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If you asked anyone at McKinley who the biggest stoner in the school was, they'd probably say...well, they'd probably say Stoner Brett and they'd probably be right, but if you asked who the biggest stoner in New Directions was, about 90 percent would probably say Puck and the other 10 percent would guess Brittany...or maybe reversed, maybe 90 percent would say Brittany because she's so...you know...but, then again, Puck talks about smoking weed the most, so...and the people who guessed Brittany would probably guess Santana smokes with her, so Santana would probably come in third in the poll, and...
...and, fuck, Sam's train of thought just derailed.
Oh, right. Biggest stoner in glee club. Not Puck or Brittany or even Santana, but pretty much the last person you'd expect.
Mike. Fucking. Chang.
Sam had never smoked before he started hanging out with Mike at his house, and he still hasn't, but only because Mike prefers edibles. Here are all the advantages of edibles, according to Mike:
1. No smoke smell.
2. Doesn't burn your throat or make you cough.
3. No need for paraphernalia that could be as incriminating as the actual drugs.
4. Easier to hide because they look just like gummy candies—because they are gummy candies—so even if your mom finds your stash she'll figure you're just hiding junk food because your dad doesn't let you keep that stuff in the house but your mom thinks a little sugar now and then is totally harmless so she's not gonna tell your dad or even throw it away, and even if your dad finds it, well he would throw it away and probably lecture you about healthy eating and maybe the dangers of attracting ants to your bedroom, but he wouldn't know what it actually was.
5. (And this is the one Mike is most passionate about, the one he goes on and on about, and if you've never heard Mike Fucking Chang ramble on and on and on about something it's because you've never been lucky enough to get stoned with him:) A vastly superior and longer-lasting high. Vastly superior and longer-lasting, as Mike likes to emphasize.
Sam laughs and then notices how hard he's laughing, and he laughs harder. Mike's lip twitches up into a smile. "It's hitting you, huh?"
"Is it?" Sam tilts his head all the way to one side to check, then all the way to the other side. Yeah, it's definitely hitting him. He doesn't know how to describe it, exactly, but tilting his head like this is so fun when the edibles start to kick in. Normally he doesn't feel any particular way at all about tilting his head. "It's funny because no one would believe you're the biggest stoner in the glee club."
"I'm not a stoner," Mike corrects him calmly. "I go weeks at a time without getting high, sometimes."
"You get high more often than Puck does."
"Maybe. I don't know how often Puck actually does, but I do sort of think he mostly likes to talk about it. He wants everyone to think he's a badass." Mike says this totally matter-of-factly, not like he's trying to insult Puck.
"But you're the real badass."
"It's not even about that, I just find it relaxing and enjoyable. The way I get to keep enjoying it is to make sure I don't take risks that could lead to anything getting back to my parents."
Mike has explained this before, why Tina and Sam are the only ones who can even know: he trusts Tina because she's his girlfriend and she understands what his family is like, and he trusts Sam because Sam would be in as much trouble if his parents found out as Mike would be if his did. One time Sam pointed out that by logic he should be able to bring Quinn into the loop because she's his girlfriend and she would get in as much trouble as Mike or Sam. He already understood, though—before Mike explained—that it's completely different because Quinn herself wouldn't approve.
"Dude!" Sam's just been hit with a sudden inspiration. "You know what I bet would be awesome? If instead of sitting normal, we sat, like, upside down! Like with our backs on the seat part of the couch and our legs over the back and our heads hanging down where our legs usually go!"
"Go for it." Mike leans over toward his arm rest to give Sam room to get turned around. Sam tries it, and it's even awesomer than he thought it would be.
"I'm starving. Are you starving?"
"Yes! I could really go for those Cool Ranch Doritos now!"
Mike tosses him one of the bags they picked up at the 7-Eleven and snuck down into the basement. "I really think you're making a mistake with those things," Mike tells him, as he tears open his own bag of chips. "Original Lay's potato chips are the perfect snack for the munchies."
Sam fake-snores and declares, "Boring!" He pops a Dorito in his mouth, determined that this time he's going to savor them one at a time and not just shove in a handful all at once. He chews and chews, much longer than necessary, just because he likes the crunching sound so much and the feel of the chip breaking apart between his teeth.
Oh, but you know what would feel even better than one chip breaking apart? A bunch, all at once!
(Damn it, no.)
He chews until the crunch is completely gone, swallows, and licks the Dorito dust off each finger. "God, these are so fucking good."
"But they're not perfect." Mike doesn't even try to eat his one at a time.
And Sam, knowing this is the type of thing Mike is probably dying to explain, asks, "Okay, what makes yours perfect?"
"Okay!" Mike rubs his hands together, like he's super excited to explain. "They're crunchy, and they're greasy, and they're salty."
Sam waits, because he was expecting more than that. "Okay? Cool Ranch Doritos are all those things too."
"First of all, they're not. Okay, crunchy and salty, yes, but nowhere near as greasy. More importantly, Lay's potato chips are only crunchy and greasy and salty. There's nothing superfluous, just potatoes and oil and salt. They don't pretend to be anything more than what they are, namely, perfect!"
Damn, Mike is actually kind of persuasive. "Let me try one?" Not that Sam's never had a plain potato chip before, he's just never noticed...Crunch. Crunch, crunch, crunch. "Oh my fucking god, Mike. You're right, they're perfect!"
Tina doesn't usually get high with them. It's not that she doesn't like to, it's just harder logistically since they need a big chunk of time on account of edibles being vastly longer-lasting than smoked weed. Sam can just spend the night—and Mike's parents don't ever bother them down in the soundproof basement—but the Changs don't allow Tina to sleep over. Sometimes Mike sleeps over at her place, telling his parents he's at a guy friend's, but on those nights Sam isn't invited.
