heh.
I finished the badfic. I'm not inflicting it, though. 'cause, you know. I'm nice.
what are you looking at? It's BAD! It's all schmoopy and really, really silly and sweet. I wrote it just for me, 'cause I'm a fluffy little bunny.
and JC's a butterfly
Bliss
The house was dark and quiet when Chris let himself in, dropping his duffel bag just inside the door. He was so tired that blinking was starting to become a chore, and head-splitting yawns had been wracking his body for the last half-hour. He vaguely remembered signing an autograph for the cab driver's daughter, but, for some reason, was almost sure he'd signed Lance's name.
Oh, well.
He shed shoes and jacket on his way to the bedroom, dumping them haphazardly on the floor as he went. Lights weren't necessary, so he didn't bother with them, although he did stop to pet a dog in the hallway on his way by. A quick stop in the bathroom to piss, and he nearly threw himself across the room in his haste to get into bed.
Chris crawled over top of AJ to get to his side of the bed, rubbing his groin lazily against AJ's hip by way of greeting. It wasn't serious, though, and AJ just sleepily half-snorted, half-grunted at him, reaching back to pat his face.
"Thought you were stuck in Seattle," AJ said, rolling over and smushing the right side of his face into the pillow. He didn't open his eyes.
"I was," Chris said. "For six hours. Fucking fog." He yawned again, and twisted a leg in between AJ's thighs. "I did kick a ten-year-old's ass at Tony Hawk in the VIP lounge, though."
"Nice. Did you make him cry, too?"
"Nah. Not in front of me, anyway." Chris nuzzled AJ's neck, hands wandering somewhat lower. "You feel good."
"Go to sleep."
"What? I'm not tired," Chris grinned, lazily. Truthfully, he was so exhausted he could barely lift his arms, but he managed to slide a hand up the back of AJ's wifebeater nevertheless.
"Don't start something you can't finish," AJ warned him. "I told you the last time what would happen if you ever fell asleep on me during sex again."
Chris frowned. Suddenly remembering the precise and rather explicit wording of the threat to his person - specifically concerning any future reproductive capabilities - he opened his eyes. "You wouldn't."
"Try me."
Chris removed his hand. AJ chuckled. They went to sleep.
AJ woke up six hours later to an empty bed. Disoriented, he thought for a moment that he'd only dreamed about Chris's arrival in the middle of the night. After all, it wouldn't be the first time that they'd planned a weekend in and had to cancel at the last minute; thus were the joys of sleeping with an internationally famous pop star.
A noise from the kitchen told him that he hadn't been dreaming this time, though. Things were banging around in such a fashion that it seemed as though Chris had decided to surprise him with one of his infamous weekend breakfasts. AJ thought Chris _might_ have been the last person he'd have suspected of having a secret Martha Stewart streak - Lance being a much more likely candidate for domestic goddess status - but it had proven true the very first time Chris stayed over on a weekend and made his infamous "Eggs Kirkpatrick." Half the time, his culinary inventions turned out great and surprisingly edible, and half the time they required some sort of emergency medical attention afterwards. AJ tried to remember which one it had been the last time, but it was a while ago. Still, it didn't really matter; he'd learned a long time ago to stock up on Pepto.
He'd also learned to roll over and pretend to be asleep, so Chris could tiptoe in and 'surprise' him with breakfast in bed. For some reason, little things like that were important to Chris - and Chris was important to AJ - so AJ humoured him.
He didn't actually have to pretend to be asleep this morning, though; it seemed like he only closed his eyes for a second, and the next thing he knew, Chris was poking him in the side. "AJ? You awake?"
AJ blinked at him. "Mmh?"
"Breakfast!" Chris said, presenting a loaded-down tray with a flourish.
Outwardly, everything looked fine. Orange juice, coffee, the morning paper - even a little silk flower in a vase. Martha would have been damn proud. Warily, AJ lifted the cover on his dish. He looked at the plate, and then up at Chris.
"Okay, I know what you're thinking," Chris said, hurriedly. "But anyone could have mistaken cornstarch for baking soda. They're very similar in texture. But I had a recipe, and I'm sure I did it right this time."
"And you were wearing your glasses?"
Chris made a face. "It's not like I need them to see. They're mostly for show."
"Because they make you look smarter?"
"Nah," Chris grinned. "They just make everyone else in the group look dumber."
