#idk it's almost sunrise I can't think straight lmao

[moonlight-ghoulette]

Happy birthday @arentiaclevergirl! As promised, here is your fake relationship ficlet as my gift to you :)

“A work party?” Rhett asked incredulously, mouth full of toast, eyebrows pulled together in confusion. Link crumpled down into the chair at the opposite end of the table. “I thought you said you weren’t ever going to bother going to any of ‘em, and now suddenly I have to go too?”

“I know, I know. I just, I kind of have to go now.” Link sighed, arms splayed over the table in front of him.

“But what’s that got to do with me then?”

Link dropped his head to the table between his outstretched arms.

“I dug myself into a hole and I need your help. Just this once”

Rhett paused, putting his toast down, staring hard at Link. Link wearily lifted his head, grimacing apologetically at his roommate and best friend of too many years to count, inhaling deeply in preparation for his monologue that he was sure was only going to piss Rhett off.

“I’ve told you about Caitlyn, yeah?”

Rhett nodded slowly, his face still twisted in confusion.

“How she’s been non-stop tryin’ to get me to go out to lunch together on break, inviting me out for drinks after work, constantly touching me when we talk, breathin’ down my neck any moment she can? Well, I… I told her I was gay?”

Rhett nearly choked on his orange juice.

“So you skip over telling her you’re not interested, and go straight to ‘I’m gay’?!”

Link shrugged, letting his arms drop heavily back onto the table in defeat.

“I panicked, okay?”

Rhett shook his head in disbelief, standing up from the table to put his plate in the sink.

“So what, you want me to accompany you to your work party to masquerade as your boyfriend so you--”

“Husband,” Link interrupted, muttering under his breath. He flinched as the plate was dropped hard into the sink. He turned in time to see Rhett slowly and menacingly turn around to face him.

“You’re kidding.”

Link shook his head, covering his face and his bright red blush of embarrassment with his hands.

“She apparently didn’t care that I was gay. ‘Gay,’” Link ephasized with finger quotes. “Or she didn’t believe me, I don’t know. Guess I don’t blame her. So I told her I was married to cover my ass. Of course then word got out and everyone was curious, and I became an enigma. Everyone wanted to know his name, why I didn’t have a wedding band, why I never talk about him, how long I’ve been gay, who wears the pants in the relationship, where we went for our honeymoon,”

Rhett carefully sat back down across from Link, his face frozen in bewilderment.

“So now everyone is dying to meet my husband who they’ve heard so much about.”

“That’s not a hole you dug yourself there, Brother. That’s a canyon.”

Link slouched back down onto the table, nodding in agreement. They sat in silence for a minute, processing it all. Link glanced up when Rhett shifted in his seat, clearing his throat.

“Okay. I’ll do it. But you owe me big time for this.”

Link’s solemn expression cracked, a faint glimmer of a hopeful smile peeking through.

“So I guess I should know a little more about myself then, right? What’s my name?”

Link paused, his eyes widening, the blush coming back with a vengeance.

“R-Rhett.”

Rhett rolled his eyes, leaning onto his elbows.

“I know my own name dumbnut, what’s my alias?”

Link sputtered, his fingers nervously rapping the table’s surface.

“It’s Rhett.”

Rhett leaned in further, his eyebrows furrowing.

“You named your fake husband after me?”

Link nodded into his hands. He was sure he was going to implode right then and there.

Rhett stood up and walked off towards his bedroom, feigning an irritated sigh, turning back before he was out of view.

“You really owe me big time for this.”

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

The ride to the venue that night was surprisingly not as tense as either of them had anticipated. They went back and forth quizzing each other on Rhett’s alias; They met 6 years ago in their senior year of college, married 2 years ago in a small courthouse ceremony. Their beliefs didn’t require wedding bands so they just didn’t bother. They honeymooned in Boulder, Colorado and it was very nice, thank you for asking. Don’t answer the pants question.

Link fidgeted with his blazer in the passenger seat, flipping open the visor to check his hair one too many times. Rhett glanced over, letting out a short chuckle.

