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The fluorescent light of the hallway felt like a physical assault, vibrating in time with the dull, whiskey-fueled throb behind Est’s temples. He looked like he’d been dragged through a river, clothes clinging to his skin in a cold, heavy suction, but William was in even worse shape. William was a chaotic mess of drenched fabric and uncoordinated weight, leaning into Est with a persistence that made the simple task of opening the door feel like a marathon.
"Will, seriously— if you don't stop… God— just stand," Est gritted out, his voice raspy from hours of shouting over the bass.
His fingers felt like leaden weights, clumsy and slick as they fumbled with the electronic keypad. The touchscreen was a smeared mess of water and condensation, mocking his every attempt. Behind him, William was a heavy, suffocating heat, his entire body weight slumped forward until his chest was crushed against Est's back.
He had been like this for the last hour of the celebration— reckless and insatiable. No matter how many times Est had tried to pull the cup away or steer him toward the water jugs, William had just laughed that low, dangerous laugh, tilting his head back to swallow whatever was offered by the passing crowd. He’d been a sponge for the alcohol, his restraint dissolving with every spray of the water cannons until he was nothing but a mess of tactile need and stubborn weight.
"Est... 'm home..." William mumbled, the words melting into the damp skin of Est’s neck.
The younger guy was fully clinging. His arms were locked around Est’s waist, his fingers digging into the soaked fabric of Est's shirt with a possessive, grounding grip. Every time Est shifted to try and see the keypad, William followed the movement like a shadow, burying his face deeper into the crook of Est's shoulder with a needy, whining sound that vibrated straight through Est’s spine.
"We aren't home yet because you won't let me move," Est hissed, though his own knees felt weak, the scent of expensive whiskey and water on William’s skin making his head spin faster than the alcohol did.
His wet palm finally registered, the keypad lighting up with a sharp, digital chirp. With a frustrated huff, Est punched in the PIN— a sequence he knew as well as his own.
The lock clicked open. Est didn't even have the coordination to be graceful as he simply shoved his shoulder against the wood, stumbling into the dark apartment and dragging William’s heavy, soaking frame along with him. The door swung shut with a muffled thud, cutting off the world, but the silence only made the sound of their labored, drunken breathing feel deafening.
Before Est could even reach for the light switch, he felt the sudden, forceful shift in momentum. William’s grip tightened, spinning them around until Est’s back hit the cool surface of the door with a jolt that rattled his teeth.
William was right there, eyes dark and unfocused, his breath hot and smelling of the night's indulgence as he pinned Est into the shadows. He looked half-feral in the gloom, his wet hair dripping onto Est’s cheeks, his hands finally moving from Est's waist to roam upward with a frantic, messy urgency.
He wasn't whining anymore.
The shift was instantaneous— the soft, needy weight of a drunk boy evaporated, replaced by a heavy, predatory stillness that made Est’s pulse jump. In the pitch-black entryway, the only thing Est could see was the faint, dangerous glint in William’s eyes, darkened by layers of whiskey and (almost) a month’s worth of starved longing.
Est gulped, the sound loud in the sudden silence of the apartment.
"Will—"
"Three weeks," William interrupted, his voice no longer thick and slurred, but dropped into a low, gravelly register that sent a shiver straight down Est’s damp spine. He leaned in until their noses brushed, his breath hot against Est's lips. "Three weeks of looking at you through a screen, P’Est. Do you have any idea what that does to me?"
The "missed you" texts and the grainy FaceTime calls from across the world had been a slow torture, and now that the distance was finally zero, William looked like he wanted to devour the space between them. His hands, still wet and shaking slightly from the adrenaline of the night, slid up from Est's waist, his palms flat against the door on either side of Est’s head, trapping him.
"The tour... the crowds... everything was so loud," William murmured, his lips grazing the corner of Est’s mouth as he spoke. "But all I could think about was how much I wanted to shut everyone else out and just... have you."
He moved then, a sudden, aggressive tilt of his head as he buried his face into the curve of Est’s neck. The first kiss was a firm, possessive claim, his teeth catching briefly on the sensitive skin just below Est’s ear. It was completely different from the shoulder kiss he did earlier in the party.
