Carson lets out an irritated growl under his breath, stopping in the middle of the path. He’s just trying to get to his favorite writing spot in the quad. There’s no way he’s putting up with some dumbass freshman asking for relationship advice again, not right after the most obnoxious debate team practice of his life. He might run the advice column, but he sure as hell doesn’t give romantic advice in the flesh.
The person finally catches up to him, a girl with bright red hair stuffed under a beanie. Alice.
Damn, Carson thinks, I can’t snap at her.
Her breath is coming out in pants, as if it she just jogged across campus. Which, knowing her, is very possible.
"Hey Alice," he greets the girl as nice as possible.
She smiles at him knowingly. "We found you another advice column editor! I'm having him meet us at our normal one-on-one meeting tomorrow at three!, You need to be there."
He rolls his eyes at her fondly. As if he'd miss a meeting for the newspaper. "And I told you we didn't need another column editor. I was doing just fine, thanks."
Alice smiles fondly, "When you're editor in chief, you can dictate how many people are on what positions. But for now, I say you need some help."
"Fine, whatever you say Alice," he replies in his sweetest voice.
She smirks, reaching up to pat him on the cheek, "That's why you're my favorite Carson." The girl begins to jog away, presumably to find someone else to harass, but she turns back around to look at him, "Three pm on the dot Phillips!" Her voice echoes across the courtyard.
He makes a shooing gesture with his hand. Alice waves and heads off.
Great, just what he needed.
“Fuck”, Carson mutters under his breath, scratching out another line on the notebook resting on his leg. He leans against the tree behind him, closing his eyes. The breeze across the quad feels nice, but he’s still frustrated. Everything he’s written today seems off, one of those days where the story in his brain can’t be translated to paper. Carson sighs, making the decision to go back to the dorm for the day and start on his philosophy homework.
Before he can even open his eyes, there’s a thump above his head against the tree trunk, and something falling into his lap.
“What the hell-,” he cracks open his eyes to see a large, brightly colored dodgeball sitting in his lap.
“Fuck! I’m so, so sorry!” a guy yells from across the quad as he runs towards Carson. The guy finally makes it to stand in front of him, leaning over to rest his hands on his knees, panting. His black hair is dripping with sweat from whatever activity he’s been playing, and his stereotypical Northwestern tank top and shorts are clinging in all the right places. Carson gapes for a minute, letting his eyes roam the boy’s body.
“Sorry!” the boy mutters again, bringing Carson’s eyes back to the boy’s face. He finally looks up at Carson and smiles. “Hi! So, apologizes for not doing my damn job and keeping the quaffle from getting in the goal . And on top of that, letting it get all the way over here. Also, I’ll let them know we should probably put our goals not in line with random students.”
“Right, well next time-, wait did you say quaffle? Like, Harry Potter?”
“Uh, yeah! I’m on the Quidditch team!” His smile gets even wider, which Carson didn’t think was possible. He gestures his head back towards the field, where the rest of his team is meandering, brooms in hand. “Oh, I’m Aaron by the way. Aaron Christopherson.” The man, Aaron, offers his hand out for Carson to shake.
“Quidditch team-? Of course we’ve got a fucking quidditch team,” he grumps. Carson takes his outstretched hand wearily. “I’m Carson. Can you tell me why exactly, a quaffle just came flying at me, barely missing my head Aren’t there rules for campus sporting teams not injuring students?”
Aaron blushes and bites his bottom lip. “Well, uh. I’m the keeper, or goalie, and I ended up missing, and the guy got a point. Our goal happened to line up with this tree, and yeah.”
“Friendly advice, you might want to practice some more. I suppose it could be worse. At least its not a bludger. Those things would fucking hurt.”
Aaron laughs, “Trust me, they hurt like a bitch,” He pauses. “You know Harry Potter?”
Carson narrows his eyes. “I’m insulted by the mere assumption that I wouldn’t know Harry Potter.”
“Christopherson! Stop flirting and get your ass back over here! We do need to practice at some point!” a man across the quad yells.
Aaron’s face flushes, “Right, well. I have to get back to practice. Would you, uhm, maybe want to go get coffee tomorrow or something?”
Carson’s eyes widen, looking at him in surprise. “Like a date or-?” He gets a nod in response. Carson’s still in a state of shock. He tries to run through every scenario of why he shouldn’t go get coffee with Aaron, or every argument he’s come up with of why dating is a bad idea. But he looks at the man again, and he’s attractive to Carson. Which is something that hasn’t really happened. Admiration, sure. But physical attraction? And he knows Harry Potter, which is enough to indicate some kind of intelligence level. Really, what’s the worst that’s going to happen?
When Carson glances back up at his face, Aaron looks like he’s about to run or bury himself in the ground. But before he can say anything, one word comes out of Carson’s mouth.
Aaron’s face lights up. “Really?”
Carson nods, smiling nervously. He doesn’t know the protocol for this sort of thing.
“Okay! The coffee shop around from the Journalism building at 3:30? I have a meeting at three, but I should be able to make it in time.”
“That sounds great.” Carson goes to stand up, but he remembers the dodgeball still in his lap. “Oh, uhm, here’s your quaffle back.” He hands the ball back to Aaron, who still looks stunned by Carson’s acceptance. “Tomorrow, then?”
Aaron nods. “Yeah, tomorrow.”
Aaron watches Carson leave the quad, still trying to process that he just got a date with him. Tomorrow, right after his meeting for the newspaper..
He feels a hand smack down on his shoulder, startling him, and he turns to see the Quidditch captain beside him, arm out for the quaffle. “You okay man?” he asks.
“Yeah, I think so.”
Carson’s jitters about his date occupy him for most of the day. He can’t pay any attention to his professors, or his partners for his history project. He’s too occupied with the way Aaron’s tank top clung to his torso, and the way his hair flopped in front of his eyes. The way it would feel if he were to run his hands through said hair, and pull on it.
Carson has to admit he’s probably getting ahead of himself.
At two forty-five, as he’s walking into the Journalism building, his mind finally reminding him that he’s meeting his new co-columnist today. Fan-fucking-tastic. Carson just prays he can scrape by the meeting with minor destruction to his good mood, so he doesn’t have to meet Aaron grumpy and pissed off.
When he cracks open the door at 2:55, he realizes that he might be meeting Aaron grumpy and pissed off anyways.
Aaron didn’t apply to The Daily Northwestern with the interest of anything but having fun. He enjoyed writing for the column at UCLA, and the editor in chief there thought he had a lot of potential, and could possibly take over one day.
Apparently he had passed his high recommendations to Alice, the editor in chief of The Daily Northwestern. As soon as he mentioned his name and old school to her, she looked like Christmas had come early, telling him it would be great for their current member running for the position next year to have some competition.
Now, as he sits with Alice in the newspaper’s room, he begins to regret his decision to agree to apply for the position.
“Can you tell me anything about my co-columnist?” he asks.
Alice hums, shuffling some papers into another pile on her desk. “Well, he’s not happy he’s getting a co-columnist.”
Aaron raises his eyebrows at her, as if to ask ‘then why did you give him one?’
She sighs. “Because if there’s one thing he can’t do well, it’s work as a team. And if he intends to lead one, which he does because he’s also you competition for editor in chief once I graduate, he needs to know how to be in one.” Alice starts digging through the drawers in the desk, looking for something. “And, he doesn’t do relationships. So, having someone with knowledge of romance and an optimistic view on relationships would be a nice change to the column,”
Aaron’s jaw drops a little. “You have someone, who doesn’t do relationships, running an advice column?”
She giggles at him, grinning like a loon. “You’d be surprised at how little college students want to know about actual relationships, and not just how to get laid. Just because he hasn’t been in a relationship, his choice mind you, he sure as hell does know how to answer those kind of questions..”
And oh, the realization crosses Aaron’s mind in a flash. His co-columnist doesn’t do relationships because of a lack of offer, but because he’d rather just sleep around. Well, to each his own, Aaron muses.
Alice smiles at him knowingly when the door cracks open. “And here he is now!”
“Christ Alice, it’s not th-” and the man walking in the room stops dead when his eyes land on Aaron.
“Carson?” Aaron croaks out. Because that’s not just any man, it’s the man he’s scheduled to have a date with in a half an hour. This man who, according to Alice, doesn’t do relationships. He just sleeps around, and Aaron processes that was exactly what that man intended to do with him.
Fuck, that’s just perfect. The one person Carson actually thought he might be attracted to is his co-columnist. He breathes deeply. Its fine, Carson tries to reason with himself. Just because he’s your co-columnist doesn’t mean you can’t go out with him. Actually, it’s better. Because at least he isn’t a moron.
“Oh! You two know each other?” Alice smiles, looking between the two of them. “Great! Well, sit Carson.”
He begrudgingly sits in the chair beside Aaron, in front of her desk.
“Alrighty! So, you know you both co-columnist for the relationship column?” They nod. “Well, Carson, meet your new competitor for editor in chief as well.”
Carson’s body immediately stiffens as he stares hard at Alice.
“What?” he growls. “I don’t have competition, Alice, you told me just yesterday morning that when I’m editor in chief I can do what I want.”
Alice sighs, as if she was expecting it. Aaron turns his head towards Carson, narrowing his eyes at him, finding the menace in the other man’s voice unnecessary.