“You look fine, babe.” Rhett said with almost not enough emphasis on the pet name. Link froze, slowly closing the visor as he turned his head towards Rhett in the driver’s seat. Rhett glanced over, laughing at Link’s sheepish expression.

“What? If you really want Caitlyn to hop off your dick, it needs to be convincing, right? I’m not gonna mack on you for the sake of saving you from your own lies, so we need something to make it seem real.”

Link nodded, turning back into his seat. His cheeks flushed as his lips silently echoed the term of endearment to himself.

Link was sure that one way or another, this night was going to be the death of him.

They strode into the quaint, dimly lit banquet hall and took in their surroundings. Balloons and crepe paper lined the walls and upbeat pop music played from ceiling-mounted speakers at a modest volume. Small groups of colleagues huddled together, cheerily conversing and laughing over unknown beverages in red solo cups. A few couples mingled on the small wooden dance floor in the middle of the room, bobbing their heads as they engaged in small talk. Rhett’s eyes scanned across the modest crowd, suddenly catching those of a young blonde female. Her eyes flitted between the two of them for a moment before her face lit up in excitement. Before Rhett could ask Link if that was his not so secret admirer, she was already jogging over. Link stiffened up when the woman neared, his hand racing to grab onto Rhett’s in the most awkward, rushed fashion.

“Charles! You’ve finally decided to be part of the team for once!” the woman quipped, her hand brushing along the collar of Link’s blazer. Rhett quickly concluded this was the girl in question. Link side-stepped closer to Rhett, his hand gripping tighter, his fingers trembling.

“Ha ha, funny. Anyway, Caitlyn,” Link said with the slightest emphasis for Rhett’s sake, “this is my, uh. My husband, Rhett. Rhett, this is my coworker, Caitlyn.”

Caitlyn smirked, her eyes scanning Rhett up and down as if inspecting the quality of a new appliance.

“Well well, he does exist after all. Nice to finally meet you, Rhett. You sure are a lucky man for finding Charles when you did.” Caitlyn said with a wink directly aimed towards Link.

Rhett felt an immediate twinge of offense and possession. He wrapped his arm around Link’s waist, pulling him into his side a little harder than he initially intended.

“Sure am.” Rhett beamed, aiming for a polite smile but achieving more of a shit-eating grin.

“You know, Charles just would not shut up about you! Once he finally opened up, it was like the floodgates burst open. You should see his face when he talks about you, oh I’ve never seen someone so smitten--”

“Rhett, honey, we should introduce you to everyone else before they run off!” Link loudly interrupted, his feet scuffing the floor as he leaned his weight into Rhett, shuffling them off and away from Caitlyn’s rambling as fast as he could. Rhett looked down at Caitlyn’s surprised face as he was pushed away, his proud grin still plastered on his face. Rhett chuckled, drinking in Link’s flustered face as he leaned into him, prompting him to keep walking.

“You talk about me a lot, huh?” Rhett said down towards Link with an air of arrogance, earning him a slap to his upper arm.

“Don’t drown in your ego.”

“Oh, come on Linkster. I’m just giving you a hard time.”

“I did it for the act, Rhett. Talkin’ about you just… It came easier to me. It was easier to pretend I was in love with you and not some imaginary person because, I mean...” Link said, his voice dropping low. Rhett could almost make out a hint of pain in his tone. Rhett planted his feet and stopped them in place, turning to face Link.

“Is it, though?” Rhett asked, craning his neck down to catch Link’s eyes with his own. Link blinked back in confusion, his face flushing pink with the close proximity.

“Is it really all just an act?” Rhett clarified, his voice soft, a reassuring smile peeking out from under his beard. Link’s eyes flicked between Rhett’s, a deluge of emotions present in one single, long gaze. Link shut his eyes tight and dove into Rhett’s chest, wrapping his arms tightly around his chest, burying his face tight into Rhett’s shirt.

