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luninosity · 3 years

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Catching up on @evanstanweek ficlets again! Here’s Day 3, prompt: on set.

Read at AO3 here - 2,336 words of on-set love confessions, set during The First Avenger - or read on tumblr below!

Sebastian’s watching Chris. He often is, can’t seem to help the track of his gaze—can’t pull away from the magnet-tug that’s Chris Evans’ loud laugh and gesturing hands and philosopher’s eyes, and if he’s honest he doesn’t want to. Right now the low hazy grey lighting of the broken bar sits on Chris’s shoulders and turns him into a grieving supersoldier: a man hollowed out by loss, left with a gaping hole right through his chest.

Chris is so good. So brilliant at emotion, at getting character. So thoughtful and so generous with his feelings, the kind of bravery that holds nothing back. He is Steve Rogers, through and through: a hero, shining blue and gold.

Sebastian’s not that brave. Not that brilliant. Good at angst and pain, or dry humor, or intensity, maybe; but he’s in character for it. He does love people and stories, and he thinks he’s funny, sometimes, and he thinks he might want to be a writer, sometimes, and he can shove an entire pizza slice in his mouth when he’s comfortable around friends, but.

It takes him a while. Exhaling. Stepping out. Speaking up. He wouldn’t say he’s shy, because he isn’t, not once he knows people. He’s just…not Chris Evans, who wears joys and vulnerabilities openly, with pride, unafraid.

Sebastian looks at Chris, and aches with emotion, and says nothing, every day and every minute on this film so far.

He’s technically done for the day, though he’s not at all done on this film; he’s spent the morning running around with Howling Commandos and being a young and terrified sergeant thrown into war. They’d filmed Bucky’s fall from the train the day before; Sebastian had honestly loved it. The emotion’d been easy: love and loyalty, throwing himself in to fight alongside the other half of his heart, the moment of sheer shock, a small but gloriously physical drop onto thick mats. They’d let him do that one, because it wasn’t a long fall and they needed to see his face. He hoped it’d been good; everyone seemed pleased, at least.

He shifts weight, wishes he had a pillar or a wall to lean on. He watches Chris some more.

They’d caught the stunned disbelief on Chris’s—Steve’s—face at the fall, yesterday. Chris is so incredible at nuance, at blazing emotions, even in a few-seconds-long shot. Sebastian had said, after, “That felt really good, that last take?” and had meant, I think you’re a genius, I think I want to work right next to you forever, I think I love you.

Chris had gotten kind of pink-cheeked because Chris is too damn self-deprecating, and had said, “Oh—um, thanks, man, you too, I mean it felt good to me too, I mean we’re fuckin’ awesome, obviously,” and had nudged Sebastian’s shoulder, somewhere between a punch and a quick resting of a hand. “Craft services? They got blueberry bagels, someone said.”

Chris, bagel-focused, clearly had not heard Sebastian’s internal monologue. And if he had, wouldn’t reciprocate.

Which is fine, of course. Chris never needs to know, and Sebastian’s ridiculous emotions will calm the hell down and go away. Any day now. Sometime. Soon.

But he’s watching Chris, and Chris is pretending to try to get drunk, pain visibly shredding him inside; Chris is Steve and Steve can’t believe it and has to believe it and wants to scream, to shout, to punch a hole through the world—

The scene’s fantastic, of course.

They get it in maybe three takes, rapid-fire, Chris laying out his heart for the watchers. His voice cracks; it’s getting rougher, the third time.

They do it a couple times more for different close-ups. Sebastian takes a step closer, between takes. His boots—he’s changed; they’re his own boots—are louder than he’d recalled that morning; Chris looks over at the sound.

And maybe Chris looks surprised, or relieved, or grateful, for a split second; maybe it’s all in Sebastian’s head, though, because the next second they’re right back into it, capturing Steve’s heartbreak.

It’s a wrap for the scene, eventually. And Chris is done for a few hours too, though he’ll need to stick around; he’s got some close-ups to do inside a mock airplane, being bounced around, for what’ll be the big final self-sacrifice. Sebastian loves the heroism and pain of it; he’s always loved good writing, and he’s got a good feeling about this script and about this universe, which he’s a tiny part of now.

Chris doesn’t get up right away. Just scrubs both hands over his face, shoulders slumped. Hayley Atwell’s gone off to talk to the director; Joe’s nodding, listening to her. Nobody’s checking on Chris.

And that’s wrong, that’s wrong and not good and not right—Chris has just been hurting, the way that Chris hurts for the world, and Chris should never be hurting, not while Sebastian’s alive—

Sebastian’s legs move before his brain makes a conscious decision. He’s picking his way across artistic rubble and taking a few running steps and putting a hand on Chris’s shoulder. “Hey.”

Chris actually jumps a little, which isn’t the best start. “Oh! Uh, hey, hi, did you, um…have a question? About Steve and Bucky, or somethin’?” The Boston comes out extra-strong; it does that when Chris is feeling a lot, or tipsy, or simply exaggerating to make someone laugh.

“No,” Sebastian says. “Or, well, yeah, we might want to talk about some of those flashback sequences, so we’re on the same page with emotion and all, but.” He licks his lips, realizes he’s doing it—a nervous habit, one he’s had for years—and stops. He can taste chapstick on his tongue. “I just. Wanted to. I don’t know. Are you…I mean, that looked like a lot.”

“You…” Chris trails off. He’s looking at Sebastian’s face with astonishing intent; Sebastian would say even desperation, but that’d be ludicrous. Chris doesn’t have any reason to feel desperate about him.

He tries, “I know you, um, like tea? Not coffee? We could go grab, um, tea. If you want.”

“Tea,” Chris says, a little blankly. “But you like coffee.”

Sebastian’s starting to get kind of worried, here. “I do, but you gave it up? We could maybe head back to your trailer, and you can, um, relax for a minute, and I can…try to make tea?”

Chris stares at him some more.

“Or not,” Sebastian throws in helplessly.

“Yes,” Chris says. “Yes, yeah, yes—you—fuck. Okay. Jesus, Chris, get it together,” and he even shakes his head like a puppy flinging off water, and Sebastian kind of wants to grin and also scratch his tummy.

Well. Maybe not scratch. He can think of better things to do with Chris’s stomach. Mostly involving his tongue.

