There was a long-standing tradition that, if you got dumped or you dumped
someone, you got presents. Though it had been Chris’s idea originally, it had
actually started with Joey. Joey had been the only one actually seeing someone
when the group started, so he was the guinea pig.
After the fifth breakup with Kelly, they created a new rule that you got
break-up presents to a maximum of three break-ups with any one person. This rule
would come in handy years later when JC and Bobbie turned out to be one of those
I-love-you-no-I-hate-you relationships, too.
There were other rules, too. Nothing extravagant, since that time Joey had
bought Chris a car and made everyone else’s presents look lame in comparison.
Nothing that the receiver wouldn’t like, because both Justin and Chris had
been caught giving people gifts they, obviously, intended to borrow and never,
ever give back. And really, that was about it, rule-wise.
Presents were the only good thing that was going to come out of breaking up
with Britney.
That was what Justin told himself, anyway.
~~~
Other than the promise of presents, everything else sucked. Justin cried a
lot when he was alone in his room, bitter and miserable. He’d only gotten
break-up presents once before, and it hadn’t hurt like this with Melissa.
Yeah, she’d cheated on him, but he’d been ready to go, too.
But Britney. Justin had really loved Britney a lot, and now.
Now, there was no Britney.
And there were still no fucking presents, which wouldn’t cheer him up,
because they never cheered anybody up, but they usually banished the pain for
the good five minutes it took to rip through the wrapping paper and laugh at all
the stupid stuff the guys had managed to find.
No presents, and no Britney, and no reason to get out of bed in the morning.
"Stop moping," Chris said when Justin finally managed to get
dressed and meet the others for breakfast. Admittedly, it was early afternoon by
the time he got there, and everyone but Chris had already moved onto the arena
for sound check, but Justin had tried. "You’re depressing
me."
Justin rolled his eyes.
"No, seriously. If anything, you should be angry, J. Hey, wanna go key
her car?"
Tempting idea, but, "no. Not yet, anyway. I don’t wanna give her the
satisfaction."
"Can I do it?"
Justin thought about it for a very brief moment then decided on,
"yes."
"Awesome," Chris said, and they went down to the lobby where Big
Mike was waiting with a car and a bag of McDonald’s. Justin ate on the way,
hoping this didn’t count as Chris’s gift because, while thoughtful, Justin
wasn’t all too keen on McDonald’s, and Chris knew that.
"You big pussy," Chris said when they were a few blocks from the
arena, deadlocked in Anaheim traffic. Chris had been making faces at passing
motorists. "This isn’t your present."
"Hey, I didn’t say anything," Justin protested. Because he hadn’t.
He had manners.
"You were thinking it. I can tell these things, you know. And hey, Big
Mike!" Chris shouted suddenly, so loud that Justin jumped back and whacked
his head on the window. "Lemme out, will ya? I think I just saw a certain
car that I have been given permission to key."
But Big Mike wouldn’t let him out, because Big Mike wasn’t stupid and
Chris was too blind to have seen Britney’s car, which had no reason for being
in Anaheim. Justin listened to Chris whine and beg and yelp for the rest of the
trip. By the time the arrived at the arena, Justin was so pissed and annoyed at
Chris that he mostly forgot about Britney and pain and moping.
~~~
By the end of the night, there were presents. Joey gave him a karaoke
machine, "for the bus, you know, cuz I know singing and performing make you
feel better, and C and Chris even said they wouldn’t kill you over it,
either," and Chris gave him an I’m-with-stupid hoodie.
"For when we go out in public together," Chris said proudly and
made Justin wear it all day. Justin was convinced Chris was going to make him
wear it on stage but wardrobe intervened at the last second, ignoring every one
of Chris’s pleas. Admittedly, it would have been funny.
JC’s present came right after the concert, after they were all herded to
the busses. Justin was smelly and exhausted, and Chris was up annoying Ernie,
the bus driver, even though he’d been banned from the cockpit, like,
thirty-seven million times for being a dangerous distraction.
