I really have no clue where this one came from… oh well. Enjoy—KG64
This was, without a doubt, the most awkward moment of Peter's life. He didn't know how he had gotten himself into this mess.
Okay, that was a lie. He knew exactly how. He had lost a bet with his best friend on who would win a basketball game—a bet he would have known better than to make in the first place, if he had bothered to look at some statistics.
The bigger question was why. Why had he done it in the first place and why did the universe hate him enough to let him lose?
But he had, which was what led him to now.
He was standing in front of the school's most flamboyantly gay guy, shifting nervously from foot to foot.
Max, on the other hand, was thrilled. He had been infatuated with Peter since the first time he saw him, close to a year ago now. But no matter how confident and bubbly Max was on the outside, he hadn't yet worked up the courage to approach the senior on his own.
To have the other boy come up to him was like a dream come true.
Peter let out a long breath. Finally he said, "Max, right?" He was stalling. He knew perfectly well who Max was; they were both in GSA together, although Peter didn't go all that often. Only when Tyler dragged him along.
Max nodded, not caring how or why Peter knew his name. "And you're Peter."
"Yeah," the football player agreed, scratching the back of his neck. "Well… I was wondering if you'd like to go out Friday." He grimaced and forced himself to add, "On a date."
Excitement welled up inside Max, only to be smothered as Peter said, "But before you say yes or no, I need you to understand… I'm straight. It won't be going… anywhere."
Max deflated, but Peter was too nervous and embarrassed to notice. Sure, Max had known the jock was straight—or had girlfriends at least—but it was still disappointing. "Then why are you asking me out?"
Peter sighed. "You know my friend Tyler, right?"
Max nodded. "Sure. President of the GSA."
Peter nodded. "Well, we have this tendency to make bets. Well, this time, I lost. The bet was he had to take a girl on a date if he lost, I had to take a guy if I lost. And… well… you're the only gay guy I know—other than Tyler—who's also single. I mean, you're a good guy, and I would have preferred to take a playboy jerk on a date. Then at least he'd be trying to use me as much as I was using him. But… well…" Peter shrugged. "I just needed you to know the score."
Max was quiet for a long time. Peter's words were making him feel conflicted. He was sort of upset that Peter would have rather gone on a date with some slut, but he was happy that Peter's reasoning behind that was that he didn't want to hurt Max's feelings. And Peter was also telling Max what was going on up front, rather than leading him on. So eventually he asked, "What happens if I say no?"
Peter chuckled. "I owe Tyler thirty bucks."
"And if I say yes?" Max was seriously beginning to consider it. Sure, it wouldn't be real, but he could live out his fantasy for one night. Well, part of his fantasy.
Peter rolled his eyes. "I take you on a date and Tyler gets supposed proof for his long-standing, ludicrous belief that I'm bisexual."
"So… basically… in the long run, you get nothing out of this either way?"
Peter thought for a moment before saying, "Pretty much."
Max licked his lips, making Peter suddenly—although barely—aware of how full and soft they looked. Finally Max replied, "One condition."
Peter nodded, not sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing that Max was actually considering accepting his proposal.
On the one hand, Peter would have just as soon paid the thirty bucks and been done with it. Unfortunately, he was required—under silent, mutual agreement—to do anything he could to ensure the date, provided it didn't cause Max emotional or physical harm. And Tyler had reluctantly acknowledged out loud that Peter didn't have to go through with it if the guy Peter asked out gave the condition of any kind of sex.
On the other hand… Peter was far less opposed to going on a date with the dark-haired, green-eyed, colored-skinny-jeans-wearing sophomore than he thought he'd be.
Max took a deep breath and said, "I want a goodnight kiss. Lips, no cheek." Peter inhaled sharply and Max quickly added, "I'm not asking for a make out session or anything. Just a kiss. Preferably a bit more than just a peck on the lips, but you don't need to use tongue or anything."
Peter was tempted to say no. But he knew that if Tyler ever found out he'd be in trouble. So he closed his eyes and nodded. "Deal."
