Reviews:
Jay Sketchin : YEEEEET
Snake557 : Aw thanks friend! I appreciate it.
Burgie : She most definitely gets a self-care day a-la Turbo, that is for sure! And, thank you! I appreciate it a lot :D
Song Listened To :
Hurry Up! by Superfruit
*WARNING*
This chapter contains explicit, detailed, sexual content between two men. If this does not interest you, please wait to read Chapter 83 - it will be uploaded on Sunday July 28th! You will not miss any (detrimental) plot points by skipping this chapter - you will miss Wren's and Throttle's spike in relational and character development as well as a tiny coding detail that will eventually be expanded on. Thanks guys!
A/N :
So... I most definitely WOULD apologize for the sheer length of this BEHEMOTH of a chapter, but I'm positive that those of you that are excited for Wren and Throttle's relationship, wouldn't complain at all lol! I ALMOST halved this chapter, but I didn't have the heart. I could've easily chopped it in two, OR even three, but I felt it right to just include everything and anything in one go. I mean, this chapter ALONE could be considered a one shot. It's insane how quickly a small idea can get away from me xD For those of you that do and don't like this sort of thing, I didn't want to keep anyone waiting any longer than y'all had to. So, on that note...
Enjoy Out of the Blue's first sexual scene! ;)
*Chapter 82*
With a groan of mild regret, Wren scrunched his eyes tight and lazily wrestled his opened palm into the depths of his left eye socket. In a firm rub, knowing full well tomorrow would likely include a hearty hangover, he furrowed his eyebrows in tender surprise. What he could've sworn was his final act of getting from Turbo's teleportation pad to the teleportation pad just outside his, Berri's and Theo's tower, he flinched as he heard the gentle rustle of keys to his right. With a pop of his blue eyes, he dart his now prickled attention about and was floored to find that he was just measly one teleportation pad off; the silent, snowy, moonlit stretch of palace grounds between his tower and Throttle's abode now glowed in pride, as if to insinuate to Wren that he was in the wrong and right spot, all in one single plop.
"O-Oh, you... Did you mean to come to my teleport pad?" Throttle wondered in a bristled show of almost excited confusion, his black eyebrows were raised in poised anticipation, the way his hand was frozen in a hover about his shiny house key, which was firmly stabbed into the lock of his lovely front door; an old soul that just couldn't get into the idea of properly using his digital touch-pad, next to his front door, as a way of getting in and out of his house.
Wren opened his mouth and huffed a faltered, fogged breath of whole bewilderment. He shot his tower a sharp look of confusion, as if he could absolutely swear he hit the right button to be sent straight home. He scratched the back of his head in further confusion, and as both the palace lot and Throttle's now frozen demeanor hung in anticipated wait, Wren sagged his arm to his side, slumped his shoulders and shot Throttle a cheeky, apologetic smile.
"I must've accidentally hit your name on Turbo's teleportation pad," Wren huffed with a cute smile, he shook his head and allowed his feet to take the gentle steps in motion to head out of Throttle's patio, down his stoop, and across the stretch of snow. He knew him and Throttle had hit it off at Turbo's exciting house party, though for some reason, he was certain the night concluded there. Any aspect of private after-parties didn't even register in his brain, and with such, he tenderly shot Throttle a small smile and waved, "Sorry, I-I... I guess I must be more buzzed than I thought."
"No, it's fine, i-it's..." Throttle staggered, the frigid air before him fogged, he left his key in the lock, with the delicate tinkering of his keychains that he now unhanded, he faced Wren's turned figure and bit his lip in a spike of forced confidence that came flooding him. He felt his heart throb in a confusing pulse of an ironic twist of certainty and nervousness, though he desperately tried to lean into his younger brother's words. Throttle knew mildly uncomfortable situations often lead to beautiful things, and although he already hit his bravery quota for the night, he scanned his loved front porch and wondered just how far he could push said quota. He could feel Wren's figure hovering in a halted scuff of anticipation, and with such, the gentle, white glow of Throttle's eyes lovingly glossed in Wren's direction, "M-maybe it was for a reason. I-I mean... You're here, you... You might as well come in."
Wren raised his eyebrows a little and looked off in contemplation; he could swear this wouldn't be something on the agenda, though he recalled the spikes of confidence Throttle had been successfully deploying all over him, tonight, and was now silently telling himself that he shouldn't be surprised. With Throttle's inviting words, Wren suddenly felt his stomach dip in a weird mixture of dreaded, giddy anticipation. The very idea of coming home with someone, the notion of both boys being alone, the tense build up of flirting and even sensual banter that they had been enduring all night long, Wren was certain that it'd just dissipate for the night, and that tomorrow was a new day, likely sat back at square one. Wren cocked an eyebrow and sagged his humble eye contact right into Throttle's, a new, shy show of cheeky knowing that Throttle now crowned, it was here did Wren entirely understand that all of the boys, in the Black family name, were far cheekier, sneakier and intuitive than any of them lead on.
"...Y'got more alcohol?" Wren blurt with a small chuckle, it was here did Throttle beam a wide smile and choke a hard laugh out to the cold air, the patio before him fogged with such fervor. Wren's smile widened even more, and as he gently eased back into the dim, yellow glow of Throttle's lovely, sleepy, snowy patio, he sagged his hands into his grey coat pockets and shook his head in Throttle's direction, "I'm gunna need more of it. Hear me out... I'm thinking if I just keep drinking, it'll cancel out the potential for a nasty hangover, tomorrow."
"I do have alcohol, but I don't think your reasoning lines up," Throttle chuckled, his deep voice glossed over Wren in a new form of boyish comfort they fell into, together, and with Wren's warm body now soaked into Throttle's bubble, Throttle's confident hand grappled his keys, once more, and unlatched his door's hefty lock, "We can have another toast, but... Let's maybe also eat something... Drink some water. I don't want you to be miserable, tomorrow."