And he should absolutely not be thinking of that when Chris needs his help. He sticks out a hand. “To the end of the line? Or at least your trailer.”

Chris looks at the hand, and then takes it, hauling himself up out of the chair. His fingers are large and strong and a little cold, and they squeeze Sebastian’s for just a little too long, as if wanting to hold on.

No. Must be Sebastian’s heart thinking that. Wanting what he can’t have.

He walks with Chris through behind-the-scenes set-ups and teardowns, props and people rushing to and fro, the corners of trailers and the shouts of movie-making going on. The sun’s warm, if light; the ground’s hard beneath his boots. He keeps stealing glances at Chris, who doesn’t seem too talkative. Sebastian’s poor overworked heart wants to take each sensation, each sight and taste and scent of this backstage moment, and fold them up safe deep inside.

Chris is letting him help. That feels like sunshine.

Chris’s trailer’s simple, unpretentious, unfussy; script copies and notes lie scattered around, and he’s got some weights, and some Disney-movie DVDs. Sebastian smiles, because that’s so very Chris: delight in the magic, always.

Chris, still in costume, sits down on his sofa. He breathes out, and looks up. “Thanks.”

“For what? How do I make tea with this?” He’s poking Chris’s electric kettle. He does sort of know how it works, in theory. His mother has an old-fashioned kettle; he’s got fancy coffee-making machinery; he should be able to combine all this knowledge. “Where is your tea?”

“Seb,” Chris says. “I—hang on, does anyone actually call you Seb?”

“Um. Not really? You can. I don’t mind.” He doesn’t. Chris uses last names often, an affectionate Boston-bro shorthand for friendship; Sebastian’s somehow always been Sebastian or Seb, in Chris’s voice. He’s wondered why, though he’s thought maybe Chris just doesn’t feel that close to him. Not deserving of the bro-status.

“You don’t mind, or you don’t like it, and you’re being nice about it?”

“I don’t mind,” Sebastian says, too quickly. “I like it.”

“Sebastian,” Chris says.

“Really,” Sebastian says. “Either. Whatever.”

“Jesus,” Chris says, face back in his hands. “I’m sorry. I just…just tell me if I’m sayin’ something stupid, okay? Please.”

“But you’re not!” Sebastian comes back over to the couch. That damn magnet again. Tugging his bones. “You’re not, it’s fine, we’re good, Chris. I swear. Really.”

Chris doesn’t look up, so Sebastian drops to both knees, right there at Chris’s feet, and tries not to think of all the times he’s wanted to do exactly that. It’s easier not to think of it, right now, because he’s genuinely concerned.

He peeks up at Chris’s face. “Hey. Kinda worried here. Not about you, I mean, about your kettle, it’s got all these buttons, it’s like a rocket ship, I’m afraid if I touch the wrong thing it’ll explode.”

Chris snorts, almost a laugh, and then does look up. His eyes go right to Sebastian’s, so close and so blue; and then all at once he’s moving, leaning forward, one hand reaching out and cradling Sebastian’s head, and then—

They’re kissing. Oh, god, they’re kissing, Sebastian on his knees in front of Chris and Chris bending down to claim him, hand in Sebastian’s hair—

Chris kisses like reprieve, like the release of storms, like the dive into a heated pool on a chilly day: wholehearted, devoted, anxious to lick and taste and plunge into every part of Sebastian’s mouth. Sebastian, who’s been kissed before, has in fact never been kissed before, because no other kiss has ever been a kiss, compared to this.

His knees dimly register the hardness of the trailer floor, and his neck’s at kind of an awkward angle, and Chris is still mostly in the Captain America suit. None of that matters. Nothing else matters at all, because Chris wants him and Sebastian’s whole self yearns for Chris, and Chris’s tongue and taste and tug at Sebastian’s hair are all white-hot gloriously perfect.

Chris pulls back almost as abruptly. They’re both breathless; Chris whispers, “Oh, fuck…” and takes his hand out of Sebastian’s hair, but then touches Sebastian’s cheek, cups his face, as if unable to stop touching. “I…fuck…I didn’t…I’m so fucking sorry, I just…”

“Why?”

“What?”

“Why’re you sorry?” Sebastian tips his head into Chris’s hand. “I’m not.”

“You’re…not.”

“Chris,” Sebastian says, and then runs out of words. He hopes Chris can see it, can read it, in his eyes. On his face. “Yes.”

“Yeah?” Chris reaches out with the other hand too: framing Sebastian’s face now, tender and awestruck. “You mean that.”

“I mean it,” Sebastian says. “But—”

“Oh god,” Chris says, “I’ve fucked this up, haven’t I—”

“No! No, just…are you okay? I mean, from earlier.” Somewhere amid the kissing his hands’ve ended up on Chris’s thighs; apparently they just want to be there, and now rub along Chris’s legs, soothing and caressing and learning all at once. “I mean, I wanted to—”

“To help,” Chris groans. “You came over to help—because you’re the sweetest fucking person I know, god, you’re perfect, Seb, the nicest and the warmest and the best—and I fucking, Jesus, practically mauled you—”

Sebastian cuts that anguished recrimination off by diving forward and getting his mouth back on Chris’s. After some in-depth affirmation, he breathes against Chris’s lips, “Don’t think you’re doing any mauling I don’t like.”

Chris’s eyebrows go up.

“Really,” Sebastian tells him.

“Huh,” Chris says. “Huh. Okay. You—okay.”

“No,” Sebastian says patiently. “Are you okay?”

Chris stares at him, and then bursts out laughing. Mid-laughter, scoops Sebastian off the floor. Flops them both down across the sofa, holding on. “God, you’re incredible.”

“The best, you said.”

“And I mean it. You just make it all…feel better, kind of?” Chris strokes a hand down Sebastian’s back, over his t-shirt. “That’s what it was, earlier. Like…being Steve, losing Bucky, but that’s you, and all at once I was thinking about losing you, and I just felt like…like someone’d dropped me off a train, y’know? Like I’d never get up again.”

“I’m here.” Sebastian wriggles against him. They fit together: bodies pressed close, every piece of them learning each other. He’s half atop Chris, but with one of Chris’s legs tangled through his. “I’m here.”

