Entry tags:

chamber, iceman

Log: Iceman & Chamber
Who: Bobby Drake & Jono Starsmore
When: Backdated February 16, 2009
Where: Jono's room
What: Bobby is not in a good mood and Jono just makes it worse before Bobby gets his revenge.
Status: complete
Rating: R

"For the love of fucking Christ!" Bobby shouted inside his room, hopping up and going to the door. He was in an irritable mood and even though he had tried to put his own music in his ears, Jono strumming on his goddamned guitar was like nails on a chalkboard. Logan had been especially rough on his during training that day for absolutely no other reason than he could be and it had left Bobby with a bruise on his right side from where he had fallen three stories in his ice form from a slide that hadn't properly formed. Bobby was be ginning to think he was just destined to be black and blue forever - instead of just ice blue.

Half clothed - since Bobby had been planning on going to sleep forty-five minutes ago, he banged loudly on Jono's door. "Stupid Brit! Can't you shut the fuck up for ten minutes so I can get to sleep without hearing you pick at those mother fuckin' cat guts?"

It hadn't been the best of days for Jono Starsmore either. He didn't train like Bibby did, had no interest in being an 'X-Man' and saving the world. Fuck the world. What had it ever done for him? Instead, he'd spent his day like most, doing whatever the fuck he wanted to. What had made this day a shade worse than the average day for Jono had been when he'd checked his email about three hours ago, seeing a notice inside for him to report downstairs first thing in the morning for his monthly array of medical tests. The sadists who took care of the school's medical needs found itnecessary to put Jono through an uncomfortable series of tests every month to check up on his 'condition' as they called it, making sure that his power wasn't fluxing dangerously. When he'd spent time at Muir, MacTaggert had become convinced that it was only a matter of time before he incurred some kind of serious injury from his power. So now he would have to go through an upper and lower GI test, he'd have blood taken, provide piss and stool samples, and even jack it in a cup for them to analyze. And what did this all prove? Nothing, as far as Jono was concerned, other than being an uncomfortable, horrible waste of time that left him nerve wracked and miserable afterward. Even just thinking about it was enough to bring down his mood considerably. So he tried to calm his nerves with half a pack of cigarettes and a third of a bottle of rum he'd had under his bed. And after that, he felt a little better, and was able to continue keeping his calm by losing himself in music. Jono skillfully plucked at the strings, not for practice, but purely for enjoyment. He was feeling better, much better, then...

The melody he was playing abruptly fumbled when the loud pounding on the door commenced. "The fuck?", he said aloud, glaring at the door. He heard Bobby's voice from the other side, sounding quite pissed off. For the most part, Jono'd never had a problem with Drake. But now he was sounding like he was wanting to pick a fight. And Jono wasn't feeling like dealing with this. He carefully set the guitar aside before standing and crossing the room, noting how cold the floor felt on his bare feet. He'd have to turn up the thermostat a bit. Either that, or put on something more than a pair of boxers and a wifebeater.

The door opened just enough for Jono's head to show through. "The 'ell's yer problem, Drake?", he said, his tone not quite matching Bobby's, but still notably agitated. His facial expression matched his question, he did look irritated by the interruption and the rudeness, but he could be more angry than he was, considering.

Boohoo, all of them had to deal with tests. Jono wasn't all that special or anything. "You see this?" He pointed to his side where the bruise was just getting settled into its nice shade of purple. "This happened to me today. During practice. You know that thing you don't participate in but would get ten kinds of pussy-whipped if we didn't and then something happened to you. Yeah, and know what? Ice doesn't really fucking help it because I'm too used to ice. All I want is some peace and fucking quiet but you've been picking at those chords like you're flickin' a twat for the last...what? two hours? I'm just fuckin' lucky that I don't have super hearing or I would've jumped out of my goddamn window instead of listening to your sad crooning fuckin' picking. So please. Just give it a fuckin' break so that a brotha can get some sleep before I have to go back in two days and practice on how to safe your scrawny ass again."

