Friend-Zoned: AmericaXReader

The two of you had fallen asleep on your bed – you and your best friend Alfred. He stared at the ceiling, feeling your warm, steady breath leave his lips as you turned over in your sleep, curling up on your side. He looked at you, craning his neck to be able to see you better and took in your messy hair and skin dappled with the moonlight coming in from the window. No more all night video game fests like you had been used to doing. College was starting soon after all. The two of you had just been trying to catch up on old times before you were sent off in different directions. You would go to your college and Alfred would go to his. You were rooming together too. Your parents were perfectly fine with it. You had been friends since diapers, but it was strange for you since the two of you had never slept on the same bed before.

Sitting up, Alfred swung his legs out of bed and hunched over, putting his head in his hands. This was all so... so confusing. He couldn't keep doing this. He couldn't keep pretending that everything you ever said to him in those moments together meant nothing to him. He cared deeply for you. He couldn't forget the time and the feelings. He remembered the jealousy he felt when he saw you dating other people and it made his insides burn with red hot fury of something akin to a volcano or a lava pit. He couldn't ever look into your eyes and ignore the memories of them next to him, the bright and smiling expression on your face, your laughter ringing in his ears. Alfred ground the palm of his hand into his eyes.

"Why...?"

The bed shifted, and Alfred assumed you were moving around again, snuggling close for warmth like you had whenever he tried to move away from you, but a slender hand touched his shoulder – your hand touched his shoulder. He turned and saw that you were looking at him, sleepily and confused. You didn't realize it but you made him groan in frustration. He was fighting the urge to kiss you senseless. However, that would be something that he shouldn't have done. He was your best friend, not your boyfriend. He had been friend-zoned time and time again despite how many times he had tried to hint to you that he liked you more than a friend but you had not noticed. You blinked owlishly as you stared at him.

"Are you alright?"

Alfred stared at you. His fingers tangled in the sheets at his side as he resisted the temptation to seize you and hug you tightly into his chest, fighting the urge to kiss you, to whisper sweet nothings in your ears. He shook his head. You weren't his to cherish like that thought the thought hurt. You didn't know how beautiful you were, and would sometimes yell at him for looking at you for too long, jokingly you always assured but Alfred wasn't so sure sometimes. You frustrated him to no end sometimes. He didn't think he could continue to watch you date other people as you roomed together through college. He knew you would date too. He was furious when he found that Francis had cheated on you in your senior year. He had punched the Frenchman and nearly got kicked out of school for starting a fight.

"No."

You stared at him, taken back by the blunt statement. You slowly sat up. You were worried about your friend. You had a crush on him but would never say it aloud. You would rather shoot yourself in the foot before you lost the friendship between the two of you. You would rather die than lose Alfred so it was better to be friend-zoned than have it lost forever. You had been delighted when your parents let you house with Alfred for college. Hopefully, it would give you the chance to see how he really felt about you. Alfred had fallen asleep first while you were playing video games. You took advantage of that fact and curled up next to Alfred, sleeping as well. Just because you were going to two different colleges, your house was in between the two schools. You would see each other in between classes and in the evenings.

"Oh. Would you like to talk about it?" you asked.

Yes, Alfred thought. He wanted to scream the answer to the skies. His hands were now white knuckled in the sheets, attempting to fight the urge to tell you how he really felt about you. You were special. You deserved to have someone sweep you off your feet and he was probably not the one to do it but he wanted to be the one. You wanted to hear what it was that was bothering him. Touched him gently, trying to make him look at you, relent his hold on your sheets. He might just have ripped the sheets with the sheer amount of pressure he was putting on them. You didn't want him to keep things sealed off from you.

"It's not important," he said aloud.

It was more than important. Alfred couldn't pretend anymore. He wouldn't. His hands untangled from the sheets. You stiffened when his hands gently eased around the back of your neck and head. Then he kissed you.

And you kissed back.