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Years of his life – nearly a decade now, infatuated with his closest friend, the man that completed him, at least in his eyes. Years spent staring at him dreaming of this very moment, this very act, at last it's happening. Building up courage for weeks, he finally asked him. Soft, hot lips on Flansburgh's own he nearly fainted from excitement the minute he was given the okay. He felt a finality of what once was wash over him. And in just a moment, he pulled away.
Flansburgh stared.
"...That was horrible."
The words were venomous in their content, yet the younger man was still smiling. He, however, faltered, face turning a pale white.
"I'm sorry, I- you said it was okay, w-well I thought, but I-"
Flansburgh laughed. "No, no, I wanted you to kiss me, I just..." His face dimly flushed. "You weren't great at it."
Linnell stared at him.
"John..." He tilted his head. "Have you ever kissed anyone before?"
"Uh..."
The answer was...well, kind of . He wasn't completely unsuccessful with women, but he got overly worried about the implications of every relationship, so much so to the point he didn't pursue many people. He had, to his knowledge, kissed only two people. One was at a highschool party during a game he was roped into by people that found him a good vessel for entertainment. The other had been a woman he was set up with by a friend. The connecting factor in both of these encounters: he had never initiated.
Glancing at Flansburgh he placed his hands in his lap. "I don't remember doing it much. I thought it would be easy, I guess..."
"That's a lot of confidence from you." He grinned.
Laying back in the corner of the couch, he opened his arms to invite Linnell close to him – if he so chose. He realized, now that some of the heat of the moment was gone, his priority was mainly on trying to figure out what was comfortable for him. He was excited but ultimately, inexperienced and nervous. Linnell, to his surprise, embraced him quickly. He wanted to try with this whole thing, he could tell, he just needed guidance.
"I-I thought it was innate, I guess. I've never seen another animal do it the way we do. So I thought I'd just...know." He remarked. "But really, the exclusivity of it points more to it being learned behavior than instinct, doesn't it? I never thought about that." His voice was quiet – somewhere between a shy whisper and a comfortable mumble. Flansburgh, regardless, slid a hand up to his shoulder.
"That's a cold way to look at it, isn't it?" Cooed Flansburgh.
"Is it?" The shorter man blinked. A moment of silence passed them.
Flansburgh sighed. "No wonder you've never done this before. You talk like a biologist."
"I've done it before, I never said I didn't do it-"
"You said you didn't remember!"
"I've kissed before, look, I've just-" He briefly got louder, but at the realization of his own ineptitude softened. "I...um...I've, ah, never moved...before."
The other man wanted to laugh, but a look at his friend's (well, maybe a little past that now) face gave him restraint. He was trying his best to communicate, wasn't he? Though, privately, he felt a bit bad for the women he'd kissed before. He moved his hand up to his face. The man looked at him, and though he was unsure of its effectiveness, he tried his best to look reassuring.
"Well, I'd better teach you now before you go around kissing people like you just did, huh? For the public benefit." He said. Linnell's eyes lit up a bit.
"Oh, yeah." He concealed the excitement in his tone best he could. "For the hapless people of New York, there's no more urgent matter than being kissed well. By me."
Flansburgh's lips curled upwards. The way Linnell's voice shifted into a stilted, newscaster-esque performance was almost inappropriately comical, it made him snort a little. He shifted his position slightly, as did Linnell, for proper comfort.
Bringing his hands down to his hips he was surprised at the gasp Linnell let out simply at being touched below his chest. He supposed he didn't actually get to reach out when Linnell first kissed him due to the abruptness of it all. That was probably something worth telling him – not everyone likes being surprised. Linnell put his hands cautiously on Flansburgh's shoulders. Moving a hand back up, he brought their faces close.
"How do I start this..." He mumbled. "John, you do have to move your lips when you're not just, y’know, pecking someone. It's, ah, a bit weird without it."
"Right, right. I've been getting that idea." He was staring almost a little uncomfortably into Flansburgh's eyes. Not to say the other man cared.
"It's, uh, a little like chewing and- Mmph!"
Nearly immediately Linnell made his attempt. It was funny how confident he seemed with this of all things – though it was probably just being antsy. Indeed, his lips did seem to be moving more this time, though the motion was stilted and a bit quick. Regardless, it was a genuine improvement. Flansburgh's own lips moved on his, almost attempting to guide him. Results were unclear, but he felt himself more into it as it went on. Linnell still, quite quickly, pulled away and looked at him expectantly.
Flansburgh's face was still red. "John, jeez, would it kill you to warn me?"
The other's expression faltered. "Sorry."
"Well, that was certainly better than last time, wasn't it?" His glasses were just slightly crooked – he adjusted them shortly. "You're still a little stiff – in your technique, I mean. Sort of off-center too, a little fast. But, I mean...I think it felt good."
He looked away. "I agree, I-I think. Not much of a point of reference for this. I can go again if you'd like."
"I think that's a good idea."
He could practically see the gears in his head turning – His level of thought about this was unproductive but incredibly endearing. Truthfully, even if Linnell was bad at kissing it was hard to want to push him away. He was hopelessly cute – previously he never would have admitted it to him. The hesitation in his eyes and the care put into an act as mundane as a kiss was so him , and he'd never want it another way. Slower this time, he closed in.
'Slower' seemed to be the theme of this attempt, considering the much more calm pace at which his lips moved – almost a little too slow by his own normal standards, but he found the calmness inviting. His motion was suddenly smoother, less erratic, more calculated. The effort was there, and Flansburgh was enjoying it greatly. Moving his own lips on his he heard a small squeak emit from the other. The sound alone made his own pace pick up, it was almost a shame "please make cute noises when kissing" wasn't really advice he was ready to give.
