Crying at Troy
by PineappleIce

Summary: John joins Chas for a late-night viewing of Troy in his living room.
Author's Note: Definately a one-shot. Tried to keep them in character, but if not, my bad. Remember to review!
Disclaimer: Of course I don't own anything. If I did, I would be making the hardcore slashy sequel.
Warnings: Slash, which of course pwns.

John opened his eyes, shaking, sweaty. He was lying in bed, in just his boxers, and outside it was night, dark and rich and velvet.

What had awoken him? He only had to listen hard for a moment to hear it.

A woman. She sounded like she was singing, but there were no words, only a moaning that made John wince as though it were nails on a chalkboard. And it was coming from his living room.

He leapt up, grabbing the Holy Shotgun from his bedside table, and kicked the door open, looking out into the living room, tense, ready for a fight. What he found there made him swear.

"Fuck!" he snapped, lowering the shotgun.

Chas looked back at him, smiling a little. He was on the sofa, wrapped up in a quilt, apparently watching the TV. The music was coming from there. "I thought you were asleep, John."

"So did I," John replied coldly, putting the shotgun down. "I thought you were a demon- actually, what the fuck are you doing up here? I don't recall saying you could stay."

"It's no fun in my house though," Chas said, and for a moment he looked quite sad. John didn't know much about the boy's home life, but it seemed to displease him. John had never asked about it. Either way, he couldn't say no to the look on his apprentice's face.

"Fine," John said. More moaning came from the TV. "What the fuck are you watching, Chas?"

"Troy," he replied simply. "Hector dies soon, it always makes me cry."

"You don't half watch some shit," John replied, shaking his dark head. Then he sneered, realising what Chas had said. "It makes you cry?"

Chas ignored him. John, knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep with the racket of the TV, went over and plopped himself down beside Chas, who smiled at him and shuffled a bit. John realised that Chas was only wearing his boxers and blushed, then wondered why he was blushing. Soon enough, both of them were under Chas', or rather, John's quilt. For some reason, Chas had his head on John's bare chest. The feel of his curly hair tickled John a little, but he didn't say anything, telling himself it wasn't worth it.

Sure enough, the fight between Hector and Achilles appeared on screen. John smirked a little as Chas began to sniffle, but felt himself stroking his hair absent-mindedly.

John couldn't remember the last time he had cried at a movie, but as Hector died painfully on the TV, his eyes began to prickle. A single tear fell free and he told himself that one tear would not be noticed by Chas. Unfortunately, it landed on the boy's forehead.

Chas looked up, eyes bright, and grinned. "Oh, John-"

"Shut up," John growled.

"Are you going to make me, or just cry on-" Chas began, grinning, but John cut him off by pressing his lips roughly against the boy's soft ones. He drew back after a moment, and saw Chas was blushing.

"Now shut up," John said, but he was smiling.

"Okay," Chas said. "Are you going to go back to bed or watch the rest of the movie with me?"

John considered. "I'll watch the movie."