|5 Times Chris Ended Up With Mitch In His Arms
Author: Animegirl1129 PM
Slash. "The man may be a genius, one of the top ten minds in the country, in fact, but he sleeps like an octopus." Mitch knows from personal experience.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Humor - Words: 2,067 - Reviews: 16 - Favs: 23 - Published: 05-16-08 - Status: Complete - id: 4261219
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
5 Times Chris Knight Ended Up With Mitch Taylor In His Arms
This was totally random. And the plot bunny would not leave me alone. It's pretty silly and by the end it's downright weird, kinda, but, I hope someone reads it nonetheless. Not mine. Enjoy!
Living with Chris Knight is difficult at times, entertaining at others, and downright weird at some points.
The man may be a genius, one of the top ten minds in the country, in fact, but he sleeps like an octopus. And speaking from an unfortunately large amount of personal experience, Mitch knows that if he gets a hold of something - or someone, as the case often is - they do not escape Chris' hold easily.
The first time it happened they were still at Pacific Tech, it was just days after the infamous popcorn incident, and Jordan had just broken up with him. Mitch still wasn't entirely clear as to why - because she was talking too fast for him to fully comprehend, but he caught phrases like 'see other people' and 'I'm so sorry'.
Chris must have known he was upset, could probably tell from across campus, really, because he found Mitch in their room, entering with a comment of 'Uh oh. My Mitch-senses are tingling.'
When Mitch didn't roll his eyes or laugh, or react at all, he flopped down beside him on Mitch's bed. "Jordan?" Chris asked, and Mitch's forlorn expression left no need for a verbal reply. "She's leaving, you know? Going to New York or something. She probably didn't want to get attached and then have to leave you."
Mitch was silent for a long moment, until Chris tugged on his shirt. They ended up laying together, Mitch's head on Chris' chest. Finally, the younger boy finally replied, his eyes meeting Chris's. "You're not going to do that, too, are you?"
"Go to New York? Pfft. No way. Too cold." Mitch glared at the Chris-like reply, clearly wanting an answer to the question he'd actually asked. "Nope, afraid you're stuck with me, sorry."
They fell asleep like that.
The next time Mitch ended up in bed with Chris-the-octopus was about two months after Chris moved out of the dorms to an apartment not 5 minutes away from the campus. It was Mitch's 16th birthday and Chris agreed to join him on the trip back home.
Only, since Mitch's parents were still renting out his room, the two of them were forced to stay in a hotel not far from there. Apparently, the hotel was either rather busy or not equipped to deal with two guests, or something, because they only had one room available and it only had one bed.
Having been roommates for half a year - the close quarters were not the issue. It was more so that Mitch knew that if he got into bed with Chris that he was not leaving until Chris let him. And… maybe he was a little scared of how close they seem to be getting lately.
And then there was his parents.
"You actually hang out with that boy?" His mother scolded him, as if Chris was morally bankrupt and all set to corrupt her son, (which, looking back - corrupt may have been close to the right word, though Mitch was certainly not complaining). "He seems a little… off." She glanced warily at Chris, who was probably trying to explain rocket science to Mitch's dad again. A hopeless project, for sure.
Mitch glared. "Mom, don't. He's my friend." And that was pretty much the first time he's actually used the word 'friend' in a sentence in a conversation with his parents. Ever.
Eventually, though, when the four of them had all spent way too long in an awkward silence in the living room, Chris suggested that it was probably about time they got back to the hotel. Mitch quickly agreed and they said their goodbyes until tomorrow when they'd get to do the whole uncomfortable thing all over again.
Once they were back at the hotel, though, the two friends fell back into a comfortable companionship. They watched a movie on one of the seven channels the room got and munched on take-out from a nearby diner. Chris was laughing and making jokes and Mitch was mocking his newest t-shirt and slippers combination (today it was 'Keep staring, I might do a trick' and fuzzy neon green alligators - which also might have explained his mother's fears…) but, eventually, they had to go to sleep.
Chris, being the self-confident guy that he was, stripped down to his boxers and climbed into bed while Mitch tugged on his pajama pants and matching shirt.
"It's like a hundred degrees and you're going to wear that?" Chris stared, having already kicked the covers to the bottom of the bed.
"Well, yeah." Mitch replied, settling in on the opposite side of the bed.
He lasted about five minutes.
"I told you so." Chris said, as Mitch removed the shirt and rolled up the pants legs, already half asleep.
He felt Chris' arms close around him and then they were both asleep.
Next, it's the start of Mitch's junior year at Pacific Tech and Chris picked Mitch up from school in the black '67 Impala he'd bought with the money he got for his latest project at Darlington. They have nothing to do for the weekend, so Chris drove them out to a drive in movie theater and see a double feature of 'The Goonies' and 'Top Gun' which is an odd combination, but neither was complaining.
They spent the drive back to Chris' apartment debating the benefits of Mitch moving off campus over Christmas break.
Ultimately, they decided that Mitch would move in come the end of term, and when Mitch graduated, he'd come work with Chris. They both knew they worked better as a pair than they did by themselves.
