The After Party
Title: The After Party
Author: Amber
Rating: not porn
Ship: Sartie
This will probably be continued with a higher rating but I'm too tired right now sorreh.
It’s only been an hour since Sam and Artie arrived at the after-prom party, but both of them are already well on their way to being incredibly drunk. Neither are really sure who’s house they’re at - Puck had driven them here, Mike in the passenger seat, and they had definitely said a name but Artie and Sam were too drunk on each other without a drop of alcohol in their system to pay attention - but there has to be at least a hundred teenagers milling about (and most of them probably don’t know whose house they’re at, either).
The boys are out on the back lawn, a good distance away from the pool where Puck is definitely skinny dipping. Artie has a red solo cup in his right hand and his left is twisted in the material of Sam’s shirt, lightly grazing the hot skin underneath. Sam is sitting in Artie’s lap, his own cup in hand, with his back pressed to Artie’s chest and his head lolled back on Artie’s shoulder.
They’re best friends. They’re best friends and they’re maybe just a little bit in love with each other.
But Sam is going back to Kentucky.
And Artie is staying in Lima to finish high school.
And they both know this. They’ve known this since the beginning of the year when they had their first kiss, both drunk off their asses, murmuring false illusions of forever into each other’s skin. They’ve known since the morning after their first kiss, when they woke up in the same bed, Sam wrapped around Artie and both fully clothed but with startlingly clear memories of what had happened the night before. And it was with that knowledge that they decided friendship would be easier.
There would be no coming out in a homophobic town. There would be no bullying (at least not more than they already got).
There would be no them.
But they both decided on that morning that not having something was better than having it and then losing it.
(Neither of them truly believed that. They were both just scared.)
And so they made their way through the school year, with no more drunken kisses and no more false illusions but still a lot of love. They were never apart throughout the entire year. Sam became a regular at Artie’s house and Artie became a regular at the Hummel-Hudson house.
No one around them thought twice about it.
Sam and Artie thought twice and three times and four and five and six and never stopped thinking about it, really.
And no one noticed the way their hands would brush and pause, as if they wanted to savor every single second of contact. No one noticed the way Sam would watch his best friend, sad green eyes filled with longing. No one noticed the way Artie would get goose bumps when Sam hugged him (and they didn’t notice how long their hugs lasted).
And it went on that way - desperately quiet and sad but happy too - for months and months. No one took note of it.
That was why no one gave them a second glance at the party. Sam started to curl into Artie, turning his head so that his nose brushed against Artie’s neck and his legs hung over the side of the wheelchair. Artie breathed in at the rush of hot air that hit his neck.
And then Sam, drunk and not thinking, pressed a light kiss to the pale skin in front of him. And then he pressed another, and another, and then he bit, teeth scraping the sensitive flesh. Artie groaned. Sam’s tongue darted out and soothed the bite and then he noticed Artie’s hand clenching his shirt and he pulled back.
He looked into Artie’s eyes, hidden behind thick rims, but so obviously filled with lust that it made Sam’s stomach twist (in a very good way).
And then Artie asked, “Sam, what are you doing?”
“I dunno,” was all Sam could say, before his eyes traveled down Artie’s face before stopping on his pink lips. “But I wanna kiss you so, so bad right now.”
And Artie was drunk - on alcohol and on Sam - so he nodded, ignoring the people around. He threw his cup on the ground beside them carelessly and Sam followed suit before his hands reached around the back of Artie’s neck and pulled him closer. He stopped, their lips so close and their breaths mingling, and sighed out I love you before attaching his lips to his best friend’s.