(no subject)
Sep. 6th, 2006 03:54 pmSpending hours waiting for someone and they don't turn up is annoying, especially when it's not your house.
Before I forget, thank you so much to the person who gifted me with the four leaf clover. It was a lovely surprise. *sends out smooch to anon person* The clover helped make up for the fact my paid time had ran out and I only had five icons for a while. 5. The horror!
Talking of five. You people are evil! I now have a lovely long list of 5 things to compile for the 5 things meme. A cool mixture too, including Sentinel, Mutant X and Supernatural, the first time I'll have written a word in that fandom. So it'll be interesting to see how that goes.
It also means I'll have something to post for the next few days ;) So, have the first five.
trumpeterofdoom wanted
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.
simply_fly_away wanted.
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
Five things Chris can never tell Lance
Chris' fridge is always full, stocked to bursting with food. He makes sandwiches with fresh bread and thick slices of meat, spread with mayonnaise that squishes out the sides when he bites. Eats deserts made with cream and chocolate, drinks smoothies blended fresh each day.
It's far too much, but Chris will never tell Lance why he buys it all, he doesn't have to. Lance already knows.
~*~*~*~
Chris asked Lance if he were gay. It seemed the right time to end the years of knowing but not saying. There was no big scene, no outpouring of emotions. Just a direct question and a yes.
Nothing had changed. Lance was still Chris' friend, still a dork. But now he was a gay dork. An out, happy, gay dork.
Chris can't help the jealousy. His inability to say, Hey, me too.
~*~*~*~
It was only once. A quick fumble in a locked hotel room, two lonely people taking comfort in the most basic of ways.
They never mentioned it again, even if Chris remembers every detail of the soft feel of Diane's inner thighs.
~*~*~*~
The sun is tinting the sky pink when Chris wakes. Tired still, he rubs at his eyes, squinting at the clock on his bedside table. Relieved when he realises he doesn't have to get up for hours. Squirming, Chris gets comfortable, fitting his belly against a curve of back. Lance sighs in his sleep at the contact, and he settles his hand over Chris', holding him close.
Chin pressed in the hollow of Lance's shoulder and neck, Chris breathes deep, eyes heavy as he slips back into sleep.
"I love you." He mouths the words against Lance's skin, admitting truths unspeakable in the bright light of day.
~*~*~*~
"I won't be shocked," Lance says, and he leans back on the bed, displaying his nakedness in an obvious invitation.
Fixing his gaze on Lance's knee, Chris manages to ignore the annoying smirk. He hasn't seen it but knows it's there. He can feel it. The air itself changing with the baring of those sharp teeth.
"Because I'm up to experimenting." Lance suddenly covers his knee with his hand, fingers splayed open. "My nails are short and we have that industrial sized lube if you want to try fisting. Is that it?"
Chris shakes his head, but files the information away for later.
"A bit of spanking then, or tying up. I have ropes."
"You have ropes?" Chris looks up at Lance, and yes, the smirk is there. An all too pleased grin as Lance checks out Chris' reaction to the ropes.
"I have varied tastes." Lance leans forward so they're face to face. "As do you it seems. Is it infancitilism? Because I'm sure there's some of Bri's old diapers here somewhere. They could stretch."
"Hell no!" It takes a moment but Lance's serious expression cracks, and he's laughing, tears glinting in his eyes as he falls back. After an appropriate amount of indignation Chris has to join in, and soon they're a laughing mess, piled together in the centre of the bed.
"No, seriously. What do you want?" Lance wipes his face, and props himself up on one elbow so he can look down at Chris.
"I want...." Chris hesitates. This shouldn't be so difficult, but he's never tried it before and it's embarrassing and this sucks. "I'll show you." It seems the perfect answer, and he's hanging over the side of their bed, pulling an open book from underneath, delighted when Lance looks at the page and grins.
luxshine wanted
"Chris. We're having a get together this weekend. Just the family and a few friends. Beer, good food. There's a burger with your name on."
"I guess you were busy last weekend, it's okay. I know how it is. We missed you though, it's been a while. Give me a call sometime. Fill me in."
"I know you've got my number, Kirkpatrick. Use it."
