I'm just a painter and I'm drawing a blank

Kissing Lessons [4]

2007-05-30T02:53:34Z

Title: Kissing Lessons [4]
Pairing: Ryan/ Brendon (no points for originality there, huh?)
Rating: This chapter: pg-13 for the eff-bomb Overall: NC-17
Summary: Brendon is uncomfortable with kissing people (mainly because he's never done it before) and he enlists Ryan's aid.
Disclaimer: This post reflects my thoughts and opinions. It does not reflect the thoughts or opinions of my mom, my dad, my fish, my dogs (if I had one and I do not), my car, or my computer. Not liable for damages due to misuse. No purchase necessary. Has been shown to cause cancer in laboratory animals. Action figures sold separately.
Notes: Ryan finally appears in this one! *happy dance* comments=love

1) This is a sticky situation
2) All up in my Kool-Aide
3) Cyber-smooches and flightless birds

Sunday, April 13, 2003

“Brendon, sweetie, wake up,” my mother’s gentle voice cut through the soft blackness of my dreams. “It’s time to get ready for church, honey.” Trusting me to find my way out of bed myself, she left my room and closed the door softly behind her.

I was just about to drift back into sleep when my door flung open and slammed into the wall with a loud bang. With a start, I sat straight up in bed to the sound of my sister’s ringing laughter. “That’s not funny, Analise,” I groaned.

“Oh, but Brendon,” she giggled, “you don’t understand. It is very funny. Maybe not to you, but it is to me, which is what counts.”

“What do you want?”

“To get you up for church. If you don’t get up now, you won’t have time to jack off in the shower, and I won’t help you get ready for your meeting with loverboy today.”

“I don’t ja-” I started indignantly.

“Yes you do. Don’t lie.”

I groaned, running my hands down my face. “How do you know that he’s coming today?”

“You left your IM open.” She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“And you read it?!” I asked incredulously.

She shrugged. “Be glad mom and dad didn’t find it. And really, I was just closing it, but I couldn’t help but see.”

“Bet you could’ve,” I muttered.

“Shower. Now.”

“He cyber-smooched me,” I said randomly.

She answered, “I know. I saw. How cute. Go shower.”

Deciding that it was easier not to argue, I nodded, grabbed my “church clothes” and a towel, and disappeared into the bathroom.

I pulled the shower curtain open and stepped into the warm spray, sighing as I felt yesterday’s germs fall off me in multitudes. I washed my body, paying careful attention to my lower stomach and inner thighs, before rinsing off the suds and starting with my hair. I wanted my hair to perfect and shiny like in all those Suave commercials. I had to look perfect for Ryan.

Ryan.

I groaned a little, just at the thought of him, and quickly rinsed the frothy conditioner out of my hair. Standing against the back wall of the shower, so the water just barely splashed my chest, I reached down and took hold of my flaccid cock.

Immediately, I felt it grow and harden in my hand, as I gently stroked with my right hand, and fondled the head with my left. I knew I needed to hurry, it would be time to leave soon.

Picking up the pace a little, I gripped myself firmly, pumping steadily while running my thumb over the slit every so often. Unbidden, but not unwelcome, Ryan’s picture squeezed into my mind.

I imagined the way his pale skin would feel under my fingertips, how his lips would feel pressed against mine. I sped up, my breath coming in short gasps. How his hand would feel wrapped around my-

With a gasp and a moan, I came all over my hand and the slick floor of the shower. I was almost embarrassed at how quickly the thought of him got me off and I watched as the milky white fluid got washed down the drain. I raised my hand up and rinsed it off. After catching my breath, I turned the shower off and stepped out of the shower.

Toweling myself dry, I wiped off the fogged up mirror and took a look at my appearance. My hair was wet and plastered to my head, my face was relatively clear, not near as much acne as had been there a couple years ago. My teeth were straight, I’d gotten my braces off a few months prior, though I still had to wear a retainer.

I toweled my hair next, leaving it more than slightly damp. After struggling into my dress pants, polo shirt, and tie, I blow dried my hair with An’s blow-drier, and applied just enough of her eyeliner that my parents wouldn’t notice.

We arrived at the church, and sat down at the pew we always sit in. No one has quote “assigned seats” here, but everyone always sit in the exact same spot. We don’t have to worry about visitors because we don’t get them. The service started with the acolytes lighting the candles in the front, and the reverend welcoming us all to church. Then we stood and sang a number of hymns before the sermon started.

I was able to control myself during the hymns because I love singing, and even thought I didn’t necessarily believe what I was singing, I still enjoyed the flow of words and melodies issuing from my mouth. The sermon was a whole different story.

An and I sit between our mother and father. Starting from the left we’re seated: Dad, me, An, Mom. I think there’s a reason why I’m seated next to Dad. I have a fidgeting problem, and today was no exception. In fact, it was worse. I couldn’t keep still; anticipation and anxiousness were causing the butterflies in my stomach to feel like they were either doing gymnastics or playing dodge ball.

Every time I started to squirm, my dad would grip my knee, hard, and I’d stop immediately. Then I’d start up again, and the knee-gripping would start all over. A vicious circle.

When we got home from church, it was about 1:30. My parents had decided that they wanted to eat out today and I couldn’t very well tell them why I wanted to get home as soon as possible.

As soon as the front door opened, I flew up to my room and began to rummage through my closet. Analise followed me at a more reasonable pace. “Here,” she said, “just wear the clothes me and the Emu got you.”

“I’m not sure that-”

“Your ass will fit, Brendon.”

“How do you-”

“I tried them on myself.”

“Oh.”

An and I are built alike; we both inherited our mother’s body type (small waist, wide hips, and full ass) so whenever we buy pants for each other, we just try them on to make sure they fit, and if they fit one of us, they fit the other. We used to be able to do that with shirts too, but An filled out and the shirts that fit me would crush her poor chest.

But enough with my twin sister endowments. She shoved the clothes into my hands and left the room, calling back to me that, “As soon as you change, come out so I can do you make-up and hair.”

“But I already did them this morning,” I argued through the closed door.

“I know,” she said, “which is why I’m going to do them.”

I huffed, but didn’t respond. I might never tell her this to her face, but An is amazing at make-up and hair beatifying and such. And if I didn’t reap the benefits of her gifts so often, I’d be jealous.

I pulled my white polo over my head and discarded it on the floor. Inspecting myself in the mirror, I wriggled out of my dress slacks and looked at my boxer-clad reflection. I wasn’t anything special. My hips jutted out nicely from the tops of my boxers. I had an alright torso, a little bit of muscle visible under my skin. All in all, I thought my body was satisfactory, but nothing to get excited about.

