Baz's POV

I was not an alcoholic.

You wouldn't believe me if you knew anything about me, but you would if you knew everything.

I went to a different pub every night to catch the bartender I know who slips me free drinks. I wasn't underage anymore. Just dead ass broke. And that was one of the many problems I was hoping to drown out by turning down the volume with liquid courage. It's not that I hated life, I just wanted a little less of it. Especially on nights like that night. Friday. So maybe I was looking for a little trouble, and maybe, just like always, it found me.

"Hey, can I buy you a drink?" proposed a man that had been kissed by the sun. He leaned over the bar flirtatiously and waited politely for my answer. As if the rest of our nights had not been decided with that simple gesture. The music pounded all around us and multicolored lights changed the shade of his freckles so fast it hurt my head.

"Well, hello trouble." I took a pause to enjoy the way his brow lifted at that. Just the one. "I've been wondering when you'd get the guts to show up."

He laughed lightly. Everything about him seemed to be light. Obviously, the real world hadn't touched him yet.

"I'll have a scotch on the rocks and another of whatever he's having," he shot toward Andrea, the barkeep, who looked at me as if she has the right to be scandalized. I rolled my eyes so slightly only a mother could catch it. She must have had a litter.

"Red Bull and vodka, easy on the red bull." Andrea waved her hand at me and starts making the drinks. I'm tempted to turn back and look at him and as I felt his gaze trace the side of my face, I almost did. Almost. And then I did. He had both his elbows on the bar then, throwing himself over it so far his feet sit perched on tiptoes. Everything about him seemed to flop in the same sort of manner. Hair falling forward, backward, and into the fourth dimension. Fingers were carelessly strewn in between each other, laying on the table like stacked sticks. But softer. In general, he was softer. A part of me chanted a phrase something akin to RUN AWAY YOU STUPID TWAT, but another, bigger, part of me wanted desperately to know what it was like to have skin that has been kissed by the sun just under my fingertips. In retrospect, I should've listened to the yelling bully.

"Do you live around here?" asked the man just as Andrea finished our drinks.

"In give or take a few pubs and Indian restaurants."

"You're yanking my chain."

"And if I am? You've already bought me a drink." He flopped his head forward and pondered what I'd said for a moment. I took a long drink. I was not an alcoholic. He studied me a second longer before seeming to arrive at a conclusion.

"Well, I'm in town on a business trip. Stuck in a bloody hotel room for the rest of the weekend," he trailed off. Clearly waiting for my reply to the unasked question. I smirked. More at the world than at him but he receives it all the same. I swirled my drink before taking one last chug and letting it clunk onto the table for the last time. My stool scraped against hardwood floors.

"Lead the way," I invite while he throws down some cash for the bill. His shoulder brushes against me as he passes and I can't tell if he did it on purpose just to fluster me or if he's completely unaware flopping spread anywhere and everywhere.

His hotel room was too far. The cabbie kept trying to make idle conversation, like two guys on the way to a hotel room from a gay pub in the middle of the night was complete "no homo".

He was on the first floor up from the lobby and we took the elevator silently. I tried to pretend this wasn't my least favorite part of any night I spent in someone else's bed. That I was deciding to remain quiet instead of forced into it by this man's presence. I wanted to know if his freckles covered every part of him and I wanted to count them silently. I wanted desperately, hungrily, to know what he felt like. Maybe I'd had too many tequila shots.

The very second the man who had been kissed by the sun got through the door to room 119 I pushed him against the wall with my hands and caged him in. The door clicked shut. I looked into his eyes for the first time realizing how blue they were. Softer than the sky. I bent my head down to kiss him firmly and basked in the fact that I was taller than him. Taller than this man who had been kissed by the sun.

Our lips quickly grew desperate against each other. Moving together. Using each other for just one night. Everything about him was deafening. He was so alive. The skin of his stomach and hips moved and breathed with him as I pushed my hands under the hem of his shirt. He was so soft.

His fingers traced their way through my dark hair and pulled me closer still. He tasted like cheap scotch. I tilted my head to explore his mouth further and I felt the heat of his soul move with me, allowing me access. My right hand drifted up his chest as far as it could while it was still limited by his shirt. I spread my fingers out across his ribs and pulled him toward me forcefully. He took a large breath and his lungs filled the space between us so I could feel the oxygen swell in his chest. So alive.

One of the hands that had been pressed against the back of my neck moved to my shoulder and the fingers traced my collarbone until it disappeared under my shirt. Little fires followed him under my skin. I tried to focus on breathing.

He pulled gently away and looked into my eyes that probably looked dead and grey against his. Drowning out any blue I had to offer. I flicked them over his face. It was flushed pink from the last few minutes which only added to his glow. His hair was messed up but I suppose it had always been that way. His lips were swollen and parted his eyes filled with the darkness of wide pupils. I decided I liked him better like this. Right under my fingertips. Where his every breath of life bled into my own.

"Just to clear the air," he starts and I have to consciously remind myself not to swoon at the sound of his voice all husky and lust-filled. "I'm married."

