Chapter Text
”I’m so fucking tired, bro,” Tommy whined, his head leaning on Määnin’s shoulder.
It was only a little past eleven pm, but with five days of band practice in a row (and plenty of partying and drinking), he could feel himself getting worn out. Another band from their label, the mainstream successful humour/pop group were having their biggest concert ever in just a few months. For some forsaken reason, they wanted Vörjeans there for it as a half-time act. Tommy had no idea why, they had always been very clear in their distaste for those guys. But whatever.
Määnin shifted his weight on the sofa cushions that he was sitting on in Tommy’s small one bedroom apartment. His arm pulled out from underneath Tommy’s weight and draped around him instead.
“I know, man. Me too.”
His breath stunk of beer. It always did. His body felt warm against Tommy’s. Almost like a blanket. If Tommy were to close his eyes for just a second too long, he’d be asleep in his arms.
Tommy didn’t have a girlfriend, neither did Määnin. They didn’t talk much about those kinds of things, apart from Määnin occasionally bragging about his newest one night stand. He always liked showing off his hickeys. Something about it made Tommy’s stomach turn and his cheeks lit up, but he chose not to dwell on it. An empty case of Lapinkulta was thrown somewhere on his floor, and a half full one laid on his coffee table along with Määnin’s glasses. The buzz of alcohol flowed through Tommy’s body, his blood so warm he felt like he was bursting.
They didn’t always drink alone like this. Usually they were with the rest of the band, or at a bar, or a house party. Nights like this felt more personal.
Määnin stroked his shoulder in soft, small circular motions. It felt a bit gay, but Tommy was too exhausted to care. He burrowed his face in Määnin’s chest instead, letting himself fully relax and ease into it. He needed a break, and who was he to tell Määnin what he could or could not do?
The careful out-of-character for “The Toughest Guy In Vörå” touches continued down his arms until his hand was rubbing at Tommy’s wrist, massaging it. It almost tickled with how thin and sensitive his skin was there. He whined a little, and then proceeded to blush furiously at himself.
“Sorry, Toms. Didn’t mean to tickle ya,” Määnin chuckled and moved his hand away. Tommy wished he hadn’t.
His hand settled on Tommy’s thigh instead. He just held it there, no more stroking or rubbing. Only a steady, firm grip, his body now completely enveloped in Määnin’s hug. A much worse option for a personal problem he was having.
For months now, Tommy had been waking up sweaty and disheveled with vague memories of Määnin in his dreams. He knew he was wrong for it, but the visions wouldn’t leave him alone. At practice, he would constantly get distracted by the way Määnin’s fingers moved, the little hmmph sounds he made. Tommy’s mind involuntarily twisted them into something perverse, leading him to multiple times having to walk outside to breathe midway through songs. This problem was negatively affecting the band, he knew it, but he had no idea how to stop it.
And Määnin, the stupid, attractive madman that he was, seemed completely oblivious.
Tommy was drunk. If he weren't, he would have been reasonable enough to get the fuck up and go to sleep in his own bed instead of letting Määnin unknowingly give him an erection. But Tommy had never been a smart man. The smell of Määnin’s musky shirt as his face pressed into it was just too inviting.
“Goddamn,” Määnin laughed, his breath so close to Tommy’s face that he could feel the warmth from it. “Are you hard, Tom?”
The acknowledgment of what Tommy was already suspecting jolted him awake, any traces of slumber gone from his eyes as he bolted up out of Määnin’s grasp.
“No! I’m fucking not, definitely not.” His cheeks were bright red, he turned away so he didn’t have to face him. He was doing absolutely nothing to help how suspicious he looked.
“Right, bro. Then turn to look at me and say that again.”
His tone was amused, not angry. Tommy wanted to kick him out of his flat and never see him again (but of course, not really, he loved that man, he wouldn’t be able to live without him).
“No.” Tommy remained still.
“Yes, you will,” Määnin commanded, his voice lowered, all raspy.
God, Tommy hated himself for how much he liked the sound of him, especially when he was being so firm. His problem wasn’t going away in any near future.
He shook his head violently.
He heard Määnin rise up from the couch, he felt the weight of him standing right behind him on the wooden flooring. Määnin grabbed his waist and in a quick, harsh motion, he was flipped around. Everything completely on show.
“I—“ Tommy began. No, I’m not into you like that, it’s just my dick’s involuntary reaction to you basically stroking my body? He was going to sound insane any way he tried to explain it. He was going to sound gay whatever he did.
“I’m not mad at you, man,” Määnin began laughing, “sit back down. I’ll help you out, if you wanna.”
“What?!”
“We’re both drunk as hell and exhausted, I’ll suck you off and then we’ll go to sleep, sound good?” He smiled, his eyes sparkled with something unreadable.
“The fuck are you suggesting?” Tommy needed to know if he was serious, or if he was just fucking with him. He was already embarrassed enough, did Määnin really need to humiliate him further?
“If you don’t want me to, you can just go fix that yourself. I’m just trynna be a good friend to my best buddy of a decade, dude.” He shrugged as if it was the most natural, normal idea any one had ever had. It was not.
Tommy’s brain was going haywire, still trying to figure out if he was just playing some elaborate prank that involved trying to figure out just how much of a pathetic homosexual Tommy was.
He nodded hesitantly.
“Right..?”
“That a yes, Tommy?” His grin was wide, all sleazy and gross. Just the way Tommy liked him.
This was just a friend thing. A totally normal friend thing. He had to at least try to act normal about it, too.
“Whatever.” He tried his best to be nonchalant about it.
