vera

And to drink more. You really should’ve gotten more alcohol in your system when you had the chance. At least then you might not care so much.

The bottle slowed, then teetered to a stop. On the other end, sat a very unconscious and unaware Ben.

He was slumped on the couch next to Jeff, his head tipped all the way back against the cushions, completely oblivious to the compromising position he had just ended up in. 

“Dude,” Jeff poked at him with the butt of the vodka bottle in his hand, knocking his legs to the side. When that didn’t work, Jeff rapped the bottle against Ben’s head hard enough to hear a thunk.

Ben jostled upright, rubbing at his temple as he glared at Jeff. “Fucking what?” He punctuated the -t sound at the end.

Then he noticed everyone staring at him, looking from face to face. His eyes dropped to the bottle on the table and confirmed exactly what he looked like he suspected. He looked up at you, blinking at you a couple of times as if he was processing it.

Then he dropped his head back onto the cushion, “Nah.”

You scoffed, a little wounded. “Nah?”

Ben didn’t even give you the courtesy of sitting up as he slung his arm around Jeff’s shoulders, tugging the dark-haired boy closer. He made exaggerated kissy noises against Jeff’s cheek, grinning as the other shoved at him.

“Nah. Cause if I wanted to get my dick wet, I’d know who to ask.”

Jeff barked out a laugh and shoved at Ben’s face, but he was grinning too. This spurred on some sort of wrestling match as Nina took the opportunity to steal Jeff’s vodka out of his hand, cringing as she watched them, “I don’t think they’re kidding, either.”

Ben eventually got shoved clean off the couch, landing on his back on the floor. He kicked at Jeff’s shins in retaliation, but Jeff was too busy realizing his vodka bottle had mysteriously disappeared, and somebody was taking drinks from it.

“Hey—who the fuck—” Jeff snatched it back from Nina, who was giggling behind her hand. Ben took back to closing his eyes and laying his head back on the floor, content to not acknowledge you as you glared at him.

Jeff lightly kicked at the side of Ben’s head next to his shoe as he took a swig of his vodka, then he made a ‘mmh’ noise like he’d realized something, before looking down at the blond. “Wonder if you could hotbox the closet.”

One second Ben was sprawled on the ground. In a blur, he was on his feet, snatching his translucent green bong off the coffee table with one hand and grabbing your arm with the other.

“Let’s go,” he pulled you up.

You squirmed, trying to dig your heels in. “Ben, wait—I didn’t even—”

But no one was paying attention. The group had already moved on, shuffling cards and arguing over who got to deal next while they waited for their turn. All you got as you looked back was a sly wave from Jeff. Ben tugged you down the hallway insistently. You opened your mouth to argue again when Nina’s voice rang out behind you.

“Turn on the music!”

Ben waved his hand without even looking back. The stereo in the living room suddenly blasted to life, the volume cranked way up and pumping through the floorboards. People shouted thanks as their conversations became drowned out.

Ben reached the closet door at the end of the hall and let go of your arm to open the door. You were met with the dark entrance and what appeared to be zero breathing room, and Ben pointed inside.

“Up and at ‘em. We don’t got all night.”

“Ben, you’re a serious ass, you know tha—” Your sentence is cut by Ben’s hand flying up into your face, his fingers positioned into a little sock puppet mouth pose as he mocked the words that came from your mouth sarcastically. 

“Don’t be a buzzkill,” he deadpanned.

You glared at him, crossing your arms, then turning to walk inside the closet without another word. He stepped in behind you, the two of you siding to opposite walls to face each other, but realizing just how little space there was when your shoes touched his. Ben kicked at you to move, but with all the boxes and hanging clothes around you, it was impossible not to be stepping on top of the other. When the door pulled shut, the darkness was really the cherry on top to the whole situation.

Save for the thin line of light leaking in from under the door, it was pitch black in here. The air grew warmer almost immediately as you stood in there, heavy with the dense, earthy smell of weed that always clung to the blond like a second skin.

You shifted your weight, “You gonna turn on the light?”

He didn’t answer.

You pushed, getting nervous, “Ben?”

A little chuckle came from the darkness right in front of you.

“Kinda moody in here, huh?”

You scoffed and kicked lightly at his shin. He laughed the tension from you and suddenly the bulb overhead flared on without anyone touching the chain. Soft yellow light flooded the dark space.

Ben was standing close. Closer than you expected him to be.

His blond hair was a complete mess of strands falling into his eyes and layers sticking up. The pointed tips of his ears poked out through the mess, flinching at nothing. His eyes stood out the most amongst his lightwashed palette. His black scleras encased these gleaming red irises, seemingly radiating amongst the inkly color. He was wearing an old graphic tee that had seen better days and a pair of baggy jeans held up by a chunky belt that seemed like it belonged on someone twice his size.

But what really held your attention were his tears.

They were always there as far as you knew, those dark streaks running down his pale cheeks. Up close, you could see how they slowly dissolved into the air right around his jawline, fading like they were dissolving. Fresh ones kept forming at the corners of his eyes, sliding down his skin before they too fizzled out into nothing and started again.

But for a boy who was always crying, you didn’t feel very bad, considering he always found a way to pester your sentimentality away.

“Take a picture or something.”

You snapped out of it, “What?”

“You’re staring.”

Ben began packing the bowl for the bong, pressing his back against the wall and sliding down until he was sitting on the floor. You followed, awkwardly avoiding his limbs as you settled across from him and became packed in by the boxes and junk. He would randomly ask you to hold something—the bowl, the bong itself, a small bag of weed—but otherwise stayed quiet, focused on what he was doing. You took the opportunity to explore the boxes on the floor around you. Most of it was junk like old magazines, tangled string lights, and dusty clothes. But you dug deeper into one box and lit up.

“Oh my god, it’s a Game Boy!” you exclaimed, pulling the little purple device out triumphantly.

Ben raised an eyebrow. “That’s probably been in here for years. Bet it’s dead.”

You groaned, pressing the power button anyway. Nothing happened. “Of course.”

Ben held his hand out. You passed it over, thinking maybe he would chuck it away, but he pressed the power button and the screen flickered to life with it’s little electronic chime.

He handed it back with a smug little grin. “You’re welcome.”

You took it eagerly and immediately started playing Tetris, the familiar music crackling through the old speakers. Ben finished packing the bowl, fishing in his pockets for his lighter as he leaned forward to look over your screen.

“You’re gonna die,” he said flatly when you tried to force a line.

“Shut up, I’ve got this,” you pushed back, laughing when the blocks stacked up anyway.

Ben lit the bowl and took a couple of hits to get it started, holding his breath in before exhaling a thick cloud of smoke toward the ceiling. The sweet smell of weed quickly filled the air, mixing with the dust and old coats to give you a sensory overloaded experience.

He held it out to you. “Your turn, loser.”

You shook your head, too focused on the little screen. “I’m playing my game.”

You were so close to clearing the level, but just before passing, the blocks suddenly pixelated out of the border, and the whole board filled up instantly. GAME OVER popped across the screen as the power to the toy cut off.

You let out an exasperated groan and tossed the Game Boy back into the box it came from. “I don’t want any. I’ve never even used one of those anyway, I wouldn’t know what to do.”

Ben scoffed from where he was sitting, going to light the bowl again. “Figures.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “What does that mean?”

He took a long hit, the water bubbling loudly as smoke filled the chamber. He held it for a second, then exhaled a thick cloud toward your face before shrugging, smoke filtering from his lips as he spoke.

“There’s no way you’ve made it this far in life and haven’t hit a bong. That’s such lame-ass behavior.”

You scoffed right back and kicked at his leg. “I’ll probably get a contact high just from being in here with you, asshole.”

Ben rolled his eyes and shoved the bong into your hands anyway. “Shut your yapping and listen to me.”

You stared at the glass piece like it might bite you. Ben leaned over and started rummaging through the junk around you. He pulled out a couple of old shirts and towels, then turned and started stuffing them tightly under the crack of the closet door, sealing it as best he could.

Ben was satisfied with his little setup. He turned back to face you and gripped the neck of the bong. He adjusted it in your hands, showing you how to hold it properly, then pressed the mouthpiece against your lips.

“Alright, listen,” he said, surprisingly non-sarcastically. “When I light it, you’re gonna inhale. It burns a little more than normal weed, so take it easy at first. Don’t try to be a hero or anything.”

You’d never seen Ben this attentive with something before. It made you laugh a little under your breath.

He immediately got defensive, shoving at your shoulder. “What? Shut up.”

“Sorry, sorry,” you smiled. “Alright. I’m ready.”

You pressed your lips to the rim. Ben sparked the lighter and held it to the bowl, angling the neck for you. The second smoke clouded the chamber, you inhaled.

It hit a lot harder than you realized it would.

The smoke burned with this heaviness that cigarettes don’t have. You tried to hold it like you’d seen others do, but your throat closed up fast and you got choked. You only managed a tiny breath before pulling back, coughing in fits as smoke sputtered out of your mouth in puffs. You pushed the bong away from your face, your eyes already watering.

Ben busted out laughing, falling back against the wall. “That was so shit.”

You swatted at him between coughs, “Shut up—it burns—”

“You have to go again. That barely counted.”

You waved him off, trying to catch your breath. “Give me a second. Jesus Christ…”

You had barely gotten any and your head was already swimmy. Your throat burned. You weren’t sure if this was supposed to be fun, but half the mansion seemed obsessed with getting high on the roof most nights. You wanted to understand why.

So you took the bong back from him.

Ben leaned back forward and sparked up the lighter again. “Take it slower this time. Don’t suck it like a vacuum, just take a deep breath.”

You pressed your lips to the mouthpiece again. Ben lit the bowl, and you inhaled a bit slower this time, trying to let the smoke fill your lungs without choking on it. It still burned, but you managed to hold it longer. When you finally pulled away, you coughed again, but not as violently. Smoke curled out of your mouth as you handed the bong back to Ben, coughing only in small gasps now.

He just grinned at you as he sat the bong next to him. “Atta girl.”

You leaned your head back against the wall and took a few deep breaths, trying to settle yourself as you stared to the ceiling. Dust mites floated in the space overhead, swimming in the light and the smoke that now floated through the space. You feel hazy, like everything has begun to feel pressurized and dazed, like you were looking at the world through a thick sheet of film. You hadn’t noticed it before, but the constant thump of the music from the living room vibrated up through the floorboards and into your legs, vibrating the rest of your body along with it.

You were jarred from your state by the feeling of something tugging at your shoe. You looked down to see Ben absently playing with the laces of your shoe, twisting them around his finger and playing with the strings.

He shoved your leg away when you began to giggle a bit.

“How do you feel?” he hummed.

“Weird.”

Ben nodded, “Yeah.” Then, after a beat, “Just wait until you start feeling the bugs under your skin.”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

He held the serious expression for half a second before cracking into a grin, “I’m kidding.”

You shivered anyway, but the laugh bubbled out of you before you could stop it. It felt ridiculous, the kind of laugh that made your shoulders shake even though nothing was really even that funny. Ben’s laugh mixed with yours until you were both giggling.

Ben suddenly sat up a little straighter, like a thought had just hit him. “Oh shit, wait— here, look at this.”

He leaned forward and dug into his back pocket, pulling out his very cracked phone. The screen was covered in tiny fractures, but it still lit up when he tapped it. You watched curiously as he swiped through a few things, then clicked on a video and turned the phone toward you, placing it carefully in your hands.

You immediately narrowed your eyes. “If you’re about to show me porn, I’ll kill you.”

Ben just laughed and put his hand on top of your head, angling your face down toward the screen. “Shhh. Just watch.”

It was one of those weird trippy videos that had a colorful illusion flowing across the screen, everything really vibrant and clear in an uncanny way. At first you laughed, saying, “These are so stupid,” but the longer you stared, the harder it became to look away. It felt strange… like the swirling shapes and shifting grids held all of your attention.

Ben smiled, clearly satisfied. “Yeah, I know that’s right.”

He went back to absently playing with the laces of your shoe, twisting and untwisting them as you watched his phone.

Without you even touching the screen, the video started scrolling on its own, showcasing new patterns and swirling colors fading in every few seconds. You watched, mesmerized, as the shapes twisted and folded into themselves before scrolling to another video.

