All's Fair...
folder
Erotica › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
8
Views:
11,733
Reviews:
32
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Erotica › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
8
Views:
11,733
Reviews:
32
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This story is a work of fiction. I definitely own these characters. Uh huh. They're mine. But I'm not making any money off them, so don't worry. And if these characters resemble anyone living or dead, it iss purely coincidence, prom
...in Being Shitfaced and Making Mistakes.
I didn’t want to be there.
The moment I walked into the party, I just knew. I could feel it in the air alongside the smell of alcohol and pot smoke; something was just begging me to leave. And I would have, right there, two seconds into the doorway, if Ryan hadn’t spotted me, grabbed my wrist and dragged me into the kitchen wasting no time.
“You actually came!” He beamed, shoving a red solo cup into my hand filled with something that looked like a rum and coke. “I’m impressed,” he grinned. I tried my best to feign interest, smiling at him a little half-assedly.
“Yeah,” I replied with more than a little discontent. “I’m as surprised as you are.” I took a sip of the brown, bubbly liquid. Way too much alcohol. So I chugged it back and grabbed another, heading out of the kitchen with a distracted wave at Ryan over my shoulder.
It wasn’t that I disliked parties, and I was hardly anti-social… aside from recently. I just didn’t feel like being there, surrounded by a bunch of people I did know, avoiding the ones that I did. Especially Cameron. Even as I took a decent sized gulp of my second drink, I found myself scanning the crowd, looking for his chocolate colored hair, his mesmerizing eyes, and chiding myself every time his lack of presence seemed to disappoint me.
Eventually, I gave up. There was no way I was escaping without Ryan finding out, so that left me with either sitting in a corner being sorry for myself or trying to have a decent time. I opted for somewhere in the middle, walking through the oversized apartment, offering clipped conversation when people bothered to grab my attention, always keeping one eye out for Cameron. Maybe if I was lucky, he’d have a change of plans and be unable to come. I went to down the last of my drink only to find that it was already empty. With a scowl, a grabbed a fresh cup off of the table and leaned against the wall, cringing when the new drink turned out to be primarily vodka. Nasty, citrusy vodka with probably a teaspoon of club soda to its name. Classy.
“You’re Liam, right?” A voice spoke up from my side, instantly grabbing my attention. It was a nice voice, soothing and deep but still surprisingly tenor.
Maybe I should ask him if he can sing like one. I blinked. I may be a little buzzed…
The voice belonged to a guy about 5’ 11” with a lip piercing and obviously dyed black hair styled into a Justin Bieber type side swoop, eyes like honey looking over at me from underneath. He was pretty fucking attractive if my partially intoxicated mind didn’t say so itself. I smirked.
“Who’s askin’?” I offered, internally rolling my eyes at how not sexy that had sounded. The guy just laughed though, the sound almost like a breath against my face. Or maybe it was a breath against my face.
When did he lean in closer like that?
“I’m Justin.” The guy said, a hot breath of sound tinged with rum. I tried my hardest not to laugh at the irony of his name and his hair as he continued. “Wanna dance?”
It wasn’t until then that I heard the music blaring from Jordan Stills’ speakers; some sort of techno shit that I didn’t particularly enjoy. I shook my head, taking a swig of the throat burning vodka. “I don’t dance,” I said through a choke. Justin pouted, the look actually pretty attractive on him.
“Come on, Liam.” He pleaded, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the dance floor. I shook my head again, but it was a lame attempt, the two of us already on the dance floor before my mind could catch up. My footing was less than sturdy, my vision disjointed, but still, I downed the last of my drink and put the cup on the TV set behind me, if only just so that I could put my hands on Justin to keep from falling over.
Fucking lightweight bitch…
Justin grinned at me, turning around so that I could grind against him to the bass pounding beat of the song. Which I did, running one hand through his Bieber hair and clutching almost harshly at his hip with the other as I rocked my hips. I don’t know when it happened, but somewhere in the bumping and grinding and generally too close for public motions, I saw him, not even bothering with a warning before walking away from Justin. He might have said something, but I didn’t hear it. All I knew, all that managed to break through the already too evident haze of drunkenness I was under, was the image of Cameron, all sexy and smiling and sitting on the couch in the room right next to us, hidden partially by a throng of people and a side wall. People I must have quickly broken through, because next thing I knew, I was in front of him, my heart warming at the way his smile brightened just slightly when he noticed me. Or maybe I just thought it had. Either way, he looked hotter than I’d ever seen him, his brown hair covered by a red and blue beanie, his button up shirt abandoned on the arm of the couch leaving only a black wife beater covering toned abs and chest, arms bare and muscled and motioning for me to join him, lips saying something I couldn’t hear, something not nearly as important as the way that mouth formed those words, that tongue darting between those lips, those eyes watching me, pulling me in, widening when I somehow found myself straddling him rather than sitting next to him like I’d intended.
I should move. I should get off him, leave, run away, do something. Anything.