I turned from the mirror and struggled into my clothes. The shirt pulled nicely across my chest and stomach, hugging my slight curves. The pants clung to my ass, accentuating it without being obnoxiously obvious.

“An!” I hollered.

“What?” I heard right outside my door. Hadn’t she moved at all while I was checking myself out?

“What shoes should I wear?”

“Your red and black checkered Vans, to match your glasses,” she told me matter-of-factly.

“An, those are yours,” I informed her. “They don’t fit my feet. I’ve got big feet you know.”

“Oops,” she giggled. “I knew that. I was just seeing if you did.”

I chuckled. “Of course you knew. But seriously, what shoes should I wear?”

“Um, just wear the black Vans with the flamingoes on them.”

I pulled on some socks and slipped the suggested shoes onto my feet.

“You ready to see my outfit?” I called.

“I’ve been waiting with baited breath, my dear brother.” I could literally hear her eyes roll.

“Right, well whatever,” I retaliated. Great comeback, Brendon, I thought to myself. “I’m coming out.”

I quickly swung the door open, intending to surprise her, but instead the hinged piece of wood collided with her face. She sunk to the floor, clutching her nose. “Owww,” she moaned. “God, Bren this hurts! I think you broke my nose, it’s bleeding!”

“Ohmygosh An I’m so sorry! Do you want me to get Mom? Do you want some ice? Or a washcloth?” I started to panic. What if she wasn’t ok? What if she bled to death? What if, what if, what if.

While I was busy freaking out, she stood up and punched me hard in the shoulder. “Ow! What the fuck?”

She smiled sweetly at me. “Oh sorry. Did I hit you? Gosh, I didn’t mean to. I guess my fist was just moving a little to fast.”

“Haha, you’re so funny,” I said sarcastically. “Hey! Your nose isn’t bleeding! You little liar!”

“Haha, yeah,” she shrugged. “Maybe I did exaggerate a little bit.”

“Exaggerate?” I asked incredulously. “That was a downright lie.”

“It was not!” she countered defensively. “It hurt a whole lot.” She pouted at me, putting on her best puppy dog eyes.

I rolled my eyes and pointed at myself, “Urie. Immune, remember?”

“What the fuck ever,” she huffed. “Just get in the bathroom so I can fix you up. We’ve only got, like, fifteen minutes.”

I rushed to the bathroom, with her at my heels. “Sit down on the toilet,” she commanded. I flipped down the lid and did as I was told. She began to open drawers and take out items that would be essential to my appearance for my “date”.

“Close your eyes.” I did. She removed the eyeliner I’d put on earlier, and instead heavily lined my dark eyes with a smoky black eye-shadow.

“Eye-shadow as eyeliner?” I inquired, not without a hint of are you stupid? laced through my words. She didn’t fail to recognize the underlying sentiment.

“Yes. I know exactly what I’m doing. Now shut up. You do what I tell you to, and you don’t talk.”

I’m usually pretty good at following direction, especially when they benefit me directly, so I kept my mouth shut, for once in my life.

She told me to open my eyes so she could give the same treatment to my lower lids. I’ve never really been good with having people’s hands close to my eyes, so I stared at the ceiling while the administered the eyelinershadow. While looking at the white plaster ceiling, I noticed that there were faint blue smears on the ceiling.

“An, did you steal my silly putty and throw it at the ceiling in here?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course not!” she said quickly. “Now be quiet, like I told you.”

With a shrug and a knowing, almost mocking, smile, and closed my mouth. She finished up my eyes and dabbed some concealer on the more obvious pimples. Picking up a tube of clear lip gloss, she applied some to my lips. “As soon as he gets here I’m going to wipe that off. It’ll pull off the dead skin. Kissing someone who’s wearing lip gloss feels weird.”

I arched an eyebrow. “How would you know about kissing someone that’s got lip gloss on, Analise?”

She turned fire-truck red in an instant. “I wouldn’t. I mean I don’t. I’ve heard that it feels weird, God. It’s not like I’ve been kissing girls wearing lip gloss.”

“Whoa, An, ok alright!” I held my hands up in the sign for ‘surrender’. “I didn’t say anything about girls. You just incriminated yourself. I wasn’t accusing you of anything!”

She ignored and ran a brush through my hair, tugging on it rather unnecessarily I thought annoyed. She did a good job with it though. Squirting some mousse into her hand, she threaded it through my hair giving me the ‘I-didn’t-really-just-get-out-bed-but-I’ll-style-my-hair-so-you-think-I-did look’. She finished up and placed her hands on her hips, obviously awaiting my thanks and praise.

She wouldn’t be disappointed. “Thank you so much, An. This looks really good. Like I really feel ready to meet this guy you know? I mean I’m nervous and all, but at least I don’t have to worry about the way I look. Thanks to you.”

She smiled warmly at me. It was nice to get a real, genuine smile out of her every once in while. “I’m glad you like. But you owe me though. You owe me big time.”

I laughed. “Yeah, I know. Just name your reward.”

She shrugged. “I’ll think of it later.”

At that moment, the doorbell chose to ring. She grinned at me and pecked my cheek. “Go get ‘em tiger.” And she practically shoved me out of the bathroom door.

“I got it!” I called to whomever may have been going to answer the door. I scrambled down the steps and flew to the front door, to find my mother already conversing with the most gorgeous boy in the universe.

“Uh, hey,” I said awkwardly, stepping up beside her. “This is Ryan.” I kicked myself. I hadn’t meant for him to even come in contact with my parents; I should’ve been better prepared.

“He’s already introduced himself,” she smiled kindly at him before looking at me with confusion in her eyes.

“Ryan came over to, uh, help me study for my Trig exam in Mr. Burke’s class. I’ve been struggling these past couple of weeks.”

“Oh, that’s just wonderful. That was very kind of you, Ryan.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he smiled charmingly at her. He shot an accusing look at me and I was taken aback. “Brendon, why didn’t you tell me you had a sister?” I looked around, expecting to seen An lurking around, eavesdropping. When I came upon no such sight, I looked at him blankly.

“This lovely young lady right here,” he gestured at my mother, and gave her another award-winning smile. Her face turned pink and I explained that she was my mother.

He turned toward me with blatant disbelief in his eyes. “I don’t believe it! Why you’re not a day over thirty!” I had the feeling that if he didn’t think it’d be pushing it, that he would’ve kissed her hand.