JC, as always, had a hard-on that Justin still hadn’t learned how to
ignore.
It was made the present all the more worse, even knowing JC had put thought
into it.
"Uh," Justin said, staring at the books. Erotica books, with sexy
body parts on the covers and teasers on the back that sounded both cheesy and
alluring, straight and gay stuff. Justin hadn’t done guys in years.
Hadn’t even thought about it, really, until right that second. Mostly.
JC looked pleased with himself. "It took me a bit, but I think I got
your brain down, J."
"Thank you," Justin said weakly. "I’m sure they’re all
great."
"They are," JC replied, grinning. "I read them all first just
to make sure."
"Ew," Justin said, but laughed, too, and it felt so damn good to do
it.
~~~
Chris managed to key Britney’s car before they left California for Arizona,
claiming it was the second part of Justin’s gift. He even gave Justin the key
he had used to do it. Justin wrapped it in saran wrap stolen from catering and
guiltily kept it hidden in with his underwear.
Lance still hadn’t come through with a present.
Justin felt ungrateful for even noticing, but there was protocol, and Lance
broke up with guys so often that Justin actually bought gifts for Lance (always
designer clothing) in advance, knowing that nothing would go out of fashion by
the time Lance got dumped. Such things were inevitable, like the sun rises in
the east and what goes up must come down and other cliche stuff.
Justin told on him, but only to Joey, and only after Justin had got his hands
on Brianna.
Joey smiled. "I’m pretty sure he mentioned something about it. Give
him time, dude."
"Well, okay." Justin blew kisses on Brianna’s pudgy baby cheeks.
There was something about her that just made the whole world right. Probably her
sweet grin, or the way she pulled merrily on his hair, and a hundred other
things that banished the suckitude from Justin’s life.
"You wanna babysit for a while?"
"Yes," Justin said, and stole her for the whole afternoon, walking
around the stands as JC and Chris helped with sound check, Lance talked on his
phone, and Joey disappeared with Kelly. That made Justin very sad, so he
didn’t think about it. He played patty-cake with Brianna instead.
~~~
They moved from Phoenix to Las Vegas then to Houston, and there was still no
gift from Lance. There were a few annoyed messages from Britney about her
car, but Justin didn’t reply to any of them. He let Chris listen to them
because it made him happy and that made Justin happy.
By the time they hit San Antonio, Justin had given up and was no longer
talking to Lance.
"Man, you’re just mad at him because he’s more immediate than
Britney," JC said when he called Justin on it. Justin supposed JC had a
point, but so did he. Justin had spent thousands of dollars on Lance’s broken
hearts in the last few years and had got absolutely nothing in return.
Justin grumbled. "He’s being a jerk and not giving me my present, that’s
why I’m mad."
"Man, I know how to make you feel better. After the show, you and me are
going out."
Going out with JC wasn’t Justin’s idea of fun, because JC sucked at going
out. He just got drunk really quickly, ogled all the girls’s tits and got
called a pig a zillion times. And then, after all that, he still usually had a
handful of girls willing to go home with him and have sex.
Justin ended up talking to a really nice girl, who was an aspiring model and
majoring in philosophy. They talked a little about the meaning of life before
Justin took her back to the hotel, where they had slow careful sex, and they
didn’t talk at all the next morning. It was too awkward.
Justin decided to be mad at JC, too.
~~~
"Hey," Lance said, finally, in Dallas, and handed Justin a long
tube wrapped in tin foil. Justin took it, but didn’t say thanks. He was still
pissed that Lance had seemingly forgotten all about his pain. "But I wouldn’t
open it here if I was you. It’s a private type of gift, you know?"
