Today is finally the day he will be able to make those stupid passport photographs he is supposed to get done for weeks now. Soon he will finish his driver's license and there is not a single existing one he would want to use for that special, once in a lifetime occasion.
On this sunny, awfully hot Saturday, Seth is dead set on doing this. He has spent an eternity in the bathroom, annoying not only his mother for blocking it like he suddenly turned into Kim Kardashian. Of course he has a brush in his backpack, as well as some other little helpers, should he look as if he put his finger in a wall socket once he arrives at the mall.
As soon as he pulls the curtain close and is all alone in the photo booth, Seth takes a moment to compose himself, watching his reflection in the monitor. He looks just as disheveled as he predicted, the warm weather making his hair all fuzzy and don't even get him started on the sweat covering him, letting his clothes stick uncomfortably to his skin. Good thing he brought a comb and some moist towelettes.
That's Seth Rollins for you, always prepared for everything – especially for the worst.
He has no idea how long he sits there, deleting picture after picture, getting more frustrated with each one he hates. Why did he like his mirror image in the morning but thinks that right now he looks as ugly as the day he was born and covered in all kinds of gross stuff? He is still the same guy. Seriously, how can his own perception change so drastically in the span of a couple of minutes?
Seth takes his contacts out again, settling on sporting his glasses because that is a hundred percent him. He has never been a big fan of those lenses. Some people are completely fine with wearing glasses and Seth is one of them. They have never bothered him in any way, not even when he has to constantly readjust them on the bridge of his nose. They are a part of him, just like his blond patch or the tattoo on his wrist.
The minutes pass by without Seth being able to produce even a single acceptable photo but since there is no one waiting outside, he guesses it is okay to hog the machine for a little while longer. He has to get these done by today or else he will never find a suitable picture for his license.
But the longer he sits here, dismissing one shot after another, the angrier he gets and soon Seth is close to just say screw it and give up. The moment he is about to smash the monitor in, the curtain gets drawn back and another teenage boy – maybe a bit older than Seth – barges into the tiny booth, pushing Seth into the far corner to practically sit on his lap.
He barely has time to take in the other's looks – Seth only catches blue, washed out jeans, a silver belt buckle, a black tank top and a gray, worn out leather jacket out of the corner of his eye – as the boy is getting comfortable on his left leg, grinning into the camera with a smug expression.
'I– I'm sorry?' Seth says, not quite sure what an appropriate reaction would be. It gets even weirder than that, as the stranger with the chin-long, light brown hair doesn't answer and just plants a kiss on Seth's lips when the camera goes off, capturing this awkward moment.
As the other draws his face back a bit, Seth can only laugh nervously, his voice breaking as if he just hit puberty when he stutters, 'I p-promise, I will be d-done in a second. I know I have been occupying the booth for ag–'
There is no time to finish the sentence because Seth is getting kissed again – more passionate and demanding than before and he automatically parts his mouth, allowing whoever is, quite literally, hanging on his lips to explore it with his tongue and suck the air right out of his lungs. He is so busy with asking himself what this is all about that he almost misses the fingers sneaking up his back and into his hair, holding his head loosely in place.
Distantly, Seth can make out a sound that doesn't fit in with the tiny moans crawling out of his throat unbidden and it takes him longer than usual to realize it's the camera clicking. A part of him is curious and excited what the unknown guy will come up with for the final two photographs and his silent question is being answered with the next, violent heartbeat.
One hand frees itself from his blond patch to wander down his chest and to his pants, cupping Seth through the fabric and almost all his blood shoots into that region – the meager rest settles in his cheeks to show his embarrassment about immediately getting a boner. His worries fly out of the window the second he feels the teenager smile against his mouth though; apparently that was the reaction he was aiming for.
The other breaks the kiss completely out of the blue – leaving Seth with puckered lips, waiting for the action to continue – just to start nibbling softly at his earlobe, the left hand rubbing over the growing bulge in his pants, bringing him closer to the edge in a horribly short amount of time.
For some very fortunate reasons this boy knows how to push all the right buttons, as if he has known Seth forever. It's nice letting go of his urge to always be in control of everything.
This time, he completely misses the camera making the third picture, the click echoing in his now empty head, and he files the noise away as something that doesn't have anything to do with this surprise make-out session and the handsome, gruff looking stranger.
Somehow, Seth manages to squeeze out a feeble why because as pleasant and thrilling as this is, he is eager to know the reason for this uncommon event. Seth could live with this being a dare or something mundane like that, as long as he does not hear a barefaced lie.
The boy lets his hot breath ghost over the wet streak of skin right behind his ear, making Seth shudder as his body begins to tense in a very familiar way. No, no, no, no, no. Not so soon. Not like this. Oh God.
Oh God, yes.
He is about to come in his favorite skinny jeans because someone he doesn't know – but who smells so freaking alluring – keeps rubbing his hard-on with swift, educated motions and the worst part about this is that the other boy isn't even actually touching him.
'Why not?' comes the cocky, confident back answer and Seth shivers pleasantly, sparing a second to admire the laissez-faire attitude before his body finds release just as the camera goes off for the last time; the other covering Seth's mouth with his own lips once more to muffle the voluptuous moan as he gets stroked through his orgasm.
Seth receives one last, pretty innocent and tender kiss that feels too much like an apology or goodbye and that hurts him more than it should. Then the weight on his leg is gone and he is once again the only one sitting in this booth, trying to breathe evenly while processing the past couple of minutes. It kind of feels like he got catapulted to heaven and promptly cast out because he broke the rules without knowing it.
His gaze falls upon his blushed mirror image, his eyes taking in the messy hair and blissful smile splitting his face in half. The air around him still smells like the other and Seth sincerely hopes that the scent of leather will stick to him until tonight, so he can relive this moment over and over.
Seth's thoughts come to a screeching halt as he sees the words on the monitor change and hears the huge machine working. His orgasm is just getting printed. The guy must have ordered two sets before dashing out of here, wanting his own copy to hopefully remember this day for a long time too.
He is too flustered to get out of the photo booth, pretty sure his legs wouldn't carry him anyway. Not after coming in his pants and making out with a stranger that he surely won't ever forget. If his mind were still up to full speed, it would yell at him to at least ask for the guy's name or number, but Seth is still high from his unexpected quasi handjob, thankful that Lady Luck was on his side for once.
When he hears the strips coming out of the printer, he is finally able to heave himself up into a standing position, fixing his rumpled clothes. No one needs to know what happened to him; this experience is theirs and theirs alone. He should hurry up before anyone sees the second batch and decides to take a look at it; witnessing first-hand what Seth's orgasm face is. Not even Seth knows, so this is a secret only he and the mysterious teenager share.
The boy with the intense blue eyes is miraculously still standing there – Seth can't even stop himself from sighing overly relieved –, holding both sets; a warm, breathtaking smile revealing very cute dimples. For a dreadful second Seth can't swallow, convinced the teen will take both stripes and just disappear but then he hands Seth one of them with an amused name's Dean and winks, turning around to stride away; the heavy thump thump of his boots the only thing Seth hears in the crowded mall.
I'm not quite sure if you use passport photos for driver's licences in the US, but you definitely do where I live. So I'm sorry for this little plothole. I'm not sorry for the rest =3