“I know.” Chris rubs his back again. “And you were there, too. You were right there and I could look up and find you, and it was like I could remember how to breathe. And then you were here, asking about tea and looking at me like—and I just had to kiss you. I want to kiss you. Seb. Sebastian. God, I fuckin’ want—everything. I know it might get complicated, I know we’re in the middle of making a movie, but I can’t not want everything. Together. With you.”

“Well,” Sebastian says, “good to know,” and stretches to kiss Chris again. It’s that simple, if not easy: the future’ll change, but it does that anyway, sprawling out in all sorts of directions. And he thinks it’ll be a good direction, with Chris at his side. “Because I want everything with you too.”

#evanstan #evanstan week #evanstan week 2021 #my fic #chris evans #sebastian stan #such fluff #love confessions

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foslad · 7 years

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Almost Too Good (A Chris Evans Story): Part 16

A/N: Back with a slow burning long chapterrrr. But hopefully the little flame at the end is enough to make up for HOW LONG IT’S BEEN! I’m so grateful to each and everyone of you that continue to be here and read this story! It doesn’t go unnoticed!! Love love love!

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The morning after my little “shower date” with Chris, I predictably woke up with a little pep in my step. The feeling of his hands breezing across my wet skin had stayed with me long into my dreams and I felt a certain contentment as I got ready for work the next day.

It was set to be a long day but it was made decidedly better when, soon after I arrived at the studio, Chris texted and offered to stop by during my lunch break.

“I have a takeout sandwich place in mind with your name on it Warner.”

As my makeup was being applied for the day, I felt my heart swell a little at the idea of him making room for me. I was well aware his trip to LA wasn’t an intentional stop just to see me; he had other things to do besides.

As the day wore on, I’d catch myself between takes sending him little texts here and there. I just couldn’t help myself.

Given the fact I only had roughly around an hour for lunch, my trailer was deemed the most appropriate meeting point.

When I finished up my scene a touch early, I excitedly rushed back to my little refuge to tidy up and make sure everything was presentable for when my visitor got here. I phoned down to the gate of the studio to let them know I was expecting someone and then set about fluffing the pillows for the millionth time.

When the inevitable *knock, knock, knock* came, my body flew into a slurry of hair swoops, deep breaths and butterflies.

How? How, after all this time, was he still eliciting this kind of reaction from me!?

As we sat there, indulging in both our meals and each other’s company, I had decided a few minutes ago that now was as good a time as any to fill him in on Amy’s absence.

‘You’re kidding? Both arms!?’ His mouth fell open as he stared at me in horror.

‘I wish! Two clean breaks.’ I shuddered at the very thought of it all. ‘The doctor said he was lucky to even be alive because the impact had been so hard. If I remember what Amy’s mom said correctly, the driver actually turned himself in because he was convinced he’d killed him.’

‘Jesus, that’s awful!’ Chris recoiled. ‘Your assistant must’ve been devastated.’ He paused and thought about it for a second. ‘Or, relieved I guess...’

‘Mostly relieved. They’ve been together eight years now, I think she would’ve reached the point of no return if she’d lost him.’

‘Well it was nice of you to give her the time off.’ He commented as he ducked down to let Dodger off his leash to go and inspect the room. It wasn’t a giant trailer, just enough for a vanity, seating area with a table (that Chris and I were now sat opposite each other on), a railing for my wardrobe choices for that day and then a small bathroom. However, it was enough by means of exploration to the pup and he happily set off to wander the unfamiliar territory.

‘Are you kidding me? Amy’s practically family, I’d do anything for her!’ I took another bite of the delicious sandwich Chris had brought me and hummed in approval.

‘Are you struggling?’ He asked as a he took a sip of his water. ‘Without her?’

‘A little.’ I admitted with a small shrug. ‘I have work until five, which in Ben terms means eight, and then I have to run through my questions for this upcoming Vogue project I’m doing. So that means my weekend will most likely be spent catching up on bits like getting my dry cleaning, going to my PO box, grocery shopping - the boring things that Amy would normally do I guess. I think I have a promotional interview for Gucci on Saturday but I’m not a hundred percent, so I’ll have to double check that…’

Talking about my daily tasks was enough to bore Dodger, who had found a spot under my vanity table to curl up and nap in, never mind the actual humans in the room.

��Anyways, enough about me and my pretentious needs.’ I set my sandwich down and waved my hands in the air, as if that would help get rid of the lame atmosphere I’d created. ‘How have you been? I feel like we didn’t get a chance to talk properly yesterday.’

Shifting in his chair, Chris seemed uncomfortable to have had the baton passed to him and he simply reached up and fiddled with his baseball cap instead. I could tell he was holding back on something and that, for whatever reason, my to-do list had affected him in a way I couldn’t read. I reached across and gave him a little nudge with my knee to bring him back down to reality.

‘You okay?’

‘Oh yeah, I’m fine. Alllll good.’

I raised my eyebrow at him, unconvinced.

He couldn’t avoid my gaze forever and eventually he heaved a sigh as he calculated what to say.

‘Look, Adrian,’ he started eventually, ‘I’ve been thinking about it all morning and I just wanted to say that... I’m sorry about last night.’

I creased my forehead in confusion, ‘What? Why?’ I certainly wasn’t sorry about it…

‘Well for starters, I told you’d I’d give you some space to think things through, and last night I disregarded that promise, to say the least.’

I let a silence fall over us as I soaked in his words. No, no, no, this wasn’t how this conversation was supposed to pan out!

‘And I feel like I crossed a line. We said we’d feel things out as friends first for a while, you know? Now isn’t exactly ideal timing for either of us, clearly.’

‘Are you saying you regret it?’ I folded my arms, unable to hide my unimpressed stance at his sudden change of heart.

‘No.’ He answered without missing a beat. ‘I’m not saying that at all.’ He paused before asking, hesitantly. ‘Why, do you?’

‘No?’ Despite my matching answer, I was suddenly left feeling a little exposed by his one step forward, two steps back approach. I mean technically yes, it wasn’t ideal in terms of the fact we were based in different states at the moment but what’s new about that? It’s how it’s always been!

He nodded his head at my reply before turning away and picking up his sandwich, taking another bite.

Uhhhhh, this conversation isn’t over?

My eyes bore into him as I waited for him to say something that would make me feel a little better about the situation than I did right now. Surely, he couldn’t say something like that and then just leave the topic up in the air like this?

