fic: the one where they share clothes and get high (part II)
fic: the one where they share clothes and get high (part II)
fandom: the social network
pairing: mark/eduardo
notes: for the tsn_kinkmeme prompt "They're sharing clothing and Dustin realises." this bit takes place around two weeks later.
“I didn’t know you were a fencing champion, Eduardo-”
“Not champion,” he says, laughing, pointing a chopstick at Dustin, “Second place. I was so close.”
“In Connecticut, wow, that’s a long way from Miami.”
“Well, you know how dedicated I am to my craft. Parry! Thrust!” He hits Dustin on the head with a chopstick, then stabs a piece of orange chicken. “Ah yes, chicken. I have conquered you.”
Mark laughs, only a little uneasily, and takes another bite of fried rice.
“That’s how I became the prince of Brazil, actually,” Eduardo continues, still mock-stabbing at his food. “I challenged the king to a duel, to the death-”
“No, to the pain!” Dustin yells. They all watched Princess Bride a week ago, and Dustin still won’t stop quoting it.
“Oh of course,” Eduardo says, dragging out the “o”. He just finished a midterm he’d stayed up all night for, and he’s slap-happy, laughing at everything, eyes bloodshot. He’d come in, collapsed on Mark’s bed, and now he was wearing Mark’s 1999 Second Place Deerfield Fencing Tournament t-shirt. And Dustin was being... well, Dustin.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about Wardo, actually,” Mark says, and is about to start a rant about Eduardo’s penchant for 80’s hip-hop when Dustin coughs pointedly and waggles his eyebrows.
“And, uh, a lot you didn’t know about Dustin, Wardo,” Mark continues quickly, feeling his cheeks heat. “For instance, Dustin holds a world record in the Harry Potter computer game while simultaneously dominating the world’s lowest number of girls who want to bone him. It’s a prestigious award.”
Eduardo laughs, mouth full, and Dustin gives him the finger.
“Bone is such a ridiculous term, isn’t it?” Eduardo says thoughtfully, taking a sip of his Beck’s. “Like, no one’s like, I want to muscle her. Mmmm, yeah, baby, let’s muscle. Let’s tendon.”
Dustin giggles (yet again!) and pulls out a plastic bag from his pocket. “Speaking of idiotic, pointless questions-” Eduardo mock-punches him “- I scored some shit off of this guy in my stats class. Do you wanna-” he motions over-exaggeratedly, and Eduardo shrugs and takes another bite.
“Sure. I don’t have anything to do.”
“Mark?”
Eduardo laughs. “He never does.”
“That’s right, because he’s too preeecious and speeecial. Mark.. Marky, please, smoke up with us, Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch. What would your namesake do?”
“Damn right he’d smoke some weed,” Eduardo says, grinning.
Mark rolls his eyes.
“One, I am not named after Mark Wahlberg. Two, I have to finish a project by Tuesday-”
“Dude, it’s Friday,” Dustin says, with puppy eyes. “As in, the day in which normal people go out, drink a little, and dance, etcetera, and yes, in the past I have curtailed my insanely busy social life in order to watch Princess Bride with you guys-” Eduardo scoffs. “- but tonight I want to see Mark Zuckerberg trying to code high. That’s my goal. Right there. That’s my life goal.”
“Dream big,” Eduardo says, but he raises his bottle in a silent toast.
----
An hour later, Dustin is sort of starting to regret his whole stay-in-and-smoke-with-Mark-and-Wardo plan. Because White Stripes is playing slow and lazy on his iHome and Mark and Eduardo are giving each other what Dustin’s mom would call “bedroom eyes”. Eww, and now he’s involved his mom. He takes another hit to dispel the Jewish guilt.
Mark’s only been high a handful of times, and he’s sitting loose-limbed in his desk chair, mumbling a little. Eduardo’s sprawled on the couch, too-small t-shirt riding up, and he keeps looking at Mark like he wants to straddle him right there.
