Like the Ramones
Chris barely has the door closed before Lance starts peeling out of his shirt. He's hot and sticky and his feet kind of hurt. Not enough to keep the smile off his face when he looks at Chris, still wired from the pound of the crowd and the music. And even though the leather's chaffing slightly, it's really easy to slide against Chris and take advantage of post-show euphoria. Lance thinks he really loves this thing they got going. Not just the Friday night excursions to whatever mosh pit they can find, but the everything that's been coming with it for the last month.
"I really hope you were serious about what you said in the car before."
Chris detaches his mouth from Lance's neck long enough to raise an eyebrow at him and grunt something like a question before he's nipping along Lance's collarbone, hands making quick work of the buttons on Lance's shirt, then ghosting inside to stroke heated skin.
Lance winces slightly and drags a hand between them, covering Chris's and guiding it down away from his ribs towards his hips. "You're not gonna get out of it that easily."
"Out of what?" Chris palms Lance's hips, pulling him closer, sliding a leg between Lance's and rubbing against him. He kisses his way along Lance's chin, pulling his lip into his mouth.
Lance moans softly, his arms sliding around Chris's waist and pulling closer. "You said we could," rolls his hips, grinding suggestively against Chris's groin. "That I could..."
"Fuck," Chris bites down on Lance's lip, tugs at it. "Jesus, those hips are lethal." He starts to stagger toward the bed, his hands hot on Lance's back now. "I. Yeah. Whatever you want. Anything you want."
Lance laughs against Chris's mouth, Chris's words a definite head rush that's leaving him almost giddy. He's pretty sure he doesn't want to rush any of this, but it's really no time at all before Chris is climbing back towards the pillows with Lance following closely between his legs and nipping at the waistband of Chris's pants.
It's Chris's turn to laugh, grinning down at Lance. "Eager much?" But the truth is, he wants this more than he's wanted to admit to himself, he's been waiting for it, waiting for Lance to be ready. He rests his head on his hands, smirking. "Was there something you wanted?"
Lance pulls up and sits back on his heels. He fingers the laces on Chris's pants, raising his brows almost smugly. "Uh-huh. Think maybe," he tugs lightly on one of the strings and loosens the knot. "I wanna get you outta these." He adds a second hand to ease the pants open and then work them over Chris's hips.
"Awfully sure of yourself, aren't you?" Chris lifts his hips, arching his back to help Lance get his pants off. He pulls a knee up, allowing his legs to spread, open and obscenely inviting.
Lance licks his lips just watching for a moment before he looks up to meet Chris's eyes. "I..." he snakes closer, hands falling to the inside of Chris's thighs just above his knees. He slides them up slowly, thumbs curling under and against the blanket beneath them.
Chris closes his eyes, shuddering. "I want you," he whispers, raising his hands over his head and gripping the headboard, rocking into Lance's touch. "You have no idea."
Lance looks to his hands, "You have to... tell me."
"C'mere," Chris murmurs, pulling Lance up so Lance is resting on top of him, kissing him, soft and deep. "No worries." He reaches over and grabs a bottle of lube from the bedside table, pressing it into Lance's hand.
"I don't wanna..." Lance wraps his hand around the bottle and squeezes briefly before setting it down again. He twists away from Chris just long enough to shake out of his own pants before he straddles Chris's waist, leaning down and ghosting a kiss over Chris's lips. He nudges back just slightly, feeling the insistent press of Chris's dick against his ass and eyes the bottle before picking it up again. "Show me."
There's so much heat, and Lance feels incredible, so much so that Chris has to bite his lip and fight to keep still. He flips open the bottle and takes Lance's hand into his, coating his fingers. "One first," he murmurs, smiling at Lance. "Take your time."
"My time," Lance nods, rubbing his fingers together and learning how they slide against each other. He eases back, dropping his head to swipe one long lick over Chris's cock, before he spreads Chris's legs. He wishes he wasn't so nervous, that he actually knew what it was he was doing. And he closes his eyes, fumbling slightly as his slick fingers slide slowly beneath Chris's balls and along the ridge of flesh behind. Lance has to remind himself to breath every now and then, especially when he slides his fingers wetly over Chris's asshole, then circles it with one. He bites down on his bottom lip as his eyes open again and he looks to Chris entreatingly.
"It's okay," Chris whispers, reaching down and brushing light fingers along Lance's face. He rocks down against Lance's finger, urging him on. "You're not going to hurt me. I promise. I want to feel you, Lance. I know you want it, too." Truth be told, he'd been fantasizing about it for weeks, and now, this close. He thinks he might break something if Lance decides not to go through with this.
Lance exhales sharply and bites down a little harder as he rounds his finger again and then presses slowly inside. The resistance is strange and he only thinks he gets it, but Chris is moving with him and Lance circles around the edges, feeling Chris relax against him.
"Yeah, that's. Yeah," Chris sighs, eyes fluttering shut then open again. He moves on Lance's finger, trying to get it deeper, trying to feel more. Then Lance hits his prostate, accident, yeah, but it's incredible all the same and Chris moans his appreciation, writhing under Lance's touch.
An amazed sort of smile crosses Lance's lips as he watches Chris and the way his body is responding to this, just one little finger, and Lance wants to do it again, whatever he did that made Chris's whole demeanor change. He pulls out then and squeezes two together before swallowing and easing them both back, thinking aloud, "I could just watch you."
