Medley: Reality Check
by Karen and LB
© 2002
He didn't exactly FALL out of the SUV. It was more like the ground moved under him. The nerve! Good thing Lonnie was there to catch him. He never even said a word, just hustled Lance inside the hotel before the few huddled fans could get a good look at him. Good ol' Lonnie, always there when you need him most. And even when you don't. Lance doesn't remember sliding the key in the lock, but soon he finds himself inside the large suite, the lights in the bedroom off, which means JC is fast asleep. So Lance kicks off his shoes and tiptoes around, even though he knows JC can't hear him on the carpet. Until he enters the bedroom and trips on a shopping bag. A very loud, crinkly shopping bag. "SHHHHHH!" Lance loudly whispers to the bag, then giggles.
"Babe?" JC says drowsily. "You okay?"
"I'm just swell," Lance slurs, his accent thick and his voice husky.
JC peels himself out of bed and meets Lance halfway, leading him to the bed. He pushes the younger man down, and pulls off his socks and jeans, then rolls him under the covers. A familiar scene. Too familiar. JC crawls back into his side of the bed.
Lance is half asleep before his head hits the pillow, but he manages to murmur, "I love youuuuuuu, JC."
JC has a hard time falling back to sleep. For at least an hour, he struggles over the question of whether Lance is partying too much or if he, JC, is just boring.
Another hangover, nothing a few aspirins won't take care of. He'll be fine by soundcheck, he tells himself. He'll go work out, drink a Red Bull, and all will be good.
JC watches silently as Lance, clearly hurting, tosses back aspirin. He thinks of a million things to say, but all of them feel wrong. Nagging. So he stays silent, for now, waiting for the right moment.
Lance is quiet during soundcheck, letting the other guys take over. After, he retreats to the toy room for a nap. He knows after an hour of sleep he'll be fine. Joey sneaks up to the couch that Lance is lying on and screams "WAKE UP" in his ear.
Lance rolls off, landing with a thud on the floor. The carpeting doesn't help to cushion it, though, and Lance groans. "You dick." He grabs a pillow from the couch and puts it over his head, curling up where he lies.
"Dude," Joey says, poking Lance with his foot. "Time to get ready."
"In a minute."
"Now. Or I'll let Justin get you."
"Your threats don't scare me."
"C'mon dude. Everyone's waitin'."
"Okay." But he doesn't move. Finally, Joey lifts him up and heaves him over his shoulder, ignoring Lance's protests to put him down. He carries his parcel all the way to the dressing room amid snickers from various crew members, and deposits him on the closest chair. "Dude, you really have lost weight," Joey says, then begins to undress.
JC pretends not to notice, but privately feels vindicated. He's not the only one noticing how Lance is lately. He wonders for the millionth time if he should say something, and moves to the chair nearest Lance. What comes out of his mouth, though, is, "Hey, you want to do something tonight after the show? Just you and me?"
"Like what? Justin said Trace wants to check out the clubs."
"Like, I don't know, dinner or something?"
"Sure. We could go to dinner and hit the clubs after."
"I though maybe we could do something else after."
"You don't want to go dancing?"
JC gives Lance his most seductive look. "There's dancing, then there's . . . dancing."
"Ohhh, you want to go that strip club Anthony was telling us about."
JC rolls his eyes. "I was thinking of a more private kind of show."
Lance finally perks up. "You're gonna strip for me?"
"That's the idea."
"Guys, c'mon, let's get moving," orders Johanna. Soon they're dressed and cued and the show begins and the boys are focused on entertaining the fans who paid to see them sing and dance. Lance feels much more energized once he's onstage, and by the time they run off the stage and are corralled into the waiting SUVs, he's ready to party.
JC sits impatiently as the SUV weaves its way through traffic and back to the hotel. He wants to shower, he wants to change, and he wants to spend time with his boyfriend.
"You coming or what?" Justin asks as Lance is changing.
"JC wants to grab some dinner. Where you gonna be?"
Justin tells him the name of the club, instructing Lance that he better be there or he'll miss all the action. Lance wants to go--he feels the pull. Ever since Justin and Britney split Justin had been on a wild binge and Lance was enjoying the ride. He dials JC's room.
JC's still in the shower when Lance calls. He steps out, dripping, to grab the bathroom extension. "Yeah?"
"Justin wants us to meet up with him."
"I thought we were gonna, you know, come back here."
"We will. We'll just stay out for a little while."
"I guess."
