qafcracked (qafcracked) wrote in qaf_crackfic, @ 2008-05-10 18:37:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | author: dirtylttlescret |
Repost: 4,288 words of crackalicious fun
Okay, this is a repost from my journal because not_yet_defined told me to and I have to listen to her.
Title: Justin White and the Seven Homos
Author: dirtylttlescret
A/N: This is AR or crack!fic, whichever you prefer. Also, it's loosely based on Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, in case you couldn't figure it out from the title. And I beta'd it a couple of times myself.
Rating: PG? PG-13?
Once upon a time, there was a young prince who lived in an ancient castle at the top of a hill. He had beautiful alabaster skin and perfect golden locks and the cutest little bubble butt the kingdom had seen. His name was Justin White on account of his creamy skin, and he lived in the castle with his wicked stepfather, King Craig. The king was vain and full of himself and terribly self-righteous, but Justin never seemed to notice. He still loved his stepfather, perhaps because he was the only father he had ever known.
Early one morning, Justin White was sitting by the well in the courtyard, wistfully gazing at the fluffy white clouds above, and wishing he could really get laid.
As if right on cue, a tall and well toned brunette came trotting by on his stallion. Justin’s draw jopped. Or jaw dropped. He couldn’t figure out which. His brain was a mess of synapses and neurons and nothing seemed to function the way he wanted it to. His higher motor functions simply disappeared at the sight of this beautifully muscled man.
“Um, hi. Welcome to our kingdom,” Justin managed to stutter.
The stranger was wearing rich red silks and soft gold velvets, grinning wickedly and sporting a fabulous case of bed hair. Justin thought he looked like pure sex.
“Thanks. How’s it going?” he asked, raking the kid over with his hazel eyes.
Prince Brian looked down from his steed at the boy. His lithe body, iceberg colored eyes, and smooth pale skin stirred something deep inside him. He drank in the sight of this mysterious man-child hungrily with his eyes, as though he’d accidentally stumbled on the eternal fountain of youth. Brian thought he looked like pure sex.
“I’m Justin. Justin White,” said the prince, trying to play it cool.
“Prince Brian,” said Prince Brian. “I’m cutting through your kingdom on my way Babylon.”
“Babylon?” asked Justin. “What’s that?”
“It’s a magical kingdom filled with sprites and fairies, as far as the eye can see. Only it’s been taken over by a rogue band of fourteen giant trolls.”
“Sounds awful.”
“It is,” said Prince Brian matter-of-factly. “They use their giant troll feet to squash pretty much anything that gets in their way. Last week they intercepted a shipment of fire-breathing dragons between Altoona and Pittsburghland and used them to burn down a village.”
“That’s horrible!” said Justin horrified. But it was really hard to concentrate on the plight of the poor Babylonians with Prince Brian’s crotch hovering tantalizingly at eye level. “Want some help?” Justin found himself asking. He was glad his brain hadn’t completely gone to shit.
But before Prince Brian could answer, King Craig stormed out into the courtyard.
“Justin, what are you doing out here? You’ve got your roundtable management lesson in the great hall at 9, and then Peasant Taxation at 11,” yelled the King in frustration as he waved towards his henchman to “take care” of the stranger on the horse.
Justin White rolled his eyes. “I’ll be there in a minute,” he said. But when he turned around, Prince Brian had vanished. Justin spent the rest of the day in his studies trying to hide an erection.
~~~
King Craig was full of himself. So full of himself that every morning he would rise from his bed, put on his regal robes and gaze into a magic mirror.
“Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the most righteous of them all?” he’d ask. King Craig liked being righteous because that meant he was noble and smart and right about everything.
“You, your majesty,” the mirror would always reply.
But one day, the king heard this instead:
“There is another, one who is more brave and strong and more noble than you.”
King Craig dropped his tumbler full of scotch, sending it shattering into teeny tiny pieces.
“Another? But who is more righteous than me?” he asked the mirror.
“Justin White. His heart is filled with a love that yours will never understand. And he’s got bigger balls than you ever will.”
With that, King Craig flew into a rage. He tore at his hair and his robes and cut his feet on the teeny tiny pieces of shattered tumbler that littered the floor. And when he had calmed down enough to form coherent sentences again, he called for his henchman, the former Baron von Stockwell.
