Learn Me
by Karen and LB
© 2002
"Josh, what the heck is all that stuff?"
"We need a hobby, Lance. Something we can do together besides music and sex. This, babe, is everything we need to become master decoupagers. I've been thinking about it ever since Rosie O'Donnell mentioned it. Well, since I looked it up and figured out what the heck it was."
"Well, explain it to me then. Man, couldn't we just build model boats or something? And I really don't see what's wrong with music and sex."
"Model boats? I don't think so. Besides, I'm really hoping we're gonna get good at this, then we're gonna make stuff to sell for Challenge for the Children. We couldn't to THAT with model boats."
Lance ponders that for a few seconds. "Okay, you win. Since it's for the charity and all. But JC, remember those turkeys we had to do? This isn't exactly where our strengths lie. Neither of us did very well in home-ec. Heck, you didn't even take home-ec."
"Yeah, but this involves manly stuff, like shellac. We can do shellac. Don't you just feel your Y chromosome sit up and take notice? Shellac. VARNISH."
"JC, have you been watching This Old House again? 'Cause you're starting to scare me. Or maybe you've been sniffing this shellac stuff."
"Oh, no! You've discovered my secret crush on Bob Vila."
"I knew it! I knew I wasn't man enough for you. He has a tool belt and everything."
"Hey, I had to have something to occupy me while you were off woo-hooing Emeril's essence."
"He offered me a free meal. How could I pass that up?"
"I'm not begrudging you. I just have my needs, too."
"You need something banged, you should call me."
"Don't I always?"
"You obviously called Bob for something. Anyway, what are we supposed to do with this stuff? Did Rosie tell you anything?"
"Nope. But I bought this off Amazon.com."
"I hope it's returnable. Does it at least come with instructions?"
"The whole book is instructions, dude. Look, if you don't wanna do this with me, you don't have to."
"No, of course I want to do it. It'll be fun. I think. So, where do we start?"
"Well, we need to cut stuff out, and we need to decide what we're gonna stick the stuff on. I've got this whole pile of teenie mags--Justin tosses them after he takes all the pictures of himself out."
"Figures. Well, he can make his own decoupage then. I like that word-- DECOUPAGE--it sounds so French."
"Um, Lance? It IS French."
"Oh. I knew that. I did! Really! Stop giving me that look and toss me one of those magazines."
"You're so cute when you're flustered."
"I am not flustered, Martha Stewart."
"Shut up, um, um, um Betty Crocker."
"Nice comeback, Martha. Isn't Betty Crocker dead or something?"
"She's fictional. She can't be dead."
"Oh. I knew that. Hey, so what are we supposed to do with this stuff?"
"We, um, cut stuff out and stick it to stuff."
"Okay, I'll cut, you stick. The stuff, I mean."
"I knew that was what you meant."
Lance swats JC with a rolled up Tiger Beat. "Just shut up and give me the scissors."
"Oh, darn, I forgot to get the round-tip kind."
"Ha ha. You're asking for it. You could be doing this by yourself, you know."
"Where would be the fun in that?"
"Then play nicely. Or I'm taking my toys and going home."
"You are home."
"Oh yeah. Well, I'll take them and go to Justin's house."
"You think you'd have more fun with JUSTIN?"
"He wouldn't tease me with safety scissors."
"You got some bad kindergarten memory you want to tell me about?"
"The only bad memory I'm going to have is this disastrous decoupage outing."
"I keep telling you--you don't have to do it if you don't want to."
"I'll do it. You just have to show me how."
"Okay, Choose a picture you want to work with, and we'll put it on this box."
Lance flips through the magazine, finally settling on a group shot that Justin hadn't gotten his hands on. "Here, this one." He carefully clips the picture , following the silhouettes of each member perfectly. JC watches, forgetting that he's supposed to be preparing the box. He's always loved watching Lance's hands, his careful, precise movements.
"Oooo, here's another one. I always liked this shot of you," Lance remarks, clipping a full-body photo of JC.
"Hey, wait. If I let you do all the clipping, there'll be no pictures of you. Give me one of those magazines." JC searches for another pair of scissors and begins leafing through the journalistic accomplishment that is Bop.
