Songs To Sing- John Frusciante

6

April 6, 1991

John

I needed her, in what felt like every sense of the word.

She made us take a cab before everyone else in the band left for the hotel on the bus, her hand dancing in mine and over my thigh the whole ride. Her backpack sat between her feet, and I'd watched her pack a small makeup bag carefully with her belongings. "You do want to have fun, right, Frusciante?" She eyed me suspiciously as I watched her on the bus, winking.

Pencey pulled me out of the cab after paying the driver the fare, making me stand behind as she pleaded with the receptionist to let her have only one key from the group that we reserved.
"Please, come on," Pencey whined, "here's my ID, the reservation, everything. I only need one of the rooms. The others are gonna be here in, like, an hour."

"I'm sorry, dear," the woman said through a thick accent that almost sounded Scottish, "everyone in the party needs to be present."

"God fucking- John, will you help me here?" Her face was bright red when she turned around to me, trying with all her might not to strangle the woman across the desk. 

I shook my head quietly, arms crossed. "I think we're going to have to wait, Pence."

"John, help me. I can't- we can't explain any of this to them!"

"Hold on," I pushed myself off the wall I had leaned on. "How many rooms did they reserve?"

"3, sir."

Pencey's head snapped to me. "They forgot a room."

"We'll take a king room, please."

***

Somewhere between the elevator and our room, Pencey had clung to me, her mouth attached to my neck as I fumbled with the key, finally pushing the door open with my foot. I threw her bag inside, pushing her up against the wall hastily as the door slammed shut. Her head fell back, letting me kiss her neck and collarbones.

"Did I hurt you?" I asked between kisses, sensing how her breathing shifted.

"It isn't interesting if it isn't rough, John." She pulled my head back by my hair, making me gasp. Her legs snaked to the floor, lowering herself to standing height. "So make it rough."

No other words had to be said before I threw Pencey down on the bed, wrinkling the sheets effectively in the process. She immediately wrapped her legs around me and pulled off my shirt as I brought myself up to her, kisses trailing down her stomach. I reached for her jeans, placing a kiss right under her belly button as I unbuttoned them. She giggled.

"What?"

"Tickles."

"So you aren't all 'rough and tumble', then? You're the last person I would have expected to joke around in bed."

"You seemed tense, John. I can go back to being silent. It just seemed like you were into, y'know, rougher sex."

I shook my head, kissing again and blowing a raspberry, making her let out a shouting laugh. "I like your voice. And no, I just thought you liked rougher sex. We're bad at communicating."

She lifted her waist just high enough for me to pull her jeans off, her eyes following them as they flew across the room. "Now you're gonna be talkative and shit?"

"Yes. Yes, I am." I planted a kiss on her core through her underwear, the smile on her face shooting into a look of pleasure. "You're already so wet, Pence, God."