solafiamma | new story

In the midst of all my sesa despair, I completely forgot to post the story I have written. This is my Happy Hanukkah story for nonchop .

Shove
by Sola Fiamma

With many thanks to budge for the beta and escapist_xbq for the cheering.

Disclaimer: All fiction, all the time.

“But, Chris, he didn’t even notice. And I was only wearing a towel! A towel, Chris!” Justin poked Chris in the stomach, hard, to get his attention but Chris swatted his hand away without even looking up from his magazine. It had to be either porn or a motorcycle magazine, because Chris’ eyes had that fixed, glazed look to them that usually meant boobs or Harleys. Justin scooched across the couch to get a better view. Hmmm. Naked chick on a ‘95 Wide Glide. Probably porn, then, but maybe not. He studied the picture over Chris’ shoulder for a couple of minutes and poked him again.

“Mmph,” Chris mumbled.

“Fuck. Put that down and listen to me!” He yanked the magazine out of Chris’ hands and sat on it. “Look, this is important, Chris. Can you listen to me for, like, two minutes, please?”

“I am listening, you little shit. I just don’t care. You’re being an ass. Of course he ignored you, you’re totally not his type. I’ve told you that two bazillion times, I don’t know why you’re having such a hard time wrapping your stupid pea brain around the fact that not everyone finds your naked scrawny ass irresistible. You’ve been spending way too much time reading your fan mail. Now give me my magazine before I bite you.”

“Oh, just. Just shut up. I am too his type. He doesn’t even have a type. He totally doesn’t. And if he did, I’d be it. What?” He shoved Chris. “Don’t laugh at me, man. It’s not funny. Why wouldn’t I be his type?”

Chris shrugged distractedly, eyes on the shiny corner of magazine sticking out from under Justin’s thigh. “Um, well, let’s see. You’re grossly immature, you chew with your mouth open and your cologne sucks ass. You’re really totally unappealing.” His fingers edged a couple of inches closer to Justin’s thigh.

“Forget it,” Justin snapped, slapping his hand over the corner of the magazine. “Come on, Chris. You know how important this is to me. Why won’t you help me? You could help me, if you weren’t such a dickhead. You could tell him for me. Make him pay attention.”

Chris snickered. “Oh, yeah. That’ll work. ‘Yo, JC, listen up. Justin’s hot for your ass, could you please pay a bit more attention when he minces around the bus wearing a towel and wagging his butt in your face?’ Pathetic, dude.”

“But, Chris, couldn’t you. Couldn’t you just talk to him? He respects you. Kind of. You could, like, tell him you think I might be interested in him. Or, hey, you could just say, 'dude, Justin's looking pretty freakin' hot these days, doncha think?' and let him just take it from there.”

"You're such a girl sometimes, you know that?"

"Oh, fuck you. Fuckhead. Would it kill you to help a friend out, for gods sake?"

“We’ll never know, will we? Because, a) you can’t begin to imagine how very much I don’t even want to think about your nasty little sex life, let alone pimp for you, and b) JC is way out of your league. He does stuff little boys like you haven’t even dreamt of.”

“I’m not asking you to pimp for me. That’s just gross, yo.”

“Tell me about it. Now are you going to give me my magazine or am I going to have to put your nuts in a chokehold?”

“You and whose army, asshole,” Justin sneered, but he drew his hands surreptitiously over his crotch. just in case. It never hurt to take precautions. “What kind of stuff?”

“Huh?”

“What kind of stuff does he do? That I haven’t dreamt of? ‘Cause I have some pretty insane dreams, dude.”

“Yay for you. Okay, that's it. I warned you.” With an ear-splitting howl, Chris launched himself headfirst into Justin’s belly, pile driving him off the magazine and halfway off the couch.

"You bastard! That fucking hurt!" Justin grabbed a handful of Chris' t-shirt and hoisted himself back up in time to bite Chris' wrist before he could grab the magazine. They wrestled fiercely for a few minutes, during which time Chris managed to pinch Justin's left nipple three times, give him a wedgie and elbow him in the groin before toppling backward onto the floor, half the magazine clutched to his chest. Justin leaned over and waved the other half triumphantly in his face.

“Ha! Ha! You are a stubby little insect and I crush you! Ha! Oh, but, hey, Chris?” He reached down and tugged on Chris’ t-shirt.

“Yeah, what?” Chris was still thumbing through the pages, checking out which bits he was missing.

“How do you know what JC does? You know. The weird sex stuff, like you said. How do you know? Did he tell you?”

“Nope. Amazingly enough, Timberlake, I’m no more interested in his sex life than I am in yours.”

“Then how do you know?” Justin was having a hard time keeping the whine out of his voice, but jesus fuck, when you just wanted a simple answer to a straightforward question Chris had to be the most annoying person on the planet.

“Lance told me.”

“Lance?”

“Uh huh. Yep.”

“Lance told you? But. But how would Lance know?”

Chris shook his head and turned the page. Half the page. “Psychic maybe?”

“Chris! Come on!

“I guess you’re just going to have to ask Lance, aren’t you?”

“No, but you can tell me, right? ‘Cause I’m kind of not talking to Lance right now. I’m still pissed off at him for telling that chick in Pittsburgh that I have premature ejaculation issues. Oh, shut up,” he snapped as Chris started cackling. “I don’t know why he had to tell her something shitty like that. It’s not like he was going to sleep with her.”

“Hardly the point, dude. Whatever. Stop pouting. I’m not telling you. God knows what he’d say to the next person I try to hit on.”

*******************

It was all very well for Chris to tell him to stop pouting, which Justin totally wasn’t doing in the first place, because pouting was pretty juvenile and he didn’t pull that kind of shit anymore. He wasn’t talking to Lance, but he had good reasons, excellent reasons, and he just wasn’t ready to talk to Lance yet. If anyone should start talking to anyone, it should be Lance because he was a stupid fucker and he owed Justin an apology. And Lance wasn’t talking either, or even trying to get Justin to talk. No way was Justin going to give him the satisfaction of being the one to break the silence. He hated to be the first one to cave.

