BL ONESHOTS NO.5

⁸²⁰🥵Alan x Jeff

"You're going to wear that?" Jeff said, his voice filled with a mix of amusement and incredulity as he looked at Alan's outfit for the night.

Alan glanced down at his well-tailored shirt and slacks. "What's wrong with it?"

"You're going to a rock concert, not a funeral," Jeff quipped, his eyes dancing with mischief.

Alan rolled his eyes. "It's a music festival, Jeff, not a rock concert."

"Whatever," Jeff said with a shrug, "but you're going to stick out like a sore thumb."

The two friends were standing in Jeff's living room, surrounded by the typical trappings of a bachelor pad—a worn-out couch, a few mismatched chairs, and a collection of beer bottles scattered across the coffee table. The walls were plastered with posters of various rock bands, and the faint scent of incense filled the air.

Jeff was dressed in his usual attire—a faded black t-shirt, torn jeans, and a leather jacket that had seen better days. His hair was styled into a messy mop that looked like he had just rolled out of bed, but somehow it worked for him.

"You know, you could try to look like you're enjoying yourself once in a while," Jeff said, his voice playful.

Alan couldn't help but smile at his friend's antics. "I enjoy things in my own way, Jeff."

The banter between them was easy and familiar, a dance they had performed countless times before. Yet, beneath the surface, there was something else—a tension that had been building for years, something that neither of them had dared to acknowledge.

As they stepped out into the cool night air, the distant throb of the music grew louder, a pulsing beat that seemed to resonate within Jeff's very soul. Alan, on the other hand, felt a twinge of apprehension. The festival was Jeff's world, a place where he felt at home among the rebels and the misfits. Alan, the responsible one, had agreed to come along for the experience, despite his reservations.

The night was alive with the sound of laughter and the smell of greasy food from nearby food trucks. The neon lights of the festival's many attractions cast a kaleidoscope of colors across the sea of people, creating a surreal and electrifying atmosphere.

They made their way through the crowded festival grounds, Jeff navigating with ease as he led Alan to the main stage. The music grew louder, the vibrations from the bass thumping through their chests. Alan felt a strange mix of excitement and anxiety, the kind of feeling that comes from stepping into the unknown.

Jeff grabbed two beers from a passing vendor and handed one to Alan. "Here," he said, "this will help you loosen up."

Alan took a tentative sip, feeling the cold liquid slide down his throat. He watched as Jeff downed his beer in one go, his eyes never leaving his friend's face. There was something in that look—something that made Alan's stomach flip-flop and his heart race.

The crowd grew denser as they approached the stage, and Jeff wrapped an arm around Alan's waist, pulling him closer to keep from getting separated. The warmth of Jeff's body was comforting, and Alan couldn't help but lean into him, feeling the beat of the music sync with their hearts.

As the first band took the stage, Jeff's eyes lit up with excitement, and Alan found himself getting swept up in the moment. They sang along to the lyrics, their bodies moving in time with the music. For a brief moment, Alan forgot about the tension between them, lost in the rhythm of the night.

But as the hours passed and the drinks flowed, the tension grew stronger, coiling tighter like a spring about to snap. The air was thick with it, a silent third presence that neither of them could ignore.