Backstage Boys II
by Karen and LB
© 2002
Disclaimer: It's not about real life. I promise you, it's not about real life.
The bus ride to the next city, the next venue, the next hotel like all the other hotels, had been uneventful. JC didn't even remember what city, venue, hotel they were heading to. Lance usually knew that stuff and Lance was asleep. With his head in JC's lap. Which was perhaps a little unusual, but not so much that the other guys even commented. At one point or another in their history together, most of them had used at least one of the others as an impromptu pillow. And since JC had managed to just sit there, being a human pillow, and not touch Lance's face, stroke his hair, or any of the myriad other things he longed to do, there was no cause for comment. Of course, the fact that he, JC, was the last one up was more unusual. But even that escaped comment. As so often happened after a show, they had collapsed on the couches in the lounge, tv on, and talked about the show. Tonight's conversation--if you could call it that--had centered around JC's unusual ineptitude in the dance department. He had taken the teasing, only responding that he'd had an off night--wasn't everyone entitled to an off night now and then? Of course, nothing could be further from the truth. It had, in fact been the most amazing day and night of his life, thanks to the boy who now lay slumbering against his thigh, but he wasn't ready to tell the rest of the guys THAT yet. So he'd taken the teasing good-naturedly, trying also not to beam too obviously when, between the barbs tossed at him, praise was being given to Lance, whose dancing tonight had been better than the best they'd seen. As usually happened, the conversation slowed as the guys came down from the high of performing, and one by one they drifted off to make phone calls, or raid the fridge, or crawl into their bunks.
JC actually longed for his own bunk, but hadn't wanted to disturb Lance. But now, everyone else seemed to be asleep and he didn't want to sleep sitting up. And Lance couldn't really be comfortable, either. He shook the boy's shoulder gently. "Lance? Baby? Wake up." He soothed the boy's confusion at his abrupt awakening, and led him to the bunk area.
He began helping Lance out of his clothes and almost lost his resolve to simply put the boy to bed when Lance smiled dreamily up at him and said, softly, "You already did this once today, Josh." JC grinned at the memory. "Yeah, I did." He finished stripping Lance down to his boxers and t-shirt and Lance crawled into his bunk. JC leaned in to kiss Lance good night but Lance held on to him. "Come in with me, Josh. There's room." JC considered--this was something the other guys would surely notice, but he knew he didn't really want to hide anyway. So he also stripped down to his underwear and climbed into Lance's bunk, pressing up against his boy's back and wrapping his arms around him. "I love you, Lance," he whispered into Lance's hair. "I love you too, Josh," came the sleepy reply. And neither stirred or made another sound until the bus rolled up to the hotel four hours later.
*****
It's the sudden lack of motion that yanks Lance from the deep sleep he'd been in. Ever since they started touring, Lance had become more and more accustomed to sleeping on moving vehicles, and the motion and soft whir of the bus's wheels now never failed to lull him to sleep. As he tries to clear his mind and get his bearings he's aware of the warm body pressed against his, and the realization of who it is sends another wave of warmth through him. He feels the hot breath of his lover (HIS LOVER-- how he loves the way that sounds) on his neck, and a chill runs through him. One of JC's arms is pressed against his back, and the other is thrown casually around his waist, his hand resting near Lance's groin. It's this hand that begins to stir something else in Lance, something he remembers from the day before. He smiles, but doesn't move, afraid of what that movement will produce. But when he hears the others stir in their bunks and hears the padding of feet near the front of the bus, he knows his time alone with JC is limited. He turns his head slightly, and placing his hand over the one around him, whispers, "Josh, time to get up. We're here."
Joey snickers as he tiptoes up to Lance's bunk, planning to scare Lance awake. It's his favorite prank and one he never tires of, as childish as it was. Justin and Chris obviously never tire of it either, because they're just down the narrow corridor, waiting for Joey to flip open the curtain and yell "BOO!" Joey silently counts down "3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . . " then flings open the curtain of Lance's bunk. "BOOO--- JC?!?"
The thing about JC is--well, everyone thinks he loves to sleep. But it's not really that. It's more that he hates to wake up. Especially this time, when the concept of sleep is all tangled up with the warm, delicious-smelling presence he's wrapped around. He feels Lance stirring in his arms, then hears his soft whisper urging him out of sleep. And suddenly waking up doesn't seem like such an unpleasant proposition.
For about 30 seconds.
Then all hell breaks loose.
At least that's what it feels like.
Instead of the warmth and the quiet, there's a cold draft on his back and a loud voice proclaiming his name.
Joey. It figures.
"So, JC, wanna tell us what's going on?" Chris. JC sighs. Is everyone gathered around? The bus driver? Bodyguards? Hotel manager? Press? Mayor of whatever city they've just rolled into?
JC rolls over and sits up on the edge of the bunk. It's just Joey, Chris, and Justin. As if that weren't bad enough.
"Care to tell us why you're both sleeping in the same bunk?" When did Justin become the Spanish Inquisition?
