First Time
By: Dana
February 2003
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: TW/MR
Warnings: Soft drug use.
Disclaimer: Do I understand and acknowledge Tom Welling and Michael Rosenbaum aren't doing it in real life? Yes, I do. More's the pity.
Author's Note: This is a bunny that's been gnawing on my leg since the days of TWoP's now defunct Top 10 Thread, when a poster who shall remain nameless painted me a lovely picture. Don't blame me, I'm just shaking it off.
*****
"It's not hard, Tom. Just suck. Lightly at first, so you don't get more than you're ready for."
"Easy for you to say. You do it all the time."
"Relax. There's a first time for everything, right?" Mike pointed out before continuing more seriously, "Look, no one's forcing you…"
Lively blue eyes twinkled as Tom accepted the already half-smoked joint, the pads of their fingertips pressing hard together in the exchange. A light shiver skittered up his spine.
First time for everything.
Mike was watching him intently, the tip of his tongue caught between pearly teeth and lower lip as his face spread in a slow lop-sided grin. Tom put the joint to his lips and pulled in a long, even breath, as he'd seen others do often enough.
A handful of seconds later his burning lungs were expelling the smoke in violent hacking coughs.
"Easy there, man of steel." Mike laughed, sliding across the trailer's narrow couch to rub soothing circles between his shoulder blades as he hung his head between his knees. "You took too big a hit."
Eyes watering, Tom took a gulp from the can of Coke Mike had offered him earlier. Bubbles rose, stinging in his sinuses, and another fit of coughing caused actual tears to trace down his cheeks. He wiped them away and fell back into the corner of the couch, glaring at his still-laughing co-star. "I hate you."
"Uh huh." Mike took another hit on the joint. "So go hang out with Kristin, then."
"There you go," Tom laughed, feeling his limbs weighted with honey coated languor. "Watching General Hospital with Kristin. I'll pass, thanks."
Truthfully, wild horses couldn't drag him away. He'd always wanted to take Mike up on one of these offers, and all his scenes were shot for the day. He watched his friend take another long draw into his lungs, the joint's bright cherry burning down to long, pale fingertips, before it was snubbed out.
Mike has sexy hands.
The thought made him giggle – just a little – and Mike looked over at him with a wicked smile. Suddenly the couch was lurching in a way that suggested Tom might have gotten a pretty good buzz off that one hit, and Mike was on his knees in the cushions, crouched over him. Thick blood thumped through the numbing haze in his head as he watched softly curved lips lower slowly to his own.
Oh, wow. Mike was kissing him.
He opened his mouth slightly at the flick of scalding tongue on his upper lip and a moment later, Mike was breathing softly into his mouth.
Breathing smoke into his mouth.
Not a kiss then, and it wasn't relief he felt. Tom opened his mouth a little wider, careful to keep his tongue in check, and pulled the hit into his lungs. Just because he'd never smoked pot before didn't mean he was completely clueless.
The couch shifted again, and the warm, moist mouth was taken away. Tom kept his eyes closed and held the smoke as long as he could, concentrating on thinking about anything but Michael Rosenbaum's mouth. Except that left plenty of other ground to cover, and he felt himself hardening under the suspect cover of his khaki pants.
Tom released his breath, shifting back a little in an attempt to conceal his burgeoning erection and opened his eyes to Mike's crystal gaze. He had that look on his face. The one that said he got off on shocking people – being more experienced than everyone else in the room.
A pale brow rose in something resembling a dare, but Tom knew was more like a question – what would straight-laced Tom's reaction to 'shot-gunning' be?
"You've tried pretty much everything, haven't you?" Tom asked, grinning at his friend's humble shrug and boastful smile. His entire body was humming like a live wire. "Have you ever gotten blown by a guy?"
And he actually said it with a perfectly straight face.
Marijuana was his friend.
Mike, on the other hand… actually looked pretty together about the whole thing. He must have a friend in marijuana, too, Tom thought, catching a shadowed glimpse of a universal truth in the recesses of his mind, before it scampered away under the intensity of his friend's regard.
"Are you offering?" Mike asked huskily, glazed eyes dropping to Tom's mouth. His lips burned under the hot gaze, and he licked them, moaning softly when Mike's mouth fell slightly open and his head tilted back, exposing a long pale column of really touchable skin.
Lickable skin.
Fucking edible skin, and Tom found his mouth pressed to the bobbing Adam's apple, sucking hard and feeling Mike's groan vibrate on a direct course from his tongue to his cock.
His hands shook at the waist of Mike's jeans, and he pulled back to see what he was doing, to see the fly open, revealing a long, hardened cock. And Christ, it was big.
