(no subject)
Sep. 5th, 2006 02:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
turpsI read the most horrific story last night. Josh, James and Justin. Chris and Joey were sent away to get shopping because obviously they were too ugly to stay. There was weeping and terrible typos. James was having feelings about Josh and Justin, and waxed lyrical to himself about those two hot twinks. What got me was the writer had the nerve to post writing tips at the end of his story, but totally ignored his own rules. I mean, names in brackets to show who's talking? Not good. Neither are inserted links and authors notes in a story, or calling Lance, Jamie. Thank goodness there were only three chapters.
I've seen mention of the five things meme around, and really, what better way to get back into things than lists? Lists are good. They drive away memories of stories that should never be read. Therefore, hit me with the five things. I'll do my best to deliver. Any of my fandoms, because I do have more than one, really I do.
Corey went back to school today. He decided that he wanted to walk there and back alone, and I've always told him that he could do so in his last year. And now that year has come. It's a safe walk, but still. When did he grow up?
Once he'd left we had to take the cats for their inoculations. Poor Freesia was wailing like crazy when we were taking her. I think she thought she was going back to the rescue home. But, they're done now, and are happily asleep on the couches.
That's it for this exciting instalment of the life of Terri.
I've seen mention of the five things meme around, and really, what better way to get back into things than lists? Lists are good. They drive away memories of stories that should never be read. Therefore, hit me with the five things. I'll do my best to deliver. Any of my fandoms, because I do have more than one, really I do.
Corey went back to school today. He decided that he wanted to walk there and back alone, and I've always told him that he could do so in his last year. And now that year has come. It's a safe walk, but still. When did he grow up?
Once he'd left we had to take the cats for their inoculations. Poor Freesia was wailing like crazy when we were taking her. I think she thought she was going back to the rescue home. But, they're done now, and are happily asleep on the couches.
That's it for this exciting instalment of the life of Terri.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-09-05 01:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-05 01:56 pm (UTC)You couldn't resist could you? ;)
But for you, anything. Watch for a later post.
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Date: 2006-09-05 04:05 pm (UTC)Gah! My paid time has ran out. I have no JC icons.
~*~*~*~
The game's this big deal now. Boyband v boyband, and Justin and Chris just won't shut up! Blah blah blah ... going to take Backstreet down ... blah blah blah ... show them what real basketball players look like. It's enough to make JC's head hurt. He doesn't even like basketball that much. Sure, he'll watch it, but actually enjoy it? Nope. He does like the hot dogs though, and watching the cheerleaders, those flippy skirts are cool.
Now he's standing on court and expected to score. He's got the ball jammed between his chest and arm, and everyone is looking at him, waiting for him to make the shot. Which hello, do they even know him? JC rubs his palm against his thigh, wiping away nervous sweat, pushing past the nerves that lie heavy in his belly. There's a hush as he lines up the shot, then AJ is shouting You're gonna miss, Nsuck!
He's loud, and JC shoots wild, the ball bouncing toward the stand. It's scooped up by Nick, and he's running down the court, grinning and ignoring the shouts of cheat. JC prepares to run too, but first he looks over at AJ. AJ who knows JC so well. AJ who knew exactly what to do.
A brief smile, and they're running. Opposite teams for now, but JC suspects this thing they've got going could be love after all.
~*~*~*~
JC hates Europe. He hates Germany. He hates his bandmates. He hates his stupid body that aches every night. He hates having enough money for only one call home. He especially hates the feel of his wet pillow as he lies in his bed.
His hands fist in the blankets when someone knocks at the door. He doesn't want to see anyone, not tonight. There's another knock, then the sound of something being pushed under the door.
Curiosity wins out, and JC untangles himself. He wipes at his eyes and carefully kneels, picking up the envelope. It's pink, glittering in the dim light. There's a lipsticked kiss on the outside, and he's about to crumple it up when the writing catches his eye. He knows that writing, and JC sits with a thump, resting with his back to the wall. He opens the envelope, shakes out a phone card and a squished candy bar onto his lap.