Craig told him to lure Justin out deep into the woods and then just at the right moment, cut out his heart with a really big knife. The former Baron von Stockwell disliked Justin White almost as much as King Craig did, especially since it was he who exposed the Baron for trying to cover-up of the murder of a poor bar wench (or the male equivalent of a female bar wench) by his best friend, a knight of high ranking from the king’s roundtable. That little fiasco had subsequently got him de-Baroned, and he had really liked the title too.
Poor Justin White was about to be quartered and shish kebobbed, and he didn’t even know it. Fortunately, Hunter the stable boy/page was conveniently lurking outside the king’s chambers and overheard the entire sordid plot. He’d make sure that poor Justin White wasn’t filleted like the fish they’d had for dinner that evening.
~~~
The next morning, the former Baron von Stockwell roused Justin from his bedchambers and told him they were going hunting out in the woods. Justin didn’t understand how killing wild boars or furry little foxes would make him a better prince, but his stepfather insisted, so he dressed himself and followed the former Baron out to the stables to collect their horses.
“Don’t go dude,” whispered Hunter the stable boy/page. “He wants to turn your pretty little insides into today’s pink plate special at the Liberty Tavern.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Justin.
Hunter glanced over furtively to see if the former Baron was listening.
“He wants to kill you. Is that clear enough? Your lousy impersonation of a stepfather ordered him to do it. I heard him talking about it while I was eavesdropping last night.”
“You were spying on the king?”
“Seriously dude. Bigger fish to fry,” said Hunter, trying to get the plot back on track.
The implication of Hunter’s words suddenly hit Justin with full force. The color drained from his face and he felt as though the only thing keeping his heart trapped in his chest were the ribs in front of it. It was too much. Justin swooned a little and grabbed onto the reins of his horse to steady himself.
“Dude, are you okay?” asked Hunter the stable boy/page.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Justin lied.
“Look, he’s taking you into the woods. Once you get to the river, maybe you can make a break for it.”
Justin thought for a moment, contemplating his dire dilemma. Two days ago he’d been talking to the most beautiful man in the world, the sight of whom flooded his mind with fantasies of fucking and fighting giant trolls and fucking some more. Today his stepfather was trying to kill him. It all seemed so soap opera-ish.
“Thanks,” said Justin simply, mounting his ride. He thought for a moment and reached into his pouch for some parchment and a piece of graphite. He scribbled quickly on the paper, rolled it up and passed it back to the boy along with a small medallion. “In case I don’t make it back, give these to Sheriff Horvath. The medallion has the royal insignia on it, so he’ll know you’re not bullshitting him.”
“What’s it say?”
“Basically that my stepfather is a selfish son of a bitch. Oh, and that he sent his henchman to murder me.”
“Good call,” said Hunter the stable boy/page. “Good luck escaping certain death dude.”
~~~
A few hours later, Justin White was just about to make a run for it. The former Baron von Stockwell was suggesting that they take a break from “hunting” to have some breakfast. The former Baron dismounted his steed and walked over to get a drink of water from the stream. Justin took the opportunity to kick Stockwell’s horse with his spur and send the beast running into the woods.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Stockwell yelled, grabbing onto the reins of Justin’s horse, pulling out his really big knife with his other hand. Justin wondered if he should have thought this through a little better. “So you figured it out, eh? Well you’re too late, because now I’m going to pay you back for that little debacle you put me through with the wench by cutting out your heart!”
Justin pondered for a moment why fairytale villains were so prone to soliloquizing when they had their victims right where they wanted them, instead of just killing them already. So he kicked his own horse in the flank and the animal yanked free of the former Baron, sending him tumbling into the ground. Unfortunately, that freaked the horse out even more than having a shiny metal knife thrusting around in the air and it reared up, throwing Justin to the ground.
Justin scrambled to his feet and started running. He wasn’t sure where he was going, just that he had to keep moving or Stockwell would catch up. He ran and he ran until all he could see was black behind his eyes from too little oxygen getting to his brain. Finally, when he could run no more, he used his last breath to collapse on the ground, a little pile of rich fabrics soiled in sweat and dirt, small patches of exposed skin as pink as unripe strawberries, and a matted mess of honey-colored hair.