Max's heart was beating like mad as he got ready for his date with Peter. He knew the date was a bad idea. It would only give him a taste, leaving him wanting more of the tall, blonde, blue-eyed, straight jock. But he just couldn't bring himself to turn down this one opportunity for a date with the man of his dreams.
Quite literally, the man of his dreams.
Meanwhile, Peter was glaring at Tyler. "This is your fault," he accused.
"You didn't have to take the bet," Tyler reminded him for what felt like the hundredth time, not bothering to look away from the video game he was playing. "I mean, you could have taken the bet but argued with me over what the loser had to do."
"Yeah, whatever," Peter retorted.
Tyler paused his game and turned to look at him. He snorted. "For a straight guy going on a date with a dude, you're spending a hell of a lot of time getting ready."
Peter decided that ignoring him was the best option.
After a few more minutes, Peter was ready to go. As he was walking out, Tyler called, "I put lube and a new box of condoms in your glove box!"
Peter flipped him off and left his best friend alone in his house—probably not the best decision. Then again, going on a date with Max probably wasn't the best idea either.
Max was beyond jittery by the time Peter arrived. He had lost count of how many times he had changed clothes, ultimately ending up in something he would have worn to school anyway.
That seemed to be what Peter had done as well, thankfully, so Max didn't feel underdressed.
"Hey," Peter greeted. "You ready?"
"Almost," Max answered, "Just give me a couple seconds."
He left Peter standing awkwardly just inside the door and ran to find his mom. "Hey, I'm leaving now."
"Leaving where?" she asked airily, fixing a sequin onto the dress she was making.
"To go on a date," Max said, "with that guy I like? I told you this."
"Guy?" she asked as though something was off. "Oh, that's right. You're gay, I almost forgot." Max sighed, mostly because there was no sarcasm in her voice. His mother was always off in her own little world, meaning she had probably actually temporarily forgotten his sexual preferences. "Well, have fun dear. Use protection."
"Mom, it's not like that!" Max objected.
"If you say so, sweetie," his mother answered, still not really paying attention. "But if it turns out that it is like that, use protection."
"Mom, he's not even gay!"
That got her attention. She turned and tilted her head to the side. "You're going on a date with a straight boy?"
"Yes," Max sighed, thankful he had finally gotten through to her. "I might get a goodnight kiss, but probably nothing more than that."
She frowned and shook her head. "Kids these days," she muttered as she returned to the sparkly, sequined dress. "Use protection."
Max groaned, not bothering to tell his mother—again—one, that Peter was straight and two, that Max himself was a virgin. Meaning whatever his mother thought he got up to on the occasional dates he went on was irrelevant anyway.
He dashed back down the stairs to Peter, smiling. "Let's go."
Peter nodded. "Sounds good."
They climbed into the car and sat in silence for a while. Finally Peter said, "You can talk. I don't bite."
"Unfortunately," Max muttered. Then he gasped, slapped a hand over his mouth and turned red.
Peter just laughed. "You sound just like Tyler. Except he's a smartass with too much confidence, so he doesn't get embarrassed about it."
Max let out a sigh of relief. Peter wasn't upset. Max knew nothing would come of it, but he wanted it to go well anyway. He didn't want this to be a night that made him feel humiliated every time he thought of it.
"I'm just… nervous," Max admitted. "I want this to go well. I mean, I've liked you for a while." He bit his lip, not having meant to say that either. Peter was alarmed by that statement and the look he sent Max's way clearly conveyed that. "Sorry," Max immediately apologized, "I didn't mean to make you feel awkward."
Peter shook his head. "No, I'm sorry," he said. "You're probably sick of having a crush on a straight guy, and this… date likely isn't helping anything."
"Not really," Max admitted, looking down at his hands. "But that's okay."
Peter smiled and pulled into the parking lot of a small Mexican restaurant. "You ready?"
A small giggle escaped Max. "Shouldn't I be asking you that? You're the one who's never been on a date with another guy."
Peter grimaced. "Fair enough."
After they were seated, Peter glanced around and said, "I almost failed Spanish one, you know."
