Work Text:
Osmosis knew he was a white blood cell, and a DAMN good one at that. It's why he didn't understand why in the toe fungus, did he need this pill? This college boy? Yes, he was a good guy, down in his giant, seltzer fueled heart. If he had one. Whatever, how was he supposed to know what this guy was made of? Yes he repeated it a dozen times, but who sits there and listens to this? Honestly? Jones didn't hate the guy, he proved himself as someone who took his job seriously, but he was the kinda pill who thought he knew it all, when he actually didn't. Sure he knew how to handle an inflamed throat, sure he was great for aches and pains. But he didn't know JACK about his man Frank. He was better off without him, honestly. He couldn't wait till his dumb, 12 hour program was over and done with. Because if he had to sit there, and listen to his warning label again, he was gonna shove his fist right in his-
"Glazed, and a jelly filled nucleus?"
"Over here."
He picked up his small box, and went into his car, before sighing. Just looking at what this guy was doing to the roof, was absolutely killing him. He put the box beside him, and looked over at his notes again.
"Hey you ever hear of a…'la muerte roja'?"
Drix gave a shake of his head, averting his gaze. Alright then. At least he stopped talking for once in his damn life. He shrugged, put his seatbelt on, and hit the gas. He drove them to the nasal dam, and tried not to ask questions as he noticed Drix spit something into his mouth upon arrival. Probably some pill thing he'd never understand. He put it in park, and shut off the music. He'd respect the guy a heck of a lot more if he appreciated good tunes, rather than covering his ears the ride over.
"Well, we're here. You happy?"
"You hear that? Quick, Jones, the dam is under attack!"
Drix got out of the car, and loaded his weapon, and Jones found himself mentally sighing. He'd give the guy one thing, he was pretty determined to do his job. Even if he was being a fool in the process. Jones got out of the car, and gestured Drix to stand down.
"Hey, chill, pill. Just some snot boogers coating some dust."
"Oh."
Drix finally cooled it, enough for him to put his weapon down. He watched the booger drones at work, seeming to study them. And Jones understood that. Frank P.D, and every member in its government, worked their little butts off keeping this body standing. It was respectable, hard work. As hard work as it was though, mistakes could be made. Which was what Jones was thinking of, as a pollen pod escaped the booger workers, floating over to the dam. Drix looked up at it, clearly interested. Boy was in the pill bottle his whole life, made sense he'd never seen one of these before. Also made sense that he wanted to get a better look at it, and immediately reached out to touch it.
"Hey, look!"
Thankfully, your main man Jones handled that real quick. He swatted his hand away, and reached up for it himself.
"Hey! Yo yo yo, be careful! That's a pollen pod, man. Frank is totally allergic to this stuff!"
"I didn't know Frank had allergies."
"Of COURSE you didn't."
He grabbed at one of the...things spreading from the pollen pod. He never picked up the name, but who said he had to know? If you know how to do your job, knowing the names of these kinda things wasn't important. He yanked, and forced the pollen pod to shrink down. He'd just take this back to the station for disposal. Frank P.D handled not just viruses and germs, but anything that'd inconvenience Frank. And he'd bet a jelly filled nucleus, that this pill had no idea.
"No useless pill knows what goes on in here."
And it was true. Osmosis didn't hate on this guy, but it wasn't fair. Everyone was just gushing over this guy, when he didn't know two cells about his boy Frank. Jones knew every in and out, every nook and cranny, every white and red blood cell. The attention from that would've been nice, particularly from Leah, but Jones wasn't upset about it. He was upset that some flashy, showboating, college boy, acted like he knew everything. He didn't belong here! Not in HIS city of Frank! Frank wasn't like any other body, and for this placebo to come in here, and act like he had his stripes, was insulting. A crime. An absolute-
"Woops!"
Okay, maybe he was kinda distracted. This kind of thing usually didn't happen, but Jones accidentally let the pollen spring free, despite trying to teach out and grab it, and watched it as the pod travelled down Frank's throat. That's not good.
"Uh...Jones?"
"In the words of the immortal James Brown, get down!"
"James who?"
By the time he asked his question, Jones had already ducked down behind the dam walls, and then, it happened. A sneeze that made Frank himself lunge forward, slammed Drix into the dam wall, and sent Jones flying, landing right onto Drix. Thankfully he was a pretty big pill, or he would've been an ex resident of Frank. As strong as the sneeze was, it lasted only a few seconds, and they felt the relief after said seconds. Well, not Jones, he landed on his face once he was off Drix, but that wasn't so bad. Drix however, was of another opinion.
"You...nitwit! You could've damaged the dam!"
Someone didn't test this medicine for all possible side effects. Because he didn't see 'will cause endless complaining' as a part of his label. Jones got up, rubbed the pain out of his face, and smiled, trying to show all was good.
"Relaax! This baby was built to last. Solid cartilage."
He knocked on the dam, as if that'd prove his point to Drix. It didn't.
"Oh you're an engineer now. Excuse me, I need to test the mucus viscosity."
Least the sarcasm was the only tongue lashing he got out of that. Drix was all protocols, and rules. Stuff that was meant to be broken and replaced. Speaking of, he silently thanked his membrane that Drix was on a twelve hour work release program. He leaned against his ride, folding his arms, and letting Drix play in the boogers.
"I guarantee you there ain't nothing wrong with this dam."
Drix needed to understand that Frank was resilient. He wasn't in the best of shape, sure, but he was standing, he was healthy, and ultimately, that's all that really mattered. Drix knew this body like the back of his hand, and could sense danger a mile away. That was when he felt the dam quake below him. Now hold up. That wasn't normal. Him and Drix quickly dashed to peer to the other side of the dam, trying to see what the source of the commotion was.
"What in the name of sweet bleeding Frank?!"
"The membrane is cracking, you-"
Drix let out a grunt of frustration, before jumping over the wall, and making his way down to the bottom of the dam. Jones tried to think of what to do, when he felt his footing shift. He looked down below him, and noticed a giant crack divide his feet. This, in the entire history of the city, did the dam fall apart like this. Sure there were parts that'd come off during some bad colds, but this? Was some HEAVY damage. Way more than a common cold could produce. Sure Frank was older, and the love handle population has grown since then, but he wasn't in THAT bad of health. Not enough to equal this kinda damage. Something was in the up and up. Drix was handling it well enough, freezing the boogers as they appeared. Jones was forced a few steps back as a snot geyser appeared before him, quickly being handled by Drix. He raised his voice, to be heard over the commotion.
"Drix! Think you missed a spot!"
Hey, better than doing nothing, right? Jones was about to direct him down east, to control the spread of the damage, when something caught his eye. Someone. Towards the booger power control area, he noticed a few germs scrambling, trying to make a getaway. Ah ha. He knew this wasn't a natural incident. He pulled out his weapon, pushing towards the building.
"Immunity!"
They skidded away in their getaway cars, and Jones was about to weigh his options, when he looked up. As the machinery inside was going haywire, he found someone that definitely didn't belong in the city of Frank. He wasn't sure if it was a virus or a germ, but he what DID know, was that he didn't like the look of him. Red face, purple do, dressed in black. He put on his shades, and even though Jones couldn't see his eyes, he knew this son of a brachial was staring down at him. Confident, relaxed. A look of a real sick organism.
"What the Frank?..."
In his moment of surprise, he totally forgot he was armed. He fumbled with his piece, before taking aim. The baddie took it as a cue to leave, as he lifted his hand, kissed his claw, (and with claws that size, he had a feeling he didn't multiply with no honeys) and jumped.
"Wait a minute!"
He tried to dash forward, mentally preparing himself to catch this whack job. Bad guy or not, his duty was to protect. Germs and viruses were locked up, not killed. However, he was surprised that instead of falling to his doom, he opened his coat, and swooped out of sight. Well. That's totally not in the up and up. It only seemed to get worse from here, as he saw when the dam started to completely collapse. Before Jones could even think to get in his ride and drive away to a safer spot, everything started to crumble around him, and he found himself plummeting to what he assumed, was the end. He screamed as he cascaded down amongst the broken cartilage, and grabbed a hold of a solid chunk. He was alive, but as he started surfing on the mucus tidal wave, he wasn't sure for how long. He kept his stance steady, primary focus being to stay out of the currents, but there was difficulty in that.
"Nose hairs!!"
Like that. He felt himself moving at all types of impossible angles, desperate to avoid getting smacked down and off his crude surfboard substitute. And he was doing pretty well, dodging to the left, to the right, forwards, backwards and sideways, your boy had to maneuver through it all, and wasn't exactly rewarded for his efforts. A giant stream of mucus only rose up, and pushed him off, sending him flying, and landing on Drips. Next thing he knew, he was completely submerged in the green, gunky, chunky mess. Jones grew up on the crack, so he was used to some gross stuff, but as he felt the saltiness hit his tongue and surround his entire body, he almost wished he was back at the crack. Though as he was swept up the torrent, he found himself leaving through a different exit of the body. His screams of panic were muffled, only escaping as he somehow managed to swim to the surface, spitting out the green fluid, with Drix following suit. He tried to swim against the flow, but even muscle pill here couldn't do it. And he wasn't the best in a stressful situation either, it seemed.
