we're both expressible as the sum of two cubes!

[bossymarmalade]

Whoo! I have completed my assignment for the Joey Slashficathon.

Mine is for musiclvr20, who wanted happy Joey/JC with no deathfic. And so here is a bodyswap story, because hey, the old standards never go out of style. Although perhaps they should. *g*

knowing me, knowing you

Joey woke him up. And that was the first annoying thing, because Joey knew better than to do that to JC, especially when JC had used up a lot of energy fucking Joey senseless the night before and needed to replenish for at least a day and a half. The second annoying thing? Was that when JC finally, irritably opened his eyes, it was his own face leaning worriedly over him.

"Fucking no way," JC said in Joey's voice, and watched in horror as his features crumpled. Joey fell away, and JC lay rigid, trying not to feel the beard on his face, the thickness of his thighs, the strange weight girdling his hips. "Oh my God," he said. "Oh my God. Dude, you totally got the better deal."

"First annoying thing," Joey said, and got up.

...

"Okay, first thing," JC said around a mouthful of jam, "is that we don't tell the others."

Joey stared at him. "Jayce," he said, "that's your fourth piece of toast."

JC fiddled with the bacon on his plate, then folded three of them up and crammed them into his mouth. "So?" he asked, toast crumbs puffing out.

"So I wish you wouldn't eat so much. It's not like I got the metabolism you have, y'know."

"Jesus, fine." JC threw down the last piece of heavily-buttered toast and dusted his fingers. "You should just have another couple of eggs and quit bitching me out, man. It's not like another couple of pounds are gonna make much of --" JC caught the look that Joey was giving him, and it seemed the experience of having his own "die die DIE" stare leveled at him was enough to startle him into confused silence. "Anyway," he said again cautiously after Joey had picked up his coffee again and was nursing it, "I think we shouldn't tell the guys. We might go back to normal in a few days."

"Fine." Joey didn't particularly relish the thought of explaining the situation in any case. Hell, he wasn't even sure what the situation was; apart from comic books and bad 80's movies, he didn't think this kind of crap ever happened to people. And it wasn't like he and JC were Superman and Lex Luthor or anything, so it still didn't make any sense. He cleared his throat -- the coffee tasted awful, but JC had militantly prevented him from adding cream and sugar -- and said, "I promised to go clubbing with J and Lance tonight."

JC scowled. Joey watched in interest. He wasn't finding it really weird to watch his face and his body being controlled by somebody else, oddly enough; he had the feeling that it was because he was used to watching himself on screen and in photos anyhow, so seeing himself for real was just one step up. JC, on the other hand, avoided looking at Joey whenever possible. "I was gonna go hang out at Chris's," JC said. "Smoke pot at Chris's," Joey corrected him, and JC gave a lazy shrug and smile that was all JC and nothing like Joey and looked very strange with Joey's heavier musculature.

Joey sighed and tipped a generous splash of half-and-half into his coffee.

…

"What's with the moves, Joe?" Justin laughed, shimmying his hips, and JC was momentarily confused before remembering that the little shoulder-pop he was doing was not a usual part of Joey's dancing repertoire.

"Uh," he said. "Uh, I – dude, you gotta change it up a bit, try out new stuff once in a while." JC stared down at himself – at Joey -- the stretch of the jeans across the fleshy part over his knees, the slight pull at the front of his t-shirt. He felt sweat roll down into his beard and licked his lips fretfully, salt and beer, and found Justin and Lance staring at him curiously.

"You feeling okay?" Lance asked, looking concerned. "You look kinda sick. Like you’re getting the flu or something."

"Nah, he’s probably just worn out from C." Justin grinned and held his hands out in front of him, pumping his hips fluidly, and Lance snorted in amusement. "Seriously," Lance said, "you two should give it a rest once in a while. I mean, if you’re too tired to party –"

"—it means we’re doing it right," JC said acidly. Lance backed off, shaking his head, and Justin rolled his eyes, smiling.

"Yeah, y'all are hardcore," he said.

JC scrubbed a hand over his face. "You have no idea."

…

"Damn," Joey said, then started coughing. Chris regarded him flatly, making no move to help or any show of concern.

