Cock-And-Bull Story
(ATF)

by Cyc

It was a flicking noise, intermittent and deliberately loud but definitely a papery kind of noise. Someone was sitting at the foot of the bed flicking through a magazine of some sort. He could feel the heat of their body through the covers. Experimentally, he kicked out at the warm lump by his foot.

"Good morning to you too," Ezra drawled.

Another papery flick sounded.

"I have coffee and aspirin here if you'd care to surface."

Another flick.

Wriggling carefully around in bed to slowly lean up on one elbow, Chris squinted open one eye long enough to safely receive a mug of lukewarm coffee and four aspirins. The coffee was almost as bitter as the aspirins. "What's this, cockroach flavour?" he grouched, keeping his eyes shut against both his hangover and Ezra's answering glare.

"Yes, it's 'Café au Cockroach' a new blend I'm trying out," came the dry response. "You may find it a little earthy but that's only because of the mud I added to suit your particular palate."

Flick.

Flick.

"What you lookin' at?"

"Why don't you open your eyes and find out?"

With a sigh, Chris finally squinted open both eyes to get a slightly blurry image of Ezra sitting at the foot of the mattress with his legs crossed beneath him. He was barefoot, wearing only a faded green t-shirt and jeans. "What's wrong with you?" Chris asked low.

Flick.

"Nothing's wrong with me." Ezra didn't look up from the magazine spread open on the mattress before him. "I'm not the one with the hangover and the dubious memory."

"I--" Chris began when his vision suddenly slipped into perfect focus and he clearly saw the magazine pictures that so held Ezra's attention. He blinked and looked again.

Flick.

"I?" Ezra prompted coolly, still looking down at the pictures.

Scowling at the magazine, Chris sat up. "Why'd you spend money on that crap?"

"Actually, it's not crap. The attributes of the gentlemen displayed are guaranteed life size. See." Ezra picked up the magazine to show Chris the front. He'd barely read the title and the 'guarantee' before Ezra returned it to the mattress. "It has quite a few interesting anthropological articles."

Flick.

"Ezra," Chris growled, "it's about big cocks. It's called "Inch By Inch" for fucksake."

Ezra nodded. "While that is all true, I do find certain aspects quite fascinating. The fact that you bought it being the most intriguing."

"What? I didn't--"

"Is this or is this not your signature?" Ezra asked, pulling a credit card receipt out of the back of the magazine and handing it over.

Chris stared at his own name scrawled in his own hand then squinted at the pale, purple print above it. "Three-twenty-three in the morning? I don't even know where 'Sizzling Sid's' is."

Flick.

"Don't look at me." Ezra shrugged. "We were all at the bar when you wandered off just before midnight never to return. You'll be glad to hear that you are the only participant in Buck's 'experiment' who managed to get home under his own steam. However, I fear you'll be referred to as 'Cinderella' for the foreseeable future."

Flick.

"Great." Chris scowled back down at the receipt. He was wondering just what the hell Buck had put in last night's cocktails when his eye caught the fact that there was not one, but two items on his receipt. For a long moment, his vision blurred around everything except the ominous letters that read, 'Twelve-inch t... $169.99'. His mouth went dry and his mind was abruptly invaded by the vision of a brightly lit, high-class sex store with very friendly staff. "Fuck."

"My thoughts exactly," Ezra said without looking up from the magazine. "I'm sure this gentlemen must live in fear of lapsing into unconsciousness."

"Yeah right," Chris said as he moved off the bed before surreptitiously kicking through last night's clothes on his way to the bathroom.

Nothing.

Hell.

The twelve-inch t-thing had to be somewhere. Hopefully Ezra hadn't found it yet. $169.99? Fuck.

After briefly checking the bathroom, Chris moved through into the kitchen and put on another pot of coffee before turning the sitting room upside down. No luck. The only place the thing could be was the bedroom... where Ezra was merrily 'flicking' away. Shit.

Returning to the bedroom, Chris made a big show out of slurping the fresh mug of coffee he'd poured for himself while scouting around for clean clothes. It took Ezra a full thirty seconds to rise glowering to the bait and leave the room to get himself some hot coffee.

Chris wasted no time in pulling the room apart. He'd been through every closet and drawer and was just getting up from looking under the bed when he saw Ezra standing in the doorway, sipping coffee and watching him amusedly.

"I couldn't find it either," Ezra admitted with a smirk. "It does beg a question or two, doesn't it? What was your mysterious second purchase? Where is it now? And what happened to the measuring tape that was attached to the back cover of the magazine?" He grinned wickedly.

Chris scowled. "The only question on my mind is where to bury Buck's body."

THE END

On to: Truth In The Tale

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