"First round's on me boys!" Rich yells over the thumping music in the club.

"Richard!" Arthur calls, his slightly slurred voice almost drowned out by the shouts of his old school buddies.

"What's up, Artie?!" Rich replies with a cheeky grin, setting a couple of shot glasses in front of his cousin, "Shots for the groom-to-be!"

"Rich, is this all necessary?!" Arthur asks loudly, gesturing to the mountains of alcohol.

"Oh course it is, dear!" Is the reply he gets, along with a clap on the shoulder and a shot being thrust in his face.

Arthur takes the drink, along with a few others, tipping his head back dramatically and grimacing at the taste. As his head goes back to its normal position, he catches sight of something... someone.

"Will?!" He exclaims happily, shooting up from his seat to barrel into the tall man.

"Arthur!" Will grins, wrapping his arms around his friend tenderly, "You're drunk!"

"Blame Richard!" Arthur looks up at Will with a sloppily smile, then frowns, face screwed up, "Oh... Richard... I'm sorry-"

"No! No, it's fine!" Will releases Arthur, his face flushing profusely, "H-He invited me actually."

Arthur's head jerks hilariously, eyes widening, "He invited you? You're... talking?"

Will looks over at the group, at the man at the centre of it.

"I wouldn't exactly say... talking." He says with a rueful smile, "The conversation was something along the lines of, 'Stag do for Arthur? Sick one. Bye.'"

Arthur laughs, "Yeah, definitely not talking."

With a grin, Will claps his friend's shoulder and walks away, leaving him to mingle... and drink.

"Hey." Will is stopped on his way to the bathroom by a deep, irresistible voice behind him.

He turns, taking in the sight of the gorgeous man who spoke.

"Hey... you're not drunk?" Will replies finally, a little bit breathless.

"Nope." Rich smiles sheepishly, "Well... tipsy. But this is Arthur's day, he needs me to be coherent."

"How noble." The taller man jokes, a half-smile forming on his face.

"Oh, so very noble." Richard says, mock-seriously, "A terrible sacrifice. I think I deserve a statue to be honest."

"A national holiday."

"Just name the whole country after me."

Will laughs softly, his big goofy smile appearing on his face. It's so adorable and infectious, Rich can't help but grin back, proud that he'd gotten such a reaction.

After a few seconds Will's smile falls and is replaced by a tortured frown, "You left me."

"I... I left everyone." Rich responds hopelessly.

"But how could you leave me?" Will stresses, his voice cracking slightly on the last word, "I-I thought... never mind. I don't know what I thought."

He goes to turn away, his body hot with embarrassment, when he is stopped by Rich's strong hand.

The two stare at each other, electricity flying through the air between them, carrying all the words that they don't need to say. Rich's eyes are communicating his feelings more effectively than his words ever could.

He surges forward, tugging Will down the short distance to push their lips together in a searing kiss.

Will makes a surprised noise, then a satisfied moan, wrapping his arms around Rich's waist while the short man's hands grip the sides of his face possessively.

He feels himself being pushed backwards, until his back is flush against a cool wall in a dark corner of the club. Rich's hands are roaming everywhere, his face, his neck, his shoulders. Will's hands hardly move, fisted tightly in the fabric of Rich's shirt, or in the tufts of his soft hair.

He moans, out of contentment, his heart beating way too fast. He feels warm with the intimacy, the affection.

But...

Not from arousal.

Rich is kissing him, and kissing him. And it gives him all these feelings, of joy, and love, and fondness.

But when their lower bodies grind together, he knows that he's supposed to feel something... other than the material of his trousers across his skin.

Will sighs, hopelessly, but Rich must register it as arousal, because he shoves his body even harder against Will's. It's not unwelcome; Will revels in the affection, in the physical intimacy of it all, feeling close to Rich. But he doesn't want more than that.

He wrenches himself away, cursing himself when he misses the warm feeling of Rich's presence next to his.

"What's wrong?" The man whispers, a soothing thumb stroking his cheek, eyes locked onto his.

Will opens his mouth slightly, his eyes hooded and tortured.

"Will?" Rich presses, worried.

"I... I can't do this." He says, squeezing Rich's hand one last time and pulling himself away entirely.

He gives Richard a pained look and walks away, back into the bustling crowd of young men enjoying the stag party.

"William!" Arthur yells happily when he sees his curly hair friend approach.

He's sat on a chair surrounded by his friends who are all chatting and sharing drinks between the group.

"Hey, blondie." Will grins, taking a drink which is offered to him and sliding into the group.

"Man... I can't wait to get married." Arthur muses half to him, half to the group. Everyone stops what they're doing anyway to listen to him.

"I can't wait to look down the aisle... see my beautiful bride waiting there." He continues, a soppy smile on his face, "I'd turn around, all nervous and stuff... and then she'd already be looking at me. And she'd get to me and I'd grab her hands and she'd be looking at me with her big brown eyes. She'll be such a lovely bride..."

The boys 'aw' and start shoving him, teasing him for being so sappy.

One of the men, with his phone up, recording the entire exchange, walks closer to his friend.

"Do you lurv her, Arthur?" The guy grins, shoving the camera in his face.

Arthur gives a drunken smile and leans impossibly close to the camera, "I really really lurrrv her."