“Mmm,” Eduardo says, and he puts his face in the crook of his arm and laughs for a solid minute. Mark laughs too, and Dustin’s left feeling like he didn’t get the joke.
“Gimme,” Eduardo says finally, motioning at Mark who has the joint now, and Mark shakes his head.
“Can’t move. Chair is my legs. Are my legs.”
Eduardo laughs again, breathless, and staggers up.
“Mm, okay, give me a hit-” he says, too close to Mark’s face, and Mark holds up the joint for him. Dustin can’t not watch, but they don’t do anything really, Mark just watches him as he inhales, licks his lips, and Eduardo grins and blows smoke out around his teeth. Coughs, a little, and collapses back on the couch. Dustin breathes out a sigh of relief. (Sexual) crisis averted.
“Are you - serious? Jesus Christ.” The door bangs open, and Dustin sees Chris, waving a hand through the smoke and coughing.
“Christopher! Hello!” Eduardo waves at him and starts laughing again.
“Hi Wardo.” Chris shakes his head, and opens the window. “You need to cover the smoke alarm, dipshits. If I have to pay, I will kill you.”
“No, Chris! No! Now that you are here, the gay to straight ratio is very high! Dangerously high!” Dustin shuts his mouth. He was totally gonna act cool. Stupid pot.
Chris makes a face at him and laughs. “Why, am I like, four people? Am I that gay? Or, ohmygod-” he puts a girly twist in his voice even as he’s shoving a towel under the door so no smoke will escape- “are you saying I’m, like, FAT?”
“What!” Dustin says to no one in particular. Fucking Chris. He loves messing with impaired people. One time he and Mark planned this epic ambush that was apparently going to convince Dustin that aliens were real, but Mark fell asleep before Dustin came back to the room. Chris was pissed off for weeks.
Eduardo and Mark don’t seem to notice- Eduardo has his phone out, and Mark looks vaguely put out that Eduardo’s not giving him fuck-me eyes anymore.
Chris throws another towel over the fire alarm thing, grabs a scarf off his bed, and takes the joint out of Mark’s fingers, stubs it out.
“You guys are high enough,” he pronounces, and Mark flicks him off, and finally just stands up and sits down next to Eduardo, close, so close, and Dustin gets crazy eyes and tries to grab Chris’ sleeve and show him, but Chris just gives him a weird look and pulls away.
“I’m gonna hang out in Brent’s room, okay?”
“Okay!” Dustin says in an insane high-pitched voice and Chris shoots him another look. What is he supposed to do? Chris is leaving him in a pit of intoxication and unresolved sexual tension!
Except, Eduardo puts a hand on Mark’s thigh, still scrolling through his phone, and maybe it’s not unresolved. Dustin shudders. Oh God, he is trapped. He flops back on his bed and starts to plan his response if they start fucking in front of him. He will make an outraged noise, like an eighteenth century maiden. Or maybe he will gasp loudly and point at both of them, like they always do on the soap opera his mom watches whenever the main lady discovers another bastard child she conceived while date-raped at the prom. Either way, it’s gonna be really dramatic, and it will totally show Chris... his eyes close.
Ironically enough, he’s woken up by a whisper of, “Wait. Is Dustin asleep?”
He opens his eyes, still feeling high and paranoid, and is someone breaking in to their room? He heard that can happen, and now they’re all going to get murdered in their sleep and their laptops stolen and code! His code! All of the code!
He moves minutely, shifts a little to his left, and looks down, over the floor, and oh thank God, they’re not being burglarized. Mark is just laying on top of Edu- wait, Mark is laying on top of Eduardo. He considers the scandalized-maiden gasp, but Eduardo puts a hand in Mark’s hair and grins against his lips, and he can’t cock-block his best friends. That’s totally against the bro code. He’s pretty sure gay hookups in the same room as one’s roommate is also against the bro code, but still - cock-blocking is just wrong.
