Stress Release- John B

(Not my gif, credit for whoever created it!)

Summary: Friends with benefits; Two friends who trust each other enough to engage in sexual activity without fear of hurting the other’s feelings.

Word count: 1,912

Warnings: Mentions fwb, sex, and underage drinking.

You rested on your stomach, textbook in front of you as John B joined your side. You two had been chosen to be partners for a Chemistry class project, but neither of you two had actually paid enough attention to figure out what you two we’re doing.

You guys sat in silence for a minute before you exhaled loudly. “What’s with the sigh?” You ground loudly, flipping yourself over and laying on your back.

“It’s my senior year. I should be out in the world not giving a single fuck about anything, but I’m stressed out of my mind and I have no clue how to get rid of it.” You ranted, grabbing the nearest pillow and screaming into it. John B looked at you with a confused look. “What? I’m a screamer. Not sexually, just at life in general.” “I can make that sexually.” He said, earning a smack from the pillow.

“Therapy?” “Tried.” “Painting?” “Tried.” “Going to the gym?” “Ha! You’re fucking funny.” John B remained quiet for a second before coming up with something. “Have you tried just hooking up with someone? You know, like a friends with benefits type thing." 

Your head snapped up from it’s spot as you stared at the boy with a dumbfounded look. "I’m sorry?” “Well it’s just, if you need to release tension, shit like that helps a lot.” John B said as he suddenly felt idiotic for bringing the idea up. You sat there for a moment, trying to process his words. “Okay but even if I wanted to I don’t know who would even want to." 

John B’s index finger pointed to his face as you observed his gesture. "Really?and why would you want to be friends with benefits?” “I get stressed too, I help you out, you help me out.” You considered his offer for a moment before agreeing on his idea.

“Okay. But we have to make a guideline.” You negotiated, ripping out a piece of paper from the notebook. Now it was John B’s turn to roll his eyes. 

“First rule, we do not tell a single soul about this.” You said, grabbing your pen and scribbling the words down. “Okay, okay. Second rule, we call each other whenever we need a release. Whenever and wherever.” “No hooking up with anyone else unless either of us get

a boyfriend/girlfriend.” He thought aloud.

You nodded your head, writing his words down quickly. “And the last one,” you two looked at each other as you spoke in unison, “no feelings.” You held the pen out towards him, giving you a questioning look. “What? We gotta make this shit official." 

John B let out a chuckle as he took the pen from your hand and scribbled his name. Returning the pen to you, he adjusted himself so he was resting against the headboard. You quickly signed it, closing the notebook shut.

John B sighed softly before looking at youm "You stressed?” You quickly rose up from your spot, your legs resting on both sides of him as you straddled his lap. “You have no idea.” His hands trailed up your back, one hand staying on your thigh and gently rubbing it. The other was wrapped tightly around your waist.

Your lips met halfway, he sighed in relief at the feeling of someone else’s lips. The kiss was fierce and rushed, both of you wasting no time in getting your stress out.

_________________

You guys had this ‘relationship’ going for the last 5 months. Almost every other day you called each other. It was an odd thing for you to do. You had done it before in the past, but sex with John B was something else. There were nights where the type would change, he would take control for most of the time. Angry sex, sex in the living room, car sex, anything he wanted to do, you two did.

However, as time went on the feelings John B had began to change. He wanted to spend more time with you, and not just hook up. He wanted to find out more things about you, watch movies with you, be able to kiss you in public whenever he wanted. The at first sloppy sex slowly morphed into passionate sex. He noticed and it scared him shitless. He loved every moment he spent with you and he didn’t want that to change.

He was mad at himself. That was the third rule and he broke it. He never expected it to happen, but when it did it slapped him right across the face.

You two were lying there naked, sheets covering your bare chests. You were fast asleep, your body facing him. He took in the tiny details about you, everything that he could. How sometimes your eyelashes flutter. How you’ll snore sometimes. How he rests his hand on your cheek and you unknowingly lean into his touch. He buried this hole too deep and he can’t get out.

You both were currently at your friend Angela’s party, drunk teens were horribly dancing in the living room, couples were hooking up in the bedrooms and bathrooms. John B was drinking a shot of vodka as he saw you walk by, a red plastic solo cup in your hand. “Hey Routledge!” You winked at the boy who shyly drank from his cup.

