I Melt With You

Blue Neighborhood

I reluctantly walked to the door, my hand covering my face. I twisted the knob and opened it. I dropped my hand and groaned, "Brendon, I--"

I didn't get the chance to even finish my sentence because just as the words left my lips, they are replaced with another set of lips. Demanding and angry and harsh with the taste of alcohol dancing on its buds.

And I was dazed and my eyes closed instantly as I felt his arms wrap around my waist. And he was biting and nibbling at my lower lip, still aggressive and taking control, pressing for me. And I opened my mouth, begging him for entrance because God, I missed his taste. So fucking much. But there was that thought gnawing at the back of my mind, screaming at me my biggest fear.

He doesn't love you, it hissed, he's only doing this because he's drunk. He's just like you, afraid of commitment. He's going to leave you just like you left him.

And I fought the voice in my head, growing more and more desperate as I kissed his lips back. I tried to silence the voice in my mind, fighting it by only kissing back harder. Violently. Passionately. Let me prove to you, Brendon, that I love you. And maybe you'll love me back. Just this once.

He pressed our hips together, moaning into my mouth at the sweet, sweet friction. He murmured into my mouth, "I missed you." And I tried to reply with "I miss you, too" but the words refused to leave my lips because it's the alcohol talking. It's the alcohol talking, Ryan. He won't remember this tomorrow. You'll just be another regret.

And I screamed at that voice to shut up. I wasn't a regret. And in my mind I was silently begging Brendon to let me please him. Let me prove to him how good I can be. When he'll look at me in pictures, he's going to remember this. Our kiss. The burn of my hands on him. Let me mark you. Remember me. Let me melt into your skin and drip on you like candle wax. Let me leave the burns on your skin that never truly fade. Let's burn together.

And we were like two horny teenagers again, grinding on each other and moaning into each other's mouths. Licking and biting and scratching. The alcohol seemed to have given him some sort of liquid confidence. I found myself pinned against my own wall, his hands against my wrists. His hands clawed at my belt, forcing it off. And I knew where this was going. And I should stop it.

I should.

"Brendon," I gasped out, breathy and quick. I hated how he made me this way. His hands found my crotch and he applied pressure there, pushing and palming at it, giving me friction I hadn't had in a while.

"God, you sound so fucking good. Fuck, I missed this. Growl for me, Ross, growl," he snarled sexily, nibbling at my neck as I squirmed and moaned underneath him. No, my mind screamed at me. This isn't how it's supposed to be.

And I swore I tried to push him off, but he just lunged back at me. Before I even knew what was happening, my pants are torn down and kicked off of me and Brendon's sinking onto his knees.

"N-no, oh fuck, your mouth," I whined as his mouth wrapped around me. And it was just wet, wet pressure and hungry kisses and scraping of teeth. I felt myself get closer and closer, my knees buckling underneath me. I pushed against the wall, thrusting my hips for some friction or tongue or yesyesyesyesyesyes.

He moaned around my length and I knew I was getting even close. "F-fuck, Brendon, I'm g-gonna, holy shit, fuck, your--" And I was so ready for the sweet release, but then he pulled off with a pop. I whined loudly at the loss of contact. My eyes are still screwed shut and I must have the most obscene expression plastered onto my voice. I heard him stand and I heard his harsh breaths coming out.

"You look so god damn good, Ross," he said, voice gravelly and heaven-like. I missed his blowjob voice.

I tried to collect myself and I opened my eyes. Oh, well, there's my erect cock. Alright. I looked up at him and I truly get to admire him. He had blown pupils, dark chocolate mixed with a lustful black. He glistened with a shiny coat of sweat. My eyes traveled lower until I saw the practical tent in his pants.

I glanced up again and I saw his smirk. What a fucking tease. "Glad to know that I can still make you keen like a motherfucker," he joked. Bastard.

"Yeah, whatever," I retorted, but it came out too breathy, too high-pitched. Sex voice.

He took another step closer to me and my breath hitches. "I love seeing you like this..." His voice trailed off and it's just us, staring at each other. Since when have I been scared of him? Then I remembered that when I first left Panic!, Brendon had been too scared, no, I scared him. I didn't want him to take charge of my band. Now, his confidence has expanded tenfold. He's no longer the scared boy I tried to convince myself I hadn't fallen in love with.

"S-so are we gonna finish what we started here or what?" I asked, breaking the tension.

He twiddled with his fingers a bit, looking down, and he had gone from a sex god to a little kid in a mere matter of seconds. He looked so vulnerable. That was the Brendon I had wanted to ruin when I first laid eyes on him. He was innocent, so pure, ten years ago. I was so eager to wreck him.

He looked up again and and took another step forward, leaning towards me and licking the shell of my ear. "If you want to cooperate and finish it, we can." And I closed my eyes and shuddered. Fuck, he was so good. And I nodded as he started to nibble all over me again, placing kisses on my jawline, trailing to my neck. He popped open my shirt, making his way from my chest to my nipple. He sucked hard and licked at it and God, I missed him so much. I melted under every burning touch he placed. Every kiss was another stab at me. He was wearing away at me. I don't even think you know what you do to me, I whispered to him in my mind.

And I knew that this would lead to us sweaty and breathless in my bed. So, I took a chance. I wanted to know. And so I blurted it out, "Will I just be another mistake? Another regret?'

And he stopped admiring my body, taking a hold of my chin and looking me in the eye. He placed his lips on mine, sweetly. It's not hurried or dangerous; it's soft and slow and passionate. My hands were tangled in his and he whispered onto my lips, "No, you were never a regret."