"That's nice of you," Wren mumbled, as much as Wren just wanted to carry on the night with more toasts, he sagged into Throttle's mature, loving care and was well aware Throttle had decades of wisdom over him.
Throttle bobbed a small nod, and as he welcomed the both of them into his warm home, he began to feel his temples dot with beads of the beginning of a cold sweat. He suddenly prolonged the night between the both of them, an innocent notion to not let go of these strange new feelings now began to push into the limits and boundaries of his shivering, introverted heart. He eyed the back of Wren's head as Wren took of his coat and his shoes, Throttle furrowed his eyebrows and felt a weird wave of newness fall over him. As desperately as he wanted to shell away and be nearly just as introverted as Turbo was, he felt his strange desire to continue to do said shelling away, though from here on out, he didn't want to do it without Wren's bubbly, understanding presence. Throttle nervously began to take off his coat and shoes, as well, and as they hovered in Throttle's little mudroom, just near his lovely grey-tiled foyer, he hovered in the tender silence they both fell into.
Throttle felt the urge to gulp hang in the back of his throat. He suddenly took on the roll of host, the special guest he now was welcoming into the depths of his nervous, shivering heart, he wondered just exactly how vulnerable he could be with Wren. It was here did Throttle now fully understand how Turbo felt trying to court Berri; someone so many Arcade years younger than him, someone with such a fresh, small bout of life experience as opposed to the swathe of decades the TurboTime boys harbored, Throttle felt a strange sense of guilt plague him. Before the confusing thoughts of his late ex-girlfriend could take him down and beg him to cut this new, fresh get-together at the quick, he shook his head and hung his coat on a nearby coat hook, just near the sprawling black bench of his dim mud room. Throttle knew he needed to let go of his past, a past that didn't make him happy, a past that only confused him and left him wanting something more, something different. He was well aware he bravely invited Wren in for a reason, and just like that, he almost annoyingly scolded himself for setting himself up like this. What random spikes of confidence looked like in the lull of uncertainty that followed, simply minutes after, looked like the highest, scariest mountains of doom.
"Could've sworn I hit the button for MY teleportation pad," Wren continued to scold himself quietly as both men eased out of the mudroom and into the small corridor that lead to Throttle's airy kitchen, one of which looked out and opened up to his lovely living room. Throttle gently switched on the few wall lights, and as his home came to life with warmth, he teasingly gave the back of Wren's head a knowing smirk, "I must be more out of it than I thought..."
"For such a huge mistake, you don't seem too keen to correct it," Throttle volleyed skillfully, a swathe of confidence he was determined to just force until even he believed it.
"The guy I like taunts me all night long and then invites me back to his place for more food and drinks?" Wren lofted with a cute smile over his shoulder, he rounded Throttle's island and eyed the cabinet near his stainless steel fridge; the cabinet that held a few elegant bottles of fine wine, "I may be young, but I'm not stupid. I know what's good for me."
"You lowkey invited yourself," Throttle choked a laugh, a teasing, cheeky side that he was now becoming comfortable with showing Wren a little bit more; Wren gaped and furrowed his brow in rising banter.
"I mean I CAN leave, is that what you'd like?" Wren returned in a playful stab, Throttle blurt a laugh and, much to Wren's delight, he eased to his wine cabinet and snatched one of his favorite wines.
"No, I wouldn't like that," Throttle pressed in warm, raspy conclusion, his deep voice reverberated from his rib cage in certainty, and as he came to the island with two wine glasses and a full bottle of wine, he shot Wren a kind smile and shook his head, "I-It's been awhile since, well..."
"You had a guy over?" Wren pressed nonchalantly, as if this was just a normal situation for Throttle; not knowing the full story of Throttle's past, he eyed Wren in gentle contemplation and wondered if maybe huge, pressing details would even stick, the evening of bumbling through drinks and emotions had Throttle wondering if this would potentially be the perfect situation to break the ice.
"Well... No, to be honest with you, I've never had, well... A guy over," Throttle tried not to get too serious, though as he poured him and Wren a hearty glass of wine each, he cocked an eyebrow and gently gave Wren a kind, nervous smile; Wren stood up a little straighter and furrowed his eyebrows.
"... I thought I was the only noob, here," Wren pressed in genuine sweetness, somehow the idea of Throttle being experienced, in this realm, had Wren putting up a stronger front than necessary, as if he needed to prove himself to Throttle, the idea of showing that he could potentially be a good match for him ruffled with larger, more colorful feathers than what was needed; Wren now was wondering if said mildly cocky, sassy front would eventually just scare Throttle off.
"No, no, you're... Not alone," Throttle staggered with a nervous laugh as he gently corked the wine, handed Wren his glass and gently held up his own, so the two could cheers, "I may have relationship experience, but... I-I... I'm fr-freshly out of the closet, my friend. This is all pretty new to me."
"Oh, wow, well..." Wren clutched his chest and almost felt relieved. He beamed Throttle a smile and felt walls begin to crumple, as if they now could resonate with each other, level with one another, and really understand that they were both mildly flying blind, Wren smiled a sweet smile and was almost relieved he could take down his sassy, cocky front and just simply be himself in front of Throttle, who had no expectations. Wren held up his glass, and in a new wave of warm, sweet confidence that sapped the two, Wren knew to immediately switch up his game from hard to get, to tender loving care, a catering sense of nurturing Wren was well aware they now both needed, here, "I may not have decades of trying to figure out my sexuality, under my belt, but... It's nice to have camaraderie."
"Cheers to that," Throttle pressed cutely, and as both boys gently chimed their glasses together, they each took a hearty swig.
Throttle swallowed hard and nervously looked across his kitchen. Having previously been in a sexual relationship with a woman, from TurboTime, he felt his veins wiggle in weird delight. Everything he had previous experience with included the opposite sex, different cues and wants and desires that were lofted his way were all things he stored away for later, thinking it was all knowledge he'd eventually use again. Although he had wrestled with his sexuality, and wondered just why he had begun to feel different in his thinking, he was delighted to find that his curious wonderings didn't flat line the second he was given an opportunity to expand on them. With Wren's now warm and inviting demeanor putting Throttle's whole universe at ease, he felt his stomach begin to line with butterflies. With the rush of emotion that soaked over Throttle, ones of guilt, excitement, dread, curiosity, anticipation, he felt the urge to somehow apologize brim in the back of his throat, a strange desire to entirely open up, a good friend he had now delightfully shown a healthy amount of romantic interest in.
