Pairing: Justin and Chris
Words: psychedelic; impound; declare; chase


"Chris," Justin whines.  "I have a headache.  I don't *wanna* go
chase down the forces of evil."

"It's your sacred duty," Chris declares pompously.  Without looking
up from his comic book.

"Is not."

"Then don't go, I don't care."

"So stop nagging me already."

"I'm not nagging.  Just, y'know, you can't pass everything off as
a psychedelic LSD flashback.  Not everyone was alive in the 70s,
let alone dropping acid."

"*I'm* not the miserable bastard who woke someone up by jumping on
their bed yelling about impounding Joey's cookies."

"Eh.  I ate them all while you were in the shower."

Justin squeezes his eyes tight shut.  It doesn't help his headache
any.  "I hate you.  Really.  A lot."

"No, you don't.  He's bringing more.  Non-stale ones."

"He is?"  Justin rubs his temples.  "Okay, so I don't hate Joey."

"You wanted me to feed you the stale ones and keep the fresh ones
for myself?"

"You woke me up for stale cookies?"

"I woke you up to protect the innocent from evil."

Justin stares at him through pain-squinched eyes, trying to make
sense of that.  "You woke me up so I could protect you against
stale cookies?"

"No."  Chris tosses the bottle of Excedrin migraine to Justin. 
"Eat that."

Justin reads the label.  "Okay.  Never mind.  I love you."

"Sure, you do.  OJ in the fridge."

Justin gets up and heads for the fridge.

Chris laughs and watches Justin shamble, just a little.

Justin swallows two Excedrin with a swallow of OJ from the carton
and then grabs a can of Sprite.

Chris nods.  In a few minutes Justin'll be operational.  This is a
good thing.

Justin slumps back down on the couch, popping the top on the Sprite
and drinking numbly.

Chris moves to stand behind Justin, carefully massaging from his
temples down to his shoulders.  "You feel dizzy?"

Justin puts his head in Chris' hands.  "Nauseous."

Chris frowns.  "I'm worried about you, kid.  I probably
shouldn't've let you go to sleep at all."

Justin's forehead wrinkles.  "Why not?"

"You could have a concussion."

"Could not.  I didn't hit my head."

"Did too."

"Did not."

"Sure.  That big beam falling on you, that doesn't count."

"Nope.  Because it hit me.  I didn't hit it."

Chris laughs.  "Smart ass."

"Mm-hmm."

Chris bends over and kisses Justin's forehead upside down.  "I'm
sorry I let you get hurt."

"Yeah, 'cause it was all your fault the beam collapsed."

"It was my fault you were there, though."

"How?"

"Would you have gone there if I hadn't wanted to run away and
hide?"

"Well, no, but it could've been you who got hit just as easy as me. 
You didn't say, 'Hey, Justin, stand on the spot marked X'."

"Uh.  Yes, I did.  I said, 'Hey, Justin.  I wonder what would
happen if you stood on that X.'  And you said, 'What X?', so I drew
one."

"But not because you'd rigged the beam to fall or something.  You
were just being you."

"I suck," Chris offers.

"Really?" Justin asks, waggling his eyebrows.

Chris laughs.  "Are you sure?  If you're still nauseous, well.  I'm
not all about getting barfed on."

Justin grins.  "Yeah, right.  Only reason you're making the offer
is 'cause you know I can't take you up on it."

"You can't?" Chris asks, worried again.  "What's wrong?"

Justin rolls his eyes and then winces.  Ow.  "'Cause I have a
headache and I might throw up on you.  Duh."

Chris says, "You could lay on your side, I'd blow you."

Justin tilts his head all the way back so he can see Chris' face. 
"Yo, dude, are you serious?"

"Yeah."

"Wow."  Justin moves to lie down on the couch.

Chris moves around the couch and kneels down.  "Make sure you stay
on your side so you don't choke, okay?"

"I'm not really gonna throw up."

"You're not?  Are you sure?"

"Not absolutely one hundred percent sure, but yeah.  Mostly sure."

Chris nods.  "Okay, then.  Get comfy."

Justin nods, watching Chris with wide eyes.

Chris opens Justin's pants and bends over.  Justin's not really
hard yet, but that just makes it easier to get started.

Justin sucks his breath in at the sight of Chris' dark head bending
over him.

Chris looks up briefly, and then gets down to the business of
getting Justin off.

From the moment Chris' mouth surrounds his dick, Justin forgets all
about his head and everything else.  Warm, smooth, liquid... yeah.

Chris swallows because it's just the gentlemanly thing to do, but
he does wonder.  If he should have, if Justin's clean.

Justin chokes back a small amount of bile when Chris swallows, but
it's nothing, nothing at all compared to how good he feels. 
"Chris."

Chris moves up, stroking Justin's sweaty hair back.  "Shh, it's
gonna be okay."

Justin reaches out for Chris.  "C'mere.  Lie down with me?"

"Yeah, okay."  Chris lies along the edge of the couch, careful not
to smoosh Justin.

Justin wraps his arm around Chris and smiles.  "This a one-time
thing 'cause you're feeling guilty or are you maybe gonna stick
around?"

"Stick around."

"Okay.  'm gonna take a nap then."

"Okay.  I'll save Joey's cookies for you.  You wanna move back to
the bed?"

"Don't wanna move.  Don't want you to move either."

"Okay, here."  Chris shifts his arm under Justin's head and holds
him gently.  "Go to sleep."

Justin breathes in deep and closes his eyes.

Chris holds Justin while he sleeps and makes sure the ceiling
doesn't fall on them again.