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It was a Friday and they were alone in Fred’s dorm room, his old roommate had quit college and decided to pursue an entrepreneurial way of life instead, therefore leaving the space Fred’s only.
Wes had caught Fred right after his classes ended, bringing him a coffee and a damn donut because Fred supposedly has to keep his sugars up before baseball practice. Wes knows Fred just has the sweet tooth of a six year old kid, no doubt about it, but sometimes Wes will indulge him, if not for the fact Fred will always give him the dopiest smile and a smack on the back, murmuring about how Wes is the best all the way down the hall while enjoying his snacks, talking with a mouth half full.
Fred was currently invested in updating Wes on all of his frat’s doings while promptly packing up because practice was supposed to start in an hour. Wes couldn’t care less if Fred talked about the holy bible or the correct way to make pancakes, he was content to be in Fred’s presence. The cadence of Fred’s voice and the way he shaped words calmed Wes’s adhd riddled brain. He could blow out a sigh of relief because it was easy cruising with the two of them batched together, effortless in its well worn dynamic.
Wes couldn’t let go today though because Fred had found yet another guy to adopt as a new role model, someone older to put on a pedestal, because that is exactly what Fred has always done with whichever asshole he deemed as superior and wiser.
“Aw, man, he’s just come down from Georgia a week ago. He’s a pitcher and a lefty at that. Great stats.” Fred went on and on, retelling a play he’s supposedly heard about which this spectacular specimen had a major part in.
Why wouldn’t Fred make this Mark douche his new best friend if he was so great? Wes mocked in his head.
“He’s just got that arm on him, whew, you know. Guy can throw real darts at 90.” Fred shook his head almost as if in disbelief. “Slider and curve is insane, espn highlight reel worthy.”
“He’s gonna be my roommate for a semester before his parents send him some money to move into the frat house which is dope.” Fred was unassuming, nonjudgmental, but Wes was judgmental and critical as fuck, this guy was already getting on his nerves.
“I wanna ask him about ball back home, figure some stuff out. Pitchers are tight assed, you have to work them to get them to talk so it’s an advantage we’ll be close.” Wes stared at Fred, the way he was talking animatedly, his hands flying all over the place as he dug through the boxes under his bed, they were full of his clothes and cds and other shit. He’d been looking for a spare set of leg guards because one of the two he wore regularly shattered at the knee when he blocked last game.
“So you’ve caught for him before? He’s one of yours?” Wes questioned, his chest was tight and he felt like he wasn’t breathing right, clipped inhales and exhales, like a bull ready to charge.
Wes knew how good of a catcher Fred was. Everyone on the team adored him and looked up to him. He was a natural born leader even if he didn’t know it himself, people followed him, listened to him, their eyes tracked him. He was just that guy. It was like he was born for the game, he was quick witted and had an ability to see the play before it happened. Pitchers fought over him. He rarely caught bullpen because the coaches wanted him behind home plate as often as possible.
Wes wondered if this wonderfuck had already gotten a taste of Fred’s butter smooth catching, gotten those sweet encouraging words falling from his lips, generous and caring, offering praise where it was due so his pitchers would loosen up and know what’s right and what’s not.
“No, Mikes is catching him for now.” Fred answered, squatting down to root through a big plastic box full of resistance bands, worn out training balls and old batting gloves.
“So how would you know if he’s any good? You’ve only seen him pitch. Maybe Mikes is making up for where he’s lacking.” Wes prodded even if he knew only the basics about baseball, his knowledge being a collection of all Fred had taught him over the years with great patience and genuine love for the game.
“Well, I’ve played for long enough to know he’s pretty good, Wes. You know, you don’t even know him, man.” Fred shrugged, not taking offense with Wes questioning him.
“Whatever, man.” Wes huffed.
‘And neither do you.’ Wes wanted to hiss back, instead his fucking mouth decided to be even more traitorous.
“You into him or something?” Wes asked, a grimace twisting his lips with how grimy the words felt on his tongue. Shit, ugh, Wes was acting ridiculous, one more slip up and Fred would catch onto something being up.
“What?” Fred turned to him distractedly, glimpsing over his shoulder. There was a bewildered smile on his face, tinted with uncertainty too.
“Nothing.” Wes grunted under his breath, barely audible.
Fred shook his head along with a furrow of his brows, the bill of his cap faced Wes as he turned back and Wes wanted to pull on it and make Fred stumble down on the ground because he was avoiding answering like always when he wasn’t sure how to navigate something.
“Anyways, he was in another frat with a couple other guys but they’re still cool with him even if he’s in mine now. We’re throwing a party on Saturday, aka tomorrow, and everyone’s invited. The sorority chicks are gonna be crazy for it with another bunch of frat guys coming in. It’s gonna be so phat.”
“Mh, sure.” Wes hummed, staring at how Fred’s shirt pulled against his back because he filled it up at the shoulders. He’d been getting buffer with summer slowly coming into a full roll. He’d worked hard in the winter time during conditioning and it looked like it was paying off. Fred was always so self conscious about his body, not only because catchers were stereotyped as fat and lazy but also because he’d gained a lot of weight after high school and never lost the pudginess completely.
Fred might not have been the tallest or fittest but he had it in him. He was a fighter. He didn’t give up easily and sometimes that was more than muscle mass out there on the field. Wes found it extremely attractive. Every drop of sweat that rolled off of Fred’s body while he was playing a tough game, holding in there, strong and unshakable, was hard earned and made him shine just that much brighter in his catcher’s gear. Wes couldn’t stop watching him in those moments, the ball and the players, the whole game fading away into the background with how Fred made Wes’s heart race.
Fred was a regular guy with his faults and flaws but out there he was a miracle. Still, here in Fred’s dorm room cluttered with trophies, metals and memorabilia, Wes only wanted to admire Fred, his stupid oversized pants and a shirt bought way too big so it wouldn’t cling to his upper body and accentuate his insecurities, the cross necklace Fred wore without an exception because he was superstitious enough to deem it lucky but also religious enough to believe god would look out for him.
