Title: His Reason
Author: This Is Da Vinci Speaking
Fanfic Of: Scrubs
Rated: T (I'm not good with determining ratings)
Summary: J.D. overhears the Janitor and Elliot having a conversation, and chaos ensues.
Warnings: Slash.
Disclaimer: Oh, if I owned the Janitor…(grins)
Chapter Notes: I like this chapter a lot. It goes kinda fast and it's a little short...oh well.
His Reason
J.D. smiled as he woke up without opening his eyes. A thought—no, a memory—had just flown by in his head.
"I won't hurt you," the Janitor whispers quietly, lifting J.D.'s shirt over his head.
Nothing much had happened after that; all that really took place was an intense make-out session on the bed. But, nonetheless—
Suddenly the doctor awoke with a jolt as the realization hit him with the force of a freight train. He couldn't remember the Janitor leaving the apartment, which only meant one horrible, horrible thing….
J.D. looked over at the door and sighed with relief. "My God, you scared me," he muttered, sitting up.
The Janitor shrugged from his place in the doorway, holding a mug of coffee tightly in his fist. "Sorry. I slept on the couch." When J.D. frowned, he took a sip of the beverage and cleared his throat. "No one came back."
Dr. Dorian knew he was referring to Turk and Carla, and it was then he remembered that Turk was staying over at his brother's while he was back in town and Carla was out of town.
Jumpsuit suddenly froze on the spot, watching J.D. J.D., in turn, watched him.
"You were drunk, weren't you?"
He was, of course, talking about the fact that J.D. apparently wasn't suffering any kind of hangover. He bit his lip, knowing this was going to be a very awkward talk.
"I actually wasn't."
"So you…um…."
"It was all real."
The mug was still in mid-air, and J.D. thought he looked like a statue that had briefly come back to life only to be caught in the middle of his break. J.D. got out of bed and put on a large t-shirt that he only wore when no one was home.
The Janitor finally went over to the end table, setting the mug down and stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Scooter…."
"I'm sorry I lied," J.D. said as he left the room and went into the kitchen. "I was thinking about what you'd told me all day yesterday, and…I dunno. Stuff happened." He grinned as he poured himself a bowl of cereal. "I guess I was a little drunk last night, but the dare was completely—" he turned to be face-to-face with the Janitor, "—my…decision."
The Janitor was backing J.D. into the counter, and the shorter man was looking up at him, suddenly feeling much, much smaller with each inch he pressed into the edge. When they were nearly right up against each other, the Janitor stopped and rested his hands on the surface on either side of J.D. He was working his jaw, obviously wondering whether or not to punish the doctor….
"You made me vulnerable," he whispered. "Then you took advantage of me?"
Crap, Dorian thought. He's right.
"Riddle me this," the head custodian murmured, shifting his weight to his other foot. "Even though you duped me into making out with you, were those feelings real?"
A dog barked somewhere outside in the distance. Another dog barked back, and a bird flew idly past the window. J.D. examined the Janitor's face….
The next thing he knew he was fervently kissing him again, holding his face and everything. The Janitor lost it—more than likely forgot what he was reprimanding the doctor for—and grabbed him by the waist, lifting him onto the counter. J.D. violently pushed the bowl of dry cereal away and it clattered to the floor, but no one cared.
The Janitor climbed onto the counter, ducking so he wouldn't hit his head on the ceiling. He resumed where they left off, but after a few seconds J.D. slipped and they both went crashing to the ground.
If someone was sitting on the couch and watching this, they would've seen a pale hand reach up to grab something for support, then they would've seen another, darker hand reach up and pull it back down again, the fingers linking themselves together.