after.midnight // v.naked
Summary: Hunter has a birthday.
Disclaimer: The boys belong to Cowlip.
A/N: This story is all about Brian. Funny that.
Hunter turns seventeen and Brian, in a rare moment of generosity, offers the loft for the party. He regrets it thirty seconds after he does it, but he figures that the kid deserves to have it somewhere cool, since the Michael-planned party sure as hell won't be. Considering the best guest at Hunter's last party was Gus, Brian thinks it's the least he can do.
He is not, however, letting twenty irresponsible teenagers be alone in his home with only Mikey amd Emmett as chaperones. So he stays and, to make sure he has at least one person he can snark with in attendance, he makes Justin stay, too.
It's the lamest party he's ever been to, almost as bad as the ones Debbie threw for Michael on his 15th and 16th birthday. He spends five hours glaring at Hunter's friends every time one of them brings a soda near his couch or eyes his three thousand dollar stereo system. Hunter only knows one hot guy, a tall brunette with the broad-shouldered build of a swimmer and the deep, gravelly voice of a pack-a-day smoker who spends the entire time hanging on Justin's every word. He's saved from making a total ass of himself and dragging Justin away when Daphne stops by. Hunter's eyes light up like Christmas lights when he sees her and he wastes no time attaching himself to her side. Watching her ignore him is funny, but watching his attempts to hit on her is even funnier and, for about an hour, he's thoroughly
Unfortunately, it doesn't last.
When the boredom (and the three girls in the corner squealing "OHMIGOD!!!" every other second) gets to be too much, he drags Justin away from his fan club of one to the bathroom and fucks him against the shelves by the door, hoping to hell Swimmer Boy hears every moan and gasp out of Justin's mouth, and when they come out forty minutes later, he finds two kids, two straight kids, making out on his bed.
Ten minutes later, Hunter is the only teenager left on the premises.
Somehow they all end up lounging around talking about birthday parties past. He tells the story about Mikey's 15th birthday, which was only slightly better than his 16th birthday party, where half the guest list was made up of the Liberty Diner staff, Deb hired a bunch of drag queens to sing show tunes, and the cake looked like a giant Pride flag. Mikey is appropriately embarrassed and blushes four different shades of red and if he doesn't say another funny thing for the rest of the night, it's okay, because he's done his job.
Eventually the conversation drifts to what they were doing at seventeen. He doesn't remember much about seventeen, but he's sure he spent most of it getting Mikey into trouble in chemistry class, fucking and sucking his way through the soccer team, and working his ass off to save up money to get the hell out of his father's house and be on his own.
He does, however, remember every single moment of Justin at seventeen. It's only been four years, but it feels like forever and part of him can't quite believe how much they've been through or how far they've come.
Hunter pretends he's bored out of his mind, but as soon as Emmett and Michael start regaling them with a few of Justin's more memorable adventures, he's as fascinated by Justin as Brian had once been, and still is. By the time Emmett's done talking about Justin taking off for New York and them all following after him, Hunter has officially declared Justin his new hero.
It's close to two in the morning when Ben calls the loft and orders his little lost boys home. There's a flurry of hugs and kisses and see-you-laters before Emmett, Daphne, and Michael shuffle out the door, Hunter straggling behind to make plans to meet up with Justin the next day.
Everyone finally leaves and he and Justin are alone for the first time all day. The loft is quiet and dark and Justin is a warm presence by his side, constant and familiar. He's having one of those moments when he feels the need to verbally express what Justin means to him, how important he is. He knows it's just because he's spent the last hour talking about all the things Justin's done to make him pay attention, every step he's taken to get to this point, but for once he decides to go with it, to not run away.
So, when Justin slips between the sheets beside him, he pulls him close, brushes their lips together and whispers, "Wanna fuck?" And when Justin flashes him that smile, the one he reserves just for moments like this, he knows he got the message loud and clear.
Maybe they can celebrate Hunter turning seventeen again next week.