Getting an Eyeful
by Chris J

"Are you done in there?" asked Chris, banging on the door a little. I'd turned off the shower a couple minutes ago and was just finishing drying myself, leaning forward into the steamy mirror and examining myself critically. I wasn't looking so bad today...could probably use a shave though.

I sighed as Chris banged again and opened the door, not even bothering to cover myself with the towel. "If you were in so much of a hurry," I said, "you should have hopped in the shower with me when I asked."

"I was busy," he said with a mischievous grin.

"You were busy watching TV," I countered, shaking my head. A few water droplets flew off, so I raised the towel again and scrubbed at it a bit more. I reached forward with my other hand to cup the back of his neck and pulled him into a quick kiss. "Go shower," I said. "We're going out later."

"Yeah, with the guys," he said, frowning a little.

"And what's wrong with that?" I asked. It wasn't like Chris not to want to go out with the rest of the guys. Hell, he was usually the one to suggest it in the first place.

"It's nothing," he said. "See you in a few minutes." He kissed me again then ducked into the bathroom, closing the door.

I dropped my towel onto the bed and started rummaging around in my bag for something to wear. I wanted to look good for Chris, but not so much that I would be attracting too much other attention. Not that that was going to be much of a problem with the pretty boys around. Still, just one or two girls to flirt with would be more than enough cover without distracting me from my boyfriend all night.

My boyfriend. I smiled as that thought ran through my head. My boyfriend. It didn't make me nervous to think of Chris that way anymore so much as excited. Yeah, it was still kinda new and different, but in the good way, not the freaked-out kinda way.

I found a pair of tight black jeans--yeah, I looked good in tight clothing, I just didn't wear it so often--and an emerald shirt that tended to cling in the right places when I got sweaty, which I would if we were going to be dancing. Not too flashy, just right. I lay them over one edge of the couch and was about to go looking for clean underwear and socks when Chris came out of the bathroom.

I looked up at him, water still spotting his body, dripping off his hair, his elbow, his... I started to get hard at the sight, and forgot about everything I was supposed to be doing. His eyes caught mine, and they were smoldering.

"We don't have to go out soon, do we?" he asked roughly, scrubbing his hair dry with the towel then tossing it carelessly aside as he approached me. I shook my head, and he wrapped his arms around my waist tilting his head upwards for a kiss. It started softly and ended rough, our mouths meeting again and again at a frantic pace.

His hands fell away from my waist and started back up at my neck. We continued to kiss as he traced my collarbone then moved downwards to pinch my nipples, just roughly enough to get them hard. I meant to moan, but our mouths met again and it was drowned by our meeting tongues.

He reached forward and snatched my carefully chosen clothes off the arm of the couch and tossed them aside. They may have landed on the bed, they may not have, but neither of us noticed. He leaned towards me and bit my earlobe lightly. "Bend over," he said, pushing me over the arm of the couch.

I did it easily, my hard cock rubbing against the coarse fabric, my ass fully exposed to him. He dropped to his knees, so quickly I could almost hear a crack against the floor as he landed, and reached out to part my cheeks gently. I'd never exposed myself to anyone like this before, never left myself completely vulnerable to whatever they wanted to do to me. I'd never trusted anyone quite this much.

His tongue flicked out across my hole and I trembled; there was nothing for me to grab onto but the cushion beneath me, and no way for me to touch that man who was already making me feel so incredible. His hands clutched my skin tightly as he continued to lick me, then poked the tip of his tongue inside me.

"Oh fuck," I gasped. He did it again, and all I could do was moan. Then, abruptly, he moved away and came around to my side. I bit my lip to keep from begging him for more. Yeah, I really did want it that badly,

"I'll be right back," he whispered to me. "Don't move."

I didn't think I actually had the muscle coordination to move at that point anyway and, besides, he was back less then a minute later. His warm hands rested against my ass again and I felt his tongue swipe at me, then he slid a well-lubricated finger inside.

"Oh, fuck!" I said again, thrusting my erection against the fabric of the sofa and helping him establish a rhythm inside me. I heard a familiar tearing sound and tensed a little bit as Chris rolled the condom on; it had been a long time since I'd done this, at least from this end. But I think Chris knew that. He must have known that. He entered me slowly, one hand clutching mine, our fingers laced together so I could tell him when it was too much, the other laying palm down in the middle of my back to steady us.

"Is this okay?" he asked me softly. When he stopped moving entirely, I knew he was waiting for an answer.

"Yes. Feels good. More," was all I managed to get out, clenching my teeth and thrusting back against him to feel more of him inside me. It was so damn good, and it was Chris, and I didn't want it to be anyone but Chris, ever again. He began thrusting into me, slowly, drawing himself almost entirely out before pushing himself into me again.

We both heard the door open, but through sex-fogged minds it didn't seem like it should be a big enough deal to make us stop.