"Uh-huh," AJ nodded, poking at the pancakes with his fork. They _looked_ better than the last time, anyway - they were a lot fluffier and much less dense. Still, it hadn't been the appearance so much as the taste that had been the problem with Chris's last attempt at making them. He peered at them, seeing a strange fleck of colour.
"I was going to make chocolate chip pancakes, like my mom used to," Chris said, sitting cross-legged on the bed. "But you didn't have any chocolate chips."
"So you used - "
"M&Ms," Chris said.
AJ looked at him.
"What? They're little and round, and they have chocolate in them."
"Uh-huh," AJ agreed. "And, you on a sugar rush, that's definitely something I need to experience first thing in the morning."
"Maple syrup?" Chris grinned, holding up the little pitcher. "Powdered sugar? Whipped cream?"
"Whipped cream?"
Chris produced a can of fluffy whiteness from a pocket of his bathrobe. "I always come prepared."
AJ cut a little bit of pancake with his fork, and raised it to his lips. The first bite was always the hardest, but once that was over - He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, chewed, and swallowed.
"Well?"
"It's very - edible," AJ said, trying not to sound as surprised as he felt.
Chris was somewhat less than impressed with AJ's faint praise. He took the fork out of AJ's hands and cut himself a large portion. "Hey. This is good!"
"Yeah," AJ agreed.
"Damn good." Now that he was sure he hadn't accidentally poisoned them, Chris was well on his way from proud to smug.
"You've completely redeemed yourself for those Eggs a l'orange," AJ said, taking another bite, and then feeding one to Chris.
"It sounded like it would be good," Chris said, defensively around a mouthful of pancake. "At the time."
"'The time' being _before_ we were actually eating them."
"Right," Chris grinned. "Afterwards, things might have gone a little downhill." He poured a massive amount of maple syrup over the pancakes, licking sticky golden syrup off of his fingers. "You know, I think the next time I might try making cinnamon buns."
"Go for it," AJ shrugged. "I had the batteries in the fire alarm replaced, and the extinguisher is all charged."
"Ha ha ha. You know, cracks like that make me wonder why I even bother to make you breakfast in the first place."
"That's easy," AJ said, nuzzling his neck. "You do it because you love me."
Despite himself, Chris's pout turned into a little bit of a grin. "Maybe."
"And because nobody else you know will voluntarily eat your cooking."
Chris frowned, pout returning.
AJ took one of Chris's fingers and ran it through the puddle of syrup on the plate, then raised it to his lips. "But mostly it's because you're just a little domestic goddess at heart."
"Domestic _god_," Chris corrected him, biting his lip as AJ sucked on his finger to clean it. "And enough with the 'little' cracks, too, there, tiny."
"Oh, right," AJ said, letting Chris's finger pop out of his mouth. "I keep forgetting how massive you are underneath your candy-coated shell." He bit into Chris's earlobe, swirling his tongue around it.
"Um," Chris said, eyes rolling back into his head as AJ's tongue mapped the whorls of his ear. "Should I take it to mean that you're not hungry anymore?"
"For breakfast? I'm full, thanks. For dessert, I'm thinking some whipped cream ala Kirkpatrick might be good." AJ plucked the can out of Chris's bathrobe pocket and shook it up.
"Not to mention nutritious," Chris agreed.
AJ undid the belt on Chris's robe and peeled the terrycloth away from him, laughing as he caught sight of Chris's boxer shorts. "What the hell - ?"
"I thought you'd like them," Chris chuckled.
"Please tell me you had them specially made, and didn't order them off the Internet."
"What?" Chris asked, looking down at his "Property of AJ McLean" boxers, which featured those very words stitched on the waistband, and a large picture of AJ's face strategically placed right over his crotch. "It doesn't thrill you to think that millions of men could be covering their asses with your face right this very moment?"
"'Join a band,' they said," AJ sighed. "'See the world.' Nowhere in that recruitment speech was there anything about my face becoming a part of someone's kinky underwear fetish."
Chris grinned at him. "I'm just kidding, you know. I didn't get them off ebay; JC had them made for my birthday."
"That's almost scarier."
"I thought it was sweet. Besides, he's plainly jealous," Chris shrugged. "He only wishes he had a boyfriend as pretty as mine."
AJ narrowed his eyes. "Maybe I should give him a call, then," he said.
Chris was indignant. "You'd throw me over for that - that skinny, fluffy-haired, chin-striped little - "
"Now, now," AJ said, kissing him. "He is your friend and bandmate, after all."
"I'm not all that attached to him," Chris said. "And if I kill him, I could have more leads on our next album."
