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by Mare
uneasyneighbour@gmail.com
December 2002

 

This, Joey thinks, decidedly sucks. He stares at the shelf full of pastel coloured cardboard boxes and promises himself he'll never ever buy anything that's baby blue or pink or some stupidass girl colour ever again. His sister can be such a fucking bitch. And he wasn't even calling her. He was calling Steve and Steve never would have made him go to fucking Wal-Mart *after* a party, let alone buy fucking tampons. And it wasn't like he was asking for a lot or anything. All he asked her to do was make sure the back door was open so he could get in without waking everybody up.

He makes a face at the mirrored wall.

"Fine, but you owe me." His imitation doesn't sound anything like Janine, who can hit lower notes than he can even, but Joey is not in the mood to be fair. "Stop by Wal-Mart and buy me some shit."

He scratches his chin. His eyes are so fucking red and pretty much all pupil. Tomorrow, when his head is clear and the world isn't spinning like a motherfucking ferris wheel, he's going to come up with a real good way to get her back. Real good way. Yeah. Like maybe he'll videotape her drooling when she's sleeping and give the tape to her boyfriend, or maybe. -- oh, who the hell is he kidding. He's going to buy the damn tampons and not do anything.

Joey is what his mother calls good-natured. His dad says that he just doesn't give a shit. Joey likes his mom's version much better. Truthfully, he's just not into fighting and normally he gets along with his sister all right. It's just that this, right now, is complete and utter bullshit. Why the hell do chicks need all this different kind of crap anyway? It's not like anybody sees it or anything. Fuck it, he's going to pick one and to hell with trying to remember what the fuck Janine asked for.

He picks a pinkish box off the shelf, trying not to look at it closely. The whole period thing is kinda gross if he thinks about it. Luckily not thinking is pretty easy, what with him being on the tail end of a fucking magnificent high. That dude at the party, what's-his-name, didn't bullshit one bit. That pot was something else and more. His nose catches a whiff of something funky, a smell like baby powder, and he sniffs at the box. The label reads 'deodorant,' which explains the smell and he wonders why the hell girls would need--

Oh. And he's buying this shit for his sister. Jesus. He throws the box in the cart. Why the hell did he get a stupidass cart in the first place? Who knows, but now the pink box is lying right in the middle of it. Lying there, lookin' pink and stupid, Joey thinks, and giggles. Yep, he's still kinda high. Thank god for small favours.

He hears strange sounds, like muttering, coming from somewhere close by. There's a guy standing at the other end of the aisle talking to himself. Joey squints to see what the guy is looking at. Condoms. Right on, man, better than tampons, that's for sure. Though the talking to himself -- what a fucking weirdo.

The guy frowns and picks up a box, then puts it back and picks up another. Jesus, Joey thinks. Condoms, dude. Not brain surgery. Just grab a pack already and be on your merry way. Maybe the guy's stuck in a loop and can't get out of it. Joey giggles again and then thinks a condom loop beats the shit out of a tampon loop. He stops giggling but it doesn't matter because the guy didn't hear him. He's still doing his pick-up-a-box-put-it-back-take-another-one routine.

There's something about the way the guy moves, though. Definitely something. He's graceful or whatever and it doesn't hurt that when he reaches up to get a box off the top shelf his shirt comes untucked. The guy seems skinny, but he's not because when he scratches his stomach, showing a thin strip of skin right above his hipbones, there's some positively nice definition there, maybe more than even Joey's got. And then Joey becomes acutely aware of his own dick, which is twitching and eager for something it didn't get earlier because Kel blew him off on account of him cheating, which he didn't even do. Okay, well, he did, but there was no way she could have possibly known for sure.

The guy finally -- fucking finally -- decides on one of the boxes and when he taps a finger against it, grinning wide and sunny, Joey remembers who he is.

His name is JC and he's one of the Mouse Club kids. There're rumours all over that the show is being cancelled. Joey felt kind of sorry for them when he heard. People in school hate them, but Joey thinks it's more of a jealousy thing. He, personally, doesn't think there's much to be jealous about what with the stupid sketches and songs. Joey likes to sing but he likes acting much better. He likes becoming somebody else on stage. And it's not that he doesn't like being Joey Fatone, because being Joey Fatone is pretty fucking great most of the time, but there's this way people look at you when you're on stage and all the lights are shining. He guesses maybe there's something to be jealous about after all. The Mouse kids have that all the time.

JC is still standing at the end of the aisle. Now he's reading whatever the hell is written in tinyass print on the box. For fuck's sake, Joey thinks. There's only so many ways you can use condoms once you get past the stage of filling them with water and throwing them into the girls' locker rooms. And then JC reaches out for something else and doesn't pause at all this time, seems to know exactly what he needs. And that's lube. Nice, Joey thinks, and his dick twitches again.

