thanks to synecdochic and sola_fiamma for hand-holding. happy hanukah, nonchop!
Ready, Steady, Go
Justin was a patient, reasonable guy, all things considered.
He was able to wait patiently for Chris to get out of the shower each morning, even though Chris took an ungodly amount of time in there (unlike some people who actually needed a lot of time to wash their crazy stupid hair). He was able to wait patiently for Lance to get over the foreign language thing, even though they had been over here a really long time and Lance still acted like every radio host was going to ask them stuff in English (which, ok, maybe Justin got that confused look too sometimes, but not anymore, not when photographers were around). He was able to wait patiently for Joey to finish picking up whatever girl had caught his eye that night, even though Joey was supposed to be keeping an eye on him (not that Justin needed watching - he was 16, for crying out loud!).
But for all he was patient and reasonable - and really, he was - Justin was getting mighty sick of waiting on JC.
"I mean, we haven't even had sex yet," he complained one night to Lance and Joey, who were playing their seventy-millionth round of Speed. Justin didn't know why Joey even bothered playing. It had only taken him four weeks of knowing Lance to learn that you should never play cards with Lance. Not if you wanted to win, anyway, and Justin always wanted to win.
"Really?" Lance asked distractedly, slapping down the cards so fast that Justin couldn't keep track of them. "What's with all the moaning, then?"
Justin flushed. "Y'all can hear that?"
"How thick did you think these walls were?"
"Oh." Justin had never really thought about it. He was suddenly intensely grateful that his mom and Diane were sharing the room down at the end of the hall.
"Actually," Lance smirked, "it's more like ohhh, ohhhhh, oh god, oh god-"
"Okay, alright." Joey grimaced over the fan of his cards. "Is it absolutely necessary that we talk about this now? With me in hearing range and everything?"
"Oh, like you care." Lance threw down the last of his cards and held up his empty hands triumphantly. "That's what, fifty-seven times in a row?"
"I don't wanna hear about their raunchy sex adventures, dude, they're my friends. And it's forty-six, tops."
"But that's what I'm saying, it's not raunchy sex adventures." Justin rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. "I wish it was raunchy sex adventures. Bring on the raunchy sex adventures, dammit!"
"Like I said, if it's not sex adventures, what's with the moaning?" Lance gathered up the cards and began to shuffle.
"Oh, you know." Justin waved his hand abstractly in the air. "Blow-jobs and stuff."
"And stuff," he heard Joey say. "Thank god for the kid's lack of descriptive abilities. Yay for home school. Yay, yay, yay, says my innocent little mind."
Justin blushed again, but didn't look over - he could totally handle sex talk, even if Joey couldn't.. "Well, you know. We do stuff. Just not, you know. Sex. Sex sex." And it was stupid, really, because he had made it really clear to JC that he was more than ready for more than blow-jobs. Not that blow-jobs weren't great; they were full-on awesome, mind-shatteringly amazing, and he should probably be grateful that C was willing to go that far with him.
When they had first gotten together, a few months back, JC had been all slow and tentative and gentle, which had been perfect, because Justin had had no idea what he was doing. All he had known was that his hero-worship admiration for JC from when he was twelve had shifted and grown into something bigger, something stronger, something pulsing and fierce and alive in his blood, something that kept him up at night, hard and writhing in his bed, trying his best not to moan JC's name when he brought himself off.
And then one night, he had slipped up, been a little too loud, and JC had heard him. JC had heard him, and instead of freezing and running from the room, instead of shutting him out or going all distant, as Justin had feared, JC had come over and sat on the edge of the bed, had reached out and gripped Justin by the shoulder when he tried to roll away in his embarrassment. JC had told him it was ok, that it was more than ok. JC had ducked his head, smiling in that crinkle-eyed joyous way, and had leaned in to kiss him, and that had been that.
And now Justin had a killer great boyfriend, someone to chill with when Chris was being too much even for him, someone to rag on when Lance was being too fucking sensitive, someone to rehearse with when Joey didn't want to do the routine again, someone to talk to when his mom was being too smothering - which, yes, he loved his mom and he was glad she was there, but god, she was always there! JC was always available, but never pushing himself on Justin. He was as discreet as he needed to be in public, and as attentive as Justin needed him to be in private.
Well. Almost as attentive as Justin needed.
"So, no, like, I really want to do it," he explained, rolling back onto his stomach, the scratchy hotel carpet tickling the skin of his abdomen as he rested his chin in the cup of his hands. "But I think he thinks I'm not ready, or something. Which is total bullshit, because I am so ready."
"I'm not ready," Joey moaned. "Virginity is a precious, wonderful thing, J. A precious, wonderful, beautiful thing."
"Which you lost when you were how old?" Lance asked, smirking again, and Joey flung a pillow at him.
"Not the point. The point is-"
"Fourteen? Fifteen?"
