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“You’re fucking kidding me!” If Mitch hears him over the cheers that goes up as Naz completes what is a truly spectacular kegstand, he makes no show of it, still waving the bottle of tequila in Connor’s face like it’s supposed to be an incentive. “Mitchy,” he swats at the bottle, laughing despite himself as Mitch dances momentarily out of reach- and into a pair of new pledges. The pledges fall over themselves to apologize but Mitch has already forgotten them, just this side of too drunk to notice. He tries again. “Mitchy, go ask Willy.”
Mitch pouts, apparently he managed to hear that, but if there’s anyone at the party willing to get up on the table for body shots, it’s Willy. Any excuse to be shirtless at one of their fraternities parties and he’ll take it. They’d discovered early on that if you added a little booze, Willy’s past life as a stripper appeared. He’d gotten better after their first year at the house, and usually still had his boxers on by the end of the night.
“Willy’s upstairs with Zach!” Mitch shouts. He turns his big blue eyes on Connor, lower lip jutting out and wobbling- the cheater.
“You could literally ask anyone else.”
“Yeah, but I want you.” Mitch sways into his space and Connor’s eyebrows shoot up. Mitch giggles a little. He might have been wrong, he’s way past just this side of too drunk. Connor really needs to catch up. “It’ll be fun!” He wheedles, pressing the tequila bottle against Connor’s chest. “You never do it.”
“What about Auston?” He suggests, gaze bouncing around the room like maybe he can find him in the throng of bodies packed into their living room. No such luck. He does spot Freddie talking to a petite brunette with big boobs. He’s got a pleased grin on his face, his hand on her hip as she sways into his orbit.
Okay. Fuck it, Connor is too sober for this party.
Mitch cackles when he takes the tequila bottle from him and takes a long drag. He nearly comes up spluttering from the burn but the warmth hits him fast. The room spins for a moment but he shakes it off easily. He takes another quick shot before Mitch steals it back with a grin.
“You’ll thank me for this later,” Mitch promises. Connor gives him what he hopes is his most disbelieving look. “C’mon, up!” He ushers Connor over to the kitchen table they’d dragged in, pushing the bowls of snacks out of the way to make space for him. They don’t have to do much- Kappy had been sprawled out on it earlier, enjoying the attention of a few seniors from the sorority down the street, but Mitch makes a show of sweeping away the crumbs and a few empties that some jackass hadn’t bothered to toss in the bin.
Connor tugs his t-shirt over his head and then lays down on the rickety wooden surface. It’s sticky against his skin from the booze they’d poured over Kappy and he’s glad he left his jeans on for this. He startles at Mitch’s cold fingers as he yanks Connor’s jeans lower, until they sit indecently low on his hips.
“Gotta give them what they want, right?” He winks, flicking Connor’s happy trail just to be a dick. Then, he pours a shot of tequila right in Connor’s belly button without any warning. Connor yelps but it’s all background noise as Mitch hollars, “Body shots on Brownie!” as loud as he can. A cheer goes up.
Mitch grins, hands him the bottle and ducks his head, lips and tongue slurping up the tequila warming on his skin.
It’s a fucking weird feeling. And kind of awesome? He flushes as his best friend licks and sucks the tequila from his skin and takes a swig from the bottle to take his mind off of it.
“Brownie!” Kappy’s grinning face appears above him. “How the fuck did he talk you into this?”
“He pouted,” he admits and Kappy laughs, bright and infectious. He offers him the tequila. “Want some?”
“Got my own,” Kappy’s grin sharpens and he holds up a bottle of something neon blue. Mitch pulls back and Kappy takes over immediately. He drizzles the radioactive looking liquid between Connor’s collarbone and down, ending in the vicinity of his belt. It immediately starts to run down his sides, his neck. He’s going to need a long shower after this. The liquid is cold and he shivers, and then again as Kappy drags the flat of his tongue along his waistband. Connor bites his lip at the unexpected way his veins sing with the steady drag, digs in harder when Kappy licks a long stripe from his navel to collar, pulling back only long enough to see where he’s missed before diving back in, licking and sucking up any droplets he might have missed. It sure as hell feels showier than it needs to be but Connor can’t find the breath to complain.
