A red Santa hat.
Jonny blinked dumbly before moving his eyes down only to be met with a sly smile plastered on a smug face.
“I thought of wearing the suit and stuffing it with a couple of pillows as well, but those bastards at the costume shop ask for 50 pounds for the whole night,” Thom licked his lips, loving the effect his sudden appearance had on Jonny, “But lookie, I’ve got the real beard. It’s not like all that artificial white stuff. This thing it’s real,” Thom stroked his stubble.
Jonny was still speechless.
“Well, judging by your reaction, I guess I should explain myself,” Thom shifted from foot to foot, “We haven’t seen each other for…erm…two months? Telephone calls aside…and well it’s Christmas Eve, and I thought ‘Hell, why wouldn’t I go to check up on that mate of mine, Jonny his name is, and why wouldn’t I bring a red Claus sac full of booze?’, and well, here I am,” Thom gazed meaningfully behind his back, indicating the clinking sac behind his shoulders.
“I thought you were going to have a party at your house tonight,” finally Jonny swallowed the ball that was troubling his breathing and produced a sound.
“I am! But you know what? Half-way through, the time when I usually look for you so we could talk, I realized you weren’t there and so I decided to ditch everybody,” Thom started to become nervous now, “Listen, um, I am not interrupting anything, am I? I mean…if there’s a gorgeous blonde in your living room, I’ll just go back, I mean it’s not a big deal really, they are probably waiting for me anyway…”
“No, the only gorgeous blonde here is you,” Jonny tried to sound jokingly, but it turned out completely wrong and they both blushed, looking down. They were silent for a moment, before Thom took a deep breathe:
“Have you got any nice glasses?”
“Yeah.”
…::…
Jonny loved the way his small dingy apartment turned into something holiday-like when Thom appeared there suddenly; they turned off the main lights and set up a coffee table, feeling it with quick snacks they managed to make and bottles that Thom brought with him. Sitting on the floor, they picked an old cheesy Christmas movie and turned the volume on, talking about nothing, just enjoying the company. Thom produced a miniature Christmas tree from the sac he brought and set it in the middle of the table.
“Where’s that from?” Jonny smiled, fingering the green plastic.
“Actually, I snatched it from the liquor store,” Thom laughed, “The owner had his back on me and I thought that it was nice and I was sure that you didn’t have a huge tree in your place, so I’ve decided to borrow that one.”
“Whoa, you sure they didn’t have any hidden cameras?”
“Oh my bloody God,” Thom’s jaw dropped, “You think they might’ve recorded it?”
“Oh yeah! Tomorrow morning, NME’s going to have an article: ‘Starving artist is forced to steal a Christmas tree.’”
“I’ll return it right now then,” Thom got up, but Jonny laughed and caught his hand in the mid-air, tackling him down to the ground again. Thom lost his balance and landed on top of Jonny’s lap with a loud “oomph”.
“Jonny,” Thom giggled, brushing Jonny’s hair away so he could see his face, “Lemme go, I have to save my dignity!”
“Oh, shut up,” Jonny smiled at him lovingly, circling his waist with his arms, “It’s not like it’s the biggest shock you’ve brought to the public.”
“What’s the biggest one then?” Thom smiled, straddling Jonny’s lap and putting his hands on the bigger man’s shoulders.
“Well you know, if some paparazzi was taking pictures of us now, I think it would be the biggest stunt ever,” Jonny leaned against the sofa, holding Thom in his arms, his consciousness clouded with alcohol and Thom’s close presence.
“Ooh, maybe we should give the poor guy more material,” Thom reached his hand up to stroke Jonny’s jaw line with his fingers, “D’you think he is shooting us from window of the building across?”
“Yeah, that must be it,” Jonny’s eyes darted to see Thom’s lips and his breathe hitched a little.
“Okay, so,” Thom tilted his head, moving closer to Jonny, “When we kiss, keep in mind that we have to make a nice angle for the guy.”
Jonny was nodding, the words not quite reaching his mind. He felt Thom’s hand wrap around the back of his neck and then he was drawn closer to the man on top of him, their lips meeting for a small peck before they started to kiss fiercely; Thom stood on his knees, still straddling Jonny, and his hands were rubbing his shoulders, eager to feel the skin underneath the shirt. Jonny moaned quietly and pushed against Thom harder, his fingers grabbing Thom’s shirt and pulling it up a little reflexively. But just as it started, the kiss stopped abruptly, as Thom pulled away, laughing and gazing sideways, giving a finger to his imaginary photographer and shouting something. Jonny panted, his fingers still grasping Thom’s shirt. He realized that Thom’s hand was still resting on his cheek, so he turned his head a little and kissed it, savoring the feel of the warm skin against his lips, flicking it with his nose and closing his eyes to inhale the smell of Thom’s slightly damp palm.
Feeling the wet contact, Thom turned his head and looked at Jonny – his chest heaving and his face rubbing against his palm in agony. He sighed and watched the younger man for a while, his pupils dilating and heart fluttering at the eager caresses he was receiving. Finally, Jonny’s eyes opened and they looked at each other. Thom slowly settled back on Jonny’s lap, playing with his hair softly and stroking his neck and shoulders.
“The summer after we met,” Jonny caught Thom’s hand again, kissing his fingers and rubbing his cheek against them, “I walked on you while you were stretching on Colin’s bed with your eyes closed, with headphones on, your lips moving and forming the lyrics…and…something about the way one of your legs was bent at the knee and your hand on your stomach,” Jonny closed his eyes, letting his hair fall on his face, “Something about the way your hair was messy that day…something about the way you smiled at me when you told you that we were waiting for you so we could start a rehearsal,” Jonny raised his head, looking not at Thom directly, but a little to the side from his face, “And then it just kept growing.”
Jonny trailed off, a little smile forming on his lips; Thom thought he had forgotten about him, but then Jonny was playing with his fingers again, kissing them one by one and holding them in his hand before looking at Thom’s face, carefully avoiding the eye contact and tracing his features with the soft pad of his finger. His eyes narrowed in pleasure and curiosity as he stroked the soft skin that was spiky with stubble at some places. Thom noticed him biting his lip – they way a young boy would while playing with his favourite toy.
Thom moved a little and Jonny dropped his hand, blushing and looking down. “Sorry,” he mumbled through a smile, “I wanted to get as much as I could while you were in stupor. I guess we will never be that close again,” he added with a sadness in his voice, “That is, if I am allowed to see you at all,” he raised his head, looking at Thom with doomed bitterness, making their first eye contact for the evening.
“The night after our first gig,” Thom reached across to cup his face while the color drained from Jonny’s face, “I had this feeling of intense euphoria…and I remember us sitting on the sofa at that after party, our eyes closed and heads thrown back and talking complete rubbish…and I remember they way our shoulders and thighs brushed against each other and the way you slurred after a few pints. We had this,” Thom smiled, looking down for a second, “Wild connection…breathing at the same rate and thinking at the unison. And I thought the way you smelled and how I wanted to snuggle in close to you on that sofa right there in then. How nice it would be if we were together.”
Thom ducked for another quick kiss from Jonny’s unmoving lips, chuckling slightly.
“Seriously?” Jonny mumbled under his breathe, not quite believing yet.
“Yeah, seriously,” Thom smiled, “I guess, we have to make it official, eh?” he rubbed his cheek against Jonny’s, closing his eyes, “What I was trying to say was…I love you,” he whispered it in Jonny’s ear before nipping at it lightly, “Aren’t you going to anything, Jon?”
“Holy fuck,” Jonny’s eyes became huge with happiness, “Bloody shit....”
“Very romantic, Jon-Jon,” Thom smacked his shoulder playfully, “Here we have the bloody Christmas tree and the cheesy movie is on, and we are drinking and pouring our souls out, and all you can think about is profanities,” Thom pouted and Jonny kissed him as if to check if this image was still true. Thom returned the kiss and they launched another session on exploration of each other’s bodies, their sighs mingling and fingers clawing at flesh desperately.
“Okay, okay,” Jonny pulled back with a great effort, “Okay, even if it’s some kind of insane dream, I’m gonna say it,” he took Thom’s face in his hands, “I love you.”
Jonny closed his eyes as if expecting to wake up, but nothing happened. Instead, he felt a warm flick of the tongue on his lips and when he opened his eyes again he saw Thom’s smiling face.
“You know,” Thom reached back to grab two glasses of wine from the table, “I should’ve chosen a different holiday for this. Christmas is waaay overused,” he handed one glass to Jonny, “Imagine if I chose…hmmm…world vegetarian day? I’d stop by your place in a broccoli costume and advice you to eat me,” Jonny shook his head, “No? All right…Oktoberfest then? I’d make a hot Bavarian chick.”
“Bavarian chicks are not my type,” Jonny laughed, pecking Thom on the mouth.
“Who’s your type then?”
“The very bloke sitting on my lap.”
“Ah, Jonny,” Thom clinked their glasses, “I think I feel most sorry for us missing out on all the sweet talk…never mind sex and making out.”
Monday, December 10, 2007
Jonny's Sweet 16
Part I
“Come on, Jonny, that’s not a birthday present. Name something else.”
“I don’t need something else. You know what I want.”
Colin sighs.
“I told you, that’s up to Thom. I don’t decide who’s in and who’s not. Ask him himself, he’s staying for dinner tomorrow. I’ll... I don’t know, I’ll just get you some strings or something, ok? Do you need new grease for your bow?”
“I don’t need anything, thanks.”
All this time, Jonny hasn’t looked up once. He’s sitting in the swinging chair in the corner of the living room, knees propped up, his glasses almost touching the book that is displayed on top of them.
