[  Stolen Moments ]

JC looked, too, and groaned, closed his eyes against the sight. Long, slender fingers – promises lurking of a lot of future growth spurts – touched him, sending chills skittering along his nerve endings. Further down, golden skin melded with his own paleness, testimony of how closely against him Justin pressed.



[  Quiet Moments ]

Then there were the sounds, like now, soft whispers of noise, an auditory stroke against his nerve endings, like fingers over skin. And when he stroked *his* fingers over Justin, those whispers rose, in volume and pitch, a song without words that spoke directly to all parts of JC.



[  One Moment at a Time ]

He watched Justin for a while, eyes following each movement hungrily.  It'd been weeks – at least – since they'd had time for more than a kiss or two, each one stolen hastily when backs were turned or lights were out.  The only thing that made it even remotely bearable was being able to curl up against each other in the van, going to and from shows, because all five of them curled up together then, as much as possible.

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