“Oh, you flatter me! Shame on you,” she gushed. “You boys go up and study, I’ll leave you be.”

“Thanks mom.”

“Yes, thank you Mrs. Urie. You’re an excellent hostess.”

Beaming at him, she shooed us away in the direction of my room. “Come on,” I said. “My room is this way.”

We entered my room and I quickly tossed my clothes that had been discarded earlier into my laundry hamper.

“So, um, have a seat,” I motioned to the ledge at the foot of my bed. Gracefully, he sat down and crossed his legs comfortably. It was obvious that he was more comfortable in my own home than I was right now.

I mimicked him and sat down beside him, about a foot or so away. He gazed at me for what seemed like forever without a word. I was seconds away from beginning to squirm under his calm stare when he spoke. “You know, to be honest, I was a little bit worried about how you would look when I met you.” I gulped and nodded, unsure as to where this was going. “But there wasn’t really any reason to worry. I’m impressed.” I shakily let out a breath that I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

Gingerly, he lifted my hand that had been resting on my lap and brought it to his lips, his honey eyes looking up at me through his lashes.

Kissing Lessons 3/? (Formerly: Is It Supoosed to Feel that Good)

2007-05-24T02:05:06Z

Title: Kissing Lesson 3/? (Formerly: Is IT Supposed to Feel that Good)
Pairing: Ryden (no points for originality there, huh?)
Rating: pg for this chapter, but nc-17 later on
Summary: Brendon gets put in a sticky situation, and is saved in the nick of time. He's left feeling thoroughly insecure, and decides to do something about it.
Disclaimer: If this was real, I wouldn't be writing it ~~i'd be filming it~~. not real. promise.
Notes: I won't be able to update until next Monday or Tuesday, my weekend is going to be really busy what with my brother graduating and me having a ballet recital. Comments = love.

April 12, 2003

I gaped at the picture on my screen. The boy was gorgeous. Something nagged at the back of my mind though. He looked so young and innocent, despite the fact the he was half-naked. Could this boy really teach me how to kiss? I read his information.

Name: Ryan Ross

Birthday: 8/30/86

Instruction type: Free

AIM: PoiseAndRationality

LiveJournal: hintof_asbestos

Email: BlinkLivesOn_82

Please choose Accept or Get New Instructor to continue.

No address or phone number was given. I glanced at my twin. “What do you think?” I asked. “Accept?”

“God, yes,” she breathed. “Accept, accept, accept!”

“Calm down, geez. I know he’s like, the sexiest thing on earth, but calm down!”

“I’m sorry, but oh my God, that almost makes me wish that I was the homo here.”

I rolled my eyes, and clicked accept.

“Thank you for accepting your instructor,” the page read. “Your information will be sent momentarily. Please contact your instructor through their Instant Messaging system, or their email.”

“Analiiiiiiise!” my mom’s voice rang from downstairs.

“Whaaaat?” she hollered back.

“Please come downstairs! Your friends are waiting!”

“Yes ma’am!” She got up an exited my room, but without letting me know that I was a “lucky bastard.”

I sat still for a few minutes, just staring at the computer screen. What if he didn’t want to teach me? What if I was too ugly for him? I couldn’t bear the thought. I signed into AIM, and added him to my Buddy List.

PoiseAndRationality has just signed on.

BrenIsORIGINAL: Hi. =)

PoiseAndRationality: hey who’s this?

BrenIsORIGINAL: Uhm. This is Brendon.

PoiseAndRationality: ?

BrenIsORIGINAL: For like the kissing thing you know?

PoiseAndRationality: oh. Lol ok h/o. lemme check my email real quick.

BrenIsORIGINAL: k.

With baited breath, I waited for him to IM me.

PoiseAndRationality: alright. You sound cool enough. Happy b-day btw.

BrenIsORIGINAL: thanks.

PoiseAndRationality: so what school do you go to?

BrenIsORIGINAL: Palo Verde High… you?

PoiseAndRationality: Bishop Gorman

BrenIsORIGINAL: cool.

PoiseAndRationality: not really. But how do you wanna do this?

PoiseAndRationality: I’ll explain my terms and conditions once we got a meeting place, k?

BrenIsORIGINAL: alright… where do you wanna meet?

PoiseAndRationality: I don’t care. Ur place my place, wherever.

BrenIsORIGINAL: oh ok. How about my place? I cant drive… =(

PoiseAndRationality: lol ok. What day? How bout tomorrow at say… 11?

BrenIsORIGINAL: um… can we make it like tomorrow at like 2 or 3 instead? I hafta go to church…

PoiseAndRationality: church?

BrenIsORIGINAL: uh yeah. I’m a Mormon

PoiseAndRationality: um, forgive me for being a bit forward but… don’t mormons typically look down on homosexuality

BrenIsORIGINAL: yeah. My parents don’t know.

PoiseAndRationality: ok. So I’m dealing with a closet case.

I felt a twinge of anger. Who was he to judge me?

PoiseAndRationality: I don’t care or anything. I just need to know these things.

BrenIsORIGINAL: right. Do you need directions?

PoiseAndRationality: nah, I can find it. Ur place isn’t too far from mine. C u tomorrow, I g2g.

BrenIsORIGINAL: ok, bye.

PoiseAndRationality: *smooch*

PoiseAndRationality has just signed off.
BrenIsORIGINAL has just signed off.

I collapsed back onto my bed, my ass still situated on the ledge, and let out a breath that I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. My heart was pounding and I was breathing shakily. I was going to meet the hottest boy on earth tomorrow!

“Brendon, supper!” my dad yelled from downstairs.

“Coming momentarily!” I nipped into the bathroom to splash my face with some water so it wouldn’t be all red a blotchy-like from not breathing enough, and blushing too much.

I rushed downstairs and slid into my seat just as the food was brought out. Analise had invited some friends to spend the night, and that also meant, of course, staying for dinner. I noticed with some satisfaction that Tara was not among the ‘favored friends.’ An was across from me, and seated next to her was Rachelle. I was placed beside a petite Indian girl, Wendy, I think her name was. Mom and Dad’s places were at the head and foot of the table.

My mother placed the vegetarian lasagna in front of my sister and I, along with dinner rolls, celery sticks, and baby carrots. She always fixes our favorite meal on our birthday, and this was no exception. I could feel my mouth watering.

Everyone’s drink order was taken, and my mom went back into the kitchen to produce our preferred beverage. She came back with a tray of drinks. She placed skim milk in front of An and I, water for herself, Wendy and Rachelle, and a bourbon and coke for my dad.

