JC could have gone up and tugged Chris off the floor by the scruff of his neck, but that just wasn't his style. People that didn't know him thought he couldn't get mad. JC Chasez could get mad. He just wouldn't show it unless he had to.

Instead of being obvious and uncouth, then, he took an alternate approach: slinking his way onto the dancefloor himself, sliding up against Chris's back, and smiling icily at Joey who was pressed tightly against his chest.

Joey moved back, just fractionally, and JC had to wait a moment before Chris even noticed. And another for him to look back over his shoulder to see JC. JC hoped that it was because Chris already knew he was there, that of course he would be there; if he didn't, they had even more to answer for.

His smile broadened, but it was -- what did they call it? -- an alligator's smile. "Having fun?" he mouthed once they met eyes, the music in the club much too loud for anything else.

Chris leaned back to speak against his ear. "Is yes the right answer to that question?" he asked, a sly smile appearing as he slid away again. He was always cocky like that, seemed like.

JC hooked a casual hand in the waistband of his pants in return, making quite sure Chris wouldn't get far. "Yes is the right answer to that question," JC murmured back, lips on Chris's earlobe this time. "but only if that's as far as you want to go, tonight."

"How about 'i'm having more fun now that I was'?" he tried again, pushing in closer. Still cocky, not that JC was expecting anything less. Chris could read him, sure, but that didn't stop him from being himself around him.

"Mmm, better," JC conceded, letting his slim fingertips dip further down into the back of Chris's pants. He gave Joey a look, which was all he needed to make sure the other man faded into the crowd. "Joey looking good to you tonight, or something?"

"Joey *asked*," said Chris pointedly, "which is more than I can say for some of my lovers." He drew out the word, making it almost a moan in JC's ear. "Did you watch?"

"I did," JC admitted, then tugged on the belt of Chris's frayed khakis. "You ever bother getting dressed to come out any more?"

"But I wore this just for you!" Chris protested, glancing down at his own pants before rubbing against JC's body. "Cause I know how much you like to stick your fingers in my holes."

"Among other things," JC muttered, feeling himself tense, get hard in every sense of the word, at Chris's insinuation. "You're being a tease tonight. What's with you?"

"I'm not teasing," protested Chris, that grin appearing again, cocked to one side and making him look like nothing *but* like a tease. "I'm seducing you. Is it working?"

"Is it?" JC asked in reply, running his fingertips along the soft skin at the top of Chris's ass, using his other hand to surreptitiously guide Chris's palm to his crotch. "Keep in mind, your answer'll probably decide the evening, one way or the other."

"I don't care if that came from my ass against you, or from watching us," said Chris, rubbing him with surprising discretion. "It's all mine now, and I intend to use it."

"It's all yours," JC agreed, his breath growing harsh. "Meet you in the limo? But if I catch you dawdling around with Joey while I'm waiting ... "

"No, I have Justin waiting for me in the bathroom," teased Chris, slapping JC's ass affectionatly. "Go. I'm right behind you. In every way you just imagined that."

"In your dreams," JC teased, his mood markedly improved with the realization that he was going to get what he wanted after all. "And I don't know what you and Justin would do together anyway; never seen two boys more set on bottoming than the two of you."

"Maybe I want to bring him with me," said Chris with a waggle of his eyebrows. "You man enough for both of us, Chasez? Now *go*. Hurry, would you? I'm aching here."

"Justin gets his turns," JC said calmly, forcing himself not to speed up as they walked out. Forcing himself not to think about how when it *was* Justin's turn, JC always felt like he was settling. Not that he'd ever admit it. People who thought Justin Timberlake's ego was huge had never met Chris Kirkpatrick.

"Justin squirms," said Chris. "And not in the fun way. That's why we let Joey have him ... he can hold him down right. And speaking of ... I have pictures back at the hotel ... if you're interested ... "

"Maybe later," JC said distractedly, nodding at Lonnie who opened the limo door for them. "Is that how *youd'* prefer to spend the night?"

