first of all thank you guys so much for 10.5k!! that's insane!
warning: intense fucking fluff ahead. also football fans will probably get triggered by this don't say I didn't warn you.
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Through the thin walls that separate our apartments I can hear my neighbour screaming.
No words, no coherent message he's trying to get across. Just him ripping his vocal chords to shreds. I'd be worried if he hadn't already been doing that all afternoon.
Now I'm just annoyed.
I flip the page of my book angrily, trying to block out the sound of his shouts.
About a half hour ago one particular scream was enough for me to dash onto my balcony and peer through his window, only to see him staring at his TV so avidly he looked like he could combust at any moment from the sheer force. On his screen was a football game, and on his table there were about six empty bags of chips thrown and empty beer cans all over his floor.
Half an hour ago I found it amusing how forcefully concentrated on the game he was, but with every scream he utters, the thinner my patience wears. Now even the closed windows and balcony door won't stem the sheer force of his yells.
I throw the book onto the floor and stand up. My wonderfully peaceful afternoon I had planned has been destroyed by a fucking football game. Great.
The fridge door slams into the wall when I throw it open, leaving a mark on the wall, and even though I said I wasn't going to, I grab a can of beer and plunk back down on the couch, kicking my feet up.
He screams again. I don't even know his name, really I should be more concerned. I know he's just watching a game but if he's this into it he may have some problems or something. I mean why isn't he more self conscious about the amount of noise he's making? Is sport really that big of a deal?
Apparently it must be because the next scream is so loud I physically wince. But the silence that follows the scream is even louder. He stops yelling at his TV, he stops tearing his vocal chords. The game must be over.
"Goddamn." I mutter to myself, chuckling with relief that the noise is finally over.
Next door I can hear him stomping around almost as loudly. His front door opens and swiftly slams shut and he stomps down the hallway briefly.
And knocks at my door.
I slam my beer down, pissed off with his antics, and throw the door open.
He seems surprised by my haste. "Oh, hi."
"Hi." I say shortly, waiting for him to say what he wants and leave.
"Sorry to bother you. You may not know but there's a game on right now and my TV just broke halfway through it. I was wondering if I could watch it on yours? I wouldn't ask if it wasn't an emergency and obviously I totally understand if you don't want me to intrude but this is the final game of the season and my team made it and there's only like a half hour left to go so this is the most crucial moment also our team is currently tied two all with fucking Man United so I absolutely cannot abide for them to win and if they're going to I need to see it and I would go to a sports bar but then there'll probably be some sort of fight between the two team's supporters so I don't want to be there to see that. I hope you understand but, like I said, I totally get it if you aren't cool with this and-"
"Okay you can come in just shut the fuck up please." I say, laughing a little at his enthusiasm.
"Thank you so much you're a legend." He grins as I usher him in and lock the door.
"I don't know about that, I just really can't stand hearing football nerds ranting is all." I smirk. "TV's over there, do your thing."
He grabs the remote and flips through the channels. "I wouldn't say nerd..."
"Fanatic?"
"Classy." He snorts. "I'd actually go for just a simple fan."
I grab a beer for him and take a seat beside him with my own. "If you're a simple fan I'd hate to see a fanatic."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
I stare at him. "You do realize how loud your screaming was right? Tell me you're not so thick as to think I didn't hear all that."
His cheeks flush slightly. "Guess I'm thick."
A laugh escapes my lips and he finds the channel; we lapse into silence.
"This game is mind numbingly boring." I comment about five minutes later, one eyebrow raised.
I eye him for his reaction, pleased with what I get. He slowly turns to look at me with a gaping mouth, looking at me like I've just renounced all that is good in this world, which certainly doesn't include football.
"What'd you just say?"
"Your game," I tease with a slight smirk. "It sucks."
"You did not just say that to my face today of all days!" He exclaims.
I sip my beer. "So what if I did?"
And the look on his face says it all.
He knows if he wants to watch his precious little game he's gonna need to deal with me and my antics.
I reach for the remote and pause the TV. "How long has this thing got left? Can I just fast forward it?"