Well, not with everyone. Not with Chris. Or Joey. Or JC. Just with Lance, really. Because he always caved first with Lance. Lance had a completely unnatural ability to not really give a crap if people stopped talking to him, which drove Justin totally batshit and made him want to yell, so he finally would, and then Lance would yell back and then they’d work it out. But Justin was tired of being the first one to break. And he’d read this book that talked about cleansing yourself of emotionally unhealthy habits and how important it was not to let yourself get sucked into old patterns, and that’s what he was doing now. He was breaking an emotionally unhealthy habit, which was totally what a person needed to do if he didn’t want to end up with ulcers or cancer or early hair loss, and damned if he was going to give in now. This was the longest he’d ever been able to hold out, a whole four days, and he couldn’t break now, because then all the cleansing would have been for nothing. He couldn’t explain that to Chris, though, because Chris would just laugh at him and mock him relentlessly for the rest of the tour, maybe for the rest of his life.

It kind of sucked, though, and it meant Justin had to find some way of getting information out of Lance without actually talking to him, because Lance, apparently, knew stuff that Justin needed to know. Somehow, and Justin preferred not to think about exactly how, Lance knew all about JC’s kinky sex habits which, in the first place, if Lance was any kind of a friend, he would have already told Justin about because that’s what friends did, but in the second place, Justin totally needed that information if he wasn’t going to make a fool of himself when JC finally decided to notice that Justin was old enough and hot enough to, well. To do it with.

JC was going to notice. Justin didn’t doubt that for a minute. The only reason he hadn’t so far was that his brain hadn’t caught up to the fact that Justin wasn’t a kid anymore, but it was only a matter of time. JC liked hot guys, Justin was hot, so yeah. The noticing would happen. In the meantime, though, there was this whole new worry, because apparently JC had these weird kinks that nobody’d ever bothered to mention before, no doubt because they were trying to protect his delicate sensibilities or something. They were always doing crap like that.

Justin figured he could probably learn to be cool with just about any kink JC threw his way, but he kind of wanted to be prepared. What if JC was into, like, getting spanked? Or worse, what if he was into spanking his lovers? Or having people pee on him? Or, ew. Peeing on people? It’s not like Justin wouldn’t be able to handle it or anything, because he would, of course he would. It was JC, and he’d wanted to get with JC since, like, forever, so he’d do whatever it took. But, man, a little forewarning would really help. The last thing he wanted was to be right in the middle of stuff and then have JC get all snitty when he asked Justin to pee on him and Justin had already gone to the bathroom just before because, like, he didn’t know. And it’s not like he could just go around not peeing to make sure he was always ready. That just wouldn’t be healthy. Because who knew when JC would finally start to notice him? And it might not even be one of the kinks Chris was talking about. Justin wanted to get on his knees and pray to god that it wasn’t one of the kinks, because, oh, man, holy fuck, how gross, but he was pretty sure this wasn’t the kind of thing his momma was talking about when she told him he could always take his problems to god.

Joey, though. He could take his problems to Joey because Joey was way cool about shit, and he’d listen without laughing. Or, well, he’d laugh, but he’d also want to help, because he hated to see anyone unhappy, especially Justin and Lance. The best thing about talking to Joey was that Lance told him everything, so he’d totally be able to help.

*******************

“Hey, Joe.”

It was two or three in the morning, and they were somewhere between Boston and Philadelphia. Or maybe tonight had been Philadelphia, Justin couldn’t remember. He was tired, weary beyond stupid, and had been ready to go to bed an hour ago. He needed to talk to Joey, but ever since they’d left the concert Joey had been on the phone, checking in with his family probably, or maybe with Kelly. The other guys were in bed already, so Justin had been entertaining himself by re-arranging the cutlery drawer in the bus’s tiny kitchen while he waited for Joey to say good night already and hang up the damn phone.

“Can’t sleep?” Joey asked when Justin walked over and flopped down beside him on the couch,

“No. Well, actually, I haven’t tried yet. I was kinda waiting for you to finish talking to, uh. Whoever. There was something I wanted to ask you.”

Joey smiled at him and patted the couch. “C’mon, sit. Ask away.”

“You know I like C, right?”

“Um. No. No, I didn’t know that,” Joey shook his head, his eyes big and innocent, like they always were when he was full of shit.

“Chris didn’t tell you?”

“Well, yeah. Okay. He did. But don’t be mad at him. He’d had a couple of Mountain Dews, and he just couldn’t shut up. I found out all kinds of stuff I really didn’t want to know.” Joey’s face took on a tight, pinched look, which meant Chris had probably told him about the time he’d scalded his dick when he’d been cooking pasta naked, and how it had blistered, and how disgusting it was when a couple of the blisters burst and stuck to his underwear. Chris loved telling that story when he was riding a sugar high.

“No, I’m cool. As long as he didn’t tell JC, anyway.” He raised his eyebrows at Joey, but Joey shook his head. “’Kay then. So, the thing is. I do. Like JC, I mean. But he’s kinda not noticing me, you know?”

“Well. Yeah. You’re pretty young.”

“No, I’m not.

“Maybe.”

"I was young, but I’m not young anymore. Not that young. You guys just forget. I’m eighteen. That’s old enough. Hey, gimme some of that," he said, reaching for Joey's beer. "And, come on, Joey. Don’t tell me you weren’t fucking anything that moved when you were eighteen.”

“Maybe, but--“

“Ain’t no maybe, dude. You totally were. So don’t go giving me that double standard shit. If you could fuck half the female population of Germany, I guess I can mess around with JC.”

“Guys, too,” Joey said, with a smug little smile on his face.

“Huh?”

“I fooled around with a few guys over there, too. Not just the chicks. My bisexual phase, you know.”

“Yeah, well, whatever. That's a whole 'nother discussion that I'm pretty sure I never want to have. But, look. Lance talks to you, right?”

“About?”

“About, I dunno. Everything, right? About JC? About what JC likes. You know. In bed.” Justin finished the last third of the beer in one long swallow, and handed the can back to Joey.

“Shouldn't you be having this conversation with Lance?”

“No. Did he and JC ever, uh, do it? Did he tell you? Oh, hey. They’re not still doing it, are they?”

