Tangled Up, Pt. 2
Tangled Up- Part Two
He was pretty sure that he was going to have his big gay freak out after that, but he didn’t. Even though he and Eric knew that now that they’d jumped that hurdle, they were going to have actual sex at some point. Like, no clothes and penises in weird places kind of sex. Tristan was kind of vaguely terrified of that, but not like he thought he should be. As a mostly straight male. Who hadn’t really thought of a girl sexually in a really long time. Fucking Eric Amparo.
So actual full on sex was somewhere on the horizon, but there wasn’t any real pressure because he and Eric were both kind of really enjoying the world of dry humping and fondling each other over their clothes and it seemed that as long as Tristan offered Eric his neck to do whatever the hell he wanted to with, Eric was a pretty happy camper. In his pants.
It was another one of those little changes, but they were still Eric and Tristan. Tristan kind of knew Eric wasn’t really his bro anymore, but it wasn’t like they were dating or anything, so he just kept calling him a bro because it was easy. Even if it was weird to think “I am going to go grind against my bro” or “my bro gave me a massive hickey and I am going to kill him because I can’t cover this shit up” or “I really like the way my bro says my name when he comes”.
But Tristan had made a big decision not to think about any of that. And when he started to he liked to push Eric down on whatever the nearest available surface was and make damn sure they both weren’t thinking for very much longer.
He was kind of doing just that when that stupid douche bag that was his platonic soul mate decided to show up unannounced.
It was early on Saturday morning and Tristan was kind of really loving this particular Saturday morning because after having some really awesome orgasms, he had fallen asleep kind of on top of Eric and had kind of woken up kind of tangled up in him. They hardly ever did that, because that was one of those things that was kind of way too intimate. But Saturday’s were kind of special so Tristan was able to let it slide. Because that meant he could wake Eric up by wrapping a leg over his hip and sucking on his earlobe (which Tristan had recently realized he really, really liked doing).
“You are such a tease,” Eric sighed sleepily when the way Tristan was softly rolling his hips into him and tugging on his ear with his teeth got him to open his eyes.
“Yep. It’s my Saturday morning duty. Even if it’s not really morning so much anymore.” Eric pulled one of his ‘Tristan you are an idiot’ faces and slid his hands over Tristan’s back and seated their hips more firmly together. Tristan made a happy kind of sound and licked the curve of Eric’s ear. Which just made Eric laugh- that throaty turned on kind of laugh that Tristan was a fan of.
“Slobbering on people isn’t polite, Tristan. It’s gross.”
Tristan rolled his eyes. “Next your going to say you won’t kiss me because you’re scared of morning breath. Pussy.” This kind of playful, kind of sexy banter was new too, but Tristan was really kind of fond of it. Eric laughed again and rose to the challenge, cupping Tristan’s face and kissing him sweetly. Or at least it started that way, but then their cocks dragged together just so and then Eric had to suck Tristan’s tongue into his mouth.
“Holy fuck, I am so sorry!”
That god damn voice. It was really squeaky and a lot higher than usual, but Tristan knew Blaine Anderson when he heard him. So did Eric apparently, because Eric was throwing him off and running off to his side of the dorm room. Great. So Eric was going to deal with this by pouting in his brooding corner and Tristan was going to have to look at Blaine Fucking Anderson and try to explain why he was having good morning gropings with Eric.
Blaine was standing just inside the door with one hand tangled up in his hair and the other slapped over his eyes, and a really intense blush on his cheeks. It was so odd to see Blaine out of uniform, still. He looked really young in his jeans and converses and stripped tee-shirt. And he looked positively mortified.
Someone was going to have to say something. And it definitely wasn’t going to be Eric who was glaring at the top of his desk like he could burn it with his eyes. Blaine still had a hand clapped over his eyes, so he probably wasn’t going to say anything either. Well, fuck. “Hi Blaine. Good to see you.” Not really. Not right now. Tristan was a little overcome, because seeing Blaine usually made him run up and sweep him into really glorious bro hugs, but he knew very well that he was still having excitement issues and Blaine would really not appreciate that. So he curled up a little awkwardly in Blaine’s old bed and covered his lap as best he could.
“Um yeah. Yeah. That,” Blaine said, daring to peek out from behind his hand. When he saw that everyone was clothed, he dropped it completely. That was an improvement, Tristan guessed, but then there was just a lot of awkward staring. So maybe not. God, Tristan hated that his…Eric was letting him handle this. Ass. Fucking douche. “You should really lock the door if you’re going to do that,” Blaine said in a rush, his eyes so wide he kind of looked like an anime character. Blaine cut his eyes over to Eric suddenly. “And you should know better. Since you were always yelling at me about it. Asshole.”
Eric made a very unsexy groaning sound and gave up and slammed his face into the desk. And just stayed there. Tristan was never going to let Eric touch his neck again. Ever.
