A/N: This chapter has mature content, not that it'll stop you horny perverts from reading... ;)
Four months. That's how far along I am. For once this week the house is quiet, and Brandon's in the kitchen making his "killer pancakes". Mariana is off at dance practice, who knows where Jesus is. "Brandon," I whine as I walk into the kitchen. "I'm starving."
"Well, maybe you should learn how to control your appetite, or yell at Jude for eating the ones that were meant for you."
"It's your son," I tell him, correcting myself. "You're starving him. He wants two pancakes with extra chocolate chips. Besides, Jude isn't here anymore so I can't yell at him."
"For the millionth time, our daughter is not starving, you just think she is."
"Nope," I reply, poking him in the arm. "Your son also thinks you need to start working out again."
"Excuse me? I have plenty of muscle. Why do you think my pancakes are perfect?" Brandon asks, turning his attention back to the stove, and I wrap my arms around his waist, resting my forehead against his back. He doesn't even have to do anything, but I can tell he smiles. My hands wander under his shirt and he inhales sharply at my touch.
"You alright there, B?" I ask.
"I'm fine," He answers, turning around to face me, a smirk on his lips, pressing me against the table. "Completely fine." His hair is sexily messed up, and he runs his fingers through it again, almost in a teasing manner, before giving me a small cheeky smile, acting innocent.
I bite my bottom lip to stop myself from making a comment on it. My fingers trace over the muscles on his stomach, the muscles shivering at my touch.
I can feel his heart beating underneath my fingers, a strong and steady beat. We don't say anything for a few minutes, but I surprised myself when I continue to touch his chest, hard underneath my soft fingertips. I feel his heart racing, just like mine. Brandon's strong hands pull me closer to him, his touch making me shiver as his fingers run up my back.
My hands leave his chest, traveling down to the muscles on his stomach, tracing them slowly, my touch ceasing when I reach the black band of his boxers which is visible over the top of his jeans.
His lips graze my jaw as his hand slightly pulls down his t-shirt that I changed into from my shoulder, brushing his lips against the newly exposed skin. He hasn't shaved in a few days. His scruff brushes against my neck, causing me to laugh slightly.
"Sorry, babe. I forgot to shave since I had to meet your demands." He teases, referring to how I woke him up today.
"I don't care. It's sexy." I answer, and he lifts me up onto the table.
He smirks, and I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "You have to be the ho-"
"Hey, guys," Stef says, and I pull away from Brandon. "Moma and I are going out. We'll be home in a few hours. And B, I think your pancakes are burning." Stef tells him, laughing slightly as she walks away.
"Shit!" Brandon curses, turning his attention back to the stove, and I just laugh, leaning against the counter. "FYI," He starts sassily, whipping around to face me. "You're the reason why I burned your pancakes."
"Hey, they aren't that bad. I'll eat them."
"Figures."
"Hey, he's hungry." I defend, and Brandon laughs, wrapping his arms around my waist.
"We should just go back to what we're doing before."
"After I feed your son, he's starving."
"He just had pancakes like, twenty minutes ago!" Brandon complains, and I laugh, shrugging my shoulders.
"That's too ba- Wait. You said he."
"No, I didn't," Brandon says quickly, covering his mouth. "You misunderstood, I said she. Not he. It's a she."
"Sure. You totally said she."
"I did. You know, if you let me talk to her, she'd be the happiest baby in the world." He murmurs in my ear before pressing his lips to my neck. It isn't the first time Brandon has done it, but it feels like it.
"Brandon..." I whisper, then trail off, not sure on what I planned on saying in the first place. My shaking hands reaching to pull the hem of his black shirt up over his head. I slide my hands under the fabric, my palms dragging across his torso while I push the fabric over his body. I can feel his heart beating under my hands while I remove his shirt, urging me to make quicker work of it. Once the thin material ghosts to the floor, I drag my hands down his body, reaching for the waistband of his jeans.
"Uh, Callie," Brandon says, his green irises lighting up. "I think your hormones are getting the best of you. You're becoming horny again." He jokes, biting his lower lip.
