Chapter Text
You’ve been sitting on the couch, watching Johnathon nervously pour the cleansing liquid onto a cotton swab for about a couple minutes. He had his handy-dandy medical box beside him as he sat upon the carpet once more. His knee bounced somehow, even when his legs were crossed. He also seemed to be taking his sweet time preparing.
“Anytime now,” you tease.
“Okay, listen, I don’t usually take care of wounds this bad, alright? Also, you’re, like,” he scoffs, looking away then back at you, “You’re naked.”
“Woah, half-naked, Johnny, half-naked. Don’t be twisting the situation, I just peeled off the top half of my suit. Besides, how else are you gonna get to all of my boo-boos?”
You laugh a little, watching Johnathon roll his eyes as he places the bottle back onto the coffee table. Anxious-ridden, he inches closer to your knees.
“It’s gonna sting, okay?” He slowly reaches forward in hopes of moving close enough to consider it still comfortable. Finally, he presses against the open wound right below your right pectoral muscle. You jerk, gritting your teeth as the chemicals trickle upon your skin.
“Good?”
“Yeah,” you hiss between clenched teeth, glancing down at the covered injury. “All good.”
Cautiously, Johnathon began to wipe. You curse quietly, tightly gripping onto the couch. It hurt like hell. You could feel it burn ferociously, your pain receptors squealing in complete terror. Maybe letting Johnathon fix you up wasn’t the greatest thought. Honestly, you would’ve much rather be bleeding out instead of going through a thorough clean out.
Finally, he pulls away. You let out a sharp breath, “Ow.”
“I’m sorry,” Johnathon looks up at you, wincing as if he knew what exactly you were feeling right now. “I’m gonna put petroleum jelly on now, okay? It’s gonna make you feel way better.”
“Please be gentle,” you fight up a small smile in which Johnathon only blinked, his cheeks growing pink.
“Yeah, okay, I’ll try,” he whispers.
Johnathon leans forward again, eyes glued to the bright, red wound. After a moment or so, you could feel his fingers gently press upon your skin, a cool, slimy liquid beginning to spread across the injury. A few jerks, but bearable, you eventually sigh into the surprisingly pleasant massage. Softly, he’d peel his fingers away, quickly opening a bandage and placing it upon the jelly. That was one injury taken care of.
As Johnathon carried on to the rest of your body, you couldn’t help but find his gentleness so endearing. The way his hands shook every time he reached out to you, his fingers tender as if he was pressing too hard against a piece of glass that was about to shatter at any second. He’d check in every so often if you were alright, stealing a glance every time he touched you, man, he looks good at this angle. If you could, you would've reached over and run your fingers through his long hair, tuck a good chunk of it behind his ear, grab his attention and just stare into those big, brown, wonderful eyes —
“Ah —!” You curled in on yourself as a violent piercing pain shot through your lower abdominal region. Johnathon had jerked back, repeatedly apologizing as his free hand pressed against your sternum, trying his best to keep you from moving too much.
“You’re okay, you’re okay! I’m sorry, I-I didn’t know it’d hurt that much, I should’ve given you a warning!” Johnathon scanned your face in a panicked manner. From his view, he sees that you were okay, nodding gently as you managed to scourge up that signature smile.
“It’s fine, I’m cool, I’m cool,” you look up, suddenly realizing how close his face was to yours. You’d laugh, but if you even stirred an inch more you’re sure that you’d start writhing in pain.
“Okay, good, good,” Johnathon didn’t seem to mind. He seems far too worried about your health to even realize how close he had gotten to you. “There was just some crap in your cut; maybe dirt or something. I gotta clean it out… But you have to stay as still as you can for me, okay?”
As still as you can. Sounds easy enough.
“I don’t know how still I can stay,” you gently laugh, anxiously glancing down at the pad that was pressing against the injury below.
“I’ll go quick, I promise.”
You looked back to Johnathon’s big bright eyes, full of panic yet sincere determination. What a lovely man. “Just don’t go too fast.”
He nods quickly before he returns his attention to the injury. The feeling of his hand against your sternum gently traced up, his fingers dragging along your clavicle till they finally wrap around your shoulder, holding you firmly. His other hand at the bleeding site gently peeled away the pad, the sheer swipe of the pad being enough to make you jerk a little. You could feel his hand tighten on your shoulder.
Taking a deep breath, you watch as Johnathon presses the edge of the pad upon your wound and ever so carefully, he began to drag against it, pulling the dirt out from your skin. With each drag an agonizing shock of pain would stab throughout your nerves. You’d hiss, you’d curse, you’d shake. Eventually, you’d jerk too hard, making Johnathon press your shoulder harder against the couch.
