"Hey!" Gray said with a grin and danced over to the stereo to shut it off. "Bet you thought I'd gotten lost in the books again. Wrong! I even showered and ate, so let's go!" Without even letting Paul in, Gray grabbed his coat and rushed them both back into the hall. He did, however, manage to both kiss and grope Paul in the process, completely unmindful of anyone passing by.
It was a good thing that there wasn't anyone, really. Sometimes Gray took things a step too far at weird moments, occasionally resulting in either ice cream in strange places or hurried retreats from groups of people.
Paul followed Gray out of the building with a bemused smile on his face. "You really shouldn't listen to that crap so loud, people might think you're a geek."
Gray gave him a look of utter bafflement. "Why?" he asked, then winked slowly. "Don't answer, or I won't let you suck me off later. Want to take the bus or walk?"
"Bus. I'm lazy." Paul looked sidelong at Gray. "And I gotta save my breath if you want me to blow you. Bus!" He caught it in his peripheral vision behind Gray as he was talking and took off running to the stop at the corner.
The bus, thankfully, was only about half full, so Paul didn't have to worry about fending off too many of Gray's increasingly outrageous passes. When he rolled his eyes and once more removed Gray's hands from where they'd wandered, he got a look of pure innocence that was entirely too easy to believe.
At the bar, conversely, Gray settled down. Maybe it was the drink in his hand or the sound of the band warming up that soothed him; Paul wasn't sure. And Gray certainly didn't ignore him, one hand constantly either on his lower back or on his thigh, but the twitchiness eased off, and Gray mellowed out, smiling a little more easily.
"Needed this," he said to Paul, looking around the place and leading him to a tiny table on the side. "Get out of that place, away from the books for a while."
Paul nodded. He knew just what Gray meant. "Yeah," he said, and then congratulated himself on such an intelligent and empathetic response. He shook his head. "Finals suck this year, don't they? I don't know why they're so much worse this year than last. Like the band, though. One of your better picks."
"The guy on the sax has an amazing mouth," Gray said with a wink, and then quickly moved on. "Almost done, though. Then summer and fun and... well, life. Right now I just want to have this fine drink, listen to the fine band, and plan the absolute fastest way to get you naked again."
Paul laughed. "All you have to do is ask, you know. You don't have to get me drunk. Although it's a nice perk." He tangled his fingers with Gray's. It wasn't the best town to be out in, but it wasn't the worst either. "I could blow you in the bathroom." Bathroom! "Oh, shit, I left your jeans at home." On the bathroom floor, next to the toilet after jerking off. Damn.
"S'okay," Gray said, stroking his thumb with one finger. "I know where you live, I'll get 'em at some point. And I'm going to take you up on that, you know. Taunting me with sex in the bathroom. Very naughty, Paul." Gray's grin said all Paul needed to know about Gray's opinion on the subject.
"You say 'naughty' like it's a bad thing." He sipped his drink. "Besides you have a lot of nerve calling me naughty after your comments about the sax player. This is one of those 'I really shouldn't ask' things, isn't it?" Which was fine, they weren't exclusive by any means. Although Paul really couldn't recall the last time he... oh, yes, over last summer while Gray was away. Right.
"You can ask if you want to know," Gray said with a smile that spoke volumes. "I mean, it's not like I went back for more, but I did find a pretty good band out of it." The hand that had been resting just above Paul's knee slipped a little higher as Gray took another swallow of his drink.
"Sounds like I don't even need to ask." Paul finished his drink and set it down on the bar. This wasn't really a dancing kind of band, but there were a few people out there. He looked at Gray, who was obviously enjoying the music. He was tapping his foot as he chased ice cubes around his glass. Paul decided it was time to really loosen up. "Two shots!" He waved his hand at the waiter. "Two shots of...?" He looked at Gray.
"Dewar's," Gray said, rolling his eyes. "Nasty stuff, but I like what it does to you."
"Dewar's!" Paul repeated, and the waiter scurried off. "Dewar's doesn't do anything to me," he protested weakly, but he knew better. He liked the slightly fuzzy edge that it gave to the world. Of course, it took more than one shot to get there, but in combination with his other drink, it could work.