"Aw, man, not that picture. I look like a big goofball in that picture." Lance starts arranging the pictures they've clipped so far on the box.
"Okay, although I disagree. You only look like a little goofball."
Lance bunches up some of the magazine scraps and tosses them at JC. "At least I didn't create an endangered species with my pants."
"Ooh! I'm gonna have to get you for that!" JC smacks Lance lightly on the head with a rolled up Tiger Beat.
"Ow! Watch the hair. Does your mama know you smack people with teenie mags?"
"There are a lot of things my mama doesn't know about me."
"What about me? Are there things I don't know about you?" Lance asks, while busily arranging the cutouts artfully on the lid of the box.
"I don't know, maybe. It's good to keep some mystery in a relationship, right?" JC leans over Lance's shoulder, admiring his arrangement. He's got a good eye, JC thinks. "But anything you want to know, you just ask."
"I just want to know the things your mama don't know. You know, the good stuff." He turns his head and winks at JC. "Okay, I think we're ready to glue these puppies down. Where's the glue gun?"
"I plugged it in over there."
Lance excitedly springs over to where JC had the gun warming up. "This is a job for a real man. Step aside," Lance announces, as he strips off his shirt, revealing a tight wife-beater underneath.
JC tries not to stare too slack-jawedly. He usually sees Lance fully dressed or completely naked, and he's almost forgotten just how alluring just a little coverage can be. Especially since Lance has been working out and his arms look amazing, highlighted by the lines of the shirt. In fact, JC reflects, looking at Lance through different, suddenly more observant eyes, Lance is looking utterly manly these days, not like the boy JC fell in love with. Better.
Lance is busy figuring out how to use the glue gun when he feels JC's eyes on him. He raises the gun, Schwarzeneger-style and says, deepening his voice. "Stay where you are and take off your clothes." Then he laughs, his little-boy giggle, and fumbles with the gun. "Ow! This thing is hot."
Scratch the "not a boy anymore" thoughts. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Lance growls, bringing his fingers to his mouth. "Why didn't Rosie warn us about the dangers of glue guns?"
"She abandoned us to the wilds of decoupage."
"This is really new territory for us, Josh. This could bring us to a whole new level." Lance is now attempting to aim the glue gun at an unsuspecting Tiger Beat cutout.
"Gee, Lance. I'm so glad we're doing this together," JC says with a grin.
"I COULD use a hand here, Josh."
"What do you want me to do?"
"Hold this picture while I get the glue on it."
"Okay. OW! That stuff IS hot."
"Sorry. Yeah, I don't know how Martha does it. Watch your hands." Lance concentrates as a stream of glue oozes out and drips down the side of the box. "Ooops, this thing isn't as easy as it looks. Damn," he remarks, as one of the cutouts gets stuck to his pants.
"Here, I'll get it. You've got glue on your hands." JC bends to reach for the offending paper, taking his sweet time about peeling it from Lance's thigh.
While watching JC try to extract the offending paper, Lance inadvertently knocks over a couple of glue-covered pictures, and they land on JC's shoulder. "Oh my goodness, I'm sorry, Josh," Lance says, trying to peel them off as carefully as he can.
"This is harder than it looks." JC mutters, still busy with Lance's jeans. "Um, um, the craft stuff, I mean."
"Yeah, I'll bet that's what you meant." Lance turns slightly, but that just gets them more tangled in the sticky paper, glue gun mess. "JC, take off your shirt. You've got Justin stuck to your chest."
"Justin missed a picture of himself? He'll be so bummed." JC manages to peel his shirt off, tossing it to one side.
"We won't tell him. Although, we'd really sell more of these things if we had more Justin pictures. Of course, we won't sell any of these if we don't actually get the pictures on the boxes." Lance puts down the glue gun but his arm brushes against JC, causing a picture of Chris to land smack in the middle of his now bare chest. "Shit, let me get that off you. If there's gonna be any picture stuck to you it's gonna be me." There's a moment of silence, and the two boys burst out laughing.
