Thank you so much for the reviews so far! Actually, I never expected to receive that much appreciation, since English isn't my native language - I always thought I really sucked at writing English fanfics. I also haven't got a beta-reader, so if you have any comments concerning - for instance - grammar, don't hesitate to review me. Anyway, thanx again!
*****
When Jack stepped into the living room, one look out the window showed him it was already starting to get dark again. He sighed deeply. This seemed like it was going to be another wasted night.
While he approached the couch, he noticed Eric shoving some pans around in the kitchen, and suddenly he felt his stomach roar. He stopped and hesitated for a moment whether he was going to lend his friend a hand or not, but ultimately decided not to - only the thought of seeing Eric wearing nothing but jeans and the same tight shirt he had worn last night, made something grow painfully quick down below.
Stop it, he told himself. Not gonna happen, you know. The whole bed scene - it was an accident. Lay down, soldier.
Suddenly, he heard Eric approaching the living room, and he quickly dove for the couch. He was just in time to hide his arousal behind some pillows, as he casually tried to lie down between them. Eric walked towards Jack, who was panting lightly and reaching for the remote on the table.
"Hey, you awake? Was about time - you slept for twelve hours straight! Are you feeling better now?"
Jack swallowed at the sight of Eric and desperately tried to calm down his breathing. "Eh... yeah, I feel much better, man." He hesitated. "Th-thanks for eh..." He paused, feeling very awkward. "For carrying me to the bedroom and everything..."
Eric raised an eyebrow is his typical way and shrugged. "Well, yeah, no thanks, bud. It's just - you were really wasted and I figured you'd probably feel better if you woke up in a bed instead of hanging on the couch... Right?"
"Right." Jack sighed. "So, are you okay in the kitchen? Should I help you with anything?"
"Nah, you know me - princess of Cooking Land," Eric laughed. "I'll be okay - you just make sure you're ready."
"Ready? For what?" But Eric had already turned around and heading back to the kitchen.
"Hey, I asked you something, princess!" Jack raised his voice.
"Just wait and see," Eric replied with a mysterious smirk, and disappeared into the kitchen. Those four words made Jack throw away the remote and grab an extra pillow - just to make sure...
****
Jack was getting impatient. He had waited for over two hours now, and still 'breakfast' wasn't ready. He had watched some TV, slumbered for a bit on the couch, even did some sit-ups - but still there was no food. Whenever he knocked on the kitchen door and asked if he should help, he only got a mumbling response - but the door wouldn't open.
He decided to try one last time. "Eric, it's six-thirty, maybe we should skip breakfast and go straight to dinner?" No response. "C'mon, I'm starving man! Hurry up, will ya?"
A faint response and some fumbling with plates sounded from behind the door. "Just a minute..."
Jack sighed. "You already said that - like - an hour ago? That's one *plus* fifty-nine minutes, Eric! Get moving!"
Silence.
Jack growled and paced over to the bedroom. He could just as well get himself dressed properly, while Eric could finish ding *whatever* he was doing in there.
He opened his side of the closet and grabbed the first shirt he could find. When he pulled it out, it turned out to be the oldest shirt he owned, all worn-out and in an indefinable greenish color. It was almost too tight when he put it on, but he didn't bother taking out another shirt. This was the best Eric was going to get for get him worked like this. He quickly checked his reflection in the mirror and ran a hand through his hair.
'No *getting ready* tonight, partner,' Jack grunted to himself. 'This is all you'll get from me.'
He turned to the bedroom door and opened it... not. One look at the lock let him know that the key was taken out, and the doorknob didn't cooperate. He banged on the door.
"Hey, Eric - what are you doing? Don't joke around now, buddy. I've had enough of your freakin' weirdness today!"
Quietness all around.
He started banging on the door a lot louder. "Damn you, Eric! What is this?! First you're starving me, now you lock me up! What's next? You're gonna go 'Scream' on me and try to kill me?" He paused, as he heard a faint sound on the other side of the door. "Eric, are you listening? I'm not taking any more of this crap, hear me? *Let*" Bang! "*me*" Bang! "*out!*"
No response.
Jack turned around, and then back with a swing to kick the door. "*Eric!* Dammit! This isn't funny man!" He panted heavily, and kicked the door one last time. "SCREW YOU, ERIC! I'm gonna climb out the window and come to kill you if you don't open this door *right now!*" He took a step back, waiting for the last time.
For one moment, nothing happened. Then Jack heard a key turn in the lock, and the door slowly opened. He got ready to storm into the living room and choke Eric to death - but stopped after setting just one step. His eyes widened with surprise.
