The Banks • OBX Oneshots

realistion • johnbxsarah

(AU where JJ just so happened to turn up when Sarah and John B, sorry, Val and Vlad, were in the library after their flirtation on the boat and shop. Ft JJ.)

Sarah probably should've been more prepared. Just a tadge. Because as far as men went, she wasn't the most experienced of women. Not many men tended to go for the kook princess with the long time boyfriend—no one was brave enough. Which was probably precisely why she was so unprepared for it. For him. For John B Routledge. 

You know, she hated him. She did! She hated his guts. He was stubborn, strong and stupid sexy.
No he's not.
He was. You'd have to be blind to not think so.

But Sarah was determined to be exactly that—blind. She had a job to do, they both did. They were finding the gold.

So how did it get to this? How did it get to them studying the evidence alone on the library table? And by alone, she meant with JJ

Yeah, with JJ. JJ, his best friend who thought she was his weird side thing.

"Bloody hell it's hot." JJ grabbed the fan and groaned, realising it was already turned up to max.
"Yeah, it is." Sarah pulled at the collar of her shirt, sifting through some of the papers, looking for something else on the gold. JJ had arrived quite randomly while she and John B had been working on the gold, and they'd moved quickly to hide the evidence and make it look like Sarah and John B had come seperately. It took one look at 'Vlad's' suit for JJ to dismiss that idea. John B was currently slumped in the chair beside her on his phone. When JJ had arrived, he'd slumped onto a chair by the windowsill on his phone.

"Sarah, why are you here? You're rich." JJ asked.
"Because it's gold." Sarah shot back.
John B muttered under his breath, "Because you're a kook princess."
Sarah shot him a glare, "Am not!'
Joyn B barely had to look up to meet her gaze and smirk. She narrowed her eyes. So did JJ. He turned so he was leaning over the back of the sofa at them.
"Did I like," he gestured to them, "Interrupt something when I came?"
Sarah felt herself get hotter, if that was even possible.
"No." She said.
"Yes." John B said.
She cursed under her breath. He was not helping. He simply looked up from his phone again, amused. She did not like the way he and JJ were looking at each other. And she definitely didn't like the way he made JJ look at her—like she was in the dark.

"So he is your type!" JJ laughed. Sarah slammed a book closed, wishing for a dozen more fans as her body flushed.
"No!"
John B laughed under his breath, making her turn to him.
"Now what is that supposed to mean?" She demanded. He simply shrugged, keeping his eyes glued to his phone.
"That you're a liar."

She twitched.
He knows. She thought. He knows he's hot.
And that was never good.

Since that little comment, she'd left her work in favour of standing by JJ next to the wide-open window. The breeze in itself was a godsend. Every fan in her apartment was going at full blast. But even so, she wasn't ready. Wasn't prepared.

JJ was talking to John B about some sort of rude customer or something when her eyes had drifted over to John B, still sat by the table. Or he should've been. Instead, he was sat on the table, cross-legged.

He was looking at the papers now, and while he sat there, not a care in the world, she was getting more flustered by the second. His messy brown hair was blowing slightly in the fan, forcing him to rake it off his forehead, one which was beaded with sweat. He looked between papers, groaning a little with the heat. Dropping them, he shrugged his jacket off and tossed it onto the chair. Sarah's lips parted.

He was fit. He was really fit.

Since they'd met, it had been chilly and full of winter and spring blues—he always wore a jacket or hoodie. But now, right now, he was sat on her table spinning a pen in his fingers with a vest on. One that hung dangerously low under his arms.

And he was fit. He was really, really, stupid fit.

And the sweat wasn't helping. It glistened in every little ripple of the toned muscles in his arms and back. He leaned down, writing something, giving her a great view of his strong, sturdy shoulders, the way they moved as he breathed and wrote making her squirm. That and the deep tan skin, pale brown eyes and single little loop in his ear, all tied in the stupid little bow that was his curly brown excuse for a hairstyle, made her flush from head to toe.

Then he looked at her. He simply smirked and blinked painfully slowly. Unwittingly, she released the lower lip she didn't even know she'd started assaulting. He stopped twirling the pen. Why? JJ was speaking. He turned to see John B, snorted and looked back at Sarah.
"I'm gonna go." JJ said. Sarah snapped her attention back to him, wide-eyed with fear. No! He couldn't leave her with...him! Not now! Even JJ was a welcome distraction at this point.

He smirked as he grabbed his hoodie and headed for the door, glancing at John B. He looked him up and down, and then Sarah, who'd followed him to said door.
"Because you think he's hot and he's making you horny. Case closed, door closed." JJ shut the door behind him.

Silence.
John B broke it, the grin evident even when she couldn't see him, "I'm making you horny?"
She raised a hand, back to him, "Shut up."
She heard his feet hit the floor as he slipped off the table in those cargo pants.
"Am I?" He asked, voice much closer than before. Still, she stayed staring at the door.
"No." Her voice betrayed her. His breath arrived by her shoulder, coasting over her neck. He rubbed her shoulders with his rough fingers. She shuddered.
"You're really hot." He said, feeling the sweat of the day. She turned her head slightly, struggling to fight against the hope he was talking about the weather and the hope he wasn't.
"So are you."

She felt him lean in, she heard him let out a slow, tantalising breath.
"Can I..." He drifted off. Her breath hitched.

She should've been prepared. Maybe if she'd been prepared she wouldn't have turned around. Maybe she wouldn't have let their burning, heat-stricken lips collide.

But then again, she would've never gotten to feel how slick and burning it was under that shirt.

When he slammed her into the wall and leaned in for her neck, he'd murmured if she was okay.

If the heat wasn't hot enough to melt her, that was.