"Every little thing I glue, never sticks enough to you . . . "
"I don't want to glue you again . . . "
"And unglue you then . . . "
Tears are practically streaming from Lance's eyes, he's laughing so hard. He doubles over, trying to balance himself against the table holding the box, the glue gun, and the pictures, but ends up stumbling and knocking everything over, sending all the supplies to the floor, including the can of shellac, which spills on both JC and Lance. Lance ends up on his butt, laughing even harder now.
"I guess we better keep our day jobs."
"Martha Stewart will probably sue us. And Rosie will NEVER have us back on the show if she finds out." Lance is trying desperately to get his breathing back to normal.
"It's all her fault anyway. She didn't learn us. Geez, Lance, you're covered in this stuff. You'd better get out of your clothes before it starts to dry on your skin and your jeans are permanently attached."
"Uh oh, I think you're right." He peels off his shirt, kicks off his sneakers, and tries to lower his pants. But they're stuck. "Uh, Josh, I, uh, think I need a hand."
"Okay, what can I do? Oh, I know. Here." JC slides one hand inside one leg the tight jeans, carefully separating the fabric from the skin until he can ease that leg down a bit. Then he does the same on the other leg and alternates until he has the pants around Lance's ankles. Lance's eyes grow wide when he feels JC's hand against his skin. He tries to hide the twitching in his shorts; he never intended this little arts and crafts session to become anything more than an afternoon's activity.
"There. You're free. But I fully expect you to thank me in an acceptance speech someday: "And I want to thank the love of my life, JC Chasez, who rescued me from my pants."
Lance falls back on the floor, laughing once again. "I accept this award on behalf of my pants." Lance is now writhing, but realizes he's still trapped with his pants wrapped around his ankles. He kicks furiously, still laughing and sliding around on the shellac-covered floor.
"You realize your shorts and you are about to become a permanent part of the flooring, right?"
"My cleaning lady will have a field day with this." Lance finally manages to sit up. He reaches up to JC, who's leaning over him. "You still have Chris on your chest." With one swift move, he rips the picture off JC's skin.
"Lance. Hair. Glue. Ouch."
"Oh, shit, I'm sorry, Josh! Man, I don't know how girls do this stuff to their legs. Come here."
"Girls are masochists or something." JC sits next to Lance. Lance rubs JC's chest, trying to lessen any discomfort he's caused. He can see the red steaks left by the picture; reaching for his shirt, he wipes away the glue residue.
"I really think you're gonna have to kiss it make it better."
"It does look kind of sore." Lance presses his lips against the injured flesh, gently kissing and licking the marked area.
"Mmm. That feels better."
"Good, because I don't want to leave any Chris residue on you."
"What kind of residue would you like to leave on me?"
Lance blushes and looks away. When JC gets suggestive like this, it not only arouses Lance but it throws him off balance. Sure, he's not so innocent anymore, but it still catches him by surprise when JC says things like this.
"What do you think?"
Only Lance could sit in the middle of this mess clad in only his shorts and blush. JC picks a scrap of paper that's settled in Lance's hair off and grins at him. "I guess we should clean this up. Or clean us up. Do you have a lot of that stuff on your skin? Do I need to dip you in turpentine?"
"I guess the instruction book doesn't tell you what to do if disaster strikes." Lance looks down at himself, assessing the situation. His pants are hanging off one foot, scraps of paper are stuck to his arms, and despite the fact that this is supposed to be an innocent activity, there's a bulge forming in his shorts. The fact that JC is kneeling next to him, shirtless, doesn't help.
JC notices everything, but decides not to take advantage of the situation. Yet. "Um, you should take a shower. I'll start cleaning up this mess. It's all my fault anyway."
Lance puts a hand on JC's shoulder. "You were just trying to do something good. And hey, I think some of this stuff is salvageable. I think we should sit down with the book and try to figure it out first." He starts to push himself to his feet but slips on some shellac and ends up on his butt again, laughing. "You wanna give me a hand?"
JC gets up and offers Lance his hand. Lance takes it and JC pulls him up and releases him. Or tries. Since their hands are stuck together. "Uh, Lance?"
