Doodling
by Karen and LB
© 2003
Lance lies on his side, listening to the quiet breaths puffing from the mouth of the sleeping man next to him. He stares at the face in front of him, knowing JC will stay that way for hours, no matter how long he stares. He likes to watch JC sleep, likes to see the soft glow emanating from his face when he's deep asleep, away from the stress of touring, in his own private, special place. The blanket is around JC's hips, but Lance doesn't feel like adjusting it. He likes looking at JC's body, especially when JC doesn't know he's watching. He can study the muscle tone, the occasional freckle like a landmark on the curving slope of his shoulders.
A pen on the nightstand catches Lance's eye, and he reaches over JC to retrieve it. JC's body is completely unmarked by piercings and tattoos, and although they'd discussed it, JC would never agree to any sort of body art other than the occasional temporary tattoo. But now, with JC fast asleep, Lance finds himself uncapping the pen and drawing a curved line on JC's shoulder.
JC, deeply asleep, twitches a little at the touch, then settles again.
Smiling, Lance continues drawing, the pen gliding easily over JC's smooth skin.
JC brushes at the pen like he would at an annoying mosquito, not wanting to awaken, but feeling the pull of consciousness.
Lance giggles and covers his mouth, then brings the pen back to JC's shoulder.
This time when JC swipes at his shoulder, he catches Lance's hand. He opens one eye, squinting up at Lance. "What do you think you're doing?"
Lance assumes his most innocent expression when he replies, "Nothing."
JC touches his shoulder again, then cranes his neck to look at it. "Lance!"
"It's not permanent!"
"It better not be."
Lance stares at the elaborate heart he'd drawn. "You don't like it?"
JC peers down at the design. "I like it, I guess. But why?"
Lance shrugs. "You don't have a tattoo. I thought it would look sexy."
JC smiles, still sleepy. "Well, when you put it that way . . . "
"It does, you know."
"You're weird."
"Maybe a little." He continues to fill in the lines with half-lidded eyes.
"That tickles."
"Yeah?" Lance uses his other hand to poke JC's waist.
"You trying to start something?"
"Who, me?"
"Yeah. You."
"Maybe."
"If you can't make up your mind, I'm going back to sleep."
"No, you aren't."
"Yeah, I am," JC says, closing his eyes.
"No . . . you're . . . not," Lance orders, climbing on top of JC and shaking his shoulders.
JC makes exaggerated snoring sounds.
"Waaaaaaake . . . upppppp," Lance whines, shaking the rag-doll body.
JC's eyes pop open. "WHAT?" he yells, then ruins the effect by giggling.
"WAAAAAKE UPPPPPPPPPPP!" Lance yells, close to JC's head.
"What for?"
Lance loosens his grip and brings his lips to JC's ear. "This," he whispers, pressing his erection against JC's ass.
"Oh," JC purrs. "That's worth waking up for."
"You sure you don't want to go back to sleep?" Lance asks, grinding his hips against JC.
"Wide awake, babe."
"Good." Lance pushes aside JC's hair and kisses the back of his neck. "Because I don't think I can wait five hours for you to wake up again."
"And I don't dare sleep while you still have a pen in your possession."
"That's right. And I know how to use it."
"And that's not all you know how to use." Lance grins. "Want me to use it right now?"
"Yes. Please. Now."
"In a minute. First I want to kiss you right here." And Lance does just that, placing a hot, wet kiss in the crook of JC's neck.
"Good. More."
The pen flies across the room as Lance kisses JC's neck and shoulders with fierce abandon. His hands struggle to lower JC's pajama bottoms, but they soon succeed, and once JC is freed from his clothing Lance freely explores the smooth, muscular body.
JC writhes under Lance's talented hands. If such slow, almost graceful movements can be called writhing. He feels impossibly aroused, impossibly engorged.
Lance searches the nightstand for the tube of lube he's sure is there, and when his fingers close on it his lips curve into a smile even as they kiss another part of JC's body. He doesn't think about what he's doing; he just acts, devouring JC as though he were a most delectable feast.
"Need you," JC gasps between shallow breaths. He turns his head to look up at Lance, his eyes blank with lust. Lance uses the opportunity to capture JC's full, morning-stung lips. He combs the hair from JC's face as he plunges his tongue inside JC's hot mouth.
