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May. 9th, 2009 12:57 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
why_me_why_notOkay, so I still stand by my claim that I don't write popslash. But I'm reorganizing my fic and figured I'd put these out on my LJ as well, just so I know where they are. I totally blame ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
phaballa for this, btw.
DISCLAIMER: Not mine, no harm intended.
Phonography
Popslash, Britney/JC || Teen || 622 words
For all his flightiness and bouts of random, JC was good at keeping her grounded.
It started with late night phone calls when she needed someone to talk to, someone who would listen and not judge. For all his flightiness and bouts of random, JC was good at keeping her grounded. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, just that she had spoke to him for hours every night for a while now, and she wasn’t as surprised as she maybe should have been when she said yes in response to the question of whether there was anyone special in her life.
“Really?” JC asked that night. “You didn’t tell me you were seeing anyone.”
“Talking to someone, to be more accurate.” She smiled at the confusion in his voice. “This guy I’ve known forever and have just realized may be more important to me than I gave him credit for.”
“You implied that you were in a relationship, Brit. Are we… is that what we’re doing here?”
She shrugged, even knowing he couldn’t see her through the phone. It was a little strange, to be thinking about a relationship with someone she hadn’t even seen in months, but JC knew what she ate for dinner last night and she could guess what color socks he was wearing right then and it’d been a while since she had someone to share those minute, pointless details with. What she said, though, was, “You don't make sense, I don't make sense, together, we make sense.”
JC was quiet for a moment. “Are you misquoting 90s movies at me?”
“Only slightly.”
Their conversations didn’t change so much after that other than the way they drop random quotes into them to see if the other one can catch them. She thought about maybe asking him to come out to a show, even though she knew he was busy, but for all that she’d come to depend on him being there, she didn’t know how far she actually wanted that to go.
Then one night there were a couple of voice mails waiting on her – she’d let the dancers talk her into going out with them after the show and missed JC’s call – and she almost felt guilty until she listened to them. The first one was awkward, JC sounding a little drunk and a lot hesitant as he said he’d been thinking about her. The second one sounded like he was a little less inhibited, even if the words were still a bit rushed. “We're not so different, you and me, 'Cause we both share our share of obscenities, And everybody's got some freaky tendencies, Hidden or admitted, 'Cause we all got needs.”
She hung up the phone and stared at it for a minute before shoving it under her pillow so she didn’t call him back. She really didn’t want to fuck this up, this friendship they had going, but if she’d learned anything it was that sex was a good way to fuck everything up.
Her dreams that night were surprising, dreams of touching herself with JC’s voice in her ear, and she had come to a decision before she even fully woke up. Phone sex was safer, less complicated than face-to-face sex. She ignored the little voice that added, Plus, it’s a start. The next day she waited to call until she knew JC was going to be busy.
“I lose my mind just when you're speaking, I see you on the screen, I get to freaking. So, get down, babe, and I'll get down for you. I get so excited when I'm watching, boy, I can't wait to see you touch your body, boy. It's just me and you, so we can do what we gotta do. … So, I’ve got a webcam. Call me later.”
Staying In
Popslash, Chris/Lance || Teen || 675 words
No one but Chris was allowed to make Lance cry. (dude, don't even ask where this came from or where it was going, b/c idek.)
“What the fuck are you watching, Bass?”
Lance shifted a little to glance at Chris and turned his attention immediately back to the television, but the movement wasn’t quick enough to miss his red-rimmed eyes. Now, Chris might not know everything, but he knew there was something not entirely right about Lance lying in their shared room, watching German infomercials, and crying. Dammit. No one but Chris was allowed to make Lance cry.
Chris sat down on the edge of the bed where Lance was stretched out on his stomach, pillow bunched up under his head, and laid his hand on Lance’s back.
“What’s wrong, Lancey-pants? Some girl at the club tonight break your heart?”
Lance shook his head slightly. No.
"Some boy at the club tonight break your heart?”
That earned him a burst of muffled laughter and Lance finally looked at him. “No one broke my heart. I didn’t go out.”
“Why not? I thought you and J were all excited about it?”
“Justin was excited about it, about Joey and JC thinking he’s old enough to go out with them. I just… I couldn’t make myself go out dancing with them, especially after Justin…”
Chris waited a moment for Lance to finish, even though he could guess. They all gave Lance a hard time about his lack of dancing abilities, but Justin’s teasing tended to have a malicious edge to it. “After Justin what?” he prompted.
