you you you you kiss hey
what is this i don't even :(
Kevin/Eli drunk!fic, finished but horribly horribly un-proofread.
i suck at endings, fair warning.
It feels good to let go, even if it is just for one night. There's an unspoken agreement to not say a word about singing, dancing, schedules, even the other members. It's just Kevin, Eli, some soju, and the expensive vodka Eli refuses to admit the origin of. Kevin sips away at mixed drinks, his lips a deep red from the cranberry juice. Eli won't touch the stuff, and Kevin isn't sure how many straight shots he's taken with nothing but water as a chaser. They're both slumped on the ground, leaning against the front of the sofa with the bottle between them.
With their day jobs off limits as topics of conversation, there isn't a whole lot left to talk about. They swap a few stories about their time in the states, but even that tapers off quickly to a comfortably awkward silence. Eli tosses his head back with a shot, slams the glass down, and pulls a face.
"We should play a game or something." His words are slurring, or maybe Kevin just can't hear clear enough over the buzzing in his ears. "Like fucking... what do you call it? Never ever have I never?"
"Never ever have I ever," Kevin corrects automatically, the words feeling funny in his mouth. He thinks back to high school, parties where all his friends got trashed on shots for every kiss they'd had, blow-job received, hair dye job, and virginity lost. Kevin had gotten to drink once, because he'd been to a foreign country. "It'd be no fun with just two of us."
Eli snorts, nose wrinkling in concentration as he struggles to pour into his tiny shot glass without getting vodka all over the ground. "Fuck it. Let's call Xander or someone then."
Kevin whines in protest, taking another pull from his own glass. Eli glances up at him. "No? Yeah, you're right. The little fucker would just annoy the shit out of me. Can't stand him when I'm drunk."
"Don't swear," Kevin admonishes him with a scowl, but Eli is still talking, clumsily setting the vodka down. "Can't stand anybody when I'm drunk. Not really. I'm a mean drunk. I'll beat the shit out of him. Maybe. I don't know. I don't wanna see anybody right now."
Eyes locked on the floor, Kevin is quiet. Eli trails off, taking him in. "'Cept you," he adds after a moment's thought. "I never can't stand you."
"That makes no sense." Or maybe Kevin's just drunker than he thought.
But Eli laughs, reaching over to grab Kevin's drink. "Let me use it for a chaser."
Again Kevin whines a little in the back of his throat, but he surrenders his drink anyway. Eli ignores his shot though, instead taking a swig of the cranberry mix, thumbing the red away from his mouth. "Know what we could use right now, though? Some girls here or something, man. Just a nice coupla pairs of tits, you know?"
Kevin doesn't know, and he doesn't answer. He does steal Eli's shot though, and calls it revenge. The liquor burns going down, and he follows it with a sip of cranberry juice from the carton. When he's done, he sees that Eli's watching him. They stare at each other for a moment, and Kevin can feel his chest tighten almost imperceptibly, like someone turned one tiny screw in his breastbone.
Breasts. Shit. He grabs his drink back out of Eli's hand, glaring at him like it's his fault. Eli gives it up without a fight, still looking at Kevin very carefully, like he might explode.
"Hey. You- you don't even like tits, do you."
Kevin's eyes snap open wide, and he starts to answer, then realizes he's not even sure that was a question. He's frozen with his drink in his hand, almost afraid to move. What the fuck, what the fuck, his mind chants at him, but he can't say anything, just relaxes slightly back against the couch and closes his eyes.
"Knew it, man. Fucking knew it." Eli's voice is closer, much closer, and when Kevin peeks through one eye, he's scooted forward to hover just next to his left shoulder. "I don't care, dude, you know that? Doesn't bother me. So what, man. So fucking what."
He sounds agitated, so Kevin closes his eye again and pushes a sigh out through his nose. His fingers would be shaking if they weren't wrapped tight around his glass. As it is, it feels like his whole body's trembling. Maybe it's just his stomach, or his heart.
Eli's still working himself up, turning away from Kevin to grab blindly for a soju bottle, popping it open with a hiss. "Honestly, it doesn't even matter. Things like that shouldn't matter. It's you, so what. Who fucking cares. It's not like it changes anything fundamental about you." He's surprisingly articulate with his words, though his voice is slurring again. "Or rather, it is something fundamental about you. I guess. How would I know? Ha." He laughs, taking a swig, starting to sound slightly hysterical. "But, god, Kevin, I just want to, like, make out with a really hot girl. Or something. You have to feel the same way, right? I mean, you probably want to just make out with a really hot guy, but it's the same idea. Just to fucking feel something, you know? I mean, don't you just really want-"
"Hey." Kevin leans forward, grabs his wrist and frowns. "Just stop. Okay? Just don't talk for a minute."