"It has like half an hour left not including the inevitable overtime it'll go into if no one scores." He says, panicking as he takes the remote back from me and putting it back on. "And no you can't fast forward, because it's live!"
"Really? That sucks. Did I mention this game is super boring?"
"Yes, you did." He says, his eyes glued to the screen.
"Hey you should look at me." I grin, deliberately trying to annoy him.
He shakes his head and leans forward even more, his chin resting on his hands.
I turn my attention to the screen, trying to make sense of the game. But all I see is a bunch of full grown men running around and kicking a ball. Why everyone is getting so worked up about it is beyond me.
How to annoy this man though?
Simply, I could just kick him out, that'd be annoying. But that's a bit too mean for my taste. I could also just turn the TV off but that's essentially the same thing. I could continue to pester him but he seems immune to it, basically he's just ignoring me the best he can which is pretty rude but who am I to talk about rude?
What I need to do is distract him in a way he can't ignore. And how does one achieve that?
Well, according to google the best way to achieve that is by tickling him. Which is awkward, and I don't even know if he's ticklish at all. He could be one of those super annoying people that don't feel anything. But who knows?
It's worth a shot.
I jab him in his side playfully with a smirk. "Hey bozo look at me!"
"What the fuck are you doing?" He asks, infuriatingly still staring at the screen.
"Are you ticklish?"
"Like I'd tell you that."
"Well then we'll just have to find out won't we?"
I smirk devilishly, going for his sides again without hesitation. He makes a weird squeal sound and dodges my fingers, jolting to the side until he's lying on his back and squirming to get away from me.
But bless his soul he still stares at the screen and watches the men in matching outfits run never ending laps of the field.
He is at his most vulnerable, which is absolutely perfect for me. I go in for the attack again, laughing at his gasping breaths and occasional screams. He's completely horizontal now, looking up at me with what I can only describe as pure and utter terror.
"So you are ticklish then." I drawl, looking down at him like a cat about to pounce.
My hands are in the air, ready to reach down and continue my attack at any moment.
His eyes flicker to the TV briefly, checking the score, before resting back at me. "What about you?"
"What about me?"
It's his turn to smirk. "Are you?"
"Ticklish?"
"Let's find out."
In a single swift movement we've traded places. Suddenly I'm the vulnerable one laying on my back with him looming over me. He has his hands raised and I instantly tense, knowing damn well I'm one of the most ticklish people to ever live.
"Jesus, that was quick." I raise an eyebrow. "Clearly a top I see."
"You seem comfortable down there." He shoots back confidently. "But not for long."
He's talking about the tickling, but despite that fact my cheeks burn at the comment; a fact he doesn't fail to notice. He pins my arms to the couch and leans down to my ear. I expect him to whisper something dumb but he just chuckles into it giving me shivers.
With one final sweep of his eyes to the TV screen, he begins tickling me, digging his fingers into my sides and ignoring my hands clawing at his arms to get off me. I can't breathe, and I writhe around underneath him whilst squealing at him to stop. I put my hands on his shoulder to push him off me, noticing that underneath his shirt his muscles flex with every movement.
And then he stops, still leaning over my figure, still smirking slightly as I catch my breath. I find myself wrapping my arms around his neck, and although I have no idea what I'm doing, something about it feels so right I don't bother questioning it.
And then he's leaning down again. But not to my ear this time.
Though his face stops inches from mine, his nose bumps into me softly. He looks into my wide eyes almost questioningly, and even though I don't know what he's asking me his eyes are shining so brightly who would I be to say no?
He presses his lips onto mine so softly and so suddenly I'm taken aback. But I don't pull away. The kiss is tantalizing, lasting no more than a split second before he pulls back and asks without words if that was okay. I pull him down towards me wordlessly and connect our lips again, my fingers dancing through his hair lazily. I feel his smile under my own.
Minutes go by; we finally pull away.
"My name is Taron by the way." He smiles.
"Nice to meet you." I positively hum. "I'm Y/N."
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part 2?
:))