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“It’s about boundaries!” Eric shouts. He throws his hands out to emphasize he really means it and shoots Vince his most serious ‘I’m being serious’ look. “I cannot keep doing this with you. Grow up!”
Vince, still clearly not taking him seriously fucking grins at him and rests his chin on his hand. “You think we don’t have boundaries?”
Eric pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs heavily. “I know we don’t. That’s why I’m always here dealing with your shit.”
-
Vince had called him, completely wasted and slurring something about how the cocksucking cabbie was refusing to take him home. Eric, who was in the middle of dinner with a pretty and nice editor he’d met on set, told him to call his brother. Vince groaned like a toddler throwing a tantrum into the receiver. Need you, he’d said. Eric cursed and apologized to the girl before getting up to leave.
He got the details of where Vince was from whoever Vince handed his phone to at the party. When he got there, Vince was sitting on the front steps, head in his hands. The music from the party was slightly muted, but Eric could still hear it, and the bass was practically vibrating the air around them.
“Hey,” he whispered and rubbed Vince’s back. Anger still bubbled in the pit of his stomach, but right now wasn’t the time to bring it up. Vince looked up at him and smiled wobbly. He started to say something, then promptly turned to the side and threw up in a potted plant. Eric kept rubbing circles on his back and used his other hand to pull his hair away from his forehead.
Once he finished, Eric helped him stand and make his way to Eric’s car. He handed him a bottle of water and drove him home. Vince mumbled out a story that hardly made sense. Eric gathered from it that Vince had tried to drive someone else’s car home, but obviously that didn’t work. The owner of the car came out, politely kicked him out, and called him a cab. Vince got pissy and cussed out the cab driver for virtually no reason, then decided to call Eric. It irritated E even more to hear that Vince had had a ride home and chose not to take it. Eric clenched his jaw to keep from shouting at him. Vince must have been able to tell because he slurred out an “M’sorry,” and pathetically rubbed his hand over Eric’s arm in what was probably supposed to be a comforting gesture. He must be trashed.
When they got back, Eric helped him clamber into his room and into bed. He put the half-drank water bottle on his nightstand and left.
-
Admittedly, the girl had been boring. He wasn’t as interested as he’d hoped to be, so he wasn’t all that put out over leaving the date. But the fact that Vince had another way home, could have called someone else to come after him, knew that Eric was on a date, and still decided to call him, left him royally ticked off. He knew as soon as he dropped that “need,” Eric would be rushing after him.
And maybe that wasn’t entirely Vince’s fault. Maybe Eric was also pissed off that he’s always so willing to drop everything to get caught up in whatever Vince has got himself into.
He just lets himself get so worked up, and Vince loves to raise his blood pressure. Now they’re arguing in the living room. Or Eric’s arguing anyway.
The smug bastard was just sitting on the couch, watching Eric pace back and forth with just his eyes. Not even doing the work to move his damn head. God, it was pissing him off.
He stops pacing to turn toward Vince, fists balled up at his sides. “Would you just think-“ His mouth shuts with a click. Vince had slid off the couch in front of Eric on his knees. “What’re you doing?”
Vince tilts his head slightly, looking up at him before answering. As if he were playing at being shy. Except Eric knows he’s being played, and Vince hasn’t been shy about a goddamn thing in his entire fucking life. “I just thought if we didn’t have any boundaries,” he sways a little closer and licks his lips, “then you might as well let me make it up to you.”
Eric takes a sharp breath through his teeth. A flush was crawling up from his neck to his face; a mix of anger and… something else. He brings his hands up to run them through his hair, and they’re shaking. “You are going to give me a fucking heart attack.” Eric stomped away, up the stairs, and slammed his door behind him.
-
Eric’s able to make some calls, and the story about him trying to get a DUI in someone else’s car seems to have blown over after just a few days. He’s still giving Vince the cold shoulder, though. He wasn’t joking when he said he was tired of being Vince’s impulse control. Still. He couldn’t get Vince’s offer out of his head. He couldn’t tell if it was another way to make everything into a big fucking joke or if Vince really would’ve just sucked him off right there. If he wasn’t already pissed, he might’ve been able to laugh, shake his head, and tell Vince he was crazy. But Eric was rarely this mad at him, and Vince rarely pushed his luck quite this far. Vince just does things. The days Eric’s spent tearing his fucking hair out are the same days Vince spent getting into trouble. It’s been this way since they were fifteen, when Vince was stealing booze for them to drink in the parking lot and Eric pretended not to notice and paid for their Cokes. In a way, they balanced each other out. Eric kept Vince from crossing the line into exceptionally dangerous, and Vince kept Eric from never leaving home.