"The POINT is-"
"But I'm ready, I want to, and he wants to, I know he does-"
"Would you assholes shut up and let me make my point?" Joey glared first at Lance, then at Justin. Justin bit his lip, trying not to laugh. Joey playing mother hen was the funniest damn thing, and Lance clearly thought so too, because Lance wasn't even trying not to laugh. "Like I was saying, maybe JC is waiting for a reason."
Justin didn't see what reason could possibly be good enough, and said so. Joey rolled his eyes. "Is not going to jail a good enough reason, huh?"
Justin snorted. "Oh please. 'Cause I'm going to turn him in." He squinted suddenly at Joey. "You wouldn't turn him in, would you?"
"Right, 'cause defending your kiddie honor is totally worth the destruction of this singing thing I've got nothing riding on anyway." Joey reached behind his back to grab the other pillow, but Justin saw it coming a mile away, and rolled to the side before it could hit him in the face. "No one's turning C in."
"Then help me out. How do I get him to . . . you know . . . " Justin pulled the pillow to him and sat up, curling his legs underneath him. Lance laughed.
"J, if you can't say it-"
"I can say it!" Justin scowled. "How do I get him to fuck me?" Joey groaned, and Justin sighed. "Fine, Sister Josephina, go all the way with me, like totally give me his pin, however you wanna put it so you're not scarred or whatever."
"Have you tried just asking him?" Lance began dealing the cards with a sharp efficiency. "It sounds crazy, but it just might work."
Justin frowned. "I haven't, like, asked him like that or anything, but he knows what I want. He's got to know." He didn't know how JC could possibly have missed it - these last few times, Justin had done just about everything short of asking. He hadn't even really had to plan it - his legs had wrapped automatically around JC's waist, arching into the smooth heat of the friction between them. His hips had tilted up, begging with the very slant of the angle, when JC's hand had been wrapped slickly around his cock, his every movement urging contact somewhere lower, somewhere almost hungrier. "Please," he had gasped, and he hadn't been completely sure of what he was asking for - more, somehow, although what could be more than JC's mouth on his, JC's hands on his bare-skinned back?
He could only think of one thing. And he was getting desperate for it.
"It's not like I can just ask him," he concluded, trying his best to ignore Lance's tolerantly amused expression. "He's still getting over his wiggin'. He doesn't need all these reminders that I don't actually know what the hell I'm doing."
"Aw, we won't tell anyone," Joey promised, and his grin was so smug, Justin couldn't resist flinging the pillow back in his direction. He had to act like that, like he always knew, and Joey knew it. Justin was just a little out of his depth here - this was new to him, this aching kind of need that thrummed through his whole body when he had JC's hands curved tightly around his hips, and all he could really figure for certain was that JC was going to be the one to satisfy that need, and it had to be soon. Or else he'd explode into a million tiny bits of frustration, and he really wanted to visit New York before he died of sheer, frantic lust, thanks very much.
"I just, I don't know," he muttered, dropping his eyes to the ugly carpet before lifting them again to look evenly at the opposite wall. "I want it. And it sucks, because I know he wants it too. He's just . . . not. And I don't know how to get him to."
"You know what you should do," Lance said thoughtfully. "You should bet him."
Justin blinked, and blinked again. "Bet him what?"
Lance shrugged. "Anything. Basketball. Whatever. Something you'll definitely win, but something he definitely won't be able to pass on. And then when you win, he has to do whatever you want." Justin frowned, and Lance sighed. "Whatever you want, J. If he really wants it too, and you lay it all out to him like that, you'll be golden."
"Does anyone else feel like we're in some really fucked-up teen movie?" Joey plaintively addressed the air.
Justin thought about it, thought about the chances of JC actually going for it, and you know? He could see it. He could actually see it happening. He could feel the smile tugging across his face - you could always count on Lance to come up with some genius plan. "And I could just make it obvious what I want when he comes to the room that night, expecting me to collect." He was flat-out grinning now, because damn, this could maybe actually work.
"Or you could, oh my GOD, not discuss JC's corruption of your ASS!" Joey hollered, grabbing at the pillow and clutching it around his head, covering his ears. Lance laughed, and Justin couldn't help but join in. Joey was such a dork, seriously. It was the perfect plan, indirect but foolproof, and the best part? They had a whole two days off coming up, and my god, he was finally going to get what he wanted, what he had wanted forever. It was absolutely perfect.
"Oh J, you gotta be hurtin'!" Chris crowed from his seat next to Lance, and Justin scowled at him. It was easy to crow from the sidelines, he guessed. And he could beat Chris at a game of Horse any day, any time, no question. He could beat anyone at Horse. Even JC. Typically. He knew that for a fact, because he had beat JC way back on the MMC backlot, and he had beat JC when they were mad flirting and playing pick-up games against each other back in Orlando, and he had even beat JC a few weeks ago, when they were killing time between stupid fairgrounds shows in the stupid German countryside.
