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Sep. 18th, 2006 05:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
turpsBefore I go on. Let me have another squee. OMG! Chris arms and Joey and just. YAY! I've had such a fun afternoon, made even better by comment conversations as I watched along. Chris! Okay, I'm done.
Corey went to his first rugby session yesterday. They've put him in the under 11 team even before he's touched a ball. It seems being big is a bonus playing rugby. He's excited about going, problem is, he needs a full kit before he can even train. Rugby boots, top, gum shield and shin pads. That bonus is shrinking all the time. But man, the amount of people who've told me how rough rugby is. I've had people tell me about having teeth knocked out, being knocked unconscious, bruises and fights. I have to keep telling myself this is a junior league and the coaches know what they're doing, but, teeth knocked out! Man.
We also went to the Glass Centre yesterday. It's been open for years but yesterday was the first time we've been. The actual displays aren't that extensive but the glass blowing was fascinating. There's walk ways over an actual glass factory, then you walk to a place where you can sit and watch glass being blown. It's such intricate work, and very time consuming. There was also a very pretty Joey type person doing the blowing, so that was cool.
We also went out for dinner in-between there and going to the hospital, and I tell you. I'll be upset if I don't lose weight this week. I've been walking up the stairs to level 'E' all week, surely that has to be worth something.
But yeah, things are good if a little busy. I've had to do a lot of skimming on here, and I hate doing that, but hopefully it won't be for long. The MiL is supposed to be out on Wed now. However I'm sensing a theme and won't be at all surprised if it doesn't happen.
Now, the meme that doesn't quit. For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
vaudevilles
“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 at all.
“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, 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.
~*~*~*~
Chris gets the call at 3am.
Ignored speed limits means he gets to Justin’s in twenty minutes, five minutes to get past the guard. Three to find the key he hasn’t used in years.
The house is quiet, and Chris immediately heads upstairs. The master bedroom door is open, showing the unmade bed, the clothes spread across the floor. Chris sighs and steps inside.
There’s no sign of Justin. Chris didn’t expect there to be.
“Justin. J. It’s me.”
He steps over a pair of sneakers, walks across the vast bedroom and opens the closet door. Justin calls it a closet, but it’s not at all. It’s huge, as big as Chris’ first apartment and then some. Usually it’s carefully arranged, clothes labelled by style and year. Boxes of sneakers in perfect rows. Now. Well now it’s chaos.
“Hey.” Justin’s sitting on the floor. He’s got a note book on his lap, a worn down pencil clenched in his hand. There should be a laptop, meticulous details added by Justin’s stylist, but that’s nowhere in sight. Probably smashed in pieces in the garden below.
Chris kicks at a pile of shirts, picks up the pencil hidden at the bottom. He sits, takes the notebook from Justin’ lap. “You read, I’ll list.”
Justin nods, and his hands shake a little as he picks up a shirt. He recites colour and make, and Chris writes it all down. Easily slipping into the habits of years before.
~*~*~*~
Chris tries to tell soon after they sign. Lou deliberately doesn’t understand as he talks about songs and practice, anything but what Chris wanted to say.
It’s an easy hint and Chris doesn’t mention it again. He needs this too badly. Maybe in the future he’ll have the pull to defy Lou, but not now.
Now he goes back into the closet and seals the door.
~*~*~*~
Chris was bought years before. He remembers his pride as he was carried off the shelf, held in eager hands then unpacked from his box. He giggled inside when he was assembled, blushed unseen to his plastic core when his jumpsuit was opened and his chest explored.
He was placed next to four others and they soon became friends. As close as friends could be. They shared their lives, their dreams. Justin still had nightmares about nearly slipping off the conveyer belt, and moonlight became their spotlight as they sung him to sleep. Lance had a crush on action man, and they’d tease him when he sent kisses his way. Joey loved to talk, and called all the other toys in the room his friend. JC would sway on his strings, smiling and singing, even when he turned pink due to the lipstick kisses pressed to his nose. While Chris, well, he loved them all.
They loved their shelf up high, then one day it all changed. Chris was taken from his stand. His legs collapsed under him, and he lay in a heap, heart racing and afraid. Soon the others were by his side, and he reached out, touching a plastic hand as they were scooped up and placed in a box and hidden away.
It’s not that bad living in the closet. It’s private and Chris always has his four dearest friends. Friends that provide love when their owners love dwindled away. If only it could be more. Chris knocks on his smooth groin, and regrets ever talking to that tattered copy of Cosmo. Some things are best not to know.
