Pairing: Howie and Chris
Words: domino; emerald; cuddle; fate


It started, as all truly great plans start, with boredom.

Joey and Lance had been lured onto the three-man bus with promises
of fun, good times and, in Lance's case, Chris not leaving his
laptop by the side of the road to be run over.

It probably wouldn't have worked except they were more than a lot
bored.  From there, it was only a small step to complete insanity.

"No," Justin said, "let's play Truth or Dare Dominoes."

"Truth or Dare?" Chris asked, eyebrows raised.  "C'mon."

"Hey, it's better than your idea."

"My idea totally rocks!"

Justin sniffed.  "Strip Dominoes.  There's just something really
really wrong with that, yo."

"Chris has a point," Joey said.  "Sorta.  Truth or Dare Dominoes
isn't all that much better."

"Yeah, it is.  This way I don't have to see your underwear or smell
Chris' feet."

Chris took off his socks and stuck -- or attempted to stick -- his
feet in Justin's face.  "Bow before the power of the mighty
Kirkpatrick!  I always knew you were a foot fetishist, Timberlake."

Justin shoved Chris onto the floor, but at that point, the choice
of game was pretty much moot, and it was just a case of recruiting
the other players.

Lance, in particular, since JC had learned a long time ago just to
go along with whatever Chris and Justin wanted and hope their
attention span wore out before his patience did.

Chris wrapped his arms around Lance's neck and breathed in his ear. 
Lance ignored him, working on his laptop.  Chris licked his ear.

"No," Lance said firmly.  "Down.  Bad Chris."

"Aw, c'mon, Bass, you know you want to."

"Don't you people have anything normal to play?"

"We're bored of normal games."

"How about Playing Dead?  Or Being Really Really Quiet So Lance Can
Work?"

"Boring!"

"But you never play either of those games," Lance said reasonably. 
"They'd be different."

"We never play them because they're boring.  And we're bored."

"I'm not bored.  I'm irritated, yes, but not bored."

Chris adjusted his hold so that he could noogie Lance's head.

Lance didn't seem impressed.  "Have you ever thought that maybe
you're bored because you're boring?"

Chris stepped back, feigning shock that was wasted on Lance, who
was turned toward the table and not looking at him.  "Bass!  You
wound me!  Besides, you're the boring one.  Everyone knows that,
right?"  He looked around for support.  "J?  C?  Joe?"

"Boring."

"Boring."

"I don't wanna say.  I have to share a bus with him and he might
smother me in my sleep if I agree with you."

"Cop-out!" Chris said, then renewed his assault on Lance.  "So,
Lancey-poo?  Everyone thinks you're boring.  You have to play."

"Do not."

Chris slid between Lance and the table.  "Sure you do."  He reached
behind him, snapped the laptop shut, then unplugged it and tossed
it and the cell phone that had been sitting next to it over to
Justin.  "J, stash those someplace."  Chris turned his gaze on
Lance.  "Hah!  Now you have to play."

"I don't see why," Lance said sulkily.  "I could've stayed on the
other bus.  Got stuff done.  You don't need me."

"Face it, Bass.  You came over to the Bus O' Fun because you were
bored."

"Was not."

"Were too."  Chris threw himself on Lance's lap, squirming until he
was turned about, stretched back, head lolling against Lance's
shoulder and bright eyes looking up at Lance.  "Not bored now, are
you?"

"I wouldn't use the term *bored*, no."

"See?  It's working then."  Chris slipped off of Lance's lap before
he could be shoved off.  He'd seen that particular flash of emerald
in Lance's gaze before, and he knew how to get when the getting was
good.  "Dare or Dare Dominoes it is!"

****

Chris frowned at the board.  Pouted at it a little.  It didn't
change.  He'd just lost, and that was obviously impossible.  "You
cheated."

"Prove it," Lance said smugly.

Yeah, he should've known better than to thwart Lance.  "So, what's
my forfeit?" Chris asked.  "Mooning passing cars?  Singing the
entire Buffy musical backwards?  Both?"

Lance held out his hand to Justin.  "Phone," he said, like a
surgeon.

Justin snapped the cell phone into it.  "Phone!"

Lance handed it to Chris with a toothy smile.  "Call Howie.  Tell
him you've always wanted his hot bod and ask him to fuck you."