"Shut up," I murmur, my hands sliding back up his torso, and I feel his eyes on me. It sounds so bad, but I like to feel them on me. "I want you," I tell him, standing on my tippytoes to brush our lips together. "Right now."
"Dammit, Callie," Brandon groans, his hands finding my waist, pushing the fabric of my shirt up, his nails digging in slightly. "You can't just say stuff like that to me when you don't mean it."
"C'mon, Brandon," I whine, pressing my lips to his collarbone. "I'm not lying. I want you."
"Well," He says lowly, gripping my waist tighter. "In that case, we should take this upstairs, huh?" I smile and grab his hand, leading him up the stairs. He chuckles softly, and I look back at him.
"What?" I ask as he reaches over me, opening the door to his bedroom.
"Nothing. I think this is the happiest I've seen you in awhile." Brandon says, smiling cheekily.
"I'm with you. Duh." I say, and he smirks, gently pushing me against the mattress. I weave my fingers through his hair, and his irises light up.
"You're overdressed, baby," He murmurs, "We're gonna make it even okay?"
I'm about to say something back, but then he gets a sudden look of confusion on his face. "Wait. How is this going to work?"
"B, sometimes I think you're still a virgin," I inform him and a small frown makes its way on his lips. "We've done this before."
"I know. But, uh... Ya know. That was before there was a baby inside of you." Brandon explains.
Oh.
"Well, when you put it like that, you make it sound really weird. Just remember, you're the reason why he's there." I tell him, not really sure on how to react.
"True," Brandon says, his hands slipping underneath my shirt. "Now stop distracting me, I'm trying to do something for you." His hands slide up beneath my shirt and he pulls it slowly over my head, pausing to stare at me. "God, you're so beautiful." Brandon whispers, the look on his face is pure longing, and I blush. My hands are twined in the brown hair above his neck. "I love you, Callie." he breathes into my neck.
I hesitate to answer him. Not because I'm afraid that he doesn't mean it, but the fact that I could possibly somehow ruin it. "I love you, too." I manage to say.
"You don't sound so sure." Brandon says. I stare into his face, his green eyes that I could fall into if I paused for long enough.
"I am. I love you, B."
His face spreads into a grin as he drags his fingers up the outside of my thighs, and I'm surprised by how confident Brandon has become of himself in a few seconds. "I've been missing out, haven't I?" his mouth is burried in my collar as I speak.
"I guess." Brandon mumbles, hitching my legs over his waist. His bare chest is pressed against mine and he's breathing heavily, giving me a small crooked smile.
I cup his face in my hands, kissing him gently as his hands slide up my back, undoing my bra clasp.
"Brandon! Did you d- Oh. Oh," Mariana says, staring at us, then covers her eyes. "Sorry. I should've knocked. Oh my god, sorry. Sorry."
Brandon just chuckles at Mariana's nervousness, and I hit his chest lightly. "Ow!" He complains. "What was that for?"
"Don't laugh at her."
Brandon rolls his eyes, looking at Mariana again. "You can uncover your eyes. And to answer your question, no I didn't do it yet."
Without saying another word, Mariana leaves the room, and I look at Brandon. "What was that all about?" I ask, and he shrugs.
"Nothing, really. Just... something she... planned," He murmurs, kissing my collarbone, sucking gently, a moan escaping my lips. "If you want to change your mind, now is a good time. Because I hear that come from you again... I... I'll..."
"You'll what?" I tease, and his face just goes red and he shakes his head.
"Forget it. I'm not that type of talker," Brandon mumbles against my skin, tossing my bra across the room. "But if you really want to know, I'll fuck you so hard if that's what you want."
"Wow."
"See?" Brandon says, burying his face in my neck in embarrassment. "I shouldn't have said anything."
"I didn't know you were a dirty talker."
"Oh, shut up," He growls, rolling his eyes and he grips my thighs, hooking then over his hips. "I'll be anything you want me to be. A dirty talker. A pianist, anything." He smirks when I don't say anything, still not sure how to react to what he has said in the past few minutes. Brandon hand runs up the inside of my thigh and gently brushes over my pants, causing me to inhale sharply in anticipation. He smiles against my lips, repeating this motion. I arch my back in reply.