“That’s bad for your eyes, you know, sitting that close. Don’t you want contacts? Me and Susan could buy you contacts. At least for a few months.”
Jonny sighs.
“I only need glasses to read, Colin. Wearing contacts all the time would only ruin my eyes.”
“As if they’re not ruined already...”
“Can I please finish my book now?”
Jonny is staring an annoyed stare in Colin’s direction. Colin rolls his eyes. As he’s climbing up the stairs he’s wondering whether he was this difficult three years ago. He bloody well isn’t getting anything for his birthday, that’s for sure.
Part II
Jonny hears Thom laugh even before he has entered the house. Thom’s got a nice laugh, he thinks. You can hear it boiling up from his stomach. Jonny can already tell when it’s genuine. This one was genuine. Good, he thinks. He’s in a good mood. Maybe he’ll just say ‘yeah, ok’. Or ‘oh brilliant, we’ve been searching for a third guitarist for ages’.
Jonny’s heart sinks. Of course he won’t let him in. First of all, what band even needs a third guitarist? Second of all, he’s Colin’s annoying little brother. Third of all, he’s the only one still in high school. Which is totally uncool. Garage bands are in high school. Rock bands go to... Yeah, where do they go? To uni, like his brother? Or do they work in a retail store, like Thom?
He’s kicked out of his reverie by the high pitched voice of his mother, shrieking that ‘Jonathan! Dinner’s ready, Jonathan!’. Jonny cringes. Don’t. Call. Me. Jonathan. Especially not twice in one sentence. Especially not when Thom’s around. She doesn’t call him Thomas, he thinks bitterly.
Jonny walks into the kitchen when everyone is already seated. He hates walking into the kitchen when everyone is already seated. Everyone always drops their conversation and stares at him when he walks into the kitchen when everyone is already seated. Especially Thom. He’s doing it right now. He’s a starer. Did he just invent that word?
“Hello Jonny,” Thom greets, smiling.
“It’s been a while, no?”
Jonny looks at him. Actually, no, he looks at Thom’s collar. Jonny only looks Thom in the eyes when Thom isn’t looking him in the eyes.
“Hi,” he mumbles.
“You’re wearing your glasses,” Thom points out.
Jonny blushes and ekes out a faint ‘oh’ whilst taking them off in one swift movement.
He is definitely getting contacts.
“Don’t. I like them,” Thom adds with a full mouth, pointing at them with his fork.
Or maybe not.
He decides that putting them on again would be rather stupid, so he just smiles faintly and continues trying to eat.
For a few years now Jonny has been trying to figure out what exactly it is Thom is doing to him. Or, more precisely, Thom’s presence. He grows extremely self-conscious and most of the time fails in his strong efforts to compose himself and act casually. Though the few times it was just the two of them alone in a room, Jonny seemed to relax a bit. They actually had had nice, though rather short, conversations. That reminded him of the conversation he was supposed to be having with Thom. He wasn’t even sure how he was going to put it into words.
In the mean time, the conversation between Thom and Colin had died down and the kitchen was quiet again.
Then Thom looked up.
“So, Jonny, any plans for Sunday?”
“Sunday?”
“Your birthday.”
Right. He knows my birthday now?
“Erm, I haven’t thought about it yet.”
“You haven’t? Sixteen is a special age, you know. You are going to celebrate it, right? If you’ve got nothing else to do, you could come over to Ed’s, he’s throwing a party on Saturday. Invite some friends if you like. It’s not as if the place isn’t big enough.”
Thom was doing his best to ignore Colin’s murderous glances.
“We could all sing Happy Birthday at twelve o’clock, it’ll be great,” he added, grinning.
Jonny swallowed slowly. He obviously was supposed to say something.
“Um, yeah, sounds nice, but I could live without the singing really.”
Great, you dork, now it sounds like you don’t want to hear him sing.
“Come on, Jonny, that’s not a birthday present. Name something else.”
“I don’t need something else. You know what I want.”
Colin sighs.
“I told you, that’s up to Thom. I don’t decide who’s in and who’s not. Ask him himself, he’s staying for dinner tomorrow. I’ll... I don’t know, I’ll just get you some strings or something, ok? Do you need new grease for your bow?”
“I don’t need anything, thanks.”
All this time, Jonny hasn’t looked up once. He’s sitting in the swinging chair in the corner of the living room, knees propped up, his glasses almost touching the book that is displayed on top of them.
“That’s bad for your eyes, you know, sitting that close. Don’t you want contacts? Me and Susan could buy you contacts. At least for a few months.”
Jonny sighs.
“I only need glasses to read, Colin. Wearing contacts all the time would only ruin my eyes.”
“As if they’re not ruined already...”
“Can I please finish my book now?”
Jonny is staring an annoyed stare in Colin’s direction. Colin rolls his eyes. As he’s climbing up the stairs he’s wondering whether he was this difficult three years ago. He bloody well isn’t getting anything for his birthday, that’s for sure.
Part II
Jonny hears Thom laugh even before he has entered the house. Thom’s got a nice laugh, he thinks. You can hear it boiling up from his stomach. Jonny can already tell when it’s genuine. This one was genuine. Good, he thinks. He’s in a good mood. Maybe he’ll just say ‘yeah, ok’. Or ‘oh brilliant, we’ve been searching for a third guitarist for ages’.
Jonny’s heart sinks. Of course he won’t let him in. First of all, what band even needs a third guitarist? Second of all, he’s Colin’s annoying little brother. Third of all, he’s the only one still in high school. Which is totally uncool. Garage bands are in high school. Rock bands go to... Yeah, where do they go? To uni, like his brother? Or do they work in a retail store, like Thom?
He’s kicked out of his reverie by the high pitched voice of his mother, shrieking that ‘Jonathan! Dinner’s ready, Jonathan!’. Jonny cringes. Don’t. Call. Me. Jonathan. Especially not twice in one sentence. Especially not when Thom’s around. She doesn’t call him Thomas, he thinks bitterly.
Jonny walks into the kitchen when everyone is already seated. He hates walking into the kitchen when everyone is already seated. Everyone always drops their conversation and stares at him when he walks into the kitchen when everyone is already seated. Especially Thom. He’s doing it right now. He’s a starer. Did he just invent that word?
“Hello Jonny,” Thom greets, smiling.
“It’s been a while, no?”
Jonny looks at him. Actually, no, he looks at Thom’s collar. Jonny only looks Thom in the eyes when Thom isn’t looking him in the eyes.
“Hi,” he mumbles.
“You’re wearing your glasses,” Thom points out.
Jonny blushes and ekes out a faint ‘oh’ whilst taking them off in one swift movement.
He is definitely getting contacts.
“Don’t. I like them,” Thom adds with a full mouth, pointing at them with his fork.
Or maybe not.
He decides that putting them on again would be rather stupid, so he just smiles faintly and continues trying to eat.
For a few years now Jonny has been trying to figure out what exactly it is Thom is doing to him. Or, more precisely, Thom’s presence. He grows extremely self-conscious and most of the time fails in his strong efforts to compose himself and act casually. Though the few times it was just the two of them alone in a room, Jonny seemed to relax a bit. They actually had had nice, though rather short, conversations. That reminded him of the conversation he was supposed to be having with Thom. He wasn’t even sure how he was going to put it into words.
In the mean time, the conversation between Thom and Colin had died down and the kitchen was quiet again.
Then Thom looked up.
“So, Jonny, any plans for Sunday?”
“Sunday?”
“Your birthday.”
Right. He knows my birthday now?
“Erm, I haven’t thought about it yet.”
“You haven’t? Sixteen is a special age, you know. You are going to celebrate it, right? If you’ve got nothing else to do, you could come over to Ed’s, he’s throwing a party on Saturday. Invite some friends if you like. It’s not as if the place isn’t big enough.”
Thom was doing his best to ignore Colin’s murderous glances.
“We could all sing Happy Birthday at twelve o’clock, it’ll be great,” he added, grinning.
Jonny swallowed slowly. He obviously was supposed to say something.
“Um, yeah, sounds nice, but I could live without the singing really.”
Great, you dork, now it sounds like you don’t want to hear him sing.
It's always been you
"I love you all," declared Thom to the assembled group of his bandmates and their families, "But it's time I told the truth. I can't live a lie any longer."
Rachel's smile turned into a look of concern.
"I'm in love with Jonny Greenwood." Thom turned to look Jonny directly in the eyes, "Jonny, it's always been you. It's just taken me 40 years to figure it out. I love you."
Jonny stared back at Thom, his handsome face slack with disbelief, then a smile slowly lit up Jonny's face.
Rachel's smile turned into a look of concern.
"I'm in love with Jonny Greenwood." Thom turned to look Jonny directly in the eyes, "Jonny, it's always been you. It's just taken me 40 years to figure it out. I love you."
Jonny stared back at Thom, his handsome face slack with disbelief, then a smile slowly lit up Jonny's face.
How Thonny Saved Nude
Jonny looked at his watch and then out the window. If he remembered correctly, Thom and him had agreed to meet up in their studio at 10 o’clock sharp, even though the band had planned a day off from recording. “Those string arrangements won’t write themselves, you know!”, Thom sternly said when Jonny cautiously pointed out they were supposed to enjoy a quiet day at home with their families. “I also want to record some extra takes for Reckoner, because I’m not sure the way I’m singing it now is working. People will say that I’m only trying to sound like Bob Dylan.” Jonny didn’t object after that, because he wouldn’t dream of turning down some precious alone time with his closest friend, of which he had experienced so little lately. But now it was nearly 11, and he was nowhere to be seen. Just when Jonny really started to worry about what had happened, Thom walked through the door, a look of slight distress on his face. “Sorry Jon”, he mumbled. “Agnes shit her pants again and Rachel kept saying that it was ‘my turn’”. Jonny didn’t mind. As soon as he’d seen Thom arriving, he had forgotten all about his lack of punctuality. He was beaming. Thom’s expression changed rapidly, and now he was giving Jonny one of his familiar looks.