Lance tugs at the hand. "Oh shit. Shit, this stuff is strong. What the heck are we gonna do now?"
"I brought some paint thinner. It was in the green box. Do you see it?"
"Yeah, but it's over there. Walk with me."
JC grins. "Do I have a choice? You know, Lance, when I said that I sometimes feel like we're one person, this is NOT what I had in mind."
"Yeah, well, when I said I was stuck on you I didn't mean it literally." They've managed to make their way over to the shelf containing the paint thinner, and Lance tries unsuccessfully to untwist the top, one-handed. Placing the jar on the counter, he instructs, "Here, you hold, I twist."
"Got it. You know, this is gonna make a great story someday." Together they manage to open the jar and carefully drip some paint thinner onto their attached hands.
"Are you kidding--if the guys ever find out they'll never let us live it down." The thinner works its magic, and soon the glue is dissolved and the boys are free. But Lance continues to hold JC's hand. "I'm not sure I want to let you go just yet."
"I was thinking more of something to tell our grandchildren."
Lance laughs sarcastically, stunned. "Yeah, all sixteen of them."
"Sixteen? We're gonna have to bake a lot of cookies."
"You bake. I'll tell the stories."
"You got a deal. I hope I can bake better than I decoupage. "
"That won't be too difficult, considering how far we got with the decoupage" Lance surveys the workroom, papers strewn everywhere, shellac in pools on the floor, paint thinner fumes starting to make him lightheaded.
"Go shower, babe. I'll at least get the worst of this cleaned up."
"Let me help you. I leave you alone with this, who knows what will happen?"
"No, I can handle clean up. And you look a little . . . off ."
"I'm fine, really." Lance takes a step forward but the dizziness overtakes him and he puts his hand back on the counter. "Okay, maybe I will go shower. Just don't take too long, okay?" Lance runs a hand across JC's bare chest as he walks past.
JC watches Lance leave the room, then opens the windows to help clear the fumes. He salvages what supplies are worth saving, and manages to get the worst of the shellac off the floor. By the time he hears the water shut off, the room looks reasonably presentable and the air is more or less breathable.
Lance enjoys the warm shower, especially the part where he gets the glue and shellac and whatever other potentially carcinogenic chemicals he's come into contact with off his skin. He feels bad about leaving JC to clean up the mess, but he seemed so insistent. Lance takes his time, expecting JC to join him at any moment. When Lance is through rinsing himself off and JC still hasn't come upstairs, he shuts the water off, disappointed, and wraps a towel around himself. He throws on some clean jeans and a t-shirt and heads back downstairs.
JC is just finishing up when he hears Lance's step. "Hey," he says, straightening up. "I'm going to clean up, okay? I didn't get it as bad as you, but . . . ," he gestures at his splashed jeans.
Lance leans against the door frame. "Want some help?"
"You just got out." JC takes Lance's hand and they walk up to the bedroom. I've got a better idea. Why don't you take off those clothes and wait for me." He pushes Lance toward the bed. "Right there."
Lance falls back when his knees hit the mattress. "Whatever you say. Wait, one second." He pushes himself up and kisses JC, hard. "Just a little something to make you hurry up."
"Like I needed it, knowing you're here waiting." JC takes the quickest shower he can. Disdaining his splashed, messy clothes, he simply wraps a towel around his waist before stepping back into the bedroom. Where he sees a most beautiful, inspiring sight: Lance, naked as JC had suggested, pouring over, absorbed in, oblivious to the world because of, the decoupage book.
Glancing up when he finally senses someone watching him, Lance, embarrassed, stammers, "I, um, thought I'd at least see where we went wrong."
"Could you possibly be any cuter?"
"Shut up. Here I am trying to research the fundamentals of decoupage and you're gettin' all saucy on me."
"You're sitting there naked and concentrating and I'm NOT supposed to get <snicker> saucy?"
"Keep that up, and I'll make you leave the room so I can finish this chapter." Lance's eyes are on the book, and he's trying his best not to ogle JC in his towel.
JC sits down next to Lance, kissing his shoulder before peering at the book. "Have you figured out how we screwed up?"
