A/N: This takes place in the universe of my story "We Survived the Apocalypse," specifically between chapters 19 and 20. It's immediately after the senior prom of the season 4 seniors, which takes place in chapters 18 and 19 of Apocalypse. However, you don't have to read that first, or even those two chapters. This is not a Blam story. Blaine is in it only at the very beginning and Sam not at all. I actually went back and forth quite a bit about whether to post it here or under the pen name I use for my non-Blam stuff, but I thought anyone who read Apocalypse would be more likely to see it here. There will be two chapters total.
The gym was mostly empty by the time Puck and Blaine sang the last song of the night, which was probably for the best. It had seemed like a good idea to end the prom with "Baby, Come to Me" as sung by Blaine and Sam—but that was when they were a couple. And now with Puck having to stand in for Sam, who had been dragged out of the gym by his hair earlier in the night—well, it was a bizarre number, to say the least. Blaine was crying by the time he got to the part about "I can't go back to living without you," and Puck gave a signal to the band and they just stopped.
Tina ran onto the stage to hug Blaine, while Puck announced into the microphone, "That's it, everyone, prom's over. You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here."
"Blaine, dude, come on, let's go get you wasted," Puck said after he turned the mic off. "You'll feel better."
The rest of the New Directions—minus Sam and Brittany, of course—had gathered around by now. "Yeah!" Sugar said. "My party's gonna be the best!" She sounded way cheerier than most of them felt. It hadn't really been a good prom for anyone.
"Thanks," Blaine said, looking up from Tina's embrace. "You guys are great, but I just wanna go home and go to bed. And maybe never get up."
"Well now we can't leave you alone," Puck said.
"As a teacher at this school and a chaperon at this prom, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear anything about a party, and I'm going to take Blaine home and keep an eye on him," Finn said. Blaine objected that he was fine, really, but Finn insisted and Blaine didn't fight him too hard. All the rest of the New Directions went to Sugar's, along with some of the other prom stragglers.
Sugar drove Unique and Marley because neither of them had a car or even a boyfriend, and it was just so sad, really. "I am going to help you two get lucky tonight," she reassured them. "Because otherwise my party's going to just be sad and depressing."
"I don't really want to get lucky," Marley said.
"And good luck setting me up with someone," Unique said.
"I'd go out with you if I was a lesbian," Sugar said.
"Thanks. That might make me really happy if I were a lesbian too."
"I don't understand why you let Jake go, Marley," Sugar said.
Marley ignored her. Sugar had been asking her that since...well, since they broke up before nationals. She was going for persistence, apparently, not subtlety. The thought of Sugar being subtle made her giggle out loud. "Sorry," she said when Sugar looked at her questioningly. "The idea of you being...a lesbian just struck me as funny."
Sugar laughed too. "I know! Can you see me in a Justin Bieber haircut?"
Kitty drove Artie and Ryder and Jake and Joe in her mom's minivan. "Really, Kitty? You drive a Grand Caravan?" Jake asked when he saw it. "I always pictured your vehicle as more badass."
"Sorry, my Lamborghini doesn't fit four passengers and a wheelchair."
It did fit one passenger and a folded-up wheelchair, Artie knew. Kitty had a sunny yellow VW Beetle, a convertible, in which they'd gone to a drive-in together last weekend. Not that they were exactly going out or anything. But Artie couldn't help but wish that it was just him and Kitty in the bug now. Jake was such a dumbass.
"I don't know about this party, guys," Joe said for like the millionth time. "Kitty, maybe you should just drop me off at my house."
"Forget it," Kitty said. "If I have to go to a gleek party, then no one gets to weasel out of it."
"Except Blaine and Sam," Jake said.
"Special circumstances," Kitty insisted. "Joe, have you knocked anyone up? Or been recently dumped by a boyfriend who knocked someone up?"
"Of course not!"
"Then you're going to Sugar's party."
Ryder turned to look at him in the way-back seat. "Don't worry, man. No one will peer pressure you to do anything you don't want to."
"No promises," Kitty muttered. Artie was the only one who heard.
Puck and Tina went together in Tina's car, but she let Puck drive since he seemed to feel like he should since they were on a date and he was the guy. Tina didn't agree with the premise, but she didn't see any point in getting offended by it either. It actually was really nice of him to ask her to prom and, besides that, they had probably had a better time than any of the actual couples.
