Their freshman year, TK had been so fucking shitty at making drinks. Nolan hadn’t known anything either, so he’d suffered through TK’s Mad Dog and vodkas and peppermint schnapps and Fireballs, and now, a month from the end of their senior year, when TK hands him a glass and Nolan sips out of it and tastes something sweet and spicy and smooth, it’s like he’s earned it.
“Mm,” he tells TK, his head tipped back on their futon, body sprawled out, glass cold and wet in his hand. He’s got a hint of a hangover; headache and fading nausea that’s settled down since they ate lunch and went for a run.
“Thanks,” TK says, crashing down next to him, making the bars of their four-year-old futon shake and rattle.
They’re both quiet for a while; just little sipping noises and TK breathily laughing every few minutes at stuff he sees on his phone.
It’s nice in this way Nolan’s been thinking about way too fucking much this semester.
TK’s hand lands on Nolan’s knee, palm hot, and it’s like he can always read Nolan’s mind, except when Nolan really, really wants him to.
// Four years ago, Nolan had sat on his shitty dorm mattress for the first time, fingers wrapped around the smooth wooden edge the bed frame, feeling the absence of his mom and dad; his ears tuned in to the hum of the lights in a way they weren’t at home where the noises in his house were like nothing.
TK was smiling over at Nolan every second, fucking around with the Xbox cords and asking, “So, do you think we should get a toaster? I mean I know it’s supposedly illegal but, like, don’t you think it’d be nice?”
Nolan ignored him, and braced himself, and said, “Sorry I didn’t put it on my roommate form thing, but I’m bi.”
It felt weird to say. He’d barely ever told anyone before: Ivan, because Nolan’d known him for years and then kissed him once, really awkward and really shitty, and it’d just seemed like a good time to come out to his first person. And then his sisters, then his parents, in the summer between high school and college.
It wasn’t something TK needed to know, but Nolan wanted him to. He didn’t want to spend more time living with someone without knowing exactly what their reaction would be.
TK’s face was expressive in a way Nolan really was just not used to. He couldn’t really follow what TK was thinking from wide eyes to frown to parted lips, but before he had time to think about it, TK was talking anyways.
“Don’t say sorry, dude, I don’t even think that was on the form. And, hey,” he looked intently at Nolan, and Nolan blinked away, then back. “I’m cool.”
TK was cool about it. Was the first person Nolan really felt like he could talk to about it; could tell about shitty hook-ups, or, better, good hook-ups.
It wasn’t until months into their first semester that TK realized he was bi, too, and fuck was that a conversation--TK wasted and weepy, hanging off Nolan’s shoulder as they made their way back from a party, Nolan struggling to figure out what TK was saying as he slurred through coming out; telling Nolan he’d never really realized it was an option for him before he got to school and heard Nolan tell him he was into guys and girls.
Even after TK told him; after he found out he and TK both liked guys, he hadn't thought about TK as anything more than his friend. He didn't though TK was hot, for a long time. Like, he hadn't thought he wasn't hot, but he'd just never thought that much about it at all.
Then they came back from the summer after their junior year, and Nolan walked into their dorm, and TK was sprawled out shirtless on the bottom bunk, dark tan and smiling, and Nolan took one look at him and was like: oh. //
Sitting with TK on the couch now, neck craned sideways, both of them hungover and sloppy, he doesn’t fucking get how he missed it. How he didn’t get caught up staring at TK’s eyes to figure out where on the spectrum of blue-brown-green they were that day; how he hadn't noticed the way the ends of TK’s hair curled up towards his jaw; how he wasn’t always obsessed with the bulge of Travis’ bicep under the black of his tattoo.
“Wanna do something?” TK asks now, fingers trailing through Nolan’s leg hair.
TK’s hair is shoved back under his hat, a lock of it spilling out, sweaty. He smiles as Nolan looks at him, easy and fun, cheeks dimpling.
“Yeah,” Nolan says, slouching down further and patting at the top of his thigh. “C’mon.”
Travis grins at him--fuck, his smile--and grabs Nolan’s glass, then leans down to put both their drinks on the floor before moving easily onto Nolan’s lap.
“Cracks me up how you always pretend to be bossy at first.”
Nolan rolls his eyes and ignores that. He reaches up and shoves his fingers into TK’s hair, forcing his hat off, and TK does the same thing back. TK’s been growing his hair out, and Nolan got his cut not that long ago, so they both have pretty much exactly the same length. It’s hot, in the way everything with TK is hot; in the way everything with another guy always is--same on same--and plus it feels like a fucking painting or something--symmetrical, and like that means something more than that TK sucks at remembering to do, like, basic adult shit.
