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“It just gives you whatever you need,” Stewart smirked when he noted that there was a rather large sofa in the room, as well as a table and some other comfortable furnishings, and wondered if this is what he really was thinking of when he was concentrating. He cleared his throat, “My older brother told me about it last year, he didn’t really want to though.”

He felt Dean’s hand grab his own and felt the now annoyingly familiar butterflies and rapid heartbeat. Stewart genuinely liked Dean, and it showed. He wasn’t naïve at all when it came to kissing and more, in fact he sort of regretted this whole last summer, the familiar pain running through his chest when he thought about it. But he honestly cared about Dean, and he just hoped that Dean felt the same way, and that Harper was lying. He felt Dean’s fingers against his Jeans and he just smiled and put his free hand on Dean’s lower back, making sure that the gap in between them was closed as they continued to kiss. Stewart blushed again as he accidentally let out a small moan, and then moved his hand to the back Dean’s neck and began running his fingers back and forth against Dean’s bare skin, and gently pulled away and took a few shallow breaths.

“Sofa-” he choked out as he took a few more laboured breaths. He’d never really felt this… happy, when kissing someone. This just felt right. And he bit his lip and worried about how fast things were going, and that the food he’d gotten was getting cold, but all he knew is that he just wanted to kiss Dean. It seemed like everything else was so far away, because right now all he cared about was Dean and how soft his lips were, and how fucking adorable Dean was the second after he’d pulled away.

Stewart started kissing Dean again, slower this time, taking in every part of the boy in front of him, and tried to make his way to the sofa without breaking free from the kiss. Even oxygen wasn’t the priority in his mind at that moment.