Disclaimer: I don't own Xiaolin Showdown or any of its characters, nor do I make any profit or attempt to with the writing of this or any of my other pieces.
Warnings: Language, sexual implications, homosexuality, etc.
"Are you ready, Spicer?" Chase inquired of his consort.
"Oh, yeah," Jack replied eagerly. "I've been waiting all month for this."
"Then, by all means," the everlord allowed, "start whenever you wish."
"You snore," the goth immediately said. "It sounds like a friggin' chainsaw, and it keeps me up at night."
"Your feet reek," Chase shot back immediately. "With senses as acute as mine, they make me wish to vomit."
"That'd be the boots," Jack allowed. "You have the same damn thing served for dinner every night, and I'm sick of it. Vary it up every once in awhile."
"You spend far too much time in your laboratory," the older man complained. "I hardly see you outside of dinner and at night. It bothers me that you're my lover, and I can't even see you any longer than a handful of hours every day."
"Fair enough. You're a smug bastard and it's pissing me off," the albino informed. "Your personality is way overbearing and I love you for it, but seriously: tone it down every once in a blue moon."
"I shall try," Chase conceded. "While we're on the subject of personalities, the opposite annoys me of you. You are almost too submissive, and I should like you to assert yourself to me more often."
"Your hair is mocking me," Jack informed. "It's gorgeous and soft as hell, and you won't fucking share your shampoo with me."
"Your skin is mocking me," the warlord countered. "I'll keep hoarding the shampoo so long as you hoard that exfoliating lotion of yours."
"I think we can compromise," the goth said. "I was thinking of getting my tongue pierced; y'know, to increase your sexual pleasure during blowjobs."
"And force me to endure a consort with a self-inflicted lisp?" Chase demanded. "I think not. Besides, I experience more than enough sexual pleasure from your mouth even without a tongue-stud."
"Well, thank you, then," Jack smiled.
"I was thinking of changing my hair," the man admitted. "I've had it in this style for centuries, and thought it could do with a change."
"Cut off any more than four inches or dye it a different color, and I'm not fucking you until it goes back to the way it was," the goth said, brutally honest. "I'm fine with styling it a little different, but you're hot sex on toast, already: you don't need to change it too much, especially if that change involves you becoming a blond or getting a buzz-cut."
"You don't dress trampy enough," Chase haughtily declared. "I've little complaint of your preferred gothic style, but would it kill you to wear tight pants and fishnet shirts for me every once in awhile so that I may admire my consort's delicious body?"
Jack laughed. "And most guys would be complaining about the opposite," he mused, "but sure, I can probably do that. Stop being so damn perfect all the time," the albino ordered. "You're amazing at every little thing you do and it's making me feel like inadequate crap. At the very least, try some stuff you suck at around me: I promise I won't laugh at you, and it'll make me feel better about myself."
"We'll see," the everlord allowed. "You always leave the sink a mess when you shave your face; I'd appreciate it if you at least made some effort of cleaning it up when you're finished."
"I could say the same about you and the toilet," the albino countered, eyebrow raised accusingly. "You always leave the damn seat up; always. I normally wouldn't have a problem with it, but you've been doing it for at least ten years and it bothers me."
"I'll put the seat down if you wash the sink when you're finished with it," Chase compromised.
"Fine," his lover agreed.
"That said, I can't help but notice you've been letting yourself go recently, and I don't like it. Aside from the fact that it's not healthy, you're starting to get a belly on you and you've lost a good deal of flexibility, which is quite the problem considering the sort of things I frequently find myself wanting to do to you."
"I've been upset," Jack said in his defense. "Ever since that Showdown for the Pink Hippo, I've been paranoid that you're gonna dump me."
"Why?" Chase inquired, honestly floored. "Why would you think I had any intention of getting rid of you after I've already granted you immortal life?"
"You saw Omi!" the goth exclaimed. "He grew up hot! And you were always so focused on him before we hooked up that I couldn't help but think I was constantly a couple of days away from getting bumped down to secondary consort. I was feeling really stressed out and nervous, so I took some solace in two of my BFFs: Ben and Jerry."
The warlord pulled his lover closer and kissed him; hard and hot in such a way that left the young man feeling just a bit dizzy and breathless when he pulled away. "I've no sexual interest in Omi," he immediately soothed. "My only interest in him is as an ally: he would make a fine warrior to add to my ranks, not a fine body to add to my bed. You've nothing to worry about in terms of him."
