Ficlet: Confused/Playful/Wildly Inappropriate!John (for siryn_song
For siryn_song, who requested: Playful!John, Confused!John, and Wildly Inappropriate!John. (I fit in all three!) This is NOT a drabble, it is more like a ficlet. Couldn’t help it; Terry!mun and I are very good at giving our muses angst and emo-ness right now, I thought I’d remind them they are twenty-year olds who are allowed to have fun! Could be placed sometime in the very near future. (Or not.) :) Also used for writers_muses 48.6 - friend.
John had arrived at Terry's a little bit early, and she had gotten there a little bit later then planned, so she wasn't quite ready for their weekly 'date' night. Now that So You Think You Can Dance was over, they weren't going to be ordering in and lazing about; they decided to go back to having a Sushi and Movie night.
However, with the timing being a bit off, Terry wasn't quite ready yet, and insisted she had to hop in the shower. John didn't mind much... well. Except for having to sit there with the Dog while he waited.
John sat uncomfortably on the couch, between a cushion and a basket of clean laundry, while Tripod was sitting right at his feet, staring up at him. Stupid mutt, still loved John even though he was hardly affectionate with him. (He would once in a while pat him on the head, but then the dog really wouldn't leave him alone for the rest of the night, so he usually didn't.) Tripod didn't seem to mind; as long as he got to sit near John, he seemed happy enough.
Tonight, though, he left John long enough to grab a squeaker toy, and dump it on John's lap. John raised one eyebrow. "I don't want this," he said, and tossed it to the side.
Tripod barked happily, went over and got the toy, and brought it back to John. John tossed it again. And repeat. "Oh, you want to play," John said the third time the dog brought it back. He shrugged. "Whatever, I don't have to touch you."
The sixth time, the dog just came up to John but didn't drop the toy. Just stood there, holding it in his mouth. "Dumb dog," John said. "You need to give it to me if you want me to throw it."
And now he was talking to the thing. Dumb dog indeed.
He grabbed the toy, but Tripod didn't let go. He just pulled back. So they were playing a little bit of tug-of-war, and John clicked that this was a game too. Tripod started barking (not growling) through his clenched teeth, so at least it wasn’t serious. Yet.
John decided that he wasn’t going to lose to a dumb dog, so he pulled even harder. And swear to god, the dog knew it too and let go, sending John flying backwards and knocking the basket of clean laundry to the floor.
“Tripod, you fucking dog,” John muttered under his breath. The dog just barked and sat there, panting happily as John leaned over and started to pick up the clothes.
“Almost ready, John,” Terry said as she came into the room, wearing only a bathrobe and pulling a comb through her long, red hair. She paused as she saw John on his hands and knees, beside the couch, shoving her clean clothes into the basket. “Um, John?”
“Stupid dog,” he replied, as if that explained it all. He sat back on his hunches, and held out an article of clothing.
Hooked on his finger was a lacy black and red thong.
“You know, I never got these,” he said, face scrunched up. “Like, why the hell do girls wear their underwear up their ass?”
“John!” Terry exclaimed, her cheeks going red. She came over and snatched the thong off his finger.
“What? It’s not like I care,” he said, shrugging. He pushed himself up and got back onto the couch. “But, no, seriously. What’s the point?”
“It, well. You know,” Terry said, splaying one hand out to the side while the other scrunched up the underwear in her hand. “Makes a girl feel sexy and stuff.”
John snorted. “Whatever. It’s totally about impressing guys. Like, just don’t wear any underwear at all. They’d much prefer that.” She raised an eyebrow at him, and he amended, “So I hear.”
“No, it’s just not for guys,” she countered. “It’s, like, a personal self confidence thing. No, really!”
“Whatever. It’s not like you’d wear them, like, to hang out with me or whatever. It’s totally about getting laid.”
She raised one eyebrow at him, and cocked her head to the side. She gave a smirk, and turned away from him, and slipped the underwear on. “There,” she said, adjusting her robe as she turned back to him. “I’ll wear them tonight and prove that it’s a whenever thing.”
