Sunspots and Raindrops

A beautiful, beautiful, BEAUTIFUL banner by KBrooke (over on Quizilla). I can't believe I'm just getting around to using it. It's so nice to look at. c:

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Brendon’s Point of View

My heart pounded harder each time Sonny’s fingers met a new patch of bare skin on my body and the way she was swirling her hands through my hair was not keeping my thoughts straight whatsoever.

I was worried that I might be rushing things. But I couldn’t help wanting to be so close to her. I needed to be. She was so warm, like she always seemed to be, and as the number of discarded clothes increased, so did the temperature in my bedroom, it seemed.

I’d pulled the zipper down on her dress off and gone for her neck, placing kisses everywhere I could. Her breathing was ragged, but I barely heard. I was so focused on those hands of hers. Soft in my hair and over my shoulders, but each time one of her fingernails would snag along my skin, my breath would hitch and my skin would crawl pleasurably.

I wondered if she knew what she did to me, but then realized if she did, she probably wouldn’t be the same.

Thoughts connected like dots in my mind and I was suddenly thinking of all of the other students at that dance. I realized that I would’ve been the happiest guy at that dance with Sonny by my side, on my arm, in my arms, where ever she would be.

“You know, I really wanted to see you dance in this dress.” I whispered teasingly to Sonny as I grasped the hem of the dress and yanked it down. In response, Sonny pressed her heels into the mattress and arched herself up and off the bed, allowing me to tug the dress out from under her. While arched, however, her hips pressed firmly into mine and I felt my pulse pound harder as my breath caught in my throat.

I thought I was seeing stars and she’d barely even touched me.

I looked down to see her smirking. Obviously, my reaction had pleased her. “Still wish I was dancing in the dress?”

I felt challenged, but simultaneously enamored. “No more talking.” And I pressed my mouth to hers.

Clothing was being lost more quickly now. I felt my belt being whipped from the loops of my pants before thrown on the floor. And as Sonny’s hands grasped the top of my pants, mine slid across the soft skin of her back toward her bra clasp.

Subconsciously, I worried about whether or not I would be able to get it open. Didn’t guy usually have trouble with it?

Before I could even begin to fret about the bra situation, however, Sonny had reversed our positions and was striding my hips, looking down at me. Charmed again, I looked up at her, expecting this to be more foreplay, but was surprised to see how crystal clear her eyes were.

She looked like she had seen a ghost.

“Bren, I’m in love with you.”

And just like that, everything stopped. All the erotic and sexual white noise that had taken over my head seemed to have been put on mute and everything in the world blurred away.

There was only me and Sonny then.

And that’s when I realized that that was all I ever needed it to be. There was nobody I had met before that moment that had made me feel the things I did and I was certain that there would be nobody I’d rather take the time to get to know.

Everything was Sonny Mae Daniels and nothing hurt.

“Sonny, I--…” I made to respond, but didn’t get the chance to finish. Sonny had slid off of me and was heading toward the edge of the bed. I caught her before she got too far, however, and held her to me. “Don’t run from me, Sundance.” I saw her blink slowly at the nickname.

“Of all the people in the world, don’t run from me.” She tried to say something, but I kissed her, shutting her up instantly “Sonny, I love you too.”

She looked at me. “You love me? Or you’re in love with me. Because there’s a difference and I said that I was ‘in love with’ you.”

I almost couldn’t believe that she was being this anal about something so semantic. But for the sake of not upsetting her (because I knew this was as big a deal to her as it was to me), I let her be the smarter half of our whole. I couldn’t stop myself from rolling my eyes though.

Smiling at her, I say in a whisper, “Sonny Mae Daniels, I am in love with you and will sing it from the mountains if that means you will not leave this bed for at least a week. Sonny sighed and I could notice her relax as her shoulders slid down and her eyes lost an urgent spark. I brought my face to hers and nuzzled her cheek and jaw line. “Sonny, I’m in love with you,” I said again and I felt her smile. “Only you,” I pressed a kiss on her neck before she turned to look at me. “Always you.”

And finally, she brought her hand to my cheek and kissed me, lighting strings of TNT in my brain that sent millions of brilliant explosions through my entire body. “Okay, no more talking.” And she pressed me back down to the mattress.

What little clothing left between the two of us was now gone and there was nothing left between us but the gasps that escaped each of our mouths periodically. Deep breaths turned quick and shallow and sweet kisses turned passionate and desperate. One of my hands was busy trying not to tear holes in my sheets while the other was gently lost in Sonny’s hair. Both of her hands were dragging over my shoulders and down my back and I imagined her nails leaving angry red marks in their wakes.

