Fic: First Times - Drake 1/1 (Drake & Josh, R, Drake/Various)
Title: First Times - Drake
Chapter: 1/1
Series: Drake and Josh
Author: dancinbutterfly
Pairing: Drake/OCs, Drake/Various Canon charactres, Drake/Josh
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Slash, Het, graphic sex
Word count: 4,554
Disclaimer: I don't own Drake & Josh or Drake or Josh. *sigh* I dont own Carly or Trevor or any canon characters.
A/N: This started as a Five Things fic but there were more than five first times for Drake so I wrote this instead.
Dedications: This is Marla who made a really generous contribution to the really fantastic charity fire_fic in exchange for D/J fic from me. This isnt the fic she asked for but it's something that should help hold her over till I can.
Beta: I wrote this in one night so it's not beta'd. Sorry!
Feedback: Pretty please?
Summary: There have been many first times in Drake Parker's life.
First Times: Drake
The firs time Drake ever kissed someone he was all of five years old.
Mary Johnson was just so pretty in her red dress, laughing on the see-saw. Drake waited until her side came down and planted a kiss on her cheek. Her skin as soft and warm from the sun and she smelled good, like cookies.
Mary burst into tears, hopped off the see-saw and sent the black haired boy on the other side of the seesaw to the ground with a thump.
Drake watched her go sobbing to her mommy and just shrugged. He’d do better next time.
~*~*~
The first time Drake gets kissed he’s about nine. He was still in elementary school but he hadn’t decided to stop paying attention to what was being taught yet.
It was just before Christmas and his teacher, whose face and name he didn’t remember, had decided it would be educational to teach them about the history of all the Christmas traditions. Drake didn’t care about most of it but he caught the bit about mistletoe.
Especially after Debbie Mercer caught Drake, unawares, in a doorway. She kissed him briefly on the lips then smiled as he blinked at her.
“What?”
She pointed up. “Mistletoe, dumdum.”
And there, above him, was a shiny green sprig with red berries on it. A tree that got you kissed? Genius. He grinned.
“Oh. Yeah.”
She kissed him again then skipped off to her desk.
Drake stood in that doorway as often as he could after that and by the time winter vacation rolled around, he’d been kissed by every girl in his class.
~*~*~
The first time Drake kissed a boy he was eleven and in the messy throws of the start of puberty.
He was in Trevor’s basement at the time and they were watching the porn that Trevor had stolen from Trevor’s older brother. It was two women with big, awkward looking boobs rolling around on the grass of a football field.
Drake had barely been able to understand what they were doing. He didn’t really need to. They were moaning and they were naked and he was hard. But that as starting to get less strange and more familiar.
Only this time he noticed that Trevor was too.
It made him feel weird, deep in the pit of his stomach. Like maybe that was bad. Or scarier still, like maybe that wasn’t bad.
They were seated next to each other on the ratty couch, fidgeting and shifting when Drake decided to just do it. If two girls could kiss, and kissing they were, right in front of him on the TV, why not two boys? And he really wanted to be kissing someone right then.
So he leaned over and planted one on Trevor’s shocked lips.
“Dude?” Trevor asked, bewildered, when Drake pulled away.
Drake shrugged. “Sorry. Seemed like…I should. I don’t know.”
Trevor blushed and laughed. “It’s cool.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Drake grinned. “So can we do it some more?”
Trevor grinned back. “Yeah.”
It was stuff like this that made Trevor Drake’s best friend, Drake decided. And then he kissed Trevor again.
~*~*~
The first time Drake ever had a real, honest-to-god crush he was twelve years old and so in lust his skin crawled. In lust and scared out of his fucking mind.
He was petrified because this was unlike anything Drake had experienced before. He was used to the middle school girls who giggled and gossiped and hooked up and broke up with various boys every two days or so.
This was different. This was disturbing. This got into his head and set up shop and ten years later the images from his most intense wet dreams about his crush were still in his spank bank.
The object of his obsession was tall, taller than him by a good foot. Dirty-blonde hair fell gracefully over bright gray eyes. And his name was Danny Keller.
He was one of Drake’s girlfriends’ older brothers and just the similarity Christie Keller had shared with her sixteen-year-old brother was enough to set Drake off like a rocket.
Danny was a cool older sibling, like Drake imagined he’d be to Megan if she weren’t such a little brat. He hung out with his younger sister and, by proxy, with Drake and it was all Drake could do during those long afternoons to keep from jumping across the couch and crawling up Danny’s tall frame.
Needless to say, Christie was one of the longest girlfriends he’d ever managed to keep.
Then Danny had started dating a gorgeous girl with long brown hair and mile-long legs and Drake had been devastated. So much so that he’d broken up with Christie.
Danny and Christie moved away six months later. But the dreams didn’t leave for another year.
~*~*~
The first time Drake had sex he was fourteen. His mom still didn’t know and that was the way he damn well intended to keep it.
It was with a girl named Marla, an 11th grader who had beautiful, high breasts and wore lipstick the color of a red Blowpop. He’d met her at a party Trevor’s older brother threw when Trevor’s parents were out of town and she’d taken a liking to him.
Well, she’d been completely shit-faced drunk and she’d thought he was someone named Stephen. Drake was a little high(he and Trevor had discovered pot a few months earlier) and when she took off his belt and started kissing the side of his neck he decided that he could roll with it and be Stephen for a night.
As it turned out, Marla really really liked Stephen. So much so that she had dragged Drake up to Trevor’s bedroom and pushed him down on the bed. She’d moaned and sighed and ground against him and then she took off her top and Drake’s brain had shorted out.
