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Summary
If it had been anyone else he would have laughed, brushed it off as a joke, freed himself and not given it another thought. But he's been dreaming about this for so long, wanted him so badly it almost hurt at times. Trying so hard to suppress his feelings, not to fuck their friendship up. He lets his eyes run over him, his short silver hair, his cat-like eyes gleaming, that alluring half-smile, half-smirk. His smooth skin. And without realising it he lifts his hand, letting it slide over his cheek, thumb brushing over his cheekbone. He's so tempted.
"Ah, fuck it!" he groans, voice coming out strained, and surges forward, Ten landing on his back, laughing.
"Fuck me, you mean?"
"God, shut up!"
"Make me" he teases, eyes gleaming again, so Johnny does.
Title from the song with the same name by Joel Alme.