lh43 and op81 defender @pookiescurls - Tumblr Blog

pookiescurls

Aug 12

raven-dor

can't ignore the fact, baby

gif by the extremely talented @gifcoven

in which you realize that you and beau maxwell have never been just friends

PAIRINGS: beau maxwell x fem!reader, dean heyward-di laurentis x bestfriend!reader (platonic)

WARNINGS: avoidance of feelings, oblivious reader, golden retriever beau (little bit of i-can-pay-for-it mentality), smug dean (isn't he always), dramatic confession, dean being a beauxreader truther!!

WORD COUNT: 5.2k

🎶 : 3:15 - bazzi

AN: 🩵💗♥️ - oh beau. this is based off of a 'what i would wear in off campus' thing i did on tiktok. this is my baby, i love it so dearly. please enjoy!!

At the age of eight, Beau Maxwell was the bane of your existence. He was loud, obnoxious, and distracting to a fault. He walked into a room and people actually cheered. It also didn’t help that his smile could actually brighten anyone’s day.

At the age of twenty one, Beau Maxwell was your best friend slash secret conscience-eating crush.

You quickly grew fond of all the things you’d originally found him annoying for. You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment you had become best friends, all you knew was that his friendship was something you couldn't lose.

Even if you had a horrible, almost disgusting, crush on him. You had to push it way down, down so far that even you sometimes forgot about it.

You’d been in the middle of staring blankly at your computer screen, thinking about all of this, when a medium vanilla latte with oat milk and cold foam popped up in front of your face.

The person holding it? Beau Maxwell.

You looked up slowly, scowling at your best friend’s smirk. “Are you happy about my miserable state?”

“A little.” He teased, setting the latte beside your computer. “Here.”

“How did you-”

“You posted about it. On your private story.” He shrugged like he hadn’t just done the most romantic thing on Planet Earth. “Figured you needed a pick-me-up.”

You knew what story he was referencing. It had said something along the lines of a typical college student wallowing in self misery instead of working on their big project that would determine if they got to graduate or not. You took a large sip of your coffee. “It wasn’t exactly clear about where I was.”

“I had time on my hands.”

Not only had he bought you a coffee, he had also searched the entire library for you.

“Stalker,” was all you could come up with.

“I’ve been called worse.” He smiled. “Why don’t we get out of here? You don’t seem to be getting much done-” You glared. “And it doesn’t help anyone if you sit here and wither away.”

“What a caring gentleman you are, worrying about my wellbeing.” You shoved your things in your bag, walking side by side with him towards the library doors. “Where are we going?”

“Wherever you want.”

You cursed your good nature.

Offering to grab drinks for your friends, you forgot just how slow the line moved at Briar Block parties, and just how lonely it got when you stood there for what seemed like hours by yourself. You’d finally gotten to the front, face to face with your savior, the one person who could quench your thirst.

You actually grinned when they called you up, relaxing your arms against the metal bar on the outside. “Three Dr.Peppers, one Coke, and one Diet Coke. All medium, please.”

“Would you like a drink tray?”

“That would be wonderful, thanks so much.”

“Of course.” The girl flashed a smile. “Will that be cash or card?”

“Card.”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks as you turned to face your best friend. “Hello to you as well, Beaumont.”

“My government name.” He shuddered. “Consider me spooked.”

“Are you still paying with card?” The girl had lost her slight smile, opting for a more annoyed and honestly disinterested look. You couldn’t blame her.

“Yes.” Beau tapped his card before you could even reach for your purse.

You frowned. “Beau. None of these are for you.”

“I’m aware.” He smiled. “Can’t a man pay for his best friend’s drinks?”

“As long as I’m the only one you’re buying drinks for.” You joked. Or maybe you weren’t. You hoped he took that comment as just that: a comment, and not a soft launch of your feelings.

He laughed, nudging you lightly. “You know you’re the only woman in my life.”

You let your brow quirk ever so slightly. “So now you’re blatantly lying?”

“Excuse me.” Beau looked highly offended. “I would never lie to you.”

