Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/605799.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Suits_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Trevor_Evans/Mike_Ross
  Character:
      Mike_Ross, Trevor_Evans
  Additional Tags:
      Recreational_Drug_Use, Shotgunning, Pre-Canon, Teenagers, First_Kiss,
      Frottage
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-12-23 Words: 2991
****** be the air in my lungs ******
by Bontaque
Summary
     One of many Christmas fics written for 2012.
     Mike and Trevor try shotgunning, which, of course, leads to more.
 When Trevor's parents go out of town for a long weekend, he knows there's only
one thing to do. He makes three phone calls and then sets his phone back on the
coffee table, smiling. It was going to be a good night. He pulls on his shoes,
checks his wallet for cash (his parents left him $60 for food but the cupboards
are full) and walks out of the door.
When he gets back, $40 lighter, he figures he has just enough time to jump in
the shower before Mike is going to arrive. He usually wouldn't bother but he
hasn't showered in a day or two and if Mike is going to sleep in the same bed
as him... well he owes it to him. So Trevor showers quickly, excitement buzzing
through him. He dries himself off, running a towel over his hair and then
wrapping it around his waist.
He hasn't seen Mike for a week, not since school let out. He hears the doorbell
ring just as he is pulling on his jeans. He grabs a t shirt, slings it over his
shoulder and runs downstairs. Mike grins when Trevor opens the door, pulling
his shirt over his head. Trevor steps aside to let Mike in and glances at the
clock. They have about half an hour to go before the pizza will arrive.
Perfect.
Trevor sees Mike's eyebrows raise when his eyes fall on the bag of weed on the
table.
“You didn't tell me you'd made preparations,” Mike says.
“I thought it would be a good surprise,” Trevor replies and Mike laughs.
“Romantic,” he says.
Trevor had considered carving an apple pipe, but he couldn't find any apples in
his kitchen.
The two of them make their way down to the basement. Trevor had dragged the
spare mattress down the night before. He drops down onto it and Mike follows,
grabbing the remote for the television off of the table. Neither of them bother
to put anything on though; they get so caught up in rolling that they forget.
They have a system. Mike preps it, places the weed in the grinder and tips it
into the paper. Trevor gets impatient and always ends up trying to roll when it
is way too tight. Mike then passes the paper to Trevor, because he's the best
at the actual rolling.
They end up with something that doesn't look too awful.
“We should roll some more,” Mike says, remembering the last time.
They both got so they lazy once they had smoked a little that they couldn't be
bothered to roll more. So they make two more joints between them before Trevor
reaches for the lighter. It's still a big deal for them, even though they try
to act cool. The first time they'd gotten high was when they went to a party,
two days after Mike turned fifteen. They'd only done it twice since. Sure, it
had only been a month or two but Trevor could see it becoming a habit between
them.
Trevor flicks his lighter open, moving it over the end of the joint as he
inhales. He sees Mike's eyes drop to his mouth as he watches, smiling. He takes
a few pulls, letting smoke flow through him before he hands it to Mike.
He watches Mike smoke, exhaling in a steady stream. He can feel the haze
unfurling inside of him and taste the smoke in the air. Mike hands him back the
last three tokes before he collapses back onto the mattress.
“Oh man...” Mike breathes, laughing at how quickly it has gone to his head.
Trevor manages not to cough as he fights a laugh. He takes the last toke,
collapsing back with Mike. They're silent for a moment, just basking in the
sensation until Trevor finally speaks.
“Wow...” he says. “My brain feels tingly.”
Because it does and there is so much he wants to say but he can't be bothered.
Like 'is there a name for the spaces between the teeth on a comb?' and 'what
does being in space taste like?'.
He resents the stereotype that getting stoned makes people think ridiculous
things, because when he gets together with Mike, stupid stuff always pops into
his mind. The weed just... increases the frequency.
The timing is perfect when the door bell rings. Mike looks worried, like he
thinks Trevor's parents might be back and that for some reason they've decided
to start ringing their own doorbell.
Trevor purposely doesn't explain because his face is priceless when he sees the
pizza box for the first time.
“More surprises?” he asks. “I don't know what you're planning, but you should
know by now that I'm not that easy.”
Trevor laughs as he sets the pizza box down on the bed and fumbles for the
remote. Mike digs straight in and Trevor flicks through the channels to try to
find something that isn't a game show or reality tv. He gives up, settling for
a rerun of Family Fortunes before taking out a slice of pizza himself.
It's hot and the cheese is melted to perfection. Mike makes a sound of intense
pleasure as he bites through the cheese in the crust. They'd decided that a
foodgasm is an entirely possible thing if the pepperoni is crispy and you're
high enough.
They're just over halfway done with the pizza when they light the second joint.
Laying back against a pillow, Trevor wipes his mouth and sets the box aside. It
was good, but it'll be better when it is cold in the morning.