“Oh God,” Blaine said, tiny and a little scandalized. That was when Tristan realized he’d said that last bit out loud. Which had brought Blaine’s attention to his neck, which was, of course, looking kind of mauled at the moment. Tristan was pretty sure he was blushing all the way down to his toes. From the corner of intense brooding, Eric made another sad kind of squawk.
“So. Um. Blaine,” Tristan tried. Then stopped, because what the hell was he supposed to say?
Blaine looked just as hopeless. “Tristan. Hi.” Blaine stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his feet. “So. Are you two, like, dating now?”
“No!” Tristan cried, and was really happy that from his corner Eric was doing the same thing. Thank God they were still on the same page.
Blaine didn’t look convinced. “So you’re just…what…fuck buddies?” Blaine’s mouth twisted a little around those words and Tristan just knew he was picturing it and was thinking it was really, really weird. And it was. Oh God it was.
“No?” Tristan said again, not as sure. From his corner, Eric did nothing, except look like he wanted to disappear deeper into the desk. Eric was the worst fucking boyfriend ever. “Oh for fucks sake,” Tristan muttered to himself, because his brain was stupid. God damn it. Fuck. That wasn’t…they didn’t do that. Not ever. Because that was kind of girly and full of feelings that Tristan was pretty sure he didn’t have.
“That’s um…cool if you don’t need to define anything,” Blaine said helpfully, finally looking like he was pulling himself together. Which was nice, because if Blaine was a mess, there was absolutely no hope for one Tristan Ross.
“Awesome,” Tristan said a little desperately. Blaine was amazing. God, he loved Blaine. And now that his little excitement problem was taken care of, Tristan was bounding across the room and sweeping Blaine into a crushing hug. “Thank you. I love you. Even if I really hate you right now,” Tristan said.
Blaine laughed a little and pat Tristan’s head. “I will say I am never dropping by unannounced ever again, though. There is only so much my heart can take.”
“Announcing things is good. I approve. I always approve,” Tristan babbled, unable to extract himself from Blaine.
“You could have said something,” Blaine said after a moment and he sounded a little sad. And yeah, Tristan should have probably trusted him with all of this, because it was Blaine and if anyone was going to accept it all it was Blaine.
Tristan gave Blaine an apologetic look. “I wasn’t sure how to. I don’t even know how to right now.”
Blaine smirked. “Clearly.” He rolled his eyes and kissed Tristan’s cheek before sauntering over to Eric who was still cowering at his desk. “Amparo,” he said when he got there, leaning against the desk and kicking at Eric’s legs until Eric looked up at him. And then they just looked at each other for a really long time. It was clear something was going on there, some kind of epic battle of wills, but it all kind of went over Tristan’s head. When it was over, Blaine kind of smiled and nodded and Eric just looked exhausted and dropped his head back to the desk.
Then they just waited for a long time. Until Blaine’s phone rang, which made all of them jump. “Kurt! Hey….sorry about that. There is lots of…stuff…um…Can I explain it later? It’s kind of awkward right now…yeah….yeah….Kurt…come on…Kurt…babe…yeah…I know….We’ll be right down, okay? I love you.”
Blaine hung up and gave Tristan and Eric a nice big grin. “So. Wanna go get lunch?”
The correct answer to that had been no. Emphatically no. But Tristan hadn’t known that until they were sitting at Westerville’s classiest burger joint. Hindsight was kind of stupid and not very helpful. And it didn’t stop this from happening. He was sitting next to a very stiff and uncomfortable Eric who was glaring out at the world like it had done him some great disservice (which was such a lie, because Tristan had totally given him a really awesome orgasm last night when he did that thing) . Kurt was sitting directly across from Eric, which was an awful seating arrangement, thanks hindsight, and had his perfected ‘bitch please’ look on his face and was poking at his salad like he was trying to make it more dead. Blaine was directly across from him and smiling that crazy ‘everything is awesome, come on guys, life is great’ smile. Tristan grinned hopefully across the table at him.
“So,” Blaine said.
“Yep.” Tristan said.
Kurt didn’t say anything.
Eric didn’t say anything.
And the cycle continued. As it had since they sat down approximately thirty minutes ago. And it seemed like it was going to continue. Until Blaine let out an hysterical kind of laugh and said, “I’m sorry, but I can’t get over the fact that you two are having sex.” Tristan blanched and looked frantically about the room, hoping no one else heard that. Kurt’s eyebrow lifted a little higher in amusement and he shared some unreadable look with Blaine.
