Work Text:
Trent skidded into his bedroom, his sock-clad feet slipping and sliding on the worn tile floor in his haste to get everything ready before his boyfriend returned. At the moment, Blaine was outside. They had just finished playing some basketball when his dad had stopped to chat with them before going to his night job at one of the local plants across the river. It wasn’t long before the three of them were talking about the new job his dad would soon be starting at the NASCAR racetrack that was being built outside of town. The conversation had gone on longer than expected, and Trent was now scrambling to set the scene for his and Blaine's first night alone.
Their first night going all the way.
"And I mean all the way. None of this stalling at third base anymore. I'm charging for home plate tonight, Budman," he vowed adamantly, his hand slightly trembling as he placed a bottle of Astroglide and several condoms on the nightstand.
His cheeks reddened with embarrassment as he fingered each shiny foil packet. He recalled his total confusion the day he was in Wal-Mart trying to look cool while deciding which brand of condoms to buy. He wanted his first time with Blaine to be perfect, and finally in utter desperation, had grabbed several different types of condoms, blowing his entire week's allowance on the supplies he had to have for this special night.
Absently patting the small pile and wondering if he had put out enough, he turned his attention to the aromatherapy candle he’d also purchased. The advertisement for the candle declared the scent would evoke feelings of passion, and he figured he needed as much help as he could get.
Tearing off the plastic wrap, Trent wrinkled his nose at the odor that floated up from the candle. "How in the hell does that smell make you horny?" He took another whiff and immediately wished he hadn't. "Orange patchouli," he read aloud the name on the label. "More like orange poop." Shrugging his shoulders, he lit the candle and placed it as far away from the bed as possible just in case it really did turn out to be a stinky mistake.
Once finished with that particular task, he surveyed the room. "Candle lit, supplies within reach." He tugged on the waistband of his shorts. "New underwear on."
Another blush stole across his cheeks at the sight of the purple-colored briefs he was wearing. Never in his life had he worn something so damn tight and so incredibly skimpy. Shit, his eyeballs had nearly popped out of his head when he saw their price tag. No way in hell was there fifteen dollars worth of material in what was now hugging his ass, but the salesman had insisted these were the hottest fashion and their best seller. Trent had heeded his advice, buying not one but two pair of the briefs--again just in case--just in case Blaine went Tarzan on him and ripped the first pair to pieces.
He found himself stroking his dick thinking about Blaine tackling him to the bed and tearing his clothes off. Good thing he was wearing an old pair of shorts and t-shirt; he could afford to lose these clothes if Blaine got wild on him.
"What if I get wild on Blaine?" With a wicked grin on his face, he looked at himself in the mirror, nodding his head in approval at the way the muscles in his arms and chest were taking shape. All those long hours working out with his dad's weights were paying off he decided as he pulled off his shirt and checked out his abs. "Pretty soon I'll have a six-pack just like Blaine, and he'll be able to bounce a quarter off 'em, they'll be so hard. Speaking of hard . . . ."
Glancing out the door and down the hallway, Trent searched for his boyfriend, taking a brief second to adjust his horny dick into a more comfortable position. Through the open windows of his room he could hear that Blaine was still talking to his dad. He danced in and out of the doorway trying to decide if he should wait patiently for his boyfriend to finish his conversation or should he just go interrupt the two and haul Blaine to bed so they could fuck each other's brains out.
The ringing of Blaine's cellphone put his thoughts on hold, and he dug through the older boy's backpack in search of the annoying device. Checking the caller ID, Trent saw that it was Blaine's youngest sister, Suzanne.
"No way, squirt! This is my night with Blaine. Mine, ya hear? Go bother somebody else with your yick-yacking." He clicked off the ringer and tossed the cellphone back in Blaine's sack. "In fact . . . ." He crawled across the bed and unplugged the phone that sat on his dresser, making doubly sure that no one interrupted the night's festivities.
"Now that's a sight I've been waiting years to see."
Trent glanced over his shoulder. "Huh?"
"You, on your hands and knees, with that damn fine ass of yours pointed straight at me." Dressed in an old football jersey and a pair of skintight jeans, Blaine leaned against the doorframe, and Trent swore he could feel the heat of that gaze as it examined every inch of his own physique.
