Vicdeangelis: Me & My Hoe💘 - 27.11.2022

chris/justin, motionless in white, t, 800 words

"… leaping into the other’s arms" from the semi-NSFW meme. My first Motionless in White fic 🤘 Thanks for the prompt, anon! :) You can find this one on AO3 too.

The cool thing about going from openly-affectionate-bros to boyfriends is that basically nobody bats an eyelash when the openly affectionate shit keeps going. (Well, that’s not totally true. Ryan gets this sly look behind his vape sometimes, like the facial manifestation of tutting ‘heh, gay.’ Like he wasn’t egging them to hook up from the day Justin got Motionless minted for real. Justin just flips him off, it’s all good.)

When Chris comes loping down the otherwise abandoned terminal like a rescue greyhound chasing some fresh frisbee, Justin just braces his knees and throws out his arms to catch him. Chris is kinda obsessed with being picked up, which Justin totally gets. Once you hit the five foot mark as a dude, it’s kinda game over in the uppies department – unless you find someone bigger than you. And before Justin, Chris was usually the biggest motherfucker in the room.

It’s total hell on Justin’s back… but it does great things for his self-esteem, being able to catch Chris and hike him up on his hips for a wobbly ride down the dank, carpeted corridor. Chris is bare faced like he usually is during downtime, so Justin can see splotches patches of pink high on his cheek bones. Even better, when Chris breathes “hey,” it’s in that low, happy rasp that usually precedes a kiss.

Justin’s hard in his joggers.

“Hey, hot mama,” Justin jokes, still toddling along with Chris’s arms snaked around his neck and his warm, heavy, be’sweatered body draped along Justin’s front. He grins. “Ya miss me that much?”

Chris’s eyes go heavy-lidded. “What do you think, asshole?” he asks, and then they’re kissing. With tongue. Like, kind of way more tongue than should be legal in an airport, even if it’s a fuckin’ ghost town at this hour. Justin groans a little, moves a hand to Chris’s butt for a possessive squeeze.

“Where the fuck is the baggage claim?” Ricky grumbles somewhere to their left. Justin stops sucking Chris’s tongue and sneaks a glance at the guys to make sure that, yeah, they’re all just moseying like normal.

“Downstairs,” Vinny says without looking up from his phone. “Hey, do we have, like, a van waiting, or did you Uber here alone?” he asks Chris.

“Van,” Chris confirms, contentedly tucking his face into Justin’s neck. Which basically melts his heart into bubbly goo. One less solid thing for his spine to have to support, he guesses. “They’re circling outside until we get out there.”

“Cool.”

“I know I’m too heavy, I’m just being a greedy bitch,” Chris says lowly. Ryan and maybe Ricky can probably hear him too – everything echoes a little in this utility carpet purgatory – but nobody says anything. (“You’re not heavy,” Justin lies immediately.) Chris butts his beaky nose against the hinge of Justin’s jaw. “I missed being in your arms.”

“My arms missed you being there,” Justin says conversationally. It’s still so fucking weird, doing the cutesy couple talk shit and it’s legit instead of brohomo. His boots clunk extra heavy on the floor because he’s kinda stomping to make room for the big booty koala in his embrace, but like. He’s a corn-fed American, it’s his god given right to be loud for no reason. “I missed you being there.”

“What else do your arms feel about me?” Chris asks, and okay, that’s a silly thing to say, obviously meant to make Justin laugh, but like. Justin’s arms actually have a lot to say on the subject of Chris. How if they could get away with it, they’d never let him go. They’d keep Chris tucked against him even on stage, Justin’s bass slung over Chris’s backside so he could keep playing while Chris yowled into a mic right by his ear. (Justin likes when Chris yowls right by his ear. Hopefully he will be doing it in a hotel bed in the next hour.)

But, uh, the whole stage cuddles idea might actually be too openly affectionate, actually. Codependent. Clingy.

Chris must sense his line of thought, because he breathes a warm laugh against Justin’s neck. Chris wiggles to drop his long legs down and force Justin to let him walk on his own before they get tangled and fall over. Not that Justin’s dick would mind rolling around on the floor together.

“Someone else missed me too,” Chris points out as he loiters all hot and lanky and fat assed against Justin’s front. Jeeesus Christ, this guy.

“Of course I missed you, buddy,” Vinny deadpans without missing a beat, and Chris laughs all the way to baggage claim. Justin’s right on his heels like he’s the rescue dog now, no frisbee necessary to keep his attention.

He has no reason to hoist Chris up while they wait for their bags to come around the conveyor, but nobody but Justin’s back has shit to say.

JUSTIN MORROW in the /c0de live music video

Purity Politics

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Eddie Munson in 4.01 The Hellfire Club

#i think he likes this song #could be wrong tho [src]