JC was just flowing along with the music, laying back with his headphones on, letting the sounds wind through his thoughts like strands of hair through his fingers, when Justin poked his head around the partly-closed partition and frowned.
“…..ever not high?” he was saying when JC clicked off the player, so JC waved at him and smiled.
“Sure,” he said. “Lots of times. What’s up, J?”
Justin glanced back over his shoulder and slipped into the little compartment, pulling the panel door closed along its track.
“Chris,” he said in a dark voice.
“Ah,” JC said, nodding. He patted the couch next to him and Justin flopped down, pulling the cd player out from under his leg and tossing it onto JC’s stomach.
“He makes me fucking insane, JC. He never shuts up.”
“Yeah,” JC said, pulling the headphones off and winding the cord around them.
“He talks shit all the time! He’s a fucking shit talker. You know how I hate that.”
“Right,” JC said, leaning over to tuck the cd player and headphones carefully into the little niche under the couch. “Uh huh.”
“He thinks it’s so funny to talk shit about me, JC. In front of other people! It’s not funny, JC.”
“No,” JC said, settling back. “Of course not, J.” He pushed his arms over his head in a slow stretch and scrabbled his fingers through his hair, yawning, still buzzing in a comfortable, dreamy sort of way. Justin knocked his elbow away with a noise like a hornet’s nest hit with a stick, very cool.
“You’re not even listening to me! God, JC! Why do my friends all suck?”
JC finished his stretch and his yawn, considering. “Hmm. Do we? Wow, J.”
Justin made a spastic gesture of pure irritation, and it was a sure bet he had no clue how appealing that Blue Glare of Doom from under his eyebrows was, or else he’d never make that face again. That would be a shame. JC patted his leg happily, loving the electric feeling of impending storm, and decided it was just too good not to share.
“Chris!”
Of course the sound Justin made was one of astonishment and outrage, and of course he launched himself onto JC, trying to clap a hand over his mouth, trying to shut him up. It was hard for JC to move fast when he was that stoned, but he was always a pretty good wiggler, so he managed to fend Justin off for a while, until all the struggling, and Justin’s obvious desperation, broke his control and the giggling began.
“What? I’m busy.”
JC was laughing too hard to answer, curled around himself trying to escape all thirteen of Justin’s hands, but Justin sat bolt upright and bellowed, “Nothing, NOTHING. JC’s just being. Never mind, Chris, nothing,” so JC relaxed.
Sure enough, about two seconds later the panel slammed open, and Chris popped in.
“Well, hello there, my pretties. What’s going on?”
His gaze was avid and open, ready for fun, and JC felt a warm sweet something flowing through him, the new something, like a song he and Chris were working on together. “Hey,” he said, grinning. Beside him, Justin made a vaguely disgruntled noise.
“Hey,” Chris said, waggling his eyebrows. “Why is Justin on top of you? Not that I mind. Oh, my, no. By all means, Justin should be on top of you all the time. In fact, Justin should ride around on your back, maybe, like walking porn just for me, because then I… no? Justin?”
JC was snickering too hard to hear Justin’s answer, but then again he didn’t need to anyway. Justin was tense on top of him, all his muscles tightened in defense mode, and the sweet something transformed suddenly into prickly heat, as JC became aware of the spot on his side where his shirt had ridden up and Justin’s bare knee was rubbing against him. He made a thoughtful sound and writhed, carefully, and Justin said, “JC,” in a panicky way and JC snapped alert.
Chris had a look on his face like it was Christmas, like someone had handed him a basketful of candy and puppies and weed. JC realized he had his back arched and his fingers tucked in the waistband of Justin’s shorts, holding on, and he was hard, which was not so shocking or unusual, but so was Justin, sitting with unnatural stillness on top of him.
“Justin says all his friends suck,” JC said, settling back on the couch.
“Oh,” Chris said, nodding. “I imagine some of them do.”
“Some of them,” JC said, and there went the sweet something again, as Chris smiled at him for a few tingling seconds, and turned to Justin.
“JC wants to kiss you, J,” he said, gently.
Justin exploded up, then, practically levitated up off of JC’s body, and Chris said, “Whoa!” and caught him around the shoulders, steadying him. Justin was gasping for breath, pissed off, JC thought, but something else, too. He slid his hand up Justin’s leg, hoping to comfort him, but Justin shuddered against him and pulled away from Chris’s grasp.
“Okay,” he said, his voice shaking. “You two fuckers have got to stop messing with my head.”
Chris slid an arm back around Justin’s shoulders. “Justin, hey. Relax.”
“Relax!” Justin tried moving away again, but Chris held on. “Relax. How can I? You and JC, you’re.” He squirmed against Chris’s hold, and JC closed his eyes briefly at the feel of it.
“J,” Chris said, right into Justin’s ear. Justin shuddered again, and so did JC, a chain reaction. “Look at him.”
Justin swallowed, but he turned those gorgeous eyes on JC, glancing down his body and back up again quickly, mouth hanging open.
JC smiled and tugged at Justin’s waistband. “Hi, J,” he said. “What’re you doing all the way up there?”
“Oh, man, JC.” Justin bit his lip. “I don’t. What about. How.”
“Oh,” JC said, looking at Chris. “Maybe he doesn’t want to kiss me, though.”