"Are you ogling my ass, Matthews?" Trent couldn’t help but grin while wiggling his butt at his boyfriend.
"Damn straight, I'm ogling. That ass belongs to me, and I can ogle it all I want." Blaine reached up and pulled free the tie restraining his shoulder length hair. Stuffing the simple leather band in the front pocket of his jeans he then looked up and laughed.
Trent blushed once he realized he’d been caught following the movement of Blaine’s hand and was now blatantly staring at his boyfriend’s crotch.
“Seems like I'm not the only one ogling the merchandise," Blaine commented.
Stripping off his t-shirt and plopping down on the bed, Trent rolled onto his back and boldly stroked his dick through his shorts. "Damn, Blaine. You look so fucking hot. Why in the hell are you wasting your time with a schmuck like me?"
Blaine mimicked his actions and pulled off his jersey. Dropping it on the floor, he then kicked off his shoes and socks and padded barefoot across the floor. With a tender smile on his face, he crawled on the bed. Trent couldn’t help but hiss with pleasure when Blaine lowered his body down and their groins came in contact with each other. Staring deeply into his eyes, Blaine captured his mouth and kissed him thoroughly. "You're no schmuck," he whispered breathlessly. "You're my best bud."
Trent groaned and angled his head back when Blaine's mouth traveled down his neck, licking and biting. "Instead of . . . ." The wet heat of kisses halted at his Adam's apple and when the kisses turned to sucking, Trent, in response, clutched Blaine's shoulders and began to thrust his groin against that of his boyfriend's. "Instead of . . . shit, Blaine! You're killing me."
Blaine gave a final lick before lifting his head. "Instead of what?" he asked.
"Huh?" Trent saw that Blaine’s gaze was focused on his pierced nipples, and he groaned when they shamelessly tightened into hard nubs that begged to be sucked.
"You started to say something but stopped. Instead of what, Trent?"
Trent saw the way Blaine was eyeing his tits, and he quickly shifted his hands and tangled them in the teen's long hair, pulling him back for another hard kiss. Separating slightly, he gasped his answer into Blaine's open mouth. "Instead of me being your best . . . . Fuck! Is that your dick?"
Tilting his head down, Trent discovered Blaine had somehow shimmied out of his jeans just enough to free his erection. Staring in awe at the rod that would soon be plowing his ass, he shyly wrapped his hand around the column of hard flesh. "Instead of me being your best bud . . . " He looked back up at Blaine and offered him a smile that hopefully reflected all the love he felt for him. “ . . . how 'bout you let me be your lover, instead?"
He reached to his left and grabbed the supplies he had placed on the nightstand earlier. Loving the stupefied look on Blaine's face, he pressed the bottle of lube and condom wrappers into his soon-to-be lover's hand. "Fuck me, Blaine," he fiercely demanded. "Nail me to this bed and make me yours in the one way that truly counts."
Blaine sat up abruptly and, in confusion, looked down at the items he held in his hand. "I thought we were gonna wait 'til the night of my graduation? I mean, we haven't had that talk with my dad yet, and I thought you wanted . . . ."
Trent reached up and covered Blaine's mouth with his fingers. "What I want is you. Now."
Assured his boyfriend would remain quiet, he removed his fingers and playfully tugged on the gold hoop that pierced Blaine's right nipple. "We'll talk to your dad later, okay? It's not like he's gonna tell us something we don't know." He again took hold of Blaine's dick and coaxed it back to its former state of hardness. "I've done my homework, Budman. I've been surfing the net, visiting some chat rooms. I know what goes where and what you have to do to get it there."
Blaine leaned back on the bed and balanced the weight of his upper torso on his hands. "Tell me . . . tell me what you've learned," he hoarsely instructed.
Trent released his hold and pushed himself up so that he sat facing his boyfriend. He quickly resumed his exploration of Blaine's dick with one hand while using the other to pinch and pull on the older teen's nipples. "You're gonna lube up those talented fingers of yours and stick 'em in my ass one at a time."
Moaning softly, Blaine closed his eyes and gnawed on his bottom lip as his hips jerked helplessly upward.
Trent grinned at the sight of his normally stoic friend slowly losing control. "You're gonna keep playing with my virgin hole until it's nice and loose and ready to accept that monster dick of yours."