The shots arrived, and Paul handed one to Gray before picking up his own. "To us." Paul regretted the words the moment they came out of his mouth. He tried not to let his misgivings show in his face. But Gray just kind of twinkled at him, looking both pleased and horny, in that "I'm so getting laid again" way.
"To us," he agreed, lifting his glass in a salute. As usual, Gray slammed about half of the drink back and shuddered. "Man, how come the second one tastes better? Must make my tongue numb or something."
Paul swallowed his in one gulp. "Or something," Paul agreed. "I think the first one makes you not care how the second one tastes." He grinned and had a hard time fighting off a strange urge to crawl into Gray's lap. "Dance?" Paul asked, "or we could just hit the men's room..."
He wasn't terribly surprised when Gray downed the remainder of his drink and grabbed his hand. "Have I told you lately that I really like the way you think?" Gray asked, dragging him into the restroom. Without waiting for a reply, Gray glanced around, picked a stall, and practically threw Paul into it. "Dewar's. Every time."
"Am I really that cheap?" Paul locked the stall door and looked around. This wasn't a nightclub, it was a bar, and so while the bathroom was much cleaner, their time was limited. He wasted none, going right to his knees, hastily opening Gray's fly, and pushing his pants down around his thighs. "Whatever you do, don't yell," Paul reminded Gray, for all the good it was going to do.
"I'll try not to," Gray said, his fingers sliding through Paul's hair as he urged him forward. Gray’s cock was firming up fast, swaying as Gray braced his feet and leaned back on the metal wall. "C'mon. Want it, Paul," he whispered in a rough voice. "Want you."
"I know, baby," Paul said softly. He knew, and Gray would get everything he needed. He opened his mouth and leaned forward taking the head of Gray's dick into his mouth. He made one long sweep, taking Gray deep and then pulling back again, not quite letting the head go. He did it again, only this time he took hold of Gray's ass, encouraging him forward, encouraging him to move.
"God, you're good at this," Gray whispered roughly, his breathing already speeding up. His hips were rocking, too, pushing and retreating as Gray's cock slid into his mouth and back out. Long fingers tangled and tugged at Paul's hair, not hard enough to hurt but firmly enough that he knew Gray was setting his pace. "Love your mouth."
Paul responded with a gentle application of teeth. He shielded them quickly though, as it was only meant as a tease. He fell into Gray's rhythm easily, liking that he knew Gray's needs so well. He moaned when he could to give Gray some encouragement, but mostly he listened to Gray's sounds and enjoyed the feel of his body moving, taking every thrust as deep as he could manage.
When Gray picked up the pace a bit and the sounds from the bar rose, Paul sucked a little harder, making Gray gasp. "Yeah, like that," he said, pushing harder. "Jesus, Paul. Look so fucking hot, on your knees. Look at me."
Paul looked up and met Gray's eyes, saw the flush creeping up his neck. The cock in his mouth swelled harder, and Gray gasped again, his fingers curling and tugging harder.
"Soon," Gray managed, his eyes closing. "Goddamnit, Paul, so fucking hot."
If Paul had really known how much Gray got off on sex in semi-public places he would have encouraged it much more often. Gray's mouth was open, his eyes were squeezed closed, and he'd abandoned all sense of propriety, groaning hotly along with the wet slick sounds of his cock slipping through Paul's lips.
Paul continued to watch Gray until Gray's thrusts grew so urgent that he couldn't co
ncentrate on his face anymore. As Gray started to come, Paul lowered his chin a bit and welcomed the stream of hot stuff into his mouth. Under his hands he could feel Gray shaking, his legs trembling, and he was grateful that Gray let go of his hair long enough to slam his hand back on the wall behind him.
"Jesus," Gray panted. The hand came back and stroked Paul's cheek gently. "Amazing, baby. C'mere." Hands pulled Paul up, then one plunged into his pants as Gray kissed him, tongue sweeping through his mouth. "Your turn."