Misdirected? Probably, but hell, Bobby was in a piss poor mood and some of that came from not being able to get a decent amount of sleep. He was aware that in his agitated state, the cold was more than likely rolling off him, but he never noticed it - his nipples were always hard no matter how many layers he had on. "Look," he said, quieter, hands scrubbing against his face, managing to pull a slim bandage that had been taped across a cut on his cheek. "Sorry, but I'm fuckin' tired. Could you give it a break for the night?"

As Bobby ranted, and Jono let him go on and say what he needed to before Jono started in on him, he felt like his blood was boiling and there was undoubtedly some color rushing to his face. The cold that Bobby was giving off was an odd contrast to the heated things that were coming out of his mouth, and the chill air was having a slightly cooling effect on Jono as well, enough that when Bobby did pause in his speech, Jono didn't jump in right away. And that was probably for the best, as when Bobby spoke again, he seemed a little more subdued, even apologizing. Shit. He just had to apologize. That made it harder for Jono to feel justified in saying all the smart assed, hostile things his mind had cooked up for him to say in the past few moments.

When Bobby was finished, Jono looked him in the eyes, not a glare, but an intense look nonetheless. "I appreciate yer had a rough day", Jono started, his tone of voice low and even, a warning sort of tone that he'd heard his mother use when he was a boy that had quite scared the shit out of him at the time. That wasn't his intention in using that tone now, it was just how he sounded, trying to rein in his flux of anger he was feeling. "But if yer talk at me like that again, I'mgonna 'and yer ass to you, understand?" He paused long enough to sigh, a hand coming up to his chest unconsciously as he continued, palming a pec as his chest was starting to feel a bit chilled, his nipple a rough nub against his palm. "I'll quit fer tonight, that's fine. I can jus' finish off m'booze tonight instead. Care f'r some? It'll help you sleep."

Maybe Bobby had been out of line, but he had been trying to ignore it - try to let Jono play out his wounded, emo heart, but he really didn't have it in him today to just let it keep happening. He'd blown up, he felt better. His hand scrubbed back over his closely-cropped blond hair and let his hands entwine at the back of his neck. He met Jono's gaze and couldn't help but sneer at the threat. "Remember, Jono, I'm the one in training. Unless you plan on being lazy to beat me in a contest of slothness, you wouldn't win." It wasn't really a crack about Jono, but just the truth as Bobby saw it. "Yeah - you probably just want me to cool it down for you." Bobby let his hands drop down, sliding around Jono and making himself at home. It was a usual occurrence that Jono got hard around him, but those jokes had run their course a while ago.

Plopping down on Jono's bed, Bobby swept the bottle into his palm, fingers wrapping around it. After a sniff - because some of the things that Jono put into his body could kill a man if there was too much drinking done, Bobby was sure - he whistled down into the mouth of the bottle, frost covering the neck and creeping down the bottle. Taking a sip, Bobby scooted over to the side of the bed by the desk, propping his back against it, one foot on the floor, the other resting on the rumpled bed cover. He gave it a second of thought (managing to snag another swig of the rum) before he offered it out. "Got your tests and shit tomorrow, right?" The music always lasted longer on the nights before.

The truth the way Bobby saw it wasn't the truth the way Jono saw it. The way Jono saw it, Bobby wouldn't be the first smug, overconfident punk who he wiped the floor with. But Jono really had no desire to fight Bobby, even though Bobby's words had been vastlyunnecessary, just serving to re-aggravate Jono's bad mood. "You keep on thinkin' that, Sunshine", Jono said, mirroring the sneer back at Bobby. And while Jono had a certain admiration for Bobby's body, he did tend to keep it low-key, not wanting toinflame an ego that he saw as being already too big. He felt enough of a comfort around Bobby, though, aggravated or not, that he didn't argue the familiar hands.

