[For Bobby] Most. Awkward. Conversation. Ever. [Mid March]

[prodigalflame]

Two nights ago, John had signalled a time out on account of how tired he'd been after teaching three classes and catching up with his load of marking. Last night, he'd begged off with a headache and a wan smile. Both nights, there had been snuggling, and kissing, but nothing too intense. It wasn't that he didn't want Bobby - quite the opposite, he wanted his boyfriend all the fucking time, he wanted him in every goddamn room in the house and across half of London and he wanted to bend over the couch and practically order Bobby to fuck him hard more often than not.

Which explained why movie night that night involved John being hard and uncomfortable and sitting apart on the sofa, trying to disguise his boner with a bowl of popcorn. He knew Bobby wouldn't be ashamed of things, wouldn't judge him, would never judge him. (Okay, he might judge him for some of John's kinkier fantasies, but he wasn't going there. Yet.) And that made it worse, because John knew that the only person who was liable to embarrassed about what a slutty bottom on poppers he'd become was himself.

He didn't know what to do about that. He didn't know how not to be embarrassed guy with awkward boner.

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[prodigalflame]

John felt Bobby's arms loosely entwine around his neck, and it was like he was meant to be there. They fit together somehow, even like this, Bobby moving with his body, pulling him close (when John didn't do it first) to form a whole.

"Yeah," John admitted, voice a little choked, and knew he was blushing. "I guess I am." He liked this. It wasn't that he was a wreck before he met Bobby - he knew he hadn't been. He'd taken care of his kids and done things to be proud of. But Bobby was sweet and funny and God, he was safe. In the good use of the word, not the boring one.

Dropping a kiss to Bobby's mouth again, he lowered himself gently so they could snuggle closer, resting his head on Bobby's chest. "...Just don't get bored with me, okay? I'm not actually this fearsome hard-ass who tops all the time, and I'm sorry I'm not more interesting." And yeah, God, he was a little embarassed about that, and fearful that he might seem like a broken record, sexually speaking. Stuck in a rut. All that.

[cold_blueeyes]

Bobby's brow furrowed as he adjusted his hold on John, arms wrapping around his back, holding him close. "...Have I ever made you think that's what I want from you?" he asked quietly. As for John being boring, well--that was straight-up laughable. "And you're dating a guy that could best be described as vanilla ice cream personified, John-boy. I'm not the one I'm worried about getting bored in all of this. I don't think you've ever bored me." Frustrated, sure. Infuriated, more than once, especially back in school. Disappointed him even, once or twice, but never ever bored him.

[prodigalflame]

"No." John murmured quiet against Bobby's chest, nuzzling a little. "But you're a sweetheart," he admitted, in a small, somewhat lonely voice, before he looked up at those blue eyes, chin on Bobby's chest: "You want me, that's it." Every which way, that was sure. And John wasn't sure if Bobby would ever admit if things could be better for fear of hurting John's feelings or damn well expressing a less than positive emotion. "And I want to be good for you, so good." He swallowed.

"Now I'm starting to think maybe I just am good for you, and there's no hoops to jump through." And wasn't that weird? Finding himself worthy, beyond all the bluster. "As for the rest, I'm hardly bored of you, you're this sweet, funny, rock in my life. Always have been." A rock he could build the rest of his life on. Words loomed large in John's chest, and he got them out, somehow. "I love you, sweetheart."

[cold_blueeyes]

Bobby moved a hand up to stroke John's hair, smiling up as he talked and nodding a little in agreement. John's words filled him with warmth, made him feel comfortable and a little more confident about where they stood. And then John said the words.

Bobby was silent for a long moment, letting the truth of those words sink into him, and then he broke into a sweet smile. "I love you too, baby," he murmured, lifting his head to look at John as he said them back. There was no question, no hesitation. He'd loved John for years, whether the other man believed that or not--but he meant them in the 'this is real and true and strong and right,' kind of way, not just in the 'I give a shit what happens to you,' kind of way. It was easy to say them, and speaking them aloud, feeling his chest tighten with the emotion he was expressing, he wondered why he hadn't said it sooner.

[prodigalflame]

There was an ease that settled in him when Bobby responded the way he did. Of course he felt the same way - would things have gotten as far as they did if he hadn't? John knew even when they were teenagers that one Robert Louis Drake was undeniably the paragon of sweethearts everywhere. And knowing just how honestly Bobby would have uffered up those words in return, he smiled a little.

There was still a trace of a blush on his cheeks from the endearment: that was something he'd never live down. But here he'd probably never have to. Here he could really be that guy, the person for whom Pittsburgh and Westchester and Manhattan were necessary stops on the way. He didn't feel any different from the college student he'd been at Columbia; it was just one less layer of bullshit to contend with.

"Well, you have do impeccable taste," he acknowledged, dryly. "But so do I. I'll work on my stupid, promise. There's some stuff I'm into exploring, sexually-speaking, but we'll burn that bridge when we get to it. I know you'd never judge me and that's...that means a lot." And that was definitely not an invitation for them to have the kink talk, more a...placeholder. John privately doubted he was as scary as he assumed, anyway.

Running a hand absently along Bobby's side, John thought about it for a second more, then made his suggestion: "You should move in with me. Properly. My room becomes our room. This house for us. Together."

[cold_blueeyes]

Conversations with John often took sharp left turns like that, from confessions of love to discussing exploring stuff in the bedroom, so Bobby just gave a little nod.

He thought about the proposal for a moment, instead. Having his own space was nice, but hell, he was practically moved into John's room as it was. There was no reason for him to keep a separate bedroom just for his stuff.

So he smiled and nodded again. "Okay. I mean, it makes sense. And then you can rent out the room again, if you want to." Although it would be weird having someone else there, unless they could find another mutant to rent the place. That wouldn't be so bad, he guessed.

[prodigalflame]

Keeping his eyes on Bobby's, John shook his head just a little. "Nah. I'm good. We're good," he corrected: "no need for an interloper, I think. Besides, I like having you all to myself." The idea of having to moderate the constant little touching and the general tendency towards making out all the time because there was a New Housemate was not an idea John wanted to entertain.

But for John, his conversation made total sense - of course thinking about how much he loved Bobby lead to thinking about how he wanted to fuck Bobby and have Bobby as part of his life. In his house, anyway. Their house. And that was that. He gave Bobby a quick kiss on the lips as if placing a full stop on the conversation, and snuggled in before reaching for the remote. They were supposed to be having a movie night, after all.