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Mar. 31st, 2004 10:39 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
turpsHappy Birthday ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
escapist_xbq
You're my newest 'friend' but from what I've read you're fantastic and have great taste in fic. I hope you have a fantastic day, hon.
I said I'd write something for you and I have. Sorry it's so short, if I'd had more warning I would have loved to write something longer.
To anyone else that reads this, be warned it's not a happy story and I'm a bit worried about posting it, but hell, if it sucks it sucks. Usual warning on it too, unbetaed, I wrote this in one sitting yesterday so it's rough and will have mistakes.
Lol, I'm surprised any of you read my stuff ;)
“I thought you were overseas,” Justin says. He didn’t expect to see JC this soon, and is tempted to slam the door in his face but he stands aside anyway, watching with a frown as JC comes inside. JC shrugs and drops his bag to the floor. He has no luggage Justin notices, not that it’s a surprise, JC never does when he visits.
“I was. I’m back.” JC doesn’t elaborate, just stands slumped against the wall, head back and eyes closed. He looks exhausted and for a moment Justin feels compassion, but it’s soon replaced by indifference edged with anger.
“And you decided to come here?” It’s a loaded question, and the ‘why’ hangs in the air. JC doesn’t open his eyes and doesn’t answer either. Justin doesn’t press for an answer; he knows why JC’s here, and that knowledge both disgusts and excites him.
“Suit yourself.” Justin says, and he walks past JC, deliberately not looking at him. Justin wants to forget he’s there, standing in his hallway, obviously broken. But he can’t. Even if he doesn’t see JC he knows he’s there. The atmosphere changes, becomes thick and suffocating. Justin knows when JC’s near him, his body tingles and he wants to claw at his own skin until he bleeds.
Justin grabs a cloth in his kitchen and starts obsessively wiping the counter. He feels antsy and his hands tremble slightly as he scrubs at the shining surface, then keeps on scrubbing when JC stays away. Justin throws down the cloth when he’s done every counter in the room and still JC hasn’t come. The waiting is killing him, and Justin wants to storm from the room, escape before it starts again, but he doesn’t – he can’t.
“Justin.” JC says quietly, and Justin slowly turns around, eyes narrowing when he sees JC standing in the doorway, arms crossed as he stares defiantly. There’s no hint of the broken man and Justin’s glad. This is the JC he knows, the man confident in his own abilities and comfortable in his own skin. This is the man Justin knows, and this is the man Justin hates.
He hates that JC wears what he wants, that he makes music and doesn’t care what people think. He hates that JC appears so vague, but hides a mind that is brilliantly sharp and most of all he hates how he’s so beautiful. JC wasn’t supposed to be beautiful, that was Justin’s role, and it burns to share it.
“JC,” Justin replies at last. They look at one another, neither willing to break eye contact first. Then Justin folds, he always does, but as soon as he looks down JC’s moving and Justin backs up until he hits the counter.
“I want you.” JC says, and he rests his hand on Justin’s chest. Justin looks at it, the way JC’s fingers splay across his white t-shirt, and shivers. Then groans as JC lunges forward, pushing Justin’s body with his hips, so the counter digs in painfully.
JC kisses like he wants to devour Justin, there’s no gentleness, no love, and Justin gives back as much as he takes. They bite and nip until Justin feels the unmistakable tang of blood fill his mouth then he pushes JC, and they both stumble back until Justin pulls them down. They land with a crash, and Justin bites back a groan when his hip connects sharply with the hard tile floor, but the pain is forgotten when JC straddles him, hands either side of Justin’s head.
“I hear you’ve had another number one; you think you’re the shit don’t you?” JC spits the words and spittle lands on Justin’s face. Justin wants to wipe it away but won’t give JC the satisfaction. Instead Justin smiles, not the wide fake smile he’s perfected over the years but a private bitter smile that hurts his face.
“You’ve heard wrong. I’ve had three.” Justin says, and he smiles wider, baring his teeth as JC flinches, unable to hide his reaction. Because Justin knows JC hates him too. It’s hard not to know when JC’s staring down at him, mouth a thin line before he grabs for Justin’s hands and tries to flip him on his back.
Justin fights back, refusing to flip without a struggle. They roll around the floor, clashing into the cabinets as they battle for dominance. JC’s hands grip Justin’s arms in a savage hold that’s bound to bruise, and Justin holds handfuls of JC’s hair in his hands, pulling and tugging as JC screams and calls him a fucking girl. But Justin doesn’t care, just keeps tugging until strands of hair litter the floor.
