SUE: You Go, Glenn Coco {Greg}

[Demetrius Wolfbane]

Demetrius felt like shit, something that actually wasn't a common occurrence for the winged boy. He was spared the awful (he assumed) but beautiful human experience- pain. Something that he still, after fifteen years, wasn't sure if it was good or bad. Either way it meant that Demetrius didn't care when he was hurt, or if he was bleeding. Things like that were just nuisances. What he did care about however was getting sick. It was never pleasant, as he was currently being reminded.

His head was heavy, so heavy that he couldn't be bothered to lift it off of the couch cushions. Why was he in the main room anyway? Glazed green eyes stared out from under his untidy hair, barely focused on the TV in front of him. Right. He was watching a movie. Since his roommates were out doing god only knows what (probably at class, since it was a school day but Demetrius didn't yet know that classes had been out for some time already). His stomach turned suddenly, halting his thought process as the small boy was forced to vacate the couch in the utmost haste. He barely made it to the toilet before emptying his stomach of the water and bile that filled it. Honestly, food wasn't on the top of his 'to do' list. Nor was it even remotely on it. Throwing up all morning, all day, tended to remove food from the menu.

Trudging back to the couch with a weakened grunt, his wings trailed on the ground behind him. He was too lazy to keep them in and there was too much strain anyway. Slowly climbing back onto the couch, hair damp with sweat he returned to his nest of pillows and blankets from his room. The boy picked up the remote and lazily clicked buttons until a movie played. Mean Girls. Groaning slightly (which quickly turned into a fit of coughing) he sunk further into the nest, too tired to try and change it to something else. So he'd simply resigned himself to watching the movie. Demetrius didn't even notice when the door opened, too busy trying to figure out if the movie was actually starting or if this was some kind of previews going on.

((Previews. Just so Greg doesn't miss anything <3
He's got a fever, throwing up, and sinus congestion plus some coughing.))

[Greg Mackenzie]

Greg had only been so sick he missed school once his entire life – it was back in eighth grade, when he contracted mono from kissing Laura Thomson (correction: letting Laura Thomson kiss him) during a whacked out game of Truth-or-Dare. He was out for a week, with his head pounding, his body aching, and his throat extremely sore. Needless to say he vowed never to kiss another girl again from that day forward.

Unfortunately for him, this time around, he couldn’t blame his sickness on the opposite gender. Granted it wasn’t as bad as it was back then, but what he was feeling was still pretty horrible, enough to make an executive decision not to show up to class today. (Which was a hard decision, since it was the last day of Mr. Maxwell, his hot substitute teacher, and Greg swore he made quite the connection with the slightly older man. He’d honestly go had his stomach not been so iffy the past twelve hours that he couldn’t risk being ten feet away from the bathroom at all times).

He’d stay in bed, but he needed some soup in him and without his mom to take care of him, he needed to get his shit together. Independence wasn’t as amazing as the movies played it out to be truly. Walking out in his very patriotic Canada onesie, he was a little surprised to see Mean Girls playing on their communal TV. Even more when he saw who was watching it – Mr. Gay Grouch Demetrius. Who looked just as battered by the sickness as Greg himself.

“You look well,” chuckled Greg as he started preparing some chicken soup and tea, “Want some? I read that chamomile works great for bad stomachs.” No need to be that snarky today. He just couldn’t spare the energy sadly.

[Demetrius Wolfbane]

Unlike Greg, Demetrius was a frequent member of the "I'm not going to class" club. Granted he was usually selective and just ditched out classes he hated, but that was normal right? Not like he couldn't do the work anyway. Well, except for maybe math. A fit of coughs racked the young male's body and he curled up deeper into the blankets, trying muffle his sounds of sickness. He hadn't seen Greg (who apparently was sick like him if the rushing to the bathroom was anything to go by) in awhile and if the other was asleep he didn't really want to be the one to ruin the sleep. Even with his tough exterior, Demetrius could still take pity on those sick, especially when he could directly relate.

In any case, he wasn't really surprised when Greg's door opened as he'd heard it many times that day. So he kept his green eyes focused on the TV, trying to ignore the movement of his stomach and the way his tongue was sticking to the roof of his mouth. It'd be easier to pretend the other didn't exist, in hopes that Greg would go and throw up so the bathroom would be clear for him. However, when he caught sight of the footsie pajamas a snort bubbled out of his mouth. The sound mixed with a cough that wanted to come out at the same time. "What the hell're you wearing?" He asked softly, his voice hoarse from all the vomiting.

