Done! :)

[giddygeek]

OK, so, the crackbaby's being posted before anyone else says, "Stop being stupid, Stupid." *G*

There are big thanks due to kaneko, who did the read-through for most of the story and amused me by laughing at all the right places. She also helped with the not-right places, and I'm glad. Thanks are also due to mickeym, who didn't run away screaming when I asked for her opinion. There are others who read pieces of this before I was convinced it was worth sending anyone the whole. They laughed, which encouraged me, and I hope they know better now. ;-)

Also. My friends' list is a remarkably pleasant place to be but it seems that there are others who are not so lucky. *hugs the friends' page.* I think y'all rock, and I've honestly got to say, this fandom has been so warm and wonderful to me that I have a hard time imagining that it's not all sweetness and joy and hot snarking. :) Any of you need a dose of determined good cheer and/or utterly random conversation, you know where to find me. *G*

Right, anyway:



*****
Never Before Seen, Pt 4
by Giddy
giddygeeky@aol.com
which follows Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3
*****

In Justin's rec room, Lance slowly unwraps Chris' legs from around his waist. They sink to the floor with a groan that sounds like a song, harmonized and full of feeling. They lay back and Chris tucks his face against Lance's neck, breathes through his mouth slowly, trying to prevent a heart attack.

Lance shifts against him, curls an arm around Chris' back. Then he says, "Well. You know. It is kind of...artsy," and Chris turns his head to follow Lance's gaze.

He's looking at the wall, where blue and red paint is smeared in every direction. There are several distinct impressions of Chris' back and ass.

"We'll leave it like that," he says, grinning, and Lance laughs. Says, "Why don't we make it even better? I think Frank left some green paint around here somewhere."

Chris hums, interested, and looks around. The green paint is indeed in the room, tucked in a corner. There's a full gallon of it.

He jumps up and reaches a hand down to help pull Lance to his feet. "Good idea," he says, grinning, and then he smacks Lance on the ass. "But this time, it's your turn to be the paintbrush."

Lance eyes him.

"What? Green's totally your color, man," Chris insists, his grin edging wider. But Lance's hand slips across his hip, down the curve of his ass, and does something that makes Chris' head drop backwards and his mouth open wide.

"Are you sure?" Lance asks calmly. "You don't think that shade'll clash with my eyes?"

"You just wanna stay clean," Chris mutters, and Lance laughs.

"Oh, no," he says, his voice amused, his hands flexing, making Chris grin and shudder simultaneously. "I really, really think I'd like to get dirty. Again."

*****

Justin opens his eyes, stretches, groans. His skin feels like it was worked over with sandpaper, between Joey's facial hair and the carpeting that covers the couch cushions. Joey shifts underneath him.

"I think that maybe I do like them better this way," he decides. Justin laughs.

"How could you?" he asks, rolling over and propping himself up so that he can look in Joey's eyes. "The last time I had sex with someone on Chris' couch, I managed to leave myself more than one layer of skin. Times after this one, probably no."

Joey grins at him. "The last time I had sex with someone on Chris' couch, we left a stain. We had to flip over the cushions," he says, and Justin groans. "This stuff though, it must be practically indestructible!"

"Maybe we should leave it, then," Justin says. Joey's grin widens.

"Leave it like this, then come over and fuck on it a lot?" he asks, eyes gleaming devilishly, and Justin grins back. Sounds good to him. Especially the fucking a lot part. He lowers his head to kiss Joey again, saying, "I need some rugburn on my knees, man, gotta even out the redness," and Joey laughs against his mouth.

*****

Ty blinks, forces his eyelids to stay up, dammit, unless they want him to find the glue--and he sees JC looking at him, smiling, the dark blue of his eyes not faking innocence at all anymore. "Uhmmmm," he says intelligently, and JC's smile widens.

"Has anyone ever told you how gorgeous you are?" he murmurs quietly, and Ty blinks.

"People," he says dazedly, and JC frowns a little.

"Who?"

Ty blinks. That almost sounded...possessive. Like JC wanted to think that he was the first person to see his attractiveness. "No," he says slowly, trying to puzzle this out. "People. Like the magazine."

"Oh," JC says, and he frowns. Ty reaches up and pulls JC down, kissing him hotly as a distraction, and then wondering what the hell made him think that might be a good idea as JC hums with pleasure and slides his slick tongue inside Ty's mouth.

Then JC is rolling him over, reaching out to sweep tools and stuff out of their way before settling himself against Ty's back, hot and heavier than he should be, his dick hard hard hard against Ty's ass. He pushes back, can't help himself, and stops thinking about good ideas as he starts to think pretty much exclusively about getting JC back inside him.