Where she produced the condom from, Drake had no idea and he didn’t ask. He just held on to her hips and watched as she slowly sank down on top of him. She was hot and soft and did he mention hot? God, it was better than anything Drake had felt in his entire life and the only reason he didn’t lose it right then was that she groaned out Stephen’s name. It brought him sharply back down to earth, which wasn’t a bad thing because she started moving.
She whimpered in the back of her throat and panted and ran her fingernails down the front of his t-shirt (which she had neglected to take off). She rotated her hips with her head throw back and her breasts thrust out and well…he’d had to touch them. He didn’t really see any other option but to cup one of them the palm of his hand as she rode him.
“Stephen, oh, god, Stephen, please, please, Stephen. Ugh!” She cried and then she shook and trembled around him. She slammed herself down and Drake suddenly went blind with pleasure. He was saying things, though he didn’t know what later, and choking and drowning and dying because it was just too good to live through.
Then it was over. And he was asleep. When he woke up, Trevor was sitting in his beanbag chair on the floor, grinning at Drake who still lay, naked from the waist down save for a thin shirt and covered from the waist up in his t-shirt. But Marla was gone.
“You,” Trevor said reverently, eying the used condom in the trashcan beside his bed, “are the man.”
Drake shrugged and fell back onto Trevor’s pillows with a thud.
~*~*~
The first time Drake had sex with a guy he was fifteen and he hadn’t really been expecting it.
That first time was just a blowjob. Admittedly, it was something that he hadn’t been planning on doing but some people were hard to say no to.
Ricky Palladino was repeating junior who was a mere two weeks away from turning eighteen and he had a motorcycle. It was sleek and beautiful and purred like a kitten when he revved the engine and Drake had fallen in love with it at first sight.
Not that Ricky was bad either. He was a little taller than Drake, about Josh’s height, with messy brown hair that he sometimes covered with a black skull and crossbones bandana and blue eyes that he kept behind sunglasses 99.9% of the time.
But Drake wasn’t really afraid of him. In awe of him? Yes. But afraid of him? Not particularly. And even if he were, he loved Ricky’s bike more than he could ever have been scared of the budding delinquent.
At least until the day he finally approached him about giving him a ride on that big, purring machine.
Ricky had studied him from behind his shades for a long time. They were in the parking lot of the Premiere and Drake had chosen asking about the bike over going on his ten o’clock date.
“What are you going to give me?” Ricky asked as reached in to his pocket and brought out a pack of Winstons.
Drake watched as the older boy removed a cigarette from the pack with his lips. He wondered how the hell anyone could be that cool as Ricky flicked open his Zippo and lit it.
“What do you want?” Drake asked, taking a cigarette from the pack when it was offered. He didn’t particularly like to smoke but he’d done it enough times to do so without embarrassing himself.
Ricky took a long drag and blew gray smoke out through his nose. “A ride for a ride.”
Drake nodded because that sounded more than fair and he could always make room for the guy in Walter’s car. Ricky took a few more puffs and flicked his cigarette away, climbing gracefully on his bike. Drake just watched him.
Ricky pulled on a heavy black helmet then turned to look at Drake. “You coming?”
Drake nodded again and Ricky produced a second helmet from beneath the bitch seat. Then Drake slid on behind him, carefully rested his hands on his own legs, and let the thrumming of the engine sing up his thighs.
By the time they got where they were going - the beach - Drake had his arms wrapped tightly around Ricky’s waist. The guy liked to take sharp curves at high speeds and he’d acted on instinct.
They came to a stop on a dark stretch of road next that was less than a two minute walk from the Pacific. Drake could smell the salt air and hear the waves and if he looked up he could see more stars than he could have dreamed of.
He followed Ricky off the road and out into the sand. He didn’t pull away when Ricky caught him but the front of his shirt and hauled him in for a hot kiss.
He didn’t kiss guys often. He only made out with Trevor when they both high(which was less often now that he was hanging out with Josh all the time) and he didn’t really count that. That was just a thing. Their thing. Kissing Trevor was kind of like beating off: easy, comfortable, and familiar.
Kissing Ricky was like jumping out of a plane. It was like falling through the sky at a hundred miles per hour and gaining speed with every second. He was hard where his girlfriends were soft, powerful where they were submissive.
And then he sent Drake to his knees in the sand.
“A ride for a ride,” Ricky hissed. He unzipped his jeans and took himself out with one hand while the other tangled in the hair at the back of Drake’s head.
“I’ve never done this before,” Drake said numbly, staring at Ricky’s dick, hard and alien in the moonlight.
“It’s not hard.” Ricky said mildly. “Watch your teeth, keep your mouth wet and suck. If you do something wrong, I’ll let you know.”
Drake swallowed hard and licked his lips. He’d thought about this. Not with Ricky, but ever since his crush on Danny Keller, he had the idea of doing something like this in the back of his mind.
And really, how hard could it be?
He’d gotten a hundred blowjobs from girls since he started dating. He knew what he liked. It made sense that Ricky would like the same thing.
Ricky was hard and smooth and dry. It was strange because Drake was used to the way girls feel, wet and slick and soft.
He licked the head experimentally and tasted sweat and something else that was a little bitter but not completely bad. He licked again, starting at the base and going all the way to the tip like it was a popsicle because Karen Farrow had done that to him when they were dating and his brain had nearly exploded.
Ricky exhaled loudly and pulled hard on his hair, thrusting forward with his hips demandingly. He prodded at Drake’s lips and hissed, “Just fucking suck me, Parker.”
It's filthy and wrong but with a soft moan, Drake opened his mouth and took Ricky into his mouth. It felt strange, full in away that made Drake want to stop and explore but Ricky had both his hands in Drake’s hair now and he was pulling forward, then back.
