Underneath and Unexplored.

Present

John awoke to the distinct aroma of charred toast and bacon, wafting into the bunk area as he wiped away the sweat and perspiration coating the tan skin on his face, torso and arms from last night's sleep making him uncomfortable, to say the least and with an aggravated groan he attempted to stretch his tense muscles in the confined area.
The bunk bed had been promised to be suited for his height, therefore, John hadn’t asked for much for this tour and even then, he never expected much from this tour besides the glorious feeling of a crowd of fans. Perhaps the disappointment was well anticipated, after all John was well accustomed to feeling uneasy whilst sleeping on a moving bus.

John ran a hand through his short hair, tugging at the roots slightly whilst mumbling quick sarcastic thanks directed at Tim and his fabulous organization skills.
He reached over and checked his phone with a hopeful gleam, for any messages or calls from a certain someone as if it were second nature. Nothing. With a pained sigh, he scrolled down his contacts, ready to call this certain someone but upon realization and memory, he cancelled and shoved his phone deep under his pillow.

2 years ago
"John, wake up it's Christmas!"

John mumbled something inaudible before forcing his eyes half open and taking in his surroundings with the delicious smell of pancakes and waffles wafting into the bedroom. He wiped away the sweat and perspiration which coated his forehead from the Arizona heat.

"Cee, where am I? Am I in heaven?" He asked in his mid-slumber state.

"John, if I hadn't spent all night with you, I'd be wondering whether or not you were high." She answered in an exasperated tone.

John chuckled lightly, "I'm still confused as to how we got here, ‘cause you covered my eyes… I mean, is this place really ours now? It's hard to believe, babe."

"No John, I've obtained this apartment for the both of us, but I'm DEFINITELY going to return it tomorrow." She responded in a tone laced heavily with sarcasm.

"I wouldn't be surprised. You get off on publically humiliating me." He replied with a smirk, earning a giggle and embarrassed blush for the brown haired and blue eyed girl.

Cecilia sat up and swung her legs to the floor before walking towards the door. She shouted over her shoulder with a smirk, "Get up and have some breakfast, princess."

John smiled and copied her actions, stretching out and ruffling his mullet after checking his phone; he had noticed this become a second nature lately. With a content sigh, he dragged his feet up to the drawers situated next to a wall sized mirror and smiled at his reflection, accentuating his genuine happiness.

He wondered if Cecilia had moved any of his clothes into their new apartment, and upon finding his sweatpants neatly folded in the mahogany drawer he slid them on before 'following his nose'.

Shirtless, he walked through the corridor and he observed the intricate Christmas decorations and the clothing decorated floor, sniggering to himself and wondering how she had the time to do all of this. After all, she was a busy girl with school and working for her rich-as-fuck father. Upon this memory, he thought about what her parents’ views on Cecilia spending Christmas with her touring boyfriend were and if they had contacted her to announce their sheer displeasure.

Cecilia's parents were, by definition, shamelessy self-involved. Wealth and social respect meant next to everything and although they spent a lot of time away from their daughter and son, they still loved the idea of her. A young, brown haired, blue eyed, intelligent, witty girl and a handsome dirty blonde teenage son, with Oscar Wilde's wit. The perfect offspring. What they felt for their children could not be described as anything more than maternal or paternal love and the need to be better than every other family.

As no surprise to John, Cecilia was on the phone clad in shorts and a tank top, perhaps to her monster of a mother - much to his distaste. Nevertheless, he wrapped his arms around her waist and mumbled a quick, "Merry Christmas" in her other ear, resulting in the girl turning around and wrapping an arm around his neck with a warm smile, reminding him of the December sun.
Covering the phone, she quickly whispered to John, "Help yourself to some breakfast, pup." John nodded and reveled in the odd pet name, then chuckled at the pun on 'pet' and 'pup'. Upon noticing that the three words also resulted in some alliteration too, he burst out in a fit of giggles, mouth half-filled with pancakes. He thought to himself, "Wow, I'm really going all out with literary devices lately." Cecilia sent him a confused expression complete with her signature raised eyebrow before continuing her conversation on the phone.

"Mother, what seems to be the problem here? You keep whining and whining. Just stop and get to the point. Before we both become frustrated." She cried out.

"Oh, is that it? Because I NEVER spend time with the family? That's rich, coming from the woman who spends three quarters of her life on another continent, let alone state or country." John became worried about Cee and frowned, wishing this wasn't a one-sided conversation for him.

"You know what mother? You've never cared about spending time with me before today. I'm spending my Christmas- Oh, okay now you bring that into this as your petty argument? He has nothing to d-" Cecilia's eyes were glazed over and tears were threatening to spill from her eyes. Out of utter frustration, John had been watching and grasped the phone from her soft hands.

He spoke in a sickeningly calm voice. "I don't mean to be rude, Mrs. Almarez, but Cecilia doesn't need this right now and we would much appreciate it if you left us be for today. It's Christmas day, and I'd much prefer if you refrained from upsetting her and upsetting yourself, for that reason I believe it is best to hang up on you now. Merry Christmas, Mrs. Almarez."

Cecilia watched him with soft, wide eyes in disbelief and loving awe as he switched off her phone.

“John, she’s gonna be pissed.”

“Good. It's hardly fair for you to be pissed.” He replied simply.

“It’s a pity, I’m too infatuated and adoring of you to be angry for my mom. Although I am guilty for leaving Jeremy with our rents.” She chuckled and straddled his lap, playing with his hair and leaving kisses on his naked torso.

"Mmm, well I'm glad. When can we move all of our stuff in baby?" John moaned quietly and alternated between running his hands up and down her sides and tracing the bruises he had left from last night on her bare exposed hips.

"Whenever you want."

"Oh, really? Will you help me out?"
John licked his lips and gave her breasts a light squeeze after feeling her roll her hips into his.

"Yeah, baby." She giggled, sliding a hand between them and into his boxers. John groaned from the back of his throat and thrust up into her hand, then picked her up and took them both to the leather couch.

"You like getting me off, gorgeous?" He raspily taunted after laying them both down.

"Especially after you act like my knight in shining armor. It's so fucking sexy."
She mumbled momentarily, before pulling quickly away with wide eyes.

"Fuck, baby, we forgot to bring the presents." Cecilia pouted and cuddled into him, a contrasting gesture to the actions minutes before.

"Can I just have you for Christmas instead?" He mumbled, pressing his thin lips against her nose.

"You've got me already."

Present

John swung his legs over the side of his bunk and pulled out some sweatpants.
“Oh.” He whispered in realization to himself, “These pants.”
He shook his head, as if trying to shake the thoughts that had occupied his mind all of last night, and followed his nose to the source of the musky unpleasant smell to find Pat Kirch with two slices of toast in a frying pan, burnt to the crisp.

“I see you’ve woken up, sleepy head. You must have been tired as fuck.” He giggled in a girlish manner, for no apparent reason.

John didn’t respond, only sighing and opening the windows. “What the fuck did you try to make, Pat? You know there’s a reason we have a toaster.”

“I wanted to make something special to cheer you up, it’s nearly Christmas.”

“Not for a few weeks, Pat. And it’s just Christmas, we won’t even be home by then.” He snapped in an unusually hostile tone, John hardly ever got angry.

Pat stared with wide eyes and was diligent to avoid a soft topic that made John’s heart visibly wrench, “Well, that’s why I wanted to make you feel better… because, you know...”

John was speechless. He didn’t respond, and neither did he want to.
Instead, he walked back to his bunk and licked his chapped lips before closing his eyes lightly and praying for sleep.