“You fucking egotistical, bastard,” JC hisses and he lets go of Justin’s arm before slapping him hard across the face. The blow makes Justin’s head ring, and JC flips him over before he comes back to his senses. It’s all JC’s show now, and he pulls at Justin’s pants until Justin lifts his hips, giving JC access to get to the buttons.
With a jerk, JC pulls off Justin’s pants, leaving him bare assed and hard on the floor. Justin feels like a slut as JC straddles him, and Justin’s hands scrabble at the floor that’s slick with the blood that drips from his nose.
“I’m going to fuck you, baby,” JC says, and Justin nods desperately, he needs to be fucked, wants to feel the violence of the moment. It’s when he feels most alive, when JC’s thrusting into him, and the only thing that matters is the ache of his body and the heavy weight of the man on his back.
When JC’s comes he pulls away from Justin and stands, pulling up his pants. He says nothing, just looks at Justin while ignoring the blood that dribbles from his split lip, then leaves. Justin hears the front door slam while he’s still kneeling, bloody hand jerking his own dick, before he comes on his kitchen floor.
After, when Justin’s cleaning up, his stomach turns at the sight of come mixed with blood. He shuts his eyes and wipes it away, then strips his clothes and throws them in the garbage. Then wraps himself in a blanket and collapses on his couch, hand automatically reaching for his phone.
~*~*~*~*~
“You have to stop this,” Chris says, and he frowns as he gently feels Justin’s nose. Chris is being unusually quiet, and Justin wants to tell him it’s okay, he doesn’t need babying, but he says nothing. Just sits quietly as Chris puts ointment on his scratches and bruises.
“I want it.”
“I know you do. It’s the only reason, JC still has his dick,” Chris says it calmly but Justin knows he means every word. Chris’ temper is violent and quick, especially where his boys are concerned. JC is one of his boys too, but Justin knows he always comes first with Chris; it’s always been that way.
Chris thinks Justin’s in some kind of S&M relationship with JC, and Justin’s never told him otherwise. It’s easier that way, when his friends think JC and him get off on hurting one another. They wouldn’t believe the real reason. That Justin does it because he likes to hurt JC, to beat on him with bitterness and hate.
It’s the secret that they’ve agreed to never share. Because JC knows as well as Justin that no one will understand, that two so called brothers hate each other enough to hurt.
“It’s wrong, Justin. Look at you.” Chris sounds genuinely distressed and Justin hates that. He loves Chris, a pure love that’s untainted, and would do anything for him. That is, anything but give up this.
“I’m sorry,” Justin says, and he hisses when Chris presses extra hard on one of his bruises. “You don’t understand.”
“You’re right, I don’t,” Chris admits, and he stands, pushing the ointment back into the first-aid box. “But I know this. It’s getting worse, Justin. It used to be an occasional bust lip and nose. Now you and C look like road kill after you’ve seen each other. It’s going too far.”
Chris sounds worried, but Justin’s unconcerned. He can handle this, he can handle JC. Justin’s a fighter, always has been and he’s not going to give up how he feels when he’s fighting JC for anyone; even Chris.
“I’m okay, don’t worry.”
“Yeah, sure,” Chris replies, but he shuts up after that, curling on the couch next to Justin as they channel surf for a movie. Justin leans against him and closes his eyes, and works out how soon he can see JC.
~*~*~*~
“JC,” Justin stands at JC’s doorway, pleased when JC stops smiling when he sees him. JC bites at his lip, as if he’s unsure that he should let Justin in, so Justin pushes his way past, and runs his hand along JC’s stomach, smirking when JC shudders at the touch.
“What do you want? I’m busy,” JC says, and Justin stops and turns so he can see JC.
“Doing what? Working on your album that’s going to tank as soon as it’s released? Face it, there’s only one superstar here and it isn’t you.” Justin means every word, and he’s satisfied when JC’s face crumples. Then JC turns away and when he looks back he’s smiling, and Justin tenses for what he’s going to say.
“I might not be a superstar, but at least I’m not an ass licking fan boy like you. You’re pathetic with your little obsessions, like singing with hip bands will make you more than you are. You’re from a boyband, Justin, no more, no less. My stuff might not sell, but it’s mine.”
The words sting, and Justin feels his composure slip, but seeing JC so mad makes Justin’s body sing, and the numbness that usually surrounds him is swept away as JC glares at him. Then JC smiles, openly mocking, and Justin pounces.
He jumps at JC, slamming him against the wall. JC retaliates by punching Justin in the gut, a hard punch that leaves Justin gasping for air and they both punch and hit wildly. Justin feels something snap, and he spits as blood pours from his nose.
