Two Years Ago - Coliver [HTGAWM]

@nycswiftie wanted ass eating and tie-pulling and who am I to say no to that? (especially when I inspired the tie-pulling)? Consider that your smut warning.

inspired by: “my boyfriend was telling me about the time he drunkenly ate some guys ass when he was at a party before we started dating and i said “thats weird, i got my ass ate at a party and i can’t remember who the guy was” turns out we went to the same party, and he was the dude that ate my ass. my boyfriend ate my ass 2 years before we started dating”

AO3

“So was I good?” They each had a whiskey in hand, and there were several empty shot glasses lined up in front of them. The next day was going to be their first shared night off in a long time, and they were seizing the opportunity to relax. Which meant trading drinks in their home while ‘watching’ the trashiest shows Netflix could offer. Connor wasn’t nearly as tipsy as Oliver - actually, Oliver was probably well on his way to being full-on drunk.

“Good at what?” Ollie slurred, tipping over. His cheek ended up on Connor’s shoulder, breath warm across the man’s jaw. He looked like a mess but in the best way possible, cheeks and nose flushed, eyes half closed and tie messy and loose around his shirt. He even had a few buttons undone.

“Eating your ass,” Connor replied easily. Ollie looked almost offended for all of two seconds before he burst out a giggle.

“Yeah?…I guess. I don’t exactly have a lot of…experience in receiving that…” He finally admitted. That was a shame - no wonder Oliver had reacted as much as he had during their first interaction. Connor felt sorry for all of the other men in the world who had missed out on the opportunity. “Was that your first time doing it?” It felt like ages ago that he had first been pressed into the mattress. He still found it hard to believe Connor had done that to him on their first night together. He was also impressed - not that he was going to admit to that. Ever.

“No way.” Connor replied before swigging down the rest of his glass and clunking it onto the table. He wrapped an arm around Oliver’s shoulders to pull him in closer. “I’ve done that a few times. But only for the guys I’m really, really into. It’s not something you just shoot for, you know? Like. You gotta be able to tell the guy is gonna be into it…” He tickled his fingers along Ollie’s collar bone which made the man’s muscles jump.

“What does that mean?” Oliver asked, narrowing his eyes as he tried to work it out in his mind. Was Connor saying he looked like the type to enjoy having a tongue in his ass? How did someone even look like that? There were too many questions for his addled mind to process.

“It’s not a bad thing!” Connor said quickly. “I’m good at reading people sexually. That’s all.” Oliver really should have expected such an egotistical comment. They had been together long enough that when it came to discussions such as these there were bound to be an abundance of them.

“Anyway. There’s this one time I remember really well. I was at this party. Towards the end of college? And there was this guy. I don’t remember him so much. He was probably a little too generic, right? Just some twink at a party or whatever. But. He took it so well. Almost as good as you.” Connor teased Oliver with a pinch to the side, which earned him an pillow to the face. Or it would have been if Oliver hadn’t completely missed and hit the couch right beside his ear.

“So like. He’s kind of a wallflower. This guy. And I had him against the wall with a few well placed lines. He totally fell for it. Or maybe he just wanted some really bad. He looked like he was the type to not get it on enough. But. Anyway. I get him against the wall, and he’s shaking and he’s really adorable in a nerdy way? And he’s trying to get on his knees for me but I really wanted it to last that night. With this guy. So I kept him up, told him to go to the host’s bedroom. I don’t even know how he got into the party, actually. He definitely wasn’t in my classes. I argued with those assholes enough to know.” Connor was regaling the story to Oliver in the way that drunk people often did. Too many details and a try-hard approach to explanations. Oliver didn’t mind though, he was lulled by the timbre of his boyfriend’s voice and only half paying attention, picking up on the good parts.

“So this guy goes. Like he just. Does what I tell him to without questioning me or anything. It was kind of awesome? And we get back to the bedroom and he’s laying on his back, just looking at me. Like he was waiting for me to tell him what to do. And I just knew then. I knew he’d be totally into it, you know? He probably never had it like that before. So I tell him to roll over and he’s on his belly in seconds, like he’s just eager to get a cock in his ass or something.”

