Just One Night || Evan Peters AU

nervous

      Your heart skipped a beat; you said nothing and quickly looked away.

   He gestured to his massive flat screen, "Up there, of course." His voice seemed almost flirty, but you reminded yourself again that this was all a show.

   "No," you said coldly. "I don't care what you put on. Just something to pass the time."

   "Ouch," he turned his attention back to the TV. You two sat in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again. "You want anything to drink? Eat? I have movie popcorn."

   "Tempting but no," you said sarcastically. "But I actually do have a favor to ask."

   This seemed to pique his interest, and he scooted a couple inches closer. "Oh really?"

   You hated whatever idea he thought you were implying, and got on with your actual request. "My parents saw the pictures of us in the papers, or on their Facebook or whatever."

   "Oh," he lost his hopeful expression. "I'm gonna make some of that popcorn for myself, but go on."

   He stood and headed for the connected kitchen, and you went on. "Well they're really.. oblivious, they don't know what one night stands are, really. And they especially wouldn't think I'd be one to have one." you paused, feeling a sudden guilt. You shoved it deep down and continued. "So, they're coming out to visit. Annnd they kind of want to meet you."

   He pressed a few buttons on the microwave and raised his eyebrows with a surprised grin. "Wooww, meeting the parents already. We must really be in love."

   "Stop it, I don't want this to happen any more than you do. But I can't really tell them the truth."

   "Alright, I'll meet 'em. What do you wanna do, your house?"

   "No," you immediately shut the idea down. There was no way he'd be coming to your place. "No, can't we go like, to a restaurant or something?"

   "Oooh good thinking, that'd be a great place to be photographed together. And with your parents?" He watched his food spin in the microwave.

   "No paparazzi please, can we leave my parents out of this mess?"

   "Not even Jerome?" he looked pleadingly at you.

   "The dude taking pictures on his phone when I got here?" you asked, and he nodded. "Fine, he's out of the way enough."

   "Awesome," he got his steaming bag from the microwave and came back to the couch, sitting one cushion closer to you. "So when are they coming?"

   "July 10th, just over two weeks," you told him. "That should give us enough time to learn to act like a normal, real couple."

   "I already can," he threw a piece of popcorn in the air and caught it in his mouth. "It's you that needs work."

   You turned to scowl at him. "I know how to do this. I can make people believe it."

   "Really?" he was teasing now, amused at my offense. "Cause you're nervous just sitting one seat closer to me."

   Your face heated slightly, how could he tell? You wiped your clammy hands on the knees of your jeans and shook your head. "This is all really weird for me, ok? Plus we're alone, there's no one to fool. I don't even know you."

   He proudly popped another piece of his snack in his mouth, "Didn't seem too 'weird' when you were riding m--"

   "Enough," you stood immediately. "God you're... so...."

He stared up at you, patiently waiting for your insult with a mischievous smile: he was really getting a kick out of this. His knee swayed back and forth like a puppy wagging its tail, daring you to continue. You sat back down to disappoint him.

   "Just put a movie on," I mumbled. "I'm out of here the second it's over."

And you were. He'd chosen Shutter Island, which was pretty good. You wondered here and there throughout the film if he was trying to spook you into scooting closer to him, or reaching for his outstretched hand. Just what was he trying to do? Why attempt to build a relationship with you, if it just all leads to nothing? It wasn't helping you ignore the urges you had to give in to his temptations; but you managed.

In your own bed finally at your own house, you lay awake against your will. You couldn't get that blonde girl from his couch out of your mind. 'Just a quick fuck' she'd said. You began tearing her down in your head, but realized quickly you were no better. You just happened to get more than you bargained for after your night with him. Why couldn't it have been her? Maybe she'd love this. A better question yet, why did you find yourself jealous of her?

*****

      A few days later, you were in the last hour of your shift at the deli; this one was thankfully with Kyro. Nova sat in view at one of the tables just outside the door, waiting for you to clock out. You were admiring her style, her dark blue hair cut into a kind of bob that was short in the back and got longer toward the front, her zebra print belt that she didn't care was 'soo last decade', and her perfectly placed falsies, wishing you could wear stuff like that and not care what people thought of you. For the most part you didn't, but wearing anything other than 'the norm' would bring unwanted attention. As if you didn't have enough of that from this whole publicity stunt. She checked her phone screen and came in the shop to lean lazily over one of the display cases.

   "How much longerrrr," she whined. "I wanna go get smoothies."

You looked behind her to the wall clock and saw you had less than an hour, but before you could speak it out loud your phone rang in your front apron pocket. You looked down at it, then to your gloved hands, then to Nova.

   "You mind?" you leaned back slightly so she could fish it out and answer, and she did.

   "Y/N's phone what's up?" she said casually, then went rigid and looked frantically to you.

   "What, what's wrong?" you began removing your gloves as worst case scenarios played in your mind.

   Her breath came out in shallow gasps and she covered the mouthpiece of your phone with a few fingers. "It's Evan fucking Peters!"