engagements: (Default)
engagements ([personal profile] engagements) wrote in [community profile] bakerstreet2015-11-02 09:02 pm

Unofficially Official

unofficially official;

Dating...isn't what you'd consider the two of you doing. You're just close. Close enough to spend time together, do things you both enjoy, eat together, talk about problems, cuddle, and kiss, possibly. And you don't do most of these things with other people.


Okay, so maybe you are dating. But do you need to disclose this fact to everyone else, or at least acknowledge it amongst yourselves -

If you even realize it, that is. It's possible this whole "a couple" status has snuck up on you. Theoretically, at least.

...how did that happen?

  • Easy peasy: comment with those prefs and info, cuties.
  • Reply to others.
  • THREAD. ♥
blackwood: <user name="blackwood"> (Default)

josh washington | until dawn

[personal profile] blackwood 2015-11-04 10:48 pm (UTC)(link)
sosilly: (😊)

[personal profile] sosilly 2015-11-05 12:10 am (UTC)(link)
[ their summer has mostly been this: chirs' bedroom with the television on, netflix or video games or ancient vhs tapes, the window open, perspiring bottles and popsicle sticks and the bed heaped with extra pillows from the hall closet. it's been t-shirts, beanies and rotating fans. it's been mostly just josh and chris doing absolutely nothing-- but together.

today's no different.

chris got an email a week and a half ago with the reading list for the new semester, but he hasn't even opened it, let alone scour the library to get a head start on things before september hits. right now, it still feels like a far off thing, nothing he has to worry about yet - and he hasn't. hasn't even considered worrying. classes are the farthest thing from his mind when they spend time like this, flopped on the mattress with controllers and the radio in the background playing a soundtrack of songs that don't really suit the cgi violence on screen.

it's weird, but they haven't seen much of the rest of their friends since may. they've had a few parties here and there - chris thinks josh might spontaneously combust if he was denied his instinctual need to organize booze-positive get-togethers - but it's mostly just been this and only this and honestly? chris isn't complaining. it's been good to chill - no expectations, no pressures - with just josh, the two of them settling into a routine of lazy entertainment, falling asleep together, grabbing greasy breakfasts on the way to get josh a fresh pair of clothes, and starting over. simple. chris has texted with sam, played a single awful game of one-on-one basketball with matt, and gone to movies with ash, but nothing feels as comfortable or as easy as this. and he hasn't bothered to question it. he doesn't really have a reason to. josh is his best friend and they're teenage boys with a knack for being lazy; what is there to question?

chris drops his controller with a flourish and leans back against the headboard, huffing out something between a laugh of disbelief and a sigh of frustration. his character is, once again, laying in a heap on the ground while P2 WINS!!! flashes in an array of colors across the screen, and yeah, he's officially done with this game.

I can't feel my thumbs.

[ which is maybe an excuse to not get beaten to a pulp again, but it's also the truth; they've been playing something or other for about five hours straight now, with the exception of bathroom breaks and the fifteen minutes it took to heat up some instant meals about an hour ago.

chris tugs at the collar of his t-shirt, the consistent heat making the fabric stick slightly to his skin. back when spring had finally started to set in and the sweaters and jackets were being packed away, chris had felt incredibly naked without layers of fabric and suddenly bare arms, but he can't imagine pulling on a hoodie now. it's been warm, the kind of warm that makes chris like exerting little to no energy and avoiding the sunlight if he can help it.

he gets up and pads over to the fan, flicking the power up a notch, and then returns to the bed, flopping back into position and bumping josh's side with his elbow.

So, what d'you say? Forget the Xbox for a while and give my self-confidence a chance to recover?

[ he flashes a smile in josh's direction, an eyebrow quirked expectantly. ]
blackwood: <user name="yevon"> (pic#9640873)

[personal profile] blackwood 2015-11-05 02:58 am (UTC)(link)
[ summertime, and the living is easy—and this time, josh is inclined to believe it.

days are good. days are great. nights, he's given to sinking into his old standby: wondering when it'll all come crumbling down, because it has to. it always does. but days, though, days mean chris, days full of slanting sunshine through the blinds and curtains, dim hot evenings, both their hair curling slightly in the heat; a slow, honeyed backdrop of music, games, movies; sometimes, a shared joint, a shared bottle, a shared bed. a slew of easygoing activities specifically designed to ignore anything remotely related to their responsibilities. josh doesn't think much of college in the first place, so it's only too simple to ignore the looming end of the season, the threat of of another semester filled with classes, work, stress.

summer makes it easy to be self-indulgent. josh isn't used to moderation, even on his worst days. he wants everything in excess, even his friends. the languor of summer's dog days means he feels very little guilt over monopolizing chris' time, his space, luxuriating in every undemanding hour spent together. if he could, he'd lock himself into this cycle of chris-games-chris-parties-booze-friends-movies-chris forever; for now, all he can do is cling to the moment, make it last. no pressure. no anxiety. no fear.

today, he's in an old queens of the stone age t-shirt and a wrinkled pair of boxers, the same clothes he'd slept in the night before. their impromptu video game tournament had started shortly after waking—well, after a lazy morning of sleeping in and not wanting to expend the energy to get up—so josh hadn't seen the need to get dressed like a normal person, not when they'd just be staying in and wreaking more virtual havoc on each other. besides, it's hot, the kind of sticky heat that clogs up the throat and slows the limbs. even chris is down to a single layer. were it not for the sweet relief of the fan, it'd probably be pretty brutal in here.

after a quiet snort of laughter, josh affects a mock-disappointed sigh as chris drops his controller. it's a nice change, owning chris in his own home, especially given the fact that chris tends to crucify his ass in FPS games. yesterday's COD beatdown had been a different story, but this afternoon, josh is king.

That's what they all say. [ and then, as chris takes it upon himself to kick the breeze up a notch: ] Good one.

[ unfolding himself, josh lets the controller slip from his fingers and onto the bedspread, silently agreeing: his thumbs are also good as shot. five hours of (almost) straight playing'll do that to a guy. he stretches his legs out and slumps back against the mountain of pillows, wincing in discomfort as pins and needles start to prick at his muscles.

he barely moves when chris flops back down beside him, save to turn his head and echo the grin.

Yeah, man. Sounds good to me. [ then, with lazy faux-concern: ] You gonna need anything to help with that? Inspirational speech? Pint of ice cream? Rocky training montage?
sosilly: (😳)

[personal profile] sosilly 2015-11-05 04:18 pm (UTC)(link)
[ chris crosses his legs at the ankle, right where he's rolled up the cuffs of his jeans to help ward off the heat. he's only wearing the stupid things because the mailman dropped by and threatened to knock, and while it turned out to be a false alarm, the energy it would have taken to undress again didn't seem worth it at the time. he may or may not be suffering for that extreme aversion to doing anything now, when midafternoon means direct and pulsing sunlight is attempting to raise the temperature of the room a couple degrees. next time he goes to the bathroom, he'll probably leave the denim behind.

he snatches up his controller when josh concedes to his pathetic terms just to power down the console and then click off the television. honestly, their eyes and brains could probably use the break as much as their thumbs. besides, chris is better at the games with clear strategy, where he can ponder the intricacies of proper weapon choice and stats before going in for the kill, no matter how much josh complains about how long it takes him to do anything. straight-up melee style where you either know your combos or don't are not his forte, proven by today's failure to do anything but be tossed around and used to wipe the floor. he doesn't do well under pressure and josh knows; this game was his choice, after all.

once the controller has been deposited at the foot of the bed, chris resituates himself on the mound of pillows to consider josh's suggestions, scratching at his temple with a finger and almost disturbing his glasses.