Turning his attention away from the screen, Demetrius watched as Greg walked to the small kitchen area, his wings flapping gently to help him pull himself out of the nest. He was about to reject the offer Greg was giving him, but his stomach growled in protest. But, no. He still wasn't going to eat. Yet... "The tea..." His voice was just as soft as he ducked his head. "Just don't poison it." He mumbled weakly, wanting to make sure Greg didn't think of him as weak or something. God forbid someone see him like this and take advantage of it.

As the movie started the winged boy turned around to huddle back in his blankets, shivering slightly as a sudden chill ran across his body. It was cold, it was hot. All he wanted was for it to stop. A small part of Demetrius mumbled something about wanting to go home. Which was perfectly reasonable. He was in a strange place, sick, with a strange power, strange people. He had no nearby family, no one he trusted except one person, and he was just. so. tired. Demetrius pulled the blanket tighter around himself and stared purposefully at the TV.

"You... Can stay out here..." His voice was perhaps at the softest it had been since he arrived -rather rudely- at Greg's doorstep and he sounded like how he felt inside; a sick boy who was too tired to keep up the walls. Probably even sounded younger than he was and a touch desperate (though this might have been in his head). Demetrius cringed slightly at the words exiting his mouth but he had no time left to ponder it as the the scent of chicken wafted towards him. In a flash the exhausted and feverish boy was out of his nest and running to the bathroom to empty his already empty stomach.

[Greg Mackenzie]

Greg didn’t really care that much when he first learned that dormitories didn’t have stoves and ovens; he didn’t really cook much anyway, and he’d rather not accidentally burn down the place. It only began bothering him when he started grocery shopping. Sometimes he’d see things on TV that he’d want to cook, buy the stuff during his trip to town, only to realize that he couldn’t make them because all they had was a microwave and a small toaster.

Chicken soup would’ve been better if he cooked it fresh, but he had to settle for those instant ones. What a bummer really. “Tea it is,” he said with a grin. He was suffering, but at least it wasn’t as horrible as the other boy. He grabbed the loaf he bought from the local bakery the other day, as well as a few cheese slices, and began making grilled cheese. Or as close to grilled cheese as he could with the toaster and the microwave anyway. “It’s Canada’s national costume. Don’t you Americans have one?”

Three minutes later, his tea, noodles and sandwich were done. He placed them on the couch, handed one to the boy, then huddled close, huge smirk on his face. “Don’t think you’re in a position to make me go even if you wanted to anyway Hawkman,” said the boy as he took a bite out of his sandwich. As the movie played, Greg quickly swallowed his food and said “‘One time she punched me in the face…it was awesome.’”, at the same time, without missing a beat.

“You’ve seen this movie before, right?”

[Demetrius Wolfbane]

Demetrius didn't know how to cook nor did he have any intentions of learning. Granted he might be able to make simple things- like omelets or anything that gets cooked in a microwave. So when he showed up and found out all he’d have to deal with was a toaster and a microwave… He was pretty happy. Well relatively happy, considering that he was still mildly unhappy with discovering he'd been given freedom. But not the ability to fly.

In any case, none of that really mattered to the boy anymore. Instead he was more focused on keeping food down and trying not to look like a complete ass in front of people he was attempting to befriend. When Greg commented on the "American costume", Demetrius snorted softly and weakly raised his hand to give Greg the one finger salute. "American costume... Ain't it pretty?" The smirk on his face was probably visible in his tone, but Dem couldn't say he actually cared. Caring would involve him having the energy to do much more than his rush to the bathroom.

Demetrius came back to his trip from the bathroom looking more worn out, but slightly more alert. He pushed his dark, soaked locks from his eyes as he walked back to the couch. His hair, cold and wet to the touch from when he ran water over his head, was sticking to the couch once again. Green eyes glanced up as Greg flopped down beside him, tilting his head to cough gently. "I could bite you, then you'd go." He explained with a small smirk, not caring when the older boy huddled up to his side. "But then... You'll probably like it." Demetrius smirked more and slowly flapped his wing free of the telepath before laying it over Greg, trying to cover the other's face with the feathers.

"And no. I've never seen this movie. Though if you like it... It's probably shit."

