It all starts with a game of truth or dare.
Will really wishes he was joking. At the ripe old age of 22, bullying kids on the internet and playing a game reserved for 12 year old girls at sleepovers. Everything had gone downhill since he’d met Stephen Tries, he decides.
There’s a lanky blonde fuck covered in alcohol stains throwing things at him, and Will’s thinking that the image of Brian in a bra will probably be burnt into his retinas for at least the next month. Vik lies sprawled across the floor, dead to the world, and Freya and Josh had already made the highly intelligent decision to retire home and leave the kids to their own devices.
The night had started off so promising, and yet.
There’s a call of his own name, and when he raises his eyes in that general direction he’s met with a glint in George’s eye that he knows means he really doesn’t want to hear the next words that come out of his mouth.
And there it is.
The answering screech that comes from said boys mouth is heard immediately, and there’s a blotch of red creeping up his neck as he protests feebly. It’s nice, Will thinks drunkenly. Pretty. Stephen’s pretty.
It’s definitely the alcohol and not the tail end of that thought which results in him shrugging his shoulders, he tells himself, as Stephen continues to gape, startled.
They’re already sitting next to each other, of course they are, pressed together, personal space a foreign concept between them as it always has been.
He leans in, and his alcohol-induced brain fails to register the way Stephen’s eyes drop to his mouth, the dark blush on his cheeks intensifying as he swallows nervously. The rational, sober part of him wonders what the hell he’s doing. The other side of him, the one he’s kept carefully buried for far too long, wants to hear the other boy as he gasps beneath him. It’s that side that wins out as he presses forward and their lips lock.
Will’s laughing into his mouth as they try to establish some sort of rhythm, and then their lips drag together and suddenly he isn’t laughing anymore. The temperature of the room skyrockets in the space of a second, and the heat pooling in his stomach is a sure sign that he needs to pull away right about now. But Stephen tilts his head, testing the waters as their lips press again, and the tentative way he’s kissing him does something to Will. There’s electricity crackling through his veins and a fire in his heart which fails to dwindle even when their lips separate.
They laugh it off. Of course they do. A drunken snog between mates. Just dudes being bros. Strategically ignoring the curious smirks the others are sending their way, but Stephen’s laugh is too high and put-on and his eyes are too wide.
He’s not entirely sure what happens after that.
He’s spaced out for the next few minutes, but every time he risks a glance at Stephen the other boy is already staring at him, and he knows he isn’t imagining the heat in his gaze before his eyes snap away.
He wants to kiss him again. He really, really wants to kiss him again.
The next time their eyes meet, he doesn’t allow Stephen to break their gaze, darting a hand out to curl around his wrist.
Stephen swallows again, nervously, and this time Will notices, eyes tracking the movement of his tongue as it wets his lips. When his eyes slide back up to meet Stephen’s, the darkness surrounding the other boys pupils makes his stomach tighten.
He leans in minutely, and Stephen jumps up, spewing some half-assed lie about needing some air before slinking outside.
Will blinks, the spell between them broken. He feigns nonchalance as he moves to watch whatever kind of dance battle Alex and Caspar are currently involved in, but even with his head spinning he can’t ignore the looks Gee and Talia are directing towards him.
If only to escape the knowingness written all over his roommate’s face, and not because he can’t handle letting Stephen out of his sight - obviously not - he sighs and moves to follow him.
The cold air that hits his face as he steps out the door is a welcome oxymoron to the warmth of sweaty bodies that had gathered inside.
It barely takes him a second to locate Stephen, leaning over the balcony, and his mind is racing as he makes his way towards him. The boy stiffens when Will touches his waist lightly. He doesn’t move, not until the other spins him around gently, and when Will gets a look at him he notices his eyes are screwed shut.
“Look at me.” He mumbles, voice low, and when Stephen obeys he’s struck by his beauty. The dim moonlight casts shadows over his face and if this what heaven looks like he wants all of it.
“Will,” He murmurs, voice trembling and eyes wide as they search his face. "I don't know what I'm doing."
Will's mouth feels dry, and his throat is too tight, and there's a feeling in his chest that he doesn't understand and a look in Stephen's eye that's too much for him to handle. The chill of the night was enough to sober him up slightly, but the alcohol in his system is still there, and it sends his mind reeling. He can't think straight, can only replay the way the other boys mouth had opened up underneath his moments earlier, can only think about feeling it again.
He grips Stephen's forearms and presses forward, kissing him deep and slow. And Stephen sighs into his mouth, shakily, lets himself be pressed into the wall, lets the slick slide of their lips have total control over him. His heart is racing as Will licks into his mouth, swallowing the whimper that escapes past his lips. The noise must do something to Will because there’s hands digging into his waist, and a body pressing even closer to his. A strangled groan falling from his lips as he realises his dick is straining against his jeans.
This time when they pull apart neither of them go far. Warm breathes still mingling as they fail to catch their breaths.
Stephen’s hair is dishevelled, his cheeks flushed beautifully, and his eyes are hooded. The tension between them is palpable and Will comes to the conclusion that he needs him right about now.
Somehow they make it to his own flat, the warmth of Stephen’s hand a solid weight in his own the whole time, shooting a quick message off to Gee to let her know that they’d left, and he ignores the winking face he gets in response.
For the first time he learns what it’s like to have Stephen underneath him, categorising the different sounds he draws out from him. The sharp intakes of breath when he nuzzles his jaw and presses open-mouthed kisses to his neck. The delicious whimpers when their hips slide together. The high-pitched moans and groans of his name as Will fucks him into the mattress and he comes around him, seeing stars.
There’s a sudden overwhelming feeling of awkwardness that he’s never felt before around Stephen when he wakes up first, the older boy curled up in his arms, but it dissipates when his eyes flutter open and he smiles shyly at him.
He kisses him again.
And he doesn’t stop.
(There’s a shit-eating grin on Gee’s face when they finally cross paths, and Alex and George barrel into the flat at about 12am to scream at them about not telling them and “think about the views man they’re gonna be mad people love the gays.”
Will spends the next few months of his life faced with knowing smirks from everyone he knows and unnecessary squeals from the girls whenever he and Stephen so much as look at each other.
He hates his friends. But the shy grin on Stephen’s face makes everything worth it.)