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[turps]

Sometimes I'm just not smart. This afternoon I realised I hadn't downloaded CSI, so did so. Got the torrent downloaded and left it to do its thing while I went grocery shopping. Came back expecting to see a shiny new ep, and what do I see? The prompt telling me to pick a destination for the download. So nothing had downloaded at all. It is to cry.

But, we have food and coffee. A full fruit bowl again and enough satsumas that they're rolling all over the bench. Soon it's the Big Brother eviction then Ugly Betty. Not a bad evenings viewing at all.

I've been trying to write more on my trickyfish story today, and it's not happening. So I opened up the wtf file I'm in the middle of, and added maybe ten words. Onto the 1000 words challenge, and that went better, but still, I ended up stalled. So, oh flist. I'm revisiting a meme. In an attempt to knock my writing brain up to speed, does anyone want to request a ficlet?

Nothing long and the result may be ropey because it'll be unbeta'ed and it's my betas that make me look good. Still, if you still want to after that warning, hit me. Any fandom I know. Pairing plus situation or feel. I'll give it a bash.

Comments

[turps33.livejournal.com]

I'm glad it's not just me. I swear, I was so annoyed.

And dude, my flist are perverts! *g*

How did I know you'd want JuC? ;)

I tried my best, porn really isn't my best thing.

~*~*~*~

The audience is a swaying mass of bodies, and Justin controls them all, holding them in his hand and tightening his spell as he performs to an audience of one. Because Justin knows JC is there. It’s nothing he can explain, more an awareness, a shiver that concentrates along his spine.

Later, and he’s alone on his bus. Distant screams of adulation his background noise as he strips off his sodden shirt, letting it fall to the floor. Shoes next, and he toes them off, kicking them away so they land with a thud. Bare footed, he pads toward the back of the bus, looking out at the lines of security, the fans pressed against a chain link fence. They’re looking his way, mouths open and screaming their love.

The door hisses open. Justin doesn’t look around.

He keeps looking outside, his reflection overlain across the fans. There’s the sound of breathing, soft footsteps and Justin slowly undoes his belt. The buckle is warm against his fingers, and he carefully pulls, leather slithering through denim loops. Buttons next, and he takes his time with each one, teasing them through the material, hips moving slightly, a dance performed to the beat of the fans chanting his name.

A slight twist, a push of his hands and Justin stands in his boxer shorts, his pants pooled on the floor. He looks at his own reflection, sweat damp hair and defined muscles, his ink etched dark into his skin.

Justin reaches out a hand, presses his palm against the cool glass of the window. Breathes deep as he rests his other hand on his stomach, fingers splayed as he inches down, dragging his fingers, sliding them over his skin.

He watches his own reflection, matches sensation to vision, licks across his bottom lip. His heart speeds in anticipation, because Justin knows what he likes, his hands taking a route made automatic by time.

Lower and he’s palming himself through his boxers, teasing with a slight touch, slick fabric pulled the sensitive head of his dick. Greedy now and needing more, he grabs his boxers with both hands, leaving a perfect outline of his hand on the glass. A quick tug and he’s naked, clothes kicked aside and he’s staring into his own eyes, watching, feeling, as he runs his fingers along his dick, clenching his hand to that perfect pressure.

Dropping his gaze, Justin looks at his own fingers, the way his dick slips between them, slick and hard, and he increases his pace, matching his thrusts with his hand until he’s close, teetering on the edge.

He looks up and finally he sees JC. Reflected in the window and standing close, breathing deep as he meets Justin’s gaze, never looking away as Justin groans, wet heat sliding through his fingers as he thrusts one last time.

[rikes]

Oh, Terri! ♥ You wrote both!! And it was nothing like I expected, which is definitely a good thing. I think I'll go to bed and think about that for a while now because it's the perfect bedtime story, really. :) *mwah*

And dude, my flist are perverts! *g*
That's because you're a girl's perv's best friend. :D And you keep saying that about your porn, but I don't quite believe you.

[turps33.livejournal.com]

I'm so glad you liked it!

Thank you!