"How about lets not go to Spencer's tonight..." Ryan starts, while tracing hearts onto my hip with his index finger, "how about we just stay home and have sex all night."

I laugh, and press my face into his soft, but damp, post-sex hair, taking in a deep breath, then force back a giggle as it tickles the inside of my nose. "My god, kid. Do you ever stop?"

"Hm..." he hums, looking up at my ceiling in thought. He smiles, then shakes his head as he turns to face me and presses a big wet kiss in my lips. "Yeah, no. Not really. Our sex is just too fantastic," he replies, murmuring into my lips.

"It is," I agree, pressing closer to him as I run my tongue along his bottom lip. He lets out a small appreciative noise, and parts his lips, allowing my tongue to slip all the way into his mouth, sliding along his own tongue.

He pushes right back against me; gasping as his already semi-erection brushes up against my hip. And it's like, oh my goodness, we just finished this like, ten minutes ago and we're starting at it again? Please don't let this be a 'honeymoon stage' let us be like this forever, and ever, and ever.

I maneuver myself onto him, my own growing erection sliding against his, making us both let out soft moans of delight. I move my mouth to his collarbone, nibbling long enough until I'm sure I've made a mark.

"Hurry, hurry," Ryan orders breathlessly, tapping on my shoulders, as I make my way down his chest. "Your mom's gonna be home soon."

"Right," I mumble as I run my tongue along one of those gorgeous hipbones as his. I nibble a bit, smirking as he bucks his hips while letting out a small noise, because I just found out recently, if you nibble the right way, his right hipbone is totally his weak spot.

"Brendon," he whines, gripping at my shoulder.

I smile, and nudge my nose into his pubic hair, before grabbing the base of his cock, and taking a small lick at his tip. He moans, and bucks his hips up more.

"Come on, come on," he prods voice quiet and breathless.

I take him into my mouth, sliding him into the hollow of my cheek. He's already moaning, and writhing above me and I've barely even started. This kid is far too easy.

I run my tongue along the underside of his cock, slipping in a little bit of teeth, because I know that's also another one of his things. I can feel spit running down my chin, and I can already taste some of his precome, but I keep going, hollowing my cheeks and sucking hard.

He grips at my hair, tugging more than a little softly, which only makes me moan into his cock, because yeah, that's one of my things.

I nudge his right leg with my hand, motioning for him to spread his legs, then shove two fingers up towards his mouth, my own mouth still hard at work. He almost instantly takes them into his mouth, layering them with spit, as he practically mouth-fucks my fingers. I'll tell you right now, Ryan has certainly opened up to my fingers since our first time. This one time, I nearly got him off by just using my fingers alone. That was a good day.

I'm only just prying his ass cheeks apart, my finger prodding at his entrance when the front door slams downstairs and my moms voice yells, "Boys, I'm home!"

My eyes go as wide as saucers, mouth and fingers frozen, and Ryan lets out a loud, whine of discontent. It's not until I hear my moms shoes clicking against the staircase, that I pull my mouth from Ryan's leaking cock, and my fingers from his ass, to turn to see the door is wide open.

I jump off the bed, completely naked with a very painful boner of my own; as I run over to the door and slam the door shut before my mom gets to the top of the stairs and sees us. Yeah, if she didn't know we were having sex before she certainly does now.

I turn to look at Ryan, who's all spread out naked on my bed, all hot and bothered, looking like he's about to cry. "Brendon," he whines again, and just god, look at that glorious penis of his.

Why, mom, why?! Why did you have to do this to me?!

There's a soft knock at my door, and I'm still standing there completely naked, torn between just jumping onto the bed and fucking Ryan senseless even though my moms like, right outside my door. "Brendon? Ryan?"

Ryan bites onto his lip, but looks up at me with pleading eyes, like you cannot do this to me, Brendon! And oh my god, I know, I so can't.

"Yeah, mom," I squeak. "Just give us a few minutes."

Uh, yeah, totally knows.

"Oh goodness." She sighs, but I hear her footsteps retreat down the hall and into her room.