He was simply human and Wes’s best friend of almost nine years. Wes cared for him with a fierce sense of loyalty and although it recently seemed like Fred barely kept up his side of the friendship, he had been there all throughout Wes’s gruesome mental battles, most importantly the time when Wes had completely lost himself and then found himself with his help.
Wes was a reckless and bitter teenager, dealing with anger issues and the constant craving of having to cause trouble and taunt someone because he was unhappy with himself and the injustice of the way things worked in the world. Fred calmed him down, although he grew to love mischief as much as Wes overtime, there was something so peaceful about Fred’s soul to Wes which made him gain Wes’s trust. Fred made Wes believe in the possibility of having a stable connection with someone no matter how scary, ugly and unstable his existence momentarily got when he’d get into one of his fits.
Fred had helped him pick up the pieces of his self with selfless generosity in the most vital transformative stage of their teenage years, expecting absolutely nothing as repayment. For someone so dense sometimes Fred was extremely smart when it came to caring for others, his love was a palpable warmth felt through his actions.
He was a kind person, tactfully honest and generous but sometimes he got lost, his naivety led him to places Wes would rather rip him out from. It wasn’t Wes’s place to prevent Fred from living his life though. Fred had made his choices and they made him happy for now.
Wes just thought that being in a frat was the stupidest fucking thing. You were tied to a tight circle of knuckleheads who had no sense of ethics, privacy or basic hygiene and only talked about sports, cars, drinking or fucking girls.
Wes was tired of Fred being snatched away from him just for him to come back disappointed and used, the goodness of his heart exploited daily by shallow gaping souls.
“Are you gonna come?” Fred asked him, excited and radiant.
“You want me to?” Sometimes what Fred’s frat brothers dished out didn’t correspond with Wes’s appetite for fun, he wasn’t big on committing arson or getting black out drunk on a Wednesday with a bunch of assholes around.
“Yeah, of course, you’ll like it. It’s open for anyone to come like I said. Some of your art freak friends might wander over if they’re not too hurt over the booze last time. They’ll get plenty at our house.” Fred chuckled, his smile was genuine, his two front teeth crooked just so and Wes couldn’t stand the thought of some pussy from Georgia getting to spend time with him and potentially hurting him.
“Okay then, I’ll come. I’ll drive us.” Wes replied simply and Fred beamed.
“Sweet. Come in clutch as always, Borland.” Fred nodded and turned back to the gear bag opened on his bed, distracted by packing up and not forgetting anything for practice.
Wes stepped up behind him. Fred’s guard was down and he didn’t even resist when Wes took his arms, manhandled him so Fred’s wrists were clasped behind his back in Wes’s grip.
Wes used his height as an advantage against Fred’s burliness, it wasn’t hard to get him in this position even though Wes had never tried to pull off something so daring before, Fred was just a pushover when it came to Wes.
“What-? What the hell, man?” Fred squirmed and let out a faint confused laugh, testing Wes’s hold on him, although he didn’t try to get free at all. He moved restlessly but not in a panicked manner. “I swear if this is one of those movie fighting moves you’re trying out again. I’m not a punching dummy.”
Wes couldn’t form a verbal reply for once, his mind was too clouded with those thoughts of Fred, yeah, the possessive ones that he’d always try to push back even though they kept coming back twice as worse, nagging and dark.
He pushed his hips out and pulled Fred’s arms back so their mid sections were aligned, Fred half collapsed against the bed with Wes holding him up.
“Holy shit, Wes.” Fred let out a whiny gasp, his neck straining as he pushed his hips back into Wes’s crotch instinctively.
“What are you doing?” Fred questioned breathlessly.
“You make me mad, drive me fucking crazy.” Wes growled out in spite of his better judgement.
Fred swallowed, throat working. “That’s why you love me, I keep things interesting.”
He was so mouthy now that he’d gotten an ego boost from his frat brothers. Wes didn’t mind it. He liked when Fred pushed back and was a smartass, knew his worth. He wasn’t intimidated by Wes like most people, whether by his appearance or his complicated personality. Fred knew exactly how to play him and play with him.
“Mh, no, I hate you.” Wes purred lazily, his lips brushing against the shell of Fred’s ear as he leaned in close.
Wes loved when he could have Fred all to himself, his undivided attention, those light blue eyes on him, Fred hanging onto each and every one of his words, waiting in anticipation and awe.
“You don’t. Wes-“ Fred protested. He’d always get so irked when Wes joked about hating him, even if it was clear as day the opposite was true. Wes simply loved to give Fred a bit of a hard time.
“Shit, ah.” Fred trembled, his pale cheeks flushed so easily when you knew exactly which buttons to press.
“You think Mark’s gonna be back soon? What do you think he’s gonna think with you under me like this, hm?” Wes mouthed the words against Fred’s neck on purpose.
Fred smelled delicious, like the day’s worth of his clean sweat and the remnants of his cologne, Wes’s favorite scent to come back to after a shit day of school.
Fred bit on his lips to stop the startled muffled noises he’d made. He pulled against Wes’s hold again, curling his fingers into fists, wrists flexing which caused Wes to squeeze down harder against them.
“You want…?” Fred panted out.
“Mhm? What was that?” Wes hummed.
“Want what exactly, Fred?”
“Mhnn.” Fred exhaled shakily, closing his eyes tight, gathering the courage before turning to look at Wes over his shoulder, gaze pleading.
Fuck. Without needing to touch him, Wes knew Fred was hard and ready to cream his pants already. He was so fucking easy, Wes didn’t blame him though. Fred’s warm body in his hands had Wes so aroused. To Wes he was the best kind of high.
Wes titled forward, their mouths inches apart, the promise of a kiss hanging in the tense air between them.
