Cough Syrup Blues
Jan. 30th, 2014 03:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
asphaltcowgrrlTitle: Cough Syrup Blues
Fandom: Common Law
Pairing: Travis Marks+Wes Mitchell
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,133
Warnings: Stupidity ahoy!
Short Summary: Wes lets a secret slip while high on cough syrup. Travis may or may not survive the night.
Author’s Notes: Why? Just, why did you do this? Also, unbetaed because well, would you give this to your beta?
Travis knew he shouldn’t laugh, but my god, how could he not? Wes Mitchell, tight ass extraordinaire, was currently high as a kite… on cough syrup.
“Trav,” he spluttered, stumbling against his partner’s shoulder, bouncing off slightly. “Do you want to know a secret?”
“Sure,” Travis said, covering his mouth to keep the laughter inside.
“Travis,” Wes stage whispered, likely thinking he was being quiet, “I love you.”
“Wait, what?” Travis took hold of Wes’ shoulders. “What the hell did they put into your cough syrup?”
“I’m not sure,” Wes said, holding up the bottle, “but the first three doses were pretty nasty.”
“First… three?” Travis snagged the bottle out of the blond’s hand, groaning at the lightness. “You took it all? I thought you hated medications of any kind?”
“I do,” he agreed, trailing a finger down the middle of Travis’ broad chest, wavering just a bit on his feet. “But I feel soooooo baaaaaaaad, Traaavissss. It wasn’t working. So I took more.”
“You took the whole bottle, you dumbass.” He stared at the label, reading for any possibility of overdose. “Oh good god, Wes. Man, this shit’s got codeine in it, no wonder you’re so loopy.”
Travis took Wes by the arm, tugging at him until he decided to follow along. “Does this mean you don’t love me back?”
Marks looked at the pout sitting so prettily on his partner’s flushed pink lips. There were a thousand responses to that question, not a one of them appropriate. Yes, I love your mouth. Yes, I’d love to have my way with you. Also, just simply, yes. But now wasn’t the time. “Yes, Wes, I love you like a brother,” he lied. “You’re my partner, right?”
“Right,” he agreed, placing a flat palm against Travis’ chest. “You’re more solid than I imagined. Sturdy.” He gave Travis’ chest a couple whacks for emphasis.
Holy hell, he’d imagined how his chest felt? “Look, Wes, I think…”
His voice was cut off by his partner’s mouth landing squarely on his own. With a slide of a palm, Wes’ hand retreated from his chest and secured itself around his waist, pulling him in closer. Knowing he should resist, Travis instead gave in, opening his mouth and allowing Wes in. There was no doubt he’d imbibed the entire bottle – his tongue tasted of medicine and artificial cherry flavor.
Wes giggled, pulling back from the kiss. “I kissed a boy and I liiiiiiiked it,” he sang, dancing away from Travis, each twirl bringing him closer to tripping over his own two feet.
“Wes, baby, please. Come sit down before you hurt yourself.” Concerned for his partner, Travis chased him around the larger than ordinary hotel room he called home.
“Gotta catch me fiiiirst,” he called out behind him, stumbling over a shoe he’d discarded earlier.
“Damnit, Wes, you’re going to fall,” he shouted.
“Aw, but you’ll kiss my boo-boos all better, won’t you, Trav?” He fluttered his golden eyelashes in Travis’ direction, breaking down any last ounces of resistance he might’ve had left.
“Oh you better believe I will,” he muttered under his breath. “Wes! Watch it!”
Too late. Wes tripped over the other shoe he’d discarded, landing flat on his ass on the carpet. Frowning, he rubbed a stinging cheek.
“Travis, I fell down,” he said.
“I see that. I warned you about that, too, didn’t I?” The overly paternal sound in his voice made him pause. When the hell did he become the mature one in this partnership?
“You did,” he agreed, still rubbing a butt cheek. “But I hurt my butt. Kiss it better?”
Travis had to bite his lip – hard. Of all the things he’d love to do to that firm, tight ass, kissing hadn’t ever been one of them. “No, I will not. But I will help you up. C’mon.”
He held out a hand which Wes looked at curiously before taking hold of it with both of his. Travis gave a pull and hauled his partner to his feet. “Now that you’re up, you’re going to bed and staying there. Understand me?”
Wes nodded, looking chastised.
“Good, now come on.”
Wes followed, obedient, and allowed Travis to tuck him into his king sized bed. “Stay with me,” he whispered, patting the empty space beside him.
He knew he was playing with fire but he couldn’t say he gave a damn. Kicking off his shoes, he shrugged. “Okay, baby, I can do that.”
