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Intoxicant

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When Tavares leans in to kiss Zeke, his nose wrinkles at the smell of liquor on his younger lover’s breath.

"You smell like a bar," Tavares says, frowning when Zeke wobbles a bit and has to clutch at a nearby table in order to steady himself. "You’re not old enough to drink, Zeke. No wonder Sasha called me to come get you."

Zeke giggles, slumping against the wall as his body shudders from the strength of his laughter.

"I’m not old enough for anything, Tav," Zeke points out with a wild smile on his face.

With his dark hair hanging tangled around his face and his cheeks flushed from the liquor in his system, Zeke looks as though he’s just been pulled out of someone’s bed. He looks lovely and Tavares is hard-pressed to hold on to his mild worry as he looks at his young lover.

Zeke’s fingers flex as he looks up at Tavares and he wriggles in place as though the very thought of being still is annoying. “I’m barely old enough for sex, but that hasn’t stopped anyone here.”

Frowning, Tavares reaches for Zeke. He pulls Zeke into a tight embrace, dipping his head so that he can rub his cheek against the side of his young lover’s face and offer comfort the only way he can outside of their shared bedroom back at the store.

Even with the faintly sour smell of alcohol that reaches his nostrils, Zeke still smells good enough that Tavares wants to gather him close and lick him all over. However, Zeke does smell more like strange humans and their desires than Tavares likes to think of and he makes a note to try and fix that change in scent once Zeke isn’t falling over drunk.

"I think we should speak with Sasha later," Tavares says, not relishing the task of talking to Zeke’s oldest friend about something like this. "I don’t like that you were drinking so much —"

Zeke reaches up and covers Tavares’ mouth with the cupped palm of one hand.

"Wasn’t a lot," Zeke mutters. "I barely had a cup’a the stuff after my cup and it left me like this. It’s weird and I feel hot.” Zeke wiggles just so, pressing close so that Tavares can feel the bulge of his erection through his tight pants, and then sighs at their closeness. “But you’ll make it better. I know it.”

Tavares sighs and reaches back so that he can curve his fingers in against the cool and sweat-dampened skin of Zeke’s back just under that slow twitching tail. “What did Sasha let you drink this time?”

Zeke shakes his head, sending dark hair flying in front of his face. “Not Sasha,” he says in a slow drawl. “Nagi. He let me drink from his cup during the party when my stuff was done. He said that f-fair wine was too good not to share.”

Zeke’s phrasing confuses Tavares who frowns down at his little lover. “Fair wine,” he repeats. “Are you sure you don’t mean —” Something clicks within Tavares’ mind and he swears with great force as the realization hits him. “Please don’t tell me you drank fey wine, Zeke.”

The deepening flush that steals across Zeke’s cheeks and nose is more than enough of an answer for Tavares.

"Do you know what fey wine does to our kind?"

Sighing softly, Zeke tilts his head back so that his hair can tumble across his back and bare his throat to Tavares’ gaze. “No. I don’t know,” he says softly. “And I don’t want to know. What I want is for you to touch me properly because I feel so damn hot right now.”

Worry strikes Tavares and he ignores his body’s frustrating need to mouth at Zeke’s throat in favor of touching the back of one hand to his lover’s neck and forehead.

"You’re not in rut are you?" he asks, eyes narrowing as he takes in the sight of Zeke’s flushed complexion and the way that Zeke’s body seems primed with arousal. "Sometimes the fey wine can start —"

Huffing, Zeke pushes Tavares’ hands away, leaving him devoid of touch for several seconds before he frowns and pulls Tavares back in until their bodies are once again pressed together. “I’m not in rut,” he hisses. “I’m just… I want you to touch me, Tav!”

"I am touching you, Zeke," Tavares points out in a low tone of voice, half-gesturing at where Zeke’s groin is pressed up close against his thigh. "If you want more from me, we’re just going to have to go back home. After last time, I’m not doing anything with you where your clients or Sasha can catch us."

Zeke whines. “It was just the once,” he breathes.

"She stood there and watched me fuck you," Tavares says lowly. "And when we were done, she gave me pointers on how to do better. I’m not risking it." Leaning in, Tavares presses a slow kiss to Zeke’s wine-stained lips. "Let’s go. If we take the back way home, we can be there before the effects get worse."

Zeke’s eyes widen. “Wh-what? I can’t —” His mouth opens and closes, but his sentences remain unfinished as he gives Tavares an utterly devastated look.

Tavares is hopeless against such a look. Leaning down, Tavares presses a light kiss to one corner of Zeke’s mouth. When he pulls back, Zeke whines again and reaches for him with shaking fingers.

"Wrap your arms around me," Tavares says, already working to undo the buttons on Zeke’s pants so that he can get his hands on Zeke’s soft skin. "This should help take the edge off."

He kisses Zeke again once Zeke does what he’s ordered, opening his mouth for a deeper kiss that muffles the crooning moan that Zeke tries to make at that first touch of skin to skin. As he kisses Zeke, Tavares strokes him off with firm strokes of his hand, uttering little groans of his own at how good Zeke feels in his hand. If they were anywhere else Tavares would already be on his knees, but he remembers the embarrassment of their last time in the brothel all too well.

Thanks to the fey wine in Zeke’s system, Tavares barely has to do any work at all to leave Zeke whimpering and thrusting his hips in a shaky, disjointed rhythm that can’t possibly be giving him much pleasure. At first, Tavares doesn’t think Zeke is going to come any time soon despite the intoxicant making his limbs get loose and threaten to collapse underneath him, but then —

Zeke’s mouth falls open and a quiet moan pushes out past his lips. He comes in that next moment, spilling all over Tavares’ hand as Tavares strokes him through his climax.

When Zeke can talk again, his voice comes out in a hushed tone and his fingers stroke wide circles over the nape of Tavares’ neck. “Can we go home now?”

Tavares kisses Zeke again and then pulls back slightly so that he can direct a mild frown at his dirty hand. “Can you show me where the washroom is first? I can’t hold your hand like this.”

"Y-yeah," Zeke says with a small smile, seeming more subdued after his climax. He smiles for a moment, rocking up on the tips of his toes so that he can kiss Tavares without making the other demon lean down to kiss him. "I won’t drink that again. Who know what would’ve happened if Sasha hadn’t called you…”