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King Of The Clouds

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Usually, Lukas tended to have a pretty tame Halloween. 


He was slightly embarrassed to admit that the wildest he’d ever gotten before was stealing a bottle of whiskey from his parents at the yearly Ocelot sleepover back in the tenth grade. After all, he’d been painfully shy and anxious as a kid, and he hadn’t really been on board with stealing alcohol in the first place. 


Now, Lukas had no idea how everything had happened, but now he was at a friend of a friend’s house party, stumbling up to do a keg stand, drunk off his ass and laughing wildly. 


So far, Jesse had disappeared off somewhere, and that was annoying because Jesse was super hot. 


Well, that was all Lukas could remember, he thought deliriously. 


Then Petra and some guy he’d never met were grabbing him by the legs and hoisting him up into the air while he held onto the top of the keg, and somebody shoved the tap in his mouth and turned it on, which kind of stopped his ability to think straight. 


“One! Two! Three! Four! Five! Six!”


Lukas quickly lost track of how long he was upside down, but suddenly he choked on the beer and spat out the tap right before he threw up. 


Wild, drunken cheers went up. 


Petra, who was just as drunk as he was, burst out laughing. 


“Uuuuugggh,” Lukas groaned.


He felt like his stomach was trying to turn itself inside out as he retched again. 


Then he saw him. 


Laying across the couch with a dopey, drunken grin on his face, a cup in one hand, the cat ears he’d put on sitting askew on his head. 


Oh, fuck. 


Lukas didn’t know if it was the alcohol talking or was Jesse really that sexy?


He didn’t know. 


But he didn’t care because damn, the way Jesse’s sweat-damp shirt clung to him and how the lights were reflecting off his brown skin and the gorgeous curve of his jaw and oh god his arms and his hands and his mouth—


Lukas stumbled to his feet and staggered over to the couch, wobbling and giggling drunkenly before freezing at the sight of how Jesse’s shirt was unbuttoned just enough to expose the top of his chest and holy hell, Lukas was so fucking turned on by it. 


“Heeeeeey,” Jesse slurred, catching sight of him. “You’re sexy.”


Lukas smirked. 


Oh, he had an idea. A really stupid idea, but a fun idea. What could go wrong?


So he knelt on the couch, propping himself over Jesse with a hand on the cushions, leaned up close to him, and nipped his earlobe. 


He heard Jesse gasp. 


“I’m going to the bathroom,” Lukas muttered, hoping that Jesse would know exactly what he meant by that. 


Then he stumbled off, and by the time he made it to the bathroom (which was thankfully unoccupied), he’d almost thrown up twice more. Fortunately he didn’t throw up again when he leaned unsteadily against the wall, listening to the muffled but still loud thumping of the speakers. 


God, he wanted to put his hands on Jesse so bad. 


He wanted to put his hands in so many inappropriate places, touch him until Jesse was begging and pleading and screaming for more. 


Lukas groaned faintly and palmed himself through his jeans. 


Then he heard someone trying to open the door, and he yelped, accidentally banging his wrist against the sink countertop and hissing in pain. 


Then he tripped over his own feet and knocked over the towel rack just as Jesse managed to open the door.


“Shit,” Lukas blurted. 


Jesse grinned, quickly slamming the door shut behind him. 


And then Lukas was back on his feet and Jesse was sitting on the counter with both legs wrapped around his waist, his shirt completely unbuttoned, his hands wandering under Lukas’s shirt and sliding up his chest, the two of them frantically licking into each other’s mouths like the world was going to end. 


Lukas groaned into the curve of Jesse’s neck and bit down hard. 


Jesse squirmed and yelped. 


“I want,” Lukas growled, bracing Jesse’s body against the mirror, “To fuck you in here. God, you’re so fucking hot.”


Jesse let out a weak groan. 




Lukas shuddered gleefully at the desperation in his voice. 


Even with his mind thoroughly soaked with alcohol, he was sane enough to know that a) this was new, and b) he definitely liked it. 


He wondered what other noises he could get Jesse to make. 