“Yeah, yeah, he’s asleep,” Mark says, his normally flat voice all weird and crack-y, and he sort of shimmies against Eduardo and leans down and kisses him. Dustin closes his eyes, but he can still hear them.
“Shit, Mark-” Eduardo gasps after a minute. Dustin opens his eyes, and they’re still kissing, in that awesome way Dustin does when he’s high, all focused and soft and slow and lazy. But Mark’s hand goes between them, and Eduardo sucks in a breath, and okay, Dustin refuses to actually be in the same room with the result of his strict adherence to the bro code.
He clears his throat and rolls halfway over, and he hears them freeze.
“Did he-”
“Shh!” That’s Mark, and he sounds panicky.
“Hey. Hey, it’s okay. Let’s go to my room.”
“I’m so fucking high.”
Eduardo laughs breathlessly. “Me too, I just wanna- I wanna give you head-”
“Shh, Wardo, Jesus!”
Dustin’s mouth drops open. He did not just say that.
Eduardo’s still giggling, muffled, and Mark says, “Fine, fine, let’s- Wardo-”
Dustin hears them stumble out of the room, and when the door clicks shut behind them, he sits bolt upright in bed.
---
“Chris? Chris!”
Chris is laughing into the phone, and there’s music playing. “Yeah?”
“Is that- Lady Gaga? Never mind, never mind, okay, Chris. You need to be here right now.”
“Why?”
“It’s- it’s Wardo! And Mark! Chris, come back to the room. Room is crisis central right now. It’s the Batcave right now. Room is the place to be.”
“Oh my God, you’re so stoned-” he breaks off and says to someone- yeah, sorry, my suitemate, he’s high off his ass and I think he’s having a breakdown-
“Don’t! Don’t say that to your gay party! Come back!”
“Are they okay?”
“No! Well, yes. But we need to talk!” He doesn’t want to be homophobic. It’s okay to be gay! Chris has pounded that into his head enough times.
“Jesus. Okay. I’m coming home. Relax.”
“And then he said he’d give Mark head, shit, that rhymes, and they left!”
Chris nods, not nearly as shocked as he should be. “Wow. Okay.”
“Chris! Why are you not, like, freaking out?”
“Come on, Dustin. We both guessed it would happen at some point.”
“Wait. No we did not. We never guessed this at all. I’m sorry I don’t have like, gaydar, or whatever, and I know there were the shirts, and the sharing, and the meaningful looks, but how does it even work out that they smoke and then get blowjobs? Like, that’s what should happen to me. I smoke weed and I am left alone in my room, with no blow jobs. Never any for me. I want one for my very own!”
Chris laughs, and then stops, and then waves his hand in front of his face. “Dustin! Jesus!”
Dustin’s been staring at Chris’ mouth, eyes a little glazed. He starts when Chris says his name, and looks at him, eyes wide and terrified.
“Oh my God, I’m gay!”
“You’re not gay, idiot,” Chris says, standing up and picking up empty cups. “You’re just horny. “
“I don’t know,” Dustin says despondently, lying down again and closes his eyes. “I don’t know about this.”
“Well, don’t think about it then. Just relax.” Chris tosses the cups in the trash, and suddenly he’s sitting next to Dustin, and Dustin’s eyes pop open when Chris puts a hand on his crotch.
“How long have you been hard?” he asks, casually, like they’re talking about the weather, and Dustin props himself up on his elbows, eyes wide.
“What? What- Chris-”
“How long. Have you. Been hard.” Chris bites off each word, and cups Dustin and oh fuck, maybe he’s been hard since Eduardo and Mark left, maybe since he saw them kissing. It’s not fair! He gets insanely turned-on when he smokes, and they were kissing, and it was all wet, and then he started thinking about blow jobs. A saint would’ve gotten a boner.
“I- I don’t know-” he says, swallowing frantically.
Then Chris unzips his pants, and licks his lips, and Dustin is no saint.
“Chris-” he says weakly, even as he thrusts his hips up.