Sudden panic streaked brightly through the fog filling his head.
What was it about Mike that made him want to do things like this? Smoking pot and sucking cock. Jamie would fucking leave his ass so fast if she found out.
He looked up at Mike, lying breathless and silent under him, excitement and illicit desire tempting on his beautiful face. Just waiting for him to decide.
"I.…" Tom shook his head, uncertain what he had wanted to say, and asked instead, "Can we kiss first, Mike?"
Soft breathy laugh, and Mike's hand was tangled in his hair, pulling him into a wet, open mouthed kiss. Mike's tongue slid against his, claiming his mouth as only another man would do, and Tom rocked his hips experimentally. He groaned at the heady sensation of a rigid cock rubbing along his length, only the thin cotton of his pants and boxers separating them, and ground down into the strong body with more confidence.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
His brain wouldn't shut up, screaming that it was good. Fuck, yes, and now he knew why he'd always wanted this, even if he'd never let himself imagine it.
Mike's free hand slid inside the buttons of his cotton shirt to tease around his navel, dipping into the waist of his pants, and stroking back up along the baby soft trail of hair. He angled his mouth under Tom's, and Tom heard himself whimper around the aggressively thrusting tongue.
Tom's hand closed around the velvety cock, squeezing and stroking when Mike gasped into his mouth. He nipped at Mike's lips, traced the scar's groove with the tip of his tongue before sliding down the slender body.
The sight of Mike's cock sliding through his pumping hand, slicked head pushing forcefully upward with his every downstroke, was mesmerizing. He dipped his head, tongue darting out to sample his best friend's cock.
"Oh, god, Tom… are you sure?" Mike groaned, bucking his hips into Tom's tight fist.
Tom looked up, amazed and a little shocked when he answered, "Yeah, I'm sure. What about you? Do you want me?"
"Shit, yes." He groaned, pale lashed lids dropping closed. "Suck me."
Mike was twisting underneath him like he'd let him do anything, and Tom's hand flew to his own hard cock, squeezing viciously to keep from coming. It was the hottest thing he'd ever seen.
His mouth stretched wide around Mike's cock, all his senses full with rich, bitter taste, musky sex-scent rising from warm curls and the smooth-veined length sliding across his tongue, bumping the back of his throat when Mike's hips thrust sharply.
"Sorry… sorry…." Mike gasped, hands clenching in the cushions near Tom's head.
Tom set a fast rhythm, head bobbing, fucking his mouth on the stiff cock, moaning when Mike took the hint and started fucking him back. Long fingers slid through his hair, resting on the back of his head, as slim hips snapped forward again and again, pushing deep into his throat.
Tom reached down to roll Mike's spit-slicked balls between his fingers and felt hot spurts of come fill the back of his throat. He swallowed around his full mouth, sucking gently until the tremors passed, while he scrabbled at the zipper on his own pants.
Mike lay boneless, panting and covered in a light sweat.
Sex. On. A. Stick.
Tom pushed up Mike's old t-shirt, revealing cut abs that were still heaving as Mike gasped for breath.
"Oh, fuck yes." Mike whispered when Tom leaned over him and started jacking his cock with hard, fast strokes.
Tom looked up into clear eyes, bluer than blue, and came in shuddering spurts on his friend's flat belly. "Mike." he choked out, aware of how very thin the walls of the studio trailers were.
"Oh my god, oh my god..." he moaned, dropping down beside Mike, the two of them pressed tightly together from head to toe on the woefully inadequate couch.
A low, sexy laugh sounded near his ear, sending delicious shivers racing through him. "My sentiments, exactly."
They lay silently for a long while, each lost in thought, each taking the opportunity to pet the other lightly, knowing the contact couldn't be refused. Finally, they disentangled their long legs and sat up, meeting each other's eyes a little bashfully.
Tom zipped up his pants. "So, you do that in here a lot?" he asked, quickly clarifying, "Get high, I mean?"
Mike laughed that laugh again, wiping his stomach dry with the hem of his shirt, and Tom's cock could not be responding to that. Not that soon, anyway.
"Yeah, it helps me relax at the end of the day." And he sounded relaxed.
"Yeah." Tom said, thinking he should get up and go. "Nothing wrong with that."
"You're welcome to join me, you know. Any time."
Tom pulled himself off the couch and crossed to the door, pausing with his hand on the doorknob. This was a really bad idea, but.… "Tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow's good for me."
Tom stepped into the bright sunlight and pulled the door shut behind him, a grin he couldn't suppress plastered on his face.
He slipped his shades on, feeling painfully exposed, and oddly hungry. So maybe marijuana wasn't his friend after all, but first times….
He was definitelyup for more of those.
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