Disclaimer: There would be more fanon Wevid if I owned Glee

Author's Note: This is possibly the most crap thing have ever written in my entire life. I was trying to do something a little different. I don't think it worked.

The Closet

No one ever questioned Wes when he had his gavel in hand. He had deadly, pinpoint accuracy and is not afraid to throw it across the room at a misbehaving Warbler. The only person who has never been hit is David. Oh, Wes will throw it at him, but his aim fails him when it comes to David. Thus, it's not surprising that ever single Warbler in the history of Warbling thought there was something going on between them, speculation that was only strengthened by their incredible bromance, the way they would greet each other at breakfast as if they were long lost friends. They were completely inseparable, doing absolutely everything together and only acted even semi-professional when they were sitting as two thirds of the Warbler Counsel. Everyone knew there was something going on between them, but they figured maybe they were scared. After all, this was Ohio.

Then Blaine had transferred to Dalton and the Warblers hoped again. When Wes and David took this damaged, gay boy under their wing, they had all thought that this may have been the beginning of their acceptance. But when still nothing happened between them, and they both got girlfriends all hope died, and the Warblers, Blaine included, agree that Wes and David were so far into the closet that they didn't have a chance of finding their way out. What none of them realised, was that Wes and David were aware they were in the closet, and had agreed to share one between them.

The first time they had kissed had been in front of their girlfriends. It wasn't a big kiss, just a peck on the lips with no other contact at the requests of their girlfriends, but it brought those looks across the choir room to a head, those flashes of bare skin that can't really be avoided when you're sharing a room with someone, the lingering glances at the pool.

For a while after that kiss, they had tried to pretend that nothing had changed, that they weren't sneaking glances as they left for the shower, or as they went to sleep. They tried to pretend that nothing had changed, but there just wasn't a level of denial strong enough for that to work. One day, as it was bound to, it all became too much to even try to handle. Wes lay on his bed, trying to work on the insane amount of homework he had, not exactly succeeding. David entered the room; school books tucked under one arm, dumping them on the nearest flat surface before standing beside Wes's bed and staring down at him.

"This has to change," David had whispered.

Silently, Wes had gotten to his feet, ignoring David's imploring gaze. He opened the doors of the large closet they shared and walked in, leaving the door ajar, inviting the other boy to follow him.

"What are we doing in a closet?" David asked as he shoved clothing out of the way, thinking for just a second that he was glad Kurt didn't keep any of his precious clothes in their room, probably because he didn't trust them not to do something stupid.

Wes stopped at the back of the closet and turned, grinning. "No one will look for us in here, and no one can hear us either."

His jaw had dropped at the sly grin on Wes's face, one usually reserved for Operation: Klaine. "What? Wes, what's going on? Why has everything been so weird?" His voice slid into sadness.

"Because of this." Wes strode forward, grabbing David's face in his hands, his calluses rough against the skin of his cheek, and pressed his lips gently against the other boy's, just like the first time. Wes tilted his head slightly, the change minuscule but the effect had been…

They stood frozen in the moment for just a second as a shot of pure lightening slammed hard into them, before lunging into action, attacking each other's mouths. David grabbed at Wes's short hair, trying to pull him closer as he devoured his lips. His mouth was warm, his lips harder than the girls he had kissed before, more rough, just like the feel of his callused fingers on his skin.

Wes slid his hands down David's shoulders, pulling him down to the floor, the clothing surrounding making the space seem smaller and more intimate. He licked and bit at his mouth, trying to convince him to just let go. He exploited every weakness, finding every week spot. Some he knew, like the way David would convulse with laughter at fingertips skimming along his ribs, but some were newly discovered, like the way he would gasp, and claw at Wes's shoulders when Wes nibbled at his ear. The dark skinned boy kissed him like he was drowning, and Wes was the only air left in the whole world.

They lay on the carpeted floor of the closet, writhing against each other, eating at each other's mouth, the only sounds the rustle of the clothes around them, and their desperate gasps from air between kissed. Oh, and the occasional moan as someone found a particularly good spot.

Lower bodies pressed together, rubbing clothed cocks against each other, David threw his head back, desperately trying not to beg. A heaviness was building in his lower stomach, and he could tell, just tell, that Wes was close to.

"Shit, Wes," he hissed, thrusting his hips up to meet Wes's downward pressure. "Are we really gonna do this?"

Wesley pulled back, panting, and raised his hips slightly, depriving David of the wonderful pressure he was coming to need. Unable to stop himself, David whimpered slightly. "Do you want me to stop?" The Asian boy asked, a teasing grin stretching across his face.

"God, no!" David cried, hands sliding down to grab hold of Wes's hips through his standard issue Dalton trousers and pull him hard into him. The sudden re-emergence of that wonderful pressure, and the heat and the warmth, even through, the pants threw them over the edge simultaneously. Vision blurring at the edges, they cried out desperately, voices melding perfectly as wave after wave of ecstasy shoved its way through them.

They panted in the sudden quiet of the closet, as they slowly fell back to earth, come-soaked underwear slowly hardening. "That was…" David panted softly, not knowing exactly what to say to his best friend, now…what were they now?

"I know," Wes struggled to reply, working hard to catch his breath and kick-start his brain.

"Are you two ready to come out of the closet now?" A high pitched, amused voice rang through the air.

"Not a chance in hell," Wes yelled back. "I like it in here. Bring me my gavel and I could live here forever."

The two boys had looked at each other for a second, taking in the rumpled clothes, the come-stained pants, the swollen lips and red bite marks, and began to laugh.

"We," David had gasped out between spasms of laughter, "are never leaving this closet."

After that, most of the Warblers knew something had changed, even if no one ever said anything. But Wes and David were happy the way they were. They were together and they knew it, they had an awesome bunch of friends, and a good shot at Regionals this year. It wasn't perfect, and it couldn't last forever like this, but for the moment they didn't need anything more than themselves and their closet.

Fin

Author's Note: Totally one of the most crap things I have ever written. I do not feel like I did Wevid justice.