JC feels Lance pull himself up beside him, hears his quiet, firm voice. "Nope." Lance's eyes dare Justin not to accept his monosyllabic answer. Justin shrugs and walks away. JC makes a mental note to tell Lance he loves him about a gazillion times in the next 24 hours.
"Let's get inside" Chris said. "But group meeting later, guys." He tries to sound fierce, but his eyes are dancing. Chris takes off in the same direction as Justin, dragging Joey with him. Joey looks back. "I assume this means we're changing our room assignments?" he snickers.
JC doesn't really hear. He's just taken his fist really good look at Lance since they awakened. His eyes are still sleepy, and his hair gives new meaning to bed head. He looks about 10. He also looks completely adorable. JC leans forward and gives Lance a rough, stubbly kiss. Remembering his earlier resolve, he whispers "I love you." Lance's smile is answer enough as they both reach for their duffle bags to pull on sweats for the short walk into the hotel.
Lance feels especially protective of JC since the encounter just moments before. It was like a challenge. Before, the rest of the guys had treated Lance like a kid brother, someone to wrestle with and tickle and tease--even Justin. But with that one declaration he saw something in their eyes; not quite respect, but on its way. It was a side of Lance even he didn't expect. He never got really angry with any of them and never raised his voice except in jest. But the thought of them questioning his relationship with JC made him feel like a papa bear protecting his cub. And he didn't see why this should be a big deal, anyway. It's no different than Joey waking up with whatever blond/brunette/redhead he'd picked up that evening. Okay, it was different, very different--Lance was in love with JC, and from what JC said, he was in love with Lance. Lance still cannot believe it, still thinks he's going to wake up and this whole thing will have been a dream. But it's not--he did make love to JC. He LOST HIS VIRGINITY TO JC. The thought suddenly hits him and he stumbles and nearly falls out of the bunk. He catches himself on JC's back while JC is pulling on his sweats. "JC, about what happened--I . . . if you want to stop this . . . if it becomes too hard for you to deal with . . . " He can't finish the sentence. Just looking at JC's face--the morning scruff, the blue eyes glistening even though they look like they just want to close for two or ten hours, the tousled hair--makes his heart skip.
JC looks down at Lance's worried face. He grins. "There's only one thing becoming hard around here. Or maybe two." Lance still looks serious, so JC becomes serious, too. JC takes Lance into his arms, hugging him close. "I love you. I want to be with you. That's all that matters. Anything else will work itself out. So stop trying to give me an out. I don't want one." JC releases Lance from his arms, dropping a kiss on his cheek. "Ready?"
Lance feels the wetness that those lips he loves so much left on his cheek. "Ready as I'll ever be." He takes a deep breath and jumps the three steps from the bus to the sidewalk. Did Mike the bus driver just look at him funny? Lance tries not to let his imagination get to him, but when they enter the hotel and retrieve their room keys from the tour coordinator, he feels all eyes on him. JC's reassuring touch on his back alleviates some of his nerves, but when they all enter the elevator the tension is so thick Lance imagines he'd need a blowtorch to cut through it.
It's Joey who finally speaks. "So, do we toss all the keys on the floor and just randomly pick one?"
Everyone just looks at him and as if on cue, burst out laughing. It's what everyone needed. When the doors open on their floor, Chris sidles up to Lance. "You can have my room," and he thrusts his card key into Lance's hand and continues walking, pausing only to tackle Joey and shove him against the hallway wall. Chris was supposed to have his own room. Lance just stares at the card, and a lump forms in his throat at this unexpected gesture. He looks around for JC, who is trailing behind.
JC decides he loves Chris. He is SO JC's second favorite person on the planet right now. Then he forgets all about his second favorite person, because Mr. Number One has turned the hottest, sweetest smile he has ever seen on him. Lance slips the key into the lock and they're in. They're alone. And they've got hours till sound check.
Lance tosses his bag on the floor, and without even giving a cursory glance around the room, pulls JC to him. He kisses him hard, so glad to be alone with him in a place where no one will interrupt them. He releases him suddenly and turns to the bathroom. "I feel grungy. I'm taking a shower. At the door, he turns around, lowers his head, tilts his eyes up, and smiles. "You coming?"
JC is stunned for a moment. THAT look is coming from the shy, quiet boy from Mississippi? Not to mention that suggestion? JC grins. "Right behind you, baby."
Lance smiles as he turns on the faucets. Steam soon rises and fills the bathroom, and he turns to JC when he enters. He throws his arms around the slightly taller boy and plants a soft kiss on his mouth while his hands reach for the hem of his shirt. He quickly pulls it off, then slides the length of JC's body, pausing for a moment at his crotch, where he gazes up to see JC's face, and then down to his feet, where he removes his shoes and socks. He runs his hands up around JC's tight calves, over his thighs, to the waistband of his sweats, which he yanks down in one hard pull.
Who would have thought that sweet, quiet little Lance would be so bold? JC can't believe it, and he can't believe that he is the one who brings this out in Lance. Speaking of bringing things out, he is already quite hard, as Lance can surely see through the thin fabric of his boxers.