"And I have a boyfriend," I respond truthfully.

"So we're on the same page?"

"Yep." I move my face closer to his so my next words float right of my tongue and onto his. "Now lose the shirt." He smiles. Fuck. He peels off his shirt while remaining close to me, each movement brushing me and intoxicating me more than liquor ever could. Then his shirt was on the floor.

Fuck.

Freckles and moles danced across his skin like stars in a soft night sky. His skin was tan and full of life. Filled to the brim with his soul.

I shivered under the warm touch of his fingers gliding up my torso. He caught the hem in his palm and kept pulling until the garment was over my head and laying uselessly on the floor. He pulled me closer and our lips crashed together once more quickly finding the rhythm from before.

When he broke free I opened my eyes and half expected him to get second thoughts and walk out the door. Even if it was his room. Instead, the soft heat of his mouth attached itself to the patch of skin where my jawline met my ear. I let out an involuntary gasp at the sudden contact, which only caused the other to laugh and send vibrations rippling through me. I bit my lip and braced myself with one arm against the wall and the other at his waist. He moved deliberately down my neck. Following my pulse and chuckling every time I made a noise of approval.

I let my eyes flutter closed and gave into the pleasure of having sunshine rain against my neck in a smattering of kiss. His lips pressed into the cool surface of my skin. His tongue moving in perfect circles at my neck, my collarbone, my shoulder. His teeth teasing me with feather-light nips at my flesh.

I curved my fingers through his belt loop and tugged him to me so we are standing flush against each other. With one arm wrapped around his waist, I moved the other to his hair and tilted his face up to meet mine. I kissed him roughly and start walking with him over to the bed. We stumbled together still far from sober. He didn't break the kiss when he started to undo my belt buckle frantically. Finally, he got the leather loose and discarded it somewhere in the room. Neither of us was watching to see where it landed. Instead, we fell together onto the soft mattress and continued to explore each other.

He drove his palms anywhere he could reach. He let them slide over my chest and trace in between my ribs. A sparkling feeling erupted wherever he placed his attention. I found a spot on the roof of his mouth that made him shiver. I shifted on top of him so that my legs were straddling his hips and my arms could rest bent on either side of his head and I catch his eyes. Blue orbs overwhelmed with desire. He dragged his fingernails up the pale skin of my back and leaned back up to capture my lips once again in a feverish mess of flesh.

I press my hips down onto his to ease the growing problem in my trousers. More. Closer. I needed him closer.

He arched his hips to meet mine and rolled them pornographically. I futilely brought a hand down to his waist to stay in control of what had become rather erratic movements on both our ends. Wildly searching for more.

Our mouths stayed close and pressed together. Open and gasping for air our lips stayed connected.

He was gripping my hair tightly and using it to anchor himself as his hips circled with mine. I moved the hand at his waist toward the button in his pants. It was hard to be successful when his hips were moving and my hands were fumbling as if they too were disoriented and fuzzy. Not to mention the fire rising to the surface in my skin and pooling in my gut. I gulped.

The button came free after a few more drunken tugs and the zipper pushed down on its own when I forced the fabric off his hips. He kicked them to the side and repositioned himself back between my legs. Feeling him move underneath me was muddying my senses. Aleister Crowley that boy was so alive.

His hands reached to start removing my pants. I sucking marks into the soft skin on his chest. It was littered with freckles and I wanted to kiss every last one. Something about the way I was molesting his chest was getting him worked up in the best possible way. I kept hearing soft sighs as his chest rose and fell underneath my lips. He was too distracted to finish removing my pants, so they stayed unbuttoned and hanging low on my hips. His hands settled at the waistband of my boxers that were now visible above my jeans.

I waited for him to move his hands farther down. To touch me where I needed him to. With feverish hands, he drew shapes that dipped close, closer, so close, then...fucking bastard. He'd trail back up my stomach and I'd swallow a pitiful whine and try in vain to have my hips follow those calloused fingertips and gain some release. Nothing.

"Fuck you," I gasped, my voice coming out a lot cracklier than I thought it would.

He smirked devilishly. "I thought we'd established that was your job." I fished a condom out of my back pocket before casting my trousers aside and grasping his wrists with both either hand and pinning them to the mattress above his head firmly.

Then I glided as seductively as I could toward his ear until I could feel the tiny hairs at the edge of his hairline. I purred softly, "Then tell me what to do smart mouth. Rough, hard, fast, do you want me to make you scream?" He was shocked silent. I felt his member harden on my hip through the thin layers of fabric that still acted as a barricade. I heard a small noise come from his throat that was somewhere between a moan and a whimper but nowhere close to English. I couldn't help but feel insanely proud that I'd beaten him at his own game. "That's what I thought," I hissed before locking his wrists together with one of my hands and moving the other one down to his boxers so I begin pulling them off.

He lifted his hips to assist me and soon they were added to the list of treasures littering the floor. My pair were quick to follow.

Suddenly we were grinding our hips together again and our mouths were clashing rhythmically. My fingers had hooked behind his knees and bent them up so I could view his tight entrance. Dripping in anticipation.