"Yeah, we listened to Rosie."
"She owes us."
"You were the one who was all 'learn me'."
"Yeah, but did she? Noooo!"
"We'll have to pay her a visit. We could bring her all the pictures and the box and tell HER to make it for us."
"Let's go right now. While you're naked."
"That would go over real well on a family show."
"It would do wonders for her ratings."
"I doubt my nakedness would boost her ratings. I'd scare away the viewers."
"No way, beautiful."
"Way. Besides, you remember how cold it was in that studio. I'd catch pneumonia or something."
"We can't have that. I'll just have to keep you here. So, are you done with that chapter yet? Huh? Lance?"
Lance peers sideways, out of the corner of his eye, then returns his attention to the book. "A few more pages. Why?"
"I dunno, just bored I guess. You just finish." JC lies back on the bed and removes his towel, tossing it to one side. "I'll just, um, lie here."
"Okay." Lance draws his knees even higher than they were, attempting to cover the twitching in his groin. He licks his lips as he pretends to study the page.
"C'mon Lance. Come play with me. I'm booooooored."
"Shhhhh, you're breaking my concentration."
JC runs one finger slowly along the side of Lance's thigh.
There's a small intake of breath; Lance bites his lip, shakes his head, and continues reading.
JC sits up again, leaning his chin on Lance's shoulder and pretending fascination with the page in front of him. All the while snaking his arm down around Lance.
Lance struggles to keep his attention focused; JC's hand sends shivers up his spine and he knows he can't hide his arousal much longer. He grips the book tightly; he's read the same sentence five times and still doesn't remember a word of it.
JC runs his tongue over Lance's ear, following the shape, breathing into it.
"Oh heck." The book flies from Lance's hands, landing face down on the floor; Lance swings JC into his arms and kisses him passionately.
JC smiles into the kiss, very happy to have finally distracted Lance from his reading.
Lance pulls JC into his lap. "Now you know why I never let you come over when I have Free Lance business to deal with."
"If you had Free Lance business to work on, I'd leave you alone. I know what's important and what's . . . decoupage ."
"Oooo, say that again. I love it when you speak French."
"De . . . coup . . . aaaaaaaaagggggge. "
"Oh, baby, you're turning me on." Lance presses his lips against JC's, lowering him to the mattress.
JC is certainly not going to object. He wraps his arms around Lance, pulling Lance firmly on top of him.
Lance shifts to make them both more comfortable. "So, are there any other French activities I should know about?"
Oh, I think you're already expert at all the French activities that matter."
"Expert? Oooo, flattery will get you everywhere." He dips his head for another kiss, this time letting his hands wander JC's body.
"Mmm. Learn me, baby."
"There's a lot to learn," Lance says slyly, sliding his hand down to cup JC's stiffening member.
"No one I'd rather have as a teacher."
"Good, 'cause class is now in session."
"Do I have to call you Mr. Bass?"
"Heck no--that's my dad."
"Okay, what's my first lesson?"
Lance studies JC's face carefully, the same way he studied the pages of the book. "This," he says seriously, leaning in and pressing his lips to JC's, keeping his mouth closed at first, then parting his lips and covering JC's whole mouth.
JC lifts his head to meet Lance's mouth, flicking his tongue out lightly.
"That's lesson number 2." He takes JC's tongue in his mouth, then releases it. "You know," he murmurs, "this is a heck of a lot more fun than decoupage. Maybe we should do this for charity. People can sponsor us every time we screw."
"Mmmm. You're such a romantic." JC pushes his tongue between Lance's lips again, licking at the upper lip again and again.
"You want romantic, I'll show you romantic." Lance captures the tongue with his lips, drawing it in until his mouth is covering JC's and his own tongue is entangled with JC's.
JC lets his head sink back into the pillow, drawing Lance with him. His hands stroke up and down Lance's back from his shoulders to his ass, squeezing Lance's firm butt a little tighter each time.
In response, Lance grinds his hips against JC, rubbing their erections together. The friction arouses him even more, so Lance's hands travel to JC's chest, exploring every inch of skin as though for the first time.