“Relax,” Chris says again, patting Dustin’s thigh, and he leans in and licks a stripe up his dick.
“Jesus CHRIST,” Dustin says in a high voice, and his hands clench into fists.
“Just Chris is fine,” Chris says, rolling his eyes, and he blows cool air over his wet cock and Dustin shudders, gasps.
“God, has anyone ever even-”
“Chris, please-”
Chris grins and takes him in. Dustin watches him, and his elbows keep falling and his eyes going shut but he can’t not watch, and he forces them open, and Chris looks up at him.
“Hey,” he says, breaking off, and puts Dustin’s hand in his hair. “Here. It’s okay.”
Dustin nods, and sobs when Chris swallows him. He didn’t even know people could- could do that, and he has gotten a blow job before, thank you very much, but it was in high school and the girl used way too much teeth, and pulled off before he could come.
Chris is way better. Is this what they learn in the GSA?, he thinks maniacally and Chris laughs around Dustin’s dick and Dustin comes. Chris swallows. Swallows, and Dustin is still recovering from that fact, when Chris looks up and says, “This is not what we learn in GSA, Dustin, you perv.”
So apparently he’d said that out loud. That’s almost as embarrassing as the fact that he just came in about .4 seconds. Luckily, Chris just grins at him, and pulls his pants back up with one hand.
“Feel better?” he says, and Dustin covers his face with one hand and nods about six too many times. Chris laughs.
“Don’t worry about it, alright? Now we’re all gay.” Dustin’s eyes pop open in panic and Chris nearly doubles over laughing at him.
“I’m kidding, dumbass. Go to sleep.”
Dustin dimly feels Chris throw a blanket over him, and he murmurs right before passing out, "I didn't even get to see Mark code high."
"But you got a blow job out of it, right?" Chris tucks the blanket under Dustin's chin, and Dustin nods sleepily.
"Yeah. You're right. It's okay to be gay." And he drifts off to the sound of Chris laughing.
THEEEE END
AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER IN SEXYTIMES OT4 GOODNESS
fandom: the social network
pairing: mark/eduardo
notes: for the tsn_kinkmeme prompt "They're sharing clothing and Dustin realises." this bit takes place around two weeks later.
“I didn’t know you were a fencing champion, Eduardo-”
“Not champion,” he says, laughing, pointing a chopstick at Dustin, “Second place. I was so close.”
“In Connecticut, wow, that’s a long way from Miami.”
“Well, you know how dedicated I am to my craft. Parry! Thrust!” He hits Dustin on the head with a chopstick, then stabs a piece of orange chicken. “Ah yes, chicken. I have conquered you.”
Mark laughs, only a little uneasily, and takes another bite of fried rice.
“That’s how I became the prince of Brazil, actually,” Eduardo continues, still mock-stabbing at his food. “I challenged the king to a duel, to the death-”
“No, to the pain!” Dustin yells. They all watched Princess Bride a week ago, and Dustin still won’t stop quoting it.
“Oh of course,” Eduardo says, dragging out the “o”. He just finished a midterm he’d stayed up all night for, and he’s slap-happy, laughing at everything, eyes bloodshot. He’d come in, collapsed on Mark’s bed, and now he was wearing Mark’s 1999 Second Place Deerfield Fencing Tournament t-shirt. And Dustin was being... well, Dustin.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about Wardo, actually,” Mark says, and is about to start a rant about Eduardo’s penchant for 80’s hip-hop when Dustin coughs pointedly and waggles his eyebrows.
“And, uh, a lot you didn’t know about Dustin, Wardo,” Mark continues quickly, feeling his cheeks heat. “For instance, Dustin holds a world record in the Harry Potter computer game while simultaneously dominating the world’s lowest number of girls who want to bone him. It’s a prestigious award.”
Eduardo laughs, mouth full, and Dustin gives him the finger.