“Thom!”, Jonny blushed, “We’re in our studio here! We already discussed that this is not a proper place for what you’re thinking of!”. “What am I thinking of then, Jonathan?”, he replied while sporting a cheeky smirk. Jonny giggled nervously and started picking a scab on his elbow while looking at the floor. “You know...”. Thom grinned from ear to ear. “Come on Jon-jon, look around you! This place is a veritable sex-o-drome! We’ve got all these nifty accessories, not to mention a shitload of little cameras! I’m sure some of our fans would appreciate it if we made them a different kind of webcast...”. Jonny gasped in shock and stared at Thom, wide-eyed and quite mortified. “A webcast of us...together...? You must be joking!”. Thom was genuinely amused by his indignation. “Next time you’re using Nigel’s computer, go browse Atease, dear chap, and check out the Classics section! Our fans have caught on about what’s going with us ages ago! There’s some right clever birds there, man. Imagine how happy they’d be to watch us! Imagine our biggest fans worldwide all getting themselves off at the same time while we’re broadcasting! Do you realise how revolutionary that could be, Jon? We’d go down as the most interactive band in history!”. Thom was nearly foaming at the mouth with excitement now. Jonny, on the other hand, had turned rather pale. “But...but Thom...I know about those Classics fans...don’t you think they’re crazy enough already? I’ve seen some of those Cheesecake stories...in one of them I was fucked by Beck, for crying out loud! One of them said that she would be writing a story about me doing it with Cozzie! One of them calls herself “Radiohead slut”! And it’s not even only girls, there was this guy who analysed our lyrics and said we made porn music! Porn music, Thom! These people are insane!”. Thom snorted. “But Jonny, almost every single word I write is about fucking! What else could I be thinking of when I’m around you and the other guys? Yes, we make porn music, good solid porn music – what else did you think there was in my lyrics?”. Jonny looked puzzled. “Weren’t they about alienation, or something?”, he pouted. “I’m afraid not, Jonny. They were more about penetration.” “How about Pyramid Song? Isn’t that about suicide?”, Jonny tried. “Silly boy! Why do you think I wrote it on your back while you were enjoying your post coitus beauty sleep? It’s about cumming! Our affair has been my primary source of inspiration for years. Without that my creativity would have dried up in 1998 at the latest!”.
Several random loose fragments of lyrics were now flashing through Jonny’s mind. Suddenly, all of them seemed utterly sordid. Jonny wasn’t sure whether to be disappointed or aroused by this enormous revelation. The look on Thom’s face changed yet again, from giddy to strict. “Now get on your knees!”, he commanded while looking Jonny straight in the big bewildered eyes. “Thom, noooo, we’re in the studio!”, Jonny protested. “We’re not supposed to be doing it here – what would the other guys say!?”. “They’d say that it’s the best imaginable place for sex, and they’d know what they were talking about, too! Haven’t you ever wondered why Phil’s drumsticks have that strange tanned shade to them?”. Jonny was even more distressed now. “What!? What are you saying, Thom? Oh no, last night Phil was alone with Colin...do you think he touched my brother!?”. “All I can say is that those drumsticks definitely did”, Thom chuckled, pleased at his own wit. “Do you want me to show you what happened?”. Jonny’s face turned all the colors of the rainbow in a few seconds. “But how do you know these things!? You’ve never cheated on me, have you? I mean, except with Rachel, of course...”. “Jonny, you know how much of a sex fiend I am, don’t you? I thought you wouldn’t be jealous if I, just once, with Phil...it was purely physical anyway...with you it’s different...”. Thom gave Jonny an apologetic look, to which the latter sighed. “Oh well...it was to be expected, I suppose...at least you’ve never touched my brother.”. An uncomfortable silence ensued. As soon as Jonny finished his sentence, Thom looked elsewhere and avoided eye contact. Aware of the fact that it was his turn to speak now, he looked up and blurted out: “Hey, have you seen that movie about the little penguin who can’t sing but is a really good dancer?”. As soon as he opened his mouth, Thom realised that his attempt to steer away from the conversation was too obvious to not be noticed by even Jonny. Jonny, however, did not seem fazed at all – his eyes lit up and a big smile appeared on his delicate lips. “Of course I’ve watched it, Thom! You took me to see it last Christmas, don’t you remember? We had so much f...” Jonny paused mid-sentence and his childlike enthusiasm made way for annoyance. “Wait a minute! You’re trying to avoid my question! I asked you whether or not you had touched my big brother!!! You did, didn’t you, you...you pervert!”. Thom wasn’t used to seeing his friend and secret lover this far away from his usual meek and obedient nature. “Well, Jonny, to be perfectly honest...remember that time we were already here when you arrived...?”. “What of it!?”, Jonny shouted, tears of anger forming in his eyes. “Colin and me were working on some stuff late at night...and suddenly something he said or did reminded me of Mumble...well, you know how much I liked him...”. “Mumble!? The damn penguin in ‘Happy Feet’!?”. Through his amazement and indignation, Jonny still felt a sting of guilt for cursing about that adorable little character. He pulled himself together to the best of his ability. “So who do I remind you of?”, he scoffed. Thom smiled. “To me, you’re like Bambi – a charming animal, gracious, pure, innocent, with beautiful eyes...Jonny, your eyes are like lakes in which I could happily drown...”. “Thom, I implore you - please don’t write any new lyrics tonight, or our next album is going to sound like a Michael Bolton compilation. How can you be so insensitive the one minute and then so romantic the next? You’re really impossible...but you know that I love you to bits, that’s why I can forgive you for messing around with other boys. Just don’t ever touch Coz again, okay?”. Jonny just wanted to forget about the whole thing at this point. He couldn’t stay mad at Thom anyway. “Deal, Jonny”, he answered. “Now shut your mouth and get on your knees! Hey, how about putting on that arm brace? You know how hard I get when you wear that!”. Jonny couldn’t help but giggle. “Okay, Thom, okay. On one condition – I get to choose the mood music this time! After that techno mix you picked last week, I could barely walk for two days.” Thom’s expression turned to shifty. “Hey Jon-jon – want me to demonstrate that trick with the drumsticks now?”. “THOM! Those sticks were in my brother last night!!”. “Oh, that’s right – sorry...”. Thom gave Jonny a slightly embarrassed look, as if to apologise for that rather inappropriate suggestion of his. Jonny decided to seize this rare moment of Thom vulnerability to make a suggestion he had been willing to make for a long time. “Thom, would it...would you be okay with it if...I dominated, just this once?”. Jonny spoke these words extremely rapidly, barely articulating them, producing a mumbling sound that seemed to copy the speech pattern of his friend. Right after finishing his sentence, he felt his stomach shrinking in fear of Thom’s potential wrath at this highly unusual request. Luckily, an outburst of anger did not occur. Thom did look somewhat taken aback by this surprising turn of events, yes, but after a few seconds of silence, he regained his composure and his answer was touching in its simplicity: “Jonny, if that’s something you would really like to try, I don’t want to deny you the experience.”. Jonny, who was expecting at least some resistance to his question, was beside himself with glee. “Yay! Thanks so much, Thom! I’ve been having some ideas...you know, I’ve been playing the guitar for many years, but there’s still some things that I haven’t tried with it...”. Thom knew what Jonny was thinking. A shiver ran down his spine. “I really respect your skills as a guitar god”, he said carefully, “but I’m not sure if I want to try that – in fact, are you mad? It’s way too big, you’ll give me internal bleedings!”. “I believe that those last words were exactly what I said when you first unzipped your pants in front of me”, Jonny replied. Thom, surprised by Jonny’s eloquence, knew that there was no sense in protesting any further. “Alright then, Jon-Jon, but for god’s sake be careful!”. He slid down his pants and waited for the inevitable penetration of the headstock of Jonny’s Fender Telecaster. The insertion was an absolutely agonising experience, especially considering the total absence of any lubricant. While Thom was still whimpering with pain, Jonny lovingly and soothingly rubbed his back. “Okay, Thom, I’m going to play a song now, alright? It should be an interesting experience to say the least...if you’re up for it, could you sing along for me? You know he words, it’s my favorite song...”. As the headstock moved back and forth inside Thom, Jonny began playing an all-too-familiar intro. This song had been on heavy rotation on Jonny’s record player since the late 1980’s, and Thom had probably heard it a thousand times. Yes, he definitely knew the words. “C’mon, sing along!”, Jonny giggled enthusiastically while delivering a guitar rendition that can only be described as playfully intense. Despite the almost inhumane anal pain he was suffering, Thom attempted to humour his slave-turned-dominator with a singalong. “Ceeeeleeebrate good times IT HURTS!”, he squealed. Jonny gasped and stopped his playing abruptly. “Thom! You’re getting it all wrong! It’s supposed to be “Come on!”, not “It hurts!”! Let’s start over!”. Thom shuddered. “Jonny, I wasn’t singing along anymore – it really hurts, man, it’s too big.”. One of Jonny’s world-renowned pouts appeared on his face. “Okay, then...how about you sing it a capella for me and I only use Mini-Jon?”. This made Thom light up immensely. “Oh yes, Jonny, yes! I’d gladly sing for you if you used Mini-Jon – you know I love him! Now in the name of all that is good and pure, please pull that guitar out of my ass!”. Jonny obliged and replaced the sturdy Telecaster’s headstock with his trembling hard cock. The colorful Spongebob Squarepants tattoo on his right inner thigh met with Thom’s buttocks. Gently, they started fucking.