"You evil bastard."  Chris backed away very slowly from the crazy
people.  He didn't take the phone from Lance.  "Uh-uh.  Not gonna
do it.  You can't make me.  Besides, you don't have his phone
number."

"A, you have to," Justin said.  "Dude, you totally lost that
round."

"Lance cheated!"

"Did not," Lance said.  "You just suck."

"And B," Justin said, holding out his hand.  Lance reached into his
pants pocket, pulled out his Pocket PC and slapped it into Justin's
hand, "we have his number.  You are so totally calling one Mr.
Howard Dorough up right now and asking him out."

JC cleared his throat.

Justin corrected himself.  "Asking him to make wild monkey love to
you by the pale moonlight."

Chris threw JC a betrayed look.  "Et tu, Chasez?"

JC smiled at him.

Chris stuck out his tongue, took the phone and dialed the number
Justin read to him from the Pocket PC.  It rang once.  Chris hung
up and dropped the phone on the couch.  "He's not there.  New
game."

"Uh-uh.  You aren't getting out of it that easily."  Lance picked
up the phone and hit redial.

"Better check the number," Justin advised.  "He might have called
a pizza parlor or something.  He's sneaky that way."

"Fucker."  Chris wished he thought of it.  How long had Timberlake
been doing that and getting away with it?  Fucker.

Justin stuck out his tongue at him.

A long fucking time, apparently.

Lance carefully redialed the phone, waited for an answer, then
handed it to Chris.

Chris made a face at them, then squeaked indignantly into the
phone.  "I am *not* a heavy breather!  No!  Why, do you get a lot
of heavy breathing calls?  You do?  Do I breathe sexy?  I do *not*
have asthma.  Shut up.  No, you shut up.  No, you... Yes, it's
Chris.  Couldn't you guess?  Um, why am I calling?  Well, see,
here's the thing.  You wanna maybe havehotmonkeysexwithmesometime? 
I knew you wouldn't; I thought it was a stupid..."  Chris squeaked
again.  "You do?  You do not!  Okay, so you *do* want to have hot
monkey sex with me.  Um... yeah.  We're on tour, right.  Somewhere
between, um..." Chris looked out at the window, "Buttfuck, Nowhere
and Bumfuck, Nowhere, by the looks of it.  Yeah?  I can do that. 
I... okay.  I *could* do that if I had any idea where we were going
to be then, but since I don't..."  Lance silently handed him a copy
of the tour schedule.  "Howie?  On the fourth, we'll be in
Syracuse, but it's not like you could get the time to...  You
will?"  Chris squeaked yet again.  "Uh-huh.  Sure.  Yeah. looking
forward to it."

He hung up and lobbed the phone at Lance, who caught it. 
"Fuckers."

"You are so getting laid," Justin said.

"Great," Lance said drily.  "Maybe now he'll stop groping me."

"Aw, are you feeling left out of the Kirkpatrick lovin'?" Chris
said, because, yeah, teasing Lance was easy and familiar.  It
didn't mean anything; he could cuddle Lance, jump in his lap,
proposition him, do or say just about anything and it was all just
in good fun.  For the most part.  Unlike... He didn't want to think
about it.  Fate was a witty motherfucker.  He'd been avoiding Howie
for years now, more or less unconsciously.  And now... yeah.  Not
thinking about it.  "I promise, Bass, no matter what happens with
Howie, there'll always be something left over for you."

"Oh, joy."

Chris made a face at him and swept the dominoes back into the box,
covered it up, and shook it.  "Gentlemen, another round.  It is
absolutely imperative that we beat the Bassmeister so we can do
something about his utter smug gitness."

"I don't think it's fixable," Justin said.

"And I like my smug gitness just the way it is," Lance said, but he
sat down anyway.

"Aha!  Is that a smile I see?  My plan is working.  You're having
a good time."

Lance gave him a sweet, sweet smile.  Chris felt very afraid.  "I
always have a good time when I'm with you, dear."

"You take that back!  J, Lance is hitting on me!  Make him stop."

Lance smiled even more sweetly.  "No, I'm not.  If I were hitting
on you, you'd know it."  And started to sidle toward Chris.

Chris eeped and hid behind Joey.  Oh, yeah, riling the wild Bass
was never a safe thing to do, but Chris sure as hell wasn't bored
anymore.