For some reason this sounds familiar, in a hazy kind of way. Like watching a movie unfold but knowing what’s going to happen just seconds before it takes place. Only to find out it was a movie watched years ago but only once and tossed aside by the brain as being irrelevant in the long run. Oliver licks over his lips and struggles to chase down the reason. “So I go for it. No warning. I just get my face close and lick a long line between his cheeks, and he loses his damn mind. I barely even had to push my tongue in before he was humping the mattress. It was hot, man.” Why does Connor start speaking like he’s in a fraternity? Is it on purpose? Has he done it to be ironic and lost all control? Oliver shakes his head and goes back to concentrating on the real issue. Why can he fell the phantom drag of a messy tongue over his ass? It’s a different kind than what Connor’s recently given him. Less skilled.

“It only took him like. Five minutes to come. If that, even. I didn’t even have to touch his cock. And he got all embarrassed and everything? Thought I’d be mad, I think. But I just kissed him until he shut up. Fucked him twice after that, too. He only got off on the second time but shit. That was a fun night.” Connor stretched his arms up and sat straight so he could crack his neck. When he looked at Oliver the man was wide-eyed, mouth open.

He remembered. His friend had been in town, and was dating a younger girl who was graduating that month. There was a big party that was some big, notorious college party going on, and both of them had been determined to get Oliver to go out with them. Throwing every possible card they had at their friend. He had been out of college for a few years by then, and had established a job for himself. After that night he had used his very first sick day.

He had hooked up with a guy that night. The first one since his most recent break-up. The man had been hot and Oliver had been convinced he was shit-faced, since he had chosen Oliver to fuck, for some reason. Ollie had been drunk enough to get a little slutty and had definitely not been able to turn down a guy as hot as that stranger.

The stranger who shared a face with Connor.

The stranger who was Connor.

“Ollie?” He snapped out of his epiphany to see double Connor’s coming to focus into one. It sounded like the man had been saying his name for a while.

“It was me.” Oliver said suddenly, shaking his head as he said it because he couldn’t believe it. “The guy was me. You ate my ass when you were in college.” Connor stared at him for a long second and then snorted, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah. Okay, drunky. Maybe we should get you into bed before you fall off the couch.”

“Connor! I’m serious! I find it hard to believe, too, because how could I forget you? But I was really messed up that night! I remember now. Clearly. Trust me - I was the one with your tongue in my ass! It was you.” Oliver sounded so certain and looked so determined that Connor felt his throat go dry. It took him a second to sort through the moments but when he put Oliver’s face to the generic man of his memories? It all clicked, and he knew that Oliver was right.

“Holy. Shit.” Connor said. “Are you telling me I ate your ass two years ago? Two years before I even. Like. Actually met you?”

They were both silent for a long while as they tried to let the idea settle in.

“So…” When Oliver saw the shit-eating grin on Connor’s face he knew the man was latching onto something terrifying. “How do I compare? Have I gotten any better?” Oliver almost rolled his eyes but then he had an idea and stopped himself, choosing to look contemplative instead.

“Well…I’ve never really thought about it. I’m just now remembering, after all…up until now I’ve never had anything to compare it to. So I can’t say.” He shrugged and gave Connor an apologetic look, but there was something in his eyes that was distinctly anything but. Connor smirked and slowly rolled to stand up, bracing one hand on the back of the couch next to Oliver’s head.

“Guess I’ll have to give you something to compare it to, won’t I?” He breathed, pretending he had fallen for Oliver’s conniving comments. Connor had been wrapping the silk of Ollie’s tie around his hand as he spoke, the other man oblivious because he was too busy thinking about what was coming and caught up in Connor’s eyes. When Connor yanked hard on the cloth? A broken, choked off whimper escaped Oliver and he could see the exact moment Oliver’s glazed over with nothing but lust left in them. The man’s plans obviously thwarted because Connor was always able to jump one step ahead.

“Come on,” Connor spoke the words against Oliver’s lips and twisted the tie just a touch too tight. He pulled until Ollie had no other choice but to stand - not that he was going to fight. Connor led him backwards to their bedroom and turned just before they hit the bed, shoving Oliver down and letting the cloth unravel as he fell. For a second Connor drank in the scene, teetering where he stood. Then he gave in and went down on his knees next to Oliver. He pulled at the knot of Oliver’s tie until the cloth came loose, then held it up with a raised eyebrow.

Oliver wasn’t so sure he liked seeing the gears turn in his boyfriend’s head.

Connor didn’t even ask, or order, Oliver to turn over. He did it himself, groping Oliver’s sides until he was shoved face-down into the mattress, resting over his knees. Connor grabbed his hands and pulled them behind his back, then bent over the curl of Ollie’s body. “I bet you I’m ten times better than I was back then. Two years is a long time to practice.” Oliver could feel the smugness radiating off of Connor and the brush of his lips at the shell of Oliver’s ear made the man shiver. “Stay in that position and get out of your clothes.”

