𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨 | 𝚓𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚝

𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙝𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚 | 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟷/𝟸

[photo: from the lunch club video "who is lunch club" | wc: 1,203 | note: thank you guys for over 700 reads, it means the world to me to read comments/see the likes on the chapters! if you have any requests feel free to send them my way, otherwise expect more from me soon (and thanks again!)]

"Hey, baby," his tired voice, barely above a whisper, appeared from behind you for the first time in a few hours.

He had just finished streaming Minecraft Monday, and, despite his composure, he had won. After hearing all of the screaming and congratulating through a cycle of voices you mostly recognized as friends of his, you wondered why he wasn't more excited. Hearing the sleep laced in his voice, you supposed his energy must have been completely drained from the experience—he always did have a small social battery. It didn't help that it was getting late, either.

"Hello," you replied quietly, turning your head to see him in the doorframe, "I heard you won, sweetie! I'm sure you carried, right?"

His head was a mere few inches from the top of the door frame, unabashedly tall, and his misfits hoodie was bunched up around his waist on his left side revealing that underneath it he had on a white shirt. He nodded wordlessly at your compliment and slouched against the frame, even more clearly exhausted than previously. You gave him a sympathetic smile, "Come here..."

You opened your arms from on the couch as he walked over. Slowly, he placed one knee between your legs and the other on the outside, his arms wrapped around your shoulders. He slumped down, half of his body laying on top of you and the other half on the couch next to you.

The pressure from his weight against your body was comforting, radiating a sense of warmth and security. He softly mumbled, burying his face into the crook of your neck, "Sometimes I just want to hide."

"Hey, that doesn't sound like the winner talking to me," you frowned. Hearing him speak like that was difficult, but the longer you were with him, the more accustomed you got to it and realized it was simply part of his reality. His social presence overwhelmed him frequently, making it easy to think pessimistically and negatively about everything. You tried to remind yourself to be grateful to have been welcomed into his life and to be able to comfort and help him.

You tightened your grip slightly in an effort to reassure him and he squeezed you in return, "You never have to hide, but if you ever feel like you do, I'm here for you. You can always hide with me. It's been a long day for you, huh?"

"Mhm," he hummed against your skin and added with a chuckle, "A really long day."

"I'm sorry, baby," you began to gently stroke his hair, ruffling your fingers through it and watching it fall back into place. Your hands moved down to the base of the back of his neck where you began to softly massage him.

He sighed against your touch, "You're too good to me."

"Never. You deserve the best," you craned your neck to be able to kiss his forehead. You felt his face heat up in a blush before he pulled his head away from your neck.

He stared down at you, but you were too lost in his eyes to be embarrassed by his stare. You noticed the flecks of gold, reminiscent of honey, that were scattered in his otherwise dark eyes and the small freckles that dotted his pale skin. Your fingers moved back through his hair and fell to cup his cheeks.

"I love you, Y/N," he breathed, leaning into your hands.

You froze, stunned, as your breath hitched in your throat—he had never said that to you before. He always told you that he was saving it, though you suspected he just wasn't ready, and you respected that boundary, knowing how much he appreciated his privacy. You wondered what made this the occasion that brought that barrier down, if it was something you did or said—

"Y/N?" His voice tore you from your thoughts, and made you realize it was a bad time to fall silent.

You bit your lip to stop the tears from welling in your eyes, "I love you, too...so much."

He exhaled softly in relief, almost an airy laugh, and his lips momentarily found yours. When he pulled away, you snaked your hands around to the back of his head and brought him back down for a more lingering kiss. His lips curled into a smile against yours and, as if it were contagious, you did the same, until the kiss melted into the both of you smiling against each other.

He fell onto your other side, nearer to the back of the couch, and pulled you against his chest. You felt his breaths as they rose and fell, and grounded yourself in his heart beat as it slowed and synced to yours.

"On a more serious note," he broke the silence solemnly and you prepared for the worst, "Would you use the James Charles makeup palette if I bought it?"

You couldn't hold back your laughter as you pulled your ear from his chest. Unable to form an answer through your giggles, he joined you, his laughs low and pleasant, only causing you to laugh harder. Slowly, you stilled enough to meet his eyes, and he seemed to genuinely want an answer, despite his laughter.

"I mean, sure," you shrugged, still collecting yourself. You were not particularly into makeup, but you were not opposed to receiving free things or gifts either. Plus, you would really enjoy trying it out on him, but you knew he would have to owe you a pretty big favor for you to get your way.

Unbeknownst to your mischievous thoughts, he smiled and the relief coating his voice made you laugh harder, "Oh, thank goodness."

"Why?" As you paused to let him answer, you tangled your legs with his.

"It's a long story," he started, almost expecting it to be an excuse to not tell the story, but he continued at your silence, "Well, James Charles cancelled me and—"

Your giggles cut him off as you gripped your hand against his hoodie, "What?"

"Why're you laughing? This is serious business, I can't have the James Charles cancelling me," he feigned offense, "I'd never be able to recover!"

"I'm sorry, you're totally right, continue," you muffled your laughter against the black cloth of his hoodie, happy to see his sense of humor returning.

He nodded and explained, "The only way for me to get uncancelled, which we can agree is essential to my career's well being, was to buy his palette and tweet out a great review. I just didn't want the purchase to go completely to waste."

"Interesting. Yeah, I mean, I'll use it," you grinned, "Might even have to try it out on you, first."

"I don't know about that," his eyes widened slightly, and he scoffed, "I have a reputation to maintain, y'know?"

"A reputation of agreeing to buy a makeup pallet from James Charles for an intangible reward?" You half-asked and half-accused.

He stammered to find a response but you cut him off, "It really has been a long day for you, hasn't it?"

"Yeah," he appreciated the out you gave him from responding to your question and pulled you so that you were snug under his arm, "But when I can hide with you, I hardly notice."

[end? - let me know if you would like a part 2!]