In our house, guests are always served first, so Wendy and Rachelle got the first servings. Analise and I came next, then Dad, and Mom came last. “Brendon would you like to say grace?” mom asked me.

I nodded. Everyone folded their hands and bowed their heads. I took a deep breath like I was going to start a long winded prayer. “Grace. Amen.”

I received a dirty look from my father, but everyone else took it in good humor so he let it slide. Just this once.

Once the main course is served, and the prayer said, all other food is up for grabs, as long as everyone’s had at least one. I snitched two dinner rolls, more than my fair share of baby carrots, and a few pieces of celery. The perfect vegetarian. I beamed to myself and gave myself an imaginary pat on the back.

Mom asked Analise to introduce her friends. “Mom, Dad, this is Rachelle,” she motioned to the blond who smiled politely at the two, “And this is Awendela, but we call her Wendy.”

“Well it’s very nice to meet you both,” my mother said kindly, and my father nodded in agreement.

I had finished one roll and was halfway through my lasagna when the doorbell rang. My heart leapt into my throat. Had Ryan come early? “Brendon, please go answer the door,” my father requested. I got up from the table and went to the front door.

I could see a large figure through the frosted glass, and I was pretty sure that Ryan wasn’t that big. I turned the knob, and with a groan of protest, the door opened. My face changed from surprised to ecstatic in a matter of two seconds.

“An! Come quick!” I shouted, “It’s the Emu!”

I was thrown over a broad shoulder by a strong pair of arms. I could see An getting the same treatment as she ran, giggling into the front foyer.

My mother and father came into the room, followed hesitantly by our two guests. “Matthew, put your siblings down,” my father ordered sternly, but I could see that he was bordering on laughter himself.

“Aw Pops,” our oldest brother complained. “I just wanted to pay Twin A and Twin B a surprise visit on their birthday.” He did, however, set us down, making sure we were both steady on our feet before letting go. “So,” he grinned at mom, “Got enough food left for a hungry stranger?”

“For a stranger, no,” she answered, “but for you, I might be able to whip something up.”

“Excellent! Thanks Ma.” he gave her a peck on the cheek before turning his attention back to us.

“So, happy birthday squirts.”

We rolled our eyes. “Thanks.”

Wendy, who was standing beside me, tapped my shoulder. I looked at her and raised my eyebrows. “Yeah?”

“Why do you call him Emu?” she asked. I liked her voice. It was exotic, strong and lilting.

“Oh,” I laughed. “Those are his initials. See, his full name is Edward Matthew Urie, and apparently my parents thought it’d be great fun to make their eldest son’s initials into a large flightless bird.”

I looked at my brother and grinned. He punched my shoulder. “You’re just jealous because they love me more.”

“Kids! Dinner!” mom shouted from the dining room. We all scurried into the dining room, not wanting our food to lose any more heat.

Another chair had been placed next to Analise, and Matt slid into it.

“So Matt?,” my sister asked. “How is Caroline doing?” Caroline is Matt’s wife. They’ve been married for almost two years.

“She’s doing great. She wanted to come, but her friend’s mom got sick, so she decided to go keep her company.”

“That was really nice of her,” Rachelle commented kindly.

Matt sighed dreamily. “Yeah. She’s a really great person.” It was easy to look at him and see how in love he was. It made my toes tingle a little to see a person so enamored with someone else. I guess I’m a hopeless romantic at heart.

Dinner passed with no further interruptions and polite small talk. We learned about what Matt was doing to support he and his wife, how they were trying to get pregnant, about Wendy’s namesake and what tribe her great grandfather had been in, and other interesting yet relatively useless topics.

Time flew, and before I knew it, it was time to open presents and eat cake. We’d eaten cake and opened presents earlier today with all our friends, but this was family time, along with two special guests, of course.

I opened my four presents from mom and dad, one from Matt, and one from Analise. From my parents I received a BestBuy gift card for $20, a lavender hoodie (I swear sometimes I think they know I’m gay), a set of charcoal and drawing pencils, and a small case of guitar picks. Matt got me a shirt with Jack Skellington on the front (I noticed with satisfaction that it would be skintight), and Analise gave me a pair of tight-tight skinny jeans (I wasn‘t quite sure I’d be able to fit my ass in them).

Analise received a $20 gift card just like me, a pair of black and white checkered Vans, a stuffed tiger (she collects tigers), and a new bow for her violin. From Matt she got a lot of sheet music (she loves playing the violin), and I gave her a Fall Out Boy poster (for my benefit as much as hers. I spend a lot of time in her room).

We stuffed ourselves silly with cake once presents were opened, and I decided it was time to call it quits. I told everyone goodnight, gave a hug and a peck on the cheek to my family, and a friendly wave to Wendy and Rachelle.

Exhausted, I fell onto my bed, without changing or even taking off my shoes. I was asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow.

Is It Supposed to Feel That Good? 2/?

2007-05-20T18:55:27Z

Title: Is It Supposed to Feel That Good? 2/?
Pairing: Ryden (no points for originality there, huh?)
Rating: pg for this chapter, but nc-17 later on
Summary: Brendon gets put in a sticky situation, and is saved in the nick of time. He's left feeling thoroughly insecure, and decides to do something about it.
Disclaimer: If this was real, I wouldn't be writing it ~~i'd be filming it~~. not real. promise.
Notes: I'm thinking about changing the name to Kissing Lessons, but tell me what you think. Comments are love.

April 12, 2003

The homepage loaded and it gave me the choice of a free or paid lesson. I clicked free, and a new page opened. The heading read, “Tell Us About Yourself.” I filled out the form to the best of my ability.

Name: Brendon Urie
I am a: Male
Seeking a: Male
Birthday: 4/12/87
State (if not in US select country or providence): Nevada
City: Las Vegas

Apart from those six things, all it asked for were my zip and area codes, address, phone number, and email. When I had finished, I clicked the next button at the bottom of the page.

“Thank you for completing the Kissing Lessons information sheet. Your instructor’s information will be emailed to you in a few minutes. If you accept, your information will be sent to the instructor. If you are not satisfied, please select ‘Get New Instructor’ on the email form.”

Just as I was about to check my email, Analise barged through my closed bedroom door (without knocking of course), and I snapped my laptop shut just as she strode over to where I was sitting.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

She rolled her dark brown eyes at me, “What a wonderful and kind way to greet the lovely sister who just saved your ass.”