“Now...sing for me...again...”, Jonny panted as he moved his solid erection back and forth inside Thom. Once again, the latter obliged. “Ceeeeleee....brate...goo...oooooooooooooooOOOOH!” – his singing erupted in a hurricane of pleasurable noise. Jonny stopped moving at once. “Thom – that note you just did! Don’t you realise? It’s perfect! Perfect for the end of ‘Nude’! We finally found it! The suitable closing note for the song!”. Thom rarely doubted Jonny’s judgements when it came to applying the finishing touches of songs. “You’re right, Jonny, you’re right! This was perfect for ‘Nude’! Okay, I’m really going to need your help to reproduce it – but first, go press the damn recording button! We’ll need it on tape!”. Jonny quickly slipped out of Thom and skipped towards the tapedeck. A loud thud and a high shriek ensued as Jonny hit his hard penis violently against the piano. “Ouchhhhh!”, Jonny cried. “Oh dear me, is Mini-Jon alright?”, Thom asked with concern. “It hurts like hell – I think that’s it for tonight, Thom...”. His fractured penis started showing strange colors and swelling up. Thom didn’t fail to notice this. “But – look at it! It’s all swollen! It’s nearly as big as Ed’s right now! We can’t afford to stop now, think of the song, Jonny! Just think of the note we could obtain with it!”. But Jonny was not to be swayed. “It really needs some rest now, Thom – if we go any further you’ll have to take me to the hospital tonight. Can you imagine the NME covers? “RADIOHEAD ALBUM DELAYED BY GUITARIST’S SHOCK COCK MISHAP”! I couldn’t handle it!”. Thom knew that Jonny was right and let out a deep sigh. That night, they weren’t going to be able to finally nail that ultimate version of ‘Nude’. But Mini-Jon wouldn’t stay injured. As soon as its healing process had finished, Thom and Jonny would embark on what was to be at the same time their greatest joint sexual experiment and their greatest musical innovation of all time: the perfecting of a song through frantic fucking. Thom would not rest until he hit that unique note again, and was both horny and ambitious enough to want to better it. A world of possibilities was open to them now. No matter how many fucking sessions it would take them, no matter what heights of pleasure they would have to scale, they would record the definitive ‘Nude’. It was the least they could do for their fans.
“Thom!”, Jonny blushed, “We’re in our studio here! We already discussed that this is not a proper place for what you’re thinking of!”. “What am I thinking of then, Jonathan?”, he replied while sporting a cheeky smirk. Jonny giggled nervously and started picking a scab on his elbow while looking at the floor. “You know...”. Thom grinned from ear to ear. “Come on Jon-jon, look around you! This place is a veritable sex-o-drome! We’ve got all these nifty accessories, not to mention a shitload of little cameras! I’m sure some of our fans would appreciate it if we made them a different kind of webcast...”. Jonny gasped in shock and stared at Thom, wide-eyed and quite mortified. “A webcast of us...together...? You must be joking!”. Thom was genuinely amused by his indignation. “Next time you’re using Nigel’s computer, go browse Atease, dear chap, and check out the Classics section! Our fans have caught on about what’s going with us ages ago! There’s some right clever birds there, man. Imagine how happy they’d be to watch us! Imagine our biggest fans worldwide all getting themselves off at the same time while we’re broadcasting! Do you realise how revolutionary that could be, Jon? We’d go down as the most interactive band in history!”. Thom was nearly foaming at the mouth with excitement now. Jonny, on the other hand, had turned rather pale. “But...but Thom...I know about those Classics fans...don’t you think they’re crazy enough already? I’ve seen some of those Cheesecake stories...in one of them I was fucked by Beck, for crying out loud! One of them said that she would be writing a story about me doing it with Cozzie! One of them calls herself “Radiohead slut”! And it’s not even only girls, there was this guy who analysed our lyrics and said we made porn music! Porn music, Thom! These people are insane!”. Thom snorted. “But Jonny, almost every single word I write is about fucking! What else could I be thinking of when I’m around you and the other guys? Yes, we make porn music, good solid porn music – what else did you think there was in my lyrics?”. Jonny looked puzzled. “Weren’t they about alienation, or something?”, he pouted. “I’m afraid not, Jonny. They were more about penetration.” “How about Pyramid Song? Isn’t that about suicide?”, Jonny tried. “Silly boy! Why do you think I wrote it on your back while you were enjoying your post coitus beauty sleep? It’s about cumming! Our affair has been my primary source of inspiration for years. Without that my creativity would have dried up in 1998 at the latest!”.
Several random loose fragments of lyrics were now flashing through Jonny’s mind. Suddenly, all of them seemed utterly sordid. Jonny wasn’t sure whether to be disappointed or aroused by this enormous revelation. The look on Thom’s face changed yet again, from giddy to strict. “Now get on your knees!”, he commanded while looking Jonny straight in the big bewildered eyes. “Thom, noooo, we’re in the studio!”, Jonny protested. “We’re not supposed to be doing it here – what would the other guys say!?”. “They’d say that it’s the best imaginable place for sex, and they’d know what they were talking about, too! Haven’t you ever wondered why Phil’s drumsticks have that strange tanned shade to them?”. Jonny was even more distressed now. “What!? What are you saying, Thom? Oh no, last night Phil was alone with Colin...do you think he touched my brother!?”. “All I can say is that those drumsticks definitely did”, Thom chuckled, pleased at his own wit. “Do you want me to show you what happened?”. Jonny’s face turned all the colors of the rainbow in a few seconds. “But how do you know these things!? You’ve never cheated on me, have you? I mean, except with Rachel, of course...”. “Jonny, you know how much of a sex fiend I am, don’t you? I thought you wouldn’t be jealous if I, just once, with Phil...it was purely physical anyway...with you it’s different...”. Thom gave Jonny an apologetic look, to which the latter sighed. “Oh well...it was to be expected, I suppose...at least you’ve never touched my brother.”. An uncomfortable silence ensued. As soon as Jonny finished his sentence, Thom looked elsewhere and avoided eye contact. Aware of the fact that it was his turn to speak now, he looked up and blurted out: “Hey, have you seen that movie about the little penguin who can’t sing but is a really good dancer?”. As soon as he opened his mouth, Thom realised that his attempt to steer away from the conversation was too obvious to not be noticed by even Jonny. Jonny, however, did not seem fazed at all – his eyes lit up and a big smile appeared on his delicate lips. “Of course I’ve watched it, Thom! You took me to see it last Christmas, don’t you remember? We had so much f...” Jonny paused mid-sentence and his childlike enthusiasm made way for annoyance. “Wait a minute! You’re trying to avoid my question! I asked you whether or not you had touched my big brother!!! You did, didn’t you, you...you pervert!”. Thom wasn’t used to seeing his friend and secret lover this far away from his usual meek and obedient nature. “Well, Jonny, to be perfectly honest...remember that time we were already here when you arrived...?”. “What of it!?”, Jonny shouted, tears of anger forming in his eyes. “Colin and me were working on some stuff late at night...and suddenly something he said or did reminded me of Mumble...well, you know how much I liked him...”. “Mumble!? The damn penguin in ‘Happy Feet’!?”. Through his amazement and indignation, Jonny still felt a sting of guilt for cursing about that adorable little character. He pulled himself together to the best of his ability. “So who do I remind you of?”, he scoffed. Thom smiled. “To me, you’re like Bambi – a charming animal, gracious, pure, innocent, with beautiful eyes...Jonny, your eyes are like lakes in which I could happily drown...”. “Thom, I implore you - please don’t write any new lyrics tonight, or our next album is going to sound like a Michael Bolton compilation. How can you be so insensitive the one minute and then so romantic the next? You’re really impossible...but you know that I love you to bits, that’s why I can forgive you for messing around with other boys. Just don’t ever touch Coz again, okay?”. Jonny just wanted to forget about the whole thing at this point. He couldn’t stay mad at Thom anyway. “Deal, Jonny”, he answered. “Now shut your mouth and get on your knees! Hey, how about putting on that arm brace? You know how hard I get when you wear that!”. Jonny couldn’t help but giggle. “Okay, Thom, okay. On one condition – I get to choose the mood music this time! After that techno mix you picked last week, I could barely walk for two days.” Thom’s expression turned to shifty. “Hey Jon-jon – want me to demonstrate that trick with the drumsticks now?”. “THOM! Those sticks were in my brother last night!!”. “Oh, that’s right – sorry...”. Thom gave Jonny a slightly embarrassed look, as if to apologise for that rather inappropriate suggestion of his. Jonny decided to seize this rare moment of Thom vulnerability to make a suggestion he had been willing to make for a long time. “Thom, would it...would you be okay with it if...I dominated, just this once?”. Jonny spoke these words extremely rapidly, barely articulating them, producing a mumbling sound that seemed to copy the speech pattern of his friend. Right after finishing his sentence, he felt his stomach shrinking in fear of Thom’s potential wrath at this highly unusual request. Luckily, an outburst of anger did not occur. Thom did look somewhat taken aback by this surprising turn of events, yes, but after a few seconds of silence, he regained his composure and his answer was touching in its simplicity: “Jonny, if that’s something you would really like to try, I don’t want to deny you the experience.”. Jonny, who was expecting at least some resistance to his question, was beside himself with glee. “Yay! Thanks so much, Thom! I’ve been having some ideas...you know, I’ve been playing the guitar for many years, but there’s still some things that I haven’t tried with it...”. Thom knew what Jonny was thinking. A shiver ran down his spine. “I really respect your skills as a guitar god”, he said carefully, “but I’m not sure if I want to try that – in fact, are you mad? It’s way too big, you’ll give me internal bleedings!”. “I believe that those last words were exactly what I said when you first unzipped your pants in front of me”, Jonny replied. Thom, surprised by Jonny’s eloquence, knew that there was no sense in protesting any further. “Alright then, Jon-Jon, but for god’s sake be careful!”. He slid down his pants and waited for the inevitable penetration of the headstock of Jonny’s Fender Telecaster. The insertion was an absolutely agonising experience, especially considering the total absence of any lubricant. While Thom was still whimpering with pain, Jonny lovingly and soothingly rubbed his back. “Okay, Thom, I’m going to play a song now, alright? It should be an interesting experience to say the least...if you’re up for it, could you sing along for me? You know he words, it’s my favorite song...”. As the headstock moved back and forth inside Thom, Jonny began playing an all-too-familiar intro. This song had been on heavy rotation on Jonny’s record player since the late 1980’s, and Thom had probably heard it a thousand times. Yes, he definitely knew the words. “C’mon, sing along!”, Jonny giggled enthusiastically while delivering a guitar rendition that can only be described as playfully intense. Despite the almost inhumane anal pain he was suffering, Thom attempted to humour his slave-turned-dominator with a singalong. “Ceeeeleeebrate good times IT HURTS!”, he squealed. Jonny gasped and stopped his playing abruptly. “Thom! You’re getting it all wrong! It’s supposed to be “Come on!”, not “It hurts!”! Let’s start over!”. Thom shuddered. “Jonny, I wasn’t singing along anymore – it really hurts, man, it’s too big.”. One of Jonny’s world-renowned pouts appeared on his face. “Okay, then...how about you sing it a capella for me and I only use Mini-Jon?”. This made Thom light up immensely. “Oh yes, Jonny, yes! I’d gladly sing for you if you used Mini-Jon – you know I love him! Now in the name of all that is good and pure, please pull that guitar out of my ass!”. Jonny obliged and replaced the sturdy Telecaster’s headstock with his trembling hard cock. The colorful Spongebob Squarepants tattoo on his right inner thigh met with Thom’s buttocks. Gently, they started fucking.
