KISS One-Shots

Peter and Paul

A/N: This one is set in the regular Kiss Casablanca high school series, like when they're in high school lol and was requested by SophiaYRG

Heaving a sigh, I wandered through the house, looking for someone I knew that I could talk to and wondering why the hell I had bothered to come to a party if I wasn't allowed to get wasted in any way, shape, or form. "Man, this sucks," I muttered, walking into the living room. There was no one that I really knew well enough to want to hang out with, just a lot of people who were high and drunk and making me wish even more that I could do that too.

Rolling my eyes, I kept walking. I wandered through a few more rooms before giving up on the inside of the house and heading outside. I took a deep breath, relishing the feel of the cold night air. "Mm. Damn, kind of missed being sober," I said to myself, running a hand through my hair. It was really nice outside, with a nice crescent moon and plenty of stars in the dark velvet sky.

There were a couple people outside but not many, so I just stuffed my hands in my pockets and walked around the yard. To my surprise, I stumbled across Paul, who was sitting on the edge of the pool, legs in the water and drinking a beer. Grinning, I sat next to him, nudging him in the ribs. "Hey, you know you still have your shoes on, right?" He kicked the water, soaking his shoes and socks and jeans even more. "Don' care," he mumbled.

I bit back a sigh, slipping an arm around his shoulders. "Are you really drunk and then sad again?" I asked. He leaned against me, taking a long sip of beer. "N-no I'm shober," he slurred. "You are very much not sober, my friend." "No! I am!" he protested, draining the can and crushing it, accidentally cutting his palm on the jagged aluminum. "Oww!" he cried, looking at his hand. "Oh, Paul. How many times do we have to tell you not to drink alone, hm? Now come on, I'll take you home," I said, pulling him to his feet.

His eyes widened and he shook his head. "Don't do that m' parentsh'll k-kill me," he whispered. "Ah, right. They were really pissed when you came home hungover, I can't imagine you coming home drunk will go over too well. Well, I'll take you back to my place then! Although you're not allowed to throw up on my bed again, alright?" I said, keeping my arm around his shoulders and steering him toward my car.

I sat him in the passenger seat, taking off his absolutely soaking shoes and socks and doing my best to wring them out. "Alright look I love you but I'm really not trying to have you ruin my car with your wet shoes and shit, okay?" I said, putting them on his lap and closing the door. Sliding into the driver's seat, I was about to start the car before he gave me a really sad look. "My hand hurtsh," he mumbled.

"Mm, I can see that. It's kind of bleeding and all. Look, just don't bleed on the leather and I'll get you cleaned up when we get home, okay?" I said, patting him on the shoulder and driving off. Paul was still all sad and quiet by the time I made it back to my apartment, but at least hadn't completely dissolved into tears. "Alright, let's go up to my place, okay? Get your socks and shoes and come on. It's just concrete, you don't need to put them on or anything," I said, taking his good hand and dragging him up the stairs.

It took awhile since he was stumbling a lot due to being drunk, but eventually we made it. "Okay here, let me see your hand and I'll get that cleaned up for you," I said, washing it off in the sink and rummaging through a drawer until I came up with some med tape and gauze. Paul winced as I bandaged up his palm but gave me a grateful smile. I looked at him before frowning. "Okay your shirt is dry but the bottom of your jeans are soaked, let me get you a pair of sweats."

After he got changed I set all of his wet clothes onto the balcony to dry, stepping back inside and taking his hand, leading him to my bedroom. "I'm gonna be nice and let you sleep on my bed because knowing you, you're going to be incredibly hungover tomorrow so the more you sleep, the better. Wake me up if you need anything, and please don't puke on my sheets again," I said, helping him climb into my bed. He gave me a smile, closing his eyes. "Thanksh Peter. Love you," he mumbled, yawning. "Yeah, I know. Love you too," I said, patting him on the head and walking out of my room.

Heart fluttering, I stretched out on the couch, scooping Hooligan up in my arms, scratching him behind the ears. "Hello you beautiful baby boy! You miss me tonight, hm?" Hooligan gave me a look, pawing at my shirt. "Aw, don't look at me like that! I know you don't like anyone but me, but Paul's great! Yeah, Paul's great," I said dreamily, before shaking my head. "But I'm not gonna get ahead of myself." Stretching, Hooligan curled up on my chest and I smiled, petting him lazily. "But hey, who knows," I said to myself, closing my eyes and dropping off to sleep.

I woke up the next morning to Hooligan meowing angrily in my face. "Alright, alright, I'm up!" I said, gently pushing him off of me. Yawning, I stumbled to my feet, filling his bowl with food. "Happy now?" I muttered, before moving off to my room. I carefully pushed the door open, looking at Paul and smiling. He was fast asleep, curled up under the blankets. I smiled, closing the door. "Alright Stanley, I'll let you sleep for a bit longer," I said, heading to the kitchen and starting to make breakfast.

I made us some omelettes, putting everything that worked well against hangovers in them that I had lying around before making a pot of coffee and walking back into my room, flipping on the lights. "Hey good morning! How're you feeling?" He pushed himself upright, looking at me in confusion. "Peter? Oh! Ohh, Peter! Damn hey thank you so much for taking me home!" he said, sliding out of bed and giving me a hug.

Grinning, I hugged him back. "Hey, you said yourself your parents would kill you, I couldn't live with that on my conscious. But seriously, how are you feeling?" He let me go, running a hand through his hair. "I've been worse, but also I feel like shit," he said. "Well, lucky for you I know how to make hangover breakfasts. Come on, you've got an omelette waiting."

We ate breakfast together, both of us chatting happily about nothing really in particular. Finally, I took his plate and loaded it in the dishwasher. "You feeling better now at least?" I asked. There was no answer, and I looked at Paul in confusion. He was staring at me, face going red. "Paul. Hey, you're spacing out on me." He jumped, snapping out of it, before taking a deep breath. "Yeah, yeah I'm doing a lot better. Sorry, it's just...well this might sound really dumb but..."

Paul trailed off and I leaned against the table next to him, giving him a smile. "Just spill it, man!" I teased. "I love you," he blurted out. Blinking, I looked at him in surprise. "What?" "I-I love you," he said again. "It's kinda stupid I know and I really don't know if you even feel like that about me, you probably don't, but you've just always been so nice to me, and even last night and I just--"

I cut him off with a kiss, wrapping my arms around him. He rose to his feet, pulling me against him, twisting his hand through my hair. At last, we pulled apart, staring at each other with huge smiles. "Well, lucky for you I love you too. Damn, I really love you too," I said. Eyes shining, he gave me another kiss. "That really is lucky for me," he purred. I got lost in his eyes for a moment before letting out a happy sigh, giving him a tight hug. "Aw man. Damn, this is perfect."

Giggling, he gave me a soft kiss on the forehead. "It really is. Thanks for taking care of me last night." "I'm just glad I found you at the party." "Not as glad as I am," he said with a smile, before kissing me again.

A/N: If you have any suggestions for one-shots you want to see let me know!!