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Gary wishes he could say this whole thing was anyone else’s idea but his own.
At least that way, he could at least claim peer pressure. Could shift the blame if this backfires spectacularly. But the world isn’t fair, and Gary has no one to berate but himself as he stares down at the package that arrived for him today with trepidation.
He really isn’t obligated to get Collie anything for his birthday, which is coming up in two days; he’s nearly broke and they aren’t even technically dating yet. It’s a weird sort of limbo between just fucking and being together exclusively, and neither of them are willing to be the first to broach the topic. But the other night, while he was high as fuck and sleep deprived, something had compelled Gary to at least make an effort. One impulsive purchase later, here he is, having a crisis as he tries to work up the courage to rip the plastic open and get this over with.
Actually, maybe he should just return it. Yes, he’ll just bring it back to the campus mail room, claiming there was some sort of mistake in the address. That’s the smart decision.
“Fuck me,” Gary mutters out loud. He worries his lip between his teeth until he tastes blood. Finally he takes a deep breath and grabs the package to open it with trembling hands, turning it over and shaking it so that the contents fall out onto his bed.
The red of the lingerie set looks almost offensively bright against his dark bedsheets and blanket. It’s lacy and tiny and the sight of it makes Gary’s gut twist in a sickening way that makes him feel like he’s going to vomit. This was a mistake. This was a massive fucking mistake.
He doesn’t even know what drove him to purchase something like this in the first place; a gift card or something would’ve been less expensive and certainly less humiliating. Gary decides to just blame the weed for leading him to the Victoria’s Secret website at three in the goddamn morning and giving him the insane courage to click add to cart.
There’s a part of him, a part he’s been working so fucking hard to silence, that still spews vile words and curses at the idea of ever wearing something like this as a man. A voice that tells him the moment he touches what lies before him, everyone will know, will shun him and spit at him. He’ll be permanently stained, marked as a sissy, a freak.
Gary hits the side of his head once, twice, and the voice quiets down enough for him to take a deep breath to calm himself.
He should probably try it on, make sure it fits before the actual day comes and he makes himself look like an even bigger idiot. In fact, he thinks hopefully, maybe it won’t fit. That would give him an even easier way out. But the moment he picks up the corset, his stomach flips over as he stares at the ridiculously intricate lace and the way it dips in the middle, promising to expose way too much. Picturing that on himself…he can’t do it. Not yet.
He swears again and gathers the panties up too, hurrying to the bathroom to shove the whole thing away where no one else will find it. He thinks, not for the first time, how fucking lucky he was to get one of the few dorms with an attached bathroom; though he imagines the housing committee or whoever took one look at the psychiatric records he’d submitted with his request and immediately decided he really did need as much space to himself as possible.
He splashes some water on his face once he’s decided it’s sufficiently hidden, trying to get rid of the burning flush that goes all the way from the tips of his ears down to his neck. Collie won’t judge him for this—he won’t, he won’t, he won’t. Gary chants it in his head like a mantra.
It’s fine. He’s fine. He’s got time to figure this out, even if said time is painfully short.
Two days. He has two days to decide whether or not he’s going to risk ruining his life forever.
✯✯✯
Gary has been trying really, really hard to act normal all day, and he’s frankly exhausted by the time night rolls around on Collie’s birthday. He barely held it together throughout dinner with all the guys, to the point Olson had remarked on his twitchiness and Gary had to excuse himself to the bathroom to avoid snapping back and making a scene. Needless to say, by the time he finally gets Collie to himself, he feels like he’s about to combust from nervous energy.
The moment the door closes, Collie’s hands are on Gary’s waist, pulling him in to kiss him. Gary practically melts into it; they’ve barely touched at all today, given that they’ve practically spent the whole day with everyone else. Their…whatever they have going on isn’t exactly top secret, but Gary still feels awkward and uncomfortable being coddled in public, and Collie doesn’t seem to be one for PDA regardless.
But he can’t allow himself to get distracted. “Hold on,” Gary says, pressing a hand to Collie’s chest to push him back slightly. “I gotta go get something.”
“Hm?” Collie looks a little miffed at being stopped so suddenly. “Damnit, did you forget your wallet at the restaurant again? I told you to check before we left.”