"I didn't think we'd get through more than two or three of them without you getting hot enough to jump me," said Chris, sliding into the limo with unusual grace. "I do know how much you like to watch, after all. Still pictures, videos ... it's always better when it's friends, don't you think?"

Grunting, JC barely waited until the door closed before slipping gracefully himself onto Chris's lap. "It is," he acknowledged. "Which may be why I'm hot enough to jump you now. Since I wouldn't normally be." Lie, lie lie LIE.

"Huh," said Chris, wrapping himself around JC lewdly. He hit the button to talk to the driver. "Just drive around for a while. We aren't sure where we're going yet." Then he took his finger off and brought it up to JC's lips. "Maybe we should've brought Joey after all ... "

JC licked up Chris's finger slowly, as teasingly as he knew how. "What for?" he said simply. "You think you'll be anything other than useless by the time I'm done?" Chris knew exactly what seeing him with Joey did to JC, much more than seeing him with Lance or Justin. That didn't mean JC had to acknowledge it to him.

"You think *you'll* be anything other than useless by the time *I'm* done?" countered Chris, tracing his lips. "You know what I can do with my mouth, and I can tell you're in the mood for it ... you can't lie to me, Chasez ... "

JC sniffed. "Kinda hard to use your mouth for anything other than screaming my name, when I have you face down on these seats."

"Well, that's only *one* of the things I can do to make you come so hard it blinds you," said Chris. He never did lose that cockiness, and especially not when it was so obvious he was going to get what he wanted. Fortunately, his wants and JC's wants were coinciding.

"What is?" JC pretended to yawn. "Screaming my name? Like I don't hear THAT enough." He slipped closer to Chris's body, further into his lap, the heat at the crotch of both their pants mingling.

"Well, I you don't want me to ... " said Chris, half teasing and half threatening. "There are always other options. The night is young after all." And of course he knew that JC wasn't going to say no. He always seemed to know.

"I never said I didn't want you to," JC replied quickly, before slipping off Chris's lap again, letting one of his hands linger over the bulge in his pants. "Just seems like you used to have more pride than that."

Chris laughed, almost right in his face. "Given the choice between screaming your name so loud and hot it makes you want to shoot and staying stoically silent, I don't think it boils down to a matter of *pride*, JC. It's a matter of hedonism. Which makes me feel better ... which makes you feel better ... " His own hand found its way to the front of JC's pants. "And I think I know which one does."

"Fuck," JC muttered, batting at Chris's hand. He was already too close to shooting as it was. "Are you gonna take off your pants, already?"

"Isn't that your job?" taunted Chris. "Some date you are. I didn't even get flowers." He didn't waste any time undoing his pants, though, or wriggling halfway out of them.

"Yeah, and you're crying in your red bull and vodka, I'm sure," JC breathed, his heart beating unsolictedly faster as the fabric was pushed past his friend's sturdy hips. "Keep going."

"Don't you *want* to see me naked?" asked Chris, leaving the pants just past his knees. "*Touch* me already. I'm right here."

JC stretched his arms out along the back of the seat. "I can wait until you're done," he said, though gritted teeth. "I do have a *little* self-control." But he couldn't keep from running a shaky palm over Chris's ass briefly. "I like what I see so far."

"Can you?" teased Chris, moving the pants down a little further. "Wait, that is?" Because really ... it looks to me like you *can't*." He let go of his pants and ran a hand *not* gently over JC's erection.

"Yes," JC said pointedly, shoving his hand away for a second time. "Stop it, or you're not getting any. And for pete's sake, hurry up, Kirkpatrick. You're not a mystery to me anymore."

"You could pretend," muttered Chris, wriggling the rest of the way out of his pants. "And you know as well as I do that's an empty threat now. You want to fuck me as much as I want to be fucked. Admit it. Or ... do you just want to watch me get myself off?"

