3 September 2004
Canadian Idol 2
Kalan/Jacob
NC-17

He's always trying to fit it into his experience.

Disclaimer: None of this is true.  Not one word.  I'm just a dirty girl with a dirty mind.




All ideas of glamour aside, it's mostly like being at camp.  They get together with strangers, sleep in bunk beds (whose cutesy idea was that?), participate in forced group activities, and smile a lot.  It's not the worst camp in the world -- not like, say, Bible camp in the mosquito-raddled woods, which Kalan and Theresa have both suffered through and don't talk about now.

But it's also like Bible camp in that you can drag people off into a big group sing.  Somebody (who? no one can remember now) brought in a call-and-response version of "Amazing Grace" that they've adopted as part of vocal warm-ups.  Sustained notes and cooperation to carry it through.  When they have to wait, between stunts and practice and whatall, they can sit on the floor and sing it.

It's devastatingly cute.  They'll be televising it any minute now.

That's the part that's like good camp -- band camp, theatre camp.  Something like that, that you'd actually ask to be sent to.

The next camp-stage after singing, as everybody knows, is hugging.  You lose all your personal space and start cuddling into whoever's nearest.  Ten people on a couch!  Six people in the bathroom, to see what the acoustics are like!  Pajamas and popcorn at 3 a.m..  You can kiss into the hair of people you just met and it's incredible, intense, and you almost think you're in love.

And then people drop out and the house gets empty, and you cuddle up more, so you won't shiver at being alone on the wrong side of the country, with everyone staring at you twice a week.

There are rules.  Bedtimes are set for anyone who wants to stay pretty enough to be on TV.  So eventually Theresa hugs them all and scampers off to bed, and the guys have to go too.

They had to share rooms at the beginning.  They don't anymore.  (Jacob wanders around humming Weird Al Yankovic's "Nature Trail to Hell"

there's a homicidal maniac who finds a cub scout troupe
and he hacks up two or three in every scene.
please don't reveal the secret ending to your friends . . .)

It's enough to make a person afraid of the dark.  Bad enough the howling in the theatre makes your ears ring, now there are invisible maniacs stalking the halls whenever the lights are out.

Kalan's had the lights out probably two minutes when Jacob comes barrelling through the door and lands on him.  "Get up and play with me."

"I'm in bed."

"Yes.  Hence the get up part."

"It's late."

"No it isn't.  Live a little."

"I want to sleep."

"No you don't.  God, they really did only send you to Bible camp, didn't they?"

"What?  Bible camp was fun."

Jacob probably gives him a look, but it's very, very dark in there.  "Everyone at Bible camp behaves.  All the time."

"We toilet papered the counsellors' cabin."

"When I went to camp, the whole point was to do dirty things after the lights went out."  He knows Jacob's grinning.  He can feel the mouth-curl when Jacob bends over and licks Kalan's ear.  "Play with me."

"Um."

"Pleeeeease?"

To do at camp: get poison ivy, drink bug juice, lose virginity.

That last one got done a while ago, but still.  It's the principle of the thing.

Jacob kisses him.  Wet and messy, and he's still grinning.  His lip-ring's almost-not-quite sharp, and it gets in the way for a while, but.  Tongue lips spit-wet kissing thing.  Boy in jammies straddling his hips, grinding a bit.

Grinding a lot, actually.  Sort of like a badly-aimed lap dance.

*crack*

If every lap-dance ended with the dancer smacking his/her head on the bunk above, the sex industry would collapse.  Sort of how Jacob collapses onto Kalan like a dead thing.

"Oooowwwwwwww."

"Are you okay?"

"I think my brains are dribbling out my nose."

"Ew."

"Kiss me, I'm dying."

Kalan does.  The first time, he didn't get to kiss him right away.  He'd turned out the lights, then gone to look for . . . something.  He can't remember.  Jacob came up behind up and pushed him into a wall, held Kalan there with his whole body, ground against him and licked the back of his neck.  Growled (can you growl when you always sound like an angry cat?), you like that, don't you?

Held Kalan up against the wall, dragged his pajama bottoms down, and licked down his spine to his ass, then kissed him.  Turned him around and sucked him.  Tongue on his cock and that mouth . . .

The weirdness afterward lasted almost half an hour, and then they crawled into the same armchair and listened to Jason tell them about something from high school.

So, yes.  Sex.

He likes how Jacob doesn't treat him like a baby or a girl.  He isn't either one, but the puppy-dog look works too well for him to junk it.  And people like to pet his hair.  Jacob likes to squirm while Kalan licks at him, and whine when Kalan bites (low down, where the clothes won't show it, because they don't need to go through is that a hickey again.  not on TV).  Just a few seconds to suck on his throat, not long enough to leave a mark.

"I think I might not be dead anymore."

"Good."

"Continue worshipping me."

"Oh gee.  Thanks."

But Jacob gets an arm around Kalan's neck and wrestles him down.  Cuddles him and tickles him without mercy and then kisses him more seriously.  There's a scramble to get rid of their pajamas (pajamas.  but somebody might wander in with a camera, and the producers like to remind them that there are ladies around.  or lady.  or Theresa, who's really nice and probably doesn't want to be accidentally flashed by sleepy guys in their underwear) and then they're two naked guys grabbing at each other in the dark.

Mmmm.  Sex.  Nothing elaborate or athletic, but it gets the job done, and there's so much skin involved.  Sloppy kissing that probably has something to do with the ever-more-intense attention that people are giving to Kalan's mouth.

As long as you're in the dark, you can sleep naked if you want to.  Their clothes are right there on the floor, after all.  And it's nice, like a cave with another warm body in it.  Fingers that rub at his chest a little.    In the dark, nobody can tell what a pretty, pretty boy he is, and he doesn't have to ever give up being touched.




jane
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