TW: Glory Holes, Blow Jobs, Not RPF, Anonymous Sex (somewhat initially), Safe Sex, Awkwardness

Trott's headache was abating, but what he saw before him was the last thing he had expected to see tonight- a glory hole in the side of the bathroom stall.

He just wanted some peace and quiet, away from the music of the club, while he waited for the ibuprofen to kick in. But no, just his luck. Trott picks the stall with the hole in the wall and a guy on the other side. A guy who just had to stick his dick through.

That someone giggles, and Trott rolls his eyes.

Honestly, it's not a bad dick. Not diseased from what he can tell. Kind of cute, if dicks could be cute... Of course, it's not usually the dick that's the problem, it's the person attached to it.

What the fuck, Trott thinks. Come on, are you really going to stare at some guy's dick sticking through a hole in the wall?

It's not like it's right in his face, but leaning to the left would change that quick.

And whoever's on the other side knows he's here- he can see the shoes under the stall walls. If he didn't want Trott to look, he shouldn't have stuck his dick through. It was a huge hole, too, bigger than a softball in diameter. Big enough to show the other man's crotch in its entirety.

Wait a minute.

He can see a pale birthmark just past the trimmed hair.

He knows that mark.

Trott's memory flashes back five years, to a summer before returning to college. He and Smith, an old high school classmate, fucking around just for kicks.

And now Trott was once again face to face with his dick.

Fucking hell. Now what? He'd been staring for at least five minutes...and Smith was still waiting. The guy had a steady resolve for gay chicken.

Well...two could play at that game.

Trott stands up and quietly gets to his knees. The bathroom tiles are terrible, cracked and rough, and he's going to hurt later. But Trott steels himself. He takes out a condom from his wallet and tears it open. Before he can talk himself out of it, he rolls it over Smith's dick.

A groan comes from the other side of the wall, and Trott smirks.

Yeap. That's Smith, alright.

"Fucking-" Smith stammers as Trott trails his finger along the side.

He can even hear the other man grinding his teeth.

Trott keeps himself from chuckling, but grins as he shifts closer.

He was going to make Smith lose his fucking mind.

Leaning one arm against the stall wall, he slowly licks his tongue across the head of Smith's cock.

That gets him a whimper in response.

Trott smirks, and envelops the head with his mouth. He takes more and more in, slowly, and listens to the labored breaths coming from above.

When he reaches the base, Smith moans, and Trott hears a thunk sound that must be his forehead hitting the stall wall.

Trott breathes in through his nose. He sucks along the shaft as he pulls back, and starts bobbing his head slowly along the length.

"Fuck. Oh, fuck-" Smith tries to hold back his groans, but when the person sucking your dick knows exactly what you like, it's hard to keep it in.

Trott goes at it for several minutes, picking up speed.

"Fucking- shit, 'm-"

Trott can hear Smith trembling as he comes, and can feel it, too. He's glad he can't taste it as he pulls off completely.

Smith slumps hard against the stall wall, making it creak.

Trott does him the favor of disposing the condom into the toilet on his left. He waits for Smith to catch his breath. He licks his lips and wrinkles his nose at the weird taste in his mouth.

When Smith pulls his dick out of the glory hole, Trott can't resist. He raps his knuckles on the stall wall and stands up. "Are you gonna return the favor, or what, mate?" He mutters lowly with a smirk.

"...Trott?!" Smith squawks. There's a hurried zipping up sound, and then the tapping of shoes as Smith hops up and down to peek over the top of the stall wall. "What-"

Trott raises an eyebrow and looks down pointedly at his arousal straining the front of his jeans.

"Fuck, this is-" Smith stops hopping. He undoes the latch of his door and walks around to jiggle Trott's. "Let me in."

Trott undoes the latch.

Smith crowds into Trott's stall. "The fuck are you doing here?" He laughs with a smile. He looks good, for five more years of age. Got more of a beard, and his hair is even more of a tousled mess.

Trott rolls his eyes. "It's a bathroom, mate, what do you think I was doing."

