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Basch wakes up warm and fuzzy-headed, and achy in that way that means he had a damn good time last night. He sighs contentedly, stretches as much as he has room for, and opens his eyes to see who's sleeping on his arm. Short brown hair, pale skin, earrings. Balthier. Basch remembers carrying him inside late last night, when it was clear he was down for the count, and Balthier's sleepy, mumbly insistence that Basch stay there when he got to bed. He remembers the way things went last night, how quickly Balthier warmed up to the idea after a couple of beers, how into it he got.
How he talked about it.
Probably Basch ought to get out of bed and let Balthier have his sexual identity crisis by himself. He had a couple of Sky Pirates in a row, yeah, and Reddas never met a beer with too much kick, but still. There's no way he was really drunk enough to not know what he was doing. Just enough that he could use it as an excuse the next day if he wanted to, and from the sound of that borderline creepy fuck me like a queer stuff, he might want to. Wouldn't be the first time Basch has seen that happen. One of these days, he'll learn to quit taking chances on good-looking straight boys.
He tries to sit up, to see if he can dislodge Balthier without waking him up. Not likely. Balthier's holding onto his arm like a security blanket, and he'd have to be a really heavy sleeper not to notice that changing. He looks different, asleep. When he's awake, he's so animated, so constantly in motion, it was about all Basch paid attention to. Asleep he looks less polished, less pretty. His mouth is a little too thin, and his nose is sort of pointy. Not bad, definitely -- it makes him look interesting, Basch thinks. More like a real person and less like a movie star.
Seriously, he should get out of bed before he gets any worse. He can always say he needed to go take a piss, if he wakes Balthier up. Basch pulls, trying to get his arm free.
Balthier makes a sleepy noise of protest and clutches at his arm.
Basch lays his other hand on Balthier's bare shoulder carefully. "Balthier," he says gently. No flinching, that's good.
"Too early," Balthier mumbles, rolling over and squinting up at him.
"College boy," Basch says -- the sun's all the way up, which means if it were a weekday he'd be on his way to the site by now, if not already there. "Just let me up, okay?"
Balthier makes another one of those unhappy sounds, but he lets go of Basch's arm. "Come back soon," he says. "You're warm."
"Okay," Basch says. He's trying not to get his hopes up, he really is.
He rolls out of bed and goes to take a piss. The air's cooled off in the night, and it's kind of chilly now to be wandering around the house in his boxers, but he heads out to the living room when he's done anyway, to see where everyone else ended up. Most of them are out there, sleeping on the pull-out couch -- Vossler and Fran took the other bedroom, it looks like, but the rest of them are in a pile on the couch. Noah cracks one eye open when Basch stops there, and beckons. He can't go anywhere -- Drace is sleeping on his chest -- so Basch goes over to him, kneeling beside the couch.
"You okay?" Noah asks quietly. He reaches out with the hand that's not splayed across Drace's back, strokes Basch's arm. "Kid's not being a dick, is he?"
Basch shakes his head. "It's -- so far it's kind of okay," he says.
"Good," Noah says. "Don't you take any shit."
"Yeah, I know," Basch says. He leans in and kisses Noah, and when he pulls back Drace is smiling at them sleepily. "Go back to sleep," he tells them. God only knows how late they were up last night.
"You, too," Noah says.
Basch nods. He'll try. It looked like Balthier wanted to sleep for a few more hours, at least.
Only when Basch gets back to the bedroom, Balthier's eyes are open, watching the doorway. He looks alert, but not freaked out. "Good morning," he says.
"Morning," Basch says. He watches Balthier watch him cross the room -- it's no come hither look, but it's not panic, either. "I hope you're -- how are you feeling?"
"My head aches a bit," Balthier says. He laughs nervously, but pushes back the covers like he expects Basch to get back in bed. "Among other things."
Damn, but it's hard not to hope. Basch slides back into bed, and keeps his hands to himself. "But you're not too freaked out?"
Balthier shakes his head. "Only a little," he says. "I mean, that's normal enough, I would expect."
Basch nods. This could still be leading toward I'm sorry, this was a mistake or Thanks, but that was enough or -- any of the versions of that theme. It's almost worse that way than having the guy get nasty afterward, because at least when somebody's being a dick you can return the favor.
"Perhaps," Balthier says, laying his hand on Basch's chest, "I just need a little more convincing."
It'd be easy enough, especially given what Basch would like to ask for. But Noah's right. He shouldn't take any shit, and he doesn't want to feel like a creep if they mess around again.
"No convincing," Basch says, and puts his hand on top of Balthier's to stop it from sliding down his stomach. "I don't -- I don't want to push you for things. I was trying not to last night, and -- if you don't want to that's fine, and if you do want to that's" more than "fine, I just --" god, Vossler would be better at this. He's always been better at talking about what things mean. "I don't want to be playing some kind of head game where -- where the big bad queer makes you do anything."
Balthier looks horrified. "Is that -- is that really how it sounded?"