"E-Eric... My... what did you do...?"
*****
*****
When Jack stepped into the living room, one look out the window showed him it was already starting to get dark again. He sighed deeply. This seemed like it was going to be another wasted night.
While he approached the couch, he noticed Eric shoving some pans around in the kitchen, and suddenly he felt his stomach roar. He stopped and hesitated for a moment whether he was going to lend his friend a hand or not, but ultimately decided not to - only the thought of seeing Eric wearing nothing but jeans and the same tight shirt he had worn last night, made something grow painfully quick down below.
Stop it, he told himself. Not gonna happen, you know. The whole bed scene - it was an accident. Lay down, soldier.
Suddenly, he heard Eric approaching the living room, and he quickly dove for the couch. He was just in time to hide his arousal behind some pillows, as he casually tried to lie down between them. Eric walked towards Jack, who was panting lightly and reaching for the remote on the table.
"Hey, you awake? Was about time - you slept for twelve hours straight! Are you feeling better now?"
Jack swallowed at the sight of Eric and desperately tried to calm down his breathing. "Eh... yeah, I feel much better, man." He hesitated. "Th-thanks for eh..." He paused, feeling very awkward. "For carrying me to the bedroom and everything..."
Eric raised an eyebrow is his typical way and shrugged. "Well, yeah, no thanks, bud. It's just - you were really wasted and I figured you'd probably feel better if you woke up in a bed instead of hanging on the couch... Right?"
"Right." Jack sighed. "So, are you okay in the kitchen? Should I help you with anything?"
"Nah, you know me - princess of Cooking Land," Eric laughed. "I'll be okay - you just make sure you're ready."
"Ready? For what?" But Eric had already turned around and heading back to the kitchen.
"Hey, I asked you something, princess!" Jack raised his voice.
"Just wait and see," Eric replied with a mysterious smirk, and disappeared into the kitchen. Those four words made Jack throw away the remote and grab an extra pillow - just to make sure...
****
Jack was getting impatient. He had waited for over two hours now, and still 'breakfast' wasn't ready. He had watched some TV, slumbered for a bit on the couch, even did some sit-ups - but still there was no food. Whenever he knocked on the kitchen door and asked if he should help, he only got a mumbling response - but the door wouldn't open.
He decided to try one last time. "Eric, it's six-thirty, maybe we should skip breakfast and go straight to dinner?" No response. "C'mon, I'm starving man! Hurry up, will ya?"
A faint response and some fumbling with plates sounded from behind the door. "Just a minute..."
Jack sighed. "You already said that - like - an hour ago? That's one *plus* fifty-nine minutes, Eric! Get moving!"
Silence.
Jack growled and paced over to the bedroom. He could just as well get himself dressed properly, while Eric could finish ding *whatever* he was doing in there.
He opened his side of the closet and grabbed the first shirt he could find. When he pulled it out, it turned out to be the oldest shirt he owned, all worn-out and in an indefinable greenish color. It was almost too tight when he put it on, but he didn't bother taking out another shirt. This was the best Eric was going to get for get him worked like this. He quickly checked his reflection in the mirror and ran a hand through his hair.
'No *getting ready* tonight, partner,' Jack grunted to himself. 'This is all you'll get from me.'
He turned to the bedroom door and opened it... not. One look at the lock let him know that the key was taken out, and the doorknob didn't cooperate. He banged on the door.
"Hey, Eric - what are you doing? Don't joke around now, buddy. I've had enough of your freakin' weirdness today!"
Quietness all around.
He started banging on the door a lot louder. "Damn you, Eric! What is this?! First you're starving me, now you lock me up! What's next? You're gonna go 'Scream' on me and try to kill me?" He paused, as he heard a faint sound on the other side of the door. "Eric, are you listening? I'm not taking any more of this crap, hear me? *Let*" Bang! "*me*" Bang! "*out!*"
No response.
Jack turned around, and then back with a swing to kick the door. "*Eric!* Dammit! This isn't funny man!" He panted heavily, and kicked the door one last time. "SCREW YOU, ERIC! I'm gonna climb out the window and come to kill you if you don't open this door *right now!*" He took a step back, waiting for the last time.
For one moment, nothing happened. Then Jack heard a key turn in the lock, and the door slowly opened. He got ready to storm into the living room and choke Eric to death - but stopped after setting just one step. His eyes widened with surprise.
"E-Eric... My... what did you do...?"
*****