JJ MAYBANK

Everyone liked bubbles, you liked bubbles, JJ liked bubbles. It was such a fun and strange thing to chase after until pop! Yet no one ever told you how painful they could be if they ever reached blood. Blood is thicker than water, but the chemical reaction going on your veins didn't have any poetic side piece, or any nostalgic memory from your childhood. It was plain misery.

At least, you had JJ. Your blond boyfriend who squeezes your hand between groaning and whimpering, grounding himself to you and your body.

12 hours... that wasn't going to be cute. Having bubbly blood wasn't as fun as one would think. The bends had the two of you sweating and whining in pain, pressing your sticky skin together in attempts of find some comfort in the other's body, before settling back in the comfort of the pillow. Just keeping your fingers intertwined.

"You shouldn't have gone with me," the silence broke— after hours, with JJ's deep voice, he turned his gaze you and then inched his body closer. "You could've died... you almost did—"

The thing is, when you're talking and suddenly another mouth takes advantage of yours and just accidentally press a very, very soft kiss to yours; there's no way the words can slip away. Only low sighs and whimpers, that used the line of desire and pain like a fucking jump rope.

"Please," you grabbed his cheeks and guided him closer. "Don't apologize for something that wasn't your fault."

"Tell me to shut up more like this," now, it was his turn to pull you closer, gently dropping his arm on your waist. "I wouldn't mind at all, ma."

"Don't call me that."