Justin didn’t open it right then, but he did say, "thank you,
Lance," when Lance turned to leave, and Lance had given him a strange
little smile in response. Justin spent the rest of the day shaking the package
to figure out what it was, enduring taunts from the other guys to just open the
damn thing already, and then losing it for two hours before Joey found it in the
Quiet Room.
By the time Justin stumbled into his hotel room, the anticipation was killing
him, but the fear of the unknown was even worse. Maybe he didn’t want to open
it. Maybe it was just going to stay wrapped forever. Maybe Lance was just
fucking with him as Lance was known to do.
Justin took a shower then ordered room service then ignored Chris’s phone
calls. He watched TV for a while, using CNN to get caught up with the world.
Lance’s gift sat beside him, waiting. Finally, when Justin’s eyelids were
practically at his knees, he decided to just open it.
Big fucking mistake.
Justin choked, and dropped the dildo then picked it up again, brushing off
all the hair and other assorted fuzzy shit it had picked up from the carpet. It
wasn’t even a normal dildo. It was one of those double-headed ones that drove
JC nuts when he found lesbian porn that used them.
"Motherfucking asshole Lance," Justin mumbled angrily, shaking the
dildo in his fist.
It wobbled merrily back at him.
~~~
"Thank you," Justin muttered the next time he saw Lance, because he
was polite, and Lance smiled but didn’t say anything. He acted like things
weren’t weird, so Justin did too, and it became obvious that things weren’t
weird, at least not in Lance’s mind, but a dildo, a double-headed
dildo, what sort of "sorry you had your heart squished by his/her
shoe" gift was that?
"Chris, if you bought me a double-headed dildo, what would you mean by
it?" Justin asked the next morning, once the bus was underway in its trek
to Denver. There, they’d have a few days off because Lance was going to Moscow
to have medial tests done for the space thing.
"I wouldn’t buy you a double-headed dildo."
Chris didn’t look away from the tv when he said it, his fingers moving
furiously over the X-Box controller, squinting at the screen even though he had
his glasses on. Justin sat down next to him, pretending to watch and secretly
hoping Chris didn’t con him into a two-player game.
"Hypothetically," Justin said, "if you bought me a
double-headed dildo ..."
"I wouldn’t."
"Hypothetically, Chris."
Chris stabbed his finger down on the pause button then turned to him.
"Listen, okay? A hypothesis is an educated guess. A smart man would never
in a million years make an educated guess that I would give you a double-headed
dildo, because it’s just not something I’d ever do."
"Pissy bitch asshole," Justin muttered, sitting back and crossing
his arms.
Chris played for another ten minutes then paused the game. "However, if
Lance was to give you a double-headed dildo, I’d say he was doing it as an invitation,
because, see, Lance is a precocious young buck who has gotten it into his head
that sex makes everyone feel better."
Justin blinked. "What? An invitation to have sex with him?"
"He’s a bottom. You’re a bottom. Hypothetically, of
course," Chris added, grinning, and Justin rolled his eyes. He had, in
fact, stuck things up his ass before, just not anyone else’s dick. "Lance
is a little crazy in the head, right? So this makes perfect sense. He’s
thinking of you."
"So he’s not fucking with me?"
Chris smirked. "Not yet, baby."
~~~
Justin went to Joey for the second opinion, hoping that Chris was wrong and
Lance had really just wanted to mess with his head a little, but Joey came to
the same conclusion without any of Chris’s annoying preamble and without even
letting Justin finished his sentence first.
"Dude," Joey said, clapping a hand down on Justin’s shoulder,
"he obviously thinks you guys getting it on would help you somehow, and
hey, it probably would. It’s Lance, you know? When’s the last time you got
laid by someone not Britney? It’s probably been a while, huh?"
"Like three days ago," Justin said defensively, "with a really
hot girl."
Joey whistled. "Nice, man. So, okay. I’m wrong there, but I know
Lance. He’s offering."
"But why," Justin asked, "would Lance want to have sex with
me?"
Joey shrugged. "Why not? I’d have sex with you myself, if Kelly wouldn’t
kill me."