When they break their kiss, JC murmurs "How'm I doing, Teach?" His hands continue their persistent travel over Lance's smooth skin.
"You'll pass, if you keep it up." To emphasize, Lance thrusts his hips gently. "But if you slack off, I'll have to put you in detention." His hand slides down JC's chest, between their bodies, and wraps around JC's long, hard member.
JC grins. "So what lesson am I on?"
"I've lost track. But I think we're moving on to anatomy now."
"I'm good at anatomy." JC nuzzles his head into Lance's neck, kissing and licking at that sensitive anatomy.
"Yeah, I can, um, see that. But I think you're gonna have to pass this pop quiz first." Lance raises himself a few inches and begins to stroke the length of JC's shaft.
"Quiz?" JC manages, finding it difficult to keep joking while Lance is giving him these AMAZING sensations.
"Yeah," Lance purrs while continuing to stroke. "So far, you're doing fine."
JC reaches for Lance's hot erection. "Like this?"
Lance shuts his eyes and moans softly, "Yeah, exactly like that." He begins to place warm, wet kisses on JC's neck.
JC imitates the movements of Lance's hand precisely, good student that he is. He stretches his neck to allow Lance better access, sighing happily.
Lance sucks gently, nipping lightly, and moves down to JC's shoulder, leaving a wet trail with his tongue. Soon, he's at JC's chest and out of reach of JC's hand, but he doesn't care. He loves the way JC smells, fresh out of the shower, and this arouses him almost as much as any touch can. His tongue traces the curves of his chest muscles until it finds one small, round nipple. He licks it and teases the hard bud, and then moves on to the other, all the while stroking JC's erection firmly.
JC cradles Lance's head to his chest, his hand in the softness of Lance's hair. There's only one thing he really wants Lance to teach him, and that's how he makes their lovemaking feel new and exciting every single time.
Lance kisses his way down JC's chest, lingering on his tight abs, until he reaches the swell of JC's throbbing erection. He kisses the soft hairs around it, bringing his tongue to the base of the shaft and licking in one long stroke up its length.
"Laaaannnnncccce." It's a cry, a moan, a sigh, a whisper.
"You want me to stop?" Lance asks, as he flicks his tongue at the moistened tip.
"How will I ever learn if you stop?"
"Sometimes the best way to learn is by doing. Like this." Lance swirls his tongue around the tip and then engulfs it in his mouth.
"Mmmmm. That feels so . . . instructive."
Lance lifts his head, saying, "Then you'll like the extra credit." He dips down once again, taking in the entire length of JC's erection as far as it will go into his mouth. He begins drawing it in and out in a slow, enticing rhythm.
JC struggles against the urge to thrust, then gives in to it, following the movements of Lance's mouth, his hands once again in Lance's hair, steadying his head.
Lance reaches for JC's hands, clasping them at his sides so that the only thing he can do is thrust his hips. JC thrusts again and again, knowing he's very close. He lifts his head to look down and the sight of Lance moving over him is enough to send him over. He's coming and coming, practically screaming Lance's name.
The warmth spreads through his body even as JC's hot fluid shoots into his mouth. Lance holds JC steady until the spasms pass, then he carefully releases JC's softening member, squeezing his hands gently. He pushes himself up so that he's laying next to his lover, and he gently caresses JC's face. "Looks like you learned your lesson."
"Only because I have this amazing teacher." JC pulls Lance in for a kiss, tasting himself on Lance's tongue, himself mixed with Lance's own sweetness. "Do I get any homework?"
"Yeah. But it could be an all-nighter." Lance rolls on top of JC once again, kissing JC deeply, passionately.
"Yeah, I'm up for it. Or I will be."
"It's okay," Lance pants, "there's no time limit on this assignment." Lance rolls off JC and stretches an arm around him, pulling him close so he can rest his head on Lance's shoulder.
"Hey, I didn't mean . . . " JC lets his hand drift down to Lance's hot erection. "I want you."
Lance kisses JC's hair, breathing in the intoxicating scent of his shampoo. "I know, and I want you too. Very much. I just don't want you to feel like . . . you always owe me something, you know?"
"I know. And I don't. I just want you."
