[Fic - Grocery Day chris/jc ]

[mickeym]

Because apparently, Halo + Kim = crack!fic:

kim: i like the visual of them getting groceries together. because--yeah. imagine them going into the grocery late at night, some 24 hour thing, hell, maybe superwalmart... and chris popping wheelies with the grocery cart while jc tries to decide between pears or oranges... or radichio or some other lettuce...
kim: and then arguing over if it's better to buy store brand, or name brand and use coupons.
halo: yes! and JC buys kumquats because they sound dirty.
halo: i always envision him doing that in my head.
kim: or Chris making obscene gestures with the carrots :-)
halo: and Chris tries on all the sunhats and sunglasses and puts on fake accents.

and lo and behold, a fic was born…

Grocery Day- [R] - JC/Chris- written with jchalo via aim




"C, just pick one already. They'll all the same. Silver, with wheels. All of them. Exactly. the. same." Chris nudges him impatiently as JC gazes at the carts, a thoughtful look on his face.

"No man, you have to get just the right one. Some of them have wonky wheels, and they throw off your whole shopping experience. Trust me." JC selects a cart and wheels it up and down a couple of times. "Ok, this one seems ok. Though--"

Chris grabs the cart from him. "It'll be fine. Just fine. Now come on. What do we need?" He heads off down an aisle, JC trailing behind.

"Kumquats." JC giggles. "We need those."

"C. We do not. You just like the name. You're twelve years old. And filthy." Chris looks at him and grins. "Which, uh....makes me even more perverted than I thought I was. Good to know."

JC points to the display of lettuces. "How about lettuce? Salad, yes. Salad's good. Healthy."

"And steak?" Chris asks hopefully. "That goes well with salad." JC shoots a look at him, and Chris sighs.

"Other things go well with salad, Chris. Chicken...pork--" JC puts some bananas into the cart, then adds a large plastic bag of something leafy and green. Chris sighs again and fiddles with the cart, doing his best imitation of a pop-up wheelie that he can manage, considering it's a grocery cart. JC rolls his eyes at him. "Get some bread, wouldja? Not the sliced stuff, get a loaf of french bread. That sounds good."

"I don't want chicken or pork." Chris feels it necessary to point this out, then heads across the produce department to the bakery. He gets the french bread, but also a loaf of Wonderbread, because it reminds him of when he was a kid, and for good measure, a couple of cherry turnovers. JC's turning the corner from produce into the meat aisle when he catches up. "Dude. They have fresh doughnuts."

"We don't need doughnuts. Dunkin' Donuts has better, if we want 'em."

"But--doughnuts!"

"No." JC's...meandering...along the meat display cases. "How about lamb?"

"Jesus fuck, C, we had lamb last week...and I'm about to sprout, myself, we've eaten so much vegetarian... can't we just have steaks once?"

"Did you not listen when I read you that article about how too much red meat isn't good for you? well fine, have your steak, but don't come whining to me when you drop dead of clogged arteries, man."

"Huh. I'll be dead, you moron. Dead and happy."

"I wouldn't put it past you to come back and haunt me. Now shutup and help me look for hummus spread."

"Oh, my god. Is that the stuff you tried to get me to put on those toasted pitas the other day?"

"See? You're getting it! Toasted pitas are way better for you than chips, man. And don't you feel good?"

"I'd feel better with steak, and real chips and salsa."

JC sighs and shakes his head.

"Beer. We need more beer, too. And Code Red!"

"Weren't you cutting back on soda?" JC raises an eyebrow.

"Weren't you my mother?" Chris scowls and scans the shelves. "Ohh! Blue pepsi. I keep meaning to try that. Hey...if I mix it with the Code Red, we can make purple drinks. Purple, man. It's the new black." He grabs five bottles and drops them into the cart, totally obliterating JC's carefully stacked tower of salad vegetables.