"Oh, hell no," Chris moans, pushing back against Lance's fingers. "I want all of you." It's good, it's really good, and Lance is starting to get a feel for this, Chris thinks, and then Lance is, intentional or not, pretty much massaging Chris's prostate and it's all Chris can do not to leap off the bed and come right then.
Feeling encouraged, Lance spreads his fingers slightly and Chris's body responds to that, opening and then pulling him further inside. He wonders how hot it'll be against his dick; he wonders how the hell he's going to be able to do this when more turned on than he'd been even that first night with Chris when he barely made it to five seconds. And still, he finds himself pulling up closer, asking, "We got condoms, right?"
"Bedside table," Chris gasps, reaching for Lance, pulling him close for a kiss, mewling into his mouth. "Jesus, please. Like, soon, okay?" His hands trail down Lance's back until he anchors them, thrusting up into him. "Please."
Lance eases his fingers out and away and leans forward, smacking his hand against the drawer on the table, barely managing to get it open. He gets sidetracked between searching for the condoms and kissing Chris and it isn't until Chris presses hard against him that he picks up the search again and pulls out the light blue box. Lance kisses Chris again before he sits back on his heels and pulls a condom from the box, tossing the box to the bed beside them and ripping open the foil, feeling the whole time like he would burst at any minute. He's slow as he eases the latex over his achingly hard cock, lifting Chris's thighs slightly, pulling them to his waist. He crawls up over Chris's chest, holding himself up with his hands on either side of Chris, pausing only to hold out a hand, "More stuff?"
Chris nods, running restless fingers over Lance's chest, along his cheeks, before he reaches over and drizzles more lube onto Lance's fingers. "Take your time, okay?" He bites his lip as he watches Lance, trying to get a handle on himself, because he's no blushing virgin but the foreplay, the preparation, Lance's obvious excitement and the fact that it's Lance - they all add up to one seriously over-stimulated Kirkpatrick, and Chris isn't quite sure he's going to be able to hang on.
Lance palms the liquid over the condom, slicking it up. He crawls that much closer, biting down on his lip as he positions himself and presses forward slowly, reminding himself to breath and take his time.
Chris pushes up on his feet, rises to meet Lance, to make it easier, yes, but also because he's pretty damn eager. He hooks his arms around Lance's neck, watching him, breathless.
"Oh Jesus... I can't..." the words fade as Lance squeezes his eyes shut. The further he moves, the hotter it gets and Chris is so tight around him and he can feel everything as Chris shudders beneath him. He stops, he has to once he's there, balls deep and as close as he thinks he can ever get. He lets his head fall to Chris's shoulder and he pulls in a breath, forcing himself not to let go too soon, not let this end, like, ever. It takes only a minute, maybe two, before Lance licks his lips, lifts his head and starts moving.
"You can," Chris gasps. "You fucking *are*." He groans, kissing and stroking any skin he can touch, his eyes sweeping along Lance's body. Gorgeous, absolutely stunning, from the long pale line of his body to the flush that's started to color his cheeks and work its way down. Chris's body meets Lance's in a quickening beat, his fingers digging into Lance's shoulders as he arches up to meet him. "God."
"It's," Lance almost chokes, "so g-good, Chris." It feels almost seamless, the smooth rocking of his hips, the heaviness in his belly and the long, slow burn inching down his spine. Lance thinks he's only moments from losing it completely, moments till his arms buckle and he falls, just tumbles down onto Chris, further into Chris, and it's everything he can do to keep pressing and ride it out until his body's seizing and tensing and he's crying out Chris's name fiercely.
A few strokes of his cock and Chris is coming, too, bucking up against Lance's stomach, pulling him down on top of him until they're nothing more than a tangle of arms and legs and lips. Chris struggles for air, holding Lance close.
Lance thinks that maybe he broke something, that maybe he lost consciousness along the way and the heavy boneless exhaustion is all due to some short circuit in his brain from coming too hard. He thinks, as he pulls away just long enough to get rid of the condom, that maybe he read about that somewhere, in some magazine that maybe some lunatic fanatics put out, but it's there, thick in his mouth and he can barely open it enough to say, "wow."
Chris laughs, light and easy. "Liked that, huh?" He nuzzles Lance's neck, then closes his teeth over soft, flushed skin. "You've got some moves, Bass."
Lance can't help but smile back, "It's all the dancing."
"Practice makes perfect, don't forget." Chris runs a hand down Lance's back.
"So, we'll get to practice that again real soon, then?"
Chris rolls his eyes. "Jesus. Let me catch my breath."
Lance laughs as he runs playful fingers over Chris's slowly cooling skin, "Catch it quick, okay?"
Chris catches Lance's fingers, bringing them to his mouth. He kisses Lance's palm before he pulls one of the fingers into his mouth. "I'm beginning to suspect you're just using me for my body. Not that I'm complaining."
"G-good, that's," Lance's smile fades slowly as he watches Chris's mouth. His eyes roll as he feels Chris's tongue swirl over his fingers and he groans. He slips his fingers from Chris's mouth and drags them lightly over Chris's lips, before replacing them with this own. "Oh, that's... love your body, Chris."
Chris's teeth are sharp against Lance's lips, his laughter surprisingly deep as he drags his nails down along Lance's arms. "I'm glad I'm not boring you yet."
Lance nipped lightly at Chris's lip before he smiled and teased, "I'm not so much worried about you boring me as much as you keeping up."
Chris's hands trail lower, down Lance's back, cupping his ass as he arches up into him. "You have a lot to learn."
