"Hey, Y/N are you almost done?" Oli knocked on the bathroom door.
"Yeah one sec," you called back to him.
You were getting ready to go for a night out with the boys and some other friends, having not been out for a considerably long time you were excited to say the least.
"Alright, Joe needs to get something out of there when you finish."
You rolled your eyes but didn't say anything. You and Joe had a bit of a feud going on, you hated each others' guts and neither of you knew exactly why.
There wasn't much that could be done about it either, you were both Oli's best friends and as long as he was around you'd have to deal with each other. And it wasn't like Oli made you guys spend time together. Nope, all you had to do was merely accept each others existence. Simple. Or at least it should be.
Once you were done in the bathroom you opened the door and stepped out into the hall, already seeing Joe walking your way. "Took you long enough," he mumbled.
As you walked past him to the stairs you made sure to give him a little jab in his arm.
He made an awkward grunting noise that made you laugh but you put your hand over your mouth and hurried down the stairs before he could notice.
A few minutes later you were sitting on a couch downstairs with Caspar and Josh when Joe came bounding down the stairs. You had to admit he looked good. If you were going to be honest with yourself you found him very attractive but just not enough to make you hate him any less. You caught your eyes wandering down his tall frame and turned back to the boys before you got carried away.
When Josh looked up and saw Joe standing at the stairs he said, "Oh good, are you ready? Go get Oli everyone else is already on their way to the club."
-
When you finally arrived at the club the maynards went to get drinks for the group while the rest of you went to find tables.
"Y/N c'mon let's go dance!" Mikey yelled over the music, pulling you up out of your seat and dragging you to the dance floor.
Before long you were in the middle of the dance floor sweating, moving your body to the beat. You could feel eyes on you but all you cared about was the music. You hadn't been out in so long and it felt great to let loose a little.
You spotted Joe sitting at the table with an unreadable look on his face, staring at you. Maybe it was the alcohol that made you do it but you decided to keep eye contact with him and dance a lot more suggestively, holding his gaze a moment before turning back to Mikey.
A few hours with more drinking and dancing passed before you all decided to go home, considering how many people had thrown up already.
-
"AYE WHO WANTS TO PLAY TRUTH OR DARE?" Jack slurred.
Those who hadn't passed out on couches agreed loudly while you thought about it.
"Yeahhh let's do it!" You said. What could go wrong with a little truth or dare?
You, Josh, Jack and Conor, Joe and a couple others sat down in a circle in the middle of the floor which ended up looking more like an oval.
Instinctively, your eyes cast quickly around the faces in the room. Admittedly, your heart sank at the realisation that not all of your friends would be hopping in on the game—not even Truth Or Dare's biggest fan would, if they were completely sloshed. Caspar definitely seemed the most out of it, with hooded eyes and a gargantuan grin stretched across his face; one that could rival the Cheshire Cat's. Though you probably weren't far behind. Briefly glancing down at your petite hand, you had to blink multiple times and rid the vision of a duplicated hand, just before pondering that maybe you shouldn't have drank so much.
"Alrigh—t," Caspar began, his words unbelievably slurred as he almost choked on his own sentence. From the corner of your eye, you saw Oli shake his head, and you were immediately thankful that the group had someone sober on-hand. "I'm gonna start then! Oi Josh, tru—truth, or dare?"
It was almost as if Josh was about to fall asleep, with his arms folded and limp body leaning against Joe's shoulder. Chin buried into his chest, it took a snappy click of Joe's fingers in front of his face to bring his mind back 'round. Miraculously, he replied with utmost confidence and wide eyes, "truth!"
"Oi, pussyole," Caspar grumbled, only to burst out in laughter at his own comment. He was surprisingly vivacious when drunk, and you dared to prefer him when he was like this. There was a pause, thick silence lingering in the air before he piped up again, with a smug grin, "okay so hear me out," he started, and the group gave a unanimous groan. It could only be bad. "If you'd have to fuck one girl. Who would she be?"
Your ears twitced as someone "oo"'d suspiciously, while Josh only gulped, thickly. Practically noticing sweat beading at his hairline like pearls, you sighed in relief as you'd hate to be in his position right now. However, you felt stern eyes on you. The feeling was brief, but there nevertheless. It wasn't hard to tell who was staring though, even without looking. The glare was cold, and firm, and sultry, and envious, and only one person, filled to the brim with such resentment, could be described with so many negative attributes. Joe was looking at you, and it was clear to see who he thought Josh would choose. He was jealous. He knew it. But most importantly, so did you.
