Title: Normality is overrated
Pairing: Warren/Andrew
Rating: R
Summary: Andrew thinks during his first time.
Warning: Andrew thinking during sex.
Andrew let out a low wail of pain. Warren had told him it would feel good. In a weird way, it kind of did. The way the pain had a tinge of pleasure to it, as Warren scissored his fingers, only two right now. Warren told him it would take three, and a good deal of lube, to make it feel right.
Warren wasn't wrong very often, so if he said that was all it took, then that was all it took. He had said that the first time between two guys could be painful, but it started to feel good after a few times. At Andrew's hurt puppy look, he had promised this was the first time he had ever done anything like this with a guy; he had just read about it. He had been curious when he opened an e-mail and found a porn link there.
So here they were, on the scratchy couch in their lair, 'experimenting'. Warren had scowled when Andrew had asked if he was actually gay, or just wanting sex. Andrew himself had protested for a good two hours that he was straight. Warren had pretended to be hurt that his sidekick, his Obi-wan to Yoda had thought he was only in it for sex. Andrew apologized profusely. It was when Warren had twisted everything around that he had convinced Andrew that he was gay and lusted for Warren.
Andrew wished experimenting didn't involve fingers up his ass. But it was Warren. Warren was the leader, and he wouldn't lie to Andrew. He told Andrew that the best way to do it was with Andrew on elbows and knees, that it would feel best that way. It felt a lot better when Warren sneaked his hand between Andrew' legs and grasped his...should he call it manliness?
No, that sounded too cliché. He supposed he could call it a...a penis. After all, he was having s-e-x, and that made him a man. Only whiny little virgins couldn't talk about sex. About.... fucking.
And that's what they were going to do, right? "Ow! Warren, that hurts!" Warren didn't answer, but it was kind of sweet when he dropped a kiss on Andrews hip. The third finger hurt more than he though it would, and it didn't even last very long. Soon, Warren was pushing into him. It was hot and cold at the same time. It hurt, but it felt so good.
"Ahh, do...do it harder. Please." Maybe if Warren wouldn't do it so slow, it wouldn't hurt as much.
He felt Warren's stomach press flush against his back and his lips press against his ear. "You don't even have to ask, baby." And then he went faster. Besides the soft hum of the computers, and the static of the surveillance screens, the only sound in the lair was their skin slapping together, and the hushed moans of Warren.
It felt a whole lot better when Warren's dick hit something inside of him, and he yelped in appreciation. Warren's hand was still on his penis—it was easier to say now—and it was so different than the few times he had masturbated. He didn't feel all ashamed, and Warren's hand was larger than his, and quicker. Warren seemed to know what he was doing.
"Do you love me, Andrew?" Warren was slowing down, and his body seemed tighter.
Andrew smiled nervously, although he knew his counterpart couldn't see it. "You know I do," he whined. His mouth opened, and he tried to speak as he felt the oncoming orgasm. He just wanted to tell Warren how good it felt.
As always, though, Warren knew automatically. Warren came first, and it felt kind of weird, but he told himself that it felt good, and he followed soon after, calling out Warren's name. Warren hadn't called his name, so he wondered if he should be embarrassed about that. He cringed when Warren pulled out, and it left him with a numb feeling.
He relaxed his body, and looked down. "Jonathan is so going to notice that white spot."
Warren patted him on the back. Was it supposed to be some sort of 'good job' merit? "Yeah right. He would think it was yogurt."
Andrew scrunched up his face. "Okay, you hate vanilla, and I'm lactose intolerant. I told you guys that when you made that chocolate birthday cake for me!"
"Yeah, that was a pretty good cake."
Andrew sat up. "It did look really tasty, and that icing looked really rich in flavor. Sorry I'm allergic to dairy products."
Warren was pulling on his pants now, which he had discarded next to the couch. He paused in zipping to look down at the naked boy on the couch. Quickly, and with a tinge of embarrassment, he pressed his lips to Andrew's cheek. "Not your fault," He assured, "Now get dressed. Short-cakes will be back soon." Then he handed Andrew a tissue, which the other boy used to clean himself off.