Well, okay, that had been largely due to the fact that Joey had been on JC's team, and Joey sucked at basketball in ways that were indescribable to the normal person. Passing wasn't that hard a concept, really, was it? But no, apparently, it was.
This game, however, really sucked, in an all-encompassing way. He was a letter behind, and JC's grin was just a touch too smug for his taste. He was better at basketball, and he knew it, everyone knew it. Chris knew it, even though Chris was taunting him like a total jackass, like he knew what was riding on the outcome. Which he didn't, because Justin had sworn Lance and Joey to total secrecy regarding the whole "I want JC to fuck me" conversation. Chris was awesome in almost every regard, and there was no way he didn't know about Justin and JC, but he wasn't someone you talked to about that. Lance understood, because he was Justin's age, and he was sort of eyeing Chris from afar anyway, so the age thing didn't matter to him. Joey understood, because Joey understood wanting to sleep with people, and hey, if it was your friend? More power to you. But Chris got a little weird about it - not a lot, just a little.
"Timberlake Timber-sucks!" Chris called out, and Justin decided that ok, Chris was a lot weird, all the time. Weird and not particularly helpful, because his glee at Justin's suckage (semi-suckage, though, because clearly he was just having an off day) wasn't helping Justin's self-confidence any, and he'd need all of that he could muster if he was going to pull this off. If JC made one more basket, all of Justin's carefully constructed plans would fall through. He wouldn't be able to broach the subject to JC, and JC would probably make him realphabetize his CD collection, which would take up all of the precious two-day vacation. Stupid Lance and his stupid ideas. Justin knew he never should have listened to him. He wheeled around to shoot Lance a glare - dumbass just waved and gave him a thumbs-up. Thumbs-up! Whatever.
The sound of the ball hitting the court made Justin spin and dart forward automatically, but JC gracefully side-stepped him, pivoting, his feet leaving the ground in a perfect jump-shot. Justin squeezed his eyes shut, praying that the next sound he heard would be the resounding reverberation of the hoop or the backboard as the ball bounced off it. His prayers were in vain - the faint swish of the net was quickly swallowed up in Chris' hooting laughter, and Justin felt JC's hand clap him on the back.
"Good game, J," he heard, and he opened his eyes to JC's wide smile. His eyes were dancing - he knew probably better than anyone how much pride Justin took in his game, and Justin figured he had to be feeling pretty good. JC tilted his head, making sure Chris wasn't watching too closely, and slid his hand down to squeeze Justin's hip. "You played good," he murmured, leaning in to nuzzle at Justin's head - he wouldn't be able to do that much longer, Justin knew, which made him kind of sad. "So what were the terms? You have to do anything I want?"
"Yeah," Justin sighed. He really, really wished JC had a dirtier mind. "Anything you want," he sighed again, trying to infuse his voice with sultry heat as he swiveled into JC's touch.
"Anything at all?"
"I'm totally yours for the night." God. He could take a hint, couldn't he? He was 20. He'd had boyfriends before. Please, god, let him take the hint.
"J, you're totally mine anyway," JC said with a chuckle, and for a second, Justin's heart leapt. Maybe- "Chris completely screwed up my CDs last week. 9 ok for you?"
Fuck. Justin smoothed out the frustration on his face. "You won the game, C, it's whenever's good for you."
"Then 9 it is." JC bent to retrieve the ball, and handed it back to Justin. "I gotta go catch Chris, you go shower, ok?"
Justin watched JC leave the half-court, feeling completely deflated. "Now what am I gonna do?" he complained as Lance came trotting over, looking half-amused and half-sympathetic. "I have to fucking put his music in order for him. He'll probably sit on the bed and watch Roseanne reruns or something. That's so fucked-up."
"Maybe he'll make organizing his CDs worth your while."
"This is all your fault," Justin felt compelled to point out, in case Lance had missed the message. Lance just shrugged.
"Hey, I tried to help." He patted Justin's shoulder, and Justin didn't feel comforted in the slightest. A whole free night wasted. JC probably wouldn't even want to make out. He took his CDs way seriously. Justin was never going to get to have sex - never.
9 o'clock rolled around, and Justin reluctantly headed upstairs to his and JC's room. It was just as he had feared - he slid in the keycard and opened the door to find JC sitting on the floor, his massive CD book open before him, tons of liner note booklets already scattered around him in colorful disarray.
JC looked up, a bright smile on his face. "Hey, you ready to get crackin'?"
"I guess." Justin shut the door and came to JC's side, crouching down next to him. He put a hand on JC's arm, stilling his motion. "This is a golden opportunity, C," he said suddenly, because he had to try again. JC was up for it, he knew he was, he had to be. He just had to get him thinking in the right direction.
"I know, J. You know I hate alphabetizing crap. Your idea couldn't have come at a better time. Fuckin' Chris, man," JC shook his head. "He put Tori Amos back next to LL Cool J, though I guess that means he listened to Tori Amos, so it wasn't a total loss or whatever."