They smoke the second joint together, slowly, between channel hopping and
getting comfortable. Trevor has his games consoles set aside for later. That's
the plan anyway... get high and play together, if they don't get too
preoccupied with anything else. When Mike passes the joint to him for the first
time, burnt down to halfway, Trevor grins. Mike looks, for a lack of a better
word, fucked. His eyes are half lidded and he has one of those lazy smiles that
Trevor is becoming more accustomed to seeing.
Trevor feels everything slip as he inhales. The sour taste flows down his
throat and he feels the burn in his lungs as he tries to keep the smoke in.
Mike flat out laughs when he splutters and Trevor kicks out at his legs but
misses entirely. He squeezes his eyes shut and then just snorts with laughter.
It's ridiculous how easy it can be to just have a good time with just a few
things. As long as one of those things is his best friend, it's a foolproof
formula.
The two of them relax, sliding down on the mattress, leaving the television as
background noise as they just stare at the ceiling.
“Don't you think it would be cool to do this outside?” Mike asks. “I don't
know, a night sky would look interesting, right?”
“As long as you don't try to get me to learn the names of the constellations
again,” Trevor replies and he almost hears Mike roll his eyes.
“Fine, if you want to keep thinking Venus is the North Star,” Mike mutters.
Every breath feels like it sinks Trevor further into the mattress. He doesn't
have time for astrology. Astronomy. One of those. They've both had a little too
much and they know it. They also know that there's no way that they wont smoke
the remaining joint. It's already rolled. How can they not?
So they just stay there, attempting to hold conversations and picking slices of
pepperoni off of the pizza. Mike rolls onto his side reaching over Trevor to
the box and he grins like he's thinking something. Which he almost always is.
Sure, Trevor's antics are what usually get them into trouble, but Mike comes up
with most of them. He just suggests them 'theoretically'.
“Okay, okay, so...” Mike says, moving back into a sitting position, nibbling on
a piece of pepperoni.
Trevor shifts up onto his elbows, because he knows an idea is about to be
presented and he knows he should probably pay attention.
“So... right...” Mike says blinking. “I know we should wait for a bit, because
I'm still so stoned, but do you want to try something?”
“Yeah!” Trevor says, almost automatically. “Wait, what is it? Does it involve
moving?”
Mike shakes his head.
“Well, like, we'd have to sit up, probably, but that's all.” Mike says and then
he glances at the joint. “So... you know shotgunning?”
Trevor frowns. He's pretty sure he does. He remembers someone suggesting it at
that party, swearing that it gets you high quicker but the others shot him down
instantly. Trevor had been a little curious and if it worked... well that would
be awesome.
“Yeah?” he asked. “You wanna try?”
Mike nods and then frowns at the television. People are auctioning off storage
lots and it is the sort of show that nobody ever watches on purpose, but is
hard to turn over.
“I don't understand, how could someone spend so much cash on the chance that it
might be worth it?” he asks.
Trevor shrugs.
“It's just basic gambling, right?” Trevor replies. “Except you get to see
interesting shit, too.”
He knows his curiosity could make him bid $100 for an empty storage container.
It takes another half an hour for the rest of the haze in Trevor's head to
clear. Her reaches for the lighter and the joint. Mike sits up as he does it,
looking as apprehensive as Trevor feels. He's curious, sure, but what if he
fucks up?
He lights it, inhaling as the flame dances over the end, the paper crackling.
He takes in the first part, letting it out slowly before attempting to actually
do what he was supposed to. Mike leans in closer to him as he takes the joint
away from his mouth, holding the smoke in for as long as he can before exhaling
slowly. He makes a large O with his lips, directing the smoke into Mike's open
mouth as he takes it in.
Mike's eyes flutter closed as his shoulders heave with his inhale. They repeat,
Mike's eyes locked onto Trevor's as he takes in his second breath.
Trevor can see why the guys at the party were so quick to refuse shot gunning,
it's oddly intimate and basically an inch away from making out but Trevor
really wants to see if it works.
“You feel anything?” he asks.
“Hard to tell...” Mike says. “Maybe it's supposed to get you more high? Not the
person, uh, receiving?”
Trevor tries not to laugh, but Mike's light chuckle breaks his resolve. He
passes the joint to him and Mike seems to still before taking a deep breath.
Trevor shifts forward, placing his lips as closely as he can to Mike's without
actually kissing him. He can feel the heat coming off of the blond's face as he
waits. Mike's pupils are blown wide and maybe it's the heat down in the
basement, but it looks like he's blushing.
When Mike exhales, Trevor fights to keep calm and inhale slowly, so he doesn't
choke and show himself up. He doesn't expect the smoke to burn less and
taste... just so much better. It does. Trevor sighs as he exhales and it isn't
just his own breath he's pushing out of his lungs; it's Mikes, too.
Mike grins back at him dopily and his eyes look so bright, even in the low
light. Trevor doesn't know what to think when he leans in again, to take his
second inhale and he almost kisses Mike. It's an instinctive thing, he didn't
think about it, he just suddenly felt like it was what he was supposed to do.
He inhales the thick smoke from Mike's lips, trying not to think about how soft
they look because, this close, they could be anyone's lips. This close, they
could be lips that he was allowed to kiss.
