ukyt oneshots !

the cold hit harder than expected. you'd assumed, stupidly, that a few pints would be enough to keep you warm. that and the constant movement between pubs, the chaotic yelling, the laughter echoing off old glasgow streets. but now, standing still outside pub number six, your hands were tucked under your arms, and your teeth were on the verge of chattering.

the sky was already bruising into a soft navy, and the air had that unmistakable glasgow bite. you swayed a little on your feet, the kind of drunk that makes the ground feel slightly tilted, and stephen noticed.

"if you're so cold, you should've just said," he muttered beside you, not quite slurring but definitely looser than usual.

before you could reply, he was shrugging off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders. it was warm, lined with something soft, and smelled like his cologne.

you blinked up at him, surprised. "won't you be cold?"

he shrugged again, like it didn't matter. "i'm powered by sarcasm and lager. i'll survive."

you smiled, a little soft around the edges now, tucking the jacket closer. it was far too big on you, sleeves swallowing your hands.

"well this is adorable," came arthur's voice, his words slightly slurred, face flushed with drink. he was pointing at you two with a ridiculous grin. "stephen giving jackets, y/n looking like a child lost in a coat—love is in the air."

"shut it, arthur," stephen said without looking at him.

arthur kept giggling. "you two are so obvious."

you and stephen didn't say anything to that. not really. just stood there in the cold, the sound of the production crew chatting by the door, the wind carrying bits of music from the last pub.

"thanks," you said quietly, glancing up at him.

his eyes met yours, a little more serious now, something thoughtful sitting just behind the alcohol. "anytime."

————

the taxi ride back to the airbnb was quiet, the kind of quiet that only comes after hours of loud. stephen sat beside you in the backseat, his knee bumping yours every time the car hit a pothole. arthur was in the front, snoring lightly, head pressed against the cold window, arms folded like a sulky toddler who'd overdosed on pints and poorly made jokes.

stephen's jacket was still draped over your shoulders, now zipped halfway up like it had just claimed you for itself. you didn't say anything when you caught him glancing over again. didn't say anything when your hands stayed curled into the sleeves like they belonged there.

"so," he said after a long minute, voice low. "you gonna give that back?"

you turned to him, expression unreadable. "do you want it back?"

he studied you for a second, eyes a little glassy from the drinks but still sharp beneath it. "no," he said finally. "not really."

you smiled to yourself and leaned your head back against the seat.

it wasn't even midnight by the time everyone stumbled into the airbnb. someone had picked up chips on the walk in, and the smell of salt and vinegar quickly overtook the little living room.

arthur collapsed on one end of the sofa. chris was on the floor, still determined to calculate pub golf scores on his phone, mumbling to himself about someone being "three under par with no sense of dignity."

you stood awkwardly near the kitchen, watching everyone dissolve into that specific kind of drunken chaos that only comes with group trips. stephen appeared next to you, two bottles in hand. he passed one to you wordlessly.

"do you always do this?" you asked, nodding toward the chaos, sipping from the bottle.

"surround myself with idiots and hope something funny happens?" he asked. "pretty much."

you laughed, then nudged him with your elbow. "you like it."

"i like some of it," he said, looking at you now. "some people."

the words hung there for a second too long.

you looked down at the bottle in your hand, then up at him. "am i one of the 'some'?"

he tilted his head. "are you fishing for compliments, or are you just asking if i like you while wearing my jacket in my personal space?"

you grinned. "both."

stephen took a slow sip of his drink. "yeah," he said, not even pretending to be casual now. "i like you."

you didn't say anything. just took another sip.

then leaned in.

it wasn't a dramatic kiss, or even a particularly sober one. it was slow and a little clumsy, like two people finally giving in to something that had been obvious for too long. his hand found your waist. yours tugged gently at the collar of his jacket.

when you pulled back, stephen looked genuinely dazed.

"i knew the jacket was a move," he muttered, half to himself.

you smirked. "was it?"

"no. but i'm gonna pretend it was."

and neither of you noticed arthur waking up on the couch just in time to dramatically fake snore and yell, "called it!" before passing out again.

844 words