RP: Date Night

[john_ispyro]

ooc: RP with the fantastic tm_northstar. Set this evening (Wed, July 9). Some mature content. (Also, a related rec! Doug and JP's date night, last Friday.)

Jean-Paul let himself into the apartment, a flurry of activity as usual. He tossed his bag to one side, hung his coat on the closet doorknob, popped into the kitchen for a drink, and kicked his shoes off all in the span of thirty seconds. He sauntered into the living room and saw John sprawled on the couch, reading a magazine.

"You're noisy," John informed him, not looking up.

Jean-Paul snorted and dropped to his hands and knees. He crawled slinkily across the floor towards the couch, smirking. John put his magazine down and shot JP a 'what the fuck?' look.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he asked.

Jean-Paul reached the couch and peered over the armrest, just a mop of black hair and a pair of wide blue eyes. "Being stealthly," he answered before crawling up and onto the couch, squirming his way up John's body to nuzzle his neck. "You promised you'd take me out today," he whispered. He paused to bite gently at John's throat. "I know exactly what I want to do, too, so you don't even have to be creative."

John's hands had immediately gone up to JP's waist, sliding under his shirt, rubbing over his smooth skin. "Oh, really?" he asked playfully. "I don't know, staying in would be good, yeah?"

JP pulled back a little bit, and John could tell he was struggling with either agreeing, or protesting just for the hell of it. His bottom lip did pout out a little bit, so John nipped at it. He dragged his tongue over the seem of JP's pursed lips, and his mouth opened easily for him.

"Hmmm," John hummed when he finally pulled away. "Tastes good."

"Jooohn," JP whined, and pouted again. "You're not making it easy for me to hold you to your promise, cher."

John laughed. "Okay, fine, we'll go out. It's not like we can't get to this later." He raised a questioning eyebrow. "What exactly am I agreeing to here?"

Jean-Paul smiled. "We're going to Staten Island," he informed John. "There's something really awesome there that I have to show you. It's a surprise."

He kissed John along the edge of his jaw, grinning. "I'll give you a hint: it's physical. You'll get quite the workout. And afterward, we can take the ferry back and if you buy me a soda we can find some filthy corner of the boat and I'll give you head. Proper date stuff." Jean-Paul rolled off the couch, springing to his feet. "Come on. Come on, come on."

Jean-Paul got his sneakers back on, very nearly vibrating with impatience. "You so don't need a coat," he informed John, trying to hurry him along. "It's summer. It's nice out." Jean-Paul was himself wearing one of his fashionably prefaded t-shirts and flares that were almost pornographically tight in the ass.

He physically shoved John out the door once the other man had gotten all his stuff together, and just barely restrained himself from kicking him down the stairs to the lobby. Finally though they made it outside and headed toward the subway headed to the ferries.

The actual trip was relatively uneventful and surprisingly quick, and before too long the pair were standing in front of an unassuming looking skate rink. John raised an eyebrow at Jean-Paul, but followed the other man inside.

Checkered floors, coloured lights, and the BeeGees blasting over the stereo.

Jean-Paul watched the horrified look on John's face with pure sadistic delight. He leaned over and kissed him quickly on the side of the mouth. "Roller disco," he stated needlessly. "My sister found it. We went with the Kiwis once. Come on, what size skate do you wear?"

Oh yes. Not even rollerblades. RollerSKATES.

"You have got to be shitting me."

John looked around, partly in disbelief but mostly in disgust. "I can't... the music... the colours. I'm going to go blind," he said, matter of factly. He shook his head. "Nuh huh. No way. I'll give up the head, too, you are not getting me out there."

"Jooooooohn! You promised!"

"I didn't promise you this!" Suddenly, John had a suspicious look on his face. "That's why you didn't let me pick, and didn't even tell me, because you knew I would say no. You asshole."

Jean-Paul batted his eyelashes. "Moi?" he asked with bogus innocence, but he grabbed John's hand when John turned to leave. "What? You CAN skate, can't you?" He raised one eyebrow. "Am I going to have to teach you how? Because seriously, this is FUN. We can race."

He grinned suddenly and pressed himself close to John, one hand moving at eyeblink speed from John's neck down to his thigh. "Winner gets a handjob in the bathroom?" he suggested huskily, and then chuckled. Then he moved away, heading toward the skate-rental counter. "Of course, if you're TERRIBLE and don't want to embarass yourself, I understand..."