“Johnathon,” you breathe, gritting your teeth through the procedure. “It really… freaking stings.”
Another swipe. This time, it pressed deeper. You gasp, harshly grabbing onto the arm that was pressing you down out of reflex.
“Almost done, I promise, please hang on for a little longer, please, please, please,” Johnathon quickly whispered in one breath as he pressed deep into the wound, applying pressure little by little which made you curl forward.
You’d let out a painful noise as the chemicals of the cleansing product seeped into your skin, nothing but fiery stabs striking throughout your body.
“Johnny —“
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I almost got it, I’m sorry —“
Your fingers dug into his arm as you trembled, the pressure far too much to keep up with. You let out a quiet cry, biting down your lip as you squeezed your eyes tight, begging, “Please Johnathon —“
And then he peeled away.
“Okay, done! All done, it’s done!”
A sharp exhale. You let gravity pull your head down, gasping soundly as your forehead landed onto Johnathon’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” you could feel Johnathon’s hand upon your back now, holding you ever so closely. “It’s over, you did it, that’s the worst of it, I’m really sorry.”
It stung like crazy, but at least his fingers weren’t pressing against it anymore. So much for tenderness. You stay there panting for a few seconds, trying your best to catch up to your breath.
“God,” you laugh breathlessly. “I’d rather it be infected than go through that again, Jesus Christ…”
“No you wouldn’t, the infection would be, like, a hundred times worse.”
“I was kidding.”
“Right, yeah, I, uh. I knew that.”
You laugh again, slowly stirring your head to look at Johnathon who seemed to be turning just as you were, merely a few inches apart. It could be internal bleeding, but a sudden warmth spilt across your chest as you gazed upon the man beside you. He stared back, eyes glued against yours, his fingers gently curling against your back muscles. Stupidly enough, the two of you were entranced within the others grasp, knowing very well one of you was still bleeding. But that didn’t stop you two from leaning in.
The both of your were reluctant; unsure. One of your hands traced up to Johnathon’s shoulder as you lured him closer just as Johnathon pressed forward. All of a sudden, your body just had to react to the cleansing pad that faintly drafted against the previous wound.
“Shit,” you curl in on yourself, but Johnathon held you in place, assuring you quietly. The both of you looked down at your injury, realizing it was a lot redder than last time.
“I should, um,” in a frenzy, Johnathon reached out for the case of jelly across the carpet. He knocked over a few objects, hands far too shaky all of a sudden. A quick apology as he shoved his fingers into the jelly, his eyes fleeting away from you.
What could’ve happened didn’t happen. Though if it didn’t happen, would it have ever happened? Maybe Johnathon was leaning in to examine your injury better. Maybe he was trying to fix the scratches on your face.
“I’m gonna apply the jelly on again, okay?” His voice wakes you back up from the mindless staring.
You nod quickly, “Okay.”
Hesitantly, Johnathon peeled his eyes away from yours as he began to work on your side. Faint discomfort, but then swiftly transitioned into a soothing feeling. You watched as he massaged your wound, his face bright pink.
Maybe it could happen in the future. Maybe the next time you aren’t bleeding out, perhaps maybe, you could finally kiss him. For now, you’ll just watch him handle your body with care, gentle and precise.
An hour passes, Johnathon is finally at his last injury, wrapping up the bleeding at your arm now. He tucks it nicely before his hands begin to squeeze onto your arm, ensuring its tightness.
“How does that feel?”
“Good,” you watched his hands softly unsqueezed, his thumbs ever so gently brushing against your wrist.
“Oh good, good. Well, I think that’s the last of it. I really thought it was going to take at least another hour, holy moly,” reluctantly, he’d peel his hands away, holding them to his lap as he looked up at you and smiled.
“Thank you, Johnathon.”
“Ah, it’s no biggie. I’m just glad you came to me for help instead of just bleeding out behind a building.”
You snorted, shaking your head at his little comment as you looked down at your body. Genuinely, he did a nice job. You were sure none of these bandages were going to irritate you or fall off while sleeping.
“Man, you look like a mummy,” Johnathon chuckled.
“Except I’m not dead. Is this why you’re called Doctor Ohnn?”
“Uh, no, it’s actually because I worked my butt off for my precious PHDs in the science fields, not the medical fields.”
“You could totally just slip into a hospital and literally save lives.”
“This was, like, nothing compared to what the actual doctors and nurses do!”