But one day when there's no school for teacher training or something, Mike invites Sam and Tina both over. They show up promptly at 7:15 a.m., Sam carrying two bags of chips (because while Mike has convinced him of plain potato chips' perfection, it's not like he's ready to give up his cool ranch) and Tina with a bag of Reese's miniatures in one hand and a two-liter bottle of Hawaiian Punch in the other.
Sam's more of a salty snack guy than a sweet snack guy, but when the munchies set in he tries Tina's selections. The peanut butter cups, it turns out, are fucking brilliant. (The Hawaiian Punch is still gross, though, no matter how high he is.)
Tina thinks everything is hilarious when high: Sam has never had a better audience for his impressions...ones she's heard him do a hundred times already, ones he's trying out for the first time, it doesn't matter. But there's nothing she finds funnier than Family Fucking Feud. Every time one of the players gives a ridiculous answer, Tina loses it...but not as hard as she loses it at Steve Harvey's reactions to the players' ridiculous answers. Her laughing is totally infectious, and at one point when Steve is ribbing this one guy for, swear to god, ten minutes...okay, that's probably not possible, it's only a half-hour show and like half of it is taken up with commercials, but Sam's sense of time is kind of fucked up and it certainly feels like at least ten minutes...anyway, he and Tina both end up literally rolling on the floor laughing. They don't manage to catch their breath until the commercial break, when Tina rolls onto her back and looks up at Mike and says, "Come down here with us!"
Mike slides off the couch and sprawls out on the floor between them, letting Tina rest her head on his chest. He probably can't see the TV screen from that position—it looks like he's looking right at the ceiling—but it's the "fast money" round, which means it's mostly talking and not that much of Steve making funny faces, so he's not missing much. Mike says, "Do you ever wonder if the producers intentionally rig some fast money rounds to be harder to win than others so they won't have to pay out?" And then he's off on a monologue about the mathematics of Family Feud, and probably Tina follows it but Sam doesn't.
Then again, maybe Tina isn't following it, because she interrupts to say, "I shaved my legs before I came over this morning and they're super smooth now, you should feel them!"
The invitation is obviously only for Mike, so Sam turns his attention instead to the ad playing on the TV. It's for some prescription drug, and Sam's not even sure what it's supposed to do, but the ad itself is fucking insane, in an extremely entertaining way.
"My god, you're right, Tina," Mike says. "Your skin is really soft."
"I know, right!? Sam, come over here and feel!"
So Sam leans across Mike to touch Tina's leg. She and Mike are right: her skin is really, really smooth and soft. Sam has to be careful to only touch her shin, well below the knee. "Uh huh, nice," is all he trusts himself to say, and he pulls his hand back after what he's pretty sure is not an inappropriately long amount of time touching.
Somehow he doesn't make it all the way back to his spot on the other side of Mike; somehow he ends up resting his head on Mike's thigh. He'd feel bad about it, except Mike doesn't seem to mind, he just starts on another monologue. Sam has no idea what he's even monologuing about; all he's aware of, suddenly, is that Mike is stroking his hair and it makes him all shivery in a really awesome way.
Way too soon, Tina says, "We should make out!" And this time she really is only talking to Mike because she stands up and adds, "You'll be okay for a while, won't you, Sam?"
Sam rolls over to allow Mike to get up too. "Yeah, totally."
Mike gets up and gives him a sort of apologetic look. "You know where everything is, so...help yourself to whatever." And then the two of them disappear up the stairs.
They're gone for so long.
Okay, that might not be true. Family Feud is over and Sam has turned off the TV so he has no reference for how much time has passed. The point is, he spends what feels like a really long time lying on the floor singing to himself. That's pretty fun (though not as much fun as he bets Mike and Tina are having!) but it makes him thirsty after a while so he goes upstairs to get some of Tina's disgusting Hawaiian Punch from the fridge (which he for some reason finds more appealing than water, the only other option).
The Changs' rec room might be soundproof, but Mike's bedroom is not. From the kitchen, Sam can hear Mike's bed slamming against the wall or maybe the floor. He shouldn't stand there listening but he does. It gets louder and louder and then he also hears moaning and then he hears actual screaming and that's when he finally goes back down to the basement.
It all gets mixed up in his head, the softness of Tina's skin and the sound of her screaming, the tingling from Mike's hand in his hair and from his own on his dick, even somehow the salt of the chips and the red of the Hawaiian Punch, he can't separate one sensation from another, and he doesn't try, as he comes into a 7-Eleven napkin moments before hearing Mike and Tina's footsteps on the basement stairs.
"Dude, pass me the chips."
Mike stares into the Lay's bag for a long, long time (or not so long, who knows) before he answers, "They're gone."
"What!? Noooooo!"
"Sorry."
"This is why I shouldn't have let you talk me out of the Doritos. At least when we have two bags we don't run out."
"Well, I'd say we could go to the store and get some more, but my dad goes to that store sometimes and he knows the clerks and I don't think you can be cool."
Sam knows he couldn't be cool. Just thinking about how terribly he'd probably handle himself in public while stoned is enough to send him into a laughing fit. Around his laughter he makes his only argument: "But I'm still hungry!"
"Forget about your munchies, let's dance instead."
It suddenly occurs to Sam how weird it is that Mike has never suggested dancing before while high. Maybe he's afraid combining his two great loves—not counting Tina, of course, but she's a person not an activity, so it's not really the same—maybe he's afraid combining his two great loves will dilute the pleasure of each. Or maybe it's that weed relaxes him so much that he'd rather just sprawl out on the couch. Anyway, Sam's tempted to decline the dancing suggestion because Mike's such a great dancer and he's not, but Mike puts some Daft Punk on before he has a chance to answer at all and he sort of finds himself moving to it automatically.
