Rating: NC-17
Summary: Sequel to 'These Lies Are Killing Me' Kenny has doubts, and finds a way to get over them.
*****
Kenny’s had a lot of time to come up with fantasies about Larry. This was always one of the more everyday, back-up fantasies, but who’d have guessed it would turn out to be one of his favourite things to do? Stretched out on Larry’s living room couch, necking, is possibly the best way to pass the time between getting home from school and Larry’s parents getting in.
Of course, it has to stop then, when Mrs Gold comes in. The rule is no fooling around in the house and Kenny sleeps in Hilary’s old room when he stays over which, in practical terms, means no fooling around when Larry’s parents are there, and wait until they’re asleep before Larry sneaks out to spend the night with him. That way, Mr and Mrs Gold get to disapprove of teenage sex while still giving them somewhere to be together. Kenny’s own house is definitely out; his mother is always there and she has ears like a bat. If she knows about him and Larry, she hasn’t let on, but Kenny can’t bear the thought of his father finding out. So he doesn’t bring Larry over anymore, and the hours he spends at Larry’s house are totally worth his mother’s complaints about him never being home.
When they eventually surface for air, they settle on to the couch with Kenny leaning against Larry, his head on Larry’s chest. It’s all so sweet it might be nauseating if it were happening to someone else, but Kenny thinks it’s amazing. How many times has he thought about doing this, about Larry letting him get this close?
There’s other things he’s been able to try, like holding hands while they watch a movie, and spooning together in bed. Pretty tame compared to some of the other stuff they’ve done, but this is the stuff he’s dreamed about for years, before Larry ever found out about him. Before he was even old enough to want anything else.
The weirdest thing about it all is, Larry actually seems to like all that stuff. At first, Kenny was sure they were just going to be best friends who had sex - that when they weren’t doing it, things would be like they always were - but Larry actually seems into the whole boyfriend-thing. He smiles when Kenny takes his hand, puts his head on Kenny’s shoulder when they watch TV.
It’s like everything he ever wanted just fell right in his lap.
Which is why he hates that little voice inside of him; the one that says, ‘this isn’t real’. Lately it’s getting harder and harder to keep it quiet. It’s one thing when they’re actually kissing or having sex - the happy little noises Larry makes are enough evidence that he’s enjoying himself. But when they’re just hanging out, or when Kenny goes back home, that’s when it starts. That gnawing feeling in his gut, that knowledge that’s as certain as the fact that one day he’ll die, that eventually Larry’s going to remember that he likes girls and Kenny’ll get the ‘let’s just be friends’ talk. And he’ll have to step back and smile and be the good friend while Larry goes back to dating other people, dating girls, who can give him so much more than Kenny ever can.
He tries not to think about it as Larry reaches around him for the TV remote, switching between channels while his free hand strokes absently over Kenny’s shoulder. They have fun, they’re probably closer than they’ve ever been. What else matters?
Apart from the fact that Larry only started this because he wanted Kenny around more. And that Larry doesn’t really want him, not like he wants Larry. And that Larry doesn’t even know just how much Kenny wants him, or why. Kenny’s never told him, and the longer this goes on, the more he realises he never can.
It’s stupid, really. If he’d said back in the beginning that he liked Larry, even just said he thought Larry was cute, things wouldn’t have been so bad. But now? Telling Larry about the way he’s felt all these years? It’s totally going to freak him out.
Which is why he has to treat this like a casual thing, like Larry is, and which is why this isn’t going to last.
Sometimes he wonders if there’s anything he can do to keep Larry around, to get him to be the one to turn this into something deeper. So he gives Larry as much as he can. Pretends he doesn’t notice everyone at school staring at them when they’re together, kisses him like there’s no tomorrow, gives him blowjobs that last an age.
When Mr Gold gets home that evening (doing his best not to comment on the way the two of them are cuddled up on the couch), he tells Larry he’s taking Mrs Gold out for dinner, and since Mike’s got plans with his friends, it means they’ll have the house to themselves until late. He gives them the usual vague lecture about remembering the house rules and not doing anything stupid, which translates as ‘be safe, and make sure you’re finished by the time we get home’. There’s that brief moment where all three of them are uncomfortable - they still happen, but they’re not as bad as when Mr Gold first found out about him and Larry, and he knows it’s definitely better than anything his own father might do or say.
He and Larry make dinner, goofing around in the kitchen seeing who can do the most TV chef impressions (Larry wins by miles, as always). They eat in front of the TV, knees brushing together, talking so much that Kenny’s food gets cold before he can finish it. When they clean up, Larry asks him if this is how it’s going to be when they’re in college, the two of them sharing a place and being all domestic and stuff.
The word ‘domestic’ throws him completely; he tries to picture the two of them still together in college and just can’t do it. He knows, like he knows the sky is blue, that it won’t be long before Larry comes to his senses. He’ll be lucky if they’re still together at graduation, and that’s only a couple of months away now.
Larry notices his silence, asks him what’s wrong.
He can’t answer, so instead he grabs the front of Larry’s shirt and pulls him close. Kisses him hard and hopes he can shut out that voice in his head. Larry’s hands are still wet from drying dishes, but he doesn’t care, even when Larry presses both hands to Kenny’s back, kissing back just as fiercely.