The engine in the Impala died halfway home, and, as a result, they were forced to camp out in the car for the night. Nothing was open this late, anyway.
"Backseat?" Chris asked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
Mitch smacked him, with an eye roll added in as well, as he climbs over the front seats after Chris. "What, do you have beauticians, oh - sorry student beauticians, stashed in the trunk?" He teased.
Chris pretended to consider the idea. "Hmm… Nah. They'd suffocate back there with all the product they use. Besides, why have them when you're here?" The allotted space made it difficult for them to have any semblance of personal space, so Chris' arms settled around his shoulders and Mitch's head was pressed against Chris' chest. All in all, they were both really quite comfortable.
Mitch was already asleep when Chris pulled him a little closer and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.
Moving day came quickly enough, and they'd just finished unloading the last of the boxes from the Impala.
It was late by then, so the two of them collapsed onto the couch, eating pizza, relaxing after a hard days work. But, eventually, they decided; if they were going to get all of Mitch's stuff unpacked in the morning, they'd better go to bed.
"I can't find my sheets." Mitch said, leaning against the doorframe that led to Chris' room. "I've checked like twelve boxes and I don't see them anywhere."
Chris stepped out of the bathroom, a toothbrush in his mouth. "I'll help you look in a minute." He said, disappearing again, only to reappear a moment later in nothing but his boxers and slippers. "I think I packed those - so they very well might be in the box you had labeled as schoolbooks. "
"Why would they be in that box?" Mitch inquired, confused.
"Well, why not?" The elder retorted, searching through the aforementioned box and finding nothing. "My logical reasoning aside, they're not there. My sheets won't fit your bed." Chris's queen sized bed dominated most of the room, but there had been no convincing Chris of this when he'd bought the thing. It dwarfed Mitch's single bed. "You could always just sleep with me."
Resigned to his fate, Mitch followed him back into the room, running square into Chris when he stopped halfway to the bed. "What are you doing?"
Chris still didn't move. "Thinking."
"You can't move and think? Jeez, how do you function at work?" Mitch laughed, attempting to move around him.
Chris' arm shot out and stopped him. "You could just… you know, move in here."
Mitch was confused again. "But, I did move in. That's why there are approximately 19 boxes currently scattered about your house."
"No, I mean - in here with me. We could just share the room. Indefinitely." Chris, in a very uncharacteristic form, seemed almost wary of Mitch's reaction.
A moment of tense silence passed and then - "Yeah, that's a good idea."
Mitch was finding he had an easier time sleeping when trapped in Chris' hold anyway.
Their relationship, now in this odd state of… whatever it was, still hadn't progressed very far. But, Chris was okay with that. It had only been a few weeks.
However, Mitch's 18th birthday came around and Chris wanted to celebrate.
They rent a bunch of movies and set up for a Friday night in - which is what most of their nights were anyway. Chris bought a cake and present with a name most people probably couldn't even pronounce.
He also insisted that Mitch drink at least one beer - a rite of passage, he'd said, of turning 18. It wasn't exactly legal anymore - but Mitch was hardly the only underage person drinking on campus. So, Chris went out and bought the alcohol and the two of them settled down for the night, watching Evil Dead.
As it turned out, the alcohol knocked Mitch out before he'd finished even half the can, or half the movie, for that matter - causing Chris to lose all hopes of having a suitable drinking buddy. And Chris had dragged Mitch to their room. With some degree of effort (as Mitch had definitely long since hit that growth spurt Lazlo had predicted) he managed to maneuver the dead weight in his arms under the covers. In the morning, Mitch would probably have a headache and be pissed that he didn't get to brush his teeth or change his clothes, but Chris would deal with that when called for.
The morning came - and as predicted, even half a can of beer was enough to give Mitch one hell of a hangover. He woke around noon, much later than the usual seven a.m. alarm clock would have allowed. Chris had kindly not set it.
"You okay?" Chris asked, in a quiet voice. He gestured to the aspirin and water on the bedside table. "You'll feel better, promise."
Mitch blinked up at him, still groggy, but obliged his request. "I'm never drinking again." He decided. "Ever."
Chris laughed, flopping down beside the younger boy. "Your first hangover. What else could you ask for on your 18th birthday?"
"A root canal would probably be slightly more enjoyable." Mitch deadpanned, although the medication was beginning to help. "Although, I'm thinking there's been something you've wanted to do lately, probably for a while."
"Oh?" Chris asked, a smile on his face as he propped himself up on one elbow, eyes on Mitch. "And what might that be?"
Mitch rolled to his side, ignoring the fading pain in his head. He pressed closer, their chests together, as he leaned in, pressing his lips to a grinning Chris'. It was just a quick kiss, but long awaited and well worth it.
Chris' arms wrapped around him, as they always did. "It's about time." He smiled.
Okay, so perhaps being trapped in the vice grip that trademarked Chris' sleeping habits wasn't quite as bad as Mitch often claimed it was. In fact, after a while, he learned it was the only way he could sleep at all.