"There you go!" Mike hops up off the couch and holds his hand down to help him up. "But don't just move your head, get up and really dance."
Sam gets up and really dances. Mike stands behind him and dances with his hands on Sam's hips, but not like he's teaching him or guiding him or anything, like they're just moving in sync together, effortlessly, and actually Sam has no idea if they're really in sync and he doesn't even care because it just feels so awesome, it's awesome the way the head tilt thing is awesome, but even more so because it's not just his head, it's his whole body, and the music, it's like he actually, literally feels the music coursing through him, and why has Mike been keeping this feeling a secret from him? They dance through three, four songs, Sam's not actually counting and it's so fucking fun.
"Has this made you forget about the chips?"
Sam freezes.
"Fuck, I just reminded you of the chips, didn't I?"
Sam nods slowly. Mike has just reminded him, and Sam totally wants chips again, but...not to eat, necessarily, and he's kind of having what he thinks is a really interesting revelation and he struggles with how to explain it, he's not as good as verbalizing his stoned realizations as Mike is, but he feels like it's important enough to try. "I do want chips, but...it doesn't have to actually be chips...I don't even think I'm hungry really, I think...I think I want...it's like, my mouth..."
Mike nods as if Sam just made any fucking sense.
Maybe he did make sense, maybe Mike totally understands. Sam decides to go on, to just come out and say what he's only just realized he wants. "I think I wanna lick you."
Mike nods again. As if Sam didn't just say something completely bizarre.
"How weird is that?" Sam asks.
Mike shrugs. "I guess I'd think it was a little weird if we weren't high."
Awesome, Mike doesn't think it's that weird! Sam leans in and it dawns on him just in time that saying it's not weird isn't the same as saying to go ahead, maybe Mike didn't even think he'd want to actually do it. Then again, maybe Mike did think that, and... "Can I?"
"Yeah, go for it."
Awesome! Sam leans in again, really slowly even though he's sure now that Mike doesn't mind, and licks the side of his neck, along where it meets his shoulder. Mike's neck tastes...warm, and Sam's not sure why he thinks that, he knows warm isn't a flavor, but the only other thing he can think of to describe it is...it's not even as salty as he expected, it just it tastes like Mike, which...duh. It's just weird that it never occurred to him before that like Mike would be a taste he'd really, really like.
Wait, is it weird that he really, really likes it, or is it weird that he didn't already know he would?
Who cares? The important question is: Will Mike let him do it again?
Mike does let him do it again! And again and again until he says Sam doesn't have to keep asking.
"But should I ask if I want to kiss you? On the mouth? But, like, still also licking, like inside your mouth? Like..." Sam knows there's a really common term for what he means, and he knows that the only term that popped into his head isn't it, but he trusts it's close enough for Mike to know what he's getting at: "...en français?"
Mike threads his fingers through the hair on the back of Sam's head, and Sam gets that shivery feeling again. And Mike is the one who kisses him first, open-mouthed, tongue right inside Sam's mouth, and it's weird how it's nothing like kissing Quinn and also exactly like kissing Quinn.
It's nothing like kissing Quinn because Mike tastes totally different than Quinn does. Like, his tongue doesn't taste like his neck, but they both taste like Mike and that taste is nothing like the taste of like Quinn, which Sam has never really thought about before but he knows, now, that it's totally different. It's nothing like kissing Quinn because Sam is super aware of how Mike's lips and tongue feel—warm and wet, of course, but what he's most aware of is the tension and the friction where their lips and tongues are in contact—in a way he's never been when he's made out with Quinn.
It's exactly like kissing Quinn in how he feels his face heat up, in how he just wants to press his whole body closer, in how he wants to start ripping off clothes. He gets so hard, just like he gets from kissing Quinn.
Quinn usually sends him away at this point to cool down. Mike...Mike pulls their shirts off, his own and then Sam's, and he maneuvers Sam onto the couch, on his back, and lies on top of him. They make out like that for hours (but probably not really) and there's so much skin against skin, not just their chests pressed together but Sam's hands on Mike's back and his neck, everywhere he can reach, even his butt over the pants...even his butt a little bit under the pants. And it's not skin on skin where their erections are dragging against each other but that's okay, any more and Sam would come in his pants...or, he wouldn't, because he wouldn't be wearing pants, but he probably shouldn't come anyway, Mike might think it was rude, and anyway then they'd have to stop.
Mike sucks on his neck and grinds down hard on him and it's almost too much, but it's actually when Mike runs his fingers through Sam's hair that Sam has to beg him, "Stop, I don't have a change of clothes!" Mike stops grinding, but he's still stroking Sam's hair and Sam is still so close and he...he thinks he actually whimpers and he whispers, "Please."
"You wanna come?"
Sam nods because he can't talk and also he doesn't care anymore what happens to his underwear and his jeans.
Mike rolls off him and wedges himself between Sam and the back of the couch. He opens Sam's jeans; Sam figures out what he's doing and lifts his hips enough that Mike can push his pants and underwear down just enough to be out of the way. He looks at Sam's dick and says, "That looks awesome, I'd love for you to fuck me sometime," but Sam can barely process that idea because Mike's hand is on him then, gripping him firmly, smearing pre-cum around with his thumb, moving his wrist with such precision that it's almost like he's done this before, not just to himself but to Sam, like he knows exactly how to get Sam off, and he does know, he must, because he touches the back of Sam's neck with his other hand, right at the hairline, and why that would be the thing that sets Sam off he has no idea, but it totally is. Sam opens his mouth as if to scream but he doesn't, in fact he holds his breath as his orgasm hits him. Mike's hand working his cock is the best thing ever, and as his cum shoots out, blast after blast splattering his chest, it's like...it's like an external explosion of jizz plus an even more intense internal explosion of...of Sam doesn't even know, just general goodness spreading throughout his body. He gasps and trembles and closes his eyes, which he feels like will help him hold onto the feeling even longer.
