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John was drunk. Not just a bit tipsy, but full on drunk, stumbling over nothing, mumbling nonsense and being so damn loud. Their friends were maybe even worse than John, laughing their asses off, screaming, chanting and just enjoying the party.
Smitty on the other hand didn’t drink nearly enough to be able to deal with all this. He was just on the verge of tipsy, in a good mood but still way too sober to enjoy what was happening around. He was nursing the same beer for at least the last half an hour, watching it all unfold. Sooner than later, it will all slowly die down and then he will probably be the only one awake with random bodies littering the floor and any unfortunate furniture long enough for one of the guys to lie on. Last time someone tried to sleep on the shoe rack. He really hoped it won’t happen again.
“Smiiiityyyy,” a voice right behind his ear moaned. Smitty knew who it was without even turning.
He looked up and John was leaning on the couch over Smitty’s head, his hair falling into his flushed face, smiling widely. It was a rare treat for John to be this happy and that was all thanks to the alcohol. Without it he still smiled and laughed but it never felt fully free, even when all their friends were around. But now he was, his eyes almost sparkling with glee. Smitty would give anything to see John this free without any liquid courage.
“Hey, how are you?” They talked only briefly today and then each went their separate way. John finding a way to get wasted quickly while Smitty talked to people around and drank as little as possible.
“Gooood with you around,” John slurred, still smiling. “Can I sit?”
“Sure. You probably should actually. Before you vomit all over me.”
John’s laugh was so loud it made Smitty wince. “I should.” At least he didn’t have to argue with him. John made a few steps around, stumbling and just falling into Smitty’s lap. He laughed again almost like this was exactly his goal.
“Dude, how much did you drink? Are you sure you are not gonna be sick?” Maybe there should be different thoughts in his mind with a lap full of squirmy grown ass man laughing at everything but really, he was mainly thinking about practical stuff like not wanting vomit on himself. He lost count of how many times he got to hold John like this. It never got old but he preferred it when John was at least partly aware of what he was doing.
“You are so pretty like this,” John whisper-shouted.
“That’s the alcohol, John.” Smitty sighed, now he gets to babysit John. He didn’t hate it per se, it was just… hard. John spilled secrets like nobody’s business when he was drunk. But he also spouted utter horseshit and no one knew what was what. So looking after him meant listening to a mix of sexual jokes and compliments that felt too real to be just some random drunken ramblings. It felt like a punch in the gut knowing John won’t remember shit tomorrow when here he was, almost serenading about Smitty’s lips.
“No dude, they are sooo kissable,” John breathed right into Smitty’s ear. His breath was hot and it sent shivers down Smitty’s spine. John was way too close and way too comfortable. “They are the perfect shape. Plump and pretty. Sooo pretty.” John’s hand took hold of Smitty’s face and now their faces were too close for comfort. John looked like he wanted to do something they will both regret later. Because John wasn’t gay, he was just a bit fruity, as he himself said. He was the type of guy that did not care about male stereotypes, who didn’t mind making himself the butt of the joke and who cracked way too many gay jokes. But thanks to that it was basically impossible to know what was a joke and what was real.
It was the bane of Smitty’s existence. In his head he just put everything John said into the joke bin, for his own sanity. He’s spent way too many nights already overthinking their relationship and if there could ever be something. Telling himself it was all just jokes was the only way he got himself out of that hole. They were friends. Best friends that made way too many jokes about fucking each other. His other friends also did it even if to a lesser degree. They weren’t that outside the norm.
John bumped their foreheads together, mostly just resting his head on Smitty’s. He was like a furnace. This was way too close and suddenly Smitty’s main thought was, if he’s ever seen John like this. He could see his flushed cheeks, glossy eyes, every pore on his face, every unruly hair in his mustache, feel his breath basically on his own lips. This really was too close for comfort and yet he didn’t have it in himself to stop John and push him away. He loved seeing John carefree and happy. And he loved having John for himself.
No one around was paying them much attention, they were in their little world together, Smitty got to have John in his lap, feel his body against his own, listen to John’s rambling… He should put a stop to it.
“You are burning up, John,” he said, sneaking his hand between their foreheads to check. Yeah, way too hot. “You should get some rest.”
“Nooo.” John protested, clinging to Smitty, hugging him way too tightly. He didn’t want to sleep. “I want to be here with you. You’ll be gone if I go to sleep.”
