David Dobrik Imagines

It's Not a Competition 🍃

A/N: this was written by 🍃 anon on my blog, you can find more of her work on my blog and on her own which is @ vsfics on tumblr.

Enjoy!

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You felt the fizz of champagne bubbles wash over your tongue as you downed the glass in your hand. It probably wasn't classy to drink down flutes of champagne like they were water, but it was your friend's birthday dinner and you were there to celebrate. Plus, the meal and all the alcohol was already paid for. You might as well make the most out of it.

You finished five glasses of champagne by the time the party was over and you felt like you were floating out of the restaurant. Your head swam. Your ankles faltered. Your heels clicked against the pavement. Your friends ordered you a Lyft, tucked you inside, kissed your forehead, and closed the door on you.

"Where to?" the driver asked inside the quiet car. You contemplated the place you wanted to spend the night. Perhaps it was your alcohol-laced brain sending you poor impulses, but you gave him David's address.

It wasn't until you were pulling to a halt outside the house that you realized your mistake. David was too high-strung to enjoy surprise visits —even if you were only there for a hookup. Sex was just another part of David's rigid schedule. If he wanted you, then he'd pencil you in. You usually didn't to bother him otherwise, but the champagne was getting to you. You figured you'd push your luck.

You thanked the Lyft driver, cracked open the door, and stepped out onto the quiet street. Your heels clacked as you strode toward David's front door, feeling defiant. It was a little after midnight, definitely not too late for a hookup.

The lights in the living room were radiating through the glass door. Good, that meant someone was still awake. You knocked against it and waited patiently for the patter of feet, but none came. Instead you heard a muffled voice call out.

"Natalie, someone's at the door!"

You waited for footsteps again. Nothing.

"Natalie!" David was a little louder this time, dragging her name out. You could hear the frustration in his tone through the layer of glass. Finally, you heard him heave himself up with a grunt and totter to the foyer. He gave you a puzzled look through the transparent door as he wrenched it open.

"Y/n?" That was his greeting.

"Hey Dave," you smiled halfheartedly.

"What do you want?"

You paused for a moment, suddenly embarrassed to be there and not sure how to explain yourself.

"I don't know," you responded feebly. "I was already out. I just thought I'd stop by." Your voice trailed off into the soft night air.

"Well, okay.... Come in I guess." He sounded reluctant, but eager to return to the task he'd left behind. "I'm editing on the couch right now. Joe just left. Natalie's asleep, I think. She went to her room like an hour ago."

You followed behind him, slipping off your heels along the way, as he shut the door and meandered back to the couch.

"Cool," you muttered. You still weren't sure what to say. He wasn't doing you any favors. It was clear he didn't want you there. Editing time was precious to David, and you were disturbing it.

He settled back into the spot he'd abandoned, returning his laptop to his lap. You took a seat across from him on the couch. Your lips were shut tight as you racked your brain for what to say next.