"I-I... I'm excited for our ice cream date," Throttle pressed nervously, Wren furrowed his brow and eyed Throttle in anticipatory confusion.
"Me too, I'm glad you asked me," Wren encouraged, Throttle huffed a shaky breath and nodded.
"I-I'm sorry if... Well... I-I just am no good at this," Throttle began to cave in on himself, he inwardly scolded himself, knowing full well this was a downward spiral that was likely due to scaring Wren off, "I-I'm only really used to doing this kind of thing with, well... A woman. It was so long ago, and I just have entirely lost touch, and-"
"Hey, easy," Wren kindly begged, he choked a small laugh, and much to Throttle's delight, Wren gently sagged his hand to Throttle's lower arm in a calm show of steadiness, "You don't need to explain yourself. Neither of us have experience with this, y'know? So, why don't we just get to know each other further, and have a good time tonight. We can complicate conversation and make things heavy later."
Throttle raised his eyebrows and gently eased his creepy, pixel-cubed stare into Wren's, an equal amount of love and understanding easily lofted to one another, it was here did Throttle feel as if he had made a solid decision in attempting to wrangle Wren into his shivering heart. The idea of delving into deeper topics, that Wren insinuated, left Throttle feeling hopeful, that this wouldn't be a one and done, that this little ember of love could easily be fanned into something grand. Throttle smiled down to his wine glass and ran his finger over the rim, he huffed a small chuckle and finally gave Wren a sweet smile of tender gratitude, more walls that continued to come down in honor of their very first little date night, something neither of them anticipated for tonight.
"Thank you," Throttle concluded with a small nod, his heart throbbed, the urge to hug Wren made his arms itch, though he reigned it in and knew to likely move things slowly.
"You're welcome," Wren pressed kindly, though much to Throttle surprise, Wren warmly eased his arms about Throttle's middle and gave him a squeeze of a side hug that Throttle bashfully obliged to, "I really put myself in the position of attempting to seek out women, but... Then I got a front row seat to all of Turbo's struggles with it. Huge turn off."
"Poor Turbo," Throttle choked a laugh, and as the two gently unraveled from each other's soft and warm embrace, Throttle pressed to his cabinet and opened it wide, he peered to Wren over his shoulder in a show of cute bashfulness, "It's not for everyone, I guess. Turbo's situation goes a little deeper than simply going after just ANY woman. We're talking about Sugar Rush's future Queen."
"Tessa's daughter," Wren bugged his eyes.
"The fieriest of princesses," Throttle concluded with a knowing look, he cutely brought over a box of cake mix and jostled it about before setting it on the island, "He's a brave soul, that's for sure."
"...You're going to bake a cake?" Wren pressed with a hard laugh, and although the buzz of the previous bit of alcohol he had, earlier in the night, was finally wearing off, this new, fresh glass of wine began to tingle the underside of his brain, once more.
"I don't know, man, I don't know who I am anymore," Throttle barked with a sudden laugh as he lazily thrusted the box to his kitchen island; Wren erupted in laughter as Throttle sagged and pathetically stared at the now disheveled box, haphazardly on its side, "Sure. I have a random box of cake mix that Nox left here and I had no one to bake it with, so... Sure. Let's bake a cake. Who doesn't like cake?"
"Theo," Wren argued in full irritation, though he leaned over the kitchen island, grappled the box into his hand and stood to correction, so he could read over just what kind of cake mix this was; a birthday confetti type, Wren's eyes lit up in delight, "That freak doesn't have a sweet tooth. He's related to Vanellope Von Schweetz and DOESN'T have a sweet tooth."
"Neither does Tessa, from what I've heard," Throttle mumbled kindly, he bent over and began to rummage through his lower cabinet, likely for a mixing bowl and a baking pan, so to complete their new chore, "Then again, I wasn't a racer in one of Litwak's most popular racing games. I guess I'm not one to talk."
"It's okay, I'm useless in this game too, remember?" Wren mumbled, Throttle gently set the bowl and pan near Wren and began to ease closer to his large fridge, so to get out the ingredients for the cake. Wren cocked an eyebrow and shot Throttle a kind smile as he waggled the box about, "We can be useless together. Turn this uselessness into... Well..."
"MAD baking skills," Throttle completed, both boys loudly laughed with each other.
"I mean, Sugar Rush DOES need sweets," Wren shrugged as Throttle came over with a container of eggs and a thing of butter. He then returned, a second time, with sugar and a jug of milk, "That's something I get from my mom. She loves to bake."
"We're not useless," Throttle mumbled sweetly, "Did you know that two gamers, without any power ups, can swap and gain random powers?"
"...Wait WHAT?" Wren furrowed his eyebrows and now stared Throttle down with purpose, and although Throttle's face turned red at the tender insinuation, he choked a laugh as Wren suddenly grappled Throttle's arm, "WE CAN DO THAT!"
"Wren," Throttle now loudly began to belly laugh, Wren jostled him around.
"You're telling me that if we swap codes, you and I will get POWER UPS? RANDOMLY?" Wren shouted, Throttle now shut his eyes and silent-laughed. Wren shook his head and couldn't help but laugh along, "I have NEVER heard anything like this before. C'mon, just keep drinking, we'll make it work!"
"For User's sake, Wren," Throttle wheezed as he desperately grappled for the cake mix box. He opened the box, pried open the bag of loose cake mix and began to messily pour the proper ingredients in the bowl. He tried his hardest to collect himself as Wren playfully hovered tight to his side, teasingly watching his every move, "I-It's EXTREMELY rare. I've never even met someone where that was a possibility, but I've heard it has happened, before."