Jono followed Bobby into his room, watched Bobby help himself to the bottle, the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth, just enough to make dimples start to form at his cheeks, something that bugged him, even though others tended to find them endearing. "Don't freeze the shit solid", he said as he watched Bobby swig. After the near-confrontation, he still felt the need to bust Bobby's balls at least a little bit. Jono walked over, sitting beside Bobby, his rear on the edge of the bed. He was leaning forward, resting his arms on his knees, gladly taking the bottle back when offered. He could use another drink.

Jono wasn't sure how Bobby'd figured what was bugging him, but he nodded in agreement about the tests. He took a swig before answering, "Yeah, get to be a test dummy tomorrow", he said, rolling his eyes. He didn't make that big a deal about it to others, despite really hating it. He was especially non-talkative about it around Bobby, though the other man had obviously caught on about it somehow. Jono was in a bad enough mood as it was, he didn't want to be aggravated further by others ragging on him about it. "No big deal, suppose they'd all be outta jobs down there if it weren't f'r me. I'm doin' them all a service, really, by lettin' them have their way with me."

"Hard to make booze into a liquid. Well, not for me, but why would I go on do that - especially since you're kind enough t'share." Bobby was probably too comfortable in Jono's room, but besides his own, it was probably the room he spent the most time in - besides the bathroom. "Monkey, not dummy," Bobby corrected, but softly. At least, that was what the people in the States called it. "I...just know, because I was walking by last time and....well, heard you cussin' at someone. 'Bout this time last month. I...didn't stick around," Bobby made sure to add, because he hadn't - especially when Jono had raised a stink about having to take a dump in a beaker.

Those kinds of tests were never fun, and even Bobby wouldn't rag him about it. "I guess you're takin' one for all'a us too, huh?" And he was grateful. He'd gone through a slew of tests when he was suddenly all ice and...couldn't turn back. It had definitely sucked. "So...thanks." In gratitude and to lighten the mood, Bobby grabbed the bottle back from Jono with a smirk. He chuckled some as he stayed leaned in and took a deep drink. Even with his body chemistry, he could feel the warmth of the booze, but only for a moment.

"Good", Jono said, glad to see Bobby saw it his way. It'd be a shame to make some perfectly good rum undrinkable. He took another short drink, eyes looking to Bobby at his side when Bobby mentionedsomething about a monkey. "Test... monkey? Well, whatever the fuck it is, that's wot I am to them." Totally not true, and Jono knew it. They were trying to help him by doing what they did to him monthly. Who knows, maybe they actually were helping. He laughed a little, a small smile gracing his face when Bobby mentioned hearing him cussing last month. "That coulda been about most anything", he replied. "That's about all they hear outta me all day long when I'm down there." He was trying to make light of it, and it was working for the most part.

He rolled his eyes when Bobby started laying it on thick with the giving of thanks. "I see how y'are, tryin' ta sweet talkcher way into wotever you want here, huh?", he said, watching Bobby take another swig. Not that Jono was about to deny Bobby the drink after he'd offered it. And he really didn't mind sharing, it was an unspoken thing that the students would do, share when they had it, and they knew others would share theirs at another time.


"What d'ya mean 'when you're down there?" That's pretty much all we ever hear everyday with you - bitchin' and moaning, woe-is-mein'." Bobby said jovially, glad to see that at least, maybe Jono could laugh at himself and Bobby could get him in a better mood. After his swig, though, Bobby promptly handed the bottle back, leaning with his hands against the back of his head again. He sighed contently, his liver not up to par with Jono's, and since he had burned off whatever food he'd eaten during practice, if he didn't stop when he did, there'd be a big ol' hangover come the morning.

He nodded his head toward the tats on Jono's arm. "Still workin' for you? No idea why you got stars, but...I guess not a whole helluva lot thought goes into tattoos sometimes though." His hand reached behind his beck and slapped his own awful cross on his arm. It wasn't poorly done, of course, but why he had decided on a cross like that - or any cross, for that matter - was a mystery to him. "And I don't mean to play mother hen or some shit, but should you drinkin' before you get poked and prodded...by equipment?" Maybe turning Jono in would get him some points with Logan...

