“Nah,” Joe said, and when you looked at him, you grew immediately shy. The little smirk and the mischievous eyes threatened trouble. “I can break her...”
CHRIST ALMIGHTY. How dare you write this AND add that cheeky picture of Joe at the header I’m 🫠🫠🫠
I’m obsessed already. I cannot wait to see how this goes… or for the week of good head 😏
took me a second, but we're HERE, at part 2. pls enjoy!
Wordcount: 3.7K
---
Double Or Nothing
part one - part two - part three - part four - part five
The first half of those seven days passed excruciatingly slowly. But they passed, and when you remembered how you thought on that first day that you could pretend you hadn’t pinky-promised each other to get into this stupid bet together... fuck, how big of an idiot were you?
Everything was sort of different now, but also... was it? Was it really?
Had there not always been tension? Flirting that easily got passed off as platonic banter between friends?
Like that one time, months ago, when Joe had walked in on you in an oversized T-shirt, bare thighs on show, as you’d been singing along to Taylor Swift in your living room.
The “What’s going on here? The music? The mood lighting? Got the wine out, Jesus Christ, that’s it, we’re having sex on the sofa tonight!” comment Joe made upon the sight of you had made Izzy laugh until she cried. The fact that Joe only realised that Izzy was even in the room with you after she burst out laughing made the whole ordeal even funnier.
Or, you know, there were those countless other times where Joe would touch you with extremely stupid excuses. Saying shit like, “Wow, no, look at these pockets,” whilst unashamedly grabbing at your ass, or, “Oh this looks nice,” and just letting the back of his hand graze a tit in front of all of your friends.
It had always just been jokes, though. Shit he did with other people around, and you’d all laugh, and then nobody would really think anything of it.
Shit, did they think anything of it?
Surely not. Right?
On the Saturday morning, the night after the bet had been made, you kind of thought that the bet was just another one of those silly things. Something you’d laugh at next week, when people would ask, and Joe would say some goofy shit whilst wiggling his eyebrows.
Because that’s how these things went.
But then the doorbell had gone, and Izzy had let Joe in whilst you’d been scrambling eggs for breakfast. And you’d gone, “hey,” all casual, because you thought maybe he was there for Izzy. But then Izzy said she was going to go for a shower and Joe had joined you in the kitchen in complete silence. Made himself a coffee that he then dumped four sugars into.
He paused and slightly looked up at you to gain your reaction. He’d seen you look, but you attention was back with the eggs that were nearly finished.
“That piss you off?”
“What?”
Joe held up four fingers, and said, “That’s too much sugar, surely,” before using a spoon to annoyingly clink against the cup loudly as he stirred. You just stared at him a second, because what the fuck was Joe even doing there with you in the kitchen? But then the clinking of the spoon went on for far too long, sugar long dissolved, and he just stared right back at you. Challengingly so. Slight smirk playing his lips, and that’s when the penny dropped. Suddenly it clicked. Joe was just there to get under your skin. He’d come over to just to be around you, to prove to you that he was very able to be a massive turn off and that he knew exactly how to give you the ick.
Joe hammered it home when he slurped his first sip, all exaggerated, dragging it for as long as he could. He barely got any coffee into his mouth in the process. And sure, it was annoying, but when you looked and saw those huge eyes stare at you over the cup, it just made you grin.
You turned off the hob and shrugged before commenting, “Four’s fine, I kind of love it sweet.”
1-0 you thought. Especially when you saw him grimace at the cup he was holding. Four was definitely too many.
When Joe sat down with you when you were about to have your breakfast, he used his fingers to steal small bits of egg from your plate.
You looked at him as you chewed.
“No? This not getting you?” Joe tried, and you simply shook your head.
“Sorry, I’m harder to crack I think,”
2-0.
You took another bite, and didn’t push Joe’s hand away as he reached for a little more of your meal. “So, are you just going to be around then... follow me around like a puppy dog, breathing down my neck as I run errands today?” you challenged, and Joe scoffed before he answered, “Try all week.”
“I’ve got work all week.”
“Yea, so have I, but I’ve got to be around if I want to win this bet, don’t I?” Joe smirked, leaning back in his chair, clearly relishing the challenge. “And lucky for you, I don’t have work today, I don’t have work tomorrow, and I’ve had most of my evenings cleared so I can really test these limits,”
Of which there were none, you finished mentally. But sure, Joe was allowed to try and find them. You wouldn’t mind him succeeding actually, because if he didn’t, wasn’t Joe essentially proving to you that you found him irresistibly attractive?
