(no subject)
Sep. 7th, 2006 06:18 pmI was doing these in order, but well, I missed my boys.
Will probably make no sense if you haven't read Boxes
ephemera_pop wanted
There’s a spring digging into Chris’ leg. When he moves to get comfortable the couch creaks alarmingly, protesting until he’s finally still. JC is curled to one side, his head against Chris’ shoulder. He looks asleep, but his fingers twitch against Chris’ knee, tiny movements as he listens to Joey and Lance talk. Justin is on Chris’ other side, his feet tucked under him, fluffy pink socks -- pink through a washing accident not choice – peeping from under the ragged edges of his jeans. One hand is close to Chris’ thigh, so close to touching, like Justin needs the reassurance he can reach out and Chris will really be there.
“So, where did you go?” Lance is in the kitchen, spooning instant coffee into mugs. Chris can see him shake the spoon, carefully dropping the excess powder into the jar. Half a spoon each, and it lasts longer that way. Lance adds water, and steam billows upwards in the cold of the room.
“Yeah, you’ve been gone months; you must have travelled a fair distance.”
Joey’s words are smile surrounded, but there’s something hidden, faint bitterness at being left behind. JC’s fingers tighten against Chris’ knee in an unspoken signal, tonight isn’t the time.
“We headed for the coast. We wanted to see the ocean.” JC is uncurling from Chris’ side. The couch lists slightly as he stretches, threadbare t-shirt riding up to expose prominent ribs. “It was beautiful there.” He turns to Chris, eyes alight as he smiles. “Can you remember the first night? We’d been walking for days, and my shoe had fallen to bits, so we’d tied it together with string. I thought we’d never get there, and no one would stop. Then there it was.”
JC is grinning now, and Chris can easily remember that time. That moment when they turned the corner and finally, there was the ocean. Perfect blue and stretching for miles. “You went running forward and left me to carry your bag.”
“I came back didn’t I?”
JC is laughing, and Chris is remembering the headlong flight toward the ocean. The way JC’s shoe slapped against the sidewalk, the string trailing behind. They’d fallen onto the warm sand, laughing as they threw it into the air. JC’s mouth had been rough when Chris kissed him, sand crystals clinging to his lips.
“It sounds nice there,” Lance says. He’s holding two mugs, and hands them over to Joey and JC. Hurrying back to the kitchen, he gets three more, handing them out before settling down on the floor, resting against the arm of Joey’s chair.
“It was, the money was okay too. We got enough for a burger each.” Chris cradles his mug in his hands, lost in the memories of another time.
“Not like the next town. I hated that place.” JC’s scowling down into his mug. It’s not often he hates anything, and even Justin looks up from his pink toes. “I got busted for drawing and told to move on, then they wouldn’t let us in the café. We had money and everything.” Knuckles white around his mug, JC takes a long drink, gulping down his coffee. “They said they didn’t serve our kind. That smelly layabouts weren’t allowed inside, and it’s not like we smelled that bad, we’d just swam in the sea.”
Lance leans forward, mouth a thin line. “They didn’t have a right to say that. You should have demanded to be let inside.”
“It wasn’t worth it.” Chris takes another sip of coffee as Lance stares at him.
“Of course it’s worth it. You had money; you had the right to be inside.”
“Technically, maybe.” Chris shrugs, shifting so JC can move closer. “We found something later, it wasn’t worth causing trouble.”
“How can you say that? How can you let yourself be treated like that?” Justin demands, and coffee slops over his mug, a wet stain spreading over his jeans as he uncurls his legs and sits forward.
“It’s not worth the risk. I’d rather be hungry than hurt, or get JC hurt” Chris is looking at Justin, but it’s obvious he doesn’t get it. How can he? He wasn’t around enough to understand.
“You wouldn’t get hurt for going in a café.” Uncertain words, and Justin is waiting for someone to agree.
“See this?” JC pulls up the arm of his t-shirt, tracing the scar that runs across his shoulder. “I had money that time, tried to push my way into a café. The owner threw a bottle at me then locked the door. It doesn’t happen often, but there’s always a chance.”
Horrified, Justin looks from Chris to Joey. “You too?” They nod and he sinks back, folding up small. “You tell me this, and you still won’t come home. I don’t understand.”
They’re going in circles and Chris feels like banging his head against a wall.
“Where else did you go?” Lance asks, a welcome distraction as he crawls across the floor to sit near Justin.
“We got a lift in a pig wagon once,” JC says, amused at Lance’s expression of surprise. “We sat in the back with the pig. He was called Fred.”
