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see the stoplight turnin' red, don't you listen to what it said.
tears4therandom wrote in that70sfanfic

This marks my first entry as a member of this community. I'm hoping you all like my work! But be warned, this is slash. Don't read it if you're not into that sort of thing. Seriously.

Title - No Regrets
Author - Noah Colum
Pairing - Kelso/Eric
Rating - NC-17
Warnings - Slash, Graphic Sex, Classic Rock.
Disclaimer - Characters property of Fox. Lyrics property of Columbia and Sony.
Summary - No pot, Eric had said. No regrets. Whatever that meant.

[ x-posted in various & sundry locations ]


It was a record.

Eric ripped a slit in the side of the shrink-wrap, slid the jacket out, pulled the LP out. He set it down on the turntable and turned on the unit.

Kelso stood up from the couch, trying to get a glimpse of the jacket. "Who—?"

Eric put a finger to his lips, stashing the cover behind the couch. He set down the needle with a wink and a grin.

Kelso looked longingly at the baggie. No pot, Eric had said. No regrets. Whatever that meant. But Kelso really wanted a little bit — just a little bit. He was uncomfortable, and the little baggie always seemed to help.

The record spun and crackled, and the track started with a piano-guitar duet.

Eric turned to him as the smooth tenor voice began.

See the stoplight turnin' red, don't you listen to what it said

Kelso sat back down on the couch. "What are you...?"

Eric sat back on the couch next to him, very close. He traced Kelso's lips with the tip of his finger, took him by the shoulders and turned him around.

oh, you gotta leave this town before it's too late...

Eric drew Kelso's lips to his, teasing and nibbling with tongue and teeth. Unsure and unaware, Kelso kissed him back, not thinking, not knowing. He turned his body toward Eric, slipping his legs under him as he brought them onto the couch.

Eric settled down on top of him, kissing him harder, gathering the rough poly-blend of Kelso's polo shirt into his fists. He pressed closer, his groin rubbing Kelso's, driving home the point that he meant business.

before your time has run astray, you've got to try to get away

Kelso brought his hands to Eric's slim waist, slipping under the soft cotton of his baseball tee, tracing the curve of his back and the slope of his sides. He pushed Eric up, slightly, drawing the shirt up and over his head, down his arms, allowing Eric to do the same to him.

Their bare chests met, sending sparks through them. Eric brought his lips to Kelso's for a second, for half a second, then brought his head down, sliding down Kelso's body, kissing his jaw, his chin, kissing his neck as kelso tilted his head back over the armrest, kissing his shoulders and down to his nipple, teasing and nibbling and tracing rings with his tongue. He felt Kelso's hands slide across his face, across his shoulders, felt them clench around his hair.

Kelso then opened his eyes. Eric's hair, he realized, not Jackie's, not the girl of the week, in fact, not any girl. Eric's tongue, he thought, was making sensual circles around his nipple. And, most obvious of all, Eric's erection was pressed against his thigh.

Kelso thought about it, as a guitar solo began. He decided that it was A-OK with him, so long as Eric kept going and didn't stop, kept going, kept touching and caressing and teasing and nibbling, and fuck whatever happened once it was over.

Yes it's time to make the change...

Eric pulled Kelso's hand to the button of his jeans.

So, my friend, I join the fight for the things you know are right

Kelso tugged the button open as Eric straddled his legs, kneeling over him. Kelso fumbled with the zipper and finally slid the pants down, revealing super-clean white briefs. Kelso helped Eric get the legs off — left first, then right — and brought his hands to the waistband of his underwear. He slipped his hands under, stroking and massaging Eric's tight, smooth buttocks. Eric's eyes closed gently as Kelso slipped the briefs down to Eric's knees, revealing his arousal. He traced Eric's backside, down the middle, sliding a finger in between as the song faded out. He teased Eric's extremely tight ring, exploring all of the boy's body with eyes and hands.

Eric laid himself down on Kelso again, rolling on his side so he could reach Kelso's waist. He yanked at the button of his jeans, surprised when a whole row of buttons came undone, no zipper necessary. He slid the pants down, blue boxers too, just enough so that he could get to the important parts of Kelso.

The next track began and Kelso stuck two fingers into his mouth, clumsily. He found Eric's ring and pushed a finger inside.

He felt Eric tighten even more as he drew a sharp intake of breath. Christ, how was he even thinking of cramming himself into poor Eric? He'd break him!

Kelso pulled his finger out slowly, as Eric tightened again. He spoke, his voice cracking. "Eric...I dunno, man. I dunno if I can do this."

Eric slid down further, silently removing Kelso's pants entirely. He looked down, face to face with Kelso's weeping member. He swallowed hard, took a breath, and took the tip of his member — just the tip — into his hot, wet mouth.