So he reached up and tugged Jesse’s head back by his hair and started licking and sucking hard on Jesse’s neck and collar and shoulders, leaving all sorts of bite marks and bruises in his wake. 


Jesse actually cried out, clawing at his shoulder blades, grinding his hips against Lukas with vehemence. 


Lukas gasped, stifling a moan.  


“Pants off,” he huffed, sinking to his knees in front of Jesse and placing light, teasing kisses all over his stomach. 


Jesse quickly yanked his pants down to his knees, and Lukas got a good look at his flushed face and dark, lidded eyes and smug expression.


Lukas glanced down. 


Jesse hadn’t taken his boxers off. 


“Gonna make me work for it?” Lukas purred, nipping Jesse’s inner thigh. 


“‘Course I am,” Jesse taunted, running his fingers through Lukas’s hair. “Better get at it before I get bored.”


“Brat,” Lukas muttered. 


And before Jesse could reply, he mouthed the sizable bulge in Jesse’s underwear, listening to how his words cut off in a startled choking sound. 


“Oh,” Jesse groaned. “Fuck. Yes. Yeah, fuck yeah. Please.”


Lukas hummed cheerfully, sucking at the thin layer of fabric separating them and soaking it with saliva, feeling Jesse twitching and moaning with every subtle movement of his tongue. 


Then he leaned up and tugged on the waistband of Jesse’s underwear with his teeth, which elicited a startled gasp. 


Jesse quickly fumbled with his underwear and pulled it down. 


Lukas grinned and leaned back down, taking a brief moment to admire the view before moving in and taking Jesse in his mouth. Sure, he had had no plans for this at all when Petra had dragged him here, but things tended to… well, happen when you were drunk off your ass at a house party and pining for your friend who’s apparently not as straight as you thought he was. 


More than anything he wanted to take Jesse home to a bed or a couch so he could fuck him properly.


Lukas grimaced as Jesse dragged him forward by his hair, but he decided to take that as a challenge and kept going, swallowing him down hungrily. 


He’d never had much of a gag reflex (yeah, Petra teased him). It tended to be annoying because Lukas couldn’t count the amount of times he’d accidentally inhaled a ramen noodle, but at least it came in handy here, he thought, feeling Jesse lurch above him.


Lukas swallowed thickly around him as he felt Jesse’s dick hit the back of his throat, fingernails raking across his scalp. 


“Lukas,” Jesse moaned brokenly. 


Lukas glanced up and was rewarded by the wonderful sight of Jesse slumped against the mirror; his eyes shut in a lazy, blissed-out grin; face flushed and tangled hair and lips swollen from being kissed and bitten; his scarred, muscular chest heaving; neck covered in hickeys and bite marks. 


Mine, Lukas thought, his alcohol and pleasure-ridden brain too addled to come up with anything else. 


“Fuck,” Jesse gasped. “Fuckfuckfuck, I’m close, I’m really close.”


Lukas growled in response, tightening his grip on Jesse’s hips, his nails digging into his soft skin, leaving behind more little bruises and marks. 


Jesse’s brow furrowed and then he came, letting out a loud, shuddering moan and bucking his hips forward. 


Lukas swallowed quickly, making sure to catch everything, licking him delicately until Jesse was flinching away from overstimulation. 


He rested his head on Jesse’s thigh, sighing contentedly. 


“We should clean up,” Jesse panted, giving him a loopy grin. “C’mon, Blondie, off my lap. Up.”


“Donwanna,” Lukas whined. 


Jesse had comfortable thighs. Yeah, that was a weird thing to say, but it was a fact, and Lukas was tired. 


“Wow, you’re drunk,” Jesse remarked. 


“No,” Lukas giggled as Jesse shifted him away and pulled his pants up and buttoned his shirt back up. 


Wow, Jesse was so hot. Had he told him that already? 


Lukas couldn’t remember. 


He was tired, though. 


Maybe a nap was in order, he thought to himself, sliding down a slippery drunken slope into blissful unconsciousness.