"I Lost My Limbs But Not My Lover"
By Viridian5
7/3/00

RATING: NC-17; Newbie (Craig)/Curtis. If m/m interaction 
bothers you, pass on by. 
SPOILERS: "I'm Fat and I'm Proud" and "My Pet, My Hero"
SUMMARY: The competition continues.  As usual.
DISTRIBUTION: Anywhere, as long as you ask me first. 
FEEDBACK: can be sent to Viridian5@aol.com 
DISCLAIMERS: All things _Twitch City_ belong to 
Don McKellar, Bruce McDonald, Shadow Shows, Accent 
Entertainment, and the CBC.  No infringement intended.
NOTES: Curtis (played by Don McKellar) is an agoraphobe 
and television addict who rarely makes it past the edge of his 
front porch yet has the world providing for him.  Newbie, (played 
by Callum Keith Rennie) formerly Craig, works at the corner 
grocery store and is one of those folks who bring him things.  
They're alike enough--highly intelligent but using their intellect 
only on trivia, strangely socialized, in love with television even 
as they sneer at it--that it binds them together even as it prevents 
them--being *too* much alike--from being truly buddy close.  
But it's a lot of fun watching these two friends and occasional 
adversaries interact....


==================================== 
"I Lost My Limbs But Not My Lover"
By Viridian5 
==================================== 

"...but if you need tricks and deceit to ensnare a man, then you 
don't deserve him.  Honesty is always the best policy.  Be yourself.  
And if that doesn't work, maybe some of you cows should consider 
plastic surgery...." As Rex Reilly, oozing sincerity, went through 
his episode wrap-up, Curtis heard the door open and close 
downstairs.  From the heavier tread on the stairs, he could tell it 
was Craig coming up.  Besides, Hope's new job--going into its 
third week, a new record--meant that she wouldn't be back for at 
least another three hours, and she'd probably be tired and cranky 
again....  But they needed the money.

Curtis knew he should be happy.  They had rent money.  And 
Hope didn't know what to do with herself when she didn't have a 
job or at least interviews, since she didn't seem to be able to handle 
the homebody lifestyle with the ease and grace Curtis did.  Not 
everyone could; it wasn't as easy as it looked.  It would be a 
character flaw of hers if it didn't make her go out and bring in 
money and food.

But, to his surprise, he felt lonely, with even TV failing to 
completely fill the hole.  Hope wasn't around most of the time 
and pretty much just slept after she came home.  One of their 
current roommates spent the whole day in his room on the 
computer cackling under his breath and muttering about nitric 
acid, glycerin, Epsom salts, sawdust, fertilizer, kitty litter, and 
paraffin.  The other stayed out most of the time, but at such 
irregular intervals that Curtis couldn't rent out her room during 
the hours she was gone.  As far as roommates went, the crates 
of spiked pineapple almond cookies had been more fun; at least 
they'd provided hours of tripping entertainment.  Even Lucky had 
stayed quiet and avoided him lately, staying out all night with her 
feline friends and sleeping all day.  The sleeping part was usual, 
but the staying out....

Curtis couldn't believe he'd reached a point where he wouldn't 
mind the cat's company.  Definitely a new low.

Almost three weeks of him and the TV alone, with everything else 
silent.  He used to be strong enough that he didn't need anything 
else, that TV alone could sustain him.

Maybe Hope was a bad influence.

But now Craig--Newbie, really, but Curtis still couldn't call Craig 
that in his head--was coming up with the usual box of nearly 
expired food and old magazines.

Curtis got up out of the perfectly Curtis-shaped indent in the couch 
to load a tape into the VCR and start the popcorn.  Now all he had 
to do was wait.

The fact that Craig still came over with the care packages 
suggested that he'd gotten over losing that TV skills competition 
to Curtis pretty well, though it probably still ate at him deep 
inside....  As it should.  That one had worked out well, getting 
Craig out of the apartment and Hope away from working for him, 
while Curtis still kept their friendship and deliveries of free food.  
No apartment really needed two people with an encyclopedic 
knowledge of TV; it was redundant and a recipe for trouble.