Kappy eventually pulls back and he grins down at Connor. He ducks his head, lips brushing Connnor’s ear.
“Feels pretty good, right?”
Connor manages to clear his throat. “Feels sticky.”
Kappy laughs and pulls back, giving his shoulder a quick squeeze.
A pair of pretty blondes take over as soon as he moves away, their smiles wicked.
Connor ends up doing a couple more shots himself, just to keep his mind off the way their mouths feel on his skin but he’s still half hard by the time a few more people have licked their booze off his skin. His skin feels electrified and he feels aware of his chest in a way he normally doesn’t- his nipples pebbled from the chill in the air, from the mouths on his skin. He hadn’t realized how good it felt, hadn’t thought his chest was that much of an erogenous zone, but he’s starting to realize why the guys are always eager to volunteer for this.
He hadn’t been planning on hooking up tonight but maybe he should. He could ride this high, find a hot guy or girl to take upstairs and relax. It would do him some good not agonizing over the unattainable for once.
“Hey,” Auston snags the tequila from his hand as he’s focused on the redhead doing a shot off hip. “You should flex more- chicks love that.”
Connor’s feeling pretty fucking good. He tries it and she giggles as whatever she poured on him slides lower and then under the band of his jeans. He can feel where it soaks into his boxers but she chases after it with a wickedly talented tongue. He nearly bites his own off.
“Good job buddy,” Auston ruffles his hair and Connor tries to come up with something disgusting enough to counteract the arousal that soars through him. She wanders off and he starts to sit up, figuring it’s about time to duck upstairs and calm down.
He wavers a little as he sits up, the booze and blood rushing back to his head, but Auston steadies him with a knowing grin.
“Need an introduction?” He nods in the direction the redhead went. His dick throbs at the memory of her mouth but he shakes his head.
“Nah, man, but thanks.”
Auston eyes him, expression clearly disbelieving.
Connor pats him on the shoulder and scoops up his discarded shirt. He’ll head upstairs and wipe some of this shit off before coming back down. The tequila bottle is basically empty so he leaves it. He glances around for Mitch, but he’s by the kitchen door, talking to Freddie. He gestures expansively with one hand, what looks like a fresh bottle in his other. The brunette from earlier is nowhere to be seen. He wonders if maybe she’s waiting in Freddie’s room upstairs. The jealousy isn’t anything new but it’s ugly and Connor pushes it aside, unwilling to entertain it.
“Oh,” Auston slings an arm around his shoulders. “I get it. Wrong redhead.”
“You’re delusional, Matthews.” He slips out of Auston’s grip with a grin he doesn’t quite feel. “Be back in a bit, I need to clean some of this shit off of me.”
“Is that what kids call jerking off, nowadays?” He chirps. Connor flips him off with an eye roll and heads for the stairs.
He has to duck around Enzo and a dark haired girl making out at the top of the stairs, biting down the urge to chirp them about safety. There’s some pretty enthusiastic sounds coming from Willy’s room but he ignores it with practiced ease. Sparky is puking in the bathroom with the door open, Hutch sitting on the counter ready with water and a washcloth. He waves as Connor passes by, so he figures the situation must be under control.
His room is at the far end of the second floor and the door muffles a fair amount of the noise from the party. He crosses to his bed, in that moment incredibly grateful that he doesn’t have to share anymore, and gets his jeans open and shoved down his thighs before he collapses back onto the mattress.
He hadn’t lied, he does need to wipe some of this shit off- sticky is not something he enjoys. But that can wait.
His jeans have barely hit the floor before he gets a hand on himself.
And then there’s a fucking knock on the door.
He freezes, hand cupping his dick through his boxers, praying breathlessly that whoever it is will go away. The knock comes again. And then the fucking door opens.
He forgot to lock it.
Fuck.
Connor flails for his pillow to cover himself as Freddie slips through the cracked door, pressing it closed behind him.
“What- Freddie?” He gapes at him, frozen in place.
Freddie doesn’t even have the grace to look sheepish, leaning against the door like he didn’t just barge in on Connor jerking off (or attempting to damnit). He’s gorgeous, dressed down in a pair of jeans that hug his thick thighs and a red t-shirt that shows off his strong shoulders and gives his skin a warm hue. His gaze travels around the room, over the shitty desk, the beanbag chair he and Enzo had found at a lawn sale and dragged home last September, and finally to the single bed. And Connor. His lips quirk and he holds up a bottle.
