Digital Getdown: Breakfast Is Served
by Karen and LB
© 2002
With the bus vibrating beneath his bunk, Lance normally falls asleep the second his head hits the pillow. It lulls him to sleep like a baby in a cradle. His watch tells him it's 2:00 in the morning, and they should be somewhere near Denver? Phoenix? Somewhere out west. Somewhere far from home. Normally, he loves the travel. But for these past few trips, his parents stayed behind and now he misses them and misses home. Misses the home-cooked meals his mom makes. So now, he lies awake listening to the muffled sounds of Steve and Joey playing video games at the back of the bus, but Lance isn't in the mood to join them. So he heaves himself from the bed, dropping lightly to the floor and padding over to the small table near the front of the bus, where it's a little quieter and he can work at his laptop without being bothered. He knows JC's probably asleep, and he gazes half-heartedly out the window as though he could see the other bus that's probably somewhere ahead of them by now. With a soft sigh, he logs onto AOL, hoping that at least one of his friends is up at this hour.
JC is just about to log off when he hears his "Buddy In" signal. He's been chatting with Tyler, catching up on the family news, and it's been so much fun he'd totally lost track of the time. He clicks on his buddy list and is surprised to see Lance's screen name--he'd figured Lance would have been asleep by now.
SNGWRTRJC: Hey, you!
IMNOTPUFU: hey. what r u doing up?
SNGWRTRJC: I was talking to Tyler. What are YOU doing up?
IMNOTPUFU: couldn't sleep.
SNGWRTRJC: Anything wrong?
IMNOTPUFU: a little homesick i guess. weird.
SNGWRTRJC: Not weird. You're allowed. These long tours are hard.
IMNOTPUFU: i guess. i'm usually ok about it. i don't know why it's bothering me tonight.
SNGWRTRJC: Called your Mom lately? Maybe you just need to hear home voices.
IMNOTPUFU: i called her after the show. i got so used to them being here.
SNGWRTRJC: I'm sorry, babe. {{{{{LANCE}}}}}
SNGWRTRJC: What would make you feel better? Talk about it or talk about something else?
IMNOTPUFU: i sound like a baby! like a big mama's boy.
IMNOTPUFU: u know, when I'm home the first thing i do is sleep for like half the day. then when i wake up my mom makes me french toast and we talk for hours.
SNGWRTRJC: You don't sound like a baby. Everyone gets homesick sometimes.
SNGWRTRJC: Sounds like we need to get you some french toast when we get in. Doesn't replace Mom, but you can talk to me.
IMNOTPUFU: y do i get the feeling there won't be much talking?
SNGWRTRJC: Hey! You make me sound like some perv who can't even have a conversation. I LIKE talking to you. I like doing other things, too, but I like talking to you.
SNGWRTRJC: I don't just love you, I like you, too.
IMNOTPUFU: i like you 2. i just miss home right now.
SNGWRTRJC: I know. If I could take you home for a couple of days you know I'd do it.
IMNOTPUFU: i know. i love u for that. but we've got shows to do. and I'm glad. i really am.
SNGWRTRJC: I know. Wanting one doesn't mean you can't want the other, right?
IMNOTPUFU: i'm spoiled. i guess you can't always have your french toast and eat it 2.
SNGWRTRJC: LOL! Thats one way of putting it. But Lance? I know your mom made it and all, but what's so great about French toast?
IMNOTPUFU: it's the best! i just love it. with powdered sugar, like in france.
SNGWRTRJC: Okay, even I know they don't have french toast in France.
IMNOTPUFU: they do! i got it when we were there.
SNGWRTRJC: Yeah, but they just called it toast, right? :-}
IMNOTPUFU: uh right.
IMNOTPUFU: it's still good.
SNGWRTRJC: Maybe I don't appreciate it cause all I've ever had is, like, Denny's
IMNOTPUFU: denny's is good but it's nowhere near as good as mom's.