When a minute or so had passed, I felt like a deflated beach ball ready to pop. As I opened my mouth fully ready to protest his hot and cold behavior, I found myself stopped in my tracks at the sound of a knock on my trailer door. The firm strikes provoked a once peaceful Dodger to start barking.

‘Come in.’ I called, despite not taking my eyes off of a somewhat guilty looking Chris.

‘Hey hey, only me.’ Ben’s friendly voice resounded and I found myself slapping on a fake smile as he came into view.

Although Ben seemed initially bewildered to see him, I continued to sit on the couch as I watched he and Chris greet one another. Unbeknownst to me, they were apparently long-time-no-see kinda pals.

I wasn’t even aware they knew each other? Must be a Boston thing.

After a brief man hug, I inwardly cringed as Ben eyed us back and forth.

‘I didn’t know you two.. knew each other?’ His tone was anything but subtle.

‘I could say the same for you.’ I piped up, ‘What’s up?’

I was desperately willing the conversation away from the obvious question of why Chris Evans was in my trailer. Considering I wasn’t best pleased with Mr Evans at this present moment, I didn’t feel like divulging what we were exactly because embarrassingly, right now I had no clue as to the actual answer to that.

‘I’m in a fuck it mood. Mona’s stuck in Atlanta, the power in the studio keeps cutting out because of some sort of damage from last night’s rain, Ryan’s called in sick and since he was in most of the shots I wanted to get done, I’ve decided I’m just gonna cancel shooting for the rest of today.’

‘Really?’ I asked, wholly surprised. ‘You don’t wanna run something else?’

‘Honestly, I’m so fucking stressed right now, I think we could all use having the rest of the day off.’ He declared boldly. I nodded in sympathy, well aware of the “over-budget” issues we’d been having on top of everything else.

After seeing that I was okay with the cancellation, Ben’s eyes then went back to Chris. ‘Hey, uh, you still living over in Hollywood?’

Shaking his head, Chis replied kindly. ‘Nah, I’m a Los Feliz man now.’

‘Sweet. Listen, if you got time, you wanna grab a drink later?’ Ben asked. His voice cracked in an almost pleading note. In fairness, my heart broke for him really. Not only was the film tipping over budget, he was also going through a hard time in his personal life and clearly little things like a drink with a familiar face gave him a lot of pleasure these days.

‘Uhh..’ Chris folded his arms as he “mulled” over his reply. I felt a slight hint of satisfaction when I caught his eyes quickly flutter over to meet my own as a means of deducing how pissed I would be if he ditched me to go drinking with my boss. Unsurprisingly, the answer was very.

Not one to miss a beat, I admired Ben for quickly noting Chris’ reluctance and the sudden tension it was causing between us. With a quick cough, he inquired ‘You’re coming too, right Adrian?’

Once again, a pair of blue eyes flew over to my direction.

Well, if Mr Friendship wants to play, then two could play the game.

‘Sure.’ I replied nonchalantly. ‘I could do with a drink.’

‘So, uh, where were you thinking?’ Chris asked, clearly a little taken aback that I’d been the one to accept Ben’s offer.

‘My buddies got this bar over on Vine Street, Roamers.’ He reached into his pocket and conferred with Chris whether he still had the correct number for him. ‘I’ll drop you guys the address and catch you later then. 9ish?’ His eyes flung from Chris’ then over to mine and back.

‘Great.’ I smiled wide at them both.

Let’s the games begin.

We had parted ways at the studio to allow time to get changed into appropriate attire and have some dinner with the promise of meeting at the bar at around nine-ish. I had never been before nor did I know where the place was, so when both Chris and Ben offered me a ride with them, I happily accepted the Affleck option whilst throwing a smug smile Chris’ way.

I rifled through the rack wardrobe that was built into my rented apartment’s wall and sighed in confusion. What even was that earlier? Last night had been so… incredible in my eyes. The way we just threw all inhibitions out of the window just to be close to one another again. The fact that I, ME OF ALL PEOPLE, was willing to be so intimate with a guy was shocking. I mean, we hadn’t gone beyond kissing and a bit of heavy petting, but that was a big deal in my books!

And now it was back to the friendship circle!?

Fuck. That.

I had pushed passed it a couple of times, but the leather Givenchy skirt I had received as PR mail about a week ago was practically screaming at me to be worn. Partnered with a loose black vest that I could tuck in at the front and a pair of my trusty Loubs’, I was happy that it wasn’t too flashy but at the same time, I silently hoped it was just enough to tease a “friendship” into action.

With a good few hours to spare before Ben and his driver were due to collect me, I felt like I needed some reassurance from an outside perspective. I realized I hadn’t spoken to Amanda in what felt like forever and so, as I took my outfit over to the bed to inspect it, I decided to give her a buzz.

‘HEY BABY! I HAVE YOU ON LOADSPEAKER A SEC, I’M JUST WAXING MY LEGS.’

It made me snicker how those words didn’t even seem that absurd coming from Amanda.

‘Big plans tonight?’

‘It’s my boss Richard’s birthday and he’s invited all of the staff to this fancy soiree over at The Ivy.’

‘Is that the place my parents went for their anniversary last year?’ I asked as I wandered towards the kitchen and opened the fridge. Grabbing two water bottles then shutting the door with my hip and wandering over to the coach, I placed one in my gym bag for the workout I was about to do and unscrewed the other.

‘Yep.’ She replied before she let out a few curse words in response to what I imagine was the rip off of a wax strip.

‘Mandy, if I ask you a question, do you promise not to judge me?’ I inquired hesitantly.

‘Adrian, who do you think I am?’ Her voice grew closer until I could tell I was no longer on loudspeaker. ‘Let me just pour myself another pre-drink and you can fire away.’

‘You’re pre-drinking.. by yourself? At 4:00 in the afternoon?’

‘Uhhh, have you seen the prices of drinks at this place!? No thank you! Besides, I might be on a budget but I need my buzz to be able to socialize with these people in my free time!’

‘Fair point, no judgment.’ I surrendered.

‘Speaking of no judgement,’ I could hear her take a sip, ‘hit me up with ya problem. I ain’t got all night.’ She goaded lightly.

I felt embarrassed to be asking this but I knew I needed to get it out. I took a deep breath and centered myself.

‘Mandy, do you think a person can be… bad… at sex?’

It didn’t take her long to answer.

