Early Mourning

A moan escapes my lips, his mouth sucking the skin on my neck. His hips roll with mine in a rhythm. Small, cool hands slip under my shirt, the fabric bunching up higher and higher. I growl and push him away to take off the useless piece of clothing . I flip us so I'm on top, tugging his shirt over his head.

My mouth catches his in a sloppy kiss. I push the boy onto his back, my hands caressing his torso. His eyes watch me half lidded, hair sticking to his forehead. I press my lips to his chest, slowly making my way down to his lower stomach. His whole body squirms underneath me, small whines filling my ears.

I stop at the top of his jeans and look up at him, watching the way his head his titled back, lips parted and breath rising and falling quickly.

"Larson" He moans, and I feel myself harden.


Imagine that!!!

'cause you're such a pretty, pretty face.
But you're such a pretty, pretty face.
Woaahhh, yeaahhh

The sound of my cell phone blasting away next to my ear brings my body to life, I yelp and fall off my bed and onto the floor. I growl and quickly snatch the phone, opening it up to see a text from Enrique.

Enrique: You fucking late to work Arson! D:<

"Shit" I hiss under my breath. I scramble to my feet yanking my soiled boxers off and throwing them into the laundry basket. My hands grab the first articles of clothing they reach from my drawers and I hastily slip them on. I'm about to walk out the door when I remember I don't have my phone and run back to my room and grab it.

I sprint to the door, lock it and then sprint down stairs to my car. Halfway to work I look in the rear-view mirror and notice the mess of locks on my head. I groan and untangle the strands of hair with my fingers, mind wandering.

Since when the hell did I start having wet dreams of Dane?Not that I mind. I mean seriously, we're friends. I want to be more than that Friends don't have wet dreams of their other friends. Unless they like them, and are in denial.

My teeth gnaw my bottom lip. The image of Dane resurfacing in my head, his rosy cheeks and moans filling my ears. My eyes flutter, body shudders and my heart stutters.

Fucking shit.

I'm screwed.



"Larson!" Enrique screams as soon as I step through the door. He launches himself at me and pulls me into a death hug. I just grumble and shove him away heading to the employee's lounge and slipping on my apron. Enrique is leaning against the counter when I walk back out, a familiar face and stranger standing beside him.

"Oh hey" I greet, seeing the familiar red headed boy who looked a bit like James, and his blond haired boyfriend. They both smile at me.

"Yeah, you remember Jude right? Oh, and this is his boyfriend Julian!" Enrique cheered, pointing at them both I just nodded my head.

"I'm Larson" I introduced, shaking both of their hands. Before I can ask politely what they're doing here Enrique starts to tease me.

"So Arson, off having hot gay sex with your boy toy? Hm? Did you two like do it doggy style? Or did you like sixty-nine that sexy piece of ass? You know, maybe you two are mo-" My hands makes contact with the side of his head and the boy begins whine.

"What the hell Larson? Violence isn't suppose to be your thing! Fire is!" He yells jokingly. Jude and Julian just laugh beside him. I huff and roll my eyes.

"Well you little fucking horn dog, I wasn't with Dane, okay? I was asleep" I grumble. But I was sure having a wet dream about Dane. My eyes glance at Julian, noticing the panicked look in his eyes but Jude quickly whispers in his ear and he calms down.

"Well before you two continue this interesting conversation! I'd like to get down to business because Julian and I have a date, okay?" Jude interrupts his arm wrapping around his boyfriends waist.

I furrow my eyebrows at them.

"Wait what's going on?" I ask feeling out of the loop.

"James' birthday is coming up in two weeks and his family his planning a surprise party. That's why Jude is in town. We have to do the shopping for decorations and create a plan to distract James for the day while everyone else gets his house ready." Enrique explains.

We all quickly get engulfed into preparations, arguing over what decorations suits him more, who's getting it, what we're going to do to keep him busy and such. All the while I'm serving customers.

When we finish and settle down on what's going on Enrique is quick to shout something past his lips.

"And Larson you can bring your little Daney-cakes!"