“Well,” I said placatingly, “you did just save my ass. But lovely? I’m not so sure.”

With an ill-concealed howl of laughter, she tackled me off of the stool I’d been sitting on and onto the floor, tickling me mercilessly. I shrieked and tried to throw her off but she wouldn’t budge, and her fingers wouldn’t stop attacking my sides.

“I jest! I jest!” I cried. “Stop!”

She did stop, and looked down at me for a second. “Since when does anybody say ‘jest’?” she asked.

I merely shrugged. “It seemed appropriate at the time.” She stayed silent and contemplative for a moment, before suddenly attacking me again, her nimble fingers tickling anywhere she could reach.

“A-An! Analise! Ok, ok!,” I screamed. “MERCY!” With a grin, she stopped and rolled off of me. “Jesus, woman. You just turned seventeen, be a little mature.”

She stuck out her tongue in reply.

After catching our breath, we both picked ourselves off the floor and I flopped onto my bed, while she perched on the ledge at the foot of it, admittedly with a little more grace than I’d exhibited.

“Sooo,” she said.

I waited for her to start talking. She didn’t.

“Sooo what?” I prodded.

“So I saved your from kissing Rachelle, huh?” she questioned smugly.

“Yes, Analise.”

“Don’t you have something you want to say to me?”

I rolled my eyes and gave a long-suffering sigh. “Thank you, Analise. You’re wonderful, Analise. I’m eternally indebted to you, Analise. Get the fuck out of my room, Analise.”

She shook her head and tsk-ed at me.

“Temper, temper,” she chided me.

“You know, I would so get up and go blitzkrieg on your ass, but my bet is for real comfy, and I’m def not getting up,” I told her.

“Speak like English is your first language and not, like, hipster, or German, or whatever it is that you’re speaking.”

“But I am a hipster,” I whined.

“No you’re not.”

“Am so.”

“No you’re not, you’re a little emo fag.”

I glowered and pouted at her. “I’m not emo, and I’m not a fag,” I said sullenly.

“The world-famous Urie pout doesn’t affect me, Brenny-boy. I’m a Urie, too, remember?” she teased.

I groaned and rolled over, so I was laying face down in my pillow. I grumbled something at her, and she leaned closer to hear.

“What was that? Was that ‘fuck you’, or ‘go away’? I’m not quite fluent in Neanderthal yet.”

I pitched a temper tantrum inside my head before rolling back over and snapping, “It was both. And don’t call me Brenny-boy, you know I don’t like it.” the last part ended in a whine that was more pathetic sounding than I’d have liked to admit.

“So what were you doing on your computer? You sure closed it pretty fast.” she asked curiously. I noticed that she didn’t say anything more about being an ‘emo fag’. I was grateful; even though I knew she was kidding, I’d been called that enough by people who weren’t that the word still stung.

“Oh. That? Nothing, really. Where are your friends? They didn’t leave did they? Haven’t you been in here awhile? Don’t you think they miss you downstairs?” I rambled, trying to get her mind off of the subject of my computer, and I could’ve kicked myself, because now she knew that something was up.

She ignored my questions. “It was nothing, huh?” she asked. I nodded mutely. “So you won’t mind if I,” she reached toward the laptop, “take a look, right?”

“No!” I shouted, sitting up quickly. “I mean, yes, I mind. It’s none of your business!” My protests were in vain; she was already flipping it open, and went momentarily slack-jawed before her lips curled into a wide, taunting grin.

“Kissing lessons?!” she squealed. I groaned and fell back onto my pillows, not offering an answer. “Brendon Boyd, you’re going to get kissing lessons?!”

“Abigail Analise, yes I am going to get kissing instructions, and from a very cute boy no less.”

“Really?” she looked at me. I nodded. “Because it says here that ‘your instructor’s information will be emailed to you’ and unless I’m very much mistaken, you haven’t checked it yet.”

“You’re right,” I muttered, defeated.

She stayed quiet and thoughtful, almost pensive, for a moment before, “Brendon.” Her tone was serious, and her eyes held no glint of playfulness. “That thing with Rachelle really upset you didn’t it?”

I heaved a sigh. “Yeah. Well, I mean, it wouldn’t have, but everyone was watching, and I didn’t know what to do. And besides, she’s a girl. I mean, she’s pretty and all, but…y’know. I’m just not into girls. I wanted my first kiss to be special.”

She scooted back along my bed until she was sitting next to me, the gentle waves from my bed rocking us both. She helped me up into a sitting position, and I leaned into her comforting embrace.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? Like you said before, you saved me.”

“I know, but, I should’ve been there the whole time, to make sure nothing could’ve even started. I should‘ve known that Tara would start something like that as soon as I‘d left.”

“An, it’s not like you’re my guardian angel or anything.”

“But you’re my little brother, I’m supposed to protect you.”

“Analise, you’re older by two minutes, that does not qualify me as being your little brother. I am glad you were born first though, otherwise I’d be, like, Adam Abraham.”

She coughed and looked at me. “Adam Abraham? What kind of a name is that?”

I shrugged. “I dunno, but I asked Mom what her and Dad would’ve named me if I’d been first, and that’s what she said.”

She sighed. “Oh well. Be thankful for what we’ve got I guess. I must say I’m glad I didn’t get landed with the name Boyd, though.”

I pinched her arm and she flinched and drew back. “I was named after Grandpa Boyd! I should be proud to have such a strong namesake.”

“Is that what Dad told you when you were complaining about having it?”

I grinned sheepishly. “Yeah.”

“But you know, I bet you both looked alike when you were born. Both bald, toothless, and wearing diapers.”

At that, we both cracked up, leaning on each other for support, and somehow, Analise ended up on the floor banging her fists against the cream colored carpet, shrieking with uncontrollable laughter. After some minutes, our laughter finally subsided, but was punctured with the occasional giggle as we tried to regain a regular breathing pattern.

“Do you-” we both started.

“I mean-”

“Stop that!”

“You go-”

“No you-”

“Fine I’ll-”

We both huffed and became silent. I motioned for her to speak.

“It sucks, you know, ‘cause you always know what I’m about to say,” she complained. “Do you wanna go see who your ‘mystery man’ is?”

I laughed. “I know, right? That is so exactly what I was about to say. Yes.”

So I crawled to the foot of my bed, and she got up from the floor and brushed herself off before walking over to sitting next to me. I clicked the “Home” button in the upper left hand corner of the screen and it brought me directly to the Yahoo homepage. The Mail tab said that I had one new mail, so I clicked it and waited anxiously as it opened.