“We should shower before we go out,” TK tells Nolan, fingers rubbing at his scalp, at the greasy roots of his hair.
Nolan cups the back of TK's head and pulls him into a kiss, sticking his tongue into TK’s mouth and then pulling it back and letting TK take over, moaning a little when TK uses the hands in Nolan’s hair to tilt his head, getting a better angle on him.
One more month of this, Nolan thinks.
One fucking month before graduation, before TK decides he wants to date someone for real and not just screw around. Before Nolan has to stop fucking kidding himself that there’s a world where TK’s gonna notice the way Nolan’s always staring at him and being soft about him; that there’s a world where TK feels the same way.
A month for Nolan to try to get everything he can with TK.
“Softest fuckin’ lips,” TK mumbles against him, and Nolan melts further into him, and doesn’t let himself think.
// They hooked up four times before they ever kissed. Sucked each others’ dicks and gave each other handjobs, and even did a little bit of, like, playing with Nolan’s ass or whatever.
Nolan got the idea for it right after coming back from break, after a week-late New Year's party, drunk and red faced and feeling wild at the thought of it being his last semester.
TK had this dumb stick and poke kit he'd been talking about using forever, and when they stumbled back into their room after the party--TK a little less drunk than Nolan--Nolan had shoved his pants off, and told TK to do it.
Alone in their dorm together, with Nolan half naked and TK’s fucking face an inch from Nolan’s dick for twenty minutes while he mouth breathed all over it and stuck a needle into the little area next to the crease of Nolan’s thigh over and over again, it was hard not to think about how TK seemed like he'd be so good in bed, nice and encouraging and fun, and how he had nice hands, and how Nolan trusted to do this to him.
The first time they’d messed around was a week later, after Nolan spent fucking hours thinking about TK’s mouth on his dick and the other way around, and then finally just stopped thinking and bodied his way into the shower stall TK’d just gone into in their floor’s bathroom. Found him down to his briefs and made him yelp and said, “Want me to suck your dick or whatever,” in the flattest voice.
Nolan hadn’t been, like, one hundred percent for sure that TK would say yes. He knew he was hot, and he knew from years of talking to TK about basically everything that he was TK’s type.
“Uh, bigger,” TK had stuttered out back in their sophomore or junior year sometime. Nolan didn’t remember how it came up, but he remembered TK blushing. Saying, “You know, muscular. I like tattoos. Maybe hair like ours, I guess," remembered feeling smug and giving TK shit about it.
Plus, he knew TK was horny, because he’d been whining about it, and he knew the way TK looked at him, sometimes, so. He was pretty sure.
They both got all the way naked for it, because they were both going to be under the spray of the shower, and Nolan’d gotten on his bare knees on the tile--which, gross--and given TK his first blowjob from a guy (although he didn’t find that out until later), sucking so hard on TK’s dick his cheeks were hollow and sore and there were all these loud as fuck, definitely audible to anyone else in the bathroom, slurpy noises.
After the second time it happened, TK asked, “Would you wanna, uh, keep doing this? Like, friends with bennies?” and after the fourth, Nolan decided he wanted TK to be the first person to fuck him.
It took longer than Nolan expected to get stretched out enough to take even three of TK’s fingers, and then he got soft when TK slid into him, and it took TK a while to find the right angle and get him hard again, but then it was just fucking good, and that was a simple word for it but it felt simple, more than Nolan thought sex could really be.
He’d been worried he’d feel big and gangly and lazy, the way he kind of sometimes did when he had sex; like there was something he was supposed to be doing that he didn’t know about.
He doesn’t know how Travis really did it--maybe the way his eyes were on Nolan the whole time like he was the hottest thing in the world; maybe how perfect his dick was, big but not too big--but for the whole time TK was inside of him, he felt sexy and easy and connected in a way he’d literally never felt during sex before.
TK was right there above him (because “c’mon man, you literally have to lose your virginity in missionary”) and they were breathing into each other’s mouths and Nolan liked girls; still liked girls, but bottoming felt so right it was wild.
He was out of it enough that he’d pulled TK’s face down to his without thinking about boundaries or being chill or whatever. TK just went where Nolan’s hand on the back of his neck led him; leaned forward and opened Nolan’s mouth with his. //
They kiss every time now. They sometimes just kiss, and that’s one of the things that Nolan can’t really figure out how to think about without feeling crazy.
They’re definitely not going to stop at kissing now, though.
They get off and cuddle for a long-ass time, then shower, then pregame a little more. TK's really good at making sure they catch up fast, so by the time they start getting dressed to go out again, Nolan feels soft and warm-cheeked; close to drunk but not quite there.
