Day Twenty-Eight

Not many things in this world gayer than those two boys gesturing together in the same room. That is all.

Passages by Chris J

Sometimes, Joey wishes time could stand still.

Just sometimes, in moments like the first time he sang with the rest of the guys, like playing Madison Square Garden to a sellout crowd, like the release of their sixth album, when everyone finally knows they're there to stay. Like the first time he slept with JC. Like the birth of his daughter. Those moments he wishes could go on forever.

But nothing ever does, and he knows that, and he takes what he can get.

So he stands leaning against the bathroom doorframe and just watches as JC steps out of the shower. Watches as JC reaches blindly for his towel and wipes off his face before scrubbing his hair, leaving it in little haphazard spikes all over his head. Finally, JC wraps the towel around his waist and looks up to see Joey watching him.

"Perv," he teases, grinning broadly and adjusting the towel to make sure it's secure.

And other wonderful images like that. It's just good, kids.

It seems I am a woman of few words tonight. Mark it. Or something. I'm to bed.