Lance's breath catches for a moment and he ducks his head into the crook of Chris's neck, exhaling, "That's the idea."
"It was a good show tonight," Chris's voice is only slightly softer than his hands, working their way up and down Lance's back. "You looked at home in the pit."
"Quick study," Lance closes his eyes, relaxing into the touch.
Chris mouths along Lance's shoulder, up his neck. "You're gonna wind up with bruises if you're not careful."
"I think it's too late to warn me about that," Lance tilts his head just slightly, inviting Chris further.
Chris's tongue dips out, tracing along the ridge of Lance's ear. "God, you're beautiful."
It tickles a little and Lance curls slightly, hand grasping at Chris's hip. "You don't have to keep saying that."
Chris rolls into the touch, his tongue seeking out more of Lance's heated skin. "But you are. You should see the way people look at you. At the shows. When we're out."
"No, I-I," Lance grips a little tighter, pulling just a little closer, and drops his voice to tease again. "They're just lookin' cuz they're jealous that I got the hottest piece of ass in the joint."
Chris bites down, then, tugging on skin, marking Lance's neck. "You do have the hottest ass, yeah."
"Not," Lance groans, "fuck, Chris. And you're worried about the pit?"
"You want me to stop?" Chris whispers, voice surprisingly low.
"Yeah," Lance almost scoffs as he presses his re-emerging hard-on against Chris's thigh, "Like never."
Chris rolls them over in one fluid motion, sucking another mark low under Lance's collarbone. "Good. Not planning on it."
"Make-up is gonna wonder where all this is coming from," Lance squirms a little beneath Chris's weight.
"Tell them you're dating, finally." Chris's mouth moves lower.
"Tell'em... yeah," Lance's breath catches in anticipation for a moment. "Good answer."
"Tell them it's serious." Chris's voice is soft, even deeper, his mouth dragging wetly across Lance's stomach.
"Oh," Lance sighs as he closes his eyes. "Seriously serious, then?" he pulls in his stomach, almost freezing with each swipe of Chris's lips.
"As a heart attack," Chris whispers, his tongue dipping into Lance's navel as he runs his thumbs over Lance's hips. "Pretty serious, yeah."
Lance pulls up slightly, leaning on his elbows so he can watch Chris. "Serious enough to... um... do that to me?"
Chris freezes, because shit. He was rather hoping to avoid that question, at least for now. There are a few things he can do here. Go down on Lance, hope he forgets. Kiss Lance and shut him up, hope he forgets. Or beg him to fuck him again, and hope he forgets. Not that he doesn't want to have sex with Lance, because, um. Yeah. He does. In a major way. It's just that it's Lance. And Chris knows his mom. Really well. He doesn't want to hurt him.
Chris kisses his way back up Lance's chest, rolling them over again so Lance is back on top. "I thought you wanted more practice."
"You know me," Lance pulls up, sliding down Chris's waist until his ass brushes against Chris's dick. "I wanna do it all. Everything at least once."
"I'm ready for you twice," Chris says, pulling at Lance's shoulders. "C'mon."
Lance eyes Chris before he reaches over to grab the condoms. He pulls back and kneels between Chris's legs as he gets a condom out and opened and rolls it carefully over himself. "Next time," he murmurs, his hands spreading Chris's legs, "Okay?"
Chris leans up, kissing Lance hard. "Want you. Don't make me wait, okay?" He lies back on the pillows, bucking up against him.
"Do I have to," Lance stops edging closer. "Is it okay, right after like this?"
"I'm good. You're not going to hurt me, baby, I swear."
Lance nods then and takes up the lube. He runs a slick hand over his cock before working himself close and easing back inside. It's not like before, but still tight and still amazing and Lance bites his tongue as he moves this time with little hesitation.
"Yeah, you, uh. You're good at this." Chris moves with Lance, their bodies slapping together. He does his best not to make too much noise, biting down on his lip as Lance twists his hips a little. "Jesus."
Lance grins down at Chris before dropping his head. His tongue squeezes between his lips as he closes his eyes and concentrates on the sensation, on the feeling of Chris's body rising to meet his, at the way Chris pulls him in and tightens around him. And God, he thinks and whispers, "Could do this forever."
Chris's eyes are open, watching, drinking in Lance. The way he moves, the way he looks, it's unbelievable. Chris has never wanted like this, never had anyone this close in this capacity. "Yes," he breathes. "Please do."
Lance shoots a quick glance at Chris's face. His heart pounds in quick, deep thuds beneath his skin and it feels as if his chest constricts, closes up and pushes down through his belly until he's gritting his teeth, dropping his head again, and coming.
"Gorgeous like that," Chris murmurs, his eyes falling shut as he snakes a hand between them, taking his cock into his hand. "Way you look. Way you sound. God."
Lance sighs as he shudders to a still and then eases away. He watches Chris's face as he covers Chris's hand with his, his fingers falling between Chris's, and starts moving with him. "Wanna watch you."
Chris lets out a shaky breath, nodding, because yeah, that's pretty damn hot and Lance's hand feels incredible. "Yours," he chokes out before he comes, moving up into their joined hands with a cry.
*
Chris lets himself into the hotel room, dropping a couple bags on the floor. It's been a long day, and tomorrow is going to be longer. His stomach hurts just thinking about it. MTV. Holy shit. He strips out of his clothes and heads into the bathroom, getting into the shower.
