This is an outtake I wrote quite a few months back for DTD. As you can see from the pairing, it's not CarlWard. It's a sort-of-prequel one shot to DTD (years before DTD takes place), but you can consider it canon or not, I don't mind either way. I still haven't quite decided myself whether or not this actually happened. It was just fun to write.
Anyway, Garrett decides to get experimental. Carlisle helps him out. M-rated for the obvious.
KarenEC and Bedelia pre-read this for me, so a huge thank you to them!
"Come on, it'll be fun!"
This is how every disastrous occasion with my best mate starts. With him telling me how fun it will be.
"Okay, fine. But don't complain to me when it all goes wrong."
"Excellent. I'll meet you at my place at seven. Oh, Carlisle? Don't wear leather, or I'll disown you."
He hangs up, and I lie back on my bed.
Garrett's excellent plan for tonight is that we visit a gay club in Soho. I have been out of the closet for a couple of years or so, but never quite mustered up the courage to visit London's gay scene. It's not really my style, and I've never wanted for company anyway.
He is determined that I try it, though, insisting that I might find the love of my life there. I don't give a shit about doing that – I'm only twenty-one – but it could be fun, I guess. Now that Gar is coming too, it should be a good night, no matter where we have it.
I have a quick power nap before getting ready to go out. I live with my parents on the outskirts of London, too poor to move out straight after university. Garrett's parents are well-off, and paid for his flat while he was studying in the city. His dad works in banking, and Garrett has followed in his footsteps after getting his degree. I can't imagine him ever being serious enough to work in that kind of industry, but there we go. Family connections pay off.
His flat works out quite well for me, though, as it gives me somewhere to crash when I need to get away. We have planned for me to stay there tonight, as getting back to my house from the city centre is an absolute ball ache. I stay there so often that I keep some stuff there, too, so I don't even have to worry about packing a bag.
I change into some smart jeans and a fairly tight t-shirt. I don't know what "normal" attire is for these places, but I'm sure as hell not turning up covered in baby oil and not much else – that was Garrett's suggestion. My hair causes me a few problems – it's getting a bit long, really, but it's too late to do anything about that now.
My parents are still at work, so I scribble them a quick note before heading out to Garrett's place. It takes an hour or so on various forms of germ-ridden, sweaty, public transport, and I feel so grimy when I finally arrive.
I fucking hate public transport.
Garrett knows this, and offers me the use of his shower, which I gladly accept. I shouldn't have changed into my clothes for the evening before I left my house. My best friend is one step ahead of me, as always, and by the time I'm out of the shower, my clothes are in for a quick wash and tumble dry.
I knew I kept him around for a reason.
He's left me some of his clothes out, and I change into them before meeting him in his living room, where there is a beer waiting for me. He'd be the perfect boyfriend if he wasn't straight.
"I didn't want you to freak out and start crying because you were putting dirty clothes back on," he says. "Walking into a club with a sobbing man is not the way I want to start my evening. People will get the wrong impression."
I roll my eyes, but don't rise to the bait. He is actually washing my clothes for me, to be fair to him.
We watch a bit of TV while we drink steadily and wait for my clothes to be ready. Garrett tells me about some of the assholes he has to deal with in work, and I pray to God I never have a job where biting my tongue is an integral part of my day. I think I'd go mad.
By the time my clothes are done, we are both quite tipsy, and we head out straight away. It's still a little early, but I'd rather not walk in when it is packed with bodies. I'd rather get slowly acclimatised.
The chilly night sobers us up a little as we walk to the club, and I shiver a little. Garrett grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. He's never been remotely bothered about being affectionate towards me. He's never felt threatened or freaked out by being around me. If anything, he has been more touchy-feely since I came out. He knows where we stand, as do I, and we're both perfectly okay with how we behave around each other.
"Are you okay? We don't have to do this. We can go to a club where there are women; I definitely wouldn't mind doing that."
He grins at me. I have absolutely no doubt he would be more than fine being surrounded by women. We went to different universities, but I've heard so many stories about his antics while he was studying. I'm surprised he ever came out the other end of the three years with a degree.
I squeeze his hand back, before dropping it.
"No, let's do this. If it's awful, then we leave. No big deal. It's not like I won't be allowed to be gay any more if I hate it."
There is a small queue to get in and I take in the array of people around us. Some are in groups, some in couples, and some seem to be alone.
I wonder if people think that Garrett and I are a couple.
His hand rubs my arm reassuringly as we show our passports as ID before we are let in. The bouncer waves us in, and we step over the threshold together.
No sirens go off, we are not looked at like we have no right to be there, and we're not pounced on immediately by half naked men. That's three of my fears abated already, and we're only one step inside.
