Pogue/Caleb

Motorcycle

Caleb wasn't one for drinking; he had never really acquired a taste for alcohol, beer, hard liquor.. anything, which made him really not mind that he was always the designated driver whenever he went out with friends.

That's what he assumed would happen tonight as well. The four Sons were at some party Reid had dragged them to; Reid had also spiked the punch at said party. His intentions were to get Tyler wasted, not Caleb, but when he saw the oldest Son drink countless cups of that spiked punch, he sure as hell didn't stop him, warn him, anything.

He did warn Pogue though and the look that appeared on his face was just too much info for Reid. Sure, he suspected those two were doing something behind closed doors but he didn't want to know about it.

Hours later, Pogue was dragging a drunk Caleb out to his motorcycle and trying to arrange him in a way that he knew he wouldn't fall.

Who would have thought Caleb was such a giggly drunk? He kept chuckling and fidgetting and moving and Pogue swore he was going to fall off... at least for the first five minutes of them going home.

Then Caleb started getting a little frisky... his hands started to wander, down to Pogue's thighs, up his stomach, under his shirt, everywhere; he nuzzled Pogue's neck, kissing it, biting it, sucking on it; and somehow he had managed to inch even closer and now there was no space between Caleb's front and Pogue's back.

Now as much as Pogue was enjoying this, he could barely concentrate on the road in these conditions.

"Babe, you wanna constrain yourself a bit?" he chuckled, trying to focus on anything but what Caleb was doing.

"...no," Caleb smirked into his neck.

"C'mon, Cay, we're almost at your house." He was gripping his handlebars with how hard he was trying to focus on staying on the road and not on just pulling over and--

"Then go faster."

Pogue had no problem with doing that -- he had a drunk Caleb groping him, speed limits could wait.