this is bad porn
If there was an award for Bad John Characterization, I'd win it.
arrrr.
(for alison_12)
John wasn't sullen, goddammit, and he wasn't quiet or uninteresting either. It wasn't that he was a bad libertine (he wasn't) or that he wasn't exciting (he is) or that he didn't know how to smile (he did). John just liked to sit back and watch the world, rather then take part. This worked well for him- the hurricane of Pete and Carl required a constant state of calm from everyone around them, a calm Gary found in music and John, in watching.
That was where Andrew Kendall found him. John was sitting straight-backed in the corner of a bar, sipping a large glass of something non-alcoholic and watching Pete and Carl argue the way only poets can, with run-on sentences and nonsense words.
"You're wrong Pete. Wrong like a man dying on his wedding day, being shot the moment he enters the church, wrong like Peter Doherty, wrong like a tiger in our arcady."
"No, I'm not. I'm 100 percent correct, up the bracket, down on Albion, and all the way through our arcady. And I like tigers."
"Tigers are so passe."
"Now you're the one who's wrong."
AK slid into the seat next to John. "How long have they been at it?" he asked, slyly bringing his camera out of his bag.
"Ages," said John, amused, but also needing to pee quite badly. "Hey, can you make sure they don't come to blows? I've been here all night, I need use the bathroom."
"Of course," said AK, already snapping a couple pictures of Pete and Carl, who had moved from bad poetry to insults.
John hurried away to the bathroom. Mangy, dirty thing that hadn't been cleaned in years and was covered in (Pete and Carl's) grafetti but it served it's purpose. At least it didn't smell. As John washed his hands, his mind wandered back to the cheeky photographer outside. A beautiful man and a clean one at that. John sighed. If only he could find a man like AK.
The door swung open and AK walked in. "Hullo John," he said.
John nodded. "Where's Pete and Carl?"
"Bartender kicked them out." AK leaned against the door, arms crossed, smiling. "So they said they were going home to have a shag."
John smiled. "They'll never stop."
"Stop what?"
"Fighting. And fucking. And then fighting some more. It's quite beautiful really, the way they interact. Makes me want to fall in love."
AK smiled too. "You don't think you're in love?"
"No, just a bit lost. I haven't really got anyone right now."
And right then, they both realised that they were the only men in the world and that girls were simply a bore. AK blushed and John brought a water-wet hand up to catch a ducking face and kissed him.
There were other people to think about, responsibilities to remember, (there always are) but those were forgotten. One slow, cautious kiss turned in to many, up and down AK's neck, over John's cheekbones and the lips. AK's lips, which tasted like a shot of gin and someone else's cigarettes and John's, which tasted of something nonalcoholic and very sweet.
John began unbuttoning clothes, almost without thinking about it. It was the action he liked, the kissing and the fingers stumbling around, trying to find buttonholes. It didn't take him long to have AK half-naked and breathless, begging through noisy kisses to please, please, please do anything. John smiled, running his hands down AK's body, sliding down shoulders, slowing down to tickle the tender spots on the sides of AK's stomach and stopping at his waist, where jeans hung on to slender hips. AK mumbled something against John's mouth, but John ignored him. Talking was a ridiculous thing to do in these situations.
He got on his knees. AK shivered with anticipation. John unzipped AK's jeans and pulled them off with such ease that for a moment, he wondered if AK was eating enough. He shook his head to clear his mind, slipped AK's boxers down to his ankles, put his hands around AK's hips and sucked. AK moaned and ran his hands from John's hair, pulling him closer.
It didn't take AK long to come and John wasn't far behind, with the help of a hand and kisses in the right places. AK dropped to his knees across from John and reached out to steady himself against John. They brought their heads together and John put his hands on AK's shoulder. "Not in love," he whispered, eyes closed.
"No," agreed AK, watching John's face move with slow delight.
"But I like you."
AK kissed him.
arrrr.
(for alison_12)
John wasn't sullen, goddammit, and he wasn't quiet or uninteresting either. It wasn't that he was a bad libertine (he wasn't) or that he wasn't exciting (he is) or that he didn't know how to smile (he did). John just liked to sit back and watch the world, rather then take part. This worked well for him- the hurricane of Pete and Carl required a constant state of calm from everyone around them, a calm Gary found in music and John, in watching.
That was where Andrew Kendall found him. John was sitting straight-backed in the corner of a bar, sipping a large glass of something non-alcoholic and watching Pete and Carl argue the way only poets can, with run-on sentences and nonsense words.
"You're wrong Pete. Wrong like a man dying on his wedding day, being shot the moment he enters the church, wrong like Peter Doherty, wrong like a tiger in our arcady."
"No, I'm not. I'm 100 percent correct, up the bracket, down on Albion, and all the way through our arcady. And I like tigers."
"Tigers are so passe."
"Now you're the one who's wrong."
AK slid into the seat next to John. "How long have they been at it?" he asked, slyly bringing his camera out of his bag.
"Ages," said John, amused, but also needing to pee quite badly. "Hey, can you make sure they don't come to blows? I've been here all night, I need use the bathroom."
"Of course," said AK, already snapping a couple pictures of Pete and Carl, who had moved from bad poetry to insults.
John hurried away to the bathroom. Mangy, dirty thing that hadn't been cleaned in years and was covered in (Pete and Carl's) grafetti but it served it's purpose. At least it didn't smell. As John washed his hands, his mind wandered back to the cheeky photographer outside. A beautiful man and a clean one at that. John sighed. If only he could find a man like AK.
The door swung open and AK walked in. "Hullo John," he said.
John nodded. "Where's Pete and Carl?"
"Bartender kicked them out." AK leaned against the door, arms crossed, smiling. "So they said they were going home to have a shag."
John smiled. "They'll never stop."
"Stop what?"
"Fighting. And fucking. And then fighting some more. It's quite beautiful really, the way they interact. Makes me want to fall in love."
AK smiled too. "You don't think you're in love?"
"No, just a bit lost. I haven't really got anyone right now."
And right then, they both realised that they were the only men in the world and that girls were simply a bore. AK blushed and John brought a water-wet hand up to catch a ducking face and kissed him.
There were other people to think about, responsibilities to remember, (there always are) but those were forgotten. One slow, cautious kiss turned in to many, up and down AK's neck, over John's cheekbones and the lips. AK's lips, which tasted like a shot of gin and someone else's cigarettes and John's, which tasted of something nonalcoholic and very sweet.
John began unbuttoning clothes, almost without thinking about it. It was the action he liked, the kissing and the fingers stumbling around, trying to find buttonholes. It didn't take him long to have AK half-naked and breathless, begging through noisy kisses to please, please, please do anything. John smiled, running his hands down AK's body, sliding down shoulders, slowing down to tickle the tender spots on the sides of AK's stomach and stopping at his waist, where jeans hung on to slender hips. AK mumbled something against John's mouth, but John ignored him. Talking was a ridiculous thing to do in these situations.
He got on his knees. AK shivered with anticipation. John unzipped AK's jeans and pulled them off with such ease that for a moment, he wondered if AK was eating enough. He shook his head to clear his mind, slipped AK's boxers down to his ankles, put his hands around AK's hips and sucked. AK moaned and ran his hands from John's hair, pulling him closer.
It didn't take AK long to come and John wasn't far behind, with the help of a hand and kisses in the right places. AK dropped to his knees across from John and reached out to steady himself against John. They brought their heads together and John put his hands on AK's shoulder. "Not in love," he whispered, eyes closed.
"No," agreed AK, watching John's face move with slow delight.
"But I like you."
AK kissed him.