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Friday night was for getting buzzed with friends, sharing laughs about things that weren’t actually that funny, and making memories that you wouldn’t remember in the morning, and that’s what you had planned for the four of you. A night spent at your place to let loose and act like a stereotypical twenty-something for once, closing out an otherwise boring summer with a bang; Just you, Abs, Seb. and Sam. You considered yourself a genius for coming up with the plan.
6 P.M, Friday. And what have you accomplished so far? You had harvested all your crops, able to get a bountiful harvest right on the cusp of summer losing its firefly filled nights in turn for leaves of red and orange ornamenting the sky. You then accomplished last minute tidying up around the house to make it presentable for a party (although they wouldn’t care about the house’s appearance nonetheless). Not to forget the fairy lights you tossed up around the place, creating a chill atmosphere and making your otherwise naked house look more like a home. A pack of cold ones for four to share? Check. Nice ambiance? Also check.
The only thing missing? Said party attendees to walk through the door.
As if Yoba itself heard your complaint, you get a knock on the door after hearing the sound of wheels rolling across gravel. You know one person who’s sure to follow after such a recognizable noise. While opening the door, you’re met with a familiar pair of blue-green eyes you need to look up to make eye contact with and a head of wild blond hair styled in his signature mullet.
His eyes scan your home. “The place looks sick, dude,” he smiles, and your face gets warmer.
“Thanks, Sam. Only thing I did was put up some lights,” You amusingly reply, instantly comforted by the radiant optimism he’s had since forever. You feel the heat in your cheeks subside after the temporary giddiness of seeing him in the doorway. Was that an appropriate reaction to have? “Where’s Seb and Abby?” You ask over your shoulder as you let him inside, fixing a crooked mirror on the wall.
“Running behind, I guess. Too busy swapping spit,” he jokes, running a hand through his already tousled hair.
“Is someone jealous?” You tease with a quirked eyebrow. You know very well that Seb is late since he lives way up in the mountains, and Abby is just someone who never shows up on time, no matter the occasion.
“Very funny, farmer.” He gives you a look in his eyes that seemed too seductive to be playful; while propping his skateboard against the wall as if he’s in his own place; shrugging his ripped denim jacket off his shoulders he never leaves the house without. The mocking lilt he acquires when saying something to taunt you always manages to make your stomach do that stupid flip thing.
“All jokes aside, you think they’re gonna actually hook up?” You find yourself rummaging through the fridge, tossing him a cold Joja cola as he sits at your table. It’s his favorite. You stock up on those drinks in your fridge, since he’s a frequent guest.
He catches it with ease, and you hear the crisp sound of a soda pull-tab being opened from behind you.
“I think so. I’ve seen they way she looks at him,” he says as he puts the can to his lips, “she’s, like, totally whipped.”
You laugh, sitting on the kitchen counter kicking your legs absentmindedly. Just you and Sam, alone. Some things never change, but still make you nervous.
“They’d make a cute couple,” you say as you open your first beer can of the night, attempting to strike up something to talk about. “I’m excited for the wedding.” You joked.
“Think they’ll wear all black?” he chuckles.
You laugh absentmindedly as you start daydreaming on what your future wedding would be like. Your brain automatically prompting Sam as the role of the groom. Nope, nu-uh. You think to yourself, waving those thoughts away. He was just a friend.
“What would you want for your wedding?” You blurt out. Only one sip of beer—basically still sober—and you let yourself ask him a stupid question like that? You throw back another gulp of your drink.
“I don’t know, haven’t thought about it really,” his eyes turned away from his can of soda and instead focused on you. “Fancy but not fancy, if you get what I mean. I think getting married on the beach would be cool,” he sips his soda.
You nod, trying to be subtle as possible. “Anyone you’re… thinking about?” You can’t stop asking him stupid questions, but a part of you gets butterflies in your stomach, fluttering in anticipation for his response. Two years of sharing secrets behind closed doors in his room, late nights playing video games with him, and your attempts to learn skateboarding and guitar guided by his gentle hands all lead to this moment. A shot in the dark, the pure motivation of hope convincing you to take action.
In the dim lighting, you could’ve sworn you saw his cheeks turn red. “Umm,” he scratches the back of his neck with a sheepish smile, “There’s one person—“
A loud rhythmic knocking against the door tears the both of you out of the moment. You and Sam’s head whips towards the sound, nearly forgetting that you had invited other people.