"We're going to die!!!"
Honestly? This was one of the few cases were Jones agreed with him. He found himself in Drix's embrace, happy he at least wasn't going out alone. He kept his eyes open, ready to face whatever was going to happen next. He took one moment to glance at Drix, and suddenly, everything became still. Drix was holding him so tightly, it hurt. He didn't know why. Maybe it was because he too was scared, and didn't want to be scared alone. Maybe...maybe it was something else. Whatever it was, Jones was grateful for it. As time finally caught up to them, he suddenly felt themselves being whisked back into the nostril, at a speed that made his damn head spin. Right, Frank was gross. Course he'd suck it in. The one time he was happy about Frank's gross ass. He was suddenly out of the flow of mucus, and off of Drix, only to be slammed against the ground, once, twice, thrice. That hurt. But it sure as hell beat being smashed into a tissue, then promptly being tossed away. Though, he was tempted with the former fate, verses the pills blame game. He yanked himself out of the mucus, clearly not very happy.
"If this wasn't for you...ngh...none of this would've happened!"
He yanked himself free (and not bothering to help him out of course), and coughed up more mucus, clearly not used to bodily fluids.
"Now if you'll excuse me, I-"
Another cough, a harsh one this time.
"Have a nose to dry!"
He trotted off, wiping the green goo off himself as he did, and began patching up the dam, which honestly, has seen better days. He yanked himself free, finally, and assessed the damage. Oh boy. That wasn't gonna look good for him. The universe confirmed it, as a film crew was at the scene (even before the first responders, as per usual), and began taking footage, completely interested in Drix. One reporter walked up to Jones, shiny smile at the ready. Was she gonna help him up? Nope. Even if he wasn't covered in mucus.
"Officer Jones, was it? Care to comment on what happened here today? Did you start this? Like the cramp from earlier this week? What are your thoughts on the cold pill, Drixinal?"
Jones shook himself off, and only answered by spitting the mucus out of his mouth, making her smile falter, but only for a second, looking at the camera.
"As you can see, Drixinal is hard at work! With Frank P.D left to wallow in the mess!"
Oh. This was gonna be fun.
----
He knew he was in for it once they were given a lift back to cerebellum hall, (his ride was towed, and sent to the shop to be fixed up, which was exactly what he needed to top off the day) and was promptly escorted in. They were in the mayor's office, just in time to see him in the middle of a campaign speech. Course everyone that meant anything to him was here. Leah, Chief, that one gay cell that was sprucing up the mayor (he didn't exactly mean much to Jones, but he always kept checking him out, and he had to give props on the guy for good tastes). He gave some spiel about a trip to buffalo, and once the tv cut them off, he left his desk, taking a picture with some sick kid, then promptly pushing him to the side, leaving a distressed nurse to chase after him. Then it was finally their turn to be in his majesty's presence.
"Congratulations boys! Excellent work at the nose!"
Course it was directed at Drix, with Jones more or less being ignored. He was sensing a pattern in that area. Drix was snapped out of his fascination of the building when the mayor grabbed his hand, gesturing him forward, and pushing Jones out of the way. Everyone just LOVED this damn sugar pill. The mayor, the chief, hell, why not take his girl Leah while he's at it? The Mayor took him in front of the camera crew, and Jones rolled his eyes upon watching Drix flex. Big muscles, for a big ass.
"Let's get some pictures.The caption should read,
'Mayor and Pill Stop Cold... Cold.'"
Much as he would've loved to sit here, and enjoy everyone fawning after Drips, he remembered the attention shouldn't be towards any of this, but the source of the dam. He could focus on hating Drix for another time. Jones put on a smile, and dove into the situation.
"Mr. Mayor? Excuse me, sir, but we have a problem."
And of course, Phlegming didn't appreciate that. He gave him a glare,(after shaking his hand to cheese it up for the camera's of course) looking ready to kill him in front of everyone here.
"What are you talking about, Jones?"
"I think, whatever was in the sinuses, is a lot more than a common cold."
Then Drix, and his alka seltzer looking ass, decided to start giving him lip.
"Don't listen to Jones. His diagnostic skills are remedial at best!"
This pill was so lucky there was cameras here, or he'd bust a cap in his advil wannabe behind. He stood up straighter, arms raised and ready to remind the pill just who's fault all of this was.
"YOU'RE the little cherry aspirin who iced a key witness to a viral attack!!"
Oh boy was SHAKING mad. Good! This damn pill had no place here, in his Frank, acting like he owned the place. This was gonna be settled one way or another.
"That was an accident!!"
"The kind of accident a time-release dipstick would have!"
Neither of them particularly noticed the mayor being caught in the scuffle, wedged in between them, and at the moment, neither of them could care less. It was clear Drix wasn't ready to face the consequences of HIS actions! He turned, threw his hands in the air, in his own little fit, and folded his arms, back turned to him.
"I am sick of you! That's it, I can't work with him!"
"I can't work with you!"
He didn't deserve to be here. He couldn't work well with the body, and all its inhabitants? He shouldn't be in this sort of business. Osmosis didn't even want to look at his back, let alone his damn face, and he turned, arms folded. He could play this game too, just you watch. Jones suddenly felt himself be pushed a bit, and was ready to throw some hands, when Leah came to their aid. Much as she was cold, girl cared about the greater good. He dug that about her.
"Officers, please. Jones, what virus?"
Another reason why he liked her. Girl gave him a chance. Something not many would bother doing. He turned around, finding such relief that she gave his voice a shot.
"The virus that torched the throat! It caused those snot crests I was surfing!"
And just when Jones thought he was calm, Drix spoke up again, ready to dish out the blame to everyone BUT himself.
"They were caused by the sneeze, which was caused by YOU!"
This guy even had the GALLBLADDER, to put his hands on him, jabbing his finger into Jones's chest. He lifted his face up higher, and patted his own chest, ready to throw down, if this pill EVER dared to get up in his space again.
"Then why was that viral-looking mother fleeing the scene? Huh? Tell me!"
He noticed Drix's face upon him finishing his sentence. He wasn't combative, angry, but… curious. No way. Was this pill taking him seriously? They both broke their gazes from each other, focusing on Leah.
"We should put the city on full alert. Liquids, bed rest. Just to be safe."
"We'll do no such thing!"
Course the mayor would have issues with taking a load off. It wasn't his place to be talking politics, but he didn't think Phlegming belonged in office. This place would be so much better off with Leah in charge. Plus, he loved himself a woman in power. Phlegming in power? Not so much.
"I won't postpone our trip, just because the white blood cell with the worst record in Frank, thought he saw something."
He took Jones by the collar, and yanked him down to his level. Jones was squishy, and able to be moved around, but at the mayor's height, being bent so damn low almost hurt his back.
"Listen here. Keep those opinions in that mushy head,"
He let the sentence hang off as he pinched Jones's face, emphasizing his point.
"Or you'll find yourself in our next nosebleed. Understood?"
He dismissed him with a pat to the face, and shoved away. He put on his fake smile for Drix, and took him by the hand.
"Son, I apologize for all this.Now, why don't we find you another, more capable officer to work with?"
Drix took a look at Jones, then back at the mayor. He didn't like Drix, but he knew he wasn't a mean enough pill to look happy about an unfortunate end for Jones. He knew it was bad, when Leah felt bad for him. He could see the pain on her face, and felt..defeated. It wasn't that Jones didn't try. It wasn't that he didn't want to protect his home. It wasn't that he didn't want nothing more but to be the best in his field. It wasn't for the recognition, as much as it would've been nice. No. He wanted to be the best for Frank. His great granddaddy fought the measles, grandma made peace with the chicken pox. Protecting Frank was in his chromosomes. Or...so he thought. He'd be lucky to work in the bowels at this point. He was going to bury his face in his coat, and just walk out of here with whatever dignity he had, when Drix spoke.
"Uh… Sir, if it's all the same to you, I think I'll stay with Jones."
The mayor looked at him like he was the biggest damn fool in the entire body. And honestly, he just might be. He was surprised, and honestly, so was Leah. She looked at Jones like he just won the damn lottery.
"Wow…"
Wow was right. This pill WAS a fool. Jones felt relief wash over him, only to have a feeling of shame take its place. He appreciated the shot, immensely, but he knew why Drix chose this. Out of pity. Why else would he stick with Frank's top loser? Phlegming shrugged, and turned in his chair.
"Suit yourself."
Translation:'you dug your own grave'. The walk back to the car was a bit of a haze, lost in confusion. They were in the bloodstream soon enough, with no sound in between them. Jones didn't even feel like putting on his tracks. He turned to look at Drix, who was just staring out the window. He didn't look burdened. Didn't look cheated or defeated. It didn't make sense. He clearly didn't like Jones. Why wasn't he upset? He took a deep breath, and forced himself to say something. A thank you, maybe.
"You didn't have to do that. I don't need your sympathy."
Okay, not a thank you, but it was far more honest, at least. Drix rolled his eyes, as if Jones said something absolutely stupid.
"This isn't about sympathy. I'm here to make Frank feel better. If this alleged virus impedes my mission, I must pursue it."
