Table Of ContentExperimental Repeatability | Elinor Gray
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Experimental Repeatability
A WALK across campus to Luke’s dorm doesn’t seem so
appealing at two in the morning, especially not when he has
Eric tucked up against his side, an arm around his waist,
while the two of them stumble their way to Eric’s room.
They’re both drunk, celebrating the end of finals with their
friends and the last of the terrible, cheap liquor left over, and
Luke’s head is swimming. He’s not sure if he could make it
all the way there anyway.
Eric buzzes them into his dorm and they take the stairs
carefully, one at a time, still practically glued together. Eric
smells so good, clean and familiar, and Luke risks putting
his nose to the top of his head, just for an instant.
“Just stay over,” Eric says, opening his door.
Luke doesn’t argue. He shucks his jeans and rolls into
Eric’s bed, the extended invitation implied. They’ve done this
before, slept in each other’s beds, but Luke shouldn’t do it
now, not when he’s weak, and Eric is all sweet and cuddly
and talkative. Eric’s also embarrassed in the mornings when
he remembers all the sappy shit he reveals, but Luke tucks
it all away and cherishes every silly detail.
Luke may be slightly in love with his best friend.
Possibly.
Eric climbs in after him and squirms to get comfortable,
pulling his duvet over them both. He rolls onto his side and
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Luke gives in to the impulse to snuggle up behind him and
tuck an arm around his middle.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Eric murmurs in the darkness.
“I’ve been kinda lonely lately.”
“What?” Luke asks, lips almost pressed against the back
of Eric’s neck. Eric’s voice is soft and warm, and it rolls over
Luke like Irish Cream, spiking in his blood. He’s too hot
suddenly, palms sweating, but he doesn’t move. He’ll take
what he can get, even if he’s going to regret it in the morning
when he wakes up with Eric’s arm draped over his chest and
no feeling behind it. They’re best friends: Luke can’t ask for
more than that.
“I dunno,” Eric says, shifting, touching Luke’s hand.
“Since Alex and I broke up, I just. I mean, I’m fine. I’m good.
Sometimes I just miss doing stuff with someone I love. You
know, stupid stuff.”
“Yeah,” Luke agrees, closing his eyes. Alex and Eric have
been broken up for months, and Eric was the one who did
the breaking, but he gets melancholy sometimes—mostly
when he’s intoxicated. Luke presses his cheek against the
back of Eric’s shoulder.
“And I’m fucking horny,” Eric says, laughing suddenly.
“I’m really horny right now, and you’re here, and that’s
not….”
“Not what?” Luke asks. He’d be lying if he wasn’t feeling
the same way. He’s been taking advantage of Eric’s
intoxication all night, putting himself in Eric’s line of sight,
getting in his way, accepting his hugs and nuzzling and
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wandering hands. Normally he can go home and jerk off on
his own thinking about the pressure of Eric’s body, but now
he’s lying behind Eric like a boyfriend would, half hard in his
boxers while Eric talks about getting off.
“Not really a favor I can ask you,” Eric says. He laughs
again, his ribs shaking under Luke’s arm. Luke gives him a
little squeeze, and Eric says, “Like, ‘hey Luke, mind if I jerk
off real quick? It’ll just take a minute.’”
“No,” Luke says.
“Right,” Eric says.
“No,” Luke says again, “I mean, I don’t mind.”
There’s a pause. Eric shifts, trying to look over his
shoulder. Luke hides his face against Eric’s T-shirt. He didn’t
mean to say that aloud.
“You don’t?”
“No,” Luke admits. In for a penny.
“Huh,” Eric says. And then he says, “Okay then,” and
Luke feels his arm move. He can feel Eric rucking up his T-
shirt and sliding his hand into his boxers, and instead of
moving away and giving Eric some space, he spreads his
palm wide on Eric’s chest and presses a soft kiss to the back
of his neck. Eric says, “Oh,” like he’s surprised, and so Luke
does it again.
Luke’s all the way hard now, and he rocks his hips
against Eric’s ass slowly, testing. Eric lets out a breath and
lifts his leg up, hooking his foot behind Luke’s knee and
pulling him closer. Christ, this is so not how Luke expected
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this night to go. He kisses Eric’s neck again, opens his
mouth against Eric’s skin, and Eric shifts his weight to
spread his legs, head tipping back. Luke can feel the pull of
the blanket over them that means Eric’s touching himself,
and the minute roll of Eric’s hips that has him rocking
against Luke at the same time.
