John had eaten too many hamburgers. Hell, he'd eaten too much of everything. Phil hadn't said anything, just watched biting his lip ring, thinking of his fate later if John went back for another helping of baked beans. He stifled a laugh and took a swig of Pepsi as John got up and did just that. Phil decided to focus on other more pleasant things, such as John's round ass or the way his hips and thighs moved as he came back to the table looking bewildered at the light heat that was turning his lovers face pink.
"Somethin' wrong darlin'?" The Texan asked, sitting back down and taking his hat off for a moment to wave it near his face, a failed attempt at cooling himself.
"Nothing at all." Phil mumbled. He leaned on his elbow watching John eat. The bigger man wasn't even aware. He'd gotten into a rowdy conversation with good ol' J.R. and was focusing his full attention between Jim and his food. With a sigh, Punk blindly reached for his Pepsi, not noticing the glass in his hands rather than plastic. He brought the bottle to his lips and took a big pull before spewing it all over John.
Phil looked at the bottle in his hand, glaring when he saw Budweiser. He jerked his head around, finding Jeff, Matt, and Chris all trying to pull of suspiciously innocent faces. At the same time John spun around in his chair, knocking his plate into his lap. That did it for The Three Stooges keeping their cool. The Hardys and Jericho all cracked up in a gale of hoots and hollers intensified by the number of beers they'd already guzzled.
"Phil…is there a reason ahm wearing this?" John pointed down to his lap where his Styrofoam plate was overturned. "Not to mention…" He looked up at the sky, squinting. "Ah think its rainin' moonshine."
Matt banged his fist on the table laughing harder, rattling the things on it, and Chris fell off the end of the bench grasping at his sides as he rolled around like a dying thing. Jeff was laying his forehead against Matt's shoulder, giggling so hard he was sobbing.
"That's why I'm straight edge." Phil shook his head and grabbed a few napkins. He picked John's plate out of his lap and started to clean him up.
"What?" The raven haired man stopped scrubbing at John's thigh and just blinked at him. Now it was the Texan who was red faced.
"Ah can take care of this." He grabbed napkins of his own and with a curl of his lip started to cleaning the mess himself.
The evening wore on, John hobnobbed with people and tried to pretend there wasn't a huge ketchup stain on his khaki pants, and Phil tried to drink all the Pepsi's in attempts to get the disgusting taste of beer off his tongue. The summer light slowly faded to shadows, and Glen and Mark started to set off fire works. Adam, Jay, Jeff, and Matt were all drunkenly chasing each other with bottle rockets. Chris was whining because he wanted in on it, and Jeff accidentally (or maybe on purpose) launched a bottle rocket at the blond. It caught him in the crotch and his high-pitched shriek gained everyones attention, followed moments later by a groan as he whacked at the smoke trail curling from his fly, and whacked more than he'd bargained for. He crumpled to the ground and Matt was at his side, struggling not to giggle too much at his assclown antics.
"Hey John." Phil smirked, turning to his lover who had a piece of cake striped red, white, and blue with icing. The straight edged one nudged John in the belly.
"Hrmph?" John replied over a mouthful of desert.
"Wanna play with bottle rockets?"
"Ah don't think that's a good idea darlin'." John smiled, setting his plate down and wrapping his arm around Phil. He led the young man a little further away from everyone else, from their sparkler duels, bottle rocket wars, loud conversations, and braying laughter. John scoped out the falling darkness and soon found the perfect spot under a large tree. He sat down cradled between its large roots and drew his young lover into his lap, nuzzling at his neck. Phil grinned, and swiped his tongue over Johns pouty lips.
"You had icing." Phil commented, as though he had to explain his actions.
"Y'missed some." John smirked, kissing his Punk feverishly. He pulled away only when he started to feel dizzy from lack of breathing, and nipped a Phil's lip ring.
"Don't you want to watch the fireworks?" Phil asked, turning briefly and startling when one shot with a whoosh into the sky, blossoming into a weeping willow of color, the bang coming moments later. John held Phil's chin and turned his face back towards his own, eyes sparkling like jewels in the moonlight.
"Ah don't wanna watch 'em baby, ah wanna make 'em." The Texan answered, pulling Phil's hips downwards. Phil moaned at what he felt between Johns legs, prodding at his rear. Phil rolled his hips against his lover, causing the bigger man to close his eyes and grip tufts of grass between his fingers. Against the black, velvety back drop of the night, colors exploded in fiery rain, the whistle, crackle, and bang of their celebratory voices drowning the heated breathing of two lovers.