Suppressing a smug smirk was embarrassingly hard, especially when intoxication made your mind unfathomably hazy, but ego was swarming your heart, and made it palpitate in ways you couldn't describe. But then Josh gave another gulp, and spluttered out a name nobody seemed to expect, "I think Jesse is alright. Y'know—Fa...Fangs"
All at once, everything crumbled. Your ego dropped, Caspar seemed quite obviously disappointed, everyone was hoisted from the edges of their seats, and Joe sighed a deep sigh of relief. The flare of jealousy in his eyes burned out almost immediately, and some sick, twisted part of you wanted it to reignite. Disgusted with yourself, you frantically shook your head and allowed yourself to delve into your own thoughts. Background noise was a mere blur, your ears unable to focus on the barely recognisable voices as alcohol intertwined with your blood. The trance was only demolished when you heard a garbled voice murmur your name. Jerking your head up, eyebrows arched, you hummed in perplexity before Oli asked you the inevitable question, "truth or dare?"
When it came down to it, you didn't really care. Nothing was going to come out of it, and even if it did, you probably wouldn't remember it tomorrow. So without a second thought and with minimal preparation for what was to be asked of you, "dare." Then the games began.
Truthfully, Oli was sick of the constant fighting between yourself and Joe. Though arguments didn't always break out into to-the-death fights, he always noticed the childish glares, the unfriendly mannerisms, the backhanded threats, the impulses that made him worry for your safety, and it pissed him off. He couldn't handle it anymore. He had two best friends that hated each-other for whatever reason, and now war broke out ravenously in the house. But as a grin danced on his lips, he couldn't help but recite an infamous quote in his head: make love, not war.
"Okay," the rapper replied smugly. Too smugly for your liking, and the mere smile made your skin crawl. Eyeing him suspiciously, you watched as his gaze flickered between you and Joe like a freshly lit candle, and you immediately regretted choosing to be dared. "I dare you to make out with Joe."
A gear turned in your brain, your heartstrings were tugged and your jaw slackened. With a newfound sense of embarrassment, all confidence was drained from your system as your cheeks burned a bright roseate. You probably should've expected this, but facing the intrigued, excited and teasing expressions of your friends only worsened your sudden shyness. Nervously tugging on the hem of your cropped hoodie, you silently begged for the floor to swallow you whole, "what—? I...I can't do th—"
Joe stood up. Shakily, mind you, but he stood up nevertheless. You half expected him to be done with the situation altogether and just walk off—no way would he want to face the shame of having to make out with the person he hates more than anything. But the other half of you was more surprised than anything when he bent down, and pressed his lips against yours.
His lips were warmer than you'd expected them to be, especially for someone so cold to you. They were soft, and thin, and moved confidently as if he had planned to do this for a long time. However, you lips remained unmoving and frozen, succumbing to fear even though you knew that any action you did would be reciprocated. Although, you then felt a gentle nibble of your bottom lip, and a breath of warm air as he chuckled, "it's not really making out if only one of us is doing all the work." Your heart thundered in your chest, and with only a slither of reluctance remaining, you finally allowed yourself to let your lips move.
Sparks ignited in your heart like electrical chords, burning fiercely as his large hand cupped your flaming cheek. As your lips continued to mesh together, the awkward coughing of Oli rang in your ears and snapped you out of your trance, being the first to pull away. You'd be lying if you said you thought Joe wasn't disappointed, as his features dropped. Instead of rushing back to his original spot, he squeezed between you and Jack, who grunted a bit when Joe's hip banged against his waist on the way down.
Perhaps it was because everyone was drunk out of their minds, and the fumes of alcoholic exhales didn't exactly help, but the group merely gave a few perplexed blinks and carried on with the game. Despite the end of the heated session, your heart didn't settle, and you could hear it's rapid pulsations resounding in your eardrums like a broken record. For a split second, you felt his hand skim across yours, and you dared to flinch before he snatched your hand in his.
Every mean word you two spat at each-other, every mocking comment, every sour expression and every violent action was wiped clean from your mind as it diminished into two things: confusion and want. In this world, there weren't many things that could take you by surprise. Not a twist in a film, nor a prank from one of your friends; but Joe Sugg could shock you. Out of everything and everybody, your so-called arch-nemesis could make your cheeks burn, heart accelerate and sweat drip in ways you had never associated such things with. Fuck him, the scoundrel, with his shaggy quiff, and crooked smile and minty-fresh breath. Damn it all to Hell.
