Drunk Confessions
Summary: You don't want to be just Aj's best friend, you want to be something more.
Song: House Of Balloons / Glass Table Girls · The Weeknd
Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶
Word count: 2.8k
The echoing clang of the university gates closing behind you felt like a jailbreak. You sucked in a lungful of the crisp autumn air, the scent of dying leaves and freedom a heady mix. Beside you, AJ mirrored your expression, a wide grin splitting his face.
"Well," he said, shoving his hands deep into his pockets, "that was… underwhelming."
Underwhelming was an understatement. You'd both envisioned university as a grand adventure, a portal to a world of knowledge, independence, and self-discovery.
Instead, you found yourselves drowning in a sea of dry lectures, forced social interactions, and the unsettling realization that conforming to a rigid structure wasn't for either of you.
"Underwhelming? I'd call it soul-crushing," you replied, kicking a stray pebble down the pavement. "I swear, Professor Davies looked like he hadn't cracked a smile since the Cretaceous period."
AJ chuckled, a warm, infectious sound that always managed to lift your spirits. "He probably hasn't. Geology. Dinosaurs. Makes sense."
You'd met that morning, a chaotic collision of limbs and dropped textbooks in the crowded registration hall. His disarming smile and quick apology had instantly put you at ease.
You'd both confessed your growing dread as the orientation speeches droned on, and by lunchtime, you were hatching an escape plan.
"So," AJ said, breaking the silence, "Now what?"
You shrugged, a feeling of exhilaration bubbling inside you. "Anything's better than another lecture on the socio-economic impact of 18th-century pottery."
"Agreed. Pizza?"
Pizza turned into an impromptu brainstorming session at a local park. You sprawled on the grass, the discarded university pamphlets forming a makeshift picnic blanket. AJ, animated and full of energy, tossed ideas around like confetti. Musician? Writer? Chef? None of them felt quite right.
"What about you?" he asked, turning his bright eyes to you. "What do you actually want to do?"
You hesitated. Admitting your secret aspirations felt vulnerable, especially to someone you'd only known for a few hours. But there was something about AJ, an openness, a genuine interest, that made you feel safe.
"I… I've always wanted to model," you confessed, tracing patterns in the grass. "But it feels so… frivolous, doesn't it? Especially after spending all morning listening about climate change."
AJ sat up straight, his eyes widening. "Frivolous? Are you kidding me? You're stunning! Seriously. You could totally do it."
His unwavering belief, his complete lack of cynicism, was infectious. You spent the rest of the afternoon building up the courage to take the leap.
By the time the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, you had a plan. He'd start a YouTube channel, something funny and relatable, and you’d start compiling a modelling portfolio.
That was the beginning. You and AJ, two kindred spirits who'd stumbled upon each other and opted for the road less travelled. You'd spent the next few years navigating the unpredictable terrain of your chosen paths, always there for each other as unwavering pillars of support.
AJ's YouTube channel, initially a solo venture, gradually morphed into something bigger. He started collaborating with other creators, forming a collective that eventually became Beta Squad.
Their goofy challenges, witty banter, and genuine camaraderie resonated with millions. You watched his star rise with a mixture of pride and disbelief. He was still the same AJ you knew, but now, he was AJ Shabeel, a bonafide internet sensation.
Your own journey was a whirlwind of castings, rejections, and the occasional triumph. You landed a few small campaigns, built your portfolio, and slowly started making a name for yourself.
The industry was cutthroat, filled with unrealistic expectations and relentless pressure, but you persevered, driven by the same determination that led you to walk out of that university on the first day.
Through it all, AJ was your constant. Late-night phone calls dissecting disastrous auditions, celebratory dinners after landing a big gig, pep talks when self-doubt threatened to consume you. He was your confidant, your cheerleader, your best friend.
He was also, unbeknownst to him, the silent anchor of your heart.
You'd carefully compartmentalized your feelings, tucking them away in a hidden corner of your mind. The fear of jeopardizing your friendship, the comfort of the familiar, had always outweighed the longing for something more. But lately, the walls you'd so meticulously built were starting to crumble.
Seeing him on screen, laughing with the other Beta Squad members, signing autographs for adoring fans, stirred something deep within you.
It wasn't jealousy, not exactly. It was more like a quiet ache, a yearning to be the one who made him laugh like that, the one he looked at with such genuine affection.
The realization had hit you hard a few weeks ago, a tidal wave of emotion that left you breathless. You were in love with your best friend.
It wasn't just his rugged good looks or the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, it was the way he listened, really listened, to your fears and aspirations.
The gentle touch of his hand on your shoulder during a particularly tough day, the way his voice could soothe your anxieties, the warmth of his embrace that never failed to make you feel safe.