[Greg Mackenzie]

“Classy Dem. Real classy.” Not that Greg wouldn’t have done the same thing had the situation been reversed. If only the other boy wasn’t as sickly, it would’ve had a chance to be a tad bit scathing. Unfortunately whatever it was that hit Dem made him more like a sick puppy than a fierce hyena. Not that Dem could ever be a fierce anything. But the boy’s sick enough, no need to rain on whatever little sunshine he had left.

The telepath simply chuckled when Dem threatened to bite him. “I still don’t know how you got boys back in your place Demetrius. I mean, if I wasn’t a telepath, I would never have guessed in a million years that you’re flirting with me right now.” Never mind the slight teasing, the non-stiffening when he curled up close to the winged boy, or the wing that he’s currently wrapped in.

He simply pushed the wing down just slightly – enough to let him see the screen, but not fully remove him from its grasp; it’s oddly warm after all – and continued sipping his tea, holding his mug with both hands and rubbing his nose on Dem’s sleeves just slightly. “You haven’t seen ‘Mean Girls’ before? I’m so revoking your gay card.”

Regina George is god and the Burn Book is the Bible and anyone who says otherwise is a heathen. At least that’s what Greg always said.

[Demetrius Wolfbane]

"Mmmm... Classy's my middle name." His response was weak, and entirely missed the mark of being offensive. But Demetrius didn't really care. He'd already come to the conclusion that no matter what he did (short of murdering Greg) the telepath wasn't going to be leaving him alone. Which was something the winged boy could say he didn't really mind. Granted he still wasn't sure what the other's motivation was for continuing to put up with Dem, but he couldn't complain. Greg was attractive, more so than any of the guys Dem had conversed with thus far. Plus it didn't hurt that Greg was the first openly gay male he'd met, and also greeted him day one in a towel. Still... He couldn't trust Greg's words. For all he knew the other could be planning something terrible.

The comment about him flirting.... Well... It was probably true. Greg was attractive, for sure. He'd probably keep mentioning it until Greg wasn't attractive. ((Which given the fact Dem still found him attractive even while sick, wasn't happening any time soon.)) "Never got guys back to my place." His words were a little spiteful and without thinking his wing tensed around Greg, trying to draw the telepath closer as a chill ran over him. "Only time I got the guys s'when they were too drunk to remember." He pointed this out bluntly, in a fact of the matter sort of voice. Though he quickly tilted his head and dissolved into a coughing fit aimed at his blanket.

The warmth from Dem's wing was probably originating from the fever the smaller boy had, but Dem wasn't actually noticing this as he was busy fighting down the next wave of nausea. He did managed to laugh, only slightly, at the sight of Greg's mug. "Stop wipin' your snot on my sleeves." His voice was barely above a mumble as he weakly reached down to poke Greg's nose. Alright, so he was definitely flirting at this point. He needs a different face. Because... That would solve all his problems. "S'not my fault! I don't like watchin' chick flicks. Just 'cause I'm gay don't mean I have ta be a girl... Obviously y'think that's the case though." With that, he had to laugh at his own joke. Which once again made the smaller boy start coughing.

((Kinda sucks.... BUT.
BUT IT WORKS.))

[Greg Mackenzie]

“More like ‘Loud-mouthed fool’ or ‘Annoying little twat’ really, but whatever floats your boat.” He gave the boy a little shrug as he put his mug down and began wolfing down his grilled cheese. It wasn’t as good as the grilled cheese his mother made for him whenever he’s sick – different cheese, better grilling and more fillings inside the sandwich than just cheese – but it’d do. Not that he has much taste buds left working anyway.

A smirk spread over Greg’s face as he unintentionally ‘heard’ Dem’s thoughts. The one about the winged boy finally realizing there’s really nothing he can do to get rid of the telepath lest the telepath wanted it, and that he should just deal with it. The faster he can get used to Greg’s slightly off-beat personality, the better it’d be. For both of them. Maybe then Dylan and T.K. would hear less of their bickering. Oh how wonderful would that day be.

“Aww. You poor little thing you,” he replied with a sickeningly sweet patronizing voice. He reached up from his cozy little nest on Dem’s arms and gave the boy a quick pat in on the head. “You do know that when they’re drunk consent isn’t there so technically you’re committing rape.” He was more matter-of-factly when he said the second sentence. He might seem like the irritable carefree hippie, he was serious when it needed to be. “Don’t worry. Starting today we’ll work on your personality so you can actually get boys with their consent. Who knows, if things go so well you might even have a shot at me.”