"You're gonna squash the bananas and the oranges, and bruise the mangos, and then I'm gonna have to squash you, man." JC reaches into the cart and hastily rearranges everything, moves the bottles to the other end, far away from the veggies and fruit. "Remind me not to be around when you mix your 'purple drinks'. That much sugar'll either have you hyped up and climbing the walls, or give you a heart attack." He looks around and lets out a soft squeal. "Raisins are on sale! Chris--we can have raisins in the salad!"

"I haven't eaten raisins since grade school and I hated them then too." Chris grabs JC's hips and steers him away from the stack of cartons. "Plus they look a lot like dead flies, or ferret crap. Trust me, I know this from experience. And can I just say ferret crap does not taste remotely like raisins? Fucking Bass..." He wanders off muttering under his breath.

Until he comes racing back, beaming and throws an armful of boxes of fruit snacks into the cart. JC looks at him and Chris smiles sheepishly. "I like it when I bite into you and you squirt in my mouth," he whispers, and waggles his tongue obscenely.

JC bites on his lip until the grin threatening fades into nothing but a soft smile, and he can open his mouth without laughing his ass off. "We could play that tonight, if you want," he whispers back, looking around before leaning in and pressing a quick, soft kiss to the side of Chris' neck. "'Cos I like it too--doing it, and when you do it."

Chris grins and swaggers a bit. "I knew you couldn't resist that," he says. "Ooh," he adds, a moment later. "Cocoa-flavored coffee creamer? Dude. We need to try this."

"It's gonna be like a cheap version of Starbucks," JC points out helpfully, but Chris dumps the box into the cart. JC shakes his head. "You know why I don't let you shop by yourself, right?"

Chris snorts. "Because you'd have to eat real meat like a real man?"

"Because we'd never eat anything but junk food, otherwise. The home version of Taco Bell."

"Dude. Taco Bell rocks."

"I swear you'll turn into a chalupa one of these days, Chris--" But Chris is off again, head down, ass-up as he rummages in the freezer. JC stands patiently waiting for him to emerge from the frozen depths. Which eventually he does, brandishing two tubs of Ben and Jerry's ice cream. He waves them in JC's face. "Karamel Sutra, right? For you. And for me--" He peers at the other tub--"From Russia With Buzz. Hey, maybe I should get another one of those for Lance." His head vanishes into the freezer again.

"I'll just be over there." JC waves a hand in the direction of the toiletries aisle. "I need some....hair stuff. Wax. Or is it mousse I need? I can't remember what I ran out of." He frowns. "I knew I should've made a list."

Chris' head emerges again, another carton in his hand, and he tosses the three of them into the cart, looking apologetic when one sideswipes the bananas. "Um, sorry."

JC shakes his head. "I suppose I can just make fruit salad." He frowns again. "Do you remember which I said it was I needed? Mousse or wax?"

Chris shrugs. "I thought you said cream. Shaving cream? Dude, no. That's me. I need shaving stuff."

JC eyes him. "Yes. Oh! Need some nail files, too. And clear coat polish."

"You have got to be kidding me." Chris raises one eyebrow and JC snorts at his expression. "Nail polish, C?"

He extends one leg, waggling his toes, showing clearly since he's wearing flipflops. They're very lightly pink. Chris sighs in a put-upon manner. "When the fuck did you get so girly?"

JC's turn to raise an eyebrow. "I don't remember you complaining about me being so 'girly' this morning--" He waits a heartbeat and grins when Chris flushes and mumbles something too low to be understood. He leans in closer. "Yeah. Kinda hard to call me girly when I'm buried in your ass, huh?"

"Lube!" Chris exclaims, and then snickers when it's JC's turn to flush as an elderly lady walking past stops to stare. She smiles, and then walks over to them, and touches JC lightly on the arm. "Make sure you use plenty," she says in a low voice, "And there's flavoured condoms on the next shelf down." She looks at Chris, then leans in close to JC. "He looks like a raspberry kinda guy." She winks and then walks off, leaving the two of them staring open-mouthed after her.

"Huh." Chris blinks, then blinks again. "I mean. Huh."