Justin smiled patiently - JC took his CDs way too seriously sometimes - and ran his hand up to JC's neck, gently coaxing him to turn his head. He leaned forward, nibbling at the curve of JC's jaw, inwardly elated at the soft, immediately noise of pleasure that JC made. "You want to make the most of this opportunity, right?" he whispered, flicking his tongue against the hollow of JC's ear. JC hummed in his throat, rich and low, and Justin grinned.
"Justin." JC sounded slightly reproving and regretful, like he didn't really want to say Justin's name in that tone that meant wait, wait. "Justin. Later. I won, remember?" He pushed a little on Justin's chest, forcing him back.
"You can keep winning," Justin tried, but JC just smiled and shook his head.
"Your terms were anything, anything I wanted. Right?"
Justin nodded cautiously.
"This is what I want right now." JC nodded towards the CDs. "Okay?"
Justin couldn't believe it. He really, really couldn't. This was seriously what JC wanted him to do. If he could just open his mouth and let the words come, to suggest what he wanted, to say it right out straight - but he couldn’t, he just couldn't. Shit. "Okay," he said resignedly. He was never, ever, EVER going to have sex. He could feel the slump of his shoulders, the disappointment washing over him, but he had to pull it together, because if JC didn't want to sleep with him now, he'd never want to sleep with him all pouty and crap.
He looked up, and saw that JC was looking at him. He kept on looking, and Justin tried his best to look willing and not too sulky, to keep that disappointment from being too evident. He had the promise of fooling around later, after all, and god, he didn't want to screw that up. He waited for JC to hand over the CD book, to shove the liner notes in his direction, to get up and turn on the TV - but JC just sat there, gazing thoughtfully at Justin until Justin felt his face begin to turn red.
"What? I said okay."
"I heard you."
Justin sat back, slightly nonplussed. JC's eyes were still thoughtful and considering, but they were trained on him with an increasing focus, something rising in them. Justin wasn't sure what it was. He waited, and waited, and the silence stretched between them as JC's eyes grew darker and darker.
"You know what, J?" he said finally, a note of decisiveness in his voice. "I changed my mind." His tone was colored all differently now, lower and richer and threaded with some emotion that confused Justin a bit. It wasn't the easy acquiescence with which JC usually met Justin's demands, his needy touches, his kisses.
"You changed-"
"Sssh. Listen to me."
The air in the room seemed to be changing around him, Justin thought. It was growing heavier, thicker, slower, with every passing second. He concentrated on breathing, concentrated on JC.
"Anything I want," JC repeated again. He rose to his feet, pulling Justin with him, and walked him backwards steadily, towards the bed. Justin's pulse immediately picked up, double or triple-time, as the rise of anticipation hit him. He couldn’t look away from whatever was making JC's eyes so compellingly dark, so when the backs of his knees hit the mattress, he was unbalanced, and found himself half-sprawled on the bed with JC looming suddenly over him. He swallowed - his feeling of triumph at making later come sooner was being all messed with by whatever JC was doing. This wasn't JC letting him take the lead, like how he was used to. But he lifted his chin stubbornly to hold JC's gaze. This was good. He trusted C.
"Do you trust me?" JC asked, and Justin blinked at the vocalization of his thoughts. He swallowed again, a bit more dryly this time, and licked his lips.
"Yes." He tried to sound steady and assured. JC looked at him searchingly, then lifted a hand and slid it smoothly under Justin's t-shirt, his palm gliding up Justin's stomach, coming to rest in the center of Justin's chest. Justin could feel his heart hammering madly against his ribcage. JC had to be able to feel it too. But if he did, he made no mention of it.
"What I want-" he paused, and Justin could feel that intensity deepen as JC looked right into him, fucking though him, like he had already memorized everything about him and wanted to make sure Justin knew it. "All I want, ever, is you, happy. So I want to give you what you want. But I don't know if you can handle me giving it to you."
"Yes, I can," Justin blurted - he knew it, he knew it all along, JC wanted it, finally, god - and JC laughed and pushed Justin flat on the bed, bringing his other hand up to hold Justin's hip, his fingers digging in firmly, almost, but not quite, painfully.
"I don't know. I don't know if you're really ready." Justin wanted to scream. Or kick. But if he did either of those things, JC would probably stop touching him, and he really didn't want that to happen. "But the thing is," JC continued, tightening his fingers on Justin's hip until Justin wanted to squirm under the pressure. It was so fucking powerful, and it was sending all the blood in his body straight down to his cock. "The thing is, you're gorgeous, and you know it. And plus, in case I haven't made it clear?" He leaned down, and brushed his lips over the side of Justin's neck. "I'm kind of in love with you. So you tell me one more time that you're ready, and whether or not you really are, I'm gonna do you. I'm gonna do you, and it’s gonna be my way, and ready or not? You're gonna love it."