Lance sighed and shook his head. “Maybe it’s a mistake for me to be here. Maybe yall should’ve picked someone else.”
“Maybe, but we picked you. And I’ve finally got you trained to make a perfect cup of coffee, and I really don’t want to have to go through months of breaking in someone new, so you’re stuck here whether you like it or not.”
“You know I like it. You know I love being with you guys, being part of your group. But… sometimes I just feel like I’m making yall look bad.”
“Of course you make us look bad! You’re definitely hotter than the rest of us!”
“Chris.” Lance rolled over onto his side so he was facing Chris. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
Chris watched him silently. He wanted to make a smartass remark and go on, but if this was serious enough to make Lance honestly doubt himself, to make him cry, then it deserved serious attention.
“Lance. You overthink this, man. We’re not gonna trade you in just because you can’t pick up the steps as instantly or as easily as Justin and JC – who, I might add, have been doing this a long time. If you weren’t so worried about it, it wouldn’t be so hard. I know you can dance. We just need to figure out how to convince yourself.”
“That’s easy for you to say, since everything you do is inherently sexy.” Lance’s reply was soft and he was looking at the bedspread rather than at Chris.
“Bass, we need to work on your confidence. You are most definitely sexier than I am. Don’t you notice all those hot chicks with the signs that say things like ‘I heart Lance’ or ‘Lance is HOTT’ – with capital letters and two T’s – or ‘I want Lance in my pants’?”
Lance laughed. “Dude, there are no signs that say that!”
“There should be! It rhymes! It’s catchy; maybe I’ll make up my own sign and pass if off to one of the fans at our next show…”
“Chris!”
“Seriously, man, you have fans. You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”
“Well, I mostly just notice you.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Lance’s eyes widened dramatically, like he hadn’t meant to say that out loud, and it would have been funny if Chris hadn’t been sure Lance wanted to take them back.
He wanted to laugh it off – “You really do think I’m sexy, huh?” or “It’s hard to keep your eyes off the Great Kirkpatrick bod, isn’t it?” – but he didn’t think Lance would appreciate it.
phaballa for this, btw. DISCLAIMER: Not mine, no harm intended.
Phonography
Popslash, Britney/JC || Teen || 622 words
For all his flightiness and bouts of random, JC was good at keeping her grounded.
It started with late night phone calls when she needed someone to talk to, someone who would listen and not judge. For all his flightiness and bouts of random, JC was good at keeping her grounded. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, just that she had spoke to him for hours every night for a while now, and she wasn’t as surprised as she maybe should have been when she said yes in response to the question of whether there was anyone special in her life.
“Really?” JC asked that night. “You didn’t tell me you were seeing anyone.”
“Talking to someone, to be more accurate.” She smiled at the confusion in his voice. “This guy I’ve known forever and have just realized may be more important to me than I gave him credit for.”
“You implied that you were in a relationship, Brit. Are we… is that what we’re doing here?”
She shrugged, even knowing he couldn’t see her through the phone. It was a little strange, to be thinking about a relationship with someone she hadn’t even seen in months, but JC knew what she ate for dinner last night and she could guess what color socks he was wearing right then and it’d been a while since she had someone to share those minute, pointless details with. What she said, though, was, “You don't make sense, I don't make sense, together, we make sense.”
JC was quiet for a moment. “Are you misquoting 90s movies at me?”
“Only slightly.”
Their conversations didn’t change so much after that other than the way they drop random quotes into them to see if the other one can catch them. She thought about maybe asking him to come out to a show, even though she knew he was busy, but for all that she’d come to depend on him being there, she didn’t know how far she actually wanted that to go.
Then one night there were a couple of voice mails waiting on her – she’d let the dancers talk her into going out with them after the show and missed JC’s call – and she almost felt guilty until she listened to them. The first one was awkward, JC sounding a little drunk and a lot hesitant as he said he’d been thinking about her. The second one sounded like he was a little less inhibited, even if the words were still a bit rushed. “We're not so different, you and me, 'Cause we both share our share of obscenities, And everybody's got some freaky tendencies, Hidden or admitted, 'Cause we all got needs.”
