Status: I wrote this in eighth grade. Don't expect too much.
Moan
Moan
Swoon, this is the same old blood rush with a new touch. I am safe, quaint, and eloquent.
I grinned as the cheering fans in the crowd sang along with me. I knew that most of them were singing Brendon’s part, but a select few gazed at me. Their mouths moved in sync with mine.
But my bottom lip along with the top one too, is chapped and it’s all thanks to you.
I had a guilty habit of licking my lips every time Brendon looked in my direction. I knew why. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was hopelessly attracted to the guy. How could anyone not be? His dark eyes peeked from beneath his lightly tousled hair as his lips belted out the chorus of one of our songs. His lips…they were perfect. Completely and utterly perfect.
We all wet our lips to prepare for the kiss, but it never came. Yeah, we all wet our lips to prepare for the kiss, it was but a game.
We ended with a heavy crash and Brendon began his usual ramble between songs. I was sort of zoning out to be honest. But then he faced me and a line caught my attention.
“We are to share a most romantic kiss.”
My heart stopped.
Was he…was he serious?
His hand caressed my face and he leaned in. I closed my eyes and puckered my lips. But to my dismay, his lips touched my face-painted cheek. The crowd went wild, and I held my smile, but only for a few seconds. I backed up into a shadow and bit my lip in disappointment.
You have a moan all of your own, and I can feel it down to the bone. And you have a moan all of your own, and I can feel it down to the bone.
You trained these lips when they were champs, and now they’re itching for a comeback, so come back.
I thought back to what served to be the most thrilling moment of my life. Brendon and I shared a hotel room together, with Brent and Spencer next door.
“You know,” Brendon said. “I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to kiss a guy.”
I laughed. “Don’t look at me. I wouldn’t know.”
Brendon smiled. “You sure about that?” I rolled my eyes. “Aren’t you ever curious though?”
“I guess,” I shrugged. “The problem is finding a guy who’d kiss me and it wouldn’t be weird afterwards.”
“Well,” Brendon said, face growing serious. “You could always kiss me.”
I laughed, but then realized he wasn’t kidding. “You’re serious? You want to kiss me?”
“Just out of curiosity. I mean, we’re both straight, right? And we’re best friends.”
“True,” I mumbled, suppressing my blush. I mean, I was straight, but I’d recently begun to question that fact. “So, um…”
Brendon scooted closer to me on the bed. He tilted my face towards him. “Ready to lose your gay kiss virginity?” I said nothing, just closed the space between us.
Oh my God.
His lips molded with mine like clay. We connected, almost as if we were missing puzzle pieces. Kissing Jac felt nothing like this. I only prayed that Brendon felt the same thing I felt; because though it was wrong, I wanted to do it over and over and over. Our first kiss only lasted four or five seconds, but it wasn’t our last, nor was it our shortest. Brendon called it training; I was training him for Audrey, and he was training me for Jac. We kept it a secret from the guys, of course. That would never go over well.
But our training sessions didn’t last forever. When Audrey brutally dumped Brendon, he was heartbroken. Our kisses had to stop. Of course, that didn’t mean I wanted them to. I had already admitted to myself I was gay. But Brendon? Straight as a ruler.
It’s a shame that your claim to fame hangs on someone else’s name, so come back.
When Audrey was interviewed after the breakup, she revealed that Brendon was an amazing kisser. She accredited that to herself, much to my annoyance. I wished with all my heart that Brendon and I could be a real couple. I wished that we could hold hands and go on dates and all of that cheesy romantic shit. But for that to happen, Brendon would have to return the feelings that I felt so strongly. He would have to be different. He would have to be gay.
Such a task, and this is such a blast, and such a task. And such a task, and this is such a blast, and all that jazz.
I wanted to win Brendon for myself, but I’d have to compete with almost every girl he knew. And every single one of those girls had a huge advantage over me: his sexuality. I’m typically one to jump at every chance to challenge myself; to test my limits. This task, however, was risky. If I made one wrong move, said anything out of line, it would be over for me. My already faltering heart could be broken.
You have a moan all of your own, and I can feel it down to the bone. And you have a moan all of your own, and I can feel it down to the bone.
You have a dangerous face, an illegal taste, and that strap is fallen on that shoulder blade. (Be patient, behave.) You have a dangerous face, an illegal taste, and that strap is fallen on that shoulder blade. (Be patient, behave.) You have a dangerous face, and an illegal taste. That strap is fallen on that shoulder blade. Be patient, behave.
A few days later, the band was hanging out at an old friend’s house. The Las Vegas sun was hot, so Brendon wore a wife-beater tank top, which accentuated his skinny waist. We decided to go for a game of basketball. Brendon was an extremely competitive player. In all of his antics, his shirt began to slip out of place. I licked my lips again. More than anything, I wanted to grab him and kiss him, but that would be completely inappropriate. It wouldn’t make anyone happy for more than a second.
You trained these lips when they were champs, and now they’re itching for a comeback.
You have a moan all of your own, and I can feel it down to the bone. And you have a moan all of your own, and I can feel it down to the bone.
I never worked up the courage to fight for Brendon. I never even worked up the courage to admit I was gay. One thing led to another, and the band split up due to "creative differences." It was too late. I feared I’d never see Brendon again. Our last kiss was a pathetic kiss on the cheek, that day on stage. Brendon would never know how I felt about him. My dreams of being with him faded into lost hopes. As for my love life, I learned to forget him. Well, not completely. But I loved again. Yet through all of the butterflies I was so glad to feel again, there was a tiny space in the corner of my heart reserved for him.
