Hicvember 25 3: Burps
I know I had the last one noted as 3 before too. Hush, I changed my mind on the numbering.
Anyway, this is pretty different from my usual, in that it is extremely about guys being bros. I don't know if they'd actually enjoy it (I think they would, but not sure), but this was written with thoughts and love towards one of my partners who absolutely fucking loves dudes. I also went fairly ham on the burps. So have a short of some jocks and a nerd having a burp contest!
TW: Alcohol
Kinks: Hiccups, Burps, Bellies, Jocks v nerds, actual sex (boner mentioned)
As was often the case, Harold couldn't fucking believe that he was where he was. He couldn't believe that he'd gotten into his dream college. He couldn't believe that he'd gotten into this perfect queer fraternity despite being built like the weediest little nerd. And at this specific moment, he couldn't believe that he was smooshed between two of his fraternity brothers as they joked with him and each other while bingeing on beers.
On his left, Jove (or "Bi Jove", as he hated people calling him) was smiling through his beard, and on his right, Akhil alternated between slapping his back and kissing him on the cheek. They were both a couple years older than him and both on the handegg team (Harold would never fucking call it "football"), built exactly like the linebackers they were, hulking masses of muscle and fat. Hulking masses that had decided to adopt him the second they saw him and just got more and more cuddly the deeper into their drinks they got. And so Harold just kept ending up as the narrow slice of meat in a nerd sandwich.
It was honestly kind of the dream.
Harold sucked on his root beer through a straw while his...buddies? Bros? Crushes? I mean, they were definitely crushing him, so...while his Jove and Akhil were pounding their non-root beers. Almost as if he'd forgotten the nerd between him and Jove, Akhil used his hip to jostle both of the men to his left. "Hey, Jojo, did you hear the thing with—"
"BAOOUUUURRR–*CUP!*" Harold shoved his glass of rootbeer back onto the bar in front of them and covered his mouth with both hands, feeling his face burning as both Jove and Akhil stared down at him. "Um–mmrrrgp. U-uh...*mmk* Sc-scuse me. *hmrk!*" He just barely managed to stutter out. After a second, Jove burst out laughing, clearly well past the point of inebriation where everything was funny. He was the one to slap Harold's back this time, forcing an "*EYUK*–GRUP!" out of him that had him trying even harder to hide his face.
"Pfff, 'scuse you? Dude, that was nothing!" Despite what Jove said, that was absolutely not nothing. Harold's burps had always been way too big for his short, skinny body. Apparently Jove was going to make it look true one way or another, though, because he refilled his glass, then tilted it up and started downing it in massive gulps.
"Oh shit, you got him started," said Akhil, rubbing Harold's back and catching him as he kept hiccuping and rocking backwards. "This is gonna be a whole fucking thing." A tiny whimper came out of Harold's throat between hiccups, and another burp snuck out when Akhil gave his belly a few pats.
Jove slammed his glass back down on the bar with a satisfied huff, his already-too-tight T-shirt riding up a bit on his bloated gut, and he gave it a slap before a "GWOOOOOAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRGP!" roared out of him, and Harold was fairly sure that he saw the bar's rafters shaking. "Hah! Excuse me, motherfucker! Beat that!"
"Not everything's gotta be a contest, dude," Akhil said. "...but if it did, beating you wouldn't even be hard. Look, you weren't even loud enough to scare lil' dude's hiccups away."
"What?" Jove looked down and seemed to only now notice Harold's flustered squeaking. The sounds he was managing to conceal with his hands, but nothing could hide the way he was rocking back and forth. And that rocking was shaking up the rootbeer in his stomach, and he could feel himself bloating and growling under Akhil's hand. "Awww," Jove said, leaning against the bar and smooshing his cheek with one hand. "You got the hiccups, bro?"
"...mmmrrrgp–*mmk!*" Harold couldn't exactly deny it, the tiny burps sneaking out of him just making them worse.
"Man, and you're shy as fuck too," Jove said, giving his head a small shake. After a second, though, he snapped his fingers and grinned over at Akhil. "Shit, now you gotta try and beat me!"
"Huh?" Akhil stared at him.
"If you try and out-burp me, I'll totally kick your ass, and you'll end up with the hiccups too! That way nobody'll notice lil' bro here with you being loud as fuck."
After a moment, Akhil rolled his eyes. "Dude, if you want me to get drunk enough to strip, you can just say that." Even so, he refilled his glass too, then started drinking, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat with each big, clumsy gulp. When he finished it, though, he stifled a small "Grrrrrrgp" in his throat, then started filling his glass up again.