They both go quiet, Eli flushed and embarrassed, before simultaneously going for their drinks. Eli gulps at his soju obnoxiously, but Kevin just takes a small sip of his, savoring the tang of the cranberry juice with the slight burn of the vodka. His throat feels tight, like his chest. Maybe it's just his whole body, it all feels itchy and wound up tight, like a spring.
There's a damp sheen of red over Kevin's lips, and one bead of juice threatening to fall from the top of his lip, he can feel it. Before he can wipe it clean with his tongue, Eli's slammed his soju bottle on the ground and taken Kevin's face in his hands, sweaty and shaking. "Kevin, Kevin man, fuck. Just- fuck." He makes a broken sound, then kisses him hard.
Eli's on his knees, leaning up over Kevin while he licks his mouth open, rough and insistent. Kevin thinks briefly about fighting him off- consequences, part of his mind still worries- but in the end he goes pliant and soft and lets Eli kiss him until they’re both breathless. After a moment or so Eli pulls away, dragging teeth over his bottom lip as he goes. Eli’s panting, but Kevin just breathes hard through his nose, screwing his eyes shut and swallowing hard.
Ignoring it is the best option, he rationalizes, just pretend it isn’t happening and either Eli will forget about it, or… or-
Or he’ll pull his hands from Kevin’s face, brushing lightly against his cheekbone, and move them down to fit against his sides instead. Kevin breathes in sharply, a small noise at the bottom of his throat. He’s still not looking, can’t look, as Eli leans in close, nudging his nose into the crook of his shoulder, pressing lips to Kevin’s throat. “Please,” he says softly, mouthing the word against his skin, repeating it. “Please. Please, let me-“ One hand creeps upwards to tilt Kevin’s face towards his own, the other strokes lightly at his side. Kevin lets him kiss him again, this time giving a soft moan, and reaching out to grab at Eli’s hips, tucking his thumbs into his belt loops.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Eli is repeating, dropping the word into Kevin’s mouth, warm and open against his. He suddenly pushes forward in a flurry of motion, pressing closer to nudge one knee between Kevin’s until he’s straddling his thigh. Kevin moans again, this is such a bad idea, but he can feel Eli hot and half-hard against his hip and he can’t bring himself to care.
Skating one hand upward, Kevin slides it under his shirt and splays it against his chest. Eli starts and jerks back, just a little, so their eyes meet across the gap. He looks scared, so scared that Kevin bites his lip and reaches with his other hand to cup Eli’s cheek, leaning forward to kiss at his jaw line. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, “’Just don’t think about it too hard.”
Somehow they end up on the sofa, Kevin spread out below Eli and shaking like a leaf. Eli makes what’s probably supposed to be a soothing noise, but he looks like such a mess himself that it loses its effect. It seems like Eli is content to just kiss mindlessly up and down Kevin’s jaw, but the way his hands keep creeping downward, and then back up to his face twice as quick makes Kevin think that maybe Eli just isn’t sure what else to do.
With the wry thought that, for once, he’s the one with the most experience, he shifts them until Eli’s sitting upright, Kevin balanced in his lap like he belongs there, though it’s very clear right now that he doesn’t. He almost wants to laugh at how awkward the whole thing is, except Eli’s hands are still gripped tight at his waist, and the way he’s holding on makes Kevin realize just how much Eli needs. So he leans in close to nudge at Eli’s ear, worry at it with his teeth, distract him while he moves one hand low and rubs between his legs with the heel of his hand.
Eli makes the choked noise of someone failing to hold in a moan, and then his breath catches, hands like a vise at Kevin’s sides. One of them is pulling slightly inward, like he’s debating whether to return the favor, but Kevin is almost afraid that that if Eli touched him, something inside him would break. Instead, he scoots back, works his way to the floor until he’s on his knees between Eli’s, one hand on his thigh and one on him, still rubbing just hard enough to keep that moan in his throat.
When he goes to undo the button at his fly, Eli suddenly catches his wrist with a shaky grip, and when Kevin looks up his eyes are wild. He rests his head against the inside of Eli’s thigh without breaking eye contact, heart pounding and trying to undo the knot in his chest. “Is this okay?” he asks it softly, not really a question.
“Mouth’s a mouth,” Eli mumbles, and glances to the side. He looks like he might be about to cry, and even though he probably isn’t, Kevin is almost hysterically charmed by the idea. His body feels far away as he unzips Eli’s jeans and slides them down his legs, licking at his lips and tasting cranberry juice and vodka. He chalks it up to the alcohol, how he suddenly feels like he knows exactly what he’s doing when he leans forward, closing his mouth around Eli and working him with his tongue until Eli finally gives up his moan, hips bucking forward just a little.