"Hey, smells great in here," Craig said, only his eyes and spiky 
orange hair peeking up from over the top of a large box before 
he set it down on the table.  

Curtis pressed Play on the remote behind his back while offering 
the bowl with his other hand.  "It's just popcorn.  Want some?"

Craig took off his bright red gloves and reached in.  "Yeah, thanks.  
Can't stay very long, though."

"...last thing I remember is getting hit by the bus.  When I awoke 
in the hospital, my arms and legs were gone!" a woman's voice 
sobbed from the TV.

"They're replaying 'I Lost My Limbs But Not My Lover'?" Craig asked.

Curtis settled into his niche on the couch and nonchalantly ate 
some popcorn.  "It's my tape.  Sometimes you have to go back 
to the classics."

"That's one of my favorite episodes of _The Rex Reilly Show_."

"Really?" Curtis asked, sounding bored.

"You know that."

"It's a good show.  You can watch if you want to."

"I really have to go." But his eyes kept getting drawn back to the 
TV no matter how hard he fought.

"It's up to you."

The guest continued, "...afraid of how my husband would react, 
but the sex has been even better since my accident!" A chorus of 
horrified groans erupted from the studio audience.

"In all my years on this show," Rex Reilly said solemnly, "that 
may be the most depraved thing I've ever heard."

His will to resist apparently broken, Craig settled down next to 
Curtis and grabbed some popcorn.  "Hypocrites.  And you suck, 
Curtis." As usual, he sat so close that Curtis could feel his warmth 
all along his left side.  Any closer and he'd be in Curtis' lap.  Not a 
bad thing....

"You might as well take your coat and scarf off."

"Yeah, yeah," Craig said as he stood up.  "You could just ask.  
Freak."

It was harder to manipulate Craig the usual way, but if you made 
your effort semi-obvious, he was so pleased at seeing through it 
that you could get him to do your bidding.  Besides, he expected 
it.  No sense in disappointing him in that.

Craig took off his coat and scarf, leaving his store shirt, overshirt, 
and T-shirt be.  Still too many layers, but that could wait.  He 
snuggled back down even closer, radiating warmth, next to Curtis 
and let the magic of Rex Reilly bind him tight.

It surprised Curtis how comfortable it could be watching TV with 
Craig, but that might be because watching TV seemed to change 
Craig.  His breathing and heartbeat slowed, and he blinked less.  

While watching television together, he and Curtis usually reached 
for the popcorn and moved at exactly the same time.

"She looks like a voodoo doll with those stumps," Craig said.  "But 
they make her... cuter somehow."

That hadn't been a part of Craig's commentary last time.  Curtis 
smiled.  "You're a sick man."

"So it would seem."

As a more belligerent amputee was wheeled onto the stage and 
started to harangue the crowd, Curtis said, "The thing I love 
about this show is that you can get something different out of it 
every time."

"Touch it. Touch my stump!" the man shouted from the TV, which 
set Craig off into a fit of barking laughter.  

"What the hell was that?"

Craig tried to get his breath back.  "Sorry, private joke.  'C'mon, 
man, I want to show you how it feels....'"

They watched, mesmerized, until the end credits started to roll.  
Then Craig said, "Rex Reilly brings you to forefront of the 
apocalypse and back.  You have to love him for it."  

"I don't know.  This one almost seems kind of sweet."

Craig raised an eyebrow.  "It's like a freak tent, but televised.  Gasp 
in horror, audience, that these folks still have a sex life even as 
your own diseased curiosity won't make you look away.  Leer at 
'em, since that's what they're there for."

"But they still have a sex life.  It's life-affirming." And all part of 
his plan.

"So there are fetishists out there.  What else is new?" Craig 
reached for the remote.  "What's next?"

Curtis snatched it away.  "The whole tape is full of Rex Reilly 
episodes, commercial-free."