"I wonder what the statistic is," Wren fingers his lip and looked across Throttle's lovely kitchen, he sagged his shoulder and furrowed his brow, "Maybe we should ask Tessa or Turbo, or someone, about it. Y'think they'd know the science behind that?"
"I'm sure they'd know something, Turbo for sure would," Throttle nodded, "Believe it or not, that guy probably knows a LOAD more about coding than Tessa and Vanellope combined. Got a coding question? He's the guy to ask, for sure."
"Hmmmm," Wren dragged as he continued to finger his lip in contemplation, though Throttle heaved a long, hot sigh and shook his head. Although his cheeks were beet red, he began to feel nervous over the raw fact that now glossed the bridge of his nose; his eyes began to turn that dreaded, lovely peachy tint of bashfulness that was well on its way to obvious arousal.
"You're not going to use me for the one in a million chance of gaining a power up," Throttle playfully shot down, though Wren rolled his eyes and slumped his arms to his sides.
"If my coding granted you the ability to FLY, you'd be so eternally grateful," Wren argued with a hard laugh, he grabbed his glass of wine and took a healthy swig. He swallowed, eyed Throttle in cheeky goodness and smirked, "You'd be wondering why we hadn't have done anything sooner."
"I'm not so easily swayed, my friend," Throttle grumbled with a smile he desperately tried to hide, he shook his head and began to pour the ingredients in the bowl; he knew Wren would likely help out when it came to decorating said cake. Throttle shook his head as he began to firmly stir the messy, golden cake batter mixture, "I went thirty years without any shred of intimacy with anyone. Y'think the prospect of an only one in a million chance for a power up, right in front of me, is going to sway me?"
"No, I'm confident it'd be something else that'd sway you," Wren stated confidently as he furrowed his eyebrows and nonchalantly shrugged, he watched Throttle's strong arms stir the cake batter in the silver mixing bowl he cradled. Wren cheekily smiled, swiped a finger into the cake batter, dolloped a little on his finger and was floored to catch Throttle's attention to the point of slowing his mixing. Wren cocked an eyebrow and waggled his pointer finger in the air, showing the dollop of batter he was about to delightfully consume, "The prospect of new power ups would be, well... The icing on the cake."
Throttle cocked an eyebrow and slowed his stirring to a stop as Wren gently sagged his finger into his own mouth and tamely sucked the batter clean off his skin. Although a seemingly innocent gesture, laced with the raw, teasing sweetness just eking from Wren's pores, Throttle felt his coding wiggle in nervous, anxious delight. Throttle huffed a shaky chuckle and now felt as if this whole entire new adventure wasn't simply just a spark of confused feelings, the whole prospect of not feeling wholly complete seemingly saw itself out. With a rush of feelings Throttle was now desperately trying to get ahold of, to put a finger on, he scoffed a small laugh, bashfully smiled into the mixture and began to stir, once more. He could feel his hands shake, the way his heart confidently thud in his chest, unlike ever before, he felt as if his soul had come alive in this instance, the fresh feeling of a new beginning. Although it was laced in late night drinks and the prospects of baking and decorating a cake whilst drunk, Throttle knew that there was something here. Something he was certain Wren was feeling, as well, a certain something Throttle was well aware Wren was now due to sniffing out in one fell swoop.
"Sure, the power ups are a one in a million chance, but," Wren trailed, Throttle now shot him a teasingly annoyed smile and furrowed his eyebrows, "I'm a one in a million catch."
"Smooth," Throttle stated in a dull tone with a smile that proved he was being playful, though in the rush to thwart Wren's playfully cocky air, Throttle also dolloped his finger into the wet batter and gently splayed the broad of it on Wren's cheek.
Amidst the breath of being prepared to carry on, Wren was jolted out of his thoughts as Throttle scrunched his shoulders, huffed a wheezy, cheeky laugh through his teeth and now began to nervously step away from Wren, in fear of retaliation. Wren gaped, froze and now gave Throttle a cold hard stare of unadulterated surprise, though in the few seconds where Wren was frozen, Throttle stifled hard laughter and put a decent amount of distance between him and Wren. In a teasing, tight-lipped show of irritation, Wren jolted for Throttle's positioning, and although Throttle loudly laughed and jumped away, Wren was successful in swiping the mixing bowl from Throttle's hands. Throttle choked a hard laugh, as did Wren, as they scuffled about Throttle's large kitchen island. They hung on opposite sides, when Wren jolted to hug the island and get closer to Throttle, Throttle did everything he could to scurry around the other end of the island.
"Okay, NOW there's barely even a one in a million chance that you'll get any form of action, tonight," Wren barked, and although Throttle wasn't technically expecting anything to spark between the two, so soon, he somehow knew, in the back of his mind, this kind of banter would arise, a hot topic brimming at the edges of their minds.
"I told you, I went thirty years without it, babe," Throttle choked through laughter, the sheer amount of smiling he had done in the span of this whole evening was more than he can remember doing in the whole entirety of his life.
"You're starting to sound like Turbo," Wren grunted, and with a gentle fling of his finger, he accidentally shot a healthy splay of cake batter in Throttle's direction; it easily splattered the broad of Throttle's chest, thus dirtying his shirt. Wren gaped in sheepish, smiling apology and now scrunched his shoulders in cheeky defeat.
"HEY!" Throttle complained with a hard laugh, he grappled the chest of his now dirty shirt and jostled it about in teasing anger, "I like this shirt!"
"Oh, just throw it in the wash, don't be a baby about it," Wren argued, though with Wren's guard now down, Throttle carefully began to unbutton his shirt and mosey across the stretch.