A little while turned into a long while. Lance dined with JC as promised, but it was a quick bite and they were at the club within the hour. They went immediately to the VIP area, and a Jack and Coke was in Lance's hand before he could even approach the bar. JC goes along because what else can he do? Go back to the hotel and pout? But inside he's angry and disappointed.
Two hours and many drinks later, Lance staggers over to where JC is seated, talking to Beth. He nearly throws himself in JC's lap but a warning look from Beth stops him in time. "Want to go back?" he yells in JC's ear.
"Yeah. I'm ready to go."
"Laaaaaaaaaaaance!" a girl's voice sings from the bar. "Come do shots with us!"
Lance rubs JC's shoulder. "Just one, then we're out of here."
"Go ahead. I'm going back."
Lance had never intended to break that promise, but at 4 in the morning, when he and Justin and the gang finally return to the hotel he feels incredibly guilty. But then, as he rides the elevator to his room, he wonders why. Was he doing anything wrong? All he did was kick back and enjoy some downtime. Now, as he opens the door and enters the suite, all he wants to do is climb into bed and make sweet drunken love to his boyfriend. He approaches the bed slowly and manages to strip off his shirt and pants before sliding between the sheets behind JC. He wraps his arms around the sleeping body and kisses the back of his neck.
JC pretends to be asleep, but he knows he has to say something. Just not now.
Lance continues kissing JC's shoulder, breathing hard and pressing his erection against JC's underwear-clad ass.
"Lance?" JC slurs, feigning sleepiness.
"Mmm hmm, darlin'. It's me."
"It's late. Go to sleep, babe."
"I'm not tired. Yet."
How can JC refuse? It's what he wanted, right? He touches the hands holding him, signalling acquiescence.
Lance slides one hand into JC's underwear, stroking the sleeping organ awake. "I'm sorry I came back so late."
"I just MISS you, you know? I miss spending time with you."
"You're spending time with me now."
But will you remember it? JC thinks sadly. "Yeah."
"You used to like going out."
"I do, sometimes."
"What's changed?"
"You like going out all the time. That's what's changed."
"I'm gonna be gone for six months. I won't be able to go out as much."
"And that's why I want to spend as much time with you as I can."
Lance removes his hand and wraps his arms around JC. "We've got now."
But you'd rather hang with Justin than with me, JC thinks, but says, "Yeah, we've got now."
Lance closes his eyes and breathes softly against JC's neck. "Still tired?"
"Not so much."
"We don't have to if you don't want to."
JC reaches for Lance's hand and brings it back to his still semi-hard erection. "What do YOU think?"
"Mmm, I think I like." He wraps his hand around JC's heat and strokes it to even greater hardness.
JC pushes his thoughts and misgivings out of his mind and concentrates on the sensation Lance's hand is evoking.
The alcohol in his bloodstream can't keep Lance's libido from taking over. His own erection presses against JC's ass, and he quickly discards JC's shorts, then struggles out of his own pants.
JC rolls onto his back to watch Lance, smiling a little at Lance's struggle and the intent expression it brings to his face.
Smiling, embarrassed at his slight lack of coordination, Lance finally frees himself and rolls on top of JC, then begins to kiss him. JC tries to ignore the strong taste of alcohol still hovering around Lance's mouth, and as Lance's body presses into his, he succeeds.
Lance reaches for the lube on the nightstand and lifts JC's legs, slicking the substance on his own throbbing erection before pressing inside. He buries his face in JC's shoulder as he thrusts quickly.
JC bites back his cry of pain at being entered so quickly, with so little preparation. He's glad Lance can't see his face as he tries to relax and get past the pain. Panting heavily Lance explodes inside JC, hot and hard, with a muffled cry. He collapses against JC, exhausted, as the night's activities finally catch up with him.
JC turns his face away as his own erection shrivels. At this point, he just wants Lance to move away, go to sleep.
The boys have the next night off and Lance, Justin, and the posse organize another night of bar-hopping. Lance convinces JC to come along, fully intending to take it easy and head home early.
It's deja vu all over again, as the saying goes. JC knows before it starts how the evening will go, and wonders why he's putting himself through this once again.
Lance comes up behind JC, buzzed but not drunk. "Hey, hottie. Can I buy you a drink?"
JC gestures with his mostly full glass. "I'm good."
"You are. Very good."
"Cute. Very cute."
"You're that, too."
"You wanna, um, get out of here?"
"Sure. Let me just tell Justin we're leaving." But when he finds Justin another drink is thrust in his hand, and before he knows it he's behind the bar, serving drinks himself.
