A/N: I promised some outtakes and here's the first one. I haven't written any others yet, but will in due time!
Big thanks to my master beta, Char who whips my commas and gerunds into shape. Gin and Caren get bewbgropes and thanks for being the best prereaders ever. xo Also, an extra special thanks to my fichubs Twiboy for being a sounding board, prereader and a generally fuckawesome guy.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I just enjoy getting them high.
Also - the following outtake contains slash...which means there will be cute boys doing...stuff.
"Marcus dear, please come out now. Your guests are starting to arrive."
My mother's words are quite slurred, which means she's only had two cocktails at the most. I snort at her choice of words, though, before begrudgingly leaving the comfort of my room.
If only I really did come out, Mother...
Passing an ornate mirror in the hallway, I pause to look myself over. Black jeans, fitted - but not too tight - gray pinstripe button down shirt, and my dark hair shaggy enough to make my mother say something.
Perfect.
I sigh, knowing that it doesn't actually matter how good I might look. It's not like there's anyone here who'll notice or even care. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Only a few more months. It's become my mantra lately, and I just keep repeating it to myself when things looks shitty.
Only a few more months... until I'm in college.
Only a few more months... until I'm away from the heavy hand of my parents and their judgmental attitudes.
Only a few more months... until I can go up to a guy and fucking do something about it.
I'm so lost in my thoughts that I don't even realize that my mother is standing in front of me until her gin-breath washes over my face.
"Did you need something?" I ask, trying my best to keep the bite out of my voice.
She looks me up and down, not even bothering to hide her disapproving stare. Her hand comes up to my hair, and she attempts to flatten it over to the side.
"You could have at least tucked your shirt in," she says before turning around and marching down the stairs, probably to go freshen up her drink.
I shake my hair out before slowly making my way downstairs.
Only a few more months.
My father is nowhere to be seen, and I don't bother seeking him out. I do, however, swing through the kitchen to see if there's anything to snack on. I haven't had much in my stomach besides the celebratory shots before graduation, and I'm fucking starving. My mother hired caterers for this party, because heaven forbid she gets her hands dirty using the eighty-thousand dollar kitchen she had renovated last year.
A bunch of guys in dress pants and crisp white, button down shirts weave in and out of the kitchen, grabbing trays piled high with food. I stand back, surveying the scene, and can't help but stare when one of the waiters bends down to pick up a fallen napkin. The black fabric of his pants stretches tightly against his perfectly round ass, and my stomach tenses as I watch it flex a little when he reaches for the napkin. I try and look away but I'm unsuccessful and continue watching as he stands back up. He's taller than I expected and fills out the rest of his uniform quite nicely. My eyes move completely on their own and scan up and down his clearly fit body.
When I finally reach his face, I realize that I'm totally busted. The smirk playing on his lips tells me I've been caught in my ogling, so I turn away, doing my best to avoid his stare.
Shit.
I should just pretend like this never happened, walk out of here and ignore the insanely fuckhot man in front of me. I try and figure out the best plan of escape. I've perfected the cold demeanor that runs in my family and am adept at putting on the facade when need be. I ball my fists up and change my face to a look of indifference. Before I'm able to stalk out of the kitchen, however, he decides to speak.
"See something you like?"
The way the words roll off his tongue, the innuendo dripping from each one, sends a shiver down my spine, weakening my resolve. Summoning every last ounce of strength I have, I look him square in the eye and reach over to take an appetizer off the tray he's holding.
"Y-y-yes. I mean no," I respond and quickly shove the puff pastry into my mouth before I say something else stupid.
The smirk that had been gracing his face before slides away as he arches an eyebrow, looking me up and down. I rush out before he's able to come up with a quick comeback.
Careful not to run into anyone else, I slip into the hallway bathroom and splash some cold water on my face. I am so close to breaking free, and there is no way I'm going to let some hot waiter at my graduation party be my downfall. Despite how I ache to see what might have happened if I had flirted back, I've worked too hard at keeping up a front, knowing that soon I'll be able to experiment and be myself.
Of course, I still let myself look and will appreciate a hot guy when I see one, but it's not like Forks is swimming with openly gay guys checking me out in return. I close my eyes and try to regain my composure. Maybe I read the situation all wrong, anyway. Maybe this guy didn't notice my blatant eye fucking.