“I couldn’t get away in time for a shot,” he says. “So Mitchy thought you’d be okay with it if I did one now.”
He arches an eyebrow, then slowly, deliberately, reaches behind himself to flick the lock on the door. Connor’s heart is racing in his chest.
“Is it okay?” Freddie prompts, eyes dark and expression hungry. Connor can’t believe he’s not imagining it, not with it directed at him. “Connor?”
He snaps out of it, nodding quickly, probably looking like an idiot. Freddie crosses the space between them quickly, before Connor can get further than sitting up. He tugs the pillow from his grip, his dark gaze roaming across Connor’s flushed face, his chest where he imagines there must be smears of lipstick still, down to his lap where his cock is leaking against the material of his boxers.
Freddie’s hand rests on his thigh and Connor sucks in a sharp breath, the sudden heat unbearable, so close to where he needs it. His thumb rubs at the thin skin of his inner thigh where Connor’s boxers have ridden up and Connor’s cock gives a kick, as impatient as the rest of him.
“Lie down.”
Connor goes easily, eyes wide, unsure of where this is going but willing to see it through. Freddie’s barely touched him but he’s desperately, achingly turned on. He holds up the bottle of tequila with a grin and something about the situation, about Freddie sitting on the edge of his bed about to lick booze off of him, has him finding his tongue again. Freddie is fucking gorgeous, okay? He’s been half in love with him since day one in the house- but Freddie is also Freddie and Connor’s seen him snotty with vomit on his sweater, he can handle Freddie.
“You’re gonna get my sheets covered in that shit.”
Freddie grins, and the hunger is still there but the set of his shoulders eases and he thinks maybe they’re on the same page here.
“I’ll have to be fast.” He doesn’t wait, just pours out the cool liquid and Connor shivers. He makes good on his promise though, ducking his head to drag his tongue along Connor’s chest, catching the droplets before they can escape. His mouth is searing hot and it goes straight to Connor’s dick. He’s not worried as he was before about getting hard from this, he’s already past that point and if the look he gets when Freddie stops to pour out more alcohol, this time in his navel, Freddie’s enjoying the sounds he draws out of him.
He plays it up then, letting out soft exhales and shuddering moans as Freddie drags his lips and teeth and tongue across Connor’s skin. Unmoored he reaches out for something to steady himself and finds Freddie’s shoulder, strong and sturdy, flexing as he pours out another shot that he immediately finds and chases with his mouth.
Connor’s achingly turned on. He can’t remember the last time he was this hard but he supposes it has something to do with it being Freddie. He’d never considered he’d have a shot with him. He’s never been so happy to be proven wrong.
“Fred,” he squeezes Freddie’s shoulder, slides around to cup the back of his neck as those wicked lips trail across his chest, teeth grazing his nipple. He shudders, grip tightening, so Freddie repeats the process with the other. “Please,” he doesn’t even know what he’s asking for anymore.
There’s a thump as the tequila bottle gets deposited on the floor and then Freddie shifts, fast enough to startle him, coming to rest between Connor’s thighs. He uses his shoulders to make space for himself, laying on his belly. He traces lightly over Connor’s trapped erection, eyes wide and dark as he meets Connor’s gaze.
“Can I?” He toys with the edge of Connor’s boxers and he nearly gives himself whiplash nodding. He helps Freddie get them off and tossed on the floor, then settles back against the pillows as Freddie’s big hands curl around his hips, holding him steady.
“You’re gorgeous,” he murmurs, his stubble catching as he nuzzles Connor’s cock. Connor has to bite his fist to keep from shouting, his dick leaking precome and balls drawn up tight. Freddie’s plush lips part and he mouths at the head, his tongue flicking against the slit. Connor shifts restlessly, Freddie’s big hands holding him steady. Freddie’s mouth is warm and wet and bliss as he sinks slowly further down on Connor’s cock, eyes fluttering shut like he can’t get enough of it. It’s heady, a power rush and Connor sobs, overcome, scrambling for Freddie’s shoulders to keep himself steady.