He chuckles, clearly enjoying the affect he is having on me. "Fuck, Brandon it's not funny," I tug on the waistband of his sweats, but then stop. "Wait. Mariana is home." I whisper.
"I don't care." He whispers huskily, his hands cupping my breasts, and I moan lightly as he squeezes them gently. I moan softly as his tongue slipped past my open lips and gently invaded my mouth. I rest my hands on his shoulders, stroking my fingers lightly over the ripples of hard muscle. His hand move into my hair and gripped a handful tightly, pulling downward gently as his tongue swirled around mine. I groan as my head tilts back, and he breaks the kiss and begins sliding his lips down the side of my neck. His hand continues to pull at my hair as his teeth nip softly at my neck.
"Brandon," I whine, forcing my lips off his, "I need more."
He pushes into me, his lips covering mine, "Are you okay, baby?" He whispers, his large hands gripping my waist tightly, sure to leave bruises. I nod, biting back another sarcastic comment, grinding my hips back against his, encouraging him to finally move.
"Harder, B." I moan, my arms wrapping around his neck.
"We've been through this," Brandon breathes out. "There's a baby in you."
"Faster, Brandon.." I beg, moving my hips against his, moaning. I gasp and tug on his hair, making him look at me. He runs sloppy kisses along my lips and jawline.
"Fuck, Brandon." I moan, my hands finding his chest. Sweat breaks out along our bodies, his hands pulled at my hair, lips going everywhere, heavy pants exchange. My hands run up from his hips, to the upper part of his back. He kisses my chest and slides a finger between my legs.
"Fuck." It's a small, quiet moan, and he groans at the sound. "B, I'm gonna come." I whimper, and He curses and collapses besides me. For a few minutes, we're just laying there, breathing heavily.
"That's it," Brandon suddenly says, grabbing my clothes off the floor. "Everybody else is gonna be home soon and I don't want them to see you."
"Jeez, when did you become so protective?" I ask, and he presses a kiss to my temple.
"Since you became my girlfriend. Oh, and the second day you were here when Jesus told me he thought you were hot."
I can't tell if he's serious about the last part, but since we're talking about Jesus, I just decide to leave it alone. Who knows what goes through that kid's head. Brandon grabs a clean shirt from his drawer, and he frowns slightly to himself.
"You alright there, B?"
"I'm fine," He says quietly, walking closer to me. "Okay, Cals," He says, exhaling nervously, rubbing his hands on his shirt. "What would you do if I got down on one knee right now?"
As if to prove his question, he kneels down, and up at me. My first thought is: Holy shit, he's proposing.
My second thought is: Oh my god, what do I say? Shit! What should I say? There's no way this is happening. It's has to be some sort of cruel joke.
I still haven't answered his question. I can't even tell if I'm surprised or if I'm nervous. Then I decide it's both.
"Callie?" Brandon asks patiently, and I close my eyes, and shake my head. There is no way this is actually happening. "Callie, open your eyes."
"No."
"Baby, why not?"
"This isn't happening." I barely hear my own whisper.
"Callie, baby, it's a promise ring."
My eyes fly open. "What the hell is that?" I demand, and he chuckles.
"A promise ring," He explains, exhaling nervously. "You know, a promise. Even if we don't get married. We'll come to each other. Best friends."
"Dammit, Brandon!" I say, all of my fear gone, and I smack his arm out of anger. "You can't just do that to a pregnant girl!"
"Did you want me to propose?" He asks, raising an eyebrow, a smirk on his lips.
"Yes. No, maybe! Ugh, I don't know!"
He chuckles again, kissing the top of my head, and I wrap my arms around him, afraid for when he pulls away. "That's okay, baby. Just say you'll always keep me."
A/N: Sorry for the shitty smut. It's two in the morning here and I haven't updated in like a month. Check out my new Brallie story Born to Die. I'm doing something different with that, and it would mean a lot if you guys checked out my other The Fosters Fanfic called the writer.