Not Say A Word
By: Rhys

     Joey glances to the heavenly bodies up high -- those dozens of beautiful
women flashing slivers of pale breast while they stand a floor above, picking their prey
-- then looks back around the club, trying to locate Justin in the mass of pretty people. 
Joey's a little drunk, so everything's a bit hazy, but Justin should be impossible to
miss.

     When Joey can't find him, he searches and discovers him in the bathroom,
glaring at the mirror and murmuring to himself, his hips shaking to a silent dance. 
When Joey walks closer, he realises Justin is hitting on the man reflected in the glass,
flashing his pretty boy grin. 

     "Come on, man," Joey says quietly, trying to steer him away from the mirror,
but Justin shakes his head, eyes wide, dilated pupils darting every which way.  Joey
understands that Justin needs to leave the club.

     "But I want him," Justin confesses, like it's some huge secret, and it probably
is because Joey didn't think Justin was into stuff like that, into guys.  "and he wants
me back.  Look how pretty he is, Joey.  I like him."

     Joey smiles and bites back the laugh, big hands folding over the broad
shoulders, leading him out of the bathroom and speaking to him in his ear, like they're
sharing secrets.  "Dude. stop talking.  You're never going to live this down if you
don't."
     
     Justin gives him a big, toothy grin.  "But he's so cute."

     "Yeah, yeah."  Joey waves at JC, who nods and tips his head.  Chris and Lance
are at the bar, trying to out drink each other, and Joey thinks they'd had enough but he
trusts JC to watch out for them, in his own spacey but protective way.  He turns back
to Justin, who's already wandering away, fingers trying to grab at a girl's pink boa. 
"Justin!  Fuck, kid.  Stick by me."

     "Like glue?"  Justin asks, blinking huge eyes, then sidles up to Joey, fitting
under his arm.  Joey nods, rubbing his fingers across the edge of his hair, weary
already.  Outside, it's rainy and cold, and Justin yelps, burrowing deeper.  "Justin,
you're not going to melt."

     "So cold," Justin chatters, fingers twisted in Joey's shirt.  

     Joey nods and gets them walking, hoping the chill will shock Justin into
sobriety.  Joey doesn't know what Justin took, or where he got it, but he's not going
to tell the other guys.  They're drug-free, and Justin sometimes forgets.  Chris is a bad
role model.

     "There he is!"  Justin cries suddenly and runs up to the store window, pressing
his fingers to the glass and beaming at Joey, all grin and bright eyes.  "He's so hot,
Joey.  Look at him."  Justin pulls Joey close, pressing wet lips to the whorls of Joey's
ear.  "I want to be with him."

     Joey smiles hugely.  "Dude.  Sober up.  Please."

     Justin purses his lips, looking suspicious, before grinning again, kissing Joey's
neck.  A deep breath catches in Joey's throat, big and huge, choking him, and Joey
gently peels Justin off, putting him back to the glass.  Justin rubs his cheek against it
and hums.

     "Hey, you.  Do you like me?"  Justin asks his reflection, and Joey stops smiling
because it sounds sad and small and scared.  Running his hand down the shivering
back, Joey soothes him, and Justin drops his head.  "I don't think he likes me."

     "Of course he does," Joey says.

     Justin furrows his brow -- so thoughtful -- scrunching up his face like he has
something important to say.  "Um, Joey?  I think I took something bad, and I'm not
talking that stale stuff.  I took something. small, and white, and um.  I don't feel so
good."

     "It's okay," Joey says, stroking Justin's face, which is hot and clammy, but he
stills looks beautiful, with his pouty red lips and strong jawline. 

     "I just."  Justin closes his eyes.  "I wanna be heard."

     "I'm listening," Joey assures him.

     "I don't know what to say," Justin confesses, licking his lips, and they glisten
in the dim light of the street  as rain pours down his skin, leaving him shining and
ethereal.  Joey is painfully aroused by the wanton look of him.  "And everybody's
talking about Jerusalem."

     "The world is scary right now," Joey says, gently, and Justin nods, solemn and
scared.  Tonight is supposed to be an escape, but Joey isn't sure either of them know
where Justin's run to.  "You can do whatever you want tonight.  You don't have to do
anything."

     "Like, not say a word?"

     "Sure, if you want," Joey says, and laughs a little just because Justin's kinda
funny when he's high on nameless white pills.  Justin smiles brightly and kisses Joey,
softly, right on the lips.  He tastes sweet, like oranges.  "Justin."

     "Joey," he says, "don't be afraid at all, okay?  I just.  I don't have anything to
say, but I have something to give."  Justin chews his lips into his mouth, shy like Joey
knows he can be.  "He wasn't as pretty as you, anyway.  I like you, Joey."

     Joey grins.  "God, kid.  The stories I'm going to have tomorrow."

     "Tell them to me?"  Justin asks, and Joey nods.  "Good.  So stop talking and
um," Justin nibbles a bit on Joey's lower lip, snaking his tongue out to scrape over his
teeth, and Joey grins around the kiss, fingers on Justin's head, rubbing.  

     A group of twenty-somethings are loud in their approach, and Joey grabs
Justin by the waist, putting him behind him and into the shadows.  In the dark, it's not
obvious who they are or what they're doing, but Joey's aware of lingering eyes.  He
pulls Justin into the doorway, out of the rain.

     "I'm high," Justin whispers, leaning up for kisses, and Joey gives them,
watches Justin devour the touches like air he desperately needs, tastes the inside of
Justin's strangely hot mouth.  When Joey dips a hand under Justin's shirt, palming
sweaty flesh, Justin arches up sharply and mews.  "I'm so high."

     "Shh," Joey murmurs, not needing to be reminded because he's addicted to the
slide of Justin's skin under his palm.  So lithe and lean, slippery, and Justin smiles
when Joey kisses his throat, rubbing a leg against Joey's knee.  "You promised to not
say a word."

     Justin squeaks, like he can't believe he forgot, and Joey soothes him, laughing,
touching his sides and the rise and fall of muscled flesh under his silky shirt.  That
calms him down, and Justin sighs sweetly, squirming.  Up above, the rain falls harder,
and Joey is getting wet again but doesn't care at all.

     "Oh no," Justin says suddenly. "Oh no."

     "What, Justin?"  And Joey smiles again, not sure he can stand much more of
this Justin-on-drugs thing.  Joey is a manly type of man, and pretty soon, he's going to
be calling Justin cute because with his wide, startled eyes and silly grin, he's so cute it
hurts.  

     "You didn't know I was bi," Justin says and looks like he might cry.  "Oh no!"

     "Dude, Justin, come on, man.  It's okay," Joey says, kissing his jaw.  "Think
I'd be here with you if I wasn't, too?  It's okay, Justin, it's just fine."

     Justin beams.  "You're so sweet, Joey!"

     Joey clamps a hand over Justin's mouth, eyeing the mixed group walking by,
and he's sure the two girls in the back recognise them.  Justin's yelping, squiggling to
get free, but he's still drugged up, still pretty pliant.  Joey doesn't dare let him go until
they're all gone.

     "I forgot," Justin confesses with a breathy whisper, "I forgot to not say a
word."

     "It's okay," Joey says again and hails a cab as it drives by.  Justin looks at the
car, then looks at Joey, and Joey holds out his hand.  Justin takes it.  "I'm going to talk
you home, then you can say all the things you want, okay?  Then you'll sleep this off,
and we'll talk about it tomorrow."

     Justin nods demurely.  

     It's quiet.

Fin.