I practically dive back onto the bed, press back against Ryan, and take his throbbing erection into my hand. "Shhh," I whisper, as I slowly begin to pump my hand up and down.

He nods, and then moves to bite onto my shoulder, muffling a moan into my skin.

I press my lips to his forehead, as I work my hand up and down his length, moving a quicker pace, because he just needs to finish like, right now. Thankfully, it's only a minute or so before he's letting go all over my hands, his moan loud, but still mostly muffled into my shoulder. However, I have no doubt that my mom still heard it.

I let him go, and grab onto a couple of tissues from my nightstand, and toss one at Ryan, before wiping my hand off. Ryan's all flushed and out of breath as he cleans off his stomach, then presses a quick kiss to my lips.

I'm still hard as we struggle back into our clothes, but I know we already pushed it with getting Ryan off, so I'm sure I'll find some way to live.

Damn you, mom!

Once we get our clothes on, I'm just about to open the door to go and face my mom, before Ryan's dashing over to me. "Wait, wait." He laughs as he comes up to me, and wipes my chin with his thumb. "You have a little bit of my come and your spit on you."

I blush, because thank god he saw that before my mom did. "Thanks," I mumble.

He smiles, as we leave my room, and he leans into my ear, mumbling, "Oh my god, this is going to be so embarrassing."

I nod in agreement.

My moms sitting in the living room with the TV, she looks up once we get downstairs, takes one look at our disheveled appearance and smirks. She pats down on the couch beside and her and goes, "Come here, I think we need to have a little chat."

Oh god, please don't say it's the chat I'm thinking it is. Please say she's going to tell me we're getting a puppy or something. Anything, please.

We take a hesitant seat beside her, a few, good inches away, faces burning. I can just imagine what we probably smell like.

"So, guys," she starts, pressing mute on the TV. And oh god, that is so not a good sign. My mom only mutes her soaps when she has to say something very important. "Sex," she says, and that's it. I turn five shades of red, and cough a little. I'm sure Ryan does somewhere around the same thing.

"Mom!" I cry, burying my face in my hands.

"What?" she asks, feigning innocence. "If you're having it you should be able to talk about it."

"I am able to talk about it!" I cry, defensively. "Just not with you, and I'd like to keep it that way, please."

Ryan coughs beside me, and sinks into the couch.

She shakes her head, like I'm just so weird for feeling this way, and goes, "You guys are using protection, right?"

"Yes, mom," I groan, sinking back into the couch myself. Gosh, why can't she just leave me alone, and pretend she doesn't know I'm having sex, and save me this torturing conversation. Seriously. My mom hates me. "We've already had this conversation before."

"I know, but that was before you guys were actually doing it," she replies, wiping an invisible speck of lint off her blouse. "I just want to make sure you guys are safe. I know there isn't going to be a baby in nine months or anything, and from what I know, you boys have never been with anyone else," she says, and my heart pounds harder in my chest. Because yeah, I was totally a virgin before Ryan - cough, cough. "But, still, you can never be too careful."

"Yeah, mom, thanks," I mumble, and I can practically feel Ryan's hot face radiating onto me. "Can we go now?"

"No, I'm not done," she replies.

I groan, and close my eyes.

"I'm pretty open about this kind of thing," she starts, looking at me and Ryan, who are practically curled into ourselves we're so embarrassed, "and I'm not going to tell you, you cant have sex, because what's that going to do? It's not like you're going to listen to me, anyway."

Pfft, yeah, that's for sure.

"I know you guys are smart," she continues, "but sex is a very personal thing, and I know you've heard this before, but it's not something you just go and throw around, just because some guy is hot or you like him. You have to really care about them. I'm not saying you two don't, because I know you care about each other a lot, I'm just saying for in the future. Listen to someone who's made these mistakes themselves. I just don't want you boys to do the same."

Oh my god, my mom did not just tell me she's had lots of sex in her life. I cringe at the thought. Oh god, my mom. Sex. Eww.

Ryan looks up, meekly, face still red as he squeaks out, "Thanks."