Maybe that’s why Joe was even here in the first place? What an ego boost to learn that nothing about you turned someone off. That you possessed nothing to make someone go, okay ew get out of my house now.
Surely, there had to be something... Joe was just going to have to find it for you, and whilst you silently did your very best to not panic over the fact that Joe seemed to really take this whole bet seriously, you outwardly acted like you weren’t.
You huffed out some laughter and shook your head at Joe’s playful grin as you chewed. The mischievous glint in his eyes didn’t bode well.
“All right, I’ve left everything that needed doing for the weekend, so, get ready,”
“Oh,” Joe frowned and tucked his chin in, “I was born ready.”
Flirty bastard.
And it was unfair, because Joe was cheating. He was cheating left, right and centre. You see, the goal shouldn’t have been to just piss you off. To seek it out. To do shit out of the ordinary, things Joe would never do, things he knew would gross anyone out. Not just you.
You tried telling Izzy that night as you prepared dinner that Joe had stuck around for.
“We’re going to need some more rules, because Joe–” you started, keeping an eye on the potatoes, but Joe interrupted.
“You’re such a sore loser,” Joe accused whilst he washed fresh produce in the sink.
“Have you ever seen Joe wiggle earwax from his ears with his little finger before?”
“Just admit that I gave you the ick and we can start the week of favours on Monday,”
“He never does that, but did it for like five minutes straight in Waitrose,”
“Should’ve seen her squirm,”
“He’s being disgusting just to be disgusting, it’s not fair,”
Izzy tried to follow what the both of you were saying, but you didn’t make it easy, speaking over each other and trying to not let the other get a word in edgeways.
“You really want to actually win this bet?” Joe challenged, referencing the week of oral sex, and just before you were about to openly admit it and yell, “Yes!” you were interrupted by Izzy who shouted, “All right!” over the both of you. You both shut up instantly.
“She’s right,” Izzy said after a short silence. “If you want this to be fair, you’ve got to do things you’d normally do,”
“But–”
“Only then!” Izzy held up a finger, shutting Joe right back up. “Only then will you get your week of favours,” she revealed her prediction of the outcome, to which you obviously took offence.
“Hey!”
“I’m sorry, but, you’ve got a track record that’s not really helping you a tonne, is it?”
And Izzy was right.
Joe let the rest of the night pass without cheating. He did try to suggestively play footsie, and you almost called him out for trying shit he’d normally not do. But, he hid what his foot was doing under the table from Izzy, kept a straight face even when he used his leg to hike your foot onto his lap, making you smirk at him. And, so, yea, maybe he’d have done that anyway, with or without this bet in place.
You didn’t know if you’d have let him continue rubbing a hand up your calf if you weren’t actively trying to prove something to him. But, here you were, accepting the one-handed foot rub whilst Joe ate his meal with the other.
Conversation flowed, mostly between Izzy and Joe, and when you checked your phone for the eighty-fourth time, Izzy tried to reach for it. Tried to snatch it from your hands to see what kept you busy looking at a screen every couple of minutes.
“You back on the apps?”
You evaded her hands and were quick to place your phone face down onto the table, out of her or Joe’s reach.
“I’m always on the apps.” You shrugged, both feet back on the floor and safely tucked under your chair.
“Always on the apps...” Joe repeated you, shaking his head slowly. Then he asked, “Which ones?”
“Hinge, sometimes Happn,” you picked your phone up again, “Rarely Happn, actually. Mostly just Hinge, it feels like people are sort of normal there,”
“Not normal enough to have them stick around,” Izzy quipped, reaching for your plate as she started clearing the table.
“Well,” you let a laugh escape, light and airy, “It’s not like people are going to reveal the worst thing about them on their profile, are they?”
Izzy let out a heartly laugh on her way to the kitchen. “Worst thing about them? Like the way they look when their tongue searches for the straw in their drink?”
Ouch. Yea, Jasper did that. But he did that for every sip of every drink for every date you had been on. You had tried to ignore it, had secretly wished for him to stop getting drinks that came with fucking straws in, but alas. He didn’t. And then you couldn’t stop staring at it until you were physically repulsed by the man.
“Should get you on Raya,” Joe said, collecting all the empty glasses and grouping them together by the side of the table.
“Please don’t.”
“Why not?”
“Are you being serious? Dating apps are already pretentious enough as they are without having to fucking be invited for them,”
You could only imagine how flashy and haughty everyone was on there. You knew that included Joe, but he didn’t seem to take offence. He very rarely did when you said shit like that, actually.