He pulls on shorts and a t-shirt he knows he looks hot in, and Travis dresses the way he always dresses, and they walk four blocks to the frat house where TK’s buddy Law lives.
If Nolan hadn’t stumbled into being roommates with TK, he’s pretty sure he’d never know when or where parties were happening, but TK knows like every single person on campus, and they all love him, so Nolan just rides that wave.
They partied a lot their freshman year, then chilled out on it for a while in the middle, but now they’re in their last semester, and TK keeps saying stuff like, “Patty, this could be the last frat party we ever get to go,” every time they get invited anywhere, and Nolan feels kind of like everything he likes about his life is about to get fucked up, and he’s just going to graduate and immediately turn into a dad with an accounting job or something, and who knows what TK's going to do, or where he's going to be, or--
So they go out two nights a weekend, pretty much every weekend.
Within a half hour Nolan and TK are both three cups deep in this weird, sweet as fuck Malibu punch the frat has in a big blue tote, and it makes everything loose and easy. Nolan’s perched on the arm of one of the old couches in the living room, the edge of it digging into the bones of his ass, and TK’s right up against him, his legs bracketing Nolan’s, as close to being in Nolan’s lap as he can get while still mostly standing.
They’ve kissed and stuff in public before. Like, two weeks ago they were dancing at a party and TK ground his ass on Nolan’s dick so much that Nolan practically came from it. It’s all just college; just knowing they’re young and everyone around them is doing stupid shit, too.
Nolan’s trying to get his hands as deep into TK’s hair as he can, and it feels like TK’s doing the same, clutching at the strands of Nolan’s hair, hauling him back closer when Nolan pulls away to take a breath, cupping Nolan’s whole head with his hands.
TK tastes like sunscreen, which feels like exactly what TK should taste like--sun and summer and sweetness.
Nolan feels syrupy. He’s not, like, wasted, but he’s been drinking for long enough that it’s all kind of built on him gradually, and he’s at this point where everything just feels slow.
Like, it feels like this morning was fucking forever ago. Feels like it’s been weeks since he got off with TK instead of a couple hours.
Nolan is maybe, like, hovering pretty close to the tasting / kissing line; is maybe letting TK do most of the work and is just letting himself get loose and heavy and sucking all the coconut flavor off TK’s tongue.
“Patty,” TK laughs, his breath hot in Nolan’s mouth. “I can just get you another drink if you want.”
“Fuck off,” Nolan sighs into him. It’s not that. Or, it’s not totally that.
“You can do a body shot off me,” TK offers, lips pressing into a smile against Nolan’s, and Nolan's body surges with a wave of heat. “Or I can go get that girl from the kitchen? With the red--”
“Shut up,” Nolan breathes, and then he has to pull back and tuck his face into Travis’ neck to hide the dark flush of his cheeks. His voice sounds stupid. Rough and torn up and all fucking emotional. Since when can he not keep his shit under wraps on a couch in the middle of a fucking frat party?
TK stills a little and pulls at Nolan’s hair like he’s trying to get him to look up. Nolan sighs against his neck and untangles his hands from TK’s hair, bringing them down to his waist and sliding them under his shirt.
TK’s running hot, sweating a little, and it’s always fucking wild how smooth he is. A little line of hair trailing down his belly and between his pecs, and then just fucking bare skin. Nolan’s probably felt Travis here like fifty times, but he still gets caught up in it, just spreading his hands out as wide as they can go and running them all over TK’s waist and abs and chest.
TK groans a little, quiet enough for just Nolan to hear it, and shifts further into Nolan’s lap, putting more weight onto him. He pulls Nolan’s hair again, but just enough to settle Nolan’s mouth at the little dip behind his ear where he likes Nolan to lick, and then he shoves his hands up under Nolan’s shirt, too, rough heels of his palms scraping up Nolan’s stomach, landing on his chest and cupping hot around the little bit of flesh there, soft centers of his palms brushing Nolan’s nipples.
Nolan’s never had anyone besides TK touch him the way TK does--hands cupping at Nolan’s pecs like he’s got tits, fingers patiently pinching at his nipples like he’s a girl.
Nolan tries to keep his hips from moving. He’ll go to second base with TK in front of all these people at the party, fine, he’s seen way fucking worse from other couples, but he really doesn’t want to actually get, like, all the way hard while he’s leaning on a couch that has three other people sitting on it.
TK flexes his hands, squeezing at Nolan, and Nolan digs his teeth into TK’s neck, biting in a noise.
“Fuck,” TK says, maybe loud enough for someone else to hear this time.
Nolan clutches at his waist and says into his skin, “Do you think Lawson would let us use his room?”