With one last, disgusted look in Lance's direction, JC heads back to the hotel alone. This time, instead of staying in the room they've been sharing, he picks up a few things and heads for his own room.
When Lance returns in the wee hours of the morning and finds the bed empty, he wanders down the hall to JC's room. He doesn't have the key so he knocks as softly as he's able. JC pulls the door open. "What?"
Lance throws his arms around JC, tired and confused. "Why are you in here?"
"I just wanted to sleep."
"Can I join you?"
"If you're gonna go right to sleep you can."
"I just want to curl up next to you."
"C'mon in."
Lance bows his head, smiling sheepishly and follows JC to the bedroom, where he strips off any necessary clothing and climbs in beside JC's warm body. He feels safe and content, and is soon fast asleep.
JC awakens first and spends a long time watching Lance's face, flushed in sleep. His lips are slightly chapped, which, for some reason moves JC greatly. Sensing he's being watched, Lance finally opens his eyes, then scrunches them closed and stretches, a long, cat- like stretch. "Good morning," he mumbles.
"How's your head?"
"Fine. Just tired."
"You sure? I could get you some aspirin."
"Yeah, maybe that would be a good idea. Thanks."
JC pads over to the bag he'd brought with him last night, locating the bottle of Advil inside his shaving kit. He brings it and a bottle of water over to Lance, then crawls back into bed. Lance takes a sip of the cool water and swallows two tablets. "Why'd you leave last night?"
"I was tired." JC considers stopping there, then adds, "Tired of waiting."
"I'm sorry. I would have come with you but Justin made me bartend."
"Made you?"
"Okay, so he pushed and I went. But it was a blast!"
"I'm sure."
"These girls were all over Justin. He was crazy."
"What does that have to do with you?"
"It was fun watching him."
"We could have had fun, too."
"Could have?"
"Yeah. Could have. As in didn't."
"We could have fun now."
"Like yesterday?"
"Aw, darlin', I'm sorry I passed out on you."
"It, it wasn't just that." JC sighs. "But, look, I don't wanna talk about me. It's you I'm worried about."
"What's to worry about? I'm fine."
"You get drunk every night. I'm not talking about just drinking. I'm talking about getting fallin' down drunk."
"It's not every night. You make it sound like I'm an alcoholic."
"It IS every night. Tell me the last night you didn't get drunk."
"I don't know--let me check my Palm Pilot."
"Fine. Be that way."
"What way? JC, am I messing up during the show? And I passed all my medical tests, so I don't understand what the problem is."
"Sure, you may be passing the tests, but this CAN'T be good for you."
"If I'm passing the tests, it's not bad for me. Look, the tour's almost over and then I'm hopefully going to Russia. It's not like I can go out every night there."
"Yeah, well, what if your sponsors decide you're a bad risk?"
"It's not like Entertainment Tonight is following me around. And I haven't trashed any hotel rooms."
JC feels like giving up, but gives one more try. "Look, you know I only want what's best for you, right?"
"I know you do. And I appreciate the concern, but there's really nothing to worry about. I'm just having fun."
"Have I ever said anything like this to you before?"
"No, and that's why I'm curious. Why now?"
"Because I'm seeing a different person. Before you drank. Now you get drunk. You're hung over every morning."
"I'm not hung over. I'm just tired."
"Yeah, right."
Lance sighs and throws his head back. "Fine. I'll stay in tonight."
"That's not the point. You think I want to punish you or something?"
"That depends. Did I do something wrong?"
JC shakes his head resignedly. "Just please, please be careful, okay?"
"I will. I am. I promise." But that night, it's like a bad rerun. Justin, girls, booze, an early morning trek back to the hotel. And Page Six.
The story hits JC like a physical blow. Whipped cream and hootchie girls. Nice to know that his words to Lance made such an impression. And now . . . His first impulse is to pack up his things and go, permanently. But he doesn't know how to walk away from Lance. He doesn't know how to let go.
Beth leaves the clipping for Lance in his room while he's in the gym working out. She knocks on JC's door, knowing he'd be spending some quiet time writing. JC stumbles to the door, looking red-eyed and exhausted. "Hey, JC. You look beat."
"Yeah, I'm a little . . . C'mon in. How are you, okay?"
"I'm worried. JC, have you been crying?"
The sympathy in Beth's tone almost breaks JC, but he manages to pull himself together. "Me? Nah."
"You have. I can tell. Lance?"
JC sags onto the couch, offering Beth a chair. "Yeah."
