dragon challenge header

not real, made up, purely intended for entertainment


by Buddleia

"Puff the ma-gic dragon—" sang JC, eyes unfocussed and glassily pointed at the bus ceiling. "Puff the ma-gic dragon lived by the sea."


"Puff the ma-gic dragon lived by the sea."

"JC. Stop singing that."

"Puff the ma-gic dragon—"

Chris threw a cushion. JC sang, muffled, underneath it. Chris looked vaguely around for another one. There wasn’t anything throwable, at least without getting up.

"Let that be a lesson to you," he said, half-heartedly. He waved his hand in a threatening manner.

JC turned his face sideways under the cushion. And took a breath. Chris swiped weakly at him from his position on the floor. "Stop singing. Sto-oooop singing." JC looked at him reproachfully. Chris squeaked. He looked around for cover but couldn’t be bothered to move.

Justin made a noise from the bunks. It was a super secret coded noise especially for Chris. It meant "I’m coming out now and you should make sure I don’t see anything bad." Chris understood Justin. Justin understood Chris. They had a bond. Chris sucked thoughtfully on his braces. It must have been noisy because JC whacked at him.

Justin appeared above him. He was smiling. Chris looked at him, awestruck. "Dude."

Justin mugged at him. "Dude."

JC started singing again. Justin, because he was evil, really, truly evil, joined in. Thankfully, he knew the words, and Chris’s world restarted with a jerk when the two of them finally got to the next line of the song. "Frolicked," he muttered, "who says that?" He wondered if Lance would say it. It seemed possible.

"That song is all about smoking pot," he said loudly, when the Js came to a triumphant and harmonic end. Justin’s face went abruptly sour.

"No, it’s not. It’s got nothing to do with drugs." His face went from sour to upset when Chris shrugged. "The band always denied it. Peter, Paul and Mary. We used to sing it in the car."


"It’s just a kid’s song, Chris! It doesn’t have to mean something else!"

Chris said nothing. He had a feeling that the world was ending and he thought that he might be okay if he kept really still. Justin huffed a bit and then went back into the bunks.

Later on, JC’s hand petted his hair and it fell into his eyes. A lot of time seemed to have passed and it was dark outside. His mouth was gritty and he had a sore leg from propping it against the table. He got up painfully and went to get something food-like.

"Sandwich, C?" JC pursed his mouth up and shook his head, hair making a scrunching noise against the hideous leopardskin fabric. He looked exactly the same as he usually did, the bastard. Chris felt crappy and undoubtedly looked it. He could almost feel the red in his eyes. He ate a sandwich sitting on the floor and picked up a random Gameboy. After playing in a desultory way for a few minutes, he dropped it and leaned on JC. Justin made a noise from the bunks. Chris had no idea what it meant. He sighed heavily and snuffled against JC’s leg and JC made a disgusted noise.

Chris started singing, quietly, and JC laughed. "Chris."

"—Little Jackie Paper—"

"Chris. Don’t be so worried."

"—loved that rascal Puff—"

"Don’t read stuff into it—"

"—and brought him string and sealing-wax—"

"It doesn’t have to mean something else."



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