Work Text:
like every other evening, weekend, or scheduled appearance, the milwaukee beers had another event to attend. not that coop or remer paid much attention to the purpose of it; they were there for the same reasons they always were. they enjoyed the parties, the drinking, and the atmosphere. the attention from the women — and occasionally the men — was simply an added bonus, a convenient outlet for the leftover adrenaline from that afternoon’s game before the after-party celebrations truly began.
coop was occupied with one of the many sponsors, downing beer after beer — shot after shot. surprisingly, he was only slightly wasted. talking and drinking clearly weren’t his strong suits anymore, not like they had been back when he and remer were in college.
the two of them had always been known as party animals, and they still were — just with a few responsibilities to handle first.
…
after what felt like hours, coop was finally left alone again. the relief washed over him; conversations that long could drain the life out of anyone if you really thought about it, and he was definitely starting to feel it.
but it wasn’t long before squeak slipped into the seat beside the fake-blonde, drink in hand, leaning forward with that familiar eagerness. “hey, coop! do you think we’ll get lucky tonight?”
“shut up, squeak.”
“i told you not to call me tha–”
“shut up, little bitch.” coop snapped back, which was nothing out of the ordinary considering how much kenny talked. and, as expected, the shorter man immediately quieted down. coop allowed himself a sideways glance in his direction.
…
“remer,” the captain of the milwaukee beers muttered.
“what?”
“remer. where is he.”
“oh! he’s like… with this hot blonde babe. you know his type, you’re his best friend!” squeak answered, though of course he couldn’t help adding unnecessary details.
“okay, okay. shut up. i’m going to find him. he’s by the bar?” coop was already stepping forward before the question even finished leaving his mouth. behind him, kenny called out a quick ‘yes!’ to confirm.
as expected, remer wasn’t difficult to track down in a crowd like this. all coop had to do was follow the trail of women vying for the redhead’s attention, each one trying a little too hard to catch his eye.
most of them failed miserably, unless doug himself decided one of them was worth his time for the evening.
from a distance, coop finally spotted him. remer sat comfortably with two women perched on his lap — one threading her fingers through his hair and tugging his face toward hers, while the other slowly traced the gold chains resting against his chest and adjusted his glasses into a more even angle.
coop wasn’t sure why, but something tightened sharply in his chest. and for a moment, the pressure felt almost unbearable.
before he could linger on it, three women approached him, tugging him by the arms and guiding him toward one of the booth seats. they pulled him down between them, immediately surrounding him. hands were on him in places he didn’t exactly consent to, though he didn’t feel bothered enough to protest.
the women were undeniably attractive. he wasn’t going to complain.
coop was never one for long conversations, but tonight felt different. maybe it was the alcohol finally hitting him — or perhaps the line of no-no snow one of the girls laid out on the small table in front of him and the rest of the group, guiding him through the process and encouraging him to take a hit.
his body buzzed, warm and electric, while his eyes grew heavy from whatever cocktail of substances he’d put into his system earlier.
he knew it was probably a bad idea to let any of this happen — taking drugs he couldn’t even name, letting strangers hand him things he definitely shouldn’t have been ingesting. but honestly, could anyone blame him when a group of gorgeous women were the ones offering? no. not at all.
…
around ten minutes later, he was practically getting his face devoured. his large hands cupped the sides of the woman straddling his lap — the one whose name he absolutely could not remember. stacy? lucy? something close to that. it didn’t matter. not when she was pressed against him like this, all attention fixed squarely on him and nothing else.
he wasn’t thinking about names. or consequences. just the heat of her, the buzz under his skin, and the foggy, reckless haze swallowing up every coherent thought he had left.
“excuse me, pretty ladies—! i need to borrow this big guy from you for a little while, if that’s okay. maybe for the rest of the night, judging by how wasted he is.”
the voice floated in with a familiar mix of confidence and irritation, cutting cleanly through the music and chatter. remer sounded half-playful, half-annoyed, like he wasn’t sure whether he should apologize for interrupting or start scolding someone on the spot.
the woman tangled up with coop paused mid–kiss, pulling back with a wet little gasp. she steadied herself with both hands on coop’s shoulders, fingers digging in just slightly — whether to keep her balance or because she didn’t want to let go was unclear. she dragged her teeth over her bottom lip before letting it spring free, eyes lifting to take in the redhead standing over them.
she looked remer up and down slowly, deliberately, amusement sparking in her expression. then she flashed him a warm, teasing smile.
