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You were getting dressed to go meet your friends for The Smashing Pumpkins' concert. You had been a fan of them for awhile but haven't ever heard of the opening band. 'Can't be horrible if they're opening for a band like The Smashing Pumpkins, right?' And with that, you slipped your black converse on and headed out the door.
Once you got there, you and your friends got some beers and sat down at a table. One of the guys gestured to a girl sitting at an adjacent table. "Y/N, this is Stacy; she's the bassist's sister." You waved awkwardly and looked around. There was an alternative girl with dyed hair, a guy with messy black hair, and some kid with brown hair holding another girl with split-dyed hair. "I'm Y/N." When you go to sooth your social anxiety, you find no beer in your glass, how disappointing.
While your friend introduces you to everyone you only half pay attention. "..mona, Wallace,..." You both look up at each other at the same time and make eye contact for a split second before you break it and look down at the ground.
"I'm- uhh...going to go get some more." You shake your glass so they don't think you just ran off. The black haired guy you now know as Wallace stands up. "I'll go with you." He smiles at you.
Stacy taps your shoulder and whispers to you; "By the way, Wallace is gay. Just a heads up!" You can almost feel how hot your face is. 'Oh, so that's why he was looking at me like that. So I have a chance.'
"You good- Y/N, was it?" Wallace snaps you out of your daze. "Hm? Oh yeah, I'm okay. Just greaaaaat."
He chuckles and it sounds like the best thing you've ever heard.
"I'm super out of it right now but do you want to come to my place after this?" You blurt out.
Wallace stands there, honestly a bit surprised at first—but he relaxes immediately. "Of course." The bartender comes and Wallace orders both of your drinks and you can't do anything but just stare at Wallace and how oddly calm and endearing he is.
"Y/Nnnnn?" Wallace calls out. "You coming?" You shake yourself out of it. "Mhm. yup. yeah. Coming!" You run back to the table.
—
After the show, everyone parted ways and all that was left was You, Wallace, and Ramona and her boyfriend. "Hey, I'm Scott: Wallace's roomate." He shakes your hand then swings over to Wallace, "Im staying at Ramona's tonight. So have fun doing whatever gay stuff you do!" Scott turns on his heel with Ramona and they start walking—presumably to her place.
"Whatever gay stuff we do." Wallace echos. "Wanna get to it?" You take a moment to process what he's insinuating but you nod and smile.
—
Once you two arrive to your house, you both immediately take off your coats. "Want a drink? I'm pretty good at making cocktails." Wallace asked.
"I think I'm already drunk enough. Besides, I'd rather a drink of you." You wink goofily at him and he rolls his eyes playfully.
"Come here." Without giving you time to even move, he pulled you into a deep kiss. So deep it could turn you sober again. It almost felt like fireworks went off inside and outside of you.
"Holy shit."
"Woah." You both say aloud.
You immediately pull him into another kiss and you begin taking off his shirt. You both undress each other one garment at a time until you're both left in your boxers.
You lead him into your bed and you gently push him down on it, which made him whine at the contact.
You back up just as you're about to kiss him and he looks—honestly—a bit disappointed. "Just so we're clear, we're about to fuck, right?" You wanted to at least ask for the man's consent before you fucked the living daylights out of him.
"Mhm, yeah. Yes." And that word was all you were looking for before you went back to messily and drunkenly making out with him. You moved lower and gave his throat a long lick, which gained somewhat of a sob from him.
Almost agonizingly, you run your hand down his chest, down his abdomen, down his thigh—to his crotch. You hum quietly. "I'm sure you don't want sloppy seconds, besides, I wouldn't be surprised if you could cum just from me talking to you." Even the teasing got him wound up.
You pulled his boxers off and you immediately noticed how hard he was. His dick was leaking pre-cum and almost turning a shade of mauve. 'Fuck,' the amount of things you want to do to this man are unspeakable.
Slowly, you started stroking him base to tip, making sure you'd both be satisfied by the end of this. You grasped his waist, and pulled your head down and sucked his head, carefully taking note of what got him the loudest.
Eventually, you could tell how close he was. Almost on the verge of begging you to let him cum- but no, "I want to see you cum without me touching you."
And that you did.
You swiftly flipped Wallace onto his front, and started fucking him hard. To the point where he was close to screaming.
He had his face stuffed in his pillow to avoid being so loud, but you could hear one very specific utterance: "Oh god. Oh Fuck."
You could feel him tense around you, not to mention the cum on the sheets.
You kept fucking him—effectively riding out his orgasm—until you felt yourself unwind to a familiar tingle that turned quickly to an orgasm for yourself.
"Fffuck." You sigh as your pull out and fall onto Wallace's mattress with him. He turns over to lay on your chest, deciding to worry about everything later.
"I think there was a spark." He mutters into your chest.
You chuckle. "You think?" You ask teasingly.