Title: Tequila and Dark Corners
Author:
fluffygremlinPairings: Trevor Evans/Kyle Durant
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: none
Word Count: 1,849
Summary: Trevor went to the dark bar to forget about Mike Ross and found someone else who had done the same.
Authors Note: Written, in part, for
starskeeper in honor of her Ben Hollingsworth spams.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned people who are NOT me. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended and no money is being made.
Trevor is on his fourth beer when the empty stool beside him at the bar is suddenly full of a shorter man in an expensive suit. He bites back annoyance as the dark haired man orders three tequilas and a beer.
“Rough day?” he asks conversationally, still staring ahead at the television broadcasting sports scores behind the bar.
“Rough year,” the man responds. He tosses a large bill at the bartender and downs two shots without so much as a grimace. Trevor looks sideways at him and watches the way the man’s bottom lip catches on the beer bottle after he takes a long drag of beer to wash down the liquor.
“I guess so,” Trevor says with a slight chuckle. The man glances over him and smirks when he meets Trevor’s eyes. His curly hair is unruly, likely caused by the wind that had been buffeting the city for days, but his chin is 8am smooth and his eyes are bright under the neons.
The newcomer downs his third shot and they finish their beers in a companionable silence that strangers can only ever achieve with alcohol to smooth the way. Trevor catches the man’s eye randomly and can’t help the smile that begins to spread across his face each time. The man waves down the bartender again and order two beers, turning to face Trevor head on once they arrive.
“Kyle,” he says, holding one of the beers out. Trevor turns and accepts it with a nod of thanks, taking an almost demure sip before reciprocating the introduction. He sees the way Kyle’s eyes watch the way his lips wrap around the top of the bottle and intentionally licks his lower lip when he pulls it away.
“So, Kyle,” he says, shifting to lean against the bar slightly, “What’s a guy like you getting trashed in a bar like this for?”
“Work is stressful. Girl troubles. Boy troubles. My boss has a Napoleon complex. Too many of my coworkers are attractive assholes. The economy is in the shitter. Which one would you like to start with?” Kyle’s leg moves to press against Trevor’s as he leans forward slightly to be heard clearly in the crowded bar. “How about you?” Trevor only sighs and takes a drink.
“My best friend dumped me and then my girlfriend dumped me and now I’m pretty sure they’re fucking behind my back,” he says.
“As opposed to fucking in front of you?” Kyle asks. Trevor looks at him with surprise before shrugging.
“He’s my oldest friend and now he’s apparently too good for me.” He turns to look out into the throng of people that surround them and feels rather than sees Kyle lean in closer.
“So, in other words, you were in this weirdly erotic codependent threesome and now you’ve been rendered obsolete.” Kyle huffs out a laugh, the warm air brushing over Trevor’s ear. Trevor turns back to him as he pulls away. “Let me buy you a few more drinks.”
--------------------------------------------------
Trevor is halfway to blitzed when Mike’s name finally slips through his lips. He’s been focused on forgetting the other man, if only for one night, but when Kyle eventually tells him that he’s a lawyer he just can’t help himself.
“Mike’s a lawyer,” he says with a grunt after finishing another shot. Kyle’s light eyes go wide.
“Mike? Mike Ross?” Trevor nods dumbly before something clicks in his brain. He sets his beer down a little harder than usual and pushes in closer to the man at his side.
“Mike Ross is the guy you work with that you’re pretty sure is boning his boss? The guy who has a thing for skinny ties that you want to knock down a few pegs, with a good, hard fucking if possible? Mike Ross, blond hair, blue eyes, looks like he wears lipstick, and can remember anything and everything?” Kyle looks at him in shock for a moment before he cracks up with laughter, one hand moving to rest on Trevor’s shoulder to steady himself. He seems to sober up just as quickly.
“Was your ex named Jenny?” he asks and it’s all Trevor can do to simply clench his jaw and turn away instead of shouting every expletive he’d ever learned taking the late night F train. He focuses on draining the last of his beer and flinches when Kyle’s hand slides down his back. “If it helps,” the other man says softly in his ear, “I’m pretty sure he’s not getting anywhere with her anytime soon.”
“Why do you say that?” Trevor asks, staring resolutely at the bottles of liquor lining the wall opposite them.
“Because,” Kyle whispers, “he was too busy the other night on our double date getting jealous that his coworkers are getting some and she noticed.”
“Jealous of you or jealous of who you’re ‘getting some’ from?” Trevor turns his head slightly and he can feel Kyle’s lips move as he answers.
“I’m not sure and it doesn’t really matter,” he says, “here and now.” Kyle pulls back again and Trevor turns to face him, starring into his pale eyes as the other man’s hand goes lower on his back until it rests just above his ass. “Does it?”
