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Infinity Smashed: Prom Night
EDIT: illustration uploaded, finally, Jesus!
Hey guys, in honor of having the last of the illustrations done and being in the final days of editing, here's the final story from Infinity Smashed: Heart Sparks Beat! Hope y'all enjoy!
Prom Night
Series: Infinity Smashed
Word Count: 2800
Summary: While M.D.'s sleeping off the excitement, Thomas and Raige have some fun. NSFW, I guess?
Notes: Supported by the Patreon crew! Takes place immediately after the Prom Story, which you should definitely read first. This story got written because my husband pointed out that the one time I wrote Thomas and Raige attempting anything sexual ended in tears (in Better Than Space) and that this seemed horribly unfair. I agreed.
Raige assumed the conversations with his dad were over, but it turned out he was just going to fetch fresh pillows and sheets for one of the guest rooms. Raige helped him make the bed while Thomas gave M.D. her ride home, and at first, they were quiet. But as he fluffed the pillows, Raige’s dad looked at him and said, “You’re a lot like your mother, you know that?”
Raige froze for a moment, then put the pillows in place. “Yeah.”
“That’s not a bad thing. Not mostly.” Raige’s dad pulled the chair away from the guest desk and sat down. He looked tired, his expression bittersweet. “I know that made it hard for you, when she… when she was gone. And sometimes I made it harder. But I’m glad you’re like her. She was a good person, and so are you.”
Raige wasn’t sure what to say, so he decided to just sit down and listen.
“Your mother, though, she burned like a bonfire,” his father said. “Do you remember how she would get?”
Raige remembered his mother when she was running hot. Her frenzied speech, the chain-smoking, the relentless pacing as she wrote music and practiced. Sometimes she would stay up for days at a time. Sometimes she got a little scary. “Yeah, Dad. She could get pretty intense.”
“Have you ever felt like that?”
Raige shook his head.
“You can tell me.”
“No, Dad. I don’t think I have it in me.” He took a deep breath. “And sometimes I hate that. Because it’s like the fire in her was what made her so good at music, and I don’t think I’ll ever be as good as her.”
But Raige’s dad was staring at him and shaking his head. He reached out and cupped Raige’s face in his hands, and when he spoke his voice was shaking. “No. No, that fire didn’t make her good at music, son. That fire, people think it’s genius, but it burned your mother alive, and I couldn’t bear it if it took you too.” His voice cracked. “I might not have acted like it, but I don’t care if you never become a great musician, a great businessman, a great anything. I just don’t want to lose you to what took your mother.” And then, desperately, “you’re sure you’ve never felt it?”
“No, Dad. Never.”
“Oh, thank God. Thank God…” Raige had never seen his father cry, not even after the funeral. “We should’ve talked about this sooner. I’m sorry…” and then he couldn’t say anything else.
Raige hugged his dad. He started to cry too.
When Thomas came back, he saw Raige’s red eyes and looked concerned.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Everything’s great,” Raige said, and it was.
…
Even though it’d been a long, full day, even though it was late and Raige was tired, he couldn’t stop smiling up at his bedroom ceiling. For the first time in what felt like forever, everything was okay. There was nothing to worry over or be afraid of. School, his dad, his dates, his friends… all fine.
So why couldn’t he sleep?
Finally, we gave up trying and went downstairs for a glass of warm milk, hoping that it’d help wind him down with an old book. Instead, as he headed to the kitchen, he heard a door open behind him—the guestroom.
“Hey,” Thomas said.
“Sorry, did I wake you up?” But though Thomas was dressed for sleeping, he didn’t look sleepy.
“Nah, can’t sleep.”
“Me either. Too much excitement, I guess. I was going to get some milk, you want some?”
But Thomas grinned. “I’ve got a cooler idea.”
In the cooler night air, Thomas’s truck was way more bearable, and way less cramped with only two people in it. As Raige got in, Thomas leaned across his lap to pull the map from the dash. They’d both pulled shoes and shorts on, and Thomas was no longer gussied up in formal wear, but Raige’s skin still tingled where they touched anyway.
Thomas didn’t seem to notice, busy diving into the map. “Okay, so I didn’t get the chance on my road trip, the timing didn’t work out, but y’all in Oasis Valley are right on the edge of the desert, which is supposed to have the coolest night sky views. I’ve got blankets in the back. You in?”