He's never had a makeout session with Quinn end this way.
And, fuck! Sam didn't even think about...he did think about Quinn, but he somehow didn't think about her as a reason he shouldn't be making out with and getting hand jobs from Mike Chang.
He doesn't get too hung up on this thought. What really seems more important now is that Mike probably wants to come too. He reaches out weakly—it's actually an effort, all his muscles are so fucking relaxed right now—and asks, "Can I...?"
"Next time, if you want, right now I really wanna come on your chest, can I?"
Sam is too dazed to do anything other than nod. Well, and to prop his head up on a couple throw pillows he picks up off the floor, because it's something he really wants to see.
Mike shimmies out of his pants and kneels over Sam naked. His dick is really...it's big, which Sam could already feel through their pants, but he wasn't expecting it to be as flushed as it is, and Sam's all relaxed and content but at the same time he kinda wishes he were touching it.
"You're gonna look so hot with my load all over you," Mike says, and fuck, Sam wants to be touching him again and he reaches up to grab his free hand. Mike jerks himself steadily, like he's not in any hurry, and maybe he's not but Sam is in suspense until Mike squeezes his fingers hard and goes Ah, fuck and a line of cum shoots out, and another, and one more, hot and wet where Sam's own cum has started to cool and dry.
They haven't talked about what happened last time.
Sam thought Mike would want to talk about it after because he likes to talk a lot when he's high, it's almost like the reason he's so quiet the rest of the time is to save it up. Mike did talk a lot after, just not about that, and after they were dressed again Sam couldn't think of a good way to bring it up.
This time, Sam plans to bring it up after they've eaten their gummies but before they've taken effect. But he finds it too awkward and anyway he decides the brief period of clear-headedness might be better spent asking Mike for geometry help.
Mike is drawing something on some graph paper and trying to explain...Sam's not sure what...when he trails off. "You're doing the head-tilt thing, it seems like that's all the math we're gonna get through tonight."
Sam laughs at how really, really right Mike is. He laughs and then he remembers and he says, "Dude, I wanted to ask you..."
Mike waits.
Sam waits too. He waits for the words to form sentences in his head, not sure if they actually will. Eventually he manages, "Does Tina know?"
"Does she know...that we made out?" Mike asks.
Sam, impressed that Mike figured out what he meant, just nods.
"Not unless you told her."
"Of course not."
"Yeah, I was being...What's the word, it's not rhetorical is it? Or is it? Anyway, there's no chance she would have not said anything to me if you'd told her." He waits a moment and asks, "Does Quinn?"
"Dude!" Sam laughs and laughs because obviously Mike is just being rhetorical again (or whatever the word is he was going for).
"Tina might find the idea hot. But if she knew we actually did, she'd be really hurt."
"I don't think Quinn would even think the idea was hot."
"No, probably—"
"Do you remember what you said? About wanting me to fuck you?"
Mike doesn't look shocked by the question or embarrassed or anything, he just looks like he's trying to remember. "No," he says finally, "not specifically. But I would like that, so if you say I said it out loud then I must have."
"Is that something you've ever...I mean, what makes you think you'd like it?"
"Yeah, I've done it before. It's good anyway, but it's amazing when you're high."
Sam is stunned. He's super aware of his own breathing. He's super aware of the weight of his tongue. He has so many questions and they're swirling in his head but there's one that keeps popping up the most, the one he eventually manages to get out: "With who?"
Mike doesn't answer.
Sam shouldn't push, but he does. "Puck?"
"No."
"Kurt?"
Mike doesn't answer right away, he's quiet a really long time before he says, "Are you jealous?"
Sam realizes he is, but he also realizes he can't exactly say so, the closest he can say is, "I just thought I was the only guy you get high with."
"The only guy currently, the only guy from glee. But...I've lived in this town my whole life. Do you think I don't know anyone outside the New Directions?"
It shouldn't be a new thought, Mike having friends outside of glee. Maybe Sam just didn't think of it because he hasn't lived in Lima his whole life and really doesn't have other friends here. But, whatever, the thought of Mike getting fucked by some anonymous guy he knew before glee doesn't bother him that much.
A lot of people are obsessed with Sam's mouth. Puck. Santana. Uh...probably others. Could that be why Sam is obsessed with his own mouth when he's high? Or is that a really stupid idea?
Probably it's a stupid idea. He doesn't get obsessed with how his own mouth looks or how big his own lips supposedly are. He gets obsessed with how things taste, how they feel in his mouth, how his mouth feels on and around things.
Mike's dick, for example.
It tastes better than Mike's neck, better than his mouth. Somehow even more like Mike than the other parts. And it fills Sam's mouth so awesomely, and when it slides in and out, all slippery with spit, it makes his lips wet and hot in a super satisfying way.
Sam moans, and Mike must be able to feel the vibrations in his cock because Sam can feel them—in Mike's cock—and then Mike moans too and Sam moans again. Mike gently holds Sam's head, and Sam has no idea why he likes that so much, like if it's a being high thing or if he just never noticed how awesome it feels for someone to touch your hair and your head, but anyway he does like it so much, so much that even if he didn't like the way Mike's cock tastes and feels in his mouth—which he totally does, but even if he didn't—he'd stay down here on his knees sucking Mike's cock for as long as Mike kept touching him like this. Even when Mike starts pushing into his mouth and making Sam gag a little, it's totally worth it. Sam tries to suppress the gagging just so Mike won't feel like he should stop.
