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The barely-lit room was filled with hot, steamy teenagers, everyone was touching someone else, - the oxygen levels seemed to be decreasing, and clean air seemed to evaporate, being replaced by a warm, beer-flavored aroma, every person was sweaty and sticky because of the number of bodies in the house. Bruce stood around, not knowing what was happening in his surroundings currently, perhaps drinkings his worries off wasn’t exactly the best idea?
Baseball season would start rolling back in around a month or two, - his coach always seemed to inform the team at the last minute if the training was back in March or April, - Bruce loved Baseball, although with the amount of schoolwork, accompanied with the extra stress level of his parents’ pressure, made the boy incredibly unmotivated to play the sport again. His body felt sticky, his posture slightly tilted as his back hit the kitchen counter, and his hands stayed put inside his jeans pockets, making sure he had everything he brought with him. He could never be too careful.
His brain felt like it was sizzling, - he wasn’t one to drink, so when he did, his body reacted as negatively as it could. Mostly by getting shit-drunk about thirty, or twenty, minutes after his arrival, - he watched as bodies around him seemed to move almost in slow-motion, it looked cartoonish, in his opinion. He still had the capability to understand what was happening around him and what he was doing, however, he was a hundred percent sure he wouldn’t remember most of tonight’s events by tomorrow morning.
That is if he even survived ‘till morning, - and with how he was looking currently, he seemed to doubt the chance of it with every, incredibly slow , second that passed. Bruce recalls Finney telling him how he felt when he got shit-faced drunk for the first time, and now he completely and utterly understands how the younger boy must have felt. His gaze seemed too focused, yet still blurry, at the same time, - his own actions now caught by his odd feeling of slow-motion, everything the male seemed to do was much, much slower than he usually would.
He came to the house party under one condition, he wasn’t going to drink. The raven didn’t remember how it let to this in the first place, anyway. Everything was moving too fast, there were too many people in the space for his liking and he dreaded every second he spent here when he was sober. Then, out of nowhere, he seemed not to be sober. He was nearly sure it was Billy’s and Robin’s doing mostly, Billy, formally known as the ‘Beer-Pong King’ at parties , dared Bruce to beat him in the horrendous game of ‘pong while stone-cold sober, - The brunette was correct about the Asian still losing even if he was clear-headed while he wasn’t. The raven-haired couldn’t, however, take this absolute federal offense towards his being and began to play with the Paper-boy.
Next, as if Billy’s public humiliation wasn’t enough for the Asian, Robin dragged him to a room where about a dozen, or so, people have been preparing to play ‘ Truth-or-Drink’. He wasn’t able to politely back out, not with Robin’s hand tensely placed on his shoulder as he introduced the bright new player to the others. Yeah, that’s it. He originally attended this chaos to hang out strictly with one of his friends, - Baseball or not. Bruce didn’t stick to his plan, he wasn’t glued hip-to-hip with any of the three boys he came to the party with, in fact, Bruce started moving away from his group of friends as time passed by. He was certain it must have been around midnight now, right?
Bruce lazily pushed himself off the kitchen counter using his hands, which were now not in his pockets anymore, instead fidgeting with each other after Bruce boosted himself off the counters. He made his way through the crowd in the living room slowly, making sure not to bother anyone who might have not been having the best night tonight. It was painfully slow, bodies slamming into his as he swore to himself that if anyone pushed him back further into the crowd one more time he would set the house on fire. It took him around four minutes, - though it felt more like fifteen if he was being honest, - to leave the absolute pit of hell that was the living room. The rest of his wobbly stroll was unbothered by the other teenagers, - some he could recognize from school, faint memories of smiling at them in the hallways and classes. Many were surprised the boy even showed up to a party such as this, many people seemed to think it’d be out of his league. Bruce couldn’t begin to try to understand people like them, - holding the railing as he stepped down from the porch, too afraid to let go of it if he accidentally thought too fondly of himself and let it slip out of his grasp, falling down the steps.
The Asian’s mind warned him carefully, letting him know that he hasn’t contacted the others to let them know he was leaving permanently, though he supposed they could figure it out, - if not, his house phone was still available at night.