She nods, then reaches over to pat his knee, and then moves to ruffle my hair. "You're welcome," she says. She grins, looking between us before stopping on Ryan and going, "You know what?" We both look at her, eyebrow raised, as she continues, still smiling, "I don't think Brendon could have picked a better boyfriend."

I beam back, because I don't think I could have either.

- - -

There is nothing better than Spencer's grandma's house, hands down. It's just made of awesome, from her billion inch TV complete with over a thousand channels and wicked surround sound, to her XBOX, GameCube and Playstation II. It's really just a teenage boys dream.

She's also got a cabinet full with a million different types of alcohol, tucked into the corner of the room, unlocked. Halfway through the night, Spencer pulls out a bottle of whiskey, and wriggles his eyebrows suggestively. Jon's up for it and so am I, but then Ryan narrows his eyes and goes, "If you guys drink that I'm seriously getting up and leaving."

Spencer sighs, defeated, and puts it back. He looks over at Jon and me and goes, "Next weekend, us three."

I almost agree, until I realize that wouldn't be much fun, cause I can just assume what that nights gonna be like. I wont get past twenty minutes before Spencer and Jon off somewhere, fucking and I'll be left alone. I know how alcohol works, plus, they're horny enough as it is sober.

Ryan gives me a look like, I'll chop off your dick if you drink and eat it for breakfast, and I figure that pretty much makes the decision for me anyway.

So, instead of drinking we spend the rest of the night watching a marathon of Family Guy, and playing videogames after videogames until we're sure our brain is going to melt into a big pile of goo.

At two, we decide it's time to go to bed. Spencer and Jon call the pullout couch, and me and Ryan are stuck on the hard, uncomfortable floor with nothing but our sleeping bags as cushions.

Ryan curls into me, and pecks me a quick kiss goodnight. However, Spencer and Jon don't seem to have the same courtesy, because all I can hear for twenty minutes is the disgusting wet, smacking sound of their lips and tongue. It makes me want to puke.

Ryan, of course, falls asleep almost instantly, his shallow breathing running down my neck, his arms limp around my waist. Ten minutes later, after a moan and still no sign of them stopping, I get up and go upstairs to the washroom, hoping maybe they'll stop by the time I'm done my piss.

It's dark upstairs as I stumble down the hall, but I manage to find the bathroom, and flick on the light. I blink a few times, my eyes stinging as it gets used to the light. I end up standing in front of the mirror, and stare at myself. I do this sometimes, were I just stand in front of a mirror, looking over my features, scrutinizing myself. It doesn't take too long before I find at least five things wrong with me. You know, my eyes are too far apart. Why do my lips have to be so huge? Look at my fat hips. Oh my god, don't even get me started on my ass. I really have to do something with my eyebrows; they look like big, fat, black caterpillars.

I stand in front of the mirror and wonder, why would someone who looks like Ryan like someone who looks like me? Ryan's so perfect, and I'm so... not.

Eventually, I tear myself away from the mirror, my self esteem down a few more notches. Halfway through my piss, there's a soft knock at the door, and Ryan's voice whispering, "Hey, it's me. Let me in."

"I'm taking a piss," I hiss back.

He turns the knob, but it's locked. "Hurry then," he says, and then I can just hear the pout as he quietly adds, "I'm lonely, and Spencer and Jon are doing things that I don't even want to know."

I laugh, stick my dick back in my boxers and flush the toilet. I barely have the door unlocked, and open before something (that I'm assuming is Ryan, at least I'd hope it is) is lunging at me, slamming the door behind us and pushing me all the way into the far wall. I hiss in pain as the corner of the towel rack digs into my back, but Ryan's kissing me so hard, and running his hands up the inside of my shirt, fingers burning my skin, that I quickly forget about it.

"Ryan," I start through wet kisses, "What are you doing?"

He doesn't reply, instead he just pries his lips from mine long enough to slide my shirt over my head and toss it onto the floor, along with his, which lands somewhere in the direction of the toilet. I take a moment to look over him, with his boxers hanging so dangerously low of those amazingly, sexy hips of his. He sends me a mischievous smirk, along with a rising of an eyebrow as he catches me checking him out. My stomach jumps, because fuck, seriously, his boxers are so low and so tight they might as well not even be on.