"Pfff. mmrgp. Thinks he can kick my ass with pure volume. Hah. I don't even need any more booze." Harold's eyes were yanked back to Jove, just barely able to see his throat bob from under his beard as he started gulping down air. Feeling his face get hotter as his eyes were drawn to Jove's gut again, Harold grabbed his root beer and started sipping through the straw once more, swallowing his hiccups and just needing something to cool him off. "Bup–bwourp–shit, hang on–grup–guh!" Jove covered his mouth, though he kept swallowing, and then after a second, something started growling out of him. "Be–eeeeyuuuuuuurrrrk–eaaaaaat thiiiiiiiIIIIIIiiisss, Akh–*HILP!*–buh! *HWUP!*–bworp! F-fuck!"
Akhil finished his second glass, then, to Harold's...horror? He refilled it and started downing a third. His stomach was bulging out from under his tank top too now, and Harold couldn't look at that without feeling himself being shaken by the hiccups and (relatively) small burps that kept popping out of Jove, something he apparently hadn't seen coming.
"*HUK*–urk! Come on, du–*HOOP*–iiuuuuuuuuude–*CUP!*, quit sta–*HULK*–alling! BWOURP!" Jove used Harold as a medium through which to shove Akhil, who simply held a single finger up as he kept taking slow, methodical gulps of his last beer. All the while, Harold just kept desperately concealing his hiccups and sipping his bubbly drink more and more.
Jove's prodding didn't get Akhil to drink any faster, and eventually he put his glass down surprisingly calmly. He then held up a hand, counting down on his fingers, three, two, one. And once his hand was curled into a fist, he thumped his chest with it, then started to growl. "grrrrruuuuuuooooOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRrrrrlgp. Mmf." He gave his chest a few more thumps, then let out an even longer "BWOR-UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrruulllguuuuuuuuuuuurrrugurp. Hwoof. Bwourglp. Mmh. Think I did beat that. *hmk*–rrp."
"Aw, du–*HOOP*–ude, no w–*HULK*–gurp way! euuuurg–*CUP!* That wasn–*HNKT* anywhe–*URK* close to as l–ooouuuuuuuud as me–EURP–*P-HUP!*"
"Lot long–eeerrrrp though. *hmnk*" Jove's noisy hiccups were contrasted with Akhil's nearly silent jolts, though his burps, though small, were still audible.
Jove groaned and rolled his eyes between hiccups and burps. "Dude, you a–uuuurk are such a fu–*HUCK*–iiinnng dick!"
"Oh yeah? mmmrrrg–*cup!* mmf." Akhil leaned in towards Jove, almost seeming unaware that his jolting, rumbling belly was squishing into Harold below him. "What a–uuuurk are you gonna do ab–*ulp*–bout it?"
"What am *HULK* I gonna do–*HOOK*–ooouuuurp about it?" Jove turned on his bar stool, his stomach pressed against Harold from the other side, and he grabbed Akhil by the belt loops of his jeans, yanking him closer. "I think I'm gonna–*HUCK!*"
"BWAAAAAAOOO–*UCK*–OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUU–*HURK*–UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRR–*IC-OLP*–AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRP! *HIG-HIGGOLP!*"
Jove and Akhil pulled just a bit apart and both stared down between them. And Harold was pulled in on himself like a turtle, wishing that the stiff neck of his button-up shirt would protect him from the massive sound that just forced his mouth open. He was rapidly hiccuping now, belches bursting out between them, and even though he forced his mouth shut, the sounds were barely muffled at all, and he couldn't even find a second to excuse himself.
After a second, Jove burst out laughing, wrapping his arms around Harold and squeezing him tight, forcing another massive belch out of him as he kissed the top of his head. "Awww, du–*HOOP*–uuuuuude!" He cooed, if cooing could be done at a high enough volume to be heard over absurd burps and hiccups.
Akhil at least had the decency to try and hide his laughter between his own hiccups and burps. "Fuck, let's ge---umf, mmmrrrgp get this little g–*hup* guy out of heeeeuuurk before he has a h–*hhup*–heart att–*auk*–grrrrp."
"Yeah, OURP! Don't worry di–*HIRK* dirty Harry," for how much he hated being called Bi Jove, Jove sure loved giving other people stupid nicknames. Harold couldn't exactly complain about that, though, because Jove was currently lifting him up like he was absolutely nothing. Even if that hadn't broken his brain too much to speak, the fact that his strong arms were tight around his stomach, not to mention his own bloated gut shaking and vibrating against Harold's back, just kept forcing more burps and hiccups out of him. "We'll getch–AURP outta he–*EURK!*"
Even though he was the only sober one, Harold felt like he had the least idea what was going on as he was hauled out of the bar and back to their dorm by the two laughing jocks, who, despite his continued oversized belching and hiccups, seemed to forget he was between them again as they wound up making out around their own burps and hiccups and drunkenly squishing him on the couch. So now he was trapped between two huge linebackers kissing each other, getting hard, and unbelievably drunk and noisy while he couldn't help loudly embarrassing himself from the middle.
But honestly, that was also kind of the dream.
