Summary: Dylan has his first kiss when he least expects it. �
"Have you ever kissed someone?"
I snigger quietly, I never knew that my friend spoke in his sleep. However my assumption is squashed flat when the deep baritone speaks again, close to my ear.
"Have you ever kissed someone?"
I never would have dreamed that Mathew would ask that sort of question. Mathew, the one who I know, sits next to me in class everyday in broad daylight and chews on the end of an old HB pencil when he concentrates too much. In fact, that Mathew wouldn't ask me those questions but apparently this one could. The one who's so close I can see every dark eyelash that frames his hazel eyes. I'm surprised to see that there is actually a little green in them, close to the iris that I never noticed before.
"Dylan," he says impatiently and shakes me with one hand. I roll over to look at my friend and almost flinch.
He's resting his head on the edge of my pillow, even though we're supposed to be top and tail and he's so close that I can feel his breath on my cheek. I try not to think about the tingling sensation this creates, or how little shivers runs down my neck, cool like water and then it continues along my arms and those definitely aren't goose bumps-
"What?" I ask as quietly as possible, but it comes out much more hoarse than I had intended
"Have you," he says, his lips tilting up slightly.
"No, I haven't. What about you?" It's nice really, laying here in my bed, and with Mathew close enough for me to feel how warm he is and also feel a bit funny inside. We were having to whisper because my parents were just in the next room, and Luke was sprawled out on the floor but that was part of the delicious secrecy of it.
"No. I wonder what's like?"
It's weird, it never occurred to me that Mathew would wonder about this sort of thing as well. I suppose he must, and it really shouldn't be such a surprise to find out that my friend is a normal teenager but…he always seems so…composed. I always thought school, loitering and computer games were his main concerns.
"I don't know." I whisper. Then something occurs to me, which makes me feel a little hurt. I try to think of a way to express myself without calling him a liar. In the end I settle for, "I can't believe you've never kissed Amy."
Amy was a pretty girl in our form, I like her because she's friendly and doesn't call me a scene kid. Why everyone assumes I'm emo or scene, just because I wear converse is beyond me. Ok, so I have a fringe, but my hair is blonde and it's just naturally straight. It sticks up at the back because I can't be bothered to comb it. I suppose I'll just have to accept it, anyway it's one of the reasons why I like her.
I hold my breath, waiting for a confession and the explanation that he wanted to make me feel better about my inexperience. Mathew sighs again, and I have to suppress another shiver. I really, really don't want him to realise how much I'm enjoying his proximity. The last thing I want to do is explain to my parents why he fled my bedroom shrieking, never to return. "She didn't let me."
My brain seemed to short circuit at his answer. So he did like Amy after all. Of course he likes her you idiot, part of me screams, he only follows her around the school all day, every day. "Oh," I mutter intelligently, finding it hard to think of anything to say.
"I thought you liked her though?" he asks, shifting forwards and moving his arm so that he can rest his head on his hand.
I shrug, and feel confused. I've never made it look like I fancy her, at least I don't think so. Well, I help her with her history homework but I don't think that could be construed as an infatuation.
"I do like her, just not you know…in that way." I answer nervously, why did he have to move even closer?
I swallow thickly, trying to moisten my mouth, which has become inexplicably dry and hard to talk with. I shift on the bed, trying to make some more space between us and hoping he couldn't see how flustered I was feeling.
"So…who do you want to kiss?" Mathew persisted. For some reason he was unnaturally interested in this. I'm just glad its dark and he can't see how my face has turned bright pink at his words.
"I-I don't know," I whisper uncertainly, "Nobody, I suppose."
I can see his brow furrow slightly even though the amount of light coming through my window is tiny. It most be about 4am, and here we are talking about whom I want to kiss. This is surreal.
"What about that boy who picks you up from school?"
I make a strangle sound, and can't help raising my voice at this," That's my brother, that's so disgusting!"
I shove him playfully and he laughs aloud.
"Shhh!" I hush him, "You'll wake everyone up."
"I didn't mean your brother anyway, stupid. I meant his friend, the one with the emo haircut. He looks like a greasy Mexican. What about him?" he asks smirking at me.
"Don't call him a greasy Mexican," I say quickly, feeling aggravated and without really thinking about what I said. I realise my mistake when Mathews smirk widens. Great, now he thinks I'm love with Fenton, (One of my brothers friends who I've only seen occasionally).
"So you would kiss him," Mathew croons at me and I hit him on the shoulder again.
"He's a boy, Matt. And he's a lot older than me." I snap at him, folding my arms around me.
"I was only kidding. But would you kiss him- if he kissed you first?" Mathew asks.
If anyone else had asked, I'm sure I would have hit him or her with my pillow, run away or change the subject loudly. As it was, my blush just increased ten fold, making my feel too hot and uncomfortable.
"I don't know," I say hesitantly. "Only if he brought me lots of nice things."
Mathew laughs again, and then look serious.
"I wouldn't mind kissing a guy," he whispers and I almost miss it, he's so quiet. He looks as though he has indulged his most private of secrets, but then, I suppose he kind of has. My brain buzzes with this information but the butterfly in my stomach are distracting me and making it hard to think.
"Do you think it's weird?" He asks, drawing back slightly and looking unsure.
I realise then that I never answered his question. "N-no, um…I wouldn't mind either," I manage to choke out.
"Dylan…" Mathew moves even closer and I stop breathing, afraid of what might happen.
I think I know what might happen.
"Could I…could I kiss you?" he asks.
I breathe out, not knowing what to do but my answer tumbles from my lips without my permission.
Mathew was closer now, far too close. His hand comes up to brush my fringe out of my eyes, my face tingles where his fingertips had been and I shiver as he rests his hand at the back of my neck. The strong arm that wraps around my waist catches me off guard, as does the set of lips that brush against my own.
As he deepens the kiss, my gasp of shock is muffled against his warm lips burning into mine, as he captures my own in a kiss that sends my thoughts tumbling. I reach out shyly, slipping my hands under his shirt and across his stomach, making him moan into my mouth and pull me flushed against him. The hand at the back of my neck tightens, making me shiver in pleasure-
My body feels like it's burning, I'm pressed against his firm body, heat is spreading through my body and I gasp at the extraordinary sensation of his tongue swiping along my lower lip- I moan at the attack upon my senses-
Mathew pulls away, and rests his forehead against my own.
"T-that was more than I kiss," I gasp, hating how breathy I sound.
"Mmm…" He mumbles, resting his head in the crook of my neck. Which is nice but just increases the rush of energy over my skin.
"I…I think I like kissing," I offer quietly.
I feel him smile against my neck and doesn't say anything for a while and then-
"Me too," he whispers.
"You lied," I mutter, pulling at his hair. No way had he not kissed before.
He just laughs, "Goodnight, Dylan."
"Goodnight," I venture. Even though I liked the kiss. A lot.I'm still glad when he moves back a little and rests his head on his own pillow.
A/N: This is so UN attractive, it's hilarious.