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: Oh my this is fun to write.

His Reason

J.D. stood in front of the large window, staring into his patient's room. He was smiling softly, but that was only because the man sleeping in the bed was reminding him very much of a certain janitor….

He frowned and turned only his head when he felt a firm tapping on his shoulder. Said janitor's face was right next to his, causing the doctor to turn a light shade of scarlet. "Mm?" he managed to squeeze through his closing throat.

The Janitor was watching the sleeping man as well, but his lips were close to J.D.'s ear as he whispered, "Let me know when you figure it out." He walked away, and as he was turning, he brushed a hand lightly over the small of J.D.'s back.

The younger man shivered and tugged the hem of his scrubs top down.

When he finished lunch, J.D. was still trying to figure out what the Janitor meant by what he'd said, which was probably not what he was supposed to figure out in the first place. Even that thought confused him.

He got up to throw his trash away and found himself standing in front of a very tall man-wall. He didn't even notice how close the two were.

"Did you figure it out yet?" he asked quietly, not making eye contact. He reminded J.D. of a secret agent who didn't look at the person he was speaking to in order to prevent suspicion.

J.D. cleared his throat. "No…."

The Janitor glanced at him, then nodded. "You will," he said before brushing past him, running a hand gently over J.D.'s stomach.

The doctor shuddered for the second time.

"Now?"

J.D. jumped a foot in the air and slammed his locker door shut with a startling BANG, which caused him to jump again. "Would you stop?!"

He was rewarded with a smirk from the Janitor, who was sitting on the bench directly across from his locker. "Why would I stop? I'm trying to get you to figure it out."

"I have no idea what I'm supposed to be figuring out," Dr. Dorian sighed before realizing the other man wasn't in his uniform but in his street clothes. He tilted his head, admiring the way the light grey t-shirt looked under the red plaid flannel shirt. And, as usual, he loved how those jeans made those legs look five hundred miles longer….

"What're you doing?" the Janitor asked without doubt.

J.D. looked up quickly and blushed slightly. "I was just—" He stopped mid-sentence and stared, completely taken aback by what had just flown through his head.

The Janitor quirked an eyebrow. "From the look on your face…" he declared, standing and leisurely making his way over to the shorter of the two, "I'd say you just figured it out."

"It's what you do to me," J.D. blurted, weirded out by the cliché. "Uh…I mean…my reactions to you when you…do stuff…like that," he gasped. The Janitor had placed his hands on the doctor's waist, drawing the two of them closer together.

He smiled. "But I've always had that effect on you."

J.D. suspected he was referring to the night he saw all of the taller man through that wonderful, wonderful window—

"Okay, yeah, fine, but what are you saying?"

"What do you think I'm saying?"

"You…you turn me on?"

There was a smug silence that followed this statement; a silence during which the Janitor grinned, kissed J.D. in a very tantalizing manner, and massaged a tender circle on his abdomen. "Good job, Scooter," he whispered in his ear, then turned and left.

J.D. was left to stare after him, totally flabbergasted. He promptly fell over onto his side.