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Gerry tried not to think about the kiss, but the more he tried not to, the more he did. It felt like that was all he could think about the rest of the day.
He and Jon had kissed. He and Jon had finally kissed.
He'd been wanting to for way too long to admit to even himself. But Jon was his only friend, and probably wasn't interested in any relationship let alone with one with a wreck of a man like him. He couldn't risk losing that.
But Jon kissed him. Then asked to do it again. And then they just...kept kissing like it was the only thing that made sense.
Gerry was terrified of telling the other man that that had been his first kiss.
He'd never had any friends, never any relationships, and every time he tried for a casual hookup he either chickened out or just felt...of. Like, he could kiss this stranger, could go home with them and...and hope that sex came as naturally as people claimed. But then he'd get sick with nerves, and realize he'd have a better time doing anything else. Like burning a Leitner. That was way more satisfying than he assumed sex would be.
But Jon...
It was different with Jon. He knew Jon, and Jon knew him. Maybe not every single detail, but enough to still tolerate being around him and even seem to seek it out. Enough that they could casually touch each other. Maybe not a lot, but more than anyone else.
And he wanted to touch Jon. Wanted Jon to touch him. Wanted to be around him. Wanted to see the way his face scrunched up when reading, and stretched out when offended, and reddened when flustered.
He just wanted Jon.
But maybe he didn't want the same things Jon wanted, and would that be the thing that ruined them?
"Fuuuuck." He could smack his head like he wanted to, like he deserved, because both hands carried coffee as he walked down the street to the Institute. Overthinking and being this distracted could get him killed. So he tried to focus on the cases they'd been looking over yesterday. Before they kissed.
Then he spotted Jon, and without thinking (and really he didn't need to, this was habit now and not out of the ordinary) lengthened his stride and crossed the street to catch up with him. "Jon!"
Despite them walking the last bit to work together being a relatively common occurrence, when he wasn't off finding books, Jon jumped.
"G-Gerry!" He gasped, one hand over his heart. "Good lord, don't startle me like that."
Gerry noticed he didn't quite catch his eye. His chest tightened, and breathing got a bit harder. Still, he masked it with a smirk. "What, and ruin the fun? Nah. Here--" he pushed one of the coffees into his hand.
Jon fumbled a bit, but took it gratefully, noticeably relaxing and holding it close. "Thank God. I missed my alarm and didn't have time for any today."
"'Course, Jonjon."
Jon rolled his eyes, but this time looked up at him properly as they started walking again. "What kind?"
Gerry leaned down a little and dipped his voice. "Black. Like your soul." He laughed as Jon rolled his eyes, and knocked shoulders playfully. "And two sugars."
"Thank you, Gerry," he took a sip and let out a content sigh that Gerry definitely couldn't think more about, so drank some of his own, licking the froth off his lip. "What fiendish concoction did you come up with today?"
"Carmel gingerbread swirl with extra whipped cream, Carmel glaze, and two shots of espresso." Gerry grinned wide.
"Good lord," Jon shook his head, sipping his own lame coffee.
Gerry laughed but offered, "Wanna taste?"
Jon studied him through narrowed eyes, then shrugged. "Why not?"
Impulse struck.
He definitely should've thought this through, instead he took a long sip of his drink, heart pounding fast, then touched Jon's shoulder to stop him, cupped the back of his head, and leaned in.
Jon saw it coming, he must have, because his eyes widened and cheeks reddened, and then his eyes fluttered shut as his own lips parted.
So Gerry kissed him. Slow and careful. Licked into his mouth languidly, so every remnant of sugary caffeine on his tongue could be offered directly to Jon's. It was a little awkward, because both their tongues tried doing the same thing at once, and it took a moment to find a slow, exploratory rhythm. But they did, and it didn't matter if it was awkward or if Gerry still thought kissing was still kinda weird, because it was also good.
When they finally pulled back, Jon blinked slow, dazed. Gerry felt much the same. Then his face suddenly scrunched and he looked at Gerry's coffee and snatched it up, taking a sip.
"Ugh." He passed the offending drink back. "That is horrendously sweet."
Gerry leaned back and laughed. That was actually the reaction to the coffee he expected. "Yeah, just like you." He snatched his chin and pecked his cheek, and Jon just blushed harder.
"Y-yes, w-well--" he stammered, searching for something, then finally huffed. "You have strange taste."
"I won't argue with that, he laughed, and as they kept walking, his pinkie brushed Jon's hand, and he tentatively pushed his fingers between Jon's. He caught the little rush of breath from the other man, but neither said anything as their fingers entwined, and they held hands all the way to the Institute's entrance.