Est let out a ragged gasp, his head hitting the door with a soft thud as his eyes fluttered shut. William was a chaotic force— aggressive and unyielding, fueled by the alcohol and a month of isolation. He didn't stop at one, his mouth moving with a messy, desperate hunger over Est’s shoulder, dragging his lips across the skin exposed by those five undone buttons.
"Mine," William muttered against his skin, the word muffled but unmistakable, his hands moving from the door to grip Est’s hair, tilting his head back to expose more of his throat to the humid, drunken heat of William’s mouth. "You’re finally right here."
Est’s head was spinning, the room tilting on its axis as the weight of William’s desire threatened to pull them both to the floor. The sensation of William’s teeth against his shoulder was electric, but the damp, heavy fabric of their clothes was starting to feel like a leaden weight, cold against the heat of their skin.
"Hmm? Alright, Will," Est breathed out, his voice a shaky compromise between a command and a plea.
He planted his palms against William’s chest, pushing back with a sudden burst of effort. He was dizzy but he managed to create a few inches of space. William didn't go easily; he stumbled back, his slippers squeaking against the hardwood, his eyes blinking slowly as he tried to refocus on Est’s face.
"Need to... move," Est muttered, wiping a bead of water from his eye. "We're soaking the floor, and you’re going to pass out in the entryway if we don't get these clothes off."
William stayed rooted to the spot, swaying slightly. The aggressive edge from moments ago softened into something more vulnerable, though no less intense. He watched Est through messy, wet bangs, his expression shifting into a look of bruised concentration.
"Did you?" William asked, his voice cracking slightly.
Est paused, his hand halfway to the first closed button of his own shirt. "Did I what?"
"Miss me." William stepped back into Est's space, though this time he didn't pin him. He just leaned down, his face dangerously close again, peering into Est’s eyes with a raw, drunken sincerity. "Three weeks, Phi. I asked... did you miss me too?"
Est felt his heart thud painfully against his ribs. He let out a soft, tired hum, nodding his head as he reached out to steady William by the waist. "Hmm… yeah."
But that wasn't enough for the drunk, starved version of William. He pulled his face back, making it clear for Est to see, his lower lip pushing out into a stubborn, exaggerated pout that looked ridiculous and endearing all at once.
"Say it," William insisted, his voice dropped to a needy whisper. "You didn't say it. You just hummed. P’Est... look at me. Did you miss me as much as I missed you?"
He looked like he was on the verge of either crying or dragging Est back against the door, his eyes wide and shimmering in the dark, waiting for the words to fill the void the tour had left behind.
Like a puppy.
Est felt a slow, lopsided smile tug at the corners of his mouth, his chest tightening with a warmth that had nothing to do with the alcohol. Looking at William now— this mess of wet hair, stubborn pouts, and raw longing— the frustration of the stuck door and the damp clothes simply evaporated.
Instead of answering with words, Est reached up, his damp fingers cupping William’s jaw to steady him. He leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss right against the center of William’s forehead. It was a mirror of the moment hours ago, amidst the roar of the crowd and the spray of the water cannons, when William had pulled him close just to press his lips there as if to make sure Est was actually real.
"I missed you so much it felt like I was holding my breath for twenty days," Est murmured against his skin, his voice dropping to a tender, private register. "Welcome home, Will."
The pout vanished instantly. A dazed, beautiful smile broke across William’s face, his eyes crinkling in the way that always made Est’s heart skip. He suddenly lunged forward, capturing Est’s lips in a deep, desperate kiss that tasted of whiskey and the salt of the night.
It was messy and uncoordinated, their teeth clashing as they both struggled to get close enough, but it was grounded in a fierce, tangible relief. William pulled back just an inch, his forehead resting against Est’s, and let out a breathless, giddy giggle that vibrated between them.
"Finally," William whispered, punctuating the word with another sharp, hungry peck on Est's lips, then another on his cheek. He kept giggling, the sound light and slightly hysterical with the sheer joy of being back. "Finally, finally, finally."
He started trailing kisses down Est’s jawline, his hands fumbling with the hem of Est's soaked shirt. Between the wet, sloppy presses of his lips, he couldn't stop the small, bubbly laughs from escaping— the pure, unfiltered reaction of a man who was far too drunk, far too in love, and finally exactly where he wanted to be.