Ice cream, sexual gratification, aliens telling me I'm the Chosen One... [ he shrugs as if they're all obvious. they should be; they've definitely discussed at least two of them in great detail before. ] They all have reasonable chances of speeding up the process.

[ there is a tub of ice cream downstairs - half melted after the freezer decided to crap out for a while last night, probably in protest to the temperature - but that's downstairs. chris would rather lie here and let the fan cool his skin, let josh throw on a terrible accent and recite an awe-inspiring speech from some lame-ass film they're both in love with to try and get him going while they both sink deeper into the cushions. they'd passed the morning deep in sleep - chris had woken up with josh's forehead pressed against his shoulder - but already a nap doesn't sound like a terrible idea.

maybe they're in need of more sugar. he rolls onto his side and grabs a handful of M&M's from the nightstand, then rolls onto his back again. he pops a few of the candy-covered chocolates in his mouth and offers the rest to josh. already the color is bleeding onto the skin of his hand.

What've you got for me, Miyagi? [ a good pep talk might inspire him to get that ice cream. he knows josh is perfectly capable of one, whether he does an impression of film's greatest mentor or not. plus, josh seems to be in particularly good spirits at the moment, smiling a lazy and content smile when chris looks at him. his hair's a little unruly from the heat and the lack of grooming they both opted for when they'd finally roused themselves from sleep earlier, and his eyes are a little heavy from an unbalanced mixture of too much sleep and not enough, but he looks good. healthy. chris thinks it must be the combo of proper medication - at least, what chris figures is proper medication - and plain old good times. ]
blackwood: <user name="yevon"> (pic#9640890)

[personal profile] blackwood 2015-11-05 08:45 pm (UTC)(link)
[ good times and good meds. the end of last year had been vicious; as a last resort, josh had gone to dr. hill to work out a new cocktail of medication during the first days of spring. it had been rough at first, cross-tapering and transitioning, as it always isβ€”nothing new thereβ€”but josh had been so desperate to feel anything that he'd stuck to the new regimen as best he could, determined to find a good balance. a couple months later, and he still hasn't set fire to his schedule. his chemistry is stable. he'll never be 100%, but he's up in the high eighties this time, and it feels good.

it helps that chris is almost constantly there as a reminder. with so much of their time spent together, josh can't skip days or chris will notice. just that morning, chris had seen josh pop a pill through his open bathroom door right after he'd brushed his teeth, but it had seemed as normal as if he'd done it alone, by himself, in his own bathroom at home. once upon a time, josh would have hated anyone seeing him do that. now he doesn't mind so much. not when it's chris, at least.

yeah, he could go for some ice cream and sexual gratification himself, or both at the same time. that'd be great. the chosen one thing, thoughβ€”that's easy, that he can do. he'd once performed the entirety of both the president's speech from independence day and william wallace's braveheart monologue for chris' benefit, the latter complete with a terrible approximation of a scottish accent. both are only a small chunk of his extensive movie quote rolodex, but right now, he can't muster up the effort for a real performance. all he wants to do is chill and watch chris do... whatever, really, he's not picky.

it's funny—josh has always been pretty invested in the trajectory of chris' life, but more and more, he's found himself preoccupied with the comforting minutiae of what chris already does, even if it doesn't directly involve him. even if it's something as simple as doing nothing at all. it's familiar, like a favorite movie, a favorite track off a favorite album. it seems like a natural progression; feel better, bond more. do stupid shit. as far as josh can tell, chris doesn't seem to mind.

what've i got? josh levels chris with a serious look, rolling to face him fully; he lifts a hand to settle it solemnly on his shoulder. under the thin fabric of his t-shirt, chris' skin feels warm.

You are the One, Christopher.

[ a reassuring, mentor-like squeeze. he drops his hand, reaches for the M&Ms, takes the bag from chris, empties some of the contents out onto his palm; he selects a red M&M and a blue M&M and tips the rest back into the bag. unable to stop his smile from morphing into a toothy smirk, he offers them out and recites the obvious follow-up in a low drawl. ]

You take the blue pill, the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill, you stay in Wonderland, and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes.

[ chris could always pick both, or neither. josh isn't sure why he's setting himself up for something; he's not going to move an inch off this bed if he can help it, not while the humidity is sapping any desire he might once have had for the cold, sweet taste of ice cream. he can wait until it's dark, he's patient. until then, chris is just going to have to deal with a knockoff pillow-hogging slacker morpheus instead. ]
sosilly: (πŸ˜…)

[personal profile] sosilly 2015-11-06 12:15 am (UTC)(link)
[ they still don't talk about josh's medications. chris doesn't really know exactly what he's on or what it all does besides what he's managed to find in his secret google searches, not wanting to pester josh into explaining everything to him but wanting to understand. seeing him take a pill here and there made it all feel more real, and more... manageable, somehow. the "dangerous" secret doesn't feel that dangerous anymore. it's hard, yeah, and it's unfair as fuck, but it's a situation that chris is fully prepared to face; anything josh needs, he'll get. the fact that josh isn't constantly trying to shield chris from the basic mechanics of this makes it so much easier.

the reminder of how much trust exists between them is... well, it's awesome.

and chris might not have realized it yet - at least, he hasn't taken a moment to question it in any thorough detial - but he, too, has been working on building up a compendium of josh-related intricacies; a hundred tiny things that josh does and josh says that make him josh. there's comfort in each of them, something special that his brain or his gut or his heart latches onto and holds tight whenever his best friend lets them free. maybe that's why it feels unusual to spend any amount of time with someone that's not josh. it just isn't the same. and so chris definitely doesn't mind using up the rest of the summer doing this - more than his summer, if he's being honest with himself.

josh' serious look encourages a less than serious look to play across chris' face, but he tries to appear solemn and resolute when josh touches his shoulder, playing the part. josh's grip is surprisingly - or maybe not so surprisingly - familiar, and the squeeze encouraging even when chris has no idea what the stakes are here. you're the one. that's a loaded statement, but chris is prepared for the challenges that are sure to face him next - as the story's hero, what choice does he have?

he turns to face josh better, watching as he sorts through a handful of M&M's. he tugs at the faux hawk that's unfortunately droopy in the heat and then drapes his arm across his stomach. he can't help a snort of laughter when josh presents him with the red and blue candies. that grin is contagious, and chris half-mouths the words along with josh as he recites them.

he doesn't have to think about his options long; of course, he's going to play along. he takes the red 'pill' and pops it in his mouth, crunching and swallowing before fixing a quizzical eye on josh.