The door rattled with keys being shoved in the keyhole and then swung open a moment later.
Wes had let go instantly.
“Yooo, man, you comin’ out?” A voice called out. “Oh.”
“What’s up?” Wes cocked an unimpressed eyebrow as he crossed his arms over his chest, giving the guy in the doorway a skeptical once over.
“Who’re you?” The dude drawled out like he gave less of a shit.
“Wes, Fred’s best friend. Don’t know me yet?” Wes jabbed back. He hated being interrupted.
“No, dude.” The guy let out a careless fake laugh.
“I don’t know you either, dude.” Wes shrugged.
“I’m Mark Kennedy. I’m Freddy’s new roommate.” Mark grinned lazily.
So this was him.
A built but leaner guy, a couple of black strands of hair poking out from underneath his baseball cap. He was tan and tall. Definitely conventionally attractive. A cocky baseball player in all his glory. He had arrogance written all over his face, his hands shoved in his pockets like he was the shit while Wes was a lowlife because he wasn’t an athlete or made of money.
“You gonna hand him over or is he on house arrest?” Mark asked.
“I see you got the little husband and wife situation going on. This your wife?” Mark called out before Wes could reply to his previous question, joking but obviously only with Fred and right over Wes’s shoulder.
Fred was busy swiftly throwing shit in his bag. He was extremely embarrassed, Wes knew the tells. Even if Mark couldn’t have seen what they had been doing because Wes had let go quickly enough Fred was still gnawing on his lip, avoiding eye contact, trying to ground himself. He gave a grunt of preoccupied acknowledgment.
“You’re no fun, man. You ever smile or are you one of those emos?” Mark poked at his shoulder, finger digging in.
“I’m not.” Wes replied dryly and Mark laughed. Wes wanted to flip him off and make the nastiest barfing face. That was one of Mark’s tamer options of a reaction from Wes.
“Ay, one tough guy.” The pinched corner of Mark’s lips betrayed his annoyance. Wes was probably the only one who didn’t suck up to him.
“Hey, Marky Mark, I’m comin’.” Fred piped up, diffusing the situation, knowing Wes was getting stormy.
“Just had to get some gear packed up.” He explained as he slung the bag over his shoulder.
“Bye, Wes, I’ll text you.” Fred said as he brushed by his side, subtly letting him know they were cool.
Then Wes had to watch as Mark’s proprietary hand squeezed the nape of Fred’s neck as they left the room, Fred’s shoulders curving inwards.
Uh huh.
…
Wes had tried so hard to imagine being apart from Fred.
The thought of being without him was all that crawled through Wes’s mind as he toured the college he’d dreamed of getting into ever since he realized he loved painting and creating with all his soul.
It didn’t ignite his passion or kick start any wild aspirations like he’d hoped it would. He was hesitant which he usually didn’t let himself become.
It wasn’t because he was codependent on Fred either. They had grown out of it as soon as everything loosened and they weren’t threatened by bullies around every corner.
Wes just simply did not want to let him go but of course Wes never told Fred that was the reason he picked the same college as him.
…
“I’ll just go say hi to the guys, B, alright? I’ll be right back.” Fred squeezed Wes’s shoulder.
Wes knew he’d disappear for least an hour or two and try out every possible attraction around this party. The amount of people he knew or who knew him was overwhelming and Wes preferred to fade into the background as Fred made his rounds catching up.
“Don’t do anything dumb.” Wes flicked the brim of Fred’s cap and Fred laughed before making his way through the crowd naturally.
Wes had faith in Fred. He knew Fred would return to him eventually, even if he was acting stupid at the moment.
…
In the meantime, Wes went to explore the alcohol selection in the kitchen even though he couldn’t get shitfaced, he was driving after all, but one symbolic drink to ease his nerves wouldn’t hurt.
Arranged in the middle of the kitchen island was a questionable radioactive looking pinkish red mix of something in a glass bowl with stray jagged cut up slices of lemon. It didn’t look too alluring. Wes wasn’t even surprised these apes didn’t how to use a knife and mix drinks correctly.
The fridge was stocked with beer though. Still packaged and probably uncontaminated, so Wes took one.
A knot of bodies which Wes recognized as people from his major inhabited one corner of the room. They were discussing the new assignment for their abstract art class with the professor who liked to pull instructions and grades out of his ass, hence the name abstract probably.
Wes didn’t engage in conversation much, even if he was given the opportunity from a few people but none of them were close friends and his words would soon fade away and be forgotten so Wes didn’t really try.
Wes’s friend group avoided frat houses, so he was left with the crumbing of the desperate art majors looking for a drop of liquor for free despite the haphazard circumstances of the circus show unfolding around them. It was boring.
College was confusing and most students complained all the time. It got annoying and it wore you down. That’s probably why half of Wes’s major smoked weed like they were part of the hippies. Nothing better to do.
…
There was a sudden clamor of people shoving their way into the living room as pony by ginuwine played on full blast on the speakers. Laughter, clapping, whistling and cheering overlapped each other and created an almost unbearable volume level in the crammed room.
Wes got a glimpse of the action for himself, inching up on his tiptoes in the doorway, wanting to know what was going on despite it probably being something absolutely moronic.
The reality was way worse than Wes expected and left him feeling like he’d been punched in the chest, all the breath knocked out of him.
Fred was slutting himself out, singing the lyrics of the song down to every single word, making obscenely sexual faces while he grinded against a girls knees, he clearly wanted to make his way between her legs. She was sitting on the couch and pretending to fight him off but it was clear she was flustered and definitely flattered. Fred’s belt hung undone and his underwear was way too low, his pants were about to fall down.
Wes didn’t know if this was one of Fred’s acts so he’d get attention or if he was really into it. The thing was Wes truly didn’t know and he hated not knowing. He hated not knowing about Fred especially. That was what had been so bitter on his tongue lately.
