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emmuzkaSince the authors are no longer a secret, I will post my fic. Originally written for Lesa Soja in Don We Now Our Gay Apparel 2006
Title: Under The Milky Way Tonight
Author: Emmuzka
Pairing: Chris/Justin
Rating: PG
Original prompt: Conversations in cars, kissing and kitchens.
Under The Milky Way Tonight
There are the Hollywood secrets and then there are the real secrets.
He knows and Lynn knows. Cameron knows because they work as beards for each other. The record company. The insurance company. Chris.
Chris picks Justin up from the airport. They all call the break the Christmas holidays, but Justin thinks that this might be it. He is beginning to regret the third single. It was supposed to be the last, anyway. The Company calls it only a break, but the suits have never been big fans of closure.
Chris is already waiting when Justin arrives to the VIP lounge. There is no one else there.
”Had a good flight?” I missed you. Are you all right?
”Uh huh.” Justin knows that Chris knows that he is tired, so that is a one thing less to lie about. ”You are supposed to say that I look like shit.”
Chris gives him the eye. ”Not funny.” He turns to head for the car. No need to ask if Justin has extra luggage.
”You were supposed to say fuck you,” Justin continues to Chris’ receiving back. ”But now I’m supposed to say something about pod people,” Justin murmurs and hurries after him.
In their way to home Chris asks him about the Victoria’s Secret thing and how much gigs he has in his schedule. He asks about his mom. Justin tells that the lingerie thing was great and that his mother is well. He doesn’t tell about his career maybe possibly going indefinitely on hold.
The car’s heaters are on full blast and it makes Justin’s throat go dry and his eyes feel like there is sand in them. He doesn’t adjust the heaters. They talk about William Rask. Well, Justin talks about William Rask. Chris talks about his fake vintage clothesline. Really, Justin appreciates that Chris doesn’t talk about what he is obviously dying to ask. Justin plays with his seatbelt and watches the lights marking the road passing them by. Seeing deer eyes reflecting the car’s lights would now suit his mood, but there are no deer this close to the city.
When they finally arrive to the yard, Chris turns off the engine but he doesn’t make a motion to open the door. Instead, he turns to Justin. If pretending could be bottled, it still wouldn’t do because this was ready to be cut with a knife.
”Are we going to keep this up the whole night? Because I’m sure that we both have better things to do than this.”
This had been coming from the minute Chris stepped to the VIP lounge, but Justin isn’t giving up that easily. ”What are you saying?”
Chris leans to the steering wheel. He wants to bash his head to it but the resulting blaring of the horn would surely summon the guards that the selective gated community is crawling of.
”I’m saying that this is all going to shit. Do you want us to pretend that everything is great, just for tonight?”
”Yes. No. Chris! Let’s just, let’s just be. Is it too much to ask for one night? One night without anger, we drink beer or bake cookies like normal people.”
”No beer.”
”Then let’s bake the damn cookies!”
”Sure. Okay.” Chris read once a theory where there was a hippo in the living room. It must apply to cars, too. He would have a nice, normal evening with Justin, even if it would kill him. And if everything else failed, he could always pretend. Anything Justin wanted tonight, he would be damned not to give it.
Justin looks Chris suspiciously. ”There are only the two of us so anything you want to say, just throw it out. Or something.” Justin smirks. ”I have some excellent Chardonnay and lots of white walls and carpets for you to throw it. Hell, you can throw the glasses, too.”
”If it comes to that, don’t be so sure I wouldn’t do that.” They are in the same page now.
Justin and Chris are kissing friends. JC invented the word way back when. Kissing friends are friends who sometimes make out, just for fun. For Justin and Chris, it means friendship that will never go past the kissing, because. Just because.
Kissing friends, they say. What will always go unsaid is my life. My soul.
Justin’s house - the other house, the one just for him-, has been cleaned thoroughly. It smells like artificial pine and it feels warm and Christmassy even without the ornaments. Chris throws his bag to the hall floor and the old leather bag looks like a sacrilege on the pristine room.