You didn’t look up from the phone when you said, “It’s so stupid that you can just do that.”

Ben sighed, “Perks of being me, y'know."

You laughed when the videos scrolled onto Minecraft parkour runs instead.

“It must be so easy,” you mumbled, “just turning on and using whatever you want without using your hands.”

Ben hummed in agreement, clearly amused at your interest in him. You couldn’t help but blurt out, “And getting blackmail on everyone.”

He laughed outright at that. He let his arm rest across your shins, “You have no idea.”

The screen changed again. This time it wasn’t a video—it was his photos. The image that popped up was of a skinny little pale boy with messy brown hair, missing a couple teeth, and grinning bigtime for a school photo. It just looked to be a ratty little kid.

You stared, trying to place him. “Who is that?”

Ben smiled, “Jeff.”

You looked back down at the photo, then up at Ben again. A surprised laugh barked out of you before you could stop it.

“No way,” you grinned. “That’s Jeff? He looks so… little.”

“His mugshots aren’t much better either.”

Ben reaches for his phone and pockets it before reaching down for the bong again. He lit it, took a hit, and passed it over to you like before.

You managed it on your own this time, though Ben still held the lighter for you, how courteous. Smoke plumed out and joined the cloud overhead. You wondered how long you’d actually been in here? Two minutes? Two hours? Time felt slippery now, hard to pin down. But you were starting to understand the appeal. Everything felt softer, a lot slower.

You passed the bong back and asked, “What do you even do when you’re high?”

Ben thought about it for a second, his hand falling back to rest on your shins and rubbing absently along your pant leg. He clearly didn’t think about it too hard, though.

“Jerk off,” he said plainly.

Your face heated at your cheeks. You rolled your eyes and kicked at him. “Be serious.”

He rolled his eyes back at you. “I’m not lying. Nothing feels better than getting high as fuck and jerking your shit. Lol.” He said “lol” part out loud at the end, which made you cringe so hard you thought you might die.

Then he gave you a real answer, “Eat. Play Siege. Go for walks…” 

At that, he seemed to think of something, then patted your leg eagerly. “Do you want to go somewhere?”

You looked at him before glancing toward the door. “But… we’re playing the game.”

Ben waved that off. “Nah. I got lumped into this. I’m not even really playing, I just did it cause it was you.”

You tensed a little. “Where? Won’t the others get worried?”

He was already starting to stand, pushing his messy blond hair out of his face as he picked up the bong too. “Just come on.”

You pushed yourself up to stand with him, surprised by how airy your body felt, like your limbs were a little lighter than usual, a gentle swimmy sensation rolling through you as you rose into the thick cloud of smoke that was previously hovering over your head. 

Ben gripped the door handle, cracking it open just a sliver to peek into the hallway first. Then he reached back, his hand sliding snugly around yours as he opened the door the rest of the way and stepped out.

You couldn’t help but laugh as the smoke poured out, drifting lazily down the hall out ahead of you. The cool air from the hallway hit your skin and you sighed, relieved by the fresh rush against your flushed cheeks. Ben kept a hold on your hand, guiding you through the halls and around corners, dodging a couple lingering around in empty rooms as he dropped his bong on the hallway table and pushed out the back.

You eventually pushed through the back door and stepped out onto the deck. The night air was crisp and clean, a welcome contrast to the smoky warmth of the house. You climbed down the stairs after him, stepping out into the yard.

“Where are we going?” you asked again.

Ben glanced back at you. “Somewhere nicer.”

You didn’t argue. Instead, you just absently held his hand as he pulled you across the backyard toward the treeline. The grass was cool and damp under your shoes. He led you down a narrow path you didn’t recognize, the trees closing in around you until the lights and noise of the mansion faded into the distance behind you, replaced by the rustle of leaves and the occasional hoot of an owl somewhere far off.

You glanced over at him. Ben’s dark eyes were half-lidded now as he walked the path, he looked sleepy, and it made you giggle.

Ben glared at you playfully. “Hush.”

“Your eyes look funny,” you smiled.

He grinned down at you lazily, “Yours look pretty funny too. Geeked as hell.”

As you kept walking, the moonlight grew more and more filtered by the canopy overhead until the darkness felt more dense than back at the house. In the little moonlight, Ben’s red irises seemed to glow against the black of his pupils, like two small embers smoldering in the night. You found yourself getting lost in them, staring a little too long, until your foot caught on a root and you stumbled forward.

Ben’s hand tightened around yours, pulling you upright before you could fall.

“Careful,” he teased, “don’t fall on your ass.”

You shoved at his shoulder. “Worry about your own ass.”

Then he slowed to a stop. “We’re here.”

You looked forward and felt your breath leave you.

The trees opened up into a small quarry, the ground dropping into a clear swimming hole. Moonlight spilled across the water’s surface, sparkling like scattered diamonds as it rippled and sloshed against the bank. The whole place felt like a dream, the air carrying the scent of pine and wet river stones.

“Wow…” you whispered, stepping out from the treeline and onto the rocky bank. The view was beautiful, peaceful in a way the rest of tonight wasn’t.

“Not bad, right?”

You tilted your head to him. “How did you even find this place?”

“Followed EJ out here one night ‘cause I was bored. He comes out here sometimes really late. I liked it, so now I sneak out when everyone’s being annoying.”

You smiled at him, unable to resist teasing him. “Wow. He does feel.”

Ben rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless.

You turned back toward the water, letting the cool night air wash over your skin. It felt good after the density in the mansion. The soft lap of the water was enough to drown everything else out.

Before you heard shuffling behind you. 

You felt as Ben walked up behind you, his presence radiating. He was close. You froze as you felt his arms slide around your waist from behind, pulling you gently back against his chest. He rested his chin on your shoulder, his warm breath brushing your neck and sending goosebumps lining your skin.

“Ben?” you sounded as confused as you felt.

He hummed softly, “It’s nice tonight.”

Your heart hammered in your chest. You stood there stiffly, staring out at the water, half-convinced this was some kind of sick joke. But your cheeks burned so bad you might’ve hoped it wasn’t.

“The water sure is pretty, huh?” he murmured.

You nodded, still trying to figure out what was happening.

“Wanna get a closer look?”

Then, you felt his hands slide from around your waist, and a hard shove on your back.

You stumbled forward with a startled yelp, your arms windmilling out in front of you as you lost your balance. The bank dropped off sharply, and you plunged into the cold water below with a loud splash. It was only waist-deep, but the cold shock still knocked the breath out of you. You came up sputtering, your hair plastered to your face and your clothes hanging wetly off your body.

You whipped around, coughing and gawking up at the bank.

Ben stood there wide-eyed and bushy tailed.

“You—you asshole!” you choked out, wiping water from your eyes.

“You should see your face right now.”

Ben dug into his pocket, pulled out his cracked phone, and snapped a quick photo of you standing there dripping wet. The flash lit up the quarry for a split second, as well as your irritated face.

He just tossed his phone onto the grass and reached back to tug his shirt over his head. Your mouth went a little dry at the sight of his lean, pale torso standing against the moonlight, the subtle lines of muscle shifting as he moved. He unclasped his belt and slid it from loops, then shoved his jeans and shoes off, leaving him in just his green boxers—which made you scoff. Without another word, he took a running start off the bank and dove into the deeper water.

The splash sprayed onto you. You braced your arms up, but still got soaked all over again. When the water settled, Ben popped back up, shaking his head like a dog. His blond hair was dark and flat against his skull for a second before he ran both hands through it, messing it back up into a dripping frizz.

You waded towards the dock. “You’re insane.”

Ben sighed dramatically, already treading out toward the deeper part of the swimming hole. “Relax. It’s just water.”

You climbed back up onto the bank, irritated but also weirdly energized by the need to pester the blond back. You kicked off your sopping shoes. Two could play this game.

You started peeling off your wet jeans, the denim clinging stubbornly to your legs before you finally yanked them off. Then you grabbed the hem of your soaked shirt and pulled it up and over your head, tossing both garments onto the grass with a wet plop. You were left in just your bra and panties, the night air raising goosebumps across your skin.

Ben had gone quiet.

You glanced over as you stepped back toward the water. He was watching you the entire time. His face had disappeared under the surface, only his eyes floating above the surface as he watched you move into the shallows, staring at you like he was trying to commit the sight to memory.

You waded out toward the deeper part, the cold water rising up your thighs, then your waist. The stones and moss felt slick under your feet. Your high made all the textures and temperature of the water elevated, all your senses alight with different sensations and feelings that couldn’t be described as anything other than good.

When you finally waded out to where he was, your feet barely touched the bottom, forcing you to tread water to stay afloat. Ben didn’t say anything at first. He just watched you approach. When you got close enough, he rose a little higher out of the water, blinking at you with those pretty glowing red eyes.

His gaze shot down to your chest for half a second before snapping back up to your face. The moonlight shone softly over both of you, catching in the droplets on your skin and making everything look a little unreal, a little dreamlike.

You tilted your head, smiling a little. “What’s the matter?”

Ben huffed, looking away toward the trees. “You’re a tease.”

You didn’t believe him for a second. You reached out, letting your fingers trace lightly down his chest, smearing the water across his pale skin. His muscles twitched under your touch like it shocked him. Ben stayed quiet, but you could see the way his jaw tightened.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, you splashed the biggest wave of water you could right into his face.

Ben sputtered, wiping at his eyes as you burst out laughing, clutching your stomach so hard you almost went under.

“You were so shy!” you teased. “Look at you—”

He didn’t even let you finish. Ben splashed a wave right back at you, drenching your face and hair. You squealed, laughing harder as the cold water hit you, and the fight was on.

The two of you went back and forth, splashing and dodging like kids, the quarry echoing with your laughter and his playful curses. Every time you thought you had the upper hand, Ben would lunge forward and send a huge splash your way, grinning like an idiot the whole time. Water flew everywhere, catching the moonlight in bright arcs as you both tried to outdo the other.

At one point you tried to swim away, but Ben caught your ankle and yanked you back, pulling you toward him until you were both laughing too hard to keep splashing at the other properly. You ended up pushing at his shoulders while he wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you from escaping.

“You started it,” he accused.

“You deserved it,” you shot back.

You registered where Ben’s hands were the moment they gripped your hips under the water, his palms warm against your skin as you tried to stabilize yourself in the deeper part. Ben noticed your struggle and pulled you closer to him.

“Wrap your legs around my hips,” he mumbled.

Your heart hammered as you did what he asked, hooking your legs around him. Ben’s hands slid down to support your thighs, holding you up effortlessly in the water. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders for balance, feeling the cool water lapping up around your bodies as you floated together.

“This is kinda hot,” the blond said, completely shameless.

You swatted at his shoulder. “You’re such a pervert.”

Ben shrugged. “It’s hard not to be when you’re around.”

You noticed then how the water mixed with the dark tears that always ran down his cheeks. They smeared into wet gray streaks across his pale skin. Without thinking, you reached up and wiped at them with your thumb, cleaning the streaks away before new dark tears reappeared.

Ben blinked at you, surprised, but made no move to say anything about it. His hands started roaming, sliding over your legs and hips, then slipping back toward your ass. You pinched his shoulder.

“Careful,” you warned, though your tone was soft.

Ben groaned at you, his fingers hooking into the hem of your panties at your waist and giving them a little tug.

“This isn’t fair,” he complained, knotting his brow.

You hummed. “Life isn’t fair.”

“Yeah, but you could be to me, you know.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? And what have you done to deserve my fairness?”

You traced a finger along his jaw as you said it. Ben’s expression shifted into a pout, his gaze dropping to your lips for a second before back up to your eyes.

“I’ll be nice,” he sounded almost sweetly.

You gawked at him, exasperated at that answer. “So you’ll only be nice when you want something? That’s what I'm hearing?”

Ben tugged you closer by the waist, bodies brushing under the water.

“Yeah,” he admitted, before pinching your hip in return. “But I know you like it when I’m mean.”

You saw his angle, watching as his eyes dipped down and he tried to lean in closer toward your lips.

You cut him off by pressing your hand over his mouth. Then you untangled your legs from around his hips, pushing away with a laugh. Ben let you go, but not without complaining. “Awh, c’mon. You know you want me.”

