This is a bit of relief (if that is what it is called) after a long period of absence. Thanks to my he-men; Steve (on a peg! ;)) David, James, Candy (ooh, should that be She-Ra?), Liz (another She-Ra), Ry, Dawn (She-Ra), Benny, Denise (She-Ra), swaflyboy, and Jai.
Disclaimer; don't you people get it yet? I don't own, know or mean to imply anything about the one and only NSync. Justin is a free man, Justin is a free man!!! YAY! Go read and send in your chocolate coated emails!! (too much coffee) O_o
*************************************** *************************************** Something Like Justin Chapter Ten- Playing
I felt before I could see. The flesh beneath my fingers was warm, crumbled from sleep and resistant to my hesitant pressure. I blinked my eyes open, the granules of dry sleep irritating my eyeballs, causing me to remove my touches from the body beside me to wipe away at the discomfort in my tear ducts.
My plaything, lying so peacefully, so restfully at my side, part covered by my limp limbs and glistening wet on the curve of the pectoral where my drool had fell upon him. My plaything. I let my lazy eyes wander over his physicality, my devilish imagination using the still form to construct idle fantasies. My plaything. Curly- creased, caramel nipples, erect and blushing in the morning, stood proud puckish from the sweep of his chest.
What was I to do? I could feel a dull ache in my backside, a comforting nudging at my tailbone, which made me feel strangely satisfied with myself. I yawned soundlessly, scanning his morning skin with patient enthusiasm, and fear. What was I to do?
He had touched me, had moved inside of me. What was I to do? He had seen me naked, with my flaws, and now, I felt vulnerable and awkward. Yet still, fate forces me to face my fears...
"Morning." He grinned lazily at me, his eyes creased and crinkled with sleep.
"Morning..." I eventually managed to say as my throat moistened.
"Last night was great." I could feel his arm slid around my waist.
"Yeah...it was," I coughed lightly into my palm, "I'm gonna go get ready. We have to go soon."
The shower was cool on my skin as I stepped gingerly beneath its downpour. As far as my impatient ears would allow me to know, Ryan was motionless beyond the flimsy partition door. The water ran quickly over my skin, the coldness hardly registering as my brain boiled with deliberation.
I barely noticed the restrained whine of the door hinges, but I felt the wave of air as he stepped behind me, dragging his hands up my sides,
"I thought we'd save time..." He murmured, pressing his lips to my shoulder.
"I'm finished, so it's all yours." I said levelly and escaped his embrace.
The tumour of anxiety was already filling out my stomach, making my body feel heavy and tired as I dressed. The patter of the shower through the open door served as a sad, repetitive rhythm to my thoughts. I finished dressing and set about stalking over to the small diner to grab breakfast.
I located Joe, Steph and Hannah through the large plate glass window, arranged neatly around a small, circular table with their respective orders half eaten before them. I fell into the booth beside Joe and nonchalantly gazed at the laminated menu.
"Morning." Joe greeted brightly, onyx eyes flickering expectantly over my face.
"Morning." I replied stiffly, not allowing my eyes to be drawn away from the monotony of the printed surface before me, "You reckon the eggs are riddled with salmonella or what?"
The three looked morbidly down at three plates of half eaten scrambled eggs and shrugged.
"May as well make it four beds in the hospital," I chuckled dully and gave my order to a handy waitress, as she swept past playing with her plaits.
"You're in a capital mood this morning!" Steph laughed lightly, "What's got you so down?"
"Nowt." I responded calmly, drumming my fingers softly on the laminated tabletop.
"Ooh, Chris didn't get lucky last night." Hannah sang jovially.
"Just shut the fuck up." I smiled saccharinely and pulled the plate of food from the grip of the advancing waitress.
I ignored the wide eyes and grim mouths that viewed me as I assaulted my breakfast with knife and fork.
"We're going to have to get a move on if we are going to get to Orlando at a sensible hour." I dictated firmly after swallowing.
"Yeah...we still have quite a way to go..." Joe chimed in, voice catching distinctly in his throat as he saw Ryan's shadow advancing on the building.
"Joe, nothing's wrong." I assured in a hushed voice so only he would hear, "Don't give him any trouble."