~~~
When Justin White awoke, he was hungry, cold, and completely disoriented, but strangely not scared. For nearly having been murdered, he was really quite calm. In the grand scheme of things he supposed that was the least of his problems right now. First he had to find food and shelter, and then he could deal with the whole regicide thing after he wasn’t worried about starving to death or being eaten by a bear.
The prince dusted himself off as best he could and wandered until he came to a clearing. Across a small meadow stood what looked like a cottage, but was so covered in kitsch that it was hard to tell what exactly was under there.
The prince cautiously approached the front door and knocked. No one answered. Justin knew it was rude to enter someone’s home without permission but he was hungry and it was cold and after all, he was a prince. What good was it being regal if you couldn’t use it to take advantage of your subjects from time to time?
Justin pushed open the front door (it was unlocked because this was a fairytale after all) and found the inside of the house to be as loud as the outside. Porcelain cats, furry throw rugs, leopard print wallpaper. Someone had bad taste and a lot of it.
The smell of Italian food wafted through the house and Justin followed his nose until he found an enormous kitchen and an ungodly amount of baked ziti cooking in the oven. He grabbed a plate and helped himself until he could eat no more. Then he wandered into what looked like the living room and collapsed on the couch. It seemed less imposing than falling asleep on some stranger’s bed, and who knows, there could be dwarves living here and he wouldn’t fit in their beds anyway. In minutes, Justin was sound asleep.
~~~
“Who the fuck ate my ziti?” came a shrill voice from the kitchen. Justin shot straight up and realized the occupants of the cottage had returned. “And who the fuck are you?”
A loud and brightly colored woman appeared from around the corner, snapping her gum as she talked and pointing a vibrant fingernail at Justin.
“I’m sorry,” said Justin. “I let myself in. I’m Justin White.”
“Prince Justin White?” asked a tall man who looked a lot like a blond Superman. “What are you doing in out here in the woods?”
“It’s a long story, but in a nutshell, my stepfather tried to have me murdered,” said Justin.
“That sick fuck,” said Debbie. “Now what kind of a father tries to kill his own son?”
“Laius?” said a short man who looked a lot like a tax collector.
“Who?” asked a dark haired man who put his arm around the blond Superman.
“He was the father of Oedipus,” said the tax collector, as if that explained everything.
Justin was getting confused. More and more people were trickling into the room from the kitchen, until at last count, there were seven strange faces staring at the prince. “Wait, who are all you people?” he asked.
“We’re the Seven Homos,” said the tall, swishy looking one. “I’m Emmett and this is Ted,” he said pointing to the tax collector. “And that’s Ben and Michael,” he gestured towards Superman and his brown-eyed companion. “That’s Melanie and Lindsay,” he said, noting two women in the corner. “They’re not really ‘homos,’ but we let them pretend since they’re lesbians and that’s close enough. And that’s Debbie,” he said pointing at the red-haired woman smiling wide enough for the entire group. “She’s straight, but we let her be an honorary homo because, well, she’s Deb.”
“Thanks sweetie,” said Debbie, patting him on the arm.
Justin sighed, finally realizing he was in a whole heap of trouble. “Guys, what am I going to do?” he said, collapsing on the couch and putting his face in his hands. “I can’t go home now and I can’t leave the woods. What if my father’s henchman is still out there looking for me?”
“Don’t you worry honey,” said Debbie. “You can stay here until we figure out how to get you out of this mess. Michael, honey, why don’t you get the prince here some baked ziti?”
“Oh I’m not hungry, I already…” Justin tried to explain, but the loud woman cut him off.
“Don’t argue with me, you’re gonna eat it,” she said, but she said it with a smile, so he let it go.
~~~
Meanwhile, back at the castle, the former Baron von Stockwell had tried to trick the king into believing he had accomplished his mission by bringing him the heart of a deer instead. It worked, until the next morning when King Craig got his daily update from his mirror.
“Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the most righteous of them all?”
“Justin White. And he’s still got bigger balls than you, you stupid self-absorbed…” Craig silenced the mirror by smashing his tumbler full of whiskey into it.
Stockwell became very well acquainted with the guillotine the next morning.
~~~
Justin settled into a routine at the Homos’ house. He never realized how much fun it could be to follow his own desires. Back at the castle, King Craig always had him studying war maps or learning how to negotiate cross-kingdom treaty agreements. Within the first few days, Justin found himself sketching anything and everything, which Debbie quickly seized and posted around the house like the cottage was the next Louvre or Sistine Chapel. That or a kindergarten classroom.