“He does,” Chris whispered into Justin’s ear. Justin made a noise that sounded like hunger and tilted his hips, just a little, and the chain reaction started up again. JC made a louder noise and tugged harder at Justin’s shorts, and Justin turned his head with sudden clumsy urgency and kissed Chris.
It was amazing. As JC watched, delighted, Chris opened his eyes wide and then closed them, and grabbed Justin’s head and took over, until Justin was whimpering and rubbing against JC, hands fisted in JC’s shirt. This time when JC writhed, Justin writhed back, a perfectly coordinated push, and a rush of sweet electricity went all through JC and he hissed and slid his hands around to Justin’s ass.
Which of course freaked Justin out. He squeaked and jumped like JC had slapped him, tearing his mouth from Chris’s and scrambling off of JC and off the couch and out of Chris’s reach in a flurry of arms and legs, coming to rest in a defensive little bundle on the other couch in the small compartment, glaring at Chris and JC with the Blue Doom look, intermixed with something like hurt.
“Oops,” JC said.
“Whoa!” Chris drew a shaky hand across his mouth. “Whoa. That was—what happened?”
“JC,” Justin said in a dark voice, and it was just so perfect and familiar that JC couldn’t help a bark of laughter.
“See,” he said. “Justin doesn’t want to kiss me.”
“Oh,” Chris said. “Ah. Justin, come here.”
Justin’s eyebrows drew together. “Fuck no, Chris. I am out of here. Y’all are just fucking with me now, fuckers, and I’m not going to, I’m not, no. No.”
“Justin.”
“Chris.”
It was a stand off, Chris kneeling next to JC over here, Justin crouching on the pillows over there. JC felt something prickling in his chest, watching them, and a weird sinking feeling in his gut, and he thought he knew what to do. It was hard to move, hard to lose the happy, dreamy buzz, but he peeled himself from the couch cushions and stood up.
“Okay, I’m gonna. I’m a little hungry. I’ll, uh. See you later.” He looked at Chris, who was looking at Justin, and headed for the door.
He had almost gotten the panel shut again when he heard Justin speak.
“JC.”
“Yeah,” he said, leaning back through the doorway, trying for serene and unaffected, keeping his eyes on the floor.
“Where ya goin’?”
“I said, J,” JC said, flapping a hand. “You want a sandwich? I could, uh. Make you one. Later. You too, Chris.”
Chris said nothing. After a minute, JC shook his head and started to back through the doorway.
“JC, jeez. Don’t be such a fucking drama queen. I mean, what the fuck.”
Chris snickered, and JC yanked back the panel and frowned in at both of them. Except, Chris was still over here, sitting on JC’s couch, and Justin was still over there, staring at JC with big eyes in a pale, serious face.
“What,” JC said.
“Drama queen,” Justin said. Chris snickered again. JC glared at him, and he raised his eyebrows.
“Okay, that’s,” JC said, and gave up.
He came back in and slammed the panel hard, crossing his arms, and it was not the kind of three-way he had envisioned, a little triangle of tension in the back of the stupid bus.
“JC, calm down,” Chris said, fixing him with a hard stare. JC narrowed his eyes back, but Chris just smiled then, a private smile full of that irresistible fucking sweet stuff. “I believe Justin would actually like it very much if you kissed him. Is that correct, Justin?”
Justin made a horrible face, a grimace that seemed to say, “Okay, fine, whatever.” JC felt his own face relax, and the corners of his reluctant mouth tried to turn up.
“But Justin, because he is a delicate virginal diva punk, would also like it very much if you slowed things down a little bit. Yes, Justin?”
“Yes,” Justin said in a strangled way, turning Blue Doom upon Chris, who appeared unaffected, as usual. JC felt the tiny smile transforming into a wide grin, and the happy buzz was back, even better than before.
“Okay, then. Could we fucking move on from the negotiations now and get to the sexing? Jesus, you two.” Chris lay back on the couch as though exhausted, and JC and Justin gave him the finger simultaneously, turning to laugh at each other.
“Well,” JC said. “I suppose I, yes.”
Justin eyed him doubtfully. “Then could you, I mean. Slowly.”
“Oh, J.” JC stalked across the little compartment, licking his lips. “I can do slowly.” He smiled down at Justin, who looked over at Chris with alarm, and then made an obvious attempt to relax.
“He’s worth it, J,” Chris said from behind them.
“Aww,” JC said, intent on Justin’s sexy sprawl, those long legs, the way he kept hiding his eyes, glancing up through his lashes and away. Slow would be difficult, but Justin would be worth it, and Chris would enjoy the show.
“But not, like, glacial,” Justin said. “Come on, already.”
With a surprised laugh, JC launched himself onto Justin, figuring he deserved it. Justin eeped and grabbed him as he landed, opening his mouth to bitch, no doubt, but JC lowered his head until his own mouth was barely touching Justin’s, and stopped there.
“One of these times we’ll find a way to shut Chris up,” JC whispered.
“Unh,” Justin said, and that was answer enough. JC could hear Chris saying something behind him, of course, but then Justin lunged up and took his mouth in a hard kiss, and JC thought hazily that maybe Justin could be persuaded to change his definition of slow.
October, 2005
lost rooms 