War, Love, and Snow
Title: War, Love, and Snow
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Two guys making smoochie smoochies (but really, what do you expect from a slash site?) and some swearing
Disclaimer: I don't own the Who and this story is a complete work of fiction (although I like to imagine that it did happen)
Summary: John and Keith have some fun out in the snow. Just a short fluffy little thing I wrote in honor of the first snow in my town
I'm just taking a quick break from my Keeping Warm fic, but I'll hopefully have it written and posted within the week.
"I'TS SNOWING!!!" Keith yelled, sprinting down the hallway toward the living room. John barely had time to look up before he saw the drummer's small figure flying through the air towards him.
"Oof!" He grunted as Keith hurdled into his chest. "Bloody hell, Keith, get offa me!' He tried to shove his friend off his lap, but Keith was bouncing up and down, making it impossible to get a good grip.
"It's snowing, Johnny! It's snowing!!!" Keith yelled again, his face alight with glee.
John planted a hand over Keith's mouth, trying to hush him up.
"Stop yelling, you sod. I'm right he- Ew, Keith! Nasty!" He was cut off from his scolding by Keith's wet tongue sliming his hand. When he pulled it away to wipe it off, Keith resumed his excited yelling.
"It's snowing!!!" He climbed off of John's lap and, grabbing a fistful of the bassist's shirt, pulled him up to stand with him. "C'mon Johnny, let's go outside!"
John groaned as Keith dragged him towards the door, but didn't try to resist, knowing that there's no stopping Keith when he's this excited.
"Wait one sec, Keith-" He started, when he realized Keith isn't grabbing their coats.
"No! We're going out now!" He unlatched the front door and roughly pushed the bassist through it, following close behind his heels.
"Fuckin' hell Keith, let me get me coat at least," John begged, turning back towards the house as Keith rushed out into the yard
Just as he was reaching for the door know, though, he was suddenly smacked in the back of the head by something cold and icy. He whipped his head around to see Keith with his huge, shit-eating smile on his face.
"You little shit!" John yelled, meaning to sound angry, but his voice cracked with laughter before he could finish. He charged towards the drummer and tackled him, just like he had been tackled before. Except this time, there was no soft couch behind the two boys.
John's weight crushed Keith almost a foot deep into the snow, pinning him into the ice cold ground. Keith let out a shriek from the cold seeping through his thin clothes, and he realized that John was probably right about grabbing their coats. But instead of admitting so to John, who was still lying on top of him, Keith grabbed a fistful of snow and shoved it down the back of John's shirt.
The bassist yelped loudly at the coldness and jumped off of Keith to shake it out of his shirt. Keith hurriedly took the opportunity to run behind a nearby snow bank and make another snow ball.
"I declare a snowball war!" He yelled out to John in a stiff, militaristic voice. "You have 15 seconds to get a fort and prepare yourself for attack!"
John opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by Keith's loud voice.
"FIFTEEN... FOURTEEN..."
"Alright, alright, you little-"
"THIRTEEN..."
John quickly jumped behind a bush and began to gather snow.
"Prepare to get destroyed!" He teased Keith, who pretended to ignore him by yelling numbers even louder than before.
"SEVEN... SI- Agh!!!" Whoosh! John prematurely hurdled a bundle of snow, smacking Keith right in the face.
"HEY! YOU CHEATING CUNT!" Keith screeched at his friend, and began launching snowballs at him with both hands.
For the next 30 minutes, the two boys engaged in the world's most intense snowball fight, furiously pelting each other with ice and screaming cruel insults and jests.
But suddenly, the fight slowed to a standstill, as both boys realized that their supply of snow was limited.
"Fuck! I'm out of snow!" John yelled across the yard.
"Me too!" Keith called back. He paused, trying to think of what to do. "What now?"
"Truce?" John asked, standing up.
Keith crossed his fingers behind his back before responding. "Truce," he said. He stood up, trying to hide his devious smile but failing miserably.
"What are you..." John said, noting the familiar look on Keith's face.
Keith suddenly jumped over the snow bank and ran as quickly as he could across the yard towards fresh snow.
"Hey! Not so fast!" John yelled at him as he sprinted to cut him off.
Keith had just barely crouched in the snow and started to roll a ball when John tackled him again, rolling them several feet.
