dada da da
dada da da
baby i'm howlin' for you
-the black keys, howlin' for you

/

There are a few benefits to sharing a house with a very, very attractive guy. Callie had to admit that much the second she bumped into a very wet, very shirtless Brandon Foster. Who, she swore to herself she wasn't noticing how he only had a towel wrapped around his waist. Oh, sweet baby Jesus.

Brandon was, for the most part, oblivious – like always. He just gave her a cute, sort of floppy smile and it was as if his half-nakedness wasn't even a big deal. Which, Callie supposed, maybe for Mariana or someone more like his sister, it wouldn't have been. In fact, she was sure Mariana would have immediately made an over-dramatic show about how he really needed to put a shirt on.

Callie agreed, but not because she was disgusted, but because he had a happy trail and she was sick with herself for noticing.

"Sorry," he said, fingers resting gently on the towel. Fingers which were holding it up.

She shrugged, bit her lip. Said nothing for a moment, before she shrugged again. "It's cool," she muttered nonchalantly, despite the fact that she was hardly able to breathe. The tension felt so thick, you could easily cut it with a knife. Maybe that was just her, though. Maybe it was all in her head. Brandon seemed so obvious to Callie's pesky human emotions that she finally couldn't take it anymore.

"Well, I'm gonna–" she gestured to the bathroom behind him, before moving past him, trying not to shiver when her shoulder brushed against his as she passed him. Breathe, she reminded herself as she closed the heavy wood door and leaned back against it. Stop acting like such a fan girl. She moved to turn the water of the shower on. Steam immediately filled the room up.

Callie cleared her thoughts of Brandon.

She stared into the mirror as she let her hair down and sat her tie onto the counter, before going to grasp the hem of her shirt on either side, lifting it over her head and dropping it to the floor just as the door flew open.

Her head whipped around so fast she was surprised she didn't give herself whiplash, ready to yell at Jesus or Mariana or even Jude for being impatient about the bathroom, but instead she was met with Brandon.

Brandon, who, up until now, she'd thought she had completely figured out. Brandon, who, she liked to think of as innocent, despite knowing – to her eternal disgust – about his state of nonvirginity(? Was that even a word?). It was the characteristics – he was kind, and nice, and a complete gentleman.

So, why was he in here?

Callie didn't get the chance to ask.

He was already there in front of her, fingers caressing her lips as he tilted her face upwards. She didn't even have time to be embarrassed about the fact that she had no shirt on, that he was seeing her in only her bra and a pair of jeans. Her eyes searched his, looking for a reason. Why was he in here? Why was he doing this? Why did he hate Wyatt so much? Why did he break up with Talya (because she was a bitch, her mind supplied)?

Why was he looking at her like that?

His lips replaced his fingers, his kiss not at all gentle like she'd imagined, but instead hard, rough – hot. His fingers moved down slowly, over her cheeks, down to cup her neck on either side, his skin leaving a trail of fire and goosebumps on hers. She shivered, stepping closer to him as she kissed him back with equal roughness.

Maybe she had been wrong, earlier. Maybe the tension wasn't one-sided. Maybe he had snapped. She was a bit surprised, actually, how she hadn't done so first.

Callie's fingers found his hair. The dark, silly strands moved against her fingers easily, tickling the skin of her palms as she tugged gently, using his hair to pull his face closer to hers. The skin of her stomach brushed against his several times, and she found herself acutely aware of the fact that he had not put any clothes on.

He was still only in that towel, and she tried not to think of what lay (or should she say hung) underneath it. And it worked, she didn't – until he was pressing himself closer to her, his lips moving from hers to her neck, his fingers finding her hips, gripping them much like he had when they danced together at Mariana's Quinceañera when they had to dance together. She thought about a different dance, one she wondered if they were about to do.

Okay, it was a bit silly to reference sex as a dance. Yet, that's kind of what it was, wasn't it?

The dance teacher had said it was all about connection. Well, so was sex.

If you wanted it to be good, you had to have a connection.

She bit her lip as she felt Brandon's slightly damp lips move over the skin of her collar, knowing that she'd have to invest in some foundation or borrow a scarf from Mariana later. Were they going to have sex? She wondered. And then, she wondered, did she want to have sex with him?

His fingers gripped her hips harder, before pulling them flush against his own. An all too thin towel and the fabric of her jeans and panties were the only thing separating them.

"Is this okay?" Brandon's voice was not the gentle, yet somehow also strong voice she knew. His voice was husky, rough around the edges.

A rush of wetness soaked her underwear

"Yes."

Her voice was not at all nearly as sexy as his had been – all breathy, gasping for air whilst trying to speak. It made her sick with herself. She wasn't this girl: The one that stumbled over her words around an attractive guy. The one that became suddenly hyper-aware and self-conscious.

