Blame it on the Vodka – Stango

“Steve?” Tango asked looking up at him through long lashes, his lithe body laid out on the bed. Steve smiled casually back at him. The vodka was settling into their blood, pumping sedation through their bodies. A blunt thumb stroked over Tango’s wet lips. “Kiss me,” he whispered.

The motion seemed slow and clumsy as Steve leaned forward from his sitting position. He put one hand on the bed at each side of Tango’s head, lowering himself down, lips puckering. Wrapping his arms around Steve’s back, Tango eagerly craned his neck up, meeting him halfway. A cautious first kiss, soft lips on soft lips, neither man closing his eyes. Tango lowered his head back down to the pillow, tongue darting out, tasting his lips. Steve followed him down, stopping inches from him. “That was good,” Tango whispered.


Steve nodded, eyes never breaking contact. “I want to kiss you again,” he whispered back.

“Okay.”

Parting his lips slightly, Steve leaned down, kissing the man beneath him gently. He dragged his tongue slowly across the closed lips. Tango opened willingly, allowing Steve’s tongue entrance, massaging against his own. The presence of vodka and cranberry juice was still strong on their breath. Hesitant hands settled on his back as Steve clumsily climbed over the body laid out before him. A knee on either side of Tango’s narrow hips, he pulled back from the kiss, taking a moment to look down at the lust in Tango’s eyes. The voice of reason in his mind was whispering to him, but he couldn’t quite make out the words through the haze of the vodka.

Tango looked up at the man above him. His body responded instantly to the heat in their kiss, thrumming, wanting nothing but more physical contact. His heart thudding against his rib cage, Tango fisted his hands in Steve’s shirt, pulling him down to rest on top of his body. “Kiss me again.”

Steve closed his eyes as he kissed Tango. The kiss was cautious and hesitant again as the new sensation of a cock growing and pulsating against his hip was added into the mix. The voice of reason had quieted also at this new feeling. Steve braced himself on one arm, tilting his head slightly, deepening the kiss. He tried to push all hesitation out of his mind as his hand travelled down Tango’s chest. The whole experience was new. Where he expected to find a soft mound, he found flat and muscle. A rough rub of the thumb, however, over the tightening bud of the nipple still created the same reaction.

Tango moaned into Steve’s mouth as his hand explored his chest. The rough material of his t-shirt being rubbed by the warmth of Steve’s thumb across his nipple sent sparks through his nervous system. His head lolled back as the thumb came back and circled around the bud. Steve’s lips found Tango’s Adam’s apple and he jumped back slightly as it bobbed beneath his lips. “Do that again,” he whispered, licking over the protrusion.

“Do what again?” Tango moaned, his hands slowly working themselves up the back of Steve’s shirt.

“Swallow.”

Tango did as he was told and was rewarded with wet, kiss swollen lips attacking his neck. His hands moved up, taking Steve’s shirt with them. Stopping suddenly, Steve sat up, removing Tango’s hands from his shirt. Smoothing it back down over his stomach, he whispered, “We shouldn’t.”

Tango sat up on the bed, his fingers going back to dance along the hem of the t-shirt he so desperately wanted off Steve’s body. “What’s the matter?” he slurred.

Standing up, he couldn’t even look at Tango sitting on the bed. “Steve?” He stumbled his way to the door, horribly ashamed of himself. The sound of cloth hitting the ground stopped him. He turned around slowly. Tango sat on the edge of the bed, clothed only in his boxers, his thumbs shyly tucked in the elastic waistband. “Come back.”

The drop of his jaw was an involuntary reaction, as was the twitch in his pants that accompanied it. Slowly, Tango stood up and drunk stumbled his way over to Steve, trying to be sexy and failing miserably as he tripped on his own pants, landing in Steve’s arms.

Blood flushed his cheeks as his hands made contact with naked flesh. Looking down into Tango’s brown eyes, Steve got lost. He dove into the hope, the desperation, and the pure lust staring back at him as nimble fingers lifted his shirt up. Tango’s fingers were drunk warm against his chest as Steve lifted his arms, allowing the shirt to be pulled over his head. Fingertips trailed down this chest, blunt fingernails tracing through his chest hair. “You’re beautiful,” Tango whispered, his eyes soaking in the ink, noting every color, every design. He had seen them, he knew what they were, but as his fingers outlined each face, each design, he realized he had never really seen them.

Steve snorted as he watched Tango trace his tattoos.

“What?”

He knew Tango couldn’t see the crimson in his cheeks in the dark. “Beautiful?”

Tango ran his hands down Steve’s chest to his pants, ignoring how different it felt to touch another man’s body like that. “Beautiful. Handsome, sexy.” He kissed him chastely. “Since the day I met you.”