Tristan didn’t really want to correct him, because even though they weren’t having actual sex, they were doing some stuff and that was definitely in the cards. “I think your leaving damaged my sanity,” Tristan said mournfully. Beside him Eric stiffened a little more and his glower deepened. God, he didn’t mean it that way. Eric was such a drama queen, honestly. Tristan wanted to say that, but he didn’t really know how to be around Eric in front of other people anymore. So he did one of those other things that they didn’t actually do and slid his hand across the seat of the booth until it found Eric’s and covered it. Something in Eric’s jaw twitched and he twisted his hand so his palm could rest against Tristan’s. And that was all kinds of awesome, because then Tristan could thread their fingers together. Hand holding. Sweet.
“So who’s on top?” Kurt said suddenly, sipping at his iced tea and looking prim and proper and completely evil. Blaine snorted and looked like he was doing something obscene under the table because his hand had to be on Kurt’s thigh. Really high up.
Eric made an undignified sound and squeezed Tristan’s hand really tightly. Tristan could feel his ears burning. Fucking Kurt Hummel. He looked so sweet and kind and underneath it all he was this evil, catty bitch. Who had totally stolen Blaine away from him. But whatever. He was having sexy times with Eric and that was kind of awesome, and it was kind of Kurt’s fault since Blaine would never have left without Kurt. So… No, Tristan still kind of hated him. Bitch.
“That is…none of your business,” Tristan said carefully, trying to hide the fact that he was really seriously considering it now. Across the table, Kurt just shrugged and smiled that sweet, evil little smile. Fucking Kurt. Blaine shot him an apologetic look, but he was too amused to look really contrite. Fucking Blaine. And Eric was clinging to Tristan’s hand and not saying anything. Fucking Eric. “Look,” Tristan said suddenly, feeling an angry rant coming on. He tried to push it down, but he couldn’t. It was that Ross blood. “I have no idea what this is. I don’t have words to define it and I have feelings that I can’t really put into words, because words suck and never say what you want them to. I don’t know where this is going, but I like it and I’m happy. I just like him. So stop asking me questions and laughing at me because this is important to me even if I don’t have any stupid words for it. Okay?” Blaine looked a little taken aback and just nodded. Kurt’s raised his stupid eyebrow appraisingly. Tristan finally dared to look at Eric who was kind of wide eyed, even if he still looked like he wanted to stab himself with a fork. “I like you, you idiot. And I put up with a whole lot of asshole brooding shit from you. And I still like you. So stop looking like I’m torturing you by making you come here.” Tristan closed his mouth with a snap. Eric looked startled for a second, but then he gave Tristan that little smile and Tristan beamed back.
And then their food came and everyone ate in this really awkward silence. But Eric didn’t let go of his hand. And Blaine was kind of looking at them like some kind of fond father, which was weird but kind of nice. Kurt looked like he wanted to roll his eyes out of his head and kept trying to distract Blaine with his wiles. But that always happened, so it wasn’t exactly new.
After the most painful meal ever, Blaine started babbling about going to the zoo because monkeys were like, his reason for living or something. Kurt looked like he was about to do something drastic and shave off of Blaine’s eyebrows for even suggesting to continue this awkward awful pseudo double date. Tristan was about to say something awesome and polite to get him and Eric out of this, but then Eric did something unexpected. And spoke.
“Blaine. Fuck off,” Eric said. In that authoritative, dominating way of his. Blaine narrowed his eyes like he was going to start something, but Kurt looked somewhat happy for the first time the entire afternoon and dragged Blaine off before he had enough time to react. Tristan gave Eric a wide-eyed look of confusion. And Eric smirked back at him. The bastard smirk. Not the evil one, but the one that made Tristan’s stomach do funny things. “We need to go. Now.”
“Why exactly?” Tristan tried, trying to get his brain to catch up with what was going on around him.
Eric leaned in close so his lips were brushing against Tristan’s ear, which was really unfair because they were still in public, and said, “Because I really, really need to suck your dick right now.”
And really, who the fuck would argue with that?
Blow jobs, Tristan discovered, were really fucking awesome. Well, he knew that before. He’d gotten one or two from previous girlfriends and it was always kind of really nice even if the girls kind of looked like they were doing it because they thought they should.
It was an entirely different ball game with Eric. Because as soon as they got back to the dorm room (with Tristan practically vibrating with nerves) Eric practically threw Tristan against the door as he locked it and kissed him like Tristan had some kind of magical life giving properties. A muffled kind of moan came out of Tristan’s throat and died on Eric’s lips. Kissing Eric was always awesome, but Tristan couldn’t really focus on that because Eric’s hands were on the waistband of his jeans, tracing the circumference, index fingers slipping under the fabric and dragging across his skin.
And that was new and kind of scary. They didn’t do skin.. They kind of groped each other all over, but there were always clothes and that made it safer. Skin was scary. Skin was absence of clothes and then there was nothing to hide, and Tristan wasn’t really ready to be exposed. Because he was telling the truth earlier when he didn’t know what this was, but he had an idea what Eric probably wanted it to be and that was terrifying. Tristan kind of wanted to buckle under the pressure.
