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“So has been development in hopeless flirting with English boy?” Jan elbows Stefan in the side and wiggles his eyebrows at him. If the bartender hadn’t come over, Stefan probably would’ve slapped him, instead he settles for flicking him the V. Jan just laughs.
They’re in The Golabki like they seem to be every weekend these days, Jan, Stefan and Rash; Leila too if she’s not too tired from medical school, and sometimes the other guys from the old house. It’s nice. Stefan’s managed to combine his two worlds pretty seamlessly he thinks.
Maybe Jan hadn’t taken to Rash straight away, but that was all water under the bridge now. Stefan’d suspected he’d been a tiny bit jealous. But once they’d gotten to know each other and Stefan had made it clear that there was room in his life for both of them, Jan’d seemed to warm to Rash. Especially now he’d realised that Stefan didn’t want him to replace Jan in his role as best friend as such. And that actually Stefan was maybe hoping he and Rash could be a bit more than that. Perhaps. Maybe.
Jan orders the drinks, three pints and a vodka lime, and turns back to him, “So?”
“Nothing’s happening.” Stefan sighs, as Jan pays the bartender.
“Do not say you are back on the sister?” Jan raises his eyebrows again like nothing would surprise him at this point, which Stefan resents but also can’t really object to. They both know he’s been in dodgier situations than this.
“Will you shut up, one of them might hear you!”
“They are all the way on other side of room!” Rash and Leila were indeed on the other side of the pub. Stefan couldn’t even see if they were looking his way from where he was standing at the bar and there were a good thirty people between them all shouting boisterously in animated Polish.
Jan elbows him again, “Oh come on, I am bored now you leave me to live with skinny English boy, I need the gossips.” he says, licking his lips like gossip is his primary source of nutrition and Stefan’s about to feed him a scandal burger with a side of juicy rumour.
“Fiiiine, but really nothing’s happening. He’s straighter than a Roman road for fucks sake.”
Cocking his head slightly, Jan picks up one of the pints and the vodka lime. “But how you know? Does he know about you?”
Stefan grabs the other pints and follows him. “No, there’s just never been a good time...” They weave through chairs and tables and people; Stefan nearly trips twice. “…And I have checked his sexuality extensively, believe me. I walk round half naked most of the time and he doesn’t even look up. It’s like he’s not even remotely interested and I mean who wouldn’t be, come on.” He ignores the snort from Jan. “God knows when he’s walking round in his towel I’m paying attention you know.” Another snort. “Not in a pervy way in a subtle appreciative way.”
“Mmhm. ” Jan rolls his eyes.
“Shut up. If anything he seems even less interested in me than usual at the minute, all avoiding my eye and stuff.”
“Maybe if you shave off shitty beard he will confuse for woman?”
It’s Stefan’s turn to snort his reply, “I hate you. A lot.”
Jan looks at him all puppy dog eyes, “Is this why you move out and leave me?”
“Yes.” Jan looks at him again. “No.” the puppy dog eyes turn to a shit eating grin. Stefan resists the urge to slap him. “Shut up.”
Still grinning, Jan sets the drinks down on an empty table. “Anyway is no problem, I have plan!” Stefan wonders if someone’s just turned the air con on because he feels a distinct chill in the air all of a sudden. He has no idea what Jan’s planning but he suspects it isn’t good. And probably not 100% legal.
Jan slips what appears to be a hip flask filled with Spyritus Stratiskalivya from his jacket and tops up the drinks with it.
“Mate you can’t put that in a pint that’s going to be disgusting.”
“Of course you can! It can be with anything!” Jan takes a sip of his drink “Pyszne!” Stefan rolls his eyes.
“Was that the plan?"
“No plan is much better. This is just first part of plan.”
“Whatever it is you can drop it right now.”
Jan just cackles at him and heads back to the table.
Stefan hurries to follow, “You do anything and I will stab you. In the throat. With a biro. And Rash’ll have to help me hide your body and it’ll be super unromantic so you’ll have doubly ruined my chances but at least they’ll never find your traitorous corpse.”
“I do not understand half these words.”
“Shut up.”
They reach the table moments later to find Rash and Leila sitting together on one side with two empty chairs opposite them. Leila’s talking animatedly about medical school. She started two weeks ago and from what Stefan’s gathered she seems to be loving it. Rash is looking at her all quiet smiles and obvious pride and God Stefan hates this. Rash isn’t even looking at him and he’s got his insides all knotted and his heart fluttering and all the other teenage girl clichés you can think of all going on because of his stupid face and stupid smile and stupid everything.
