Some obnoxious dubsteb beat was blaring through the venue,
'I'm feelin' nauseous from the freefall..'
It was like the lyrics were taunting him as red, pink and turquoise lights illuminated Johnnie, a backlight shining through his hair and casting his visible form in dark shadow.
'I'm seeing three of everything, can't shuffle my feet.'
Jake usually isn't really a 'lyrics' man per se but the irony still is not lost on him, he's had at least three too many shots and his inhibitions are loosening with every moment. The candy lights are making him sick with the desire to touch his friend. This desire would usually make him feel worse but his senses are drowned out.
Some dude is talking to Johnnie not even two feet away but he can't hear over the beat drops, Johnnie keeps looking back at him with an odd smile, he feels taunted. He probably shouldn't.
Jake really wants to touch Johnnie.
Memories of the other man falling asleep on him in that stupid fucking tent, in that stupid motel... Fuck... he can't help but feel like he's laid some claim on the other.
The dude talking to him has green eyes that shine in a sinister manner from the now neon pink club lights. The other guy's eyes have been lingering a little too long on the emo man's neck and Jake is fucking pissed. The guy hasn't done anything but he's pissed.
Jake is the one who's spent countless hours in the hospital with the other man, he's the one that almost fucking died in the same stupid haunted house with Johnnie - okay, maybe that's an overreaction but he's drunk alright?
He's the one that's spent endless nights cuddled up on the couch with his friend. He's the one that's been fantasizing about him for the past few days (for the last year).
What right does this asshole have to hit on Johnnie?
"C'mon Johnnie." He interrupts the two after getting another sidelong glance from the emo man - still unsure of what it means - and grabs the smaller's cold tattooed wrist to drag him up the steps.
"Huh?" Johnnie questions but goes along with it anyways, they're both too drunk to really care about the location of their intoxicated state.
"Wassup?" The smaller tries again in the darkness of the room, the whites of his eyes stand out in the low light - outlined by stark eyeshadow. Jake wonders if it's weird to notice that.
"Nothin', it looked like bro was bothering you." There's an edge to jus voice that he can't quite get rid of.
"I mean... he kept looking at my tits." Johnnie has such a straight face while saying the phrase and the taller man bursts out laughing, he can't help it.
"I-" There's a lot of wheezing involved, "Dude, he's looking at your neck."
Johnnie brings a hand up to the massive choker adorning him at the same time that Jake brings a hand up over the expensive chunk of metal. The emo surprisingly leans into the touch.
"Ahh.." He seems to be pondering the idea, "Still weird."
"Yeah, he was real fuckin' weird." Johnnie laughs in between drunken hiccups at the comment, Jake's tone is amusing okay? He sounds angry with the other guy in a weird distorted way.
Jake can tell that his friend is about to shrug the hand off or change the subject but he really doesn't want to let go of the physical contact.
Shadows are bathed in a sapphire hue, some odd sense of deja vu threatens his senses but he doesn't let it take over, he doesn't give a fuck about that freaky ass house or the damn motel. He cares about here and now,
and he's up for finally making some terrible mistakes tonight.
-
"We should make out." Jake's hand is loosely tangled in Johnnie's hair now, he's getting lost in the illuminated blue eyes in front of him.
"I hate to say this again since it's been a while- *hic*" Johnnie covers his mouth and fucking giggles - it's adorable. "but that's really not gonna help with the rumors."
Jake huffs a laugh that quickly devolves into hysterics,
"Fuck the rumors." He smiles at the smaller man, proud of the statement then asks again,
"Can I kiss you?" He's sure that he's wearing a dumb grin drowning in the depths of intoxication and continues, "There are no cameras..."
"That kinda makes it more.. scary." Any other time, Jake might have thought the word choice funny, it sounds so.. juvenile. They're both drunk off their asses though so it doesn't matter.
"Ugh, whatever." Johnnie rescinds, his smile is a little lopsided, the taller man thinks it's really fucking cute.
His hand buries itself deeper in the dead dyed black hair and their lips crash in a drunken haze. Jake pushes him back against the bed in this random empty room eagerly and they fall intertwined atop the sheets.