The sight of his blood splattered on JC’s white t-shirt gives Justin the ultimate rush, and he grins as he pushes JC to the ground. JC fights back, but Justin can feel he’s hard, and JC arches up, pressing against Justin’s groin.
Justin takes the hint and claws at JC’s shirt and pants, pulling them off with no regard to buttons or zips until JC’s lying naked on the floor. Justin can almost map the last times he’s seen JC from looking at his body. The bite on JC’s shoulder blade from two weeks ago, the black bruise on his ass from Thursday, it’s a map of hate for all to see, a match to the map Justin wears too.
“I hate you,” JC shouts, and Justin knows he means it, but JC still lewdly wiggles his hips in invitation.
“I’m going to fuck you,” Justin says, but first he kisses JC. Smearing both their faces, as Justin bites at JC’s lip, licking at his mouth with a blood slick tongue, as JC whispers I hate you, I hate you over and over.
Justin knows JC hates him, he also knows the hate is destroying them, and slowly destroying their friends as they have to stand by and watch. They used to be lovers, but now they’re two men on the road to ruin. Justin needs the hate to live, and as he fucks JC, he knows he needs JC too.
It’s going to end in disaster one day, when there’s one punch too many, or a word that cuts too deep. But Justin doesn’t care, as the adrenalin floods his body and JC whimpers below him, he knows he’ll never stop. Neither of them will, until they’re forced to stop, in the worst way possible.
Justin hopes it’s him that ends up dead, because he can’t lose JC. He hates him, but he loves him too, which is why stopping is impossible, for either of them.
*****
In other news, what I suspected about my Joey fic is true. It's confusing, makes no sense and I may just scrap the thing and start again. However, I now have a most disliked pairing, so yay for that *g*
RL wise, I woke up to what seemed a dead hamster, which would have been typical. James got Snowy from his cage and he was cold and stiff but started breathing again and trying to eat. He looks bad I have to admit, he's alive but I don't know for how long. The stupid thing keeps climbing along the top of his cage and falling down, which as it's a three story cage is a bad thing. I'm wondering if he fell and hit his head or something...sigh. I don't know.
Last thing. I don't know if you'll see this before you go, butjencat004 knock their socks off, hon!
escapist_xbqYou're my newest 'friend' but from what I've read you're fantastic and have great taste in fic. I hope you have a fantastic day, hon.
I said I'd write something for you and I have. Sorry it's so short, if I'd had more warning I would have loved to write something longer.
To anyone else that reads this, be warned it's not a happy story and I'm a bit worried about posting it, but hell, if it sucks it sucks. Usual warning on it too, unbetaed, I wrote this in one sitting yesterday so it's rough and will have mistakes.
Lol, I'm surprised any of you read my stuff ;)
“I thought you were overseas,” Justin says. He didn’t expect to see JC this soon, and is tempted to slam the door in his face but he stands aside anyway, watching with a frown as JC comes inside. JC shrugs and drops his bag to the floor. He has no luggage Justin notices, not that it’s a surprise, JC never does when he visits.
“I was. I’m back.” JC doesn’t elaborate, just stands slumped against the wall, head back and eyes closed. He looks exhausted and for a moment Justin feels compassion, but it’s soon replaced by indifference edged with anger.
“And you decided to come here?” It’s a loaded question, and the ‘why’ hangs in the air. JC doesn’t open his eyes and doesn’t answer either. Justin doesn’t press for an answer; he knows why JC’s here, and that knowledge both disgusts and excites him.
“Suit yourself.” Justin says, and he walks past JC, deliberately not looking at him. Justin wants to forget he’s there, standing in his hallway, obviously broken. But he can’t. Even if he doesn’t see JC he knows he’s there. The atmosphere changes, becomes thick and suffocating. Justin knows when JC’s near him, his body tingles and he wants to claw at his own skin until he bleeds.
Justin grabs a cloth in his kitchen and starts obsessively wiping the counter. He feels antsy and his hands tremble slightly as he scrubs at the shining surface, then keeps on scrubbing when JC stays away. Justin throws down the cloth when he’s done every counter in the room and still JC hasn’t come. The waiting is killing him, and Justin wants to storm from the room, escape before it starts again, but he doesn’t – he can’t.
“Justin.” JC says quietly, and Justin slowly turns around, eyes narrowing when he sees JC standing in the doorway, arms crossed as he stares defiantly. There’s no hint of the broken man and Justin’s glad. This is the JC he knows, the man confident in his own abilities and comfortable in his own skin. This is the man Justin knows, and this is the man Justin hates.