"And if you go to jail you could have a lot of new boyfriends," AJ pointed out. "With your hips, you'd be the most popular guy on the cellblock."
"If anyone has child-bearing hips, it's Lance," Chris retorted. He made a show of resisting AJ's attempts to placate him, but it was pretty impossible, since he was on his back and AJ was rubbing against him, still holding the can of whipped cream. He giggled when AJ sprayed the cold cream over his chest, making a happy face with his nipples as eyes and a mouth that swept across his stomach. "Oh, damn, _cold_," he said.
AJ was soon licking the whipped cream off of him, though, and that tongue made him shiver, and _not_ because he was cold. "Better?" he asked.
"A little."
"And I thought you were touchy about that word," AJ said. He nuzzled the front of Chris's now-tenting boxers. "This is like kissing myself, you know."
Chris chuckled. "And here I thought Justin was the only narcissist I knew."
In retaliation for that crack, AJ rolled him over, pulled down the offending boxers, and smacked him on the bare ass.
"Ow!"
AJ kissed it better. "That'll teach you to be a smartass."
"Yeah, by giving me a smart_ing_ ass," Chris said, wriggling and trying really hard not to laugh.
AJ draped himself over Chris's back and teasingly thrust against him. "You know, you've been here for almost eight hours and we haven't had sex yet?"
"I remember the good old days, six months ago, when you'd jump on me as soon as I walked through the door," Chris sighed. "I suppose I'll have to start jumping out of cakes and wrapping myself in Saran Wrap just to get your attention."
"Yeah. A little lapdance every once in a while wouldn't hurt, either." AJ had dug his hand underneath Chris's body and was playing with his cock, still rhythmically rubbing himself against Chris's ass.
"I could give you a lapdance right now."
"Really?"
"I aim to please."
AJ rolled over on his back, folding his hands underneath his head, and Chris straddled him. "Oh, yeah, this is much better."
"Told you," Chris said. He reached over and picked up the can of whipped cream, and carefully painted a large arrow on AJ's stomach, pointing down at his groin.
"Afraid you'll forget where it is?" AJ asked, amused.
"'This End Up,'" Chris explained. He licked his way down the arrow, ending at the waistband of AJ's underwear. "Hm," he said, looking at him critically. "You seem to have some sort of swelling." He rubbed his cheek over the bulge of AJ's cock. "Seems a little warm, too. Maybe you have a fever."
"Maybe you should examine me more closely," AJ suggested, trying not to thrust up too forcefully.
"I think you're right," Chris agreed. "Maybe you've pulled something." He peeled away AJ's underwear and tugged them down his legs, tossing them on the floor. "How does that feel?"
"Much better, doctor."
"_All_ better?" Chris asked, teasing him with a finger gently stroking the head of his cock.
"Not quite, no," AJ shivered.
"A closer examination seems to be in order, then." Chris picked up the whipped cream again, and AJ braced himself, fully prepared for Chris to coat his heated cock with the cold cream. Instead, Chris opened his mouth and tipped the can up, squirting it inside. _Then_, he ducked his head down and took AJ's cock into his mouth.
"Oh, fuck," AJ gasped, thrusting up into a combination of the cavernous warmth of Chris's mouth and the cool, slippery, rapidly melting whipped cream. That mix of sensations, combined with the rough velvet of Chris's tongue licking up and down the length of him, quickly brought AJ to orgasm.
Chris's lips were rimmed with white - cream, and come, and saliva - when he pulled his mouth away, tongue licking himself clean. "The swelling's gone down," he said, sounding a little disappointed.
"I'm pretty sure it'll be back," AJ said, panting and shivering on the bed. "Give me a minute."
"Okay," Chris agreed. "This stuff is pretty good," he said, tipping the whipped cream up and squirting some into his mouth, again.
"Don't use it all up," AJ warned. "I think we're out of lube."
"Oh," Chris said, looking from the can of cream down to AJ's body. "I love the way your mind works, you know that?"
"I always suspected you loved me for my mind," AJ said, smugly.
"Yeah, 'cause, you know, your body does _nothing_ for me," Chris agreed, tracing the tattoo on AJ's navel. "All the muscles, and the, um, naked skin, and stuff. Yuck." He leaned over and kissed AJ's stomach. "You up for testing the whipped-cream-as-lube theory?"
"Only if you don't find my body too repulsive."
"I'll manage," Chris promised. "I'll just close my eyes and pretend you're beautiful." He grinned wickedly as he picked up the whipped cream, shaking it for good measure.