Max smiled. "Really? Spanish… eh. I didn't bother taking it. I settled for Japanese instead."
Peter made a face. "Different language and all the little symbols? I would have actually failed that."
Max laughed. "Well, you have football."
Peter smiled and nodded. He was about to answer when their server came up. "Hello, my name is Amanda and I'll be taking your order today!" she said cheerfully, tucking some straws into her apron. She looked up and said, "Whoa. Hey, Peter."
"Hey," Peter answered stiffly, far from being thrilled to see his ex-girlfriend.
She frowned. "What are you doing here? People are going to think you're on a date or something."
Peter sighed. "We are."
Amanda's eyes widened. "You're gay?"
"For one night," Peter muttered. "I lost a bet with Tyler."
"Oh," Amanda said, obviously aware of the things Peter and Tyler bet on—and what they bet with. "What can I get you to drink?"
"I'll have a coke," Peter said.
"Same for me," Max said cautiously.
They perused the menus in silence. Amanda came back with their drinks and they ordered, enchiladas for Max, fajitas for Peter.
There was a short, awkward silence before Peter said, "This isn't going to go well. We need to find something to talk about. You're a sophomore, right?"
Max nodded. "Yeah, why?"
Peter shrugged. "It just occurred to me that I wasn't sure. You do anything after school?"
"You mean like a sport?" Max asked skeptically.
"Sure," Peter answered. "Or drama or journalism or science club or something. Anything. I don't know what kind of things you're into."
"Ah," Max replied, stirring his drink with his straw. "I'm in marching band. And the pep band during basketball season."
Peter's eyes lit up. "Really? You're in the marching band?" Max nodded. "You guys are great," Peter said. "I wish Coach would let us listen to more than thirty seconds of the show."
Max stared in surprise. "You actually think that?"
"Of course," Peter answered. "Why wouldn't I?"
Max shrugged. "Most players don't seem to understand how hard we work at it. They think it's all for them, not for the music."
"Oh," Peter agreed, "I could see that. Well, you should hang around after one of the games. Stop by the locker rooms and say hello."
Max snorted. "Me? The locker rooms? Hello, queer kid, tons of jocks, any one of which could eat me for breakfast." Peter snickered. "What?"
"Just thinking of what Tyler would say to that, considering he's gay and on the football team," Peter explained.
"Oh yeah," Max replied, blushing. Peter noted that he was rather cute like that, bright red, hunching his shoulders up as if to hide. "But what would he say?"
Peter smiled. "He'd say, 'yummy.'"
"You said any one of the jocks could eat you for breakfast," Peter answered. "Do me a favor and never say that in front of Tyler. He'll take you seriously."
Max snorted. "My best friend… she thinks this whole thing is entirely ridiculous."
"So do I," Peter pointed out. "Don't you?"
Max shrugged. "The whole idea of it, yes. In actuality… I'm just excited that I get this chance, even if it isn't real."
Peter grinned. "So we're in agreement that Tyler is crazy in thinking that this is serious in any way, shape or form?"
Max stared. "He thinks this is serious?"
Peter rolled his eyes. "He's got it in his head that this date is going to make me realize my bisexuality. And then if I admit that, he'll likely jump me."
Max laughed. Then their food arrived and the conversation dwindled.
Once they were done eating, Peter paid and they went back out to Peter's car. "A movie?" he asked.
Max was surprised. He had thought Peter would just do the bare minimum; take him to dinner, take him home, call it good. But he nodded. "I'd like that."
Peter didn't pay much attention to the movie—some action flick Max had picked out. He was too busy watching Max. The younger boy was just… adorable. There was no other word for it. Particularly when something unexpected happened; he'd let out a little peep and jump in his seat, his 3D glasses almost falling off.
He shifted uncomfortably but didn't pull his hand away when Max took hold of it. But his discomfort was mostly because—even though he would die before admit it to Tyler—holding Max's hand felt nice.
The lights came back on and Max glanced down, suddenly realizing he was holding Peter's hand. "Sorry," he said sheepishly.
Peter just shrugged, stood and stretched. "Anywhere else you want to go before I take you home?" he asked as they left the theatre.