Not that there actually were any New Directions couples anymore, now that she thought about it, unless you counted Sam and Brittany. Could you even say they were a couple? True, they were engaged, but...well, anyway, Brittany hadn't come to prom at all, and Sam hadn't stayed long. Marley and Jake had broken up and neither of them had started going out with anyone else like, oh, let's say Ryder. Artie and Kitty weren't officially a couple, though Tina didn't give it long before they were.
Puck pulled into the circular driveway, and they just sat there for a minute looking at the house. "Wow, I've never been here before," Tina said. "It's really..."
"Big," Puck said. It was true—it was a three-story house. Who the hell has a three-story house in Lima, Ohio? Not that they were probably technically in Lima anymore; the house was pretty secluded, surrounded by woods on all sides.
"I was gonna say gaudy," Tina said. It had pink and gold trim. For real. Tina knew her own style had at times been a bit over-the-top, but that was just clothes. And she was a teenager. She sincerely hoped that by the time she was a megarich adult she would have the good taste to go for something a bit more classically elegant in a house. But whatever. For a post-prom party, gaudiness and conspicuous consumption were probably good traits in a host.
It wasn't as gaudy inside—at least not in the rooms they had seen so far, namely, the living room, dining room, and kitchen—but it was big inside. Spacious rooms, high ceilings...Sugar was able to stand on the island that separated the dining room from the kitchen without even having to duck to avoid the hanging lights above her head. She was up there yelling, pointing out the various punchbowls and saying what was in each one. "And the liquor bottles are right here," she concluded, gesturing with her foot to where they were lined up next to her on the island, "if you want to mix your own concoction. Just don't put anything in the punchbowls—they're filled with my dead grandma's recipes and she'd roll over in her grave if anyone fucked with them." She jumped down off the island, hesitated a second, and then clambered back up to add, "And haunt you! She'll haunt you if you fuck with her recipes. I'm looking at you, Noah Puckerman."
Puck raised his hands innocently. "I don't fuck with dead grandmas. Besides, four of the five punches are already spiked—that's like, what? Ninety-five percent? That's good enough for me."
Sugar hopped down again and put some music on. Puck put his arm around Tina's shoulder. "What kind of punch would you like? Or would you like me to mix you up a Puckerman special?"
"No, I'll go," Tina said, "I'm closer. What kind do you want?"
"Yeah, I think I'm gonna have to go with the bright green one, because...wow."
He watched Tina go in the kitchen and ladle some of the nearly chartreuse liquid into a glass for him and some of one of the red punches into a glass for herself. The nonalcoholic one, he thought. He didn't really think anything of it until she came back with the glasses, took a sip of hers, and went, "Wow! That is really strong!"
"Yeah? Can I taste it?"
Tina downed the rest of the glass in one go. "Sorry, what?"
"Never mind." Puck couldn't help being a little offended. Unless maybe he was wrong. "Hey, excuse me for a sec. I have to ask Sugar something."
"Okay." Tina turned and started dancing with...the drummer dude? Sugar had invited the band guys? Weird.
He tracked Sugar down in the kitchen. "How do you like the green punch?" she asked him.
He hadn't actually tried it yet, so he took a sip now. "Wow. It tastes like your grandma liked Mountain Dew and lime Kool-Aid."
"And vodka and Midori."
"Yum," Puck said, forcing down another sip. He was so going to switch to Jack and Cokes he could mix himself. "Hey, I wanted to ask you: Which one is the nonalcoholic punch again?"
"No, I'm serious, Puck. I promised Joe there would be at least one he could drink."
"I'm not gonna spike it. I swear on my nana's grave."
Sugar looked at him skeptically. "I thought your nana was alive."
"My other one, I mean. The one who isn't alive." The one who wasn't alive he only vaguely remembered, but enough to know she was a mean, nasty bitch. But he still wasn't lying about not planning to spike the punch.
"All right...It's that one." She pointed at the red punch Tina had gotten her own drink from. Just as he thought.
So...what the hell? Puck knew he had a not-totally undeserved reputation. And he and Tina had never really gotten to know each other that well. But they'd been in glee together for three years and they'd been having what he thought was a decent enough date.
If she had just not felt like drinking or something that would be one thing. But why would she try to make him think she was drinking? Did she really think he'd pressure her if she wasn't? That maybe he wanted to get her drunk and take advantage of her? He had never stooped to getting a girl drunk just so he could fuck her. If a girl didn't want to be fucked by him sober, then it was her loss.