Oliver did as he was told, only breaking the moment to strip down before he went right back into the pose. He even placed his hands behind his back so that they rested, crossed, just above his ass. Connor had divested himself this clothing as well, and when he saw that Oliver had went right back to the original placement? Connor smirked, grabbing Ollie’s wrists and knotting them up in the soft fabric of his tie. They had been getting a lot of mistreatment lately. Connor had been pulling on them for weeks, yanking them free of their proper folds and making Oliver look a little more messy than he normally did when he went in for work.

The hickeys kind of gave him away as well.

“Now you can’t touch yourself. And you can’t rub off against the mattress. So let’s see how long it takes you to get there when it’s just my tongue. Let’s say…if you last longer than ten minutes? Then I haven’t gotten better. And that’s just being nice because of the booze and your age.” Connor nipped hard at one of Oliver’s asscheeks, making him jump and leaving behind a red mark that would purple.

Oliver didn’t stand a chance. As soon as he felt Connor circling his hole with the tip of his tongue he knew he was done for. Connor really had only gotten better - and that shouldn’t have been surprising as it was. But Oliver didn’t take a lot of time to thinking about the finesse of a rim job of just how much fine-tuning the skills would feel so much better. Connor pulled back after drawing circles around him, suddenly flicking his tongue before laying it flat over him, and he cried out. His cock was throbbing, leaking against his thighs. Oliver couldn’t even think.

When Connor slowly pushed his way inside and pushed his tongue in so that it fattened - Oliver had to muffle his yelp into the pillow. The tug of his wrists as he tried to fight against the bind only made it feel that much better, his stomach blooming with heat and his pulse thumping above his right eye. Oliver tried to jerk himself flat against his thighs but it didn’t help, there just wasn’t enough friction to actually help. He keened miserably, tightening his fingers around the tie.

Connor started to really fuck him with his tongue then, not teasing or taking time to taste. What he was doing was selfish, taking what he wanted - which was Oliver getting off. He was going to get him to come before those ten minutes were up, on his tongue alone. It wasn’t the kind of movement that rocked the bed, but the almost gentle feel of it was torture all on it’s own. “Connor,” Oliver broke, begging, lips parted against the pillow. “Connor, please,” Oliver gasped.

The man didn’t pull away or relent for even a second. When he did slow down? It was just to tease Oliver, and make it feel ten times better when he finally picked up the pace again. Sometimes Connor would pull away entirely only to unexpectedly lick a long stripe over Oliver’s hole, or tip nip painfully hard at the insides of Oliver’s thighs.

When Connor lifted a hand and pressed it to the back of Oliver’s neck, holding Ollie down as he plunged his tongue deep into him and twisted it to the side, that was it. Oliver came with Connor’s name on his lips, his whole body shaking as more was pulled out of him because Connor was relentless and wouldn’t stop. Finally Connor pulled back when Oliver’s body sagged, his breaths ragged. The man rubbed his mouth with the back of his wrist to his hand before he dropped his arm down. “Four minutes and thirty-four seconds,” he announced after fumbling for his phone.

“You put your timer on!?” Oliver squawked as he looked back, still trembling all over. The orgasm had been amazing but it also felt incomplete. Like he could go again, but it would take some effort to get him hard again. Connor was distracting in the pull of Oliver’s muscles, the movement he had made causing his arms to strain, showing tendons and lines that had Connor aching. “When did you even have time to do that?” Oliver panted before dropping his face back into the pillows.

Connor reached out a hand and ran his palm down the length of Oliver’s long arms. Connor’s voice was low when he said, “I think the real question is, should I set it to see how long it takes you to get hard again so I can ride the fuck out of you?” Connor pulled the tie loose from it’s knot around Oliver’s wrists and turned the man over, which wasn’t really that difficult. Oliver winced at the release of his arms, the muscles aching with protest.

Ollie grinned up at him and fumbled for Connor’s phone, setting the timer back to zero before he reached up to yank Connor’s in with two handfuls of the man’s thick hair. “I bet it takes more than ten minutes,” he breathed into their kiss. “But hey…with you? Who knows. You’re a lot better than the man of two years ago, and that’s saying something…” Connor growled before pressing their mouths together.

If two years was a lot of practice? Then the years before them were going to be fantastic.