Another city, another show. Another club. The usual.
Justin sits at the edge of his seat, elbow on the table. He wants nothing more than to kick back and chill, but he’s surrounded by people talking and laughing, noisy and self-conscious, performing for him, Justin thinks. Most of them he knows, and the rest aren’t saying anything he hasn’t heard before. Joey and Lance left hours ago, Chris is with some girl, and JC’s off schmoozing somewhere, been gone all night. Justin scans the crowd.
“Looking for me?”
A hand on Justin’s back. JC’s throwing off heat like he does for hours after a show. Justin curls into his touch, then straightens up and looks at him.
“Nah. You about ready?”
“No,” JC says, smiling. “Come on.”
He drags Justin through the crowd by the wrist, grinning at friends and shaking his head at all the others. They fall back, some smiling, some rolling their eyes, but no one’s going to deny JC anything he wants, no matter how goofy or oblivious he seems to be. JC snags Lonnie along the way and explains something to him that Justin can’t hear, stretching up on tiptoes to speak into Lonnie’s ear, punctuating his statement with swooping motions of his free arm. Lonnie turns and gives Justin a piercing glance and nods.
Then JC’s pulling him up the stairs and pushing him down on the futon in the empty double-secret vip balcony, and he bounces a little and sprawls, and JC’s looking down at him like he’s waiting for an answer or something.
“Okay!” JC says finally. “Relax now. Go ahead.” He crosses his arms over his chest.
“Uh,” Justin says, pushing up onto his elbows. “JC. I don’t –”
“Relax, man. Do it.”
JC scowls, actually looking annoyed, and Justin has to laugh, even though he knows it won’t help at all.
“Om,” he says brightly. “There! All better. Can we go now? I’m kinda tired.”
JC’s eyes narrow and he bounces on his toes, and usually that means JC’s thinking hard, because JC thinks with his whole body. It’s entertaining when he’s got a complex problem to work through, the best kind of cracked out choreography, but this looks to be an easy one. One bounce and his arms loosen and his lips turn up at the corners, and then JC flops down next to him and heaves a happy sigh.
“Comfy,” he mumbles, and turns to look at Justin. “Okay. Tell mama all about it.”
Justin laughs again, because he can’t help it. “What? JC, first of all, ew. And second of all, are you on something? Because you know–”
“We’re not talking about me, Justin,” JC says, laughing back. He stretches a little on the futon. “We’re talking about you. Come on, you know you love that.”
“True,” Justin admits, but he won’t say another word. Neither does JC. It’s a stand off.
But after a few minutes of looking into JC’s mocking eyes and counting JC’s slow breaths, Justin gives up. He knows JC can be the most stubborn bastard in the world when he makes his mind up about something. The problem is, Justin’s not sure how to untangle the knot in his brain, or if there’s even a way to approach describing what he feels.
“Bored,” he says briefly. JC hums, but says nothing.
“So stupid, no reason for it,” he adds after a minute. “It’s not like I’m not livin’ the dream.” JC says nothing. Justin thinks some more, biting his lip, but nothing else makes sense. He shrugs and grimaces, and JC’s face clears suddenly.
“Oh! This is about sex, isn’t it?”
JC looks so pleased with himself. Justin laughs hard, curling up on the futon. JC. There’s nobody in the world like him, a true one of a kind. “No, JC, god,” Justin manages, gasping for breath, and JC grins at him, and when Justin gets himself under control again he realizes he feels lighter. Not better, exactly, but not so tired.
“Let’s talk about sex anyway,” JC says.
“Okay,” Justin says, still smiling.
“I haven’t gotten laid in, like, three weeks,” JC says, frowning. This is the most serious problem in the world, Justin knows. JC is so easy.
“I thought we were talking about me,” Justin says. “Besides, that’s a lie. What about that dark-haired chick with the fake Gucci after the Anaheim show? I know you fucked her.”
“Oh,” JC says, an embarrassed look spreading across his face. “I forgot. Wow.”
“JC!” Justin says, elbowing him. JC pushes him away and ducks his head, smiling, but he’s turning red.
“It feels like three weeks,” he explains, then giggles and flushes even darker. “It feels like snakes are crawling up my spine all the time.”
Justin makes a rude noise. “That’s not even sexy, JC.”
“It’s not?”
Oops. JC glares at him, chin lifted, seriously offended.
“No,” Justin says, just to fuck with him. “Try again.”
JC opens his mouth to draw in a quick, angry breath, and stops. He glances to the left, and then to the right, and then looks at Justin.
“A fire in my belly,” he says grudgingly. Justin laughs.
“Indigestion.”
“My skin is shimmering all over my body?”
Justin think about that one, tapping his mouth. “Mmm, no. Sorry.”
A hilarious, strangled noise. It’s fun, messing with JC like this. Except suddenly JC pushes him onto his back and looms over him, weighing him down, puffing agitated breaths into his face.
“My cock is hard all the time,” JC hisses. “I think about fucking all the time. I look at everyone I meet and I wonder how they’d look on their knees, on their backs, dresses pushed up, pants pulled down. I think about how much pleasure I can give them, what they’d look like coming hard, because I drove them to it.”
He rolls off Justin and looks at the ceiling, tense all over. Justin can feel it. Justin can also feel it when the tension leaves him, replaced by something else, and JC starts to draw away, to close up.
“Not bad,” Justin says.
JC’s head whips around. “Yeah?” he says in a low voice.
“Yeah,” Justin says. “Hot.”
“Oh. Great.” JC exhales, but he’s still closed up, a million miles away.
“Really hot,” Justin says. “Scorching. But we’re talking about me, dammit.”
JC snorts, and he’s back, just like that. “Of course, Justin,” he says, smiling, and Justin grins at him.
