Archive of Our Own ^beta

The neon lights of the dimly lit bar cast a hazy glow over Jonnaay and Max, their laughter echoing through the crowded space. Jonnaay was already well into his cups, his words slurring slightly, while Max was feeling the effects of the alcohol but was still relatively lucid.

As the night wore on, the two friends found themselves alone at a secluded table. Max, feeling a surge of courage, decided to confess his feelings.

"Jonnaay, I've been meaning to tell you something for a while now," he began, his voice barely audible over the soft music. "I... I like you.”

Jonnaay's eyes widened in surprise. He blinked a few times, as if trying to process what he had just heard. "You what?" he replied, his voice thick with confusion.

Max took a deep breath. "I like you more than just a friend," he repeated, his voice trembling slightly. "I've been keeping it in for so long."

Jonnaay chuckled, his laughter sounding forced. "Oh, Max," he said, waving a dismissive hand. "You don't mean that."

Max shook his head. "I do," he insisted. "I really do."

Jonnaay leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. "You know, I've always made jokes about not being gay," he said drunkenly. "But it's because I'm scared. Scared of what people will think. Scared of myself."

Max's heart pounded in his chest. He had never heard Jonnaay talk about his feelings like this before. "I understand," he said softly. "It's not easy."

Jonnaay nodded. "Yeah, it's not," he agreed. "But I think I'm ready to be honest with myself. And with you."

Before Max could respond, Jonnaay leaned in and kissed him. Max was taken aback, his body freezing in place. He pulled away, his eyes wide with shock. "Jonnaay, you're too drunk," he said, his voice shaking. "I can't do this. If I do, I don't know where it'll end."

Jonnaay followed him, backing him into a wall. "Who says I want you to stop?" he asked, his voice low and seductive.

The moment Max pulled away from Jonnaay, Scott approached the table. "Hey, Jonnaay, I've been meaning to ask you about that new game you were streaming the other day," he said, his voice cutting through the conversation.

Max saw this as his opportunity to escape. He quickly excused himself and made his way outside. The cool night air helped to clear his head, but he couldn't shake the feeling of dread. He knew that Jonnaay was too drunk to remember what had happened between them.

As Max stood outside, watching the city lights, he couldn't help but worry. "Jonny is so drunk, he won't remember," he thought to himself. "What if he does remember? What if thinks it was just a mistake? What if he never brings it up again?"

Max left the house, feeling a mix of relief and disappointment. He knew he needed some time to think things through, and staying at Harry's would give him the space he needed.

A few days later, back home, Max was sitting at his computer when he heard the dreaded Discord ding-dong. It was a call from Jonny. Max hesitated for a moment before answering. He really hoped he didn’t remember or did he?

With a deep breath, Max answered the call. "Hey, Jonny," he said, trying to keep his voice casual.

"Hey, Max," Jonnaay replied. "I'm sorry about the other night."

Max's heart sank. He had been hoping that Jonnaay wouldn't remember. "It's okay," he said, trying to sound nonchalant. "I don't remember much either."

"I do," Jonnaay admitted. "I remember everything. And I want to talk about it."

Max hesitated. He didn't know what to say. He was both relieved and terrified that Jonnaay remembered. "Okay," he finally replied. "Let's talk."

The next day, Jonnaay arrived at Max's front door, his hands nervously clutching a small bouquet of flowers. Max, who had been pacing back and forth in his living room, opened the door and smiled tentatively.

"Hey," he said, stepping aside to let Jonnaay in.

"Hey," Jonnaay replied, handing Max the flowers. “These are for you.”

Max took the flowers and smiled gratefully. "Thanks," he said. "It's really sweet."

Jonnaay followed Max upstairs to his room, where they sat down on Max's bed.

Max and Jonnaay sat on Max's bed, facing each other. The atmosphere was tense, but there was also a sense of anticipation.

"I'm sorry about the other night," Jonnaay began. "I shouldn't have kissed you when I was so drunk."

Max nodded. "It's okay," he said. "I understand."

"No, you don't understand," Jonnaay insisted. "I'm so embarrassed about it. I don't know what came over me."

Max reached out and took Jonnaay's hand. "It's okay," he said again, squeezing his hand gently. "I don't blame you. I was the one who confessed my feelings. And I'm glad you remember."

Jonnaay looked surprised. "You are?" he asked.

Max nodded. "Yes," he said. "I'm glad you remember. Because I mean what I said. I like you, Jonnaay. A lot."

Jonnaay smiled. "I like you too, Max," he said. "A lot."

They sat in silence for a moment, their hands intertwined. Then, Jonnaay leaned in and kissed Max. This time, Max didn't pull away. He kissed Jonnaay back, feeling a surge of happiness and relief.