Lance smiles up at JC when he sees the effect he has on the older boy. He places his palm against the bulge forming in JC's boxers and then slides his fingers inside the waistband. This time, he pulls down the shorts very slowly, his mouth mere inches from the erection forming there. He takes in the musky scent, then rises to his feet.
JC manages a shaky smile. His hands rest on Lance's shoulders and he slides them down his arms before pulling the boy to him. JC presses their hips together as they kiss, then he smiles "Aren't you wearing a lot of clothes? For a shower?"
Lance stops smiling and stares JC straight in the eye. "What are you going to do about it?"
"Well, I might have to do this . . . " JC slides his hands under the hem of Lance's t-shirt, letting his fingers caress the smooth chest, the flat stomach, the muscled back, before finally pulling the shirt off. Then he just has to plant kisses all over Lance's head because Lance's hair is messier than he's even seen it--adorably messy. He kneels to deal with Lance's sneakers and socks, rubbing his head against Lance's crotch as he does so. He smiles as he hears Lance's breath quicken. Finally, he turns his attention to the sweat pants, with their pesky drawstring. With his tongue, he pulls the drawstring out from behind the waistband, then uses his teeth to untie it.
Lance's eyes go wide at JC's ingenuity. He grips the dark hair in his hands and massages the head at his waist. His head falls back at the sensation of JC's face being so near to the growing erection in his shorts. He loves the feel of JC's hands on his body, and he wants desperately to be free from his pants. He tries not to make a sound but a quiet groan escapes his throat.
JC has always loved Lance's voice, but hearing that voice groan, and knowing that he's the cause of it, is better than he could have imagined. JC hooks his fingers under the waistband of Lance's sweat pants and begins drawing them slowly, slowly off. He can actually feel the moment when Lance's hands in his hair cease to be a caress and become a desperate grasp for balance. The knowledge that he can make his boy go weak at the knees is intoxicating. JC wraps one arm around Lance's waist as he helps him step out of the sweat pants.
Lance doesn't want to let go when he feels that arm snake around his waist. He throws his arms around JC's shoulders as he steps out of the sweats, normally so loose, but now feeling very constricting. He plants soft kisses on JC's neck, slick with sweat from the shower steam. He tastes salt and cologne and sighs against his skin. Still in his boxer briefs, Lance lets his hands roam to JC's chest, where his fingers brush the nipples that are beginning to harden.
JC allows Lance to wrap himself around him, then bends slightly to pick the boy up. He steps into the shower's spray and places Lance back on his feet again. JC slides his hands downward to caress Lance's buttocks through the already soaked fabric of his boxer-briefs. He pulls Lance closer, until their erections are rubbing each other, separated by that one thin, wet layer of fabric. Their lips meet, and then their tongues are intertwined as they stand together under the pounding spray.
Lance thrusts his hips at JC, wanting to feel their skin touching. The hot water trickles down his back and tickles his chest, and JC's tongue in his mouth makes the bulge in his shorts almost painful. "Josh," he pants, when he finally breaks free, "you feel amazing. But I gotta get these shorts off." He reaches for the elastic. JC lets Lance deal with the shorts, watching in amusement as the wet fabric sticks to his skin, and finally offering a hand as Lance hops on first one foot then the other to get the offending garment off. They're both laughing by then, but when they look into one another's eyes, they stop. JC takes Lance's face in both his hands and murmurs "I love you, James Lance Bass" before pulling him into another deep passionate kiss.
Lance throws his arms around JC and holds him close. When he pulls away, he says, "I still can't believe this. I still can't believe I'm here with you. Just yesterday . . . I mean, I didn't even know you felt this way. COULD feel this way. About me." He gazes down, then back at JC's face, now soaking wet. He runs his fingers along the side of JC's face. "I love you too, Joshua Scott Chasez," and then he blushes.
"I hope you never learn to stop blushing. Now let's take care of that grunginess you were complaining about." JC steps back and locates a washcloth. The hotel has left liquid soap on the shelf and he pours some on the cloth. He begins rubbing the soapy cloth over Lance's body, starting with one shoulder and down Lance's arm. He lifts Lance's hands and gently washes every finger. He moves to the other arm and does the same. Then, using broad strokes, he rubs the cloth over the boy's smooth chest, lingering over the nipples only briefly. JC turns Lance away from him, and scrubs the cloth over his back, smiling at the memory of how this all started with a back rub.
The sudden realization occurs to Lance: He's never showered with anyone before. Let alone a man. Let alone a lover. Sure, he's showered in locker rooms, and when the guys do shows in small venues sometimes there are only dorm-style showers. But this is the first time he's been alone with another guy in a shower. But then he remembers who he's with, and he forces himself to relax. After what happened yesterday, why should he be shy? He's seen and done more with JC in that short time than he has in all the time the group's been together. He tries to concentrate on JC's slender fingers holding the soft washcloth, the way he rubs it gently over his skin, the clean smell of the soap, the hot water running down his body. He hears JC humming softly, and when JC turns him around to wash his back, Lance closes his eyes and listens to the sound of JC's beautiful voice. He tries to control the stirring in his groin, but when JC's hand touches the curve of his butt, he flinches.