When he’s done, he keeps hold of Larry’s shirt and leads him upstairs, strips him without a word and makes love to him. Not like before, when it’s just been blowjobs and hand jobs and frottage (a word they found on the Internet, and they still can’t agree on how to pronounce it). He takes his time, kisses his way from shoulder to shoulder, collarbone to navel, then down between his legs, further down and back than he’s ever gone before, until Larry is keening and writhing and Kenny thinks his head might explode from the intensity of it, from the sheer, unbelievable hotness of it. He knows Larry’s embarrassed, caught unprepared, and doesn’t care. He needs this, wants Larry, every bit of him. He - go on, admit it - loves Larry. Yeah, Kenny loves him, so much that it hurts, so much that he has to touch every part of Larry with every bit of his own body.
But Larry’s shoving at his shoulders, grunting uncomfortably, and the thought of Larry not wanting this makes him nauseous. He backs off immediately, ready to apologise. Larry’s face is red, his eyes wide. He sits up, leaving space on the bed between them. Kenny bites his lip, prepares to say sorry, but Larry interrupts him. Asks Kenny if he really wants to do…that.
When Kenny thinks about it, he realises he actually doesn’t. Can’t picture himself over Larry, inside Larry. Can’t bear the thought of causing Larry pain.
Instead, he says he wants Larry to do that to him. Kind of stutters around it, hints and insinuates, until Larry gets the picture and starts stuttering too. Kenny can tell he’s torn, not really sure if he wants it, but suddenly Kenny can’t think of anything better. This is the thing he can give Larry, the thing that will put him on a par with all those girls Larry’s ever lusted after.
When Larry doesn’t give him a definite answer, Kenny scrambles off the bed and starts digging through drawers until he finds Larry’s condoms. Slightly surprising is the tube of KY also stuffed in his sock drawer, noticeably used. He doesn’t question it, or Larry’s slightly sheepish look when he brings it back to the bed. Just hands them over and pulls off his own clothes, kisses Larry once, and lays down, nudging Larry over to one side of the bed. Takes Larry’s hand, feels just how much he’s shaking. Squeezes out lube on to Larry’s hand when he’s too nervous to do it himself, and guides him to the right place. Talks him through it like he’s calming a foal, soft and low until Larry can move by himself. There’s way too much lube and it feels kind of icky, but at least Larry’s got his hand down there, probing and teasing and wincing a little until Kenny moans and tells him it’s good, and Larry laughs nervously and pushes further.
He puts on a show of writhing against Larry’s hand, even though all the lube means he doesn’t actually feel that much apart from wet and cold, but it works; soon Larry’s biting his lip and breathing a little faster while Kenny looks at his cock and tries to imagine what it’ll feel like inside him.
It takes an age for Larry to settle between his legs, get his cock lined up and pressed against Kenny, pushing his way oh so slowly inside. It’s pain like he’s never known, discomfort that his body tries to fight even though he wants Larry there, inside him. He breathes through it and tries not to move, waits with growing impatience until Larry stops pushing, exhales and kind of collapses on top of him. Kenny holds him, strokes over his back and listens to Larry’s harsh breathing and barely audible words of disbelief.
Eventually Larry lifts up enough to look at him, concern and disbelief in his eyes, so Kenny reaches up to kiss him, hands drifting down to Larry’s ass to get him to move. Frankly, it’s uncomfortable with Larry just…just there, but he hopes it’ll get better if he moves.
It’s still awkward - Larry can’t seem to build up any kind of rhythm - but after a while it does sort of feel good. When he’s comfortable enough to move himself, he manages to get a leg wrapped around Larry’s, and that feels like they’re pressed closer together. That makes it better somehow, Larry over him and inside him, heavy and warm, and soon Larry’s grunting and pushing harder, his skin damp and flushed as he thrusts into Kenny, until he groans and bucks uncontrollably for a few seconds.
He strokes Larry’s hair, damp with sweat, and kisses his shoulder, waiting for Larry to move. It hurts again when Larry pulls out, sitting back on his heels to get rid of the condom, but then there’s this weird emptiness, and he’s cold and sore and eager for Larry to come back. He hopes Larry doesn’t notice that he didn’t come, that his hard-on wilted some time ago
Larry leaves the bed for a while, comes back with tissues to wipe at the lube making Kenny’s legs and ass uncomfortably sticky. Tissue’s probably not the best thing to use, but Larry does his best. When he’s done, Kenny grabs his wrist and pulls him to lay down on the bed.
Larry’s all concerned, convinced that he’s hurt Kenny, but Kenny shushes him and kisses him and assures him they’re going to do it again. He figures it’s got to get easier. And better.
They don’t really talk much, but they don’t fall asleep. Kenny settles with his head on Larry’s chest, trying to ignore the ache and the emptiness inside him. Larry’s kind of shell-shocked, and it’s oddly cute - he smiles at that, at how only Larry could be this cute after fucking someone’s ass.
They’ve been laying there a while when they hear the front door open. Mike calls out, announces he’s home and he’s going to watch TV. Larry asks if he wants to get up and go downstairs, but Kenny holds him tighter, so Larry gets the covers pulled up over them, making a warm little cocoon.
He thinks about Larry’s hopeful smile when Kenny told him he wanted to try it again, and falls asleep first, Larry’s fingers stroking gently over his shoulder.