What truth are you offering me here?
blackwood: <user name="yevon"> (pic#9640886)

[personal profile] blackwood 2015-11-06 01:38 am (UTC)(link)
[ of course he'd take the red pill. josh's grin only widens, enjoying, as always, that chris is playing along. people aren't movies, and he gets that, he does, no matter how much simpler things would be if they were—but whenever chris intentionally inserts himself into the leading man role without josh having to push him there, he gets a real kick out of it. that's the spirit, buddy. ]

You mean, other than your reality is a lie, and you're really being farmed for energy by evil robots?

[ with an idle laugh, josh tosses the remaining 'pill' into his mouth and bites down. looks like he's gonna be the one to believe whatever he wants to believe, wake up in—in chris' bed, he guesses, which isn't a bad deal. it's comfortable. nice. he sleeps better with... someone there, anyway. someone he can trust. ]

Some human battery you are. Day's not even over and you're totally useless, bro.

[ it's a hypocritical, warm-hearted joke, meant to cover for the fact that for a second, he'd actually considered offering something sincere. about what, he's not sure—it'd been a gut feeling, immediately suppressed.

he glances down at the faint stains of red and blue on his palm, and, after a pause, wipes them off on his shirt like a responsible adult. he amends:
] But I guess that's my fault, huh?
sosilly: (😊)

[personal profile] sosilly 2015-11-06 02:29 am (UTC)(link)
[ he couldn't live with himself if he didn't take the red pill. how could he call himself a massive film junkie if he let that chance pass him by? not a good one. not one worthy of josh's simultaneously amazing and awful impressions and speeches. ]

Yeah. Tell me something I don't know.

[ that movie has been messing with his head for years now. he watches josh gulp down the blue pill, and tsks like he's deeply disappointed. but there will be more red pills. there's lots more in the M&M's bag, but he returns them to the nightstand. they have to make the supply last as long as possible to push back the time when they'll actually have to get cleaned up enough to leave the house and restock on junk. chris is thinking pizza for supper; the works, with added pineapple.

chris can only shrug at the accusation; he can't exactly deny the fact when he's splayed out on the bed, warm and teetering on the edge of sleepy. he does notice that josh has failed to offer him a concrete truth, which seems like an important part of the game, but he doesn't feel inclined to press the issue. he doesn't blame josh for not being interested in delving into the twisted plot of the matrix at the moment; their brains aren't currently wired for anything too complicated.

Hey, I could have kicked your sorry ass out long ago if I really wanted to. [ he half-smiles and bats gently at josh's chest with the back of his hand. ] We're both guilty, I think.

[ he doesn't have any plans to kick josh out now either. he's content to keep josh around as long as he wants. ]
blackwood: <user name="yevon"> (pic#9640922)

[personal profile] blackwood 2015-11-06 04:26 am (UTC)(link)
[ josh huffs a snort in response to chris' tsk of disappointment. he couldn't let a perfectly good M&M go to waste, even if he'd just metaphorically condemned himself to artificial intelligence purgatory. well, sacrifices must be made in the pursuit of... candy, or whatever.

he affects a slow blink, letting his gaze drift: chris' hand, resting between them; the backs of his knuckles, where he'd just knocked them softly against josh's chest. he's not tired, really, but he's definitely a little sluggish, floating in that balmy sort of limbo where any prolonged silence could just as easily turn into a languorous cat nap. he remembers a vague impression from that morning: the way his head had fit against the warm, familiar curve of chris' neck and shoulder, caught between sleep and wakefulness. another blink, and he drags himself out of the memory; his eyes find chris' face, and it's as if the momentary lull had never happened.

When aren't we? [ seriously, with all the shit they've gotten up to? he favors chris with a leisurely conspiratorial look, the corner of his mouth pulling upwards into his own half-smile; he nudges chris in the thigh with a bony knee. ] Yeah. See, there's where you're wrong. My ass is pretty far from sorry.

[ still, the words rest easy in the cage of josh's skull; he gathers them up, locks them in. he doesn't want to go anywhere; that's the last thing he wants, and it's a small relief to know that chris isn't about to boot him out for overstaying his welcome. ]
sosilly: (😌)

[personal profile] sosilly 2015-11-06 03:56 pm (UTC)(link)
[ josh's attention shifts away from chris' for a moment, and chris can tell his mind is wandering, something flickering behind his eyes. it's one of those tiny josh-isms. he gets this look on his face when he's calling something up in his head, gaze going distant, mouth puckering the smallest amount. chris wonders briefly if he'd ever noticed it before their summer of togetherness had started. they've been on the edge of inseparable ever since they became friends, but there's something different now, like josh has been lit up in a new light, any and all shadows diminished.

josh comes back from his thoughts and chris does do too, hurriedly deciding that it must have something to do with josh's secret being their secret now.

chris sticks out his bottom lip and nods, confirming that evaluation. he's sure that their friends would have something to say about it. it's true, they probably cause more trouble - though, usually hilarious trouble - than the others can truly appreciate, but that's not going to make them stop. it's enough to get that perfect reaction out of each other, nevermind anyone else. he glances down disapprovingly at that bony knee for a second and attempts to bang his leg against josh's in clumsy retaliation.

You like eating my food and hogging my covers and messing with my gamer score, then? [ it's supposed to sound at least a little condemning, but chris is half-smiling. he can't exactly succeed at making josh feel guilty for things he's got no reason to feel guilty for; chris wouldn't have it any other way.

he raises his head to slip his hand underneath it, cupping the back of his skull in his hand when he lies back again. in the process, he shifts - without really realizing it - closer to josh. it's warm in the room but there's something different about josh's warmth.
blackwood: <user name="yevon"> (pic#9640861)

[personal profile] blackwood 2015-11-06 06:24 pm (UTC)(link)

[ though it's said with unapologetic wryness, there's a shard of a deeper truth buried in there: yeah, he likes that, he likes all of that. sure, there are times when he can't escape a pervasive feeling of guilt, trapped under the crippling weight of self-loathing and a hundred other things, but his new meds and the lazy perfection of summer had done a pretty good job of weeding them out. his smile graduates to a quiet grin and chuckle as chris retaliates, murmuring: ] Hey, not so fast.

[ in response, josh hooks his ankle over chris' to keep his leg from mounting another attack, trying to pin it to the bedsheets. the end result isn't exactly effective; heavy limbs and a distinct lack of effort means that josh bumps shins with him instead, his calf resting against the stretch of skin just under the hem of chris' rolled up jeans. a traitorous part of his mind—even slowed by the sticky heat—seems to be flashing some kind of warning in neon, but josh ignores it, too content in the moment to consider giving in to destructive thought patterns.

and even though the preventive maneuver had failed, he doesn't move his leg. with the space between them that much smaller, josh feels that much warmer, that much more at ease.