Like a child, thought Smitty. “I…” this was a bad idea, one of his worse ones. “I’ll go to bed with you. That way, you won’t be alone. Okay?” At least he can make fun of John for this. Clingy ass motherfucker.
He’ll laugh at him the whole of tomorrow for this just to mask his own gay struggles. Anyone would struggle! He has the man of his dreams in his arms, clinging to him, touching him, talking about his lips like he wants to kiss them… and he can’t do shit, because the man is drunk and straight. He was sure this has to be someone’s nightmare he was just living through. And his own too but his included about thousand ways to fuck up their friendship by making a wrong move.
“I don’t want to,” pouted John, at this point rubbing his cheek against Smitty’s. It was hell and Smitty felt at the end of the rope. What was John on about? This was heading into the whiny and annoying territory and he wasn’t sure he can handle that.
“Too bad, baby,” he said, wincing when he noticed the name. He got too used to calling everything and everyone baby. Stupid habits from video games. It was probably fine, not like John will remember it tomorrow anyway. “You are drunk and clingy. Let’s go.”
John was less than cooperative, mumbling while being almost dragged to his room. Smitty heard mix of words he couldn’t really piece together but it was probably about how mean he was and some expletives considering the rough treatment.
“Call me baby again,” John said suddenly when Smitty opened the door to the guest room.
Smitty inhaled deeply to steady himself. He didn’t remember last time he’s ever called anyone baby intentionally. “Okay, baby. Let’s get you to bed.”
John laughed, sitting down on the bed and pulling Smitty with him, making him stumble a little. “You said you will stay.”
And so Smitty did. He watched John lie down and did the same, not touching him or anything. Just two friends lying next to each other. John moved immediately, hugging him. There goes Smitty’s plan to just stay here until John falls asleep. Now if he tries to leave, he will wake him up.
“You are such a brat sometimes,” he sighed. He didn’t mind that much it just made his heart ache because John was drunk and tomorrow none of this will be real. This wasn’t even the first time they’ve slept next to each other. And each time, Smitty just had to move on and forget all the feelings that came to light.
John was so pretty like this, so open, so free. Smitty had a hard time keeping himself in check. It would be so easy to kiss him now, just on the forehead, John wouldn’t even remember it. But he couldn’t do it to him. It felt wrong. He wasn’t that kind of person. John didn’t want this. It was all just jokes. John wanted to find a girlfriend and Smitty would probably fuck up everything if it came to light that he was harboring feelings for John. He couldn’t bear losing him.
John woke up disorientated. Swallowing felt like eating sandpaper, his head was pounding and his stomach rumbling. Why did he drink so much again?
He opened his eyes to a mop of curly hair and he could swear his heart stopped for a moment. What did he do?
Immediately he tried to move away but before he could untangle his hands, Smitty was awake. They’ve looked at each other and Smitty smirked.
“You look like shit, man.”
“No shit, bitch. I feel like death.” He sat up and a wave of regret washed over him as the headache got worse. This was hell. At least he didn’t feel like vomiting. Yet. But it could come at any moment.
Smitty laughed at him, that little shit. “That’s what you get for drinking so much. You are so fucking clingy when drunk.” He also sat up and got off the bed. “I’ll get you some pills before you throw up. Just stay here.” And with that, he was gone.
John lowered himself back down. Yesterday was fun. He got to see all his friends after a long time. Matt and Puffer kept giving him shots, telling him to stop being a coward and go ask. He was drunk off his ass when he finally made it to Smitty.
He was sure he didn’t ask in the end, because Smitty was acting way too normal. Honestly too normal for spending a night in the same bed. But that’s Smitty for you. Just rolling with stuff whenever John is involved. He tried to remember what happened, but his memory was hazy and his head hurt like a bitch. What a shitty situation to find yourself in.
Before he could really think of anything else, Smitty was back with some pills and a glass of water. John didn’t even ask what it is, just took one of the reddish pills and drank all the water quickly. That should help. He was probably dehydrated anyway.
Smitty watched him with a small smile. “I’ll leave you to rest a bit. Most of the boys didn’t even make it to bed… or a couch,” he sighed, “I kinda regret not getting drunk too. Then I wouldn’t need to care for you all.”
“Yes, mommy,” John said sarcastically. Smitty raised an eyebrow and just sighed again. No way is he arguing with hungover John.