JC continues washing his lover with gentle strokes. He moves the cloth over the muscular butt, and down Lance's legs. He turns Lance toward him again and rubs the cloth over the front of Lance's leg, gently lifting each foot. As he rises, he very softly runs the washcloth over Lance's hardness, then moves him fully under the spray.
Lance gasps when JC touches his erection and grips his arm momentarily. When JC guides him under the shower head, Lance leans his head back and allows the hot spray to rinse away the soap and whatever tension he's feeling. When he tilts his head back, he takes a mouthful of water and sprays it at JC.
"Now you're in trouble," JC growls and kisses the offending mouth. "Just for that I'm washing your hair. And if you get soap in your eyes, you're on your OWN."
"Hey!" Lance shouts, as he feels himself being grabbed and spun around again. He tries to fight off the hands holding him, but he soon gives in with a laugh. "What if I don't want my hair washed?"
"You got any better suggestions?"
Lance considers the prospect of JC's hands in his hair, those long fingers entangled with his locks. He turns around, "Yeah, I do. But I think I do need my hair washed. After that long trip and all."
"Uh huh." JC finds the shampoo among the bottles on the shelf and pours some into his palm. Putting his hands into Lance's wet hair, he works the shampoo into a rich lather, then uses his long, slender fingers to massage Lance's scalp. He's rewarded with a moan of pleasure which makes him think about other things he could do to elicit such a sound. JC continues his ministrations, and at the same time, begins kissing Lance's shoulders and neck.
"Mmmm, I don't remember it saying to do that on the shampoo bottle. But boy, does it feel good." He purrs when he feels JC's fingers on his scalp and his lips on his skin. If he'd had a tail, it would be wagging. He hasn't felt this relaxed since . . . he doesn't remember when. A wave of disappointment soon crosses his face when he feels himself being turned again and the warm water begins to rinse out the lather on his head.
Contrary to his earlier words, JC is very careful not to get soap in his boy's eyes. He rinses all the shampoo from Lance's head, then pulls him close. "You're scrubbed and clean," he murmurs against the boys lips, his hands in the freshly washed hair.
"Mmmm, I feel clean. But someone here isn't." He snatches the washcloth from the towel rod, grabs JC by the shoulders and pushes him under the shower head. He steps back and slowly pours soap onto the cloth, then works it into a lather. He begins whistling while watching JC out of the corner of his eye.
JC is surprised by the quick change of roles. He stands under the pounding water, eyes closed against it, anticipating Lance's touch. Lance makes him wait. He wants to admire the sexy body in front of him, in the bright lights of the bathroom, with the hot water steaming all around them. Finally, he brings the washcloth to JC's face. "Close your eyes," he says quietly.
JC follows Lance's instruction and waits. Lance runs the washcloth down the firm cheek in front of him, then slowly draws it down JC's neck and over one shoulder, down his arm, to his hand, which he rubs in the same way their masseuse sometimes does before a show. He does the same to the other arm, and when he gets to JC's chest, he pauses and kisses his neck, tasting the clean soapy skin. He brings the washcloth to JC's chest, and traces small circles around first one nipple, then the other, then down his tight abs, to his navel, and then down toward JC's waiting erection.
Every touch sends shivers through JC. He's trying to hold still for Lance as Lance had for him, but it's not easy. It's never been easy for him to stand still, and now, with his boy's teasing touches, it's darned near impossible. He can hardly believe that Lance is the same boy who yesterday kept expecting JC to get up and walk away.
Lance gently rubs the washcloth the length of JC's penis. He smiles at JC's reaction. "Keep those eyes closed," he warns. He kneels down to wash the strong muscles of JC's legs, and when he's done he remains kneeling long enough to kiss the area around JC's twitching erection. He stands up again and guides JC around so he can wash his back. He pours some more soap onto the cloth and traces patterns on his lover's back. He gives JC's butt a gentle squeeze and runs his tongue along his shoulders. He just wants to keep touching JC, to make sure he's real.
If the touches and kisses weren't enough to make JC crazy, the voice--giving him orders, yet--would do it. He's practically trembling with the need to move, to grab, to kiss, but he waits and lets Lance play this out.
Lance touches both of JC's shoulders. "JC, what are we going to tell the others?" The question has been weighing on his mind ever since the bus pulled up to the hotel, and he wanted to get JC as relaxed as possible before bringing it up. Maybe this wasn't the best place to talk about it, but Lance didn't want to wait any longer.
"Tell them? Lance, I think they've got it pretty well figured out." He sighs and thinks about it a bit. "Except that they might think we're just fooling around. And I don't want them thinking that."
Lance stops what he's doing as he absorbs JC's words. So, he wants to make their relationship public to the guys? To let them know that they're in love? "So, we're not just fooling around?"