…
Wes went out for a smoke. He felt nauseous and agitated, he couldn’t think straight. He didn’t know what to believe anymore lately.
The moon was a pale bright oval veiled by thin dark clouds. It was colder than Wes expected, probably colder than it really should be this time of year around. He should’ve brought a hoodie.
He hoped he’d be alone out here but it was a far extended wish at a party like this. He rounded the corner to get away from the stragglers sitting on the back porch and instead hid out in the darkness by the house.
Even there he wasn’t alone though.
Tracy, the same scene girl he’d talked to a month and a half ago on the couch before Fred went into heat from all the weed in his system was smoking away just a step away from him.
“Hello, you.” She chuckled, a look of pleasant recognition on her face.
“Different love than Romeo and Juliet, am I right?” She stated as she blew smoke out the corner of her mouth. She’d probably exited the scene just like him when the air inside started to become too over saturated with sex hormones.
“You’d think they would resort to less primitive mating rituals.” Tracy commented with a curl to her lips.
She was just his type, gorgeous face half hidden by side swept bangs, big dark eyes framed by eyeliner and mascara, tattoos and piercings tying her look all together. She was clearly into the same things as him and was a reasonable girl but Wes couldn’t make himself care. He always got irrationally worried about Fred and suddenly nothing else mattered.
“Yeah, it’s like all they think or care about is fucking.” Wes grunted out, sliding a cigarette out the pack he always carried in his pocket just in case. He was pretty much an opportunistic smoker but lately it’s become a regular craving.
“Just put a pussy in front of them they’ll pretty much lose their mind. I thought athletes had a strong sense of discipline. It’s fuckin’ bullshit.” Wes knew he sounded harsh and brash. It wasn’t a good look on him.
Tracy looked wide eyed for a while but recovered quickly. Wes had maybe hoped she’d leave so he could be alone and calm down. It felt like his brain was slowly catching on fire and it was just a matter of time before he blew up.
Tracy snorted and shrugged, flicking ash off her cigarette. “That’s why I don’t come around here anymore.”
“I once dated this frat guy.” She rolled her eyes, smiling wryly. “I was naive, first year of college, fresh out of my hometown. Never again. Three months in I caught him sleeping with another girl. Joke is, I think he was the most romantic guy I ever knew, took me out for dates to these restaurants, bought me flowers and gifts. He’d always pamper me and was such a gentleman. It was like he swore his loyalty to me. It was real convincing too. He said he wasn’t like the other guys and he’d prove his love to me and I believed him. Now I know frat guys ain’t for shit.”
Wes clenched his teeth. He knew she wasn’t talking about Fred, she was only relaying off of his earlier statement but something about it rubbed Wes the wrong way tonight. He was seeing red.
He put out his cigarette by crushing it with the heel of his shoe on the ground, silent, other times he would’ve given her at least a curtesy laugh and maybe even a genuine one because this was a normal halfhearted casual conversation.
“Well, maybe you should stick to dating weirdos like you then.” Wes remarked.
“What? What do you mean?” She gave him a confused look. “Was that supposed to be a joke?”
“You heard me.” Wes replied flatly.
“Whatever, just go away, those frat guys have already rubbed off on me.” Wes enunciated meanly. “Clearly.”
“Oh, wow. You’re an asshole.” Tracy spat out and stomped her foot, her mouth in a sneer. “I thought you of all people would be least childish.”
Wes jammed the heel of his palm into his eye. He couldn’t even force himself to feel guilty.
“Then you don’t know me.” He groaned.
“I’m sorry, Tracy, I’m just not into it tonight.” He muttered because it was only right to apologize, even though he didn’t mean it as much as he should’ve.
“Ugh, fuck you. Why do I even try. I just knew you were going to be full of yourself.” Tracy shook her head and left swiftly, not sparing him a second look.
Wes drove everyone away in the end and he wasn’t sure he minded.
He found himself hoping Fred would miraculously want to go home at the very moment. He didn’t want to leave without Fred, he promised Fred he wouldn’t.
Wes stewed in his mood. He felt like there was no way out of this no matter how hard headed he was being about it. He tried every which way to get his urges when it came to Fred under control, he’d hit a wall each time. He didn’t know why he was so possessive of Fred. It just felt like they were intertwined, not just by friendship but in deeper ways too. They had grown up together and saw almost every version of each other up till now. Wes had so many fond memories with Fred. Like sleeping crammed in his bed when Fred was having nightmares and it was storming out once. Or when Wes broke his finger and couldn’t play guitar or paint properly for a month and a half and Fred made it his mission to distract him and cheer him up every single day. Or when he’d gotten Fred something he wanted so badly for his birthday but couldn’t afford and Fred almost cried. Fred was his best friend. Fred was his other half.
Wes should’ve gone to find Fred. He should’ve hooked up with the girl to pass the time and release all the unwanted tension in his body like a normal college kid. He should be mature enough not to be green with jealousy.
Could have, would have, should have.
Wes was sick of everything.
He missed the old times when it was just him and Fred against the world in their shit small town. When days were long and winding but predictable.
Wes’s phone buzzed twice with texts coming in and he pulled it out of his pocket. They were from Fred and Wes quickly read over them.
“can u comc me?”
“2nd floor 3r room to the rite”
Wes’s pulse picked up as he wrote back and was on his way in a matter of seconds.
…
Wes found Fred sitting on the ground with his back against the footboard of a bed. The room was dark save for the glow of a streetlight steaming in through a balcony door. The energy was gloomy if anything.
“Why are you in here?” Wes whispered for no apparent reason apart from the newly established privacy.
“I’m really drunk, Wes. I drank too much.” Fred complained, classic whining fashion.