We both said “I love you” about a million and a half times before silence enveloped the bedroom. My arms were draped around Sonny’s waist lazily while she toyed with my hair, eyes half open and breathing deep and slow.

She was on the brink of sleep, I could tell.

“Sonny, do you want to go home?” I asked. She’d stayed the night before, I realized, but that had been under different circumstances.

“Will you be waiting in my bed when I get there?” She asks, her voice patchy and tired, but beautiful.

“Well, I could be.” I replied, smiling to myself and at her. She was smiling too.

“‘Could’ doesn’t sound certain, so I don’t see that point in relocating,” She snuggled deep into the pillows and sheets, drawing her hands away from my hair and resting one on the side of my neck and the other on my chest. “Besides, your bed smells like you.”

And I didn’t have to ask if she was asleep after that. I could tell by the way her fingers no longer moved; not even a twitch here or there. Her breathing was steady and her face was relaxed and I was about to settle in to sleep as well when I saw my phone light up on the night stand behind her head.

I reached carefully for it, trying not to wake her up, and flipped it open to see a new text message from Ryan.

I left a link on Pete Wentz’s PureVolume account and he said he’s going to drive down to Vegas and listen to us play.

My heart stopped beating and I stared at the message, absolutely stunned. This could be exactly what the band needed. Pete Wentz, the bassist of Fall Out Boy, was going to hear our music. What if he liked it? What if he hated it? What if he wanted us to be signed? What if we made an album? What if they went on tour? What if…what if... what if…

The possibilities were piling up in my head and I noticed that the excitement was causing my heart to start pounding again.

Sonny pressed her lips to my jaw and then to my cheek, asking sleepily, “Your heart is racing, Bren.” The tiredness in her voice made my heart skip a beat. I saw her smile in my peripheral.

“We can talk about it tomorrow,” I say, not wanting to wake her up then. “Sleep for now, love.” I kissed her forehead and she was asleep before my lips left her skin.
I was in blissful subconsciousness not long after.

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“I’ve never even taken the time to make breakfast for myself before,” I said as we walked through Sonny’s front door. “So don’t be pissed if this birthday breakfast isn’t five-star quality.”

Sonny laughed at me as I tugged her by the hand toward her kitchen. I had made the excuse to get out of my house by saying that I didn’t have any pancake mix in my kitchen.

How I correctly assumed that there was any in her kitchen, I may never know, but she wasn’t about to ruin my high and she seemed happy enough to see me so happy. She sat on the countertop and watched as I skipped around her kitchen, looking for the desired and required breakfast-making instruments. Each time she found one before or for me, I’d steal a kiss while sneaking whatever tool I was holding from her grip.

She never seemed to mind, which was something I adored. And I couldn’t wait to tell her my news about the band.

I kept insisting that she make a throne out of pillows on the couch while I slaved over a hot stove, but she was steadfast in helping me cook. Of course, she disobeyed immediately and after only a few objections, I let her help me out.

I guessed I didn’t really mind. She was handy in the kitchen (especially since it was her own kitchen and I was completely unfamiliar with the territory). Not to mention with her there, it gave me perfect opportunities to flirt with her.

I was whipping up the pancake mix while she was dicing potatoes, onions and peppers to make omelets when she heard the tune I was humming quietly.

“Can you go even one hour without a song buzzing through your head?” She asked, amused.

I smirked at her. “Trust me, if this song wasn’t distracting me, I wouldn’t be able to focus on anything but you.”

She made a face. “What do you mean?”

“If you know what would be going through my head instead of this song, you would slap me.” I smiled cheekily at her.

I saw the blush she tried to hide by turning quickly back to her cutting board. “I don’t want to know.” She says through a laugh, returning to slicing.

“I thought not.” I turned back to whisking.

She finished with the omelet ingredients and dumped them in the waiting frying pan on the stove. The sizzling sound they made when they met the hot metal was almost as enjoyable as the pungent and delicious smell that took over the kitchen.

Distracted by Sonny, I sloshed the pancake mix slightly and got some on my hand, arm, and the front of my shirt.

I almost swore under my breath and Sonny turned to me. “What happened?” She snickered, looking at my batter-covered self.

“You distracted me!” I accuse teasingly, gesturing at the sizzling omelet pan. “You and your stupid sexy omelet-making abilities.”

A smirk played on her face. “My ‘sexy omelet-making abilities’, Brendon?” I nodded insistently and she rolled her eyes. “You’re just fishing for excuses when the real reason you’re a human pancake is because you’re a klutz.”