It took about a minute and a half for Drake to get a rhythm. And then he as drowning in the smell of sex and the sound of the ocean and Ricky’s cursing and the feel of big fingers pulling his hair and scraping across his scalp.
Then Ricky grabbed the back of his neck, held his face and began pumping his hips forward, then back, then hard forward again and again. Drake was choking and his eyes were watering and before he could break free and protest, salty fluid was spurting into his mouth.
Drake groaned and hung limp as Ricky jerked and cursed and pulled his hair. And then he slid out of Drake’s mouth wetly and Drake could do nothing but kneel on the sand, stunned. His throat constricted and he swallowed on pure reflex.
When he could finally look up he saw Ricky, his jeans now zipped up, smirking down at him and smoking not one but two cigarettes. He handed one down to Drake.
“You were made for sucking dick, Parker,” Ricky said idly, watching as Drake took a long, deep drag. “Your mouth’s like a fucking Hoover.”
Drake took that as the compliment he’s fairly sure it was, with said mouth wrapped around the Winston. The smoke mingled oddly well with the taste of come on Drake’s tongue as he stood up. He figured that was why everyone smoked in the movies after sex. He took another puff and noticed that his face hurt a little.
“You okay?” Ricky asked finally.
Drake nodded and ran a hand through his hair. He did his best to straighten it and make it lie back flat “Yeah. I’m good.”
And he was. As abrupt and startling as it had been, the whole experience had been intense and strangely hot. He could still taste Ricky and he ached in his jeans.
“I told you, it’s new.”
“You did good, Parker. And not just for a first timer.”
“Thanks.”
Ricky gave him a long look before reaching out and plucking the cigarette from Drake’s hand. He then leaned in and planted a brief kiss on his lips, which still felt stretched and tired.
“I’ll give you a ride home.”
“A ride for a ride?” Drake asked, understanding now what he had meant earlier.
Ricky smirked. “I think we can manage that.”
And when they stopped again, it was a block from Drake’s house.
The blowjob Ricky gave Drake, as he leaned against his motorcycle, was not the first one Drake had ever received. But it was without question one of the best. And when he came with his hands clenching on Ricky’s leather-covered shoulders it felt, to Drake, like a door opening.
~*~*~
The first time Drake made love to someone, or at least thought he did, was when he was seventeen and it was with Carly.
She was absolutely everything Drake had ever thought he wanted. She was cool and gorgeous and she knew almost as much as he did about music. Maybe more. She was tough and she was strong and she was so fucking hot that she made steam come out his ears.
Ask anyone and they'd tell you Drake threw her away though.
The truth was didn't so much throw her away as get thrown himself. He was just way too far ahead of her.
They made love almost every day for a few amazing weeks, always in her bedroom. They moved together in the yellow light of late afternoon or in the darkness of the early morning hours. He would crawl in her window after curfew and she would throw back the covers and then throw them back over them.
Everything he’d done, all girls he had dated and had sex with, all guys he’d hung out and slept with, none of them really compared to what he’d shared with Carly in those weeks.
He looked into her eyes as he moved inside her, held her hand with his fingers twined hers. He whispered to her and watched her face as she came and decided that she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
He’d thought he was making love to her because he thought they were in love.
It was on a night like that when he told her about all his firsts. She asked. She shared hers so that he would feel comfortable. She told him she wouldn’t mind.
She was liar.
Her face started to fall when he mentioned Danny. It was a mask when he talked about his long time arrangement with Trevor. He didn’t mention Ricky or the boys who came after the bad boy biker at all.
She broke up with him two weeks later.
That was the first time Drake’s heart broke.
~*~*~
The first time Drake let himself get fucked he was twenty and living in LA.
Not West Hollywood because for god’s sake he wasn’t gay. He liked women way too much to be gay.
He just had more diverse tastes than most people seemed to. He’s doing well with Spin City Records but he wasn't famous enough yet that anyone really knew who he was.
So when he went into a club in West Hollywood, he didn’t worry about his reputation or how it’d look. That night he just went in, swallowed the hit of ecstasy Trevor gave him when he was in San Diego two months ago and never took, and started to dance. He danced until a hand slid around his waist and across his stomach. The hand slipped under his shirt and caressed the soft skin it found.
“So beautiful. You’re so beautiful. God, let me fuck you.”
The voice curled through Drake like warmth and rich colors and he really needed to thank Trevor. He hardly ever rolled or did anything more than take the occasional drink or joint at a party but this is so obviously good X.
But he was sober enough to shake his head. He didn’t do that. He was a top when it came to stuff like that and he liked it that way.
His partner spun him around and pulled him close. Drake looked up and his heart nearly stopped beating as he stared into familiar gray eyes framed by dirty-blond bangs.
“Danny Keller?” Drake asked, breathless with shock and want that was almost ten years old. He felt twelve again.
Danny tilted his head. “Do I know you?” he asked, shouting over the pulsing techno.
“I’m Drake.” Drake shouted back. “I dated your sister in middle school.”
Danny laughed, his head thrown back exposing a long, strong neck. Drake wanted to lick it.
“I remember you,” Danny called, leaning over to speak directly into Drake’s ear. His hot breath on the shell of Drake’s ear set him on fire. “You want to get out of here?”
Drake didn’t need to be told twice. And since Danny was considerably more sober than Drake, he drove. And they talked, about what Drake would never remember later.
By the time they made it to Drake’s house in the Hills, Drake was so turned on he could barely think. He hadn’t come close to feeling like this since Carly had dumped him and he pretty much jumped Danny the second they got inside the door.