“Yeah?” You took a step forward, almost challenging him to lie again. “I don’t believe you.”

His hand clutched his heart. “You wound me. Really, you do.”

Your order was placed on the counter, and the worker cleared her throat. “Is everything correct?”

You ripped your eyes away from Beau’s, nodding quickly. “Yup. Thank you so much.”

Beau grabbed the drink tray, walking diligently beside you. “You really are the only woman in my life.”

You scoffed. “Don’t patronize me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means to treat others in a way that shows you see yourself as better. You say things in a condescending manner-”

He smirked. “Now who’s patronizing?”

“I have eyes, Beau.” You wave at the girls, Dexter, and Sean. “I see how everyone looks at you.”

“Just because they look at me doesn’t mean I’m looking back.” He frowned. “No one takes precedence over you. No one.”

“Your future girlfriend isn’t going to like that mentality.”

He raised a brow. “What was that?”

You coughed. “Nothing, Maxwell. Thanks for carrying our drinks.”

“Anytime.” He flashed his ever charming smile at Allie and Hannah. “Ladies.”

Allie and Hannah grabbed their sodas. “What a gentleman.”

You just smiled, not trusting yourself to say anything remotely normal back to them.

“It’s nothing. Enjoy.” Beau's eyes drifted to you, his eyebrows furrowing. “Do you have a jacket?”

“I-” You laughed lightly, his attention causing your nervous system to crash out. What was happening to you? “No?”

“Do you have a death wish?” Your eyes lit up with mischief, and he shook his head, shrugging off his jacket. “Forget I asked. Here, take mine.” Before you could even protest, he’d placed it around your shoulders and walked away.

“You’re so performative!” You yelled at his back, heat rising to your cheeks when he spared you one last look.

“You know you love me!”

“Oh my god.” Dexter whispered. “What sort of mating ritual is this?”

“Dexter!” You squeaked. “Oh my god!”

“You know I’m right.”

Allie nodded in agreement. “They’ve been like this for as long as I’ve known them. It was cute.”

“Was?” Your eyebrow rose.

“Now it’s just frustrating.”

“Oh?” Hannah laughed. “How so?”

“Because you can’t believe they’re not together yet.”

You groaned. “Someone please change the topic.”

“All I’m saying-” Allie hooks her arm through yours, leading you toward the stage. “Is that he likes you. Like a lot.”

“We’re just friends, Allie.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself.” She whispered. “He’s staring, by the way.”

Heat rose to your cheeks as you forced yourself not to meet his gaze.

One day, you were listening to your friends compare the hockey boys to cretons, and the next, you were watching Hannah stare at Garrett Graham with this scary look of admiration. This had been going on for weeks, since the beginning of the school year.

Allie would say it was horrifying. You would opt for something kinder. They were weirdly endearing to watch.

Hannah wiggled her brows, gesturing to your coat. “Still haven’t returned it, I see.”

“Hannah.” Sometimes they weren’t endearing. Sometimes, they teamed up on you in order to get information.

“Returned?” Garrett smirked. “Whose is it?”

“It’s-”

“No one’s.” You cut in, hoping that would deter your best friend from outing you. “Don’t listen to her-”

“It’s Beau’s!” Hannah blurted out, cackling in satisfaction.

Garrett’s face lit up, and you groaned. “Don’t make it a thing, Graham.”

“I think I might have to.”

“You don’t have to do anything-”

“Nah, sometimes you do.” He laughed, pointing at the picnic tables you were approaching. “You’re wearing his coat, and you’re blushing about it. It’s totally a thing.”

You pulled the denim jacket closer to you, smiling as Beau spoke in a British accent. “I’m ignoring you.”

“I’m not shocked.” Garrett teased. “Your thing is making his big birthday announcement. If you were paying attention to me, that means you wouldn’t be paying attention to him. The world might explode if that were to happen-”

You shoved his arm, scoffing when Hannah just laughed. “Watch your back, Wells. You’re a traitor, and your pesky boytoy isn’t helping matters.”

“Boytoy?” Garrett cackled.