"You know sex doesn’t fix anything, right?" Justin said, refusing
to let a smile crack his lips, refusing, and he wasn’t just laughing
because the idea of sex with Joey was so odd. "I mean, somewhere
along the way, you guys learned that sex actually makes things worse,
right?"
"Maybe you," Joey replied sweetly, "need to learn it sometimes
helps, you tight ass."
"My ass isn’t tight!" Justin insisted, but Joey was too busy
laughing to apologise.
~~~
Justin didn’t bother to ask JC, because he was still mad at JC, though he
wouldn’t be tomorrow. That was the plan, anyway. It wasn’t any fun being mad
at JC. He never noticed.
Like all his real days off, Justin dicked around and got nothing done.
He napped. He locked himself in the bathroom (the acoustics were better) and
used Joey’s karaoke machine. He made arrangements with his mom for her to go
over to Britney’s house and get his stuff and then he’d cried a little in
her ear over the phone, telling her she didn’t need to come, that he was fine.
Later, Justin lay in bed and thought about Lance. Lance, who Justin has
actually kissed once, when he was sixteen and Lance was eighteen, and they’d
both been drunk. In an ideal world, they would have fucked, but Justin had been
too nervous to even think about doing it.
Justin was tempted to phone Lance up, to talk to him and maybe yell at him
for giving Justin such a lousy break-up present and for taking Justin’s mind
off Britney and for making Justin think about what sex with Lance would be like,
how hot it would be, how hard he’d come.
Justin sat up, and opened his suitcase, grabbing one of the books from JC,
the one with the man on the cover whose belly was flat and tanned and looked a
little like Lance’s. It was so unhealthy, that Justin was even let himself
think of Lance like that, but it made him feel better.
After half an hour of reading, Justin took off his shirt, slithered out of
his pants and whisked down his briefs. It felt good to be naked while reading
smut, his cock hard against his thigh. He read, carefully turning each page, and
occasionally reached down to stroke his dick.
Around the middle, when it was just getting really good and it looked like
the repressed young aristocrat was finally going to let the handsome young
servant boy into his bed, Justin put the book down and got the double-headed
dildo instead. In the bathroom, he scrubbed it clean.
When Justin had been seventeen, right before he hooked up with Britney
full-time, he had gone through this period where all he had wanted to do was
stick things up his ass. Around that time, Lance had been fucked for the first
time, so maybe there was some correlation, but the fact remained that Justin had
quite joyfully fucked himself in the butt with anything he could find.
It’d been a while, though, since he’d had the urge. Sure, sometimes,
Britney had used her fingers, but she’d been mostly unwilling to clip her
nails, and Justin hadn’t like that too much. So lying there on his back,
carefully slicking a condom on one head of a plastic dick, it felt good.
It felt like everything had before Britney.
Justin closed his eyes, thinking about a dashing aristocrat and his handsome
manservant, and concentrated on breathing and pushing out while a slippery hand
urged the lotion-coated dildo in, missing a few times before it finally worked.
It was bigger than anything Justin had ever tried before, but Lance had been
reasonable about the size, which was, in itself, pretty surprising.
Justin lifted his knees then opened them wide, curling his toes into the
sheets for leverage. Slowly, he fucked himself, and imagined hot
aristocrat/manservant sex and wasn’t surprised, really, when his daydream
shifted into him and Lance, on his bed, fucking each other. Justin didn’t know
exactly how it would work and really didn’t care because it was so damn hot.
So damn hot that he came a heartbeat later, covering his chest, his hand, his
book with come. When Justin thought his legs would hold him, he stood up and
went to the bathroom, where he ruefully washed everything off. Justin then
finished reading, wrinkly pages and all.
~~~
"Even though you didn’t ask me," JC said the next time Justin saw
him, "I’m gonna give you my opinion on the whole Lance dildo thing."
