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Apr. 14th, 2006 12:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
turpsWe've just came in from seeing Alien Autopsy. A film that's pretty forgettable except for the fact the stars are the most awesome Ant and Dec. Ant and Dec, you have to love them, I mean, if nothing else they're utterly devoted to one another and that's always a good thing.
When we first went to the cinema I met one of my old friends. We went to school together about a million years ago and were pretty tight. Since then I haven't seen her at all, so we were doing that awkward catch up thing, you know, what's going on in your life etc. So, I ask if she's with anyone and she goes all red and stammers, all you probably won't know, I mean why should you, it's just....erm.....I'm here....you see. I've got a girlfriend and what do I say? That's cool. Oh yes, 16 years later and I show I'm still the biggest dork ever.
Anyway. Yes, we saw the movie and now I'm home, obviously. I've watched a load of tv today because Corey's on Easter break and was using Silver, so I've caught up a little with Prison Break and am up to date with Supernatural and House.
As I obviously have a lack of content here, have the drabbles I did for that meme, some better than others I have to admit. They're in
TrickC
It’s not romantic at all.
It’s hot and nasty, fighting for dominance, bites and nips as they tumble onto the bed. Clothes torn and insults flying as a glass shatters against the floor. As the telephone is upended, creating a constant background burr as JC’s sinks his teeth into Chris’ neck, as Chris rakes his nails across skin.
They pant and snarl, bruising kisses and untamed touches.
It looks like hate, but isn’t at all. Instead each scratch, each bruise spells out I love you Words never spoken but still known as they finally sleep in each other’s arms.
Locatrick
The bike gleams in the low light, scarlet flames climbing over shining chrome, the purr of a perfectly tuned engine cutting through the air. Chris looks toward the house, clunky silver-toed boots planted firmly on the floor, the bike held steady between his thighs.
He waits, impatience obvious as he drums black-gloved fingers against silver handle-bars, then that impatience is swept away by a smile. Eyes alight as he shuffles forward, allowing Loca room, her body pressed close as she rides pillion, warm against his back as they prepare to drive. Take off into the night and leave reality behind.
TrickC
“Morning,” JC says. He’s half asleep and leans heavily, eyes closed and arms over Chris’ shoulders, swaying together as the bus turns.
“Technically you say afternoon after twelve.”
JC’s unconcerned about actual time. Instead he shuffles, steps blindly mirroring Chris’ as they move from fridge to counter.
“Here.”
Chris holds up the mug and waits for JC to sip. The coffee is perfect, strong and laced with sugar, just what JC needs this morning after the night before.
“Thanks.” He signals for another drink, smiling when Chris responds with a long suffering sigh, then holds up the mug once more.
Feel Universe
Lance sits in the huge tub. Water laps at his chest and his knees surface like two pale islands in a sea of bubbles. His hair is damp, sleek against his head, his cheeks flushed with heat. He leans forward, wings flared up and out, shining feathers reflecting the light.
Lance sighs and closes his eyes as Chris delves for a sponge, running it over the feathers, carefully ensuring each one is clean.
Sensing Chris’ attention is focussed only on Lance, JC steps away from the door. Wanting badly to go inside, but still unsure of his place or welcome.
Feel Universe
Lance loved them all.
He loved when Chris lay on their bed, arms and legs outstretched, whimpers muffled into a pillow, feathers escaping through a horn shaped hole.
He loved when Joey knelt naked. His hair crimson against the pale skin of Lance’s parted thighs. His tail wrapped around Lance’s ankle, anchoring him to the ground.
He loved when JC basked. Scales shining and eyes closed as he stretched in the sun. The curve of his back addictive to all watching eyes.
He loved when Justin stood in his arms. Tension banished with careful stubby-horned massage and a beaming smile.
Lance/JC/Chris
Lance is stretched in the middle of their specially made bed for three. His hands white gripped around the headboard, mental curves digging into his palms.
JC looks back over his shoulder, curls wild and lips damp, his hands resting over the curve of Lance’s hip. The touch soft in contrast to the rasp of stubble as Chris nibbles a trail, grinning against sensitive skin as he makes Lance squirm.
It’s impossible to remain still, and Lance doesn’t even try. Lost under the touch of those he loves the most, always knowing they’ll catch him when he finally falls apart.
Boxes Universe
Chris lies huddled in the pile of ratty blankets. It’s bitterly cold and his breath mists in the air as he shivers, trying to push away the unwanted memories that grow stronger through the bitter grip of night.
“Chris?”
JC’s a blurred shape in the dark, movement under material as he wiggles close.
“Try to sleep.”
His voice is rough, a whisper of warmth against frozen skin as he takes Chris’ hands, wrapping them in his own.
“I’ll try,” Chris says, and he gently runs his thumb over JC’s hand, clinging to that comfort until finally he can fall asleep.
Boxes Universe
Memories awaken as Joey stands in his kitchen. There’s an open bottle in his hand, a glass on the counter, ready to be filled.
It’s too easy. There should be raging guilt, not this mindless resignation, the realisation that he’s too tired to fight.
He’s lost this battle, and is about to lose the war.
An inch of vodka, and he swigs it back, gasping at the burn, an old friend returning to say hello.
He pours again, glass full, slopping over the rim as he walks.
Sitting, he listens to the silence of his room and drinks once more.
JuC
They’re amped on adrenalin, clothes soaked through as they run from the stage, skin tingling from thousands of screams. Grins and laughter as they sprint headlong, towels draped over their shoulders, scrambling onto the bus where the clutch at each other and giggle, riding the post show high.
The bus pulls away, vibrating under their feet as they kiss; licking at sweat warm skin, outfits pulled off and dropped to the floor. They fold down, Justin’ back against a rainbow of clothes, JC above him, hours of belonging to others stripped away, as they focus on one another once more.