"Look, I've known Lance for a long time. He can get pretty wild, in spite of what most people think. But he's never, ever, let anyone down. I could talk to him, but I'll just sound like his mother, and he doesn't need that right now. Sometimes you guys can all be so stubborn--what he needs is for someone to tell him how much he loves him and how worried he is about him. Give him a reason to tone it down."
"You think I haven't tried? Nothing I say helps. We talked just yesterday. He said he was gonna stay in last night. You see how well that worked."
"He's surrounded by his friends. You know what an influence they can be. But he's a guy. He can be . . . persuaded. Like I said, give him a 'reason.' "
"He's not interested in any reason I give him."
"JC, all boys are interested in THAT."
"He is," JC says, blushing. "But he gets drunk first, then comes back and . . . wants to."
"So make sure he doesn't go out and drunk."
"I've tried. He goes anyway. He'll tell me he's staying in, or ask me to come for just one drink, but then he disappears."
"So make sure he doesn't disappear. JC, do you want him to go out?"
"You make it sound so easy. He does what he wants whether I want him to or not."
"JC, sometimes you boys can be so pigheaded! Do you love him?"
"Of course I do. But what am I supposed to do, lock him in his room?"
"If you have to. But I don't think you'll have to. Just do what you do best. Just . . . love him."
"I do. I'm just, you know, not sure he still loves me."
"How can you even say that? Of course he--" But Beth can't finish, because just then the door opens and Lance bounds in, sweat-soaked and glowing from his workout.
"Hey, Beth," he says, surprised to see her here.
"Hey, Lance. I gotta go," she says to JC. "Remember what I said."
"Thanks, Beth." JC glances at Lance, momentarily silenced by how pumped and beautiful he looks. "Um, good workout?"
"Yeah, it was great. What've you been up to?"
"You know, writing, having my coffee." JC pauses. "Reading the papers."
"What's new in the news to-day," Lance sing-songs, as he rummages through his bags for something clean to wear.
"You're on Page Six."
"I am? What does it say?"
"Does whipped cream sound familiar?"
"Whipped cream? Oh wait, yeah, there were these girls, I think."
"You THINK? Lance, you're scaring me."
"Okay, there were girls. And they had whipped cream on them and told me and Justin to lick it off."
"That's gross," interjects Beth.
"It was funny."
"It's stupid."
"It's--" JC thinks of all the things he could say. Insulting comes to mind. Hurtful. "Unsanitary," is what comes out.
"Dude, they were wearing clothes."
"That's not the point, Lance. It's degrading." Beth stands up. "I've got some things to do. I'll talk to you guys later."
"Hey, wait a second," Lance says, taking her hand. "I'm sorry. Please don't be mad."
"I'm not. I'm just tired." Beth leaves, and Lance pulls off his sweaty shirt.
"It really wasn't as bad as Page Six made it out to be."
JC stands, walks over to Lance, and takes both his hands. "If it's half as bad, it's bad. With everything else."
"What do you mean?"
"Babe, I know you don't want to hear this, but it's like you don't care what anyone thinks anymore. Like you don't care about yourself."
"I do care. I do. I just . . . I wanted to have some fun. And with Freddy here--he's one of my best friends."
"It's like . . . nothing else is fun anymore."
"Have I NOT done anything else?"
"Well, no. When was the last time we went to a movie, or went to hear live music, or just hung out?"
"I don't know. I guess we haven't."
"I miss that. I miss you. It's like you're here, but you're not."
"Am I really that bad?"
"You want the truth?"
"Yes."
"Sometimes."
"I'm probably going to be gone for a long time. I just wanted to have some fun."
"Do you know how much I'm gonna miss you?"
Tears begin to well in Lance's eyes. "Not as much as I'll miss you."
"Then don't shut me out. Not now, when we have so little time."
"I'm sorry. I don't want to shut you out. I want to be with you as much as I can."
"Then do this for both of us."
"You want me to stop going out?"
"No. I just want you to dial it back some."
Lance nods, then moves over to the bed. "Okay. I'll tone it down." He picks up the newspaper and turns to Page Six. "I'm not even into girls."
"You apparently faked it pretty well."
"I didn't think it was so bad. But the funny thing is, for once the Post got it right. Almost."
JC looks up sharply. "Almost?"
"It was mostly Justin. I only had a taste."
"If you really want whipped cream, I'm sure something can be arranged."
Lance's eyes widen to saucers. "I really want it."
"Tonight. You. Me. Dairy products."