Raige looked at Thomas’s eager face, even though he’d surely seen a million stars from his time in Treehouse, and couldn’t help but grin back. “Sure!”
They drove off.
The cool night air blew through the open windows, and Raige put his hand out, feeling the breeze wind around his fingers like a river of silk. Him and Thomas sat in companionable silence, listening to the wind and the road. Raige had no idea what time it was; if the Steed had ever had a functioning clock, it didn’t glow in the dark, and the inside lights didn’t work at all. Thomas could apparently navigate everything by touch and muscle-memory, and it meant that Raige had nothing much to look at but outside. The headlights kept his night-vision from properly kicking in, but he could still see that it was all sable and navy out, the city retreating behind them. Within fifteen minutes, the streets were mostly deserted desert.
“Wow,” Raige said, looking out the window. Outside was nothing but sky and low mountains.
“I know, right? Here, keep an eye out for a turn-off, somewhere dark so we can see better.”
“There!”
It wasn’t clear what the little road was; it trundled on a ways and then seemed to peter out, possibly turning into someone’s ranch, but there were no streetlights or traffic. Thomas pulled over onto the shoulder, and they got out.
“Wow,” Raige said.
In Oasis Valley—in all of greater Vaygo—there was way too much city to see many stars. Treehouse didn’t have skyscrapers, but it did have forest, not to mention lots of roots and things to trip over.
Here, in the desert, there was nothing but sky. An enormous twinkling bowl of silver and black velvet, with the Milky Way a cosmic dragon stretching all the way across. Surrounded by mountains and sky, without even road noise to break the silence, Raige felt something in him open wide and breathe. He felt tiny, cosmically insignificant, and wonderful.
Eyes on the sky, Thomas used a hand on the side of the Steed to guide himself to the truck bed and open it. “You know, I know the Treehouse sky pretty good. It has to be one of those parallel earths, right, like Bobcat said? But it’s crazy, I don’t recognize a single constellation.” He hopped up into the bed with a couple Indian blankets under one arm, which he tossed out to cushion the hard metal. Raige joined him, and when Thomas lay down on his back, that sounded good too.
Flat on his back, it felt like he was floating in an ocean of stars. Outside the city, the heat was dissipating, almost cool. He turned and looked at Thomas, who was mussed from bed, dressed in baggy shorts and undershirt, no longer spruced up for prom. Raige remembered the last time they’d looked at stars, the last time Raige couldn’t sleep. He remembered Thomas’s smile, his mouth, his hands, his hips.
It’d been a couple years, but Raige still remembered it. Still thought about it, a lot.
“Why couldn’t you sleep?” he asked Thomas.
Thomas pulled his eyes away from the sky to give Raige a rueful smile. “I was horny.”
Raige thought about it, then rolled onto his side, threw a leg over Thomas’s hips, and pulled him in to kiss him.
Thomas didn’t resist—indeed, he melted into it and made a pleased noise. But then he pulled back. “Hey. You sure about this? I mean, no offense, but the last time we tried this, you ended up crying. It’s been a crazy day, you know? You don’t have to feel obligated or anything; I’m like, the three-time state champ of jacking off—”
“A master—” but the pun was so bad, even Raige couldn’t quite bring himself to finish it.
“For real, man. Are you okay?”
Raige thought about it and smiled. “Yeah. Yeah, I really am.”
Thomas smiled back. “Cool. Come here.”
It was weird—since the day Raige had met Thomas and realized the attraction, it’d felt like something in his chest was tied in a knot. Thomas flirting with him hadn’t loosened it; neither had kissing, or trying to have sex. Dating Thomas and M.D. had loosened it some, but not entirely.
Now, though, it felt gone. Like everything was right. And Thomas was gorgeous, the night was perfect, and no way was anyone likely to come driving on whatever this road was at whatever hour this was. And besides, Thomas’s old truck had a pretty deep bed; unless some person climbed up with a flashlight…
Raige grabbed Thomas, got on top of him, and started kissing like his heart depended on it. And god, it felt good, to feel Thomas open up into it, to touch him without being distracted by a million worries and anxieties. To not feel confused or guilty or ashamed. Thomas was his boyfriend, had been his boyfriend for months, everyone knew, and everything was fine.