JC loves AJ.
~*~*~*~
AJ's lying on the kitchen floor. He's in a pool of liquid, mostly spilled jack but there's vomit in there too. Vomit and piss, soaked into AJ's pants, his shirt stained and ruined. JC kneels, rests his hand over AJ's chest, checking he's alive.
He is. This time.
It's easy to scoop AJ into his arms. AJ's head against JC's neck, breath foul, clothes sodden. Carefully, JC climbs the stairs, takes AJ to the guest room with the baby wipes and plastic covered mattress. He sets him down, efficiently strips and cleans. Leaves AJ sleeping while JC washes clothes and mops the floor.
He doesn't think as he cleans. It's best not to, just remembers that he loves AJ, and that will never change.
~*~*~*~
JC's only cried once through this whole thing.
My name is AJ McLean and I'm an alcoholic.
JC's never loved him more.
~*~*~*~
They've kept it secret for years, hiding despite the glare of the media that shadowed their every move.
JC can't help grinning as he waits to 'casually' meet AJ. A so called unplanned meeting, a photo opportunity that really means so much more. Checking his outfit one last time, JC steps into the room. Already searching for AJ, ready for the pictures that'll say so much while showing nothing at all.
AJ sees him, waving as he crosses the room. Prowling, eyes alive with happiness. Once again, JC couldn't love him more.
no subject
Date: 2006-09-05 01:07 pm (UTC)Five of JC's fantasies involving Chris.
Five possible titles of songs from JC's new album.
Please and thank you ;)
no subject
Date: 2006-09-05 01:57 pm (UTC)You've got it. I'll post later :)
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Date: 2006-09-06 12:51 pm (UTC)Five of JC's fantasies involving Chris.
JC loves Chris' voice, but sometimes he just won't shut up! Curled on the ratty backstage couch, JC imagines Chris on his knees. He'd be on a cushion, hands tied behind his back. But best of all he'd have a ball gag in his mouth. The leather would be tied tight, dark straps against pale skin. There'd be quiet then, blessed quiet and JC would be able to relax, and just enjoy the sight.
~*~*~*~
Despite the image, JC isn't as experienced as he seems. He's tried lots of things but not everything. Lately he's found himself watching Chris, and it's weird, because he's never been attracted to him before. But now, now he can't look away. He wants to touch, wants to feels Chris' hands wrapped around his wrists. It's all so confusing and JC's in the middle of this sexual freak out, and it's not like he can tell anyone because, well, because it's Chris.
So JC watches, and uses his laptop in the dead of night. He's bookmarked a load of sites, instructional guides and he props his laptop onto a pile of cushions as he bends his leg, nervous as he slides slippery fingers over his ass. He carefully pushes one finger inside, and it feels weird, good but weird. He finger fucks himself slowly, shallow thrusts and he nips his lip between his teeth as he gets deeper, imagining Chris all the while.
~*~*~*~
Joey gave JC a gag gift once. It's a book detailing 1001 sexual practices, JC's up to 202. It's a favourite, there's something thrilling about public sex and JC's spent hours thinking of the perfect scenario. A concert, thousands of fans, fireworks exploding as he pushes Chris against one of the bulls, holds his hands up high as he pulls down their pants, grinding together as the screams explode over their skin.
Of course it'll never happen, but that doesn't stop JC's imagination. Dick in one hand, the imagined screams echoing in his head.
~*~*~*~
JC loves to pretend Chris is a virgin. It means a night of wooing, dinner and holding hands. Slow kisses and careful removal of clothes. JC whispering words of reassurance in Chris' ear as he pushes inside.
On those nights Chris is gentle and submissive, his usual nature dampened down. JC loves him like that. Sometimes he worries he loves it too much, and his side of their relationship is based on what could be, and not what they have at all.