John stood there for a second, and sighed. He was going to hate this, absolutely hate it. But Jean-Paul dragged his ass all the way down here, and he really wanted to go, so.

Fuck it. He would be skating.

"I am not putting anything as a bet against a speedster," he said as he walked up to the counter and leaned heavily against it beside JP. He spoke casually, as if there weren't any implications in his next sentence, "Actually, you will probably be made to pay for bringing me here, you know? I will come up with fun and creative ways to do that."

He grabbed skates in his size, and they sat down on a bench to put them on. "I am going to be terrible and embarrass myself," he said dryly, scowling at JP, as he reluctantly agreed with his previous statement. "But I do know how to rollerskate, I just haven't done it it since I was twelve. Me and my friend Ryan used to go on weekends, but. Yeah. This is going to fucking suck, you know that? I hate you."

It was true, at least he had some past history with rollerskates. It was the ice skating he wouldn't even attempt to do, for any number of handjobs in the world.

Jean-Paul just grinned, getting his skates on. He didn't really care how much John protested, he was positive that once they got out on the rink he'd enjoy himself. How could he not? It was roller disco for Chrissake. He offered John his hand, but John just glared at him so he withdrew it, chuckling.

"Did you used to go to a rink, or just like, on the sidewalk?" JP asked as he got onto the rink, circling slowly around John. JP himself hadn't really rollerskated as a child; he'd done a lot of ice skating of course, but rollerskating was something he'd discovered in his teens. It was just horribly cheesy and retro enough to catch his interest. "When you were a kid, I mean. And you realise you never talk about being a kid? Like, a little one? You can talk about being on the street, and you can even talk about your total douchebag of a stepdad, but you never talk about being like.... five years old or whatever."

The BeeGees had given way to ABBA. Jean-Paul's eyes lit up and he skated backwards in front of John easily, somehow avoiding other skaters.

"Sidewalk, mostly," John answered.

John was a little unsteady on his skates, and like flying fuck he was going to try going backwards yet, but he was doing okay. Like riding a bicycle, almost, only stupider because who the hell thought of putting wheels on feet. It was almost as bad as blades on ice.

John tilted his head to the side, considering JP's comments. JP didn't know it, but John didn't talk about life on the streets - yes, that he lived there, but there are stories he never tells. And, yeah, he mentions his stepdad too but he doesn't get into those stories much, either.

John shrugged. "I don't know. What's there to say? I was a kid. I grew up."

"John, come on," JP prompted.

John sighed. "Fine. We lived in Des Moines. Me and my mom were practically welfare cases and lived in a trailer park until she married said douchebag when I was eight. Then we lived better. I'm pretty sure that's the only reason she married that asshole was so she could feed me better and stop working two jobs. I liked the trailer park better. And then when I was thirteen I left."

Really, how much more was there to say?

Jean-Paul considered John seriously, wondering whether or not he should push it. On the one hand he was curious... but on the other, John clearly didn't really enjoy discussing his past. And he was grumpy enough already.

So JP just shrugged and rotated gracefully on hsi skates so he was beside John. He took one of his hands and squeezed it briefly. "I'm sorry about your mom," he said. "It's hard for me to imagine actually, you know. Giving a shit about your parents. It's weird... I mean, two of my girls ARE mothers, and they act like loving their kids is just natural, you know? Like how could you not? But it's perfectly possible not to. Perfectly easy."

He shrugged again and skated ahead, executing a few lazy spins in time to the music before returning to John's side again.

John appreciated what JP said about his mom, he really did; her death seemed to have gotten lost in all the other bad shit that happened in his life around that time. Not for him, he still thought about it and her, but it was nice that someone remembered, and had condolences about it. He owed his mother a lot, especially with how he had to play out her death - that was something he was still going to have to deal with, but there was just so much, and he didn't know how to do any of it. So he left it alone.

"You don't talk about your childhood much either, you know," John pointed out. "Other then how your parents didn't care, or whatever. All the riches in the world couldn't help your childhood, could it?"

"We had it good," Jean-Paul replied. "We didn't want for anything, and it's not like they beat us or kicked us out or anything like that. And we had each other, so we didn't need our parents, not really."

He smirked and waved one hand in the air. "Mother's pretty. We had nannies to raise us. It really wasn't bad at all, not until we got older, and even then for a while it was fun. Young, rich, beautiful... there's a lot worse ways to be. You would know."