"All this stuff is so sexy," JC mutters, biting at his shoulderblades. "All the power tools and the saws and mmm, the hammers." Then he starts singing, "I'm gonna hammer in the morning, hammer in the evening," sweetly, although his voice is kind of muffled what with his mouth being pressed hot and wet against the small of Ty's back.

Ty drops his head on his folded arms and laughs. But then JC's tongue is pressing flat against his ass, JC's fingers sliding inside him. Sliding out, and making room for JC's dick. Ty pushes up and JC pushes down; between the two motions they manage to find an acceptable rhythm--

And then JC takes it up a step. "Sledgehammer," he half-sings, half-pants as his hips move faster and faster. "Why don't you call my name?"

And Ty does.

*****

Paige, Frank, Doug and the cameramen are sitting at the edge of the pool in Justin's backyard. The cameramen and Frank are dangling their feet in. They're all staring at the water, which is shaded pink by the setting sun. Frank keeps thinking he sees something moving beneath the surface, but it might be the alcohol speaking, so he just ignores the sensation of something brushing up against him and takes another deep drink, passes the bottle to Paige.

"We'll never be able to air this," she says sadly before taking a sip, coughing, and passing the bottle back to Frank, who takes another quick gulp.

Doug sighs. "Maybe we'll be able to edit it? Or start fresh tomorrow?"

Jim shakes his head. "There isn't enough time. The schedule's too packed. We're not going to be able to edit this mess into anything approaching airable," he says.

Frank says, "Edit it into straight-out porn, anyway. Sell it on eBay." No one asks how Frank knows if you can buy gay porn on eBay.

"Porn then. We'd never have to work again." Paige is trying to be optimistic, but Doug chokes out a laugh.

"Did you see the size of that guy they call Tiny?" he asks, and everyone nods. "Imagine that coming to your house in the middle of the night and asking if you maybe, possibly, know anything about a little videotape making its way across the globe."

Everyone pauses, thinks. As a group, they shudder and shake their heads.

"We'll burn the footage," Frank says, his voice husky with something that maybe sounds like sadness, except no one wants to analyze it that far. "Burn it and forget it. Forever. As in never, ever talk about it again."

"As in, never look at Ty again," Doug says, and Paige heaves a huge sighs. Silence falls, and the sun sets a little more, turning the pool red. Frank can't stand it anymore; he pulls his feet out and the cameramen follow his lead, also oddly uneasy.

Inside the house, just as the sun sets completely, there's a sharp sound, a high, unmuffled cry. No one at the pool's edge moves, although several pairs of shorts change shape and the fine hairs on Paige's arms rise. Then Frank says, "Right. Anyone else hungry?" and they scramble up, moving fast for the vans. They're all babbling about Chinese versus Mexican--but that's just a cover, a reason for getting away--