“Listen, Carson. I can’t just give you the position. They’re not going to respect you, hell, most of them don’t respect you anyways. They fear you. Aaron came in with a glowing recommendation from his former editor in chief and I think the competition will be good for both of you.”
Carson clenched his hand on the armrest of his seat. “His former editor in chief? From where? The local community college?”
“UCLA, actually.” Aaron snaps back.
Carson’s eyes burn into him. “Yeah? Well that doesn’t mean shit here. I’ve worked tirelessly for a year, and not to mention all four years of high school, to become editor in chief of this damn newspaper. And nothing, not even you, will stop me.”
“Carson.” Her voice was serious, a tone reserved only for days the staff got too rowdy. “I know you’re mad. And fine, be mad at me all you want. It’s not going to help you get the position any faster.”
She hands a stack of paper from her desk to Aaron, and a smaller stack to Carson. “Aaron, most of those are just your standard information forms I need you to turn back into me. However, I’ve given both of you the upcoming schedule for the year, event we’ll be at and such. Aaron, you can leave. Our regular meeting is tomorrow at five.”
Aaron nods, gathering his stuff up and leaving the room.
When the door falls shut, Alice’s eyes land on Carson.
“What is your damn problem? I mean, I get that you don’t want anyone to take your spot next year. But c’mon Carson, that was ridiculous, even for you. Aaron’s not an incompetent idiot, you might actually like the guy!”
The tightness in his body relaxes, and he releases his grip on the chair. “I know, Alice. I know all of that.”
She looks at him for a moment, before her mouth turns up into a smirk. “You think he’s hot. You like him, Carson.”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” he mutters, grabbing his bag and standing up. He chances a glance back at her. “You do realize you’re an awful friend, right?”
She hums in agreement, and makes a shooing motion at him. Carson rolls his eyes fondly before exiting the room.
Aaron barely gets five steps away from the room before he has to stop. He leans up against the wall of the hallway and runs a hand through his hair.
His mind is whizzing back and forth. Because, Carson, who doesn’t do relationships, agreed to go on a date with him. And the main question running through Aaron’s head is why.
The only logical explanation, is that Carson was going to go out with him, sleep with him, and then that was it, right?
So where does that leave Aaron? Does he continue to try for a relationship? Does he just sleep with Carson? Or does he give up completely?
The door from newspaper room suddenly swings open, and Aaron watches as Carson walks out. He turns to walk out of the hallway, when his eyes fall on Aaron.
“Hey,” Aaron starts, but Carson raises his chin and determinedly starts to walk by him. “Oh no, you’re not running from me Phillips.” He reaches out and grabs the other man by the wrist, halting him in his tracks. Carson turns on him with a glare.
“Well first off, we had a coffee date if you remember-”
Carson sharply interrupts him. “Had. We had a coffee date, which is now obviously cancelled.” At that point, Aaron realizes his hand is still covering Carson’s wrist, and he glances down at it. Carson must realize it too, because he immediatley snatches his arm back.
Aaron rolls his eyes, “Are you kidding me? Do you really feel that threatened by me taking the spot that you won’t go out with me?”
“Listen here, Christopherson. I get what I want, and I don’t let a damn thing stand in my way. I also don’t do anything half-assed,” Carson jabs a finger at Aaron’s chest. Aaron lets his eyes roam, taking in the way his hair is flopping over from stress, and the way his eyes are dark. “ And you? You’re in the way of me getting that spot. So no, I will not let anything keep me from giving my all for that spot, including anything involving you.”
Aaron cocks his head at him. “And what, a coffee date might make you want to not try as hard against me?” He grips Carson’s wrist, and pulls it away from his chest. Using his other hand, he a finger gently against the middle of Carson’s chest.
Carson flushes pink. If he hadn’t thought Aaron attractive before, he did now. Aaron’s gold eyes glimmer with the prospect of a challenge. The finger on his chest begins to drag down lightly.
“Because I don’t believe that for a second,” Aaron says before putting his whole hand on his stomach. He presses, pushing Carson backwards, whose eyes widen in surprise.
He stands for a moment, staring at Aaron. His gaze wanders and searches, before he wordlessly walks away.
In that moment, Aaron makes a realization.
Carson’s pride and determination might be telling him he doesn’t want anything to do with Aaron, but his body and eyes portray an entirely different story. The attraction from before hasn’t gone away.
And maybe he shouldn’t quite give up hope yet.
The trip from the Journalism building to his dorm seems like it takes forever that night for Carson.
All can he think of is the way Aaron’s finger felt at it trailed down his chest, and the feeling of his palm against his stomach. The heat that flared up anytime he got within a close range of the other man.
The fact that he is Carson’s competitor, his mind helpfully supplies as he shuts the door to his dorm.
He’s thankful on nights like tonight, more than ever, that he doesn’t have a roommate sticking his nose into his business. No one to ask him why he’s grumpy as hell, or to complain when he throws his bag onto the floor out of anger.
Carson collapses on top of his bed, trying to bury himself in his pillows.
He already doesn’t want to go to newspaper tomorrow.
Aaron spends his entire morning class the next day thinking about Carson.
Or more specifically, what to do next. He knows Carson hates, or well, has convinced himself he hates Aaron. But he doesn’t do relationships.
He drops his head onto his desk, letting out a quiet groan. When he looks back up, he can see the person in front of him is flicking through a newspaper. More specifically, The Daily Northwestern. Aaron almost lets out another groan, but his eyes catch the Advice Column. His eyes widen in realization.
What if he just… asked Carson what to do?
As soon as the professor dismisses them from class, Aaron rockets towards the computer lab. His dorm is too far, and he doesn’t have much time in between class.
Carson spends the entire day with a scowl on his face.
He can’t even vent it out in his favorite writing spot. As soon as he reaches the quad, he can see the Quidditch team running around. His eyes unfortunately lock right onto Aaron, standing in front of the goal posts closest to him. All Carson can focus on is the way his black tank top clings, and his shorts (way too small, in Carson’s opinion) hug his ass in the right way.
He swallows heavily. and walks away before anyone notices him.
By the time he reaches the newspaper room at five, Carson’s promises himself that he can’t let Aaron get to him. He was stupid to accept the date in the first place, he muses, because he has more important things to do anyways.
Like successfully run an advice column and prove to Alice that he should editor in chief next year.
But when he opens the door to the room, Carson can already tell that promise is going to be hard to keep.
Because Aaron Christopherson, is sitting on top of his desk. In his Quidditch practice outfit. His head whips around to face Carson, and he grins like the cat that got the cream.
“Hey Phillips,” he chirps.
Carson glares at him as sits in his chair in front of Aaron. “Why the hell are you on top of my desk?”
“Alice said we have to work together today, and quote, she can’t be bothered to find me a chair.”
“Lucky me,” he mutters under his breath.
Carson starts up the computer at his desk, quickly logging into the advice column’s email. He saves all the new questions into a document, and then tilts the screen so Aaron can look at it as well.
“Alright, so we weed out the really dumb as fuck ones, and then start answering all the ones we can. Got it?” Aaron nods in understanding.
They switch back and forth, for the most part. Carson answering one, and Aaron taking the next. It minimizes the time they have to communicate, which Carson is more than thankful for.
The only major argument comes out over one about what to do when you suspect your partner’s cheating on you. It’s Carson’s question, and he’s pretty insistent on blackmailing the scum, but Aaron thinks straight up confrontation is the best route. Eventually Alice tells them both to shut the fuck up and write both.
It’s about fifteen minutes left of the meeting, when Aaron slides the keyboard back over to him.
“Here, can you finish these? Alice said she needed to talk to me for the last bit of the meeting.”
Carson grumbles in compliance, watching Aaron hop off his desk and take his things over to Alice. He lets himself linger for a few seconds, before turning back to his computer.
The first question on his screen makes him snort in amusement.
I’m at a loss of what to do. I like someone, quite a bit. And I think they like me too, at least, I know they’re attracted to me. But this person doesn’t do relationships, they only do sex. What should I do? What would make you date someone, Editor?
Carson shakes his head at his screen, before biting his lip in concentration. What would make him date someone? A couple of days ago, he would of said nothing.
But his almost-coffee-date says that’s not quite so true anymore. And honestly, the person that Moaning Myrtle (Carson has to give the person credit for the name, at least) seems to be dealing with isn’t like him.
Carson doesn’t do sex either.
“Dear Moaning Myrtle,
Honestly, if you’re dealing with someone who only wants sex? Have sex with them.
Intimacy is still intimacy, and the more you have sex with someone, the more you connect with them. Sometimes a connection is all it takes to change someone’s mind”
Carson groans, the answer seems too sappy. His brain is still focusing on Aaron, and his ability to change Carson’s mind.
“And besides, worst case scenario? You get to have sex with them. Best case? They end up agreeing to date you.
Seems like a win/win all around to me.
He sighs, saving that answer with the others. It doesn’t take him long to finish off the rest of the questions, but by the time he’s dones, Aaron has left.
Carson can’t tell if he’s disappointed or relieved.
Aaron’s nerves are on edge until the next day, when the advice column is featured in the paper.
He runs out of his dorm as possibly as he can force his body to cooperate to pick one up. And decidedly takes it to the coffee shop across the street to read.