Goddamnit, the first thing he wants to do is make the kid feel better. "It -- no, mostly it was totally okay," Basch says. "Just, you know. The fuck me like a queer, come on, make me stuff. I -- don't go for that. Especially not" as a top "with someone I don't really know so well."
"I -- I'm sorry," Balthier says. "God knows I wasn't trying to make you uncomfortable any more than you were me." He smiles hopefully. "If you'll give me another chance, I promise I won't do it again."
Basch can't help the sigh of relief. "Yeah," he says, "fuck, if you want to, I -- yeah." He slides his arms around Balthier and there's no hesitation, no tension, in the way Balthier leans right into him. The kiss tastes a little stale, a little sour at first, but that passes, and it doesn't matter a all when Balthier's cock is starting to twitch and harden against his thigh. When Balthier's reaching down to push at the boxers that Basch left on to try to be polite.
He lets Balthier help him out of them and tangles their legs together, one hand on Balthier's ass to haul him close and rock hard against him. Sex outside with your pants still on is good, sure, but Basch really likes the smooth heat of bare skin sliding on skin.
Balthier tries to roll onto his back, tries to pull Basch with him, but Basch holds back. Not yet. "Please?" Balthier says. "I do want -- I'm not trying --"
"No, it's okay," Basch says. "We're not stopping. Just." He leans in, catches the shine of Balthier's earrings between his teeth. The metal's cold on his tongue, and Balthier moans, writhing against him. "You want to switch it up a little today?" he asks. He licks the rim of Balthier's ear, and Balthier's nails dig into his shoulders. "I didn't get a chance to get fucked last night."
"Oh god," Balthier says. "You'd let me -- I mean, you don't look like -- I mean, yes. Please."
Basch laughs. "Good," he says. He reaches for the drawer in the bedside table, finds the little flip-top lube bottle in there about half full. "You want to slick me up, or you want to watch me do it?"
Balthier makes this great throaty noise like that just shut his brain right off. "Show me," he says. "I want to watch."
"Yeah," Basch says. "Okay." He has to let go, and Balthier almost doesn't seem to want to let him -- don't think about that, he tells himself, don't make it more than it is. He gets the lube open with one hand, squeezes it out onto his fingers. He can't help grinning at the way Balthier watches him do it. "Here," he says, handing Balthier the bottle. "Hang onto that for me."
When he reaches down between his legs, Balthier actually sits up to watch, pushing the blanket back. Basch spreads his legs, settles the heel of his hand right behind his balls, and for Balthier's sake he makes some noise when he pushes his fingers up his ass.
"God," Balthier says. "You like it."
"Just like you did," Basch says. He lifts his knees a little more, so he can move better. It's a crap angle for trying to get in deep, but it lets him get his other hand around his cock, and that makes up for it. Especially with Balthier watching.
"I -- I can't believe this is really happening," Balthier says. His fingertips rest on Basch's forearm for a minute, like he's feeling the flex of muscle there, and then he lets them trail slowly down -- over Basch's wrist, the back of his hand, his knuckles. His first two fingers, where they press into his ass. Balthier's eyes are wide, the pupils huge.
"Slick up," Basch says, "and you can help."
"Right," Balthier says shakily, his hands slipping as he pushes the bottle open. He keeps looking up at Basch in between watching what he's doing. The lube oozes over his fingers, shining wet.
"One of yours and one of mine," Basch says, pulling his fingers out almost all the way. Balthier reaches down and matches his hand up to Basch's. "There you go. Now we push."
They do, and there's the little awkward pinch of trying to move in tandem, but it's good. Basch slows down with his other hand, stroking is cock just enough to keep the tension up, not enough to get him close. It's way too soon for that.
"God," Balthier says. "You're so tight. And so -- so soft." The way he moves doesn't quite match up to the way Basch does, but that's okay. They're going to get where they're going just fine.
"Feels good," Basch says, watching the look on Balthier's face, the way he looks a little giddy and maybe a little amazed. Stone cold sober the morning after and he's looking at Basch like that. "You want to give me another one?" Basch says.
Balthier nods. "Okay. Yes. God." He lines up, and then pauses like he's waiting -- "Are -- are you pulling out?"
Basch shakes his head. "I can take it. Go ahead." He takes a deep breath, lets it out slow when Balthier starts to push, and fuck, he can feel the stretch there, Balthier's fingers up his ass with his own. "Yeah," he says, rocking as much as he can stand, feeling the fullness and the heat of being stretched. "Good, like that."
"You feel," Balthier says. "You -- I want -- I mean, god, please, whenever --"
Basch laughs. "Don't want to be kept waiting, mm?" he asks. Balthier ducks his head, and Basch says, "No, it's fine. I don't blame you." He pulls out carefully, pleased when Balthier doesn't -- no straight-boy squeamishness here. The way Balthier pushes is distracting in the best way as Basch tries to reach for a condom. He lets it go for a minute, and just rocks into the touch instead. "Push up," he says. "Like you're reaching for the base of my cock." He tilts his hips to help, and Balthier gets it just right. "Mmn," Basch says. "God. Yeah, there you go."
