Pairing: JC and Chris
Words: motion sickness; enviable; buckle; wet dream


JC clutches at Chris with one hand, clawing at the buckle of his
seat belt with the other.  When Chris slows down and swerves toward
the side of the road, JC's ready.  They skid to a stop and he jumps
out of the car to be sick in the bushes.  Motion sickness sucks.

Chris taps on the steering wheel in indecision, then gets out.  He
kneels down next to JC.  "Hey."

JC wipes his mouth with a shaking hand.  "Sorry," he says, voice
rough.

"S'okay.  I forgot that you get like that when there's lots of
corners."

JC nods weakly and sighs, straightening.  "Sorry.  I'm okay now." 
He staggers to his feet and breathes carefully, mountain air
filling his lungs.

Chris puts his hand on JC's back.  "You sure?"

"Yeah."  JC nods determinedly.  His hair falls into his eyes and he
shoves it out of the way.  "I'm good."

"Cool.  'Cause we've still got a ways to go."

JC nods.  When Chris heads back around the car he shivers.  He
climbs back in and buckles his belt, forcing himself to count his
breaths, rather than watch or not-watch the scenery rush by.

Chris consciously tries to drive slower.  It's tough, because the
car really wants to fly and these corners are just begging for it. 


"It's okay.  You can go fast.  It doesn't actually matter how fast
we're going."

Chris doesn't.  "Makes it worse, though, doesn't it?"

"Not appreciably."

"Well, fine then."  Chris goes back to his previously mode of
driving -- no brakes, just using gravity and the gas pedal to get
his through it.  Brakes are for wusses.

JC closes his eyes.  He won't make Chris stop again.

"It's worse, isn't it?" Chris asks, after a moment.  "'Cause you
look worse.  Green isn't your color, man."

"It's the same.  It's the turns that matter, not the speed."

"But I take the turns faster when I'm speeding," Chris says
reasonably.

JC doesn't answer, just shakes his head a little.

"Fine.  Be like that."  Chris closes his mouth and keeps driving
like a maniac.

JC was telling the truth. It's not knowing which way he's headed
that makes him feel so sick.  And the faster Chris drives, the
faster they either stop or get out of the mountains.

JC doesn't clutch at his wrist or start making gagging noises
again, so Chris keeps driving.  His lips are tight though and he's
thinking nasty thoughts about JC that JC probably doesn't deserve,
but he really hates being worried about JC and not being able to do
anything about it.

Finally a gas station looms out of the night.  Chris pulls in.  JC
takes a minute to be offended that gas is $4.75 a gallon, then
walks to the bathroom.  Quickly.

Chris goes inside and looks through the small store's offerings. 
He buys a couple of cans of 7-UP, because they're supposed to be
good for nausea, and some antacids and -- ooh.  Dramamine.

JC makes his way into the store, feeling better now that he's been
still for a while.  Chris is holding a handful of things he doesn't
like.  JC smiles.  "You're sweet."

"Just trying to keep you healthy and every little girl and boy's
wet dream."

"I hope not."  JC loads up on chocolate and Mt. Dew, the things
Chris likes.  He also finds a plain chicken breast sandwich he can
eat later and adds it to the haul.

Chris dumps his stuff on the counter and then sees what JC's got. 
"Hey, thanks.  I was just about to go back and get that."

JC smiles and says, "Thank *you*."

Chris grins at him and buys all of their stuff.  He makes JC carry
it to the car, though.

JC carefully situates things so that Chris can get to his without
taking his eyes off the road.  JC doesn't like driving in
mountains.

"Almost out of the mountains," Chris says on cue.  "Take some of
the Dramamine with the 7-Up.  It might make you feel better."

JC does, even though OTC pills kinda make him nervous, like he's
gonna use them wrong.  "Don't eat my sandwich, okay?"

Chris grabs a candy bar instead.  "I wouldn't eat your sandwich,"
he says.  "Now, poor defenseless unclaimed sandwiches just lying
around would be a different matter."