Seems as good a use of my time as any. [ he, too, rearranges his upper body on the bed, rising up with minimal exertion to dig his shoulder into a more comfortable position among the pillows, folding the forearm closest to the mattress up over his stomach to cradle his ribs. he fights a childish urge to reach over and flatten chris' droopy faux-hawk with his free arm, smirking at the way the humidity had done its best to ruin the effect. ] Who else is gonna do it?

[ completely unbidden, some duplicitous little voice in the back of his head whispers in reminder: ashley could.

josh swallows to dislodge the sudden pang of frustration in his throat, his brows drawing down faintly in annoyance at himself—before he forcefully dismisses the thought, adjusting his head to better observe chris' face, focusing on the small curve of his grin, proof of amusement. he's not sure why, but he can't bring himself to get back on that horse just yet. he doesn't want to have to watch chris' attention shift from him to someone else in high definition; he wants chris' attention right here, in the moment, with him.
sosilly: (😌)

[personal profile] sosilly 2015-11-06 08:22 pm (UTC)(link)
[ and, of course, chris didn't expect him to say no, whether he's playing at the role of annoying, clingy best friend or being completely honest. it seems like a mix of both; yeah, he's needling at chris but there's no mistaking the fact that josh is having a good time here. example a: the way that he's persistent to win this childish game of almost-footsie. chris mumbles a half-laughed ow that isn't particularly wounded when their shins bang against each other. he's aware of josh's skin against his in a way that's almost distracting, like his brain feels inclined to consider that sensation a little deeper for some reason or another. he doesn't pay it much attention; he uses his other leg to knock their knees together instead, a movement that seems both like a failed attempt to continue the battle and an invitation to just... stay there. ]

I don't know. [ it's said with a contemplative sigh, and if he thinks of ashley, it's only a fleeting thought, not one that startles him out of-- whatever this is. it has something to do with her and josh being completely different people, different things all together, in his head.

he can't help but notice the way josh keeps smiling, smirking, grinning, and it's hard not to do the same. he glances over and up at josh, slightly above him now after disrupting the pillows, and blinks slowly.
] It's a real honor, though. You should consider yourself lucky.

[ or maybe chris is the lucky one, being the one that josh has shared so much with. it does feel like an honor, a real privilege to be this close to josh washington, to know him so well. chris has thought about it in the past and the reality hits him again, full-force, filling up his chest when josh tips his head to take a better look at him. chris wonders what he's looking at.

'cause chris is looking at josh's mouth. and they're so close and it's so warm and he's thinking about josh's leg on top of his and his brain seems to come to the conclusion that it's a good feeling, them touching. it had been good to wake up with josh next to him and it's so good to have josh next to him now.

he doesn't think about it - won't even remember making the decision when he looks back in a few hours - when he tilts towards josh. one moment he's lying still and the next he's leaning past the tiny slice of empty space that separates them, lifting his head just enough to press his mouth against josh's. and that's all it is; a press of mouths, chris catching at josh's lips with his own and closing his eyes as a wave of sensations bombard him: the taste of the M&M's, the scent of warm skin, the tiny sound of someone's breath snagging in their throat.
blackwood: <user name="yevon"> (pic#9640875)

[personal profile] blackwood 2015-11-07 12:49 am (UTC)(link)
[ he only has a second to connect the dots—chris' eyes on his mouth, the tiny calm before the storm—before chris is kissing him.

something knots up in josh's chest, like some invisible hand has plunged deep between the spaces of his ribs and has gotten its fingers around his heart, squeezing tight. on instinct, his eyes go half-lidded; he leans down into it before he can stop himself, chasing that point of contact. it's easy to go with it, accept it, to slot his mouth against chris' lips and turn off his brain, savor the unthinking fog of sensation; the faint, sweet taste of chocolate, the texture of denim against his bare knees, the sweep of summer air across both of their bodies, pressed together in the middle of the bed. it's good, it feels good, it feels right, why shouldn't he just go with it?

he's wanted this, hasn't he? had he even realized it?

and then that cloying warmth is blooming into dizzying twin waves of want and doubt, punching through the velvety haze between them. his fingers twitch. his palm finds the soft curve of chris' jaw, the heat of his skin. all those separate puzzle pieces suddenly drop into place, fitting together: josh had never really questioned them before, had just accepted it all, the closeness, the comfort. maybe it had just been... too gradual to notice. with anyone else, he would have pulled away long ago—to hide, build up barriers, prevent the intimacy that would inevitably end in disappointment. but chris already knows so much of him, more than anyone, better, sometimes, than josh knows himself, more than half their lives spent in each other's company. the walls josh had once put up for chris' benefit have all long since crumbled, his secrets no longer hidden; it feels good to be known, to be accepted for who he is, not just... who he is around other people. who he is when he's medicated. who he is when he's not himself.

fuck. fuck. how did this happen?

stupid. obvious. josh isn't one to question his vices; he isn't very good at material restraint, but he knows he can't just let this one go. he should have known, should have figured it out. it'd been right in front of his face the whole fucking time. selfish. it's not just anyone, it's chris—there's a lot more at stake here, years and years of friendship, and josh can't make himself surrender to excess and ignore the repercussions. he has to make sure chris is on the same page with him. it's... it's important.

with a low noise, he pulls away. not far; just enough to speak, to share breath. no, he can handle this. it's gonna be fine.

Um. Shit. Chris. [ he glances away, unsure how to start, how to put it. he shoves down an errant stab of anxiety and presses on, curling the tips of his fingers against the short hairs behind chris' ears. ]

Look, I—if this is some kind of—joke, or, or whatever...

[ in his rational mind, josh knows chris would never mess with him like that, but all he can think is: please be real. he's not sure he can just shrug it off if chris didn't mean it, not now—but he's prepared to, if he needs to. ]
sosilly: (😩)

[personal profile] sosilly 2015-11-07 03:15 am (UTC)(link)
[ he's filled up with a sense of relief he hadn't even realized he was praying for when josh leans down and meets him in the middle. it means there's something in josh that wants this, too.

it's strange how much thinking his brain decides to do once he's already taken this plunge, already done the thing that could reveal itself to be a massive, destructive mistake. it's not like chris at all; chris considers options and looks for the best solution and tries his best to be rational, and this is the exact opposite of all those things. there are things to lose here. this is josh. he's kissing josh. and something in him is telling him that should be weird, but it's not. it's really good. it's frighteningly good. it feels like this is the culmination of a whole lot of good things, like they've been leading up to this moment for a stupid amount of time without even realizing. he can't wrap his head around the fact that his mouth is pressed to josh's but it's happening, and it feels right.

josh touches his face and he leans slightly into his hand, head tilting in a way that slots their lips together just a little more. josh's skin on his skin stirs up some confidence in the pit of his stomach, and the hand that had been behind his head a moment ago settles at josh's waist, fingers curling into the loose fabric of his t-shirt. it's like there's this sudden gravitation pull between them, and there's no way in hell that chris can deny this now; he's been wanting this, waiting for this, hoping that something might spark between them. he just hadn't admitted it to himself before. it hadn't been a concrete thing until chris was leaning in.

the goodness of the kiss manages to keep him from completely freaking out, ducking out from under the looming consequences and letting everything else distract him. it turns out to be a simple task to focus on josh's presence, his smell and his fingers on chris' jaw and that sound in his throat-- and josh is drawing slightly back.

chris' eyes flicker open slow, lost in the fog of the kiss. his mouth is slightly parted, one corner quirked up in a smile that says he can't believe that just happened but he's cautiously happy it did. but then he sees that josh's expression isn't the same - it's unsure, eyes shifting away - and his stomach drops, brows arching in concern.

what has he done?

