Cookin'

by Karen and LB
© 2002

Inspired by Lance's appearance on Emeril Live--specifically how Emeril kept saying "my good friend LANCE" and such. We were talking about how, if he kicked that up another notch, it would be menacing. So we made it menacing. :-}

Disclaimer: We don't own them, although with the amount we've spent on merchandise, tickets, etc in the last year, we should. None of this is true. To the best of our knowledge.

"Isn't that right, Lance? My GOOD FRIEND Lance! TELL them, Lance!"

"Nooo, please don't make me, Mr. Emeril, sir! I'll be good! I'll be good!"

"Eat your pie, boy!"

"B-but I don't even like peanut butter."

"You do now, kid."

"I want my mommy."

"Your mommy ain't here now, boy band boy."

"Is there a problem here, Lance?"

"JC! Where did you come from? I'm so happy to see you!"

Emeril glowers.

"JC, dude, get me out of here!"

"Oh, I think it's Emeril who needs to leave. And all these other people." JC snaps his fingers and they are suddenly alone in the kitchen, which is also now perfectly clean. And stocked.

"Wha--what happened? Josh? How . . . what . . . ?” Lance glances around, suddenly feeling very hungry. But not necessarily for food.

"Does it really matter how, Lance? Do you want me to bring them all back?"

"NO! Gosh, no, JC! Please! Emeril scares me. But . . . what are we doing here?"

JC gives Lance a melting look. "Whatever you want, Lance. Whatever you want." 

Lance glances around the large kitchen. There are bowls of food everywhere, and a large refrigerator. "Well," he says tentatively, "I am kind of hungry." He turns his pale green eyes up to JC, and there's just a hint of a twinkle. 

"Hungry? Well, we've got everything you could possibly want, right here. Everything."

Lance takes a step closer to JC, the hunger in his eyes evident. "Everything?"

JC stands very still, and lets the boy approach. "Everything."

Lance continues to move closer and notices a bowl of strawberries on the counter to his left. He takes one between his thumb and forefinger and brings it to his lips, eyes locked on JC's. He opens his mouth slightly and runs his tongue along the tip. He closes his lips around the plump fruit and takes a small bite. "Mmmmm." 

JC watches until Lance consumes the ripe berry. Then he nods and walks to the refrigerator, taking from its depths a copper bowl of unsweetened whipped cream. He puts the bowl next to the strawberries and steps back, slightly. 

A predatory expression clouds Lance's eyes as he picks up another strawberry and dips it in the white, fluffy cream. His tongue flicks out and licks just the tip, then he takes another small bite. He's inches away from JC when he holds the ripe berry up to JC's mouth. 

JC opens his lips and his tongue moistens them. He then leans forward the requisite centimeters to close his lips around the berry. And Lance's fingers. His hand reaches up to grasp Lance's and he allows the fingers to slip from his mouth while he devours the strawberry. Then he brings Lance's fingers back to his mouth and carefully licks the remaining cream from them. 

A sly smile forms on Lance's lips as he reaches behind him for the bowl of cream and dips his fingers in. He brings them to his mouth and begins to back away, sliding his tongue around his index finger and then sliding the finger into his mouth, slowly, then drawing it back out. 

JC dips his own fingers into the bowl, and offers them to Lance.

Lance steps forward, and grasping JC's hand, brings it very slowly to his lips. 

JC's eyes close as he feels Lance's lips closing around his fingers, Lance's tongue twirling around them. When he feels Lance release his fingers, he opens his eyes, startled to find Lance's eyes so close, staring directly into his. "So, Lance, got any other appetites you'd like to satisfy?" 

"Oh yes," he growls. "That was just the appetizer." He steps away and looks around the kitchen. He begins to wander around nonchalantly, touching bowls, picking up various contraptions. With his back to JC, he says, "I'd really like something," he looks over his shoulder, "hot.” 

JC leans back against the counter, watching Lance move about the room. "How hot?" 

Lance runs his fingertips along one counter and gazes at the floor. "Oh, something that will make me thirsty for more."

"Such as?"

He spies a bowl of hot peppers at the far end of the counter. He leans his body against the tiled surface and reaches over to the bowl. He extracts one, long, green pepper and contemplates its shape. "This is hot," he states, matter-of-factly. "But I think I'd like something I can really sink my teeth into." 