Travis sat on the edge of the bed, eliciting a grin out of the blond. “All the way in, I’m coooold and need a cuddle.”
Travis pressed his lips together, praying for a miracle. Molesting his partner while he was under the influence of too much cough syrup would not go over well with the captain. He could do this, however. He could make it until morning, when Wes was sober again and, hopefully, feeling better. Deciding the risk was worth the slim possibility of a rather sweaty reward in the morning, he held out his arms. “All right. Get on over here.
“Yay,” Wes cheered, happily. “Sleep over!”
“Give me strength,” he muttered. “I thought this shit was supposed to make you sleepy, not hyper. I’m going to have to have a talk with that doctor in the morning.”
“Awww, don’t be mad, Traaaviiisss,” Wes cooed. “Hold me and love me and…”
“…call you George?” Travis smiled at that. Leave it to Wes, drugged and out of his mind, to remember his favorite cartoons.
“Yeah, call me George. Just not during sex though, okay? I’d rather you called me something closer to my actual name. Wes. Or Mitchell. Hell, call me ‘detective’ big boy. I think I might like that.”
Travis put a hand over Wes’ mouth, stopping the inflammatory flow of words. “Just. Stop. Right. There. Please, for the love of god, stop. No more sex talk. Or love talk. Or kissing.”
“Why,” he asked from behind the barrier of Travis’ hand.
“Because,” he growled, moving his face in close to Wes’, “I might not be able to wait until you’re not stoned on cough syrup to take you up on all of this babble. And that, we both might regret. Got it?”
Wes nodded before mumbling something more.
“What?” Travis moved his hand so Wes could speak.
“But what if I ask when I’m not so loopy?” His big blue eyes shone with curiosity. And maybe a little codeine.
“Then, well, we’ll discuss it.” For all of four seconds before I pin you to the bed and screw you senseless. “Now, you need some sleep.”
As if on cue, Wes yawned, curling into Travis’ side. “Okay. Night Marks, see you in the morning.”
Travis slung a protective arm across his partner. “Night, Blondie.”
But Wes was already snoring.
Fandom: Common Law
Pairing: Travis Marks+Wes Mitchell
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,133
Warnings: Stupidity ahoy!
Short Summary: Wes lets a secret slip while high on cough syrup. Travis may or may not survive the night.
Author’s Notes: Why? Just, why did you do this? Also, unbetaed because well, would you give this to your beta?
Travis knew he shouldn’t laugh, but my god, how could he not? Wes Mitchell, tight ass extraordinaire, was currently high as a kite… on cough syrup.
“Trav,” he spluttered, stumbling against his partner’s shoulder, bouncing off slightly. “Do you want to know a secret?”
“Sure,” Travis said, covering his mouth to keep the laughter inside.
“Travis,” Wes stage whispered, likely thinking he was being quiet, “I love you.”
“Wait, what?” Travis took hold of Wes’ shoulders. “What the hell did they put into your cough syrup?”
“I’m not sure,” Wes said, holding up the bottle, “but the first three doses were pretty nasty.”
“First… three?” Travis snagged the bottle out of the blond’s hand, groaning at the lightness. “You took it all? I thought you hated medications of any kind?”
“I do,” he agreed, trailing a finger down the middle of Travis’ broad chest, wavering just a bit on his feet. “But I feel soooooo baaaaaaaad, Traaavissss. It wasn’t working. So I took more.”
“You took the whole bottle, you dumbass.” He stared at the label, reading for any possibility of overdose. “Oh good god, Wes. Man, this shit’s got codeine in it, no wonder you’re so loopy.”
Travis took Wes by the arm, tugging at him until he decided to follow along. “Does this mean you don’t love me back?”
Marks looked at the pout sitting so prettily on his partner’s flushed pink lips. There were a thousand responses to that question, not a one of them appropriate. Yes, I love your mouth. Yes, I’d love to have my way with you. Also, just simply, yes. But now wasn’t the time. “Yes, Wes, I love you like a brother,” he lied. “You’re my partner, right?”
“Right,” he agreed, placing a flat palm against Travis’ chest. “You’re more solid than I imagined. Sturdy.” He gave Travis’ chest a couple whacks for emphasis.
Holy hell, he’d imagined how his chest felt? “Look, Wes, I think…”
His voice was cut off by his partner’s mouth landing squarely on his own. With a slide of a palm, Wes’ hand retreated from his chest and secured itself around his waist, pulling him in closer. Knowing he should resist, Travis instead gave in, opening his mouth and allowing Wes in. There was no doubt he’d imbibed the entire bottle – his tongue tasted of medicine and artificial cherry flavor.