“No, no. Not since Germany. And it wasn’t a big deal. Just a. You know. A fuck buddy kind of thing. But that’s all I’m gonna say. You want details, ask Lance. Or JC. And go get me another beer, you bastard.”

“But, Joeyyy! C’mon, don’t you get it? I need to know stuff!"

Joey stared pointedly at the empty beer can and started humming quietly to himself.

"Oh, fine. I'll get your stupid ass beer." He stomped to the fridge to pull out a six pack, and then rooted around in the back of the cupboard until he found the box of All Bran where Chris hid his secret stash of Twinkies and hauled them out, too. Served Chris right.

"See, Joey, this is important. I need to know what kind of weird shit JC likes so I don’t make a fool of myself when we finally. Well. You know. I really don't think that's too much to ask.”

“Uh huh. Well, I think if you have to ask, and you can't ask JC, you're probably not ready for whatever it is you're worried about."

“Fuck that. It's not like I'm worried worried. It's just that I want to be prepared in case the stuff he likes is. I dunno. Gross or something. So I can, like, prepare. Dude, can’t you at least. Can you just tell me, does he likes to get peed on? He doesn't, right? Does he?”

“You have a twisted mind, kid. Look. Maybe you just need to get a bit more experience under your belt, so to speak, before you start fooling around with JC."

Crap. Joey was almost as annoying as Chris, and you really had to work some to be that annoying. "What the fuck, Joe. I have tons of experience. Well, some, anyway. Enough. What are you saying? That I should go hang out on street corners and pick up random guys so I can, like, broaden my horizons?"

"Don't be an idiot. You want more experience, why don't you just. I dunno. Lance would probably sleep with you. Maybe."

"Well, since I'm not even speaking to him, that might be a problem."

"Are you even old enough to have sex?"

"Besides, I already slept with Lance. Back in Germany. He didn't teach me anything I didn't know. Except. You know. How to suck dick. He gives awesome head, by the way."

Joey nodded. "Mmm. I remember. What? I told you. My bisexual phase."

"Huh. Okay, then." Justin squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed them vigorously to erase the rather frighteningly hot image of Lance going down on Joey from his brain. "Anyway. He taught me that. And maybe a few other things. But none of the freaky shit that Chris says JC's into."

"Maybe you should ask Chris to sleep with you, show you what he's talking about."

They both laughed and high-fived each other. "Oh, dude, can't you just see his face if I tried to put the moves on him? He'd have a stroke! Fuck, it's almost worth it."

When they'd stopped giggling, Joey slapped Justin's knee and hauled himself to his feet. "Well, kiddo, I'm gonna go catch some sleep. If you want my advice, which you clearly don't, I say you should talk to JC or forget the whole thing."

Justin watched him make his way toward the back of the bus and sighed. He was running out of options. Looked like he was going to have to bite the bullet and talk to Lance.

*******************

"Hey," Justin whispered, pulling back the curtain that hid Lance's bunk. "Hey, Lance, you awake?"

There was no answer, just a slight hitch in the muffled breathing sounds coming from the lump beneath the mound of bedding. Justin lifted the corner of the quilt and found Lance's foot, which twitched as the cooler air hit it, then stilled again. Resisting the urge to tickle, Justin tried the other end and found Lance's head, face mashed into the pillow and hair sticking up every which way.

"Hey.You awake?" he whispered again, directly into Lance's ear this time. Lance smelled nice, warm and sleepy and a little bit ripe, like maybe he'd been playing with himself before he'd fallen asleep.

"Uh. Hmm? Justin?" Lance rolled over and opened one eye. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, hey, nothing's wrong. S'okay. I just need to talk to you."

The eye snapped closed again, and Lance muttered something that sounded a lot like "Fuck off," but which Justin decided probably meant, "Why don't you climb in, it's cold out there." So he did.

Lance moved over to make room, wrapped a heavy arm around Justin's waist and mumbled, "Fine, whatever, but go to sleep, 'kay?" and he probably would have drifted right off again if Justin hadn't bitten his ear.

"Ow! Stop that! I thought you got this out of your system in Germany. If you want to screw, you're going to have to wait till morning. I'm too tired right now."

"No, no, that's not it. I just wanted to, you know, talk. It'll only take a second," he added quickly as Lance started to pull away. "C'mon, just a few minutes and then I'll let you sleep. I promise."

"So. I take it you're speaking to me again." Lance didn't sound particularly overjoyed about it, but on the other hand, he didn't sound all smug and gloaty, either, and if he was looking all smug and gloaty, it was too dark to see, so, yeah. Definite upside to swallowing your pride in the dead of night. He'd have to remember this the next time they had an argument.

"I need a favour," Justin said, ignoring the whole not talking subject, because why mess with a good thing. "It's about JC. Because. Well. You know I like him, right?"

"Who doesn't? You're about as subtle as a backed up sewer."

"Hey, I'm subtle! I'm totally subtle. You wouldn't know if Chris hadn't told you."

"Chris didn't tell me. I figured it out ages ago. When you accidentally fell into his lap three times at Joey's birthday. Or maybe it was when you dropped your pants last month and asked him to help you get that sliver out of your thigh. Which, ouch, how long did it take you to work up the nerve to jam it into your leg in the first place? And also, what the heck were you thinking? Poor C, I thought he was going to faint when he saw that thing sticking out of you."

"Yeah, I know. I'd forgotten about his needle thing. I feel really bad about it. Plus, I was kind of worried that he'd never be able to look at my leg again, and that could be awkward when we're actually, you know, doing it. Unless we left the lights off, which, okay, that's fine sometimes, but sometimes you just want to see, you know? And, dude, you wouldn't believe how much it hurt when I shoved that piece of wood into my leg! Fuck. It really sucked. And I bled all over my favourite jeans, too. There's still a stain."

"God, you're such a dork," Lance said, but Justin was pretty sure there was a smile in his voice. "So, you like JC. Big deal. What do you want me to do about it?"

"Well. Chris says. Well, he says that JC's into, um. Unusual stuff. Weird, kinky stuff. You know. So I was wondering. I thought maybe you could tell me what he likes. In bed."

"Um. Pillows? Striped sheets? His blankie?"