JC walks over very slowly and grips the hand holding the pepper. He, too, looks it over thoroughly, then says, again, "Such as?" 

Lance slips out of JC's grip and steps back and around the other side of the counter. "I dunno. I'm feeling in the mood for . . . a buffet." 

"A buffet, Lance? So one . . . dish wouldn't satisfy you?"

"Depends on the dish. What did you have in mind, Josh?"

"Oh, I don't know. Something exotic?"

"Mmmm, sounds appetizing. Describe it to me."

Lance begins making his way over to a large table in the middle of the kitchen. 

"Lance, you KNOW I can't cook."

"Who said anything about cooking?" He backs up toward the table.

"Isn't that why we're here? To heat something up?"

"Something is definitely getting hot." He feels the edge of the table hit his butt, and he hops up on it.

JC walks over to where Lance is sitting, moving so close that Lance has to let JC stand between his knees. "We can't have things getting TOO hot, though. That's when you get scorching." JC is so close that Lance can feel JC's breath on his cheek. "Proper regulation is key." His lips are barely separated from Lance's by a paper thin space. "And for that you need a thermometer." His lips touch Lance's, and his tongue slips between Lance's lips to probe within. 

Lance is about to speak when he finds JC's mouth is suddenly pressed to his, muffling his words. He moans into the kiss, finding JC's hot tongue with his own. His palms are pressed against the table, and he counters JC's weight. When they finally break, Lance can barely speak. 

"Is it hot enough?"

"Oh, I think we could turn it up a few degrees." Lance begins to pant, then quickly hops off the table, evading another invasion of JC's mouth. He heads to the refrigerator and opens the large door, relishing the cool blast of air. "I think we need to add a few ingredients first." 

"I like how your mind works."

"Just my mind?"

"Among other things."

Lance continues rummaging through the refrigerator. "What things?"

"Your voice. I like how your voice can make me go from calm to crazy in about two seconds." 

Lance blushes, not able to look at JC just yet. "Crazy, huh?" He gathers up his findings in his arms and puts them on the counter behind JC, so he can't see. He comes up behind him and snakes his arms around the older man's waist. "Anything else?" he says, deeply. 

JC shudders at the sound of that voice, and not just the sound, but the feel of those vibrations, pressed right up against his back. "Um, your hands." He runs his hands over the pair gripping his waist. "Those fingers."

Lance, his head resting on JC's shoulder, brings his face so close to JC's cheek it's practically touching. He slips his hands out from under JC's and reaches to the side. "You know, C, food is a very sensory experience." His lips are millimeters away from JC's skin. "Close your eyes." 

JC complies, curious to see what Lance has in a store for him.

Lance brings the soft towel up to JC's eyes. "Trust me," he whispers as he ties it gently but securely. He rubs any tension from JC's neck and shoulders, then slides his hands down the lean, muscular arms. Placing his hands firmly on his shoulders once again, he carefully turns JC around so he is facing him. He backs him up a few inches, then stops. "Hop up," he commands, as he helps JC onto the large wooden table. "Just sit there a minute." 

Being blindfolded = bad. Being blindfolded by Lance = good. JC ponders this revelation as he sits, waiting for Lance's next move. 

Lance can tell JC is uneasy about being in the dark, so to speak, as he slices a thin wedge from the lemon in his hand. But he intends to make this as fun for JC as he knows it's going to be for him. He brings the wedge to JC's lips and gently rubs; when he sees JC flinch he coos, "Hang on, just a sec," then picks up the bottle of wine he brought over and tips it onto his fingers. The liquid drips over his hand and onto the floor, but Lance ignores the mess. He quickly brings his fingertips to JC's puckered lips and rubs the liquid over the soft surface. 

JC's mind is racing. Part of him wants to know where Lance learned to do stuff like this and if he can sign up for classes. Oh, and Lance's whole "I'm so shy" thing? Yeah, right. His tongue slips out to lick the wine from his lips, but too late to capture Lance's fingers. 