He shook his head and grabbed one of John's hands. "Hey." He said, tugging at it. "Can you go faster? I wanna go faster."

"Fags!" some observant soul shouted from somewhere off to the side of the rink.

Jean-Paul ignored it. "I can pull you."

John pulled his hand away.

It had nothing to do with the comment from the punk kid. John doesn't even notice it. He never noticed anything like that, about his sexuality. He was who he was, and everyone else can just go fuck themselves.

Were they to say anything derogatory about mutants? That'd be another story.

It has everything to do with being pulled like a child.

"Jesus christ," John exclaimed. He nearly fell backwards when he pulled his hand away. He righted himself, then scowled at JP. "I can do it."

He picked up speed. Probably not what JP would like, but he tried harder to go faster, focusing on pushing his feet, and swinging his arms. He doesn't look nearly as casual and at ease as Jean-Paul, but JP was a naturally born speedster, after all. John gave it a good shot.

Jean-Paul kept pace easily, of course, but honestly it wasn't a contest, not this time. JP just liked to go fast, and it was something he wanted to share.

The two did a full pass of the rink, darting past other skaters, and once they'd begun to go around again Jean-Paul slowed, gesturing to John that he was stepping off towards the refreshment bar. He trusted he would follow, and he was right. Rather than stepping up to the counter, however, Jean-Paul leaned against the railing separating the rink from the rest of the arena. He waited for John to join him and then leaned down and kissed him softly on the edge of his mouth.

"Merci," he said.

"What for?" John asked, confused. "Putting these god-awful things on my feet? And just how many people have worn them before me, anyway?" He made a face. "It's kinda gross, dude."

He was trying to make things light, but he knew there was something more behind it. He rested against the railing too, and bumped JP's hip with his own. He asked again, "What for?"

Jean-Paul shrugged. "For taking me out."

He straightened one long leg and eyed his foot. "It IS gross," he agreed. "They spray them, but still. I always have a really hot shower when I get home. Just in case. People are filthy creatures." He kissed John again, softly.

"Not so bad, is it?" he asked. Queen was playing. How could anybody hate Queen? "If you like, you can sit for a while. I'll burn off some energy out there, and then we can go."

"I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you," John said honestly. "And you're here, so no. Not so bad."

John raised an eyebrow at him. "As long as you have enough energy for later," he said, leering playfully, then laughed. "Okay, tell you what? I'll go another lap or two, and then if you want to be all speedy, then you go ahead and I'll sit, k?"

John was just about to go and skate away when something happened, and suddenly his legs were out from underneath him, and he landed hard on his ass. "Fucking shit," he exclaimed, and then just laid back on the floor. He really didn't feel like moving anymore. "I hate it here," he said grumpily. "I hate you, Jean-Paul Beaubier."

Jean-Paul was kneeling beside John in a flash, concern etched on every feature. "HolyshitJohnareyouokaypleasesayyou're--" His brain caught up and he realised that no, John wasn't dying. He'd just fallen.

Jean-Paul slapped John on the shoulder. "Asshole," he muttered. "Klutzy asshole." He started giggling, partially out of relief, although he didn't want to admit it. "Moron." he leaned over and tongued John quite shamelessly before hauling the other man up. "Come on, you're gonna get stepped on. And I hate you, too."

John had moaned with JP kissed him, but it wasn't exactly from pleasure - it was from the pain in his ass. The actual pain in his ass, not just what he likes to refer to JP as. Though, JP's concern for him did make him feel a little pleased.

Until he tried to move, anyway, then the spike of pain sort of dulled that happy feeling.

"If I'm to sore to fuck you later, I'm going to be pissed off," he mumbled as he stood up and found his footing. He put a hand on his lower back and arched, groaning. "Jesus. I feel like an old man."

He - very carefully - skated over to a bench. He pointed to his feet. "These are coming off right now." Then he waved a hand, shooing JP away. "Go do your laps. I'll be fine."

Jean-Paul shrugged and did as he was told, chuckling to himself. He wondered briefly if he should be more concerned; John HAD nearly died, and it was possible he was having some sort of relapse, but...

Partially to silence such thoughts, JP hit the rink and sped quickly about, slowing only to show off. He had a natural grace and no sense of modesty, which meant he was pretty well the center of attention the entire time he was out there. Eventually he got bored and hopped off, sitting down beside John, grinning.

