I'm pushed against a wall in an empty, magnolia corridor. It's harsh on the back of my head and it begins to throb, but it ebbs away like the tide when Parker presses his body and his lips against mine, over and over again. It's not possible for his face to be closer than it already is but I damn well try, and his fingers caress every part of my body. He runs them under my shirt, his nails scratching over each muscle, each part of my limbs and my chest and my neck.

His lips move down to my throat, and I realise that that, that thing that just happened, was my first kiss. My first kiss, and I didn't even know until after it happened. My stomach does a flip and I don't know if it's because my first kiss wasn't with Oliver or because Parker's bit my neck and it feels fucking fantastic.

Am I even good at kissing? I fear that asking Parker would kill the mood, and that's my top priority; to not kill the mood.

"Did I mention you were my favourite?" He mumbles in between kisses, each hot on my body.

I don't know why, but it catches me off guard. "What did you say?" But he doesn't answer, just keeps doing things that makes my eyes flutter closed and Jeeeeeesus.

My mind conjures up a drunken hallucination; that this isn't Parker at all, kissing me in an empty hallway of a mansion, but Oliver, his shirt undone and his lips and hair smelling of sea salt.

No. I shove the thoughts out. If I'm going to move on, if I'm going to actually be gay and not Oliver-sexual, I'm going to love and fuck other boys, and it starts with Parker Watts.

I bring his lips back to mine, none of the kisses delicate, but ferocious, and I can't wait to be consumed by this complete douchebag. But when I feel his hands slowly move up my body to take my shirt off, I remember we're in a hallway. There's no one around, but I hear something. My brain is fried; I have no fucking clue if it's me making shit up or if it's an actual noise.

I stop, and Parker looks at me and smirks. "What?" I look down the hall, prizing myself away from him as I step out to get a better view, but there's nothing, just the distance sound of music and cheering and clinking glasses. I feel a tug on the waistband on my jeans behind me. "Come on, there are a shit ton of bed rooms in this place. Let's fuck in all of them." He whispers.

I turn to him and laugh. "You're such a fucking loser."

.....

My head spins and spins as it hits the pillow and this is the best fucking thing I'm about to do.

"Scottie, Scottie, Scottie..."

"I've never done this before."

Parker stops kissing my neck. "Never done what?"

"This. I've never done it."

"You're telling me, as I'm about to suck you off and more, that this is your first sexual experience?"

"Yeah." I nod, and suddenly I'm nervous. "Funny that, right? I'm guessing this isn't your first...time."

He smirks, brings his lips closer to mine, our noses touch. "Scottie, I'm fucking famous. Of course it isn't. Which is why I'm kinda turned on that this is your first time. I'm about to pop Scott Connors' fucking cherry."

"Crackin' headline."

He laughs, says "Say more British things." in my ear.

"Piss off."

"Yeah, like that." I think it's supposed to sound hot but it really isn't. "You know," He speaks in between kisses on my shoulders, on my chest. "We can stop...if you want to...we don't have to do anything."

"Do you want to stop?"

"No, are you crazy?"

"Well then don't fucking say that then."

The room is still spinning, the bed's still spinning, we're both still spinning. Everything is brightly coloured and loud, like Parker's moans in my ear each time I do something right. Apparently, I don't need to worry about condoms because I open one draw and it's like a fucking pinata in the way they practically fall out.

"You expect a lot sex?"

"Of course. Plus, you don't know which room you're gonna end up in, so we have stashes in every room."

"That's not weird at all."

I thought this would be awkward and incredibly unsexy, but it's not, it's fantastic, amazing, my dreams have never done it justice. How can they when I've never truly felt something like this. It feels like hours, but hours that I don't want to end, hours that I don't mind spending the rest of my life in. I'm drunk and I'm high and I'm all those other things that make your fingers tingle and the blood rush. I think we make it to the floor at some point, maybe even against a wall, it all looks the same, all looks a blur.

I lose all my clothes at some point. I don't know where they've gone but do I fucking care? Parker's have gone too and he looks so much better without them. The stupid fucking backward baseball cap goes first and I might set it on fire later. I toss it across the room and it just misses the open window. Parker's body is hot against mine, hot and hot and why didn't I do this sooner? Why did I deprive myself? What was that thing that stopped me from doing this?

I'm a fucking kite, and I never want to come down.