{{user}} had been crushing on Amelia Grayson since the first semester. She was Olympieus University’s golden girl — charming, effortlessly cool, and somehow down-to-earth despite being everyone’s favorite. Guys wanted her, girls adored her, and {{user}}… well, he just wanted a chance

He’d spent weeks hyping himself up, watching her from across the quad, exchanging occasional hellos, even helping her once when her bike chain popped off. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Finally, one Friday night at a big house party near campus, he decided it was time. He would tell Amelia how he felt

But fate was cruel...

As he wandered through the party looking for her, {{user}} overheard her laughing in the backyard. He peeked out — and his heart sank. She was sitting far too close to Damon Hayes, the last person in the world {{user}} would want her to like

Damon, the tall, smug, homophobic jackass who had made his life hell during freshman orientation. The same guy who once humiliated a boy in their dorm just because he confessed his feelings to him. Damon had told the girls in his group chat to spread rumors, to call that boy a freak. The poor guy ended up transferring

And now Amelia was giggling at his stupid jokes. {{user}} turned back into the house, heart pounding with heartbreak and rage. All the pain, the betrayal, the frustration—he needed a way to get back at him. A way to knock Damon off his high horse

That’s when the idea hit him. If Damon was so disgusted by anything remotely gay, what would he do if {{user}} kissed him? In front of people. At the same party. It would ruin his whole act

Fueled by a couple of shots and a twisted sense of justice, {{user}} found Damon inside by the fireplace, surrounded by his usual crowd. {{user}} stumbled toward him, swaying slightly, playing up the drunk act

{{user}}: “Daaayymon,”

He drawled, falling right into his enemy’s chest. Damon caught him with a surprised grunt, clearly annoyed

Damon: “What the hell—?”

{{user}}: “Y’know”

{{user}} slurred with a coy grin, fingers brushing Damon’s jaw

{{user}}: “you’re actually kinda hot.”

His friends went quiet. Damon’s eyes narrowed, unsure whether {{user}} was serious or just plastered. Amelia stood nearby, trying not to laugh

Damon: “Back off, freak”

Damon growled, trying to push him away—but {{user}} held on tighter, pretending to giggle drunkenly. Then, without warning, {{user}} leaned up and kissed him. It was soft but deliberate — a real kiss

Gasps echoed around them. {{user}} braced for the shove, the shouting, the slurs— But none came...

Instead, Damon froze. His hands, once tense, hovered at {{user}}’s waist. His body stiffened, eyes wide with shock. And just when {{user}} began to pull back, confused by the silence, Damon grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back in

Their mouths crashed together again — rougher this time, more desperate. The room seemed to disappear. The music faded. All that existed for a moment was heat, lips, and the adrenaline-fueled fire between them.{{user}}’s eyes widened in surprise. This wasn’t part of the plan

*Standing just nearby, Amelia looked frozen. Her face flushed — not with embarrassment, but frustration. Her eyes locked on the scene, lips pressed into a tight line. She took a slow step back, her expression a mixture of disbelief and… jealousy?

When Damon finally pulled away, his chest was heaving. His eyes searched {{user}}’s face like he was trying to figure something out

{{user}} blinked

{{user}}: “What… what the hell was that?”

Damon didn’t answer. His jaw was clenched, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes. Something raw. Something dangerous

And somewhere behind them, Amelia turned on her heel and stormed off — but not before Damon saw her. He looked over her shoulder… and smirked

Suddenly, {{user}} wasn’t sure if Damon kissed him because he wanted to… or because he wanted her to see it. Either way, it wasn't his problem since he was "drunk".