He hates that JC wears what he wants, that he makes music and doesn’t care what people think. He hates that JC appears so vague, but hides a mind that is brilliantly sharp and most of all he hates how he’s so beautiful. JC wasn’t supposed to be beautiful, that was Justin’s role, and it burns to share it.
“JC,” Justin replies at last. They look at one another, neither willing to break eye contact first. Then Justin folds, he always does, but as soon as he looks down JC’s moving and Justin backs up until he hits the counter.
“I want you.” JC says, and he rests his hand on Justin’s chest. Justin looks at it, the way JC’s fingers splay across his white t-shirt, and shivers. Then groans as JC lunges forward, pushing Justin’s body with his hips, so the counter digs in painfully.
JC kisses like he wants to devour Justin, there’s no gentleness, no love, and Justin gives back as much as he takes. They bite and nip until Justin feels the unmistakable tang of blood fill his mouth then he pushes JC, and they both stumble back until Justin pulls them down. They land with a crash, and Justin bites back a groan when his hip connects sharply with the hard tile floor, but the pain is forgotten when JC straddles him, hands either side of Justin’s head.
“I hear you’ve had another number one; you think you’re the shit don’t you?” JC spits the words and spittle lands on Justin’s face. Justin wants to wipe it away but won’t give JC the satisfaction. Instead Justin smiles, not the wide fake smile he’s perfected over the years but a private bitter smile that hurts his face.
“You’ve heard wrong. I’ve had three.” Justin says, and he smiles wider, baring his teeth as JC flinches, unable to hide his reaction. Because Justin knows JC hates him too. It’s hard not to know when JC’s staring down at him, mouth a thin line before he grabs for Justin’s hands and tries to flip him on his back.
Justin fights back, refusing to flip without a struggle. They roll around the floor, clashing into the cabinets as they battle for dominance. JC’s hands grip Justin’s arms in a savage hold that’s bound to bruise, and Justin holds handfuls of JC’s hair in his hands, pulling and tugging as JC screams and calls him a fucking girl. But Justin doesn’t care, just keeps tugging until strands of hair litter the floor.
“You fucking egotistical, bastard,” JC hisses and he lets go of Justin’s arm before slapping him hard across the face. The blow makes Justin’s head ring, and JC flips him over before he comes back to his senses. It’s all JC’s show now, and he pulls at Justin’s pants until Justin lifts his hips, giving JC access to get to the buttons.
With a jerk, JC pulls off Justin’s pants, leaving him bare assed and hard on the floor. Justin feels like a slut as JC straddles him, and Justin’s hands scrabble at the floor that’s slick with the blood that drips from his nose.
“I’m going to fuck you, baby,” JC says, and Justin nods desperately, he needs to be fucked, wants to feel the violence of the moment. It’s when he feels most alive, when JC’s thrusting into him, and the only thing that matters is the ache of his body and the heavy weight of the man on his back.
When JC’s comes he pulls away from Justin and stands, pulling up his pants. He says nothing, just looks at Justin while ignoring the blood that dribbles from his split lip, then leaves. Justin hears the front door slam while he’s still kneeling, bloody hand jerking his own dick, before he comes on his kitchen floor.
After, when Justin’s cleaning up, his stomach turns at the sight of come mixed with blood. He shuts his eyes and wipes it away, then strips his clothes and throws them in the garbage. Then wraps himself in a blanket and collapses on his couch, hand automatically reaching for his phone.
~*~*~*~*~
“You have to stop this,” Chris says, and he frowns as he gently feels Justin’s nose. Chris is being unusually quiet, and Justin wants to tell him it’s okay, he doesn’t need babying, but he says nothing. Just sits quietly as Chris puts ointment on his scratches and bruises.
“I want it.”
“I know you do. It’s the only reason, JC still has his dick,” Chris says it calmly but Justin knows he means every word. Chris’ temper is violent and quick, especially where his boys are concerned. JC is one of his boys too, but Justin knows he always comes first with Chris; it’s always been that way.
Chris thinks Justin’s in some kind of S&M relationship with JC, and Justin’s never told him otherwise. It’s easier that way, when his friends think JC and him get off on hurting one another. They wouldn’t believe the real reason. That Justin does it because he likes to hurt JC, to beat on him with bitterness and hate.
It’s the secret that they’ve agreed to never share. Because JC knows as well as Justin that no one will understand, that two so called brothers hate each other enough to hurt.
