It was almost pot luck that Sam's knuckles of coated white skin had not split or cracked from the impact they had made against his locker. He had regretted his actions straight away, due to the thick, blue bruises that had forced their way to the surface. It would be a bitch to hide, and Sam would find no pleasure in explaining his act of stupidity to anyone. But at the time it had seemed the right thing to do. At the time, it was his locker or the gloating face of Mr Schuester.
Sam had spent the evening wondering if he had overreacted. He didn't hate his Spanish Teacher or see him in a new, negative light. It was more of feeling betrayal from his mentor. The man had served Sam a plate of fine approval and delicious compliments, inserting his misleading tongue of false pride deep into the boy's ass, kissing and licking the insides for all they were worth. As quickly as the adult had begun, he rolled his slavering speech back into his jaws and drove a solid steel dagger into Sam's teenage back, taking Sam's musical part as it left his muscle.
Sam questioned if his rambling speech of gold-shorts and teenage erections had pushed Mr Schue over the edge. It was too much for his brain to handle. His eyes were still exhausted and his mind was fixed on Mr Schue and his "inappropriate casting".
'Well you fuckin' gave me the part in first place ,you fucking… hypocrite. You stupid, old… man!'
These were not Sam's true thoughts. His conceptions were poisoned. It was his second regret of the night.
After the mechanical numbers of Sam's phone had shifted past 10AM, he knew he would not be sleeping anytime soon, which only fuelled his temper. Not only had Mr Schue stolen his part, he had also taken his desperate demand for sleep by injecting plaguing thoughts of "why?" and "what if?"
Therefore, breaking into his dad's liquor cabinet had become an obvious and simple task. Sam had heard somewhere that a shot of whiskey would send anyone to The Land of Nod if they really wanted it. Two thirds of the bottle later and Sam was still awake. Sam was still awake and very much drunk.
Everything moved as if his eyes were hastily creating a fresh canvas every time he averted his look. His mental space of unforgiving yet questioning thoughts had started to shift and rock, as if his bed was on a voyage of its own. The small gap between Sam's neck and chest has started to burn. It was smouldering, and like a hot air balloon, it rose with the heat.
The teen could feel the inevitable moment coming. Sam tensed his lips and locked them closed. The last thing he wanted to do was throw up. He could call Puckerman to replace the booze. It wasn't as if his father was much of a drinker and it would take a good couple of days for him to notice it was gone. But if Sam vomited, the smell alone would give the boy's intoxicated position away, and he would be in more trouble than he could ever imagine. It wasn't worth the risk.
The cocktail of pre-consumed alcohol and Cool Ranch Doritos hit the back of Sam's teeth with a liquidy gush. Before it could purge its way through his is giant lips, the boy swallowed and felt the burning sensation travel in the opposite direction. The taste was nothing pleasant. The pungent flavour clung to his insides like it was thick oil. He needed to wash the poison away and soon; otherwise the gagging sensation would make him toss his cookies again.
Getting out of his room was not as big of a challenge as Sam had first thought. There was an occasional wobble but nothing too unsteady that would cause his feet to fall from under him. He extended his arm to stroke the wall; half to steady his movements and also to find his way to the bathroom in the darkness.
There were only a couple of feet left till Sam would be surrounded by the paradise that was washing out his mouth and brushing his teeth. He held his breath as he passed the twins' room as the drunken steps were drawing to a close. The blond let out a sigh as the door came into view.
One step – two steps- three…
There was a rushing agony that shot from Sam's thigh to his shoulder. There was no indication that Sam could have tripped and the boy was confident that his balance was controlled. The burning sensation had returned with his fall but his head was far too fuzzy to do anything. In less than a couple of seconds, Sam blacked out.
Something was banging. It wasn't a loud bang or an epic crash like something out of a comic book; it was more of a hollow tap. It repeated for a couple of seconds before it finally came to a halt. Sam shifted and rolled over to face the noise. Something wasn't quite right. As his eyes opened and shifted into focus, he noticed that his room was clean and there was no indication of his nightly activity.
He swivelled to regain his comfortable position as a small jolt of pain struck his shoulder. It was nothing major and the blond thought it was lucky that he had not done any serious damage. He brought his injured hand to his face. The swelling had gone but the colour of the bruise had spread across his hand and darkened.
His phone buzzed. There was a couple of missed calls from Finn as well as a couple of hundred from Quinn. The images of the previous night began to flash back with copious amounts of regret and embarrassment. Before starting on the countless text messages from his girlfriend, he started with Finn.
FINN HUDSON: Dude, you wanna come over my place and play some COD? Rachel's out with her dads and it might take your mind of things?