Once he’s settled with his mocha, he flips through the paper casually. It’s nice to recognize some of the names under the articles, or see Alice’s name on the front.
Eventually, he makes it to the advice column. He smiles at his name beside Carson’s, and the short paragraph introducing him, since it was his first week. It takes a few moments of scanning through the questions to find his.
He has to set the paper down after he reads it.
...could he just have sex with Carson? Sure, he’s had a one night stand or two at UCLA, but he didn’t know those people.
And he likes Carson, even with his uncalled for hatred
“What other choice do you have, Aaron,” he murmurs to himself.
Plan seduce Carson starts now.
Carson hums himself as he finishes answering another question. The problem with the paper being released every weekday, is that weekend question usually take longer.
So, here he is on Sunday night, answer advice column questions on his laptop.
Most of them have been pretty boring, how to meet new people, or first date ideas. He’s answered them so many times he could type the answers out in his sleep. As he finishes typing up the answer for breaking up with a girl because her friend is hotter (you’re a fuckin’ asshole, is what Carson wants to write), he spots one that makes him smile.
Hello again, it’s me. I plan on taking your advice, to aim for sex first with my, romantic interest (crush sounds too middle school, don’t you agree?).
But, how does one seduce someone who only wants sex outside of certain situations? I mean, we’re at school, not a club or bar. What would make you, Editor, want someone on campus so much that you would drag them home?
“Me?” Carson mutters to himself. He leans back in his desk chair, trying to think.
To be honest, he had never wanted to have sex with anyone he’d seen in person, until Aaron.
And what made him want Aaron? He was attractive, sure, but Carson’s sure he had to of seen Aaron before they met. He was endearing to a fault, and didn’t seem insulted at Carson’s jibes. Plus, he seemed intelligent.
But none of that is what this person’s looking for. They’re looking for sex, not a date.
He tries to think again, what makes him want Aaron physically? Or, what made him temporarily blind in his dislike of the man.
His post-practice outfit, is the first thing that flashes across his brain. The tight tank top and shorts way too small made him pause and lose focus.
“Dear Moaning Myrtle,
It’s nice to hear from you again. Glad you’re taking my advice!
As for what would make me physically attracted to someone on campus? I’ve always thought showing your muscles right after, or even during physical activity is pretty hot. You can’t beat the way someone’s muscles look in a tank top after they’ve just gotten done with practice.
That’s just me though.
As Aaron soon finds out, seducing Carson might be harder than he originally planned.
He actually has to see Carson in order to seduce him. Other than that one time he was at the quad during quidditch practice, Aaron’s only guaranteed to see him at newspaper. He doesn’t know anything else about Carson’s schedule.
So, plan becomes put on hold until their first newspaper group meeting of the week, which happens to fall on the same days as quidditch practice.
About halfway through practice, the captain nudges him in the side. “Hey, that the guy you were flirting with last week?”
“Huh?” Aaron turns around to see Carson, propped up against the same tree he was at last week. He happens to glance up, and meets Aaron’s eyes.
Aaron smirks, and throws him a wink.
He isn’t going to let Aaron keep him from his daily routine, including going to his writing spot. At least that’s what Carson told himself this morning.
Now? He’s about ready to run back to his dorm and hide until the newspaper meeting.
Aaron’s moved back into position, which is standing almost directly in front of him, several yards away. Apparently they’ve decided that student’s safety isn’t important after all, and kept the same layout.
He grumbles to himself, watching as Aaron stretches in place while the ball is on the other side of the field. His arms rise up above his head, and he arches his back, before bring his arms back down to swing back and forth. His triceps flex, and Carson has to keep himself from drooling.
Aaron turns his to glance back at Carson and smirks knowingly.
Fuck him, Carson thinks, that asshole knows exactly what he’s doing.
He toys with leaving, but that would mean Aaron winning this little game he seems to be playing. And if there’s one thing Carson can’t have, it’s Aaron winning.
He groans to himself as Aaron stretches down to touch his toes, wiggling his ass.
Why? What did he do to cause fate to grant him his sexuality now? Did he accidentally murder someone this summer? Run over a pidgeon?
Relief comes in the form of the opposing team finally getting their shit together, and Aaron has to actually start focusing on the game. He manages to block the quaffle and throw it back to his teammates, who take it back up to the other goal.
Aaron turns towards him. “Told you I would save you, didn’t I?” He almost has to shout for his voice to be heard by Carson.
“No, you told me you get them to move the damn goal post. Which, you obviously didn’t do.”
“And deprive you of the view? It seemed to me like didn’t mind.” Aaron smiles, a wide grin as he turns back to face the field.
Maybe Carson wishes he would of missed stopping the quaffle, if only so he could chuck it at Aaron’s head.
It doesn’t seem to get any better in newspaper, either.
Alice still can’t be bothered to get a chair (on purpose, Carson assumes), so Aaron is sitting on the desk again.
His legs are hanging off the edge, swinging back and forth beside Carson. He almost threatens to tie them together, but every time he looks over to see his calves flex on the swing, he has to look away.
Aaron hums as he tilts the monitor to read the next question.
A beat or two later, he doubles over laughing. His body is vibrating from how hard he’s laughing, and he moves a hand to rub across his face, trying to cover his mouth. Carson doesn’t think the man has ever looked as beautiful as he does then.
Most of the other staff members are staring at him with curiosity. He turns the monitor screen back to Carson, so he can see the next question.
My friend has to use really small condoms. So, on behalf of him, I was wondering if you knew where to buy any around here? It’s for my friend.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Carson cackles. They must of missed this one in their initial check of the questions. He has to cover his mouth to keep himself from laughing, at the question and Aaron’s own amusement.
Aaron breathes out, “I-I don’t even know, how to respond to that.” He finally starts to calm down, and shakes his head, “God, I feel like he’s insulting us. Why would he assume we know where to get them?”
Carson blushes at that, his mind storing the information that Aaron doesn’t need small condoms. It isn’t helpful in the least. “I-, well fuck. We are being insulted.”
“Wait, I know-,” The monitor gets tilted back towards Aaron, as he starts to type in an answer. Carson leans over to watch, dangerously close to brushing his bare legs.
First off, we’re insulted that you would ever think we’d need to know that information.
Now, if you’re friend needs a different kind of condom, we got you covered.
Carson’s jaw drops a little. “Listen, Christopherson, I’m all for being mean and sarcastic but I don’t have any desire to get harrassed about the size of my dick let alone yours-”
“What? Not even a little bit curious Phillips?” The shit eating grin on Aaron’s face keeps Carson from freezing up, it’s a challenge.
He lifts his head up. “Hardly. Can’t be that impressive if you feel the need to brag about it on the column.”
They both realize the room is dead silent, and everyone’s focus is on them. Their smug grins fall.
Alice has an exasperated look on her face. “Alright, take your damn dirty talk out of my newspaper room.” She makes a shooing motion at them, dismissing them from the room.
Carson’s clenches his jaw, and quickly packs up his things. He’s out the door before Aaron even starts walking towards it.
When Aaron shuts the door to the newspaper room behind him, he’s immediately got a hand around his wrist, yanking him down the hallway.
Carson stops before the elevators. He’s almost fuming, and Aaron is positive if looks could kill, he would be dead. “I thought we had a silent, mutual agreement that whatever this is,” he gestures between the two of them, “was not to be brought into that room.”
“This?” Aaron exclaims, copying Carson’s gesture. Carson runs a hand through his hair, causing it to be disarrayed. His lips look redder than usual from the way he’s been chewing on his bottom lip since Alice kicked them out of the room. Aaron has to swallow down the moan that threatens to come out.
He gets a growl in response. “Yes, this! Whatever game you’re playing with me. It doesn’t belong in that room, I want to actually be editor, thank you.”
“A game?” Aaron grins. He walks towards Carson, until his back hits the wall in between the elevators. “This isn’t a game, Phillips.” He’s crowded up against him, chests barely brushing.
He waits, watching Carson’s eyes flick between his own eyes and his lips. His breathing is heavy and heated, and when his eyes look back up to Aaron’s, almost challenging him, he makes his move.
Aaron crushes their lips together, using one hand to cup Carson’s jaw, and the other sliding to grip his waist. He doesn’t get a response at first, but eventually Carson lets out a soft moan. Suddenly there’s a hand against the middle of his back, urging him closer, and one tangled in the hair at the base of his neck. He groans, complying and pressing close. Gently, he nibbles on Carson’s lip, before soothing it over with his tongue. He can feel Carson’s chest heaving against him as he pulls back to breathe, before moving in to kiss him again.
This time when their lips slot together, Aaron traces Carson’s lip with his tongue, asking for permission. He gets it when Carson’s mouth startles open with a moan. He uses his hand to angle them just right, before slipping his tongue inside. He gives himself permission to explore, pressing closer with his body. He can feel the blood rushing from his brain moving southwards. The hand on his back slips to around his waist and tugs, causing them to be touching everywhere but their groins.
Carson whimpers against him before pulling his mouth back, The man in front of Aaron looks wrecked, with swollen lips and pupils blown wide. Although he’s sure he doesn’t look any better.
“Fuck,” Carson mutters. He moves the hand on Aaron’s neck to rest on his chest. “This?” He breathes out, “This stays out of that room.”