TK twitches. “Yeah, yeah, let’s do that,” he says, high and excited, sounding like freshman year TK before Nolan taught him how to be cool. “I mean, we can change the sheets after or something, right?” He pauses. “Except, like. He always complains about how his door doesn’t lock, though?” He says it like he’s holding his breath.
Nolan blinks his eyes open. He’s got TK on his lap, TK’s hands under his clothes, in a room packed with other people. It’s not the same as getting naked and having sex with a door that anyone could come by and open.
He keeps realizing the same things over and over, lately. That for the first time in years he has a secret TK doesn’t know; that he can’t open his mouth and tell TK the way he keeps almost accidentally doing. That he has thirty days left before he stops being convenient, three feet away, always right there.
“I’m fine with it,” Nolan says, and shoves himself off TK, grabbing his hand and hauling him up and toward the stairs.
// They started fucking in the middle of January, and by Valentine’s Day, hearing TK say regular funny TK shit like “Dude, you’re the best fuckbuddy ever” while Nolan was on his knees sucking his dick, or “Whoa, check out that guy by the granola” while they were at the grocery store, made Nolan feel sort of sick.
He was putting a lot of concentration into not, like, feeling things about TK, most days, but on Valentine's Day, he just decided to kind of, like. Try to do something about it.
It was fucking embarrassing.
Nolan didn’t know shit about being romantic, obviously, but Valentine’s Day was easy: there was a whole section at the store about it, and all he had to do was pick something. He ended up actually doing pretty well, he thought. He bought this little fake tackle box filled with gummy worms and candy fish and shit that said “Hooked on You” on top, which was great, because it was about fishing and because it didn’t say “I love you” or “You’re my soulmate” or something stupid like that that Nolan really didn’t want to, just, like, have TK think was a joke.
And he wanted to do something that felt like a date but didn’t require actually fucking asking TK out, so he’d bought pancake mix and chocolate chips and bacon and syrup, because breakfast was TK’s favorite meal.
He gave TK his little tackle box late in the afternoon--or, like, he threw it onto TK’s chest so TK had to look at it and then mumbled a yeah when he picked it up and said, “Did you get this for me?” all stunned.
Nolan watched, ribs tight and face fucking burning, as TK grinned all huge and happy, popped open the box, and bit the head off a gummy worm. He chewed and swallowed, and then blinked and looked up at Nolan with his face suddenly all sad puppy. “I didn’t get you anything."
“C’mere,” TK said, “I’ll give you a really good blowjob.”
Nolan hauled TK up off his bed and bodied him up against their bunk bed ladder and kissed him, hard plastic rectangle of the tackle box between them, TK’s mouth so fucking soft, and then he’d led him out into their floor’s kitchen where his bag of groceries was and told TK to cook for him.
TK had been so fucking quiet the whole time, standing at the stove hunched over a pan, flipping pancakes while Nolan microwaved bacon. He’d told Nolan not to look, and Nolan had rolled his eyes and sat at the little kitchen table and ate half the plate of bacon while TK fucked up a whole pile of pancakes, and then finally made a happy noise, turned, and set a plate down in front of Nolan.
There was a pancake in the shape of a long, slightly curved dick.
“Can you tell what it is?” TK had asked excitedly.
“Obviously.” Nolan rubbed his forehead. “It’s a fucking dick.”
“It’s your dick,” Travis told him, shoving Nolan around a little and sitting himself down on one of Nolan’s legs, running his finger over the, like, head of the fucking pancake dick what the fuck. “See? And this?” He stroked a fingertip along the curve, slow, and made a pleased noise. “It’s good, right?”
Obviously it was going to be a dick and not a fucking heart or whatever, because that’s what he and TK were like. Nolan tried not to sound hurt. “Yeah, it’s great. Thanks.”
TK smiled down at him and leaned in to smack a kiss on the bridge of his nose, then got back up and went over to the stove again. “Okay, now I’m gonna do mine.” //
Lawson’s a, like, lead brother in the frat or something--Nolan doesn’t know shit about frats and he doesn’t want to--so he’s for sure gonna be downstairs, socializing and making sure nothing goes wrong, until everyone else is gone.
His room is small but bigger than the one TK and Nolan share, and he’s got a full instead of a twin, which is like a fucking luxury.
Nolan and TK shove the door as tightly shut as it will go and strip off all their clothes before pushing Law’s comforter back and pulling each other down onto his sheets. Nolan rolls TK on top of him and TK wriggles a ton, all worked up and hard and enthusiastic already.
“Fuck, Patty,” he says, grinding his dick down against Nolan’s, kissing down his neck and then sucking on one of his nipples.