“To JC he was anyway.” Chris remembers that long journey, curled on a feed sack to pad the feel of wooden boards against his ass and spine. He especially remembers JC talking to the pig, scratching at piggy ears until they finally arrived.
“He looked like a Fred,” JC says, ignoring the resulting amusement with long practice. “That’s when we went to that sweet fair. It was in the apple tree town. We were sick of apples by the end of the week.” JC turns his head, his hair tickling across Chris’ cheek. “I had my own spot, and Chris sung too. We made enough to get some new clothes, and those.” JC sticks out his foot, using his toes to point at the floor.
“Good choice.” Joey grins, approving the pink flip flops. “Did you find a box to sleep in?”
“Not that time, we slept in a barn, in the hay bails.” That memory makes Chris itch at his back, laughing when JC scratches at his leg.
“I had spots on my back for ages, and my ass. That hay’s damn itchy and gets everywhere, I even found….”
“So, anywhere else?” Joey cuts in before JC can get too carried away.
Chris sorts through his memories, picking out ones to share. “We kept walking along the coast, one day we’d gone miles, no traffic, nothing but sand and the abandoned road. JC wanted to draw the sunset, and we had an apple each and a bottle of water, so we stayed.”
“It was beautiful.” JC presses closer, mouth against Chris’ cheek. “Almost as beautiful as you.”
“And?” Joey coughs, breaking the moment. “Did you get your picture?”
“Yeah.” JC stands, making the couch rock as he looks for his bag. He sits cross-legged when he finds it, searching through the scraps of paper inside. Leafing through pictures of Chris, of dolphins, a dog holding a ball. Eventually he finds the one he wants, handing it over to Joey to see. It shows a sunset, burning reds and yellows against a deep blue sea.
“It’s stunning.” Joey holds the picture in the air, examining every colour as JC beams.
“Keep it. It’ll look great on the wall.”
Joey immediately stands, holding the picture carefully as he rummages one handed in a drawer. Finding the tape, he sticks the picture to the wall, a burst of colour against the drab wall.
Will probably make no sense if you haven't read Boxes
There’s a spring digging into Chris’ leg. When he moves to get comfortable the couch creaks alarmingly, protesting until he’s finally still. JC is curled to one side, his head against Chris’ shoulder. He looks asleep, but his fingers twitch against Chris’ knee, tiny movements as he listens to Joey and Lance talk. Justin is on Chris’ other side, his feet tucked under him, fluffy pink socks -- pink through a washing accident not choice – peeping from under the ragged edges of his jeans. One hand is close to Chris’ thigh, so close to touching, like Justin needs the reassurance he can reach out and Chris will really be there.
“So, where did you go?” Lance is in the kitchen, spooning instant coffee into mugs. Chris can see him shake the spoon, carefully dropping the excess powder into the jar. Half a spoon each, and it lasts longer that way. Lance adds water, and steam billows upwards in the cold of the room.
“Yeah, you’ve been gone months; you must have travelled a fair distance.”
Joey’s words are smile surrounded, but there’s something hidden, faint bitterness at being left behind. JC’s fingers tighten against Chris’ knee in an unspoken signal, tonight isn’t the time.
“We headed for the coast. We wanted to see the ocean.” JC is uncurling from Chris’ side. The couch lists slightly as he stretches, threadbare t-shirt riding up to expose prominent ribs. “It was beautiful there.” He turns to Chris, eyes alight as he smiles. “Can you remember the first night? We’d been walking for days, and my shoe had fallen to bits, so we’d tied it together with string. I thought we’d never get there, and no one would stop. Then there it was.”
JC is grinning now, and Chris can easily remember that time. That moment when they turned the corner and finally, there was the ocean. Perfect blue and stretching for miles. “You went running forward and left me to carry your bag.”
“I came back didn’t I?”
JC is laughing, and Chris is remembering the headlong flight toward the ocean. The way JC’s shoe slapped against the sidewalk, the string trailing behind. They’d fallen onto the warm sand, laughing as they threw it into the air. JC’s mouth had been rough when Chris kissed him, sand crystals clinging to his lips.
“It sounds nice there,” Lance says. He’s holding two mugs, and hands them over to Joey and JC. Hurrying back to the kitchen, he gets three more, handing them out before settling down on the floor, resting against the arm of Joey’s chair.
“It was, the money was okay too. We got enough for a burger each.” Chris cradles his mug in his hands, lost in the memories of another time.
“Not like the next town. I hated that place.” JC’s scowling down into his mug. It’s not often he hates anything, and even Justin looks up from his pink toes. “I got busted for drawing and told to move on, then they wouldn’t let us in the café. We had money and everything.” Knuckles white around his mug, JC takes a long drink, gulping down his coffee. “They said they didn’t serve our kind. That smelly layabouts weren’t allowed inside, and it’s not like we smelled that bad, we’d just swam in the sea.”
