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Was this little plan ridiculous? Yes, of course.
Was it badly thought-out and likely to end in tears? Absolutely, without a doubt.
And was Arrash going to do it anyway? Yes. Yes, he was.
And the reason for that was sitting right next to him on the sofa, wearing a confident smile and a t-shirt that showed off his strong arms, and raising his eyebrows expectantly. Stefan’s little plans for how they should spend their evenings usually ended up in some kind of disaster - sometimes with hazard of death involved, sometimes not - and yet somehow, Arrash always seemed to find himself going along with them.
It was that smile. The one that Arrash couldn’t even look at without smiling back, the one that made his heart flip in his chest.
The one that also drove him absolutely up the wall, of course.
“So, come on then,” Stefan said. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”
“Shut up,” Arrash said, feeling as though he should at least pretend to put up some resistance. Stefan, however, was as unperturbed by Arrash’s grumpiness as always. He smiled, leaning back lazily against the back of the sofa, knowing that he’d already won.
“Go on, tell me.”
“What if I don’t have anything to tell?” Arrash asked, being stubborn just for the sake of it. Their living room was lit up by the soft yellow of the lamp that he’d bought a few weeks before, and the warm shadows in the room made the whole room feel different - more comfortable, and more intimate, somehow. Stefan and Arrash were sitting on the sofa with their bodies turned towards each other, and the closeness between them was making Arrash’s heart start to beat a little faster.
“Everyone’s got moves, Rash,” Stefan said. “Come on. You’re out at the bar, and you see someone you like. What do you say?”
His eyes were sparkling with mischief, and just for a second, Arrash wondered whether Stefan was screwing with him - but no, surely not. There was no way that Stefan could know how Arrash felt about him. This was just another one of his stupid games.
Arrash folded his arms. He stopped looking at Stefan, and focused on the coffee table in front of them instead.
“I say ‘oi, give us your number’,” he said. Stefan snorted, and Arrash couldn’t help the half-smile that crept over his face. “I don’t know, Stef.”
“Yes, you do.” Stefan propped his elbow up on the back of the sofa, resting his cheek on the heel of his hand. “Like, so if I see someone I like, I’ll say to them, like…” He paused for a second, and Arrash risked a glance up at him - only to see Stefan wearing a charming smile that made his heart sink with longing. “I’ll say, like, hey. How’s it going? ” He tipped Arrash a wink. Arrash waited for more, but Stefan fell silent.
“What?” Arrash said. “That’s it?”
“That’s it,” Stefan confirmed smugly.
“What, and it works?”
“Yep,” Stefan said. “Sixty percent of the time, every time.”
It was Arrash who snorted with laughter, this time, rolling his eyes and uncrossing his arms.
“Your turn,” Stefan said. Arrash sighed. He knew full well that if he didn’t give Stefan something to work with, he wouldn’t hear the end of it for days. Weeks, possibly. And if they ever went out together, Stefan would probably spend most of his time watching Arrash to try to see what moves he was pulling on the people he flirted with.
Not that Stefan having all of his attention focused on Arrash when they went out would be such a bad thing…
“Ugh,” Arrash said aloud. “Fine. Well… sometimes I do this thing where I kind of lean in…” God, what was he doing? He leant in a little closer to Stefan, who didn’t move away. Arrash met his eyes, and Stefan wiggled his eyebrows saucily a couple of times. “No, don’t - you idiot, I can’t do it if you make faces!”
“I wasn’t!”
“You just did!”
“OK, OK, fine. No more faces.”
Arrash narrowed his eyes, and Stefan raised a hand and put the other on his chest.
“Cross my heart,” he said.
Arrash leaned in again. Stefan kept his face blank - for all of two seconds, and then he puffed out his cheeks like a monkey.
“Stef! ”
“That was the last one -”
“No, I’m not doing this, you’re an idiot. I should go to bed…”
“No, no, come on,” Stefan said, putting his hand on Arrash’s shoulder to keep him sat down on the sofa. Arrash willed himself not to look down at the hand, not to make a big deal out of it. He swore he could feel something like sparks running through his body, like electricity, whenever they touched - and wasn’t that just the worst cliché in the world.
