Author's Note: Hey, hello, it's me, Andi. If you read my Free Use story, I'm sorry to say that I will not be continuing it. Those characters were genderswaps of my normal cast of characters, and by flipping their genders and putting them in practically paradise... I managed to strip everyone of their personalities in the process. I wasn't happy that I'd turned them into basically sex objects, so I won't be continuing that story.
This story is mostly going to be M/M, but practically everyone is bi, so anything is possible. One of my main characters (he doesn't appear in this chapter) is a transgender male. I've been debating this for a while, but I won't be putting chapters focused on him in the Transgender/Crossdresser section. The fact that those two are considered the same on this site is kinda disgusting in my opinion, since they're two very separate things, and people conflate the two way too much as it is. Anyway, I'll still put transgender in the tags for when the character is relevant, but really, if you're reading through that tag just to fetishize trans people, just... we're just people, okay? Ollie is a dude, he just happens to not have a dick. I'll be reserving the use of the Transgender/Crossdresser tag for whenever crossdressing is a main focus.
Anyway, this story (both this chapter and any to come) is not meant to represent healthy relationships. Honestly, all my characters need to stop fucking and get therapy, but that wouldn't make for very good erotica. Drug use isn't glamorous, alcohol destroys lives, and toxic relationships just make things worse.
Content Warnings: Drug Use, Alcohol Abuse, Vomit
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It wasn't often that Jarred Abernathy was shown up at his own parties, but that blue haired bastard had just jumped on a table and started belting out the chorus to Arsenic Affection. People were surrounding him with their phones, taking videos like he's someone special, and then it hit him.
Plumarian McNeil, more commonly known as Plum, lead singer of Star Eyes, the high school punk band that had swept more than a few small towns in the Pacific Northwest off their feet, was crashing his party.
He glanced around to see if any of his friends were paying attention. He locked eyes with Elijah from across the room, who was giving him an amused smile as he sipped on his beer. He was probably enjoying the show.
Jarred, however, didn't want some punk ass high schooler getting caught at one of his parties. The cops let a lot slide, but Jarred wasn't going to be responsible for some bratty minor. This kid was a disaster waiting to happen.
He went up to the table, actually having to fight a bit to get past all the drunk girls crowding the blue-haired brat. He stood up on the table with him, and holy shit, this kid was tall. Jarred wasn't short by any means, standing at around six feet, but Plum was almost a full head taller than him. It almost took his breath away.
"Hey, kid." Jarred clapped a hand on Plum's shoulder. "I know you're having fun and all, but high schoolers aren't invited to this kind of shit. Come back when you're in college."
"Bruh." Plum stopped singing long enough to dig out his wallet. He opened it up and showed it to Jarred. "I'm RSU's latest music major who's going to get a building named after him after I make it big." Sure enough, there was a college ID, and it certainly didn't look fake, at least at first glance. "And besides, I've been eighteen for like nine months now."
"Oh, thank God." Jarred sighed with relief.
"I take it you're the host of this party?" Plum smirked, pulling him in close.
"The name's Jarred."
"Jarred, huh?" He noticed a bit of the familiar white powder at the base of Plum's nose, and the smear of his black lipstick. Plum leaned in closer, his breath hot and heavy against Jarred's ear "Let me tell you, I am having the time of my life thanks to you. Maybe the rich are good for something after all."
Jarred rolled his eyes. "Right, you're one of those 'fuck the rich' assholes, aren't you."
"Well, I normally say 'eat the rich', but your idea sounds better." The taller one winked.
Two could play at that game. Jarred grabbed onto Plum's stupid little leather vest crop top (He honestly had not way to describe it) and yanked him in even closer, moving his lips so they practically touched the brat's ear. "Oh, trust me, if you end up in bed with me, you won't be doing the fucking." He smirked as he pulled away. "Don't break my table, okay?"
"I make no promises." Plum's voice hitched just a little, imperceptible to most, but nothing got past Jarred's ears.
The moment Jarred climbed down from the table, Plum started singing again. Eh, at least he could sing. Most of the time when coked up brats started singing, they were absolutely awful, but Plum could at least hold a tune.
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A couple hours later, it seemed like Plum had finally partied himself out. Well, at least he wasn't singing anymore. His throat probably got too sore. Or he passed out in one of the bathrooms. Honestly, as long as the kid didn't take a swan dive off the table, Jarred couldn't care less.
The summer air was hot and sticky, and the smell of the ocean only a few hundred yards away filled his lungs.. Half the party was out on the patio, some in the pool. A lot of his recurring guests knew to bring swimsuits, but a lot of the incoming freshmen were swimming in their underwear instead. Jarred watched from his seat on one of the outdoor couches as a few girls convinced their friend to skinny dip, and soon after the girl jumped in the pool naked, a few others decided to take off what little they were wearing as well.
"Hey, uh, excuse me?" Someone lightly touched his arm. He looked up, and there was a group of three giggling girls. "Can you help me?" The middle one said, twirling a finger in her dark brown hair.
"How can I please ya?" Jarred chuckled as he sat up straighter.
"Well, you see, my friends here dared me to take a body shot off a stranger, and you have vodka, so I figured you can help me out."
"You're not allergic to peaches, are you?" Jarred held up the bottle of peach vodka. It was the good shit, too, not just the shit you get at a liquor store by a gas station.
"Not at all."
"Perfect." Jarred started unbuttoning his shirt. Usually, he was the one drinking off of someone else, but he was willing to flip that around for a girl as cute as her. He laid back on the couch. "You want to do the pouring, or should I?"
"Oh, uh, you can I guess."
"Fair enough." Of course, he was a few shots in himself, so he overpoured, but that didn't really matter. Still, it tickled as the liquid rolled down his stomach and towards his pants.
The girl positioned herself in front of him and started drinking from his navel. He tried to hold back his laughter as her tongue accidentally tickled him. Eventually, she managed to get all the liquid from his belly button, but her tongue started trailing down the same bath the overpour had. "Damn, I just can't seem to get it all." She smirked against his skin.
"Yeah, some went down under my pants. You may have to slide them off to get the rest."
"You bet." She giggled as she fiddled with the button on his pants.
"Isa!" One of the other girls grabbed her by the shoulder. "I thought we all agreed that we wouldn't let each other hook up with strangers while drunk."
Fuck.
