Yo-yo of DOOM
by northern

Crescendo; glossy; yo-yo

Chris got the yo-yo from some devilish little fan who cornered him when he stepped out of the car to buy lemon-scented wipes for JC. When he got back into the car, he had a weird expression on his face.

"What?" JC asked once he'd gotten one of his wipes out, sniffing it.

Chris turned the yo-yo back and forth in his hands, studying it. It was fire red and glossy. It looked new. He brought it to his face to feel it against his cheeks and lips.

"I wanted one of these when I was seven," he said at last, his voice reverent. He held it up. "It looked exactly like this."

JC stopped wiping his hands and crumpled the tissue. "So you never had a yo-yo?"

Chris looked at him. "Of course I had a yo-yo. Just never one like this." He ran his thumb over the shiny curve of it.

"Do you know how to work it?" JC asked. "Because if you don't, I can show you some neat tricks. I practiced for a year once..." He held out his hand, but Chris closed both of his around his prize.

"Oh no you don't," he said. "You keep those long Chasez fingers away from my yo-yo. This is mine, and only mine!" His voice rose in a crescendo.

JC stared at him, hand still outstretched. Chris's eyes were hard and serious. He pulled his hand back slowly. "I won't touch it," he said slowly. "Don't worry, Chris. It's yours."

Chris gave him one last suspicious glance and curled up against the car door, stroking his yo-yo with one finger. The string wasn't even visible.

JC thought it looked like Chris was going to go straight to his safe when they got home. Jeez! Under his lashes, he looked over at the yo-yo in Chris's hands. Chris's fingers were curled delicately, reverently around it, and it gleamed teasingly at JC. It was a very good piece. Looked to be fine workmanship from where he was sitting. Of course he couldn't determine for sure when Chris wouldn't let him look at it.

And why was that, anyway? Weren't they supposed to share things? JC changed position so he could watch Chris more easily. He was sitting there, engrossed in watching the yo-yo in his hands.

It could just as easily have been JC who had stepped out of the car to buy the wipes. Then he would have gotten the yo-yo. In fact, it was only an accident that Chris had been the one to go, really. JC had been prepared to go himself when Chris suddenly had said, "I need some air. I'll go." Now that he thought about it, wasn't that awfully suspicious?

What if Chris had somehow known what had been waiting for JC outside, and had gone to intercept it for himself? Taken what would have been JC's. Stolen it.

He could have. He must have.

JC's mouth tightened and he studied the way Chris held the yo-yo. If he wouldn't willingly let it go, the little thief, JC would make him. If he... JC tensed and readied himself.

He threw himself suddenly forward and down, burying his teeth in one of Chris's fingers, hard.