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Horny man finds fetish object in dirty laundry.

He pulled into the driveway taken up by a single gray sedan, recovered his bag, and headed up the sidewalk.

His heart was pounding. Four days of inexplicable fun awaited him behind that door. He half-expected Troye to run out the door already hammered and waiting for him to jump in on his coop match. He didn't, but the thought that he might have put him in a good enough mood to walk through the door. He did so, bursting in like he owned the place. He threw open the screen and the hard plastic door, Troye glancing over to acknowledge his presence but too deeply involved in his game to say much. "Hey!" he shouted, racking up three kills while Cam tossed his backpack next to the TV.

"Hey! COD 4?" he asked, plopping down next to him on the couch.

"Hell yeah. This is my best game in a while," Troye replied, an indiscernible mess of noise emitting from his controller. His reflexes and skills with his fingers were incredible.

"I'll jump in next game." Cam grabbed his bag and settled into place in the corner of the lofty couch, already settling down for the night. It was late, but it would be much later before the night was over. He dug through his backpack, subtly ignoring the bottle of lube packed next to his bags of munchies.

He pulled out his personal effects and took a minute to freshen up with deodorant (it was hotter in Troye's house, and the jumble of running technology made it worse.) Fresh 'none' scent wrapped under his arms. Better than sweat at least.

Troye's match came to a close at the right moment and Cameron jumped right in. They had their process down to a science, and he managed to get his account connected and sign into the game before the next game fired up. Time for some serious ass-kicking.

"After this game we'll crack open...something, haha." The silence on the alcohol was already broken. Oh yes, a good weekend was ahead.

"That's totally good with me!" Cam couldn't wait just thinking of all the memories they'd make, stories they'd tell, records they'd set in this one night, not to mention the rest of the weekend.

"How much do you think you can take?" Troye posed, undertoned halfway through with the clicking of their joysticks. Not that he actually knew the first thing about units of alcohol, but at least it warmed up the frivolity.

"Uhh not that much," was the response. Fairly cautious answer.

The small talk over the game continued, but they kept up Troye's winning streak. They ended up playing another game because they feared losing their skills once the seal on whatever liquor they picked was broken. As they came to a close on the second game, Troye shot up and started straight for the bar.

"I'm so ready, dude." He started to fumble through the levels of bottles, fingertips tapping the caps of the strongest spirits. "Any idea what we should try first?"

"I don't want to go too hard too fast. Maybe something flavored--sugary?" In actuality, he wanted to wake up tomorrow and not remember the last week. But he really didn't know how much he could take before that would happen, and he wanted interesting things to happen first.

"Okay, then there's basically mixed fruit vodka or schnapps. Pick your poison." Troye himself went for a nondescript, artificial berry vodka that wasn't opened - he wanted it all. Before Cam could even make a decision, Troye had a cup filled to the brim with ice and sickly sweet, almost pure alcohol. "Cheers," he murmured as he took a sizable taste-test.

Cam gave in, either because he wanted to keep pace with Troye or just so he would have a fun night - couldn't decide which - and poured himself some peach-flavored vodka out of another unopened bottle.

"Haha sweet, we'll both be gone by the end of the night," Troye chuckled.

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