And, despite his promise, Chris didn't close his eyes once.
what are you looking at? It's BAD! It's all schmoopy and really, really silly and sweet. I wrote it just for me, 'cause I'm a fluffy little bunny.
and JC's a butterfly
Bliss
The house was dark and quiet when Chris let himself in, dropping his duffel bag just inside the door. He was so tired that blinking was starting to become a chore, and head-splitting yawns had been wracking his body for the last half-hour. He vaguely remembered signing an autograph for the cab driver's daughter, but, for some reason, was almost sure he'd signed Lance's name.
Oh, well.
He shed shoes and jacket on his way to the bedroom, dumping them haphazardly on the floor as he went. Lights weren't necessary, so he didn't bother with them, although he did stop to pet a dog in the hallway on his way by. A quick stop in the bathroom to piss, and he nearly threw himself across the room in his haste to get into bed.
Chris crawled over top of AJ to get to his side of the bed, rubbing his groin lazily against AJ's hip by way of greeting. It wasn't serious, though, and AJ just sleepily half-snorted, half-grunted at him, reaching back to pat his face.
"Thought you were stuck in Seattle," AJ said, rolling over and smushing the right side of his face into the pillow. He didn't open his eyes.
"I was," Chris said. "For six hours. Fucking fog." He yawned again, and twisted a leg in between AJ's thighs. "I did kick a ten-year-old's ass at Tony Hawk in the VIP lounge, though."
"Nice. Did you make him cry, too?"
"Nah. Not in front of me, anyway." Chris nuzzled AJ's neck, hands wandering somewhat lower. "You feel good."
"Go to sleep."
"What? I'm not tired," Chris grinned, lazily. Truthfully, he was so exhausted he could barely lift his arms, but he managed to slide a hand up the back of AJ's wifebeater nevertheless.
"Don't start something you can't finish," AJ warned him. "I told you the last time what would happen if you ever fell asleep on me during sex again."
Chris frowned. Suddenly remembering the precise and rather explicit wording of the threat to his person - specifically concerning any future reproductive capabilities - he opened his eyes. "You wouldn't."
"Try me."
Chris removed his hand. AJ chuckled. They went to sleep.
AJ woke up six hours later to an empty bed. Disoriented, he thought for a moment that he'd only dreamed about Chris's arrival in the middle of the night. After all, it wouldn't be the first time that they'd planned a weekend in and had to cancel at the last minute; thus were the joys of sleeping with an internationally famous pop star.
A noise from the kitchen told him that he hadn't been dreaming this time, though. Things were banging around in such a fashion that it seemed as though Chris had decided to surprise him with one of his infamous weekend breakfasts. AJ thought Chris _might_ have been the last person he'd have suspected of having a secret Martha Stewart streak - Lance being a much more likely candidate for domestic goddess status - but it had proven true the very first time Chris stayed over on a weekend and made his infamous "Eggs Kirkpatrick." Half the time, his culinary inventions turned out great and surprisingly edible, and half the time they required some sort of emergency medical attention afterwards. AJ tried to remember which one it had been the last time, but it was a while ago. Still, it didn't really matter; he'd learned a long time ago to stock up on Pepto.
He'd also learned to roll over and pretend to be asleep, so Chris could tiptoe in and 'surprise' him with breakfast in bed. For some reason, little things like that were important to Chris - and Chris was important to AJ - so AJ humoured him.
He didn't actually have to pretend to be asleep this morning, though; it seemed like he only closed his eyes for a second, and the next thing he knew, Chris was poking him in the side. "AJ? You awake?"
AJ blinked at him. "Mmh?"
"Breakfast!" Chris said, presenting a loaded-down tray with a flourish.
Outwardly, everything looked fine. Orange juice, coffee, the morning paper - even a little silk flower in a vase. Martha would have been damn proud. Warily, AJ lifted the cover on his dish. He looked at the plate, and then up at Chris.
"Okay, I know what you're thinking," Chris said, hurriedly. "But anyone could have mistaken cornstarch for baking soda. They're very similar in texture. But I had a recipe, and I'm sure I did it right this time."
"And you were wearing your glasses?"
Chris made a face. "It's not like I need them to see. They're mostly for show."
"Because they make you look smarter?"
"Nah," Chris grinned. "They just make everyone else in the group look dumber."
"Uh-huh," AJ nodded, poking at the pancakes with his fork. They _looked_ better than the last time, anyway - they were a lot fluffier and much less dense. Still, it hadn't been the appearance so much as the taste that had been the problem with Chris's last attempt at making them. He peered at them, seeing a strange fleck of colour.