Mike does stop, he holds still and goes Fuck! and Sam wants to beg him to please keep going until he feels Mike's dick jump even though his hips are still now and then there's jizz shooting forcefully into Sam's mouth, filling it, a little bit dribbling out the side and down onto his chin. It tastes so...unusual. Bizarre, kind of. Sam can't decide if he kind of hates it or kind of loves it. A mix of the two, he decides. It's not purely awesome like Mike's cock itself or any other actual part of Mike's body that he's tasted yet, but he's pretty sure he wants to taste it again. Sam swallows Mike's load, and it feels so thick and heavy going down his throat, he's pretty sure he loves that.
Mike gets down on the floor with him, he kneels in front of him and kisses him slow and deep. "That was amazing, I hope it was okay for you."
"It was awesome for me."
"I wanna blow you now, okay?" Mike reaches for Sam's fly, waits for him to nod, and helps him out of his pants. He strokes Sam's dick, probably not really for that long, and Sam knows it's not supposed to be the main event, but between how hard he already is and just thinking about Mike sucking his cock...he doesn't last long enough for Mike to actually suck his cock.
The next time, though. Later that same night, in fact.
They've gotten dressed again and watched Moulin Rouge, which Sam didn't think he'd be interested in but it's so completely batshit that he loves it, and they're still sitting there on the couch, kind of cuddled up together, and Mike runs his fingers through Sam's hair and Sam moans—like, loudly—and Mike kisses him and whispers in his ear, "Can I try again?" Sam's not even sure what Mike wants to try again, but of course he says yes because Mike always has the best ideas.
Mike gets him out of his pants and out of his shirt and lying on the floor on his back. Sam props his head up on his crossed arms, he wants to see, and even though all he can really see is the top of Mike's head as Mike works his way down, the sight kind of blows his mind. The sight is nothing, though, compared to the way it feels when Mike's mouth first makes contact with his balls, and holy fuck, why don't guys have each other's junk in their mouths literally all the time? Even if you didn't like doing it, for whatever reason, it would be worth it just for your turn to have it done to you. Mike's mouth and his hands are all over Sam's dick and it's the awesomest thing ever...until his dick is inside Mike's mouth and Mike is sucking on it and then that's the awesomest thing ever. Like, he expected it to be good but he had no idea!
It goes on and on, it somehow keeps getting better and better, and Sam's not sure how he managed to not come immediately, he's right on the verge, the whole time he's right there on the fucking verge, and yet somehow it seems sudden when the orgasm hits him, somehow it takes him by surprise, and he cries out and squeezes Mike's shoulder. He actually sees—just in his head, but it's super clear—he sees milky white cum gushing out of his dick and straight into Mike, and he sees Mike swallow it, and it's like he's a part of Mike now and Mike is a part of him.
Sam apparently fell asleep with his head on Mike's lap while they were watching Adventure Time; it's still on, but it's a totally different episode now. Sam sits up and Mike pauses the show. "Sorry, did the TV wake you?"
"I think what woke me is I have to pee."
Sam doesn't know what time it is and he doesn't bother to check, but he knows it must be pretty late because his high is wearing off. He rejoins Mike on the couch after his trip to the bathroom, and even though he doesn't have the excuse any more of being super stoned, he sits really close to Mike and leans against him. Mike rests his hand on Sam's knee.
"Do you feel bad because of Tina?" Sam asks suddenly.
"What did Tina do?"
"No, I mean, because of us..."
"Oh, the making out?"
"Yeah, the making out." That's usually what they still refer to it as, when they refer to it at all.
"Not really. Do you? Because of Quinn?"
"Like. It's more like I feel like I should feel bad than like I actually feel bad," Sam says, though it's not completely true. It's true right now, it's true when he's with Mike. When he's by himself, though, or especially when he's with Quinn, then he does feel bad.
"Why should you though?"
It's not a question Sam expected. "Uh, for the obvious reason?...Why do you not?"
"Because Tina is one part of my life, and you're a different part. Two parts of my life that don't have to intersect."
"But Tina and I interact all the time! In school, in glee...that one time the three of us got high together..."
"I admit it's not a perfect analogy, not that it's an analogy exactly, but...I mean, it's not like we had a threesome."
Sam's actually pretty sure that Mike his missing his point, but then again Mike is smarter than he is so maybe he's missing Mike's. And anyway, now Sam has to ask, "Would you want to have a threesome?"
"I'm pretty sure I couldn't talk Tina into it. Would you want to? With me and Quinn?"
"Yeah, right! I can't even talk Quinn into a twosome...Not that I've been trying to, I told her once I'd never pressure her, so..."
"And you're a good guy so you don't."
"Mmm." Sam knows he's not actually that good a guy.
"Do you think she knows it's something you'd still like if she ever wanted to?"
"A normal twosome, you mean? I assume so. She must, right?"
"Probably. She probably assumes it's something all guys want, but...on the other hand it's probably not safe to assume stuff."
"I guess."
"Speaking of not wanting to pressure and not wanting to assume...If you ever do want to do more, with me I mean, I'm still interested."
Sam actually wasn't sure about that. Mike only brought it up once or twice, kind of early on, and Sam said he didn't want to go all the way and Mike let it drop. And honestly it's not that Sam doesn't want to, or even that he didn't want to at the time, it's that...it would be his first time, and while he can sort of rationalize making out with Mike, he doesn't think he could rationalize losing his virginity with someone he's cheating on his girlfriend with, even if she lost hers by cheating on her (then-)boyfriend. Sam has never tried to explain this to Mike because...usually when they're alone together he's pretty high, and he's bad with words when he's high, even worse than usual. That's not really the problem now, but still he doesn't say any more than, "Thanks, that's good to know."
LCD Soundsystem is awesome, these guys must have written and performed all their music while high. Sam is super into the song they're listening to until Mike turns it off suddenly, which sucks. "Hey, what are you—"
"It's my mom," Mike explains, holding up his phone.
