Mmmmmm JohnnyBobby 73
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“We shouldn’t be doing this, man.”
“Says who?” Johnny asked. He swung himself into Bobby’s lap, Bobby’s borrowed shirt stretched tight across his shoulders. His eyes glimmered as he shook his head to clear his overgrown bangs from his eyes.
Bobby had liked him better blond.
“Kitty could be back any minute,” Bobby argued, futile, even as he slid his hands around Johnny’s waist.
“Dude,” Johnny said, grinning down at him with that devil may care smile that always made Bobby’s heart skip a beat. “Kitty just left. We’re totally,” he pressed his lips to Bobby’s, teasing little kisses, “completely alone and I’m so bored.”
“What am I supposed to do about that?” Bobby asked, even as he was tilting his head for another kiss. He kept one ear peeled for the sound of the door, which was useless where Kitty was concerned.
Johnny’s laugh was as warm as his hands and as warm as his lips, delighted when Bobby’s hands slid over his hips and down to grab his ass.
Johnny was asleep, his head resting against Bobby’s shoulder. Bobby had reclaimed his shirt, after, leaving Johnny in just a pair of shorts. Bobby let him doze; he knew Johnny was having trouble sleeping at night, because Bobby was also having trouble sleeping at night, and he’d found Johnny down in one of the twistier tunnels, staring pensively at his phone.
Bobby wanted to ask all the time why Johnny hadn’t called his sister. What Johnny thought he was doing, when he was the only one who could still go home.
But if Johnny went home, Bobby would be alone, stuck underground with his ex-girlfriend, so he never asked.
Johnny sighed, face twisting.
“Shh,” Bobby said, sliding an arm around his shoulders.
“Don’t go,” Johnny mumbled in his sleep, and Bobby was just about to promise he wouldn’t when Johnny continued, “Peter.”
Bobby tipped his head back to regard the ceiling, rubbing circles against Johnny’s arm with his thumb. That was the other reason they shouldn’t be doing this; because Johnny was still in love with a dead boy.
