That meme thingy
Aug. 28th, 2008 06:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pensnestOkay, so that writer meme thingy where you take the first lines of your last twenty-five stories... just for fun, I've mixed mine up. They make interesting little narratives. Possibly.
There was once a young man, son of a wealthy family, whose life was filled with ease and comfort, whose friends were worthy and respectable, and whose future was set fair.
From his seat at the dining room table, Lance could see into the garden.
Did it have to rain?
Lance stared at the television.
His roomie was drumming an impatient tattoo on the kitchen table with a couple of forks, but looked up eagerly when AJ entered the kitchen and set his shopping down on the counter.
JC was holding up a pair of Y-fronts that were surely too big for AJ's skinny frame, and looking indignant.
"So there's something I've been meaning to ask you."
Later that night, or possibly, early the following morning, he wasn't sure, AJ staggered into Nick's tiny bathroom.
Freshly showered, they lay on the bed together, limbs twined.
AJ really, really liked it here.
*
There was somebody in bed with him when he woke up.
Lance settled back into his pillow—mmm, clean sheets, just a hint of something like vanilla that reminded him sharply of nights spent at Mimi's house, maybe the tour laundry used the same detergent—and encouraged Dirk's whiskery investigations of his face and neck, until the little wriggler got bored and began to burrow inside his sweatshirt.
It seemed simple enough to Joey, and really, when you were given a choice like that, it wasn't exactly a hard call to make.
"Dude," said Joey, "this theme is lame."
"See, I've been through all this before."
It was easy with Joey, as Lance had known it would be.
There are some people who say that life is an illusion, and that reality is simply a figment of our imaginations.
*
The first time Justin saw him, Chris Kirkpatrick was standing on a desk in the middle of the Creative Department's chaotic open-plan office, gyrating his hips like a stripper and rapping out a smart line in rhythmic abuse of one of the agency's biggest clients.
It's not usually weird like this.
It was, somehow, an incredibly intimate deal, being in the studio together like this.
"You sure that's okay with you?"
Chris reached up to hook a hand behind Justin’s neck and pull him down for a long, slow, careful kiss.
"These people are weird," said Nick, as they waited in the shelter of the porch while Howie parked the car.
The rock was harsh and scraped his hands, but with a cliff-face this rough and jagged there was no shortage of footholds.
"You were right."
There was once a young man, son of a wealthy family, whose life was filled with ease and comfort, whose friends were worthy and respectable, and whose future was set fair.
From his seat at the dining room table, Lance could see into the garden.
Did it have to rain?
Lance stared at the television.
His roomie was drumming an impatient tattoo on the kitchen table with a couple of forks, but looked up eagerly when AJ entered the kitchen and set his shopping down on the counter.
JC was holding up a pair of Y-fronts that were surely too big for AJ's skinny frame, and looking indignant.
"So there's something I've been meaning to ask you."
Later that night, or possibly, early the following morning, he wasn't sure, AJ staggered into Nick's tiny bathroom.
Freshly showered, they lay on the bed together, limbs twined.
AJ really, really liked it here.
*
There was somebody in bed with him when he woke up.
Lance settled back into his pillow—mmm, clean sheets, just a hint of something like vanilla that reminded him sharply of nights spent at Mimi's house, maybe the tour laundry used the same detergent—and encouraged Dirk's whiskery investigations of his face and neck, until the little wriggler got bored and began to burrow inside his sweatshirt.
It seemed simple enough to Joey, and really, when you were given a choice like that, it wasn't exactly a hard call to make.
"Dude," said Joey, "this theme is lame."
"See, I've been through all this before."
It was easy with Joey, as Lance had known it would be.
There are some people who say that life is an illusion, and that reality is simply a figment of our imaginations.
*
The first time Justin saw him, Chris Kirkpatrick was standing on a desk in the middle of the Creative Department's chaotic open-plan office, gyrating his hips like a stripper and rapping out a smart line in rhythmic abuse of one of the agency's biggest clients.
It's not usually weird like this.
It was, somehow, an incredibly intimate deal, being in the studio together like this.
"You sure that's okay with you?"
Chris reached up to hook a hand behind Justin’s neck and pull him down for a long, slow, careful kiss.
"These people are weird," said Nick, as they waited in the shelter of the porch while Howie parked the car.
The rock was harsh and scraped his hands, but with a cliff-face this rough and jagged there was no shortage of footholds.
"You were right."