"I don't like watching *that* much," JC protested, knowing his eyes were running hungrily over Chris's thighs, and calves, and ankles ... "How 'bout I tell you that you look really fucking good, right now? Will that make up for me being so boorish?"

"Yeah, that'll do nicely," agreed Chris, draping himself over JC now. "Feel pretty fucking good, too. How about you feel me?"

"Take off your shirt," JC whispered encouragingly, keeping his hands clenched in fists at his side. "Now you've made me feel like I have to be all classy, so I can't fuck you with your shirt on. That'd be as bad as just taking my dick out and sticking it in."

"Can I leave my socks on at least?" asked Chris as he started unbuttoning the shirt. "Maybe I *want* you to make me feel a little dirty. You're good at that."

Biting his tongue, JC kept watching -- not knowing just how seriously he was supposed to take that. "And dragging you out here like a random piece of ass didn't accomplish that already?" he challenged, fighting back against the twinges of guilt.

"Fucking me in the back of the limo will go a long way," said Chris. "Maybe you can leave *your* shirt on ... " He finally let his slip off him and fall underfoot, with his pants.

"If you want," JC agreed breathily before he could stop himself, transfixed by the sight of Chris's ruddy, rigid nipples on the strong chest that everyone always underestimated. "If you want."

"I want," said Chris. "And then back at the hotel we can get you the rest of the way naked and I can ride you for a while." His tone was pleasantly matter-of-fact, but JC could see his eyes were dark with lust.

JC swallowed, then remembered he had promised himself he wouldn't let on that night just how much he always, always wanted Chris. He promised himself the other man couldn't continue to hold that against him. So he unbuckled his pants quickly, pushing them just down his thighs, which was only marginally better than what he'd described before. "Like this, then?"

Chris nodded in satisfaction. "Like I have to tell you how to do it," he murmured, and already his legs were spreading.

"Get down here, then," JC grunted, tugging Chris down on the floor of the limo with an arm around his waist, then pushing him up so he was kneeling against the leather of the seats. "If you weren't already insufferable, I'd tell you what a spectacular ass you have."

"Too late, you just did." JC could hear the grin, even though it was hidden when Chris bent over, his face close to the seat. "And you're right, I do. And for the moment it's all yours ... now show me you know what to do with it."

JC steeled himself, then ran a light fingernail down, down along Chris's spine, pausing at his tailbone, then continuing with slightly more pressure down the cleft of his ass -- laughing as Chris spread his legs farther once more. "I haven't convinced you of that, yet?" he murmured. "Maybe we *do* need Joey in here ... "

"I'm not sure I could fit both of you in *there*," snorted Chris, wriggling his ass. "And you know I want you to show me every time. One of these days someone's gonna do something I've never felt before."

"In the meantime, you're just slumming with us?" JC retorted, frustrated with how bitter it came out. "Fine, okay." He gave his thumb a cursory lick, then started working it carefully, if quickly, inside Chris's body.

Chris grunted and fell silent for a moment, wrigging back against him. "You never know," he said finally, letting out a little gasp of air. "That someone could be you."

"Don't sound so optimistic," replied JC sulkily, stroking Chris more gently than he probably needed to, and fumbling in his jacket for some lube. Once again, Chris was able to prove that JC would never have the upper hand in their relationship, no matter how JC acted.

"I'm always optimistic," said Chris, with a bitter twist to his words that spoke the exact opposite. He moved against JC again, started a slow rhythm. "Okay, maybe I'm a cynic. But I'm still always looking to be proven wrong. ... "

It was JC's turn to sigh, letting Chris fucking himself on his thumb as he smeared the luricant over his cock halfheartedly. "Maybe if you didn't waste so much time looking so many different places ... "

"Ha," snorted Chris, but sounded like he was grinning again. "Wherever those places are, your dick's usually there with me. The limo, the hotel, the bus. In case you hadn't noticed, Chasez, there ain't been many but you for a while. Getting settled down in my old age. Now, um ... " He looked back over his shoulder. "Now would be a *great* time to fuck me."

