Pairing: JC and Chris
Words: copper; abase; omen; Meredith


"I'm a bitch, I'm a lover, I'm a child, I'm a mother, I'm a sinner,
I'm a saint, I do not feel ashamed, I'm your hell, I'm your dream,
I'm nothing in between, you know you wouldn't want it any other
way..."

Chris has absolutely nothing against JC signing Meredith Brooks
songs.  Even if the lyrics are wildly inappropriate for a guy.  The
dance JC's doing along with the singing more than makes up for it. 
Idly, Chris pictures JC in a belly dancer's outfit.  It'd suit the
moves, definitely.

"I'm a bitch, I'm a tease, I'm a Goddess on my knees..."  JC keeps
singing, but he's watching Chris through his lashes.

Oh, yeah.  JC on his knees.  Dancing even as he crawls across the
floor toward Chris, writhing, pretty mouth open...  Chris stifles
a groan and adjusts himself.

JC drops down to the floor at Chris's feet as the song ends.  "Hi,
Chris!"

"Hey, C," Chris says.  He reaches out and pets JC because he can't
help it.  Besides, JC is very pettable.  "You do know you're a guy,
right?"

"Yeah?  Wanna see?"

"Don't need to.  We're pretty sure about that."

"Oh," JC says, trying not to sound disappointed.

Chris winds his finger in one of JC's curls.  "Sorry, babe.  I
thought you already knew."

"That you don't wanna see?"

"That I don't want to see what?"

"That I'm a guy."

"It's not obvious?"

"What?"

Chris sighs.  "Never mind.  Don't bother your pretty little head
about it."

"You always do that!  Like just because I want to be pretty means
I'm stupid!"  JC comes up to his knees, hands fisted tightly.  "I'm
not stupid!"

"No, but you're very confusing."

JC growls.  "Fine, you want me to not be confusing?  I want to...
I.  Damnit!"  He leans forward and starts undoing Chris's pants.

This has got to be some sort of omen.  Or miracle.  One of those
kind of things.  "C?"

JC sniffles and pulls Chris's pants open and starts sucking at his
half-hard cock.

Under ordinary circumstances, Chris has nothing against someone
sucking his dick.  It's a simple equation -- mouth plus dick equals
good.  And when someone as sexy as JC abases himself like this? 
Well, that's better than good.  More good.  Extra good.  Something
like that.

Except JC's sniffling.

Chris steels himself for what he's about to do, and then gently
pushes JC back.  "What's wrong?"

JC pouts.  "You don't wanna see my dick," he says.  "I like to see
*your* dick!"

Chris feels himself starting to grin.  "You're upset because you
think I don't want to see your dick?  You should rethink that not
being stupid thing.  Because I definitely wanna see your dick."

"You didn't.  I offered and you didn't want to see it because
you're mean."

"I didn't know you were offering.  I couldn't figure out what you
were talking about," Chris explains, and tugs at JC.  "C'mon, man. 
Show me dick."

JC sniffles.  "No.  I wanna suck you off first."

"Selfish prick," Chris says affectionately.  "Okay, but you gotta
stop with the crying thing.  It makes me all limp and useless."

"No, it doesn't," JC says, fondling Chris's still very hard dick.

"Well, it *should*," Chris says, slumping back a little to give JC
better access.  He thinks about seeing JC's dick and, so, okay,
very little about JC is a turn-off, including the sort of crying.

JC happily ducks back down.  Chris tastes sweet and bitter and a
little like pennies.  Coppery and salty-sweet.

"You're a sexy bitch," Chris says, hands petting JC's hair.  His
hips are pressing up, because JC's just that good.  Under his
breath, he sings, "And I wouldn't have it any other way."