Sam literally covers his mouth with both hands to keep from making any incriminating noise in the background. He's so in awe of how Mike can be totally cool while talking to his parents high. One time Sam's mom called him here and Sam freaked out and had to practice with Mike for ten minutes before calling her back. He told her that he didn't answer right away because he was in the bathroom, and then he cut the conversation short by claiming he had to go again. It was a risky strategy that almost ended with his mom coming to pick him up because he was "sick" and only didn't end that way because Mike promised to drive him home himself if he wasn't feeling better soon.
Mike's call with his mom seems really short, and Sam wonders if it's actually short or if time can seem to go by quicker and not just slower like it usually does. But no, that doesn't seem likely, at least in this case, because Mike didn't really say anything except a couple yes's and an okay or two. Mike slides his phone back in his pocket and Sam asks if everything's okay.
"Everything is awesome. They're going to spend the night in Columbus."
And it is so fucking awesome to not be confined to the basement all night.
They cook actual food in the kitchen—Mike makes a fucking quiche—and it turns out that it's not just junk food that tastes awesome while high. Sam didn't even know he liked quiche.
They listen to LCD Soundsystem on Mike's dad's stereo in the living room, and the sound is so much better than on the tiny little speakers in the basement. Sam looks through Mr. Chang's records, careful not to touch anything but the covers, and says, "It seems like a waste to have such an awesome sound system—ha ha, I said sound system! Like the band! Uh...what was I saying?"
"Something about it being a waste?"
"Oh right! Such a waste when all he seems to listen to is classical."
And then Mike puts on his dad's vinyl of the 1812 Overture and it's actually brilliant. There are fucking cannons in it! Like, even Sam has heard the 1812 Overture before, but he never really listened before, he never bothered to marvel about the fucking cannons before.
They take a shower together. The water gets really hot and the room quickly fills with steam. The water pressure is so strong that when they get under it it's like getting a massage, and Mike washes Sam's back and that's even more like getting a massage, but...slippery. He gets Sam's back all soapy and then lightly scratches down, down onto his ass, and Sam shivers despite the heat. Mike reaches around to wash Sam's chest, and Sam barely feels his hands anymore, that is, he barely notices them, what he notices is Mike's hard dick pressed up against his ass. It's on the side, it's not like Mike is trying to fuck him, but...but it does make Sam feel like he'd like for Mike to fuck him.
They spend a long time in the shower (and Sam knows it's actually a long time because his fingers get pruney), making out under the water and washing each other's bodies with soap that has the whole bathroom smelling like citrus. Sam is lathering up Mike's junk, again, when Mike mouths at his neck and whines, "Sam, please!" Sam wraps his soapy fingers around him and finishes him off, transfixed by the sight of his cum mingling with the soap suds. Mike drops to his knees when he's done, maybe Sam made him actually weak at the knees, but anyway Sam is weak at the knees after Mike sucks him off, and he leans heavily against the wall. "You wanna trade places with me?" Mike asks.
Mike stands and Sam kneels. Mike's not hard again yet, which isn't surprising: they're both resilient, but not insanely resilient. Sam gives him some little licks; Mike puts his hands on his shoulders and says, "Sam, hold on." Sam looks up at him, not sure what he's done wrong. Mike says, "You're amazing at that, but it's not actually what I meant. I thought you might like it if I wash your hair."
"Oh my god, yes."
And, god, Mike's fingers on his scalp, so strong and so relaxing, between that and the warm, herbal scent of the shampoo, not to mention having just come, Sam thinks he might just rest his head against Mike's hip and fall asleep despite the water rushing over him and the hard shower floor under his knees.
They dry each other off with big, fluffy, white towels and go straight to Mike's bed. Sam's been in Mike's room before but never in his bed, he's never even seen it unmade, and he's surprised by the sheets. For some reason he thought they'd be sort of stiff, like brand new maybe, but they're slightly worn, soft, soft flannel. He and Mike don't even make out again, at least not much, they mostly just lie between the sheets, stretched out because Mike's bed is so much roomier than the basement couch, so much more comfortable than the basement floor. Mike scoots closer and rests his head on Sam's chest, and for once he falls asleep first. Sam wraps an arm around him and kisses his forehead before he drifts off too.
During a commercial break in Martha & Snoop's Potluck Dinner Party (a fucking genius show, by the way), Sam blurts out, "Quinn dumped me." It's a sentence he's been thinking for...god, five minutes? an hour? who knows...but it's only just now coming out.
Mike pauses the show, which reminds Sam that it's recorded and they could totally be skipping the commercials, but then again why would they, the commercials are almost as insane as the show itself. Mike asks, "Are you okay?"
Sam has to think about it. He's pretty sure he's okay. It's more a relief than anything, he can stop feeling so guilty about making out with Mike. He doesn't even miss spending time with Quinn, not really, because they weren't doing that too much anyway. He's pretty sure that he was avoiding her on purpose because he wanted her to break up with him, that the main reason he didn't just break up with her was it didn't seem fair when he was the one doing something wrong. He feels like explaining this to Mike, but all he manages is, "Uh huh."
"What happened?"
"I...we..." Sam's having an even harder time than usual forcing his thoughts into anything expressible. "I hadn't taken her out on a date in a long time," he eventually gets out, but that's not even it. It's true and maybe it's part of what happened, but it's not what Quinn said when she dumped him. What she said was, I know you're gay. And Sam denied it of course, he said he was really into her and her boobs and everything (though probably he shouldn't have actually mentioned her boobs) and Quinn held up her hand to stop him and said, Fine, maybe you're bi, whatever. But I know who you like, I see the way you look at him all the time, especially when he dances. He's a good-looking guy, I don't blame you, but...you know Mike is straight, right? Sam wants to tell Mike this, even though he's pretty sure it's not a good idea. Lucky for him, he can't figure out how to say it anyway.