We head to the bar immediately. Garrett orders us a couple of shots each, and I get us something that will last a little longer.
Taking a seat, we look out at the people already here. Some are dressed exactly how I would expect them to be – not many clothes at all. Most, however, are dressed just like Garrett and me. It makes me relax a bit, and Garrett smiles, noticing my reaction.
"See anyone you like?"
He is desperate to get me laid.
"No, I'm not really here for that, though, Gar."
He just nods, and looks back out towards the sea of people. More and more people are arriving, and the dance floor is starting to fill up. I haven't yet drunk enough to make me want to go out and join them, but the urge is growing.
After a few minutes Garrett shuffles along the bench towards me.
"You know, it's not something I've ever thought about before, but some of those guys look really hot dancing together."
I look at him, expecting him to see a glint in his eyes which will let me know he is kidding.
There is no glint.
I swallow nervously, before I reply.
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah." He stares out at the people dancing in front of us, before standing abruptly.
"I'm going to get us another couple of shots. Then we're dancing. Me and you."
I gaze at his back as he strides off towards the bar. I have absolutely no idea what to make of his declaration, or his plans for us. He has never shown any interest in men before, and I'm fairly sure whatever is happening right now is a one-time thing. He is all about the women, usually.
He brings us back a couple of shots, and doesn't even sit down while we drink them.
"Come on. We're dancing."
He grabs my hand, and pulls me up and over to the dancefloor, keeping us near the edge. He knows I would fucking hate being in the middle of a mass of sweaty bodies.
We start off slowly, his hand still holds mine and he places them on his hip as we starts to move together. Dancing isn't really my forte, but Garrett is incredible at it, so I let him lead.
The bass line of the music is reverberating through our bodies as we dance. The song is one that we've known for years, and we laugh as we start to sing along. His hand leaves mine, and I feel my waist surrounded my heat suddenly, as his hands rest there.
I now have an awkward arm, so I bring it up to his face, hesitating until he gives me a nod. I run my thumb over his cheekbone and eventually lay my hand over his shoulder, playing with his hair a little.
He's my best friend, and while I've never even considered looking at him in this way before, he is ridiculously handsome. The air of confidence he has does a lot for him, too, and even though he must be so far out of his comfort zone right now, he hasn't lost it.
His hands move down slightly, and his thumbs sneak under my t-shirt. He freezes, looking to me for acceptance before he continues. He is stroking my skin, slowly, and I move closer to him, needing more contact.
My hand leaves his hip, and goes to join my other one, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. He grins at me, and I give him a shy smile back. I'm still not entirely sure what's going on, but I don't want it to stop.
Garrett closes the gap between us even further, and shouts into my ear. "We don't have to do anything, if you think it'd be weird. But... I'm curious. It won't change things, I mean, it won't change me. It could be fun though?"
I pull back to look at him and he smiles at me, hope in his eyes. He leans back in, to continue.
"If you think it'd make our friendship odd, then we won't do it. But it's only one night. We can both separate sex from love, from friendship."
He's right, as usual. I'm fairly sure we won't find this awkward tomorrow, we've known each other for years.
I nod.
Garrett grins, triumphant, and immediately brings his lips to mine. He tastes like alcohol, unsurprisingly, but I can't keep myself from wanting more. My tongue darts out to meet his, and his fingernails dig into my side as he groans.
My hands are running up and down his back, pausing occasionally to grab a fistful of his t-shirt. As he moved closer to speak to me, our hips are now aligned and he is rubbing against me, under the pretence of dancing.
I can see the lights flashing behind my eyelids, the floor is vibrating with the sound level of the music, and we are being jostled by everyone around us. Despite everything, though, we are completely lost in each other. Both so aware this is only ever going to be for one night, and trying to soak everything in.
Eventually, we are bumped so hard we have to part. Garrett rests his head on my shoulder as he catches his breath. His arms are wrapped around my waist and we move slowly together, not even paying attention to the rhythm of the music. Occasionally I feel the scrape of teeth against my neck, or a kiss on my jaw, as Garrett works his way up to my ear.
"You're good at that," he accuses, when he gets there.
I roll my eyes at him. I don't know what he was expecting. He knows I'm not a saint.
We tire of dancing, and grab a couple more drinks. We people watch while we're hovering at the bar, commenting on people's dancing technique, and trying to spot people who have gone beyond dancing and are just using the floor space as an arena for foreplay.
Once our drinks are gone, we head back to the dance floor. Garrett turns in my arms, so his back is to my front. He is seriously embracing this night, completely unfazed by the fact that my erection is now pressed against his ass.
