The New Kid in Class
Get A Room
Brendon's POV
The stairs were closer than the front door, so instead of ditching the party, I choose to head upstairs. Where am I headed? No idea.
I push open the first door i see, and it happens to be the bathroom. I end up having to shut the door quickly, because two people have decided to use this room as a bedroom.
The next room I pass by is also a no-no. Another couple occupies this room. Goddamnit, get a room... Well... I guess they already did...
Finally, the next room on the left is a bedroom, and luckily enough, it's vacant.
I step inside cautiously, leaving the door open and making sure there aren't any people making out in the dark corners of the room. There aren't. Good.
Even with the lights off and nothing but the moonlight to illuminate the room, I can see that this is probably Spencer's room. It is painted in a chocolatey brown kind of colour, but most of the walls are covered in posters. The bed - decked out in SpongeBob Squarepants sheets- is barely big enough for one. Also good.
I walk over to the bed and take a seat. The mattress creaks under my weight as I sit down. Leaning back against the wall, I look out the window. Nothing too exciting here. A street, some grass, and some cars parked along the curb. We have all that at my house.
A noise distracts me. It seems that the door is creaking. Oh, crap. It's probably some couple wanting to get it on in this room.
"This room is taken," I say, hoping that will get them to leave.
I hear footsteps. They've come into the room, and they're alone.
Once they round the corner - so conveniently placed - I can see who it is. It's Ryan. What does he want?
He closes the door behind him. Beer in hand, he walks over and sits down next to me on the bed.
"Hey." He sets the bottle down on the nighttable beside the bed.
"Hey." It surprises me that I speak, because in any other situation, I probably wouldn't.
"Why'd he... do that?" I say, meaning the dare. Ryan just shrugs.
"Why'd you do that?" He asks me, and I know he means the kiss. I shrug back. He just smiles, "'Cause I didn't mind it." The smile doesn't abandon his face. He isn't joking.
At that, I just have to do it. I move my face close to his, and kiss him again. It's the same as before; except this time he puts his arms around me.
After making out for a good 10 minutes, he starts to lay (lie?) me down on the bed. He lies down too.
The bed is tiny, but do I care? No. I don't care about anything right now but this.
Suddenly, we stop. We just look at each other. Both of us are breathing hard and sweating.
Once again, he kisses me; and he starts to pull off his shirt.
He's drunk. That's probably the only reason he's doing any of this. But I couldn't care less.
I don't hesitate to remove my own shirt and throw it on the floor.
The feeling of his skin against my own is one like no other. I can't help but run my hands up and down his chest.
He falls onto the bed beside me, as if he collapsed for some reason. He puts his head on my chest, and looks up at me to let me know he's okay.
It's over.
Damnit.
In no time, his breathing has slowed, and I can tell he's fallen asleep. I close my eyes and try to rest too.
The stairs were closer than the front door, so instead of ditching the party, I choose to head upstairs. Where am I headed? No idea.
I push open the first door i see, and it happens to be the bathroom. I end up having to shut the door quickly, because two people have decided to use this room as a bedroom.
The next room I pass by is also a no-no. Another couple occupies this room. Goddamnit, get a room... Well... I guess they already did...
Finally, the next room on the left is a bedroom, and luckily enough, it's vacant.
I step inside cautiously, leaving the door open and making sure there aren't any people making out in the dark corners of the room. There aren't. Good.
Even with the lights off and nothing but the moonlight to illuminate the room, I can see that this is probably Spencer's room. It is painted in a chocolatey brown kind of colour, but most of the walls are covered in posters. The bed - decked out in SpongeBob Squarepants sheets- is barely big enough for one. Also good.
I walk over to the bed and take a seat. The mattress creaks under my weight as I sit down. Leaning back against the wall, I look out the window. Nothing too exciting here. A street, some grass, and some cars parked along the curb. We have all that at my house.
A noise distracts me. It seems that the door is creaking. Oh, crap. It's probably some couple wanting to get it on in this room.
"This room is taken," I say, hoping that will get them to leave.
I hear footsteps. They've come into the room, and they're alone.
Once they round the corner - so conveniently placed - I can see who it is. It's Ryan. What does he want?
He closes the door behind him. Beer in hand, he walks over and sits down next to me on the bed.
"Hey." He sets the bottle down on the nighttable beside the bed.
"Hey." It surprises me that I speak, because in any other situation, I probably wouldn't.
"Why'd he... do that?" I say, meaning the dare. Ryan just shrugs.
"Why'd you do that?" He asks me, and I know he means the kiss. I shrug back. He just smiles, "'Cause I didn't mind it." The smile doesn't abandon his face. He isn't joking.
At that, I just have to do it. I move my face close to his, and kiss him again. It's the same as before; except this time he puts his arms around me.
After making out for a good 10 minutes, he starts to lay (lie?) me down on the bed. He lies down too.
The bed is tiny, but do I care? No. I don't care about anything right now but this.
Suddenly, we stop. We just look at each other. Both of us are breathing hard and sweating.
Once again, he kisses me; and he starts to pull off his shirt.
He's drunk. That's probably the only reason he's doing any of this. But I couldn't care less.
I don't hesitate to remove my own shirt and throw it on the floor.
The feeling of his skin against my own is one like no other. I can't help but run my hands up and down his chest.
He falls onto the bed beside me, as if he collapsed for some reason. He puts his head on my chest, and looks up at me to let me know he's okay.
It's over.
Damnit.
In no time, his breathing has slowed, and I can tell he's fallen asleep. I close my eyes and try to rest too.