He’s sitting at the edge of Vince’s pool, just dangling his legs in the water, when Vince plops himself down right next to him. He tenses. His legs splash the water a little higher onto E’s legs, and when the water settles, he feels a chill from the newly dampened skin. It’s the first time they’ve been alone together since Vince’s stunt in the living room. Vince grabs Eric’s beer out of his hands and takes a drink before offering it back. E takes it, rolling his eyes. Vince can just take and take and take, and Eric will let him. He knows he will. He knows he’s already forgiven him before Vince has even said a word.
“E, I-“ He shakes his head and meets Eric’s eyes. It’s the closest to an apology he’s going to get besides the drunken one he’d gotten in the car. Just like that, it’s over. Eric can’t help himself and just grins before shrugging and taking a drink from his beer. Vince lights up, sitting up a little straighter before revealing a rolled-up paper from the pocket of his swim trunks. “You wanna smoke?”
Eric busts out laughing. He’s been in this exact position with Vince at least a hundred times. “Sure, Vince.”
Vince beams at him, clearly pleased by how this was going. He pulls out a lighter and lights up with both hands, holding the joint between his teeth. He takes a long drag before handing it over to Eric. Hold, release.
“You got anything else in your pockets? Did you even come out here to swim?” E teases before taking a hit himself.
“I am nothing if not prepared,” Vince replies cheekily, and a second j appears in front of Eric’s face. This sparks another round of coughing laughter from E.
They pass it back and forth a couple of times. They talk about some of the scripts Ari’s sent their way. Vince isn’t really interested, and Eric tells him he doesn’t have to do anything right now. The conversation veers into how badly Johnny had embarrassed himself at that party, trying to hook up with some girl who was clearly only leaving with him if he paid her. Eric laughs and brings up Vince’s disastrous date with Brittany Wheeler in the tenth grade. Vince shoots him an admonishing glance, then laughs with him anyway. Eric’s lying on his back on the warm concrete. He feels good, the fuzzy haze from the weed starting to overcome him. Vince snubs it out when it starts burning his fingers, hardly anything left, and holds out the other in offering. Eric turns to look at him and nods, but Vince’s eyes are wandering, and he misses it.
“Vince,” E says, and his voice comes out hoarse from the smoke.
Vince’s gaze had traveled somewhere near his navel. He doesn’t even try to be discreet when he drags his eyes back up to meet his. “So?”
Eric feels his face heat up. He nods again now that Vince is paying attention and sits up. He goes to take a drink of his beer, but realizes it’s empty. He frowns and holds it out to examine it, wondering how that happened. Vince laughs at him lightly and says he’ll be back, leaving wet footprints behind him as he walks away.
Eric watches him go, then reaches his arms up to stretch his back. The evening sun was starting to disappear. E’s feet were starting to prune, and he could feel the heat of a sunburn starting on his forehead and shoulders. He slips into the water and completely submerges. When he comes back up, Vince is sitting back down where he was, two more beers in hand. Eric swims back over to him and takes the drink gratefully. Vince lights the other j and takes a hit while he does. Hold, release. Eric sets the bottle down next to Vince. He reaches out for a smoke. Vince moves backward and holds it up above his head.
“No way! You’ll ruin it. Your hands are wet,” Vince explains. “C’mere.”
Eric, ever compliant, moves so he’s standing between Vince’s knees. Vince reaches his hands out and places one on his jaw. The other holds the paper to E’s lips. Eric looks up and holds eye contact while he breathes in. Vince’s thumb moves along his jaw, and he starts leaning down. Eric knows what he wants without having to ask. E holds his breath for a moment, and Vince uses it to move the joint out of the way. He waits, holding his mouth in front of Eric’s, lips parted. Eric releases the breath, and Vince breathes in the smoke. Hold, release. Vince leans back, and E follows him, leaning with him without even realizing it. Vince smirks and sits up all the way. Eric’s staring at his mouth, eyes half-lidded. He watches as Vince takes a drink. He watches the long neck of the bottle touch his lips and his throat bob when he swallows.
