by Hayley

The fucking was mechanical. At best.

There was no "damn, baby, you feel so good" and certainly no "I love you."

Hell, he was lucky if JC even acknowledged his presence. Pretty amazing feat. It's hard to ignore the sweaty body underneath you.

Yes, JC is serious. Yes, JC is introverted. Yes, JC is known for being quiet and intense.

But that didn't even come close.

Justin searched for signs of life, every day, and found none.

No words spoken before fucking. None after. Only the most cursory of words during: "yes", "not that", "move this way."

Justin felt like he was having sex with a corpse.

Everyone thought JC was bland, boring.

Justin though JC was dead.

He'd given up all hope of hearing those three little words a long time ago. JC wouldn't even say his name. Silence, nothing, non-reaction.

JC treated him the same as he did the other guys. Except when they were alone. Except when they were in bed. Night of the living dead.

Justin talked all during sex. Surely that would get a reaction. JC wouldn't just not answer him, would he?

Damn straight.

If he'd been a stronger person he would've ended it. Anyone can spot a relationship this destructive at twenty paces.

But every night he fucked the corpse.

And every night he wanted to scream.


Justin watched him.

The photographer snapped away, the guys stared ahead and smiled.

Justin watched him, his eyes focused on the side of JC's head, willing JC to look at him.

*Look at me*

Cold blue eyes focused on the lens, an almost-smirk playing on the lips.

*Acknowledge me, you fucker*

"Justin, could you look at me please, look at the camera."


Louder than he thought he was capable of, vocal chords screaming in pain, neck muscles tightened, a nice little vein popping out on his forehead. And his eyes never left the side of JC's head.

His scream echoed thoughout the warehouse studio, while all eyes were on him, widened in surprise.

All except one pair. That never broke their gaze. That never even flinched at the screaming in his ear. Then they blinked.

Seemingly independent from his body, JC's head slowly turned to the left and Justin was reminded of The Exorcist.

Blue met blue.


No inflection.

And the eyes turned forward again, the head following.

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