(no subject)

[dizmo]

Okay, okay. So I'm gonna make a request.

Trickyfish. And lay on the snark.

:)

Comments

[learn-me.livejournal.com]

I hope this is what you were hoping for. It's been up a bit at my website, but I doubt you've run across it, or at least I hope not, anyway, otherwise this won't be any fun, will it? Anyway, it's probably a bit longer than ficlet size, so it'll be cut up into a few comments. Enjoy!


Bored


“Bored, bored, bored, bored, boooooored!” With more drama than finesse, Chris dropped onto the couch across from Lance. “I am so bored, I may die.”

“Could you, please?” Lance glanced up briefly from the pile of papers on his lap. “Or, I could just kill you – which I might – if you don’t find something to do.”

“I caaaaan’t,” Chris whined. “This place is boring. Bore, bore, bore, boooooring.”

Well used to Chris and his brand of melodrama, Lance went on flipping through the file as if his companion hadn’t uttered a word.

After several minutes of silence, a loud gusty sigh filled the room, followed quickly by another as Chris moved from one end of the couch to the next. He finally settled into a prone position, sighed again, scratched his leg, and began to hum, “Bbbbbbbbored, bbbbbbboring, bbbbbbbored, bbbbbbboring,” to the tune of ‘Bad to the Bone.’

Lance yawned, closed the file, and calmly picked up another.

“I am so bored, I just want to die. I am so bored, I might eat a fly.”

“I see you’ve been taking rhyming lessons from C again.”

Chris sent Lance a scathing look and continued, “Bbbbbbbbored, bbbbbbbbboring, bbbbbbbbbored, bbbbbbbbborning.”

Not in the least bit affected, Lance returned to his work and began to hum along.

“I hate you.”

“And this is news to me because?” Lance drawled.

“I never tell you that I hate you,” Chris protested.

“Uh huh.”

“I don’t.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t,” Chris insisted, and then backtracked. “Okay, so maybe I do sometimes, but not a lot.”

“Mm.”

“What? I don’t.”

“Okay, you don’t, because really when you think about it, every other sentence really isn’t a lot.”

“I hate you.”

“I rest my case.”

Silence descended on the room once more. Again, it was broken by a loud gusty sigh, more shuffling by Chris, who this time ended up with his legs up over the back of the couch and his head hanging off the front almost touching the floor.

“Bored, bored, bored, bored, boooooooored.”

“You could have stayed in Orlando.”

“It’s boring there.”

“Ahh, yes, as opposed to here, where you’re having all this fun.” Lance nodded, as if it all made perfect sense to him.

“Being with you is fun.”

“Uh huh.”

“It is.”

“Okay.”

“It is.”

“I believe you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Do not.”

“Okay, you’re right, I don’t.”

“I hate you.”

Lance didn’t even look up. “Tell me something I don’t already know.”

“C gives better blow jobs than you.”

Lance raised one perfectly groomed eyebrow. “Do tell.”

“Nope, I’m not.”

“Okay.”

“I hate you.”

“Mm.”

“No, really, I do. I hate you. You’re mean.”

“Like the Grinch, or Oscar the Grouch?”

“Both.”

“That’s really mean.”

“Yup. You’re the meanest of the mean, meanies.”

Lance thought about that for a minute, and then shrugged. “I can live with that.”

“I hate you.” Chris jumped off the couch and stomped to the door. “And I’m never going anywhere with you again,” he declared before storming out.

Lance shuffled the papers on his lap and grinned. “My work here is done.”

[learn-me.livejournal.com]

Part 2

And then he began to count backwards from five, as if on cue the door opened at one and Chris stuck his head back in.

“So, even though I’m never going away with you again, we are still on for the honeymoon portion of this trip right? Because even if C is better than you are at blowjobs and you’re mean, I do kinda, maybe still love you a little and-”

“I love you, too, Chris, and yes, we’re still on for that. But only,” Lance held up a hand before Chris could begin to celebrate, “if you find something to do for the next hour so I can get this work done.”

“Fine.”

“Good.”

“Good.”
“Fine.”

“Chris.”

“Okay, okay, I’m going.”

“Should I throw a party?”

“Man, you’re just plain old mean.”

“Yes, yes, I know, and you hate me. Thank you for reminding me of that again, Christopher. Now get, you pain in the ass.”

“Well, I hope not, but I suppose I could be if that’s what you wanted.”

Lance felt his lips twitch, but he held back the laugh bubbling in his throat.

“Go.”

“I’m goin’.”

Seconds ticked past but Chris didn’t budge.

“You’re still here.”

“I didn’t say a word.”

“I can hear you breathing.”

“I have to breathe, or I’ll die.”

“Now, there’s an idea.”

“You’d miss me.”

“I might, if you ever go away.”

“But you’ll be working, how can you miss me if you’re working?”

Lance placed a hand solemnly over his heart. “I’ll try as hard as I know how.”

“You will?” Chris smiled happily.

“I will.”

“Really?”

“Actually, no, I lied, hoping you’d go away if I told you what you wanted to hear.”

Chris glared at him.

“Are you going to tell me that Joey gives better blow jobs than me now?”

“Pfft. Joey is so fucking straight you could use him as a ruler.” An evil grin spread over Chris’ face. “Now, J, well, that’s an entirely different matter.”

“I think I may throw up.”