Oh, fuck, I-- [ he stops himself, lets josh talk. and he's done this the wrong way, hasn't he? he screwed up, he screwed up royally.

he's scrambling for the right words, fingers tightening in josh's t-shirt. maybe he should let go, but the heat of josh's hand is still there against his face, his ear, and while he doesn't know what josh needs to hear, it doesn't seem right to break the contact. tell him the truth, tell him-- tell him it's not a fucking joke.

No. No, it's-- not a joke, I-I wanted to-- I mean, did you--?

[ did you want to kiss me? 'cause i wanted to kiss you so fucking bad. ]
Edited (i got too excited) 2015-11-07 03:16 (UTC)
blackwood: <user name="yevon"> (pic#9640858)

[personal profile] blackwood 2015-11-07 06:55 pm (UTC)(link)
[ relief blooms bright and sharp in his chest. he thinks: yes, fuck yes, remembers waking up to the scent of chris' skin, the muted, clean smell of his shampoo, the warm morning presence of him. his infectious laugh at josh's stupid, drawling jokes, the way he looks when he's wrapped up in fifty layers and complaining about the wifi signal, the way he looks stretched out beside him on a hot summer afternoon, how easy it is to be around him. it comes to josh in a rush: he wants this. he's wanted this for a while, more than he's ever allowed himself to want something—someone—before. he'd never let himself think about it too hard, never accepted the possibility it might happen, happy (or close enough) to settle for the next best thing, but now, it's right here, and he wants it all. wants to have this, to keep it.

he's hyperaware of the places where their bodies meet: his hand, chris' jaw; chris' hand, his waist; their legs, now tangled. would it really be such a big change? chris is already his best friend, his partner. this just seems like the next logical step. it seems right.

Yeah. I, um. Yeah. I did. I mean—good. [ good. good. good that chris wanted it too, that it's not some half-baked prank. it's real. it's real. he swallows, his gaze flickering down to chris' mouth, and then up, into his eyes, made blurry by proximity. chris looks stricken, and josh's stomach rolls over. no, it's—it's fine now. right? ] Hey, don't—don't freak out. It's okay.

[ it's as much a reassurance for himself as it is for chris. he offers a tiny, lopsided smile, idly traces the shell of chris' ear with his thumb, tries to pulls himself together. god. yeah. yeah. i wanna kiss you. i wanna kiss you a lot.

still, he's not sure how to express what he's feeling; it's almost too much, a din of noise in his head. i can't read your mind, joshua, dr. hill had said, on multiple occasions; you have to tell me how you're feeling, and we can go from there. but this is different. it's new, and josh can't put a name to any of it. why can't he just be like other people? why can't his brain just shut up for once? he doesn't know. it just how it is. but he knows that he needs this, he knows he wants to chris to touch him, to keep touching him. it could be so good. it could be great.

Just don't... [ don't go. josh's voice scrapes at the back of his throat. the words come slow, like they have to be dragged out of his mouth. he's being honest here, and it's fucking hard, it always is. how's he gonna put this in a way that doesn't make him sound like some crazy needy girlfriend? what about ash? i can't lose you? what is this—is this serious? are you gonna leave me when it gets rough, are we gonna stay friends? what happens next? ] I don't want— [ but he does want, and that's the thing; he needs chris to know.

but he can't arrange the words how he wants, so he flips them instead.

What... what do you want?
sosilly: (Default)

[personal profile] sosilly 2015-11-07 10:12 pm (UTC)(link)
[ josh's breath when he speaks ghosts over chris' face, and his skin prickles with the heat, with the reminder of their proximity. his eyes follow the tiny movements of josh's as they trail over chris' features, trying to read them and find reassurance that, yes, he's being honest, and yes, he did want chris to kiss him. and he does find it. he's not lying about this... this feeling. thank god. thank god. ]

Oh my god-- good. Good. [ he closes his eyes for a second, starbursts under the lids. he's trying to will his heart into calming down; it's slamming against his ribs, blood rumbling in his ears. josh's words and touch are reassuring, though. don't freak out is much needed advice, and he focuses on josh's fingers tracing the shape of his ear, how terrifying and remarkable the touch is in it's intimacy. why were they waiting? why did this take so long? he just wants to pull josh closer, fold him in against his body.

when he opens his eyes again, josh has that timid smile on his face and another wave of relief washes over him, reminds him that he needs to calm down and take this slow. they need to talk, to figure this out. one reckless action is probably - definitely - enough for one day, even if he has to beat back the need to kiss josh and keep kissing him. and he does have to beat it back; it's there, a burning ache. where did this come from? how the fuck hadn't he realized it before? it's suddenly all-encompassing. he could blame hormones or loneliness, and yeah, okay, they probably have their part to play, but it feels like something else, too. something important

H-hey... [ it's very soft, an attempt to console and encourage when josh seems a little lost for words. his voice sounds off, and while it's not really surprising, it makes chris feel like he has to say something, to make this okay and right and not scary. chris has never been able to completely read josh's mind - no matter how hard he might try - but he knows that this is a lot, and it has the potential to be a lot more, and josh needs something from him; explanation, assurance, plain old answers. chris has concerns, too, but his instinct is to put josh's first.

the hand that had lain useless between them finally moves, sliding between the pillow and josh's neck, chris' fingers grazing the warm skin and the hair at the nape of josh's neck.

the question throws him a little, because he hadn't considered it before. he hadn't considered any of this about two minutes ago. any thoughts of josh and him together like this were buried somewhere deep, far off and untouchable. now he can't think of anything else. he wets his lips.

What do I want? [ the words are tinged with this desperate little laugh. what does he want? his brain supplies the answer immediately: this. he's never felt so confused and twisted up in his thoughts but he does want this, doesn't he? he wouldn't have kissed josh if he didn't. he doesn't exactly know what it all means, for them, or for what he almost had with ashley, but he knows that he can't let this die seconds after he brought it to life. they're best friends and they're always going to be that; they can figure this out. we can figure this out. ]

Josh, I want-- I want this? [ he blinks, swallows, smiles this smile that says he doesn't completely understand it, but hell, it's the truth. ] You, I mean. You, Josh.