In the seconds he had Wren in a disarmed manner, Throttle jolted for the mixing bowl Wren was now lazily holding. Wren huffed a loud noise of defiance, though the second he realized he was now disarmed, he barked a nervous laugh and began to haphazardly bounce away from Throttle in giddy back steps of uneducated footwork. Throttle gently dug his first two fingers into the batter, messily set the mixing bowl to the island and was now fully prepared to chase Wren throughout the entire house. Wren loudly complained through wheezes of hard laughter both boys were now swallowed by, and as Wren began to nervously fumble out of Throttle's kitchen, Throttle tried his hardest to swipe his now messy fingers at Wren's chest.
"No-no-no, c'mere, I deserve this," Throttle choked hard, teary laughter as Wren did everything he could to now navigate backwards about Throttle's living room furniture.
"We can talk about this, can't we?" Wren urged in a high pitched tone of playful worry, he blurt a laugh as he gently bumped into an end table near Throttle's huge splay of an L couch.
"No, we can't," Throttle teased with a widening smile, one that was about to crack his face in half, though just as he took a firm, hefty swipe at Wren's chest, Wren successfully jumped away and began to bolt for Throttle's kitchen, "You're the idiot that dirtied my shirt."
"You're the idiot that left the mixing bowl unattended," Wren shouted as he now tore through Throttle's house, and in a spike of playful terror, a rush of adrenaline, Throttle jolted to keep up with Wren.
"No! Haven't you made enough of a mess?" Throttle yelled after Wren, and although Wren beat Throttle to the mixing bowl in a swipe of a tight cradle into his own arms, both boys skid to a stop at the edge of the kitchen island; they both panted, and as Wren whirled around and pointed his now batter-covered two fingers in Throttle's direction, they peered hard into each other's eyes with playful, boyish surprise.
"Come any closer and I'll put it in your hair," Wren barked, and although it was a seemingly innocent remark, Throttle beamed a cheeky smile and side-eyed Wren in hot knowing. Wren sagged his shoulders, rolled his eyes and looked off in blushing defeat.
"Will you now?" Throttle teased, he only playfully waggled his eyebrows, though he choked a laugh as Wren gently shoved the peek of Throttle's bare chest, through the gape of his now widely unbuttoned shirt, with his clean hand.
"That was a threat, not a promise," Wren muttered in dewy, blushing delight, both boys remained heightened on a sky-high soar of anticipation, just wondering where the drop would be, Throttle was now nearly determined to find it, to grapple Wren into the nonsense of it all and just plummet into something neither of them knew much of anything about.
Throttle gently panted, the building rush to somehow up the ante, to push this night from playful to interesting had Throttle's heart racing. Although he was entirely uncertain how to recall old memory files of dusty romance, he could feel his heart just burst open with purpose, the feeling of acceptance, of wholeness, Throttle knew not to let this night, this moment, escape him. Throttle felt Wren's curious, blue gaze peer up into his eyes, nearly piercing his soul, and although it was lightly intimidating, both boys hovered in a gap of building uncertainty, a billowing show of anticipatory wait that neither of them really knew how to simply relieve. It wasn't until Wren's gentle eyes so subtly glanced to Throttle's mouth did Throttle feel confidence just flood his whole entire being, as if that was the only thing he needed to feel as if both boys were on the same page. Throttle inhaled a steady breath and dove in to the deep end head first.
With the solid amount of height Throttle had over Wren, and the foot or two gap between them, Throttle tenderly leaned down a bit and was eternally grateful Wren stayed still and patiently awaited Throttle's gentle show of confidence. In a warm push, Throttle lulled his eyes closed and shyly sealed Wren's first kiss. The way Wren inhaled a deep, long breath through his nose, in a rile of surprise, assured Throttle that Wren was entirely not expecting such a burst of confidence. Although tame, Throttle hovered tight in their first kiss, the warm pucker of their lips sinking into each others, the small tilt of their heads as they slowly relished in each other's breath, in each other's scent and close proximity. Although Throttle just barely broke their kiss in a string of sticky lips that peeled from the other, both boys hovered in the gentle peel, and without so much as a curious glance, Throttle ducked back in for seconds the instant Wren messily shrugged the mixing bowl to the kitchen island at his left side.
Knowing full well that Throttle's shirt was already dirty, Wren's lightly shaking and batter covered fingers gently grappled the wrinkles that now sagged down Throttle's bare arms and chest, the unbuttoned mess of cloth that bunched at his elbows, Wren felt his brain run wild with the sudden rush of needy desire that cloaked the two in a veil of molten passion. With the press of their intensifying kiss, the tilt of their heads, the stiffening of their spines in a push of an even tighter squeeze into each other's gravity, Wren raised his eyebrows in solid surprise as Throttle's clean hand gently cupped the back of Wren's head, the slick shave of his golden white hair that dribbled to longer strands atop his head, edges of said strands in which Throttle's fingers found. The second Throttle's shirt was now due to sliding off of his being, Wren relished in every single feeling that Throttle now cloaked over his bashfully shivering soul, a switch up of neediness Throttle now entirely craved. The second Wren's warm, able hands slid up the broad of Throttle's strong, bare chest was the second Throttle mischievously smiled on Wren's mouth.
With the push of their intensifying kiss, the tilt of their heads, the gentle bristle of their stubble that lined their jaws and chins, Throttle desperately wanted to push said spout of passion further, though something inside him ignited; he was well aware Wren was a rather playful and spirited being, the way to worm into Wren's heart was to simply play his game right back at him. Although maybe insinuating Throttle was about to press things a little bit deeper down the rabbit hole they were now tumbling into, Throttle briefly nibbled Wren's lower lip in the same action of swiping his batter covered finger into the short, buzzed hairs on the side of Wren's head. In a skillful tug, Throttle gently yanked out of Wren's gravity, the smack of their lips suddenly parting, Wren jolted in confusion as Throttle beamed a cheeky smile of defense, back stepped a few times and was now fully prepared to have his ass handed to him. With red cheeks, glossed eyes of budding enchantment, and a growing gape of unadulterated surprise and irritation, Wren huffed a shaky scoff and shook his head.
"Beat you to it," Throttle muttered through his cheeky smile, though he flinched in a spike of excited surprise the second Wren's gape turned to a tight-lipped look of riled, playful anger.
