Carlos Álvarez

Carlos liked alcohol - c’mon, how could he not? After a whole day of stress, of having to deal with stupid imbeciles who couldn’t spell their own names, it only made sense that he had to use something to unwind. And he definitely would not turn to drugs - those were the only things that he swore not to do.

Yet there was another person who helped him unwind. And despite popular belief, it was, indeed, you.

The both of you had a history of absolutely despising each other. When you became vice-president of the council and Carlos saw you, he thought he was going to throw up. You were the total opposite of him, made completely different arguments, yet still stood your ground. After going his whole life getting whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, this came off as a shock.

So Carlos did the only thing he thought was logical at that moment. And that was, well… silencing you in other ways. Like, for example, kissing you senseless after everyone had left the room, all rough and teeth and tongue, before pulling back and wiping his mouth as if nothing ever happened.

Crazily enough, you seemed to not mind it. Actually, you insisted on it. Soon enough, the energy wasted on the hatred between the two of you quickly began to be used for other more necessary things, like quick make-out sessions, quick and messy kisses, and even giving each other hickeys.

As time progressed, things started to go beneath the surface level. Yes, most things between the two of you were driven by lust, but now new things were added into this… arrangement. After getting to know you a bit better and making sure you weren’t a serial killer, he invited you over for the night, holding you up against him, kissing you until the both of you fell asleep.

Nothing went further than just kissing, maybe sometimes touching, but Carlos didn’t go further. As much as he wanted to rip off your clothes and have his way with you in some situations, he wanted his first time to be meaningful - with someone he loved, and someone he knew loved him.

And he knew that that simply wasn’t you. Sure, this was fun, but nothing about this thing with the both of you screamed love in the slightest way. Not yet, at least.

That’s why Carlos had always been cautious. He’d sometimes try to go a bit further, before stopping and excusing himself. However, he was just a man, and there were moments where his dick did the thinking, instead of his brain.

Just like two months ago.

The both of you were tipsy, over at Carlos’ penthouse, drinking champagne after winning a debate in the council. The alcohol that raced through Carlos’ veins gave him way more confidence than he usually would have, and when he started kissing you, he was more bolder, more meaningful.

He wasn’t drunk, no - God forbid. He’d never get drunk around you. He wasn’t just tipsy, and fuck, did that make things complicated. Because when his hands found your waist, they couldn’t help but sneak beneath your T-shirt, sliding, exploring, and…

The night ended with the both of you in bed, naked from the waist down. You had given him a lazy, quite sloppy blowjob (which was, with no doubts, the best thing he’d ever felt), and then, he went down on you. He swore he must have had a magic tongue, as it was his first time doing this and yet he had you coming undone on his tongue in no time.

However, for days he thought about whether he should have done it. Sure, it was absolutely fucking amazing, and he didn’t regret it in that aspect, but this was going further than he anticipated. When he kissed you in that damn meeting room he never knew things would get this far; he never knew that you’d willingly suck his dick. Not that he was complaining.

But he was shortly snapped out of his daze when, one time, after a less popular and successful proposal for the student council, you asked whether Carlos would like to go to the club with you just to have a couple of drinks, enjoy the music and unwind.

At first, Carlos was extremely sceptical. Growing up, in his households, clubs were absolutely taboo. His parents weren’t present much, but when they weren’t on their fancy business trips, they’d drill into him what was right and what was wrong. And one of the wrongs was clubs.

Clubs were for shameless, dirty and dangerous people. At least that’s what he was told. Of course he gained a new and different perspective, as came with being an adult and learning about the world first-hand, but old habits really died hard. However, for you, he was willing to try. So, he agreed.

Not knowing what to put on, Carlos just wore his usual suit - white shirt, sleek, black jacket with matching pants. Not too fancy, and just the right amount of casual. He’d tied his loosely. And unbuttoned the top of his shirt, giving him that carefree look which he never went for. Ever. But hey, this was the club, after all.

The start wasn’t too bad - Carlos ordered both you and himself a drink at the bar, staying there instead of on the dance floor. There was just something about grinding with a stranger that was slightly off-putting. Obviously he wouldn’t mind it with you, but for others it was a total no. He didn’t know why, but the sheer thought of doing anything with anyone else but you seemed unsettling.

Shit, he’d been spending way too much time with you.

You tried convincing Carlos to go with you to the dance floor, to live a little, but he saved the little dignity he had left and told you no. He stayed in his barstool, sipping on his White Russian while he observed you. A part of him was happy that you were putting yourself out there, meeting new people.

But the bigger side of him made his stomach clench whenever he saw you being too friendly. You’d brush your hand against a guys arm, and that, by itself, would fucking work. He gripped his glass tighter, observing how a dude - which was bigger than him, muscle wise - took obvious interest in you. He was touching you where only Carlos could, your waist, lower back, hell, even your ass.

All of it made his blood boil. He knew he needed to calm down, needed to rein himself in. He wasn’t in a relationship with you, never was. But it was hard when all he was thinking about was how much of an idiot he was for not going all the way with you. Maybe if he wasn’t such a pussy he would have said that he needed you, only you, and that he was not willing to share. And when you looked back at him, smile on your face while that burly dude held you?

Mhm. Total mindfuck.

Carlos ordered himself a stronger drink, not even caring what it was. He wanted to can the ache within him, knowing that he hadn’t satisfied you. That he wasn’t enough. That you needed more than him to feel happy.

I’ll show you satisfaction… He thought to himself, eyes darkening as he took a sip of his newly made drink. You were visibly buzzing with joy, practically skipping towards him with the guy who could not keep his hands to himself. At all.

As soon as you were within arms reach, Carlos instinctively reached for your belt loop, hooking his finger beneath it and pulling you towards him. Doing this allowed him to wrap an arm securely around your waist, keeping you securely against him while he remained sat down. Fuck this, fuck that guy, he wasn’t standing up for nobody.

Unless you asked, of course.

“You’ve been gone for so long, baby.” Carlos hummed, placing his chin on your shoulder. He never called you baby before, no. Carlos wasn’t huge on pet names, so this? This was a revelation.

But the best part was that the position of the both of you was fucking perfect - your back to his chest, standing in front of where he was sat. It gave him the perfect view of the guys face, and it was golden.

Taking in a deep breath, Carlos’ hands slid down to your hips, holding them, brushing his thumbs in circles against your waist, “who’s this guy? Hm? Your friend?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked at the guy.

The guy in question cleared his throat, rubbed the back of his neck, muttering a soft “sorry” before awkwardly leaving the scene. Oh, Carlos loves this. Absolutely fucking loved this. He knew you’d be mad, probably mad as fuck. Obviously you would. He literally just cockblocked you. But hey, he had his reasons.

And he’d make sure that, from now on, he was the only one you’d be going to whenever you needed to be satisfied.