Okay, Justin figured, trying hazily to assess his options as JC's tongue traced delicate patterns on his throat, he didn't really know what JC's way was. But whatever it was, JC was right. He was going to love it. There was no way anything on earth could be worse than not doing whatever JC said, right here, right now. He had never wanted anything so badly in his entire life. "C," he said, trying to sound serious even though he was pretty sure his voice was trying to crack on him. "I'm ready. My GOD, am I ready. Come on."
"You sure now?"
Justin struggled upwards, anxious to capture JC's mouth in a kiss he knew he could control, but JC's hand on his chest was solid and unyielding, and his hips were being held completely still. He had no leverage at all. "C, yes, damn, I'm sure, let me up a second-"
JC smiled, broadly, possessively. "I thought you might say that. I could tell."
"You could, um. Tell?"
"Justin. Come on. You're sixteen. You're as subtle as a searchlight." JC sounded amused at least, and not annoyed, which was relieving. "But you're sixteen. And I'm . . . shit. You thought I didn't want to sleep with you?" JC's hand shifted, sliding to the side, so that his fingers were circling the hardening edge of Justin's nipple, sharp and light, and Justin fought against groaning. "You think I don't want to fuck you? God." His voice grew gravelly and rough, and Justin was suddenly painfully hard, and achingly aware of it. "I've got news for you, J. You're not the only one that's been dying for it."
Justin's mouth felt cottony and dry. His palms, pressed to the mattress, felt burning-hot; his legs tingled, and he could feel the muscles of his thighs tensing, trying not to lift and wrap around JC's body. "I knew it," he managed, trying to sound as self-assured as JC, but not too smug, because hello, what had he been saying all along? But smugness wasn't hot, he was pretty sure, and he was sort of invested in capitalizing on his hotness right now.
"So far, it's been pretty good, right? I suck you off, you jerk me off, and that's good, right?" JC's mouth came down close to Justin's ear, his breath hot and damp, and Justin shivered. "We've been good together so far." Without waiting for an answer, JC ran the tip of his tongue around the rim of Justin's ear, delicate, tracing the shell, while his hand plucked and pinched at Justin's nipple. Justin's mouth fell open, and his eyes began to ease shut as the sensations coursed through him. It was always so good with JC, no matter what they did.
"But you want more," JC continued, the ghosts of the words brushing against Justin's cheek. "And J, believe me." He ran his tongue over Justin's lower lip. "I want more too. Have for awhile."
Justin opened his mouth, letting JC swipe inside with his tongue. God, he tasted good, he tasted so good, and Justin wanted more. He fought against JC's hand, striving upwards, his lips and tongue battling with JC's, finally getting that hard, hungry kiss he'd been needing for a million years at this point.
"Not so fast." JC pulled back, and shit, Justin might possibly have whimpered. That wasn't hot. Or wait, maybe it was, because JC's eyes widened and his hand pressed down even harder. Justin's hips had to be making permanent indentations in the mattress. Oh well, management could probably reimburse the hotel or something. "Wanted it for awhile. You too, huh?"
"Me too," Justin agreed quickly.
"You're gonna have to wait a bit more."
What the fuck? "What the fuck? C, I swear, I'm so not in the mood to do your damn CDs now . . . "
Justin trailed off as JC released his hip and moved his hand up, inching smoothly under Justin's shirt. He lifted his other hand and pulled upwards, tugging Justin's shirt off, bending to follow the rising hem with his tongue, painting on Justin's skin, light and tortuous. Justin groaned and arched, letting JC pull the shirt all the way off, and settled back on his forearms. He tried to settle back, anyway, but once his shirt was off, JC's eyes got even darker, if that was possible. All Justin could see was the dilated black, he couldn't look away as JC started crawling up his body, forcing him to scoot backwards on the bed, pulling himself with his hands, scrambling with his legs, until he was back against the headboard with JC on his hands and knees over him.
Justin closed his eyes, not in terror but in anticipation, as JC took one of his wrists and turned it over. He dropped a kiss, open-mouthed and damply warm, into Justin's palm, and began suckling his way up Justin's arm, pausing for a long second at the dip of Justin's inner elbow, and Justin didn't think it was humanly possible to control the full-body shivers that shook him. JC continued, biting and kissing up over Justin's bicep, testing the muscle beneath his lips and teeth, and then lifting Justin's arm, pressing it back against the wall. He repeated it with Justin's other arm, moving slowly up, and when both of Justin's arms were up, his hands clenched in helpless fists, JC pulled back.
"Leave them there."
Justin gulped and nodded. JC ran a teasing finger over the muscles of Justin's stomach like he was testing him, and Justin could feel his cock jump in his shorts. He twitched violently, but he didn't move his arms. JC smiled approvingly. "Good." He crouched back, stripping off his own shirt, and Justin licked his lips. JC had said he was gorgeous, which meant that JC had to know how hot he was himself. JC had smooth, pale skin and strong, stark muscles, darkly pinked nipples, perfect arms, shoulders . . . Justin swallowed, reminding himself to keep his arms up.
