Performance Anxiety

by Karen and LB
© 2002

The sweat from his run makes Lance's shirt stick uncomfortably to his chest. All he wants right now is a shower. He has a few hours before he and the guys have to be at the studio to work on the new album and he thought maybe he and JC could squeeze in a little . . . quality time. "JC?" he calls out to the seemingly empty house. The only response he gets is an excited yelp from Jackson who scurries around his feet like he's had one too many Red Bulls. "Where's Uncle JC, boy? Huh? You all by yourself?" He snuggles the dog for a minute, then heads upstairs to the bedroom where he quickly strips off his clothes and gets the shower running. He leaves the door open in case the phone rings, but as he enters the warm spray his mind drifts off and he's aware of only the water beating down his back.

Soon, he closes his eyes and begins to drift off into thoughts as warm as the water. As he slides the soap down his arm, he imagines JC's fingers caressing his skin. By the time the lather touches his stomach he's already hard and lost in the fantasy.

JC pulls into the driveway and lets himself into the house. He smiles as he's greeted by Jackson. "Hey, that's not the tail I hoped to see wagging." He goes into the kitchen for his secret supply of doggie treats and tosses one to the excited puppy, then follows the sound of running water upstairs. A shower sounds good. A shower for two sounds better.

Lance leans against the cool tiles and lets his hand wander. He touches his chest the way JC does, he toys with his nipples the way JC's fingers do so deftly. And when he wraps his hand around his throbbing erection it's JC's hand his mind imagines.

JC's already got his shirt off when he reaches the bedroom, and he hops his way out of his jeans on his way to the bathroom. He slips through the door, ready to ask "want me to scrub your back?" but the words die on his lips.

Lance doesn't hear JC enter--the bathroom is large and the shower is away from the door, and he's so engrossed in what he's doing that he never even looks up. One hand is spread on the frosted shower door and the other is pumping his organ with the insistence he usually reserves for bedtime activities.

JC gets out of the bathroom and collects his clothes as quickly as possible, retreating to a guest room to dress. His mind is going a mile a minute. What does this mean? Is he not enough for Lance anymore? Is there something he's not doing? Or doing wrong?

Lance hums as he towels himself off until he's joined by Jackson, who seems eager to show him something. Thinking Jackson spilled something or knocked something over, Lance groans. "I shouldn't leave you alone so long, should I?" He follows the dog to the guest room and smiles, surprised to see JC. "Hey, you're home. What are you doing in here?"

"Um, waiting for you," JC says, flustered.

"In here?"

"Um, Jackson wandered in here. I was playing with him." Clad in only a towel, Lance flops down on the bed next to JC. "Wouldn't you rather play with me?"

"Sure. But you were, um, busy."

"I was in the shower. You could have joined me," Lance says with a leer.

JC blushes. "You were almost . . . done."

Lance leans in. "For you, I would have washed all over again."

"But you didn't need to . . . wash again."

"I'd get dirty again for you." Lance is beginning to sense that something's wrong, but he has no idea what that could be. JC seemed fine last night. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. What do you, um what do you wanna do today?"

"We have to be at the studio at noon, but I thought we could go get something to eat before then. Maybe hit the record store?"

"Yeah, that sounds good. Go get dressed."

Still puzzled by JC's odd behavior--it's not like him to miss the chance to flirt--Lance dresses quickly and scoops up Jackson. In the car, Lance tries to make small talk but senses that JC is far away. By the time they arrive at the studio, Lance is convinced JC is just focused on today's recording session.

JC keeps watching Lance, trying to figure out what's different. When things changed. When JC became not enough.

While JC is called to record some tracks, Lance grabs Joey. "Wanna shoot some pool?"

"Sure. It's good for my ego, beating the crap out of you."

"You wish. Dream on, cowboy."

In response, Joey pulls Lance into a headlock as they tussle out of the sound booth and head to the rec room. "So, what's up?" Joey asks.

"I'm gonna kick your ass in this game is what's up."

"Dude? It's me? You never ask to play pool unless something's bugging you."

Lance passes the cue from hand to hand. Sometimes, Joey can be more observant than he lets on. "It's nothing really. JC was acting kind of weird this morning."