Aaron nods, “Got it, so can I-” Carson’s sighs before kissing him again. It’s softer, but Aaron feels it from his head all the way to his toes. It feels like someone’s lit him on fire from the inside out, and he can’t get enough. He moans softly, letting Carson take the lead. Teeth bite down gently on his lip, and he whimpers. Too soon, their lips are separating, and Carson is creating space in between them.
They’re both still for a moment, before Carson speaks. “We- I have to go. Newspaper should be letting out now anyways.” He moves away from the wall to press the elevator button.
“Right,” Aaron breathes out as the elevator dings, “We, uh, still have one on one work day tomorrow, right?”
Carson slips inside the elevator, giving him a nod before the door slides shut.
Carson slams the door shut, and presses back against it. He slides down the door until he’s sitting on the floor, his bag sitting in his lap. Breathing deeply, he tries to calm down the thrumming circulating through his body. It’s like he has an endless supply of energy that’s all just trying to propel him to Aaron.
Which is the problem.
Making out was… surprisingly nice. Especially since he didn’t know what to expect from it. The idea of making out, and sex, had always seemed like an unnecessary human function. He didn’t need it to survive, so why bother?
He groans, because making out with Aaron definitely didn’t seem unnecessary at them time. And the mere thought of having sex with him makes his body flush with desire.
However, Carson would prefer if next time (if there even will be a next time) it didn’t happen where anyone could see them.
When Aaron steps outside the next day, he can feel the stupid grin on his face.
Sure, it wasn’t sex, but hey making out was close right?
Plus, today, he has a plan. He usually takes an early morning jog around campus on the days when he doesn’t have quidditch practice, to make sure he gets some kind of physical activity. But he’s rerouted his jog to just happen to go across the quad, and it happens to coincide with the exact time Carson’s usually situated there.
And alright, Aaron can admit his outfit might be on the side of just too much, but whatever. He looks hot, and he’s pretty sure Carson will appreciate it anyways.
He makes his way across campus, earbuds in and trying to tune out everyone.
Until he reaches the quad.
There’s a bench almost right beside Carson’s tree, facing the sidewalk. Aaron slows down to halt right in front of it, sliding his headphones out, and shoving them in his pocket. He knows Carson doesn’t listen to anything when he’s writing, so it shouldn’t take much to get his attention.
The man in question is sitting against his tree like usual, eyes focusing on the notebook in his hand. There are glasses perched on his nose that Aaron hasn’t seen before, but definitely takes interest in. He’s biting lip in concentration, and Aaron wishes he had the guts to go over there and bite it himself.
Maybe someday, he thinks.
For now, he needs to get his attention. “Hey Phillips!” he calls out. He figured he might as well go as direct as possible.
Carson startles, obviously not expecting him today. His hands flex against his pen and notebook, before he starts to turn his head. “I swear Christopherson, can I not have one damn day-” he stops when his eyes land on Aaron.
Aaron watches as his gaze sweeps up and down his body. Carson swallows thickly, while his eyes linger on Aaron’s chest, which is only covered by a mesh, hot pink tank top. There’s no way Carson can’t see his almost right through the top, which hugs his body in all the right places.
Carson seems to collect himself, eyes flicking back up to Aaron’s face. He’s blushing, from the tips of his ears down his neck, and Aaron can’t help but wonder just how far the blush spreads.
There’s a moment where they’re both just watching each other, before Aaron moves to actually do what he stopped to do, strech.
“One day, Christopherson. That’s all I want is one day of peace at my writing spot,” Carson groans out at him.
Aaron smirks as he stretches his hands above his head, “Sorry, can’t do that. I needed to reroute my morning jog on the days I don’t have practice, and that reroute just happened to come by you.” He watches Carson’s eyes quickly lock on the slither of skin showing where his shirt has risen.
“Just happened to, sure. Like you don’t use every opportunity you have to show off in front of me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Phillips,” He gives one last stretch of his arms, and gives Carson a wide grin, before starting to run again.
He’s pretty sure he can feel Carson’s eyes on his ass until he’s out of sight.
When Carson sits down at his desk for his one-on-one meeting with Aaron, he tries to mentally prepare himself.
As if making out against the wall yesterday wasn’t bad enough, Aaron’s attempt to rile him up this morning in that tank top was frustrating. He didn’t know whether he wanted to punch him in his stupid, good-looking face, or smash their mouths together.
And Aaron, is intelligent. Behind the cocky, asshole personality, Aaron could answer the advice column questions with as much wit and sarcasm as Carson could. Again, Carson has to bemoan the fact that Aaron was his competitor, because sometimes he really regrets not being able to have that coffee date.
Just as his mind starts to wander towards what would've happened if they had went on the coffee date, Aaron comes in through the door. He’s got a hoodie thrown over his tank top, but he still has on his jogging sweatpants that cling to his thigh muscles.
He grabs a chair from the desk next to Carson’s, and slides it up beside him before slumping down in it.
Carson looks at him, actually looks at him, and sees the red rims around his eyes that weren’t there this morning. Not to mention the droop to his shoulders.
Aaron raises an eyebrow at him, “You done yet?” He swivels his chair around to face Aaron head on.
“What’s wrong?” His eyes look widen in surprise, “What? There’s obviously something wrong. I’m not an idiot.”
He gets a head shake in response, “It’s nothing.”
Carson rolls his eyes. “Listen, Christopherson. We have work to do, and if you’re not in your usual cocky mood, that work won’t get done. So you can either tell me what happened, or step outside and call someone to tell.”
“Why would I tell you? You hate me, Phillips. Or did our make-out session the other day change your mind?”
“No, it didn’t change my mind, thank you. But goddamnit Aaron, that doesn’t mean I can’t listen.”
Aaron startles, and it takes a moment for Carson to realize he used his first name. He hasn’t done that since the morning they met. He blushes out of embarrassment that Aaron noticed.
“It’s stupid,” Aaron mumbles. Carson sighs, and tries to convey through his eyes that it doesn’t matter. “My sister’s sick,” is what finally comes out.
“My youngest sister, she has the chicken pox. And when I called to talk to my family today, all she did was cry and ask why I had to move so far away, and that she was hated me for moving. I mean, obviously I know she didn’t mean it but-”
As much as doesn’t like Aaron, his heart pangs in sympathy. He knows what it’s like when a family member you cherish gets sick, and then says they hate you. Sure, Carson’s grandmother forgetting him isn’t the same as Aaron’s sister, but the pain is similar.
Carson doesn’t even know when he got up, let alone what made him pull Aaron up as well. He wraps his arms around him tugging him close. Warmth surges through him, causing him to press closer. It becomes hard to remember why he didn’t want this, why he keeps refusing to get close to Aaron.
“Carson, what-” he interrupts Aaron before he can start asking question by kissing him. It’s the only way he knows how to comfort Aaron. He’s fueled by the warmth and the thoughts he had early about Aaron. His mouth is warm as it presses back against him, and he tangles his hands in the back of Aaron’s hair. There are hands landing on either side of his own waist, pulling him closer. The kissing is soft, and much more sensual than their make out session the other day. He can feel the way each kiss sends a shock wave through his system, and he moans softly. His hips thrust forward of their own accord, running on instinct, seeking the friction of Aaron’s body.
That seems to spur Aaron on, because he’s suddenly pressing against Carson gently until he’s backed up against the desk. The kissing starts to become more heated, teeth nip at the bottom of his lip, and he can feel the slide of Aaron’s tongue against his. There’s pressure against his groin, and he realizes Aaron’s situated them to be completely pressed together. And maybe that’s not where Carson intended to go with his initial kiss, but he’s certainly not going to complain if that’s what Aaron wants.
He breaks their kiss with a broken moan, “A-, Aaron please,” he whimpers when lips start pressing against jaw and trailing down his neck. Carson presses his hips up, and tightens his grip on Aaron’s hair when he can feel how hard Aaron is under his sweatpants. He feels like he’s on fire, every rock of his hips against Aaron’s causing him to let out a broken cry. There are lips on his ear, nipping and letting out hot pants.
“Fuck, Carson,” Aaron cards one hand through the hair on back of Carson’s head, and tugs it closer, slotting their mouths together again. Carson can’t manage it though, and they end up just panting into each others mouths while their hips continue to rock together. The feeling is overwhelmingly heavy, and Carson feels like he can hardly breathe with how much it all is.
Carson can feel when he gets close, his hips stutter upwards, faster and out rhythm. Aaron murmurs, “C’mon Carson,” against his lips and that’s it. He comes against Aaron, gasping and letting the rush of pleasure over take him. He can faintly hear another moan, and feels Aaron shuddering against him.
It takes a moment for Carson’s mind to register anything. And when he does, he doesn’t know what to do. Aaron’s pressed up against him, and they’re both gross with sweat, not to mention he can feel his boxers starting to feel uncomfortable against him.
Aaron seems to take the same moment, and he let’s out a huff. “Guess we’re not getting any of the questions for the column done together. I can, uh take them home with me and finish them before tomorrow.”
And it all rushes back to Carson, the reasons why he wasn’t getting to know Aaron. The reason why he didn’t take that date. He spent the entire time he was supposed to be working for the newspaper getting off with Aaron. And now one of them has to make up for the slack, by themselves.