"I don't want you to move them. I want you to do exactly what I say. You be quiet when I tell you. You be loud when I tell you. And you don't move until I say. You got it?"
"You won the bet, man."
JC laughed. "I did. The bet you insisted on making. Did you plan to lose?"
Justin bristled. "At basketball? Are you kidding me?"
"So you planned to win. What were you going to make me do?" JC asked, as his fingers began to dance along the waistband of Justin's jeans, tapping at the button and tracing over the zipper. There was no way he couldn't feel how hard Justin was. "Your laundry? Your homework?" Justin tried to speak, but then JC unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped them, and all the words trickled out of Justin's head. JC leaned in, his mouth fiercely hot at Justin's ear as he pressed the flat of his hand against Justin's trapped erection. "Were you gonna have me fuck you, J?"
Justin convulsed, lifting his wrists - but remembered just in time, and slammed them back against the wall as JC stroked roughly down the length of his cock, the fabric of his shorts growing damper with each up-down movement.
"You like that."
"You know I do," Justin said through gritted teeth. This was great and all - god, this was fan-fucking-tastic - but the hard, steady friction was driving him crazy, and he couldn’t really thrust up into it. "God, JC, let me. Let me move, C."
"Oh no," JC murmured, dropping his head to razor the points of his teeth across Justin's collarbone. "I don't think so, not yet. You just stay put." He gave Justin two more harsh rubs of his palm, and Justin felt it rising, crap, no way was he coming already. He fought it, grimacing, and he heard JC laugh. He sighed in relief - or was it frustration? Things were getting all cloudy in his head - when JC moved his hand to tug at Justin's jeans, pulling them down with his shorts.
It wasn't like Justin hadn't been naked in front of JC before - he had, lots of times. But for some reason, he felt more exposed then he ever had before, bare and hard and trying his best to match JC's gaze. He felt helpless, insanely turned on, and giddy with the knowledge that JC was going to make good on the promise blazing in his blatant appraisal of Justin's body.
"You are . . . shit, Justin." JC shook his head as he eased out of his own jeans. "You know how good you look like that?" He curved his hand around Justin's calf, sliding it up and watching the sensation flicker across Justin's face when his palm grazed the hair on the back of Justin's thigh. "All trusting, all willing, you're so hungry for it, aren't you?"
"I-"
"Sssh. You just stay like that. You just keep those arms up there. Anything I want, remember?"
"C, please-" Justin choked, and JC growled in the back of his throat, his hand curling to dig his nails into the tender flesh of Justin's inner thigh, shoving his legs apart and crawling up to kneel between them.
"Anything, J. I said sssh."
Justin bit his lower lip and tilted his head back, resting it on the headboard, staring at the ceiling. He didn't know what he had been expecting; he certainly hadn't thought this was the way JC was talking about. But god, god. It was too much, almost, but he could take it, he was ready for anything.
"That's right," he heard JC murmur, "you just try to keep control. I wanna see you lose it." JC's fingers were brushing lightly upwards, his nails scratching gentle, insistent circles, oh god, right by Justin's balls. Justin wanted to shirt closer, or shift away, or something, but he didn't dare move. "I want you hot and begging for it. You hot yet, J? You ready to beg me?"
Justin whimpered behind the tight press of his closed lips, but he didn't answer. "Oh, quick learner, so good," JC said approvingly, and his fingertips swept upwards and over to caress Justin's balls, way too fucking lightly, tickling and teasing. Justin's back arched. Some strange, needy sound escaped from his throat, and he could feel his body straining forward. He forced himself still, but he couldn't stop the high-pitched keening noises as JC tortured his balls, dropping light touches, licking his fingers and bringing them back wet and teasing.
Justin's mouth dropped open when JC began to press down ever so slightly harder, and he wailed softly, but JC wouldn't let up. He just kept playing, rolling Justin's balls on the damp, sticky tips of his fingers, totally ignoring Justin's cock, which had never been harder, had never screamed louder for attention. Justin turned his head dazedly - JC was watching his face, his smile ferally gleeful.
"You want me to touch you?" he asked, and Justin nodded blindly. "What do you want, J? You can tell me now."
"Oh god, oh god, JC," Justin babbled, feeling the words trip on their way past his tongue. "Yes, touch me, please, oh please-"
"Begging already, god, you're so easy," JC groaned, and he turned his hand to cup Justin's balls, cradling their weight and rubbing with his thumb. Justin hissed and unclenched his fists, pressing the backs of his tingling hands against the wall. "I could touch you like this some more-"
"Please, C, please-"
"Or I could do this-" JC brought his hand up to Justin's open, panting mouth. "Lick it," he instructed hoarsely, and Justin lapped frantically, eagerly, his tongue curling sloppily around JC's fingers. JC watched with a hungry fire in his eyes, and when he pulled his hand away, Justin saw that his other hand was moving slowly between his legs, jerking himself off.
