#julina

“Little bit of both.” Julian adjusts, cradling his chin in his hands as he stretches out across Spina’s bed. His bare feet knock against Spina’s wall, creating a dull sort of drumbeat that grates against the other boy’s nerves. Julian has a special talent for being obnoxious when he’s not even trying; when he is, he could drive anyone to desperation. 

It takes Spina all of five seconds to decide he’s reached that point. “I’ll give you five dollars if you go away,” he says. Julian’s expression is unimpressed. “Ten. Fifteen. A bagel.”His friend stretches across the bed like a spoiled cat, a crooked smirk tugging at his lips. “Wow, you really want to get rid of me.”“With cream cheese?”Julian’s brows furrow, contemplative. “Am  I really that bad?”Spina slams his head against his open textbook.

It’s not that Julian is that annoying, really. Spina just doesn’t have the patience for him. He’s got a lot on his plate right now; his upcoming exams, for one thing. Plus, the local bakery he works at hasn’t been seeing as many customers lately, so they’re talking about letting some people go. He’s almost out of toothpaste, and is wearing his last clean shirt.

Oh, also, he’s pretty sure he’s having a sexuality crisis too.

It’s all Babe’s fault. Stupid Babe, with his inability to back down from a challenge, and those hungry, luscious lips. They’ve ensnared Spina’s mind since the moment his friend’s mouth pressed against his. All the heat, all the fire that could be put into a kiss was in that kiss. The worst part is, he’s pretty sure Babe wasn’t even trying.

Spina’s never been attracted to another man before, but now he finds himself questioning everything he thought he knew about his own sexuality, and it’s all Babe Heffron’s fault.

So, instead of answering Julian, he just glares at him. He’s willing to deal with a lot of stuff, but listening to his friend whine about being kissed by the very person Spina can’t stop thinking about isn’t one of them.

All amusement slips off Julian’s face; he gouges Spina’s sour expression for a moment before pouting. “Ahh, come on. I’m sorry, okay? I just – it was freakin’ weird.”

Spina gives a dry laugh. “Yeah. No kidding.”

“He just kissed me.” Julian runs a hand over his mouth, frowning at the posters lining Spina’s bedroom wall. “And I liked it. What does that mean?”

Spina takes a deep breath, wondering why he’s the one who has to explain this concept. Julian’s a big boy. Can’t he figure this out on his own? “Well, Jules, some people like men, and some like women –”

Julian aims a slap at his shoulder. Spina takes the blow without flinching, and carries on as his friend snatches the pillow off of his bed. “And some like both, and some like neither, some like everybody all at once, and all of this is part of a great big spectrum we like to call sexuali–”

He’s cut off by being unceremoniously smothered. Julian throws the full force of his weight on top of him, which isn’t that much at all, but Spina goes down anyway. He lets out a grunt, wrapping his arms around his friend’s torso and rolling over so Julian is on top of him, in power but immobilized. The pillow over his face falls to the wayside. Now Julian is the one squirming, writhing against Spina’s iron grip, but he isn’t giving up that easily.

“Hold still – scrawny –”

“Who you calling scrawny?”

He puts up a good fight, but it’s over not long after it began. With one final grunt, Julian goes limp; it’s obvious he’s not getting away any time soon, and Spina isn’t about to let him go. If the brat thinks he can put a pillow over his head, he deserved what he gets.

That’s the moment Spina realizes how very, very close he and Julian are.

Their bodies are pressed up against each other, not an inch of space between their solid forms. Julian’s skin is pale as ever, contrasting the chewed redness of his lips, and it makes Spina feel a little dizzy. He can see nothing but Julian’s face, filling his vision from sheer proximity. Julian’s heart beats steady and strong against his own chest.

Their gazes meet, and Spina knows Julian’s realized it too. They’re both thinking the same thing.

“You wanna figure this out together?” Julian mutters, breath hot against Spina’s lips. He stares at him with wide, black eyes; Spina can count each eyelash, each dark freckle, and swallows hard.

“You sure this won’t make everything more confusing than it already is?”

“No,” Julian replies. “It definitely will.”

So, since Spina’s got nothing left to lost, he leans up and kisses him.

It’s a little startling how quickly Julian melts into him. He had fight once, Spina supposes, but it’s all been drained away. Now he’s willing, eager, and his lips make it as obvious as his body. He gives himself up to the kiss, pressing against Spina’s mouth with inquisitive force. Only when a hand comes up to cup his stubbled jaw does Spina realize that, oh god, this is really happening.

