Pairing: Joey and JC
Words: capsize; braggadocio; girlcrush; knuckle


Joey considers his options again.  So he agreed to go along with JC
because he maybe has a girlcrush on him.  Aside from the girlcrush
part, there's nothing wrong with that.  And there's nothing wrong
with sailing either.

Especially when JC wanders around in teensy weensy faded cut-off
shorts and bends over a lot.  That's a plus, actually.

But he'd completely failed to take into account the whole sailing
thing from another angle.  Like, what if they capsize?

His knuckles are white as he holds tightly to the rail.

JC taps Joey on the shoulder.  He jumps when Joey jumps.  "Hey! 
What's wrong?" he asks, pressing a margarita into Joey's hand.

As an Italian, Joey can admire JC's braggadocio.  As a person who's
about to die, it seems kinda tacky.  "Jayce, we're going down."

"What?!"  JC hurriedly inspects the boat from bow to stern and top
to bottom.  "Hey!  Not funny, Joey!"

Joey closes his eyes, then opens them hurriedly as that just makes
things worse.  "If you make it back, tell Chris I'm sorry about the
money I owe him, and tell Lance to look after Bri."

"Joey, we are not sinking!"  JC grabs Joey and hauls him back from
the edge.  "What's wrong with you?"

Joey resists, but JC's a tenacious kind of guy.  He clutches onto
JC's arm instead.  "Can't you see it?  How the water keeps coming
up, and it's gonna splash down and kill us?"

"Joey, those are waves," JC says patiently, sitting in the little
lounge area with Joey.  "It's perfectly normal."

When he can't see the water, it's less scary.  Just thinking about
how much of it there is under them and how small the boat is and
how much fucking water there is gives him the heebie-jeebies.  "So
we're not going to die?"

"Not today."

"You sure?"

"Completely."

Now Joey feels dumb.  He really is a girl.  "Okay.  Sorry for
freaking out on you."

"It's okay.  You were way nice to me when that millipede crawled in
my bag."  JC smiles.  "Drink your drink.  You'll feel better."

Joey downs the margarita like he's dying of thirst.

JC gives Joey his own margarita and goes to make more.

The alcohol helps.  So does watching JC's ass.

JC bends over to retie the sail.  He can feel Joey's eyes on him.

Oh, yeah.  Just like that, baby.  Joey adjusts himself.

JC turns quickly, catching Joey with his hand on his crotch.  "See
something you like?"

"Uh..."

JC sways his way over to Joey.  "Maybe something to distract you
from the water?"

Joey nods mutely, unable to say anything with JC's eyes on him like
that.

JC kneels straddling Joey's lap.  He pours them both another drink
from the table next to them.  Handing one to Joey, he drains his
own glass.  "What do you see?"

Joey drinks his.  He's okay.  He's in control.  Until JC starts
grinding down against him.  "You... fuck."

"I do, yeah."

Joey drops the glass.  He doesn't care where it lands.  He grabs
JC's hips.  "No," he says, dimly aware that he's acting like a
sexstruck moron.  "Fuck *me*."

"You sure?"

"Uh huh."

JC proceeds to do just that.  Repeatedly, ending with Joey bent
against the rail, staring into the waves.  They collapse onto the
deck, panting.  JC rolls against Joey.  "Still scared?"

Joey's got his eyes closed, hand on JC's ass, face buried in his
hair.  "Scared of what?"

"The water."

Joey licks his lips.  "No.  But if I, um, get scared again?  Are
you gonna handle it the same way?"

"Maybe.  Maybe you don't have to be scared for me to."

"Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah."

Joey grins.  "Good."