Far, far away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~
Day 2 (epilogue)
~~~~~~~~~~~~

"We pretty much fucked up the schedule, huh?" Chris says when they gather in Justin's kitchen for breakfast. Lance pours himself coffee and gets Chris a glass of juice, then sits, leaning casually against him.

"We have one wall almost painted," he points out, like that's an accomplishment. "We could get the rest done today. Or, you know, today and tomorrow. We'll just consider yesterday...a false start."

Chris digs an elbow into Lance's side. "We will not. We so will not, shut your mouth." He's grinning. "Yesterday was a perfectly acceptable start and you know it."

"Acceptable? Maybe," Lance agrees, grinning back. "With room for improvement. We could just take the next couple days to practice."

"Prick," Chris mutters. "I'll show you room for improvement--"

Lance ducks his head, his grin widening. "You saying you don't want to practice?"

"I'm saying I was perfect and you need remedial lessons," Chris says. "Your painting technique? So needs work. You barely got coverage on that wall."

"I'd think that's more your fault than mine since you were the one with the paint," Lance protests, and Chris leans over, bites at his earlobe. Whispers something that makes Lance laugh and blush at the same time.

Ty, seated across from them at the table, blinks and turns to JC. "They're not talking about decorating, are they," he says, sotto voce and JC looks up from the massive croissant he'd been tearing into little pieces, shrugs.

"Could be," he murmurs before holding a ragged piece of pastry up, waiting for Ty to open his mouth. His thumb catches on Ty's lower lip and he lets it stay there, smiles. "With those two, who knows?" Ty swallows and JC leans in, kisses his mouth quickly before feeding him more pastry.

Justin's pretty much down head-first in a bowl of oatmeal and mumbles something almost incomprehensible, pointing at Lance. Joey laughs, hooks an arm around his neck, gets pushed weakly but it's obvious Justin doesn't mean it. Joey doesn't go anywhere, just laughs again. "I'm with Justin and Jayce on this one," he tells Ty. "Could be decorating. Could be sex. Could be world domination. Only they know what they're really talking about."

"Well, we can certainly tell what you morons are talking about," Chris mutters, reluctantly pulling himself away from Lance's earlobe. "You're all talking total non-accomplishment. Did any of you get anything done yesterday?"

"Half a bookcase," Ty says. He doesn't sound proud, exactly, but there's definitely no regret in his voice. He feeds JC a piece of the croissant and JC hums a little, swallows, says, "I helped with the nails."

"I bet you did." Chris blinks when JC kicks him under the table. "What'd I say?" he protests, voice full of aggrieved innocence, and Lance touches his shoulder, just a gentle brush of fingertips.

"You made what could have been construed as a sarcastic inference about JC's activities yesterday," he says wisely. Chris blinks again.

"Well, I certainly didn't mean to. I meant that I totally believe JC nailed something yesterday," he says, and then he jerks his leg away from JC's next kick, snickering.

"We got half of your couch reupholstered," Joey says, grinning across the table at Chris as Lance turns him sideways, pulls his legs up so that JC can't reach them under the table anymore.

Justin pushes aside his bowl and shakes his head once, briskly, which typically means that he just really started functioning. He says, "Well, before Doug took off and we got, you know. Distracted," and then he turns his head to smile at Joey. When he does, the beard burn on his neck is so obvious that Chris chokes on his orange juice and Lance has to smack him on the back a couple times--helpfully, of course. Joey laughs but Justin's head whips around and he glares at them, crosses his arms over his chest. "Oh yeah? Well, what did you hotshots get done yesterday?"

Chris says, "We painted a wall," and when he turns the innocent blink in Justin's direction, Joey curses and scrambles out of the way, fast. It wouldn't do for Justin to break important parts of his body when he clambers out from behind the table and bolts down the hallway.

"So help me, if you ruined--" Justin yells as he runs, and then there's a bang and Chris turns his head, his shoulders shaking as he buries laughter against Lance's neck. Lance calmly sips at his coffee. Silence from down the hall, and Ty turns to JC with raised eyebrows. "There are bandages under the sink in case of bloodshed," JC says quietly, grinning.

Joey nods. "We go through about two boxes a month."

"Me too," Ty says, holding up a hand. He's bent down three of his fingers at the first knuckles the way every carpentry guy and crazy uncle on the planet does and he adds, "Every time I hack one of these suckers off, it takes a whole box of Barney to stop the bleeding--"

Everyone at the table probably would have laughed if Justin hadn't chosen that moment to start shrieking. He's inarticulate and at a higher pitch than even Chris could have managed, and Joey gulps. "I think I hear my name in that somewhere," he says grimly, staring across the table.

"Better go then," Lance says. "Justin might need you."

Joey scowls, points. "You just want me to hold him back so he doesn't kick your asses." Lance grins and Chris shrugs, doesn't deny it. Joey looks to Ty and JC for help but JC has two of the fingers Ty'd bent in his mouth. There's obviously no help coming from that quarter so Joey sighs, heads for the door. "I hate you guys," he says mournfully as he passes into the hallway, then there's a skidding sound and a thud; he slams into the wall as Justin slams into him at a dead run.

Joey groans and puts his hand to the back of his head as Justin untangles himself, babbling apologies, and looks into the kitchen. Chris and Lance duck a little, instinctively, ready to crawl under the table if Justin should happen to start throwing things--but it's an unnecessary precaution. Justin's smiling.

"You guys fuckin' rock," he says, and then he turns to Joey again, wraps a hand around Joey's wrist and starts towing him toward the rec room. "It's like this crazy-ass mural," he says to Joey, voice full of excitement, and Chris leans back against Lance's shoulder. He's laughing so hard that Lance has to put down his coffee or risk splashing it all over the place.

"Crazy-ass mural," Lance repeats, and then he starts laughing too, a quiet little sound so devious and moronic at the same time that it draws Ty's attention away from the fingers JC is busily sucking.

"Do I want to know?" he asks warily.

Lance shakes his head. "No. And if you don't want anyone else to know--which I think you probably don't--I'd get in there and disable those cameras. Destroy any footage. Trust me."

A sound caught between a growl and a moan floats into the kitchen from down the hallway and Ty's eyes widen nervously. "Um," he says. "Maybe later."

"Maybe much later," JC says in his ear, and the look in Ty's eyes goes dazed as JC pulls him out of his seat and pushes him out of the kitchen. "We're going back to the garage," JC says over his shoulder. "We didn't. Didn't finish building our bookcase." Ty murmurs something indistinctly and JC laughs, says, "What are you saying--you didn't like my technique? You can show me yours again, if you want to," and then the door to the garage slams shut.

In the sunlit kitchen, it's quiet for a while, except for what sounds like maybe JC singing in the garage and Justin moaning in the rec room. Chris sits up, finishes his orange juice, then turns to Lance again. "You were saying something about practice, Bass?"

Lance looks at him, light eyes gleaming. He says, "Sure. How do you feel about murals in the kitchen?"

"Sounds like good design work to me. But you know what." Chris slides beneath the table. He puts his hands on Lance's knees, slides them in and up, light against his thighs. His eyes gleam when Lance smiles for him. "For this one," he says, "let's not even bother with paint."

Lance tips his head back, Chris' busy fingers on his zipper getting him closer to exactly where he needs to be. His own fingers are carding through Chris' hair, finding nothing to grip but liking the feel anyway. "That sounds like a plan," he murmurs, and then he closes his eyes with a shuddering sigh. Chris has the best plans ever.