“No, asshole. Just wait here,” Gary snaps, unable to keep the sharpness out of his tone, the defensive bite that always manifests when his fears bubble up too close to the surface. He bolts into the bathroom before Collie can get another word out and closes the door, locking it behind him for good measure.
He wriggles out of his clothes and boxers and tosses them aside; he’d lost his laundry basket ages ago and can’t be bothered to go buy a new one, leading to a concerning amount of ‘I’ll get to it later’ piles strewn about his living space. Now completely undressed, he tries to get his breathing under control as he crouches to get the bag he’s stuffed the lingerie set into, carefully wedged between spare paper towel rolls and a Windex bottle he’s never used in the counter below the sink, innocuous enough to go unnoticed by anyone who happened to look.
Gary’s heart is beating out of his chest as he straightens up and unzips the bag, placing it on the counter. When he pulls the garments from it his eyes dart back and forth from them to the door, mind buzzing with the irrational thought that the door will somehow fall apart or swing open and Collie will see everything before he’s ready. He shakes his head and glares at his reflection before turning away from it, so he doesn’t have to look at himself as he does this.
He puts the corset on first, struggling a bit with the numerous hooks. He tries to attach them in the back first before giving up and doing it all from the front, sliding it back around afterwards to adjust it. The fabric feels foreign against his skin, a bit scratchy but soft enough to be tolerable, at least for now.
He hesitates when it comes to the bottom half—somehow, this part is leagues more intimidating. He stares at the tiny slip of lace he’s holding, and he can’t imagine how it’ll cover anything at all. Maybe that’s the point, but still.
He’s taking too long, he knows. Collie is probably wondering what the fuck is going on, and he’s lucky there isn’t a window in this room, or else Gary might’ve taken the opportunity to escape out of it.
Finally, he gathers up every scrap of courage he has left and puts the panties on, nearly tripping over his own feet as he does so. His palms are sweating and he tries to wipe them off on his legs, which does absolutely nothing to help. Great. Just great.
Once everything is on properly, he dares to glance at himself in the mirror, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he takes it in. The red fabric seems even brighter against his pale skin. The corset gaps a little at the top, given that he has no bust to speak of, and he’s not sure the low cut of the panties is doing anything for his skinny thighs as the website claimed it would. But he doesn’t look terrible.
He could just walk out there like this—could, could, could. But his nerves win out again, and he puts his pants and shirt back on over the lacy garments. It’s kind of uncomfortable, but there’s no way he’ll find the willpower to do this any other way. This is Collie’s present, after all; he can unwrap it himself.
When he steps out of the bathroom, Collie is leaning against the wall, thumbs tucked into the pockets of his jeans. He raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t even change anything,” he says.
Gary flushes. “You’ll see in a minute,” he says. “Just—come here.” He reaches out to grab the front of Collie’s shirt and pull him forward. Maybe if he loses himself in the feeling of Collie’s lips against his, he’ll stop feeling like he’s going to puke everywhere.
Collie’s tongue swipes against his lips, and Gary opens his mouth, inviting him in. It’s slow at first, but that doesn’t last long—it never does. He groans as Collie’s hands find his hips and squeeze, and he stumbles a bit as Collie presses him forward, urging him back towards the bed.
His knees hit the side of it and he parts reluctantly from Collie in order to climb onto it properly. Collie kicks off his shoes and joins him, pulling Gary into his lap as he leans in to press his mouth to his neck. Gary whimpers, hands twining into Collie’s hair.
“You’re shaking,” Collie murmurs against his skin.
“Shut up,” Gary says, gasping as he feels teeth sink into his neck, aiming to bruise. He pulls at Collie’s hair harshly, drawing out a groan from the other man.
He can feel himself getting hard as Collie continues to mark up his neck. He’s not the only one; he can feel the outline of Collie’s cock through his jeans, and he rocks forward slightly. Collie hisses and squeezes Gary’s hip roughly in retaliation.
Then Collie’s hands slide up his shirt, and when his fingers meet the lacy edge of the corset, he freezes. Gary’s breath stutters.
After a moment, without saying anything, Collie’s hands continue their upward climb, warm fingers tracing over the delicate fabric, as if he’s still trying to figure out what he’s feeling. The silence is doing nothing good for Gary’s nerves, and he has to dig his nails into his palm to keep from jerking away and telling Collie to forget the whole thing entirely.
