Blame
by Shine

"Fuck," AJ announced, looking martyred, and made an impressive fall face-first into the mattress. He landed on his nose, and Kevin winced, taking off his shirt, and sitting on the other bed to remove his shoes. Prone, AJ moaned quietly, knees overextended beyond the edge of the bed, and with a grunt of effort, turned his head to the side. He glared at Kevin, and Kevin gazed serenely back at him, and undid his belt.

"I hate you," AJ told him. Kevin grinned.

"You suck," AJ added, and closed his eyes. "I think I'm dying."

Kevin rolled his eyes and stood up to shuck his pants. "Something wrong?" he asked mildly.

"This is your fault," AJ mumbled, turning his face back into the pillow. "Somehow, some way, this is all your fault."

Kevin was going to start laughing any second. "Did I tell you to go out last night?" He debated with himself, peered into his carryall, and decided he had enough clean underwear to change his boxers. AJ muttered something Kevin couldn't make out, and Kevin dropped his shorts and bit the inside of his cheek. Hard.

"Sorry, I couldn't hear that," he said when he was fairly sure the tremble of his voice wouldn't give him away.

"No," AJ growled, louder, sounding irritated. Kevin nodded and pulled the fresh boxers on, then went around to the bed and pulled down the covers.

"Did I tell you to stay out until five in the morning?" He slid into bed, and closed his eyes at the pleasure of clean cool sheets on his skin. AJ was still face-down, and Kevin propped his head on one hand and watched him with amusement.

"No," AJ said, and he might have been gritting his teeth. Kevin couldn't tell, through the coverlet.

"Did I tell you to go home with those three soccer players--"

"Jesus FUCK, Kevin, give it a rest, will you?" AJ yelled, flipping over and leveling a dagger-edged scowl at Kevin. "Okay, okay, so it's my fucking fault I forgot we had rehearsal today. Just. Leave me alone." He fumbled for a pillow and dropped it on his face. One foot kicked irritably.

Kevin smirked. AJ couldn't see it, so he felt safe in doing so. "But remember--I told you before you went out, AJ. We had an all-day rehearsal, and we had to be at the studio at eight." He kept his tone light and baffled and innocent. "Don't you remember?"

AJ was silent for a very long time. Kevin was beginning to think he'd smothered himself with his pillow, but decided that AJ would never, ever die with that little fanfare. "Somehow this is all your fault," AJ repeated, and threw the pillow aside. He dragged himself upright and groaned. "God. Oh my god. I'm dying. Never do this to me again."

"But I'm confused," and if there was anything more fun than AJ-baiting, Kevin hadn't found it yet, "AJ, you're acting like you danced for four hours at a club and had sex with three women's soccer players, got an hour of sleep, and then had a twelve-hour rehearsal. Stop being such a wuss. It's not like any of that really happened, after all. You told me you'd be back early, and we both know that you never, ever break your word."

AJ groaned and kicked his feet vaguely. One sneaker flew across the room and hit the wall. The other dangled from his toe, and AJ kicked again but couldn't seem to get rid of it. "I'm dying," he muttered, and stumbled upright. Kevin had to bite the inside of his cheek again while AJ undressed slowly and audibly.

"You should think of new material," he told AJ, and AJ sighed.

"Can't you feel even a little sorry for me?" he asked plaintively, and Kevin grinned.

"Nope," he said cheerfully, and flipped back the covers. "Come on, moron," he added, and AJ crawled into bed, pushing one leg between Kevin's thighs and dropping his head on Kevin's shoulder. "Go to sleep," Kevin told him, and AJ closed his eyes.

"Your fault," he murmured, and Kevin smiled and moved his arm, drawing AJ closer and settling down.

"Sure it is," he whispered, and couldn't help himself; the laughter finally came, quiet but free.

AJ didn't hear it. AJ was already asleep.

Fin