“Oh really?” I challenge, running a finger up my arm and then pressing it to her face. She looked at me, mouth agape. “Oh, shit, Sundance. I’m such a klutz. I’m sorry.”

I went to grab a dishtowel to wipe the batter off of Sonny’s cheek, but when I turned back to her, she had grabbed the spray nozzle on the sink. I looked at her questioningly, wondering if she really had the guts to douse me in water.

Her eyes were very mischievous as she readied, aimed, and fired.

The stream of water splashed me right in the face and then slowly trailed down until my shirt was completely soaked, along with the top half of my pants and my shoes.

My eyes stayed closed and I heard her laughing from across the kitchen before I heard her feet pattering toward me. Then, her lips were pressed to mine and she was hugging and laughing and kissing me.

“Don’t worry, clumsy,” She says against my mouth. “I got that little spot of pancake batter off of your shirt. Good as new.”

“Thanks, babe. Appreciate it.” My arms were around her waist instantly and I was smiling at the ceiling as she placed kisses on my cheek and jaw and neck and everywhere and anywhere else she pleased.

Her hands landed on both sides of my neck and she brought my face to meet hers and kissed me lightly. I pulled her closer, my hands traveling slightly south as hers hooked behind my neck.

Chocolate fudge couldn’t hold a candle to Sonny’s kisses. Atomic bombs had nothing on me. I was floating on Cloud 9 and wouldn’t have had it any other way than with her, sopping wet and slightly dripping with pancake batter as our breakfast cooked behind us.

Everything was perfect...until the front door opened and slammed and then Sonny was being torn away from me viciously.

“What the hell is going on here?” Thomas asked fiercely, grasping Sonny hard by the wrist and looking angrily between her and me. Sonny’s mother stood behind Thomas and watched the scene, looking slightly tensed. Afraid.

“Nothing, man,” I was trying extremely hard to keep my temper in check. God only knows how badly I wanted to swing at the asshole.

“It’s nothing, Thomas,” Sonny said sheepishly, looking at the floor and looking uncomfortable. “This is Brendon. He lives next door. He’s my friend.”

The term stung slightly, but then again, I realized that I didn’t want Thomas to know anything that Sonny didn’t want him to know. She knew best, I understood.

“What happened to the kitchen?” He looked at the water and pancake mix on the floor and we hadn’t noticed that the omelet in the skillet was beginning to burn slightly.

I could smell it from where I stood.

“We had a little accident,” I replied, trying to defend Sonny from any potential trouble. “I’m just clumsy, sir.” The term of respect was wasted on him, I thought with disgust.

Thomas’ eyes turned on Sonny. “This true?” His hand moved up just above her elbow and he squeezed.

I lost my shit when I saw Sonny’s face contort in pain.

“Yeah, it’s true,” I stepped toward him, ripping his hand from Sonny and moving her behind me. “This isn’t a fucking police investigation.” I spat.

He took a menacing step toward me. “What the fuck did you say to me?”

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry, let me try to rephrase it so it’ll get through your thick meathead skull,” I took a step toward him. I heard Sonny say my name as a quiet warning, but I needed to do this. For her. “You need to step the fuck back and back the fuck off.”

And before I knew what had happened, I was being pressed against a wall, one hand behind my back. With a fist full of my hair, Thomas brought my head back and then slammed my temple against the wall. I felt the plaster crack behind the blow and I saw stars for a few seconds.

Sonny was at Thomas’ side instantly. She tugged on his arms that pinned me and slapped him hard on the face. Hardly fazed, he elbowed her hard and sent her flying to the floor hard. I growled and writhed against the wall.

I wanted to fucking end this prick.

“Thomas!” I think everyone in the room was shocked to hear Sonny’s mother speak. Even Thomas didn’t respond right away. “THOMAS!” She shrieked and at last, his attention was drawn from me. “Stop it. Now.”

Thomas’ grip relaxed only slightly. “What?” He was shocked that she’d taken my side. “He’s a punk.”

I looked at Sonny who was still on the floor, staring up at Thomas with nothing but sheer hate in her eyes. When her eyes met mine, they filled with tears and I knew that things would be different after that moment.

Things would be different...and it was all Thomas’ fucking fault.

Mustering what strength I had left, I tore myself from Thomas grasp and brought back a fist, connecting it hard with his left cheekbone. He cried out, but I stayed solemnly silent before walking away. I looked at Sonny, completely crestfallen, before walking out the front door and sprinting toward my house.

Everything was broken.