Before JC can lick all the wine off his lips Lance bends forward and presses his lips against JC's, tasting the combined sourness of the lemon with the sweetness of the wine and JC's own particular taste. He pulls away, reluctantly, because he has more in store. He begins to peel an orange, quickly discarding the rough rind and breaking off one plump slice. He brings it near JC's nose, allowing him to breathe in the sweet, tangy scent before bringing one end to his lips. He waits for JC's tongue to flick out and touch it, then he slides it onto the end of his tongue and brings his own mouth to the other end of the orange slice. He sucks gently, meeting JC's mouth halfway. 

The intensity of the sour and sweet flavors combined with the maddeningly brief touch of Lance's lips has JC squirming on the table. And then the addition of the shape and tang of the orange slice, followed by another touch of Lance's lips--well, JC is trying to be good, but he doesn't know how much longer he can sit here and be passive. 

"Am I going to have to tie you down as well?" Lance warns, with a chuckle. He loves this game, loves the control. "Now, this next part
can get a little messy, so I to think we need to get rid of this." He begins to slowly unbutton JC's shirt, kissing his way down JC's chest as he does so. He pulls the shirt off JC's hands and tosses it aside. He places one hand securely at the base of JC's head and places the palm of his other hand on JC's smooth chest. "You're going to lie back. Don't worry. I’ve got you." 

JC wills himself to be still and let Lance do whatever he wants. It's not easy--he's not a person who stays still easily in the best of circumstances, and now--well, everything that Lance is doing is making him want to grab him and drag him right up onto the table with him. So he bites his lip, and wills his limbs to quietude, and waits for Lance's next move. 

Lance walks around the table leisurely. He could stand here all day, admiring the way JC's torso is stretched the length of the table, his hands uneasily at his sides, and the way his knees dangle off the end, and just the complete vulnerability of him. Lance himself can't believe he's doing this, but once he started he can't seem to stop. It's just so . . . arousing to see his lover in such a position. Finally, Lance wanders over to a bowl of ice and removes a large, dripping cube. "It's getting a little hot in here, don't you think? I think you need to cool off a bit." He brings the cube to JC's lips, waiting until he adjusts to the sudden coldness, then rubs it along his temples and down his chin, to his throat. He quickly lifts it from his skin when he sees JC flinch, then touches it gently to one already erect nipple. 

JC jumps when the ice makes contact with his nipple. It's a soft touch, over almost instantly, but incredibly intense. When the touch comes again, it's less shocking, but certainly not less pleasurable. JC's fingers work against the tabletop. He wants to move so badly, but he also doesn't want Lance to stop. 

A smile creeps across Lance's face as he watches JC try to contain himself when he begins making slow, lazy circles around his nipples. The cube is starting to shrink, so Lance slides it down toward JC's navel, leaving a wet trail and dipping it into the small circle before reaching into JC's pants and letting the rest of it melt. JC's knee jerks up at the unexpected contact, and Lance puts a calming hand on it, returning it to the table. He steps over to a small microwave and places a jar inside, humming softly as the liquid inside heats up. He glances at JC and sees the expectation in the tight set of his jaw. Returning to the table, Lance leans in close to JC's ear, his hot breath touching the prone man's skin as he whispers, "Now for something a little warmer." He hovers over JC's chest and tilts the jar; warm sticky syrup pours out and drizzles tiny rivulets over the surface of JC's chest. 

After the coldness of the ice, the syrup, while not actually hot enough to burn, is like fire again JC's skin. He takes a deep breath and lets it out, shudderingly. His hands seek the edges of the table and he grasps them to hold himself in place.

"Too hot, babe?" Lance asks, genuinely concerned. He's liking this game, but he doesn't want to play it at the expense of his lover. When JC shakes his head, Lance dips a finger into the sticky design on JC's chest. "Good. Because a meal is supposed to be pleasurable." He brings his syrup-coated finger to JC's lips and touches just the tip to JC's bottom lip. 

JC puckers his lips to pull Lance's finger in. He traps the finger between his teeth and sucks the sweetness from it. His hands loosen their grip on the table edge and he relaxes his arms against the table, content for the moment. 

Lance sighs as JC's tongue engulfs his finger. He runs the digit over JC's lips one more time before pulling it away. Placing the hand on the other side of his prone lover, he leans down and runs his tongue along the slick surface of JC's chest. "Mmmm," he groans, sliding his tongue along the trail of syrup. He teases one nipple with his tongue, then closes his lips around it, tasting the sticky sweet syrup against the hard bud. His tongue travels to the other nipple, and this time his uses his teeth. Once again, he brings his lips to JC's and presses his sticky mouth against his lover's. The combination of the sweetness of the syrup and the heat of JC's mouth cause the erection beginning in his groin to throb. 

