A/N SO yeah, I don't know why I'm writing this instead of the other stories. But I am. If you read, I would really appreciate a little R&R. Thanks to Feel The Waltz, gummybaby, and Tapping to Nothing, for their interest and comments. Oh yeah... consider this your Reader Beware Caveat Lector...there's a wee bit of slash at the end of this chapter. So if you find that offensive, stop!

TWO WEEKS EARLIER

"I don't want a freakin' party" I held the party hat like a megaphone. "I repeat, I DO NOT want a party." Parties and I don't get along. Too many people. I'm not a people person.

Trish smiled and patted me on the head as she passed me on the way into the kitchen. "Of course you do. Everyone likes parties. There's cake. There's ice cream. There's people."

""Uhm..." I rubbed my face in consternation.

"I know, I know. You're diabetic. Lactose intolerant. And a bit agoraphobic. But still. The party isn't really for YOU. It's for everyone else... To celebrate your departure." Trish liked to talk with her hands, making exaggerated emotive gestures, as if everything she said was part of some interpretive dance.

"Ugh..." I dropped my face into my hands and shook my head. "There's going to be pictures, aren't there?" I mumbled.

"What?"

I looked up at Trish. "I said, Pictures? There's going to be pictures, aren't there? Little pictures of me doing stupid things like, the one where I'm trying to drink out of the toilet with the dog."

Trish smiled diabolically. "Don't be silly Brandon. Little pictures really don't illustrate the tiny nuances of such things. No no, that's why I made them into a slideshow, for the big screen. Digitally enhanced for our viewing pleasure.

"You're evil. Just plain, concentrated evil. Satan squeezes out your life essence and drinks it."

"Oh Bran Bran. Sweet sweet Brannie poo." She pulled me into an embrace, patting my head again. "You'll thank me one day for all the effort I've gone through."

I doubted it, I knew the night ahead was going to be full of revelry and embarrassment. I was not looking forward to it.

"...and this was the time that he had watched Sesame Street and went into the trash can looking for Oscar the Grouch."

Uproarious laughter filled the living room as I looked up at the slide. I was probably three, at the time, standing inside the metal trashcan, smudges of dirt and grime on my cheeks, a brown banana peel hung from my left ear. Little Brandon had a giant grin on his face as he stared up into the camera.

"Aww. How cute."

I looked over in the direction of the voice. The guy stood, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest staring back at me. I frowned. I didn't recognize him.

"Who the hell are you?"

I'm Dalton. Trish's cousin." Dalton sat down next to me, pulling his knees up to his chest. "The more important question is why are you out here watching a slide show of yourself from the patio while there's a party being thrown in your honor, inside?"

"I didn't want a party." I grumbled. "Besides the party's not for me, the party is for Trish who hasn't gotten to throw a party in a while."

Dalton nodded. "Yeah, she's like that. She DOES like to throw a party."

"So why are you out here?" I looked at him sideways, trying not to stare. Dalton was beautiful. He had those puppy dog brown eyes, with gorgeous eyelashes. Big full red kissable lips. His hair was a dark mess, in that controlled stylish way, wavy and highlighted blond. “That hat looks stupid, by the way.”

Dalton looked up with his eyes and then back at me. "Trish sent me out here." He grinned. "She didn't want you to be alone."

"Well, I'm fine. You're free to go back in and enjoy the party." I looked back into the living room, through the window.

"Wow. Antisocial much?" Dalton leaned over and bumped my shoulder. "Here, I got you something."

I turned back to Dalton who was holding a pint bottle of whiskey. "It'll make the party more tolerable."

"Thanks but no thanks."

"Oh come on. It's your going away party. You can't have any cake or ice cream. I'm sure a couple of shots." Dalton twisted the cap off and offered me the bottle again. "It'll take the edge off."

I reached for the bottle and took a long swig. I gasped as it burned its way down my throat. "That's shit." I took another swig. "Ack. It's horrible."

Dalton grinned. "Yeah."

"That's a crap gift."

"I didn't say it was a gift. I'm just sharing."

I went to take another swallow.

"Hey. Slow down. I said share. Not give. Share." Dalton took the bottle from my grip, our fingers touching. He raised the bottle to his lips and took a swallow himself, grimacing at the burn. "That is shit."