JC tries to roll onto his back, but Lance has him pinned, so he just gives into Lance completely, soft and pliant and throbbing with desire.
Lance's hands never stop moving, over JC's shoulders, down his arms, up his waist, down his back, and finally settling on the firm muscles of JC's ass. He kneads the tight mounds, then slides one hand in the crease that joins them, lightly fingering the crevasse.
JC moans and shifts, every sound and every movement an invitation.
Lance takes his time. It's this early morning lovemaking he likes best, before the rush of interviews, pictures, appearances, shows. Not the adrenalin-laden post-show lovemaking, exciting in and of itself, but this lazy, relaxed pleasure that can only be had before the day begins.
JC reaches back with one hand to touch Lance. "Aren't you wearing too much clothes?" he hums.
"Does it bother you?"
"I want to touch you, too."
Lance sits up and unbuttons his pajama top, and when it slides off his shoulders he rises and removes his pants, exposing his very full erection, then returns to the bed. "Better?"
JC grins, then licks his lips teasingly. "MUCH better."
Lance rolls onto his side again, his throbbing erection pressed against JC's leg. "I lost my place."
"You should have left a bookmark."
"You want a bookmark?" He rolls on top of JC, his erection now resting in the crack of JC's ass. "How's this?"
"That's a start, but, you know, a bookmark can fall out if it's not placed properly."
"It can? Oh my gosh, then I'd have to find my place all over again. We can't have that." He reaches for the lube again and pours a generous amount onto his heat, then raises JC's hips and wraps his arms around his lover. "You are so sexy when you're being all practical."
"Mmmm. Someone has to be."
"Mmmm, is right," Lance growls, as he pushes slowly inside.
"Thought you'd see it my way."
"I do, darlin'. I do." Lance begins to move in and out, slowly, leisurely, memorizing each sensation, savoring the tightness of JC's hot passage.
JC shifts again, opening himself more fully to Lance. He rocks his hips, meeting each thrust, reveling in the sensation.
Lance lowers them to the bed, pressing JC against the mattress with each deliberate thrust. His heavy breaths puff against JC's neck, and he pauses from time to time to place hungry kisses on JC's shoulders.
JC looks over his shoulder, his face a mask of passion. He reaches again to touch Lance, but his hands find no purchase, so he just lets Lance pleasure them both.
Lance's lips soon find the markings he'd made earlier, and they curve into a smile as he kisses his way around it.
"I get it," JC gasps. "You're trying to brand me."
"That's right. So everyone will know you're mine." He punctuates this statement by thrusting even deeper.
"Always yours," JC manages, before the deep, powerful thrusts bring him to his climax.
Lance thrusts, harder, faster, JC's climax bringing him closer and closer to his own, until he, too, finds his release.
JC, loving the sensation of Lance, sated, draped over him like the warmest blanket, listens to their heartbeats slowing to normal.
"Mmm, that was so good," Lance murmurs, breaking the silence.
"Definitely worth waking up for."
Lance kisses his artwork, damp with JC's sweat and already smeared. "Your tattoo's coming off."
"Does it bother you? That I won't get a real one?" Leaning his chin on JC's shoulder, Lance shakes his head. "Nah. I love that you're different. Everyone has a tattoo or a piercing. You don't have any of that stuff. You're completely unmarked."
"I'm marked. It's just not visible."
"Oh? Oh! Sorry. I didn't mean to soil your beautiful unmarked body."
"I like it that way."
"Soiled? You want to be all dirty?"
"I want to be marked. By you."
"Guess I don't need the pen anymore."
"You never did."
Lance finally raises his body enough to turn JC over. "That's right. You don't need any body art."
JC looks up at Lance and giggles. "Babe, you got ink on your face."
"I did?" He rubs his cheek and checks his hand. "Where?"
"Right here," JC touches a spot next to Lance's mouth, where the smudged ink had rubbed off when he'd kissed JC's shoulder.
"I guess you rub off on me."
JC groans and makes a face. "Bad, Lance. Bad."
Smiling sheepishly, Lance replies, "What are you gonna do about it?"
"This." JC grabs another pen from the nightstand, and, flipping them over, starts writing on Lance's chest.
Giggling, Lance writhes under JC's body. He has a feeling it's going to be a long morning. And that thought doesn't bother him a bit.