Mike gives him a side hug, which turns into rubbing his back, which turns into rubbing his back under the t-shirt. Sam melts, he feels like he's literally melting, and he rests his head on Mike's shoulder. He kind of forgets what Mike is even comforting him about until Mike says, "You can get her back, I bet. I'll help you plan an epic date..."
Sam sighs, more from the back rub than from the conversation. "It's okay. She was right."
Mike breaks their kiss and asks one more time, "Are you sure you want to?"
"Totally sure." Sam's been thinking about practically nothing else since Quinn broke up with him. He thought about it before then too, it just didn't seem like something he could seriously consider then.
"Awesome." Mike grabs the old contact lens solution bottle (which is what he keeps his lube in), takes Sam's right hand, and squirts a big glob of goo on his first two fingers.
"So I just...put them in?"
"Coat the outside first. Then slowly, just one to start."
Sam reaches around and circles his fingers around the rim of Mike's hole. It's so crinkly and bumpy under his fingers—his own must be the same, though he's never noticed particularly—and it feels weird in an awesome way and he keeps circling around and around until Mike prompts him to put some more lube on his fingers and put one inside. Mike gasps when it's in and Sam gasps too because...because a part of him is actually inside Mike's ass and it's just his finger but soon it's going to be his dick! Mike starts mouthing at his shoulder and it takes Sam longer than it probably should to think to ask if he's okay. "Yeah," Mike gasps, "just...go slow."
Sam goes so slow after that, he waits for Mike to tell him when to go deeper, when to add another finger...everything. It seems to take so long but Sam knows better by now than to trust his sense of time, and anyway he loves the little moans and gasps Mike's making the whole time. Even better, Mike is moving around in his lap, not like intentionally grinding, as far as Sam knows, but their cocks do touch quite a bit.
"I wanna ride you, okay?" Mike says after...you know, however long.
"Oh. Uh..."
"Are you having second thoughts?"
"No! It's just..." It's just that Sam has thought a lot about what his first time would be like, and he always pictured it with a girl who he was dating, and he's more than happy to abandon the girl part, less happy to abandon the dating part, but dating Mike isn't really an option. But he's been picturing his first time with Mike in some ways the same as his earlier idea of a first time with a hypothetical girlfriend, namely, with himself on top. He just doesn't know how to put this into words.
"It's okay if you are."
"I'm not! I just thought...you shouldn't have to do all the work."
"It's not exactly work..." Mike starts, but then it seems to dawn on him what Sam is trying to say (because he's a genius), and he adds, "But if you'd rather?"
They end up with Mike on his back, one leg over the back of the couch, Sam half on, half off the couch between his legs. It feels kind of awkward and uncomfortable until Sam presses the tip of his cock inside Mike's hole and then he forgets about everything else, the only thing that matters is that holy fuck, he's not a virgin anymore. Mike reminds him to start out slowly, totally unnecessarily: every little bit further that Sam pushes in feels so amazing, there's no way he'd want to rush through this. A little at a time he pushes all the way in, until his entire dick is inside, and then he just holds still for a minute, marveling at the fact that Mike took all of it.
"Fuck," Mike mutters, more to himself than to Sam, it sounds like.
"Are you okay?" Mike looks like he's okay, but maybe Sam just thinks that because it's what he wants to think.
"Yeah, it was a good fuck. I can feel your dick throbbing. Like, I can feel your blood pulsing."
"Fuck."
Mike tells him he doesn't have to be as cautious anymore, and even though it wasn't the only reason he was going slow, he's glad he doesn't have to anymore. He gradually increases the speed and the force of his thrusts until he pulls most of the way out and buries himself again in one quick motion and Mike yelps, "Fuck!
"Sorry!"
"No, no, keep...right there, just like that!" It's such a relief to hear Mike say that, because Sam never wants to do anything else ever again. Mike keeps moaning and yelping, and even though Sam has gotten used to hearing him chatty he's never heard him this loud, and honestly it's the best sound ever, that and their skin slapping together, and Mike all spread out for him, face all flushed, dick all hard and needy-looking, that's the best sight ever, and obviously, obviously Mike's tight, warm channel yielding to his cock is the best feeling ever, like literally it has to be the best feeling in the entire world. At least that's what Sam thinks until Mike pulls the throw pillow out from under his head and screams into it, until he fists his own dick and seconds later erupts onto his own abs, until his muscles convulse around Sam's dick, and then that's the best feeling in the world...until Sam erupts too, his dick surging forward as his cum coats Mike's insides and total euphoria spreads throughout his body.
Sam would like to stay inside Mike all night, except he's noticing that his knees kind of hurt. He pulls out and sort of lets himself collapse on the floor, flat on his back, and he persuades Mike to lie on top of him. He rubs Mike's back because he always loves it when Mike does that to him, and he also rubs Mike's ass because...you know, not like he's exactly horny again so soon, he's not hard again or anything, but he just really, really likes Mike's ass, especially now that he's fucked it. He feels a little bit of his own cum that's dribbled out and he wishes he could see it, he bets it's shiny, and he could ask Mike to get off him so he can look, but he's too comfortable. Next time he'll look.
Mike is face down, ass up in the middle of his bed, taking Sam's cock and going, "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!" He sounds just like he does when he's about to come. Except, Sam's not sure because...because both his hands are holding Mike's hips, and both of Mike's are squeezing the fuck out of his pillow. "Mike, are you gonna...?"
"I know...fuck, I know you said you wanted to suck me, but...but fuck, I..."
And yeah, Sam loves to suck Mike and loves for him to come in his mouth, but how cool would it be if he can actually make Mike come just from fucking him? "Go ahead and come," he says as he tries to hit that spot way inside he knows Mike likes more than anything, again and again. "Come on, come, baby."