Looking from the newspaper to JC and back again, Lance tosses the paper and replies, "It's a date."
"Good. Now, don't stand me up for Justin. Cream does go sour, you know."
Lance thought it would be so easy, but after the show, the posse descends upon him. "C'mon, Lance. Let's go. Let's go. Let's go . . . " And he's tempted. Very tempted. Justin can be so persuasive. And Freddy. But then there was JC. The look on his face. Not scorn, not anger--concern. "Not tonight, Just. I've got other plans."
"What other plans? C'mon, just hang for a little while."
"No, you go ahead. We'll hang tomorrow night."
"What could be better than drinks and chicks?" Lance raises his eyes. "Okay, drinks. The chicks are for me."
Lance laughs, then claps Justin on the back. "Something special."
JC sits in his room, freshly showered, thinking about what an idiot he's gonna feel like if Lance doesn't show. He probably went overboard on the whipped cream and stuff, but he wants to give Lance a reason to WANT to stay in more.
Lance knocks confidently on JC's door, knowing he made the right decision. He could go out any night, right? At least he hoped he was making the right decision.
JC walks nervously to the door. He hadn't really dressed since he'd figured things might get messy, so he was wearing sweats and a tight little t-shirt. When he sees Lance standing outside his door, his face breaks into a huge smile. "Hey, baby."
"Hey, darlin'." Lance notes JC's attire. "You wanna change before we go out?"
"I though we were, um, staying in."
"So what did you have in mind?" Lance says, slinking in the door.
"I got whipped cream. I got chocolate sauce. There may even be strawberries. Give you any ideas?"
"Sundaes?"
JC flings himself on the bed. "You're hopeless."
"I'm hopeless. Oh, okay. If you think so. But let me tell you something."
"What?"
"This." Lance brings his hand from behind his back, where he'd been holding a can of whipped cream. He lets it loose on JC, spraying the white foam on his face and up and down his body.
"You . . . better . . . clean . . . that . . . up," JC sputters, between fits of giggles.
"I'm not done yet." Lance climbs on top of JC, straddling him, and pulls JC's pants out, aiming the spray directly at his crotch.
"That's COLD!" JC shouts.
"Uh oh, shrinkage?" Lance peeks inside JC's pants. "Nope, you're fine." He aims the spray at JC's face and gives him a beard.
JC gives up the struggle, letting Lance do whatever he wants, plotting revenge.
"Dude, you look like the Sta-Puft Marshmallow man!"
"If I wasn't worried about dripping on the carpet, you would be TOAST."
"Suuuuuure. Using the carpet as an excuse." He presses down on the nozzle but nothing comes out. The can is empty.
"All out? So, you're, like, unarmed?" JC reaches over the side of the bed and grabs the first container that his hand falls on. He smiles sweetly--very sweetly, since his face is covered in sweet cream, and squirts Lance full in the face with chocolate sauce.
"Ugh! You play dirty, Chasez!" He wipes his eyes and smears JC's face with his chocolate-covered hands.
JC licks at Lance's fingers. "But you love me anyway?"
Lance stops moving and gazes into JC's eyes. "Always."
"C'mere, Chocolate Boy."
Lance leans in to kiss JC, the chocolate making the kiss all the more enticing.
When the kiss ends, JC says, "That's a nice shirt. You better take it off. "
Laughing, Lance looks down at the stains. "Good thing we're NOT going out." Lance unbuttons his not-so-white-anymore shirt and slides it off his shoulders.
"There's only one problem." JC squirts chocolate sauce onto Lance's bare chest. "That's better."
"Hey! What do you think I am? A piece of . . . cake?"
JC leans forward to lick at the chocolate. "Better than cake."
Shivering, Lance asks, "Better than pecan pie?"
"Better than pecan pie with ice cream on top."
"Well, if you want cream I think I can come up with some."
"I'm sure you have plenty of . . . cream."
"You can even whip it if you want. Oh my goodness."
"You really HAVE been corrupted."
"It's your fault! You're a bad influence."
"MY fault? I'm not even fun."
"You're too much fun for one person."
"So I'm not boring?"
Lance stops moving and wraps his arms around JC instead. "No, you're not. And I'm sorry if I made you feel that way."
JC snuggles into Lance's embrace, heedless of the goo between them. "I don't feel boring now."
"You feel all slimy and sticky now."
"And whose fault is that?"
"I was provoked."
"Gee, what else have I provoked you to do?"