"I know you're getting these messages. Call me."
"You're pissing me off now."
"The hermit act is getting old. You know how to use a phone."
"I shouldn't have slammed the phone down like that. It's just. I'm worried. Call me. Please."
"I talked to your mom today. I'll be over in a few hours. We need to talk. There's things you need to hear."
~*~*~*~
"You ask him." Joey grips his cell tight. The edges jam into his fingers, a dull sting, but he ignores that as he looks at Kelly. She's lying next to him, sheet pushed low, bunched over the smooth skin of her stomach.
"He's your friend." Kelly says, laughing, her eyes crinkled as she pets Joey reassuringly, stroking her hand down his leg.
"Exactly. He's my friend." That seems an important point to Joey, but Kelly dismisses it with a shrug of her shoulders.
"So?"
"So, friends don't sleep together."
Kelly makes a most unladylike snort, and her hand stills.. "You want him, I want him. Phone him."
She's right, and Joey starts to punch in the number, then stops, finger over the call button. "What if he says no?" Which really, was the problem all along.
Kelly moves, presses a kiss against Joey's side, her hand a reassuring pressure. "There's only one way to find out."
Joey pushes the last button, heart hammering. "Hi, Chris."
~*~*~*~
Soggy paper bags filled with warm pastries. A hand on Chris' back, tickets to a show, sitting watching the fireworks in the cold. Hands dirty as he pushes Chris' car yet again. They all mean, I love you.
One day Joey will say the actual words.
~*~*~*~
It's gone on too long. Joey has a family now, a baby, a little girl. He has responsibilities, but it's not only that, he loves Kelly. Problem is he loves Chris too.
Saying it's over is heartbreaking, but Joey does it anyway. Sometimes loving someone means walking away.
~*~*~*~
Joey hated Brad on sight.. Blonde and blue-eyed, tanned and funny as hell. There was no reason for the hate, Brad was a great boyfriend, and Chris was happy. Still, Joey seethed when he saw them laugh together, when he saw them pressed close in the cover of night.
Because as perfect as Brad was, all he did was remind Joey what he could have had. If only he'd told Chris the truth all those months ago.
ETA: Line up here if you need bleach for one of the replies.
Before I forget, thank you so much to the person who gifted me with the four leaf clover. It was a lovely surprise. *sends out smooch to anon person* The clover helped make up for the fact my paid time had ran out and I only had five icons for a while. 5. The horror!
Talking of five. You people are evil! I now have a lovely long list of 5 things to compile for the 5 things meme. A cool mixture too, including Sentinel, Mutant X and Supernatural, the first time I'll have written a word in that fandom. So it'll be interesting to see how that goes.
It also means I'll have something to post for the next few days ;) So, have the first five.
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.
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
Five things Chris can never tell Lance
Chris' fridge is always full, stocked to bursting with food. He makes sandwiches with fresh bread and thick slices of meat, spread with mayonnaise that squishes out the sides when he bites. Eats deserts made with cream and chocolate, drinks smoothies blended fresh each day.
It's far too much, but Chris will never tell Lance why he buys it all, he doesn't have to. Lance already knows.
~*~*~*~
Chris asked Lance if he were gay. It seemed the right time to end the years of knowing but not saying. There was no big scene, no outpouring of emotions. Just a direct question and a yes.
Nothing had changed. Lance was still Chris' friend, still a dork. But now he was a gay dork. An out, happy, gay dork.
Chris can't help the jealousy. His inability to say, Hey, me too.
~*~*~*~
It was only once. A quick fumble in a locked hotel room, two lonely people taking comfort in the most basic of ways.
They never mentioned it again, even if Chris remembers every detail of the soft feel of Diane's inner thighs.
~*~*~*~
The sun is tinting the sky pink when Chris wakes. Tired still, he rubs at his eyes, squinting at the clock on his bedside table. Relieved when he realises he doesn't have to get up for hours. Squirming, Chris gets comfortable, fitting his belly against a curve of back. Lance sighs in his sleep at the contact, and he settles his hand over Chris', holding him close.
Chin pressed in the hollow of Lance's shoulder and neck, Chris breathes deep, eyes heavy as he slips back into sleep.
