(no subject)

'kay so I'm not feeling very talkative but I've been falling behind on the whole Joey month/Elijah month thing soo....



*sigh* Look at them singing to one another. Love the lighting in the picture.
( Another JoeC pic behind the cut. )

Story Rec

Mental Boy by Rhys

“I think I’m lost in myself,” JC said slowly, touching his fingers to his head. Joey followed them, his eyes narrow and dark, and JC waited for him to agree or make a joke or say something that would take the edge off the seriousness. Joey was good like that; he always had been. He was stern but loving with Justin, who spent a month as a spoiled brat until Joey squeezed it out of him, and with Chris, who needed to be told when he was out of control but would only believe it coming from Joey. When Lance was sick and pale as death, it was Joey who talked about anything but his heart, and when he did, he didn’t treat it like a jail sentence. Joey was just a generally nice person, and a good and honest man. But he didn’t say anything, just stroked his fingers over JC’s brow, so JC repeated it. “I think I’m lost in myself.”

“I think you know exactly where you are,” Joey said, and it was neither funny nor light-hearted, so JC turned away and closed his eyes. He didn’t fight, though, when Joey just picked him up and put him to bed, and didn’t resist either when Joey lay down beside him with a kiss. He whispered, “see, you’re right here with me, JC. You know exactly where you are, and where you’re meant to be. I’ll never need to doubt that, and I’ll never ask you to prove it to me.”

JC didn’t say anything, and knew he didn’t need to. Joey understood.

Now for Elijah:



I just love this picture. Peter Jackson and his Frodo. so cute.

Story Rec

In Which Billy Boyd Says Stuff

Billy's voice was softer than usual, and he read the names more slowly, letting the syllables lap together like waves. Gentle. Purposeful. Close, so close, as if he was here, sitting on Elijah's bed and whispering in his ear. As if he was pressed against Elijah, curled up around his body, voice sliding into him as his hands dripped over his skin. Elijah shut his eyes and listened, hips twisting at the very idea.

"Smith and Broderick, Incorporated. Sixty one Main Street. Smith, Byron. Nine thousand three hundred two, Crescent Place."

Speaking for him, stretching the words out just for him. Billy was savoring their taste just as Elijah was, savoring this shared moment. Perhaps Billy was imagining that he was whispering these words against Elijah's ear, too, imagining that he was here to touch him, to let the addresses fade into gentle kisses along Elijah's neck...