‘Meh, depends. If we’re talking about a guy here, then yes. If we’re talking about a woman, then, eh, not really, unless you lay there like a dead fish. If we’re talking about you here, then what would even make you think that?’

‘I don’t know. I guess,’ I switched the phone to the other ear and slid myself down onto the carpet and crossed my legs, ‘the whole Alex thing really messed up my confidence in that department, you know?’

‘Oh fuck that Adrian. I’ll die before I let your confidence be dampened by that blob and his side salad. You know, I once stalked interviews with her and she has the personality of a chalk board...’

‘And he’d rather have had sex with her!’ I argued back, taking a swig of my water in minor depression, silently wishing it was as strong as Amanda’s drink.

‘Whatever! Didn’t you tell me you once fell asleep during sex?’ She recalled, much to my total embarrassment. I had confessed it to her the week after I caught him cheating. Sex with Alex wasn’t exactly a highlight for me and my own pleasure wasn’t exactly a highlight for him. I could count on one hand how many times I’d actually finished during the seven years we were together. I had always assumed that sex was just more pleasurable for men in general… Besides, I had been so blindly in love with him for so long, it felt like it didn’t even matter.

‘I’m not gonna lie to you Adrian, I fully believe that affair was a gift from God.’ I rolled my eyes and despite it being a noiseless action, it was like she had heard me. ‘Hear me out! Alex was an asshole disguised as a bleached haven. The very nerve of him to find that pig-nosed sex doll more appealing than you shows exactly how much his mercury levels were off by.’

Oh yeah, Mandy had definitely had a pre or two.

This very conversation had been on replay over the past year with not only Amanda, but everyone from Amy to my Mom to my sisters - all trying their best to convince me that I was better than her. Yet, she was the one he wanted to be with.

I had never been with anyone other than Alex, I wasn’t even sure I was capable of being intimate with anyone else. Until I met Chris, I guess…

‘Why do you ask, anyways?’ Amanda asked after I failed to reply.

‘I want no squealing, no excitement, no anything! Just some listening ears and then maybe a round of advice, okay?’ I warned.

‘No promises, but okay….’

‘I saw Chris last night..’ A hint of an ‘oooo’ could be heard from her side, but I chose to ignore it as I clarified. ‘It was just dinner, it wasn’t meant to be a thing or anything! And then yadayada, something about his dog, we’re suddenly back at his, right? So long story short, he got wet in the rain, I laughed, he got revenge by pushing me into his shower, we kissed, we went to his room, we kissed some more, I got my bra out, we fooled around, he stops us because “he’s too cold” and then he drops me back at mine. All is well. So then cut to today and HE JUST WANTS TO BE FRIENDS AGAIN!?’

I couldn’t hide my frustration at all. ‘Like, am I really that bad at this kind of thing!?’

‘Adrian that’s foolish talk.’

‘WELL, he’s had some pretty hot women in his time! What if it was a test drive and I wasn’t appealing to him or something…’

‘Orrr maybe he doesn’t really wanna be just friends right now but he’s holding back so you won’t freak out again?’

‘Or maybe I’m just a dead fish.’ I whined. ‘I mean, only I could friend zone myself by actually trying to be sexy.’

‘But you ARE sexy, you just also happen to be unbelievably harsh on yourself. WHAT HAPPENED WITH ALEX WASN’T YOUR FAULT! HOW MANY TIMES MUST WE TELL YOU!’

I picked away at the fluff on the carpet sadly.

‘I’ll be honest, because when am I not… you’re clearly still sensitive about all this drama that’s happened in your life and truthfully, you’re not amazing at hiding it. So maybe he just doesn’t wanna rush you…’

I sighed as she spoke, willing with all my might for her to be right.

‘And maybe his dick really was cold.’

Roamers was… unique, to say the least. It wasn’t at all what I was expecting. Through the darkness I could see it was small, overloaded with people and completely doused in the cigarette smoke from out back to the point where breathing was irrelevant. I followed Ben through the crowds of people and saw he was making his way to a spot at the back. I felt a little out of my depth and almost immediately regretted my outfit choice. Judging by the looks I was getting, the combination didn’t exactly look terrible on me and that’s what made me afraid.

It wasn’t long before Ben was stopped by a face that was familiar to him and a conversation was quickly struck up about last Sunday’s football game.

My knees began to bob as I stood beside him like a larry, my eyes aimlessly trawling around to see if I could spot Chris in the crowd. Ben had slyly made his inquires in the car on the way over here if Chris and I were dating (or anything along those lines) and, much to my own discomfort, I told him exactly what we were at this point. Just friends.

As annoyed as I was with the situation, right now I’d give anything to lock eyes with Friendy McFriend-Friend. Instead, I made the mistake of locking eyes with a long haired random who looked a little over-friendly, to be frank. I quickly removed my eyes and brought my attention down to my phone, hoping he wouldn’t come over and try and talk to me or anything.

By means of distraction, and just because I thought it was funny, I set about changing Chris’ name in my phone to just that. Friendy McFriend-Friend.

‘Hey good-lookin.’ My eyes shot up and I inwardly groaned as they were met with the long haired random. Oh God.

‘Want a little pick me up?’ It was then I noticed the blood shot eyes and the bold smile that I knew that meant it was time to go.

‘I’m good, thank you though!’ I replied politely and began to move off in the opposite direction in a rush. I could always just find Ben later.

‘You know where to find me if you change your mind princess!’ He called after me and I could fully feel my dinner wanting to make a reappearance.

The further I made my way into the venue, the more I realized that it wasn’t so much a druggy place as much as it just had a dodgy vibe to it. I really didn’t feel comfortable being alone anymore and I began to contemplate my minuscule knowledge of LA. Was this part of town dodgy?

Eventually, I reached greener pastures. And by greener pastures, I mean the garden area where people looked a lot less hazy and a bit more alive. I began to recognize familiar faces from the crew as I passed and I could feel myself starting to calm down. Clearly we weren’t the only ones Ben had extended the invitation to.

As I stood with a couple of the sound guys, delighted with the company, I decided I couldn’t take it anymore. Where was Chris?

A: Are you still coming?

Friendy McFriend-Friend: Yeah, I won’t be long. Scott is tagging along. Just waiting for him to finish getting ready then we’ll be out the door.

