House of Boys

Part 5

The music downstairs was vibrating your bedroom walls as you got ready to socialize. You'd been hiding in your room all day after your little altercation with Shawn, nervous to be confronted by him and embarrassed of your words. Because of this, you needed to look good. You threw an oversized off-the-shoulder knit sweater on, intending to tease him with a little bit of your collarbone peeking out. Slipping into your favourite jeans that did wonders for your ass, you tousled your hair and touched up your lip gloss. Deciding that this was about as good as it was going to get, you spritzed yourself with a sweet but musky perfume and headed downstairs.

It wasn't anything too crazy yet. About twenty people lined the room, talking amongst themselves, red cups in hand. You headed over to the fridge and grabbed a beer. You weren't particularly keen on getting shitfaced tonight, figuring you'd done enough damage the evening before. You mingled for a bit, cleaning up after people and making sure the food was in order. Everyone seemed to be having fun—it wasn't anything wild and it didn't get much busier. It was laid-back, which was kind of nice. A very serious game of beer pong was taking place in the kitchen when you finished your second drink, feeling a little tipsy.

You wondered where everyone had gone. A few people were in the kitchen, but that was it. You listened carefully, filtering out the commotion in the other room, and you thought you could hear some stirring downstairs. Pushing yourself up off then couch, you walked over to the basement steps and could hear the strumming of a guitar and an angelic voice filling the basement. You grabbed another drink and followed the sound in search of the source. About fifteen people were sitting around, lost in the music. Craning your neck around the railing, you realized where Shawn had been all night. He was downstairs, singing and strumming along, completely at peace. For just a split second, your anger towards him faded and you heart swelled. It was a beautiful sight and he was a beautiful boy, and you wanted nothing more than to take him into your arms and hold him forever.

His smile was wide as his head bopped along. A faint crimson stained his cheeks, indicating that he was decently drunk. No wonder he was so happy.

He looked up from the guitar, taking notice of you for the first time since you lost your shit on him earlier that morning. His smile grew wider as he stopped playing, placing the guitar down on its stand and getting up from his spot.

Instinctually, you crossed your arms and stood up straight, ready for whatever was coming. Like a floppy puppy, he sauntered over to you on unsteady legs and cupped your cheeks with his massive hands. Unsure of what to do, you looked up at him, able to see his bird tattoo out of the corner of your left eye. What the hell?

"Shawn, what are you doing?" you asked, confused, but not moving out of his grip.

"You're so beautiful. Like, sooooooo pretty, Y/N. Do you know that?" he said, a lazy smile still spread across his cheeks.

"Okay, Shawn, whatever you say," you chuckled, minimally shaking your head. He was plastered.

"Are you mad at me?" he asked, a look of sadness taking over his face. "Please don't be mad at me."

"I'm not mad, Shawn, I'm just confused," you responded, grabbing his hands and peeling them from your cheeks. You let them go, but they latched onto yours. A nervous feeling of excitement shot up your arms. "I don't know what you want."

You could hear your name being called from upstairs. Brian needed you for something. "Shawn, I gotta get back upstairs, okay? Are you alright down here?" you asked, genuinely worried about his physical stability.

He let go of your hands, nodding slightly. Giving you a half-smile, he turned on his heel and walked back over to where he was previously sitting.

All Brian wanted was a new pong partner. You agreed and played a few rounds, growing progressively more drunk as the party fizzled out. People began leaving as you started cleaning up until the house was cleared of bodies that didn't belong to your circle of friends. The guys crashed upstairs as you kept cleaning, only to be startled as a drunken Shawn made his way into the kitchen.

"You okay, tiger?" you asked him, giggling at his state.

"I am now," he quipped back, giving you a sweet smile.

Silence ensued between you both as he drank a glass of water and you piled cans into the recycling. It was a few minutes until Shawn spoke.

"You know I love you, right?"

You froze. You were not expecting this, and you hadn't even questioned him about it like you planned. You knew he was a weird dude, but you had no idea that this was why.

"Shawn, don't be silly," you responded, failing to look up at him.

He set his glass down on the counter silently, crossing his arms and turning toward you. "I'm not being silly. You needed to know, and now you know."

"So why are you such a dick sometimes, then?" You asked, turning in his direction.

"We can't be getting too close, Y/N. After what happened last night, I don't wanna risk it. We can't be together, you deserve someone a lot better than-" he gestured at himself, "-this."

"Shawn, stop that. You're a great guy. I just wish you were a little nicer to me," you tried to compose yourself, but inside you were screaming. You were so mad, but wanted him so badly, and your feelings for Shawn seemed to be winning. A crazy idea crossed your mind.

"Kiss me," was all you said, and he stepped towards you, his firm body against yours. He took your face into his hands and stared into your eyes, and you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. You hadn't seen his face this close up before, and it was a masterpiece.

"I can't, you're drunk," he whispered, smiling just inches from your face.

"You're drunk too," you whined, wishing he would just surrender to you.

His face fell. "And that's why we can't. Y/N, I've wanted this forever. But not like this. You're drunk. See how you feel in the morning, and if you still want me to kiss you, I will. I'll kiss you all day, all night, for as long as I can. I'll kiss you softly, deeply, any way you want. I'll always kiss you. I'll always want to kiss you. But I'm not so sure Sober Y/N feels the same way, okay?" he said, pressing his forehead to yours and closing his eyes.

You were shocked at his reasoning. You'd expected him to jump right into your pants, hands and lips and erection. But he didn't. His feelings were genuine and his heart was delicate. He needed this, but not this way.

His face lifted from yours and he opened his chocolate eyes. "Okay," was all you said, pushing up on your tiptoes to plant a little peck on his nose.

"Get some sleep, love. I'll see you in the morning," he said, squeezing your hand and retreating back downstairs.