"Weird how?"

Lance shrugs and leans over the table, positioning himself behind the cue ball. "I practically threw myself at him."

"And? Nothing?" Joey smiles reassuringly. "You know how he gets when we're in the studio."

"Yeah, I guess he has a lot on his mind, with the new songs and all. Maybe I should take him out to dinner."

"You should take me out to dinner. I'd actually eat."

"I couldn't afford you."

"And I thought I was a cheap date."

"Cheap? Joey, with what you put away at Taco Bell we're gonna have to sell a LOT of CDs."

"Yeah, but at least it's Taco Bell and not, you know, the kind of place JC likes."

"He's got good taste. You think I should take him someplace nice? I was thinking Chinese because he likes that, but maybe I should go all out."

"Maybe you should just, you know, talk to him."

"I tried this morning. He didn't seem like he wanted to talk."

"Maybe he wasn't ready."

"Maybe I'm smothering him. Maybe he needs space."

"The way he looks at you . . . I don't think so."

Lance concentrates on the table but inside he's smiling. Just the mere thought that JC feels half of what Lance feels for him is enough to make his body ache with desire. "You're hallucinating!"

"Dude, he thinks you're the best thing since sliced bread."

"Dude, you gonna play or stand there talking smack?"

The boys resume their game, playing and goofing around until they're called back in.

Lance flashes a smile at JC and tries to keep a positive demeanor the rest of the afternoon. As soon as he gets the chance, he'll ask JC out.

JC returns the smile then looks away. He decides right then that whatever Lance is not getting from him, he's gonna fix it.

When they're finally finished and the boys are packing up, Lance sneaks up behind JC and puts his head on JC's shoulder. "Can I buy you dinner?"

JC decides on a relaxed approach. "Depends. Where are you taking me?"

"Civilization?"

JC raises an eyebrow. "What's the occasion?"

"Do we need one? How about that we finished three songs?"

"Works for me. " JC considers that maybe he was reading too much into things this morning.

"So we'll go home for a quick shower first?"

Shower. "Um, yeah. Yeah."

Lance makes note of JC's hesitation. "I know today was rough. But tonight, we'll relax, have dinner, watch a movie, whatever you want."

"Yeah. That, um, that sounds like just what I need."

Lance resists the urge to hug and kiss JC, since they're in mixed company. So they leave, shower, and change quickly, and are soon seated at a quiet table in one of the area's best but casual restaurants.

Sitting here, looking at Lance's beautiful eyes, sipping a drink, JC can almost pretend that there's no problem. That he's not convinced that Lance is getting tired of him. As often happens when the conversation wanes, Lance's eyes wander the room. He and JC have been together long enough that they fall into this sort of comfortable silence, or so Lance thinks.

"Um, the new songs are going well, huh?"

"They're great. I love your new one. It's got a great hook."

"Oh, thanks. I had fun writing it." I wrote it about you.

"I don't know what inspires you, but whatever it is, keep doing it."

You, you, you, you, you. And I can't lose you. "Thanks." They're interrupted by the arrival of their appetizers, along with the wine JC ordered. They lapse into a silence that this time IS companionable as they begin to eat.

Halfway through the course, Lance looks at JC's plate. "Can I try one of your shrimp?"

"Yeah, of course. They're excellent." JC turns his plate so Lance can reach a plump, succulent shrimp easily.

Instead of using his fork, Lance lifts it off the plate with his fingers, bringing the sauce-covered morsel to his mouth and taking a sensual bite. He lets his fingers linger for a minute and moans, "Mmmmmm," before licking them slowly, with deliberation.

JC squirms in his chair, taking a sizable gulp of wine as well. Does Lance have any idea how sexy he is? What he's doing to JC? "Have more if you want."

"You sure? I could eat that whole plate." Lance takes one more between his fingers, then turns his eyes up to JC as he sucks the sauce off the shrimp before popping it in his mouth.

"As much as you want," JC says, refilling his glass.

"I better save my appetite for the main course."

JC shrugs and drinks more wine. "How's yours?" he asks, indicating Lance's plate.