"You know that's not what I mean. Fuckhead." Justin rubbed Lance's ass soothingly, in case he took offence, but Lance didn't seem offended. He just mumbled happily and pulled him closer.

"What makes you think I know what JC likes in bed?"

"Shh! Not so loud! You don't have to tell the whole bus. And, dude, I know you know. Chris told me."

"Did he? Well, bless his heart. Remind me to hide his stash of Twinkies, will you?"

"Too late. I already ate them. But it's true right? That you slept with him in Germany?" Justin slipped his hand under the waistband of Lance's boxers. "You don't mind, do you? Just for a few minutes? My fingers are cold."

"My ass is at your disposal. Yes, I slept with him. And this would be your business because . . .?"

"God, your butt's better than a hot water bottle, dude. I should sleep in here more often. When my hands are warm, maybe you could sit on my feet for a while." Ignoring Lance's snort, Justin continued. "It's my business because I need to know. Because when he stops ignoring me and we go to bed, I want to be ready, you know? I want to be able to give him what he likes. And I don't want any gross surprises."

"He's not ignoring you."

"What? What do you mean, he's not ignoring me? He's totally ignoring me. My dick could fall off and roll across the room, and he'd just step over it and say, 'hey, that reminds me, who ate all the pepperoni sticks?'"

"You spend way too much time with Chris, you know that? And are you really comparing your dick to a pepperoni stick? I've had that thing in my mouth, and it ain't no pepperoni stick."

"God, you're annoying. You and Chris and Joey, you're all annoying as fuck. And don't talk about my dick in your mouth, because you're making me horny, and you still haven't helped me."

"Yeah, well, if you'd stop rubbing your leg against my dick, maybe I'd stop trying to make you horny. Why's Joey annoying? What'd he do?"

"He told me I was too young and too inexperienced, and that if I wanted to get with JC, maybe I should experiment with Chris first."

The air between them suddenly felt cold, and Lance's hand, which had been tracing small circles on Justin's back, slowed and went still. For a second he thought maybe Lance had fallen asleep, but that wasn't it, because there was nothing comfortable or cosy about this stillness, nothing that made you want to snuggle in closer and drift off into sleep. This was kind of like lying next to a steel girder. Something had pissed him off, but Justin had no idea what. Maybe he was mad at Joey because if Joey thought Justin was too young now, what the fuck had he been doing messing around with Lance in Germany when Lance was even younger. And, whoa, really. Good point. Talk about double standards. He was going to kick Joey's ass in the morning.

"Uh. Lance?" he said, petting Lance's head and trying to pull him into a hug, not a particularly easy thing to, what with Lance squirming and shoving, and finally mumbling something which Justin couldn't quite catch, probably because Lance's face was now squashed into Justin's shoulder.

"What? Sorry, didn't hear you."

"I said, stay the fuck away from Chris."

"Oh."

Oh.

Oh.

"Dude, no worries. It was a joke, yo. Joey was just kidding around. I'd never. With Chris? I mean, ew. He's like my, my, uh, my very good friend that I'd never get naked with. You know. Like you and Joey. Except that you did actually get naked with Joey. Or maybe not, but as good as. And with me too. And JC." It occurred to Justin for the first time that Lance really was a bit of a slut, but it also occurred to him that this might not be the best time to bring that up. "Chris is all yours. And welcome to him. You do know his idea of romance is not to fart while he's kissing you, right?"

A warm little huff of air skated over his collarbone as Lance snickered. "Yeah. I know. That's cool. As long as he doesn't fart while he's kissing me, we'll be just fine."

"Yeah, well, okay. What about me and JC? You still haven't told me anything."

"You know, it really isn't cool to kiss and tell. You do know that, don't you?" Lance sighed. "No, of course you don't. Chris trained that out of you years ago. Look. Don't worry. I'll fix things with you and JC. I promise."

"Yeah, but--"

"No buts." Lance yawned into Justin's shoulder. "I'll make it happen. Just be patient. Now shut up and let me sleep."

"Hey! Hey, you're not really going to sleep, are you?" But apparently, Lance was doing exactly that. Within seconds Justin could hear his breathing slow and deepen, and feel his body relax against his own. It was really pretty rude, he thought, to talk about sucking a person's dick, tell them what a slut you were, and then just toddle off to bed instead of putting your money where your mouth was. He thought about crawling out of Lance's bunk and heading back to his own, but Lance's butt was really toasty warm now, and the humming of the bus as it rolled down the freeway was teasing his eyelids closed and making his bones grow heavy. And who knew? Maybe Lance wouldn't be so stingy with his sluttishness when he woke up in the morning.

*******************

For the next couple of weeks, Justin waited patiently for Lance to make good on his promise. Or, well, maybe not patiently, exactly, but he waited (and waited) and tried not to muscle Lance off to the back of the bus more than once a day to grill him about the status of his plan. Lance wouldn't give anything away, though; he'd just smile a secret smile and say that everything was under control, and that if Justin didn't let go of his arm right this fucking minute he was going to tell JC that Justin was terrified of dicks and thought the best kind of relationship was where two very good friends just held hands, gazed adoringly into one another's eyes and exchanged delicate kisses (close-mouthed, of course, because germs were so gross). The awful thing was, Justin had freaked out so many times about the unholy mess Chris and Joey left in the bathroom, JC would probably believe it.

JC was still ignoring him. He was, no matter what Lance said, and no matter how many times Justin peeled off his shirt in front of him, or smiled winningly at him, or looked up from beneath seductively lowered lashes when JC stumbled out to breakfast in the mornings. To be fair to his own charms, JC was usually pretty much catatonic any time before noon, so perhaps breakfast wasn't the optimum time of day for attempted seduction. But Chris was also fairly useless when he first dragged himself out of bed, so from the point of view of averting vicious mocking and a full day's worth of horrible jokes and nudge-nudge-wink-wink-ish behaviour, breakfast was really the only safe option.