SNGWRTRJC: Nothing's as good as what moms make.
SNGWRTRJC: I sound like I'm seven.
IMNOTPUFU: sometimes i feel like I'm 7 when I'm away from home.
SNGWRTRJC: That's okay. I like when you're my baby.
IMNOTPUFU: I'll always be your baby. oh hey, we're pulling over. guess mike could use a break.
SNGWRTRJC: YAY!
Lance shuts his laptop as the bus pulls into the rest stop. At this hour, there aren't many cars in the parking lot and there's little danger of being swarmed, but Lance doesn't feel like leaving the bus right now anyway, especially since he's wearing only his boxer- briefs and a t-shirt. He gazes out the window as the other bus pulls in and watches as their two drivers hop off to stretch their legs.
JC waits till Joey gets off the bus, then sticks his head in. "Where's my homesick boy?"
Lance looks up, unaware he was in such a deep trance. "Hey! What are you doing here?"
"We've got a few minutes. I figured I'd come visit."
"You could stay if you want. It's not like Johnny's gonna have a fit if we ride the bus for a few hours together."
JC flops down on the couch next to Lance. "Yeah, he probably will. But I don't care. Come here." JC puts his arm around Lance and pulls him close, letting Lance's head rest against his shoulder.
"I won't tell if you don't. I just don't want to be alone right now."
"That's why I'm here." JC squeezes Lance's shoulder. "You think you could maybe sleep if I stay?"
Lance's head falls into JC's lap as he curls his knees up. "JC, where you sleep, I sleep."
"Good." JC brushes his hand through the soft spikes of Lance's hair. "You need a blanket?"
"Mmmm hmmmm."
JC pulls an afghan from the back of the couch and spreads it over his boy. He shifts a little to get more comfortable on the couch and shushes Joey and Steve when they come blundering in.
"Aw, what's-a-matter," Steve mocks, "baby needs his sweep?"
"Shut up, Steve."
"Lighten up, JC. I'm only teasing. Besides, when he's all curled up like that with his blankie he does look like a little baby."
JC looks down at Lance and has to agree that Steve is right. "Yeah, I guess he does." He finds one of the couch pillows and puts it behind his head. "You guys gonna crash now?"
"Nah, I gotta beat Joey in the next round of Playstation."
"In your dreams, Stevie boy." Joey carries the bag of junk food to the back of the bus and Steve follows. There's the soft sound of a door closing and then muffled voices as the boys settle in for the rest of the drive.
At the same time, Mike, the bus driver, returns and shuts the door. When he sees JC and Lance dozing on the couch, he whispers, "Looks like you're staying till Phoenix."
JC looks up drowsily. "Yeah, looks that way." He looks down at Lance again and sees, gratified, that he's asleep.
The bus plows on. Lance drifts in and out of sleep, and when he finally does open his eyes he sees that it's not long after JC got on the bus. "Josh?" he calls out sleepily.
"Yeah, baby? I'm here."
Yawning and stretching, Lance tries to raise his head but he's too comfortable on the couch. He notices that at some point, he acquired a pillow and blanket, and he smiles, knowing he has JC to thank. "Whatcha doing?"
"Sleeping. Being a pillow."
"I haven't slept this good in days. You should ride this bus more often."
"Mmmmm. Tell Johnny that."
"He doesn't have to know."
"Guess not. Go back to sleep, baby."
The next time JC awakens, the clock tells him that they'd slept for about forty-five minutes.
Lance still slumbers peacefully in his lap. He carefully lifts Lance's head and slips out from under him, settling him back onto his pillow. JC heads to the kitchen for a drink, hanging on the refrigerator door as he decides what to have. He starts to poke among the contents of the refrigerator and that's when the idea hits him. "Bread, milk, eggs . . . ," he mutters, collecting what he needs. He looks in the cabinet for one essential ingredient and grins when he finds it.