"This." Lance rolls them over so he's laying on top, their chests sliding. He locks his knees around JC's body, holding them steady.
"Is that all you got?" JC challenges.
"You want more? Huh? You want MORE?" Lance clasps JC's hands and pins them to the mattress, then flicks his tongue at JC's lips, wiping them clean of any whipped cream residue.
"Yeah, more," JC rasps, struggling a little with Lance's grip on him.
Lance loosens his grip slightly, but still holding JC captures his mouth, slipping his tongue inside to taste the sweet sugary cavern.
JC tastes chocolate and sucks eagerly at Lance's tongue. With his hands held captive and his body pinned to the bed, he can only let Lance have his way. Not that he's complaining.
Lance releases JC's mouth and licks his way along one sculpted cheek, then the other. "I always knew you were sweet," he says softly.
JC groans at the joke, but the groan turns into a sound of pleasure as Lance's tongue caresses his face.
Lance soon licks his way over to one large, fleshy earlobe, and he breathes hotly, "I'm sorry I hurt you."
"I, mmmmm, I shouldn't have gotten on your case."
"You were worried. I love that about you--that you worry about me."
"I want what's best for you--you know that, right?"
"I know. I guess that's why I need you--to keep me in line."
JC giggles. "You call this keeping you in line?"
"At least I'm here, making a mess of you and not someone else."
"And dabbling in the major food groups."
"I don't see any whole grains."
"We can call room service."
"Later. Right now I want my dairy products." Lance dips down and licks cream off JC's right nipple.
"Mmmmm. I got fruit, too . . . " JC trails off dreamily.
"What, this?" Lance asks, lifting his head and locating the bowl of fresh, ripe strawberries. He plucks one out and holds it between his fingers just inches above JC's lips. "You want this?"
"I want . . . anything you wanna give me."
"Come and get it." Lance puts the berry between his teeth and waits. JC lifts his head and bites into the sweet fruit, bringing their lips together.
Lance sucks gently, the juice squirting into his mouth as his lips move against JC's in the sweetest kiss he's ever experienced.
"More," JC whispers when there is no more fruit.
Lance plunges down, capturing JC's mouth, thrusting his tongue inside. He pulls back and grabs another berry, bites half and brings the other half to JC's lips. JC bites down, feeling and tasting the juice spread over his lips before closing his lips over Lance's.
This time, Lance savors the kiss the way he would the succulent fruit itself. The tangy sweetness combined with JC's own flavor arouse him immediately.
JC slides his free hand into Lance's hair, oblivious to cream and chocolate. He only cares about being as close to Lance as possible.
Lance nudges JC's knees apart and begins to move his body against JC. The kiss becomes more intense and soon he's kissing JC's face, and then his neck, his arousal increasing with each kiss.
JC moans in response to Lance's kisses, undulating his body against Lance's. His hand slips out of Lance's hair and slithers down Lance's spine.
Breathing heavily against JC's neck, Lance reaches between their bodies and slips his hand inside JC's sweatpants. His hand is instantly covered in the slimy residue of the whipped cream he'd sprayed there earlier, but he doesn't care. He uses the lubricant to stroke JC's already prominent erection.
JC squeezes Lance's tight ass, then moves to the front of his pants to unfasten the button.
Lance raises his hips to make it easier while his tongue licks the sugary sweetness from JC's neck.
Shivering with the ticklishness of Lance's tongue against his neck, as well as with anticipation, JC quickly deals with the button and zipper and reaches inside to massage the hot stiffness.
Lance moans against JC's throat, the touch so tantalizing, even sober. Especially sober. The sensations are sharper, clearer, more defined. Every touch, every sound. He's aware of everything.
"I need to take these off you," JC says urgently.
"Okay." At first, Lance doesn't move. He continues to kiss JC, tugging down the neckline of JC's shirt to kiss his collarbone. Finally, he kneels and rests his hands on JC's shoulders.
JC tugs at Lance's pants and manages to pull them down around his hips, but can't pull them any farther. "This isn't working," he grumbles.
Flustered, Lance steps off the bed and drops his pants, but then remembers he still has his shoes on. He stumbles around, struggling to get them off, then falls back against the bed and flings them across the room, laughing.
"All those years of learning choreography have REALLY paid off," JC teases.
"Shut up. Let's see YOU try to do that move. You're gonna be BEGGING me to teach it to you."
"I'll be begging for something."
"What? This?" He motions with his eyes to the sizable erection between his legs.
In one swift movement, JC grabs for another can of cream and covers the protuberance in question. "Pretty please?"