In an experimental effort to lengthen the kiss – and hint to Linnell to stop pulling away so fast – he placed a hand on the back of his head and pushed it just enough to be encouraging. Another noise escaped him. A bit louder, a little more surprised, a whole lot needier. He was a quick learner, Flansburgh had to admit, he was very close to perfect. Perhaps, though, there was time to introduce one more thing.
Opening his mouth slightly to attempt to add tongue Linnell immediately bit him. He jerked back onto the couch.
" Gah !" He exclaimed. He could hear giggling coming from Linnell.
"I didn't mean to do that!" He laughed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."
Flansburgh fluttered his eyes open. The curling of Linnell's thick lips and the crinkling of his eyes almost made up for the pain in his tongue, though he still put on a fake pout.
"You asshole." He coughed before propping himself up and sighing. "Well, that was what I was going to introduce, so I guess you know my first piece of advice for making out."
Linnell was still smiling, though his expression was slightly concerned. "Are you still okay for doing that?"
Flansburgh nodded. "Yeah, it- it wasn't that hard." It was, in fact, that hard but he didn't want to make him feel bad. "Do you mind switching me places?"
Linnell nodded. He got up off the other man and shyly sat on the couch. Was Flansburgh really going to...? However that question ended, the answer was yes as the other John sat himself firmly on his lap. His face flushed red. He hadn't really realized how much control the previous position had given him until now, with Flansburgh straddling him he felt much more like putty in his hands (though he was not yet being touched by him).
"Kissing with tongue seems kind of weird at first but I don't think you'll struggle too much. You were going slow last time and I think, uh, you should probably keep doing that for this." He placed his hands – nearly hesitantly – on Linnell's face. "Just- do what I do, okay? You'll get it, just...no teeth."
Linnell nodded. For the first time Flansburgh was the one to connect their lips, though he was slow and clearly tried not to startle him Linnell still jumped at the contact. Kissing was expected now, doing almost what he did last time though by Flansburgh's own speed he figured he'd speed up to the best of his own abilities. As Flansburgh's mouth opened, he had no choice but to copy.
Nearly immediately he felt a moan escape him – truly, he didn't know where it came from, but Flansburgh's tongue invading his mouth probably had something to do with it. He could see why Flansburgh chose the approach he did. It was confusing to try to imagine putting into words, but he could suss out what he was supposed to do. He stuck his own tongue in Flansburgh's mouth. He had a feeling, were Flansburgh not so clearly trying to educate here that there may be more of a fight for this – dare he say, a battling for dominance ? He decided to not 'dare say', as his tongue was in someone else's mouth right now.
It felt good, the wetness of it was something he tended to be wary of but here he almost forgot how usually unsanitary he'd think the act. The noises continued – as Flansburgh's mouth was invaded a few moans came out of him as well. He'd never thought either of them this noisy, nevertheless this desperate .
Desperation seemed not to be limited to their mouths, as the distinct sensation of Flansburgh's crotch grinding against his own began. This was something he had nothing in way of experience in – not with a woman, certainly not with a man. But it didn't feel... wrong. It was starkly the opposite, in fact, it felt amazing . The pathetic noises made were not sounds he thought he was capable of creating prior, yet here he was. He gently reciprocated – hips moving slowly against his.
They continued on like this for nearly a minute until finally breaking away. This time they were both out of breath, huffing and puffing and red from multiple sensations. It was hard to tell what to say first, but they were in silent agreement over it all.
"John..." Flansburgh sputtered out. "Oh my god, that was...a...a...a better performance than last time!"
Linnell chuckled through tattered breaths. "You can tell me if I did good."
Flansburgh collapsed on top of him, arms wrapping around his torso.
"Damn right you did."
They couldn't help smiling at eachother. They were feeling a mix of things – happy, comfortable, tired, a little bit horny... ultimately, though, they were content. There was a silent sort of exchange of officiality as well. Linnell didn't immediately consider it due to his initial ineptitude, but they were sort of a thing now. Maybe not officially, he wasn't sure how Flansburgh would feel, but...it was a nice feeling. The thought creeping in of the temporary nature of relationships was still there, but he accepted that years ago. He was happy. They were both happy.
Flansburgh stretched, and let himself go from Linnell's embrace. Squirming out he sat comfortably at his side.
"Hey," His voice finally broke through the air. "I, uh, think we have some things to talk about now, don't we?"
Linnell glanced over and raised a brow. "Right now?" He was shocked by the forwardness
"No better time than now – or lunch, actually... have you even eaten today?"
"I'm not sure if I've actually eaten more than one thing in the past twenty-four hours, if I'm being honest." He sighed. "I couldn't keep much down last night."
"Well," Flansburgh left the couch, grabbing his coat off the coat rack. "Why don't we go and discuss things over at the place down the street? You like them, right? Oh, or was that the-"
"Twenty-second?" He asked.
"Yeah, that place."
"I like them fine." He got up and walked to Flansburgh's side. "That sounds fine. I can go by my place and get my wallet and-"
"Oh, don't worry about that, I can pay this time." He grabbed his hand reassuringly. Linnell still looked surprised by the contact but willing to persist. He brushed a loose strand of hair out of his eyes.
"I was, ah, gonna get my jacket too..."
Flansburgh rolled his eyes and smiled before grabbing one of his coats and loosely pulling it over him. Linnell's eyes were wide – it was nearly funny how easy it was to fluster him. Though mainly it was cute, his slightly agape mouth a reminder of their previous doings. Leading him out the door, he intertwined their hands once more.
"Don't even worry about it."