Monday:
Ororo looked at the recycling crates of empty soda cans outside the door. She knocked and stepped in. John and Bobby looked up, piled on a bed, reading magazines. "You know, all that soda will stunt your growth." John snickered; Bobby blushed and concentrated on the wall. She sighed and left.
"What?" asked Scott, putting the crate on a cart filled with trashcans of worn-out notebooks, computer paper and empty water bottles.
"They're obsessed with innuendo." She laughed.
"Think she's right?" asked John, tossing his magazine, turning an examining eye to his crotch. Bobby grinned, rolled over to make sure.
Tuesday:
"Holy crap! Bobby out-inneundoed me!" He blushed and John licked his lips as he smiled, staring. Bobby looked away first and concentrated on the pile of carrots. John pressed his thigh against him, then ran his fingers up his leg from the kneecap to wedge them slightly into the pocket of his jeans, the heat of his fingertips radiating across Bobby's skin. John always won these things. "Do you want a prize?" John whispered into Bobby's neck. He tongued a birthmark.
"Here?"
"This is when you ice the door closed." Bobby did; John kissed him, pulling him under the table.
Wednesday:
"Why the rush?" Bobby walked into the bathroom, nearly slipping on the wet tile; John had overslept.
"Another late means another detention means garbage duty."
"You don't even hurry when there's a chance we'll get arrested for exhibitionism." John momentarily stopped scrubbing and smirked, letting the washcloth graze very slowly across his abdomen, Bobby's eyes following.
"Bobby, picking up trash and giving you head in a movie theater are not exactly equivalent in terms of a good time." Bobby smirked.
"I was referring to having sex in McDonald's bathrooms." John blushed and grinned, remembered the filthy wall against his back.
Thursday:
John glides his fingers across Bobby's skin, imagining his fingertips as pebbles, the pale membrane a lake, skipping over the spine's bumps, skating the curve of his back. "What's your aversion to clothes?"
"Like the way you look like this." He tucks his hands beneath his head.
"With my shirt off?" Bobby faces him.
"No... like..." He pulls his thumb down Bobby's eyebrow, nose, lips, resting on his chin. "...you know where all my pieces are, like our spines are fused or something." Bobby kisses the hollow beneath his throat.
"Get it." John was always awkward saying 'I love you.'
Friday: Movie Night
"Mine has vampires!"
"Mine has Nicholas Cage playing fat twins!"
"Uh..."
"I win."
"You don't win!" Bobby tackled John. He grinded his hips slightly. "Mine first." He leaned down, hands on either side of John's head. "Then-"
"Bobby! What are you doing?!" Marie was standing in the doorway. John flipped Bobby off him calmly.
"Fine," he put in Bobby's tape, "we'll watch yours first." Marie left, giving them a Look. John laughed and kissed the button of Bobby's jeans. "Next time, close the door." Bobby iced the door closed, and climbed onto the couch, resting his head on John's leg.
Saturday: Going Out
"Last time I bet on video games."
"Loser."
"Fuck you."
"Maybe." Bobby applied the mascara, thumb pressed into John's cheekbone.
"Who's the loser, the guy in makeup, or the guy who bought it?"
"You look pretty hot." John smiled, eyes closed. Bobby kissed him, then smeared on lipstick. "Done." John went to look in the mirror. Tight shirt, choker, lipstick, eye shadow, spiked hair; he looked like the fucking Cure. "Ready to go?" asked Bobby, standing there in John's second-tightest jeans.
"I better get really good sex for this." Bobby smirked and opened the window.
"Hey- I'm in charge tonight."
Sunday: Laundry
John rested his upper body on the dryer's top, his head vibrating slightly. "That's gonna screw with your brain," Bobby came in and stood behind him, pressing himself against John's lower body and legs. John shrugged. Bobby bent down, resting on top of him. "Tired?"
"Little."
"Go back to sleep. I'll watch the laundry." John smiled into the metal.
"Can't if you're not there."
"So sleep here." Which is why Logan walked in an hour later and found John curled up on top of the washing machine, his head in Bobby's lap; Bobby playing with his hair, reading Brendan Behan.