Määnin shoved him down onto the couch, laughing at Tommy’s shock as he stumbled.
“Have you… before?” Tommy asked, far too embarrassed over the whole situation to get his words out.
“Yeah,” he chuckled softly as he unzipped Tommy’s fly.
Right. So Määnin was a man that sucked dick. That was fine. This was fine. Why hadn’t he been told this before? Then again, that was Määnin’s own business. He shouldn’t pry. He shouldn’t get jealous. He shouldn’t be thinking about who or when or where. Maybe in some filthy alleyway, or the bathroom stalls of a bar after a gig…
He whined as Määnin pulled him out of his underwear, cool air meeting his dick. All his thoughts came to a halt. Määnin’s own nonchalant expression seemed to falter for a second as he took in the size of Tommy.
He felt a bit proud of that, as if he held any power over him for just a moment. He knew that he was wrong, of course. No one could out-man Määnin, no matter the size of his cock.
He squeezed his eyes shut the moment Määnin began stroking him. He couldn’t watch, as much as he wanted to. With the thought he had been having for so long, looking Määnin in the eyes as he got him off wouldn’t help him in any way to get over his pathetic infatuation with him. Määnin was just doing this as a bro-thing. No feelings attached.
He had to be cool, too.
Määnin’s tongue slid over his tip as one hand stroked his base. It had been far too long since Tommy got sucked off, and never before had it been by another guy. He hadn’t even really thought of that as an option, especially not in any of the conservative towns they usually cruised around in. Getting a blowjob by his best friend was definitely not something he thought would be possible either. All the sensations were heightened by his drunken state.
He opened his eyelids the slightest bit, just to catch a glimpse of Määnin’s face. Just a peak is fine, right? Tommy was far too weak to resist it. The man beneath him was staring right up at him, eyes locked on his mouth. Those big, beautiful blue eyes widened as he realised Tommy was looking back at him. He smiled and opened his mouth fully, taking him in.
Tommy moaned immediately. He bit down on his hand to stop himself from letting out any more embarrassing noises as Määnin moved further down.
He was definitely experienced, there was no denying that.
With his free hand Määnin massaged Tommy’s thigh. He felt like he was transcending, as Määnin kept bobbing his head up and down on him. Tommy wanted to touch him, hold his head still, or just feel how soft his hair was for himself. He looked so soft.
He let go of his hand from his mouth and nestled it into Määnin’s mullet instead. Määnin had talked about cutting it for so long, but never seemed motivated to actually do it. Right now, Tommy didn’t mind the length of it. More to hold onto. Määnin hummed around him as Tommy gently pulled him off.
“Fuck, dude,” he whined as Määnin licked his lips. “You’re like… Real fucking good.”
“Just helping a bro out.” He grinned, looking all proud. Tommy’s head was spinning.
As Määnin continued blowing him, massaging his thighs, Tommy felt the heat pool in his stomach.
“I won’t last long,” he whispered, ashamed of how close he already was. Määnin pulled off him with an obscene pop sound, mouth still so close to him that he could feel his breath, and laughed.
“Come in my mouth then, Tommy.”
He dove straight back down before Tommy had any chance of responding with anything other than a moan, his fingers tangled deeper into his hair as Määnin sucked with all he had in him, tongue occasionally lapping over the slit of his tip. He was losing his mind. Never did Tommy think any of his wet dream fantasies would come to life, especially not with such a high skill level from Määnin.
He knew this was a one-off thing, that there was no way he would ever get to do this with Määnin again. Määnin was way out of his league, they were both just drunk and too tired to realise it. He wished deeply he was sober so he could be more present for it. Although he knew Määnin would never do any of this shit sober, he barely told him he liked him as a friend when he wasn't drunk.
He pushed Määnin’s head down almost violently as all his thoughts got interrupted by the all too familiar sensation building up. He held him there, stuttering in his mouth as he came inside of him. Määnin’s pupils were blown up, he assumed his own were too. He squeezed his eyes shut again as he gently rocked in and out of him, riding out the last part of his orgasm.
When he finally opened his eyes and pulled out, a string of cum leaked out of Määnin’s mouth. The sight of it alone was far too much for Tommy to handle, he deeply wished he had kept his eyes shut. Määnin smiled so hard it reached his eyes and swallowed.
There was an instinct inside of Tommy, to pull Määnin up in his lap and kiss him. To lick away the cum painting his chin. But he knew better.
“That…” He began. He needed to thank him properly, but he had no idea what would be appropriate. What did Määnin even want from him? “Was real good. You’re real good.”
“You already said that,” he laughed, “but ‘s cool, anything for a friend,” he slurred.
Right. A friend. That’s all. This wasn’t anything special. And he was just drunk. Like always.
“I’m gonna call a taxi,” he mumbled and fumbled with his phone to get it out of his pocket. “If I tried to drive home I’d fucking crash and kill myself.”
Tommy wanted to tell him to stay. That he could sleep in his bed with him, or on the couch, that he shouldn’t leave. That he wanted him there in all ways it meant, not just like a friend. But he didn’t. He nodded and tucked himself into his underwear again.
“Right. Sounds fair.”
The alcohol inside his body made it easy to fall asleep, despite all he should be worrying about. But when Tommy woke up, hungover as all hell with the worst type of headache he knew, a pit of anxiety was growing in his stomach.
He checked his phone to see if Määnin had texted him anything, but of course he hadn’t. All he saw was a message from Freppa reminding him of when their next show was. He buried his head in his pillow and tried to forget everything, but once that door had been opened, there was no going back.