Luke bites him slowly, sinking his teeth gently into his
shoulder, and Eric lets out a little broken moan. Luke kisses
the spot, soothes the bite-mark, moving like he’s in a dream.
His hand is heavy against Eric’s chest, weighing down the
quickening rise-and-fall, and he finds his way to one tight
nipple, teasing it through Eric’s T-shirt while Eric gasps his
name.
Yes, he wants that, perfect. Luke rubs a little harder,
bites again, and rubs his erection against Eric’s thigh. Eric
squirms, panting, and his arm is moving faster. Luke wants
to get his hands on bare skin, so he slides his hand down,
intending to go up under Eric’s shirt. Eric says, “Yeah, do it,”
and lets go of himself, pulling his hand out of his boxers.
“What?” Luke asks.
“Touch me,” Eric says, pushing Luke’s hand down,
“C’mon, just—unh, yes.” Luke cups him outside his shorts
first, feeling the weight and girth of his cock, and rides a
shudder of pleasure that rolls through him from the top of
his head to the tip of his dick. Eric is thick and stiff and fits
just right in Luke’s hand, and Luke has to muffle a groan
against the back of his neck. Then Eric says, “Wait, here—”
and takes Luke’s hand in his again. He brings it up to the
level of his face and licks, from the heel to the tip of Luke’s
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middle finger. He guides Luke’s hand into his shorts and
wraps it around his dick, while Luke tries to collect enough
brain cells to stop this from happening.
Eric’s cock is hot to the touch, and leaking over Luke’s
fingers. Eric squirms his way out of his boxers and hitches
up his knee a little farther, laying himself wide open for
Luke. He reaches back and mashes Luke’s mouth against
his shoulder again when Luke starts to stroke him,
breathing hard. Luke works his way from root to tip slowly,
gives a little twist at the end that makes Eric jerk in his
arms, and he rocks his hips against Eric’s ass.
“Faster,” Eric demands, breathless, gripping Luke’s hair.
“I like it faster.”
Luke obeys, jacking him faster, squeezing tighter, the
length of Eric’s cock throbbing in his grip. He grinds tight
and hard against Eric’s ass, rubbing his dick between Eric’s
cheeks, and Eric moans and wiggles and fucks Luke’s fist,
his hips working in a counterpoint to Luke’s.
“Oh God, yeah,” Eric says, barely louder than the sound
of the blanket shifting and the bed starting to squeak. “Oh
God. Luke.”
“Yeah,” Luke agrees, mindless. He’s riding a wave of
want and yes, humping Eric and jerking him off, almost
unable to believe this isn’t another fantasy. He’d be kissing
Eric if he had his way, but he’ll settle for the nape of his
neck instead, sucking and kissing and biting, making Eric
turn his head back and forth, offering himself to him.
Luke can feel him getting close, can feel the way his
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body tenses and his breath comes faster. He can feel the
surging of Eric’s hips, rising and rising, and the tightening
grip Eric has on his hair. He can hear him gasping Luke’s
name, pleading, encouraging, and smell the thick, sharp
scent of his pre-come. Luke’s going to come, he realizes,
rocking desperately against Eric’s ass, and he has to get Eric
there before he does. He presses his mouth to Eric’s ear and
says, “You’re fucking gorgeous,” and Eric gasps and arches
hard. His cock goes stiff in Luke’s fingers, and then he’s
shuddering and coming, spurting over Luke’s hand,
smearing wet spunk across his belly and the blanket. Luke
can barely keep it together long enough to see him through
it, and then he grabs Eric’s hips and fucks against him once,
twice more before he comes too, shooting in his boxers. He
presses his forehead to the middle of Eric’s back, gasping,
helpless in the face of his orgasm.
Eric cards his fingers through Luke’s hair as he comes
down. When Luke lifts his head and shifts his hips away,
sticky with jizz, Eric half-turns and catches his mouth in a
kiss.
For a second, Luke doesn’t know what the hell to do.
This right here counts as their first kiss, and he’s too
stunned to participate. But Eric doesn’t pull away, just
presses them together a little more firmly, and Luke parts
his lips and kisses back. He’s hazy with alcohol and an
unexpected orgasm, but he needs to remember this. He
wants to make it last.
Eventually, Eric smiles against his mouth and pulls
away, and Luke can see him in the dark now, blinking
sleepily.