Rash looks up as they arrive and for a moment his eyes meet Stefan’s and the smile’s still there. If Stefan hadn’t been completely sure of his own delusions he would’ve said that maybe Rash’s smile gets a tiny bit bigger when he sees him and maybe his eyes sparkle a tiny bit and maybe that’s why Stefan’s currently struggling to breathe. Or equally it could be that Rash just perks up at the sight of alcohol (don’t we all?) and Stefan’s just having a chill asthma attack, who knows.
“Here you go mate.” Stefan hands Rash his drink and his breath absolutely does not catch when their fingertips brush.
“Cheers mate.”
For fucks sake again with the smile really? Stefan wishes he could just kiss it off the poor bastard’s face right here and now. But he can’t. Because they’re flatmates.
Jan slips into the seat opposite Leila, leaving Stefan the one across from Rash. They smile at each other again briefly until Rash looks down at his beer.
Leila and Jan are chatting about something; he’s laughing at something she’s said. Rash rolls his eyes at Stefan and Stefan grins at him. Rash looks confused, like that’s not the reaction he anticipated. Maybe he’d expected jealousy from Stefan seeing Jan flirt shamelessly with Leila in front of them. God if only he was jealous. Stefan misses his crush on Leila. It was good and sensible and they weren’t flatmates. He’d probably had a shot. God knows she’s nice and funny and definitely hot enough for him to be interested, but then her dickhead brother had shown up. And they’d just sort of… clicked. And now Stefan was in way too deep with a crush the size of Russia on his flatmate, and God he was fucked.
Someone clears their throat and Stefan’s head snaps up, tearing his eyes away from the spot on Rash’s left cheek at which he’d been accidentally staring, subconsciously taking in the way his eyelashes cast light shadows down it.
Everyone’s looking at Jan, who’s looking incredibly proud of himself. Stefan’s not sure why yet but he suspects the best move right now would be to leg it out the pub and never come back. Instead he too looks at Jan. “What’s going on?”
Jan smiles at him all innocence and rainbows. Stefan immediately regrets saying anything.
“I am thinking we play game!” Oh God no. This is not going to end well. Stefan glares at him in what he hopes is a threatening way, but he suspects he’s coming off more pleading than anything. Jan winks at him. It’s not the reaction he was hoping for.
“What kind of game?” Rash asks. Stefan shoots daggers at him. What the hell is he encouraging him for? Rash smirks back.
“What is this one, ‘I have never done this’?”
“’Never have I ever?’” Leila pipes up, looking a bit too keen.
Swallowing, Stefan attempts to shut things down before they get out of hand, “Eerrrm I’m not too sure that’s a good idea…”
“Why not?” Leila asks, the picture of innocence. Rash and Jan are both smirking at him now.
Rash raises his eyebrows, “Yeah man, what’ve you got to hide?”
Jesus he should not’ve let Jan spike Rash’s drink, it was affecting him already, the bloody lightweight. There’s no way sober Rash would agree to this.
“So is yes? Tak!” Jan necks a shot of vodka and Stefan shrinks back in apposite fear. Poor Rash and Leila they’ve got no idea what they’re getting themselves into.
“Ladies are going first.” Jan grins at Leila somewhat manically. She lifts her drink and nods back at him. Stefan is very, very scared.
“Hmmmm,” she takes a sip of her drink, “hmmmmm…” God has it suddenly got really cold in here? Stefan shivers. Leila’s looking, he wouldn’t say evil exactly, he’s not sure it’s possible for Leila to look evil, but she’s certainly doing a good impressed of someone who can.
“Never have I ever… pissed in the shower!”
Oh thank God! Stefan drinks almost too eagerly in his relief. Jan and Rash are smirking at Leila as they both drink too.
“Ew, you guys are disgusting.”
Rash turns to Stefan, “Not at the flat though right?”
“Um…”
“Dude! It’s way too fancy for that, come on!”
Leila bops Rash on the arm, “But mum’s shower’s fair game?”
Rash looks away sheepishly, his ears turning pink.
Jan’s absolutely pissing himself laughing away in the corner at the domestic. Stefan’s too relieved to laugh.
It’s his go next, he decides it’s best to follow suit and keep it vanilla.
“Never have I ever… committed a crime.”