"Oh god, Trent! YES!" Trent grinned when Blaine shouted out the last word. Nothing liking squeezing a man’s balls to get his attention. He repeated the gentle action. "Wanna hear more?" he asked.
Reaching his hand further inside Blaine's jeans, he rubbed the tip of one finger over the boy's pucker. "The second my ass can handle riding three of your fingers, you're gonna shove a pillow under my butt, sling my legs over your shoulders and ram that dick of yours so goddamn deep inside of me, I'm gonna feel it fucking the back of my throat."
Trent shuddered and fell back on the bed when he saw Blaine's eyes snap open suddenly, their blue depths glittering dangerously. "Fuck me, Budman. Fuck me now."
Blaine rolled off the bed and stripped off his jeans. Before the item of clothing had even hit the floor Trent was kneeling before him and with unsteady hands, rolled a condom over his erection. Grabbing blindly for the bottle of lube, he handed it over. “Ready?”
Instead of answering, Blaine growled his own question, "Where's the damn pillow?"
Laughing with unadulterated happiness, Trent threw himself back on the bed, wiggled out of his shorts, regretting briefly that his new briefs weren’t receiving their moment in the spotlight. He looked damn good in them and really wanted Blaine to see him in them but . . .
“Off, Trent, take your fucking underwear OFF.”
“You got it! Briefs off! Pillow at hand! Hot, horny boyfriend ready to receive!”
Trent grabbed the nearest pillow, stuffing it hurriedly under his butt. "Come and get it, Cowboy. Ride me hard and put me up wet."
Making sure he was watching his every move, Blaine slowly dribbled lube all over his fingers. "I'm gonna love you so good, Trent Anderson. Gonna make you howl at the moon."
"Bring it on, Budman." Trent caught his legs behind the knees and pulled them toward his chest, exposing himself completely. Growing serious, he looked his boyfriend straight in the face. "Do it, Blaine. Make me yours."
Blaine climbed back on the bed and knelt in front of him, his gaze zeroed in on him as he slowly and gently eased one finger inside his virgin ass. This was it, the moment he had been dreaming of for the last several months, the moment he and Blaine would become one.
Inserting another finger, Blaine leaned forward and cupped the side of his face. "I love you, Trent. Have loved you since you were eleven." Trent levitated off the bed when Blaine obviously found what the gay sex manuals called the prostate and rubbed it repeatedly.
"FUCK! HOLY CHRIST! FUCK!"
Trent could only stare blindly at Blaine as he pulled his fingers free and began quickly lubing his cock. A second later his trembling legs were being lifted and hooked over Blaine’s shoulders. The moment was here. The moment he would lose his . . . .
Someone outside the house began screaming at the top of their lungs and banging on the window next to the bed.
"Shit!"
"What the . . . ?" Startled, Trent nearly fell off the bed. "Who the fuck is that?"
"How the hell should I know?" Sliding off the mattress, Blaine wrapped the edge of the sheet around his waist and pulled open the curtains. "Holy Mother Mary! It's Angel." Jerking the window up, he grumbled angrily at his younger sister, "Jesus Christ, Angel. What the fuck are you doing here?"
Angel stood outside the window, dressed in her pajamas. "You stupid shithead! Why didn't you answer your cell? Suzanne's been trying to call you for the past half hour while I've been trying to reach Dad at his hotel."
"And just why are you calling me? Mom knows I'm spending the night with Trent."
Trent followed his boyfriend to the window and snuggled up close to him, wrapping an arm around his chest. A quick kiss to his cheek welcomed his actions. Hiding his face in Blaine’s hair, he grinned at the way the two siblings were going after each one.
"I'm gonna kick your ass,” Blaine threatened, “if this is one of your stupid pranks."
"Would you shut up, you idiot dickwad!" Angel stepped closer and clung to the window's brick ledge. "The paramedics just took Mom to the hospital." She broke down and started crying. "There was all this blood, Blaine. Blood everywhere." With tears pouring down her face, she released the ledge and covered her face with her hands. "They said . . . ."
"Said what?"
Trent tightened his hold on Blaine, suddenly scared beyond measure for what his boyfriend was about to hear.
"They said Mom might be losing the twins."
To be continued . . . .