"I want to hold the remote anyway."

"My house, my TV, my remote."

"But I'm a guest.  That gives me some rights."

"Not to my remote, it doesn't."

"Give."

"No."

Craig pounced, which was completely part of the plan.  They soon 
struggled in a tangle of limbs.  Ah, foreplay.  Curtis tossed the 
remote onto a nearby table and wrapped himself around Craig to 
keep him from reaching it.  They rolled a few times, half on and 
half off the couch.

"This is so beneath you, Squirtis."

"That's funny; so are you."

"Not for long."

Curtis ran his fingers through brittle orange hair and gripped.  
"You know it's all going to fall out someday," he said, though 
he actually liked the almost crispy texture.

"Bite your tongue.  And it will if you keep pulling on it.  You fight 
like a girl!" Craig protested.

"Then you're getting whipped by a girl."

Curtis finally trapped Craig in a corner of the couch, underneath 
him, and grinned at his prize from his roost between two long, 
parted legs.  Craig's shirts had ridden up, revealing the pale skin 
of his belly, and his hair managed to look even more disheveled 
than usual.

Then Craig smiled back.  "So, is this all about you and Hope 
having troubles and you being lonely and horny?"

Too perceptive by half, especially since Curtis didn't think he 
looked as aroused as he felt.  Too unpredictable too, because now 
Curtis had to wonder instead of just knowing whether a truth or a 
lie would get him what he wanted.  Craig could be spontaneously 
strange--how many other adults would decide one day that they 
wanted to be called "Newbie," of all things, for the rest of their 
lives?--and that made him a challenge.  A truth or a lie now?

"Yeah," Curtis said.

"Oh. Okay.  Let's get it on."

This wasn't right.

"What?"

"Hop to. Time's a'wasting." Craig had an insolent grin on his face.  
"Something wrong?"

"You're suspiciously eager."

"You didn't want me to want it?  You wanted to rape me or 
something?"

"No!  You just screwed up my momentum is all."

The smiled deepened.  "I changed the script."

"Hardly."

"Performance anxiety?" Craig purred.

"No!"

"If you had these plans of doing things to convince me to want to, 
you could go right ahead with those." Craig drummed his fingers 
on his bare stomach, a perfect picture of impatient--and slightly 
debauched--waiting.  His knees brushed Curtis' ribs.

"Are you wanting it this much to try to make me change my mind 
about this?"

"Look, we're both sluts.  It's just that one of the things that's 
different about us is that I made peace with my inner slut and 
call it by its proper name, while you're so sneaky in everything 
that you *can't* walk a straight line when you could go around 
corners instead."

"What?"

"You can't just be a slut and admit it.  You have to pretend it's 
something else."

"You make me sound like I'm ashamed of myself."

"I don't think you could be if you tried. Nah, this is about deceit as 
a way of life."

"You're such a pain in the--"

"Hey! You know I don't do that."

"I can't go through with this now.  The mood's ruined."

"Tease."

"You're calling me a tease."

Craig simply looked nonchalant.  "Yup."

"You."

"I'm just calling it like I see it."

Curtis had to wipe that superior smirk away.  He pounced, pulling 
open Craig's fly and underwear.  Knowing that he had to disable 
Craig immediately, Curtis quickly sucked his cock in as deeply as 
he could.  Craig almost shot up into orbit in response.

Familiarity didn't breed contempt; familiarity was actually damned 
good.  Curtis knew exactly how Craig would taste, knew exactly 
where to run his tongue to make him moan and squirm, knew when 
he had to start pushing down on Craig's hipbones to stop him from 
knocking them both off the couch.

It always gave Curtis a thrill to see Craig writhing like this, 
helpless, and know he was responsible for it.  It made him 
even harder.

They really didn't do this often enough.

He also knew that Craig, unwilling to show how much he wanted 
this, would refuse to grab his hair to hold him in place, clenching 
his hands on the couch cushions instead.  The current plan hinged 
on that.  Pride goeth before a fall....