Could anything be sweeter than syrupy Lance? JC raises his head, pressing into the kiss, and, hoping he's not breaking any rules, wraps his arms lightly around Lance. Lightly, so Lance will know he's not trying to hold him there. He moans softly, shifting his hips slightly to try to alleviate the pressure of his tight pants on his swelling hardness. 

Lance parts JC's mouth with his tongue and feels as though he could consume him right then and there. His hand moves to JC's crotch, where he cups the growing erection forming there. He slowly lowers JC back to the surface of the table, and slips his hand inside JC's leather pants. JC thrusts against Lance's hand, and pulls him deeper in the kiss. With his other hand, he starts pulling at Lance's jacket. He's wearing WAY too much clothing. 

Lance smiles into the kiss as he helps JC remove his jacket. He hadn't realized how hot he'd gotten until it was off, and he could feel the sweat on his back. He pulls away and slides his hand out of JC's pants. With a flick of his fingers, he has the button open and slides the zipper down, cupping the erection once more before removing his hand completely. 

JC reaches for what's no longer there, groaning in frustration. He's loving this game, but if Lance doesn't hold still for more than 60 seconds soon, he's gonna scream.

Moving to the end of the table, Lance removes JC's shoes and then reaches for the waistband of his pants. JC raises his hips and Lance slides the pants over the curve of his butt and off the table. "It's time for dessert, Josh." 

"What did you have in mind, Lance?"

"Something sweet. And creamy."

"Sounds good. Wanna be more specific?"

"Well, um, it's something I can really get my tongue around."

"I thought you wanted something you could sink your teeth into."

"Oh believe me, I will." Lance retrieves the neglected bowl of whipped cream that JC had earlier placed on the counter. He brings it over to JC's right hand and dips his fingers in the bowl. He puts the bowl on the table and brings JC's hand up to his own lips. He touches his tongue to the tip of one finger and slides it in his mouth, licking and sucking the delicious cream. He does the same to the next finger, and the next, and by the time he's done his own erection has become painfully hard. 

JC reaches for Lance with his left hand, but lets it drop when he can't reach, and he contents himself with whispering his name over and over. He wants Lance so badly now he can taste it--he smiles at the appropriateness of the thought given the circumstances. 

Lance leans down and presses his lips against JC's, and soon the kiss turns to one of passion. Lance carefully climbs onto the table and straddles the strong, lean body below him. Reaching down, he starts to slide JC's boxers down over his hips and breaks their kiss only to remove them completely. Lance is panting now, and he's not sure how much longer he's going to be able to play this game. 

When Lance finally moves close enough to touch, JC pulls him even closer. He immediately starts tugging on Lance's t-shirt and manages to pull it off him as Lance moves away from him to remove JC's own boxers. 

Lance chuckles at JC's burst of aggression, but he's glad to be rid his now sweat-stained shirt. He places his palms on JC's chest and pushes him back. "Down, boy. I'm not done yet." He scavenges around for a spoon, and after finding one, dips it into the bowl of cream. He spoons out a generous dollop onto JC's stiff cock and puts the bowl back on the counter. 

The feeling of the cool cream on his hot erection is just indescribable--almost enough to make him come all by itself. JC takes deep breaths and slowly exhales them, marshaling control. 

Lance can tell JC is on the verge of coming, so he acts quickly. Parting JC's knees, he bends down and places his hands on either side of JC's hips. His tongue snakes out and licks the tip of JC's throbbing erection, taking in the soft cream. Slowly, he licks his way down the shaft, bringing one hand up to gently cup his balls. Soon, his whole mouth engulfs JC's member, the combined taste of the cream and JC's own musky flavor arousing Lance to the point where his own pants have become painfully tight. 

If JC thought the whipped cream felt good, the feeling that follows it--of his lover's lips and tongue caressing him, is amazing. Unable to stand it any longer, he rips the blindfold off and props himself up to watch Lance. It's the most erotic sight in the world, he thinks, that beautiful spiky blond head, moving over his aching hardness.

