Fic: What if...?
Title: What if...?
Characters/Pairing: Justin/John
Rating: R
Summary: John makes some feelings known, to a very surprised Justin.
Warnings: None, well aside from some M/M luvvin.
A/N: These two muses have been hopping about in my brain wanting some attention. Not my usual pairing, Andrew/Justin is still my OTP, but sometimes it's good to be different.
~~
This wasn't happening.
Yet there we were.
In our kitchen.
Kissing.
Or rather he was kissing me and I was pondering aimlessly on what the hell was going on. Because we're friends, best friends. Have been since first day of kindergarten when we both went to find toys and fought over the dinosaur collection. But we're not the kind of friends who make out, ever. Sure I make out with guys, have done for a few years now. John on the other hand makes out with horny housewives and the girls of the cheer leading squad. So why is it his mouth is plastered to mine and he's got his body pressed against me so close I'm trapped between it and the kitchen sink?
I don't deny my best friend is one hot guy. Seriously gorgeous with well defined body, a body I could, on any other day, easily enjoy getting to know more intimate details about. Only, it's John, and though he's attractive I've just never thought of him in any way other than my best friend. Someone who's supported me when everyone, friends, family even have let me down. Never as a lover, never as anything other than friend, closet friend I'll ever want to have in my life.
I'm not sure why he's doing this, what has brought this on. One minute we're clearing up dishes and the next I turn around and his looming behind me, a look in his eyes as they burned into mine. He's a good kisser, a damn fine one in fact. His tongue is working all kind of magic, chasing away any kind of argument I have against this. I'm full of questions but his lips are so soft and agile against mine that I can't make any kind of words worthy of being spoken.
I'm not kissing him back, only my trying to form words possibly feels like I'm kissing him back and it's merely spurring him on. I'm rooted to the spot, completely tense with surprise at this sudden change in behavior that I can't move. Can't do anything expect accept his tongue is in my mouth and his hands, oh shit his hands are on my hips and digging into me as he presses close. Things are going to get more out of control unless I get into gear. He can't be that drunk that he isn't aware of what he's doing, we only had a beer to accompany the food. One beer would not make him act this way.
Oh this is going to be awkward, more than awkward. It's going to be one of those 'I wish the earth would open up and swallow me' moments. The kind of moment you wish you had a time machine handy so you could go back to a point and prevent it from ever happening. Ok I can focus, my hands, gripping onto the edge of the bench. I move them and manage to slide them between him and me, planting them onto his chest. Gently I push him only he seems reluctant to move away, still I have to be assertive here, no matter how awkward the next few moments are going to be. I push a little harder and finally he pulls back. I have to draw in some deep breaths because as I said, serious kissing going on.
I'm surprised when I look at him. His eyes are dark, full of want and need and damn if it isn't teetering on the side of sexy and definitely a look on any other man I'd have melted for. I blink, trying not to focus too much on them, and instead try to form those words I was trying to put together before.
"John, what the hell are you doing?" I ask him. It's a little in the lame department, I mean come on, it's obvious what he was doing. But still, give me a break, his tongue was halfway down my throat and it's all a little confusing, I'm not sure I could have come up with anything more intellectual.
It's his turn to blink, like my question is one of the most thought provoking questions anyone has ever asked him. He hasn't moved away and his hands are still on my hips, thumbs rubbing against the material of my t-shirt.
"I'm not-," He starts before pausing. "I just thought-"
Well this is going well.
"Just thought you needed-"
His hands let go of my sides but instead of stepping back, he's running his fingers up my arms and he pushes against my palms which I've still got planted on his chest. I can feel a light thrum of his heart through his t-shirt at the tips of my fingers. His chest is well defined beneath the material, all muscle and hard flesh. No, I can't focus on that. I look at him closely and he's staring at me like he's waiting for me to make a decision.
"This is a bad idea." I tell him, because it truly is.
Yet still I'm not pushing him away and he seems comfortable enough to stay where he is, rubbing lazy circles into my arms just where the material of my t-shirt covers the shoulder.
"I don't think so." He says and he's pressing closer again, closing the minute gap I'd created pushing him away.
"John!" I say exasperated because I need to understand what the hell he's doing.
"Just let me kiss you." He tells me, looking tender. There's an almost pleading look in his eyes, like he needs to kiss me.