Danny was still bigger than Drake. He was built like Josh, broad and tall and solid. He was strong enough that Drake could climb him like a really sexy tree and he did just that, which made Danny laugh.
“Bedroom?” Danny asked, pulling his mouth away from Drake’s just long enough to ask.
Drake just pointed, trusting his childhood fantasy to know where to go.
They landed on his bed with a thump and a bounce and Drake was coming out his clothes like a snake shedding his skin. Danny was pulling his shirt off over his head and yanking at his own pants with equal desperation.
“Drake, I want-“
“Yes,” Drake moaned, not caring what Danny was asking. Anything. He’d do pretty much anything to have this fantasy become reality.
“Have you ever been fucked?” Danny asked later, after Drake had already come once and was lying limp and twitching.
Drake shook his head.
“I want to. Drake, can I fuck you?” he asked, his lips brushing against Drake’s as he spoke.
“Yeah. Whatever, just yeah.”
It takes awhile and it hurts but when Danny is finally inside him, its like being hit by lightening. He felt stretched and full and good but as Danny began moving in and out he was struck by the sudden realization that something was wrong.
It was like this shouldn’t be happening this way. It felt like there was a good reason why he hadn’t let anyone do this before. But with the ecstasy and the pleasure and the moaning and the hand on his dick and the dick in his ass he really couldn’t think. He couldn’t do anything but try and keep up with Danny so that he didn’t lose his mind.
When it was over, after they had both come - Drake on Danny’s hand and his own stomach and Danny deep inside him with only a thin layer of latex separating them - it came to Drake. He remembered why he’d never let anyone fuck him.
It was because he’d been saving it, for the next time he made love.
Curled up next to his ultimate fantasy, Drake felt empty and weirdly sad. Being in Danny’s arms only helped a little.
~*~*~
The first time Drake realized he had found the love of his life, he was twenty-one and visiting Josh at school in Boston.
Josh had just finished midterms, which meant that he’d actually have time to hang out, so Drake flew in to Logan Airport. Josh met him at the terminal entrance with balloons and a sign and a big dumb grin.
He dropped them all when he saw Drake and held out his arms.
“Hug me brotha!” Josh cried.
Drake laughed and wrapped his arms around Josh. Josh was thinner than he remembered, and taller after one last growth spurt. He wore a faded Harvard sweater and he didn’t let go of Drake for a solid minute.
He spent a week with Josh, sleeping in Josh’s bed while Josh slept on the couch. He followed Josh to his classes, went with him to his student government meetings, kept him company while he did his homework.
It was like being back at home. Only there was no Megan. And no Mom and Walter. And Mindy wasn’t there. And Drake wasn’t running out to hook up whatever hot girl(or guy) he could find.
He was just…happy. Really happy.
It was weird. He had everything he’d ever wanted, a career in music and glamorous life but he wasn’t that happy in LA. But in a one bedroom apartment in Cambridge with Josh, he was probably the happiest he’d been since…ever.
Then one evening, while Josh was doing his homework on the couch where he’d been sleeping, he looked up at Drake and smiled.
“I’m really glad you’re here, Drake,” Josh said softly. “I’ve really missed you. It’s not the same without you, ya know?”
And fuck, of course Drake knew. But he was kind of crap with words so he settled on the simplest solution.
He got up, pulled the book from Josh’s hands, and then slid onto Josh’s lap.
“Drake?”
He took Josh’s face in his hand as his life clicked into perfect place.
“I love you.” He said simply. Because he did. He had always loved Josh. Ever since they were teenagers he had loved Josh. It had just taken a really long time for his brain to work out how he loved Josh.
But Drake knew now. He was positive that it was the kind of love he hadn’t even known to be waiting for. It was a good thing to know, Drake decided.
Then Drake kissed him.
It wasn’t fireworks and epiphanies. It was warm and familiar and hot and scary and everything that Drake had never really thought to want before now.
Josh moaned and snaked his arms around Drakes back. He didn’t ask questions. He just stood up and as he did so, Drake wrapped his legs around Josh’s waist.
He broke the kiss and gasped “You’ve been working out.”
“Hush you,” Josh chided even as he pressed Drake up against a wall. Which was exactly where Drake wanted to be - between Josh and a hard place.
“Josh,” Drake hissed as Josh ground against him. “Josh, please.”
“Kay,” Josh mumbled.
Josh took a step back so Drake could lower his legs to the ground. And then Drake was leading Josh back to his own bedroom, stopping to kiss Josh or suck on his throat or pull of an article of clothes as they went.
He had Josh naked except for his socks by the time they hit the bed. And those Josh pulled off, hopping on one foot then the other, before bouncing on the bed.
“It's like making out with a puppy,” Drake observed.
“A sexy puppy?”
Drake grinned. “Oh yeah.” He said seriously before pushing Josh back and climbing on top of him.
This time, when Drake was filled, it felt right. It was like being home and on another planet at the same time. His entire being was on fire but he felt completely safe.
“I love you,” Josh whispered against his neck as he thrust up into Drake’s body, as his hands worshiped Drake’s pale skin. “Loved you for so long, Drake. I waited. I waited for you. Love you. Love you so much. God, love you.”
The words, the sincerity of them, broke Drake. They put him back together. They sent him over the edge into the kind of climax that rendered him dumb and blind and deaf and senseless. But when he came back, Josh was still there, tracing his features with the tip of a finger.
“Hey,” he said softly. “You okay?”
Drake licked his lips. “I’m so good.”
Josh gave him that goofy, happy smile. “Good. No regrets?”
