It's Good To Be the King
By: Webster

Chris was obviously annoyed when he plopped next to Justin on the couch. "Entertain me."

"Excuse me?"

"Entertain me," he repeated. "Do the chicken dance. Something. I'm bored as hell and you're amusing."

"Do I look like a court jester to you?"

"I wouldn't go around asking that if I were you, Curly."

"So if I'm the jester, what does that make you? The king?"

"Just give me a crown and call me Arthur. Hey, this works perfectly. I've got all my loyal subjects. You can be the jester, Joey can be my wizard, I've got my own Lancelot, and JC's already a --"

"Chris," JC warned from the armchair he was curled up in, "if you say it, I swear I will jab this pencil between your eyes."

"Whatever you say, honey," Chris laughed, batting his eyelashes at JC.

"Dude," Justin said. "You've got a true to life Camelot. Your Lancelot's gettin' it on with your Guenevere."

"You tramp!" Chris wailed, flopping dramatically across Justin's lap with a hand thrown to his forehead. "How could you!"

"Maybe I got tired of finding you bonking one of your loyal subjects on conference room tables," JC said without looking up.

Justin had the good grace to blush. Chris, on the other hand, started cackling. "Oh come on, C. It's not any worse than when I walked in on you and Lancelot on that treadmill. What the hell was up with those slippers?

"You shoulda seen 'em, J," he giggled as he looked up at Justin. "Lance was blowing him, and he was wearing nothing but these pink, fuzzy-tailed bunnies!"

"I like my slippers!" JC pouted.

"I guess Lance did, too."

"Not to sound like I'm attacking you or anything," Justin said, pressing his lips together to keep from laughing, "but how were you wearing only pink bunny slippers."

"I'd been on the treadmill in those tear-away track pants," JC huffed. "My feet got cold, so I put the bunnies on. Lance just never got around to them. Just came in, ripped off my pants, and went at it."

"Whoa. Since when was Lance 'Mr. Jump You In A Heartbeat?"

"It was during a storm," JC shrugged sheepishly. "He says the thunder gets him excited."

"You have got one weird-ass boyfriend."

"Don't feel bad," Chris said. "I've got a weird-ass, hypocrit boyfriend. I've walked in on him getting off to 'Hurts So Bad' and 'Jesse's Girl'."

"It was one time!" Justin cried. "And it wasn't like I did it on purpose. It was just some eighties love song infomercial that happened to be on."

"Okay, I think I've heard about enough of that," JC said, stretching as he unfolded from the chair.

"Good," Chris said with a sharp nod. "You're dismissed."

JC laughed as he walked down the aisle to his bunk. "Like I needed your permission."

Chris groaned as Justin started moving and pushing beneath him. "No," he whined. "He can go. You have to stay."

"So how come the queen got to leave and the jester's still stuck here?"

"Well, I'm afraid there's another reason that Guenevere has turned to Lancelot for affection," Chris sighed dramatically. "The king's attentions are elswhere."

"Really," Justin said, sounding very unimpressed.

"Yeah, man," Chris perked up. "There's this hot little jester that's been 'entertaining' me, if you know what I'm sayin'. You would not believe the ass on this kid. And the things he can do with that mou -- whoa!" Chris was cut off when the jester's hand made its way down the front of his pants.

"That entertaining enough for you?"

"Oh, oh, oh, yeah. That's entertaining all right. Carry on."

"But C's right in the back," Justin said. "You sure?" The last two words were drawn out into a teasing something that Chris was tempted to smack him for.

"Yes, I'm sure, damnit!" Chris squeaked. "By order of the king. So hurry up! Or uh, oh, risk stopping under penalty of death. Or something."

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