”Do you know what feels most like Christmas here? The inhuman cleanness.” Chris still associates a freshly cleaned house to holidays because those where the only times when his home was scrubbed from floor to ceiling when he was a kid.
Justin continues straight to the kitchen from the door. Kitchen is homely and safe. It will probably be the room where they end up spending the whole evening.
”I get what you mean. I’m used to the inhuman cleanness, though. That’s called the cleaning service.” Justin looks around in his shiny kitchen and the artistic fruit bowl. ”And interior decorator and California Closets.”
Justin strips his outermost shirt. He is wearing three. It doesn’t escape from Chris who frowns.
”If you got a fever...”
”Give me a break! It’s warm in there!” They have been doing this a million times already and Justin really thought that Chris would give it a rest for the night.
”Okay, yes.” Chris has to admit that it really is warm. He rubs his hands together. ”So how about those cookies?”
Justin’s medicine cabinet is well stocked. Hell, he carries a cabinet worth of meds with him. Advin, Excedrin, Sudafed, Triaminic, says in the bottles. Zidovudine, Lamivudine, Efavirenz, says in the pills. Justin never carries the prescriptions with him.
They end up really making cookies, from scratch. The kitchen is more than adequately stocked with butter, eggs, baking flour and chocolate chips. Chris is piping frosting (I can’t believe that I’m doing this!), standing by the cupboard and leaning over his task when Justin comes and hugs him from behind. Chris lays his hands on the table. Justin mouths his neck and suddenly Chris feels like he could break to pieces.
”We are still doing that.” Please say that we are still doing that.
”Yes, of course.” Justin kisses his neck and then lets his hold get just loose enough for Chris to turn to face him.
”You su-” Chris starts, but he is silenced by the soft press of lips.
Their kiss is tentative and warm. Every time they forget just how it feels, they forget just enough for it to feel almost like it was the first time.
It’s perfect, them together, kissing by the kitchen counter. It has to be perfect, because it’s all they will have.
Title: Under The Milky Way Tonight
Author: Emmuzka
Pairing: Chris/Justin
Rating: PG
Original prompt: Conversations in cars, kissing and kitchens.
Under The Milky Way Tonight
There are the Hollywood secrets and then there are the real secrets.
He knows and Lynn knows. Cameron knows because they work as beards for each other. The record company. The insurance company. Chris.
Chris picks Justin up from the airport. They all call the break the Christmas holidays, but Justin thinks that this might be it. He is beginning to regret the third single. It was supposed to be the last, anyway. The Company calls it only a break, but the suits have never been big fans of closure.
Chris is already waiting when Justin arrives to the VIP lounge. There is no one else there.
”Had a good flight?” I missed you. Are you all right?
”Uh huh.” Justin knows that Chris knows that he is tired, so that is a one thing less to lie about. ”You are supposed to say that I look like shit.”
Chris gives him the eye. ”Not funny.” He turns to head for the car. No need to ask if Justin has extra luggage.
”You were supposed to say fuck you,” Justin continues to Chris’ receiving back. ”But now I’m supposed to say something about pod people,” Justin murmurs and hurries after him.
In their way to home Chris asks him about the Victoria’s Secret thing and how much gigs he has in his schedule. He asks about his mom. Justin tells that the lingerie thing was great and that his mother is well. He doesn’t tell about his career maybe possibly going indefinitely on hold.
The car’s heaters are on full blast and it makes Justin’s throat go dry and his eyes feel like there is sand in them. He doesn’t adjust the heaters. They talk about William Rask. Well, Justin talks about William Rask. Chris talks about his fake vintage clothesline. Really, Justin appreciates that Chris doesn’t talk about what he is obviously dying to ask. Justin plays with his seatbelt and watches the lights marking the road passing them by. Seeing deer eyes reflecting the car’s lights would now suit his mood, but there are no deer this close to the city.