“Mnh,” Nolan says, stomach kind of shaking a little, line of pleasure between his nipple and dick thrumming through him.
Nolan’s, like, all about long, drawn out sex, but not really while they’re in a bedroom with a door that will barely close and won’t lock, at a frat party.
And, also, he just kind of doesn’t feel like he can deal with it right now and still act normal about it.
“Come on,” he says, and pushes down on the top of TK’s head.
TK bites at his nipple once and then slides his mouth, open and wet, all the way down Nolan’s body, skipping past his dick and settling deep between his legs.
Nolan tips his head back and parts his thighs, and TK mouths at the stick and poke he gave Nolan.
// TK was squinting, focused and serious and intent, at the space where Nolan had just shaved.
"You look stupid," Nolan huffed a laugh at him.
TK glanced up, grinning, white teeth and eyes looking blue. "Thanks, bud. You're looking totally cool, so." He gestured to Nolan, shirt on and pants off, thick pubes with one little square of bare skin in the middle of them, soft dick hanging right next to where TK's hand was braced on him.
Nolan would’ve been hard--he had been hard, for like, half a second--but the needle hurt like hell, and so he softened up fast enough that it wasn’t, like, a thing.
He didn't watch TK the whole time. After a few minutes he gave up on trying to crane his neck and figure out what TK was drawing, and just tipped his head back and closed his eyes. He thought about how TK could put anything he wanted on him; how Nolan had just stripped down and handed his body over like it was easy. He made himself stop thinking about that, because he didn't want to get shit from TK about having a tattoo kink when he one hundred percent didn't.
“Dude,” Nolan said into their mirror after TK’d finally stood back up, smiling all proud. “You gave me a fucking Christmas tree.”
TK rolled his eyes. “It’s not. ” He hooked his chin over Nolan’s shoulder to look at the tat in the mirror and pursed his lips. It looked like what a fucking kid would draw on the front of a Christmas card for their mom or something--inch long vertical line for the stump, and then little slanted down lines coming out of it, the bottom few on the left side a little wobbly, then the rest mostly straight. “Well," TK said, "it’s a spruce tree.” When Nolan laughed at him, he pressed his chin harder down into the muscle of Nolan’s shoulder, pouting. “Dude, it’s a cool fucking nature thing. It’s not a Christmas tree.”
Nolan elbowed TK in the hip and kept staring in the mirror for a minute, eyes all caught up the way they always got when he got a new tattoo.
He'd chosen this spot, this space between his dick and thigh, thinking the hair’d be thick enough to totally hide the tattoo once it grew back.
It stood out a shit ton because it was on a patch of shaved, blood flushed skin surrounded by thick hair, and the ink was so dark that Nolan realized it was probably going to show even once his hair grew back. It was never gonna be something that, like, other guys in the gym showers would notice, but it was close enough to the base of his dick that if he was ever getting, like, particularly thoughtful head, the person doing it might see it.
“Dude, everyone who sucks my dick now is just gonna be staring at this fuckin’ Christmas tree, what the fuck. ”
TK rolled his eyes again, dramatic and exaggerated, and gripped Nolan’s shoulder to spin him around. Having TK touch him over his clothes made him really, like, feel the fact that he was still wearing a shirt and no pants again, which was a weird look; a weird feel.
“Don’t be a drama queen.” TK dropped to his knees, and Nolan’s stomach got a little light. “Look. My eyes are right here--” he pointed the first and second fingers of one hand at his eyes, then at the trail of hair under Nolan’s navel. “And my majestic black spruce is right there--” he jabbed the tip of a finger right next to the tattoo, making Nolan flinch away.
“Okay dude, jeez. Don’t fuckin poke me.” //
Nolan hasn’t really worried about the stupid tattoo since then (even though he’s gotten way more really thoughtful really thorough head in the past few months than he ever has before in his life) because the only person who’s seen him naked up close since then is TK, who knows about it already and is, like, super weirdly into it.
“Gonna give you another one of these,” TK says now, tongue sloppy wet on the tree.
“Where,” Nolan huffs, because fuck TK’s weird ass for getting him so into this specific type of dirty talk.
They’ve had this same basic exchange enough times that Nolan has a pretty clear idea what TK’s, like, three potential answers are: “on your ass” or “other side of your dick” or “thigh, baby.”
“On your arm,” TK pants, making Nolan's stomach drop out and his dick kick against his belly. “Right on your wrist so everyone sees it all the time." Nolan doesn’t mean to, but he shivers so hard at that there’s no way TK doesn’t feel it. “Yeah?” TK asks, pulling back for a second to grin up at him.