He sounded suspiciously sober despite his claim, the slur to his words was not as bad as when Fred was truly wasted and turned into a walking dummy. But Wes wouldn’t turn him away because of some white lies. There was a certain desperation to Fred’s existence at that moment and Wes didn’t like it. There had to be more to the story.
“Why’d you do that?” Wes asked neutrally as he approached Fred and sat down next to him.
Fred usually had better control of himself. He might’ve been a frat brother but he’d never raged so hard he destroyed himself. He had a sense of self preservation and self control that some of these assholes seriously lacked, which in result made them get their heads stuck in walls with concussions or sick with alcohol poisoning, or better yet, caught on a dui or benched with a broken limb. Not too swell if you’re a d1 athlete and your scholarship is highly dependent on your physical performance and spruce behavior.
“Mh, Mark and a group of the other guys made me do keg stands…” Fred shook his head and swallowed heavily.
“It was- was too much.” He winced.
“Did you puke?” Wes asked.
“No, my head’s killing me though.” Fred rubbed at his eye.
“You’re making me take care of you again, huh?” Wes huffed and Fred stiffened, his eyes wide and filled with shining little flickers of light from the streetlights outside. Fred felt bad about it, Wes could tell, but Wes never minded taking care of Fred when he got himself in trouble.
Wes got up and found a cup in the bathroom. He rinsed it in the sink and brought some water in it to Fred. Fred murmured his thanks, taking sips.
“How many did you do? The keg stands.”
“Like three…” Fred mumbled.
Wes shifted closer and smoothed Fred’s hair out of his forehead where it was clumped, probably from the beer spilled on him.
“How’d you like that?” Wes murmured and raised an eyebrow.
Fred’s forehead was so hot. He’d be hungover like a dog tomorrow. It’d be Sunday at least.
“I know I’m an idiot.” Fred sucked in a breath that sounded awfully like he was about to get choked up.
“That Mark guy sounds like a big ol’ cunt.” Wes said instead.
Fred shook his head but they both knew Wes was right.
Their synced breaths were quiet in the dark, the thump of the music under them making the floor vibrate, voices leaked in faintly through the locked door.
“Wes?” Fred said in a small voice.
“Mhm?”
“You know you’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”
Wes’s heart constricted. Fred wasn’t one to talk about his feelings freely, he’d always find other ways to show them.
“I’ve not been there for you as much as i should have recently…”
It was true that Fred had pulled away from him, not just after the party where Fred got high for the first time but in general too. Schoolwork, practice, his frat and life in general all got in the way.
“Do you remember- remember when…” Fred’s sentence broke off.
Wes let him go on, not interrupting, because Fred was getting emotional and Wes knew not to overwhelm him.
Fred shuffled over and laid his head on Wes’s shoulder.
“Sorry, my head’s spinning so much, feels like it’ll just roll off of my neck like a bowling ball.” Fred explained.
“It’s cool.” Wes replied quietly, turning towards Fred and aligning their bodies so Fred could make himself comfortable.
“Do you remember that one time in high school when- when Hartford would bully me all the time?” Fred would often joke about himself, calling himself the biggest chump of high school ever to exist or how he’d now earned the title of a reinvented loser. Wes hated it, he’d lecture Fred about it every single time it happened.
“Yeah, I remember.”
“One day he- he’d caught me after gym class. It was late in the afternoon because the class always ran late… There was no one in the hallway. I was about to head home and-” Fred swallowed and shifted.
“He’d come from around the corner. He was alone but… he still chased after me. He’d wanted to dunk my fuckin’ head in the toilets. And- and he was actually about to do it.”
Wes then quickly realized when and where this happened and what Fred was going to say next.
“You came in ‘cause you heard how loud we were being. And you knew what was up without me even telling you. We- we didn’t even know each other like that but you beat the shit out of him without a second thought.” Fred took a shaky breath before continuing.
“This lanky guy with hair down to his waist and you were throwing punches like nothing. I… it was probably the craziest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
Wes won’t forget the day until he dies, seeing Fred on the ground, his hair in the fuck’s fist, thrashing and crying on the dirty bathroom floor.
It wasn’t the first time Wes had witnessed Hartford’s abuse. He’d prey on anyone who’d flinch.
“He was bleeding so much I thought you broke his face.” Fred recalled.
Wes snorted but not in amusement. “He was a pussy. Just because he was big he thought he could get away with everything. Fuckin’ shit for brains moron.”
Fred chuckled once. Wes knew the experiences in high school still haunted him and he often had nightmares about them.
Fred’s warm hand trailed down Wes’s forearm, making its way down to Wes’s wrist to hold it.
Wes knew Fred considered him somewhat of a safe space. He felt proud of himself for that, glad Fred could trust him so deeply when he’d often struggle to believe people genuinely wanted to befriend him.
“You saved me.” Fred exhaled, his breath smelled like liquor and fanned humid across Wes’s neck.
“I don’t know what you saw in me back then. I was such a fuckin’ loser.” Fred gasped out a pitiful huff disguised as a laugh.
“I was pathetic. Couldn’t even defend myself. I couldn’t say no. Didn’t know how to talk back, how to fight back.” His breath hitched and Wes’s heart fucking ached so badly it might as well have torn into two.
“Hey.” Wes said softly and wrapped his arms around Fred, embracing him even if it was awkward slumped like this.
He wanted to hold Fred. He wouldn’t let him fall apart, not like this, not ever, he’d never deserved what happened to him.
“You were never a loser, Fred. You didn’t know what the fuck was happening, you were a kid. He was on you everyday, you could barely breathe. It wasn’t your fault, Fred. You never deserved to go through that shit.” Wes shushed him and kissed his temple.
Fred trembled, quiet and miserable, way too close to tears.
“I’m here, yeah, nobody will hurt you.” Wes murmured to him, stroking Fred’s back comfortingly while Fred leaned into him.
“Wes.” Fred called out for him, pleading for him to be there in a singular word.
“Yeah, babyface, it’s me.”