Lance raises his eyes to JC's. He feels the heat rising in his cheeks as well as in his groin as he watches the look of concentration on his lover's face. 

JC's fingers become entwined in Lance's hair as he moves his lips up and down the long shaft. Having those beautiful eyes meet his is enough to send JC over the edge. He cries out Lance's name as he comes, his hands still caressing his lover's hair. 

Lance studies JC's face as he comes. The warm, salty taste of JC combines with the cream in Lance's mouth, and he swallows, feeling the exhilaration of having just pleased the man he loves. He releases JC's softening penis, and licks the last traces of cream from the surface, then rises to meet his lover's gaze. He licks his lips and smiles. 

"So, how was dessert?" JC doesn't wait for an answer, but pulls Lance to him, kissing him devouringly and immediately sliding his hand down to envelop Lance's aching erection. 

Before Lance can react, he feels JC's warm hand caressing his erection through his pants. He groans against JC's lips and places a hand at the back of his neck. He pulls away and whispers, "It was delicious." 

As he fumbles with the button and zipper of Lance's pants, JC murmurs, "So you'd recommend that I try it?" 

Lance closes his eyes. "Yes. Please."

It's all JC needs to hear. All the desire he has been holding back in deference to Lance's food/control game surges. He rolls, Lance in his arms, so Lance is beneath him, and plunges his tongue into his lover's waiting mouth. As they kiss, tongues entwined, JC pulls Lance's tight pants and boxer briefs down around his thighs, and his hand closes around Lance's throbbing erection. His hand finds a rhythm that pleases Lance, if the little sounds forming in his throat are any indication. And JC knows they are. 

Lance thrusts into JC's hand and moans of delight surge from his throat. JC's turn from submissive to aggressive turns Lance on more than he imagined it would, and it takes all he has to control himself. JC separates himself from Lance long enough to get off the rest of Lance's clothing, then crawls back up beside him again. He claims Lance's mouth again, as his hands move over Lance, caressing his chest and stomach until Lance whispers "Josh, please." 

JC dips a hand into the bowl of cream and then grasps Lance's hot hardness again, rubbing the cream over the smooth surfaces. Now Lance knows what JC experienced when the table, so to speak, was turned. "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh," he moans as the cool cream is spread over his erection. He grips JC's shoulders, needing some place to put his hands. 

JC pulls back and looks into Lance's flushed face. He just has to kiss those lips one more time, then he moves down to give his attention to Lance's throat and neck. He hand is still caressing Lance's erection and he can feel Lance's heartbeat racing when he presses his mouth to the pulse point on his throat. When he moves down further to capture a hard little nipple, he's rewarded by a growl of pleasure from his lover. 

Lance cradles JC's head and runs his fingers through the thick, dark locks. He continues thrusting into JC's hand, and he starts to squirm against the hard surface of the table. "Josh," he rasps. 

JC knows what Lance is asking for, and knows he's made him wait long enough. He slides down farther on the table and, as his hand continues to caress Lance's erection, he looks up at his lover, catching his eyes and holding them. He begins to reach for the bowl, but changes his mind. "Some things are so delicious they don't need anything else," he murmurs, taking Lance's hot member into his mouth. 

"OH!" Lance cries out, as JC's warm mouth surrounds his pulsing erection. He throws his head back and thrusts into JC's mouth, matching his rhythm with JC's. He feels himself slide toward the edge of the table, but JC's hands on his knees hold him in place. "Oh my gosh, JC!" he cries again, and before he knows it his orgasm rips through him. 

JC holds Lance firmly on the table as he comes. He doesn't release his grip or remove his mouth until Lance is completely still. Then he lifts his head and smiles up at his lover. JC crawls back up the table to kiss Lance tenderly, wrapping him in his arms. 

Lance is still panting as he slumps against his friend. He rests his head against JC's shoulder and sighs. His eyes flutter open. "What a mess," he exclaims. "You know, that's the thing about cooking I never liked--the cleaning up part." 

"Well, this time you don't have to worry about that." JC snaps his fingers and the kitchen is again clean. As are they. And there are even fresh clothes, folded neatly on the counter.

"JC Chasez, I don't know how you do that, but I don't ever want you to stop." 

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