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bossymarmalade) wrote2002-01-31 12:26 pm
bossymarmalade) wrote2002-01-31 12:26 pm
(no subject)
Stupid Justin. Here are the main reasons I grew to love him--which doubles as a list of recs, because you guys fucking rule and I never get tired of
Endymion.. Britney is a lot like him. Justin likes that, likes how in photos of the two of them they both have the same kind of smile. They understand each other.
Salt.. The really nice thing about Justin was that he never made Chris feel like he was fucking a kid.
Kiss Me.. If he didn't get the reaction he wanted, Justin would practice until he made perfect.
My Baby, On You.. He went from the stage where he worried that Chris would never know how much he loved him, to the stage where he was convinced that everyone knew he liked Chris and was laughing at him.
Break.. The tiny bathroom is all yours, and you do not hurry. Justin-in-the-mirror stares back at you, not looking tired at all. And you aren't. You're a man now, strong and fit and thick with muscle. You've got energy to spare, and four hours a night is plenty of sleep for you. You hate that, suddenly, wondering if perhaps, if you'd trembled, if you'd shaken, if maybe JC would have forgotten the unforgettable things you said and kissed you behind the ear, if Lance would have forgiven the slap, the black eye, and rumbled something nice in his low voice, and curled his heavy body around you.
Caught.. Later you decide, yes, that was definitely Chris’ hand rubbing your thigh.
And yes, that’s you. Very hard.
Won't Change the Fact.. He missed Chris, fiercely, and wondered what he'd done wrong. It didn't help that Chris had said, earnestly in that voice that meant he *couldn't* be lying to you, 'no, no, see, it's me and I can't explain it,' because, because.
Weak.. If he still wanted to fight, Justin would fight. If he was ready to be concilatory, so was this slim, coiled and corded dark and light creature next to him, sodden and dripping now in the rain like Chris, but unlike him, still as stunning and breathlessly beautiful as always.
Slut.. You can't help it that you grew up in the spotlight and have therefore become jaded and cynical. You don't believe in romance or love or anything of that sort. Quick, hard fucks and explosive, mind-numbing orgasms are all that you believe in.
Talk To Me.. “You whine a lot, you know that?” Justin asked himself. Another pause. “I don’t whine, I just hate it when people tease me. And well, teasing myself isn’t actually helping at all. I should stop.”
Hot.. Tentatively, he touches Chris's cheek, draws a finger slowly down the scruffy flesh, the rough spurts of hair that Chris doesn't want to shave yet. It scratches, and it's coarse, and Justin leans into it, dragging his lips over the rugged terrain, a pointed tongue following the trail.
"Okay," Justin says, though the question hasn't been asked, doesn't need to be asked, because Justin will give it all to him.
Yella.. Justin realized that he was standing in the middle of Walmart-or-Target, getting a hard on thinking about his boy's body. OK, back to business. Toys, shoes or boxers?
Dirty Crop.. Justin ran a hand over his buzzed-hair. "Yeah, I just cut it yesterday." Lance squirmed a little when Justin flashed him a harsh look before turning back to the interviewer. "Got tired of the curls, tired of people always wanting to touch them, y'know."
Lance looked up at the ceiling and couldn't decide if he wanted to beat or fuck the living daylights out of Justin.
Cycle of Fifths.. You didn't know what to expect the next time. You were scared to go, but you wanted it, wanted him so much that it made your heart hurt whenever he was around. So you had to.
It was late when you went, and you didn't need to say anything. He fucked you hard, slick and precise, not looking at you. He came before you did and jerked you off. You buried your face in the pillow with your orgasm, biting off words you knew he wouldn't want to hear.
==
There's plenty more, but I'm kinda tired and woozy. I'll come back and harass you guys with the rest of my list later. ^_^
Endymion.. Britney is a lot like him. Justin likes that, likes how in photos of the two of them they both have the same kind of smile. They understand each other.
Salt.. The really nice thing about Justin was that he never made Chris feel like he was fucking a kid.
Kiss Me.. If he didn't get the reaction he wanted, Justin would practice until he made perfect.
My Baby, On You.. He went from the stage where he worried that Chris would never know how much he loved him, to the stage where he was convinced that everyone knew he liked Chris and was laughing at him.
Break.. The tiny bathroom is all yours, and you do not hurry. Justin-in-the-mirror stares back at you, not looking tired at all. And you aren't. You're a man now, strong and fit and thick with muscle. You've got energy to spare, and four hours a night is plenty of sleep for you. You hate that, suddenly, wondering if perhaps, if you'd trembled, if you'd shaken, if maybe JC would have forgotten the unforgettable things you said and kissed you behind the ear, if Lance would have forgiven the slap, the black eye, and rumbled something nice in his low voice, and curled his heavy body around you.
Caught.. Later you decide, yes, that was definitely Chris’ hand rubbing your thigh.
And yes, that’s you. Very hard.
Won't Change the Fact.. He missed Chris, fiercely, and wondered what he'd done wrong. It didn't help that Chris had said, earnestly in that voice that meant he *couldn't* be lying to you, 'no, no, see, it's me and I can't explain it,' because, because.
Weak.. If he still wanted to fight, Justin would fight. If he was ready to be concilatory, so was this slim, coiled and corded dark and light creature next to him, sodden and dripping now in the rain like Chris, but unlike him, still as stunning and breathlessly beautiful as always.
Slut.. You can't help it that you grew up in the spotlight and have therefore become jaded and cynical. You don't believe in romance or love or anything of that sort. Quick, hard fucks and explosive, mind-numbing orgasms are all that you believe in.
Talk To Me.. “You whine a lot, you know that?” Justin asked himself. Another pause. “I don’t whine, I just hate it when people tease me. And well, teasing myself isn’t actually helping at all. I should stop.”
Hot.. Tentatively, he touches Chris's cheek, draws a finger slowly down the scruffy flesh, the rough spurts of hair that Chris doesn't want to shave yet. It scratches, and it's coarse, and Justin leans into it, dragging his lips over the rugged terrain, a pointed tongue following the trail.
"Okay," Justin says, though the question hasn't been asked, doesn't need to be asked, because Justin will give it all to him.
Yella.. Justin realized that he was standing in the middle of Walmart-or-Target, getting a hard on thinking about his boy's body. OK, back to business. Toys, shoes or boxers?
Dirty Crop.. Justin ran a hand over his buzzed-hair. "Yeah, I just cut it yesterday." Lance squirmed a little when Justin flashed him a harsh look before turning back to the interviewer. "Got tired of the curls, tired of people always wanting to touch them, y'know."
Lance looked up at the ceiling and couldn't decide if he wanted to beat or fuck the living daylights out of Justin.
Cycle of Fifths.. You didn't know what to expect the next time. You were scared to go, but you wanted it, wanted him so much that it made your heart hurt whenever he was around. So you had to.
It was late when you went, and you didn't need to say anything. He fucked you hard, slick and precise, not looking at you. He came before you did and jerked you off. You buried your face in the pillow with your orgasm, biting off words you knew he wouldn't want to hear.
==
There's plenty more, but I'm kinda tired and woozy. I'll come back and harass you guys with the rest of my list later. ^_^