(no subject)
Busy, busy, busy. Real life can be a bitch.
after-effect; fire extinguisher; indoctrinate; tongue; musty
The musty smell of the surrounding walls filled his lungs as he breathed in, stepping slowly into the house. Memories of what once was littered the ground, as ashes fluttered desolately in the enclosed area, the occasional breeze through the blackened windows sending another trill of ruin flapping noisily across the floor, scattering the burnt remains.
A fire extinguisher lay uselessly among the wreckage, a smudge of faded red amidst the dark, and JC couldn’t help but smile a little at the irony behind it all. There was always a hint of morbid humor to be found in any disastrous situation, after all. It was nature. Either that, or a certain someone up there having a laugh at the world’s expense.
The firefighters stood at a corner, masks hiding their expressionless faces, experience washing all emotion away, leaving a blank, soulless being in its wake. Too many disasters experienced, too many loved ones lost, too much pain to be held in, so all that was left was the numbness.
There were no sympathetic nods as they were indoctrinated to carry whatever furniture could be salvaged out of the house, and no exchanged glances of pity as the ruins were hoisted onto their shoulders, and brought out the door.
JC watched them for a second, before a police officer walked up to him, pen in hand, mouth puckered. “Mr. Chasez?”
JC couldn’t quite find it in himself to refute the man's pronunciation with corrections, and simply nodded, as the detective rambled on about the fire and the damage it had inflicted, and how the house would be sealed off as soon as they made sure the fire had been purely accidental.
JC nodded when he saw the balding man pause to take a breath, and was about to convey his thanks, when a mass of blonde hair interrupted him, all blue eyes and soul and a messy tangle of arms. “I heard about it over the news and. Oh Christ, baby. Are you okay? Thank god.”
JC ran a comforting hand over Nick’s back as the younger man continued rambling on, fisting a handful of his shirt, eyes pressed against his shoulder, tears soaking the cotton-white material.
The policeman only raised an eyebrow at them questioningly before raising his hands in surrender at JC’s cold glare, and then turned and walked away.
“Baby. Baby. I’m all right. It’s okay. I was going to sell the house soon anyway. It’s okay.” JC mumbled into Nick’s ear, his boyfriend still clutching to him like a baby would their mother.
Their current three-month relationship was the after-effect of a one-night stand that hadn’t quite lasted only one night. Nick’s soft, goofy grin had tugged on JC’s heartstrings, and the innocent puppy-dog look he managed to turn on and off like a light caught JC unaware, stealing his breath.
And JC had fallen prey to the conflicting emotions churning in his stomach, giving in to the sweet temptation caused by a bright, sunny smile. One JC wished he still owned. One he knew he could never get back.
Nick pulled back, forcing a smile. He moved his hand to stroke the older man’s cheek, tenderly, and then leaned in to kiss JC. His tongue was sweet and soft and warm, a smudge of reddish-pink amidst the dark canvas of JC’s soul, already charred too far beyond recognition to ever be saved.
insatiable; bodyguard; childish; kebab; ferocious
“I missed this.” Howie turned to Nick, the childish excitement shining in his eyes conveying his gratefulness at the outing better than any amount of eloquence ever could.
“Yeah, well, I figured you’d like some time out. What with your new album and everything, you know? And, well, we haven’t. In a long time. Not like this, you know?”
Their bodyguard was far enough in the background that Nick could pretend it was a regular outing, and consider Howie’s words, nodding thoughtfully. “Yeah. It feels like, when, you know, when we’d sneak out and go for a crazy fun day.”
Howie chuckled a little, hair framing his face as his eyes crinkled with laughter-lines. “I will never forget the time you hid the chicken kebab in your bag and forgot all about it. Dude, the smell!”
Nick pouted a little, and shoved his hands into his jean pockets, scuffing at the curb with the tip of his shoes. “Yeah, well. I was 16, man!”
“Old enough.”
Nick put on his best ferocious look as Howie dissolved into another fit of laughter, which only made him laugh even harder. “Dude, scary bunnies went out of fashion years ago.”
Nick narrowed his eyes, glaring at Howie from under his lashes, and all laughter stopped, abruptly, and Nick watched as Howie’s adam’s apple bobbed up and down uncomfortably. Then he looked up and smiled. “I want an ice-cream.”
Howie blinked, and the moment vanished, the unsettling feeling at the back of his mind quickly fading.
Howie watched as Nick devoured a second ice-cream, eyes wide. “Nick, your appetite is insatiable. Are you sure it’s healthy to eat *that* much sugar in the span of two hours?”
Nick shrugged, concentrating more on trying to lick the dollop of cream of his bottom lip than actually listening to Howie. “Mmm, well, I'm a growing boy.”
Howie swallowed again as the unusual feeling came back, stronger this time, watching Nick lick the white cream off his face, trying as hard as he could to stop his mind from swimming in lust about three inches thick and forcing a halfway coherent sentence from his lips. “Management’s gonna fit. Have a, I mean. Have fit.”
“They can go fuck themselves.” Nick replied, suddenly steely-eyed, voice hard and cold.
And Howie knew better than to say anymore.
The rest of the outing was subdued, and Nick spoke less, if at all, which was nothing unusual, when he wasn’t around one of the Boys. Howie felt slightly guilty for turning the whole situation upside-down, and forcing the awkwardness upon them.
But when they finally reached Nick’s home, later that night, there was a soft squeeze of hands, a gentle smile, and a sparkle of something-more in his blue eyes, before Nick was gone.
And suddenly Howie recognized the liquid-fire burning through his veins.
