Random One Shots

Random one shots with actors, musicians/bands and characters.

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133. Chris Evans 8

~Chris was familiar enough with the bar scene. He knew how people acted when they got drunk. He knew that about three-quarters of the men who frequented this particular establishment tended to develop a sense of self-entitlement when it came to setting their sights on a particular woman. Typically, the bartender would kick them out. Occasionally, they’d get maced, and then the bartender would kick them out. Prowling for women wasn’t something Chris was interested in, let alone doing it in a bar.
There was one woman, though, that definitely caught his eye. Every Friday night for the last month, he’d go to the same place and have a few drinks. Sometimes he went with a friend of his, other times with one of his siblings. The first two times were just because Scott had grown fond of the place and refused to let Chris spent a Friday night at home. But when he saw her, he decided it needed to be a regular thing. Part of him wanted her to approach first, but another part was waiting for him to work up the courage to go talk to her.
He watched, week after week, as she shut down every guy that approached her. She’d roll her eyes and turn back to her friend, or she’d tell whichever tool stopped by to go to hell. They were always trying to get her drunk, take her home, or at least buy her a drink. Most guys waited until she was alone, but her friend would always butt in, cutting the conversation short. That was a bit intimidating for Chris. He didn’t want to get shot down if he could avoid it.
But tonight… Tonight was different. He came in alone, and it looked like she had too. So this was the time for him to make his move, right?
Chris moved cautiously but deliberately, narrowly avoiding the row of chairs. His eyes never left her, though she was staring down at her phone. It felt like his heart was about to beat itself right out of his chest. The struggle of it against his rib cage set his teeth on edge. Sweat beaded in his palms, and he had to fight not to wipe them against his jeans until he absolutely had to. No way was he going to shake her hand with waterlogged hands.
She must’ve felt him staring, because she when she looked up, her eyes settled on his. Those flawless lips of hers curled into a soft smile as he approached. The toe of one shoe hitched on his ankle, and he stumbled slightly, bumping someone’s chair. He quickly apologized, regaining his composure. Shit, Evans. That was real fuckin’ smooth.
The smile playing on her mouth morphed into a grin as she casted her gaze down for a moment. He knew she was stifling a laugh. Chris stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, tensing his shoulders. She’s never going to talk to me. Fuckin’ ski feet, dude. God damn it.
When he stopped beside her table, that sweet look returned. He scrubbed his palm against the fabric of his pocket before whipping his hand out, putting it right in front of her.
“I can’t keep walking passed you without introducing myself,” he managed to get out. “I’m Chris.” Though he already knew her name, he let her reply and shake his hand. Her palm felt like silk against his calloused flesh, and it sent a ribbon of chills up his spine.
“Would it be awfully cliché for me to ask if I could buy you a drink?” Her expression softened even further, but she still maintained the same look.
“I’d like that.” Well, then… Chris wasn’t expecting that. Normally, she turned away free drinks from strangers. “You know, you’re the first guy to actually ask.” His eyebrows shot up, almost high enough to meld with his hairline.
“Seriously?” She nodded gravely, raising her empty bottle to the bartender. Chris couldn’t see him, but she held up two fingers. Within a few minutes, two fresh, cold beers were on the table. Chris slipped him a twenty, telling him to keep the change. Once he walked away, Chris eyed the condensation on the drinks. He could tell his cheeks were aflame just by the heat radiating as his nimble fingers combed over his beard.
“Is it alright with you if I sit down with you?” A foreign apprehension in his voice was startling even to him. His anxiety ebbed, though, as she gestured with an open palm to the chair across from her. She nudged it out with her foot, and he plopped down, scooting back up to the table.
“Seems like I see you hear a lot, Chris,” she said plainly, taking a long swig of her beer. He chuckled, thumbing a stripe of fog from the glass of his own bottle.