Drake shook his head. He didn’t have a single one. Because this was the last first time. And he was ready for what came after.
Chapter: 1/1
Series: Drake and Josh
Author: dancinbutterfly
Pairing: Drake/OCs, Drake/Various Canon charactres, Drake/Josh
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Slash, Het, graphic sex
Word count: 4,554
Disclaimer: I don't own Drake & Josh or Drake or Josh. *sigh* I dont own Carly or Trevor or any canon characters.
A/N: This started as a Five Things fic but there were more than five first times for Drake so I wrote this instead.
Dedications: This is Marla who made a really generous contribution to the really fantastic charity fire_fic in exchange for D/J fic from me. This isnt the fic she asked for but it's something that should help hold her over till I can.
Beta: I wrote this in one night so it's not beta'd. Sorry!
Feedback: Pretty please?
Summary: There have been many first times in Drake Parker's life.
First Times: Drake
The firs time Drake ever kissed someone he was all of five years old.
Mary Johnson was just so pretty in her red dress, laughing on the see-saw. Drake waited until her side came down and planted a kiss on her cheek. Her skin as soft and warm from the sun and she smelled good, like cookies.
Mary burst into tears, hopped off the see-saw and sent the black haired boy on the other side of the seesaw to the ground with a thump.
Drake watched her go sobbing to her mommy and just shrugged. He’d do better next time.
~*~*~
The first time Drake gets kissed he’s about nine. He was still in elementary school but he hadn’t decided to stop paying attention to what was being taught yet.
It was just before Christmas and his teacher, whose face and name he didn’t remember, had decided it would be educational to teach them about the history of all the Christmas traditions. Drake didn’t care about most of it but he caught the bit about mistletoe.
Especially after Debbie Mercer caught Drake, unawares, in a doorway. She kissed him briefly on the lips then smiled as he blinked at her.
“What?”
She pointed up. “Mistletoe, dumdum.”
And there, above him, was a shiny green sprig with red berries on it. A tree that got you kissed? Genius. He grinned.
“Oh. Yeah.”
She kissed him again then skipped off to her desk.
Drake stood in that doorway as often as he could after that and by the time winter vacation rolled around, he’d been kissed by every girl in his class.
~*~*~
The first time Drake kissed a boy he was eleven and in the messy throws of the start of puberty.
He was in Trevor’s basement at the time and they were watching the porn that Trevor had stolen from Trevor’s older brother. It was two women with big, awkward looking boobs rolling around on the grass of a football field.
Drake had barely been able to understand what they were doing. He didn’t really need to. They were moaning and they were naked and he was hard. But that as starting to get less strange and more familiar.
Only this time he noticed that Trevor was too.
It made him feel weird, deep in the pit of his stomach. Like maybe that was bad. Or scarier still, like maybe that wasn’t bad.
They were seated next to each other on the ratty couch, fidgeting and shifting when Drake decided to just do it. If two girls could kiss, and kissing they were, right in front of him on the TV, why not two boys? And he really wanted to be kissing someone right then.
So he leaned over and planted one on Trevor’s shocked lips.
“Dude?” Trevor asked, bewildered, when Drake pulled away.
Drake shrugged. “Sorry. Seemed like…I should. I don’t know.”
Trevor blushed and laughed. “It’s cool.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Drake grinned. “So can we do it some more?”
Trevor grinned back. “Yeah.”
It was stuff like this that made Trevor Drake’s best friend, Drake decided. And then he kissed Trevor again.
~*~*~
The first time Drake ever had a real, honest-to-god crush he was twelve years old and so in lust his skin crawled. In lust and scared out of his fucking mind.
He was petrified because this was unlike anything Drake had experienced before. He was used to the middle school girls who giggled and gossiped and hooked up and broke up with various boys every two days or so.
This was different. This was disturbing. This got into his head and set up shop and ten years later the images from his most intense wet dreams about his crush were still in his spank bank.
The object of his obsession was tall, taller than him by a good foot. Dirty-blonde hair fell gracefully over bright gray eyes. And his name was Danny Keller.
He was one of Drake’s girlfriends’ older brothers and just the similarity Christie Keller had shared with her sixteen-year-old brother was enough to set Drake off like a rocket.
Danny was a cool older sibling, like Drake imagined he’d be to Megan if she weren’t such a little brat. He hung out with his younger sister and, by proxy, with Drake and it was all Drake could do during those long afternoons to keep from jumping across the couch and crawling up Danny’s tall frame.
Needless to say, Christie was one of the longest girlfriends he’d ever managed to keep.
Then Danny had started dating a gorgeous girl with long brown hair and mile-long legs and Drake had been devastated. So much so that he’d broken up with Christie.
Danny and Christie moved away six months later. But the dreams didn’t leave for another year.
~*~*~
The first time Drake had sex he was fourteen. His mom still didn’t know and that was the way he damn well intended to keep it.
It was with a girl named Marla, an 11th grader who had beautiful, high breasts and wore lipstick the color of a red Blowpop. He’d met her at a party Trevor’s older brother threw when Trevor’s parents were out of town and she’d taken a liking to him.
Well, she’d been completely shit-faced drunk and she’d thought he was someone named Stephen. Drake was a little high(he and Trevor had discovered pot a few months earlier) and when she took off his belt and started kissing the side of his neck he decided that he could roll with it and be Stephen for a night.
As it turned out, Marla really really liked Stephen. So much so that she had dragged Drake up to Trevor’s bedroom and pushed him down on the bed. She’d moaned and sighed and ground against him and then she took off her top and Drake’s brain had shorted out.