Max thought a moment and then looked up at the sky. The moon was a bit more than half full, and the sky was clear. "The park by my house?" he asked. "It's really pretty on clear nights."
"Uh, okay," Peter said uncertainly.
They got to the park and walked around, Max sneaking his hand into Peter's. The taller boy didn't do anything beyond readjust his hand slightly to make it more comfortable and hold Max's hand loosely.
They walked around the pond once, ending back at the playground. Where Max caught sight of the empty swings. "Ooh!" he squealed, running over to them. When he heard Peter's rich, deep laugh, Max turned and stuck his tongue out. "You know you want to."
Peter continued laughing, shaking his head. "Not particularly, no. But I'll push you."
Max giggled, blushing, hoping desperately that Peter wouldn't notice.
Peter did, but he didn't comment, as it made him nervous how cute he thought Max was.
He pushed Max on the swing for a while, before pulling him to a stop and saying, "I think I should probably take you home now. I mean… it's getting kind of late, and I have to work in the morning…"
"Oh," Max said, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice. "Right. Sounds good." His night was coming to an end, and it almost would have been better if the date had sucked. Instead it was everything he had imagined and more.
They climbed into Peter's car and Peter stuck the key in the ignition, but he didn't start the car. He sat there thinking hard for a long time. And then he turned, wrapped his hand around the back of Max's neck and kissed him. Max gasped in surprise, not expecting it, and Peter took the opportunity to flick his tongue into Max's mouth, tasting him.
Max melted into the kiss, kissing back as though his life depended on it. They pulled apart when the need for oxygen was too great to be denied. They stared at each other, panting. Max was in a daze; Peter was terrified. So he decided to drown the terror by kissing Max again, since that at least was good enough to block out all thought.
But it was getting uncomfortable, leaning across the console. So he squeezed between the two front seats into the backseat, and he dragged Max after him. They continued, getting more and more worked up. Literally, Peter suddenly realized. He could feel Max's hardness against his leg, and rather than make him realize he needed to stop because this was a guy he was kissing, it made him ache with even more need. He scrambled into the front seat and snatched the lube and condoms from the glove box, too aroused to even think of silently cursing Tyler to the pits of hell. He settled on top of Max and showed him the objects. Max's eyes widened at what Peter was suggestion. "Only if you want to," Peter said, his voice husky and lower than normal.
Max moaned and nodded. He knew he was dreaming and that he was going to wake up with sticky sheets, but he really didn't care. The dream was too good to let go of. So he enjoyed every sensation as Peter stripped them down. He enjoyed the feeling of their erections rubbing together as Peter continued to kiss him. He reveled in the feeling of Peter's fingers lubing him up and stretching him gently. He watched with wide eyes as Peter rolled a condom onto his throbbing cock.
Max was suddenly very, very aware that this wasn't a dream and that he was going to lose his virginity in the back of a car. But it was the back of Peter's car, so he was having trouble finding a problem with that. He cried out in pain as Peter entered him, in spite of the fact that Peter was being unbelievably gentle.
Peter waited for Max's okay, and when it came, he didn't hesitate.
They continued until they both came, Max all over his hand and stomach, Peter into the condom inside Max.
They lay there, scrunched in the backseat for several minutes, breathing heavily, until Max whispered, "That was amazing." He was unsure if that was because the sex had been particularly good—he didn't know, as he had nothing to compare it to—or if it was just because it was Peter. He strongly suspected it was a combination of the two, although more heavily influenced by the fact that it was Peter.
But Max's voice seemed to break through Peter's trance. He blinked in surprise. Then he said, "I need to take you home." His voice was gruff. Max's heart fell; no more gentleness, no sweet nothings, no light kisses. But he didn't comment, following Peter's example in pulling his pants back up and his shirt back on.
The ride back to Max's house was tense and quiet. Peter parked, leaned over to give Max his promised goodnight kiss—although it turned out to be nothing more than a peck on the cheek, but Max was too stunned by everything to care—and finally said, "Goodnight." Still in that gruff, harsh tone. He didn't even turn off the car.