Marley marched into the kitchen and got herself a glass of the punch Tina had been drinking. "Damn!" she said after she took a sip. "Is this the nonalcoholic one?"
"Uh huh," Puck told her. He watched as she poured it down the sink and filled her glass from the other bowl of red punch. "I thought you didn't drink."
"I don't. Or I didn't, when I was with your brother."
"That's...really smart." He didn't think Jake would try to get a girl drunk so he could take advantage of her now. But when he and Marley had first started dating...he wasn't sure if he would have put it past him.
"Yeah. I should have realized that if I had to take those kinds of precautions with him that maybe I shouldn't be with him."
"Is that why you broke up with him?" Puck tried to ask in a neutral way, even an encouraging way. It really bugged him that Jake wouldn't even tell him, his own brother, what happened.
"It should've been," Marley said. She filled another glass with the red punch and left Puck to find Unique. They were drinking buddies tonight. Neither one was going to let the other do anything stupid.
It looked like Marley was going to have her work cut out for her. When she found Unique she was holding a half-empty bottle of peach schnapps she had apparently appropriated as her own. "Marley, honey, Unique is having her first kiss tonight," she declared.
"Oh? Who's the lucky guy?"
"That is up to fate to decide. We are going to play spin the bottle."
Sugar draped an arm around Unique, making her jump. "I'll be your first kiss," she offered.
"First of all, never sneak up on Unique like that! Second, I thought we had established that neither of us is a lesbian. Now if you're intent on experimenting—"
"You can't start a game of spin the bottle yet," Sugar said. "No one's drunk yet. Wait an hour at least. Marley, can I get you another drink?"
"Thanks. Get me whatever Tina's having, because she certainly seems to be having fun."
Tina was up on the counter twerking. A few people had gathered around to cheer her on. And Puck, who wasn't really cheering, just watching with interest. When Tina slipped and lost her balance, he caught her and carried her to a couch in a quiet corner of the living room, where he set her down before he sat next to her.
She crawled onto his lap and rested her head against his. "Thank you, Puckie! I guess I got a little tipsy," she said.
"Did you now?"
"Uh huh." She looked at him with unfocused eyes for a minute before she reached out and ruffled his mohawk. "You're cute."
"Thank you." Puck smiled at her. "You're cute too."
"Awww...Puckie! You are so...sweet!" She touched the back of his neck and then, giving him that unfocused look again, lightly traced his lips with her fingertip. "So sweet and sexy," she whispered.
"You know, Tina, I don't think I've ever seen you this flirty before."
"You've probably never seen me this drunk before."
"Actually I've seen you exactly this drunk before," Puck told her, straight faced. "Because you're not drunk at all."
"I am," she protested, giggling.
"I've been watching you all night. You haven't had a drop of alcohol."
Tina looked in his eyes and saw she was busted. She slid off his lap and just said, "Oh."
"So I'm really wondering what's with the act."
"Well, see, being drunk is fun. Everyone has more fun when they're drunk, right? The problem is, alcohol makes me sick, like, before I even get to the fun part. So sometimes I skip the actual drinking and go right to the fun...and then no one can even blame me afterwards for anything stupid I did because, hey, I was drunk."
"So...Rachel's famous party? And the whole, like, week after?"
"Acting. Even the hangovers."
Puck processed this information and considered how he felt about it. "I'm impressed," he decided. "And don't worry, I won't tell anyone...if you don't tell anyone I'm not drinking tonight either. Well, except a couple sips of that disgusting green punch."
"Why aren't you? I thought you loved to drink."
"It seemed rude to get hammered if my date wasn't. But you're right, normally I'm a total heathen."
"Uh, you mean hedonist?"
"What's the difference?" Puck asked.
"A hedonist is someone who's only interested in pleasure and debauchery. A heathen is someone who isn't religious. Or doesn't belong to the right religion, the religion of the person who's calling them a heathen. It's like, if you're Jewish the goyim are heathens."
"Wait, how do you know that word?"
"What, goyim? Is it a closely guarded secret or something? Besides, you do know my parents are Jewish, right?"
"What!?"
"I mean, non-practicing, but..."
"There were two hot Jewish girls in glee club all this time and I didn't even know it?"
"You know..." Tina messed with his mohawk again. "If I were drunk—or if I still thought you thought I was—I'd probably jump you."