Right.
The chances that I'll actually see him again while we're alone are slim to none, especially if I do my best to mingle with my guests. I check myself over in the mirror once more before making my way to the backyard, where the party is being held. I don't spot any of my friends just yet, but that doesn't seem to matter anyway, as I'm immediately grabbed by my father and thrust into a conversation with his business partners.
"Marcus," exclaims one of them as he slaps me on the back. "Congratulations, son! Must be awfully excited to go on to Georgetown. Will you be taking after the old man here and head into the business world?"
They all chuckle and raise a glass to my dad who laughs them off, yet they still look at me for an answer.
"I...uh...I'm not quite sure what I'll be majoring in," I offer as a way of skirting the question.
I can feel my father's hand clamp down hard on my shoulder as he addresses his cronies.
"Marcus is just being shy. You know this boy has the head for math. He'll certainly be majoring in business."
Clearly there's no room for discussion here. I purse my lips and nod my head, unable to even give give a verbal response. The men continue speaking, but my father's firm grip hasn't loosened up, so I'm trapped there, listening to them brag about some deal that's going through. It sounds insanely boring and like nothing that would interest me.
While it's true that I am quite good at math, I'm also a pretty decent artist and want to do something with that. I know that there is no way that my parents would pay for school if I majored in art, so I'll have to figure out a way around that. Maybe a minor or something. I'm running through possible plans in my head when a flash of white whips by me, snapping me to attention.
"Excuse me gentleman," says the slick voice, causing me to look up. "Would anyone like a stuffed fig?"
While the men all look at the tray and shake their head, I lock eyes with the hot waiter holding it. I'm about to reach out and grab one when my father chooses this moment to exemplify what an asshole he is.
"We're all set, thanks," he says, excusing the waiter. He turns back and addresses his friends. "I have no idea what is up with the girly food. Jane was in charge of the food, and clearly she chose stuff that's just as fruity as the damn waiters."
Everyone breaks out into a loud laugh, and I use that moment to sneak away, pulling myself from my father's grasp. He doesn't seem to notice or even care. I pray that the waiter didn't hear him, or worse yet, thinks that I share the same views.
Keeping my head down, I make my way over to the bar that's set up at the edge of the tent. I can feel the heat in my cheeks as my heart pumps hard, the hate in my blood coursing through it. This is why I can never come out to them. This is why I need to maintain the facade.
My mother, of course, is at the bar, batting her eyelashes at the bartender and sucking on an olive. She looks desperate and more than a little drunk.
Fabulous.
I decide to take advantage of the situation and walk up to her, placing a peck on her cheek.
"Hello, Mother."
"Hello, Marcus dear. I was just telling this nice gentleman how proud I was of you," she says, waving shakily in the direction of the bartender.
I fake a smile and nod my head.
"I'll have a scotch on the rocks, please," I say, and miraculously, the bartender gets to work on my drink. I guess if you pay them enough, they look the other way.
Wisely, my mother chooses not to comment and instead pushes her now empty glass forward, requesting a refill. I make inane chit chat with her until our drinks are filled, and then slip away, finding a quiet corner to down my drink. It goes down fast and smooth and only burns my throat slightly. It does, however, take the edge off, and I'm able to relax a bit.
I wonder how long I'll have to wait before I can go order another drink. My mother still has her spot at the bar claimed, so I head over to a table that's covered in food. I grab a handful of carrots and some cheese and keep walking, not really in the mood to stop and talk to any of my parents' friends. I head towards the driveway to see who's already here, and just as I leave the tent I see the fuckhot waiter talking to Bella. They're laughing about something, and Bella looks like she's blushing. Two seconds later, he has his hands in her hair.
What. The. Fuck?
Bella's grown on me, and I've accepted that she and Edward are probably in it for the long haul. I also know that nothing is going to happen with the fuckhot waiter and me, most likely. So, why am I currently grinding my teeth until my jaw hurts at the sight of the two of them so closely together? My nails are digging into my palm, hurting my hand, so I turn around to keep walking when I almost smack right into Edward.
"Oh, hey man," he laughs. "Didn't see you there. Running away already?"
He's got a sexy smirk on his face, and his eyes are all bright and happy.
Bastard.