Fred curled even more into him, his lips brushing against Wes’s throat. Wes tried not to let it get to him but he couldn’t help the faint shiver that made him spasm.
Fred started mouthing at him, his lips dry and warm, slicking up with his spit being moved around on Wes’s skin. He was drunk as shit, that’s what Wes told himself, nothing more, he just needed closeness and reassurance.
“Wesley.” Fred exhaled his name like a promise.
Fred turned towards Wes, facing him and kneeling. He cupped Wes’s waist, squeezing his sides like he couldn’t believe Wes was there.
Wes’s breath shook. He didn’t know how to stop this.
Fred let out a little moan after he’d tucked himself back against Wes again and started to lick on Wes’s neck, sucking and kissing like it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.
“Hhnng, Fred.” Wes cupped the back of Fred’s head and Fred hummed against him in reaction, scooting even closer and sitting over Wes’s thighs instead of kneeling beside them.
He felt Wes up, squeezing his pecs, his stomach, hands sliding down over Wes’s abs, dangerously low, close to where Wes’s dick was already half filled out. Wes’s chest rose and fell, quicker and quicker with Fred’s muffled grunts of appreciation.
“What’s gotten into you?” Wes squeezed out.
“Nothing.” Fred pulled at Wes’s belt with rushed tugs, Wes’s erection brushing against the back of his fingers.
“Wanna suck it.” Fred said drowsily.
A deadly hot flash rushed through Wes from his feet to the top of his head.
“Hey, hey, you don’t have to.” Wes stopped Fred. He probably wasn’t in the right mindset. There was a highly likely chance that he’d never sucked anyone off before either.
Fred let out a mewl of protest.
“Do you even know how to?” Wes considered.
“No, I’m not a fag.” Fred replied automatically.
Wes grunted in annoyance and wanted his eyes to roll so far back into his head that they’d get stuck. It was absurd how Fred’s words contradicted his actions. Wes would have to talk to him about it but it’d probably have to wait for later.
Nevertheless, Fred continued to dig for Wes’s dick, trying to pull down his fly.
“Hey.” Wes stilled his hands by clasping them in his own and got Fred’s attention when he stopped struggling defiantly. “How about we get on the bed instead of being on the ground like a couple of hobos? How about that?”
“Y-yeah, sure.” Fred tilted his head and nodded. “Take me there, B.”
Wes helped Fred get up, giving him a helping hand but as soon as Fred was stood his hands were wandering over Wes again, pulling Wes into him uncoordinatedly which caused them to fall over on the bed in a giggling heap.
“Punk.” Wes groaned, fingers going for Fred’s sides because he wanted to hear Fred’s laugh full on after the mop show on the floor.
“You know I want ya.” Fred sing sang under his breath, his words interrupted by bursts of his wild chuckles and batting Wes away. “Baybeh.” The same song he’d been torturing Wes with the whole week.
“You want this, right?” Wes asked seriously after their tickle fight ceased. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if Fred regretted this. He’d never want to betray Fred’s trust.
Fred quieted and shuffled closer to Wes, his hand on Wes’s thigh, squeezing and caressing. Wes didn’t recognize this Fred, his reservedness was gone. Everything was written on his face. If only Wes could see him clearly but the lights were off. You couldn’t have everything in life at once, it was dosed in special moments like these which you better held onto tight until the next one.
“Yes, fuck, Wes.” Fred answered, pressed and rushed, like it pained him to wait any longer, the exact state which got them in this situation in the first place. Fred looked irresistible to Wes when he was being needy. He was Wes’s to take care of.
His.
Fred was His.
“Can I kiss you?” Wes whispered out, those four words barely holding him back.
“Hm?” Fred hummed. He got distracted so easily when he was within reach of something he wanted.
“A Kiss?” Wes grunted, already cupping Fred’s cheek.
Fred naturally submitted to him, tilting his face just so, lips parted gently, inviting.
Wes closed the distance between them, licking into Fred’s mouth straight away. He felt so intensely for Fred, he wasn’t sure it wouldn’t consume Fred too, leak over into him.
Fred tasted like alcohol and cigarettes, a mark of what his brothers got him into. Wes hoped one day he could taste Fred’s lips and tongue untainted. He’d be just that sweeter, just that more purely Fred himself.
Wes roped himself back, having grasped Fred’s waist along with his face, manhandling him and stealing Fred’s breath away.
Fred let out an overwhelmed but contented moan as Wes had finally let him pull apart.
“Good boy.” Wes couldn’t fucking help himself, he needed Fred to know.
Wes stroked Fred’s cheek with his thumb, it was so warm and smooth. Fred always shaved like he was a little toy soldier, disciplined and neat, unable to break from his grooming rituals.
“Like that.” Wes murmured as Fred leaned into his caress. Praise did something wonderous to Fred, he’d open up like the petals of a blooming flower.
Fred let out a small discontented sound and pawed at Wes’s crotch, his hand was heavy like he was claiming ownership.
“Please.” He exhaled, still riled up from the kisses.
He slung his leg over one of Wes’s, the one which was resting on the bed, and tried to rub against Wes after he couldn’t get Wes’s pants undone. It seemed like anything would do it for him tonight.
“Oh, darling.” Wes cooed. It was a little funny too.
Wes slid his thigh between Fred’s completely, letting Fred grind against it. Fred twitched helplessly, the warm bulge of his dick pressing against the material of Wes’s pants. Wes knew he wasn’t making this easier on Fred. It was a lot. These past couple of weeks had been a lot combined and Fred was drunk and emotional but Wes couldn’t help himself. Fred was his and sometimes Fred forgot about it, Wes just needed to know he hadn’t forgot. Maybe he wanted to hear Fred moan his name again, maybe he wanted Fred to plead for him, maybe he only wanted Fred to admit his feelings out loud for once. Maybe he wanted Fred to realize that it wasn’t just friendship that Wes was offering to him.