He looked over that pill face, looking for some sign of lying. He couldn't find it, and Jones knew a liar when he saw one, just as easily as he could spot a fine set of legs. This pill...was giving him a chance. That's all Jones wanted. He looked at his eyes for a minute too long, and quickly looked away.
"Yeah, whatever."
The pause in between them didn't last very long. Then came the question.
"Hey Jones? What did the mayor mean when he said you had a record?"
He wished that just this once, Drix wasn't so curious about the goings on in the body, himself included.
"...you did something terrible, didn't you?"
Damn straight he did. Everyone in the body thought it was the worst thing to happen to Frank since the cramp of those Zumbo classes. He sighed, and got mentally prepared for yet another person to criticize his choices.
"Sometimes being too careful, is all it takes."
"How so?"
He really wasn't going to leave it at that, huh? He didn't want to speak, but Drix gave him a chance, he deserved to know what kinda cell he just threw a bone to.
"I was cruising the digestive tract, just minding my own business. Outside was Shane's science fair. Everyone was excited. The winner would get their picture in the local paper."
He let the sentence hang as he turned to the next lane. Shanes mom had died so recently, it took a toll on her, and Frank. He missed her, as did Shane. Next to Frank, Shane was the only other person Jones ever really cared about. And it affected her. Her social life, her school work. The fact that she wanted to participate in such an event so soon, was such a huge step towards recovery for her. Jones remembered seeing that in the news, and going out to drinks that night with the rest of the precinct. They were proud of her.
"I was in the kidneys while a 6-31 was in progress. That's incoming shellfish. I went to the stomach, to be safe."
He remembered that day. Jones was somewhat new to the force, ready to prove himself and his commitment to the force. And he remembered when he saw him. On board the grayest, slimiest looking shellfish he's ever seen. He loved Frank, and would do anything for him. But he had his dumbass moments. Like eating random food whenever it was physically possible. The parasite was big, green, with rows and rows of sharp teeth. The smell of the seafood made it impossible to tell, but if he had to guess, he'd have to say it was a bad case of Vibrio. If he got in, he could only imagine what'd happen. He was talking diarrhea, skin lesions, all that bad stuff.
"And then I saw him. He was on the clammiest oyster I'd ever seen. There was no time for questions. I did what I had to do. You can guess which photo
made it to the paper the next day. Overnight, Frank became the town's laughing stock.The photo ran in every daily across the country. He got fired from his jobat the pea soup factory. Lucky for us, Bob hooked up Frank with a job at the zoo. It was a 90% cut in pay, but it was the best we could do. Needless to say, none of this helped Shane. And as for me, I got suspended for unnecessary force. Since then, every day I wonder: 'Did I do the right thing?'"
He let his words hang, memories coming back to him. He remembered barely scraping by. He remembered having to constantly borrow money from Bob. It was shameful. The things they had to resort to, the number of times the electricity and water got cut off. Shane, having to use the school showers. The nights they had to do homework by candlelight. The things she desperately wanted, but couldn't afford. One particular moment hit Jones, and Shane, real hard. Frank had over spent on his food budget, buying snacks that looked just too tempting. He didn't have enough to buy Shane's mother her favorite bouquet of flowers, from her favorite shop. It only happened once, yes, but sometimes, one moment was all it took, to do damage. One button push. One parasite. One white blood cell. He braced himself to be scorned and scoffed at, for being the one who single handedly messed up Frank's life. Deix thought on it for a moment, before nodding.
"You know, Jones, from the description, it sounds like you were justified."
"Excuse me?"
Did...did he hear that right? He sniffed, forcing back whatever tears were about to pop out, and looked back up at Drix. He...wasn't joking. He wasn't playing. No sarcasm in sight.
"Oysters are a breeding ground for dangerous bacteria."
"They ARE!! That's what I've been trying to tell everybody! I never thought you'd be on my side."
"I never thought you'd be right."
Jones studied his face. Not even Leah, spoke with such confidence about his actions. It didn't last long, but Drix had a small, small smile on his face. Maybe Jones was wrong. Maybe...Drix DID belong here. By his side. He could get used to this guy.
-----
Jones pulled up to the street. They were at the liver, where the scum of the body liked to hang out. Jones wasn't no snitch, he knew not everyone had the privilege of being a part of law enforcement. It's why he kept it all on the hush hush, only shining his badge when it was absolutely necessary. He got out of the car, motioning towards this group of gambling groupies.
"Chicken pox fights. See that dude?"
"Hey! A virus! We should arrest him!"
"No man!"
He stood in front of him, and used two hands to stop him. He'd give this guy one thing, he didn't play around with who he thought was a bad guy. If only he knew them like he did.
"That USED to be a virus! now he's on our side. That's Chill, he used to be a flu shot."
Drix glared at him the entire explanation, only calming down towards the end. Not gonna lie, Jones could appreciate that stern look behind focused on someone else for a change.
"Thats funny, he doesn't look fluish."
Jones rolled his eyes, before slapping on his shades, and fixing his jacket.
"Just stay here and watch the maestro work."
He could feel Drix shaking his head at him. Not something he wasn't used to, not by a long shot. He walked towards the bundle of baddies, and brought out his badge.
"Chill, chill! Don't y'all know pock fights are against the law?"
It was almost funny, how quickly everyone scrambled to get away from him. It took a lot for Jones, to resist abusing that much respect. But at the end of the day, everything he did was for Frank, not him. Chill however, didn't exactly appreciate it.
"Hey hey! Where you all going?! Thanks a lot, junior. You just cost me twenty."
"Money won't be your problem if you don't tell me about the sinuses."
He went in this as confident as he could be, but Chill here was older, with more street than him. Even worse. He wasn't at all scared of Jones. Course it made sense, given he knew bigger, badder germs, and most of the underworks of the grimy parts of Frank.
"I was injected into this body to rat on influenza only. And this don't sound like influenza to me. Now beat it."
Boy wanted to play today, huh? Alright. He could play. He grabbed him by his collar, lifting him up to his face.
"I bet Johnny Streptococcus and the Melanoma family will be interested to hear about your flu shot work."
Chill looked scared, but only for a second. He was crafty, and it made sense. Shots often knew how to dance around these sorts of things. He pushed Jones off of him, and chuckled, as if it was Jones's first day on the job.
"You can't jack me on that, brother! I'm in the virus protection program."
He fixed his suit, and started to walk away from Jones, most likely to his next hustle. No, if Jones lost him now, there's no WAY he could find his virus. He was considering resorting to begging for a moment, when Chill was suddenly slammed against the wall behind them, the end of Drix's gun shoved right into his mouth.
"You, virus. Children's strength ought to take care of you."
Jones looked at Drix, in surprise for a moment. Drix had no reason to go after this guy. But...he was doing so anyway. For Frank. As clueless as he was, the boy was on the same track he was in, and honestly? He respected him for that. Finally putting those big, bad muscles to use. Jones's grin was the size of Frank's eyes, when the idea came to him. Taking a moment to be a bit smug from his genius, he carefully sauntered to Drix's side, ready to finally get his information.
"Uh oh, you done it now, Chill. He's a psycho cop. It's too late to spill it. You had your chance,"
He winked at Drix, who was clearly at a loss in the situation.
"This guy just off the Thorazine!"
It was weird, seeing Drix's face at this moment. It was a lot like Leah's, mainly when he did something stupid, but not as...tired. He looked sort of amused, more than anything. And it was refreshing, having someone NOT look at you like some screw up.
"He's cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs. He's going EI Pollo Loco on your crazy behind!"
It took a lot for Jones NOT to laugh at Drix's crazy face. If he didn't know this guy any better, he would've assumed he WAS crazy. But it was kinda flattering, having this guy put so much effort into the plan. Jones wasn't much of a team player, but he didn't mind Drix sporting his colors.
"I can't look, I just can't!!"
Jones hid his face, and bit his bottom lip, trying not to lose it as Chill started to completely panic. He had no idea that Drix looked over at Jones for a moment, ideally his bottom lip, before shaking his head, and lifting up one of his ammunition tablets, for Chill to plainly see. Once Drix pulled away, letting him fall to the floor, Jones finally peaked back up, watching Chill scramble.
"A-all right! The guy's big time. He goes by the name of Thrax. Go to that new place. The Zit, on the head. You can't miss it. It's huge. They're meeting tonight. I'm out. But you didn't hear that from me. You didn't hear that from me!!"
He opened the sewer crate, and pushed himself through, screaming as he plummeted to the even more unsavory parts of Frank. Jones grinned up at Drix, and was kinda surprised to see the same grin returned. No one grinned at him like that. No one...laughed WITH him for a change. Felt good. Felt damn good. Him and Drix really did get off on the wrong foot before. They turned, and started making their way back towards the car.
"Wahoo!! Next time, I'LL be the bad cop!"
"You ARE a bad cop."
"...who you calling a bad cop?"
He asked, as Drix got comfy in the passenger seat. Jones scowled for a minute, before suddenly laughing. He walked up to Drix, hand in the air.
"Ah!!! Ya got me there, Drips! You got jokes, you got jokes! Gimme some!!"
Drix looked at his hand, with a look far more akin to Leah's, before sighing.
"Jones, get in the car."
"...damn. Some extra strength cold pill huh? Too cold, man, too cold. Imma Frank take a tylenol next time."