His movements were agonizingly slow, searching for his bike, which he remembers he secured to one of the railings on the side of the house, unable to think. The male was going on autopilot, his body and mind equally as foggy and muffled. Bruce found his bike after around two minutes of searching, - he ignored the fact that typing the combination to the lock took him around five, or six, minutes to handle before the lock clicked and let the bike go out of its grasp, - mindlessly hopping on the saddle as he immediately began losing his coordination, falling to the soft, wet, grass under him. The bike landed on top of him, and Bruce could hear multiple people laughing at his act.
The raven-haired boy didn’t care, however, he instead opted for planning out how to get back home. Scrambling himself from under the vehicle whilst groaning under his breath, - he was going to break a bone at this rate. There was a sound from behind him, - a person clearing their throat, rather aggressively. The Asian turned around, his surroundings spinning slightly as his eyes scanned over the face of the person, maybe he picked up the wrong bike?
The face of one of his friends, Joshua, greeted him with a cheeky smile, his dimples showing nicely. When did Joshua even arrive? He placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, patting it slightly as he was sure the other could feel the alcohol coming off of him. His pupils must have dilated when he saw Josh’s face, what a pleasant surprise.
“ Brucey!” The older male spoke in a honey-sweet tone, placing his own hand on top of Bruce’s - the Asian just smiled at him widely, too intoxicated to properly respond. He and Joshua were close friends from Baseball, the pair being unmatched when they played together. They had a special bond with each other, one that had gotten slight negative feedback back when they were Sophomores last year. It didn’t matter what other people thought of him, thought of Joshua, as he was openly bisexual, - it used to, back when the rumors started, he feared the other teenagers, mostly the older ones, and their reactions. Bruce feared being viewed as gay the most. He wasn’t, he could never be.
It was disgusting to even picture himself in a relationship with a girl, - so he simply never put himself into the image consisting of a relationship with a male.
They both chatted with each other, as much as they could, since Bruce could see Joshua was under the influence as well. The older gave Bruce the invitation to go back and stay with him, - as well as presumably his other friends, - to which Bruce politely declined. He started to feel a bit drowsy and nauseous, so he assumed it was better to be safe and go back home now, rather than stay and potentially blackout in the middle of a party in an unknown house and neighborhood.
That was the thing, he didn’t know where exactly he was placed, - Robin got them here in the first place, the four of them driving in Robin’s Uncle’s truck, and his bicycle was only brought if Bruce wanted to leave sooner than planned, as he did currently. He assured himself he’d be alright, giving Josh a quick half-smile before the other retracted his hand, - which has been placed over Bruce’s, still on his shoulder, lightly squeezing the other’s palm when he spoke to make sure the other was still in touch with reality. The raven found the gesture incredibly sweet.
His glossed eyes stumbled upon a figure, sitting on the house’s porch as they faced Bruce. He recognized him, Pinball Vance, they never had a proper conversation, - the blonde boy was too violent and aggressive for Bruce’s liking, although he assumed it had some deeper explanation than just Vance’s teenage hormones.
He didn’t mind the curly-haired male personally, he acknowledged, although, how he could be with some of his friends. He faintly recalls Joshua explaining his bruises, - a large, circular-shaped red and purple-ish bruise was forming on the boy’s cheek, his lip was busted too, - the boy explaining how Vance attacked him for supposedly ‘invading his personal space like the faggot he was.’
Finney was also picked on by Vance Hopper while the boy was still a freshman, it changed, - much to Bruce’s pleasure, as his heart couldn’t bare to watch the young boy get harassed by the toughest person in school, - when Robin Arellano made a statement, apparently worthy of respect, to Vance. He was glad Finney had someone like Robin to help him with people like Hopper. Blood rushed to his cheeks as Bruce realized he’d been staring awkwardly at the boy, his lips pink and slightly parted, - he wasn’t sure if it was because of Vance or his current non-sober state, - as the other simply glared back, his brows furrowed together, he looked puzzled, as if he didn’t understand why Bruce was staring.
