It's a normal Thursday morning. Jesse and Andrew are sitting at opposite sides of the kitchen table, Jesse with his laptop open in front of him and a pen twisting between his fingers, while Andrew nurses a cup of coffee and tries not to stare too obviously at Jesse's nipples.
The bathroom door bangs open and moments later, Justin walks into the kitchen, trailing steam and the water he was too lazy to scrub out of his hair.
"Morning, losers," he says, kicking the foot Andrew has propped up on one of the spare chairs on his way towards the fridge.
"Morning," Jesse mumbles without looking up from the screen. Andrew takes another mouthful from his cup.
Justin leans against the counter and chugs orange juice straight out of the cartoon.
"You're coming to Bartha's party tonight, right?" he asks.
"Yeah," Jesse says, frowning when something on the screen catches his attention.
Andrew nods absently, watching Jesse's fingers dance over the keys, the pen temporarily forgotten on the table.
"And are you going to do that embarrassing thing where you pine for each other all night and then end up making out fully clothed in someone's bedroom for two hours?"
Andrew's face flushes hot, but Jesse just shrugs, as if this is a completely normal topic of conversation (and with Justin it is).
"Probably not," he says. He sounds almost disappointed. "I have class tomorrow so I'm only having three beers."
Justin frowns and looks to Andrew for clarification. Andrew just blushes silently into his cup.
Emma was the one that formulated the Jesse + beer equation; Andrew still has the paper she wrote it down on stuffed into of one of his desk drawers. Basically it looks like this:
Jesse + xBeer = y * x
X is a number, usually 1-4 and y means cuddle. One beer won't bring on much of a change, maybe Jesse will hold himself a little less rigidly and give himself over to hugs a little more willingly, but that's about it.
Two beers mean that Jesse will give himself fully to the cuddles, not trying to break out of them because he thinks he should, or because he's overcome by a sudden certainty that people hate him and think he's overbearing. Andrew can do a lot with two beers.
Three beers mean that Jesse will initiate cuddles, worming himself in under someone's arm and leaning in to their personal space, or simply sliding down into someone's lap. Andrew likes three beers; he's spent many nights with Jesse perched on his lap in someone's messy living room discussing the relative merits of the Russian revolution or whatever else might have been covered in class that day.
Four beers mean that Jesse will make out with Andrew, slick and slow with his arms wrapped around Andrew's neck and their chests pressed together through their shirts. Four means he won't stiffen when Andrew touches his back under his shirt, but rather tilt his head back and smile wide and easy. Andrew wishes Jesse would drink four beers every night and then feels like a really bad person for wishing alcoholism on his best friend.
Andrew has never been around for Jesse drinking more than four beers, but sometimes he toys with the thought of interrupting their make out session to introduce a fifth beer into the mix. Then he feels like a bad person for having thoughts about coercing Jesse into having sex with him and reminds himself that if they're ever having sex it would be when they’re fully sober.
Sometimes it's hard to keep that in mind though with Jesse rubbing up against him, breath coming out in gasped whimpers, and his hands on Jesse's narrow back. He's pretty sure Jesse lost his virginity to a five-beer night in between his freshman and junior year. Jesse never elaborated on the experience: he just told Andrew that it happened, eyes trained on the floor and hands moving in butterfly flutters at his sides. Thinking about it still makes Andrew's chest ache a little, so he tries to never let his thoughts stray in that direction.
Justin Bartha, or The Other Justin as roommate Justin likes to call him, is Jesse's friend. He’s the first friend Jesse made at college (aside from Andrew) and there's always this pride in his voice when he talks about Justin that Andrew thinks has less to do with Justin and more to do with the fact that Jesse made a friend. Andrew spent the first few weeks of knowing Justin hating him passionately before he realized that Justin had no designs on Jesse's virtue and Andrew started to like him. Andrew is fickle like that.
Justin shares a house with two other guys, Joe and Mike, on the outskirts of campus and by the time Andrew walks in, the party is already in full swing. There are people everywhere and music is blaring from the laptop set up on a table. Andrew spots Jesse right away, his curly head bent close to Justin's as they talk about something – probably anthropology, if he knows Jesse right – and there's a beer clutched loosely in Jesse's hand.
Jesse is wearing one of his stupid too tight t-shirts, the short sleeves hugging his slim pale arms and the cotton clinging obscenely to his chest. Even from across the room, Andrew can tell that his nipples are stiff, the tight hard peeks visible through the thin cotton of his shirt and for a moment, Andrew forgets how to breathe. It's a good thing he's taken to wearing the tightest underwear known to man, because he pops boners looking at Jesse seven times a day. Andrew is a horrible best friend.