Beau’s eyes lit up when he saw you watching below. He waved quickly, and you waved back, laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.

Your entire life their birthday announcements had been extravagant, and you could honestly say that this was one of their tamer ones.

For their sixteenth, Beau and Dean did a series of water-based stunts (jetski flips, tubing, skiing, etc) and you had been recruited to record and edit the clips. It was then sent out to the entire school.

“Having fun?” You shouted.

Beau grinned. “Always.” You laughed, and Beau’s heart couldn’t help but skip when he realized that you were still wearing his jacket.

Curse the disgustingly talented woman that was Joanna Maxwell.

She was supposed to be your dynamic duo partner (Anakin and Padme, in case you were wondering.)

Then she got a last minute contract and had to ditch the party.

You texted her from the corner, pretending to be angry by sending the infamous scene of Anakin screaming ‘I hate you’. She emphasized your message with a ‘haha’.

You tucked your phone back into your fanny pack before walking over to the guys. “Anyone fancy a game of pong?”

“You're talking my language.” Tucker grinned. “Wanna team up?”

“Of course.” You nodded. “You really think I’d want to team up with Goose or-” You tilted your head. “Birdman?”

Logan scoffed. “Tucker and I are the birds and the bees, thank you very much.”

“My bad.” You laughed. “You two are made for each other, you know. You’re both bird-things.”

“Well put.” Beau teased. “How many of those have you had?”

“Enough so that I can still kick your ass and remember it.”

“Oh yeah?”

You nodded, jutting your hip sassily. “Yeah.”

“Let’s go, Logan. Her ego needs to be checked.”

“Oh, my ego?” Your eyes widened in faux offense. “Bring it on, Mr. Birthday Boy.”

Tucker leaned over, whispering in Logan’s ear as they followed after you. “This is some weird type of foreplay, right?”

Logan nodded. “You never know with those two.”

Of course you won.

It was insane how well you played when you were a little tipsy. There had to be some sort of science behind it, the loss of overthinking thanks to the alcohol coursing your system allowed you to trust your instincts or whatever.

It also helped that Tucker was actually good at pong.

When he sunk the ball into the winning cup, you screamed, jumping as you hugged him tightly. Beau just laughed, shaking his head in faux disappointment. Logan leaned over, speaking at a volume he knew only Beau could hear. “You look like you want to eat her, dude.”

Beau scoffed. “Insane choice of words, J.”

“Just stating the obvious.” Logan held his hands up defensively. “Are you ever going to tell her?”

“Someday.” He nodded. “Just not tonight.” Beau left his partner’s side, walking over to you with his hand outstretched. “Good game, Padme.”

“I’d say the same to you-” You giggled, shaking his hand. “But it really wasn’t your night.”

“Oh.” Beau’s eyes widened, taking advantage of your interlocked hands to pull you closer. “That’s pretty unsportsmanlike.”

“Thank god I don’t play sports.”

“I seem to recall you playing soccer in middle school.”

Your jaw went slack. “Are you actually gonna go there-”

“The Thunder Roses, right?”

Tucker and Logan laughed. You tore your hand out of his grasp, trying to silence him. He smirked, dodging your pathetic attempts. “Your jerseys were neon pink and orange.”

“Shut up!” You squeaked.

“Make me.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Allie appeared, saving you from potential disaster. “Come do shots with me.”

“Okay.” Your eyes were still wide, staring at Beau with utter shock and surprise.

“That was-” Allie looked suspiciously at the football player. “Surprisingly easy. What did you do to her?”

“Nothing.” He murmured, his eyes stuck on you.

“Sure.” Allie nodded slowly. “Alright, well, say goodbye.” Hooking her arm through yours, she led you to the bar. “What did he say?”

“I-” You sighed. “I told him to shut up.”

“Okay?” Her eyebrows furrowed.

“And he said make me.”

“Oh my god.” Allie giggled. “Is it wrong to say my stomach just flipped a little bit?”

“Allie!” You gasped. “Control yourself.”

You may have overindulged.

Keywords: may have.