"Pussy," he said instead and took the joint from Joey’s shaking fingers. "You got no tolerance for the good stuff, C." Chris sucked on the joint and gave a few little puffs of smoke before passing it back, contented. Joey took the joint and sipped delicately at it. He didn’t know where Chris got his stuff, but it was sticky and smelly and already kicking in, even on the second pull.

"Wow. He -- I mean, I smoke a lot of pot, man," Joey said. Chris laughed.

"And yet, your ability to write deep songs about fucking alien girls over the internet is undiminished!"

"Fuck off," Joey said easily, smiling. JC's limbs were so light, he felt just about on the verge of floating away, parts of him turning numb and then full of pins. He rolled his head against the back of the sofa and felt curls tangling, and laughed out loud.

"Dude, were you drinking before you got here?" Chris wanted to know. "Because you seem to be kind of in an altered state. Or something."

"No," Joey said. "I’m just not really myself right now."

"Ahhhhh, another Wonderland trip." Chris nodded wisely. "You and your shrooms, man."

Joey just smiled, closed his eyes and let his limbs float away.

…

"I don't think Chris caught on," Joey told JC as he squinted into the mirror. "Hey, your eyes aren’t even red!"

"No," JC said from the bed. "My eyes never get red from smoking up." There was a rustle as JC sat up, naked. "Joey, come to bed, man. Just been dancing, I need to get off in the worst way."

Joey came out and stood by the bed in his boxers, somewhat unsure. "I dunno about this, Jayce," he said. "I mean, I'm fine with me having sex and all – I mean, like, I'm fine with my body having sex, but I'm used to being in it at the time. I don’t know if I’m ready to see my own orgasm face."

"That’s the hottest part," JC said, and really, he was staring at Joey with big dilated eyes, licking his lips. Joey snorted.

"You’re such a fucking freak," he said fondly, sliding down onto the bed, hesitating only a minute before he slipped JC's arms around his body, feeling his own rich skin and muscle, feeling it with JC's hard little fingertips. JC was already making moaning noises and nipping at Joey's jawline, and the sound of that, the timbre of Joey’s own voice, made his blood start to rise, hot and intrigued.

"Fuck me," JC murmured against Joey’s throat, and damn if Joey didn’t push him face-down right then, push himself down except "himself" was doing that little wriggle that JC did when he was in heat, ass rising and falling, fingers curling in the sheets. Joey was sure that he should be feeling more self-conscious about this, seeing his own body writhing like that, legs spread and voice imploring and needy, but all he was feeling was the hardness of his (JC’s!) cock and the almost dizzying lust swirling up his throat.

Boxers off, and condom and lube on, and his fingers greasy with lube, hesitating for a moment before Joey pushed them in, JC's sturdy knobbly fingers and watched breathlessly as his body screwed up to meet the push. Joey could practically feel the strain in the backs of his thighs, taste the sweat on his face, and JC moaned and fucked back onto his own fingers with complete slutty abandon. "Joey," JC groaned. "Fuck me, man. You’re so fucking hot, this is the kind of thing I see, Joe, when I get to fuck you, don’t you wanna? It'll feel so good, I promise, you always feel sooooo good."

"Jeezus," Joey breathed, and climbed up to his knees, feeling the muscles in JC's legs quiver, tense and thrumming as he lined up and pushed in. The feeling through JC's cock of entering someone was the same, but different in ways that were too subtle to pinpoint; the throb as he pumped slowly in and out was almost too much to bear. You're fucking yourself, Joey's mind screeched insistently, but his body – JC's body – was just going more more morefuckingMORE and really, JC's body had the stronger point and so Joey kept going, with JC mindlessly banging back to meet his thrusts, and before he knew it JC was yowling and Joey's mind was exploding and they tumbled down to the bedsheets, drained and twitching and panting hard.

"Dude," JC said finally. "Dude," Joey said back. They were quiet for a bit more and then Joey said, "I'm really fucking hot."

JC snorted and turned on his side. "Well yeah, idiot," he said. "We both are." He paused to give a jaw-cracking yawn. "But hot or not, I still can't wait to get out of this body."

Joey grinned sleepily. "Why? You'd just be getting into it again." JC elbowed him, then scrunched back so they were spooning. "Next time, I'll make you watch your orgasm face," he said. Joey kissed the back of his head.

"Y'know, I think you’re right. That might be kind of hot."

"Told you," JC said, right before he fell asleep.