At his place, I follow him into the kitchen and sit at the island.  He gives me a cup of cocoa and I take a sip.

After a minute of watching his back, doing the dishes, he speaks.  "You're staring."

There's not much else to do.  "So?"

"It's obvious you want to talk about something but you don't know how to bring it up. Must be important."  He says without looking at me.

Sure, I'll play along like earlier today didn't happen.  Note the sarcasm.  "Are you embarrassed about something?"

He giggles.  "You're the one who should be embarrassed."

"Why?"

"You're acting like you've never been kissed on the lips."

I haven't, but he knows there's more to it.  He's throwing a fishing line for me, but I'm not latching.

Brendon freezes now, turning off the water.  "You have, haven't you?"  He's still not facing me but asks incredulously.

"No."  Okay, I'm approaching the line, but there's still a chance to turn back.

I hear him swallow hard and clear his throat as he grabs a towel to dry his hands.  "Well, there's a first time for everything, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes."

"So... did you like your first kiss?"

"I guess."  Still not latching.

He exhales a small sigh of relief.  I don't think he meant for me to hear it.  "Would you... ever do it back to me?"

"Maybe."  Still not latching.

There's a moment of silence.  "What was it like, when I kissed you?"

I think about it for a second.  "I don't know."

He sighs in disappointment, proceeding to move the dishes from the sink to the dish rack next to the sink.

I've gotta get away from this line.  And I think I know exactly how.  "Is Sarah dead?"

He's frozen again, then harshly turns to face me.   "What makes you ask that?"   His tone is a mixture of anger and sadness.

Not gonna lie, that's a valid question.  There's not a single picture of her around here, and whenever we're together, his ring is always off.  Not to mention, the dress he finger - fucked me in and insisted I keep.  Then again, I should keep him guessing.

"Because I talk shit about her?  I'll admit, when I married her, I didn't think it'd turn out the way it did, but we're working through it.  Alright, that's..." he rubs his face with his hands.  "That's not my fault, it's not hers either."

I sip my cocoa.

"For fuck's sake," he whispers angrily, taking out his phone and aggressively pressing the screen. He nearly throws it down in front of me, revealing a woman's Instagram with the username SarahUrie and he scrolls through some photos, all with the caption #Belgium.   "Look at the dates, this one was taken yesterday, these were last week..."

None of these photos are liked by him, as indicative by the empty heart.  Yet, he knows she's posting.

"So yes, she is very much alive, Callie.   Is that enough proof for you?"  Now it's anger and sarcasm.

I sip my drink again.

"Oh," his voice is soft now, but his expression is stern as he takes his phone back.  "I see what you're doing.  You're trying to frustrate me."

Yep.

"Sexually."

Nope.

He presses his hands onto the island countertop.  "Poor Callie, you must be dripping down there."

He'll think of anything to get in my underwear, won't he?

Brendon purses his lips.   "But I don't want you dripping, I want you soaking."

That answers my rhetorical question.  Typical male.

"Sit on the floor behind the couch," He says with a low inflection in his voice.

Believe it or not, I'm legitimately contemplating if I should say no.  If I should put the money on the table and leave.   Now that I think about it, that might turn him on more.

Calmly, I get down from the stool and go to the couch, holding the back of it for balance as I sit on the floor with my back against it, propping one knee in front of my chest and hanging my arm over it, allowing the other leg to be straight on the floor.  Brendon's still at the island for a couple of seconds, then makes his way over and towers me, staring into my eyes.

"Hold out your wrists," he says.  I do as he unbuckles and removes his belt, then kneels on one knee to get down to my level, binding my wrists.   "Don't move."

He knows me.   I won't budge.

The belt becomes tight as he loops it through the buckle, closing on my small wrists and digging into my carpal joints.

This is dangerous for both of us.  I should've just walked away.  We have to stop before we're caught.  "Don't stop," I say monotone.

He smirks, "Don't worry, you're gonna like this next part."

Brendon moves me a bit so my back is off the couch.  He sits down behind me, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear and lying me on his chest.  "Are you okay?"  A kiss lands on my neck.

I don't make an effort to stop him as he keeps kissing that area.  "Are you gonna hurt me?"

"Why would I do that?"  Another kiss.  "You're too beautiful for that."

My gaze fixates on the floor.

"Are you asking me to hurt you?"

"Doesn't matter, does it?"

"Don't say that."  He kisses my temple.  "You matter... to me. You like this too, don't you?"

"Are you sure it's not to arouse you?"

"Trust me, I'm not the only one."  He places his hand on my inner thigh, causing me to gasp a bit.

"Fuck."

"Relax, baby. I don't bite.   Unless you want me to."  His tone is deep and seductive as his fingers trace the side of my neck.  "Can I check you now?"

"Hmm?"

"You know..."

"Are you asking to touch me?"

"I didn't say it directly.  But you're smart so I guess I might as well have."  He chuckles.

It's not like I have much of a choice now, do I?  At this point, I've taken a break from digging the hole to be tied up for his amusement.  "I doubt your finger could simulate your dick."

He chuckles again.  "You're right about that, but I'll try my best."

Brendon kisses my cheek multiple times.  Through my peripheral vision, I see his fingers, the ones attached to the hand that held my shoulder.  Methodically, they travel down to my chest, finally to my pants.  Still kissing, he opens the button and slides into my underwear.

He smirks against my neck.  "Good to know you're still shaving down there."  He doesn't leave a single area untouched.  When he gets to my clit, my shoulders tense and I let out a small gasp.  I can tell even Brendon is taken aback.  "Looks like I found your pleasure spot."  He kisses me again, still navigating the area.  "That'll be of good use later."

My eyes fall shut, and another moan escapes me.

"God, you're tight.  I don't think this'll be enough to loosen you up."

I bite my lip.  Exerting another moan.  My knee straightens out as my shoulders relax, and soon, my whole body.  My mouth goes slack as I exert more hot air.   The eyelids I struggle to keep open remain shut.  My wrists stay in front of me, resting on my stomach with the taut leather holding them in place.

"Hmm," I moan.

"Say my name.  I want to hear it from you."

"Brendon..."

"Again."  He pushes a bit harder, causing my hands to curl into fists.

I inhale sharply again, then slowly let it out.  "Brendon... " The toes of my converse shoes twitch. His erection is in full effect.

"What are you doing to me, Callie Armstrong?"  Brendon's mouth connects with my neck.  He lightly moans, traveling up and down the area.  Two fingers slip inside of me.  "You're enjoying this, aren't you, Callie?"  His other arm is wrapped around my chest.

I bite my lip, exerting another moan.

"You're dripping more now," he smiles against my neck.  "You've secretly been begging for this, haven't you?"

I've lost sensation in my left wrist.

"Do you want to cum?"  He whispers seductively.

"Y-yes."

"Beg for it."

"Please."

"Are you sure?"

"I need to," I breathe.   "It hurts."

"Say that again with my name."

"I need to cum, Brendon.  I - It hurts. Please... Brendon."  My right wrist has gone numb.

"I'm in control now, understand?"

"Yes."

"That's more like it,"

My eyes roll to the back of my head and I feel my body starting to go limp.

He pecks my neck and whispers, "Let go for me."  I do, gasping harshly as he slides his fingers out and I hear him sucking on them.  "You're so sweet, Callie."

You've got me so fucked up, Brendon Urie.