Jack smiled at that, appeased. "Okay," he allowed, "so long as you don't start making googly eyes at him any time soon, I'll lay off the sweets for awhile and start doing some crunches."
Chase kissed him again. "Thank you, Spicer," he said honestly.
"That's something I've got a problem with, actually," the goth asserted. "You hardly ever kiss me. You're good at it and you should do it more."
"If you want me to kiss you more often," the older man bargained, "then, you must cuddle with me more often. I don't care how much work you have waiting for you in the lab, you will snuggle with me."
Jack sniggered. "The Almighty Chase Young demands snuggles of his consort!" he declared in mock-drama. "I can probably snuggle you some more, though. My main aversion to it is that I was never very big on touching, but I'm getting over that, so sure, we can snuggle. You need to find a way to wake up in the morning that doesn't wake me up, too. I am not a morning person, yet I've been up every morning for the past couple of months at 5:00 AM because of your damn alarm clock."
"I'm sure I can figure something else out," the everlord conceded, "but you simply must stop eating in the bed. You leave crumbs all over the mattress, and I can hardly sleep at all."
"Fine, fair enough. We never go out," Jack complained. "I really don't care where the hell we would go: I'd seriously be fine if we just went to a playground and sat on the swings while creeping little kids and their soccer moms out. I just need to get out of the citadel soon; I'm getting cabin fever."
"I'd gladly take you out to places much nicer than children's playgrounds," Chase said, "on the proviso that you don't embarrass me, of course. The last time we went anywhere as a couple, you made infantile puns the whole night, and I couldn't enjoy myself because I kept having to explain your positive qualities to others lest I come off as a joke, myself."
"I've changed, though!" the youth protested. "I know how to not embarrass you in public, now, so we actually can go into public!"
"Very well," the everlord allowed. "There's a play I've been meaning to see, anyways; we can go and see it together, next week."
"Awesome!" Jack declared. "My next order of business: stop picking your nose. Don't try to deny it, I've seen you do it and it's gross, especially when you stick it under a chair. I die a little inside knowing I've sucked on the same fingers that have frequent contact with boogers."
Chase honestly blushed. "I didn't think you knew," he muttered quietly, ashamed of his embarrassing habit, "but I always wash my hands, I swear! I doubt the same can be said of you and your tendency to pick corn out of your teeth at the dinner table!"
"Oh, yeah?" Jack countered, frowning. "Well, you have gross cabbage farts and you always torture me by holding my head under the covers!"
"Well, I'm certainly not the one who consistently scratches myself and doesn't seem to care who sees!" the warlord sneered.
"Yuh…well…I…At least I don't have a mole on my ass!"
An offended gasp. "Ingrown toenaisl!" Chase accused.
"Cunting llama sucker!"
"Overrated, dick-sucking cockroach!"
Chase growled. "Shit-sniffing, rectal-sucking-"
Jack butted in with, "-boil-nibbling, ass-brained-"
"WARTHEAD!" the both of them snarled at each other in unison.
For a moment, they simply stared at one another, scowling darkly and panting to catch their breath.
Then Jack smiled. "I feel better," he said. "I'm glad we did this."
Chase snorted. "I feel better, as well," he admitted. "You and I are both much too volatile and spiteful as people to last very long together without doing this monthly."
"Can you imagine if we just internalized all the stuff that annoys us or that we hate about each other?" the goth chuckled. "It'd tear us apart!"
The everlord leaned in to kiss his consort, pressing his mouth to full, white lips with obvious affection. The albino kissed back with equal fervor, slipping his tongue into his lover's mouth to play with the one trying to invade his own. They made love with their mouths for a solid two or three minutes.
Jack was the first to pull away. "I love you, Chase," he sincerely confessed.
The warlord rested his forehead against his consort's, replying with the standard, "I know, Spicer."
The goth knew by now what Chase meant when he said that and so grinned in response. "Same time next month?" he inquired.
"It's a date," his lover promised.
A/N: Random idea that popped into my head; I figure Chase and Jack might want to do something like this every so often so as to avoid letting annoyances and overall bad feelings get in the way of their relationship and/or wanting to sex each other. ;P
Anyways, thanks for reading, and I hope you liked the fic! :D