Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Intoxicated Circulation

Chapter 2

by TayBayBay 4 reviews

Liquid Courage

Category: Panic! At The Disco - Rating: R - Genres: Erotica,Romance - Warnings: [X] - Published: 2011-08-22 - Updated: 2011-08-23 - 2326 words - Complete

Brendon had a shitty 1996 Geo Prism. But hey, at least he had a car. That was more than I could say for myself. Christine jumped into the passenger seat, and I hopped in back. Most of the crowd was leaving, and I searched around for Spencer, but couldn’t find him. I watched out the window, as Brendon got into the drivers seat and started up the car.
I hoped Spence wouldn’t hate me for ditching. I’d call him in the morning.
Brendon started driving through Spencer’s neighborhood at a speed that was a little too fast for my liking, but they guy was giving me a place to stay for the night, not to mention he was fucking.... ridiculously amazing to look at.
Ugh. I couldn’t believe my own thoughts.
He was finally driving on a major highway before he said anything.
“So, just tell Aunt Terry that I won’t be back tonight.” Brendon said, glancing over at Christine.
“You’re not coming home?” Christine blinked. I cocked my head a little too. I wasn’t about to stay at a stranger’s house by myself.
“Nah, I’m going to a friends house.” He said. But then he looked at me in the rearview mirror and... was that a wink?
“What friend?”
“Brent. Why does it matter? I’m only there till my parents get back anyway. It’s not like she’s my fuckin mother.”
“I know... I’m just curious.” Christine raised a suggestive eyebrow.
“Ha. Don’t worry. I won’t be getting laid tonight. That’s for sure.” Brendon laughed. I laughed a little nervously. He glanced back at me again, with a smile on his face.
“Ryan, where do you live? So we can drop you off.” Christine asked, turning in her seat to face me.
“Oh uh over by... Brent,” I tried to continue Brendon’s lie, “So he can just drop me off on the way there.”
Brendon smiled approvingly. Christine shrugged and turned back around.
“Cool.” She said, looking out the window. Brendon turned on the radio, and bobbed his head along with a song I didn’t know. I fiddled with my thumbs. Why the fuck was I so nervous?
We pulled into Christine’s drive way. She gave Brendon and awkward “not enough space in the car” hug, and then smiled back at me.
“I had fun tonight. I’ll see you around.” She opened up her door, and got out.
“You can come up front if you want.” Brendon offered. I nodded, opened my door and walked around to the passenger side. I slipped into the seat, and closed the door.
“Buckle up.” Brendon smiled, before putting the car in reverse and rolling back down the driveway. I clicked my seat belt into place, and nodded with a stupid smile on my face. I could feel that it was stupid. But I was too fucking nervous to fix it. Brendon glanced over at me, laughed a little, and tried to disguise it as a cough. I leaned my head back on the head rest with a sigh. This was not going to be an easy night. I could feel it already.
“So, why can’t you go home?” Brendon dove right in. It caught me a little off guard.
“Uh... I got into a fight with my Dad.” I explained. His brow furrowed.
“That’s not what those bruises are from.”
“Not all of them.” I told the truth. Why was I being so honest with him? I hadn’t even told Spencer that my Dad had actually hit me. He knew he was bat shit crazy, and he knew that he liked to yell at me and be a total dick... But I never told him he’d hit me. Ever.
“What a prick.” Brendon sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s cool. I’m used to it by now.” I excused it. Brendon turned the wheel into a upscale neighborhood. Well, upscale compared to my neighborhood, but I guess that’s not saying much.
“Yeah, My parents are in Barbados for the week. So I’m staying with my Aunt and Christine. Because apparently I can’t stay home by myself.” Brendon rolled his eyes.
“They don’t trust you?” I asked, honestly curious. He bit his lip a little bit, but then sighed.
“Yeah, no.”
“Why not?”
“They’re Mormon. I’m gay. Last time they left me alone, they found out I had my boyfriend over.” He explained, his voice low. Obviously it was a touchy subject.
“How’d they find out?”
“Found a condom wrapper... and when they asked me who the girl was, and told me I could get her pregnant, My smart ass replied with “Really? I didn’t know boy’s could get pregnant!”... Yeah, I know. Not the best way to come out to your parents.”
“Damn.” Was all I could say.
Brendon pulled into a driveway, and turned off the car.
“Well, here we are.” He said, pulling the key out of the ignition and getting out of the car. I got out of the passenger seat, and followed him through the garage. We stepped into the house, and I glanced around.
It was a big living room, all the furniture was white, with a crystal bowl on the glass coffee table. The kitchen was just down the hall, and there was a breakfast bar in between the two rooms connecting them. The stairs did that kind of curvy “make a grand entrance” thing that girls always wanted for their prom pictures.
“Damn. You must be loaded.” I said. Brendon laughed.
“Well, my parents are. I won’t get any of it though.”
“That’s stupid. You’re their kid. They should want to help you out.” I shook my head. Brendon grabbed my wrist, taking me by surprise.
“Yeah, and you’re your dad’s kid. He shouldn’t want to toss you around.” He said, looking at the bruises on my forearms.
“Those aren’t from him. I got into a fight... well not really. I got the shit kicked out of me on my way home from school. And he got pissed I couldn’t defend myself, so he threw me into a coffee table.” I admitted, once again being completely honest.
“What the fuck is wrong with him? You get beat up, and he get’s mad at you for it? That’s so shitty.” Brendon fell onto the couch, and took off his shoes. I sat down awkwardly on the couch next to him. He looked over at me, and smiled.
“Well, we got real deep and personal without almost any intro at all.” He laughed.
“Yeah, I know,” I shrugged, “Weird.”
“Want anything to drink?” Brendon offered, getting up from the couch.
“You got any beer?” I asked. I seriously needed to knock off this nervousness, and alcohol was the best way to do it.
“I like your style.” Brendon smirked, then walked into the kitchen. He returned with two cans of beer and handed one to me.