"Guys, I can't decide," began Lance, stepping through the open door. "The blue or the-- Oh, my virgin eyes!" The door slammed shut and we were alone again. I could feel Chris begin to pull away slightly, so I bucked back against him. Hard.

"Don't you dare stop now," I growled, tightening my grip on his hand. He began thrusting into me again, faster than before, and I think maybe that, like me, he got the teensiest bit more turning on, knowing that Lance had seen us. I brought my free arm up under my face and bit the skin of my wrist slightly, to keep from crying out. Damn, it was so good. So good. So good.

"I'm gonna come," he whispered urgently, slamming into me two more times before letting out a primal cry and trying to grip my back with his hand, fingers scraping futilely against the slick skin. I held still as he gasped for breath, his hips moving into me as cum spilled from him into the condom.

He slipped out of me then and I was left empty, my cock still achingly hard, my body stiff and shaking from the unexpected and fabulous fucking. I began to get up but he stopped me and flipped me over with one smooth motion. He pulled my legs towards him so that my tailbone rested right on the edge of the arm and my back arched downwards towards the cushions. Then he just looked at me for a moment.

I could almost come from that look alone. I imagined that no one but me had ever seen him like this before, not the guys, certainly not the fans, maybe not even Dani. His body was shiny with sweat, his muscles taut, his hair wet and spiky, his lips bitten to a rosy red. And his eyes. His eyes looking at me like there was nothing else in the world he wanted more.

Then he dropped to his knees again, still staring at me, and brought his mouth down to my cock. I squeezed my eyes shut and willed myself not to come yet, but all it took was three long, hard bobs and I was finished. I shouted, even though I tried not to, and arched my back even higher, pushing myself into his mouth. I opened my eyes to see him let my wilting erection slip from his lips, his eyes still locked with mine. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and then smiled.

I laughed, my orgasm subsiding but sensations of bliss still flowing through me. He moved to the side of the couch for a moment and held me close. His lips rested against my throat, not quite kissing but not quite not either.

"I've got to get cleaned up," he whispered to me and slipped away into the bathroom. I managed to get myself up to a sitting position and rested my elbows on my knees, running my hands through my hair to try and tame it. It had to be a disaster by now, and I almost needed another shower.

"Joey, Joey, c'mere!" I hear Chris whisper excitedly from the bathroom.

"I don't think I can," I answered quietly, but I did manage to get to my feet and stumble into the bathroom. "What is it?"

"Shh," he said. "Listen."

I listened very carefully and didn't hear a thing other than Chris' still-heavy breathing beside me. "Listen to what?"

"Shh," he said again. "It's coming from the bathroom next door." I listened again, but shook my head in defeat. "It's Lance," he said. "I think he know."

"Oh God, Lance," I said, remembering suddenly the point at which he'd walked into the room.

"Don't worry," said Chris, giggling a little. "If he was doing what I think he was doing, he didn't mind so much."

"Well, I mind," I said, but I had to grin a little. Chris had removed the condom and tossed it away, but there were still streaks of cum on his penis that he hadn't washed away. I crouched down and silently licked them away, enjoying his soft moan of pleasure. His hand tangled in my hair and drew me upwards again into a long, drawn-out kiss.

"Much as I'd love to do it again," he said. "We don't have time." He ran a washcloth under warm water and used it to clean the cum and sweat off my body--little of the former but much of the latter. The cloth and the warmth were soothing against my body, and I almost wished he hadn't already washed himself up so that I could give him the same pleasure.

He kissed me again, his arms trapping me against the bathroom counter, and our hands roamed one another idly. We were both turned on, but neither were trying to take it anywhere.

"We should get dressed," I admitted finally, and he agreed with a reluctant nod of his head. "Are you in a little better mood about going out tonight?" He grinned and nodded again planting a kiss on the tip of my nose. "Good. I want to dance."

He pushed himself back from the counter and I followed him out of the small room. I retrieved my outfit from the floor next to the bed--the bed we didn't use-- and shook the wrinkles out. It didn't take me long to dress. It did take me a little longer to fix my hair up and try to scrub the freshly-fucked flush from my face.

I met Chris at the door and looked him over approvingly. He was dressed in faded, patched jeans and a white T-shirt, his hair in thickish, possibly unintentional, spikes that drooped back towards his head. He'd kept the flush.

"Let's go," I said, and we walked down the corridor to JC's room. I knocked five times, quick and sharp, and the door opened up under my hand.

"I told you it would be open," said JC, letting us inside. Justin and Lance were already there, sitting on one of the beds and watching TV. Lance looked up as we came in, and I saw him blush.

"Okay guys," he said loudly. "New rule. Whenever you're having sex in the hotel, lock your damn door."

"Hey, I always lock the door when I'm having sex!" protested Justin.

"I wasn't talking about you, Just," he said, meeting our eyes accusingly. JC and Justin were now both looking at us as well.

"Um, oops?" said Chris, winking at them and taking my hand as I tried to hide my embarrassment. "So, let's get going."

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