“Well, let me know when you change your mind.”
When Joe left after dinner, Izzy found the toilet roll had changed position from over to under and grumpily scolded you. Said to not get her involved in this stupid bet. You said she was the one that came up with it, so, “Tough.”
On Sunday you visited your dad and completely avoided Joe. On Monday, you tried to do the same, even when you got a few texts. That’s why, on Tuesday, you saw Joe walk into the office when you were in the middle of a meeting. You were quick to excuse yourself.
You rushed over as discretely as you could and hissed, “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Hey,” was all Joe said, “Let’s go for lunch somewhere,”
“Lunch?” you exclaimed like it was the wildest shit you’d ever heard. “It’s... it’s,” you checked the time only to realise it actually was very close to lunch time. You were so prepared to tell him it was far too early for lunch, but alas. It wasn’t.
You took a deep breath, nostrils flared. “You couldn’t have texted?”
Joe just stood there, feet planted into the carpet like a tree, smiling. He wasn’t going anywhere, and you fucking knew it.
“All right, I’ve got about 15, maybe 20 minutes before I can leave,” you said, and when Joe moved towards a sitting area off to the side, you grabbed him by the arm and pointed towards the lifts.
“You’re waiting outside,”
“Would I normally wait outside?” Joe played, because sure, he’d never come over to your actual office to take you out for lunch, but plenty of friends had and you never made them wait outside, did you?
“Absolutely,” you lied, and Joe saw right through it. Grinned, raised both eyebrows and asked, “You sure?”
“Yes,” you hissed, glancing behind you to see some of your colleagues ogling. Ugh. You knew a celebrity in the office was going to be the topic of conversation for weeks. Maybe that was it. Maybe that was the ick.
“All right, all right,” Joe held up both hands and laughed, “I’ll wait downstairs,”
And just before you were to open the door to get back into your meeting, Joe called, “Hey,” halting you.
“This get you?”
You couldn’t help the small smile that revealed itself on your face as you thought a second. “Depends on where we’re going,” you answered.
“Scarlett Green.”
“Stop it.” You pointed a threatening finger. You fucking loved Scarlett Green. Your grin grew wider before you tried your best to hide it. “Go,” you waved a hand to shoo Joe, making him laugh before turning on his heel.
At lunch, Joe reminded you of the last time the two of you were at Scarlett Green. It was a group outing on a random Sunday and you’d gone for brunch. Bottomless brunch. You and Izzy had both gotten so drunk on mimosas, you had to be escorted home to make sure you’d get there in one piece.
It would’ve been embarrassing, but you didn’t remember half of that day.
“Trying to make me feel bad for having a good time?”
“Is it working?”
You started noticing how often Joe would give you this... this face. Eyes narrowed and challenging, but lips pursed into a little smile, head tilted down a little – like a sexier adult version of a naughty little schoolboy. It was flirtatious, but, you’d seen Joe flirt before. This was different. This wasn’t giggly touches and sultry soft-spoken compliments. This was teasing and mocking and poking fun until it made you want to dig your nails into your forearms.
You were kind of into it.
“Okay,” Joe clapped his hands together after you got your orders taken. “Worst red flag ever, go,”
“I can’t,” you let out a huff of air. Not quite a laugh, but slightly amused still, and continued, “This is a lot of focus on my romantic life, I can’t really... I don’t want to,”
“Well,” Joe cocked his head and straightened a fork. “Kind of have to,” he said, voice all jokingly constricted, and before he had even finished the sentence, you’d already decided to play along.
“Gold front tooth.”
“Gold front tooth?!”
“None of his pictures showed him smiling with his teeth showing, and then we had a lovely conversation, decided to go for a date,” you shuffled in your seat as Joe leant forward, resting his head on his palm, listening, really tuning in. “And then when we met, we hugged and he’d just given me that, you do this too, that polite white man smile–”
“I’m sorry, I what?”
“This British awkward tight lipped stupid smile,” you continued, completely ignoring the wild confusion displayed on Joe’s face. “And he looked nice! Really quite handsome actually, and then...”
You pressed your lips together in an expression not far off this stupid smile you’d just mentioned Joe does all the time.
“And then he said hi and one of his two front teeth was gold. Gold, Joe.” you sounded pained, like it was the most heartbreaking thing you'd ever experienced.
It got a good laugh out of Joe.
“Kept looking down my top too, so, you know...” even if he'd had normal coloured human teeth, you still probably wouldn't have gone on a second date with him.