An hour later there was still no sign of Chris, but there had been a few sightings of a couple of Bellini’s . I wasn’t drunk by any means, but my shoulders had finally started to relax at the very least.

Eventually, a surprisingly tipsy Ben bombed over to me and put his arm around my shoulder before bending down sloppily and talking loudly into my ear so he could be heard over the music. ‘I’ll be honest, and I know, don’t hate me, but I got a buddy who I know you’d get along great with...’

Of course.

‘What? Ben, no, no. I appreciate the gesture.. really I do! But I’m just not looking to date anyone right now.’ Obviously a lie but hey-ho, desperate times call for desperate measures.

‘Hey, I can respect that.’ He pulled his hand off of my shoulder to rest it on his heart, as if he were swearing an oath of understanding before leaning back down. ‘Bu’ listen, just do me a favor on this one. You don’t have to go bowling with the guy, or make daisy chains or any bullshit like that. Just talk to him for me, would’ya? I’d really appreciate it A.’

I cocked my brow. A? That was a new one.

He took my hand and stopped us in the middle of a crowd of people and used the hand he was carrying his beer in to point out who he was talking about.

Over on the other side, all alone, glued to his phone, stood a seemingly tall (he was slouched against the garden wall so it was hard to tell), dark haired, olive skinned… good looking guy – with a face as miserable as sin.

‘His names Michael, he does my taxes…’

It was then I looked up at him as though he’d lost the plot. Why would he think I’d want to pick daisy chains with his accountant? My parents had always warned me about being with people that either worked with food or money, they weren’t to be trusted apparently.

‘He’s a nice guy, I promise you. It’ll be real quick, c’mon.’ He signaled for me to follow him as he made his way over. I sighed heavily before swallowing my pride, deeming it not wise to disobey my current boss. I reluctantly followed behind, quickly stealing a shot of tequila off of a passing bartender with a few scattered on a tray. I’d managed to down it and shake off the aftermath by the time Ben had begun the introductions.

‘Get off the phone Mikey, whassa’ matter with you? It’s a party!’ He slapped him on the back in comradery and the money man humoured him with a forced smile as he tried to act like Ben’s pat wasn’t going to leave a bruise.

‘So this is my friend from the movie I was telling you about.’ He announced, with a tone as though he was spelling it out for him that I was a single female that he should interact with – much to my annoyance. I’m right here Ben… literally right here pal! I smiled nonetheless, not wanting to be rude and held my hand out to him.

‘Hi, Adrian, nice to meet you.’ I smiled.

‘Michael.’ He replied, a smile forming on his own face although it was obvious he felt as awkward as I did.

‘I’m gonna go and see if I can hunt down a buddy of mine. I’ll see you kids in a while, alright?’ Ben walked away beaming, as though he’d just done us both the biggest Cavour. I closed my eyes for a brief second, lamenting on how this wasn’t what I had envisioned for my big night out.

Although, they didn’t stay shut for long…

‘I don’t have the heart to tell him I’m gay.’ My head jerked towards Michael. He held a complete blase tone as he watched Ben disappear into the crowd.

I smiled wide and a shocked little laugh escaped. ‘Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting that outcome.’

‘Sorry baby, but if it’s romance you want, you’re barking up the wrong tree.’ He admitted. He stood away from the wall and dug his hands into his jacket pocket, looking for something before pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

‘Honestly, I can’t tell you how happy that makes me to hear you say that. Romance is pretty much the last thing I’m looking for right now.’ I joined him in leaning against the wall as I bit my lip in concern at how easily these lies were spilling out of my mouth.

‘I fucking hate Ben’s “get together’s”. They’re so, manish. It’s like a fraternity up in here. The man’s in his forties for Christ’s sake!’ He remarked as he lit up a cigarette, but not before offering me one. I shook my head no and he shrugged his shoulders. ‘Truth be told, it’s the manish types I like – so I come. There’s no gain without the pain.’

I nodded, aware now that my life had sunk so low as to be the kind of girl you introduce to your closeted gay friend.

‘So what’s your sob story? Why is Ben trying to hook you up with his accountant when you could probably have your pick of any James Dean type?’ He blew smoke out and sized me up, trying to seek out any visible flaws.

‘I was lured here under the false impression of Ben not having many friends to hang out with in LA.’ I explained. ‘And I wanted to see the night life out here, I suppose, and maybe make some new friends. I live in New York.’

‘What do you need to make friends for? I’ve seen your movies, you gotta have people crawling out of the woodwork.’

‘Not the case.’ It was almost laughable how many acquaintances I had and yet zero friendships to show for it. ‘It’s actually kind of the opposite.’

‘You work in the movie business but you don’t know anyone in LA?’

I squinted my eyes, thinking about how to word myself. ‘Well… I know a couple of people, but not ones I’d feel comfortable reaching out to. I mean, there is one guy I guess. Actually, he should be here soon.’ I turned around and stepped up onto my tiptoes to scout if Chris was here yet or not. Jeez, how long did Scott need!?

He nodded knowingly. ‘Is he a squeeze?’

‘He’s a… friend, I guess.’

‘A friend-friend, or a “frriieeennddd”?’ He inquired with a smirk before taking a long drag of his smoke.

‘Kinda… sorta, somewhere in between.’ I replied uncomfortably, turning back around and scouring the room in hopes of now spotting the woman with drinks tray, ‘we were long distance, but it wasn’t anything... too serious. I guess.. I’m not sure.’

‘I don’t have anywhere to be.’ He leaned back against the wall again as though to signal he wanted to hear the details.

And for whatever reason, I decided to tell him.

As the night wore on, and the drinks Michael and I began to consume doubled, I realized two things. One: that I truly had to thank Ben, because I really was gaining a friend in Michael. And two: That very same Ben was a con artist disguised as an actor.

Michael and I had laughed and laughed as we watched the apparently troubled guy bloom into the social butterfly that he really is and hit on about four girl’s half his age with much success.

It was mid laugh that I felt the shivers. Cascading up and down my spine as though the nerve itself knew exactly when it was being watched.

The wires connected for Michael and he raised his eyebrows as he watched me shut my eyes. ‘Which one is he?’

‘Hmm?’ I replied, unwilling to open them.

‘Which one? Is he inside?’ I took a deep breath and slowly turned around.

It was like heat seeking missile, it took all of two seconds for my eyes to find him. Even in my annoyed state, he still caused my breathing to hitch and my heart to beat a little faster.