Justin pursed his lips together, waiting for JC to get the hell on with it, and
was then mildly disappointed. "Man, I concur with Chris and Joey. Lance is
a literal kinda dude, J, and he never really learned the art of double meaning.
You dig?"
Justin rolled his eyes, but he forgave JC anyway. Justin was feeling pretty
calm about the whole thing, because if there was one thing Lance knew how to do,
it was casual sex, and that was something Justin had never really mastered. Most
morning-afters, he wanted to get married.
And if nothing else, Justin couldn’t possibly feel much worse than he
already did.
Lance came back three hours before they were set to go onstage in Denver,
looking tired and pale but happy, too. "I think I gave half my blood to
Russia," Justin heard Lance saying to a Joey, who swooped in like a hero
and offered his shoulder before Justin could even get near him.
Justin went about his day, fiddling with the soundboard until he was yelled
at by no less than three sound techs. At the catering table, he made his own
stack of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner then had a bowl of
Captain Crunch. He pissed, brushed his teeth, dozed.
When he woke up, Lance was sitting on the opposite couch, watching him.
"You feeling all right?" Justin asked immediately, because Lance
looked even worse.
"I’m okay," Lance replied. "A little Russian torture is
nothing I can’t handle."
Justin smiled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, then casually checked for
drool.
Lance lifted his eyebrows. "But enough about me. Are you okay?"
"Yeah," Justin said. "I mean, better, anyway. I, um, took your
present for a test drive."
Lance grinned. "Oh, yeah? Solo?"
"Unfortunately," Justin said, and tried to make it sound sultry and
sexy, batting his eyelids a little, wetting his lips. He didn’t even mind too
much when Lance laughed at him. "Do you want to, um. You know. Maybe you
could show me, like, everything it does. Maybe?"
"Not tonight," Lance said, and Justin must have put his
disappointment on display because Lance was quick to add, "but give me a
day or two? I don’t think I have enough blood left in me to get a hard-on, and
that would sort of put a damper on the whole thing, you know."
Justin smiled. His relief was practically tangible. "Okay," he
said.
"Okay," Lance echoed.
And it was only a little bit awkward after that.
~~~
Chris, Joey and JC got it into their heads that going to a strip club in Des
Moines would make Justin feel better. Spitefully, Justin wore his I’m-with-stupid
hoodie and made a point to stand beside them as often as humanly possible. He
ended up playing pool with Lance all night.
Lance went to get them some beers, and when he came back, he said, "I’m
recovered."
"Okay," Justin said, lamely. He knew what Lance meant without
having to ask.
It was a little harder to win at pool after that, but Justin managed. By the
time Chris, Joey and JC had worn themselves out on tits and ass, Lance owed
Justin upwards of nine thousand dollars. Chris, Joey and Chris ended up in one
car, Justin and Lance in the other. The ride back to the hotel in Ames was
torturously long. It took thirty-nine minutes, and twenty-seven seconds.
Not that Justin was counting or anything.
Of course he wasn’t.
~~~
The problem with having friends who knew everything about your sex life was
that sometimes they killed the moment before it ever happened. Not that night,
though. Chris slapped Justin on the ass and said, "good night, baby,"
but that was practically par for course.
Justin made a mental note to forgive them all for the strip club by the next
morning.
They stopped at Lance’s room for lube, since Lance was practical and
thoughtful and, mostly importantly, was known to break out in hives when exposed
to Justin’s hand lotion. Inwardly, Justin battled himself. It was stupid, that
he was even doing this, but it was Lance.
It was Lance.
Inside his own room, Justin didn’t know what to say or how to start it. He
stared at his feet. He forgot, in the span of five minutes, how to even have
sex. The good thing about Lance, which Justin did remember, was that
Lance had always been the type of guy to just do it.
Lance was a Nike commercial.
