Domesticity
by bg
"You know," JC began, kicking
idly at the elevator doors, "There is a severe lack of hot boys in this
building." Giving the doors one final kick, JC looked at his roommate for
confirmation.
"I hear ya, man," Brian, JC’s straight-as-a-ruler roommate agreed, grinning
easily. "We do seem to live in a building full of old women and their
overweight cats, don’t we?"
The elevator shook slightly as it came to a stop at the first floor. Before
Brian stepped into the lobby, he looked back at JC and waved. "See ya later.
Have a fun night of laundry and girly movies."
JC laughed good-naturedly. "You know I will, man. You know I will. Say hi to
Leigh for me, ‘mkay?"
"Will do."
The doors closed again and JC shifted the laundry basket on his hip as he
waited for the elevator to reach the basement.
Quietly singing "Big Yellow Taxi" under his breath, JC sorted through his
clothes, carefully separating his darks from his lights, and turning all of
his graphic tees and embroidered jeans inside out. He was so absorbed in his
task that he didn’t even notice that he was no longer alone in the laundry
room. A fact that was only brought to his attention when he noticed there was
now someone quietly singing Joni Mitchell right along with him.
At the sound of the voice, absolutely gorgeous and slightly higher than his
own, but still distinctly masculine, JC stopped singing. Turning around, he
was rendered momentarily speechless by a pair of deep brown eyes. He blushed
and fumbled awkwardly for a moment before he gathered the presence of mind to
extend his hand. "Hey man, I’m JC."
The other man flashed a grin, wide and friendly and infectious, while he
carefully inserted his $1.75 into the washer. "Howie. Nice to meet ya."
"Pleasure," JC replied, grinning and walking over to the exchange table.
Digging through the trinkets, JC had to nearly stop himself from squeaking out
loud at the sight of a well-loved game of Battleship that was sitting at the
back, buried below what appeared to be three hundred pounds of gold ribbon and
romance novels. Unable to help himself, JC tucked the game under his arm.
He walked towards the door and saw Howie looking at him, his eyebrow raised
and grinning.
"Where you going with my battleship game, huh?"
"This was yours?"
"Yeah, but it was kinda pointless to have it sitting around collecting dust in
the apartment, since I haven’t been able to convince anyone to play with me in
forever... Didn’t imagine it would be such a hot item, though."
"Battleship, dude. That’s only, like, the foundation for my entire
childhood." JC quickly glanced at his watch. "Oh, its nearly nine o’clock."
"Hot date?" Howie asked.
"Oh yeah. Me and HBO, man."
"Same here. Well, and doing my laundry. And, I might even tackle the bathroom
if I think I can handle the excitement."
JC grinned as he held the door open for Howie. Stepping onto the elevator JC
pushed the button for five and took special care to notice that Howie pushed
eight.
When the doors opened on the fifth floor, JC said a small goodbye to Howie
who, as the doors were closing called, "Have fun watching Patrick Swayze teach
Jennifer Gray how to dance tonight."
JC called back, "Thanks." He thought about the exchange for exactly another
half of a second before he turned around and hit the ‘up’ button on the
elevator, causing the doors to open and reveal Howie staring at him, smirking.
"What did you say?"
Howie laughed, smiling wide. "Dude. HBO, nine o’clock? Me too. Man, I watch
Dirty Dancing every time it’s on."
JC tried not to blush, but failed miserably.
Summoning up any and all spontaneity and courage he had, JC ducked his head
and asked, shyly, "Say, you wouldn’t want to come and watch Baby get put in a
corner and blow up little plastic submarines with me, would you?"
"I think that sounds like an offer I can’t refuse," Howie replied, winking
flirtatiously and stepping off the elevator.
"Wrong movie, man." JC said, leading the way to his apartment.
"Maybe we’ll watch that one next time." Howie replied, falling easily into
step beside him.
[Loose End, or I Just Really Wanted Them To Be In A Garage Band] * saabira