"I was going to make chocolate chip pancakes, like my mom used to," Chris said, sitting cross-legged on the bed. "But you didn't have any chocolate chips."
"So you used - "
"M&Ms," Chris said.
AJ looked at him.
"What? They're little and round, and they have chocolate in them."
"Uh-huh," AJ agreed. "And, you on a sugar rush, that's definitely something I need to experience first thing in the morning."
"Maple syrup?" Chris grinned, holding up the little pitcher. "Powdered sugar? Whipped cream?"
"Whipped cream?"
Chris produced a can of fluffy whiteness from a pocket of his bathrobe. "I always come prepared."
AJ cut a little bit of pancake with his fork, and raised it to his lips. The first bite was always the hardest, but once that was over - He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, chewed, and swallowed.
"Well?"
"It's very - edible," AJ said, trying not to sound as surprised as he felt.
Chris was somewhat less than impressed with AJ's faint praise. He took the fork out of AJ's hands and cut himself a large portion. "Hey. This is good!"
"Yeah," AJ agreed.
"Damn good." Now that he was sure he hadn't accidentally poisoned them, Chris was well on his way from proud to smug.
"You've completely redeemed yourself for those Eggs a l'orange," AJ said, taking another bite, and then feeding one to Chris.
"It sounded like it would be good," Chris said, defensively around a mouthful of pancake. "At the time."
"'The time' being _before_ we were actually eating them."
"Right," Chris grinned. "Afterwards, things might have gone a little downhill." He poured a massive amount of maple syrup over the pancakes, licking sticky golden syrup off of his fingers. "You know, I think the next time I might try making cinnamon buns."
"Go for it," AJ shrugged. "I had the batteries in the fire alarm replaced, and the extinguisher is all charged."
"Ha ha ha. You know, cracks like that make me wonder why I even bother to make you breakfast in the first place."
"That's easy," AJ said, nuzzling his neck. "You do it because you love me."
Despite himself, Chris's pout turned into a little bit of a grin. "Maybe."
"And because nobody else you know will voluntarily eat your cooking."
Chris frowned, pout returning.
AJ took one of Chris's fingers and ran it through the puddle of syrup on the plate, then raised it to his lips. "But mostly it's because you're just a little domestic goddess at heart."
"Domestic _god_," Chris corrected him, biting his lip as AJ sucked on his finger to clean it. "And enough with the 'little' cracks, too, there, tiny."
"Oh, right," AJ said, letting Chris's finger pop out of his mouth. "I keep forgetting how massive you are underneath your candy-coated shell." He bit into Chris's earlobe, swirling his tongue around it.
"Um," Chris said, eyes rolling back into his head as AJ's tongue mapped the whorls of his ear. "Should I take it to mean that you're not hungry anymore?"
"For breakfast? I'm full, thanks. For dessert, I'm thinking some whipped cream ala Kirkpatrick might be good." AJ plucked the can out of Chris's bathrobe pocket and shook it up.
"Not to mention nutritious," Chris agreed.
AJ undid the belt on Chris's robe and peeled the terrycloth away from him, laughing as he caught sight of Chris's boxer shorts. "What the hell - ?"
"I thought you'd like them," Chris chuckled.
"Please tell me you had them specially made, and didn't order them off the Internet."
"What?" Chris asked, looking down at his "Property of AJ McLean" boxers, which featured those very words stitched on the waistband, and a large picture of AJ's face strategically placed right over his crotch. "It doesn't thrill you to think that millions of men could be covering their asses with your face right this very moment?"
"'Join a band,' they said," AJ sighed. "'See the world.' Nowhere in that recruitment speech was there anything about my face becoming a part of someone's kinky underwear fetish."
Chris grinned at him. "I'm just kidding, you know. I didn't get them off ebay; JC had them made for my birthday."
"That's almost scarier."
"I thought it was sweet. Besides, he's plainly jealous," Chris shrugged. "He only wishes he had a boyfriend as pretty as mine."
AJ narrowed his eyes. "Maybe I should give him a call, then," he said.
Chris was indignant. "You'd throw me over for that - that skinny, fluffy-haired, chin-striped little - "
"Now, now," AJ said, kissing him. "He is your friend and bandmate, after all."
"I'm not all that attached to him," Chris said. "And if I kill him, I could have more leads on our next album."
"And if you go to jail you could have a lot of new boyfriends," AJ pointed out. "With your hips, you'd be the most popular guy on the cellblock."