When Justin looked up, Lance was standing in front of them. He put his hands
on Justin’s hips and leaned forward, his face lifted up towards him. Justin
bowed his head and put his lips carefully against Lance’s, opening them when
Lance opened his, letting Lance’s tongue inside.
Justin put his hands on Lance’s neck, just below the jut of his jaw, on
either side. It was a slow, deliberate type of kissing. Lance’s stubble
scraped over his chin, rough like sandpaper, and Justin thought to himself,
quite stupidly at that, whoa, I’m kissing a guy, and that blew his
mind.
Justin found himself kissing Lance like it was all that stood between them
and certain doom. He dropped his hands to Lance’s waist, slipping under his
shirt, mapping the smooth skin of Lance’s back with his fingertips. Lance
chuckled lowly in his ear, sounding almost startled.
"It’s been a while, huh?"
"Yes," Justin said. "It’s been for-fucking-ever. Like, shit,
I can feel your fucking dick."
"Surprise, I have one," Lance replied, and Lance’s dorkiness just
turned Justin on more.
Justin kissed all over Lance’s neck then down to his chest, mouthing each
pert nipple. Lance’s abs quivered gently, and Justin kissed each of them, too.
On his knees, Justin struggled with Lance’s zipper then finally, blissfully,
got his pants open. He wasn’t wearing underwear.
"Lance," Justin said, and that was it. Just Lance’s boring name,
and Lance didn’t reply, because Justin put Lance’s dick in his mouth and
started sucking with enthusiasm. It’d been so damn long since he’d last
sucked dick that Justin had worried he’d forgotten how, but he hadn’t.
No fucking way had he forgotten how.
~~~
After Lance came, they undressed quickly. Justin stood there, naked, and just
stared at Lance, whose dick was still semi-hard and still damp from Justin’s
mouth. Justin turned away and got out the double-headed dildo then he held it
out, like he didn’t know what to do with it.
And really, he wasn’t sure he did.
One person was easy; two was a bit more complicated.
Thankfully, Lance took the dildo and immediately slicked condoms down either
side of it.
"Climb up," Lance finally said, putting the palm of his hand
against one of Justin’s bare ass cheeks and leading him to the bed. Justin got
onto his hands and knees, and felt like a tool. He yelped a little when he felt
Lance’s fingers slick against him, pushing cold lube inside him.
"You’ve done this before?" Justin asked, "this double-headed
dildo thing?"
"No," Lance said simply. "I saw it in a movie once, though.
That movie about heroin?"
"That was chicks," Justin replied, "and it was pretty fucking
traumatic for them."
"Well, we’re neither chicks nor heroin addicts, so it’ll be okay.
Now hush." Lance’s fingers pulled out of Justin, and when he looked over
his shoulder, he could see Lance working lube between his own legs. Immediately,
Justin’s cock, which had wilted slightly, recovered.
It should have been practical and uncomfortable, like a trip to the doctor’s,
but it didn’t feel like that at all. Not with one of Lance’s arms around
Justin’s waist, Lance’s cheek rubbing roughly between Justin’s
shoulder-blades, as he slowly fed one end of the dildo into Justin’s ass.
Justin moaned a little, helplessly, and Lance chuckled, "you should see
how it looks."
Lance kissed down Justin’s spine then he was gone. Justin clenched
nervously around the dildo then looked back over his shoulder to Lance, who was
getting in position. Lance, Justin noticed, had a really nice ass from that
angle. Nice balls, too. And his dick, that was also nice.
Justin watched as Lance grabbed his end of the dildo and led it inside him,
the way he opened to take it, the pulse of the dark muscle there. Lance’s legs
were rubbing against the outsides of Justin’s calves as Lance moved closer,
inch by inch, until their knees finally met.
"You good?" Lance asked, and Justin made some sort of affirmative
noise in his throat.
When Lance began moving his hips, Justin followed, and it wasn’t long
before he took the lead and Lance mimicked him instead. Lance never had been one
for natural rhythm, not for as long as Justin had known him, but that didn’t
matter here. Everything Lance did felt just great.
