Chapter Text
Robby really hadn't meant for any of this to happen.
There was a bassline throbbing distant in the house, the buzz of a party on the floor below, and yet the room they were in was dark, quiet, private. The only light was the dim glow of a lava lamp on the dresser directly in front of where Robby was sitting, the purple wax erupting into oozing globs every time he glanced at it, and it illuminated two things: one, a giant tapestry of The White Album hung behind the dresser; two, the bobbing head of the man between Robby's legs, the one who currently had Robby's cock down his throat.
It had been an accident, but not the sort of accident where it was like he'd slipped and stuck his dick in a stranger. If he could have rewound time thirty minutes or so, there was a very good chance that this outcome never would have occurred, and yet somehow it had. The stranger flattened his tongue against the underside of Robby's cock and hollowed his cheeks, Robby sure he was getting the soul sucked out of him and tightening his grip on the man's dark brown curls in response.
Somewhere below them a fucking Bush song began to play and Robby squeezed his eyes closed, wishing he'd retained the dignity of a half hour ago even as the stranger slid a calloused hand up the inside of Robby's bare thigh, a thrill shooting through his entire body at the touch.
Robby hated move-in weekend. The bustle of the campus, the overwhelming amount of parents dropping their kids off and freshman wandering around looking lost, the incessant house parties of returning students; it all made for the sort of noise that drove Robby near out of his skull. The worst part was that the path from the campus library where he worked to his apartment took him straight through the densest area of student housing; he had no choice but to walk through it every night.
During the summer, when there had been hardly any students and the campus was dead, that was fine. Now, as the semester started and the Pennsylvania summer began to turn into fall, Robby had already passed three house parties and he’d barely gotten off campus at all. Thank God for his Walkman, the tinny sound of Anthony Kiedis keeping him focused as he turned down a side street to take a shortcut he normally used.
A house on the right that Robby kind of thought was a frat but also kind of thought was just a typical bachelor pad was lit up like a Christmas tree and even over his headphones – which weren’t exactly noise-cancelling – he could hear a steady thrum of some pop song that he vaguely recognized. He put his head down, intent on getting home and finally getting some sleep, and was halfway past the place when he realized out of the corner of his eye that there was a guy laying on the front lawn.
Robby paused, looking over towards the guy to see if he was okay and making out the steady rise and fall of his chest even in the dark. Breathing didn’t mean conscious, though, and Robby reached into the back pocket of his jeans and paused his cassette, pushing his headphones down onto his neck. “Hey,” he called. “Are you okay?”
The guy pushed himself up onto his elbows, squinting at Robby in the dark. It was hard to tell but he looked a little younger than Robby, his hair dark and curly, the look on his face the sort of look that was almost a shit-eating grin but not quite. “Mr. Good Samaritan, huh? Do you always check on strange dudes laying around on lawns?”
“What the fuck do you want me to say?” Robby asked, regretting now that he had stopped. “I don’t usually find ‘strange dudes’ laying on lawns, so I don’t have a metric to go by. If you don’t need my help, then I’ll just keep walking, right?” He put his headphones back on and turned to leave, only for the guy to throw what turned out to be a hacky sack at Robby and hit him in the arm. “Come on.”
“You come on,” the guy said. “You want a beer?”
“Not particularly,” Robby said.
“Weed?”
“Why are you just offering me shit?”
The guy tilted his head to one side, flexing his fingers in the grass of the lawn. Robby was surprised that he hadn’t already walked away, but there was something about the stranger’s cocksure attitude that had him rooted in place. “Because you stopped to check on me,” he said like it was the most obvious thing. “Can I have my hacky sack back?”
Robby stooped to pick it up and went to throw it, the guy putting a hand up to stop him. “Hand it back to me.”
“This seems like a set-up.”
“It’s not, I swear,” the guy said. “I’m too drunk to catch it.”
Robby didn’t really believe him but he sighed nonetheless, pushing his headphones back down and walking onto the lawn. He held out his right hand, the hacky sack in his grasp, and wasn’t entirely surprised when the guy grabbed his wrist and yanked him down onto the lawn. He was surprisingly strong but Robby, who’d been expecting some kind of subterfuge, was able to break his fall with his left hand, hitting his knees next to the stranger and frowning at him. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I told you, I’m drunk,” the guy said, flopping back on the lawn and stretching his arms above his head. Robby took the opportunity to really look at him now that he was closer, the lights flooding from the porch of the house illuminating the stranger quite clearly. The guy was honestly verging on ginger, a red undertone to his dark brown hair, and it was abundantly clear that he was naturally curly, ringlets falling over his forehead where his gel had lost its hold. His pale face was speckled with freckles, his lips surprisingly full for a guy, and he had a funny quirk of leaving his mouth slightly parted, his teeth ever so slightly on display. Dressed in jeans, a university football shirt, and a blue checkered flannel button-down, his fashion was a mirror of Robby’s, who was wearing basically the same thing except he had pulled a green fleece on over his university shirt when he’d left work.
