It was the last week of school before summer, so of course Jubilee had to have one of her infamous dorm parties, which mean firework-like strobe lights, pulsing music, and glitter fucking everywhere- even in the tray of jello shots on her dresser. The overall impression Peter got as he walked into her dorm with Barry trailing behind him was a mini rave, complete with intoxicated people making out in the corner. (He was pretty sure that tangle of limbs and neon-on-black fabric on a beanbag chair was Jubilee herself and NTW, but one can never be too sure.)
Jean and Scott were in the corner on more beanbag chairs, accompanied by Storm and a very grumpy vodka-toting Warren. Storm grinned at Peter from across the room and waved him over, yelling something over the music and looking very, very drunk. He chuckled and was over there in an instant, ignoring all the other teenagers at the party pulling Barry down in the same beanbag with him and wrapping an arm possessively around his waist before leaning over the hear what Storm was trying to say.
“What was that, sorry?”
“WHAT?” She yelled over a blasting trap remix of ‘Hello Friday’.
“WHAT- THAT’S WHAT I SAID” Peter yelled back, causing Jean to sigh and telekinetically turn the music down a bit so they could talk without screaming, flipping off the boo-givers from the other crowd of mutants. She leaned forward too and took a dignified sip from a red solo cup.
“She was trying to say ‘Do you want a drink’,” She said, smirking in a ‘we’re all trying get shitfaced, get in on this’ kinda way and going back to her conversation with Scott.
“What she said!” Storm laughed and handed him a jello shot, giving Barry a scandalized look when he politely declined and taking his shot for herself.
“We were just about to start a game, you in?” She said, nudging Warren in the ribs until he looked- well, glared- at her. “Birdy here’s going first”
“I am not, fuck you.” He spat, glaring at her harder, if that was physically possible.
““A game of what?” Barry cut in, leaning over Peter and batting one of Warren’s wings out of his way, then choking on the resulting cloud of glitter. Storm stared at him rather blankly.
“I have no idea.” She said, frowning slightly, and reaching over Scott to poke at the Jubilee NTW tangle, waiting patiently until one of them surfaced for air.
“Uh, kinda busy, stormy-” Jubilee broke off in a giggle as NTW bit her neck, playfully pushing her girlfriend off of her so she could focus her full attention on Storm and Peter despite NTW huffing and going to sit next to Warren and bum some of his vodka.
“Alright, what’s up?” She said, stealing Peter’s shot and downing it without the slightest change of expression.
“Hey, I was going to drink that-!”
“We need a game to play, any ideas?” Storm interrupted, giving her a meaningful look. “And not spin the bottle.”
Jubilee shrugged tapped her lip, thinking.
“Uh… seven minutes in heaven?”
“HELL NO.” Warren said loudly, flushing and glancing at the closet. “We played that shit last time, and I’m sure as fuck not going through that again.” Scott smirked and poked him.
“Like you and Kurt didn’t enjoy it.”
“Shut it, glasses!”
“Make me, featherbrain-”
Barry poked his head out from behind the now bickering boys and held a hand up like he was waiting to he called on, awkwardly shuffling around Warren’s outstretched wings. “Yeah, Barry?” Peter said, grinning and yanking him by his outstretched hand over to the small group of girls.
“How about…. Truth or dare?” Everyone groaned unanimously.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••
Several round of both truth or dare and shots later, they were out almost out of alcohol, nearly everyone at the party had left, NTW and Warren were passed out in a pile of hoarded beanbags, Peter had dared Scott to take his glasses off, Jean had dared Storm to kiss Jubilee- which ended in Storm sporting a brilliantly purple black eye thanks to NTW- and Jubilee had a new hole in her wall. It had so far gone better than expected, all things considered.
“Wait wait wait, ok,-” Jean slurred, snorting and covering her mouth with her hand, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter as she winked at Peter and slung an arm around Scott’s shoulders, “I-i dare Barry to give Peter a…” She trailed off, furrowing her brows, and snapped her fingers. “Right! I remembered what it’s called. A lapdance! I dare Barry to give Peter a lapdance.” This was met with hooting and whistling from the few remaining and conscious party guests, while Peter’s jaw dropped. There was no way Barry, his awkward, kinda shy, adorable Barry, would agree to this-
“You’re fucken on.” Barry said loudly, sitting up and downing the last jello shot.
“Haha, what the fuck? No way.” Jean laughed, waving a chair over from across the room. He grinned and stood up,
Barry hovered over where Peter sat, rubbing but never truly touching. Teasing. Running his hands lightly across his shoulders, down his chest, tracing the inner seam of his jeans with one finger, barely brushing all the places he knew would make him shiver and unconsciously arch his back.
His hips moved in tandem with the pulsing bass of the music, his lips silently mouthing the words. Peter felt like time was becoming irrelevant without the aid of either of their mutations, the other people, the room, everything slowing and melting away like taffy on a hot day- excluding the two of them and the music.
Barry caught his lip between his teeth and made eye contact as he ground his hips down onto Peter's clothed lap, rolling them back with a snap, making Peter groan in such a delicious way.
He smirked and batted Peter's hand away as he went to rest it on his thigh, pulling him forward by the collar of his shirt. "Look but don't touch." He whispered, his voice like antifreeze- sugary sweet and deadly- trying and failing to hide the smirk in his voice and biting at the shell of Peter's ear. He whined quietly in response, obediently lowering his hand but still practically drinking in the sight laid out for him. His boyfriend, face flushed, grinding into his lap and practically moaning along with the song, tangling his fingers in his overgrown hair with a look on his face that said he was utterly enjoying himself, reveling in the attention- Peter's pretty sure he heard the wood of the chair crack beneath his fingers.