FUCK IT.

Here's a fluffy chapter that y'all didn't even ask for!

Enjoy!

Albert padded down the length of his hallway, dressed in only a plush, dark blue robe, following the greasy, mouthwatering scent of freshly cooked bacon that hung in the air. His fluffy, tan hair was a shade or two darker now, on account of him having just showered, and sat smoothed down a bit and looking quite glossy on his fat head.

His stomach growled quite loudly as he made his way towards the kitchen, now wide awake and eager to start the day. He had quite a lot more energy than before he'd jumped under the hot, steamy spray of his showerhead.

As Albert rounded the corner, he caught sight of Jonas, who stood at his stove, poking with a spatula at something that sat frying in a pan on its back burner.

He soon came to a stop, leaning against the corner of a nearby wall, just watching the man as he cooked.

It was a part of his morning routine he could really get used to, Albert concluded. Waking up with Laski wrapped around him, his head buried into his shoulder, only to find the bald idiot later cooking breakfast, dressed only in a white tank top he'd probably grabbed from the disorganized pile of work clothes he'd left back in the living room. He also had on a pair of loose, black sweatpants he clearly stole from Albert's closet, evident by just how baggy they looked on him.

Albert reveled for a moment or two longer in the sight of the happy-looking judge as he hummed away to the tune of some familiar old melody, the title of which he just couldn't put his finger on right yet before he ambled all the way into the room, wrapping his arms around Jonas's waist. He pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before drawing himself in closer to the man, nuzzling the side of his neck, his lips brushing tenderly against the delicate, freckled skin there.

The humming failed to stop until Jonas fully succeeded in turning all 8 strips of bacon over on one pan, then refocusing his attention on the couple of sunny-side-up eggs crackling on the front burner.

He leaned into the other man's hold a bit as he supervised both pans with bright, shining eyes that looked like little pools of raw honey in the sunlight that streamed through one of Albert's windows on the far side of the kitchen.

"Morning, Al." Jonas acknowledged him, setting the spatula he'd been holding in one hand to caress Albert's forearm, which rest just below his ribcage. Albert just gathered him up closer, craving their close proximity like a young pothead craves hamburgers and milkshakes. He moved up to the side of his head then, pressing a kiss into the feathery, gray remainder of Jonas's hair as he cuddled him, before uttering a soft greeting to him in his own turn.

"G'morning, Sweetheart," his hands began to wander a bit, sliding beneath his tank top, feeling their way across his abdomen. It wasn't perfectly flat, of course, but well-toned from all the hockey the man had been playing since even before the two had gotten their acts together.

Trying not to let himself melt into the other man's touch and burn his creations, Jonas busied himself, picking the spatula back up, giving those eggs a quick flip before jabbing at his bacon.

"You did all this?"

"I said I would, didn't I?" The bald man retorted, hardly able to be offended by Campbell's accusation as those hands slid briefly up to his chest before moving back down, settling on his hips, caressing the well-defined bones there with his fingertips.

"I know you did, Baldy. I just stopped believing you as soon as I got up!" Campbell teased, pressing another kiss to Laski's fat head. "You were out like a light this morning, dead to the world! Didn't even open your eyes when I got up to shower!"

"Woke up about 5 minutes later," Jonas confessed, stepping out of Albert's hold for the briefest of moments to fetch his tongs, using them to transport the bacon onto a waiting plate, lined with paper towels to sop up all that bacon grease, because that's how breakfast works in 'MURICA. "Floor's real cold without you."

The balder judge returned his attention to the pan up front once more, poking its contents with his spatula. Campbell folded him back into his arms from behind, his hands drifting down to toy with the waistband of the oversized, dark sweats he wore.

"Seems like you've found your own way to warm up..." he purred, hands now drifting past that waistband, caressing his thighs. Albert savored the way his lover shivered at his touch, nearly dropping the utensil in his hand.

"I can give 'em back to you after breakfast, Al. I didn't mean to—" Jonas began to rebuke himself for the intrusion when Albert interrupted him with a hand on his jaw, kissing him from behind. Eventually, Jonas ended up dropping the spatula on the counter, abandoning the instrument as he turned to face Albert, letting himself get pushed against a nearby refrigerator.

"You didn't," Campbell rasped once they'd broken away for air, gazing at Laski through smoldering baby blues, now looking a lot more hungry for his bald lover than anything he'd been cooking.

