JC-Justin - alcoholic

"I refuse to stand here and listen to this, Joey!" Lance shouts, pushing the other man away. "I'm sick of all this!"

Joey stumbles back a few steps but otherwise doesn't back away, he reaches out to take the other man by the arm, not letting him leave. "No! We're gonna talk about this, damn it, Lance - don't you think I'm sick of it, too?!"

Lance shakes Joey's hand off of him. "Go. To. Hell." Lance says inches from his face.

Justin backs away until he hits the wall. "I'm *so* not playing referee again," he groans to no one in particular.

Joey laughs bitterly. "Too late, already there."

"So am I," says Lance. "I've been in hell since I walked in on you and *him*. I'm not talking about it."

"Nothing happened!" Joey practically screams. "JC just came over 'cause he was fucking drunk off his ass and he thought MY room was HIS room! I put him to FUCKING bed and that was IT!"

Justin brings the beer to his lips and drains half of it as he watches uncomfortably.

JC simply sits on the couch, unwilling to look any of them in the eye.

"I thought you had changed, Joe! I thought we had something REAL!" Lance shouts. "I should have known that it wasn't going to happen! You can't change!"

"Hey, how about this," says Justin loudly. "You shut up and sit there--" He points at one end of a couch, "--and you, Joey, shut up and sit *there*--" He points at the other end. "--and you both talk about this like *adults*."

"I don't feel like sitting right now, Justin," says Lance through clenched teeth.

"And I don't feel like listening to you yelling again," says Justin, "but we're all stuck in here with you so...suck it up or something."

"He. Fucked. JC." says Lance.

"'Changed'!? What the FUCK are you talking about? I've never cheated on you, Lance, not ONCE the whole time we've been together. You just always thought I did! I am so SICK of your accusations, how the fuck do you think that makes me feel?!"

"Shit," mumbles JC. "SHIT."

"Right now, I don't care how you feel," says Lance.

Justin drains the rest of the beer and sighs, going to sit next to JC on the other couch. "You didn't, right?" he asks quietly.

Joey nods, takes a shuddering breath. "Yeah, that's just how it always *is*, ain't it Lance? You don't care how I feel." Joey sits down.

JC lowers his head. "If I say 'not this time,' will it make a difference?" he whispers.

Lance clenches his fists, biting his lip hard. "I love you, Joe. That's why this hurts *so* much."

"But you have? Before?" asks Justin incredulously.

"I love you, too," Joey sighs heavily, brings a hand up to his face. "This isn't easy for me either. You accuse, I defend, then...then what? Shit. Why don't you talk to JC, huh? I'm tired of this cycle."

JC shrugs, unwilling to say anything else on the matter at that point. Justin might fancy himself the peacemaker, but JC wasn't about to make him his priest.

"I don't know, Joe. I don't know." Lance says softly. "Maybe this, US, is a bad idea."

"Maybe," Joey swallows, sinking a bit into the couch. "God, I'm tired."

Justin sighs and stands up again. "*This* is why I don't date," he says, walking away. "You're all fucked up."

"So am I," Lance finally sits down on the floor. "Can you tell me the truth? For once?"

Joey looks up to meet Lance's eyes. "Back when we first started going out, right at the beginning when we weren't sure - me and JC slept together. Once. After that it didn't happen again, I swear. Not when things got serious."

Lance sighs, dropping his head to his knees. "Before or after we started sleeping together?"

"Before," Joey grimaces. "But...but not that soon before."

"I don't know what to say," Lance sighs, lifting his head. "Someone else say something."

"I think y'all need to learn to jerk off more and stop sleeping around," mutters Justin.

JC looks up from the bar where he's fixing himself a whiskey sour -- not that he needs it. "That was forever ago, Lance. Joey loves YOU. Stop making it hard for him."

"I don't sleep around," Joey bites out, glaring at Justin.

"I have a headache," says Lance.

"You're not the only one," Joey mutters. He looks up and sees JC at the bar. "Don't you think you've had enough?"

"No," JC stares at Joey. "No."

Lance lies down on the floor, stretching out, his head buried on his arms. He tries to calm down, tries not to cry.

Joey looks down at Lance and sighs. He wants to comfort him but at the same time he knows that he's probably the *last* person Lance wants comfort from. He sinks back into the couch and bites his lip, struggling with the tension that bubbles inside him.

"I love you, Joey." Lance says softly.

Joey startles a bit, he looks down at the back of Lance's head and his expression softens. "I know. I love you, too."

Lance turns his head, looking at Joey, tears staining his cheeks. "I'm sorry I yelled. I just....I don't want to get burned again."

"You love him, he loves you, so what's with the yelling?" mutters Justin, joining JC at the bar. "Make me a drink?" he says.

Joey kneels down on the floor and reaches down to cup Lance's cheeks which are damp and cool. "I'm sorry I yelled, too, I realize how - how it must have looked. And I should have told you sooner about Josh."

"You were wrapped around him in our bed. What was I supposed to think?" asks Lance.

JC pauses. "Always. Strong, or strong?" He still can't look Justin in the eye.

"Stronger," sighs Justin.