When it had finally loaded all the way, I dared to look at it, and my breath caught in my throat.

Oh dear God.
:
I tried to make this as accurate as possible, I even looked up a 2003 calendar to get dates right. If I messed something up, please tell me.

Is It Supposed to Feel That Good? 1/?

2007-05-18T18:41:04Z

Title: Is It Supposed to Feel That Good? 1/?
Pairing: Ryden (no points for originality there, huh?)
Rating: pg for this chapter, but nc-17 later on
Summary: Brendon gets put in a sticky situation, and is saved in the nick of time. He's left feeling insecure though, so he decides to do something about it.
Disclaimer: If this was real, I wouldn't be writing it ~~i'd be filming it~~. not real. promise.
Notes: Seriously, if you don't like it please tell me. i don't want to fill up LJ with something nobosy wants. if you do like it, let me know! and i know this is really short, it gets longer.

“Brendon, truth or dare?” the petite red-head asked, her green eyes shining mischievously.

I gulped. Of course, the girls expected me to choose truth. Hell, I expected me to choose truth. That’s the only thing I’d chosen since we’d started the game.

“Dare,” I blurted. Some of the girls’ eyebrows raised. As did mine. I shifted on the pillow I was sitting on. “I-I mean truth.”

“Nope,” the red-head (what was her name? Sara? Farah? Tara? That’s it. Tara.) refused. “You have to go with your first choice.”

I sighed, resigned to my fate. “Alright, whatever. Just give me a dare, Tara.”

She rested her chin on her hand for a moment, thinking about how best to torture me, which allowed me a moment or so to figure out how I got into this mess in the first place.

“But Brendon!” my twin, Analise, whined, “I wanna have a party with spin-the-bottle, and truth or dare and stuff.” I rolled my eyes. “Knock yourself out. I’m just not playing.”
“But Brennnnn…”
“No!”
Usually, my sister and I get along pretty well. The day before our birthday, not so much.
I always want to have a party that she considers ‘lame’, like going to a coffee shop with one or two close friends, or staying at home playing video games with said friends. She always wants some huge extravagant birthday bash with all our friends, acquaintances, people we said hi to in the lunch line, and people we’ve never even spoken to in our lives. So we usually end up compromising.
“Fine,” she huffs. “But just you wait. You
And, of course, would you believe it, here I am playing. And there’s a reason that I always want only a few select friends at my parties. I only
will play.”have a few select friends. And today, only one could come, but he had to leave early due to some previously made commitment. So I’m sitting here with all my sister’s frien-

“I’ve got it!”

Most unwillingly, I snap out of my reverie into the reality of my sister’s bright yellow and purple room. I looked around. Analise wasn’t even in here. Oh Lord…

“Shoot,” I say nonchalantly, but my stomach is doing flip-flops, and I’m not sure if I’ll be able to keep my lunch down.

“I dare you to kiss Rachelle.”

I gape at her. For any other guy, it would’ve been a blessing. Rachelle was very pretty, with naturally wavy blonde hair, warm tanned skin, and a pretty face. I was almost positive that the five girls had discussed this while I was out-of-it, because for one, Rachelle wasn’t screaming her head off. She did look a bit queasy though (and with good reason. I‘m not the best-looking guy). Secondly, all the girls had identical smirks on their faces. Even if they didn’t know, I was sure that they all had theories about me being gay. They were right, of course, but I wasn’t about to give them the pleasure of outing me. I suppose they thought that if I kissed Rachelle, then I was straight, if I didn’t then I was gay.

I cleared my throat and turned to Rachelle who was sitting to my left. I’d never done this before. I squeezed my eyes shut and leaned in, hoping for the best. I cracked one eye open just as our lips were about to touch and prayed that something would interrupt us or that I could just sink into the floor.

“Brendon Boyd Urie!” a high, girly voice shrieked. I drew back instantly, back into my own personal space. “How many times have I told you NOT to make out with my friends!”

I mentally breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God for twin sisters. “Sorry An. Guess I got a little carried away.”

“It would seem so,” she said coldly. I turned to look at her. Inconspicuously, she winked at me. I suppressed a grin.

“Aw, Analise! We were just playing a harmless little game of truth or dare,” Tara whined.

Analise faked a laugh, and told them that she didn’t think my girlfriend would like it very much. I tried to look as if the fact that I had a girlfriend wasn’t news to me. She gave me a pointed look that, to her friends would’ve said ‘you should be ashamed of yourself’ , but to me it said ‘don’t worry, I’ve got your back.’

“Brendon, get out of my room. We’ll talk about this later,” she said menacingly.

“God, An, you’re such a bitch,” I spat, but I got up an exited her room. As I passed her, I whispered, “You’re a lifesaver,” into her ear. It could’ve been my imagination, but I could’ve sworn she said, “I know.”

Back in my room, away from all the giggling robots with too much make-up that my sister calls her friends, I hurled myself onto my bed, and lay staring at the ceiling, thinking. I was so relieved that I didn’t have to kiss the pretty little Rachelle. I was sure it would’ve felt wrong, and besides wanting my first kiss to be special, I was sure I’d be awful at it.

As I thought about it, I decided that I’d like some kissing tips so I wouldn’t completely suck when it came to actually getting my first kiss. I dragged myself on my queen size waterbed (sorry, can’t help it, I’m kind of a little bit rich), and went over to my Sony VAIO laptop. I logged in, and as soon as it was done “loading my settings” I was on Google.

I didn’t exactly know what keywords to use, so I typed in “kissing lessons.” The third link from the top caught my eye. It read, “Learn How to Kiss from a Professional” and the description under it said, “insecure about your kissing abilities? Learn from a free or paid professional now.”

Releasing my pride and gathering up my courage, I clicked on the link.

Nothing More than Internet Sex

2007-05-08T22:00:48Z

Title: Nothing More than Internet Sex (stand-alone)
Pairing: Ryatrick (i made that up myself ^_^)
Rating: R sounds about right....
Summary: Patrick misses Ryan, and Ryan's horny. What starts out as a bit of Toy Story (c) fun, turns into some hot and heavy almost boysex.
Disclaimer: The screennames belong to me. The plot belongs to me. Ryan, Patrick, and the Internet definitely do NOT.
A/N: I'm awesome. ;)

TurninTricks has just signed on.

Rydinxdrrty: PATRCIK!!!

Rydinxdrrty: PATRICK***

Rydinxdrrty: !!!

