Chris sat watching cartoons in the living room as he mowed down on some cereal. He knew it would only be a matter of time before the melt down. A few minutes from thinking this, it began.
The trudging down the stairs, the groans of pain, the mutters, the knocking into the wall. “Coffee is brewing on the counter.” Lance made a noise, which he construed as a sound of thanks. “There’s Advil on top of the microwave.” Another noise of appreciation. “Dry toast on a plate.” Lance snorted. “Well, don’t act like this is some regular event for you.” Chris muttered. “What?”
Chris put down his bowl of cereal and looked at the younger man. Oh boy, Chris thought, he’s all tan and jacked and sexy in his little white boxers with the hearts on them with his messed up hair. I bought him those. No, no! Stay strong. No more fucking around. But what an ass.
“It IS a regular event, Lance.” Lance rolled his eyes. “I’m not saying this to bust your ass, you ass.” Chris sighed and went back to his cereal. “I’m worried about you.” He heard footsteps come up to him and hand hesitantly reach out and then rub his wild hair. “Are you really?” Chris bit his lip. “Yeah.” he admitted quietly.
“Fuck,” Lance said, sitting next to Chris, “I’m sorry.” Chris shrugged. “I’m not an alcoholic, Chris. I swear to you, I’m not.” The older man nodded. “I believe you.” Lance sighed. “But you’re worried.” Chris shrugged. “Do you have to drink EVERY time you go out to one of your little things?” Lance scratched his head. “I’ll go a month without drinking to prove to you I can handle myself.” Chris rolled his eyes. “Okay Lance, I believe you.”
The blond smiled at his brown eyed lover. “I love you, even though you’re a hard ass.” Chris smiled. “Why doncha give the warden a kiss?”
Lance chuckled and leaned in for a kiss. He ran a hand over Chris’ cheek as he ran his hands through the sleep mussed, blond strands. Lance moaned as he felt Chris’ tongue slip in past his lips and let out a squeal when Chris took his boxer shorts strap and snapped it against his hip.
“You fucker!” he said, as he grabbed a pillow from the couch and started a pillow fight. Well, Chris thought as he was pummeled by the fluffy pillow, this definitely not the same as any other morning.
Oh, somebody already did this! Pout. But, one can never have too much Trickyfish, especially with snark, coffee and underwear, so here's another one: A Tale of Torment and Sweet Revenge
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Date: 2005-08-15 08:20 pm (UTC)The trudging down the stairs, the groans of pain, the mutters, the knocking into the wall. “Coffee is brewing on the counter.” Lance made a noise, which he construed as a sound of thanks. “There’s Advil on top of the microwave.” Another noise of appreciation. “Dry toast on a plate.” Lance snorted. “Well, don’t act like this is some regular event for you.” Chris muttered. “What?”
Chris put down his bowl of cereal and looked at the younger man. Oh boy, Chris thought, he’s all tan and jacked and sexy in his little white boxers with the hearts on them with his messed up hair. I bought him those. No, no! Stay strong. No more fucking around. But what an ass.
“It IS a regular event, Lance.” Lance rolled his eyes. “I’m not saying this to bust your ass, you ass.” Chris sighed and went back to his cereal. “I’m worried about you.” He heard footsteps come up to him and hand hesitantly reach out and then rub his wild hair. “Are you really?” Chris bit his lip. “Yeah.” he admitted quietly.
“Fuck,” Lance said, sitting next to Chris, “I’m sorry.” Chris shrugged. “I’m not an alcoholic, Chris. I swear to you, I’m not.” The older man nodded. “I believe you.” Lance sighed. “But you’re worried.” Chris shrugged. “Do you have to drink EVERY time you go out to one of your little things?” Lance scratched his head. “I’ll go a month without drinking to prove to you I can handle myself.” Chris rolled his eyes. “Okay Lance, I believe you.”
The blond smiled at his brown eyed lover. “I love you, even though you’re a hard ass.” Chris smiled. “Why doncha give the warden a kiss?”
Lance chuckled and leaned in for a kiss. He ran a hand over Chris’ cheek as he ran his hands through the sleep mussed, blond strands. Lance moaned as he felt Chris’ tongue slip in past his lips and let out a squeal when Chris took his boxer shorts strap and snapped it against his hip.
“You fucker!” he said, as he grabbed a pillow from the couch and started a pillow fight. Well, Chris thought as he was pummeled by the fluffy pillow, this definitely not the same as any other morning.
no subject
Date: 2005-08-16 04:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-16 03:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-16 03:03 am (UTC)A Tale of Torment and Sweet Revenge