FINN HUDSON: ….Yes?...No?
FINN HUDSON: My mom says you can stay… I haven't told her about your drinking so you'll have to try and be sober and maybe take a Tik-Tak or something.
FINN HUDSON: Sam?
FINN HUDSON: Want me to call Quinn?
FINN HUDSON: Dude, just stop drinking. It's really bad to drink on your own. You'll get all depressed and stuff.
FINN HUDSON: Is this about being fat 'cause you're totally ripped, man?
FINN HUDSON: Burt gave me some beer?
FINN HUDSON: Evans, if you don't call me back I'm going to call Mr Schue. I'm worried about you.
FINN HUDSON: Dude?
Sam wanted to take his phone and crack himself over the head till his skull burst and his weakened blood blinded him. Sam had forgotten that at some point during the night he had called his new friend when he was drunk, whining and moaning about getting cut from Rocky Horror; which had obviously lead on further to some of Sam's suppressed issues. The blond felt nothing short of a fool.
Despite his best interests, Sam decided that he would wait to apologise to Finn. He still had Quinn's messages and mist calls to deal with. Even if fan was mad at Sam, he would never show it… unlike the Cheerio. With a flick of his thumb, Sam scrolled down to the first message.
QUINN 3: Hey Blondie. Sorry I missed your call I was in the shower. Cheerios practise got cancelled so you could have come over after all. Do you want me to call you back? X
QUINN 3: Answer your phone, Sam! X
QUINN 3: Are you playing hard to get? It's working. X
QUINN 3: Finn just called. I'm really sorry to hear about the show. I think your Rocky was perfect and really sexy. Finn said you didn't want to tell me because you thought I would be ashamed but he thought I should know you're a little down tonight. Don't get mad because he's gone behind your back! X
QUINN 3: I didn't mean that how it sounded. X
QUINN 3: Answer your phone, SAM! X
QUINN 3: Finn is just looking out for you. He's being a good friend. I'm so proud of what you did with your part so don't think you have to hide it from me. X
QUINN 3: I assume you've gone to sleep. I'll call you tomorrow. Maybe you could come round and I could give you something special to cheer you up? Xxx
QUINN 3: Hey Sammy. I hope you're feeling better. My mom's away for the day if you want to come over for your present? xx
Sam felt a little overwhelmed. Finn had saved his ass but still allowed his girl to know he was down. Perhaps he was in the clear? Quinn hadn't even let Sam touch her boobs yet and now she was inviting him over for something special? Beautifully horny pictures of the message shot threw his head. The boy closed his eyes and let his palm work its way down to his boxers. His thoughts took over.
Sam pulls up his truck at the front of Quinn's house. He knocks on the door and she opens it, as if she was waiting for him to arrive. She's wearing her Cheerios uniform but her hair is down, bouncing and flowing around her shoulders. Sam tries to speak buts she firmly places a finger over his lips and takes his hand with the other. She leads him up the stairs.
The boy placed a hand under his waistband. With the teenage thoughts gushing into every part of his brain, his underwear had already tented. The boy gave his length a quick stroke which caused his injured shoulder to make a tiny jolt of stinging pain. Sam didn't care.
Quinn opens the door of her bedroom and issues her man to close it behind her. With force she pushes Sam against the hard wood and lunges at his ear. She bites down hard on his lobe and one of her hands brushes against his side. The biting continues as her hand stops over her boyfriend's bulge. Quinn gives a light squeeze and whispers, "How much do you want this?" Her finger is pressed against his lips once again before Sam can muster up any kind of response. In a hasty drop, she is on her knees.
Sam's pumping was becoming more vigorous. His shoulder ached but he carried on, knowing that soon he would be close. His need to slow down did not counteract his want for pleasure. He tightened his grasp as his free hand shoved part of his pillow into his mouth to muffle his growing moans. He did not want his parents walking in now.
The blond girl's eyes catch Sam's. She lets out a small groan as she fumbles with the zipper on the teen's jeans. With one swift movement, Sam's dick is free and Quinn wastes no time in engulfing the boy's impressive rod into her mouth. Her soft lips work their magic at the base as her nose is lightly tickled with mousy pubic hair. She hums around his length as her tongue flicks and licks around his shaft. Evans is in heaven.
The aggravating knocking soon returned. It was coming from his bedroom door. Sam's mind turned pale as his body deflated. In a fit of panic, Sam covered his body in his duvet, just in time for his dad to enter. The older man started to laugh. It was an odd laugh and not the kind that would be expected when someone was almost caught masturbating.
