// TrickC //

There's no way this will ever work, Chris thinks, watching JC. No way in hell.

JC's too serious, too intense. And Chris?

Chris just isn't.

***

Right from the start, there'd been something about the quiet, skinny kid that'd gotten Chris' attention. He'd stood there watching, waiting until Chris had finished talking, and then he'd introduced himself.

"JC Chasez," he'd said quietly, "well, it's really Joshua, but no-one calls me that. Except for my mom. So, uh. It's JC. You can call me JC." And he'd blushed a little then, head tilting downwards for just a second-- long enough for Chris to notice long, dark spidery lashes framing eyes that were blue and clear and unlike anything Chris had ever seen before.

"Chris," he'd said, taking the skinny kid's hand in his own. "But you can call me Chris."

"Chris." He'd smiled then-- his eyes somehow crinkling at the corners and his whole face lighting up. "Ok."

There'd been a moment-- just a moment-- when he'd hesitated, and Chris had seen something flicker across his face. Something he'd recognised from within himself.

"So, um." JC had paused, lower lip caught between his teeth as he looked up at Chris. "Is this going to work out?"

Chris had smiled back, heart suddenly racing tripletime in his chest. "Yeah," he'd said softly, "yeah, JC. I really think it is."

And Chris had watched JC's fingers as he brushed his hair back from his eyes, and wondered if they'd be warm and soft if they were to ever touch his skin.

***

"It's probably not a good idea," Chris murmurs against JC's neck, and it's warm and damp and he tastes salt where his lips brush, "--and maybe we shouldn't-- "

"No, maybe we shouldn't." JC's breath is hot and secret, smells like the beer they've been drinking, and Chris can feel it slip under his skin, wrap around his veins, flow through him thickly like melting honey. "But we're going to, right?"

Chris nods, and suddenly JC's fingers are wrapped in his hair, pulling him closer. JC's thigh slips between his legs, he's there, right there, and his mouth is opening underneath Chris' like an invitation.

The one Chris has been waiting for all along.

***

"Can't be too many places left we haven't been," Chris says one day when it's all too much and a moving bus feels more like a prison than anything else he can think of.

JC looks at him, his gaze unwavering even as the bus rocks gently from side to side.

"There's a whole world you've never even seen yet," he says quietly, those blue eyes clear and steady and Chris can feel them licking flames into his skin.

"There is?" he asks, and then JC is right there beside him, lips ghosting across his collarbone, fingers warm against his jaw, tilting it just so.

"Yeah," breathes JC, "There really is."

And when his tongue slips inside Chris' mouth, Chris knows that he's right.

***

Kissing JC is like coming home.

He tastes of coffee, dark and sweet against Chris' tongue, and his lips are warm and soft and wet. Sometimes, JC bites-- the sudden sting of teeth into flesh leaves Chris gasping into eyes dancing with silent laughter.

And then there're the times when the kisses turn into something more. Something slow and lazy and perfect, and Chris' head spins as if he's lost in a dream. JC all around him-- on his tongue, moving inside him, against him-- and he's drawing sound from Chris with his mouth and teeth and lips. Pure, high notes that drift on the air around them, written in breath and heat and light.

"Just like music," Chris whispers, feeling JC's pulse fluttering under his fingertips, his skin slick and damp where it touches his. "You're always in my head just like music."

***

Chris knows it never should have worked. But somehow, when he wasn't looking, it did.

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