The blankets under them were soft and warm, and so was Thomas’s undershirt, his skin, his mouth. He still smelled a little of his deodorant, and goosebumps were rising on the skin under Raige’s hands, and oh, this was even better than Raige remembered.
Thomas touched Raige’s shirt. “So, do I get to this time?”
Raige’s face felt hot, but he nodded and sat up, and Thomas’s grin was like the moon as he pulled Raige’s shirt off. Even without streetlights, the moon was mostly full, and between that, the stars, and their night vision, they could still see fine. Raige resisted the urge to cross his arms over his chest and curl in on himself.
But Thomas was looking at him like he was beautiful. “Nice,” he said, trailing his fingers over the freckles on Raige’s arms. “Man, this is what you’ve been hiding? You’re crazy.”
Raige laughed and pulled Thomas’s shirt off, then went for his shorts.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Do I get to…?”
Raige swallowed hard. “If you want.”
They went back to kissing, and Raige could feel Thomas’s hands shaking. It made him feel a little more confident, even though the closest Raige had to ideas about the proceedings came from fanfiction, where everyone was gratuitously endowed. Which had always seemed kind of intimidating, to Raige at least.
Fortunately, under the baggy shorts, Thomas seemed to be built more along the lines of what Raige had seen in school locker rooms. He was lithe and golden and Raige still couldn’t believe this guy wanted to be his boyfriend, was his boyfriend, had put on a tux and brought him roses in front of his dad, danced slow and close with him at prom where anyone could see them. He was fearless and shameless, and…
…And totally failing at getting Raige’s fly open. Apparently his cool didn’t extend to his fine motor control, not when he was turned on anyway. Which was kind of flattering, that Thomas not only wanted this with him, but also wanted it badly enough that he couldn’t undo buttons. How was that anything but the coolest thing ever?
Raige’s hands weren’t shaking. He had drummer hands, pianist hands, and no matter how anxious he got, they never showed it. (And thank god for that; he would’ve been doomed.) He risked a touch, and Thomas gasped into his mouth, pushed into his hand, and flailed at the buttons with no success. Raige hardly noticed the last bit; he was still enchanted by the feel of soft skin over solid core, the warmth, the way Thomas squirmed and breathed and sounded. For a moment, he just drank it all in, mapped him by hand.
Thomas pulled away, panting. “Hey… Raige...”
“This okay?”
Lazy grin. “Oh yeah. Just… I picked up condoms while dropping M.D. off. If you want to do something else, they’re in the glove compartment, but this is fine, like a hundred percent fine, too.”
Raige thought of all the things they could be doing (well, as best he could imagine) and sure, it was exciting, but it was also… much. Raige had read just enough to suspect that it probably wasn’t what doing it was actually like. This, though, this he’d done before, with himself at least. And there were lots of things Raige froze up on, but his hands had never let him down.
“This is fine,” Raige breathed, and started stroking.
Thomas went to pieces. He kissed rough and hungry, murmuring, finally gave up on the buttons and just clung to Raige’s shoulders. The angle was a little difficult and trying to make it better just ended with Thomas in his lap, rubbing all over him and thrusting between their stomachs.
Raige had seen Thomas without the Mr. Cool act before. Seen him tired, or hurt, or sad. But seeing him like this was something else. It was like seeing deep into him, somewhere primal and beautiful. His face was open, his hands still, but his body undulating like he was trying to rub as much of himself against as much of Raige as he could reach—hips and chests and stomachs and thighs, dick slipping through Raige’s fingers to brush against the sensitive skin above his belt line. He was… wetter than Raige was, which was different, and a little messy, but also kind of nice.
Thomas was getting loud now, babbling almost-words despite himself, hips stuttering, clutching at Raige’s shoulders, squeezing him close and tight and god, Raige was aching—
With a cry, Thomas came over his fingers, wet and sticky, and Raige felt a sympathetic throb in the pit of his stomach, but not enough to spill over. God. That’d been even better than he remembered.
Thomas came down slowly, shivering and thrusting shallowly until relaxing completely into Raige’s arms, chuckling.
“You okay, man?” His voice was rough and deep and god, Raige was going to die if Thomas didn’t touch him right now.