He could keep going like this for a good long while if he let himself, now that Balthier's getting the hang of it, fingerfucking him just right and watching him with lips parted and cheeks flushed. But it doesn't seem fair for him to be having all the fun.
"Here, on your back," Basch says.
"Oh --" Balthier licks his lips. "You want to, to take me for a ride," he says, and the fact that he stammers when he's trying to talk dirty is kind of ridiculously cute.
"Yeah," Basch says. "Want to ride your cock, get it nice and deep." Balthier pulls out, letting him up, and now Basch can get to the condoms just fine. His hands don't even shake, or at least not much, when he tears one open and reaches over to roll it on.
"God," Balthier says, pushing up into his hands. "Please, Basch."
"You still got the lube around here somewhere?" Basch says. Balthier fumbles in the blankets and comes up with it. "There you go. Just a little more slick for your cock, and we're set to go."
Balthier nods, squeezing out more lube onto his cock. He curls one hand around the base to steady himself as Basch throws a leg over him. His eyes are focused, hungry, and his breath hitches when Basch lines up against him. "Do it," he says.
Basch pushes. It goes easy, plenty slick, and he settles right down on Balthier's hips, taking Balthier's cock deep.
"Ah, god," Balthier says. "Basch." His hands slide up Basch's thighs, and he's not even thrusting yet, just holding still right there and taking deep, shaky breaths.
"Yeah," Basch says. He settles back, his weight on his heels, feeling just how deep Balthier's cock will go, how full he can get like this. He curls a hand around the base of his cock, just holding on loosely, while they both get used to the idea.
"Can I," Balthier says, and Basch an feel the little needy flex of his thighs, "I mean -- is it all right for me to move yet?"
"Oh, fuck, yes," Basch says, and when Balthier starts to move Basch goes with him, rocking in time. Balthier might not have done this with a guy before, but it feels like he has plenty of experience at making a fuck feel good for the person on the receiving end. He's steady, not too fast, and -- okay, Basch probably wouldn't let him pull out much when it feels like this, but he doesn't even seem to be trying.
"Good?" he says breathlessly, watching Basch's face. "You feel -- god, so tight, I -- I apologize in advance if I don't --"
"Try to wait for me," Basch says, taking a firmer grip on his cock. "It's worth it."
Balthier laughs. "I don't doubt it," he says. "Believe me, I'm willing. That's part of the problem, really. God, you look amazing."
Basch smiles. "You're pretty hot yourself," he says. He picks up the pace, stroking his cock faster, harder, rocking down onto Balthier's thrusts.
"Going to make a mess like that, aren't you?" Balthier says. "Going to come all over me."
"Yes," Basch groans. "Keep talking."
Balthier smiles, with that nervous light in his eyes like he's a little freaked out and thinks he might like it. "You want to," he says. "You want to come on me. And I -- oh god, I want you to. I want to watch you. I want to feel you come. I want -- you're going to get tight like I did, aren't you? When you fucked me. I liked it. Coming like that. Full of your cock. God, please hurry."
"Close," Basch says, "real close. God, yes. Please, Balthier --" and he's not even sure what he's asking for, but the words just come when it feels this good, when he's so hard he aches and he feels so full, and Balthier's flexing under him, thrusting deep, and he slides right through the moment of can't-stop-now into now now now, coming hard with Balthier's cock buried deep in his ass --
And the helpless little disbelieving noises Balthier makes, well, he has to be real close by now, too, so Basch doesn't let himself stop, keeps pushing through the aftershocks as Balthier tenses up under him -- "Come on," Basch says, hoarse, "like that, god, going to make you come like this, want you to fuck me till you come --"
Balthier nods, his lip caught between his teeth, his back arching, and he shakes hard when he comes, like it's taking him right apart. And afterward, when he finishes, as he collapses back into the pillows he starts laughing -- good, happy, can't-believe-my-luck laughter. That's when Basch decides he really needs to come party with them again.
"I'm sorry," Balthier says, "I don't mean --"
"Don't worry about it," Basch says. He leans forward, reaches down so he can hold the condom in place while he gets up. "I had a good time, too." His legs aren't terribly steady when he tries to move, like this is more exercise than they're up for before breakfast. He flops back down across the bed, and the springs creak. Balthier's stripping the condom off, but it looks like he's just about as shaky as Basch, and his hands slip a little.
"You eat breakfast?" Basch asks.
Balthier blinks at him. "What?"
"Do you eat breakfast?" Basch repeats. He points out the trash can, so Balthier can toss the knotted-up condom at it. "We can probably talk Noah into making pancakes in a little while, if you're interested."
"Good hearty breakfast so you can keep doing this all weekend?" Balthier says. He leans against Basch, so Basch slides an arm around him. "You've planned this out well."
"We've had practice," Basch says. He likes the way Balthier's hand settles across his chest. He likes the way Balthier's hair smells. He's fucking doomed.
Balthier hums, and kisses Basch's collarbone. "Pancakes sound good," he says. "In a while." His fingertips draw shapes across Basch's chest.
"Right," Basch says. He smiles. "No rush."