"Did you ever think," Jenko whispered, "that, like, the universe has a plan for us?"
"Dude," Schmidt said, "you were supposed to confiscate it, not smoke it."
"I didn't smoke it! It's right there in my pocket." He tilted his hips and the bag crackled. No way could Schmidt miss hearing that at such close range. Hell, at such close range he could probably feel it.
"Then what's all this talk about the universe?"
"I'm just saying. First we have to stick our fingers in each other's mouths in a public restroom. Then you have to pretend to blow me in a Peter Pan costume. Then we have to pose as a couple during New Student Week. Then you fall in the lake at the freshman camp-out and I have to save you from hypothermia. And now we have to spend hours hiding out in a very small broom closet until the last frat guy passes out."
"How is that," Schmidt began, scrubbing his sweaty face against Jenko's shoulder in the dark, and Jenko said, "I'm just saying, maybe this shit is going to keep happening to us until we accept our fate. Maybe gay sex is, like, our destiny."
It was too dark to read Schmidt's expression, but his voice sounded confused. "Do you want to have gay sex with me?"
"No! No way! One hundred percent invested in a future of straight, heterosexual sex, with women, who have breasts and pussy and actually think 'Sex and the City' is interesting."
"'Sex and the City' is instructive from a fashion point of view, if nothing else," Schmidt said. "In the area of shoes, it really set a trend."
"Dude, how do you smell so good?" The closet was so small that Jenko couldn't take a deep sniff without pressing their bodies tightly together as his chest expanded.
"Suave, uh, Suave Two-In-One, pina colada -- bro, are you humping me?"
"No! It's a very small closet."
"You are totally humping your hard-on against my hip."
"It's the contraband," Jenko said without much hope. "I wouldn't do that to you, buddy, even if I had a hard-on, which I absolutely --"
The word was cut off in a grunt when Schmidt's hand fell on his crotch. "I knew it."
"You're groping me."
"I knew it."
"You're feeling me up. Not cool."
"I don't know. I think maybe you're liking it."
He was totally liking it. Schmidt was outlining Jenko's cock with his fingers, pressing his thumb below the head, surehanded and confident. "Schmidt, don't," Jenko said thinly, and then almost swallowed his tongue when Schmidt unfastened his pants and dug without hesitation down into his shorts. "Fuck, you've got good hands." He hadn't meant to say that out loud, but Schmidt's face was so close to his that he could feel him smiling. "This is funny to you?"
Schmidt nudged the sides of their faces closer together, still smiling. "You're into me. It makes me happy."
"I'm not into -- really? It makes you happy?"
"It's a compliment." Schmidt got his other hand under Jenko's balls, and fuck. "You like that? Yeah, you like it."
"Fuck. Handkerchief, kleenex, something, now, now --" He groped out and grabbed the first absorbent-feeling thing that came to hand, not a second to lose as Schmidt managed to squeeze and aim at the same time -- "Fucking fuck!"
"Shh," Schmidt said, but he sounded pleased. "Don't want to get caught," and then Jenko could feel him laughing.
"It's a mop. Dude, you just fucked a mop."
"Gross! Jesus!" He shrank back, picturing some grimy, stringy thing.
"Hey, hey, relax. It's a clean mop."
"Then I guess you won't mind if I use it on you." He worked Schmidt's pants open one-handed, brandishing the mop (which actually felt fluffy and clean and dry, mostly) with the other, and Schmidt hissed through his teeth. "What?" Jenko said, and then realized he had Schmidt's hard-on in his hand.
Schmidt's cock was really hard. And, what the fuck, it was bigger than Jenko's, was there no justice? He was bigger than Schmidt in the shoulder and the thigh and basically everywhere except where it mattered. "Dude, you're huge."
Schmidt's hips stuttered weakly. "Not really."
"Bigger than mine." He pulled nice and slow.
"You just had it in your hand. Don't tell me you didn't notice."
"I was paying attention to other, oh, fuck, Jenko, yeah."
"Yeah?" Now he got why Schmidt had smiled, because that yeah and the sound of Schmidt swallowing, licking his lips, and the feel of his cock leaking all over Jenko's hand, it was -- cool. Cool.
He put his mouth right next to Schmidt's ear and said, "You need the mop, baby?" and Schmidt said, "Shit," and grabbed out weakly, so it was up to Jenko to aim the mop before too much spunk got on his hands.
Schmidt leaned his head back against the wall. "Shiiiiit," he sighed. Jenko could just make out his face, flushed and relaxed, and then Schmidt started laughing softly, and Jenko laughed, too, rubbing his face in Schmidt's pina-colada-scented hair.
Slowly Schmidt's snickers faded out. Slowly he tipped his head back.
Jenko squeezed his eyes shut and touched his mouth to Schmidt's.
Schmidt's mouth opened. Jenko didn't slobber over him, but he pressed his lips over and between Schmidt's, until it was stupid to say he was doing anything but kissing him. He was kissing his partner on the mouth.
He liked it.
"So," Schmidt said without moving his mouth away, "you're thinking the universe will quit trying to set us up now that it's gotten what it wants?"
Jenko licked out, lightning-fast, just to hear Schmidt gasp.
"I hope not," he said.