Charades (no sex, no homosexuality)
"I hate People."
"Hey, I'm a people and you like me." Richie scowled at David as he flopped down on the couch next to him.
"Not people. People. Stupid goddamned gossip rag, capital P."
"What'd they do? It do? They? It? Dammit. Why are you cranky?"
"It, I think. And Heather and I are back together."
"Really? Rich that's awe - " at the ever-darkening thunderstorm playing across Richie's face, David stopped. "Oh. That's why you hate People."
Richie sighed. "And if we'd been at that game and sat apart from each other and not spoke, we'd be in the middle of a vicious fight, a couple of selfish assholes who don't care about Ava. Why didn't you have to deal with this shit?"
"There are some advantages to being 'that poofy fag in the back', I guess. I'm not popular enough for people to care. Woo-hoo keyboards! The only way I'm getting in People is to rape and murder the rest of you, and then it'd only be because you and Jon got killed."
Despite his resolution to be good and pissed off for a long time, David's behavior was having an effect on Richie's mood. He laughed and ruffled David's hair.
"Try it, fucker."
"It wouldn't be rape now, you just consented. Dammit, always fucking up my plans."
Richie smiled, then sighed and leaned against David, resting his head on his shoulder.
"I hate this."
"Aww." David wrapped his arm around Richie. "I know. It's awful."
Richie grinned. "Ha! I knew I could make you be serious for a minute."
"Oh, that's nice. Dredge up old pain I've had to work really hard to get over just for the Hell of it."
David pulled his arm away and pushed Richie away, crossing his arms. Richie just blinked at him for a few minutes, then reached out to rub his shoulder.
"Hey, Dave, I'm sorry, I didn't mean - " Richie was cut off with a yelp when David pounced, knocking him flat on his back and hovering over him.
"Gotcha."
Richie wanted to be mad, but he was really just relieved. He knew how miserable David had been after April left, how long it took him to get back to being his normal cheerful self, and he wouldn't have been able to live with himself if he'd ruined all that. Of course, if one comment could send David right back into that depression, it probably meant he hadn't really gotten better.
"You're an ass."
"You might want to watch what you say. You never know when I have super glue."
"I thought you gave up super gluing shit when Tico threatened to do unspeakable things with the drumsticks you stuck together."
"I gave up super gluing phallic things when Tico's around. That still leaves a lot."
"At what point in your life did you decide to revert to acting ten years old?" David shrugged, stupid grin still plastered on his face as he climbed off of Richie.
"Cheered you up, didn't it?"
"Good point."
"I know what else'll cheer you up."
"Oh?"
"Wanna play charades?"
"You are ten years old."
"I'll make it really fun, promise."
Richie sighed. "Okay, fine. Charades. You first."
"Cool!" David's grin grew even wider and he hopped off the couch, bounding out of the room. Confused, Richie followed him.
-----------
"Hey, have any of you seen my mmmph."
Richie darted out and clapped his hand over Tico's mouth, silencing him. Tico's eyes widened as he took in the the scene before him.
David was kneeling on the floor, leaning over Hugh who was sleeping on the couch. A pile of paints and brushes - Tico's paints and brushes - was on the floor next to him. David's brow was furrowed in concentration, the tip of his tongue peeking out from between his lips, as he applied a layer of blue paint to Hugh's forehead.
"You have to be quiet. If you wake Hugh up, he'll kill David and then you'll have hat on your conscience," Richie whispered in Tico's ear, before lowering his hand.
"Those are expensive fucking paints, Rich." Tico kept his voice low, watching David paint.
"We'll buy you new ones. This is for a good cause."
"What the Hell is he painting?" David was now coating the lower half of Hugh's face in green, carefully navigating the brush around his lips.
Richie shrugged. "We'll see when he's done."
"Why the Hell is he painting?"
"We were playing charades, and he just hopped up and got your paints and came in here, got right to work. I have no idea, I just followed him."
They watched as David painted on some red, then black, then white, then black again. Twenty minutes later, he closed the paints, dropped the brush, and stood up, walking over to stand with Richie and Tico, grinning widely.
Hugh's forehead was light blue, graced with a couple of fluffy white clouds. The lower half was grass green. One cheek featured what looked mildly like a barn, the other was covered with a couple of spindly-legged cows.
