Picture Perfect

Allison Reyes sighed as she honked the horn of her father's car for the third time. She sat outside the Fuentes residence, waiting for her most likely hungover best friend to show his face. After two minutes, she groaned, and honked again. Allison knew she was being obnoxious, but she was not going to go in and baby Vic simply because he'd had too much to drink the night before. If anything, he should be the one being overly nice to her after his drunken actions.
Finally, Vic did walk out of the house, smiling slightly and waving at her. It was hard for Allison to stay mad at her best friend, even after last night, so she got out of the car and walked to him.
"Now that I actually get to say a proper hello..." Allison said in her soft voice, opening her arms. She wrapped them around Vic's waist, and pressed her face to his chest. Vic held her tight to him, relishing in her being so close. The soul that he loved so much, finally with him again.
He buried his face in her hair. "Hi, Ally-cat," he whispered, closing his eyes. He felt involuntary tears start to prick behind his eyelids. The emotion was something he'd always dealt with when reuniting with Allison between tours.
"Hello, Victor," she replied quietly. A small, content smile blossomed on her lips as Vic held her at arm's length. The grin that adorned Vic's face had to be reciprocated in some way.
"Beautiful, just like I remembered," Vic commented as he looked into her eyes.
"You're not too shabby yourself, handsome," Allison chuckled softly. She took one of his hands and pressed it to her lips, before linking his fingers with hers. "Time for a drive around town, would ya say?"
"It is indeed time for that," Vic answered, swinging their arms as they walked down his driveway to Allison's dad's car.
"Daddy let you borrow the '59?" he remarked, as he slid into the passenger seat.
"Nope," she smiled sheepishly, plopping into her spot behind the steering wheel. "He's on a business trip."
"Ahh, that's right, Papa Reyes is never home when you drive around in this," Vic recalled, laughing.
Allison nodded her head, "I wish he'd let me borrow it more often, it's so pretty." She started the car and pulled out of the driveway. "Anywhere you wanna go Victor?"
Vic looked out the window and noted how the sky was just barely gray. It was almost balmy, unusual for an early August day in San Diego. The sky promised rain soon, but not today.
"The docks?" Vic turned his head to Allison, raising his eyebrows.
The corners of her mouth turned down in a 'not bad' expression as she nodded. Vic smiled as he turned on the radio.

"I missed you so much on Warped, Ally-gator. I hate leaving you," Vic whined, pressing his face into her neck.
"I missed you too, Vic," Allison raised her eyebrows at her very intoxicated best friend. She laughed as he pulled her onto his lap, rubbing her sides.
"You know me so well, you're so beautiful..." he smiled up at her. She laughed raucously. Vic spewed out compliments when he was hammered, and she'd always found it hilarious.
"You are drunk, Victor!" she jokingly scolded, placing her hands on his shoulders.
Vic let his bottom lip droop out in a pout. "I've missed you all summer. I was so sad, Allison, so sad. We barely talked. Now you're here and I'm so haaaaappy," he muttered, placing his forehead against hers.
Allison closed her eyes and sighed. She would be lying if she said she wasn't drunk, but she was good at staying coherent. Allison knew Vic really did miss her, and, because of this, she knew what was about to happen.
Contrary to popular belief, Vic and Allison had never dated. Sure, they were a lot closer than normal "best friends"; the promise to lose their virginity to each other in high school, the occasional peck on the lips when the other was upset, and, of course, the "I missed you" kisses at the home-from-tour parties.
Vic kissed the corner of her mouth softly, while she remained still as stone. He wrapped his arms tighter around her waist, pulling her closer. Allison ran her fingers through the ends of Vic's hair; she had definitely missed playing with his long hair while he was on Warped. She smiled slightly, before leaning in to press a kiss to Vic's lips. They tasted of tequila; Allison couldn't remember what he tasted like without alcohol.
"I missed you, Victor," she whispered against his lips. There was the heaviness of suppressed tears in her voice as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
And that was when it started.
It was never lust that drew them to each other when Vic got home from tour. It was always an emotional need, the desire for closeness that was impossible when they were apart. Allison wasn't there when Vic's voice was straining, Vic wasn't there when Allison was stressed about student loans. They showed the other how sorry they were for not being there, how much they had needed each other over the weeks. Long kisses and necking, punctuated with 'I love you's and 'I missed you's.
Only it usually happened when they were sober. And they were always in a more private, intimate setting, which did not fit the description of the crowded bar in downtown San Diego.
Given, they were in a back corner on a leather couch, while most of the partygoers were up at the front chatting and having drinks mixed for them. The thought that there were people in the bar who possibly could have recognized that the people making out in the back were Vic and Allison didn't really bother either of them. But then Vic started to take things a bit too far.
"Vic," Allison murmured, feeling as his hand started to go higher and higher on her thigh. He 'hmm?'-ed against her neck. She wouldn't lie, his hand was raising goosebumps on her bare skin, and, physically, it felt great. But inside, she felt wrong, all wrong. He hadn't touched her like this since their senior year, and she wanted to keep that a standalone event.
She reached to grab Vic's hand and stop him, but by then, he'd already gotten under her skirt and was palming her. Coherent thoughts left her drunken mind, as she let out a quiet moan. She didn't care that she was in a public place, she didn't care that people she knew were around, she didn't care that her best friend of 15 years was touching her because it just felt so fucking good. She hadn't been touched like this in far too long.
"D-does that feel good?" Vic murmured against her neck, suddenly tense. He felt her grip his shoulders tightly and nod; his cue to continue. Allison let out soft 'oh!'s and gasps as Vic moved aside her panties and rubbed her gently. This was the most sexual they'd gotten with each other since they were 17, and, sadly enough, it was only a drunken mistake.
But then, Allison looked up into Vic's eyes and nearly catapulted herself away from him.
"Al?" Vic looked up at her, grabbing her hand softly. She looked down at him, and tears formed in her eyes. As Vic realized the severity of what they'd just been doing, he felt his heart drop.
"I'm-I'm so sorry, Allison," he muttered, shaking his head.
"I didn't respect myself..." Allison replied quietly, before plopping down next to Vic and letting the intoxicated tears come. Vic had always been very protective of 'his girl', always suspicious of any of her boyfriends and their intentions. He wanted Allison, obviously, to respect herself; not let any boy into her pants. He believed she was special; not just anyone deserved Allison. And he had just disrespected her.
"It's my fault," Vic said, shaking his head harder and hating himself.
"No-" Allison stuttered, "I just- we both.... I-I'm gonna go, Vic." She looked at his sad eyes, then added. "I'll come by yours tomorrow, okay?"
"Okay," Vic responded.
Allison stood up again, leaned down to press a slow, lingering kiss to Vic's forehead, and walked out. Vic watched her leave the bar, so many unanswered questions swirling in his alcohol-soaked mind.