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North had bought a bottle of champagne.
It was on the smaller side and not of the finer quality, but it wasn’t like that mattered — Night wasn’t a snob, and it wasn’t like North was rolling in it.
He’d felt the urge and simply ran with it; after all, what better way to spend one's hard earned money from their first (legal,) job? Especially with it having been North’s twentieth birthday the week earlier. And maybe it was to celebrate their first month in university, too — ‘because why not?’ North had said, though the creeping edges of a childlike smile revealed his true intentions. Night wanted to laugh at the nefariousness behind North’s purchase; the sinister, oh-so-evil motive he must have had to splash out. Which was, of course, that North was happy. That North was proud of himself, and Night was too, and maybe that’s all it needed to be: simple.
Things… Were stable, and Night felt a warmth in his tummy accompanying the pleasant champagne buzz at the thought. Stable. What a concept, right? Especially when unconventionality lingered on their every movement like a movie-esque motion blur. But they were here, and North was laughing at the way Night’s face contracted and winced from the cheap champagne’s bitterness.
“No good?” He laughed, and Night comically shook his head as he took another sip, tongue adjusting to the dry taste.
“It’s alright, just a little bitter.”
“Yeah. I definitely could’ve gotten something a little better.”
“You’re rich, now?” Night raised an eyebrow, and settled it in endearment at the way North so easily melted into puddles of laughter; half of his glass was gone, and it wasn’t like either of them were particularly heavyweights.
“I’m only rich in love,” and Night cursed the way he grinned and nuzzled his face against North’s — nose to nose and giggly. “oh my darling,” North quietly sang, eyes closed with a little sarcastic drawl and bad english, “oh my darling…”
North couldn’t finish as his lips were pecked by Night and his forehead was flicked.
“Cheesy. So cheesy. Stop.”
It was hard to resist falling right into North as he ran a healed hand up Night’s waist, squeezing his butt to pull his body against his as they kissed again — deeper, this time — a slow press and languid pull back, their lips chapped from the air-con sticking together for a brief moment. Night managed to pull away and sit up, though, one arm propped behind him and the other reaching to grab his glass from the bedside table, taking a sip and swallowing after a breath. After a few more slow sips with North gazing up at him like a puppy, Night felt the alcohol settling in his tummy and alighting his chest with an alluring warmth — a hungry warmth — and with a final sip Night placed his glass onto the table and let himself be tugged back down on top of North’s body.
They could’ve melted together from how tightly they were pressed, from the warmth in Night’s body turning his bones to lead and unable to stop themselves from weighing down so hard that it was difficult to imagine ever getting up.
“Do you wanna…” North started, slow and suddenly tentative. If it weren’t for the cadence, Night would have assumed he was going to ask something dirty (if North’s half-hard dick poking at him was anything to go by,) but Night lifted his head and listened, curious. “Do, like, boyfriend stuff soon? Like, going out for dates? And, like… Fucking brunch, or whatever?”
Oh.
“Why do you sound so scared to ask that, huh?” Night raised his eyebrows with a gummy smile. “We probably do need to start doing boyfriend stuff.”
Boyfriend stuff.
They were… Pretty clumsy, at the whole boyfriend thing. Maybe it was because they had the absolutely genius idea to finally start actually dating right before graduation — a very, very hectic time, — or maybe even due to their unconventional get-together tale that they’ll have to somewhat censor if they made it to a wedding. Dates were nights entangled in Night’s bed — exactly like now, except in a far less clothed state that they’ll likely end up in after at least another hour — scented with cigarette smoke, sweat and sex and carried by uncertain peace. Intimacy grew like daisies between cracks in the sidewalk, not knowing whether this beautiful thing will be stomped by outside forces or withered away from within. And by the time they started dating there were final exams, university applications and moving, dorms, North desperately job hunting and then it was freshers.
The dates they had time for and could afford were walks to and fro, driving and dormitory sleepovers. Not that Night was complaining, it’s where they created and sought solace.
“So—” Night raised his eyebrows, “you’ve been thinking about taking me out?”
“You’d be opposed?”
“… I didn’t say that,” Night snided, lighthearted and pushing himself up to sling his legs over North, now sitting on top of him with one hand on his ribs and the other grabbing his glass once more. “Just tell me, phi,” Night leaned over and grinned. “C’mon.”
“Tell you what?” North feigned ignorance, and Night softly whacked his chest and dropped his own head in giggles.
“What you wanna do, phi.”
“What I wanna do, huh?” North tilted his head where it lay on the pillow, hair mussed and sarcastic, suggestive expression handsome as he looked up at Night spluttering on his sip and placed his hands on Night’s thighs.
“Can you not think with your dick for a single minute?”
“When your boner is literally staring me right in the eye?”
Night couldn’t bring himself to feel bashful, not when his tipsy state was clinging to an edge to not melt into North’s touch and bare himself whole — his skin felt starved, and Night rolled his eyes and lifted the fabric of his shorts over North’s deft fingers, silently encouraging the smoothing touch of his thighs.
“But…” North started, again. “Maybe I could take you out for dinner? Saturday? And we can get coffee in the morning when we’re hungover.”