"Geroff!" Keith thrashed against John, his face once again planted deep in the snow. The bassist released him slightly, and was immediately pushed up and whirled around, his back slamming against a nearby tree, with Keith pinning him down with his hands and knees.
At some point during their flip, Keith's face became positioned hardly half an inch from John's. Without pausing to think, Keith leaned forward and pressed his lips against John's. It just seemed like the natural thing to do. For a second, he allowed himself to become lost in the softness and warmth of his friend's mouth, the heat such a stark contrast from the cold environment around them.
Slowly, he came to his senses and realized what he was doing. He pulled back a few inches to look at John, trying to gauge his reaction.
Keith was expecting his friend to be angry or disgusted. What he didn't expect though, was to see the bassist smiling, his eyes closed as though trying to make the sensation last.
"John?" He inquired, his voice quiet and nervous.
"Hm?"
"What are you thinking?"
John's eyes finally popped open, observing Keith carefully. He gave a small smile to the drummer. "I'm thinking you should kiss me again."
Keith's breath caught in his throat, and he suddenly felt unstable as he leaned into John, their lips meeting again. As though he could sense Keith's unease, John wrapped his strong arms around him, pulling their bodies more tightly together. All of Keith's nerves washed away, and were replaced by a feeling of pure and complete happiness. He could hardly believe this was happening, and he never wanted the kiss to end.
But even despite all the warmth that their tightly pressed bodies produced, they couldn't ignore the fact that they were sitting in a snow pile in below freezing temperatures.
After several minutes, John reluctantly pulled back and smiled happily at Keith. "You know, I'd love to stay just like we are-" he paused to give Keith, who looked very discontented at their separation, a quick kiss before continuing. "But I'm freezing my bloody arse off out here."
"Well then, Keith replied, placing his hands on John's chest to toy with his shirt. "Why don't we nip on inside and warm up?" He bit his lip and waggled his eyebrows at his friend.
John's smile grew even wider, so that he could hardly talk around it. "You cheeky bastard," he said teasingly, pushing Keith off his lap to stand up. When the drummer got to his feet too, John wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close. He leaned down and placed a kiss on Keith's jaw, right next to his ear.
"C'mon, let's go," he whispered. They both broke out into silly grins and turned to run into the warmth of the house.
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Two guys making smoochie smoochies (but really, what do you expect from a slash site?) and some swearing
Disclaimer: I don't own the Who and this story is a complete work of fiction (although I like to imagine that it did happen)
Summary: John and Keith have some fun out in the snow. Just a short fluffy little thing I wrote in honor of the first snow in my town
I'm just taking a quick break from my Keeping Warm fic, but I'll hopefully have it written and posted within the week.
"I'TS SNOWING!!!" Keith yelled, sprinting down the hallway toward the living room. John barely had time to look up before he saw the drummer's small figure flying through the air towards him.
"Oof!" He grunted as Keith hurdled into his chest. "Bloody hell, Keith, get offa me!' He tried to shove his friend off his lap, but Keith was bouncing up and down, making it impossible to get a good grip.
"It's snowing, Johnny! It's snowing!!!" Keith yelled again, his face alight with glee.
John planted a hand over Keith's mouth, trying to hush him up.
"Stop yelling, you sod. I'm right he- Ew, Keith! Nasty!" He was cut off from his scolding by Keith's wet tongue sliming his hand. When he pulled it away to wipe it off, Keith resumed his excited yelling.
"It's snowing!!!" He climbed off of John's lap and, grabbing a fistful of the bassist's shirt, pulled him up to stand with him. "C'mon Johnny, let's go outside!"
John groaned as Keith dragged him towards the door, but didn't try to resist, knowing that there's no stopping Keith when he's this excited.
"Wait one sec, Keith-" He started, when he realized Keith isn't grabbing their coats.
"No! We're going out now!" He unlatched the front door and roughly pushed the bassist through it, following close behind his heels.
"Fuckin' hell Keith, let me get me coat at least," John begged, turning back towards the house as Keith rushed out into the yard
Just as he was reaching for the door know, though, he was suddenly smacked in the back of the head by something cold and icy. He whipped his head around to see Keith with his huge, shit-eating smile on his face.
"You little shit!" John yelled, meaning to sound angry, but his voice cracked with laughter before he could finish. He charged towards the drummer and tackled him, just like he had been tackled before. Except this time, there was no soft couch behind the two boys.
