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randomlingWritten because a very good friend of mine is in pain tonight. If you examine the pairing closely, you can probably guess who!
Summary: AJ always goes to the same place.
Warnings: Boybands, RPF.
Also: Unbeta'd.
For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
trumpeterofdoom.
Cool, Cat
"Fuck you very much," AJ said, and considered throwing his phone across the room. He decided against it in the end; no point. She'd already hung up, anyway, and he'd ruined three - no, four - phones like that for no particularly good reason. Plus, he liked this phone.
What a dumb bitch. He stood out in his garden and yelled for ten minutes. That made him feel better, a bit, and after that he shrugged and grabbed his car keys. Driving south and a little bit east, he felt better still.
There were just some things that didn't seem to change: Orlando or LA, drunk or sober, this year or the next. JC's house was big and airy and - let's be honest - bizarrely decorated. Never mind that, though. He let himself in at the back, just like always, and just like always, it smelled a bit like home.
He found JC in the living room, strumming aimlessly at his guitar. The best part of this was how JC didn't look at all surprised. He just glanced up, his hand stilled on the strings, and said, "What happened?"
AJ smiled.
"Doesn't matter," JC said.
They had the same damn conversation every time, but JC didn't seem to care. Everyone else had, somewhere along the way, gotten sick of picking up the pieces, or he'd hurt them too bad, worn them out too much. JC, though. JC was bullet proof, could take any shit AJ cared to throw at him and still be there, smiling and undefeated, the next morning. He was impossible to push away.
God knew, AJ had tried.
"I broke up with her," AJ said.
JC put his guitar down and stood up. A moment later, his arms were around AJ, and the strange thing was, AJ didn't really feel cut up about it all any more. Weird thing, considering that twenty minutes ago he'd been ready to knock walls down with his bare hands over this. JC's super-power was his calming aura, taking the edge off whatever crap AJ was feeling.
"Well," AJ said, "she broke up with me. We broke up, anyway."
"Mhm," said JC.
He always seemed to come here, to take solace in the same pair of arms. AJ was straight - definitely straight - but JC was an aberration, a unique piece of work. The only guy. The only guy he'd ever been with.
These last few break-ups, he'd started wondering about this. They always danced the same old dance. He'd always thought that JC was comfort for him, pure and simple, and JC comforted the way he did everything: with sex. He'd been comfortable with that for the longest time, friendship-with-benefits, but recently he'd started to think. That they did this same thing every time, and JC had stuck by him even after his longest-standing friends had gotten out of the kitchen. Those friends had come back, of course, but for a while there, JC had been the only one he could call.
Maybe that meant something.
JC rubbed AJ's back gently, and AJ rested his head on JC's shoulder, enjoying it. "I keep telling you," JC said, "you shouldn't buy dogs with them. It leads to disaster."
AJ smiled at that. After a few more moments, they drew apart. JC rested one hand on AJ's shoulder, companionable. There was a pattern here: later, when they'd ordered in dinner and thrown around an idea or two, JC would kiss him. There'd be sex tonight, that was how it worked.
For now, though, there was a question that needed answering.
"Why do I keep coming back to you?" AJ asked.
JC smiled his enigmatic smile. "'Cause I'm a cat person."
Summary: AJ always goes to the same place.
Warnings: Boybands, RPF.
Also: Unbeta'd.
For
trumpeterofdoom.Cool, Cat
"Fuck you very much," AJ said, and considered throwing his phone across the room. He decided against it in the end; no point. She'd already hung up, anyway, and he'd ruined three - no, four - phones like that for no particularly good reason. Plus, he liked this phone.
What a dumb bitch. He stood out in his garden and yelled for ten minutes. That made him feel better, a bit, and after that he shrugged and grabbed his car keys. Driving south and a little bit east, he felt better still.
There were just some things that didn't seem to change: Orlando or LA, drunk or sober, this year or the next. JC's house was big and airy and - let's be honest - bizarrely decorated. Never mind that, though. He let himself in at the back, just like always, and just like always, it smelled a bit like home.
He found JC in the living room, strumming aimlessly at his guitar. The best part of this was how JC didn't look at all surprised. He just glanced up, his hand stilled on the strings, and said, "What happened?"
AJ smiled.
"Doesn't matter," JC said.
They had the same damn conversation every time, but JC didn't seem to care. Everyone else had, somewhere along the way, gotten sick of picking up the pieces, or he'd hurt them too bad, worn them out too much. JC, though. JC was bullet proof, could take any shit AJ cared to throw at him and still be there, smiling and undefeated, the next morning. He was impossible to push away.
God knew, AJ had tried.
"I broke up with her," AJ said.
JC put his guitar down and stood up. A moment later, his arms were around AJ, and the strange thing was, AJ didn't really feel cut up about it all any more. Weird thing, considering that twenty minutes ago he'd been ready to knock walls down with his bare hands over this. JC's super-power was his calming aura, taking the edge off whatever crap AJ was feeling.
"Well," AJ said, "she broke up with me. We broke up, anyway."
"Mhm," said JC.
He always seemed to come here, to take solace in the same pair of arms. AJ was straight - definitely straight - but JC was an aberration, a unique piece of work. The only guy. The only guy he'd ever been with.
These last few break-ups, he'd started wondering about this. They always danced the same old dance. He'd always thought that JC was comfort for him, pure and simple, and JC comforted the way he did everything: with sex. He'd been comfortable with that for the longest time, friendship-with-benefits, but recently he'd started to think. That they did this same thing every time, and JC had stuck by him even after his longest-standing friends had gotten out of the kitchen. Those friends had come back, of course, but for a while there, JC had been the only one he could call.
Maybe that meant something.
JC rubbed AJ's back gently, and AJ rested his head on JC's shoulder, enjoying it. "I keep telling you," JC said, "you shouldn't buy dogs with them. It leads to disaster."
AJ smiled at that. After a few more moments, they drew apart. JC rested one hand on AJ's shoulder, companionable. There was a pattern here: later, when they'd ordered in dinner and thrown around an idea or two, JC would kiss him. There'd be sex tonight, that was how it worked.
For now, though, there was a question that needed answering.
"Why do I keep coming back to you?" AJ asked.
JC smiled his enigmatic smile. "'Cause I'm a cat person."
