sober or not, I love you
dealer!chris x reader
matt's text is short and desperate: "chris's being cocky and handsy. save us"
you sigh, toss on your hoodie, and head to the house where the party's been going on for hours.
when you walk in, it's loud, the lighting's weirdly purple, and someone's already passed out on the stairs. you weaved your way through the crowd until you spotted him.
chris is leaning back against the kitchen counter, long legs crossed, drink in hand, eyes low. there are two girls standing close, clearly testing the limits of "friendly."
one of them playfully taps his chest. "you sure you're taken?"
chris just raises an eyebrow, tilting his head like it's the dumbest question he's heard all night. "very."
"what's her name?" the other one challenges.
that smug little smile spreads across his face, "wouldn't give it to you even if you asked nicely."
and then, like clockwork, his red eyes flick up, right over their heads and land on you.
his whole posture shifts. he stands straighter, subtly pushing off the counter, and without a word to the girls, starts walking straight towards you like gravity is dragging him.
you barely open your mouth before he's already in front of you, tall and unapologetically smug.
"hey," he says, voice smooth and low.
"you're drunk? and high?"
he shrugs, "and you're late."
he then leans in, no hesitation, hands finding your waist as he bends down just enough to nuzzle your cheek. his breath smells like lemon-lime soda and something sharper underneath.
"took you long enough."
you roll your eyes, pretending your not melting, "You've got groupies tonight?"
he hums lazily against your skin. "didn't even look at them. waste of time." his fingers slide just under the hem of your hoodie, settling at your hips like it's the most casual thing in the world. "why would I entertain that when I've got you?"
you glare at him, weakly. "you're really drunk."
"im really high," he corrects. "and a little drunk, which makes me honest."
matt walks past with two red solo cups and mutters, "he's been like this for hours."
you sigh, looping an arm around chris's waist to guide him toward the door. He didn't protest, just presses in closer, fingers tapping slow patterns against your side like he can't stop touching you now that your here.
he holds the door open for you, drunkenly bumping into the frame in the process. He then wraps both arms around you from behind as you step into the cool night air.
"i like my hoodie on you," he says into your neck. "even from across the room you looked hot. still do."
you scoff, "you're such a child."
he smirks, lips brushing your ear. "you love it."
and God, maybe you do. especially when he's this warm, this soft, this gentle, even when he smells like cheap vodka and weed.
he doesn't let go of you the entire walk to the car.
not even a little.
one arm wrapped around your waist, the other playing with the strings of your hoodie.
trailing up and down your side like he's memorizing the texture. he's humming under his breath, some random tune you don't recognize, and every couple of steps, he pulls you closer like he's making sure you don't disappear.
you open the passenger door for him and he grins, cocky and loose.
"you're so nice to me, ma," he drawls, leaning in close before getting in. "How'd I land you again?"
"years of being tolerable..and pre-rolls" you deadpan.
he just laughs, low and gravelly, head tilted back as he settles into the seat.
his hand immediately finds your thigh as you start the car— fingers warm through the fabric of your sweats, palm heavy, and claiming. you shoot him a glance.
"you good?"
"mhm," he says, turning his head to stare at you.
"you're so hot when you drive, ma. like—distractingly hot."
you let out a slow breath, "chris,"
"no, no, hear me out," he says, already sliding his hand higher. "you're doing the whole one-hand-on-the-wheel thing? absolute cinema."
you reach over to shove his hand back down—not too hard, but firm. he groans dramatically, flopping his head against the seat.
"rude."
"you're going to forget all of this in the morning."
"nope." he looks at you again, smiling. "burning it into my brain. my girlfriend. my uber driver. my soulmate."
you shake your head. soulmate? well that's a new one.
-
The moment you unlock the apartment door, he's on you again.
shoes kicked off haphazardly, jacket halfway unzipped, cheeks still flushed from the party. he closes the door behind you, then cages you against it without saying a word.
he leans in, lips barely brushing your temple. "you gonna tuck me in, sweetheart?"
"you're a big boy, you can handle yourself," you mutter, trying to breathe normally.
"you're so mean to me," he says, but he's smiling. his hands find your hips again, thumbs slipping under your shirt to press into your bare skin. "s'like you want me to beg."
"you are insufferable when you're drunk."
"but I'm still cute, right?" he asks, dipping down to kiss your neck, slow and lazy. "i love you so much, ma."
you open your mouth to respond, but he's already pulling you toward the couch, still touchy, still attached. he collapses onto it and drags you into his lap like he expected you to follow.
you don't even get a chance to adjust before he's wrapped around you like a human blanket, arms around your waist, face tucked into the crook of your neck, legs tangled with yours.
he exhales deeply.
you snort, "you're ridiculous."
"im in love," he mumbles into your shoulder, tightening his grip just slightly. "with the smartest, hottest, most patient girl in the world. and she came to pick me up like a knight in shining armor. you should get a sword."
"you're gonna be mortified tomorrow."
he grins, eyes closed, completely unbothered, "only if you don't stay here all night."
you go still for a second, then glance down at him, brushing the hair from his forehead.