Lance waits until everyone's had sufficient time to get settled in their rooms before he tells Joey he's going out again. He feels kind of bad that he can't tell Joey what's going on. Joey is, after all, his best friend, and while Joey never pushes him to talk about stuff, he notices a lot more than anyone gives him credit for. And Lance thinks it's gotta be hard not to notice the perma-smile that's been set on his face for the last couple of months. And while things might be getting just a little weird, Lance guesses that Joey's just waiting him out.
Lance lets himself into Chris's room quietly and almost trips over his bag once he's inside the door. He curses quietly but perks up when he hears the shower running. He takes a moment to consider his options, because Chris in the shower is definitely something new and something they don't get to take advantage of in Orlando.
Before Lance can think on it further, the rush of water is gone and the decision is made for him. So Lance peels out of his clothes quickly and pulls the blankets down. He slides onto the bed, lying on his stomach with his chin resting on folded arms.
Chris dries off quickly, wrapping the towel around his waist before he heads out into the bedroom. He'd figured Lance would show up eventually, but he isn't prepared for the sight before him, Lance stretched out on the bed. Chris swallows, licking his lips. "Good evening, Mr. Bass. You're looking well."
Lance smiles, doing his very best to keep from laughing out of sheer giddiness. "You think so, Mr. Kirkpatrick? Because I really wasn't sure if this was a good look for me."
Chris advances on the bed, resting a knee against the mattress. "On the contrary. Naked is pretty much the way I'd have you all the time.
"You're just sayin' that so that I might let you have your wicked way with me."
"Or vice versa." Chris reaches out, trailing a hand along Lance's leg. "I'm pretty easy when it comes to guys with fishy last names."
Lance scrunches up his nose, "Dork." He then tilts his head and grins. "So, I'm all yours. Whatever will you do with me?"
Chris drops his towel, sliding into bed beside Lance, dropping kisses along the pale expanse of his back. "I don't know. Maybe you can give me some suggestions by showing me what you want to do with me."
"You know what I want."
"Mmm." Chris falls onto his back, pulling Lance on top of him. "I'm all yours."
"I know that, Chris," Lance says quietly, dropping a kiss on Chris's chin before pulling back. "You've made that abundantly clear. I," he watches as he trails a finger along the shell of Chris's ear before he looks back into Chris's eyes, "I want to be yours."
"You are," Chris swallows, shivering. "Absolutely."
"Chris," Lance almost huffs, "Please?"
Chris lifts his head, kissing Lance, cutting off his words, hoping for distraction.
Lance feels lost for a moment, totally hooked on this taste and the feel of Chris's mouth on his. He pulls in Chris's breath, knows it now as well as his own and craves it even in his sleep. He thinks that it's enough, to go on like this, but there's still so much of him that's curious, that wants to do it all and feel it with Chris. And it's that that has him pulling up and away, shaking his head. "What's wrong with me that you won't?"
"Lance, Jesus," Chris pants, resting his head on Lance's shoulder. "You know there's not a damn thing wrong with you." He feathers kisses along Lance's collarbone. "I'm awfully partial."
Lance pulls back even further, shaking his head no. "I don't understand."
Chris pulls him back, running his finger through Lance's hair. "C'mon."
"No," Lance stiffens for a moment. "No. I don't. I want it to be both ways. I want to know, want you to and you won't. You keep putting me off."
"It's not," Chris sighs, falling back against the pillows. "I'm sorry. It's not that I don't want to, Lance."
Lance keeps his gaze cast down, away from Chris. "I'm not a child, Chris. New at this, yes, but not a fucking child. And I want to do it all, with you."
Chris rolls onto his side, watching Lance. "Hey. Look at me, okay?"
Lance shakes his head no again.
Chris heaves another sigh, pushing Lance onto his back and rolling on top of him. "Will you look at me now?"
Lance squeezes his eyes shut first, but then opens up to meet Chris, an indignant pout playing on his lips.
"Jesus," Chris groans. "Okay. Just." He blows hair out of his face. "I don't want to hurt you. A long time ago I promised your mom I wouldn't let anything happen to you and you're no kid but you're also young and. We don't need to go so fast."
"On what curve exactly are we grading this as fast?"
"Did I say you could talk?"
"I thought you were finished, please go on."
"I just. Don't want to rush you. And, uh. Also I want it to be good for you and I may suck. Not that I've had any complaints but there's a first for everything and really, Lance. It's good like this, right?"
"I can talk now?"
Chris rolls his eyes.
"Of course it's good, Chris. I just. I want to do more. I want so much it fucking hurts inside."
Chris bites his lip. "Lance..."
"Look," Lance starts to shove Chris away, "If that's not. If it's not how it is, fine, whatever. Just don't," he rolls away and gets to his feet. He looks at Chris, meeting his eyes. "Don't fuck with me."
Chris sits up. "I'm not. I haven't been. You can't possibly think that's all this is, Lance. Jesus." His stomach churns. He thinks he's found a way to fuck up something that was about as close to good as he's ever going to get. Typical.
"I won't break. All this time with Lou hasn't..." Lance feels his cheeks burning and he finally breaks eye contact.
"Hasn't what, Lance?" Chris gets up, crossing to Lance.
"Still in one piece. Not some fragile little flower. Not what they say I am. You should know that."
"I know. Baby, I know. Lance. This, us." Chris searches for the words. "It's maybe more real than just about everything else in my life right now. I just. I don't want to mess it up."