And by the looks of it... they won't be soon enough.

He pushes me back up against the towel rack, his warm body pressed against me, and his mouth going back to attacking me. "I want you so bad right now, Bren," Ryan murmurs lustily into my lips.

I can't help but moan, because oh my god, so hot. "Ryan," I choke out, breathless, "We're in Spencer's grandma's bathroom."

He shrugs, and starts pushing my boxers down my hips. "We'll be quiet. Plus, she's asleep, she won't even know."

"Ryan," I whine, but I know there's no use in trying to argue. My penis is going to win anyway.

"Fuck, you are so fucking hot, B," he moans, as he slides my boxers all the way down my thighs, biting at my neck.

I moan back, but inside I'm still thinking, No, I'm really not.

He nibbles at my earlobe, running his tongue along the shell of my ear, once my boxers are in a pile at my feet. He pushes me back a little, as I go to work on his boxers. Before I know it, or really have a chance to think, I'm falling back into the bathtub, smacking my head on the porcelain. Ryan falls down on top of me, boxers halfway down his thighs as he giggles and goes back to kissing me. My head throbs but I kiss him back anyways.

There's really no way Spencer's Grandma didn't hear that.

Ryan shifts, going to pull his boxers off completely, and tossing them onto the floor, out of the bathtub. He moves to straddle my hips, leaving my cock to push up against his ass. I moan some more.

"Come on, lets be quick," he says, grabbing onto a bottle of Head & Shoulders shampoo from the ledge. "I don't want to get interrupted again."

Yeah, I really, really don't want to either.

He squeezes some of the shampoo out onto his fingers, and lathers it on, then hands the bottle to me. He uses his other hand to grab onto my shoulder for support, before he's hoisting himself up, and pushing his own finger into himself. Holy fuck, so hot.

He throws his head back, biting onto his bottom lip as he clutches onto my shoulder, turning my skin red. He adds a second finger in, letting out a little noise behind his bitten lip. I try not to orgasm just from the incredibly hot sight of Ryan finger-fucking himself.

He doesn't take very long before removing his fingers, because he probably didn't even need to stretch himself in the first place seeing as I fucked him far more times than I can count in the last few days, and he grabs the shampoo back from my hands.

He squeezes a big, pile of shampoo into the palm of his hands, then reaches forward to rub it all over my length, which is already hard as hell. I can't help it as I moan, sounding somewhat as a needy whore, and quite loudly too. Sorry, I just can't help it.

"Shutup!" Ryan hisses, eyes wide and demanding, as he covers my mouth with a soapy hand. "Spencer's Grandma is going to hear!"

Too late, because just as Ryan's grabbing onto my cock, and slowly lowering himself down, there's a knock at the door, and an old woman voice going, "Is everything okay in there?"

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Not again! Why can't me and Ryan just be left alone to have sex?!

"Yes," I squeak, face red with frustration and embarrassment.

Then, just like that, Ryan lowers himself onto my cock in one swift motion, and he throws his head back, biting his lip to block out the moan. However, I don't have anytime to try and mask any noises, and a loud moan slips from my lips.

Holy mother fucker of goodness. Fuck, he is ever fucking tight and wonderful.

There's a pause on the other side of the door, and I send Ryan a harsh look. "Are you sure you're okay, dear?" Mrs. Smith finally asks.

"Yeah, fine," I squeak again, keeping my warning eyes on Ryan. "Don't you dare move," I mouth.

However, Ryan decides not to listen to me as he smirks, hoists himself up, and then thrusts back down into me.

I gasp, and grab onto my hips, digging my nails into him, forbidding him to move. "Fuck you!" I whisper-scream. I take a deep breath, calming my voice before replying. "I'm just... I think those taco's we had tonight we're um, I don't think they settled right," I lie, forcing back the laughter.

Ryan cups his hand over his mouth, shaking with silent giggles.

