Kyle wakes up feeling like shit.

Before he's even fully conscious, he groans, curling his body into as small of a ball as he can. His fingers tug at his blankets, holding them to his chest and covering his head with them to block out the light. His head hurts. It's pounding and throbbing intermittently between a dull ache and sharp sting behind his eyes. His stomach rolls, not quite nauseous but definitely unsettled.

Why do people actually enjoy drinking? This is terrible.

It takes him a moment to rise fully to consciousness, his mind fighting a losing battle to stay down and asleep. When he's fully awake, he keeps his eyes closed against the light, trying to sift through his memories of the night before.

He remembers going out with Jake to a quieter bar. He remembers, with a straining shiver of excitement in his chest, how Jake had insisted he had taken them there so they could talk and get to know one another. He remembers hours upon hours of just talking. He remembers saying far more about himself than he ever intended to, riding the high of Jake's presence, tongue loosened by alcohol, fueled by some sort of misplaced hope that he can't quite shake, no matter how hard he tries.

He remembers talking about his brother, which is not something he ever intended to do. But he didn't talk about his absence or his accident. Jake got him to talk about who his brother was. The good times. And that felt really good, actually.

He only wishes he had kept track of his drinks instead of just drinking whatever was placed in front of him. He hadn't expected to actually enjoy himself, and he hadn't wanted the night to end, so he just kept going. Now he regrets that decision.

He doesn't really remember when they left or how they got home. There are some fractions and snapshots of memory that lead him to believe that they walked back to his dorm together. He doesn't really remember getting here, though, or getting ready for bed.

He heaves a heavy sigh, his lungs aching. He probably made a fool of himself, and he probably looked like an idiot. Especially to Jake, who does this often enough to have control over himself. He just hopes he didn't ramble too much and annoy him. Whatever he did, it's too late to worry about it now. The damage is done, and he can stew in embarrassment later. For now, his head is throbbing, and his mouth is incredibly dry. He needs a glass of water, aspirin, a long hot shower, and some food. Stat.

He throws the blankets off, both hating and loving the cool air on his heated skin. It's refreshing, clears his head, but he also just wants to curl up and hide from the world for the rest of the day. Groaning, he moves, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands until he sees stars. They feel dry and heavy and incredibly tired despite just waking up. His skin feels sticky and unclean. He definitely needs a shower.

He pushes himself to his feet, arms dropping to his sides as he takes a step—

And nearly steps right on top of Jake.

He lets out a surprised squeal and stumbles backwards, landing heavily on the bed with his heart hammering in his throat. He watches as Jake groans, sprawled out on a makeshift pallet on his floor, body wedged oddly between two beanbags and covered in spare blankets. He stares, eyes wide and mouth agape, as Jake props himself up on his elbow, other hand rubbing at his eyes.

He looks around, dazed and disoriented from sleep, but not at all surprised to find that he's in Kyle's room and not his own. When his gaze finally finds Kyle, he smiles, lazy and dopy as his head lolls to the side. "Mornin'."

"I, uh—" Kyle stammers, licking his lips and trying to swallow past the lump in his throat. "Morning?"

Jake sits up, blankets pooling at his waist. He looks around, hand rubbing through his hair and making it stand on end. He yawns, idly scratching at the stubble on his chin. He looks completely at ease waking up in Kyle's room, and meanwhile Kyle thinks he might be having a heart attack. Or hallucinating. "What time is it?"

"I... don't know." He doesn't even know where he put his phone last night. It's not under his pillow where he usually puts it, so it might still be in the pocket of his jeans— he's not wearing his jeans. In fact, he's not wearing anything but his boxers and a t-shirt. He immediately grabs the blankets, pulling them over his lap as he sits on the edge of the bed, feeling incredibly exposed all of a sudden. He swallows hard, voice shaking as he tries to find the words to ask what's on his mind. "Did I get undressed, or did you...?"

"Oh, I did that." He says it so casually that Kyle feels his breath hitch. Jake glances over at him, blinking in his confusion before understanding crosses over his features. He offers a small smile and an offhanded shrug. "I mean, it's no big deal. I've helped drunk people get ready for bed before. And I do shower in a locker room full of dudes. It's nothing I haven't seen before."