It's the smell that hits Lance first. That warm vanilla scent. His eyelids flutter open, and he murmurs, "Mom?" But it's not his mother. It's JC. Standing over the small hotplate, with broken eggshells and a bag of bread strewn across the small countertop. "JC, what the heck are you doing?"
"Hey, babe. You have any idea how hard it is to make french toast in these conditions?"
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Lance sits up, the blanket falling to the floor. "French toast? You're making french toast?"
"Yeah, I thought it might make you feel . . . less lonely."
Lance staggers over behind JC and wraps his arms around JC's skinny waist. "Aw, darlin' I never feel lonely when I'm with you. Careful, it's gonna burn."
JC carefully turns the bread to brown the other side. "It's almost ready."
"I smell vanilla. We had vanilla?"
"I have no idea why, but yeah. It's like it was meant to be."
"Are you saying this french toast is predestined?"
"Totally. Like us." JC switches off the hotplate and pulls a dish out of the toaster oven where the already cooked toast has been warming.
"It smells so good. Like home." Lance kisses JC's neck, letting his lips linger there.
"Mmmmm. That feels so good. But your breakfast is gonna get cold."
"I don't know--I think breakfast is pretty warm." Lance glances sideways, toward the front of the bus. "But maybe we should take this back to the bunks."
"Whatever you want, babe." JC gathers up forks, syrup, everything they need.
"Here, let me help you. Whoa, JC--that's syrup."
"You don't want syrup? Oh, I forgot, you're one of those powdered sugar types."
"What do you mean 'types'? You have something against my kind, Chasez?"
"Just teasing you, baby. But you know us lower classes just dump on the syrup."
"Lower classes? Nah, you just need to learn the Bass secret."
"And that is?"
Lance brings his lips close to JC's ear and whispers. "Sugar, darlin'. Powdered sugar."
JC pulls the box from among the things he had gathered. "Like this? See, I listen to you. Are you ready for . . . breakfast?"
"Josh, I was born ready." Lance climbs into his bunk and scoots up against the wall, then takes the plate and box of sugar from JC so he can climb in.
"Oops, I forgot the forks."
Lance reaches out and grabs JC's arm. "We don't need forks."
"You're the french toast expert." JC climbs into the bunk and lets the curtain fall.
"See, the trick is to get the powdered sugar evenly on the toast." Lance demonstrates by attempting to sprinkle the light, white powder on the top piece of toast, but the bus shakes and a bit ends up on the mattress. "Oops." He puts the box down, breaks off a corner of the warm bread, and pops it in his mouth. With eyes closed, he moans. "Mmmmm, oh JC, this is SO good."
"It's really okay?" JC smiles, pleased. He breaks off a small piece of his own. "Hey, I can actually cook!"
"I might even let you cook me dinner at my house, this is so good," Lance says between chews, and to punctuate, licks his fingers. He breaks off another piece and holds it out to JC.
"Any time." JC opens his mouth to let Lance feed him the sweet morsel.
Lance brings the bread to within millimeters of JC's mouth, then suddenly pulls it away and draws it closer to him.
JC leans closer, whispering "Please?"
Lance shakes his head. "Nah ah. Closer."
"If I get any closer I'm gonna be in the plate." But JC manages to lean closer still.
Lance holds the morsel until it's practically in his own mouth then pulls it away just as JC is about to bite, capturing JC's mouth with his own.
JC mouth goes to close over sugar and vanilla and gets something much sweeter. Sugar and vanilla and Lance all rolled into one. He uses his hand to move himself closer and puts the hand down squarely in the middle of the plate of french toast, sending up a little flurry of powdered sugar.
Laughing into the kiss, Lance licks a few flecks of the sugar from the corner of JC's mouth. "Um, you got some on your . . . " and rather than wipe off the smudge with his finger, Lance brings his tongue to JC's cheek. When he leans forward, however, he inadvertently knocks over the box of sugar, sending up another cloud.
