He wants to sear this memory into his brain, the image of Reg on his knees, mouthing at Johnny through his briefs, breath hot and panting even through the fabric. Reg, at his feet, glancing up at Johnny with nothing but raw hunger in his eyes, as if the last six months of trying to pretend they’d never done this before hadn’t happened.
“You look so good like this,” says Johnny, once he gets his breath back.
“You’re just saying that to get me to suck your dick,” says Reg, breaking Johnny’s gaze.
Absolutely vibrating will glee over my INCREDIBLE commission from @suddenly-frankenstein of Johnny and Reg from chapter 13 of I want to hold you close, skin pressed against me tight
Johnny Cooper gets more than he bargained for when he sets out to save his friends’ bookshop from closing.
But he won’t shower again. Smelling like sex is part of Johnny’s charm. Dabbing away and redoing the most scandalous streaks on his face, he puts on way too much lipstick so he can kiss a napkin and write, Let’s make up! on a napkin. This note, he leaves for Fraser, because he’s unsure if his flatmate will make an appearance this evening. It’s always a fifty-fifty chance of Fraser drinking alone or suffering through company when he’s angry at his friends.
Johnny’s employer’s only uniform stipulation is an all black ensemble. More partial to color, Johnny capitulates only because he loves this job. He shimmies into skin-tight leather pants and a matching crop top, accessorizing with copious amounts of gold jewelry, black boots, and a spritz of citrusy cologne. One last glance in the mirror. Johnny preens. He looks like a siren, supermodel, slut. It’ll be easy enough to snare a good-looking man after his shift, and, in doing so, forget all about Reginald Seekings.
Featuring art and concept by @blood-suits-and-tears and fic by @ithappensoffstage , London Ain't The Place To Feel Lonely will be revealed on Thursday, January 1
The evening was nearly suffocatingly dry, the sand in the air lingering in Reg's nose and throat and making him cough. He'd been meant to meet the others at this club over an hour ago, but the poker game he'd been playing had turned a little threatening, and he hadn't quite felt inclined to leave before he had to. It wasn't that he hadn't believed himself capable of besting the other men at the table, if it came down to it; it was rather that on this particular kind of dusty-hot, golden desert night, Reg would have preferred nothing so much as expending as little exertion as possible.
Well, perhaps there was one form of exertion he might make an exception for, considering they only had five more days of leave and he intended to make the most of it, but by this time of night he knew his chances with the girls in the club were dwindling.
Sure enough, of the six men he'd been meant to meet here, only one remained.
His hair glowed like white gold in the dim light of the gas lamp in front of him, a vivid contrast to the royal blue fabric of his seat, and the bloody scarlet of the flowers in the little bottle on the table. His teeth were blindingly white when he saw Reg come in and grinned at him.
"You're late," he reprimanded, the moment Reg was within earshot.
"Got caught up," said Reg, sliding in to the seat beside him and gesturing to the waitress for a drink. "Where's everyone?"
"Dave met another Liverpool fellow at the last bar," said Johnny. "Got caught up chatting. Almonds and Riley found a girl and headed off to some hotel."
"A girl each?" asked Reg, trying to translate Johnny's strange phrasing, but Johnny's eyes only sparkled in amusement as he kept going.
"Bill and Eoin went to smoke, supposedly," he continued, "but that was twenty minutes ago, so I'm sure they've found some kind of mischief to get up to."
"And what about you?"
"What about me?" asked Johnny, picking something up from the dish beside him and placing it on his tongue. Reg hadn't noticed it at first, but it appeared to be a little plate of chocolates.
"Didn't want to find a girl?"
Johnny let out an amused little snort. "You don't need to bother with all that, Reginald."
"A boy then," said Reg.
"No, I haven't found a boy," said Johnny, picking up another chocolate between two long fingers and holding it up to Reg's lips, "but the night is still young."
When Reg took it on his tongue, it tasted like a promise.
For a split second, Pat thinks Reg might be jealous. He’s always had a quick temper, and Pat remembers well the incident a few months previously when they’d gone out to a gay bar together and Reg had practically dragged Johnny away from the man who was flirting with him and then straight into the bathrooms. They hadn’t returned for nearly twenty minutes, and Eoin had given a very pleased and ruffled looking Johnny such a scornful look when they returned that Pat had only barely fought back a laugh.
Reg doesn’t look angry though. He pauses for a moment to take in the sight of them, and then he hands the glasses of whiskey he carries to Pat and Johnny and returns to the kitchen to get the other two. Pat raises his eyebrows at Johnny questioningly, but Johnny just gives him a mysterious little smile and a shrug.
It’s only a moment before Reg returns again, giving Jim his glass as well before taking a seat in the red velvet armchair by Pat’s end of the couch.
Set about a year after the events of the first fic, can be read as a standalone.