“Now...sing for me...again...”, Jonny panted as he moved his solid erection back and forth inside Thom. Once again, the latter obliged. “Ceeeeleee....brate...goo...oooooooooooooooOOOOH!” – his singing erupted in a hurricane of pleasurable noise. Jonny stopped moving at once. “Thom – that note you just did! Don’t you realise? It’s perfect! Perfect for the end of ‘Nude’! We finally found it! The suitable closing note for the song!”. Thom rarely doubted Jonny’s judgements when it came to applying the finishing touches of songs. “You’re right, Jonny, you’re right! This was perfect for ‘Nude’! Okay, I’m really going to need your help to reproduce it – but first, go press the damn recording button! We’ll need it on tape!”. Jonny quickly slipped out of Thom and skipped towards the tapedeck. A loud thud and a high shriek ensued as Jonny hit his hard penis violently against the piano. “Ouchhhhh!”, Jonny cried. “Oh dear me, is Mini-Jon alright?”, Thom asked with concern. “It hurts like hell – I think that’s it for tonight, Thom...”. His fractured penis started showing strange colors and swelling up. Thom didn’t fail to notice this. “But – look at it! It’s all swollen! It’s nearly as big as Ed’s right now! We can’t afford to stop now, think of the song, Jonny! Just think of the note we could obtain with it!”. But Jonny was not to be swayed. “It really needs some rest now, Thom – if we go any further you’ll have to take me to the hospital tonight. Can you imagine the NME covers? “RADIOHEAD ALBUM DELAYED BY GUITARIST’S SHOCK COCK MISHAP”! I couldn’t handle it!”. Thom knew that Jonny was right and let out a deep sigh. That night, they weren’t going to be able to finally nail that ultimate version of ‘Nude’. But Mini-Jon wouldn’t stay injured. As soon as its healing process had finished, Thom and Jonny would embark on what was to be at the same time their greatest joint sexual experiment and their greatest musical innovation of all time: the perfecting of a song through frantic fucking. Thom would not rest until he hit that unique note again, and was both horny and ambitious enough to want to better it. A world of possibilities was open to them now. No matter how many fucking sessions it would take them, no matter what heights of pleasure they would have to scale, they would record the definitive ‘Nude’. It was the least they could do for their fans.
Crayons and Conundrums
Jonny was sitting on the hard wood floor of his living room transfixed with an art project. Crayons were scattered all around him in a rainbow chaos, and a stack of extra paper was being tossed away one by one by an open window letting the summer air in. His eyes were fixed on the scribbles he made on the page. Swaying his head left and right, he wondered what colors he had actually used to create what was probably an inescapable disaster. He concluded that this was not worthy to give to mommy as a present, when something flew across the room and made contact with his head.
Jonny spun around defensively to see what was thrown and who had done it. A crayon. It was probably Colin again. Its best to ignore that sort of behavior, Jonny thought to himself, and began a new drawing. Once he started to focus again, however, another crayon met with his head.
"Colin! Stop it! Ill tell mummy! She hates when you mess with me while im being quiet!" Jonny posed to listen for a mean reply from Colin, but nothing came. Good, Jonny thought, and continued coloring. He had successfully made a few orange lines connect with some yellow and brown circles and dots, when two crayons flew at him, one hitting his back and the other bouncing off the top of his head. Without turning around, he started yelling behind him. "Colin! I know its you and your not funny! How are you even getting my crayons?" No answer. "Colin?" No answer. "Fine! Your just a girlyface anyway."
Then he heard noise. Laughter. Muffled laughter. "Hah! See? I can here you Colin! Are you laughing because its funny that you are such a girl?" More muffled laughter. Jonny felt like he had the upper hand for once. Stupid Colin. But then Jonny jumped, because after the laughter came silenced coughing, coughing that sounded nothing at all like his brothers. With a jolt of fear, Jonny lept up, sending crayons everywhere, and darted to the couch. On one cushion, in a gargoyle-stance, Jonny tried to find out who the intruder was.
"Who is in there?" From the other room he hears someone clear their throat. Oh, no! Mommy warned me this would happen if i didnt lock the doors behind me after i played outside! Now im going to get kidnapped and ruined! Jonny thought. Of course he had no idea what that meant he just knew his mother made it sound bad, so it was. "G-get out of my house you..."Jonny was looking for a bad word to use to scare the stranger away. "You...um...Bastard!"
Then Jonny heard this persons voice. "OOooooooh, Jonny! You said a curse word! Im going to have to tell on you!" From around the corner Jonny saw a small person appear. He had on the same school uniform as Colin's, because it was Colin's. His hair was messy and his knees where dirty and his tie was all wrong and he was undoubtedly short. Jonny narrowed his eyes with resentment.
"Thom!" Jonny spat his name out like poison. "You-why-I...how di...why w-" Jonny was always at a loss of words when it came to his brother's favorite friend. Colin thought he was the cat's meow, but Jonny hated him. He finally settled on, "Why won't you leave me alone?"
A mischievous grin occupied Thom's face and Jonny held his breath. When Colin did this, it meant that Jonny needed to run, and it certainly applied to Thom because he bolted towards him. Jonny couldn't react fast enough, and when Thom pulled his legs from under him, they both landed roughly on the couch. Smiling Thom had a very Squirmy Jonny pinned. "Let! Go! Let! Go!" Jonny yelped as he could, but Thom held fast. This kept up for a few minutes. Jonny finally stopped wiggling out of exhaustion. "Go...away...Thom..." Jonny breathed. "Hm...no." Thom responded. Jonny made eye contact with Thom and felt incredibly uncomfortable.
"Hey Jonny?" Thom whispered.
"What?" Jonny said suspiciously.
"Hey, Jonny?"
"What?"
"Heeeeeeeey Jonny?"
"WHAT?!?"
"Hey Jonny?"
"WHAT? What is it!?"
Thom made a serious face like he was about to say something bad and Jonny waited to hear it.
"Hey, Jonny."
"GETAWAYFROMME!" Jonny resumed squirming. "Your so silly, Jonny," Thom said and leaned down to kiss him on the cheek.
"Ah! Nooooo! DON'T! THOM! STOP!" Jonny sounded serious. Thom found this priceless. He kissed Jonny on the cheek again. Jonny yelled out. "Well, damn kid, im not burning you or anything," Thom snorted.
"But! Kissing is gross! Mommy says-"
"Mommy says!" Thom mocked and kissed Jonny again.
"Thom stop-"
"Thom stop!" Another kiss.
"Please Thom!"
"Please Jonny!"
This time Jonny turned his head and Thom's lips met with Jonny's. Neither of them moved. When Jonny looked back on this, it was to be the longest kiss he ever had. It was also his first. It was also the best. Jonny finally broke away and took advantage of the time to wiggle free of Thom's grasp.
"You're gross Thom," Jonny said, looking at the floor and hugging himself. Thom was bright red and looked awfully distraught and confused. After sitting there for a while, he slipped off the couch and picked up a blue crayon. He then bend down to a blank piece of paper and scribbled something down. When he stood up he stared at Jonny in a weird way that made him feel like falling down for some reason. Then Thom threw the crayon at Jonny's face and ran. Jonny flinched and stomped his foot with frustration. He picked up the paper that Thom doodled on and looked at it for an hour or so.
it said: Thom + Jonny Forever
Jonny couldn't tell what color it was...
Jonny spun around defensively to see what was thrown and who had done it. A crayon. It was probably Colin again. Its best to ignore that sort of behavior, Jonny thought to himself, and began a new drawing. Once he started to focus again, however, another crayon met with his head.