You waded toward the shallow bank, glancing over your shoulder at him with a grin. Once the water was only knee-deep, you stepped out onto the grass, the cool air chilling your wet skin. Your clothes were soaked through where you had dropped them, so you laid them out flat on the grass to dry.

Behind you, you heard Ben leaving the water too. Then came a low whistle.

You turned to see him staring shamelessly at your ass while you were bent over arranging your clothes. You straightened up and flipped him off, before treading over to a dry patch of grass and sitting down.

Ben followed, dropping down beside you. You both lay back, looking up at the moon and the scattered stars, letting the breeze slowly dry your skin. 

You broke the comfortable silence first.

“I guess we’ll have to wait until my clothes dry before we go back.”

Ben shifted beside you, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look down at you. A few droplets of water fell from his messy blond hair onto your shoulder. 

“I know a way we could pass the time.”

You shoved at his face, pushing him back down to the grass with a laugh. “You’re relentless.”

He chuckled but didn’t push it, settling back beside you again.

You stared up at the sky, your mind still a little swimmy and dense from the weed earlier. Your high had settled into a pleasant wave that made everything feel softer around the edges. You reached down and plucked at a few blades of grass, rolling them between your fingers.

The question slipped out before you could stop it.

“Why do you smoke so much?”

Ben was quiet for a long moment. You could hear the rustle of grass as he shifted beside you.

“I like the way it makes me feel,” he said eventually. “Like… it makes me feel real. Like not just a bunch of code crammed into a body. I guess.”

You turned your head to look at him. He was still staring up at the stars, red eyes reflecting the moonlight above. For once, you didn’t think he looked all that bratty.

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you just stayed silent, the two of you lying side by side under the night sky.

Until you felt a hand trace lightly along your waist, fingertips brushing your bare skin. You shivered a bit at the contact. You leaned up on your elbows, glaring at him. “Ben—”

“And it feels extra good when I do this when I’m high,” he gleamed.

You opened your mouth to question him, but you felt what he was talking about soon after.

It started prickly, like when your hand goes numb after sitting on it too long. Then it shifted into something else—a sort of staticky buzz, like the old TV static you used to get when you put your face too close to the screen, but a margin more intense. It followed wherever his fingers moved, crackling warmly across your skin.

“What is that?” You gasped.

“Dunno. Energy? I think? It just feels awesome when I’m jerking off.”

You watched, wide-eyed, as Ben’s hand rubbed slowly over your abdomen, then your waist, then down to your hips. The static sensation made your muscles twitch, a soft whine slipping out of your mouth before you could stop it.

“Feels nice, right?” he asked.

“It feels weird,” you managed, voice a little too breathy for your liking.

But he didn’t stop. His hand continued its path down your thighs, then back up to your ribs. Your breath caught sharply when his fingers brushed a particularly sensitive spot just under your chest, and Ben’s smile widened as he watched your face.

“Shut it,” you muttered, feeling your cheeks burning.

“Careful,” he teased, “or I might think you like it.”

His hand kept moving, inching ever so slowly toward the hem of your panties. His voice dropped quieter, almost to a murmur.

“Do you like it?”

It was hard to think straight with all the sensations buzzing across your skin, but you nodded, fingers gripping the blades of grass beneath you.

Ben’s hand inched further down. “What if I keep going?”

You finally looked at him, blinking up at his face as he leaned closer over you. You were so annoyed by him it was ridiculous—that lazy grin, those ember eyes, the way he always seemed to know exactly how to push your buttons. But maybe it was the weed, or the buzz in the air, or just how purely horny you were in this moment, because you nodded again.

Ben finally leaned in, tilting his head down to press his lips to yours. At the same time, his fingers pressed against you over your panties. Your legs immediately tried to snap shut, but he was already between them. You gasped into the kiss, one hand gripping his arm tightly while the other tangled in his messy blond hair.

He kissed you deeply, wet tongue sliding against yours as his fingers began to rub little circles over your folds through the damp fabric. The static sensation from his touch lit up your nerves like fireworks, making your hips twitch up into his hand. He ground his palm against your cunt, drawing a muffled moan from you.

Then he pulled back just enough to look at you, breathing a little heavier.

“You’re so wet,” he teased, pecking your lips.

You let out an exhausted laugh, still trying to catch your breath. “It’s just ‘cause I wore them in the water.”

Ben shushed you, trying to hide his smile against your lips. “Don’t ruin this for me, yeah?”

You smiled against his mouth, nodding as he kissed you once more. His fingers kept up that rhythm, rubbing and pressing through your panties until you were squirming under him, your hips rolling up frequently to meet his touch.

Ben chuckled as you whined under him. “You’re so noisy,” he murmured, nipping at your cheek. “Pipe down before someone hears you.”

You cursed under your breath. “Then stop teasing me.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyebrows raised in mock exasperation. “Teasing? Girlie, this is not teasing. This is—”

He let his hand slip away from you completely, leaving you aching and frustrated. Then, with a wicked little grin, he hovered just one finger above your clit. Tiny pulses of static electricity danced from his fingertip, teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves without any real pressure. 

“Cut it out,” you whined.

Ben tilted his head. “Then you need to talk nicer to me.”

You huffed, feeling embarrassed, but the ache between your legs won out. “Please…”

He hummed, pretending to think it over. “I don’t listen to babies. I listen to big girls who know how to use their words.”

Your face flushed hot. For a second you wondered if you were dreaming—this couldn’t be real life, not with Ben saying something so lewd.

“Are you gonna be a big girl?”

He finally pressed his finger firmly against your clit firmly, causing you to sputter out, “Will you… finger me please?”

Ben hummed again, “Nah.”

You groaned in frustration. “You’re doing this again? Nah??”

He patted your cunt before pulling his hand away and rolling onto his back beside you, tucking his hands behind his head like he was settling in for a nap. You lay there, hot and bothered and honestly a little angry, staring up at the stars while Ben looked far too pleased with himself.

“Ben…” You whined.

He just unrepentantly closed his eyes, the picture of relaxation. “I wish I had some food right now. I’m starving.”

You scoffed, sitting up and looking down at him. “Benjamin.”

Ben finally cracked an eyelid open, eyeing you. “I know a snack I could have.”

You hit his chest, but he caught your hand and tugged you down toward him. He pecked your lips as he spoke, “Will you ride my face?”

You pulled back and covered your face with both hands, mortified. “Fuck off.”

Ben tsked, clearly enjoying the reactions he was getting out of you. “Nah. I know you’re into that freaky shit. I’ve seen your browser history.”

You glared at him, but the flush on your face only got worse. His fingers traced your hips again, hooking into the waistband of your panties and tugging at them playfully.

He lay back fully, pulling at your hands until you were kneeling next to him. “Come on, girlie. Don’t be shy.”

You told him to quit, but your body was already moving. You turned away from him so your back faced his head, and slowly swung one leg over. Ben got excited immediately, his hands guiding your thigh as you straddled his face, kneeling on your knees. You placed your hands on his abdomen, bracing your weight against him as his fingers gripped and prodded at your hips, pulling you down.

“I don’t want any of that hovering shit either.” Ben sounded overly eager. “Sit dooown.”

Ben tugged your hips roughly. You gasped when you felt his lips press against you over the fabric of your panties, his breath creating damp spots against the soaked material. You felt your lips falling open as he kissed repeatedly over your clit.

“Been waiting for this,” he muttered, groaning against your cunt.

He reached up and tugged the lining of your panties aside. The air hit your bare skin and made you shiver, nervousness making the hair on your arms stand up. Then you felt his finger press against your folds, smearing your wetness up to your clit and watching how slick collected on his thumb. You couldn’t clamp your thighs shut due to his head, so you literally had to just take it. 

“So you are wet,” Ben chuckled. His thumb pushed through your folds, collecting more of your slick where you hovered over his mouth. He brought his thumb to his lips and you heard the wet sound of him sucking it clean. Then his hands were back around your hips and gripping your ass firmly. You jumped at the touch.

“Whine to somebody who cares,” he pulled your hips down and connected your bare cunt with his mouth.

You felt him exhale against your skin before his tongue licked across your folds in long strokes, lapping at your cunt like candy. He groaned loudly under you, the sound muffling straight through your core as his hands gripped your ass, pulling you down harder onto his face and digging your knees into the ground.

His tongue split your folds, dragging over your clit and up to your entrance. He prodded that spot before sucking on your clit with wet, obnoxious kisses. His jaw and chin worked eagerly, drinking in every bit of your arousal as it dripped onto his tongue. You dug your nails into his taut abdomen, feeling the muscles strain under your fingers as he held you in place, refusing to give you a moment to adjust.

His fingers kneaded and tugged at your ass, pulling your panties taut and snapping the waistband against your skin until your skin welted from the impacts. You tried to hit his stomach, gasping out, “Ben—chill out, you’re being too rough—”

He patted your ass in response, humming a pleased little sound that made you shiver. He dug his heels into the grass, his thighs straining.

You hung your head between your shoulders, panting in quick little inhales because you were so overwhelmed. It was hard to focus with all the sensations writhing through your head. You found your legs were beginning to shake under you, your muscles tensing to hold yourself steady.

You felt him breathing heavily against you, his tongue slurping and making those lewd, wet noises that made you groan and cringe.

“This is so nasty,” you panted, but that didn’t stop how good it felt.

Ben eventually let up, pulling your ass up just enough so he could talk, his thumb taking over and rubbing circles over your clit instead. He sounded amused.

“If it’s so nasty, then why are you grinding on me?”

You shook your head quickly. “I’m not—”

“Yeah you are,” he chided, and smacked your ass with his other hand.

You jerked at the sharp sting. Ben kissed the inside of your thigh.

“You’re so dirty,” he murmured, teasing the hide off of you. “Such a dirty girl.”

Then he pulled you back down onto his face. This time his tongue pushed up between your folds and pressed right against your entrance, lapping at it before pushing inside you.

You gasped sharply, your arms buckling as you fell forward onto your forearms on top of him, landing you with a face-full. Inside Ben’s already wet boxers, the frustratingly hot outline of his cock was clear and laid across his hip, jerking and pulsing in time with his movements under you.

You gasped again, trying to regulate your breathing as Ben began to tongue-fuck you properly. The wet muscle thrust in and out, pushing inside you while his thumb continued rubbing firm circles on your clit. Your thighs trembled on either side of his head. You couldn’t stop staring at the way his cock twitched in his boxers, the sight making your stomach tighten with heat.

You couldn’t help yourself. There was no room left for shame when you’d already gone this far.

You propped your weight on one arm, then reached down with the other, pressing your hand over the thick outline of his cock over his boxers. Ben’s hips jerked up at the contact, a muffled noise grumbling against your cunt before he pulled back just enough to huff a laugh.

“Ooh yeah… that’s much better.”

He ground up into your hand, and you wrapped your fingers around his clothed length, letting him thrust into your grip. You heard him grunt and groan as he went back to eating you, not even making you work for it, just fucking your hand with all the lack of embarrassment he hsd.

You watched with wide eyes, panting as you felt every wet brush of his tongue. Your mind started to wander, imagining what it would feel like if that cock was inside you instead. The thought made you whine, gritting out, “You’re so mean to me.”

Ben hummed a little “nuh uh” against your cunt.

“Yes you are,” you breathed, deciding that you’d rather grind fully against his mouth than pretend like you didn’t want it.

You pushed your hand under his boxers, his skin cool and damp underneath. Your fingers found the hard length of him and wrapped around it, gripping the middle and tightening your fingers until you heard the blond groan behind you. You felt so frustrated at how turned on you were, the words bubbling out before you could stop them,

“But it turns me on so bad, Ben. You’re so frustrating… but I just want you to make me cum.”

Ben’s grip on your ass tightened, nails digging into your skin as he growled against you.

“I can make you cum, girlie. As many times as you want. I’ll do anything for this pussy.”

You groaned, starting to stroke his cock slowly, feeling it throb in your hand. Ben jerked his hips up into your grip, but you helped him now, rubbing your thumb over the leaking head, spreading the slick precum as you pumped him.

You pulled back the waistband of his boxers, his cock springing out sending droplets of pre across his abdomen. It was long, the tip a dark, swollen red with thin veins running up the sides, curving just slightly toward his navel. You stared at it for a second, mesmerized, before pumping it slowly. You watched his tip disappear into your fist and reappear, glistening your thumb with precum.

