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Oct. 17th, 2007 06:39 pmIt's Chris' birthday today! So happy birthday to the most gorgeous man in the world. He may not be the man who pulled me into this fandom, but he's surely the one that kept me here.
phaballa says we should celebrate with Chris drabbles, and I agree with this. Except not drabbles as I can't be hassled with counting words. So give me a prompt and I'll see what I can do. See if I can write short.
It helps I'm in a writing mood right now. I've been working on my
autumnchallenge fic, which isn't the video I actually signed up for...sigh. However, another 3000 words of cheerleaders has to be a win.#
ETA: I forgot to mention. Go check out
phaballa's post to read some very excellent Chris bits.
Also, I have a ghost on my user page! Thank you! *smooch*
It helps I'm in a writing mood right now. I've been working on my
ETA: I forgot to mention. Go check out
Also, I have a ghost on my user page! Thank you! *smooch*
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Date: 2007-10-17 06:03 pm (UTC)so here's a prompt for you -- squash
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Date: 2007-10-17 06:48 pm (UTC)A sappy Chris short even.
Chris isn’t about to admit he’s homesick, but the brutal fact remains; he is.
He misses buying beer and candy from the local seven-eleven, waving hello to Mrs Henderson who always sits at the window of apartment 202, but most of all, he misses his mom and sisters. Talking to them over a phoneline that doesn’t hiss and crackle, reminding of how many miles he is away from home.
He misses all that and a thousand things more; but he won’t admit it. He’s a grown man. He’s following the path to sucess, and if that means hiding in the bathroom, teeth biting into his bottom lip as he clutches pictures from home, well that’s exactly what he’ll do.
Except when he puts away the pictures, running his finger over each one in a silent I love you, I miss you, he finds he’s not alone at all.
They’re all piled on his bed. Joey flicking through the channels on the tv, Lance reading, his feet resting on JC’s lap, Justin tapping out a beat against the blue comforter that’s trailing on the floor.
Familiar things and good friends who shift and move until he’s squashed in the middle of them all, surrounded and loved, knowing for this moment, he’s home.
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Date: 2007-10-17 06:57 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2007-10-17 07:38 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2007-10-18 05:35 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2007-10-17 06:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-17 07:26 pm (UTC)If people ask, and most people don’t, because really, society norms suggest that asking, hey, how did you end up sleeping with two of your bandmates? isn’t a polite thing at all. Except for AJ of course, but he’d always been a nosy fucker. Well, the point is, Chris would tell them it was due to a dare.
The thing is, Chris and dares are an explosive combination, and Justin knew that. Took advantage of that even.
So, it was a dare. A, how many cups of coffee can you drink before puking? kind of dare. Stupid yes, but the life of a touring boyband superstar is sometimes a boring one, and it’s not like Chris set fire to his own hair. Not that time anyway.
Twelve cups and he’d been jittering in place, twitching more than usual even, which meant, a lot. A huge lot. Like, air quoted ten times a lot. Caffeine had diluted his blood, and it had been impossible to stay still. Which was a problem when he was confined to an admittedly, luxurious touring bus.
Fourteen cups and he was bouncing from the couches while wiggling his ass at the passing lorries, secure in the knowledge they couldn’t see him through the mirrored glass.
Sixteen and he was running in circles, energy spiking, and even Justin was beginning to look concerned. Not that he stopped laughing, the insensitive bastard. So, Chris had been hopped on caffeine and JC had been bitching how it was nearly midnight and he needed sleep sometime tonight and would Chris stay still already!
Which was kind of impossible, until JC grabbed him, fisted his shirt between his fingers, and pushed Chris to the floor. Which is when things began to blur. There was clothes stripping and promises of expanding energy and then Chris was flat on his back, Justin licking a trail down his inner thigh while JC held Chris down, one hand against his stomach, holding on as he nipped and kissed, combining their efforts in a most delicious way.
Which is how it happened, which Chris will tell you if you ask. Maybe. Unless you’re AJ McLean. If so, it’s none of your business you nosy fucker.
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Date: 2007-10-17 07:40 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2007-10-17 06:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-17 08:02 pm (UTC)“You do realise it’s raining out there.”
