The Touch, The Feel
by TimberTrickGrrl

Saying Selected:
11. Do not start with me. You will not win.

~*~

Justin flicked his blue eyes up from the newspaper briefly

"What is it this time?"

Chris shrugged, his forehead absolutely bent in concentration. "I can't find it."

"Find what?"

"The shirt."

"Which shirt?"

Chris let a tinge of a scowl crawl across his face. "The shirt I was going to wear."

Sigh. "A little more specific CK, you only own a thousand T-shirts."

"You know, my new one."

"The white one that says 'Huh' on it?" Justin grinned brightly, "I love that one."

"No, no, it's black with white letters, and no, it's not the stunning 'Dump Him' shirt either." Chris' brown eyes sparked evilly.

Justin smirked, "Hmm, would have been more effective if I actually gave a shit."

"I know."

"But you're an asshole regardless."

Smile. "I know, J, but I find irrepressible delight in pushing yer buttons." He ruffled Justin's darkened almost-curls and continued down the hallway, whistling aloud and calling for the shirt

"Hey Chris! Hey, here's one that says 'Ask Your Mom Who I Am'—is that it?" Justin tossed shirt after shirt aside, laughing quietly as he read the bizarre quips and insults. "Or how about 'But the Real Question is: How Drunk Are You?'."

"No Jup, it's like, brand new—dumb ass, you're the one who fuckin' sent it to me." He rolled his eyes at Justin's faltered memory

"Honestly man, you have too many."

"It's from you honey, that makes it my new obsession," Chris squinted and pressed his lips into a flat line. "Find it for me."

"Oh, wait, I think I saw that...." Justin's voiced trailed away as he made his way down the hall and into the bedroom, scrounging around by the clothes hamper, mentally kicking himself for being a slouch and not getting his laundry done. "I am not a slob, not a slob," he whispered, then grinned triumphantly when he clasped the sought-after cotton shirt in his fist.

"Ahem." Chris stood in the doorway, one eyebrow raised expectantly, his arms crossed loosely, such the picture of irritated patience. "You wore my shirt, J?"

"Well, yeah, I like it," Justin smirked, "Why? Aren't I allowed?"

Chris stood silently, his gaze never wavering from Justin's hand to his earnest blue eyes.

"Besides, it smelled like you, and I like that."

"Mmm hmm."

"Makes me feel calm, and... never alone."

"Mmm hmm...."

A warm hand wrapped around his wrist. "And it reminds me of what I'm missing, who I always hurry back home to."

Chris smiled and shook his head, moving his hand from Justin's wrist to brush down his arm, "Ju, you big dork, you sound like a really bad Danielle Steele heroine."

Justin leaned back and actually guffawed, making Chris laugh loudly in spite of himself. He dodged to the side when Justin threw the shirt at him, watching as the younger man sat on the edge of the bed, bouncing slightly

"So, you excited about the club things?"

He shrugged, scrabbling a hand through his thick hair, "Yeah, a little I suppose, but I am so ready for Europe, I can't wait man."

Chris nodded half-heartedly, "Yep, even though it is going to be raining and frigid."

"I love the cold man, you know that!" His blue eyes looked like ice chips, and Chris wondered briefly why he never realized that before, how he'd never known why he was always the one melting under ice

"Uhh, yeah."

Justin curved a lewd tilt into his mouth, "Hmm, your mind is working, that's almost cause for alarm."

"Thinkin' about ice."

"That's weird, I was just thinking about fire." He stared intently into Chris' eyes. "But like I was saying, you can come over anytime, I told you before, my Europa is your Europa."

"I know Ju, and we're definitely still on for Christmas week."

"Of course, as always," he softened a little, something like a sigh floating toward Chris. "As ever."

"I know, I just miss you.... I guess I'm just getting nostalgic for it to be 'us' out on the road, tramping the untamed wilderness together, you know?"

The young man leaned back on the bed, his elbows making small satin dimples in the dark Sea Blue comforter. "You're not fooling me for a minute CK, I know what you miss and it has nothing to do with gigs and fan dates."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really."

Chris snorted and wore a bored expression, all the while his eyes crept down Justin's body and images flashed a memory-per-second through his mind, making it a little harder to concentrate on Justin's voice, harder to breathe

Harder

"Yeah, you miss wild, jungle bunk-sex, those crazy breathless backstage monkey love marathons, and of course, who can forget the pleasure of sound-check blowjobs baby... to name a few things."

He was grinning playfully, then sat bouncing, jaw etched open slightly, head tilted down just so-so, his eyes locked on Chris

"Well, yeah, a few of the perks of dating your bandmate, I suppose...."

"Umm, dating, yeah...."

"Being in love with... adoring... worshipping, is that better?"

"Yes, just don't cast any statues of me or anything."

Scoff. "Right, J."

"Welllllll, soooo, who says you have to keep missing all of that shit? You were with me during some Justified dates, you know Europe will be just as good for us... maybe better...."

