Alcoholic Beverage; [n]: An alcoholic beverage is a drink containing ethanol, commonly known as alcohol. Alcoholic beverages are divided into three general classes: beers, wines, and spirits. An alcoholic beverage is a drink containing ethanol, commonly known as alcohol. Alcoholic beverages are divided into three general classes: beers, wines, and spirits.

Black could handle many things; punches, scrapes and bruises, even spiders crawling up the wall tk tk tk tk with their creepy eight appendages (honestly, who the fuck had that many arms?). Black could handle being ruthlessly bullied by an idiotic WoW player, and Black could handle being called gay over and over and over again. Black could even handle going to the doctors and feeling that cold, gray plate being held over his heart, feeling so inhuman as he sat there naked in the stark white nothingness of the hospital room.

But one thing Black could not handle was alcohol.

Dusty, however, could not handle much of anything, and usually took his frustrations out on twelve year olds on his server. Dusty, however, could hold his alcohol well, very well, this night, this particularly devilishly cold night in the dead of the winter/spring transition, both of them happened to be off their rockers, veins soaked to the core and drowned in booze, like sponges dipped in a pan of Budweiser.

Now Dusty, being the starving artist minus the art, had no jacket to his name while they were on their makeshift brodate (bronemy?), and simply was in his normal khaki-colored t-shirt with lazy French that he couldn’t speak sprawled across it in faded cocoa. Black, of course, wore a long coat that near went to his knees, buttons and straps and made of all warm fuzzy wool, and though it was undone, you could see the warm shirt he had bothered to put on. Both of their cheeks were flushed blushing pink, whether from drunkenness or the cold, but neither of them cared, singing songs of old into the night air while lazy fog curled out from around their lips.

Homosexuality; [n]: Homosexuality is romantic or sexual attraction or behavior between members of the same sex or gender. As a sexual orientation, homosexuality refers to “an enduring pattern of or disposition to experience sexual, affectional, or romantic attractions” primarily or exclusively to people of the same sex; “it also refers to an individual’s sense of personal and social identity based on those attractions, behaviors expressing them, and membership in a community of others who share them.

The part of town they were in wasn’t exactly the nicest; all the buildings dilapidated and crumbling and ancient, like giant groaning monsters waiting to be roused from their slumbers simply to crumble into rocky dusty among the skeletons of their ancient figures. A crummy hotel, lit with fuchsia and cyan neon lights, all sloppily arranged and pointed towards the door, immediately caught the brown colors eye, and with a lazy grab at Black’s hand, he dragged him between the swinging door and into the warm albeit stale air inside the hotel. Black let out a drunken bout of laughter, a tumbling ‘wherdya takin’ me?’ pouring out of his cold-flushed lips, hanging in the air like lead as they both realized that the hotel was near deserted, though noise of life shuffled from above. The front desk was stark and empty, a single bell hanging on the counter top.

Dusty had no interest in the front desk, nor taking a room. He continued tugging Black along, making a beeline for the hallway that led to the bathroom.

Black let out giggling feeble protests as Dusty shoved him into a cramped, tight stall, plopping him down on the closed seat.

“Lemme outta here, bro.” Black said, half-lidding his eyes and staring up at Dusty, who rest his hands on the stall wall. Dusty made no response, staring at the darker color with hazy, studying eyes. His pupils flickered, moving across Black’s face, unfocused and wandering, until they slowly started traveling down his face, his neck, his chest, his stomach his-

Oh.

This was uncomfortable.

These pants were far too tight for these kinds of shenanigans. Dusty slid his hands down the stall wall, creating a squeaking noise. He really hoped Black didn’t notice. He prayed to the Messiah. He prayed to the Devil. He prayed to Budweiser that Black didn’t notice.

Black did.

“Dude. Y’gotta BONER.” he said in another bout of laughter, but he was cut off when Dusty sat down on his lap, straddling him, his face no longer pink from the cold, but perhaps something else. Black blinked fuzzily, head tilting up and down over again as he looked at Dusty’s face, and then crotch, and face, and crotch.

Oh.

This was uncomfortable.

These pants were far too tight for these kinds of shenanigans.

Frottage; [n]: Frot is a slang term derived from frottage (ult. from the French verb frotter, “to rub”) describing a form of non-penetrative male/male sex that usually but not always involves direct penis-to-penis contact.

Somewhere, a small voice in the back of Black’s head told him that they should be quiet, that this hotel was occupied and this bathroom was not nearly as soundproof as they thought. However, a large voice in the back of Black’s throat tended to drown that out with gasps and moans. Dusty was no quieter, he straddling the darker colors lap, pants open.

It had been quite hard at first, because damnit Dusty no stop dude stop stop humping me while I’m opening my pants you keep smacking my hand out of the way and Black was getting almost frustrated at not being able to undo the button as Dusty rocked into him each time. After a couple minutes of Dusty trying (and failing) at ceasing his ministrations, they both got to rocking against each other, rubbing and groaning and really, if sex was even better than this then they honestly could have sodomized each other right there, right then. But they were too focused on the frotting, bumping against each other and bucking in the tiny, cramped stall that really shouldn’t have fit the both of them.

Dusty near screamed as he went over the edge, clipping Black by the shoulder and pulling him against him in a sloppy kiss and moaning low and loud into his mouth. Black followed soon after, and they both jerked in erratic patterns against each other, riding it out, spattering against each other and probably leaving stains on one anothers shirts that they’d be ashamed of in the morning. But for now, they didn’t care, leaning against each other and panting, faces flushed pink and blushing, the old walls and piping in the bathroom groaning along with them. Exhausted, they lay against each other in a post-orgasmic haze, the chill of the bathroom not even touching their pinked skin.

The hotel manager did not find it as romantic when he found them like that in the morning.