As of right now, you felt fine. Seconds away from vomiting, but otherwise fine. After Allie had pulled you away from Beau’s side, you’d taken shots. Then five minutes later, another round. Then another. Then you played YMCA flip cup.

So yeah, five seconds away from puking.

“Allie!” No response. Your best friend was jumping around, dancing erratically to the music as Sean tried to match her energy, but was failing horribly. “Allie!”

“Yeah?” She spun around, a large grin on her lips. She looked perfectly in her element. “What’s up?”

“I’m gonna go get some water.”

“Water?”

You nodded. “I just wanted to let you know so you don’t panic.”

“Thanks babe!” She hugged you quickly. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“I don’t want to interrupt your fun.” You laughed.

“You are my fun.” She frowned. “Don’t think I don’t want to hang out with you.”

One thing about Allie: when she was drunk, she was super kind and super wise. It was like normal Allie turned up to thirty. Your eyes watered as a result of her comment, hugging her once more to hide your emotions. “You’re the best, Al. I’ll be back!”

You let go, waving over your shoulder as you tried to find your way to the kitchen. Every lift of your foot was met with resistance thanks to the copious amounts of alcohol that coated the floor.

The mixture of dancing and open containers were disastrous, something that you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy. You hoped that Beau had hired the best cleaning crew in the Upper East Coast, because his mother did not play when it came to her pristine wood floors.

The kitchen was in view when it happened.

Someone elbowed you, and thanks to your drunken state, your reaction time was non-existent. You immediately fell to the ground. The party-goers around you gasped, and tears started to stream down your cheeks.

To make it even worse, no one moved to help you. They just stood there and stared.

You sat there for a moment, collecting yourself. Wiping your hands off on your white pants (which were now ruined thanks to the previously mentioned floor), you prepared to pick yourself up when Beau’s voice rang over the music.

“Where is she?” You felt like you were floating on air when the crowd parted, and Beau stepped through. He knelt down, whispering your name so softly that your heart clenched. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, Beau.”

“You don’t look fine. Have you-” He frowned, reaching up to wipe away your tears. “Were you crying?”

“Maybe a little.” You can’t help but lean into his touch, laughing softly. “I’m being dramatic, it’s really okay.”

“Let’s check you over, just in case.” In one fell swoop, he picked you up off the ground, wrapped an arm around your waist and guided you towards his room.

“You really don’t need to do this.” You gesture to his hold on you. “I can walk.”

“Just let me take care of you.” He smiled. “You fell so quickly it looked like a cartoon.”

“Hey!” You gasped. “Aren’t you supposed to try and make me feel better?”

“My bad.” He grinned, opening his bedroom door. “You looked so dainty, like a princess.”

“Well now you’re overdoing it.” You grumbled, pulling out of his hold to sit on his bed. “I feel so stupid.”

“Don’t say that.” He yelled from the other room. “You’re not stupid. You’re drunk, and you fell. It happens to the best of us.”

“I wouldn’t have fallen if someone didn’t shove me.” You grumbled.

“Wait a second.” Beau pops out of the bathroom, his hands full of supplies. Makeup wipes, a wet wash cloth, the works. He even brought moisturizer out. “Someone shoved you?”

“Yup.” You laid back, staring at the ceiling. He still had his One Direction poster up, the one that you gifted him when you were in middle school. “It was definitely an accident, but it still sucked.”

“How do you know it was an accident?” Beau frowned, pulling out a makeup wipe and unfolding it. “What did they look like? I’ll go back down there and-”

“Relax, Maxwell. I’m fine.” You smiled when the makeup wipe touched your skin, letting your eyes fall shut. “You know, I can take my own makeup off.”

“But why do that when I’m here and offering?”

“Fair point.”

“What kind of makeup did you use? It looks nice.”

You felt your stomach flutter. He had no idea how his compliments affected you. “I- I used some mascara, concealer, bronzer, blush, lip stain, lip gloss, and eyebrow gel.”

“Hmm. Do you remember the brands?”