“Bone is such a ridiculous term, isn’t it?” Eduardo says thoughtfully, taking a sip of his Beck’s. “Like, no one’s like, I want to muscle her. Mmmm, yeah, baby, let’s muscle. Let’s tendon.”
Dustin giggles (yet again!) and pulls out a plastic bag from his pocket. “Speaking of idiotic, pointless questions-” Eduardo mock-punches him “- I scored some shit off of this guy in my stats class. Do you wanna-” he motions over-exaggeratedly, and Eduardo shrugs and takes another bite.
“Sure. I don’t have anything to do.”
“Mark?”
Eduardo laughs. “He never does.”
“That’s right, because he’s too preeecious and speeecial. Mark.. Marky, please, smoke up with us, Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch. What would your namesake do?”
“Damn right he’d smoke some weed,” Eduardo says, grinning.
Mark rolls his eyes.
“One, I am not named after Mark Wahlberg. Two, I have to finish a project by Tuesday-”
“Dude, it’s Friday,” Dustin says, with puppy eyes. “As in, the day in which normal people go out, drink a little, and dance, etcetera, and yes, in the past I have curtailed my insanely busy social life in order to watch Princess Bride with you guys-” Eduardo scoffs. “- but tonight I want to see Mark Zuckerberg trying to code high. That’s my goal. Right there. That’s my life goal.”
“Dream big,” Eduardo says, but he raises his bottle in a silent toast.
----
An hour later, Dustin is sort of starting to regret his whole stay-in-and-smoke-with-Mark-and-Wardo plan. Because White Stripes is playing slow and lazy on his iHome and Mark and Eduardo are giving each other what Dustin’s mom would call “bedroom eyes”. Eww, and now he’s involved his mom. He takes another hit to dispel the Jewish guilt.
Mark’s only been high a handful of times, and he’s sitting loose-limbed in his desk chair, mumbling a little. Eduardo’s sprawled on the couch, too-small t-shirt riding up, and he keeps looking at Mark like he wants to straddle him right there.
“Mmm,” Eduardo says, and he puts his face in the crook of his arm and laughs for a solid minute. Mark laughs too, and Dustin’s left feeling like he didn’t get the joke.
“Gimme,” Eduardo says finally, motioning at Mark who has the joint now, and Mark shakes his head.
“Can’t move. Chair is my legs. Are my legs.”
Eduardo laughs again, breathless, and staggers up.
“Mm, okay, give me a hit-” he says, too close to Mark’s face, and Mark holds up the joint for him. Dustin can’t not watch, but they don’t do anything really, Mark just watches him as he inhales, licks his lips, and Eduardo grins and blows smoke out around his teeth. Coughs, a little, and collapses back on the couch. Dustin breathes out a sigh of relief. (Sexual) crisis averted.
“Are you - serious? Jesus Christ.” The door bangs open, and Dustin sees Chris, waving a hand through the smoke and coughing.
“Christopher! Hello!” Eduardo waves at him and starts laughing again.
“Hi Wardo.” Chris shakes his head, and opens the window. “You need to cover the smoke alarm, dipshits. If I have to pay, I will kill you.”
“No, Chris! No! Now that you are here, the gay to straight ratio is very high! Dangerously high!” Dustin shuts his mouth. He was totally gonna act cool. Stupid pot.
Chris makes a face at him and laughs. “Why, am I like, four people? Am I that gay? Or, ohmygod-” he puts a girly twist in his voice even as he’s shoving a towel under the door so no smoke will escape- “are you saying I’m, like, FAT?”
“What!” Dustin says to no one in particular. Fucking Chris. He loves messing with impaired people. One time he and Mark planned this epic ambush that was apparently going to convince Dustin that aliens were real, but Mark fell asleep before Dustin came back to the room. Chris was pissed off for weeks.
Eduardo and Mark don’t seem to notice- Eduardo has his phone out, and Mark looks vaguely put out that Eduardo’s not giving him fuck-me eyes anymore.
Chris throws another towel over the fire alarm thing, grabs a scarf off his bed, and takes the joint out of Mark’s fingers, stubs it out.
