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Viktor’s not sure how he ended up on the other side of the wall—the one that draws a thin line between him and his housemate.
Dmitri’s room is a mess. Despite his insistence on doing Viktor’s laundry, it looks like he’s rarely ever done his own. The well-manicured man is just a front for a shelf of unorganized skincare products and stray hair ties under a dart board across from his bed.
Maybe he doesn’t know Dmitri as well as he thought he did. He certainly didn’t know he was this good of a kisser.
Dmitri holds Viktor’s jaw steady as he kisses him, working his mouth and tongue in practiced, confident motions. It lacks the sloppiness of most afterparty tangles, mostly due to the fact that Dmitri is the fraternity president and prides himself in being a gracious host. Viktor reckons he’s had two drink tops, enough to blur the edges but stray from any major embarrassment.
The kissing is good, admittedly, and Viktor surrenders to it.
He surrenders because he’s also kind of buzzed, and because it’s Dmitri, he knows Dmitri. Dimitri won’t make a big deal of this in the morning. Dmitri can handle a casual hookup between friends. Hell, Viktor wouldn’t be surprised if this has happened with another housemate already. The homoerotic energy in this house has to have some merit behind it.
“Vik, baby, I need you,” Dmitri mumbles against Viktor’s lips, hands wandering down to squeeze his waist.
Viktor’s never been especially fond of the excessive pet names, but in this context he can’t help but let the smallest sigh of pleasure escape as he tilts his head back against the wall. Dmitri wastes no time kissing down the exposed length of Viktor’s neck and attempting to suck a bruise into the skin there.
“Fuck you,” Viktor groans and shoves his face away before he can do any damage.
Dmitri flashes a devious grin and licks the front of his teeth. “Sorry, can’t help myself.”
They’re kissing again, and this time Dmitri is grinding his hips, still holding Viktor steady with his athletic build. It’s fucking hot, the way his arms grip Viktor’s body with barely any effort. He can’t help but squirm to test the strength and then moan a little when he finds himself thoroughly pinned.
“You like that, sweetheart?” Dmitri teases, giving the side of his hip a squeeze and emphasizing his excitement by pressing the hard length of cock against Viktor through his pants.
“You’re so fucking hard already,” Viktor chuckles, a little breathy from all of the kissing.
He’s really doing a number on this totally platonic male friendship he was keen on fostering earlier in the semester. Then again, he’s heard the stories about dudes offering a helping hand now and then, so this can’t be that weird. Maybe that’s just a porno thing, though.
“Yeah I am, have you seen yourself?” Dmitri laughs, but it comes out delightfully pathetic and clipped-off when Viktor grinds forward to match his pace.
“Careful, there,” Viktor warns.
Dmitri bites his lip playfully and then leans in to nose into the crook of Viktor’s neck again. “Are you sure that’s what you want, hm? Careful?”
“I want your cock in my mouth,” Viktor enunciates, eyes hooded. Fucking hell, those drinks were strong. He shouldn’t have trusted Kayn behind the bar.
Viktor wonders if anyone’s noticed their absence from the party downstairs. Neither of them will ever hear the end of it if the rest of the fraternity finds out. He’s sure they are capable of being discreet, unlike a certain bat in the attic.
Dmitri visibly shudders. “Holy shit, you can’t just say things like that.”
“Gonna cum in your pants, Hamish?”
“Wow, the boys are really rubbing off on you.”
Viktor raises his eyebrows and nods downwards to where Dmitri is, quite literally, rubbing off on him.
“No comment,” Dmitri groans.
“Then eh, let’s move to the bed. Hate to disappoint, but I’m shit on my knees.”
Dmitri never shuts up at baseline, so it shouldn’t be that much of a surprise that he’s loud in bed. Almost like he’s showing off, or like he gets off on the idea of someone overhearing. With his cock in Viktor’s mouth, Dmitri moans and babbles nonsense like he’s fucking dying.
“Yeah, like that baby, baby, oh my god–”
Viktor pulls off and wipes his mouth, offering a pointed glare.
Dmitri’s face goes red and he clears his throat. “S-sorry, you’re just really good at that and hah, holy shit, Vik–”
The satisfaction of having that effect on his housemate pushes him deeper, taking Dmitri’s cock into the back of his throat. There’s a slight resistance, but he relaxes his jaw to settle into the feeling. It’s heavy and grounding in his mouth, powerful. Viktor likes feeling powerful, especially with such a notorious jock at his mercy.
“You have n-no idea, Vik, how much I’ve thought about this, about you like this…”
Dmitri’s rambling barely registers. All Viktor focuses on is holding still while Dmitri bucks his hips up, short thrusts breeching his throat and quickly finding an even pace.
“Bet you hear me when I think about it. Through the– mm, through the wall, y’know our beds are like, right besi–ah, fuck!”
It’s all the warning he gets before Dmitri shouts and seizes under him unexpectedly, taking them both by surprise. Viktor gasps and pulls off, half of the load missing his mouth entirely.
“Fuck, fuck I’m sorry I don’t know wh–” Dmitri’s breath heaves as he comes down from his orgasm. “That never happens, I swear.”
“Sure,” Viktor laughs and wipes the mess from his chin. He smears it on Dmitri’s thigh, who grimaces but tolerates the punishment.
Viktor is rewarded with Dmitri’s head between his thighs. After all of the kissing and cock-sucking, it’s blissful to finally get attention where he wants from someone who clearly enjoys giving it. Dmitri is well-experienced, if not a little over-excited. Viktor guesses they both have gone too long without blowing off steam.