Grumbling quietly and lashing an obscene amount of attention to his breakfast, his taut cheeks and dark eyes communicated his compliance to my request. The heavy, glazed door whined tunefully as Ryan entered the building. He shot us a movies star smile, all sparkling eyes and finest dental work, and negotiated the busy staff before planting himself onto a chair at my side.
"Hi." He feathered a short kiss on my cheek, his busy eyes scanning the patrons for any sign of his fame in that dusty place. There was none evident, so he felt safe.
"What do you fancy?" I gestured vaguely at the menu.
"Ooh, nothing, thanks." Movie star lips and teeth again, "Who's driving today?"
"Me!" Steph erupted, joyful to be in possession of her steering wheel once more.
"I can sleep then." Ryan grinned his arm snaking around my back. He gave a slight squeeze and I focused my tight-lipped attention on my food.
Endless. At least we were nearly to our destination. My skin prickled uncomfortably with heat and a clingy, discreet sweat confined in the few cubic metres of car with Ryan. The sides of my mouth were aching from making all those polite smiles in his direction when he talked to me, and making excuses of feeling tired, before dealing with the innuendo he supplied after each excuse.
As the lush humidity and heady clouds of Florida slowly bled into our conscious, my mind and stomach settled somewhat, blatantly aware of the encroaching destination. I felt its smothering arms encircle me with the sweet mixture of achievement and nervousness that the bursting city of Orlando held in store.
The maze of corridors forming the honeycomb structure of the hotel we were staying in provided a welcome sanctuary from Ryan's company, those persistent reminders of his touches each times his jacket brushed against my shirt, the swift breath escaping his lips evoking his kisses and the reflections of the strip lights in his pupils supplying a haunting memory of his drunken lust.
"Chris?"
The furred edge of her precise voice dragged me out of my musings.
"Emily. I didn't expect that you'd be here already." I knew that my haggard tones were uncharacteristic and left me emotionally naked before her.
"Well...you know, planes are generally quicker than clapped out old Buicks." She grinned broadly, the airline obviously having sat well with her current mood.
"Don't let Steph hear you say that..." I smiled wanly, "...she treats that car like a child."
"Maybe we should get the NSPCC on her."
I laughed lightly, finding that uncomfortable affliction residing in my throat when I seem to be breathless and hoarse.
"You okay?" She pulled fugitive, curled locks away from the frames of her glasses, "You seem tired."
"Yeah...I guess I am." I shrugged, "God knows how many miles we've travelled."
"You sure that it's just the journey?"
That moment seemed to slow to that unbelievable slow motion that you only see in the movies, or just before you die. This was an invitation, from an old friend, someone who I trusted greatly, but, recently, whose opinion sat largely out of my favour. Yet the uncertainty about my feelings towards Ryan, and the psychologically significant 'freakiness' of me not wanting to be near him were things that I needed to give an airing, preferably to someone who could either reassure me, or counsel me. And I love to talk about myself.
"No, it isn't just the journey." I bit my lip, "Have you got a few minutes?"
"Umm...maybe you should sleep before spilling your guts to me," Emily built the flood barriers quickly, "I'm guessing that whatever you want to say won't be helped by you being all ratty. Get some sleep, then tomorrow we can go out shopping for the birthday boy's present, and we can have a good chat all about you."
"Thanks Em." I smiled, the constant fingers pressing on my temples supporting her suggestion of sleep: in a bed with sheets that don't cause annoying friction, or are shared by someone else.
Once again, the honeycomb engulfed me as I made my way back to my non-descript door with its supposed status symbol of shiny brass numbers. I wanted a big glittery star stuck on there with my name scrawled elegantly through its centre, joined by the words, 'fuck off, I'm sleeping'.
Ryan and I had separate rooms in the hotel, Orlando being a fairly canny city, the chance of the well primed hotel staff sharing details of a shared room with a local rag was far too likely to even hint at an association, and it was the way it had been planned anyway. I was aware that this wouldn't stop Ryan looking in on me as it were, but if I was asleep then I couldn't answer the door.
The milky cool sheets greeted my body and I drifted slowly to a heavy sleep.
Whatever dreams I had were threadbare and easily forgotten once a soft rapping at the door dragged me completely from reverie. Debating sharply, and incoherently, with myself, I propelled my sluggish frame from the bedclothes and my crumbled eyes sought out a bathrobe to cover my nakedness.