Pointedly not looking around, Kevin narrowed his eyes, holding the bottle closer as he tried to decipher the unfamiliar words. Except ignoring Chris was like trying to ignore a small hurricane, it just wasn’t possible, especially when said hurricane was so close, oblivious to the concept of personal space.
“Because I’m just saying, sunbathing in the rain isn’t the best idea. Then again, who knows what you crazy people get up to in Kentucky. Mass producing fried chicken, hugging trees, sleeping with your cousins.”
“I don’t sleep with Brian,” Kevin hissed, fingers tightening as he imagined the bottle was Chris’ neck.
“I never said you did, you just assumed I meant Brian, which is interesting.”
Kevin didn’t need to look to know Chris was grinning, he could feel it, an outpouring of amusement that made the hairs on Kevin’s neck stand on end. Not that he’d say anything, the last thing Chris needed was encouragement.
“What’re you looking for? Because I don’t think it’s sun lotion.”
Expecting a joke, Kevin thrust the bottle back on the shelf, surprised when he looked down and saw Chris wasn’t smiling at all. Instead he looked understanding, mouth quirked as he waited for Kevin to decide.
“Hand lotion,” Kevin finally admitted, holding up his hands. “They’re dry.”
“Sure they are.” Eyes sparkling, Chris ran his fingers over Kevin’s palms, caressing with a gentle touch. “Here, try this.”
Taking the offered bottle, Kevin clutched it to his chest, feeling off kilter as Chris finally stepped away.
“I’m in room 302, call me if you want company. I can rub that in.” He winked then, braces glinting as he smiled and twisted away. Leaving Kevin to unfamiliar money, and a decision he wasn’t sure he was ready to make.
Then again. His hands really were dry.
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Date: 2007-10-17 06:29 pm (UTC)Prompt: splash.
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Date: 2007-10-17 08:31 pm (UTC)Chris wants to go home.
Branches scratch against his shoulders and back, and vines tangle around his feet. They feel like grasping hands, clinging to him, threatening to drag him to the damp ground. He shivers at each sickening squelch of his feet, and he hates the way his hands cramp, rough material clenched tight between his scuffed fingers.
“I’m sorry. So sorry.”
It’s all Justin’s says, offering apologies, his voice little more than a whisper now. Chris doesn’t even know who he’s apologising to. It could be him, or it could be the body of the girl, rolled in a rug, her eyes frozen wide in fear.
He should have said no when Justin phoned. Cut through the hysterical explanations and helpless pleas, but Chris has never been able to refuse Justin anything, even this, something that makes him see Justin through new eyes. Stripping away the gloss, and leaving the dark edges behind.
They walk for almost an hour, and Chris is cold, shivering as they drop the rug, watching in silence as water splashes, and the wrapped body is slowly sucked into the ground.
Justin kisses him then. His eyes are dark and his mouth is warm. His hands sure as he caresses over Chris’ sides, along his spine, a trailing touch that leaves goose-bumps, and the sickening knowledge that Chris would do anything for this. Anything.
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Date: 2007-10-17 06:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-17 09:34 pm (UTC)JC had made birthday plans, big birthday plans. He’d surprise Chris with breakfast in bed, feeding him chocolate dipped strawberries and smoked salmon before ushering him into the bathroom where they’d shower using mango scented bath products and JC could wash Chris’ hair before dropping to his knees and blowing his mind.
Then there would be cake, a huge chocolate home made birthday cake with sprinkles and candles, and JC would sing while presenting said cake, basking in the glow of Chris’ gratitude.
Of course it didn’t happen like that at all.
The breakfast was a disaster. The strawberries were mushy and JC spilled the melted chocolate over his pants. Which had hurt; a lot. Not that Chris seemed to care, in fact he seemed singularly uncaring that JC’s dick was suddenly smothered in boiling liquid chocolate. To the extent he yelled down the stairs about shutting the fuck up and that it was only four in the morning and why the fucking fuck was JC screaming like a fucking little girl. Which, hello, JC doesn’t scream like a girl, he wasn’t the one with a girlie high voice, not that Chris seemed to appreciate hearing that.
Chris had slammed out of the house while JC was crouched in the kitchen, pants around his ankles as he picked hardened chocolate out of his pubes. It wasn’t how JC planned it at all.