He got into the driver's seat, completely unaware of Drix's chuckle. They really did see each other in a much more respectful light. If only they knew, they'd be getting way closer, way sooner.
-------
When Chill said this place was big, he wasn't kidding. By 2:20 PM, they had pulled into an alleyway at the forehead, just a bit offside.
"My, what big zits he has. How does this happen?"
"You wash your face with fried chicken, that's how."
Drix looked at him like he was joking, but he really wasn't. Frank got his protein from fried chicken and Slim Jim's. The only color in his diet was Fanta, and skittles. Only grains he got were in beer. You got the idea. They got out of the car, and scoped the scene. It was buzzing, with a literal line to get in. Wasn't as chill as a newly formed blackhead either. No, places as swelled, and as greasy as this, wasn't ever fit for the citizens of Frank. He was thinking of a plan, when he heard Drix pump his weapon. He put a hand over his chest, and just now noticed how little effort he had to give, to get Drix's attention.
"Woah woah. Where do you think you're going?"
"To get our cootie!"
Oh boy. This guy was lucky he liked him, or he'd send him in there just to watch the pill get devoured.
"Looking like THAT? they'll tear you apart. You better get spiffy!"
"Spiffy?"
Drix was curious by the word, but found his attention more towards the club than anything else. While his back was turned, he got himself spruced up. Pushed his eyes together, gave himself a new do, stretched out his arms and legs, and bam! Osmosis jones P.D, turned into Osmosis jones, the virus! Drix definitely seemed surprised as he turned around, not expecting it.
"Peep this. Check it out!"
Drix moved closer, inspecting Jones's face. Buddy didn't respect personal space, clearly, but now that he got to know the guy, he didn't mind. He was curious. More he knew, the better anyway.
"Pliable cellular dynamics. What an ingenious defense mechanism."
Drix was looking at him like he did something special. When really, every white blood cell could do this. He wouldn't lie though, it was nice having someone look up at him with admiration. As...close as his face was. Seriously. Dude was way close. Had this been earlier, he could've knocked the yellow off his face. But he trusted Drix, and let him inspect. He didn't mind it, nor did he mind the cherry smell. In fact, he was kinda starting to like it. Drix finally did pull away from him (leaving Jones with a nose full of cherry), having an idea.
"Oh oh! Let me try!!"
No one could mark the guy down on enthusiasm. Honestly? The smile he gave, just now, was probably the most emotion he'd seen on his face, since he got here. And just because Jones did something he thought was cool. No way you couldn't feel special after something like that. He nodded, and gestured him to go on. Wouldn't hurt to let the guy try. Drix grabbed the top and bottom part of his face, and after a loud, grinding sound, produced...whatever the Frank that was. Maybe it DID hurt to let him try.
"What do you think?"
What Jones THOUGHT was 'please don't ever do that again, that was the scariest thing I've ever seen'. Instead of speaking his mind, he gave a polite smile, and tried not to disappoint the big guy.
"I...think you should guard the car."
"Oh no, this is my mission too."
He grunted as he put himself back together. Much better.
"I INSIST on going in with you."
"Alright… But we gotta get you something to wear."
He couldn't take the car and drive anywhere for a disguise, it'd look suspicious to come right back. What did he have on hand? Empty box of doughnuts, a few tapes...he snapped his fingers. He reached into the trunk, and pulled the witness out. Little guy was STILL frozen. Impressive, honestly. He reached up, and set him on his head.
"Perfect."
"Jones? Are you sure we should be using a witness like this?"
"I don't hear him complaining. Do you?"
Drix gave him a look, and Jones shrugged. He had a point, no one could deny that. He grabbed Drix by his arm, and tugged him forward, not noticing his yellow part of his face turn pink. By the time he got to the front, he put on the meanest look he could, and thanked Frank he had no problems getting in. The inside was just as seedy as the outside. Music was bumping, germs were dancing, drinking. Not a bad turn out.
"Are you sure this is working?"
Drix called out over the music. Jones could understand though, he was surprised it was working too.
"Oh yeah, trust me, it's perfect."
He guided them further in, with Drix clearly not being comfortable or sure of the environment. It was probably Drix's confused look that made a couple of goons look over at them, clearly suspicious. They weren't the only ones dancing, afterall.
"We got company. Be cool."
Drix gave a wild look around, trying to find some enemies. Guy couldn't be cool to save his life. But on the plus side, guy was eager to learn. Jones stepped onto the dance floor, grabbing Drix's attention.
"Try to relax! Fit in! Shake a tail cell or something!"
Drix looked behind him for said tail cell, curious when he found nothing. He shook his head a little.
"I don't dance. I...have no left feet."
Drix looked away from Jones, rubbing the back of his head. Jones didn't know this, but Drix was a bit embarrassed. To him, Jones was fascinating. Misunderstood, cool, and, when you get right down to it, a fine officer of the law. And Drix was just...a pill. He was so unprepared in areas Jones excelled. Essentially, Drix thought Jones was incredibly cool, while he himself was...well. Lame. This hardly seemed like the place to say such things, anyway. Jones didn't think like that at all really, as he just chuckled, clearly acting surprised.
"You don't dance? Don't tell you ain't never gotten jiggy with it!"
"I uh...don't believe I have.."
Drix held his hands together, meekly, and gently swayed side to side, and even kept his head down, not wanting Jones to be too embarrassed to be seen with him.
"Come on, baby, give me a little bit of this."
Jones moved his new body around a bit, and despite Drix's nerves, he decided to at least try. Who could say no to him, ultimately?
"Oh...alright."
He lifted his hands up a bit, watching Jones move, and clearly enjoy himself, before trying. He was slow going at first, clearly not knowing what he was doing, but Jones didn't put him down. Instead, he encouraged him further, dancing right alongside him.
"That's it, baby!!"
Something about Jones calling him that, something about him offering support, filled Drix up with confidence, which only made him move harder. Was he good? Probably not. But he FELT good.
"Don't let it settle at the bottom baby!"
Drix hadn't had this much fun in...forever really. He felt liberated, and despite the fact that he twirled so hard, he knocked a tray of drinks down, this didn't detour Jones from egging him on.
"Alright! You stay here and practice! You need it. If not back in five, you come looking for me, okay?"
Boy REALLY did need to work on his moves. But hey, with enough practice, he could take him out to the public on a non case related basis. They'd make a date of it, even. He shook his head a bit as he made it to the bar. Date probably wasn't the right word. You called it a date when you thought someone was FINE. He looked around for a second before he sat down, trying not to be too grossed out by the pimple poppers across the room. By Frank he was gonna be sick. He looked up at the guy behind the counter once he sat down.
"Barkeep, what do you got?"
He watched this big blob add a combination of whatever was in a bucket, whatever was in that jar, and ...whatever he was made of, and shake it all up, putting it in a mug and sliding it over to Jones. He watched it bubble and dribble down the sides. You ever bubble slime? That was essentially the look of it. The germ glared at him.
"You got a problem with that?"
"No. It's just the way I like it:Extra disgusting."
Oh the things he did for Frank. He tossed his head back, letting it pour into his mouth. Correction. NOW he was going to be sick. He forced himself to choke down a concoction of what tasted like blood, old cheese curds, cola, mayonnaise, and copper. It took everything not to throw it back up, but he made himself swallow. Since he kept his cool, he was able to notice a pair of particularly nasty germs walk to a back room. He waited till they were a decent way in, before following. Next thing he knew, he was in a meeting room, filled with a bunch of baddies, sitting around a table. With HIM at the helm. The guy named Thrax. He got a much better look at him now, and was even hearing him speak. He forced himself to keep calm as he walked inside, with no one appearing to notice. So far so good.
"Three teams will move through the cranial artery and one through the nasal passages."
He pointed at a diagram set up on the table, an entire map of Frank, detailed down to every vein.
"We are going to the brain, baby. And we are stealing one of these."
He pulled out a black chain, and upon squeezing it, showed a pulsing, purple bead.
"This sucker comes from a place called the hypothalamus gland. T-"
"The hippa hoppa what a mus?"
Jones sat back quickly, so Thrax couldn't tell who was talking. Thrax sighed, before pointing towards it with his wooden pointer.
"Hypothalamus. Hypothalamus."
A model of the brain popped up, and split in half, showing the DNA strand.
"Controls the temperature for the body. We are going to march in and take the prize. Frank's gonna heat up like a sidewalk on a summer day."
As he tapped on his stick, with that long, slender claw, it dissolved, right in front of him, much to the delight of Thrax. He continued on.
"Now all of this is going on TONIGHT. So I want everyone to be prepared."
Tonight? Holy cellulite, Jones caught wind of this just in time.
"Tonight?!"
Realizing he spoke in panic, he hid himself in front of one particularly large germ, and made his mouth move, as if he was talking.
"Uh, can we do it next week?Me and Madcow got tickets to Wrestlemania."
Thrax didn't seem happy by this. He clearly fought against his anger, and showed everyone the DNA chain again.
"See this? This DNA bead comes from a girl in Riverside, California.Didn't like to wash her hands.Took me three whole weeks.And this one. Nice lady in Detroit, Motown. Six days flat. Then there's this old guy in Philly. I killed him in seventy-two hours."