“Whatever. No, because you’ll just do something stupid." He huffs a breath and tries to sound normal. "Fuckin', like, Easter egg or some shit.”
TK ducks back down to smile against Nolan’s skin. Runs the tip of his tongue all the way up the crease of Nolan’s thigh, then back down. He turns his head to kiss Nolan’s balls, and makes his voice low enough that it rumbles Nolan a little there: “Yeah, something stupid,” he says, and Nolan stutters out a breath. “Maybe draw a little stick figure guy with a big dick. Maybe write ‘TK,’ eh?”
“Fuck, you’re such an idiot,” Nolan drags out, sliding one hand into TK’s hair and one hand into his own, tightening his fingers in both.
“Yeah, babe,” TK says happily, and then sucks Nolan’s balls into his mouth and grabs his dick.
He gets Nolan close like that. Far enough along that Nolan’s whimpering and twitching and trying so hard to just come because he can’t fucking stand waiting anymore, and then someone starts to open the door, a sliver of light slicing into the room, and TK pulls his hand and his mouth off all at once.
“Get the fuck out,” Nolan yells, the force of it pulling his shoulders off the bed for a second before he flops back down with a noisy creak of springs.
He puts an arm over his face and tries to breathe through the feeling like he’s been yanked back from the edge of a cliff he really wanted to fall off of.
The door is slammed back shut, and whoever it is in the hall must just beat it. “Fuck you,” Nolan says into the crook of his elbow, smell of his own sweat surrounding him. “You didn’t have to fucking stop.”
TK grabs Nolan’s dick and gives it one more stroke, then a kiss at the head, before crawling up Nolan’s body to straddle his waist. “Maybe that was my plan the whole time.” He pushes Nolan’s arm off his face, and when Nolan opens his eyes he's smiling down at him, his whole face so sweet Nolan has to pull him down into a kiss so he doesn't have to look at him.
He keeps it short and pulls back after a second. “Dude, I’ve slept with you before, I know you’re not some big fucking sex planner.”
“Maybe I wanted to do something special tonight,” TK says, sliding his fingers through the hair on Nolan’s chest, voice jokey like it almost always is, but smile warm and eyes, like, kind of blown wide open, somehow.
It’s like-- Nolan keeps having all these moments with TK that make him wonder: TK running to the store when Nolan was sick a couple months ago, bringing him all the shit he likes. The first time they made out and did nothing else, when they were both hungover and not even horny but TK whined “c’mere, I miss you” until Nolan got in bed with him. TK constantly saying shit about how much he didn’t want to stop living with Nolan.
“Did you?” Nolan asks, his voice so low and rough it makes him blush.
Travis’ eyes trace over his face, and then he drops his smile and looks serious for like, the fifth time since Nolan has known him.
What are you looking at me like that for? Nolan wants to beg him.
“Not like, a plan plan. I just. Like, kind of wanted to ask you about trying something, so I didn’t want you to come yet.” Nolan raises his eyebrows, up and down, and TK blows a sigh out onto his face. “I kind of wanted to try’n rim you, if you want,” he says quickly.
Nolan’s brain doesn’t even make it to thinking about TK’s tongue in his ass, because he gets caught up thinking about TK thinking about that, and liking enough that he’s asking for it, in Lawson’s fucking bed with an unlocked door and fifty fucking people outside of it.
“Uh, okay.” He doesn’t sound enthusiastic, but it’s not because he’s fucking not. He’s just--just. Just fucking braindead. “I’ve never had anyone--like--”
“Fuck,” TK swears. “Fuck, let me do it please.” He sounds fucking starving, his voice raw, his hands rubbing down Nolan’s sides and squeezing around his hips.
“Yeah, like--yeah, obviously.”
And then before Nolan’s even caught his breath TK lurches back down between Nolan’s legs and spreads Nolan’s thighs on the width of his shoulders. “Good like this?” he asks.
Nolan nods, his mouth open, the muscles in his legs and ass quivering like he just pushed himself too hard in a workout.
TK pauses for a minute, just looks at Nolan's ass, and then he licks the pad of his middle finger and reaches out and slips it across Nolan’s hole, touch light. Nolan's breath shakes. HIs hole clenches, and TK makes a rough sound.
“Okay,” he says, voice all intent and focused like how he talks to himself when they’re studying sometimes. “Here we go.”
// Nolan’d never been super into hooking up a lot, so he didn’t think it was that weird that he just stopped doing it at all once he and TK actually talked and agreed that, like, their asses were on tap for each other all the time.
The one time TK hooked up with someone else after they’d started, he spent the whole night trying not to feel like shit about it.