“Then you must be an angel, coming to save my life.”
Johnathon scoffs, smiling stupidly as he raises a knee up to his chest, holding it closely as he rests his chin on it. He’d look back at you just as you looked back at him. How wonderful it is to have someone who cares about you.
“Thanks for always thinking about me, Johnny,” you’d speak quietly, curling your lips tightly at the end in hopes of burying your anxiety.
Johnathon would shrug, “Of course I would, you’re my friend.”
You’d softly scoff at the usage of the word “friend,” squinting a little. Such a strange label to put on someone who you tried to kiss not too long ago. Was that really nothing? How bizarre.
Johnathon took notice of that and sat up a little straighter, his cheeks beginning to grow pink again, “What?”
“Nothing, it’s nothing, I’m just pondering,” you laugh, leaning back against the couch.
“Pondering what? It can’t be nothing if it’s actually something, man, you’ve gotta tell me! Otherwise I look like an idiot in front of you thinking it is nothing!” His arms moved as fast as his mouth did, jabbering along as he expressed himself with his exaggerated hand motions, clearly freaking out.
You decided to put him out of his misery. Mid-wave, you grab onto his flailing hands, holding them down tightly, “Relax, jeez, I was kidding! Seriously, it was nothing.” You’d rather you let his mind relax than run around on a rampage.
Johnathon manages to calm down, “How was it nothing, you were clearly thinking about something.”
“Okay, if you think it’s something, what could it possibly ever be?” You decide to press on a little, just to see what Johnathon would say. Either he’s playing dumb or he really is dumb.
The man would blink. He sighs, looking away for a second before he looks back, eyebrows furrowed as he squeezed his lips together in thought. He makes it look like it hurts to think.
You kind of snort at that, “You got anything, Doctor?”
“Shh, I’m just. Trying to figure out how to approach this,” he looked up to the ceiling now.
“What are you even — I don’t know if we’re thinking about the same thing, Johnathon.”
“God, I really hope we are.”
You watched Johnathon look back at you, his brown eyes studying your face ever so carefully. Your fingers manage to tighten around Johnathon’s hands, “Wouldn’t it be funny if you and I were referring to two completely different things?”
“…Now you’re making me overthink.”
You laugh before you feel one of his hands slip through your fingers, finding his hand trace along your jawline. He holds your face, his thumb ever so gently brushing against the edge of a bandage. You watched the nervousness build within his eyes, you could practically feel his contemplation within his fingertips. Slowly, Johnathon leans in. You followed suit, your eyelids fluttering closed as you took one last glance at his lips before darkness, followed closely by a soft kiss. You could feel his fingers press closer against your cheek, unconsciously pulling you closer. Your own hand held onto his tighter, too.
The embrace lasted for a few seconds before the two of you pulled away, gazing at the other in a dazed manner. You guys finally breathe after forgetting about oxygen during the kiss, sharing a deep exhale.
“…Please tell me you were thinking about that.”
“Absolutely not, never in a million years would I ever think about this, my god.”
Before Johnathon uttered another word, you pressed forward, planting another kiss onto his lips. He let out a soft grunt of surprise before he melted right back into you. You moved your hands ever so carefully upon his chest, traveling up to his shoulders just as you felt both of Johnathon’s hands cupping your cheeks softly. He inhaled softly, his lips parting ever so slightly as he tried his best to catch up to his breath. You quickly close the small gap between his lips with your own pair which made him squeak.
His breath would hit against your mouth when you pressed closer. You didn’t want a second without his lips against yours right now, desperately leaning into him every time he even tried to inhale oxygen. After a while, you’d start to lose your own sense of breath and pull away, ever so slowly. You finally look, finding Johnathon panting behind half-lidded eyes. His hands remained on your face as he gazed at you so carefully.
You’d smile at his breathlessness, “You’re breathing like you just ran a marathon, why didn’t you say anything? I could’ve stopped.”
He’d shake his head softly, leaning in to press his forehead against yours, “No, no, that’s, you know, it’s whatever, I don’t care. I’m just relieved that you actually wanted to kiss me back.”
“I thought me leaning into your sad attempt at your first kiss was enough to know that I was into you.”
A gentle laugh between the two of you. You look into his eyes, feeling the gentle press of his thumb upon the corner of your lips. You smile just as he did.
“Do you want to, um,” Johnathon swallows. “Stay over tonight? ‘Cause it’s late and you can’t go home all scratched up like this, right?”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll stay,” you answer quietly.
“Okay. Cool.”
