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“Are we really doing this?” Tred whispers, just barely holding back a breathless laugh.
“I think so,” Mavrus whispers back, and then he laughs, muffled into Tred’s shoulder, and Tred lets himself laugh too.
They need to be quiet because it’s the middle of the night and everyone else is asleep in neighboring rooms, but that’s much easier said than done when they’re buzzed on white claws and a shared joint. Everything seems funny, and their giggle fits while passing the joint back and forth have somehow led them to where they are now—huddled together on the floor, backs against a rickety bookshelf, with Tred’s arm around Mavrus and Mavrus’s head on Tred’s shoulder.
If he were sober, Tred would be nervous, but he’s not and he isn’t, and nothing can ruin this perfect night.
“It’s probably a bad idea,” Mavrus continues once he stops giggling, and his breath is so warm on Tred’s neck.
“Yeah,” Tred agrees softly. All traces of laughter are gone now.
Mavrus presses his lips to Tred’s neck in a soft kiss that sets Tred on fire.
“Oh,” Tred breathes out, and now he can feel Mavrus’s lips quirk up into a smile.
“Is it weird that I’ve wanted to do this for ages?” Mavrus whispers, then kisses Tred’s neck again and again and again. On the last one, he lingers, pressing a little harder, tongue flicking out to lick, and then he sucks at Tred’s skin, surely leaving a hickey behind that Tred will have to explain away in the morning. But he doesn’t care about that right now, because holy shit, this feels good.
“It’s not weird,” Tred answers, a little breathless now. Mavrus pulls back, grinning wide—it’s dark in here, the room only lit by the distant glow of streetlights and the moon outside the window—but Mavrus is still breathtaking. He’s always just—just so insanely good looking, Tred doesn’t know how to handle it. He barely handles it on normal days! He looks away when Mavrus takes his shirt off to swim, he doesn’t let himself stare when Mavrus licks his lip, and instead of letting his big mouth say any of the dumb shit he’s thinking, Tred jots down every stupid, horny, lovestruck thought into his lyrics journal.
Mavrus has read some of it—he always tells Tred it’s good. Tred wonders, now, if Mavrus has known all along that the lyrics are about him.
It’s a mortifying thought, but softened by the smile on Mavrus’s face and the way he reaches up and cups Tred’s cheek and asks, “Would it be weird if I did this?”
And then Mavrus is kissing him.
Tred kisses back immediately, sliding his hands into Mavrus’s messy hair and holding him close, kissing him like he’s been wanting to all summer—and if he’s being honest with himself, he’s wanted this for a lot longer than that.
It’s not weird. Not even a little.
It’s so easy, how they move together—Mavrus shifts, no longer leaning against Tred and kissing him at an odd angle, but now suddenly in Tred’s lap, straddling his thighs. The bookshelf shakes a little as it gets jostled by their movement, but neither of them pay it any mind. They just kiss, deep and unhurried, like they’ve got all the time in the fucking world—like it isn’t 4am and they have to sleep eventually; like it isn’t already August and the summer is winding down too quick.
When they part, it’s quiet for just a beat, and then Tred giggles again and Mavrus follows suit.
“You kissed me,” Tred says softly, smiling, still laughing just a little. This hardly feels real—it’s like a dream. Like a song.
There are lyrics assembling themselves in Tred’s mind and he hopes he remembers them in the morning; he’s too busy to jot them down right now.
“You kissed me back,” Mavrus replies, just as softly.
“This feels crazy,” Tred says.
Then Tred kisses Mavrus again.
It would be easy, Tred thinks, to get swept away in this. The kisses could escalate quickly—after all, Mavrus is already in his lap. Their hands could wander, and then their mouths could follow suit. It’s a tempting thought, and it’s one that Tred’s thought a thousand times—but he doesn’t want that tonight. Whatever this is, it’s tentative and soft and maybe a little fragile, a little vulnerable—if they prod it too much, it might crack.
And Tred wants to keep this safe.
Eventually, Mavrus breaks the kiss, ducking his head down, and—oh, Tred knows what he wants. He tilts his head to the side and Mavrus kisses Tred’s neck again, and Tred groans.
“Do you think,” Mavrus starts, then stops, then kisses Tred’s neck again before starting over. “Do you think you’ll regret this in the morning?”
“No,” Tred answers immediately, blushing when he realizes he probably answered too quickly. But what’s the point, now that they’re here? Mavrus must already know how Tred feels. “Mavrus, I’ve wanted this for a while.”
“Me too,” Mavrus whispers back, and it sounds like he’s smiling, but then Tred is pretty distracted by Mavrus kissing his neck again. Mavrus kisses just below Tred’s ear, then whispers, “Hey, can I…”
“What is it?” Tred asks softly.
“I want you.” Mavrus nips at his neck, a little sharper now, and Tred shivers.
“Mav,” Tred whispers, stroking his hands through Mavrus’s hair. “Can we… tomorrow? Sober?”
Mavrus pulls back, disheveled and flushed in the moonlight, and he’s still smiling.
“Will it be weird tomorrow?” Mavrus asks, but the look on his face makes it clear he thinks they’ll be just fine.
“Maybe it’ll be weird for the guys,” Tred replies, and then they both laugh.
“I think they’ll be relieved,” Mavrus points out as he gets up, awkwardly clambering out of Tred’s lap and to his feet—then he gives Tred a hand up, which Tred takes readily. Mavrus’s hand is warm in Tred’s, and he laces their fingers together without hesitation.
They’re standing very, very close together. Tred doesn’t know why it feels more intense now that they’re standing—maybe there was something special about the floor. Maybe the high is wearing off.
“Why would they be relieved?” Tred asks.
Mavrus reaches up, tucking a piece of Tred’s hair behind his ear, and he’s smiling when he answers, “I think they all know about my huge crush on you, dude.”