"...you're already falling asleep."
he hums. "only 'cause you're warm, and pretty, and my spine is melting."
you stay there for a while--him clingy and drunk and too high for his own good. his fingers play with the hem of your shirt, drifting over your sides every so often like he can't help it. even as his breathing slows and his words blur, he doesn't let go.
you run your hands through his hair, take out the pre-rolled blunts and lighter from his pocket and drift off into a comfortable sleep.
-
you wake up to weight.
warm, heavy weight. long limbs tangled with yours, a lazy hand splayed over your stomach, and a slow, groggy breath against the back of your neck.
chris.
you shift slightly and feel him stir behind you, groaning into your shoulder, his voice scratchy and wrecked.
"ugh. what time is it?"
you check the phone beside you. "ten."
he groans louder, "that's disgusting."
"then go back to sleep."
you expect him to roll away, maybe throw the blanket over his face dramatically, but instead he tightens his hold on your waist, pulling you flush against him.
his hand skims beneath your shirt with a kind of sleepy confidence, palm warm on your bare skin. "mmm, no. this is fine. im good right here."
you snort, "you remember anything from last night, or did it all blur out around the second shot of vodka?"
he hums, "i remember..being amazing. rejecting two girls. saying some very romantic things."
you twist in his arms to face him. he looks like a mess, bed hair, puffy eyes, and a light hicky blooming beneath his jaw, probably your fault.
he blinks slowly at you, then smirks.
"and i remember thinking, very clearly, that my girlfriend is stupidly hot when she's mad at me."
you raise an eyebrow, "you literally climbed me like a tree in the hallway. i had to hold you up while unlocking the door."
"efficient," he mumbles, eyes dropping to your lips. "i was multitasking, admiring you and keeping you warm."
"you made out with my hoodie sleeve,"
he grins, unapologetic. "you were wearing it, that counts."
you press your fingers into his ribs. "chris, you're shameless."
he leans in closer, voice low and unbothered, "i told you i love you last night, didn't i?"
you pause, heart skipping once.
"...you did,"
he hums again, sleepy but smug. "then i meant it."
you blink, "you remember that?"
he nods against your pillow, brushing his nose against yours. "why wouldn't i remember telling you that?"
"because you were drunk,"
"yeah, but i wasn't lying." his voice softens a little, "i don't say stuff like that unless i mean it, you know that."
your heart twists. he's still warm, still a little sleepy and clingy, but there's something steady behind the lazy smile this time.
you push a hand through his hair and he leans into the touch automatically, eyelids fluttering shut like you're the cure to his hangover.
"i love you too," you whisper.
he smirks without opening his eyes. "i know."
he grumbles, burying his face in your chest. "still not moving, though." you give up trying to move at all.
as the day progressed you honestly thought he'd be more flustered.
you expected groaning, maybe hiding under your sheets for two hours, muttering things like "don't look at me" and "i didn't really say soulmate, right?"
but no.
chris rolls out of bed like he didn't practically confess his entire soul twelve hours ago, brushes his teeth, rolls a blunt, and steals a kiss before you can stop him.
-
it's noon now and he's been... weirdly calm.
too calm.
you're on the couch scrolling through your phone when he casually walks by, pretends like he's just going to the kitchen, then backpedals, bends down, and kisses the top of your head.
"what was that for?"
“felt like it,”
ten minutes later, he "accidentally" drops his phone beside you and leans over to grab it, with both arms beside your head, before kissing your cheek like it's nothing.
you narrow your eyes.
"chris,”
"what?" he says, blank-faced.
"you've kissed me three times in the past twenty minutes."
"correction," he says, pressing one to your jaw now. "four."
you blink.
"are you okay?"
"im great," he shrugs, now leaning against the couch like he doesn't have plans at all.
"my girlfriend picked me up from a party, let me fall asleep on her, and told me she loved me. i think im allowed to be annoying for at least twenty-four hours."
"you're being clingy."
he raises a brow. "if i was clingy i'd be-"
he cuts himself off by literally crawling into your lap.
"—doing this."
you laugh. "you're unbelievable."
"mhm." his arms wrap loosely around your waist, his head fitting under your chin as he sighs, all smug and sleepy and completely satisfied. "so you're saying i shouldn't keep kissing you every time I walk past?"
"im saying you're being obvious."
"so?"
he pulls back just enough to look at you. his eyes are sharp now, but soft around the edges in that way he only ever is with you.
"I like you," he says, quietly. "a lot."
"i know," you tease, brushing his hair back. "you said it last night, loudly. in front of two girls who were definitely flirting with you."
"yeah." he grins, unrepentant. "that was kind of fun."
you're about to reply when he cuts you off, again, with a kiss. this time slower, deeper, hands cradling your jaw like he's not letting you go for anything.
you melt a little, maybe a lot.
when he pulls you back, he's annoyingly smug.
"you weren't complaining then either,"
you stare at him, dazed. "chris."
he tilts his head, already leaning back in. "just one more,"
you roll your eyes but let him kiss you again anyway. he knows exactly what he's doing, and he's gonna keep doing it all day.
hellooo?? I finally wrote something?? yayayayyayay!! big ol' thank you to my moot for giving me a second opinion.
xoxo, truly
