What the fuck did popular people see in parties? Beforehand, Tanner had never been to one (unless Fred Johnson's second grade Spiderman themed party counted). And no, the first party (and the subsequent vomiting incident) did not count either). He had seen a few on movies (and thought that they were exaggerating), and heard a few rumors that had gone around the school.
Either way, he was sober, sweaty from dancing, and had his back pressed roughly against the wall.
No one else seemed to notice, too busy drinking, dancing, or having their own personal time. There was no time to pay attention to the guys everyone already knew were queer (Topher may not have said it yet, but Tanner knew that a few others suspected that he was bi). He also had a hunch that a breakup would be happening between some of the school's two proudest Mormons in the near future.
If any of the girls cared, they didn't mention it. In fact, Tanner hadn't seen them in a while.
Topher could do things fast. One second their lips were on each others and the next he was trying to get tongue.
God damn, he thought mentally, glad that the other man could not hear him and remind him to not use his deity's name in that manner. This guy is fast.
The throbbing music, some pop song that he couldn't recognize, rung through his ears.
Topher released the kiss. "Damn, that was good."
"Yeah," Tanner responded, looking down to the floor. "The thing is..."
Tanner looked away from him. "I don't think that we should be doing this; it's something that we'll probably regret."
"And how would you possibly know that?"
His cell phone was unusually still in his pocket, never vibrating.
Were his old friend's texting each other at that moment, completely happy without him?
This time, Tanner was the one to initiate the kiss. He had made a lot of mistakes before, and was still making them (at that very moment he was probably being fought over for who got him as their g.b.f.), so he might as well get something out of it.