Where she produced the condom from, Drake had no idea and he didn’t ask. He just held on to her hips and watched as she slowly sank down on top of him. She was hot and soft and did he mention hot? God, it was better than anything Drake had felt in his entire life and the only reason he didn’t lose it right then was that she groaned out Stephen’s name. It brought him sharply back down to earth, which wasn’t a bad thing because she started moving.
She whimpered in the back of her throat and panted and ran her fingernails down the front of his t-shirt (which she had neglected to take off). She rotated her hips with her head throw back and her breasts thrust out and well…he’d had to touch them. He didn’t really see any other option but to cup one of them the palm of his hand as she rode him.
“Stephen, oh, god, Stephen, please, please, Stephen. Ugh!” She cried and then she shook and trembled around him. She slammed herself down and Drake suddenly went blind with pleasure. He was saying things, though he didn’t know what later, and choking and drowning and dying because it was just too good to live through.
Then it was over. And he was asleep. When he woke up, Trevor was sitting in his beanbag chair on the floor, grinning at Drake who still lay, naked from the waist down save for a thin shirt and covered from the waist up in his t-shirt. But Marla was gone.
“You,” Trevor said reverently, eying the used condom in the trashcan beside his bed, “are the man.”
Drake shrugged and fell back onto Trevor’s pillows with a thud.
~*~*~
The first time Drake had sex with a guy he was fifteen and he hadn’t really been expecting it.
That first time was just a blowjob. Admittedly, it was something that he hadn’t been planning on doing but some people were hard to say no to.
Ricky Palladino was repeating junior who was a mere two weeks away from turning eighteen and he had a motorcycle. It was sleek and beautiful and purred like a kitten when he revved the engine and Drake had fallen in love with it at first sight.
Not that Ricky was bad either. He was a little taller than Drake, about Josh’s height, with messy brown hair that he sometimes covered with a black skull and crossbones bandana and blue eyes that he kept behind sunglasses 99.9% of the time.
But Drake wasn’t really afraid of him. In awe of him? Yes. But afraid of him? Not particularly. And even if he were, he loved Ricky’s bike more than he could ever have been scared of the budding delinquent.
At least until the day he finally approached him about giving him a ride on that big, purring machine.
Ricky had studied him from behind his shades for a long time. They were in the parking lot of the Premiere and Drake had chosen asking about the bike over going on his ten o’clock date.
“What are you going to give me?” Ricky asked as reached in to his pocket and brought out a pack of Winstons.
Drake watched as the older boy removed a cigarette from the pack with his lips. He wondered how the hell anyone could be that cool as Ricky flicked open his Zippo and lit it.
“What do you want?” Drake asked, taking a cigarette from the pack when it was offered. He didn’t particularly like to smoke but he’d done it enough times to do so without embarrassing himself.
Ricky took a long drag and blew gray smoke out through his nose. “A ride for a ride.”
Drake nodded because that sounded more than fair and he could always make room for the guy in Walter’s car. Ricky took a few more puffs and flicked his cigarette away, climbing gracefully on his bike. Drake just watched him.
Ricky pulled on a heavy black helmet then turned to look at Drake. “You coming?”
Drake nodded again and Ricky produced a second helmet from beneath the bitch seat. Then Drake slid on behind him, carefully rested his hands on his own legs, and let the thrumming of the engine sing up his thighs.
By the time they got where they were going - the beach - Drake had his arms wrapped tightly around Ricky’s waist. The guy liked to take sharp curves at high speeds and he’d acted on instinct.
They came to a stop on a dark stretch of road next that was less than a two minute walk from the Pacific. Drake could smell the salt air and hear the waves and if he looked up he could see more stars than he could have dreamed of.
He followed Ricky off the road and out into the sand. He didn’t pull away when Ricky caught him but the front of his shirt and hauled him in for a hot kiss.
He didn’t kiss guys often. He only made out with Trevor when they both high(which was less often now that he was hanging out with Josh all the time) and he didn’t really count that. That was just a thing. Their thing. Kissing Trevor was kind of like beating off: easy, comfortable, and familiar.
Kissing Ricky was like jumping out of a plane. It was like falling through the sky at a hundred miles per hour and gaining speed with every second. He was hard where his girlfriends were soft, powerful where they were submissive.
And then he sent Drake to his knees in the sand.
“A ride for a ride,” Ricky hissed. He unzipped his jeans and took himself out with one hand while the other tangled in the hair at the back of Drake’s head.
“I’ve never done this before,” Drake said numbly, staring at Ricky’s dick, hard and alien in the moonlight.
“It’s not hard.” Ricky said mildly. “Watch your teeth, keep your mouth wet and suck. If you do something wrong, I’ll let you know.”
Drake swallowed hard and licked his lips. He’d thought about this. Not with Ricky, but ever since his crush on Danny Keller, he had the idea of doing something like this in the back of his mind.
And really, how hard could it be?
He’d gotten a hundred blowjobs from girls since he started dating. He knew what he liked. It made sense that Ricky would like the same thing.
Ricky was hard and smooth and dry. It was strange because Drake was used to the way girls feel, wet and slick and soft.
He licked the head experimentally and tasted sweat and something else that was a little bitter but not completely bad. He licked again, starting at the base and going all the way to the tip like it was a popsicle because Karen Farrow had done that to him when they were dating and his brain had nearly exploded.
Ricky exhaled loudly and pulled hard on his hair, thrusting forward with his hips demandingly. He prodded at Drake’s lips and hissed, “Just fucking suck me, Parker.”
It's filthy and wrong but with a soft moan, Drake opened his mouth and took Ricky into his mouth. It felt strange, full in away that made Drake want to stop and explore but Ricky had both his hands in Drake’s hair now and he was pulling forward, then back.
