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You pull Gavin through the door, his arm over your shoulder and weight heavy on you. You stagger down the short hall without turning the lights on. You get to the couch in the living room and drop him on it. “Why are you so fucking heavy?”
“Dannnnn leftttt meeee, Michaeeeel,” he whines, drawing out the words with a slur, dragging one of the couch pillows over him and to his face to hide it. He kicks his feet slowly in the air and makes some groaning noises.
“I swear to god if you puke on my couch, you’re dead.” You fall into the armchair next to him.
“Come on, I’m not that drunk. But Michaeeeel, where’s Dan? He was supposed to drive me home. This isn’t my home,” he complains through the pillow.
“No it’s not. It’s mine. He got a girl, remember, dumbass?” you remind him idly.
“I’m not a dumbass! Stop calling me names, asshole!” he jumps up from the couch and stands in front of you, fists clenched and looking ready to skin you.
“I’ll call you a dumbass if you’re being a dumbass. And when you’re being you, you’re always being a dumbass,” you smirk.
“Oh! Oh! Take that back!” he commands you, hopping from foot to foot.
“Why the hell would I take back the truth?” you laugh. He stills and stares at you for a moment, watching your laughter, gears obviously turning slowly in his addled brain.
“Okay fine!” That’s when he decides that it’s a good time to jump you. His mass of bony limbs suddenly weighs on you fast and awkward knees and elbows poke into your stomach and bones.
“Ow FUCK!” you exclaim as the air is knocked out of you. That collision definitely left some bruises from where his bones slammed into yours. He’s trying to get you in a headlock you realize almost immediately. “You must be stupid; we’ve done this before,” you grunt, remembering game night a few months ago. You work quickly and push him over as you flip on top. You repeat the same motions from game night and shove your hand over his mouth and press him into the back of the armchair to restrain him.
Except instead of giggling and screeching behind your hand like he had game night, he bites it. You pull your hand away and shake it in the air. “YOU LITTLE SHIT!” you yell at him. He starts laughing, like it’s the best joke in the world, and you feel your muscles bunch up. You shove him, but that does no good since he’s already against the armchair.
In response Gavin grabs your shoulders and leans up. You’re confused until he leans in and bites you sharply on the neck.
“What-” you start to ask before he starts sucking. You groan a little involuntarily. “What do you think you’re doing?” Shit. You have to push him off, you know you do. But your hands, instead of going to the front of his shoulders go to the back and clench. They’re not listening.
He lets up for a moment. “You’re not going anywhere, Michael,” he notes, and you can feel him grin against your neck.
“I fucking hate you,” you gasp when he starts again, taking that as consent. Your hands are tight and your eyes clamp close as his teeth scrape the skin at the base of your neck. You shiver when he bites down and starts sucking lightly, dragging his tongue up the skin held between his teeth.
“Oh, it’s starting to get purple!” Gavin exclaims when he pulls back.
“You are so dumb, OF COURSE IT IS,” you sigh loudly.
“What did I say about that word?” he frowns.
“Dumbass, dumbass, dumbass, DUMBASS,” you chant, getting louder with each repetition.
“Hey!” his frown deepens and he grabs you, mimicking your earlier movements to get you under him. You’re taken by surprise, so he actually succeeds, but not for long. You grab his waist and wrestle him off the armchair entirely and onto the floor.
“Ow! Watch what you’re doing, you oaf!” he complains when you two hit the floor in a mess of limbs.
“Take your shirt off,” you say, and start to tug on it. You manage to get it halfway before Gavin grabs your hands.
“No way!” he says, starting to struggle to pull it back down while you try to get it off.
“You asked for it, you piece of-” you manage to get it all the way off with one last jerk and a rip, “shit!” You throw it away from both of you.
“You ripped it!” he looks up at you angrily from the ground, but you don’t care. You’re too busy staring at his heaving chest and the line of hair drawn from his stomach up. “Alright, your turn!” he leans up and starts to grip onto the bottom edge of your shirt and lifts it over your head roughly. You willingly let him, intent on memorizing the details of his newly revealed skin.
“Wh- what are you staring at?” Gavin asks, red pooling in his cheeks.
“Nothing,” you answer before leaning down and pressing your lips together. Your glasses fall off the edge of your nose onto his face and Gavin reaches up to pull them off and toss them to the side. You hear them crack against the floor and you grab his lower lip with your teeth in retaliation. He gasps as you chew on it, drawing blood after a few seconds. You lick his lip and taste the metal from the blood there.
He headbutts you and your teeth clack together. You manage to bite your lip in the process and taste your own blood mingle with Gavin’s on your tongue. “Shit!” you curse before Gavin grabs your hair with one hand and the side of your face with the other. And promptly initiates heavy tongue action.
“Someone’s eager,” you murmur when the two of you part. You start to feel a tightness in your pants and if the bulge pressed against your thigh is any indication, Gavin’s got one too. And you’re proven right when he unbuttons your pants and starts to pull them down. He pushes you over onto your back and crawls down, eye-level with your briefs.
“Gavin?” you question, knowing exactly what he’s thinking. Instead of replying, he opts to pull your underwear down and tentatively grab your dick. He drags his hand up and down and your breath hisses out.
“F-fuck, Gavin,” you mutter. He watches your reaction carefully, a small smirk on his face, the mischievous glint in his eyes still apparent. He picks up speed a little, before pressing his lips to your tip. His tongue pokes out of his mouth and swipes over the top of your head, spreading your pre-cum.
You groan a little as he wraps his lips around you. He can’t deepthroat you, but he compensates by dragging his hands up and down that extra length his gag reflex can’t take. He’s watching you the whole time as he licks and sucks. You’re beginning to idly wonder why and how he learned the technique.
You only last a few more minutes of his attention before you feel yourself reach your peak. “Gavin,” you say in a warning tone. He quirks his eyebrows at you, and continues on, without taking his mouth off you. You shrug internally and hit your climax. Your back arches off the ground slightly and Gavin pulls off after you’re done.
He crawls back up and smirks at you. You wonder for a moment if he spit out or swallowed before he kisses your lips softly. You kiss back tiredly and it’s not long before he open mouths you.
And promptly spits in your mouth.
You’re shocked for a moment. He giggles a little with the biggest, most radiant smile on his face. And then rapidly gets up and runs off laughing.
He just spit your own cum in your mouth.
“GAVIN! YOU FUCK!”