My splintered consciousness did note the creamy blushing sunlight drowning the drudgery of my hotel room, smothering all surfaces with its burst yolk tint. Upon passing the indifference of the mirror, my messed hair, with its reluctant sheen, reminded me that I needed to devote some pained time on washing it.
The door stammered open at my efforts, revealing a bright ad chirpy Emily, all bounce and curls.
"Hi. Oh, you're not ready yet."
"No..." I yawned supremely for effect, "...Give me half an hour."
I swung the door shut in her face.
I wasn't sure how we found that place; a square of courtyard tucked behind and between some of the multi-storey commercial and residential crates guarding the streets of Orlando. The place was refreshingly without a theme, or a corporate identity, so the numerous other patrons were not sitting and musing over the ethnic calibre of their meals, nor complaining about the homogenisation of the globe.
A spattering of those succulent, fleshy leaved plant forms, along with those stunted palms, rustling their quills with the rush of the nearby traffic, graced the paved plain. The three walls enclosing the courtyard were painted a patchy off white up to around twelve feet high, from whence the rust red of the brickwork regained its freedom. The glare of the sorbet Sun bounded gaily from the broad, pale expanses enclosing us, and the few tubular metal and mesh tables.
"So..." Emily disinterestedly fingered the leather key fob I had impulsively bought Justin from a tacky gift shop. Embossed onto the flabby surface were the words 'Made in America', although the 'i' was replaced with a 'u'. On the reverse, stamped on in ink was the phrase 'made in Taiwan'.
"So." I mimicked childishly and played with my glass.
"What is it that's bothering you?" Emily said calmly, "'Cause I know that something is bothering you."
"Well..." I chewed on my neuroses, trying to categorize my feelings and fears, "It's a Ryan thing."
"Really?" She frowned, "I thought that things were good between you two."
"Umm...I guess that they are..." I faded off, looking away from her, only allowing my eyes to snap back to hers in an unbreakable stare when I announced softly, "We had sex."
I blushed immediately after I had said it. It was so immature, to say it like that, to remember it like that, but there was no other way I could enter into this without telling her it simply.
"Okay..." She grinned with that kind of superior wisdom of the experienced dealing with the fragile novice, "And it was good?"
Unsurprisingly, I spluttered a giggle, then affirmed,
"At the time, it was great. No complaints." I laughed again.
"But?"
"But, when I woke up this morning, it felt different."
Emily restrained a laugh.
"What felt different?"
"Oh, haha." I said dully, but grinning nonetheless, "I meant that I felt different towards Ryan."
"How?"
"Like, I dunno. I didn't want him around me."
"Hmm." Emily mused.
"I felt kind of used, or guilty...I don't know." I sighed, those confused mutterings in my head pushing and pulling away at my consciousness, my determination to stand higher than my own psyche.
"You like Ryan though, don't you?"
"Well, yeah." I said.
"With enthusiasm?"
"Yes, I do." Something was biting my lips and tongue as I said the words, tightening my throat and stinging my lungs.
"If you don't feel comfortable doing something, then you shouldn't do it." Emily said carefully, the words bounding off my earlobes, "You know that don't you Chris?"
"Yeah...I mean," I sighed and shrugged, "Maybe I'm just nervous, because it was a first for me, so I need to get over it."
"I'd suggest that you tell Ryan what you are worried about."
I knew that it was good advice. Well, good advice to sustain what Ryan and I had, whatever that was. Emily wanted us staying together because it kept me away from Justin. My mind was playing tricks on me. What did I want?
I took up the leather key ring from where Emily had deposited it on the painted surface of the table and held it firmly between my fingers, twisting the hot material and indulging in the clammy kisses it made on my skin.
A mild breeze crept through the courtyard, rustling the ruffs of leaves of the small plants, and ushering crinkling protests from the fabric of our collection of carrier bags. The lofty heights above us stood solidly on in the heat, a stray child's cry from an open apartment window ringing out around in the brief period of silence.
What was I to do?
End of Chapter Ten
It was short, I know, but I'm hoping the shorter, the sooner.
Email me and make me happy, goddamnit :)
Kris