"I move in my sleep, you know that," says Joey. "But like I said...it must have looked bad, I'd have freaked out, too. But YOU'RE the one I love, you're the one I want to be with, Lance. Just you."

Grinning ruefully, JC fills the glass with Jack and sweet-and-sour, and then tops off his own drink with straight liquor. "Cheers," he slurs.

Lance rolls over and looks up at him. "I....I don't know...." Lance trails off, looking away.

Joey smiles, touches Lance's face gently again. "You can trust me, Lance. I've never lied to you before, I'm not gonna start now."

"You lied to me about sleeping with Josh," Lance says softly.

Justin raises his glass to JC. "Cheers," he repeats, downing it. "That's better. Now maybe I can handle another night of those two."

"Good luck," JC mutters. "One's all *I* can handle. When I'm lucky."

"I didn't *lie*, I just...just kept it from you..." Joey groans, sits back. "Okay. I lied, I haven't lied since that, okay? Not about the big things, anyway."

"Was it worth it?" asks Lance.

"So you slept with Joey, huh," says Justin conversationally.

JC snorts. "What's that line? There was no sleeping involved?" His voice drops lower until it's almost inaudible. "The condom would barely be off before he'd kick my ass out the door. But thanks for asking."

"Christ," says Justin, shaking his head. "Why do you guys let people dick you around like that? You're better than that shit."

Joey is silent for a second. "Do you deliberate ask me questions that'll hurt you? How can I answer something like that?" He sighs, runs a hand through his hair. "I don't regret it, Lance, I won't say I do. But I *am* sorry I lied about it."

"Would you do it again?" asks Lance.

"Not the lying part." Joey looks away, sees JC talking to Justin about something and frowns.

Lance sits up. "So you would sleep with him again?"

"*People*?" JC snorts. "I'd like to see *you* try and say 'no' to Joey. Whether you assumed he'd dick you around or not."

"Not *now*," Joey says, a bit of anger leaking back into his voice. "But back then I was curious, and confused, and I didn't know WHAT I wanted. NOW, I do know."

"What DO you want? 'Cause I'm not really sure you want ME anymore or if you just want a warm body to hold and fuck each night."

Joey reaches out and grabs Lance into a intimate embrace, his arms wrapped around him, his voice low and breathy as he whispers in his ear. His eyes are half-closed as he mumbles, his chest pressed up against another chest. "I want *you*. I want *your* warm body to fuck and to hold, but I want everything else that comes with it, to." His lips brush the shell of Lance's ear as he talks. "Don't you want me?"

"I can say no to Joey," says Justin easily. "I can so no to *any*one. That's the beauty of celibacy."

"Fine," JC waves him off. "Talk to me when you've had a couple more of those, and he does that thing with his tongue to you. Talk to me THEN."

Lance shudders, knowing that he's going to crumble. Joey *knows* that he'll say anything Joey wants to hear if he's touching his ears. Fuck him. Goddamn fuck him. "Of course I want you."

Joey smiles with lips only, knows that Lance feels it and brushes them over the soft, vulnerable flesh behind Lance's ear, his tongue darts out briefly to wet the skin. "Good. 'Cause you're mine, and I'm yours, and at the end of the day that's all that fucking matters to me."

Justin rolls his eyes. "You obviously *let* him do that thing with his tongue. You guys have no will power. None of you. Would it really have been so hard to turn him down, for Lance's sake?"

Lance moans softly. "I hate you," he whispers. "I hate you. Why can't I say what I want to say? God, Joe."

JC pouts for a minute, frowning at his hands. "They weren't together, yet," he whispers. "I didn't know."

Justin eyes JC. "And the other times, afterwards?"

JC stares at Justin with red-rimmed eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about," he says flatly.

"Yeah," says Justin, holding out his empty glass to JC for a refill, "I think you do."

Joey tightens his grip, his hands do a slow slide down Lance's arms and he keeps them for a moment before bringing them back up to his face. He moves away from the soft neck so that their noses bump, his intensity burns into light green eyes. "Hate and love aren't all that different." He kisses him. "Just go with it, Lance."

Throwing an ice cube in Justin's drink, JC's frown deepens. "What do YOU know about it. And if you think getting me drunk is going to make me talk," he scoffs, "You better give up now."

Lance uses his last bit of resolve to push Joey away. "I want the truth. All of it."

"No," agrees Justin. "Getting you *sober* might get you to talk, but it would take a bigger man than I to pull *that* one off."

JC giggles at that, and stumbles back on to the barstool. "Right. You had your chance. Big man and all." He sighs. "I have nothing positive to say about getting sober."

Joey sits back a little, draws in his bottom lip before nodding. He eyes Lance carefully, as if measuring him up. "I told you the truth."

"You told me some of the truth." Lance sighs. "I know you, Joe. If you had told me everything, you wouldn't have tried to get me hard. There would be no reason for that distraction."

"Why do *I* get to be the adult?" asks Justin, looking up at the ceiling for a moment. "How fair is *that*?" "Just tried? As in didn't succeed?" Joey flicks his eyes down deliberately before looking up again into Lance's flushed face. "I don't know if there's anymore I have left to tell you, Lance."