He only hoped he’d have the guts to tell Nick the next time they met up.
after-effect; fire extinguisher; indoctrinate; tongue; musty
The musty smell of the surrounding walls filled his lungs as he breathed in, stepping slowly into the house. Memories of what once was littered the ground, as ashes fluttered desolately in the enclosed area, the occasional breeze through the blackened windows sending another trill of ruin flapping noisily across the floor, scattering the burnt remains.
A fire extinguisher lay uselessly among the wreckage, a smudge of faded red amidst the dark, and JC couldn’t help but smile a little at the irony behind it all. There was always a hint of morbid humor to be found in any disastrous situation, after all. It was nature. Either that, or a certain someone up there having a laugh at the world’s expense.
The firefighters stood at a corner, masks hiding their expressionless faces, experience washing all emotion away, leaving a blank, soulless being in its wake. Too many disasters experienced, too many loved ones lost, too much pain to be held in, so all that was left was the numbness.
There were no sympathetic nods as they were indoctrinated to carry whatever furniture could be salvaged out of the house, and no exchanged glances of pity as the ruins were hoisted onto their shoulders, and brought out the door.
JC watched them for a second, before a police officer walked up to him, pen in hand, mouth puckered. “Mr. Chasez?”
JC couldn’t quite find it in himself to refute the man's pronunciation with corrections, and simply nodded, as the detective rambled on about the fire and the damage it had inflicted, and how the house would be sealed off as soon as they made sure the fire had been purely accidental.
JC nodded when he saw the balding man pause to take a breath, and was about to convey his thanks, when a mass of blonde hair interrupted him, all blue eyes and soul and a messy tangle of arms. “I heard about it over the news and. Oh Christ, baby. Are you okay? Thank god.”
JC ran a comforting hand over Nick’s back as the younger man continued rambling on, fisting a handful of his shirt, eyes pressed against his shoulder, tears soaking the cotton-white material.
The policeman only raised an eyebrow at them questioningly before raising his hands in surrender at JC’s cold glare, and then turned and walked away.
“Baby. Baby. I’m all right. It’s okay. I was going to sell the house soon anyway. It’s okay.” JC mumbled into Nick’s ear, his boyfriend still clutching to him like a baby would their mother.
Their current three-month relationship was the after-effect of a one-night stand that hadn’t quite lasted only one night. Nick’s soft, goofy grin had tugged on JC’s heartstrings, and the innocent puppy-dog look he managed to turn on and off like a light caught JC unaware, stealing his breath.
And JC had fallen prey to the conflicting emotions churning in his stomach, giving in to the sweet temptation caused by a bright, sunny smile. One JC wished he still owned. One he knew he could never get back.
Nick pulled back, forcing a smile. He moved his hand to stroke the older man’s cheek, tenderly, and then leaned in to kiss JC. His tongue was sweet and soft and warm, a smudge of reddish-pink amidst the dark canvas of JC’s soul, already charred too far beyond recognition to ever be saved.
insatiable; bodyguard; childish; kebab; ferocious
“I missed this.” Howie turned to Nick, the childish excitement shining in his eyes conveying his gratefulness at the outing better than any amount of eloquence ever could.
“Yeah, well, I figured you’d like some time out. What with your new album and everything, you know? And, well, we haven’t. In a long time. Not like this, you know?”
Their bodyguard was far enough in the background that Nick could pretend it was a regular outing, and consider Howie’s words, nodding thoughtfully. “Yeah. It feels like, when, you know, when we’d sneak out and go for a crazy fun day.”
Howie chuckled a little, hair framing his face as his eyes crinkled with laughter-lines. “I will never forget the time you hid the chicken kebab in your bag and forgot all about it. Dude, the smell!”
Nick pouted a little, and shoved his hands into his jean pockets, scuffing at the curb with the tip of his shoes. “Yeah, well. I was 16, man!”
“Old enough.”
Nick put on his best ferocious look as Howie dissolved into another fit of laughter, which only made him laugh even harder. “Dude, scary bunnies went out of fashion years ago.”
Nick narrowed his eyes, glaring at Howie from under his lashes, and all laughter stopped, abruptly, and Nick watched as Howie’s adam’s apple bobbed up and down uncomfortably. Then he looked up and smiled. “I want an ice-cream.”
Howie blinked, and the moment vanished, the unsettling feeling at the back of his mind quickly fading.
Howie watched as Nick devoured a second ice-cream, eyes wide. “Nick, your appetite is insatiable. Are you sure it’s healthy to eat *that* much sugar in the span of two hours?”
Nick shrugged, concentrating more on trying to lick the dollop of cream of his bottom lip than actually listening to Howie. “Mmm, well, I'm a growing boy.”
Howie swallowed again as the unusual feeling came back, stronger this time, watching Nick lick the white cream off his face, trying as hard as he could to stop his mind from swimming in lust about three inches thick and forcing a halfway coherent sentence from his lips. “Management’s gonna fit. Have a, I mean. Have fit.”
“They can go fuck themselves.” Nick replied, suddenly steely-eyed, voice hard and cold.
And Howie knew better than to say anymore.
The rest of the outing was subdued, and Nick spoke less, if at all, which was nothing unusual, when he wasn’t around one of the Boys. Howie felt slightly guilty for turning the whole situation upside-down, and forcing the awkwardness upon them.
But when they finally reached Nick’s home, later that night, there was a soft squeeze of hands, a gentle smile, and a sparkle of something-more in his blue eyes, before Nick was gone.
And suddenly Howie recognized the liquid-fire burning through his veins.
He only hoped he’d have the guts to tell Nick the next time they met up.