"I claim my sandwich," JC says, smiling.

"See?  Now it's perfectly safe from me."

JC laughs, loud like the hyena he's getting used to being compared
to.  "Where are we stopping tonight?"

"Some place that has a McDonald's?"

JC rolls his eyes.  They start down the mountain and he goes back
to trying to keep his stomach on the inside of his body.

"The whole purpose of a road trip," Chris explains, in a better
mood now that JC seems to be less likely to puke, "is to have an
adventure.  And to eat at every McDonald's between here and
wherever we're going."

JC sips 7-Up and listens to Chris talk.  "Right."

"And if you watch HBO in all the motel rooms and drive without
stopping except to sleep and eat, then your plan is complete. 
You've successfully managed to cross the country without
experiencing anything you couldn't have gotten at home."

"Why would you want to do that?"

"I didn't say I *wanted* to do that.  It's the great American
tradition."

"You're Scottish.  Break the tradition."

"But, C.  How are you ever going to learn to be a real boy if you
don't learn the great traditions?"

"I'm a rebel."

"Wearing pink after Labor Day does not count as rebellion."

"Wearing pink sparklies in public on national television does."

"Okay."  Chris concedes the point.  "So you're a pink sparkly
rebel.  What does the pink sparkly rebel wish to do on this road
trip?"

"Yellowstone?"

"Hmm.  Too many small children, stinky egg smell and phallic
geysers.  Sure, why not?"

JC opens his eyes and bounces.  "Really?"

Chris gives him a fond smile.  "Whatever makes you happy, babe."

JC smiles again, reaching out to touch Chris's arm softly. 
"Thanks."  He thinks having Chris like you is a very enviable
thing.

Chris takes a hand off the wheel, reaches over and squeezes JC's
thigh.

JC sighs, propping his head against the seat back.  Chris's hand is
warm and strong.  JC finds himself falling asleep.  If he's lucky
he won't wake up until they're out of the mountains.

Chris hums quietly to himself and keeps on driving.

"Are we there yet?" JC asks as the car stops.

"No," Chris says.  "But we're out of the mountains.  C'mon, let's
get you a nap in a real bed."

"Yay, no mountains," JC mutters, following Chris into the hotel.

Chris gets them a room and leads JC up the stairs.  Literally,
because JC keeps closing his eyes and Chris has to put an arm
around him to keep him upright.

JC leans against the wall as Chris unlocks the door.  He obediently
staggers toward the bed, finding it by tripping onto it.  Then the
lights come on and he notices -- there's only the *one* bed.

Chris turns around after tossing his keys on the table.  He notes
the bed and shrugs philosophically.  "The guy must've given me the
wrong key.  I told him two doubles.  You want me to go fix it, or
are you too tired to move?"

"Chris, you should sleep with me.  I'm very good at it."

"Too tired then?  We'll keep this one then.  And you don't need to
convince me you're good at sleeping."

"Sleeping with people, too."  JC toes off his shoes and starts
tugging at the buttons of his pants.

"I can't decide.  Is that a proposition or not?"

"Sure."

Chris kicks off his shoes and strips off his shirt and his shorts. 
He sits down on the side of the bed and pets JC's hair as he looks
for the menu of services.  This place probably doesn't have room
service, but it maybe has a list of places that deliver.  "That's
nice, C.  Go to sleep."

JC's pants finally come undone, which is good enough for sleep.  He
curls up against Chris.  "Really, though.  Later, maybe."

Chris laughs and keeps petting.  "Sure, baby.  Maybe later."

"Good."

Chris finds the list of delivery places, but JC's even breathing is
soothing.  And he had lots of candy in the car.  He sets the folder
aside and, getting under the covers, lies down next to JC where
it's warm and comfortable.  He surrounds himself in JC's breathing
until he falls asleep.