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“Thanks,” Eric says, closing his eyes.
“Um. Sure.” Luke isn’t sure how better to reply. He
wipes his hand on the sheets and tucks it back under Eric’s
ribs. Eric lays his arm over Luke’s and settles down,
probably already half-asleep.
They’ll have to talk about this in the morning, Luke
thinks, pressing another careful kiss to Eric’s neck. But he’ll
worry about that then.
LUKE wakes draped over Eric’s back, nose in the crook of his
neck, legs twined with Eric’s under the covers. He’s confused
for a second, disoriented, and then he’s jolted all the way
awake by the memory of what they’d gotten up to last night.
His boxers are glued to his body with his own come and Eric
is naked from the ribs down, his bare ass getting awfully
cozy with Luke’s morning wood.
Luke is fucked.
Eric stirs, murmurs something into the pillow, and
takes a deep breath. Luke starts to pull away carefully, not
too obviously, not so fast that Eric will know something is
wrong. Maybe he doesn’t remember—he was drunker than
Luke was. Wasn’t he?
“Hng,” Eric says, and opens his eyes. “Hey.” His smile is
sleepy and sweet, and Luke gets another flash of memory—
Eric kissed him last night. Eric kissed him, and he might not
remember that either. “Y’wanna eat?” Eric asks, as if that’s
more important than the crisis Luke is having right now.
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“Yeah,” Luke says, “just lemme—I’m gonna shower
really quick.”
Eric wrinkles his nose in displeasure at being disturbed
for something so trivial, but he lies still while Luke clambers
awkwardly out of bed. Luke tries not to draw too much
attention to the fact that Eric is mostly naked, but Eric just
pushes his face back into his pillow and waves a hand at
Luke.
“Don’t take forever,” Eric says. “I’m starving.”
Luke gathers his jeans from the floor, steals Eric’s towel,
and makes a beeline for the bathroom. It’s empty, no shit, at
9 a.m. on a Saturday morning. The water comes out chilly
but it warms up fast, and Luke tries to wash off the residue
of this disaster as quickly as he can. He has to act like
nothing happened. He cannot have allowed himself to ruin
their friendship just because he was horny and hammered.
He stands too long under the water, eyes squeezed shut,
his heart pounding in his chest. His throat feels tight, and
the nausea roiling in his stomach isn’t from the liver damage
he’s trying to inflict on himself. He has to get it together. He’s
going home for the summer, hundreds of miles from here;
escaping this situation might be as easy as that.
When he turns the water off, the bathroom is
uncomfortably silent, like it’s listening to him panic. He dries
off with Eric’s towel and puts his shirt and jeans from last
night back on, throwing his come-stiff boxers in the
bathroom trash. No way is he keeping them.
“Oh,” Eric says, surprised, when he opens up Eric’s
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door again. “You’re back already. Hey.” Eric is half-dressed,
unbuttoned pants hanging low on his hips, T-shirt on his
arms but not over his head yet. He tugs it on and zips
himself up. “I was gonna—never mind. You hungry?”
“Starving,” Luke says, tossing Eric the towel and
scrubbing a hand through his still-damp hair. “I’ll text Danni
and Megan.”
“Wait,” Eric says, but Luke is already turning away,
snatching Eric’s phone off his dresser and composing a text
message to summon their friends to breakfast. He keeps his
eyes on it, intent, and ignores the way Eric is looking at him
as he closes the door behind himself and tucks his wallet
into his pocket. He’s wearing his favorite jeans, a pair Luke
bought him one year as a joke, a thrift store find, but they fit
him perfectly, hugging his ass and thighs, and long enough
he doesn’t have to tug them down when he sits. Eric’s a tall
guy, and finding jeans for his inseam that also fit his narrow
hips isn’t as easy as it seems.
Luke hands Eric his phone back when he’s done with it,
avoids letting their fingers brush, and jams his hands in his
pockets. His jeans are chafing a little without the protection
of his boxers, and it just makes every memory of last night
brighter. Eric’s mouth against his, the heat of Eric’s skin
under his fingers, the hardness of Eric’s cock in his hand.
He tries to push the thoughts away, but then he’s thinking of
Eric’s ass against his dick, and Eric’s hand in his hair. Shit,
he is so stupid.
Eric doesn’t say anything on the walk to the dining hall,
but he keeps getting in Luke’s space, stepping too close to