“Uh. Yes.” Raige’s voice was more stable that it’d been the last time they’d tried this, but still nowhere as nice-sounding as Thomas’s. Raige couldn’t stop looking from his slick hand to Thomas’s rosy expression. “Can you—I mean—”
Thomas chuckled deep in his throat and this time got Raige’s shorts open on the first try. Raige had about a millisecond to belatedly worry about how he looked before he saw Thomas’s grin.
“Oh hell yeah,” he said. “And you think you’re not hot.”
And then Thomas’s tongue was in his mouth, on his neck and collarbone and chest, and his hand was wrapping around Raige with short, sharp strokes and god, yes, finally, finally. And Thomas was looking at him like he was the hottest thing ever, and Raige was even starting to kind of believe him a little. The closest they’d ever gotten to this before was Thomas groping him once through his jeans, and this was better, so much better—
It was building now, this beautiful aching anticipation, and yes, this was good, this was perfect, something amazing was about to happen, he could feel it coming—
And suddenly it was failing and he was having trouble. He squirmed, sped up, but that only made it worse. He made a sound of frustration.
“Loosen up,” Thomas said, laughter in his voice, and Raige relaxed guiltily. “No hurry.”
They kissed, and there—now—
“Fuck! Yes!”
Raige had had orgasms before, of course. He wasn’t that inexperienced, not since he was fourteen and discovered his favorite fanfic site. But what with all the stress of college admissions and his dad, he hadn’t been in the right frame of mind for a while. But now months of tension rushed out of him.
When he came back to himself, Thomas had pulled the blanket over them and was looking at him nervously. Waiting for him to freak out, or break down in tears, like had happened the last time.
Raige remembered. He remembered how Thomas had comforted him, then played it like no big deal. “Just for fun,” he’d said, but Raige had seen the hurt in his face.
So Raige pushed some of the hair back from Thomas’s face, beamed, and said, “Thank you.”
And the second before Thomas grinned back, Raige saw the wide-eyed vulnerability, the open wonder, before it was covered by joy.
Raige hugged Thomas tight, and they laughed, and fell asleep under the rough blankets.
Hey guys, in honor of having the last of the illustrations done and being in the final days of editing, here's the final story from Infinity Smashed: Heart Sparks Beat! Hope y'all enjoy!
Prom Night
Series: Infinity Smashed
Word Count: 2800
Summary: While M.D.'s sleeping off the excitement, Thomas and Raige have some fun. NSFW, I guess?
Notes: Supported by the Patreon crew! Takes place immediately after the Prom Story, which you should definitely read first. This story got written because my husband pointed out that the one time I wrote Thomas and Raige attempting anything sexual ended in tears (in Better Than Space) and that this seemed horribly unfair. I agreed.
Raige assumed the conversations with his dad were over, but it turned out he was just going to fetch fresh pillows and sheets for one of the guest rooms. Raige helped him make the bed while Thomas gave M.D. her ride home, and at first, they were quiet. But as he fluffed the pillows, Raige’s dad looked at him and said, “You’re a lot like your mother, you know that?”
Raige froze for a moment, then put the pillows in place. “Yeah.”
“That’s not a bad thing. Not mostly.” Raige’s dad pulled the chair away from the guest desk and sat down. He looked tired, his expression bittersweet. “I know that made it hard for you, when she… when she was gone. And sometimes I made it harder. But I’m glad you’re like her. She was a good person, and so are you.”
Raige wasn’t sure what to say, so he decided to just sit down and listen.
“Your mother, though, she burned like a bonfire,” his father said. “Do you remember how she would get?”
Raige remembered his mother when she was running hot. Her frenzied speech, the chain-smoking, the relentless pacing as she wrote music and practiced. Sometimes she would stay up for days at a time. Sometimes she got a little scary. “Yeah, Dad. She could get pretty intense.”
“Have you ever felt like that?”
Raige shook his head.
“You can tell me.”
“No, Dad. I don’t think I have it in me.” He took a deep breath. “And sometimes I hate that. Because it’s like the fire in her was what made her so good at music, and I don’t think I’ll ever be as good as her.”
