nanowrenlet: (Justin)
nanowrenlet ([personal profile] nanowrenlet) wrote2003-11-17 10:44 pm

(no subject)

It wasn't exactly goodbye-sex because neither of them were going anywhere, and anyway Knox made it perfectly clear that hey, they were still friends, Justin could call him any time if he wanted to hang out or something. They just weren't going to have sex anymore. It did still sort of feel like a goodbye to Justin, though he didn't say it, and if Knox felt the same... well, he didn't say, either. He just spooned up behind Justin, in the small hours of the morning after they had fucked and talked and fucked some more, and Justin stayed.

If Rube thought anything of it, when Justin showed up late for breakfast the next morning, he didn't say so and that was just fine by Justin.

The restaurant was fine. Charlie's was fine. Justin and Knox did all the same things they'd done before, only with less kissing, no groping on smoke breaks, and no going home together at the end of the night. Gray either didn't notice or didn't care, and oddly enough it was Curt who'd somehow find some way to strike up a conversation with Justin whenever Knox and Eric started making eyes at each other, which, after about the first week? Was -all- the time.

The weirdest part was that Knox -- outgoing, flirty Knox, Mr. "Can I cheer you up? No strings." himself -- seemed to be almost... courting Eric. As in, he hadn't taken him home and had his way with him yet, and to a guy who'd gone from first kisses to rim jobs to marathon sex in a single night that just seemed... yeah, weird. It -was- kind of cute, though, on the days it didn't make Justin want to lock them in the utility closet together and yell, "Fuck, already!" And hey, if it was working for them -- and it did seem to be -- then who was Justin to say they were going about it wrong?

Eric did go through a phase where he would sort of look at Justin with his eyes all wide like he thought Justin might be mad at him, or -should- be mad at him, and finally Justin had dumped a bowl of cocktail peanuts down the back of his shirt one night and told him to get the fuck over it, already. Eric had turned beet red, but then Justin grinned and everyone started laughing, Knox tucked Eric under his arm and winked at Justin, and it was fine.

Justin started spending more time on Liberty Avenue, and that was fine, too. He still called Knox sometimes, though maybe not as much as before. But when he was in a mood to get stoned, or just hang out and -be- with someone who wasn't either a reaper or already dead, sprawl on the couch and talk about nothing in particular, he'd dial Knox's number.

One night Justin did exactly that, and got an out-of-breath Knox on the other end. "Hey, I was just wanting... oh. Oh!"

"Uhm-"

Justin sat straight up on his bed and gasped. "He's there, isn't he? Eric's there! Are you fucking yet?"

Knox's voice was muffled, like maybe he'd stuck his face into a pillow, and he sounded mortified. "Oh, God."

"Forget I called!" Justin slammed the phone down with a yelp and fell back onto his bed, giggling. Somehow, as strange as it sounded, the thought of Knox and Eric finally getting it on was the best news he'd had in weeks.

The next day at the restaurant, Justin smirked and Eric blushed and Knox kissed Justin on the forehead and told him, "You are so fucking weird," like that was news to anyone.

[612/1283/31983]

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