Why John B Can't Stay Away

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The summer of 2019 began like it always did for JJ: new bruises and another broken phone. Nowadays, Luke was a real piece of shit, but see him with his wonderful, albeit rambunctious son, and you'd think he'd never been a decent human being once in his life.

JJ had little to look forward to and even less to pray for, seeing as he always ended up in the same position: up shit creek and without a paddle.

John B was what JJ prayed for. John B was what JJ looked forward to. The one thing that could muster up the smallest amount of happiness in the utterly broken teenager just so happened to be his apparently very straight best friend.

JJ could count on one hand the amount of times he'd looked forward to something not having to do with John B. The number he always came to was one. One thing: his mother returning to take him away from the complete shit show his father had turned JJ's once peaceful life into.

John B was, simply put, the best thing that could have ever happened to JJ. He was the one (1) person who believed that JJ deserved more than the life he had and the only person that believed he would end up doing something worth while with his half-assed education and his baggage piled high next to him, marked 'CAUTION: CONTENTS UNDER INTENSE PRESSURE; WATCH YOUR FUCKING MOUTH."

Because John B knows what happens when someone presses a little too hard into JJ's vulnerability. Like a soda can in the sun, shaken during the walk to the beach, JJ would simply explode. His abandonment issues, his daddy issues, his mommy issues. It would look like a crime scene: the blood JJ shed at his fathers hands and the tears he shed at his mothers, the debris covering anyone that witnessed the blow.

Luckily, John B always carried around the perfect clean up kit: himself.

One look at John B in the wake of one of JJ's explosions and it's as if JJ was suddenly submerged in water, decreasing the fall out of the forthcoming disaster.

The only part about a JJ-sized blow that John B hated —because c'mon, the kid deserved a little release every now and then— was the aftermath. The toxic radiation that followed the nuke-level explosion. The only problem John B had with it, was who the fallout affected: JJ.

JJ never once dragged out one of his scenes, throwing it up in the air after it happened. He simply let the toxicity consume him, enveloping his entire being in a deadly haze, one he brought upon himself. Why should anyone else suffer the consequences?

So, like the good friend he is, John B would put on his gas mask and dive right into JJ and pull him from the wreckage that could only be described as his sad life.

John B never let JJ sit beside himself for too long, worried that the troubled kid would think he didn't have someone to rely on in times of distress. Which, frankly, came around more often then times of comfort for JJ.

With the power JJ held inside himself, if he ever decided to tip the scale, the result of his explosion would be catastrophic: himself amongst the casualties. The boy could easily level the entirety of the OBX if he didn't have John B around the cushion the blow and round up the civilians for a city wide evacuation.

John B was JJ's fallout shelter. His shelter, whatever the conditions.

So, with all of that said and laid out in the open, JJ's vulnerability was a short, crooked fuse that had to be duct taped and rigged accordingly, or else it would short out and shock the people nearest to him.

I guess that explained the sparks John B felt whenever he touched the kid...

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Word Count: 654

EEEEEKKK i'm so excited to start this omg

i'll write whatever tbh, someone give me ideas!!!

gonna go consult a dear friend, enjoy this intro you beautiful little people❤️

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