It took about a minute and a half for Drake to get a rhythm. And then he as drowning in the smell of sex and the sound of the ocean and Ricky’s cursing and the feel of big fingers pulling his hair and scraping across his scalp.
Then Ricky grabbed the back of his neck, held his face and began pumping his hips forward, then back, then hard forward again and again. Drake was choking and his eyes were watering and before he could break free and protest, salty fluid was spurting into his mouth.
Drake groaned and hung limp as Ricky jerked and cursed and pulled his hair. And then he slid out of Drake’s mouth wetly and Drake could do nothing but kneel on the sand, stunned. His throat constricted and he swallowed on pure reflex.
When he could finally look up he saw Ricky, his jeans now zipped up, smirking down at him and smoking not one but two cigarettes. He handed one down to Drake.
“You were made for sucking dick, Parker,” Ricky said idly, watching as Drake took a long, deep drag. “Your mouth’s like a fucking Hoover.”
Drake took that as the compliment he’s fairly sure it was, with said mouth wrapped around the Winston. The smoke mingled oddly well with the taste of come on Drake’s tongue as he stood up. He figured that was why everyone smoked in the movies after sex. He took another puff and noticed that his face hurt a little.
“You okay?” Ricky asked finally.
Drake nodded and ran a hand through his hair. He did his best to straighten it and make it lie back flat “Yeah. I’m good.”
And he was. As abrupt and startling as it had been, the whole experience had been intense and strangely hot. He could still taste Ricky and he ached in his jeans.
“I told you, it’s new.”
“You did good, Parker. And not just for a first timer.”
“Thanks.”
Ricky gave him a long look before reaching out and plucking the cigarette from Drake’s hand. He then leaned in and planted a brief kiss on his lips, which still felt stretched and tired.
“I’ll give you a ride home.”
“A ride for a ride?” Drake asked, understanding now what he had meant earlier.
Ricky smirked. “I think we can manage that.”
And when they stopped again, it was a block from Drake’s house.
The blowjob Ricky gave Drake, as he leaned against his motorcycle, was not the first one Drake had ever received. But it was without question one of the best. And when he came with his hands clenching on Ricky’s leather-covered shoulders it felt, to Drake, like a door opening.
~*~*~
The first time Drake made love to someone, or at least thought he did, was when he was seventeen and it was with Carly.
She was absolutely everything Drake had ever thought he wanted. She was cool and gorgeous and she knew almost as much as he did about music. Maybe more. She was tough and she was strong and she was so fucking hot that she made steam come out his ears.
Ask anyone and they'd tell you Drake threw her away though.
The truth was didn't so much throw her away as get thrown himself. He was just way too far ahead of her.
They made love almost every day for a few amazing weeks, always in her bedroom. They moved together in the yellow light of late afternoon or in the darkness of the early morning hours. He would crawl in her window after curfew and she would throw back the covers and then throw them back over them.
Everything he’d done, all girls he had dated and had sex with, all guys he’d hung out and slept with, none of them really compared to what he’d shared with Carly in those weeks.
He looked into her eyes as he moved inside her, held her hand with his fingers twined hers. He whispered to her and watched her face as she came and decided that she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
He’d thought he was making love to her because he thought they were in love.
It was on a night like that when he told her about all his firsts. She asked. She shared hers so that he would feel comfortable. She told him she wouldn’t mind.
She was liar.
Her face started to fall when he mentioned Danny. It was a mask when he talked about his long time arrangement with Trevor. He didn’t mention Ricky or the boys who came after the bad boy biker at all.
She broke up with him two weeks later.
That was the first time Drake’s heart broke.
~*~*~
The first time Drake let himself get fucked he was twenty and living in LA.
Not West Hollywood because for god’s sake he wasn’t gay. He liked women way too much to be gay.
He just had more diverse tastes than most people seemed to. He’s doing well with Spin City Records but he wasn't famous enough yet that anyone really knew who he was.
So when he went into a club in West Hollywood, he didn’t worry about his reputation or how it’d look. That night he just went in, swallowed the hit of ecstasy Trevor gave him when he was in San Diego two months ago and never took, and started to dance. He danced until a hand slid around his waist and across his stomach. The hand slipped under his shirt and caressed the soft skin it found.
“So beautiful. You’re so beautiful. God, let me fuck you.”
The voice curled through Drake like warmth and rich colors and he really needed to thank Trevor. He hardly ever rolled or did anything more than take the occasional drink or joint at a party but this is so obviously good X.
But he was sober enough to shake his head. He didn’t do that. He was a top when it came to stuff like that and he liked it that way.
His partner spun him around and pulled him close. Drake looked up and his heart nearly stopped beating as he stared into familiar gray eyes framed by dirty-blond bangs.
“Danny Keller?” Drake asked, breathless with shock and want that was almost ten years old. He felt twelve again.
Danny tilted his head. “Do I know you?” he asked, shouting over the pulsing techno.
“I’m Drake.” Drake shouted back. “I dated your sister in middle school.”
Danny laughed, his head thrown back exposing a long, strong neck. Drake wanted to lick it.
“I remember you,” Danny called, leaning over to speak directly into Drake’s ear. His hot breath on the shell of Drake’s ear set him on fire. “You want to get out of here?”
Drake didn’t need to be told twice. And since Danny was considerably more sober than Drake, he drove. And they talked, about what Drake would never remember later.
By the time they made it to Drake’s house in the Hills, Drake was so turned on he could barely think. He hadn’t come close to feeling like this since Carly had dumped him and he pretty much jumped Danny the second they got inside the door.
