Chapter Text
There was just something about that night that had Washington's mind swirling, and it was not from the alcohol. Maybe this alcohol did have a bit of an effect as to influence Washington's so-called loyalty to his frat house (these things were very technical after all) but maybe it also had something to do with the whole waking up beside the Knight and staring at him until he woke.
He couldn't remember how he ended up in bed with a member of his house's rival. He couldn't even remember how the guy kissed, let alone how good the sex was.
Maybe that would be the reason why he kept coming back, he'd muse. Maybe that hazy morning, fighting between that just fucked feeling and the hangover, would grow on him and influence his behaviour for the next two weeks.
The black haired man's chocolate brown eyes fluttered open, squinting when the stray ray of light shone onto his face. "Fuck," he hissed as he rolled closer to Washington. Tucking his face into Washington's fluffy blond hair.
"You can say that again," Wash chuckled, the sound grating on his fried brain. Yup, he was hung-over.
The man stiffened, pulling away from his bed partner and finally taking in his appearance. Taking in the blond hair, the gray-blue eyes, the freckles and that familiar youthful face. He cursed, rolling onto his back and throwing an arm over his face with a sigh. “For fucks sake,” he cursed again before rolling even further away from Washington and out of the bed that belonged to neither Terrence nor Washington—Terrence was his name, right?
He was older than Wash so he couldn’t be too sure—didn’t have a class together, not a single shared friend. Their fraternities were rivals so it’s not like they were supposed to get along.
Washington caught the man’s arm before he could roll out of the bed, tugging him back and wrapping his arm around his shoulders. “So, I don’t remember shit from last night and if our frats are going to flip out about this one-night fuck I would rather remember it.” He seals their lips together, cupping the man’s face as he eased his tongue between his teeth.
Terrence pulled away, though reluctantly, to snarl out a “what are you doing?” Pushing the blond away from him when he went in for another press of lips, “stop that.” He pried the man’s hands away from his face, from his neck and shoulders, only for Washington to wrap his naked legs around the man’s equally naked waist. “They’ll talk,” he hissed, following the man down to the bed when their cocks brushed against each other.
“They’d talk either way. Let’s give ourselves something to remember everything by,” he kept his hands up by his head as he batted those baby blues up at his bed partner. Licking his lips, dragging his tongue over his teeth when that brown eyes gaze followed after each movement. If the man wanted to be in charge and it meant that Wash was going to get laid again then sure, sure he’d keep his hands where he could see them. “It’s not much fun if you can’t remember your one night stand.”
He had a point. He knew he had a point—he didn’t have this reputation of sleeping around with enough dicks NOT to have gained a bit of traction in the ways of the job. Though that made it sound like he was being paid for his sex which unfortunately was not the case—though he should ask Felix if he was. Felix’s Reputation was capitalized; that boy had been around the block more than once, Wash could say that he knew even though he’s only tangoed with the man twice in his year at this lovely University of his.
Terrence eased back onto his haunches, untangling the blond’s freckled legs from around his waist and flipping him over onto his hands and knees. “A couple of rules then blondie: 1. don’t fucking kiss me,” he slid in between his thighs, dipping a finger between his cheeks to feel just what kind of mess he had to work with. Most of the lube from last night had been absorbed and unless Terrence felt like tearing something he’d have to prep the blond open again.
The one thing that Terrence had discovered quickly after attending a few sorority mixers was that these bedrooms that they allowed people to hook up in (because they wouldn’t let just anyone fuck in one of their bedrooms) was that they kept a readily supplied stash of condoms and lube for mass consumption—same could be said with frat houses though too, what with all the condoms Terrence found laying around his place. “Rule 2. No names,” he doesn’t care if this blond knew him, he didn’t want to know him and he didn’t want to hear the guy moaning his name. Maybe last night, sure, but the sun was up and the morning brought different rules into play.
He fumbled around for the condoms and lube that fell onto the floor—did it happen during round one or did it happen before that? Terrence gave no shit; no shits were given save that he eventually got to plow that perky freckled ass that tempted him so. He pushed himself back upright between the blond’s legs, uncapping the lube as he went about explaining the third rule. “3. No bullshit. No talking afterwards, no exchanging numbers. We fuck, we leave, we forget this ever happened.”
The blond snorted, clearly rolling his eyes into his folded arms as he bucked back against the lubricated finger slipping down his crack. “Rule number 4,” he pauses to slide a finger into the man. His eyes falling shut as the blond moans, that damn finger slipping in with far too much ease. He added a second—he was still stretched, still ready for him. Fuck. “Rule number 4. No marks.” He says this while staring at a huge dark hickey on the man’s shoulder—he’s already broken this so-called rule of his, but it was starting now. Now and onwards was what mattered.
The blond moaned, rocking back against his two fingers working their way easily within him. He slipped in a third, “5. No cuddling.” Terrence didn’t like cuddling to begin with. He only really did that with his significant others—he ran a real hot internal body temperature and just having someone else snuggled up against him made it all the more unmanageable.
The man beneath him chuckles, spreading those thighs wider and bucking back when Terrence slipped a third digit within. “We’ll see Sharkface,” he tsked, cursing when the man removed his fingers from his puckered little asshole. At Terrence’s nickname a flair spikes in his gut, heat dispersing throughout his body as he tears at the corner of the condom with his teeth.
It could be how he says it; the taunt in his tone, the drawn out ‘r’ and ‘ce’ sounds. It could be how his own body reacts to how he says the man’s name; the brief flash of gray-blue eyes over his shoulder looking back at him, that shake of his ass as he perks it up just so. “Say that name again and I break your teeth,” his threat sounds hollow to his own ears as he busies himself with rolling the condom down his length.