You leaned down, and it was like Ben already knew what you were about to do. His hips bucked up excitedly toward your face, an eager sound rumbling from behind you.

You parted your lips, taking a shaky breath before sticking your tongue out. The first lick across his slit made Ben pull off your cunt with a loud, obnoxious moan, his chest heaving as you lapped at the bead of precum leaking from him.

“Fuck—” he cursed. He kissed your cunt again, taking shaky breaths like he was trying to pull his composure together.

You closed your eyes and sucked lightly on his tip, running the flat of your tongue along his slit until more precum dribbled out onto your tastebuds. The salty taste made you hum softly around him. You pushed your hips back against Ben’s face, silently urging him not to stop what he was doing.

He took the hint with earnest hunger. His tongues dove back in, his lips sucking against you so intently you think he must be thanking you. You took more of him into your mouth, sucking gently while your hand stroked what you couldn’t fit. 

Ben fucked up into your mouth the best you would let him. The angle was awkward, but you took as much of him as you could, wetting his cock before popping off to focus on the head. Your other hand slid up to press against his pelvis, your fingers tangling in the messy patch of pubic hair at the base of him.

You felt how he worked with you—how every time he pulled your body down, you took more of his cock when he’d buck up to yiu, your eyes pricking with tears as the head bumped against the roof of your mouth. Your tongue swept along the underside of him, trying your damnedest not to graze him with your teeth.

Ben slurred against you, his lips wet with your slick and smearing it between your thighs.

“Let me know if this is too much.”

You couldn’t question him with your mouth full, so you only realized what he meant when you felt that familiar static sensation bloom from his hands again. It started at your hips and spread inward, prickling your nerves, like electricity buzzing under your skin.

You squirmed, popping off his cock with a wet gasp as the feeling intensified. 

“Oou, shit…” you whined.

Then it grew louder when his thumb pressed firmly against your clit, sending a current through you. Your body lit up, nerves firing from one end to the other as you tensed at the overwhelming sensation. It felt like you were being run through with electricity, like your bones themselves were vibrating inside you. You thought your pussy might go numb from how intense it was.

You silenced your whines by sinking back down on his cock, bobbing your head up and down to distract yourself, to not become completely overwhelmed. It hardly worked. The static buzz mixed with the thick heat of him in your mouth and the relentless work of his tongue made your head spin.

You felt like you couldn’t grind your clit against his tongue hard enough, like Ben had just stuck his tongue out and let you use it desperately. Your hips rolled and bucked, chasing that perfect pressure as the pleasure built higher and higher.

“Mmhnn…”

You tried to stave it off, if only to hold back the embarrassment of cumming before him. You angled your head down, letting the head of his cock slide along your tongue toward the back of your throat instead of bumping the roof of your mouth. You scrunched your face, trying not to choke as Ben moaned loudly against you, his hips jerking up immediately to fuck deeper into your mouth now that you had given him access.

But you couldn’t hold it back. And it seemed like neither could he, because both of you were getting loud and moaning obnoxiously, your hips jerking and grinding against each other’s mouths in messy coherence. 

His lips circled your clit and sucked at the bud, practically making out with the bundle of nerves.

That was all you could stand.

You hit his hip, planting both hands onto each of his hips as you clamped your eyes shut, pushed your head down as far as you could, and took it, letting him fuck your face fully. Ben seemed to get the message, because he let go of your hips and grabbed your thighs instead, holding you open so you could grind your cunt against his face as hard as you wanted.

You both came at the same time.

Your orgasm hit like a firework, crackling through you as you moaned loudly around his cock, your thighs shaking violently over his shoulders. Ben groaned deeply into your cunt, the sound muffled and wet as he spilled into your mouth, thick ropes of cum coating your tongue. You swallowed what you could, the rest leaking from the corners of your lips as you sucked him through it, your hips still grinding weakly against his face while his tongue worked you through the aftershocks.

You popped off his cock, panting as you tried to steady your body. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, and with the last bit of strength you had, you rolled off him and collapsed onto the grass beside him.

Ben blinked deliriously up at the sky, his chest rising and falling quickly as he caught his breath. He wiped his own mouth with the back of his hand, then glanced over at you. His red eyes flicked down at himself for a second, then back up to the stars.

“Nice.”

You cracked a smile, feeling far more relaxed than you had all night. The night had turned syrupy and warm around you, your high still humming pleasantly through your veins.

Ben reached his arm out, tugging at yours until you slid up next to him. You laid your head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around you comfortably. 

“Don’t get all sentimental now,” you teased.

He smiled, “Eat my ass.”

You hummed, tracing your finger lazily across his abdomen. “I get it now. Why people like being high so much. It makes everything feel so… unreal.”

Ben nodded. “You’re gonna really think that when I fuck you after I get you geeked.”

You rolled your eyes, swatting at his chest. “Chill. I’m easy.”

Ben laughed at you. “Clearly.”

You swatted him again, a little harder than the last. He sat up after a moment, reaching for his discarded jeans near him and digging into the pocket. You sat up too, curious to watch as he pulled out a preroll and his lighter.

He grinned at you, holding the joint out. “We could try right now.”

You eyed him for a second, then nodded.

Ben placed the filter between your lips when you leaned in. He flicked the lighter and held the flame to the end. You inhaled slowly a couple of times to get it started before you got a good hit, holding it in your lungs for a moment before exhaling. But before the smoke could fully leave your mouth, Ben leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours, inhaling the smoke you blew out.

The taste of weed and him mixed together on your tongue. He pulled back just enough to exhale the smoke between you, red eyes half-lidded and looking at your lips.

“First one to cum has to wash the other’s clothes when we get back.”

“Deal.”

Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are appreciated!

๑ prologue

๑ back to my masterlists

Feeling sick? Gotta pee? Could you fake puke? Maybe just sneak away to your room—But before you could settle on anything useful, the bottle neck drifted to a stop.

It pointed straight at Brian.

A loud whistle cut through the room. Toby was sprawled across the loveseat between Natalie and Jack, clearly more drunk than he’d realized or cared to acknowledge. His wonky grin took up the majority of his face as he pointed his finger at Brian like he’d just won the lottery.

Brian stood up slowly, stretching his arms over his head and rolling his shoulders like he had all the time in the world. The picture of calm. Toby scrambled up after him, wobbling on his feet before slinging an arm around Brian’s shoulders and smacking his chest.

“C’mon, man! T-This is perfect,” Toby slurred, grinning at you. “Brian’s a great guy. R-Re-Real stand-up. You should give him a chance, he’s got thh-that whole good guy vibe going on. Suuuuper reliable. Never le-leaves dishes in the sink or n-nothin’!”

Tim, leaning against the wall behind them with a beer in hand, tried (and failed) to hide his grin behind the bottle. His shoulders shook with silent laughter as he watched the whole thing unfold, having to look away to get a grip.

Brian let out a short laugh and pushed Toby off of him with a playful, “Fuck off, kid.”

Toby dramatically stumbled backward and collapsed back onto the loveseat, landing right in Natalie and Jack’s laps. Natalie ruffled his hair while Jack just sighed, all resigned as he took Toby’s legs atop his lap. The rest of the room stumbled into teasing whistles and catcalls. Jeff yelled something crude about Brian finally getting lucky, and Nina clapped like she was watching a sports game, but everybody was slowly turning their attention to you—who was still sitting on the floor, dumbfounded.

Brian ignored all of them. He waved the noise off with one hand and walked over to you, stopping right in front. He held his hand out for you to take with a grin on his face.

“I’m a gentleman,” he made sure to emphasize, “unlike these freaks. You ready?”

You stared at his hand for a second, your nerves wobbling in your chest. It felt more awkward to just sit here and stare at him, so you stomped down your hopes of escape. After a beat, you took his hand.

Brian’s fingers closed around yours. He gave you a gentle tug to help you up, then kept hold of your hand as he led you down the hallway toward the closet. The music got louder behind you as someone, probably Ben, cranked it up again, right before you heard Toby yell something about ‘more beer.’

When you reached the closet door, he opened it for you first, releasing your hand.

“Go on in,” he said easily.

You stepped inside. Brian was right behind you, but just as he moved to follow, he paused like he’d forgotten something.

“Hold on a second,” he told you, leaving the door cracked open. “I’ll be right back.”

You watched him disappear back down the hall. With a sigh, you reached up and tugged the pull chain. The single bulb clicked on, casting a weak yellow glow over everything. The closet was crammed with old coats hanging on the rod and stacks of dusty boxes shoved against the walls. It was tight, but not suffocating, with enough room that you wouldn’t be stepping on each other’s feet.

That wouldn’t make it any less awkward, however.

A moment later, you heard footsteps coming back. Brian reappeared in the doorway, two cold beer necks clutched between his fingers. He stepped inside, ducking slightly under the low frame, and pulled the door shut behind him with a tug. The loud music from the living room instantly dulled to a distant thump.

He held one of the beers out to you with a sheepish smile, showcasing the gap between his teeth.

“Figured we could use these,” he said. “Didn’t want to spend the whole time sober while everyone else is losing their minds out there.”

You took the cold bottle from him, the chill biting pleasantly against your palm. Brian leaned back against the wall across from you, twisting the cap off his own beer with a hiss from the air-tight seal. He took a sip, then looked at you, his eyes giving you a quick up-down.

You gave him a quick once-over as well. Brian was dressed like he always was, but somehow it looked a little nicer tonight, if only because of the lighting—worn jeans, a baggy black t-shirt, and a gray zip-up jacket thrown over top. His usual work boots were on, scuffed and familiar. No mask, though. Nobody was wearing one tonight, which was an extremely pleasant change from the usual Halloween-ish nightmare you all lived in. His short brown-blond hair was a little messy, and the unkempt stubble on his jaw made his already tired, sad-looking eyes seem even more downturned. Still, it worked with the constant grin he was wearing right now—definitely helped along by the alcohol.

You popped the cap off your beer and took a sip. The cold liquid felt nice going down, but the bitter taste made you cringe. Brian must have noticed and let out an amused chuckle.

“Yeah, it’s not great,” he said, taking a sip of his own. “But who drinks for the flavor anyway?”

He leaned back against the wall, looking comfortable even despite the little space. For a moment it was quiet, just the muffled thump of music and distant laughter filtering through the door.

“So,” Brian kept his voice casual, “how’s your night been so far? Besides getting dragged into this whole game, I mean.”

You let out a laugh, shrugging. “It’s been… loud. Before we kicked everyone out, I was mainly just crowd-watching. Other than that, I’ve mostly been trying to stay out of the worst of it.”

Brian nodded, smiling a little. “Smart. I saw Jeff spike the punch with a couple of different things. Not sure what he put in it, but I’m staying far away.” He took another sip, eyes flicking back to you. “Who else have you talked to tonight? Anyone give you trouble?”

It was kind of like he was cataloging what you’d done tonight.

You shook your head. “Not really. Toby tried to get me to shotgun a beer with him, but I managed to dodge that one. Other than that… just floating around, I guess.”

He hummed, “Floating around isn’t bad— Which reminds me.”

Brian cut himself off, reaching around into his back jean pocket. He fished out a small, slim handheld camcorder, tucking his beer against his side as he flipped the screen open and turned it on. You leaned in a little, curious as to what he was doing. The tiny screen lit up, glowing a dim blue across his face.

“Have you been recording all night?” you asked, watching as he tapped through the menu.

Brian nodded, a little mischievous smile pulling at his lips. “Secretly. I like to collect blackmail. Never know when it’ll come in handy.”

He pressed his back against the wall and slid down until he was sitting on the floor, legs stretched out in front of him. He pulled his legs to the side to give you room.

“C’mere. Sit with me.”

You hesitated for half a second before sliding down the wall opposite him, knees tucked up against your chest. It felt better sitting like this, more relaxed and less like you were trapped in here. Brian’s calm energy was contagious.

He took a sip from his beer and started flipping through the clips, thumb clicking the side buttons as he searched for something. The screen flashed with blurry moments from the night, and you’d catch familiar faces and rooms, but he’d click onto the next one before you could really register any of them. Brian chuckled under his breath at one clip, then paused immediately on the next.

“Mmh— here,” he said, turning the screen toward you.

You took the camcorder from Brian’s hand, the small device surprisingly heavy for its size. You clicked the play button.