"But see, I wouldn't fuck you if I thought you were only interested cause you were drunk. If I learned anything from Quinn it's that if a girl's doing something she wouldn't do sober, it's not worth it."
"And hopefully something about birth control too, right?"
"That too," Puck agreed. "And anyway, girls don't enjoy sex as much when they're drunk. They might be more willing, but they never come as hard."
"Yeah, well..." Tina looked away.
Puck waited but eventually had to prompt her. "Yeah well what?"
"Yeah, well, I don't...do that anyway."
"You don't what? Come?"
Tina shrugged like it was no big deal. "Nope."
"Never?"
"It's not that I didn't enjoy having sex with Mike. I just never...It's not like it was his fault or anything, I just don't think I can."
"Bullshit. You can."
"No, Mike really tried..."
"I'm sure he did. But, see, this is why virgins shouldn't fuck other virgins. There needs to be at least one person who knows what the hell they're doing."
"Mike wasn't a virgin before me though. He slept with Brittany a couple times and—"
"Yeah, well Brittany can have multiple orgasms if you just look at her a certain way."
Tina shrugged again. "I suggested once that we smoke a joint together first, but he was way too paranoid about his parents finding out. Do you think it might have helped, if he'd been willing to try it?"
"Maybe. But I don't think you would really need it."
"Well. I guess we'll never know." She leaned toward him conspiratorially. "I feel like acting drunk and crazy again. You in?"
Puck stood and held out his hand for her. "No one would believe I'm that drunk this early. But I'll play along while you act as crazy as you want."
"Thanks, Puckie," she said, wobbling as she stood. She accompanied each word with a dramatic jab to his chest as she said, "You are seriously the best prom date ever."
"Can I get you another drink?" he asked with a wink.
"Thanks, prom date!" Tina said. When he was halfway to the kitchen she yelled, "Make it a double cause I wanna par-tay!"
Puck turned to give her a thumbs-up and saw she already had an arm flung around Ryder and was cracking up at something that probably wasn't that funny. But she knew what she was doing and was obviously enjoying herself, so whatever.
Marley and Jake were in the kitchen, Marley sitting on the counter next to the red punch—not the nonalcoholic one—and Jake leaning against the refrigerator. They were having a heated discussion that abruptly stopped when they saw Puck coming. Marley dipped her glass directly into the punch to refill it and drank the contents in one big gulp. "Puck, would you tell your brother for me that I have nothing to say to him?"
Puck glanced at Jake and then back at Marley. "Pretty sure he heard you."
"And tell him that I'd rather sleep with...with you than with him."
Puck nodded. "Most girls would."
"Fuck you, man," Jake said, but without any anger.
Marley leaned forward and grabbed Puck's shirt collar to pull him closer. "You wanna know why I dumped your brother?"
Puck nodded while Jake just said, "Seriously, Marley?"
"Yes, seriously, Jake. You were dead serious when you threatened me."
"Dude, you what!?" Puck said.
"I didn't threaten her," Jake assured his brother. He repeated himself to Marley: "I didn't threaten you. Stop making me sound like an abusive douchebag."
"No. Just a regular douchebag," Marley told him. Then, remembering she wasn't talking to Jake, she turned back to Puck. "What he threatened was that if I didn't 'give it up' for him he would get his 'needs' met elsewhere."
"Oh," Puck said, relieved. It sounded like the oldest and boringest relationship dilemma ever.
"I didn't threaten," Jake said. "I floated the idea." He vaguely noted that Puck was ducking out of the kitchen.
"Floated the idea, please! Floating an idea is like, 'Hey, hypothetically what would you think if I wanted to do such and such.' You gave me a...a damn ultimatum."
"Uh-oh, Marley's wild and dangerous tonight! First drinking, now swearing—where will it end, Marley? Are you gonna open your legs for some random guy just to teach me a lesson?...Ow! Jesus Christ! Fucking cunt!"
Jake had just discovered that a glassful of Sugar's dead grandma's punch in the face hurt way worse than a slushee. It wasn't as cold, but the alcohol really fucking stung if it got in your eyes.
He groped his way to the sink, knocking over a few half-full glasses and spewing a steady stream of invective. He turned on the cold water, found the sprayer, and sprayed water directly into his eyes. He felt hands on his shoulders and shrugged them off. "Apology not accepted. Stay the fuck away from me."