“I normally get my makeup from IPSY. But the lip gloss is Elf, the lip stain is Covergirl, and the eyebrow gel is Maybelline.” You hadn’t realized that you’d been holding your breath. (It was most definitely because of how close he was to your face). “Beau?”

You heard him scoff as he wiped away your eyebrow gel. “Yea, sweetheart?”

“Do you ever think about that night?”

The makeup wipe stills, and your eyes shoot open. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I-”

“All the time.” His cheeks were pink. “I think about it all the time.”

“Oh.” You gulped, realizing just how close you two were.

“It’s alright.” His jaw was tense as he stood, throwing away your used makeup wipe.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” He practically spat it out as he searched through his dresser for a hoodie. “I don’t regret it, and we did nothing wrong. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“Okay.” You felt so stupid, so small as you watched him walk up to you with that same kind look. “Goodnight, Goose.”

He smiled softly, handing you the hoodie before he left the room. “Goodnight, Padme.”

Your head felt like it was about to explode.

It didn’t help that the sun had found a convenient spot to blast your face with its rays. You groaned, rolling over and shoving your face into the pillow. What time was it?

You didn’t hear any music or shouting, so you knew that everyone had gone.

You forced yourself to open your eyes, your stomach churning. “Oh my god.”

Your hand slapped around the bed, a feeling of impending doom blossoming when you couldn’t find it. Whipping the covers off, erratically searching his entire room. Beau. Memories of last night flashed before your eyes, the feel of impending doom growing worse.

Bzzz.

You huffed, turning around to find your phone plugged in on the bedside table. Three texts.

One from Beau, from only an hour or so after you fell asleep. I brought your overnight bag in, it’s in the bathroom.

One from Dean. Your friend Allie is hot.

And one from your friend, Allie. Are you alive?

Barely, you responded as you walked into the bathroom, staring at the overnight bag like it had personally offended you. Damn Beau and his relentless loyalty and kindness.

Two voices, distinct and comforting, echoed through the otherwise empty house. Beau and Dean, bickering about who knows what. You descended the stairs, rounding the corner with your head down.

“Sleeping Beauty.” Dean giggled. “Thanks for joining us.”

“Shut up, gremlin.” You slip into an island seat, letting your head drop onto the cool marble countertop. “How long have you been up?”

“About ten minutes.” Beau spoke. “How did you sleep?”

You felt like you were going to vomit from nerves. You kept your head down, mumbling. “Wonderfully, thank you.”

“Of course.”

Dean nudged you. “Did you see my text?”

“I did.” You dared to sit up, clutching your stomach. “I know she’s hot. Thank you for stating the obvious.”

“Are you gonna do me a solid and-”

“No.” You shook your head, reaching for a mug. “She has a boyfriend.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, shit.” You tease. “Guess you can’t sleep your way through the entire Briar population.”

“Speaking of sleeping-” Dean wiggled his eyebrows. “What were you two up to last night?”

You coughed, choking on the sip you’d just taken.

Beau hissed. “Dude.”

“What?” Dean looked much too happy. “Can’t a guy ask his two friends if they hooked up?”

“You have no shame.” You pressed a hand to your chest.

“Neither of you have answered my question.”

“We didn’t hook up last night.” Beau turned back towards the pancakes he’d neglected. “Enough with the interrogation.”

“Jesus.” Dean leaned over, whispering in your ear. “He’s pissy.”

“I can hear you, Dean.”

You should have gotten in the car with Dean.

You shouldn’t have brought up last night’s events.

You should have drank less.

These are all things you thought about after you destroyed the best friendship you’d ever had.

Things that you should have taken into account before you did them.

The car ride back from Beau’s summer house had been fine, almost tranquil in a way. He’d had the music at the perfect volume, you grabbed Dunkin on the way back, there was hardly any traffic.

Then you decided to break that peace minutes before you got back to your apartment.

“I wanted to say thank you for not telling Dean about last night. Or, you know-” You gulped. “The other thing.”

His reaction caught you totally off guard. “Do you really regret it that much?”

“No, of course not.” You felt heat rise to your cheeks. “I just didn’t want to trap you in some awkward situation with us being best friends and all.”