Things have just gotten ten times more complicated, and he doubts this is going to give him any answers. All he knows is that he’s enjoying this. Maybe he’s gay; or maybe he just really likes kissing his friends.

Whatever it is, it is. Spina brushes aside his concerns and presses harder against Julian’s lips.

“This is weird,” is the first thing out of Babe’s mouth.

“I don’t care what you think. I don’t care if you think this is weird. You kissed my girl, you gotta do this one thing for me.”

“Bill, it was a da--” Babe starts, but Bill cuts him off. He’s heard this excuse enough times that Babe knows it won’t make a difference, but he may as well try anyway.

“I don’t give a fuck what it was. I walked in to find you with your filthy lips on Frannie.”

To be fair, Bill hadn’t walked in at that moment. He walked in just after, following the kiss and Babe’s affirmation that Fran was a much better kisser than his ex-girlfriend. Babe doesn’t want anything to do with Bill’s girl; he’s gay, for god’s sake. 

That doesn’t mean he wants Bill’s lips anywhere near him either.

“You actually think this will do anything?” he huffs as Bill adjusts himself on the couch in front of him. His friend looks unimpressed by his skepticism.

“My Nonna was a damn smart woman, and she always talked about kisses like they were something sacred. She used to say they have power. Frankly, I’m inclined to believe her, and I don’t want whatever power Frannie’s kiss has to be in your undeserving hands.”

“She does pack a hell of a punch,” Babe says without thinking, and promptly regrets it when death flashes in Bill’s eyes.

“So do I.”

Babe tries to scoot back, but Bill’s hands on his arms stop him. He’s not getting out of this easily. Like anything involving Bill’s legendary stubborn streak, the best thing for all parties would be if he just submitted. Just “give” the damn kiss back, and be done with it. He can bleach his lips later, but it’s either play along with Bill or fight him. If he’s going to set up a date with the cute doctor from the hospital, he doesn’t want to be sporting a black eye for it.

“Dammit,” he mutters, and stops trying to pull away. “Alright. Fine. Do whatever you gotta do.”

“Thank you,” Bill retorts, rolling his eyes. He moves even closer. Babe feels a spike of anxiety leap into his throat, and fights to swallow it down. He doesn’t want to back out at the last moment, because god knows Bill wouldn’t ever let him live that down. He remains still, not even daring to breathe, as his best friend leans closer.

Suddenly Bill pauses, planting a hand on Babe’s chest. Babe is a little annoyed that he’s dragging this out even longer, but is taken aback by the serious look in Bill’s eyes. 

“So we’re clear, this,” says Bill, “is not romantic. At all.”

Babe rolls his eyes. “Yeah, no shit.”

And then, they kiss.

It’s... not as bad as Babe was anticipating. At first, Bill takes it slow, like he’s trying to drag every inch of Fran’s intangible kiss from Babe’s lips through willpower alone. Then he gets deeper; he gets more forceful; and his hands find Babe’s face. There’s the Bill Guarnere Babe knows, the one that always leaves him afraid he’ll leave his partner with a lot less face than they started with.

What’s worse, Babe is kissing back. He doesn’t know why, he knows he shouldn’t be -- he should be a lot more freaked out by this than he is, to be honest -- but he’s kissing his best friend back. It’s impossible not to get sucked in. Fran was a good kisser, but Bill’s even better -- and the worst part is, Bill is the gender Babe could see himself falling for.

(Not that he’d ever fall for his best friend. That’d be like falling in love with his brother... is kissing Bill like kissing his brother? Oh god.)

By the time Babe’s hands find Bill’s shoulders, it’s more to anchor himself than anything else. Bill is still kissing him, however, and it’s almost easy for Babe to forget who he’s lip-locked with. Before he can stop himself, a moan escapes his throat...

That’s when they break apart.

Bill is wide eyed, seeming startled. Babe can’t look any better, because he certainly feels like he wants to curl up in a ball and hide for a few years. He can’t believe he just did that while kissing his best friend.

Instead, he gathers up all the dignity he can, and pulls himself to his feet. “This,” he announces, “never happened.”

He waits for Bill to nod his head before walking away, ignoring the way his lips feel like they’re burning more with each second.