TurninTricks: lol, hey ry

Rydinxdrrty: don’t sound so excited, geez

TurninTricks: sorry, I didn’t have a real good day : (

Rydinxdrrty: aww, baby, I sowwy

Rydinxdrrty: what’s wrong???

TurninTricks: I didn’t get to see YOU :’(

Rydinxdrrty: you loser, that’s no reason to be sad!

TurninTricks: yuh-huuuuh

Rydinxdrrty: nuh-uhhhhhhh

TurninTricks: yuh-huuuuh

Rydinxdrrty: nuh-uh to infinity and beyond!

TurninTricks: whatever you say, buzz lightyear

Rydinxdrrty: NO

TurninTricks: ?

Rydinxdrrty: im WOODY

TurninTricks: lmao

Rydinxdrrty: what?

TurninTricks: nothing, lovely

Rydinxdrrty: tell meeeee

TurninTricks: no.

Rydinxdrrty: yesssssssssssssssssssss

TurninTricks: nope. I don’t think so.

Rydinxdrrty: pleeeeease

TurninTricks: :D NO

Rydinxdrrty: *pouts*

TurninTricks: *bites lip*

Rydinxdrrty: who’s lip??? Yours or mine?

TurninTricks: yours. ( way to ruin the moment jeez)

Rydinxdrrty: *moans* there was no “moment”

TurninTricks: *ignores*

TurninTricks: *bites neck*

Rydinxdrrty: whose?

TurninTricks: -_-

Rydinxdrrty: ok, ok sorry.

Rydinxdrrty: *whimper*

TurninTricks: *kiss* I swear to god if you ask who…

Rydinxdrrty: lol damn. You foiled my plans *kiss back*

Rydinxdrrty: *adds tongue*

TurninTricks: *deepens kiss*

Rydinxdrrty: *moans*

TurninTricks: what do you want now? *pants*

Rydinxdrrty: I dunno. Tell me what you want to do to me

TurninTricks has just signed off.

Rydinxdrrty: >: ((((((((((((((((((((

TurninTricks is no longer available
TurninTricks has just signed on.

Rydinxdrrty: you meanie what was that for???

Turnintricks: sorry, babe, my sister walked in

Rydinxdrrty: oh

Rydinxdrrty: now tell me what was so funny so I can get back to getting off

TurninTricks: it was just funny

Rydinxdrrty: WHAT was just funny?!?!?!

TurninTricks: just the whole woody thing….

TurninTricks: cuz you were like ‘im woody’ and I was gonna be like ‘wait you are woody, or you’ve got one?’

TurninTricks: and now its even funnier, cuz you’re actually horny

Rydinxdrrty: *eye roll* perv.

TurninTricks: *points to self* that’s me!

Rydinxdrrty: and how do you expect me not to be horny??? You were just about to have internet sex with me!

TurninTricks: how do you know? I haven’t told you what im gonna do…

Rydinxdrrty: then get on with it!!!!

TurninTricks: geez baby keep your pants on

Rydinxdrrty: I’d rather not…

TurninTricks: then hush so I can get started

Rydinxdrrty: *pouts*

TurninTricks: none of that now *pins your arms above your head*

Rydinxdrrty: *struggles*

TurninTricks: *straddles your hips*

TurninTricks: *bites ear lobe*

Rydinxdrrty: *gasps* *stops struggling*

TurninTricks: good boy. I suck on your neck and keeping your arms pinned with one hand, I slide the other hand under your shirt

Rydinxdrrty: no more ‘*’ thingies?? Ok um… I hook one of my legs behind yours and raise my hips up, pressing our forming erections together

TurninTricks: I release your neck; there’ll be a bruise there tomorrow and I gasp at the friction. I let go of your wrists to remove your shirt, and I lean down to kiss and nip my way down your chest

Rydinxdrrty: I run my newly freed hands through your hair and across you shoulders. Your mouth feels so good.

TurninTricks: I kiss and lick at your stomach while I fumble with the button of your jeans, finally managing to get it undone, and pull down your fly. I tug your jeans down your slender hips, and im not in the least bit surprised to find that you’re not wearing underwear

Rydinxdrrty: I kick my pants the rest of the way off, and pull you up for a frenzied kiss. I grind my naked erection against your clothed one shamelessly, desperate for contact. I quickly dispose of your shirt, exposing your pale milky torso.

TurninTricks: I reconnect our lips, and unfasten my belt, tossing it across the room. My runs across your lower lip, begging entrance

Rydinxdrrty: I open my mouth immediately, and my own tongue begins battling with yours. I cant help the tiny moans that erupt from my throat. I get your pants the rest of the way open and off, getting rid of your boxers as well. God, ‘trick I am so hard.

TurninTricks: me too. I wish I could really be doing all this to you.

Rydinxdrrty: you can! There’s no one else here right now. I need you. Hurry. I love you. So much.

TurninTricks: ill be there in 10. I love you too babe.
TurninTricks has just signed off.

Rydinxdrrty has just signed off.

______________________________
Comments are alwaysalwaysalways appreciated. i will love forever those who leave comment love. or even comment hate. just comment. or dont. whatever y'know.

I Promise {{standalone}}

2006-11-21T05:04:12Z

Title: I Promise
Rating: pg-13 for kissing and fluffiness
Pairing: Ryan and Brendon (P!atD)
Disclaimer: this is about as real as a living tyrannosaurus rex
A/N: i don't typically do fluff, so it won't be that great. bet, hey, i tried right?

I placed my hand on the beautiful boy’s face, cupping his cheek gently. His skin was warm and soft, just like I’d always imagined. My other hand went to his hip, pulling his body closer. His hands trailed slowly from my waist and up my chest to rest lightly on my shoulders, massaging gently. The lights were dim, casting shadows on his face. He looked ethereal; his soft brown hair falling gracefully into his face, his captivating honey-brown eyes locked with mine. My breathing became heavier and more labored as he moved closer, our bodies touching, and lips barely inches apart. “I love you, Brendon,” he whispered. My heart swelled with joy and I smiled. “I love you too, Ryan.” A smile graced his full pink lips and I felt the sudden urge to have them pressed against mine. I leaned forward, closing the small distance between us and -

“WAKE UP, MOTHERFUCKER!” Spencer screamed into my ear, bringing me from a sound sleep, to full alertness. I shrieked and sat up violently, knocking my head painfully on the tour bus’s ceiling. I clutched my head and groaned in agony, falling back onto my pillow. Spencer busted out laughing. After calming down a bit, he said, “The bus has stopped.” I gaped at him. You wake me up from the best dream I’ve ever had, at what would’ve been the best part to tell me we’re not MOVING?!?! I screamed at him telepathically. Yes I’m ~~psycho~~ psychic. I’m the shiznit. Fuck you.

