
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/638288.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Glee
  Relationship:
      Will_Schuester/Bryan_Ryan, Terri_Schuester/Will_Schuester_(background
      relationship)
  Character:
      Will_Schuester, Bryan_Ryan
  Additional Tags:
      Pre-Canon, Hate_Sex, Bathroom_Sex, High_School, Infidelity
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-01-14 Words: 1595
****** Look in the Mirror ******
by coffeebuddha
Summary
     Soft footsteps reverberated off the walls and sent an anticipatory
     shiver down Will's spine. His skin prickled, felt too tight for his
     body. When he looked up, Bryan Ryan was behind him, looking over his
     shoulder, glaring at him in the mirror.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
Will heard the faint, metallic click of the tumblers in the bathroom door's
lock falling into place, but he kept his head down and concentrated on
scrubbing off the little doodles that Terri had scribbled on the back of his
hand during fifth period. Soft footsteps reverberated off the walls and sent an
anticipatory shiver down Will's spine. His skin prickled, felt too tight for
his body. When he looked up, Bryan Ryan was behind him, looking over his
shoulder, glaring at him in the mirror. Will looked blankly back at him, but
Ryan just glared harder until Will crossed his arms across his chest, said,
"I'm not apologizing. Everything I said was true. You were flat during the
second verse," and moved over to the paper towel dispenser. Ryan followed,
crowding up behind him, and when Will turned to face him they were chest to
chest.
"I was not flat," Ryan spat as if the word was dirty. "I have perfect pitch.
Maybe you're too incompetent to even fucking hear right, Schuester, but I was
not flat."
Will smirked. "Except for the five measures when you were, Ryan."
Ryan stepped even closer, pinning Will to the wall with his body. "Yeah, well
your mama's so flat they call her Salar de Uyuni."
Will blinked and cocked his head at Ryan. "What?"
"Salar de Uyuni," Ryan said with an exaggerated eye roll. "It's a salt flat in
Bolivia?" At Will's blank look, he heaved a large sigh and rolled his eyes
again. "It's, like, the flattest place on earth. Jesus Christ, Schuester, don't
you ever pull your head out of your own ass long enough to read a damn book?"
Will was going to say something to that-really, he was, and it would have been
amazingly witty and biting-but Ryan's palms were skating up his thighs to cup
his ass and yank him forward and suddenly Will was more concerned with how hard
and heavy Ryan felt against him.
Ryan was saying something about how he was always perfectly on pitch-he totally
wasn't-but Will wasn't listening because he was also grinding his hips in
perfect little circles against Will's. Will clenched his hands into fists to
keep from grabbing onto Ryan's shoulders and licked his lips, which made Ryan
jerk against him. When Ryan moved his leg between Will's and made short work of
their pants, roughly shoving them down just enough to feel the blissful slide
of skin on skin, Will stopped even pretending to listen to Ryan's bitching,
instead using what was left of his higher brain functions to clamp down on the
moans and whimpers he could feel rising in his throat.
Ryan looked smug-well, smugger than usual-when he took a step back and Will
nearly toppled over, but then he was back, roughly flipping Will so that his
damp cheek was flush against the wall and his body said, Why hello again.
Will heard the pop of a plastic lid opening and paused, his breath still coming
in uneven pants. He glanced over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of the
bottle of lube in Ryan's hand. Will's eyebrows shot up. "You have lube. In
school. Not lotion or something easy to explain away, but actual lube.
Seriously?"
Ryan grinned that damned cocky grin of his and wiggled the bottle in Will's
face. "Yeah, but this warms and tingles." Will snorted a laugh and grinned
back, forgetting for a second that this was Ryan and they couldn't stand each
other. Then Ryan's eyes went dark and a long, slick finger slid into his ass
and Will's dick jumped and he forgot to even think. Will shuddered as Ryan
stroked inside of him, stretching and working him open, added one, then two
more of his cool, slim fingers without asking or warning, brushed over that
spot that made Will's breath go ragged and stars explode and an angelic voice
start singing.
Wait, no. That was just Susan practicing her solo out in the hallway. She was
really getting good.