“You seriously overestimate yourself, phi,” clearing his glass clean and sinking down onto his boyfriend, Night tried not to laugh as he pinched North’s cheeks. “Since when do you drag yourself out of bed before twelve on a Sunday when hungover after a night out?”
“I’m a new man.”
“Mm. Sure. But that… Sounds good, I’m excited. It’ll be my treat.”
“Oh?” North raised his eyebrows with a smug grin, weedling his hands further back underneath Night’s shorts until they reached the hem of his boxers. “Your treat?”
“Yeah,” said Night, spreading his thighs apart in subtle encouragement. “It feels like you’re always the one treating me.”
“I’m always treating you ‘cause you deserve it.” North squeezed his butt through his underwear, and Night let out a puff of laughter as he poked North’s forehead.
“You don’t deserve to get all your minimum wage salaries eaten by me.”
“You can eat anything of mine.”
“No—orth,”
“Or, any part of me.” Wiggling his eyebrows, Night wasn’t strong to North’s cheesiness; a drink or two always brought it out, and an equally as tipsy Night couldn’t bring himself to feign annoyance. Night kissed him square on the lips and revelled in the hands on his ass squeezing, dragging his crotch downwards with a small slide up against North’s. Their lips pulled back smiley and wide.
“You make me cringe so bad.”
“You love it.”
“Whatever.” With a joking huff, Night couldn’t play coy as he dragged one of North’s hands out of his shorts to hold, and met the other under the fabric to slide North’s fingers under the hem of his boxers, too. He manoeuvred North’s hand under his shirt, and North took the hint to smooth his palms over the skin. “Saturday it is.”
And — with that, — Night sank down into the depths for a deep, wet kiss and revelled in the way North grasped at his skin like a lifeline. With all the fusses of timings they hadn’t done much since they started dating; it was ironic, really, but it made Night all that more needy for the touch of North’s fingertips everywhere.
It was strange, though; unfamiliar. The feeling — that was, — of everything honest and open between the tantalising brushes of their lips, now. There had always been feeling. There had never not been, ever, but… But still. North grinned into his mouth and playfully squeezed his butt, kissed his neck ticklish and gave a pinch to his fucking balls.
“What the fuck—?!”
“Sorry, just felt like it,” chuckled North, head tilted and patting at his cheek soothingly.
Night scrunched his eyebrows, but he couldn’t resist North’s lips — how could he? Could he ever? No, never. North’s tongue was electrified with the taste of champagne, and somehow it was much more pleasantly consumed like this. Or maybe anything could taste good from North’s lips.
Pulling back, though, Night stripped his shirt and felt a jolt run down his spine at the way North held his waist with both hands and squeezed, eyes tracing every dip and curve of his developing abs and pecs, tracing his happy trail with his thumbs digging into his soft flesh. And, then — North looked at him, cheeks alcohol flushed and eyelids alcohol heavy, lips parted and his eyes, they… Night still wasn’t used to this — they hadn’t properly gotten a moment like this since they’d settled into dating.
It was North. North, just North. North who has seen every nook and cranny of his body. But yet—
“—How long do people usually wait before saying ‘I love you?’”
Night stilled.
“…Well,” whispered Night, quiet and slow, before letting a small smile creep onto his face. “Four months, apparently.”
North swallowed and Night wanted to swim inside his ocean, wanted to drink the reflection of his astral chart shimmering on the waves. He looked so nervous, and Night gave a squeeze to his palm. Taking his hand, North brought it to his mouth and kissed it, soft, though Night suspected it was to hide his mouth in shyness. His lips opened, but Night beat him to it.
“I love you too,” he said, so light on his tongue that Night questioned whether it even left his mouth. It did, though, if North’s expression was anything to go by. North kissed him and laughed, laughed so hard his lungs felt sore as he wrapped his arms around Night, tugging him chest to chest and swaying from left to right dizzily.
“I love you.” North said, peppering kisses to Night’s cheek and jaw, making him hitch a breath between a whimper and giggle with kisses to his neck.
“I love you too,” Night replied, again, neck kisses making him squirm into a fit of giggles.
“I love you,”
“I love you too.”
“Holy shit,” fake-gasped North, pulling back to do nought but look at Night, to look at his boyfriend and at that boyfriend who loved him so, so much. “Seriously?”
“Okay, no,” Night covered his mouth, ignoring the way North licked at his palm in a bid for Night to remove it, “stop being cheesy, we need to finish the champagne before it goes flat.”
“So considerate of not letting my money go to waste, aren’t you?” Teased North, sitting up with Night on his lap and passing him his empty glass.
Night didn’t move from his spot as he grabbed the bottle and filled their two glasses. As he drank, North idly ran his hand down the expanse of Night’s thigh; Night was usually touch starved after a drop of alcohol, but North knew well that champagne worked in mysterious ways with hormones — the warmth in his stomach and every inch of untouched skin yelled Night’s name in a calling plea and Night soothed into the touch just as needily.
They cleared half of their glasses with relative ease and Night’s eyes were droopy, need dripping from them like honey as he gazed down at North, taking a final sip, placing his glass down and weedling his hands under North’s shirt to strip it. North complied like putty beneath the touch.
Kissing like the tide pulling in, Night pushed North down and they sank; the sea foam was reminiscent of the bubbles from cheap champagne, and they’d never been able to breathe so clear.