Wes Tucker One Shots

He likes you

You and Wes were best friends and had been since you were both 10, you had always been friends, and nothing more.

You had had a party tonight and everyone had left except Wes, so the two of you were cleaning up all of the trash, dancing along to the music you had going.

The song switched to an Elvis song you had put on your playlist a few months back when you had hooked up with your now ex. "I Can't Help Falling in Love with You."

All of a sudden you feel his hands on you hips. Playfully, you swat them off, thinking he was just messing with you. "What are you doing?" you laugh.

"So, Y/N, I have something I've been wanting to tell you for a while now." 

Still thinking he was just playing with you, you starting fighting around with him, "Oh really, what's that dumbass?"

"Y/N, stop, I'm trying to have a real conversation with you?" He says, and by now you know he's not joking.

"What's wrong? Are you sick or something?" You ask.

His face is beet red, "No, it's not that, it's just, I've been friends with you for so long, but recently, it's just been something different... I love you Y/N, there, I said it, I love you."

Now it was your turn for your face to go red. He loves me? 

"And I wanted to ask you out for so long, but I didn't want to ruin what we had, but I just can't keep doing this anymore. And, just, will you go out with me?" He asks.

You had never seen him as anything other than a friend, you were still getting over your breakup with your last boyfriend. It just wasn't something you ever thought happening. You didn't want that with him. "Wes... I-I love you too, but not in that way... I just can't do that Wes... I- no."

Tears started to roll down your cheeks, and you ran into the bathroom. What the hell just happened? What if you guys' relationship is runined?

He came pounding on the bathroom door, "Y/N, I'm sorry, just forget about it. Don't cry, please don't cry." You heard him muttering under his breath, things like "Fuck, what'd I do, fuck, fuck."

But you couldn't open the door, you just didn't want to see him right now. You weren't mad, you just couldn't look at him, you're too upset. 

You ended up crying yourself to sleep on the bathroom floor, and when you woke up, he was gone, with only a note reading I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Over and over again.

Later that day, you tried to call him, but he'd blocked your number, he'd blocked you from everything, and he wouldn't open his apartment. He never talked to you again.