Justin sketched Melanie and Lindsay laughing together, their hair caught in the light, or Michael and Ben curled up on the couch. Sometimes he’d sketch Emmett working out in the garden, but mostly he found himself trying to recreate that face, the one of the man on his stallion. Of Prince Brian.
Justin couldn’t get it out of his head.
His eyes, a rich hazel, like pieces of amber flecked with beautiful imperfections. His hair soft and tousled, begging to be touched and pulled and nuzzled. And his mouth, oh his mouth ripe and hot and open.
Fuck, he had another hard-on.
Being horny with no release was getting old fast. Justin put down the sketchpad and went out into the garden. The sun was fading into the trees and he wished that Brian would ride up on his horse and whisk him away to Babylon where they could fight trolls together and perhaps even fuck a few fairies when they were done. But the light faded quietly into evening, and still Justin White was left without his prince.
~~~
King Craig had come up with a plan. A rather ingenious one actually (as if evil villains ever come up with stupid plans). It involved apples, poison and a disguise. He disappeared down into the bowels of the castle for days, until finally he emerged a week later, a vial of potion in one hand and a sinister looking green apple in the other. Craig swallowed the potion down whole and cringed as its magic began to work its form.
When it was done, King Craig looked at the reflection of his newly altered form in the shattered mirror and smiled wickedly. This was going to be fun.
~~~
It was a rare day of quiet at the Homos’ house and Justin was relaxing, finishing up a painting that looked suspiciously like an abstract version of Prince Brian. Debbie was working at the Liberty Tavern, Ted was out tax collecting, Michael and Ben were out saving the world, Emmett was planning posh parties for the aristocrats of the nearby town, and Melanie and Lindsay were off doing lesbian things.
Justin put down his brush and decided he’d spent enough time cooped up in the house thinking about a man he’d probably never see again, so he decided to take a walk. He was just closing the front door behind him when he saw her.
“Mom!” Justin’s jaw dropped.
Jennifer beamed from ear to ear. “Oh honey,” she said, putting her arms out to hug her son.
“I thought you were dead!” he said surprised. “Didn’t you die?” he asked, pulling away.
“No honey, I didn’t die,” she laughed. “There was a bit of a mix up, it’s funny really when you think about it. There was this spindle and an old hag, and she thought I was someone else, and whoops, next thing you know I’m asleep for ten years before anyone figures it out,” she finished nervously.
“But Craig said it was a dragon accident,” said Justin, still confused but overwhelmed to see his mother standing in front of him after so many lost years.
“‘Father,’” she correct, her voice suddenly very low.
“Huh?”
“Not ‘Craig,’ ‘Father,’” she repeated.
“Oh, right.” He said, squeezing her again. “Oh Mom, I’ve missed you so much. I’m glad you’re back.”
“I brought you something,” Jennifer said. She rummaged around in her satchel and pulled out a large green apple, holding towards her son. “A present.”
Justin found himself inexplicably drawn to the fruit. It was shimmery and shiny, like the sun breaking through the trees at dusk, or fireflies dancing in the garden when the air was cool and still.
“Go on, take it,” she said, holding it closer to his lips.
Justin reached for the apple and drew it up to his mouth. His eyes held on its color, transfixed at how something as simple as an apple could be so mesmerizing. And when he bit down, a rush of realization flowed between his teeth and over his tongue at how wrong, how very wrong this was. But it was already too late.
~~~
“Sunshine!” a voice gasped quietly.
Debbie was the first on the scene. A beautiful woman was standing over Justin White’s fallen body, laughing maniacally, because really, do evil villains ever laugh normally? Debbie watched in captivated horror as the shape of the woman melted away to reveal King Craig beneath.
“What the fuck is going on?”
Apparently her presence had gone unnoticed by the wicked king, because Craig was still reveling in success of his evil doings without so much as a glance in her direction. The rest of the gang was quick behind her, and before the king could note it, an angry mob had silently formed around him.
“What the fuck did you do to our Sunshine?” yelled Debbie, finally catching his attention. She held her finger out, pointing at the accused.
“You’re too late!” laughed King Craig, lording over his spoils.
