John, you big loser
Author: Aydin S.K.
Fandom: Constantine
Pairing: Chastine
Word count: 1512
Rating: PG-13
Summary: John has a craving, but the question is: will he yield?
Disclaimer: I own nothing, except the chocolate.

"Do not touch that," John snapped at Chas' reaching hand, his glare harsh as though he intended to hack it off if it inched in a direction other than back.

Seated at John's kitchen table in a research session, Chas looked up from the book he was reading and his gaze met John's angry stare who sat opposite him with a glass in one hand and the other resting on the cover of the book he just closed. John seemed particularly grumpy, seething even. Odd. He had his drinks and his cigarettes, what the hell could be wrong? Apart from everything.

It was a rare sight, the only time that Chas had ever seen such an unrestrained facial expression on Constantine's face was when he stormed into the man's apartment at 8 in the morning. John had rolled out of bed with his hangover when Chas suddenly stood near his bed to pointedly tell him he'd been waiting downstairs for 50 minutes already and threw him some clothes to put on.

"Geeze, what crawled up your ass today, John?" Chas finally asked and slowly withdrew his hand that had blindly reached out to the object on the table. "A good mood spoiled your melancholic day? Did the sunshine make you smile this morning? You'd tell me if that's your happy face, right?" Chas snickered, persistent to contribute to John's bad mood.

Chas grinned from ear to ear and John's glare intensified. Once there had been a time that that was enough to intimidate Chas but the more aggravated John got, the more Chas insisted on driving John up the wall. There was no point in trying to be accommodating since that never managed to do anything except piss John off, so Chas decided to skip the foreplay and grabbed the object that John specifically told him not to touch.

In that same instant, John leaped from his chair and basically flew over the table to snatch it out of Chas' hands. "Don't touch my chocolate bar," he flared while he sat down again and started to peel the wrapper off, nibbled it to demonstrate it was indeed his chocolate and he damn well liked it. He was clearly frustrated.

"Damn!" Taken aback, Chas pressed himself against the back of his chair. "What's wrong, John? I mean, stoic is as emotive as you get, but you nearly scratched my eyes out for touching your candy. Did you hear that, John, candy, and you're eating it."

"I don't give a fuck," he expressed and took another bite. He wouldn't admit it, but it was fairly delicious chocolate. "And I'm feeling just fine," John said but the tone in his voice and the glower proved the opposite.

"Whatever. Can I have the rest of your whiskey then?" he asked casually and pointed at John's glass.

John said something about Chas being fucking nuts in the midst of chewing on a generous piece of chocolate and watched as Chas' hand motioned to his drink. "Don't touch my glass," he flared and Chas' hand went away.

"Ok, fine, I'll have a smoke then," Chas shrugged, reaching for the pack of cigarettes on the table instead.

Rather disturbed by the display, John stopped munching his chocolate when his apprentice put a cigarette between his lips. "Chas," he mumbled. "You don't smoke."

"Like I care," he said and the cigarette fell from his lips but he managed to catch it when it bounced off his chest. He put it back between his lips and clumsily worked the heavy lighter, he lit the cancer stick and took a drag only to nearly choke on the nicotine that smothered his lungs.

"Here, have a drink," John said dryly and slid his glass of whiskey over to Chas. He looked for a moment at the wheezing Chas, a cigarette in one hand and a drink in the other. It looked like poison on the kid. Tormented by the sight of a seemingly deteriorating Chas who put the glass to his lips, Constantine frowned. There was something horribly wrong with that picture. He put the chocolate aside and leaned over the table to remove both from the kid's hands, putting it back on his side of the table.
Not wanting to waste the cigarette that Chas had lit, he took a big drag instead of putting it out. "Doesn't look good on you," he sneered.

Chas coughed. "Well, duh. Chocolate in your hands is like a cigarette in mine. You should've seen the appalled look on your face when I touched your cigarettes."

"Bullshit," John hit back and shifted in his seat. John Constantine does not look appalled, upset or anything patently expressive. 'It was probably annoyance.'
He peered at his candy and Chas in turn and then slid what was left of the chocolate over to his apprentice when the annoying little voice in the back of his head had told him that Constantine does not eat something as stupid as candy either. "Want some?" Outwardly he didn't seem to mind to share his chocolate, but it pained him when Chas eagerly accepted and nabbed at it.

"Wanna tell me what's on your mind?" Chas asked casually as he enjoyed the candy, pretending not to have noticed the brief glare or any of the other suggestive peeking.

'Yes.'

"No." John stared at the young man, taking a drag off his cigarette. It had started to bother him to constantly fight off the urge to grab what he longed after and it wasn't the chocolate. The chocolate was supposed to be soothing. 'You sound like a goddamn woman.' It hadn't been soothing at all because he sent the rest of it over to Chas and soon there would be nothing left of it. 'Nagging woman.'

Chas smirked at John's little slip up, now he had his hooks on the man. "So there is something on your mind, then?"

"No."

"Are you sure?" Chas insisted as the last piece of chocolate was about to disappear in his mouth.

'No.'

"Yeah. Stop nagging," John snarled while he reached over the table and snatched the piece of chocolate out of Chas' grip before he could eat it. "Give me that."

"Hey, you dickweed, give it back!" his apprentice exclaimed and got off his chair just when John ate it, smugly, at that. "That's not fair."

"I don't see why it should be," John snorted, letting the chocolate roll over his tongue.

Chas scowled and walked around the table to approach John who was still seated. "That's because you're mean."

"Sure."

"Feel free to stop treating me like an idiot, John," Chas pointed out and magically painted a grin on his face.

Somewhat uncomfortable with Chas standing next to his chair, he stared at the kid's shoes as though offended with the trespassing of his personal space that had a range of 'don't tempt me'. When the shoes hadn't walked away after glaring at them for 60 seconds, John looked up. "Why?"

"Why?" Chas let out, incensed at the thought that John saw no reason to stop treating him like a donkey. "Here's why: pass me the chocolate already," he said solemnly.

"I just ate the last piece, Chas," John frowned. "There's no more."

Chas sighed. "Do I have to spell everything out for you?" John could be so stupid sometimes. "It has 'Kiss me already, you big loser,' written all over it, John."

"No, it doesn't," Constantine said flatly after a moment, not looking away from his apprentice.

Chas wouldn't be Chas if he didn't argue. "Does too."

John looked away and put out his cigarette in the ashtray on the table. "Does not," he mumbled in response. He was not prepared to be tricked into kissing the kid, that would be stupid. But before John knew it, Chas had cupped his head in his hands and pressed his lips against his.
It was true that John had wanted to taste him, but it took him a minute before he relaxed under the touch and to allow Chas to force his tongue inside and return the fondling, the taste of chocolate still present on both sides.

After several minutes of bending over in a passionate kiss, Chas' back was killing him. He groaned and was ready to pull out of the kiss, but John didn't want to let go and touched Chas' leg with his hand, gently stroking it and invited him to sit down. Chas straddled the man as he sat down on John's lap, raking his hands through the black, soft hair while John's hands roamed his back and kept him close while they kissed.
Chas was in his arms now, pressed on his lips and grinding against him, making it impossible to hide his yearning when it basically poked Chas. John could trick the mind with his snide remarks all he wanted to, but his body didn't answer to sarcasm and denial.
Right now, there was only Chas. Screw the chocolate, though the taste was still there and not that bad at all.