So of course I finished the project this morning. So contrary.
A remix, because JC seems to get the short end too often in my fic.
Then there was the time JC was getting ready to head out for the night, deciding between the pink shirt and the silver, wondering if the chick with the long legs was going to show up again. Probably she would. He was drawing lines down the center of the pink shirt with a fingertip, thinking about it, when the suite door opened.
"Hey, JC," Chris said, glancing at the shirts and wrinkling his nose.
Chris drew in a deep breath. "So, I have a theory," he said, and stopped, frowning.
"Uh huh. Chris, I have to -"
"So, my theory is this."
And Chris was suddenly right there in front of him, a determined look on his face. JC jerked back, waiting for the headbutt or the "seafood" or maybe even the pepper spray, you never knew, but Chris got him in a tight clinch before he could squirm away. "Chris!" JC protested, but Chris muttered "Just let me," and put his mouth on JC's, and the sudden shock of Chris's warm lips stopped JC dead in his tracks. Chris was kissing him.
And then Chris was letting him go, just as JC thought about closing his eyes. "Okay, that's good," Chris said, "Thanks!" and he was out the door just like that. JC looked around the quiet room. The shirts were crumpled on the floor.
Chris grinned at him when he stumbled a bit climbing into the limo.
"Hi, JC. Nice shirt! Is that –"
"Thanks," JC interrupted loudly, squeezing in between him and Justin, who scooted over with an aggrieved sigh. "Isn't it great? I figured it was something you'd like. All shiny."
"Tinfoil," Chris finished weakly, and shut up, and stayed shut up, even when Justin said, "Bwah!" and Lance smirked down at his hands. He didn't say another word during the entire ride, not even when Joey kicked him five times in a row.
The chick with the legs was there, and Chris glared at her the whole night, and it was just about the most fun JC had had in a long time.