~*~*~*~
So JC has a thing for feather dusters. It's not weird or anything, feathers are very sensual things. As for the clingfilm. Well, it's not like he wanted to wrap it around Chris' head. Okay, maybe at first, but he would have left holes. He's not stupid. And okay, maybe everyone can't see the appeal of jello, but it feels nice when you slide through it. He's a millionaire, he can fill the pool with the stuff if he wants. Well, the paddling pool anyway. It's not like Bri will use it again this year. Chris had no right to laugh, none at all.
~*~*~*~
Five possible titles of songs from JC's new album.
Boom Shaka Boom. The shake your ass remix.
Swagger aka ( Slept With All the Group Greatly Enjoyed Result)
Like Seagulls to the Ocean
Scream Like You Mean It.
Down With Doggie
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From:no subject
Date: 2006-09-05 01:13 pm (UTC)Five things Brennan loves about Jesse
Five times Jim outsmarted Blair
no subject
Date: 2006-09-05 01:59 pm (UTC)I've never attempted a word of SPN but I'm looking forward to trying.
Watch for the post later :)
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-09-06 10:33 pm (UTC)~*~*~*~
Five times Dean never had sex with Sam when he really should have
They've been tracking this bastard for days now. A new town, and they arrive to tell tale signs. Charred trees, their branches snapped and trailing to the floor. Townsfolk with empty eyes, hunched over and broken inside. It's too late, they're always too late.
All they can do is push past the grasping hands, keep looking forward, never back.
Dean's back itches as he eases into his car, slow, steady, don't show the nerves that clench down his spine. Shut the door, wait until Sam's inside, then squeal away, creating dust that conceals the crowd, death hidden in a swirling cloud.
"All those people." Sam's fingers are tapping against the window, one two three, and he's hunched up small, knees up, eyes hidden behind a sweep of hair. Dean wants to comfort him, but there's nothing to say. Death is ingrained in their skin this week.
"If we'd gone faster...." Dean keeps driving, it was impossible to go faster, and Sam knows that. "If we'd got there earlier. It's all so senseless."
Dean shifts in his seat, presses the pedal that little bit faster, pushing his car to the limit.
"All those people."
Sam's working up into an almighty brood, and Dean needs to nip this in the bud. "Sam...." The words dry in his mouth, crumbling into dust when Sam's hand lands in Dean's lap, stroking, fingers massaging. The movements are jerky, painful in their intensity, and Dean tries to move away. "What the fuck?"
"I'm sick of death, Dean." Sam's looking forward, staring into the darkness.
"This isn't the answer." Dean takes Sam's hand, moving it to the side. They keep driving, silent, tracking.
Later, when Dean's alone, he wonders if things could have been different. If stopping back then would have changed anything. Thing is, he'll never know.
~*~*~*~
It's a stupid bet. The first to jack off, to come, scores the rooms for the next five towns. Easy yeah? Dean finds it isn't easy at all. He feels like he's thirteen again, throwing a boner at the slightest thing. A breeze across his crotch, the feel of his fingers when he takes a piss, hell, he'd nearly creamed his pants watching the waitress chew on her pen.
It sucks, but it's a matter of pride now, no way will he let Sam win.
"Dean."
Dean gulps and looks away. But it's too late, he's already seen Sam walk across the room. Naked, hair slicked back, beads of water glistening on his skin. It's not fair and Sam's a bastard.
"Dean, this is stupid. Forget the bet and come here."
Sam's patting the bed, an obvious invitation. Dean screws shut his eyes, recites Latin curses until the throbbing in his dick goes away.
~*~*~*~
They've learned a lot on those road trips, countless miles eaten in the dead of night. Often they listen to music, Dean tapping the steering wheel as Sam curls up to sleep. Other times they talk. Some words are easier exchanged in the dead of night, becoming softer, slipping free of traps that have held them for years.
Numerous journeys and Sam learns that Dean plays for both sides, but despite that choice, loneliness gnaws at his insides. It's a heavy knowledge, Sam's known love, and wants Dean to know it too. To understand that love choked in duty isn't the best he can do. Sam can provide that love, offers it on yet another journey. See the wants in Dean's eyes, even as he says no.