"How can that mess things up, Chris? It shouldn't... I mean," Lance sighs heavily. "I just want to be with you. It's pretty scary how much, but I just do. I don't know how that can mess it up."
"Okay," Chris opens his eyes, taking Lance's hands in his . "Okay."
"But it's not. Okay, is it?"
"It is." Chris leans forward, kissing him softly. "You don't know how badly I've wanted it."
Lance closes his eyes, leaning into the kiss momentarily. "There's this place I read about in Jersey, down the shore. We're gonna be in New York a few days and Friday we could, The Ramones are playin'."
Chris smiles against Lance's lips, his hands tightening around Lance's back. "They'll blow you away."
Lance's own smile meets Chris's as he finally lifts his hands to Chris's waist. "That's a yes, then?"
"You don't even have to ask."
*
It's a little over an hour from The Stone Pony back to the City. Lance taps his foot to the floor of the car, the adrenalin still pumping. He looks over at Chris and watches his hands as they drum intently against the steering wheel. He'd been right and the Ramones had blown him away and he had the split lip to prove it. He couldn't help feeling a little relieved, even in the haze of his mind, that they'd done their gig with MTV and had nothing pressing on their schedule.Lance watches the blur of the Garden State Parkway fly by as his foot continues to tap.
Chris smiles, glancing over, reaching out and brushing his thumb softly over Lance's lip. "Battle scars. You're official now." He turns back to the road, his hand falling to Lance's thigh, stroking lightly.
Lance licks at his lip but grins almost proudly, "I'm all initiated now, but where's there to go after you've been pounded by a crowd like that?"
"The hotel," Chris grins, his eyes glittering in the dark car. "I'm sure we can find something to do." He pauses, watching traffic. "It was good?"
"Oh hell yeah. I wasn't expecting... the sound's just not the same and a different energy in the crowd. I could feel that. And," Lance covers Chris's hand with his. "I have no doubt we can find something to do. I meant other bands. It's like unless it's the Sex Pistols, anything else just won't measure up."
Chris brings Lance's hand to his mouth, sucking on a knuckle. "You've come a long way."
"Yeah well," Lance watches Chris's mouth, "when I get into something, I go all out."
Chris's tongue darts out, licks at salty skin before he lets go of Lance's hand for the approach to the hotel. "Good to know."
Lance pulls his hand back to his lap and waits until they're parked and the engine is off before he slides across the seat towards Chris. He cups Chris's cheek, turning his face towards him and then kisses him soft and long and with very little tongue.
Chris closes his eyes, lets himself enjoy the hot press of lips and Lance's body for a moment. It's changed somehow, in ways that are bigger than Lance's cut lip. If things were different, if they were back in Orlando and not on the edge of something big Chris would have pushed Lance into the backseat then and there. He pulls away reluctantly, stroking Lance's cheek. "Upstairs, you think?"
Lance nods, "Yeah. Just," he leans in and kisses again, "wanted to do that all fucking night."
"It's getting harder and harder not to," Chris smiles wistfully, getting out of the car.
Lance slides out Chris's side and presses against his back. "We'll probably have to watch then, huh?"
Chris shudders, leaning back against Lance. "Jesus."
Lance nips at Chris's ear, "You gotta walk. C'mon," he nudges Chris forward with a hand at the small of Chris's back.
"When did you get the upper hand here?" Chris murmurs, but he's smiling, head down as they head for the elevators.
"Upper hand has very little to do with it. Just know I'm not getting any in the parking lot," Lance grins but follows, his hand moving to Chris's hip.
Chris can't stop smiling, his eyes crinkling as he looks from Lance to the ground before the doors swing open and they step inside. Lance is, well. He's pretty clearly coming into his own, and even if he has nothing to do with that, Chris is happy to see it.
Lance leans against the back wall of the elevator, his foot tapping again. He watches Chris for a moment before he turns his eyes to the buttons lighting up as they ascend each floor. "Have you ever have sex in an elevator?"
Chris covers his mouth with his hand, but it does nothing to hide the amusement in his eyes. "Is there a right or wrong answer here?"
"I don't want to throw down with you right here and now, but I'm kinda curious and all."
"Yeah, I have," Chris flushes. He hates that. "Yes."
Lance swallows, "Wow. That's," he looks around the elevator. "How was that?"
"Rushed." Chris rubs his neck, chuckling.
Lance edges closer to Chris, "But exciting, right?"
Chris glances over, then up at the numbers. "It was pretty hot, yeah."
"Did you have to stop it or did you go from floor to floor?" Lance fingers the hem of Chris's shirt and lifts a little, exposing the smooth flesh at his hip.
"Uh," Chris swallows, sucking in a breath. "Floor to floor. It was a dare of sorts."
"Color me impressed," Lance's fingers drift over skin.
Chris closes his eyes, laying his hand on top of Lance's. "You're killing me."
Lance licks his lips then, nudging closer, "Not yet. I can go back to my corner if you want."
Chris groans as the elevator pings, indicating their floor. "Saved by the bell."
Lance ducks his head as his cheeks flush and he follows quietly behind Chris to his room. He keeps his distance as Chris unlocks the door. He moves past him once Chris has it open, and presses Chris against it once Chris has it closed again, "I want to have sex in the car. And an elevator and maybe at the top of the Empire State Building, okay?"
"Okay," Chris laughs, his arms wrapping around Lance's neck. "Might be a little hard to set up, the Empire State Building thing, but. I'll try anything."
"Yeah?"
"With you? Yeah."