Rhett smiled sweetly as he held Link close. His feelings for Link were always there, but never dwelled upon for long. But now, they were finally justified. It was a quick, unextraordinary spark from a life-long fuse, a simple and calm justification of his feelings after years of tamping them below the surface. He loved Link. He’d always loved Link, but he was never sure if the feelings were completely mutual and never worked up the courage to test the theory in fear of damaging what they already had. Sure, they’d shared a bed before. There were many nights they’d share a blanket during a movie, pressed closer together than what would normally be considered “platonic male friend” friendly. They’ve undressed in the same room, bared their deepest emotions with each other, have held gazes longer than socially appropriate. But Rhett never had an official verification.

Until today. Rhett felt sure of it. It was all too personalized to be an act on Link’s part. Link could have easily come up with a completely different human and have him play the part. Instead, he spoke of Rhett utterly as he was, and he did it truthfully and with passion. This moment of justification may not have been filled with a dramatic swelling of violins and a choir of angels as he’d imagined something like this may have been, but it made Rhett no less ecstatic.

After a long minute Link slowly released his tight grip, his eyes slowly trailing up to Rhett’s, shinier than before with the slightest pool of tears gathered on his lower lid. His smile was modest, but he was still absolutely beaming as he looked up to Rhett. His expression was radiating love and hope and relief and bliss. All the same feelings Rhett was experiencing. He hoped it showed through just as much in his smile. Rhett gave Link a final squeeze before taking hold of his hand, leading them back into the throng, both with a pep in their step that wasn’t there before.

They nearly made it to the wet bar when a small group of colleagues called Link over, unsurprisingly inquiring about Rhett. Rhett stood tall next to Link, a hand held tight to his narrow waist after shaking hands with the group. He nodded and added a few words here and there, confirming Link’s generated backstory for the both of them. They stood closer now, unafraid of crossing any imaginary boundaries now that the dam had broke loose. Rhett was truly enjoying himself at this point. Most of the credit as owed to the way Link unabashedly gushed about how wonderful their relationship was to save face, the stories coming easier now as if they had actually happened and weren’t just daydreams. Rhett’s mind floated off to the possibilities of making these charades into actual memories as Link continued to chat with his coworkers.

It wasn’t long before Rhett’s attention was quickly pulled back to reality when he felt a hand clap him on his shoulder, excited shouts of “Go! Go!” and excited faces beaming at him from Link’s colleagues. Rhett’s eyes settled down onto Link’s coy expression as he raised his eyebrows in question. Link nodded his head towards the dancefloor.

“It’s a slow song, for a couple’s dance.” Link answered shyly, his smile growing wider.

Rhett’s expression softened as he took Link’s hand, giving a nod to the group as they walked off towards the middle of the venue. A small handful of couples were already swaying together to the sweet tune as they stepped onto the smooth wooden floor. 

Rhett turned towards Link, first placing his hands on his shoulders, then slowly pulling him in, his arms draping over Link’s back. Link wrapped his hands around Rhett’s waist, his body flush with Rhett’s. They gazed at each other, lost in the endorphin rush that never left from the moment they silently admitted their feelings, wide smiles unable to be dulled if they tried.

“Husbands, huh?” Rhett joked softly, his head cocking to the side as he smiled sweetly down at Link. “I think this is a new record for fastest relationship.”

Link giggled softly, pressing his forehead to Rhett’s chest for a moment, inhaling his scent.

“We were basically an old married couple anyway,” Link quipped, looking back up at Rhett. “But really Rhett. I mean, I’m not saying we have to, especially if you don’t want to or change your mind down the line. I mean I don’t even fully know what’s happening right now, like what we are or what we’re going to be from here on but, gosh. I don’t know. I think we need to earn that title, you know? Work up to it? Is that okay? Did I just ruin the moment?”

Link was stopped in his tracks when he felt a hand cup his cheek and soft lips pressed to his own. He instantly melted into the kiss, his hold on Rhett tightening as he closed his eyes, sinking into the wonderful, new feeling. He blinked back to reality as Rhett pulled away, pure love pouring out of his expression.

