Masterpieces {Book 2}

All the way you take me

Credit; olivias

Song; all the way,, taking back Sunday

[i dyed my hair pink, do y'all like?]

Summary:

calum and luke making out in bathroom stalls of parties: normal.

neck kisses and losing items of clothing: new. definitely new.

Enjoy ;)

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Luke bites back a moan, teeth sinking too hard on his bottom lip, as he drops his head back. It hits the door of the bathroom stall, and for a solid second, they both freeze, nearly losing balance, thinking maybe the door will give.

When it becomes clear that it won't, Calum giggles drunkenly against Luke's neck, licking a long stripe over his Adam's apple. It makes Luke giggle right back, just as drunk if not maybe a little high as well. His arms wrapped around Calum's waist, he pulls Calum closer. Calum's hard-on presses against his thigh, and his against Calum's, and then he's leaving for dreamland again, dropping his head back but more carefully this time, parting his lips with a soft sigh.

Calum presses his face against Luke's shoulder when he rocks his hips against Luke's, murmuring something that sounds, by its intonation, like a question. Luke doesn't care, hands sneaking under Calum's shirt, forcing against the toned skin, wanting more.

Two layers of clothes was never this disappointing. He wants to suggest they rip their jeans away and just be done with it, but they've also never done just that, and he doesn't want Calum to think weirdly of him.

Even in his drunken state he understands that there's a line that shouldn't be crossed, and though he doesn't understand the limits of their recent new habit of getting shit-faced and, consequently, making out in bathroom stalls, as if that was the only logical next step, he knows that they were fully clothed at all times.

It must've been like five or six by now, though neither of them really remembers the first. It was something like a dare of drinking more and more, and Calum saying that he wanted to piss and leaving the VIP area. Luke followed him but he can't remember why, and when they were both in there alone, somehow it turned into throwing water from the sink at each other, because they were stupidly drunk. And then that became kissing, because they were stupidly drunk. And then proper making out, walking backwards to the first stall they saw, locking themselves there and kissing until their lips were sore and their bodies too tired. Luke had come twice on his pants, but he didn't comment on it, and neither did Calum. He isn't even sure Calum had noticed.

But by now, it's pretty standard, Luke thinks. If they're both drunk enough to be giggly-stupid, one of them drags the other to the first stall available, and their friends don't ask about what takes them so long, or why sometimes they just get a cab home because they're so tired. They never do anything when they leave the club, either, like the spell breaks. So that's alright, Luke assumes. Sort of.

Calum noses at his neck to make Luke look down, and Luke gives him a faint smile, hands going as up his back as he can without making Calum take off his shirt, and Luke presses his lips to Calum's. It's tentative at first, both their focus still more on getting some relieving pressure on their dicks, but then Calum parts his lips and his tongue touches Luke's, and Luke feels a little shiver going up his spine, making his body arch against him.

Luke kisses him back, their tongues sliding together messily and too fast. In the scale of Hollywood-looking kisses, theirs wouldn't get very fair. It's wet and makes their breath pick up too fast, the kiss stopped several times as one of them rests the forehead against the other, busying themselves with trying to get more friction.