Why Don't We One Shots

Car sex, Zach Herron

Warning: contains mature sexual content!!

It was a warm evening when they found themselves walking side by side, her fingers brushing against his as they made their way to the concert. The air hummed with the excitement of the crowd, but between them, there was something else, a quiet pulse they both felt but didn't speak of. They had been friends for years, always a little more comfortable with each other's silences and always a little closer than people expected. That night something changed.
He made her laugh as usual, whispering something absurd about the guitarist's dramatic hair flip, and she grinned, shoving him playfully. She didn't know what it was about his humor that always made her laugh harder than anyone else's, but she couldn't help it. They had that thing between them, the kind of rapport that felt effortless, like two people who knew each other too well to be embarrassed about anything.
The music was intense, vibrating in their bones, but the whole time she kept catching herself watching him instead of the stage. She'd never really noticed how the curve of his jaw softened when he smiled, or how his laugh—loud and unrefined—was so genuine that it felt like an invitation into some private corner of his world. His smile would make her smile immediately.
When the concert ended and the crowd spilled out into the streets, she felt a strange mix of relief and something else, but she couldn't make out what. They both fell into the rhythm of the walk back to the car, her hand brushing his again, just a fleeting touch that made her stomach flip, though she didn't dare let him see.
"Do you think it's possible to get tired of this, Zach?" she asked, keeping her voice light, trying to make it sound like just another thought, like nothing had changed.
"Get tired of you?" he said, glancing at her with a grin. "Impossible."
And in the way he said it, so effortlessly, she could only smile at the thought of it. The drive home was easy, filled with comfortable silence. He hummed along to the radio, barely catching the lyrics, and she caught herself watching him. She'd always admired the way he never took life too seriously, how he could find joy in the simplest things, how he had to make things fun no matter what. But now, as his voice filled the car, rough and carefree, she noticed how it made something inside her stir; this wasn't just about friendship anymore. The familiar ache of longing settled in her chest. This shouldn't be happening.
"I mean..." she started, her voice quieter now, unsure of the words. "We've always been good at this. Good at being us. Right?"
He glanced at her again, and she could see the flicker of something she wasn't ready to recognize.
"Yeah," he said, his smile fading into something more thoughtful. "I guess we are." When we finally got to the car, he sat down in the driver-seat and took a deep breath like he was about to say something, but he didn't. He just stared at her and she noticed his eyes had a different look in them this time, they were hungry for more, and it was a dangerous game.

"I shouldn't. I shouldn't think these things about you." Zach seemed to be mostly talking to himself, but she still wanted to get a word in. He admired the way her features looked under the streetlights, and wondered if he could ever get to be as lucky as to touch her the way he wanted.

"What do you mean? What are you thinking?" Her heart started beating faster and her eyebrows furrowed.

He groaned and she felt his frustration even from afar. "You were right about what you said, we're good at being us, but I'm starting to think maybe we're a little too good, even more than you think."

She grinned slightly. "Of course, one of my many qualities. I'm always right."

He let out a short laugh. "You're fucking annoying sometimes, you know that?"

Her grin grew wilder. "Watch your language, Zach," hearing his name come out of her mouth seemed to snap something in him and she suddenly felt a soft touch on her lips. His lips were soft and his kiss was tender, maybe even uncertain. As if he was waiting for her to push her away, which she probably should have, but she decided against it and kissed him back instead.