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May. 2nd, 2004 03:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
turpsBetween going to the beach most of the day and rl stuff I didn't update yesterday, but I'm here now *g* It was a beautiful day yesterday so we went to the local beach with Tex and walked along the prom before having chips and garlic sauce for dinner. Which was the good, the bad was having to have a long talk about money again and the fact Corey has decided to start his teenage rebellion 5 years early...sigh. He's decided he doesn't need to get wash or dressed etc. He said no about a thousand times yesterday, to the extent he was threatened with grounding and no computer if he said it again.
But moving on,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
_jules_ won a ficlet from me ( poor girl ) and asked for sweet TrickC. Now this may be cheating a little because I have a few of these half finished scenes on my hard drive. They're scenes from Boxes that didn't make the cut for one reason or another, so I finished one for this ficlet. Jules, I don't even know if you've read my AU, but hopefully this can stand alone, all you need to know is they're homeless.
Chris wakes fast like always, body trained to jump from sleep to consciousness in seconds. Opening his eyes he rubs at them with his fists then slowly sits up, wincing as his back protests. His shelter is lined with newspaper and cardboard, but it only helps so much, and every morning he’s sore. Stretching, he brushes his fingers against the stars JC has painted on the roof. Then reluctantly pushes back the blankets before struggling to his knees, body protesting every movement.
“Chris,” JC suddenly appears at the shelter door, pushing the plastic aside. He smiles then comes inside, kneeling next to Chris before kissing him gently on the lips.
“Morning gorgeous,” Chris says, then kisses JC again. “You’re up early.”
“I had to finish something, come see.” JC is almost vibrating with excitement and Chris laughs as JC crawls outside then immediately looks back inside. “Well, come on then.”
“I’m coming, give me a minute,” Chris starts to crawl out, standing when he’s outside. He stretches again; enjoying the feel of fresh air against his skin, then runs his fingers through his hair, trying to untangle the worst of the knots. JC’s nowhere in sight but Joey is cross-legged on the ground, carefully restacking his magazines as Lance and Justin sit side by side, arguing over the answers to a cross-word.
“Hey, Chris,” Justin looks up and waves before looking at the puzzle again. Lance doesn’t even wave, just looks up and smiles and Chris has to smile too when he sees how they’re holding hands.
“Hey,” Chris replies then sits down and reaches into his shelter for his boots. Holding one up he examines the hole in the bottom, then pulls it on anyway, making a mental note to find more cardboard to line them with later.
“Chris! Hey, wait!” Chris looks up at JC’s shout and stops tying his laces. JC hurries from the corner, then stands hopping from one foot to the other, hands behind his back as he grins happily.
“What’s up?” Chris asks at last, when it looks like JC is going to remain silent.
“I’ve got you something,” JC says, showing Chris the boots he was hiding. Originally black, now they’re covered in pink flowers and green leaves that conceal almost every inch of the leather. The colours are almost neon bright and Chris is sure he can see glitter on there too. They’re showy, beautiful and something that Chris would never ever think of wearing.
“I was walking past this house. You know the white one with the bird hedges at West St. Someone had thrown them in the garbage just because they were a little scuffed. Can you imagine that? Throwing perfectly good clothes away. They looked like your size so I took them from on top of the trash can and brought them back. I used the paints you got for my birthday, I was going to do them black but they looked so drab so I painted a flower and flowers need leaves and….you don’t like them.” JC’s smile fades as he looks at Chris and he starts to turn.
“Hey, where’re you taking my boots,” Chris reaches for JC and hooks his leg, holding it tight. “They're wonderful, thank you.”
JC smile returns and he gracefully drops to the floor in front of Chris and starts to help him on with the boots, humming happily before looking up. “I can paint them black if you want.”
“Don’t you dare,” Chris replies, shivering as JC runs a finger across the bottom of his foot. “I love them.”
Deftly tying a lace, JC doesn’t reply, just double knots the bow then leans forward and kisses Chris quickly on the lips before jumping to his feet. Chris stands more slowly, then looks down at his feet. He imagines what he must look like, black t-shirt, black jeans and boots that look like an explosion in a jungle. He grins at the mental image then laughs when he sees Justin and Lance looking at him with barely hidden amusement.
Chris winks at them then links hands with JC, he’s well aware of how he looks, but he doesn’t care. He loves his boots and with every step he’s reminded of how much JC loves him, and that’s worth more than any future teasing.
