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EVOLUTION Disclaimer:
Don’t know them. Not true. No money is made from this venture. Thanks to Sil for the lovely graphic. Chris learned practically from the moment of birth never to expect anything to come easily, at least not to him. It's just not in the cards Fate dealt him. He has every right to be bitter about his childhood, he supposes. He's seen it in his friends from the old days, who got swallowed up by their circumstances and gave in to them. But he's a fighter -- the scrappy one -- and he always knew he'd get out, get away, find something better for himself. Something good and wonderful and perfect, a stark contrast from the world he grew up in. His life experiences could, if he let them, place a vast chasm between himself and the rest of the guys. It's not that they've all necessarily lived lives of privilege, but they've also never known the feeling of hunger as it settles deep in the bones. They've never faced the uncertainty of not knowing where home is, or even where the next night's lodging is going to come from, or the humiliation of going to school in clothes that are torn and dirty and a couple of sizes too small. He's glad they can't relate to that, though. He's glad to be the older, wiser one. All right, so only sometimes wiser, but when they're just starting out it falls to him to be the caretaker. Because, face it, these are just boys. Just kids, and it's his responsibility to keep them together and protect them from the big, bad world. That's the role he's played ever since his sisters came along, and it's what he knows how to do best. He's seen life get pretty mean and nasty, and he doesn't want to ever recognize any awareness of that in JC's step or Justin's eyes or Joey's smile or Lance's laugh. It's Justin who he guards the closest. It's not simply that Justin's the baby, it's that there's something about the way that Justin looks at the world that takes years off of Chris. When Chris is with him, it feels like a weight's been lifted off his chest that he wasn't even fully aware he was carrying. He suspects the others think it's some big brother complex, but Chris knows it's more than that. In Justin, Chris has found a link to his lost childhood, and in Chris, Justin has found someone who's not afraid to give him some space to be a child. They balance each other out. At first, though, Chris *is* little more than a big brother. He helps guide Justin through his teenage years, maneuvering him through the pitfalls of their growing celebrity as best as he can. He's proud of Justin, of the man he's becoming. Then he's Justin's friend. Best friend, maybe. They shoot hoops and try to best each other at Playstation. Justin confides in Chris about how hard his parents' divorce was and Chris tells Justin what it was like for him growing up. They get so comfortable with one another that they can finish each other's sentences. Chris has never trusted anyone like he does Justin, and it's a bit scary. When the lawsuit happens, the carefully constructed shell Chris built to try and keep the group safe and insulated cracks wide open. In retrospect, though, Chris knows the experience only made them stronger. Their collective loss of innocence, while painful at the time, is not an altogether unwelcome change. They emerge from the debacle as brothers in arms, battle-scarred but not world-weary. Justin's eyes shine with a new fierceness, Chris notices. Chris thinks it looks good on him. He finds himself looking at Justin a lot more now, with new eyes. More often than not, Justin will look up and meet his gaze, holding it, steady, until Chris ducks his head and his cheeks flush crimson. He doesn't fully understand this new dance between them. He's vaguely unsettled by it, because nobody's explained the choreography, and he's not even completely sure his body is built to accommodate these steps. Justin was always the dancer, anyway. Chris decides to sit back and let him take the lead. Heading out of the studio one afternoon, where the group had been laying down tracks for the new album, Chris sees Justin resting against the side of his car. He raises an eyebrow but doesn't say anything, reaching around Justin to unlock the door and let him in. They drive in amiable silence back to Chris' house. Inside, Chris opens up the refrigerator door to grab a couple beers, and suddenly feels a hand on top of his. He turns, and there's Justin. Radiant in the half-light, looking at him expectantly. They just look at each other, then, and Chris feels the years of history between them. Sees Justin as a boy, as a teen, as the man he is now, handsome, strong and proud. He sees the fork in the road ahead of them, Justin waiting patiently to see which path he wants to follow. He also knows it's not a choice, because he's loved Justin since the beginning. First as a brother, then as a friend, and now, he realizes, as something far greater than that. He's not sure how it happened, but things evolved. Chris shuts the door to the fridge and the room is cloaked in darkness. He reaches for Justin, and isn't surprised to find arms open and waiting for him. He's pulled into the embrace, and lips find lips and the connection is immediate and stunningly familiar, and Chris knows he'll never, ever have to worry about where his home is again. It doesn't matter that he doesn't know the mechanics of this particular type of relationship, because this is right. It's Justin, and they fit. They always have. It's as easy as breathing, being with him, more natural, even. Chris thinks maybe he was wrong about Fate and her deck of cards, after all. He loves Justin more than he ever would have thought possible. The way his eyes crinkle ever so slightly when he smiles, the way his voice sounds right as he's getting up in the morning, how he likes to sing Al Green songs as loud as possible in the shower. There's also the way Justin can look at him from across a crowded room and with a simple glance make him feel beautiful and loved and whole. He's never been happier. On the road now for the tour, Chris finds himself rising early, just to watch Justin sleep. This space -- these few moments in the early morning hours when night passes into day and all that lays ahead is a blank landscape, simply possibilities -- speaks to him. In a few hours, there will be the hustle and bustle of leaving the hotel, hitting the road, playing a role. But right now, for these precious minutes, it's just him, the coming dawn, a wide open future and the sound of his love breathing in his arms. Yes, Chris thinks. This is about as perfect as it gets. ~fin~ Feedback
cherished || Shadowlands
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