for the boy who has everything: abrade, fiberglass, cursive, slinky.
by allecto


"C," Chris said patiently, "this place is weird."

"They have *everything*," JC said happily, as he picked up a fiberglass pillow.

Chris fingered the plastic fringe and decided he really couldn't argue with that. "Why do you *want* this?" he asked instead.

"'Cause I don't have it," JC said. Then, attempting to look wise, he added, "People who have everything will buy anything."

"JC," Chris said, "even if you have everything that has ever been created, even if you have -" his eyes fell on a silver and purple velvet-covered spoon - "that, why would you buy a fiberglass pillow?"

"Because you collect pillows," JC said.

"You collect *pillows*?" Chris said.

"No."

"JC."

"Maybe."

"Jesus, man, we have *got* to get you a life."

"Look, I sleep a lot, okay? And my green velvet pillow was falling apart, and I lost the pink denim one, and the purple corduroy tends to. Abrade."

"Ah," Chris said.

"Shut up," JC said.

"It's just," Chris said, "that if corduroy 'abrades,' I wouldn't then think to myself, 'Chris old boy, better go sleep on fiberglass.'"

"It's for my *collection*," JC said. "Fuck you, anyway. You didn't *have* to come with me. I *told* you to stay at the hotel with Justin and Britney."

"And do what? Practice my cursive? Of course I came."

JC sniffed. "I don't know why," he said sullenly.

"Because you're a sexy bitch and I want to jump your bones?" Chris said.

"Talk, talk, talk," JC said. "If you really loved me, you'd be supportive."

"For Christ's sake, C, it's a fiberglass pillow!"

"It's pretty!"

Chris sighed.

"Look at the shading," JC said. "See how the artist blended the red and orange, to create the illusion of shadows?"

"It's not the Mona Lisa, C."

"Of course not," JC said.

"Then-"

"It's a still life. Mona Lisa was a person."

"I *know* Mona Lisa was a person, JC."

"Really? Because I seem to recall that I'm the only cultured dork in the group."

"Is that what this is about?"

"You and Justin have your own clique," JC said, "and of course Lance and Joey are off making fart jokes on their bus, and I get laughed at because I like nice wines and art and just because you fuck me you think you can call me an idiot and a nerd and make fun of me all the time and I won't care."

"No," Chris said slowly, "I don't."

"Of course not. How stupid of me. You were really making fun of Lance. Sorry for spazzing out on you there."

"Why didn't you tell me you cared?"

"What difference would it make anyway?" JC asked bitterly.

"I *love* you," Chris said, "what difference do you fucking *think* it makes?"

"Really?" JC asked.

"Dude. I'm about to buy you a $450 fiberglass pillow with a fake Renault on the front. Of course I love you."

"It's a Cezanne," JC said. "I love you too."

"Can we go home and fuck now?"

"On one condition," JC said.

"Yes?"

"You have to promise never, ever to come to a bazaar with me again."

"I'll show you bizarre," Chris said, and wrapped a patent leather shawl around his head.

"Chris!" JC whispered in a shocked tone.

Chris took that as a cue to dance around JC, singing "I feel pretty."

JC grabbed his arm and hissed, "Put that back!"

"Don't you think I look slinky?"

"No," JC said. "You're embarrassing me."

"I thought you loved me," Chris said. "If you really loved me, you'd be supportive."

"Okay, I get it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I, Joshua Scott JC Chasez, am a dork."

Chris sniffed. "You're lucky I like dorks," he said, "or I would have fallen for Timberlake ages ago."

"If he got everything perfect in an MMC rehearsal, Justin would wear the same socks all week until we'd finish filming that segment. For luck," JC said.

"Ah," Chris said, and put a hand over his heart. "I think you're in trouble."

"No," JC said, pulling Chris close, "I don't think I am."

"Pretty cocky," Chris said.

"Are you gonna kiss me or what?" JC said.

"I don't want to squish your pillow."

JC tossed the pillow back onto the display table. "Fuck the pillow," he said, and kissed Chris.

"I'd rather fuck you," Chris murmured.

"That would be acceptable too." JC pulled the shawl off Chris' head, grabbed his pillow, and lead the way through the crowd to the cash register.

Chris smiled. "Dork," he said fondly, and held JC's hand.
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