"I love you." He mouths the words against Lance's skin, admitting truths unspeakable in the bright light of day.
~*~*~*~
"I won't be shocked," Lance says, and he leans back on the bed, displaying his nakedness in an obvious invitation.
Fixing his gaze on Lance's knee, Chris manages to ignore the annoying smirk. He hasn't seen it but knows it's there. He can feel it. The air itself changing with the baring of those sharp teeth.
"Because I'm up to experimenting." Lance suddenly covers his knee with his hand, fingers splayed open. "My nails are short and we have that industrial sized lube if you want to try fisting. Is that it?"
Chris shakes his head, but files the information away for later.
"A bit of spanking then, or tying up. I have ropes."
"You have ropes?" Chris looks up at Lance, and yes, the smirk is there. An all too pleased grin as Lance checks out Chris' reaction to the ropes.
"I have varied tastes." Lance leans forward so they're face to face. "As do you it seems. Is it infancitilism? Because I'm sure there's some of Bri's old diapers here somewhere. They could stretch."
"Hell no!" It takes a moment but Lance's serious expression cracks, and he's laughing, tears glinting in his eyes as he falls back. After an appropriate amount of indignation Chris has to join in, and soon they're a laughing mess, piled together in the centre of the bed.
"No, seriously. What do you want?" Lance wipes his face, and props himself up on one elbow so he can look down at Chris.
"I want...." Chris hesitates. This shouldn't be so difficult, but he's never tried it before and it's embarrassing and this sucks. "I'll show you." It seems the perfect answer, and he's hanging over the side of their bed, pulling an open book from underneath, delighted when Lance looks at the page and grins.
"Chris. We're having a get together this weekend. Just the family and a few friends. Beer, good food. There's a burger with your name on."
"I guess you were busy last weekend, it's okay. I know how it is. We missed you though, it's been a while. Give me a call sometime. Fill me in."
"I know you've got my number, Kirkpatrick. Use it."
"I know you're getting these messages. Call me."
"You're pissing me off now."
"The hermit act is getting old. You know how to use a phone."
"I shouldn't have slammed the phone down like that. It's just. I'm worried. Call me. Please."
"I talked to your mom today. I'll be over in a few hours. We need to talk. There's things you need to hear."
~*~*~*~
"You ask him." Joey grips his cell tight. The edges jam into his fingers, a dull sting, but he ignores that as he looks at Kelly. She's lying next to him, sheet pushed low, bunched over the smooth skin of her stomach.
"He's your friend." Kelly says, laughing, her eyes crinkled as she pets Joey reassuringly, stroking her hand down his leg.
"Exactly. He's my friend." That seems an important point to Joey, but Kelly dismisses it with a shrug of her shoulders.
"So?"
"So, friends don't sleep together."
Kelly makes a most unladylike snort, and her hand stills.. "You want him, I want him. Phone him."
She's right, and Joey starts to punch in the number, then stops, finger over the call button. "What if he says no?" Which really, was the problem all along.
Kelly moves, presses a kiss against Joey's side, her hand a reassuring pressure. "There's only one way to find out."
Joey pushes the last button, heart hammering. "Hi, Chris."
~*~*~*~
Soggy paper bags filled with warm pastries. A hand on Chris' back, tickets to a show, sitting watching the fireworks in the cold. Hands dirty as he pushes Chris' car yet again. They all mean, I love you.
One day Joey will say the actual words.
~*~*~*~
It's gone on too long. Joey has a family now, a baby, a little girl. He has responsibilities, but it's not only that, he loves Kelly. Problem is he loves Chris too.
Saying it's over is heartbreaking, but Joey does it anyway. Sometimes loving someone means walking away.
~*~*~*~
Joey hated Brad on sight.. Blonde and blue-eyed, tanned and funny as hell. There was no reason for the hate, Brad was a great boyfriend, and Chris was happy. Still, Joey seethed when he saw them laugh together, when he saw them pressed close in the cover of night.
Because as perfect as Brad was, all he did was remind Joey what he could have had. If only he'd told Chris the truth all those months ago.
ETA: Line up here if you need bleach for one of the replies.