Brendon Boyd Urie was a damn good kisser.
I grinned as the cheering fans in the crowd sang along with me. I knew that most of them were singing Brendon’s part, but a select few gazed at me. Their mouths moved in sync with mine.
But my bottom lip along with the top one too, is chapped and it’s all thanks to you.
I had a guilty habit of licking my lips every time Brendon looked in my direction. I knew why. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was hopelessly attracted to the guy. How could anyone not be? His dark eyes peeked from beneath his lightly tousled hair as his lips belted out the chorus of one of our songs. His lips…they were perfect. Completely and utterly perfect.
We all wet our lips to prepare for the kiss, but it never came. Yeah, we all wet our lips to prepare for the kiss, it was but a game.
We ended with a heavy crash and Brendon began his usual ramble between songs. I was sort of zoning out to be honest. But then he faced me and a line caught my attention.
“We are to share a most romantic kiss.”
My heart stopped.
Was he…was he serious?
His hand caressed my face and he leaned in. I closed my eyes and puckered my lips. But to my dismay, his lips touched my face-painted cheek. The crowd went wild, and I held my smile, but only for a few seconds. I backed up into a shadow and bit my lip in disappointment.
You have a moan all of your own, and I can feel it down to the bone. And you have a moan all of your own, and I can feel it down to the bone.
You trained these lips when they were champs, and now they’re itching for a comeback, so come back.
I thought back to what served to be the most thrilling moment of my life. Brendon and I shared a hotel room together, with Brent and Spencer next door.
“You know,” Brendon said. “I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to kiss a guy.”
I laughed. “Don’t look at me. I wouldn’t know.”
Brendon smiled. “You sure about that?” I rolled my eyes. “Aren’t you ever curious though?”
“I guess,” I shrugged. “The problem is finding a guy who’d kiss me and it wouldn’t be weird afterwards.”
“Well,” Brendon said, face growing serious. “You could always kiss me.”
I laughed, but then realized he wasn’t kidding. “You’re serious? You want to kiss me?”
“Just out of curiosity. I mean, we’re both straight, right? And we’re best friends.”
“True,” I mumbled, suppressing my blush. I mean, I was straight, but I’d recently begun to question that fact. “So, um…”
Brendon scooted closer to me on the bed. He tilted my face towards him. “Ready to lose your gay kiss virginity?” I said nothing, just closed the space between us.
Oh my God.
His lips molded with mine like clay. We connected, almost as if we were missing puzzle pieces. Kissing Jac felt nothing like this. I only prayed that Brendon felt the same thing I felt; because though it was wrong, I wanted to do it over and over and over. Our first kiss only lasted four or five seconds, but it wasn’t our last, nor was it our shortest. Brendon called it training; I was training him for Audrey, and he was training me for Jac. We kept it a secret from the guys, of course. That would never go over well.
But our training sessions didn’t last forever. When Audrey brutally dumped Brendon, he was heartbroken. Our kisses had to stop. Of course, that didn’t mean I wanted them to. I had already admitted to myself I was gay. But Brendon? Straight as a ruler.
It’s a shame that your claim to fame hangs on someone else’s name, so come back.
When Audrey was interviewed after the breakup, she revealed that Brendon was an amazing kisser. She accredited that to herself, much to my annoyance. I wished with all my heart that Brendon and I could be a real couple. I wished that we could hold hands and go on dates and all of that cheesy romantic shit. But for that to happen, Brendon would have to return the feelings that I felt so strongly. He would have to be different. He would have to be gay.
Such a task, and this is such a blast, and such a task. And such a task, and this is such a blast, and all that jazz.
I wanted to win Brendon for myself, but I’d have to compete with almost every girl he knew. And every single one of those girls had a huge advantage over me: his sexuality. I’m typically one to jump at every chance to challenge myself; to test my limits. This task, however, was risky. If I made one wrong move, said anything out of line, it would be over for me. My already faltering heart could be broken.
You have a moan all of your own, and I can feel it down to the bone. And you have a moan all of your own, and I can feel it down to the bone.
You have a dangerous face, an illegal taste, and that strap is fallen on that shoulder blade. (Be patient, behave.) You have a dangerous face, an illegal taste, and that strap is fallen on that shoulder blade. (Be patient, behave.) You have a dangerous face, and an illegal taste. That strap is fallen on that shoulder blade. Be patient, behave.
A few days later, the band was hanging out at an old friend’s house. The Las Vegas sun was hot, so Brendon wore a wife-beater tank top, which accentuated his skinny waist. We decided to go for a game of basketball. Brendon was an extremely competitive player. In all of his antics, his shirt began to slip out of place. I licked my lips again. More than anything, I wanted to grab him and kiss him, but that would be completely inappropriate. It wouldn’t make anyone happy for more than a second.
You trained these lips when they were champs, and now they’re itching for a comeback.
You have a moan all of your own, and I can feel it down to the bone. And you have a moan all of your own, and I can feel it down to the bone.
I never worked up the courage to fight for Brendon. I never even worked up the courage to admit I was gay. One thing led to another, and the band split up due to "creative differences." It was too late. I feared I’d never see Brendon again. Our last kiss was a pathetic kiss on the cheek, that day on stage. Brendon would never know how I felt about him. My dreams of being with him faded into lost hopes. As for my love life, I learned to forget him. Well, not completely. But I loved again. Yet through all of the butterflies I was so glad to feel again, there was a tiny space in the corner of my heart reserved for him.
Brendon Boyd Urie was a damn good kisser.