Disclaimer: Since you all know I'm rich and well off- OF COURSE I DON'T OWN DOGS. don't rub it in. assholes.

Notes: I'M BAAAAACK! DID YOU MISS ME? Its okay to disassemble your tributes to me, I'm here now. So. All I've got to say is, these are more….domestic…drabbles? Two and a half of which take place in the bathroom. One of my favorite places. Fun fact about the author, keep that in mind. If there are any new readers out there, welcome to my fuckedup tales. You don't have to read BCC to understand this, but hey, why don't you pop over there when you're done here, give it a read? I had a plan of what all was gonna say in this, but its much too long and stupid. So I'm shutting up now. ENJOY!

Summary: Whoever said clichés don't work are lazy assholes who obviously don't have a moody albino butt buddy around. Stupid assholes.

1. Albino Serenade

He heard it before anything else, immediately picturing some dumbshit kid trying to impress his spazzy baby momma into part-custody of their whiny brat.

But the second the raunchy lyrics, as well as the familiar base line spilled in through the half-open window, all became clear. Well, most of it did.

The epitome of reluctance, limbs heavy, Heine found himself in one of those deja vu moments, fluidly rolling off the couch to make a bee-line for the window. [Oh, hello blood stain stupid ginger never bothered to clean up last time] He vaguely recalled a situation a few weeks back where he was summoned by that fuckwads retarded scheme for…something. Whatever. He dismissed it, pulling the curtain all the way open. [That guy may be stupid, but Heine'd give him credit this once]

That is until he peered out, pupils doused by streaming sunlight.

"…Maybe if I pretend I don't know him, he'll get bored and leave."

'You are inclined to make me rise an hour early just like daylight savings time

Do it now

You and me baby, we ain't nothin but mammals, so let's do it like they do on the discovery channel

Do it again now

You and me baby, we ain't nothin but mammals so let's do it like they do on the discovery channel

Getting horny now'

The eccentric fuck stood on the street corner- no, not exchanging hand jobs for cigarettes- [ He needed a bit more evidence besides the redheads usual aroma] a scruffy black boom box hefted high above his head and a determined quirk to his lips.

To say that Heine was content to just walk away and feign no association with the idiot was a no-brainer. Unfortunately that battle plan was quickly cockblocked repeatedly, figuratively speaking, when Badou began to call his name. Of sorts.

"Heeeeeeeeeeey! Dicklover! Don't act like you dun' know meeee!" The redhead broke off his tirade in order to pin a withering glare [ as if the eye patch PLUS the boom box wasn't intimidating enough] on the gawking pedestrians who paused mid-step and stared. It was just lady luck which allowed them to not become plowed by rushing traffic.

"Almost as bad as that one time when I fell asleep and you put your dick in my mouth and took a picture! Heyyyyy! 'member that? That's some fucked up shit right there! Anyway, if you let me in we can talk about this like mature adults. Whadda ya say, Q-Tip?"

A blur of black leather abruptly smacked him in the face. Namely right between the eyes, leaving a reddening, stinging mark. Badou had received his answer, indeed. In the form of a boot to the noggin.

"Shitmotherfuckingweak!" He snarled, blinking his lone teary eye up at the stoic-faced [No, he could tell that bastard was secretly pleased with himself. The bastard. Getting off on his fucking pain.] albino, there at the open window.

"That fucking hurt! Goddamn ass cookie! When I get up there you're gonna be begging me to fuck you! Ungrateful shit!"

Heine chose that moment to poke his head out the window, interrupting Badou's latest bitch-fit, and declared, "Get your annoying ass up here. You're making a fucking scene." [The one begging would be Badou, not him. Begging for Mercy. How dare he disturb the peace? Again. People he didn't even know, were staring! Only torture would solve today's transgressions, Heine resolved]

Badous' thin lips split into a triumphant grin, and the pedestrians unease grew tenfold. [ Those closest to the redhead broke into a sprint, fearing for their lives, well being, and the unpleasantness that is sodomy] He crammed the boom box [still playing that god-awful fucktune] beneath his arm and hustled inside the apartment building, oblivious to the terror he had created in the span of ten minutes.

