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turpsI hope this is what you were looking for, hon.
Howie sits on the stone steps staring into the distance. Behind him he can hear the muffled sounds of laughter and the beat of drums -- more of a feel than a sound. It’s hot and Howie tips his head back, lifting his hair from his neck with one hand. The sun feels fantastic; warming his skin with its soothing heat and Howie shuts his eyes enjoying the moment.
“Hey.”
Howie opens his eyes and sees Chris standing above him. Chris looks huge from this angle, a giant looking down from above. The thought of Chris being a giant amuses Howie and he snickers a little then pats the step next to him. “Sit down, I’ve got us lunch.”
“Something good I hope.” Chris tries to peer in the bag that’s at Howie’s feet so Howie picks it up, putting it on his knee.
“Depends on what you mean by good.” Opening the bag, Howie pulls out two pre-packed sandwiches and two cans of soda. Looking at the labels he passes the meat sandwich to Chris, keeping the salad for himself.
“You went to the vending machine, you romancing bastard you.” Chris sounds amused but Howie knows the choice had been a good one. Chris likes to eat cheap at times, and he smiles happily as he pulls his sandwich from its protective layer.
Leaving his own sandwich, Howie closes his eyes again. He’s tired and just wants to sit close to Chris, drinking in the sun. Recording the album is fantastic, but it’s still hard work, almost as hard as remembering how to be a Backstreet Boy again.
“This reminds me of our first date.”
Puzzled, Howie looks at Chris. “Sitting here reminds you of going to the cinema?”
Chris laughs, almost dropping half of his sandwich to the ground in the process, then turns serious. “That wasn’t our first date.”
“It wasn’t?” Howie’s sure it was. He can remember how nervous he’d been as he picked Chris up and the way he’d agonised over the right clothes to wear for two hours before-hand. Chris had been wearing faded jeans that clung to his ass and a shirt that fell low over his hands. Howie can’t remember what movie they’d seen, some kind of war film he thinks, at least he’d seen soldiers when he surfaced for air from Chris’ kisses. They’d been in the back row, hidden in a dark corner and Howie knows he’ll never forget that night. It’s kind of disappointing that Chris has.
“I swear Dorough, two weeks back with them and you’re losing brain cells again. It’s a good job I’m here to keep you right.” Chris takes a bite of his sandwich, slowly chewing and Howie resists the urge to tell him to get on with it already. “Our first date was on the steps after choir practice. Remember? My car was off the road and I’d missed the chance of a lift. You’d been to see Prof. Evans and for some reason you decided to talk to me on the way out. We talked so long I missed my bus so you treated me to a coffee and a donut while I waited for the next one. That was our first date.”
Howie smiles, touched Chris remembers the meeting so clearly, though he shouldn’t be, Chris always remembers the important things. Like the way he’s here now, casually supporting as Backstreet try to gel again.
“Ah I thought you meant official dates.” Howie leans against Chris will long practiced familiarity, sleepy and content.
“It’s not your fault. An hour with Carter and I’d be confused too.”
Howie lets the gentle jibe go. Chris and Nick are friends, have been since they bonded over video games and sports. But Chris wouldn’t be Chris if he didn’t insult and Howie loves Chris just the way he is.
In interviews if anyone asks about Valencia, Howie will mention how Chris was in his choir class. What he doesn’t mention is Valencia’s the place that Chris first became one of the most important people in his life then stayed that way.
Howie sits on the stone steps staring into the distance. Behind him he can hear the muffled sounds of laughter and the beat of drums -- more of a feel than a sound. It’s hot and Howie tips his head back, lifting his hair from his neck with one hand. The sun feels fantastic; warming his skin with its soothing heat and Howie shuts his eyes enjoying the moment.
“Hey.”
Howie opens his eyes and sees Chris standing above him. Chris looks huge from this angle, a giant looking down from above. The thought of Chris being a giant amuses Howie and he snickers a little then pats the step next to him. “Sit down, I’ve got us lunch.”
“Something good I hope.” Chris tries to peer in the bag that’s at Howie’s feet so Howie picks it up, putting it on his knee.
“Depends on what you mean by good.” Opening the bag, Howie pulls out two pre-packed sandwiches and two cans of soda. Looking at the labels he passes the meat sandwich to Chris, keeping the salad for himself.
“You went to the vending machine, you romancing bastard you.” Chris sounds amused but Howie knows the choice had been a good one. Chris likes to eat cheap at times, and he smiles happily as he pulls his sandwich from its protective layer.
Leaving his own sandwich, Howie closes his eyes again. He’s tired and just wants to sit close to Chris, drinking in the sun. Recording the album is fantastic, but it’s still hard work, almost as hard as remembering how to be a Backstreet Boy again.
“This reminds me of our first date.”
Puzzled, Howie looks at Chris. “Sitting here reminds you of going to the cinema?”
Chris laughs, almost dropping half of his sandwich to the ground in the process, then turns serious. “That wasn’t our first date.”
