💋 -- toby
Send 💋 for your muse to randomly kiss mine || status: CLOSED
Charlie’s breath stuttered to a stop in his throat at the soft press of Toby’s lips against his. He stood there frozen in complete shock for a single heartbeat before pressing closer, returning the kiss. Almost of its own volition, his hand raised to gently cup Toby’s jaw as his tongue teased past the other boy’s lips. All at once the realisation of what he was doing crashed over him like a tidal wave and he jerked back abruptly as though he’d been burned. “Don’t,” he murmured, his defenses down. All his usual cockiness was gone and he felt the first beginnings of panic start to squeeze at his chest. The kiss was wrong. He knew Toby was gay and he accepted it, but he wasn’t, he shouldn’t–want this, want him. He’d never wanted to admit that he looked at boys like that in idle moments and wondered what their lips would feel like pressed to his or how their hands would touch his skin.
What would his family think? How could he ever face any of them if they knew?
“You’re drunk. We’re both drunk. These things happen sometimes when people have had too much to drink.” He can hear the undercurrent of anxiety in his voice, the panic clawing away at his chest. “I’m not like you, alright? I’m straight.”
