Two Of Us

"Do you really think.....?"
George's quiet voice interrupted the otherwise blissful moment. John just groaned, pushing his lips deeper into the man's neck. "Why not? You want to, I want to...."
George didn't answer, and John felt the sudden tension. He pulled his face back to see George's. "You'll be fine," he said, half assuring and half mocking. "It doesn't hurt."
"John, I don't know if I'm ready to do this," George said quickly, struggling to get up off the couch. "It's too soon...."
"Aw, George," John pouted. "You always say that. We've been together for almost six months now."
"I just can't, John." he said firmly, sitting up. John flopped off him onto the couch, pushing his hair off his face.
"I don't understand," he said, frustrated. His dark eyes followed George as he leaned forward, putting his thin face in his hands. "Do you not trust me?"
"Oh John, please understand," George pleaded, turning back to him. John would've protested, but the younger man's hazel eyes had him pinned for a second. "It's not you at all. It's me. I'm just not ready for that yet."
John sighed, trying to think of an angle to argue from that didn't equal him sounding like an inconsiderate prick. "How can you get ready?" he said finally.
George just gave him a strange look; whether it was angry or not John couldn't tell. "When I'm ready, I'll do it," he reasoned. "But I'm not."
John just gently looped his arm, keeping him on the couch. "Can we at least kiss, then?" he asked gently.
George laughed and brought his lips to John's for a second. "Of course, love," he murmured. "We do that all the time, don't we?"
"It always ends the same way," John muttered deeply. "Not that that's a bad thing." he said quickly when he realized the double meaning.
George just huffed and pulled away again. "You aren't going to stop pestering me about this, are you?"
John shrugged unconvincingly. "I don't want to force you." he whispered.
George's lip tightened. "It doesn't seem that way." He reached for the cigarettes that were lying on the table, lighting one up and inhaling deeply.
John took one too, and the two men sat for a minute enveloped in smoke.
"Do I have to get you drunk?" John finally asked.
George sputtered in laughter, nearly choking. "Are you serious?"
"Why not?" He stood up and fetched the two bottles of wine that were in the fridge, tossing one to George.
"We're drinking it neat?" he said, not quite nervously.
"Again, why not?" John pointed out, gulping some down. "Works quicker." he teased.
George gulped his share, enjoying the soothing it brought with it. He wiped his mouth, staring at John with a strange look. "I can't believe you're going to get me drunk for this," he laughed. "It's almost flattering."
"I can't believe your letting me," John mocked, gulping some more down. Suddenly he leaned forward and kissed him again, more savagely then before.
George responded with an intensity he'd never felt before. Never. It scared him, but comforted him at the same time.
"No more wine?" he whispered after a few minutes, not opening his eyes.
"Don't think we need any more," John panted, hands locked at George's collar. "I think I'm sober enough for this."
He smoothly unbuttoned the first few buttons on George's shirt, running his hands down his pale chest. George shivered and found his lips again. His usual smouldering insecurities somehow burnt away, met by a different kind of fire. A fire that hurt, but somehow pleased him too.
"Are you ready yet?" John asked, somehow on top of him. They were both sweating enough that their hands were slipping, but neither of them let go.
George nodded, grinning. "I wouldn't have let you get this far if I wasn't."