sockathan drabbles

homework - pt. 2

     "Sock?"

     "Mhm?"

     "As much as I adore doing all of your homework for you, you're not exactly making it easy on me."

     You raise your head from his lap and grunt softly in an attempt to express your displeasure, nuzzling your face into his side. A contented smile toys at your lips as he sighs, his hand running affectionately through your hair. He can protest all he wants, but you've grown confident that he wouldn't want to change things even if he could.

     The two of you had quickly fallen into a routine, traveling to either of your houses to do your homework together... "do your homework" usually being a term synonymous with "drape yourself over Jon while he does absolutely everything". It's a mutually beneficial act, you swear.

     You were hesitant at first, never initiating anything, letting Jon always be the one to pull you into his side or curl you to his chest or bury his face in your hair. After a while, though, you gained the courage to start things on your own, leaning your chin on his shoulder, holding onto his arm, pressing up against him while he worked. Now, you sometimes wonder if he regretted giving you so much help at the start, because he can barely navigate his arms around you to get anything done, what with how you're constantly curled up in his lap or lying over his legs or something of the sort.

     It's all awfully intimate, you have to admit. It feels like something you'd be doing if the two of you were more than just study buddies, but... Well, you certainly won't be the one to suggest slapping a title on it. You wouldn't want to scare Jon off. Besides, it's not like you've ever been on a proper date or anything - hell, you've never gone anywhere together save for each other's houses and school, and the second one isn't even an optional thing.

     Your face contorts a bit, scrunching up with the thought. Jon must notice as he glances down at you, raising a brow curiously.

     "What's got you racking that brain of yours, Sowachowski?"

     "Not much," you murmur absently, pressing your face into his hoodie again in an attempt to avoid giving a proper answer. Not like you can think of one to give him anyway. "Just... thinkin', I guess."

     "About...?" He sets his pencil down, shifting to rest the notebook he'd been scribbling in on his thigh. You shrug, gnawing lightly at your lower lip.

     "Dunno," you try, but the look on his face tells you he's unconvinced. A sigh slithers out from your lips. You avoid looking at him as you speak, dreading the way your voice shakes.

     "Do you think... Maybe sometime we could... I was just thinking, if you wanted to, we... This isn't going anywhere. I'm sorry."

     "Don't be," Jon reassures you. You're shocked, honestly, by how calm his expression is when you manage to look up at him. You're sure your face is aflame as he gives you a crooked half-smile, pushing some hair out of your face. "Wanna try that again? Just say it however it's going through your head. Don't give it so much thought." You let out another small sigh, steadying yourself and forcing your eyes to remain on his face.

     "Do you want to hang out sometime? Like, hang out for real. Like go out. Not go out go out, I mean, but just go somewhere or do something or... something, I... yeah." Your face turns even redder - you can feel the blood rushing to your cheeks - and you press your nose into his shirt. "Damn."

     The silence hangs for mere seconds before you feel Jon's abdomen shaking. Your brows furrow in confusion, tilting your head up to look at him. It takes a moment for you to realize he's... laughing. He presses his knuckles to his mouth to stifle the sound, something like a snort sounding out, looking down at you with something like amusement in his eyes as he shakes his head.

     "Of course, dude. I'm down. Not sure what was so hard about that, but I'll let it go." He chuckles again, scooping the notebook up and setting off to work once more. You watch him silently, feeling something soft, something like admiration, in your chest. You speak thoughtlessly, the words slipping out before you can even really process them.

     "Why'd you laugh?"

     He turns his head again for a moment, looking at you, and you feel your breath catch in your lungs. Blue eyes flicker over your face for a moment, taking it in, taking you in, before he offers a soft shrug.

     "You're something else, Sock."

     Your face flushes anew and you can't help the squeak in your voice.

     "What's that supposed to mean? A good else? Bad?" Jon rolls his eyes and grins, turning back to the book. "Jonathan, I'm serious! Answer me!" He's silent and smirking as you crawl to your knees, frustrated. "Jon, come on," you whine, but there's nothing. He's not budging. You continue to poke and pester, pulling the pencil from his fingers and trying to push the notebook away.

     "Jonathan-"

     You feel fingers close around your wrist, cutting your sentence short with a gasp. His face turns, resulting in his nose practically brushing against yours. At such close quarters, you're forced to meet his eyes, and you thank whatever deities are out there that you're on your knees rather than standing or your legs might've given out. His voice is controlled, but there's an edge to it you can't quite understand. It's... strange. Rough.

     "Good. Really good."

     You can't breathe for a few seconds as you feel him looking at you, unable to stop your eyes from shifting lower, to his lips. You feel your breath shudder in your lungs, unsure, shaky. Your head is spinning...

      He releases your wrist and turns to pick up the notebook again, scratching away like nothing's happened. You're left blinking like a deer in headlights, trying to regain some sense of what the hell you were doing or saying before all thoughts were replaced with Jonathan's mouth.

     "Now come on and lay down," he says, the only indication on his face being his slight smirk. "Stop acting like a goof. I need to get this done, and we still have geometry to do. 'We' being used loosely."

     This boy is going to be the death of you.