KISS Imagines

Peter Criss #5

You could literally feel his heartbeat.

Peter stood behind you, his chest pressed against your back. He took your hands and lowered them to the drums. "First you do this . . ."

Due to not listening to him, you barely heard the rest of his sentence. All you could focus on was the closeness between the two of you.

Earlier that day you asked him if he could teach you how to play the drums. You thought it would be nice to learn how to play. After all you always liked listening to the drumming in a song and watch the drummers perform whenever you went to a band concert. Even when KISS was rehearsing, you would sometimes show up and watch Peter focus on the drums. His drumming was spectacular!

"Y/N?"

You blinked, bringing yourself back to reality. "Yeah?"

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Oh, um . . ." Your cheeks grew hot. "No."

Peter sighed. "Okay, let me repeat it again."

This time you listened to his instructions, acknowledging everything he was saying. But the fact that he was so close to you kept coming back. It was about the closest you've ever been . . . well except hugging. That was different. But still.

"Thanks, Peter," you said when he finished talking. You looked at him with a smile. "I appreciate it."

"Of course." He returned the smile. "Now let's hear you play."

You chuckled. "No thanks."

"Come on. It won't be that bad. I just taught you."

"Yeah, the basics."

"Just play, Y/N. Practice what I said."

You took a breath. "Okay."

From there you proceeded to play the drums. It wasn't that bad, actually, but you still thought it was. On the other hand, Peter was smiling when you stopped.

"That was good, Y/N. For a beginner."

"No. It wasn't."

"Yes it was."

You set the drumsticks down on one of the drums. "I'll never be as good as you, though."

"But you might."

"Uh-uh." You stared at one of the cymbals.

Sighing, Peter leaned down and wrapped his arms around you from behind. This action surprised you, even making your heart rate increase. The drummer you've liked for so long was hugging you.

But you had to leave.

He didn't like you in that way.

You stood up quickly, catching Peter off guard and making him release you. "Where's Paul? I need to talk to him."

"Oh, I don't know. I don't think he nor any of the others arrived yet. I think it's still you and me here."

That was a disappointment. You wanted to talk to him. "Okay, well, I guess I'll go, then."

Peter raised his eyebrows. "Already? I thought you were going to stay here for awhile."

"Yeah, well, time is up. I don't think I should be here any longer." You shrugged.

To tell the truth, you just wanted to leave to avoid Peter. Without letting him know that, of course. He was oblivious that you were in love with him. So if you stayed there any longer, you were afraid that you might say something you'll regret.

"Thanks for the lesson, Peter," you said softly.

He smiled. "You're welcome, Y/N."

You turned around, about to exit the room. But somehow you couldn't do it, at least not yet.

The thing is, you wanted to tell him. You wanted to tell him even if it means ruining your friendship. Because if you didn't, how were you supposed to live with it? How were you supposed to live with keeping your feelings for him a secret? But then you figured having a friendship was better than not having one at all. You knew that if you told him, things could go two ways: Peter admits his feelings, too (which wasn't possible), or your friendship is ruined (which was possible).

Or Peter could say, "I don't like you in that way. Can we remain as friends?"

Three different ways. But which one is it going to be?

You faced him. "Peter?"

He looked up, drumsticks in hand. "Yes, Y/N?"

"I-I want to tell you something," you stammered, growing nervous.

"Okay. What is it?"

"Um . . ." You tried to think of a good way to say it, but your mind was a complete blank. Sure, you could've just said the simple way but you were so nervous that it didn't come to you.

So you acted on impulse.

You crossed the room and pulled Peter in for a kiss.

He didn't break it.

Instead he continued the kiss, bringing your body closer to his as he did so. You loved every second of it. The kiss was soft and gentle. Loving.

When it ended, Peter pressed his forehead against yours. "What was that?"

"A kiss?" you asked.

He chuckled. "Will you go on a date with me, Y/N?"

You were relieved. Even though he didn't say it directly, you knew his question said it all.

Peter liked you, too.

"Yes," you answered.

He smiled. "Good."