And Mike does, without touching himself, not as soon as Sam tells him to but close enough, squeezing all around Sam's dick, hips moving back as if to push Sam deeper into himself, forward as if to fuck the air beneath himself. He screams and shakes, screams and shakes for so long, Sam has completely unloaded inside his ass by the time he goes quiet and his muscles relax.
Sam pulls out, and he needs to lie down, but he also never gets tired of seeing his cum leak out of Mike, leaving a shiny trail onto his thigh. "God, that's hot," he says, wishing he could take a picture but knowing better than to even ask. He stares long enough to memorize the sight and then rubs it into Mike's skin before he collapses face down next to Mike.
Mike rolls onto his back and stretches out his arms and legs, one of each ending up on top of Sam, and says, "It's so nice being able to do this in the bed. Last time you took me in that position on the basement floor I ended up with rug burns on my knees."
"I'm sorry!"
"No big deal. I just had to avoid getting naked with Tina for a couple days."
"Mmm." Sam doesn't want to talk about Tina, or think about her, really. He rolls over, doing his best not to push Mike's arm and leg off himself, and rests his head on Mike's chest. The sound of Mike's heart beating is so soothing, and then Mike starts to stroke his hair and the back of his neck and Sam's just so content.
Sam would be happy to stay just like this forever, but eventually Mike says that his throat hurts and he has to get up and get some water. Sam's a little thirsty too, but he's more comfy than he is thirsty, and he rolls onto his side and waits for Mike to come back, cuddle up behind him and hold him big spoon style. Sam's still relaxed and content, but he's also got that slightly frustrating thing going on where he can't quite get out the words swirling in his head. He does what he sometimes does in these situations, he starts with a statement that isn't exactly the point but that sort of led him there, mentally: "Your throat was sore because...you scream a lot when I fuck you."
"Uh huh, but not because it hurts. I was actually reading this thing about why it's advantageous, from an evolutionary perspective, for people to be loud during sex, like vocal, and by people the study actually looked at women...or I mean, they found it was mostly the women, but of course they were only looking at straight couples, but then this other study did look at same-sex couples..." And Sam doesn't really follow anything else that Mike says about this study or these two studies or whatever, but he likes listening to Mike when he finds something so interesting and just talks and talks and talks.
While he's enjoying the act of Mike talking, if not the actual content of what he's saying, Sam is still trying in the back of his mind to work out how to say what he wants to. He thinks he's got it, he thinks he can even make it relevant to the very first part of Mike's monologue, and when Mike trails off and doesn't sound like he's going to trail back on, Sam tries again: "No, I know the screams are because you like it. And I've been thinking...I want to try it." There! That wasn't actually hard, and Sam's pretty sure it even made sense!
Or maybe it didn't make sense somehow, because Mike stops stroking his chest and asks, "You want to try...what?"
Fuck, okay, how to be clearer? "You know...getting fucked. By you. If you want to."
"Are you kidding? I would love to!" Mike kisses the back of Sam's neck and runs his hands over his chest, his abs, his hips. "I thought you wanted to go to sleep, though. Don't you have to get up in the morning to go home and babysit?"
"Right, yeah, but your parents are gone for the whole weekend, right? So I thought when I come back tomorrow..."
"Oh. But...Tina's coming over tomorrow night."
Oh. Oh, fuck, Sam's such an idiot. Of course Tina's...but, wait. "I thought you said she had to go to her grandparents' this weekend."
"Just tonight."
Fuck! "But then why...you asked if I thought we should order pizza tonight and grill burgers tomorrow night or grill burgers tonight and order pizza tomorrow."
"You're invited tomorrow too!" Mike puts his chin on Sam's shoulder and brushes the hair from his forehead. "You have to be cool, though, about...I mean, obviously we can't make out or anything with Tina here."
Sam closes his eyes and tries to concentrate on the shivers he still gets when Mike touches his hair. "Obviously," he mutters.
"Can you be cool? Do you think?"
Sam tries to imagine what it would be like, getting high with Mike and Tina both tomorrow. It was fun that one time, but that was before he started making out with Mike, before he fell in...
Fuck.
It should be fun anyway, eating chips, watching Family Feud or whatever else Tina finds hilarious, dancing (though without touching), whatever, and it's not like it's even possible to be sad when you're high. Or at least that's what Sam's always kind of thought, but...but suddenly he thinks he's sad now. He's sure of it, in fact, and what the hell, it's not like the weed has worn off yet, he's still...
Is he still high? He doesn't feel high anymore. He feels stoned still, and he's never really thought of there being a difference between high and stoned, he's always used the two interchangeably, but it seems to him now like high is happy and stoned is sort of...sluggish and dull, and maybe happy too, but not necessarily, you can be stoned without being happy, and that's how he feels now.
"Sam?"
And Sam pictures himself getting stoned with Mike and Tina tomorrow, spending the whole night sluggish and dull while he has to watch them making out, while he has to hear them fucking, and he says, "It's probably safer if I let you two have the place to yourselves."
"Okay. But next time you come over, if you still want to. Unless...I mean, if you don't care how much sleep you get tonight..."
No, Sam doesn't feel like it now, he just wishes he could go back to way he felt before he even asked, but that feels so long ago. "The kids are a handful even when I've had plenty of sleep, so...but, yeah, next time sound good."
"Cool. I think you'll really like it."
Sam thinks he will too, some time when he's high again, when he's not thinking about...you know. "Baby?" Sam asks, suddenly aware that he doesn't really have the right to call Mike that and just hoping Mike will let him get away with it anyway. "Do you mind...will you hold me until I fall asleep?"
Mike tangles his legs with Sam's and wraps his arm tightly around his chest. "Good night, baby."