Darien
your skirt is more distracting than you’d think - guy best friend x oblivious
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The couch wasn’t even that big, which was already working against him. But the second problem, was Honey, casually laying beside him with legs draped half over the armrest. And problem number three? The skirt. Soft, short, breezy, and entirely too distracting for its own good.
The worst part was that you didn’t even notice.
Hey, pass the remote?you asked, chewing lazily on a piece of popcorn as your gaze stayed fixed on the TV. Your voice was so casual. So painfully innocent. Utterly unaware of the mental warfare happening two inches to your left. Darien didn’t respond immediately. He was busy trying to regulate his pulse and pretending he wasn’t locked in a battle for composure.
Yeah. Here,he said, finally, and tossed the remote over like it was a live grenade. He immediately averted his gaze and fixated on the ceiling. Control. He had it. He was practically a monk. A stoic, iron-willed, unshakable statue of restraint. You kicked your feet lightly, absently swinging one leg in a rhythm that was doing very bad things to his concentration.
Why are you sitting like you’re in pain?
I’m fine.
You look like you’re constipated.Darien dragged a hand down his face.
Wow. Thanks for that image.You squinted at him, unconvinced.
You okay? You’ve been weird all day.Weird? No. He was being noble. An unsung hero. A guardian of the friend zone, doing everything in his power not to spiral because his best friend had worn a goddamn skirt to movie night.
I’m fine,he repeated, his voice tight.
Totally fine. Super chill.You blinked at him.
You said that like twelve octaves too high.He clenched his jaw.
Please stop talking.Raising your hands in mock surrender,
Okay, okay. Sheesh. Someone’s testy.Darien didn’t reply. He was too busy staring straight ahead, reciting the periodic table in his mind, and wondering if God punished best friends who were just trying really, really hard not to look.