“Fine. But one word about uncomfortable underwear…” John thought of something. “No, wait. There must be a sexy reason you bought them. Hey, are you seeing someone?”
“What? No.”
“It’s okay if you are, Terry,” John said, a little more gently. Then he smirked. “Nothing wrong with getting laid.”
She muttered, “Says the guy with two boyfriends. It’s harder for the rest of us single folks.”
John ignored her. “It’s not Will, is it? No, no…” He mused some more, then snapped his fingers. “I got it! It’s the guy that delivers the water to the office for the cooler, right?” He looked over at her. “He’s totally hot.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” she said, a little too stiffly.
“Liar,” he accused lightly, then continued, “and totally straight, did you see the way he brushed off JP last week?” John laughed. It had been a little funny, seeing JP so huffed about that.
She grinned, a little. “Okay, sort of funny. Can’t believe he slipped him his number, though. Did that make you jealous?”
John shrugged. “Don’t care. It was your number, not his.”
“… What?”
John grinned mischievously. “Nothing wrong with a little office matchmaking, you know.”
“He didn’t… he couldn’t… oh my god, he did, didn’t he?” Terry said, slapping her palm to her face. “I can never look at him again. We have to get new water. This is awful… No wonder he looked at me funny yesterday.” Terry groaned. “I can’t believe this, I’m so embarrassed. And he hasn’t even called me…”
At that moment, the phone rang. They paused in spot.
“No fucking way,” John said.
Terry was a little too slow. John jumped up and answered the phone before she did.
“Hi, this is Terry’s place. Are you the hot water guy? You are,” John said, grinning wickedly at Terry.
Terry, for her part, squeaked. And then looked like she was going to kill John. She lunged towards him, trying to get the phone.
John easily ducked out of the way, and scooted around the couch, continuously walking and dodging out of the way of Terry. “Look, guy, you should totally ask her out. She’s wearing a thong!”
“John!” Terry was obviously trying not to yell at him, as her power would probably break every piece of glass in this apartment - and bust his ear drums! - but she was not impressed with her friend.
Tripod, however, loved the scramble and dance around the room. He barked happily and hopped around as best he could. He tried jumping up on John to get the phone too, and made a very nice buffer between John and his very angry owner.
John jumped up onto the couch, making leaps across it, and Terry followed.
“And she totally needs to get laid!” John added into the phone. “Oh, I wouldn’t know, I have boyfriends, but she’s a feisty redhead, so…”
“John, I’m gonna kill you!” Terry said. She had caught up to him, so he held the phone high in the air above her head.
“Feisty, I tell you,” John yelled up at it.
Terry lunged at him again, hitting him full force, and they both crashed to the floor.
“Fuck,” John moaned as Terry landed on him. “My fucking ribs. I just finished healing those, you know.”
Terry gasped and her hands went up to her mouth. “Oh my god, are you okay? I’m so sorry, John.”
The phone was still in his hand, though his arm was reached above his head, the back of his hand resting on the floor as the phone pointed up. He tilted his head in the direction of it. “Your new girlfriend is into S&M too!”
John burst out laughing.
“You… you… you!” Terry exclaimed as she started to reach for the phone.
Even though he only really had the use of one hand at the moment, John was able to deflect Terry’s attempts easy enough. He was trained (by some of the best) for that sort of thing. Still, some of her girl scratching and hitting got him.
He yelled at the phone again, “Help me, Jean-Paul! Terry and her thong are sitting on my crotch!”
Terry paused completely, looking at him incredulously. “Jean-Paul?”
At this point, John was laughing so hard he couldn’t really breathe.
Terry looked flabbergasted. “You… you… you!” She scrambled off of him and grabbed the phone.
He rolled over and continued laughing into the floor.
“Jean-Paul? Oh my god, I am going to kill your boyfriend. Would you like to say good-bye? Actually, no, you don’t even get that…” Terry paused as Jean-Paul spoke to her, and John could see her face starting to go a little red, and not from effort expended at hitting the crap out of him either. Terry’s voice lowered, “Black and red, okay?”
John chuckled as he got up off the floor. “Oh, hey,” he said to Terry. “Ask him if he and our boyfriend have fucked yet.”