Andrew nodded distractedly, then beamed. "I'll just flip the cushion over!"
Warren shot him a sarcastic thumbs up, and Andrew couldn't help but wonder if everything was back to normal...If you could call living in a basement and plotting against a vampire killing girl with your two best friends normal.
"Um, Warren?" His voice came out in a strained whine. "Is this...are we going to ever—you know, have sex again?"
Warren looked up from the schematics he had started back on. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. "Sure...we'll do it this weekend, okay? I'll make Jonathan do the grocery shopping. We're almost out of milk."
Andrew pouted. "Dude, I know. There wasn't even enough for me to have cereal this morning. I hade to eat nasty toast."
Warren shot him a false sympathetic look before going back to his schematics. Well, everything certainly seemed to be normal. It was kind of like how every year on his birthday Andrew didn't really feel like he had gotten any older. He certainly felt like he had lost his virginity, but he didn't feel like he had come very far.
Was he supposed to feel older? Should he hold his chest out and boast to Jonathan that he was now a man? No, that would make Warren really angry. Or Warren would scoff, and then Andrew would say something stupid about him being the one had taken away his virginity. He pulled on his clothes as quickly as possible, and sat on the couch, legs clamped together and hands posed on his knees. He hoped he looked natural.
The door to the basement slammed shut, and Jonathan hobbled in, arms filled with books. For a second, it seemed as if he expected help. It didn't last long, though, and soon he was carefully descending the stairs. Andrew jumped up, remembering the cum stain, and flipped the cushion over.
Jonathan barely spared him a look before dumping his books onto the table in front of the couch. "Warren got yogurt on the couch!" He blurted.
Jonathan looked at him for a second, a sort of sneer on his face. Warren laughed distractedly, and Andrew smiled shakily, before sitting back down. His butt was sort of sore, so he leaned over as if he was interested in what Jonathan was doing.
Yeah, everything was back to normal—if you could call it that. Oh well. Normality was overrated anyway.
~End~
Andrew let out a low wail of pain. Warren had told him it would feel good. In a weird way, it kind of did. The way the pain had a tinge of pleasure to it, as Warren scissored his fingers, only two right now. Warren told him it would take three, and a good deal of lube, to make it feel right.
Warren wasn't wrong very often, so if he said that was all it took, then that was all it took. He had said that the first time between two guys could be painful, but it started to feel good after a few times. At Andrew's hurt puppy look, he had promised this was the first time he had ever done anything like this with a guy; he had just read about it. He had been curious when he opened an e-mail and found a porn link there.
So here they were, on the scratchy couch in their lair, 'experimenting'. Warren had scowled when Andrew had asked if he was actually gay, or just wanting sex. Andrew himself had protested for a good two hours that he was straight. Warren had pretended to be hurt that his sidekick, his Obi-wan to Yoda had thought he was only in it for sex. Andrew apologized profusely. It was when Warren had twisted everything around that he had convinced Andrew that he was gay and lusted for Warren.
Andrew wished experimenting didn't involve fingers up his ass. But it was Warren. Warren was the leader, and he wouldn't lie to Andrew. He told Andrew that the best way to do it was with Andrew on elbows and knees, that it would feel best that way. It felt a lot better when Warren sneaked his hand between Andrew' legs and grasped his...should he call it manliness?
No, that sounded too cliché. He supposed he could call it a...a penis. After all, he was having s-e-x, and that made him a man. Only whiny little virgins couldn't talk about sex. About.... fucking.
And that's what they were going to do, right? "Ow! Warren, that hurts!" Warren didn't answer, but it was kind of sweet when he dropped a kiss on Andrews hip. The third finger hurt more than he though it would, and it didn't even last very long. Soon, Warren was pushing into him. It was hot and cold at the same time. It hurt, but it felt so good.
"Ahh, do...do it harder. Please." Maybe if Warren wouldn't do it so slow, it wouldn't hurt as much.