Finally, finally, Collie speaks up. “Is that…” he doesn’t finish his sentence.
“Yeah,” Gary answers hoarsely.
Collie’s tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Can I see?”
Gary can only nod, lifting his arms as Collie tugs at his shirt to get it off, tossing it to the floor carelessly.
“Holy shit,” Collie breathes out as he takes him in. Gary fights the urge to cross his arms over his chest.
“Don’t stare,” he snaps.
Collie huffs. “You’re wearing that and telling me not to stare?” He reaches out again, hands resting against the lace that stretches over Gary’s ribs. They trail downward to the bottom edge, fingers dipping under it to touch bare skin. Gary’s teeth press into his lip once more as he shivers. “When the hell did you get this?”
“Came in a few days ago,” Gary manages to say. His face feels like it’s about to burst into flames. “It’s…fuck. It’s part of a set.”
“A set,” Collie repeats. His pupils are blown. “You’ve got more on?”
Gary doesn’t answer, only shuffles back off Collie’s lap and lays down, reaching to start unbuttoning his jeans. Collie lets out a small, breathy sound before shoving Gary’s hands away to replace them with his own, making quick work of the rest of the buttons and the zipper. Gary lifts his hips so he can get them off the rest of the way, letting them fall off the side of the bed to the floor. He glances up to see Collie’s eyes locked onto his panties, lips slightly parted.
“You’re trying to fucking kill me,” Collie says.
“Happy fucking birthday,” Gary grumbles. Somehow, Collie looking at him like he wants to devour him still doesn't make the humiliation go away fully. “You tell anyone about this and I’ll steal your car and crash it.”
Collie moves so fast that Gary doesn’t fully register it until he feels teeth against his hipbone, right above the lace. He yelps as Collie bites down, hips twitching upward. Collie replaces his teeth with his lips, sucking at the mark he’s just left, probably to ensure it bruises.
Gary whimpers, tugging at Collie’s hair. “That hurts, asshole!”
“I know,” Collie says, barely lifting his head as he glances up. “Can’t help myself.” Then he’s pushing Gary’s legs apart, adjusting so he can attack his inner thighs with his mouth instead. “You’re so fucking pretty. You got all dressed up just for me, huh?”
“It’s not—ah!—not that fucking big a deal,” Gary snaps, struggling to speak properly as Collie bites and sucks at the sensitive flesh of his thighs. A warm hand comes up to caress the side of his leg, fingers sliding underneath the lace to trace along his pelvis, so close to his cock that he aches.
He writhes around a bit against the sheets, feeling too much and not enough at the same time, but he’s stopped by Collie’s fingers digging firmly into his leg. The message is clear; stay put. But he can’t, he never can when Collie’s tongue is on his skin.
Gary moans loudly when Collie presses a kiss to the tip of his cock over the panties, hips bucking up. He watches breathlessly as Collie mouths over his length straining against the lace, whines and gasps escaping him. “Fuck,” he whimpers, “Collie, more.”
Collie, being the absolute bastard he is, does the exact opposite and lifts his head, grinning at Gary. “Begging for it already?”
“Like you’re any better,” Gary hisses. “And get your clothes off too. This ain’t fair.”
Collie keeps grinning as he leans back and yanks his shirt off in one smooth movement. He has to swing his legs over the side of the bed to get out of his jeans, swearing as he fumbles with the zipper in his haste. Gary would laugh at how desperate he already looks if he weren’t feeling the exact same way.
Finally, Collie manages to get everything off, and he climbs back up to hover over Gary. He’s already fully hard, and Gary swallows thickly at the sight of his cock, thick and leaking precome. He wants it inside him so, so badly.
“Want to make you cry,” Collie murmurs. “You want that, too?”
Gary nods, all his will to snap and bite and make Collie work for it gone in the face of how pathetically horny he is. “Should I leave these on?” he asks breathlessly.
Collie laughs, sounding a little strangled. “I think I’d cry if you didn’t.” His hands return to Gary’s hips, running his fingers across the lace almost worshipfully. “God damn, baby.”