[ a pause. ]

If that's cool.
blackwood: <user name="yevon"> (pic#9640890)

[personal profile] blackwood 2015-11-08 12:47 am (UTC)(link)
[ chris has always been quick to reassure, to put others above himself. he'd said: you should consider yourself lucky. josh does. he is lucky. he doesn't know how it happened, how he could have found someone as kind and loyal and understanding; chris is important, he's always been important. he's a part of josh's life that josh never wants to lose, something essential, a fixed point. the feeling of his warm palm, the sincerity of his words—god, why the fuck had he ever doubted—of course he knows why, he knows he's gonna keep doing it, too, can't help it, can never help it. but that familiar refrain of self-doubt is ebbing away with every second spent curled up with chris, replaced by a steady ache just underneath his sternum, in his lungs. his heart thuds like a bird in a cage. his skin feels like it's on fire. chris' fingertips against his neck. chris' smile.

josh turns his head against the skin of chris' palm, seeking out the touch, the closeness. i want you. does he? for how long? how could anyone—no. shut up. chris isn't a liar. some things don't have an answer. some things don't have to have to have an answer. he needs to get out of his own head. he's gotta drown it out.

Alright. [ josh squeezes his eyes shut. he says it again, as if in confirmation. opens them. me too, me too, me too. watches chris lick his lips with dark eyes. ] Alright. [ and then: ]

That's cool. [ and he can't help the wry twist of his mouth, the hesitant, grateful amusement that pitches his voice low with the echoes of a laugh. ] Very cool. So. I'm. I'm gonna, um. I'm gonna kiss you again.

[ if that's cool.

so he does. he leans forward, closes the gap between them. presses his lips against chris' mouth, opens them, a soft pressure, a little less chaste this time—shifts closer, needing to get rid of all that extra space, the dead air separating their chests, hips, legs. he hikes up on an elbow, fingers sliding through the hair at the back of chris' head, urging him forward. it's hard to believe that this is happening, that he can freely do this. for all his encouragement as a wingman, he's only had a few drunken, meaningless fumbles in the dark, and none of them had ever felt as necessary or as intimate as this. now that he has it, he wants more. even in the midsummer heat, he feels like he could make out with chris for hours. make up for lost time.

he draws away to murmur out a coda, half-leaning over chris, pressed close. he pulls in breath, steels himself again.

Chris. This is... gonna be for—for a while. Right?

[ he's not sure what he's saying—date me, love me, stay with me until we're old? it seems like a lot to ask. it is a lot to ask, and it's unfair of him to ask it, but josh isn't a very fair person. ]
sosilly: (😊)

[personal profile] sosilly 2015-11-08 02:06 am (UTC)(link)
[ for all that's tumbling around in chris' head, he knows there's twice that or more in josh's. he knows josh does a lot of thinking, whether he wants to or not, and he knows it's not all parties and video games and elaborate match-making scenarios. there's dark, deep dark gritty thoughts, ones that probably have a lot to do with the way he sometimes tosses in his sleep or lets sentences trail off by mistake. chris has never minded either, but he knows that they have their roots in a bad place, an unfair place, and that's what he hates, knowing that josh is burdened with all this weight that chris has no hope of carrying for him. but he wants to try. even if josh is afraid to drop some of his baggage, chris will offer to take it off his hands. it's scary for them both, but he wants to help.

chris bites the inside of his lip when josh tilts his head against chris' hand because-- because it makes him realize how quickly the flip has been switched. they'd been lazy best friends a few minutes ago, throwing around movie references and daydreaming about ice cream. and now they're this, pressed close and engrossed in one another, acting like people in love. maybe that should tell him something. it was so easy to move from one to the other, a natural transition despite the rocky moment of did we do something wrong?

nervousness twists his stomach pleasantly when josh smiles; it's such a good smile, a genuine smile. chris' voice comes out thin and mostly breath when he echoes josh's words:
] Very cool.

[ holy shit, he's so glad to kiss that smile.

chris peers at josh through half-lidded eyes when he presses forward, the blurry splay of josh's eyelashes across his cheeks somehow very important in that moment. it only takes a moment's worth of josh's slightly less than gentle urging to make his eyes flutter closed, though, wanting to rely on the feeling more than any other sense. he doesn't realize how much of a difference the space between them makes until it's gone; it's much better without, every point of contact conducting something akin to dull shocks of electricity. chris tugs at josh's bottom lip, the hand at his waist sliding to his back and the hand near the back of his neck squeezing a little, thumb gliding against the soft skin behind josh's ear. josh's breath in his mouth, josh's fingers in his hair, josh's legs twined with his; just josh, josh, josh. and chris has never been good at the romantic, but this-- this is it. who would have thought?

a small noise rumbles out of his throat when josh stops, eyes opening.

the question feels heavy when josh asks it. for a while is fairly ambiguous, but it seems like a big question, an important one, and chris has a twinge of fear, imagining how things could go wrong, how he could screw this up or let josh down, ruin too much to even start to repair. but it's a momentary lapse. it's gone before it can settle. he was already in it for the long-run when they were still just best friends.

Yeah. Yes. [ he nods, accidentally knocking his forehead against josh's. ] If that's what you want, too, then-- then yes. Yes, please.
blackwood: <user name="yevon"> (pic#9640922)

[personal profile] blackwood 2015-11-08 04:52 am (UTC)(link)
[ rationally and irrationally, josh knows there's so much that could go wrong, that what can go wrong probably will, because nice things never last. not for him, not for anyone. sure, these meds are working out way better than his last ones; they don't make him feel like a zombie, they allow him to think, to rekindle a lost spark of creativity; he can actually watch porn without getting bored, and his sleep schedule is way less fucked up than it was. but they're not perfect. he's going to have bad days. if they're together, chris will have to handle the fallout. it won't be... normal. it'll be rough.

and not just that: they could fall out of love, or friendship. chris could find someone else. he could get bored, or annoyed. life isn't like the movies. it's not that simple. happily ever afters are few and far between—but fuck, maybe this time. just this once. it could be like that. it could be better. maybe chris can help.

josh lets out a surprised little groan when chris' teeth catch at his lip, his breath hitching in his throat. his grip on chris' hair tightens in reaction and then loosens in apology; that hand begins a slow drag down, down chris' neck, his throat, his chest, splaying wide across his ribs. every touch makes him feel wanted, and feeling—hearing—chris respond to him is like a drug, like he's riding some kind of honeyed, languid high. josh isn't any good at romance either, for all his fronting—this would have gone a lot more smoothly if he was, he probably would have been a little more honest with himself before it ever happened—but he knows what it should be. he knows love from a distance, from a director's point of view, or at least he thought he did. and this... he could drown in this.

he huffs when chris bumps their foreheads together, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. for a second, his stomach clenches tight, momentarily terrified of what the answer might be—but then chris' responds, and the tension leaves, and it's okay.

Yeah. [ god, yes. he inhales with a slow blink, shivers. ] It's—what I want.

