Kit Connor Imagines

Mastermind

summary: you accidentally bumped into kit at a house party, or did you?
TW: consumption of alcohol

"oh my god, i'm so sorry!" your hand immediately reached out, trying desperately to dry off some of the liquid staining Kit's top. this isn't how anyone plans to spend their friday-nights-turned-saturday-past-midnight, right? the laugh that escapes him is an embarrassed one, it doesn't sound forced though, thankfully. "it's fine, i wasn't looking where i was going."

"me neither, and i was the one holding the drink. so it's totally my fault!" you wince, preparing for whatever reaction he's going to have to the words leaving your mouth.

"really, it's fine. if you want, i can make you a new one?" you smile at that. a small smile, yet a knowing one. maybe cunning would also fit the description.

"that sounds nice! let's see how good you really are at mixing drinks. i've heard some things."

that's how after a short t-shirt cleaning session and a few minutes spent mixing drinks, you and Kit ended up on the couch, conversing with each other.

you hated parties. and maybe hatred was a strong word, but you wholeheartedly despised them. you loathed sitting on a couch, in a house you've never been to before, with people you've never seen before. the place reeks of smoke, sweat and every other smell one does not want to encounter on what should be a fun night.

but sometimes, just sometimes, wise people do things they don't like for the result they get out of them.

which is exactly why you were where you were earlier that evening, staring at the back of Kit Connor's head at 11:42 p.m. on a friday night, waiting for the right moment to strike, setting the plan you and your friends had carefully crafted in motion.

it's only a few moments later that you stand up and move towards the kitchen, where he's currently talking to a friend of his. you're drawn to him like a moth to a flame or like a moon to its designated planet, circling him endlessly, waiting for acknowledgement.

the drink you prepared for this, step two as your friends called it, was resting in your hand. you held it carefully, it couldn't spill. not yet, at least. the minute his friend leaves, you're brushing past them, accidentally bumping into the door, your drink spilling out from the red plastic cup, the weight you had grown familiar to leaving your hand as it lands on Kit Connor, wearing a black t-shirt in the kitchen of some nobody's house.

this was it.

"you know, i lied to you when we met." it's weird that you're telling him this now, looking at his familiar form sitting opposite of you on the couch you share. it's been multiple months since you met, yet you were telling him this now. on one of the days off he spends in the flat you share.

"i told you i'd only heard of you that evening because you were mixing some drinks for people, that was a lie. i had planned everything out like ages before that, i knew i was gonna bump into you and that i'd be all apologetic and everything."

you honestly don't understand why you keep talking. maybe it's because of the silent understanding between you two. you get him and he gets you. maybe it's some part of your consciousness, a voice forcing you to tell you to be true to both yourself and him.

still, you can't meet his eyes. "it's messed up, i know. but i didn't wanna just go up to you and tell you that i thought you were attractive, you know?"

he laughs. he laughs and you stare at him and want to slap him for laughing when you're spilling your deepest darkest secrets out for him to listen to, especially when they regard the very foundation on which the two of you built your relationship.

"you think i didn't know?" oh.

suddenly, looking at him isn't as difficult anymore. you're gawking, mouth hung open just the tiniest bit and you have a difficult time removing your eyes from his.

"what do you mean, kit?" "it's such a cliché to accidentally bump into someone with your drink at a house party and instantly hit it off with them. also, you were staring at me so much it was kinda hard to miss."

the blush that covers your face at that makes you feel uncomfortable. "why didn't you say anything!"

"you got what you wanted! and it would've been way too heartbreaking if your plan would've gone to waste like that."

he smiles, you pout. "you seriously knew the whole time and didn't say anything?" he just nods again, which worsens the redness spreading on your face.

"you're a mastermind, i'll give you that."