jc experiment #1

"Motherfucker!" said JC. "Motherfucking goddamn fuck!"

I grabbed a lock of his hair and tugged on it, to calm him down and get his attention back. The calm thing didn't happen, but it definitely got the attention I was looking for. "Just sit down," I said, tugging harder until he sank down onto the edge of the bed.

"Fuck off, Chris, I'm ranting here," he said, pulling his head away from me, but not before I could give his curl a hard yank. Another time, it might've been foreplay. "The guy's a fucking asshole. A stupid fucking asshole. What was he thinking?"

"I don't know and neither do you," I told him, plunking down next to him and laying flat on my back with my legs hanging over the edge, out of reach of his potentially flailing arms. "He might even have been telling the truth."

"Oh, oh no, that little bastard was not telling the truth, I'll tell you that much," he said, arm flying past where my head would have been. "'I did it for Britney?' No. He did it for his selfish fucker of a self, that's what he did. And he got caught."

"It could be worse."

There was a flush high on his cheeks, and his eyes flashed at me when he looked down. It was really kinda sexy. "No, no it really couldn't be worse. He's in jail, Chris. Fucking jail. And sure they're gonna let him out sooner than later, but that motherfucking punk kid really couldn't have come up with something worse than this to do."

"He could be dead."

The look softened, his eyes lost their hardness even though his lips were still tight. Abruptly he reached up to tug on his own curls compulsively over his forehead. "Oh no, don't you do that. Don't play the fucking death card, you know what that does to me ... "

Of course I knew what that did to him, which is exactly why I played it when I had. "Just relax, JC. I don't want to be thinking about Justin Fucking Timberlake until he's back home and shamefaced and I can repeat everything you just said to his face."

"Like I'll give you that fucking chance," he said, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Like I won't fucking beat you to it."

Calm came over him, even though his muscles were coiled and sweat was beading on his skin and his smile had twisted up into a smirk. I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down and crushed my lips to his.

"Crazy motherfucker," he said. "The both of you. Crazy motherfuckers."

Thankfully, his foul mouth was good for more than just talking.

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