WANTED A FLING BUT IT'S A NIGHT

Author’s Note:

“Wanted a Fling but It’s a Night” is more than just a story—it’s a journey through raw emotions, hidden fears, and the kind of love that finds you when you least expect it. Writing this book took me out of my comfort zone and deep into the hearts of two boys who are trying to figure out where they belong—in the world and in each other’s lives.

Asher and Rhett are messy, flawed, and real. Through them, I wanted to explore how trauma shapes us, how love can soften the hardest walls, and how connection doesn’t always start perfect—but it can grow into something powerful. This story is for anyone who’s ever been afraid to feel too much, love too deeply, or hope again after heartbreak.

Thank you for picking up this book. I hope it stays with you, long after the last page.

With all my heart,

Ommafavvy❤️🕯️

Trigger Warnings

This story contains themes and scenes that may be sensitive for some readers, including:

Emotional trauma

Parental neglect and rejection (especially related to queerness)

Fear of abandonment

Alcohol use

Mentions of past cheating and heartbreak

Mild sexual content

Anxiety and sleeping difficulties due to past trauma

Homophobia (verbal and implied)

Reader discretion is advised. Please take care of your heart while reading. 🖤

CHAPTER ONE

The door creaked open, slow and uncertain, just like Asher’s first steps into the room.

The light from the corridor bled into the small dorm space, casting soft gold on the floor tiles and the empty bed across from his. His chest tightened. Quiet. Too quiet. Zayn wasn’t here yet.

He stepped in, dragging his box behind him, its wheels grating softly against the floor. The air smelled faintly like new paint and detergent—sterile, nothing like home.

He dropped his duffel bag, stood still for a moment, and looked around. Two beds. Two desks. Two wardrobes. White curtains. Blank walls.

One heart beating faster than it should.

Asher exhaled. “Okay. You’re fine. It’s just school.”

The silence disagreed.

A sudden BANG!

The door burst open again.

“Asher, baby boy!”

Asher flinched. Then laughed.

“Zayn.”

Zayn bounded into the room like he owned the whole dormitory block. Sunglasses on his forehead, earphones tangled around his neck, wearing a bright yellow hoodie that screamed trouble.

“You’re late!” Zayn said, pulling him into a dramatic hug. “You were supposed to come yesterday. I thought you bailed on me.”

“I had stuff to sort at home,” Asher mumbled into his chest. “Mom cried. Twice.”

Zayn smirked, pulling back to look at him. “Classic. You look like someone who hasn’t seen sunlight in days. Have you eaten?”

“Barely.”

“That’s a crime. A party’s the cure.”

Asher groaned. “No, no. I literally just got here. I haven’t even unpacked.”

Zayn was already digging through his own wardrobe. “Nope. You’re coming. It’s the freshers’ welcome party tonight. Free drinks. Music. People. You need to meet people.”

“Zayn…”

“Asher.” Zayn turned, serious now. “Look. You’ve lived in your head too long. You said this year was gonna be different. So start here. Start tonight.”

Asher sat on the edge of his bed, rubbing his temples. “Fine. But one drink. And I’m not dancing.”

Zayn grinned. “That’s what they all say.”

They got to the party an hour later. The house off-campus was already heaving with sound—music loud enough to make the windows tremble. Bodies pressed together in heat and rhythm. Colorful lights splashed across the walls like neon waves.

Asher stood awkwardly near the entrance, holding a red cup like it was foreign.

Zayn nudged him. “Chill. Loosen up. Try the punch. Don’t ask what’s in it.”

“I’m not sure I should—”

“I’ll be around. Probably. Might vanish. Don’t panic.”

“What do you mean?”

Zayn winked. “I mean, I might not sleep in the room tonight. Depends on how the night goes.”

Asher blinked. “Wait—Zayn, you know I—”

“I know, I know. You don’t sleep alone. If I’m not coming back, I’ll text. Promise.”

Then he was gone. Swallowed into the crowd.

Asher took a sip of the punch. Sweet. Then bitter. His head already spun a little.

He tried to dance. Someone offered him another drink. He accepted. The lights blurred. The music pulsed through his spine.

Then—

A scream. A sudden scream near the kitchen.

People scattered. Laughter followed.

"RAT! THERE’S A RAT!"

Someone jumped onto a chair. Cups spilled. A bottle shattered.

Asher stumbled backward, his drink sloshing down his wrist. And in the chaos, just as he turned to move—

He crashed into someone. Hard.

Tall. Solid. Cool skin. Black shirt clinging to muscle.

Asher blinked up. Eyes like frost.

“Watch it,” the guy said flatly.

“I—I’m sorry.”

The guy didn’t move immediately. He looked at Asher like he was trying to solve a puzzle. Then he tilted his head.

“Freshman?”

Asher nodded slowly.

The guy sighed. “You here with someone?”

Asher blinked, still swaying a little. “Yeah… I came with my friend. But he bailed on me.”

The guy gave a slow, unreadable nod. Then he said, “Come on.”

Asher blinked again. “What?”

“I’m giving you a ride home. You’re done for tonight.”

He didn’t know the guy’s name. But somehow, he followed.