“I broke things off with Sarah,” Eric blurts while Vince drinks.
Vince’s eyebrows move up slightly in surprise. His face returns to its lazy smile quickly, though, and it’s the only reaction he gets. “Want another hit?”
Eric nods. His head feels light, and the world is spinning in the best way. Vince takes a drag, then he’s leaning down again. Hold, release. E’s lips part and he breathes in the smoke. Vince lingers, their mouths close but not touching. Then goes to lean back again.
Eric suddenly throws his arms around his neck to keep him down, desperate to keep him close. The sudden weight pulls them both down into the water. Vince falls face-first. E darts away on his back to avoid getting crushed beneath him. Vince shoots up out of the water, coughing, choking on a mix of chlorine and pot smoke. Eric’s laughing. Then he sees the ruined joint floating in the water between them, and he starts laughing even harder. Vince picks it up and throws it at him.
Vince is starting to snicker a little, too. Still, he says, “You’re such a dick,” and punctuates it by splashing Eric.
E shouts, “Hey!” in between giggles and splashes him back. He’s riding a high that keeps a permanent grin on his face, and he can’t stop himself from laughing while they’re splashing each other back and forth. In this moment, he feels young and happy.
“Alright!” Eric starts marching toward Vince, but the water’s making him move slow and ridiculous. “You’re done.”
“No!” Vince shrieks, and he starts swimming away toward the edge of the pool. He turns when he reaches it, and Eric’s right there. Eric grabs his sides, fully intending on dunking him. Only as soon as he touches him, something breaks, and Vince is kissing him almost instantly. Eric freezes in surprise. Even though he knew damn well where this was headed as soon as Vince had sat down next to him. Maybe even before that. He pushes back. Vince hums into it and relents right away, his hands landing on Eric’s shoulders as though to keep him there. E keeps pushing until the edge of the pool is digging into Vince’s back. Vince hums into the kiss, and then Eric really starts to go for it. Lazy, messy, exploratory. Vince’s breath hitches. E starts kissing his jaw, down his neck. He skirts his hands along the waistband of Vince’s swim trunks.
“Wait,” Vince chokes out, “C’mon.”
He braces his hands behind him and pulls himself up onto the concrete. E puts his palms on either side of Vince’s thighs and pulls himself on top of him. Vince leans back to make room for him, and somehow E’s on top of him, kissing him again. They’re lying on the ground in a puddle of pool water, and he’s so, so high. He feels dizzy and elated. They’re grinding together in time, and Eric feels lightheaded with want. Vince wrenches away from him, panting. “E, E, we’ve gotta- you’ve gotta-“ Vince gasps. His desperate tone makes Eric groan. He leans down to kiss him again and then rolls off of Vince to stand. He holds out his hand. Vince takes it and shakily gets up. Eric keeps ahold of his hand and drags him in so they’re chest to chest and kisses him again. And again.
Vince takes a couple of steps backwards, and E follows him. He keeps his hands on Vince’s hips while they make their way toward the door. Vince stumbles a bit, so he turns around to walk normally, but E stays close behind, landing his open-mouthed kisses on his neck and shoulders instead. Vince has got all kinds of crazy patterns etched into his back from lying on the concrete too long, so Eric brings his hands up and sweeps them up and across Vince’s back. “Jesus,” Vince says before finally opening the door to get inside.
They stumble through the threshold and make their way toward the stairs. Vince starts to bolt up the stairs. He only makes a couple before his foot slips on the edge, and he falls forward. Eric, who was directly behind him, gets kicked in the process and lands on top of him. They both groan and roll away from each other to sit on the steps, then burst out laughing.
They make it the rest of the way up, carefully this time, and stagger through Vince’s door. Vince slams it shut and turns to lock it. When he turns back around, E pushes him back against it by his hips.
“Okay?” He asks, leaning forward to bite at Vince’s collarbone.
Vince hums in answer, lightly dragging his nails down Eric’s back. Eric nips at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. He starts to stick his hand down the front of Vince’s shorts, but Vince grabs his wrist and flips them so E’s back hits the door. He kisses him roughly. Eric moans into it. It’s filthy and wet and so fucking good.