It sucked a whole lot, though. How could JC be so oblivious to every move Justin made, so completely unaware, when every time Justin looked at JC it was like getting whacked in the head with a chunk of rebar? It just didn't seem possible. And wasn't this kind of thing supposed to get easier over time? Because that sure as fuck wasn't happening. JC just seemed to get hotter and hotter, not to mention steadily more unattainable, as the days went by. Justin's nerves couldn't handle much more of this. If Lance didn't come up with the goods pretty soon, someone else would snap JC up before Justin had even had a chance to kiss him. He'd never been so grateful for the constant grind of touring that made it so difficult to do much more than introduce yourself to other hot people, maybe dance a couple of dances, and then move on to the next venue. That and the fact that JC liked sleeping so much.

They were in Chicago when Lance made his move. It was one of those rare free nights, and after dinner Joey, Chris and JC headed out to hit the clubs. Justin would have gone too, but Lance had grabbed his arm and whispered "stay" in his ear, so he had. When the others left the hotel restaurant, though, Lance had told him to go back to his room and wait, which he'd also done, but he'd been waiting for hours, or at least half an hour, anyway, and shit, if Lance had made him hang back just to sit around and play Mastermind or Scrabble with him, Justin was going to steal all his underwear and run it through the blender.

He was just thinking that Chris would probably help him too, because that kind of thing was right up Chris' alley, when there was a knock on the door.

"Come on," Lance whispered dramatically when Justin opened the door. He beckoned Justin over impatiently and yanked him out into the corridor. "Hurry up, man."

"Where are we going?" Justin whispered back, feeling like a complete tool. There was nobody in sight, and he had no idea why they were whispering, but he didn't want to rock the boat. No point in triggering a snit fit if things were finally starting to shake.

Lance waved a key card under Justin's nose. "My room," he said with a wink. "I'm sharing with JC this time."

"Oh. Cool." It wasn't cool, not really, because why the fuck should Justin care. Unless Lance was trying to make him jealous or something. Which would be really kind of mean, and Lance was mean sometimes, but he was never really mean. Unless maybe it was a shock therapy kind of thing. Maybe he thought that if Justin got jealous, he'd insist on sharing JC's room the next time they stayed in a hotel, and then the problem would be solved. Except that what Lance didn't know was that Justin would do anything within his power to avoid sharing a room with JC these days, because, whoa, watching JC do stretching exercises in just his underwear every night before bed and not having the guts to jump on him was just too depressing to bear. Oh, but, hey. Maybe Lance was taking him to their room to show him JC's bag of sex toys, so that Justin could get comfortable with whatever JC would be expecting.

Before he could decide whether this would be a good or a bad thing, Lance was keying open the door and pulling him into the dimly lit room.

"Come on, move your ass," Lance said. "Shut the door, get over here and strip."

"What?” Justin was shocked. "Dude, we can't do it in here! Not when you're sharing with JC! What if he comes back early? I don't want him to get the wrong idea, and--"

"And I don't want to get into your pants, amazing as that may seem. Been there, sucked that, now shut up and get naked. We don't have much time."

Justin opened his mouth to protest again, but Lance reached out and pinched his lips shut. "God, do I have to thump you? Just do what you're told for once. Sheesh."

It seemed like a really, really stupid thing to do, and it was probably one of Lance's horrible practical jokes, one that would make him the laughingstock of the group well into the next millennium, but if it wasn't, if Lance really did have a plan, then pissing Lance off was the last thing Justin wanted to do. He got naked.

"Um. I'm ready."

"Good, good," Lance muttered from the depths of the closet. Getting the bag of tricks, Justin guessed, and sat down on the edge of the bed to wait.

When Lance emerged, he wasn't holding a bag, though, just a few scarves. They were kind of filmy looking and pretty, but, oh, fuck, he sure hoped JC wasn't into some kind of dance of the seven veils shit, because he really didn't think he could keep a straight face through something like that.

"So, uh. Are they," Justin pointed at the scarves trailing from Lance's hands like wilted bouquet, "are they for. What am I supposed to--?"

"Shut up and get on the bed," Lance told him. "Come on, move it!"

"Alright already! Keep your shirt on! I'm already on the bed. What the fuck, dude."

"I mean, lie down, you moron. Just. Lie down on your back, and, yeah. That's it." Justin knew he was going to regret this, but Lance could be pretty tough when he wanted to be, which apparently was right now, and it was really hard to say no to him. Boy. Chris wouldn't know what hit him. Justin snickered to himself as Lance started tying his wrists to the headboard.

"Oh, um, hey. Is this really necessary?" Justin asked, wiggling his hands to test the strength of the knots.

"Yep." Lance scooted down to the foot of the bed and yanked JC's legs apart. "We won't tie these quite so tight. He's gonna want to get your knees up at some point."

"Oh, fuck." Justin could feel his face burning. God. This was unbelievably embarrassing. Plus, if he had to stay tied up like this until JC got back, his legs were going to cramp up like nobody's business.

"I don't think this is such a good idea, Lance."

"Oh, well. Too late now. You're all trussed up like a little ole pork roast and good to go." To emphasize his point, Lance landed a hard smack on Justin's thigh, the sound of his palm against bare flesh almost as startling as the sting of the smack itself. Lance smiled in delight, maybe at the squeak Justin emitted, but maybe just because he was a freaking son of a bitch sadist. Probably the latter, Justin decided as Lance smacked him again.

"Stop that! Dude, seriously. You can't leave me like this. They're gonna be gone for hours. I won't be able to walk for a week."

"Don't worry. He'll be back," Lance checked his watch, "in about five minutes."

"Does he know?"

"Know what? That you're staked out on his bed like a virgin sacrifice? And almost twice as whiney?"

"Fuck you." Justin yanked on the scarves again, a bit more vigorously, but they didn't give. "Does he know I'm here? That--"

"No. I just told him to get his ass back here by nine and not a minute before because I had something way hot planned for the evening."

"He thinks he's going to have sex with you? Shit. Shit! Untie me right the fuck now! This isn't going to work, he'll think it's all a big joke. He'll laugh at me, dude!"

"Oh, I don't think he's going to laugh, Justin," Lance said, his voice low and sexy. "You don't look funny at all." He ran his knuckles slowly, slowly up the inside of Justin's thigh, then back down again. And, oh, man, even though Justin wanted to gut him where he stood, he also kind of wished Lance would do it again.

"Unnh. Oh, fuck. Don't. Cut it out, Lance. C'mon. You haven't even told me about his kinky stuff yet. I'm not ready for this."