JC turns away to sneeze, then tries to extract his hand from the sticky plate. They're both giggling by now.
"It's a good thing we skipped the syrup," JC whispers, then takes Lance's face in his eggy-bready-sugary hand for another gooey, vanilla-flavored kiss.
Enticed by the sweet kiss, literally and figuratively, Lance leans in even further, licking, tasting, kissing, as his hand trails powdered sugar all over JC's face.
JC presses closer, deepening the kiss until he feels like he's melting into a wonderful, sugary puddle. He inches closer still, and ends up with his chest pressed into their breakfast. JC finally breaks the kiss to squirm out of his t-shirt, wiping it over his chest and leaving a trail of sticky crumbs and sugar before tossing it to the foot of the bunk.
"I don't think they serve it this way in France," Lance leers, as he moves in for another taste. He brings his index finger to JC's chest, running it along the sticky, crumbly surface and then puts it in his mouth, letting his tongue savor every delicious morsel of the sweet substance. "Mmmmmm, that's mighty tasty." This time, he rolls JC onto his back, his own shirt dragging through the demolished plate of food, and uses his tongue to clean JC's chest.
"Then I feel sorry for the French," JC laughs as Lance's tongue tickles him. He reaches to peel Lance's messy shirt off him. With a wicked gleam in his eye, JC sticks his hand into the french toast once more, then slides his hand into Lance's boxers. "Oh, goodness. Just LOOK where I got it."
"Josh!" Lance yelps, not just at the sudden intrusion of food products in a place where one doesn't normally find food products, but at the sensation of JC's fingers against his quickly stiffening erection. "You realize you're going to have to clean that up."
JC's grin widens. "That was the idea." He pushes Lance onto his back and scrunches himself down in the bunk, easing down Lance's boxers. "I always was a messy eater," he muses as he kisses away a stray crumb that's fallen on Lance's thigh.
In these cramped quarters, Lance can't move much, so he rests his head on the pillow and reaches out to touch JC's soft, thick hair. He sighs as JC's lips tickle his skin, making Lance more aroused with each passing second.
JC's tongue seeks out each little crumb and grain of sugar, his touch slow and teasing at first but becoming more intense, more lingering as it continues. He manages to avoid Lance's erection, concentrating on the area around it, until all evidence of foodstuffs is gone, then closes his mouth over the spray of sugar decorating the tip of Lance's now twitching hardness.
Lance groans and arches his back, pressing his palms into the mattress and causing yet another cloud of sugar to poof around them. He reaches for JC's hand and dips his fingers in a splotch of powder, then brings it to his lips, sucking each digit as JC captures his hardness in his mouth.
JC takes Lance in slowly, swirling his tongue around the hot member, carefully removing every evidence of the french toast and enjoying the contrast of the sweet flavors with the muskiness that is Lance.
Lance mimics JC's every movement; he swirls his tongue around the long, sugar-coated, slender fingers, moaning with delight and trying his best not to thrust into JC's mouth, thereby bringing this delicious breakfast to an abrupt halt.
JC finds a rhythm that seems to please Lance and his head bobs up and down Lance's shaft. Lance's moans egg him on, and he uses his tongue more to add stimulation to what his lips and mouth are already doing.
Lance release JC's hand from his mouth, clasping it in his own. "Josh, oh, that feels SO good. I'm gonna. You better . . . stop!"
JC raises his head. "Why would I want to stop?"
Lance bolts upright, banging his head on the top bunk. "Ow!"
"I think I better kiss it, make it better." With one hand JC pushes Lance back down. He drops his head to engulf Lance's erection in his warm mouth once more, bringing him swiftly back to the level of excitement he had reached before the interruption.
Realizing it's useless to protest, and since JC is making him forget the pain in his head, Lance gives in and moans in pleasure as he's once again brought near the brink and then explodes in a flash of ecstasy as his climax rips through him. JC swallows all Lance has to offer, then looks up with a grin. "Who needs syrup?"