Curtis could tell that Craig was about to come, could feel it in 
the way his cock twitched and thighs trembled.  Right when he 
reached the edge, he started to moan... and Curtis gripped Craig's 
cock by the base hard and removed his mouth, making sure it 
couldn't happen.

Curtis smiled and tightened his hold for a moment.  "*This* is 
being a tease."

"You son of a bitch," Craig panted.

"Leave my mother out of this."

"Since when?"

Craig shocked him by sitting up, grabbing him by the shoulders, 
and pulling him down on top of him.  Not part of the plan, and he 
only had one hand free to defend himself.  Not enough, especially 
once Craig had his legs locked around him.  He couldn't move.

Craig smiled sweetly, then started to grind beneath him.  Curtis' 
trapped arm as well as well as Craig's cock rubbed against him in 
waves.  It was awkward as all hell, and it shouldn't have been 
having such an effect on Curtis.  

"Mmmm, denim.  I like a bit of rough sometimes, but I don't think 
you do, not really," Craig said. "You let me go, maybe I'll let you 
go."

Curtis had to be strong.  His arm started to tingle from the lack of 
circulation, and he felt Craig's cock twitching against his hand.  
"Won't."

"Then I won't either."

Craig started to grind again, which should have been impossible 
with the way he had his legs wrapped around Curtis.  Flexible 
bastard. It was torture of the best and most excruciating kind, 
and Curtis' cock seemed to be trying to bust the zipper.  Rubbing, 
rubbing....

"Are you trying to start a fire here?" Curtis asked, trying to keep 
his tone even, bland.

Craig just closed his eyes and panted.

"You're only... frustrating yourself," Curtis said, angry at himself 
for letting a hint of his torment leak out.

"Yeah, but I'm frustrating you too, and that makes it worth it.  You 
let me come, and I'll stop trying to make you come."

"Cr--  Newbie...."

"Let go."

"No."

"Fine." Craig shifted his grip from Curtis' shoulders to his head, 
held him in place, and kissed him.  It was so unlike anything Craig 
had done today that the shock made Curtis let go.  

>From the way his whole body moved, Craig seemed to be having 
one hell of an orgasm.  The bucking and writhing--which felt to 
Curtis like he was trying to ride the mechanical bull from 
_Midnight Cowboy_, or the mechanical bull was trying to ride 
him--brought Curtis to the edge.  Craig tightening his leg lock 
and thrusting up hard as he finished coming knocked Curtis over.

The first thing Curtis heard when he could start thinking again was 
"You're crushing me...."

Curtis realized that he was winded, sticky, and draped limply over 
Craig.  And glowing with satisfaction.  They'd done a few detours, 
but he'd ended up where he wanted to go.  

"Then let go," Curtis said.

"Now you know what it feels like.  Sure."

Once Curtis was free, he admired Craig's boneless and debauched 
sprawl on the couch.  Disheveled, clothes just about ripped off, 
cock hanging out of his pants, Craig still looked in control 
somehow.

"I won," Craig purred.

"Oh, please. You came first."

"I tricked you into letting go."

"It was a cheap shot." Familiar theme music came on again.  "Hey, 
this should be 'My Daughter Dresses Like a Whore.'"

"Cool." Craig watched with him but said, "You know I won.  Hey, 
what did you stop the tape for?"

"I have to change." He was already getting stuck in his jeans.  
Once he had new pants and a shirt on, he walked back out of the 
bathroom, threw a washcloth to Craig, turned the tape back on, 
and said, "You're full of it."

"You're just a sore loser."

"You're just desperate." Curtis figured they'd argue and watch 
TV until they jumped one another again or Hope came back, 
whichever came first.  

Sometimes it really worked out having Craig over.  Curtis was glad 
he'd thought of it.


**********************THE END***********************



NOTE: The "touch my stump" thing is, of course, from 
_Hard Core Logo_.  The lines are funny enough on their 
own, but he just had to do them with that accent....