House of Boys

Part 4

Confused and ashamed of last night's events, you got out of bed, brushed your teeth, and ran a brush through your hair. Still in your pyjama bottoms and massive shirt, you slipped an extra-large sweatshirt over your head and went downstairs.

Slowing down when you heard hushed chatter, you couldn't help but listen in.

"You what?" You heard Brian say, shocked about something.

"Shhhh! Dude, shut the fuck up!" It was Shawn.

"You went to bed with her?" Brian again. You felt the heat rising in your chest, positive your cheeks were a bright shade of crimson.

"It's not like that! I tucked her in, and we were both really tired, and I ended up staying," a rush of relief flooded through you. He wasn't outing you for asking him to stay, and he wasn't making shit up. "We just like, snuggled? I don't know, man. I woke up in the middle of the night and realized all this was a little too much for me, especially sin-" the floor board creaked beneath you, and there was only silence. You had no choice but to go fully downstairs.

"Morning, Y/N!" Ian called from the kitchen, occupying himself by pretending to make some toast. Brian gave you a weak smile as Shawn got up and walked past you, his shoulder smacking yours as he passed. Something was wrong, and you were sure it was because of your forwardness last night. You'd crossed a line that hadn't even been drawn.

"Morning, Ian," you responded, faking a smile in his direction. "Shawn okay?"

"Uh, yeah, he's uh, he's just tired. No big deal," Brian said, not allowing for Ian to answer.

It looked like this was about as much information as you were getting.

"You guys cooked for me last night, so, should I make breakfast? What do you guys want?" you asked, walking over to the fridge and pulling out the fresh fruit that they surprisingly had.

"Yep, but only if we can help," Ian pushed, as Matt and Brian got up from where they were sitting and waited for you to assign them roles.

Once finished, the final product was a set table, a stack of pancakes, a bowl of fruit, and a hot pot of coffee. Brian called Shawn up from downstairs, and the five of you sat down to eat.

Everything was going fine until Brian asked how you slept, to which he received a kick under the table from Shawn.

You felt your face go a bit red as you answered, "Fine. I mean, I was really tired. I woke up a little chilly," you eyed Shawn, who refused to meet your gaze, "but it was great. Thank you for letting me stay here."

The boys argued that because they helped make breakfast, Shawn had to clean up. You still insisted on helping, which you hadn't thought through. Brian, Matt, and Ian all got up and went upstairs, leaving you and Shawn in the kitchen, alone, nothing but thick silence between you.

It was you who spoke up first, "So, what was that all about? This morning, you got all upset," you said, unable to meet his gaze.

"Oh, nothing. I went downstairs, the guys were annoying me," he responded insincerely.

"Right, okay. You wash, I'll dry?" you asked as Shawn walked over to the sink and nodded.

No words were exchanged, and you could feel bad vibes coming off of him. He was a toxic energy this morning, and it was almost as if he was having an inner battle with himself. He violently washed the dishes, but handed them to you gently.

Shawn was concentrated on each plate, and you took this time to inspect him. His clear skin glowed as his puffy eyes were fixed on the dishes. His mouth was pursed, but every now and then his pink tongue would peek out to wet his lips. Each time he did this, you felt a wave of warmth deep within you, putting you into a trance. You took note of how broad his shoulders were, and even though his shirt was loose on his middle, it was tight on his chest and arms. Those arms. So strong, but so gentle. You could remember exactly how they felt wrapped around your body the night before, and you wanted nothing more than to feel that again.

These thoughts stopped when he caught you staring.

"Like what you see, sweet cheeks?" he asked, smirking down at the plate in his hands.

You felt yourself go red, embarrassment and anger sneaking up on you.

"No, actually. I don't. At all," you said.

His eyes looked up at you as he was clearly not expecting you to say what you just had. "Really? You seemed to want me last night," he said, placing the wet plate on the counter and turning towards you.

"You know what, Shawn? I don't get you. You torment me forever by flirting with me, as if you like me. But if you did like me, you wouldn't do that. Then, you're all nice? And you get weird again. And then you hold me and fall asleep with me, only to tuck me in and fall asleep with me again, and then you ignore everything the next day and we're back to co-existing as enemies? No, I don't want you. I didn't want you last night and I definitely don't want you now," you said, storming out of the kitchen and going upstairs.

You listened for Shawn, hearing him put the dishes away himself and then tiptoeing downstairs, where you could hear a faint strumming of one of his guitars. He was upset, escaping reality for a few moments. The thought seared at your heart, but he needed to be told what he was doing. He was confusing you, and you needed him to pick one. Love you or hate you.

A faint knocking at your door snapped you out of your thoughts. It was Brian, coming in and sitting down next to you on your bed.

"We heard you, down there. Sorry about him. He's a little... strange?" Brian said, looking at you sympathetically. "You like him, though."

This really woke you up. "Me? Like, Shawn? No, no no no. Shawn's a dick. I could never fall for someone like him," you said, denying your feelings in every way possible.

"Alright, whatever you say, Y/N," Brian smirked, shaking his head, "You'll probably figure out his deal tonight, at the party. A drunk Shawn is a truthful one. If you ask the right questions, he'll answer you honestly. Just think about them wisely, okay?" he asked, one hand on your shoulder.

"Whatever, Brian. I don't like him," you said as Brian got up and walked out of your room, chuckling to himself.

Huh. Do I like Shawn? Sometimes he's such a prick, but other times he's so sweet. And that smile. Those eyes. And those legs. Dear god. The things I'd do to him. Fuck. Maybe I do have feelings for him. You thought to yourself as you laid down on your bed, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep and pretend none of this ever happened. Tonight. Party. Shawn.

You knew exactly what questions you were going to ask.