Pairing: Lance and Chris
Words: contaminate; cymbal; gum bears; landslide


"I want to play the finger cymbals," Lance screams, staring up at
Chris.  "It's *my* turn!"

"Lord," Chris says.  "What did I ever do to you?  I was a good kid. 
Respectful to my mother.  Washed behind my ears and everything. 
What did I do to deserve *this*?"

Lance wails and stamps his feet.  He considers throwing himself on
the floor and flailing, but decides to hold that in reserve.

There's no answer from the ceiling, but then, Chris didn't really
expect any.  The ways of God are much more effective when they're
mysterious.  "No finger cymbals.  Uncle Chris is tired of finger
cymbals."

Lance sniffles and makes his lower lip wiggle and tears stand in
his eyes.  "You hate me."

"No, Lance.  Trust me about this one.  I don't hate you."  Anyone
who hated Lance would have drowned him an hour ago.

Lance sniffles again and sits down.

"Want some gum bears?" Chris offers.  He can deal with Lance on a
sugar high better than he can deal with Lance crying.

"Okay."  Lance smiles.

Chris smiles back at him, relieved.  Hell is having your secret
boycrush turn into a six-year-old on your first semi-date.  He gets
the gum bears out and sprinkles about half the package into Lance's
sweaty little hands.

Lance meticulously bites the ears off each bear.  Then the arms,
legs and head.  Then he eats the bodies.

Chris is pretty sure that he's supposed to scold Lance for being a
morbid little fuck.  Too bad he finds the way Lance eats his gum
bears endearing.

Lance offers Chris his last white bear.  It's intact and
everything.  "Want it?"

"Sure."  Chris holds out his hand.

Lance hands Chris the gum bear carefully.  "Those ones are the best
ones," he says.

Chris takes it.  "Thank you," he says solemnly.  The last piece of
candy.  The best piece.  Maybe grown-up Lance loves Chris back.

He eats it just like Lance did; ears, arms, legs and head.  He
holds the body out.  "You want?"

Lance giggles and shakes his head.  "S'okay.  You have it."

"Okay."  Chris eats it, then, because he can, picks Lance up and
tucks Lance over his hip.  "So," he asks conversationally, "have
you seen a little boy around here?  I was pretty sure there was one
here, but he seems to have disappeared."

Lance shakes his head, grinning.  "Nope.  Just old men like me."

"Old men?  Huh?  Who you calling old?"

Lance points over Chris's shoulder.

Chris turns around in a circle.  "I don't see anyone there."  He
gives Lance a suspicious look.  "I think you're seeing things."

"Nuh uh!"

Chris makes his suspicious look bigger, but spins around again. 
"Nope.  No one there."

Lance clings to Chris's shoulders and laughs, tipping his head
back.  "Spin me!"

Chris grins and complies, spinning Lance round and round until
they're both dizzy and laughing.

Lance collapses against Chris's chest finally.  "You're cool.  I
like you."

Chris falls back onto the couch, holding lightly onto Lance. 
"Feeling's mutual, kiddo."

Lance sighs and cuddles up against Chris.  "Wanna watch
cartooooons?"

"Sure."  Chris feels in the cushions for the remote.  "Lessee. 
Invader Zim, Blue's Clues or Spongebob?"

"Oddparents!"

"Not on.  Have to watch Zim first for them."

Lance sticks his lip out.  "Sad."

"You'll like Invader Zim.  Short guy trying to take over the
world."

"Is it about you, too?"

"Nope.  Invader Zim is about *you*."

"Me?" Lance asks, eyes all wide and surprised.

"Yup.  Short guy, incompetent assistant and thwarted at every turn
by a short, dark-haired guy who mutters stuff.  Totally about you."

"You twart me?"

"I try.  But you always win in the end."

"I do?"

"Well, sorta.  You never get to take over the world, but you always
beat me."

"I can have anything I want, except taking over the world?"

Chris considers this.  "Pretty much."

"Okay, good."  Lance grins.

Chris kisses the top of Lance's head and they watch Zim.  Chris has
seen this one before, but he doubts Lance has.  The adult Lance
doesn't make enough time in his life for cartoons.

Lance stares.  Oddparents is on next, and Lance bounces happily. 
It's a Chip Skylark one, too!  "Yay!"

"Really is your favorite, huh?" Chris asks.

"Chip is *dreamy*."

"Oooh," Chris teases.  "You like him.  Someone has a crush on
Chip."

"I can have anything I want," Lance says bossily.

"Except the world," Chris reminds him.  "If you could accept that,
I'd think we'd all be a lot happier."

"Don't want the world.  So I can have anything I want."

"Yep."  Chris' eyes narrow.  "And the finger cymbals.  No more
finger cymbals.  At least til Tuesday."

Lance giggles and lays on his stomach, feet up in the air.  "Shh,
cartoon."

Chris sshes.

Lance watches all the way through, rapt.

Chris strokes Lance's hair while they watch.  He's got all the Chip
Skylark shows on tape somewhere.  He'll have to dig them up if
Lance becomes difficult to handle.  Or if, like, he asks or
something.

The show ends.  "I want Chip Skylark," Lance says firmly.

"Okay."

Lance swarms into Chris's arms and hugs him tight.  "Good."

Chris hugs him close, treasuring the feel of tiny little arms
clinging to him.

Lance sighs sleepily.  "I'm kinda tired.  Not a lot, but kinda."

"Okay.  I'll find you a place to sleep."

"I wanna sleep with *you*."

"You have no idea how weird it is to hear those words coming out of
your mouth."  He thinks about it.  "Sure, why not?"

So, they sleep together.  It's late enough -- Nick at Night is just
finishing -- that Lance actually doesn't wake up until morning.  He
lays still against Chris for a long time, trying to remember how he
got into Chris's bed.  It's all a blank until Chris shifts and
murmurs something.  The day before returns in a landslide.  His
memories are confused, contaminated with a childish mindset.  He
lifts his head, looking at Chris.

Chris pats him sleepily.  "Ssh.  S'okay, Lance.  Go back t'sleep."

"Okay, Chip."

Chris mutters something, already mostly unconscious again.

Lance yawns and goes back to sleep with the confidence that he
really *can* have anything he wants.  Even Chip Skylark.