"We can go," he said, leaning over to kiss the other man again. It was a hard habit to break, he was finding. "Old man."

John had always had an attraction to watching powers. Not a physical attraction, exactly, but an... instinctual one. He just loved observing them. Magneto with his metal, Toad climbing on ceilings, Rogue taking on other powers, even stupid Bobby Drake and his damn ice.

It was a bit different with Doug, though, that was more of a deeper, emotional attraction. He loved hearing Doug talk in other languages; hell, he loved Doug talking about other languages. (Even if he had no clue what the hell was going on.) It was sexy.

He found that watching JP now was different then before. Maybe JP wasn't using his full powers, but he was going fast and moving gracefully and looking pretty damn sexy himself. John would happily sit there and watch him for hours.

Though, he was quite happy to have JP come back to him too, and kissed him back. "Fuck you," he said, rolling his eyes. "I am not an old man." He protested, even though he was the one who said it in the first place.

"Come on," he said, standing up. "You promised me a ride on the ferry."

John was very good at keeping his face deadpanned, and didn't say a thing. He quite expected JP to, in three... two... one...

"Oh, you're gonna get a ride on the ferry," Jean-Paul replied, right on cue. He got his skates off and sauntered back over to the rental area, dropping them and John's on the counter. After they both got their shoes back on he took John's arm in his and led him outside.

"I was serious," he mused aloud after a minute. "About the ferry. It's kinda dirty, but... that makes it kinda hot. And I need to have a hot shower at home ANYway."

"Uh, yeah. Look at me, totally not passing up getting a blow job from my boyfriend in a semi-public place," John said, smirking at him. "And maybe if you're good, I'll help wash you off later."

Jean-Paul pressed against John's side. "I'm ALWAYS good," he purred, and then grinned. "And you mean it, really? You'll let me do that? Peter NEVER--"

He caught himself, looking vaguely horrified. "Sorry," he muttered. "I. Sorry. I'm not trying to compare you. I just meant... I mean."

"Hey hey," John said softly. He put his hand on JP's back, rubbing it lightly. "Never apologize. And mention him all you want. It's okay. I know you aren't trying to do that. Okay?"

He gave JP a quick kiss. "Now, come on. We have a ferry to get to. And as long as it's private enough we don't get charged with indecent public exposure or whatever the fuck... I'm totally game." He tugged on JP's hand, and they made their way down to the docks.

As luck would have it they didn't have to wait long for a boat to come in and the two boarded. Jean-Paul started looking around almost at once for a nice quiet corner. "Alternately I guess we could spend the whole trip in the can," he muttered, but then his face lit up and he hauled John outside onto the deck. There were a ton of people on the boat, but most were staying indoors as the day had become a bit overcast. Jean-Paul dragged John along until he came to a small enclosure blocked off with a low metal grate. He looked around and then quickly climbed over, gesturing for John to do the same.

"Breaking the rules, Beaubier," John muttered, smirking, as he followed.

"Your fault," Jean-Paul replied, hands already going to John's fly. "You're the bad boy here, no? Mm. Keep an eye out. Once the fucking boat finally starts moving it's only like, twenty minutes or something." He cupped John through his jeans and then sank down to his knees.From their current position, the view below John's waist was mostly hidden by the grating and a large metal cylinder that housed... well, JP had no idea, actually. Nor did he much care. He didn't think they'd have to worry about anybody bothering them, anyway.

The boat and Jean-Paul both got going close to the same time. He started slow, but the ground was vaguely vibrating metal and it hurt his knees, so before long he was sucking and purring quite quickly, loving the stifled moans John was making. He felt John tense up, and at first he thought he was going to come, but instead John hissed, "shit," and Jean-Paul quieted... although his head didnt' stop moving.

"Hey, man." A man roughly in his thirties had approached the enclosure, wearing an "I Heart NY" t-shirt. Tourist. "You got a lighter, by chance?" He didn't appear to notice anything unusual, and JP realised that he must not be able to see him because of the canister. So instead of stopping, he kept right on sucking John's dick, albeit quietly.

John always had a lighter. He always had at least three lighters, sometimes more. But right now, he wanted to take one of them, pull up the flame, set the guy's clothes on fire, and hope that he jumps over the edge of the railing down into the water to put himself out. Because then at least he'd be away.

