Pairing: Justin and Joey
Words: jupiter; fleece; moon; charm



Every day on tour was a party.  Everywhere they went, the people
thronged and demanded more from their gods whom they worshipped
with offerings of devotion, gold and their own flesh.

The legend, as it so often is, was greater than those who bear it,
because it is often more dangerous being a god than being the
worshipper of one.

The worshippers, after all, believe their gods owe them something.

He scrubs at his head and thinks of shearing the fleece.  But the
image may not change, lest the worship cease.  He is tired of being
a god.  Not of the godly powers, but of the responsibilities and
the job.

"Sup?"

Justin turns, startled.  "Oh, hey, Joey.  Didn't hear you."

"No prob."

"You ever wonder if people would like us less if we changed?"

"No.  I know they'd change with us.  Depends how we change."

Justin looks at him.  "So you don't think we embody a cultural
archetype and that our appearance and behavior are being
subconsciously or consciously molded into what our fans need it to
be?"

"Only if we let it," Joey says.  "If we don't it works the other
way.  We influence the cultural archetype by changing, and since
we're already -- consciously or subconsciously -- associated with
that archetype, it changes with us.  It's the joy of having
un-formed minds as our fans."

Justin's jaw drops.  "You're smart!" he accuses.

"Okay."

"Okay?  What kind of response is that?"

"A noncommittal one."

"I'm gonna tell Chris on you."

"Huh?"

"You're being smart and using big words."

"Multisyllabic, even," Joey agrees.

"See!  You did it again!"

"Wha'?"

Justin eyes him suspiciously.  "Now you're just humoring me."

"Would I pander to your strange ideas by proliferating inanities in
that manner?"

"I don't even know what that *means*," Justin complains.

"Not my fault.  Learn the charm of words, Justin.  'The pen is
mightier than the sword' and all that."

"No swords, lightsabers or other weaponry, toy or real, on the bus,
remember?" Justin says.  "Besides, that's the point.  Or sort of. 
We make these songs and put out these words, and now there's the
*energy* that we've created, only it exists in other people and it
wants us to *do* things.  Like the Greek or Roman gods or whoever. 
We're supposed to be out turning ourselves into swans so we can
sleep with sheep, and doing like that Jupiter dude and eating our
children, and howling at the moon and stuff."

"Jupiter didn't eat his children, he was the only child not eaten
by his father, Saturn.  He was rescued by Juno, his sister, and
later his wife.  Though he stole her from Pluto through rape. 
Anyway.  The parallel isn't too bad.  We could easily take
advantage of our -- worshippers?  But if enough of them stop
believing in us, we become powerless and cease to exist.  So, yeah. 
Maybe we shouldn't be so overtly convinced of our own superiority,
lest our fans do as the Romans did, and stop believing."

"So you think maybe the Saturn guy was like a Roman version of Jane
Carter, and Aaron's gonna marry his sister Angel?  And they were,
like, us, and mythology's like 'Behind the Music'?"

Joey blinks.  "Well, seeing as Aaron has a twin, wouldn't he have
to be -- switching to Greek mythology -- Apollo or Ares?  And that
makes him the son of whoever you're casting as king of the gods."

"You're being too literal.  You have to see the big picture."

"If Aaron were Zeus, he'd have to overthrow his mother and confine
her to the lowest level of Hades, Justin."

"And that would be a bad thing, how?  I've *met* her, y'know."

"Yeah, but do you see Aaron doing that?  Besides, Hera's *older*
than Zeus, so Aaron'd have to go for Nick or, like, Leslie."

"Ooh.  Nick."

Joey shrugs.

Justin has blonde fantasies.  He blames Lance.

Joey frowns.  "You don't look so hot, Jup."

"Huh?"

"You're, like.  Faded?"

Justin's eyes widen and he turns back to the mirror.  "I am?"

"Uh huh."

Justin feels his face, looks at his hands.  "I am!"

Joey nods.  "Dude.  We've gotta have a concert.  Right now.  If all
the children in all the world clap their hands *real* hard, we
might still be able to save you."

For a half second, Justin believes him.  Then he gets it.  He
thwaps Joey.  "Fucker.  You had me believing it."

Joey shrugs and pulls Justin down on the couch with him.  "Dumbass. 
Don't you know that we'll always believe in you?"

Justin wraps his arms around Joey's waist and tucks his head under
Joey's chin.  "Sometimes it doesn't seem like enough, y'know?  Like
we've been made into something more by what we do and that, if the
cheering stops, then we lose our identity."

"You will.  JRT, I mean.  But you'll still be you.  So who cares?"

"Don't you think, though, it'll be weird going from being a sheep
fucker who threw your momma into hell to just being whoever we are
when we're not us?  When no one's watching?"

"Father into hell.  Momma goes of her own accord.  The sheep was
really a person, and I just think it'd be weird to rape someone as
a swan."

"You're avoiding the question," Justin accuses.

"It might.  Isn't everything weird the first time you do it?"

"So you think we're not really nobody now?  That we're all about
the swan-fucking and throwing parents into hell even when no one's
watching?"

"Nope.  I think that we don't do that at all.  Much.  Maybe just a
sparrow.  But, see, the deal is that we have to be true to who we
are beneath the facade, even while we have an adoring public.  That
way the transition is easier.  Besides, we don't want to be cast
down into hell.  Just, like, walk the face of the earth."

Justin considers this carefully, then shakes his head.  "Either I
don't get it or I don't think it works like that.  We can't be
nobody when we're like we are and everything's about being
worshippable and pleasing our followers so they'll keep sacrificing
to us.  And, if I sorta understand what you're saying, that we
should *pretend* to be nobody right now -- that doesn't make any
sense at all."

"What I'm saying is to hell with trying to keep worship and
sacrifice.  We don't need it.  So, we should act as our
personalities and consciences dictate.  And then, whether we're
worshipped forever or not, we're true to our inner being."

"All I know about my inner being is that I *like* being worshipped
and shoes are neat.  I don't think that counts."

"I'll keep worshipping you, you know," Joey notes.

"You don't worship me now."

"From afar, I do."

"You're not afar," Justin points out reasonably.  "I'm sitting on
your lap."

"I suppose you want me to worship you now, huh?"

Justin shrugs.  "You're probably just messing with me."

"I promise to get down on my knees and worship.  This offer only
comes around once in a blue moon, you know."

"Like I said.  You're just messing with me.  You don't mean it."

"Going once..."

"I didn't say no," Justin assures him hastily.

"Can't move with you on my lap," Joey says, smiling.  And, "Going
twice..."

Justin gets up.  "If this is just a joke, I'm telling Chris."

"Going three times..."

"I'm standing up!"

"Open your pants.  And sit down."  Joey tosses a couple of throw
pillows on the floor and kneels on them.

"My pants?" Justin squeaks, falling back with a thump.

"Third and final call..."

He fumbles his pants open and sits and waits.

Joey smiles and ducks his head.  And worships.

Justin throws his head back.  He's still not sure he believes in
himself, but he definitely believes in Joey.