the smoke curls around you both, creating a hazy veil of desire. he sits closer than usual, his leg pressed against yours, the weight of his body radiating heat. with every pass of the blunt between you, his fingers seem to linger just a moment too long on yours.
"you know," he says suddenly, his voice low, "we've been friends for a while now, but tonight feels different." his eyes meet yours, a silent challenge in them, daring you to acknowledge the tension that hangs in the air like smoke.
"no it doesn't," you shake your head with a chuckle, denying it.
he chuckles at your denial, but there's a note of disappointment in his voice. "come on, you can't pretend you don't feel it," he says, holding the blunt between his fingers but not passing it to you. "there's something here, between us."
he leans in a little closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "i think we both know what it is. we just don't want to admit it."
"you're being crazy," you say.
he laughs again, but this time there's a hint of frustration in it. "i'm being crazy?" he echoes, his gaze sharpening. "you're the one who's refusing to acknowledge what's right in front of you."
he moves even closer, his knee pressing against yours, trapping you in place. his eyes search yours, looking for any flicker of recognition.
"stop hiding behind denial," he says, his voice growing more intense. "there's a connection between us, and you know it."
he reaches out, his hand catching your chin and tilting it up, forcing you to meet his gaze. his touch sends a shiver through you, the heat in his eyes burning into you.
"look me in the eyes and tell me you don't feel it," he says, his voice a low, commanding rumble. "tell me you don't want this as much as i do."
"i.. don't-" you stammer.
he closes the distance between you, his body moving impossibly closer, the heat of his breath against your skin. "stop lying," he says, his voice a soft, almost pleading whisper. "i see the way you look at me when you think i don't notice. the way you tense up when i touch you."
he slides his hand from your chin to your neck, his thumb brushing across your pulse point, feeling it flutter wildly.
he chuckles lowly, his thumb continuing to trace circles on your neck. "that's what i thought," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "you can't deny it, can you?"
his other hand comes up to rest on your waist, drawing you even closer. the blunt is long forgotten now, discarded somewhere on the table beside you, smoke still swirling lazily in the air.
he leans in, his lips hovering just millimeters from yours. you can feel the heat of his body, the intensity of his gaze. "i dare you," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. "kiss me. prove to me you don't feel anything."
his hands move to grip your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh, anchoring you in place. his eyes, dark and hungry, search yours, waiting for your response.
"come on," he urges, his voice a rough, velvet caress. "prove your point. kiss me, and prove that this is nothing more than friendship."