“he’s all yours, hot stuff,” she purred, stepping aside with a sway of her hips.
coop nearly whined — actually, he did let out something embarrassingly close to a whine, but it was lost in the noise of the room. his hands still hovered in the air where her waist had been, fingers curled as if they didn't know what to do without a babe pressed against him.
remer hesitated before reaching for him, his breath catching when his eyes finally landed fully on coop.
he took in the sight piece by piece.
coop’s hair, normally styled into something passable, was an absolute disaster — sticking out in every direction, clearly tugged at by too many hands. his cheeks were flushed, blotchy from alcohol and whatever else had been passed to him. and his lips — god. his lips were swollen, glossy, spit-slicked, clearly kissed within an inch of their life.
his eyelids hung low, pupils blown wide, teetering somewhere between blissed-out and barely conscious. he looked like he had been dragged through several rounds of flirting, drinking, and poor decisions, and was somehow still standing. barely.
for a second, remer didn’t move. he just stared, jaw slack.
coop looked wrecked. ruined. completely undone.
and painfully attractive like this. almost pitifully so.
remer swallowed hard, forcing himself to snap out of whatever fog had started to settle in his own head.
“jesus, coop.” he muttered under his breath, not sure if he meant it as concern or disbelief.
coop blinked at him sluggishly, an unfocused smile tugging at his mouth. he didn’t seem to fully register who had approached — or maybe he did, but only through the haze of alcohol and drugs swimming behind his eyes.
“remer..?” he slurred softly, voice hoarse from kissing and laughing too hard.
in that moment, remer felt something twist in his chest — annoyance, worry, protectiveness, something else he didn’t dare name.
he reached out, grabbing coop’s arm firmly to keep him from sliding right out of the booth.
“come on, big guy,” remer said, voice low but steady. “you’ve had enough entertainment for one night.”
and coop, pliant and dazed, didn’t argue. he simply let himself be guided, trusting remer’s grip more than he trusted his own legs.
with a hard shove and the weight of coop practically collapsing into him, remer forced the apartment door open. the lights inside were dim, just as they’d left them earlier that evening, a soft amber glow spilling across the floor. even with the faint mess of discarded gear and half-finished takeout boxes, the place felt more like home than any stadium or hotel ever could. no cameras, no crowds, no expectations — just them.
remer kicked the door shut behind them, the lock clicking into place with a sound that felt final, sealing them away from the noise of the night. his hand slid from coop’s shoulder down to his waist in a smooth, practiced motion, guiding him upright before he stumbled forward into the entryway wall.
coop let out a drunken hum, tilting his head back with a crooked, intoxicated grin. “ooohhhh— handsy, are we? mmmm?”
he leaned in far too close, their faces barely inches apart. the smell hit remer instantly — alcohol, sweat, cheap perfume, and the unmistakable scent of a man who had been manhandled by half the club.
remer scrunched his nose. “don’t say shit like that. i didn’t get laid, and you might be my target.”
it came out dry, almost bored, but there was an edge in his tone that made coop’s bleary eyes widen slightly. remer wasn’t joking — or at least, it wasn’t clear if he was. and coop, too drunk to properly care, let out a lazy laugh that died into a sigh as he slumped forward.
“youuu’re mad,” coop sing-songed, almost tripping over his own feet as his knees buckled.
“no shit i’m mad,” remer muttered, tightening his grip. “you’re supposed to be the responsible one. i get to do the dumb stuff. that’s the dynamic.”
he tried dragging coop down the hallway, but it was like pulling a sack of wet cement. coop stumbled once, twice, then completely lost his balance, sagging sideways until remer had no choice but to catch him fully.
“jesus— okay, enough of this,” remer grumbled.
he straightened up, adjusting his footing. one hand slid down coop’s hip, past his thigh, until he crouched just enough to hook an arm beneath him. the movement was surprisingly smooth for someone with remer’s temper. then his free arm wrapped around coop’s back, fingers splaying across his spine. with a sharp exhale, he lifted him clean off the ground in a full bridal carry.
coop gasped dramatically — a sound somewhere between surprise and delight. his arms immediately flopped around remer’s neck, not tight enough to cling, but just enough to show he’d surrendered to the situation.
“weeeee, what a fun ride—!” coop chimed, voice thick and foggy, head lolling against remer’s shoulder.
remer rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth fought upward for a split second — a smile he refused to fully allow. he would deny it to the grave if anyone asked.
coop nestled his face into the curve of remer’s neck, inhaling like it was instinct. the warmth of his breath against remer’s skin was.. distracting. intimate in a way it shouldn’t be.