Then the air in the entryway grew thick, the oxygen seemingly replaced by the heavy, intoxicating heat radiating between them. William’s started roaming, worse, they were mapping Est’s body with a desperate, frantic energy, bunching the wet fabric of Est’s shirt in his fists to pull him flush against his chest. It felt like they were trying to merge into one person, their soaked clothes forming a slick, suctioned seal between them.
William tilted his head, deepening the contact as he slipped his tongue into the heat of Est’s mouth. The kiss turned filthy and uncoordinated, fueled by the whiskey and the weeks of pent-up frustration. It was the taste of a long-awaited reunion— raw, intense, and completely lacking in restraint.
As the kiss intensified, William’s hands slid down the curve of Est’s back, his fingers dipping beneath the waistband of his damp shorts. He found the firm swell of Est’s plumped ass and gave it a sudden, hard squeeze, his grip possessive and heavy-handed in his drunken state.
“Nghh—“ The sharp pressure caught Est off guard, a high, startled yelp breaking through the silence of the dark apartment.
The sound forced them apart just an inch. But William didn't pull away completely and instead, he stayed hovered right over Est’s lips, his chest heaving as he fought for air. His eyes were half-lidded, glazed with a mixture of exhaustion and a sharp, predatory hunger that the alcohol had stripped bare of any polite pretense.
He looked wrecked— hair plastered to his forehead, cheeks flushed a deep, dark red, and a smirk playing on his swollen lips. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, rough vibration that seemed to rumble right through Est’s bones.
“Can I fuck you tonight, Phi?”
The honorific was a weighted choice, delivered with a rasp that made it clear he wasn't really asking for permission so much as he was stating an inevitability. He stayed there, his hands still firmly planted on Est, waiting for the answer with a heavy, expectant silence.
Est couldn’t even breathe. He looked up at William and felt his resolve shatter. As he shifted, trying to find his footing on the slick floor, he felt it: the unmistakable, solid weight of William’s desire pressing firmly against his thigh.
William was hard. Really, really hard.
The realization hit him like a physical blow, it sent a jolt of pure, unadulterated heat straight to Est’s core. William looked way too hot like this— feral, honest, and completely undone by the night.
"You better," Est rasped, his voice sounding foreign even to his own ears. He reached up, his fingers threading through the damp hair at the back of William’s neck, pulling him closer until their foreheads bruised against each other. "You better fuck me until I can’t walk, Will. Until I forget my own name."
A dark, triumphant smirk spread across William’s face. He didn't say a word, but the look in his eyes promised that and more. He leaned in, his lips hovering just a fraction of an inch from Est's ear, his breath a scorching contrast to the dampness of their skin.
"Jump," William whispered, the command low and vibrating against Est's skin.
Est didn't hesitate. He hooked his arms around William’s neck and leaped, his legs locking firmly around William’s waist. William caught him effortlessly, his hands sliding under Est’s thighs to hold him in place, the sudden shift in weight making Est let out a shaky breath.
The moment they were connected, William crashed their mouths together again. It was all tongue and teeth and the desperate sound of their breathing echoing in the small entryway.
With Est pinned to his chest and his legs wrapped tight, William began to move. He navigated the darkened hallway with a clumsy, drunken determination, his feet heavy on the floor as he carried Est toward the bedroom. He didn't stop kissing him, not for a second, even when he bumped against the doorframe.
When they arrived at the bedroom, the heat inside was suffocating. William didn't head for the mattress; instead, he steered them toward the far wall, slamming Est’s back against the cool plaster with a force that made the framed photos rattle.
The impact did nothing to dampen the fire. If anything, it made the kiss turn more desperate, more primal. William’s mouth was a frantic, wet pressure against Est’s, their tongues tangling in a messy, whiskey-flavored battle for dominance.
While his mouth stayed locked on Est’s, William’s hands began to work with a single-minded focus. He reached down, his wet, warm palms sliding beneath the hem of Est’s soaked shorts. The contrast of William’s rough, calloused skin against the sensitive curves of Est’s backside made Est whimper into the kiss, his fingers digging into William’s shoulders as he clung on for dear life.
William’s grip was possessive, his fingers kneading and fondling the firm flesh of Est’s bare ass. But then, he began to focus his attention on the center, his fingertips teasing the entrance of Est’s aching, gaping hole through the thin silk of his underwear.