It was Tim.

He was out on the back porch, leaning against the railing with a cigarette between his teeth, just like always. The camera shook a little as Brian’s voice came through the speaker behind the screen, teasing the shorter man.

“Smile for the camera, Timothy.”

Tim turned his head, eyes narrowing with irritation. “Get that thing out of my face.”

Brian’s laugh crackled through. “Relax, man. It’s just for posterity.”

In the background, Jeff and Ben came strolling into frame, both of them already looking pretty gone. Jeff shoulder-checked Tim as he walked past, not even trying to be subtle.

“’Scuse me, old man,” Jeff headed toward the far end of the porch.

Tim grumbled something under his breath, taking a long drag from his cigarette. Jeff set his red Solo cup—probably full of tequila or vodka, knowing him—down on the railing next to him. He and Ben started rolling a joint, laughing about something stupid as they looked out towards the yard and away from their cups.

Brian leaned in closer on the recording, whispering something to Tim that the camera mic didn’t quite catch. Whatever it was, it made Tim’s mouth pull into a grin.

You watched as Tim casually reached over, picked up the ashtray he had sitting on the railing, and tipped it straight into Jeff’s cup. The ashes and cigarette butts settled into the liquor without a sound.

The clip ended with Jeff reaching for his drink, completely oblivious, as Tim and Brian briskly walked away and fumbled the camera off.

You let out a surprised laugh, looking up from the screen. Brian was grinning at you, clearly pleased with himself.

“He drank the whole thing,” he said, his tone warm with amusement. “Didn’t even notice until his entire drink was about gone”

You shook your head, “You two are evil.”

Brian shrugged, “I could always do worse.”

You rolled your eyes. “Can I look at some others?”

Brian nodded, satisfied to sit back and nurse his bottle.

You flipped through the library. There were dozens of short clips—some familiar faces, some you didn’t recognize at all. A lot of them were exactly what you’d expect from a party like this: full of blurry footage of people slamming drinks, someone throwing up into a plant, Jeff doing something stupid. Toby doing something stupid. You skipped past most of those pretty quickly.

Then you landed on one that made you pause. It was Toby.

He was standing in the kitchen, his head tilted back as he chugged a beer straight through the gash in his cheek. At the same time, he was trying to take a shot with his actual mouth. Beer and liquor both spilled messily down his chin and neck while he laughed. You cringed, nose wrinkling at the thought of the taste and the burn he wouldn’t feel.

“Oh my god,” you muttered, moving on to a clip of Kate.

She was curled up in the corner of the dining room, her arms wrapped tightly around Smile Dog like he was a giant stuffed animal. The massive canine looked surprisingly content, his tongue lolling out as she drunkenly scratched behind the husky’s ears. Kate’s voice came through the speaker, slurred and grumpy as it had been earlier.

“Go away, Brian… Leave us alone.”

Brian’s voice filtered through the speaker again. “Kate, you can’t bring him down here. Jeff’s gonna lose his shit if he sees you snuck him out of his room.”

Kate just hugged the dog tighter and flipped Brian off without looking up.

You flipped through a few more clips, skipping until your attention was caught again.

Brian was walking up the stairs, the camera pointed forward as he pushed past a few people crowding the hallway. He reached the bathroom door and tried the handle. It was unlocked. The camera pushed in as the door swung open.

Inside, Jane stood between Nina’s legs, Nina perched on the sink counter. The two of them were kissing, lost in the other and clearly not expecting company. Nina gasped against Jane’s mouth when she heard the door open, then goofily waved at the camera with a tipsy little grin. Jane whipped around and slammed the door shut so hard the camera shook.

Brian’s laugh crackled through the speaker right before the clip cut off.

You looked up at him, eyes wide with shock, but Brian just nodded. “Can’t wait to use that one later,” he grinned.

You let out a stunned laugh and shut the camcorder, handing it back to him. Brian took it and slid it into his back pocket again before draining the rest of his beer in one go.

“I never thought about how many people probably sneak around at parties like this,” you said, still a little amazed. “Or how many weird pairs end up together once everyone gets drunk.”

Brian set his empty bottle on the floor beside him and leaned his head back against the wall, looking at you down the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah. You’d be surprised. People get loose when there’s not a big boss around. All the tension, all the pretending… it comes out eventually.” He gave a shrug. “Sometimes it’s just for the night. Sometimes it sticks around longer than you meant for it to.”

He just eyed your expression as he spoke.

“Doesn’t always make sense,” he added, almost like he was talking to himself. “But that’s half the fun, I guess.”

You leaned your head back against the wall too, letting out a breath as you thought about what he said.

It was funny, really. Tonight felt different. People weren’t just tolerating each other like they usually did for the sake of missions and appearances with Slender. They were actually with the people they liked. EJ, Toby, and Natalie had been glued together all night, moving from room to room together like it was the most natural thing in the world for them. Jeff and Ben hanging out for more than ten minutes without fighting. And then there was Jane and Nina in that clip—which was clearly not their first time.

You let out a laugh.

“What?” Brian grinned.

“Nothing, just… thinking about how many weird pairs there are tonight,” you rambled. “Like, people are really hanging out with who they actually want to be around instead of who they’re forced to work with. It’s kind of nice.”

Brian hummed in agreement.

You kept going, the thought unfolding as you spoke. “And now here we are. You and me. That’s pretty unusual too, right? It could’ve been anyone in here with me. Could’ve been Tim. Or Jeff.” You shivered visibly at the last one and laughed. “God, imagine being stuck in here with him right now.”

Brian sat up a little straighter, keeping his speaking tone level.

“Would you have preferred it to be Jeff?” He kept his expression blank.

You shook your head quickly. “Nah. He’s too full of himself tonight. I don’t think I could’ve had an actual conversation with him without wanting to smack him.”

Brian chuckled at that, leaning back again. “Fair enough.” He then paused, before asking, “Is there anyone else you would’ve preferred it to be?”

You weighed the question for a second, staring at the dusty boxes across from you. Then you looked back at him.

“No,” you said honestly. “This is… nice. A lot less awkward than I thought it was gonna be.”

Brian’s demeanor softened. He looked at you for a long moment, before his tone evened out to a nice hum.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “It is.”

You felt your cheeks warm a little and quickly tried to push the feeling down, focusing on picking at the beer label in your hands instead. You went to ask how much time he thought was left when—

A loud slam echoed through the walls, followed immediately by the sharp shatter of glass. The floorboards vibrated under you. It sounded like someone had taken a hard fall.

You went to speak—

Then another slam, this time quickly followed by loud voices and the thumping music cutting off. You sat up straighter. “Should we go check that out?”

Before Brian could answer, two voices rose above the rest—one of them unmistakably Toby’s, which was very loud and very angry. Brian was already climbing to his feet.

“Yeah,” he held out a hand to you, hauling you up when you took it. “Come on.”

The two of you pushed out of the closet and hurried down the hall. The moment you rounded the corner into the living room, the mess became clear. The lamp that used to sit on the coffee table was now in pieces across the floor, shards of glass scattered everywhere across the rug. Playing cards and half-empty bottles were scattered everywhere, like someone had swept an entire game off the table in one angry motion.

You looked left, finding Toby storming toward the front door, his shoulders up and tight, yelling at someone just ahead of him. Whoever it was yelled right back. The rest of the group was already spilling outside after them, the screen door slamming again and again.

You and Brian followed, stepping out into the brisk night air.

The night air hit you immediately, cool and refreshing after the stuffy warmth of the house and the intense amounts of cigarette smoke in the air. At the uproar, the party had migrated onto the front lawn and porch, forming a loose, noisy circle around whatever was happening out in the yard. You stepped down the porch steps with Brian right behind you, both of you pushing through the loose crowd.

In the center of it all stood Toby, his shoulders squared and fists clenched, looking mad as hell. And across from him, of course, was Jeff. Because who else would it be?

Brian came up beside you and let out a long, exhausted groan at the sight. “Every damn time. This kid.”

Before you could say anything, someone else slid up to your other side. You turned to see a worn out looking Tim with an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips, chewing tensely on the filter.

You opened your mouth to ask what happened, but Tim beat you to it, his tone drenched with irritation. “Tell your boy to give me my lighter back.”

Brian chuckled under his breath and reached into his pocket, pulling out the lighter with a sly, “Sorry, man. Must’ve slipped in there.” He handed it over, and Tim snatched it, lighting his cigarette quickly.

He exhaled a cloud of smoke and muttered, “This is the second fight tonight. Christ.”

You glanced between them. “What happened?”

Tim took another long pull from his cigarette, his tired eyes roaming the scene before you. “They were playing King’s Cup. Jeff made some nasty fucking comment about Natalie. Called her Toby’s ‘sleeve,’ said he could show her a much better time and wouldn’t ghost her at the end of the night like Toby does.”

He shook his head, smoke pushing through his nose.

“I watched Toby fly across that table like a goddamn dog. That’s when I told them both to take it outside before they break anything else in the house. If they wanna fight, they can fight out here.”

Brian sighed beside you, running a hand through his hair. “Should’ve known it was gonna end up like this.”

Tim just continued to nurse his cigarette, muttering under his breath, “Idiots.”

Jeff went first.

With a big smile splitting his face, he launched himself at Toby like an animal. The collision was a very heavy thud of bodies hitting each other, then the grass. Toby hit the ground on his back under the weight of Jeff, but he didn’t stay down. Within seconds they were a mess of limbs, fists, and grunts, rolling and scrambling for the upper hand as they slapped and punched at the other.

Jeff got the first real swing in first, clipping Toby’s jaw just enough to make his head snap to the side. Everyone flinched at the sight, but Toby couldn't feel the pain of the impact. Instead, he drove his elbow straight into Jeff’s ribs, shoving hard and fast enough that you heard the impact. Jeff made a shrill noise, like a pained laugh, before grabbing a fistful of Toby’s hoodie and yanking him forward, cracking his forehead into Toby’s nose.

Brian crossed his arms beside you, shaking his head. “Not a smart idea to get into a punching match with a guy who can’t feel your punches,” he muttered dryly.

You nodded, eyes glued to the fight. Toby was landing hits one after the other, sending punches that looked like they should’ve hurt way more than Jeff made them seem like they did. Jeff was faster and more careless, smiling through every hit like the pain fueled him. Blood was already starting to show through a cut above Toby’s eyebrow from Jeff, and a nasty split in Jeff’s lip that had opened and was now dripping down his chin.

It was incredibly interesting to see how they fought now that they were impaired with alcohol and other things. Toby, who tonight had been nothing but a funny drunk, was now the embodiment of hatred. You don’t think you’ve seen his face this dead set on someone before, let alone this passionate about a fight. And Jeff? He just seemed like he was having more fun. All over a stupid comment about a stupid problem.

You scanned the crowd quickly. Natalie was nowhere in sight. At least not near the fight.

“Nat’s not here,” you said quietly.

Brian shrugged. “If somebody called out my weird cookout relationship like that, I probably wouldn’t want to stick around for the fight either.”

He nudged your side with his elbow, then reached into his back pocket and pulled out his camcorder. He held it out to you expectantly.

You lit up a little, rolling your eyes even as you took it. “You’re terrible.”

Still, you flipped it open, turned it on, and angled it discreetly toward the fight, pretending you were just holding it casually. The little screen flickered to life as you started recording. You captured it all. On the lawn, Jeff had finagled his way on top of Toby and was raining down punches. Toby blocked some with his forearms, then suddenly bucked his hips and flipped them over, slamming Jeff into the dirt. He got a solid hit in—a nasty right hook that snapped Jeff’s head to the side and sent blood spraying from his already split lip and now his nose too.

“You talk about her like that again and I’ll cut off your dick and feed it to your mutt.” Toby growled, snarling his teeth.

Jeff just laughed, kicking at the other. “What’s the matter, twitchy? Can’t handle the truth? She deserves better than your defective ass—”

Toby cut off his sentence with a punch to the jaw.

The crowd reacted in waves—some cheering them on, others groaning or shouting for them to stop. You caught Ben and Nina in the crowd, both of them onlooking the fight and cringing every time Jeff got hit. Alternatively, Kate was drunkenly yelling for Toby to smear Jeff’s face on the pavement.