That would probably be more attention-grabbing then he wanted.

He coughed, clearing his throat, and tried to sound as normal as he could. "Sure, man," he said, and reached into the pocket of his pants, pulling it out. He only barely resisted hitting JP upside the head for being an utter bastard and still sucking him off, while he tried his hardest not to moan or make any sort of sexual sounds. The guy probably wouldn't be so pleased with that.

The tourist took it, and lit the cigarette hanging out of his mouth, and handed it back. "Thanks," he said, taking a drag and blowing out the smoke, looking over the water. "Nice, huh?"

"Yep," John said shortly. Fuck, he better go away now. And JP's tongue kept twirling, and his head kept bobbing up and down and holy fuck it was actually really hot knowing JP was doing that while

The guy turned back to John, and smiled, and was about to open his mouth when someone's yelling caught his attention. "Have a good day, eh?" he said, and took off.

When he was gone, John roughly grabbed JP by the hair. "You fucker," he said, gasping quietly. JP hummed in agreement, his lips vibrating around John's dick, and John tried to stifle a groan. He took a risk, taking a couple thrusts into JP's mouth, but then just ended up moving his hips in the tiniest movements while JP continued on, and even tugs on his hair from time to time, trying to move him in a way John wanted.

The hardest part, John came to find, was keeping his eyes open. He just wanted to lean back, tilt his head up and close his eyes, but that really wouldn't be very normal looking for a guy just standing there. His focus definitely goes a little blurred, and as much as he tried to keep his breath even, he was breathing in small, quite pants.

"JP," John finally said, voice low and rough, his hand going to brush against JP's face. "I'm-I'm gonna," he warned.

Hard to reply with your mouth full, but Jean-Paul managed to form something resembling words:

"Uh-huh."

And yup, there it was. Maybe not playing precisely by the safer-sex rules, but it was a risk JP didn't mind taking. He swallowed and very gently let his tongue slide over John's softening cock, finally moving back and standing up, wiping the back of one hand over his mouth.

"You got a lighter?" he asked, and started laughing.

"You are a fucker," John said, but he sounded rather blissed out. He reached out and grabbed JP's shirt, pulling him close, and kissed him rather lazily. He didn't care if anyone saw them.

But, his legs felt a little week and jiggly there, and he just wanted to rest. "Sitting down," John said. His back was up against a wall, and he slid down. He tugged on JP's arm. "Come on," he said. He kissed JP again, once he was down at his level. John reached over, rubbing a palm over JP's crotch. "And what about you?"

Jean-Paul bit his lower lip and squirmed. "We're almost back at the city," he said. "Not enough time, lover. Probably. Maybe. Mm. Stop touching that, Chrisse... Anyway, I can wait. I need a hot shower, remember? You can get my back."

He leaned his head against John's shoulder, closing his eyes. He could smell saltwater and exhaust and over that the scent of John's skin.

"This is nice," he said. "We should do it again. Maybe next time you won't fall on your ass."

"Maybe next time I will get to pick the place and there won't be any chance for me to fall on my ass," John said. He leaned his head against JP's. "But, yeah. It's good. We will."

After a moment, he moves his shoulder, bouncing JP's head up and down a little. "Okay, let's go. We're almost there. And we've got a shower to get to." He tucked himself into his pants and pulled up the fly, and stood up. He hauled JP up to his feet, and then whispered in his ear. "But, believe me, I got plans for us before the hot shower."

He pulled back, and smirked.

Jean-Paul arched an eyebrow at John, grinning back. "Oh?" he asked, but didn't press for details. He was perfectly happy to be surprised in this case.

While disembarking the ferry, JP spotted the guy from the deck. He waved, laughing madly, and John elbowed him in the ribs to shut him up. "I should ask him for a cigarette," Jean-Paul giggled. "I've been pretty good with the smoking, lately. Sex is a wonderful stress reliever. Maybe after August I'll actually quit. I'd say I'd try now, but... yeah, no. The Centre, and the shelter, and just stuff with people... and. You know. August. Mid-August may be bad."

Mid-August would have been his one-year anniversary with Peter.

"We'll work through it all. You'll be okay," John said softly. And then he feigned a heavy sigh. "You have to be. I'd be totally fine with you tasting less like an ashtray."