Freddie keeps it slick and tight, and he moves his grip from Connor’s hips, planting one hand on his belly to keep him in place as he uses the other to jerk Connor off as sweet and slow as his mouth.
Connor pants up at the ceiling because the image of Freddie with his mouth stuffed full of Connor’s dick is proving to be too much, but it doesn’t help, he’s still going to come too soon.
“Freddie,” he tugs at his hair, tries to warn him as the tension coils tighter and tighter. “I’m gonna, I can’t,”
Freddie’s gaze flickers up, holds his and Connor comes with a shout, back arching from the force of it.
Freddie swallows him down, keeping the same steady pressure as Connor sinks back against the pillows, rung out and shaking. Only then does he ease off, pressing one last lingering kiss to the dip of Connor’s hip. He sits up, still between Connor’s thighs as Connor catches his breath. He looks his fill, at the sweat beading Freddie’s brow, his red, swollen lips. His cock must be aching with the way it’s pressing against his jeans.
He licks his lips and holds out a hand. Freddie takes it easily, lets Connor pull him close, slumping next to him on the small bed. His hands are shaking as he reaches for Freddie’s jeans, from adrenaline, from just coming, who knows.
They haven’t even kissed yet.
Connor gets the button popped and the zipper eased down, sliding his hand in Freddie’s jeans easily now. He skips the foreplay, wraps his hand around his dick, thumb slicking over the head where he’s leaking steadily. God, he wants to see Freddie, to see him bare and laid out in his bed. His body isn’t ready to cooperate yet.
Freddie presses his forehead to Connor’s temple, pants hotly against his cheek and Connor doesn’t think, just tilts his head, nudges Freddie until he takes the hint and angles down enough to press their lips together.
It’s hot and slick. Freddie licks into his mouth like he’s desperate for it and Connor clings back. He shoves and Freddie rolls onto his back but their lips barely part before they’re kissing again, deep and claiming. If he could get hard again he thinks this would do it, but he’s still buzzed from the booze and it’s too soon to get it up again. Damnit.
Connor tries to keep kissing him as he yanks Freddie’s jeans and underwear down but he misses, presses kisses to his cheeks, his nose and chin instead. He settles on Freddie’s thighs and takes in his prize, out of breath. Freddie’s flushed, swollen lips hanging open and eyes molten. His shirt is rucked up now, showing off a toned stomach and a happy trail leading down to his thick cock, red and leaking. His jeans get trapped around his thighs but Connor doesn’t bother pulling them down any further, he’s got Freddie right where he wants him.
He licks his hand and wraps it around Freddie’s cock, watching the way his eyes flutter and his mouth drops open further.
“I can’t decide what I want to do to you more,” he admits, jerking him off with quick movements. Freddie gasps as he swipes his thumb over the soft head. “I want to suck you off but I really want to watch you come.”
Freddie groans, reaching out for him and pulling him close again for a messy kiss.
“Next time,” he promises, voice wrecked as Connor speeds up his hand. “I’m going to fuck your mouth.” He bites at Connor’s bottom lip, then sucks it to soothe the sting.
“Promises,” he teases as Freddie stiffens against him and comes all over his fist and their stomachs.
The room is quiet as they come down, their silence softened by the music filtering in from downstairs and their breathing between them. Connor eases his wrist out from between them, hesitating for a moment before Freddie wraps an arm around him, tugging him to rest sprawled across his chest. Between them they certainly are a mess and if they aren’t careful they’re going to end up stuck together but he can’t find it in himself to care with Freddie, warm and solid, holding him close.
::
They come downstairs the next morning to a round of cheers.
“I fucking told you it would work!” Mitch cries as Willy grudgingly hands over a twenty.
“You couldn’t have waited another month?” He demands but he’s grinning where he and Zach are curled together on the couch. “I was ready to make some money!”
Connor flips them off, a little hungover and a lot happy.
Freddie casually crosses to Mitch and plucks the twenty out of his hand, ignoring his spluttering.
“C’mon,” he tangles their fingers together and leads Connor to the door. “I’ll treat you to pancakes.”
“Aww,” the guys coo.
Connor flushes, unable to stop the smile that spreads across his face.