hiding place | John Mulaney/Reader

Colliding

You knew it would be hard to keep your attention on the act, but you didn't anticipate yourself struggling not to look at him for two minutes. With every sip of your drink, you were distracting yourself from pulling him out of his seat and dragging him to his feet to kiss you. This newfound confidence was welcome retreat from the constant anxiety.

Convincing yourself that the second comedian's humor just wasn't your style as an excuse for not paying too much attention, you nudged John's foot with yours. He turned to look at you, where you sat fidgeting with your empty glass. "Hm?" The older man hums. You lower your voice to a whisper as he leans in to hear you. You can smell his cologne. "How many more are there?" A smile plays on his lips. "What, you're bored?" John teases. You roll your eyes. "I'm not bored, but.." Trying to find the softest words in the case that the comedian fifteen yards away from you mid-joke could hear, you stammered. John folded his arms, his undivided attention given to your floundering. You deflate. "Yes, I'm bored." He leans forward again. "You're not gonna hurt anyone's feelings if we leave, nobody can see us anyways." He gestures to the nook your table was tucked into.

Not only was it dark, but it was almost entirely obstructed from the rest of the bar. You could see the stage, but whoever was onstage couldn't see you, and the closest table was about six or seven feet away. "You're right. This would be, like, the perfect table for some couple who's way too into PDA." You joke, your amusement somewhat fading when you watched his smile change. It didn't go away, no. It was a smile you'd only seen him wear when he was teasing you, but it looked different. Maybe it was the glint in his eyes as he leaned forward. He wasn't speaking, but he was saying enough. Your breath hitched. Suddenly, with just the change of a face, the noise in the room fell away. You found yourself drawn toward him by some unseen force, which soon became his hand on top of yours. He kissed you.

He flooded your senses as you closed your eyes, lashes brushing his cheek. His smell, his taste, the feeling of lips on your own made important only by the fact that they were his lips.

Then, it all came back. A punchline had hit— the room was filled with lazy laughter and hushed side conversation, but John was only focused on you. He was holding back a grin, you could tell. He was glowing. "I was going to wait until I walked you home." He confesses. You shake your head. "And miss how nicely I set it up for you?" He squeezed your hand, and you started to giggle, checking around the room to see if you'd drawn anyone's attention. Especially that nosy bartender.
If you thought the first half of the show was hard to keep your attention on, you'd be mistaken. After he kissed you, the only thing on your mind was that kiss. How easy it was. How you never could have predicted that he'd kiss you in the middle of a smoky little club, sitting at a back table like you were two teenagers sneaking around.

Some time later, you felt his eyes on you. He had leaned back in his chair, arms periodically folding and unfolding. "What?" You grin, hoping he'd kiss you again. He glances up at the stage and breathes. "Are you hungry?" The question felt so random, you started to laugh. "You know, actually, I am." You giggle. Suddenly, he stands, drawing surprisingly no attention as he plucks his jacket from the back of the chair and slides it on. "Me too, c'mon." You sharpen your whisper. "John, people are gonna see us leave!" You want to burst out laughing. It felt dumb, but you had been buzzing since your lips parted, and that playful look on his face only goaded your excited heart. The brunet shrugs, looking around the dim room. There was a doorway in the bricks, down the connected hallway of which he could see what you presumed to be an exit. "Then we can leave this way," He hissed back. "It's not that big of a deal!" He was stifling a laugh, too. He tugged you up by your wrist. Gently enough as to not hurt you, but firm enough to pull you to your feet and around the corner. Your chair scraped the floor loudly as you left, making you snicker as the two of you disappeared.

The hallway was narrow and dark, illuminated only by the exit sign's red LED lights and the glow from the bar you were leaving behind. The air itself felt thinner as you disappeared with John. Your heart drumming inside the cage of your chest, you stop to look at him. One side of his face shrouded in harsh, red light, and the other tinged by a soft, yellow haze that turned strands of his hair caramel, and cut down his cheek bone. His eyes were such a deep blue in this light. As if the walls of the short corridor hadn't forced you together enough, he surprised you yet again, shifting his hand to your upper arm and kissing you again. This time, Mulaney used his other hand to hook below your ear. His thumb rested on your cheek while his fingers delved into your hair. For days, you'd avoided dreaming of kissing him, and now you were shamelessly indulging in it. He kissed you again, and again. Your hands climbed his chest, until you simply threw your arms up over his shoulders. Back pressing against the cool, rough bricks, you breathed him in and reveled in his taste. Breathlessly, your cheeks burning, you pulled away. Though his eyes were dark, you could see his pupils blown wide, and his face was as rosy as yours. When he blushed, he was red from the tips of his ears across his freckled nose. It was adorable.  "So," You huff. "I'm thinking pizza."