Lance flinches at the somewhat cold cream and narrows his eyes. "Now, you're gonna have to clean that up."
JC grins. "That's the idea."
Lance lays back. "What are you waiting for?"
JC leans over the side of the bed and then straightens and plops a cherry on top of the cream. "That."
There's silence as Lance stares at the creation, then bursts out laughing. "You just turned my manhood into a dessert!"
"I SO wish I had a camera."
"I am never letting you near a camera again."
"We're a total mess. What do you say we take a shower and fool around like normal people?"
"We're not normal people." Lance laces his hands behind his head. "I'll take a shower with you--but first you have to clean this off."
"Demanding, aren't you?" JC asks as he licks up a dollop of cream on Lance's thigh.
"I'm just trying to save what's left of my dignity."
"Babe, we both checked our dignity at the door."
"I had no idea I was about to become a human sundae."
"I gotta do something to show you I'm as much fun as clubbing."
"You don't have to prove anything to me. There's no competition."
"So there's no use in me doing this?" JC licks cream from one side of Lance' s erection.
Lance bites his lip. "Oh, there's a lot of use. A LOT."
JC grins. "You're so easy."
"I have to be. I have a blob of whipped cream on my crotch."
"And only one way to get it cleaned up," JC says, taking another swipe with his tongue.
"Mmmm, yeah. Just make sure you get it all."
JC picks up the cherry between his teeth and pauses for a moment. "I'll see what I can do," he coos, taking the perfectly tied stem from his mouth and handing it to Lance.
"I don't even want to know where you learned to do that."
"It's one of my secret talents."
"Any more you've been holding back?"
JC smiles slyly. "If I told you, they wouldn't be secret, would they?"
"So don't tell me. Show me."
JC begins licking at the cream again using quick, feathery movements of his tongue, savoring every bit.
His eyes focused on the ceiling, Lance pets JC's long curls, sighing contentedly. He can't imagine being anywhere but here right now.
JC lets his touches get harder, less teasing as he continues cleaning up the sweet, fluffy cream. He takes some cream on his finger and reaches up to caress one taut nipple, the cream mixing with some chocolate syrup left there earlier.
Lance's moan turns into a whimper under JC's practiced hands. He can smell the chocolate on his chest, intensifying his arousal to the point where he's about to come. JC stops and looks up at Lance's lust filled face. "All clean."
"Are you sure you didn't miss a spot?"
"This spot?" JC gives another swipe with his tongue. "Clean."
Lance breathes sharply. "W-what about this?" he asks, pointing to his chest.
"I dunno. I'm kinda full. And I'm still pretty messy."
Lance rolls over onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. "So you don't like playing dirty?"
"I like it," JC says, trailing a finger through the chocolate on Lance's chest. "I like it a LOT."
Lance takes the finger in his hand and brings it to his lips. "So do I," he says softly, before drawing the finger into his mouth and sucking it clean.
JC's expression goes dreamy, desire-filled. He pulls his finger from Lance's grip and runs it over Lance's chest again. "More?"
Nodding eagerly, Lance parts his lips. JC brings his finger to Lance's mouth, then, at the last second, smears chocolate on his nose instead.
"It's gonna be like that, is it?" Lance reaches over to the tray of goodies and flicks chocolate sauce at JC.
"But you look so CUTE with chocolate sauce on your nose."
"I don't want to look cute. I want to look HOT."
"You're always hot."
"You're totally biased, JC."
"That doesn't mean it's not true."
"I think all this sugar's gone to your head." He swipes at his nose, wiping the chocolate and licking it off his fingers.
"Now, that was totally cute." JC smiles provocatively. "But if you don't wanna be cute, show me. Show me how not cute you can be."
Lance wipes the smile from his face and moves in for a kiss, then cracks up. "I can't do this!"
"Yeah, you can." JC covers the laughing mouth with his own. The laughter dies as the kiss takes over, but the mirth behind the laugh never fades. It turns to something else, something more intense, as Lance takes JC in his arms and rolls them over and covers the slender body with his own.
For a moment, JC just lies there, feeling his heart jumping wildly in his chest, letting Lance kiss him till he can't breathe or think. Then his hands begin to move over Lance, touching everywhere, caressing, cupping, squeezing. Lance grinds his hips against JC, then reaches between their bodies to stroke JC's heat. "I want you . . . now," JC growls when they separate. "Now."