"Colin! Stop it! Ill tell mummy! She hates when you mess with me while im being quiet!" Jonny posed to listen for a mean reply from Colin, but nothing came. Good, Jonny thought, and continued coloring. He had successfully made a few orange lines connect with some yellow and brown circles and dots, when two crayons flew at him, one hitting his back and the other bouncing off the top of his head. Without turning around, he started yelling behind him. "Colin! I know its you and your not funny! How are you even getting my crayons?" No answer. "Colin?" No answer. "Fine! Your just a girlyface anyway."
Then he heard noise. Laughter. Muffled laughter. "Hah! See? I can here you Colin! Are you laughing because its funny that you are such a girl?" More muffled laughter. Jonny felt like he had the upper hand for once. Stupid Colin. But then Jonny jumped, because after the laughter came silenced coughing, coughing that sounded nothing at all like his brothers. With a jolt of fear, Jonny lept up, sending crayons everywhere, and darted to the couch. On one cushion, in a gargoyle-stance, Jonny tried to find out who the intruder was.
"Who is in there?" From the other room he hears someone clear their throat. Oh, no! Mommy warned me this would happen if i didnt lock the doors behind me after i played outside! Now im going to get kidnapped and ruined! Jonny thought. Of course he had no idea what that meant he just knew his mother made it sound bad, so it was. "G-get out of my house you..."Jonny was looking for a bad word to use to scare the stranger away. "You...um...Bastard!"
Then Jonny heard this persons voice. "OOooooooh, Jonny! You said a curse word! Im going to have to tell on you!" From around the corner Jonny saw a small person appear. He had on the same school uniform as Colin's, because it was Colin's. His hair was messy and his knees where dirty and his tie was all wrong and he was undoubtedly short. Jonny narrowed his eyes with resentment.
"Thom!" Jonny spat his name out like poison. "You-why-I...how di...why w-" Jonny was always at a loss of words when it came to his brother's favorite friend. Colin thought he was the cat's meow, but Jonny hated him. He finally settled on, "Why won't you leave me alone?"
A mischievous grin occupied Thom's face and Jonny held his breath. When Colin did this, it meant that Jonny needed to run, and it certainly applied to Thom because he bolted towards him. Jonny couldn't react fast enough, and when Thom pulled his legs from under him, they both landed roughly on the couch. Smiling Thom had a very Squirmy Jonny pinned. "Let! Go! Let! Go!" Jonny yelped as he could, but Thom held fast. This kept up for a few minutes. Jonny finally stopped wiggling out of exhaustion. "Go...away...Thom..." Jonny breathed. "Hm...no." Thom responded. Jonny made eye contact with Thom and felt incredibly uncomfortable.
"Hey Jonny?" Thom whispered.
"What?" Jonny said suspiciously.
"Hey, Jonny?"
"What?"
"Heeeeeeeey Jonny?"
"WHAT?!?"
"Hey Jonny?"
"WHAT? What is it!?"
Thom made a serious face like he was about to say something bad and Jonny waited to hear it.
"Hey, Jonny."
"GETAWAYFROMME!" Jonny resumed squirming. "Your so silly, Jonny," Thom said and leaned down to kiss him on the cheek.
"Ah! Nooooo! DON'T! THOM! STOP!" Jonny sounded serious. Thom found this priceless. He kissed Jonny on the cheek again. Jonny yelled out. "Well, damn kid, im not burning you or anything," Thom snorted.
"But! Kissing is gross! Mommy says-"
"Mommy says!" Thom mocked and kissed Jonny again.
"Thom stop-"
"Thom stop!" Another kiss.
"Please Thom!"
"Please Jonny!"
This time Jonny turned his head and Thom's lips met with Jonny's. Neither of them moved. When Jonny looked back on this, it was to be the longest kiss he ever had. It was also his first. It was also the best. Jonny finally broke away and took advantage of the time to wiggle free of Thom's grasp.
"You're gross Thom," Jonny said, looking at the floor and hugging himself. Thom was bright red and looked awfully distraught and confused. After sitting there for a while, he slipped off the couch and picked up a blue crayon. He then bend down to a blank piece of paper and scribbled something down. When he stood up he stared at Jonny in a weird way that made him feel like falling down for some reason. Then Thom threw the crayon at Jonny's face and ran. Jonny flinched and stomped his foot with frustration. He picked up the paper that Thom doodled on and looked at it for an hour or so.
it said: Thom + Jonny Forever
Jonny couldn't tell what color it was...
Red-Snapper.
Thom shivered at the sound of the metal spoon hitting the bottom of the porcelain mug.
This is why you should never lose temper, he thought. The sounds you make once enraged are quite nasty, more disgusting than actual actions.
He picked up a mug and crumpled his face when the spoon slid around its inner circumference, creating an even more disturbing sound. He sighed and contemplated turning off the kettle that was heating up, but then thought that in 15 minutes he’d curse himself and go back to kitchen to make that tea. Right. Teabag?
He opened his cabinet and glanced over the many boxes of tea in it – all of them opened, some missing a good half of the tea. The sight warmed him up a bit – he brushed his fingers over Jonny’s favorite, the Wild Orange, and although it would be too sweet and cheery for his state, he decided to go with it.
Dropping the teabag in the mug he remembered Jonny smiling and saying that “You ought to put at least two spoons of honey in it.” Honestly, the tea would taste like fruit punch, and Thom always thought that I wasn’t tea unless there was a hint of bitterness. But you can’t break the Greenwood’s rule, can you? Especially when you are stealing his tea. Thom watched the dark honey glide in the air until it reached the bottom of the mug, sometimes hitting the side and sliding downward slowly. He picked one drop and licked it off the finger, the intense sweetness making him dizzy suddenly.
He sat at the clean empty table, putting his elbows on it and resting his head in his palms. November. No-vem-ber, he whispered inside his head, feeling its echo bounce off his skull. This is when it’s dark and you shiver in the morning light – not because the duvet is too thin, but because you anticipate getting up into the freezing air. November. Thom wondered if suicide rates go up in November – for the past several days he thought that if he had a gun somewhere close he would definitely pick it up and discharge it in his temple. No apparent reason for such action though. It’s just…sometimes you feel like your skin clings to nothing but air inside, and so why not let this air go? Let it mix with the atmosphere and float on top of people’s heads. Play with their hair. Ruin their beautiful cuts and mess up the flowers in their backyards. Caress their porcelain arrogantly beautiful faces.
The water in the kettle reached its boiling point and Thom got up to feel his mug. The vapor hit his cold skin, leaving tiny drops on it and he wiped them with his palm. Stirring his tea, he glanced out the window, sniffling and scratching his collarbone. “Alright, Yorke, here’s your tea…now what?”
He strolled into his leaving room, stretching on his couch and settling the tea next to him on the floor, gazing at the ceiling and trying to erase the blankness from his head. Eventually the ceiling started to spin a little and get fuzzy, and Thom dived into a deep sleep, missing the time when the daylight turned into a twilight and twilight turned into a rich darkness.
“Thom!”
Loud persistent banging.
“Thom, open up! Thom!”
Thom opened his eyes and spent a couple moments panicking, before he realized where he was and what was happening. He got up and rushed to the door, opening it and almost falling over once the person behind it stormed inside, dripping and shivering.
“It is raining, and freezing,” Jonny choked out, taking off his soaked jacket and running his hands through his hair. He stopped his actions for a few seconds and looked at his friend, noticing his far-away eyes and dead facial features, the gleam of life almost invisible. Jonny grasped him by the hand and took him to his kitchen hastily, flicking on the light and looking around. He sat the non-respondent Thom at the table and went back to the front door, closing it and returning with a plastic grocery bag.
Placing the bag on the table, Jonny kneeled in front of Thom, putting his head on his lap and running his hands over his hips, closing his eyes. “Thom,” he breathed out, feeling the small fingers play at the base of his neck, caressing him coyly. Raising his head, Jonny placed several quick kisses on Thom’s face, his cold lips shocking the white skin, but neither pulled back. Jonny caressed his cheeks with his palms, brushing back the pert strands of hair and trying to warm him up a little.
As if remembering something, Jonny got up and emptied the bag, placing several items on the table. He quickly found a pot and sprinkled it with olive oil before emptying a bag of French beans inside and placing it on the fire.
“I’ve got fish,” Jonny turned around, smiling at Thom, “And don’t start with your vegan lectures. It’s light and you’ll feel better after eating it. God, Thom,” Jonny placed his hand on Thom’s cheek and kissed him softly on the lips.
“Hey, Jonny,” Thom smiled at him once they pulled away from each other, “Sorry I’ve been a little out of it.”
“It’s ok,” Jonny nuzzled Thom’s cheek with his nose before getting back to work.
Thom watched in silence how his alien and cold house lit up with every second from Jonny’s radiant presence. It was now quite cozy at the kitchen, especially after Jonny took his sweater off and put it on Thom, sharing his warmth with him. The smell of food and Jonny’s perfume filled the air, and Thom gazed curiously at the walls around him, wondering if they felt their miserable defeat.
Finally Jonny served the table and pulled a chair next to Thom, their knees touching, making the table look ridiculously big. Jonny picked up a piece of fish with his fork and smiled at Thom.
“Open your mouth, love,” he cooed, batting his eyelashes, smile soaking his voice.
Thom’s lips parted and he picked up the food off the fork, not tasting it at first. He was looking into his friend’s eyes and didn’t see Jonny dropping the fork to trace the outline of his jaw with his fingers affectionately. Thom closed his eyes and reveled in the feeling of Jonny’s caress.
