i was going to add to it, i'm lazy, and i wanted to share.
John liked cloudy days. He like taking the time out from scampering to and from his house to school to class to class back home to look up at the sky and search for the sun. He liked spending Sunday afternoons staring up at the sky, watching the white myriads of cotton transform from rabbit to car to snake to turtle and back. He liked soft breezes and placid skies.
...John liked silver linings.
Jesse liked watching storms build. He loved the sharp movements and the slow but determinded change from white to grey to black. He liked rain that fell like a judgement from God, hard and swift and unforgiving. He liked the feel of sharp grass poking into his back and the encompassing anger of thunder and climbing up in trees simply to defy something.
...Jesse liked lightning strikes.
John loved Jesse's old Camaro. He loved how the engine roared to life and the brakes squealed around every corner and constantly got him caught breaking curfew. He liked how it refused to start after the first snow of the year, like an old man complaining of arthritis. He loved the peeling blue paint job and the dents in the bumper and the AM only radio and the sprinkling rust spots on the passenger side door handle. He liked hearing Jesse complain about "the old bird" and swear at it when it broke down on a back road or how he always parked a block away from wherever they were going.
But more importantly, he loved the cracked seats that left cuts in his back every weekend beside his best friend's teethmarks. He liked the springs that dug into his sides as Jesse pushed him downdowndown into the seat and how the AM radio played "Mr Sandman" in harmony with their moaning.
The car smelled of beer and sex and sweat and the tires left skidmarks on the road in front of his house.
John tasted his lips, and they tasted of forbidden things.
They tasted of love.