He’s not sure how long he’s there on his knees. It feels like forever with the feel of Eli clutching at his hair until it hurts, the taste of him in his throat, the swell of him on his tongue. Eli gets louder and louder as he gets closer and closer, and Kevin is hard as a fucking rock, wanting to rub at himself but too obsessed with the sounds Eli makes when he uses his hands just right. He glances up at one point; Eli’s eyes are shut, but the expression on his face is so painful to look at that Kevin has to close his own.
When Eli finally comes, marked with a sharp gasp, Kevin swallows it all because he knows it would be awkward to have to clean up. He pulls back, the back of one hand pressed to his mouth, breathing hard through his nose. Eli brings his own hands up to tangle fingers in his own hair, his eyes still shut. He makes a pained sound when he does open them, full and sad and looking straight at Kevin.
A moment passes silently, all of Kevin’s confidence drained away, and he kneels there, still hard in his jeans with his eyes locked on Eli’s. Then Eli moves, his arms falling back down and Kevin thinks briefly that he imagines him murmur quietly. “C’mere.”
He stands shakily, peeling off his jeans in such a rush that he almost trips, but Eli is leaning forward to grab his arm and tug him down to the couch. Kevin falls gratefully into Eli’s side, takes his own advice and tries not to think about it too hard as Eli wraps his arms tight around him and alternates kissing at his forehead and the corner of his mouth.
He strokes himself carefully- he doesn’t need much to go over the edge, so turned on that he thinks he may still die before the night is over. Eli rubs circles into his back, making that soothing noise again, except this time it actually helps Kevin relax, enough to tilt his hips up into the pull of his own hand. When he comes, he bites into Eli’s shoulder to muffle the noise he makes, then immediately apologizes just because he feels like he should.
The heat of the moment has passed, and now all Kevin feels is a steep drop in the pit of his stomach like he’s just made the biggest mistake of his life. Even so, it’s such a comfort to be able to slump against Eli’s side and shut his eyes, his whole body starting to go numb and fuzzy. The last thing he remembers feeling is how stiff Eli is against him as he drifts to sleep with the whole room pitching around him.
Kevin/Eli drunk!fic, finished but horribly horribly un-proofread.
i suck at endings, fair warning.
It feels good to let go, even if it is just for one night. There's an unspoken agreement to not say a word about singing, dancing, schedules, even the other members. It's just Kevin, Eli, some soju, and the expensive vodka Eli refuses to admit the origin of. Kevin sips away at mixed drinks, his lips a deep red from the cranberry juice. Eli won't touch the stuff, and Kevin isn't sure how many straight shots he's taken with nothing but water as a chaser. They're both slumped on the ground, leaning against the front of the sofa with the bottle between them.
With their day jobs off limits as topics of conversation, there isn't a whole lot left to talk about. They swap a few stories about their time in the states, but even that tapers off quickly to a comfortably awkward silence. Eli tosses his head back with a shot, slams the glass down, and pulls a face.
"We should play a game or something." His words are slurring, or maybe Kevin just can't hear clear enough over the buzzing in his ears. "Like fucking... what do you call it? Never ever have I never?"
"Never ever have I ever," Kevin corrects automatically, the words feeling funny in his mouth. He thinks back to high school, parties where all his friends got trashed on shots for every kiss they'd had, blow-job received, hair dye job, and virginity lost. Kevin had gotten to drink once, because he'd been to a foreign country. "It'd be no fun with just two of us."
Eli snorts, nose wrinkling in concentration as he struggles to pour into his tiny shot glass without getting vodka all over the ground. "Fuck it. Let's call Xander or someone then."
Kevin whines in protest, taking another pull from his own glass. Eli glances up at him. "No? Yeah, you're right. The little fucker would just annoy the shit out of me. Can't stand him when I'm drunk."
"Don't swear," Kevin admonishes him with a scowl, but Eli is still talking, clumsily setting the vodka down. "Can't stand anybody when I'm drunk. Not really. I'm a mean drunk. I'll beat the shit out of him. Maybe. I don't know. I don't wanna see anybody right now."
Eyes locked on the floor, Kevin is quiet. Eli trails off, taking him in. "'Cept you," he adds after a moment's thought. "I never can't stand you."
"That makes no sense." Or maybe Kevin's just drunker than he thought.
But Eli laughs, reaching over to grab Kevin's drink. "Let me use it for a chaser."