Lance smiles easily then, as he closes his eyes and tips his head to Chris's shoulder. "I think I love you."
Chris's breath catches. "Y-yeah?"
Lance nods slowly and kisses Chris's neck below his ear. "Like a lot."
Chris's head falls back against the door. "O-oh."
Lance stops but stays close, "Is that... should I not have said that?"
Chris's eyes are closed, and they stay that way as he tips Lance's chin up, searching out his lips. His kiss is soft, undercut with need.
Lance pulls in a breath, then opens his mouth to Chris as he starts tugging on Chris's shirt and stumbling backwards.
Chris mumbles something against Lance's mouth, pushing him down on the bed as he tears off his own shirt, then strips off Lance's.
Lance slides back just enough before Chris is covering him, almost pinning him. He lifts his hands to Chris's hips, surging forward, seeking the warmth of Chris's body, of Chris's mouth, and he almost whimpers once he's got it, hot wet lips, heavy, searching tongue.
"Love you," Chris murmurs, breathes it against Lance's skin like a blessing, his lips on Lance's jaw, his chin, his neck. His hands sweep along Lance's skin as he rocks into him. "Do."
Lance feels himself soar that much more and he buries his face in Chris's neck for just a moment before he's kissing again, hands rising to Chris's face, holding him there, to his mouth, "Please, please, do."
"Whatever you want, Lance. It's yours."
"I just," Lance's hands slide to the back of Chris's neck, where his fingers clasp together, "Just want you."
Chris smiles, nuzzling Lance's neck. "Got me. I promise."
Lance tugs gently on Chris's hair, because Christ, he wants to see him, wants his mouth and everything, close to his, "Think we can get these," he wiggles his hips just a little, "off?"
"Your wish is my command," Chris winks, sitting up and kicking off his shoes, then his pants and boxers. He takes his time with Lance, though, stripping him slowly, feathering kisses up his legs as he lays back over him. "Better?"
"Yeah," Lance nods slowly, settling under Chris's weight, still smiling. He lifts his foot over and settles it between Chris's legs.
Chris trails a finger along Lance's chest, circling a nipple, then rolling it between under his thumb. "I look good on you." He smiles.
"You do," Lance's head lolls slightly with the sensation. He pulls his leg tighter against Chris, and his hands slide over Chris's sides and down along the curve until they cup Chris's ass. "Just one way you'd look better."
"Mmm?" Chris lowers his head, laving at a nipple as he arches back into Lance's touch. "How's that?"
It has been days since they talked about it and Lance hasn't pushed the bar any further. He figured there'd be a time again and maybe the onus wouldn't be on him and he wishes in some small way it wasn't still, but he also can't help what he wants. And he just wants to feel every inch of Chris everywhere. "In me."
Chris pauses, sucking in a breath. He knew this was coming, has been waiting for it. It is hard to believe in a week that things could change so much, but they have. The way he feels for Lance is different, and he wants more, too. He kisses his way back up to Lance's mouth, closing his eyes as his tongue sweeps inside. "Yes," he says.
Lance's fingers curl and dig just a little with that short, simple little word. And there's an initial feeling to ask, 'really?' but that's quelled quickly by Chris's mouth and Lance opens, wants to open even more, kisses Chris with slightly more confidence and an even greater appreciation for what they'll keep doing.
Chris pulls away reluctantly, tracing Lance's still-swollen lips. "I've gotta. I'll be right back." He gets up, padding over to his bag and digging inside it, returning a moment later with lube and condoms, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching Lance with soft eyes.
Lance glances quickly from the stuff Chris brought over to Chris before closing his eyes and pulling in his breath, then exhaling it slowly, nervously.
Chris strokes a light hand along Lance's thigh. "We don't have to."
"No, no," Lance says quickly. "I want to. Just a little... I mean, natural to be... nervous right?"
"Absolutely." Chris moves closer. "I promise I'll make it good."
"I know," the smile that crosses Lance's lips is calm. "I know. That's why I want... I know you will."
Chris reaches for the lube as he leans forward, kissing Lance softly. "How do you want to do this?"
"You tell me."
"Well, we can do it like this, or on your stomach. It's up to you, really." As he's speaking, Chris reaches down and strokes Lance's cock slowly.
Lance's breathing speeds up at the slightest touch and he knows he's on edge as it is, totally on overload, and he bites down on his lip and winces slightly. "How do you like best, when it's you? You always. On your back with me."
"Might be a little easier. On your stomach." Chris shrugs a little, squeezing lube onto his fingers and starting to warm it. "But I like to see what's going on."
"I'll move. If I don't... we can change if I don't want to stay," Lance eases himself over. He looks over his shoulder at Chris. "Okay?"
Chris eases Lance up on all fours and presses a kiss to the small of Lance's back. "Better than. Just relax, Lance. Let me know if it's too much." He circles Lance's opening with a gentle finger, teasing before he barely penetrates.
Lance tilts his head forward again and closes his eyes. It feels weird and it's really hard to relax. He drops his forehead until it's flush against the bed and he concentrates on breathing and the strange slide of Chris's finger.
Chris runs a soothing hand down Lance's back, kissing the flushed skin again as he pushes further inside. "Okay?"
Lance jumps slightly and then slowly adjusts, and Jesus, it's only finger and how the hell is it going to be when it's more? "'S okay, yeah, okay."
"We'll go as far as you want," Chris murmurs, watching as his finger glides all the way in, past the ring of muscle. He starts to move it, then, sliding it in and out slowly, watching Lance carefully. He doesn't even realize he's holding his breath, waiting for some kind of reaction.