"Hmm." JC nods, and steers the cart down the aisle, Chris following behind. "I always thought you were more pineapple, myself. I mean, y'know. The whole hair thing and all." He stops by the hair products and picks up a can of mousse and puts it in the cart, followed by a tub of wax. "And we need shampoo, too. Seeing as you spilt the last lot we had."

Chris snorts. "You try keeping hold of a slippery bottle when you're getting your dick sucked and see how well you do. I was just trying to have a shower, dude. You violated my space. You're lucky I didn't slip and split my head open."

"I didn't hear you complaining too loudly while your space was being 'violated'." JC sniffs and turns his back towards Chris, then smiles when he feels a quick brush of hands across his ass. "Huh-uh, that ain't gonna work, Kirkpatrick. No apology groping this time."

"What, I've done it before?" Chris pinches his ass and JC's torn between snickering and growling.

"We should get some toothpaste too, while we're here."

"Because God knows, we might run out before we come here again in a day or three." But he reaches for the Colgate gel they both prefer, and JC smiles.

"Don't forget the condoms, really. I think we're running low." The flush that spreads across Chris' neck when he darts a glance toward the end of the aisle the elderly lady disappeared down is too cute. "Do we need anything else?"

"Depends. We could go check out ties -- the handcuffs just aren't working for me."

"Ties? Oooh, ok. As long as we can get ones that match the bedsheets."

Chris is only half-sure JC's kidding. He can never be too certain. JC's an interesting guy. Who's currently engrossed in a tabloid magazine. "Hey...hey, Chris. C'mere. You gotta see this." He holds out the magazine, tapping the page.

"What? Did Madonna get felt up by an alien? Is Britney dating Avril?" Chris bites his lip thoughtfully. "Man, if she was, just imagine Justin's face. That'd be priceless." He snickers.

"No, no. Look...it's AJ. He's so dreamy." JC smiles, and Chris snatches the magazine and whaps him with it, shoves it back on the rack and stalks off, pushing the cart. JC can't help but giggle. He catches up with Chris and slings an arm round his shoulders. "I was just kidding," he whispers, leaning in close to flick his tongue in Chris' ear. "You know you're the only one for me."

Chris scrubs at his ear. "You suck." He looks at JC, and wrinkles his nose. "I'm a badder boy than McLean can ever hope to be. I have a motorbike."

"Motor*cycle*," JC enunciates. He really thinks it's important to state this. "Motorbikes are like, not Harleys. I don't think."

"And what, exactly, do you know about 'em anyway, girly-boy?" Chris flicks his fingers up and down JC's side and grins when JC wiggles and snorts. He leans in closer. "I know how good you look spread out over the leather seat. We should do that again sometime, huh?

"I thought you looked better, bent over it." Two can easily play at this game, and it's not like he's new to Chris' version of seduction. Chris is a romantic, in a very unique, individual way. He leans in, ignores that the cashier is eyeing them oddly, and whispers, "y'know. Bent over it, legs spread...and maybe handcuffed to the muffler? So you can't move anything except your hips. Whatcha think, Chris?"

"I think he's paying for these," Chris says loudly, beaming at the cashier, and ignoring JC's yelp of protest. "Yes, you're definitely paying. In one way or another," he adds in a low voice only JC can hear.

"You're just asking for sugar in your gas tank," JC mutters, unloading the cart and scowling. "Watch your back, Kirkpatrick. I got your number."

Chris beams. "I got yours too. Sixty-nine." He winks at the cashier, who raises an eyebrow at him, and hurriedly scans the items.

"She thinks we're freaks," JC whispers, his back to her, barely smothering the giggle that's threatening to slip out. "I think we're traumatising her."

Chris grins. "We are freaks. I'm sure she's figured that out by the assortment of groceries we have here." He looks at the jumbo size tube of lube JC's placing on the counter, followed closely by a handful of brightly coloured ties, five bananas and a can of whipped cream. "Dude, even I think we're freaks."

JC pulls out his wallet. "I pay for these, you have to rub my feet."