“I think about those things, too.”
“Really.”
JC sounds mildly interested. That won’t do.
“But I don’t think about them with everyone.”
“Uh huh,” JC says. “Justin –”
“Just some people,” Justin clarifies.
“Right,” JC says in a remote voice. Justin pokes him in the side of the head with a fingertip to get his attention, and JC says, “Ow,” in a loud and completely unconvincing way. He turns his head and fixes Justin with an evil stare.
“JC,” Justin says affectionately. “I know you’re not that retarded.”
Shock fills JC’s eyes and his mouth opens a little. It’s a beautiful thing. “Justin?” he says, his voice shaking, and Justin rolls his eyes.
“I’d prefer it if you were on your knees, though,” Justin says. “At least to begin with. That is, you know,” he goes on, “if that sounds good to you.” He raises his eyebrows, but JC’s looking at his mouth and doesn’t seem to notice.
“JC?”
“Mmm,” JC says, licking his lips. His whole body is shaking. Justin whispers, “JC,” and bites his own lip by way of experiment, just gently holds his lower lip between his teeth for a few seconds. JC says, “Mmm,” again and wraps his arms around his chest, clutching handfuls of his own shirt, holding on.
On second thought, JC isn’t easy at all. Incredible. Justin brings a hand up between them and JC rears back, gasping.
“Hellooo,” Justin says, knocking on his skull. “Can JC come out to play?”
JC looks at him blankly for a minute. It seems to help when Justin shakes his head and smiles, and it really helps when Justin slides a hand into JC’s crazy hair and pulls. A sly smile starts in JC’s eyes.
“JC’s not home right now. JC seems to be having some kind of trippy out of body experience.”
“Oh, I hope not,” Justin says, pulling harder, and JC bares his throat. “It would be so much more fun if JC is in his body when I fuck it.” He licks a spot below JC’s ear, completely gratified when JC groans and surges against him.
“God, Justin, you’re getting me so hot.”
“Excellent,” Justin whispers, and bites down.
This time when JC pushes against him, whimpering, Justin grabs his ass with both hands and pulls him over on top. “That’s right, come on,” he says, arching into JC’s weight. “Come on, JC, move.”
“Fuck,” JC says, and rubs against him. He’s clumsy and jerky about it, not at all smooth as Justin imagined, and Justin realizes with a thrill that JC’s trying to line them up, trying to slide the length of his hard cock alongside Justin’s through their pants. “It’s, I can’t,” he gasps, propping his weight on one elbow so he can scrabble at Justin’s zipper. “Justin, help me.”
“You’re doing just fine,” Justin murmurs. He manages to get his own fly open despite JC’s help, and then JC’s fly, fingers sliding against JC’s hairy belly as he takes him out. “Nice,” Justin says, holding his stiff cock and squeezing it a little to say hi, and JC makes a choked sound and pushes into his hand.
“You should, you shouldn’t,” JC mutters, and closes his eyes. His face twists. He’s beautiful.
“Whatever you say, JC.”
Justin squeezes and pulls, and JC’s whole body ripples as he fucks Justin’s hand. “Yeah,” he groans, dropping his forehead to Justin’s shoulder. “Yeah, yeah. I knew you’d.”
“Yeah, you knew it,” Justin says, his heart expanding in his body, and he can’t wait any longer. JC’s cock burns against his as he holds them both and starts moving. Pretty soon, JC’s strong fingers wrap around his to join the slide, and Justin can tell by the sound of JC’s heavy breath against his neck that JC’s grinning, loving it.
“Let me know when you’re ready to come,” Justin whispers. “I wanna be kissing you when you come.”
“Okay,” JC groans, and jerks against him and Justin’s hand gets slippery. It takes a while for JC to finish, but Justin rides it out, ignoring the prickling in his thighs, his balls drawn up tight. Snakes in his spine. He can’t wait to do it to JC again, so he can watch his face this time.
“Well, shit, JC. No kissing for you, I guess.”
“Awww,” JC says, turning it into a drawn out, satisfied sigh, pushing his still-hard cock against Justin’s again. A shiver runs through Justin’s body.
“JC.”
“What, Justin.” JC slides off and sprawls next to him, pants open and eyes closed, smiling. He’s gorgeous. Justin wants to strangle him.
“Dammit, JC.”
“Mmm.”
Justin lets his head drop back onto the futon. Fucking unbelievable. He reaches down, thinking to take an edge off before trying to walk out through the crowded, noisy club. Who’d have thought JC would be so. That he would. It’s disappointing.
Before he gets there, a warm hand cuffs him and pulls his arm aside. “That’s mine,” JC says in a rough voice, and in an instant he’s on top of Justin again and slithering down his body. Justin groans out loud when he feels JC’s wet tongue.
“You taste like me,” JC says, his voice filled with pleasure, and then he takes Justin deep without warning.
It doesn’t last long, but Justin figures he’s been working up to this for years. JC’s mouth is so hot, and his hair brushes against Justin’s thighs, and he runs one hand over Justin’s abdomen and cups his balls with the other, just the right amount of pressure. Within minutes Justin’s hips are up off the futon and he’s fucking JC’s mouth as hard as he dares, holding JC’s head to him.
After Justin comes, making all kinds of embarrassing noises, JC spends a long time just licking and sucking before he climbs back on the futon. “I feel much better,” he says, throwing his arms out to stretch with a shudder, and then glomping onto Justin’s whole body like a friendly, bony amoeba.
Justin spits out a mouthful of hair as JC hums into his neck.
“I thought we were talking about me.”
“Oh, right,” JC says happily, hugging Justin hard. “Well, you feel better, too.”
“I do?”
“Yes,” JC says, so seriously that Justin has to kiss him.
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