Lance laughs at the roof of the bunk. "You're crazy, you know that?"
JC crawls back up next to Lance. "I know. But you love me anyway."
"What I'd love is some breakfast," Lance growls, moving in for another sweet, sticky kiss. JC relaxes and lets Lance control the kiss. He can feel crumbs under him, getting all over him. And he doesn't care.
There's a trail of white powder all down JC's chest, so Lance follows the pattern, feeling around on the mattress for more and dabbing it on one of JC's nipples. He licks the powder, flicking his tongue out before capturing the tight peak with his lips. While his mouth is thus occupied, his hand slides over JC's tight abs to the soft curls of hair surrounding his stiff member.
"Mmmmm. Sweet," JC sighs, pressing against Lance's lips, his hand.
"Yeah, it is," Lance murmurs, before capturing the other nipple and wrapping his hand around JC's erection. JC runs his hands through Lance's hair, distributing more sugar, then lets one travel slowly and shiveringly down the length of his spine.
Taking his time, Lance circles the nipple slowly, teasing the tight peak and making sure to catch every fleck of the sweet powder. But it's JC who really gets his taste buds salivating. JC, with his own natural sweetness seeping through his pores.
JC realizes he's humming and starts to laugh when he realizes it's "Sugar . . . ah, honey, honey . . . "
Lance freezes and bursts out in a fit of giggles, right on JC's chest. He lifts his head, and in his deep voice sings, "You are my candy . . . "
"And you've got me wanting you . . . " As they crack up in each other's arms, JC whispers, "You think we've driven Joey and Steve crazy yet?"
Lance cranes his neck toward the back of the bus, as though he could see through the wall. "Nah, they're probably so wrapped up in Tomb Raider you could drop a bomb on the bus and they'd never feel it."
"Good, Sweetie." JC nips at Lance's chin. "You've got a little, um, sugar there, honey."
"Aw, you're so SWEET, taking care of me like this," he purrs, and resumes stroking JC's long, hot erection.
"Who's taking care of who?" JC murmurs. "Feels so good."
"Tastes so good," Lance whispers, nuzzling JC's chin so his lips are on his neck, kissing away any remaining traces of powder.
"Always." JC says, tilting his head back to allow Lance better access. His hands move over Lance's back, dusting away sugar instead of depositing it.
That light touch arouses Lance once again, but he concentrates only on the hand on JC's heat and his lips on JC's skin.
JC can feel Lance's arousal as he stiffens against JC's thigh, and he slips one hand around to grasp Lance's erection and stroke it even as he is being stroked.
Soon, their rhythms become one, and Lance finds JC's lips again, joining their mouths in one perfect kiss.
JC feels himself getting close, and he intensifies the kiss as a moan starts deep inside him and travels slowly up to his throat. The vibration is enough for Lance--that sound alone is enough, and as he bucks against JC's hand he's careful not to squeeze JC too hard.
This time when JC moans, it's loud, as if it weren't being muffled against Lance's mouth. He explodes into Lance's hand, the hot liquid mixing with the sugar on their stomachs and chests.
Even as JC's trembling subsides, Lance maintains his hold, but when he glances down between their bodies, he can't help remarking, "This is gross. We should get cleaned off."
"Yeah. And then spend the rest of the night on the couch. "
"We sure can't sleep here. You know, I'm never gonna look at french toast the same way again."
"Have we officially become perverts?"
"Nah. It's not like we filmed it." Lance waits for JC to tumble out of the bunk, then follows, and they quickly make their way to the small bathroom.
Shortly after, Steve and Joey emerge from the back of the bus to refuel for their next round of video games. As Joey passes Lance's bunk, he notices the open curtain and peeks inside. Seeing the white powder, Steve remarks, surprised, "Drugs? Lance?"
Joey touches the powder and brings it to his lips. "Sugar."
"He's getting weirder and weirder every day."