"If that's what you want, man, but what am I supposedly apologizing for?" The voice wasn't Marley's. It was Ryder's.
Jake stopped squirting his eyes. He turned around and dried his face on Ryder's jacket. "Sorry, I thought you were Marley, the girl who just threw a drink in my eyes."
"Girls, man," Ryder said, shaking his head. "They'll fuck you up."
"Tell me about it. Is she still here?"
"No." Ryder slapped him on the shoulder. "Come on."
"Where are we going?"
"Your shirt and jacket are soaked. There's gotta be a dry shirt somewhere in this house that fits you." He led Jake up a grand staircase to the second floor, where they found the master bedroom—well, it was more of a suite—they found the master suite easily. It was all blue and silver inside—silver as in not just the color but the actual metal, as far as Ryder could tell—and with mirrors everywhere. He sat Jake on the edge of the ginormous bed, which had an elaborate silver frame and a deep cobalt-blue velvet cover of some sort. "Just wait here," he told him. "I'll find something for you."
Ryder opened one door that led to a large bathroom—much larger than his bedroom—with a jacuzzi in the center. The next door he tried was a dressing room/walk-in closet full of women's clothes. Behind the third door was a man's walk-in closet. It was the smallest of the three room's he'd looked at, about the equivalent of his bedroom. He wondered what Sugar's dad would miss the least. Then he realized it was extremely unlikely that he'd miss any shirt, at least for the short amount of time Jake would have it before returning it to Sugar on Monday. He tugged a plain black polo off its hanger and took it out to Jake.
When he came out of the closet Jake was already shirtless and...and wow. There was no reason they couldn't be messing around now...if Jake still wanted to, that was. Ryder was the one holding things up. He had been hurt—was still hurt—that Jake only saw him as a convenient way to satisfy his sexual urges until Marley was ready.
It wasn't like Ryder was in love with Jake or anything. The guy could be kind of an ass, for one thing. Like when they shared a room at nationals and they almost...but then Jake had to make a big point of saying, "You know this doesn't mean I'm gay, right?" Like, yeah, Ryder, your mouth feels awesome and everything, but I'm not really into it. I'm just really horny and you're willing.
So, like, if he could just shut the fuck up about how not gay he was and admit that he enjoyed their fooling around...Ryder didn't want Jake to marry him for God's sake. He didn't even want him to make a big public declaration—not even a fucking private declaration—that he was full-on gay.
There was nothing wrong with swinging both ways. Just because Ryder was pretty sure now that he was at least 90 percent gay, that didn't mean Jake had to be.
"Here," he said, throwing the shirt more at than to Jake.
"So you're mad at me too, now?" Jake asked, setting the shirt down on the bed.
Ryder sighed. "Not really."
"I would deserve it if you were. I've been a pretty big dick to you."
Ryder sat next to him on the bed but looked straight ahead. "That is true."
"Marley was my girlfriend. I couldn't...I didn't want to leave her for you."
Ryder laughed bitterly. "I got that message loud and clear."
"I'm not making anything better, am I?"
"Is that what you're trying to do?"
Jake placed a hand on Ryder's forearm. "Yes! I want you back as a friend, Ry. And...and I want you as a lover."
Ryder waited. He knew there was a but or a qualifier of some sort coming. But instead, when Jake broke the silence it was to say, "You're not interested anymore? I blew my chance with you?"
"I'm just...Where's the part about why this doesn't make you gay?"
"The part that doesn't make me gay is that I like girls—"
"Yeah, more than guys. I know."
"More than guys in general. But not more than you. And whatever that makes me...I don't care anymore."
Ryder studied him. "Wait...are you drunk? You're drunk, aren't you?"
Jake laughed. "Dude, I've had like one and a half drinks. I'm not even buzzed."
"Aha! But see, you just called me dude, so—" Ryder found he couldn't finish his sentence. It was difficult to speak with Jake's tongue in his mouth. Moreover he found he no longer had any desire to speak.
Jake pushed him so he was lying on his back. He tried to scoot back so his legs weren't dangling over the edge, but then Jake was on top of him. Jake was straddling him, untying his tie and then unbuttoning his shirt. He placed both hands on Ryder's chest and started moving them around slowly and just...touching everywhere, and watching while he touched. His touch was lighter than Ryder would have expected, and it sent shivers through him. And the expression on Jake's face was...it was almost like he was baffled or something. Baffled to find himself caressing—because that's really what he was doing, Ryder realized—another guy's chest.