I'm freaking out because I feel like I should take charge of our movements, but I'm fucking terrible at dancing. Garrett rescues me, though. My hands are on his hips and he starts to move, and I follow his lead. He really is a great dancer, and it puts me at ease.
My hands run over his chest, and I look around to see a few people openly staring at us. Usually, I would feel self conscious, but Garrett is moving us so well, and providing a bit of a shield between me and them, that I send them a grin, before returning my focus to the boy in my arms. There is no flare of possession – Garrett isn't mine to feel that way about – there is only pride that people are looking at us with open lust.
My lips tease at the back of his neck as my hands explore the front of his body. We are rapidly approaching a point where we would also be using the dancefloor as foreplay space. Much as I enjoyed being watched with him, there are limits.
"Shall we get out of here?" I breathe the question into Garrett's ear, and he shivers in response.
"Are you sure? We've only been here a few hours," he points out.
That's about two hours to many, judging by the erection straining my jeans right now.
"Yes. Let's go."
Because we have left so early, getting a taxi is easy, and we're back at Garrett's flat in no time at all. I grab us a couple of bottles of water from his fridge, while he heads to his bedroom. I assume he is just tidying up a little in there, as I hear him crashing round, and I sit on the sofa to wait for him.
He sticks his head out about five minutes later. "Are you coming?"
I look up at him, and the surprise is obviously written on my face.
"Well, there's no point pretending is there? We might as well just start off in there. Saves moving at an inopportune moment."
"You're all about the practicality, aren't you, Gar?"
I stand up, grabbing the water, and he starts laughing.
"Says the man with the bottles of water. What exactly are they, if not practical?"
He walks over to me, fisting the front of my t-shirt, and pulling me into a kiss.
"You're lucky I love you. I wouldn't change my sheets for just anyone, you know."
I groan. Not because of the kiss.
"You have changed them, right? Any chance you Febrezed the mattress?"
He snorts. "No. But the sheets are clean and fresh. And my room is tidy. I even hoovered."
I follow him into his bedroom. It is tidier than usual, and the sheets do look fresh.
He grabs the water bottles off me and puts them on his nightstand, which also looks like it is holding a pack of condoms and some lube. And a deck of cards. I'm not quite sure what the cards are about. Everything else, though, I can guess. I'm surprised he sees things going quite that far, but I'm not about to say no.
While at the nightstand, he picks up the remote control and flicks on the TV in his room. He sets it to a music station, providing us with some light and a bit of background noise.
Walking back over to me, he strips off his t-shirt, and I draw in a breath at the sight of him. I have seen him before, obviously, but he has been on a health kick recently, and clearly the gym is doing wonders for his physique.
He pulls my t-shirt off and pushes me back until I am lying down on his – hopefully clean - sheets.
For someone who isn't gay, he is remarkably sure of himself with a man in his bed. He kicks his trousers off before he lies down next to me. We lie side to side, facing one another. My hand is rubbing over his, as he teases my chest a little. They are slow motions, as we acclimatise to what is happening.
"It's not too late to back out, you know. We can just sleep."
He grabs my hand and presses it against his sizeable erection. "I don't want to back out."
I can feel that. His boxer-briefs don't leave much to the imagination.
It's only fair that I take my jeans off, too, so I wriggle out of them, throwing them onto the floor. I have spare clothes here, so I don't care if they get crumpled.
I come to rest above him, his legs wrap around my waist as I hold myself up over him. I am moving slightly, our hard cocks resting against each other means that I need to find some friction, but I keep it slow. I don't want to freak him out, even though he is completely into this.
"So how do you want to do this? I mean, what do you want to do?" I don't want to push anything he doesn't want to do, and unsexy as this conversation is, it might prevent awkwardness later on in the night.
"I dunno, a bit of everything? If I'm going to try this, I might as well try everything, right?"
My eyes flick to the condoms on his nightstand, and I wonder if he means what I think he means.
"So when you say 'everything'...?"
"I mean everything."
I cough, stunned by what he wants.
"Um, that's not something you want to just jump into."
"I won't be."
"So you don't want me to fuck you?" The alcohol clouding my brain is making this conversation really difficult to follow.
"No, I do want you to."
"What? But..."
Garrett takes pity on me, flipping me onto my back and placing kisses on my chest.
"Remember Maria?"
His ex-girlfriend. She was a fucking bitch; she was completely convinced that I was trying to turn him gay.
"Yep."
"Well, she liked to... erm... explore things, sexually. She found my lube one day and started errr – Well you know. I think she read it in Cosmo or something."