JC is having a wet dream.  This is nothing unusual.  He wakes up
and the dream is real.  That's very unusual.  "Chris?" he whispers.

Chris wakes up slowly.  "Hmm?"

"Will you sleep with me now?"

Chris grumbles.  "Trying to sleep now."

"Oh.  Um.  Sorry."  JC bites his lip and starts to draw back from
where he's pressed against Chris.

Chris wraps an arm over JC and snuffles into his neck.  "Where're
you going?"

"I'm gonna jerk off in the bathroom," JC says.

"Oh.  Cool."  Chris puts his leg over JC's and lets his eyes fall
all the way shut again.

JC struggles, trying to get away.  "Chris?  Chris, let go."

Irritated, Chris pulls away, awake now.  "You *said* you wanted to
sleep."

"Wanna *sleep with you*," JC repeats.  "Like we talked about
before.  But if you're tired, I'm gonna go to the bathroom."

Chris really is awake now.  "You want to have sex."

"Yes."  JC voice becomes a little strident.  "Lemme go, Chris. 
Pretty please?  If you don't want me, I wanna..."

"So what you're saying is that I can let you go jerk off, or we can
have sex right here, right now?"  Chris is grinning.

"Chris, stop making fun of me."

Chris lies down on top of JC.  "Oh, no.  I was promised sex.  I
clearly heard that.  Let the sex begin."  He works his knee between
JC's legs and begins humping him.

JC moans and tips his head back, working up against Chris with
equal fervor.  "Chris, oh, please, yes."

"Geez, you're easy," Chris mutters and bites along JC's jaw.

JC freezes.  "I'm not," he says voice small.  He wants to shiver
and buck at the touch of Chris's teeth, but this is important.

Chris senses that his quarry is having second thoughts.  He works
his hand down and strokes JC's dick through his pants.  "You're a
horny fucker."

"But... but I'm not easy," JC pants, eyes locked on Chris's face. 
"Chris, I'm not."

"You propositioned me," Chris points out reasonably, still rubbing
JC's dick.

"I'm not a whore."  JC reaches out to cradle Chris's face.  "It's
you.  I love *you*."

"Whoa."  Chris' hand stills.  "So you're saying this wasn't some
sort of random impulse thing?  Like, 'Hey, I'm horny, here's Chris,
let's do it?'"

"Nuh uh."  JC blinks and pushes Chris's hair back from his face. 
"It's *you*."

"Is not," Chris says almost automatically, but he's leaning into
JC's touch.  "If it was, you would have done something special. 
Like tell me first.  Not just want to sleep with me."

"I drove through the mountains with you."

"That doesn't mean you like me... Okay, yeah.  I see your point. 
Deliberately enduring vomiting for someone is a sure sign of true
love."

"I want to be with you.  I'm tired of not being with you."

"So that's why you came with me."

"Yeah.  I thought I could just hang out with you, if nothing else."

"And pounce on me when I'm sleepy and defenseless, huh?" Chris
says, but his eyes are soft and he's stroking JC's cheeks now
instead of his dick.

JC flushes a little, but nods.  "Yeah.  You're so pounceable."

"I'm very pounceable," Chris agrees.  "So do we need to have some
sort of big relationship talk, or do you just want to deal with
that when it comes up?"

"Are you gonna freak out and dump me over anything?"

"Probably.  I do stuff like that.  Are you gonna try to stop me?"

"Yeah."

"Well then.  We're good."

"Okay."  JC beams out his squinty-eyed smile.  "Sex?"

"I dunno.  I think maybe I want dinner and a movie first," Chris
says.

"Okay.  Take out and pay per view work?"

Chris giggles.  "I love you, C.  You're so romantic.  Screw it. 
Let's have sex."

"'kay!"

Chris leans down and kisses him.

JC kisses back, legs parting as he dedicates himself to sleeping
with Chris.  After all, JC did say he was good at it.  And he is.

"Pretty, pretty baby," Chris murmurs, and is content.