John's weight crushed Keith almost a foot deep into the snow, pinning him into the ice cold ground. Keith let out a shriek from the cold seeping through his thin clothes, and he realized that John was probably right about grabbing their coats. But instead of admitting so to John, who was still lying on top of him, Keith grabbed a fistful of snow and shoved it down the back of John's shirt.
The bassist yelped loudly at the coldness and jumped off of Keith to shake it out of his shirt. Keith hurriedly took the opportunity to run behind a nearby snow bank and make another snow ball.
"I declare a snowball war!" He yelled out to John in a stiff, militaristic voice. "You have 15 seconds to get a fort and prepare yourself for attack!"
John opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by Keith's loud voice.
"FIFTEEN... FOURTEEN..."
"Alright, alright, you little-"
"THIRTEEN..."
John quickly jumped behind a bush and began to gather snow.
"Prepare to get destroyed!" He teased Keith, who pretended to ignore him by yelling numbers even louder than before.
"SEVEN... SI- Agh!!!" Whoosh! John prematurely hurdled a bundle of snow, smacking Keith right in the face.
"HEY! YOU CHEATING CUNT!" Keith screeched at his friend, and began launching snowballs at him with both hands.
For the next 30 minutes, the two boys engaged in the world's most intense snowball fight, furiously pelting each other with ice and screaming cruel insults and jests.
But suddenly, the fight slowed to a standstill, as both boys realized that their supply of snow was limited.
"Fuck! I'm out of snow!" John yelled across the yard.
"Me too!" Keith called back. He paused, trying to think of what to do. "What now?"
"Truce?" John asked, standing up.
Keith crossed his fingers behind his back before responding. "Truce," he said. He stood up, trying to hide his devious smile but failing miserably.
"What are you..." John said, noting the familiar look on Keith's face.
Keith suddenly jumped over the snow bank and ran as quickly as he could across the yard towards fresh snow.
"Hey! Not so fast!" John yelled at him as he sprinted to cut him off.
Keith had just barely crouched in the snow and started to roll a ball when John tackled him again, rolling them several feet.
"Geroff!" Keith thrashed against John, his face once again planted deep in the snow. The bassist released him slightly, and was immediately pushed up and whirled around, his back slamming against a nearby tree, with Keith pinning him down with his hands and knees.
At some point during their flip, Keith's face became positioned hardly half an inch from John's. Without pausing to think, Keith leaned forward and pressed his lips against John's. It just seemed like the natural thing to do. For a second, he allowed himself to become lost in the softness and warmth of his friend's mouth, the heat such a stark contrast from the cold environment around them.
Slowly, he came to his senses and realized what he was doing. He pulled back a few inches to look at John, trying to gauge his reaction.
Keith was expecting his friend to be angry or disgusted. What he didn't expect though, was to see the bassist smiling, his eyes closed as though trying to make the sensation last.
"John?" He inquired, his voice quiet and nervous.
"Hm?"
"What are you thinking?"
John's eyes finally popped open, observing Keith carefully. He gave a small smile to the drummer. "I'm thinking you should kiss me again."
Keith's breath caught in his throat, and he suddenly felt unstable as he leaned into John, their lips meeting again. As though he could sense Keith's unease, John wrapped his strong arms around him, pulling their bodies more tightly together. All of Keith's nerves washed away, and were replaced by a feeling of pure and complete happiness. He could hardly believe this was happening, and he never wanted the kiss to end.
But even despite all the warmth that their tightly pressed bodies produced, they couldn't ignore the fact that they were sitting in a snow pile in below freezing temperatures.
After several minutes, John reluctantly pulled back and smiled happily at Keith. "You know, I'd love to stay just like we are-" he paused to give Keith, who looked very discontented at their separation, a quick kiss before continuing. "But I'm freezing my bloody arse off out here."
"Well then, Keith replied, placing his hands on John's chest to toy with his shirt. "Why don't we nip on inside and warm up?" He bit his lip and waggled his eyebrows at his friend.
John's smile grew even wider, so that he could hardly talk around it. "You cheeky bastard," he said teasingly, pushing Keith off his lap to stand up. When the drummer got to his feet too, John wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close. He leaned down and placed a kiss on Keith's jaw, right next to his ear.
"C'mon, let's go," he whispered. They both broke out into silly grins and turned to run into the warmth of the house.