Toby let out a furious shout and shoved Jeff off him with both hands, sending the other boy scrambling backward across the grass. Jeff’s grin never faltered. He shuffled back on his hands until his fingers closed around something on the ground. You couldn’t quite make it out through the camcorder screen at first, but when you looked up, your stomach turned a little in your gut.

Jeff had grabbed a discarded beer bottle someone littered in the yard. In one sharp motion, he smashed it against the ground. Glass shattered, broken shards shooting out into the grass. He rose back to his feet holding the broken neck, the jagged shards pointing outward like a crude knife.

Tim dropped his cigarette from his mouth and stomped it out. “Alright, that’s enough,” he grumbled. “Someone’s gonna end up killed.”

Brian groaned beside you, clearly disappointed that the entertainment was ending. “I wanted to see who wins, though…” He shot you a gapped toothy grin. Tim shot him a withering look instead and started forward. Brian sighed but followed, both of them pushing through the circle of onlookers to break it up.

But the second Jeff saw them coming, his wild eyes lit up as he spun around, brandishing the broken bottle toward Tim and Brian like it was a real weapon.

Toby was panting on the ground, but grabbed a handful on dirt and flung it at the two approaching, “I don’t need your fu-fucking help.”

But when did Tim and Brian listen to anyone but Slender?

Jeff lunged at Brian with the glass, swiping wildly to try and get a hit in. Brian took a last-minute step to the side, grabbing Jeff’s wrist to keep the jagged edge away from his face. At the same time, Toby scrambled up and threw himself at Tim, who cursed loudly as he tried to restrain the boy without hurting the both of them.

You kept the camcorder going.

Toby was swinging at Tim with reckless abandon, screaming something about not needing babysitters. He’d seemingly forgotten about Jeff, who was now trying to stab at Brian, the two of them grappling at each other and trying to get a good hold. Brian was clearly trying to de-escalate while also not getting sliced open, while Tim was using his size to pin Toby down, grumbling the whole time about “goddamn children,” and their “dicks for brains.”

Fiddling with the camera to try and find the zoom button, you felt someone step up beside you and turned your head. EJ looked thoroughly bored by the whole spectacle unfolding before him, seemingly coming from inside the house.

“Where’s Nat?” you asked.

Jack let out a tired grumble. “She ran off somewhere with a bottle of whiskey. Probably doesn’t want to be disturbed right now.”

You nodded, turning your attention back to the fight just in time to see Toby land a solid punch on Tim’s jaw. Tim had been trying to pull him off Jeff, but the hit made him stagger back a step, cursing before he stepped back in.

You glanced at EJ again. “Why aren’t you getting in on this too?”

He grinned, showcasing the sharp points of his teeth. “I fight my own battles.”

You went to laugh, but the sound hadn’t even fully left your mouth before a blur of movement slammed into you from the side. The camcorder flew from your hands, clattering somewhere in the grass. The impact knocked the air straight out of your lungs as your back hit the hard ground. A heavy weight landed on top of you, pinning you down.

You grabbed at the body instinctively—and found yourself staring up at Jeff’s bloodied, grinning face inches from yours.

“Whoops,” his voice sounded hoarse. “Hi, pretty.”

He panted as he hovered above you, droplets of blood sliding down his chin and the front of his shirt. One hand braced beside your head, the other fisted in the front of your shirt from the collision. He looked completely unrepentant—and way too pleased with himself.

You cringed, but were too stunned and out of breath to shove him off of you the way you wanted to. His tangled hair fell like a curtain around his face. “Didn’t mean to knock you over like that,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. “Though… I’m not complaining about the view.”

You tried to scramble Jeff off of you, shoving at his chest with avail, but before you could get any leverage, Tim’s voice cut through the noise like a whip, “Brian—!”

Behind Jeff’s shoulder, you saw Brian—the picture of absolute hatred. He grabbed a fistful of Jeff’s hair and hauled him upright in one brutal motion, then slammed him down into the dirt in the opposite direction.

You scrambled up as quickly as you could. Jack steadied you with a hand on your arm as you both watched the fight explode into something much messier than what it was previously.

You think Brian might kill him.

He didn’t hold back. His fists came down hard and fast, knuckles cracking against Jeff’s face with wet, ugly sounds. Jeff laughed at first, like he always does, but it soon turned into grunts and curses as Brian kept swinging. Toby and Tim rushed in, trying to pull Brian off, but Brian was furious, locked in on nothing else. He shook them off like they weighed nothing, landing another heavy punch that split Jeff’s cheek open.

You wiped dirt and grass from your clothes, your heart hammering in your chest, when Jeff suddenly snatched the broken beer bottle again. He swung blindly, catching Brian across the shoulder and then the side. Blood immediately soaked through Brian’s shirt, dark stains spreading across the fabric.

You yelled out, cringing at every thunk of fist on flesh.

Eventually Jeff struggled his way out from under the brunet, his nose clearly broken but going completely ignored. He looked feral, if anything.

You watched as EJ moved from his spot next to you.

The tall figure walked straight into the fray, grabbed Jeff by the back of the neck with one large hand, and shoved his head down toward the ground. Jeff struggled, snarling and swinging, but EJ’s strength was undeniable. He held him in place like a disobedient dog, guiding him away from Brian with terrifying ease.

You rushed over to Brian. He was still on one knee, breathing hard, blood seeping through the rips in his clothes. You grabbed his arm and helped pull him up, ducking under his shoulder so he could lean his weight on you.

“I’ve got you,” you said, acting as a crutch while he steadied himself. Brian winced but didn’t complain, one hand pressing against the cut on his side. His face was tight with pain and lingering anger, but he let you support most of his weight.

Around you, the yard was loud with overlapping voices of laughter and conversation, but you couldn’t focus elsewhere at the moment. Tim had finally gotten a solid hold on Toby, who was still whirring with adrenaline and spitting curses. Jack kept Jeff held next to him. He gave Toby and Brian a quick once-over before turning to Tim.

“Take Toby on a walk,” he said firmly. “Get him away from here.”

Tim nodded without argument, grabbing Toby by the back of his hoodie and steering him toward the treeline. Toby was still muttering curses under his breath, but he let himself be led away.

Jack’s gaze shifted to you and Brian. “There are spare bandages and stuff in the laundry room. Take him there. I’ll handle Jeff.”

Jeff immediately started cursing. “The fuck you will, you freak—”

But EJ was already moving, hauling Jeff toward the house without a word. The two of them disappeared inside, Jeff still spitting insults the whole way.

You slipped your arm more securely around Brian’s torso. “Come on.”

Brian winced as you helped him up the porch steps, but he didn’t complain. Halfway across the yard he paused you, bending down with a small groan to scoop up his camcorder from the grass. He tucked it into his pocket.

The house felt strangely quiet after all the yelling outside. You guided Brian down the hall, pushed open the laundry room door, and flipped on the light. The fluorescent bulb buzzed to life overhead as you shut the door behind you, cutting off the distant noise from outside. Brian leaned against the dryer and tried catching his breath. His gray zip-up was dark with blood in a couple places, it having soaked through his shirt now. You turned to the cabinets and started rifling through them, looking for the first aid supplies.

“You alright?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder as you pulled out a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and a box of medical wrap and bandages. Brian let out a tired huff and started shrugging off his jacket, wincing when the fabric pulled at the cuts on his shoulder and side.

“I’ve had worse,” he strained. “Jeff’s got a mean swing when he’s pissed, but he’s sloppy. Mostly got my shoulder and side.”

You set the supplies on the counter and turned to look at him properly. The cuts weren’t too deep, but they were bleeding steadily, and bruises were already starting to bloom across his skin. You grabbed a clean towel from one of the shelves and stepped closer. 

“You’re gonna have to take your shirt off,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant. “I can’t clean them properly like this.”

Brian smiled at you, which turned into a chuckle. “If you just wanted to get my shirt off, you could’ve asked nicely.”

You swatted at his arm, your cheeks burning hotter with every second. “Shut up and take it off.”

He obliged with a small hiss of pain, reaching back to pull the black t-shirt over his head. The fabric dragged against the cuts, making him grimace.

Your eyes betrayed you the second the shirt came off.

Brian was… unfairly built. Neat, blond hair dusted across his chest, trailing down over the defined lines of his abs. His shoulders and arms were strong and corded from years of rough work, and a sharp V-line disappearing beneath his belt buckle made your mouth go a little dry. The happy trail that led downward only made it worse. He wasn’t even doing anything, and yet just looking at him felt vulgar.

You had to physically blink yourself out of it before stepping closer.

You pressed the clean towel against the worst of the bleeding on his side. Being this close to him made the already small laundry room feel more cramped than the closet, which definitely had significantly less room. You could feel the heat rolling off his skin, could almost see steam rising where the cool air met his body. The bleeding had mostly slowed, but the cuts were still open enough that they needed covering to prevent any infection. You dabbed carefully, trying to be as gentle as possible.

“Sorry,” you whispered when he groaned.

“It’s okay,” Brian teased. “I can take it. I’m tough.”

You rolled your eyes, but smiled despite yourself. Once the area was as clean as you could get it with the towel, you picked up a rag from the same laundry stack and wetted it with the hydrogen peroxide.

“This might burn,” you warned.

He nodded, tightening his jaw as you pressed the rag to the cuts. He hissed through his teeth but stayed still, one hand gripping the edge of the dryer for support.

You worked in silence for a moment before the question slipped out. “Why did you fight Jeff like that?” you dabbed at a particularly nasty slice on his shoulder.

Brian didn’t answer right away. You glanced up at his face. His gaze was softer now, more focused on your face than on the pain.

“Is it because he fell on me?” you asked quietly. “It was an accident, Brian.”

He shook his head, eyes fixed somewhere above your head now. “It wasn’t.”

You paused, looking up at him. “What do you mean?”

Brian let out a deep breath. “Jeff saw you weren’t looking. He crashed into you on purpose. He knew it would piss me off.”

You blinked, processing his words. Your hand stilled against his side. “Are you… jealous?”

Brian didn’t answer right away. Instead, he shifted slightly so you could reach the cut under his arm better, ignoring your question. “He hurt you on purpose,” that was the only thing that mattered.

You didn’t push the jealousy question. “Still… nobody else reacted the way you did.”

Brian stayed silent as you finished cleaning the last of the cuts. You tore open a few bandage packets and started placing the squares over the worst ones, smoothing medical tape over them with careful fingers. He moved when you needed him to, lifting his arm or turning slightly without complaint.

When you were almost done, he spoke again, startling you a bit.

“He didn’t hurt you at all, did he?”

You shook your head. “Just knocked me down. I’m fine.”

“I’ll kill him.”

You let out a surprised laugh. “Why are you so mad?”

He didn’t answer.

You pressed another bandage into place, then looked up at him. “You’re dodging my questions. That’s three tonight.”

Brian huffed, exasperated that you’d called him out. “I’m not dodging. You’re just asking very difficult things.”

You raised an eyebrow, wiping your hands on the towel. “Okay. Fine. Simple questions only.” You smoothed one last piece of tape over his ribs. “What made you get so mad at Jeff?”

Brian watched you for a long moment. “Because he hurt you,” was all he said.

You sighed. “I’m not hurt.”

“You could’ve been.”

The words hung between you. You leaned back a little, studying him as you crossed your arms and reviewed your work. Brian’s bare chest rose and fell steadily under your gaze, the fresh bandages standing out against his skin, but staying secure nonetheless. It was a hack job, but at least he wasn’t bleeding anymore.

“Okay. You so many questions. My turn.” Brian crossed his arms. “Jeff hit you. Why aren’t you angry?”

You thought about it, then shrugged. “Because I know he’s an idiot. He does stuff like that to get a rise out of people, to get attention. If he actually wanted to hurt me, he would’ve been. It wasn’t about me. It was about getting under your skin.”

Brian looked at you for a long second, then glanced down at the fresh bandages on his side. He smoothed his fingers over one of them absently.

You crossed your arms too. “Why didn’t you haul Jeff off of Toby in the first place instead of jumping in?”

“Because Toby needed to get a little of his own back,” Brian said. “And he had a reason to fight.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And you didn’t?”

Brian shook his head, a little smile tugging at his mouth. “My turn.”

You grumbled but let him have it.