"Andrew," Jesse says, loose and happy, when Andrew makes it across the room. His head bumps against Andrew's stomach when he tilts it back and Andrew bites back a very embarrassing moan.
Andrew's pretty sure he doesn't even have a beer-to-cuddle equation. If he has an equation, it looks like this:
Andrew + Jesse = yyyy (Beer?)
Because Andrew is that friend, the creepy one that always lurks in the background and pops boners looking at his best friend’s nipples. It would probably be slightly less embarrassing if not everyone knows that Andrew is that friend. Just last week, Andrew overheard a couple of freshmen he's never met in his entire life discussing his crush on Jesse. He's like a creepy British school legend.
"Andrew," Justin says and they exchange polite nods.
Justin looks amused, but that seems to be his standard look whenever Andrew is around. Jesse gets up from the chair and pushes Andrew down to sit. Then he straddles Andrew's lap, ass pushed up against Andrew's stomach, and leans his elbows against the table. He has to be able to feel that Andrew's hard, there's just no way he can miss it with Andrew's cock pretty much hugged between his ass cheeks, but he doesn't comment or shift away, he just dives straight back into his conversation with Justin.
Justin slides a beer across the table, towards where Andrew has a white knuckled grip on the table and Andrew grabs it thankfully, busying himself with gulping it down in one long continuous pull. Then he burps into the crook of his elbow and drinks the second beer Justin offers him at a more sedate pace.
He tries to keep up with Justin's and Jesse's conversation, but linguistic anthropology is not his strong suit and it's really hard to think with the way Jesse occasionally shifts against him. He's thankfully distracted for a while by Emma pulling up a chair to discuss their latest assignment, but she's soon pulled away to the kitchen for a serious girl talk with her roommate and Andrew is left to contemplate the state of his life with his forehead pressed into Jesse's back.
"What time is it?" Jesse asks suddenly, twisting around to look at Andrew over his shoulder.
"I could have another beer then," Jesse says thoughtfully. He catches Andrew's eyes. "Do you think I should have another beer, Andrew?"
Andrew flushes down to his collarbones and bites helplessly at his lower lip. A good friend would say no, a good friend wouldn't already be picturing Jesse's mouth against his, a good friend wouldn't continuously take advantage of his tipsy best friend. Across the table Justin's laughing at them, Andrew's pretty sure.
"If you want to," Andrew says weakly, staring into Jesse's gorgeous blue eyes. "I… uh… I'm always in favor of… uhm... four beers."
Jesse smiles, one of his real smiles, the one that punches dimples into his cheeks and makes Andrew's chest feel too tight.
"Okay," he says.
They end up in the second floor bathroom because it was the only unoccupied room with a door that locked. Jesse with his back against the door, mouth open against Andrew's and Andrew pressed up all along his front, one leg slid in between Jesse's narrow thighs.
"This is okay, right?" Andrew murmurs, sliding his lips against Jesse's cheekbone. "I'm not taking advantage."
"Yeah," Jesse breathes, letting his head thump back against the door. "This is good."
Andrew pulls back slightly too look at Jesse's half lidded eyes and kiss-swollen lips. He groans, spanning his fingers across the small of Jesse's back.
He looks down to where Jesse's tiny nipples are straining against his shirt. He lifts one of his hands to curl around Jesse's ribcage on top of his t-shirt, thumb just inches from his nipple.
"Second base," Jesse says, but he's smiling, lower lip caught between his teeth.
"I can't stop looking at… I just…" Andrew cuts himself off, flushing bright red.
Jesse curls his hand loosely around Andrew's wrist, rubbing his fingers over Andrew's pulse point.
"They're really sensitive," he says, ducking forward to bury his head into Andrew's neck. "It's…"
His breath hitches and he pulls Andrew's palm up to rest over the slight swell of his pec, the nipple a hard point against Andrew's sweaty palm.
"Oh," he gasps, his free hand fisting into the back of Andrew's shirt. "That's…"
Andrew's heart bangs against his ribcage and he's so hard he feels faint with it. He moves his hand slightly, Jesse's fingers tightening on his wrist, until he can rub the pad of his thumb over the tight peak of Jesse's nipple.
Jesse groans, hips shuddering against Andrew's thigh and he bangs his head back against the door.