Callie had ever been that girl. Ever.

His fingers moved over her stomach. She shivered and pressed herself closer to him, trying not to notice the hardness she felt pressed against her.

She'd never been that girl until now.

His lips moved to her shoulder where he bit down teasingly, before planting a soft kiss on the abused skin there. One hand stayed on her stomach, caressing her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. The other hand crept slowly up her spine. She knew where this hand was heading and did nothing to stop it. No, she wanted this.

"May I?"

He was a gentleman, she decided. Even when his voice was liquid sex and his hard-on was pressed into her lower stomach and his fingers were on the clasp of her bra, asking her if he could take it off.

He was Brandon freaking Foster. Of course he was perfect.

She pulled back a little, looked up at him. Her lips felt swollen, her eyes probably hazy; glazed. Callie stared at him. May he?

If she let him take her bra off, then there would be no turning back. She wouldn't be able to say no to him after this. They would have sex, unless he decided he didn't want to. Was that what she wanted? She had to ask herself this, had to be sure.

"Take it off." She said, finally, her voice steady as she stared at him.

Brandon did not break her gaze, instead he met it as he unclasped her bra in one fluid, obviously well practiced motion. She forced herself not to think about who else he'd taken a bra off of.

That was in the past, and the past didn't nearly matter as much as the present did. And in the present, Brandon's eyes were raking over her naked chest as her bra straps fell loosely away from her shoulders and she lifted a shaky, nervous hand to push it off of her the rest of the way.

His eyes moved from hers to follow her every movement, his eyes taking in her pink nipples as they hardened from both the exposure to the cool air and Brandon's eyes. It was thrilling, in a way, to be standing topless in front of Brandon. To watch the way his eyes moved over her chest, as if it were a precious piece of art.

Brandon placed a hand on her hip. Slowly, he moved it up, trailing it over her skin as it curved inwards and then back outwards, until he reached the swell of her breast. His fingers moved first to trace the underside of it, before taking it into his hand, cupping it; squeezing it lightly, Her head lulled back, her lip ending up between her teeth absentmindedly as she bit down on her bottom lip.

At this point, her vagina ached, pulsed, wishing to be filled by him.

Her eyes closed as she felt him flick his thumb over her nipple, before he ducked his head down and took it between his teeth, tugging gently. His tongue circled her nipple, while his other hand found her other breast. As he massaged her, she let out low moans. Her fingernails dug into the back of his neck, leaving crescent shaped marks on his skin.

He touched and kissed her breasts for a few long minutes, before kissing up between the valley of her breasts, over her chest and collar before his lips finally found hers. She anticipated the kiss for a long moment and felt much like a man in need of water. His kiss quenched her thirst.

...Well, somewhat.

There was still a deep ache inside of her jeans that he hadn't quite filled yet.

The steam coming from the shower and his touch made her skin grow hot and emit a thin layer of sweat, and she decided they should take this to the shower. She took his hand from her hip and put it over her jean's button. "Take them off," she managed, eyes on the shower behind them, before glancing back at him. He followed her gaze and she could tell by the look in his eye he understood.

Brandon did as she asked, unbuttoning and then unzipping her jeans slowly. She noticed his fingers shook slightly and smiled, moving her hands to rest over his. Instead of stopping him, she helped him pull them down over her thighs. They landed in a pool around her ankles and she stepped out of them and kicked them away, left only in her panties.

Panties which, his fingers were already hooking through the hem and tugging down, exposing her to his eyes. Callie was not a virgin, no sir. But standing there completely naked with Brandon's eyes taking her in, raking over her entire body, making the tiny hairs on her arms raise, she certainly felt like one.

Blinking, she bit her lip.

Callie was surprised to hear Brandon groan. "You really need to stop doing that," he whined, his eyes on her lips – seriously, she was completely naked right now and he was looking at her lips? But, she thought, he was Brandon. Of course he was looking at her lips.

"Why?" She grinned innocently. He'd given her some power and like hell she was going to reject it. She moved forward, slowly, fingertips reaching out for the towel somehow still wrapped around his waist. She was actually quite shocked it hadn't fallen off when they were kissing before. She glanced up at him, licking her lips slowly as one hand made its way slowly up his stomach.

He didn't have a twelve pack, but she wasn't complaining. His six pack was plenty enough for her. Her fingers traced his stomach slowly, tauntingly. It was his turn to turn bright red and shudder underneath her fingers.

She took her bottom lip between her teeth again, staring into his eyes as she did so. "Does it... turn you on?" She asked, slowly running her fingers back down to the towel. She ran her hand over the front of it without taking it off just yet, smirking as she felt him. He was hard. She had done this. The thought in itself was a turn on. Not only that, though, it was a satisfaction.