“We’re staying at a hotel tonight,” he continued. Oh. “I guess I should get up then, huh?” I asked, hopping down from my bunk, still fully clothed. He nodded and moved to the bunk across from mine, where Ryan was still sleeping peacefully, unaware that he was about to be very rudely awakened. Spencer moved right next to Ryan’s ear opening his mouth to scream. “Wait,” I said suddenly. He turned to look at me incredulously, his mouth still slightly open. “Huh?” he said stupidly. “Don’t wake him up,” I told him. “And why not?” he asked me. I looked at Ryan. His face was relaxed and a small smile played on his lips. He looked so beautiful and innocent, an angel in disguise. I looked back up at Spencer, thinking of a reason. “You know how bitchy he gets when he’s woken up. And I’m rooming with him and I don’t want to have to deal with that.” He shrugged. “Whatever. You get to carry him then.” I tried to look upset. “You mean I have to carry my bag, and him all the way to our room?!” Heh. I’m a pretty good actor. He’s buying it. “It’s your call, man,” he said. “It’s either that or wake him up.” I sighed pathetically. “I’ll carry him,” I told Spencer. “Kay. Jon’s getting the keys to our rooms. Ours is 237 and yours is across from ours, room 238. I go ahead and unlock it for you.” he said. “Alright, thanks Spence.” He smiled. “No problem.” And he left the bus.

I grabbed my bag and shoved some random clothes in it along with my toothbrush and toothpaste. I grabbed some clothes for Ryan too, not wanting to carry two bags along with Ryan. I slung it over my shoulder and made my way to Ryan’s bunk. I pulled the sheets off of him, thankful that he didn’t have a top bunk. Oh my God. He’s only wearing boxers, I realized. I stared, unconsciously tracing a finger down the middle of his chest. He shifted and moaned softly. I blushed and picked him up bridal style, one hand on his bare back, the other just below his ass. He snuggled in closer, burying his face in my chest and wrapping his arms around my neck. I could get used to this. I walked out of the bus and into the hotel. I made my way through the brightly lit lobby to the elevators, earning myself and the still sleeping Ryan a look from the lady at the desk. I grinned at her and she looked away. Bitch. I pressed the button (with difficulty) to make the elevator doors open. After a few seconds, they opened. I stepped inside and pushed the button that had a 2 on it. We began moving up when Ryan gasped and looked up at me. At first I thought he’d woken up and was freaked out that I was holding him; but I looked at his eyes and they wide and unseeing, looking at something in his dream. The elevator dinged and the doors opened and I stepped out looking for our room. I looked down at Ryan again as he began shaking, terror written all over his face. “Ryan.” No response except frightened whimpering and more shaking. I found it. Room 238. It was unlocked just like Spencer promised. I walked in and shut the door, locking it. I decided to leave the lights off. I sat down on one of two double beds, keeping Ryan in my arms. I looked down at him as tears began to well up in his eyes, spilling over his cheeks. “Bren,” he whispered. “BRENDON NO!” Now he was sobbing into my chest and I began to panic. “Ryan! Ryan wake the fuck up! You’re having a nightmare! For the love of Pete Wentz, WAKE UP!” He blinked. Once, twice, three times. He’d stopped crying, thank heavens. He reached a hand up to stroke my face, before breaking down into tears again. I rubbed his back softly, whispering comforting words into his ear. It broke my heart to see him like this. “Ry, do you want to talk about it?” I asked. He shook his head no so I continued my comforting. “It was so real, Bren,” he said suddenly. I looked down at him, nodding for him to continue. “It was like you were there, and then you weren’t. It was so scary.” He whispered the last part, talking more to himself than to me. “It’s okay now.” I told him. “I’m here now, and I’m never going to leave you. Ever.” I rocked him like a mother rocks her child, as more tears cascaded down his alabaster cheeks.

Finally, the tears stopped and he looked up at me. My breath caught in my throat. He looked…there are no words for how heart-wrenchingly beautiful he looked. His eyes were all red and puffy and his nose was red, some tears still clinging to his cheeks. Unthinkingly, I leaned down, placing a chaste kiss to his lips. As soon as my brain registered what I was doing, I broke the kiss, stuttering out apologies. Ryan placed a finger to my lips and I was immediately silent. “It’s okay,” he said, and he leaned up to press his lips against mine again.

Somehow, I managed to get us in a laying down position on the bed without breaking the kiss. Ryan was laying on top of me, his legs on either side of mine. I wrapped one arm possessively around his waist, his skin silky smooth under my fingertips. The other hand I ran through his hair, loving how soft it was. He ran his tongue over my bottom lip, and I willingly opened my mouth, letting his tongue slide in, exploring every crevice. His hands fisted in my hair tugging gently and I couldn’t help but let out a quiet moan into his mouth. He smiled against my lips as our tongues got ‘acquainted’. His hands left my hair and went to my waist, sliding his hands under my shirt and running them up and down my chest, before lifting my shirt all the way up and pulling it over my head. I broke the kiss and pecked his lips again before saying, “Ryan, we really should get some sleep. We have a show to play tomorrow.” He grumbled a bit, but nodded, knowing I was right.

I pulled down the covers and slid under them, holding them up for Ryan to clamber in after me. He lay his head on my chest and I wrapped my arms around his waist. “Ryan, baby?” I said after a few minutes of just listening to him breathe. “Yeah, Bren?” he responded. I gulped, suddenly nervous. “Will you, uh, will you be my, um, my boyfriend?” I whispered the last word, half-hoping he wouldn’t hear it. He turned to look at me, beaming. “Of course I will. God, Bren, I love you so much. And now you’re mine.” He kissed me passionately, his hands framing my face. I held him close, my lips moving perfectly with his. I was kissing my boyfriend. I love the way that sounds. Boyfriend. Ryan Ross is my boyfriend. I was unable to stop the smile from creeping onto my lips. He broke the kiss and smiled too. “I love you too, baby. So much. You’re so beautiful.” He smiled even wider. “I know you are,” he said. I blushed and kissed his neck pulling him closer. I thought Ryan had fallen asleep when he said, “You promise you won’t leave me?” I kissed his forehead and whispered, “I promise.”

____________________________________________________

Constructive criticism is always welcome. I hope you enjoyed this.