It was the way he looked at you, not as a model or a muse, but as a person, a soulmate, a partner in crime.
But you'd convinced yourself that it was a one-sided affair, that AJ saw you as nothing more than a friend.
Until tonight.
The party was a blur of flashing lights and pounding music, a cacophony of laughter and the clink of glasses.
You'd had one too many, your thoughts swirling like the colors of the disco ball above your head. You'd stumbled into a quiet corner, seeking refuge from the chaos, when you felt a hand on your elbow.
"You okay?" AJ's voice was a lifeline in the storm, grounding you.
You nodded, leaning heavily against the wall. "Just tired," you murmured.
His gaze searched yours, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your bare skin. "You know you can talk to me, right?"
The words were out before you could stop them. "I do talk to you," you whispered, "but I don't know if you're listening to what I'm not saying."
The music seemed to fade into the background as AJ's hand stilled. His eyes searched yours, a question hanging in the air, unspoken. You felt your heart racing, the heat of his body against yours, the anticipation thick like the scent of your combined perfumes.
He leaned closer, his breath a warm gust against your ear. "What aren't you telling me?"
Your breath hitched, your body responding to his proximity with an ache that was impossible to ignore. "I'm in love with you, AJ."
The confession hung between you, a tangible thing, crackling with electricity. His hand tightened around your elbow, his eyes widening.
You braced for rejection, for the friendship to shatter into a million unfixable pieces.
Instead, he stepped closer, his free hand cradling your face. "You're my best friend," he said, his voice hoarse, "and I've been waiting for you to say that for so long."
The world stopped as he kissed you. It was nothing like the chaste pecks you'd shared as friends. This was a declaration of passion, a promise of forever.
His lips were firm, demanding, yet tender. The kiss was a symphony of sensations, a crescendo of desire that left you trembling.
As your lips parted, his eyes searched yours for permission, for confirmation that this was what you wanted. You nodded, unable to form coherent words, and he claimed your mouth again.
The taste of him was intoxicating, a blend of the whiskey from the party and the sweetness that was uniquely AJ.
The kiss grew deeper, more urgent, as his hand slipped from your elbow to the small of your back, pulling you into his embrace. You felt the firmness of his body, the thump of his heart against your chest.
His breath hitched in your ear as he pulled away, his eyes dark with a desire that mirrored your own.
"I... I can't believe this is happening," he whispered, tracing the curve of your jaw with his thumb. "I thought I was going to have to carry this unspoken feeling forever."
A laugh bubbled up from your chest, a mixture of relief and disbelief. "So, you... you feel the same?"
He nodded, his gaze intense. "More than you know. I've been terrified of ruining everything, of scaring you away. But tonight..." he hesitated, his eyes flicking downwards before meeting yours again. "Tonight, I couldn't stand it anymore."
With a gentle touch, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingertips lingering on the soft skin of your cheek. The warmth of his hand sent shivers down your spine, igniting a trail of fire that coiled in your belly.
He led you to the edge of the dance floor, where the music was a muffled rhythm that echoed through your bodies. The lights were dimmer here, casting shadows that danced on your skin as you moved closer to him.
"Good," you muttered into the crook of his neck, the word a sigh of relief that seemed to resonate through his entire being. His hands slid down your back, cupping your waist. The knowledge that he wanted you as badly as you wanted him was a heady aphrodisiac.
Your own hands found his shoulders, tracing the contours of his muscles through his shirt.
The fabric was damp with the heat of his skin, and the scent of him—that delicious mix of sweat, cologne, and the faint smokiness of his hair—filled your senses.
AJ's mouth moved from your lips, trailing kisses along your jaw, down your neck. Each brush of his lips sent a pulse of pleasure through you, and you felt your knees threaten to buckle.
"We've wasted so much time," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.
Your pulse quickened, and you leaned into him, the heat between you becoming palpable. "We don't have to waste any more," you whispered.
But AJ's arms tightened around you, and he pulled back slightly. "Let's wait until you're sober," he muttered, his voice a soft rumble in your ear. "I want to make sure you know what you're doing, that this isn't just the alcohol talking."
You blinked, the fog of desire and confusion clouding your thoughts for a moment.
But his words cut through the haze, and you nodded, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment. It was the responsible, caring thing to do, even though every part of you screamed for more.
AJ's arms loosened slightly, his thumb stroking your cheek in a comforting gesture. "I know this is new for you, and I don't want to rush you," he said, his voice a soothing balm to your racing heart. "But when you're ready, when you're sure, I'll be here."