Justin shuddered at the sight - it was intensely hot, the ripple of JC's arm muscle as he squeezed and stroked himself, and coupled with the sensation of JC's wet hand wrapping suddenly, purposefully around Justin's cock - it was nearly too much. Justin moaned and his hips rolled up, his lower back screaming at the angle, but unable to help himself.
"Do you like that?"
"Yes, oh god, yes-"
"Could you come like this?"
Justin moaned louder, the steady rhythm of JC's hand matching the pulse of the blood through his body.
"You're not going to, baby." JC leaned in, releasing Justin's cock just as he licked at Justin's lips, and Justin kissed him desperately, his tongue slamming into JC's, fighting and pleading and so, so needy. His arms felt like they were on fire as his hands twisted helplessly over his head and JC licked brutally into his mouth. God, this was hell, this was heaven, this was-
This was pure fucking agony, JC's forefinger pushing into Justin's mouth, salty and slick, and Justin closed on it, sucking wildly, lavishly, before it was withdrawn. Justin gasped for breath and choked on the air when he felt JC's wet finger linger teasingly over his balls and slide downwards to press at his entrance, shifting over the muscle there.
"I could do this, make you come like this." JC husked, his mouth still working at the corner of Justin's jaw, sliding down to his shoulder and biting, fucking biting at the trembling cords of his neck.
"Oh, oh, oh god, oh god, C, let me move," Justin begged, his hips trying to jerk upwards. He felt dizzy and light, and the ache that was so new to him, he could feel it, nasty and low, twisting in his gut, making him writhe at the faint pressure of JC's finger.
"I don't know," JC mused, and Justin sobbed.
"Please C, please, please, I want it, I want you, please, oh-"
JC tipped his head to the side. "I don't think so. Not just yet. You keep 'em up." And he pushed with his finger, dry and tight, and Justin's hips froze, his legs tense, every sensation in his body sparking powder-keg trails of nerves to his ass, to his cock. It wasn't deep at all, maybe two knuckles, but Justin already felt cored and searing.
"Damn," he whispered, and JC withdrew his finger, leaving Justin feeling empty. He wanted more. "Please C, will you please, god-"
"You're so fucking hot," JC muttered. "Okay, okay. Flip over, J, you ready for this?" He backed off the bed in a few jerky movements, his usual grace hampered by his angrily red cock, fully hard and leaking, and god, that was gonna be inside him, Justin thought, and whoa, full-body shivers again. He brought his arms down gingerly, feeling the prickle as the blood returned to them.
"Over, I said." JC was back, standing by the bedside, a bottle of lube and a condom in his hand. Justin swallowed and moved onto his hands and knees. He heard the crackle of tearing foil - and hey, did JC just carry that stuff around with him all the time? Maybe JC had been gearing up for this after all. Justin felt a warm rush of happiness, golden contentment mixed with a fierce surge of arousal - JC was such a killer boyfriend.
Then all thoughts drained out of his mind and he gasped - JC was spreading him, sliding a hand slick with chilly lube between the cheeks of his ass, slipping down to give Justin's cock a few steady, delicious pulls. Justin shivered when he felt JC behind him, warm and solid, bending to lick at the curve of his spine.
"So hot," JC repeated, his voice think and slurred. His tongue trailed down towards Justin's ass, and Justin wriggled, breathless, he needed it, he wanted it.
"Please," he cried softly, looking over his shoulder at JC, who was flushed and breathing heavily, his eyes sparkling with want. "Please, JC, please fuck me, okay?"
"Shit," JC hissed. "Say that again."
Justin would have felt triumphant if he could have felt anything except pure, stark need, howling through every inch of his body. "Fuck me, please fuck me, I want you." He felt JC's hand grasp his hip, firm and steadying, and he took a deep breath, trying not to just push his ass back like a total slut. "Please, oh god, please fuck me, C, I love you, oh please."
"I love you too," JC breathed, and he pushed in.
Justin's eyes slammed shut against the sudden sting of tears, because holy fuck, that hurt. It was just the head, just shallowly inside, but my GOD, he felt like his insides were on fire. But that ache was on fire too, raging in his stomach, spiraling his senses into a haze of godgodmore - there was pleasure with that pain, if he could just get to it, if JC could just get him there. "Please," he whispered as he heard JC's shuddering exhalation. He could feel JC's restraint. "Come on, C, come on, please."
"Are you - yeah, okay."
Justin concentrated on breathing, concentrated on relaxing, concentrated on the pulse of his cock between his legs as JC kept pushing in, then pulling out, then pushing back in, slowly loosening him, letting him get used to the thick, solid presence of JC's dick in his ass. He felt full to bursting, his already-weak arms trembling beneath him, and when JC reached around to stroke his cock, he couldn't take it anymore. He collapsed to his forearms, and JC's hand was trapped, hot and moving fast in a tight, sweaty grip. He went deeper and deeper still, and Justin gasped with every thrust.
