Manthony ✨

Owed You

~OWED YOU~

⚠️TW: ⚠️Smut - If you do not like smut, don't read! Thank you and enjoy! :)

ATTENTION: This is FANFICTION and none of this is CONFIRMED. No hate to ANY of the Chase Atlantic members or their girlfriends, please! Enjoy <3

Idea by GDaisy_Aesthetic

~Christian~

"Do you guys have anything decent to drink here?" Pat asks, digging through our fridge like an animal would through garbage,

"Sorry, mate," I say and he grumbles, grabbing a beer and taking a seat at the table where the others are playing a drinking game. I'm working on some food and Mitchel will come over and help occasionally, kissing my neck while he's at it,

"Hey, bub," he whispers and gives me a quick hug and a nip at the back of my neck,

"Hey," I say and pour the marinara sauce into the pot. I love spaghetti,

"I love this stuff," he reads my mind and I laugh,

"I was just thinking that," I tell him and he smiles, pouring the pasta into the boiling water, proceeding to set a timer,

"Okay, wanna come play?" He asks and I nod,

"Let's do it," I say. Hey, a watched pot never boils after all.

"You guys suck!" Clinton yells and we all laugh as he draws a card and does the next impression, Jesse as the target,

"Whoever chose You Laugh, You Drink is a piece of shit," Pat says and I laugh as funny dances go off and stories and we're all laughing and of course, drinking. I go to finish the food and lay out plates and utensils for everyone. We all start digging in in no time,

"This shits lit," Mitchel says and I smile,

"Glad ya think so," I joke and he smiles. We all eat and talk, having fun as a bunch of friends when I notice Mitchel head to the bathroom. He comes back after about 2 minutes and sits back down, laughing and joking some more. Someone here decided to bring out the Vodka that was in the cabinet (it was supposed to be hidden from these losers) and they're all getting hammered. Slurred speech floods my ears and I decide not to drink anymore, listening to their funny jokes instead. I turn to Mitchel, but he's not there. Did he go to the bathroom again? Just as I'm about to stand up, I feel hands on my thighs and I don't need to look to know it's him. I feel his fingers start to fiddle with my belt, getting it open as well as unbuttoning my jeans. I'm getting more and more nervous by the second. I reach for my beer as he pulls my cock out and gives me a few sharp tugs, licking at the tip. I bite my lip and feel myself starting to get hard in his hands. I slosh down some more beer and try not to lean my head back and show everyone that Mitchel is blowing me under the table. I feel his tongue lap at the head and stroke my shaft and I'm desperately digging my heels into the floor and clutching my beer as he gets me off. I feel him take me deeper and that's when I groan a bit,

"Somebody have too much beer?" Pat slurs and I nod my head, trying not to just lean back and moan,

"Where's Mitchel?" Clinton asks and I point towards the bathroom, "He okay?" Clinton raises an eyebrow,

"Uh huh," I breathe out and feel him hollow out his cheeks. I take another sip of beer, hoping it'll help but knowing it won't. After a few more minutes of his mouth on me, I feel his hands on my shaft again and God, I'm gonna cum. How am I supposed to tell him, considering our current situation? I decide to reach under the table and grab a few of his braids, tugging lightly. I hear a tiny noise from him before I unload myself into his mouth. He swallows and comes closer, looking at me from under the table, grinning,

"Thought I owed you a release since I left you hanging last night,"