“Yeah, well we’re not too late to have your balls and feed them to the proverbial wolves,” she said. Ben and Michael grabbed the king and forced him to the ground, while Emmett grabbed some rope and Melanie and Lindsay hogtied his royal majesty. Ted ran off and came back with a wheelbarrow a few minutes later.
“You’ll never get away this!” shouted the king as they heaved him into the cart.
“Oh would you give it up with trite and overused dialogue already?” said Emmett, shoving a sock into his mouth.
With the king temporarily out of the way, they turned their attention to the poisoned prince as he lay helplessly on the ground.
Ben picked him up and gently lay Justin’s listless body out on a bench in the front yard. Golden strands framed his cheekbones and a soft glow seemed to radiate from his skin. He was breathing, but it was as though he were caught in a living death, a place between coming and going that could never be escaped. Justin was in trouble.
~~~
Weeks passed and still Justin White did not rouse. The Homos built a bed for him out in the front yard with a glass cover to keep the bugs from flying into his mouth and the spiders from building cobwebs all over him. They wanted him to move him inside the house but eventually decided against it, because really, it was just too weird to have a non-living, non-dead person sleeping under the same roof that they ate, slept and got off under.
The day after King Craig was thrown down by a posse of seven homos, Hunter the stable boy/page produced the documents that proved the king had tried to kill his son. For his bravery and cunning, Hunter was promoted to horseman/knight, given a place at the roundtable, then promptly disappeared.
The king was deposed of his throne immediately, then locked in a tower, after of course spending a month in the stocks where he was warmly greeted daily by the peasants he had overtaxed, overworked and underpaid for years.
But back at the Homos’ house, little else changed for poor, lifeless Justin. Summer died and autumn came and still the prince slept. Until one crisp October day, with the smell of falling leaves clinging to the air, Hunter came back.
“Hey pal,” said Ben, helping him down from his ride. “Where you been?”
Hunter brushed the hair out of his eyes and unceremoniously waved his hand towards a second man who was approaching. A brunette. On a stallion. “That is Prince Brian,” he said, beaming with pride.
“Who?” asked Melanie.
“Don’t you guys know anything?” asked Hunter. “Hello? Snow Fucking White? Ever heard of it?”
They stared blankly. Michael wondered if Hunter the horseman/knight had had perhaps taken a blow to the head during his sudden departure. Hunter wondered whether these people were for real.
Prince Brian dismounted his horse, ignoring the Homos, and walked over to the glass coffin. He placed his palm on the case that held Justin entombed inside it. His skin was flushed pink and his lips were slightly parted. Even in semi-death Brian thought he looked like sex. Was it wrong to get a hard-on from a person when they were stuck in a permanent coma?
Brian lifted the cover off of the bed and set it gently on the ground. He ran the tips of his fingers across Justin’s luscious lips and felt air coming through in even breaths between them. God, he was beautiful even in sleep, like a fallen angel, sweet and dark and dangerous. Brian ran his fingers through the soft shaggy hair, and then leaned in and kissed him deeply.
Prince Brian felt the hot exhale of air back against his mouth, and then a tongue probing against his. A hand reached up to caress the back of his head, running strong fingers through his perfectly tousled hair, sending a chill racing down his spine.
“You came for me,” said Justin when they parted.
“I did,” Brian smiled back.
“Sunshine!” squealed Debbie. The group had finally stopped arguing long enough to notice that Justin no longer resembled the state of a rutabaga.
It was a rush of madness, with everyone trying to pull Justin away to hug and kiss him, but blessedly, Brian would not let him go.
“What took you so long?” Justin asked when he was finally able to get a word in edgewise.
“Your father had me removed from your kingdom, so I went to save Babylon. I figured we could rule it together,” Brian shrugged. “After we finish getting rid of the giant trolls of course.”
“Of course.”
“Then Hunter came and found me. When he told me what happened to you, I was so scared. I raced back as fast as my horse would carry me.”
Justin took the opportunity to kiss him again. “You so care about me," he said, smiling so hard his teeth hurt.
"Whatever," said Brian. And he kissed Justin back so obscenely, even Ted was embarrassed to watch.
"Jesus, it's like they're fuckin' newlyweds or something," said Debbie.
Justin grabbed Prince Brian's cock through his codpiece. "Seriously though. Are you going to fuck me now or what?"
And they fucked happily ever after.