Lance shifts a little. Joey knows he succeeded but Lance isn't going to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging it. "If you don't have anymore to say, then I suggest you leave me alone, because I don't trust you right now. And I *don't* believe you."

Joey arches an eyebrow and for a moment acts as if he's going to let it go. But then he quickly rises and swoops Lance over his shoulder, quickly carrying him across the living room, down the hall, and into the bedroom before he can even get a word out. He closes the door behind him, smiles sweetly. "I'm not leaving you alone, Lance."

"What are you trying to do?" Lance struggles in Joey's grasp. "Put me DOWN!"

JC snorts again and tries to stand up. "Adult, right." He looks over at the living room Joey and Lance just vacated, and sighs. "And I've done my part, it seems. So, if you're done lecturing me...?"

Joey puts Lance down and leans against the door, chuckles breathily and waits for the other man to calm down a bit before speaking. "Like I'm really gonna leave you alone."

"Lecturing?" says Justin. "I'm not lecturing. I just...get sick of this stuff sometimes. All these little dramas that you guys play out on, like, a daily basis."

"What are you afraid of happening if you leave me alone, Joe?" Lance asks him.

Joey takes slow, deliberate steps toward him, his head slightly down as he looks up with hooded eyes. The bedroom is pleasantly dark, the lights off and curtains drawn, but shimmery moonlight and streetlamps leak through the deep blue material. "Well...blue balls for one," he touches Lance's chest briefly before pulling his hand away. "And maybe I'm not done with you yet."

"Well, 'all the world's a stage'..." JC mutters. "I'm done. Passing out fulling clothed is more fun than this."

Lance crosses his arms, backing away a little. "I have a hand." He frowns. "What do you mean, not done with me?"

JC starts walking towards his room, talking over his shoulder at Justin. "Go lecture Joey, why don't you," he calls out. "Fulfill your little guardian angel kink."

"I have a hand too. Two of them in fact." Joey raises his hands, wriggles the fingers, then with a small grin pushes Lance back onto the bed which he has unknowingly backed towards. He crawled on top of him, slowly, their bodies not touching yet. "And I *mean*..." He went for the neck again, knowing it to be a vulnerable spot. "I'm not done with you."

"Whatever," says Justin, draining another drink. "I *know* Joey fucks around. And it pisses me off how he strings Lance along like this. But you go away now. You don't take *any* responsibility for what you've done. That's just like you."

Joey finds the pulse, laps it with his tongue and bites gentle with teeth.

Lance groans and thrusts up against Joey, wanting to feel him against him. "I. Hate. You." He moans through parted lips.

"Maybe," Joey acknowledges, moving his hand down between them, cupping Lance's erection in his hand. "But that doesn't stop you from wanting me, does it?" He kisses him deeply, his tongue dancing over teeth and cheek as he does. He grinds down a little, his hand sandwiched between their groins, and starts to work off Lance's pants as his mouth moves lower.

JC pauses in the hall, Justins' words sinking through despite the alcohol. "It wasn't me this time," he murmurs softly. "Not my fault." He stands up straight again, and turns to face Justin. "It *is* just like me," he yells. "So don't expect anything different...none of you want me to change anyway. It just makes the rest of you look better."

Lance squeezes his eyes shut, wanting to find some shred of resolve in him, some way to stop this for once. But he can't. His hands come up and pull Joey's head back up to his, plunging his tongue into Joey's mouth. Fucking bastard.

Joey groans, and his hand stalls momentarily at this new aggressive kiss. His hands finish with Lance's pants, and he yanks them down shakey legs before he pulls back, grins, and kisses the throat once again before moving down to Lance's erection.

"Think whatever you want, JC," Justin says as he pours himself another drink. He isn't even sure he can hear him. "I can't keep picking you up. Someday you're just gonna have to want it yourself."

Joey breathes on it heavily for a second before running his tongue slowly up and down the sides. He licks his lips and takes the head into his mouth, sucking slowly and gently.

JC shuts his eyes when he doesn't hear Justin respond. *Typical.* Closing the door to his bedroom, he throws himself across the mattress and ignores the tears that fall as he wills himself to sleep.

Lance balls the bedspread in his hands, turning his head so he doesn't see Joey going down on him. His body is warm, burning, twisting under Joey's lips, but tears are sliding down his cheeks as he tries to pretend that Joey isn't just trying to distract him. He gasps, partially from the blowjob, partially from the tears.

Joey sucks harder, taking Lance as deep into his mouth as he can, using his tongue and lips and *throat*, letting it get rough, letting it hurt him. He feels the small shivers of the body underneath him, feels the small thrusts, and he bobs his head more, swallows and licks.

Lance grabs Joey's head, wrapping his fingers tightly in the thick blonde hair and starts thrusting. Fine. If he wants to blow him, he was gonna get what *he* wanted out of it. Lance blinks back more tears as he thrusts hard now.

Joey whimpers but doesn't pull away, doesn't think he could even if he tried or wanted to. He whimpers again at another hard thrust, feels a few tears of pain spring to his own, but he continues to work his mouth weakly, his hands grip at Lance's hips.