But God, it was hard to think because Eric was unbuttoning his fucking pants and dragging a hand across his stomach like he was trying to fucking taste him with his stupid hand. “You okay?” Eric said, his voice all sex and gravel and Tristan was sure his knees were going to turn to jelly so he pushed harder back against the door. And Tristan didn’t really have any words, so he grabbed Eric’s head and pulled him into a sloppy, desperate kiss. Eric was smiling his Tristan-smile when he pulled back. “Stop thinking so hard, sweetheart. You’re going to give yourself an aneurysm.”
Tristan whimpered. He hated himself, but he couldn’t help it. His fingers tightened in Eric’s hair and he slumped a little, because even the door couldn’t really keep him upright anymore. Why the fuck was Eric calling him sweetheart, and why was Tristan liking it so much he couldn’t control his stupid limbs? This had to be Blaine’s fault. Fucking Blaine.
He was working up a really big list of ways Blaine Anderson had wronged him, but then Eric dropped to his knees. And was just there. In front of Tristan. With his hands on Tristan’s hips and holy Christ, he was nuzzling Tristan’s crotch. Tristan made a sound that he had never heard himself make before and shuddered. He kept one hand wound in Eric’s hair, but the other he really needed to use to cling to the door frame so he didn’t fall over. “Eric,” Tristan heard himself say, high and desperate and pleading.
“I’ve got you,” Eric said, his voice soft and comforting. Tristan felt something relax in him instantly which made him not completely freak out when Eric pulled Tristan’s pants and boxers down in one slow, steady drag. It gave Tristan enough change to protest, but he was really, really incapable of that right now. Tristan felt horribly exposed all of a sudden, so he clung harder to the door and closed his eyes.
At least until he felt Eric’s hand wrap around him and then he couldn’t really care about being exposed anymore. He bit his lip so he didn’t make more ridiculous noises and his eyes popped open. And Eric was just looking at him, all intense eyes and licking his lips and running his fingers over his cock like he had been waiting for a long time for a moment just like this. It hit Tristan suddenly that he probably had and Tristan couldn’t bit his lip hard enough to stop the way he moaned that time.
Eric’s eyes flicked up to his for a second and he gave Tristan that stupid, smug ass smirk. “You are such a-” Tristan started, but then Eric had wrapped his lips around the head of his cock and Tristan was pretty sure he didn’t know words anymore. Like, any of them. Eric was wet and warm and sucked lightly so there was just this gentle teasing pressure and Tristan couldn’t remember anything feeling this incredible. Ever. If he had known gay sex was going to be like this, he so would have started having it sooner.
It just got better when Eric slid his lips further down him and Tristan was just watching his dick kind of disappear further and further into Eric’s mouth and he was really worried he was going to pass out. He couldn’t help how his fingers were pulling at Eric’s hair, or how he couldn’t stop his hips from canting forward, trying to get more more more because nothing was like this. Tristan could feel Eric’s thumb stroking his hipbone from where his free hand had settled, pushing Eric against the door and holding him there and Eric was bobbing his head and sucking on his cock and there was no way Tristan was going to survive this. Tristan was aware that he was probably babbling nonsense, and somewhere along the way that turned into Eric’s name over and over again. Because everything was Eric right now- how his lips dragged on the sensitive skin of his dick, and how his tongue swiped around the head, and how every once and awhile his eyes would flicker up and catch Tristan’s and make Tristan’s heart stop a little. And there was that hand on his hip with that stroking thumb that seemed to mean even more than Eric’s fucking mouth on his cock.
Then Eric had to go and moan, something deep and needy that vibrated around Tristan’s cock and Tristan kind of got for the first time that Eric wanted this, not because he thought he should or because he was being nice but because he just wanted to. And Tristan really didn’t want too, not yet, but he was coming hard and long and he probably should have tried to warn Eric but he wasn’t really thinking about it at the time. Eric didn’t seem to mind though, because he moaned again and sucked on him even harder and Tristan had absolutely no bones in his body anymore and kind of slid down the door.
There was this obscene kind of sound when Eric released him and Tristan made another one of those weak kind of whimpering sounds. “Where is your face, I want to kiss you,” Tristan heard himself say, kind of pathetically, but he was too far gone to really care. Eric laughed, warm and affectionate and then there he was swimming into focus right in front of him.
“Hey there,” he said, his lips starting to twitch into that smug ass smile of his. Tristan slapped him lightly and kissed that smile away . Whatever issue he had with skin previously was really hard to believe right now, because he just wanted everything. He licked into Eric’s mouth and slid one hand down Eric’s side danced his fingers across the line of Eric’s jeans. Tristan really, really wished he could return the favor right now, but he also knew he would probably freak out and then Eric would never give him a blow job again, which absolutely could not happen. But he could pull Eric’s jeans open and slide his hand into Eric’s boxers. “Tristan?” Eric said, a question, but also kind of a breathy moan.