[ please. the magic word. it's enough for josh to lean in again, tilt his head, let his eyelids droop. he kisses chris' lips, once, twice; sweet, lingering kisses. on the third, he opens his mouth and slides his tongue across chris' bottom lip, dipping briefly into the slick heat of his mouth. he keeps it slow. there's no rush. the warmth between them is good, so good; the sticky air, the small breeze, the haze of the room. minutes ago, he would killed for more popsicles and the cold taste of ice cream, but somehow, even wrapped up in a cocoon of heat, this is more soothing than either of them. ]
sosilly: (😳)

[personal profile] sosilly 2015-11-08 10:52 pm (UTC)(link)
[ chris smiles back when josh huffs, and it amazes him how normal this feels, despite everything. they're still just them but at the same time they've tipped over into something so much more. it's... comforting, to think of it like that. the pressure that might have existed with someone else is much lighter here. josh's hand on his chest is hot through the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

the smile only gets bigger when josh says yes, yes this is what he wants too. the simple fact of his reciprocation makes chris feel absolutely elated; he's never had that before, only one-sided attractions and crushes kept secret for fear of rejection. to know that they're on equal ground here - wanting and being wanted - is above and beyond everything. it's incredible. it means they're fucking golden. and chris might have meant to say so but then josh is tilting down to his mouth again and the words get lost, put on hold until later when there isn't this tug between them.

chris hums against his lips when the first two kisses last, each one tantalizingly slow and needy. his hand slopes against the small of josh's back, thumb rubbing back and forth, hitching the fabric of the t-shirt. josh's tongue is a welcome surprise, and chris chases it playfully back with his own, sliding against the swell of josh's bottom lip with tentative exuberance. he's never done this before, doesn't exactly know the mechanics of kissing like this; hell, he hasn't kissed someone since he was sixteen, bumping noses and teeth with a girl he'd met at a party. he was uncomfortable and she got bored and it was just bad, a shitty experience for everyone involved. this is the exact opposite. this is good; josh seems to be of the same opinion.

he'd be content to kiss like this for the rest of the afternoon, let the day pass in a rosy glow of summer heat and warm pillows and lazy mouths. and maybe they can. there's no one telling them they can't. still, chris brain whispers that he should slow down, pump the breaks a little so they don't completely lose themselves, cross over into morning after territory before they can even think about this. it's not an easy task, though. it's actually tremendously difficult to pull back, but he does, a tiny amount.

I can't believe I didn't-- [ he scans josh's eyes, swoops in again and kisses his mouth, his chin by mistake, and then his mouth again, making up for the missed landing. ] --I didn't know, until now.

[ but all the pieces are there. he can trace the pattern through his memories; sipping from the same bottles and camping out in josh's backyard and that one time chris had to force himself not to reach for josh's hands when he looked ready to cry, frustrated and putting himself down, hinting at the fact that chris should just leave. all the feelings add up. a perfect crescendo. absolutely obvious. he wonders fleetingly how many of their friends might have guessed, might have been waiting for the big reveal.]

I'm an idiot. [ he lets his head fall back against the pillows and smiles up at josh, the hand at his neck falling forward a little, fingers skimming clumsily over the loose collar of josh's tee. ]
blackwood: <user name="yevon"> (pic#9640873)

[personal profile] blackwood 2015-11-09 02:16 am (UTC)(link)
[ josh's tendency is to overindulge. if a thing makes him feel good, he'll want more of it, to drown out the bad with the better, spice things up a bit. his instinct here is to go further and push boundaries, but he can't just treat chris like he's booze or junk food or drugs—chris deserves better than that. chris is better than that.

still, he can't help but let each sensation wash over him, the steady hand at the base of his spine, the rich slide of their mouths and tongues together, of chris all around him, his scent, his skin, his touch. right now, he feels like he could burrow into chris' side and never leave. kissing him is like floating in the ocean. easy. calm. he's never kissed someone like this before, never with full control of his faculties, clear-headed, like he actually means it and isn't just pretending, like he wants to crawl inside them and live there. he'd never considered himself a particularly affectionate person, but he knows he'll be happy like this. just like this. even if it had been an awkward start—if they'd begun this by bumping noses and teeth, knocking glasses askew and banging elbows—it would have corrected itself eventually, evened out somehow. they just fit together. josh doesn't believe in fate, he's too practical for that, but if he did... well, he doesn't, but this is close enough.

muted laughter fans out across chris' mouth when he misses the mark. josh dips his head and returns the mistake, catching the corner of chris' smile with a brush of his lips.

You and me both, dude.

[ it makes sense. a stupid kind of sense. why he'd tried so hard to get chris to be with ash, projected himself into that relationship, translating those feelings of jealousy into the ever-present drive to see chris happy, to see him reach his full potential. a small part of him is even annoyed at himself, at the way he'd handled things. you're such a fucking hypocrite, joshua. pushing people together like barbie dolls when he couldn't even act on his own desires. couldn't even realize them fully. ]

I should've— [ and he gives a little shake of his head, more of a half-twitch. draws back to lay his skull against the pillows—close enough to reach chris' mouth if he wants, to lean their foreheads together, but far enough to converse, murmur the words out. he absentmindedly traces the faint logo on the front of chris' shirt and forces himself to regulate his breathing, to get a grip; a tide of drowsiness creeps up on him, reminding him of just how much emotional energy he'd just spent. it's easier to be casual about it now that he knows they're both together on this, that they'd both missed the signs. should've known. ] I should've figured it out. I mean, I...

[ looking back, maybe he already had it figured out. he just hid from it, pretended it wasn't there, never would have acted on it. he pauses, digs a canine into his lower lip, sighs out in amused self-deprecation. ]

Well, good thing you took the plunge, right? Or we'd still be stuck in the slow lane.

[ if it were anyone other than josh lying here, he'd be congratulating chris on his confidence and resolve, like any good bro would if his best friend scored with someone. but now that someone is him, and he feels like a complete dumbass. to think he'd prided himself on observing people, knowing them, while he couldn't even direct that observation inward, figure shit out about himself and how he'd felt about his best fucking friend. what a joke. a pretty good one, too. he's going to look back on this and laugh. hell, he's laughing now—so stupid. so goddamn stupid, he's almost glad it happened this way. ]
sosilly: (πŸ˜ͺ)

[personal profile] sosilly 2015-11-09 08:08 pm (UTC)(link)
[ sounds like they're both idiots. they'd been too caught up in repressed feelings and accidental avoidance to realize just how close they've been all along, only a few small steps away from something more. this blooming warmth and these fantastically sappy kisses could have been theirs long ago if they hadn't pushed their feelings onto other people, onto other things. and he really does feel like a complete idiot for letting it last so long, allowing this want to sit unnamed and untouched when it would have been so easy to do something about it. it was easy; he's proven that. but it's something of a comfort to think of them in the same boat. they're the same, worried about their hearts and what they do with them. his voice is quiet and almost sing-songy, the last word rising in pitch, when he says: ]

Meant to beeeee.

