Actually, it probably wasn't the lemonade that had made him sick. It was probably the rum-spiked eggnog that Chris had brought over. After tripping over his own drunk feet and spilling the nog on the couch, he stopped drinking that and only then had hit the lemonade.

But even then, what really might have had his stomach in knots was the way Chris had been acting. All flirty and shit like he was Joey or somebody, earlier scootching up to him and draping an arm around him. He probably wouldn't have given it a second thought, except he had been very drunk and very willing to just lean into Chris and snuggle.

"Aw, look, Lanshy is drunk," JC had teased. Chris was running his hands through Lance's hair, so he'd dismissed JC's use of that particular mutation of his name.

"Hey Chris, keep petting him like that and I'll bet he'll put out for you," Joey said, leaning over to nudge Chris.

They'd all laughed at that, except Chris, who just smiled and continued to pet. Lance would have chimed in with a loud "Hey!" and maybe would have made a joke about not being THAT easy, but in his drunken haze he thought that he might actually want to put out for Chris. So he kept his mouth shut and wrapped his arms around Chris waist.

They kept their position on the couch, even as the guys started to leave. "Hey Scoop, thanks for the party," Justin said and patted Lance on the head.

JC patted his head, too. "Yeah, thanks. Hope you don't feel too hung over in the morning -- you promised me you'd go Christmas shopping with me."

Joey grinned at Chris, then regarded Lance with a leer. "Don't let this guy get his knick-knack-patty-whack on with you, he's not a pretty sight to wake up to in the morning."

Chris lightly punched him in the arm. "Like you'd know. You've never seen my patty-whack," Chris said, and wiggled his eyebrows.

"Just make sure he gets to bed okay," Joey said. "If I find out you let him pass out on the bathroom floor, I'm going to kick your ass Kirkpatrick."

Lance had just about fallen asleep at this point, his head now resting in Chris' lap. After Joey left, Lance turned over, facing Chris' stomach. He heard a soft moan, but pretended he was still asleep. Chris began petting his head again, and he nuzzled into Chris' lap like a pillow. The moan this time was louder, and he felt Chris' hips shift under him.

He thought maybe Chris himself had fallen asleep because the petting slowed and eventually stopped, Chris' hand resting on the back of his neck. His stomach rumbled and he sat up. Suddenly nose to nose with Chris, he realized that the older man had not fallen asleep, and he breathed a 'hey' against his lips.

"Mmm. You smell fruity. And noggy," Chris said and bit his lip.

"Noggy thanks to you," Lance said. His lips started to brush against Chris', but his stomach churned and he turned his head and burped a little. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

Chris squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed at his face as Lance ran to the bathroom. He heard the water run and sighed. He grabbed the remote control off the table and surfed through a slew of horrid late-night movies and infomercials, settling on an advertisement for a shoe called the "orthopedic wonder mule."

In the bathroom, Lance rinsed his face off, the nausea fading even though he had been fully prepared to hurl into the next week. He breathed in deeply and looked at the door. It looked impossible large and he didn't know if he would be able to open it. He knew Chris was on the other side, waiting.

He stood and looked in the mirror at his eyes, which suddenly seemed too dark to be his own. He wondered about Chris's eyes -- how they might look, sparkling back at him after sex, or in the morning as he first opened them.

He could either stay in the bathroom -- perhaps curl up on the floor and eventually have Chris haul his passed out ass into bed -- or he could go back out there, kiss Chris like he had wanted too, and allow himself to get lost in love.

In the end, he didn't have to make that choice. He heard the door open, and Chris stood in the doorway, his eyes half open, his mouth slack.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"Did you throw up?"

"No."

"Okay then." Chris grabbed Lance by the shoulders and pulled him out of the bathroom. He left him in the hallway briefly to go turn off the TV, then pushed him towards the bedroom.

Before Chris opened the door Lance stopped him. "Chris?"

"Yeah."

"Thank you." He licked his lips and leaned into Chris, who's hands were all of the sudden caressing his back, and kissed him before opening the door himself.

End.

Originally written as an *Mprov on 12/22/00 with the words knick-knack-patty-whack, Mike's hard lemonade, wonder mule.