Greg simply laughed when he got caught. “I’ll be the Regina George to your Cady Heron and you’d be the best Plastic there ever was.” He simply shook his head and rolled his eyes when Dem mentioned the whole chick flicks thing though. “Liking chick flicks don’t make you a girl. What backwater state did you come from anyway?” Oh Americans.

[Demetrius Wolfbane]

"Better than 'Too gay to function'." He smirked down at Gregory when he said that. Okay, so he might have seen the movie. It's not like he actually paid attention. He just happened to notice Greg watching it one night and just happened to keep his door cracked so he could hear. It's not like it was weird or anything to keep an ear on your roommates. They could be doing something illegal while watching the movie. Yes, it even sounded like a weak argument to Demetrius.

The winged boy groaned slightly as Greg ate, his stomach growling softly. But Demetrius ignored it in favor of the smirk currently spread across the telepath's face. Green eyes narrowed slightly. Nothing funny had just happened on TV and... Demetrius glared some as he realized Greg was peeking into his mind, so he quickly tried to conjure up some of the mental images he had of Greg that first day. (And maybe a couple new ones he's had since then.) This, he thought, would be a foolproof method for testing if Greg was in his head or not.

"Shut the hell up, Greg." He growled out, with as much ferocity as a rabbit. As the telepath's hand reached up to ruffle his hair, a spike of anger ran through him and he tilted his head to bite at the wrist connected to the hand. He didn't like being pitied, and he especially didn't want to be looked down at by someone like Greg. Someone as attractive as Greg anyway. Demetrius wasn't going to mention that he never actually flirted with the drunk guys and they always came onto him. Let the other think what he wanted. Greg had probably done worse. "We don't need to work on shit. My personality is fuckin' fine!" He grimaced at the idea of changing more than trying to be nicer. "'Sides... If I wanted ta get with you I could..." Probably.

Confusion crossed his face and he gently shoved Greg with his wing. Or at least he thought he did it gently, he wasn't sure since he sometimes had hard times telling gentle feelings from things that are painful (for obvious reason). "What the fuck do y'mean, I'm not from Africa." With that he glared at Greg and huffed softly. "I came here from Texas if that's what you're after." Sometimes, for brief moments, he could actually forget Greg came from Canada. "And it ain't backwater! ... There wasn't much water down 'round there." Which he knew wasn't what Greg meant but he had to say it anyway.

[Greg Mackenzie]

“Nothing is better than ‘too gay to function’ young padawan.” Though he never identified with Damian – Greg had always been adamant he’d either be Regina George or Gretchen Weiners, though he’s more of a sexless Karen Smith (i.e. just dumb) 90% of the time – he never really took it as an insult. Damian was cool – he seemed very confident of who he was, not letting his size or sexuality get the best of him. Not as cool as any of the Plastics, but definitely better than Cady Heron.

He honestly was about to get out of the winged boy’s head when the images started. It started pretty tame at first, not unlike the images he got when they first met, then became a little bit more…extreme. “Shitstopthatnofuckomygoshcanwenotwhydoyouhavetomakethingsweirdwehadamomentyoulittletwatomygahbrainbleachpls!” said the Canadian as he tried to distance himself from Dem, his body twitching as he moved to the other end of the couch. Thank goodness his training with the two Mr. Wrights were going great and he got the images as quickly as they had appeared.

His body’s response though would take a bit more time. But the hell with it, Dem knew what it was his fault; Greg won’t feel ashamed of it.

“Umm, you call openly thinking about me having your dick up my ass ‘fine’? What a warped world you live in dear sir.” He knew Dem didn’t mean any lasting harm with his thoughts, so he happily pushed the boy’s wings away and curled up close again. Human pillows were just the best. “It’s so cute that you think that,” he added with a self-assured smile.

The shove wasn’t as serious as Dem thought it’d be. As a lacrosse player, he’s been shoved around way harder during times he wasn’t even prepared for, and he ended up alright. Mostly. “Are you saying Africa’s a backwater country? How rude!” replied Greg, his tone of exaggerated offense, “My fourth grade Math teacher was from South Africa and he was the classiest teacher I had all my life. He had a British accent and all. So civilized.” And also very terrifying. He could still remember how cold Mr. Johnson’s voice sounded when he’s angry with the class for being a little too loud and engaging in a food fight (than Greg started).

