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Johnny was completely and irrevocably fucked. He had been at Hugh’s party for approximately twenty minutes, and was now being coerced to do things very against his strict rugby training agenda. First, even going to this party was a dumb fucking idea, but the lads had trapped him here, and tricked him into staying. Plus, he had been so focused on rugby, it was driving him close to a mental breakdown. He figured maybe it could get some stress off his chest. He was wrong.
After dropping the new girl at school, Shannon, home, he had headed straight to Hugh’s for “studying”. This studying involved a whole lot less books, and a whole lot more drinks, than he had originally envisioned.
He found himself worrying about Shannon, wondering if she was okay. He knew there was something off with her family, and he was scared of what exactly that was. She was a really nice girl. He ignores the turn in his stomach when he begins to realize that might be all he can see Shannon, or any other girl as. Fuck, he really needs another drink.
Walking towards the many types of drinks Hugh had either swiped from his parents, or bought with Feely's painfully fucking obvious fake ID. He was starting to think the reason the cashiers checked out to him wasn’t because of the ID, but because of Feely himself, in all his glory.
Speaking of Feely, he sees him up against some girl, from BCS maybe? Hugh is talking with Katie in hushed whispers in the corner, and Gibs is… nowhere to be found. Johnny ignores the almost primal pull to look for him, and drowns another glass of god knows what.
That was probably a bad idea, because while sober he finds his thoughts for Gibsie a thin line, while drunk, those lines become impossibly fuzzy. The thought makes his stomach turn, while he tries so goddamn hard to ignore more, dangerous, fuzzy thoughts of his best friend.
His best friend. Nothing else. Nothing else would ever be there.
The first time Johnny questioned his thoughts toward Gibsie, was when, after he had stayed at the Kavanaughs place for a few days (avoiding the Biggs, for some reason? A fight he had with Hugh probably, Johnny couldn’t really find it in him to care, not with everything on his plate). After Gibsie had reluctantly gone back to his house, or more likely, the Biggs house, Johnny felt himself feeling a longing to get him back. An entirely selfish, burning, embarrassing longing, that kept him up at night.
Johnny didn't know what to call this feeling, but he knew he had been feeling it for a long time. He also knew, it might not be what people regularly feel for their best mate.
He had always felt almost a pull to him, since his first day after moving to Cork. He had been miserable, being incredibly petty the whole of his first day, sticking his nose up at everyone he saw. Until he saw Gibsie. Then, he decided, upon looking into a wide eyed face, he might be able to bear being there for a little longer. The longer they were friends, the stronger this pull began to feel. Gibsie didn't seem to mind this pull, going along with it. They were JohnnyandGibsie, each other's favourites.
Once, he had been dared to kiss Gibsie in a stupid game of spin the bottle when they were both in third year. They had, maybe not reluctantly enough, and he still finds himself replaying the touch of their lips, if only for a second. Gibsie's lips tasted sort of sweet. Johnny knows this is probably a result of his best friends sweet tooth, but nonetheless, he attributed it to his personality.
Then usually, he rolls over, buries his face in his pillow, and tries to forget that heat he felt.
He sometimes replays times in the change room, looking a little too long at his best friend's stomach, admiring his abs. For no other reason than to get inspired for himself. Obviously.
He will remember after his first surgery, breaking down, in front of his best friend. His friend not judging him, and Johnny feeling so comfortable in his vulnerability. This remains true while he buries his face in Gibsie's neck, while Gibsie whispers affirmations to him and rubs his back.
When Gisbie pressed a small tender kiss to his forehead after he admitted he was scared. When Johnny tried to hide the way he felt his face heat up. When Johnny felt a swell in his chest he desperately tried to shove down, because he couldn't let himself feel it.
Gibsie made him feel warm, so fucking warm. Gibsie made him feel a way he didn’t think he could recall feeling before, and the idea of anyone finding this out was enough to stick Johnny in his feelings and leave him there for hours. That was enough to make his stomach lurch at the idea of... him feeling that way. Johnny never likes to think about the implications of his feelings much, really.
He needs to stop drinking. It makes him remember too much. Makes his face and heart and body and mind feel too hot.
Johnny suddenly feels suffocated by the amount of people in here, and the slow blush spreading across his face. He needs some air.
The first thing he notices is the man of the hour, and the man behind Johnny’s worst torment, Gerard Gibson.
He’s smoking a fucking cigarette. He’s smoking a cigarette and he looks beautiful. Johnny nearly stops in his tracks.