"[y/n]," he whispered, finding his lips pressed against the rim of your ear. Hearing your name roll of his tongue in a manner that lacked any toxicity was new and dumbfounded you, to say the least. But you weren't opposed to it. You don't think you ever would be. A gulp, a shudder and a shaky exhale ensued before you listened to his next, sultry words with intent. "Come upstairs with me."
Before you could even give a reply, you were whisked away upstairs. You were unaware as to whether people noticed, but at the same time, with your back suddenly against a soft mattress, you didn't care at all. In seconds, his alcoholic breath dusted across your rosy cheeks, warm, large hands snaking across your waist as your shirt hiked up your stomach. His touches were soft and new, and normally you'd recoil at getting anywhere near him, but with his lust-filled eyes hovering above you, you couldn't be more excited.
The room was ominously dark, Joe's hands trailing stars as his fingers grazed smoothly over your stomach. They glided up to the thin material of your bra, and you immediately twitched. No matter how drunk you were, it was easy to remember that Joe had never once seen you vulnerable or naked—not even half-naked, at that. Entirely, this was a brand new experience, and whether you'd regret it or not was a decision for the morning after. But your heart, cheeks and teary eyes couldn't ignore the unbearable feeling of embarrassment. And he noticed.
Immediately, his hands halted. For once in your life, you saw something other than resentment shrouded in Joe's eyes when he looked at you: concern. Now, his blue hues were round, soft and twinkled with perplexity. Removing his hand from your waist, he watched as you sat up and a single, flustered tear trickled along your cheek. You wiped it away as quick as it came, and flashed a smile that had no shine to it whatsoever. Nose turned up, he inched slightly closer, and muttered a rapid string of "hey, hey, hey..." he hushed. "[y/n], what's wrong?"
"I—," you hiccuped, glancing at the floor briefly, and back into his cerulean pools you were certain would whisk you away. "Don't you hate me?"
"Hate you?" He repeated, arching a single brow and then sighing deeply. Clicking his tongue off the roof of his mouth, he murmured, "you're annoying, and loud, and argumentative and really piss me off sometimes," he admitted, watching your features drop once again with a heavy heart, only for a smirk to dance on his lips. "But only sometimes," he added. "Other times, I think you're cute, and funny, and gorgeous, and talented, and I like being around you when I don't want to strangle you."
An adenoidal chuckle vibrated through your throat, and any worry in your heart fizzled out like a wax candle. Before you knew it, your hands were cupped behind Joe's head, cradling his hair and grinning from ear to ear. Now you knew you wouldn't regret it tomorrow morning.
Your neck was attacked by his lips, nipping and sucking on sensitive skin as you squirmed beneath his passionate touches. Your hands, impatient and nervous, shakily reached for the hem of his shirt. Tucking them beneath the fabric, they roamed his stomach: slim and toned as you expected it to be. You relished in the fact that this was an opportunity girls worldwide wanted to have, yet you were the lucky ex-enemy exceptional enough to feel the budding muscles beneath the cover of his milky skin.
Eyelids flickering delicately shut, your fingers inched tentatively towards the flies of his black skinny jeans. Feeling cool metal against your fingertip, a smirk stretched itself across your face as your pulled it down. While tugging his trousers along his legs, you felt one of Joe's hands shift beneath your shirt and cup your boob. A guttural groan vibrated in your throat at the action, as your legs invitingly spread as his hips viciously ground against your own. Tipping your head back, you felt him shift and rid himself of his jeans, only for Joe to shuffle your top above your head and fling it across the room, mimicking the action with his own.
In a matter of seconds, you found him naked, hovering above you with ominous lust shrouding cerulean hues. His hands entangled themselves in your hair, thrusts increasingly becoming faster but sloppier as his grunts grew sexier by the second. Feeling your stomach knot, you screamed in euphoria as the intimate feeling seeping through you knocked you over the edge.
A thin layer of sweat acting as a second skin, Joe exhaustedly panted above you, before swooping down and stealing a surprisingly chaste kiss. Collapsing beside you, you felt his arm envelope you in a hug, which you melted into like chocolate.
Tonight was wild, and confusing, and fun. You weren't sure if either of you knew what just happened, but right now, you didn't think you cared. All you cared about was the warmth of Joe's chest as you slipped into a peaceful respite.
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