I watch the small boy take a shot and scrunch his nose up in distaste. I snort and shake my head. What a lightweight, he already looks like he's about to topple over. Hell, I'm starting to feel the alcohol streaming through me.

I'm not surprised. I've been drinking a lot tonight. I don't normally do, but nothing fogs up my mind quite like alcohol. And right now, I need my mind to be hazy and unreadable.

Otherwise, I'll think too much about him. My ex. Logan.

Fuck, I hate myself for missing him. Missing his body against mine. But if I had someone else's body against mine, maybe I can pretend for the night that I don't want to fly back to California and beg him to love me.

This is why when my new neighbor told me about a party he was having, I jumped on that invite like I was cliff diving. And I couldn't wait to drown myself in liquor.

So I did. And it didn't take long to find my 'someone else's body' considering the boy I'm taking shots with has been eye-fucking me all night. I can't wait to fuck the shit out of him. To scrub my body free of Logan.

I'm not too sure he'll understand the hinting look I'm giving him considering how drunk he is, but I make my way up the stairs in hopes that he'll receive the message and follow me to a bedroom.

I almost trip up the stairs, but catch myself with the railing. Damn, I must be really hammered. Perfect.

Trying to find an empty bedroom was easier than I thought and I enter what looks like a boy's bedroom.

I wait at the doorway and I see him- fuck, what did that girl say his name was? Something with an R? Ryan?- he stumbles, bumping into the wall and walks past the room I'm waiting for him in. Did he not see me? And I can't call his name because I'm not sure if it's Ryan.

I'm about to call his, hopefully Ryan, name, but he turns around, looking defeated.

I almost laugh. This guy's a trip. I'm gonna have fun with him.

When he's in my reach, I take a step out of the doorway, grab his wrist and pull him into the bedroom.

A startled and cute gasp falls from his lips when I pin him against the door once I have it locked. My hands are above his head, keeping him between the door and my body. "I knew you'd follow me," I say in a hushed tone and he grins. I rub my knee slowly in between his legs. He looks like he could cum just from me teasing him. Oh God, this better not be his first time, but I'm too drunk to care, so I continue. "You were staring at me all night."

"Me staring at you? Pretty sure it's the other way around." He still has that goofy smile on his mouth. I can take in his features now that I'm up close. He has flawless, pale skin. High cheekbones and think, dark eyebrows. Short eyelashes, but it doesn't matter because it's those fucking green eyes of his that's hypnotizing enough to lure just about anyone.

He catches me off guard with a hiccup then he's giggling like a child.

I feel myself smile. "You're cute," I tell him.

"Mmmm and you're," his eyes roam my body, head to toe. "Delicious," he deems. Damn, he's sexy. Then I'm stunned again when he grabs my shirt, tugging me to him. My lips are pressed against his before I realize what's happening.

We're both sloppy with our kiss from all the alcohol we've consumed. He's gripping onto my shirt. My left hand is on his face, while the other is on his back, pressing his body to mine.

We reach for the hem of the other's shirts. We drunkenly laugh when we both go to pull our shirts up. I step back to take my shirt off, mindlessly throwing it across the room. Meanwhile, he's taking his own shirt off.

Our mouths are back in contact. We're kicking off our shoes while feverishly kissing. His tongue is more intoxicating than the alcohol.

He's unbuttoning his jeans and stumbles while taking them off, but I catch him before he could fall. His hands are on my belt now, unlatching it while stepping forward until he's pushing me down on the bed and yanking my pants off.

Jesus, who knew this twink was a power bottom.

I love being the one in control and I would take it, but, fuck, it's so hot when he's on top, kissing down my chest and sucking on my skin right above my hips.

My hand's in his hair and my body's hot and bursting with the need for his mouth around my cock. "Fuck, Ryan," I groan, tugging his hair.

He lifts his head, an eyebrow raised as he looks at me, "who's Ryan?"

Oh, fuck, that's not his name. I laugh, "I don't know." And he- whoever he is- laughs too because we're drunk, and strangers to each other, and shit, I hope he attends my new school.

He goes back to giving me hickies, palming me through my boxer-briefs as he does. I want him to put me in his mouth so badly. He's pulling my underwear down and I'm craving him.

And he's kissing my thighs, and his hands are skimming down my waist, and he's...

Laying in my lap? Did he just pass out? What the fuck?

I groan, frustrated, falling back onto the mattress. Of course. Ugh. I sit back up. "Hey," I say, shaking him. Was he seriously that plastered?

"Mm," is the only noise he makes.

I sigh and move his body, so his head is resting on the pillow.

Standing up, I pull the covers over him then reach for my clothes, so I could leave. He'll be fine here alone, right?

What if something bad happens to him? Or someone comes in and... I groan again. God dammit!

I climb to the other side of the bed. I study the boy while he sleeps. He is pretty. Beautiful, actually. I sigh and turn over to not face him.

And I drift to sleep picturing those green eyes.