"Old McDonald Had a Farm!" Richie shouted, then clapped his hand over his mouth. Hugh didn't wake up, just shifted slightly. David grinned and nodded vigorously.
Tico just rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Five year olds. I work with goddamned five year olds."
"Hey, Teek, those paints wash off, right?"
"How the Hell should I know? I don't paint on people."
"You don't ever get paint on your hands?"
"Gloves."
"Oh. Um. We should maybe, uh, go somewhere else. Before he wakes up, I mean."
Richie nodded, and he and David bolted for the door. Tico shot his hands out and grabbed the backs of their shirts, pulling them back.
"Pick up my goddamned paints so I don't get blamed for this."
"Shhh!" Richie hissed, grabbing David and dragging him over to the couch. They gathered up the paints and brushes, dumping them in Tico's arms before darting out of the room.
-----------
David and Richie stopped when they were a safe distance from Hugh's room, leaning against opposite walls in the hallway.
"Your turn."
-----------
Jon was flipping through a magazine when he felt a pressure on his head and looked up. Richie ducked behind the chair, biting his fist to stifle his laughter.
"What the Hell?" Jon glanced around a couple more times, but when he didn't see anyone, he shrugged and went back to his magazine.
He jumped out of his chair when David popped his head in the door and shouted "John Deere!" He jumped about a foot off the floor when Richie jumped up from behind the chair.
"Yes!"
David grinned as Richie ran towards the door, and then they were gone. Jon just stood there, confused as all Hell.
"Jon, I think I should warn you, David and Rich are - oh, they've been here."
"How'd you know?"
"I just assumed that hat with the drumstick antlers sticking out of it wasn't a fashion decision."
Jon looked up, then yanked the hat off. "What the Hell are they doing?"
"Charades."
"That's not how you play - "
"I know. You got off easier than Hugh did, at least."
-----------
Richie collapsed on the couch, holding his sides while he struggled to stop laughing long enough to catch his breath. David stood in front of him, grinning so widely it looked like the top half of his head would fall off if he opened his mouth.
"Feel better?"
"Good work, Dr. Bryan."
Richie bolted upright on the couch when a voice echoed down the hall. "WHAT THE SWEET HOLY FUCK?"
David met Richie's eyes. "Wanna play hide and seek?"
"Hey, I'm a people and you like me." Richie scowled at David as he flopped down on the couch next to him.
"Not people. People. Stupid goddamned gossip rag, capital P."
"What'd they do? It do? They? It? Dammit. Why are you cranky?"
"It, I think. And Heather and I are back together."
"Really? Rich that's awe - " at the ever-darkening thunderstorm playing across Richie's face, David stopped. "Oh. That's why you hate People."
Richie sighed. "And if we'd been at that game and sat apart from each other and not spoke, we'd be in the middle of a vicious fight, a couple of selfish assholes who don't care about Ava. Why didn't you have to deal with this shit?"
"There are some advantages to being 'that poofy fag in the back', I guess. I'm not popular enough for people to care. Woo-hoo keyboards! The only way I'm getting in People is to rape and murder the rest of you, and then it'd only be because you and Jon got killed."
Despite his resolution to be good and pissed off for a long time, David's behavior was having an effect on Richie's mood. He laughed and ruffled David's hair.
"Try it, fucker."
"It wouldn't be rape now, you just consented. Dammit, always fucking up my plans."
Richie smiled, then sighed and leaned against David, resting his head on his shoulder.
"I hate this."
"Aww." David wrapped his arm around Richie. "I know. It's awful."
Richie grinned. "Ha! I knew I could make you be serious for a minute."
"Oh, that's nice. Dredge up old pain I've had to work really hard to get over just for the Hell of it."
David pulled his arm away and pushed Richie away, crossing his arms. Richie just blinked at him for a few minutes, then reached out to rub his shoulder.
"Hey, Dave, I'm sorry, I didn't mean - " Richie was cut off with a yelp when David pounced, knocking him flat on his back and hovering over him.
"Gotcha."
Richie wanted to be mad, but he was really just relieved. He knew how miserable David had been after April left, how long it took him to get back to being his normal cheerful self, and he wouldn't have been able to live with himself if he'd ruined all that. Of course, if one comment could send David right back into that depression, it probably meant he hadn't really gotten better.
"You're an ass."
"You might want to watch what you say. You never know when I have super glue."