But Raige’s dad was staring at him and shaking his head. He reached out and cupped Raige’s face in his hands, and when he spoke his voice was shaking. “No. No, that fire didn’t make her good at music, son. That fire, people think it’s genius, but it burned your mother alive, and I couldn’t bear it if it took you too.” His voice cracked. “I might not have acted like it, but I don’t care if you never become a great musician, a great businessman, a great anything. I just don’t want to lose you to what took your mother.” And then, desperately, “you’re sure you’ve never felt it?”
“No, Dad. Never.”
“Oh, thank God. Thank God…” Raige had never seen his father cry, not even after the funeral. “We should’ve talked about this sooner. I’m sorry…” and then he couldn’t say anything else.
Raige hugged his dad. He started to cry too.
When Thomas came back, he saw Raige’s red eyes and looked concerned.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Everything’s great,” Raige said, and it was.
…
Even though it’d been a long, full day, even though it was late and Raige was tired, he couldn’t stop smiling up at his bedroom ceiling. For the first time in what felt like forever, everything was okay. There was nothing to worry over or be afraid of. School, his dad, his dates, his friends… all fine.
So why couldn’t he sleep?
Finally, we gave up trying and went downstairs for a glass of warm milk, hoping that it’d help wind him down with an old book. Instead, as he headed to the kitchen, he heard a door open behind him—the guestroom.
“Hey,” Thomas said.
“Sorry, did I wake you up?” But though Thomas was dressed for sleeping, he didn’t look sleepy.
“Nah, can’t sleep.”
“Me either. Too much excitement, I guess. I was going to get some milk, you want some?”
But Thomas grinned. “I’ve got a cooler idea.”
In the cooler night air, Thomas’s truck was way more bearable, and way less cramped with only two people in it. As Raige got in, Thomas leaned across his lap to pull the map from the dash. They’d both pulled shoes and shorts on, and Thomas was no longer gussied up in formal wear, but Raige’s skin still tingled where they touched anyway.
Thomas didn’t seem to notice, busy diving into the map. “Okay, so I didn’t get the chance on my road trip, the timing didn’t work out, but y’all in Oasis Valley are right on the edge of the desert, which is supposed to have the coolest night sky views. I’ve got blankets in the back. You in?”
Raige looked at Thomas’s eager face, even though he’d surely seen a million stars from his time in Treehouse, and couldn’t help but grin back. “Sure!”
They drove off.
The cool night air blew through the open windows, and Raige put his hand out, feeling the breeze wind around his fingers like a river of silk. Him and Thomas sat in companionable silence, listening to the wind and the road. Raige had no idea what time it was; if the Steed had ever had a functioning clock, it didn’t glow in the dark, and the inside lights didn’t work at all. Thomas could apparently navigate everything by touch and muscle-memory, and it meant that Raige had nothing much to look at but outside. The headlights kept his night-vision from properly kicking in, but he could still see that it was all sable and navy out, the city retreating behind them. Within fifteen minutes, the streets were mostly deserted desert.
“Wow,” Raige said, looking out the window. Outside was nothing but sky and low mountains.
“I know, right? Here, keep an eye out for a turn-off, somewhere dark so we can see better.”
“There!”
It wasn’t clear what the little road was; it trundled on a ways and then seemed to peter out, possibly turning into someone’s ranch, but there were no streetlights or traffic. Thomas pulled over onto the shoulder, and they got out.
“Wow,” Raige said.
In Oasis Valley—in all of greater Vaygo—there was way too much city to see many stars. Treehouse didn’t have skyscrapers, but it did have forest, not to mention lots of roots and things to trip over.
Here, in the desert, there was nothing but sky. An enormous twinkling bowl of silver and black velvet, with the Milky Way a cosmic dragon stretching all the way across. Surrounded by mountains and sky, without even road noise to break the silence, Raige felt something in him open wide and breathe. He felt tiny, cosmically insignificant, and wonderful.
Eyes on the sky, Thomas used a hand on the side of the Steed to guide himself to the truck bed and open it. “You know, I know the Treehouse sky pretty good. It has to be one of those parallel earths, right, like Bobcat said? But it’s crazy, I don’t recognize a single constellation.” He hopped up into the bed with a couple Indian blankets under one arm, which he tossed out to cushion the hard metal. Raige joined him, and when Thomas lay down on his back, that sounded good too.