“Mh, Wes.” Fred murmured to himself.
“Touch me?” Now, that hesitant question was clearly directed at Wes.
Fred lifted his shirt clumsily, it got stuck and twisted up mid riff, below Fred’s ribcage. He was cute and so fucking sexy even when he was fumbling around.
Wes smiled and slid a hand under Fred’s shirt. His chest was plush and dusted by soft tufts of hair. Wes was so awfully horny. He was burning up. Only, he needed to take in Fred fully before taking it any further.
“Like before? You want it?” He murmured to Fred, knowing it’d drive him crazy.
“Fuck.” Fred whimpered, his hips never stopping the slow rut against Wes’s thigh.
“Yes- yeah, please, I fucking want it, baby.” He gasped and pushed into Wes’s hands on him.
Wes didn’t understand how someone so unassuming in broad daylight could look pornographic in a dark lit room and with clothes still on. Wes was just about ready to close his eyes and let go like when he was thirteen and figured out boys were beautiful to him the same way girls were.
“You’re even prettier when you beg me.” Wes gushed.
“Shit.” Fred closed his eyes tight as if shielding himself from the compliment. “Why’d you gotta have such a dirty mouth, god, Borland.”
“So pretty boys like you get to nut over themselves while I talk them through it.”
“Ah-h.” A shiver wrecked through Fred and his mouth opened absently.
Wes licked across Fred’s lips where they were parted speechlessly and laughed. Fred was so struck.
“What? You thought I didn’t think you were pretty?” Wes purred, he didn’t know if to ache though, he thought it was obvious to Fred how he’d always admire him in those silent yet so clear ways.
He tipped Fred’s chin up after Fred shrugged, his eyelashes were shadows on his flushed dark cheeks in the lowlight. Ugh, he was embarrassed and there was something so innocent about it.
“You’re so cute, Fred.” Wes chuckled softly, now partially teasing.
Fred looked up at him with the most dazed expression.
“Are you messin’ with me?” His voice cracked as he swallowed.
“You think? Didn’t you feel?” Wes guided Fred’s hand over to his crotch which was just an inch above where Fred was slotted against him.
“Oh, fuck. You’re so hard already.” Fred said in awe. Wes was baffled by Fred’s reaction. Wes was more than hard. He was more than into it.
“Says you, hair trigger.” Wes snickered despite himself. Fred was his best friend after all, he would know Wes wasn’t making fun of him, he was ribbing him. “Few puffs of weed and you’re writing assignments.”
“Hey, not fair. You know I’m sensitive.” Fred defended himself.
Wes laughed even harder. “You always say that. Sensitive to what?”
Fred simply didn’t answer.
“Getting hard, is it a head thing or a dick thing with you? Who decides what happens, hm?” Wes questioned, he’d been dying to know.
Fred had always had a high libido, he’d drool if he saw a pair of tits drawn well enough on the toilet stall wall when they were fifteen. Wes found it kind of endearing how easily Fred got excited.
“Shut up, man. Are you seriously quizzing me right now? Freako.” Fred cringed and slurred, laughing faintly, giving Wes that caught yet accepting look.
“Answer.” Wes pushed on Fred’s cheek and Fred huffed.
He balled Wes’s shirt up in his fist and pulled him close. “You know you’re fucking hot. That’s why, Borland. Now do something. Do- do what you want before I can’t take it anymore.”
“Whatever I want?” Wes smirked, Fred’s admission made him feel fucking feral. Fred was making it harder and harder not to just fuck him through the bed.
“And if I wanted to fuck you?”
Fuck.
Wes hadn’t meant to say that
Fred shifted and his head tilted. “Like… full on?”
“Yeah, the whole deal.” Wes nodded, tonguing at his lip ring. He didn’t know what to expect of this at all, it was precarious and uncharted territory for them, it left him uncertain but dying to know more.
“Ugh.” Fred groaned, looking down as his frowned in thought.
“That’s kinda hot.” He sucked on his bottom lip. Everything he did drove Wes crazy, the uncertain twitch of his eyebrows or the shy downward pull of his mouth.
“I’d let you, I guess. I don’t know. Would it- would it hurt?” Fred answered in that truthful tone he seldom used when it came to deep within.
Wes was more than surprised that Fred even considered it. It didn’t align with Fred’s frat’s no homo policy, maybe they haven’t brainwashed him completely or maybe he was above it. Fred didn’t kiss and tell either, he usually kept his experiences private so Wes had no read on his sexual desires. Nevertheless, he was being offered way more than he could’ve ever imagined.
Wes groaned. This all felt even more filthy and forbidden with Fred being so demure about it.
“No, it wouldn’t hurt. I wouldn’t hurt you.” Wes reassured him sincerely.
“I wonder what it would feel like… with you.” Fred murmured, his breath picked up again like he’d admitted a secret.
Wes felt like the best parts of his wet dreams were becoming a reality. He was almost blinded by it.
Wes cleared his throat. “You’d take it so well, you’re patient, in tune with your body… You wouldn’t have to worry.” Wes stifled a moan, imagining it.
He arched Fred’s body into his by pulling on his lower back. Fred was so pliable like this. Their dicks slotted against each other and Wes tensed with a rush of arousal before unclenching completely, dick throbbing in his underwear.
“You’d relax for me and I’d finger you first, slow, letting you get used to the feeling. I’d make it good for you. Stretch you out, mhmm.” Wes hushed to Fred.
Fred stared at him, his gaze low lidded, his mouth half open, transfixed.
“I’d kiss you or suck your dick while I did it so you wouldn’t have to think about it so much.” Wes smiled.
“Mh.” Fred nodded and whined, he pulled back at Wes, using his hip as a leverage point to push them together.
“And what after tha-that?” He gasped.
