# 30
title: teenage dirt bag baby
pairing: chris/dave(red mist/kickass)
rating: PG-13
warnings: none
"You're such a fucking pussy man, don't tell me you've never drank before?"
"No, I mean yeah." He's nearly choking on the lining of his own throat and Dave can't help but try to finish off the rest of the beer to drown out his thrift store second guesses and rehabilitate his teenage ego. If Chris means he's lost his virginity to something that tastes like it's been stuck at the bottom of the black lagoon, then yes he has drank alcohol before but he'd rather not indulge if he doesn't have to. Chris looks at him from over the lip of his bottle, half expecting him to vomit up the cable lines of his stomach onto their sleeping bags, and he can't blame him when he moves an inch out of his orbit because his tolerance level is subzero.
Dave is the kind of kid that gets drunk on mountain dew: code red and stays up until the bags under his eyes rival the smudge of black ink splotched over Batman's face like a funeral. Not normal at all like Chris D'Amico must be.
"Seriously, you better drink the rest of that because this is like fucking imported from some place I can't even pronounce."
"I don't think I can do it." He looks at the bottom of the bottle and through the tinted green glass it just looks like the Hulk had shot a load before pissing in it for laughs. Dave could be drinking Crystal or the D'Amico household's piss and he still wouldn't know the difference because all he's ever known is the cheap taste of alcohol stolen behind Marty's house and disappointment. He still can't get himself to step off the metaphorical cliff bed to drink the remainder of alcohol collecting at the bottom of the bottle and it managed to irritate Chris even further until there's a quick slip of class falling away from his fingers. It was an easy movement due to the bottle sweating against his palm and Dave half suspects Chris will just toss it out but he just takes the last swallow like someone who's been harboring brewery systems in their veins since they were shot out of the womb. Dave was going to apologize for being such a pussy but Chris' mouth is sealed over his own, sealing off his vantage points to keep him from slipping away before opening the draw bridge of their mouths and forcing the alcohol into his mouth. He thinks it gets into his lungs because Dave chokes stupidly before the taste of designer sewage is erased with the lingering bit of Chris D'Amico's existence and something like what superman must feel when he's flying off buildings.
They pull apart, Dave staring at the pieces of gold left behind from the foil wrapper of the bottle before staring awkwardly at Chris and for a single moment he regains enough composure to kiss him slowly. "It doesn't taste that bad once you get to the bottom."
"You're still a pussy."
pairing: chris/dave(red mist/kickass)
rating: PG-13
warnings: none
"You're such a fucking pussy man, don't tell me you've never drank before?"
"No, I mean yeah." He's nearly choking on the lining of his own throat and Dave can't help but try to finish off the rest of the beer to drown out his thrift store second guesses and rehabilitate his teenage ego. If Chris means he's lost his virginity to something that tastes like it's been stuck at the bottom of the black lagoon, then yes he has drank alcohol before but he'd rather not indulge if he doesn't have to. Chris looks at him from over the lip of his bottle, half expecting him to vomit up the cable lines of his stomach onto their sleeping bags, and he can't blame him when he moves an inch out of his orbit because his tolerance level is subzero.
Dave is the kind of kid that gets drunk on mountain dew: code red and stays up until the bags under his eyes rival the smudge of black ink splotched over Batman's face like a funeral. Not normal at all like Chris D'Amico must be.
"Seriously, you better drink the rest of that because this is like fucking imported from some place I can't even pronounce."
"I don't think I can do it." He looks at the bottom of the bottle and through the tinted green glass it just looks like the Hulk had shot a load before pissing in it for laughs. Dave could be drinking Crystal or the D'Amico household's piss and he still wouldn't know the difference because all he's ever known is the cheap taste of alcohol stolen behind Marty's house and disappointment. He still can't get himself to step off the metaphorical cliff bed to drink the remainder of alcohol collecting at the bottom of the bottle and it managed to irritate Chris even further until there's a quick slip of class falling away from his fingers. It was an easy movement due to the bottle sweating against his palm and Dave half suspects Chris will just toss it out but he just takes the last swallow like someone who's been harboring brewery systems in their veins since they were shot out of the womb. Dave was going to apologize for being such a pussy but Chris' mouth is sealed over his own, sealing off his vantage points to keep him from slipping away before opening the draw bridge of their mouths and forcing the alcohol into his mouth. He thinks it gets into his lungs because Dave chokes stupidly before the taste of designer sewage is erased with the lingering bit of Chris D'Amico's existence and something like what superman must feel when he's flying off buildings.
They pull apart, Dave staring at the pieces of gold left behind from the foil wrapper of the bottle before staring awkwardly at Chris and for a single moment he regains enough composure to kiss him slowly. "It doesn't taste that bad once you get to the bottom."
"You're still a pussy."