“That’s all we are to you?” His grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Just best friends?”

“Beau.” You frowned. “I didn’t mean to imply-”

“You can’t even say it.” He scoffed. “You can’t even admit that we had sex.”

“We agreed not to talk about it.”

“Do you have any idea why I crawled through your window that night?”

You gulped. “I-” That night made shivers erupt all over and your heart race. “To hang out?”

“You have to know.” He sounded so hurt it almost made you cry. “Do you seriously not know?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I can’t spell it out for you.”

You turned in your seat, fully facing him. “I’m not a mind reader, Beau.”

He put the car in park, staring at you with desperation in his eyes. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Well neither do I.” You huffed.

“Fine.” He looked back towards the road. “Then I guess we have nothing more to talk about.”

“Fine.” You unbuckled, your eyes threatening to spill over as you grabbed your things. “Thanks for the ride.” Everything in you screamed to look back, to stop and tell him everything. What you were thinking, what you felt, what you had always felt for him, but had been too scared to say.

But you didn’t turn back.

Beau didn’t have the same resolve as you, he never had.

So he watched as you slammed the door in his face and stormed into your apartment building with your head held high. He watched as his heart walked away, and he did nothing to stop you.

Coward.

You were good at wallowing.

If you put your mind to it, you could make it a profession.

On the first day, you’d skipped all your important classes and laid in bed.

On the second, you’d gone to class, but in possibly the ugliest outfit you owned. Bright green sweatpants from highschool, a teal hoodie from your best friend’s a cappella group, and the greasiest hair you’d ever had in your life.

When you walked into the class you shared with Garrett and Hannah, Garrett had physically winced at the state of you, and Hannah gave you the most pitiful look she could muster.

On day three, Allie staged an intervention.

“I haven’t seen you eat an actual meal since you got back from the birthday party.” You opened your mouth to speak, and she held up a finger. “And no, celery sticks and cream cheese doesn’t count.”

“There were chocolate chips.” You muttered.

“Not helping, babe.” Hannah whispered from behind her best friend. “We want to make sure you take care of yourself.”

“I don’t feel like it.” A lump grew in your throat at the mere thought of why you felt like this. “Can you just let me go back into my room and-”

“No.” Allie looked like a stern mother. It almost scared you. “You don’t have to leave the apartment, but you need to eat.” She sat beside you, grabbing your phone and opening DoorDash. “Now, what do you want?”

On the fourth day, you’d started to feel like a human being again. You’d gotten up at a normal time, made yourself a coffee, and put on a relatively cute outfit.

The fresh air blew through your hair, and the leaves were the perfect shade of orange.

You’d almost taken your phone out and posted the cutest instagram story of all time.

Then you’d spotted Beau.

Your heart stopped as your mind raced for a solution that didn’t lead to you having to talk to him. You’d taken too long, because Beau had spotted you back.

Your eyes went wide, and you stumbled backwards, walking as fast as you could to your next class. The long way, of course.

He hadn’t followed after you.

This wallowing period lasted for six days before you were forced to confront something you told yourself you would never give life to again. All thanks to Dean Di Laurentis.

Him and Allie would be perfect for each other. The pair of them were meddlers of the highest degree.

You were doing your homework in the living room when he walked in.

“Excuse me.” You glared. “What happened to hello?”

Allie scoffed. “Or knocking, for that matter?”

“This is important.” Dean sat on the arm of the couch. “No time for knocking.”

“That entire explanation took the exact same amount of time that knocking would have taken.”

“Not helping, Wellsy.” The boy muttered. “I came here to talk to you.”

“Okay.” You closed your laptop, leaning back into the couch cushion. “I’m all ears.”

“Something is up with Beau.”

“And you expect me to know what-”

“I know it was because of you.” He looked serious, like he genuinely was in pain seeing his best friend miserable. “And you don’t need to tell me what happened, but you do need to fix it. Both of you.”

Your eyes watered. “I’m scared, Dean.”

“I know.” He smiled. “But think about it this way- if you confess first, you can hold it over his head for the rest of your lives.”