"Believe me, Jo. They look a lot better on you..."

Jonas moaned as Albert drew him into another hot, passionate kiss, reaching down to grab at his ass through soft, smooth fabric. The older brunette tore his lips away again, shifting his attention towards Jonas's neck, catching the delicate, freckled skin there between his teeth, eliciting another soft, needy sound from him.

The shorter of the two tipped his head back against the cool, smooth surface of the man's fridge, bringing his hands up to run them through his wet, dark hair, a part of his lover that was without a single doubt, his favorite.

Well. His favorite G-rated part, anyway...

It took only another few long, hot moments before Jonas began to protest, coming to his senses.

"Albert..." he groused, cut off by a little whine on his own behalf as Campbell continued to grope his backside, squeezing and pinching all the right places, his sloppy wet kisses on Laski's neck becoming a bit more ardent.

And either there was a gavel stuffed down the pocket of his robe, or the beige-haired judge was getting amped up for something a whole lot messier than eggs and bacon...

"C'mon Al! The eggs are gonna burn!"

"Let em burn..." Albert growled, before planting his lips right back on him, silencing Jonas completely, exploring and probing the all-too-familiar terrain of the man's mouth without a care in the world.

Not too long after he'd let himself get utterly lost in Albert's kiss did he muster up the strength to pull away from him, leaving the rather worked up and flushed judge to lean against the fridge, struggling to catch his breath.

"Food first. We can have ourselves another one of those confidential, judge-to-judge discussions later," Laski informed him as he tried to pry his mind away from the quickly growing friction in his...Albert's sweatpants, moving up his form to boil deep in his now seemingly-less empty stomach.

Occupying himself, he tossed the slightly over-fried eggs onto their waiting plates, already complete with warm, buttered toast. The darker-haired judge groaned, disappointed, as Jonas continued to walk their plates over to the dining table he'd set not 20 minutes earlier, setting them down.

"Honest to God, Al! I have no idea how you've still got energy for that kinda stuff after last night!" Laski yapped once he'd walked the plate of bacon over to their table too, and Campbell had finally sat down, reluctantly stuffing a forkful of eggs into his mouth, despite craving something of his bald lover's that had absolutely nothing to do with the meal he'd just thrown together. The other man was still up and around, pouring coffee for the both of them as Campbell watched him quite longingly.

"For your information, Judge Laski," Albert teased, taking care to enunciate the few syllables in the man's title. "I may not be quite as young as I used to be, but I'm not lame!"

"Yeah, well, we've got all day," Jonas reminded him, finally taking his seat across from the man, fixing him with his bright, glowing, coffee-colored gaze. "Let's try and make it last."

He reached over with his fork, tapping Albert's own in a ridiculous exchange vaguely resembling the clinking of two glasses in a toast. The action immediately caused an adorable, toothy grin to spread across Albert's face as he remembered just why he loved that dorky, bald idiot sitting ahead of him, already starting on his bacon. He gazed at the salty, multi-colored meat, packed with cholesterol and grease with almost as much love in his eyes as when he'd looked at Albert not a few seconds prior.

As the morning progressed, marching ceaselessly into the afternoon, the two merely ate, talking about what seemed like nothing and everything at the same time. Work, sports, the hockey matches Jonas would be headed to in later months, the tragic death of Albert's lavender out back in his garden after the delicate plants had failed to adapt to the cooling temperatures.

Every now and again Jonas peered down tablewards, reading off the bland information from that morning's paper, educating himself of just what the fuck was going on in the world. Meanwhile, Albert could help but peer up at his lover, noting how the rays of sunshine hit his bald head just so, making it gleam like a God damned spotlight, or failing to stifle a giggle when the man made a face at something he'd just read.

Not all that long after the fact, once all the dishes had been washed and dried, during which Albert took every possible chance to flick nasty, bacon grease-laced water at his favorite cheating bastard adulterer, inevitably starting a childish war between the two that only came to a truce when Jonas accidentally got it in his mouth—they found themselves on Albert's couch.

The owner of said couch lay on one side on top of the spacious leather thing, his head in Jonas's lap.

"Where'd all that pent up energy go, Al?" Jonas teased, gazing down at him through warm, dark eyes as he played once more with Albert's hair, running his finger through the now-fluffy and dry locks on his head. "Less than an hour ago you were ready to let your kitchen go up in flames, trying to get me to bend you over the damn counter!"