Gibsie is sitting on Hugh’s back porch, shirt tight, shoulders slumped, grey eyes off in the distance like he’s thinking really hard about something. He’s holding the cigarette between his two fingers, lazily in a way that makes Johnny feel something he can't describe.
He raises the cigarette to his lips, pressing them together and taking a deep breath before blowing a cloud of smoke into the cold night air. He looks strangely wistful and solemn for Gibsie, usually so full of energy. Part of Johnny is concerned for his friend, and the other part feels like he’s going to cry from the sight of how beautiful his best friend looks right now.
Johnny’s breath catches when Gibsie turns around and offers him a soft smile. Fuck his life. Gibsie is too sweet of a person, the living embodiment of some kind of warmth. Sure, part of it is his huge sense of humor and the smile he wears almost constantly, but Johnny feels as though a sense of comfort radiates from Gibsie.
“Hey there stranger.” Gibsie says with a small smirk.
“Hey, Gibs, um. What’re you doing out here lad? You’re missing all the um. Fun. Inside.” Johnny basically chokes out.
“What’s got you at a loss for words Johnny-Boy?”
“… Johnny-Boy?”
“Sorry Cap, just trying something new. Come sit!” Gibsie beckons him over, patting the deck next to him. “I’ve been missing ya you know?” He smiles lazily, clearly at least a little tipsy.
Gibsie has been missing him. The thought makes his stomach do a couple flips. “Missed ya too Gibs. I needed some fuckin fresh air. Feely’s in there manwhoring with some poor girl, and Hugh’s shitfaced arguing with his girlfriend. These parties are bloody suffocating, I'll tell you that.”
“Usually, I would be the life of the party, but tonight I’m inclined to agree with you.”
“Really? What’s up?”
Gibsie lets out a small laugh. “I dunno… got drunk… started thinking too hard… everything feels fuzzy… I should drink more to get to regular drunk Gibsie, but I don’t really fuckin wanna”
Oh. “Serious tonight, are we Gibs?”
“Mhm. At least, as serious as I’ve ever been.”
“Even more serious than that time we made that bet with my mam to go on a joyride in the new car?”
“Yup. Even that. In the mood to break some records tonight babe.”
This was incredibly fucking dangerous territory for Johnny. The both of them tipsy, Johnny feeling like he is now, and Gibsie’s weird behaviour was a recipe for some type of catastrophic mistake. Problem is, Johnny couldn’t find it in himself to care.
“Ya want a drag?” Gibsie said with a small smirk on his face, knowing damn well Johnny would never smoke right now.
It was at that moment he realized he had been staring directly at Gibsie’s lips, where he had been taking drags of his cigarette.
“No, God, Fuck no Gibs. I have the academy to worry about here.”
“Jesus, loosen up a bit would ya? I was just asking since you were looking at my cig like ya wanted to fuck it or somethin’.” He says, voice slowly trailing off.
Well, that certainly opened Johnny’s eyes. The prospect of swapping spit with his best friend was sounding more and more tempting, so he does what he thinks is best to mitigate it.
That's how he ended up here, being coerced into sharing a fucking cigarette. To be fair, it probably has more to do with who’s holding said cigarette.
This sort of feels like the most intimate thing he’s ever done.
Gibsie passes him the cigarette, and their hands brush. Johnny feels sparks. He fights the urge to intertwine their hands. Johnny puts the cigarette to his lips and inhales and tries to get a taste of Gibsie. All he tastes is smoke.
As he passes it back to him, Johnny’s fingers linger on Gibsie’s for a bit longer.
“Hey lad?” Gibsie says, looking nervous.
“Yeah?”
“Um. That new um Shannon girl. She seems nice. Are you guys like, um, a thing now? I’m just curious.”
Oh. Why is Gisbie asking him this? The way he asked it almost made him think… no. That would never be it.
“Oh Shan? No we’re not a thing. I don’t even think she likes me like that really, I’m just making sure she’s able to settle into school well. She deserves it.” Johnny chokes out, trying not to think about the implications of what he’s just been asked.
“Do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Like her… like that?”
“No, not really. I don’t know why. She’s a nice girl, I just don't feel that way about her.”
“Really?”
“Yeah Gibs, really. You jealous or something?” He adds with a small laugh, meaning it as a joke and ignoring how his voice cracks.
“No. Fuck um no. I was just curious.”
