but we can love...

WHY THE FUCK DO PEOPLE EAT ICE

Crunchy

He can’t suck on Bobby’s skin now, but John’s just fine with that, loves when Bobby gets possessive and tips his head back to make it easier, licking swollen lips. ‘I wanna feel you,’ he murmurs, splaying his hands against Bobby’s stomach, his shirt hitches up on John’s wrist.

“Oh, you’ll definitely feel me,” Bobby murmurs, shifting down to try and find John’s collarbone, tugging the neckline of his shirt out of the way so he can leave a hickey there, too.

John groans into his neck again, almost a whine, and grips Bobby by the waist to hitch up at the same time. ‘Love you too,’ he mumbles, mouthing at the bruise he left before. 'God, do I love you.’

Bobby moans and starts working a hickey of his own into the side of John’s neck, right under his jaw -- there’ll be no hiding it.  “Tell me how you want it?”

‘Me too,’ John replies, breathless and beaming. 'Wanna ditch?’

“Totally,” Bobby agrees.  “I -- wanna go back to our room.  Want you all to myself.”

It’s sort of unusual for him, being treated so gently, but leave it to Bobby to be the first. John hardly minds though, sinks into it and tries to be just as soft, to handle Bobby as sweetly as he loves him.

When Bobby finally comes up for air, he only pulls back far enough to tip their foreheads together again.  “I -- I’m really glad we came to this party,” he says.

John’s happy to return it this time, buries his hands in Bobby’s hair and sighs happily.

Bobby pulls John as close as he can, but this time, it’s gentle, it’s slow -- everything the desperate first few kisses should have been.  

‘Oh my /god/, you’re /horrible/,’ he groans, pressing his nose and then his smile against Bobby’s cheek in return, hands sliding up his jeans to find the hem again and nipping at his jaw. 'I love it.’

“Good, ‘cause I love you,” Bobby says, rolling his hips down.  “And I want to make you feel good.”

It only takes a moment to think about it for John to shudder, mouth dropped open and his hands fisting in Bobby’s sleeves. ’/Jesus/, Bobby.’

Bobby smirks a little and nuzzles John’s cheek.  “Of course, I don’t think that’d exactly be romantic,” he teases.  “So, next time, if you’re into it?”

‘Better than okay,’ he chances, smile a little disbelieving, but brighter than ever. 'Isn’t it?’

“So much better than okay,” Bobby says, and pulls John in for another kiss.  Part of him wants to literally cry from how happy he is right now.

Laughter bubbles up, it’s relieved and absolutely ridiculous, but so is their confession, and John figures just maybe it’s alright if he tells the truth. ‘God, Bobby. I love you so much.’

Bobby starts beaming, because while it’s still the last thing he’d ever expected to hear form John, at least like this, it feels good, it feels right.  “I love you too,” he says, even though he’s just said it.  “I can’t believe I can say that to you, and it’s okay.  We’re still okay.”  The sky hasn’t fallen, because John loves him back.

John’s grin wavers when he bits his lip and groans, pressing down into Bobby’s hips and grinding. ‘You can /try/.’

“Fuck,” Bobby gasps, but he takes the challenge, hands on John’s hips as he flips them over again, pinning John to the bed this time.  “Gonna have to tie you to the bed or something sometime.”

‘Yeah,’ he exhales, nodding, then again, hopefully. 'Yeah?’

Bobby nods emphatically.  “Yeah.”

’/Fuck/,’ he replies again, barely audible, and pulls Bobby close enough to press their foreheads together. ‘Shit. I was really hoping for that one.’

“Yeah?” Bobby asks, still breathless, his heart rabbitting in his chest.  “Good.”

John kicks his shoes off somewhere into the depths of their room before rolling them over, happy to kiss back once he’s planted in Bobby’s lap and looming over him, leaning on his forearm with one hand just beneath the hem of Bobby’s shirt.

Bobby grins and rolls his hips upward into John’s.  “I thought I was supposed to be taking the lead here.”

‘I really need to hear it, Bobby,’ he forces out in an exhale, finally making eye contact in spite of how raw he feels.

Bobby takes a deep breath.  “I’m in love with you,” he says, swallowing.  “Really, really in love with you.”

John huffs, smiling fondly and shaking his head before he lands back first on the comforter, tugging Bobby down along with him. ‘You are so lucky you got me wrapped around your finger.’

“Yeah, I am,” Bobby says, leaning down and kissing him again, one hand landing in John’s hair.

‘You, ah, wanna tell me why?’ John swallows too hard, throat tight, hands still planted on Bobby’s jaw and neck and hating gnawing at lip but doing it anyway.

Bobby flushed.  “I -- isn’t it obvious?”  He’s utterly in love with John, but he doesn’t think he can say that.  He leans into John’s touch instead.