And now I go do modly stuff. Thank goodness for time zones *g*
When we first went to the cinema I met one of my old friends. We went to school together about a million years ago and were pretty tight. Since then I haven't seen her at all, so we were doing that awkward catch up thing, you know, what's going on in your life etc. So, I ask if she's with anyone and she goes all red and stammers, all you probably won't know, I mean why should you, it's just....erm.....I'm here....you see. I've got a girlfriend and what do I say? That's cool. Oh yes, 16 years later and I show I'm still the biggest dork ever.
Anyway. Yes, we saw the movie and now I'm home, obviously. I've watched a load of tv today because Corey's on Easter break and was using Silver, so I've caught up a little with Prison Break and am up to date with Supernatural and House.
As I obviously have a lack of content here, have the drabbles I did for that meme, some better than others I have to admit. They're in
TrickC
It’s not romantic at all.
It’s hot and nasty, fighting for dominance, bites and nips as they tumble onto the bed. Clothes torn and insults flying as a glass shatters against the floor. As the telephone is upended, creating a constant background burr as JC’s sinks his teeth into Chris’ neck, as Chris rakes his nails across skin.
They pant and snarl, bruising kisses and untamed touches.
It looks like hate, but isn’t at all. Instead each scratch, each bruise spells out I love you Words never spoken but still known as they finally sleep in each other’s arms.
Locatrick
The bike gleams in the low light, scarlet flames climbing over shining chrome, the purr of a perfectly tuned engine cutting through the air. Chris looks toward the house, clunky silver-toed boots planted firmly on the floor, the bike held steady between his thighs.
He waits, impatience obvious as he drums black-gloved fingers against silver handle-bars, then that impatience is swept away by a smile. Eyes alight as he shuffles forward, allowing Loca room, her body pressed close as she rides pillion, warm against his back as they prepare to drive. Take off into the night and leave reality behind.
TrickC
“Morning,” JC says. He’s half asleep and leans heavily, eyes closed and arms over Chris’ shoulders, swaying together as the bus turns.
“Technically you say afternoon after twelve.”
JC’s unconcerned about actual time. Instead he shuffles, steps blindly mirroring Chris’ as they move from fridge to counter.
“Here.”
Chris holds up the mug and waits for JC to sip. The coffee is perfect, strong and laced with sugar, just what JC needs this morning after the night before.
“Thanks.” He signals for another drink, smiling when Chris responds with a long suffering sigh, then holds up the mug once more.
Feel Universe
Lance sits in the huge tub. Water laps at his chest and his knees surface like two pale islands in a sea of bubbles. His hair is damp, sleek against his head, his cheeks flushed with heat. He leans forward, wings flared up and out, shining feathers reflecting the light.
Lance sighs and closes his eyes as Chris delves for a sponge, running it over the feathers, carefully ensuring each one is clean.
Sensing Chris’ attention is focussed only on Lance, JC steps away from the door. Wanting badly to go inside, but still unsure of his place or welcome.
Feel Universe
Lance loved them all.
He loved when Chris lay on their bed, arms and legs outstretched, whimpers muffled into a pillow, feathers escaping through a horn shaped hole.
He loved when Joey knelt naked. His hair crimson against the pale skin of Lance’s parted thighs. His tail wrapped around Lance’s ankle, anchoring him to the ground.
He loved when JC basked. Scales shining and eyes closed as he stretched in the sun. The curve of his back addictive to all watching eyes.
He loved when Justin stood in his arms. Tension banished with careful stubby-horned massage and a beaming smile.
Lance/JC/Chris
Lance is stretched in the middle of their specially made bed for three. His hands white gripped around the headboard, mental curves digging into his palms.
JC looks back over his shoulder, curls wild and lips damp, his hands resting over the curve of Lance’s hip. The touch soft in contrast to the rasp of stubble as Chris nibbles a trail, grinning against sensitive skin as he makes Lance squirm.
It’s impossible to remain still, and Lance doesn’t even try. Lost under the touch of those he loves the most, always knowing they’ll catch him when he finally falls apart.
Boxes Universe
Chris lies huddled in the pile of ratty blankets. It’s bitterly cold and his breath mists in the air as he shivers, trying to push away the unwanted memories that grow stronger through the bitter grip of night.
“Chris?”
JC’s a blurred shape in the dark, movement under material as he wiggles close.
“Try to sleep.”
His voice is rough, a whisper of warmth against frozen skin as he takes Chris’ hands, wrapping them in his own.
“I’ll try,” Chris says, and he gently runs his thumb over JC’s hand, clinging to that comfort until finally he can fall asleep.
Boxes Universe
Memories awaken as Joey stands in his kitchen. There’s an open bottle in his hand, a glass on the counter, ready to be filled.
It’s too easy. There should be raging guilt, not this mindless resignation, the realisation that he’s too tired to fight.
He’s lost this battle, and is about to lose the war.
An inch of vodka, and he swigs it back, gasping at the burn, an old friend returning to say hello.
He pours again, glass full, slopping over the rim as he walks.
Sitting, he listens to the silence of his room and drinks once more.
JuC
They’re amped on adrenalin, clothes soaked through as they run from the stage, skin tingling from thousands of screams. Grins and laughter as they sprint headlong, towels draped over their shoulders, scrambling onto the bus where the clutch at each other and giggle, riding the post show high.
The bus pulls away, vibrating under their feet as they kiss; licking at sweat warm skin, outfits pulled off and dropped to the floor. They fold down, Justin’ back against a rainbow of clothes, JC above him, hours of belonging to others stripped away, as they focus on one another once more.
And now I go do modly stuff. Thank goodness for time zones *g*