He consoled himself that he still had cake, but now he’s standing at the counter, surrounded by broken eggs and spilled flour and a bowl filled with grey mush. JC feels like crying, but instead he pushes the mess to one side, and reaches for his old standby.
It doesn’t take long to make boxed brownies. One egg and a spoonful of water. Mix and add the slop to the tin, then fifteen minutes, five minutes of which is spent scratching at his dick, and JC is carefully blowing on the cooling tray, watching as the candle he stuck in the middle slumps to one side.
It’s a reflection of everything really. A lop sided candle and a cake that isn’t a cake at all, just a pretence in the wreckage of the kitchen.
Then the door crashes open, and Chris is there, smiling as he looks at his cake – brownie – cake. Handing over a bag of still warm muffins as he kisses JC’s cheek, thank you evident in his eyes.
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Date: 2007-10-17 06:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-17 11:10 pm (UTC)“I like the one with the monkeys,” Chris says randomly, and Lance rolls onto his back while tugging at the blanket, tucking it under his armpits as he thinks what to say, because monkeys. It could be anything from the zoo to a new ice cream flavour Chris discovered the day before.
“Any special reason,” Lance questions, sleepy and comfortable, one leg thrown over Chris’, his hand resting on the soft swell of Chris’ belly.
“That video, you know, from Fall Out Boy. The one with the monkeys, I like the song.”
Lance smiles, blinking sleepily as Chris sings softly.
“Thanks for the memories, even if they weren’t so great.” He stops then, turning his head so he can look at Lance, and his eyes are dark, moonlit shadows cast across his face and the scruff of his jaw. “They’re right you know. I’m thankful for all my memories, however bad.”
He looks unguarded in that moment, emotions barely hidden as he lets down his defenses, allowing Lance to hear his secrets in the still of night.
It’s a moment that’s over all too quickly, and as Chris suddenly pounces, all wicked ideas and grabby hands, Lance vows to buy Fall Out Boys CD as soon as he can.
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Date: 2007-10-17 07:21 pm (UTC)I'm going to be lazy and go with "jeans," that's pretty flexible right :D?
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Date: 2007-10-18 04:34 pm (UTC)Hands slick with gel, Lance runs his fingers through his hair, artfully arranging spikes until they look just right. When he’s done, his hands are sticky, and he rubs them on his discarded t-shirt, before throwing it into the basket in the corner of the room.
“We’re going to be late,” Lance says, glancing toward the en suite bathroom where Chris is trimming his beard, carefully sniping with tiny scissors, his tongue just visible at the corner of his mouth.
“They’ll wait,” Chris says, looking at Lance in the mirror’s reflection. “It’s not like they can start without us.”
Which is the truth, but Lance still hurries to his walk in closet, making hangers clatter as he looks through the shirts that hang in orderly lines.
“You should wear the white one, with the flowers.”
Lance looks over his shoulder at Chris. He’s standing in the doorway, a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair sticking up in damp spikes. Droplets of water glint on his shoulders, and Lance reminds himself that they need to go. Resolutely, he turns away, attention on the section of white shirts.
“Your button’s loose.”
“I know,” Lance says, and even before he turns, he knows Chris is close. He can feel him, the soft exhale of breath against his skin, the prickle of sensation along his spine.
“I can fasten it for you.”
There’s evident need – desire -- wrapped in one simple sentence, and when Lance finally does turn, he nods, unsurprised when Chris kneels.
He makes no pretence of fastening the buttons of Lance's jeans, instead he looks up, all dark eyes and lashes, his lips slightly parted, as if he's memorising every inch of Lance's face. “I didn't expect this.”
Chris speaks so softly that Lance can hardly hear the words, he doesn’t think he’s meant to hear them. He stands still, his heart racing when Chris suddenly rests his cheek against Lance’s belly, his hands resting against Lance’s back.
It’s intimacy that goes beyond the sexual, something more than either have talked about, something heading toward love.
That suits Lance fine.
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Date: 2007-10-17 08:57 pm (UTC)Happy Chris' Birthday!
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Date: 2007-10-17 09:58 pm (UTC)Prompt...mmmmm...naked JC wrapped in a red ribbon
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Date: 2007-10-17 11:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-18 06:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-18 11:35 am (UTC)as a prompt
because I'm predictable :D
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Date: 2007-10-19 01:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-31 01:46 pm (UTC)