Bruce wasn’t sure either, though, the blonde stared at him first, therefore it was at least slightly acceptable for him to look back. His arms, albeit feeling like noodles, picked up his bicycle from the ground quite swiftly, - prepping his forearms on the handles as he struggled to get back onto the seat. He heard a scoff and soft footsteps trailing toward him, and-... Oh. It was Vance.
Bruce softly, and quite horribly, hummed along to a popular rock song that boomed from the house, - he didn’t know what the person who hosted the party was using to get the volume of the music to be this high, but he had to say he was impressed, the sound quality and overall music was just right for the drunken Asian, - he adjusted his eyes, furrowing his brows in confusion as he watched the older, and slightly taller, boy approach him.
“Having trouble there, Yamada? ” The Asian was shocked the other even recognized who he was, - he wasn’t exactly someone who would mess with someone like Vance, and remembering the names of people whom he had no interaction with just felt… Silly. Bruce answered with a half-assed quiet ‘ Nah.’, barely recognizing the tone of his voice as the word left his mouth. The blonde chuckled quietly at Bruce’s behavior, - the raven understood, if he was watching someone fail to ride a bike continuously whilst drunk he was sure he’d also laugh, - and Bruce thought for a second that his pupils might have been slightly too large and too red to be considered normal, was Vance high?
“Why’re you fuckin’ going home so early for, anyways?” The Asian wasn’t in the state to conversate with anyone and especially not Vance, - he didn’t want to get beaten up, though, so he opted for the better version. He shrugged slightly, muffling some bluff response he came up with just now, the older wouldn’t know if it was true anyways, so it didn’t hurt anyone. “Just am. No worries.” He listened to Vance’s delayed chuckle from behind him, - most likely at the raven-haired’s broken-English reply, - and Bruce would lie if he said Vance’s honey-coated laugh wasn’t one of the prettiest he’s heard in a while. Vance Hopper, although violent and incredibly sadistic, was one of the prettiest people intoxicated Bruce has seen. His beautiful golden locks seemed to go so well with his skin carnation, complemented by his piercing blue eyes, usually violent and blood-thirsty, yet now they looked nothing more than relaxed and at peace, - Bruce knew it was his drunk mind talking. “You’re so odd, fuck.” His voice was raspy and cold, as it usually was, - this time, though, he seemed more relaxed than usual, most likely from whatever the blonde took.
“Can you-,” The raven-haired groaned, closing his eyes as his vision began spiraling, - he almost fell off his bike, again. “Can you help me?” His question seemed to take the other slightly by surprise, Bruce looked into the blonde’s eyes, his own slightly droopy and watery from the intense tiredness he felt, - he was always a tired drunk. Vance groaned in approval, nodding his head once slowly as he walked towards the Asian boy. Bruce noticed the puzzled look on his face yet again, “How about-, shit,” He places his scarred hand on the bicycle’s handle, covering the surface completely with his large hand. “ I walk you fuckin’ home or something.”
And Bruce nodded. His body responded faster than his mind could comprehend the sentence that left the troublemaker’s mouth. He let his head drop, hair falling in front of his vision as he let something similar to a whine. “ Well, I .. I live kind of far, I think.” The male wasn’t lying, - he wasn’t exactly sure which direction his house was, actually, so bringing Vance could potentially result in a two-hour walk with no sense of direction.
“You can crash at mine if you want.”
Bruce felt baffled, with no words coming out of his mouth, he was positive he looked like a complete drunkie currently, hunched over his bike as he contemplated what to say next. His stomach turned from the position and amount of alcohol he consumed. He ended up agreeing, and in some odd way Vance understood, - he was certain he simply mumbled something under his breath, although Vance took it as consent to bring the other to his house. The Asian hopped off his bicycle, slow and steadily for his own good, - he didn’t feel like embarrassing himself more than he already has by falling, and tripping over the bicycle, or worse, himself, multiple times, - Vance grabbed the vehicle by its handles, taking it from Bruce’s grasp, - even though the raven-haired boy didn’t say it verbally, he was extremely thankful, he was too drunk to drive that thing.