Est’s breath hitched, a low, needy sound vibrating in his throat. He was already so ready, his body primed by the weeks of distance and the sheer magnetism of William’s presence.
"Will... please," Est choked out, his head falling back against the wall as William’s mouth migrated to his jawline.
William didn't give him the mercy of a slow buildup. He used his middle finger to slick the entrance, and then, with a sudden, authoritative shove, he pushed a finger inside.
“Oh my— fuck.”
Est’s eyes flew open, his mouth falling open in a jagged, silent gasp as his entire body arched off the wall. The sensation of being filled— even just by a finger— after so much time apart was overwhelming. His legs tightened around William’s waist, his toes curling as he tried to process the sudden, delicious invasion.
"You're so tight," William growled against his skin, his voice a dark, rough rasp that was completely devoid of its earlier sweetness. He pushed deeper, his eyes fixed on Est’s face, watching every flicker of pleasure and shock with a hungry, possessive stare. "Did you save this just for me, phi? Tell me."
William didn’t wait for an answer. His gaze was fixed on the way Est’s throat worked as he swallowed, and with a low, guttural huff, he slid a second finger inside.
The addition sent a fresh jolt of lightning through Est’s system. The heat in his gut was a physical ache that needed to be answered. Driven by a mix of drunken bravado and pure, unadulterated need, Est began to move his hips, riding the friction of William’s fingers. He ground himself down against the invasion, his legs locking tighter around William’s waist as he sought out more pressure, more depth.
“That’s it... fuck, P’Est,” William hissed, his voice breaking as he buried his face back into the crook of Est’s neck. “You ride so good.”
He started to suck at the sensitive skin of Est's collarbone and chest, leaving dark, messy marks that bloomed like bruises in the dim light. Est’s head was thrown back against the wall, his eyes rolled back, a continuous, broken string of moans spilling from his lips. The sensation of being carried, filled, and claimed all at once was too much; it was a sensory overload that made his skin feel like it was on fire.
"Will... please, please," Est began to beg, his voice a ragged whisper. "I can't— I want you. The bed... now."
The desperation in Est's voice seemed to snap the last thread of William’s restraint. He pivoted on his heel and carried Est the short distance to the bed, collapsing them both onto the mattress. The springs groaned under their combined weight, but William was already moving, pulling his fingers away with a wet, suggestive sound that made Est whimper at the sudden coldness.
The separation lasted only seconds. Est didn't hesitate, his hands shaking with a frantic energy as he peeled the soaked, heavy fabric of his shirt over his head and kicked off his shorts.
Across from him, William was doing the same, his movements more aggressive and impatient. He shed his wet clothes like a second skin, his eyes never leaving Est’s body. The sight of him— muscular, flushed, and fully aroused— was enough to make Est’s breath catch. There was no more whining, no more playful pouting; as the last of their clothes hit the floor, William crawled back over him, a dark, heavy shadow that promised to fulfill every desperate word Est had whispered against the wall.
William moved with a heavy-limbed, drunken grace, maneuvering Est’s body until he had him positioned exactly where he wanted. He grabbed Est’s ankles, pulling them upward and pressing his legs together until Est was practically folded in half, his knees pinned toward his chest. It was a vulnerable, high-intensity position that left Est completely open, his breath coming in short, jagged hitches as he looked up at the dark silhouette of the man above him.
William hovered there for a moment, his gaze roaming over every inch of exposed skin, looking like a starving man finally seated at a banquet. He leaned down, but instead of going for the heat between Est's thighs, he started at the ankles. He began to lick and nip at the delicate bone of Est’s ankle, his tongue sweeping over the skin with a wet, rhythmic devotion.
Est let out a high, needy whine, his head tossing back against the pillows. "Will... what are you—"
William didn't answer with words. He was like a puppy with his favorite treat, completely absorbed in the sensation, his nose brushing against Est’s calves as he worked his way up. The worship was maddening. Every lick was a deliberate, agonizingly slow claim that made Est’s toes curl and his hips twitch in a desperate search for more.
Finally, William crawled upward, his heavy chest settling over Est's folded form. Their faces were inches apart, the air between them thick with the scent of whiskey and the salt of the festival. Est was so far gone, so overwhelmed by the three weeks of silence, that he tilted his head back and stuck his tongue out in a wordless, filthy invitation.