"Okay, that's it, c'mere, NO don't run, get over here," Wren stabbed quickly as he messily grappled the mixing bowl full of batter, he stumbled a little as Throttle suddenly took a running start into his living room, to avoid Wren; he was well aware his home would now likely be trashed with cake batter, though somehow, he was okay with that.
Throttle choked a laugh as his shirt previously fell to the floor, and in this, he messily tripped over it. Although Throttle regained his footing and clumsily corrected himself, Wren stumbled into the same trap and fell into a nearby wall. Although Wren saved the batter and corrected himself as well, both boys loudly howled with laughter as they tore into Throttle's living room. Throttle whirled around and now held his hands out in defeat, the hunch of his shoulders and back, to assume a position of defeat, he pleadingly peered to Wren amidst the core-crunching squeeze of eternal laughter they both shared. Wren's dominant footsteps pressed closer, and as he dug his fingers into the batter and dangled the wet, goopy mess over the bowl, Wren tilted his head up in hot knowing and gestured for Throttle to sit down on his nearby recliner.
"I have stamina, dude, I'll chase you all around the palace if that's what you want," Wren barked, they both were now lost in laughter, big, dewy tears of happiness that sagged to the edges of their eyes, Throttle could hardly catch his breath, "There was one time Berri got honey in my hair during breakfast and I chased her all the way to Chester's old stable. And that brat has glitching powers, you only THINK running around your humble abode will stop me!"
"Okay, just get it over with and we'll be even," Throttle choked, though he barked a startled laugh the second Wren suddenly swiped at his bare chest and successfully dribbled the batter on his bare pecks and collar bones. Throttle wrinkled his nose amidst a laugh, in a rise of teasing dismay, and now stumbled to try and get away, though he faltered as his left knee buckled. He only barely sagged to his nearby recliner, and although he fumbled to try to get back up to a stand, Wren pressed into his gravity and swiped a long, dangly, slimy string of batter onto his fingers once more, though now he eagerly dangled the messy high above Throttle's center. Throttle jolted in cold terror and, through their cries of hard laughter, he sagged into his recliner a little more, held his hands out in defense and could feel the tears of laughter begin to sag down the sides of his face, "FOR USER'S SAKE we'll have no batter left if you keep this up!"
"Not like we can't just go to the store and get more," Wren muttered in delight, though Throttle barked a surprised noise as the cold, wet batter suddenly speckled his chest and stomach.
"AH-USER! It's cold!" Throttle complained as his trembling hand wiped a tear off of his cheek, he nervously shot Wren a look of pleading glee and now began to feel that giddy clench, in his stomach, twist to tense, sexual delight, "Y-You DO know it's like one in the morning. Stores are closed."
"Well then I guess we'll just have to improvise," Wren shrugged, and although Wren was now in hot pursuit of figuring out just how to navigate this new, passionate spark between the two, Wren cocked an eyebrow and felt realization gloss over him, almost in cold surprise.
Decorated like a delicious, haphazardly strewn together pastry, laid vulnerable and defenseless, Throttle's strong chest cavity inhaled a shaky breath, his eyes peered up to Wren in anticipation, almost like a deer in headlights. Throttle huffed a noise, as if to maybe begin to start a sentence, though the idea of it all just evaporated off his lips into an exhale of defeat. Wren held onto the cold, silver mixing bowl in a frozen stall of a dilemma, and although he wanted to maybe ease off of Throttle and assure that the teasing was done, there was something inside of him that bubbled in delight. Knowing full well it was likely fueled by the alcohol provided to him tonight, he smirked a little and was well aware that, even though it was a wave of dulled inhibitions, it was still a wave to be ridden nonetheless, one of which he was certain he wouldn't regret seeing through to the end. Cloaked in far more bravery that Throttle could even begin to keep up with, Wren was well aware that if anything intimate were to go down tonight, he'd likely be the ring leader in this circus, left standing as the only two monkeys dead center.
As both boys held tight eye contact, Throttle's whole face turned beet red in the inevitable that was unfolding. Although concealed in his nice slacks, Wren only barely glanced down to Throttle's just barely sprawled legs and lower half, full aware of the product of all this sexual banter, the seemingly lighthearted and playful foreplay they had somehow traipsed into without even knowing. Wren choked a small chuckle and knew to keep the air between them easy and full of understanding, and in Wren's eyes, the only way he could accomplish that was by reminding the two that laughter was key. Throttle stiffened a little, in cold knowing, and almost shot Wren a defensive look of nervousness, a smile that tilted into bent eyebrows of pleading, as if to beg Wren to understand that somehow, this was all an incredible turn on. The obvious that was becoming of the two only sapped the room with heat that shielded them from the frigid air outside, Wren felt a breath catch in his throat at how real this all suddenly felt, how smoothly it all came together, he felt his knees begin to want to buckle at the thoughts that hit him, the idea that there was no where else he'd rather be.
"We can just make more batter," Wren continued on from his previous notion, and although his words were innocent, Throttle was entirely aware this was an innuendo; Throttle choked a laugh of playful irritation and tensed as Wren successfully set the mixing bowl down and was now fixing to situate himself on his knees.
"Oh, don't even say shit like that," Throttle choked as Wren's sassy, loving smile was now sweetly broadened amidst his closed eyes of understanding, and in a comfortable lull of a hover over Throttle, Wren bravely swiped his finger across Throttle's skin, just above his belly button, and gathered a good amount of cake batter onto his finger.
"We don't even have to bake it, T, it's good just like this," Wren stated cutely, he raised his eyebrows in delight as he shoved the tip of his finger into his mouth and licked off the batter; it was here that Wren could see Throttle literally begin to sweat.