One pleasant elevator ride later, ["Whazzat? Yeah man, s'right. I'm getting some tang tonight."] Badou stood before Heine's door. He switched the deafening music off, adjusted his five-buck athletic cup, [never could be too careful, and he fully expected a foot to his cock in greeting] and knocked.

"Heine-chan! Open up!"

The stained [like, literally, thefuck is that, grated cheese on there or some brains?] steel door whooshed open, and Badou was immediately greeted hello by way of a foot to his groin.

As Heine, unsurprisingly disappointed, set his bare foot back on Planet Earth, the redhead smirked and gave his crotch an affectionate tap, producing a dull hollow sound.

"Take that bitch! Came prepared."

Heine let something that could barely be considered as a huff escape his lips and after delivering a slug in the gut which left Badou breathless, led his dumbass partner inside. "Whatthefuckever, dip shit." The redhead smirked [ phase one complete, a voice in his head chirped] and settled the boom box beside the door; for safe keeping when things got heated. [in Heine's pants, another voice cheered, his smirk widened at that]

He caught up with Heine in two (un) graceful strides [almost tripping over the shitty excuse for a rug], grabbed the albino by the arm and spun him around, one hand coasting to the small of his partners back.

"Hey, what's the hurry Princess Icicle-Up-Ass? Since I take it you forgive me and all, we oughtta catch up on some kinky foreplay, eh?" The shiteating gonna-get-me-some grin that had wormed its way across his lips didn't even budge a smidge by Heine's irritated scowl. He was pretty much accustomed to the dickheads' shitty mood swings, at least when he was relatively [it was a stretch to call it even that] calm.

"I never said anything about forgiving you, asshole," Heine ground out, and if he had lasers for eyes, Badou was sure he'd be dust in the blink of an eye. Whatever was keeping the albino from ripping his arms off and throwing him out was a godsend, Badou briefly thought.

The hand at the small of Heine's back instantly glided down, cupping one leather-clad cheek. The albino stirred slightly under his touch, but otherwise made no further response.

"S'not like I did it on purpose. Healed well enough, didnit?" He flexed too-nimble-for- someone-so-clumsy fingers over the surface, as if testing Heine's ass for blemishes. [ Pft, as if. Ass of steel, Badou Nails guarantee]

"You shot me in the ass," Heine deadpanned, obviously still a tad bitter if the blazing eyes weren't proof enough. [two settings, default: bored, or angry]

"Methinks someone's got a sand dune up their vagina," Badou sing-songed giddily, tactfully smoothing his other hand up to the albino's shoulder. [take that whoever called him a non-smooth criminal!]

"Fuck off," Heine replied, his eyes narrowed maliciously. [Oh he would pay]

When he began to pull away [to aim a well-deserved punch to Badou's seeing-eye] the hand on his ass suddenly pressed him in close, and Badou brought their mouths together.

Heine instantly released his fist to tangle it in strands of fire-engine-red hair, tugging Badou's face further into his, awkwardly smashing their noses into each other, then getting the hang of it and tilting his head a little and allowing further access to Badou's tongue and all corners of his mouth.

The redhead had to come up for air sometime, as well as for safety against getting his lips bitten off. He giggled dazedly, murky green eye clouded with lust, desire, and nicotine-deprivation. [now wherethefuck did his cig get to, again? Dammit, this is the last fucking time…]

"Care to join me in the forbidden monkey dance, butt munch?" He slurred, er, purred, wiggling his tongue lecherously.

"Care to shut the fuck up?" Heine countered, and without waiting for a response [never did], ground his mouth into Badou's once more.

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EDIT: FFFFFFT. THE BOOM BOX DID A DIAPPEARING ACT BEFORE. HAD TO FIX. MY BAD *bashes head in*

WOOT. I didn't wanna ruin the surprize!songfic in the beginning, so w/o further shit: I do NOT OWN the Bad Touch. Bloodhound Gang does.

Was a lil worried about what to do with Heine, initially. I could have either made him a bit embarrassed and pissed (but never showing it) at all the people staring, or have him be a big ass. For your (and my) entertainment, I chose numero uno.

So. Do you want more, my loves? If so, then SAY IT in a review! 3333 until next time!