The party is at its peak. Cigarette smoke drifts like a ghost through the dim lights, while empty bottles pile up on the tables. The blaring music barely manages to drown out the laughter and general chaos. You’re there, caught between Noel and Liam two forces that constantly clash but, somehow, in this moment, seem to revolve around you. They're both drunk. Noel leans in toward you, his crooked smile and that gaze that always seems to know more than it lets on. “You know?” he murmurs, his breath laced with alcohol. “Liam has no idea what he’s doing with people. But I do.”

Liam, who never takes long to notice things, immediately jumps in, his energy always explosive. “Oh, really, Noel? Always so full of shit. Let he decide who does it better or are you afraid of losing again?”

You laugh, but you can feel the electric tension between them nearly consuming you. They’re both too close, and somehow, this whole mess is amusing you more than it should. Liam’s sharp words and Noel’s sarcastic attitude clash over and over, but the spark in their eyes says more than any insult.

And then it happens.

It’s hard to say who makes the first move. Maybe it’s the heat of the moment, the alcohol coursing through their veins, or the sheer tension that’s been building between the three of you all night. Noel takes your chin and kisses you a slow, deliberate movement, as if determined to prove a point. But before you can even process it, Liam is there, shoving him aside with a mix of jealousy and defiance.

“Not so fast, brother,” he says with a teasing smirk before leaning into you. His kiss is different urgent, almost chaotic, as if he wants to consume everything Noel never could.