Justin/JC snippet
by Shine

It was sunset, late sunset in February and it was a bit cold out, but neither of them really cared. "Cold", at least in Florida, wasn't a patch on "cold" in Germany, or Utah, or Minnesota, or some of the other places they'd been where cold wasn't just a temperature, it was a lifestyle.

The bench was out under some wisteria, now dormant for the winter, and next to a huge bush of hibiscus that in the summer were huge and pink and gorgeous. They made the yard seem tropical. The grass was dark green, nearly black in the dim light, but thick and soft. JC had a timer that watered it every four days, at four in the morning even when it was winter and they didn't need to conserve water.

JC was wearing loose flannel pants and flip-flops, and a thin, worn t-shirt. It wasn't much, but he was less easily chilled than Justin. Justin was wearing a long-sleeved henley and jeans, and sneakers with no socks, and he had his arm around JC's shoulders for warmth. Justin's heat soaked through the sturdy waffle-weave fabric, the threadbare cotton, and into JC's back, and Justin made a soft happy sound and relaxed minutely.

JC wiggled his toes, then kicked his flip-flops off and rubbed his feet in the icy grass. It had rained earlier in the evening, but the clouds had blown away quickly, and now a faint sliver of moon and a few intrepid stars fought for prominance against the ground-based glow of Orlando.

Justin tugged JC closer, and JC obligingly snuggled in. Justin wasn't shivering, but the strip of skin where his shirtsleeve had pulled up was goosebumped. JC bent his head and kissed the exposed skin, felt hair crisp and rough againt his mouth, and withdrew with a lick. Justin shivered then, and his hand feathered down JC's side, fingers spreading and palm molding to the curve of rib and waist and hip.

A plane flew overhead, and a faint cry arose, coming from the house behind them. JC sat up a little, and cocked his head to the side, listening intently. It faded after a few seconds, though, and the night was still again.

Justin stroked JC's arm. JC was still tense, alert. "It's okay," he said, voice a murmur, barely louder than the hum of winter-tough insects and the rustle of wind in leaves. "She's fine."

"I guess," JC said after a minute more, and turned his head, smiling at Justin.

Justin grinned, and his teeth were a slash of white in the darkness. "She's a tough kid," he said easily, and kissed JC. The kiss lingered, light with tongue and licking, tender and affectionate. "She takes after her daddy."

"Both of them," JC said, and felt Justin's big hand as a brand against his side, reassuring and casual. He settled back, Justin hot at his back, and blinked contentedly at the night sky.