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Heinz knew that Jakey was on the fucking verge. Had spent half the morning curled into Heinz’s side, his baby-soft hairs tickling the older boy’s neck, and those stupidly oversized sunglasses pushed up firmly on his nose. And Heinz had spent that same amount of time tugging Jakey closer, his hand rubbing soothing circles into his hipbone. As if he hadn’t been forced to clean up a disgusting amount of neon-orange vomit last night, while Jakey lay sprawled out on the bare mattress, snoring away.
So, yeah. Maybe there was an element of punishment in Heinz’s thinking — a tiny way to get back at Jakey for making him sleep over on the other side of the bed, away from his sniffling, vomit-smelling boy. Instead of being able to drag said boy into his lap, their tongues tangled together in that deliciously messy way that they got when they were drunk.
And there was always that perverse little desire of his that Heinz kept hidden as best he could. Which was, to say the least, not very well at all. But fuck, if it wasn’t fun to rile Jakey up, to push him piece by piece until that pink flush crept up the back of his neck and he bit down furiously on his lip. It was even better if the end result was a drunk Jakey — all flushed and loose and clingy, dancing against Heinz’s arse with a confidence that only a few shots of vodka could achieve.
All of it had built up in Heinz’s chest, his heart pounding whenever he glanced over at the endearing exhaustion on Jakey’s face. Shit, Heinz just liked to push too far. Always had. Heat pooled in his stomach, heavy like lead, and he fought against the smirk pulling at his lips. Luckily for him, Heinz knew Jakey loved to be pushed. Oh, he’d get pissed off, sure. Played it up for the cameras too. But he needed it, needed Heinz to get him frustrated and desperate and into that dizzying headspace where Heinz’s word was fucking law.
That was how they’d ended up here — Heinz looking at Jakey’s practically full plate of breakfast through low-lidded eyes, the younger boy chewing sluggishly. He was going to lose. They all knew it, and Heinz’s heart throbbed in anticipation. He’d rushed over to the bar, ordering three Baby Guinness’s, and that unnecessarily cruel quad vodka coke. Not that Jakey would probably even touch it, at most giving it a tentative sip. He knew Heinz far too well.
When Heinz strolled back to the table, shots in hand, Jakey pulled his sunglasses off and gave Heinz those bloody puppy-dog eyes. All wide and pitying, God, Heinz loved him. But it wouldn’t work, not today, and he set the shots in front of Jakey with a wolfish grin.
“Beano, I can’t do it,” Jakey protested immediately, averting his gaze from the table as if that could make the drinks disappear.
Heinz thumped into the chair next to him, his arm slinging on Jakey’s shoulder in what could’ve been an innocent, comforting gesture. It wasn’t. Heinz’s fingers curled around Jakey’s neck, his nails lightly grazing the sweat-damp skin.
“Yeah, you can. And you will.”
Jakey’s throat bobbed, and Heinz inched closer to him, his presence warm and unrelenting. Jakey’s eyes slid to his, pleading a little, but he sighed when Heinz just arched an eyebrow in response.
“Prick,” Jakey muttered. His hands shook when he picked up the first shot, a bead of sweat appearing on his forehead. “Jesus, I actually can’t-”
Heinz cuffed a hand through Jakey’s hair, trailing towards his nape, where he gripped the short tufts with a merciless clamp. His other hand cupped around the shot, guiding it up to Jakey’s parted lips.
“Mm, c’mon, Jakey,” he pitched his voice lower, the ghost of a smirk playing on his own mouth. “You can take it, can’t you?”
Ginge snorted from the end of the table. “Oi, Beano, you tryna get him to take a shot or suck you off?”
The other boys laughed, but all Heinz could hear was Jakey’s quiet exhales as his shaky fingers pressed the rim of the shot glass to his lips. Then, with one final look to Heinz and an audible click in his throat, he tipped his head back.
Whistles erupted at the table, Tays and Chazza clapping Jakey on the back as he grimaced and slammed the glass back down. Heinz’s stomach clenched, warmth seeping through his veins, and he leaned in closer.
“Good boy,” he murmured, and the hitch in Jakey’s breath was exactly what he wanted. What he deserved, after that long fucking night.
“And,” Heinz grinned, his fingers stroking against Jakey’s neck. “Only two more to go.”