Flat on his back, it felt like he was floating in an ocean of stars. Outside the city, the heat was dissipating, almost cool. He turned and looked at Thomas, who was mussed from bed, dressed in baggy shorts and undershirt, no longer spruced up for prom. Raige remembered the last time they’d looked at stars, the last time Raige couldn’t sleep. He remembered Thomas’s smile, his mouth, his hands, his hips.
It’d been a couple years, but Raige still remembered it. Still thought about it, a lot.
“Why couldn’t you sleep?” he asked Thomas.
Thomas pulled his eyes away from the sky to give Raige a rueful smile. “I was horny.”
Raige thought about it, then rolled onto his side, threw a leg over Thomas’s hips, and pulled him in to kiss him.
Thomas didn’t resist—indeed, he melted into it and made a pleased noise. But then he pulled back. “Hey. You sure about this? I mean, no offense, but the last time we tried this, you ended up crying. It’s been a crazy day, you know? You don’t have to feel obligated or anything; I’m like, the three-time state champ of jacking off—”
“A master—” but the pun was so bad, even Raige couldn’t quite bring himself to finish it.
“For real, man. Are you okay?”
Raige thought about it and smiled. “Yeah. Yeah, I really am.”
Thomas smiled back. “Cool. Come here.”
It was weird—since the day Raige had met Thomas and realized the attraction, it’d felt like something in his chest was tied in a knot. Thomas flirting with him hadn’t loosened it; neither had kissing, or trying to have sex. Dating Thomas and M.D. had loosened it some, but not entirely.
Now, though, it felt gone. Like everything was right. And Thomas was gorgeous, the night was perfect, and no way was anyone likely to come driving on whatever this road was at whatever hour this was. And besides, Thomas’s old truck had a pretty deep bed; unless some person climbed up with a flashlight…
Raige grabbed Thomas, got on top of him, and started kissing like his heart depended on it. And god, it felt good, to feel Thomas open up into it, to touch him without being distracted by a million worries and anxieties. To not feel confused or guilty or ashamed. Thomas was his boyfriend, had been his boyfriend for months, everyone knew, and everything was fine.
The blankets under them were soft and warm, and so was Thomas’s undershirt, his skin, his mouth. He still smelled a little of his deodorant, and goosebumps were rising on the skin under Raige’s hands, and oh, this was even better than Raige remembered.
Thomas touched Raige’s shirt. “So, do I get to this time?”
Raige’s face felt hot, but he nodded and sat up, and Thomas’s grin was like the moon as he pulled Raige’s shirt off. Even without streetlights, the moon was mostly full, and between that, the stars, and their night vision, they could still see fine. Raige resisted the urge to cross his arms over his chest and curl in on himself.
But Thomas was looking at him like he was beautiful. “Nice,” he said, trailing his fingers over the freckles on Raige’s arms. “Man, this is what you’ve been hiding? You’re crazy.”
Raige laughed and pulled Thomas’s shirt off, then went for his shorts.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Do I get to…?”
Raige swallowed hard. “If you want.”
They went back to kissing, and Raige could feel Thomas’s hands shaking. It made him feel a little more confident, even though the closest Raige had to ideas about the proceedings came from fanfiction, where everyone was gratuitously endowed. Which had always seemed kind of intimidating, to Raige at least.
Fortunately, under the baggy shorts, Thomas seemed to be built more along the lines of what Raige had seen in school locker rooms. He was lithe and golden and Raige still couldn’t believe this guy wanted to be his boyfriend, was his boyfriend, had put on a tux and brought him roses in front of his dad, danced slow and close with him at prom where anyone could see them. He was fearless and shameless, and…
…And totally failing at getting Raige’s fly open. Apparently his cool didn’t extend to his fine motor control, not when he was turned on anyway. Which was kind of flattering, that Thomas not only wanted this with him, but also wanted it badly enough that he couldn’t undo buttons. How was that anything but the coolest thing ever?
Raige’s hands weren’t shaking. He had drummer hands, pianist hands, and no matter how anxious he got, they never showed it. (And thank god for that; he would’ve been doomed.) He risked a touch, and Thomas gasped into his mouth, pushed into his hand, and flailed at the buttons with no success. Raige hardly noticed the last bit; he was still enchanted by the feel of soft skin over solid core, the warmth, the way Thomas squirmed and breathed and sounded. For a moment, he just drank it all in, mapped him by hand.