“Next time I’ll leave you drunk downstairs with all the others. No special treatment.”
“You always give me special treatment.”
Here they go again, with all these words that mean so much but nothing at all. He laughed because what else could he do? “Yeah, and I am regretting it already. Just lie down and rest. I’ll help the others and then we can get lunch or something.”
John couldn’t help himself and do a mocking salute. Smitty rolled his eyes. What was it with John today? He’s seen him hungover so many times and he usually wasn’t this sarcastic.
He went down again and most of their friends very already awake, though some were just making pained noises, be it because of a headache or a stupid sleeping position.
“So… you and John?” asked Puffer when Smitty gave him a pill with a glass of water. He really felt like their mom right now, taking care of a bunch of stupid boys who didn’t know their limits. Or didn’t care about those limits.
“Me and John what?”
“Are you a thing now?” Matt added himself into the conversation, way too happy for someone who slept on the bare floor the whole night.
Smitty looked from one to the other. What were they on about? Why would they be a thing? “No? Should we be? Did you bang your head or something?”
Matt smirked and looked at Puffer and now they were both smirking and Smitty felt out of the loop like never before.
“Pay up, I told you John is too much of a coward to do it.” Matt reached towards Puffer and Smitty watched them exchange money in utter disbelief.
“You know what? I don’t want to know. I hate you both.” He stood up and left them to their own devices. It sounded weird and he didn’t know what to think about it. The devil on his shoulder was whispering to him that he knew exactly, what it meant. It must mean his feelings are reciprocated. But he couldn’t just believe some random hangover conversation his friends had. He could hardly believe what they sometimes said while sober.
John was sitting on the bed when Smitty came back. He put himself together, changed into new clothes and brushed his teeth so he was feeling like a person again. He was doing something on his phone, not really noticing that the door opened and closed.
“Doing something?” Smitty asked in a higher cheery voice just to be a menace.
The speed at which John hid his phone told Smitty all he needed to know. It was something worth hiding and so it was also worth to annoy John until he tells him.
“How are the others?” John tried to steer the conversation away, but Smitty was not having it.
“Alive, mostly. So, what were you looking at?” He sat on the side of the bed, turning to John.
“Nothing. Got a text from Puffer.” It was a lie, Smitty was sure of that. John was way too fidgety, looking everywhere but at Smitty.
“The same Puffer that apparently just lost a bet, because you are a coward?” He regretted it the moment the words left his mouth. John froze like a deer in headlights. Finally looking at him but at what cost? It felt like a confirmation of sort, because if he was wrong, why would it elicit such a reaction from John? But could it really mean… He needed more. He needed actual proof.
“Okay, look…” John started, trying to find some justification, anything. Did Smitty know everything? Or were the two idiots able to keep their mouths shut? Knowing them… probably not.
“Yeah?” The pause was starting to feel too long, so Smitty tried to expedite the whole conversation. He was getting nervous himself. John looked like he wanted to be anywhere else and Smitty just needed confirmation. He needed to be sure he came to the correct conclusion, nothing else. Once he’ll know, there was a lot of kissing in their future and probably not much talking.
“I am sorry. This is just… that’s why I wanted to be drunk. It would be easier if I was.”
Smitty hated seeing John like this. John was usually confident and unbothered. But now he seemed so small, so not himself. He decided to try to help, at least find out the lesser secret, if he could call it that.
“Yesterday, when you were drunk, you talked a lot about my lips. Is this about the whole gay, not gay thing? You know I won’t judge you.”
John sighed, pulling his legs towards himself and hugging them. Smitty’s heart was breaking at the sight. He did this. He and his stupid mouth, trying to make John say things he probably wasn’t ready to tell him. Maybe it was really only about the gay thing and not about Smitty at all. But here he was, forcing John to come out when he wasn’t ready, no matter if maybe he felt ready yesterday. All that just for the possibility his feelings were mutual. He felt like such a shit friend.
“Yes… and no. You don’t get it. You don’t have to try to understand yourself while so many people are watching. I should already know everything about myself and yet… I don’t.” He was in his thirties, he should have it all figured out! There were teenagers knowing their label, experimenting with styles and hobbies and all that. But here he was, not knowing shit about himself and making it everyone else’s problem.
Smitty could have laughed at the moment. Shows how much they hide from each other. Feelings are hard so it’s easier to joke about them than talk them out. “You are not the only one.”