“What kind of fish is that?” Thom took Jonny’s hand in his, kissing the fingers softly.
“Red-snapper.”
Jonny’s sheer t-shirt was soaked with tears perspiration. Thom was still shaking, although not as violently as before, and it was easier for Jonny to hold him in his strong embrace. They were lying in the bed in the middle of the night, their bodies being the only heat center under the duvet. Thom was clenching his jaw and tugging on Jonny’s shirt aggressively, almost ripping it, and Jonny was whispering in his ear that it was fine; it would be okay. “I love you, Thom,” he whispered, looking at Thom’s squeezed shut eyes, “I love you. You are my sun. My live, my air,” he was kissing his hair, “My everything, Thom…please stay with me, I love you,” he ducked down, pressing his lips against Thom’s open mouth, tasting salt and saliva. “There,” Jonny smiled against his mouth, “Already better.”
Thom went still, he breathing returning to normal, limbs relaxing. Jonny wiped his sweaty forehead, placing a soft kiss there, before wrapping his arms tightly around his small frame and burying his nose in ginger hair. He knew that when they will wake up, November would be gone.
This is why you should never lose temper, he thought. The sounds you make once enraged are quite nasty, more disgusting than actual actions.
He picked up a mug and crumpled his face when the spoon slid around its inner circumference, creating an even more disturbing sound. He sighed and contemplated turning off the kettle that was heating up, but then thought that in 15 minutes he’d curse himself and go back to kitchen to make that tea. Right. Teabag?
He opened his cabinet and glanced over the many boxes of tea in it – all of them opened, some missing a good half of the tea. The sight warmed him up a bit – he brushed his fingers over Jonny’s favorite, the Wild Orange, and although it would be too sweet and cheery for his state, he decided to go with it.
Dropping the teabag in the mug he remembered Jonny smiling and saying that “You ought to put at least two spoons of honey in it.” Honestly, the tea would taste like fruit punch, and Thom always thought that I wasn’t tea unless there was a hint of bitterness. But you can’t break the Greenwood’s rule, can you? Especially when you are stealing his tea. Thom watched the dark honey glide in the air until it reached the bottom of the mug, sometimes hitting the side and sliding downward slowly. He picked one drop and licked it off the finger, the intense sweetness making him dizzy suddenly.
He sat at the clean empty table, putting his elbows on it and resting his head in his palms. November. No-vem-ber, he whispered inside his head, feeling its echo bounce off his skull. This is when it’s dark and you shiver in the morning light – not because the duvet is too thin, but because you anticipate getting up into the freezing air. November. Thom wondered if suicide rates go up in November – for the past several days he thought that if he had a gun somewhere close he would definitely pick it up and discharge it in his temple. No apparent reason for such action though. It’s just…sometimes you feel like your skin clings to nothing but air inside, and so why not let this air go? Let it mix with the atmosphere and float on top of people’s heads. Play with their hair. Ruin their beautiful cuts and mess up the flowers in their backyards. Caress their porcelain arrogantly beautiful faces.
The water in the kettle reached its boiling point and Thom got up to feel his mug. The vapor hit his cold skin, leaving tiny drops on it and he wiped them with his palm. Stirring his tea, he glanced out the window, sniffling and scratching his collarbone. “Alright, Yorke, here’s your tea…now what?”
He strolled into his leaving room, stretching on his couch and settling the tea next to him on the floor, gazing at the ceiling and trying to erase the blankness from his head. Eventually the ceiling started to spin a little and get fuzzy, and Thom dived into a deep sleep, missing the time when the daylight turned into a twilight and twilight turned into a rich darkness.
..::..
“Thom!”
Loud persistent banging.
“Thom, open up! Thom!”
Thom opened his eyes and spent a couple moments panicking, before he realized where he was and what was happening. He got up and rushed to the door, opening it and almost falling over once the person behind it stormed inside, dripping and shivering.
“It is raining, and freezing,” Jonny choked out, taking off his soaked jacket and running his hands through his hair. He stopped his actions for a few seconds and looked at his friend, noticing his far-away eyes and dead facial features, the gleam of life almost invisible. Jonny grasped him by the hand and took him to his kitchen hastily, flicking on the light and looking around. He sat the non-respondent Thom at the table and went back to the front door, closing it and returning with a plastic grocery bag.
Placing the bag on the table, Jonny kneeled in front of Thom, putting his head on his lap and running his hands over his hips, closing his eyes. “Thom,” he breathed out, feeling the small fingers play at the base of his neck, caressing him coyly. Raising his head, Jonny placed several quick kisses on Thom’s face, his cold lips shocking the white skin, but neither pulled back. Jonny caressed his cheeks with his palms, brushing back the pert strands of hair and trying to warm him up a little.
As if remembering something, Jonny got up and emptied the bag, placing several items on the table. He quickly found a pot and sprinkled it with olive oil before emptying a bag of French beans inside and placing it on the fire.
“I’ve got fish,” Jonny turned around, smiling at Thom, “And don’t start with your vegan lectures. It’s light and you’ll feel better after eating it. God, Thom,” Jonny placed his hand on Thom’s cheek and kissed him softly on the lips.
“Hey, Jonny,” Thom smiled at him once they pulled away from each other, “Sorry I’ve been a little out of it.”
“It’s ok,” Jonny nuzzled Thom’s cheek with his nose before getting back to work.
Thom watched in silence how his alien and cold house lit up with every second from Jonny’s radiant presence. It was now quite cozy at the kitchen, especially after Jonny took his sweater off and put it on Thom, sharing his warmth with him. The smell of food and Jonny’s perfume filled the air, and Thom gazed curiously at the walls around him, wondering if they felt their miserable defeat.
Finally Jonny served the table and pulled a chair next to Thom, their knees touching, making the table look ridiculously big. Jonny picked up a piece of fish with his fork and smiled at Thom.
“Open your mouth, love,” he cooed, batting his eyelashes, smile soaking his voice.
Thom’s lips parted and he picked up the food off the fork, not tasting it at first. He was looking into his friend’s eyes and didn’t see Jonny dropping the fork to trace the outline of his jaw with his fingers affectionately. Thom closed his eyes and reveled in the feeling of Jonny’s caress.
“What kind of fish is that?” Thom took Jonny’s hand in his, kissing the fingers softly.
“Red-snapper.”
..::..
Jonny’s sheer t-shirt was soaked with tears perspiration. Thom was still shaking, although not as violently as before, and it was easier for Jonny to hold him in his strong embrace. They were lying in the bed in the middle of the night, their bodies being the only heat center under the duvet. Thom was clenching his jaw and tugging on Jonny’s shirt aggressively, almost ripping it, and Jonny was whispering in his ear that it was fine; it would be okay. “I love you, Thom,” he whispered, looking at Thom’s squeezed shut eyes, “I love you. You are my sun. My live, my air,” he was kissing his hair, “My everything, Thom…please stay with me, I love you,” he ducked down, pressing his lips against Thom’s open mouth, tasting salt and saliva. “There,” Jonny smiled against his mouth, “Already better.”
Thom went still, he breathing returning to normal, limbs relaxing. Jonny wiped his sweaty forehead, placing a soft kiss there, before wrapping his arms tightly around his small frame and burying his nose in ginger hair. He knew that when they will wake up, November would be gone.
Lost Together
“Where the hell are you?”
“I don’t know really. It’s dark and I haven’t seen any street markings in a while. The place seems familiar though. Hold on,” Thom sighed, listening intently to the muffled car horns and people conversations on the other end, “Okay, there’s a pastry shop. French? Big chubby chef holding a tray in the display window…does it ring a bell?”
“Yeah, I know that place. It’s in Paris though. And we are in Tokyo.”
“Good point,” Jonny sighed and leaned against the side of the building, watching a group of teenagers passing, their nice chat seeming like a biggest confrontation, “And where are you, Thom?”
“Near this pachinko place... I think I’ll go in for a bit, it seems interesting. They have this guitar game…”
“Wow, Thom, this is the best date idea you’ve ever had.”
“Don’t you think it’s romantic? We are lost in the unknown city and…”
“The idea is that we have to be lost together.”
“We are lost together.”
“Thom,” Jonny sighed, rubbing his forehead, “We’ve been on this bloody tour for seven months now and we barely see each other. I mean, we are barely left alone. And this is our first date in a long time…holy fuck…”
“What is it?”
“There are souvenirs from this show, ‘hard gay’…remember I showed you?”
“Um…a guy in leather shorts chasing people on the street?”
“That’s it.”
“Oh, awesome. Buy a couple,” Thom smiled as he heard Jonny snorting on the other side.
“Thom, are you in Shibuya?”
“I’m not sure really, ‘cause I took subway and I got lost couple of times…have you seen the subway map?”
“Yep. It gave me nausea, mild stomach aches and a low self-esteem…Th…Thom, what is it I hear? Oh God, you went in…”
“Haha, Jonny, this DDR looks nice…only you are stuck to one location, no room for expressing yourself…oooh, I found it! Hold on, I’ll send you a picture.”
“No, Thom, wait…” Jonny banged his head on the wall slightly, hearing a clicking sound and cursing under his breathe. In a couple of seconds the display of his phone lit up and he saw Thom holding a fake guitar, pulling his best guitar face. He half-smiled and picked up when his phone started to beep and vibrate again.
“I think we should use that thing for our next record. Or better yet, for a Japanese version of it.”
“Yeah, of course. A Radiohead record for Japanese youth under 20 who spends all their money on the slot machines. I think it should open with a Kid A variation of a Mario theme.”
“Ooh, that would be awesome. Think you can insert a bit of ondes martinet here and there?”
