Chapter Text
Graham straddled Damon’s lap as the older boys hands curled around his waist. Graham bit his lip to stop a grin from curling across his face.
Damon and Graham graduated secondary only two years ago, and somehow, Damon had gotten insanely popular, at least compared to how he was in his past years. Graham knew why he was considered popular— he was attractive. Any attractive man immediately was guaranteed a slot in popular culture.
Even with Graham being what he called a “burden,” Damon dragged him to every party he could. Sometimes Damon would flirt with girls for the fun of it, and sometimes he would show off Graham like a shiny toy. Graham, much to his embarrassment, found the praise from Damon boilingly attractive.
The house smelled like cigarettes and beer, thick with body Oder and sex. It was the only reason people came to these types of parties— to fuck someone and get fucked up with drugs and alcohol. Graham was a sucker for the beer aspect, much to Damon’s dismay.
Graham adjusted his position on the black couch, sitting bridal style in Damon’s lap with his head tucked into the man’s chest. He held a red cup of beer in his hand, bringing it to his mouth and taking an extended sip.
The lights were low, and everywhere was crowded. Loud, shitty music blasted over speakers, and Graham cringed at the crude lyrics. He brought the beer to his lips again, frowning when he found it empty, not a single drop in sight, even as he shut one eye and squinted into the cup.
He tossed the plastic on the ground and curled into Damon, who was so obviously bored. Truthfully, they both were, and Graham felt like it was his fault a little. His mind was a little foggy after the beer, it was his third after all. He looked up at Damon, puckering his lips out for a kiss.
Damon didn’t give it to him, leaving Graham frowning and pouty. “Day,” he whined, tucking more into Damon’s chest and squeezing his eyes shut as his head throbbed from the movement. “Can we leave? Watch something at the house, do something eventful?”
“I’m a little worried that you consider sitting at home eventful,” Damon muttered, just loud enough to be heard. “Yeah, let’s go, this party is shite anyways.”
Graham hated parties.
As Damon tossed Graham his jacket, some woman stumbled up to Damon and started whispering sweet, drunken nothings into his ear as she clung onto him. It pissed Graham off to his core, but he said nothing as he adjusted his glasses. He had a bit of jealousy down in his core, he thought, because, one, this woman was so sure that Damon would like her; Graham did not have the confidence. Two, Damon had people approaching him with flirtatious gestures left and right— and, three, Graham knew Damon would never confirm things with him, watching the man entertain the woman.
Graham tugged his jacket on as he kept his face blank. He started walking out without Damon, trying to play it off as being sick of waiting when he truthfully couldn’t stand to see him with someone else.
He opened a cigarette case as he stepped outside and brought one of the sticks to his lips. He took out a lighter and brushed the flame against the far end of the cigarette, holding it there until satisfied. Graham cast his eyes down to the grass in front of the house.
I should know at this point, he thought. Damon flirts with everyone, I’m not an exception. He blamed the tears that stung his eyes on the burn of cold on his face as he brought the cigarette to his lips and inhaled. Graham didn’t turn as Damon walked out and shut the door behind him.
“Grah, that’s bird thought I was gonna shag her! It’s almost funny how confident she was,” Damon laughed to himself, waiting for Graham to laugh as well. When Graham did not, Damon turned to him and nudge the younger man with his shoulder. “Graham?”
“Yeah,” Graham didn’t meet his eyes as he held the cigarette away from his mouth. “That’s funny.”
Graham tried for a laugh but it was so fake even he winced. He began walking off the porch, not checking to see if Damon was following.
—
They came to a stop in front of the hotel room that they were staying in for the tour they were on. With the success of Parklife, Damon always wanted to enjoy himself at parties. Graham did not. Alex and Dave’s rooms were a floor above theirs, and they had denied wanting to go to the party and just went to get rest. Graham couldn’t blame them, the party had blowed.