“John!”
“What? Terry, really,” he said, that mischievous grin still present. “What do you think they do when you and I have our weekly date night? They have a date night of their own. And you bet your ass it’s a lot sexier then ours. Ask him.”
“I’m not asking him!” Terry said. Into the phone, she said, “Nothing. I’m not asking anything. Now, why did you call?... Yes, I realize that’s a question, Jean-Paul.” Terry rolled her eyes.
John decided to keep talking. “Sometimes they’re gone by the time I get home. But I can tell they have had sex,” he said, quite loudly. “Our room just smells of it. And then I have to go and MASTERBATE in the SHOWER.”
“John!” Terry said, and then into the phone, “NO I don’t do THAT, Jean-Paul. Your boyfriend is being inappropriate…” She picked up a pillow and threw it at John, scowling, but then sighed. “Yes, I know you like that, but--”
“Ask him if they’ll be there later,” John prompted, after he easily ducked out of the way of the pillow.
Tripod barked, and chased the pillow to where it landed.
Terry ignored John. “Look, Jean-Paul--”
“HEY, JP,” John yelled, coming a little closer to Terry and the phone - but not too close. “DO I HAVE TO MASTURBATE IN THE SHOWER LATER?”
Terry looked mortified. John burst out laughing again. Terry shrieked into the phone, “I am not saying that. Goodbye, JP!”
She hung up the phone.
And threw it at John.
He caught it, and put it down. He grinned sheepishly at Terry, who looked as through she was going to skin him alive. “I’m sorry?”
She lunged at him again, and this time they fell back onto the couch. She tried hitting him, playfully (mostly), and kept yelling, “I hate you, John Allerdyce!”
He laughed, and was easily deflecting her attempts, until he grabbed her hands and pulled her into a hug. “You love me,” he said, breathless from all the laughing.
“You’re impossible,” she muttered into his shoulder. She pushed up off of him, and shook her head. “I’m going to go finish getting ready now.”
“Oh, just put on the granny panties and let’s go,” he said. Terry chucked one of Tripod’s toys at his head before she disappeared into her room. He easily caught it, though the dog had followed it through the air and came to sit at John’s feet, looking at the toy expectedly.
John pointed at the dog, though he was grinning. “That was all your fault, you know.”
Tripod barked.
John had arrived at Terry's a little bit early, and she had gotten there a little bit later then planned, so she wasn't quite ready for their weekly 'date' night. Now that So You Think You Can Dance was over, they weren't going to be ordering in and lazing about; they decided to go back to having a Sushi and Movie night.
However, with the timing being a bit off, Terry wasn't quite ready yet, and insisted she had to hop in the shower. John didn't mind much... well. Except for having to sit there with the Dog while he waited.
John sat uncomfortably on the couch, between a cushion and a basket of clean laundry, while Tripod was sitting right at his feet, staring up at him. Stupid mutt, still loved John even though he was hardly affectionate with him. (He would once in a while pat him on the head, but then the dog really wouldn't leave him alone for the rest of the night, so he usually didn't.) Tripod didn't seem to mind; as long as he got to sit near John, he seemed happy enough.
Tonight, though, he left John long enough to grab a squeaker toy, and dump it on John's lap. John raised one eyebrow. "I don't want this," he said, and tossed it to the side.
Tripod barked happily, went over and got the toy, and brought it back to John. John tossed it again. And repeat. "Oh, you want to play," John said the third time the dog brought it back. He shrugged. "Whatever, I don't have to touch you."
The sixth time, the dog just came up to John but didn't drop the toy. Just stood there, holding it in his mouth. "Dumb dog," John said. "You need to give it to me if you want me to throw it."
And now he was talking to the thing. Dumb dog indeed.
He grabbed the toy, but Tripod didn't let go. He just pulled back. So they were playing a little bit of tug-of-war, and John clicked that this was a game too. Tripod started barking (not growling) through his clenched teeth, so at least it wasn’t serious. Yet.
John decided that he wasn’t going to lose to a dumb dog, so he pulled even harder. And swear to god, the dog knew it too and let go, sending John flying backwards and knocking the basket of clean laundry to the floor.