He felt Warren's stomach press flush against his back and his lips press against his ear. "You don't even have to ask, baby." And then he went faster. Besides the soft hum of the computers, and the static of the surveillance screens, the only sound in the lair was their skin slapping together, and the hushed moans of Warren.
It felt a whole lot better when Warren's dick hit something inside of him, and he yelped in appreciation. Warren's hand was still on his penis—it was easier to say now—and it was so different than the few times he had masturbated. He didn't feel all ashamed, and Warren's hand was larger than his, and quicker. Warren seemed to know what he was doing.
"Do you love me, Andrew?" Warren was slowing down, and his body seemed tighter.
Andrew smiled nervously, although he knew his counterpart couldn't see it. "You know I do," he whined. His mouth opened, and he tried to speak as he felt the oncoming orgasm. He just wanted to tell Warren how good it felt.
As always, though, Warren knew automatically. Warren came first, and it felt kind of weird, but he told himself that it felt good, and he followed soon after, calling out Warren's name. Warren hadn't called his name, so he wondered if he should be embarrassed about that. He cringed when Warren pulled out, and it left him with a numb feeling.
He relaxed his body, and looked down. "Jonathan is so going to notice that white spot."
Warren patted him on the back. Was it supposed to be some sort of 'good job' merit? "Yeah right. He would think it was yogurt."
Andrew scrunched up his face. "Okay, you hate vanilla, and I'm lactose intolerant. I told you guys that when you made that chocolate birthday cake for me!"
"Yeah, that was a pretty good cake."
Andrew sat up. "It did look really tasty, and that icing looked really rich in flavor. Sorry I'm allergic to dairy products."
Warren was pulling on his pants now, which he had discarded next to the couch. He paused in zipping to look down at the naked boy on the couch. Quickly, and with a tinge of embarrassment, he pressed his lips to Andrew's cheek. "Not your fault," He assured, "Now get dressed. Short-cakes will be back soon." Then he handed Andrew a tissue, which the other boy used to clean himself off.
Andrew nodded distractedly, then beamed. "I'll just flip the cushion over!"
Warren shot him a sarcastic thumbs up, and Andrew couldn't help but wonder if everything was back to normal...If you could call living in a basement and plotting against a vampire killing girl with your two best friends normal.
"Um, Warren?" His voice came out in a strained whine. "Is this...are we going to ever—you know, have sex again?"
Warren looked up from the schematics he had started back on. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. "Sure...we'll do it this weekend, okay? I'll make Jonathan do the grocery shopping. We're almost out of milk."
Andrew pouted. "Dude, I know. There wasn't even enough for me to have cereal this morning. I hade to eat nasty toast."
Warren shot him a false sympathetic look before going back to his schematics. Well, everything certainly seemed to be normal. It was kind of like how every year on his birthday Andrew didn't really feel like he had gotten any older. He certainly felt like he had lost his virginity, but he didn't feel like he had come very far.
Was he supposed to feel older? Should he hold his chest out and boast to Jonathan that he was now a man? No, that would make Warren really angry. Or Warren would scoff, and then Andrew would say something stupid about him being the one had taken away his virginity. He pulled on his clothes as quickly as possible, and sat on the couch, legs clamped together and hands posed on his knees. He hoped he looked natural.
The door to the basement slammed shut, and Jonathan hobbled in, arms filled with books. For a second, it seemed as if he expected help. It didn't last long, though, and soon he was carefully descending the stairs. Andrew jumped up, remembering the cum stain, and flipped the cushion over.
Jonathan barely spared him a look before dumping his books onto the table in front of the couch. "Warren got yogurt on the couch!" He blurted.
Jonathan looked at him for a second, a sort of sneer on his face. Warren laughed distractedly, and Andrew smiled shakily, before sitting back down. His butt was sort of sore, so he leaned over as if he was interested in what Jonathan was doing.
Yeah, everything was back to normal—if you could call it that. Oh well. Normality was overrated anyway.
~End~