Just One Night || Evan Peters AU

sober

      "Evan," your eyes darted all around you guys to make sure no one was looking, and you tried gently to pry him off of you. "I'm not your girl, get off and tell me what happened." 

His glossy, puppy-dog eyes met yours, "I didn't know who else to call." 

He looked at you like you were his guardian angel that had saved his life. You thought of the many agents he could've called, or how many fan girls would love to be in your shoes at the moment. You both knew he had options... but he thought of you first.

"So pretty," he kept that lazy grin while looking you up and down. "Where were you? Can we go home?"

You looked back and forth between his eyes, he was completely elsewhere. Maybe you could just get him home, set some water next to him and sneak out without him even remembering this incident.

"Yeah," you gave him a hand in getting up. "Let's get you home."

On the traffic-packed 25 minute ride to his house, the driver kept looking skeptically at you both in his rearview mirror. Rightfully so, you had a tipsy guy with a bloody nose trying to lay completely horizontal over your lap in the backseat. You'd attempt to correct and reprimand him, but he only giggled and batted his eyes at you. You and the driver were equally grateful when you arrived at Evan's house.

"Can you walk normally now?" you asked as he hobbled out of the vehicle. He nodded, but still requested to hold your hand for some stability. You shut out your feelings for him and obliged, only until you reached his front door.

He managed to pull his key from his pocket to open the door, and gestured for you to go in with, "Ladies first."

Once inside, he took a seat in the middle of his dining room table, legs dangling over the edge a few inches above the floor. He swung them back and forth and smiled at you, then touched the dry blood from his nose.

"Don't mess with it I'm getting you a rag," you told him, wetting a washcloth that sat next to the sink. Once it was thoroughly saturated, you approached the smiling boy on the table. "Now tell me exactly what happened, including why you were at my job."

He winced slightly as you gently wiped at his nose, then said, "I don't know why I was there. I was mad at you before."

You scoffed, "Yeah I'm not exactly your biggest fan right now either."

"But then I just missed hanging out with you," he admitted, eyes locked on you. "I wanted to see you. Ow."

"Sorry," you'd started rubbing a bit too rough, irked by his words. "Okay, how'd you end up getting hit?" you went back to the sink to rinse the old blood out, and left it hang over the side to dry.

"Some guy I've never seen before came up to me all upset," he shook his head in confusion, recalling the encounter. "Something about his girlfriend, said my girlfriend threw a drink in her face?"

Scratching the side of your neck, guilt crept in as you realized you were the reason he was basically attacked tonight. You turned back to him, "Does your head hurt, do you need an ice pack?" He shook for no, and got to his feet.

"Can we just eat something and relax?" He asked, getting a little closer to you. "I'm almost sober. I don't wanna be alone."

You met his gaze, and against your better judgment, nodded a moment later. He flashed a thankful smile, and led you to the couch where he told you he'd Doordash something from one of the fast food joints down the road. You kept as quiet as possible, you both did; whatever movie Netflix suggested first was the only noise in the room until the food arrived. Even then, all he said was 'I'll get it,' then brought it in and you two ate without a peep. An hour had passed; you had so much to say but neither of you seemed to want to start. It felt nice to ignore the issues even for just a while, and be with each other like you used to, pretending nothing was wrong. Finally, you stood, and he watched you intently.

"Are you good now?" you asked.

"Good as in sober, yes," he swallowed his last bite before responding. "But good with the idea of you leaving? No."

You gave him a disheartened look that said, 'what more do you want from me?'

He grabbed the remote from the coffee table and switched the TV off, then stood to be face to face with you. He tilted his head slightly, "Why'd you come?"

You gulped as subtly as you could, and broke eye contact. You suddenly felt very vulnerable, and didn't have a good answer for him. He took a step forward, only a couple feet between you now.

"Why did you come when I called?" He repeated with clarification.

"I don't know, okay? Maybe you weren't the only one that got attached." You threw your hands up in defeat. "I can't control it or stand it, but for some reason I really care about you."

His eyes gleamed and the corner of his mouth twitched up with the beginning of a smirk, but it fell away just as fast. And then, his face was just inches from yours as he looked back and forth from your eyes to your lips. You saw his arms lift slightly and felt his hands on your waist. His head tilted so your noses didn't bump, and he hovered there as your heart pounded out of your chest.

"I-I thought," you stuttered in a whisper. "Kissing meant falling in love?"

Another hint of a smile, and he spoke, "I think you know it's a little late for that," then licked his lips before connecting them to yours.