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02 July 2014 @ 10:50 pm
Disney - Chuckle  
Title: Stuffed With Fluff
Fandom: Disney - Toy Story/Winnie The Pooh
Prompt: Chuckle
Pairing: Andy/Christopher Robin
Words: 489
Rating: PG


“Cute kid,” Christopher Robin comments, kneeling behind Andy on the bed. His chin settles on Andy’s shoulder, looking down at the photo in Andy’s hand. “How do you know her?”

“My mum knows her mum,” Andy explains, grinning when Christopher Robin nuzzles in, lips brushing Andy’s neck. “Before I came to college, I gave her a load of my old toys. Sometimes she sends me photos, to show me how they’re doing.”

He smiles fondly at the picture, at the way Bonnie has positioned the toys in an elaborate scene around her sandbox, at the way she’s grinning at the camera, Woody hugged close to her chest.

“I’m surprised you didn’t bring them with you,” Christopher Robin teases. “Sentimental sap like you.”

Andy laughs and twists, pushing Christopher Robin back against the sheets. He squirms beneath Andy’s weight, grinning brightly, until Andy manages to pin him, hands tight around his wrists.

“I almost did,” Andy admits, sitting on Christopher Robin’s stomach, thumbs rubbing over Christopher Robin’s pulse points. “The cowboy, at least. He was a present from my dad, before he left.”

“Why didn’t you?” Christopher Robin asks, voice a little softer.

Andy shrugs. “I guess I didn’t want my roommate to think I’m a dork.”

Christopher Robin bursts out laughing, and Andy digs his knees into Christopher Robin’s sides, riding the buck of his hips.

“The idea you believe that anyone could know you more than five minutes and not think you’re a dork is adorable,” he snickers, and Andy has to lean down, has to swipe his tongue up the side of Christopher Robin’s neck, tickling him and making him shudder deliciously between Andy’s thighs.

He leans back, enjoying the way Christopher Robin’s a little flushed, from laughter and from Andy’s touch.

“Maybe I didn’t want to split them up,” Andy adds sheepishly. “The toys, I mean. They should be together.”

He’s expecting more laughter, but instead Christopher Robin tilts his head, considering. “Yeah, I get that,” he agrees easily. “I had this teddy bear - when I was young I took him everywhere. I saw him when I was packing and almost bought him with me, but it seemed weird to split him up from the other toys.”

Andy huffs out a laugh. “And you say I’m the dork! I can just imagine you on the flight over from England, ratty old bear clutched tight to your chest.”

“Hey, there’s nothing ratty about Pooh,” Christopher Robin protests, and Andy almost chokes, doubling over at the words.

“Your teddy bear is called Pooh!?” he splutters, and he’s laughing so hard it’s easy for Christopher Robin to slip his wrists free, to roll them over until he’s got Andy pressed down against the mattress.

“Don’t mock my Pooh Bear,” he scolds, but he’s laughing too, pressing giggling kisses to Andy’s face, chests moving together, legs tangled, skin hot.

Maybe they’re both dorks, but at least they’re dorks together.