It's their first kiss not captured by a lense, it feels like their first kiss in general and Jake's got a weird pang in his gut at the thought of their first tangible 'make out sesh' being while both of them are almost blackout.
Johnnie's lips are so soft against his own that the thought quickly sinks to the back of his mind as his eyes trace the outline of the slim body bathed in moonlight.
When did Johnnie lose his shirt? When did he take off his own shirt? He's nipping at the tattoo clad man's collar bone, just above the tantalizing 'I'm Not Perfect' script. The sounds coming from him are breathy and intoxicating - probably more so than the actual alcohol. They sink into his bloodstream with a vice grip.
Pale skin is contrasted with the cool hues of silver, purple undertoned garnet and black ink. Johnnie is a work of art.
Jake's head is swimming.
Lines of ink are trailing together, he can't differentiate any of Johnnie's tattoos, everything's too hazy.
The amount that he's passed out over the last few months should be pretty concerning. This blackout feels almost comforting though despite the fact that he really no longer knows where he is.
-
Jake wakes up to the sounds of traffic and sirens, this section of LA is seriously the worst for sleeping. He really must've been blackout if the noise actually didn't disturb him at all.
He turns on his other side to come face to face with Johnnie. He'll never get tired of how relaxed and innocent the other man look when resting. The smaller's hair is all mussed up and his makeup is smeared in a way that insinuates debauchery.
The first thing that comes to mind is how peaceful this moment is, the second is that he has really fucked up.
Johnnie's shoulders and collarbones are mottled with purpling hickeys and Jake can still taste lingering alcohol in his mouth, a combination of the liquor that they both individually drank.
He remembers skin on skin, the taste of the other's fucking sweat enhanced with vodka.
His insides are roiling with anxiety, did they seriously fuck on a stranger's bed??
Is Johnnie even gay? Bisexual? Oh fuck, fucking hell - did Jake just assault his best friend?
The smaller man must sense his panic because cerulean blue eyes open to bare into his soul and Jake can feel the color drain from his face. He isn't sure what to say, Johnnie seems indifferent but he can't help himself from rushing to make an attempt at 'fixing' the situation.
"Uh, are you okay?!" He murmers hastily, fuck that was a stupid question.. At this point, he's seated against the headboard and his hands are gesticulating wildly - a nervous habit that he just can't seem to drop - as he tries to gather his bearings.
"I'm so sorry - I shouldn't have... We shouldn't have.."
Johnnie winces and flinches away from him minutely, Jake feels terrible - he is briefly stuck on the idea that he's the worst person on Earth.
He took advantage of the man closest to him, someone who he's already caused so much harm to. Someone who's already been through so much.
"Yeah... yeah, we shouldn't have.." Jake had never been able to picture it when people's eyes 'change' in literature but the image of Johnnie's expression literally dulling in front of him will be burned into his memory for a long while.
He looks so defeated - devastated even and Jake's emotions are crushing him.
"I'm so sorry.." Johnnie doesn't say anything, he just looks so upset. All Jake wants is to take it back, to take everything back.
How could he let it get to this point? He remembers asking,
'Can I kiss you?' Had Johnnie taken it the wrong way? Did he think that it would be a peck? How had it spiraled?
(Jake knows how and why it had gotten to such a point - he's been lusting after his friend for an insane amount of time. Maybe he had started to believe that the other liked him too..)
Johnnie is still next to him, motionless, he's looking right through Jake.
-
The Uber ride home is painfully awkward, so much so that neither of them can bare to hum the pop song permeating through the car.
When they get back to the apartment, both immediately retreat to seperate rooms.
Jake is sure that his friend wouldn't want to be followed even if he desperately wants to check up on him. The sick feeling in his stomach is growing exponentially, should he move out? Pay for Johnnie's therapy? The uncertainty is ripping him apart.
-
Neither get any sleep - too afraid of the consequences from the past night, Jake can hear Johnnie's record player through the thin walls. He thinks to himself that their track record of insomnia is almost impressive.
-
they kissed but at what cost?!?!?!
the song is NOT dubstep lmao it's Outrun by Veil of Maya (i saw them live, they're awesome!!)
this is almost over bare with me.
please leave votes/comments if you like! it really helps my motivation :))
stuff comes together in the end - promise!