Danny was still bigger than Drake. He was built like Josh, broad and tall and solid. He was strong enough that Drake could climb him like a really sexy tree and he did just that, which made Danny laugh.
“Bedroom?” Danny asked, pulling his mouth away from Drake’s just long enough to ask.
Drake just pointed, trusting his childhood fantasy to know where to go.
They landed on his bed with a thump and a bounce and Drake was coming out his clothes like a snake shedding his skin. Danny was pulling his shirt off over his head and yanking at his own pants with equal desperation.
“Drake, I want-“
“Yes,” Drake moaned, not caring what Danny was asking. Anything. He’d do pretty much anything to have this fantasy become reality.
“Have you ever been fucked?” Danny asked later, after Drake had already come once and was lying limp and twitching.
Drake shook his head.
“I want to. Drake, can I fuck you?” he asked, his lips brushing against Drake’s as he spoke.
“Yeah. Whatever, just yeah.”
It takes awhile and it hurts but when Danny is finally inside him, its like being hit by lightening. He felt stretched and full and good but as Danny began moving in and out he was struck by the sudden realization that something was wrong.
It was like this shouldn’t be happening this way. It felt like there was a good reason why he hadn’t let anyone do this before. But with the ecstasy and the pleasure and the moaning and the hand on his dick and the dick in his ass he really couldn’t think. He couldn’t do anything but try and keep up with Danny so that he didn’t lose his mind.
When it was over, after they had both come - Drake on Danny’s hand and his own stomach and Danny deep inside him with only a thin layer of latex separating them - it came to Drake. He remembered why he’d never let anyone fuck him.
It was because he’d been saving it, for the next time he made love.
Curled up next to his ultimate fantasy, Drake felt empty and weirdly sad. Being in Danny’s arms only helped a little.
~*~*~
The first time Drake realized he had found the love of his life, he was twenty-one and visiting Josh at school in Boston.
Josh had just finished midterms, which meant that he’d actually have time to hang out, so Drake flew in to Logan Airport. Josh met him at the terminal entrance with balloons and a sign and a big dumb grin.
He dropped them all when he saw Drake and held out his arms.
“Hug me brotha!” Josh cried.
Drake laughed and wrapped his arms around Josh. Josh was thinner than he remembered, and taller after one last growth spurt. He wore a faded Harvard sweater and he didn’t let go of Drake for a solid minute.
He spent a week with Josh, sleeping in Josh’s bed while Josh slept on the couch. He followed Josh to his classes, went with him to his student government meetings, kept him company while he did his homework.
It was like being back at home. Only there was no Megan. And no Mom and Walter. And Mindy wasn’t there. And Drake wasn’t running out to hook up whatever hot girl(or guy) he could find.
He was just…happy. Really happy.
It was weird. He had everything he’d ever wanted, a career in music and glamorous life but he wasn’t that happy in LA. But in a one bedroom apartment in Cambridge with Josh, he was probably the happiest he’d been since…ever.
Then one evening, while Josh was doing his homework on the couch where he’d been sleeping, he looked up at Drake and smiled.
“I’m really glad you’re here, Drake,” Josh said softly. “I’ve really missed you. It’s not the same without you, ya know?”
And fuck, of course Drake knew. But he was kind of crap with words so he settled on the simplest solution.
He got up, pulled the book from Josh’s hands, and then slid onto Josh’s lap.
“Drake?”
He took Josh’s face in his hand as his life clicked into perfect place.
“I love you.” He said simply. Because he did. He had always loved Josh. Ever since they were teenagers he had loved Josh. It had just taken a really long time for his brain to work out how he loved Josh.
But Drake knew now. He was positive that it was the kind of love he hadn’t even known to be waiting for. It was a good thing to know, Drake decided.
Then Drake kissed him.
It wasn’t fireworks and epiphanies. It was warm and familiar and hot and scary and everything that Drake had never really thought to want before now.
Josh moaned and snaked his arms around Drakes back. He didn’t ask questions. He just stood up and as he did so, Drake wrapped his legs around Josh’s waist.
He broke the kiss and gasped “You’ve been working out.”
“Hush you,” Josh chided even as he pressed Drake up against a wall. Which was exactly where Drake wanted to be - between Josh and a hard place.
“Josh,” Drake hissed as Josh ground against him. “Josh, please.”
“Kay,” Josh mumbled.
Josh took a step back so Drake could lower his legs to the ground. And then Drake was leading Josh back to his own bedroom, stopping to kiss Josh or suck on his throat or pull of an article of clothes as they went.
He had Josh naked except for his socks by the time they hit the bed. And those Josh pulled off, hopping on one foot then the other, before bouncing on the bed.
“It's like making out with a puppy,” Drake observed.
“A sexy puppy?”
Drake grinned. “Oh yeah.” He said seriously before pushing Josh back and climbing on top of him.
This time, when Drake was filled, it felt right. It was like being home and on another planet at the same time. His entire being was on fire but he felt completely safe.
“I love you,” Josh whispered against his neck as he thrust up into Drake’s body, as his hands worshiped Drake’s pale skin. “Loved you for so long, Drake. I waited. I waited for you. Love you. Love you so much. God, love you.”
The words, the sincerity of them, broke Drake. They put him back together. They sent him over the edge into the kind of climax that rendered him dumb and blind and deaf and senseless. But when he came back, Josh was still there, tracing his features with the tip of a finger.
“Hey,” he said softly. “You okay?”
Drake licked his lips. “I’m so good.”
Josh gave him that goofy, happy smile. “Good. No regrets?”
Drake shook his head. He didn’t have a single one. Because this was the last first time. And he was ready for what came after.