"If anyone has child-bearing hips, it's Lance," Chris retorted. He made a show of resisting AJ's attempts to placate him, but it was pretty impossible, since he was on his back and AJ was rubbing against him, still holding the can of whipped cream. He giggled when AJ sprayed the cold cream over his chest, making a happy face with his nipples as eyes and a mouth that swept across his stomach. "Oh, damn, _cold_," he said.
AJ was soon licking the whipped cream off of him, though, and that tongue made him shiver, and _not_ because he was cold. "Better?" he asked.
"A little."
"And I thought you were touchy about that word," AJ said. He nuzzled the front of Chris's now-tenting boxers. "This is like kissing myself, you know."
Chris chuckled. "And here I thought Justin was the only narcissist I knew."
In retaliation for that crack, AJ rolled him over, pulled down the offending boxers, and smacked him on the bare ass.
"Ow!"
AJ kissed it better. "That'll teach you to be a smartass."
"Yeah, by giving me a smart_ing_ ass," Chris said, wriggling and trying really hard not to laugh.
AJ draped himself over Chris's back and teasingly thrust against him. "You know, you've been here for almost eight hours and we haven't had sex yet?"
"I remember the good old days, six months ago, when you'd jump on me as soon as I walked through the door," Chris sighed. "I suppose I'll have to start jumping out of cakes and wrapping myself in Saran Wrap just to get your attention."
"Yeah. A little lapdance every once in a while wouldn't hurt, either." AJ had dug his hand underneath Chris's body and was playing with his cock, still rhythmically rubbing himself against Chris's ass.
"I could give you a lapdance right now."
"Really?"
"I aim to please."
AJ rolled over on his back, folding his hands underneath his head, and Chris straddled him. "Oh, yeah, this is much better."
"Told you," Chris said. He reached over and picked up the can of whipped cream, and carefully painted a large arrow on AJ's stomach, pointing down at his groin.
"Afraid you'll forget where it is?" AJ asked, amused.
"'This End Up,'" Chris explained. He licked his way down the arrow, ending at the waistband of AJ's underwear. "Hm," he said, looking at him critically. "You seem to have some sort of swelling." He rubbed his cheek over the bulge of AJ's cock. "Seems a little warm, too. Maybe you have a fever."
"Maybe you should examine me more closely," AJ suggested, trying not to thrust up too forcefully.
"I think you're right," Chris agreed. "Maybe you've pulled something." He peeled away AJ's underwear and tugged them down his legs, tossing them on the floor. "How does that feel?"
"Much better, doctor."
"_All_ better?" Chris asked, teasing him with a finger gently stroking the head of his cock.
"Not quite, no," AJ shivered.
"A closer examination seems to be in order, then." Chris picked up the whipped cream again, and AJ braced himself, fully prepared for Chris to coat his heated cock with the cold cream. Instead, Chris opened his mouth and tipped the can up, squirting it inside. _Then_, he ducked his head down and took AJ's cock into his mouth.
"Oh, fuck," AJ gasped, thrusting up into a combination of the cavernous warmth of Chris's mouth and the cool, slippery, rapidly melting whipped cream. That mix of sensations, combined with the rough velvet of Chris's tongue licking up and down the length of him, quickly brought AJ to orgasm.
Chris's lips were rimmed with white - cream, and come, and saliva - when he pulled his mouth away, tongue licking himself clean. "The swelling's gone down," he said, sounding a little disappointed.
"I'm pretty sure it'll be back," AJ said, panting and shivering on the bed. "Give me a minute."
"Okay," Chris agreed. "This stuff is pretty good," he said, tipping the whipped cream up and squirting some into his mouth, again.
"Don't use it all up," AJ warned. "I think we're out of lube."
"Oh," Chris said, looking from the can of cream down to AJ's body. "I love the way your mind works, you know that?"
"I always suspected you loved me for my mind," AJ said, smugly.
"Yeah, 'cause, you know, your body does _nothing_ for me," Chris agreed, tracing the tattoo on AJ's navel. "All the muscles, and the, um, naked skin, and stuff. Yuck." He leaned over and kissed AJ's stomach. "You up for testing the whipped-cream-as-lube theory?"
"Only if you don't find my body too repulsive."
"I'll manage," Chris promised. "I'll just close my eyes and pretend you're beautiful." He grinned wickedly as he picked up the whipped cream, shaking it for good measure.
And, despite his promise, Chris didn't close his eyes once.