Chris pressed his palms together and pursed his lips, resting his chin in prayer-like concentration. "Hmm, are we talking gourmet Euro debauchery? "

"Uh huh, you know I can't resist you."

"Yeah, with this hard body... especially in my dead sexy 'come hither' togs." He pulled the shirt over his head, smoothing it slowly and importantly, tracing the letters.

Do Not Start With Me, You Will Not Win.

"I like that shirt, it's so you," Justin's voice was low, almost inaudible

"Yes, well, it smells like you now, I hope you're happy." He tried to remain indignant, but his mouth curled into a smile of its own accord and he huffed quietly. "I like that."

"But it's kind of untrue."

"What is?"

"The shirt, I mean, I start shit with you all the time, and I win."

Chris seemed astonished, then almost pitying, "No you don't Ju."

"Fuck you Chris, I do so, I start shit with you all the time—"

"I know babe," Chris interrupted him with two fingers pressed against his lips, softly, "but you only think you win."

"And how's that?"

"Simple, the winner is always the one on top." Chris nodded emphatically—case closed.

Justin threw his head back and laughed, growing louder when Chris tickled his side.

"Okay Chris, let me get this right. Even when I am pounding and grinding like hell into you and you're gasping and panting like a teenage girl, I have to remember that you're the winner, and I am the loser... correct?"

"Yep," Chris winked and leaned down over him, skimming Justin's jaw line with feather-light kisses, "even on the rarest of occasions when I am crawling around, cooing and sighing like your personal bitch, you cannot win—ever!"

Justin kissed him harshly then squinted up at him, finally acquiescing with a sigh, "I don't care man, if that's the case, you make losing delicious."

"Well J, if you promise not to tell anyone, I may call a truce sometimes, make it an even match, just to shake things up a bit."

"Of course, stagnation is the leading cause of deterioration in an otherwise strong and fulfilling long-term relationship."

"Umm, yeah...."

"In short, you keep it missionary, it leads to goodbye babe."

Chris chuckled and drew Justin toward him, kissing him gently, then with almost bruising fervor. He kept inhaling Justin's cologne from his shirt and it made him peaceful and prickling at the same time.

"Why don't you try to start something, see how it comes out."

"I don't know Christopher, I might win."

"Ohh no, I wouldn't want that, now would I?"

He sprawled heavily on top of Justin, breathing deeply and kissing him lazily, moaning softly as a warm hand crept into the back of his boxers

"Are you starting, Juju Bean?" he whispered, feeling Justin chuckle beneath him

"Yeah, I am, now get our shirt off!"

"Our shirt?" Chris cocked an eyebrow, peeling the shirt over his head and tossing it backward to Justin's hamper, then laughing as he looked over his shoulder

"What is it?" Justin raised up slightly, biting Chris' collarbone and nuzzling his throat. "Mmm, come on."

"Look at how the fucking thing landed, Jubee."

Justin looked over the older man's shoulder, groaning when he saw the shirt had crumpled down to read "You Win" in bold white on black clarity.

Chris pushed him back and dropped kisses along his stomach, grunting a little when Justin slid his boxer-briefs down, then off, his hands warm across Chris' chest, his back

"Hey, you think that's a sign of greater things to come?" He relaxed as Chris slid one hand between his thighs, soft and rough

Smirk. "Of course honey, it's great when you come."

Scold. "Chris, come on."

"I don't know J, do you want to pause and pray about it?" He stifled a smile at Justin's wide eyes. "It's only a token of encouragement, I used my Magic to wield it that way."

"Your super powers?"

"Yes, and stop looking at me that way, I have amazing powers, and you know it."

"I know, you can make people disappear simply by opening your mouth." Justin wrinkled his nose and almost rocked with laughter at Chris' squinty shell-shocked expression. "It's almost an art."

"You're an asshole Ju." He shook his head, but couldn't keep a sly smile from tugging at his lips. "This is why you never win."

He pulled Justin against him and sucked harshly on his earlobe, urging his long muscular legs to open wider, his own pulse quickening as the younger man whimpered and writhed under his hand

"I guess you were right, you're on top CK...." Justin's voice was gravelly, desert parched against Chris' neck as he licked, sucked, grinned and nipped. "I really don't mind though...."

Chris' hand paused. "You know I don't really think that... ever...."

Justin leaned back and looked at him, swollen lips and confused eyes. "What?"

"That you're a loser.... I have never thought that Jup...." His deep brown eyes burned wholly into Justin's, one hand flat against Justin's chest, over his heart, the other hand continuing steadily downward, halting at his thick erection

Justin breathed deeply for a moment, then rolled his eyes and kissed Chris soundly. "Dork, I know that! Besides, it's just a fucking shirt."

"Our fucking shirt."

"Exactly." Justin let his eyelids slide to a close and arched his back, undulating a little, smiling when Chris gasped softly. "Now come on baby, I started, I fulfilled my part, so...."

Chris deftly silenced him with his mouth, inviting, warm and winning.

End

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