"Sorry I don't have any boobs," Ryder said. "But at least I'll let you feel me up as much as you want."
"Stop," Jake said, holding one of Ryder's nipples between two fingers.
"Stop what?"
"Stop thinking I'm only using you as a convenient substitute for what I really want. I'm not, okay? Do I have to suck your dick before you believe me?"
Ryder had trouble processing the question at the end. Was that just a rhetorical question, or was it a legitimate offer? Because if it was a legitimate offer...holy fuck. "Uh...it couldn't hurt?"
Jake stood up and smirked for just a second before he removed Ryder's pants and underwear and threw them somewhere in the middle of the room. Scooting to the middle of the bed created the strangest sensation—Ryder had never slid his bare ass across velvet before. It was weird but kind of awesome.
The velvet wasn't nearly as awesome as Jake's mouth though. Jake situated himself between Ryder's legs and placed soft kisses up the length of his cock, and if he was trying to drive Ryder insane with gentle touches that just made him crave more, then he was doing an amazing job. Because the kisses he was giving him—if they were somewhere other than on his dick they'd be totally chaste. But they were on his dick, his dick that kept proving him wrong each time he thought it couldn't possibly get any harder, and Ryder kind of felt like he was going to die.
But before he could die Jake finally, finally started using his tongue, all warm and wet, and Ryder swore he could even feel the little bumps on it, the taste buds or whatever. He licked up and down Ryder's length, firmly, and when he licked up the precome covering his head he stopped for just a second to say, "Fuck, Ryder, you taste good."
"Christ, Jake."
And then Ryder's cock was actually inside Jake's mouth, Jake's lips forming a tight seal around the shaft, his tongue circling the glans. By the time he started applying actual suction Ryder was already so close to losing it... "Oh God, oh fuck, Jake, I'm gonna..."
Jake pulled off and said, "Not yet." Ryder whined, and Jake chuckled at him. "So eager. But you can wait just a little longer. It's our first time, I want us to come together." He stood up and stripped out of his pants and underwear, throwing them on top of Ryder's.
Ryder had seen Jake naked before, so he already knew that the sight of his friend's—and now lover's—cock did things to him. But this time because of all the mirrors in the room he could see Jake's whole body from every angle at once and it was just...just perfection. Except one thing.
"You look amazing, Jake. Except lose the black socks."
"I could say the same to you. And your shirt, take it all the way off."
Ryder caught a glimpse of himself in one of the mirrors, and he did look a bit silly with just an unbuttoned shirt and black socks on. He also saw that his skin was flushed, his hair was a wreck, and his eyes looked half-crazy. So yeah, a pretty accurate reflection.
Both boys having discarded their last articles of clothing, Jake returned to the bed and crawled over to Ryder. He licked from Ryder's ankle to his knee to his balls, which made Ryder gasp and bunch up a fistful of the velvet blanket thing. "Jake..."
Jake stopped what he was doing and looked up. "What?"
"Why'd you stop?"
"You said my name, I thought you wanted to tell me something."
"What? No, 'Jake' is all I got. Keep going, man."
"As you wish." He resumed licking Ryder's balls. He slowly sucked one into his mouth while tickling the other with his fingers. Ryder put his hands on Jake's head and wished he had longer hair, because he really needed to grab something. And then Jake switched—he sucked in the other ball and tickled the one that had been in his mouth first—and Ryder couldn't take it anymore.
"Jake?"
Jake just kept sucking on his ball. He moved his hand onto Ryder's cock, and Jesus.
"Jake!"
Jake hummed this time, sending delicious vibrations through Ryder's balls and cock, but he still didn't stop or respond.
Ryder actually had to move his head away. "Jake!"
"What? You got more than 'Jake' this time?"
"Yeah, I got more than 'Jake' this time. I got, 'Jake, please tell me you're gonna fuck me, cause I need your cock in me bad.'"
"Are you sure you wanna jump straight to that? Cause I've never done a dude before."
"That's okay. I've never been done by a dude before."
"Yeah, but—"
"I'm sure, Jake." He almost added "if you're sure," but he didn't want to give Jake an easy out.
To his relief, Jake didn't seem to be looking for an out. He was looking for something else, in Sugar's dad's bedside table. "I can't believe I went to prom without a condom. This dude's gotta have one, though, right?"
