Don't Go There

NYE

[a/n: this fic was recently rewritten entirely. if the comments don't make sense that's why!]

       You noticed after having to ask Aunt Juniper for a couple make up products you didn't own that you may have been putting a little more efforts into your looks tonight than usual. Which was a problem. It was 8:30pm, so would be headed over to Alex's sometime in the next twenty minutes. Simon had come to pick up your aunt hours ago, so they could go out around town before settling at his place with a few friends to watch the ball drop. He was a huge guy, towering probably two feet over both of you, with a dark beard and piercings all the way up his ears and a ring in his septum. He seemed nice enough, and a good match for Aunt Juniper.

You had to get a grip, and constantly remind yourself daily how little time you had left in town. Every day, though, it became harder and harder to fight how you were feeling for Alex. Only 15 days left. And you wouldn't be able to handle long distance. He had only invited you over for New Years because he'd be alone otherwise. Whether that were true or not you didn't really know anymore, but it's what you'd have to keep convincing yourself.

~

Your heart pounded as you knocked on Alex's door, and you tried to settle it before he answered. Get it together, you thought to yourself, He sees you platonically only.

The way his friendly smile faded into an parted lips once-over almost changed your mind. His eyes came back up to your face finally, and he cleared his throat. You were suddenly aware of how tight your clothes were.

"You made it," he beamed, stepping back so you could come in.

The TV was on, set to a channel playing pop songs as fireworks went off, and you assumed it would show the ball drop in a few hours. 9pm seemed like a late time to come over to someone's house, but since you two were guaranteed to be staying up until midnight anyway, it was reasonable. On the coffee table, you noticed a bottle of holiday edition Captain Morgan: it claimed to be gingerbread spiced, but you doubted its flavor.

"Didn't take you for a drinker," you blurted out as you sat your purse on the arm of the couch; it came out ruder than you'd intended.

He followed your gaze to the bottle as he shut and locked the front door, then looked back to you. "Oh I'm not, it's my dad's. The only thing I could find that might be tolerable, really. Unless you're a Tequila girl."

You held a hand up defensively and scrunched your nose at even the thought of that burning its way down your throat.

"Didn't think so," Alex commented with a grin. "I can put it away."

"No it's fine, it's New Years. I've just..." you paused, preparing to sound like a total loser, "Never actually drank. Well, no more than a sip of a margarita before."

"Do you want to? Might make the time go a little faster, help you let loose," he grabbed the bottle by the neck. "We don't have to, but I think it'd be fun with you."

That damn smile of his could convince you of anything. You walked over and grabbed the drink from him, "Got any shot glasses?"

~

   Almost three hours and six shots each later, you two could not stop babbling on and giggling. We were sat next to each other on his couch, slapping each other's shoulder anytime the other same something even remotely funny. You both had spilled the drink on the floor in multiple spots, and even disrupted poor Shiloh's beauty sleep; he left the room long ago.

"Wait wait, so you're telling me," Alex managed to gasp between snorts of laughter. "You told me you'd fell in puddle because you'd actually laughed so hard you peed your pants?!"

"Shut up I was like seven," you wheezed back.

"God, my first impression of you was spot on," he wiped a tear. "You are weird."

"Oh, wait, dude," you scrambled around the couch, digging your hand between cushions trying to find the remote; the TV was down to the two minute countdown. "Where's the remote?"

"I ate it," Alex slurred his words, then burst out laughing again.

"You're dumb," you shook your head with a giggle. You found the remote under the edge of his thigh then, and grabbed it to turn the volume up.

"Jesus it's hot, are you hot?" He asked, wobbling a bit while trying to stand and tugging on the bottom of his shirt. "I gotta get this off."

He pulled the bottom of his shirt up clumsily, and you laughed nearly to tears when he got it stuck on his head and was mumbling profanities from inside his polyester cocoon -- it wasn't as funny when he actually managed to get it off. You couldn't bring yourself to look away from his bare skin, his flawless body. Your mind wandered a bit: what would it be like to touch him right now?

"W-What do you want to do when it hits 12?" you asked turning away from him just a little too fast. The room rippled a bit. The announcers on TV were down to twenty seconds now. "Go outside banging pots and pans together?!"

"Mmm..." he plopped back down next to you, and inch closer than before. "I think we should kiss."

Your brain seemed to glitch trying to piece together what else he could've possibly meant to say there. Blood rushed to your face, and your heart had to have stopped as you realized he wasn't correcting himself. You suddenly felt a bit more sobered.

"I mean," he shrugged nonchalantly. "Isn't that what people usually do on New Year's? For, luck or something?"

"I think so, yeah," you played it cool, hoping the color of your cheeks weren't giving you away. "Might as well, right? For luck."

You wanted this. Man, did you want this. But you'd told yourself so many times not to go there.

Alex glanced at the TV, then back over to you, and visibly gulped as he purposely inched closer.

Maybe tomorrow we'd both pretend this never happened, maybe neither of you two would even remember it. It was just for luck anyway, right?

Five...
Get a grip. It was just a quick peck for good luck on New Years. Everything could definitely stay normal after this.

Four...
You blinked a few times, you couldn't believe this beautiful boy -- your Alex -- was getting closer and closer.

Three...
He let his eyes flutter shut and his hand landed to rest on your thigh. If your heart beat any faster, you'd swear he would actually hear it. You closed your eyes then, too.

Two...
You could feel heat coming from him, and smell the ginger on his breath as his lips brushed yours; you had to have him.

One.

It was like all bets were off, all restrictions and attempts to be subtle long gone from both your minds. His hands flew to your face as you pulled him to you by the collar of his shirt, pressing your lips together as fast as you both could.