"You know what, J?" Lance sat down on the edge of the bed and patted Justin's stomach in a friendly way. "You're never going to be ready. Your problem is that you have to think everything to death. You have to control every little detail, you've got to have every move nailed down, every reaction ready to roll. That's how you approach the music. That's how you approach the dancing. That's how you approach everything. But that's just not how sex works. Sex is about the unexpected."

"I can do the unexpected! I had sex with you! I was even the one to, you know, start things."

"Uh huh. You think I don't know how many bananas you went through before you asked to suck my dick? And you didn't even like me that much. God, if I left this up to you, you'd be fifty four before you felt ready to take JC on, and by then you'd have a pot belly down to your knees and he wouldn't want you anyway." Ignoring Justin's shriek of outrage at the very idea that he'd ever let his body get that out of shape, Lance continued. "Look at it this way. I'm just taking some of the pressure off, making things a little easier for you."

"You're a stupid assbrain bastard! You don't know anything about it! You better leave the group and join a, a, a circus or something, because when JC unties me, I'm going to beat the ever loving shit out of you!"

Lance pinched his cheek and smirked at him. "Dude, by the time JC unties you, you won't have the strength to beat up a bath towel."

Ooh. Just the thought of that was enough to send a little volley of chills up and down Justin's body. His naked body. His naked, helpless body that JC was going to come in and find and do stuff to. Oh, man.

Lance looked at his watch again, stroked Justin's cheek and stood up. "Okay, I'd better get out of here. Don't worry," he said, reading the panicked look on Justin's face. "I'll keep an eye out from the end of the hall to make sure he shows up."

"No, but, Lance, wait!"

"Oh, hang on. Forgot something." Lance sat back down, spat a copious gob of spit into his hand, wrapped it around Justin's dick and started pumping. "Let's just get you ready. You want to look your best, right?"

"Oh, man. Fuck, oh yeah, that feels fuckin' great." Justin tilted his head back and relaxed into the rhythm. Lance was almost as awesome with handjobs as he was with blowjobs. It was kind of annoying when Lance took his hand away, saying, "Just one more small detail." Justin would have complained, but the pressure was back almost immediately, and then, oh holy hell, Lance was slipping his other hand down between Justin's legs, angling for position, sliding a slicked-up finger into Justin's ass, and, God, it just felt so perfectly, deliciously good, and if Lance would just wiggle the finger a tiny little bit more to the--

But then Lance was gone, he was tossing a couple of condoms onto the bedside table beside what looked like a tube of Astro Glide, crossing the room again, looking back over his shoulder at Justin squirming furiously on the bed. He smiled. "Relax, Justin. Have fun. And don't bother getting up, I'll see myself out."

***************************

The snick of the door closing made Justin feel lonelier than he'd ever felt in his life until now.

Not to mention ridiculous. He wondered if he looked as ridiculous as he felt. Yeah, like that would be possible. Raising his head, he peered curiously down the length of his body. Hmm. Not so terribly ridiculous. Not really. He looked pretty freaking hot, actually. If you liked that sort of thing. That naked-guy-spread-eagled-on-your-bed sort of thing. If he came back to his room and found someone, say JC, for example, tied up to his bed, he probably wouldn't be laughing.

Oh, God, if JC laughed at him he was just going to die. And Lance was going to die, even if JC didn't laugh. There. That was a thought to hang on to.

Thank goodness he'd had had a shower while he was waiting for Lance. At least he wouldn't be all stinky and offensive. Unless. Oh, crap. What if JC liked stinky and offensive? And, shit, had he brushed his teeth earlier? Because nobody liked bad breath. Damn. He couldn't remember whether he'd brushed them or not. He'd been so psyched that Lance was finally doing something, it had driven everything else out of his head. Taking a deep breath, he swooshed it around in his mouth for a few seconds, exhaled, then whipped his head up to sniff the air. It seemed okay. He tried again. Probably okay. Maybe JC would have breath mints, or gum, or something.

A sudden rattling at the door almost made his heart stop. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He yanked at the scarves again, but no, nothing, there was no way to get out of this, no way to hide. He snapped his eyes shut, then snapped them open again, because, really. There was no way JC was going to believe that he'd just stumbled in here to sleep and then been tied up by elves or whatever. That was just stupid.

And then JC was walking into the room, and Justin couldn't look, he couldn't, so even though it was almost as stupid as pretending to be asleep, he turned his head quickly toward the window and feigned an intense interest in the pumpkin coloured curtains that covered them.

"Lance?" JC had stopped by the dresser and was making clattery noises that Justin hoped were just wallet and coin dumping noises, and not, say, looking-for-whip-and-nipple-clamp noises. Damn Lance to a thousand hells for not even having the courtesy to tell him what weird crap JC was into before he left.

"Lance? Are you asleep--" JC made a strange, choked sound, like he'd accidentally swallowed his tongue. "Oh! Holy fuck! Wow. Justin?"

His voice was getting closer, was maybe even at the foot of the bed now, but Justin still couldn't make himself look. He didn't answer, either, partly because he figured JC probably didn't need confirmation on his identity, but mostly because he was afraid that if his brain could actually convince his mouth to open, the only thing that was going to come out of it was hysterical laughter.

A couple of minutes passed in silence, Justin staring at the curtains, JC doing whatever JC was doing, which might have been leaving the room, or fiddling with a hangnail, or writing lyrics for the next album, but it didn't feel like any of those things. If the tingling along every inch of Justin's exposed skin was anything to go by, JC was staring at him, and that should have felt good, because he'd been waiting for it since forever, but somehow he'd never thought it would feel quite this terrifying. Of course, he'd never considered the possibility that when this moment came he'd be bound hand and foot, either, so maybe terrified was normal?

His heart was thumping so loudly in his chest that he wondered if JC could hear it. He wondered if he was going to have a heart attack and die right here on the spot. That would certainly teach Lance a lesson.

If he hadn't been firmly secured to four corners of the bed, he probably would have hit the ceiling when JC's hand stroked the sole of his foot. As it was, he just gasped and shivered and tried to focus all his awareness on each and every nerve ending in his left foot.