"I-It has raw eggs in it," Throttle politely warned inside of a chuckle, he could hardly catch his breath, he raised his eyebrows in unmitigated surprise the second the floor gently thud with the sound of Wren's knees finally coming to a full kneel, and in the sag, Wren draped his arms over the tops of Throttle's thighs, eased into the gentle spread of his legs and bravely leaned down to lick a speckle of batter just above Throttle's belly button. Throttle could swear his heart was in his throat, he stiffened in a spike of hot, delighted surprise, as if he was floored this kind of thing was even taking place, and although he was quite enjoying himself, Throttle staggered a wary question out into the air, one that dribbled to a trembling breath of sweet, suspended uncertainty, "Wr-Wren..."
"Hmm?" Wren cued, he carried on knowing full well Throttle was enjoying this, the way the muscles in his thighs tensed, the way his chest cavity nearly caved in on itself before sucking in a shaky, anticipatory breath of disbelief, Wren just barely opened his eyes and was quite enjoying the teasing he was deploying, the sheer amount of playful torture it was now putting Throttle through.
As if somehow stirring was getting the better of him, Throttle felt as if it was the only thing that would alleviate his bubbling, rushing emotions. He nervously peered down at Wren and, although he knew exactly what was coming, he felt nervousness about it. A delightful nervousness, one of entire uncertainty, one of question, as if to hope that the second everything went down, he would feel solidified and right about his place in the universe. Throttle felt care in the way of Wren's hands, which warmly held his outer thighs in a small hug of reassurance, the way his upper body hovered over Throttle's legs, the tantalizing laps of Wren's hot, wet tongue all along Throttle's sheet white skin, which was now trailing dangerously close to the lip of Throttle's pants, he sucked in a breath through his teeth and desperately tried to remain calm the second Wren's hand began to fumble with the button and zipper of Throttle's pants.
Although Wren felt his heart thud the bones in his ribcage, he felt confidence surge through him, unlike anything he'd ever felt before. The way Throttle tensed his body and grit his teeth, as if to suggest he was nervous and impatient, all in one go, had Wren's hands trembling in rushing delight, as if somehow moving as fast as he possibly could wouldn't be fast enough. Wren inhaled a deep breath and sat up a little, and in the seductive lick of his lips, to get every last ounce of cake batter, he curiously peered down to his chore as his shaking hands tugged the zipper of Throttle's pants. Although he knew exactly what to expect here, upon reveal, he still firmly swallowed and felt his heart do a wild, giddy dance of readiness, a rush of electricity that shot down his spine, something that begged him to pounce on this opportunity and not look back for a single second. Upon the reveal of Throttle's distention, the gentle grip Wren slowly sagged about the base, Wren cocked an eyebrow and softly lofted his questioning gaze into Throttle's shivering eyes, and if to assure to him that they could stop right here, if that's what Throttle needed.
Although Throttle was thrilled Wren hovered for a second and gave room for the opportunity to further express desire, or lack there of, Throttle huffed a shaky noise of a plea and now wondered how to properly get the point across that he was being driven mad, due to impatience. The sweet, tender look of question in Wren's eyes proved to Throttle that this was a sensitive situation that Wren was ready to take very seriously, Throttle bit his lower lip and understood that the whole of it was about to drive him up a wall. Although unintentional, Throttle nervously shifted in his seat and sat up a little straighter, though upon doing this, he accidentally jostled the tip of his exposed distention directly into the underside of Wren's jaw, causing both boys to flinch. Throttle raised his eyebrows, held his breath and urgently peered down to Wren in apology, though just as he suspected Wren to maybe make a joke, and a trembling apology was to ensue, Throttle was beyond floored to watch Wren cock an eyebrow, peer down to his chore in delight and ready himself. The very vision of Wren's eyes gingerly lulling shut, the gape of his wet lips that now began to slowly prepare to swallow Throttle whole, Throttle felt his spine grow rigid in confused delight.
With the warm encompass, the proper sag of Wren's mouth about him, Throttle inhaled a sharp breath and dug his elbows into the cushions of his recliner. He clenched his teeth and felt a wave of emotion gloss over his figure, the immense amount of pleasure that soaked over his being, he huffed a faltered breath and felt it all to be complete the second Wren firmly grappled Throttle's right hand in his, as if to assure to Throttle that there was love and understanding here. As confusing as life previously was, Wren smiled amidst his tight gape and was floored the both of them were able to start a fresh new page with each other, one that held promise, one that was fun and playful, true and full of surprises. Throttle urgently squeezed Wren's hand as he gently sagged into himself, he scoffed a small, trembling laugh and finally allowed himself to feel the pleasure of it all. The delicious sensation of the wrap of Wren's tongue, the tug of suction, the skill Wren navigated in newness could've easily fooled Throttle.
Wren inhaled a deep, long, raspy breath through his nose and did everything he could to take this slow and be careful, though with the intense grip of Throttle's hand on his own, Wren wrinkled his nose in devious delight and, amidst a burst of bravery, he held his breath and successfully sagged his lips almost down to the base of Throttle's throbbing distention. In a wave of shock, Throttle arched his back and shakily choked a whispering grunt of floored surprise, he gently lulled his head back to the headrest of his recliner and groaned a trembling exhale out to the room, the desperation to moan and groan about the incredible feelings that engulfed him was almost too powerful to resist. Throttle sagged and felt his skin prickle with the firm suction Wren successfully deployed, the yank of his skin and hyper sensitive nerve endings that had a whole entire hay-day over this fiasco, Throttle felt as if he had to pry his eyes from the back of his skull. With a heavy head, and a heaving chest, he urgently peered down to Wren in a sag of delightful exhaustion that he knew he was due for.