By the time I had finished my 7th beer, Brendon and I had covered the subjects of shitty parenting, the lack of siblings, hating high school, writing music, our favorite bands, why Abbey Road was better than The White Album, and had finally ended up an a drunken discussion about sex.
“Guy’s know what guy’s want. It’s as simple as that.” Brendon laughed. We were both sitting on his bed, among a mess of CD’s that he had pulled from his closet.
“But girls... are fuckin girls, man. It’s just natural.” I fought. Brendon shook his head, and leaned closer to me. The proximity made my heart flutter.
“Not for me.” He smiled.
I wanted to touch him. So fucking bad. I just wanted to touch him. I didn’t care where, or how long, or whatever. I just wanted to touch him. And I wanted him to touch me back. Holy fuck, he was like a fucking magnet or some shit. It was making my head spin... or maybe that was just the beer.
“Well... it is for me.” I said, shaking the thoughts from my head.
“You’re telling me you’ve NEVER thought about a guy like that.”
I am just now actually. I thought to myself. “Never.” I lied. Not dropping his gaze. He moved even closer to me.
“Never in your life? It’s always been girls?” He wasn’t stopping, his gaze was eating into me.
“Always.” I lied again. I couldn’t control my breathing, but I tried to hide it. He was only inches away from me now.
“You don’t find me attractive?”
“Well, You’re a dude. So no...” I trailed off, wanting so badly to just give in to him. Holy fuck, I wanted to give in.
“Then why is your heart beating so fast?” He smirked, our lips almost touching.
“How can you hear that?” I asked, nervously. His smile grew wider.
“I can’t,” I dropped back on to the bed, “It was just a guess.” He laughed a little at me.
“Well, fuck.” I sighed, running a clammy palm through my hair. “Christine was right about you.”
“Ooh! What’d she say?” He asked.
“That you could convince anyone that you’re Brad Pitt.”
“Well that’s cause I am Brad Pitt.” He joked, still staring into my eyes. I tried to slow my heart down, but nothing was working. I just had to keep reminding myself that I was straight. Not gay. Definitely not gay. Not. Gay.
“So, do you find me attractive?” I asked. Why the fuck did I ask that? This beer had shit slipping out of my mouth before I gave it the okay for take off. Fuck.
He looked at me with sultry eyes, chocolate brown peering up through dark lashes.
“I don’t think I can make it more obvious.” He lifted the corner of his mouth into a crooked smile. I could feel the saliva pooling in my mouth. I bit my lip, forcing my mouth to stay closed. “Too bad I’m not your type.”
“T-too bad.” I stuttered, looking at his mouth. Perfect lips, over white teeth. I wanted to kiss that mouth. Shit. Not. Gay. NOT. GAY.
“Nice stutter. It’s cute.” He smiled. I blinked.
“Thanks.” I hadn’t realized I was leaning to the side until I almost fell right off the bed. Brendon reached out and grabbed my arm and pulled me back onto the covers. I was laying on my back, staring up at the ceiling. He leaned over me, his hands on the pillow on either side of my head.
“Are you okay there, party boy? A little too much to drink?” He laughed. He was so fucking close to me. I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Thank god for that.” I whispered.
“Huh?” Brendon cocked his head slightly.
“Liquid courage.” I said, before putting my hand on the nape of his neck, and crashing his lips down onto mine.
At first he tensed up, but in a split second he was kissing back with such ferocity, I couldn’t help but moan a little into his mouth. He kicked his leg over my hips, straddling me. He pressed his body into mine, my hands pulling at the back of his shirt, wishing it would disappear. I could feel myself getting hard underneath his weight. He moved his hips ever so slightly, and an intense wave of pleasure forced a moan out of my mouth. He grabbed at the bottom of my shirt and pulled it up over my head, throwing it over his shoulder before crashing back down on me. My fingers fumbled with the button’s of his shirt, while his lips were still moving over mine. His tongue explored my mouth, as he ran his hands down my small, girlish, frame. I pulled at the button’s of his shirt, nearly ripping them off, until they were all finally undone, and he wriggled out of it, letting it fall to the ground. He moved his lips down my neck, chest, and back up again. I was so fucking hard. I wanted him to fuck the life out of me. I rolled him over, and sat on top of him. I could feel that he was hard too, making me just want to fuck him more.
I kissed him fiercely, forcing my tongue into his mouth, which he willingly accepted. I moved my hands down his chest, landing on his belt buckle. He put his hands on my chest and pushed upward, forcing me to stop.
“Ryan, you’re drunk.” He whispered, breath pouring out of him heavily.
“Yes. I know.” I said, kind of annoyed at the pause.
“You’re not gay.” He reminded me. I looked at him, my mouth open, my chest moving in and out as I tried to catch my breath. “I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.” He said, lightly pushing me off of him and standing from the bed.
I ran a hand through my hair, and watched as he started towards the door.
“Are you serious right now?” I asked, flustered. He looked back at me, biting his lip.
“Sadly, yeah. Look, I’m gonna go clean up. Just, uh... get some sleep.” He said, before turning and walking out. I stared after him in disbelief. What the fuck was with the sudden conscience? He was the gay one! I felt the heat in my cheeks rise up as I thought about going to sleep. No. Fuck that.
I heard the shower turn on down the hall. I stood from the bed, and walked down the hall.
There was no way I was letting things end there.
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