Countdown
By: CrystallicSky
Disclaimer: If I owned a TV show, even one that's off the air these days, I get the feeling I wouldn't be writing fanfiction about it.
Warnings: Not really any; I mean. there's slight implication of smexing towards the end, but otherwise, not that much.
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"Spicer," Chase snarled, furious, "I hate you! What will it take for you to realize that?" The goth only smirked at him and said, "Five." The warlord scowled at the nonsensical reply and pointed to the door, growling, "Leave!" The genius did so with no further complaint.
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"Spicer," Chase frowned, annoyed, "I thought I told you to leave me alone." The goth only smiled and spoke, "Four." The warlord crossed his arms, instructing, "Go." The genius did so quietly.
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"Spicer," Chase acknowledged blankly, "why do you insist on returning here?" The goth only grinned and answered, "Three." The warlord looked at him for a moment before informing, as if Jack were entirely unaware, "You've no reason to be here." The genius turned and left without another word.
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"Spicer," Chase noted, looking the intruder to his home over, "you confound me: why is it that you keep coming here only to tell me a number?" The goth looked at him softly. "Two." The warlord caught the teen's arm before he could leave and held him still, looking deeply into youthful, crimson irises. Abruptly, the man gasped, releasing his grip in astonishment upon seeing an incredibly profound love in those eyes. The genius was out the door before he could protest.
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"Spicer," Chase spoke quietly, seeing Jack once more in the doorway of his citadel, "you've returned…" The goth looked up at him, appearing almost awkward as he shuffled his feet and shifted nervously. As his mouth once more opened to speak today's number before he would take his leave, the warlord stood from his throne, holding the boy tightly in place so as to keep such a leave from happening and kissing him full on the lips. As the kiss was broken, the albino's mouth quirked into a smile, and before he was whisked away to his idol's bedroom, he whispered, "One…"
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"Spicer," Chase purred, idly tracing patterns on a bare, white stomach, "tell me what all that numbering was about." The goth grinned proudly. "It was a countdown," he informed the man, using more words to speak to him than he had in days, "I had a feeling it'd drive you crazy if I kept showing up every day but hardly even talking to you, so I decided to give it a try, and it totally worked: five, four, three, two, one-" The warlord cut him off, straddling the albino's hips and lustily smirking, "Blast off…"
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A/N: So, this is just a cute, little thing I wrote 'cause, hey, it was the weekend still (kinda) and I figured I should maximize what little completely free time I have to write said cute, little things.
Hope you liked it! :)