn't for a while, always fucking, always horny for each other. He sent pics, though, to tide you over, he joked. To not make you miss him too much. Then the Halloween party came, combined with a graduation party of something or the other, and you hoped you'd see him again. Talk to him outside of fucking and sleeping. Going on a date. Yeah, you'd like that. Perhaps tonight was a good night to ask.

Well, he was there, dressed in some lace thing, his nipple piercings showing through the sheer fabric, hair done up, more make-up on than normal. Black lipstick. You wondered what character or concept he's dressed up as, but you wondered that about half the people at the party. It's at the appartment of a friend, who decorated it with fake spider webs, plush spiders and glow in the dark skeletons everywhere. Sometime after eleven, couple drinks in, someone had the ridiculous idea to play spin the bottle. There were some complaints ('childish!'), but Sascha joined, sticking his tongue out at a friend and tousling her hair jokingly. He winked at you, which sent butterflies going wild in your abdomen. You sat down in the group before you could even think twice about it. 

A couple spins, nothing of note, but then it was Sascha's turn. He spun it and it landed in between him and the friend next to him. You knew her, through the group he hung around with. She was goth like him, but with a less edgier style. 

"Yes!" Sascha exclaimed, slapping his thighs, before turning to her. "I do assume this means her, because I can't make-out with myself."

Some jeered at that, "I'm sure you would, if it were possible" type comments. 

They faced each other, and before it dawned on you that you may not like to watch, he had his hand around her neck, leaning in, noses rubbing together in a way he never did with you. It took a moment or two, he let her lips part, he let the crowd make their comments, before kissing her. More like devouring her - gods, it was almost gross to look at it. Open mouths, wet, lots of tongue, deep, with little nips of teeth in between. Your stomach twisted with jealousy, arousal and yet more jealousy. No one's ever kissed you like that before. Why her? 

Soon enough - even the guy who initiated the game was stunned for a moment, they called attention back to the game. "Well, Sascha, you still wanna participate or would you rather find a closet somewhere?"

Sascha broke the kiss to let out a hearty laugh, tousling his friend's hair again, "Just a couch will do."

And got up, pulling her along with him, her cheeks flushed and out of breath. You caught his eye for a second, and he raised his eyebrow, as though to nudge you to come over. Instead, you backed away, finding the balcony to get some air. Although it didn't feel like any amount of fresh air would help the churning of your insides.

The chilly night air cooled the sweat on your back, an unpleasant feeling. God, how could you have been so wrong about him? Did the time you spent together mean nothing to him? You fumbled your pockets for a cigarette, but found nothing. Goddamn, great timing to stop smoking. You hadn't even realised how much you'd gotten attached. Yet seeing that... 

Behind you, two friends came onto the balcony, chatting. "I always knew he had a thing for her - just look at how he went for it. That's not a normal kiss. And in public?"

"Nahh, he's a slut. He has an OnlyFans and everything."

The other shrugged. "Wonder if it's some tragic unrequited love."

"Hah! You've seen him, you've seen that kiss, I don't think anyone stands a chance." 

You push past them on your way out - you've heard enough. Not even caring about the prices of getting an uber this time of night, you're outside in a blip, pacing, waiting on the car.