“you smell good..” coop murmured in a dazed whisper before immediately contradicting himself, “like sweat and bad decisions.”
“so do you,” remer shot back, shifting his hold as he made his way down the hallway. “except you smell like you rolled around on the floor of a strip club. twice.”
coop giggled — actually giggled — and tightened his loose hold just enough to keep from slipping.
remer ignored the flutter of something he didn’t want to name settling low in his chest. instead, he focused on getting them to coop’s bedroom without dropping him, which felt like a genuine challenge considering how heavy and limp he’d gone.
he nudged the bedroom door open with his foot, the hinges giving a soft creak. the room was dim and quiet, the bed unmade from that morning — blankets kicked half off, pillows uneven. it looked lived in. human. a stark contrast from the chaos coop had been swallowed in earlier.
remer carried him over to the bed, lowering him carefully until coop’s back hit the mattress with a soft thump. instead of letting go, coop’s arms stayed looped lazily around remer’s neck, pulling him down just an inch more.
remer froze for a moment — close enough to feel coop’s breath ghost against his jaw.
he swallowed hard.
coop blinked up at him, pupils huge, expression soft and unfocused. “dude. you take such good care of me..”
the words hit harder than remer expected.
he cleared his throat roughly and pulled back, prying coop’s arms off of him with deliberate, steady hands.
“yeah,” remer muttered, his voice quieter than before. “someone’s gotta keep your dumb ass alive.”
he stepped back — but not too far — watching coop’s chest rise and fall as the blonde melted into the blankets, drunk and drugged and vulnerable in a way that made remer’s stomach twist.
coop extended a hand toward him, fingers trembling slightly as he pushed himself upright with the help of his elbows. his posture wavered, but his focus didn’t — his brows furrowed, eyes glassy and wide, pleading in a way that made remer’s breath hitch.
there was something unguarded in coop’s expression, something raw that had nothing to do with alcohol or drugs. it was the kind of look that could unravel someone if they weren’t careful.
“remer, come here. please?” he slurred, his head tilting until it rested heavily against his own shoulder. the vulnerability in his voice was startling — too honest, too soft.
remer stood frozen for a second, jaw tightening as he tried to process the request. hesitation flickered across his face, unfamiliar and unwelcome. but, despite every internal warning siren blaring, he stepped forward anyway. he always stepped toward coop, never away.
“what do you want, now?” remer asked, the words sharper than he intended, though not enough to mask the strain beneath.
coop looked up at him with a gaze that didn’t match the sloppy state he was in. it was gentle, focused — almost affectionate. the kind of look coop had no right wearing while drunk out of his mind.
“kiss me.”
the words were soft, but they hit with the force of a punch.
remer blinked. “what?”
coop licked his lips, slow and unfocused, eyes fixed on him like he was the only thing in the room. “you heard me. kiss me, dude.”
remer’s stomach lurched. his hands curled into fists at his sides. “that doesn’t sound like a good idea, coop.”
but coop didn’t back down. if anything, he leaned forward slightly, his hand still reaching, palm open and waiting.
“doug remer,” he said, voice breathy, “the things we’ve done before are way worse compared to a simple kiss.”
remer’s eyes snapped to his, a mixture of shock and scattered memories flashing behind them. things they never talked about. things that blurred lines neither of them acknowledged in daylight.
the room felt smaller. warmer. heavier.
“you don’t want that,” remer insisted, but his voice was weaker this time, uncertainty slipping through.
coop’s fingers brushed remer’s wrist, barely touching, but it was enough to send a shiver up his spine.
“i do.”
remer took a step back instinctively — but stopped halfway through it, torn between self-preservation and gravity pulling him closer.
“dude—” he tried again, but the word fell flat, useless.
coop only smiled a little, lazy and heartbreakingly sincere before whispering:
“be my favorite mistake, asshole.”
the sentence hung in the air between them, thick and electric.
and remer realized, with a sharp twist of his chest, that he was already halfway to leaning in.
with a sudden, desperate tug on remer’s wrist, coop yanked him forward. there was no time for remer to brace himself or argue — their mouths collided instantly, lips smashing together in a sloppy, breathless kiss.
it wasn’t gentle. it wasn’t careful. it was raw and messy and fueled by everything coop was feeling but couldn’t articulate.
remer inhaled sharply against him, the shock lasting only a fraction of a second before instinct — or something far more dangerous — took over. he braced a hand on the mattress beside coop’s head as his body followed the momentum, leaning down, caging him in completely.