“You don’t even really want to know, you’re just making fun of me -”
“I’m not! Come on, I told you what I do. It’s only fair.” Arrash wished he wanted to get up and walk away, but he couldn’t deny how much he wanted to stay here, and be a total moron, and pretend to flirt with Stefan. He knew this was a terrible idea. He knew it. But there was something about Stefan that he could never bring himself to want to resist.
So, again, Arrash leaned closer. He met Stefan’s eyes.
This time - this time it was different, somehow. Stefan seemed to sense it, too, in the way that Arrash looked at him. His face went still, and relaxed, his eyes widening. Arrash looked at him, flirting the only way he knew how - with total honesty.
“I’ll just lean in,” he said. It was dangerous, but - screw it. He let his voice fall into a lower register, let his eyes dip down to Stefan’s lips and back up to his eyes - spoke of his attraction with his body, more than with his words. “And I’ll say something like… hey, I’ve seen you around here before, right?”
“Yeah,” Stefan said - and did Arrash imagine it, or did Stefan’s voice sound huskier, too? “Yeah, I live here.”
“No way,” Arrash said, letting his voice be warm, and low, and sincere, his focus all on Stefan - exactly where it wanted to be, exactly where he kept stopping it from resting. For a few moments, Arrash told himself, he could play pretend. He could allow himself this. It was just a game. “I can’t believe we never spoke before. You look amazing, tonight, by the way.”
“Oh, stop it,” Stefan said, obviously trying to regain some of his levity, but there was a hollowness to it, now - a sense that something more important was going on, that he was grasping to cover. Arrash didn’t let up. Stefan had asked for this, after all.
“No, I mean it,” he said. “You look so good.” He let his eyes roam again, dropping to run down Stefan’s neck, over soft skin, back up to his lips… he allowed his gaze to linger. Stefan’s lips were pink and they parted slightly as Arrash watched, and any thought that Arrash had of performing disappeared completely for a long moment - he was lost in the shape of Stefan’s mouth, the way that he could imagine it would feel…
Stefan drew in a breath - and leaned just a little closer.
Arrash looked up into his eyes, and realised how close they’d become - had he been moving nearer, all this time? They were practically in each other’s laps - and for a second, the moment wavered. They were so close, so close, and they were staring into each other’s eyes, and Arrash’s heart was pounding in his chest as Stefan didn’t look away - and still didn’t - and still didn’t...
“So… that’s your move,” Stefan said, barely a murmur, not shifting an inch. Arrash swallowed, and watched Stefan’s eyes drop to his throat to watch it move, his mouth still slightly open. Arrash clenched his fist.
“Yeah,” he said. “That’s… that’s about it.”
“And then?” Stefan said. There was a catch in his voice, just a small one - and a look in his eyes that asked a question.
Arrash took in a breath, his pulse racing wildly even though he held himself so still. He’d never get another chance like this.
“And then,” Arrash said; his throat stuck for a moment. Stefan was watching him like there was no one else in the world, and Arrash let himself draw courage from it. He finished, trying not to sound too hopeful, “Then… we... kiss.”
“We kiss?” Stefan said, and for a moment Arrash thought that he was going to move closer - but he seemed to stop himself.
“Yes,” Arrash murmured. He looked into Stefan’s eyes and couldn’t stop himself from saying it. “Please.”
Stefan hesitated no longer. His hand came up to cup Arrash’ cheek with a gentleness that made Arrash’s heart twist, and in one swift, smooth movement, he pressed their lips together.
And Arrash couldn’t help smiling into it as he kissed Stefan back, and kissed him back some more, and kissed and kissed and kissed Stefan Kowolski back some more. Arrash thought he might explode with happiness, thought that maybe it was only Stefan’s hands on him that held him together... and if so, Arrash thought - well, Stefan would just have to keep pressing his hands to the back of Arrash’s neck, keep drawing Arrash closer, keep holding him together with the touch of his palms. That was no bad thing.
As it turned out, Arrash thought, later, not all of Stefan’s plans ended in disaster. Most of them, sure. But not this time.