‘He’s the one wearing the grey t-shirt with the dark blue leather jacket over it.’ I told him whilst alarmingly finding it difficult to take my eyes off of him. From my spot, I could see him at the bar with Josh and a few others, standing there looking a little lost as the others were laughing and talking away. How long had they been here!? I bent down to see if i’d missed any messages and felt a little hurt when saw that there were none.

Eventually, the moment dawned on sweet Michael.

‘Chris Evans!? That’s your “friend”?’ He asked in surprise. ‘Oh baby, I’d be upset too if I were you!’

I finally pulled my eyes away to look at him unimpressed as he gazed over at Chris adoringly.

‘Should I go over there?’ I asked Michael.

He was mid sip but immediately pulled his glass away. ‘Mmm-mm honey, no.’ He wiped his mouth. ‘You make him come to you.’

My heart sagged and the lump in my throat grew as I watched him. I pathetically began to crave Chris’ attention as though he were a soothing cream to some sort of itch.

‘You wanna play a game?’

I looked at Michael funny. ‘What kind of game?’

‘Well… maybe all you need to kick this “friendship” rut in the ass is a little jealousy. Tell me, if he saw you with another guy, would it cause a reaction?’ Part of me didn’t know if it would or not. ‘Because you have a somewhat closeted gay man right here for hire if you’d like.’

I smiled at him, genuinely touched. ‘You’re sweet, but I really don’t wanna ruin things or make an idiot of myself.’

‘Say no more. Marie!’ He called to a barmaid who was carrying an empty tray. ‘Two Manhattans!’ She nodded and quickly moved off. He then grabbed two chairs from behind him and signaled for me to sit down.

‘Come. Sit closer. Tell me all about your fabulous New York City life and the fabulous men it’s home to!’

Within seconds, he scooted his chair closer to mine, left his hand on my shoulder and launched his head back in laughter as though i’d just told a real thigh slapper.

The gesture took both myself and the others around us by surprise, but I could tell exactly what he was trying to do. He quickly leant his head in to my ear to whisper friendly nothings, although the gesture seemed intimate in most cases.

‘Listen to this. One time, I was at a very conservative parent’s house - you know, the kind who don’t know their son is gay? So when his dad asked me what I do for a living, apparently “your son” wasn’t the ideal answer.’ Came his dead pan whisper.

My eyes widened and I couldn’t stop the uncontrollable laughter that erupted from me. That was the most absurd story I’d ever heard in my life. ‘Oh. My. God.’ I managed through each laugh.

A few more stories from Michael and by the end of it, I physically couldn’t stop myself from falling back into my chair. His hand had moved from my shoulder to my knee and for the first time in a while, I felt so carefree. I hadn’t laughed like that in years. I had almost entirely forgotten what the purpose of all of it was until finally Michael leant back and said:

‘Mission accomplished.’

Still chuckling, I looked at him confused - saddened that he had stopped making me laugh. ‘Mission, what?’

‘Adrian?’

It was Scott. And a very hard to read Chris in tow. And then a few others that I didn’t recognize.

‘Hey, there you are!’ I smiled as I stood up to hug him in greeting. ‘I’ve been waiting for you.’

‘I know, I know, but moment of silence for the Chanel shirt I completely ruined by spilling cologne all down the front.’

‘NO.’ I scoffed in horror.

‘YES.’ He scoffed back.

As nice as it was to see Scott again, my eyes automatically diverted to his older brother, standing behind him, drink in hand, looking more than a little unimpressed.

Even still. So handsome. So, so handsome.

‘Would you guys like to join us?’ Michael’s voiced had changed. It was deeper and manlier, like how he had spoken to Ben earlier. I looked over and was met with a smile that screamed “trust me” by him. I bit my lip in anticipation for where this “game” could go.

I didn’t want to be petty. I had no right to be petty. I just wanted him to want me, you know?

Chris still hadn’t said a word but I could feel his gaze on me as I introduced the group to Michael. We all sat down and I watched as his jaw tightened with every word that spilled out of Michael’s charismatic mouth. He wasn’t even subtle in the way he sized him up, inwardly attempting to deduce whether or not this guy was a threat.

My eyes shone as I watched Michael and Scott discuss politics… or something. Most of Chris’ entourage had dispersed and just the four of us were now left. I knew the jig was up the second the two handsome gents in front of us started trading barbs on each other’s gym techniques and all the while, unbeknownst to them, flirting outrageously with one another.

Leaning over, his own eyes fixated on his brother and the handsome stranger, Chris whispered. ‘He’s gay, isn’t he?’

Taking a sip of my drink, I nodded slyly in victory. Chris blew out a breath of air and started to laugh as he reached his hand up and rubbed his eyes.

‘Why, was there a problem Evans?’ I asked smugly, letting my head rest on my fist and my eyelashes flutter away.

He pulled his hand away and simply started shaking his head at me with that goofy smile on his face.

I licked my lips before sipping my drink again. Triumph flowing through my veins as he reached over and squeezed my knee affectionately.

We gave Michael and Scott another ten minutes or so before we decided to just leave them to it.

As we walked towards the awaiting car service in the parking lot out back, I could feel the fuzziness return as Chris draped his jacket over me and swung an arm around my shoulder. At least this was progress from the last time he’d offered me his jacket…

Despite loving it, the alcohol in my system decided to speak my mind for me.

‘You confuse me.’

He looked down at me and observed me curiously. ‘Likewise... you really had me thinking Fabio back there was in with a chance!’

‘I think you’re more confusing than me!’ I declared, pulling away slightly to look up at him.

‘Ahh, come on Adrian, cut me some slack here!’ He stated with a slightly dry laugh. ‘I’m the one trying to find the right balance between “respecting” your space and at the same time desperately wanting to invade it.’

As we entered his house, the air between us was thick. I knew it and I knew that he knew it. The car ride over here had been relatively silent for fear we’d say the wrong thing that would ruin the moment. Instead my mind swirled his words around in a whirlpool.

Desperately wanting to invade it.

Desperately. He was desperate.

Flicking the light switch on next to his front door and shutting it, he immediately inquired if I wanted a drink.

‘Please.’ I responded as I slowly followed him to the kitchen, my nerves growing with each step.

