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jamielea81 · 10 months

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Just Friends

One Shot - 2,700 words

Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: A little heartbreaky. A little sweet. A lightly funny. Fluffy. My usual.

Notes: This is just for fun. I know nothing of the private life of Mr. Evans, so take with a grain of salt. This is a little self indulgent as the reader is tall, but it’s only mentioned like twice. No use of Y/N. Enjoy my lovelies.

Feedback and reblogs are appreciated but never expected. They do keep me fueled though.

It was ridiculous. Utterly and completely ridiculous. Chris was being a butthead. Plain and simple.

He was the best person you knew but, also the most aggravating person you knew. And he was pissed at you. Not the kind of pissed where it’s forgiven in a day over a beer. No, he wasn’t speaking to you and frankly you didn’t care.

Okay, you did care. But you were pissed at him too. If he hadn’t of asked for your opinion several of times, you wouldn’t have been forced to tell him the truth. He knew better than to ask you five times in one night what you thought about Amelia, especially when you had been drinking.

Amelia was an airhead. She thought too highly of herself and it wasn’t warranted. She didn’t deserve Chris and that’s exactly what you told him. Yes, it was blunt, but he asked you five times. Five. You could only lie so much. And why did he care so much about your damn opinion anyway?

Was your crush on Chris part of the reason for not liking Amelia? No. She really wasn’t a great person and, in your defense, your crush on Chris was new.

It wasn’t one of those “I’ve loved him my whole life” kind of crushes. The kind that you torture yourself with for years. No. Chris had always been your buddy. Your pal. Kind of like a brother to you. Only that had changed in the last year. Honestly, you never thought of him more than a friend. Of course, you had always found him attractive, but you knew lots of guys that were attractive.

Your feelings had changed for him after a night of trivia. It amazed you that you were able to pinpoint so easily when your feelings for him changed.

It was game night at Chris’ place and the two of you partnered up and decided to call your team Whiskeypedia. {Your idea, but he took the credit.) Hugs seemed to last longer than normal that night. Shoulder bumping nudges were frequent, and high fives turned into handholding that made your tummy do flips throughout the evening. These new feelings made you extremely happy and terrified all at the same time. Often you felt yourself shake. Like your nerves, heart, and head could not take it.

Something had changed between the two of you in a few short hours, but you didn’t act on it. You couldn’t. This was Chris! And you, well, you were you.

You were a guy’s girl. Everyone’s buddy. Everyone’s wingman. It has always been that way, even before high school. Always a bridesmaid, but never a bride in a sense. You were too tall at nearly six feet and had curves. And not just in the chest or ass that guys often used to describe a curvy girl. No, you had legitimate curves. Even though you were confident in who you were, you found yourself shrinking down when meeting new people. Hunching your shoulders, and hugging yourself in an attempt to always make yourself smaller.

Men were always a bit intimidated of the tall woman. But with Chris, you were yourself. Never shy about getting in his face when he was being a shithead. Always the first one to have dance off with him when he was being goofy. You were just the real you around him.

The two of you had been friends for a decade and hadn’t gone more than a week without talking, until now. Now two weeks had gone by without a single word from him. You hadn’t picked up the phone either, so that was on you too.

He said some pretty harsh things. Called you too judgmental and selfish. Said you didn’t like when anyone else was happy. That one hurt the most. The words really made you re-evaluate your life and your friendships. You didn’t feel that way. You had been happy most of your adult life. Always celebrated your friends and family’s accomplishments.

He was wrong. The words did not make sense and they really hurt. Especially coming from Chris. From someone you felt knew you so well.

Amelia had come into your life two months ago. Chris had always been quick to fall in love or maybe lust, so when she was suddenly around your friend group all the time, you weren’t surprised. It was something you were used to. He dated a lot and that was just the way it was.

You treated her like you did any of your friend’s significant other’s. You were friendly and welcoming and if you didn’t hit it off, you remained polite.

So, it had been two weeks. Two weeks of trying to keep busy. Two weeks of visiting your parent’s place way more than normal. Thankfully, they weren’t questioning it. Two weeks of feeling pretty low and spending too much money on things that made you feel pretty. New shoes, new clothes, fresh seafood, organic veggies from that upscale grocery store. If anything, this was a life detox. And maybe you needed this break. After all, the crush you had on him for the better part of a year had not dimmed.