Gary knows his face must be bright red. He twists at the waist so he can reach the bedside table, yanking the drawer open and pulling out the lube he keeps there. When he turns back, Collie snatches it out of his hands almost immediately. “Hey!” he snaps indignantly.
“Come here,” Collie says, ignoring Gary’s pouting and pulling him onto his lap. “Wanna be able to feel all of you while I do this.” He uncaps the lube, pouring a generous amount onto the fingers of his right hand.
“You can’t just—mmph!—say that shit,” Gary hisses as Collie slides a slick finger under the lace, circling his hole. He tries to relax, burying his face in Collie’s shoulder. It shouldn’t be hard, not after how many times they’ve done this, but even so. Somehow, it feels new like this. Too vulnerable.
“Breathe, sweetheart,” Collie soothes. Gary whimpers as he feels the first finger slowly work its way inside him. Collie’s free hand rubs reassuringly against his back. Every sensation seems amplified—the rasp of the fabric against his skin, the heat of the body pressed to his own, the sound of Collie’s quickening breath in his ear.
He moans as Collie finds his sweet spot; by now, Collie knows Gary’s body so well that it takes him no time at all to figure out exactly the places to touch to drive him crazy. Gary grinds down against his finger, earning a small chuckle from Collie.
“Slut,” Collie says, managing to sound affectionate and condescending at the same time. “You want it bad, don’t you?”
Gary shudders, gripping onto Collie’s broad shoulders like a lifeline as another finger eases inside him. He can’t even snap back against the derisive comment, because it’s true, it’s true, he’s here on Collie’s lap, dressed up like the slut he is, already panting and whining like a dog just from being worked open.
Suddenly there are fingers tangled in his hair, and he yelps as his head is pulled up harshly, so that he’s forced to meet Collie’s dark, heated eyes.
“I asked you something,” Collie says. “You want it that badly?”
Fuck. “Yeah,” Gary gasps, hips jerking as the fingers inside him curl just right, “yeah, I want it, fuck, I want you in me so bad.”
Collie groans, letting go of his hair and leaning in to kiss him hard. “Okay, baby,” he says, hot and heavy against Gary’s lips. “I’ll give you what you need.”
Despite his promise, Collie keeps working him open, and while it’s probably quicker than their usual prep, right now it feels torturously slow. His fingers feel amazing inside, Gary greedily rocking down against them, but it’s not enough.
“Fuck me already,” he whines, nipping at Collie’s shoulder. He’s rewarded with a sharp smack against his ass, and he yelps.
“Be good,” Collie scolds, and Gary’s cock twitches. “You want me inside you?” He crooks his fingers just right, and Gary’s eyes roll back.
“Yes,” he moans.
“Then behave,” Collie says. “Are you going to be good for me now?”
Gary squeezes his eyes shut and nods pathetically.
“Good boy,” Collie murmurs, and begins to slowly slide his fingers out. “Pretty boy.” He adjusts Gary in his lap, and when he starts easing Gary down onto his cock, Gary is a little worried he might cum just from this. But he holds out, trying to breathe deeply, until he’s fully seated in Collie’s lap.
Collie had said he’d make Gary cry, and that promise is fulfilled almost immediately as he steadies his grip on Gary’s hips and begins to move him up and down. Tears well up in Gary’s eyes and he presses his lips to Collie’s neck, attempting to hide his face.
“Hey,” Collie says, moving a hand up to tangle in his hair again. “Don’t hide.”
Gary whimpers as the teardrops spill over his lashes and trail down his face. Collie kisses them away, which only makes Gary cry harder. He tries to focus on the feeling of Collie thrusting inside him. Gary clenches down around his cock, drawing out moans from both of them. He tries to match Collie’s pace, rocking his hips, trying to get Collie’s cock even deeper inside him.
He throws his head back when Collie brushes against his prostate, and Collie smiles, knowing what he’s found. He slides a hand up to Gary’s waist to keep him in place, and keeps fucking him at the perfect angle to drive Gary insane.
“Gonna keep you in this forever,” Collie says breathily. He emphasizes his words with a sharp bite to Gary’s shoulder. “Make you wear it under your clothes all the time. And nobody’ll know but me. That you’re wearing it just for me.”