I know what he means, so I just nod to let him know that I've understood. My erection is disappearing at all this talk of his ex, and I would quite like to move on.
"So she did. I think she thought I'd freak out and never want to see you again."
Because that's logical. Crazy fucking bitch. I wish I'd been more of a dick to her, now.
"Anyway, the long and short of it is that I didn't freak out. I'm an enlightened guy, so it didn't mess with my head, and I kind of liked it. So sometimes – if I have time – I do it myself. I'm not wholly unprepared; I want this, Carlisle."
Holy fucking shit.
I push him off me, onto his back again. If we're going to do this, I want it to be one of the best things he's ever experienced.
Dropping down so my body almost completely covers his, I start to move against him again. I might not have much rhythm on the dance floor but I have Garrett writhing beneath me in no time.
His feet lock my legs in place, and he teases kisses along my neck as he tries to grind against me. I won't let him, though. I like to keep him slightly frustrated both in life and in bed, it turns out. He moves his hands to my boxers and starts to push them off, so I lift myself off him. While he is busy with mine, I decide he might as well be naked, too – all in the interests of equality, of course.
I divest him of his quickly, and immediately grip his cock with my hand. He wasn't expecting it, and his fingers freeze in their endeavours to get my underwear off. I show him some mercy, after stroking him a couple of times. The lube is looking like a good idea right now, so I lean over and grab it off the nightstand, giving him the opportunity to get my boxers off completely.
He grabs the bottle off me, and pours some into my hand, pushing it straight back to where it was.
"You can't just stop, you dickhead."
I laugh at his indignation. "You'll get yours, don't worry. This is all in the interest of making it good for you."
"Oh shut up and move your fucking hand."
"You're so polite when you're sexually frustrated. Is this a permanent state around me, because, to be honest, you're always this rude to me?"
It's a valid point. We talk to each other like this all the time. Garrett doesn't seem to appreciate my thoughts, however, and stops engaging in the conversation. That might also be because I have finally started to stroke him properly.
I tease him for as long as possible, working my way to the end of the bed so that I can tease his legs with kisses. I nip at his thigh as he writhes underneath me, my free hand grabbing the bottle of lube from where he'd dropped it. The lid finally clicks open, after I've fumbled with it one-handed for what feels like forever. I have to take my hand off him to pour it out, and Garrett groans as I leave him with no stimulation.
"You doing okay?" I ask him.
"Fuck yes. Can't you tell? I think I can see why people are gay; you know what to do way better than any girls I've been with."
I laugh. "That's not always the case. Trust me. Are you ready for more?" I hope he is, because now my hand is covered in lube again.
Garrett nods, and I shift up the bed a little to drop a kiss on his lips. His eyes are a little glazed over, and I smile at the look of satisfaction on his face.
I try to distract him with kisses as my hand moves over his balls. He is keenly aware of what I'm doing, and bends his leg to make it easier for me. My lips move over his chest as my finger slips down to tease him. He groans, and I look up to check he's okay. He might have done this himself, but it's a whole different ball game if someone is doing it to you. His face is the picture of bliss, though, and I allow myself a smug smile that it's me doing this to him, and not some random girl he's met in a club.
I leave my finger there for a while, just pressing occasionally, teasing him but not taking it any further. My lips are kissing their way down his firm chest, and he is groaning more and more loudly. I'm a little concerned that the neighbours are going to hear, but I can't bring myself to care enough to stop him.
I avoid his cock completely when I first reach it, instead teasing his hipbones and stomach.
"Fucking hell Carlisle. Do I have to put it in your mouth myself?"
I look up and Garrett's smiling at me. He has propped his head up on the pillows. The frustration is evident in his tone, but he's not as annoyed as his words would suggest.
Two can play at this game, though, and we are experts in winding each other up.
I raise an eyebrow at him, and dip down to take him into my mouth, slipping my finger inside him at the same time. It has the desired effect.
He arches up off the bed, groaning loudly. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, Carlisle,"
I pull back to ask him if that was what he wanted.
"Yes. Don't stop to be cocky about it, you dick. For fuck's sake, man."
I laugh, and continue.
He does remarkably well as I start to prepare him in earnest. I think my lips around his cock help, but it can't take your mind off everything. However, we take it slowly, and he moans and groans in all the right places, arching up to meet my mouth, and shifting on the bed to meet my fingers.
I feel something hit my head, and I look up to see what the hell it was. He's thrown a condom at me.
"I'm ready. Let's do it."
"Are you sure?"
"I just launched a condom at your head didn't I? Added to the fact my cock is rock hard and I've let you put your fingers in my ass, I think most of the clues would point to yes. Yes, I am ready."