He grins around the table as they all drink, including Rash. “Arrash! You are a man of the law! How could you?”
“It was trespassing with you, you dick. On that bloody boat.” Rash smiles back at him. And it’s the smile he seems to save for Stefan. Where he looks like he hates him for making him smile at something stupid, but he can’t help it. Stefan feels the heat rising in his cheeks.
Rash holds his gaze for a beat too long, then clears his throat and looks away quickly. He turns to Leila. “Wait Ley what have you done? I’m not gonna have to arrest my own sister am I?” he asks, then chuckles a bit too loudly, clearing his throat again.
Leila’s looking at them like she’s trying to solve a tricky Sudoku. Stefan avoids her eye too, taking a quick swig of his drink.
“Um… it was in Amsterdam, I er… I tried some of my friend’s spliff.” Stefan can’t help smirking at her then.
“In Amsterdam? It’s legal there you idiot! That absolutely does not count. Drink again you cheat.”
She sticks her tongue out at him and takes a quick sip.
“Does no one want to know what I have done.” Jan pipes up.
“Nah you’re alright mate we don’t have all night.” Rash laughs, his eyes settling on Stefan again for a moment, before quickly moving on.
Stefan looks back at his drink, the familiar heat returning.
*** *** *** ***
Two rounds and three drinks later, all on Jan and all spiked, and the questions have become a little more interesting, although Stefan still thankfully hadn’t been forced to reveal anything too scandalous.
So far they’ve had to ban Leila from including things that happened at the hospital since Jan nearly dropped his drink after finding out how many naked women she’d seen. Helping old ladies to the toilet was not what he’d had in mind.
And Stefan had learnt a few useful things about Rash, useful for blackmailing purposes. For example, he now knew Rash’d sucked his thumb until he was fifteen, which had horribly confused Stefan as it was obviously adorable but he also couldn’t not think about the… ahem... ‘practise’ Rash must’ve got.
He’d also found out that Rash’s mum had walked in on him losing his virginity when he was seventeen and he hadn’t been able to look her in the eye for three months after. Fucking gold.
They were back to Jan now, his were always the worst, unsurprisingly. The guy had no filter. And he still hadn’t revealed his ‘plan’ yet. Stefan took a quick swing of his beer to prepare. He’d taken to buying his own after the second one had come back with a frankly toxic amount of Spyritus Stratiskalivya in it. Probably enough to kill a small hippo.
Leila on the other hand had been continuing to allow Jan to buy her drinks and it’s showing. “Right, Jan my darling, it’s your goooo.” She leans over the table to pat his arm, nearly taking both their drinks with her.
“Okaay, my dear!” he says extracting himself from her vice like grip. Winking, he leans in conspiratorially. Leila and Rash follow. “Never have I ever…” he looks round the circle. Stefan holds his breath.
“Never have I ever, given the suck job!”
Fuck. Jan leans back looking very proud of himself. Rash nearly spits out his drink; Leila’s laughing and Stefan’s wishing the ground would swallow him. Cheers mate. Fucking outing me.
“Do you mean a blow job, Jan?” God Leila no shut up. She’s giggling away, hand on Jan’s arm again. A couple of months ago Stefan would’ve given his right arm to hear Leila talking about blow jobs, but there you go. How things change. Now he’s trying to figure out if it’s possible to decapitate yourself with a beer mat.
Jan’s laughing. Stefan wants to stab him. “No my dear should not be much of the blowing involved. Maybe a little if they are wanting?” he quirks his eyebrows at Leila as he downs the rest of his drink. She does the same and attempts a wink, but can’t seem to manage one eye at a time. Rash looks like he’s trying not be sick, eyes darting around the room trying to look anywhere but at his baby sister. Poor guy.
Eventually he gets to Stefan who’s polishing off his beer too. Rash raises his eyebrows slightly but otherwise his expression is unreadable. Stefan wipes his mouth on the back of his sleeve. God this is not how he wanted to have this conversation. He glances back up; Rash is still staring at him.
“Right my round is it?” Leila stands up too quickly and lurches into Rash, but he barely seems to notice, his attention focussed solely on Stefan. Stefan swallows and desperately tries to look away, but he can’t seem to manage it.
Gently Jan pulls Leila up off Rash and puts an arm round her waist to steady her. She pats him on the chest, “Thank you, kind sir!” He laughs and gives her a little squeeze.
“No problem my lady.” She turns to the others, or at least she tries to. She’s about ninety degrees too far left.