[Demetrius Wolfbane]

"I am." His tone was rather confident, considering that Greg had just got done insulting him. Though Demetrius was so used to insults they just rolled off his back at this point and he rarely noticed unless one was purposefully harsh. Or if he was already angry and then even apologizing was likely to make him angrier. But none of that really applied to his annoying roommate. Greg's face and tone tended to make up for whatever words were coming out of his mouth. Dem's thoughts paused as he wondered when exactly he'd come to consider Greg "not that bad". He'd probably have to stop the progress before he let Greg get too far. Especially considering the other was a telepath.

When Demetrius got no immediate response from Greg, he tried to create more... Exciting scenarios, wondering if maybe Greg was just trying to ignore. That elicited a response from the telepath, and when the other scrambled away Demetrius continued laying in his spot with a rather stunned expression. He's almost dropped his tea. The small boy let out a loud, entirely too real laugh at Greg's rushed speech. His body actually shook from the force of it before it sputtered out and he took a drink of the cooling tea Greg prepared. "Dumbass. Told y'before. Stay outta my head. Come in again and I'll make sure it ain't such pleasant images." Green eyes glanced meaningfully at Greg's lap before looking back up.

"Well my world's your world so you can just fuckin' deal." He was still drinking from the tea with all dignity he could muster when Greg climbed back on him. "Hey! Damnit! If y'don't want it to happen don't be climbing all up here! Or I swear I'll do it!" It being what was mentioned/pictured/imagined in his head. His wing flapped some with Greg's shove but he quickly settled into their original position, trying to ignore how his stomach was turning from the sudden introduction of subsistence. The reminder that he shouldn't be letting Greg this close tugged at his mind once more before he pushed it away.

Dem didn't actually think the shove was serious, he just was never sure where to draw the line between "playful" and "painful". Granted he would never admit what he was doing with Greg was playful. Dem didn't do playful, it just wasn't him. But it was- or at least with Greg it was. Smirking slightly he took another drink of the tea that wasn't yet making him feel better. "Africa's backwater and y'know it. Just 'cause you lusted after yet another guy who happens to be from there don't make a lick of a difference." He shoved Greg again with his wing, groaning under his breath. "Classy my ass. He's probably just some Cohen replica or somethin'."

" 'Sides. We all know Dr. Neville is the classiest, and kinda most terrifyin', male 'round school."

[Greg Mackenzie]

Greg didn’t need to be a telepath to know that Dem just checked his bulge out. ‘Cause to be honest, if the roles were reversed, the Canadian would’ve done the same thing, if not worse. Boys have needs after all. And ‘sides, Dem wasn’t exactly subtle about the whole thing. “Can you not stare at my dick too hard please?” he muttered as he let out a yawn, “Greg junior loves the attention and I swear he wouldn’t go down if you continue giving him some. So please, clean thoughts please. Or at least those of dead rotting puppies and monsters that lurk in the dark.”

Oh poor little Dem. He always acted in between pitiful and cute and Greg actually didn’t know how to feel, so he usually just went with cute and indulged the boy. It seemed to make their roommate relationship more harmonious, so why not. “Careful now little birdie. I might just call your bluff and give you a peck in the cheek to test it out,” chuckled Greg, shaking his head as his eyes focused on the screen. Rachel McAdams just told Lindsay Lohan to get in her car ‘cause they’re going shopping and Greg couldn’t get any more excited.

Greg tried to keep his giggling down when the mall scene unfolded. Regina pretending to be from Planned Parenthood to get back at the new girl Jason’s dating was everything. “I have such a lady boner for Regina George right now I can’t even.” He was so enjoying the moment up until Dem mentioned that Africa’s backwater. “Can you not be so ignorant?” He gave Dem the most unimpressed death stare he could ever muster. “Don’t know who Cohen is and maybe Dr. Neville is, but calling Africa backwater is just rude. South Africa, for one, is a first-world country.” He didn’t know much else about the other nations, but he had to call the Texan out for such a sweeping generalization. He might be cute but he didn’t need to act like a stereotypical Texan conservative who thought America was the best. (Or at least that’s what Greg got from TV shows).

“Self-confidence is sexy but you’re just being rude right now and it’s turning me off. See.” He pointed to his crotch and shrugged. “And that is lesson number one in personality reform.”

[Demetrius Wolfbane]

"But your dick is staring back?" Demetrius smirked some as he looked down at the rather friendly boy. Of course he wasn't subtle. With Greg being a telepath it was easy enough to just voice the majority of his opinions rather than waiting for Greg to read his mind. Though.. A brief thought went through his mind as he tried to figure out if Greg could communicate into his brain. Then they could talk even around crowds. "Dead puppies?... That's disgustin'. I'm stickin' with my first thoughts."