~*~*~*~
They'd had this argument, this stupid argument about nothing at all. Now Sam's left in the hotel room, bad porn and hand lotion followed by a night of sleeping alone. Dean pays for it through, and Sam delights in watching each scratch, each squirm. Until finally he relents, and they visit the chemist in the next town.
~*~*~*~
It isn't often Dean gets embarrassed, but faced with a roomful of women and a camera he feels the telltale heat of a blush. It's not that they want to film him, he's been asked that before. But filming him with Sam? That has to be a no.
It doesn't matter how hungry he is, how badly they need a room. What he has with Sam is special, and no way will he share it with the world.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-09-05 01:15 pm (UTC)Five things. *ponders*
Five ways Chris never thought he'd get with JC. Tell me you didn't see that coming? *g*
no subject
Date: 2006-09-05 02:01 pm (UTC)Trickc! So much love for those five things, and you for suggesting it.
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From:no subject
Date: 2006-09-05 01:29 pm (UTC)and amazing how quickly the kiddies grow up, eh?
no subject
Date: 2006-09-05 02:02 pm (UTC)I'm sure it was only yesterday Corey started school. Now he's got one year left then he's in secondary school. It's scary how time flies.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-09-05 01:38 pm (UTC)Someone mentioned titles for JCs album. Could put a spin on that and have Five titles for Chris'/Nigel's 11 album. LOL or
Five songs Chris has written about JC.
no subject
Date: 2006-09-05 02:03 pm (UTC)Watch out for a later post :)
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
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From:no subject
Date: 2006-09-05 01:42 pm (UTC)(I've never been able to read a really bad fic. My back-button reflex hits before I delve too far into them.
And since I see the love for the TrickC in your list, allow me.
Five things Joey wants to tell Chris.
no subject
Date: 2006-09-05 02:04 pm (UTC)I love how your brain works. Yes, that's exactly what I'll do.
Choey! Glee! I'll do that for sure.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-09-05 02:04 pm (UTC)And just so you know, I'll read a fic, even if it's bad until the first time I see the word "Josh". Then the back button gets hit and I forget all about it. (Except for that one time I got all wrapped up in those really bad mpreg fics you talked about....)
You can't really blink around the kids, every time you do, it seems like they grow up more. *puts bricks on their heads to try to make them stay young*
Poor kitties... the pups get liek that too, they are all excited to be going somewhere in the car until we pull up at the vet's door. Then it's every dog for themselves as I try to get them out of the car and inside the building. o.O
Five things JC thinks about when he's taking himself in hand.....
*eyebrow waggle*
no subject
Date: 2006-09-05 02:08 pm (UTC)It amazes me how time flies with kids. Corey's still my baby, but really, he's about ready to go to big school. It's scary.
Five things JC thinks about when he's taking himself in hand.....
That's easy.
(1) Chris.
(2) Chris.
(3) Chris.
(4) Chris.
(5) Chris.
;)
No, great suggestion. Look for the answers soon :)
(no subject)
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From:no subject
Date: 2006-09-05 02:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-03 12:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-05 03:09 pm (UTC)Poor kitties!! Lancecat's only been to the vet once so I have no idea how he'll react the next time I take him. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that he'll be as cool about it as Sinbad was!
Five things Kevin would love to do with his Boys! Five things hitman!Kevin dreams about at night. Five things Lance and Kevin would never ever do together.
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Date: 2006-09-08 06:24 pm (UTC)Okay, five things below. Sorry they're so short.
~*~*~*~
Five things hitman!Kevin dreams about at night.
Kevin doesn't think about the blood and tears, but sometimes they seep into his dreams. A parade of featureless faces, begging words, the taste of fear tainting the air. He dreams of hands stretched toward him, fingers clenching at his arm in appeal. Pools of dark blood and white splintered bone.
When he wakes those images are pushed aside, thought of no more.