Joey is definitely an equal opportunity kind of guy. He discovered that sort of by accident. Well, not so much by accident as by how his friend Mark said he could give a better blow job than some blonde in a porn flick they were watching and Joey said, "oh yeah? Prove it, asshole." And then Mark did, which was a surprise but kind of really hot too and Joey had figured a blowjob is a blowjob is a blowjob. He thought maybe it was the booze right after it happened but then decided it wasn't since the whole thing was still positively hot to think about even the next day.

Since then he hasn't always been on the receiving end of things but what the hell. It's still hot and sex is sex and Joey likes sex. A lot. He sometimes thinks that maybe he shouldn't be all that okay with the fucking guys thing; he's seen a couple of his theatre friends having issues and freak outs and drama over it. But then people are idiots like that. And Joey's so not into issues of any kind. He's just mostly into sex.

Another thing Joey is not into is pining and so the lube thing is good. He smiles at himself in the mirror on the wall again and it's not that he's conceited or shit, but he knows what works and what works usually works for him. Besides, now that he remembers JC he also remembers that when they met JC smiled at him and laughed at his Bobby voice and touched his shoulder a lot, leaning in towards him. Maybe he should've paid more attention. He can take care of that now though.

So he starts to walk towards JC but then remembers the stupid tampons. Not the most perfect equipment when you're trying to score. He stares at the box for a minute, wonders what the fuck he should do with the cart and then looks up again, just to make sure that JC hasn't split.

He hasn't. In fact what he's doing is putting a tube of AstroGlide in the inside pocket of his jean jacket.

It's not that Joey is all big on morals or whatever but the Durex that JC has in his hands is like fifteen bucks or something. And then there's the three ninety-nine for the lube. That's just --. It's fucked up, Joey thinks, and then yelps, because the cart he's now completely forgotten about, has rolled backwards and the ice cold of the metal handle is a shock against his hot and all of a sudden sensitive skin.

He doesn't know if JC heard him but when Joey looks up again he's gone. He must have heard him. Hell. Joey catches sight of his face in the mirror again and notices his eyes look normal. He's not even high anymore. Fucking Wal-Mart. He picks up the tampons and heads to the registers.

JC is there. Joey gets in line at the cash register next to his. There's just one woman in front of him but she's got a cart full of junk and of course half the shit she's buying isn't marked and the clerk, who has a huge zit on her chin, keeps calling for price checks.

JC's cashier has dark hair and she's pretty. When she smiles at JC there's a bit of lipstick on her teeth but it's still better than the volcanic zit that Joey's gotten. JC's cashier says something to him and JC shakes a little, like he's giggling, and the back of his neck turns pink. Joey guesses she recognized him. Or maybe she's flirting but then he hears JC say "of course" and "that's very flattering, just give me something to sign" and the girl turns away gets her purse from under the register.

There's just one second when she bends down. One second, but Joey watches JC turn and grab a candy bar from beside the register and shove it in his pocket.

"Is that it?" zit girl says loudly. The woman with the cart is gone and Joey nods, pays and says, "thank you," when she hands him the box in a plastic bag. JC's gone and Joey lets out a sigh he didn't know he was holding and walks to the exit.

It's a million degrees outside even though it's late and Joey is almost instantly covered in sweat. That's fucking Florida for you. And it appears that JC is not only a petty thief but also really fucking stupid because he's standing right outside the store, staring at the sliding doors like he's never seen anything like them before.

"So, they don't pay you enough, or what?" Joey says. How else do you start a conversation with a guy who steals lube and candy?

"What?" There's no recognition in JC's eyes, but he's starting to smile anyway. "Umm, do I know you?" A motherfucking pretty smile, and there's a glint of a promise in it. Just like before but this time Joey is reading that promise loud and clear.

"The lube. And the candy. And I'm Joey, we've met before."

"Oh right. You're--. Joey. I remember," JC's smile broadens and his eyes shine. There's still absolutely no recognition in them. Weird.

"So why the fuck did you do that?"

"Do what?" And okay, maybe he's still high or whatever, Joey thinks, because fuck if JC's face doesn't look honestly puzzled. His smile is the most beautiful and earnest thing Joey's ever seen.

"You swiped that stuff," Joey says anyway, because he can be stubborn like that, and not that he really cares, but fuck, he's not stupid. Or hallucinating.

"No, I didn't," he says, but sounds a little less innocent. "I paid for everything I bought, and I kind of have to go, so." JC sticks out his hand for Joey to shake and shit, how is that that JC's hand is still cool and dry in this weather? Joey's aware that his own hand is huge and clammy against JC's and that maybe he holds on to JC's just a little bit longer than he should've because JC's hand is soft like he's never done a thing in his life.

