Real Genius Fic: Five objects Mitch finds when he wades through the total disaster area that is Chris's apartment (Mitch/Chris; R)
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07/28/2007: "Real Genius Fic: Five objects Mitch finds when he wades through the total disaster area that is Chris's apartment (Mitch/Chris; R)"
Title: Five objects Mitch finds when he wades through the total disaster area that is Chris's apartment.
For: valiant
Rating: R, maybe?
1. It's a miracle he can find anything at all in the apartment. But he does. Under a pile of shirts, two empty pizza boxes, and a shoe, he finds the college textbook – Advanced Organic Chemistry – that he'd lent Chris ("It looks like a fun read," Chris had said at the time) three months ago. It has stains on the cover – tomatoes probably, and maybe coffee – but it's still in one piece.
Inside, there are notations in the margins. 'Wrong, wrong, WRONG', and 'Who is the moron that wrote this?', and 'You pay money to study this shit? Come and work with me, forget college'.
The text is still legible. Barely.
2. Tucked inside the back cover of his textbook, he finds porn. It's not the first time he's found one of Chris's porn magazines, but it is the first time he's found it in his textbook.
It's also the first time he's found gay porn.
3. Walking back towards the door – stepping around clothes, electrical parts, and an inflatable elephant and a stuffed turtle in a compromising position – he notices something taped to the front hall.
Condom packages, arranged in a depiction of a double helix. At least, that's what Mitch assumes it's supposed to be. It could be a laser. It's hard to tell.
4. He finds Chris. Chris, who is supposed to be out, Chris who said on the phone, "Yeah, I've got your book. Stop by today – I'll be out, but you have your key."
He finds Chris, down the hallway, past six empty milk crates, five full milk crates, a pile of what looks like mouldering socks, and a swaying tower of books. Down the hallway, beyond the mess, and lying on the bed, dressed in a t-shirt and a pair of flipflops, and lazily jerking his cock. Mitch's breath hitches.
"Did you bring one of the condoms?" Chris asks, his voice a little rough, a little mischievous.
"No –" Mitch starts to say, but plastic crinkles in his hand, and when he looks down, he sees he's hold a condom, bright blue plastic wrapper stark against his palm.
Chris grins.
5. Later, when he's naked but no longer panting; when his lips feel bruised and alive; when he's exhausted, buzzing, and happy, he rolls over onto his side. "Hey," he says, poking Chris in the side and then sliding his hand under the hem of the t-shirt Chris is still wearing, "that's my shirt. I've been looking for it."
Chris huffs, smirking. "I know."
End.
