nsync in black and white

Fiction by Pen . . . . . not real, made up, purely intended for entertainment


another little something for fic_requests

Somebody shrieked in JC's dream, and woke him up, so he's not dancing with Michelle Pfeiffer in a werewolf club after all. Or was it a rock concert, with hairy bikers... no, it's gone.

"G'b'ck t'sleep." A muffled instruction from the other pillow. "Wazzonly a car."

Normally JC would be all about the going back to sleep, but today, inexplicably, he's wide awake. Whatever he was dreaming, it was invigorating. But AJ is burrowing under the covers and grunting and clutching the blankets close.

JC lies back, and stretches his long body, hands above his head and through the painted rails of the bed until his fingertips touch the wall, feet pointed towards the other side of the room. Imagines himself elasticated, from one wall to the other. Pings back to his own size again. Then, inevitably, he has to get up to go to the bathroom. It's a little bit of a shock, leaving the glowy warmth of the bed where AJ's naked body is radiating heat like a skinny portable furnace. But by the time he comes back into the bedroom, JC's okay.

And - ooh! Frost! The window panes are laced with white glittering traces, JC can't resist, he kneels on the window seat to admire the intricacies of swirl and translucency. Follows lines with his finger, and wishes he'd remembered to bring his camera. Though it probably wouldn't capture the prettiness. He puts his hands on the glass, palms out, to see whether the heat will melt new patterns. The world beyond the frosted panes is crisped and white, grass and bare shrubs almost colourless in the slight mistiness. Sugar-coated. Fairytale.

He won't tell AJ that, because AJ will mock him ruthlessly for being a sap.

JC, however, can be ruthless too. Suddenly chilled, he scurries back into bed and snuggles up to his slumbering man—who screams with outrage and thrashes helplessly as JC's icy fingers flatten across his chest. JC captures a flailing limb with his leg, and grins into AJ's shoulderblades, licking the warm bump of spine, because he can. His other carefully refrigerated hand slides down towards AJ's firm little butt, and there are whimpers of dismay.

"I'm cold," JC whispers. "Warm me up."

AJ rolls onto his back. Dark eyes glimmer at JC from beneath those outrageously luxuriant lashes, and he snarls, but without vehemence. It's too cosy under the covers to be cross. Muttering, AJ reaches over to tuck the blankets in tight behind JC's back. JC slides his hand from chest to neck, feels the hot pulse thumping against his palm. JC's hands are warming up nicely.

So's the rest of him.



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