JC freezes at Lance's words. "I'm not," he says very carefully, quietly. "Are you?"
The words sting. "No. I never have. You know I take this stuff seriously." He suddenly doesn't feel like being here, in this shower, naked. He feels too exposed already.
JC pulls Lance into his arms. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that the way it sounded. I just--I get scared, too. You're the most important thing in the world to me."
Lance is still pissed. He should never have brought it up, and now he doesn't know what to do to rectify the situation. He stares at the soggy washcloth in his hand. "It's just that, I don't want the guys . . . I don't want things to change, you know? But they have."
"Yes, they have." JC turns off the water and steps out of the shower. He wraps a towel around his lover before taking one for himself. He's very confused. He'd thought Lance would be glad he didn't want to pretend their relationship was less than it was. "Baby? Please tell me what you want here?"
Lance leans against the bathroom wall and sighs. "I don't know what I want, Josh. I've never been in a serious relationship before." He fingers the towel at his waist. "This scares me. It was so easy before to use the excuse that we're always on the road, never in one place long enough or never free enough to start anything. But you and I are always together. There's no excuses here, nothing to stop us. But one day it might. One day you might meet someone else, or get sick of me." He crosses his arms and stares at the floor, unable to meet JC's eyes.
"Lance, I have been in love with you for a very long time. I've had plenty of opportunities to meet other people. But I haven't. And I don't want to. You're what I want. You're what I've always wanted. I love you." JC's voice breaks and he turns away.
Panicked, Lance grabs JC's arm. "Josh, wait." When JC doesn't turn around, he says in a shaky voice, "Don't go. Please. Don't. I...I love you. Please." He relaxes his grip on the older boy's arm.
JC, already on the verge of tears, breaks down at the sound of Lance's plea. He turns back toward Lance and buries his face against the boy's shoulder, gathering Lance to him.
Lance is overwhelmed by JC's burst of emotion. He always knew JC was the sensitive one in the group, but he'd never seen him cry before. And to know that he's the cause of the tears almost makes Lance himself cry. He holds JC tight. "I'm sorry, Josh. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to doubt you. I just needed to know. This means more to me than anything." He cradles JC's head and smooths down the wet hair.
JC is reassured by Lance's words. But they still haven't agreed on what to do about the guys. And since it's still in the air between them he feels like he has to ask. "What do you want to say to the guys? You know they're going to ask."
"I know. They already found out way too soon. What can we tell them? It's not like we can hide anything from them. And to tell you the truth, we don't have anything to hide. We've always been good about respecting each other's privacy and protecting each other from outsiders. I think if they really care about us, they'll respect what we have." He pulls away just enough so that he and JC can see each other's faces. "But we're gonna have to keep this from the press. And from Lou. Especially Lou."
"Yeah, I know. And that doesn't bother me. Those people don't matter to me. But the guys, they matter. I'm just worried if we don't tell them anything more that what they've figured out they WILL assume that we're just fooling around. And I don't want anyone to think that about us, about you."
"You don't have to protect me. I'm not some kid." Lance pushes away from JC and heads toward the bed. He flops down on his belly and rests his head on his crossed arms.
JC sighs. Can't he get anything right? He sits tentatively on the edge of the bed and touches Lance's damp hair. "Lance, come on. I know you're not a kid. But when you love someone, you feel protective of them. You just do."
Lance rolls over onto his back and reaches up to touch JC's face. "I know. But I don't want you to feel that you have to protect me from anything. We're in this together, right?"
JC lays his hand over Lance's. "Yes, together." He stretches out next to Lance on the bed, letting on arm fall across Lance's waist.
"Can we not talk about this anymore? I'm beat. And there's other things I'd rather do."
"Oh, really? Care to elaborate?"
"Yeah, I do." He rolls over on top of JC. "I'd like to do this." He kisses his lips. "And this." He kisses his cheek. "And this." He slides a hand down JC's chest and rubs his crotch through the terrycloth towel.
JC is confused by the sudden shift, but he's certainly not going to complain. His arms slide around Lance and with one hand he loosens the towel around Lance's waist, slipping the hand under the towel and cupping Lance's firm buttocks. His other hand moves up into Lance's hair and guides his mouth back to JC's.
"Mmmm, much better," Lance mutters into JC's neck when they finally part. "We can talk later, okay? I promise. Right now, I just want to be with you." His face grows concerned. "But . . . you're not too sore from yesterday, are you?"
JC blushes. "Yeah, um, a little. But I'm sure we can think of . . . other things to do. Like, maybe me making love to you? If you're ready for that?"
Lance's brow furrows and he tries to swallow, but his throat is suddenly dry. This is the boy he loves, the boy he trusts. And if he's in it for the long haul he's going to have to take that next step. "Yeah, Josh, I think I am." He pauses. "I want you to."
JC gathers Lance to him and hugs him very tightly and with great tenderness. He knows now how much trust it requires to do this and he hopes he can live up to Lance's trust.