Thomas pulled away, panting. “Hey… Raige...”
“This okay?”
Lazy grin. “Oh yeah. Just… I picked up condoms while dropping M.D. off. If you want to do something else, they’re in the glove compartment, but this is fine, like a hundred percent fine, too.”
Raige thought of all the things they could be doing (well, as best he could imagine) and sure, it was exciting, but it was also… much. Raige had read just enough to suspect that it probably wasn’t what doing it was actually like. This, though, this he’d done before, with himself at least. And there were lots of things Raige froze up on, but his hands had never let him down.
“This is fine,” Raige breathed, and started stroking.
Thomas went to pieces. He kissed rough and hungry, murmuring, finally gave up on the buttons and just clung to Raige’s shoulders. The angle was a little difficult and trying to make it better just ended with Thomas in his lap, rubbing all over him and thrusting between their stomachs.
Raige had seen Thomas without the Mr. Cool act before. Seen him tired, or hurt, or sad. But seeing him like this was something else. It was like seeing deep into him, somewhere primal and beautiful. His face was open, his hands still, but his body undulating like he was trying to rub as much of himself against as much of Raige as he could reach—hips and chests and stomachs and thighs, dick slipping through Raige’s fingers to brush against the sensitive skin above his belt line. He was… wetter than Raige was, which was different, and a little messy, but also kind of nice.
Thomas was getting loud now, babbling almost-words despite himself, hips stuttering, clutching at Raige’s shoulders, squeezing him close and tight and god, Raige was aching—
With a cry, Thomas came over his fingers, wet and sticky, and Raige felt a sympathetic throb in the pit of his stomach, but not enough to spill over. God. That’d been even better than he remembered.
Thomas came down slowly, shivering and thrusting shallowly until relaxing completely into Raige’s arms, chuckling.
“You okay, man?” His voice was rough and deep and god, Raige was going to die if Thomas didn’t touch him right now.
“Uh. Yes.” Raige’s voice was more stable that it’d been the last time they’d tried this, but still nowhere as nice-sounding as Thomas’s. Raige couldn’t stop looking from his slick hand to Thomas’s rosy expression. “Can you—I mean—”
Thomas chuckled deep in his throat and this time got Raige’s shorts open on the first try. Raige had about a millisecond to belatedly worry about how he looked before he saw Thomas’s grin.
“Oh hell yeah,” he said. “And you think you’re not hot.”
And then Thomas’s tongue was in his mouth, on his neck and collarbone and chest, and his hand was wrapping around Raige with short, sharp strokes and god, yes, finally, finally. And Thomas was looking at him like he was the hottest thing ever, and Raige was even starting to kind of believe him a little. The closest they’d ever gotten to this before was Thomas groping him once through his jeans, and this was better, so much better—
It was building now, this beautiful aching anticipation, and yes, this was good, this was perfect, something amazing was about to happen, he could feel it coming—
And suddenly it was failing and he was having trouble. He squirmed, sped up, but that only made it worse. He made a sound of frustration.
“Loosen up,” Thomas said, laughter in his voice, and Raige relaxed guiltily. “No hurry.”
They kissed, and there—now—
“Fuck! Yes!”
Raige had had orgasms before, of course. He wasn’t that inexperienced, not since he was fourteen and discovered his favorite fanfic site. But what with all the stress of college admissions and his dad, he hadn’t been in the right frame of mind for a while. But now months of tension rushed out of him.
When he came back to himself, Thomas had pulled the blanket over them and was looking at him nervously. Waiting for him to freak out, or break down in tears, like had happened the last time.
Raige remembered. He remembered how Thomas had comforted him, then played it like no big deal. “Just for fun,” he’d said, but Raige had seen the hurt in his face.
So Raige pushed some of the hair back from Thomas’s face, beamed, and said, “Thank you.”
And the second before Thomas grinned back, Raige saw the wide-eyed vulnerability, the open wonder, before it was covered by joy.
Raige hugged Thomas tight, and they laughed, and fell asleep under the rough blankets.
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Also: Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhh I finally get to use my awesome Harry Potter icon. *gestures up* XD
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