John literally rolled his eyes at him! Smitty couldn’t hold it this time, letting out a chuckle. But that just made John angry.
“I don’t need your stupid empty words. They mean nothing. I know other people go through shit like this too. Don’t laugh at me.”
“No, John, no. I go through shit like this too. I’ve been dealing with stuff like this for years. While everyone’s watching.”
“It’s not the same.”
“You are not the only one hiding stuff, you know. I just don’t talk about it much.”
John sighed, looking at Smitty and wondering how to get him to understand that finding your style and figuring your sexuality were quite different things. “You just can’t understand, dude.”
Now it was Smitty’s time to be angry, because why was John so thickheaded? He put his hands on John’s shoulders, trying to get his attention, trying to make him understand. “No, John. What part of I had a gay crisis multiple times in the last few years do you not understand?”
Time stopped for a moment. John looked at him, finally properly looked at him and maybe he finally saw how unsure Smitty looked even through the anger. Maybe he saw the same anxious energy roaming through Smitty, the shakiness in his hands, lips pressed tightly together and his eyes, tired but so hopeful.
“Oh,” was all John said. It felt like he had no other words, because he was trying to piece it all together, what it could mean, why was Smitty telling him, what happens now… he wanted to be anywhere else than here. The air felt heavy, every breath he took made him feel even more like he was drowning. Them both being gay didn’t have to mean anything. Didn’t have to change anything.
“I just… I just need to be sure John. Matt and Puffer said some things but I didn’t want to be wrong. I don’t want to ruin everything. I… I like you as a friend. As my best friend. But also…” Smitty gulped, he was really exposing himself here and he hated it so much, “Also as something more. I never told you, because it just… I didn’t want to ruin this. And you keep saying you are not gay, so I just… I don’t know.” Tears were welling up in his eyes, because John was not saying anything, so Smitty kept adding more and it felt like he was just digging himself a bigger hole with each word. “God, now I’ve fucked it all up.”
One moment, John was sitting, holding his legs and just staring at him and the next, he was hugging Smitty, throwing himself at him with such a force they both fell backwards onto the bed.
“I… I feel something more too,” John whispered. They were so close, Smitty lying on his back with John partly on him, holding himself up on his elbows.
Smitty smiled widely and John matched him, until they both started laughing. It felt good. Like maybe they didn’t break anything in their friendship. And now there was a whole new part they could explore.
“I want to kiss you.” If possible, Smitty wanted to frame the expression on John’s face. It felt like maybe John wasn’t fully believing what was happening yet and Smitty’s request made it finally sink in. He looked surprised, hopeful and then he smiled and Smitty was a goner.
The first kiss was slow; they were both unsure how their faces fit together and they just kept smiling at each other because it was happening and it was real. John’s mouth was velvety soft and he tasted like a mint toothpaste.
Smitty rolled them over on the side, tangling his hands in John’s hair, trying to get a better taste. It was perfect. It was everything he’s ever wanted and more because this wasn’t just some dream, this was reality. John was melting under his hands, smiling and kissing him back, making these little cut off sounds enjoying Smitty’s touches and Smitty was on top of the world.
He thought he would ruin everything. He was sure it was always just jokes and he was the only one struggling.
“Someone’s eager,” commented John when they let go of each other, now lying with noses maybe an inch apart, watching one another and grinning.
“Someone’s been dreaming of this for years.”
“Oh, is that someone the little old me?”
Smitty giggled. This was his John, finally feeling confident again. He loved to see it, because seeing John small and scared hurt. He never wanted to see him like that again.
“Maybe. You have a competition though. I feel so stupid. Did Matt and Puffer know?”
John’s hand in his hair stopped playing with his curls. “I feel stupid,” he said quietly. “I never knew… I never even thought you could be gay. Matt kept telling me I am stupid and you don’t act like that to anyone else but… dunno, you do crack a lot of gay jokes with everyone.”
“Don’t act like you don’t do the same. You are the king of saying some fucked up shit, man.” Smitty bit his lip, thinking how to word it the best way. “But you are special. You’ve always been special.”
The smile on John’s face really made it all worth it. “Stop sweet-talking me, pussy. I can’t believe you’ve hid that shit from me for so long.”
Smitty couldn’t help but laugh. It didn’t matter anyway. Not anymore.