"Okay," Lance whispers, breathless, gazing into JC's steely gray eyes. "Don't move." Lance locates the small travel bag JC left on the bedside table and rummages for some lube. When he returns to JC's side, he kisses him once, then says, "There's no place else I'd rather be right now."
"Good," JC purrs and reaches for Lance's erection. "Because you'd look pretty weird walking around with this."
"Are you saying it's weird?"
JC strokes the stiff organ. "No way."
In one swift move, Lance hooks his arms under JC's legs and props them on his shoulders, then flips open the lube. He squeezes a generous amount into his hand and coats his burning erection. He pours some more onto his fingers and teases JC's puckered opening, never taking his eyes off JC's flushed face.
"Now," JC says again, his voice rough with need. With a devilish grin, Lance inserts two fingers slowly. Very slowly.
JC writhes on the bed. "Lanccccccce," he hisses in frustration.
"What?" Lance pushes in further, but with the same slow, controlled movement.
"You are SUCH a tease," JC groans.
"I just want it to be so good for you."
"It is. Always."
"Not lately. But I'm gonna make up for that." He pushes in as far as he can, then thrusts slowly and gently.
JC whimpers, inarticulate with desire and heat. He gazes up at Lance, loving the look of concentration on his face. "You don't need to make up for anything. Just love me."
"I do. More than you'll ever know." He removes his fingers and lowers himself to JC's lips. Kissing him softly, he enters JC even more gently than before.
JC sighs as he's penetrated, melting into the tenderness of the kiss. He holds Lance very close, as if they're one organism, each thrust as subtle as the beating of a heart.
Lance parts his lips, thrusting his tongue inside JC's mouth as he begins to pump his heat into JC. And the fact that he's completely sober makes it all the more enticing.
JC rocks his hips upward, meeting every thrust, inviting Lance still deeper. His tongue tangles with Lance's as they kiss, open-mouthed and sloppy and hot.
"You feel so good, so tight," Lance says, panting.
"So hot, so hard," JC replies, licking at Lance's adam's apple.
"Ohhhh, darlin', you keep doing that I won't be able to let you go."
"That's the idea," JC murmurs against the sensitive flesh.
Lance pushes in deeper, but still slowly, steadily, not with the pounding fury of the previous morning. He takes his time, watching JC's face, losing himself in those sparkling gray-blue eyes.
JC feels himself melting again under the gaze of Lance's impossible jade eyes. All the tenderness that has been missing lately is there now, and it's the best feeling in the world, to be loved like this.
And it's that very expression that gives Lance the encouragement he needs to pick up the pace. Even as he thrusts more quickly, and presses his cheek against JC's face, the heat from JC's skin penetrating him, it's love he feels.
As Lance shifts against him, holding him closer and pumping into him harder, JC's own erection, trapped between them, is caressed by every stroke, making him ever more aroused. His mouth is against Lance's ear, and he whispers hot, damp words into it, urging him onward.
Lance is on fire now, thrusting quicker and panting loudly against JC's shoulder. He's so close now, and he wraps a hand around JC's throbbing heat. He doesn't want to experience this intense pleasure alone.
JC gasps out his pleasure as he's hit with the full force of Lance's passion. As their bodies, sweat-slicked and flushed, work in perfect unison toward their mutual release, he whispers Lance's name like a prayer.
The sound echoes in his head as Lance comes, all his muscles contracting as he lets loose one final, powerful thrust.
JC wraps himself even more tightly around Lance as his orgasm courses through him, adding to the goo already making their chests stick together.
Lance holds JC until neither is moving, then covers JC's cheek with soft, butterfly kisses. "That was amazing."
"Amazing," JC agrees. "And messy."
Lance peels himself up. "Ew, we're gonna have to leave an extra tip for the maid."
"What do you say we shower then go sleep in YOUR room."
"That's a great idea. It's still early--we could watch a movie, order room service?"
"Just nothing with whipped cream."
"Are you saying you're sick of whipped cream?"
"Just of wearing it."
"Then let's get it off you." Lance slides his arms under JC and lifts him up.
JC goes rag-doll floppy as Lance lifts him. "Make me," he giggles.
"It's gonna be that way, is it?" As though JC really were a rag doll, Lance tosses him over his shoulder and heads to the shower. "No dessert for YOU next time, young man."
"I'll be good," JC promises sweetly.
"I know you will. Boy, do I know."
As soon as Lance sets JC on his feet again, JC leans in to kiss Lance. It's a sweet kiss, without the urgency of earlier, but filled with the certainty that he and Lance are back on track.