Fic: And Every Inch You See
Title I Hope You'll Stick Around (8/15)
Rating G
Fandom Flight of the Conchords
Characters -
Pairing Bret/Jemaine
Summery Everything calmed down, the boys hang out and watch some tv. Also, Jemaine stole Murray's credit card.
When Bret woke up an hour and a half later, the apartment was empty and the TV was off. He woke up to his striped blanket on top of him and a note taped to his chest. He plucked it from his shirt curiously, speed-reading the scrawled handwriting with a learned ease.
Bret-
You snore.
And I went out for the groceries.
Hope I get back before you wake up
(You’re cute when you sleep :) )
-Jem
Bret smiled and walked to the fridge to tape the note there, but Jemaine was suddenly in the open doorway, carrying two bags of groceries and sporting a fresh bandage on his cheek. Bret plucked one bag from his hands and quickly got it out of the way, onto the table, so he could hug Jemaine and kiss his un-bandaged cheek. Jemaine laughed and hugged him with a free arm, bending Bret backwards so he could set the other bag on the table and hug Bret properly.
“Good nap?”
“Yes, what’d you buy at the store?” Bret zipped to the bags, hastily unshuffling the contents from within and getting right down to putting the food away. Jemaine sat down in one of the chairs and watched Bret’s oo’s and ah’s over the various foods, fruits, and cereals he bought, thinking of Bret especially this time. He bought red delicious apples, plenty of eggs, sugary cereals, small loaves of bread, plenty of bottled water, and, one of Bret’s newest favourite foods: Oreo Poptarts. Personally, Jemaine hated them, but anything for his little buddy. There was also a small pint of Ben & Jerry’s near the bottom, which Bret undoubtedly put away first.
Everything was put away in minutes flat, save for the Poptarts which were being toasted in the toaster oven. Bret stood around awkwardly until the toaster finished and then grabbed the pastries quickly, yelping at the burns they inflicted. A few mild swears and they were on a paper towel and Bret’s hands were under cool water in the sink. Jemaine tried not to laugh, he really did, but it was impossible not to. He stopped at the hating glare Bret threw him and muttered quietly to himself about how it was entirely Bret’s fault.
That was at 11:45
Now, nearly five hours later, after band practice, a run to Dave’s, and a bit more hassling from Eugene about the rent, the boys were watching TV. Bret sat in his box, idly wondering why anyone would termite mounds, and watching Bizarre Foods: Australia. There was no episode on New Zealand.
“Of course, they would eat termite spit,” Jemaine commented as he redressed his injury on the couch, keeping one eye on the TV to see what other disgusting things Australians did.
“Apparently, it tastes good,” Bret shrugged, judging off the host’s reaction. It wasn’t exactly positive, but it wasn’t negative, either. He looked up to Jemaine, then the sprawl of medical supplies on the couch. “Where’d you get the money for all this?”
“You know Bevon?” Jemaine glanced at Bret, “The guy that abuses me at the store?”
“Yes.”
“He wasn’t there. I got most of this stuff on discount. But we owe Murray and Dave a lot of money,”
“You saw Murray?”
“No, just his credit card number,”
Bret shrugged and accepted this bit of felony. Jemaine started to put the medical supplies away after a bit of Neosporin and soon relaxed fully on the couch. Bret looked up to him with a smile and hugged his knees tighter to his chest. Jemaine noticed and laughed a little.
“What’s up?”
“Nothing,” Bret flushed with the biggest smile he could manage.
“No… there’s something there,”
“Honest, it’s nothing!” He laughed. Jemaine stood, challenging him with a grin, and didn’t accept no for an answer.
“I think you’re lying!” He accused, pulling Bret up by his scrawny arms and pushing the box out from under him. Bret kept laughing, giggling, snickering, as Jemaine held him up, his big arms wrapped securely around his lithe form.
“Honest, Jem!” Bret giggled, holding onto his shoulders for support; not that he needed it, he practically had his legs around Jemaine’s waist.
“You shouldn’t lie, Bret,” Jemaine admonished and carried him to the bedroom. “I’ll have to put you in time out,”
“Oh, you would do that, would you?”
Jemaine set Bret down on his bed and climbed on as well. Leaning down, he brushed it mouth against Bret’s ear and whispered a deep, “Try me.”