“Did I look cool fighting Jeff?” he asked, completely serious.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the question breaking your faux seriousness. “Yeah. You looked awesome.”

Brian’s grin widened, pleased with himself. But you quickly got back on track. “Why do you keep asking me questions about Jeff?” 

He shrugged. “Just want to know your opinions on him.”

You opened your mouth to ask another, but Brian was already speaking again.

“Why are you being such an interrogator tonight?”

“I’m not,” you said, a little defensive. Then you turned it back on him. “Why are you being so defensive? You literally fought for me in front of everyone, but now you won’t even answer my questions about why?”

Brian blew out a long breath and ran a hand over his face. He looked tired all of a sudden, but more of a restless type.

You pressed anyway, asking the same question from before. “Are you jealous of Jeff?”

He didn’t answer right away. The feeling of this silence was more thick than the cigarette smoke outside. Then Brian pushed off the dryer and stepped forward, crowding your space until your hips were nearly against the dryer. He looked down at you, grumbling as he spoke.

“No.”

You swallowed. “Liar.”

Brian’s eyes stayed on yours. For a moment, the only sound was your own heartbeat in your ears. When he spoke, he basically mumbled it.

“I don’t want anyone’s hands touching you but mine.”

It was around that moment that you began to smell the dried blood and peroxide in the air, and it made you a bit dizzy. Paired with the intense rush of adrenaline that shot through your gut at those words, you couldn’t do anything but blink at him. You could feel the warmth coming off his bare chest. Your hands itched to reach out, but you kept them at your sides, your heart racing as you looked up at him.

The outside world felt very far away now.

“Was that too forward?” His eyes looked all over your face, eyeing any expression you’d make.

You swallowed, throat suddenly very dry. “No.” The word came out quieter than you meant it to.

Brian let out a deep breath. Then his hands moved. They came up from his sides and settled on the edge of the dryer on either side of your hips, effectively pinning you back against the machine. The heat of his bare skin radiated toward you close enough that you could feel it even without him fully touching you.

Your heart kicked into a wild pace. Your eyes couldn’t decide where to settle—darting between his face and the toned lines of his chest, the sheen of sweat drying on his skin from the fight, the fresh bandages you’d just put on him. It was all so close.

It was your turn to ask something. You forced the words out.

“Why did you get so mad at Jeff… really?”

Brian breathed in deeply, his chest rising and falling right in front of you. For a moment he didn’t answer. Then his gaze dropped to your mouth for half a second before returning to your eyes.

“Because it made me so fucking mad,” he admitted, his voice turning a little gritty, “seeing him on you like that. He was so careless. Like you were just something to push around. He wouldn’t know how to handle you. He wouldn’t know what to do with you if he tried.”

The words hit you square in the chest. You stared at him, stunned into silence again. Brian watched your expression carefully, like he was bracing for you to pull away or tell him to stop.

Then, “Is this okay?”

He slid one hand from the edge of the dryer to rest on your hip. His palm was warm but rough from years of hauling weapons and bodies. The skin underneath erupted with goosebumps. His thumb brushed an absent circle over the fabric of your shirt.

You nodded, barely trusting your voice. Your hand came up slowly, your fingers wrapping around the forearm of the hand he still had braced on the dryer. Brian’s eyes flicked down to where you touched him, watching for a moment before his other hand slid from your hip up to the small of your waist, settling just atop your ribs. He leaned in just a tad closer.

You swallowed around the question you needed to ask. “Are you only doing this because you’re drunk and you want to hook up?”

The question slipped out before you could stop it. Your mind flashed back to your talk earlier—all those drunken pairs, Nina and Jane in the bathroom, the way people get when they’re under substances and lonely.

But Brian shook his head, giving you a certain look. “I’m not drunk.”

You blinked at him. “I’m… not either.”

He grinned just a bit. His thumb swept slowly across your side, catching just under the curve of your breast. The feeling made you gasp.

Brain looked at your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

You didn’t even have to think about it. “Yeah,” you whispered.

You both leaned in at the same time.

Your hand slid from his forearm up to his jaw, cupping his face as your lips met. Brian’s mouth was soft against yours, tasting faintly of beer and cigarette ash. Then he tilted his head slightly, deepening it, and everything seemed to melt in your brain and your nerves.

His hand on your waist pulled you closer, pressing your hips against his as his jaw worked to kiss you as deep as he could. You sighed into his mouth, your fingers sliding into the short hair at the nape of his neck and gripping there. Brian made a quiet sound in response and gripped at your waist a little harder.

When you finally pulled back for air, your foreheads stayed pressed together. Brian’s eyes were half-lidded, breathing a little uneven as his thumb continued its soothing stroke along your side.

“Been wanting to do that for a while,” he admitted.

You let out a shaky laugh, still cupping his jaw. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He pecked at your lips. “Way longer than just tonight.”

Brian kissed you again. Both of his hands settled on your waist, sliding slowly over the fabric of your shirt, exploring the curves he found. “I was so happy when the bottle landed on me,” he admitted between kisses. “I wanted to tell you. Wanted to kiss you the second we stepped in here. But you seemed content to just hang out and talk… so I was okay with that too.”

“You should’ve.”

Brian shook his head. “But when Jeff hit you… I was so mad. I just wanted to tear him to pieces. I didn’t know what to do with it.”

He leaned down a little, his hands sliding behind your thighs. In one smooth motion, he hauled you upward. You gripped his shoulders for balance, careful of his bandages, as he lifted you onto the top of the dryer, stepping between your legs. His hands splayed over your thighs, pushing them open just a little wider so he could press in as close as possible.

Then he kissed you again.

Your hands came up to cup either side of his jaw, and Brian made a frustrated noise as he spoke between more kisses.

“Jeff wouldn’t know how to touch you,” he murmured against your mouth. “Wouldn’t know how to be gentle. Wouldn’t know what you like… how you sound when you’re feeling good.”

You pulled back just enough to look at him, raising an eyebrow at his statements. “And you do?”

He nodded very seriously, as if that were even a question.

“I can show you,” he mumbled. “If you’ll let me.”

Before you could answer, his hands slid down to your thighs, tugging you forward until you were sitting right on the edge of the dryer. He stepped in closer, pressing his hips between your spread legs.

You felt him immediately—felt the hard, unmistakable outline of his cock pushing against you through both your jeans. You couldn’t help but gasp. Your hand flew down to his abdomen, your palm pressing flat against his warm skin to keep him from pressing any harder. You didn’t know if you could handle it right now. You let your other hand fall behind you, bracing your weight up. His abs were firm under your fingers, and the heat of him made your head spin.

“We shouldn’t do this in here,” you whispered.

Brian’s eyes stayed locked on yours.

“But you want to,” he hummed. “I can see it.”

You shivered, glancing over his shoulder at the closed laundry room door. “Someone could come in… there’s not even a lock on that door.”

Brian didn’t answer with words. Instead, he rolled his hips forward in the barest grind against your clothed center. Your eyes fluttered shut at the friction, a quiet groan catching in your throat. When you opened them again, Brian was looking down between your bodies, watching the way he pressed against you with heavy-lidded eyes.

The sight of him like that made something hot twist in your stomach.

Your hand slid from his abs down to the waistband of his jeans. Your fingers curled into the hem, gripping his belt. Then, almost without thinking, you tugged him forward, pulling his hips firmer against yours.

Brian’s eyes rolled back slightly as he grabbed your hips, letting you guide the rhythm while he ground against your clothed cunt. Sparks shot through your entire body with every slow roll of his hips against yours.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening. Your resolve was dissolving by the second, and as Brian began to speak endlessly, it didn’t help in the slightest.

“That’s it… feels so good already,” he breathed. “Look at that cute face. You feel good, don’t you?”

He pulled back just enough to give a little faux thrust between your legs, bumping his hard cock right against your center through your jeans. The quick bump made you jump, a sharp whine escaping you. Brian grinned against your lips as he leaned in, clearly enjoying your reaction, and did it again. And again.

He kept that rhythm—grinding hard when your hips met, then pulling back to give those teasing thrusts that made your thighs tremble. Somewhere in the middle of it, one of his hands slid up from your hip, cupping your chest over your shirt. His thumb brushed across your nipple through the fabric, and your head fell back against the wall.

“Brian—” you whined as quietly as you could.

“Tell me how you feel,” he murmured.

You swallowed, trying to catch your breath. “It feels good… really good. But you have to talk quieter. Please.”

Brian laughed quietly. “It’ll be alright,” he whispered. “Nobody’s coming in here.”

Before you could respond, he gripped your hips and tugged you off the dryer, setting you on your feet. He turned you around, pressing up behind you until your hips met the edge of the machine again. You braced your hands against the cool metal as he pushed forward, grinding his cock against your ass through your jeans.

Brian’s arms came around your waist, hugging your torso from behind as he pulled you back against his chest. His lips found your cheek, then your jaw, kissing you softly while he rolled his hips in little pushes.

“You okay?” his lips brushed against your ear. “I can stop if you want me to.”

You shook your head quickly. “No… just be easy.”

He hummed, “I’ll be so easy for you.”

His hands slipped under the hem of your shirt and his palms splayed across your stomach. He explored anything he could feel, his fingers tracing your skin as he pulled you tighter against him. Then his hands traveled higher, cupping your chest over your bra and squeezing handfuls.

You tried your best to push back against him, rolling your hips in time with his, but Brian was doing most of the work of guiding you with his hands and the rhythm of his body. Every grind against you made you feel the hard length of him, the friction sending heat curling up through your stomach.

“Can I finger you?” he whispered.

You barely had time to nod before his hands slid down your stomach, his fingers deftly popping the button of your jeans open. He tugged your zipper down, and you felt your face growing hotter by the second. 

“Why do you have to be so vulgar?” you groaned.

Brian chuckled, “I like how you react.” He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your jeans and panties together and started pulling them down your hips. “Can I?”

You nodded quickly. “Yeah…”

He pushed your jeans down just past your hips, letting them bunch around your thighs. The cool air hit your exposed cunt and you shivered, but Brian made sure to quickly warm you up. 

“These are cute,” he murmured, running his fingers along the waistband of your panties before tugging them the rest of the way down with your jeans. “But they’re in the way.”

His hands roamed over you—his palms sliding across your pelvis, your upper thighs, then between them. You pushed your hips back against him instinctively and Brian groaned when his fingers finally pushed between your folds, feeling just how wet you were.

“Fuck… you’re soaked,” His middle finger found your clit immediately and started rubbing eager, tight circles. You gripped his forearm as you whined, gritting your teeth.

“I should’ve done this sooner,” he groaned. “You clearly need it.”

His fingertips teased at your entrance, massaging the tight ring of muscle before swiping back up to your clit. You reached back with one hand, threading your fingers into his hair as he kissed and nipped at your neck, whispering filthy little comments between kisses.

“Would anybody else be able to make you feel this good? Nah, just me.”

Your hips rocked against his hand. Brian pressed his middle finger against your entrance and slowly pushed it inside.

You groaned, falling forward a little to brace against the dryer. The little stretch felt so good it made your head spin.

Brian hummed. “Ah, you can take more than that.”

Before you could respond, he pushed a second thick finger in alongside the first, stretching your cunt open. You clamped your hand over your mouth to muffle the moan that tried to escape, your eyes squeezing shut as pleasure flooded through you. His fingers curled and pressed against your insides.

“Brian—hold on—”

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”

He fingered you irritatingly slowly, letting his knuckles push in and out rhythmically. You felt every bit of it—the stretch, the drag, the way his fingers curled and pressed against your walls with intent. Your eyes rolled back each time his knuckles sank back into you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Brian huffed. “Gonna stretch you out nice and slow, don’t you worry.”

“It feels good… really good—”

“You think Jeff could make you feel like this?” His fingers curled distinctly on each word, like he was making a point. “Think his fingers could do this?”

You let out a frustrated whine. “Can you not talk about another guy right now?”

Brian chuckled, “Sorry, hun. I just want you to know exactly who’s making you feel this good.”

You melted a little at the pet name. “You are,” you whispered.

“Yeah, I know,” he kissed your temple. “Let me hear how good it feels.”

He pumped his fingers a little faster, thrusting deeper and more thoroughly than before, the wet squelching sounds of his hand working between your legs filling the small room. You moaned openly now, unable to hold your voice back, your hips rocking back to meet every movement as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your core.