"Wot-the-fuck-ever", Jono said to Bobby's teasing about bitching, but laughing good naturedly about it. The harassing one another had taken on a less serious tone now, and Jono was more content with it being that way. He gladly took the bottle back from Bobby. He was feeling quite a buzz by now, it would have been worse if he hadn't been drinking this over several hours. And Bobby was right, it wasn't the best idea to be doing this, but Jono wasn't about to let them tell him what to do.

Jono looked to his arm, eyeing the tattooed stars that ran around his forearm. "I don' mind 'em", he said. "And you know damned well why I got 'em." He'd been drunk off his ass that night, that was why. And he'd seen stars and decided that he'd get five, to symbolize his five star status or some drunken bullshit like that. He watched Bobby accentuate his own inkwork, and his arms as well as he stretched and flexed them. Bobby did have some damn fine arms...

"You worryin' about me, Drake?", Jono asked, amused. "The Doctor said no food or drink after midnight. It ain't midnight yet, is it?" he asked, gesturing toward the alarm clock with the arm not holding the bottle. The clock read that it was about a quarter past eleven. "Is it that late?", Jono asked aloud. No wonder Drake had been pissed about the music. "You wouldn't deny me my last meal, would you?" Not that rum was much of a meal. After one more swig, he pushed the bottle back into Bobby's arms, reaching down to the floor to fetch his pack of cigarettes. His shirt stretched up a bit and his boxers down just slightly as he bent for them. He sat back up, still leaning over slightly as he pulled his lighter out of the pack where he'd stashed it and a cigarette, about to light up, when he looked over at Bobby, saying, "You mind?"

That had been some night. Bobby had figured, somewhere in his drunken mind, that Jono deserved to have a tattoo just as awful as his own was -but Jono had picked the stars, which weren't as bad a frickin' cross. "Yeah...that late. Minus about eight minutes and that was when I was bangin' on your door Ol' Blue Eyes." Yes, Bobby knew that the actual old blue eyes didn't play guitar, but it was the closest thing he could come up with in his slowly-inebriating state.

His right eyebrow lifted on his forehead as Starsmore leaned down. It wasn't a sight that was new to Bobby, but it sure was appreciated. As the other settled back down, Bobby let his arms fall down into his lap, shrugging some. "Just don't breathe it on me or you'll have an icicle inyour mouth with a soggy cig in the middle." Bobby might actually take a hit off that - he didn't smoke, Logan could smell it on him at thirty paces, but just one hit while they were drinking he'd just have to shower for a long while afterward. And brush his teeth with bleach. That should do it. "But first, lemme get the window." He got himself up off the bed as if it were a chore, and cracked the window up just a bit. The cold didn't bother him, but he still moved quickly back to the bed, pulling his sweat pants up on one side before sitting back down and kissing the bottle for a little more of the fermented nectar.
"Right", Jono said, smirking as he was reminded of Bobby's ranting just a few minutes ago. He'd wanted to punch him, and now they were thick as thieves. But friends were like that sometimes. Jono lit up, taking a drag off it and turning his head away from Bobby to blow out the smoke. "Don't worry yerself, Precious", Jono teased as Bobby complained about not wanting smoke in his face. "I wouldn't want ter hurt yer sweet little lungs." He laughed as Bobby went for the window. "Now there's a smart idea", he said as Bobby pushed it up and open a little. Jono's eyes were back on the arms as Bobby cracked the window, watching him walk back over. Just about the time Bobby sat back down, Jono had a full body shiver. "Shite it's cold out there", he said, glaring at the window. He turned toward Bobby, his free hand reaching behind him to where a small blanket was wadded up. Jono grabbed it, sticking his cigarette in his mouth while he pulled the blanket around his shoulders, then draping it over his legs, tucking at it a little bit to get it to stay in place. "Tha's better", he murmured. "Don't know how you can stand it alla time."