"Won't we need lube too?" Ryder asked, though he'd watched enough porn to know they would. He rolled over to the other side of the bed and started looking through the other bedside table. "Holy shit!"
Jake crawled over to see what Ryder was holy-shitting about. Sugar's dad was one kinky dude, apparently. Condoms and lube, yes, plus handcuffs, blindfolds, dildos in various sizes, and a bunch of stuff Ryder wasn't even sure about. "Wow," Jake agreed.
Ryder was about to question whether it was such a good idea to do this in the bed of an old pervert who was the father of one of their friends. But then Jake was lying on top of him, his hard cock pressing into his ass, and he was kissing the back of his neck, and it was kind of hard to remember what it was he was squeamish about.
Jake selected an unscented lube, tore a condom off the roll, and closed the drawer. He had a feeling if Ryder kept looking around in there he was going to freak out and have second thoughts. He kissed down Ryder's back and as much of his ass as he could without actually rimming him, which he was also worried might freak out his...his boyfriend? Yeah, his boyfriend.
He nudged his boyfriend's leg's apart and took a moment to look in awe at his boyfriend's little virgin hole. Of all the people Jake had been with, he'd never been anyone's first. And of all the times he'd done someone up the ass—not that many, but more than a couple—this was the first time he'd really cared about making it good for the other person. He took more time with the prepping than he ever had before, and he even tried to make that good for Ryder, not just a necessary first step before he could start fucking.
Ryder squirmed and moaned under him. Jake's fingers in his ass—even though he was taking forever, they felt so fucking good. At one point Jake hit a certain spot that made him yelp and thrust against the mattress. He hit that spot again and again, and between what Jake's fingers were doing inside him and his dick sliding across velvet, it was a wonder he didn't come immediately. "Jake, please! Whatever you're doing in there, you gotta do it with your cock!"
"Soon," Jake promised him. He couldn't wait much longer either—his cock ached and was leaking precome—but he wanted to make really sure Ryder was ready. It wasn't until Ryder threatened to come without him—and totally sounded like he meant it—that he relented. He put a condom on, slathered it in lube, and pressed his cock against Ryder's entrance. "Ready, babe?"
"Dude, if you make me beg for it I'll never forgive you."
Jake flipped Ryder over onto his back. "'Dude'? You're seriously calling me 'dude' at a time like this?" But when he saw how desperate Ryder looked he regretted teasing him.
"Jake, come on. Please..."
Oh yeah, making Ryder beg for his cock would be hot. But he wasn't cruel enough to do it now; he'd save it for another time. "Shh, shh, okay baby."
He had always taken girls from behind when he did them anally, but now that he had Ryder on his back he realized he really wanted to see his face while he was fucking him. "Hold your knees up," he instructed him, and as soon as he did, there was his tight, welcoming entrance again. Jesus. He lined himself up and started to push in slowly, watching Ryder's face the whole time.
And Christ, the guy looked...he looked fucking beautiful. And so it killed him when Ryder looked like he was in pain. "You okay, baby?" he asked more than once. Ryder kept saying he was, but Jake wasn't sure. Even though he wanted to bury his cock deep inside his boyfriend more than almost anything, he told him, "I can't, Ry, it's hurting you too much."
"No, no, please don't stop. It always hurts the first time, right? But pretty soon it'll feel good too. Right?"
"I don't know, actually," Jake had to admit. He'd really been kind of an asshole to everyone he ever fucked before.
"Just...just don't stop, please. If I start to bleed or I start to cry, then you can stop."
"That's a pretty low bar, Ry."
Ryder laughed at that, which actually helped with the pain, even as it caused Jake to abruptly slip in farther. "Or if I tell you it's too much. Which I promise to do if it's too much."
"Can I make it easier for you somehow?"
Ryder opened his eyes and saw how worriedly Jake was looking down at him. It was sweet and everything, but it was also making him kind of self-conscious. "Kiss me?"
Jake smiled and leaned down to do just that. His mouth felt really good, and if Ryder was whimpering into it more than he was actually kissing back, Jake didn't complain.
The pressure in his ass was still really intense, and Ryder found himself clawing at Jake, digging his fingers into his back, his sides, his ass. Once or twice Jake jerked a little from a strong dig, but he didn't seem to mind.
After a while Ryder realized Jake wasn't pushing in anymore—and just when he was starting to really like the way his cock felt in him. "Why'd you stop?" he asked in dismay.