Brian’s free hand left the warmth under your shirt and moved behind you. You heard the clink and shuffle of his belt buckle coming undone, followed by the sound of his zipper. A fresh rush of anxiety hit you as he shoved the front of his jeans down against your ass, then pushed his boxers down too. Something hot, heavy, and wet pressed against your bare skin. You felt him grip himself, tapping the thick head of his cock against your ass a couple of times.

Your hand flew back, gripping his hip tightly.

“Wait— Brian, wait a minute,” you panted.

He tugged his fingers from your insides, taking to steadying you instead with his hand on your hip. “What’s the matter?”

You looked back over your shoulder at him. Your eyes trailed down his body—the strong shoulders, the defined chest, the sharp V-line and happy trail that led lower—and then you saw it.

Oh my god.

He was long. Nauseatingly. Thick enough to match the rest of his tall, toned frame. The flushed red tip glistened with pre and throbbed against your skin. It looked intimidating resting against your ass.

You faced forward again, whispering under your breath, “Oh my god…”

Brian made a funny “ahh” sound, like he understood immediately what was troubling you.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “If I’m gonna fuck you, it’s gonna be in a much better setting than this dusty old room.”

You felt a strange little pang of disappointment in your chest. You turned your head slightly, wanting to say something, but decided against it.

Brian noticed anyway. “What’s wrong?”

You stayed quiet. After a second, he let out another soft “ahhh,” like the realization had clicked. You wanted to flog him for saying “ahh” more than once at a time like this.

“I know what you like,” he murmured.

He pushed his flat hand on your back, guiding you to lean further over the dryer. You braced your hands on the cool metal as he tapped the thick head of his cock against your skin again, then angled it downward.

You opened your mouth to say “wait,” but Brian was already moving.

He slid the hot length of his cock between the gap in your thighs, pressing it up firmly against your soaked cunt from below. The thick shaft nestled perfectly between your folds, the head nudging out past your clit.

“Fuck… do you feel that?” Brian breathed against the back of your neck as he leaned over you. “Haha, you’re gonna kill me.”

He rolled his hips again, letting the thick length of him slide back and forth between your thighs, rubbing right against your clit with every pass. Paired with the slickness of you, it felt maddening.

Brian groaned happily. “That’s it… Here, here. Press your thighs together a bit more. Yeahh, like that.”

You did as you were told, and it pushed Brian’s cock against your cunt more firmly. The two of you sighed, holding onto anything and everything to stabilize yourselves as Brian began to shallowly fuck your thighs. The head of his cock would catch on your clit, then push through the front of your thighs, before retreating right back in.

You moaned as Brian’s fingertips dug into your hips, tugging you back against him with every pass. The friction of his cock sliding between your thighs and against your soaked cunt was driving you crazy.

“Fuck, listen to you,” he pantsd. “Soaking my cock like this… You’d love it if I just pushed into you right now, huh?”

You gave a little “yeah, yeah” pushing back against him. But you felt his pace falter and his hips turn a bit like he was reaching for something behind him. You turned to look over your shoulder, just to see Brian had fished out his camcorder and was turning it on.

You turned your head away quickly. “Brian—”

“Shh. I wanted to document all of tonight,” he muttered, flipping the screen open. He watched as the screen lit up and started recording. “This is arguably the most important moment.”

You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t stop him. Instead, you bent forward a little more over the dryer, arching your back and pushing your ass out toward him.

Brian groaned in approval. He kept one hand on the camcorder, angling it down to capture the sight of his cock sliding between your thighs, while his other hand returned to your hip. He started thrusting again, slower this time, letting the wet head of his cock drag along your folds and bump against your clit with every pass.

The new angle made your ass slap softly against his pelvis with each bump of his hips, a little rhythmic pat-pat-pat that filled the room alongside your shaky breaths.

“Goddamn… look at that,” Brian muttered. “On the camera it looks like I’m actually fucking you. Hnn, I wish I was inside you right now.”

You moaned louder, arching your back even more so the tip of his cock bumped harder against your clit on every thrust. 

“You want that?” he played at the thought. “Just say the word and I’ll fuck you right here, hun.”

Filthy promises. Filthy promises that made your stomach flip over on itself.

“I think… I think I want to cum,” you whimpered, each thrust punching the words from your mouth.

You could hear him smile as he spoke, “That works too.”

He pulled the camcorder away from where he’d been filming your ass and reached around in front of you, setting it on the top of the dryer before you. The lens pointed directly at your torso and below. The little red recording light blinked rhythmically, capturing it all.

You suddenly felt very embarrassed about your compromising position. You brought both hands up to cover your face when you felt your cheeks begin to burn.

Brian didn’t like that much.

He caught your wrists and pulled them down, folding your arms behind your back. You felt his strong hand come to grasp your wrists, contorting your arms behind you. His other hand returned to your hip, an iron grip pressing into your skin as he fucked your legs.

You moaned out loud, pulling weakly against his grip, but it was useless. He was so much stronger than you. You wondered if anyone could hear the noises you were making, or at least the tink, tink of Brian’s belt buckle hitting against the back of your thighs every time he thrusted. Probably. The thought made your face burn even hotter.

Fuck… you were gonna cum.

You looked down between your pressed-together legs, watching the flushed, drooling tip of Brian’s cock thrust back and forth, breaching between your thighs before retreating back in. The sight was obscene. You couldn’t stop staring.

How did it look on camera? You thought through your dizzy haze. Was the lens catching your face right now? Would they be able to see your mouth falling open? Or how badly you were shaking? You couldn’t stop. Would Brian watch this back later? Would he jerk himself off to it in his room, replaying the sounds you made? Would he show it to Tim? To Toby? Would he use it as blackmail against you someday?

The thought should have horrified you.

It didn’t.

If it felt this good without him even fucking you yet… you’d probably let him do whatever he wanted.

Brian must have noticed how lost you were in your own head, because he suddenly wrapped both arms around your middle, hugging your body tight against his chest. The warmth of him surrounded you completely.

“Look at me,” he murmured.

You turned your head, and the moment you did, he caught your lips in a hungry kiss. Your arms were trapped between your back and his torso, feeling the flex and tension of his muscles as he moved. You pushed your hands lower, sliding them down until your fingers brushed the trail of hair on his pelvis, then wrapped around the thick base of his cock.

Brian hissed sharply against your mouth, his hips stuttering for a moment at your touch.

You could feel how wet he was—his length soaked from sliding between your folds, practically pulsing in your grip. He was rock hard.

“You feel how hard I am for you?” he smiled.

You nodded frantically, squeezing the base of his cock as he started thrusting between your thighs again, and now thrusting into your hand. The grip let you angle him so the head of his cock rubbed right against your clit directly instead of bumping it as it passed. Brian’s arms tightened around you, holding you up as your legs started to shake.

“If you keep doing that…” he panted, “I’m gonna cum. Yeah. Yeah, I’m gonna cum.”

You didn’t stop. You couldn’t. The pressure was too much, too good. Your climax snuck up on you suddenly, crashing over you without warning.

Your eyes clamped shut as your body went limp in his arms. Your walls clenched pitifully around nothing, pulsing as waves of pleasure ripped through you. You rode the length of his cock desperately, grinding your clit against him as you couldn’t do much more than whine.

Brian grunted, “Me too—me too, fuck—show the camera, hun. Tell ‘em how good you feel.”

You gasped, barely able to form words as your orgasm rolled through your muscles. “I’m cumming—Brian, I’m cuu-cumming—” you babbled. “Feels so good—oh god—mmhn—”

“Yeah, you are,” his words were slurred a bit. “I can feel it. Fuuuck, I feel you throbbing—”

His hips could barely stutter forward anymore. He hurriedly reached over and grabbed the towel you’d used earlier, pressing it against your thighs right where the head of his cock kept popping out between them.

“Gonna cum—” that was all the warning you got.

You felt him throb against you. Then he was spilling thick ropes of cum into the towel as he buried his hips as firmly as he could against your ass. His fingers dug into the skin of your waist, branding into your muscles.

You felt the warm stickiness of his cum press against the front of your thighs, soaking into the towel.

It felt like an eternity before Brian’s arms around you eventually loosened, and when they did, your legs gave out. You slumped forward, bracing yourself against the dryer with both hands as you lost all the strength you previously had.

Brian chuckled and reached past you to grab the camcorder. You blindly fumbled for it first, shutting the screen and ending the recording before he could think to capture anything else embarrassing of you. He took the device from your hand and set it aside, then grabbed a fresh towel from the stack of laundry. He was gentle as he cleaned you up, making sure to wipe the mess from between your thighs, along your skin, careful not to press too hard where you were still sensitive. Once you were clean, he took care of himself, wiping the bits of cum and your arousal from his cock and lower stomach before tossing the dirty towel aside.

You tried to push yourself upright, but Brian’s hands were already on your thighs and tugging your panties and jeans back up your legs. He helped you wiggle lthem over your hips before spinning you around to face him. He pressed your hips back against the dryer, caging you in with his body like he had before.

“Fuck you,” you muttered, though there was no real heat behind it.

Brian just smiled his little crooked smile that showed the little gap between his front teeth and reached down to zip and button your jeans for you. He cupped your jaw as he tilted your face up to his. He kissed you again, slower to savor the moment, or maybe something dumb like that.

“Thank you,” he hummed.

You blinked up at him, a little dazed. Then you reached behind you, grabbed the camcorder, and handed it back to him. Brian took it with a nod and slid it into his back pocket. “This will come in handy later.”

You rolled your eyes, but your gaze dropped to his shoulder and ribs. The fresh bandages you’d put on him were already blooming with red stains, the cuts having restarted their bleeding due to all the jostling and movement.

“Fuck, Brian,” you hissed, reaching out to gently touch the edge of one bandage that was peeling up a little. “They’re bleeding again.”

He glanced down at himself, then back up at you with an unrepentant grin.

“I didn’t want to stop,” he said simply with a shrug.

Now that your senses were starting to come back online, you could hear the music had restarted in the living room. Underneath it was the dull rumble of conversation, people laughing and shouting like the fight outside had already been forgotten and their quarrels were set aside.

You pressed off the dryer, testing the steadiness of your legs before deciding they were usable. Brian reached down and grabbed his torn shirt and blood-stained jacket off the floor. He pulled them over his head and cringed, the dried blood making the fabric stiff and uncomfortable against his fresh bandages.

“Someone definitely heard us,” you grumbled, smoothing your own shirt down.

Brian waved you off. “C’mon now. Nobody would care anyway.”

He reached for the door handle, cracked it open, and peeked out first. Then he let out a very dry laugh.

You felt the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

Brian looked out at whoever was there and said, “How long have you been here for?”

Oh god.

A familiar voice answered from the hallway. “Long enough.”

Tim. Of course it was Tim. These two couldn’t stand to be more than ten feet apart at any given time.

“Somebody had to stand guard out here and make sure you didn’t get walked in on.”

Brian glanced over his shoulder at you, then opened the door wider so you could see each other. You gave an awkward little wave, wanting very much to disappear at this moment. Tim had his arms crossed, leaning against the opposite wall of the door. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes looked as bored and flat as ever.

You felt like you were about to get scolded, but instead Tim looked at Brian and said, dry as bone, “Only you’re allowed to touch, huh?”

Brian grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh c’mon man, you know I’ll always put out for you.”

Tim huffed a laugh and shook his head, pushing off the wall. You and Brian walked out and fell into step with him. You walked between them, standing just like when you went out looking for them earlier tonight. 

You glanced up at Tim. “How’s Toby?”

“Threw up about twice. He’s somewhere with his little posse now. Probably getting babied.”

“And Jeff?”

“Jack’s relocating his nose downstairs,” Tim said flatly. “Might be a while.”

You shook your head. “Everyone should make those two clean up everything by themselves. Since they wanted to make more of a mess.”

Brian nodded beside you, his arm sliding around your shoulders as you walked. You turned your head to see him digging into his back pocket and pull out the camcorder, shaking it lightly toward Tim.

“And I’ve got a fun idea for a movie Tim should watch later,” he said, grinning.

Tim’s eyes narrowed, “I’m not watching your porno.”

“C’mon. You know… for posterity.”

You elbowed him, but not without smiling a little too.

Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are appreciated!

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