Thrax walked around the table as he went along, with the swagger of a buy who clearly didn't bluff.
"Yeah, I'm getting better as I go, but the problem is I never set a record. Until my man Frank, that is. I'll take him down in 48 hours. Get my chapter in the medical books!!"
So his goal, was to kill Frank. To get recognized in the medical books. Oh no. Oh no. Him? Against ALL these guys? He couldn't handle this alone!
"Excuse me. Excuse me. I got one more question here. Is there anything that, say, a white blood cell do anything to stop this evil plan?You know, hypothetically speaking, that is."
He did NOT like how Thrax approached him. Thrax had now knelt down to his level, with a hand around his shoulder, DNA beads resting on his chest. He got up close to him, looking Jones in his eye. He smelled too. Not bad, exactly, but smelled. Smelled of something hot, burning. Like if you left a cinnamon candle in the oven for way too long. He smelled of burnt, with sweet undertones, essentially.
" And, who are you?"
Oh no. Quick Jones, think of something!!
"Who am I? Who am I? I'm … uh… A bad, booty-shaking pickinosis.Yeah. That's who I am."
"Hmm. Never heard of you."
It was enough to at least get Thrax off of him. Jones decided to play himself up some more, maybe get some respect out of these guys.
"You just got here. But ask any of them, when it comes to illing, bad, booty-shaking pickinosis stands above the rest."
He high fived this germ, who looked like he was being left hanging all day. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to appreciate it.
"Ow that hurt!"
He smacked the back side of Jones, and his face slammed onto the counter, and not only did his disguise come off, but his badge literally flew out of his pocket. Of course.
"That ain't no germ.That's a cop!"
Next thing Jones knew, he was being held hostage (literally) by a group of germ thugs. Thrax sauntered on over, clearly happy with the situation.
"Well, what do we have here? An officer of Frank's finest. Somebody lay down a towel,"
He chuckled, brandishing his claw right next to Jones's face. He felt the heat radiated from the tip, and Jones squirmed away as best as he could.
"This is going to be meeeessy~"
Jones was scared of death. Course he was. Any germ, virus, or cell that said otherwise was a liar. But he wasn't just scared of his own death. He was scared of everyone else's. Leah. Chief. Frank. And-
Suddenly the wall exploded, and Jones couldn't help but grin. Drix!!!
"Attention, germs. You are surrounded. Uh huh. Uh huh. Uh huh huh, surrounded!"
Fool was STILL dancing, even in the middle of a rescue. If it weren't for the fact that Jones was still being held down by bad guys, he'd call it cute.
"Yo, Hammer. You can stop dancing."
He spoke through gritted teeth, trying to show that he could LITERALLY be killed any second now. This moron kept dancing for a second, before realizing the situation.
"Oh."
He pointed his weapon, and that was just the distraction he needed. He slipped from their grasp, and went straight for the eyes. Literally, Jones jabbed a germ in the eye. Yeah, your boy didn't play. He sent another guy down by tugging on his lip, and letting it smack himself in the face. He took the opportunity of freedom to slide over to Drix's side, ready to get his hands dirty.
"What kept you?!"
No way had it JUST been five minutes. The witness, out of ALL times, chose to suddenly thaw out, and once he did, it took one look at Thrax, and confirmed his suspicions.
"Es el muerte rojo! No me mates!"
It leapt off Drix's head, and Jones had to fight the urge to do his own little dance. He was right from the get go! Yes!! Unfortunately, he didn't have much time to gloat. The germs closed in, only to shrink away upon Drix pulling out the BIG capsule.
"Only for use against the most stubborn cold symptoms."
Hell yeah! Drix was gonna annihilate them! Massacre their sorry behinds! Er...whenever he was ready, that was. Drix was trying to shove it in his arm gun, only, it wasn't doing any good.
"Darn...child proof caps."
"Get them!!"
And of course, EVERYONE tackled him, rather than his stupid partner here. He was in the middle of a giant doggy pile two seconds flat, while Drix struggled with the damn thing. He slid out of it, thankfully, managing to kick one guy in the face, then another. He was ready to make it three for three, when he was suddenly attacked from the left. A good, hard punch clocked him, hard enough to rearrange his face.
"Why you hit so hard?"
Suddenly the little one, the one with the weird mouth for a hand, had him on the table, at knife point. He looked up, trying to still have concentration to keep this knife from rearranging his beautiful face, just in time to see Drix get attacked by a damn chair. He was completely unfazed, trying to get the damn thing in his arm still. He was built like a house, and was about as smart as one. He choked out his words as the guy was strangling him, trying to get the attention of other.
"Drix, I could use a little help here."
Nothing. Not even a glance. Whatever, tic tac couldn't do it, he'll take matters into his own hands.
"Give me that!!"
He yanked it from his hands, pulled the pin out with his teeth, and let it fly. The dude finally got off of him, going off to his little buddies to cower. Jones was pretty proud of himself, and stood there, gloating, when suddenly Drix grabbed him, pulling Jones close to his chest as tight as he could. Everything suddenly went white. Static. Silent.
----
When Jones came to, Drix was there, shaking himself free of the snow. Speaking of snow, it was EVERYWHERE, far as the eye could see. The zit was gone, and every piece of scum along with it.
"Thanks. You saved my cytoplasm in there."
They both looked up, where the zit once was. Giant hole, but nothing the scabs can't cover up. It wasn't that important, especially not compared to the end result.
"Mr.Thrax has left the building!"
They did it! Him and this giant pill absolutely did it! Oh the thing's this'll do for his name! He'll finally be taken seriously! Handle his cases WITHOUT the chief on his nucleus. Jones felt free. Liberated. So much so, he felt he was justified in his own little dance.
"My name is WHAT?!"
He raised his hands in the air, and to his delight, Drix joined right on in.
"Ozzy!"
"My name is WHO?!"
"JONES!"
"MY NAME IS AH, OSMOSIS JONES!!!"
Drix even got into the dance a bit himself. Hey, few minutes on that dance floor did wonders for the big guy.
"Alright, now let's call for a scab, and head to the precinct."
This guy did a lot for him, in the time span that he's been here. So as he got in the car with him, he decided to take a bit of a detour. Instead of pulling over to cerebellum hall, he kept going. Drix raised a brow as he watched it zoom on by.
"Uh? Jones? We missed the-"
"Hey, chill pill! I called it in already. Me and you? We deserve a break. We'll go back. You deserve a little somethin."
The place he had in mind was by the ingrown toe. Yeah it was a bit of a drive, but it was worth it. Shabby little place, the cells working there were a little on the nasty side, but they sold some damn fine drinks, and the best toe fungus tacos he's ever had. They tasted better than they sounded, trust him. He left Drix in the car for a minute, and came out with a box, two drinks, and a bag of doughnut holes, which he had to carry in his mouth. He walked to his side of the ride, and tried to speak, only to recall it was being in use.
"Ofen tha cah dor"
"I'm...sorry?"
He gestured towards the car door, and only after a few tries did Drix finally get it, opening the door, and helping Jones get in. Jones sighed as he sat down, shutting his door.
"Okay, so I got us some toe fungus tacos, trust me they're actually pretty good, some drinks, and doughnut holes. Eat up."
Drix didn't move anything but his brow. Jones helped himself, not wanting these to get cold. He only got these on special occasions, mainly because they overcharged out the ass crack. He was halfway through his taco when he realized Drix was staring at him.
"Whatchu you looking at?"
He asked, wiping the toe cheese off his face.
"I-I'm sorry. I'm just...confused. why are we doing this?"
"Because!! We had to celebrate how my boy did in there!"
Drix seemed amused by it, a bit bashful, even.
"How...I did?"
"Yeah man! I mean, I could've done it by myself, totally, but you? You made it smooth sailing."
Drix's raised brow said he believed otherwise.
"Don't give me that look, eat your damn taco."
"Im.. not sure if I should be eating. I'm supposed to be protecting the body, I-"
"You did! Come on big arms, you did good! WE did good!"
Drix finally gave in, a bit shy from the sudden flux of attention. He was surprised to find himself devouring his tacos, much to the amusement of Jones.
"Woo! Look at you go man! Big boy gotta eat!"
He smacked him on his arm, and kicked his feet up onto the others lap. Drix was clearly puzzled, but Jones didn't let him comment. Mainly because he had comments of his own.
"Seriously though, you were like a machine today! Dude you got hit by a CHAIR today, didn't even flinch!"
"I got hit by a chair today?"
"BOY DIDN'T EVEN KNOW!!"
He put his hand to the side of his face as he shouted, as if to announce it to anyone nearby. He chuckled as he looked up, taco wrapper in his hand still.
"You, my dude, got hit by a chair, snuck into a virus club, and threatened Chill into confessing. I ain't gonna lie, thought those biceps was all placebo, but you proved me wrong!"
"J-Jones…"
Drix was just a big puppy, essentially. He was big, strong, but was totally into being praised. He had to cover the yellow portion of his face as it turned pink, clearly flustered.
"Ah don't give me that modesty! Boy got MUSCLES on MUSCLES, and you should be proud of it! I dont have em, because if I did, there wouldn't be enough honeys for the rest of y'all, but still! My man is working it! Come on, flex for me, baby!"