“Tripod, you fucking dog,” John muttered under his breath. The dog just barked and sat there, panting happily as John leaned over and started to pick up the clothes.
“Almost ready, John,” Terry said as she came into the room, wearing only a bathrobe and pulling a comb through her long, red hair. She paused as she saw John on his hands and knees, beside the couch, shoving her clean clothes into the basket. “Um, John?”
“Stupid dog,” he replied, as if that explained it all. He sat back on his hunches, and held out an article of clothing.
Hooked on his finger was a lacy black and red thong.
“You know, I never got these,” he said, face scrunched up. “Like, why the hell do girls wear their underwear up their ass?”
“John!” Terry exclaimed, her cheeks going red. She came over and snatched the thong off his finger.
“What? It’s not like I care,” he said, shrugging. He pushed himself up and got back onto the couch. “But, no, seriously. What’s the point?”
“It, well. You know,” Terry said, splaying one hand out to the side while the other scrunched up the underwear in her hand. “Makes a girl feel sexy and stuff.”
John snorted. “Whatever. It’s totally about impressing guys. Like, just don’t wear any underwear at all. They’d much prefer that.” She raised an eyebrow at him, and he amended, “So I hear.”
“No, it’s just not for guys,” she countered. “It’s, like, a personal self confidence thing. No, really!”
“Whatever. It’s not like you’d wear them, like, to hang out with me or whatever. It’s totally about getting laid.”
She raised one eyebrow at him, and cocked her head to the side. She gave a smirk, and turned away from him, and slipped the underwear on. “There,” she said, adjusting her robe as she turned back to him. “I’ll wear them tonight and prove that it’s a whenever thing.”
“Fine. But one word about uncomfortable underwear…” John thought of something. “No, wait. There must be a sexy reason you bought them. Hey, are you seeing someone?”
“What? No.”
“It’s okay if you are, Terry,” John said, a little more gently. Then he smirked. “Nothing wrong with getting laid.”
She muttered, “Says the guy with two boyfriends. It’s harder for the rest of us single folks.”
John ignored her. “It’s not Will, is it? No, no…” He mused some more, then snapped his fingers. “I got it! It’s the guy that delivers the water to the office for the cooler, right?” He looked over at her. “He’s totally hot.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” she said, a little too stiffly.
“Liar,” he accused lightly, then continued, “and totally straight, did you see the way he brushed off JP last week?” John laughed. It had been a little funny, seeing JP so huffed about that.
She grinned, a little. “Okay, sort of funny. Can’t believe he slipped him his number, though. Did that make you jealous?”
John shrugged. “Don’t care. It was your number, not his.”
“… What?”
John grinned mischievously. “Nothing wrong with a little office matchmaking, you know.”
“He didn’t… he couldn’t… oh my god, he did, didn’t he?” Terry said, slapping her palm to her face. “I can never look at him again. We have to get new water. This is awful… No wonder he looked at me funny yesterday.” Terry groaned. “I can’t believe this, I’m so embarrassed. And he hasn’t even called me…”
At that moment, the phone rang. They paused in spot.
“No fucking way,” John said.
Terry was a little too slow. John jumped up and answered the phone before she did.
“Hi, this is Terry’s place. Are you the hot water guy? You are,” John said, grinning wickedly at Terry.
Terry, for her part, squeaked. And then looked like she was going to kill John. She lunged towards him, trying to get the phone.
John easily ducked out of the way, and scooted around the couch, continuously walking and dodging out of the way of Terry. “Look, guy, you should totally ask her out. She’s wearing a thong!”
“John!” Terry was obviously trying not to yell at him, as her power would probably break every piece of glass in this apartment - and bust his ear drums! - but she was not impressed with her friend.
Tripod, however, loved the scramble and dance around the room. He barked happily and hopped around as best he could. He tried jumping up on John to get the phone too, and made a very nice buffer between John and his very angry owner.
John jumped up onto the couch, making leaps across it, and Terry followed.