“Same again everyone?”
No one has time to answer before she’s marching off to the bar, Jan in tow.
It seems like the whole bar goes quiet then. It’s just the two of them.
Fuck fuck fuck. What if Rash wants to move out? What if he wants Stefan to move out? Fuck if he’s going back to that shitty house. God he is going to literally murder Jan, the fucking bastard.
Stefan has a sip of his pint for courage then glances back at Rash. He’s still staring at him, Stefan’s not sure he’s blinked yet. He tries a tiny smile, although his insides feel as though they’re stuck in a vice.
“Rash? You okay?”
Rash blinks, finally, “What? Um…” the vice tightens and Stefan has to look away. He goes to down the rest of this drink, but then Rash clears his throat. Fuck, here we go.
“So blokes huh?” His tone is completely neutral. Stefan doesn’t dare look up, doesn’t dare look at Rash. He’s not ready for the look of disgust or embarrassment or whatever it is he’s going to see. Not from Rash of all people. Two minutes ago that face had had Stefan’s insides in knots for entirely different reasons. He wasn’t ready for that to change just yet.
“Um… yeah? Is that…? Is that a problem or…?” he runs one hand through his hair and toys with his beer with the other, still refusing to look up.
“No, no! Um… I mean of course not, no. Why would it be? It’s the twenty first century after all mate I mean… I’m just confused because I thought you were after Leila is all...”
“Oh!” Stefan looks up at last to find Rash smiling carefully at him. No anger. No disgust. Confusion perhaps, but it’s better than Stefan dared to hope for.
“Well, um, I was after Leila.”
“Was? So wait is this a recent thing or?”
“No, no I’ve always been a guys and girls kind of guy.” Rash looks like he gets it finally but Stefan thinks he’d better just clarify. “I’m bi.”
“Right, yeah course.” It’s Rash’s turn to stare nervously at his drink.
Stefan picks absently at a napkin, “So, are we good?”
“Yeah, yeah course. It’s just … so you’re definitely not still after Leila?” Rash almost sounds pained and he’s still not looked up.
A tiny part of Stefan wants to believe this is more than just overprotective brotherliness. “No no, don’t worry.” he says.
Rash visibly relaxes. But then tenses again, this time looking up at Stefan. “So is there… anyone else or?”
Stefan scrubs a hand over his eyes. “Um kind of. I mean it’s never gonna happen but a guy can dream, y’know.”
Rash still looks tense. Stefan guesses he just isn’t used to having these conversations with people who aren’t straight.
“How come?”
Stefan sighs; he can’t believe he’s having this conversation with Rash. It’s almost physically painful. “I’m very sure they’re straight for one thing.”
Rash is deeply interested in his beer again. “It’s a guy then.”
“Mmhm.”
“How d’you know he’s … not interested? Have you asked him or anything?”
“Nah, but I’m not really into romantic humiliation.”
Rash looks up, smiling quietly. He meets Stefan’s gaze and holds it this time, really holds it, staring at him until Stefan feels like he’s caught under a microscope. Or maybe he’s an ant under a magnifying glass, because his face is suddenly on fire. He’s sure Rash can see the blush creeping up his face from the other side of the table. But he can’t seem to look away…
“Right then!” Rash claps and Stefan flinches. It’s all too loud too quickly. The moment’s shattered and the noise of the pub floods back in.
Rash doesn’t seem to have noticed; he’s draining the rest of his beer and trying to stand up at the same time, swaying slightly as he does so. “I’m just gonna pop t’the loo and then think I’ma call it a night.” His words are slightly slurred and his eyes don’t seem fully focused and Stefan has to wonder if he imagined everything. Maybe they’ve both had more than he realised. Because he can’t imagine the kind of intensity he’d witnessed only moments ago coming from the Rash standing in front of him who’s trying to desperately to stay upright unaided.
“You coming?” Rash goes to stagger forward and Stefan has to jump to catch him, one hand splayed on his chest to stop him falling and the other taking his glass from him before he drops it.
“Yeah, yeah come on then let’s get you home.”
“I’mkay.” Rash puts his hand on Stefan’s chest too. Obviously just to steady himself. “Meet y’back here?”
Stefan takes Rash’s hand down and lets him lean into his side as he helps him across the room. “I’ll just go tell Jan and Leila we’re leaving yeah?”
Rash pats his chest again “Mm, shouldn’twe walk Ley home first?” Then leaning in, he whispers, “not sure I trust Jan!”
