Breakfast Club, Brian/John, daytime
Ten years. Could have been ten minutes, for all it had mattered. She hadn’t been at the reunion—Claire, that is. Allison and Andy hadn’t been there, either, but Brian had known that ahead of time. He’d talked to them on the phone just before they went on their family vacation to Spain.
As if he were right back in high school again, Brian had been absorbed into the ring of overachieving geeks. They talked about their jobs, their earnings, their two-car garages, and their one-car penis extensions. Brian got nervous when the topic turned to wives and girlfriends. He scanned the room again.
He’d seen John Bender from across the decorated cafeteria, and he had been reluctant to even make eye contact. What were the chances that the man even remembered him let alone wanted to talk to him?
But at the end of the night—when Brian was insisting he had checked his coat and the coat check girl was insisting she couldn’t find one to match his claim ticket—there John was. He vaulted over the counter and rifled through the coats. He had grabbed his own black, wool trench coat and found Brian’s navy blue jacket a second later.
“How’d you know?” Brian had asked, impressed, accepting the coat and tossing his ticket onto the counter in exchange.
“Saw you come in,” John had replied a bit sheepishly. “Didn’t know if you saw me at all, but…” He’d been watching Brian all night. And, fuck, he looked good when he looked shy. Luckily, Brian looked dead sexy when he was aggressive, and immediately asked if John had a place nearby.
Flattered and excited didn’t begin to describe it. But grinning and lying spread eagle on Bender’s bed while the man pounded into him was some indication of how Brian felt. They’d fucked all night. John used positions Brian didn’t even know existed. Brian knew tricks and techniques that had driven John absolutely mad. They’d gone slowly at first, hesitant, shy, cautious. By two in the morning, all inhibitions had been abandoned. By four, they’d slipped into a comfortable familiarity Brian couldn’t get enough of.
Brian stood naked in front of the living room window, looking out over the city. Sparkling lights, abandoned streets, everything quiet in the darkness. John came over and stood behind him. Arms wrapped around from behind and the two basked in the glow together.
Brian couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like in the morning. When the daytime was upon them and the alcohol was out of their systems, would John finally come to his senses and realize who he’d been fucking?
“Wanna come back to bed?” John asked, kissing Brian’s neck and—oh God—that spot behind Brian’s ear. Brian’s glasses rocked on his face and his knees went weak.
“Want to fuck right here in front of the window?” He reached back, digging his hand into John’s dark hair. John hugged him tighter around the middle.
“Wanna change that plane ticket of yours and stay the weekend?” He nuzzled his face into Brian’s neck. “Or the whole week?”