Written for enough to by go: the juc schizophrenic challenge
Release
. . . let's break all the rules . . .
Justin raised his glass of Merlot to his lips, nodding politely at the suit in front of him. Jive executives couldn't seem to leave him alone tonight - he had been surrounded by smiling, congratulatory people the second he had stepped off the junket carpet, and he almost felt ashamed that he could put names to so few of the faces. All of these people - well, most of them, he allowed - had had a hand in making this album possible. His momma hated the perfunctory small talk as much as he did, but there she was, right over by the champagne bar, so animated that if you didn't know her really well, you'd think she was enjoying herself. She wasn't acting bored, she was being respectful. And she'd whap him upside the head if she could hear his ungenerous thoughts.
He caught sight of JC across the room, sitting at a table with Tara and Trace. He envied them for a minute - he would have loved to go hang out, just chill with a beer and laugh about finally doing the business part of the business all by himself, just like he'd wanted. He'd complain about the hand-shaking and the schmoozing, and Trace would snort, and JC would laugh his crinkle-eyed laugh and tell Justin that if you wanted glory, you dealt with grunge - or some dumbass, totally misremembered saying like that. JC was always pulling those out of his ass.
Justin sighed. Now he was thinking about JC's ass.
As if he could read Justin's mind, JC looked up, and their eyes locked. Grown adept over the years at the language of silent communication, their mute exchange was brief, and JC's eyes danced with amusement when Justin raised an eyebrow at him. Justin watched as JC turned to Tara with an apologetic smile and nodded to Trace, who nodded back. JC rose from his seat and walked - strolled, really, with an easy and unhurried pace towards the hallway where the restrooms were located.
Well. If there was ever a cue for action -
"If you'll excuse me," Justin tactfully interrupted the man in front of him, who was still going on about the R&B versus the pop demographic. "I'll just be a few minutes." He clasped a hand reassuringly to the man's shoulder and headed across the floor towards the same hallway.
It wasn't even a question that JC would be in the men's bathroom waiting for him, but upbringing guided Justin's hand as he automatically lifted his fist to knock. Just as his knuckles were about to connect with the solid wood, the door swung open, and Justin found himself rapping lightly on JC's chest.
"Who's there?" JC teased softly as he caught Justin's hand in his own and took a step backwards, pulling Justin with him. The door swung shut behind Justin's willing feet, and JC stopped moving suddenly, causing Justin to stumble directly into him. JC laughed, the bright sound reverberating off the marbled wall, and he wrapped his arms around Justin's midsection, steadying him.
"I told the A&R guy I'd be right back," Justin said regretfully, but JC smiled.
"Then we'll have to have you right back, won't we?" And he tightened his arms around Justin, his hands coming up to rest beneath Justin's shoulder-blades. He leaned in, his breath warm on the underside of Justin's jaw. "Think we can make it quick?"
He punctuated his question with a gentle forward press of his hips, and Justin gasped quietly. He looked at JC, his eyes bright and hot. "Come here," he ordered.
"I'm already right here," JC laughed, and he was right, he was pressed so close to Justin that the small vibrations of his laughter thrummed against Justin's chest. But it wasn't close enough, and Justin remedied that by dropping his head so that his lips fell onto JC's, warm and soft.
"Mmmm," JC murmured, sounding utterly content, and he tasted like crisp Scotch and ginger ale. Justin chased the taste with his tongue, his hand cupping the sharp curve of JC's cheek, tilting his head for a better angle, a deeper angle. JC's palms stroked down over his back, smoothing over his spine and down to lightly grasp his hips.
"The A&R guy," Justin reminded JC, somewhat breathlessly, and then his head was falling back, all on its own, because JC was licking down his neck, JC was nuzzling his chest through his shirt, and JC's hands were skimming down the backs of Justin's thighs as JC sank to his knees in front of Justin.
"Five minutes," he said, looking up earnestly as his hands worked quickly at Justin's belt buckle, and before Justin could crack any joke about JC's self-confidence, JC had wrapped his hand firmly around the base of Justin's cock and was leaning forward to lick at the tip.