That is very, very, unlike Gibsie. In the past, they had always made jokes like this with each other. Johnny would usually be the one to stop things, but Gibsie would always joke around, acting like he was Johnny's betrothed wife.
Now, Johnny doesn’t know what to think.
“Jesus Gibs, I was just kidding. It’s not like you have room to react like that anyway, what with you and Claire.”
His stomach turns at the thought of Gibsie's very, very, obvious feelings for Claire.
“Fuck you mean, me and Claire?” Gibsie snaps back.
“Well she and you, you guys are like, you know.”
“No. We’re not. I love her but, no. Don’t start this with me Johnny.”
“I’m not starting anything.” Johnny adds with a snarl, “you’re the fuckin one who started it, getting all defensive over a fuckin joke. A joke? you know those, you’re practically a fuckin comedian.”
Gibsie looks hurt, and Johnny knows he’s fucked up.
“Hey? What the fuck? It’s 2am.. who the hell is this?”
“Hi.. Johnny.. um long time no see? No other late night visitors?”
Despite his signature Gibsie smile plastered across his face, Johnny knew something was up.
“Asshole! Get in! Jesus you’re gonna fall.”
Gibsie climbs in through the window with Johnny's help, pausing to look at him with their faces just inches from each other.
“Okay. Um. So. Are you good lad?”
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
“Okay.. So.. you wanna go to bed? I’m tired.”
“Are you asking to sleep with me Johnathan?”
“Shut the fuck up or I'll throw you back out.”
“Okay, okay, shutting up.”
They slept the rest of the night together, slowly moving closer and closer throughout the night, to the point where their limbs were tangled and Gibsie’s face was buried in Johnny’s neck.
When they woke up, they joked about it and never talked about it again.
“Gibs, wait, I'm sorry. I’m drunk, I don't know what I'm saying.”
“Seems like you know exactly what you’re saying.”
Gibsie drops the cigarette and puts it out with his foot. Johnny’s stomach drops.
After a particularly rough game of rugby, (for the rest of the team, not Johnny, because nothing could ever be rough for him), Johnny and Gibsie are together in the back of the change room talking.
“Is everything good with your ma?”
“Of fuckin course, she’s being annoying as always but, she’s my mam, like always. Why.”
Just as Johnny’s about to ask if he’s sure, he notices a cut on Gibs’ arm.
“Fuck, um, Gibs, don’t look down okay.”
“Why? What the fuck is wrong?”
“Just. Don’t.”
“Fuck no, Johnny, am I bleeding? You know I don’t do blood. You fucking know that.” Gibsie’s breaths are coming harder and faster now.
“Yeah Gibs I know, don’t worry.”
“I can’t look at it or i’ll fucking pass out.”
“I know. So don’t. I’ve got you.. just um go sit down.” Johnny says, guiding him onto a bench.
“Fuck, Johhny, I…”
“Gibsie. I've got you. I promise. Can you breathe for me?”
Gibsie tries to steady his breath as Johnny grabs a cloth and starts cleaning his cut. It’s actually a lot deeper than he thought it would be, he doesn’t know how his best friend didn’t notice. It’s not like he’s about to tell Gibsie that though.
“Hey, it’s okay, I’ve got you. Johnny repeats to Gibsie like a mantra as he cleans his arm with slow, delicate movements. Something about this feels weirdly intimate, but he’ll unpack that later. He’s just helping his friend.”
He bandages him up and afterwards, they’re just sitting there in a sort of charged silence.
“Johnny… I’m sorry for um, like, crying like a little bitch. I don’t even… know what happened, I just, me and, blood. Um. Yeah, I'm sorry, this is embarrassing." He says with a weak laugh.
“Hey, It’s okay, no need to be embarrassed. I’ve got you Gibs. I’ve grown quite fond of you, idiot.” And with that, he presses a small kiss onto Gibsie’s forehead. Just like he did for him after his surgery. It doesn’t have to be weird. Unless they make it into something it’s not.
He watches as Gibsie is walking away, and has to hold back tears. Fuck, what is wrong with him in the head?
“Gibsie! Wait. Please, wait. I’m a dick. I’m sorry.” He says, on his feet, trailing after his best friend.
“Yeah, you kind of are, dick. I’m just… I’m sorry this isn’t your problem.” Gibsie huffs out.
“What isn’t my problem?”
“Nothing.” He says, looking away, a slight trace of… something on his features. "Forget about it Cap, okay?"
