A Hotter Touch, A Better F... Than Any Girl You'll Ever Meet

Chapter 1

I reached behind him, closing and locking the door before I gathered him into a tight embrace.

He stood stiffly for a moment, but finally gave up, put his arms around me and burying his face in the crook of my neck. He was still making crying sounds although not really sobbing and the shoulder of my hoodie was getting wet. "I'm sorry," he choked out, voice breaking. "I really didn't mean for it to happen, Ry-Ry."

I stroked his back soothingly, my insides aching from the pain and regret in his voice. "It's alright, Bren, seriously it is," I muttered, lying to him through my teeth for what would be the first time of many that night. Him being gay was alright, him having feelings for me was something I wasn't okay with in the least, but I'd already let go of any regard for my own feelings for the night. What I felt and thought and wanted and didn't want didn't matter tonight.

When I felt that he'd calmed enough I slowly moved my hands from his back and up to his face, cupping his cheeks as I moved it closer to me.

His eyes stared at me, curious and shocked; expecting, wanting, needing something from me. Then they closed.

I took a deep breath and gave him the something. I pressed my lips against his, moving only slightly. How do girls constantly kiss guys? Especially guys who aren't responding?

He pulled away slightly, one of his hands dropping to rest on my hip, the other running through my hair carefully. His eyes were bloodshot from crying but wide open in shock. "But Ry..." He bit his lip slightly. "You're straight."

Not that I needed an actual reminder. The thoughts and feelings shooting through my head while kissing a guy was more than enough to assure me that I was as straight as a ruler. Instead of agreeing with him, though, I merely shrugged and let my lips form what I deemed a reassuring smile before plunging them against his again.

This time he did respond, hand fisting in my hair as if to force me to stay where I was. It didn't take long before his tongue was running across my lower lip, begging for entrance.

I opened my mouth just slightly, feeling extremely grateful for the previously consumed alcohol as his tongue crawled into my mouth, exploring, battling my own for what seemed to be an eternity before we broke apart, the both of us gasping for air. And there it was, slowly forming; the smile that had been absent from Brendon's face for months and made it all worth it. He was happy again and that was all that mattered.

"I love you," he whispered lowly.

"I love you too," I returned, not even lying this time. I mean... come on, I loved him. I think I've already stated that before. Not exactly this kind of love, but love none the less.

He apparently took that as a kind of permission and attacked my lips again. This time it was with more force and this time he was in complete control. It was like I was just along for the ride so I dropped my hands from his cheeks, letting them fall to his shoulders. I was completely unsure of what to do with them. Brendon, on the other hand, seemed to know exactly what to do with his as the one on my hips moved up a bit, pushed under my zip-up and started carressing the skin of my lower stomach.

I felt myself tense up at the touch, his cold, lightly calloused fingers tracing patterns that seemed to be going lower and lower with every second. I forced myself to relax into his touch, to make it seem like I wanted this as much as he did. This was extreme acting if such a thing had ever existed.

Finally the other hand dropped from my hair, which must have been ruffled as a hay stack by then. This hand joined the other at the hem of my hoodie and he broke the kiss to rid me of both it and the t-shirt underneath it in one swift take.