A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

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Chapter 30: Aftermath

"Holy cheezits is that better," I grumbled as I flopped on the foot of the bed, just carefully enough not to send pizza flying from the boxes in the middle. "If I never have to wear another ankle-length dress, it'll still be too soon." Especially one I had to be sewn into, and seam-ripped out of.

"What about your dress for tomorrow?" Brian asked, leaning back on his elbows and plucking a slice of pineapple-encrusted pizza from the box.

I groaned. "That's not a dress. That's . . . ."

"What?"

"I don't know," I finally conceded, thinking about the velvety red monstrosity. "But calling it a dress gives it too much credit."

It wasn't a lie. The damn thing had a neckline I was pretty sure would make Cassandra Peterson blush, and I still had no idea what shoes I was supposed to wear with it. Surprisingly, I found myself hoping for another pair of ballet slippers like I'd worn all day, though I had the sneaking and terrifying suspicion that heels were going to be involved.

I hated heels. They always made my instep itch.

I let out a heavy sigh and closed my eyes, just for a moment, thanking the heavens Aunt Cici had agreed to be in the common room at eleven to help me get ready.

"Don't fall asleep."

"Yeah, I know, pizza," I grumbled but pulled myself up again.

"And a Talk."

"A talk?"

"A Talk," Brian repeated, so I could hear the capitalization.

Great.

"Cute, by the way."

"Hmm? Oh, this old thing?" I rolled my eyes and grabbed a slice of pineapple pizza before it all disappeared. 'This old thing' was one of Maria's nightshirts, a baseball tee style one with a picture of one of the classic My Little Ponies on the front. "Maria objected to the boxers I was gonna change into. I think she's been planning to stick me in this for weeks: she already had it in the common room."

"Probably," Brian half-mumbled around a mouthful of food. "Still cute though."

"I guess," I admitted, while also more than a little annoyed that I was just as worried about getting pizza drippings on the nightshirt as I had been about the dress itself. "I look like a tweenage girl in it, though."

"Not with that, I'd think," Brian countered, patting my baby bump. "Well, hope."

"Fair."

Brian turned on the TV in the room, and we watched some silly cartoons for a bit while we ate.

It was... not uncomfortable.

Tense? Maybe.

Brian was right: we needed to talk. And I knew that no matter how things shook out, our relationship wasn't going to be the same after.

Who was I kidding? Our relationship had already changed: it had just taken us this long to realize it.

I looked over at Brian, eating his pizza and carefully Not Looking Back at me.

The more I thought about it, the more I wondered if maybe I was the only one who had been in the dark.

Not a comforting thought.

We sat through a couple of episodes of whatever it was we were watching. It was one of those "edgy" cartoons with cutesy animation right up until a swear word came out of the cartoon animal's mouth, and they did something obscene. I'd never cared for shows like that -- I preferred the actual cute cartoon animals and silly nonsense, the kind of stuff I'd laughed at as a kid. Still, it was a half-decent distraction while we ate our pizza and thought.

After two slices and half a bottle of soda, I surprised myself as much as Brian when I reached out and turned the TV off.

Maybe if we got The Talk out of the way, I could eat more pizza after, but somehow I doubted that.

I looked into Brian's eyes. He smiled back, then glanced away long enough to close the lids on the pizza boxes and move them to the little table he'd slid near the bed on his side.

....

"So," I started, then immediately stopped.

"Us," Brian said, still smiling.

"...Yeah." I fiddled with the hem of my nightshirt a bit more, wishing I could remember if My Little Pony ever had any episodes about awkward talks with roommates who might be your boyfriend, and you just didn't know it, but everyone else did.

It seemed unlikely.

"Want me to start?"

"No. I mean, yeah, but...." I trailed off again, then huffed in frustration with myself. "I just... did we?"

"Did we what?"

I blushed. "Did we... kiss?" I looked away, not wanting to see Brian's reaction to my question. "On the boat?"

"During the dance?"

"Y-yeah," I said again. "I was kinda smashed, and--"

"Kinda?"

"Hey!" I whined a bit, finally looking at Brian again. Thankfully he was still smiling. "I just don't remember, and then we woke up in... in the same bed."

"You don't remember at all?" He asked, his eyes twinkling.

"No? I mean, I remember falling down, and us dancing after, but not." I stopped again, feeling more than a bit like Violet Beauregard, swollen up and ready to pop.

"Well, we danced," Brian said, sliding closer to me. "Close, and slow."

"Mm-hmm," I agreed, barely a whisper.

"I drew you in," he said, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and doing so there at the foot of the bed.

"I...." I swallowed. "I think I remember that. A bit?"

"You looked up at me, with those big eyes of yours, holding on tightly...."

I felt my breath quicken as he pulled me closer.

"Then I leaned down, and...."

"And?" I squeaked, as he looked into my eyes just like he'd described, and eased closer.

"And...."

*peck*

I tried to cross my eyes as he leaned forward and kissed me in the middle of the forehead, softly and slowly, then eased back to smile at me again, looking amused at my obvious confusion.

"That's it?!"

"That's it," he agreed, chuckling a bit and squeezing my shoulder. "Well, mostly it. You passed out when I went to do it, and kinda headbutted me in the teeth a bit," he admitted.

"So we didn't...."

"Nope. I took you up to the room and was going to lay you in your bed, but you wrapped your arms around my neck and wouldn't let go."

"But my clothes?" I said. "Who took them off me?"

"You did that about two in the morning."

I groaned. Of course, I did.

I sank against Brian's shoulder and let out something halfway between a laugh and a wail of despair. "Oh gawd, I've been worried sick for two days about what I was thinking we might have done."

Brian laughed, squeezing me again. "Hey, never let it be said I besmirched a lady's good name, even when given the opportunity."

"I'm no lady," I grumped.

"Right," he agreed. "Princess, my bad."

"I'm not... ugh." I pulled away from him, more than half reluctantly. "You know what I meant."

"I do," Brian said, a bit more seriously, moving his arm down to rest his hand on my knee.

I looked down at his hand and thought.

"Everyone else thinks we're a couple," I said, still staring at his hand.

"Yep."

"Are we?"

I looked up into his eyes once again, as the silence piled on top of me and made it hard to breathe.

Brian looked back at me; his face serious. "Leigh."

"Are we," I asked again, swallowing a heavy gulp of air.

Brian gulped, seeming to have just as much trouble with the air as I was. "I... I think." He stopped again.

"You think?"

"I think I should kiss you," he finally said, forcing the words out quickly, nervously. "Can I kiss you?" He asked, his hand now moving to my cheek, caressing it.

"I...." I reached up and placed my hand over his, still looking him in the eyes but unable to say anything more.

It must have been enough of an answer because he leaned forward once again. Only this time, his eyes never left mine as our faces grew closer, only losing contact when I closed my own... and felt his lips press into mine in a kiss without question.

A kiss without concern for boyfriend or girlfriend, man or woman, or any of the other complications we both knew would, could, come.

Our first?

It certainly felt like it.

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Notes:

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