Just Stohn

I'm in love with you

Nine didn't remember when it started.

Perhaps it was the first time he saw his hero outside his Mog cell. He could still see the young, hopeful boy with impossibly bright blue eyes, filled with determination. He recalled the surprised look on the boy's face as he realized they were supposed to meet up; that they were destined to eventually fight beside each other, quite possibly to the death. Or maybe it was seeing his friend's furious red cheeks after they fought on the rooftop, and his unwillingness to give up. Endless determination and stubbornness wasn't always Nine's favorite thing about his boyfriend, but Nine knew he would always love him. Every part of him. Always.

Words could not describe how scared Nine was when he admitted his feelings for John Smith. Nine had spent weeks before in preparation (of course John never knew about this), holed up in his apartment, pacing, muttering to himself for hours on end. It drove him insane. Nine's mind kept going back to the thought of What if he rejects me? It was that same though that kept him up at night; sometimes his brain would replay fake scenes where he got a disgusted reaction. It happened so often for so long that there were a couple points where he couldn't sort what was real and what wasn't. Finally, after many chickening out scenes where Nine would sometimes go as far as calling John up to set up a meeting, sometimes just simply staring at the phone for hours, Nine pulled himself together and said what had tortured him from the inside out for years.

It was a Friday at a party at a club. Nine didn't care nor remember which club it was, or what day it was. One of the things he did remember was that he used a small amount of alcohol to cheat himself into actually doing anything.

"Johnny."

"Yes, Nine?" John turned to face his friend, a small beer bottle in hand. His lips were quirked into an amused smirk. Damn, how that made it hard for Nine to focus.

"I- I need to say sooomething." Why did the alcohol have to slur his words now?

"You look a little red, Nine. Whatever you need to say, should I assume it's the alcohol speaki-?"

"I'm in love with youuu," Nine had blurted out way too quickly, way to carelessly.

There was silence. Christ, there was silence for too long. So long that Nine could feel every fiber in his body screaming with embarrassment, with love, for release. Nothing punctured the silence but background music, laughing people, and flashing lights. Nine just watched his friend's face, hoping, searching for something that said "Yes Nine, I'm in love with you too. Let's elope now." He couldn't tell.

"Is- is this the alcohol, or...?"

"I- uhhh... No it's me, it's meee, John I-" A warm hand had pressed on the side of his face, and Nine could feel John's healing burning out all of the drinks out of his system. He felt his jaw and knew that he now had no excuse for stuttering.

"There." John's face showed determination again. Nothing but hard, stubborn determination. God he hated that face. He could never read it. "Now say that again."

"John- I- I- shit. I'm in love with you. I've known it for so damn long but I never did anything about it cause you had your girl Sarah, then you ran off for a year, and then you came back and I was too scared to say anything. There. I fucking said it. You don't feel the same, do you?" Nine felt tears coming.

"Say it again."

Nine didn't understand. "I did. You trying to screw-?"

"No. Say the first part only."

"I'm in love with you."

"Well, shit." John cocked his head for a moment, then sighed and downed the rest of his beer.

"What-?" Nine was cut off immediately, as a pair of soft, warm lips pressed against his own. He couldn't move; eyes wide open, Nine simply stood, shell-shocked. John had pulled back ever so slightly and sighed again.

"Don't you get it, you idiot?" John whispered, his mouth brushing up against Nine's. "I'm in love with you, too."

That was it. Those were the words. That was exactly what Number Nine needed to hear all along, and John had said it.

The taller boy had grabbed his friend's face roughly and pulled him in once more, mouths crashing together. His face was burning and his heart was exploding, but he didn't care, oh he didn't care. The two boys moved in sync, John sliding his arms around Nine's neck and gripping his hair; Nine using one hand to cup John's cheek and the other moving down to pull John closer by the hips. Nine's side of the kiss was desperate and passionate. He had waited so long for this, his mind and heart devoured by longing for years and years. John's side of the kiss was sweet and slow, which agonized Nine even more. After a few moments, or possibly several sunrises, they broke apart. Neither spoke, nor opened their eyes. Instead they leaned their foreheads together and smiled.

And they stayed that way for as long as they could.