~*~*~*~
Nick's smiling, baggy shorts and sloppy t-shirt, a take out coffee in each hand. His shadow is long, stretching across the sidewalk, the sunlight glints in his hair. There's a shot, a crack fracturing the air. Nick staggers, the cups fall to the ground, coffee exploding outwards. He collapses down, onto his knees, his side, and the yellow of his t-shirt is drenched in blood.
Kevin yells, runs forward, hands pressed hard against Nick's side. Blood seeps through his fingers, trails down his wrists and drips to the floor. Gasping breaths and Nick looks up, eyes wide and frightened. There's blood on his teeth when he tries to talk.
~*~*~*~
Kevin's brothers are being mean, not letting him play with their toys. He clambers onto mommy and daddy's bed, bare feet slipping on the pale blue cover. They're sleeping and Kevin shakes them, little hands against the pale pink of a nightshirt, the white cotton of a shirt.
He dreams of those details, but never their faces. Those details have been lost in time, another strike against those bastards who ruined his life.
~*~*~*~
Running. Always running. Knowing he's going to be too late.
~*~*~*~
He dreams of children, a home with a garden, flowers and trees. Sleeping deeply with no fear, no worries about revenge. Having someone to love him, be by his side. Make dinner and sing along to the radio, have telephone numbers he can actually write down.
Kevin loves that dream, but hates it too. Because sometimes it's better to dream of blood, at least that's real.
~*~*~*~
F ive things Kevin would love to do with his Boys!
Kevin wants to go sailing with Nick. Pack a small bag and just go. No responsibilities, no deadlines, no lists of things that he has to do. He wants to lie basking in the sun, book pages fluttering in the breeze. The sound of gulls merging with Nick's chatter as they pull up anchor and sail away.
Howie likes to dance, can do choreography in his sleep. Most of all though, he likes to salsa, and Kevin loves to dance with him in the deserted studio. Howie's hands on his hand and waist. The steps wrong but not caring as they laugh through each twirl and twist.
Brian is family, and Kevin imagines him waiting in hospital, sitting on an uncomfortable plastic chair. Kevin wants to walk out of a room, a tiny bundle in his arms. Pull back soft blankets and watch Brian's smile, beaming wide as he holds his niece the first time.
Kevin wants to greet AJ one day and see the relief that he's come back has been swept away. He needs AJ to believe that just because he's gone, doesn't mean he's not there. Phonecalls, meetings, conversations in the dark hours of night. Kevin's still there for them all, even if it's changed from before.
Kevin wants to talk to Lou. He doesn't want a confrontation, or to brag about what they've achieved. Lou knows all that, he knows about the awards, the sales, and Kevin hopes the knowledge chokes him. No, what Kevin wants to do is gather his boys, stand next to Lou and say, guess what? We're successful, we're happy, and it's got nothing to do with you.
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From:no subject
Date: 2006-09-05 03:33 pm (UTC)Did you see this post (http://lucylooo.livejournal.com/1778077.html) by
no subject
Date: 2006-09-08 06:26 pm (UTC)Thank you so much!
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Date: 2006-09-05 05:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-07 01:17 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-09-05 06:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-05 06:26 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-09-05 07:02 pm (UTC)Five Sexual Positions Which, With Hindsight, JC Probably Shouldn't Have Tried...But Did.
Five Times Joey Woke Up With No Pants, No Money, And No Memory Of How He Got There...But Still Kept His Cool.
Five Guys Lance Definitely Wasn't Going To Have Sex With, Like, Ever...Until The Tequila Got Involved.
Five Times Justin Was Pretty Sure He Was Still Straight...But Turned Out To Be Wrong, Again.
Bonus points and my eternal love if Brian features...well, pretty much anywhere, reallty.
no subject
Date: 2006-09-05 11:59 pm (UTC)Five things Brian knows but does not tell his wife
Five things Brian knows about Joey, but does not tell anyone
Five things Brian wishes he'd done before he got married
Five things that Kevin pretends he never noticed.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-09-05 08:09 pm (UTC)I'm trying to come up with a five things prompt that would make you write me JuC, but I can't think of anything. Just write 5 happy JuC things, fictional or real, I don't care! ;)
no subject
Date: 2006-09-12 03:32 pm (UTC)Okay, JuC. You meanie! ;)
~*~*~*~
Justin feels like hell. Not that he shows it, he’s the master of plastered on smiles, feigning interest as his lungs wheeze and illness tightens his chest.