JC stared at him in surprise for a second -- he *hadn't* noticed -- but he could at least recognize an invitation when he heard one. "Is that enough?" he asked quietly, pulling his thumb back; knowing Chris knew him well enough to know he meant whether he'd stretched him sufficiently.

Chris grunted to the affirmative. "Just go slow," he said, and since he didn't often ask for anything like that, JC took him seriously. "Wanna feel it."

Glancing down at how huge and needy his cock was right then, JC was quite certain Chris woulnd't have to worry about THAT at least. He guided himself carefully to rest against Chris's hole, rotating his hips just enough for Chris to feel he was doing *something* back there.

"You always were a tease," groaned Chris, pushing back against him and pointedly *not* looking over his shoulder to see what was going on. "Anyone else would be just giving it to me right now."

"Go be with anyone else, then," JC replied silkily, wrapping a firm hand around the front of Chris's thigh and delving steadily, completely, into Chris. "Um. Later."

"God," breathed Chris, sounding unexpectedly awed. "Okay, enough talking. More of that. Um ... except when I start screaming your name."

"More of this?" JC asked innocently, withdrawing halfway and then sliding in just as far again, suprised and pleased at what Chris is actually dislosing that evening. Intentionally or not, fabricated or not.

"You know," said Chris, moving back against him, harder. "You know, JC." He quickly forgot his vow to stop talking, but JC was used to that. Chris always had something to say.

"You saying this is what you like?" JC pressed, refusing to pull back right away, nudging a little deeper instead. He'd only thrust once; it wasn't like he'd even built up enough for it to tease either of them. He just wanted to hear Chris say more things he maybe hadn't expected to.

"You *know*," said Chris again, following it with another grunt as he shoved himself back, hard. "Tease." He grunted louder and squirmed against him, and still JC held off. "Yes, I want this, will you *please* give it to me now?"

JC had better leverage, though, and wouldn't move his hips; brushed hands lightly down Chris's thighs, around and up between his legs instead. "Then tell me: why were you all up on what Joey's got, tonight?"

"Cause you were watching," said Chris simply. He was always moving, squirming against JC, rubbing his cheek against the seat, clenching and unclenching his hands. "You were watching and stuff like that ... it gets you hot. You don't think I know that, for real?"

JC conceded a little too, at that apparently honest response, and gave Chris a gentle thrust. "You think I *do* know how to tell the difference, when you want him instead of wanting me?"

Chris murmured something that JC thought was maybe 'thank you' but he wouldn't have bet money on it. "I think you do," he said a moment later, louder. "And if you don't, I think you should. Now why are we *talking*, JC? We never talk ... "

"Fine," JC muttered, cutting him off, then withdrawing and slamming his hips back against Chris's ass. "Fine, just lay there." He wanted so badly to just fuck Chris hard, and fast, and impersonally, like he obviously wanted; but every time he tried, he found his body betraying him, doing everything he could to coax approving noises from the man beneath him.

Chris moaned this time, didn't grunt, and the sound was that much hotter to JC. "You really do want me to scream your name, huh," murmured Chris. "You don't have to worry about that, JC. I will. I will."

He hated so much that that *was* what he wanted, and hated even more that it was so obvious. He cupped Chris's balls in his palm firmly, squeezing just a little as he continued to work methodically, intently at Chris's ass. "Don't do me any favors," he muttered against the back of Chris's neck.

"Remember what I said about hedonism?" said Chris, and JC thought his voice was getting breathy now, and it wasn't just wishful thinking. "I do what feels good. And screaming your name, that feels good." Chris, he'd learned a long time ago, could talk through anything, no matter how much he protested that he didn't want to.