Max got out of the car onto shaky legs. He tried to find words to thank Peter or something, but nothing came to mind, so he just stood there for several seconds with his mouth halfway open. He then gave a short nod and closed the door. But as he closed the door, he heard Peter whispering, "I'm straight. Straight. I don't like guys. Straight."
Max trudged into his house, up the stairs and into his room, where he locked the door and fell into bed. He began to cry as the reality of what had happened hit him.
He had had the most amazing date of his life. And then he had lost his virginity. And then he'd had his heart broken.
All because of a straight guy.
As Max cried, Peter muttered to himself in his car. "I'm straight, I'm straight, I'm straight." He repeated this mantra over and over again for several blocks, at which point he had to pull over, open the door and throw himself onto the sidewalk, emptying his stomach onto the lawn of someone he'd never met and now hoped he never would.
After taking several calming breaths, he got back in his car and drove the rest of the way home. He still felt sick, but it wasn't the fact that he'd had sex with another guy that bothered him. It was the fact that he enjoyed it.
But even that wasn't the root of his nausea; the real problem was that he had just forced himself to realize that he wasn't the person he'd always thought he was. He had always been so sure he was straight; he liked girls, everything about them. But he couldn't be straight and still enjoy sex with another guy as much as he had.
He stole some of his mom's sleep medications and was soon down for the count.
The next day, Peter was distracted all day at work, and he could only thank god that Tyler had the day off.
Max, on the other hand, had to face his best friend. "So," Jessica asked, bouncing into his room without knocking, "How'd it go?"
Max shrugged. "I don't want to talk about it."
"That bad?" Jessica asked sympathetically.
Max shook his head. "That good. And now… it actually physically hurts, to know that I'll never get that again." Not to mention the ache reminding him with every movement what he had done with Peter in the back of the car.
"Oh, sweetie," Jessica said, hugging him, "I'm so sorry. There's a guy out there for you, I know it."
"Yeah, whatever," Max muttered. "Can you just… Jess, can you leave? I'd like some time alone."
She nodded. "Okay, Maxie. I'll see you Monday."
Max sniffled and rolled over in his bed, wincing slightly from how sore he was. And in any other circumstances, it would have felt wonderful, to remember it. But now it just hurt. Because Max had come to a conclusion.
Peter was gay, in the closet, and Max had just been one of his stupid bets with Tyler.
Monday came around, and Peter avoided Max like the black plague. He managed to act normal for most of the day. Until Tyler asked for a ride home and Peter agreed.
Tyler was cheerful as he settled into the front seat. He chattered about nonsense for the first half of the ride before saying, "Oh yeah! My lube."
He opened the glove box and grabbed the lubricant, freezing when he realized it was opened. "Peter…"
"Tyler," Peter said, gritting his teeth, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. "Don't. Just don't."
"Peter, what the hell did you do?" Tyler screeched.
"Nothing you wouldn't have done," Peter ground out. "Now drop it. I'm not ready to talk about this. I'm going through a bit of a personal crisis."
"Personal crisis?" Tyler asked, offended. "Is that what call sleeping with another guy?"
"No," Peter growled, "My personal crisis is realizing that I might not be straight, something I've believed without question up until Friday. You get it? I don't… ugh. Sleeping with a guy is not a problem in itself, Tyler! It's what it means that's the problem!"
Tyler simmered down. They were almost to Peter's house when he couldn't keep quiet any longer and snickered, "So you actually screwed him?"
"Yes," Peter sighed. "And now I'm so confused it isn't even funny. Not to mention guilty, since we both got off and then I was just like 'okay, I need to take you home.'"
"Harsh," Tyler noted.
"I was freaking out," Peter said with a sigh. "And honestly… how can I face him again, Tyler? I mean… I kept telling him I was straight, over and over again, and then we had sex and then I just left. I wish I could just forget the whole damn thing." Peter parked his car in the drive and they both got out.
They were quiet as they walked to Peter's front door. Finally Tyler asked, "Would you do it again?"