When his arms got too wobbly to hold him up, Justin dropped his shoulders to
the bed and snaked one hand to his cock. He laughed a little, breathlessly, when
he felt Lance’s fingers. They held hands like that for a few minutes, their
balls rubbing over the soft skin of their wrists.
"Can we?" Justin said then cocked his hips, which was enough
explanation for Lance, who nodded. In complete synchronicity, they rolled over
onto their backs and wiggled closer. The minute Lance’s perfectly manicured
feet came close enough, Justin stuck them under his armpits and started moving
his hands up and down the length of Lance’s fuzzy legs.
This way felt much, much better.
They probably looked like idiots, but Justin couldn’t care, not when it
felt so incredible. The knot they were tied up felt so intimate, so safe. They
undulated sluttishly on the bed, the dildo an unbreakable chain between them,
slipping deeper into Justin at times, pulling out at others, never more than
half an inch either way, but it felt like much more. Their asses touched.
One of Lance’s hands curled around Justin’s cock and began to stroke it.
Justin bucked up helplessly, which caused Lance to moan out loud, sounding
desperate and impossibly turned on. Lance sounded exactly like Justin felt, and
Justin echoed it all, moving his hips faster and faster.
"God," Lance said, the muscles in his calves wobbling against
Justin’s rib cage, and his hand worked even more furiously between Justin’s
legs until, with a strangled cry, Justin arched up and came so hard that he
couldn’t breathe through it, could only mew until the orgasm passed.
Justin lay there, panting, unable to speak.
He thought, maybe, he’d swallowed his own tongue.
~~~
It probably should have ended right there. Lance had given him the best
present, the end, but then Lance’s smiling face showed up between Justin’s
legs, and Justin reached for him. They kissed lazily, lying side by side,
threaded together at the knees. Justin couldn’t keep his hands off him.
Eventually, Lance ended up leaning over him, fitting himself between Justin’s
parted legs.
"Is this okay?" Justin asked quietly, holding out a condom. Lance
took it.
Lance grinned, tearing the packet open with his teeth then sliding the condom
over his dick. It was bigger, Justin noticed, than the dildo had been, and that
though excited him wildly. "It’s been a while, but I think I remember how
it goes. I’m not that great at it, just to warn you."
If that was bad ass-fucking, Justin wasn’t sure he wanted to feel good
ass-fucking. He wouldn’t be able to handle it, no way. He clung to Lance, his
arms wrapped around Lance’s shoulders, and panted wildly in Lance’s ear,
Justin’s ankles crossed at the back of Lance’s thighs.
"Fuck me, fuck me," Justin kept saying, uncontrollably, as Lance
slid in and out.
"Will do," Lance kept replying, smiling huge against Justin’s
mouth.
~~~
Later, Justin cried bitterly against Lance’s throat, curled around him so
tightly that Justin wondered later how Lance had even been able to breathe. Lance
just lay there and took it, not saying anything, thank god, but just keeping his
arms tightly wrapped around Justin’s shoulders.
Justin woke up in the same position, his eyelids crusted together, his
eyeballs feeling like sandpaper. Worse, when he moved, his ass cheeks slicked
and slipped against each other, and the feel of that banished all the crap away.
Lance was already up, playing Snake on his phone.
"Joey’s got breakfast in his room, if you’re up for it," Lance
said without turning around.
Justin cracked his back. "Shit, I’m starving, man. That would be
awesome."
"Shower’s open," Lance said, looking back over his shoulder,
"and lord, you need it."
"Fuck off," Justin said, laughing as he stood, putting his hands on
Lance’s bare shoulders. He bent over and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. It
seemed like the proper thing to do. Lance looked up at him and smiled, bobbing
his head slightly, like he understood what Justin meant.
And Justin thought he probably did.
Fin.