you could load it up with lots of swears! that's what david mamet does!

[bossymarmalade]

So I had this idea where I was going to write twenty-four timbertrick conversations with little to no exposition. Just because I am madly in love with writing dialogue. But I got through three of them before realizing that I just couldn't make it work in a fic-type format, because my skillz evidently lie elsewhere. And then I didn't know what to do with them. So obviously, this means that I'm posting them here.

...

"Remember when we had sex in that old office of mine? The decorated one with the white flat couch-thing and the white shag carpet?"

"Oh, yeah. With the goldfish." Justin wrinkled his nose and allowed himself to loll on the sofa. "I didn't like that."

Chris looked affronted. "What, the sex?"

"The goldfish. It was looking at us the whole time."

Chris blinked. "You cannot be serious, you big freak."

"No, for real!" Justin sucked in his cheeks until his mouth was a little twist and proceeded to make fishy faces. His nose moved up and down in time with the motion. "Wub wub. Just like that, Chris, it was weird with him watching. I'm a nice boy, y'know. I don't go in for that kinda thing."

"You're still a freak. And anyway, stupid, goldfish only have two-second memories."

"Who needs a memory? Porn is porn." Justin trailed one hand down his side languorously, fingertips catching slightly on the waistband of his jeans. He slipped his fingers into a belt loop, slanted his gaze at Chris, rubbed his thumb against his white tank until it curled up and showed skin. "Don't need to remember nothin'."

"Don't try the starlet act with me, baby. I'm too used to you, it doesn't work anymore."

"Big deal." Justin adjusted, brought his knees up, started pushing his fingers down into his jeans. He smiled. Chris smiled back and waited until that moment when Justin first dragged his fingers across his cock, that moment where Chris should stop him or take over or something, and he let it stretch and stretch and watched Justin lick his lips and then finally stubbornly start jerking himself off, glaring at Chris and then eventually ignoring him completely.

"Wub wub," Chris said in satisfaction when Justin came.

...

"I don't really wanna talk about Dani," Chris said shortly. Justin sat next to him and slumped a bit across the table, his elbows splaying out to crowd Chris's forearms. Chris was burning-up warm and Justin's elbows were dry and scratchy.

"Fine," Justin said, tired. "We can talk about it later." Chris stayed quiet. His leg was jumping under the table, thousand miles an hour, jackrabbit on speed. Justin stared down at their drinks. "You know I'm not gonna just forget about this, man, I'm not gonna let it go. Chris."

"You say my name too fucking much," Chris said, the words tight between his teeth.

Justin counted to fifteen, then took several deep breaths, then cleaned his watch, two times. He got up to dance.

...

"You ever seen those ski racks on top of cars where they look like ravens?"

There was a slight pause, then Justin went, "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about. Ravens?"

"Yeah." Chris stared at the SUV in front of him, the strange dipping slices of plastic on its roof. Pitch black and he expected them to fly up at any moment, startled by a car horn or the lurch of traffic. "Like, fuckin' crows, dude. The latches look like crows, y'know, when they're pecking at something? On the ground?"

"I thought you promised you weren't gonna drive around high anymore?" Justin's voice was casual and it cracked on the high notes, Chris could tell from the sound that Justin was feeling affectionate and indulgent.

"I want to get hiiiiigh, sooooo high," he crooned absently. The SUV driver was driving with both feet on the pedals, he was sure of it. Nobody needed to brake every eight feet with fluttery little brake lights in-between. The other end of the phone was quiet for a bit and Chris waited; Justin got distracted, but he always came back.

"Listen, Chris," Justin said. "I gotta go. Tell me you're using the hands-free set."

"What?"

"The fucking hands-free! The ones Joey gave us when he was drunk and made us all promise to use so we don't swerve off the road and mow down teenagers."

"Our favourite demographic? Heaven forbid." Chris grinned and tapped his fingers along the steering wheel, pinkie to index and back again. "Stupid Joey. Who says he's allowed to remember stuff he did when he's drunk? It's not natural."

"Totally unfair," Justin agreed. "So?"

"What would you say if I said I wasn't using it?"

"I'd tell Joey on you."

"You would, too, you little scab," Chris said silkily, and Justin purred back, "Ho-yeah. That way I don't feel so bad about lying to Joey when I tell'im I'm using mine."

"In that case, I use mine even when I'm in the shower. I use it when I'm asleep. I'm thinking of having it installed into my head."

A snort. "Fucking idiot. Love you."

The SUV with the crows had turned off the road somewhere along the way; Chris hadn't noticed it going.

...

Comments

[nopseud]

I love all of these. They like cake slices -- all the layers, and suggeting what the whole cake might look like. I'd love to see another 21.

[bossymarmalade.livejournal.com]

mmmmmmmm, cake. Oh, you had to compare my writing to *cake*, didn't you? That's so wonderful I'm bouncing in my chair. Thank you so much!