"I. Hate. You." Lance moans, punctuating each word with a fierce thrust, coming explosively. He manages to lift his leg, putting his foot against Joey's shoulder and shoving hard. "Get the *fuck* away from me."

Joey hits the floor hard, just before he swallows. He wipes his mouth and chuckles weakly. "Yeah, I bet you do." He climbs back onto the bed, pulls the gasping man in close and runs his bruised lips over and pink mouth swollen from biting. "But you know what the difference between lust and love is, Lance? Lust don't involve hurt. You can fuck me - face, ass - as hard and as painful as you want...and I'll take it. And ask for more." Joey moves on top of Lance again, kisses neck, mouth, cheeks, and chest. Pulls the shirt off and tongues hard, erect nipples. "Do you *really* want me to stop?" He kisses him again, grinds his hips again, feels Lance get hard. Again.

"No," Lance gasps. "Did you do this to him? Did he react like I did? Did you like it then?" He writhes underneath Joey.

Joey takes off his own shirt and kicks off his shoes. The fly of his jeans is rough and hard against Lance, and Joey is slow as he thrusts up against him. His fingers massage lightly over his sides, his mouth comes down again, picking out all those spots he knows Lance will moan for. "No? Are you sure?"

"Don't. Stop." Lance manages to gasp out, wishing that his body wouldn't betray him so much.

Joey pushes his tongue against the hollow of Lance's ear, flicks it over the lobe while his fingers brush over Lance's throat. He thrusts again, a little harder, his knees move to straddle Lance's. "You want me to talk about JC?" He pulls away briefly, mouthes Lance's growing erection again. He takes off his jeans.

Lance scowls. "You better fuck me at the same time."

Joey strokes Lance's erection with one hand, watching his face closely as he does. "He hates me, too. Just so you know." He kisses him, almost gently, before pulling away, spreading Lance's legs and getting in between them, he sucks two fingers into his mouth while he continues to move his hand.

"Hate and love aren't that different," Lance quotes back to him, arching his back as Joey plunges his fingers into him.

Joey moves his fingers carefully, slowly building up speed and pressure, his own breath feels almost painful and hollow in his chest, and he watches Lance writhe and squirm against his hand. "No," he says softly, "they aren't."

Joey bends down and kisses him, removes his fingers and reaches over to the night stand for the lube. He coats his own erection liberally before positioning himself at Lance's hole. He kisses him again and again, deeply and surely. "But his hate was different from yours." He thrusts in slow.

"How? You fuck him. You fuck me. What's the difference?" Lance groans, rising to meet Joey's slow thrusts.

Joey moves a little faster, then slows down again, his lips are against Lance's as he talks, ignores Lance's question. "I love that you can let go with me, Lance. I love that you don't feel you have to hold back, to worry about hurting me, or bullshit like that. That it doesn't have to be all hearts and flowers all the time - anger's just as real an emotion as love. You let yourself go, and it turns me the fuck on that I bring that out in you."

Lance growls and bites down on Joey's lip, digging his fingernails into his back. "I *hate* that you do it to me. I'm," He moans loudly. "Supposed to be sweet and nice and god don't you dare *fucking* stop and you don't let me. And I fucking hate you," Lance grabs Joey's hair in his fist. "And you better not fucking stop because I love you too damn much."

Joey groans, feels pain and pleasure with equal bursts of intensity, and his eyes flutter shut, his hips thrusts faster. "I *like* it when you let that nice crap go, Lance. I like it when I get you so fucking mad that you want to hit me and fuck me at the same time. I swear to Christ half the time you're just acting with that sweet crap." Joey cups Lance's face roughly in his hand, kisses him hard. "The real you's much more fun."

Lance wraps his legs around Joey tightly, drawing him as close as he can. "Harder you bastard. Harder." He presses their lips together so harder he can feel them bruising, but he keeps pressing down with the hand fisted in Joey's hair, keeps moaning and biting and spreading his legs like a fucking whore and he can't stop. He doesn't want to stop.

Joey obeys and thrusts harder and harder, the bed frame rattles against the wall, Lance's legs squeeze so tightly around his waist that for a moment he's afraid it's going to suffucate him. His lips hurt, his *dick* hurts, but it's a fucking amazing hurt and he doesn't slow for a minute. His chuckle is low, throaty. "Feels good not to hold back, huh?" he manages. "Feels good not to have to *pretend*, to be gentle, to be nice and caring and all caresses and shit. Don't stop, Lance."

"Why the *fuck* do you do this? Why?" Lance moans, the pain and pleasure starting to meet, sending his body into small spasms, his cock being rubbed roughly between their bodies.

"Because I fucking *love* you and I've never loved *anyone* and I'll love you no matter what I do or what you do." Joey kisses him again, deep, strong, unyielding, neither man can breathe and for a moment longer than healthy, that's okay. He gives one last thrust before he comes, his cry muffled between them.

Lance feels himself coming again as he gasps for air, his orgasm slamming through his body spurred on by a lack of oxygen and Joey's words. He feels Joey's cry in the back of his mouth, swallowed up by his own.