The most striking thing about the guy was not his looks or his hair or even the pale expanse of his throat; rather, it was the way he was looking up at Robby from where he was laying on the grass. Eyes half-closed, he was looking at Robby like a predator might when confronted with a particularly juicy meal. “What?” Robby asked, suddenly self-conscious.
It wasn’t like Robby was hard on the eyes. Taller than the guy, a little broader in the shoulder, Robby had kept his hair longer and had grown out a beard over the past year after a girl had told him it looked better. There was no reason he should have been so ultra-aware of how the guy was looking at him and yet he still was, mostly because the only other time he’d seen someone looking at him with those eyes was at the gay bar the next town over.
“Am I not allowed to look at my Good Samaritan?” the guy asked, reaching down to scratch at his stomach; in doing so, he pulled up the front of his shirt just slightly, revealing a strip of pale stomach dotted with freckles and with surprisingly little hair. Robby realized too late he was very clearly fixated on that little bit of flesh and pulled his gaze away from it but the damage was done; the stranger had pushed himself back up on one elbow and was staring at Robby intently. “Seems like my Good Samaritan is allowed to look at me.”
“Sorry,” Robby said, putting a hand down so he could get to his feet, only for the guy to cover his hand in the grass. Robby flicked his eyes up and found that the stranger was looking at him intently. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah. This party is boring as hell which is why I was out here in the first place.” The guy leaned in, his breath hot over Robby’s ear. “Come on. I’ll suck your dick.”
“What if I wasn’t like that?” Robby asked, but he knew that as soon as he’d been pulled onto the grass and hadn’t fled it had sealed his fate. “And you’re drunk.”
“I’m not actually drunk,” the guy said. “I just said that so you would come over here.” He dug his fingers into Robby’s hand, grinning at him, and there was a crookedness to his smile that was entirely endearing. Robby had to admit that the guy was just his type, handsome and aware of it, and it made his stomach ache in a good way. “Last chance.”
“Okay,” Robby said, his mouth suddenly dry. “Uh, lead the way.”
“Come on, then,” the guy said, lurching to his feet and pulling Robby up with him. They made their way towards the house and Robby’s hunch that the stranger was shorter than him proved true, the guy about a half a foot shorter than Robby was although part of that was due to the heels on the hiking boots he was wearing. There was a guy smoking on the front porch but he barely looked up as Robby and the stranger approached, jerking his head once in greeting before turning back to his joint.
Entering the house was like entering a wall of sheer noise, the entire place booming with The Offspring, every room on the first floor seemingly packed with people. It was hot and loud and smelled like weed and booze, and Robby considered if getting his dick sucked was worth being in an environment that caused him so much anxiety. The stranger made a beeline right for the stairs, turning sideways to squeeze through the crowd, and Robby followed him, trying to remember the last time he’d hooked up with a guy. Hell, he didn’t think he’d ever really ‘hooked up’ before, most of his encounters having led to actual dates, and it was kind of thrilling.
He caught up to the guy on the stairs, glancing over his shoulder as they went to see if anyone was paying attention. They weren’t, too drunk or stoned or turned on to pay any heed to the two guys making their way upstairs, and Robby grabbed the stranger by the wrist. “”What’s your name?” he asked as they emerged upstairs, out of the thrum of the music, and the guy grinned at him.
“Don’t spoil it,” he said, pushing a door to their right open. He pulled Robby inside, kicking the door closed behind them and putting his free hand on the side of Robby’s neck, pulling him down. “You don’t need to know, do you?”
“I guess not,” Robby said, but he had barely gotten the words out of his mouth when he was pulled into a kiss so bruising that it almost genuinely hurt. The stranger’s fingers dug into the side of Robby’s throat, his tongue licking hard against Robby’s closed mouth, and Robby parted his lips obediently, raising his hands to grab the guy by the flannel. He hauled him closer, tongue sliding across the other man’s slickly, and a thrill shot through him when the guy grabbed him fully by the back of the neck like a kitten.
Robby pulled back slightly, pressing his forehead against the guy’s temple, his nose against his cheek. “Shit,” he whispered, realizing he was already hard, cock pressing uncomfortably against his jeans. He looked past the guy at the room they’d entered, thumb running over the collar of his flannel. “Is this your room?” he asked, unable to keep the skepticism out of his voice.
The guy looked over his shoulder, examining the room as well, and then looked back up at Robby. “Do I look like I like the Beatles?”
“Do you want me to answer that?” Robby asked, and the guy grinned.
“No, I guess not,” he said, pulling Robby down into another deep, hungry kiss. They stumbled backwards towards the bed and Robby only broke the kiss when he was pushed over, dropping on his ass onto the bed. He barely had time to react before the guy was on his knees in front of him, hands sliding up over Robby’s thighs. “You okay with doing this in a random bedroom?”
