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“-which is why I think it would be in both our interest to collaborate on this issue. What do you say, Commander?”
A cold hue was molding over his upper back, wrapping around his shoulders as a cheery voice found its way into Johnny’s ear without moving the air.
“What an awful deal.”
Johnny didn’t flinch. Guardians were invisible to anyone but their chosen protege, and while not everyone had one, of course, it should always be assumed that the other party did. Still, that didn’t mean the man across him had to know that Johnny wasn't alone. Now Johnny hadn’t exactly been gagging to enter an alliance with this shady small fish, either, but he wouldn’t want to give his Guardian any funny ideas. Despite his youthful appearance, Jungwoo could be moody and harsh, and unafraid to set an example. It was part of the reason Johnny had made it this far within the revolutionary army.
It was a big part of why he was still breathing, too.
Though he’d like to think that his aversion to getting cocky had a part in it as well.
“I’m afraid we’re currently not looking for any assistance,” he said politely, his posture straight and measured as his voice. Jungwoo sighed, draping himself further around his back in an exaggerated display of a clingy child. Johnny felt the chill against every sliver of exposed skin. It was smooth and pleasant. Like expensive silk.
“I’m bored,” he whined. “You’re wasting time. He’s not gonna take no for an answer, anyway.”
Jungwoo didn’t know that, but in the time it took for Johnny to shoot Jungwoo an annoyed look, the man across from him had pulled a gun on him.
Johnny couldn’t even hold his breath before the weapon exploded.
“Why didn’t you tell me about the gun?”
Johnny had a reputation of being scary once angry, and he was livid now.
“What if he’d shot me in the face? You think that’s funny?”
Yes, Johnny was known to be scary, but Jungwoo didn’t even bother looking up from where he was braiding the stray cords on his vest.
“Most people you bargain with carry fire weapons,” he only said. “And you know I won’t let anybody shoot you.”
Johnny was pretty sure the leftover adrenaline was giving him a headache.
“Well, guns tend to be pretty fast.”
Jungwoo glanced up from under his messy mop of blonde curls, entirely unconcerned.
“I’m faster.”
On anyone else it would look boyish and charming, the way his plush lips pulled into a bright smile that was accompanied by twinkling eyes. And if Johnny hadn’t just had to dump his blood-stained uniform into the washing machine, maybe he would have been inclined to indulge him.
“We literally got it from the dry cleaner yesterday,” he sighed instead. “You love going to that place so much?”
Jungwoo rolled his eyes from where he was sitting on nothing but thin air, his long legs dangling. Guardian had an ambiguous relationship with gravity that could best be described as friends with benefits. And Jungwoo loved to reap said benefits.
“You’re being a baby,” he quipped. “And as matter of fact, I do love going there. Best smell in the world.”
With that, he hopped onto the ground and made his way over to the kitchen.
“You want a beer?”
Johnny sighed.
“The golden one.”
When he exited the shower a while later, Jungwoo was already sprawled out on the expensive suede fabric of his couch. That, too, was extremely annoying to clean but luckily for him, Jungwoo not only loved to leave crumbs everywhere, he was also pedantic enough to clean all of those and then some. Apparently, the look and texture of dirt made his skin crawl. Johnny had suggested he cut down on the crumbly food exactly once, and Jungwoo had snatched their bowl of fried chicken to finish it all by himself in retaliation. In all his time base-hopping and meeting all sorts of people all over the galaxy, he’d never encountered anyone whose Guardian ate food like he could realistically starve (and at any moment, too).
Currently he was digging into a bag of blue-kiwi popcorn, taking up the entire length of the couch. To his credit, the half-empty bottle of whiskey was on the table as well, accompanied by a single glass.
Johnny dropped onto the couch, right through the legs of Jungwoo, who shot him a reproachful look.
“Hey.”
Johnny didn’t even look his way as he poured himself a generous swig. A near death experience warranted that much.
“Could have made room.”
Grumbling, Jungwoo pulled up his legs, only to drape them across Johnny’s lap next, this time with actual weight behind them that felt just a tad too much to not be petulant. Johnny just let him be as he watched the nonsensical images of non-human TV flutter over the screen. His eyes could hardly parse the slow-moving, nearly silent scenes interspersed with psychedelic ones that were popping with color and creatures. Jungwoo loved intergalactic TV though, and soon enough, the weight on his lap went from crushing to a barely there, cool imprint.