William’s eyes darkened to near-black. He lunged. He caught Est’s tongue with his own, his mouth wide and hungry as he literally licked into Est’s mouth, swirling his tongue around Est's before sucking it deep into his own mouth. It was a wet, possessive sound, the friction making Est’s brain go completely white.
When William finally pulled back, he didn't go far. A thick, silver bridge of spit stretched between their lips, glistening in the amber light of the room. It hung there for a heartbeat—a visceral, messy connection that summed up exactly how ruined they both were. William stared at it, a slow, predatory smirk spreading across his face as he watched the string snap and settle onto Est’s chin.
"Fuck. You’re so hot, phi," William growled, his voice a low vibration that Est felt deep in his gut.
The bridge of spit hadn't even settled before William was moving. He gripped Est’s folded knees, shoving them back until they were pinned nearly to Est's chest, and with one heavy, unrelenting surge, he buried himself deep inside.
The impact was visceral. Est’s back arched so violently his head slammed into the headboard, a shattered, strangled scream tearing from his throat. It wasn't a soft entry but an invasion.
"Will— fuck. William!"
Est’s eyes rolled back, his vision fracturing into white sparks as his body tried to accommodate the sudden, massive fullness. He felt stretched to the breaking point, his muscles twitching in shock, but before he could even catch his breath, William started to move.
It was brutal. William was driving into Est with a frantic, uncoordinated aggression, his hips slamming against Est’s backside with a heavy, wet rhythm that echoed through the silent room. Every thrust was deep and punishing, aimed at the very back of Est’s throat.
"Est... Est...P’Est," William chanted, the name a jagged, breathless prayer.
He was completely lost to the alcohol and the friction, his hands moving from Est's knees to his hair, winding the damp strands around his fingers to pull Est’s head back at a sharp, dizzying angle. He wanted to see every flicker of agony and ecstasy on Est’s face.
“Ah! Fucking good— so fuckin— ah! goodngh!”
Est was a mess. Tears began to leak from the corners of his eyes, blurring the sight of the ceiling as he was pounded into the mattress. He was moaning like a wounded animal, the sounds breaking into high, frantic sobs as William’s pace turned even more frantic. He didn't know where to put his hands, his fingers clawing at the sheets, then at William’s sweating forearms, then grabbing the headboard as he was practically lifted off the bed with every thrust.
"Look at me," William growled, his voice a terrifying, guttural rasp. He leaned down, his sweat dripping onto Est’s flushed chest, his face contorted with a mix of pain and pleasure. "Look at what you're doing to me. You’re so tight— fucking hell, phi—"
He surged again, even harder, his weight crushing Est into the bed. He was fucking him with a desperate, kinky intensity, his body a heavy, relentless machine that didn't know how to stop. Est’s head thrashed from side to side, his cries turning into wordless, high-pitched begging as the friction built into a terrifying, unbearable peak.
"Please! Will... more! Ahngh— harder," Est sobbed, his voice breaking as he completely lost himself to the madness.
William obeyed, his grip on Est’s waist tightening until his knuckles were white, anchoring him for a final, relentless assault. He surged forward, his hips slamming home with a brutal, bone-deep finality that felt like it was splitting Est in two.
"Phi, I’m gonna cum," William let out a shattered, guttural roar, his head throwing back as his entire body spasmed. He emptied himself deep inside, the hot, pulsing friction of the release sending Est over the edge.
“Oh my— fuck—!” Est’s own scream was a high, jagged sound that died in a choked sob, his body vibrating with a violent, uncontrollable climax that left him paralyzed against the mattress.
But the silence didn't last. Before Est could even catch his breath, before his vision could even clear from the white-hot burst of the orgasm, William was moving again.
William slid down Est’s body, his heavy weight shifting until he was positioned between Est's trembling, spread thighs. Without a second of hesitation, he buried his face between Est's cheeks, his tongue lashing out to greedily lap at the mess they had just made.
"W-Will! Stop— please, I can't!" Est shrieked, his hands flying to William's hair to try and pull him away, but his strength was gone.
William was already eating him out.
It was relentless, his tongue swirling and deep, tasting the salt of the night and the thick, hot evidence of their release. The sensation was a terrifying, electric jolt to Est's already fried nerves. It was pure overstimulation; every nerve ending in Est's body was screaming, his skin so sensitive it felt like it was being flayed by the touch.