Again Kevin whines a little in the back of his throat, but he surrenders his drink anyway. Eli ignores his shot though, instead taking a swig of the cranberry mix, thumbing the red away from his mouth. "Know what we could use right now, though? Some girls here or something, man. Just a nice coupla pairs of tits, you know?"
Kevin doesn't know, and he doesn't answer. He does steal Eli's shot though, and calls it revenge. The liquor burns going down, and he follows it with a sip of cranberry juice from the carton. When he's done, he sees that Eli's watching him. They stare at each other for a moment, and Kevin can feel his chest tighten almost imperceptibly, like someone turned one tiny screw in his breastbone.
Breasts. Shit. He grabs his drink back out of Eli's hand, glaring at him like it's his fault. Eli gives it up without a fight, still looking at Kevin very carefully, like he might explode.
"Hey. You- you don't even like tits, do you."
Kevin's eyes snap open wide, and he starts to answer, then realizes he's not even sure that was a question. He's frozen with his drink in his hand, almost afraid to move. What the fuck, what the fuck, his mind chants at him, but he can't say anything, just relaxes slightly back against the couch and closes his eyes.
"Knew it, man. Fucking knew it." Eli's voice is closer, much closer, and when Kevin peeks through one eye, he's scooted forward to hover just next to his left shoulder. "I don't care, dude, you know that? Doesn't bother me. So what, man. So fucking what."
He sounds agitated, so Kevin closes his eye again and pushes a sigh out through his nose. His fingers would be shaking if they weren't wrapped tight around his glass. As it is, it feels like his whole body's trembling. Maybe it's just his stomach, or his heart.
Eli's still working himself up, turning away from Kevin to grab blindly for a soju bottle, popping it open with a hiss. "Honestly, it doesn't even matter. Things like that shouldn't matter. It's you, so what. Who fucking cares. It's not like it changes anything fundamental about you." He's surprisingly articulate with his words, though his voice is slurring again. "Or rather, it is something fundamental about you. I guess. How would I know? Ha." He laughs, taking a swig, starting to sound slightly hysterical. "But, god, Kevin, I just want to, like, make out with a really hot girl. Or something. You have to feel the same way, right? I mean, you probably want to just make out with a really hot guy, but it's the same idea. Just to fucking feel something, you know? I mean, don't you just really want-"
"Hey." Kevin leans forward, grabs his wrist and frowns. "Just stop. Okay? Just don't talk for a minute."
They both go quiet, Eli flushed and embarrassed, before simultaneously going for their drinks. Eli gulps at his soju obnoxiously, but Kevin just takes a small sip of his, savoring the tang of the cranberry juice with the slight burn of the vodka. His throat feels tight, like his chest. Maybe it's just his whole body, it all feels itchy and wound up tight, like a spring.
There's a damp sheen of red over Kevin's lips, and one bead of juice threatening to fall from the top of his lip, he can feel it. Before he can wipe it clean with his tongue, Eli's slammed his soju bottle on the ground and taken Kevin's face in his hands, sweaty and shaking. "Kevin, Kevin man, fuck. Just- fuck." He makes a broken sound, then kisses him hard.
Eli's on his knees, leaning up over Kevin while he licks his mouth open, rough and insistent. Kevin thinks briefly about fighting him off- consequences, part of his mind still worries- but in the end he goes pliant and soft and lets Eli kiss him until they’re both breathless. After a moment or so Eli pulls away, dragging teeth over his bottom lip as he goes. Eli’s panting, but Kevin just breathes hard through his nose, screwing his eyes shut and swallowing hard.
Ignoring it is the best option, he rationalizes, just pretend it isn’t happening and either Eli will forget about it, or… or-
Or he’ll pull his hands from Kevin’s face, brushing lightly against his cheekbone, and move them down to fit against his sides instead. Kevin breathes in sharply, a small noise at the bottom of his throat. He’s still not looking, can’t look, as Eli leans in close, nudging his nose into the crook of his shoulder, pressing lips to Kevin’s throat. “Please,” he says softly, mouthing the word against his skin, repeating it. “Please. Please, let me-“ One hand creeps upwards to tilt Kevin’s face towards his own, the other strokes lightly at his side. Kevin lets him kiss him again, this time giving a soft moan, and reaching out to grab at Eli’s hips, tucking his thumbs into his belt loops.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Eli is repeating, dropping the word into Kevin’s mouth, warm and open against his. He suddenly pushes forward in a flurry of motion, pressing closer to nudge one knee between Kevin’s until he’s straddling his thigh. Kevin moans again, this is such a bad idea, but he can feel Eli hot and half-hard against his hip and he can’t bring himself to care.