“So, Cap, what’s on the agenda today?” Gibsie asks, sprawling himself on Johnny’s bed.
“The agenda is that you just strolled into my house. What if I had plans?”
“Well, do you have plans?” Gibsie says, shooting him a grin.
“Yeah. Training.”
This gets a groan from Gibsie as he lays himself across Johnny’s chest. “Hm.. so… no plans?”
“Fuck off.”
“Johnathan, I’m beginning to think you need to loosen up a little.”
“Gerard, I do not need to loosen up.”
“How about… a massage?” He says, winking playfully.
Johnny rolls his eyes. “Sure, lad, sure.”
“Mhm, I mean it! You must be so tense from all that rugby.”
Johnny feels his chest heat up at the fact he’s even considering it.
“What the hell.”
“Yay! Okay!” Gibsie claps his hands together and goes behind Johnny’s back, so he is actively sitting between Gibsie’s legs. He tries not to think about that too much.
Gibsie actually gives him a pretty good back massage, while Johnny is going out of his mind trying not to blush as his best friend breathes hot air onto his neck.
“Thanks… Gibs… you aren’t a bad masseuse you know?”
“I do know, it’s a part of my charm Johnny.”
Johnny feels inclined to agree and has to stop himself from kissing Gibsie’s forehead. He feels like he has to stop himself from doing that a lot lately.
“Gibsie, I’m sorry, I’m drunk, I’m tired, my head is messed up. Can we just be us? Please?”
Gibsie pauses for a second. “Yeah, me too, Johnny. Beg why don’t you? Kidding. Let's be us.”
“Oh thank god, I don’t know what I would do without you to annoy me all the time.”
“Hey! I just forgave you!” Gibsie says, a smile on his face.
It’s a low evening after practice when he finds Gibsie crying in the locker room.
“Gibs? You okay?”
Upon hearing Johnny’s voice, Gibsie’s mask snaps back into place. He sniffles, quickly trying to gain his composure.
“Hey, what’s up?”
Gibsie just shakes his head. “This is embarrassing, I’m sorry.”
“Nope. It’s not. You’re fine.”
Johnny sits down next to him and Gibsie rests his head on his shoulder.
They sit like that for a while, until Johnny presses a kiss into Gibsie’s forehead.
They don’t have to make it weird.
After officially ending whatever the fuck that was, Johnny and Gibsie find themselves leaning against Hugh's back garden fence. Just the two of them, as per usual.
They’re talking, about nothing in particular, like always.
After a while, they grow a bit silent. It’s a comfortable silence, but there still feels like there is a tension, an electric buzzing between them.
“Johnny.”
“Yeah Gibs?” He says, turning to face his friend, whose face is slightly flushed. God, he looks beautiful.
“I’m tired. And drunk. I don’t think my mind is working right. I feel like I'm going to do something stupid.” Gibsie’s eyes are locked on Johnny’s, but for a split second, Johnny swears he sees him glance at his lips.
"Aren't you always?"
"Fuck off." Gibsie says, grinning lazily.
“But um. Yeah. Me either, actually.” he feels a humming sensation run through him, almost as if he’s flushed all over. All of a sudden, he doesn’t trust himself to make a completely irreversible mistake.
Gibsie leans in, then falters. He pulls back ever so slightly. “Hey, Johnny..” he mumbles, his voice barely audible, but Johnny is close enough to feel the heat on his face. “Have you ever kissed a guy?”
This takes Johnny aback, sending a weirdly pleasant chill through his whole body. Seriously. What the fuck is wrong with him.
“No. Or, well, there was the time where um, spin the bottle, um but, yeah.”
“Oh? Spin the bottle with who?”
“You know who, jackass.”
It’s now when Johnny realizes he has been unconsciously leaning closer to Gibsie, and he is less than an inch away from his face.
“What if… I said… I didn’t regret that game of spin the bottle. It fucked my life up royally, but, it made me…” Gibsie trails off mumbling way too close to Johnny’s lips.
“Gibs, stop playing around.” He whispers.
“What if I'm not?”
Johnny flushes, feeling his breaths come faster. “Oh, then, okay.”
And with that Gibsie leans into Johnny’s lips, brushes against them, it sort of tickles. A warm, fuzzy, yet exhilarating feeling runs through him. And just as Johnny feels like he might be ascending to the heavens, Gibsie pulls back, panic in his eyes.
“Fuck, I’m sorry, Johnny, I..”