He laid in his bunk on top of TK’s and listened to the sounds of TK and this girl from his bio lab group. It’s good that it’s a girl, he kept thinking, for no reason.
TK sounded different than he did when Nolan was having sex with him. More annoying, stupid little muffled groans and grunts, and quieter. The girl was quiet, too, but she said Travis when she came, which pissed Nolan off.
Their room smelled, and the girl spent the night, and Nolan just laid awake until the five, sun not even up, sky just slightly grey, and then he jumped down from his bunk and didn’t even glance at Travis’ bed and went for a run.
He thought it then, mile three, and then made himself push it way back down and not think about it again: that he didn’t know exactly where the line between fuckbuddies and dating was, but he was pretty sure he was on the wrong side of it. //
TK’s tongue on his ass makes Nolan feel like he fell off a cliff.
TK’s the same as always. Fucking careful and good and attentive and doing so many things at once.
One hand is soothing up and down the back of Nolan’s thigh where it’s slung over TK’s shoulder, rubbing the thick hair there against the grain, then with; making Nolan’s whole leg feel staticky and raw.
His other hand is wrapped around the base of Nolan’s dick, just holding him there, not moving.
His tongue is just--just really fucking making Nolan really get, really feel, what it means to be eaten out.
Nolan’s whole face is flushed, and he can’t really think about what TK’s doing or he’ll just--he’ll have to tell TK to stop or something. He whines, and TK soothes his thigh again, then pulls back for a second, his voice wet and rough, his accent thick. “Ya okay?”
Nolan is so fucking far from okay.
I like you, he thinks at TK. I don’t want to just hook up with you. He slips a hand into TK’s hair and presses his fingertips tight against TK’s head, like he can put the thought there; make Travis get it. I might be fucking in love with you.
TK ducks back down, and presses his tongue back into Nolan, where no one’s fucking mouth has even ever been near him before.
“Fuck,” he says. “Fuck, Trav.”
TK just keeps fucking his tongue into him, getting spit everywhere, pulling out and tracking the tip of his tongue over Nolan's rim.
Nolan holds TK's hair, and blinks at the ceiling, and tries to breathe. Tries to not go crazy with how hard he is, how he's got nothing on his dick except TK's fingers at the base.
Nolan should see it coming--he feels bad that he doesn't notice TK getting close and ask TK to crawl over his face so he can fuck Nolan’s mouth while he keeps eating him out or something, but he's just gone, lying under TK, limp, heavy weight of his leg on TK’s shoulder, heel pushing into TK’s back, just fucking feeling, and then all the sudden TK makes his little “hhhhhn” orgasm noise right into Nolan’s ass, and the bed jerks and squeaks as TK's hips thrust into it.
TK stills his mouth but keeps it right there, and pants.
“Whoa,” Nolan says, and if TK wasn’t still kind of squeezing the base of his cock, he’d maybe come too.
“Sorry,” TK says, maybe as out of breath as Nolan’s ever heard him after sex. “I can keep going,” he pants into Nolan’s thigh, sounding just fucking exhausted. “Just give me a sec.”
“No, buddy,” Nolan says, sounding so soft TK has to fucking hear it. “Just--stay there. You’re good. Here, let me--” he slips his fingers against TK’s, kind of holding hands over his dick for a second before TK lets go and lets Nolan take over.
Nolan jerks himself off, staring down at TK’s face resting on his thigh, eyes intense and so beautiful--brown, right now, because of the dark and the warm color of TK’s bare skin--and staring up at Nolan the whole fucking time until Nolan can’t look at him anymore, has to throw his head back and whimper, not trying to be quiet because TK’s heard all of his noises anyways.
Nolan’s hand’s fast and rough on his dick. TK’s tongue reaches out to draw a wet line on his balls.
// It’s easy to track the first time they kissed and the first time they fucked and the first time Nolan tried to go on a date with Travis, but it’s not really easy to pinpoint when Nolan started to feel things.
Maybe after Nolan’s first time bottoming, when he’d felt so fucking vulnerable and uneven and TK had laid down next to him and slung a leg over his hips and nuzzled at his arm until Nolan had given in and rolled over to let TK rest his head on his bicep; to accept the comfort TK was offering him.
Maybe when TK checked on Nolan’s stupid Christmas tree tat for a week after he gave it to him, talking Nolan into taking his pants off and then leaning down to inspect his tattoo and smear lotion on it, two fingers swiping fast and slick over the crease of Nolan’s thigh.