Then, she took the towel and tugged it downwards.

"What do you say we move this to the shower?" She leaned over, her breasts grazing against his naked chest, her lips ghosting over the shell of his ear, as she let the towel hit the ground.

Brandon wasted no time in lifted her up onto his hip – she tried (and failed) not to gasp too loudly as he brushed against her core in the shuffle – and moving them both into the shower. The water rained down on them, and his hair which was already damp from the first shower he had taken quickly grew soaked once again.

His hair was the last thing on his mind. He pushed her against the shower wall, pressed himself hard against her entrance without actually moving inside of her, and kissed her long and hard. Their tongues instantly pushed against each others and Callie moaned into his mouth, moving her hips desperately against his in urgent need of friction.

The heat down there, once bearable, had built up to the point where she was desperate for release. "Brandon," she managed into his ear as she torn her lips from his. "Condoms. On you. Inside of me. Now." Her words were jumbled and at certain parts more moans than anything else, but Brandon got the picture.

He carefully put her back on her feet and she fought the urge to begin touching herself as the need for release grew stronger by the second. She watched him through hazy eyes, with water dripping into her face, as he climbed out of the shower and grabbed a towel, rushing out of the bathroom to go straight to his room in search of the condoms Callie knew Stef had bought, thinking he was going to use them with Talya, not Callie.

The thought made her grin, just a little.

And then she began internally panicking. Before, Brandon's presence was far too distracting to think about anything but his lips on hers, but now that he had stepped away, she began listing off a series of worries in her head.

One – The Fosters. What would they say? She couldn't even think about that. She had to move on, knowing well enough to know they would not at all approve. There were rules against this kind of thing, for godsake.

Two – Sex with her foster brother? Really. Just, really? Would this end well, for either of them? Did it mean anything? There were many subquestions which came along with this one.

Three – Talya.

Oh, wait. Except, Callie couldn't care less about Talya. Plus, Brandon had broken up with her. And anyway, she was far too turned on right them to turn Brandon away. No, forget the reasons, forget the questions, forget the rules.

This was happening and that was settled.

Brandon came in shortly thereafter, and she hear him rip the foil and a towel drop and watched him as he simultaneously stepped into the shower and rolled the latex onto himself. "Ready?" He asked, a bit awkwardly. There was a smile on his face, though.

She stepped forward and smiled too. Her fingers rested against his shoulders and she used them as leverage to push herself up onto her tiptoes so she could move in and sweep a kiss across his lips. "Yes," she murmured.

Brandon's fingers found her hips and he lifted her up easily, and brought her back down onto him not super fast, but not slowly either, just as easily. She gasped his name and he hers. His lips caught hers in his again, and they kissed as he allowed her a moment to get used to him being inside of her.

The feeling was unlike any other. Being close to Brandon like this, it was amazing. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and she pulled her lips from his and moved them to rest on his bare shoulder as she slowly began moving.

He got the hint and met her pace, thrusting in and out of her slowly, but surely. They built up a steady pace together, hips meeting hips not too quickly, but not too slowly either. His nails dug into her hips where his fingers rested, absentmindedly pushing her down and pulling her up in time with their thrusts.

"Brandon," she gasped again and slowly the thrusts became much quicker. "Brandon. Faster."

"Callie," he groaned, nestling his face into the crook of her neck as he obeyed her wishes and moved faster, pumping in and out of her. The feeling he got from fucking her was as close to heaven as he was probably ever going to get, really. "You're amazing," he breathed onto her skin as he grew closer to his orgasm.

She smiled and pressed a kiss to his shoulder without stopping.

They continued on in silence, take a few tiny gasps here and there, before, finally, Callie gasped his name again. "I'm close," she said, and he quickened his pace. It took all he had not to come undone right then. Being with Callie like this was an immense turn on and it was really hard for him not to cum, but he held on. He refused to come before she did. No way would he let that happen. No way.

"Brandon." She said again. "Brandon. Wake up."

What?

Suddenly, Callie's face disappeared and everything went dark for a moment, before he blinked and glanced around. "Wha-" He started, frowning as he realized he was not in the shower with Callie but instead on the couch in the living room, a throw blanket covering him and his... ahem... little problem.

That had been a dream?

Fuuuuuck.

Mariana smirked at him, as if she knew what he was dreaming about. "Finally." She said simply, before turning to walk away.

"Wait, Mariana – why did you wake me up?"

Mariana smirked. "Because you were saying Callie's name quiet loudly and it was really starting to disturb me." Her smirk grew. She turned and bounced away before Brandon could react properly past a blush.

Oops.

/

notes: I just. I am sorry for this. Really.