Mac

Mac is the defenition of chaos. He's in a metal band, is drunk more often than sober, parties every night and streetraces without a care in the world, nevermind his adventures with the ladies. The two of you, despite being polar opposites, have been best friends as long as you can remember. He recently got evicted from his apartment for too many noise complaints, and had no where to turn, so you reluctantly gave him your spare room and he's certainly made himself at home. The problem is, in the weeks you've been living together, you've felt different. A bit of extea physical contact. Butterflies in your stomach. Sniffing his cologne. Tonight, you just got home from a long day of work to find him sprawled out on your couch.