"There's no one here to show off for," JC replied bitterly, disbelieving that reasoning, refusing to forget how obvious Chris had been about not wanting to discuss Joey. He shifted his knees a little, glad he was still wearing his pants and halfway hoping Chris was getting rugburn, and dug in a little more viciously.

"There's you," said Chris, letting out a sharp gasp. "Oh yeah, right there, right there, baby .. "

JC jerked back, surprised, then gritted his teeth and did whatever he'd done to Chris again. "That's a little over the top, don't you think?" he asked wryly, biting Chris's shoulder. "I *am* capable of recognizing when you're being patronizing. Don't bother ... you're getting what you want. I'm not stopping."

"What are you *talking* about?" said Chris, throwing his head back and hissing as JC hit that spot again. "Oh yeah, fuck, right *there*. I swear, you know my body better than *I* do .... "

JC's cheeks flushed and he tried to do it again, eagerly, pathetically, even as he tried to figure out how to explain what he'd meant. "We don't ever talk," he clarified slowly, palming Chris's hips and holding him still, "and you don't ever call me ...stuff like that. Remember?"

"God, JC, we're talking about this *now*?" gasped Chris, obviously strugging to remain still. "Can you bring this up when we're *not* in the middle of fucking? Please JC? I promise I'll talk, I just need to ... okay ... need to come first, talk later .... "

JC ignored him, tugged down on Chris's balls a little, prolonging that moment until he'd said what he needed to say. "You started it. I was just reminding you of how this goes, with us." He sped up the motion of his hips. "Forgot; thought you were with Joey?"

"Haven't been with Joey in weeks," he muttered, his voice soft but audible. "Not gonna forget. Sorry I called you baby, if you don't like it. Harder now, please?"

"I didn't *say* ... shit," JC cut himself off, realizing he'd been so caught up on the how and when of Chris's orgasm that he hadn't realized how close he was himself. He draped himself closer against Chris's back, pressing him harder down into the seat -- leaving his weight on his elbows so he completely enveloped him. And did it harder.

"Yeah, like *that*," Chris groaned out. "God ... fuck ... *JC* ... " There it was, the screaming of his name. He hadn't been sure, up until that moment, whether Chris really was going to or not.

JC bit him again, feeling the muscle and skin give beneath his teeth as he gripped Chris between his arms, and even braced his foot back against the seat across from them to be able to get as deep as he could. Chris couldn't move if he tried.

"Fuck, *JC*," he called out again, pressing back against JC's firm embrace. "Only you ... could do it like this ... *fuck*." He was so close to coming JC could almost taste it, *could* smell it.

JC cupped his shoulder and shuddered, driving in one last time, then licked Chris's neck shakily as his orgasm started unbidden. "Chris," he breathed, another concession.

Chris rubbed himself against the seat as he came, pushed back against JC, would have probably grabbed at him if he could. Just would not stop moving. "Fuck," he murmured again, the volume of his voice falling off sharply. "Oh, JC."

"Stop the hell squirming," JC muttered, keeping Chris tight in his embrace until he was past certain they'd both started coming down. He did run a gentle hand down the length of Chris's arm, idly wondering if he'd find it soothing. "For two seconds."

"One ... two ... " Chris counted out, but stopped moving for much longer than that. "You broke me." He'd said that before, though. He'd said that a lot of times before, and JC was sure it wasn't just to him.

"Right," murmured JC, but couldn't help licking that spot one more time before grunting and pushing himself away from the seat, away from Chris. He cracked his back and climbed up on the other one, pretending to watch disinterestedly as Chris didn't move at first.

Chris just turned his head to the side and rested his cheek against the seat again, still bent over, ass in the air looking red and warm and ... used. "You like fucking me more than you like fucking Justin, don't you." It was a question, but at the same time it wasn't.

