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Jul. 2nd, 2004 06:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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interlock who wanted Joey taking care of someone. Which come on, had to be Chris ;)
Hope this is what you wanted, hon. Unbeta read and done fast, so excuse any mistakes.
The show must go on. It’s an old expression but one that’s always true. From amateur to professional productions, every performer knows the responsibility of putting on a show. Nsync are no different. Between them they’ve gone onstage with broken bones, twisted ankles and on many occasions had buckets hidden just off stage as stomachs protested unfamiliar food. It’s what they do, their job is to entertain and only the most serious ailment matters. Because once they take their places and the lights go up pain and sickness is swept away in a wave of noise and love better than any medicine.
Which is fine while they’re onstage, it’s after that’s the problem, when adrenalin drains away and post show highs crash suddenly into remembered pain. They all know what to look for, a stumbled step or barely hidden wince saying more than any words. Non verbal signals that prompt worried looks and sudden activity as they hurry to buses, knowing once the gloss is wiped away all that’s left is someone that needs time to heal.
Weakness is something they all try to hide, but sometimes it’s impossible and Joey stands guard as Chris bends almost double, gasping for breath after running off stage. Justin strips off his costume, dropping it into the waiting hands of wardrobe before draping a dressing gown over his shoulders. Taking another from an assistant he passes it to Joey, then looks worriedly at Chris.
“You okay?”
Chris doesn’t answer at first, just takes another deep breath then stands upright, wobbling a little until Joey steadies him. “I’m fine.” It’s a lie and they all know it, but they have to get to the buses, so take the statement at face value, at least for now.
“Here.” Aware of the time Joey quickly helps Chris pull on the dressing gown, then steers him toward the waiting buses as Justin runs ahead with his bodyguard. Chris walks slowly, something that proves more than any words how sick he really feels and they both stop next to the buses as Lance suddenly appears in the doorway of the three man bus.
“I’m riding in here tonight, take care of him,” Lance smiles, looking sympathetic then goes back inside as Joey and Chris are hustled inside their own bus by security.
“Come back here,” Joey says, and he gently pushes Chris toward the couch, making him sit as the bus sways and pulls away. “Stay there.”
“I’m not going anywhere, believe me,” Chris jokes as he wipes at his face with the arm of his dressing gown, smearing the white material with make up and sweat, before starting to lie back on the sofa.
“Wait,” Joey reaches into the bathroom and wets a towel before crouching down. Carefully he washes the make-up from Chris’ face, blushing a little as he looks at him with amusement.
“I could do that you know.”
“I know.” Joey doesn’t try to explain himself, just keeps on gently washing. With each stroke he exposes more pale skin and can feel the heat that dries the water within seconds. Briefly looking at Chris’ hair, Joey settles for using the damp towel until no gelled spikes remain, aware all the time of Chris’ tolerant gaze.
“You done?” Chris asks when the towel’s thrown to one side. He looks worse now, and Joey can’t help resting his hand on Chris’ forehead to check for fever.
“Will I live?” Chris is smiling so Joey smiles in return before standing.
“I think so, but you need to get out of those. Stand up a moment,” Holding out his hand, Joey pulls Chris to his feet, efficiently helping him out of his stage clothes. After years together neither care about nudity and soon Chris is curled in the corner of the sofa dressed in some of Joey’s clothes. Quickly changing himself, Joey hesitates a moment, unsure if Chris wants anyone close.
“Are you going to sit or not?” Chris opens his eyes and pats a place next to him, then shifts so he’s propped against Joey when he sits. “I think I’m sick.”
“You think?” Joey holds Chris against him, stroking his back which is hot to the touch. “You’ll be better soon.”
Chris nods then relaxes as he gives in to sleep. Joey doesn’t let go, he’ll be there as long as Chris needs him, however long that is.
interlock who wanted Joey taking care of someone. Which come on, had to be Chris ;)Hope this is what you wanted, hon. Unbeta read and done fast, so excuse any mistakes.
The show must go on. It’s an old expression but one that’s always true. From amateur to professional productions, every performer knows the responsibility of putting on a show. Nsync are no different. Between them they’ve gone onstage with broken bones, twisted ankles and on many occasions had buckets hidden just off stage as stomachs protested unfamiliar food. It’s what they do, their job is to entertain and only the most serious ailment matters. Because once they take their places and the lights go up pain and sickness is swept away in a wave of noise and love better than any medicine.
Which is fine while they’re onstage, it’s after that’s the problem, when adrenalin drains away and post show highs crash suddenly into remembered pain. They all know what to look for, a stumbled step or barely hidden wince saying more than any words. Non verbal signals that prompt worried looks and sudden activity as they hurry to buses, knowing once the gloss is wiped away all that’s left is someone that needs time to heal.
Weakness is something they all try to hide, but sometimes it’s impossible and Joey stands guard as Chris bends almost double, gasping for breath after running off stage. Justin strips off his costume, dropping it into the waiting hands of wardrobe before draping a dressing gown over his shoulders. Taking another from an assistant he passes it to Joey, then looks worriedly at Chris.
“You okay?”
Chris doesn’t answer at first, just takes another deep breath then stands upright, wobbling a little until Joey steadies him. “I’m fine.” It’s a lie and they all know it, but they have to get to the buses, so take the statement at face value, at least for now.
“Here.” Aware of the time Joey quickly helps Chris pull on the dressing gown, then steers him toward the waiting buses as Justin runs ahead with his bodyguard. Chris walks slowly, something that proves more than any words how sick he really feels and they both stop next to the buses as Lance suddenly appears in the doorway of the three man bus.
“I’m riding in here tonight, take care of him,” Lance smiles, looking sympathetic then goes back inside as Joey and Chris are hustled inside their own bus by security.
“Come back here,” Joey says, and he gently pushes Chris toward the couch, making him sit as the bus sways and pulls away. “Stay there.”
“I’m not going anywhere, believe me,” Chris jokes as he wipes at his face with the arm of his dressing gown, smearing the white material with make up and sweat, before starting to lie back on the sofa.
“Wait,” Joey reaches into the bathroom and wets a towel before crouching down. Carefully he washes the make-up from Chris’ face, blushing a little as he looks at him with amusement.
“I could do that you know.”
“I know.” Joey doesn’t try to explain himself, just keeps on gently washing. With each stroke he exposes more pale skin and can feel the heat that dries the water within seconds. Briefly looking at Chris’ hair, Joey settles for using the damp towel until no gelled spikes remain, aware all the time of Chris’ tolerant gaze.
“You done?” Chris asks when the towel’s thrown to one side. He looks worse now, and Joey can’t help resting his hand on Chris’ forehead to check for fever.
“Will I live?” Chris is smiling so Joey smiles in return before standing.
“I think so, but you need to get out of those. Stand up a moment,” Holding out his hand, Joey pulls Chris to his feet, efficiently helping him out of his stage clothes. After years together neither care about nudity and soon Chris is curled in the corner of the sofa dressed in some of Joey’s clothes. Quickly changing himself, Joey hesitates a moment, unsure if Chris wants anyone close.
“Are you going to sit or not?” Chris opens his eyes and pats a place next to him, then shifts so he’s propped against Joey when he sits. “I think I’m sick.”
“You think?” Joey holds Chris against him, stroking his back which is hot to the touch. “You’ll be better soon.”
Chris nods then relaxes as he gives in to sleep. Joey doesn’t let go, he’ll be there as long as Chris needs him, however long that is.