A snort left his nose as Bobby rolled his eyes. "Yeah well, you don't have to deal with Logan three or so days a week and if he smells smoke on me, it's my ass doing suicides and it'll be your ass that I kick down the road. And besides that, if I end up gettin' a cough fit in the middle of battle savin' your scrawny British ass, you'd end up payin' for it, not me." When the blanket was taken from behind him, Bobby couldn't help but exhale just a little, letting the chill work over the inside of Jono's forearm. "Well, not like I have much of a choice in it, you know? I can't just decide one day to not be a solid brick of ice....but you should know better than some how I can warm you up." He winked and took another swig from the bottle. Scooting a bit closer, Bobby eased his hand forward and took the cigarette out of Jono's mouth, flipping it around and inhaling on it. He didn't exhale outward, but let the smoke drip up his face before inhaling back through his nostrils. The smoke came out the second time in a cloud of smoke, up into the air above them. Turning the smoke around, he pushed it forward toward Jono. "I'm gonna blame that one on you, cool?"

"I dunno why yer thinkin' my arse'll need savin'", Jono said, taking another drag as he sat there. "I got nothin' to do with yer X-Mening bullshit. And the last time I was in anything close to a battle was when the school was raided, and from wot I heard you were halfway to Boston with yer tail tucked between yer legs before I even knew wot was going on." Jono shivered, whether it was from the cold of Bobby and the window or from memories of that time, he wasn't sure, but he'd suddenly gotten goosebumps up his arm. He did remember fleeing the school with everyone else, the long, cold, dank tunnels leading to precarious safety some ways away. He remembered waiting for hours on end with the mass of students, not sure if they'd be safe or if they'd suddenly be overrun by the armed commandos. Not at all fun times.

Jono felt a bit bad about the cold comment he'd made after hearing Bobby remind him he didn't have a choice in it, just like Jono didn't have a choice in all the stupid tests he was put through. Actually, Jono did have a choice, he could tell them to fuck off altogether and not even submit to any tests, but he did go along with it. Probably because even though he wouldn't admit it, he really feared that MacTaggert and the others were right about his powers. That he was some kind of ticking timebomb, waiting to go off.

"My turn", Jono said, grabbing the bottle after Bobby'd finished his drink as Bobby took the cigarette. "This'll warm me up a bit", Jono said, taking a deep drink of it this time. When the bottle finally left his lips, he could swear the room was starting to wiggle just a little bit. Nice. "And if you got any other bright idears of how to keep warm, I'm all ears." He put that out there, knowing exactly what Bobby was talking about. When Jono got it in his mind, like he had tonight, to go to all excesses with his behavior, there wasn't much anything he wouldn't turn down or wouldn't do. And it wasn't like Jono was that bothered by the cold. He was bothered, but knew he wasn't going to catch ill from it or anything. He hadn't caught a cold for years, and his own constantly feverish internal temperature was enough to keep him warm.

When the cigarette was offered back to him, Jono said, "The fuck yer gonna blame that on me." He parted his lips just slightly, feeling Bobby's fingers brush against them as he placed the cigarette back between them. His wide eyes were on Bobby as he reached a hand up, the blanket sliding off a shoulder as he took another drag off it himself before taking it and putting it out on an ashtray on the floor. "Enough of that, wouldn't want Logan to be takin' it outta yer hide", he said quietly. His eyes moved down to the bruise on Bobby's side. "Yer oughtta be more careful out there." Now he was being a bit of a mother hen. He really didn't get the concept of risking life and limb as an X-Men, he knew it wasn't a life for him, and he didn't want to be seeing anyone he'd consider a friend getting hurt or worse in the line of duty.

"You know, technically, liquor doesn't warm a person up - it constricts the blood vessels." At least, that was what Bobby had heard on an old episode of Family Guy. Not that it was a whole lot of a defense to the statement, Bobby just wanted to be contradictory.With a sigh, Booby looked down at his side, crossing his neck over his bicep to get a good look at it. "I was being careful - just lost my concentration and the stupid ice slide deal didn't stay with me." Bobby shrugged, wanting to play it off.