Carson presses Aaron back away from him, and turns around to gather his stuff off the desk. “It’s fine, I have tons of time to finish them.” It’s a lie, he has a shit ton of homework piling up on his desk at his dorm, and he doesn’t get out of class until late anyways. He can feel Aaron watching him as he hooks his bag around his shoulder and moves to leave the room.
“Carson?” Aaron calls out. He pauses, and turns back to look at him. Aaron looks completely disheveled, his hair is all over the place, and his face is red. “Thank you,” he whispers silently.
He nods, “Yeah,” before leaving the room.
No, tired isn’t the right word. More like fucking exhausted.
The professor decided to keep him after class last night, to talk about his next project. It was great that the professor was excited, but did it have to be right after class? He didn’t reach his dorm until close to ten thirty last night.
Add in the homework that was stacked on his desk? He was up until almost three, by the time he was showered and in bed., All that and he still had to skip doing his problems for history class.
And now, he’s at the newspaper room at five am, a coffee from across the street in hand. Doing these fucking questions for the column, because they sent it to print at six, and started delivering at eight.
Alice is sitting at her desk, presumably going over the articles one last time before it goes to print. She was more than surprised when he was waiting for her outside the door to get in. He lied about why exactly they hadn’t finished the questions, and she let him in.
His only saving grace is another question from Moaning Myrtle.
Thank you, again for the advice. My romantic interest and I had sex, kind of. He tried to comfort me the other day when I wasn’t feeling great, and it ended up leading to sex.
But I’m pretty sure I’m falling for him, romantically. And I think he hates me.
Editor, what would you want someone to do?
Forever in your debt,
He smiles stupidly at the signature. But the question, as usual, makes him stop to think about Aaron.
Specifically, when they were answering questions together, and Aaron laughed so hard the whole room stopped to look at him.
“Dear Moaning Myrtle,
They say the best medicine is laughter, and I think this might work here too.
Make your romantic interest smile, or laugh. Doing something fun or silly together. Or just crack a joke before the next you have sex. (There is going to be a next time, isn’t there?) There’s nothing better in a partner than someone who can make you smile when you feel like drowning.
And I just might have to take you up on that debt someday.
As soon as he’s finally in a good mood, there’s a knock on the door, and in walks Aaron. He’s in his jogging outfit, but there’s a hoodie thrown on top to block off the cold that’s starting to seep into Chicago.
Aaron glances over to see Carson, and he’s sure this has to be the worse he’s looked. There’s bags under his eyes, and he didn’t bother to even touch his hair this morning. His eyes seem to drag across Carson wearily, like he’s judging his exhaustion, before turning to Alice. Something seems off again, more so than yesterday.
“Good! You’re both here!” she chirps, way too happy for this early in the morning. “So, I was informed last night by the head of Student Activities, that they want us to do something during Parent weekend. Specifically, they want you two to run a live version of your advice column.”
Aaron turns in surprise at Carson, like he had forgotten he was there. He seems upset, but not so much sadden, almost angry. But not at Alice, at Carson. .
“Alice, we can’t get along for five seconds, and you want us to play nice for a few hours?” By this point, he’s up and standing beside Aaron, glaring at Alice.
The girl looks calm, too calm. “Yeah, you both want to be editor in chief? Figure it out. Sometimes you have to play nice with people you don’t like. Also, you need to make the banners and stuff for the booth, they’re not providing anything.”
Aaron sighs, seemingly resigned to his fate. “Is that all you needed?” Nod. “Fine. When are you free, Phillips?”
Carson blinks over at him. “I’m done at five.”
“Meet me outside of my dorm then.”
And with that, Aaron’s out the door.
It’s raining by the time Carson gets out of class.
It’s cold too, so the rain feels like tiny ice shards every time it touches his skin. He pulls the hood of his jacket tighter around his head as he makes his way towards Aaron’s dorm.
Luckily for him, Aaron’s in the same dorm Alice is, so the security guard recognizes him and waves him in without a second thought. There were benefits to all of those late work days last year after all.
Aaron’s just getting off the elevator when he approaches them, so he holds the door until Carson’s inside.
They ride in silence all the way up to the fourth floor, and the entire walk down the hallway.
When Aaron brings Carson into his dorm, he isn’t quite sure what to do. It’s a single apartment styled dorm, so there’s plenty of room. But the way Carson looked early today grates at his insides.
At first, he thought it was adorable. The way his hair was messed up and his eyes still sleepy, and Aaron was pretty sure that’s exactly what he’d look like first thing in the morning.
Not that he’ll ever know.
Because right after, he saw the blood shot eyes and bags underneath them, and Aaron realized he wasn’t just tired from being up early. He had been up all night, doing something.
Or someone. Someone that isn’t him. The jealousy that surged through him this morning was unexpected, and he still isn’t quite sure what to do about it.
“Hey? You in there?” Carson’s voice snaps him out of thoughts. He’s standing in the middle of his living room, taking the paints and brushes he brought for the banner out of his bag.
Aaron finally looks at him, he’s soaked to the bone and shivering where he’s standing.
He feels like an ass.
“Here, take that off,” he gestures to Carson’s jacket.
He looks suitably suspicious, but Aaron’s moving through the divider and into his room. He grabs his quidditch hoodie from the end of his bed and offers it to Carson.
“Oh.” He looks like he might protest, but with another look at Aaron, Carson slips his jacket off. He throws Aaron’s hoodie on, trying to snuggle into it, and breathes deeply.
Arousal and possiveness flairs through Aaron, watching Carson wrapped in his hoodie.
That might have been the worse decision Aaron’s ever made, because there’s no way in hell he’s going to be focused on anything but Carson in his hoodie.
He moves the coffee table back, so they can spread the banner out as much as possible on the floor. He watches Carson settle on the floor with his back against the couch, and Aaron makes the decision to sit beside him, only leaving a little space.
They both stare blankly at the banner for a moment.
“How are we supposed to make a banner? We’re writers, not artist.”
Aaron shrugs. “Well, I suppose we should write out what it’s going to say first, and then paint over it?”
Once Carson gives his nod of agreement, he grab a pencil and starts writing out the block letters. He has to lean over Carson’s legs to reach the other side of the banner, and he can feel Carson’s breath hitch. He finishes off the last letter with a swirl, and Carson snorts.
Aaron looks at him with a silent ‘what?’, which earns him a wide grin, one he’s pretty sure he hasn’t seen since they first met. And fuck, it’s nice to see it again. To see that Carson doesn’t hate him half as much as claims to.
They get the paint set up without any damage to Aaron’s dorm, and it doesn’t take long until they’re both painting letters at opposite sides of the banner.
Aaron hums under his breath as he begins to paint, swishing the paintbrush to his own tune. He feels Carson’s eyes on him, and he looks over. Carson’s staring incredulously at him.
“You are fucking ridiculous, Christopherson.” And Aaron has to grin, because he’s known that for years.
“You don’t like my humming, Phillips?” He adds a dramatic looking pout, and pulls the puppy dog eyes out.
Carson ducks his head, blush spreading across his face. “Not hardly.”
“I think you’re lying.” He scootches closer, knocking their shoulders together.
Aaron’s pretty sure you could cut the tension between them with a knife. He feels like he almost can’t breathe with anticipation for whatever’s going to happen. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen, but he’s made up his mind that if Carson makes a move he isn’t going to deny him.
To be honest, he doesn’t think he could deny him.
Shaking his head in disagreement, Carson turns to look at Aaron. They’re almost in each other’s breathing space, and he can see the way Carson’s eyes flick downwards at his lips.
There’s a beat, before they’re both leaning towards each other. Aaron can almost feel Carson’s disgruntle about how cliche it is.
Aaron pauses, he’s not going to force it. It has to be Carson’s decision.
Carson sucks in a breath, and cups Aaron’s jaw with his hand, tugging him forward.
Their lips crash together, hot and heavy from the start. It feels familiar to Aaron, the way Carson tastes like peppermint with a hint of the coffee he had to drink. The way his jaw feels when Aaron places his hand on it. He uses his other hand to wrap around Carson’s waist, tugging his body closer. Aaron runs the hand on his jaw up to cup behind his ear, and Carson’s moans into his mouth.
He drags his lips away to kiss down the side of Carson’s neck, smooth and hot under him. The hands on him move to grip his hair, tugging gently to move Aaron’s head where he wants him. When Carson let’s out a breathy moan of “Aaron,” he stops moving his lips. He nips the spot a few times, before sucking the skin into his mouth. It’s already red, and he groans thinking of the hickey Carson will have tomorrow.
Aaron spends a few more minutes exploring Carson’s neck and leaving hickeys wherever Carson moan’s the loudest.
“Aaron, Aaron please.” Carson tugs Aaron’s head back up to face him. The man’s eyes are completely blown out, and there’s a red tint across his cheekbones and running down his neck. And when his eyes sweep lower, he can see the bulge pressing against his jeans.
Fuck, he did that. He’s made Carson that desperate. His own cock twitches in response, hardening at the sight of it all.
Aaron swallows. “What, Carson. What do you want?” Carson tries to press as close as he possibly can to him, failing to find the friction his hips seek.
“You-, just. You, Aaron.” Their lips crash together again, hungry and desperate.