"Oh... well, there's some pepto bismol in the cupboard if you need any," she replies.

"Ok -" I start, but I'm cut off when Ryan starts rocking back and forth on my cock, eyes fluttering shut with pleasure. I stifle a moan, and force a cough, "Okay, th-thanks. G-goodnight."

"Goodnight, son. Feel better," she says slowly, like she almost doesn't want to believe that's what's really wrong, but then I hear her soft footsteps pad down the hall and a door snap shut.

I let go of Ryan's hips, and smack him across the head, lightly. "You asshole!" I cry, softly. "I can't believe you just did that!"

He smirks, still rocking back and forth with his eyes shut. I let my head fall back, smacking it against the cool tile, but I'm in far too much pleasure to even feel it.

I grab back onto his hips, lifting him up enough for him to thrust back down. I let out a semi-loud moan, and he moves his hands that still smell like shampoo to my mouth. "You are so fucking loud," he hisses, he uses his other hand to grab onto the back of my neck, and digs his sharp fingernails into the skin.

He shoves a few fingers in my mouth, as he thrusts back down against me, keeping the moan from slipping out. I end up biting down onto his fingers, fairly hard, but he doesn't seem to notice. He just continues to bounce up and down on my lap, bottom lip in between his teeth, and his eyes slipped shut.

God, how is it possible for someone to be so hot? Just looking at him right now would be enough to make me come.

I wrap my hand around his leaking cock, and start stroking to the best of my ability. He lets out a tiny moan as he goes back to rocking against me. Sweat is trickling down his forehead from doing mostly all of the work, and our chests are moist and sticky. And just god, this is so fucking hot.

He pulls his fingers from my mouth, and replaces them with his lips. My hands still at work as he slides his tongue into my mouth. "Fuck, you just feel so good," Ryan finally let's himself moan, quietly.

"Ugh, you too," I mumble back, voice shaking as I feel my orgasm build up.

I thrust up into him, and he lets out a loud moan of my name, and drops his forehead against mine. "Gah - so close," he murmurs, his hot breath splaying across my lips.

"Me too, me too," I whine, over and over again, feeling myself hit his swollen prostate dead-on with every thrust.

He wraps his arms tight around my neck, and presses his warm cheek to mine, breath tickling the back of my ear as he bounces up and down, his cock and my hand rubbing up against my stomach.

"Oh, fuck," Ryan breathes as I swipe my thumb over his tip, as he comes hard, covering my hands and our stomachs completely.

I moan, and he thrusts down on me, riding through his orgasm, and it's almost too much to take. My head's all fuzzy, and I can feel my orgasm building up all the way from my toes. It only takes me one more, extremely hard thrust up into him, before I'm letting go deep inside of him, yelling out profanities in the process.

That's when I realize, oh shit, we didn't use a condom.

Ryan doesn't seem to care, or maybe even notice as he moans out loud, and attacks my lips with his. "Shit, shit, shit," he breathes, gripping onto my forearms.

A few minutes later, once we have calmed our breathing down, he pulls back to look at me, damp hair matted to his forehead, eyes half-lidded, and face flushed. We're silent for awhile, as his eyes move over my face, from my mouth all the way to my eyes. Slowly, he says, like he's just letting it sink in himself, "We didn't use a condom."

"I know," I reply, taking a deep breath. I know Ryan's clean, and I'm 99% sure I am, but still... you never know, right?

He swallows, and his eyes dart away, over to the mirror above the sink, but we're too low down to see ourselves. "I can't believe I forgot about that," he whispers. "I never do."

"Me neither."

He sighs, and lifts himself up, pulling himself off my cock while letting out a pained gasp. He stands up, running his hands through his hair, as some of my come drips from his ass, down his thigh and onto my knee with a splat.

He gets out of the bathtub, and grabs a handful of toilet paper, tossing it to me before getting some himself. I lay back in the bathtub for awhile, watching him as he mops up his stomach and the inside of his thighs, looking like he's about to burst out crying. And fuck, of course our amazingly hot sex got ruined by our ignorance.