Another sip of smoked honey, and Johnny closed his eyes, finally relaxing.
It had been around three years since Jungwoo had chosen him. He remembered the day with vivid clarity, remembered the distinct scent of sun-warmed grass, the feeling of dust on his skin and exhaustion in his limbs. But what he remembered the most was the azure sky. He’d stumbled out of the wrecked ship that had been his prison for too many years, confused by the sudden taste of freedom and overwhelmed by the deep, cerulean blue above, by the way it mirrored over the surface of the lake. And on that surface, he’d seen him for the first time. Like a mismatched mirror image Jungwoo had blinked back at him - bright-eyed and full of curiosity where Johnny was dull. Brimming with life. And he’d been with him ever since.
It was rare to encounter a Guardian willing to bond out in the wild like that, and yet Jungwoo had found him. He was powerful even by other Guardian’s standards, to the point that Johnny’s mere presence incited a very real sense of respect even among higher ups, but he was also… sweet. Whimsical. He loved to play, to indulge, to pout and joke, and to be relentlessly clingy.
People might fear Jungwoo and while he was incorrigible and could be a headache that Johnny occasionally wished he could toss out of a window, he’d never fear him. In fact, it was less the whiskey and more the cool hues of Jungwoo’s presence bleeding through the fabric of his pants that was calming him. Part of him was yearning to feel it on his skin instead.
He knew that technically, Jungwoo would be able to touch him in a more physical sense. He touched objects all the time, but Johnny had seen him engage with people as well, though usually in a violent context. The only times Johnny had ever felt him had been accidents surrounding said incidents. Never had Jungwoo ever touched him on purpose. And Johnny had grown to want it with a ferocity that bordered on desperation. Jungwoo would probably laugh at him if he knew - because that was the thing with Jungwoo; in a sense, it was all fun and games with him. Even if Johnny believed them to be close, there was an invisible wall between them that he’d never be able to reach past. One that he knew should be left alone. He didn’t let that stop him from tracing over the fabric folds along Jungwoo’s calf though, quietly imagining what it would feel like against the pad of his thumb.
“What are you doing?”
He paused, only to continue his slow descent over a surface that was so close, yet entirely out of reach.
“Nothing.”
Jungwoo let out a small snort.
“Are you bored?”
Johnny shook his head.
“No,” he hummed.
For a moment it was silent. Johnny was halfway lost in his own thoughts already when Jungwoo pulled back his legs. Blinking back to the present, Johnny glanced over at Jungwoo, who was eyeing him like a wary cat.
“You’re being weird.”
“You’re being weird,” Johnny countered, setting down his glass so he could fully focus on his partner in crime and good deeds alike. “You alright?”
Jungwoo rolled his eyes.
“You don’t get to act weird and then blame it on me-”
“Am I making you uncomfortable?”
Again, Jungwoo let out a small, disbelieving snort, before his gaze dropped down into his nearly demolished bowl of popcorn.
“Yeah, right.”
Johnny didn’t laugh.
“You can just tell me,” he began, fully turning towards him. “I know you don’t like to be touched, so-”
“What makes you think that?”
The question had come out quietly, but it extinguished the rest of his sentence with the efficiency of a flame being suffocated. It had been something about the texture, about the smooth lack of mirth. Jungwoo was looking at him in a way he rarely did - relaxed, but attentive. Calculating. And maybe there was something else in there.
Johnny stared at him, at his arresting, amber-colored eyes and the tiny freckles barely visible under the dim light. He waited for the oxygen to return to him, for his thoughts to crumble into words, and he was looking at his lips.
He wet his own lips. Jungwoo followed the movement, not moving an inch. When Johnny spoke up, his voice sounded far away even to his own ears.
“Well, I know for a fact that you don’t want me to touch you-”
“You don’t know shit, then.”
Johnny blinked, but Jungwoo was already averting his eyes, turning back towards the TV. His legs returned to Johnny’s lap as he was reaching for more popcorn.
“As per usual.”
The lighthearted air was off-set by the following silence. There was a barely there flush dusting his face, and his eyes were shining even as they refused to budge from the TV.
In his lap, the weight of legs became more real. Tangible.
And Johnny continued to run his hands over them. For real this time.