ETA: Gah, tags are fixed, I'm an idiot :(
ETA2: There's a Lance ficathon?! Though it has to be said this is one ficathon I'm not tempted with at all. I love Lance but I can't write him to save my life. I tried to fade to black with him in the 100 Ways. I'm still traumatised by the JoLa thing for the Joey ficathon. Lance, I love you, but sorry hon. No writing from me.
But moving on,
_jules_ won a ficlet from me ( poor girl ) and asked for sweet TrickC. Now this may be cheating a little because I have a few of these half finished scenes on my hard drive. They're scenes from Boxes that didn't make the cut for one reason or another, so I finished one for this ficlet. Jules, I don't even know if you've read my AU, but hopefully this can stand alone, all you need to know is they're homeless.Chris wakes fast like always, body trained to jump from sleep to consciousness in seconds. Opening his eyes he rubs at them with his fists then slowly sits up, wincing as his back protests. His shelter is lined with newspaper and cardboard, but it only helps so much, and every morning he’s sore. Stretching, he brushes his fingers against the stars JC has painted on the roof. Then reluctantly pushes back the blankets before struggling to his knees, body protesting every movement.
“Chris,” JC suddenly appears at the shelter door, pushing the plastic aside. He smiles then comes inside, kneeling next to Chris before kissing him gently on the lips.
“Morning gorgeous,” Chris says, then kisses JC again. “You’re up early.”
“I had to finish something, come see.” JC is almost vibrating with excitement and Chris laughs as JC crawls outside then immediately looks back inside. “Well, come on then.”
“I’m coming, give me a minute,” Chris starts to crawl out, standing when he’s outside. He stretches again; enjoying the feel of fresh air against his skin, then runs his fingers through his hair, trying to untangle the worst of the knots. JC’s nowhere in sight but Joey is cross-legged on the ground, carefully restacking his magazines as Lance and Justin sit side by side, arguing over the answers to a cross-word.
“Hey, Chris,” Justin looks up and waves before looking at the puzzle again. Lance doesn’t even wave, just looks up and smiles and Chris has to smile too when he sees how they’re holding hands.
“Hey,” Chris replies then sits down and reaches into his shelter for his boots. Holding one up he examines the hole in the bottom, then pulls it on anyway, making a mental note to find more cardboard to line them with later.
“Chris! Hey, wait!” Chris looks up at JC’s shout and stops tying his laces. JC hurries from the corner, then stands hopping from one foot to the other, hands behind his back as he grins happily.
“What’s up?” Chris asks at last, when it looks like JC is going to remain silent.
“I’ve got you something,” JC says, showing Chris the boots he was hiding. Originally black, now they’re covered in pink flowers and green leaves that conceal almost every inch of the leather. The colours are almost neon bright and Chris is sure he can see glitter on there too. They’re showy, beautiful and something that Chris would never ever think of wearing.
“I was walking past this house. You know the white one with the bird hedges at West St. Someone had thrown them in the garbage just because they were a little scuffed. Can you imagine that? Throwing perfectly good clothes away. They looked like your size so I took them from on top of the trash can and brought them back. I used the paints you got for my birthday, I was going to do them black but they looked so drab so I painted a flower and flowers need leaves and….you don’t like them.” JC’s smile fades as he looks at Chris and he starts to turn.
“Hey, where’re you taking my boots,” Chris reaches for JC and hooks his leg, holding it tight. “They're wonderful, thank you.”
JC smile returns and he gracefully drops to the floor in front of Chris and starts to help him on with the boots, humming happily before looking up. “I can paint them black if you want.”
“Don’t you dare,” Chris replies, shivering as JC runs a finger across the bottom of his foot. “I love them.”
Deftly tying a lace, JC doesn’t reply, just double knots the bow then leans forward and kisses Chris quickly on the lips before jumping to his feet. Chris stands more slowly, then looks down at his feet. He imagines what he must look like, black t-shirt, black jeans and boots that look like an explosion in a jungle. He grins at the mental image then laughs when he sees Justin and Lance looking at him with barely hidden amusement.
Chris winks at them then links hands with JC, he’s well aware of how he looks, but he doesn’t care. He loves his boots and with every step he’s reminded of how much JC loves him, and that’s worth more than any future teasing.
ETA: Gah, tags are fixed, I'm an idiot :(
ETA2: There's a Lance ficathon?! Though it has to be said this is one ficathon I'm not tempted with at all. I love Lance but I can't write him to save my life. I tried to fade to black with him in the 100 Ways. I'm still traumatised by the JoLa thing for the Joey ficathon. Lance, I love you, but sorry hon. No writing from me.
