All the Way



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 with Trent's father. Devin was about to leave for work but had stopped to talk to the two boys about the new job he would soon be starting at the NASCAR racetrack that was being built outside of town. The conversation had gone on longer than Trent expected and he 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," Trent vowed adamantly, his hand slightly trembling as he placed a bottle of Astroglide and several condoms on the bedside table.

His cheeks reddened with embarrassment as he fingered each shiny foil packet, recalling 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 of condoms and wondering if he had put out enough, Trent turned his attention to the aromatherapy candle he also had purchased. The advertisement for the candle declared the scent would evoke feelings of passion and Trent figured he needed as much help as he could get.

Tearing off the plastic wrap, the 16 year old wrinkled his nose at the odor that floated up from the candle. "How in the hell does that smell make you horny?" Trent 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, Trent 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.

The teenager, once finished with that particular task, surveyed the room. "Candle lit, supplies within reach." Trent 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 the price tag for the underwear. 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.

Trent 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, Trent 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 and Trent 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 Trent dug through the older boy's backpack in search of the annoying device. Checking the caller ID, Trent saw that the caller 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." Trent 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, his hot gaze examining every inch of his boyfriend's physique.

"Are you ogling my ass, Matthews?" A smile of pure devilment took shape on Trent's face as he wiggled his butt at the older teen.

"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 grinned when he noticed that Trent's gaze, which had been following the movement of his hand, was now fixated on Blaine's crotch. "Seems like I'm not the only one ogling the merchandise."

Stripping off his t-shirt, Trent plopped down on the bed, rolling onto his back and boldly stroking 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 boyfriend's actions and pulled his jersey off. Dropping it on the floor, he kicked off his shoes and socks and padded barefoot across the floor. With a tender smile on his face, he crawled on the bed and carefully lowered himself down on top of Trent, hissing when their groins came in contact with each other. Staring deeply into his boyfriend's emerald eyes, Blaine captured Trent's mouth and kissed him thoroughly. "You're no schmuck," he whispered breathlessly in the younger teen's ear. "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 Blaine's kisses halted at Trent's Adam's apple and when the older teen began to suck on the small protrusion, 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 to Trent's throat before lifting his head. "Instead of what?" he asked.


Blaine focused his gaze on Trent's pierced nipples and whistled appreciatively when they tightened into hard nubs that just 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 . . . . 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 shaft that would soon be plowing his ass, Trent 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 reflected all the love he felt for his boyfriend. "How 'bout you let me be your lover, instead?"

Trent reached his hand to the left and grabbed the supplies he had placed on the bedside table 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 hoarsely 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 back and forth between Trent's expectant grin and the items he now 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, Trent 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." Trent 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."

Placing his arms behind him and balancing his weight on his hands, Blaine closed his eyes and surrendered to the gentle fingers dancing up and down his erection. "Tell me . . . tell me what you've learned," he gasped.

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 back and forth.

Trent grinned at the sight of his normally stoic friend 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!" Blaine shouted the last word, his body shaking uncontrollably when his balls were gathered in a gentle grip and squeezed.

"Wanna hear more?" Trent reached his hand further inside Blaine's jeans and 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 he could even blink, Trent was kneeling on the mattress before him and with unsteady hands, rolled a condom over his erection. Taking the bottle of lube handed to him, Blaine growled, "Where's the damn pillow?"

Laughing with unadulterated happiness, Trent threw himself back on the bed, wiggled out of his shorts and 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 Trent 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, babe."

"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 Trent, his gaze never leaving his friend's face as he slowly and gently eased one finger inside Trent's virgin ass. This was it, the moment he had been dreaming of for so many years, the moment he and Trent would become one.

Inserting another finger, Blaine leaned forward and cupped the side of Trent's face. "I love you, Trent. Have loved you since you were eleven." Blaine searched for what the gay sex manuals called the prostate, and when his middle finger encountered a spongy bump, he rubbed it repeatedly and nearly had his fingers broken off when Trent levitated off the bed.


Pulling his fingers free, Blaine quickly lubed his cock and was hooking Trent's trembling legs over his shoulders when 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. It's nearly midnight. 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 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." Blaine pressed a kiss to the arm that crept around his chest and hugged it tight. "I'm gonna kick your ass if this is one of your stupid pranks."

"Would you shut up, you stupid dickwad!" Angel stepped closer and clung to the window's brick ledge. "The paramedics just took Mom to the hospital." The young girl broke down and started crying. "There was all this blood, Blaine. Blood everywhere." With tears pouring down her face, Angel released the ledge and covered her face with her hands. "They said . . . ."

"Said what?" Blaine felt his heart seize up with fear.

"They said Mom might be losing the twins."

End of chapter 9