She hung up the phone and stared at it for a minute before shoving it under her pillow so she didn’t call him back. She really didn’t want to fuck this up, this friendship they had going, but if she’d learned anything it was that sex was a good way to fuck everything up.
Her dreams that night were surprising, dreams of touching herself with JC’s voice in her ear, and she had come to a decision before she even fully woke up. Phone sex was safer, less complicated than face-to-face sex. She ignored the little voice that added, Plus, it’s a start. The next day she waited to call until she knew JC was going to be busy.
“I lose my mind just when you're speaking, I see you on the screen, I get to freaking. So, get down, babe, and I'll get down for you. I get so excited when I'm watching, boy, I can't wait to see you touch your body, boy. It's just me and you, so we can do what we gotta do. … So, I’ve got a webcam. Call me later.”
Staying In
Popslash, Chris/Lance || Teen || 675 words
No one but Chris was allowed to make Lance cry. (dude, don't even ask where this came from or where it was going, b/c idek.)
“What the fuck are you watching, Bass?”
Lance shifted a little to glance at Chris and turned his attention immediately back to the television, but the movement wasn’t quick enough to miss his red-rimmed eyes. Now, Chris might not know everything, but he knew there was something not entirely right about Lance lying in their shared room, watching German infomercials, and crying. Dammit. No one but Chris was allowed to make Lance cry.
Chris sat down on the edge of the bed where Lance was stretched out on his stomach, pillow bunched up under his head, and laid his hand on Lance’s back.
“What’s wrong, Lancey-pants? Some girl at the club tonight break your heart?”
Lance shook his head slightly. No.
"Some boy at the club tonight break your heart?”
That earned him a burst of muffled laughter and Lance finally looked at him. “No one broke my heart. I didn’t go out.”
“Why not? I thought you and J were all excited about it?”
“Justin was excited about it, about Joey and JC thinking he’s old enough to go out with them. I just… I couldn’t make myself go out dancing with them, especially after Justin…”
Chris waited a moment for Lance to finish, even though he could guess. They all gave Lance a hard time about his lack of dancing abilities, but Justin’s teasing tended to have a malicious edge to it. “After Justin what?” he prompted.
Lance sighed and shook his head. “Maybe it’s a mistake for me to be here. Maybe yall should’ve picked someone else.”
“Maybe, but we picked you. And I’ve finally got you trained to make a perfect cup of coffee, and I really don’t want to have to go through months of breaking in someone new, so you’re stuck here whether you like it or not.”
“You know I like it. You know I love being with you guys, being part of your group. But… sometimes I just feel like I’m making yall look bad.”
“Of course you make us look bad! You’re definitely hotter than the rest of us!”
“Chris.” Lance rolled over onto his side so he was facing Chris. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
Chris watched him silently. He wanted to make a smartass remark and go on, but if this was serious enough to make Lance honestly doubt himself, to make him cry, then it deserved serious attention.
“Lance. You overthink this, man. We’re not gonna trade you in just because you can’t pick up the steps as instantly or as easily as Justin and JC – who, I might add, have been doing this a long time. If you weren’t so worried about it, it wouldn’t be so hard. I know you can dance. We just need to figure out how to convince yourself.”
“That’s easy for you to say, since everything you do is inherently sexy.” Lance’s reply was soft and he was looking at the bedspread rather than at Chris.
“Bass, we need to work on your confidence. You are most definitely sexier than I am. Don’t you notice all those hot chicks with the signs that say things like ‘I heart Lance’ or ‘Lance is HOTT’ – with capital letters and two T’s – or ‘I want Lance in my pants’?”
Lance laughed. “Dude, there are no signs that say that!”
“There should be! It rhymes! It’s catchy; maybe I’ll make up my own sign and pass if off to one of the fans at our next show…”
“Chris!”
“Seriously, man, you have fans. You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”
“Well, I mostly just notice you.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Lance’s eyes widened dramatically, like he hadn’t meant to say that out loud, and it would have been funny if Chris hadn’t been sure Lance wanted to take them back.
He wanted to laugh it off – “You really do think I’m sexy, huh?” or “It’s hard to keep your eyes off the Great Kirkpatrick bod, isn’t it?” – but he didn’t think Lance would appreciate it.
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no subject
Date: 2009-05-09 03:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-10 06:02 am (UTC)