Damon hadn’t spoken to Graham the entire walk to the hotel— which was fine. It wasn’t like Graham cared, or anything. He fumbled with the keys and nudged the door open to the room.
“Graham,” Damon tried again. “Graham, I’m trying to talk to you.” Graham could tell Damon was getting irritated, just by the sternness in his voice.
“Why? There’s nothing to talk ‘bout,” Graham shrugged off his jacket and tossed it on one of the tables in the room. “‘M just tired.”
“Yeah, so it has nothing to do with me flirting with that bird?” Damon stepped in front of Graham so he had no choice but to meet Damon’s eyes. “Talk to me, Grah. You can’t leave me in the dark just ‘cause you’re upset!”
“So what if I’m pissed about you flirting? It’s your life! You can do- you can do whatever you- whatever you want-“ Graham swallowed as his eyes welled with tears. He sighed angrily at himself.
“Graham, c’mere,” Damon held his arms wide. Graham wanted nothing more then to rush into them, say ‘I love you I love you’ to Damon, to tell him why he was so mad— but that was some warped perception of what would happen. This was no soap opera, this was real life. And, in real life, nothing went Grahams way.
Graham did not walk into Damon’s embrace, instead reached for a glass bottle filled with alcohol and threw it back. Damon snatched the bottle from Grahams hands. “Stop.”
“Fuckin’ give it back,” Graham whined. “Please, Dames, give it!”
“How bad do you want it?” Damon whispered. Graham caught the change in the tone of his voice, how it went from his teasing voice to a deeper, sultry voice.
“Wh- I want it bad,” Graham whispered back, almost like a question. “Day, what’re you-“
Graham whimpered as he was nudged against the mattress. He didn’t fight it, not at all.
“Didn’t know you were so affected by me flirting with other people, Grah,” Damon whispered into his ear, beer bottle long forgotten. Damon’s hand ran up and down Grahams sides, as if mapping it out. Damon had made a comment, a few years back, about Graham having a woman’s waist. Damon got confident as his hands moved higher up.
Graham remembered a time in Secondary, their last year, when they would sit on Damon’s floor and talk about what drove them crazy when they had sex. Graham had to kinda assume, because he was still a blushing virgin when it came to it.
Now, it drove him crazy that Damon knew just what part of his neck to brush his thumbs against. Graham whimpered pathetically. He wanted to have Damon bend him to his every need, the mere thought when straight to his cock.
“D-Dames,” Graham whispered. “Can- w-wait,” he put his hands against Damon’s still clothed chest. The man had Graham pinned against the mattress. “C-can I sit in your lap?”
Damon grinned and awkwardly flipped them over so that Graham rested in his lap comfortably. They met halfway, lips crushing in a hot, messy kiss. Graham moaned into Damon’s mouth, the older man swallowing the sounds like a five star meal.
“Fuck, Grah,” Damon whispered into his lips. Their eyes met, and Graham swore there were sparks between them. He dove back in for a kiss, Damon’s hands squeezing his sides in a way that guaranteed bruises. Damon bit Grahams lower lip, causing the younger man to gasp in pleasure. Damon let his tongue slide into to Grahams mouth, exploring everything he could.
“D-Damon,” Graham whimpered. He started to fumble with Damon’s belt, when the door to their hotel room was knocked on.
—
“So you’re just madly disheveled because..?” Alex questioned, blunt hanging from his lips, forgotten.
“We got into an argument,” Damon said with expert deception. Alex narrowed his eyes and looked over to Graham.
“Is that what happened?”
“Why would we lie?”
“… alright. I was wondering if you’d seen Dave,” Alex sighed. “He went to get us drinks, but he’s been out for a bit.”
“Maybe check the bar, fuckin’ wanker,” Damon teased, poking Alex. Alex just sideyed him, but left.
Graham and Damon exchanged a look as the door shut.
When the lights turned off, their bodies twisted together in a comfortable cuddling position, and they both fell asleep.