Tristan shut him up by sucking on his lower lip and didn’t let him think about it and slid his hand around Eric’s cock. It was like his and unlike his all at the same time and it felt weird and it felt wonderful and Tristan was still too high off of his orgasm to be able to really worry about anything but the way Eric was kissing him and the way Eric fucking sobbed when Tristan gave Eric’s cock an experimental tug. He could tell right away that Eric was close, and that was too fucking hot because it had been sucking Tristan off that had gotten him that way. “Fuck, Eric, fucking fuck, you are stupidly hot,” Tristan moaned against Eric’s lips, and he squeezed Eric’s cock and it was pulsing in his hand and Eric was biting down too hard on Tristan’s neck. Oh my God, I love you, Tristan thought, dropping his head back against door he was still awkwardly leaning against and then he promptly passed out.
When he came to, he had to spend a lot of time just kissing Eric, slow and sweet and without worrying about getting off sometime in the near future. It was kind of too much, and Tristan kind of wanted to start saying things about feelings, but he wasn’t ready to go there yet. But Eric seemed to kind of get it and later they passed out on the bed together which was much more comfortable.
Later, much later, when Tristan checked his phone, there was a new text message from Blaine.
Blaine (6:23): Don’t break his heart.
Eric was still kind of dozing at his side and Tristan looked at him kind of sadly and told him, “I don’t want to.”
Two weeks later, Tristan is pretty sure his life has never been more awesome. Or weird. Because yeah, he was pretty sure he and Eric had been kind of sort of dating and probably had been for a really long time. But that was kind of okay, because now they were kind of having sex. They hadn’t done the proverbial ‘it’ yet, but Eric got up close and personal with Tristan’s dick kind of a lot and Tristan was kind of working on it and had found out that he actually kind of really liked giving Eric hand jobs even if it meant his neck was really fucking destroyed all the time because Eric was kind of a vampire.
They did other things now, non-sexy type things, like hold hands when people weren’t looking. Sometimes in rehearsal, Tristan would throw his arm around Eric’s shoulders and kind of play with the lapels of Eric’s blazer and sometimes Eric would count out beats with his fingers on Tristan’s knee. And if the halls were clear sometimes Tristan would kiss Eric before they separated to go to class. And sometimes Eric would be the one kissing him. And Tristan kind of felt like he was that close to actually losing his mind, but he never really did.
Not even when he and Eric were basking in the afterglow, lying on Blaine’s old bed naked and haphazardly covered with a sheet and Tristan turned to Eric and said “I think we should have sex.” Eric raised an incredulous eyebrow at him. Which was fair, because they kind of just had sex and it was really kind of soon to be having it again. “I mean, like…I want you inside of me kind of sex.” And oh my God, did he actually just say that? Eric’s eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head. And he was turning kind of red. “Breathe, dude,” Tristan suggested helpfully, kicking Eric lightly under the sheets.
“Are you serious?” Eric asked when he remembered that air was a good thing. He grabbed Tristan’s hand and he was shaking just a little.
“Well, not if you’re going to freak out about it,” Tristan sighed. “Honestly. I just told you I kind of want your dick up my ass, if anyone should be freaking out it should be me.” Tristan really had a lot more to say about that whole thing, but then Eric was kissing him, slow and hot and with this kind of desire that was just this side of desperate. And Tristan just kind of clung to him and tried really hard not to think about how few lines were left and someone was just going to have to say something soon and then nothing would be the same.
They were so going to do this thing on Saturday night. It was the first time they had planned anything, which was kind of date-like, but then it was planning for anal sex, so it kind of wasn’t. And as much as Tristan was not freaking out about it as much as Eric was (because really, home boy was a fucking wreck), he felt this nervous kind of feeling building and by Friday, he was going just a little crazy.
But on Saturday, the dorms were quiet because most everyone seemed to have gone home (and Tristan thought that maybe Eric threatened everyone to make that miracle occur) and Tristan had been over at Eric’s all day playing video games and trying to work on his history paper and occasionally leaning over to kiss the back of Eric’s neck because the skin was really kind of soft there.
And then at one point, Eric kind of looked up at him with his dark eyes with this question in them, and Tristan swallowed hard and nodded. The first part was easy. Eric kind of slithered on top of him and kissed him, all crashing lips and probing tongue. Tristan could get lost in that forever, his hands sliding up under Eric’s shirt and fingers dancing over the intense kind of muscles on Eric’s back.
Even the part where Eric started to take off his clothes was familiar, if still a little brand new. Tristan didn’t get embarrassed anymore because Eric would look at him with those eyes and kiss him somewhere new and kind of exciting (like in-between his ribs or right over his belly button). And then Tristan helped Eric out of his shirt and got a little lost of a second playing his hands over Eric’s abs which were serious business and kind of turned Tristan on a lot more that he felt that they should.
