Just Say 'No'
by Cody

JC was sitting on the living room couch, notebook and pen in hand, working on lyrics, when he heard the backdoor open and then slam closed. Running footsteps, the fridge being opened, rummaged through, and closed. More running footsteps, coming closer. "C."

"Hmm?" JC didn't look up. He had to concentrate.

"C." Justin's sweaty body beside him on the couch, panting lightly.

JC couldn't help but look up and immediately regretted it. Sweat had turned Justin's wifebeater transparent. JC looked back down quickly. Concentrate. "Game over already?"

"Nah, just taking a break." Justin took a long drink from a bottle of water, then offered it to JC, "Want some?"

JC shook his head, keeping his eyes on the notebook in his lap. Justin, not one to be ignored, leaned closed, putting his lips to JC's ear and letting his voice get breathy, "Want some?"

JC pushed Justin away gently, trying not to think about how Justin's body was all smooth skin and muscles. Sweaty skin. JC loved sweat. It reminded his of sex and stage. He could smell the salty sweat that covered Justin, could almost taste it. He blinked down at the lyrics he was working on. Concentrate. "I'm busy."

Justin stood up, offended. "You're always busy."

JC sighed.

"You work too much."

"I'm sorry." Not I'm sorry, I'll change.; it was I'm sorry, but that's just how it is.

"JC." Justin had a way of doing that, sounding pissed and bratty one minute, then sweet and persuasive the next. "You've been inside all day, come get some fresh air. You can watch me kick Chris's ass."

JC shook his head. "I'm busy."

"You can finish later. Come on, you know you want to. You love watching me play." That was true. JC loved watching Justin play basketball. He was so graceful, so skilled. JC loved the way Justin's muscles glided beneath his skin with every movement and the look of concentration on Justin's face.

Speaking of Concentration.

"Justin, I'm busy." JC's tone was final. This song needed work. JC had priorities. There would be plenty of other opportunities to watch Justin kick people's asses at any or all sports. These lyrics needed to be done by the time they went into the studio Monday. End of Story.

When a half-empty bottle of water hit him on the shoulder, JC looked up, but Justin had already left the room. Stomping footsteps. Back door opened and slammed shut, but this time out of anger rather than carelessness. JC sighed again, concentrated on the notebook in his lap.

A few minutes later, the backdoor opened and slammed closed. Stomping footsteps. Justin appeared in the doorway of the living room. "JC, I'm breaking up with you," Matter-of-fact, like 'JC, it's hot outside,' or 'JC, it's Friday.'

JC stared at Justin in shock for a moment, then said, "The fuck you are! Get over here, bitch, and let me kiss you!"

"What?" Justin's eyes widened in shock.

"I said getcho ass over here and let me kiss you, bitch!" JC threw his notebook across the room. It hit the wall and slid to the floor. Justin didn't move. "Don't make me come get you," JC warned.

Justin gulped, walked obediently towards JC and stood in front of him, not sure what to do. JC reached out and pulled him forward, forcing Justin to straddle his lap. He pulled Justin into a deep kiss, then pushed his hand up the front of Justin's sweaty wifebeater and leaned down to run his tongue from Justin's navel to up between his pecs. Justin made a mmm-sound and clutched at JC's hair. JC pulled away and looked at Justin sternly. "Now, what's this shit about breaking up? Who you tryin' to play? You ain't breakin' up with me. Ever. Got that? Bitch?"

Justin nodded earnestly.

"Now, go finish your ball game, and then take off your damn clothes and get in bed. When I'm done workin', we'll play some real one-on-one." JC pushed Justin off his lap and gave him a slap on the ass. "Go."

Justin went.


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