Rating G
Fandom Flight of the Conchords
Characters -
Pairing Bret/Jemaine
Summery Everything calmed down, the boys hang out and watch some tv. Also, Jemaine stole Murray's credit card.
When Bret woke up an hour and a half later, the apartment was empty and the TV was off. He woke up to his striped blanket on top of him and a note taped to his chest. He plucked it from his shirt curiously, speed-reading the scrawled handwriting with a learned ease.
Bret-
You snore.
And I went out for the groceries.
Hope I get back before you wake up
(You’re cute when you sleep :) )
-Jem
Bret smiled and walked to the fridge to tape the note there, but Jemaine was suddenly in the open doorway, carrying two bags of groceries and sporting a fresh bandage on his cheek. Bret plucked one bag from his hands and quickly got it out of the way, onto the table, so he could hug Jemaine and kiss his un-bandaged cheek. Jemaine laughed and hugged him with a free arm, bending Bret backwards so he could set the other bag on the table and hug Bret properly.
“Good nap?”
“Yes, what’d you buy at the store?” Bret zipped to the bags, hastily unshuffling the contents from within and getting right down to putting the food away. Jemaine sat down in one of the chairs and watched Bret’s oo’s and ah’s over the various foods, fruits, and cereals he bought, thinking of Bret especially this time. He bought red delicious apples, plenty of eggs, sugary cereals, small loaves of bread, plenty of bottled water, and, one of Bret’s newest favourite foods: Oreo Poptarts. Personally, Jemaine hated them, but anything for his little buddy. There was also a small pint of Ben & Jerry’s near the bottom, which Bret undoubtedly put away first.
Everything was put away in minutes flat, save for the Poptarts which were being toasted in the toaster oven. Bret stood around awkwardly until the toaster finished and then grabbed the pastries quickly, yelping at the burns they inflicted. A few mild swears and they were on a paper towel and Bret’s hands were under cool water in the sink. Jemaine tried not to laugh, he really did, but it was impossible not to. He stopped at the hating glare Bret threw him and muttered quietly to himself about how it was entirely Bret’s fault.
That was at 11:45
Now, nearly five hours later, after band practice, a run to Dave’s, and a bit more hassling from Eugene about the rent, the boys were watching TV. Bret sat in his box, idly wondering why anyone would termite mounds, and watching Bizarre Foods: Australia. There was no episode on New Zealand.
“Of course, they would eat termite spit,” Jemaine commented as he redressed his injury on the couch, keeping one eye on the TV to see what other disgusting things Australians did.
“Apparently, it tastes good,” Bret shrugged, judging off the host’s reaction. It wasn’t exactly positive, but it wasn’t negative, either. He looked up to Jemaine, then the sprawl of medical supplies on the couch. “Where’d you get the money for all this?”
“You know Bevon?” Jemaine glanced at Bret, “The guy that abuses me at the store?”
“Yes.”
“He wasn’t there. I got most of this stuff on discount. But we owe Murray and Dave a lot of money,”
“You saw Murray?”
“No, just his credit card number,”
Bret shrugged and accepted this bit of felony. Jemaine started to put the medical supplies away after a bit of Neosporin and soon relaxed fully on the couch. Bret looked up to him with a smile and hugged his knees tighter to his chest. Jemaine noticed and laughed a little.
“What’s up?”
“Nothing,” Bret flushed with the biggest smile he could manage.
“No… there’s something there,”
“Honest, it’s nothing!” He laughed. Jemaine stood, challenging him with a grin, and didn’t accept no for an answer.
“I think you’re lying!” He accused, pulling Bret up by his scrawny arms and pushing the box out from under him. Bret kept laughing, giggling, snickering, as Jemaine held him up, his big arms wrapped securely around his lithe form.
“Honest, Jem!” Bret giggled, holding onto his shoulders for support; not that he needed it, he practically had his legs around Jemaine’s waist.
“You shouldn’t lie, Bret,” Jemaine admonished and carried him to the bedroom. “I’ll have to put you in time out,”
“Oh, you would do that, would you?”
Jemaine set Bret down on his bed and climbed on as well. Leaning down, he brushed it mouth against Bret’s ear and whispered a deep, “Try me.”