Just One Night || Evan Peters AU

the morning after

      You stared at yourself in the large mirror that covered half the wall, in a bathroom that wasn't yours. Your frizzed hair and smeared mascara that you hadn't meant to sleep in made you look as dirty as you felt; you weren't the type to sleep around. One of your two closest friends, Nova, had dragged you out. You chose uncharacteristically to take a shot with her, then another, and another... and a few hours later you suddenly had the courage to go home with a guy sitting at the bar. You were fully aware and fully into it, but never would've had the balls to accept his invite back to his place had you been sober.

In the back of the Lyft a block away from his house, you'd both been handsy enough and he'd been sucking and kissing your neck so long that you finally tried to kiss his mouth. He turned his face slightly at the last second.

   "I don't kiss on the lips," he'd told you, words slurring slightly. "Just in case."

   You were moderately offended and amused at the same time. "You don't kiss on the lips, but we're going back to your place for...?" you trailed off, waiting for him to finish.

   His hands were suddenly off your hips and he threw them up cutely, "Call me crazy, but I think it's too intimate."

   "And sex isn't?"

   "Sex is sex, but kissing means falling in love."

You were too buzzed and touch deprived to argue further, so you grabbed a handful of the dirty-blond hair on the back of his head, and pushed his mouth back to your neck. You two picked up right where you left off.

Now here you stood in his bathroom, about 7 hours later, wearing way less than you were comfortable with. You peeked around the corner and made sure he was still asleep before tiptoeing around the room to gather what was yours. You figured you'd be courteous and put the wrapper from the condom you'd used in his bathroom trash. At least you were in the right mind enough to remember one of those. His bathroom, which was the size of your dining room, was skylit and boasted Calcutta gold in the form of a vanity, as well as a curtain wall of frameless glass that separated the toilet area from an oversized steam shower. What sat on the marble bench of that shower gave away that the place belonged to a single guy: 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner, and some off brand body wash.

Finally sure that you had gathered everything you came with all without waking him up, you took out your phone to call for another Lyft. Your notifications were insane: Nova was dying to know every detail, but she'd just have to wait. The Lyft app said someone would be arriving in 8 minutes. You sighed in relief, and sat gently at the edge of his bed to admire him.

His pink lips were parted just a little, long eyelashes making you jealous. He slept on his back with an arm raised over his head, and light goosebumps covered his unblemished skin: probably from the insanely low temperature he kept his house, along with the fan at the end of his bed. He was beautiful, you couldn't deny. When the Evan Peters started hitting on you while casually sitting at the bar, you thought taking him up on his offer might be a fun experience. Now you just wanted to kick yourself: why would you even risk getting wrapped up in something like this? He'd only been in one short-lived show and wasn't that famous, but he could be one day, and you didn't want to be another notch in his belt. You had other things to worry about, like your shitty boss, staying in touch with your parents and two little siblings, and how the hell you'd be getting your rent on time.

You got the 'arriving shortly' notification from your Lyft app and stood, taking one last glance at him. Maybe he'd never even remember you were there.

*****

      A few days later, you were two hours into your eight hour shift with your favorite coworker, Kyro. You worked at a Deli, not really a chain, but not your typical mom-and-pop place either. It tried to be modern and hip, but you guys sold discounted roast beef for crying out loud. But it was close to your place, so you took the job. You wiped your forehead with your wrist, carefully avoiding your gloved hand, and wished you had central air. It was mid-June and you guys had a box fan blowing with the door open to keep you cool; you often contemplated climbing in the cold display cases with the meats.

   "Liar!" a familiar voice shouted, entering the Deli. Your head snapped up to see Nova standing with a curled magazine in her hand.

   "Yoouuu said it was just some guy, and wasn't that important," she mocked your voice. She was referring to the other night, when she called to get all the details of your hookup. You hadn't wanted to stir her up or hear about it for the next year, so you'd told her it was just a guy, you two hooked up, and you wouldn't be seeing each other again. No big deal.

Kyro came out from the back, and relaxed once he saw it wasn't a stranger coming in to cause a scene. He dropped his rag onto the side of the sink and put a hand on his hip, waiting for the blue-haired girl to explain herself. His flamboyancy was obvious in all his mannerisms. Nova strode proudly over to you in her knee-high leather boots and slapped the magazine in front of you on top of the display case, popping her bubblegum proudly.

Your cheeks and ears instantly heated, and you knew both were red. Huge yellow letters read, "RISING STAR EVAN PETERS' LATE NIGHT LOVER", with multiple pictures of you in minimal clothing leaving his house. 

Your one night of being wild was on the front page of a magazine you knew was all over town.