Stefan laughs, “What, with Leila? Jesus, Rash, call yourself a detective!”
“Hmm?” God Rash is adorable when he’s confused.
“You know Mandek? Comes out with us sometimes,”
Rash nods, his hand still on Stefan’s chest.
“He’s Jan’s boyfriend.”
Rash staggers back in that exaggerated shocked way drunk people do when they hear gossip, “No waaaaaay.”
“Mate, they’re not exactly subtle.”
“I just thought Polish guys were more affectionate!” Rash giggles into Stefan’s chest and Stefan has to resist the urge to hug him. Maybe Polish guys are just more affectionate?
“Jan’ll look after her don’t worry.”
Rash nods again and staggers off to the toilets at the other end of the bar. Stefan watches him go all the way to the door. Just to check he’s okay... Then he scans the bar until he finds Jan and Leila. Luckily they’ve not been served yet.
“Me an’ Rash are heading off now. You two gonna be okay?”
Jan turns to him but Leila doesn’t move from where she’s slumped against the bar. Stefan hopes she hasn’t passed out.
“Aaaaah! So is worked!! Admit was best plan you ever see!” Jan elbows him in the ribs a few times then continues cackling to himself.
Stefan slaps his arm away. “Well no, no it wasn’t, it was a shit plan quite frankly. All you’ve done is get him absolutely fucking twatted and then made me come out to him in the most embarrassing way possible so I’m not really sure what you were trying to achieve.”
Jan goes to speak, but Stefan isn’t having any of it, “No! I don’t want to hear it mate. At least you’ve got him drunk enough bloody spiking his drinks all night that he might not remember anything, so I guess I’ve got that to thank you for, ‘cause I doubt we’re gonna be having any awkward conversations when we get home when he’s busy puking and I’m busy cleaning it up.”
“That’ll make a change then...” It’s Leila. She hasn’t moved; she’s still slumped against the bar with her eyes closed, but there’s a distinct smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.
“Y’what?”
“You cleaning up his puke. It’ll make a nice change… Cos you…” she yawns, “…you owe him for that first night.” Stefan gawks at her a bit like a cartoon goldfish, he hadn’t realised she was even listening. But then she starts to snore gently and he decides that’s his cue to leave.
He finds Rash at a table trying to get his coat on without falling over. It’s not going terribly well, his head is currently inside one of the pockets.
“Jesus Christ, c’mere.” He helps him on with his coat, then lets him lean on him as they head home. Rash with an arm around Stefan’s shoulders and Stefan with his arm around Rash’s waist.
This must’ve been how Rash felt that night he found Stefan outside the hotel; the night he’d saved him from being strawberry jammed by that truck. They’d started as they meant to go on, saving each other from one life threatening situation after another. At least Rash hasn’t puked yet (thankfully). Or torn his clothes off (less thankfully).
They eventually get back to the flat, Rash stumbling through the door giggling and dragging poor Stefan in after him. Stefan eventually manages to prop Rash up at the kitchen table, before going to hang up their coats. When he gets back he finds him at the counter with two shot glasses and a bottle of Spyritus Stratiskalivya on the counter in front of him.
“Woaah what are you doing? Don’t you think you’ve had enough mate?”
“I never… nevergod my las’ turn?”
“You what?”
Rash is struggling to stay upright. “Never ’ave I ever… I never godmy las’ go!”
“Oh...” Stefan senses danger, or a trap of some kind. It’s the same feeling he gets when he goes undercover. Danger and tension and an uneasy sort of anticipation, the feeling that he’s not entirely in control.
Rash pours out two shots, sloshing some on the table.
“Hey, dude, that’s expensive! Be careful,” Stefan laughs nervously, whipping the bottle away from him. The fuck is he doing letting Rash drink more? This is a bad idea. “Are you sure about this?”
“Yep…”
Rash pushes one of the shots towards him, not spilling any this time, and takes hold of his own, not breaking eye contact the whole time. There’s an intensity to his gaze that wasn’t there before, the drunken bleariness gone for a moment. Stefan stares back, his heartrate increasing rapidly.
Then the moment’s broken as Rash’s eyes lose focus again and he stumbles backward almost theatrically before raising his glass and staring at it, refusing to look directly at Stefan.
“Never have I ever…” he staggers back again, “had a fucking huge…” Stefan’s sure for a moment he’s going to say dick or something equally ridiculous. Rash brings the glass to his lips. He’s staring at the floor. “crushonmyflatmate” he says and necks the shot.