Another four days had passed without word from him. But in the midst of water boiling and bacon sautéing in a pan, you heard the doorbell ring. You clicked the Nest icon on your phone which pulled up the front door camera. It was Chris. Chris with his ballcap on backwards, dressed in a sweatshirt and joggers. Despite how good he looked in a backwards cap, he looked rough.

You clicked out of the app and decided to ignore the door. This did little to get rid of your unplanned guest as the doorbell rang again followed by a text message.

Chris: I know you’re home. When you’re out, you leave the outdoor lights on. Let me in.

You replied almost immediately.

You: I’m busy.

You: And frankly, you should have called before coming.

Chris: We don’t do that. You and I have an open-door policy. Don’t make me use my spare key.

“Fucker,” you muttered as you walked to your front door. You turned the lock and walked away, not bothering to open it for him.

The door opened softly and closed with a click. Back in your kitchen, you poured the pasta into the pot, and added a touch more salt to the water.

“Smells good,” he said, as he pulled out a bar stool from the island.

You hummed in response and pulled out two beers from the refrigerator. You placed both in front of him; the unspoken rule that he would uncap the bottle for you.

He tried again. “What are you making?”

“Bacon mac and cheese,” you replied softly before you took a long pull from your beer.

“Do I get to sample this delicacy?”

You shut the burner off where the bacon was cooking and moved the strips to a plate lined with a couple of paper towels, ignoring his question.

“You look like shit, Chris.”

“I feel like it. And thanks,” he said with a smirk.

You shrugged a shoulder and took another pull from your bottle. You busied yourself with wiping down the already cleaned counter and after a few minutes drained the pasta water. You added cream to the pot, salt, pepper, and a little flour. “Make yourself useful and chop up that bacon.” you nodded to the plate.

Chris didn’t object and got to work on his task. He sampled a couple of slivered slices of bacon, but you let it slide.

Once the pasta was finished with way too much cheese, he passed you the plate of chopped bacon and you mixed it in, sprinkling more on top of the completed dish. You grabbed two plates from the cupboard and dished up a large portion for each of you. Picking up your plate, you brought it to your dining table knowing Chris would follow behind you.

Once you both were seated and you had eaten a few bites, you looked him in the eyes for the first time that night. He really did look a little worse for the wear. Dark circles under his eyes with hair mussed after a bit of scratching after he pulled his hat off. “What are you doing here, Chris?”

He exhaled and set his fork on his plate. His hand trailed down his face stopping in his scruff. “I’m sorry,” he breathed out before taking a deep breath. “I’m here to apologize.”

“Apologize for what exactly?”

Were you being a bit of a snot? Maybe. But you were hurt and didn’t know where your friendship stood. He wasn’t getting off easy.

He took a breath and scratched at his scruff again. “For being an ass to you. For saying things I should have never said to you. Things that aren’t true. Really.” He nodded his head once and took another breath, keeping his eyes on yours. “I’m sorry. I’ve been miserable these last couple of weeks without you.”

You pushed your plate away and stood up, downing your beer as you walked back to the kitchen. You grabbed two more bottles and placed them in front of him to open. He did and passed one to you.

“I don’t know what to say. I’m miserable too but you really hurt me. Like this is soul crushing and I’m angry and I’ve never been angry at you. I’ve been mad at you before and you’ve ticked me off, but nothing like this.”

He smirked. The fucker smirked. “Just a time or two.”

“So, I don’t know what to do here, Chris. How do we move on or move forward?” you asked.

It was his turn to stand. He abandoned his beer and went to the living room making himself comfortable on your large sofa. You stood up leaving your beer for a moment before turning around to grab it and bring it with you. You took a seat on the opposite end of the sofa and turned your body to face him.

Chris took a ragged breath and sat forward in his seat. “I think I’ve fallen for you.” He turned to face you, scooting one seat closer, but leaving one cushion between you. He shook his head. “I have feelings for you. You’re my best friend and this scares the fuck out of me.”

Your stomach dropped and it felt like it ran to your bathroom where it was certainly emptying itself. God did you feel like you could puke. This isn’t real life. He has feelings for you? Since when? Why? How? You couldn’t get the words out but the tears sure chose to drop from your eyes at that exact moment.