He started crying in earnest then— fat, hot tears streaming into his ears as he thrashed his head against the pillows. His body wouldn't stop reacting; the intense, focused attention on his core forced a second, even more violent wave of pleasure through him. He was coming again, his hips bucking weakly against William’s face, his voice reduced to a broken, continuous string of sobs. It was too much, too fast, a chaotic blur of whiskey-soaked madness that didn't end until he finally went limp, completely undone by the man who refused to let him go.
William finally felt the tremor of Est’s second, forced climax ripple through his thighs, the younger man’s body going completely slack as the last of his strength evaporated. Only then did William lift his head, his face a wet, depraved mess of sweat and the fluids he’d been devouring. He looked up at Est— whose eyes were rolled back, chest heaving in shallow, broken gasps— and felt a fresh surge of dark, drunken possessiveness.
William crawled back up Est’s body, his heavy limbs pinning Est deeper into the mattress. Before their lips could meet, William reached out, his large hand clamping firmly around Est’s jaw. He squeezed, his thumb and forefinger digging into Est’s flushed cheeks until Est was forced to unhinge his jaw, his mouth falling open in a wordless, vulnerable O.
William hovered over him, his gaze fixed on Est’s trembling tongue. Then, with a slow, deliberate tilt of his head, he gathered the thick, viscous heat in his mouth— a filthy, potent cocktail of his own cum, their combined saliva, and the slick remains of Est’s core— and let it fall.
The glob hit Est’s tongue with a wet, heavy sound.
Est’s eyes snapped shut, a strangled moan vibrating in his throat as he tasted the visceral evidence of everything they had just done. It was the ultimate mark of ownership, a salt-heavy reminder of William’s dominance over his body.
Before Est could even swallow, William crashed his mouth down onto his. He reclaimed the mess he had just gifted, his tongue sweeping through Est’s mouth to swirl the fluids together in a wet, desperate friction. It was a filthy, uncoordinated exchange, the sound of their lips squelching and snapping echoing in the dark room. William groaned into the kiss, his hand never letting go of Est’s jaw, forcing him to take every drop, every taste, until the line between where one ended and the other began was completely erased in the amber-lit shadows of the apartment.
The wet, rhythmic slapping of their lips finally broke with a heavy, viscous sound. William pulled back just enough to press his forehead against Est’s, his breath coming in hot, ragged hitches that smelled of whiskey and raw hunger. His thumb traced the bruised line of Est’s jaw, his eyes dark and dilated as he stared down at the wreck he’d made.
"I fucking love you," William growled, the confession sounding more like a threat than a sentiment. He leaned down, his voice dropping to a jagged, possessive rasp against Est’s ear. "You’re mine, P’Est. Every fucking inch of you. Don't you ever leave for that long again."
Est’s head was still spinning, his body buzzing with the kind of overstimulation that made even the air feel like sandpaper against his skin. But as he looked up at William— flushed, arrogant, and looking entirely too satisfied— a spark of drunken defiance flared in his chest.
"Is that it?" Est wheezed, a lopsided, challenging smirk pulling at his swollen lips. He reached up, his fingers digging into the muscles of William’s shoulders as he used the last of his strength to heave. With a sudden, messy surge of momentum, he flipped them over, pinning William’s back into the damp sheets.
Est hovered over him, his hair a wild mess, his eyes burning with a manic sort of need. "Because I don't remember saying you could stop. I need more, Will. I need—"
He leaned down, his mouth inches from William’s, ready to drag them both back into the heat.
But the world had other plans.
The adrenaline that had been fueling William’s whiskey-soaked system finally hit a wall. As Est went in for the kill, William’s eyes flickered, his head lolled back against the pillow, and a soft, rhythmic snore escaped his lips. He was out— completely, undeniably unconscious, his body going limp beneath Est’s weight.
Est froze, his heart still hammering against his ribs, his mouth still wet from the kiss they hadn't finished. He stared at William’s peaceful, sleeping face for a long beat, then let out a frustrated, strangled groan that was half-laugh and half-sob.
"You've got to be kidding me," Est whispered to the empty room, collapsing onto William’s chest.
He was still hard, still shaking, and pinned to a man who was currently dreaming about the after-party.