He just really wants to kiss. Anyone. Not anyone. He wants to kiss Mike. He
breathes out and then in, flooding his lungs with cooler air that doesn't taste
like desire. He doesn't pull away. Mike doesn't either.
Trevor know that he shouldn't do it but he does a lot of the things he
shouldn't. He closes the gap and it feels like much more of a leap than it has
any right to because they were already so close. He hears and he feels Mike
gasp in shock. They still don't pull away.
There is no movement for a few moments aside from the slight slide of their
lips. Trevor expected the tension to disappear, but it seems to multiply in the
pit of his stomach before they finally pull apart. He starts to apologise but
Mike just places the half smoked joint in the ashtray before grabbing Trevor's
shirt and pulling him forwards, silencing his stuttered apology with another
kiss.
It's rushed and Trevor's head is spinning as they pull apart. Everything feels
surreal and he knows that if he were sober, he wouldn't be doing this. Not that
he wants it to stop, but it would feel too real. He's scared but the feeling is
vague, numb and he wants Mike much more than he cares about the consequences.
There's a thrumming need in him that makes him just want to take. It's
connected completely to the way Mike's tongue comes out to lick his lower lip,
to the way he looks up at Trevor a little uncertainly.
“I...” Mike starts, but he never says more than that.
He shakes his head, just a little, as if he's shaking away the words in his
head before he leans forward again, pushing Trevor onto his back. The next kiss
is full of passion and it is seemingly unending. It melts into another and then
another and Mike's body is pressed against Trevor's. Mike's fingers are curled
up in Trevor's shirt, against his shoulders.
It takes Trevor a few seconds to realise that Mike is hard against him. At
first he thinks it might just be awkward positioning, a knee or a hipbone, but
then Mike shifts and he gasps at the friction. Trevor reaches up, holding onto
Mike's hips so he can press them closer together. He doesn't think about it,
doesn't even realise what he's doing when he rolls his hips, thrusting against
Mike and making them both groan.
Mike gasps against Trevor's mouth when he kisses him again and they're both
moving, rutting against each other. Trevor doesn't even know what he's doing,
he's lost in the undulating pleasure from the friction. His hands slide up
Mike's back, slipping under his shirt and roaming over his skin.
“Fuck...” Mike groans, before he's pulling away.
Trevor tries to pull him back, needing to feel him against himself and when
Mike shakes his head, his face falls in disappointment. But then Mike is
unzipping his jeans, pushing them down and crawling out of them. Trevor copies
him, kicking his jeans off awkwardly. His movements are jerky and confused, the
haze from the smoke still thick in his head but when Mike moves back on top of
him, pressing his hard cock against Trevor's own, it's like a moment of
clarity. There are only two thin layers of fabric between them and it's almost
perfection.
Mike kisses him again, hard, moving and thrusting, shuddering in Trevor's arms
with each slow drag of his hips. Trevor almost loses it when Mike bites down on
his lip, a shock of pain thrumming through him, joining the desperate need to
come.
“God, Mikey...” Trevor breaths.
He looks up at him and Mikes eyes are a bright, perfect blue. Trevor wants to
see him come, he wants to hear him groan.
Trevor grips Mike's hips hard and flips them both over, pushing Mike down into
the mattress as he kisses him and slides his hand into his underwear. Mike's
cock is slick with pre come, pulsing in Trevor's fist as he pumps it.
Mike's hips thrust up and his eyes squeeze shut. His lips are puffy and bruised
from the kissing, hanging open as he moans softly. Trevor reaches down with his
spare hand, matching his strokes on his own cock. He's so close, so fucking
close but he needs to see Mike come first.
It doesn't take long. Mike starts to babble expletives as he arches his back.
Trevor jerks him harder and Mike comes, spurting over his stomach and Trevor
thinks it might be the most beautiful sight he's ever seen.
He swaps his arms, using his right on himself, feeling Mike's come slide over
his own cock and he loses it. He wouldn't have been able to hold off if he'd
wanted to. Mike chuckles quietly when Trevor groans and shoots over Mike's
chest.
Trevor collapses back onto the mattress, chest heaving and there is silence.
It's awkward and it is never awkward between him and Mike. Panic starts to set
in, so he speaks.
“So... what now?” he asks.
Mike doesn't answer for a few moments and at first Trevor thinks he's asleep.
“Well we've still got pizza, right?” Mike asks.
He looks over to Trevor, grinning dopily. He doesn't look mad, but then it
strikes Trevor that he has no reason to be.
“So you're okay?” he asks.
“Yeah,” Mike says. “Well, I could use a shower but yeah.”
“Uh... you want one now?” Trevor asks.
Mike shakes his head and closes his eyes.
“No, no, I'm kinda tired,” Mike says, stretching his legs. “I don't want to
move.”
Mike pulls Trevor closer to him, snuggling into his shoulder and Trevor closes
his eyes, getting comfortable.
“Maybe when we wake up we could shower together, though,” Mike says.
Trevor can hear the smile in his voice and he chuckles lightly before drifting
off to sleep.
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