Joey gasps again as he feels Lance spasm around his dick and he takes a moment to kiss him, slowly, less urgently, before he pulls out. He uses the bed spread to wipe them off, his hands gentle, and he lies down on top of him, his hand against Lance's face. He waits, watching Lance carefully for his reaction.

Lance turns his head away, hot tears sliding down his face against his own will. Again, his body betrays him. He opens his mouth to talk but no words come out. He gently runs the palm of his hand over Joey's back, touching him lightly.

Joey caresses the side of Lance's face, the other man's hand is warm and gentle on his back. "It doesn't make you a bad person," Joey says softly. "That you hate me but still want me. That maybe you kinda like hurting me, that you don't *want* to hold back or be...sweet, nice Lance. It might make *me* a bastard, but not you." He kisses him gently again.

"I shouldn't like it," Lance says softly. He fists the hand on Joey's back, running his knuckles along Joey's spine. "'You always hurt the one you love' or some shit like that." He kisses him softly, pressing their bruised lips together. "And we're both bastards."

"Why not? It's real, it's emotion, I *love* you. Even the parts of you that you try an' hide from everyone else but can't hide from me." Joey shivers from the kiss and the touch. "You are so fucking amazing, don't be ashamed of that. Don't say you 'shouldn't like it', 'cause there's no rule that says you shouldn't."

"Did I hurt you?" Lance murmurs, kissing Joey's throat gently.

"Yes," Joey moans hoarsely, baring his neck. "And fuck, Lance, call me sick, but I liked it. I like it when you want me so bad you can't...can't stop yourself."

"I wanted to hurt you. I wanted to so badly." Lance sighs, suckling gently on Joey's neck. "I wanted you to hurt like I hurt."

"Tha's okay..." Joey murmurs, closing his eyes and pressing against Lance's mouth. "You can hurt me..."

"Don't tempt me," Lance whispers, his voice husky. "I think I could hurt you a lot. And that *is* bad."

Joey pulls away, looks down at Lance and smiles. Slowly. It passes over his face like a shadow. "Really...Wanna show me?"

"No," Lance says softly. "I don't want to hurt you anymore." He lets a slow grin spread across his face and his fist uncurls, his nails raking against Joey's back. "At least not tonight. You do have to sing and dance tomorrow."

Joey shivers, closes his eyes and presses his lips against Lance's throat, his cock half-hardening at the promise/threat. "You think you can hurt me that bad?"

"I think I want to," says Lance.

"Just think?" Joey grins, reaches behind him to hold Lance's hand to his back, he grinds his hips down just slightly and whispers in Lance's ear, "When I fucked JC - he begged me for more."

"Did you give him more?" Lance asks before sinking his teeth into Joey's shoulder.

Joey groans hoarsely, his head falling limply foreword, his hands clutching at Lance's arms, whiting the skin. "No. I can't do with him, what I can do with you."

"Good," Lance licks gently at the bite mark, reforming a fist with the hand on Joey's back, moving it over the skin again. "I don't want you doing that with anyone else." He thrusts his hips a little. "I want you to fuck me again."

----------

Justin rolls his eyes in the direction of JC"s room and drains yet another drink. He's starting to feel it now, a faint buzz in the back of his brain. He's needed to feel that a lot these days, needed to distance himself from the fucked up lives of his friends. He made the choice not to date a long time ago, partly because of the shit his friends went through, and partly because it just didn't interest him much.

If he *did* date, though, it would definitely be guys. //Hell, who am I kidding? It would definitely be JC. The more fucked up he gets, the more I want him to come to me, let me make him better.// But he doesn't date, doesn't go out an look for it, just masturbates when he needs to get off and does what he likes the rest of the time. Better than the alternative.

Justin sighs and reaches down to rub himself a little through his jeans. Joey is such an ass to Lance, and Lance just takes it. And speaking of taking it, he can almost hear the sounds of them fucking in a nearby room. //God...I may not date, but can they *please* remember sometimes that I *do* have a libido?//

"Fuck. Now I'm horny," he says aloud, but no one's there to hear him. He takes his glasses off and shoves them down the bar, away from him, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. Chris is already asleep in his room, Dani's asleep in Chris's--another fucked up relationship--and Joey and Lance are in theirs and JC is in his and the lock on the bathroom is broken and...there's nowhere for him to go.

He reaches down and grips his crotch through his jeans, rubbing himself hard. with his palm and groaning. He wants more than this, but all his toys are in his bedroom and there's no *way* he's using any of them out here anyway. But God, he wants the feeling of being fucked right now. It's about the only thing on his mind.

Justin hears noises again and moans as he rubs himself, grateful that he's at least *alone* right now, if nothing else. He rips the buttons of his pants open, reaches his hand inside slipping past his straining cock to his tight ass. He lets a harsh sound come out of his throat as he teases his hole, rubs it and slides the tip of his finger inside. It's long past time to get the hell off the bar stool before he falls.

He slips in behind the bar--thankful that Joey has a *real* one and not a stupid bar-fridge or half-bar or something--and shoves a couple boxes out of his way, tearing his pants off and kicking them down over his socks. Lying on the cold, hard tile, his sweater the only cushion for his back, he finally grips his erection and begins jerking it, slowly.