"So good." Lance holds up his plate of calamari for JC.

JC reaches over with his fork to take some, then chews it slowly. "Wonderful."

The main courses arrive, and Lance is completely relaxed. Whatever was bothering JC this morning doesn't seem to be bothering him now, so Lance decides whatever it was couldn't have been too important. By the time dessert arrives, things seem to be back to normal.

JC, sipping brandy with his coffee and dessert, is happy and satiated and has put out of his mind any hint of trouble. "What do you say we skip the movie and move right on to 'whatever I want'?"

"Depends what you want," answers Lance, over the rim of his coffee cup.

"You. Always you."

"Let's go," Lance says, throwing his napkin on the table. JC stumbles slightly as he rises. "Glad you're driving," he says with a crooked grin.

Lance blushes as they exit the restaurant. "Having trouble walking?"

"Nah! I can walk. Just can't drive." By the time they pull into the driveway, Lance himself feels that familiar ache in his groin. He can't get the door open fast enough, and he's about to grab JC and pull him into a kiss when Jackson comes bounding down the hall and yelps gleefully at the sight of his owner. "Guess I should feed my dog first. Why don't you go on upstairs and get comfortable?"

"Aw, puppy!" JC scoops up Jackson and dances the puppy around.

Lance loves his dog, but right now he's killing the mood. Unless . . . JC is deliberately avoiding being alone with Lance. He heads to the kitchen, leaving JC to play with Jackson.

JC follows Lance to the kitchen, still baby-talking to the puppy. He watches as Lance scoops out dog food and puts Jackson gently on the floor when Lance puts the food dish down. "Now," he says, slipping both arms around Lance's waist as Lance straightens. "Where were we?"

Pleasantly surprised by JC's sudden attention, Lance brings his lips so they're barely touching JC's mouth. "I think we were . . . here." And then he closes the gap.

They taste the same--coffee and chocolate and wine. When JC finally breaks their kiss, it's to whisper "What was that about going upstairs and getting comfortable?"

"Um, let's go upstairs and get comfortable?"

"You have a way with words," JC says, pulling Lance toward the stairs. In the bedroom, Lance leaves off the main light and switches on a small lamp instead. In the dim glow, Lance studies JC's silhouette--tall, lean, the hair curled around his large ears. He takes JC's hands and leads him toward the bed.

"Do you know you're even cuter than Jackson?" JC purrs.

"No one is cuter than Jackson."

"You are," JC says, falling forward onto the bed, pushing Lance ahead of him.

"Shhhh, he might hear you."

"He knows," JC murmurs, nuzzling Lance's neck.

Lance sucks in a deep breath, already tingling from JC's proximity to his sensitive area. "He's the cutest dog in the world."

"Yeah, he is. But you're the cutest boy in the world."

No matter how many times they have sex, no matter how intimate they are, JC's flattery never ceases to catch Lance off guard. "You're the hottest."

Then why am I not enough for you? The thought comes, unbidden, and JC tries desperately to push it away. He kisses Lance's neck harder, more urgently.

Lance senses JC's need and after this morning he welcomes it. He tugs at JC's shirt, lifting it up and over his head, and then kisses him hungrily, his own desire apparent.

JC kisses back, trying to relax and let passion take over. Lance seems to want him now, right? And that's what matters, right?

A wave of relief washes over Lance as he slides his hand between JC's legs and massages the bulge forming there. "I want you, darlin'," he says softly.

The doubts keep pressing against JC's consciousness, barely held in check by alcohol and desire. He wills himself to respond, to prove to Lance that he can be all Lance needs.

With deft fingers, Lance flicks open JC's pants and slides his hand inside. Yes, this tells him all he needs to know. JC is hot and hard and excited because of Lance. So Lance quickly strips off his own shirt and pants and lies back, a silent invitation.

JC looks down into Lance's eyes, blank and dark with lust. He slides his hand down to encircle Lance's erection. HE caused this, he realizes. This arousal is all for him. Still, the insecurities crowd in on him and he pushes them away once more as he starts stroking Lance slowly and sensually.

It's just as Lance had fantasized about this morning, only now it's real. Lance smiles at the memory, his erection twitching in JC's hand.

