Oh, okay. Johnny might be angling for Jack's approval and acknowledgement -- he might have been all too happy to demand the other man's attention the way he always has with people; Johnny's always been the life of the party, the one that shines bright like the sun, and he's more than happy to let people know it.
But then something like this catches him off guard; when Jack leans in and touches him, his skin warming as he remembered vividly just what trail Jack just took right up to his pectorals. Shit. He lets out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, caught entirely off guard by just how good Jack is at this, polished and every inch the one in control, and a part of Johnny wonders if it that wasn't true after all.
He's the one that's startled now, and perhaps Johnny had subconsciously sought for this, skirting that dangerous line because he wanted to. The question is, is he in over his head? Jack's full lips, so unexpectedly tempting, tantalising, is so close to his that he can feel the warmth of his breath, and for one shining moment, Johnny's seized by the intense, overwhelming urge to kiss him. He wants to taste him, to feel that mouth against his, but then the nug chooses that moment to bump up between them both, nosing Jack's chin affectionately.
Johnny's pulse is still racing all the same when he pulls away, a certain sort of disappointment underneath the rationalisations he makes to himself -- it probably was just a game of chicken to Jack, right? It'd be stupid if he kissed him, right? What if Johnny only just made it awkward and he hadn't really meant for it to? Jack might be gay, but it doesn't mean Jack's gay for him, either. Although in Johnny's not-so-humble opinion, he's never lacked in attention from his own gender either.
And so he hands the nug over, the fox hopping back into Johnny's shoulder with a pleased little chitter, large ears wiggling. Johnny's going to remember that touch for a long time. Struggling to get the wind back in his sails, Johnny doesn't move away from him, mustering a smile after swallowing hard. Shit, has Jack always been this stunning up close? The man's always been good-looking, but from this distance... holy shit. Johnny quips, hoping Jack hadn't seen his momentary, wide-eyed and gobsmacked lapse. ]
Aw, can't handle a little competition?
[ He wants to kiss him, and this little revelation keeps Johnny wrong-footed, for once uncertain of how to proceed. What are things like with dudes and dudes? He's never hooked up with one before; the ladies had always been at the center of his attention. But now, Jack is proving to be something of an exception to the rule. ]
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Oh, okay. Johnny might be angling for Jack's approval and acknowledgement -- he might have been all too happy to demand the other man's attention the way he always has with people; Johnny's always been the life of the party, the one that shines bright like the sun, and he's more than happy to let people know it.
But then something like this catches him off guard; when Jack leans in and touches him, his skin warming as he remembered vividly just what trail Jack just took right up to his pectorals. Shit. He lets out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, caught entirely off guard by just how good Jack is at this, polished and every inch the one in control, and a part of Johnny wonders if it that wasn't true after all.
He's the one that's startled now, and perhaps Johnny had subconsciously sought for this, skirting that dangerous line because he wanted to. The question is, is he in over his head? Jack's full lips, so unexpectedly tempting, tantalising, is so close to his that he can feel the warmth of his breath, and for one shining moment, Johnny's seized by the intense, overwhelming urge to kiss him. He wants to taste him, to feel that mouth against his, but then the nug chooses that moment to bump up between them both, nosing Jack's chin affectionately.
Johnny's pulse is still racing all the same when he pulls away, a certain sort of disappointment underneath the rationalisations he makes to himself -- it probably was just a game of chicken to Jack, right? It'd be stupid if he kissed him, right? What if Johnny only just made it awkward and he hadn't really meant for it to? Jack might be gay, but it doesn't mean Jack's gay for him, either. Although in Johnny's not-so-humble opinion, he's never lacked in attention from his own gender either.
And so he hands the nug over, the fox hopping back into Johnny's shoulder with a pleased little chitter, large ears wiggling. Johnny's going to remember that touch for a long time. Struggling to get the wind back in his sails, Johnny doesn't move away from him, mustering a smile after swallowing hard. Shit, has Jack always been this stunning up close? The man's always been good-looking, but from this distance... holy shit. Johnny quips, hoping Jack hadn't seen his momentary, wide-eyed and gobsmacked lapse. ]
Aw, can't handle a little competition?
[ He wants to kiss him, and this little revelation keeps Johnny wrong-footed, for once uncertain of how to proceed. What are things like with dudes and dudes? He's never hooked up with one before; the ladies had always been at the center of his attention. But now, Jack is proving to be something of an exception to the rule. ]