But when they finally settled against each other, naked and lightly covered in sweat, something clicked and suddenly Eric wasn’t kissing him any more and Tristan couldn’t really breathe. He really, really wanted this for reasons that he couldn’t explain, but it was still ridiculously terrifying. And if the way Eric was kind of shaking meant anything, Eric was terrified too.
They paused for too long and all of a sudden things were awkward and Eric was getting that bolt-y kind of look and Tristan wasn’t sure if he would stop him if Eric did try to bolt.
“I had sex with Blaine.”
Oh God, Eric never wanted to get laid ever. Tristan blinked at his…whatever and Eric looked properly horrified. “What, like…recently?” Because Tristan was kind of always in Eric’s space and he would kind of know. He thought.
“No. A while ago. Before. I…thought I should tell you.”
Tristan shook his head hard. “No. No you shouldn’t have.” Because now Tristan was thinking about it and it was kind of awful because he really wanted to have sex with Eric, but now he was picturing Eric having sex with Blaine and that was kind of worse than thinking about Blaine having sex with Kurt. “We can never have sex now,” Tristan said mournfully, pushing away from Eric because now this was too weird and Blaine could ruin his life from the past which was just kind of talent and Tristan had to kind of respect that.
“It was just the once. And-”
“No. No. No no no no,” Tristan said, putting a hand over Eric’s mouth. “Never, ever give me details. Never.” And now Tristan kind of wanted to cry because fucking Blaine. Ruining his life. Again. “I love you, but we can never have sex now. I hope you’re pleased with yourself.”
And now Tristan really had to leave because he was worried he was going to start having a bad case of emo and his emo usually involved tears and calling Blaine and leaving him weepy messages. He was already starting to get all misty eyed and where the hell were his pants because he kind of needed those to get back to his room.
“You…love me?”
Tristan’s heart stopped and he stopped looking for his pants and looked at Eric who also looked like he was going to cry. And oh. Yeah. He might have said that. He wasn’t thinking clearly. He was stupid. And insane. And he didn’t even really know what love meant so it was really unfair for him to use that word especially because now Eric was looking like Tristan had stabbed him and not said something kind of nice.
“I…yeah,” Tristan said softly and managed not to die of the heart attack he was currently having. “I think so. Maybe. I don’t know.” His legs were going to stop working suddenly and he was going to brain himself on the edge of Eric’s desk and die. And he really hoped that was what happened, because then he would not be in this situation anymore.
“Don’t go.” And really, Tristan couldn’t fucking move, so he wasn’t actually going anywhere anytime soon, but he kind of got why Eric was saying it. “Tristan, I --”
“No,” Tristan cut him off, because no, no he wasn’t capable of dealing with this. Sex he could do. Feelings he could not. Never. Not ever. Because then he might actually be kind of super gay and he wasn’t ready for that. He would never be ready for that.
Eric sighed and just looked so fucking sad and Tristan felt like such a dick. And it was probably the completely wrong move right at the moment, but Tristan couldn’t just let that go, so he sat back down on the bed and reached out and kissed him. Because at least then he wouldn’t see how sad Eric looked and know that it was all his fault.
For one horrible second, Tristan was sure Eric was going to push him away and then all of this would be over and Tristan would have to become a monk in South America. But then Eric made one of those desperate near-sob kind of sounds and kissed him back, lips and teeth and tongue. I’m sorry, Tristan tried to say when he leaned in to skim his lips over Eric’s collar bone. I’m sorry, he said with his fingers tracing down the line of Eric’s hips. I’m sorry he moaned into Eric’s hair when Eric sucked at his neck and Tristan’s hand fisted Eric’s cock. I’m sorry he said when he pulled Eric up and whispered desperately into his mouth “Please, please fuck me.” I’m sorry I can’t do this the way I should. I’m sorry you terrify the shit out of me. I’m sorry I’m kind of a lot more fucked up than I thought I was.
“Okay, okay,” Eric was saying, and his pupils were so dark and wide and for one second Tristan was sure he loved him. And then Eric wasn’t looking at him because he was grabbing something off the nightstand and the moment passed and Tristan kind of felt like crying again because this was all not how today was supposed to go.
Then he really did kind of cry because there was this slick finger inside him and it kind of hurt and felt so weird. “Easy, Tristan, sweetheart, easy,” Eric was saying and Tristan knew his fingers had to be digging into Eric shoulders hard enough to hurt, but Eric didn’t seem to car and kept talking in that soft, soothing kind of voice like he…like he felt things that Tristan wasn’t capable of facing now. Or ever. But Tristan still felt like he was relaxing and it didn’t hurt so much anymore and was just weird and then kind of not.