"Jones I really don't think-"
"Ah, you were flexing it up in the mayor's office! Come on, where's the love for your man here? Come oooon!!!"
Drix was clearly uncertain, but after the grin on Jones's face, he decided it'd be rude not to give him at least a little something. So, despite being incredibly embarrassed over it, he gave his signature Herculean pose, much to the amusement of Jones, who clapped and hollered, clearly enjoying himself. Drix tried not to think about the idea of Jones actually liking his muscles, instead just pinning it towards their successful mission. He switched poses, flexing both of his arms in front of him, with Jones only showing more support with loud, almost annoying clapping. He relaxed after a second, taking a sip from his drink, then sighing, clearly content.
"Ah, you're alright man. You're sticking with me."
"But my work lease?"
"Ah, we'll get you a good lawyer, work something out. I like ya, muscles. And I usually rock it solo, so feel honored."
"I...do actually. Feels like just hours ago, you wanted me away from you."
"I did. Because you a pain in my nucleus. But I like ya, you're cool."
"Well I mean, it IS my job."
"Nah nah man. You're cool! Like we could hang kinda cool. Not cold. COOL."
"YOU think I'M ...cool?"
"How many times I gotta say it, pill?"
"...once more?"
"Alright alright, because you did good today. You, Drix, are one cool cataract. I- woah, Drips? You good, man?"
"Mhmm."
He really wasn't. He was covering his face with his hand, practically whimpering into his palm. Jones, thought HE was cool? Sure he was called 'helpful' and 'relieving', but not...cool. Jones grinned, and sat up, giving his arm a light smack.
"Let me guess. You ain't use to that."
"N-no...I'm sorry. I just...didn't think YOU'D ever call me cool."
"Why not?"
"Well...because YOU'RE cool Jones."
"Boy don't I know it. But still, means a lot coming from ya, pill. Now come on, you got a fine looking capsule, quit covering up."
Somehow, Drix felt sick. He was burning up, and his insides felt queasy. Jones thought he was cool, he had a hand on his arm, and he was trying to pry his hand from his face. Drix refused to budge however, not wanting Jones to change his mind and find him a nerd. He carefully parted his fingers to look at Jones. He was looking up at him, smiling, holding onto him.
"Jones?"
"Oh look who stopped being dormant on me. What's up, Drips?"
"WHY do you think I'm cool?..."
"Why do I- boy we JUST got this friendship thing going on! You WANT me to unleash the same moves that I let loose on those germs? You're my partner! My buddy! You got more muscles on you than all of Frank, you're a chill pill, you got my back, and...well. You did something only one other person ever did for me. You and Leah. Y'all gave me a shot. And I can't begin to tell ya how much that means to me."
Drix finally put his hand down, despite not being any less flustered. But Jones was smiling at him. Jones was smiling at him, his hand holding one of his red fingers, the other one on his barrel. There was...such a warmth inside of himself, looking at that smile on that blue, stretchy face of his. He didn't know why, but the heat in his chest, the light mood...made him do something he didn't understand. He gripped Jones's hand, and leaned down, pressing his lips onto Jones's. Jones let out a muffled sound into his mouth, completely surprised. Don't get him wrong, he'd been kissed before, but, by blood cells. White blood cells. And once with a virus (not a story he was gonna delve into), but not with a pill. He pulled away, finding the need to keep his hands up, almost defensively.
"Yo yo yo yo! What the FRANK was that?!"
"I'm...sorry?"
"I said, what the FRANK WAS THAT?!"
Drix didn't put together exactly WHAT happened, until he slowly replayed it in his mind. He was happy, he was rattled, and just so wooed by compliments, that he KISSED Osmosis Jones. His new partner, who just called him cool. And he already messed it up. Panic quickly set in, and he scrambled, completely ill prepared for this situation.
"I-I'm sorry! Oh gosh I did NOT mean to do that!!"
"Didn't mean what, the hand holding, or the KISS?! WHAT THE BUTTCRACK, MAN?!"
"I'M SORRY!! I didn't know why I did that!! Y-you just kept smiling, a-and complimenting me, a-and it just felt like the right thing to do, a-and!-"
Drix was in an actual panic. He tried desperately to get out of the car, not really able to focus, and only shaking the vehicle as he suddenly forgot where the exit was. Jones, honestly concerned about what damage this bull could do to his ride, started to flip himself. They never exactly prepared you for this sort of thing back at the academy. Drix was gonna mess up his ride if he didn't think fast.
"Drix! Drix! Cool it man! It's chill!"
"No it's not! I-am INCREDIBLY humiliated! I'm so sorry! I'll just be leaving! M-maybe I'll be in time to catch the bladder! Excuse me, I just need to figure out how to get out of h-"
Jones didn't know if it was the ONLY reason, but the worry of Drix doing permanent damage to his wheels, was definitely a huge factor in wrapping his arms around Drix's head, and pressing his lips against Drix's. It was the pills turn to let a sound of surprise flood Jones's lips. Osmosis kept the kiss going, just until Drix put his hands down, relieved that his world was no longer crumbling around him. Jones slowly pulled away, right when Drix was contemplating holding Jones's face. Jones was no longer in his seat, but right on top of Drix. He really WAS in a hurry to get him to relax, wasn't he? Jones stared up at him, with Drix reciprocating. Both were searching for some clue. Some idea as to where to take this. Jones hadn't moved, hadn't removed his hold on Drix. The pill was so clueless for a situation like this. Was Jones waiting for him to initiate something? Was Jones thinking about what he wanted?
"Uh...Jonsie?"
And that was the final straw. Jones sighed, as if exhausted, before letting go of the others neck, (or lack thereof) before starting to take off his jacket. Something about Jones taking it off, while being on his lap, made Drix want to leave yet again. For some reason, he felt as if Jones was cross with him. As Jones tossed his jacket to the driver's seat, Drix put his hands up, as if caught in the act of some crime.
"Jones, I'm terribly sorry! Really, I-"
"Look. We ain't gonna work right if we don't get this situated. We're gonna fix this now, alright?"
"Jones, please, I don't want to fight with you, I-"
"You one dense pill. We ain't fighting."
"...then...what are we doing?"
"For a college boy, you dumb."
Before Drix could be offended, he felt lips on his own again, which was just as good as an apology, honestly. Drix started to test his limits, keeping a grip on Jones's thighs. He wasn't hard, like the pills he'd been with previously. His form didn't keep its shape when he gently squeezed, and he found that yet another reason to be fascinated by Jones. He was bashful, in regards to the situation, but overall eager. This was a wonderful opportunity to know more about blood cells all together. One thing he realized? He certainly enjoyed how squishy they felt in his palms, and from the way Jones was moaning into his mouth, he could assume he wasn't the only one who was liking it. With his barrel hand, he carefully allowed himself to explore, his touch travelling underneath Jones's shirt. Before he could get very far, Jones pulled away, and grabbed onto his white shirt, gesturing at the cloth.
"You want this off, big boy?"
Drix's thoughts were fried upon hearing the new nickname, leaving him to resort to just nodding. He sat up, and lifted his shirt over his head, tossing it into the driver's seat, letting it hang out with his buddy, jacket. He was going to go in for another kiss, only to raise his brow at Drix. He looked completely stiff, and not in the way he was shooting for.
"Drips? I know I'm one fine looking membrane, but you look like you're gonna pass out. You alright?"
"I...fine. Completely fine."
He was not. And he was completely lying. Drix had an understanding on how most white blood cells looked, and was even given a course on their bodily structure. But the diagram didn't look at all like Jones did. Jones wasn't stocky, but he was lean, no doubt from being in his profession. His arms were thin, taunt, and despite not having bulk, like other cells, it was very clear that Jones took care of himself. His collarbone was evident, in a lax, 'U' like shape, paired with a 'V' shaped, lower crotch area. He didn't have defined pectorals, but it looked flat, smooth. If he could define Jones in one word, it'd be that; smooth. Thin, but having curves in areas that appealed to him. And this is just what Drix could SEE. He felt ashamed to want his pants off immediately, allured by the prospect of equally taunt legs. Oh mother of pill boxes, picture those calves.
"Drix? Buddy, you know you can use your hands, right?"
"Hmm?.... I-I'm sorry, I didn't catch that. Once more?"
"Your hands. Hand, I mean. You can use it. On me. To touch me. That's like, what we're doing."
Jones felt like his partner was a real idiot sometimes. Sure, he could probably name every bone in the body, even alphabetically, but the boy didn't know JACK beyond what was in a textbook. Jones rolled his eyes, took Drix's hand, and placed it right on his chest. He didn't expect to start getting absolutely plowed by now, but this was REALLY slow going.
"See? Not bad, right?"
Jones felt soft, yet firm. Despite how Drix felt like he was going to explode, he allowed himself to press on, softly thumbing over one of Jones's pectorals. It was more firm than other parts of his body, like his shoulder or his arm, but still malleable in his hand.
"Jones? Could you lean back, just a little?"
"On the dash?"
"Yes. On the dash."