[ his hold on josh loosens just a little, letting him reposition himself on the mattress. he keeps his eyes fixed on josh's face though, shifting even more onto his side to face him better. he waits patiently as josh works through his thoughts, and eventually admits his own fault. he presses his lips together, watching the tiny shifts in josh's expression as he talks. he doesn't want him to feel guilty. if there's any guilt to place here it lies - like josh had said before - on both of them. but guilt doesn't seem necessary anymore. they've managed to move past that all of a sudden, haven't they? ]

Man, the slow lane is lame. You're welcome. [ it's said without any trace of mockery; it's just a very soft joke, the easiest of teasing. he's transfixed by josh's bitten lip, by the way his finger moves, light and smooth, across his chest. ]

I really wanna just-- [ his brow furrows for a second before he decides to do instead of speak. they're already close, but he someone manages to make them closer, leaning into josh and using the hand on josh's back to gently urge him against chris. he slides his other arm under josh's and wraps it around his upper back, trapping josh's hand between their chests, then pushes his knee between josh's two, twining their legs even more. he debates for a moment before lifting his chin, mouth pressing in close to josh's forehead, encouraging josh to tuck in against his neck and collar. and the heat somehow seems to double what it was but it's not sickly or too much; it's safe, covering them like a blanket, and chris sighs, satisfied, against josh' mused hair. ] Kinda just. Hold you.

[ he's definitely watched too many movies where the love interests curl into each other and let the background music soften, the camera panning across the quiet, still bed, but there's a truth to how peaceful those scenes always are. and his brain will never be impressive in it's eloquency, but it says yes, good, this is so, so good. ]
blackwood: <user name="blackwood"> (Default)

[personal profile] blackwood 2015-11-10 12:07 am (UTC)(link)
[ chris' undivided attention is addictive. josh gets with the program without question, settling comfortably against chris when he draws them both together; hip-to-hip, chest-to-chest, save josh's hand between them, clenching instinctively in the fabric of chris' shirt; chris' arms wrapped around him, chris' leg, a warm anchor between josh's thighs; chris' heart, a steady beat against the tips of his fingers. josh just goes, melts against him, curls in like a lost animal, sinking into the embrace, the safe and overwhelming presence of him. it's kind of like hugging a space heater, but josh doesn't care. it's better. it's perfect, it's—he's needed this. he's needed this.

he closes his eyes, eyelashes fluttering against chris' skin, giving another inch in to that soupy mire of drowsiness. a low hum of pure contentment escapes him. the words, when they come, are muffled against chris' collarbone, the smooth curve of his throat.

Works for me.

[ but then chris' your welcome starts bouncing around the satisfied morass of his mind, and even though josh knows it's the gentlest of jokes, even though his mouth is curving up into a half-smile—there's a part of him that's taking it seriously: what would have happened if chris' hadn't leant forward, closed that space between them? he shouldn't feel so vulnerable, he doesn't like to show his belly, but with chris... it's different. all his doors have been kicked wide open, and chris should know. how much—how much josh appreciates him. ]

Chris. [ a rasping, hesitant whisper against chris' neck. ] Just, um. Thanks. For—for this. For everything.

[ for letting him stay. for being around. for talking to him, all the way back in third grade. for being his best friend, for trying to help. for holding him. for tolerating him at his worst. it's a lot to communicate in such a vague arrangement of words, but he hopes chris understands; it's important. ]
sosilly: (😌)

[personal profile] sosilly 2015-11-10 01:26 am (UTC)(link)
[ josh makes it so easy for chris to pull him in, letting chris guide him and settle them against one another, impossibly snug. and chris can't really get over the way josh smells - day-old shampoo and the cedar-y scent that tinges well-worn t-shirts left in drawers for too long - or how affirming it is to have josh's palm cupped over his heart. he grins, tired and stupid, against josh's forehead when he feels the flutter of eyelashes and the rumble that goes through josh's body with the hum. the words that come a second later are mumbled and his breath is mildly scorching at such proximity, but chris is glad to hear them.

he closes his eyes, pleasant drowsiness pulling him down. he's still wearing his glasses and the goddamn jeans but he doesn't want to budge, doesn't want to disturb them now that they're here. he knows he can sleep like this, maybe for days, probably better than he ever has; warm and safe and... and keeping josh safe, sheltering him. he knows that josh doesn't always need protection. josh is a big boy, a big boy who's taken care of himself, alone, for a long time. he's not helpless, nowhere near, but if chris could hold him like this just every now and then, just shield him from the bad for a little while, then he'd be happy. so happy to give back, to make josh feel capable and ready for the world like josh has so often done for him, whether by simply telling him fuck yeah, you can do that or very nearly kicking him right in the ass.

his name pulls him back from the brink of sleep, and he hmms before josh goes on, eyes still closed against the afternoon light.

he doesn't know what to say at first. even whispered against his throat, the words sound weighted, the kind that carry a lot more than they would in normal situations. he wonders, smiling to himself, if this is the truth he'd earned by taking the red pill earlier. but if he deserves thanks, then so does josh. because this is a two-way street, and if josh is thanking chris for-- for, god, for loving him, then chris should be thanking him for making it so stupidly easy.

Hey. You're welcome. [ he says, and it's not teasing at all this time. it's genuine, whispered against josh's skin. ]

Thank you.

[ and he means that. from deep down in his soul, he means that. they aren't just words tossed back because they seem to fit. josh has been there and chris honestly believes he'll always be there, come whatever, and that's more than chris could ever ask. ]
blackwood: <user name="yevon"> (pic#9640875)

[personal profile] blackwood 2015-11-11 12:01 am (UTC)(link)
[ josh smiles, feeling chris smile, a half-crooked twist of the mouth. he can hear a similar weight behind those words, how chris means them, and it clamps down on his heart in a way he can't name. chris' hmm echoes in his own chest, under his palm; josh mumbles something in return, every last coil of tension slipping from his body, held fast in chris' arms. something that might've been: anytime.

there will be moments when josh wants to be alone, when he'll push chris away, revert to the tried-and-true method of putting all his shit under lock and key. trying to, in his own way, protect chris from the ugly truth of his brain. times when he won't answer texts, won't go to class. there will also be times when josh will want chris there, need him there, to keep him grounded—keep him from thinking stupid things, doing stupid things, to be his voice of reason. and then there'll be the times when everything is just like this: sweet, and good, and normal; video games at stupid o'clock, movie marathons on rainy sundays when they should probably be doing their homework. sharing a bottle back and forth, recording vine material and retweeting each other's thoughts, pushing each other to take risks. having each other's backs. just like always.

but now—now it's just the two of them, tangled here, together, sharing heat on a lazy summer afternoon. there's no going back from this. josh is gonna put his heart and soul into being a person chris can love, loving chris in return, and if chris is there to help shoulder some of his burden—josh will try. he'll try so hard to let him.

he doesn't say anything more, floating in that foggy, liminal place, caught between the haze of being awake and dozing off completely. he's not sure how long he stays that way, just feeling, warm and at peace, but at some point the scales begin to tip; then, free of thought, josh slowly, finally, drifts off to sleep.