Pairing: Chris and Justin
Words: crag; god; fantasy novel; infatuated


Chris is maybe a little infatuated with the idea of falling in love
with Justin.  It's just a crush, and not even a crush on *Justin*,
or the *idea* of Justin.  But the idea of being in love with
Justin.  And that's not a good reason to get all over someone.  But
since when has Chris needed a good reason?

"Chris," Justin says reasonably.  "You're sitting on my book."

Chris gets up and hands Justin his book, a fantasy novel.  If they
were in that book, Justin would have the good sense to already love
Chris.

Justin puts the bookmark in and sets the book aside.  "So.  What's
up?"

"Nothing.  I'm just brooding.  It's all good."  Chris idly pats at
Justin's hair.

"Uh-huh."  Justin knows better to ignore Chris.  One ignores Chris
at their peril.  Not that Justin wants to ignore Chris, but it's a
safety rule, like always wearing your seatbelt in a car.  "Brooding
over what?"

"Y'know.  Why you don't love me, and why I want to fall madly in
love with you.  That kind of shit."  Chris stares out the window of
the bus, watching crags of rock and tufts of grass pass by.

"You wanna fall madly in love with me because I'm Justin
Timberlake, and I'm not in love with you because I'm an arrogant
dickhead who doesn't know you exist?" Justin suggests.

"Yeah, but our love should be able to overcome that."

"Except we're not in love, according to you."

"Well, I don't think so.  Mostly because I'm resisting.  I know
you'd fall to my incredible charms, and I want to give you time to
grow up and have your own experiences first."

"How much time and what kind of experiences?  Should I set out into
the world to seek my fortune or something?"

"Um."  Chris thinks about it.  "Are you kinda saying you've already
done that?"

Justin rolls his eyes.  "Since about forever, yeah.  I think I
found my fortune already, thank you very much."

"Oh.  How about romances?  Sowing the wild oats and all."

Justin gives Chris a look.  "Hello, here.  You *do* remember
ripping me a new asshole last month for making out in the elevator
with the chick with the pierced nipple?"

"Yeah, but one chick -- and making out -- do not the sowing of oats
make.  Besides, like I said, I was only pissed at your lack of
discretion."

"Uh-huh.  The guy you made me drag to breakfast in Baltimore and
then dumped a glass of orange juice over his head?"

"That really was an accident," Chris protests.  "Joey hit me."

"'Cause, y'know, now I'm thinking you were secretly jealous all
along."

"Duh."

"But that can't be right."

"Why not?" Chris asks, honestly curious.

"Because you're Chris," Justin says, like it should be
self-evident.  "And Chris isn't some kind of pussy-man who has to
beat around the subject and beat up other people's casual pick-ups
and pine and stuff.  You're Chris, and you'd just do something
about it."

"Huh."  Chris thinks about that.  And then he does something about
it.

Much later, he says, "You're so smart."

"Gotta be," Justin says, grinning.  "I'm trying to keep up with a
smart ass like you."

"Good, God, I thought you liked my ass.  Let me remind you."  And
he does.