Ne wants *more*...this isn't enough...just touching himself isn't what he wants, he *needs* anymore. Damn Chris for being in his room anyway. With a frustrated growl he struggles to his feet and gropes along the bar for his glasses. After putting them back on he looks for something--anything--that'll help him along. His relief lies in a bottle opener next to the sink, with that lovely, thick, perfectly smooth handle.

Justin grins a little as he picks it up, feels it for any hidden ridges or snags. He's used various things out of desperation before--knows how to make them relatively safe--but they've always been *his* before. He feels faintly naughty for using something of Joey's. Picking up his jeans again, he snatches a condom out of his wallet and slides it over the thick handle. Infection *bad*, dildo *good*.

He gets back down on the floor again, out of sight, and starts stroking his cock again. It hasn't gone down in the slightest, is maybe even harder because he knows what's coming now. He works one finger into his ass--lube would make it easier, but he's okay without--and begins thrusting with it as he pumps. Then he has two inside him, thrusting harder, twisting and curling and spreading.

When he feels he's ready--almost on the edge, panting, moaning, whimpering--he takes the condom-covered handle and thrusts it inside himself, pumping it as though he's being fucked. On it's own, it's almost enough to make him come. When he uses his other hand to roughly pump his cock again, it *is* enough and he spurts wildly on his hand and stomach, still fucking himself on the bottle opener.

Finally his thrusting slows and he pulls it out, moaning at the loss. He tosses the condom in the trash and the bottle opener in the sink, then wipes himself off with a few bar napkins. "Damn," he says aloud, still gasping for breath. "That was intense." A few moments later he's able to stand--barely--and pull his jeans back on. He washes his hands in the sink, then the bottle opener, then goes to sit down on the soft couch. His arm and his ass are sore, but it's a *good* sore, and there's a smile still on his face.

----------

"Really..." Joey muses. He grabs Lance's wrists abruptly and pins them above him to the head board. "How?"

"Just remember that I have to sing and dance tomorrow too," Lance twists a little in Joey's grasp, feeling himself harden quickly, amazingly for the third time tonight.

Joey sucks a finger into his mouth and then trails it slowly down Lance's erection before bringing it back up again, the whole time keeping the other man's wrists restrained. He leans in to kiss Lance again, slowly, but there's a hint of something more behind it. "You still want me to change for you?"

"I don't want you fucking anyone else," Lance says firmly, his eyes blazing. "If you can't do that, you better climb off me now."

Joey flicks his eyes up to meet Lance's, holds the stare. "I promise," he says gravely. Then he spreads Lance's legs, getting in between them, they're both still slick and wet from their previous times, and Joey just has to give a small thrust before he's deeply buried in the other man's ass.

Lance moans softly, licking his sore lips. "I DO hate you. Almost as much as I love you."

"That's okay," Joey kisses newly wetted lips, runs his own tongue over them. He thrusts, pushes, draws back, then does it again. They rock the bed, the gentle thumping of the frame against the wall is drowned out by their moans and Joey lets Lance's wrists go. "As long as you feel *something*..."

Lance runs his hands down Joey's sides. "I feel you," he moans loudly. "Oh God do I feel you."

Joey quickens his thrusts, biting his lip as he feels the hot, tight flesh of Lance just surrounding him everywhere. His skin sparks at Lance's touches, his lips burn with every little brush they make with the other man, and he buries his face quickly against his neck, kissing slowly, carefully, concentrating on each dip and curve of skin.

Lance's anger is gone now. In it's place just slow-burning passion. He whispers Joey's name repeatedly, feeling like his skin is on fire, every nerve ending sending pleasure signals through him. Gentler this time, he returns the thrusts Joey makes, trying to capture something he lost.

"Lance," Joey gasps, and he gives one last thrust before he comes, holding him tightly, squeezing and clutching at him with a desperation he didn't know was in him to feel. "Oh, Lance..."

Lance gently strokes Joey's back, still hard as Joey clutches him. "Shhh....you did good, baby. You did good."

Joey pulls out and kisses him, holding his face in his hands as he runs his lips all over. Then he quickly moves down the othe rman's body and takes him into his mouth. His throat is still tender but he doesn't care, he sucks and licks, thrusting himself roughly down.

Lance moans and resists thrusting himself deeper into Joey's throat, worried about pain this time, not wanting to hurt him. He arches his back a little, gasping as he comes again, shooting down Joey's tight throat.

Joey swallows and shivers. He pulls away and licks his lips, looking up at Lance for a moment before crawling in next to him, wrapping his arms around him. "I love you," he whispers, closing his eyes. "It's okay if...if you don't feel the same, all the time. Or ever. As long as you...as you let me do this." He holds him tighter.

Lance wraps his arms and legs around Joey's body, tangling them together. He kisses Joey's temple. "I do love you even when I hate you."

Joey smiles a bit, rests his head on Lance's shoulder. "That's...that's good."

"Don't sleep with Josh again," Lance says yawning.

Joey leans up on one elbow, runs his hand across Lance's forehead, eyelids, nose, and mouth. They rest on his chin. "I won't. Ever again. Not as long as I have you." He tugs a bit at Lance until he's sitting up. "We should go back out."