"Well there's our Sambuca Evans!" His father's words seemed to boom as if he was trying to conjure up some kind of hangover. "How's the head?"
"Fine…Dad I am so sorry!" Sam sat up, careful not to flash his erection in the direction of Mr Evans. "How long am I grounded for?"
"Grounded? Who said anything about grounded?" His Dad made a perch at the foot of Sam's bed and carefully tossed away a pillow that was in his way. "How long do you think you should be grounded for?"
Sam had always hated his Dad's punishments. He did not like how his Dad tried to negotiate. Either way, Mr Evans would usually double or triple Sam's figure. It was a lost cause.
"A week." This was a hopefully modest answer. His Dad's laughter soon continued as he placed a gentle slap on his son's leg.
"I suppose I could ground you for a week. Hell, I could even ground you for a year… maybe even the rest of your life." Sam closed his eyes. This speech was far too well-known to him and it was not worth the interjection of disrespect. "But I'm not going to do that."
"What?" Sam's reaction came with a gasp of genuine surprise. "Why the hell not?"
"Unless you want to be grounded for a year or…"
"No!"
"So I got a little phone call last night; a phone call that I found a little upsetting and a little funny all at the same time." His dad stopped. The whole time, his eyes had never caught Sam's. It was growing more and more awkward and Sam could not help but wonder what was to come. "Now the fine, young gentleman on the end of the phone was very concerned. He said that my son, you, were heavily intoxicated and on your own."
Sam's mind immediately thought of Finn. He was not mad at the older teen for telling his girlfriend about Rocky, but telling his father about his drunkenness lost him major bro points. Sam would not be letting this go easily, even if he was grounded forever.
"So I thought to myself, my boy would not be getting drunk in his bedroom all on his own, would he?" Sam did not give a reply. "Would he?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then the fine young gentleman said that he had cut you from the school play and that he felt responsible for your actions and that he was very sorry for any upset that he may have caused. So then I thought to myself; is this man taking the blame for my son being drunk off of my whiskey, in my home?"
"No, sir."
"Incorrect. You see the young gentleman; Mr Schuester I think his name was, would like to send out his full apologies. And I accept that. Over and out."
Sam was more than confused. With each thought came a new question. Why would Mr Schue take the blame? Why was his dad being so easy on him? How the hell did Mr Schuester know about last night's events?
And then, as if like clockwork, everything ticked. Finn had followed through with request to call their teacher. Finn had saved the day. "So that's it then? I'm getting off free?" Sam gave his father a grateful smile. He held on with anticipation till the man met his glance and smiled in return. "Seriously?"
"When I was in high school, I was dating the most gorgeous girl on campus."
"What does the story of you meeting Mom have anything to do with me… apart from the obvious part." Mr Evans shook his head and looked away from his son.
"Different girl."
"Oh."
"Any way, I thought this girl was the best thing that had ever happened to me. I was obsessed with her." Sam's Dad's actions told stories of his past. The pair had always had a great relationship, but his father had never opened up or told him anything about his life. This was a whole new experience. "So she broke up with me."
"Bummer."
"So that night I stole some booze from my dad and drowned my sorrows. He found me and kicked the crap out of me. And I promised myself that I would never drink to make myself feel better again. It's stupid and it's irresponsible and I thought better of you Sam."
"I'm sorry, Dad." He really was.
"Just think yourself lucky that you've got great teachers and a great Dad that will take care of you… and clean the vomit off you… and put you to bed."
"Thanks, Dad." The boy leaned over and gave his father a tight yet manly hug. He was one of the lucky ones. "I appreciate that… and love you and stuff."
"Don't think you're getting off that easily." The blond boy knew it. He was built up just to be knocked down, again. He sighed and slumped himself down in his bed.
"On Monday, you're going to go see that Schuester guy and thank him. He did a good thing, calling me. In return, I won't tell your Mom. Deal?"
"Deal… What else?"
"You promise me that when you're down you'll come and talk to me. Myself and my dad never had what we have. Let's take care of that, yeah?" Sam's face was in awe. At this moment in time, there was nobody on the planet that Sam looked up to more than his father. Everything was almost perfect again.
"You have a deal, sir!"
"Good," Mr Evans replied, standing up and shifting his way to the bedroom door. "You can finish jerking off now!"
A/N: Hello again. Thank you so much for reading. If you review, that would be amazing. Even if you hate it, I just want to get better so please give some feedback.
Also, that was my first time and writing any kind of sex/foreplay. Please forgive me if I completely ruined it.
Thank you. Update soon! (Apologies for any mistakes, either spelling or grammar or something else. I do always read everything over a couple of hundred times but I always miss something)