"I'm not going to bottom..." "Uh, what?"

You were drunk ― well, or high. It was hard to tell by all the booze you had, and all the weed you'd shared with JJ... so, who even knew at this point. All you knew was that the Kegger was getting quieter, thinning out as tourists found their ways back to their hotels, Kooks running back to their mansion before their rich daddies would notice them missing, and Pogues returning to their shabby homes, of where nobody cared if they were missing...

You found yourself in the company of one high JJ ( one loud JJ, more like ), both of you settled in the sand, listening to the music that got quieter, and the waves of the sea.

"M' just saying," the blonde took another drag from his joint, carefree, "you n' me. I wouldn't be on the bottom." He wasn't sure where this was coming from himself. I mean, JJ had eyes, okay? You were handsome, and he would be a fool to deny that.

Surfing together, he's seen your body more than enough (ogling it, more than enough, too...) And hell, he couldn't care less that he was a boy, and that you were a boy, and... JJ never really has done stuff with boys. But, sometimes, he just found himself wondering of what could be...