I smiled. I hadn't eaten since breakfast and then only a bowl of cereal. The alcohol was hitting me fast. I leaned my head back against the wall and peered sideways over at Dalton again, looking at him with one eye closed. I reached for the bottle, letting my hand linger on Dalton's. "You're cute."

Dalton looked up, surprise filling his face. "Wha?"

"Cute. I said you were cute. The girl's must go crazy over you." I took another hit off the bottle.

"Not as much as you think."

"Riiiiight. Just one look at you and they're probably all ga-ga.”

“What about you?” Dalton took the bottle back and held it between his knees looking at me more intently.

“What? What do you mean, what about me? Nobody goes ga-ga over me. I'm just plain. Plain ol' vanilla ice cream. 'Cept I can't have ice cream. I'm like... like... plain ol' tofu. Just a gelat...gelatin...gelatinous blob of goo.” I reached for the bottle, leaning towards Dalton. I felt myself tipping over and rested a hand on one of Dalton's knee to keep my balance. “a blob of goo.”

“No. I meant.” Dalton looked away and shook his head. “Never mind.”

“What? What? You can tell me. We're friends. Best friends.” I laughed and shook my head. Everything was too funny. And we weren't friend. I didn't even know him. “I probably shouldn't...shouldn't drink anymore. I think I'm dru...hic...drunk.”

Dalton smiled and reached for the plastic cap at his side.

“Yoink.” I grabbed the bottle from between Dalton's legs. “Just one more sip.” I upturned the bottled and let the rest of the whiskey slip down my throat. “It's not so bad. Doesn't burn a' all now.” I tossed the bottle over into the bushes on the side of the patio. “shhhhhh, don't tell anyone.”

“Tell anyone what?”

“Exactly! See. I told you we were friends. Ohhh.” I tried to stand up. The world started to go topsy turvy. “I hafta go pee.” I lifted my hand and patted the top of my head. “Where's my hat. Trish made me wear a stupid hat.” I turned in a circle, looking all around it. “My hat, I hafta have my hat.” I staggered a little towards the edge of the patio.

“Woh.” Dalton stood up. “it's okay. You don't need a hat.”

“No. No. No, you don't unnerstand. Trish gave me the hat. She wanted me to have it. She'll be upset...”

“Here. take mine.” Dalton pulled the string from under his chin and pulled off the party hat. He placed it on top of my head and pulled the string down under my chin “There.”

“Aww. That's so sweet.” I wrapped his arms around Dalton's shoulder and leaned into him. His cologne was intoxicating. Oh wait, I was already intoxicated. “You gave me your hat.” I felt my legs start to give out. “Woh...That's a heavy hat.”

Dalton wrapped an arm around my waist. My stomach did a little flip flop. “Here. Let me help you.” He maneuvered us towards the door. “Come on. Put your arm here.” Dalton laced one of my arms around his waist and held it there as we stumbled towards the door. “Now, you have to be quiet.”

“Shhhhhhhh” I held a finger to his lips and then laughed. “I can't believe you got me drunk at my own party.” I whispered. Then I started to sing. “it's my party and I'll cry if I want to...cry if i want to...cry if I want to...you'd cry to if it happened to you.”

“Shhhh.” Dalton put a hand over my mouth. I tried to lick it. “You have to be quiet.” Dalton pulled open the door and shuffled us in quietly. “Where's the bathroom?” He whispered.

I tried to point down the hall but had to steady myself on the door frame. “Is that way.” I laughed into my hand, trying to muffle my laughter as I started to slide down Dalton's side.

“Here we go.” Dalton pulled me back up, tightening his grip around my waist. “Hold on.”

I grabbed on to a door knob as we passed. “It's in here.” I pulled open the door. The closet was filled with coats and boxes. “Oooops. Thas th' closet. Don't wanna go in there.” I slammed the door. “Shhhhhhhh.” I held a finger to his lips again.

Dalton frowned at him and I pulled my finger away from his lips.

“S..sorry.”

“It's okay. You just have to be quiet.”

I leaned over and breathed into Dalton's ear. “It's the next one.” I licked Dalton's earlobe.

Dalton froze.

“Oh my God.” I whispered. “I jus... just licked your ear. I'm so sorry. So sorry.” I wiped at Dalton's ear, running my fingers along his jawline. “Bad Brandon. Bad. Don't be gay.” I admonished myself.