He felt his eagerness take over his manners, and he pushed Jones back, letting the upper portion of his body lean onto the dashboard, and the rest of him on Drix's lap. Drix didn't look up at his face as he let his hand wander. From rubbing firmly into his pectorals, to roaming down to his lower stomach. Taking his time to caress, knead, and examine every part he could. He allowed his thumbs to trace down to 'V' line of his pants, fascinated by how, despite his stretchy, gooey makeup, his body was formed. The membrane however, added to his fascination, as it seemed to push into his palm, despite to sate his curiosity of Jones's body. His blue figure never ceased to surprise and infatuate him. Speaking of surprises, he felt himself pull away once he noticed the area between Jones's legs. It was no longer a flat area, but a bulge.
"Jones? What is- Jonsie?"
He finally looked up at his face, only to find him completely out of it. He had his head tossed back, elbows propping himself up, with his chest slowly rising and falling. It took a good few seconds before Jones even realized Drix stopped touching him, and once he did, he lifted his head up, trying to get his sight into focus.
"Hey...wh...why'd ya stop?"
"I uhm, am confused as to what I did."
Jones looked down at himself, and snorted, covering his face. Dude was lucky he was a pretty pill.
"A good job, is what you did. You were having fun there, weren't ya?"
Jones sighed, trying to get enough circulation back into his arms. Drix hadn't said anything as he stared in interest, watching Jones fumble with his belt. However, Jones was taking too long. Drix was impatient. He pushed his hands away, and merely pulled the belt away, accidentally snapping it.
"Oh. Whoops. Sorry, I just meant to-"
"Just...take my pants off for me, Drix. I'm dying here."
It was cute, don't get him wrong, the constant stuttering and making a fool of himself, but those man hands got him way too worked up. He watched, almost smugly, as Drix yanked down his pants, letting his bulge free from its tight prison. He had clear fascination in the throbbing area, as shown when he peeled his pants off completely, adding it to the rest of Jones's attire. Curiosity took over, and he cupped the blue appendage in his palm, firmly massaging the flesh. It wasn't thick, more on the thin side, but Drix enjoyed how it felt, sliding in between his fingers. Jones's breath hitched, and he sat up quickly, pushing his hand away.
"Easy man, go a little slower. Don't get me wrong, that was good, REAL good,"
He paused as he felt himself throb. He hadn't remembered being this excited in a while, honestly.
"But I don't wanna be the first to bust."
Jones took matters into his own hands. Literally, as he slowly started to stroke himself, while simultaneously spreading his legs.
"I'm all disarmed. Your turn man, whatcha packin?"
"What...am I...packing?"
"Yeah. Your junk. Your hidden weapon. Your snake. Baby's arm holding an apple. ANY of those ringing a bell?"
"Not really?"
"You're KILLING me, Drips."
He groaned, tossing his head back. Did pills even one of these? He hoped so, or else this was gonna be VERY weird. An idea popped into his head, and he snapped up, getting off the dashboard, and sitting on Drix's lap, looking up at him.
"You gotta be holding out on me here, baby. Big pill like you? No way you ain't smuggling something down there~"
Drix was starting to clam up, mainly from the fact that Jones was completely naked, on his lap, and caressing his build. Jones was interested in Drix's body, as much as it was vise versa. He kept his body pressed up against his, but still giving him enough space to feel him up. Firm, sharp curves. And sleek. Boy was practically sculpted, honestly. Drix tried to look away, but Jones wasn't having it. He turned his head back, forcing him to look at him.
"Hey hey...don't be rude. I want your eyes on me while I got my hands on you. You feel?"
"I...f-feel. I definitely feel."
"Good. Because I need to know you're listenin to me. I need you to know that I dig how you were put together. Big guy like you? Plenty of you to feel up, and I'm lovin it~"
"J-Jones I-"
"Ah ah ah. I want you to keep looking at me. And I want you to call me Jonsie. I like it when you say it. Come on, you're a smart boy. Say it."
"...J...Jonsie. I-I believe you're being a bit inappropriate."
This dude. Fighting back laughter, he shook his head.
"I don't think so. I just like telling my pill exactly what I think. And I think, you're big, and a total babe."
He let his hands run up Drix's bust, and was amused to watch him shudder. He wasn't used to the pro's, apparently. He kissed at his chest, slowly trailing his kisses higher and higher still, mumbling as he went along.
"I like ya, Drips. I want you to be my partner. I want you to know just how much I like ya. And you know what I REALLY want you to know?"
Drix gave a small shake of his head. Jones was pretty much on top of him now, with Drix under him, and absolutely melting. As he carefully dragged his tongue along his bust, much more slowly this time,he muttered it against his firm frame.
"I think you're cool. Maybe even cooler than me."
And with a gasp from Drix, they both heard a sound. One that resembled someone dropping a tin can onto the floor. Drix looked down lower, and felt pride. There it was. Different from his own, sure, but he saw that coming. He let go of Drix, climbing into the driver's seat, and giving it a once over. It was thick, yellow, and definitely didn't look like one he has seen before.
"Wow. Trippy. Dude it's like the size of my arm! How did you NOT know you had this?!"
"I...don't know. I-I don't usually do this sort of thing. Nor do...people treat me like how you do."
"What, nice to you?"
"More along the lines of... adoration."
"...OH I feel you. You praise kink kinda guy, huh? I'm down with that."
"Praise...kink? I'm unaware."
"You like compliments. Gets your rocks off. Watch."
Jones wrapped his hand along the others gerth, feeling it up for a moment, and fighting the urge to NOT hop on that.
"You're cool, buddy. A total and complete pal. I like you. I usually don't let folks do the deed in my ride, but you're worth it. Look see! I say that, you twitched in my hand!"
"I...did?"
Drix had to admit, his nether regions flooded with heat, so he could see what Jones meant. His next throb was painful, upon seeing Jones's characteristically large grin.
"I got an idea. But you gotta promise me something."
"I...uh…"
"Come on. As my partner."
"...alright. What is it?"
"You gotta promise to not hold back on me, got it?"
"I promise. Now what are you-AH!!"
He felt ashamed that he had exclaimed so loudly, but the sudden feeling of Jones's mouth latched around his girth, was making him absolutely weak under him. His hands were raised high above his sides, completely unsure on where to put them. He didn't know what to do. All he knew was that Jones was groaning as he slowly swallowed more of him, the sensation making Drix's thoughts hazy. He was tempted to just lay back and enjoy himself, savor the warm, cushion like mouth, like his body told him to, when Jones slowly pulled away, grinning up at the drool soaked appendage, then up at Drix, who looked as though his mind was just absolutely blown. As quickly as the new, delightful sensation came, it was removed. All because of those smug lips. Jones tediously ran his hand up and down his shaft, only frazzling Drix more so. He kept his lips closer, but seemed to not initiate anymore sucking. Drix felt humiliated upon whining at this, but even more so as Jones only tortured him further.
"Let me guess. You want more, don't you?"
Drix nodded. Too bad it just wasn't enough. He shook his head, and ran his thumb over the others tip, seeming amused by the light pink fluid that slowly dripped and cascaded down.
"That's not gonna fly anymore, pill. You want it, you gotta ask. Or I could just sit here, just doing this the whole time."
"Now Jones-"
Jones sat up fully, folding his arms together, and lapping up the little bit of fluid he got on his lip.
"Ah ah ah. You're going about this ALL wrong."
Drix took a moment to assess the situation. Jones was sitting there, nude, and fully erect, while Drix was laying there, throbbing, all senses ignited. Jones trusted him to have his back, and that took a lot for him least Drix could do was offer some humility. Mentally pushing himself, he focused back up on Jones.
"Jonsie,"
He started, with Jones slowly nodding, trying to press him forward.
"I...would like you to suck on me. Er, please."
"Hmmm…"
Jones rubbed at his facial hair, before snapping his fingers.
"Tell you what. Shoot me a compliment, and I'll 'suck on you'. Which by the way, weird way to put it. Most say 'suck you off' We'll work on it."
A compliment? Ah yes, the praise kink, that Jones brought forth earlier. He supposed they both shared that in common. However, Drix found himself unable to comply.
"I...find it hard to pick just one, truth be told."
"I know, I know. But pick one. How about this, focus on the bod. The masterpiece, favorite thing about it. Go."
Jones's smug grin was showing he was enjoying this. Possibly too much. What DID Drix favor about Jones? He enjoyed how lax he looked when he was laying back, like how he was right now. The way his smile stretched so bizarrely far. The way that despite his thin frame, Drix found himself envious. So much form, curve, and lines. But one thing, he liked above all else?
"Your legs."
"...really? My legs?"
"Yes. I...enjoy how they feel in my hands. I enjoy how they look. I-"
"Is it because you ain't got none?"
There was a moment of silence. He just went there. He REALLY went over that. Jones realized it as he sat up, holding his hands up in defense.
"Sorry, sorry, you shouldn't stand for that."
"Jones!"
"Okay that one was an accident, swear!"
Had it not been for that smile, Drix would've left. Jones got himself situated, running his tongue along the gerth, making Drix shudder almost violently. Jones chuckled.
"Alright, you earned this, buddy."