Oh. Well then. Okay… Stefan isn’t quite sure what to feel. This is being tied up on the boat about to be killed and the police bursting in and saving them and jumping off the building and landing in the pool unscathed and crashing and rolling the car and then getting out safe before they’re burned alive and all the times they’ve nearly died and then miraculously somehow not all rolled into one. He has to stop himself jumping Rash right there and then in the kitchen, because the poor guy is still looking absolutely terrified. Obviously he has no reason not too yet. Stefan still hasn’t told him that it is absolutely fucking requited so he can stop looking so stressed and pouty and adorable. God he wants to kiss that beautiful pout off that beautiful face more than he’s probably ever wanted anything.
He puts on his best serious face. “Rash.”
“Mm.” Rash is scuffing at the skirting with his shoe and apparently it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen because he won’t stop staring at it.
“Rash, look at me.” He finally looks up and God is he adorable when he’s anxious. (And also all the rest of the time.)
Stefan looks deep into Rash’s eyes as he downs his shot too. For once managing not to wince at the taste. Luckily he doesn’t have to deal with it for long because a moment later he tastes something considerably sweeter.
Jezu kochany he’s waited so fucking long for this. The kiss is so much better than he’d dared to imagine. It’s just so them. It’s like they’re competing for control, but with exactly the right amount of give and take that it just absolutely one hundred percent works. Rash has Stefan pinned up against the fridge, one hand on his hip and the other knotted in his hair, while Stefan claws at Rash’s back with one hand, desperately trying to pull him closer, and holds him in place with the other at the back of his neck.
Rash tastes of vodka and that hipster blueberry beardwax he has that Stefan has not been stealing. And Stefan’s so disgustingly deliriously happy that he’s probably more surprised than Rash when he breaks the kiss.
“Hang on! Hang on. Just wait a sec.”
“Mm what?” Rash starts nibbling at his earlobe and Stefan is suddenly very thankful for the fridge holding him upright.
“Noo, hang on, ahh, you’ve got to ahhh, Rash, get off a sec.”
“Hmm?” Rash’s pupils are blown to fucking kingdom come and his hair is gloriously dishevelled. He frowns, “Have you been stealing my beardwax? Because…” he kisses just below Stefan’s ear, “I can…” more kisses down his jaw “taste it …” more, “on you.”
“What? No! …Maybe. Shush, listen,” Stefan sighs and drops his hand to Rash’s shoulder.
Rash pulls back, suddenly not at all as confident, “You did mean me right?? With the crush? Not some other random flatmate from your past or something?”
Stefan huffs a laugh and sketches a thumb across Rash’s cheek, “Course, it’s you, you daft twat.”
Rash leans in so their foreheads are touching, then whispers, “So what’s up?”
Stefan looks at the floor, “You’re very drunk mate… We shouldn’t be doing this.”
There’s no reply, so he looks up and is rewarded with a swift flick to the forehead and Rash’s ‘Stefan you’re an adorable moron’ look. “You idiot, did you really think I couldn’t taste whatever Jan was putting in my drink? I stopped drinking them after like, the first one. Swapped ’em with this guy near the bar who looked like he needed the extra kick.”
“Wait what did he look like?”
“Um, dunno …” Rash looks confused (and fucking beautiful).
“Short? Balding? Squinty left eye? Looks like he knows about ten different ways to kill you with his little finger?”
“Uh… yeah? Yeah! Sounds like him.”
“Nooo! Mr Rucinski! He was doing so well!” Stefan plonks himself down on the sofa, “He’d been sober for like four months.”
Rash joins him, folding his feet up under himself so he’s leaning into Stefan, “Oh peak. He said his wife had left him though, so I guess that’s why?”
“Oh noo Karol!! How could you leave poor Lubomir? I thought they were doing okay now he’d stopped drinking. Now they’re back to square one… I’ll have to find him next week and...”
“Stefan.”
“Hmm?”
“Shut up.”
Stefan doesn’t really have any choice as his mouth is suddenly otherwise occupied.
*** *** *** ***
Stefan settles into Rash’s side, resting his head on his chest with his arm strewn across his stomach.
“Raa-ash” he singsongs, “I have a question.”
“Mm.” Rash weaves their fingers together absently. Stefan could definitely get used to this.
“If you were sober…”
“Mmm.”