"Can't go any farther."
"Oh! Well, you're the expert here, not me, but then aren't you supposed to pull out and push back in?"
"Believe me, it is killing me not to pull out and push back in. I'm giving you time to adjust."
"Oh. Then I guess you may as well keep kissing me while we're waiting."
"I guess so." Jake sucked on his boyfriend's lower lip before he grabbed a handful of his hair and thrust his tongue into his mouth. He couldn't fuck his cock in and out of his ass yet, but he could fuck his tongue in and out of his mouth until Ryder was half-crazy. By the time he moved on to his neck, Ryder was gasping and writhing under him, and he had his hand's on Jake's ass, trying to pull him deeper into himself. "You feel adjusted yet? You ready for me to fuck you?"
"God, Jake, please."
Finally getting to move was such a fucking relief. Ryder was so warm and tight and just seemed to grip his cock perfectly. He still held back—he didn't fuck him as hard and fast as he would have loved to—but even fucking him slow and gentle was so amazing.
Getting fucked didn't hurt anymore, and it was starting to feel really good. Ryder was so tuned in to how Jake's cock felt in him that he almost wasn't even thinking about his own—until Jake's hand was on it. First he was just lightly teasing the tip, just spreading the precome around, and that was awesome enough, but then he had his whole hand wrapped around it and was stroking him in time with his thrusts, and Jesus fuck! He was moving more forcefully against Jake, and suddenly—"Oh fuck, right there! Right there!" Jake hit that spot, and Ryder desperately needed him to keep doing it.
"Yeah, that was good?"
"Not even kidding, Jake, you've gotta keep hitting me right there, but a lot harder."
Jake wasn't actually sure where he had hit Ryder that was so good, but he kept trying to find it again until he made him dig his fingers deep in his ass and cry out, "There! Fuck, right there!"
"You want it harder, baby?"
"Yes! Don't even tease, just nail me hard right there!"
He did, and it felt so good to stop holding back so much that he almost lost it right away. But he really wanted them to come together so he kept holding back on that, at least. But Jesus, he had to get Ryder to come soon or he wasn't going to make it. He started jerking him furiously. "Come with me, Ry," he urged. "Let me see you shoot your wad while I unload in your amazing, tight ass."
It was all so much—Jake's cock nailing him, his hand jerking him, how long he'd been waiting for this to happen—that as soon as Jake told him to come he fell apart. He arched off the bed—he practically levitated—as he climaxed. He roared with his release, screaming and panting and becoming oblivious to everything else, even the fact that Jake was coming at the same time.
Jake stilled as Ryder's walls squeezed him tight and sucked his load out of him. As Ryder kept coming and coming, Jake kept throbbing inside him, his whole body trembling. Ryder's face was gorgeous when he came—Jake had never seen such unadulterated pleasure on anyone before.
As suddenly as he'd started to come, Ryder fell back on the bed and all his muscles relaxed. His chest was covered in jizz, and he opened his eyes to see a positively wrecked Jake collapsed on top of him. As soon as he caught his breath he asked, "So it was okay?"
"Smartass," Jake said. "If I had any strength I'd..."
"You'd what?"
"Huh?"
"Never mind. Just do something with the condom before you fall asleep."
"Ugh. Fine." Jake rolled off him, took the condom off, and flung it in the direction of the bathroom.
"Oh my God, Jake, that's so gross."
"What? I tied it first. I'll pick it up later."
Ryder decided to believe him, although he hadn't seen him tie it. But he didn't want to get up and check, and he wouldn't be able to drift off for a cozy little nap if he thought that maybe the thing wasn't tied, so...
He did drift off—head resting on Jake's chest, the two of them wrapped in soft, warm blue velvet—as he realized when he woke up to Sugar banging on the door and yelling. "I know you're in there, Jyder! My dad is going to kill you if there's santorum on the sheets!"
He looked up at Jake and asked, "We didn't get santorum on the sheets, did we?"
"Nah. Just a little jizz. After you feel asleep I cleaned your chest off with one of the pillow cases."
"Thanks, man."
"The sheets are santorum-free!" Jake yelled back at her.
"We're playing spin-the-bottle, are you guys coming?"
Jake said softly, "Not now, but we might be again soon if you leave us alone," right before he started kissing Ryder's neck again.
"No thanks!" Ryder yelled.