"Yes," JC replied evenly. There was no reason to lie. First of all, he'd be absolutely incensed if Chris lied to him, had he asked the accompanying question. Second, he couldn't hide things like that from Chris for shit. That was what got him there in the first place; Chris knowing he could play JC however he wanted to. It made him angry earlier; now --like always -- he was just too sated to get worked up about the balance of power.

"And you like fucking me more than you like watching, too, right?" That, at least, was a question that JC hadn't been expecting. And he had no idea where the hell Chris was going with this.

"Watching what?" JC asked warily, even though the answer would be yes, no matter what Chris said. His cock had finally wilted enough for him to be able to button his pants up again, so he did. And waited for Chris to look at him.

"Watching ... me with other people, or other people with other people," said Chris, not moving except to let his back sag a little, which only served to push his ass higher in the air. "Just ... watching, like you do. You like this, with me, better."

JC nodded, even though Chris couldn't see it. "Who wouldn't?" he said, still phrasing his responses carefully. He pushed Chris's pile of clothes closer to him with his toe. "You're a great piece of ass," he said, lightly enough so Chris would know he didn't mean it completely callously. "And ... well, like you said. I kind of know you."

"So basically, the best part of your sex life is me, then," said Chris, taking those pieces and putting them together in a way that JC should have been expecting. "Would you say that's true?"

JC thought back on what he'd said, found the hole in Chris's logic -- he hadn't asked about fucking anyone other than Justin, not that the answer would be any different -- and tried to decide whether he should point it out. But he was still damn curious about whatever point Chris was trying to make, and especially intrigued that he'd developed an argument for whatever it was.

"That'd be a pretty big admission for me to make, without knowing what you plan to do with the information," he pointed out.

"Liking sex with me that much isn't an admission," said Chris, sliding off the chair to sit on his heels and looking over his shoulder at JC. "It's only natural." He gave him a cocky grin before looking forward again. "So, do you? And would you trust me to know it?"

JC sighed. "Yes, and no," he said finally, staring at Chris's back. "Yes, it's true. And no, I don't trust you to know it; not in the least. So if you could maybe forget everything that was said in the last minute or so ... "

"So you wouldn't feel like you were missing anything then," said Chris slowly, still staring forward and away from JC, "if I was gonna suggest that it just be you and me ... "

JC cleared his throat, not caring that it was an obvious stall. He needed time, more time than Chris would give him, to react to that the way he wanted to. He was actually amazed that Chris wouldn't look at him, to take pride in seeing how easily he'd shocked JC.

"Well, I couldn't very well disagree NOW," JC admitted. "If I thought in a million years you were serious." Which he didn't, had NO illusions about.

"Right, right," said Chris, suddenly scrambling up onto the seat and reaching for his clothes. "Of course I couldn't be serious about something like that. Of course I can't be seriously about *any*thing." The light was too dim for JC to tell for sure if there was a flush on Chris's cheeks or if it was just a remnant from their exertion.

"I didn't say *that*, either!" JC protested, watching Chris even more warily. "What's up with you? I'm sorry, I just ... did you ... you *weren't* serious, were you?"

"No," said Chris, the word ringing dully, and for the first time ever, JC could *tell* that he was lying. And that shocked him ever more. "And you forgot to give me my underwear. What, were you keeping them as a souvenir?"

"Maybe," JC said calmly, kicking them under the seat. "And dude, you better have been saying 'no' to something else, 'cause if you're lying to me after making me admit all that shit ... "

"Yes," Chris corrected himself, and gave up on getting dressed. "What, is it so inconceivable that I might have been serious about that, C? I get with you every chance I get, in case you totally missed that."

JC thought about that for a moment. "I guess ... it was in the way you asked," he said uncomfortably. "Like you didn't want me to agree. And as for me missing that ... maybe I did. You know you make me work my ass off for it, every time."