Johnny takes Gibsie’s jaw in his hand, and Gibsie trails off, looking up at him, it makes Johnny feel sick, seeing those eyes look that way, open, and almost begging. It makes him ragged with need for the boy in front of him.
Slowly, but surely Johnny leans in, tilting his head, savouring the moment as much as he can because everything in him is telling him to kiss his best friend as soon as possible. He presses his lips onto Gibsie’s, feeling his lower lip drag a little while Gibsie moves nervously before melting into the kiss.
The way he feels can only be described as going over a cliff. Delicious relief, God, Gibsie’s lips feel so good against his. He has never felt this much. He’s also scared, his blood rushes through his veins, and he feels like he’s going to cry, throw up, blush harder than he already is, come, or maybe just combust from pure emotion.
Gibsie’s lips are soft, softer than anything he’s felt. He could kiss Gibsie’s lips forever. His breath smells like beer, cigarette smoke, and just so utterly Gibsie, that he realizes he’s been subconsciously dreaming about what his best friend would taste like.
Suddenly, Gibsie pulls back, and Johnny feels such a need to get their lips back together he almost cries.
“Fuck, Johnny. Not here.”
Fuck, he definetly forgot they were in public. All of a sudden, his heart beats fast for all the wrong reasons and he whips his head around, terrified.
“Hey, don’t worry, I don’t think anyone saw.”
“Okay.”
“Want um, to get out of here?”
“Oh fuck yeah,”
So, they wound up upstairs in Hugh’s house, door locked, and barricaded with a large dresser and a door jam, just for good measure.
As soon as Johnny finished rearranging Hugh’s room, he sighed and sat down next to Gibsie.
“Do you reckon we should have just gone to one of ours?” Johnny breathes out.
“Yeah. But um. I didn’t really wanna wait.”
“Oh?” Johnny asks, smirking.
“Mhm… but… we don’t have to, do this, be like this, if you don’t want. I know it’s weird, and I know, we shouldn’t, I swear, I’m not a creep, I didn’t even think I was you know, um, or not really at least? So, I’m really sor-”
Johnny presses his lips to Gibsie’s again, cutting him off. He feels a swell in his chest at this, and he puts his hand on the back of Gibsie’s neck. Gibsie leans deeper into the kiss. Johnny feels like this has been a long time coming.
Soon, their hands are in each other's hair, and in an unsure sort of manner, Gibsie slides his tongue into Johnny’s lips, and Johnny feels like he might die on the spot.
They slowly become more intertwined, then Johnny slowly pushes Gibsie down onto the bed. They keep kissing, hands wandering more on one another now.
Finally, Johnny breaks the kiss enough to talk. “Gibs….”
“Fuck, Johnny, I, I really, I…”
Johnny, still panting ever so slightly, locks eyes on Gibsie. “What?” He asks, softly.
“I’ve never really… felt the way I do about someone like how I feel about you? I just, I don’t want you to think I think of this as an experiment or anything.” His best friend says, avoiding eye contact.
Johnny’s heart pounds in his chest. He never in a million years thought that something like this would happen, even though he’s been secretly yearning for it for all this time now. “Me too, Gibs.”
Then, he brushes his lips against Gibsie’s, feeling his body course with electricity. He pulls away after a second, and presses a kiss to his forehead. He trails his eyes over Gibsie’s face, wide eyed, flushed, and looking at Johnny like he has the keys to his sanity. Johnny once more, presses his lips to Gibsie’s, and he can feel him smile against his lips. Of course he is.
They stay like that for a while, kissing, talking, and enjoying each other's presence. For once, Johnny doesn’t want to rush into sex like he usually does. Wonder if that means something?
“Hey! What the hell? Who’s fucking in my bedroom? And Jesus, what did you put in front of the door?” Hugh’s voice calls from the other side of the door, sounding thoroughly pissed off.
Johnny rolls onto his back with a groan, while Gibsie erupts into a fit of giggles.
“I knew we should have just gone back to mine.” Johnny says, rolling his eyes.
“Mhm, yeah.” Gisbie says, still grinning like an idiot as he turns over to face Johnny. “So, would you like to share another cigarette some time? Or you can just taste it off my lips if you like.”
“Shut up.” Johnny mumbles, bringing his lips to kiss Gibsie once more.
“Jesus! Will whoever you are leave already! The party’s over assholes!” A voice thundered from the other side of the door.
“Oops.” Gibsie giggles against Johnny’s lips.