Cameron watched me, reading me as always, understanding without asking that I was totally shitfaced and totally out of my head, and totally leaning towards him, unable to stop, unable to even recognize the fact that my mouth was already on his, hot and wet and desperate. The world seemed to stop, my muddled brain trying to comprehend what was happening, what I was doing, whether or not the lack of response in Cameron’s tongue was surprise or disgust. Either way, it slowly began to sink in that I was not only kissing Cameron, something I’d dreamt about on numerous occasions, but I was also grinding against him, sporting a hard on that could probably cut through glass.
And I was doing it in front of the entire fucking party.
The realization was like jumping into an ice bath. I pulled away from Cameron, breaking the kiss with an almost audible pop, our eyes locking in a way that was almost torture to hold on to. A blush burned at my cheeks, my breathing heavy, my heart hammering against my chest, my throat tight.
Oh fuck. Oh fuck! Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck!
“Cameron, I-” I tried to speak, but my voice was hoarse, shaky, alien. And Cameron’s eyes were drilling into me, still wide eyed, more than a little stunned. And confused. And apologetic…
Oh god. Oh fuck, what have I done? Oh shit… Shit shit shit!
Instead of saying anything else that would make matters worse, I wrenched myself off of his paralyzed form and disappeared behind the crowd of people who, somehow, hadn’t noticed what had happened, most of whom still dancing to the now too loud, too grating techno. I could barely walk straight, my mind racing, my stomach clenching in on itself painfully. The backs of my eyes stung fiercely, but I willed myself not to cry. The last thing I needed was to make this worse by causing a drunken, weepy scene.
I’d just ruined everything.
And to make matters worse, even with all that had happened, I could still feel the sickening feelings of lust running through my veins. Being so close to Cameron, so close to what I’d always wanted, it left a shadow of desire, following me through the party, the taste of him still on my tongue, the smell of him still in the air around me. It gave me chills, made my dick twitch in my pants. I needed to get out of here. I needed to get out of here now.
“Liam, wait!” I heard Justin call me, but I ignored it… until I felt a hand on my shoulder, the tension running through me making that simple touch seem like a bolt of electricity. I turned to face him, ready to tell him to back off, to let me leave the fucking party in peace, but the look in his eyes was only curious, not judgmental. And most certainly not unattractive. “What happened back there?”
Maybe it was the way he was smiling obliviously at me, maybe it was the insane desire to leave mixed with the equally as oppressing desire to just fuck somebody… Right now… But before an argument could present itself, I was leading Justin out to my car.
---
A/N: Just wanted to thank everyone who's reading this for... well, reading this lol I know it's different, but I think I needed to write it. Another update in the works, hopefully quicker this time ^_^ Oh and can I just say WOW!!! to over 12,000 hits on MYOB?! That is all. Comments are always welcome. Smutness to come!
The moment I walked into the party, I just knew. I could feel it in the air alongside the smell of alcohol and pot smoke; something was just begging me to leave. And I would have, right there, two seconds into the doorway, if Ryan hadn’t spotted me, grabbed my wrist and dragged me into the kitchen wasting no time.
“You actually came!” He beamed, shoving a red solo cup into my hand filled with something that looked like a rum and coke. “I’m impressed,” he grinned. I tried my best to feign interest, smiling at him a little half-assedly.
“Yeah,” I replied with more than a little discontent. “I’m as surprised as you are.” I took a sip of the brown, bubbly liquid. Way too much alcohol. So I chugged it back and grabbed another, heading out of the kitchen with a distracted wave at Ryan over my shoulder.
It wasn’t that I disliked parties, and I was hardly anti-social… aside from recently. I just didn’t feel like being there, surrounded by a bunch of people I did know, avoiding the ones that I did. Especially Cameron. Even as I took a decent sized gulp of my second drink, I found myself scanning the crowd, looking for his chocolate colored hair, his mesmerizing eyes, and chiding myself every time his lack of presence seemed to disappoint me.
Eventually, I gave up. There was no way I was escaping without Ryan finding out, so that left me with either sitting in a corner being sorry for myself or trying to have a decent time. I opted for somewhere in the middle, walking through the oversized apartment, offering clipped conversation when people bothered to grab my attention, always keeping one eye out for Cameron. Maybe if I was lucky, he’d have a change of plans and be unable to come. I went to down the last of my drink only to find that it was already empty. With a scowl, a grabbed a fresh cup off of the table and leaned against the wall, cringing when the new drink turned out to be primarily vodka. Nasty, citrusy vodka with probably a teaspoon of club soda to its name. Classy.
“You’re Liam, right?” A voice spoke up from my side, instantly grabbing my attention. It was a nice voice, soothing and deep but still surprisingly tenor.
Maybe I should ask him if he can sing like one. I blinked. I may be a little buzzed…
The voice belonged to a guy about 5’ 11” with a lip piercing and obviously dyed black hair styled into a Justin Bieber type side swoop, eyes like honey looking over at me from underneath. He was pretty fucking attractive if my partially intoxicated mind didn’t say so itself. I smirked.
