13 with dennor please-- (bc your writing is like really good and i like it a lot and hhh *many thumbs up*)
Of all the things that Sindre could have ordered him to do, Magnus was feeling many mixed emotions to his best friend’s tenth “request”.
Ever since Sindre had won the bet that past Friday, a bet on who could drown the most shots, Magnus had to own up to his loss. And do whatever favour Sindre asked of him for 15 days.
It wasn’t the first time they had made bets like this. Magnus had won a similar one when they were 16, and he’d enjoyed a full month without having to do his homework or study for his exams without Sindre there to help him.
The first few requests had been simple. Hold the cat while Sindre clips its claws, fix the door to Sindre’s art-room that was close to falling off the hinges, bake Sindre his favourite cake, things of the sort that Magnus would gladly have done or helped with anyway.
But this request made Magus sit back and think, the words spinning around in his head as the gears in his brain tried to work out what he should feel. Confusion? Surprise? Delight? Eagerness?
With the inside of his head buzzing like a beehive, Sindre sat across from him on the living room couch in the apartment they shared, staring at him and trying to tell if it was Magnus head processing his request for a kiss, or if it was the bottle of wine slowing him down. Sindre himself was slowly starting to feel the effects of it, but he was nowhere near drunk yet.
“This isn’t a game of chess, Magnus,” the sound of Sindre’s voice snapped Magnus out of his trance and look up at him. His mind had settled on two feelings; confusion and excitement.
He’d long wished to kiss his friend, but he never wanted to force it. Sindre was hard to read at times, and Magnus was not less happy of the thought of them remaining close friends and nothing more. But at the same time, he was confused. Was it just Sindre talking while drunk? Was it a new side-effect of drinking red wine? Or did Sindre have the same hidden feelings as him?
“The clock is ticking, and my lips are getting awfully dry here,” Sindre leaned closer to him, so close that Magnus could feel his breath on his lips.
“Do I have to request it again? I know you like me, I’ve heard you-” “As you wish,” Magnus cut him off, gently cupping Sindre’s cheek as their lips were locked together.