(no subject)
Just a little general thing, Chris POV.
Chris knows the world thinks he’s a complete spazz, that he rarely settles down and has quiet moments. He also knows it’s mostly true. He figures he spends ninety percent of his time tapping his feet, bouncing from foot to foot, talking loudly and/or poking at people. It’s the other ten percent that people aren’t as aware of, the ten percent of the time he becomes an observer. He’s quiet and still, and full of thoughts.
JC
While it’s true JC can sometimes be easily distracted, the studio is a place where he’s got total concentration. Chris loves to watch him. Most days, he goes completely unnoticed, JC unaware that Chris is there. Whatever track JC is working on that moment plays, over and over again as JC tweaks and prods and makes it just right. He’ll smile that smile, and Chris will know the sound is perfect. JC’s eyes crinkle at the corners and light up. Sometimes, he tilts his head back and just laughs out loud, drunk on his own success.
Chris stares at JC in those moments, at the happiness he sees on his friend’s face. His eyes follow the long lines of JC’s face, from his cheekbones, along his jaw line down to his Adam’s apple. It’s nothing like Lance’s, but it’s prominent and perfect; so very JC. Sometimes, Chris will laugh with him and JC will finally notice he’s there. In the split second before JC recovers, before he slips back into concentration mode, his eyes will meet Chris’s and Chris will see it, the thing he loves most about JC. Passion.
Joey
Sometimes Chris goes over to Joey’s house for no reason at all. When he does, it’s usually lunchtime; he likes to watch Joey feeding Briahna. Chris will stand in the doorway, smiling and laughing along with the little girl’s giggles as her father clutches a tiny spoon and feeds her pureed…something. It’s orange this time, so Chris thinks carrots. It’s all over Briahna’s face and hands, and when she waves to Chris some of it flies at Joey and hits him in the forehead. Chris laughs louder and Joey glares, but it’s false and Chris can see the happiness in Joey’s eyes. He rarely sees anything else there when it comes to Joey’s daughter.
Joey gets a washcloth and cleans Briahna up, then lets her out of the highchair. She toddles over to Chris as fast as she can, raising her arms up and says, “kis Kis” which of course means, “Kiss Chris,” not “kiss kiss.” Chris picks her up and she throws her arms around his neck and kisses his cheek with a loud smack. Moments like those, Chris thinks he knows why he always sees happiness in Joey’s eyes.
He puts the little girl down on the floor and she toddles back over to her father, throwing her chubby little arms around his calf. “Daddy!” she squeals, and Joey leans down to pick her up, swinging her around just a little bit, forcing even more squeals out of her. Chris laughs again, and when he meets Joey’s eyes, the happiness has mutated into pure, unadulterated joy.
Justin
Justin is a happy guy. Most of the time, his smiles are real and Chris is so proud that he and the others have helped keep a little bit of the tarnish of show business off him. The fake smiles appear sometimes, and Chris thinks that’s okay because really, who’s happy all the damn time anyway?
Sometimes, though, it’s all Chris can do to keep from folding Justin in his arms and hiding him away forever.
It’s not even due to their careers, show business, any of that. The break up with Britney was hard on Justin; first love gone wrong and despite all his successes, his world was falling apart. Chris made sure to be there to gather the pieces, so when Justin was ready he could help him put them back together again.
Justin sat on Chris’s couch, big blue eyes welling up with unshed tears, telling Chris about Britney’s indiscretion. Chris listened, kept his opinions to himself and let Justin talk. The tears finally came in waves; Chris thought there was nothing more painful than seeing sadness like that in Justin’s pretty eyes. Drop after drop poured onto his cheek, wet lashes slapping against his face. Sadness never looked so beautiful.
Lance
If Chris had to pick one of the other guys he could count on to stand beside him in a fight to the death, it was Lance. And Angry Lance was a Scary Lance, something they all found out when it came to light that Lou was ripping them off. Until then, Lance had been more emotionally reserved. He wasn’t shy, he wasn’t quiet, but he didn’t have emotional outbursts very often, and Chris couldn’t really remember a time he saw Lance scream or yell at anyone but himself.
Until Lou. When Lance burst into Chris’s hotel room, waving papers in his face and hollering about “that fat fuck”, Chris saw something on Lance’s face that he hoped to never see aimed in his direction. He was livid. Pissed off. There was pain and hurt. Anger. Green eyes blazing, he let out a primal scream that sent the other three guys into Chris’s room. By the time they arrived, Lance had been reduced to a shuddering mass, huddled against Chris and crying big angry tears.
Chris never worried that they wouldn’t beat Lou.
Chris
The most surprising thing Chris finds, when he stops to look at himself, is the contentment he has with his life. It isn’t perfect, *he* isn’t perfect, but he provides for his family. He has a nice home, a great job and four fantastic friends. There had been many times in his life when he never thought he would feel this way, and most days he thanks the powers that be that he was wrong.
He turns to look at the guys. His brothers, his friends. They’re in Lance’s room, four of them piled on the King sized bed as Chris studies them from his perch on the sofa. Lance is leaning against the headboard, reading a book. JC is snuggled against him dozing, fist curled up in a ball under his chin as Lance idly strokes JC’s long hair with his free hand. Joey is on the other side of JC, feet at the head of the bed. He’s talking quietly with Justin, who is laying long ways across the bed, forehead nearly touching Joey’s and his feet tangled against Lance’s.
There is very little noise in the room, and Chris decides he’s used up his ten percent for the day. He throws himself onto the bed, tickling JC awake as Lance smacks at the back of his head. Justin and Joey roll onto the pile, trying to wrestle Chris off JC. Chris thinks that while there’s something to be said for observing, being involved can be so much more fun.