“You guys are high enough,” he pronounces, and Mark flicks him off, and finally just stands up and sits down next to Eduardo, close, so close, and Dustin gets crazy eyes and tries to grab Chris’ sleeve and show him, but Chris just gives him a weird look and pulls away.
“I’m gonna hang out in Brent’s room, okay?”
“Okay!” Dustin says in an insane high-pitched voice and Chris shoots him another look. What is he supposed to do? Chris is leaving him in a pit of intoxication and unresolved sexual tension!
Except, Eduardo puts a hand on Mark’s thigh, still scrolling through his phone, and maybe it’s not unresolved. Dustin shudders. Oh God, he is trapped. He flops back on his bed and starts to plan his response if they start fucking in front of him. He will make an outraged noise, like an eighteenth century maiden. Or maybe he will gasp loudly and point at both of them, like they always do on the soap opera his mom watches whenever the main lady discovers another bastard child she conceived while date-raped at the prom. Either way, it’s gonna be really dramatic, and it will totally show Chris... his eyes close.
Ironically enough, he’s woken up by a whisper of, “Wait. Is Dustin asleep?”
He opens his eyes, still feeling high and paranoid, and is someone breaking in to their room? He heard that can happen, and now they’re all going to get murdered in their sleep and their laptops stolen and code! His code! All of the code!
He moves minutely, shifts a little to his left, and looks down, over the floor, and oh thank God, they’re not being burglarized. Mark is just laying on top of Edu- wait, Mark is laying on top of Eduardo. He considers the scandalized-maiden gasp, but Eduardo puts a hand in Mark’s hair and grins against his lips, and he can’t cock-block his best friends. That’s totally against the bro code. He’s pretty sure gay hookups in the same room as one’s roommate is also against the bro code, but still - cock-blocking is just wrong.
“Yeah, yeah, he’s asleep,” Mark says, his normally flat voice all weird and crack-y, and he sort of shimmies against Eduardo and leans down and kisses him. Dustin closes his eyes, but he can still hear them.
“Shit, Mark-” Eduardo gasps after a minute. Dustin opens his eyes, and they’re still kissing, in that awesome way Dustin does when he’s high, all focused and soft and slow and lazy. But Mark’s hand goes between them, and Eduardo sucks in a breath, and okay, Dustin refuses to actually be in the same room with the result of his strict adherence to the bro code.
He clears his throat and rolls halfway over, and he hears them freeze.
“Did he-”
“Shh!” That’s Mark, and he sounds panicky.
“Hey. Hey, it’s okay. Let’s go to my room.”
“I’m so fucking high.”
Eduardo laughs breathlessly. “Me too, I just wanna- I wanna give you head-”
“Shh, Wardo, Jesus!”
Dustin’s mouth drops open. He did not just say that.
Eduardo’s still giggling, muffled, and Mark says, “Fine, fine, let’s- Wardo-”
Dustin hears them stumble out of the room, and when the door clicks shut behind them, he sits bolt upright in bed.
---
“Chris? Chris!”
Chris is laughing into the phone, and there’s music playing. “Yeah?”
“Is that- Lady Gaga? Never mind, never mind, okay, Chris. You need to be here right now.”
“Why?”
“It’s- it’s Wardo! And Mark! Chris, come back to the room. Room is crisis central right now. It’s the Batcave right now. Room is the place to be.”
“Oh my God, you’re so stoned-” he breaks off and says to someone- yeah, sorry, my suitemate, he’s high off his ass and I think he’s having a breakdown-
“Don’t! Don’t say that to your gay party! Come back!”
“Are they okay?”
“No! Well, yes. But we need to talk!” He doesn’t want to be homophobic. It’s okay to be gay! Chris has pounded that into his head enough times.
“Jesus. Okay. I’m coming home. Relax.”
“And then he said he’d give Mark head, shit, that rhymes, and they left!”