“You’re not getting rid of me if you try, Link. I’ve been yours since the day I met you, and I’ll wait as long as you need. A slip of paper and a piece of metal won’t change nothin’ about how I feel about you.”

Link’s eyes suddenly went blurry as he smiled so wide it hurt, reaching up on his toes to dive into another kiss; The second kiss of tens of thousands to come.

[supernovafics]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇

pairing: dylan o’brien x best friend fem!reader

summary: in which dylan has been your best friend for as long as you could remember. your busy lives and schedules may have pushed both of your lives in vastly different directions as you’d gotten older, but somehow you two would always be led back to your hometown, and each other, during the holidays. however, one moment causes all of that to change. 

warnings: angst (what else is new), some fluffiness, mentions of past trauma (the maze runner incident), existential crises, explicit language

word count: 3.6k words

author’s note: idk why i decided to write something christmas related in the summer but it happened lmao (also i feel like it’s slightly important to mention that this takes place in 2016)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The rocks being thrown at your window were not what woke you up. Instead, you had been lying awake for hours; getting little to no sleep was something that you had become used to at this point.

However, on this specific night— or morning, depending on how one looked at it— you were glad that your sleep had been restless once again because it made it easy for you to get out of bed and walk to your window when the rocks began hitting it.

There was really no need for you to push open the curtains and check who was doing the throwing because, of course, it was Dylan. Ever since he moved onto your street in Hermosa Beach in middle school and the two of you easily became friends, he was the only person that would ever wake you up in the middle of the night with the soft pings of rocks, especially on this specific day at this specific time.

You waved at him and gestured that you would be down in a moment. You slipped on a random pair of sweatpants along with a hoodie and then placed the Christmas gift that you bought for him in the pocket. The item was small enough to fit in the not too big pocket of your hoodie; however, it did awkwardly protrude a bit.

All of this was a sort of unspoken tradition that the pair of you had developed over the many years you’d known each other. Meeting at five in the morning on Christmas day, walking to the beach that was only a few blocks away from your respective childhood homes, and exchanging Christmas gifts with each other as you both watched the sunrise. It started when you were in ninth grade, and you hadn't missed a year since, not even when the ending of high school pushed your lives in vastly different directions, especially since Dylan graduated a year before you and was almost immediately thrust into his acting career.

But, it didn't matter that Dylan's career took off, and you eventually decided to go to college in Santa Barbara, because, no matter what, you both would always come back for the holidays.

When you opened your front door and saw Dylan lingering by the sidewalk no more than ten feet away, you were quick to go toward him and pull him in for a tight embrace. It actually hadn't been too long since you’d last seen him, maybe only five or six months, but for some reason, it still felt as if the last time he was in front of you was last December.

"Hey," Dylan breathed out in a short greeting, his arms wounding around your waist.

“Hey to you too," You responded, a small smile gracing your features when you both pulled away, and you looked up at him. "How have you been?"

It was quiet for a few moments as you waited for him to answer the question, but eventually, you were met with no verbal response, and instead, Dylan simply shrugged. The short action made your heart constrict in the most painful way, and it was then that you noticed the light remnants of a scar peeking out from behind his dark hair that covered the majority of his forehead. You were quick to peel your eyes away from the scar and instead cast them down at your Converse-covered feet, but that didn't stop the memories from quickly coming back.

The Maze Runner accident had happened back in March, but to you, and you knew to Dylan as well, it felt as if it was just yesterday, especially considering the fact that he was still dealing with the unavoidable repercussions from it.

"Wanna walk?" You asked, finally looking up at him once again.

Dylan nodded. "Yeah."

A silence that could only be deemed as comfortable lingered between them as the two of you took the five-minute walk to the beach and sat down side by side on one of the random empty benches.

"Merry Christmas, Y/N," Dylan said as he handed a present over to you. The present was messily wrapped, something that was not at all uncommon when receiving gifts from Dylan, and the sight of it made you smile.

Before you unwrapped the gift, you pulled out the one you had for him and handed it over. "Merry Christmas, Dyl."