JP rolled his eyes and swatted his arm, but then looked appreciatively at him. They left it unspoken for now, but they would work through it all together. John wasn't going to have it any other way.

They made their way back to JP's part of town, deciding to stop at his place for the shower before heading back to John and Doug's. Walking through the neighborhood, JP pointed excitedly at this retro clothes shop he liked. He complained about not being able to afford anything new, but John made them stop anyway. John didn't exactly say it, but it should have been implied that he'd buy JP just about anything he wanted.

They went inside, and for the second time that day, John found himself somewhere that he normally wouldn't be, if it weren't for JP. (He found that a lot with Doug, too, but he didn't mind so much.) "Wow. Some of these clothes are... Okay, fine, all of them are totally not me."

"I'll make it my mission to find you something," JP said instantly. "You're wardrobe desperately needs some work."

"Fuck you, it does not," John said, and snorted. "But, fine. You find something that I will actually wear, and I'll get it."

"If I can make Kelly look less like Bill Cosby then I can help YOU," Jean-Paul retorted. He began flicking rapidly through the racks, pausing only to wave at the girl behind the front counter, who was sporting a deathhawk and pearls.

"You clearly shop here too much," John muttered.

"It's worse at the record stores," JP said. "I know the staff by name there. If I bring YOU in they'll ask me about it later. They-- aha."

JP pulled out a bowling shirt. As in a shirt you were supposed to BOWL in. "Something like this," he said. "I think it's your size. Oh! Or--" Zip, and back he was with what John recognised with some disbelief as something that once belonged to a Scout. It still had badges on it.

"You like camo and shit," JP said, shaking his head. "See, check it out, it's vaguely military-esque but also hip. And it has long sleeves, and it's comfy." He pushed John towards the chagerooms. "Trying shit on!" he hollered at the girl at the counter, who nodded without looking up from her magazine. JP paused en route and grabbed a polyester monstrosity of a shirt and a pair of pants for himself.

"The trick is in the fit," he explained, arming the curtain aside and shoving John inside the booth. "Okay, try those on, I'll be in the room next to yours. I wanna see."

"Yeah, okay."

John pulled off his big, baggy black t-shirt, and pulled the shirt that Jean-Paul picked out. John made a face - he hated it. On him, the colour looked like puke, and the sleeves were too long, and the little badges stuck out in weird angles.

"God, it's awful."

"Let me see!"

Jean-Paul pulled open the curtain, and looked at John. And burst out laughing. John, however, was not amused. "How come your hideous shirt looks good?" And it really was a hideous shirt, in John's opinion of style, all bright and stuff, except that it fit Jean-Paul well and looked good and would be perfect for when he went out to the clubs. Or to a stupid roller disco.

"Okay, I'm done," John said flatly, going to pull the curtain back again.

"No, no! Wait!" Jean-Paul halted him, and held up a finger. "One more chance."

JP zipped around the store, and was back in two minutes with a shirt and a pair of pants. And a handful of shirts for himself. "Just try them," he said, shoving them at John. John sighed, but he didn't say no.

He put on the pants and shirt, and looked at himself in the mirror. "Huh," he said. The pants were black, and sat low on his hips, and the legs went straight down. It wasn't that they were obscenely tight, like the ones that JP sometimes wore, but they certainly weren't the big, baggy jeans or cargos that John usually wore. And the shirt was also black, but had four gray stars, a large on on the top right side of his chest, with three ascending up the shoulder and over to the sleeve, though they got smaller in size as they did. The stars were screened on but looked worn in and comfortable, not like they were bright and shiny and new.

John had been putting on some healthy weight after being sick, but he was still slim and trim, and he'd been running a lot, making sure he stayed healthy. He always thought that tighter clothes would make him look small and weak, but these ones didn't. Not exactly. The thing about these clothes were that they fit. Perfectly. And showed off his body in a way he usually didn't.

"Huh."

"What? What?" JP asked urgently from outside. "Let me see!"

John pulled back the curtain again, and stood in front of JP, hands held out to the side. "I... think they're good?" John said. He glanced over his shoulder, looking at the back of his reflection, and then turned a slow circle. "I mean... good?"

Jean-Paul grinned. "Good," he agreed. "Chrisse. Look at that... you have an ASS! And what an ass." He eyed John's rear end appreciatively. "Oh yes. You must buy those."