My hands are still slick with lube, so I lean off the bed to grab Garrett's t-shirt to wipe them off on. As I sit back up, I move up over his chest. If he can't stop making smart-ass comments, then I will have to find another way to shut him up.
I straddle his chest, my cock is almost begging for his mouth, and I raise an eyebrow at him in challenge. Being Garrett, he doesn't back down, and leans forward. His tongue darts out, and he licks some pre-cum off me, before enveloping my cock firmly in his lips.
I completely forget about opening the condom. To be honest, I forget pretty much everything except Garrett's name, and curse words, judging by what's coming out of my mouth. It feels amazing, and considering it's his first time, I can't quite deal with how incredible it is.
Before long, I have to pull back. I can't afford to come too soon, not now we're so close to the final hurdle. Glancing around, I can't see any sign of the condom I forgot about, so I grab another one out of the box. Garrett laughs, but doesn't say anything else. I think he might be a little nervous.
I shuffle down his body, once I've got the condom on, and grab the lube. I coat both myself and him liberally. I don't want him hurting unnecessarily.
As I lie over him, he puts his hands in my hair, pulling me down for a kiss.
"Are you sure?"
He groans in frustration, and I laugh.
"I just had to check." I swallow my nerves down, and start to push gently against him. "I'll stop at any time. Just tell me."
Garrett nods, but remains silent – for once.
We take it really, really slowly. He doesn't complain once, but his face is tight with concentration, and I am acutely aware of his body tensing up on a couple of occasions. I kiss his neck, teasing kisses, when I have the presence of mind to do anything other than remind myself to keep it slow.
Finally, finally, I am fully seated, and it feels fucking amazing.
I grab the lube, and add some more for good measure, before pulling back and starting to build up a rhythm.
Garrett is starting to become more vocal. I try desperately to hit his prostate but I'm never sure if I do, until his eyes widen.
"Do that again. Fuck."
I try and remember the angle I was at, and clearly fail as he just looks at me expectantly.
"Oh fuck, I can't remember what I did."
He starts laughing, which does terrible, wonderful things to my cock. It doesn't do much for my ego, though. His laughter is ridiculously infectious, and soon he has me laughing, too.
I keep us moving steadily, and on one thrust, his laughter stops and he groans again. When he recovers, I do it again. And again. And again.
Yeah, I paid attention that time.
His body is glistening with sweat as I move over him, mine probably is too. I can't bring myself to care, though. He looks amazing, and I can't resist dropping a kiss to his neck, so I can taste. It's not something I would normally do, but with Garrett, everything is different. We both know it's a one-time thing, we both know there is nothing to hide between us.
I know he won't last long now, and neither will I. I lean down to kiss his lips and he opens his eyes to look at me.
"Fancy seeing you here."
I laugh, but it's more of a moan.
"You're really... oh, Jesus... you're really good at this, Carlisle."
I don't even know where to start. He has the most bizarre dirty talk; I think that one was borne of surprise.
Five seconds later I couldn't give a fuck what Garrett thinks is appropriate talk for the bedroom, as he tightens around me and comes, with a groan. I'm not far behind. My head is buried in his neck, as we both try to get our breath back.
I'm the first one to break the silence between us. "Was that okay? Are you okay?"
He nods, still unable to talk properly.
I peel myself off him, and roll onto my back on the bed. His hand comes to rest on my chest, and I lie mine over it.
When he finally talks, he is half asleep. "Carlisle?"
"Yeah?"
"You can put fresh sheets on around my limp body, right? Because I'm fairly sure you just fucked the sensation out of my legs."
I laugh and get up to find some new bedding. After hunting round for twenty-odd minutes, I still can't find any, and it's not a big flat. I head back in to Garrett and shake him awake.
"Mate, I can't find any new sheets."
"I haven't got any."
"What?"
"I have one set. I wash them while I'm at work. That's what I was doing when we got back, making the bed. Don't hate me because I'm disgusting. Hate me 'cause I'm beautiful."
With that announcement, he rolls over and goes back to sleep.
I find a blanket resting on the chair in his room, which looks, and smells, inoffensive. I lay it out on my side of the bed, and lie down on top of it to sleep.
I can't hate him, even if he doesn't have clean sheets in case of spillages.
He's my best mate.
So, there you have it!
My new (Carlward) fic is coming along slowly, hopefully it won't be too much longer. I'm way behind on review replies, but I'm working through them - sorry if I haven't got to you, yet. I will do, I promise!
And last but not least, DTD has been nominated for Fic of the Month over at TwiFanfictionRecs. I've added the link to vote in my profile, should anyone feel inclined to do so!