Wren eagerly picked up the pace, he could feel Throttle's whole body tense and sag in the roll of electricity that plagued the both of them, he made sure to keep Throttle's hand tight in his grip, though the second Throttle's free hand urgently grappled Wren's right shoulder, Wren nearly popped his eyes open in surprise and knew exactly what was coming, here. In the grapple of Wren's shirt in Throttle's shaking hand, Throttle eagerly began to move his hand to Wren's neck, jaw and then the side of his head. Wren inhaled a readied breath and knew Throttle wouldn't push Wren too far, here, though he still lulled his eyes closed and braced himself for a bit of a rougher go-around. Like expected, Wren gently returned the tight grip of Throttle's right hand and flinched the second Throttle's left hand grappled the top of Wren's head. In a tender tug of an inquiry, Throttle just barely pushed down on the back of Wren's head, and as both boys gently fell into rhythm with each other, Wren felt his heart burst open the second Throttle's body continued to cave even deeper into itself, the sound Wren was patiently waiting for, the certain, shaky reverberation of Wren's name that shook from the back of Throttle's dry throat, it coat his ceiling in absolute clarity, something that made every ounce of coding, underneath Wren's skin, just come alive with purpose.
Wren hummed a loud noise amidst the mouth full and smiled, a chuckle of encouragement and understanding that shook from his rib cage only made Throttle's fingers begin to grapple the white hair atop Wren's head. Before they knew it, Wren felt himself repeatedly sagging his wet lips to the base of Throttle's bulge, over and over, the speed and rush of it all had him astounded that he was capable of it all, length, girth and everything. Wren's heart throbbed with purpose, the firm inhale through his nose, accompanied by the tightest amount of suction his mouth could afford, had Throttle's now raspy, quaking voice urgently groaning Wren's name to his high ceiling above, an echo that Wren was entirely certain he would never get tired of hearing, and it was in the mess of gentle thrusts and grapples did Wren understand just what was on the horizon. Throttle nervously shifted in his chair, and although he wanted to continue gently tugging on the back of Wren's head, he messily let go, grappled Wren's broad shoulder and shakily pleaded his name, this time with more urgency and fervor, something that cued Wren to understanding just how detrimental this all was; a collection of any form of interior coding, into any orifice, could potentially mess with the fragility of the interior coding of the recieving party, something that wasn't previously discussed.
As easily as Throttle could even begin to explain all that by just simply stating Wren's name over and over, in a quaking, dry urge of apprehension, Wren gently slid Throttle's long distention out of his mouth with added suction, and with a wet smack of a pop, Wren inhaled a deep, gasping breath through his mouth and bashfully peered up into Throttle's eyes in full, tender surprise, a dewy kiss of maturity now crowned on both boys' auras, Wren panted and was quick to grapple Throttle's bulge, the product of all the excitement, he knew not to leave Throttle simply hanging due to ground rules neither boys knew how to previously expand on. Throttle choked a noise of uncertainty and peered hard into Wren's eyes, as if to show apology, though just as Throttle was due to sit up and maybe begin to spout out words of nervousness, of uncertainty, of just what would happen if Wren were to swallow Throttle's interior coding, Wren urgently shook his head and began to please Throttle with his hand. With the shockwave of confusion, the plow of pleasure and emotion that now began to drown Throttle, he sagged back to his recliner and felt his insides clench in understanding, the impending explosion that he was wholly certain would be unlike anything he'd ever experienced before, on his own.
Wren huffed a small chuckle of understanding and beamed a wide, knowing, bashful smile of kindness into Throttle's eyes, as if to express that he was here for Throttle, he was ready to give to him and treat him to an experience he maybe had been wanting all along, and by the way Throttle's beet red cheeks just barely crowned a nervous peek of a smile, Wren sat up a little straighter and allowed his deep, loving voice to softly ease words of encouragement to Throttle as he prepared to finish him off, for good. As Wren's hand quickly grappled and loosened amidst the familiar movement on Throttle's wet distention, Wren's eyes glossed Throttle's messy chest, splayed with wet cake batter and beads of sweat, Wren choked a small chuckle and knew exactly where to aim the conclusion of this wild ride. The second Throttle's legs began to tense in a show of feeling his spine begin to go rigid, Wren raised his eyebrows and quickly carried on, the squeeze of his hand's grip in Throttle's hand never wavered, and in a pop of surprise, Throttle choked a hard groan of urgency as he unloaded his own addition to the mess all over his chest and stomach.
Throttle huffed a hard noise of surprise as Wrens fist tightly hugged the tip, the hot mess that now shot up to Throttle's collar bone and dribbled all over Wren's hand. Throttle huffed a soft, shaky noise of relief as Wren's quick movements eventually sagged to tender rubs and squeezes. The tension finally slowed after a few moments, leaving both boys heavily panting in the calm after the storm. Throttle's chest heavily expanded and caved in rapid succession, the final sag of his body upon sweet release, the gooey mess speckled with Throttle's hot red coding, for a moment, before finally dissipating to normality upon being exposed to outside air. Wren felt as if the room was on fire, the sheer act of this whole ordeal being an entire load more fun and exciting than he ever dreamed, he peered up to Throttle in a sense of renewed feelings, as if to be entirely grateful that his first steps into this branch of adulthood was with someone he could greatly trust, a wonderful person that he could now segue from platonic friendship to romantic partnership with, he lulled his eyes closed and heavily panted through his nose as the feelings hit him head on; he understood that even though Throttle was spent, and the night was growing old, Wren braced himself for Throttle's eventual retaliation.
"I-I can't... F-Feel my feet," Throttle choked with a wheeze of a bashful laugh, and it was here did Wren pop his eyes open in delightful confusion; both boys sweetly laughed with each other, Wren shook his head and cocked an eyebrow.
"You maybe can't feel your feet, but I know, for sure, you felt THAT," Wren grunted with a smile, in which Throttle lulled his eyes closed and sagged back to his recliner in its entirety.
"I'll be feeling it for days to come, I can promise you that," Throttle grumbled as he bashfully swung his arm over his eyes, he heaved a satisfied sigh and allowed an air of gratitude to radiate off of his figure, "Cake or not...Th-that was amazing..."
"You think I did this for free? You owe me cake, good sir," Wren teased, and as both boys choked out raspy laughter, Throttle's warm abode nearly brimmed with an overflow of love, something that was due to spilling over well into the wee hours of the morning's sunrise.
"You can have your cake and eat it too... Just this once," Throttle shakily stated through a satisfied sigh.