Gary’s whole body shivers at that, and he moves his hips up and down faster. His veins feel like they’re on fire, heat filling every inch of him. The thought of wearing this anywhere but the safety of his room is terrifying, but the way Collie says it, voice thick with desire…yes, Gary can imagine doing it. Only for Collie.
“Harder,” he gasps, nails surely leaving crescent-moon indents in the skin of Collie’s back. He wants to feel it all.
Collie seems more than eager to do so, jerking his hips up, pace growing rougher and faster. Gary wails as Collie’s thick cock hits his sweet spot perfectly, over and over. “Oh, fuck,” he moans, “fuck, Collie, Collie!”
“Fucking love how you say my name,” Collie growls into his ear. “Sweet thing. Only for me.”
“Yes.” Gary can barely form words anymore. “I’ll be—I can—oh, fuck!”
He writhes in Collie’s lap, no longer able to keep up, fully at Collie’s mercy as he’s bounced up and down like a toy. He’s panting and whining and crying for more, for Collie to let him cum, and to fill him up. He wants Collie to call him a slut again, a whore. Or maybe he wants to be called sweet, pretty, a good dog. He doesn’t know. He can’t fucking think clearly.
Collie slides one of his hands under the waistband of the panties, cupping Gary’s ass and squeezing, combining the action with a particularly hard thrust. Gary has to sink his teeth into Collie’s neck to keep from screaming and waking up the whole building.
“Gorgeous,” Collie moans, and then, “all mine.”
And that's all it takes.
Gary cums with a wail, legs trembling as his cock pulses, and he swears his vision whites out for a moment. When he comes down from the high, Collie still isn’t finished. Gary holds on for dear life as Collie continues thrusting up into him, chasing his own release.
“Close,” Collie groans. “Just—hold on for me, sweetheart.” Gary sobs and whimpers as the pleasure veers towards pain as Collie keeps fucking his sensitive hole. Collie’s words echo in his mind; mine, mine, mine. He’s right. Gary is his, entirely and devotedly.
Collie’s breath hitches and the muscles of his back tense, and Gary feels the pulsing of his cock and the gush of warmth within him as Collie finally comes undone.
By the time it’s over, Gary’s practically gone limp, hissing a bit when Collie pulls out. He lets himself be maneuvered back down to the bed. They’re both still out of breath, shaky from the exertion and thrill.
When he feels like he can actually move his legs again, Gary shifts to lay on his side and grimaces at the sensation between his thighs. His panties are covered in cum and spit and are honestly starting to feel a little gross now, so he peels them off and throws them off the bed with a shudder. The corset follows a moment later.
“Where the fuck am I gonna wash those?” he complains aloud. There’s no way he’s risking taking them down to the dorm laundry room.
“I can take ‘em down for you,” Collie offers. “Could keep them in my dorm too if you’re that worried about anyone seeing them.”
Gary snorts. “You just want to do something nasty with them.”
Collie shrugs and grins. “What, I can’t use my birthday present how I like?”
Gary smacks his shoulder halfheartedly. “You’re a dick.”
Collie chuckles and pulls Gary closer, kissing the top of his head. “I really do like it, you know,” he murmurs.
“Trust me, I can tell,” Gary replies. “I’ll be able to tell for the next three goddamn days, probably.”
“Did my job properly, then,” Collie says. “You want me to clean you up?”
“Later,” Gary says. He yawns and snuggles in closer to Collie’s chest. “You just knocked my soul across the fucking room. Give me, like, an hour to find it.”
Collie snorts. “You’ll feel disgusting in an hour. You get ten minutes.”
“Thirty.”
“Fifteen.”
Gary scrunches his nose. “Fine.” He wraps his arms around Collie and closes his eyes; maybe if he falls asleep in time, Collie will give in and not bother waking him up.
A warm hand begins to card through his hair. He winces when fingers catch on a tangle, and Collie huffs. “You need to start using some fucking conditioner.”
“Can’t,” Gary mumbles. “I’m broke now. You’re welcome.”
“Mm.” Gary can practically hear Collie’s smug grin. “Well, if you ever see something else pretty that you want to get too, I guess I could spare some change for you.”
“Fuckin’ perv,” Gary says, but he can’t help the pleased, flustered smile that crosses his face.