"Oh, shit!" Paul gasped so loudly he was sure they could hear him out at the bar. He'd been so into Gray that he hadn't realized how hard he was himself. Gray's hand was so tight around his erection that it felt as if Gray's fingers were burning welts into his cock. He took Gray by the shoulders and pushed his back against the wall again, hard enough to rattle the row of stalls, and pressed his forehead into the side of Gray's neck. A few incredibly satisfying thrusts later he felt his thighs start to tingle. "Fuck, Gray," he said in a gravelly voice and tightened his hold on Gray's shoulders.
"That's it," Gray growled into his ear. "Come on, Paul. Give it up for me, you know you want to. Come on."
Gray's breath smelled of whiskey and was hot in his ear, and it seemed like that was all it took for Paul to let go, spilling fistfuls of spunk over Gray's hand and into his pants. He'd regret that soon, probably, but just at this moment he didn't give a damn. "Oh, God," he said softly and released Gray's shoulders, though he kept a hand on the wall to keep his balance. Paul felt Gray loosen his grip, and he turned his head to brush his lips across Gray's, asking for another kiss.
"Love watching you come," Gray whispered into his mouth. Then Gray kissed him, hard and deep, and it took a few more moments before Paul could start to catch his breath.
Sticky and wet, his pants were a mess. Gray licked at his mouth again before pulling back, grimacing at his hand as he reached for the toilet paper. "Oops," he said mildly, starting to grin. "Might be an early night. You need to change."
"I should probably be embarrassed, shouldn't I?" he asked Gray and felt himself grin more broadly than he'd intended. But he wasn't; he just opened his fly and cleaned up as best he could. Of course the growing wet stain might be a bit difficult to conceal. He started to laugh. "I'm walking home right behind you," he joked.
"Of course you are," Gray said with a wink. "You like to watch my ass." Hands wiped off, Gray looked at him critically. "Seriously, though. Want to stay for a bit, or head home? I don't want you feeling gross all night."
There was no discussion on the subject. No way was Paul going to sit around with a wet crotch and reeking of sex; in Gray's bed that was one thing, but in a bar? Forget it. Paul also made Gray walk home so they wouldn't stink up a cab, and he held his jacket in front of him all the way, feeling a lot like a teenager who had inexplicably shot off during math class.
"I'm not embarrassed. Really. That whole thing was way too hot. You were amazing. You were so gone, I just wanted to watch you." Paul insisted as he stepped out of Gray's shower. He grabbed the towel that Gray was holding for him.
Gray blushed at him, which was just one of many weird contradictions about him that Paul liked. The guy would happily have sex in a public bathroom, but he blushed in his own bathroom talking about it.
"You were pretty hot yourself," Gray said, watching him towel off. "Just like always. C'mon, I changed the sheets earlier," he added, wiggling his eyebrows.
"Ooh. Clean sheets." Gray was such a homebody. Paul couldn't remember the last time he'd washed his, but, then, Gray hadn't been in them recently so the need wasn't as great. He hung the towel over the shower door and headed for Gray's bedroom, running his fingers through his damp hair to get it out of his eyes. "Would you believe I'm still kinda woozy from the Dewar's?"
"Sure," Gray said easily, his hands cool on Paul's back as he tumbled them both onto the bed. "Drinking and coming usually makes you woozy. Although I like to flatter myself and think it's all about the orgasms and not so much the booze." He grinned brightly and kissed Paul's nose. "Sleep? I promise I'll wake you up real nice."
Paul smiled back. "And to think, some people hate their alarm clock." He rolled onto his side, sighing softly as Gray spooned around behind him. "It's all about the orgasms," he said through a yawn. "Well, about the orgasms and about you." The alcohol just made him braver.
"Aw, I make you woozy," Gray laughed into his neck. "Maybe you're allergic to me. I hope not -- I'd hate to be given away like a puppy."
Well, "woozy" was one way to put it.
Gray was warm at his back, and the room was dark except for the white streetlights sneaking in through the blinds. Paul tangled his fingers with the hand Gray had curled around his waist. "Not allergic. But you better not pee on the carpet," Paul said, realizing that he was mumbling and letting his eyes close. He drifted off to the sound of Gray huffing softly in his ear.
Study Break Page 2