"Okay," Lance stretches experimentally, wincing a little. "I fucking hurt now." He rubs a palm against his thigh for a moment, looking at finger marks on his arm.

Joey chuckles a bit, kisses Lance's arm and thigh gently. "Me, too," he says, his voice hoarse as he tries to speak at a normal pitch. He grabs a fresh pair of boxers and slips them up on Lance's legs, grabs a clean t-shirt and pulls that on for him also before getting dressed himself. "Let's go."

Lance walks stiffly, his back aching, his hand holding Joey's tightly. He doesn't really want to see JC right now.

Joey squeezes Lance's hand back, opens the door to the bedroom and walks into the living room. "Hey, J-Just," he coughs, rubbing unconsciously at his throat.

Justin looks up, a small smile still on his face. "Hey," he says warily. "You guys all right now?"

Joey blinks at Justin, stops mid-step. "You just got laid."

"Uh....yeah," Lance smiles. "We...worked though some issues."

"What?" says Justin. "Do you *see* anyone else here?"

Joey sits on the couch and pulls Lance onto his lap so he can sit down a little more comfortabley. He massages gently at the tender and sore muscles of his back. He smiles lazily at Justin. "So what'd you use?"

Justin looks away. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Lance lets his head fall forward. Sitting isn't exactly comfortable at the moment, but he isn't gonna move if Joey's massaging his back. That feels too good right now.

Joey continues his gentle ministrations, occasionally planting a kiss against the thin material of Lance's t-shirt. He has to lower his voice to talk again, but it still hurts and he hopes it'll be better by tomorrow. "You got after-glow, man," he rasps.

Justin looks at his hands and sighs. "Well, you know me," he says. "I don't date."

"You should, masturbation is fun in a pinch but it don't beat the real thing." Joey runs a hand down Lance's back before resting his cheek against it. He's warm and soft. He smiles at Justin. "Just don't tell me you used the bottle opener, that's Chris'."

Lance sighs softly, feeling warm and loved in Joey's arms.

Justin laughs. "I have hands and I know how to use them," he says. "Being with someone else is just WAY too much trouble. And...as for your other question...as IF I'm gonna answer that...!"

"He's got his own toys anyway," Lance grins, looking over at Justin without lifting his head.

Justin blinks at Lance. "How the fuck do you guys know so much about my sex life, anyway?"

"Chris'll be jealous, him and that bottle opener go way back. And the trouble's worth it when you get past the bullshit." Joey smiles up at Lance, nuzzles his stomach now by bending down a little. "When you just be yourselves, 'cause that's who you really love."

Lance laughs a little, ruffling Joey's hair. "And Justin. I've roomed with you for ages." He blushes a little. "I'm not always asleep when you think I am."

"I roomed with you in Las Vegas, don't *think* I didn't hear that thing." But Joey smiles, holds Lance a little tighter.

"Well, then I just really love *me*," says Justin simply. "That's who I want to be with." He tries his best not to look embarassed at Lance's comment, but fails. "You suck, Lance, you really do. You *let* me think you were sleeping, didn't you..."

Lance laughs. "You bet. Most nights I ended up waiting till you fell asleep before getting out of bed and slipping into Joey's room. Thanks. It's always a nice turn on to watch you do that."

"And here I thought that was all me," Joey pouts, running his hands over Lance's back, massaging gently again. "Oh well...It was always nice to wake up to you sneaking into my room, all...*needy*..." He grins at Justin. "I guess I owe you one."

"Christ," says Justin, looking down at his hands. "I really, really hate you both."

"What's that about hate and love?" Joey asks Lance softly, looking up at him.

"Not much of a difference." Lance leans over and kisses him softly.

Justin groans. "For the record, I'm not even gonna *try* and be quiet anymore. Screw you guys."

Lance grins, leaning over to pinch Justin's cheeks. "Cool. I like the noises you make. When you let them slip out of course."

Joey kisses Lance's neck then turns to smile again at Justin. "Me, too."

"Damn you," he says, blushing. "Damn you both. That was, like, *private*...or something..."

"Then ya should've gone to the *bathroom*," Joey teases.

Justin rolls his eyes. "I thought it was more appropriate in my fucking *bed*room. You ever tried to use a--well, nevermind. The bathroom just...wouldn't do. Period."

"So....which one is your favorite?" Lance asks, trying to make him blush more. "You seem to use a few more then others."

"*Shit*, Lance!" says Justin. "*I* don't know."

"You can tell me. I've seen you use them." Lance grins. "And Joey won't say anything."

"It is cold, sterile...not as comfortable," Joey thinks out loud, continuing to stroke Lance's back, working out the knots and pinches. "On the bed you can lie down, spread out, really do it right."

"You're thinking about the time we fucked in the bathroom at that resturant, aren't you?" says Lance.

Justin blushes fiercely. "Oh. My. God. I can't believe you guys are asking this shit. I don't ask *you* guys about how you do it." He slumps down and rests his chin in his hands. "I like 'em big. Is that explicit enough for you?"

"So do I," Lance grins, patting Joey on the cheek.

Joey grins and nuzzles Lance's neck. "That resteraunt bathroom was *posh*."

