The noisy crowd, the decadent drinking, the unwelcome touching, unfamiliar crowd; Craig had quite a few reasons why he disliked parties immensely. Everyone at this party was drinking and laughing when he just… wanted to be anywhere but here. He had come with Rick, who was currently missing while Craig awkwardly stood as far away from a drunken crowd as he could with a simple glass of wine in his hand and a magnificent scowl as he faced the owner of the house's bookshelf. He was judging their taste in literature very, very hard; really now, that copy of Dante's Inferno didn't even look like it had its spine cracked once, not even to mention that it was missing the rest of the Divine Comedy. While he was glaring at row after row of unread books, a pair of arms very slowly wrapped around his waist and the sound of metal clinking draped over his head until a pair of dog tags rested on his collarbone.

Rick; Craig realized, gripping the man's forearm before his hands wandered a bit too low, "Havin' fun, Peaches?" he slurred, voice muffled slightly by the way he was nuzzling into Craig's hair.

"No," he said sharply, trying to forcibly pull the man's bigger hands away from his beltline, but it was no use, they slipped just under the seam of his trousers, "You are drunk, you… you jerk."

Rick lifted his head slightly, blinking, "Jerk? Why'm I a jerk?"

"You left me in a party where I know no one and… and…," he was getting worked up, Craig felt himself being pulled backward into Rick's chest and his raw nerves wanted nothing but to sink right into his steady balance, so he did.

Craig's wineglass was carefully pulled from his hands and set atop the bookshelf, high. The dogtags in front of his neck jangled slightly and he winced at the unwelcome noise, but letting a slightly swaying Rick cradle him right there was outweighing any new stress. The big oaf was humming something tuneless, it was an odd juxtaposition to the din from the laughing crowd in the adjacent room, but it was oddly relaxing.

"Y'wanna know somethin'?"

"What?" Craig huffed, still surly.

"'m sorry I left ya here, some douche dragged me someplace 'n I got caught up talkin' 'bout ya."

Craig scoffed, disbelieving, but Rick continued, "One'a th'guys kept callin' ya a stuck-up asshole, 'n I had'ta go'n tell'im how wrong th'bastard was."

The blonde flushed just slightly, flustered enough by the fact Rick had stuck up for him not to notice Rick's thumbs tracing along his belt. The bigger man hummed again, something that sounded like he was thinking.

"Y'know, I left ya here all by yer lonesome," he said conversationally, fingertips tracing the buckle, "I should try'n make it up to ya."

There was literally a second between the offer and Craig's belt suddenly hanging loosely from his belt loops. Craig gripped the man's bigger wrists and pulled, frantically, all while the other man was pressing lazy kisses behind the shell of his ear. The gasp Craig made was nearly deafening in the small room and by the time Craig realized the fastenings of his trousers were undone, his length was already being massaged through his boxers.

"RICK," he hissed, voice hitching just slightly, "We are at a PARTY, they will HEAR!"

"Better be quiet then, sweetheart."

He wasn't sure if that strained half of a whimper was something the blonde imagined coming from his mouth or not. Craig could feel the tipsy man's rumbling laugh right in his lungs, or perhaps that was the lightheaded, shortness of breath he was getting while his cock was quickly brought to full hardness without much effort from his shameless boyfriend. The back of his head hit Rick's collarbone with a metallic scraping from the dogtags hanging around both of their necks. Even if Craig had wanted to escape somehow, Rick had planned to make it difficult with those damned tags so close to his throat.

There was a small bit of awkward fumbling so Rick could get his hand around Craig's length, murmuring something that Craig couldn't quite hear over the anxious pounding of his heart and the distinctly louder talk from the crowd in the next room. A thumb started to rub the head of his cock, making a definite full whine spill from between Craig's lips. He'd given up any attempt to pull Rick off of him, taking to holding on to the bookshelf in front of him for dear life.

"Rick, please," Craig breathed, voice just a hair away from sounding like a desperate keen, "W-we're in p-public… oh!"

Just as soon as the quick, surprisingly deft stroking began, Craig shut right up with his back arching into his partner, glasses slipping down his nose with the sheen of sweat gathering on his face. His mouth was drawn into an exaggerated shape, his eyebrows drawn together tightly; if Rick kept this up, he was going to come in their friend's apartment without any means to clean himself up. Teeth on his earlobe, biting and yanking almost had Craig thinking he was done for, but Rick unexpectedly began to re-fasten his slacks with a kiss to his bitten ear.

"Think 'm drunk 'nough that y'gotta take me home," he said in a low tone, drawing out a frustrated, shuddering sigh, "So y'gotta drive th'truck… 'n I don't. If y'know what I mean."

The dog tag chain was lifted from around Craig's neck and the keys were shaken with a loud noise in Rick's pocket. He wondered why Rick was forcing him to drive, but there wasn't much time to speculate. There was already attention called to them by the noise of the keys. Embarrassed as hell and still painfully hard, he righted his clothing and couldn't even force up a scowl to shoot back at Rick's lazy smile.

"Think we kin finish in th'car. Hurry," he murmured, making the flush on Craig's face darken. He was too riled up to argue; he had better be in for one damn good blowjob…