ext_1586 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
ephemera-pop.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
popslash_lollipops2006-07-17 11:22 pm
ephemera-pop.livejournal.com) wrote in popslash_lollipops2006-07-17 11:22 pm
Entry tags:
Justin / Chris
In the wake of his recent Observer interview, I find myself wanting to read stoned Justin, hanging out with Chris ( and maybe talking about someone / several someone elses, in a sexual context.) Please and thank you
no subject
a littlereally late, and i've never read the observer interview, so i'm not sure this is what you were going for, but... *crosses fingers* happy new year?Stoned Justin, Chris thought, was nothing like sober Justin. Hell, he was nothing like stoned Chris. He was all soft, and happy, and lying boneless on the couch beside Chris. Everything was one big ball of hilarious… things, and all the crappy stuff that happened wasn’t worth thinking about. But everything became sharper in Chris’ head, once he’d had a line or two of Coke. Not the physical stuff, though, but like, the emotional stuff? That tended to rise to the surface somewhat. Probably why Chris hadn’t shared weed with Justin in years.
“Like, y’know. It’s a party, right? So, like, they’re all stoned as hell, man,” Justin laughed, and Chris snapped back to attention. Sort of. It wasn’t Justin’s usual laugh, Chris found himself thinking, giddily. It was louder or something. More like a bray than his normal, practiced, throaty, kind-of-sexy interview chuckles. Also, he tended to babble. As if to prove Chris’ point, Justin waved his hands then and went on talking. “I mean, like, they were so fucking gone, right? Kind of – sorta like we are now. Y’know?”
Chris nodded. And Justin brayed again, and tipped his head against Chris’ shoulder. “So we’re talking about people we’d like to screw, right?” Justin said, and Chris nodded again. He would be pissed off, he thought, if he wasn’t as high as a fucking kite right now. Jesus, being a megastar seriously had its perks. Where did Justin get his weed from?
“So,” Justin was saying, when Chris’ attention drifted back to him after five minutes of analyzing the pretty colors of the walls. “I said, like, Cameron. Duh. And they were all, that doesn’t count. You’ve already had her.”
Chris looked at Justin, then, and his eyes were a little more glazed over, like he was remembering something really, really good. Or really, really hot. Possibly both. “Was she any good?”
“What, in bed?” Justin asked. He made a low, quiet noise at the back of his throat when Chris nodded, and Chris watched as he shut his eyes. Oh. Apparently the look Justin got when he was having intimate sexual fantasies didn’t change after a couple of lines of Coke. Justin made that noise again, and the room spun. Okay. Maybe the heat in his stomach was an aftereffect of the drugs. “Yeah,” Justin breathed, eventually. He sprawled out more comfortably on the couch, one of his (huge) hands draping across Chris’ side. “Oh, yeah.”
Justin’s wrist was warm against his own. Chris wondered what the rest of him felt like. “Well,” he prompted, when Justin didn’t go on, and the silence made his drug-addled brain think of strange, forbidden things that he’d thought he’d been able to quash years ago. “Tell me.”
Justin didn’t seem fazed by the question, not like he usually would be. “I dunno,” he slurred, and then clapped his free hand over his mouth like he’d said something wrong. Chris batted it away. “Okay, like. Britney was good, man. You know? Like,” Justin’s jaw went slack at the memory. “Like, fuck, yeah. Like, we had no idea what we were doing and she was still fucking amazing.”
Oh, Chris thought, watching the lazy curve of Justin’s smile and the want that darkened his eyes. He shifted a little, almost awkwardly, but that just made his shirt ride up a little, and Justin’s fingerpads were there, soft and smooth and warm, on his stomach. Oh man, the drugs were making Chris really, really happy – although discussing girls didn’t usually do that to him, high or otherwise. He shifted some more.
part 2
Chris’ throat was dry. Was Justin really comparing fucking Jessica Biel to a guy?
“But Cameron,” Justin sighed, and he turned his face so his cheek was pressed against the couch and he was looking right at Chris. “Man, Cameron fucked like – like a pro, y’know?” His eyes slipped shut, and for a second, so did Chris’. “Like, she always wanted sex. Or maybe it was me, but like, she was fucking, just, like, out of this world, man.” Justin’s cheeks were flushed. “I mean, like, she let me put my fingers in her mouth, y’know? When I was – when we were, like, screwing.”
Justin paused for a second, and Chris must’ve been wearing his heart on his sleeve because Justin started to grin, and he crooked a finger at Chris. “C’mere,” Justin said. Chris raised an eyebrow. What? No. “C’mere,” Justin insisted, rolling his eyes – or attempting to, at least – when Chris refused. “I’m not explaining this right, man. C’mere. I mean, you – I gotta show you this.”
No, no, Chris wanted to protest. No, you really don’t. But drugged up on Coke or not, Justin was about twice Chris’ size, and probably four times stronger. So when he hauled Chris down on top of him, when he lifted a slow, teasing hand up under Chris’ shirt, when he leaned up and traced Chris’ lower lip with his tongue, when he pressed two dry, tempting fingers to where his tongue had just been, Chris really didn’t have much say in any of it.
He didn’t have much say in what followed, either.
But later, when he was sprawled out on top of Justin, fully clothed except for where his jeans had been jerked down around his knees, he wondered if he’d made things too easy. “So the party,” he said, because he was Chris and he didn’t want to think about this. “Cameron didn’t count, right? So who did you say?”
Justin raised an eyebrow as he raked his eyes over Chris. And Chris thought, oh, well, duh, before tilting his head and licking Justin’s fingers one last time. Justin shivered, then brayed a loud laugh, and Chris felt the slow rumble spread throughout his chest.
Jesus, he needed to buy Justin more weed.
Re: part 2
I am now dead of the hot.
Jeeeeebus!
Re: part 2
also, happy new year!
Re: part 2
Re: part 2
Re: part 2
Re: part 2