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Tobey is sixteen when he has his first kiss.
He’s curled up on his mother’s couch with his beloved Becky Botsford wrapped in his arms, happily leaning into him as, for the fourth time, they watch a rerun of a true crime series Becky has managed to hyper-fixate on. The top of her head brushes against his nose, soft little hairs tickling his skin ever so lightly with every steady breath she takes.
It’s bliss. If he could, Tobey would spend every second of his day like this with his beautiful girlfriend.
After a while, his attention begins to stray from the screen, his eyes flickering downward to sneak glances of Becky. He’s aware she can feel the heat of his stare and the way his heart pounds in his ribcage from the proximity, but he can’t find it in himself to care. She does that to him, makes him feel like a fool in love. (Mostly because he is.)
Becky takes in a breath, the steady pattern faltering. Tobey’s arms tighten around her.
“Tobey,” she says, tilting her head to meet his gaze. The images of bloodied crime scenes and blinding police lights go unnoticed in front of them on the screen. He hums, closing his eyes as he rests his chin against the top of her head. (He has his growth-spurt in seventh grade to thank for that, giving him nearly half a foot over his adorable darling.)
“How come you’ve never kissed me?”
His eyes snap open, his lungs momentarily forgetting how on earth they’re supposed to breathe as Becky’s words register in his head. Immediately, Tobey pries himself away from her so he can look her in the eyes.
Sitting directly across from her now, Tobey furrows his eyebrows. “I– I didn’t know if you’d want to, and I didn’t want to scare you off,” he tells her. It’s half of the truth, at least.
Becky’s gaze turns sympathetic. “What makes you think I wouldn’t want to?” she asks, tilting her head in inquiry. Does she even realize how adorable she is? Tobey can’t understand how no one else seems to see it. But, then again, he’s the jealous type, so maybe it’s better off that way.
“That’s not what I said!” he says a bit too loudly for how close they are. He clears his throat as she winces. “Er, I mean, uh, I didn’t– I didn’t think that, per se. I simply wanted you to be ready.”
Tobey thinks his heart stops when Becky looks directly into his eyes and says, “Well, I’m ready.”
Tugging at the collar of his shirt, he gives an awkward chuckle. “Uh– Wonderful! That’s, ah, great to hear, my love,” he croaks, cursing the way his voice cracks.
He watches as Becky deflates in her seat, her eyes falling away as she offers a small smile. “Of course, if you’re not, that’s totally okay. I didn’t want to pressure you, or–”
“No!” Tobey cuts her off hastily, holding up his hands. Becky jolts in surprise. “That’s not it. I just… I haven’t…y’know…” He’s sure his cheeks are stained a deep red as his girlfriend’s eyes widen in recognition.
“Oh!” she says, her spirits immediately lifting again. “I mean, I haven’t either.” She pauses, studying him for a long moment. Tobey gnaws on his lip out of habit. “Do you…wanna?”
The quick, “Yes,” that escapes him in a rushed whisper is completely unplanned, but it seems to be the correct answer. And while this is all entirely new to him, uncharted territory, there’s a thrill at the prospect of it.
“Okay,” Becky whispers, taking a deep breath, as if she’s steeling herself for this. “Kiss me, then.”
Tobey stops. “Me?” he cries, shocked. “I thought you wanted to do it!”
Becky just pouts. “What happened to chivalry?”
“What happened to non-heteronormative gender roles?”
“Touche,” she replies with a smile. “I’m still not doing it.”
Letting out a sigh, Tobey resigns himself to his fate. And while he’s jittering with nerves, he can’t not kiss her, now. That would simply be rude.
So, slowly, unsurely, Tobey’s hand drifts upward to rest on Becky’s cheek. He watches her breath hitch, her eyes flickering from meeting his to drifting down towards his lips. Swallowing, Tobey inches himself closer until their breaths are mingling and he can feel her nose brush his.
It takes him a second to work up the nerve to close the distance, but once he does, he’s surging forward, capturing her lips in his own. His eyes fall shut the moment they meet, heart stuttering in his chest as he sinks into the feeling. She’s so warm, the feeling of her mouth against his addictive as she kisses him back, the slightest movement that erupts butterflies in Tobey’s stomach.
His other arm reaches around her, wrapping around her waist and pulling her closer to him while she loops her arms around his neck. Tobey is in pure heaven, the wonderfully sweet smell of cinnamon and honey greeting him as he breathes her in.
It’s just one simple kiss, but it seems to last a lifetime.
When Tobey eventually pulls away for a proper breath, face on fire and lips warmer than they’ve ever been, he can’t help but grin like an idiot. Becky isn’t much better, her hands coming up to hide her face in her sweater, and she mumbles something completely inaudible to him.
Despite himself, Tobey laughs, drawing Becky into a hug. She returns it after a moment, squeezing him tightly and burying her face into his shirt.
“Was it everything you hoped for?” he asks her, mirth seeping into his voice as he rubs her back. Becky swats his shoulder lightheartedly.
“Shut up,” she grumbles, pushing her hair out of her face. “It was fine.”
Tobey does not shut up. This is much too fun for him to go quiet now. “Fine?” he questions, lowering his head closer to hers. “Would you say I’m a good kisser, then?”
Becky glares at him through long, pretty lashes. “No!” she says, then pauses. “Maybe? Yes– I don’t know! I refuse to feed your ego any more!”
Snickering, he singsongs, “Too late.”
“I hate you.”
“I thought you loved me.”
“Maybe.”
Tobey grins. “Well, you know what?” he says, his arms wrapping around her shoulders. “I love you, Becky Botsford, and I’m very glad to have shared my first kiss with you.”
“You’re impossible,” Becky says, pushing him away.
“And yet I’m still getting another kiss, right?”
Tobey could never miss the smile she tries to smother. “Maybe.”
(He ends up getting five more kisses, one for each ‘I love you’ he says that evening. He goes home convinced he has to be the happiest man alive.)