Something You Shouldn’t Do

Title: Something You Shouldn’t Do
Fandom: That 70’s Show
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Kelso/Eric
Warnings: Slash, drug use, sex
Summary: Everything’s okay until the day after.
Words: 1,031
Author’s Note: I have written this quickie one-shot because I am deranged. And there needs to be some more Kelso/Eric out there. I have done my part. ^__~
Disclaimer: I do not own nor am I affiliated with *That 70’s Show*, Topher Grace, or Ashton Kutcher.
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Eric is stoned out of his mind and so is Kelso, and so it’s okay when Kelso wraps his hand around the back of Eric’s neck and leans in and they’re sloppily kissing with too much teeth and Eric’s hand twisting into Kelso’s shirt.

It’s okay when Eric’s back is biting into the old sofa cushion in the basement; when Kelso nudges open those long, skinny legs and slides in-between them so his jean-covered erection is pushing against Eric’s rear like he means to do something about it.

It’s okay when Eric rolls his tongue around inside Kelso’s warm, pretty mouth, and Kelso’s nimble fingers unzip the fly of his jeans and yank them down along with his tiny tighty-whities all the way to his ankles.

Off go his worn sneakers—he toes off his crumpled jeans and underwear while Kelso undoes his own jeans and pushes them down to mid-thigh, his flushed cock dribbling and exposed, and *it’s okay*.

Kelso is stupid except when he’s *smart*, and he’s smart enough to know he needs to stretch Eric out to get him ready for what they’re going to do, so he wets his index finger with his mouth and rubs it around the tight pink untouched ring of muscle Eric has offered up and then *pushes* it in and in and in and Eric yowls a little and squirms uncomfortably as Kelso curls his finger and moves it around while his eager cock throbs against his abdomen.

“Shit,” pants Eric, and his neck is arched and sweaty, so Kelso licks it, and Eric starts in surprise. “How much do you know about this stuff?” asks Eric, and Kelso says, “Enough,” and kisses him, and Eric isn’t sure if that was an answer or a way to get him to shut up, and he’s uncomfortable with the fact that sweet, ditzy Kelso is on top of him and his mouth knows how to do these *things* that Eric never knew mouths could do and there’s a finger wiggling inside his rear, and he’s maybe kind of nervous and excited that he’s about to have a fat firm cock pushed into him, and he doesn’t know if he’ll like—

Eric shrieks in surprise and discomfort as Kelso pushes his middle finger up into him along with the first; there are two digits enveloped in the slick heat of his narrow passage and Kelso’s stomach keeps rubbing against the tip of his cock as he kisses him, and it kind of hurts but then it kind of feels fucking *good*, and Eric isn’t going to back out of this now.

Kelso’s tongue runs against the ridges of Eric’s teeth and he nips at Eric’s bruised bottom lip, and he bets no one has ever done this to Eric Forman before him; he wonders if fucking someone who’s slim and pretty like a girl will feel the same way a girl does all around his cock—he can’t wait, he’s impatient; he pushes his cock in inch by agonizing inch into that narrow frame and Eric makes terrible noises and his heart beats quickly against Kelso’s chest, but he doesn’t tell him to stop, so Kelso doesn’t.

It hurts, which Kelso hadn’t expected—Eric is tense and his asshole is much tighter than a slick little pussy would be, but Kelso can work with that, so long as he can loosen him up some.

Meanwhile Eric is having a rough time of things, because he’s fucked but he’s never *been* fucked, and if Donna felt like this when he was inside her then she needed to get some sort of fucking endurance trophy or *something* because this *stung*, this parted you out around something that didn’t feel like it belonged there *at all*, and Kelso’s mouth on his nipple helps take his mind off of it a little, but this better start feeling good soon before he calls it quits.

Then Kelso starts moving his hips too soon and Eric has to hit him on the arm and tell him to stop that, he’d tell him when he was ready, and when it didn’t feel like Kelso was breaking him open anymore, he relaxed his fists from Kelso’s back and said, “Okay, now,” so Kelso started moving.

It was okay; Kelso was moving slowly in and out and Eric could ignore the sore ache in his ass and wrap his thighs around Kelso’s waist, ankles crossing and hands holding onto broad shoulders, and it felt kind of…nice.

Kelso was kissing him and his own cock smeared precome all across their stomachs, and Eric actually started to *like* the deep drag of Kelso’s cock inside him; he took himself into his hand and used the other to pinch and rub inexpertly at Kelso’s nipple, mouth wet against a collarbone, and later he looked up at Kelso’s flushed face and came over his chest while his hand massaged his own tightening balls.

Kelso kept going—sped up his pace, his cock going in-and-out; balls slapping against Eric’s penetrated asshole, and Eric relaxed in the lazy haze after his orgasm and watched what Kelso looked like when he was *seven-eight-nine* impatient thrusts from release, and then Kelso closed his eyes and groaned as his sticky seed shot from his cock into the unfamiliar inside of Eric’s small rear, his hair dark-wet and clumped on his forehead, strangely strong and lovely buried all the way up to his balls in Eric’s private heat.

He makes an unintelligible noise of satisfaction against Eric’s shoulder and slumps against him, and it’s okay, because Eric can’t really talk or move much, either.

But when he gets too heavy Eric pushes against him in protest and Kelso eases out, and, oh, it’s so lewd, and that’s okay, too.

But the next day Eric is sore and Kelso can’t find it in him to talk to him, and both are embarrassed—silent with the sick-thick shame of what they’ve done together, and that is *not okay*.

Nothing can be okay between them now; not after this.

They are not ready—not nearly ready to face what they have shared, and *that is not okay*.