“Yeah, it’s one of my brother’s favorite places. He can’t stand spending a Friday night in the house.” A look of realization washed over her face and she tipped her head back slightly.
“You’re Scott’s brother, aren’t you? The big famous actor guy?” The severity of his burning cheeks increased tenfold, and he looked back at his drink, palming the label.
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far, but… Wait, you know Scott?” Her eyebrows pressed upwards as she pulled the rim of the bottle away from her lips. There was a hard swallow coupled with a loose laugh.
“Scott comes in all the time. He’s actually spent the last few months telling me everything under the sun about you.” Chris’ throat tightened for a second, and he swore he was about to choke on his drink. Typical Scott. Always trying to pair me off with someone.
“Oh no,” he muttered, shaking his head. More anxious chuckles erupted from his throat. “I hope he hasn’t embarrassed me too much.”
“He knows what you ‘wike’, that’s for sure,” she retorted, bumping his shin with her foot.
“Shit… Of course he had to tell you about that.”
*
“Shit… Of course he had to tell you about that,” Chris chuckled, scrubbing a hand over his scruffy chin. You drummed your fingers against the glass. He’s cute when he’s flustered.
“He’s been telling me about you for months, actually. Every Friday night for the last five months, he’d open a tab and sit down with me, and we’d have a few beers together while he talked you up. Actually, he was just doing that last week when he came in with you.” You shot him a playful wink over the bottle’s rim and took a long sip. His hand came to rest on his forehead as he whispered a quiet ‘oh no’. The blush on his cheeks began to spread, blending into the edges of his beard.
“Oh my God, that’s so embarrassing…” Reaching over, you pulled his hand away from his face. You held it in your own on top of the table, trying you best to be reassuring.
“Maybe, but at least he did a good job,” you snorted. He cocked his head to the side, giving you an incredulous smile. It looked like relief and anticipation of what was to come, and that was something that, in turn, magnified your smile to the point of nearly painful.
“Seriously? Scott? He didn’t take the opportunity to totally humiliate me? Wow, that’s a first.” He chuckled, spinning his bottle around with his free hand. You hummed in approval, pushing your own empty one to the edge of the table.
“I never said that. I just said he did a good job.”
“That little shit. What did he tell you?” You looked at your fingernails for a second, stalling. He slipped his fingers out of yours and placing his palm against the back of your hand. His stare was insistent. “Oh, come on! If he’s telling embarrassing stories about me, I deserve to know, right?”
With an earnest laugh, you drew your hand back, signaling Jared for another pair of beers.
“Well, where do I start? He told me about your god awful prank that ended up in him wetting himself. Also the Disney parties with your nephew. Something about terrible school pictures, you modeling for a cheesy board game, and your brief stint as a drag queen on national television. He also might have mentioned your man-crush on the Romanian kid you worked with.” You weren’t sure that his face could get any redder, but when your pensive stare turned back to him, it had. Again, he buried his face in his hands, raking one through his hair.
“I’m gonna kick his ass when I get home,” Chris muttered with a mortified laugh. “And there’s nothing wrong with appreciating how attractive other men are.” You shook your head.
“Oh, trust me, I know. He just said you won’t admit it.” He glanced at his watch quickly, grinning.
“At least he didn’t tell you about… Er, I’ve really enjoyed this, y’know. Still got some things to do tonight, and I’m sorry to be so forward, but are you busy tomorrow night?” That put you into panic mode. Guys like Chris don’t go for girls like me. He looked genuine, sincere, but would that be enough?
“Look, Chris… We don’t have to fall in love; you don’t have to meet my mom, and we don’t have to make this a frequent thing. We don’t have to go dancing or spend the night together. This doesn’t have to turn into anything if you don’t want it to, and-”
“Right now, all I want is some time alone with you. Will you let me take you out? Y’know, for dinner? It’s only a little after nine, and I know a great place nearby.”
“Thought you had things to do tonight?”
“Nothing that can’t wait ‘til tomorrow. Let’s go.”
 

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