“Okay,” Aaron breathes out in between kisses, “Okay, can-I, can I blow you?”
Carson freezes, and for a moment he thinks he might of gone too far.
But then he’s standing up, tugging Aaron up against him. “Y-yes, please.” Carson presses his groin against Aaron’s hipbone and grinds. A thrill runs through Aaron.
“Shhh, c’mon. Bed, sweetheart,” he purrs against Carson’s ear. He drags him towards the bedroom, stealing a hot and desperate kiss when he can, until Carson’s knees are hitting the edge of the bed. “Sit,” he says softly.
Carson sits down on his bed, leaning back on his hand. His breath is coming out in pants, The hoodie Aaron gave him is rumpled, and a possessive heat surges through him. Carson licks his lips, and Aaron can feel his cock pulse where its pressing against his jeans, as he imagines those lips wrapped around himself.
Carson first, he reminds himself.
He kneels at the side of the bed, and places his hands gently on Carson’s thighs to spread them so he can fit between them. Carson’s hand comes to grip at the back Aaron’s head, giving him a gentle squeeze that he takes as permission. Aaron groans as he surges forward, pressing fleeting kisses to Carson’s cock through his jeans. The hips below him try to thrust up, but Aaron presses them down with one arm. He moves his other hand to press up against his cock, feeling the length up it against his hand. Carson’s head tips back as he moans desperately.
“Aaron, please.” His voice is shaking.
He quickly undoes the button and zipper of Carson’s jeans, and urges him to stand up for a second. He pulls them down past his knees, Aaron slides his hands up to grip the waistband of the tight navy boxers, before looking up to meet Carson’s eyes. To his surprise, Carson’s own hands grip his boxers, and he slides them down. He steps out of both articles of clothing before settling back on the bed.
Aaron’s pretty sure he could die right here and be happy.
The cock in front of him is thick and perfect, with precum leaking down the red tip. He groans, before moving forward. Aaron lets a hand slide around Carson’s waist to keep him still, and the other wraps around the base of his cock. He gives a few tugs, causing Carson to grunt in response.
“I’m not going to last Aaron so-,” Carson manages to breathe out..Aaron hums in response, deciding to just go for it. He wraps his lips around the tip, and sucks gently.
“Oh fuck,” comes from above him, He smoothes his tongue Carson’s cock, collecting the precum, before pulling back to swallow it. He moans at the bitter taste, the taste of Carson, before taking him back in his mouth. Carson’s cock slides deeper this time, and he sucks it gently, using his hand to cover the rest.
Carson is a wreck above him, one hand flailing out before settling in Aaron’s hair, where it grips tightly, the other tangled in the sheets below him. He’s letting out high-pitched, desperate moans, and it isn’t long before he’s trying to tug Aaron off him.
“I’m, I’m going to come Aaron- you have to-oh,” he breaks off in a moan as Aaron takes him deeper.
He groans, and the hand that was wrapped around Carson’s waist comes down to press his own groin, desperate after being ignored. He quickly undone his own pants and reaches inside to tug at his cock.
Pleasure burst behind his eyes, and It only takes a few more seconds before Carson’s arching his back and there’s bitter fluid flooding Aaron’s mouth. He swallows it, moaning at the taste, when his own orgasm pulsates through his body.
He pulls back when Carson tugs his hair again, letting his cock slip out of his mouth. Aaron hums contently, resting his forehead on Carson’s knee.
The hand in his hair is running through it gently, and he presses back against. Carson laughs, tugging Aaron upwards until he can lean down and kiss him soundly. There’s a moan escaping Carson’s throat, and Aaron realizes that Carson can probably taste himself. Aaron let’s out a groan, and his cock twitches, but it’s too soon to even remotely think about round two.
When they pull back, Aaron fumbles around until he finds a t shirt to wipe himself off with, before tucking himself back in. Carson grabs his boxers off the floor and slide them back up legs, before standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. He picks up his pants, and hold them, like he can’t decide what he’s supposed to do.
There’s no way in hell Aaron’s going to let him leave this right now, not when he’s sure his body is still overly warm and his neck is littered with red marks that will bruise by morning. He might regret it tomorrow, when Carson disappears or the he’s met with awkward ‘post having sex breakfast’, but he just can’t be bothered.
Aaron stands up and moves towards him, taking the pants out of his hands.
Carson looks up at him in surprise.
The smile he receives back is worth all the regret in the world.
The noise startles Carson awake, and his first reaction is to panic. The room he’s in is not his, and there’s a weight against his back and oh-.
He had sex with Aaron and then stayed the night. He let out a breath of relief, relaxing back down into the bed and Aaron’s body.
There’s a quiet snuffling noise before the body against his back presses closer to him. He can feel Aaron’s nose pressing against his neck, and he wants to drown himself in the heavy feeling of this. The way he feels butterflies (and honestly, Carson wishes there was another way to describe it) in his stomach swoop every time Aaron shift around. Or the way he automatically smiles in fondness when the fingers against his stomach flex, or when he can smell the familiar scent of tangy orange and vanilla when he buries his nose in the hoodie he’s still wearing.
He swallows. Carson’s pretty positive he doesn’t hate Aaron anymore.
If he ever really did at all.
He promises himself to tell Aaron when he wakes up, and maybe make an offer for that coffee date-
He glances at Aaron’s phone on the bedside table, where it’s lit up. Carson thinks about leaving it be, but it could be an alarm for something. He lifts up slightly so he can see the screen of the phone.
Hey Aaron! Thanks for coming by the other night helping me with our next feature! Not to mention the extra article I made you write. The Editor in chief seat might be yours yet!
Carson can feel the wave of nausea rolling over him.
What the fuck was he thinking anyways? Here he is, in Aaron’s bed, and while their unfinished banner sits in the living room. Not to mention when he had been working his ass of to make up for what they didn’t finish, Aaron was hauling in extra hours.
He manages to unwrap himself from Aaron’s grasp without too many problems, and even gets his jeans on without waking him. When he goes to open the door, he realizes he still has Aaron’s hoodie on, but its too cold to go out without one, and his jacket can’t be dry yet from where it’s hanging by the window.
Once he’s outside, he realizes the time. It can’t be late then almost four in the morning, the air is nipping at his exposed face. So he starts sprinting back to his own dorm.
Carson couldn’t believe he left himself be this stupid. He prided himself on being above his hormone-driven peers who let their dreams be tainted by some silly lustful fantasy, but he just did the same thing they did.
Well, to be fair to himself, he’s pretty sure his hormones weren’t the only thing driving him towards Aaron.
And on top of all of that, he had sex with Aaron. Carson’s not even upset about that, or losing his virginity to him, but he had been a desperate mess every time they slept together. Every time Aaron touched him, it was like his brain short-circuited into something he didn’t have complete control over.
He wasn’t in control. Which is something he never wants to let a competitor see.
He throws himself at his bed when he gets to the room, curling up on his.
His heart aches in his chest, and he can almost feel tears threatening to slide from his eyes. But he buries his head in his pillow, clutching the sheets under him.
A wave of guilt hits him from every time he’s mocked the expression of a broken heart.
Aaron expects to wake up to a warm body curled up next to his.
When he opens his eyes, there’s no one there and the sheets beside him are cold. He presses his face into the pillow where Carson had slept, breathing it in deeply. He tries to ingrain the peppermint smell into his mind, because he’s not sure he’s ever to breathe it again.
Aaron tries to keep himself in check, because he knew all along that this would happen.
Carson didn’t want a relationship with him, and he never had.
Carson is fully prepared for the expected awkwardness at the next one-on-one newspaper meeting. He’s prepared for when Aaron sits on his desk in his mesh top with a hoodie pulled over it.
He’s not prepared for it to be his hoodie.
And he’s also not prepared for how broken Aaron looks.
They spend the whole meeting in silence, sliding the keyboard over and tilting the monitor so they can see.
The first words spoken come from Aaron, as he moves the stuff back over to Carson, even though it’s his turn. “Here, isn’t this your repetitive person?”
Carson looks at the screen and smiles at first, seeing the name signed at the bottom of the question. But the smiles slowly droops as he beings to read it.
Apparently Moaning Myrtle hasn’t been having a good day either.
I thought I was making progress with them, but nothing. They walked out on me the morning after, not even a note in sight.
Editor, I don’t know what to do anymore. I feel like I’m on my last leg, and they’re ready to knock me down.
We we’re doing great. There was laughing and smiling, and I let them come to me first. I feel like we have the potential to be so good, why won’t they give me a chance?
Hu gulps, the question pressing a little too close to his heart.
“Dear Moaning Myrtle,
If you didn’t know this already, sometimes I don’t have all the answers. And I wish I did, because I hate to see your heart broken, my friend (it feels like we’re friends, right?)
But I don’t know, and I wish I could change that.
The best advice I can give you right now is to make sure your feelings are true before doing anything else drastic. Don’t claim that they have to be with you, or that they owe you something.
Give them space if they want it.
There’s a beat where he just sits and stares at the screen, off in his place.
But Aaron clears his throat, and suddenly his head space is broken.
Aaron unzips his jacket (Carson’s jacket, his brain supplies) before leaning over to answer the next question. Carson doesn’t know why that sets him off, but it does.