“J is hot.”

“J is,” Lance shuddered. “Ewww.”

“You have no taste in men.”

“Apparently.”

“I’m not talking to you anymore.”

“Please.”

“Bitch.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“I-”

“Yes, Chris, I know, you hate me.”

“That’s not what I was going to say,” Chris shot back smugly.

Tiring of the game, Lance said, “Okay, I’ll bite, what were you going to say?”

“I’m not telling you.”

Lance almost screamed, because really, this was getting ridiculous, even by Chris standards.

“One, two, three, four, five,-”

“What are you doing?” Chris asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“Counting to ten in the hopes that by the time I reach ten the urge to get up and kill you will pass.”

“You know you love me.”

Lance thought this over for a minute, a long minute. “Maybe, when you’re sleeping. You’re actually kind of cute when you’re sleeping.”

“I’m not cute when I’m awake?”

“Well.” Lance looked him up and down. “You’re sort of short, and hairy. And-”

“Fuck you, Bass.”

“No, actually, I’m beginning to think that’s not going to happen as you have yet to leave me alone and I still have all of this,” Lance gestured to the papers surrounding him, “work to do.”

“I hate your job.”

“Well, that’s a refreshing change from you hating me.”

[learn-me.livejournal.com]

And part 3:

Chris leaned against the doorjamb. “Do you really want me to leave?”

“No, Chris, I’ve only been saying that for the last, oh,” Lance checked his watch, “twenty minutes or so because I really love hearing myself talk.”

“You’re so sarcastic. I don’t know how you got to be that way, cause you never used to be.”

Gasping, Lance declared, “I can’t possibly imagine.”

“I’m not sarcastic, I’m snarky. Snarky is cooler.”

“It’s funny, don’t you think, that you knew exactly who I was referring to.”

Very deliberately, Chris stuck his tongue out at him.

“Very mature, Chris.”

“I never said I was mature.”

“You’re not kidding.”

“If I’m so bad, why is it that you go out with me again?”

“Temporary insanity?”

“That’s lasted three years?”

“It could happen.”

“JC could be straight, too.”

“You know,” Lance eyed his boyfriend over the rim of his glasses. “You’re awfully fixated on C today for some reason.”

“That’s because I’m thinking of trading you for him. He’s a lot nicer than you are.”

“I’m afraid that I can’t let you do that.”

“Because you love me too much.”

“Uhm, no, because I love him too much.”

“Bitch.”

“Well, yes. I thought we’d already established that?”

When Chris didn’t answer, Lance returned his attention to the correspondence in front of him. Within seconds he was lost in the world of filmmaking, so much so that he barely glanced up when Chris rose and went into the bedroom.

It was the utter silence of the hotel suite that finally penetrated his complete absorption with his work. A quick check of his watch showed him that some twenty minutes had passed since Chris had gone into the bedroom and Lance hadn’t heard a sound out of him.

Something wasn’t right.

Without a care for the papers on his lap, Lance swiftly rose from the couch and hurried into the other room.

He stopped dead in the doorway – and smiled.

Chris was laying dead center on the bed, his body curled around Lance’s pillow, sound asleep.

Tiptoeing over to the bed, Lance stood for a moment simply watching Chris sleep, before he slowly eased onto the bed beside him.

Chris, the lightest sleeper known to man, immediately woke.

“Hi,” he murmured sleepily.

“Are you sick?” Lance wanted to know, because that was the only time he could ever remember Chris sleeping during the day.

Chris shook his head.

“Then what are you doing sleeping during the middle of the day?” Lance asked.

“You said I was cute when I was sleeping, so-”

“Kirkpatrick, you are such a girl.”

“Takes one to know one,” Chris tossed back with a smirk.

“Yes, except that I’ve never braided my hair.”

“Even with braids, I looked more like a guy than you ever will.”

“Too bad you’ll never sound like one,” Lance smirked.

“I’m never talking to you again.”

“Promises, promises.”

Chris pouted over that for about two seconds, which Lance figured was about a full second longer than his normal attention span.

“I need to get back to work,” Lance told him and went to get off the bed.

Chris had other ideas. “Nooo,” he whined, latching onto Lance’s arm. “Stay here.”

“And do what, Chris? I’m not tired.”

Chris began smacking himself repeatedly in the forehead.

“Stop that,” Lance insisted, trying to grab at Chris’ hand. Within seconds he was flat on is back, trapped under Chris’ weight, completely unsure of how he’d gotten there.

“Chris, let me up.”

Chris merely grinned down at him.

“I’m not kidding, Chris. Let me up.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, I can’t.”

“You can.”

“Can’t.”

“Can.”

“Can’t.”

“Can’t.”

“Can’t.”

“Chris,” Lance growled.

“Ooo, do that again, it’s sexy.”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“I’d rather you’d,” Chris wiggled his eyebrows. “You know.”

“Not even if you beg.”

“Is that a challenge, Lance? Because you know, all I have to do is,” before Lance could dodge him Chris bent and began to lick and nip at Lance’s throat.

“I hate you,” Lance groaned.

Chris’ lips curved triumphantly. “And now, we’re even.”

[dizmo]

Oh squee! That was positively lovely! *hops up and down* Thank you thank you thank you!

[learn-me.livejournal.com]

Awww, thank you. I'm so glad that you liked it.