He has no idea the power he has over me. Makes me fucking weak in the knees when his damn lips get all twisted to the side like that.
"Huh?" I reply, because I'm smooth like that.
Edward just laughs and shakes his head as he leans in and sniffs my breath.
"Got the party started without me, I see. No fair!"
I close my eyes and allow myself to enjoy this moment.
"Whatever, dude. You know we'll head out back in a few."
During the rare occasions that we hang at my place, we usually end up in my old tree house and get high. I assume today will be no exception. Edward throws his arm around my shoulders and steers me back towards the party. As we get closer, I see that my waiter is still talking to Bella.
"You better go check on your girl, Cullen. Looks like she's getting pretty cozy with the help."
It comes out snarkier than I meant, but Edward doesn't seem to notice. His eyes darken, and he leaves me immediately, stalking over towards Bella. I trail him and hear the tail end of their conversation.
"That was Riley," Bella says, finally giving me a name for my fuckhot waiter. "He might just be my new best friend."
She giggles, which drives Edward crazy, and I can see the muscles in his neck tighten. Bella must sense his annoyance as well because she spins around in his arms and gives him a kiss.
Lucky bitch.
She whispers something to him, and I strain to hear what it is. I just pick up the end, but it's enough to send my stomach into knots.
"Plus, I'm pretty sure he's gay."
I know it's stupid of me to even be excited to learn that Riley is gay since I can't do anything about it. I leave Edward and Bella alone and wonder if I can be stealthy enough to go sneak a cigarette. I make my way around to the side of the house and then decide that I just don't give a shit if anyone catches me. I need a fucking cigarette. Right. Now.
I pull one out of my pack, groaning when I see how flat it's become from being smashed in my pants. Whatever, it'll be fine. I light up and take a deep inhale, allowing the smoke to calm me down. I lean up against the house and close my eyes, relaxing further with each drag.
"You know those things will kill you right?"
My eyes flutter open at the sound of that voice. I blink a few times, but I'm pretty certain I'm not dreaming. Riley is standing in front of me, his face only inches from mine. He eyes me in an appraising manner and doesn't bother to wait for a response.
"Plus, I'm not a fan of kissing lips that taste like an ashtray."
I gulp, still not able to form a coherent thought.
"I...uh..." I stutter as I shake my head.
"Shit."
I look up and Riley has taken a step back and is looking at me with a frown on his face.
"My gaydar is never off, and I swore I saw you checking out my..." He trails off before shaking his own head. "You know what? Never mind. Sorry, man. I'll just go back to work."
"No!" I shout out, surprising us both. "I was. I...I am."
I'm unable to finish the sentence, and I hope he knows what I'm trying to say. I drop my eyes, ashamed to look at him. I flick my cigarette on the ground, stubbing it out with my heel. It's silent for a moment, and I figure he's gone, not wanting to even deal with my bullshit. But then, out of the corner of my eye, I see his shiny black shoes inch closer towards me.
"Fuck," he sighs, and I swear I can feel his warm breath on my cheek. "You're not out, are you?"
I shake my head, making my hair fall in front of my face. Before I can do anything about it, Riley reaches out and brushes it off my face. His hand lingers on my cheek, and my face flushes at his touch.
"M-Marcus."
"Huh?" he asks, tilting my head up so I'm now looking at him.
"My name. It's um, Marcus."
I could kick myself for sounding so unsure, but I want to give him something. My anxiety eases up when Riley smiles and strokes my cheek with his thumb.
"Marcus," he says, testing out my name. "I like it. Almost as much as I like these lips."
He leans in closely, and his thumb moves to swipe my bottom lip. I close my eyes and lean forward, my heart beating so loud I swear Riley can probably hear it. I feel his lips brush against mine, leaving a small spark in their wake.
And then, it's done.
Riley pulls back and gives me a small smile.
What the fuck? Was that a pity kiss?
"Don't look so sad, gorgeous. It doesn't suit you." He leans over and presses his lips to my cheek, lingering to whisper in my ear. "I told you. I don't like kissing cigarette butts. However..."
He steps back and eyes me up and down before finally landing on my crotch. I can see him staring my dick down through my pants, and it's totally fucking hot.
"I'm sure I can think of something I can kiss that doesn't taste like nasty tobacco..."
I bite my lip and groan, wondering what he's going to do, when all of a sudden he jumps back a good two feet from me.
