Lust & Cigarettes
by Adelaide Elizabeth Morgan

"We did it, Richie. We really fucking did it!" Jon cackled, taking another swig from... from whatever bottle he was holding. He frowned at the label but was too drunk to read it. He shrugged and handed it to Richie.

Richie grinned at Jon, blowing smoke up at the ceiling and stubbing his cigarette out in the ashtray. He drank deeply from the bottle, burped and passed it back. He picked up his guitar from the floor and played the opening chords of Livin' On A Prayer. Raising one eyebrow, he asked Jon if he still hated that song. Jon pulled a face and stuck his tongue out at Richie.

Rolling onto his side, Jon propped himself up on one arm, watching Richie strum his guitar. Just as he'd expected, Richie's eyes slid closed as he lost himself in the music, worrying his lower lip with his teeth. He stopped playing when he felt Jon's eyes on him, a light blush covering his cheeks.

Jon ran a finger down Richie's cheek and along his chin, turning the other man to face him. "Why you embarrassed?"

Richie shrugged. "Dunno." He opened his eyes, meeting Jon's. Jon smiled at him and Richie felt his heart flip. He both loved and hated having Jon's full attention on him. It made him uncomfortable in more than one way. He shifted his grip on his guitar, hiding the evidence of his discomfort.

Jon was still smiling at him and Richie felt his face heating up as his blush deepened. He couldn't help grinning back though. "What?"

Jon shook his head. "Nothing. Well..." he trailed off, leaning forward to kiss Richie gently on the lips. He pulled back, waiting for his reaction.

Richie's eyes widened and he closed the gap between them, kissing Jon back. Jon whimpered, opening up under Richie's mouth, wrapping his arms around him. He felt the guitar pressing awkwardly against his hip but couldn't bring himself to move it, revelling in the feel of the kiss. Richie tasted like beer and whiskey and vodka and cigarettes and... and Richie. Jon squirmed on the bed, trying to get closer.

The door slammed open and banged against the wall, and they both jumped turning to see what had interrupted them. Both men were flushed with desire, lips swollen from the kiss as they stared at Alec. Jon flushed bright red and hid behind his hair, watching Alec blink rapidly, shaking his head. He ran a hand over his face, propping himself up against the door frame.

"Why... Uhh... Why are you two making out on my bed?" His eyes widened and he shook his head, a forced laugh escaping him.

Richie interrupted him before he had chance to speak again. "Not your bed, Alec. Your room's next door."

"Oh." Alec blushed and he turned to leave, stumbling as he looked over his shoulder. "Sorry." He shut the door behind him and Richie forgot him as soon as he had left.


Jon peered at him from behind his hair, embarrassment plain on his face, blue eyes filling with tears. Richie reached out to him but he rolled away, lying on his back again, staring up at the ceiling. Neither man spoke for long moments.

"I... I should probably go," Jon spoke up eventually, feeling a lot more sober than he had a few moments earlier.

"You don't have to."

Jon smiled lightly. "I know, but..." His gaze drifted over to the array of bottles that lay littered all over the carpet. "We're drunk, Richie, and I don't want this to be some... some..." he gestured half-heartedly, unable to find the words to express himself. "I want this to be special."

Richie bit his lip, a lump in his throat at the look of sheer vulnerability on Jon's face. He brushed Jon's hair back and cupped his face, stroking his cheek with his thumb. "And it will be, I promise."

Jon sighed in relief and Richie smiled, unable to stop himself from kissing him gently on the lips. "It's a big bed," Richie offered. "Nothing has to happen if you don't want it to. You could stay here tonight, and then in the morning, when we've finished fighting over the toilet, we can see what happens. Nothing has to happen tonight, Jon. Not if you don't want it to." He repeated.

Jon grinned shyly. He reached over and pulled the guitar out of Richie's lap, placing it on the floor. Realising Jon's intentions, Richie's spread his legs and Jon settled down between them, his back against Richie's chest.

"I'd like that." Jon decided, relaxing into Richie's touch as the guitarist wrapped his arms around him.


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