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Jan. 20th, 2004 11:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
amfiguree[N'sync] [Justin/Chris] [PG]
improved with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kittykatz
once upon a forever; tough cookie; what the dickens are you doing?; destination anywhere
You used to say that Chris was a tough cookie. He never cracked, no matter what he did. And there was a certain sharp-edgedness to him that sliced into and beneath your skin, like he was making sure you never got too close. He covered all that up carefully, though, making sure it was hidden, with a carefully crafted facade.
It was almost beautiful, the way it made everything seem so tragic.
You thought you'd forgotten the slide of his warm hand against your own, till now. You hadn't seen him in more than a month, and there was a certain shift in the dynamic of your relationship when you finally met. It was subtle, but it was there, and you could tell by the way the wary glint in his eyes never disappeared, even when a grin broke out on his face, and he took your hand in an almost familiar grasp.
Once upon a forever, you would've known what to do. You would've known to let your lips flutter against the rough stubble on his chin, to press your head into the crook of his shoulder, to slide your arms around him, to let him know you were there.
But somewhere in between recording, meeting new artistes, writing your own songs, and putting out your solo record, you'd forgotten. And you could tell he knew. The gleam in his eyes never faded, and you wondered if there was any way to salvage this now -- any of this. All of this. You didn't think you'd ever find the answer.
"What the dickens are you doing, boy?" there was a crude accent in the strange, alien voice, and you realized too late that it was only because you were in the UK, and you really had no idea what you were doing, or why you were here, or why any of this was happening. You realized too late that you may have lost Chris.
He wasn't there when you looked, and it amazed you how you could have forgotten the way he knows crowds, the way he could glide through them like water running with the current. But then you burst out of the doors, and he stood waiting, a small smile on his face and ice in his eyes. "Where do you want to go?"
"Destination anywhere." You replied, letting an unfiltered, unrestrained smile stain your lips, even though answers weren't really Chris was looking for at all. And when you climbed onto the motorcycle, awkwardly hooking your ankles over his, you curled your hands against his chest, listening to the thrum-thud-hum of his heartbeat, and hoped that maybe you could learn to remember all this again.
-fin-
improved with
kittykatzonce upon a forever; tough cookie; what the dickens are you doing?; destination anywhere
You used to say that Chris was a tough cookie. He never cracked, no matter what he did. And there was a certain sharp-edgedness to him that sliced into and beneath your skin, like he was making sure you never got too close. He covered all that up carefully, though, making sure it was hidden, with a carefully crafted facade.
It was almost beautiful, the way it made everything seem so tragic.
You thought you'd forgotten the slide of his warm hand against your own, till now. You hadn't seen him in more than a month, and there was a certain shift in the dynamic of your relationship when you finally met. It was subtle, but it was there, and you could tell by the way the wary glint in his eyes never disappeared, even when a grin broke out on his face, and he took your hand in an almost familiar grasp.
Once upon a forever, you would've known what to do. You would've known to let your lips flutter against the rough stubble on his chin, to press your head into the crook of his shoulder, to slide your arms around him, to let him know you were there.
But somewhere in between recording, meeting new artistes, writing your own songs, and putting out your solo record, you'd forgotten. And you could tell he knew. The gleam in his eyes never faded, and you wondered if there was any way to salvage this now -- any of this. All of this. You didn't think you'd ever find the answer.
"What the dickens are you doing, boy?" there was a crude accent in the strange, alien voice, and you realized too late that it was only because you were in the UK, and you really had no idea what you were doing, or why you were here, or why any of this was happening. You realized too late that you may have lost Chris.
He wasn't there when you looked, and it amazed you how you could have forgotten the way he knows crowds, the way he could glide through them like water running with the current. But then you burst out of the doors, and he stood waiting, a small smile on his face and ice in his eyes. "Where do you want to go?"
"Destination anywhere." You replied, letting an unfiltered, unrestrained smile stain your lips, even though answers weren't really Chris was looking for at all. And when you climbed onto the motorcycle, awkwardly hooking your ankles over his, you curled your hands against his chest, listening to the thrum-thud-hum of his heartbeat, and hoped that maybe you could learn to remember all this again.
-fin-