Trevor runs his eyes along Kyle’s sharp jaw and down his neck until he reaches the point where it disappears into his dress shirt. He reaches up and tugs on the man’s expensive tie, loosening it slightly so that more skin is exposed between the undone top button. Another tug and Kyle takes a step towards him, his knee pushing between Trevor’s thighs in a move to stay upright that has the added benefit of being very hot.
“Right now, I don’t care who Mike’s fucking or who’s fucking Mike.” Trevor shifts his weight so that his hips brush lightly against Kyle’s well-made suit. “So long as you don’t care about getting a little dirty.”
Kyle has the audacity to smirk at him as he sets his bottle of beer on the bar and takes a step back, Trevor’s hand slipping down his tie as he moves. Neither man says another word as they make their way towards the back of the bar. Trevor grabs Kyle’s wrist as they near the bathrooms and drags him towards the darkest corner of the room instead.
“OK then,” Kyle says, a chuckle turning into a hiss as Trevor leans forward to run his tongue along the same path down his neck his eyes had taken earlier. Trevor pushes against Kyle, his taller frame blocking the shorter man from view as hands begin to wander over cotton clothed chests. He’s pretty sure he pops one of the other man’s buttons when he undoes a few where the shirt is tucked into sleek black trousers.
“That’s it,” Trevor says as Kyle’s head drops back against the wall when Trevor rakes his nails over the other man’s abs. Trevor rotates his hips forward to get more friction on an erection fueled by alcohol and mutual frustrations, feeling Kyle’s answering hard on pressing against the restraint of his trousers. He groans into Kyle’s mouth when their lips finally meeting, tasting tequila and cheap beer when he runs his tongue along the roof of Kyle’s mouth, drawing out another moan that’s muffled by the music thumping around them.
Kyle’s hands pull Trevor’s shirt loose from his jeans and Trevor bites down on Kyle’s lips when thick fingers dip down below the waistband of his boxers. It only seems to encourage the shorter man as he digs his fingers into the top of Trevor’s ass, pulling him forward with a bruising grip.
“Oh hell no,” Trevor growls, reaching back to grab Kyle’s hands and pining them to the wall on either side of the other man’s hips. He grinds harder against the curly haired man, slipping his knee between the other man’s thigh so that he can press even closer, keeping control of the situation as Kyle moves against him.
“Make me come in my pants and I’ll sue you,” Kyle groans. Trevor only laughs darkly in his ear before biting at the soft spot beneath it.
“Do I strike you as someone who’s scared of a suit?” he asks, running his tongue over the bite mark and moaning when he tastes the sweat on the other man’s skin.
Kyle responds by pushing forward his own hips and tipping his head to the side to allow Trevor more access to his neck as they rut together against the filthy bar wall. Trevor bites along the strip of skin just above Kyle’s collar, spending time to run his tongue around his Adam’s apple before moving up to kiss the side of the other man’s mouth.
Their hips rotate together in the shadows and Kyle moves his head again to bite at Trevor’s lips before the taller man retakes control of the kiss. One of his hands comes up to tangle in Kyle’s curls, using the extra leverage to move his head to a more pleasing position. Kyle’s free hand moves to Trevor’s hip, pulling him forward with each thrust.
“Come on, come on, come on,” Trevor urges, not sure which one of them he’s talking to as he speeds up his movements and pushes against Kyle as firmly as he can bear. Kyle only grunts in response, panting against his mouth as he gives into the building heat and friction. Trevor watches the way Kyle’s eyes screw shut right before his hips start jerking out of sync. He moves the hand still holding one of Kyle’s wrists to the man’s crotch, reveling in the feel of wet heat he can feel pulsing under his fingertips.
The hand that slides along his own denim clad cock is enough to tip him over the edge. He pushes into it, Kyle’s grip on his hip encouraging him until they’re both panting and spent.
Kyle moves first, pushing Trevor’s hips away slightly so that he can tug at his trousers where his underwear is likely sticking to his skin.
“That’s just disgusting,” he says with a grimace. Trevor laughs against his shoulder.
“And hot,” Trevor says, straightening up. He’s tempted to agree with Kyle assessment and would have if it wasn’t for the fact that he was pleasantly blissed out, riding high on the tails of an orgasm he’d felt all the way to his toes. Kyle only shrugs at him.
“It was okay.” Trevor can see a challenge in the other man’s eye and wants to refuse to rise to the bait. It’s at that moment that Kyle runs the thumb of the hand previously pressed against Trevor’s cock along his lower lip and all Trevor can think about is giving in. He reaches into Kyle’s pocket and pulls out the cellphone he had felt earlier. Kyle watches as Trevor quickly types in his number before slipping it back into his trousers, the taller man letting his fingertips run along Kyle’s stomach as he leans in to whisper in his ear.
“Call me about that dry cleaning bill.”
Also available on AO3