He reached up and back, grabbing a fistful of Ryan's hair. He was rough, mean,
not at all the way he was when he was with Terri. With Terri, everything was
sweet and slow and gentle and reverent. With Terri, everything was pure and
good. There was nothing pure or good about this. There was nothing right about
this. It was sick and twisted and hateful and so sinfully, deliciously wrong
that Will thought he'd probably have to spend the rest of his life trying to
play the part of the perfect Nice Guy just to atone for the handful of times
he'd spent trembling in the school bathroom after glee club with Bryan Ryan's
dick up his ass.
Then, with only the crinkle of foil ripping and the feel of Ryan shifting
behind him as a warning, Ryan's fingers slipped out of him to curve around his
hips and pull him back as Ryan pushed in. Will tensed, the change too sudden,
and tried to swallow, but his mouth and throat were too dry. He slammed his
fist against Ryan's thigh, taking perverse pleasure in hoping that it'd leave a
bruise, and tried to curse, but could only manage a strangled sounding wheeze.
Ryan slapped his hip and grumbled, "Breathe, you fucking idiot" into the curve
of Will's neck. Will forced himself to take one strangled breath after another,
and when his breathing was rough and fast, but constant, Ryan sped up, slamming
into him with a force that made Will's knees weak and his head slam back
against Ryan's shoulder with the need to hurt, pound, fight back. His fingers
scrambled against the sweat slicked wall, but he couldn't find any purchase, so
eventually he stopped trying and just braced his arm against it instead and
focused on pushing back in time with Ryan's thrusts.
He was talking, a broken mumble that he couldn't seem to control. He had the
absurd thought that they managed to keep a better tempo in here than they ever
did in glee club, and the words were slipping out of his mouth before he could
stop them. Ryan just grunted-it might have been a laugh, but it was hard to
tell-said, "Shut up, Schuester," and pressed even closer against his back.
Ryan bit his shoulder, his mouth harsh and hot through the layers of flannel
and cotton, and Will tugged hard on his hair, clenched around him, gave into
the feelings raging through him.
He couldn't put into words what Ryan did to him, would never be able to fully
express it through words or music or dance. There was anger, of course, shame,
disgust. But there was more to it than just that. It was the feeling like he
was on stage in front of a huge crowd, lights blinding him and turning his skin
rosy from the heat, his stomach queasy from nerves and excitement, but so
filled with energy and urgency and life that he thought he'd rather die than
never experience this again. Only it was better. He didn't know how, but Ryan
managed to be all those things and more.
Will's fingers were hopelessly tangled in Ryan's hair, and he pulled sharply,
yanking the taller boy's face down next to his. He turned his head slightly,
his lips barely brushing Ryan's, murmured, "You were flat," and nearly
whimpered when Ryan surged hard against, inside, around him. Will leaned
forward against the concrete wall in front of him, cold against his chest where
Ryan was pure heat against his back.
Out in the hallway, he could hear Terri, loud and sharp and annoyed at being
kept waiting when he'd told her he'd only be a few minutes. Ryan, either not
noticing or not caring-did he even know about Will and Terri?-was growling in
his ear, a low hum that did as much to push Will over the edge as the almost
familiar hand stroking his cock and the fast, overwhelming thrusts. Will
groaned as he came, louder than he'd meant, but quieter than he'd wanted, and
didn't even notice the splattering of white that showed starkly against the
black denim of his jeans, because Ryan was shaking behind him, his fingers
biting bruises into Will's narrow hips. And then they were sliding down, a
messy tangle of sweaty, awkward limbs on the dirty bathroom floor.
Ryan made a noise of disgust in the back of his throat and rolled away and onto
his feet. He didn't offer Will a hand up, didn't even look at him as they
cleaned themselves off-Will eventually noticed the stains. Terri was going to
have to wait even longer, because there was no way he was leaving the bathroom
when washing them off had made it look like he'd peed himself-and draped their
clothing back into more fashionably sloppy messes. Ryan finger combed his hair
back into place, checked himself out one more time in the mirror, and moved to
leave, pausing by Will, who was slumped against a sink and fanning
halfheartedly at the large damp spot near his crotch. He leaned forward,
bracing his hand against the porcelain lip of the sink and hissed in Will's
ear.
"You know what you are, Schuester? You're me, without the talent. You have the
ambition and the desire, but you don't have any of the skills to back it up.
And that makes you worse than worthless."
Will pulled back enough to look Ryan in the eye and grin cheerfully. "Whatever,
man, you were still flat."
End Notes
     Old fic from 2010 reposted for archiving purposes.
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their work!
