How Could I Say No?

The Blizzard of '11

IMPORTANT: Though this IS about Chris and Jordan, this is NOT the next chapter of “How Could I Say No?” Think of it more as a Christmas card in the form of a story that’s dedicated to all my fans and readers.

Prepare yourself for the most epic cheesiness ever.

 “Flight 2601 to Chicago will be delayed another three hours.” The chipper flight attendant who made the announcement may as well have been Satan himself from the horrendous information she seemed to be spouting every 10 minutes.

 Everyone in possession of tickets for the flight mentioned groaned and whipped out various electronic devices in order to contact whoever it was that was waiting for them at their destination. Every single text, phone call, Facebook post, and e-mail consisted of the word “late”. Eight hours late to be exact.

It wasn’t surprising that the flight was delayed though. After all, if you looked out the windows you’d see literally nothing but white. Perhaps a faint light from the runways would shine through now and again, but it was a rare sight to see at this point. The really irritating thing, however, was that Chicago had no snow at all. In fact, just the day before it had been in the upper 40s.

“Fuck Colorado weather,” Christofer cursed and sped up his pace. Naturally, every single seat at the gate and the gates around were occupied, leaving him and dozens of others on the disgusting floor.

He wasn’t really one to care about things like that; germs didn’t bother him in the least as long as he had some form of soap nearby. It was his boyfriend he was worried about. Jordan had developed a horrible case of bronchitis during their tour, and sitting in an area where thousands of dirty shoes had been would not help at all.

The announcement about the delay was repeated and Chris turned his powerwalk into a jog while being careful not to drop the load of items he was carrying.

After what seemed like an eternity, Jordan was in eyesight sitting huddled against a wall with nothing but their luggage beside him. His face was pale, he had circles under his eyes, and his body shook from his wheezing coughs. Christofer mentally beat himself with a shovel for leaving him alone.

“Hey, baby,” he panted when he finally got to the sick boy. Jordan smiled weakly.

“Hey. You were gone a while, I thought you were just getting gum?”

Chris laughed and shook his head. “Obviously not,” he said while plopping down next to Jordan and placing his purchases on the ground.

“Alright, smart-aleck. What’d you get?”

“I got a shit ton of water, some cough medicine, and a bed.” he replied while shoving a water bottle and medicine in his boyfriend’s direction.

“Thank you SO much. I’ve been dying for some Nyquil or something. But what do you mean by a bed?” He carefully measured out a dose of medicine, gulped it down and quickly followed it with a swig of water.  Chris chuckled at the childelike scrunchy face he made after.

“Well it’s not much…but I hunted down some pillows and blankets. You need to sleep. We’re going to be here a while.”

“I guess…”

“What’s wrong?”

Jordan pulled his knees to his chest and sighed. “This is not how I expected our first Christmas together to be. I had this whole romantic day in Chicago planned for us and I wanted to eat cookies and watch movies and open presents and do that thing we do where we wander around in our hotel until we get lost and see how long it takes us to find our way back! But no. We’re in an airport on Christmas Eve ‘til god knows when and I can’t even hold your hand.”