"I'm really drunk," Jones muttered the universal mating call of slags the world over, before lolling against Dan's shoulder.

Dan considered shaking him off and leaving him to lech elsewhere, but he was just drunk enough and lonely enough and lazy enough to sit there and let Jones bite his neck and grope underneath his shirt.

The party was one of the many spontaneous ones, that seemed to happen organically in the House of Jones, that had taken place since he'd moved there. Jones had been DJ-ing earlier but now had surrendered the decks into the hands of a small dark haired girl who was proving surprisingly competent.

"You gonna get involved here or what?," Jones looked up at him blearily, "Don't you fancy me?"

Dan rolled his eyes at the inane statement. They weren't fifteen for fuck's sake.

"I well like you, Dan," Dan cringed at the mutilation of the English language and Jones looked slightly hurt.

He felt something that could have been regret or could have been his stomach protesting at the near fatal levels of alcohol in his system. He roughly ran a hand through Jones' multicoloured hair and grunted half heartedly. Apparently this was enough and Jones returned his mouth to Dan's throat. He continued combing through Jones' hair with his fingers and pulling it just hard enough to hurt as the younger man raised an impressive bruise on his neck.

"Christ Jones, were you a vampire in a past life?" Dan looked at the top of the head nestled under his chin and Jones disengaged with a wet slurp to look back at him.

"'m I hurting you?" he asked.

"I'm not a fucking princess, Jones," he snapped irritably and Jones gave him a sleepy smile and traced his dark mark with the tip of a finger.

"You're my little bitch now," Jones teased and kissed it softly.

"Fuck off," Dan said without malice.

Jones kissed his neck again and then kissed along his jaw and nibbled at his unshaven skin gently. In exasperation (or at least that's how he justified it to himself later) Dan held his face still and covered his lips with his own. Jones whined into his mouth and humped his leg. The overall impression was that of an over amorous puppy who fully expected to be kicked at any minute.

"Randy little bastard," Dan whispered against his lips like an endearment. Maybe it was.

He covered Jones' crotch with a large hand and ground down on the answering hardness with the heel of his hand, causing Jones' hips to twitch.

"You want me to do something about that?" he said disinterestedly as he cupped Jones' groin.

"Yes please," Jones replied with a slackened mouth and closed eyes.

Dan flicked open the button of his jeans and pulled down the zip in one smooth movement. Pushing aside the brightly coloured pants, he palmed Jones' cock and pulled him off with long, slow strokes.

"Faster," Jones begged frantically.

Dan rubbed his thumb across the head languidly and smeared precome around the rest of the straining member, making no effort to go any faster.

"Please, Dan. I wanna come, wanna come so bad," Jones tried to jerk his hips upward, but Dan kept him pinned down with his arm, while his hand played with him tortuously slowly.

"You dirty little bitch," Dan said quietly, into his ear and Jones shivered, "Look at you with your cock out in a room full of strangers. Do you get off on people looking at you? I knew that you needed attention, but fuck, I never knew you were this kinky."

Jones was squirming under his broad arm and shoulder and his nipples were visibly poking through the thin material of his shirt. Dan could feel his heart beating in time to the pounding bass against his arm. He was so fucking beautiful.

"Open your eyes, Jones," he commanded and felt a smug satisfaction as the DJ's eyes flew open immediately.

He looked at him with wide shining eyes and panted softly through swollen pink lips. His eyes flickered to his exposed dick in Dan's hand and back again. Dan growled and pumped harder until Jones bucked hard and whispered desperately under his breath.

He released his hold on Jones and knelt between his knees, putting the head in his mouth and sucking. He looked up into Jones' eyes as he gasped and came. Dan swallowed the bitter come and sat back on the sofa, leaving Jones to tuck away his shrinking penis back into his jeans and zip himself up. He turned to look at Dan and kissed him sloppily, before pulling away and wrinkling his nose.

"You taste weird," he said and Dan frowned at him.

"Technically, you taste weird," he replied and crossed his arms.

"Want me to-" Jones made a vague, but obscene, hand gesture.

"No, you're alright," Dan said and put his arm around him, sighing.

Jones lay against him quietly, his heart still thundering against his ribcage, and willed himself still. Dan smelt of stale beer and cigarettes. He felt like home.