Jones finally stopped taunting him, wrapping his mouth around the head again, and slowly sinking himself about halfway down, only to go back up, then back down, soon finding a rhythm, much to Drix's content. He couldn't resist running his fingers through Jones's hair during this, mainly because he needed something to do with his hands, besides keeping them up like some makeshift scarecrow. Drix felt guilty for wanting more, but he couldn't resist pushing Jones down a bit lower, and pushing his hips up higher, a little too buried in the heat in the bit of his stomach to focus on the effort Jones was putting into this. Drix was feeling his eyesight grow hazy, and he was panting as if he had been fixing a sore throat for hours on end.
"Just… a little more, Jonsie. P-please."
This was his first time doing something like this, but he had a feeling he was very close to an end. Once Jonsie listened, and sank himself down fully, thanks to his Pliable cellular dynamics ability (which aroused him further, oddly enough). A few seconds longer, and his body finally released, forcing quite a bit of fluids into Jones's mouth. Upon hearing Jones cough, he had the random panic that he had hurt Jones, and let him go. Jones coughed as he pulled away, bright red fluid connecting his mouth and Drix's still pulsing gerth. Jones was holding onto Drix's arm in support, lightly panting.
"Jones? J-jones? I'm so sorry, I-I didn't know what possessed me to act in such a way! I-"
Jones held his hand up, signalling him to stop talking. For a few seconds (what felt like hours to Drix), Jones sat there, panting. He felt like he just drank a whole case of...whatever came out of Drix. It was definitely the biggest size he'd taken down, and he was proud, honestly. He wiped his mouth clean, but found it pretty useless towards the mess they'd gotten on the seats. Hoped whatever this was, didn't stain. He looked up at Drix, kind of amused by how freaked out he looked.
"You chill, pill?"
"Are...YOU alright? You were coughing and I found myself holding your head down and-"
Jones shut him up the best way he knew how. By forcing his lips firmly onto his own. This kiss lasted much longer than before, and Drix was almost giddy as he was allowed to hold the side of Jones's face, thumb gently running over his cheek. He almost stopped however, when he felt Jones's tongue slipped past his lips, running over his own. Jones pulled away shortly after, wiping his lips with the back of his hand, and leaving Drix with a strong, cherry flavor in his mouth.
"Bit of a pervy pill, aint ya Drips?"
"I-I didn't mean for that. I just...got excited. I really didn't want this to end so quickly, I just-"
"Woah, back it up. 'End'? Buddy, you're crazy. We still got a problem here."
He sat up, and gestured to his own appendage, which was leaking a see through, light blue liquid.
"Oh. Apologies. I'm...new to this."
"No, really?"
Drix tried not to glare too harshly, only barely managing. Jones, as always, only shrugged it off as he pressed himself against Drix's gerth, definitely getting a big head as Drix's glare started to disappear and melt. Osmosis patted his chest, and lifted himself up, simultaneously grabbing onto his junk.
"You tell me if somethin is too much for ya. You looked like you were dying a second ago."
And with that, Jones slowly sank himself down, taking a sharp inhale as he felt himself slowly be stretched. This was WAY different from white blood cells. This was firm, completely unwilling to move in cohesion with him. It was different, but Jones liked it. He liked how cool the metal felt, how the size was challenging him. He looked down, and swore as he noticed he wasn't even half ways, yet he felt completely full.
"S-snot crust...this is gonna be a bit harder than I thought. Help me out here."
"H-how do I-"
Jones rolled his eyes, put Drix's hand on one of his legs, and patted his cheek.
"Pull down, hips up, look good. All you gotta do. Already one outta three done."
Drix halted at first, mainly because he just understood what Jones had just said, but after laying back and getting himself situated, he followed his instructions, pulling Jones down, and pushing his hips up. He hoped he was still achieving the third objecting, though he knew he wasn't anywhere near doing as good of a job as Jones. Jones was trembling, face flushed, eyes lax, and mouth open, constantly hitting him with hot breath. Even if it smelled like tacos. With some patience, Drix managed to push himself completely inside of Jones, even if Jones's stomach had to lightly expand to accommodate the size.
"Jones? Are you with me still?"
Jones looked as though he'd fall unconscious. Drix was terrified, thinking he actually damaged him this time, when Jones shook his head, rather weakly.
"Drix, buddy. If it hurts, I-I'll tell you to stop. But I need you to move, alright? Need you to do that for me."
"Jonsie, you look like-"
"Drix PLEASE. Come on, I NEED this! It's been too long, a-and you feel JUST right. Please?"
Jones wrapped an arm around Drix's neck, with his other hand stroking himself, maybe a bit too quickly. Drix still hadn't moved yet, in worry, but once he saw the pleading, desperate look in Jones's eyes, he found it impossible to refuse him any longer. He meant to go slow, he really did, but his throbbing gerth, being surrounded by such a firm, gooey, tight space, he found himself unable to do anything but thrust his hips up harshly, fingers digging into his thighs. Drix found himself kissing Jones this time, a bit prideful by the amount of moans that flooded into his mouth. He did feel a little bad, knowing all this rocking couldn't be good for the vehicle, but from the way Jones almost never left his lips alone, something told him it wasn't as big of an issue as he was making it out to be. Drix lost track of what number kiss this was, but he parted, hot breath cycling with Jones's.
"J-Jonsie?"
"Y-yeah sugar pill?"
What would've been an insult to him before, was almost sweet to him now. How can you be offended, when someone as cool as Jones, was squeezing you and making you want this to last for eternity.
"I-I know I'm not exactly Viagra, but-"
He halted himself for a moment, squeezing the driver's seat. He was still moving Jones, as harshly as he could, when he felt Jones constrict him tighter, so close to forcing him to let go yet again.
"B-but, am I doing enough for you?"
Jones snickered against Drix's metal, entertained by how much drool he was leaving on the top of his bust.
"I don't need no overrated Viagra. I got you, and thats p-plenty!-"
He gave a muffled cry against his bust, fighting his own orgasm.
"O-oh Drix, man, y-your not gonna make me last long at all. I cant wait till I got you all trained up, g-gonna have to fight everyone off of you~"
"T-training?"
"Yeah…"
Drix lost it all once Osmosis looked back up at him, slowly running his tongue across his lips, and giving him a classic Osmosis Jones smirk.
"Because I don't want anyone else~"
And just like that, Drix found himself unable to restrain his want, and as he gripped tightly onto Jones's thighs, he watched as Jones's gut start to discolor to a purple ish color, and expand slightly. Jones let out a cry that was loud, and almost concerning, as he too, finished, clenching around Drix, determined to get every single drop out of him. Jones wasn't without reciprocating, as he gifted Drix with a large, sticky, blue mess, that reached from his chest, down to his lower stomach. They sat there, bathing in the afterglow, the silence being replaced with groans and sighs, due to more kisses. They were probably sitting there, gross and weary and kissing, for about twenty minutes. The final kiss, ending on twenty minutes on the dot, ended with Jones pulling away, and holding the hand that was cupping his own face. Drix broke the silence first.
"Did you...mean what you said? Towards the end?"
"I ain't gonna lie to you. I meant every word. First time by the way, not bad. Pound it. "
"Jones I really don't think I have much left in me, I-"
"I meant fist bumping."
"I...oh."
"Ha! You ARE a dirty pill!"
He snickered as he put his hand into a fist, and fist bumped Drix. He leaned down, and pecked him right between his eyes.
"Don't worry, you'll get to pound later. Once I learn how to walk again. Alright, we better start getting back. I'll get dressed in the lot. This is where I let off."
He clapped his hands as he barked in laughter, then slowly started peeling himself off of his junk, wincing a little as fluids slowly dripped down onto the gerth. Drix couldn't help but stare, and hated that Jones caught that. He shot him finger guns.
"Breeding kink too, huh? Once you get some stamina, I'm down. Now I-"
He fell into the driver's seat, right after Drix took his clothes, less he messy them. He lifted his head up at him, a bit of a bashful smile.
"Uh...I can't feel my legs. We might be here for a minute. Swear I'm good."
"You're lucky I took your clothes. I'd hate for you to stain your jacket. And...I don't mind waiting. I'm in no state to be in front of...anyone but you really."
"Yeah. What you said. Sorry, ya got my head all fuzzy."
He chuckled. He spent a moment staring at the ceiling, before noticing Drix fold his clothes, taking extra care with his jacket. He chuckled.
"You like it, huh?"
"It's nice. Looks nice on you as well."
"Thanks. I'll get one for ya."
Drix looked at him in disbelief, as if he offered him his damn car.
"...really?"
"Yeah. We're partners! Makes sense if both of us got style."
He offered his fist up to Drix, and while he was completely befuddled, yet flattered, he returned it. Partners. He liked the sound of that.
----------
"Hey boss, look! It's the fuzz!"
Thrax pushed the meathead aside, peering into the window. Cop car. Two of them. Movements. He reached his hand out, leering outside.
"Binoculars."
As they plopped into his hand, he peered through them, focusing on the car. It was...rocking. Odd. He focused the lenses, and finally saw WHY the car was rocking. The blood cell, and that cold pill, were doing some multiplying. He recoiled, offering it to one of his boys. They raised a brow at him.
"Boss?"
"What's up? Should we handle em?"
"...nah. They're handling each other just fine. Damn, I thought I got around…"
Thrax excused himself, letting his morons watch the freak show. He was eager now more than ever, to watch this place burn.