The walk was quiet yet eventful, - Bruce tripping over the cracks in the sidewalk they were walking on multiple times, and at some point, the two boys decided to ride a bicycle together. Bruce Yamada never knew this side of Vance Hopper existed, - it felt wrong, in a way, with how violent and criminal-like the other acted publically usually, it almost didn’t feel like him.
Bruce didn’t realize how slow he was walking until Vance told him to hurry up or else ‘he’ll just go without him’, the younger hasn’t sped up, however, his body was too tired to do so. At one point, - Bruce couldn’t exactly remember when, though he remembers the actual touch vividly, - after countless amounts of hands rubbing against each other, mostly due to Bruce’s tiredness and inability to not swing his hands back and forth as they walked, - and Bruce’s hands against Vance’s waist as they rode the bicycle down the road, - one of them has had enough. It was quite cold, anyways, they could use the heat, - and if nobody saw, it hasn’t have happened.
The Asian can’t pinpoint the exact moment it happened, he recalls something with a blue house and the sign North Street, he believes, though Vance locked their hands together, excusing himself as ‘not being patient enough to wait for Bruce trailing behind him.’
Bruce remembers the alcohol almost wearing off completely at that moment, his cheeks being painted a dusty pink, - Vance’s were a deep shade of crimson, although he wasn’t too sure, the blonde would turn his head away from Bruce when the other tried to look. Bruce thought it was cute. Vance thought it was adorable as well, how the other could fluster so easily, quickly falling silent as their fingers intertwined.
Placing Bruce’s bicycle carefully against one of the walls of the caramel-colored house, he made sure to lock the bike lock, as Bruce asked him to. Bruce stared at the boy absent-mindedly, taking note of his features, his clothes, and his face . Vance was pretty in Bruce’s mind, and he wasn’t sure if it was actually his drunken mind talking.
Bruce took in the aroma of the blonde’s room, - he still couldn’t fully believe he was in Vance Hopper’s house, half expecting to be woken up by his parents by now. This had to be a dream because there was no way Vance’s house was neatly decorated with flowers and nicely placed family decorations. It definitely wasn’t similar to his house, and Bruce wishes his parents were maximalists sometimes, so the male could feel a similar feeling of care lingering in the air of his own house as he did when he walked through the hallway and kitchen. Vance’s room was messy, as Bruce expected.
There wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for the boy, Bruce could see the outlines of where holes were punched in his walls, as well as multiple rock band posters hung up on his walls, - the boy wasn’t stupid, it was most likely to cover up more of said holes in walls. His parents would kill him if he did that. He watched as Vance lay down on his bed, sprawling his arms out as he stretched with a barely audible yawn, Bruce laid next to him after a few seconds of mindlessly staring at the blonde. His vision entirely focused on the boy next to him as the other smiled slightly. There was no conversation between the two, the only sound in the room being their un-synced breaths, Bruce could feel himself phasing in and out of consciousness as sleep began to overtake him. He wasn’t opposed, he liked the sound of sleeping next to Vance.
He heard Vance mumble something, stealing a quick glance at Bruce, - who noticed his odd facial expression, almost as if the blonde was hurt from something he said. The Asian let out a sound of confusion, praying the other gets the hint to repeat what he said. He let out another, muffled by his mouth, noise of approval as the other exhaled through his nose, “ I don’t fucking like that guy, Joshua.”
Bruce looked at the blonde, confusion visible on his face, - what has Joshua possibly done for Vance to remember him and speak of him like this? There was an awkward pause, both boys simply looking at each other as their cheeks turned a slight pink. Vance never looked away, maintaining eye contact as he reached out to touch Bruce’s cheek. Fuck, Bruce felt himself shutter as the blonde touched him so delicately as if he was made out of the highest quality porcelain. “ I don’t like how he is with you, Bruce.”
His words felt like fire on his body, - his warm breath caressing Bruce’s face softly as simply stared at the blonde, his lips parting slightly as he watched Vance sneak glances at the raven-haired’s lips. Bruce almost wanted to swipe his tongue against them with how dry they suddenly felt.