"You *like* that," protested Chris, getting more animated with each word. "You like chasing and you like being teased like that. It turns you on. What, you think I don't work for it, too? Just because I make it *look* easy ... "

"If you think *that's* why I want to fuck you all the time ... " JC started, getting frustrated himself. "If it is, then what the hell makes you think us being exclusive will work?"

"Yeah," said Chris quietly. "Yeah you're right. I just thought maybe ... no, okay. Can we forget I asked?"

"No," JC said stubbornly. "No. Stop fucking around with me, Chris." As good as it felt for CHris to be the one who was obviously uncertain right then, it still pulled on his heart a little to see it. More than he wanted to admit. "You're playing with, like, semantics and stuff, and I wish you'd just be straight with me. We don't always have to be messing with each other's heads, you know."

"I'm not *fucking* with you," said Chris. "We just did that. And we *always* do that, together. And since *you* aren't going with anyone else and *I'm* not going with anyone else, I figured ... we should probably go together. Doesn't mean I'm gonna stop flirting with Joey, though," he added, giving JC a faint grin. "I still know that gets you hot."

"Oh, piss off," JC said mildly, trying to get his head around what Chris was saying. "But ... you never said ... " He grunted in frustration. "The same goes for you? I'm the best part of *your* sex life?" He wouldn't have guessed that. Or wouldn't have let himself believe it.

"Yeah. Kinda," admitted Chris, looking awkward as he bowed his head and scratched the back of his neck. "Yes, all right? You think I've been sticking with you just cause no one else will have me? No. It's a choice, JC."

"You could have said," JC replied, reaching down to grab Chris's underwear and hand it to him. "You could have said, Chris. You're not as obvious as me. You never have been."

"I just *did* say," Chris pointed out as he took his underwear and set them down on the seat beside him. "*I* didn't know you didn't notice. I thought it was kinda hard to miss."

"Um," JC said quietly, biting his nails for a second, then getting back down on the floor to kneel in front of where Chris was sprawled. "So this is kind of awkward," he admitted, reaching for the discarded boxers and picking up one of Chris's feet, resting it in his lap. "Do you believe me, that I didn;t know?" This was suddenly very important to JC.

"Yeah, of course I do," said Chris, looking at him a little strangely. "Why would you say it if you didn't mean it? Just like why would *I* say any of this if I didn't mean it?"

"'Cause we sometimes fuck with each other," JC reminded him, taking the underwear and slipping it over Chris's foot, then grabbing his other ankle to do it on the other side. He started slipping the cotton up Chris's legs, moving between them himself as he pulled the boxers higher. "Just usually, it's with sex. And like you said before ... we never talk."

"Yeah, but with sex it's like this game, that gets us both all hot and bothered," said Chris, watching JC as he slid the clothing on his body. "It's was never mean or anything. I wouldn't ... I'm not *like* that. I just like to have fun. Do what feels good. And this *does*."

"So making us exclusive ... what would that do?" JC asked, still trying to sound reasonable, even as his hands brushed over the surprisingly soft skin on Chris's pelvis as he got the underwear on all the way. "Differently, I mean." He reached for his pants next.

Chris just kinda shrugged. "I wouldn't have to worry about you wanting to find someone else instead of me," he said after a moment. "And we could do other stuff together sometimes. Other stuff than fucking, I mean. Maybe."

JC sat back on his heels. They rarely even *kissed*, and Chris wanted to ... he didn't understand. He wasn't *opposed* to it, he just didn't understand. Chris wasn't supposed to want JC the way JC wanted him; it just never had been like that. "*Are* you worried?" he prodded, taking Chris's ankle again -- more gently this time, letting his fingers trail over the bones, trace over his achilles.

"Ha, now you're trying to get *me* to admit stuff," said Chris. Instead of tensing up, though, JC could feel him relaxing under his hands. "You could work for it a little. You could make me feel like you really want to know."

Looking up at him, JC waited until Chris was looking back before blinking slowly and dipping his head to kiss the inside of Chris's knee. It felt ... *so* weird, to touch him like that. Not that they couldn't be affectionate; they could. Or sexy; they could. JC just wasn't sure if he'd felt those two thing for Chris at the same *time* together, before.