You hadn’t realized your palms were sweating before you struggle to open the door for them. You can’t get your mind off of what Sam was about to say. Was he thinking about Penny? You? Dear Yoba, was it someone else?
“Who’s ready to par-tayyyy?” Abigail beams as she busts through the doorway, more booze in hand as she holds it above her head. She came prepared, you thought.
Sebastian follows after her, tattoos peeking from under his hoodie sleeve while he murmurs something to Sam who’s nodding vigorously. Half of the time you can never decipher what he says under his breath, but you still find him a nice person to hang out with.
Abby throws her arms around you in a tight hug, purple hair catching the gentle light that decorated your walls.
“Exciting, yeah?” She beams, placing her drinks on the table before grabbing a beer can from your fridge.
“Very.” You smile, overwhelmed in the best way. “Thanks for coming, guys. I was confident that this wouldn’t work out,” you admitted sheepishly.
“We wouldn’t let that happen.” Abby lifts your spirits without any hesitation.
Seb places the box of Solarion Chronicles on your table, and you give him a bewildered look.
“We’re doing Sola tonight?” You ask, clearly puzzled.
Abby gives you a wide mouthed grin. This must’ve been her and Seb were discussing with Sam once they walked through the door. It was a pleasant surprise.
“We thought it would be the perfect night to finish this campaign,” Seb explains with more enthusiasm than usual.
“Oh. Nice,” you grab your character sheet and a pencil and pull up a chair sitting across from Abigail meanwhile Sam sits next to you. His knee brushes against yours as you bounce your foot. You feel a sensation that makes your skin buzz as he acts like he doesn’t notice you.
Sebastian sets everything up for all of you, way faster than it would take with all of your combined efforts somehow, and takes a seat at the head of the table.
“We left off at our quest about the Solarian Staff, rescuing it from Dreadlord Xarth…”
The next few hours went by faster than you could comprehend, sharing laughs and drinks while the party successfully retrieved the staff and became heroes, completing the campaign.
As the game ended, the energy in the atmosphere seemed to shift. The air felt relaxed and the type to beckon you to sleep after the campaign. With none of you ready to call it quits just yet, you find one of your old movies to turn on after digging through your boxes of VHS that you’ve become too attached to over the years in order to get rid of them. You have a dated filmography, due to majority of the films you have being from your childhood; somehow leading to an argument over Disney films while the you all sit on the couch.
“Beauty and the Beast over Mulan? That’s ass-backwards, dude,” Sam debates with Sebastian, albeit both too passionate about the topic at hand.
“But you thinking Mulan is better? Really? It’s not even a fair argument. Both have completely different vibes. Beauty and the Beast is clearly superior anyhow—“ Seb retorts, both now commencing a semi-shouting match appropriate for six year-old.
Abigail snorts while she watches it all go down, thoroughly entertained enough that all she needs is a comically large bucket of popcorn.
“Children, children!” You shout, able to overpower their voices as you wave both VHS’s in your hands, getting off of the couch. “Both are fine. Just rock-paper-scissors it over which we should watch!” You attempt to settle their squabbling. “please,” You add to be polite. After more excessive quarreling, they agree to settle the debate that way.
Abby does the countdown… and Sam throws scissors, Seb throws paper. He throws his hands up in victory, and you find his excitement too endearing.
“And it looks like it’s Mulan,” Abigail announces with a grandiose tone. Seb mumbles something under his breath among the lines of unfairness and how he “should’ve known Sam would pick scissors.”
You pop the tape into your VCR, somewhat embarrassed about keeping your crusty hand-me-down CRT television as you sit down on the couch after Sam pats the empty space next to him. Courtesy of Sebastian, he decides to make some popcorn in the microwave for all four of you. You think that it must’ve taken three bags to be enough for all of you to share.
Halfway through the film, you have almost fallen asleep around three times, barely eating your share of popcorn. Eventually, you succumb to the temptation to close your eyes, your head falling to rest on the blond’s shoulder. He doesn’t move an inch.
You were torn out of your slumber as you feel the support for your head disappear, watching Sam head back to the kitchen to get another drink. You follow shortly after him, hoping the buzz of the alcohol would get you out of your drowsy slump as he gets one out the fridge and tosses one to you.
