A/N: This is like, the fourth chapter of something I've updated in one night. I'm being ridiculous. Oh well, enjoy more WillJohnny. This one ties in a bit with the third chapter of "The Solution".

People tend to think I'm an idiot, but I know I'm far from stupid. I just keep my mouth shut most of the time, because things are easier when people think you're stupid. Teachers don't call on you in class, your parents don't bitch too much about your grades, and your friends don't notice when you're being manipulative.

This made it incredibly easy to get Johnny to kiss me. Once I'd accepted that I had a thing for him, I started plotting. I like to think I can't be blamed, because it's not like I could just kiss him, and even if I did it's not like I could keep things from getting fucked up between us. I had to be smart about it if I ever wanted the chance.

So I waited until the opportunity arose. It didn't take very long, I just had to wait until we ended up tipsy at a party, sitting in a circle with Heather and a few of her friends. And when you've been to enough parties with drunk girls, you know exactly how a dare is going to play out. You're going to suggest they kiss, and they're going to say they will if you will. Which is how we got to me pleading with Johnny.

"Hey, come on, it's Heather, Johnny. You're my best friend and you're going to keep me from seeing Heather kiss a girl?" I protested, and Johnny hazily stared back on me before nodding firmly, jaw set.

"I'm your wingman," Johnny affirmed, still looking incredibly proud of himself for being a good friend.

I didn't factor in just how weird it was to have people watching you kiss someone. Kissing Johnny wasn't exactly what I thought it would be, with him barely reacting and with a group of tittering girls right next to us. Even then, it was exciting as hell, but it wasn't what I wanted it to be.

About an hour later, I was sitting on the top of the staircase, far drunker than earlier and not exactly trusting myself to walk down the stairs. I was surprised when Johnny came barreling up the stairs, tripping himself a few times and laughing when he stumbled.

"Will! What are you doing up here? Heather's downstairs," he slurred, lowering himself onto the step below me and half-collapsing against my legs.

"Ah, I can't act too interested, right? Girls don't like that," I responded, trying to keep from smiling too hard when Johnny started lolling his head from side to side.

"But I'm your wingman, I'm supposed to get you some. Hah, wait, I gave you some, I didn't get you some," he rambled on, his mind making drunken leaps I couldn't follow.

"What the hell are you even saying?" I asked, an eyebrow raised as I leaned in to stop him from shaking his head.

"We kissed. That's you getting some. Just…a weird kind," he answered, beaming and sure of himself.

"Doesn't really count, though, it doesn't count if it's a dare," I explained.

"Well, we might as well make it count," he shrugged before he closed the distance between us and clumsily shoved his tongue into my mouth for the second time that night. And this time, it was the way I wanted it to be. We stayed on the top of the steps kissing like that for about a minute or so before he moved back to his step.

"There. Still the very best wingman," he declared before pulling himself back to a standing position using the handrail.

"Yeah, that's…You're the best wingman," I managed to say, still watching him.

Of course, with my luck, the next morning he remembered that he was the greatest wingman that ever lived, he just never remembered why.