Jake doesn't sound like he's hiding anything from him, but Kyle's heard stories. Not of Jake, but of college in general. Of going to the bar and getting drunk. Ending up somewhere undressed with little memory. He was opening up to Jake last night and high on the adrenaline from it. He wouldn't have put it past himself to get caught up in... things. Oh god, would Jake even want something like that from Kyle? Would they have done something like that drunk? Kyle is ashamed to say that he's fairly certain he would have, and fuck, what if he tried to start something with Jake and Jake pushed him away and that's why he's on the floor—

"Did something... happen last night?" He asks it before he can stop himself and before he loses courage to. It comes tumbling out of him, and he can only hope his voice isn't shaking as much as his hands are. Oh god, what if he fucked up— what if he really fucked up—

"Like what?" Jake looks at him, head tilted, and brows furrowed in a confusion that's entirely too innocent. Kyle squirms where he sits, struggling to find the words to elaborate. He can feel heat rush to his face and settle on his cheeks, and he can't quite make eye contact. He does notice when understanding flickers across Jake's face. His eyes widen, mouth falling open as he says, "Oh. Oh. Like that. No, no, man, don't worry. Nothing like that happened. We just got back, and I got you into bed, and you asked me to stay, and I didn't really wanna walk home anyway, you know? So I just... stayed."

He scratches the back of his neck, biting his lip in that nervous way he does, and Kyle looks away. His eyes fix on his hands in his lap, fingers clenching and worrying the blanket.

"Did you... want something to happen?" Jake asks slowly, carefully, like he's approaching a wild animal. Kyle refuses to believe there's any hope in that question, only innocent curiosity.

His head snaps up, face on fire as he stammers, "No! No, no, that's not— no." He doesn't know how convincing he sounds.

Jake puts up his hands, defensive and placating all at once. "Hey, it's okay. I was just checking, is all. You know. As a friend, or whatever."

"Right," Kyle says, nodding his head. He lets out a shuddering breath. "As a friend."

Jake's hands lower, and he leans forward, wrapping his arms around his knees. It puts him closer to Kyle, if only by a couple inches, but Kyle can practically feel him moving into his space. It makes his breath come short and his heart hammer against his ribs. "Sorry about, you know, getting you super drunk last night. I didn't mean for it to go that far. I just kinda lost track of the drinks."

Kyle forces himself to smile, shaky but genuine, glancing up at Jake through his lashes. "No, it's okay. It was fun. Well... not the last part, but before that it wasn't so bad."

Jake smiles, small and sincere. "I'm glad." He then shifts the blankets aside, awkwardly pushing himself to his feet as his body disentangles from his beanbag bed. He groans once he's up, putting his hands on his lower back and bending until he hears it pop. "Oh, man. Remind me never to sleep like that again." It's a casual enough comment, and Kyle hums a vague response. Then Jake looks around, scratching the back of his neck, and it's then that the strange tension starts to build. Kyle can feel it like static across his skin. "Well, you seem to be good and all, so... I guess I should probably go, or something."

"Uh, yeah," Kyle laughs, but it feels hollow and cracked. "We've got class to get to— wait, no we don't. It's Saturday." He laughs again and feels his legs shudder with it. His skin feels too tight, tingling in that way they do before they start to go numb. His breath comes short and ragged, and he stares at his hands, clenched and knuckles white around the blanket.

Then the bed dips beside him as Jake sits down. "Hey," he says, voice low and soothing. "Hey, it's okay. Calm down. Everything will be fine." His hand is on Kyle's back, warm and solid, rubbing calming circles.

And Kyle knows that. He knows it'll be fine. But that doesn't stop the buildup of— whatever this is. This strange and unfamiliar energy. The anxiousness that builds and builds with no outlet and sparked by unfamiliar situations. Logically, he knows it'll be fine, but that doesn't stop his mind from dwelling on it and spiraling into a pit that's so hard to crawl out of.

Still, Jake's presence next to him is calming. It's a warm, solid weight that's becoming increasingly more familiar. And when Jake mutters, "Come on, breathe with me, that's it." He does just that. It calms him. He can feel his body relaxing, easing down from the rising panic that had threatened to consume him. He leans into Jake's touch, leaning into his side far more than he probably should. He sighs, letting himself fall and rest his head on Jake's shoulder. He tenses for just a moment, but when Jake doesn't push him away, he relaxes.

Then there's the touch of fingers beneath his chin, gently taking hold and nudging him until he looks up. And Jake is— really close. Like, really close. He leans down, putting his face close enough that Kyle can feel his breath on his cheeks, burning his lips. He gasps, his own lips parting, and the fingers under his chin tilt his head a little more. Jake's head tilts, and their noses brush together. It's such a soft and intimate touch that shivers run down his spine and his breath shudders out of his lungs. His eyes flutter shut, and he barely dares to breathe.