"Oh god - oh god - oh shit, oh god-"
"It's good?" JC panted.
"Oh shit, C, yeah, oh god, it's getting - oh fuck, yes," Justin moaned as JC hit a slow stride, a rhythm of inoutinout that rasped along every inch of Justin's ass, his hand perfect and - and nothing, just perfect around Justin's cock. He could hear every sound that JC made, it was, god, and his cock was so hard, and JC was so hard inside him, hitting deeper now, firmer, and there was something there, something deep inside, that made red waves of electricity flicker behind his eyes, energy blue and wild through his bones, and he lifted his ass to JC's hips.
"Oh you, oh you, jesus," JC swore, and Justin could feel it coming, the stutter in JC's rhythm, the convulsive clasp of JC's hand, fingers digging into his skin, and another swipe of JC's tongue across Justin's spine, licking at the sweat Justin could feel covering him. Justin worked a hand beneath him, meeting JC's at the head of his cock. JC grabbed his hand and suddenly he was stroking himself, JC's hand guiding him, JC fucking him, and it was just, just, just all there, right there, everything at once, and so. Fucking. Good.
Justin came first, in a flurry of white noise, pounding in his ears, "C, C," choking and gasping. He came hard, warm and emptying, and it wracked his body in waves, shockingly strong, and he nearly blacked out. He slumped forward, his cock still spitting out onto his hand, and JC growled and gripped his hips, sliding, pushing forward, grinding insistently. "Please, C, come," Justin managed, and that was it, JC pulsing and swearing and shuddering as his fingers sank bruises into Justin's skin, and Justin had never felt more powerfully satisfied in his entire life as when JC sank down against him, pressing kiss after kiss into the back of his neck.
"Damn." JC said, after a minute had passed with nothing but the sound of their heavy breathing to fill it. "Damn." He sounded lazily content and weirdly, kind of proud, which really, Justin was okay with. He'd be proud too. As far as first times went, he figured that was probably about as good as it got. He would have wriggled around to look at JC, but his body didn't seem to be responding to simple mental commands. He settled for a sated grunt of agreement.
"You're, uh . . ." JC eased off of Justin's back and carefully pulled out. Justin tried not to wince, 'cause how virgin was that? But dude, he was a little sore. No, wait. A lot sore. But it was a good kind of sore, the kind of sore he wouldn't mind feeling in the morning. He hoped.
"You're okay?" JC finished, only the barest hint of worry in his voice, which meant that he knew Justin was okay, but wanted to hear it from him.
"Mmm. Better than okay."
"Yeah?"
"Oh yeah." Justin firmly told his body to move, and wonder of wonders, it obeyed. He pressed backwards into JC, urging himself into the circle of JC's arm. This was always the best, this warm afterwards part, no matter what they did, where they just lay, all tangled up, just together.
"Hey." JC poked his nose into Justin's neck, nuzzling up by his hair. "Don't go to sleep."
"Who's going to sleep?" Justin retorted. He hadn't even been thinking about it. Yeah, it was all comfortable and drowsy, but they weren't even under the covers, and it wasn't like they could just sleep on these covers now that they were all messy. Justin would definitely want to shower, and then they could change the sheets, and then maybe they could - no, no, it was still the good kind of sore, but it was the kind of sore that was going to have Justin not doing much more than showering and helping change the sheets tonight. And maybe some making out. Gentle making out.
"I'm glad we did that," JC murmured, and Justin snorted.
"Coulda done it awhile ago."
"Well, why didn't you say anything?"
Justin burrowed further back against JC's chest. "I don't know, I thought you thought I wasn't ready or something."
"We could have just talked about it."
"Good to know."
"So why'd you make that dumbass bet?"
Justin butted his head back, hitting JC's forehead, but not too hard. "It wasn't dumbass! I should have won! It was HORSE, man. I kick ass at ball, you know that."
"Oh yeah, I saw just how much ass you kick," JC chuckled, hooking his leg over Justin's thigh, drawing him closer. "You asked Joey for help, didn't you?"
"Lance," Justin corrected, and JC's chuckle rose into a rolling giggle.
"Oh man, no wonder you thought it was such a good idea."
"It was a good idea," Justin said reasonably. "Look where we are. I wanted you to . . . you know . . . and you did."
"Because I took the initiative."
"Whatever. Details." Justin tugged at JC's arm, pulling it tighter around him. "C'mon, man. Power nap. Then oooh, shower. Then bed."
"Just a nap," JC allowed. "And shower, sure. But then you gotta do my CDs."
"What?"
"My CDs, J. You have to realphabetize them. I won Lance's dumbass bet. Anything I say, remember?"
Justin protested - or he would have protested. But JC was really warm, and even without the covers, the bed was kind of soft. He'd protest when they woke up. "Okay, C. Anything you say."