He ushered John back into the changeroom, following him in so he could grab the rejects. There wasn't an awful lot of room, so he paused while reaching for the hangars and turned his head so he could kiss John on the lips. "You look good," he said again. "Just let me get out of these pants and we'll go, okay?"

"Yeah," John said, but he actually didn't really feel like leaving at the moment. Jean-Paul and him plus a confined space and them both looking really hot? Yeah, not happening.

Instead, he took JP by the hips and pulled him close, and pushed the curtain closed. "Do you think it's proper shoppers etiquette to buy those pants if I make you come in them?" John asked, nipping at JP's jaw, and kissing him hard. JP just hummed into him, and John took that as a, Maybe we should find out.

"Good material," John observed, as his hands ran over JP's ass, and then moved to the front, rubbing his crotch through them. "Kinda tight here, though?"

"You're an ass," JP said, but it didn't sound as insulting as it probably should have.

They kissed some more, and John continued to rub him, and then JP started to rock in John's hand. And that's when John got an idea.

He moved his hand away, though JP whimpered softly, but John moved one of his legs between JP's legs and pulled him close, so that JP's bulge was pressed up against his upper thigh, nearly riding on his hip. John took one of JP's hands, kissed his wrist, and then closed his hand tight around it; he repeated the same with the other. Then he brought down both hands to John's side, locking them against the wall.

"I'm tired," John said lazily. "I mean, it's been a really long day, you know? All that skating, and shopping - not to mention, I fell on my ass!" John shook his head. "I don't know, I think I might be too tired to do this right now."

JP said something in French. John was pretty sure it was something close to, Are you shitting me? But he could be wrong.

"I think that if you want to come," John said, moving his one leg a little bit so it rubbed against JP, but then stopped, "you're going to have to work for it yourself."

John smirked mischievously at that, and gripped JP's hands tighter at his side, and leaned in to nip at his bottom lip.

"I feel like I'm back in high school," Jean-Paul muttered, grinning. He started moving his hips, slow but hard, grinding himself against John's thigh. "Ah," he muttered.

Jean-Paul leaned down and kissed John, tongue demanding entry into the other man's mouth. He tongued him in the same rhythm as his thrusting, pulling his mouth away so he could pant quietly instead.

"You really are... a lazy bastard...." Jean-Paul whispered, hips speeding up. Part of him wanted to rip his pants off, but another part was enjoying the friction immensely. He ducked his head so John could suck at his neck and kiss along his jaw, concentrating on staying quiet. Staying quiet was always a challenge for JP.

John's tongue licked along the rim of his ear and JP thrust hard, biting his lip to keep from crying out. John laughed softly and Jean-Paul felt his cheeks flush violently.

"Shut up," he hissed.

"Oh, the ears," John said quietly. "You keep saying they're... heh."

"Shut up," Jean-Paul hissed again, but then John's tongue was flicking along the rim of one of his ears again, nuzzling at the lobe, and his cock was still rubbing against John's thigh, and he had his lips clamped shut to keep silent. Jean-Paul tried to pull his hands away from John, but John kept his hands clamped on JP's wrists, hauling him a little closer, stretching up as Jean-Paul lowered his head so that he could get the tip of one of Jean-Paul's ears in his mouth and bite.

Jean-Paul came so hard he nearly choked on his own breathing.

"I hate you, I HATE you," he hissed once he could speak, sliding off off John and hitting him rapidly about the head and shoulders.

"You love me," John said, laughing. He caught JP's hands again, but more gently, and pulled him close, kissing him more tenderly this time. He nuzzled JP's jaw. "You were so totally hot, there. I am so going to remember the ears thing."

John pushed JP away lightly. "Now, go get dressed," John said. "Or are you just going to wear those pants home?"

"Mon dieu, I need a shower."

"I didn't even get to do that thing I was going to do!" John exclaimed, leering at JP. "Maybe later. Now, out," he said, pushing lightly on him.

They got changed, and JP actually brought the pants and shirt up to the front of the counter, and John bought those plus his own outfit. The girl at the counter handed back his change, and went back to the reading her magazine. "Thank you, have a good day," she said automatically, not even looking at them. "Come again."

Then she laughed, still not looking at him. "You guys aren't nearly as quiet as you think you are."

John laughed as JP's cheeks flushed a little, and they went outside onto the street. "Okay, my boy," John said, grabbing his hand. "Let's get you to your shower."