Frathouse Boxboy: Cam and Zee- Kiss
content warning: dubcon kissing, intimate whumper (sort of, no whump happens here though) dehumanization, the brothers making Z2 behave like a dog, cam’s internalized homophobia.
Zee is warm, a pleasant weight against his arm. He’s canted towards him, even though now he has to turn his neck to ninety degrees to watch the laptop screen. He does so like a cat, following movement, just a little out of focus. Trying to read causes him to scrunch his eyes shut and whimper, so he avoids it, zoning out just enough that it won’t hurt him to look at the screen.
“How is that even comfortable?” Cam asks, clicking the answer to number 75 on the quiz. C. His own eyes are getting heavy, but the assignment is due at midnight, ten minutes from now.
Z2 makes a non committal sound in reply, cheek pressed against Cam’s shoulder. He’s heat-seeking, hungry for a friendly touch.
Zee understands the world as hostile or soft, existing for him only in extreme or another. If he can get a soft touch, a kind word, he can convince himself which one he’s currently in. He needs allies and tries his best to make them, though some of the brothers are impossible to please.
He was extra grateful tonight to be extracted from them. Cam took pity on him, pulled him from their bored ranks before they did anything worse than make him drink out of the “doggie dish” and walk around on all fours so they could laugh and take videos on their phones. They’ve done it before, plenty of times, mock-barking at him and “teaching” him tricks with the campus newspaper rolled tight in their fists. Roll over, Z2. Sit, stay. Paw. No, other paw! Bad boy. Thwack.
“Alright.” He’d said, patting his leg to Call Z2 over. “This way, Lassie, training time’s over.” The boys had laughed as Z made his way to Cam’s side on all fours, because no one told him he could get up and walk like a person yet.
No one argued with him, told him to leave Z2 with them. Cam knows if he behaves like he is in charge, most of the time it goes unchallenged. It hadn’t taken him long after pledging to discover the trick he’d been using for years worked here, too.
He pulls the scrollbar to the bottom to see how many questions are left on the quiz. 90 total. He sighs, scrolling back up to number 76.
Cam smirks, going to the next question. Zee only asks because he’s concerned Cam’s impatient sigh was about him. His insecurity is so obvious sometimes it hurts. Did I do something wrong?
“Nothing.” Cam assures him. “You’re good, relax.”
“Shh. Give me five minutes.”
Zee cringes, whole body tensing.
“Dude this is due in like two seconds and I gotta get it done. Tell me after.” He adds, trying to soften his tone. He doesn’t need Zee to get all weird tonight. He’s tired, and he’s got an eight AM class tomorrow. Numbers 77 through 82 are a breeze, right from the chapter. Zee barely breathes against him as he finishes, hits submit with a minute to spare.
Zee is more hesitant now, even after the tiny reprimand. “Nothing. Sorry.”
Cam closes his laptop, sets it to the side. “Nothing, huh?”
“I didn’t mean to bother you.” He looks up with big eyes. There’s a softness about him, despite everything. Even the little flashes of anger that Cam sees don’t stay, they melt away into this.
Cam could tie Z2 over his desk and take his blowtorch lighter to him and he’d still be apologizing deliriously later, seeking approval. He’d looked so comically sincere earlier on his knees for Paul and Tyler and Michael, holding his hands at his chest how they showed him, a mock puppy dog in his collar and basketball shorts. Zee knows all too well there’s nothing stopping any of them but each other— Lord of the Flies and this is their island.
He begs Cam to drop it with his eyes, the weariness of all his I’m sorrys in a look.
“Alright, don’t tell me, then.”
Zee looks as if he’s been slapped.
“But you don’t need to be so scared, okay?” Cam adds, dropping his voice as if someone might possibly hear. “Not when it’s just us.”
Zee’s eyes widen at that, hopeful. Is this what Alex sees? He wonders what Alex says to him in private, if Zee snuggles up to him so unselfconsciously, too.
Cam swallows, dropping his eyes over Z’s mouth, his auburn hair grown back out over his ears, his forehead. He gets why Amber likes him, why she asked to keep him for a weekend. He imagines Zee with a pile of sorority girls around him like fawning mermaids, touching and cooing, how flustered he must’ve gotten.
Deciding to lean in is like jumping from a ledge into freezing water. He hesitates, and halfway down he can’t believe he’s done it.
Zee’s mouth is soft, softer than he thought it would be, like a girl’s. He whimpers softly into Cam’s mouth and Cam almost pulls away until Zee kisses back, the barest hint of pressure. It was a noise of pleasure, Cam realizes, bringing his hand up between them slowly so not to spook him. He slides his fingers over Zee’s jaw, cups his smooth skin in his hand to better kiss him, to feel how real he is, how human and boy and… Zee.
He pulls away an inch, looking down his own nose at Z’s face, tilted up so willingly. He’d imagined this before, some faceless guy in the dark somewhere at a party, bruising and breathless with rough hands in hair, raking over clothes, the scrape of teeth, an insistent tongue.
This was something else entirely. Tender. A different sort of hunger. Cam has the sudden sharp urge to shove Z away, to find the cruelest words he can and hurl them at him, to protect himself from whatever bridge he’s crossing, whatever place is being stamped into his passport there’s no coming back from.
But Zee is sitting perfectly still, waiting, eyes lidded and heavy. His lips are parted, full and kissed-pink. He’s…trusting. Willing. Leaning his face into Cam’s palm. Cam leans in again instead and presses their lips together with the utmost gentleness. Zee’s sweet as before, pliant.
Cam shifts his weight against his pillow and brings his other hand to Zee’s face, holding both his cheeks. The sound their lips make when they part is strangely alluring to him, tantalizing in a way he’d never even thought about before when kissing girls. He’d always kissed them as long as they’d wanted, even after it got boring. It made them more likely to go along with it when he slipped a hand between them and gave their breast a gentle, kneading squeeze, or started to undo the button on their jeans. But this, this was enough. Despite the way the rest of his body was quickly becoming interested, this was overwhelming in itself.
He pulls away to get a look at Zee and for a moment a flash of fear crosses his face, like he knows he’s in trouble, that this is Not Normal.
Cam just smiles gently til the other boy’s face relaxes, mirroring him.
“Here.” He mutters, still feeling a little heady. He unlocks Zee’s collar, lets the weight of it drop into his hands. The circle of skin on Zee’s neck looks sore, chafed. His eyes flutter in relief and Cam sets the heavy leather collar on the bedside table.
He misreads, moves to crawl onto the floor beside Cam’s bed like usual. Cam catches his elbow, not missing the sharp inhale of fear.
“Stay. It’s cold tonight.”
Zee’s face is filled with thinly veiled longing, but Cam can sense the fear right behind it, like static between stations. Was the kiss a sign of intent?
“I’m not gonna do anything. I promise.”
Zee crawls gingerly back up, gets under Cam’s covers beside him. That’s twice Zee trusted him tonight, and all for what? For saving him from his brothers, for letting him sleep in a bed instead of the floor?
He turns out the light, staring up at the darkness. The world hasn’t ended. No one even knows what they’ve done, what he’s done. It just tingles in his stomach, his fingertips. Zee’s breathing evens out and slows almost immediately, but it takes Cam another hour to find sleep.