“Do you ever plan on giving that back to me?”
Aaron’s eyes flick towards him in confusion. “Huh?”
“My jacket, I’d like it back.”
He watches as Aaron stretches until he’s sitting ramrod straight. “Oh yeah? How ‘bout you give me my hoodie back first.”
Carson’s face flushes, remembering where the hoodie is thrown over his pillow. “It’s not the same, you gave me the hoodie, I didn’t give you that jacket.”
He gets an eye roll in response, “I didn’t give you the hoodie. I let you borrow it because I felt bad that you looked like a drowned rat.” Aaron slides off the desk, and maneuvers Carson’s chair so he can stand in front of it. He places his hands on the armrest, trying to invade Carson’s space.
“If you’re trying to intimidate me, it’s not going to work,” Carson smirks as he leans forward more into Aaron’s space. He feels too hot in his own skin again, but this time he isn’t losing control.
One more time where Carson’s can prove he can control himself, and then he’s done having sex with Aaron Christopherson.
He stands up and presses his back against the wall right next to his desk. He tugs Aaron forward by his hoodie, and swings him so that Aaron’s back is pressed against the wall.
Carson grins smugly. Aaron’s eyes are wide and focused on Carson’s lips. All he has to do is swipe his tongue across them once before Aaron is surging forward, attempting to suck Carson’s tongue into his mouth. He easily regains control, and crowds Aaron up against the wall, letting their bodies press together completely.
The broken moan he gets in response when grinds his hips forward makes him grin. His anger for this man is driving him, teeth biting every patch of skin they can do, and using a hand to pin Aaron’s wrist above his head.
Aaron groans, responding to the thrust. There’s a fire simmering just below the surface of every place their touching, and there’s a white hot flash of pleasure every time Carson snaps his hips forward. The pace is brutal almost to a fault, but Carson doesn’t want to draw this out.
He wants to take.
He reaches down and fumbles with the button and zipper on his own jeans before undoing Aaron’s as well. The removal of the two layers lets him feel Aaron’s hard cock better, lets him enjoy the it feels against his own, hot and aching.
“Carson!” Aaron moans out before his rhythm starts getting frantic. Carson moves his lips to suck on a patch of skin under Aaron’s jawline, and he can feel the man underneath him start to come. His body seizes up, and he lets out a broken moan of Carson’s name. He can feel the wetness against his own cock, and it makes him moan happily. It only takes another thrust or two before Carson can feel his own release shoot through his body, soaking the front of his boxers.
He breathes for a moment, letting his body calm down.
Carson interrupts Aaron quickly. “That, that was me proving to myself that I can control these damn hormones.” He zips up his pants and steps back away from Aaron, “And now, I can be done with sex, and go back to the way I was before you happened.”
Aaron’s eyes flickered up at him, genuine confusion across them. “What do you mean being done with sex? How is that anything like the way you were before me?”
He narrows his eyes as picks up his bag. “It means, I never had sex until you came along. Wasn’t interested in the slightest. And since you happened I’ve been slacking off on my academics and everything else that’s actually important to my career.”
Carson makes sure to slam the door shut after himself.
Aaron Christopherson may have been an idiot before, but he’s pretty sure nothing has topped this.
When the door to the newspaper room clicks shut, Aaron slides onto the ground. He’s almost shaking with all the realizations in his head.
The biggest, and most pressing realization is that Carson had not been sleeping around. So, there was a very real possibility that whatever reason Carson had for not being in a relationship for (which apparently wasn’t just because he only desired sex) was changed because of Aaron.
They almost went on a coffee date. Carson had accepted his offer.
Then there was the other lingering realization in his head.
He was pretty sure he was in love with Carson Phillips. Because seeing him today was the equivalent to every cheesy metaphor in the young adult novels section.
And all he had done since the last time he’d seen him was try to drown in the smell buried on his sheets and the jacket he had left behind. Trying to recall the crinkles in his smile.
Suddenly, Carson’s words lace through his head again, and he comes to yet another realization.
He might still have a chance with Carson.
He made it very clear that the main reason he wasn’t giving into Aaron was the competition for editor in chief. He thought their “relationship” made him sink in his other duties.
It wouldn’t be very hard to disprove that theory.
There was just one thing he had to do first.
Carson spends that night distracting himself by answering the advice column questions.
Because they, once again, managed to not get them done
It takes two questions in for him to be startled.
So, I have a confession to make.
All this time I’ve been asking for advice, and asking your opinion? I’ve been wanting to impress you, my dear editor.
And I’ve messed up, because your advice doesn’t coincide with what you actually want, and add in a misunderstanding very, very early on, and you have disaster.
But that doesn’t change the fact that somewhere along the line, I think I fell much harder than I expected. And you have your reservations, I know that now. However, I think that you’re not seeing things correctly.
I plan to ask you a question at your live booth during parent weekend, and I hope you’ll say yes. If you absolutely do not want me to come, just send a message somehow,
If you haven’t already figured out who I am, than my name should be a clue. It has to deal with the first subject we spoke about.
Carson’s pretty sure his jaw drops to the floor. Because all along, this anonymous questioner who made his day brighter was someone he knew.
Someone who he first spoke to about Harry Pott-and shit. He lets out a gasp of surprise.
The first thing they talked about was quidditch. And it made sense, all the advice he gave Moaning Myrtle, Aaron had followed perfectly.
He has to clench his jaw, because he wants it. He wants Aaron’s confession, and finally getting that date. Being able to curl up in bed together and wake up in the together in the morning. He aches for it all.
Because he’s pretty sure somewhere down the line, he fell pretty damn hard too. He let’s himself have a moment before he admits what’s been on the tip of his tongue.
Carson’s pretty sure he’s in love with Aaron Christopherson.
But this competition for editor in chief, its his future on the line. The career he’s worked his entire life for.
He can’t risk it, no matter how much he wants to.
The first day of parent weekend starts with Carson almost falling off his bed trying to shut off his alarm. He’s pretty sure that has to be a sign about how today’s going to go.
He’s nervous all the way through his morning routine, because he knows what’s coming, but he doesn’t know when. Would Aaron asking early in the morning, and facing the possible rejection all day? Or is he going to make them wait it out until later?
And more importantly, why is he letting him ask at all? Carson could put a stop to it before it happens, he knows he has to say no already. Is he hoping for a reason that can let him say yes?
With his hands in his hoodie as he walks out the door.
Alice and Aaron are already at their booth on the quad, both standing on chairs trying to hang the banner. He approaches the booth, and watches them struggle to get it even for a moment.
“Christopherson, down a little,” he finally calls out. Aaron startles, and almost falls of his chair, clinging to the booth with his dear life. He moves the banner down. “Perfect.”
Once they tack the banner on, Alice is jumping off her chair and rushing at him.
“Good morning Carson!”
She wraps her arms around him in a hug. “You are constantly too happy in the morning.” He mutters, returning the hug.
“She was even worse when she showed up outside my dorm at the crack of dawn,” Aaron says as jumps off his own chair.
Carson swallows nervously. So they’re just acting like normal until Aaron asks, great.
“Yeah, she tends to do that.”
Alice is grinning like a loon, and moves back towards the booth. “Right, so here’s how its going to go. You two will be behind the table, and I will be standing in front of it. I pick who gets to ask a question, they ask, and one or both of you answer. Then we give the person a Daily Northwestern tshirt. Got it?”
They both nod. “Great, go take your seats, everyone should start coming soon.”
“Wait,” Aaron interrupts, “Are we answering them just like we do in the column? Or do we have to be family friendly?”
“Like the column, don’t go too overboard though, but this is a college campus.”
Carson slides into his seat at the table, and Aaron follows afterwards. He realizes just how close they’re going to be all day, elbows brushing against each other every time they move.
He has to be here for four hours. Great.
He realizes about an hour in that they’re much more popular than he thought. There’s a crowd formed in a half circle in front of their booth, and Carson can barely see the rest of the quad from the people. Alice is stand off to the side of the booth, so they can see both of them.
He can also notices how awkward they both are with each other. He doesn’t think their audience can tell, but every time one of them accidentally nudges the other there’s a moment of pause and tension. Every time one of them answers a question and the other just sits and watches them, staring and observing.
It’s driving him insane.
As she hands someone their t shirt, she chirps into the microphone. “Next question?” She walks over to a college kid in stereotypical jock clothes.
The kid takes the microphone off of Alice. “So, editors, have you ever had a favorite question?”
They both pause to think.
Aaron manages to answer first. “We-uh, got a question one time about someone shopping for small condoms for their friend,” he uses air quotes on friend, “That one was pretty damn funny.’
He gestures for Carson.
The problem is Carson, knows his answer. But does he really want to say it?
“My favorite question isn’t really a question, but a questioner.” He feels Aaron freeze beside him, eyes trained on Carson’s face. “Uh, if you read our column pretty regularly, you’ll probably recognize the name Moaning Myrtle. I’ve gotten kind of attached to them.” He smiles at the questioner before glancing at Aaron, whose eyes are wide with surprise. Carson offers him a small smile.
Aaron’s face seems to relax, and he returns the smile.
Carson starts to think he might not say no anymore.
It’s a few minutes until the official end of today’s outside parent weekend activities, and they’re the only booth still open. Most of the other booths had packed up and made their way over to stand in their half circle for the last couple of questions.