"Riley, you better not be taking a break. You're not scheduled to break for another half hour."
Another waiter walks past us, glaring at Riley. Riley shrugs it off and licks his lips before whispering, "Later..."
The other guy leaves just as quickly as he showed up, mumbling something under his breath. I'm standing still, a little freaked that we almost got caught. Riley doesn't seem the least bit affected though as he leans in.
"Fuck it," he whispers, and his hands cup my cheeks just as his lips crash down on mine.
This. This is how it's supposed to be.
Riley's lips are warm and wet, and he tastes like cherries. They're surprisingly soft and send shivers through my entire body. My stomach is twisted in knots, a crazy fire starting to burn inside. He switches it up, tugging on my lower lip, and I open my mouth in surprise, letting out a groan. Riley uses that to his advantage, his tongue sliding its way through. My entire body is reacting to this kiss and I need more.
Just as I reach out to pull him closer, Riley pulls back, licking my lower lip as he moves away.
"Mmm...still delicious, despite the cigs," he remarks. "Come find me later?"
His question causes him to look a bit unsure, and it's the first time I've seen him drop his air of confidence. My lips are still tingling, and I'm afraid that if I say anything, I'll lose the feeling. I just nod furiously, trying not to look like a total dork.
"Good."
His cockiness is back, and he knows I want him. I can see it in his swagger as he walks away and picks up a tray of food. Just as he turns the corner, he shoots me a wink, and then he's completely out of my sight. I lean back against the side of the house in hopes that both my ragged breathing and my cock will calm down. I'm equal parts excited and shit-a-brick nervous over Riley's promise of "later."
As I walk back to find my friends, I lick my lips, and I swear I can still taste a hint of cherry. Unable to suppress my smile, I walk over to the gang, grateful that they want to head over to the tree house. Time away from the actual party seems perfect right about now.
We all crowd into the tree house. It's a bit tight with everyone packed in, but it's still cool. Edward lights up a joint and passes it to me first, and I sure as hell don't refuse. I take a deep inhale and hold it in as long as possible before exhaling. The joint gets passed around once more before it's finally kicked, and we all just sit around in a haze, enjoying the quiet.
Maybe it's the pot, but I swear I can still feel my lips buzzing from before, and I lick them once more to see if I can taste any lingering bit of Riley, but unfortunately they just taste like smoke. Not wanting to show up tasting like a smokestack, I ask if anybody has some gum .
Luckily, Bella has a mint in her purse, which works just as well. I pop it into my mouth and excuse myself, making up some excuse about having to go mingle with my parents' friends. Nobody seems to give me any shit for it, and they're perfectly content to stick around and chill in the tree house. I do notice that Bella gives me an extra look as I start to climb down the ladder, though.
I'm not really sure how much time has passed, the pot making things a little fuzzy, but I'm sure it's been at least half an hour. Hopefully it's been long enough for Riley to be on his break. I don't see him as I approach the tent, so I make my way into the house and peek into the kitchen. The kitchen is empty, however, and I frown, upset that I've missed him.
Maybe he never really meant for me to come and find him later. My stomach tightens up, only this time it's not the good kind of hurt but rather the type that feels like a punch to the gut. I must have read more into the kiss than he did. He was probably just fucking with me. Rubbing my hand over my face, I startle when I feel somebody press against my back.
"Looking for something?"
I let out a breath and nod my head, a smile spreading across my face. Without saying a word, Riley takes my hand and pulls it behind me, placing it right over his dick, which happens to be at full mast.
Holy shit.
I pull my hand back immediately and whip around to face him.
"Not here," I whisper. "Follow me."
I rush up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and make it to my bedroom without anybody seeing us. Thankfully, my parents are still outside, too busy or plastered to even notice their son is missing.
As soon as Riley enters my room, I shut the door and lock it behind us. There is no way I will risk anybody walking in here. However, as soon as the door closes, my body tenses. It's clear why we're here, and as it hits me, I freak the fuck out.
What does he expect me to do? What am I willing to do? While I may have never experienced any of this stuff first hand, that doesn't mean I'm a total novice. I've definitely watched, and gotten off to, my fair share of porn. I know what I'd like to do. It's just...
"Stop."
"Huh?" I look up at Riley, who's got this sly look on his face.