"I thought you gave up super gluing shit when Tico threatened to do unspeakable things with the drumsticks you stuck together."
"I gave up super gluing phallic things when Tico's around. That still leaves a lot."
"At what point in your life did you decide to revert to acting ten years old?" David shrugged, stupid grin still plastered on his face as he climbed off of Richie.
"Cheered you up, didn't it?"
"Good point."
"I know what else'll cheer you up."
"Oh?"
"Wanna play charades?"
"You are ten years old."
"I'll make it really fun, promise."
Richie sighed. "Okay, fine. Charades. You first."
"Cool!" David's grin grew even wider and he hopped off the couch, bounding out of the room. Confused, Richie followed him.
-----------
"Hey, have any of you seen my mmmph."
Richie darted out and clapped his hand over Tico's mouth, silencing him. Tico's eyes widened as he took in the the scene before him.
David was kneeling on the floor, leaning over Hugh who was sleeping on the couch. A pile of paints and brushes - Tico's paints and brushes - was on the floor next to him. David's brow was furrowed in concentration, the tip of his tongue peeking out from between his lips, as he applied a layer of blue paint to Hugh's forehead.
"You have to be quiet. If you wake Hugh up, he'll kill David and then you'll have hat on your conscience," Richie whispered in Tico's ear, before lowering his hand.
"Those are expensive fucking paints, Rich." Tico kept his voice low, watching David paint.
"We'll buy you new ones. This is for a good cause."
"What the Hell is he painting?" David was now coating the lower half of Hugh's face in green, carefully navigating the brush around his lips.
Richie shrugged. "We'll see when he's done."
"Why the Hell is he painting?"
"We were playing charades, and he just hopped up and got your paints and came in here, got right to work. I have no idea, I just followed him."
They watched as David painted on some red, then black, then white, then black again. Twenty minutes later, he closed the paints, dropped the brush, and stood up, walking over to stand with Richie and Tico, grinning widely.
Hugh's forehead was light blue, graced with a couple of fluffy white clouds. The lower half was grass green. One cheek featured what looked mildly like a barn, the other was covered with a couple of spindly-legged cows.
"Old McDonald Had a Farm!" Richie shouted, then clapped his hand over his mouth. Hugh didn't wake up, just shifted slightly. David grinned and nodded vigorously.
Tico just rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Five year olds. I work with goddamned five year olds."
"Hey, Teek, those paints wash off, right?"
"How the Hell should I know? I don't paint on people."
"You don't ever get paint on your hands?"
"Gloves."
"Oh. Um. We should maybe, uh, go somewhere else. Before he wakes up, I mean."
Richie nodded, and he and David bolted for the door. Tico shot his hands out and grabbed the backs of their shirts, pulling them back.
"Pick up my goddamned paints so I don't get blamed for this."
"Shhh!" Richie hissed, grabbing David and dragging him over to the couch. They gathered up the paints and brushes, dumping them in Tico's arms before darting out of the room.
-----------
David and Richie stopped when they were a safe distance from Hugh's room, leaning against opposite walls in the hallway.
"Your turn."
-----------
Jon was flipping through a magazine when he felt a pressure on his head and looked up. Richie ducked behind the chair, biting his fist to stifle his laughter.
"What the Hell?" Jon glanced around a couple more times, but when he didn't see anyone, he shrugged and went back to his magazine.
He jumped out of his chair when David popped his head in the door and shouted "John Deere!" He jumped about a foot off the floor when Richie jumped up from behind the chair.
"Yes!"
David grinned as Richie ran towards the door, and then they were gone. Jon just stood there, confused as all Hell.
"Jon, I think I should warn you, David and Rich are - oh, they've been here."
"How'd you know?"
"I just assumed that hat with the drumstick antlers sticking out of it wasn't a fashion decision."
Jon looked up, then yanked the hat off. "What the Hell are they doing?"
"Charades."
"That's not how you play - "
"I know. You got off easier than Hugh did, at least."
-----------
Richie collapsed on the couch, holding his sides while he struggled to stop laughing long enough to catch his breath. David stood in front of him, grinning so widely it looked like the top half of his head would fall off if he opened his mouth.
"Feel better?"
"Good work, Dr. Bryan."
Richie bolted upright on the couch when a voice echoed down the hall. "WHAT THE SWEET HOLY FUCK?"
David met Richie's eyes. "Wanna play hide and seek?"