The nostalgic sound of wrapping paper ripping could be heard as you tore into your gift. A simultaneous shocked and happy yelp emitted from your lips when you held up a Harry Potter t-shirt. But, it wasn't just any Harry Potter t-shirt; it was one with a version of the Goblet of Fire movie poster on it, which was your all-time favorite movie in the series.

"Holy shit."

"It's the original merch that was sold when the movie came out," Dylan told you. He hadn't opened his gift yet, and instead, he was playing with the green bow placed on top of it; he always liked to see your reaction first.

You looked at Dylan and then back down at the shirt as you processed his words. "Wow, double holy shit. I would put it on if it wasn't freezing right now."

Dylan laughed a bit. "Very understandable."

“Why haven't you opened yours yet? I'm dying to see what you think of it," You said. You were now holding the t-shirt to your chest, genuinely feeling like a little kid on Christmas morning again.

Dylan finally began unwrapping your gift to him, and when all of the paper was peeled off, there was a square box. "Aw, a plain white box. Thank you so much. This is what I've always wanted."

You rolled your eyes and playfully bumped him with your shoulder. "Ha ha. Please save all of these bad jokes for your stand-up act; I can't wait to boo you off the stage along with everyone else."

"So, what I'm hearing is you don't think that becoming a comedian is going to be the next best career move for me?" Dylan asked. He attempted to make the question sound as serious as possible, but there was a joking undertone to his words.

You bit back your laughter. "Please just open the box already so I don't have to hurt your feelings by truthfully answering that question."

"Okay, we'll circle back to that topic later," Dylan smiled and then finally opened the white box to reveal a slightly faded baseball. When he picked it up, he ran his thumb over the black signature written on it. "Now it's my turn to say holy shit."

You could feel yourself smiling at his awestruck reaction, and you wondered if that was what you looked like when you saw the Harry Potter shirt. The baseball was signed by one of the players of the New York Mets that had been Dylan's favorite player when he was younger, and he'd even caught a ball hit by him when he went to a game before he moved to California.

"I've had this idea for years, but I could never find a baseball signed by him," You began explaining, the excitement clear in your voice. "But, last month, someone named Paul Todd posted this on eBay and I immediately bought it. God bless that old man. It's completely authentic and everything."

Dylan was quiet for a few moments as he simply looked at the baseball in his hands, a small joyful smile on his face, and it made you happy to see him so genuinely elated with the present.

"This just made my gift look like shit," He finally said, a light laugh falling from his lips.

"I have always been the superior gift giver. I think that's my hidden talent," You responded with a playful smirk.

Dylan placed the baseball back in its box and then looked at you. "Next year you will receive the best gift ever from me. It will completely top everything that you have ever given me."

"You're saying that as if I should feel upset about receiving a trip to Italy as a Christmas gift."

"A trip to Italy?"

"In my strong opinion, that would be the best gift ever," You said with a smile and then looked down at the t-shirt, which was now in your lap. "But, anyway, I don't think this gift is shit. I'm in love with this shirt already."

Dylan let out a joking, overexaggerated sigh in relief. "Phew, okay, since you think this gift is great, that means I don't have to do the trip to Italy next year."

"What? Did I say I like this t-shirt? I hate it! Harry Potter actually su— Fuck, I can't say this with a straight face," You laughed, and Dylan was quick to join in with you.

The joking statements leading up to the laughter hadn't even been the funniest things ever, but it didn't matter because this was probably the hardest you had laughed in a while, and you were both glad and unsurprised that it was with one of your favorite people in the entire world.

You missed joking around and laughing with him. You missed simply being with him.

Eventually, the laughter died off, but there was still a smile planted firmly on your face. You looked ahead at the darkness in front of you and the ocean that looked completely black; it was still kind of early, so the sun hadn't begun to rise just yet. Your back pressed against the wooden bench, and you let out a small sigh, your head finding Dylan's shoulder as you leaned against him.