Corey went to his first rugby session yesterday. They've put him in the under 11 team even before he's touched a ball. It seems being big is a bonus playing rugby. He's excited about going, problem is, he needs a full kit before he can even train. Rugby boots, top, gum shield and shin pads. That bonus is shrinking all the time. But man, the amount of people who've told me how rough rugby is. I've had people tell me about having teeth knocked out, being knocked unconscious, bruises and fights. I have to keep telling myself this is a junior league and the coaches know what they're doing, but, teeth knocked out! Man.
We also went to the Glass Centre yesterday. It's been open for years but yesterday was the first time we've been. The actual displays aren't that extensive but the glass blowing was fascinating. There's walk ways over an actual glass factory, then you walk to a place where you can sit and watch glass being blown. It's such intricate work, and very time consuming. There was also a very pretty Joey type person doing the blowing, so that was cool.
We also went out for dinner in-between there and going to the hospital, and I tell you. I'll be upset if I don't lose weight this week. I've been walking up the stairs to level 'E' all week, surely that has to be worth something.
But yeah, things are good if a little busy. I've had to do a lot of skimming on here, and I hate doing that, but hopefully it won't be for long. The MiL is supposed to be out on Wed now. However I'm sensing a theme and won't be at all surprised if it doesn't happen.
Now, the meme that doesn't quit. For
vaudevilles“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 at all.
“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, 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.
~*~*~*~
Chris gets the call at 3am.
Ignored speed limits means he gets to Justin’s in twenty minutes, five minutes to get past the guard. Three to find the key he hasn’t used in years.
The house is quiet, and Chris immediately heads upstairs. The master bedroom door is open, showing the unmade bed, the clothes spread across the floor. Chris sighs and steps inside.
There’s no sign of Justin. Chris didn’t expect there to be.
“Justin. J. It’s me.”
He steps over a pair of sneakers, walks across the vast bedroom and opens the closet door. Justin calls it a closet, but it’s not at all. It’s huge, as big as Chris’ first apartment and then some. Usually it’s carefully arranged, clothes labelled by style and year. Boxes of sneakers in perfect rows. Now. Well now it’s chaos.
“Hey.” Justin’s sitting on the floor. He’s got a note book on his lap, a worn down pencil clenched in his hand. There should be a laptop, meticulous details added by Justin’s stylist, but that’s nowhere in sight. Probably smashed in pieces in the garden below.
Chris kicks at a pile of shirts, picks up the pencil hidden at the bottom. He sits, takes the notebook from Justin’ lap. “You read, I’ll list.”
Justin nods, and his hands shake a little as he picks up a shirt. He recites colour and make, and Chris writes it all down. Easily slipping into the habits of years before.
~*~*~*~
Chris tries to tell soon after they sign. Lou deliberately doesn’t understand as he talks about songs and practice, anything but what Chris wanted to say.
It’s an easy hint and Chris doesn’t mention it again. He needs this too badly. Maybe in the future he’ll have the pull to defy Lou, but not now.
Now he goes back into the closet and seals the door.
~*~*~*~
Chris was bought years before. He remembers his pride as he was carried off the shelf, held in eager hands then unpacked from his box. He giggled inside when he was assembled, blushed unseen to his plastic core when his jumpsuit was opened and his chest explored.
He was placed next to four others and they soon became friends. As close as friends could be. They shared their lives, their dreams. Justin still had nightmares about nearly slipping off the conveyer belt, and moonlight became their spotlight as they sung him to sleep. Lance had a crush on action man, and they’d tease him when he sent kisses his way. Joey loved to talk, and called all the other toys in the room his friend. JC would sway on his strings, smiling and singing, even when he turned pink due to the lipstick kisses pressed to his nose. While Chris, well, he loved them all.
They loved their shelf up high, then one day it all changed. Chris was taken from his stand. His legs collapsed under him, and he lay in a heap, heart racing and afraid. Soon the others were by his side, and he reached out, touching a plastic hand as they were scooped up and placed in a box and hidden away.
It’s not that bad living in the closet. It’s private and Chris always has his four dearest friends. Friends that provide love when their owners love dwindled away. If only it could be more. Chris knocks on his smooth groin, and regrets ever talking to that tattered copy of Cosmo. Some things are best not to know.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-09-19 08:33 am (UTC)Hmmm, well personally I think JC should be with Chris, but as he isn't. It can be Nick *g*
Glass art really is beautiful. I imagine the items you have are beautiful too.
Btw. Thank you so much for the pics this morning. I tried to reply at myspace but it kept giving me error messages :(
They were perfect and really did make me smile.
no subject
Date: 2006-09-19 12:47 pm (UTC)Double yay for implied JC/Nick. *giggles*
I'm so glad that you liked the pictures this morning. I hoped they would make you smile and I'm happy that they did. Isn't staring at some pretty TrickC the way to start a morning?
no subject
Date: 2006-09-20 09:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-20 01:32 pm (UTC)