“Who’s askin’?” I offered, internally rolling my eyes at how not sexy that had sounded. The guy just laughed though, the sound almost like a breath against my face. Or maybe it was a breath against my face.
When did he lean in closer like that?
“I’m Justin.” The guy said, a hot breath of sound tinged with rum. I tried my hardest not to laugh at the irony of his name and his hair as he continued. “Wanna dance?”
It wasn’t until then that I heard the music blaring from Jordan Stills’ speakers; some sort of techno shit that I didn’t particularly enjoy. I shook my head, taking a swig of the throat burning vodka. “I don’t dance,” I said through a choke. Justin pouted, the look actually pretty attractive on him.
“Come on, Liam.” He pleaded, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the dance floor. I shook my head again, but it was a lame attempt, the two of us already on the dance floor before my mind could catch up. My footing was less than sturdy, my vision disjointed, but still, I downed the last of my drink and put the cup on the TV set behind me, if only just so that I could put my hands on Justin to keep from falling over.
Fucking lightweight bitch…
Justin grinned at me, turning around so that I could grind against him to the bass pounding beat of the song. Which I did, running one hand through his Bieber hair and clutching almost harshly at his hip with the other as I rocked my hips. I don’t know when it happened, but somewhere in the bumping and grinding and generally too close for public motions, I saw him, not even bothering with a warning before walking away from Justin. He might have said something, but I didn’t hear it. All I knew, all that managed to break through the already too evident haze of drunkenness I was under, was the image of Cameron, all sexy and smiling and sitting on the couch in the room right next to us, hidden partially by a throng of people and a side wall. People I must have quickly broken through, because next thing I knew, I was in front of him, my heart warming at the way his smile brightened just slightly when he noticed me. Or maybe I just thought it had. Either way, he looked hotter than I’d ever seen him, his brown hair covered by a red and blue beanie, his button up shirt abandoned on the arm of the couch leaving only a black wife beater covering toned abs and chest, arms bare and muscled and motioning for me to join him, lips saying something I couldn’t hear, something not nearly as important as the way that mouth formed those words, that tongue darting between those lips, those eyes watching me, pulling me in, widening when I somehow found myself straddling him rather than sitting next to him like I’d intended.
I should move. I should get off him, leave, run away, do something. Anything.
Cameron watched me, reading me as always, understanding without asking that I was totally shitfaced and totally out of my head, and totally leaning towards him, unable to stop, unable to even recognize the fact that my mouth was already on his, hot and wet and desperate. The world seemed to stop, my muddled brain trying to comprehend what was happening, what I was doing, whether or not the lack of response in Cameron’s tongue was surprise or disgust. Either way, it slowly began to sink in that I was not only kissing Cameron, something I’d dreamt about on numerous occasions, but I was also grinding against him, sporting a hard on that could probably cut through glass.
And I was doing it in front of the entire fucking party.
The realization was like jumping into an ice bath. I pulled away from Cameron, breaking the kiss with an almost audible pop, our eyes locking in a way that was almost torture to hold on to. A blush burned at my cheeks, my breathing heavy, my heart hammering against my chest, my throat tight.
Oh fuck. Oh fuck! Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck!
“Cameron, I-” I tried to speak, but my voice was hoarse, shaky, alien. And Cameron’s eyes were drilling into me, still wide eyed, more than a little stunned. And confused. And apologetic…
Oh god. Oh fuck, what have I done? Oh shit… Shit shit shit!
Instead of saying anything else that would make matters worse, I wrenched myself off of his paralyzed form and disappeared behind the crowd of people who, somehow, hadn’t noticed what had happened, most of whom still dancing to the now too loud, too grating techno. I could barely walk straight, my mind racing, my stomach clenching in on itself painfully. The backs of my eyes stung fiercely, but I willed myself not to cry. The last thing I needed was to make this worse by causing a drunken, weepy scene.
I’d just ruined everything.
And to make matters worse, even with all that had happened, I could still feel the sickening feelings of lust running through my veins. Being so close to Cameron, so close to what I’d always wanted, it left a shadow of desire, following me through the party, the taste of him still on my tongue, the smell of him still in the air around me. It gave me chills, made my dick twitch in my pants. I needed to get out of here. I needed to get out of here now.
“Liam, wait!” I heard Justin call me, but I ignored it… until I felt a hand on my shoulder, the tension running through me making that simple touch seem like a bolt of electricity. I turned to face him, ready to tell him to back off, to let me leave the fucking party in peace, but the look in his eyes was only curious, not judgmental. And most certainly not unattractive. “What happened back there?”
Maybe it was the way he was smiling obliviously at me, maybe it was the insane desire to leave mixed with the equally as oppressing desire to just fuck somebody… Right now… But before an argument could present itself, I was leading Justin out to my car.
---
A/N: Just wanted to thank everyone who's reading this for... well, reading this lol I know it's different, but I think I needed to write it. Another update in the works, hopefully quicker this time ^_^ Oh and can I just say WOW!!! to over 12,000 hits on MYOB?! That is all. Comments are always welcome. Smutness to come!