Lance tries to hide his fear as best he can. This is a big step for him, but he knows it's one he must make if he and JC are to be together. JC's gentle touch on his back reassures him, and he slides his hands along the smooth, firm planes of the older boy's chest. He runs his tongue along JC's lips and then parts them with his own, throwing all the passion he can muster into that one kiss as a sign to his lover that he's ready and willing to take the next step.
JC keeps his hands moving in soothing circles on Lance's back, but his mind is racing. He knows Lance must be scared, because he himself had been only yesterday, although he had done a very good job of not showing it. But he's scared, too, of hurting Lance. He hopes against hope that he can contain his own excitement enough to be as gentle as he knows Lance needs him to be. JC returns Lance's kiss with all the love and tenderness he has, then rolls the boy gently away from him and sits up. "Be right back," he whispers, kissing Lance on the forehead. He hurries to his bag, retrieving the K-Y and one of the condoms he "liberated" from the dressing room yesterday. He returns to the bed, depositing the items on the night stand. "For when we're ready," he says quietly, looking down into the boy's huge, pale eyes.
Lance can get lost in JC's touch. When the older boy holds him, he feels safe. In spite of the fact that Lance loves what he does for a living, loves the travel, loves the fame, he needs something to latch onto. He doesn't want to let go. But when JC gets up and retrieves the things they need to consummate their love, his eyes grow wide and the fear crosses his face again. He knows he shouldn't be afraid, but it's still so new to him. He wills himself to relax, to remind himself that it's JC, his friend, his lover, and he knows JC would never push him to do anything he didn't want to do. And he does want this. He wants this closeness. He wants to please JC, to give him the same pleasure that JC had given Lance only yesterday. Gosh, yesterday, he thinks. One day changed everything. He bites his lower lip as JC stands before him and nods. He moves over on the bed to give JC room. The towel is still half open at Lance's waist; he stretches out on his side and holds a hand out to his lover.
JC takes Lance's hand and sinks down next to him. He lays Lance's hand against his own cheek, then turns his head to kiss the middle of the palm. JC stretches out next to his boy, and pulls him close. "Remember, same as yesterday. We don't do anything you don't want to do, and if you say 'stop,' I stop." He wraps Lance into a tight embrace, touching Lance's lips very softly with his. He waits until he feels Lance relax, and then he deepens the kiss, pushing his tongue past Lance's teeth and probing his hot mouth. JC's hands roam over his lover's body, slipping beneath the towel, loosening it completely, and seeking the heat of Lance's erection.
Small, quiet moans escape Lance's throat when he feels JC's hand on his quickly stiffening penis. He breathes in the clean scent of his freshly showered friend and his arousal increases. He meets JC's tongue with his own and runs his hands down his strong shoulders, to his chest, where he uses his thumbs to bring JC's nipples to hard points. He feels JC's own erection through the towel still wrapped around his waist and smiles to himself. Even now, in this intimate embrace, he cannot believe the effect he has on this gorgeous boy.
_That voice, JC is thinking. The sounds emanating from Lance arouse JC as much as any touch could. Although touch is good too . . . JC presses his hardness against Lance's thigh, rubbing himself against his lover. The rough terrycloth adds an unexpected sensation. As he feels himself getting more and more excited, he continues to caress the boy in his arms, slipping his hand lower to fondle Lance's balls, and then lower still.
Lance continues to kiss JC, but when he feels the hand move to that place, he freezes. He knows JC has said they could stop anytime, but he doesn't want to stop. The reaction is completely involuntary, and he brings his mouth close to JC's ear. "It's okay. It's okay," he says, almost as much to reassure himself as to reassure his lover. He begins to stroke JC's chest gently and feels his heartbeat quicken.
JC keeps his movements very gentle and slow. He can feel how jumpy Lance is and wants to soothe him. Then Lance speaks right into JC's ear, words of reassurance, and JC is moved almost to tears. "Do you have any idea how much I love you?" he whispers, wondering how he ever got so lucky.
Lance lowers his eyelids, shyly, and color spreads through his cheeks, blending with the spattering of freckles. "I think I'm starting to get the idea." He turns serious. "I love you too. So much." His voice almost cracks with these last words. "And I want this. I want YOU." He places a tender kiss by JC's ear and nuzzles his neck, silently urging him on.
While they were talking, JC had reached for the tube of gel on the night stand and spread some onto his hand. When he again slips his hand between Lance's legs, Lance doesn't flinch. Lance's words of encouragement still in his ears, he gently rubs at the sensitive, puckered flesh with his slicked fingers, letting Lance get used to the sensation before pushing the tip of one slender finger into the opening. JC's words distract Lance long enough so that when he feels the finger against his opening he's not surprised. He bites his lower lip in anticipation and feels the push of JC's finger into his virgin flesh. He sighs, trying his best not to wince when he feels the finger slide in farther. There's no pain, just a slight discomfort, and Lance does his best to relax and concentrate on the sensation. Because, much to his surprise, he likes it. "Oh, Josh," he moans.