When they finally arrive to the yard, Chris turns off the engine but he doesn’t make a motion to open the door. Instead, he turns to Justin. If pretending could be bottled, it still wouldn’t do because this was ready to be cut with a knife.
”Are we going to keep this up the whole night? Because I’m sure that we both have better things to do than this.”
This had been coming from the minute Chris stepped to the VIP lounge, but Justin isn’t giving up that easily. ”What are you saying?”
Chris leans to the steering wheel. He wants to bash his head to it but the resulting blaring of the horn would surely summon the guards that the selective gated community is crawling of.
”I’m saying that this is all going to shit. Do you want us to pretend that everything is great, just for tonight?”
”Yes. No. Chris! Let’s just, let’s just be. Is it too much to ask for one night? One night without anger, we drink beer or bake cookies like normal people.”
”No beer.”
”Then let’s bake the damn cookies!”
”Sure. Okay.” Chris read once a theory where there was a hippo in the living room. It must apply to cars, too. He would have a nice, normal evening with Justin, even if it would kill him. And if everything else failed, he could always pretend. Anything Justin wanted tonight, he would be damned not to give it.
Justin looks Chris suspiciously. ”There are only the two of us so anything you want to say, just throw it out. Or something.” Justin smirks. ”I have some excellent Chardonnay and lots of white walls and carpets for you to throw it. Hell, you can throw the glasses, too.”
”If it comes to that, don’t be so sure I wouldn’t do that.” They are in the same page now.
Justin and Chris are kissing friends. JC invented the word way back when. Kissing friends are friends who sometimes make out, just for fun. For Justin and Chris, it means friendship that will never go past the kissing, because. Just because.
Kissing friends, they say. What will always go unsaid is my life. My soul.
Justin’s house - the other house, the one just for him-, has been cleaned thoroughly. It smells like artificial pine and it feels warm and Christmassy even without the ornaments. Chris throws his bag to the hall floor and the old leather bag looks like a sacrilege on the pristine room.
”Do you know what feels most like Christmas here? The inhuman cleanness.” Chris still associates a freshly cleaned house to holidays because those where the only times when his home was scrubbed from floor to ceiling when he was a kid.
Justin continues straight to the kitchen from the door. Kitchen is homely and safe. It will probably be the room where they end up spending the whole evening.
”I get what you mean. I’m used to the inhuman cleanness, though. That’s called the cleaning service.” Justin looks around in his shiny kitchen and the artistic fruit bowl. ”And interior decorator and California Closets.”
Justin strips his outermost shirt. He is wearing three. It doesn’t escape from Chris who frowns.
”If you got a fever...”
”Give me a break! It’s warm in there!” They have been doing this a million times already and Justin really thought that Chris would give it a rest for the night.
”Okay, yes.” Chris has to admit that it really is warm. He rubs his hands together. ”So how about those cookies?”
Justin’s medicine cabinet is well stocked. Hell, he carries a cabinet worth of meds with him. Advin, Excedrin, Sudafed, Triaminic, says in the bottles. Zidovudine, Lamivudine, Efavirenz, says in the pills. Justin never carries the prescriptions with him.
They end up really making cookies, from scratch. The kitchen is more than adequately stocked with butter, eggs, baking flour and chocolate chips. Chris is piping frosting (I can’t believe that I’m doing this!), standing by the cupboard and leaning over his task when Justin comes and hugs him from behind. Chris lays his hands on the table. Justin mouths his neck and suddenly Chris feels like he could break to pieces.
”We are still doing that.” Please say that we are still doing that.
”Yes, of course.” Justin kisses his neck and then lets his hold get just loose enough for Chris to turn to face him.
”You su-” Chris starts, but he is silenced by the soft press of lips.
Their kiss is tentative and warm. Every time they forget just how it feels, they forget just enough for it to feel almost like it was the first time.
It’s perfect, them together, kissing by the kitchen counter. It has to be perfect, because it’s all they will have.
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