“It’s wrong, Justin. Look at you.” Chris sounds genuinely distressed and Justin hates that. He loves Chris, a pure love that’s untainted, and would do anything for him. That is, anything but give up this.
“I’m sorry,” Justin says, and he hisses when Chris presses extra hard on one of his bruises. “You don’t understand.”
“You’re right, I don’t,” Chris admits, and he stands, pushing the ointment back into the first-aid box. “But I know this. It’s getting worse, Justin. It used to be an occasional bust lip and nose. Now you and C look like road kill after you’ve seen each other. It’s going too far.”
Chris sounds worried, but Justin’s unconcerned. He can handle this, he can handle JC. Justin’s a fighter, always has been and he’s not going to give up how he feels when he’s fighting JC for anyone; even Chris.
“I’m okay, don’t worry.”
“Yeah, sure,” Chris replies, but he shuts up after that, curling on the couch next to Justin as they channel surf for a movie. Justin leans against him and closes his eyes, and works out how soon he can see JC.
~*~*~*~
“JC,” Justin stands at JC’s doorway, pleased when JC stops smiling when he sees him. JC bites at his lip, as if he’s unsure that he should let Justin in, so Justin pushes his way past, and runs his hand along JC’s stomach, smirking when JC shudders at the touch.
“What do you want? I’m busy,” JC says, and Justin stops and turns so he can see JC.
“Doing what? Working on your album that’s going to tank as soon as it’s released? Face it, there’s only one superstar here and it isn’t you.” Justin means every word, and he’s satisfied when JC’s face crumples. Then JC turns away and when he looks back he’s smiling, and Justin tenses for what he’s going to say.
“I might not be a superstar, but at least I’m not an ass licking fan boy like you. You’re pathetic with your little obsessions, like singing with hip bands will make you more than you are. You’re from a boyband, Justin, no more, no less. My stuff might not sell, but it’s mine.”
The words sting, and Justin feels his composure slip, but seeing JC so mad makes Justin’s body sing, and the numbness that usually surrounds him is swept away as JC glares at him. Then JC smiles, openly mocking, and Justin pounces.
He jumps at JC, slamming him against the wall. JC retaliates by punching Justin in the gut, a hard punch that leaves Justin gasping for air and they both punch and hit wildly. Justin feels something snap, and he spits as blood pours from his nose.
The sight of his blood splattered on JC’s white t-shirt gives Justin the ultimate rush, and he grins as he pushes JC to the ground. JC fights back, but Justin can feel he’s hard, and JC arches up, pressing against Justin’s groin.
Justin takes the hint and claws at JC’s shirt and pants, pulling them off with no regard to buttons or zips until JC’s lying naked on the floor. Justin can almost map the last times he’s seen JC from looking at his body. The bite on JC’s shoulder blade from two weeks ago, the black bruise on his ass from Thursday, it’s a map of hate for all to see, a match to the map Justin wears too.
“I hate you,” JC shouts, and Justin knows he means it, but JC still lewdly wiggles his hips in invitation.
“I’m going to fuck you,” Justin says, but first he kisses JC. Smearing both their faces, as Justin bites at JC’s lip, licking at his mouth with a blood slick tongue, as JC whispers I hate you, I hate you over and over.
Justin knows JC hates him, he also knows the hate is destroying them, and slowly destroying their friends as they have to stand by and watch. They used to be lovers, but now they’re two men on the road to ruin. Justin needs the hate to live, and as he fucks JC, he knows he needs JC too.
It’s going to end in disaster one day, when there’s one punch too many, or a word that cuts too deep. But Justin doesn’t care, as the adrenalin floods his body and JC whimpers below him, he knows he’ll never stop. Neither of them will, until they’re forced to stop, in the worst way possible.
Justin hopes it’s him that ends up dead, because he can’t lose JC. He hates him, but he loves him too, which is why stopping is impossible, for either of them.
*****
In other news, what I suspected about my Joey fic is true. It's confusing, makes no sense and I may just scrap the thing and start again. However, I now have a most disliked pairing, so yay for that *g*
RL wise, I woke up to what seemed a dead hamster, which would have been typical. James got Snowy from his cage and he was cold and stiff but started breathing again and trying to eat. He looks bad I have to admit, he's alive but I don't know for how long. The stupid thing keeps climbing along the top of his cage and falling down, which as it's a three story cage is a bad thing. I'm wondering if he fell and hit his head or something...sigh. I don't know.
Last thing. I don't know if you'll see this before you go, but
jencat004 knock their socks off, hon!
