Chris was hiding beneath the staircase. He didn't even *think* that modern LA houses would have doors beneath the stairs, but he was a lucky bastard 'cause this one did.
He remembered hiding under one of these as a kid; falling asleep, and his mother searching for him frantically, calling out his name in a way that still made him come out from wherever he was so as not to worry her.
This time, though, the voice calling out his name wasn't frantic at all. Nope, this one was more pissed, definitely angry, and threatening his manly parts in all sort of nasty ways.
He didn't really see that as incentive to come out of the stairs.
Thirty minutes later, he was up to two hundred and fifty bottles of beer on the wall, as well as the occasional Jose Cuervo and that Russian vodka Lance brought back with him with a name he couldn't pronounce, when the door swung open and a smug-looking Justin pinned him down with his eyes.
"Chris," he said slowly. "This is the first vacation I have had in over eight months. I am home, resting in my house, enjoying the company of my asshole of a best friend, who deemed it appropriate to fill my sock drawer with lime jello. And then said best friend hid for a very long time, thereby pissing me off mightily. One question: why?"
Chris shrugged. "You short-sheeted by bed. Lame, but effective. It deserved a turn."
Justin's eyes bugged out. "Chris, you fucker! That was three fucking years ago! What the hell?"
He only grinned mischievously in response. "Turnabout is fair play, Mr. International Superstar."
Justin threw his hands in the air, turned, and made for the kitchen. "I swear to fucking god, I am kicking your ass after Leno."
"You kiss your momma with that mouth?" Chris called after him, trying to pull himself up from the floor.
"My momma taught me how to use curse words!" Justin shouted back.
"I always knew I liked Momma Timberlake," Chris muttered as he worked to heft himself up from the box he was sitting on. It didn't work. He was stuck.
Justin came back after not hearing Chris follow him, and when he saw Chris caught in the paper box, he doubled over laughing. He helped Chris out only after he threatened to reorganize his cd collection, which promptly shut up Justin's laughter.
Second verse:
What are they which are by two?
Two testaments, the old and new,
We do acknowledge to be true.
words © SA. characters, show, and people not mine. no infringement is intended.