Eric was peppering kisses across his chest and still talking to Tristan like he was something precious. “Please,” Tristan said, and he didn’t know what he was really asking for, but Eric understood and there was just more uncomfortable pressure and yeah, Eric was kind of fingering him right now. And it hurt again, but kind of not and actually kind of started to feel not weird. Then Eric kind of curled his fingers and Tristan made a sound he didn’t know he was capable of because nothing had ever felt like that before. There was just this sudden kind of white-hot heat all through him and he arched off the bed and Eric was there to catch him and mumble something comforting into his shoulder. Tristan couldn’t even care about that painful kind of burn when Eric added a third finger, because he kept hitting him just there and Tristan was kind of pushing himself on Eric’s fingers a little because this was another one of those ways gay sex was awesome and he so should have been doing it a long time ago.
“You are…” Eric said, and he never finished, but Tristan kind of got it because he was feeling the same way about Eric at the moment. Tristan felt like he was coming apart at the seams and every nerve in his body was vibrating and he felt like he could feel every inch of his skin in a way he usually didn’t. Eric hit that place inside of him again and Tristan felt this rush of need that he hadn’t ever felt before. Something all consuming and it was scary and amazing and he was pulling at Eric’s hair and licking at his lips.
“Please now, I can’t,” Tristan babbled against Eric’s lips and Eric stole all of his words by kissing him long and slow and so fucking deep that Tristan thought he was dying. Those fingers slipped out of him and Tristan cried out a little at the loss.
“Shh,” Eric breathed when he had to pull away, because, oh God, he was getting a condom and this was actually happening. And Tristan wanted to freak out about it, he really did, but that desperate kind of need was still coursing through him. “Are you?” Eric asked and it wasn’t even a complete idea, but Tristan nodded and touched Eric’s cheek. But he wasn’t really ready, because Eric’s cock was there and pressing into him and it just hurt, so much more than the fingers had and Tristan could feel tears on his cheeks because sex should never have to feel like this- painful and just too, too much like he was being split in half. And then it stopped. And Tristan opened his eyes and Eric was right there, looking down at him with this unreadable expression on his face and with a few beads of sweat clinging to his forehead. Tristan could tell that Eric was kind of trembling all over and he was biting at his lip so hard Tristan could see a little blood and Tristan realized Eric was kind of falling apart.
“Eric,” Tristan said shakily and smoothed a hand over Eric’s head and Eric kind of twisted his head to kiss Tristan’s palm and Tristan was in way, way over his head. And gradually it didn’t hurt so much anymore and Tristan kind of shifted and oh. Oh. “Oh,” he said, surprised and breathless. “You should…”
And Eric shuddered and dropped his sweaty forehead to Tristan’s shoulder. There was the weird, slick kind of slide and then Eric was thrusting gently in and out of him and his cock would just brush that place and Tristan was starting to come back around on this whole gay sex issue. Tristan had had sex before, quite a bit of it, but this was so different and he didn’t know if that was because it was with a guy or if that was because it was with Eric, but he was pretty sure he had never felt so close to anyone in his entire life. And it was still kind of weird and a little painful but so, so good. “Tristan,” Eric said into Tristan’s neck, all needy and hot and kind of wrecked.
“Fuck,” Tristan moaned and something just broke, and he was pushing into Eric’s thrusts, urging him to move faster and harder. He was clinging to Eric’s back and knew that he was probably going to leave a lot of scratch marks. He latched his lips onto the column of Eric’s throat, muffling moans and groans against his skin. And then Eric wrapped a hand around his cock and Tristan couldn’t do anything but let his orgasm rush through him, too hot and intense and he had never felt exposed like this before in his entire life. He blinked up at Eric’s face and their eyes locked and then Eric’s eyes went kind of crazy and holy fuck, Tristan could feel him coming in a way he never had before. He groaned and just fucking collapsed and Eric did the same thing except he was still on top of him and Tristan kind of couldn’t breathe in a really good way.
The next thing Tristan was aware of was Eric watching him like he was going to do something crazy and freak out. But his toes were still kind of tingling and he felt warm and like he didn’t have any bones at all. “Stop looking at me like that.”
“Are you okay?” Eric asked, like Tristan was going to break or something.
“Shut up. I’m fine. I’m awesome. Being gay is really neat,” Tristan said with a roll of his eyes and then Eric was laughing, but not really at him because Tristan kind of starting to laugh too and everything was okay again.
And things continued to be okay. Because whatever the fuck they were to each other it worked. They still wandered around Dalton doing stupid shit and being best friends. The just kind of had a lot of awesome sex all the time too. Because sex. Was awesome. And thank God, they never really started to talk about their feelings again, because it made Tristan not want to freak out and run for the hills. Without really talking about it, they both decided to go to college in New York and so they weren’t having weird separation anxiety like everyone around them was (Wes and David were practically inconsolable and it was apparent because Tristan totally kind of gave Eric a hand job during rehearsal one day and they didn’t even notice).