"Jesus," It takes a moment but Lance finds himself moving towards Chris's finger with a slight roll of his hips, because whoa, that slide is smooth and fucking weird, but not all together unpleasant.
Chris's lip is caught between his teeth as his finger moves more easily. He's searching, looking for it, waiting.
Lance isn't entirely sure what Chris does, but he's pretty sure it's what he's been doing when he does this to Chris, when he angles inside Chris and makes Chris writhe beneath him with one small movement. It's like a jolt, spreading over his spine and up through his body, till he's choking out, "God, do that again," and a rougher, "more."
Chris smiles, kisses his way slowly along Lance's spine as he adds a second finger slowly, so slowly, massaging Lance. "You should see yourself," he whispers, tongue tracing patterns on the small of Lance's back.
Maybe Lance could if he opened his eyes long enough to focus, but there's more of Chris now and he can feel himself opening with every movement of Chris's hand. It takes everything not to clench around him, not to push those fingers out and away, but the heat of Chris's tongue, his mouth, and the ever increasing sparks of pleasure that buzz through him when Chris's fingers slide over him, keep him breathing in a steady, shallow rhythm. It sets his body in motion, angling to meet every sweet glide.
"So beautiful," Chris murmurs. "Love you." There's a third finger, then, and he can feel Lance tense, strokes along his back with his free hand, holds his breath with him until Lance relaxes a little and Chris can move easily. Soon, he thinks, but he's waiting for some sign from Lance.
"Oh," Lance gasps as his hands fist the sheets above his head. "That's," but there's nothing but exposure and an almost burning tingle around every edge. Lance lifts his head and tosses a glance over his shoulder, first to Chris's arm where he watches the movements and feels the downward slide, then up to Chris's face, concentrated and flushed, and Lance shifts, wants, and whispers, "Chris?"
Chris's eyes shift upwards, and he leans up along Lance's body, kissing his shoulder. "You okay?"
Lance nods, "Yeah. I think, yeah. I. You?"
"Yeah," Chris smiles, grazing his lips across Lance's ear. "Do you want more?"
Lance's eyes flutter as he breathes, "Yeah."
"Love you," Chris says again as he sits up, reaching for the condoms. There's a crinkling noise as he tears open the foil, closing his eyes as he rolls it on himself. A little more lube, and Chris withdraws his fingers, nuzzling Lance's neck as he positions himself. "Tell me if it's too much."
Lance nods again and licks his lips before resting his tongue between his own teeth. He's more than a little shocked at the initial contact, because whoa, Chris's fingers are nothing at all compared to Chris's dick and he bites down and squeezes his eyes shut again, mumbling, "Slow, right? Slow."
"Slow as you need," Chris says, biting his lip as he pushes forward, the head of his cock disappearing inside Lance. Inside him, Chris thinks, and that's a bigger deal than maybe it needs to be, but he finds himself overwhelmed by the amount of trust he's been given. It's not something either of them gives easily.
Lance stills almost completely, because he knows. It's supposed to hurt, he'd read, heard, figured everything, that it just wasn't something that went from good to better to amazing right from the get-go. And it does, hurt, and tears prickle at the corners of his eyes, even as he keeps them shut tight, even as his fingers curl and fist until his knuckles are white. But he knows, he knows no one would do this if it didn't get better, easier, and he waits, feels his body adjust, feels Chris slide just a little more, and feels his own body, of its own volition, begin to pull Chris in more.
The pull makes Chris shudder, the way Lance's body reacts to him, and it's not as long as he'd expected before he's all the way inside. All the way inside and his heart is racing as he licks at the line of sweat on Lance's back, runs a soft hand up his side, sliding it around to his waist. Heat, and lots of it. Chris hasn't felt quite this warm in a long time.
A metallic tang fills Lance's mouth and it only takes a moment to realize he's bitten down so hard on his tongue that he's drawn blood. He whimpers softly, presses his lips together briefly before murmuring, "'s okay, 's okay."
Chris kisses the back of Lance's neck, snaking an arm around him and rubbing his stomach, caressing him, holding him. "Love you, Lance."
"I do... I..." but coherent thought escapes Lance all together as Chris angles again and there seems to be nothing but heat at every edge of his body.
Chris is moving now, slow and sure, kissing Lance's shoulder, his back, his fingers drifting down to brush lightly across Lance's cock. Lance is tight and hot and Chris wants more, but he doesn't want to push too far.
It's strange, the contact, and when Lance opens his eyes again and forces some sort of focus, to realize the center of his circulation is between his legs. He thinks this is very possibly the hardest he's ever been and he uncurls his fingers and slides them down his chest to Chris's hand. Because it isn't enough and he pushes Chris's hand back to his cock, where he curls their twined fingers over the length, ignoring the hitch in his chest, breathing, "God, yeah."
"Yeah," Chris nods, resting his head on Lance's back, twisting his hips as he moves in and out. Lance is so hot and so open to him now, and Chris doesn't really have to want, because he's got it, right here, under him. His hand moves faster on Lance's dick as his own breathing speeds up, becoming increasingly ragged.
And there it is, the point where it clicks and it still feels strange and invasive but there's a different line because Lance is feeling everything, everywhere, and he doesn't think there's any way in hell Chris can ever get closer, figuratively speaking and not. It surprises him, the burn in his chest and the force with which his orgasm hits . He jerks against Chris's hand, against his own hand, squeezes his eyes shut again, and feels the warmth rushing over them.