You leaned into his touch, the tenderness of his words wrapping around you like a warm blanket. "Thank you," you breathed, your voice barely audible over the music.
The understanding in his eyes washed over you like a cool wave, easing the tension that had coiled around your heart.
AJ kissed you once more, a soft, lingering press of his lips to yours, sealing the unspoken promise that hung in the air. "Let's get you home," he said, his voice a gentle rumble that seemed to resonate in your very soul.
The drive home was a blur of city lights and the sound of your own racing heart. Each gear shift, each turn of the steering wheel, was a reminder that your life had just taken a sharp detour down a road you never knew existed.
His hand rested on the gearstick, the muscles in his forearm flexing and releasing in a hypnotic rhythm. You watched, your eyes drawn to the stark contrast of his skin against the leather.
The car stopped in front of your apartment, and the sudden silence was deafening.
You turned to him, the gravity of the moment pressing down on you like a heavy weight. The interior lights cast a soft glow over his features, highlighting the sharpness of his jaw and the dark pools of his eyes.
He reached out, his thumb tracing the plumpness of your lower lip. The touch was feather-light, sending a tremor of anticipation through your body.
"I've dreamed about this," he said, his voice a low, sensual rumble. "But not like this. I never wanted your first time to be because of a dare, or because you're tipsy."
You reached up to cover his hand with yours, the warmth of his skin searing into your palm. "It's not because of the dare," you assured him, your voice a whisper. "It's because of you."
His gaze searched yours, looking for the truth in your words. After a moment, a soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Okay," he murmured, the sound sending a delicious shiver down your spine. "But we're still taking it slow."
The walk to your apartment was fraught with tension, the kind that crackled in the air and made the hairs on your arms stand on end.
Each step you took brought you closer to the reality of what could happen, what you both wanted. The door closed behind you with a soft snick, and suddenly, the world outside ceased to exist.
AJ took your hand, his touch gentle but firm as he guided you down the hallway. Your heart hammered in your chest, each beat echoing through your veins like a drum.
The floorboards creaked softly underfoot, a reminder of the intimacy of the moment. The only light came from the sliver of moon peeking through the bedroom curtains, casting a silver glow across your bed.
He helped you to the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. Each movement was deliberate, a silent question that you answered with a nod, a blush, a deepening of your breath.
The mattress dipped slightly under your weight, and the coolness of the sheets was a stark contrast to the heat building between you.
His hands hovered over your shoulders, unsure if he should proceed. You reached up and pulled his face down to yours, kissing him with a hunger that surprised even you. The kiss grew deeper, more demanding, until the need for air became a distant concern.
When you finally broke away, you were both breathless.
"Will you stay over tonight?" you asked, the words slipping out before you could second guess yourself.
AJ's eyes searched yours, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. He took a deep, unsteady breath, the silence between you stretching taut as a bowstring.
"I… I can't," he murmured, the disappointment in his voice a dagger to your heart. "But not because I don't want to. I just don't think it's a good idea, not like this."
You nodded, trying to ignore the pang of rejection. You knew he was right; this wasn't the way you wanted it either. But the ache in your body was a persistent throb, a yearning that hadn't been satiated by the kiss.
AJ stood, his movements deliberate as he stepped back, putting space between you. You felt the chill of his absence like a cold shower. "But I want to," he continued, his voice thick with desire. "More than anything, I want to stay and explore this with you."
You swallowed, the air in the room suddenly too thick to breathe. "Then why can't you?" you managed to ask.
"Because," AJ said, his voice tight, "I want to do this right. I want to show you everything you deserve, not just because we're caught up in the moment."
His gaze held yours, unwavering. "I want to be the one who takes you to new heights, who makes you feel like the only person in the world. And I can't do that if you're not entirely sure."
You sat there, the fabric of your dress sticking to your skin as the heat of his words washed over you. The ache in your chest grew, a potent blend of desire and frustration. "But what if I am sure?"
AJ took a step closer, his eyes dark and intense. "Call me tomorrow," he said, his voice a velvet demand. "If you still feel this way when you're sober, when you've had time to think, then tell me the same thing."
Your stomach flipped at the challenge. The idea of waiting, of being unsure if this was just a drunken confession or the truth you've been too afraid to speak, was exhilarating. You nodded, your throat too tight to speak.
He leaned in, his breath a whisper against your cheek. "And when you do," he murmured, "make sure you mean it."
With that, he turned and walked away, the door clicking shut behind him. You remained on the bed, the warmth of his words a stark contrast to the cold emptiness of the room.
The moonlight played across your skin, illuminating the goosebumps that had risen in the wake of his touch. Your body hummed with need, your mind racing with the possibilities of what tomorrow could bring. . . .