Chris nods, not nearly as shocked as he should be. “Wow. Okay.”
“Chris! Why are you not, like, freaking out?”
“Come on, Dustin. We both guessed it would happen at some point.”
“Wait. No we did not. We never guessed this at all. I’m sorry I don’t have like, gaydar, or whatever, and I know there were the shirts, and the sharing, and the meaningful looks, but how does it even work out that they smoke and then get blowjobs? Like, that’s what should happen to me. I smoke weed and I am left alone in my room, with no blow jobs. Never any for me. I want one for my very own!”
Chris laughs, and then stops, and then waves his hand in front of his face. “Dustin! Jesus!”
Dustin’s been staring at Chris’ mouth, eyes a little glazed. He starts when Chris says his name, and looks at him, eyes wide and terrified.
“Oh my God, I’m gay!”
“You’re not gay, idiot,” Chris says, standing up and picking up empty cups. “You’re just horny. “
“I don’t know,” Dustin says despondently, lying down again and closes his eyes. “I don’t know about this.”
“Well, don’t think about it then. Just relax.” Chris tosses the cups in the trash, and suddenly he’s sitting next to Dustin, and Dustin’s eyes pop open when Chris puts a hand on his crotch.
“How long have you been hard?” he asks, casually, like they’re talking about the weather, and Dustin props himself up on his elbows, eyes wide.
“What? What- Chris-”
“How long. Have you. Been hard.” Chris bites off each word, and cups Dustin and oh fuck, maybe he’s been hard since Eduardo and Mark left, maybe since he saw them kissing. It’s not fair! He gets insanely turned-on when he smokes, and they were kissing, and it was all wet, and then he started thinking about blow jobs. A saint would’ve gotten a boner.
“I- I don’t know-” he says, swallowing frantically.
Then Chris unzips his pants, and licks his lips, and Dustin is no saint.
“Chris-” he says weakly, even as he thrusts his hips up.
“Relax,” Chris says again, patting Dustin’s thigh, and he leans in and licks a stripe up his dick.
“Jesus CHRIST,” Dustin says in a high voice, and his hands clench into fists.
“Just Chris is fine,” Chris says, rolling his eyes, and he blows cool air over his wet cock and Dustin shudders, gasps.
“God, has anyone ever even-”
“Chris, please-”
Chris grins and takes him in. Dustin watches him, and his elbows keep falling and his eyes going shut but he can’t not watch, and he forces them open, and Chris looks up at him.
“Hey,” he says, breaking off, and puts Dustin’s hand in his hair. “Here. It’s okay.”
Dustin nods, and sobs when Chris swallows him. He didn’t even know people could- could do that, and he has gotten a blow job before, thank you very much, but it was in high school and the girl used way too much teeth, and pulled off before he could come.
Chris is way better. Is this what they learn in the GSA?, he thinks maniacally and Chris laughs around Dustin’s dick and Dustin comes. Chris swallows. Swallows, and Dustin is still recovering from that fact, when Chris looks up and says, “This is not what we learn in GSA, Dustin, you perv.”
So apparently he’d said that out loud. That’s almost as embarrassing as the fact that he just came in about .4 seconds. Luckily, Chris just grins at him, and pulls his pants back up with one hand.
“Feel better?” he says, and Dustin covers his face with one hand and nods about six too many times. Chris laughs.
“Don’t worry about it, alright? Now we’re all gay.” Dustin’s eyes pop open in panic and Chris nearly doubles over laughing at him.
“I’m kidding, dumbass. Go to sleep.”
Dustin dimly feels Chris throw a blanket over him, and he murmurs right before passing out, "I didn't even get to see Mark code high."
"But you got a blow job out of it, right?" Chris tucks the blanket under Dustin's chin, and Dustin nods sleepily.
"Yeah. You're right. It's okay to be gay." And he drifts off to the sound of Chris laughing.
THEEEE END
AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER IN SEXYTIMES OT4 GOODNESS