“It wasn’t?” Howie’s sure it was. He can remember how nervous he’d been as he picked Chris up and the way he’d agonised over the right clothes to wear for two hours before-hand. Chris had been wearing faded jeans that clung to his ass and a shirt that fell low over his hands. Howie can’t remember what movie they’d seen, some kind of war film he thinks, at least he’d seen soldiers when he surfaced for air from Chris’ kisses. They’d been in the back row, hidden in a dark corner and Howie knows he’ll never forget that night. It’s kind of disappointing that Chris has.
“I swear Dorough, two weeks back with them and you’re losing brain cells again. It’s a good job I’m here to keep you right.” Chris takes a bite of his sandwich, slowly chewing and Howie resists the urge to tell him to get on with it already. “Our first date was on the steps after choir practice. Remember? My car was off the road and I’d missed the chance of a lift. You’d been to see Prof. Evans and for some reason you decided to talk to me on the way out. We talked so long I missed my bus so you treated me to a coffee and a donut while I waited for the next one. That was our first date.”
Howie smiles, touched Chris remembers the meeting so clearly, though he shouldn’t be, Chris always remembers the important things. Like the way he’s here now, casually supporting as Backstreet try to gel again.
“Ah I thought you meant official dates.” Howie leans against Chris will long practiced familiarity, sleepy and content.
“It’s not your fault. An hour with Carter and I’d be confused too.”
Howie lets the gentle jibe go. Chris and Nick are friends, have been since they bonded over video games and sports. But Chris wouldn’t be Chris if he didn’t insult and Howie loves Chris just the way he is.
In interviews if anyone asks about Valencia, Howie will mention how Chris was in his choir class. What he doesn’t mention is Valencia’s the place that Chris first became one of the most important people in his life then stayed that way.
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no subject
Date: 2004-01-15 06:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-15 06:23 am (UTC)No problem at all about sharing, thank you for reading and commenting :)
no subject
Date: 2004-01-15 06:30 am (UTC)Oh!
I love it. Love, love, love. This pairing gets absolutely no love. And, it's one of my favourites. And, this story is a perfect example of why.
Theirloveissoshortandsnarky!
no subject
Date: 2004-01-15 07:14 am (UTC)I'm suffering Howie/Chris love myself at the moment, they go so well together.
Theirloveissoshortandsnarky!
Yes. Yes it is! That's the perfect description.
Thanks for commenting :)
no subject
Date: 2004-01-15 11:51 am (UTC)Thank you thank you thank you.
I've had a crappy day so far, but this made me grin a lot.
/happy dance
Thanks so much!
no subject
Date: 2004-01-15 02:36 pm (UTC)Thank you so much for trusting me to write you something :)
no subject
Date: 2004-01-15 01:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-15 02:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-15 03:45 pm (UTC)Now that I am home from work, I can read it!
And now I have, so it's time to be incoherent again! wonderfulous... is that a word?
So, how can I bribe you to write the story that goes in the middle? I have chocolate liqueur, if that'll help!
no subject
Date: 2004-01-15 03:53 pm (UTC)You're so good for my ego :D
I don't think wonderfulous is a word but I'll take it anyway, I love the sound of it *g*
I'd love to write the middle parts of this, but I'm signed up for
no subject
Date: 2004-01-16 03:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-15 04:02 pm (UTC)*snicker*
Now brace yourself, I'm gonna crit:
They're American. It's a "thing", not a "job". It's a good "thing". "Good job" means "well done" as in "a job well done, you performed admirably" We say "Good job" because Americans don't speak like that; we lack culture ;) Also, NO ONE says "cinema" in casual conversation. I shudder to think of the number of Americans who probably don't even know what the word means, or at least would have to think about it to figure it out. We say "movies". "Going to the movies" "Went to the movies", etc.
I'm not poking fun or anything, I just want you to know, 'cause your so good about switching to Americanisms, I want to complete your education! *w*
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Date: 2004-01-15 04:08 pm (UTC)Seriously, thanks. I do try to catch all the Britishisms but some I just don't know. I have this mental list that gets longer all the time *g*
I get the feeling you just don't feel the Chowie ;)
no subject
Date: 2004-01-15 09:44 pm (UTC)And really, you really ARE good at avoiding Britishisms; I'm proud. And I envy you; I'm tempted to write a Buffyfic & have part of it be the Watchers' Council in England, just so I can write lots of British dialogue. I'm sure you'd bust a gut laughing at how much revision it would need, lol.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-16 01:00 am (UTC)You should write your Buffyfic, you'd do a cool Giles I bet. Saying that though, I imagine that it would be easier for me to write American that you Brit, simply because I watch a lot of US tv imports and the way you speak becomes familiar. At least the main words, I still get tripped up by some, like you well know ;)
no subject
Date: 2004-01-16 07:04 am (UTC)True, can't say I've seen a lot of British TV. Some Monty Python, & the various English charcters of the Buffyverse are about it, I'm afraid. And Giles & Wesley are the only (major) ones who are really British anyway, lol.
So, I'll just add that Watcher Buffyfic to my list of things to write that will never make me professional, lol...
no subject
Date: 2004-01-16 09:17 am (UTC)You have to add the Buffyfic to the list! Every writer needs a list a mile long ;)