"You are thinking way too much. We don't have to do anything if you don't want. I'm not trying to frighten you," he says as he takes three steps towards me, closing the gap between us.
My eyes shut reflexively when his hand comes up to my face and strokes my cheek. I feel his warm breath against my skin right before he places a gentle kiss right on the edge of my jaw. His lips never leave my face as he trails up to press another kiss on my cheek, then back down again to my lips. This kiss lasts for a few seconds longer, but he doesn't try to deepen it.
"Mmm..." He sighs. "Minty. I like."
Just as I pucker for more, his lips leave mine, traveling to my other cheek, then back down to my jaw. I swear I feel his teeth scrape at my stubble, which sends sparks rippling through my body. He continues to move at an excruciatingly slow pace, tasting the skin on my neck and collarbone before working his way back up to my face, ghosting past my lips more than once.
The heat that Riley sets off in my face spreads throughout the rest of my body, and soon I'm buzzing with need.
I need to be touched more.
I need to touch him.
Right before I'm about to scream out in desperation, Riley inches his way even closer and presses his body up against mine. His teeth nips at my ear, tugging it down.
"More?" he asks, his voice all husky and deep in my ear.
"P-p-please." I'm so close to begging.
"Show me," he says and steps back, putting my hands around his wrists. "Show me where."
I gulp, unsure what to do, but follow his instruction. I move his hands to my body, starting at my chest. His fingers splay out, feeling the skin that peeks out from my shirt, and I shiver at his touch. I then bring his hands to my shoulders and down my arms. His hands grip at my biceps as I bring them back up, and I enjoy the feel of his thumbs tracing circles against the muscle.
I grab his wrists tighter and pull his hands down so they make a path down my chest to my stomach. His fingers wiggle a bit, and I jump at the tickles.
"Watch it..." I warn, and Riley just snorts.
"Oh, I'm watching it, all right."
My face flushes with heat at his insinuation, but it doesn't deter me from moving his hand to my hips. Riley grips them tightly and bends down, kneeling in front of me, allowing for easier movement. I take his wrists and move them so his hands are now cupping my ass. This pulls him even closer, and his face is essentially at dick level. I let go of his wrists to see what he'll do, and Riley immediately drops his hands from my ass.
My face flushes again, but this time in embarrassment. Why did he stop? When I look down at Riley, he's staring at me through his thick eyelashes, looking up at me expectantly.
"You...you can keep going," I say, hoping that he is just waiting for my confirmation.
Apparently that's all it takes, because within the next second Riley's hands are back on my ass. He's squeezing and kneading and UNF!...it feels so fucking good. It doesn't hurt that his face is now right in front of my dick.
I whine when I feel one of his hands slip from my ass. But when he moves it to the bulge in front of my pants and squeezes? I almost fall over.
"Yes," I hiss out, hoping he'll touch me more.
Riley starts rubbing me up and down through my pants, but it's not enough. I need more pressure, more friction, more...him. I reach down and pull him up. He glances at me quickly, a nervous look in his eyes. I don't even bother with any words, choosing to let my lips do the talking.
I lunge for his face, and it's a bit awkward at first, since my lips don't fully capture his, but then something clicks. It's a mash of lips and tongues, and it's so fucking hot. My hands wrap around Riley's neck and weave their way into his hair, pulling him closer. He responds with a groan and threads his own fingers through my belt loops, tugging me towards him. I can feel him, all of him, and knowing that he's just as excited makes me crazy. I push up against him, needing some sort of pressure down there, and he meets me thrust for thrust.
After greedily devouring his lips, I need to taste more and move to sample his jaw and chin and neck. Riley's panting and groaning spurs me on, and in a moment of bravery, I allow my hand to find it's way to his dick, which is straining against his pants.
"Fuck, Marcus!" he shouts. I quickly cover his mouth with mine in case he calls out any louder.
We continue kissing while I rub my hand up and down his length and try to grab a hold of it through his pants, which is nearly impossible. I'm not sure that I'm daring enough to actually stick my hand in his pants yet, so I just continue to do my best, rubbing and tugging on him through his clothes. He seems to be enjoying himself, which is good, since this is the first time I've ever done anything remotely like this.