“I’ve already crossed the Rubicon,” Robby said, and the guy snorted before leaning in and kissing the inside of one of Robby’s denim-clad thighs. He slid his hand up the other thigh, fingers dragging over the waist of Robby’s jeans before he brought his face to his crotch, kissing at the outline of his cock through the fabric. “Do you have any shame at all?”
“No, or I wouldn’t have pulled a guy off the street to suck his dick,” the guy said, taking hold of Robby’s fly with his teeth and tugging them down in a way; it was clear he had done it before and it turned Robby on even more, one of his hands going to the man’s hair, his thumb running over his temple. The guy put both hands on Robby’s jeans and hauled them down, grinning at the sight of his navy boxer briefs, a wet spot already forming where the tip of his cock lay. “Fuck. You’re excited, huh?”
“Are you not?” Robby asked, heat flooding up over his neck and ears as he looked down into the man’s hazel eyes.
“Put your foot down here and see,” he said, slipping a hand up the left leg of Robby’s underwear, his fingers brushing against the base of Robby’s cock. Robby stepped up to the challenge, pressing the toe of his right boot against the man’s crotch gently and feeling the telltale swell there. “You can step on me harder if you want.”
“Jesus,” Robby said, laughing in surprise. “Are you sure you aren’t drunk?”
“I’m always like this,” he said. “Lift your ass a bit so I can get your underwear off.”
Robby, once again, inexplicably obeyed. He raised his hips and put his hands over the other man’s, the pair of them forcing his underwear down together, and the guy immediately took hold of Robby’s cock. He ran his hand along the length of it, his eyes growing infinitely more intense as he was faced what he had clearly set out to have. Before Robby could say anything else the guy had swallowed down around his cock, his tongue laving over the glans and down the shaft, his tip almost in the back of the guy’s throat.
Robby whimpered, unable to help himself, and it seemed to bolster the man, who began to move his head steadily, his right hand gripping Robby’s thigh for purchase. Somewhere downstairs a Bush song began to play and Robby pressed his toes harder against the guy’s cock, rewarded by the man pushing his hips up into the pressure. After a moment the guy tapped Robby’s boot and he thought for a moment he’d gone too hard, moving it to the side; the moment he did, the guy undid his own jeans and began jacking himself off.
“Holy shit,” Robby managed, his toes curling in his boots. The guy pulled back just enough to smile up at him, his lips redder than they had been, a string of spit connecting his lips to Robby’s cock. Robby was stricken by an intense desire to kiss him again but the guy was clearly enjoying himself, swallowing down around him again, nose almost pressed into Robby’s dark pubes.
Robby knew he wasn’t going to last all that much longer, tightening his grip on the man’s hair. It had been one hell of a dry spell, and maybe that had made him a little more susceptible to random guys offering to suck his dick on the side of the road. Still, he hadn’t anticipated the guy being so good at it. He was skilled with his tongue, his throat; he could take it pretty deep without gagging; he was making this noise, soft and wanting, that made Robby want to push it further.
He pulled the guy off roughly, tilting his head back and dropping his hand to his cock. “I’m close,” he said by way of explanation, and the guy responded by sticking out his tongue. He looked Robby dead in the eyes, still stroking his own cock, and it was one of the hottest things Robby could remember ever seeing. He came with a muffled cry, tilting the man’s head back and watching his cum streak over the guy’s extended tongue, cheek, eyelashes. The man squinted up at him and Robby couldn’t help himself now, leaning down and kissing him hard on the mouth. It was salty with the taste of himself and he felt the guy shudder against him, something warm hitting his calf and dripping down the side of his leg.
Robby would have fucked him right then and there if the door handle hadn’t shaken. “What the fuck?” someone said loudly on the other side. “This door’s always fucking sticking.” A louder slam followed, the person on the outside clearly kicking the door in frustration, and Robby’s partner grinned up at him, breathing hard. He pressed a finger to his lips, listening, before dragging himself to his feet using Robby’s thighs as leverage.
“Thanks for that,” he said, tucking himself back into his jeans. “If you hurry, you can probably get out of here before he comes back. It’ll take him a bit to figure out that we had it locked.”
“Where are you going?” Robby asked, getting to his feet and nearly taking a step before realizing he was still naked from the waist down. He grabbed his underwear, hauling them up, and watched as the stranger wiped the cum off his face with the inside of his flannel.
“Home,” the guy said. “Uh, if you see me around campus, don’t make it weird, yeah?” He sucked his teeth and winked at Robby. “Nice cock, by the way.”
He was gone before Robby managed to get his pants on, the door clicking closed behind him, and Robby stared blankly after him before realizing he was standing in a stranger’s bedroom where he could be caught at any minute. “Fuck,” he mumbled, running a hand through his dark hair before making sure he had his Walkman and leaving the room. As he made his way through the throng downstairs, the speakers now blasting Whitney Houston, he caught a glimpse of the guy’s curly hair, his arms now around a girl’s shoulders, and wondered if he would kiss her, wonder if she would come away with the taste of Robby on her lips.