The mention of your tits made Joe's eyes flick down for just a second. You saw, but pretended you didn't.
“Your turn. Biggest red flag you've ever experienced in someone.”
“Hmm...” you saw Joe's tongue work inside his cheek as he peered up towards he ceiling. Shuffling a little in his seat, you liked how the attention had now fully shifted onto him.
But then he said, “Wanting to meet my parents,” and he looked at you, chin tilted forward like he was trying to sell you that his answer wasn't a joke. Joe was an actor, but Jesus he was bad at trying to hide a giggle when you knew there was one waiting to escape his throat.
“Joe...” you challenged, but his facial expression didn't falter. Yet. “After dating her for how long?”
“I don't know, like maybe, four... five months?”
When you started laughing, so did he, and my God, he was being so stupid. Joe was your stupid friend! Just a stupid guy. One with commitment issues, so it seemed. One who used said issues to make you laugh.
Stupid.
You really had to convince yourself that whatever that feeling was that you felt deep within your lower stomach was just... cramps, or whatever.
Joe was stupid. So stupid.
He proved that to you once more when, after not hearing from him all throughout the next Wednesday, he showed up at your flat just before you were about to go to bed.
“Bit late to come annoy me,” you said through a yawn when Joe stepped into your hallway. He was carrying a backpack.
“Yea, it's 'cause I'm staying over for the night,”
You heard Izzy laugh from the bathroom where she was brushing her teeth. She appeared in the doorway in her pajamas and looked insanely amused by this prospect.
“You sharing her bed?” she said, barely audible because of the toothbrush and paste.
Joe, already toeing his shoes off, just said, “Yep.”
And you looked from Izzy to Joe, back to Izzy who smiled and nearly dribbled toothpaste all down her front and fuck off, you were too tired to deal with Joe's shit.
Half the time you didn't even fully believe either of you were taking this bet seriously.
Were you? Maybe kind of. But also, not really.
Was Joe? Well he was clearly pretending he was. Why else was he here, at your flat, at half past eleven on a week night?
“Please be a naked sleeper,” Izzy made herself laugh and this time, fully did dribble toothpaste all down her front. It made Joe laugh and made Izzy disappear back into the bathroom.
“Unfortunately,” Joe started, speaking loud enough for Izzy to hear, but then lowering his voice and saying, “Fortunately for you,” before continuing in his louder voice again, “I do not.”
Thank fuck.
Learning that Brian slept naked and refused to even wear underwear to bed had been the thing that made you break it off with him.
Joe did wear underwear to bed, however. So, that was good.
“Left side's my side of the bed,” Joe said as he walked past you, his face way too close to yours and fucking hell, he was going to mess with your sleep, wasn't he? Was going to make sure that you couldn't get enough hours in which would leave you grumpy and tired and then that was going to be it, wasn't it?
“This bet is so stupid,” you said to Izzy, all sorts of defeated, as she walked past right after, on her way to her bedroom.
“Good luck,” she just said, seemingly delighted by your pain, and patted you on the shoulder before she disappeared into her room.
When you got into bed, Joe was already in there. On your side of it. And fine. He could sleep on your side of the bed if that meant you weren't going to bicker and you could actually fall asleep within ten minutes.
But Joe saw you face, laughed to himself with his head pushed all the way back into your pillow and then moved. Held up the duvet to move himself across the bed. Gave you your spot back and then patted the spot where he'd laid before, welcoming you into your own bed.
“That nearly got you?”
You rolled your eyes in answer, because Joe was being stupid. You slapped the light switch and quickly got comfortable in your bed. Pretended this was super normal. Just another night in your bed. Alarm set. Work in the morning. Head pressed into your pillow and back turned to Joe, because that was just safest, wasn't it?
Behind you, there was a lot of movement until finally, Joe stilled. He asked for another pillow to hug.
“There's like six pillows in this bed, you're lying on three of them,” you turned and pulled at one under his head.
Joe chuckled softly, removed a pillow and tucked it into his arms. All comfortable in your bed. Not weird at all. Good thing you were exhausted and quite literally about to fall asleep any second.
“So,” Joe softly spoke into the darkness. “I move around a lot, I might end up kicking you in the shins, I snore, and sometimes I talk in my sleep. You've got to tell me in the morning which one of those did it.”
You let out a tired chuckle, confident you'd sleep through any and all of those things.
“Good night, Joe.”
Joe heard the smile. Knew exactly what your face looked like as you said that and couldn't help the smile that spread onto his own face.
“Night.”
---
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