After Carson had answered the question about Moaning Myrtle, their dynamic seemed to pick back up. There were jabs at each other and playing off each others’ answer. The audience loved it.
They didn’t know that behind every smile was a whole lot of anticipation, because Aaron still hadn’t asked anything.
“Alright!” Alice claps her hand loudly, “We have one last question today, but the questioner has already been picked!”
When Aaron gets up to take her microphone, Carson feels like he’s going to puke.
He turns out to the crowd first. “Hi! As most of you know, I’m Aaron Christopherson, and I’m one half of the writers for this column. But, for a while now, I’ve also been going by a different name.”
Aaron turns around to face Carson.
“Dear Editor, when we first met I was beside myself that you agreed to go out with me. I couldn’t believe my luck. But, a few mishaps and a major misunderstanding,” he glares at Alice, “and we still haven’t gotten that date. But Carson, you have to know that I want that date, I want that date and more for as long as you’ll have me. I want to wake up beside you and see your hair sleep mused and I want to be able to kiss you breathless. Because somewhere in between everything, I fell in love with you, Carson Phillips,”
Carson feels like he’s a boat stranded in the ocean without an anchor. Everything and everyone else has been drowned out except for the man in front of him.
“Aaron-,” he chokes out.
“Let me finish Carson,” he smiles, “I understand where you’re coming from Carson about not wanting to date me, I do. I know we’re competitors for the editor position next year, and I know that this has been your dream for as long you can remember. And somehow, you feel like you’ve been slacking because of your feelings for me.” Aaron smiles gently, “But you haven’t. You’ve been doing better, Carson.”
He raises his eye at the other man, because there’s no way that can be true.
“Since we’ve be competitors Carson, you’re no longer feared by the staff, You haven’t been yelling at them, or glaring at them, because you want them to like you more than me. You’ve done twice the work on the column. You’ve taken more jobs outside the column in order to beat me, and have even agreed to do stuff like this, which you have to admit you wouldn’t have done last year.”
Carson gulps, because he’s right. Of course he is. He never would of done any of that stuff last year, because he wasn’t fighting for the spot. He thought he had in the bag.
“And all that stuff you think you put off because of me? You still managed to finish it, and usually earlier than it might have gotten done anyways, because you were trying to prove something.”
There are tears threatening to break free and run down his cheek, but he can’t. Not yet, not now.
“So, one last question editor. Would you finally like to go on our coffee date? Sincerely, Moaning Myrtle.”
The crowd gasps in surprise, but Carson can’t hear them over the sound of his heart thrumming in his chest. He gets up to slide around the booth until he’s standing in front of Aaron.
He takes the microphone out of Aaron’s hand. He breathes a “yes you asshole” into it before he drops it on the ground and crushes his lips against Aaron’s.
Aaron grumbles next to him, and Carson has to laugh. They’re snuggled in Aaron’s bed, with Aaron’s front pressed against his back, and a hand resting on his stomach.
“Why won’t Alice stop texting me, can’t she leave us alone for a few hours?” Aaron buries a whine into the back of Carson’s shirt. Carson picks up Aaron’s phone off the nightstand and slides it to silent mode.
Aaron press a kiss to the back of his neck, “Mm, love you.”
A thrill jolts through Carson. He doesn’t think it he’ll ever be able to get of rid of that feeling every time Aaron says it.
It hasn’t even been a day since the booth. They went straight to get coffee afterwards and then made the decision to return to Aaron’s dorm, where they’ve been since.
He turns so he’s on his back, and Aaron’s on his side hovering over him. “I love you too,”
Aaron’s eyes widen, and his grin stretches across his whole face. He leans down to capture Carson’s lips with own. It’s a new feeling, kissing with the knowledge that you love the person, Carson thinks. It’s a slow building ache, instead of the insistent rush of before.
He grins into the kiss, grabbing at Aaron’s shoulders to pull him down closer. Aaron takes the hint, and he shift around so his knees are on either side of Carson’s hip and he’s hovering above him.
Carson pulls back from the kiss, and grabs the bottom of Aaron’s t shirt. “W-would you?” He tugs at the shirt.
Aaron grins wickedly. “Only if you do too.” Carson nods, watching as Aaron sits back and pulls his shirt over his head.
“Oh,” he breathes out. For all the times they fooled around, they had never really shown too much skin. Carson feels his face heat up as he looks at Aaron’s chest, well tanned and defined.
“Your turn,” Aaron murmurs, before pressing a kiss to his cheek. He backs up so Carson has enough room, and he slide his hoodie and shirt off in one go. He lies back down on the bed afterwards, watching as Aaron’s eyes roam over his body.
There’s a groan and suddenly Aaron’s lips are on his neck, sucking marks into his skin. “You are so damn gorgeous.”
“Y-you too,” he manages to stutter out in reply. They press closer together, and when their bare skin finally meets they both moan loudly. It’s hot everywhere, and he can feel the ache in his groin become more prominent, so he thrust his hips upward, finding friction against Aaron’s hipbone.
Aaron grunts before shifting and thrust his own hips down, their cocks now lined up through four layers of clothing. It doesn’t take long before they have a rhythm going, and Carson can feel the desperate whines coming out his mouth. Aaron’s still pressing fleeting kisses over his neck and jaw, before finally kissing him on the lips.
“Mm, wait,” Aaron pulls back, “Can we, uhm, take off the rest of our clothes?”
And oh. “Yes, please,” he groans back, pressing another kiss to Aaron’s mouth. He reaches down and undoes the buttons and zipper on Aaron’s jean. Carson slides his hand inside and palms Aaron’s cock, causing his hips to jerk, and there’s moan above him. “Mmm, you have to get off the bed in order for us to take our pants off.”
Aaron huffs, and slides off the bed. Carson fumbles with his own jeans, and slides his jeans and boxers off his legs. He tosses them off the other side of the bed and looks over, where Aaron is standing beside the bed, completely naked.
Aaron’s eyes darken when they land on Carson spread out on his bed. Carson let’s out a laugh as Aaron climbs back on top of him.
“Fuck, Carson stop laughing at me. This is like, every fantasy I’ve had this year,” he grunts at their cocks line back up. It feels good, but he feels like he needs more.
“Uhn-, do you have any lube?”
Aaron reaches over Carson to pull at the nightstand drawer. He returns to his position with a bottle of lube in hand. They grind together while Aaron coats his hand in lube, letting it warm up before reaching between them.
He wraps around his hand around both of their cocks, coating them with lube. Carson’s hips jerk up as he moans brokenly.
“Shhh, I know sweetheart,” Aaron leans over to kiss him again. Its sweet and tender, completely contrasting of the way their hips are thrusting against each other.
The tug of Aaron’s hand, the glide of their lubed up cocks, and Aaron’s mouth tenderly kissing him is all too much.
“Aaron-” he moans into his mouth, hips stuttering upwards. He’s close, and he scrambles to grip Aaron’s shoulder, needing an anchor.
Aaron pants into his mouth. “Let go, Carson. Mm, love you so much.”
Carson let’s out one last moan, before he feels his orgasm take over. There’s burst of pleasure ricocheting through his body, leaving him breathless. He can feel where his cum landed against his chest, and Aaron gives him one last tug before letting go.
He’s too exhausted to do much more then be used, so Aaron situates so he’s thrusting against Carson’s hipbone, and Carson slides his hands down to grip the fleshy part of Aaron’s ass, spurring him on.
He moves his lips up to Aaron’s ear, nibbling gently and whispers against him. “Love you too.”
And that does it for Aaron. He lets out a whining noise, shivering against Carson’s body, before collapsing on top of him.
Carson rolls them over gently so they’re on their sides, facing each other. He brings the covers up around their shoulders, and Aaron buries his nose in Carson’s neck inhaling. He grabs his hand and laces their fingers together, letting them rest against Carson’s chest.
He doesn’t think anything has ever felt quite so perfect.
Alice is going to kill them.
It’s a minute until she asked them to meet her in the newspaper room and they’re not here yet.
She’s hot from her graduation robes she had to wear all day, and more than irritated at having to of spent all morning at the ceremony as they announced every single person that graduated from Northwestern University.
She’s not in the mood for their antics.
Right as the clock turns five, the door swings open with a bang, and they both shuffle in. Their hair is skewed in different places and they’re both red in the face. She can’t fucking believe them.
Sometimes she thinks she’s picking the wrong person for the job.
“I swear to god, if you two would of missed this I would have given the position to Steve from sports.” They both look suitably upset, which makes her grin.
She stands up from her chair to move around and sit on her desk, facing the two of them in the chairs. Their hands are laced and dangling in the space between two chairs, which makes her feel all the more right with her decision.
“Right, so you have both been called here today for the announcement of who will be Editor in Chief next year,” She pauses. She debates drawing this out, but they actually both looked worried, and it makes her go easy on them.
“You will both be editor in chief. Well, more like co-editor in chiefs.” She says.
Both of their faces morph into shock, and then to joy.
Alice smiles at Aaron, “Really. There was no way in hell I could split the two of you apart.”
Carson stands up from his seat and wraps her up in a hug. “Thank you,” he whispers.
Maybe she’s picking the right people after all.