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It’s hot outside.
Warm sunbeams burn the side of Johnnie’s face as he basques in their backyard, sitting on an old chair that was tucked away in the corner. It scratched on the pavement when he dragged it out into the sun, red rust marking the ground. He hopes Jake doesn’t mind.
He looks up, hand hovering over his face lazily so he doesn’t look into the sun directly. There are no clouds today and the bright blue of the sky is on display uncovered. A bird flies over, large swings splayed in flight.
His hand flops back down and Johnnie closes his eyes, listens to the fading call of the bird. A neighbour is playing R&B on the other side of the fence, and the music lowly reaches his corner of the garden. He can smell the food Jake is cooking in the kitchen, the side of his face burns.
The door behind him slides opens and can see Jake’s figure emerging in the peripheral of his vision. He’s carrying two plates, both balanced on one arm as he shuts the door behind him.
“Get!” Jake yells, squatting a bug from flying to the dish. He kicks a crate over and sits next to Johnnie, handing him his plate of food. “Here you go,” he presents with a flourish, “Panini Alla Jake.”
“Thanks,” Johnnie says, and takes the plate from his hands, their fingers brushing slightly during the exchange. Johnnie’s slender fingers knock into Jake’s broader ones.
It’s just a sandwich, not some fancy thing Jake was trying to make it out to be—the bread is a little stale and it’s cut into two uneven slices. Johnnie takes a bite regardless and a round slice of tomato slides out from the bread in his hands. It falls to the ground with a splat.
“Oops,” Johnnie says nonchalantly, looking at the fallen fruit. It covers the rust stain.
“Don’t you want to pick that up?” Jake asks after a pause, his sunglasses resting low on his nose as he peers over at Johnnie.
“Not really.”
Jake huffs a laugh. “Okay. I’m sure some bird will eat it.”
Johnnie rolls his eyes at Jake. “Birds don’t eat tomatoes.”
“Oh really?” Jake enquires sarcastically. “I didn’t know you were the bird expert.”
“Well, I am,” Johnnie replies, closing his eyes and leaning back into his chair. “I know everything.”
Jake hums. “Sure dude.”
“I wish you were a tomato.”
“Yeah?” Jake asks. “Why’s that?”
“So a bird will eat you.”
Jake laughs loudly, heading tipping back while he lets out a cackle.
“Thats crazy, Johnnie,” he says, leaning back forward. “How could a bird even eat me?”
“Like this,” Johnnie replies, and turns his hand into a beak-like shape and stars poking it into Jake’s side. “Peck, peck, peck.”
“Johnnie!” Jake cries, curling up to shield himself but still laughing. “Dude! Stop!”
Johnnie stops at his command, his body still leaning over his chair from when he reached for Jake. He can smell his cologne.
“That hurt,” Jake confesses lightly, rubbing his side in an exaggerating manner. “You’re mean.”
Johnnie smirks. “You’ll live.”
“Barely,” Jake mumbles, and puts his hand on Johnnie’s chest to push him back to his seat.
Johnnie doesn’t think about how his hand takes up his whole chest. He takes another bite of his sandwich instead, focusing pointedly on his chewing.
Jake bites into his own sandwich with a moan. “This is damn good,” he says around a mouthful of food. “I’m a pretty good chef.”
“Yeah,” Johnnie jokes, “if you call assembling ingredients ‘cooking.’”
“I’d like to see you to try to make this,” Jake exclaims, before they both look at each other in mock horror. “On second though, maybe not. I don’t want to see you anywhere near a knife.”
Johnnie grins. “I like knives,” he says in a creepy voice. “Knives are good.”
“You’re a freak,” Jake laughs. “Get away from me, psycho.”
Johnnie stands up and starts moving slowing towards Jake like a zombie, arms outreached as he pretends to target Jake. “Kniveeees.”
Jake yelps off the crate, plate still in one hand as he laughs and moves away from Johnnie. His back bumps into the door. “Stay back!”
Johnnie ignores him and makes it out so it looks like he’s about to run towards him, body crouched into a hunting position. “Blueerrrgh.”
He starts forward and Jake yells, throwing his half-eaten sandwich at Johnnie in surprise. A soggy tomato hits him in the face.
“Dude!” Johnnie exclaims, wiping it off his face and flicking it to the floor. It joins Johnnie’s slice from earlier. “That’s gross.”
Jake chuckles lowly and pushes himself off the door, setting his plate aside on the crate. He comes up closely to Johnnie, standing in front of him so he can look at the damage. He takes Johnnie’s face into one hand, tilting it slightly so he can gently wipe the tomato juice off his cheek with his other. His fingers linger lightly.
“I’m sorry,” Jake says. “I didn’t know it would hit you in the face.”
Johnnie looks up from Jake’s hand, looks at his half-sorry expression. Jake has a small smile on his face that he’s failing to conceal. His brown eyes glint.
“I find that hard to believe.”
Jake laughs softly, and Johnnie can feel the exhale from standing so close. “I really am. It was just funny, you gotta admit it.”
“So my pain is funny to you?”
“It was a slice of tomato, Johnnie. I don’t know how much damage a vegetable can do.”
Johnnie pokes Jake in the chest, the movement shortcoming from the small gap between them. “A tomato is a fruit, dumbass—even I know that.”
Jake lifts his hands in mock surrender. “Sorry, I forgot that you know everything.”
“At least you remembered.”
“Well, I am a gentleman.”
Johnnie lets his finger drop back to his side, trailing down Jake’s chest slightly in the process. “Funny,” he says. “I wouldn’t describe you as gentle and you’re definitely not a man.”
Jake takes a step forward, humming lowly. “What would you describe me as then?”
Johnnie’s breath hitches. He can feel the body heat coming off Jake, amplified by the afternoon sun. “I don’t know,” he gets out. “An asshole?”
Jake rolls his eyes. “Try again, Johnnie,” he says, hands coming up to the shorter one’s face like before. “What am I?”
Johnnie looks at Jake’s lips, at the way they are parted slightly, at the way they are turned up at the corners. Johnnie bites his own.
“Someone that’s going to kiss me, hopefully,” Johnnie says, looking up at Jake’s darkened eyes. “If not, then you’re definitely an asshole.”
Jake smirks. “Well, you’re right about one thing.”
Johnnie licks his lips. “Which one?”
“That I’m going to kiss you,” Jake asserts, his thumb caressing across Johnnie’s cheek. “If that’s okay with you?”
Johnnie nods, it’s the easiest question someone has ever asked him. “It is.”
His heart skips a beat as Jake leans down and angles Johnnie towards him, his lips warm and soft against his own. It feels right, like the warmth from the sun has filled Johnnie’s entire body completely. Their bodies press closely against each other as they deepen the kiss, taking each other in.
Jake pulls back for air tentatively, hands lowering from Johnnie’s face as he looks at him with half-closed eyes. “That was,” he starts, unable to find the right word to finish with.
“Pretty good, huh?”
Jake nods and smiles. “Totally. You taste like tomatoes.”
Johnnie slaps him halfheartedly on the chest. “So do you, idiot.”
Jake laughs, pulling Johnnie in and resting his chin on the top of his head. “Wouldn’t want it any other way.”
No, he wouldn’t.