That moan pleases JC beyond belief and he releases a breath he hadn't even realized he was holding. Up to this point, he had feared that Lance was going to tell him to stop; that he hated what JC was doing, but hearing that moan, and feeling the boy relax into his caresses, reassures him. He drops his mouth to Lance's, nibbling on the soft, full lower lip, and tentatively tries working a second finger into Lance's warmth.
When he feels the second finger enter, Lance does flinch, and pushes against JC's shoulder, but then he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Don't stop," he whispers. A myriad of thoughts passes through his mind: What would his friends back home say if they knew what he was doing right now? What is JC doing with him when he could be with someone more experienced? JC CHASEZ HAS HIS FINGERS INSIDE ME. Those fingers that Lance has seen produce the most beautiful sounds on a keyboard now produce the most amazing sensations inside him. Lance pulls JC to him and flicks his tongue at the full, luscious lips, then presses his own to them. When he releases JC, it's only to murmur, "This feels amazing."
JC's eyes are joyful as he looks down at Lance. "I'm so glad you think so. I want this to be so good for you, baby." He drops his mouth to Lance's throat, kissing and licking the prominent adam's apple which has always been fascinating to him. His fingers keep up their slow but insistent rhythm, and with his other hand, he caresses Lance's erection with the same rhythm.
When he feels JC's hot tongue on his adam's apple, always a very sensitive spot for Lance, he nearly comes right then and there. But he closes his eyes and lets JC take control, pumping his hardness into JC's soft, strong palm. "It is good, Josh. It is SO good," he groans. He fumbles with his hand for JC's towel and struggles to get it off. He needs to touch him, needs to see the look of pleasure in his lover's face.
JC moans as he feels the towel being moved aside, and then the incredible sensation of Lance's cool hand closing around his hot member. He lays his head against Lance's chest, listening to his heartbeat. When he feels like he can't wait any longer, he looks up at Lance, eyes a sapphire blaze, and whispers "I want you."
Lance has never seen such lust in JC's eyes before and he's shocked at the realization that the look is directed at him. He's more scared than ever, because now JC seems like twice his age and Lance suddenly feels like a child again. Then he looks down at his hand clutching JC's erection and remembers who he is and where he is. He's in the arms of the boy he loves, the boy who took him from innocence to manhood in one memorable day. Lance manages to smile when he says, "I'm all yours," as he gives JC's fiery erection a gentle squeeze.
JC pulls away to deal with the condom and gel, then he turns back to Lance. He very tenderly takes his lover's face in his hands and kisses him. He spreads Lance's legs and moves on top of him. Supporting his weight on his arms, he looks down. Lance's eyes are closed, and he looks apprehensive. He also looks angelic, at least to JC. "Lance," JC whispers, repeating it until Lance looks up and meets his gaze. Blue eyes hold green as JC says, softly "I love you, Lance," before pressing himself slightly into Lance's opening.
Lance gasps as he feels JC's erection gently probing him, then a sudden flash of pain at the first thrust. He bites his lip to keep from crying out and instead tries to focus on JC's eyes, eyes filled with love and concern and lust. His own eyes well up, and he fights back the tears. The last thing he needs is for JC to see him crying like a baby. He places his palms on JC's chest, feeling his quickening heartbeat. The heart that beats for him. He allows that feeling to wash over him. "Josh," he moans.
JC watches Lance's open face. He knows he's hurting Lance, and he'd rather die than do that. So he stops moving, and whispers "I'll stop. We don't have to do this."
Lance grips JC's shoulder so tight he realizes he must be hurting him. He loosens his grip and shakes his head. "No! We do. I want you to. Please. I need you, Josh. I want you to make love to me." In a softer voice, he adds, "It's okay. Really. Please, Josh."
"I-I just don't want to hurt you, baby." JC is torn between desire and concern. He listens to Lance's words, his tone, and gives in to desire. He pushes in a little farther, watching carefully for Lance's reaction. This time Lance steels himself. The last thing he wants to do is push JC away. The look of concern on JC's face makes Lance love him more than he already did. Just KNOWING that JC would stop should he give the word is enough for Lance. He'd endure anything for him. Any pain. He realizes now how much JC loves him. It's not just infatuation, not lust, not some fleeting crush. Lance wants to prove his love for JC. So when JC thrusts again, tenderly, Lance grits his teeth and moans quietly. The first time is supposed to hurt, right? And then it just gets better. And he wants to get past this so that he and JC can share more intimate moments, can make love whenever they want. "It's okay, Josh," he reassures his lover. "It's okay. I love you. I want you." He kisses him then, softly, sweetly, making soft noises into his mouth.
Lance's words, his actions, just about melt JC. He doesn't deserve this beautiful boy, but he's going to do everything in his power to try to deserve him. Instead of trying to push in further, JC begins to move very gently in and out of Lance, in a slow, quiet rhythm. Not a thrusting, but a rhythmic rocking. His lips never leave Lance's.
