AN: A nice short little story. Jack/Rai, of course. I know everyone's expecting a third bit to In And Out (which was supposed to be a one-shot, but whatever. P), but right now I'm out of ideas for that, so I'll be doing a lot of these fake-drabbles-shorty-ficlet-things instead.
Thirsty. It was the thirst that woke him up. It awoke him from a long, unreal dream - a rather out-of-character experience featuring none other than that blasted Xiaolin Dragon of the Wind, Raimundo Pedrosa. He had awoken with a start, shocked, in a sweat, but most of all - craving an orange soda.
And now, as he stood in front of the open refrigerator door, can of soda in his hand, he was ready to ponder and analyze the contents of his dream - or at least quench his thirst.
But before he could take a sip or even begin to think up an explanation as to why his subconscious had thought up such a compromising situation starring Raimundo, a loud crashing noise reverberating from the next room startled him. He jumped, orange soda cascading down his hand. He swore violently, then cast his glance the direction from whence the sound had come. Only silence.
"Who...who's there?" He called out, his voice shaking with fright.
No reply. Fueled by a sudden spurt of bravery, or perhaps it was just stupidity, he took a few steps towards the next room and called out again, "Anyone there?"
Met again with the quietness of his mansion, he sighed deeply with relief. It must have been his imagination, or at the very least, one of those bumbling robots. Satisfied with his discovery of...well, nothing, he turned around, lifting the soda to his mouth to drink as he did.
"Aaaaaaaaaack!" BUMP! Suddenly, he found himself face to face with a demon of some sort, alone in the dark of the night. He squealed again, struggling to escape the monstrous arms that attempted to seize him.
"Woah, woah, woah!" The demon said, with an oddly familiar accent, "Calm down, Spicer! It's just me!" A light flickered on suddenly, and Jack could finally name his demon: none other than that Dragon of the Wind himself, Raimundo..
The monk had him pressed up against the wall, one hand on the light switch, the other resting on his arm, frozen in the act of attempting to stop Jack's thrashing. The can of orange soda lay at their feet, fizzing its contents out upon Jack's new bunny slippers.
He was reminded vaguely of his dream.
Catching themselves in an awkward position, Raimundo pulled away from the boy while Jack turned his head shyly. He was sure a blush was forming on his cheeks, and the fact that Raimundo would be sure to see it against his pale white skin was not helping matters. But when he finally gained the courage to meet the other boy's eyes, he found the Xiaolin Dragon was blushing as well.
"What...are you doing here?" Jack questioned, hoping for some grain of logic in all of this.
"I...well, i just wanted to...um..." The other boy stuttered, nervously. Jack raised an eyebrow at his lack of words. "I...um...well..."
"Spit it out, Xiaolin Punk!" Jack shouted, a tad harsher than he had intended. It was a rather tense situation, after all.
Raimundo stared at him, and Jack saw the frantic look of utter confusion that reflected his own feelings at the moment. Raimundo's eyes searched his; for what, exactly, Jack did not know, but he did know that whatever it was, he did not want Raimundo to find it. He shifted his eyes to the ground.
"...Nevermind," Raimundo said, at long last. There was a second of stillness, then Jack felt a slight brush at his shoulder as the monk pushed past him. There was a clutter of sound in the next room...then silence once again.
Jack stared down at the fallen can of soda, then reached and picked it up. Empty.
"Damn," He whispered. He was really thirsty.