“Yeah, he just needs a place to rest for a minute. Beer pong did him in.” Wes shrugged. Kept Justin close, trying to hide his wandering hands.
“He going to be sick?”
“Nah. He just needs a cooldown. Someplace quiet for a bit.”
“I got ya.” He pointed. “End of the hall. Bedroom there is nice and private.”
“Thanks.” Wes practically shoved Justin down the hall, squeezing his fingers tight to keep them from unzipping Wes’s fly. How did Justin end up with so many damn hands when he was tipsy?
He got them into the dark bedroom and the door shut before Justin turned and flew into his arms. He tasted like beer, and he giggled when he kissed Wes.
“How drunk are you?” Wes asked, peppering Justin’s lips and cheeks with kisses. “I don’t want to do this if you’re drunk.”
“I’m tipsy, not drunk,” Justin said. He pantomimed a field sobriety test, perfectly touching his nose and balancing on one foot. Then he wrapped himself around Wes. “I miss you all the time. I want you all the time.” Justin moved his body against Wes’s like they were dancing, or like Justin was dancing, at least.
Wes stood stock-still, not knowing how to move or what to do. “God, I want you all the time, too.” It was like an itch he could never scratch, a thirst he could never quench. He ached for Justin, and no matter how many times he jacked off thinking about Justin, or remembering being inside Justin, he still couldn’t calm himself down. He was like a live wire, a gun ready to fire, every moment. One look from Justin and he was half hard, right in the middle of campus.
“We’ve been so good, haven’t we?”
“I think so.”
“We’re at a frat party. Don’t people hook up at frat parties? Sneak off and fuck in bedrooms?”
“I don’t know. I never have.”
“Neither have I.” Justin reached for his fly. “Let’s do it together. What do you say?”
He guided Justin backward until his knees hit the mattress. Justin plopped down, grinning and undoing Wes’s fly as Wes undid Justin’s. They moved fast, almost frantic.
He peeled Justin’s jeans down his thighs, then pushed his legs straight back so he could bury his face in Justin’s ass. Justin covered his mouth, trying to stifle his moans as Wes French-kissed his hole until it was soaked with his spit. He fingered Justin quickly, trying to push more spit inside him.
“Nightstand,” Justin gasped. “Lotion.”
God bless frat boys. He grabbed the bottle and squeezed way too much into his palm, then ran it all over his cock and fingered some into Justin. He got his pants down and crawled onto the mattress. Maneuvered Justin’s legs, still tangled in his jeans, together over his right shoulder.
“This is going to be quick,” he warned.
“I’m ready.” Justin cock was hard and leaking, purple in the dim light of the bedroom. “I can’t believe we’re doing this. I’m already about to come.”
“Me, too.” Wes lined up and pushed, and he slid inside Justin with lotion-slick ease. Justin grabbed his biceps. His calves tightened. Wes kissed his denim-covered leg, buried his face against Justin’s knee. “Tell me when.”
“Now. Give it to me.”
It was hard and fast, Wes pounding Justin harder than he ever had. The mattress squeaked as Justin’s ass bounced up and down on his cock. Justin’s mouth opened in a silent wail, and he reached for his own cock, stroked once, twice, and then came, curling over himself and biting his lip as he tried to muffle his moan. Justin’s quick orgasm sent Wes over the edge, and he buried himself inside Justin and exploded. He tipped forward, almost falling on top of Justin, bending him in half.
Justin kissed him, hot, wet, and slow, as Wes softened. He panted against Justin’s lips.
“I can’t believe we did that.” Wes brushed his nose against Justin’s. He pulled out gently and grabbed a tissue from the nightstand for Justin. Justin wiped himself off, then pulled up his briefs and his jeans as Wes tucked himself back into his Wranglers.
For a moment, it felt like they were just a normal college couple, like they didn’t have to hide. Wes’s heart lurched. In the bedroom, they could pretend to be normal. He could kiss Justin and hold his hand, savor the naughtiness of sneaking away. But as soon as they walked out that door…
What if he just kept holding Justin’s hand?
No, he couldn’t. But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to.