Work Text:
Oliver is typing away on his computer when his cellphone buzzes on the coffee table.
Come meet me at the rooftop, the message reads.
What are you doing there? And when did you even get here?
Get up here and we’ll talk.
Okay, so that was weird.
He picks up a jacket and locks the door on his way out.
“Connor?” he asks, as soon as he opens the door leading to the rooftop of his building.
“Here,” he hears to his left.
“What’s that?” he asks, pointing at the lit joint in Connor’s hand.
“What does it look like?”
“Is that why you’re up here?”
“Among other reasons, yes,” the other man replies, taking another drag.
Oliver sits down beside him, watching the smoke leave Connor’s lips. He shakes his head.
“Bad day at work?”
“Yup.”
“Wanna talk about it?” he prods, and pretends his ass isn’t going to freeze up here.
But Connor opens up to him in between inhales and exhales. And his shoulders don’t seem as tense by the end of it. Oliver isn’t sure if it was the talking or the drugs that helped with that, but either way, he looks more relaxed now.
Connor is looking at what’s left of his joint before thrusting it in front of Oliver’s face.
“Uh… no, thank you. You can have it.”
The other man turns slightly to face him, a frown deeply set on his forehead.
“Don’t tell me you never…” he paused, closing his mouth and shaking his head at him. “Don’t answer. You should definitely try it now. It’s just you and me here.”
“You, me and the rest of the people who have a direct view to this rooftop,” he says.
Connor chuckles, before pulling hard on the lapel of Oliver’s jacket, almost making him crash into him and sending both to the floor.
“Easy there!”
“Come on. We’ll try it in a different way,” he insists, taking a drag before pulling Oliver’s face toward him.
His thumb pulls on his bottom lip and Oliver, getting the hint, opens his mouth to him.
Connor blows the smoke into Oliver’s mouth and then presses under his chin, so he’ll close it.
“Hold it in. Let it settle in your lungs a bit and then exhale,” he instructs. But Oliver knows this, okay? He’s never done it, but he knows the mechanics of it.
It feels weird, and at first he’s trying hard not to cough, but he manages to pull through. There’s a burning sensation in his chest, the smoke flowing into his lungs and settling, just like Connor told him. He starts to feel a pressure in his chest after a few seconds, and soon enough he’s letting it all out with the need to breathe again.
“Good,” Connor says, eyes fixed on his lips while his fingers are still dragging against the smooth skin of his jaw.
He pulls away briefly and eyes his joint again.
“I think this is gonna be the last one, so let’s make it good, okay?”
Oliver nods and then watches as Connor pulls the smoke in one last time, before flicking the joint away. His hand is already pulling on Oliver’s neck to bring their faces closer again. But this time, instead of keeping their open mouths apart, Connor kisses him, while somehow still pushing the smoke into Oliver’s mouth.
He’s slightly confused for a moment, but follows his instincts, breathing it in and trying to keep up with Connor’s fast and hot lips.
Soon enough the other man is pulling away and Oliver frowns. Connor chuckles and blows clear air on his face and Oliver realizes he’s still holding his breath. He exhales and coughs a little, shaking his head. The law student shouldn’t be such a distraction.
He looks back at Connor and he’s pretty sure he’s now starting to feel the effects of it.
“Starting to get good now?”
But Oliver is lost in those smiling eyes.
The other man is grinning at him, getting up on his knees and straddling him. There’s a protest on the tip of his tongue, but he’s not sure what he’s supposed to be protesting against. Not when Connor sits on his lap and grabs his face again.
And then they’re kissing. And whoa, this is nice.
His hands find the small of Connor’s back and hold onto his shirt.
Connor’s hands don’t stop, though. There’s one grabbing his hair, pulling on it just so, and the other one is sliding down his chest, drawing a moan from his throat when it rubs against his nipple.
It continues moving downward, and Connor whines against his mouth when Oliver’s fingers dig into his back in response to wandering hands and moving hips.
His head thuds back against the concrete wall, and it both settles and mixes up his brain all at once.
“We should probably move this somewhere else.”
Connor his now nipping at his jaw, hips still moving against his crotch.
“Why? We’re so comfortable here.”
And Oliver gets lost in his kiss again, hands now pulling Connor’s shirt out of his pants and touching warm skin. Connor shivers against him, inching closer, chests touching in the midst of frantic thrusts.
But then he pulls on Oliver’s hair again, and this time the back of his head hits the wall with a little too much force.
“Yeah, no, we aren’t,” he says, reluctantly pushing the other man away.
“You’re a spoilsport, Oliver,” he replies with a pout, but gets up nonetheless and even offers him a hand.
“I just think we did enough illegal things for today. Don’t want to get arrested because someone decided to come to their window and found us blowing each other’s minds off on this rooftop.”
Connor bites his lip and throws him that sly glance of his.
“And wouldn’t that be hot?” he asks in a low voice, walking backwards and pulling on Oliver’s hand.
“I don’t think the police would agree.”
“You’d be surprised, dear.”
He’s still not sure how they managed, but they made it downstairs without accidentally cracking their skulls open.
His hand is shaking when he tries to fit the key in the lock, but that’s mostly due to the fact that Connor can’t seem to get his hands off of him for a second, no matter how much he pleads him.
“Connor, give it a rest.”
But he doesn’t, really. He’s biting at the back of his neck, one hand on his chest and the other pushing past his pants.
“Ooookay! I think I got it.”
He finally opens the door and gets into his apartment, Connor following closely behind, as he’d expected. He’s on him almost immediately.
“Damn, I didn’t think you could get hornier, but you still manage to surprise me every time, huh?”
Connor bites softly into the skin of his neck, hands already fumbling with the front of his pants.
“What can I say, you have that effect on me.”
He pulls back to unbutton his shirt and Oliver pulls his sweater off, trying not to stumble on his now slightly weak legs.
“Oh, so now this is my fault?”
The other man finally gets rid of his shirt, tugging on Oliver’s open pants to pull him closer and licking his way into his mouth.
They’re shuffling their feet, kissing dirtily, and then the world tilts on its axis.
Or they fall to the bed. Details he can’t be bothered with right now.
Connor wastes no time taking both of their pants off, before getting back on top of Oliver. And, damn, he’s never been so aroused in his life. His brain is lost in a cloudy pleasure.
But he’s also confused, because Connor just stopped there, hovering above him and touching his face.
“Man, you have a great facial structure.”
And Oliver can’t help but throw his head back and laugh loudly at that revelation.
“Gosh, you’re weird when you’re high.”
“You’re weird all the time.”
He bites Connor’s lips.
“Yes, but it’s nothing new with me. You, on the other hand, are not usually like this.”
Connor sits back on his heels.
“Is that bad?” he asks in an uncharacteristically insecure tone.
Oliver sits up, arms curling around the other man’s lower back and pulling him into another deep kiss.
“Not at all. I’m just not used to it. I like this side of you. In fact, I think I might like every side of you,” he adds, hands moving up and down the other man’s sides.
“I’m glad, then, because I like all of your sides, too. And your beautifully structured face. Also your big white smile.”
“Okay, Nicholas Sparks. Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”
With a lopsided grin on his face, Connor pushes him back down on the bed, straddling him again.
“Thought you’d never ask.”