~~~~~
End
~~~~~

Comments

[gblvr.livejournal.com]

SQUEE! You rock like Bob! This is so funny - I was LOL at several parts, but really, I think this is my favorite:

"Half a bookcase," Ty says. He doesn't sound proud, exactly, but there's definitely no regret in his voice. He feeds JC a piece of the croissant and JC hums a little, swallows, says, "I helped with the nails."

"I bet you did." Chris blinks when JC kicks him under the table. "What'd I say?" he protests, voice full of aggrieved innocence, and Lance touches his shoulder, just a gentle brush of fingertips.

"You made what could have been construed as a sarcastic inference about JC's activities yesterday," he says wisely. Chris blinks again.

"Well, I certainly didn't mean to. I meant that I totally believe JC nailed something yesterday," he says, and then he jerks his leg away from JC's next kick, snickering.

Hee. I love this! Great stuff, girlie, great stuff.

[giddygeek.livejournal.com]

You know, I've always wanted to rock. Rocking like Bob, man, that might be too much for me though!

Hee, or maybe not. ;-) But anyway, I'm so glad that you enjoyed the story (even though you enjoyed it like, 2 weeks ago and I'm just now getting around to saying thanks!) I appreciate knowing, very much. Thank you!

[suzy_queue]

Oh, man, I loved this story! Cracked me up the entire time. <.g> I'd quote favorite bits, but, you know, dont have space to do pretty much the entire story. <.g> Loved Justin's shrieks with Joey's name in it, though. Fun, fun story. : )

[giddygeek.livejournal.com]

Awww, thank you! I swear, I've never laughed harder in my life than while I was writing this one. Laughed harder at myself, anyway. ;-) But I'm glad you enjoyed it. Thanks again!

[joeynerd.livejournal.com]

Crazy-ass mural! Ha!

This was fantastically funny. Good job. :)

[giddygeek.livejournal.com]

Hee! That part made me snicker. I was showing the story to people all, "See? Crazy-ass mural? Crazy? Chris? And his ass? And a mural? Seeeeeeee?" and everyone was like, yeah, shut up, we get it. Subtle, no. *G* But I enjoyed it and am very glad that you did too. :) Thank you!

[trixiesfic.livejournal.com]

This story was mucho fun! Thanks!

Heh heh... crazy-ass mural. Bwahahaha!

[giddygeek.livejournal.com]

It was fun. At least, I had fun, and some other people with apparently crack-addled brai--I mean, interesting brains--also had fun. Mission complete! *G*

I'm glad you enjoyed it. Thank you. :)

[kiffle.livejournal.com]

I love the crackbaby! Wheeee!

[giddygeek.livejournal.com]

Dude. Thank you. I'm glad you liked it. And honestly, what's not to love about crackbaby fic? I mean, it's loopy and bizarre. What fun! *G*

[sparklewitch.livejournal.com]

That would be footage worth having.
I'd never watched Trading Spaces, but I watched last night (or night before) just to see what Ty looked like.
Great story.

[giddygeek.livejournal.com]

Wouldn't that just be the best footage ever? Mmmmmm. *G* I'd face a 7ft 400lb man named Tiny for a crack at it, that's for sure. Heh.

Glad you liked! Thank you. :)

[owlrigh.livejournal.com]

Just got around to reading all this -- so funny! Glad there's no-one around the house or I'd get heads popping in to see just how cracked I am :D

[giddygeek.livejournal.com]

LOL. But if there were people around to see how cracked you were, you'd have good reason to join the support group I'm thinking of starting--Outed CrackBaby Ficcers. I'm thinking it'd be a great LJ community!

Anyway. *g* Thank you! And really, I'm glad no one was around, if you were. ;-)

[bon1138.livejournal.com]

This was so good. I loved it all. It was so funny. =)

[giddygeek.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it. I spent far too long hovering over it, and was afraid no one else would find it funny at all. Yay for not being alone in my amusement! ;-)