“I’d tease at your hole, rub my tip against it until you were begging me to put it in.” Wes answered with baited breath, the friction of their clothes rustling loudly in the room.
Watching Fred’s reactions unfold right in front of him sent Wes’s mind into oblivion. He’d forgotten what it was like to be into someone so badly but not being able to do anything about it physically for the longest time. Lately it’s all been a mental game, a prelude, foreplay, and it was almost a relief with Fred being as into the main act as Wes.
Fred panted, letting out an eager ‘Uh huh,’ every now and then, encouraging Wes to continue.
“And then if you asked nice enough I’d put my cock in you, real slow, letting you feel every inch.” Wes drew the words out.
Fred trembled, his short nails biting into Wes’s hip and then his back as Fred latched on closer.
“Would you want me to hold you down? Hold your hands behind your back while I fucked you?”
“Yes, yeah… fuck, Wes.” His words ran into each other as he moaned. “You make me want shit I never thought I’d want. It’s- it’s messing with my head.” Fred swallowed. He was a breath away from Wes’s face.
Wes chuckled. “It’s okay, you can let go. It’s just between me and you. You can tell me what you want, baby.” He comforted.
It took a second but Fred’s lilted words spilled out.
“You’d make me take it? Give it to me hard?” Fred swallowed. He was extremely talented at pleading with his mannerisms alone.
Fred was already begging for it hard and relentless even though he’d never gotten fucked and didn’t know what he was getting himself into. Wes wondered why and how much Fred’s actual preferences while getting fucked would diverge from their little fantasy and he was more than eager to fucking find out.
“If that’s what you wanted. I could do it slow and sweet too. Caress you, smother you. Whatever you want. I promise.”
Fred whimpered, their movements were getting frantic. It was starting to hurt, Wes’s pants chafing his inner tight, his zipper digging into his dick, though the pain was just the perfect edge for Wes to stay in the now.
“What else?” Wes whispered out.
“And you’d tell me if I was being good?” The way Fred said it was almost petulant, he’d wanted to hold back because he was embarrassed yet again. Wes couldn’t stand him.
“Yes, angel.” Wes exhaled tightly, chest full of affection.
Talking to Fred was easy even if it was about this. Wes thought it’d be awkward and bumbling, unlike what his imagination conjured up as the perfect scenario but it was natural and Wes was ready to dish his heart out on a platter to Fred like always.
Fred scratched down his back desperately and Wes whined out, kicking his hips out against Fred’s, he was about to fucking come. He hoped Fred left marks, long red lines over his skin, that way when Wes would move and his shirt brushed against them he could be reminded of this. Not like he wouldn’t be mentally rooted right here before that.
“You make it so hard to resist you.” Wes admitted in the heat of the moment. The weight of Fred’s body against Wes’s made him wish for it to be like this forever.
“I want- want you so badly, Wes.” Fred replied through hiccuped breaths. “You’re the only who knows me. You’re so good to me.”
Their heads were practically pushed together and they were moaning into each other’s mouths. Wes’s heart was jack rabitting in his chest with the surreality of it all. He’d thought last time was too much for Fred but he was acting like it wasn’t enough. Wes would never be able to unhear the array of Fred’s most vulnerable little noises and hitched breaths. He would hold onto Fred’s confession tightly.
Fred was so perfect.
Fred came with broken off and drawn out ‘Ah’ kissed right onto Wes’s lips.
It wasn’t hard to follow him.
…
“Wes?” Fred whispered.
“Did you like it?” He asked hesitantly, catching his breath after they had laid back for a couple of minutes, both getting over the high of an orgasm. Fred’s inhales and exhales were now shorter but deeper and endearing to follow. The sheets were cool in the night air and Fred’s presence was a solid warm anchor.
“Yeah, ‘course I did.” Wes murmured with a lingering smile. He caressed Fred’s side, hand under Fred’s shirt.
“Can I have one more kiss?” Fred asked, Wes could barely hear him with how he was muttering.
“How about-” Wes was about to tease because Fred wasn’t one to be inarticulate.
Fred scooted closer, kissing Wes shyly on the mouth like he hadn’t tried to break into his pants or rut against him like an animal. Luckily Wes was into everything involving Fred, even if it was being rudely interrupted by him, Fred could cross a few of Wes’s lines.
“Thanks.” Fred sighed, hands sliding off Wes’s chest.
“You’re welcome.” Wes chuckled.
…
“Do you want me to pull your pants up?” Wes asked as they were cleaning up in the bathroom and Fred looked like he was about to fall over into the toilet bowl with how questionably he was holding onto the bathroom sink counter and dabbing at his underwear with a wad of toilet paper.
“No, I can do that myself.” Fred laughed.
“Sure?” Wes checked, about to invade Fred’s personal space for the millionth time tonight. He just couldn’t get enough of Fred being dorky and content, all Wes’s to enjoy.
“Yeah, quit babying me.” Fred made a face and elbowed Wes’s side, right between the ribs.
“Hey! Fuck.” Wes jumped and almost ate shit.
In the process of annoying Fred Wes forgot that his pants were undone as well, hanging around his thighs as he cleaned the cum bomb in his boxers best to his abilities.
Fred laughed so hard he started snorting and almost fell on the floor, hunched over and going limp.
…
The rational decision would probably be to drop Fred off at his dorm and his own room but Wes couldn’t. He just couldn’t do it tonight. Not with Mark lurking around clearly looking for an opening to humiliate Fred.
Fred looked peaceful and innocent in the passenger seat of Wes’s car. His eyes were closed, breaths barely audible, mouth pursed just so. He’d faded away the moment his body had hit the seat and they were away from all the stuffy pressured air of the frat party.
…
Later on, after Wes had helped Fred change into a set of his looser clothes, ones that were baggy on Wes but fit well on Fred, and tucked Fred in, Wes could finally settle in, knowing everything was in its rightful place and Fred was heavy and slack with sleep by his side.