"Ryan, look," I start, wiping my hand off with the grainy toilet paper. "It's gonna be okay. You're not going to get pregnant or anything, and I'm almost positive I'm clean."

"Almost," Ryan repeats, as he chucks the wad of dirty toilet paper into the toilet.

"99% sure," I say, running over my eyes in distress. "Me and Ethan always used protection. Plus, it's been a long time since I had sex with him and there haven't been any signs or anything."

"What about HIV? You wouldn't know about that," he replies, grabbing onto his boxers, and sliding them on.

"Ryan." I sigh, looking up at the ceiling in exasperation. "I don't have HIV."

He looks at me, tears swimming in his eyes. "You don't know that though, Brendon," he says, voice cracking.

I hoist myself out of the bathtub; toss my own dirty toilet paper into the toilet, before flushing it down. I stand before him, hands on his hips. "I don't, alright?" He looks down and doesn't reply. "Look, if it'll make you feel better we can go and get checked."

"That wont make any of a difference now, would it?" he snaps, and squirms his way out of my hold, and grabs onto his t-shirt, throwing it over his head.

"Ryan, Christ," I cry, stepping into my boxers on as he looks himself over in the mirror, eyes red. "You can't just get mad at me. You forgot the condom too. It's not just my fault."

He shakes his head, and heads towards the door, opening it just as I'm sliding my boxers over my hips. I look down at the bathtub, making sure we didn't leave any of our come behind, and then follow after him, with my shirt clutched in my hand. "Ryan," I hiss, chasing after him.

He ignores me, and continues down the stairs, into the basement where Jon and Spencer are sleeping (or fucking). And this is totally not fucking fair at all. How can he be mad at me when he was the one that wanted sex so bad and then forgot the condom? If it wasn't for him we wouldn't even be having this problem. We'd be tucked in our sleeping bags, asleep.

We tiptoe across the basement floor, the only light coming from the moon, pouring in through the tiny window just about the pullout couch. Spencer and Jon are motionless, and there are no sounds of kissing, just Jon snoring. Ryan crawls under the sleeping bag, as quietly as he can, but it's pretty much pointless because it just crinkles and slides under him.

I go to get in after him, even though he's all pissy and mad at me, but I mean, he's gonna have to deal with it, cause where else am I suppose to sleep?

"You guys totally fucked in my grandma's bathroom, didn't you?" Spencer's sleepy voice asks from above us.

I stop dead in my tracks, one foot on my sleeping bag. "No..." I say slowly, but yeah, again, I suck at lying.

"Oh god, that's disgusting," he groans, the mattress creaking under his weight as he shifts. "Did you at least clean up after yourself?"

"Yeah," I mumble, face burning as I crawl under the blanket, next to Ryan. He feels tense next to me.

"Fuck, guys," he curses, letting out a long breath. "You guys are sick. This is my grandma's house."

"Oh, whatever, it's not like you and Jon haven't fucked here before," I hiss back.

"We haven't..." he says slowly, but yep, he's clearly a terrible liar too.

"Yeah, okay," I say, doubtful. "Goodnight, Spencer."

Ryan doesn't say anything; he just shuffles next to me, and presses his face into the pillow. He's at least four inches away from me, but I can feel the heat radiating off his body and it kills. I've never fallen asleep in the same bed, or at least this close to him, and not been touching him in some way.

"Night." Spencer yawns, and the bed shuffles above us more, before it's completely quiet.

I take a few minutes, staring up at the ceiling in complete agony. I know I'm clean, and I know I don't have HIV. I mean, I'd know, right? Plus, it's not like Ethan slept around or anything, so how would he have it? If he did, he would have known, especially after a year of us going out, right?

Ryan's just being paranoid, there's no way.

At least, fuck... I hope not.

Finally, I just decide, fuck it, and slide over, pressing into him as I whisper into his ear, "It's gonna be okay."

He doesn't reply, and he's far too tense underneath my touch. I wrap my arm around him anyway, and keep my mouth pressed close to his ear. Slowly, he begins to loosen up under me. He turns his towards me, and quietly goes, "It better be."