Edited! Fictlet!
Mar. 3rd, 2003 05:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aruanMiranda, Ri and I were watching the boys on SNL, and I noticed that JC was wearing a shirt I recognized as Justin's from a photo shoot. It's a very distinctive shirt. Ri then pointed out the studding on Justin's jacket. There followed hilarious conversation, and I should note that JC's line belongs to Miranda, but this insanity is mine.
Title: Of Studs and Men
Author: Jules
Rating: PG, for Justin hysterics
Summary: Love is not raining on your friend's enthusiasm.
Disclaimer: I love JC beyond all reckoning and am actually a fan of his fashion insensibilities. Also, I wouldn't have any basis to claim he'd lick Lance for any reason, though compliments tend to induce that sort of behavior in me.
Author's Notes: Thanks to Miranda and Ri for the conversation that started it all.
JC came walking out of the bathroom, terrycloth towel hanging mostly off his hips. Lance looked up over the rim of his glasses to watch as he bent to root around in a drawer.
"Hey, Lance, what'd you do with my sleeveless pink shirt?"
Lance blinked and thought for a moment. Borrowed it three days ago when his own shirt was ruined on the car ride back. By luck, JC happened to have a jacket with him so they could both feign decency once they had to emerge at the hotel. Golf with Chris, definitely not - wearing kinky stuff under business casual was JC's thing. Dinner at Justin's the next night... Marinara sauce. Right.
JC hadn't asked for specifics though.
"I left it at Justin's. I'll ask Joey to get it the next time he's over there."
JC bolted upright, and yes, there went the towel. God bless gravity, though Lance wished the ruffled-cuff monstrosity JC now held in his hands obscuring the best of his view would go the way of the incinerator. "Uh, you know what, don't bother. He'd probably just turn everything in the wash pink like he did with Chris's favorite sweatshirt, and you know how he got about that."
It was Lance's turn to bristle. The Kirkpatrick vengeance wasn't easily incurred, or soon forgotten. He was still in mourning about the Prada loafers ceremoniously lost to the East River just last night when Chris declared his prized lime paisley tie mottled with rum and Coke needed company. And they weren't even his.
He'd make sure they didn't need to go to another formal event anytime soon.
He took off his glasses and dropped the paper at the foot of the bed, smacking JC's bare ass on his way out. "I'm going to Joey's for a while, and remember we're all doing dinner at Chris's tonight, okay?"
JC tossed an absent "Uh-huh" over his shoulder.
*
"Hey, Joe, do you have any idea where my black pants with the contrast stitching could be?"
Joey grinned but hid the snicker behind his hand. Lance had been valiantly rooting around the chaos that was Joey's closet for the past twenty minutes. That was the first time he'd spoken other than the initial grumbling mutters, and the cautious worry in his voice wasn't entirely unlike a mother who'd turned her back on her toddler for one second. "Don't know man, but you better find them 'cause I heard C muttering to himself about rivets and studding earlier."
"Shit."
He could already hear Lance taking the steps down two at a time as the word reached him.
*
Justin's screeching was distinctive, to be sure. Lance hadn't even turned the car stereo off yet. "What are you doing? That's my jacket!"
Lance could practically hear the joy in JC's words. "I made it all pretty!"
Gritting his teeth, Lance walked a little faster up the front steps. He'd been too late to save that, but hopefully in time enough to rescue whatever else JC had home improvement plans for.
Disconcerting was a mild word for the scene that greeted Lance.
JC was sitting, legs crossed and a Beadazzler in his right hand, in the middle of the living room, every kind of clothing strewn all about him in a radiating semicircle. Justin stood in the middle of the mess, holding up the item under discussion. Coincidentally, in JC's hands were the pants Lance himself had been searching for.
The radiance in JC's smile was flagging with every inch of reddening skin on Justin's neck. Disappointment was a particularly ugly emotion on JC's face. Lance counted down in his head, then calmly picked up the pants. "I like it." He steeled himself and managed a smile. "Matter of fact, I'll wear it to the premier."
It was something of a consolation that the comment effectively earned him a week's worth of sex that night. Justin, however, continued to seethe, albeit quietly. Lance shot him a withering look.
Finally, he sighed and shrugged one shoulder. "It's cool, C. I can wear it for SNL, it'll add an edge to the rhinestones wardrobe would've stuck us with."
Both pairs of eyes turned to Lance's sharp intake of breath when he spotted the matching jacket to his newly-minted pants. Justin smirked and nudged Lance in the side with an elbow. "It's not bad, with the Western thing. I think Chris would really like it, he's been on a kick or something lately."
JC beamed.
*
JC worked over a pair of his own jeans for the show and Chris wore the jacket to the VMAs. Any of them would've sworn JC had been Lance's boyfriend when the night began, but all his joyful fawning made even Joey raise an eyebrow. Lance just smirked and shook his head, shifted his stance slightly. After all, none of them could see the scrap of studded leather JC had surprised him with that morning.