"Just think though, if I wasn't in my ice form, I would have probably cracked something...or worse, and you'd still be up here strumming your gee-tar and drinking by yourself." Bobby leaned closer to Jono, a white puff coming out when he spoke, "Isn't this a lot better?" Bobby's hand snaked under the blanket, his digits finding Jono's thin leg with the bulging kneecap hinged to it. "You really are a bony guy, Starsmore," he said quietly, looking at his buddy and trying to concentrate so his touch wasn'tArctic . The hand slipped up and around, brushing the material of his boxers before coming out the top of the blanket, snatching the bottle and pulling his arm out sideways to keep the bottle from going down into the blanket. "Looks like it's almost midnight...maybe I should finish this up for you, eh?"

"How'dja lose yer concentration?", Jono asked. "Yer usually wound pretty tight when doing yer training bullshit." He wasn't ragging on Bobby, he was just curious about it. "It's good you can do yer ice thing and give yerself a thicker skin. You woulda been a right mess otherwise." He smiled just for an instant then it was gone again as he felt the touch. "Yeah, that's a touch better."

"Who the fuck are you now, that science guy on TV, whuddever the fuck 'is name is?" Jono said about the blood vessel comment. He didn't remember who 'that science guy' was, he'd seen some of the younger kids watching it before. All Jono knew was that he did feel a little warmer, he didn't care why. "Maybe you should finish that up, you could use all the 'constricting' you can get", he said. Not that Bobby was that cold at present, and Jono guessed it was probably because Bobby was trying not to be. He knew what Bobby's touch felt like when it was unexpected, and his body could be very cool to touch at times, a contrast to his ever warm one. The touch did feel good, and though he wasn't outright smiling, the look on Jono's face was one of contentment. Of course, the touch ended and Bobby got what he really wanted, the bottle.

"Well, when you have a bomb going off on your tail and a laser trying to slice through you while fuckin' innocents are burning or screaming or cryin', you'd probably get a little distracted too." Not that Jono would know. The closest he got to using his powers was to entertain the kids - or, at least, to make them leave him alone. Bobby was typically up for a good snowball fight, even in the middle of summer, but the last thing he really wanted right at that moment was to relax. And drink Jono's booze, apparently. Just a tiny sip and he breathed down the neck of the bottle, freezing the liquor. "We've both had enough. Don't worry, should be thawed by the time you get done tomorrow."

Standing up, Bobby stretched his arms over his head as he walked to the window, closing it and throwing the latch. "Heard one of the kids sprouted wings today. Doubt you really want him or her - dunno which - flyin' in here and all that." Bobby made his way back over to the bed, plopping down on it, closer to Jono this time. "Think you could share that blanket it?" His hand slipped in and ran up Jono's calf, up his thigh until he brushed the cotton leg opening on Jono's boxers. "Even us people made of ice need to warm up sometime."

"S'pose I would, that's fair", Jono admitted. It wasn't that he didn't practice with his powers ever, being at this school, he kinda had to, but he mainly practiced to gain control, not to be part of Xavier's personal army. And entertain? Jono would use his powers to scare the shit out of the younger and more easily intimidated kids when they were bothering him, flaring up to where it looked like all hell was about to shoot right out of his mouth and eyes. Jono was a hit on Halloween.

Jono frowned when he saw that bobby did freeze his booze. He was about to protest when he heard Bobby's explanation. He supposed that Bobby was right, and if Bobby didn't want to drink anymore that was his prerogative. Jono wasn't going to pour the stuff down his throat or anything, though he might've stolen one last swig or two for himself. Oh well.