Five minutes might even be too long, Justin realized with a shock, as JC quickly moved on from tentative tastes to dragging the rough flat of his tongue along the underside of Justin's cock. Justin's hips had started to move already, thrusting gently against the wet pressure of JC's tongue. "Please, C," he whispered.
JC just rubbed his thumb lovingly over Justin's hipbone and opened his mouth, tight and hot and sucking firmly on the head of Justin's cock. Justin's eyes wanted to close, but he forced himself to keep them open, because the sight of JC's mouth swallowing him down? Never failed to be the hottest thing he'd ever seen, no matter how many times he saw it. He whimpered quietly, but JC's mouth stayed wrapped around the head of his cock, and with each second, Justin felt a little closer to exploding. He tried to reach down, to stroke the shaft that JC was neglecting, but JC reached up and circled his wrist with long fingers, pinning his hand to the wall.
"Oh, please, come on," Justin pleaded, his breath hitching in his chest. "We don't have much time, please, C?"
JC pulled off and looked up at Justin, his eyes twinkling. "Be quiet, baby. You don't want anyone to hear, right?" Justin nodded frantically; it would be disastrous if someone overheard them, but he was fast approaching the point of not caring. JC grinned and licked his lips, and Justin felt all the blood in his body rush straight to his cock. JC was so gorgeous, all the time, but he was never prettier than when he had Justin at his mercy, and Justin wanted him so much.
"You're so hot," he managed, and JC lowered his head, slipped his tongue sideways across Justin's cock and pulled Justin's hips towards him. He struck up a steady rhythm, pushing Justin back, dragging him forward, forcing him to fuck JC's mouth, and hell, it wasn't really like Justin was going to say no. He was so fucking hard, he could feel every slipperyhot inch of JC's mouth, and in his head, he could see them later that night, after the party, when they would go back to Justin's house and tumble into bed. Justin could see JC holding him down, fucking him gently, then harder and harder, their bodies white blurs against the soft blue sheets, and when JC swallowed hard and took Justin all the way into his throat, he couldn't stand it, he couldn't keep it together, he bit hard on his lower lip and grabbed JC's shoulder and came and came and came.
His vision swam with little stars, white-hot and furious, and he was vaguely aware of JC clambering to his feet. "See?" he heard JC say, sounding extremely satisfied with himself. "Five minutes or less." Justin would have responded, but the shaking in his knees hadn't yet subsided, and his heart was still pounding like a jackhammer in his chest. He felt JC's hands at his fly, doing him up, and then a concerned hand on his cheek. "Hey, J, you ok? I didn't break you, did I?"
"Not even close," Justin said, still gasping a bit, and there was that heartbreaking smile again, the smile that JC reserved for those he loved best, and Justin just had to taste that smile, because he knew it was all for him.
"Mmm," JC murmured against Justin's mouth, his tongue dancing in to tangle with Justin's. "You're so sweet."
"It's the Merlot," Justin answered, and JC laughed, stroking a hand down Justin's back. "What?" Justin protested with a smile. "I paid good money to get that wine. If it was up to the reps, we'd have beer, Bacardi and Asta Spumante."
"Speaking of the reps," JC said, stepping away from Justin and smoothing his hands down his slightly rumpled shirt, "you'd better get back out there before Tara finds that Spumante. She loves that crap. Like. A little too much."
"Yeah, yeah." Justin sighed, eying the bulge in JC's jeans. "You sure we can't take another five minutes? Take care of you?"
"Baby, tonight's about you." The pride in JC's voice made Justin flush and duck his head, but JC caught his chin in his hand. "This is such an accomplishment, J. We're so proud of you. I'm so proud. You're amazing, you know that?"
"You are," Justin whispered, not taking his eyes from JC's. JC beamed at him, and Justin thought he could die happy right there in the Smashbox bathroom.
"Well, maybe we're just amazing together. You ok with that?"
"Yeah," Justin said. "Yeah, I am." He leaned in for another kiss, which JC gave to him readily, and when he pulled back, he took JC's hand in his. "So let's go back out there, huh? A couple more hours, and we'll go home?"
"We can celebrate all night," JC agreed, and Justin's pulse began to pick up again, the images from before flooding his mind. "All night, all day - all week. All year." Justin squeezed JC's hand and tugged him out the door.