Title: Of Studs and Men
Author: Jules
Rating: PG, for Justin hysterics
Summary: Love is not raining on your friend's enthusiasm.
Disclaimer: I love JC beyond all reckoning and am actually a fan of his fashion insensibilities. Also, I wouldn't have any basis to claim he'd lick Lance for any reason, though compliments tend to induce that sort of behavior in me.
Author's Notes: Thanks to Miranda and Ri for the conversation that started it all.
JC came walking out of the bathroom, terrycloth towel hanging mostly off his hips. Lance looked up over the rim of his glasses to watch as he bent to root around in a drawer.
"Hey, Lance, what'd you do with my sleeveless pink shirt?"
Lance blinked and thought for a moment. Borrowed it three days ago when his own shirt was ruined on the car ride back. By luck, JC happened to have a jacket with him so they could both feign decency once they had to emerge at the hotel. Golf with Chris, definitely not - wearing kinky stuff under business casual was JC's thing. Dinner at Justin's the next night... Marinara sauce. Right.
JC hadn't asked for specifics though.
"I left it at Justin's. I'll ask Joey to get it the next time he's over there."
JC bolted upright, and yes, there went the towel. God bless gravity, though Lance wished the ruffled-cuff monstrosity JC now held in his hands obscuring the best of his view would go the way of the incinerator. "Uh, you know what, don't bother. He'd probably just turn everything in the wash pink like he did with Chris's favorite sweatshirt, and you know how he got about that."
It was Lance's turn to bristle. The Kirkpatrick vengeance wasn't easily incurred, or soon forgotten. He was still in mourning about the Prada loafers ceremoniously lost to the East River just last night when Chris declared his prized lime paisley tie mottled with rum and Coke needed company. And they weren't even his.
He'd make sure they didn't need to go to another formal event anytime soon.
He took off his glasses and dropped the paper at the foot of the bed, smacking JC's bare ass on his way out. "I'm going to Joey's for a while, and remember we're all doing dinner at Chris's tonight, okay?"
JC tossed an absent "Uh-huh" over his shoulder.
"Hey, Joe, do you have any idea where my black pants with the contrast stitching could be?"
Joey grinned but hid the snicker behind his hand. Lance had been valiantly rooting around the chaos that was Joey's closet for the past twenty minutes. That was the first time he'd spoken other than the initial grumbling mutters, and the cautious worry in his voice wasn't entirely unlike a mother who'd turned her back on her toddler for one second. "Don't know man, but you better find them 'cause I heard C muttering to himself about rivets and studding earlier."
"Shit."
He could already hear Lance taking the steps down two at a time as the word reached him.
Justin's screeching was distinctive, to be sure. Lance hadn't even turned the car stereo off yet. "What are you doing? That's my jacket!"
Lance could practically hear the joy in JC's words. "I made it all pretty!"
Gritting his teeth, Lance walked a little faster up the front steps. He'd been too late to save that, but hopefully in time enough to rescue whatever else JC had home improvement plans for.
Disconcerting was a mild word for the scene that greeted Lance.
JC was sitting, legs crossed and a Beadazzler in his right hand, in the middle of the living room, every kind of clothing strewn all about him in a radiating semicircle. Justin stood in the middle of the mess, holding up the item under discussion. Coincidentally, in JC's hands were the pants Lance himself had been searching for.
The radiance in JC's smile was flagging with every inch of reddening skin on Justin's neck. Disappointment was a particularly ugly emotion on JC's face. Lance counted down in his head, then calmly picked up the pants. "I like it." He steeled himself and managed a smile. "Matter of fact, I'll wear it to the premier."
It was something of a consolation that the comment effectively earned him a week's worth of sex that night. Justin, however, continued to seethe, albeit quietly. Lance shot him a withering look.
Finally, he sighed and shrugged one shoulder. "It's cool, C. I can wear it for SNL, it'll add an edge to the rhinestones wardrobe would've stuck us with."
Both pairs of eyes turned to Lance's sharp intake of breath when he spotted the matching jacket to his newly-minted pants. Justin smirked and nudged Lance in the side with an elbow. "It's not bad, with the Western thing. I think Chris would really like it, he's been on a kick or something lately."
JC beamed.
JC worked over a pair of his own jeans for the show and Chris wore the jacket to the VMAs. Any of them would've sworn JC had been Lance's boyfriend when the night began, but all his joyful fawning made even Joey raise an eyebrow. Lance just smirked and shook his head, shifted his stance slightly. After all, none of them could see the scrap of studded leather JC had surprised him with that morning.
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Date: March 4th, 2003 02:48 pm (UTC)I'll try and catch you on AIM next time, then. :-)