You said we'd try lovin', touchin', squeezin, each other

Eric felt Kelso shudder. He held Kelso's hips, taking just a bit more of him into his mouth, and was hit by just how — how big he was. How the hell did he expect to fit Kelso inside him? His mouth seemed roomy compared to — well, down there. He traced his head with his tongue, drawing courage from the drop of precum he tasted.

Kelso opened his eyes as cool, dry air hit his throbbing member. Eric had released him, and was now sliding back up to meet him, laying down on top of him as his member prodded Kelso's abdomen.

Kelso moistened his fingers again, sliding them — both of them, this time — into Eric.

You're tearin' me apart, every every day

Eric didn't make a sound, but inside he was screaming. He felt Kelso's fingers push through, felt them spread, for Christ's sake, but it was necessary if he wanted this. And he wanted this. He wanted this. His grip on Kelso's shoulders tightened as the pain increased.

Then, with Kelso's fingers through, the pain lessened, making way for an entirely new sensation. Kelso had found something inside that made Eric feel like... Well, this must be why girls enjoy sex too.

Don't be stupid, Eric, he told himself. It doesn't go there with girls. Still, this was a totally new sensation for him.

Then Kelso pulled his fingers out again, and Eric felt the scrape of flesh on flesh once more, sending spasms of pain and pleasure through his angry ring. Eric felt Kelso gently slide out from under him, rolling him over as he climbed on top.

'Cause he's lovin', ooh, he's touchin', he's squeezin' another

Eric saw Kelso spit into his hand, watched as he rubbed the liquid across his member, still slick from Eric's efforts. He felt Kelso lift his legs, placing them over his shoulders. He felt Kelso's head prod his small opening.

Eric braced himself. He braced himself but it was not enough. Was this what it felt like to have a baby? No. Babies went out, not in.

Kelso slid inside, pushed inside against the throbbing hot walls as Eric opened his mouth, as a tiny yelp escaped from him.

Kelso stopped, looked at Eric, who opened his eyes. Are you cool? he asked silently.

Yeah. I'm cool. Eric shut his eyes again, waiting for the pain to continue.

It did continue. Finally, after nearly a lifetime, he felt Kelso's hips against his backside. He did it. He made it inside.

The pain didn't subside, but the pleasure overtook it, in the way that one wave will crash over another on the beach. Pleasure and pain, crashing inside Eric, together, at the same instant.

He felt himself drawing close, momentarily curious — he had no idea that could happen without someone touching it.

The waves rose and fell as the vocals repeated the end of the song over and over, his chest rising and falling, as Kelso began to move inside him, moving in and out, moving slowly, then a little faster, and then faster than Eric ever dreamed.

He felt Kelso slow and stop, he felt his weight shift. He opened his eyes. Kelso reached over to the low coffee table and turned the turntable off. The album slowed and stopped, and Kelso shifted back, never removing himself from Eric.

Eric closed his eyes, felt hungry lips descend upon his as the rhythm continued in the absence of music. He felt Kelso nibble his lower lip, then bite it, then devour it as he upped the tempo.

He felt Kelso's hands tighten on his shoulders as he drew closer still, unsure of when he would reach his climax.

It didn't take long. He squeezed his eyes shut, hot sticky cum shooting across Kelso's chest, some falling onto his own, and relished the new sensation of his ass spastically clenching against unyielding hard flesh. He lay back over the armrest, as Kelso had a few minutes earlier, as Kelso continued even faster, obviously drawing close himself.

Kelso, for his part, was keeping up the pace rather well. He felt himself getting further along, nearly reaching his orgasm, when he felt Eric explode across him. Part of him was relieved that Eric had finished first.

He also felt Eric tighten around him repeatedly, a sensation that drove him wild, something he hadn't experienced before. His head felt light as he brought himself to the brink of the blissful pool.

He felt Eric's tremors cease; apparently finished. It didn't matter. Kelso cannonballed into his lake of ecstasy, enjoying the resistance Eric's tight body put up as he burst within him.


Kelso awoke, blinking, wondering how he managed to get to the basement of the Forman house. Wondering why it was dark. Wondering why he was naked.

Wondering why Eric was curled into his side, fast asleep, his arms wrapped around Kelso's chest.

Kelso sat up, gently moving Eric's arms.

Eric shifted around, still asleep. Kelso sat on the edge of the couch, staring at the turntable. He picked up the record, reading the label.

Journey. Evolution. He'd have to see about buying a copy from the record store.

He looked beside the couch, finding his clothes in a pile with Eric's. He stood up, started to gather his clothes.

He put them back down again. What the hell, why not. Kitty and Red were at a funeral in Miami and wouldn't be back for two days. He locked the basement door, returned to the couch and slid back under the afghan that Eric had pulled over them afterwards. He kissed Eric softly, not wanting to wake him.

And he remembered what Eric had said, after it was all done. It wasn't so much a whisper as a breath, really.

"No regrets, Michael."


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