Lance concentrates on the sudden shift in movement. At first, he's puzzled. Why doesn't JC continue thrusting? Then, he begins moving in time to JC's motion. There is no pain, only a slight pressure, and something else. JC hits a spot and Lance gasps. Wow, that felt amazing! He kisses JC hard, trying to transfer the pleasure he's feeling onto the older boy.
JC feels Lance responding and finally feels like maybe he's doing something right. He reaches down and starts stroking Lance's stiff organ, trying to make him feel as much pleasure as JC himself is feeling.
A sharp intake of breath is the first response to JC's touch on Lance's erection. If there was any doubt that Lance was enjoying this as much as JC it's dispelled with that one magical action. Lance places his hand over JC's and then slides it up his arm to his neck and his mouth. He traces the line of JC's lips, the soft lips that Lance loves to feel on his own. He smiles up at JC in reassurance.
JC kisses the fingers touching his lips, then drops his lips to his lover's. His hand continues to stroke Lance's erection and he can tell he's getting more aroused, which emboldens JC to thrust into him a little more. Lance doesn't tighten or flinch this time, and he makes a small, pleased sound in his throat.
This time, when JC thrusts into him, the pain is brief. He loves JC even more for taking it slow, for not taking him and using him and being brutal and uncaring. JC is exactly the type of person he's been waiting for: someone Lance can put his trust in unconditionally, someone he can expose himself to without holding back. He places a hand on JC's warm cheek as he kisses him, stroking the soft skin, brushing against the stubble on his chin, tracing the curves around his eyes. He makes small gasping noises as JC continues to thrust, urging him in further.
JC feels totally lost in Lance's willingness, his pliancy, his heat, his sweetness. This is better than he could have imagined in the years he had waited for it. He still moves careful, alert to any signs of pain or trepidation from Lance, but he feels freer every moment. His hand on Lance's erection becomes firmer, surer, as he gets a sense of how Lance likes to be touched.
Lance watches JC's face and notices that he is beginning to relax. He still senses his concern, but he doesn't feel that JC is going to stop, or that he wants to. When he feels JC's grip on his hardness tighten, he presses his fingers into JC's back, careful not to let his nails scrape the tender skin. "That feels so good, Josh," he says, before he even realizes he's speaking. Then, embarrassed by his words, he looks away.
"And you feel AMAZING, Lance." JC is not embarrassed. He wants Lance to know exactly how he makes him feel. He knows he's getting close, and he slows down a bit, his hand more insistent on Lance's erection, not wanting to come before Lance does.
Lance grunts as he feels the next thrust. In all seriousness he looks at JC and says, "I just want you to be happy. I want you to enjoy this, Josh." One hand grips the bed sheet into a tight fist, and the other begins to stroke JC's chest again, fingering the hard bud of one beautiful brown nipple before moving on to the other.
That's all it takes. Lance's loving words push JC over the edge, and he's coming, buried deep inside Lance. He hand tightens on Lance's hot erection, and he's whispering "Come on, Lance, baby, come."
Lance flinches and his back arches at JC's sudden rush of emotion and physical energy. The heat inside him combined with JC's pressure on his erection sends him over the edge. He grabs JC's shoulders and his body convulses as his erection explodes in JC's hand. He cries out loud and deep, and tears sting his eyes.
JC gathers Lance to him tightly and holds him for a very long time as he listens to their heartbeats returning to normal. He has never felt happier; he has never felt closer to another human being than he does right now and he murmurs words of love into Lance's ear.
Lance concentrates on the words being whispered to him, the heat of his friend on his neck and throughout his body. He's aware of how damp he feels, and of a dull ache, and of the feeling of utter peace. His eyelids flutter as he struggles to stay awake, and he sighs, long and hard. JC finally pulls out, gently, but Lance gasps one last time and then lets his body go completely limp in JC's protective arms.
JC holds Lance for a long time, listening to his breathing become steady and regular. When he's sure Lance is asleep, he pushes himself up and away, rising. He walks toward the bathroom, removing the condom and dropping it in the wastebasket, then soaks a washcloth in warm water and cleans the evidence of their lovemaking from his skin. He rinses the cloth and returns to his lover, and, very gently, trying not to wake him, runs the washcloth over his pale skin, smiling a little--isn't this how they started off today?
It's the sudden rush of warmth washing over him that first brings him back to awareness, then a cool dampness as he feels a soft cloth against his face. And the scent of JC, so close, so clean and musky. Lance smiles before opening his eyes, wanting to absorb it all before looking at his lover once again. HIS lover. HIS JC. He blindly reaches for him, and when he opens his eyes he's touching that strong, lean chest. "Good morning," he says groggily, even though he'd only dozed for a few minutes. "What time is it anyway?" He yawns and stretches trying not to disturb JC's ministrations.
JC tosses the cloth on the nightstand and crawls into bed with Lance, pulling the covers up over them both. "It's still early, baby. We have time to sleep." He wraps himself around Lance, laying his head on the boy's chest and listening to the soothing sound of his heartbeat.