I laid three fingers on his bottom lip and told him to suck. He obeyed quickly pulling the digit into his mouth and coating them with his saliva. Even the simple, repetitive movement against nothing more than my fingers left me dazed. I had to blink rather forcefully to regain enough concentration to move my hand back down. I kissed the part of his neck where it started to bend into his shoulder. Right where the muscle moved just underneath to remind me how alive he was.

I teased my fingers around his entrance. Running my other hand up and down his thigh painfully slow as it had released his wrists, eliciting small moans from the other boy as well as some soft thrashing.

"Just do it," he begged. I pushed my first to fingers into him as far as they could against his tight walls. I began to scissor them and work at the muscles surrounding my fingertips to get them to relax. He was breathing hard and ragged.

Suddenly, the boy moaned and ground his ass down onto my hand.

"Shit. Right - right there...again, do that again," he stammered uncontrollably. I pressed my fingers against that spot again and I was rewarded with more beautiful moans. I continued to pleasure the spot.

Before long I was thrusting my fingers into him, making sure to hit that spot every time. He was writhing beneath me. And just like every other movement he had made that night, I could feel it. We were so close. He was so alive. I could feel his heartbeat against my lips as I found new spots to nibble and suck. A steady throbbing that only grew faster.

I added a third finger and twisted them around each other in an effort to loosen him a bit more. He gyrated his hips and welcomed the added volume.

After a while I got impatient. Watching a man who had been kissed by the sun flop carelessly into my control had made me painfully hard and in desperate need of something. I pulled on the condom and rolled it over my hard length. We shifted together until the tip of my cock was positioned at his entrance.

"What are you waiting for?" he asked almost pleadingly. "Please?" I chuckled.

"I'm just relishing the moment right before I ram you to bits, you know when you can still walk straight." The tips of his ears turned red and his mouth hung open slightly.

"Uuh...O-Okay," he murmured. Unable to form any other words. I forcefully thrust into him until I'm balls deep and his fingernails have dug crevices into my upper back. He tried to dampen his groans my biting his lip but only succeeded in drawing a bit of blood. As I waited for him to adjust to my size I licked the blood from his lip and pushed my tongue into his mouth.

I made two long thrusts before setting a rapid pace. He dug his nails further into my back and I felt him scratch me as he moved to arch his back in pleasure. I ran a hand up his torso to remember what it felt like. Heat radiated from him like he not only had been kissed by the sun, but he was the sun.

The hand that wasn't busy memorizing the curve of his hip bone and the dip between each rib, moved to stroke his throbbing member in time with my pounding into him. I felt the heat build somewhere deep in my gut.

I thrust faster and harder into the boy beneath me, watching his face contort in pleasure and feeling every inch of him squirm within my grasp. The bed squeaked. A sheen of sweat formed on the both of us making each kiss I stole slightly salty.

"I- I-...nngh-" he was cut off by his own moans. "I'm close," he breathed. I was too. With his fingers tangled in my hair, his legs wrapped around my back, his nails sending sparks through my very being, and him. His breath. His heartbeat. The way everything about him was soft and real. It was a wonder I'd held on this long.

"Just wait, just-just a little longer," I murmured against his earlobe before taking it into my mouth to nibble on. His nails dug in and he made a small noise as he forced down his impending orgasm.

I plowed into him. Violently chasing a release I had craved for too long.

The sweet mewls coming from the boy and his tight walls clenching and clamping around me became too much.

"Okay," I gasp. Fortunately, he understands because I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to form any other words. He came hard in my hand that was still ruthlessly pumping him. Milking him of everything he had. His release, the look on his face, the arch in his back, his asshole wrapped around my cock, I came after two erratic thrusts into his core and my vision blacked out for a second. When it came back little stars mimicked the sparkly buzz that ran through the rest of my body as I rode out both of our orgasms into overstimulation.

Exhausted, I collapsed onto the man whose skin felt like a warm comforter in your own bed. I lazily placed open-mouthed kisses on whatever patch of skin was closest as I moved my face up to meet his. His eyes were hooded and twinkling in their post-sex glow. His hair was a mess but I suppose it always had been. It always flopped where it wasn't supposed to. His arm had flopped similarly over his forehead. I definitely liked him best like this. Right at my fingertips where I could feel the steady rhythm of life that he exuded.

I forced myself to roll away from him. To throw out the condom and start putting on my clothes one layer at a time. How on earth had my shirt gotten there?

Getting attached wasn't the deal. Even if he was softer than anyone I knew.

I had to leave. Even if I wanted to stay. Because I was taking advantage of him in ways that he didn't even fathom. Life hadn't broken him yet, at least not the way it had broken me, and for just one night I got to bask in his sun.

That was the deal. Just one night.

In a moment of weakness, I allowed myself to glance over his form as it lay tangled in the sheets. Sleep had taken him quicker than I expected. He looked peaceful. I wondered if I ever looked peaceful when I slept.

Just one night I reminded myself.

I started to leave when I noticed my wallet sitting on the floor like it had fallen out of my pocket.

I left it there.