“You alright?” He asks you, his voice nearly a whisper, studying your face and noticing the subtle dark circles under your eyes. He turns to rest his elbows on the counter while his back is pressed against it.
“I’m ok, just tired,” you open your can while you feel your face flush. He slides a bit closer to you.
“I get it. You’re busy, like, all the time… you fell asleep on me.” He taps his finger against his can, “and you never do that on movie nights.”
“Didn’t know I was that tired,” you share a weary smile as you see Abby and Seb huddled up on the couch a bit too close to not be called cuddling, fully invested in the movie Seb swore he didn’t want to see. “But I’m having fun tonight with you guys.”
“And I’m having fun with you too,” Sam says, looking over to you with a slight red in his cheeks. “As usual,” he adds humorously, scratching the back of his neck for an nonexistent itch.
The second time he’s done that tonight, you note to yourself.
“I’m never bored around you anyways,” you say.
After a beat of somewhat uncomfortable silence that seemed to last too long, you’re able to break the quiet with a question just as jarring.
“I want to ask—who were you gonna say when we were talking about what we wanted for our weddings?
More quiet.
“I was… I was talking about you.” He says to you quietly, the air between you still, his sentence hangs in the air, unable to dissolve into the background. “You’re the ‘one person’.”
“I had a feeling you liked me,” you said, letting out an internal heavy sigh at the relief of saying it out loud. Your hand stealthily intertwines with his free one.
“Was it that obvious?” He snickers.
“Only a little… was my crush on you obvious?”
“No,” he laughs.
He exchanges a glance with you, dusty turquoise eyes rimmed with hazel that drifted down to your lips, catching the golden flicks of fairy lights in all the right places. You get those same sparks buzzing under your skin, feeling the urge to finally card your fingers through the blond mullet of his. His lip and ear piercings that reflect the light right back at you; and a crooked smile that makes your heart stutter. He really is more beautiful up close.
The two of you say nothing, yet you understand everything that isn’t being said. This should’ve been done a while ago.
You can feel yourself getting pulled closer, resting your arms on his shoulders and his calloused, guitar-playing fingertips circle around your waist and practically radiate warmth through your top, providing a newfound sensation that you can’t quite put your finger on yet.
He leans in closer, unable to tear his eyes off of your lips.
“Is this… okay?” He breathed, just inches away from making contact with your lips. The contact you’ve been dying for without realizing until now.
“It’s perfect,” you responded.
You lean in tentatively, pausing for a short second as everything processes within you. This is happening, you breathe shakily. He pulls you in, putting a halt to your hesitation, ultimately being able to satisfy that sweet craving you’ve never wanted to confess you had. You finally get to see how that lip piercing feels against yours, how the piercing of the silver ball on his tongue would caress the roof of your mouth and be able to explore places you’ve only dreamed about.
Your hands travel up his neck, holding a fistful of his hair as you both find a familiar rhythm, like this was practiced beforehand. The sounds emitting from your television soon faded into obscurity, so did Seb and Abigail’s idle chatter over the film. He was tender— gentle, and the slightest bit of nervous. You thought it was charming. He starts to feel hungrier, yearning for touch. His hands begin to roam, and your instincts guide you to do the same. You can feel him smile against your mouth as you kiss him and those butterflies start up again. You almost trip over each other while practicing melting into one, bumping against the counter along with a muffled giggle.
Your moment is quickly interrupted as your hip knocks over his drink can as he sits you on the counter, hitting the tiled floor with a metallic thud that seemed to bounce off the walls as beer spills onto kitchen tile.
You curse to yourself as Abby turns herself around on the couch, mouth agape. You and Sam practically tear yourselves off of each other, but his hands remain on your hips.
“Hey, maybe make out when we aren’t here next time?” She calls out. Her comment was able to bring Sebastian’s attention away from the screen and onto the scene in the kitchen instead.
“Holy shit,” he says, a smirk on his face.
You and Sam quickly make eye contact with each other before bursting into laughter.
“I’m so sorry,” he laughs, instantly beginning to clean up the mess he made as he leaves you on the counter.
“It’s fine,” you smile, grabbing a paper towel to aid him.
“Can we… try that again later?” He asks with a crooked smile.
“I’ll think about it,” you wink.