People didn’t take the best decisions while intoxicated, Axel knew that much. He knew how it was best to just remain in a corner, talking with a few of his friends once he noticed he had drank a little too much. It usually worked, he went back home after a few hours of no major occurrences, and suffered from a horrible hangover the day after.

However, this time, staying by his closest friend would be the worst mistake of the night. You and him had been friends for a little over three years; enough time to truly get to know one another—and even for something more to flourish. Yet whatever those stolen glances meant, both of you decided to ignore it.

Until last night, that was. A bar in the heart of New York City, and a few drinks later, and you found yourself waking up somewhere that wasn’t your home. Shit. The Frank Ocean vinyl on the wall, the distinct rug on the floor; this was Axel’s house.

You sat up, looking around, and soon finding the sight of your friend standing by the bathroom door. “Uh, ‘sup…” His gaze shifted to the floor, an attempt to reduce all awkwardness. “Coffee?”