Left Behind

"Why the long face?" Chris neatly picked the wrapper from his sandwich, and took a healthy bite.

Turning up his nose at the pre-packaged sandwich, David pushed his tray aside. "Same old," he muttered, arms crossed over his chest.

"Same old sandwich?" Chris said around the bite in his mouth, and he took another.

David snorted, "Same old everything," he said with a hint of irritation. "Same old weather, same old travel, same old crap food, same old being passed over...." his voice trailed off and he turned his head to watch the hustle of the airport concourse. "I feel like I'm beng left behind."

Chris dropped the rest of his sandwich back on to his tray and pushed it aside, "You need an attitude adjustment Mr. Grumpy Gus," he said. He reached down for his bag and slung it over his shoulder, "Come on."

"Hell no," David said, his scowl deepening, "I'm quite familar with your attitude adjustments, and somehow LAX doesn't seem the venue."

Patented smirk affixed firmly to his features Chris reached out a hand, "Not that kind of attitude adustment old man, now come -on-."

With a loud sigh, David scooped up his bag, ignored Chris's extended hand and stood, "Lead on," he gruffed.

There was an outdoor area set aside for smokers, neither of them smoked, but Chris deemed it was the perfect venue. They were alone there on this grey, rain-soaked day. He twined his arm around David's back and pushed him up against the wall, out of the line of view from the windows.

"You're not being left behind David," he murmured as he raised his hand to trace a finger over David's cheek. "You have that something, that -it- that a lot of people don't have. Too many days on the road, too little sleep, and not enough to eat. Suck it up, gut it out, your chance in the sun is right over that horizon." He traced over David's lips. "You know I'm telling you the truth. Now put a smile on these lips, we'll go back inside and find you something tempting to eat...maybe a Snickers bar."

David's eyes widened, and he turned to nip at the tip of Chris's finger, "Damn you," he growled, "You always manage to say the right thing." He reached down and wrapped an arm around Chris's back, pulled him closer, "But if you try to make me eat a Snickers bar I'll shove it up your ass."

Chris leaned back and laughed, "Now that's the David I know," he leaned closer to whisper, "But you won't be shoving the Snickers up my ass..." and he winked.

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