It doesn't feel real. It doesn't feel real. This can't be real. It can't be—

Then there's the brush of lips against his own. Wet. Soft. Chapped. Warm. His breath hitches, and he thinks he might have jumped. Jake pulls away instantly, but panic seizes his heart, and unable to let the moment pass, Kyle leans forward, chasing after him. Their lips press together more firmly, awkward at first, until Jake tilts his head more and they slot right into place.

Kyle feels like he's melting. Like he's drifting away. He can smell Jake, hot and musky in his nose. He can feel him pressed against his side, the hand on his back slipping around his waist, the fingers under his chin curling into his skin to hold him firmly in place.

Lips moving across his own in a kiss that's so gentle and hesitant but still firm and needy enough to erase any doubt that it's actually happening.

Then Jake's lips are gone, and he moves back far enough to look at him, but still close enough that Kyle can feel his breath, ragged and panting. Just as lost as his own. Kyle gazes up at him, feeling dazed and more than a little confused. The arm remains around him, though, and the fingers under his chin move to trace light and fleeting patterns up his jaw.

He blinks, licking his lips and feeling them tingle. He doesn't miss the way Jake's eyes lower to follow the movement. "What do you want from me?" Kyle asks, voice broken and ragged, soft as a whisper. He fears the answer, but he needs to know.

Jake's brows pinch just slightly, but he doesn't move away. Instead, he moves closer, pressing his forehead against Kyle's and closing his eyes. "I don't know," he breathes. "Is that... is that okay?"

And because he doesn't want this to stop, whatever this is, because his body feels alight wherever they touch and the thrill of it all courses through his veins, urging him onward and giving him strength, he says, "Okay."

He doesn't get a chance to dwell on it or question his choices because suddenly Jake is kissing him again, shifting and pushing and maneuvering them both until Kyle falls back on the bed. Laying on his back, hands clutching desperately into Jake's shirt. Kyle lifts his chin and attempts to give as good as he gets. He's never kissed before, but he finds a lot of it comes instinctually. That, and Jake is really good kisser, and Kyle finds it easier to follow his lead.

It's sloppy, messy, and distantly he's aware that their breaths are terrible. But he doesn't care. He's kissing Jake. Holy shit, he's kissing Jake. And Jake is kissing him back with just as much fervor. He props himself up on his elbows, holding some of his weight up while the rest of his body lays out overtop Kyle's. He gasps, feeling the larger boy's weight blanket him. Feeling the firmness of his body pressing him into the mattress. Feeling the roughness of his jeans pressing on his bare thighs.

His legs part automatically, making room for Jake's body, and a gentle guidance of Jake's hand has Kyle wrapping his legs around his hips. Then Jake is shifting forward, thrusting his hips, and—

Kyle breaks their kiss as his back arches, head tossed back as pleasure ripples through him. It's unlike anything he's ever felt. Someone else pressing against him, grinding friction, hot and heavy, against his straining erection. It's almost embarrassing just how quickly he's this worked up, but in the moment, he can't bring himself to care. Especially not when Jake's hips pull back before grinding forward again, and this time Kyle can feel a hardness in Jake's jeans, rubbing against his own, and— oh fuck, that's new. That's new and it feels so, so good.

His hands scramble at Jake's body, clutching his shirt and fingers curling tight, nails clawing at his back with every slow thrust, slowly driving him mad. He gasps, soft groans falling form his lips, breath hitching in time with their movements.

Then Jake is gone, and Kyle is left reeling. Dazed and confused, his watches as Jake leans back, reaches behind him, and pulls his shirt over his head before tossing it to the floor. Kyle stares, mouth open, tongue wetting his lips as he's faced with Jake's well-defined chest, skin flushed and ribs heaving with each labored breath. He doesn't get to stare for too long because Jake's hands are scrambling at his waist, unbuttoning his pants and kicking them off to the floor.

Then he's back, settling between Kyle's waiting thighs, and Kyle gasps. He feels skin on skin, his thighs brushing against Jake's waist. Their stomachs press together where Kyle's shirt has ridden up, and his hands eagerly and desperately explore the wide expanse of Jake’s back.

And when Jake grinds against him again, Kyle sees stars. He can feel everything. He can feel the shape and firmness of Jake's erection against his own, the cloth of their boxers doing very little to hide it. Jake is hard. Jake is hard for him. Jake is hard and pressing against him in ways he never expected to feel so good.