His eyes narrowed at Greg's 'threat' and he reached out suddenly to ruffle Greg's hair. Childish, immature, and just this side of cute. But he didn't dwell on any of those definitions. It would invite too many people to be nice to him. "Just admit... Y'wanna kiss me." His joke was gentle as he frowned some. His stomach was turning once more but he quickly pushed down the feeling so that he could focus on the telepath. And on keeping his thoughts clean, per Greg's orders. Something that was not at all working as flashes continued popping into his head.

Demetrius left his hand on Greg's hair, shutting his eyes some so he could just listen to the movie. It was more familiar that way. A bit more familiar to. Or he tried to. He ended up opening his eyes after a rapid blinking session, looking down in honest surprise. "No fuckin' way. No fuckin' way is Africa a first-world country." Granted Demetrius should have known better considering he read so many books, and on such diverse topics. But usually all the work he read dealt with Europeans and fantasy, not Asian and African cultures. Plus he could always blame the fact that he grew up in Texas, which wasn't known for it's "open minded" thinking. Which does include prejudice against everything different. Granted times have changed and people grow, but the town Demetrius spent the majority of his life in was an exception to "change".

The urge to respond to Greg's insult was quickly pushed down as his stomach rolled again and an unpleasant sensation went up his throat. "Greg.... Ge'off..." Was all he managed to mumble before he was shoving the telepath off of his body so he could run back to the bathroom.

[Greg Mackenzie]

Greg shook his head and smiled. “Dude, if you wanna touch it, just say so. I mean I’m no mindreader sheesh. Oh wait I am. Shit.” Oh how he hated that he can’t use that excuse anymore. Telepathy really did complicate relationships now, romantic or otherwise.

Dem ruffling his head made the Canadian instinctively close his eyes and coo just slightly. It was exactly how Richard treated him when they’re hanging out, despite Greg being a good half foot taller than his ex and all. He also smiled a bit and curled to the Texan a bit more, letting out a yawn. “I would, but you just puked. If I wanted to know how the burrito you had for breakfast yesterday tasted, I could just read your mind.” The Texan’s lips seemed kind of soft though, but really this was Dem he’s thinking about. Romance with Dem just didn’t seem all too possible. Don’t shit where you eat and all.

“You’re hopeless.” No use trying to convince Dem that not all of Africa was third-world. Not in this state at least. He didn’t have the energy to argue and he doubted the boy had the energy to take in what he was saying. The Texan was in a way worse situation than he was after all.

He was just about to take a sip off his tea when Dem began scrambling out of his place in the couch. Greg was a little too curled up to the boy that he actually spilled some on his leg and onto the floor as he was shoved, making him hiss as the hot liquid seeped through his onesie and touched his leg. “Holy fucking shit! Are you trying to make me infertile Wolfbane?” Half an inch higher and it would’ve landed directly on his crotch. At least he wasn’t drinking coffee; boy would the stain be harder to remove if it were.

[Demetrius Wolfbane]

(('Member the 200 or less?.... I'm continuing it))

"Did y'just forget your a damned telepath?" Demetrius chuckled softly and threaded his fingers into Greg's hair. Originally he wanted to yank on the soft locks but after only a moment of debating the winged boy decided to just leave them there. He didn't even want to begin questioning why it was he liked his hand in Greg's hair. That would lead to a line of thoughts he wasn't ready to even begin contemplating. He didn't even want to think about why it was that he wasn't shoving Greg away like he had the plague. Maybe he could just blame the fact that Greg was his personal warmer and pillow or something. "I didn't have a burrito for breakfast. Dylan did." This was pointed out just a little smugly.

After his original shove, Demetrius busied himself by trying to get untangled from the cuddling Greg. His stomach turned again at all the movement but he ignored it, and Greg's comment, in favor of rushing to the bathroom and shutting the door. Once there he did a stunning impression of a drunken hobo into the toilet. Demetrius paused at the bathroom mirror before running the water, casually wiping his face and rinsing out his mouth with mouthwash. It did nothing to stop the desire to repeat his impression. He flushed the toilet before opening the door, stumbling briefly back to the couch but didn't lay back down. Instead he just looked pointedly from his spot to Greg, wanting the satisfaction of Greg being his pillow. "Wouldn't matter if y'were infertile, Mackenzie. You're gayer than a fuckin' rainbow. Your sperm'll be wasted anyway." There. A reply to Greg's outburst at long last.