Dave untucked his shirt and swiped a sleeve across his mouth, covered in bread crumbs. His sandy blonde hair whipped to one side in the breeze and tangled in the bends of his shades. John relaxed on his end of the checkered, red and white blanket, giggling at the mess Dave was becoming the more he ate.
"Hey, shut up over there, Egbert. I happen to look even more epic and kickass, thanks for noticing," Dave began to ramble as he glared at John, an orange soda resting in his left hand.
John snickered a minute longer, and then crawled to sit beside Dave with a blush. He eyed John suspiciously, but pretended not to notice. John kicked back again, and grappled for Dave's drink.
"Hey! What the hell man, I thought you were chill!" Dave said, his voice occasionally (and embarrassingly) cracking as he hit the high notes and wrestled away. John went on, laughing like he'd never be able to stop, and tackled Dave boisterously. The fizzy pop snapped as he wriggled beneath John, and spilled over his lengthy red t-shirt.
"Hey," Dave said, cutting the comedy, "I don't have anything to clean that with. Get up and hand me a napkin."
John looked down at Dave with a devilish look. "I don't think so. You're going to have to grin and bare it. Besides, you're much too comfy for me to move now, bro!"
"Don't call me that! Now for the ever-loving fuck, get OFF!"
"Hehehe, no way!"
"John, I'm going to murder you."
"What're you going to kill me with? Your mighty fists of fury?"
"No. Something way more painful, dude."
"Like-?"
"Love."
John gasped and blinked his eyes to the size of saucers. Most of his expression was pure sarcasm, but a tiny sliver was pleasant shock. What was coming over Dave? He normally wasn't any kind of romantic, if only in the bedroom.
"I don't think you understa-" John was cut off by a quick, violent surprise attack: Dave's lips catching and digging into his own. Their tongues intertwined hurriedly there on the thin, plastic cover, each growing erect and pressing into the other's inner thigh. Dave assumed the air of power, digging his nails into the soft, sky blue fabric hanging over John's shoulders. Dave wrapped his legs around John's calves and curled against his partner's body.
With a jerk and gulp from John, Dave swung him underneath and firmly rested on John's belly.
"Now who has the upperhand, prankster?" Dave chuckled. His glasses had been thrown from his face in the process, and left amber eyes unveiled. John ignored his comment and stared into them, content to wander through the sea of crimson.
Dave, realizing the change in attitude, blushed deeper than his favorite color and ducked.
"Shit, shit, shit," he grumbled, his nose and face pressed into John's chest. John chortled and tightened his arms around Dave's back.
"Don't worry," he said, "I'm the only one who saw."
Dave tugged against John's collar, and crawled across his body. He laid his head in the crook of John's neck, resting. He relaxed, and felt his heart melt deep within his core. Of course no one else could have known that, and no one else would. But John…he understood, and Dave was safe here. He was in a haven, a place to be alone.
Alone, that is, with John.