fandom: Scrubs isn't mine. Touchstone, Buena Vista and Bill Lawrence own everything. I'm not making any money.
warnings: Cox/JD slashery. Milk monsters. Bwaa.
notes: I really love the silly chemistry that is Cox/JD -- they're snarky, married and so nicely codependent. This fic is again for the fanfic100 challenge on LJ. The prompt is 056: Breakfast.
When JD wakes up that morning to a loudly snoring Dr. Cox in his bed, he spends five minutes freaking out in the bad way (and then ten minutes going hot damn). His loving contemplation of his most recent -- and most surprising as he has only vague but porny flashes of the night before, and ow his head hurts -- bedmate comes to an abrupt end when Dr. Cox opens his eyes and says:
"Why are you making monkey faces at me at six thirty in the morning, Lucinda? No, please do not answer that. By God, Lily, I need at least three cups of coffee before I can handle your high-pitched twittering. Now," Dr. Cox continues, blue eyes rolling (kind of like they did last night when they... JD blushes and realizes he's smiling with pretty much every sweet pearly white showing), "if you'd stop pressing your hairy, bony knee into my bladder, I'd get up before our morning gets a lo-ho-hot more kink-ayh. Whaddya say?"
JD sort of keeps smiling dumbly at the way Dr. Cox's curls are standing up and to the side. Dr. Cox elbows him.
After JD stops whimpering from the blow and poking at the patch of sore skin, he gets up and fishes his boxers from the wild pile on the floor. He pulls his socks off Rowdy's ears ("Bad boy! Have you been here all night, you dirty little mutt?") and liberates his t-shirt from the clutches of Boinky Barbara, whose sweet curves and tight, plastic mouth get a good morning kiss and caress ("Don't worry honey, you're my one and only").
"Good lord, Newbie! You truly are that desperate for company!" Dr. Cox barks, leaning tiredly against the bathroom doorjamb. JD sniffs. "You'd never understand our tender, loving feelings for each other."
Dr. Cox snorts, pushing a nice big hand (nnn, thinks JD) through his now tamed curls. JD bites his lip in a supposedly sexy way, making googly eyes at the blue boxers that are hanging low on Dr. Cox's hips. Dr. Cox screws his face up in a 'bitch, please' grimace in return, and trundles back into the room.
There's an awkward silence (during which JD scratches at his nose three times and clears his throat twice).
Finally Dr. Cox breathes out. He bumps JD with his hip when he goes past to pick up his clothes from the floor and assorted furniture. JD gives another goofy smile at Perry's round butt, then hop-skip-jumps into the kitchenette. "You want some breakfast, Dr. Cox?" He asks, all nonchalance and cool until his voice cracks. He drops three eggs and burns the toast.
Dr. Cox sits down at the kitchen counter and pours Froot Loops into a brightly painted bowl, scowling sullenly. JD finishes wiping the rest of the raw egg from the front of his boxers and shirt (wetwetwetwet sliiiime), then plops down next to Dr. Cox and fills his own bowl with the bright loopy things. They crunch in silence for a few moments. JD feels like this is the best morning after ever. Then he can't take it anymore.
"I've always loved the red ones," JD confesses, milk bottle going 'glug glug' in his hand as he pours more milk into the slush his cereal has become. Dr. Cox drops his spoon into his cartoon cow bowl with a clatter, spraying his already stained (hnrrr, thinks JD, grinning lecherously, and slops milk down his pants) t-shirt with milk.
"Now listen here, Clara, and you better listen good because I am not going to repeat this, but I am going to speak really slowly so that even you can follow, and you probably have some very pink, flowery girl thing instead of a brain." Dr. Cox pauses for breath. JD opens his mouth. "And NO, this is definitely not one of those interactive things where you get to press a big button with a picture of a woof woof doggie on it to make it bark, noooo. This is me," Dr. Cox drops his gaze from JD's, "telling you very slowly and clearly that this thing will never happen again."
JD pouts, brows drawing together. Dr. Cox stares at him for a moment. "I swear to God, Newbie. If you start whining and begging for another taste of my admittedly very hot body, I am never going to hand you back your testicles -- which I will rip off first in a very painful way -- ever, and I mean never ever, again."
They sit there eyeballing each other until JD realizes that he's still pouring milk. He yipes, dropping the bottle and launching backwards from his stool to avoid the milk monster splatter thingy, which is conquering new territory on the countertop with ominous slurps. Unfortunately his feet are tangled together, so he starts falling backwards in extreme slo-mo, and manages to think ow, this will hurt like a motherf-- before he registers Dr. Cox's strong, bulging arm supporting his back and thus very effectively stopping him from crashing to the floor and busting his skull open in the process.
"My he-" JD manages, hands clasped and eyes all a-sparkle, before Dr. Cox heaves him forward. JD goes 'oof' and then 'hmm' because Dr. Cox has manhandled him onto his back right in the milk monster splatter and is kissing him with fiercely stabbing tongue. JD hums his approval as Dr. Cox's fingers push under his shirt to tweak his nipples viciously, then whimpers until he gets some.
And then some.
All. Day. Long.
Yeah.