I've seen you looking, Nate. You saying if I said I'd fuck you you wouldn't be up for it?
[ His hand on his chest moves, lifts, curling a bit around Nate's neck. It's in part just holding himself upright, not really any more intent than that, but even then he's stroking his fingers a little against his skin.
[He can't think of a single thing to say. His alcohol soaked mind is just convinced he's imagining all of this. But god it feels nice to have him touching him like that, that small stroking of his fingers.
Remembering to breathe is about as much as he can manage.
[ And then it happens. He doesn't plan it or think about it. But he does move in, almost stumbling against him as he presses his lips to Nate's. Its a bit awkward and messy at first, just pressure of lips on lips, but that doesn't last long. Because fuck he really does have soft lips doesn't he? ]
[Nothing sobers you up faster than your best friend kissing you when you know how freaked out it will make them. Worse yet when you've started to realize you have some feelings for them.
And wow it's nice to kiss him.
Maybe it's the shock that causes his lips to slightly part, but it's quickly a little less than chaste now.]
[ It had been... he's not sure, some sort of a joke? Drunken logic is hardly the most well thought out. It had just seemed like a fun thing to do, but now? Now his hand is moving and clutching the side of Nate's face as he rolls his tongue towards those parted lips and against Nate's.
There's a shift somewhere. From a kiss for a laugh, a kiss that's most definitely just to his mate, to something else entirely.
Trouble is he's just to drunk to recognise any of it. ]
[Feeling Matt's tongue move, brushing against his own, there's a quiet noise that Nate can't stop himself from making.
Lucy was right. He's good. Probably right about all of it, he guesses.
He'd like to find out.
His hands move, steadying himself by resting at Matt's hips. He can't think too much about this or he knows he'll say or do something wrong. So instead he just goes by instinct, tugging Matt a little closer as he meets him in the kiss, not a passive participant but definitely proving he knows what he's doing.]
[ Matt's jeans are tight. His dick hard inside them, and that's weird, that's definitely fucking weird. He's turned on by this. That was never the point was it?
What was the point?
Does it fucking matter? Because he's really enjoying this kiss, a slight gruff noise as he feels Nate tug against him. It doesn't snap him out of it, he's too far gone for that. Too many shots down the line for any sort of realisation. So instead he just focuses on kissing him like it's the only thing he can do, like it's the only thing he wants to do. And really? Right now? It is. ]
[Nate has felt enough erections in his day to recognize it, even while fucking hammered. His hips press forward slightly. It's an instinct really.
The kiss is good, but sloppy. Not his best work really, but they're drunk so who cares. Nate's teeth graze Matt's bottom lip, teasing a bit. He doesn't want this to end.]
[ It rings in Matt's head how Nate said he'd let that bloke from the bar fuck him. Would he let him fuck him? Why's something like that even entering his mind? His hearing is muffled, and head still ringing from the noise of the club, barely seeing straight. But this? This is good. This is really fucking good.
That scrape of his teeth sends a current along his spine and his hand pushes up into his hair, bunching into a fist and grabbing a little as he kisses him back all the more fiercely, tongue and teeth and desire all wrapped up in a drunk package. ]
[He can hardly remember a time when he's ever been more turned on. Fuck this is nice. He can taste the last shot they took before they left the club, feeling a bit like he's drowning in the sensations.
His fingers curl a bit, holding on to the bottom hem of Matt's shirt. This is dangerous. What happens after this? Anything?
The moment is broken by Nate's phone buzzing behind him. A text from the club guy. He breaks away, glancing over his shoulder.]
[ Breaking away ends it, like a plug pulled out on a set of lights. Everything seems a little dull, and the world still spins as he reaches up and touches his hand to his lips. ]
Hey that's your Brendan. Brian-- Whassisface. You should er-- [ he waves a hand. Go get some. ]
[Part of him wants to stay, wants to ask what that was. Wants to kiss him again, honestly. But he knows he can't. They're just drunk. This is just a drunk thing.]
Yeah, I'll-- yeah. See you.
[He has to leave. Before it can sink in. So he goes and hopes that tomorrow won't be weird.]
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[ and by the magic of the narrative they are arriving home. Getting a key in the door is fucking hard man ]
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[He's barely through the door before he starts putting in that guys number and texting him.]
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[ yay they made it inside ]
No but I told you you'd get some right? You're a great fucking bloke, Nate. You really are. Good looking bloke. You could have your pick.
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And you could do fucking damage with those cheekbones man. Like a fucking model aren't ya. Tell you what if I liked blokes I'd be all over ya.
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Oh. Well, thanks. You know a guy told me once that kissing me was almost like kissing a woman.
[Just a fun fact for you.]
Think he meant it as a compliment. Dunno.
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[ he starts to laugh, looking at Nate's lips because yeah they look pretty soft and nice and all he supposed. ]
Well you know what.
[ he sort of stumbles as he faces him, pointing a finger against his chest and basically poking him ]
You should let me be the judge of that.
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Yeah? You want to be the final say for that one?
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I know you fancy me. It's okay. It's cool.
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Course I don't. I don't fall for straight guys. Bet you're a crap kisser anyway.
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[ His hand on his chest moves, lifts, curling a bit around Nate's neck. It's in part just holding himself upright, not really any more intent than that, but even then he's stroking his fingers a little against his skin.
Fuck he's drunk. ]
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Remembering to breathe is about as much as he can manage.
Which probably says a lot.]
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And wow it's nice to kiss him.
Maybe it's the shock that causes his lips to slightly part, but it's quickly a little less than chaste now.]
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There's a shift somewhere. From a kiss for a laugh, a kiss that's most definitely just to his mate, to something else entirely.
Trouble is he's just to drunk to recognise any of it. ]
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Lucy was right. He's good. Probably right about all of it, he guesses.
He'd like to find out.
His hands move, steadying himself by resting at Matt's hips. He can't think too much about this or he knows he'll say or do something wrong. So instead he just goes by instinct, tugging Matt a little closer as he meets him in the kiss, not a passive participant but definitely proving he knows what he's doing.]
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What was the point?
Does it fucking matter? Because he's really enjoying this kiss, a slight gruff noise as he feels Nate tug against him. It doesn't snap him out of it, he's too far gone for that. Too many shots down the line for any sort of realisation. So instead he just focuses on kissing him like it's the only thing he can do, like it's the only thing he wants to do. And really? Right now? It is. ]
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The kiss is good, but sloppy. Not his best work really, but they're drunk so who cares. Nate's teeth graze Matt's bottom lip, teasing a bit. He doesn't want this to end.]
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That scrape of his teeth sends a current along his spine and his hand pushes up into his hair, bunching into a fist and grabbing a little as he kisses him back all the more fiercely, tongue and teeth and desire all wrapped up in a drunk package. ]
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His fingers curl a bit, holding on to the bottom hem of Matt's shirt. This is dangerous. What happens after this? Anything?
The moment is broken by Nate's phone buzzing behind him. A text from the club guy. He breaks away, glancing over his shoulder.]
Shit.
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Hey that's your Brendan. Brian-- Whassisface. You should er-- [ he waves a hand. Go get some. ]
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Yeah, I'll-- yeah. See you.
[He has to leave. Before it can sink in. So he goes and hopes that tomorrow won't be weird.]
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