the kiss deepened fast, almost violently. what began as a drunken, demanding press of lips turned into something hungry, something that tasted like every suppressed thought they’d shoved down for years. coop’s mouth parted easily beneath his, letting the heat of remer’s breath mix with his own.
remer’s knee sank into the mattress between coop’s thighs, slotting naturally between them as if they’d done this a thousand times. their bodies seemed to know exactly how to fit.
coop let out a low, involuntary sound as remer’s weight settled over him. it vibrated through his chest, straight into remer’s mouth.
that sound did something to remer — something he couldn’t ignore.
his hands, once rigid with hesitation, slid down the sides of coop’s torso, fingers dragging over the thin fabric of his shirt. he reached his hips and gripped them firmly, grounding them both in place. coop arched into the touch automatically, legs parting wider to make room for him.
their mouths moved together now — chaotic, heated, frantic. teeth clashed. breaths tangled. coop’s fingers curled into the front of remer’s shirt, pulling him closer, refusing to let him pull away even an inch.
and remer didn’t try.
he hovered over coop, trapped between the instinct to stop and the overwhelming pull to keep going, his thumbs digging into coop’s hips like he needed the anchor just as badly.
the room felt too small. their breaths too loud. the bed dipped beneath their combined weight, creaking with every shift.
somewhere in the blur of it, remer realized he wasn’t just kissing back — he was devouring him. responding to every tug, every gasp, every shaky inhale coop made.
and coop? he wanted it. all of it.
the hunger between them — unspoken for years — was no longer subtle. it roared to life, reckless and consuming.
and remer couldn’t tell if he was giving in or losing control. remer’s breath stuttered against coop’s mouth, the reality of what they were doing catching up just enough to make his chest tighten. but not enough to make him pull away.
coop’s hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt, dragging him closer until there was barely any space left between them. their mouths moved with a kind of reckless desperation, as if stopping for even a second would break whatever spell had dragged them together in the first place.
remer could feel coop’s pulse through his lips — fast, unsteady, matching his own. the heat between them built and built, pressed tight in every place their bodies touched.
he groaned low in his throat before he could stop himself.
coop heard it — felt it — and answered by arching up against him, hips lifting in a slow, instinctive grind that made remer’s grip tighten. his fingers dug into coop’s sides, dragging him down harder into the mattress.
“coop,” he breathed against his lips, voice cracking on the name.
coop’s fingers slid up, curling into the back of remer’s hair, pulling just enough to make him suck in a sharp breath. his eyes fluttered open halfway, pupils blown wide, fixed on remer’s face like he was trying to memorize every second of this.
“don’t stop,” coop whispered, almost slurred, but so sincere it made remer freeze for half a heartbeat.
the plea hit him in the gut — raw, vulnerable, unguarded.
“i’m not stopping unless you tell me to,” remer answered, surprising himself with how steady he sounded despite the whirlwind inside him.
coop didn’t answer with words. instead, he tugged him back down into another kiss, deeper this time, slower but somehow more intense. their mouths fit together with a familiarity that shouldn’t have been there but absolutely was.
remer shifted his weight, lowering more of himself onto coop, bracing one forearm beside his head while the other hand slid from coop’s hip to the side of his ribcage, thumb brushing bare skin where the shirt had ridden up. coop jolted at the touch, a soft gasp slipping out.
the sound shot straight through remer.
he broke the kiss just long enough to stare down at him — really stare — chest heaving, lips swollen, hair a mess, pupils blown. coop looked wrecked, needy, and beautiful in a way that made remer’s throat go tight.
“you sure about this?” remer asked, voice low, barely audible.
coop smiled — a lazy, crooked, heart-aching smile — and nodded once, slow but deliberate.
“i want you.”
the room seemed to tilt for a second, the words sinking in like a weight remer wasn’t prepared for.
coop lifted a hand, palms warm and unsteady, brushing clumsily along remer’s jaw. “you don’t have to think so hard. just stay with me.”
and remer — for the first time that night — let himself stop thinking.
he leaned down again, slower now, pressing his forehead to coop’s for a brief moment, breath mingling, hearts racing in sync.
then he captured his mouth again.
this time, it wasn’t frantic. it wasn’t fueled by drugs or adrenaline. it was deliberate — purposeful — like remer was finally letting himself feel everything he’d been forcing down for far too long.
coop melted beneath him, fingers curling at his nape, body softening into the mattress like he belonged nowhere else but under remer’s hands.
and for the first time since stepping into that apartment, remer didn’t fight the pull.
he gave in.
completely.