Fic: Timbertrick ficlet.
May. 6th, 2003 05:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mickeymSo, I probably should stop watching vid clips and music videos, since I interrupt my writing plans with spontaneous fic *g* Blame the RYB video for this; I do.
This is for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mdbl, 'cos I owe you so so much, hon. *hugs*
Chris finds himself blinking, the longer he watches the video shoot, until he can't watch any longer. He leaves soundlessly, goes out into an empty corridor to wait alone. Out here, he can think about the music, can think about Justin under the spotlights, with the music shimmering as energy all along his skin, and how he looks nothing like the kid Chris remembers staring up at him, blue eyes open wide, face split with a shit-eating grin.
That boy is long gone, he thinks wistfully. Even the eyes are different, seeing the world now through years of experiences most kids don't ever have to deal with.
The grin is the only thing still the same, and it's infectious, Justin's sly humor leaking through to push away some of the melancholy Chris feels.
The door to the soundstage opens and Trace pokes his head out, looking around. When he sees Chris he nods and disappears back inside the door. Chris figures that must be his cue to reappear, and pushes off the wall he's been leaning against with a sigh. He doesn't want to go in there again; he can't handle watching, because the person shimmying around the floor, grinding and wriggling, isn't the boy he's known for forever, and he thinks he would do well to remember that, and him. The man – not a boy any more – he watched in there is dangerous.
"Hey, you."
Oops. Didn't get back inside fast enough. Justin's smile is genuine, though, full of good humor and a bit of self-deprecation, and Chris returns it. "Hey."
"So? What'd you think?" Justin leans against the wall, facing Chris, face open, waiting. Wanting to hear his opinion. Chris isn't sure what to say, or how to say it. Somehow, I couldn't stand watching any more, because if I did, I'd want to kiss you more than I usually do, just doesn't seem like it's going to cut it. Instead, he smiles.
"You looked good out there. Natural."
"Yeah?" Justin shifts a little closer. "So why'd you take off? I looked up, dude, and you were gone."
"You shouldn't be paying attention to anything but your marks, dude." Justin's inched still closer, and Chris realizes suddenly he has to look up. That's not news; he's had to look up to look at Justin for a while now. But it's—different, suddenly. The air around them is different.
"I always pay attention to where you are, yo."
It's crackling with energy, that's what's different. The same energy that shimmered along Justin's skin, earlier.
Oh. Oh.
Chris swallows and wonders if he'd look like an ass, scooting backward. "Justin—"
"Chris." Just like that, his voice, that one word smooth and slow, and sweet like honey, and Justin's dipping his head, brushing a quick kiss across Chris' mouth.
A quick kiss, followed by another, slower one, and Chris startles just a little when Justin settles a large, warm hand on his shoulder, slides it up and back to cup his head and tilt it, just so. And then, oh. Oh, God. Chris can't even pretend not to like it, can't pretend he hasn't wanted to kiss Justin for years. It feels too good, too right, and he leans forward, opens his mouth and licks at Justin's, feels Justin's moan trickle into his mouth until he can swallow the sound. It's sweet, and warm, and hot and sexy, and Justin's tongue plays and chases his, slicks all around inside his mouth until Chris feels dizzy and light-headed, and can't do anything but kiss back, one arm hooking around Justin so he doesn't lose his balance.
When Justin pulls back his mouth is wet, lips dark pink and soft, and his eyes are huge again, bright blue, shining at him. Chris smiles and squeezes his waist before letting go, thinking that some things have changed, and some have only progressed.
~fin~
This is for
mdbl, 'cos I owe you so so much, hon. *hugs*Chris finds himself blinking, the longer he watches the video shoot, until he can't watch any longer. He leaves soundlessly, goes out into an empty corridor to wait alone. Out here, he can think about the music, can think about Justin under the spotlights, with the music shimmering as energy all along his skin, and how he looks nothing like the kid Chris remembers staring up at him, blue eyes open wide, face split with a shit-eating grin.
That boy is long gone, he thinks wistfully. Even the eyes are different, seeing the world now through years of experiences most kids don't ever have to deal with.
The grin is the only thing still the same, and it's infectious, Justin's sly humor leaking through to push away some of the melancholy Chris feels.
The door to the soundstage opens and Trace pokes his head out, looking around. When he sees Chris he nods and disappears back inside the door. Chris figures that must be his cue to reappear, and pushes off the wall he's been leaning against with a sigh. He doesn't want to go in there again; he can't handle watching, because the person shimmying around the floor, grinding and wriggling, isn't the boy he's known for forever, and he thinks he would do well to remember that, and him. The man – not a boy any more – he watched in there is dangerous.
"Hey, you."
Oops. Didn't get back inside fast enough. Justin's smile is genuine, though, full of good humor and a bit of self-deprecation, and Chris returns it. "Hey."
"So? What'd you think?" Justin leans against the wall, facing Chris, face open, waiting. Wanting to hear his opinion. Chris isn't sure what to say, or how to say it. Somehow, I couldn't stand watching any more, because if I did, I'd want to kiss you more than I usually do, just doesn't seem like it's going to cut it. Instead, he smiles.
"You looked good out there. Natural."
"Yeah?" Justin shifts a little closer. "So why'd you take off? I looked up, dude, and you were gone."
"You shouldn't be paying attention to anything but your marks, dude." Justin's inched still closer, and Chris realizes suddenly he has to look up. That's not news; he's had to look up to look at Justin for a while now. But it's—different, suddenly. The air around them is different.
"I always pay attention to where you are, yo."
It's crackling with energy, that's what's different. The same energy that shimmered along Justin's skin, earlier.
Oh. Oh.
Chris swallows and wonders if he'd look like an ass, scooting backward. "Justin—"
"Chris." Just like that, his voice, that one word smooth and slow, and sweet like honey, and Justin's dipping his head, brushing a quick kiss across Chris' mouth.
A quick kiss, followed by another, slower one, and Chris startles just a little when Justin settles a large, warm hand on his shoulder, slides it up and back to cup his head and tilt it, just so. And then, oh. Oh, God. Chris can't even pretend not to like it, can't pretend he hasn't wanted to kiss Justin for years. It feels too good, too right, and he leans forward, opens his mouth and licks at Justin's, feels Justin's moan trickle into his mouth until he can swallow the sound. It's sweet, and warm, and hot and sexy, and Justin's tongue plays and chases his, slicks all around inside his mouth until Chris feels dizzy and light-headed, and can't do anything but kiss back, one arm hooking around Justin so he doesn't lose his balance.
When Justin pulls back his mouth is wet, lips dark pink and soft, and his eyes are huge again, bright blue, shining at him. Chris smiles and squeezes his waist before letting go, thinking that some things have changed, and some have only progressed.
~fin~
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no subject
Date: 2003-05-06 02:54 pm (UTC)Y'know how I hooted with laughter when you said you'd done a Timbertrick?
Well, I take it back. :-)
You get the Sexy Lance Award for this ficlet. It's wonderful. :-)
no subject
Date: 2003-05-07 05:55 pm (UTC)