He tosses his head back, Jake's hips moving mercilessly against his own and his lips finding Kyle's jaw, moving down his neck, kissing and sucking and trailing his teeth.

Kyle feels the heat building way too quickly and all at once. He comes without warning, his entire body tensing and spasming, leaking out into his boxers as Jake continues to thrust against him. He thinks he makes a sound, but he's far too gone to notice.

Jake's movements slow, his kisses along Kyle's collarbones becoming gentler.

When Kyle comes down from his high, he's immediately hit with a surge of embarrassment and shame. He groans, holding onto Jake with one arm while the other moves to cover his face with his hand. "I'm so sorry— oh my god, I—" He struggles to get his words out between breaths, chest heaving as he comes down. "I didn't mean to— so fast— it's my first time doing anything like this—"

Jake chuckles, low and enticing, making shivers run down his spine and his toes curl. Jake noses along his neck, nuzzling him under his jaw. "Dude, it's okay, really. I take it as a compliment. So... I'm your first?"

Kyle nods weakly.

Jake kisses him beneath his ear, a rumbling purr in his voice. "Cool."

"I— I wanna get you off," he says, voice trembling as the words feel strange on his tongue. He moves his hand, tilting his head to look at Jake.

Jake props himself up, gazing down at him, small amused smile playing across his lips. "It's not a scoreboard. You don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with."

Kyle frowns, determination pinching his brow. "I know, but I... I want to."

Something shines in Jake's eyes, but he leans down before Kyle can read it. The smile is still on his lips as they hover over Kyle's. "Okay. Touch me."

"I—" Kyle stammers, suddenly uncertain. "I don't know—"

"It's easy." Jake leans to the side, still propped up on one elbow while he takes Kyle's hand with the other. "You've touched yourself, right?"

Kyle feels his face burn. "Yeah..."

"It's just like that, but on me." He presses Kyle's hand to his chest, sliding it down over his stomach and past the waistband of his boxers. Kyle's finger curl as they meet hair, but Jake keeps gently guiding him onward. He wraps Kyle's hand around himself, holding it there and helping him through his first stroke. "There you go, just like that. Stroke me like you'd stroke yourself."

Jake's hand leaves his own, and for a moment, Kyle hesitates. Jake feels so foreign in his palm. Larger and thicker than his own, but smooth and firm. It's exhilarating. He's holding another man in his hand, feeling his arousal, and something trickles low in his gut, heat building despite the fact that he just came.

Jake shifts again, putting his elbows on either side of Kyle and ducking his head until their foreheads are pressed together. "It's okay. I'll like anything you do. Just touch me. Touch me, Kyle."

At the sound of his name, a broken and shuddering plea on Jake's lips, Kyle moves. It's jerky at first, hesitant and uncertain. But the more he sees Jake enjoying it, the more confident he becomes. Jake's breathing picks up speed, eyes squeezing shut and brows furrowing as his lips part. His hips jerk in time with Kyle's strokes, and he tests different speeds and firmness of his grip, testing to see what gets a better reaction from Jake.

"Yeah, just like that. Oh god, fuck, Kyle. Faster. Yeah, just like that. Keep going. Don't stop. Don't stop." Jake pants, licking his lips, eyes squeezed shut. Kyle watches him, fascinated, as his hand works. His wrist hurts, but he doesn't care. All that matters is tipping Jake over the edge.

And watching as closely as he is, he sees the moment it happens. The moment Jake's mouth drops open, face scrunching up, body tensing, and then the warmth of cum spurting out over his hand and wrist.

Kyle strokes him through it, and when he's done, Jake collapses on top of him with a sigh. With his clean hand, Kyle idly trails his fingers up and down Jake's back, uncaring that he can barely breath. He enjoys the weight on him. He waits for Jake to come down from his high, but he can't wait long before the doubts and anxieties start to catch up to him, intruding on their little bubble of peace.

"Was that... okay? Was it good for you?" He asks, fingers idly picking at the bumps of Jake's spine.

Jake chuckles, the sound low near his ear and rumbling through his chest. "I think the fact that I came is proof of that." He sits up then, gazing down at Kyle with unexpected fondness. It takes his breath away and makes him squirm under the attention. Then Jake is leaning down, pressing a quick and chaste kiss to his lips. "Come on, let's take a shower."

Jake instructs Kyle to wrap his arms around his shoulders and legs around his hips, and when he stands, he easily picks Kyle up. He gasps, giggling and lightheaded as Jake's hands move to grab his ass.

Right here, right in this moment, he's happy. This... he could get used to this.