“But I…” Tango silenced him with a hard kiss. Wrapping an arm around Steve’s neck, the crook of his elbow supporting his head as Tango pushed the kiss deeper, encircling Steve’s waist with his other arm. Heartbeat on heartbeat their tongues dueled, the venue changing from one mouth to another. Steve’s self-consciousness disappeared as he felt Tango’s hips rub against his. Putting his hands on the narrow hips, he guided the younger man back towards the bed, their lips never breaking the seal. As the backs of his legs hit the mattress, Tango sat, licking a wet trail down Steve’s chest. His lips hovered where he felt the heartbeat the strongest. A flutter and a deep breath, Tango moved on. His hands went to work removing Steve’s pants and boxers.

Steve kicked off the rest of his clothing and looked down into the deep brown eyes. Licking his lips, Tango wondered what Steve would taste like. If he would be like a woman, sort of tangy and sweet. He watched as a pearl of liquid escaped the head, settling momentarily. Later he would blame it on the vodka, but Tango never resisted. His hands took hold of Steve’s hips as his tongue darted out, licking at that pearl, running his hot, wet tongue over the head of his cock. Nearly collapsing on the man below him, Steve slumped his shoulders forward, and arched his hips up towards the wonderful feeling, steadying himself with his hands on Tango’s shoulders. Lips closed over the head as the warm, wet tongue slid down the underside of his cock. Steve’s body felt like it was on fire when Tango sucked down deep, hollowing his cheeks. No woman had ever sucked his cock and made him feel like this, and Tango wasn’t even showing any style yet. His hands ran over the shaved head, watching as his cock disappeared slowly into the warm mouth.

Steve pulled Tango’s head back, lips swollen. Gently pushing him to lay down, he nudged the boxers down off Tango’s legs and threw them into the recesses of the room. Steve stopped and looked at the man laid out before him. Sweat formed on his palms and beaded on his forehead. The room temperature suddenly seemed to rise about ten degrees as Tango parted his legs slightly. The vodka coursing through Steve’s bloodstream seemed to think that fucking his male best friend was a fantastic idea and was in process of convincing his brain the same. Looking down, it appeared that his cock had been convinced a long time ago.

“What’s wrong?” Tango asked, sitting up on the bed.

“You don’t think this is weird, Tango?” Steve wondered how that thought had rattled loose and exited through his mouth.

Tango looked down at himself laying naked on the bed and up at Steve, standing naked before him, cock throbbing angrily against his stomach. “Weird? Yeah… but I…,” he looked away, trying to find the right word. Steve noticed his twitches returning and wanted to take back his question. Tango looked back at him. “I feel like its right, because it’s with you… I like experiencing new things with you, Steve.”

He laid a tentative hand on Tango’s shin. Tango laid back down, his right hand stroking his cock, staring straight into Steve’s eyes. Without thinking, Steve clumsily crawled on the bed. Tango released his cock to hold onto the tattooed arms holding up the man above him. Leaning down, stopping just short of swollen, red lips, Steve felt the need to ascertain, “I’m not gay.”

Tango pulled him down on top of him, their bodies crashing together. “I’m not either,” he mumbled back against Steve’s lips. He braced himself on his forearms above Tango, both men looking down between their bodies, as Steve started moving cock against cock. “Ow, fuck,” Tango groaned, closing his eyes in pain, wrapping his arms tight around Steve’s back.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know how…,” Steve started.

Tango silenced him with a soft kiss. He was really starting to get used to kissing Steve. “Its ok. I don’t either.”

“Okay,” he whispered, shifting his hips over slightly, thrusting once into Tango’s hip as a test. Tango’s head fell back against the pillow, fingers gripping onto the skin on his back, letting a low moan escape his lips. Steve smiled, feeling slightly triumphant. He kissed the long neck as he started to find a rhythm, grinding cock alongside cock. Steve dropped his head to Tango’s shoulder as the heated friction built up. An after thought of lube flashed through his mind, but he pushed that away for the next time. Next time?

“Steve,” Tango moaned deep in his ear. He let out a grunt that came out needier than he intended it, twisting his hips slightly and picking up speed. A steady stream of grunts and moans emanated from between them, neither sure of who created which noise. They were only aware of the heat, the heartbeats, and the motion.

Tango’s mind was on overload, registering Steve’s balls smacking against his own as their force increased. His own hips thrusting up, meeting and grinding, desperately searching for his own release. His fingers gripped too tightly into the pivoting hips. He could feel the tightness start to wind in Steve’s body, his thigh muscles clenching fiercely. Tango’s own body reacted to the impending orgasm of the man above him. Turning his head slightly, he kissed the outer shell of Steve’s ear and groaned his name.

In his peripheral vision he saw Steve’s mouth form a silent scream as his rhythm suddenly went sporadic, hot liquid pooling between them. Tango thrust twice more against the skin of Steve’s hip before adding to the pool between then, closing his eyes. Steve collapsed on his side next to Tango, resting a hand on the smaller man’s sweaty chest. A line of cum spilled off down his side as he shifted. Steve watched as it hit the sheet and got up to get a wet wash cloth. Tango smiled appreciatively as loving hands gently wiped him down.

A chaste kiss was shared between them as they settled down into the mattress. “Vodka,” Tango whispered.

“What?” Steve whispered back, wrapping an arm around his side.

“Tomorrow, we can blame it on the vodka.”

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