"Justin," JC said, and then there was just the sound of JC breathing, or maybe it was his own breathing, he really wasn't sure, and the warm friction of JC's hands sliding up his legs, kneading the muscles, exploring the angles and curves, skimming up along his thighs, almost to his dick and then slowly moving down again. The bed lurched, and Justin realized that JC must be on the bed now, and he couldn't help it, he had to sneak a look. Sure enough, there was JC, kneeling between his legs, touching him, watching him like Justin might evaporate at any second and the fate of the world depended on JC's ability to recall every detail. JC smiled.

"Oh, baby, don't you look nice. That Lance. I'm gonna have to buy him something really special to thank him for this."

Justin was blushing again, he could feel his cheeks flaming, hot enough to set the bed on fire. He should say something, he knew he should, because it was hardly fair to leave this all up to JC, but there were hardly any words left in his brain, and the words that were there kept rolling around uselessly like marbles on a concrete floor, smacking into one another and ricocheting off again. For the life of him, he couldn't connect two of them into any kind of meaningful pattern recognizable as English. Finally, he just settled on, "Hi."

"Oh, yeah. Hi to you too, honey," said JC in a slow, sexy voice. "You want to do the small talk thing, Justin? 'Cause I was thinking maybe you'd rather," JC skimmed one of his hands up Justin's thigh to stroke his dick, "get right down to business."

Justin could only manage a gasp this time, but his hips gave their own answer, arching off the bed, offering him into that hand.

"If you want me to stop, though . . ." The stroking slowed and JC smiled down at him, waiting.

"No, no, no. This is fine. It's. Oh. Oh, fuck. This is great."

JC's smile widened, not in a particularly reassuring way. There was something just a little bit dangerous about that smile, something dark and wild and maybe a little bit scary, too.

With sinuous grace, JC crawled up the bed and knelt over Justin, his denim-clad knees just grazing Justin's hips. Justin could feel the inside seam of the jeans tickling against his naked skin and he tried to wiggle a little closer, first to one side, then to the other, but JC just laughed and moved out of the way. Then JC's hand were on him again, moving over Justin's chest, up his arms to finger the strips of cloth that bound Justin's wrists, back down again, his touch was so sure, and yet so frustratingly light, and, oh jesus, it felt so unbelievably good, sharp and electric, and he'd never felt this alive before, every nerve in his body was humming, every muscle twitching in anticipation. When JC moved his hands away from Justin's body to place them on either side of his head, Justin had to bite down hard and grind his teeth together to stop himself from begging JC to put them back.

JC leaned in, and Justin was sure they were going to kiss, but JC just ran his tongue teasingly over Justin's lips, along his jaw, down the tendon on the left side of his neck. When JC's teeth grazed his neck, Justin groaned, his pelvis shooting upward automatically, but meeting only air. God, this was frustrating. If he could just move a little bit more, if he could just somehow get JC's ass somewhere in the vicinity of his dick, but JC was still watching him, reading him, second-guessing his every move.

"Mmm. Nice." He didn't know what JC thought was nice, whether it was the taste of Justin's skin against his tongue or the involuntary bucking of Justin's hips, but either way, the vibration of JC's voice against his throat skittered straight down to his cock, which, quite frankly, didn't need any further encouragement at this point.

With a final lick to Justin's collarbone, JC sat up, resting his ass on Justin's thighs, a tantalizing half inch away from anything that actually mattered. It would have been incredibly annoying, except JC chose that moment to take off his t-shirt, and, mmm, okay, that was deliciously distracting. Not that Justin hadn't seen JC's naked chest about two billion times before, but this was different. This was just for him, and JC let him know it, keeping his eyes fixed on Justin’s, stripping off the shirt slowly, deliberately, running his fingers lightly over his own skin, and then, finally, finally unfolding his body, spreading over Justin like a blanket.

Oh, yeah. This was what he’d been waiting for, the heat of JC’s skin against his, the weight of JC’s body pinning him to the bed, even the rough pressure of JC’s jeans against his dick. Maybe especially that, Justin thought, and it would all be absolutely perfect if he could only touch, if he could grab JC’s hips and pull him just a little closer. But, now it was hard to care about anything else, because JC’s lips were right there, he was tonguing his way into Justin’s mouth, pushing past his teeth, moving in like he owned the place, and, whoa, it was the dirtiest kiss Justin had ever had, wet and deep and probably hard enough to bruise his gums. If he wasn’t lying down already, he’d be in trouble because JC was sucking the oxygen right out of his lungs, just hoovering it out of him, leaving him dizzy and dazed.

He wondered how long he could last without air, and if JC would keep kissing him if he passed out. He hoped so. This had to feel pretty fantastic even if you were unconscious. He didn't get a chance to find out, though, because JC was pulling back, leaving Justin's mouth with a couple of last lingering licks at the corners of his lips, like little promises.

"No, don't stop," Justin moaned, and felt himself blushing yet again at the edge of need in his voice.

JC kept moving, rolling away from Justin and off the bed in one smooth motion. "Hang on," he said, reaching for the fly of his jeans. "Let me just." He rubbed his hand over the promising bulge in front, winked at Justin and flicked open the top button.

"Oh. Oh, um." Shit. This was it, then. This was where the weird stuff began. "Are you. Are you gonna."

"Am I gonna what, baby?"

"Are you gonna piss on me now?"

"Huh." JC looked startled for a second. "Well, I hadn't been planning on it, no." He shrugged. "But, hey, if that's what you want . . ."

"No! No, really! That's okay, JC." The words were barely intelligible, Justin was in such a hurry to spit them out.

"You sure? 'Cause if that's what you're into, I'm cool with it. Only," he unzipped his fly and eased his dick out, "you might have to give me a couple of minutes. Right now, I'm so hard, I don't think I could take a whiz if the room was on fire."

"Please. No. It's really not necessary. I don't. I'm really, really not into that."

"Hmm."

JC palmed his dick and gave it a couple of absent-minded pumps while he looked at Justin curiously. It would be so nice if they could just drop this whole thing right now, but from the look on JC's face, Justin knew that wasn't going to happen. "It's just. Chris said. You know."