Chris knows the world thinks he’s a complete spazz, that he rarely settles down and has quiet moments. He also knows it’s mostly true. He figures he spends ninety percent of his time tapping his feet, bouncing from foot to foot, talking loudly and/or poking at people. It’s the other ten percent that people aren’t as aware of, the ten percent of the time he becomes an observer. He’s quiet and still, and full of thoughts.
JC
While it’s true JC can sometimes be easily distracted, the studio is a place where he’s got total concentration. Chris loves to watch him. Most days, he goes completely unnoticed, JC unaware that Chris is there. Whatever track JC is working on that moment plays, over and over again as JC tweaks and prods and makes it just right. He’ll smile that smile, and Chris will know the sound is perfect. JC’s eyes crinkle at the corners and light up. Sometimes, he tilts his head back and just laughs out loud, drunk on his own success.
Chris stares at JC in those moments, at the happiness he sees on his friend’s face. His eyes follow the long lines of JC’s face, from his cheekbones, along his jaw line down to his Adam’s apple. It’s nothing like Lance’s, but it’s prominent and perfect; so very JC. Sometimes, Chris will laugh with him and JC will finally notice he’s there. In the split second before JC recovers, before he slips back into concentration mode, his eyes will meet Chris’s and Chris will see it, the thing he loves most about JC. Passion.
Joey
Sometimes Chris goes over to Joey’s house for no reason at all. When he does, it’s usually lunchtime; he likes to watch Joey feeding Briahna. Chris will stand in the doorway, smiling and laughing along with the little girl’s giggles as her father clutches a tiny spoon and feeds her pureed…something. It’s orange this time, so Chris thinks carrots. It’s all over Briahna’s face and hands, and when she waves to Chris some of it flies at Joey and hits him in the forehead. Chris laughs louder and Joey glares, but it’s false and Chris can see the happiness in Joey’s eyes. He rarely sees anything else there when it comes to Joey’s daughter.
Joey gets a washcloth and cleans Briahna up, then lets her out of the highchair. She toddles over to Chris as fast as she can, raising her arms up and says, “kis Kis” which of course means, “Kiss Chris,” not “kiss kiss.” Chris picks her up and she throws her arms around his neck and kisses his cheek with a loud smack. Moments like those, Chris thinks he knows why he always sees happiness in Joey’s eyes.
He puts the little girl down on the floor and she toddles back over to her father, throwing her chubby little arms around his calf. “Daddy!” she squeals, and Joey leans down to pick her up, swinging her around just a little bit, forcing even more squeals out of her. Chris laughs again, and when he meets Joey’s eyes, the happiness has mutated into pure, unadulterated joy.
Justin
Justin is a happy guy. Most of the time, his smiles are real and Chris is so proud that he and the others have helped keep a little bit of the tarnish of show business off him. The fake smiles appear sometimes, and Chris thinks that’s okay because really, who’s happy all the damn time anyway?
Sometimes, though, it’s all Chris can do to keep from folding Justin in his arms and hiding him away forever.
It’s not even due to their careers, show business, any of that. The break up with Britney was hard on Justin; first love gone wrong and despite all his successes, his world was falling apart. Chris made sure to be there to gather the pieces, so when Justin was ready he could help him put them back together again.
Justin sat on Chris’s couch, big blue eyes welling up with unshed tears, telling Chris about Britney’s indiscretion. Chris listened, kept his opinions to himself and let Justin talk. The tears finally came in waves; Chris thought there was nothing more painful than seeing sadness like that in Justin’s pretty eyes. Drop after drop poured onto his cheek, wet lashes slapping against his face. Sadness never looked so beautiful.
Lance
If Chris had to pick one of the other guys he could count on to stand beside him in a fight to the death, it was Lance. And Angry Lance was a Scary Lance, something they all found out when it came to light that Lou was ripping them off. Until then, Lance had been more emotionally reserved. He wasn’t shy, he wasn’t quiet, but he didn’t have emotional outbursts very often, and Chris couldn’t really remember a time he saw Lance scream or yell at anyone but himself.
Until Lou. When Lance burst into Chris’s hotel room, waving papers in his face and hollering about “that fat fuck”, Chris saw something on Lance’s face that he hoped to never see aimed in his direction. He was livid. Pissed off. There was pain and hurt. Anger. Green eyes blazing, he let out a primal scream that sent the other three guys into Chris’s room. By the time they arrived, Lance had been reduced to a shuddering mass, huddled against Chris and crying big angry tears.
Chris never worried that they wouldn’t beat Lou.
Chris
The most surprising thing Chris finds, when he stops to look at himself, is the contentment he has with his life. It isn’t perfect, *he* isn’t perfect, but he provides for his family. He has a nice home, a great job and four fantastic friends. There had been many times in his life when he never thought he would feel this way, and most days he thanks the powers that be that he was wrong.
He turns to look at the guys. His brothers, his friends. They’re in Lance’s room, four of them piled on the King sized bed as Chris studies them from his perch on the sofa. Lance is leaning against the headboard, reading a book. JC is snuggled against him dozing, fist curled up in a ball under his chin as Lance idly strokes JC’s long hair with his free hand. Joey is on the other side of JC, feet at the head of the bed. He’s talking quietly with Justin, who is laying long ways across the bed, forehead nearly touching Joey’s and his feet tangled against Lance’s.
There is very little noise in the room, and Chris decides he’s used up his ten percent for the day. He throws himself onto the bed, tickling JC awake as Lance smacks at the back of his head. Justin and Joey roll onto the pile, trying to wrestle Chris off JC. Chris thinks that while there’s something to be said for observing, being involved can be so much more fun.