Wes giggled, pulling back from the kiss. “I kissed a boy and I liiiiiiiked it,” he sang, dancing away from Travis, each twirl bringing him closer to tripping over his own two feet.
“Wes, baby, please. Come sit down before you hurt yourself.” Concerned for his partner, Travis chased him around the larger than ordinary hotel room he called home.
“Gotta catch me fiiiirst,” he called out behind him, stumbling over a shoe he’d discarded earlier.
“Damnit, Wes, you’re going to fall,” he shouted.
“Aw, but you’ll kiss my boo-boos all better, won’t you, Trav?” He fluttered his golden eyelashes in Travis’ direction, breaking down any last ounces of resistance he might’ve had left.
“Oh you better believe I will,” he muttered under his breath. “Wes! Watch it!”
Too late. Wes tripped over the other shoe he’d discarded, landing flat on his ass on the carpet. Frowning, he rubbed a stinging cheek.
“Travis, I fell down,” he said.
“I see that. I warned you about that, too, didn’t I?” The overly paternal sound in his voice made him pause. When the hell did he become the mature one in this partnership?
“You did,” he agreed, still rubbing a butt cheek. “But I hurt my butt. Kiss it better?”
Travis had to bite his lip – hard. Of all the things he’d love to do to that firm, tight ass, kissing hadn’t ever been one of them. “No, I will not. But I will help you up. C’mon.”
He held out a hand which Wes looked at curiously before taking hold of it with both of his. Travis gave a pull and hauled his partner to his feet. “Now that you’re up, you’re going to bed and staying there. Understand me?”
Wes nodded, looking chastised.
“Good, now come on.”
Wes followed, obedient, and allowed Travis to tuck him into his king sized bed. “Stay with me,” he whispered, patting the empty space beside him.
He knew he was playing with fire but he couldn’t say he gave a damn. Kicking off his shoes, he shrugged. “Okay, baby, I can do that.”
Travis sat on the edge of the bed, eliciting a grin out of the blond. “All the way in, I’m coooold and need a cuddle.”
Travis pressed his lips together, praying for a miracle. Molesting his partner while he was under the influence of too much cough syrup would not go over well with the captain. He could do this, however. He could make it until morning, when Wes was sober again and, hopefully, feeling better. Deciding the risk was worth the slim possibility of a rather sweaty reward in the morning, he held out his arms. “All right. Get on over here.
“Yay,” Wes cheered, happily. “Sleep over!”
“Give me strength,” he muttered. “I thought this shit was supposed to make you sleepy, not hyper. I’m going to have to have a talk with that doctor in the morning.”
“Awww, don’t be mad, Traaaviiisss,” Wes cooed. “Hold me and love me and…”
“…call you George?” Travis smiled at that. Leave it to Wes, drugged and out of his mind, to remember his favorite cartoons.
“Yeah, call me George. Just not during sex though, okay? I’d rather you called me something closer to my actual name. Wes. Or Mitchell. Hell, call me ‘detective’ big boy. I think I might like that.”
Travis put a hand over Wes’ mouth, stopping the inflammatory flow of words. “Just. Stop. Right. There. Please, for the love of god, stop. No more sex talk. Or love talk. Or kissing.”
“Why,” he asked from behind the barrier of Travis’ hand.
“Because,” he growled, moving his face in close to Wes’, “I might not be able to wait until you’re not stoned on cough syrup to take you up on all of this babble. And that, we both might regret. Got it?”
Wes nodded before mumbling something more.
“What?” Travis moved his hand so Wes could speak.
“But what if I ask when I’m not so loopy?” His big blue eyes shone with curiosity. And maybe a little codeine.
“Then, well, we’ll discuss it.” For all of four seconds before I pin you to the bed and screw you senseless. “Now, you need some sleep.”
As if on cue, Wes yawned, curling into Travis’ side. “Okay. Night Marks, see you in the morning.”
Travis slung a protective arm across his partner. “Night, Blondie.”
But Wes was already snoring.
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Date: 2014-02-01 01:42 am (UTC)Well done, you!
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Date: 2014-02-02 12:53 am (UTC)Anyway, thank you so much for reading and for this wonderful comment!
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Date: 2014-02-03 06:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-02-01 10:56 pm (UTC)Now knowing the crazy-ass week I had with bathroom remodel hell, you should've been willing, nay, it should've been *required* that you send this to me. Good Lord I laughed like heck. (and that is one of our favorite cartoons, so an extra bonus chuckle for me)
Thank you for that delicious little hiatus .....
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Date: 2014-02-02 12:49 am (UTC)You are so very welcome and thank YOU for reading and enjoying!