#!carterpara

uh-muse-me

Damon could not believe he had let a co-worker slip him alcohol…he also could not believe that the coffee concoction (or concoctions) he was given could taste so good even with alcohol in them.  He had attributed the burn in his throat to the heat of the coffee, which was actually well-prepared for once (though still not nearly as good as when Carter made it).

Damon nearly walked into the wall for about the fifth time that evening.  He flung out a hand to steady himself, casting his eyes about in search of his lover, who had gone to the restroom quite some time ago (and by “quite some time” he meant long enough to trip over nonexistent obstacles on the floor and make an utter fool of himself).  The only thing the professor wanted was to take his gorgeous lover and go home.  Upon spotting the object of his undying affections, he stumbled over to the younger man, pulling him in for a hug.  “We need to leave.”

Carter hadn’t been a lot of attention to the coffee cup in Damon’s hands, since it was a regular site. It hadn’t even occurred to him to wonder if there had been alcohol added. He’d never seen Damon drink so much as a glass of wine.  But clearly, by the way Damon was clinging to him in public, the professor had imbibed. Whether or not by choice was another matter. 

Damon licked his lips and stepped forward, tilting Carter’s chin up for a kiss.  “Only half naked?  Certainly not.”  Another kiss.  “I want you completely naked in our foyer so I can warm you up in our shower.”  

They were supposed to be ‘bonding’.  Ever since Carter and Damon had “scarred him for life”, Carter’s roommate had been bugging him to hang out, claiming that he owed him a least a bottle of Tequila for being subjected to the torture. Carter thought he just wanted free alcohol.  Regardless, it was a chance to let off steam with his friend, and he was definitely up for that.

They spend the better part of the evening drinking and shooting the shit before turning on some inane movie that they snarked most of the way through. However, the drunker Carter got, it seemed, the hornier he got. And the more he talked about Damon. Until his roommate tossed the phone at him and begged him to just call his boyfriend already and put them both out of their misery.  That was the best idea his roommate had all night.

Fucking hell. Carter was not only running late, he was drenched. A completely unexpected rainstorm caught him on the way to his professor's apartment. By the time he was standing in his professor's hallway, he resembled an out of breath, drowned rat. Carter checked his watch and sighed. It was just a few minutes past the appointed time. He knocked and then stood back a little to shake his damp hair out of his eyes.