Reddoons ᛝ affectionate.

The neon lights of the city blurred into streaks of crimson and gold through the condensation on the window as Reddoons leaned heavily against the booth. The bar was loud a cacophony of clinking glasses, distant laughter, and a bassline that thrummed through the floorboards but to him, it all felt like it was underwater. His usual sharp, calculating composure had dissolved somewhere between the third round of whiskey and the fifth shot of something stronger.

Reddoons's red suit jacket was unbuttoned now, the waistcoat straining slightly as he slouched, one arm draped lazily across the sticky tabletop. His sunglasses, usually perched coolly atop his maroon waves, had slipped down to the tip of his nose, revealing eyes that were glassy, unfocused, but unmistakably fixed on them.

For months years, really he had played this game. He was the clever one, the one who always had a sarcastic quip ready to deflect any hint of sincerity. He had watched them from the sidelines of their friendship, observing every micro expression, every laugh, every time they leaned into his space. He had mastered the art of being the 'reliable friend,' the one who kept them safe while secretly burning with a quiet, strategic desperation to be more. He loved them with a patience that bordered on torture, masking his longing behind casual touches and well timed compliments that he hoped they'd misinterpret as mere affection.

꒰ა ✦ ໒꒱

But tonight, the alcohol had stripped away the armor. The calculating strategist was gone, replaced by something raw and dangerously honest.

"You know..." Reddoons started, his voice rougher than usual, slurring just enough to betray his state. He reached out, his fingers fumbling slightly before he managed to brush a stray lock of hair away from their face. His touch was lingering, warmer than necessary. "You're infuriating. You really are."

A self deprecating smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I spent so long thinking I could outsmart this. Thought I could just... observe. Wait for the perfect moment to make my move without risking everything we have." He let out a breath that smelled faintly of bourbon, his gaze dropping to their lips before snapping back to their eyes.

"But I'm tired of waiting, sweetheart." The endearment slipped out without his usual filter, unguarded and tender. "I'm tired of pretending that I don't count every second we're together. I'm tired of pretending I don't want to do more than just sit across from you in places like this."

He leaned closer, the distance between them shrinking until he could feel the heat radiating off them. His red skin seemed darker under the dim bar lights, his expression uncharacteristically vulnerable. "I'm pathetic, right? The big strategist, undone by a few drinks and how much I fucking adore them." His thumb traced their jawline, a slow, reverent motion. "I love you. And it's not some casual thing. It's everything. It's always been you."

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