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When John pauses, Simon stops, too.
That's what he likes about Simon — he never insists. He never pushes, not when John's 'no's are definite.
John doesn't know how he does it, if there's something in his voice or in his face whenever he's having second thoughts about saying no and Simon always catches it, but it has happened every time John needs someone to push him in the right direction, into the decision he wants to take.
And he's such a great guy — he's sweet and caring and goes out of his way to make John comfortable, always searching to make him happy, even if John is too much. He's always so much, he has been told by every of his partners. And he doesn't want Simon to tell him too. He doesn't want to be too much for him, so much Simon decides he's better without him.
"Johnny?"
John blinks, meeting Simon's attentive gaze. He's been quiet ever since John stopped their make out session without prompt or explanation.
That's another thing he likes about Simon — he's silent but knows when to ask, when to press.
He doesn't this time.
"Want a drink?" He asks instead and John nods, grateful for the breather as Simon gets up from the couch and walks to the kitchen, leaving him alone to think.
"Feckin' stupid," he hisses, slapping his forehead. "Yer so..."
He closes his eyes, pressing the heel of his hands against his brow.
For how long can he keep this up? How long until Simon decides he's not worth it?
What kind of boyfriend doesn't put out?
They've been together a few weeks but it's only a matter of time — Simon is only so patient.
John has to snap out of it.
But then days later he's in the same position — on Simon's couch, with his lips on his, pulling at their clothes.
And John stops. Yet again.
They were having a good time. They had a nice date, with lots of flirting and tons of touching. Now John is on Simon's lap, kissing the breathing lights out of him, and then it gets too heated and instead of John's mind being clouded in pleasure, it swirls with his anxiety.
He just can't. There's a ton of problems that unravel in his mind — that he'll be too needy, too whiny, too much, and Simon will walk away. If not now, soon enough. And John will have to cope by himself with pieces of his heart, broken beyond repair.
"Johnny," Simon whispers but it's not questioning. John wonders if it has something to do with how many times this has happened already. If Simon is already curious on what's wrong.
If this is it.
"Yeah?" John manages, feeling his voice so thin it might break.
"What's wrong?"
It's not said as an accusation. There's no anger in his tone. He's worried, John realizes. He's concerned by his contradictory actions.
"I... I'm not sure," John admits. Or lies. Mostly lies. "I just..."
A warm hand soothes up his side. John tries to breathe.
"Johnny," Simon murmurs, cupping his cheek and thumbing over the crest of it. "It's okay."
John swallows down a whimper, tilting towards his palm. He doesn't know what he means — if it's okay to stop, if it's okay to want it, if it's okay to be this mess-
"Si..."
"Yes?"
John closes his eyes. "I don't..." He swallows.
"What?" He whispers it, nosing along his jawline, sliding his lips over his neck. "What, Johnny?"
John almost lets out a whine.
"I... don't..." He bites his lips. "Want..."
Simon pauses, his hands soothing down his chest.
"You don't," he mutters, more to himself rather than to John. "What, Johnny? To stop? To keep going?"
John takes a deep breath. "I..."
What if he says yes to both? What if it's no to both? What if he's going insane?
Simon's eyes flutter as he leans to kiss John's cheek.
John feels like crying. "Stop."
He feels Simon's lips pursue in a line against his skin and he kind of wants to die.
"Stop," Simon repeats, and the word hurts more than when John said it. "Okay."
John inhales sharply and desperately meets Simon's gaze. "I- Really?"
Simon tilts his head. "Of course, Johnny. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. Not with me."
Johnny takes another big breath, feeling relieved even if a little disappointed.
"I- Okay..."
Simon's mouth twitches in a quick smile, but it doesn't put John at ease.
"Just..." he mutters, his hands sliding down to John's hips, catching them before they grind down on him. Only then John realizes he's been moving against him subtly, grinding down on his thigh. "Lie to me all you want."
John gasps, eyes wide on Simon's smug gaze.
"But you can't lie to yourself, Johnny."
John whimpers, this time not being strong enough to keep it down. "I-I-"
"What do you want, Johnny?" Simon asks, knows, with the way he pulls John into his lap. He's hard and John can't believe he was so into his head to notice until then, when he presses it against his hip. "I'll give you anything."
John's mouth wobbles, feeling so out in the open all of the sudden. So vulnerable and fragile and needy without intending to.
"I-I want you," he whispers, admits to Simon and to himself, "B-but I'm just- What if I-"
"Johnny," Simon cuts him off softly. "I want you, too."
And it might be just an easy statement to make. It might be just words one says in these situations. To keep the mood, to turn the other party on, to get something in return.
But John can see it in Simon's eyes, how true and in how many levels. It's not just to get into his pants, or to just rub one out.
It's a gentle thing, a devoted one. A promise and a vow. Something that tells him Simon is with him for the long haul. Not for just one night. Not just for a couple of hook ups.
It makes John want to risk everything. Show himself in ways he hasn't for a long time.
See if it's true. If Simon can truly manage him, or at least he's willing to try.
He wants this.
"Si..." John whispers, squeezing Simon's wide shoulders, leaning more into his space. "P-please..."
Simon's eyes glint then, burning John from inside out.
"Of course, Johnny."
He expects the slow and steady thing simmering between to snap. For Simon's patience to be thrown away and their clothes be ripped off with it. What he doesn't expect is Simon kissing him as sweet and soft as the first time they kissed. Just lips to lips, breath shaking, hands touching carefully, testing the waters on what it could be.
By the time Simon pulls away, John feels awfully breathless, face burning for something he didn't know he could wish for.
"We can stop anytime," Simon whispers, reassuring, and John lets out a sigh.
"Thank you, Si," he mutters back and leans to kiss him again.
Simon complies quickly, the kiss going from chaste to filthy in matter of seconds, and soon John is once again moving his hips again's Simon's.
"I-" he grunts, pressing his forehead to Simon's so they stop eating each other's faces for a second. "Pants."
Simon's eyes flicker down to John's hands, clumsily trying to get their belts off, and pausing when his fingers wrap around his wrists.
"Let me."
John inhales sharply and lets go of the belt, watching with rapt attention how Simon efficiently unbuckles it. He doesn't know how the fuck he does it so calmly about it, he's so fucking hard John can almost see him twitch through his pants.
But maybe it's just how it is with him. Maybe Simon doesn't need him as much as John needs him. Maybe it's not normal for John to want so much, so soon-
"What is it?"
John flinches and tries not to feel embarrassed about staring at the very obvious bulge on Simon's pants. "I- uh-"
Simon cups his cheek then, making John meet his gaze.
"Come here, darling."
The hand on John's lower back pulls him more into Simon's space and the front of his crotch finally makes contact.
"A-ah," John can barely swallow down, holding unto Simon's shoulders for dear life. "Simon-"
"Please, Johnny," Simon whispers into John's trembling mouth, "I want you. All of you. Let me have you."
Dark thoughts of him being too much, too needy, lurk at the back of his head. Fear of going to far out with his desires might make this perfect little thing with Simon to vanish.
But Simon's eyes are louder than any of his thoughts.
John takes a breath and nods. "You have me."
It's difficult to maneuver to get his pants off without getting off Simon's lap, but they manage.
Just as Simon proves he can manage him.