"Your stupid breakfast is weighing me down!" Campbell grumbled against the bald man's thigh, feeling quite drowsy all of a sudden as Laski raked his nails gently against his scalp, causing the energy he had when he'd gotten up for his shower to die like a cheap succulent plant from Walmart. "I think a nap's in order first."

Laski shook his head, that broad, dimpled grin failing to run away from his face as he let himself relax against the back of the couch. One hand left the depths of hair on Campbell's fat head in search of the man's TV remote. He occupied himself briefly with flicking through the channels on the somewhat outrageously large flatscreen that every middle-aged white guy in America seems to obtain at one time or another throughout their life.

The rectangular electronic sat above the fireplace they'd made love by just the previous night, which had since been relit to fight off the minor chill that'd settled into the house overnight, making itself known in the form of cold feet and frigid bathroom tiles as the almost-fall morning blended with the delightfully balmy still-kind-of-summer-ish-weather of the afternoon.

Various mismatched blankets and pillows still littered the floor just beyond the coffee table, mainly due to the fact that both men were moving too slowly that morning to have the motivation to do anything about them.

"If you really do love me," Albert began as soon as Jonas had settled on a program, his other hand now free and back to caressing the top of the man's head. "You won't force me to watch the damn Good Doctor with you!"

"The Hell should you care! You're practically slipping into a coma after all that bacon!" Jonas protested, those fingers pausing in their motions so he could put all his energy into yapping st the man. "And besides! What's so wrong about this show?"

"Writing's shit," Albert complained, moving his efforts to become unconscious to the back burner while he voiced his opinions to the bald man holding his head. "First few seasons were good, but now they're really killing people off just to kill 'em off. Probably want their half-assed death scenes to get as much attention as the one's on Grey's."

Laski just sat there, still petting the man's head as the offending television show's intro played, hoping he would just drop the matter and let him watch this one rerun. But of course, he didn't.

"Change it, Jo!" Campbell yapped, reminding the man just a little bit of his wife, now. "The writers are filthy attention whores!"

"But Albert, I just wanna see if—!"

"Now," he commanded, remaining defiant as he picked his head up to roll over and look at him. The back of his head pressed against Jonas's thighs now as Albert eyed him with serious, baby blues. "Or you won't be getting near this ass for the rest of your 'business trip'!"

Despite the fact that Jonas knew he could call the man's bluff with ease when it came his turn to shower that day, and the very hint of doubt that shone in Albert's eyes as he glared at him, almost as if even he didn't believe that threat—Jonas wasted no time in picking that remote back up, resuming the search for something to watch as he lulled his older companion to sleep.

"Better?" Laski asked the man, settling on a channel that was right in the middle of playing through The West Wing reruns instead.

"Much," Campbell affirmed, letting his eyes fall shut at last, ready to lose his ongoing battle with the Sandman. "Thank you."

Laski poked his nose with his index finger, virtually booping the idiot like an unruly dog.

Campbell smiled, opening his eyes briefly to observe the intrusion on the tip of his nose, making him go cross-eyed for a moment. The ridiculous image drew a hearty laugh from the other judge, his eyes lighting up even more.

"Anything for you, my love." He teased with a chuckle.

Slowly, but surely, the man wound down with each little caress of his head from Laski until he finally managed to drift off entirely, the bullshit plot of his least favorite TV show far from his mind, the faded scent of Laski's tobacco and cedarwood body wash serving as a welcome replacement.

As soon as he was sure the other man had long since fallen asleep, Jonas snagged a stray blanket from the floor, one that lay close to his feet.

Draping it over his beloved sleeper, he took care to make sure it covered him from his feet to his shoulders, smoothing it out on top of him.

Absentmindedly, he continued to run his fingers through the man's hair, watching the show they'd settled on despite knowing full well he could change it right on back to ABC to watch his first choice without so much as a grunt from Albert.

Patiently, he waited for him to wake up and let Jonas love him all over again, just as he'd originally planned for that sunny afternoon.

TBC

BITCH
IF Y'ALL KNOW, YOU KNOW
#MELENDEZSHOULDHAVEFUCKINGLIVED

...thank you for coming to my impromptu TEDTalk :)