Jono was thankful when Bobby got the window. Jono would've done it, but he was giving a minute for the rest of the smoke to clear out. He tugged the blanket back up over his exposed shoulder, saying, "Wasn't worried about flyin' kids as much as the night air. Feels nippy out there." When Bobby sat back down, his hand moving back to Jono's leg, Jono added, "Feels nippy in here too." Jono scooted over, so that they were hip to hip, pulling the blanket out and around Bobby as well. "Been told I'm decent at warming up", Jono said, moving his leg that was beside Bobby's so that it draped over his leg, giving a bit more access and giving Bobby the benefit of a warm leg on his cool one. As he got the blanket around Bobby, he left his arm draped across the back of Bobby's shoulders for a moment, giving a squeeze into him with his arm, feeling the cool, muscular back and shoulders. Jono knew exactly how they could stay warm, and it was getting late and he was tiring of beating around the bush. He moved his other hand to Bobby's lap, letting it lie across him, prone for the moment. "Got time for a quick shag?", he asked casually.

And so there it was. Bobby's mouth quirked off to the left a bit, letting his shoulders sag some, his upperbody leaning a bit into Jono's frame. Even though the Brit wasn't bulky, he had sinewy muscles that probably came from being a young punk on the streets. "Was wondering exactly how you got the booze, but that can wait for another time." Bobby's hand went and began stroking up and down Jono's back, feeling the thin material of his t-shirt before he found the hem and took his fingers under the fabric. Glancing at the clock, Bobby chuckled some. "He said no more fluids after midnight - looks like we better get goin'." The insinuation was all over the place, but Bobby's left hand crept through the hills and troughs under the blanket before brushing against the tent in Jono's boxers.

"Think we'll ever do anything like this sober? And use American, dunno what the fuck a shag is." Bobby mused, not really caring. He knew that Jono had the booze, and a good mouth on him - better for him to take advantage of both at once was his thinking. leaning in some, cold breath slid around the side of Jono's neck, a few icicles shining in the scruffy hair at the nape of Jono's neck. The hand massaging his buddy's back went around his narrow frame, brushing over the erect nipple and the light dusting of hair on Jono's chest. His words were warm but dripped off his lips, Jono's shoulder obviously breaking out into goosebumps when Bobby spoke in his ear: "What'd you have in mind?"

"You were?", Jono said with a chuckle. "Another time then", he agreed. Now wasn't the time to go into a long story that had little to do with their current situation, other than the booze being the reason both were feeling a little touchy feely and wanting some action. Jono gave a small smirk at the not so subtle hint about fluids. It was okay, he'd been thinking the exact same thing. Where his hand was resting, he now let it knead in, finding a shape betraying some hardness already. He moved his hips forward a little toward the hand in his own lap.

"Sober?", Jono laughed. "Wot's that? And I'll damned well call it what I want. You Yanks have a thousand different names for it, but I can't call it wot it is?" He shivered a little at the breath, feeling the frozen moisture against his skin. "Fuck that's cold. Wicked cold. Toldja needed t'warm you up", he said, leaning it, putting his lips up against Bobby's. He didn't speak to a plan because he didn't have one. He was drunk, remember? All he cared was to do what felt good, what would feel good to Bobby, and that they'd both get off real good from it. The details weren't all that important to him. And he knew if there was something Bobby wanted, he'd let him know. His hand on Bobby's shoulder kneaded inagainst the muscle there. His other hand dug in as well, getting a good solid hold of Bobby through the material of his shorts. Shorts, heh. Going to have to do something about getting those off. But for the moment he was enjoying Bobby's mouth. His lips massaged against Bobby's, Jono's warm tongue slipping out and between those lips, pushing it's way through.

Ugh, Bobby was never a big fan of kissing. He didn't know what it was, and maybe it was just Jono - it always tasted like he'd just eaten a full ashtray even when he hadn't. Bobby didn't protest for a moment, letting his tongue play with the others and then back out. The hand working over Jono's nipple slipped out, down his side, out of his shirt. His finger wrapped gently around Jono's throat as he eased him back, his other hand tightening around the material that housed Jono's member. A few quick hand gestures and Bobby released his hold, stepping out of the bed and away from Jono's fingers. After a quick smack to the other's face, he chuckled and walked away, leaving Jono with quite a British Pickle to take care of.

"Get a clean bill of health, and we'll see what happens." He licked his bottom lip and was out the door before Jono could protest. Hopefully he wouldn't pick up that fucking guitar again.