Unbidden, the image of Lance standing in the shower, doing this very thing to himself, appears vividly in JC's mind. He squeezes harder, stroking more roughly, almost angrily.

Lance has never seen JC so aggressive in bed. At first he's titillated, but soon it becomes almost painful. "Whoa, JC, hey, take it easy," Lance pleads, covering JC's hand with his own.

JC stops. "Sorry, I . . . sorry. I guess I got carried away."

"It's okay. Are you okay?"

"Me? I'm fine. C'mon, let's just do it."

Let's just do it? It's not like JC to be so aggressive, but Lance decides to just go with it and question him later. He pulls JC into a kiss, freeing JC from the confines of his pants, and spreads his legs.

JC again wills himself to respond, but he knows his anger and confusion are keeping him from being sufficiently aroused. To mask his inability, he slips downward to take Lance into his mouth, soothing his earlier rough caresses with his warm, wet mouth.

Confused, Lance lifts his head, but he's so excited by JC's attention that for a few minutes he simply loses himself in the sensation of JC's tongue on his hardness. Soon, though, he wants more. "JC," he moans, "I want you inside me." JC releases Lance long enough to fumble in the drawer for lubricant. He coats his fingers and thrusts two inside Lance, leaning over to take him in his mouth once more.

Lance moans at the invasion, closing his eyes and savoring the sensations. This urgency with which JC acts is not usual, but it's not altogether unpleasant. He figures it's the stress of the new album that's taking its toll.

JC continues to caress Lance with lips, tongue and fingers, urging him to his release, hoping to get Lance to finish so they can both go to sleep and forget about this night.

Although Lance loves what JC is doing to him, he wants more. Gently, he pushes at JC's head, whispering, "JC, please, I want you to make love to me."

JC finally looks up with an anguished expression. "I . . . I can't."

"What's wrong?" But when Lance looks down at their bodies he sees. "Oh." Words are unnecessary--JC's told him all he needs to know. JC doesn't want him.

"I-I-I- . . . maybe I drank too much. Let me finish you, please?"

Concerned over JC's problem, Lance tries to sit up. "No, I want to know what's wrong."

"I'm sorry. This has never, like, happened to me before." JC gives a short, bitter laugh. "I sound like a complete cliche."

"It happens to everyone sometime." Lance pulls JC up to lie next to him. "You're under a lot of stress." It sounds good, at least.

"I'm so sorry. It's not you."

But Lance isn't convinced. He rubs JC's back in an attempt to soothe his lover, but he can't shake the feeling that he did something to cause this. "Are you sure? Do you want me to do anything?"

"I . . . no. It's just . . . am I still enough for you?"

"How can you even ask that?"

"I . . . I saw you this morning. In the shower."

"What are you talking about--oh." Deeply embarrassed, Lance rolls over.

"Yeah. And it's been bugging me all day. If I was enough, would you need to do that?"

"I did that BECAUSE I was thinking of you."

"I . . . Am I really that big of an idiot?"

Lance rolls back over to face JC and wraps his arms around him. "No. Insecure, maybe. JC, you're the only one I want. What do I have to do to prove that?"

"I don't deserve you."

"Maybe not," jokes Lance, then smiles. "But you have to know that I never would go out with you if I didn't feel this way."

"I just . . . sometimes I look at you and I can't believe you could be mine."

"Well, I am. You know what I was thinking about this morning?"

"Nope. Tell me."

"I was thinking how good it feels when you touch me."

"Really?"

"Uh huh. That's why I got all hot and bothered. I was thinking about you taking a shower with me."

"I was all ready to climb in there with you. I guess I should've."

"I would have loved it, getting all soapy with you."

"I'm sorry. I really screwed up."

"You didn't," Lance assures. "But I'd rather you screw me."

"Well, when you put it that way . . . "

"I put it this way." Lance takes JC's hand and puts it on his semi- flaccid erection.

JC wraps his hand around the stiffening flesh and leans in to kiss Lance with all the tenderness that had been missing earlier.

"This is how I imagined it," Lance says when they part.

"This is how it should always be."