A classmate of his walked up to John B, “Hey, what’s with you and that Y/L/N chick?” The boy asked, nudging John B’s shoulders. He smirked at his classmate leaning closer to him, “we’re friends with benefits!” John B exclaimed, clearly tipsy and not knowing the words that are spilling out of his mouth. 

The classmate smirked at the intoxicated teen, giving JB a high five, congratulating him. You were out in the backyard enjoying the night sky with Sarah Cameron.you two were laughing after watching someone run and fall into the pool.

The fun was quickly ruined as the classmate stood in front of you guys. “So Y/N, I heard you help release stress from my good old friend John B. How about you help me out?” Your face dropped in shock, the cup falling from your hand. “I’m sorry?” You asked, pretending not to understand what he was talking about.

“Oh yeah. But real shit, whenever I need something I’ll give you a call.” The boy sent you a wink before licking his lower lip and walking away. You stared at the ground in shock. “Are you okay?” “I don’t know how to answer that.” You admitted.

You stomped out of the backyard and out of the house. Stares, comments and giggles were all you noticed as you made your way through the crowded rooms. Making way to your car, you opened the door and slammed it shut. Your fists pounded down onto the steering wheel, accidentally punching the horn. You crossed your arms and leaned against the wheel. Your head fell against your arms as tears stung your eyes. You were furious at John B, but you were also angry with yourself. 

During the time you had been sleeping with John B, you also began to realize how your heart would race a mile a minute with him, even before the physical contact. You had been trying to deny the feelings, 'it’s just sex’ you repeated to yourself over and over after every session. But to you it was something else, and that scared you.

You sped down down the road, the lights blurring from the tears, your cheeks and nose a shade of pink. Your breathing was uneven as you hicupped every now and then. Returning home, you quickly changed out of your clothes into pajamas and laid in bed. That night was the last time you and John B had an interaction for a whole month.

He would call you, but you’d let the answering machine pick up. You’d swerve him when you walked by him in the halls, catching his eye then turning around to walk the other way. 

You wanted to distance yourself as much as you could. John B tried his best to apologize after his classmate reminded him that he told your secret that night at the party. He felt absolutely destroyed hearing the rumors that were spreading about you, about you both, he hated it.

Your eyes were sealed shut as you attempted to let sleep overtake your body. It was finally Friday and you just wanted to sleep for 12 hours. The sound of rain hitting your window sounded like heaven to your ears, just pure silence except for that one noise. 

A soft tapping sound echoed off the  window. Knowing it wasn’t rain, you hesitantly opened your eyes to see John Booker Routledge holding himself as he stood in your backyard, in the pouring rain. His hair was plastered down onto his face. His clothes clung to his body. His eyes were squinted shut in hopes to not get too much water in them.

You quickly got up and pulled him through the window harshly, making him fall to the ground. His skin made a loud slapping noise as he made contact with the hardwood floor. You sighed, rubbing your forehead with the palm of your hand. “Hold on.” You quickly went out of the room and walked back in with a towel. You handed it to him as you sat on the bad, John B standing there as he attempted to dry off.

“Look this isn’t a guilt-trip. I just genuinely want to know if you dislike me so I can stop bothering you.” He started, the towel running through his hair, drops of water flying everywhere. You sighed loudly and pitched the bridge of your nose. “I don’t hate or dislike you. I hate that you spilled what we were to what’s his face at the party. Do you know how many phone calls I’ve gotten of guys asking me to hook up with them? 24." 

"What we were?” John B asked softly. “You broke your promise, you can’t come back from that.” You huffed, your eyes not leaving the floor. “It was just a fling.” He lied, not only to you but to himself. “Not to me it wasn’t.” Your voice was just above a whisper.

“What?" 

"Throughout the last few months things felt different. It was really fucking weird to think about, but my heart would always just… race when we spent time together. I wanted things to just be more than a fling. But I figured you just wanted it to be just that thing since you came up with the idea.” you admitted. He lightly chuckled as he bent down to be face to face with you.

“Princess. I walked here to you in the rain. This is how much I love you. This,” he pointed his finger between you two, “I want more than a fling. I want to be able to just walk around with you on my arm and just give you all the fucking affection I can give. And I’m sorry about the calls. I’ll make sure people get the notice to-” you cut him off by quickly pressing your lips against his.

He exhaled loudly, your skin suddenly felt as if it were burning. “God I missed you.” He mumbled against your lips as his thumb stroked your cheek. “Show me how much you missed me.” You whispered, pulling the boy onto the bed.