I certainly don't count the awful over the clothes fumble I resorted to with Lauren Mallory when we were freshman as anything. That sealed the deal that I was gay for sure. Any thoughts of Lauren Mallory slip from my mind when I feel Riley's fingers slip below the waistband of my pants. My hand freezes on him, and his mouth moves up to my ear as he checks in with me.
"Is this still okay?"
I may have been surprised, but I still want to keep going. Nodding, I take his wrist again and basically shove his hand down my pants. When his fingers curl around me, I groan, amazed by how fucking awesome it feels to have somebody's hand besides your own on you. Riley is quick to find a rhythm that feels perfect to me. He moves his hand deftly up and down, pausing to twist at the head and wiping the bit of precum that leaks out the tip. I'm not going to last long at this rate. When he removes his hand and all I feel is a rush of cool air, I whimper, wondering what he's doing.
His hand is back only seconds later, and now instead of dry, it's warm and wet.
Holy fuck!
My stomach is all coiled up in knots, and it just gets tighter and tighter as Riley keeps jerking me off. I close my eyes, unable to focus on anything besides how good he's making me feel. I'm moaning and swearing, but I don't give a shit. I'm so fucking close. It doesn't take much more, and a few tugs later, I'm exploding all over his hand and my shirt, which I've neglected to push up out of the way.
My legs are weak, and I stagger backwards onto my bed. Unbuttoning my shirt, I pull it off and use it to clean myself before offering it to Riley. He wipes his hand and flops down onto the bed next to me.
"Fuck..." is all I can manage to say.
"Fuck good or?" he asks, a smidge of doubt creeping into his voice.
"So fucking good," I say and pull him down onto me, kissing the shit out of him. My hand slides back down to feel him still hard and throbbing against his pants, and I really want to make him feel as good as he made me feel.
"You...you don't have to, Marcus," he says, but I can clearly hear the need in his voice.
I ignore his words and shut him up with my lips, sucking his bottom one into my mouth. I buck up against him, and soon we're back to thrusting against each other, only this time it's a lot easier since we're on the bed. I can't even be bothered to slide my hand in between us, but Riley doesn't seem to notice and is soon writhing on top of me, repeating "Fuck!" over and over again. I can't contain my grin that I'm actually getting him off.
My mouth moves to his neck and up to his ear, which I suck on, causing him to groan and lose his shit completely. I rock back into his hips a few more times, watching as he reaches his peak quickly.
"Damn, Marcus," he pants as he rolls off me. "And you've never been with a guy before?"
He raises an eyebrow at me, but I know he's teasing. I toss him my shirt, and he uses that to wipe himself off, mumbling under his breath about losing his load in his pants.
"Sorry?" It comes out more like a question because I'm really not sorry I just did that, and Riley isn't either as he shakes his head with a laugh.
"Don't be," he reassures me and reaches over for a quick kiss.
"So..."
"Well..."
We both start at the same time, and there's a moment of awkwardness that passes between us.
"Um, thanks?"
I'm apparently only able to make uncertain statements lately. I am thankful, however. I know that nothing is going to be able to come of this, but I want Riley to know that I'm appreciative of it.
"I...I'm going off to school, and fuck. Well, you heard my father before," I try and explain. "I...I can't really do anything right now. As much as I want to..."
I really hope he understands.
Riley stands up and looks down at me, his eyes blurred with sadness. He extends his hand and pulls me up so we're standing, facing one other.
"You sweet thing," he whispers as he presses a soft kiss to my cheek.
He rests his forehead against mine and closes his eyes.
"I promise," Riley says, his voice still quiet. "It gets better. You'll be gone soon and doing your own thing. You'll discover who you are and what you like. You'll find all sorts of cute boys. And trust me...the cute boys will find you."
He laughs softly before kissing my forehead.
"Thanks," I repeat, this time with more conviction.
"No, thank you," Riley retorts, this time with a wink and his cocky demeanor is back in full force as he gives me one last lingering kiss on the lips and then slaps my ass before leaving my room.
I sink back into my bed and close my eyes. My mind replays what just happened, and I let out a content sigh. Not only did Riley give me one fantastic hand job, but he also gave me some hope.
A/N: In case you were curious, the title for this outtake was chosen in a nod to the Glee episode of the same name. If you have not yet watched it (original air date of 11/9) I urge you to do so asap!