"You do? Because I guess you can tell I want you."
JC grins. "Yeah, I kind of got that impression."
Lance gazes down at his prominent erection. "It's sort of embarrassing laying here with this big hard-on."
"Then stop lying there and do something with it."
"If you insist." Lance rolls on top of JC, kissing his neck and clasping JC's hands in his own.
"Oh, I insist, okay."
Lance presses JC's hands into the mattress as he covers JC's mouth with his own. His hips grind into JC's and he can feel the older man's arousal at the contact. JC, effectively pinned, can only respond with his mouth, and respond he does, plunging his tongue up into Lance's hot mouth.
Nudging JC's legs apart, Lance settles between them. "So, let's see if you learned anything."
"With you as teacher?"
Lance pulls back. "So are you saying I'm a bad teacher?"
"The opposite. How could I NOT learn with you as teacher."
"Then it's time for your pop quiz." Lance dips his head and plants soft kisses on JC's chest, capturing one tight, hard nipple in his mouth and teasing the other with his fingers.
"Something's popping," JC mutters and he strokes his now freed hand down Lance's spine and over his ass.
"You keep that up and you'll definitely pass."
"OH, I think I need tutoring. Lots of tutoring."
"Then let's start right here." Lance gropes between their bodies for JC's slowly forming erection. He grips it in his fist and begins stroking it to hardness.
JC's eyelids flutter down, his long lashes lying against his cheeks. "Mmmm. Amazing what you can do with the right teacher."
"Now this is the kind of hobby I can get into." His hand travels lower, and as if to emphasize his point, his fingers tease JC's tight opening.
"There's a tidbit for the next Bop interview."
"I'm not sharing this tidbit with anyone." The finger continues to tease, touching lightly, not penetrating, as his other hand continues to stroke the hard member.
JC moans. "Please, Lance."
"Hang on. This hobby has a few . . . supplies." Without removing his hand from around JC's erection, Lance fumbles for the nightstand drawer, where he extracts a tube of lubricant. Spreading it around his palm and onto his fingers, he slicks a little more onto his prominent erection, taking the time to spread it evenly, surely. Finally, he stretches out again, bringing his face close to JC's. "Ready to get creative?"
"Learn me."
Lance sits up, pulling JC with him. He moves his legs under his lover and bends his knees, so that JC is leaning against his legs. Positioning himself below JC's ass, Lance presses into his lover, slowly, gently.
JC sighs as he feels himself being filled. He pushes down, taking Lance into himself more deeply, more completely.
Supporting himself on one arm, Lance places his other hand on JC's hip. He tilts his head back and groans as he presses further into JC.
JC stares fascinated at the curve of Lance's throat, the pulse visibly pounding there. Lance is lost in the sensations: JC's weight on his hips, the slow rocking motion of their joined bodies, his own heartbeat. Quiet moans escape his lips and he grips JC tighter, pulling him down further.
JC smiles as he moves against Lance. "Anyone ever tell you you're a genius at this teaching thing?"
"I guess it's in my blood."
"I think YOU'RE in my blood."
"I will be soon," Lance grunts, squeezing his eyes shut against the tightness surrounding his heated member. Has JC ever felt this delicious? Each time with his lover seems like a whole new experience.
JC begins moving more quickly over his lover, lifting himself almost completely off Lance before plunging down again.
With Lance in this position, there isn't much he can do except let JC take control. He moans each time JC lifts up and feels a wave of pleasure crash over him every time he lowers himself. And the next time JC does, Lance explodes inside him. His back arches and he falls back against the mattress, crying out and gripping JC's hips with both hands.
JC waits until Lance stops spasming, then lifts himself off and collapses next to Lance, dropping his head onto Lance's chest to listen to his heart slowing to normal. Lance keeps his eyes closed and strokes JC's hair. "You are amazing, JC. You know that?"
"If I am it's because of you."
"Me? What'd I do?"
"Just being you is enough."
"You're crazy, you know that? But I love you anyway. And Josh?"
JC snuggles more securely against his lover's chest. "Yeah?"
"Let's not share THIS hobby with Rosie."