“Yep. Thom, get out of there. I think it’s about time we find each other.”
“Okay,” Thom exited the building and stretched, glad to feel fresh air after the stuffy atmosphere inside. Rubbing his face with his free hand, he looked up at the sky, “Hey, Jonny, I’ve got an idea. We can use the starts to navigate.”
“First we have to find out our location and…well…do you actually know how to use the stars?”
“Not really. Well, the North Star is usually on the North…”
“Aaaah, shut up,” Jonny laughed, “It’s hopeless. Listen, how about this: we go down the subway and agree to meet on the same stop. Then we meet each other. Deal?”
“I think we are going to lose each other forever then.”
“Okay. Call a cab and give the driver the name of the restaurant. I’ll do the same.”
“Oh, that’s brilliant. I see a cab…I’ve got to run…bye Jonny!”
Thom hung up and Jonny looked around himself before noticing a taxi and running up to it. Inside, he patted the driver on the shoulder and tried his best to pronounce the name of the restaurant; leaning back against the seat, he looked out the window on the busy street outside.
..::..
“Hello?” Thom picked up his phone, glad to have any distraction.
“I’m stuck in a traffic.”
“Me too,” Thom moaned, slouching on the seat.
“Maybe it’s the same traffic then? Maybe it would be easier to get out and find each other?”
“You sure?”
“No. But I want to get out.”
“Okay. I’ll call you back.”
Jonny paid the driver and got out of the car, making his way through the rows of honking cars and onto the street. Once safe, he took a picture of the street marking and sent it to Thom. His phone beeped once again.
“Mate, I’m on the same street!”
“Okay, let’s just walk then…maybe we’ll bump into each other or something.”
“Right.”
They were silent for a minute, walking and looking around themselves carefully.
“Maybe I should wear some kind of bright hat so you would notice me.”
“I think I can recognize a blonde English bloke among brunette Japanese, thank you very much,” Jonny mocked, smiling into the receiver.
“Okay then, I’ll wear a hat and sunglasses so it would be hard for you to see me…and if you really love me, you should be able to recognize me in one instant.”
“I’ll do the same then…”
“Oh but Jonny, you are way too easy. You’re taller than most of the people here, ‘t won’t be hard to spot you.”
“Yorke, you are paying for the food tonight.”
“My oh my, Jonny, it’s quite easy to get you. But I must say that I love it when you are angry and all ready to get back at me.”
“I’ll be extra sugary then.”
“Minx.”
“At your service.”
Simultaneously, they both grinned and looked down at the ground.
“So when we get back to England…”
“Yes?” Thom pushed the receiver closer to his ear, sensing a note of seriousness in Jonny’s voice.
“Oooh, somebody is interested in what I have to say,” Jonny bit his lip, his eyes sparkling.
“What gave you that idea?”
“Oh so you are not? Okay, never mind then.”
“Jonny!”
“Okay, okay,” Jonny laughed, stuffing his hand in his pocket nervously, fumbling with the change inside, “I was thinking, maybe we should get an apartment for us.”
“Oh,” Thom swallowed, “You mean we should move in?”
“Yeeeah…unless you think it’s too early.”
Thom smiled and stopped walking for a second, composing himself. He looked up and saw Jonny in the crowd, approaching him, his head down, listening intently to the phone.
“You know,” Thom started to walk slowly toward Jonny, keeping his head down and peeking from time to time, “I really think,” he clenched his jaw, feeling his palms getting sweaty, “I really think that…” he turned off the phone suddenly and stuffed it in his pocket.
Jonny stopped abruptly, looking down at his mobile and pushing his eyebrows together, frustration running in his veins. He raised his head up and was met by a pair of blue eyes looking directly at him.
“I really think that it’s a great idea.”
“I don’t know really. It’s dark and I haven’t seen any street markings in a while. The place seems familiar though. Hold on,” Thom sighed, listening intently to the muffled car horns and people conversations on the other end, “Okay, there’s a pastry shop. French? Big chubby chef holding a tray in the display window…does it ring a bell?”
“Yeah, I know that place. It’s in Paris though. And we are in Tokyo.”
“Good point,” Jonny sighed and leaned against the side of the building, watching a group of teenagers passing, their nice chat seeming like a biggest confrontation, “And where are you, Thom?”
“Near this pachinko place... I think I’ll go in for a bit, it seems interesting. They have this guitar game…”
“Wow, Thom, this is the best date idea you’ve ever had.”
“Don’t you think it’s romantic? We are lost in the unknown city and…”
“The idea is that we have to be lost together.”
“We are lost together.”
“Thom,” Jonny sighed, rubbing his forehead, “We’ve been on this bloody tour for seven months now and we barely see each other. I mean, we are barely left alone. And this is our first date in a long time…holy fuck…”
“What is it?”
“There are souvenirs from this show, ‘hard gay’…remember I showed you?”
“Um…a guy in leather shorts chasing people on the street?”
“That’s it.”
“Oh, awesome. Buy a couple,” Thom smiled as he heard Jonny snorting on the other side.
“Thom, are you in Shibuya?”
“I’m not sure really, ‘cause I took subway and I got lost couple of times…have you seen the subway map?”
“Yep. It gave me nausea, mild stomach aches and a low self-esteem…Th…Thom, what is it I hear? Oh God, you went in…”
“Haha, Jonny, this DDR looks nice…only you are stuck to one location, no room for expressing yourself…oooh, I found it! Hold on, I’ll send you a picture.”
“No, Thom, wait…” Jonny banged his head on the wall slightly, hearing a clicking sound and cursing under his breathe. In a couple of seconds the display of his phone lit up and he saw Thom holding a fake guitar, pulling his best guitar face. He half-smiled and picked up when his phone started to beep and vibrate again.
“I think we should use that thing for our next record. Or better yet, for a Japanese version of it.”
“Yeah, of course. A Radiohead record for Japanese youth under 20 who spends all their money on the slot machines. I think it should open with a Kid A variation of a Mario theme.”
“Ooh, that would be awesome. Think you can insert a bit of ondes martinet here and there?”
“Yep. Thom, get out of there. I think it’s about time we find each other.”
“Okay,” Thom exited the building and stretched, glad to feel fresh air after the stuffy atmosphere inside. Rubbing his face with his free hand, he looked up at the sky, “Hey, Jonny, I’ve got an idea. We can use the starts to navigate.”
“First we have to find out our location and…well…do you actually know how to use the stars?”
“Not really. Well, the North Star is usually on the North…”
“Aaaah, shut up,” Jonny laughed, “It’s hopeless. Listen, how about this: we go down the subway and agree to meet on the same stop. Then we meet each other. Deal?”
“I think we are going to lose each other forever then.”
“Okay. Call a cab and give the driver the name of the restaurant. I’ll do the same.”
“Oh, that’s brilliant. I see a cab…I’ve got to run…bye Jonny!”
Thom hung up and Jonny looked around himself before noticing a taxi and running up to it. Inside, he patted the driver on the shoulder and tried his best to pronounce the name of the restaurant; leaning back against the seat, he looked out the window on the busy street outside.
..::..
“Hello?” Thom picked up his phone, glad to have any distraction.
“I’m stuck in a traffic.”
“Me too,” Thom moaned, slouching on the seat.
“Maybe it’s the same traffic then? Maybe it would be easier to get out and find each other?”
“You sure?”
“No. But I want to get out.”
“Okay. I’ll call you back.”
Jonny paid the driver and got out of the car, making his way through the rows of honking cars and onto the street. Once safe, he took a picture of the street marking and sent it to Thom. His phone beeped once again.
“Mate, I’m on the same street!”
“Okay, let’s just walk then…maybe we’ll bump into each other or something.”
“Right.”
They were silent for a minute, walking and looking around themselves carefully.
“Maybe I should wear some kind of bright hat so you would notice me.”
“I think I can recognize a blonde English bloke among brunette Japanese, thank you very much,” Jonny mocked, smiling into the receiver.
“Okay then, I’ll wear a hat and sunglasses so it would be hard for you to see me…and if you really love me, you should be able to recognize me in one instant.”
“I’ll do the same then…”
“Oh but Jonny, you are way too easy. You’re taller than most of the people here, ‘t won’t be hard to spot you.”
“Yorke, you are paying for the food tonight.”
“My oh my, Jonny, it’s quite easy to get you. But I must say that I love it when you are angry and all ready to get back at me.”
“I’ll be extra sugary then.”
“Minx.”
“At your service.”
Simultaneously, they both grinned and looked down at the ground.
“So when we get back to England…”
“Yes?” Thom pushed the receiver closer to his ear, sensing a note of seriousness in Jonny’s voice.
“Oooh, somebody is interested in what I have to say,” Jonny bit his lip, his eyes sparkling.
“What gave you that idea?”
“Oh so you are not? Okay, never mind then.”
“Jonny!”
“Okay, okay,” Jonny laughed, stuffing his hand in his pocket nervously, fumbling with the change inside, “I was thinking, maybe we should get an apartment for us.”
“Oh,” Thom swallowed, “You mean we should move in?”
“Yeeeah…unless you think it’s too early.”
Thom smiled and stopped walking for a second, composing himself. He looked up and saw Jonny in the crowd, approaching him, his head down, listening intently to the phone.
“You know,” Thom started to walk slowly toward Jonny, keeping his head down and peeking from time to time, “I really think,” he clenched his jaw, feeling his palms getting sweaty, “I really think that…” he turned off the phone suddenly and stuffed it in his pocket.
Jonny stopped abruptly, looking down at his mobile and pushing his eyebrows together, frustration running in his veins. He raised his head up and was met by a pair of blue eyes looking directly at him.
“I really think that it’s a great idea.”
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