"So you can stop worrying. I'm not going anywhere. And neither are you."

"Yeah, I am. To the shower. So we can do this right."

Lance sits up and practically yanks JC out of the bed in his eagerness to get to the bathroom.

"Babe, it'll be better if my arm isn't like dislocated."

"Oh, sorry. See how much I want you?"

"That much, huh?" JC pushes Lance up against the door jamb, kissing him hard, before letting Lance lead him into the bathroom.

By the time Lance gets the water running he's rock hard, and it's like deja vu as he steps under the warm spray. Only this time he's not alone.

JC kisses Lance, then turns him away so he's facing the wall. He wraps his hand around Lance's erection again, and rasps, "Tell me what I was doing to you in your fantasy."

Lance swallows, his body covered in chill bumps as JC's voice washes over him. He puts one hand on the cool tiles and reaches for the soap with the other. "Um, you were rubbing soap all over my chest."

JC takes the soap and starts moving it slowly over Lance's chest. As he does that, he plants kisses across Lance's shoulders and the back of his neck.

"Yesss, you were kissing me just like that. It felt so good. It FEELS so good." He has both hands on the tiles now, his knees have gone weak from JC's tender kisses. JC drops the soap and uses his hands to massage the suds into Lance's skin, skimming his nipples lightly.

Lance bites his lip and squeezes his eyes shut. His chest expands and contracts with each rapid breath as JC's feather-light touch arouses him even more. JC presses his body against Lance's, his arousal very much evident as it throbs against Lance's ass. His touch on Lance's nipples is more definite and he kisses his way up to nibble at Lance's ear.

A slow, lazy smile plays on Lance's lips as JC's hardness makes contact with his body. He is confident now that HE is the cause of that and it pleases him to no end. To be loved by this man is the greatest pleasure Lance can imagine. He leans back against JC, willing him inside. JC doesn't misinterpret Lance's body language THIS time. He nudges Lance's legs apart and presses inside.

Lance gasps his pleasure as JC fills him. He spreads his palms and presses back, taking in more of his lover.

"Was this in your fantasy?" JC whispers hotly.

"No," grunts Lance. "This is better than the fantasy. WAY better."

JC encircles Lance's erection with his warm, wet hand as he pumps smoothly into his lover. "Better than any fantasy I ever had."

"I bet you've had lots." Lance slides one hand down the wall and behind him to grip JC's hip. He moves against the hand holding him and in time to JC's thrusts, all the while amazed at how much better their lovemaking feels after all their pent-up emotions were released.

"Lots," JC agrees. "All starring you."

"I hope I felt as good in them as I do now," he grunts.

"Nothing could feel better than right now," JC whispers, thrusting more deeply.

"Um . . . um . . . ," and before Lance can say any more he bucks against JC and comes in his hand. "That did."

With a few final thrusts, JC explodes into Lance, wrapping his arm around Lance's waist to help support them both.

Lance never feels more secure than when he's in JC's arms, and now is no exception, even in this shower. "Darlin'," he pants, "if that's what happens in your fantasies I'm a goner."

"Mmmm. I'll take my chances." JC picks up the soap and resumes washing Lance. Lance rests his head against the wall as the water and soap wash away his sweat. He sighs as JC's gentle hands work away all the day's grime and tension. An immense wave of contentment washes over him and all he wants to do right now is cuddle in bed with his boyfriend. "This is exactly what I wanted you to do this morning."

"Sorry. I screwed up."

Turning in JC's arms, Lance kisses him. "Shhhh. You didn't. All that matters now is that we're cool. Right?"

"Yeah. And I promise not to jump to conclusions the next time."

Lance clasps both of JC's hands. "How about we jump into bed instead?"

"That sounds like a very, very good idea." JC turns off the water and the step out of the shower, reaching for towels.

They towel off, Lance playfully mussing JC's hair. In the bedroom, Lance finds two clean pairs of shorts and hands one to JC while he gets a fire going in the fireplace. As it blazes, he hops into bed, where JC is already half asleep. He wraps his arms securely around JC and breathes in his delicious scent. "Sweet dreams, darlin'."

Back to stories