“Why were you staggering home?”
Rash doesn’t answer so Stefan shifts round to look at him, he’s not making eye contact.
“You pissed in that garden!”
“Yeah that was payback for that first night!” Rash tickles Stefan’s side and he squirms away, nearly falling off the sofa.
“What the hell Rash? That’s someone’s garden?”
“Mm that was payback too... I had to interview the couple that live there once when their neighbours got their car keyed and they have a really horrible dog so I thought I’d teach it a lesson...”
Stefan just stares at him until he starts to blush, “What? I was confusing it! Marking my territory.”
Stefan snorts. And pecks a kiss to his cheek. “So you’re completely sober then yeah?” he laughs.
“Well maybe a tiny it tipsy.” Rash kisses him back on the forehead. “Don’t pretend you’re not too.”
“Hmm but I know I’m not going to regret this.”
Rash nips at his ear in reply. “I am absolutely…” he presses a kiss to Stefan’s temple, “…definitely…” then along his cheekbone “…not going to regret this”. He finishes with a kiss to his mouth, long and deep and needy.
Before Stefan has time to register what’s happened he’s being pinned down on the sofa with Rash on top, hands and mouth everywhere and Jesus Christ could this be any hotter? He’s trying not to dwell on the fact they didn’t get here sooner and that they largely have Jan to thank for this ’cause that is frankly a bit of a moodkiller, when Rash’s hand moves to his fly.
“Woah woah woah hang on a minute Lothario.” Stefan breaks away again, “Are you sure you want to… right away?” He looks into Rash’s eyes. Searching for fear or at least uncertainty beneath the obvious lust (it’s borderline pornographic how blown his pupils are). Instead he sees concern, like Rash’s main priority is checkin he’s okay.
“Do you… not want to?” Rash climbs off him so they’re sitting facing each other.
“No no it’s not that! It’s just this is your first time with a guy isn’t it.”
“Mm.” Rash looks away as a blush creeps up his neck, “not my first time thinking about it though…”
Stefan shuffles closer, goes to put a hand on Rash’s knee, then decides against it. “It's just, if that’s all this is then...” Rash is looking at him all quiet concern and it’s making his heart fucking melt.
He steels himself, “If that’s all it is I can’t do it. Like call me old fashioned or whatever but sex is important to me. I don’t just put out for anyone. I mean, like no disrespect to anyone that does, you go for it, but that’s just not me… So if this is just like your big gay awakening or your boy experimentation then I can’t give you that okay, that’s not… that’s not what I want us to be…”
Rash stares at him for a very long moment. It could’ve been a just a couple of seconds or it could’ve been a hundred years; Stefan isn’t too hot on the workings of time right now. But Rash just keeps staring. He’s still staring when he leans forward almost imperceptibly, and when his hand comes up to gently cup Stefan’s cheek. Stefan glances at his hand, then at the floor, then back at Rash. He’s still staring, but now his expression is noticeably softer.
“Stefan… of course that’s not what I want.” he blushes, “like I mean okay eventually yeah but, like, that’s not all I want… Fuck knows I’ve been thinking about this long enough. Like all of it, not just … this.” Running a hand through his hair, he continues, “But I thought you were straight and into my sister and do you know how much that was killing me. Fuck, I mean I thought I was straight for ages as well and … well, this has been a lot to take in y’know. ” he laughs nervously, staring at the ground now. Stefan can feel himself smiling with him.
“There’s another reason I had to pretend to be drunk… I wanted to be able to pretend, that I didn’t remember this if it didn’t go to plan… If you didn’t drink too cos you didn’t like me back an’ there was some other guy. I think that would’ve been worse than you and Leila.” He’s picking at a thread on his jeans refusing to look up at Stefan.
Stefan decides he’d better do something, for the good of a perfectly decent pair of jeans. So he kisses him again. Slower and deeper. Trying to show just how stupid Rash’s worries were through the revered art of kissing. Rash lets out a tiny adorable noise and Stefan huffs a laugh.
“You’re such a twat.” he says into the kiss.
“Fuck off I made the first move. That means I won.”
Stefan breaks away, outraged. “As fuck you did! I won.” He pecks Rash on the nose, “I got you!”
“Oh my god. You are so lame. What shitty romcom is that off?” Rash rolls his eyes, “How did I end up with such a loser?”
“Mm Rash guess what.”
“What.”
“I’m your loser.”
“….Jesus Christ.”