“Hey, can I steal him a moment?” Beaming smile and perfect politeness, but JC’s fingers are around Justin’s arm, pulling him away before anyone has a chance to protest.
Justin allows himself to be led away, always smiling, accepting shouted congratulations with the perfect inflection of humbleness and pride.
“In here.” JC looks around then pushes open a door. They walk inside, past the racks filled with coats, long rows filling the room. There’s a woman sitting near the door, a book of tickets open at her feet. Justin’s smile brightens, but she only glances up when they first walk inside, then goes back to her puzzle, chewing at a pen as she scowls down at the magazine in her lap.
“She’s fine, come on.” JC pushes past another rack, and Justin can’t help wondering how much he’s paid for her silence. When he sees the couch, shadowed and secluded behind the coats, he knows it can’t be enough.
The cushions are threadbare, over stuffed in a hideous pattern of violet and black. Justin sinks down onto them, pulling off his tie as he curls into a corner, resting his head against the arm. Eyes closing, his smile slips away.
“Here.”
Justin forces his eyes open, watching as JC opens his jacket, pulling a bottle of water from the inside pocket. Justin smiles again, but this smile doesn’t hurt his face. “Thanks.” He takes a long drink, grimacing as his throat protests, then settles back again.
“I’ll wake you when we have to go.” JC’s heavy against Justin’s side, his hand against Justin’s side, on guard and watching always.
~*~*~*~
It was never a thing. Justin hadn’t been pining after JC for years. It just didn’t happen that way.
So Justin can’t understand why it feels like his universe is washed in sunshine. Why he feels like dancing. Why things just feel right when he looks at JC, naked and sleeping in his bed.
~*~*~*~
Feet pounding against the walkway, JC runs up and up, above the swaying ocean of people watching their every move. He hits his mark, holds his hands up high. It’s impossible to stand still, and JC bounces to the music that surrounds him, waves at the crowd that scream his name.
Footsteps are lost in the crash of noise, but JC feels the walkway shake, knows Justin is running to join him. He only stays for seconds, slapping hands, grin wide. Then he’s gone, racing downwards, JC right behind.
~*~*~*~
Justin keeps an old sneaker box at his mom’s house. He looks at it sometimes, the contents scattered around him as he sits on the floor. Newspaper clippings are nestled next to ticket stubs and letters all covered in fine crystals of sand. The shells are dull but the magic remains, memories of a hot sun and a stormy ocean, the wind whipping through the dunes as the picnic blanket blows away. The ribbon comes from Britney’s hair. Justin always winds that around his fingers, lost in simpler years.
There’s nothing representing JC. His memories last more than one specific time, past vows of friendship that crumble with age. JC’s different. His memories are still being made.
~*~*~*~
JC’s expecting protests, for declarations concerning long held values about monogamy and love. He didn’t expect Justin’s eyes to light up, for him to hug JC close and whisper are you kidding? Yes in his ear.
It seems JC has underestimated Justin’s ability to love. Which is good; because three in a bed is always fun, especially when they both love Chris as they do.
~*~*~*~
What?! It makes me happy! ;)
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-09-06 12:12 am (UTC)And I'm seconding all of
AND... If you manage to get to this...
Five Times That Chris Found Himself in a Closet without the Necessary Equipment
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Date: 2006-09-18 03:51 pm (UTC)Anyway. Here you go!
Five Times That Chris Found Himself in a Closet without the Necessary Equipment
“Why are we in here again?”
The words are hissed into Chris’ ear. He turns his head slightly and Lance’s eyes are right there, huge and glowing. It’s kind of creepy, two hovering orbs in the dim light and Chris has to suppress the urge to poke at them. That won’t help anything.