“And she totally needs to get laid!” John added into the phone. “Oh, I wouldn’t know, I have boyfriends, but she’s a feisty redhead, so…”
“John, I’m gonna kill you!” Terry said. She had caught up to him, so he held the phone high in the air above her head.
“Feisty, I tell you,” John yelled up at it.
Terry lunged at him again, hitting him full force, and they both crashed to the floor.
“Fuck,” John moaned as Terry landed on him. “My fucking ribs. I just finished healing those, you know.”
Terry gasped and her hands went up to her mouth. “Oh my god, are you okay? I’m so sorry, John.”
The phone was still in his hand, though his arm was reached above his head, the back of his hand resting on the floor as the phone pointed up. He tilted his head in the direction of it. “Your new girlfriend is into S&M too!”
John burst out laughing.
“You… you… you!” Terry exclaimed as she started to reach for the phone.
Even though he only really had the use of one hand at the moment, John was able to deflect Terry’s attempts easy enough. He was trained (by some of the best) for that sort of thing. Still, some of her girl scratching and hitting got him.
He yelled at the phone again, “Help me, Jean-Paul! Terry and her thong are sitting on my crotch!”
Terry paused completely, looking at him incredulously. “Jean-Paul?”
At this point, John was laughing so hard he couldn’t really breathe.
Terry looked flabbergasted. “You… you… you!” She scrambled off of him and grabbed the phone.
He rolled over and continued laughing into the floor.
“Jean-Paul? Oh my god, I am going to kill your boyfriend. Would you like to say good-bye? Actually, no, you don’t even get that…” Terry paused as Jean-Paul spoke to her, and John could see her face starting to go a little red, and not from effort expended at hitting the crap out of him either. Terry’s voice lowered, “Black and red, okay?”
John chuckled as he got up off the floor. “Oh, hey,” he said to Terry. “Ask him if he and our boyfriend have fucked yet.”
“John!”
“What? Terry, really,” he said, that mischievous grin still present. “What do you think they do when you and I have our weekly date night? They have a date night of their own. And you bet your ass it’s a lot sexier then ours. Ask him.”
“I’m not asking him!” Terry said. Into the phone, she said, “Nothing. I’m not asking anything. Now, why did you call?... Yes, I realize that’s a question, Jean-Paul.” Terry rolled her eyes.
John decided to keep talking. “Sometimes they’re gone by the time I get home. But I can tell they have had sex,” he said, quite loudly. “Our room just smells of it. And then I have to go and MASTERBATE in the SHOWER.”
“John!” Terry said, and then into the phone, “NO I don’t do THAT, Jean-Paul. Your boyfriend is being inappropriate…” She picked up a pillow and threw it at John, scowling, but then sighed. “Yes, I know you like that, but--”
“Ask him if they’ll be there later,” John prompted, after he easily ducked out of the way of the pillow.
Tripod barked, and chased the pillow to where it landed.
Terry ignored John. “Look, Jean-Paul--”
“HEY, JP,” John yelled, coming a little closer to Terry and the phone - but not too close. “DO I HAVE TO MASTURBATE IN THE SHOWER LATER?”
Terry looked mortified. John burst out laughing again. Terry shrieked into the phone, “I am not saying that. Goodbye, JP!”
She hung up the phone.
And threw it at John.
He caught it, and put it down. He grinned sheepishly at Terry, who looked as through she was going to skin him alive. “I’m sorry?”
She lunged at him again, and this time they fell back onto the couch. She tried hitting him, playfully (mostly), and kept yelling, “I hate you, John Allerdyce!”
He laughed, and was easily deflecting her attempts, until he grabbed her hands and pulled her into a hug. “You love me,” he said, breathless from all the laughing.
“You’re impossible,” she muttered into his shoulder. She pushed up off of him, and shook her head. “I’m going to go finish getting ready now.”
“Oh, just put on the granny panties and let’s go,” he said. Terry chucked one of Tripod’s toys at his head before she disappeared into her room. He easily caught it, though the dog had followed it through the air and came to sit at John’s feet, looking at the toy expectedly.
John pointed at the dog, though he was grinning. “That was all your fault, you know.”
Tripod barked.