He moved his hand to cup Chris's leg, behind his knee, then, and pushed gently so his legs spread enough for him to move his lips a little higher -- then looked back up. "I *am* trying. And I'm still reeling from what you made *me* say, earlier."

"All right," said Chris, still watching him. JC thought his eyes looked gentle. "I was worried. It's better, with you. I was hoping ... everything else would be, too, i guess."

"But," JC said quietly, wondering how many more times Chris could surprise him in that limo. "But. We've never been like that. We've never been anything *like* that." He ran his hands down Chris's calves; bent over enough to lick gently at the huge tattoo on his left leg. "I might suck. At that."

"Yeah, I *know*," said Chris, shivering almost imperceptably. "I *know* we've never been like that. Why do you think I feel so damn weird bringing it up? I just thought maybe we could. It would be ... different. It might be really good."

"Maybe," JC admitted, before climbing back up on his own seat and looking out the window. He had no idea what to say; it was the last thing he'd expected from Chris, and he wished he knew how to figure out what prompted it. He just worried it had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with Chris.

"Huh," said Chris slowly. "Maybe. Well, I guess that's a little bit better than "no" anyway." He pulled on the rest of his clothes almost violently. He pressed the button for the driver. "We're ready to go back to the hotel now, thanks."

JC stared at him. "Yeah, *maybe*. What did you want me to say? Yes, just like that, when it's something that's just never crossed my mind before? And don't you dare take offense to that; it's just that --like I said -- I never would have expected it from YOU. You like stringing me along too much. Would it still ... be like that?"

"Be like what, exactly?" said Chris, pulling his shirt on and accidentally tearing off a button. He looked at it and swore softly. "Just tell me you know what kind of balls it took to ask you for it in the first place, all right?"

"Not much, considering you made me say I like having sex with you more than anything else, first," JC retorted, trying to figure out when he missed the bus on this one. "And be like *that*. Be *exactly* like that: where you have the upper hand, always, and we end up doing whatever you want, whenever you want, always. You *know* how badly you have me whipped, Chris. Be like *that*."

"That's not *me*," said Chris, looking fiercely sincere. "That's *you*, JC. I don't make you do anything. I thought you did things the way you wanted to ... just like me. I thought you *liked* it, when I acted like that around you. You always looked like you got off on it ... "

"I *do*," JC insisted. "God, I do. I love it. But I also hate it. And I think ... I think if it was something ... other ... than sex -- I'd *really* hate it."

"I don't follow," said Chris, all his cockiness gone for the moment. "If *we* were something other than sex? Or if I did that, when it wasn't about sex. Because I don't and you *know* that."

"Yes, both," he replied, a little desperately. "How do I know you don't? This could be just another thing ... I know you don't *make* me do anything. Not, like, against my will. But you *do* make me, by looking the way you do, and talking the way you do, and ... making me want you the way you do. I *know* you didn't have to ask if you were the best part of my sex life; I know you *knew*. At least, with sex, it's ... it's a separate thing. I can handle having you lead me around by my dick. Because I know you want it too, and because it's just sex. Once it's something more ... " He turned and looked out the window again. "You'd *own* me, or something."

"I don't want to own you, JC," said Chris, fiddling with the rest of his buttons. "And I don't have anything I can tell you to make you feel better about this. Cause I've never done this before. Hey, maybe that? That I've never done this before?"

JC shook his head. "I just ... maybe," he repeated, closing his eyes and resting his cheek on the glass as they pulled up to the hotel. "I have to think."

"Yeah, you do that," said Chris, fully dressed now and definitely looking like they hadn't just fucked. They were silent for a moment, and in the middle of that silence their door was opened. "Who has the upper hand now, huh, JC?" he said as he slipped out of the car.