Chris gasps as Lance's body tightens around him, clenching and unclenching and holy hell that's amazing. Unbelievable, and Chris moves faster until he feels it, too, the slow burn through his body that starts in his toes. He bites down on Lance's shoulder to muffle the cry as he comes, his whole body shaking, and it's all he can do not to collapse on top of Lance, laving at the red mark he's made as he starts to come down.
There's a slow gradual press of Chris's weight against Lance's back. Lance wipes his hand on the bedspread and braces himself before easing down into the scratchy softness of blankets and pillows.
Chris holds his breath as he pulls away, taking off the condom and tossing it in the trash as he gets off the bed, ducking into the bathroom and bringing back a warm washcloth which he uses to clean Lance off gently before he slides in behind him, pulling Lance flush against his chest. He's almost afraid to speak, kissing Lance's hair instead, his cheek, folding his fingers into Lance's as he wraps his arms around him.
Lance snuffles, then presses his nose into the pillow tiredly. He relaxes with the warmth surrounding him and only after a few moments asks shakily, "Is that like the Ramones?"
"It's sort of like. Ramones when they were first playing," Chris says, nuzzling Lance's neck and smiling. "It gets better with time. But yeah. I think it was."
Lance opens his eyes to the darkness and the tears are mostly gone. "Good. That's... when can we see 'em again?"
Chris tilts Lance's face, kissing away any remaining moisture. "As often as you want." He strokes Lance's cheek. "You're, uh. You're sure you're okay?"
Lance tips his head in a half nod. "Yeah. Different. That normal?"
"I think so, yeah." Chris kisses Lance softly, then lays back, pillowing him against his body. "Yeah."
"Mmmkay. Good," Lance rests a hand loosely at Chris's hip.
Chris cards his fingers lightly through Lance's hair, watching his face in the dim light of the room. For once, he doesn't think he has it in him to speak.
*
It takes quite a bit to finally pull away from questions and flashes. There's still the residual feeling of anxiety and euphoria of doing the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade but it's slowly being kicked by a different excitement that comes from being in New York City at the start of the Christmas season. Lance watches Chris graciously answering questions. There are moments he's thankful for being seen as the 'shy one' of the band.
And then there are other moments when Lance quite happily takes responsibility and with a smile in the direction of the latest reporter, he excuses himself and Chris, animatedly tugging Chris towards an exit that just doesn't seem quick enough.
Chris laughs quietly, shaking his head. "Jeez, Lance, eager much?" He is, too, though, and the way he's half-pulling Lance along betrays his true feelings. The excitement and energy of the parade, of the city, thrums through him, and he's bouncing with it.
"We don't have much time," Lance shoves Chris towards one of the limousines waiting on them. "We've got to be at the airport in less than two hours."
"I know, I know." Chris crawls in and tugs Lance next to him, looking out the window, his fingers closing over Lance's in the space between them. "We'll make it."
"Yeah, just wanna," Lance shrugs a little as he leans around Chris and stares out Chris's window at the crowds. "Have as much time."
Chris's eyes are on Lance's profile, not the window, his gaze soft. "I know what you mean."
Lance glances over, his smile bright, "This is pretty crazy, huh?"
"Quite the sight, yes." Chris brushes his fingers over Lance's cheek.
Lance leans into the touch, "You don't think the guys'll miss us, do you?"
"Of course. We're the two most fun, most fascinating members of the group. There's a great big black hole back there right now. They're all morose and crying. Seriously."
Lance's lips quirk in amusement and he leans forward to press a small kiss to Chris's lips, "I'm sure."
"I know I'm going to miss you," Chris whispers against Lance's lips, then turns to watch the scenery as it speeds by.
Lance tilts his head to Chris's shoulder. "It's just a couple of days. It'll fly by."
"Yeah," Chris nods, and then the car starts to slow. His smile gets wider, and he squeezes Lance's hand. "You ready?"
"I was born ready," Lance smirks and once the car stops, pushes open the door.
Chris shakes his head and follows him, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep from touching Lance. "How'd you manage this, anyway?"
"Oh," Lance quirks a brow mischievously, "I have my ways."
"I don't want to know, do I?" Chris mutters, hiding his smile. The tree looms large in front of him and even as jaded as he tries to pretend to be he can't hide the wonder in his eyes at the sight.
"One day I'll share all my secrets. For now," Lance follows Chris's gaze to the tree and he grins widely. There's a fairly large crowd and the rink is playing 'Silent Night'. "That's really. Wow. It's really big."
"Yeah, it is. It's something, huh?" Chris leans against Lance's back, watching it. "Almost as big as me." He ducks his head, snickering, and moves away, avoiding Lance's hand.
Lance shakes his head with a grin. "They took this one from a convent in Pennsylvania. Did you know that? Tree was there for almost seventy years."
"That's Pennsylvania. Home of all the good wood."
Lance smirks again. "Home of? Or birthplace?"
"Birthplace," Chris winks. "It really is something."
"Hey Chris?"
Chris looks over at Lance. "Yeah?"
"Think it'll always be like this?"
"I don't know. But I hope so."
Lance leans sideways towards Chris, his gaze set on the red, green, and blue twinkle of the tree. Their hands dangle between them, and he hooks a finger with one of Chris's, "Yeah."
Chris looks down, then at their hands, then up at Lance. "I've got a good feeling."
-fin-