“I’m supposed to be making it up to you, remember?” Vince says into his mouth. He slinks down to his knees.
“Vince.” He looks down at him, eyebrows scrunched together. “You don’t gotta-“
“I want to,” He interrupts. His hands on Eric’s hips, his head tilted. Practically replicating his move in the living room. “I’ve wanted to.”
Vince leans forward and mouths at him through his swim trunks.
“Fuck,” E moans and runs his hands through Vince’s hair. Vince tugs the shorts down his thighs. It’s a little awkward since they’re sticking to his damp skin, but E’s too high and worked up to care.
Vince leans forward again once Eric’s free and licks a long stripe up the shaft. He wraps his lips around the head, swirling his tongue around it before bobbing to take as much as he can in one go. The back of Eric’s head thumps against the door, and his hands tighten in Vince’s hair. Vince moans around him, and the sensation makes Eric’s knees buckle. It feels like Vince’s mouth is his center of gravity, and waves of heat and pleasure are just radiating through him from there.
He picks his head back up to look down. Vince’s eyes are screwed shut, he’s squirming, and he’s moaning and drooling around Eric’s dick. Like it’s doing just as much for him as it is for Eric. “Oh holy fucking christ,” E rasps at the sight, and his hips buck forward of their own accord. Vince chokes a little and pulls back slightly, whimpering. “Sorry, I’m sorry,” Eric babbles and pulls Vince the rest of the way off while Vince whines in protest. He starts to pull his hands out of Vince’s hair, going to help him stand, but Vince catches his wrist. He settles the hand back into his hair.
He leans forward with parted lips, his tongue resting on his bottom lip, and waits. Eric’s jaw drops open. Vince is looking up at him expectantly. He hesitantly cants his hips forward. His dick just barely pushing past his lips. His breathing is ragged and loud as he experimentally pushes on Vince’s head with the grip in his hair. Vince is pliant. His eyes flutter shut and then reopen to keep eye contact. E pulls out slightly and then pushes farther into Vince’s mouth. “Fuck. Oh fuck. How are you real?” He starts slowly fucking into Vince’s mouth. He continues murmuring out praise between thrusts. “Fucking wet dream,” and “God, you’re so fucking hot.” Vince groans around him, removing a hand from Eric’s hip to adjust himself in his shorts. Eric takes it as a cue and starts fucking his mouth in earnest. It feels so good, and he’s floating, and Vince is acting like he’s starving for it. The heat in his gut is unfurling in waves, and he knows he’s not going to last much longer.
“Vince,” he warns, pulling on Vince’s hair. Vince just moans in reply. “Seriously, Vin, I’m- I’m gonna-“
Vince suddenly pushes further. He makes an absolutely obscene noise and takes him all the way. His nose presses into Eric’s lower abdomen, and Eric’s dick bumps against the back of his throat. E gasps and shudders, and then he’s coming hard and fast. Vince breathes hard through his nose and swallows around him. He keeps going, licking and sucking until Eric hisses and pulls roughly on his hair. “Vin, you’ve gotta stop, I can’t. You did so fucking good, but I can’t, I can’t,” he begs, voice wrecked and frenzied. Vince finally relents. He pulls off, and Eric sighs in both relief and overstimulation.
He slides down the door so he’s sitting on the floor and takes a few heavy breaths, trying to reorient himself. Then he crawls over to Vince and kisses him hard. “So good. So fucking good, Vince.” Vince sighs contentedly into his mouth. He drags his hand up Vince’s thigh, expecting to get a handful, but he’s not even half-hard. E pulls back, confused. He opens his mouth to ask, but Vince answers before he does. “I came right before you did,” he admits, shrugging. Eric thinks about the noise he made right before deep-throating him and groans, resting his head on Vince’s shoulder.
Vince eventually pulls back to kick his shorts the rest of the way off and then stands unsteadily. Eric tracks the movement, eyes soaking him in everywhere.
“I need a shower and then I’m sleeping for days,” He says, walking into his bathroom. He turns on the water and returns to lean against the doorframe. A beat. “You coming?”
Eric scrambles up after him, kicking his shorts off on the way.