Losing It

His back hit the wall with a heavy thud, and all of his breath left him in a whoosh. He couldn't help the small bit of fear that sparked up in him, causing his heart to race, pulse pounding in his ears. Riley's hands felt like stones on his shoulders, digging in as he kept Peter pinned against the wall, and his eyes seemed to gleam with something Peter couldn't quite explain.

Chest rising and falling sharply, Peter swallowed. He took a deep breath through his nose, attempting to put up a front, and Riley stared hard at him.

"What are you doing?" Peter asked, his voice cracking and betraying him.

"I don't know," Riley admitted.

This is the last time I ever invite him over, Peter thought to himself, tearing his gaze away from Riley's face so that he might look for a possible escape. Ever since the thing with Sav, Riley hadn't exactly been on good terms with a lot of people; you could say Peter felt sorry for the guy. Wanted him to feel like he still had friends.

He didn't know he'd end up being thrown against his own wall.

"Dude..." Peter began, but he trailed off. He thought about trying to push Riley away from him, but Riley was a lot stronger than he, so instead his arms remained limp at his sides. "This isn't cool. Let me go."

The pressure from Riley's hands relaxed just slightly, but Riley didn't move away. A long moment passed before he did anything in fact, and suddenly, he started to lean in. The next thing Peter knew, Riley's lips were on his.

It happened again.

The first time Riley tried to kiss him -- Peter didn't know why he always said 'tried to' because there had definitely been lip contact that first time-- something had happened to Peter, something inside of him. He'd felt like that when Darcy had first kissed him, something like butterflies, maybe?

But it didn't make sense. It'd happened with Darcy because he really liked Darcy, and he was waiting for it to happen with Mia, because he thought he really liked her too. But he wasn't...gay. He couldn't understand why his body reacted the way it did for Riley.

And as Riley's firm lips pressed against his, something like fire seemed to ignite inside of Peter. Heat raced through his veins, and it felt like his heart momentarily stopped beating.

But this was wrong; this was Riley.

"Stop." Peter's voice came out weak and pathetic-sounding, and he turned his head sharply away from Riley. "I already told you, man, I don't -- I'm not... Just stop, okay?"

"No," Riley said, shaking his head slightly. His lips now ghosted over Peter's jaw bone, a motion that made Peter feel even warmer under the collar. "I can't."

"Riley --"

Peter's words were cut off as Riley's mouth found his once more, but this time, Riley wasn't taking no for an answer. One of his hands moved from Peter's shoulders, and he grabbed Peter's chin in a strong grip, holding his face there so that Peter couldn't turn his head away.

And then he was trying to push his tongue into Peter's mouth.

Maybe Peter was struck with insanity, maybe for just a little while he completely lost his mind.

Because he parted his lips, and let Riley's tongue slip past them.

It was different from anything he'd ever experienced in his life, the feeling of Riley's warm tongue moving against his own, exploring the inside of Peter's mouth as if it were his right. Riley was dominant and demanding, so unlike any of the girls Peter'd ever kissed. Riley's mouth moved against his almost desperately, and he held onto Peter like he was some sort of lifeline. Like he was afraid that if he let go, he might very well die.

The hand that he'd kept on Peter's shoulder suddenly moved, sliding down Peter's chest. Peter's breath caught in his throat as Riley's hand seemed to burn through the thin material of his tee shirt, making him break out into a sweat. Riley's hand then settled on one of Peter's hips, squeezing slightly, and warmth started to spread in Peter's gut.

Warmth that was slowly making its way down to that special spot between his legs.

"No," he said against Riley's mouth, trying to pull his face away from the other boy's.

All at once, something hard was pressing against Peter's thigh, and Peter wasn't sure if it frightened him or turned him on. He didn't want to believe this was really happening, much less that he was actually, maybe sort of enjoying it.

And he hated himself when he realized that Riley was no longer holding his face still -- he'd been kissing Riley on his own free will. Riley's hand had found its way to the side of Peter's neck, cradling it slightly.

"Riley," he tried to say, only it came out sounding more like a sexual purr than a plea.

"Just go with it," Riley said, before his lips went to Peter's throat. His teeth grazed the skin there, giving Peter a strange kind of tingly sensation.

A noise welled in Peter's throat as Riley started to move against him, rolling his hips forward so that he could grind himself against Peter's thigh. Riley found a spot at the base of Peter's throat to nibble and suck at, and his breathing was becoming sharper and sharper with each rock of his body.

And Peter hated himself even more when he noticed that his own erection was straining against his jeans.

It felt like someone had taken over Peter's body, like someone else was controlling him. One of his hands went up to Riley's head, his fingers running through the short hair at the nape of his neck, and a low groan rose from Riley's chest. His movements became rougher, his grip tightening on Peter's neck and waist.

Short noises started to leave Riley now, noises that could almost be considered whimpers, high-pitched little moans that had a hint of urgency to them. Peter opened his mouth to tell Riley to stop, to tell him once more that he wasn't down for this, even though everything in him seemed to be disagreeing.

And suddenly, Riley's whole body tensed up.

A groan was abruptly cut off as Riley sucked in his breath sharply. He kept Peter pinned, holding him in place as he came, and Peter didn't really know what to do. He stood there lamely, one of his hands on the back of Riley's neck, and the other still at his side.

Panting, Riley kept his face buried between Peter's neck and shoulder for what felt like hours, days even.

When Riley finally stepped away from Peter, he didn't look at him. The room seemed a lot colder than it had been minutes before, and tension seemed to appear out of nowhere, strong enough it was almost tangible.

"Riley." Peter didn't really know what to say -- he'd just wanted to fill the silence.

Without saying anything, Riley turned and stormed towards the front door. A part of Peter, the crazy and illogical side that had allowed Riley to do what he'd done, wanted to run after Riley. But all he could do was stand there, flattened against the wall, and feeling like he'd stepped into an episode of the Twilight Zone.

The door slammed as Riley left, and Peter flinched.

He looked down at himself, at the bulge in his jeans, and heat crept to his cheeks as he blushed. He covered his face with both hands, digging his palms into his eyes so hard that he saw spots, and he sighed heavily.

Could his life ever be drama-free?