"Jesus," Andrew breathes, pressing a sloppy kiss to the corner of Jesse's open mouth. "Do you… do want me to stop?"
He rubs his thumb in a slow circle around the areola, pulling a breathless moan from Jesse's lips.
"No," Jesse breathes, chest heaving under Andrew's palm. "Keep… keep… oh… going."
Andrew brings his other hand up to touch Jesse's other nipple, keeping up the same soft-slow rubbing motion with both of his thumbs. He wonders if Jesse can feel his fingers trembling against his ribs.
Jesse lets go of Andrew's wrist in favor of fisting a hand into his hair, pulling him down for a messy breathless kiss. His hips are pulsing against Andrew's thigh in short helpless jerks, his breath coming out quick and ragged, and he moans, long and loud, when Andrew pinches his nipple lightly.
"Fuck," Andrew gasps, pressing his hips against Jesse's thigh to relieve the ache. "Are you… is this okay?"
They never went beyond fully clothed kissing before and this is… this is already the hottest sex Andrew has ever had in his life and he had sex in public once.
"Fuck yeah," Jesse groans, tightening his fingers in Andrew's hair. "Just… oh god…"
He trails off on another moan when Andrew pinches both his nipples at the same time, rubbing the tight peaks between his shaking fingers.
"Fuck, Jesse," Andrew murmurs, panting against Jesse's flushed cheek. "I want to… can I… I want to taste…"
Jesse shudders all over and pulls impatiently on Andrew's hair. Andrew takes that for permission, bending down awkwardly to kiss Jesse's nipple through his shirt, rubbing his slick lips over the hard nub.
Jesse's fingers tightens almost painfully in Andrew's hair, pulling him in and Andrew opens his mouth rubbing his tongue over the fuzzy cotton of Jesse's shirt until it sticks to his chest with slickness.
Jesse's pushing his hips up, trying to rub harder against Andrew's thigh, but the awkward angle Andrew bent himself into makes it impossible. Andrew pulls Jesse's nipple into his mouth, sucking it through his shirt while he rolls the other between his fingers.
"Andrew," Jesse groans hoarsely. "I'm going to… fuck…"
"Yeah, baby, come on," Andrew murmurs, mouth open against Jesse's chest. He wraps his free hand around Jesse's back, pulling him in.
"Oh, oh, oh… Andrew, I'm… oh…"
Andrew lifts his head, snapping his hips up against Jesse's just in time to watch him come. Jesse's eyes glaze over and his mouth falls open, letting out a soft keening whimper, fingers pulling hard on Andrew's hair. He shudders all over, hips pressed up against Andrew's and whimpers helplessly when Andrew thumbs at his nipple.
Andrew pulls his hand back when the whimpers edge towards uncomfortable and presses soft kisses to Jesse's gasping mouth.
"So gorgeous," he croaks. "Jess, you're so beautiful."
He knows the spell is broken when Jesse makes a self-deprecating sound at the back of his throat and pulls away from Andrew's hands.
"You are," Andrew says stubbornly.
He's so hard, he's throbbing with it, wet in his boxer briefs, but he doesn't know if it's okay to reach down and readjust himself, watching Jesse's face warily. Jesse blinks his eyes open, pupils still blown wide, and pulls Andrew closer.
"Kiss me," he mumbles and Andrew can hear the embarrassment there.
Andrew bends down, kissing him slow and soft, hips shifting unconsciously against Jesse's bony hip.
"Yeah, come on," Jesse murmurs. "Rub off on me."
Andrew stiffens, lifting his head. Jesse meets his gaze straight on, cheeks stained a deep crimson.
"I want you to," he whispers, worrying at his slick lower lips. "That's… uhm… that's okay, right?"
"Oh God," Andrew groans. "You have no idea how okay that is."
Jesse manages a weak chuckle, pressing his fingers into the small of Andrew's back. Andrew kisses him again, rubbing up against him with intent, and it takes about five seconds for him to come so hard he literally sees stars, hips stuttering against Jesse's hip.
Jesse moans weakly with him, running his hands over Andrew's arched back and it's quite possibly the best thing that ever happened to Andrew.
The aftermath is somewhat anticlimactic, the two of them furtively cleaning up and then sneaking out through the backdoor before someone can accost them. They walk back to their apartment building mostly in silence and once they're inside Jesse kisses Andrew's cheek, murmuring, "good night," before disappearing into his room.
Andrew doesn't really know what to make of that.