“It's okay. It's okay. Here we are.” Dalton pushed open the door and felt for the light switch, flipping on the light. He propped me against the bathroom sink and started to leave.

“Wait. Wait. You gotta help me.” I pleaded.

“I'll be right out here.”

I pulled on Dalton's hand, pulling him back into the bathroom. I reached behind Dalton and swung the door closed leaving my arm over his shoulder. “You gotta help me.” I looked into his eyes, pleading.

“I can't. I can't help you with this.”

Dalton's eyes rounded as I started pulling on my belt. I felt myself start leaning to my left as I pulled my belt off. “Oh shit.” Dalton held me up as I undid my jeans. “Careful.” I felt the jeans slip down my legs and puddle at my feet. I suddenly felt a bit vulnerable and laid my head in the crook of Dalton's neck. I stood there breathing in and out slowly, waiting for the world to right itself. I felt his arms go around me, caressing up and down my back. I cuddled into his embrace, pulling my arms in front of me and leaning into him. I pulled back and tried to kiss him.

“Hold on. I don't think...”

I kissed him before he could finish. I could taste the whiskey on his lips. At first he didn't react, but then I felt his tongue slip past my lips. I kissed him harder, reaching up and running my fingers through his hair. He pulled me tighter against him and we stumbled against the wall. The towel rack stabbed me in the back and I groaned. I pulled at his shirt, wanting to feel his flesh against mine. I pushed and pulled, fumbling with it till it came out of his jeans. My fingers worked slowly on each button, starting from the top and working my way down. After the first three buttons, Dalton undid the rest and his shirt slipped open revealing his chest. I leaned down and kissed his neck and then his chest. I heard him gasp as I bit one of his nipples. He pulled me back up to face him and kissed me again, biting my lip, sucking my tongue into his mouth our teeth jamming together. At some point my shirt was gone and we were pressed against each other, our hips grinding, my erection tenting my boxers. I ground into his crotch and then fumbled with his jeans, trying to unbutton them.

“Lock the door.” I don't know if I said it or if it was Dalton. Dalton gasped as I grabbed him. He reached back and locked the door. I jerked down his Calvin Kleins and knelt down so that his erection bounced straight into my face. I licked the head and he inhaled with a hiss. He tasted sweet. “You smell like oatmeal cookies.” I looked up at him as I took him into my mouth and he thrust his hips forward, his cock hitting the back of my throat. I almost gagged. I reached back and grabbed his ass, kneading the cheeks roughly while I licked the shaft. My fingers explored his warm crack and I felt his legs spasm. He pulled me back up, one of his balls popping out of my mouth and then he kissed me again, his slick cock stabbing into my crotch sliding under my balls. He ground harder into me, pressing me against the wall. We started slipping sideways and we tilted into the tub. We giggled into each others mouths between kisses. I was lost in him, lost in his scent, in his touch, in his kiss. I looked into his eyes and I knew what he was going to say.

“We can't do this.” He smiled sadly and kissed me again this time without any of the passion. “Not now. Not like this.”

I let out a sigh, knowing it was true. I was leaving in two weeks. I dropped my head onto his chest listening as his heart beat wildly. I kissed his chest again and then tried to sit up, only to slip back down on top of him. I felt myself grin, but the merriment that should have accompanied the smile wasn't there.

“Come on. Let's get you to bed.” He had to push me up off of him and I marveled at his strength. I lay on the floor and watched him pull his clothes back on and then was more trouble than help as he tried to get me dressed again. He lifted me up and wrapped my arm around his waist and I had a sense of deja vu. I snickered to myself. He pulled open the door a crack and peered out. “Which way is your room?” I nudged him to the right and then opened the door to my room. He unceremoniously dropped me on my unmade bed. I stared up at him, my breathing heavy. There was so much that I wanted to say. All I could do was look at the buttons of his shirt. He had missed a button and his shirt was crooked. He lifted my legs up onto the bed and propped me up on my pillows. “Are you going to be okay?” I nodded, then shook my head. I wasn't sure. He leaned down and kissed my forehead. I wrapped my arms around his waist and held onto him not wanting to let go.

“Stay.” I heard the pleading in my voice. “Just to sleep.” He crawled over me on the bed. “Just till I'm gone.” I kicked at the comforter until my feet were under it and then I reached down and pulled it over us. I burrowed into his side and under his arm. He draped his other arm over me.