“Oh my god!” You gasped. “Way to ruin the mood.”

“Wait a second-” Allie leaned forward. “You said the rest of their lives.”

“They’re meant for each other, Al.” Hannah sighed wistfully. You didn’t think your cheeks could grow any hotter than they already were. “The way they look at each other, the way he looks at her when she isn’t looking-”

“Where is he?”

“His apartment?” Dean raised a brow. “Why?”

“I-” You shot up, grinning widely. “I have to go!”

“I didn’t mean right now!” Dean yelled. “That might not be the best-”

“Dean.” Allie groaned. “It’s late, please stop yelling.”

You raced down your building’s stairs, jumped in your car, and sped towards his apartment. You most definitely broke about thirty traffic laws, but you didn’t care. You parked your car haphazardly and jumped into the elevator.

Which held a girl you had a bio class with during your freshman year. “Hey, Cathy.”

“Hey.” She flashed a smile. “What’s up?”

“I-” What were you supposed to say, you were here to confess your love to your childhood best friend? “Am visiting a friend.”

“Ah.” The elevator dinged, and she stepped off. “Nice to see you.”

“You too.” You tapped your foot, nervously waiting for the elevator to go up one floor, one singular floor. Why did it feel like the elevator was moving in slow motion right before your stop? Why did- It stopped, and your heart skipped, jumping out to get to his apartment. You flung open his front door, breath heaving.

About twelve pairs of curious eyes landed on you. The door shut quietly behind you, and you huffed. “Do you know where-”

“Hey.” God, he looked handsome. Beau stood across the room, holding an overflowing bowl of chips. “What’s up?”

“I didn’t know that-” You gulped. “That people would be here.”

“Sorry?” He tilted his head as he handed off the bowl to one of his brothers. You scanned the crowd, smiling when you found Tucker.

“Hey, Tuck.”

“Hey.” Tucker smiled back.

“Are you alright?” Beau questioned. “Did something happen?”

“I’m fine.” He visibly relaxed at the statement. “I just- I have to finish our conversation.”

“I really don’t think that here is the best-”

“I love you.” You blurted it out like it was nothing. “That actually came out wrong. I wanted it to be more-” You wiped your temple, sweat building up from the adrenaline. “It’s just that I- wanted it to be a little more grand but I-” You laughed. “I really love you. I have for a while now.” Beau was wide-eyed, his face unreadable. “And I’m so sorry for everything. For ignoring it mainly. For ignoring us.” He stepped towards you so quickly, you hadn’t even registered it. You just kept rambling. “I can’t lose you, and I can’t stay just friends. So I understand if you-”

Beau’s hands clenched tightly around your hips, pulling you flush against him. “Stop talking for a second.”

“Okay.” Your hands subconsciously slid into his hair at the nape of his neck as his lips dove down to meet yours. The room collectively gasped, teasing and shouting out words of encouragement. Shiver ran down your spine as his touch made its way up your back.

Beau pulled away just barely, and you found yourself whining for more as he flipped his friends off. “Screw off.”

“Well, technically, she invaded our brother’s night.” A voice, you didn’t know whose, interrupted. “So you screw off.”

“I’m sure they will.” Another quipped.

Beau’s eyes never left yours once though. “I love you too, you know.” He grinned, nudging your nose with his. “This was really dramatic of you.”

You shrugged. “Had to get your attention somehow.”

“You definitely did. Will you excuse me for one second?”

You nodded. ”Sure.”

He pecked your lips quickly, turning to the guys who were watching the two of you like their own personal soap opera. “Thanks for coming, everyone. But I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.” He cleared his throat when no one moved. “Now.”

“Whatever you say, boss.” Tucker jumped up, making a beeline for the door. “Congrats, by the way.”

“Thanks, Tuck.” You waved. “Goodnight.”

“Did I miss it?” You groaned, dropping your head into Beau’s chest. “Did I miss it?”

“Yes, Dean.” Beau laughed, rubbing comforting circles into your back. “You missed it.”

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#for later

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