"How have you been?" You asked him, your words coming out both soft and slightly quiet, and before the mood became too serious with your question that was nothing but serious, you attempted to lighten it. "And please no shrugs as a response this time. I don't wanna get a headache due to my head bouncing off your shoulder."

Dylan let out a breath of a laugh at your final statements but refrained from answering the question for a few moments.  

After what felt like forever, he sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "I honestly don't know. My mind has felt so fucked lately, thinking about everything. I swear I've been feeling every feeling known to man these past months."

"What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

"I'm really happy with you. This is probably the only normal and familiar thing I've experienced in a while. But, of course, there's still that confused feeling in the back of my mind revolving around everything else." He paused for a brief moment before continuing, his next words came out quieter. "I don't even know if I want to go back to acting."

You lifted your head off his shoulder and looked at him as you pulled his hand into yours and gave it a light, reassuring squeeze.

"No matter what you decide. I'll be right there to support you," You told him and then added a "bro" at the end of her sentence along with a small smile. Whenever things became too deep in a conversation you two were having, one of you would always throw a "bro" or "dude" in there to bring some playfulness to the mood.

The corners of Dylan's perked up a bit. "So, you'll support me when I decide to become a comedian?"

You were unable to stifle your light laughter. "Yes, fine, fuck it. I'll be the loudest one laughing at all of your shows."

Dylan squeezed your hand back because he knew exactly how reluctantly true your words were. "Don't worry, I promise not to put you through that."

"Thank you."

"So, how have you been?"

"No."

"Oh, come on," Dylan said as he playfully poked your side. "I'm not gonna be the only one exposing my feelings."

You sighed and then hesitantly nodded. "Okay, okay."

The truth was you had been far from good lately. Your life was moving, but for some reason, you felt like you weren’t moving with it.

You felt stuck.

Stuck in a confusing mindset where you had absolutely no idea what you wanted to do with your life. You thought that identity crises usually happened in high school, but apparently, yours had come five years late. But, you knew that this delayed identity crisis had been your own doing because you had convinced herself that you would figure everything out once you were in college; and you were both lucky and smart enough to receive a full ride to UCSB.

And although you were finishing up your Master's degree in Creative Writing and had a TA job at the university with the department, which was the reason behind why you could even pay for the Master's program, something in your "should be great" life simply did not feel right.

However, you felt absolutely terrified to say any of that out loud because admitting it would only finally make that statement a wholehearted truth, instead of just a spiraling thought in your mind. And even though Dylan was your best friend and you knew you could tell him anything and not receive any sort of judgment, it still felt hard to let the words leave your lips.

You thought about the way to perfectly word everything, but nothing felt right. You pulled your hand away from Dylan's and covered your face as you let out an exasperated breath. "I can't figure how to say it all."

Dylan placed an arm around you and then mimicked the same question you had asked him not too long ago. "What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

You would have both laughed and smiled at the fact that he was using your exact words if the current circumstances were different.

"Scared," You finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what the fuck I wanna do anymore, and actually, I don't think I really ever did. I only went to college because of the scholarship, and I convinced myself that I would figure my life out when I got there. And for a while, things felt right because I found creative writing and genuinely enjoyed it, but something doesn't feel right anymore. And I actually do like school. Because it's stable, and I am doing things, even if it's taking a dumbass test. But, it's about to be over soon, and I have no idea what I'm gonna do."

Your words were coming out like vomit, and nothing could stop it because finally, everything you had been feeling for so long was out of your head and put into the open.

"And don't get me wrong, I do love to write, but I don't know, I just can't see myself doing it for the rest of my life," You admitted and then let your next words come out quietly. "Honestly, I can't see myself doing anything. I'm so unhappy here."

You did not say it aloud, but you didn't think you were ever fully content there. Aside from Dylan and your parents, you never truly liked California. You had grown up there all your life, and although there were millions of people that adored the state, you felt the exact way someone from a state like Wyoming probably felt.

Dylan did not verbally respond to your long confession at first; instead, he simply pulled your confused and stressed self in for a hug, and you let out the simultaneous sigh and breath that you had been metaphorically holding in for years at this point.