“Mmmmm, Terrence—” now that warranted the unforgiving smack to the man’s ass. Already the deep red hand print began to form on the milky white flesh freckled with a variety of browns. The man yelped, turning to glare at the man only to clench them shut when he pushed in. The blond moaned—pushing back almost instantaneously as Terrence rammed in balls deep.
Gripping the back of the blond man’s neck he pistoned his hips; skin slapping as he forced his sore, tired and hung-over body into brutally controlled movements. “Stop. Talking,” he punctuated each work with a thrust, with a groan as his eyes clenched shut and he pressed himself to the body beneath him.
The blond chuckled, reaching ‘round and clenching one of Terrence’s ass cheeks. “No marks,” Washington teased, already feeling the man’s teeth digging into his shoulder. Terrence was a walking talking contradiction—no marks this, yet here he goes biting into Washington’s shoulder as he rams his cock deep within his ass. Washington moans, “Terrence you said—oh fuck yes—you said no marks Terrence.”
Oh of course Washington knew the elder man’s name. It was hard to forget when the name was paired with a man looking as fine as… well, Terrence. All tattooed and muscled. All snarly too—fuck, Washington had a weakness for bad boys and this Trojan Knight was bad. So fucking deliciously devilish.
He got off at the growls that man would hiss out between those teeth as he bit and sucked marks up his neck and down his shoulder. Washington arched back against the man as his cock brushed against his prostate gland; “oooh fuck!” He was loud, it was something that came with Washington’s reputation. Washington was loud, he liked cock and he took it really fucking fantastic. That and he liked it hard and rough and brutal. “Oooh fuck! Fuck! Terrence right there, right fucking there you shit!”
The man chuckled, licking behind the blond’s earlobe and sucking on the flesh. “Beg. You can’t seem to keep that mouth in check so do something useful,” the headboard slammed against the wall and Wash could almost swear that something cracked, “with it.”
“You want to hear me beg? I’ll beg,” Wash broke out into a pornographic moan that could no doubt be heard by the house.
Terrence pulled out, tossing the blond haired man onto his back and drawing his legs up and over his shoulders. Slamming back into the man’s quivering asshole Terrence hissed, “Then beg, bitch.” Clenching his hand around the man’s prick, Terrence continued to assault his clenching whole. Groaning and finding his own pleasure when the man would clench down around him, milking his cock with his heat—his tightness.
Talking was easy, talking was what Washington did—it was what he was known for. It was a gift to get him to stop talking and normally that would be because there was a cock in his mouth; his Momma taught him to not speak with his mouth full. “Please baby—please Terrence I need it. I wanna cum, I wanna cum with you inside me. With you filling me up with your hot fat cock. Oh!” So, maybe he was laying it on a little thick. Maybe it wasn’t as genuine as he’d like but he wasn’t close enough yet—not yet, but neither was the man above him.
He had his hand clamped around the base of his cock and his dick purposely just teasing his prostate in fleetly brushes, there was only so much Wash could get off to. “Boo,” the man stilled his thrusts, loosening his hold around the man’s cock. “With feeling, blond—”
Washington tangled a hand through Terrence’s inky black hair, “then call me Washington. Moan out my name and maybe I’ll get off. You’re doing a good job, really,” he pursed his lips and batted those baby blues again. Shit those eyes made Terrence’s stomach flip. “But I know you can do better. C’mon Terrence, lets wake up the house with our fucking. Let’s break the bed and bruise our bodies—I can take it, mmm yes I can take it.”
There was a moment there that the man stared. Just a full blown pause as he raked his brown eyes over his face, over each freckle and scar and mark. It was like he was taking him in for the first time—really taking him in. It was endearing, flattering—romantic even though the man was buried balls deep within Washington’s ass. There was a moment before he leaned over and broke rule number one.
Washington’s body crumbled in on itself, knees on either side of his head as his hands reached to find purchase. One, still buried in that ink black hair, remained firm in its hold while the other found the man’s arm. Their tongues slid together leisurely, a lovely shock between the once harsh pace of their fucking. The kiss was brief, over as quickly as it began. “You broke the first rule,” his hissed, muscles already cramping—he didn’t stretch enough for that position. Though as enjoyable as it was, it was still nice to be prepared for that amount of contortion before just having it thrust upon him.
Terrence slid the man’s legs from his shoulders to his elbows, pressing a kiss to the corner of the man’s lips. “It’s the lingering alcohol in my system. Shut up.” He began his thrusts anew, rolling his hips until a rhythm returned. Their moans drawing out—longer and longer as the pace was set, as Terrence re-found the man’s prostate and this time went about pleasure him. Focusing on that spot that had the blond haired man clenching and moaning, cooing and digging his nails into Terrence’s flesh. “Let’s hear that begging Washington.”
“Please,” Washington’s moans, his whimpers ate the rest of his pleas. “Please—please, ah,” his moans quieter before as he bit at his own lips as sucked on his tongue. His body shook, eyes snapping open before pulling Terrence’s face in close. “Please Terrence, please let me cum.”
Like an embrace, a moment shared only between them. “Then cum,” Terrence replied, watching as the man’s hand dropped from Terrence’s arm to wrap around his cock. Tugging at the prick until he spilled with a loud wordless cry, his anus clamping down around Terrence. Dipping him into his own body shuttering release.
The blond rolled them until they faced each other on their sides—he cuddled him. He broke another rule that Terrence established and… well, Terrence wrapped an arm around Washington’s waist and tucked his nose into his hair.