“Say something. Anything. Please sweetheart.” He reached for your hand and you let him take it.

Sweetheart. Something you have heard him call the women he has dated, but never you. What was happening?

“I – I don’t know what to say.” You shook your head and blinked the tears away. “You have feelings for me?” Anger edged your voice. “Since when? What about Amelia?”

He scooted closer again, using both hands to hold yours now. You yanked yours away and it stunned him for a second.

“I think,” he began “I think I was seeking validation from you when I was asking what you thought about Amelia. I wanted you to tell me she was great and that we were good together.” He licked his lips and grabbed your hand again and you let him. “I think I’ve had feelings for you for quite some time. But we’ve never been that way. We’ve always been friends, so when things started to change for me…”

“When?” you interrupted. “When did your feelings start to change?”

“Whiskeypedia.”

You nodded your head. “Me too,” you whispered.

His eyes widen and he gripped your hand tighter. “I lashed out when you told me how you really felt about her. I knew you weren’t wrong, but I wanted something to work. At least one relationship to work. I screw things up, relationships, I mean. Always have. But I can’t do that with you. I can’t. You mean too much to me to fuck up what we have. But I cannot pretend I don’t want something more.”

“What do you want to do? I can’t stop being your friend, I don’t know how. But now that this is out here in the atmosphere, I don’t know how to go back to that.” You squeezed his hand and let your other hand land on his arm. “I’m scared, Chris.”

“I think we try. I think we go on being us but we see what more we can become,” he said. “It’s us. We can be smart sometimes. Mainly you, but I try.”

You gave him a smile and he used his thumb to wipe away the fresh tears from your face. “Okay... I agree. I guess I did make you dinner after all.”

Chris chuckled and then shook his head. “Why didn’t you tell me that feelings had changed for you?”

“Me?” you questioned. “Chris, come on. Look at you and then look at me.” You shook your head. At this rate you would have a major headache for the next several days. “Look at the girls you’ve dated. All gorgeous.”

You stood up and walked to the dinning room, grabbing both plates and then bringing them to the sink in the kitchen to rinse. Chris followed behind you, letting you place the plates in the sink before grabbing your arm and turning you around to face him.

“You are gorgeous. You are smart. You are hilarious. You are caring. You’re my best friend and you are everything.”

Suddenly he was so close to you that his breath kissed your face. The two of you lined up perfectly, eye to eye.

“I came here thinking I’d lose you. I’d tell you I wanted something more and you’d tell me I’m crazy and just your friend. That I would have to go on and pretend I’ve gotten over you and that I could just accept that,” he said. Chris moved a strand of hair behind your ear and held his hand in place while his other hand rested on your shoulder. “Can I kiss you? Please.”

The tears were back. You were scared to death. Scared he would change his mind and realize you were better off friends. Scared his feelings would change and you would lose your friend. Scared he would find someone that would fit the type of woman he normally dated. But you needed to try. You had to try for you and for him. A year of hiding your true feelings and the two of you dating people just to pass the time wasn’t doing either of you any favors.

“Yes,” you whispered.

Chris leaned in slowly. One armed wrapped around your waist bringing your body flush against his while the other held your neck. Both of your hands hugged his waist as you let him take control. It wasn’t rushed. It was in slow motion. His eyes crinkled and he smiled as your noses bumped. You closed your eyes just and your lips brushed against each other’s. Neither of you pulled back, you just held your lips together for what felt like a minute. He pulled back slightly before kissing you again. And again. You smiled against his lips and attempted to pull away but he chuckled and kissed you again. Both your hands traveled up his waist to his ribcage and then to his shoulders as the kiss intensified. One of your hands slipped into his hair and scratched lightly. He let out a little groan and you smiled against his lips again. Chris took this as an invitation to stroke his tongue into your mouth causing a moan of your own. He chuckled and kissed your lips softly before pulling away. His kissed your cheek and pulled the two of you into a hug.

“Maybe we should stop. I don’t wanna, but we probably should. You should probably let me take you out,” he said.

“I probably should, huh? Don’t want you thinking I’m that type of girl.”

“Sweetheart, you couldn’t convince me you aren’t the best type of girl even if you tried.”

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