One•Shots

brecken + porter

b r e c k e n *

My heart nearly jumps from my chest when I check my email for meeting requests. I'm a full-time college student, but I'm also a part-time photographer. I like to meet with my clients before we do the shoot, just so I know what they want. It's easier for me than trading details over emails or text messages. There it is:
Porter Adams-- meeting request:
Hey Brecken,
This is Porter Adams. I'd like to schedule a meeting so we can discuss setting up a photoshoot. I am free any time, any day this week!
TIA!
-Porter Adams
I click on the reply button and type out my reply.
Hey Porter! Yes, of course! We can meet at my apartment if you'd like. Today at 1:00 PM?
-Brecken James
I press send and let out a gasp. Porter and I went to school together--up until tenth grade, anyway. He moved schools, but I was never exactly sure why. We were best friends up until our ninth-grade year; all of a sudden, he just stopped talking to me and hanging out with me. I go to Facebook and type in his name. His profile appears and I click on it. My heart leaps in my chest; he's cute now, I mean he was cute back then, but now--holy crap! A quick profile, bio, and information search find that he's single, studying real estate in college, and he has three cats and a dog.

I put more effort into my appearance than I'd like to admit. Mere minutes after I emailed Porter back, he emailed back saying that today at one was good, and I sent him directions. It's now 12:59 PM and I'm freaking out a little bit. Exactly at 1:00 PM, a knock sounds on the door. I open the door and find myself looking at Porter Adams.
"Hey," I say, feeling nervous.
He gives me a smile. "Hey," he says.
I lead him into my office, pulling a chair up for him to sit in.
Before I have the chance to ask him what kind of photos he wants to be done, he speaks up first.
"I'm going to be honest here," he starts, looking me in the eye. "I don't really want photos done, I just wanted to meet with you because I wanted to see you."
I give him a curious look and half-nod. "Why?" I ask. "You're the one who stopped hanging out with me."
"I know...and I'm sorry, and I know it's probably too late for that, but..."
He stops talking and stands up, walking around the desk and leaning over me. I look up at him as he drops down onto my lap.
"What are you doing?" I ask him, feeling slightly uncomfortable.
He puts both of his hands on my shoulders and bends down, pressing his lips against mine. The kiss is short and he pulls back mere seconds later, looking at me.
"Look, I'm sorry--" he begins, but I stop him.
"You're three years late to this apology," I snap, pushing him off of me gently. I don't exactly know where I'm going, my house is small and he can follow me, but I fling the office door open and stomp like five (if that) steps down the hall to my bedroom, leaving the door open.
Just as I suspected, he follows me.
"I get that, and I shouldn't have done what I did, and to be honest, I don't really know why I did-" he starts.
"Then why are you here, Porter?" I ask in a snappy tone. "Why? Pity? We're in college now, and I know I don't have time for childish stuff like this."
He steps toward me, grabbing my arms. "Let me make it up to you, then," he whispers.
"Make up for what? Four years of silence? Make up for throwing away almost ten years of friendship?" I snap.
He grabs my face, quite roughly, and kisses me, shoving me back onto my bed and climbing on top of me. He sits on top of me as he kisses me. His lips move from mine to my neck, as he pulls the collar of my shirt down so he has better access to it. I fight the moan that wants so badly to escape.
"You like this," he whispers in my ear. "We both know that,"
I whimper, avoiding his gaze. He grabs my face, forcing me to look at him.

I lean over the back of the couch and try to look Porter in the face.
"Whatcha doing?" I ask him.
"Nothing," he says, turning to look at me.
Earlier, we talked--after we kissed--and worked things out. We're going to try again.
"I should probably head home," Porter says. "I've got a morning class tomorrow,"
"Aww," I say. "Why don't you come over for dinner tomorrow? Around 5?"
"I'd like that," he says, a smile creeping across his face as he gets off the couch and heads toward the door. Before he opens the door, I grab his wrist and pull him into me, kissing him. I feel his eyebrows raise.
"I thought we were just--" Porter begins, but I kiss him again.
"Forget it," I say breathlessly. "I can't just be 'friends',"
I kiss him again, roughly, stumbling back and nearly falling over the back of the couch.

The next evening, five o'clock rolls around quickly. At 5:03, there's a knock on my front door. I open it, and Porter walks in, kissing me softly and quickly.
"How was class today?" I ask him as we sit down at the table to eat dinner (Spaghetti with bread and salad).
"It was okay," he says. "Kinda boring... I kept thinkin' 'bout you,"
I feel a blush creep into my cheeks. "Did you?"
"I did. Look, I'm really happy we're doing...whatever this is."
"Me too... hey since it's Friday, would you wanna stay over tonight? Watch a movie?" I ask him.
"That sounds fun, but I'll have to run home real quick."

After we eat dinner, Porter runs back home and is back within the hour with a duffel bag with clothes. He also stopped by Walmart and got snacks. We decide to watch 'Spiderman: Far From Home'.

That night, Porter and I cuddle up together in my bed, HGTV on in the background. I kiss Porter softly before I close my eyes and drift off to sleep.

3/17/20
GREEN!!!!

**we're just going to ignore the fact that I forgot to put windows in the rest of the house.