"Dude. My hand," JC says, not unkindly, and Joey feels himself blush and yep, the hard on is back and JC squints at him for a moment and then smiles.

"I've got this um…joint," he says. "If you want, we could go behind the store and--" His eyes shine.

Joey nods. Fuck it all to hell with the lube and the candy. If nothing else, he's never been the type to turn down free weed.

"I got my car, so I could give you a ride after," he says and JC nods before he even finishes talking,

It's dark and deserted behind the store and they smoke leaning against the edge of the loading dock. JC smiles at him a lot, which Joey takes as good sign, and also brushes his fingers over Joey's hand every time they pass the joint, which he takes as even a better one. By the time they're done JC's smile looks almost catlike, hungry and waiting, and there's absolutely nothing for Joey to mind about that. And when Joey reaches for him, JC fits easily into his arms.

JC, Joey discovers, is a very very flexible guy, which helps an awful lot when they're crammed in the backseat of Joey's car later and Joey's trying to get his own pants off. He's also unexpectedly strong which is even better because he just lifts himself up out of the way, holding perfectly still until Joey's pants are gone. And he does it all while smiling down at Joey, that strange almost feline smile.

Joey really wants to lick JC's mouth. He wants to taste his skin too. He wants to taste all of him, everywhere. His own body feels tingly and light and wanting but there's still all sorts of logistics needing attendance and so he pants heavily instead, mutters, "c'mon c'mon." JC moves closer, shimmies gracefully out of his sweats, and Joey decides that JC's a fucking genius. The lack of underwear earns him a definite thumbs up, which Joey gives him mentally because his hands are too fucking busy elsewhere.

"So the lube," JC says, calm and quiet in his ear. Joey's breath catches but JC is already leaning forward and fishing it out of his jacket. And then he's licking Joey's neck and kind of nipping at his skin. Joey fumbles with the container and he can't really see what he's doing at all but JC still shivers under him, stretches his neck and moans when Joey pushes inside, says something like yes again and then god yes. Joey leans forward and licks the skin on his throat. His ass is sticking to the vinyl seat and he can't really move but then JC puts a hand on his knee, pushes one leg down towards the floor, and everything becomes perfect, just fucking perfect, and he is able to find a rhythm that sets JC sliding against him.

"Yes, baby, oh yeah, god you're just--" Joey hears himself saying, and it's true, JC is *something* and who gives a fuck about the klepto thing? Joey decidedly doesn't. He feels a wet sticky rush of fluid between their bodies a second before he comes and then he just feels fucking awesome, the world exploding in red and white waves behind his eyelids.

It's a little weird afterwards because JC's already sitting on the other side of the seat fully clothed by the time Joey decides to stop trying to find something to wipe himself and the seat off with and just uses his shirt. He gets dressed while JC watches him and waits for him to speak. JC doesn't say anything.

"So," Joey finally says, and JC smiles at him, the sweet smile of before. Joey can't really see his eyes.

They fall into a conversation about nothing and everything on the way to JC's and it's funny, Joey finds out, how JC really seems to know a lot about music and all other kinds of stuff. Joey ends up telling him how he wants to be an actor singing on Broadway one day. JC says, "Totally, you can do it," and tells him that he's heard him sing, that he remembers it. And while Joey kind of doubts it, he decides to believe JC anyway, because fuck it, if anybody can lie and smile as earnestly as JC then there's just something wrong with the world.

JC's building is on the shabby side, but doesn't look totally awful and Joey wouldn't mind being invited inside.

"So I guess I'll see you around," Joey says when JC doesn't offer and grins at the way JC is tucking his shirt in and fixing his pants, like he's got parents to face, which now Joey remembers he doesn't since he met JC's roommate and all.

"Sure, maybe," JC says, kind of distracted. "Except I'm going to LA, so."

That's okay too, Joey thinks, really. It's not like he was gonna wait for a phone call. He isn't a girl for one, and also--

"So the Wal-Mart was like your last shop before packing or something, condoms and lube, just the necessities?" he says before he even thinks, and it comes off kind of snidely and he feels weird again, somehow. He figures it must be all the weed.

"Um. Well, yeah, something like that," JC says, and smiles. "Maybe. Who knows, right?"

"Sure," Joey says and smiles back, because JC's got that kind of smile.

He drives off as soon as JC gets out of the car and now he's positive he's going to get into shitloads of trouble at home because it's almost morning already. It's too late to do anything about it though. Everything has already happened. He's just not going to care.

It's not until he gets home that he notices the brightly coloured candy wrapper on the floor of his car. He throws it in the trash and then he goes inside.