Skating one hand upward, Kevin slides it under his shirt and splays it against his chest. Eli starts and jerks back, just a little, so their eyes meet across the gap. He looks scared, so scared that Kevin bites his lip and reaches with his other hand to cup Eli’s cheek, leaning forward to kiss at his jaw line. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, “’Just don’t think about it too hard.”
Somehow they end up on the sofa, Kevin spread out below Eli and shaking like a leaf. Eli makes what’s probably supposed to be a soothing noise, but he looks like such a mess himself that it loses its effect. It seems like Eli is content to just kiss mindlessly up and down Kevin’s jaw, but the way his hands keep creeping downward, and then back up to his face twice as quick makes Kevin think that maybe Eli just isn’t sure what else to do.
With the wry thought that, for once, he’s the one with the most experience, he shifts them until Eli’s sitting upright, Kevin balanced in his lap like he belongs there, though it’s very clear right now that he doesn’t. He almost wants to laugh at how awkward the whole thing is, except Eli’s hands are still gripped tight at his waist, and the way he’s holding on makes Kevin realize just how much Eli needs. So he leans in close to nudge at Eli’s ear, worry at it with his teeth, distract him while he moves one hand low and rubs between his legs with the heel of his hand.
Eli makes the choked noise of someone failing to hold in a moan, and then his breath catches, hands like a vise at Kevin’s sides. One of them is pulling slightly inward, like he’s debating whether to return the favor, but Kevin is almost afraid that that if Eli touched him, something inside him would break. Instead, he scoots back, works his way to the floor until he’s on his knees between Eli’s, one hand on his thigh and one on him, still rubbing just hard enough to keep that moan in his throat.
When he goes to undo the button at his fly, Eli suddenly catches his wrist with a shaky grip, and when Kevin looks up his eyes are wild. He rests his head against the inside of Eli’s thigh without breaking eye contact, heart pounding and trying to undo the knot in his chest. “Is this okay?” he asks it softly, not really a question.
“Mouth’s a mouth,” Eli mumbles, and glances to the side. He looks like he might be about to cry, and even though he probably isn’t, Kevin is almost hysterically charmed by the idea. His body feels far away as he unzips Eli’s jeans and slides them down his legs, licking at his lips and tasting cranberry juice and vodka. He chalks it up to the alcohol, how he suddenly feels like he knows exactly what he’s doing when he leans forward, closing his mouth around Eli and working him with his tongue until Eli finally gives up his moan, hips bucking forward just a little.
He’s not sure how long he’s there on his knees. It feels like forever with the feel of Eli clutching at his hair until it hurts, the taste of him in his throat, the swell of him on his tongue. Eli gets louder and louder as he gets closer and closer, and Kevin is hard as a fucking rock, wanting to rub at himself but too obsessed with the sounds Eli makes when he uses his hands just right. He glances up at one point; Eli’s eyes are shut, but the expression on his face is so painful to look at that Kevin has to close his own.
When Eli finally comes, marked with a sharp gasp, Kevin swallows it all because he knows it would be awkward to have to clean up. He pulls back, the back of one hand pressed to his mouth, breathing hard through his nose. Eli brings his own hands up to tangle fingers in his own hair, his eyes still shut. He makes a pained sound when he does open them, full and sad and looking straight at Kevin.
A moment passes silently, all of Kevin’s confidence drained away, and he kneels there, still hard in his jeans with his eyes locked on Eli’s. Then Eli moves, his arms falling back down and Kevin thinks briefly that he imagines him murmur quietly. “C’mere.”
He stands shakily, peeling off his jeans in such a rush that he almost trips, but Eli is leaning forward to grab his arm and tug him down to the couch. Kevin falls gratefully into Eli’s side, takes his own advice and tries not to think about it too hard as Eli wraps his arms tight around him and alternates kissing at his forehead and the corner of his mouth.
He strokes himself carefully- he doesn’t need much to go over the edge, so turned on that he thinks he may still die before the night is over. Eli rubs circles into his back, making that soothing noise again, except this time it actually helps Kevin relax, enough to tilt his hips up into the pull of his own hand. When he comes, he bites into Eli’s shoulder to muffle the noise he makes, then immediately apologizes just because he feels like he should.
The heat of the moment has passed, and now all Kevin feels is a steep drop in the pit of his stomach like he’s just made the biggest mistake of his life. Even so, it’s such a comfort to be able to slump against Eli’s side and shut his eyes, his whole body starting to go numb and fuzzy. The last thing he remembers feeling is how stiff Eli is against him as he drifts to sleep with the whole room pitching around him.