“We’re here because we’re going to prank JC,” Chris explains slowly, like Lance is some kind of idiot. Which he obviously is, because he knows why they’re here.
“And yet we've nothing to prank JC with.”
“Details.” Chris shrugs, and the wire hangers against his head jingle. He freezes, barely breathing, but there’s no reaction from outside and finally he can exhale.
“This is the last time I’m helping you with anything.”
Lance’s eyes narrow, and Chris can feel the glare down to his bones. He’s also pushed into a corner and there’s a hook digging into his back, and really, Lance hasn’t cause to be all huffy like this. It’s not Chris’ fault JC came back early.
“What’s he doing?” Thankfully Lance loses the glare, his head tilting to one side as he listens. “No. Please no.”
It doesn’t take long to identify the noise. The creak of the bed, a zipper being pulled, the slick sound of skin against skin. Chris bites down on his hand, caught between laughter and arousal as he listens to JC moan.
“I hate you.”
Chris doesn’t take the insult to heart, how can he when Lance is listening so intently, ear almost against the closet door while stroking his fingers over the crotch of his pants. The movements tiny, pale blurs in the darkness. Chris can’t look away.
“JC.”
The new voice is unexpected. Surprised, Chris falls back, and the hook digs deeper.
“I really hate you.”
Lance’s fingers have stopped moving, and the glare is back, full force and deadly. Chris can only glare back. How was he supposed to know JC had company, especially company like that!
~*~*~*~
“Just shut up!” JC’s fingers are wrapped around Chris’ wrist. He’s holding tight, mouth set in a thin line, and keeps going even when Chris stumbles after catching his toe in the thick plush of Justin’s carpet. “And don’t even think about saying sorry.”
That’s fine by Chris; he wasn’t going to say sorry anyway.
“You can’t do that. I mean. In front of everyone.” JC’s fingernails are sharp, stinging as he abruptly stops and yanks open a door. “Get in there.”
Chris walks inside. He doesn’t mention this is one of Justin’s store cupboards, and bites back a smile when JC realises, looking around with a snarl.
“Why does Justin own five mops? No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.” JC drops Chris’ wrist , switching his grip so his hands are against Chris’ shoulders, then pushes, trapping Chris between his body and the wall. “This is what you wanted, yes?”
Chris says nothing, just waits as JC unbuckles his belt, unfastens his pants so they slither to the floor.
JC licks along the curve of ear, nips at the lobe, mouth hot against Chris’ neck. “You’ve got stuff. I mean, you staged this.”
Chris hesitates, sighs deeply at the feel of JC nipping at his collarbone. Then reluctantly pushes him away. “Back soon.” He ignores JC’s laughter, because the sad fact is, Chris may have wrenched back JC’s attention, but this plan has fatal flaws.
He runs.
~*~*~*~
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From:no subject
Date: 2006-09-06 01:49 am (UTC)Five places Justin wishes he could have taken JC if they were not famous.
Five people JC wishes he hadn't slept with.
Five Reasons why Martha from Doctor Who would be an Nsync fan.
Five Instances when JC and Chris could have made something explode.
Five things that would have to happen for JC and Justin to turn into Muppets.
Five Times that JC though his friends were the horsemen of the apocylpse.
And, you know, if you want to *hint hint*
Five things that the characters of Living the life that you dreamed are doing now.
no subject
Date: 2006-09-06 04:36 pm (UTC)Five Times that JC though his friends were the horsemen of the apocylpse.
*laughs hysterically* I can't wait to see what she makes of these :-)
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-09-07 05:50 pm (UTC)5 secrets Joey has always kept
5 movie quotes JC, Joey, Lance and Chris hope they never, ever hear Justin say again
no subject
Date: 2006-09-08 11:48 pm (UTC)What grade is Corey in now?
no subject
Date: 2006-09-12 08:41 am (UTC)Enjoy (http://eu.nifty.org/nifty/gay/celebrity/boy-bands/nsync-meet-a-redneck/)
Corey's 10 and in his last year of junior school. I'm not sure what grade that would transfer to.
(no subject)
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