Peter hesitated, entirely sure how to answer the question. "I don't know."
Tyler rolled his eyes. "It's a simple question, Peter. Would you or would you not do it again?"
Peter bit his lip. "Have sex with a guy in general… maybe. Have sex with Max… probably."
Tyler gaped at him. "You seriously… you're actually…" He took a deep breath. "I can't believe you're actually considering this, Peter."
"Neither can I," Peter sighed. "It's just… I'm not stupid. To have enjoyed it like I did… I have to be at least a little bent. I'm just struggling with the fact that I'm not completely straight and the fact that I don't know how far it goes. Like… I still like girls, and I don't remember ever wanting to kiss another guy besides Max. So I don't know if I'm just really picky as far as guys go, or if he's the only guy I roll that way for."
Tyler thought for a moment and then pointed out, "But you do roll that way for him."
"Very much so," Peter admitted. The memory of Max caught in his orgasm flashed through Peter's mind and he repeated, "Very much so."
Tyler shrugged. "So you're at least a little bisexual." Tyler grinned. "Like I always said."
"Lovely." He sighed. "The fact remains that my mind is desperately trying to convince my hormones that I'm straight. And my hormones are fighting back with a blast of something… not straight. And I think the hormones are winning, and that fact makes me feel uncomfortable and dizzy and slightly nauseous."
Tyler just laughed at him. "You'll figure it out."
"Soon, hopefully, since even when my rational brain is screaming, 'straight,' all the rest of my brain can say is, 'I want Max.'"
It was three weeks before Peter's emotions had settled enough to allow him to approach Max. Max scowled at him. "What do you want?" he asked bitterly.
"To apologize," Peter answered. "I'm sorry I ran away that night. It's just… really scary, to suddenly be faced with the fact that you're not who you always thought you were."
"What do you mean?" Max asked, glowering.
"I always, always, always thought I was straight," Peter answered. "But with you… I feel anything but that. And it confused and scared me." He looked down. "And I was hoping I could make it up to you. By taking you on a real date. One where it's not just a farce the whole time."
Max snorted. "And have you use me for sex again?"
"No!" Peter said horrified. "That was never part of the plan!"
"Then why the hell did you have lube in your car, if you were so convinced of your straightness?" Max hissed. The condoms he could understand, but the lube would be harder to explain.
"Tyler," Peter answered. "He put it there, as a joke."
Max's scowl deepened. "And how did you know exactly how gay sex works?"
Peter grimaced. "When Tyler was coming to terms with the fact that he's gay, he made me watch gay porn with him. And then he regales me with tales of his escapades just because he knows it pisses me off to hear about it."
Max's face went blank at the simple, quite believable explanation. "I still don't believe you."
Peter nodded. "I understand. Just… I really do want to take you out. End it with a goodnight kiss, no sex." He hesitated and then decided he was already screwed one way or another, so he might as well go big or go home. "What I'd actually like is for you to be my boyfriend, but if you don't want that, I get it."
Max tried to process Peter's words. Peter wanted him to be his boyfriend. Finally he frowned and said, "Exclusive? None of this open relationship business?"
Peter shook his head. "Entirely exclusive."
Max still wasn't sure. "One date. We'll see how it goes."
Peter was relieved.
A week later, Max joined Peter, Tyler and their friends for lunch. "This your new boy-toy, Tyler?" one of the guys snickered.
"Hardly," Tyler snorted. After taking a bite of plastic-y macaroni and cheese, he asked Peter, "I take it that it went well."
"Yes," Peter replied with a smile. "Very."
"I hate to say it," Tyler said with a smirk, "But I told you so."
Peter scowled. "Screw you."
"Would you?" Tyler asked with an air of mock hopefulness. "Now that you're bi?"
"No, I've got a boyfriend how is much more attractive than you and much less annoying," Peter retorted, ignoring the stunned looks the other guys were giving him, Tyler and Max. Then Peter shuddered. "Besides, screwing you would be like screwing my own brother."
"I could see that," Tyler agreed. "But one thing needs to change."
"And what's that?"
"We need to have bets a lot more often."