Author's Note: Pointless quasi-romantic. Before anyone bothers to freak si is the appropriate affirmative response to a negative question in French, i.e. Don't the musicians play beautifully? Si, they do.
Bobby poked his boyfriend laying on the couch. He knew he was asking for trouble but was feeling slightly neglected after Jean-Paul had gone out on FRIDAY night with some Alpha buddies who were visiting NY. The figure grunted as the poke connected.
The younger man guessed he was quite hung over since he was watching tv with some very expensive Gucci wrap around shades on. And a tassled ski cap. And he had that sort of reeky alcohol hang over smell about him.
Bobby shook him harder, a grunt was not what he was after.
"What! Calisse de crisse de tabarnak d'ostie de ciboire de testament!" Mutter, mutter, mutter.
"Get up, it's Saturday. You're day off, that you are supposed to spend with me."
Northstar rolled as far away from Bobby's hands as possible on the narrow rec room couch.
"C'mon. Pleeeeeze?"
"Crisse moi patience!"
"What?"
"Go away."
Bobby siddled onto the end of the couch and reached under the throw to grab a Canadian foot.
"Did someone have too much to drink last night? I hope you had fun though."
Jean-Paul deigned to roll onto his back so he could see his tormentor and shoved his feet into Bobby's denim covered lap.
"mmm. Yeah. It was fun. Judd brought some rum from somewhere and Walt brought his secret basement smoke stash."
Bobby rubbed the chilly feet in his hands.
"They aren't still in town?" It annoyed him that he couldn't see Jean-Paul's eyes behind those stupid sunglasses.
"Si, si, they are, but they leave tomorrow. Happy now?"
"I just want my fair share." Bobby smirked.
"Well, your share is not up for much other than watching tv."
"Isn't that stupid metabolism good for anything? I would think you could fly off a hangover in a few seconds. But I guess I was wrong, all it's good for is making you highstrung and thin."
Bobby gave a little laugh, even with the sunglasses he could see the "laser beam of death" stare. He clambered up and laid himself down on top of the irritated man. Time for some skillfully employeed neck nuzzling. He softly kissed a line from pointy ear down the throat of his zippy pullover.
A little sigh of something escaped Northstar. At that moment, Bobby knew he would get his way.
"What did you want to do so badly anyway?" Jean-Paul wound one of his arms around Bobby's waist.
"Oh, I don't know, go to the city, go to a movie, play video games, fuck." He flashed the older man a painfully earnest look.
"In any particular order?" A hand started to pet Bobby's hip.
"Well, I am really hungry..." Jean-Paul gave a snort and started to push Bobby off of him.
"I'm kidding, kidding. Why is there something you wanted to do?" He ran a hand over the captive body soothingly.
"You mean aside from watch tv in peace?"
That was Bobby's cue to get up in mock irritation until strong hands on his sides held him down.
"I have good compromise. We can eat left over chinese food in my bed while watching tv, and then... fucking." Bobby gently humped against Jean-Paul.
"I am seeing a theme here." A dark eyebrow shot up.
"So what do you say?"
"I think that sounds like the best cure for a hangover I have ever heard."
And it was. After two cartons of lo mein, 3 episodes of star trek, and some energetic fucking Jean-Paul's hangover was cured.