"No way. You pay, and you get your way with me."

JC snorts. "That's gonna happen anyway. I wanna know what I get out of the deal, man."

"Why your feet, though, hmm?" Chris' whiny voice is only slightly higher than Justin's, JC realizes. He'll have to tell Chris that some time. Some time that isn't when he's trying to get a foot rub. "Can't I rub something that's going to be fun for both of us?"

JC shakes his head. "Again with the sure thing. I want something for me outta this."

Chris sighs and fakes a shocked look. Faked, because JC's seen the real thing before. "Sex isn't enough? Good lord, dude. What alien stole your body and replaced your brain? I'll have you know, this ass is highly coveted, and you're turning it down in favor of a foot rub? Geez, the things I do for you, Chasez."

It's all show, though, and JC knows this. Knows that one of Chris' favorite things to do at the end of the day is chill out on the couch with a beer, or a soda, and the TV remote handy -- and JC's feet in his lap. Sometimes he rubs purposefully, sometimes it's just idle caresses and teases, but it's relaxing and comforting for him. He's told JC so.

"Well," JC says quietly, as they're loading the bagged groceries into the cart, and he's waiting for the receipt to sign, "it's not like I'm turning down your fabulous assets. Not really. I'm just wanting...something else, too. So, it's really like, sex plus."

"Uhhuh." Chris shakes his head, watches JC pocket his copy of the receipt. "Sex plus a freak, is what I'm thinking."

"Keep talking like that and I'll keep you face-down, tied up 'til next Tuesday."

"Okay, and this is a threat how?"

"Because you'll have a raspberry condom over your head cutting off your air supply." JC grabs the cart and pushes it out in the parking lot. "Where'd we park again? I always forget."

Chris snickers. "You're hopeless, C. You'd get totally lost if I wasn't around to tell you where to go." He laughs as he realises what he's said. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, yeah. Ooh! I see it." JC spots the car and starts off, but then stops suddenly. "I know. Oh yes. I've got it."

"Got what?" Chris asks, narrowly avoiding colliding with the cart when JC swerves wildly around a puddle.

"What you can do for me." JC fumbles in his pocket for the keys. "It's perfect. And you'll love it."

"I will?"

"Yeah." JC grins. "You really will."

Chris starts to pile the bagged groceries into the car. "So tell me already."

"You," says JC, trailing a finger down Chris' chest, "can paint my toes for me." He smiles happily.

Chris snorts. "What? What's to love about that? I'm not seeing the part where I love it, man."

"Well," murmurs JC, threading his fingers into Chris' belt loops and pulling him close, "did I mention that I'd be cuffed naked to your cycle while you do it?"

~finis~

Comments

[i-amthecosmos.livejournal.com]

That was so cute! Eeee! Yay for Chris and JC! Yay for too-informative older ladies that volunteer at the AIDS outreach! Yay for grocery day!

[mickeym.livejournal.com]

Hee! Yeah, she's prolly used to dispensing important...information *g* Thanks, hon, I'm glad you liked it :)

[without-me.livejournal.com]

It's good crack!

"Plus they look a lot like dead flies, or ferret crap. Trust me, I know this from experience. And can I just say ferret crap does not taste remotely like raisins? Fucking Bass..."

Lines like this should come with a monitor warning, though. Dayum, ladies!

Keep it up! (Which, y'know, is good advice for those boys, too.)

[mickeym.livejournal.com]

We aim to please *g* Or something like that ;-)

I'm glad you liked it, hon :) Thanks for letting us know!

[northern]

Awww... Very cute!

I hope that cashier didn't know who they were. Heh.

[mickeym.livejournal.com]

Wouldn't that be a lovely conversation to get to listen in on? *g* Makes me wanna go apply for a job at Walmart, or wherever, just in the hopes... *g* :)

Thanks, hon :) glad you liked the story :)

[gblvr.livejournal.com]

Hee-hee. The little old lady was a great touch. Thanks for the chuckle - I needed that.