Pairing: Joey and AJ
Words: cricket; hypochondriac; rim shot; bounce
Once upon a time, he used to be sane. He was fairly sure of it. Back before fame. Back before he'd gotten used to Chris leaping on him at random intervals, and eighteen hour days of practicing dance moves, back sometime before Florida, in New York, there must have been a time when he was normal and ordinary. Then Joey remembered his father's barbershop quartet and that he'd always been a drama geek, which wasn't exactly a normal thing for a guy to be, and well, really, maybe he'd always been crazy.
But not crazy like AJ.
"It's simply not cricket, Moneypenny," AJ said, waving the golf club. "A man should be allowed to golf in peace. Not be assaulted by a mohawked maniac in a golf cart. Something Must Be Done!"
"Uh huh." Joey settled for a nod and a slow step backward toward the kitchen. He had a feeling. A presentiment. Whatever AJ was talking about was something he didn't want to be involved in. It would be bad.
"I have a plan," AJ announced.
"That's good." Two more steps and he'd be in the kitchen, and then he could turn and flee.
AJ paused in his pacing and skewered Joey with a look. "And you, my dear Moneypenny, are going to help me."
Damn. Caught. Joey stopped and smiled, large and dumb, trying to throw the predator off the scent. "What can I do?"
"Why, hunt down the enemy in his lair, of course. Gather intelligence."
"What enemy?" Joey asked, already knowing he didn't want to hear the answer.
"The Last Mohican. Chris Kirkpatrick."
Rim shot. Joey groaned inwardly. The things he did for sex. Great sex, albeit, but sometimes he really hated being led around by his dick. "What did Chris do this time?"
"He's an abomination upon the face of golf."
"Uh huh." Which said nothing and everything, really. There was a reason Joey wasn't into sports. He gauged the distance to the kitchen again.
"This is your mission, should you choose to accept it. Go forth into the land of the unbeliever and find out where he sleeps, what he eats. What he values, so that he may be driven forth from the golf course forever."
"I already know where Chris sleeps and what he likes to eat," Joey said, as patiently as he could. It was important to be patient when dealing with insane people. He should know.
"Did I mention that there will be no sex forthcoming until you successfully complete your task?"
On the other hand, pretending to comply did get him away from the golf club waving AJ. "I'll just get my keys then."
****
He went to see Chris, not because he thought it would help anything but because, well. No sex was bad enough, but sex with AJ was downright addicting, and Joey didn't really want to give it up over something as trivial as this. It was better to wait for something important, like what would probably happen when Lance got back from Russia and found out what was going on. Lance had a completely irrational hatred of the Backstreet Boys. Despite their close friendship, Joey had never been able to get Lance to tell him why. Joey's current theory was that Lance had made a pass at Kevin and Kevin had turned him down.
Better not to bother Lance with something that was just going to upset him, especially given the average shelf-life of one of Joey's romances. This one looked to be even shorter than that, what with AJ's insanity and the whole Chris thing.
He knocked again. "Chris, open the door. You know I'm here, the guy at the gate called you. You can't still be upset about your couch. I told you, Brianna didn't mean to puke on it..."
The door opened. Chris looked out, bleary-eyed despite it being nearly evening. "Go away. Tired."
Joey studied him. Okay, so the new haircut still looked a little odd. A lot odd. But his eyes were red. Chris looked like he'd picked himself up off the floor to come answer the door, and that maybe the floor hadn't been particularly clean or tidy before he'd done so. "Are you sick?"
"No. 'M fine. Go away."
Joey pushed past him, then turned, pulled Chris away from the door and shut it. "C'mon, man, let's get you to bed."
"Don' wanna go to bed. Feel fine."
"You said you were tired just a minute ago."
"Couch tired. Not bed tired. Go. Now." Chris pushed ineffectually at him.
"You're going to bed now, or I'm going to pick you up and put you there."
Chris snorted, but turned and made his way toward the stairs. "Evil Joey," he grumbled.
"Yes, I'm evil and a horrible friend for wanting to take care of you."
"That's right," Chris mumbled. "An' don' you forget it."
Unlike the living room, the bedroom was neat and well-ordered, as though no one had used it in days. Joey suspected that no one had. Chris had probably been sleeping on the couch.
"Take your pants off and get in bed."
"Not that kind of boy," Chris said, but did as directed, and slid into the bed. He grabbed a pillow, hugged it to him, then curled around it and closed his eyes. "Always knew you wanted to take advantage of me."
Joey sat on the edge of the bed and felt Chris' forehead. It was warm, but not especially hot. Maybe that meant something, maybe it didn't. What did he know? All he was sure of was that Chris was no hypochrondriac. Quite the opposite. Chris avoided doctors and hospitals with religious fervor, as though simply seeing one could make him sick. He suspected Lance bribed Chris to get him to do their required annual physicals, but didn't really want to know.
"Go to sleep, Chris."
"Not tired," Chris said with a whine that would have made Brianna proud, and promptly fell asleep.
Joey waited, sitting there watching him until Chris was snoring soundly before sneaking out and going downstairs.
He used his cell phone to call AJ. "I'm afraid your evil plans are going to have to wait. Chris is sick."
"What better time to carry out an evil plan than when the enemy is defenseless?"
"Seriously, AJ. He's not feeling well. I just put him to bed. You can do whatever you were going to do when he's feeling better. He'll appreciate it more then." The really strange part was that Joey meant that. He might be the one AJ was fucking, but on the whole, he kinda thought AJ was more interested in Chris and vice versa. AJ and Joey had sex in common, but AJ and Chris shared a sense of humor and a way of looking at things that mostly just left Joey baffled.
"Hmm. The enemy has been infected with a rare and venomous poison, rendering him incapable of infesting the golf course with his presence. Brilliant work, Moneypenny."
It must be a sign of his own impending insanity that Joey doesn't even bother to argue. "Right. The golf course is safe from Chris for the immediate future. I'm going to stay here for a while, make sure he bounces back from this his usual self."
"He's that sick? Is he going to be all right?"
Normal AJ voice with real concern in it, and Joey is glad to hear it. "I think he'll be fine. I just want to make sure he stays in bed. Chris has a habit of denying that he's sick and making himself worse that way."
Reassured of Chris' well-being, AJ slipped back into the Bond persona. "Very well then. Carry on, and report back when the enemy has been thoroughly vanquished."
Joey sighed, and reminded himself again why he was in this relationship. Great sex. He was doing this for great sex. Right. Maybe he should be looking for something else in a relationship besides great sex. "Will do."
AJ growled in his ear. "And I'll do you when you get back. The rewards of a successful mission, m'dear."
Or maybe not. It was really great sex, after all.
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