Lance leans forward, mouth a thin line. “They didn’t have a right to say that. You should have demanded to be let inside.”
“It wasn’t worth it.” Chris takes another sip of coffee as Lance stares at him.
“Of course it’s worth it. You had money; you had the right to be inside.”
“Technically, maybe.” Chris shrugs, shifting so JC can move closer. “We found something later, it wasn’t worth causing trouble.”
“How can you say that? How can you let yourself be treated like that?” Justin demands, and coffee slops over his mug, a wet stain spreading over his jeans as he uncurls his legs and sits forward.
“It’s not worth the risk. I’d rather be hungry than hurt, or get JC hurt” Chris is looking at Justin, but it’s obvious he doesn’t get it. How can he? He wasn’t around enough to understand.
“You wouldn’t get hurt for going in a café.” Uncertain words, and Justin is waiting for someone to agree.
“See this?” JC pulls up the arm of his t-shirt, tracing the scar that runs across his shoulder. “I had money that time, tried to push my way into a café. The owner threw a bottle at me then locked the door. It doesn’t happen often, but there’s always a chance.”
Horrified, Justin looks from Chris to Joey. “You too?” They nod and he sinks back, folding up small. “You tell me this, and you still won’t come home. I don’t understand.”
They’re going in circles and Chris feels like banging his head against a wall.
“Where else did you go?” Lance asks, a welcome distraction as he crawls across the floor to sit near Justin.
“We got a lift in a pig wagon once,” JC says, amused at Lance’s expression of surprise. “We sat in the back with the pig. He was called Fred.”
“To JC he was anyway.” Chris remembers that long journey, curled on a feed sack to pad the feel of wooden boards against his ass and spine. He especially remembers JC talking to the pig, scratching at piggy ears until they finally arrived.
“He looked like a Fred,” JC says, ignoring the resulting amusement with long practice. “That’s when we went to that sweet fair. It was in the apple tree town. We were sick of apples by the end of the week.” JC turns his head, his hair tickling across Chris’ cheek. “I had my own spot, and Chris sung too. We made enough to get some new clothes, and those.” JC sticks out his foot, using his toes to point at the floor.
“Good choice.” Joey grins, approving the pink flip flops. “Did you find a box to sleep in?”
“Not that time, we slept in a barn, in the hay bails.” That memory makes Chris itch at his back, laughing when JC scratches at his leg.
“I had spots on my back for ages, and my ass. That hay’s damn itchy and gets everywhere, I even found….”
“So, anywhere else?” Joey cuts in before JC can get too carried away.
Chris sorts through his memories, picking out ones to share. “We kept walking along the coast, one day we’d gone miles, no traffic, nothing but sand and the abandoned road. JC wanted to draw the sunset, and we had an apple each and a bottle of water, so we stayed.”
“It was beautiful.” JC presses closer, mouth against Chris’ cheek. “Almost as beautiful as you.”
“And?” Joey coughs, breaking the moment. “Did you get your picture?”
“Yeah.” JC stands, making the couch rock as he looks for his bag. He sits cross-legged when he finds it, searching through the scraps of paper inside. Leafing through pictures of Chris, of dolphins, a dog holding a ball. Eventually he finds the one he wants, handing it over to Joey to see. It shows a sunset, burning reds and yellows against a deep blue sea.
“It’s stunning.” Joey holds the picture in the air, examining every colour as JC beams.
“Keep it. It’ll look great on the wall.”
Joey immediately stands, holding the picture carefully as he rummages one handed in a drawer. Finding the tape, he sticks the picture to the wall, a burst of colour against the drab wall.
no subject
Date: 2006-09-07 05:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-07 05:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-07 06:09 pm (UTC)Oh Terri. Oh oh oh oh. I adore this. I adore you. This was just perfect for my mood today. *happysigh*
no subject
Date: 2006-09-07 06:31 pm (UTC)Thank you for sharing.
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Date: 2006-09-07 08:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-08 12:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-08 01:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-08 03:39 am (UTC)Boxes.
So beautiful.
Thanks for sharing this with us, Terri.
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Date: 2006-09-08 09:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-10 11:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-12 08:29 am (UTC)Thank you *smooch*
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Date: 2006-09-12 01:15 pm (UTC)I'm glad you enjoyed.
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Date: 2006-09-12 01:17 pm (UTC)I'm having fun with these five things. They don't take that much effort and really, it's nice to just write without worrying about a big piece.
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Date: 2006-09-18 01:44 pm (UTC)Thank you :)