Dmitri starts with broad licks, then alternates between sucking his cock and stuffing his tongue up his cunt. It actually makes Viktor so delirious he considers asking Dmitri to fuck him properly, but even with the drinks in his system he knows that’s a bad idea.
“Fingers,” Viktor gasps instead, “add your fingers.”
Dmitri nods and slides two fingers inside him, wet and easy. He’s got big hands, thank god, and as good as his tongue felt, this is even better. Viktor moans deep in his throat and spreads his legs wider.
“You like that, baby? You liked getting fucked on my fingers?” Dmitri grins, mouth shiny with evidence of his work. “So pretty like this, you taste so good, just for me. For me, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Viktor nods enthusiastically, not even paying attention to the bullshit Dmitri is babbling about. He grabs a handful of Dmitri’s long hair. It’s soft and pretty, long-fallen from the ponytail it was in at the beginning of the night. Viktor rarely sees him with his hair down. It’s hot. Really hot.
Fuck, is he supposed to think shit like that about his friends? Viktor hasn’t had many close male friendships. It’s kind of hard to gauge what’s appropriate when everyone’s always touching each other and making dick jokes. He’s a gay man, sue him for enjoying the variety of peak male form in a dozen football players that live in his house.
When Dmitri crooks his fingers, Viktor loses his train of thought and reacts by pulling on Dmitri’s hair. The sound that follows from the man between his legs stops them both in their tracks to make alarmed eye contact.
“Did you just–”
“No.”
“--whimper?”
“I did not whimper, you pulled my hair!”
“You liked it!”
“Shut–”
Viktor gives the handful another strong yank, and again, Dmitri cries out and buries his face in Viktor’s cunt to hide the sound.
“Don’t get lazy, keep going,” Viktor orders, as whatever semblance of dynamic they clumsily established earlier crumbles into little pieces. Viktor likes a little power play, and now he has an opening to seize it.
Not like Dmitri’s complaining.
Well, he is, but he’s also whimpering. So.
“Right there, yeah, there,” Viktor instructs, letting his eyes flutter closed as he holds his fistful of Dmitri’s hair like reigns.
Pleasure buzzes through his whole body as Dmitri eats with renewed vigor. He pumps his arm, muscles flexing as he fuck three fingers now inside Viktor. Aggression matches aggression. Viktor pulls harder and wraps his legs around Dmitri’s head to keep him in place, barely letting him breathe. Dmitri’s hand fucks him faster as he matches the strokes with repeated licks to his cock.
“Fuck, fuck, I’m– I’m gonna–”
Dmitri nods his head, but doesn’t dare come up for air.
Viktor gasps a couple times and then falls over the edge, pleasure burning in his veins as he rides out his orgasm with his housemate between his legs. Dmitri unlatches from between Viktor’s legs to take deep, heaving breaths of recovery, fingers still lazily pumping inside with slick, wet sounds.
“Hey gorgeous. Enjoy yourself?” He pants, with sweaty strands of hair sticking to his face.
Viktor covers his face with his arm and just breathes, letting silence fall between them. They don’t say anything for at least a whole minute, both reeling from the encounter and relishing in the satisfaction of a good lay.
Dmitri begins kissing Viktor’s inner thigh, leaving a trail down the brace indents in his leg. His expression is softer than Viktor’s ever seen it. Who knew it just took some head to mellow him out.
Viktor finally breaks the silence and shifts away from Dmitri’s ministrations. “Fuck, I need to pee. Get up.”
“Right.” Dmitri sits back up, a little dazed.
“You good?”
“Yeah,” he nods, a dumbstruck smile spreading across his face. “That was amazing. You’re amazing.”
Viktor snorts and knees him in the ribs playfully. “Okay, Romeo, don’t make it weird.”
Dmitri huffs a nervous laugh and rolls over to let Viktor shimmy his underwear back on. Viktor makes a face when he eyes his skinny jeans on the floor, likely still sticky from the sweaty basement of the party earlier.
“You can just sleep in your underwear, it’s fine.” Dmitri shrugs. “Or without them. Not like I haven’t seen you naked.” He smirks and makes a V over his mouth with two fingers, sticking his tongue out in a crude gesture.
Maybe all the head in the world can’t mellow out whatever the fuck is wrong with Dmitri.
Viktor just shoots him an annoyed look and stands up from the bed, grabbing the cane that toppled over when they entered the room. “Eh, you know I live here right? I’ll be sleeping in my own bed, thank you very much.”
“Oh,” Dmitri frowns, “right. I just thought–”
“You don’t have to worry about me,” Viktor rolls his eyes, “I know how to do casual. I’m no frat guy, but I am familiar with the terms and conditions of hooking up.”
“Casual.” Dmitri repeats with a blank expression.
“I won’t say a word.” Viktor smiles and mimes zipping his lips, backing up towards the door.
“Right, right.”
“Goodnight, Dmitri,” Viktor says with a suggestive grin.
“Hah– goodnight, Viktor,” Dmitri responds, tiredness seemingly taking over. Actually, he just sounds defeated. Viktor wonders if Dmitri actually wanted to fuck. That feels a lot less casual.
But Dmitri doesn’t say anything else, he just lays back onto his bed with a dramatic flop. Viktor leaves him to sulk or whatever and returns to the comfort of his own bed after washing up.
Before he falls asleep, he thinks about Dmitri’s room again. His obnoxious king bed shoved up against their shared wall. The thin line separating them now, hiding the fact that they’re laying only inches apart.
When that same whimper escapes Dmitri’s throat as he strokes himself off again alone in bed, Viktor is too deep asleep to notice.