“
So touchy,”
Vance’s hand wandered further, cupping Bruce’s cheek as his thump slightly pressed into his mouth.
It felt like a fever dream, Bruce was positive he was going to wake up any second now.
The alcohol inside his body seemed to melt into the boy's heart, making it beat
so
obnoxiously loud, - it was almost pathetic. “
I gave him a warning once,”
Bruce closed his mouth, giving into Vance’s soft, yet somehow harsh at the same time, touch as he listened to Vance speak, taking turns to look at the boy's lips, fuck, they were so close to each other. “Did he ever tell you? About what I said to him?” ,- and Bruce felt himself move on autopilot, signalizing to Vance he didn’t know what the other meant. The raven-haired boy couldn’t stop himself from getting red, getting so embarrassed so quickly all because of the other boy’s actions, - it definitely wasn’t his drunk mind talking, because God, he felt stone-cold sober.
Vance’s eyebrows furrowed, his lips pressing to create a slight smirk on his face, - it felt taunting. “Good.” The blonde whispered quietly, catching a quick look at Bruce’s lips for the last time before he leaned in, Bruce kissing him back as soon as he felt his lips on his, and in a matter of seconds the quick kiss turned desperate, - as if Bruce longed for it for eternity.
Vance pressed himself further into Bruce’s mouth, his hand catching some of the boy’s hair in his grasp, it was harsh, it was passionate, and it was needed.
Bruce felt light-headed, whether it’d be because of the lack of oxygen, - Vance didn’t seem like he was stopping anytime soon, and neither did Bruce, to be honest, - or the alcohol still stirring inside of his body. And, fuck, - Vance’s quiet groans were music to his ears, both of them panting like dogs as they yearned for so much more.
He didn’t know how they got to this, - besides the moment at the party, his memory felt dizzy and his mind was betraying him as he sinfully kissed Vance Hopper. He didn’t care that it was wrong, he didn’t care about Joshua, nor anyone else besides the blonde at this current moment.
Both of Bruce’s hands held Vance’s face in place, - as if the male would disappear into the dark, cold, night if he didn’t, - at some point Vance shifted their positions, Bruce’s mind being too fogged up with what was already happening to take notice. All he knew was that Vance Hopper was on top of him, kissing him hungrily as the Asian boy yearned for more of his touch, - for this to never end.
He felt high, he never did drugs, however, if he had to imagine how it felt like - it’d be this.
They were panting hard, stopping for seconds to catch their breaths when Bruce’s breaths got rapid and Vance took the hint, - as if he knew Bruce like the back of his hand. It was all teeth and tongue, exploring each other's mouths, and when Bruce whined accidentally from the pleasure the blonde thought he was going to go insane.
“ Fuck,” Was all the boy said, - in a tone that sent butterflies to Bruce’s stomach, he never understood the concept of that phrase until now, the butterflies infesting his abdomen as his pants became significantly tighter with every kiss they shared,- retracting his mouth from Bruce’s swollen lips, and Bruce would have gone into panic if Vance didn’t immediately attach his lips to his jaw, then neck, leaving a trail of kisses as he traveled lower. The blonde sucked on the other’s skin, kissing his Adam’s Apple as the other’s hands came in touch with Vance’s gorgeous blonde hair, - tugging at it softly as Vance let out noises of approval. He heard Vance whisper, most likely to himself, though Bruce couldn’t help but be curious about the words that came out of the blonde’s mouth.
A particular spot on his neck, - where Vance had decided to mark him up, - had his breath hitch as one of his hands went to cover his mouth immediately. His eyes closed themselves, Bruce barely felt like he had control over his body anymore, - he felt his nails dig slightly into the skin on his face as he let out an audible sound that made Vance stop and scoff, smirking, - Bruce moaned, crimson-red face shameful as he covered it with his hand. The older retracted the other’s hand from his face, although needing to use a bit of force, - barking out a raspy “ Bruce.” to get the male to take his hand away from his mouth. His arms were pinned, one on each side of the Asian male’s head as he stared at Vance, eyes filled with desperation and raw need.
God, what was Vance going to do with him?