Before I can reply he's leaning in again, lips brushing against mine with the smallest of touches and then his tongue is gliding along my lower lip. I can't prevent an involuntary shiver at the action as he presses his lips more firmly against mine. This time the kiss is more tentative, like he's testing me and I could easily become pliable at the ministration. His fingers glide back down my body, sliding around my waist and suddenly they are on my ass and I push him away in of surprise at the move.
"John, what the fuck?" I ask him confused.
"Gees Justin, you always like this when someone's trying to seduce you?" He asks me, there's a smile hinting on the edge of his lips and a glint in his eye when he says it.
Finally he steps back, gives me a little space. Not much though, he's still got his hands on my waist.
"Is this what this is?" I say and really if he doesn't start giving me straight answers I'm liable to pick up one of the dinner plates and smash it on his head.
He gives a shrug.
"Partly," He tells me.
I can't really get my head around the concept. John isn't gay or he is and this is his way of coming out, even if it is, I'm too confused to be flattered by it. Weirdly, even if he were I don't think I'd delve into a relationship with him, it's John.
"Partly?" I repeat, wanting him to elaborate.
"Yeah, partly." He agrees.
I sigh and roll my eyes. He seems to find it endearing and edges closer. I brace my hands on his chest to prevent him getting too close.
"And?" I ask, trying to act normal. Like we haven't just been making out in the kitchen only moments before.
He shrugs, I feel the defined pectorals muscles lifting slightly under my fingers as his shoulders lift.
"I wanted to."
He wanted to what? Kiss me? Seduce me? Make my head explode with a millions confused questions? Maybe I shouldn't have demanded answers. I should have pushed him away and walked away, pretending nothing had even happened.
"Why?" I find myself saying despite myself. Because I really want to know what the hell has gotten into him.
"I think we both need this."
Speak for yourself, I really don't need my best friend giving me a bunch of mixed signals as he pins me to the kitchen bench and kisses me.
"We shouldn't, this is such a bad idea."
"If we both want this then why is it such a bad idea?"
"When have I ever said I wanted this?"
"Well, maybe you don't want me," John says, another shrug, head dipping to one side and there's another glint in his eye. "But you can't deny you don't want this."
I can't reply because his hands are sliding down to my crotch and cupping me and damn if my cock isn't reacting the entirely wrong way it should be at the touch. I hold in a gasp of surprise and suddenly this has gotten way out of hand. Instead I look at him half shocked that he's insinuating all of this and I really don't know how to react. This has never been a situation I've ever even imagined happening, I'm totally caught by surprise. I drop a hand to his wrist as he starts rubbing his fingers and tighten my fingers around it to still him.
"John." I warn him, I'm totally confused and have no idea what else to say. I just hope there's enough in my voice to convey to him that I'm not on the same line of thinking as he is. He leans over me and it's like I've no strength to hold him back. His cheek rubs up against mine as he whispers into my ear.
"Maybe I need this." He tells me, and I can't prevent his fingers giving me a squeeze. I know he hears the breath escaping my lips at the touch.
"But," I start to argue, his mouth already moving away from my ear, along my jaw bone. His teeth nip my lower lip and his fingers are squeezing again. I'm like a ball of putty under his teasing and am losing all sense of control, I claw to retain it and shake my head. "No, we can't."
"Yes, we can." He reassures me, lips speaking against mine.
My fingers are curling into the material of his t-shirt and my hand is loosing it's grip around his wrist. He doesn't move his hand and I can feel his lips curling into a smile before he nips my lip with his teeth again. I dart my tongue out to lave at the place his teeth nibble and feel it connect with his, suddenly his mouth is covering mine again, tongue swirling with mine and his other hand comes up behind my head. His hand cupping me squeezes again and I give a groan of approval, trying not to jerk into the touch. I'm starting to go dizzy, unable to keep up with the assault of touch as well as the bombardment of thoughts that this is all wrong and suddenly he pulls away.
Right away, stepping back and I have to put a hand behind me on the bench as my knees threaten to buckle under me. I thought he'd changed his mind until he looks at me, eyes still full of a deep seated need, a want, for me. His tongue slips out and licks his lower lip and my eyes seem drawn to that tiny movement and then he turns and starts walking away.
I shouldn't follow, should just let him walk away. It's his way of letting me out of whatever this is. I take in a few deep breaths as he disappears from view out of the kitchen, through into the living area. I run a hand through my hair, well aware my jeans are feeling much tighter than they were only ten minutes ago. I don't need him to help finish what he started, could go to my room and just jerk off there and be done with it. But I'm curious and can't help myself.
I start walking and follow him to his bedroom.