"Chris said I like to pee on people?"

"Well, no. No, not exactly. He said. Well. He said I wasn't experienced enough. For you. He said you liked stuff I haven't dreamt of."

"And you took that to mean I'd want to pee on you? Wow. That's interesting." And it was really pretty endearing, because the thing was, JC did look interested; he actually looked like he'd be prepared to put all the fun on hold, fire up a doobie and chat about this for the rest of the night.

"Yeah. Well. No. Not really. I just thought. Well, it was one of the things that I'd never dreamt of, that's all, so I thought maybe it was the thing, one of the things, Chris was talking about. What are you laughing at?"

"Dude," JC said soothingly, climbing back on the bed to kneel beside Justin, giving Justin's nipples a couple of friendly pinches, apparently intended to calm him down. Or distract him, maybe, in which case, yeah, not a bad strategy. "Chris is like the most vanilla guy on the planet. He's so vanilla, you could stuff an Oreo with him. For all I know he might have been referring to the fact that I like to do it with the lights on."

"So, you're not into kinky shit, then? Like spanking and peeing and stuff?"

JC walked his fingers step by step up Justin's leg. "Honey, I'm into anything that's on offer." Lowering his head, he started licking along the path his fingers had taken, stopping and looking at Justin somewhere about mid-thigh. "How 'bout you, J? What are you into? Tell me what you want."

What Justin wanted was to reach down and push JC's face back where it could do the most good, but Lance had apparently been quite the boy scout, because these knots weren't budging.

"Um. Untie me?"

JC ran his hands up Justin's arms and tugged gently at the scarves. "Oh, I don't think so," he said, leaning in to nip at Justin's ear. "I really don't think that's what you want. But since you asked so nicely," shimmying down Justin's body to the foot of the bed, "since you asked so nicely, maybe just," stroking Justin's left ankle, "one leg?"

Oh. Oh, fuck, yes, why the hell not. For someone who relied on his voice for a living, Justin was doing a piss poor job of exercising his pipes tonight. The best he could manage was something that sounded like "urmph" to his ears, but which JC must have interpreted as "go, mama!" because the scarf was off his ankle, and his leg was up on JC's shoulder before he could blink. JC glanced around a little wildly, then sighed in relief when his eyes lit on the condoms Lance had so kindly provided. He lunged up to grab one, ripping it open and sliding it over his dick one-handed, and then started scrabbling about on the bedside table again. It was a damned good thing Justin was so flexible, or his leg probably would have snapped right off the way JC was bending it this way and that as he rooted around.

"C? What the--"

"Lube."

"Um. You don't need--. It's okay. I'm. Uh."

"What?" JC knelt back, staring down at Justin. "Oh. Well, what do you know," he said, running his hand down Justin's leg, over the curve of his ass, slipping an experimental finger inside him. "That Lance. Don't you just love him?"

At the moment, Justin really did. At the moment, he had all kinds of warm, buttery feelings for Lance, and was thinking about hiring him as his own personal sexual butler, because, wow, he'd really thought of everything, even if he was still going to get the ass-kicking of a lifetime when Justin finally got free.

Time to back-burner the revenge plans, though, because suddenly JC was right there, sliding into him, burying himself in Justin's ass in one long, slow, perfect thrust, and all Justin could do was concentrate on stopping his brain from exploding, because this was just so unbelievably exactly what he’d wanted, and it was way, way too much, he was going to disintegrate, disappear in a puff of smoke, or maybe just stroke out on the spot. JC stopped moving, and Justin could see the effort he was making not to cut loose, could read it in the set of his face, and sense it in the tiny tremors running through the hands that held his head. For a moment Justin was caught in the moment, trapped by the tight look of concern in JC’s eyes and in the great wave of trust washing over him as he lay beneath JC, completely helpless, completely safe.

And then he was gasping, “go, go,” pushing upward with his hips, and that’s all it took, JC wasn’t holding back anything anymore, he was slamming into him, fucking Justin’s ass with his dick and Justin’s mouth with his tongue, his body plastered against Justin’s, his arms stretched out along the length of Justin’s arms, and it was so good, so perfectly, shockingly good, and it should have lasted forever, but it was already over. He was coming apart.

Later, when they were lying side by side, JC gently rubbing Justin’s unbound wrists to bring back the circulation, Justin said, “Um, JC?”

“Uh huh?”

“I was just wondering, how come you never--. It’s just, I’ve been flirting with you for months now. Didn’t you ever notice?”

“Oh, well, sure I noticed.” JC yawned and slid his arm around Justin’s waist to yank him a little closer. “Hard to miss.”

“Then how come-? I mean, dude. It was months! How come you never made a move? I thought you were ignoring me. Joey said you thought I was too young.”

“Well. No. No, I didn’t think you were too young.”

“Then why the fuck did you make me wait so long?”

JC looked confused for a minute and then shrugged. “I guess I just figured you’d let me know when you were ready. Anyone can flirt. I needed to be sure you really meant it, for you to do something a bit more direct than, say, licking your lips like a little whore whenever I scratched my dick. And, hey. You did. So, no worries, right? S’all good.”

“Yeah, except, if Lance hadn’t tied me to the bed, this wouldn’t have happened.” Jeez, thank God for Lance.

“Thank God for Lance, then.”

“No, but, JC, my point is, I didn’t make a move, Lance made it for me, so how does that make me readier than I already was?”

“Well, dude, I just screwed you into the mattress. Of course you’re ready.”

There was something seriously wrong with that logic, but Justin was too exhausted to try and sort it out right now. Or maybe ever. He curled into JC, and closed his eyes.

“Hey, C?”

“Mmm hmm?” He could tell from the blurriness of JC's voice he was almost asleep.

“So Chris is pretty vanilla, huh?”

“Uh huh.”

Justin thought about Chris for a few seconds. Then he thought about Lance. He snickered quietly into JC’s neck.

“Not for long, I’m guessing,” he said, and drifted into sleep.

- end -

Many, many thanks to budge (who really needs to get herself a livejournal asap) and callsigns for the beta and encouragement. Feedback welcome either by email to sola_fiamma@yahoo.ca or down below.

Edited June 4, 2010 to add story since website is now defunct.