Maybe over winter break this year, when Nolan had gone home to Winnipeg and TK had gone home to Clachan, and Nolan had spent the whole two weeks lying around with his family’s dog on his stomach, staring at the ceiling and letting his mind have whatever weird thoughts it wanted--TK catching him fish, TK coming up here and hanging out with Nolan’s family, him and TK finding jobs in the same city after graduation and rooming together again--and every time he made himself so homesick for TK that he had to call him, TK answered. //
I shouldn’t have closed my eyes, Nolan thinks, before he’s even really done coming. I should have kept looking at him. What if I never get to look at him while I come again?
TK crawls up his body, bottom lip dragging through the cum on Nolan’s abs, tongue licking out to clean it up.
Nolan feels unsteady. He's shitty about not doing stuff that’s bad for him, sometimes, so he closes his eyes again and rolls onto his side, away from TK, and immediately gets TK’s body curling up behind him, spooning him.
They cuddle for a minute while Nolan comes down, and Nolan tries to burn the way TK’s hand on his chest feels into his brain. Tries to memorize the exact way he smells--not just like his deodorant or his soap, because they use the same kinds, but like Teeks.
They both move, eventually. Clean themselves up and strip Law’s sheets and shove them into his laundry basket.
They stare at it for a second, TK looking guilty and Nolan feeling like shit, but not because of the sheets
TK says, “Uh, I’ll buy him lunch sometime,” and they leave.
Wandering through the party, sobered up and feeling bare and moody, is weird. Tons of couples, talking and making out and dancing with each other; tons of lights; fast music.
Nolan walks behind Travis, eyes on the slick way the muscles of his back move under his t-shirt.
It feels good to get outside. It’s Spring, and everything smells fresh and wet, and it’s chilly and dark out in a way Nolan's always loved. He wants to listen to music, or, like, something.
He wants Travis to turn around and look at him and talk to him, instead of just speed walking ahead.
Maybe that was too much, he thinks. Maybe I was too much.
TK pauses at a street, waiting for a car down the block to pass, and Nolan catches up to him but stays a step behind.
He thinks about how TK was the first one to fuck him and the first one to rim him, and how he was TK’s first gay everything, so even if he doesn’t get everything else, he has that.
The car passes, soft whish of tires on the road, and TK turns around to look at Nolan in the red glow of taillights.
“Uh, do you--” His eyes are colorless, just dark, frowning and focused on Nolan’s chest. “Sorry if this is weird, but. Do you think that, was, like, normal fuckbuddies shit?”
Nolan’s whole body--his head and lungs and every one of his muscles--gets still. He has to struggle to finish pulling in the breath he’s in the middle of.
He braces himself. “Not really.”
TK’s eyes widen a little, and then jerk up to meet Nolan’s.
“Yeah?” he asks.
Nolan nods automatically, opening his mouth and then not knowing how to say anything and just staring at TK, looking stupid, feeling--wound up and scared and like he could fuck this up so easily.
TK takes a step closer. “I don’t really know why we’re fuckbuddies anyways,” he says, sounding careful, like he’s picking his words instead of just letting them spill out like he usually does. “Like, I don’t know why I asked you to fuck instead of just asking you out.”
“Are you being serious,” Nolan asks, voice coming out raw. “Cause, I’m, like-- I don’t wanna joke about this.”
It’s as much as he can figure out how to say.
“Yeah,” TK says, sounding a little shaky. “So--I don’t know, would you want to go out with me?" He takes a breath, and talks even faster. "Like, now, and then maybe we could keep doing it after graduation, too?”
“Fuck,” Nolan breathes, "obviously," stepping forward and wrapping his arms around TK’s back, pulling him in hard and burying his face in TK’s hair. TK’s hands come up to Nolan’s ribs, and he laughs, curve of his smile pressed into Nolan’s throat.
He laughs again, louder, and then slowly pulls back from Nolan, “‘Obviously,’” he says, in the low voice he always uses to make fun of Nolan. “Patty, dude, you’re the least obvious person, like--”
Nolan will--argue with him about that later. He grabs TK’s face, and kisses him.
// Nolan came to college not knowing what he wanted to do, or how to make friends with people, or how he was supposed to share a room with some guy he'd probably hate.
TK told him, "Dude, you know there's, like, classes about that," week two of their first semester, when Nolan was complaining that he wished he could have a job that was just hunting and fishing all the time.
It took four days of knowing him for Nolan to decide that TK was, like, the best friend he’d ever had--someone he could just be around and not think about being around. Someone that made him feel relaxed the same way being alone did, but better.
The first day they met, when they’d moved their stuff into their dorm and said goodbye to their parents, when TK had looked at him, backwards hat and crooked smile and eyes Nolan thought were just green, and said, "don't say sorry," all Canadian, Nolan had thought, “I’m glad I got this guy.” //