The Peak (Or how a friend nearly got me off in a crowded room…again) [F/M]

   "I am so sorry." I squeaked. I stood in Kit's kitchen, staring at the busted vase on the floor. Kit held an exploded can of biscuits in one hand, and gripped the counter with the other.
   He sighed and put down the can, turning to the storage closet. "It's ok."
   "I am so, so sorry," I hunkered down, picking up the biggest pieces of the ex-vase gingerly.
   Kit turned back with a tiny broom and dustpan, crouching with me. "Stop, you're going to cut yourself."
   "I'm sorry…"
   "It's ok." Kit swept up the remaining vase pieces. "My mom found it at a garage sale or something, it's no big deal."
   Way to go, Lily, break the present from his mom. "I'm sorry." I said feebly.
   "Dude, it's ok." He stood and moved to the trash can, discarding the ceramic shards.
   "Not really." I said under my breath, placing the big pieces on the table, trying to assemble them back into a vase-like shape.
   "Seriously, stop."
   "But I'm sorry," I stammered.
   "I know."
   "I broke the thing because biscuits." I made a popping sound with my mouth in a pathetic attempt to mimic the noise the biscuit can made when it exploded and startled me.
   "…right." Kit turned back to the biscuit can, peeling it open.
   I looked at the vase pieces, trying to decide what adhesive would best hold the ceramic together.
   "Are you going to be like this the rest of the night?" I looked up to see Kit raising an eyebrow at me.
   I looked at the vase again and swallowed hard. "…I'm sorry."
   He sighed once more, setting down the de-canned biscuit dough and turning to the fridge. He pulled out a can of Dr. Pepper and set it on the counter. "I'll forgive you if you do me two favors," he said, opening a cabinet and removing a glass. "One, we never speak of the vase again," he reached up and grabbed a bottle off of the fridge. "And two," he popped the top of the bottle and poured some into the glass, followed by the Dr. Pepper. "You get some alcohol in your system." He held out the glass to me, and I took it gingerly with both hands. "Deal?" I nodded. He looked at the glass. I took a sip and he patted me on the head. "Now, break apart those biscuits."

Ramping Up (or how two Dominants started an ongoing power struggle) [f/m]

   "That's my spot." I stood just beyond the doorway of Lexy and Geoff's gameroom; it was nearly ten PM and prior family plans had kept me away longer than I'd expected, but at last I'd made it to the weekly hangout. A Jackie Chan film was just ending on the big screen as I stared at the now occupied corner seat.
   Kit glanced behind him, checking the sectional thoroughly before shrugging at me. "I don't see your name on it."
   "You can sit by me!" Sam tipsily patted the seat next to her, scooting over slightly to make room.
   Will appeared in the doorway behind me, goosing me as he brushed past on his way to the seat next to Sam.
   "But that's where I always sit," I told Sam, stepping further into the room. "Everyone has their spot and that one is mine."
   "Ok then, Sheldon," Kit scoffed. "But I still don't see anything anywhere that say it's yours."He took a swig of whatever was in his glass and set it on Geoff's desk behind the sectional.
   "Are ya'll twelve?" Lexy teased from the opposite side of the sectional. "Just take his usual seat, Lil."
   "This is a matter of principle," I said, moving closer in an attempt to loom over Kit. "He took my spot, and I want it back."
   Kit crossed his arms and donned an annoying smirk. "I'm not moving."
   I glanced at Will. He raised an eyebrow, eyes gleaming.
   I smiled politely at Kit. "Ok." I quickly hopped up on the cushion between Sam and Kit, sat on the back of the sectional, and slid into the space behind Kit. "…then I'll just have to take it by force."
   "What are you doing?" Kit let out an exasperated sigh.
   "Claiming what's rightfully mine." I wriggled down into the cushion, pulling my feet to my chest and pushing them against his back.
   "This isn't Game of Thrones." Kit pushed backwards, squishing me further into the corner.
   "When you play the game of cushions, you win or you fall!" I said, extending my feet and shoving Kit to the edge of the couch. He stopped just before sliding off onto the floor, slowly twisting his head around to look at me.
   "Oh, really?" He said, pushing off from the ground and smashing me against the back of the couch.
   "Yes, really," I replied, bracing my hands against his back. He turned suddenly and grabbed my wrists, leaning his full weight into yanking me off of the couch. As we both hit the floor, he twisted around so that I was on bottom, giving him time to scramble back to the coveted seat.
   "Guess I win then, huh?"

How it Began, Part 1 (or how a drunk friend nearly got me off in a crowded room) [m/f]

     Stop him, my conscience told me. I glanced down at the head resting on a pillow in my lap. His arm was snaked under the pillow, hand slowly creeping up my inner thigh. I glanced around the room. Lexy was curled up in the corner spot of the sectional at his feet, cuddling Geoff. Next to them sat Will and Sam, my boyfriend and his roommate, both drowsily watching the movie on Kit's TV. Sam lay with her head resting on Will's leg, and as he absentmindedly pet her hair I felt a twinge of jealousy. Intellectually, I knew that Sam was as hardcore a kitty-loving lesbian as there ever was (and that she and Will were all but siblings), but at that moment my wiring still egged me to take her down. We'll laugh about this moment later, I thought to myself.

The First Time (or why you don’t leave two sexually frustrated and emotional virgins alone in an empty house) [M/F]

     The rain tapped lightly on the roof, filling the silence that enveloped my bedroom. We sat at either end of my bed in the corner of my room, soaking in the aftermath of the chilled phone call from the boy’s mother. His brows knitted as he looked to the floor.
     "I…I don't know what…" He trailed off, covering his face with his hands.
     "Hey," I started, trying to find the words. "It's ok-"
     "No, it's not!" He exploded, turning to me with pain in his eyes. I sat back, startled. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose with eyes squeezed shut. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I can't get any of this right. No matter what I do, someone is always going to be pissed at me!"
     “Nothing is wrong with you,” I said, shifting on the burgundy comforter, “Not a single thing.”
     “I can’t appease them without hurting you, and I can’t make you happy without starting a war with them,” he muttered. “I can’t win.”
     I didn't know what to do- I'd never seen someone in a state like that. Looking at him then, watching him wrestle his demons with his eyes squeezed shut and head against the wall, I knew I couldn't fully comprehend what he was going through. I hated his parents for making such a big deal over something so small, but I knew that his entire future depended on them so he couldn't afford to argue. I didn’t know what to do.