I entered his kitchen for the first time since the day after his moving in party and instantly my eyes were drawn to the counter that he’d pressed me up against during our first kiss.

I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a fire in my belly that screamed to be put out. A fire I knew by this point could only be put out by him. A fire I’d never felt before. Not even with Alex.

Leaning against the island, I watched him closely as I discarded his jacket onto the counter top. He bent down into his fridge and his eyes glinted mischievously before reaching in and pulling out a familiar bottle.

‘I mean, now seems as good a time as any, right?’ Chris questioned as he held the bottle of champagne I’d gotten him as his move-in present in one hand whilst the other filtered through a cupboard for glasses

He set two crystal glasses down onto the counter. With ease he popped the cork on the champagne, letting out a subtle ‘ahh’ as he did. The way his muscles and veins popped along with it was a divine sight to behold.

He poured a generous amount into each glass before handing me one and picking up his own and carrying both it and the bottle towards his cozy seating area.

It occurred to me then that something appeared to be missing and as we both settled onto the couch, I inquired into the obvious.

‘Where’s Dodger?’

‘He’s on a sleepover.’ He replied after taking a generous sip.

We talked casually for a while, mostly laughing about how Scott had stolen “my man”, with our knees touching and the air growing thicker by the second.

By the time we were onto our second glass of bubbly, the air was ready to choke us.

Whilst taking another sip, I could feel Chris’ eyes burning into me.

‘God, you’re sexy.’

I almost spluttered the liquid in my mouth as I moved the glass away.

‘SO sexy.’ I ridiculed the very notion, the alcohol enforcing a bit of confidence. ‘All sweaty and scruffy after a long night of basking in the company of cigarette smokers..’

‘It annoys me when you do that.’ He commented lowly, his eyes still not diverting.

He sat forward and used the remote control that was on the coffee table to turn the fire place on. It wasn’t even a subtle excuse as he drew closer me in the process.

His eyes met mine and he studied them for a while before once again taking the reins.

‘Are you saying you don’t think you’re sexy?’

I shyly shook my head without even thinking and he began to tut in response.

Our eyes grew darker under each other’s gaze and as he slowly leaned in, I found myself drawing back slightly. My voice barely above a whisper.

‘If I let you kiss me, do you promise you’ll stop with this whole “just friends” thing?’

He paused to think about it before whispering, ‘Do you promise you’ll learn to trust me?’

Our pupils began bouncing off of one other as a silent agreement was made. He leaned in slowly as both our eyes put up a fight until the very last second; ending in a kiss that spoke volumes as it sounded off into the silence.

Before I knew it, my back hit his couch cushions with a light ‘puff’ and I could hear myself swallow. Chris leaned down next to me and began to lightly drag his fingertips along any piece of skin I had on display, leaving goosebumps in his tracks.

After a lengthy sweep, his hands began to caress my inner thighs. ‘Can I… show you... how sexy I find you?’

I quickly noticed his body attempt to shift downwards and the words blurted out before I could even think them through.

‘I’m really not much of an… “oral” kinda girl.’

My hands flew to my mouth and covered them in shock. Had I really just said that!?

He paused and his head drew close to the exposed skin of my upper chest. I felt my body shiver as he placed a delicate kiss in between my cleavage. His fingers lightly squeezed the skin on my inner thigh.

‘That’s okay, I can think of other ways…’ he hummed before leaning down and placing more kisses.

For around five seconds, I was sure I was legally dead. Deceased. Gone. Finished.

‘Okay.’ I caved quietly.

I couldn’t believe how liberal I was being. As I recall, just yesterday I was moaning to Amanda about my fear of being intimate again and now, as the clock approached 2:00am, I was a loosey goosey after only a few glasses of alcohol.

He stopped kissing me long enough to look up and deep into my eyes. ‘Yeah?’

This time I simply nodded, words now escaping me.

Reaching up and kissing me firmly, he smiled into the kiss and I couldn’t stop myself from smiling back.

I had just about melted into his lips when I felt him make contact with the fabric of my underwear. I jolted into the kiss and almost instantly, my hands were on the defense.

Unwilling to let me stop this progress, his lips continued to dominate mine as a distraction whilst his hand pushed my own away.

He once again reached down and touched the fabric, only this time with pressure as he introduced a slow rubbing movement. Up and down. Back and forth.

My banished hand moved from my thigh to the back of his head as our kiss deepened in sync with his movements.

When he finally drew the fabric to one side and made contact with my sensitive heat I pulled away from the kiss, laying my head down onto the cushion and shutting my eyes as the reality of what was happening set in.

Undeterred, his lips set to work on my neck as his hand went about familiarizing itself with my most intimate area.

My mind was racing at a million miles per hour, arguing with itself about the possibility of stopping it and just plain letting it continue. My hand traveled down his hard chest and I couldn’t stop myself as I reached under his shirt and began to feel how much of a muscle man he really was. Because he was. In every way. Such a man.

‘Chris.’ I murmured. He didn’t reply.

Instead, he smacked his lips back down onto mine as he continued his rhythm.

My back began to arch and my knees began to buckle, every single muscle began to shake as it basked in the pleasure of the moment he was creating.

‘I-’

My eyes peeled open for a split second before shutting again as pure ecstasy took over.

‘You.’ Chris whispered between heavy breaths. ‘Are. So...’ He trailed off as he himself basked in the newfound intimacy he was producing between us.

My hands reached overhead, gripping the side of his sofa for dear life.

Moments blended into one another as my mind struggled to wrap itself around the logistics of it all. I no longer had a sense of time.

My mind clouded with visions of heaven as my body shuddered, becoming completely engulfed in warmth, like a rapid avalanche cascading over each and every inch of me.

‘Ooowwwhhhh!’ I managed, barely.

I panted for a few moments, basking in the euphoria that had just taken place. Chris continued to trail sweet kisses along my jaw and eventually, when our eyes met, they swore an oath to one another.

‘Fuck being friends?’ He whispered it aloud with a knowingly smug smile.

‘FUCK. BEING. FRIENDS.’ I shouted with glee, pulling his lips down onto my own as a firm confirmation.

----------------------------------------------------

A/N: If you made it to the end of this long one then thank you, I LOVE YOU!!

Things are starting to get serious between our two reluctant lovebirds....

#chris evans fanfic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans imagine #chris fic #chris evans

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