"Maybe you should take a break," Dylan finally said; his arms were still around you, an action that made you feel completely comforted. "Right after high school, you went straight to college, and I don't think you've ever really taken a break to really think about what you actually want. Like, maybe, it's becoming a zookeeper."

Your laugh was slightly muffled by the fact that your face was pressed into the warmth of Dylan's chest. "Zookeeper?"

"I don't know," He laughed too. "You said you would support me in whatever the fuck I decide to do, and I'll do the exact same for you."

Somehow a smile found its way on your face. "A zookeeper and a comedian. What a fucking dream team."

Another laugh fell from Dylan's lips. "The best fucking dream team."

"But, honestly, I wish I could've known sooner that this is how you've been feeling. I would've been telling you to slow down so long ago, but you seemed content with everything," Dylan told you and gave you another light squeeze. "Please take a break and don't stress yourself out over the future when your next semester is over. Just relax for the first time. You can even come stay with me in LA for a little bit if that's where you wanna take your break. I'll be here for you, Y/N. Always."

Something about his words hit you hard. The wholehearted honesty and sincerity behind his statement shouldn't have surprised you, but it did. And the worry he had for you resembled the same concern you had for him when the accident happened. You two were best friends, so it should not have been a shock that you would worry about each other, but still, in that moment and for you, it was shocking because it felt like so much more than just that.

"Me too," You whispered, finally responding to his previous statement.

The long embrace came to an end with you being the one to pull away; however, you did not pull away far enough for you both to become completely detached from one another. Dylan's arms were still around your waist, and yours were still around the nape of his neck, and your faces were dangerously close. Your hand somehow took on a mind of its own as it reached around and cupped Dylan's cheek. The miniscule confusion and tickle of panic that began to prick at the back of your mind because of the action were not enough to make you pull away.

The slight way that Dylan leaned into your soft touch was the catalyst for you to take the leap and lean in the tiniest bit to close the small distance between the two of you, your lips almost too easily finding his. The inward sigh of contentment you emitted when Dylan almost immediately kissed you back made you realize that kissing him was the one thing currently happening in your life that actually felt right.

Later, when thinking back to that specific moment, you would wonder if that "rightness" had always been there between you both.

However, that right feeling, which was both comfortable and familiar, was quickly replaced with dread and angst, at least on your part. Your mind was beginning to fully catch up with your actions, and it immediately told you that the current action was both bad and stupid, and there were many, many reasons that proved that.

Maybe there were moments where a younger, and even present-day, you did want more to happen between you and Dylan, but you would always push that thought away because you knew that your and Dylan's friendship was so much more valuable.

And then it was the fact that your lives were nothing alike. Even though you were immensely confused about where your life was going, you could say for certain that it wasn't going in the same direction as Dylan's; an acting career that he genuinely loved and enjoyed too much to truly give up. Something deep down told you that, and you could feel the truthfulness behind the thought. The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect.

You abruptly pulled away, not just from the kiss but from Dylan's body entirely, moving to the edge of the bench you were on. Your hands covered your face in nothing but pure embarrassment and regret, and you wished that you could take back the last minute and a half of your life. And you also absolutely hated that you couldn't help but notice how much colder your body felt now that it was away from Dylan's.

"Oh my God. I'm sorry. Fuck. That kiss— it was a mistake. I'm really sorry." Your words came out rushed and fumbled, and it probably did not make much sense, but you just hoped that there was at least a little bit of coherency with them.

As much as you wanted to look at Dylan, you refused to do so because you knew that you would only see the regret you were feeling written clear across his face.

"Hey, it's okay, Y/N. Everything's fine. Don't worry," You heard him say but could hear the uncertainty in his voice as if he really didn't know if everything truly was fine. And you knew that it wasn’t. It really wasn’t.

The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect, and you had just completely ruined that.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know your thoughts <3

((((already potentially thinking about doing a part 2 to this….. but idk…))))