But then it was graduation and things were changing anyway, because Tristan didn’t know what they were if they weren’t at Dalton. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but he definitely hadn’t expected Eric to start talking about this apartment in the Village and how it was small but they could totally make it work and Tristan could have all of the shelf space for his action figures, even if he still had to keep that life size cardboard cut out of Edward Cullen deep, deep in the closet.
Tristan wasn’t sure how long he had been staring at his stupid reflection in the mirror but he did know that he was kind of crying like a big stupid girl because he could still hear the broken kind of way Eric said “Sweetheart” and he knew he shouldn't drag Blaine into this, not now, because Blaine was seriously losing his shit about Kurt going to fucking California but he had no idea what to do.
The phone rang twice and then life continued to be awful because Blaine didn’t answer. Kurt did.
“Now is not the time Tristan,” Kurt said, huffy and bitchy and kind of teary.
“I really need to talk to Blaine,” Tristan said desperately. “Like now.”
“You can’t,” Kurt said. Which was so not true, because Tristan was Blaine’s best bro and there was no way Kurt was going to - “he’s locked himself in the bathroom and he’s crying right now. So you can’t really talk to him.”
Well fuck. Fuck, his life was imploding, and he had no idea what to do. “Eric asked me to move in with him.”
There was a long kind of silence and then Kurt made a noise that made Tristan think Kurt was crying now. Like really crying. “Fuck you, Tristan.”
Wait. “What?”
“You get the chance to have this stupid life that I can’t and you’re going to whine about it? I don’t care about your fucking commitment issues because over here we are dealing with…” Kurt cut off and there were more of those sobbing kind of sounds and then he said, “Go find your asshole of a boyfriend, tell him you love him, go play house and get the fuck out of my life.”
And then Kurt hung up on him.
And huh. Well then.
Eric was, predictably, sitting on the third highest branch of his favorite tree, looking out over Dalton like some kind of weary god. And when he got closer, Tristan could see that Eric had tears on his cheeks, which, okay, made him feel like an asshole. But he kind of did that crying thing too, so they were probably even. “Dude,” Tristan said. “Get down.”
Eric threw a pine cone at him. Picture of maturity that he was. God damn it, Tristan was in love with a three year old.
“Eric. Come on.”
Another pine cone. Tristan deflected it with his stupid cardboard hat.
“I kind of get that your pissed at me for not handling that well.” And oh yeah, that was a really, really angry glare. “But we never talk about anything, so you can’t blame me for getting a little freaked out.”
Eric had a pine cone lifted but didn’t throw it. Progress.
“So will you come down here, so we can pretend to be adults for two seconds so we can make out again? And then maybe we could get in a quickie on the council table before the ceremony?”
Eric dropped the pine cone, but didn’t move. So fucking hell, Tristan was going to have to climb up there.
Tristan tried to climb up with his robe still on, but that wasn’t working so he had to shuck it and leave it on the ground, which was so going to get his dad to yell at him when the pictures all had him with mud on his stupid robe. But he was on a mission of love right now, so it was kind of more important. He so sucked at climbing though, and almost killed himself twice before he got to the branch Eric was perched on.
“You scare the ever loving fuck out of me,” Tristan said when he sat down next to Eric, swinging his feet a little and trying to get Eric to meet his eyes. “I still have no clue what I’m doing or what this is, except we’ve kind of been dating all year and somewhere along the way I fell in love with you and I don’t know what to do with that.”
Eric finally did look at him then, and his eyes were kind of shiny with tears, which made Tristan kind of want to cry again too. God damn it. Tristan sighed and lifted one hand to cup Eric’s cheek. “But I don’t want it to stop. Not now and maybe not ever, and an apartment would be cool, but I’m going to be a little bit of a mess about it and you have to not be a mess for a little bit so you can help me and feel free to cut me off at any point because I-”
And thank fucking God, Eric finally cut him off, pressing their lips together. They had done a whole lot of kissing in the past six months, but for the first time it felt…honest. Like completely. And it was kind of too sweet and it broke Tristan’s heart a little and this was one of those things Tristan was going to remember forever.
“I love you,” Eric whispered against his lips, and his voice was wavery and just as terrified as Tristan felt. But that was…okay. It was right.
“I know,” Tristan said. Not to be a dick about it, but he kind of did. Though it was kind of nice to hear. And they should really get down and worry about going to graduation, but Tristan set his head on Eric’s shoulder and Eric slid an arm around his waist and Tristan figured graduation could wait for a little longer. Because some stuff was just more important and this was one of those things. “I want Star Wars sheets.”
“No.”
“Please? Oh and do they make race car beds that are doubles? Because that would be awesome.”
“Oh my God, no.”
“I’m going to have to put my Edward poster over the bed. It’s so hard to sleep without him staring down at me sometimes. I like to think that he’s watching over me--”
And then Eric cut him off again. Life was kind of awesome like that sometimes.