"But I mean-" Smith gestures to the glory hole.

"Why'd you stick your dick through?"

He grins. "I was dared."

"You'll do anything for money, won't you?" Trott scoffs.

"Come on Trott, you know that already." Smith winks.

"Well, I don't normally do that, if that's what your asking." Trott looks pointedly at the glory hole and crosses his arms over his chest.

Smith swallows, staring at him blankly. "Then why did you?"

Trott shrugs and gives a smirk. "I'd know that birthmark anywhere."

"You did spend an awful lot of time up close and personal with my dick." Smith scoffs.

"Hard to forget a dick as ugly as yours, mate."

He grins. "Yeah, okay. Got anything for me to suck, or just your fucking candy cane?"

"It wasn't fucking striped-" Trott groans.

"Mate, only half of it would turn red-"

"Might want to look again, sunshine, because you're incorrect."

"Filthy bastard." Smith growls playfully. "You just want me to suck you off, don't you?"

Trott rolls his eyes again. "Shut the fuck up and get on your knees, Smith. Fuck's sake."

Smith smiles. This time, he takes out a condom and peels it open as Trott undoes his pants.

"No more glasses, huh? Contacts?" Smith asks, the question strangely intimate.

Trott shakes his head. "Lazered."

He winces. "Not me. No thanks."

"You were luckily blessed with good vision."

Smith gives half a shrug. "I got other things for weaknesses." He ducks his head slowly in, but pulls back at Trott's resultant flinch. "Can I-" He hesitates. "Can I kiss you, or is that too..."

Trott swallows thickly. "Um. Maybe not?"

Smith pulls away. "Right. Sorry."

The two of them look down for a minute. Smith hovers his hand over the head of Trott's dick, rolling the condom over the tip.

Trott, impatient, sighs, and folds his fingers over Smith's to roll the condom down the rest of the way.

As they guide it on together, they look up and meet each other's eyes. Trott makes a soft sound in the back of his throat and arousal coils in the base of his spine.

Smith lowers to his knees, gaze locked with Trott's the entire time. His lips part obscenely as he sinks his mouth around Trott's cock.

Trott leans back against the wall. He stares, eyes half-lidded, down at Smith. Smith stares right back with fire in his gaze.

It's only now that Trott realizes the position he's in. If he knew all of Smith's tells and weak spots from five years ago, Smith also knew his.

Smith's fingers wrap around the base of his cock. His lips glide along the shaft with practiced ease. The movement of his mouth makes slick, wet sounds, and when he hums Trott sighs breathlessly.

Smith's tongue rubs against the underside. A moan tumbles from Trott's mouth as Smith applies more pressure with his lips.

"Smith..." Trott moans quietly. Unable to keep his eyes open any longer, they flutter shut. He can't resist removing one hand from the wall and reaching up to thread his fingers through Smith's hair. He guides Smith farther down, and holds back a strangled groan when Smith reaches the base.

It feels like they're there forever, with Smith's mouth a warm and welcome pressure moving up and down Trott's dick. But soon enough Smith works harder and Trott's coming undone, fingers tightening their grip in Smith's hair as he comes.

Smith does him the courtesy of discarding the condom this time, as Trott waits for his head to stop spinning.

"Wasn't expecting you on the other side of this wall, Trott." Smith says as he gets up off his knees.

"I could say the same thing about you." Trott pants. He zips himself back up and leans away from the wall, watching Smith quietly. "That wasn't bad, for not sucking me off in five years."

"Would you maybe...want to do it again sometime?" Smith asks, scratching at his beard awkwardly. "If you don't mind me asking..."

Trott chuckles and jerks a thumb at the stall wall. "What, the whole glory hole thing?"

"No, I meant-" Smith scoffs, and Trott interrupts him before he can speak. He kicks the plunger on the toilet and flushes down the evidence of what they've done, before grinning and meeting Smith's eyes again.

"Definitely."

Credit to ghostofgatsby on Ao3