“Cool.”
Even when the two of you had finally kissed, he still held onto you. You felt safe here within his grasp, allowing his eyes to trace upon your every wrinkle, freckle, your every scratch and scar. Despite your earlier bantering, you’re realizing that you could get used to this. Being held and glanced at like you are the most fragile thing in the entire world. It’s a change of pace. A pleasant surprise.
“I needed this,” you whispered. “Wake up call, y’know. I’ve been too busy running around the city that I just… I kinda forgot how it felt to be taken care of. It’s weird.”
“Oh, I can stop if it’s uncomfortable —“ He begins to pull away.
“No, no, god no,” you quickly hold one of his wrists, making sure he kept holding. Then you blinked. “Unless you’re uncomfortable, I don’t wanna force you to, like, just, hold my face in silence.”
Then he starts to ramble, going, “No, I like holding your face, your face is nice!” Blabbering like a fool. You were no different, laughing and awkwardly trying to let go of Johnathon just as he tried to hold you again. Then you let him try to hold you as soon as he pulled away, realizing way too late that you were letting go of his hands.
After a few back and forth of just nervous bickering, you finally hold his wrists down, “Okay, how about we just get some rest?”
“…Yeah, no, that’s actually a really good idea, I’m glad you brought that up.”
The stove clock glimmered a faint blue; the time being nearly 4 am. You insisted on taking the couch, but he was already setting up his bedroom to your accessibility. Your stay was already filled with arguments and awkward exchanges, so you chose to oblige.
“You sure you’ll be okay on the couch?” You’d glance at Johnathon’s face as he helped walk you down the hallway.
He blows a raspberry, “Yeah, I sleep there almost most of the time. It gets hard to crawl into bed after a long day of work.”
Gently, he slides you onto his mattress, allowing you to sit at the edge. A single night lamp lit the small bedroom. The warm color lit up the edge of Johnathon’s face ever so nicely, highlighting his brown eyes and his freckled cheeks.
“I feel bad for just crashing over and taking your bed and everything,” you shrug, smiling sheepishly.
“Don’t be. I’m literally offering this to you. I just want you to rest up, alright?” His hand held your shoulder. Firm.
You’d glance at that before looking back up to him. His eyes were suddenly wide. He quickly pulls away, clasping his hands together loudly to make a clap.
“Oh-kaaay, goodnight. Um, sleep well. If you need anything, just yell or, I don’t know, call me. I am a heavy sleeper so you might need to hit me on the head or something, haha!” Johnathon begins to walk over to the doorway, tripping his way out.
“Thank you, Johnathon,” you frantically call out. He looks back, making you freeze up a little. “For everything.”
His eyes scanned your face for a sheer moment before he let out a soft scoff, smiling to himself, “Yeah, anytime.”
You swallow, “Goodnight.”
“Night.”
The door creaks as he closes it behind him, leaving you inside of his room. You turn off the lamp and immediately lay on your back, holding your chest tightly as your heart pounded. The thumping of your rib cage was literally vibrating up into your head now. You turn to your side, desperately trying to sleep, but to no avail. How could you when your pillow smelled of him?
—
5:37 am. You couldn’t sleep.
Stepping out from the bedroom, you quietly begin to make your way down the hallway. You looked around the boxes and piles of papers for your fallen face mask. Around and around you went, you just couldn’t seem to find it. You were hoping you wouldn’t go near Johnathon right now, but it seems like that’s where this is heading.
Softly, you tread closer to the couch where Johnathon was fast asleep. His lanky body could barely fit on it; all his limbs hanging from all angles on the couch as the blanket barely held him together. You’d laugh if you hadn’t remembered that the two of you could be a potential pair. It’s exhilarating, but a rather horrifying thing to consider.
Just as you were going to look around, you actually found it within Johnathon’s grasp. It was nearly slipping off his fingers. Guess he was hoping to hand it to you himself in the morning. You smile before you crouch down and gently take the mask. From here, you could get a better look at the poor, sleep-deprived scientist. His hair was literally everywhere, you wonder if he ever wakes up getting strangled by his own locs.
Whatever came over you, you’d promise it wouldn’t again as you dragged a strand of hair and tucked it behind his ear. Gently, your hand managed to slide upon his cheek, holding his face ever so carefully. How gorgeous he looked when he was asleep.
You take your hand back, staring at him a moment longer before you stand up. You make your way to the window. You open it. You’ll text him when you get home. Stealing once last glance at Johnathon, you slip out, sliding the window behind you, and whipped out a web.