"And now I know exactly why I don't ask," mutters Justin.

"Embarrassed, Justin?" asks Lance. "'Cause I'm not."

"Either am I. Embarrassment? I vaguely remember what that feels like..." Joey grins. "At least I know what to get Justy this year for Christmas."

"Ooo....good idea. But how would you wrap that?"

"Depends what kind of mood you're in. Saran?"

"Hell yeah, I'm embarassed," Justin says. "And you *wouldn't*! I have to open my presents in front of my *parents*, guys. And in front of *JC*. I'd never live it down..."

Lance frowns.

Justin glances at Lance. "What?"

"JC or your parents?" Joey asks, curiously. "Why does it matter if JC's there?"

"Nothing," Lance mumbles leaning back against Joey.

Justin stares at Joey. "I *so* don't want JC to know as much about what I do as you two. That's, like, SO embarassing."

Joey drops his head against Lance's chest, stroking his back softly. Joey blinks up at Justin. "Why is it embarassing with him and not us? You've known him longer."

"Nevermind," says Justin. "You wouldn't understand. And why are you so interested, anyway? I *know* y'all are already getting *quite* enough sex of your own."

"True. How many times tonight?" Lance asks.

Joey kisses Lance. "Never enough for me."

"God. At least *I* only did it once," mutters Justin.

"You can do it again. I haven't gotten to watch in a few weeks," Lance grins.

"Yeah, go for it, Justin." Joey rests his head on Lance's shoulder. "I wanna see what turns Lance here on so much."

"What?" says Justin, his head flying up. "No. No way, you guys. Nuh uh."

"That's a shame," says Lance. "You put on a good show."

"I bet he does." Joey kisses Lance's back again, smiles secretly. "I bet we do, too."

Justin hides his face in his hands. "I can't believe you just said that, Lance. I *so* didn't know you were watching."

"I was going to say something the first time it happened, but hell, I couldn't bring myself to do that. It was just so....hot." Lance shrugs. "Sorry."

"This is really, really embarassing," says Justin quietly. "I hope you know that."

Lance feels a brief twinge of guilt at embarassing him like that. "I really am sorry. I should have said something. Or at least turned away."

Justin laughs a little and looks up. "Well, it's a little late *now*. At least I know you approve of my, uh, technique...and all..."

Joey starts to massage carefully Lance's shoulders. "No harm done on either side," he says. "Little voyeurism never hurt no one. Don't tell me you didn't get a *littile* off on hearing us in the bedroom, Just."

Lance lets out a small sigh. "It's great, Justin."

Justin licks his lips a little and glaces at Joey. "It can be...uh...inspirational, yeah. But I"ve never *peeked*." He's even more embarassed to find he's getting turned on again, just talking about it.

Lance nudges Justin. "It's only fair you get to peek if you want. I've peeked so many times."

Justin snorts. "I'll keep that in mind next time I hear you two going at it."

"We'll make some extra special noises, just for you," Joey grins.

Joey then sighs a little. "We've never made Justin peek, Lance."

"We'll have to try harder." Lance sighs. "It'll be tough on both of us, but I think we can make Justin peek."

Justin looks down again. "You do that." He squirms a little bit in his seat. "Uh...you guys gonna be needing your bedroom for the next while?" He's able to resist touching himself, but barely.

Lance grins. "If you're using our bedroom, we get to watch."

"It's only fair," Joey agrees, he looks down at Lance's lap then shakes his head, chuckling a little.

Justin groans. He's almost turned on enough to say yes. "What's the point?" he says. "All my...fun stuff...is in my own bedroom anyway."

"You can always use whatever it is you used before. We even have lube." Lance says enticingly.

Justin moans. "Tease," he says. "But I don't think I want you guys seeing *that*."

"Okay," Lance relents. "You can use Joey." He laughs a little. "Seriously, you can use the bedroom, but I will listen."

Justin grins at him. "I'm thiiiiiis close to saying yes. You know that don't you?"

Joey raises an eyebrow. "Really? Interesting."

"To what? Using Joey? Or letting us watch?" Lance fingers gently creep up Justin's thigh.

Joey slips his hand under Lance's t-shirt and strokes evenly. "And here I thought we were just teasing." He watches Lance touch Justin and kisses gently the back of his neck.

"I'm not using Joey," says Justin. "I don't have sex with other people." He shifts in his seat again, wishing he had the nerve to touch himself in front of them. Lance's fingers are doing *nothing* to calm his arousal down.

Lance quickly grabs Justin's hand, bringing it to his crotch, using Justin's fingers to stroke him.

"You don't know what you're missing," Joey mumbles. His arm snakes around the front of Lance's chest and he pulls him back suddenly against his own. "Just so you know," he whispers. "You're turning me on again."

"Good," Lance whispers, letting go of Justin's hand.

Joey runs his hand down the front of Lance's chest, grins against the back of Lance's neck. "I like your kinky side."

Justin jerks his hand away like it's been burnt. "There's a *reason* I don't have sex with other people," he says with a sigh. "It's a choice." He licks his lips and looks down. He can practically *see* his cock throbbing, now. "God damn fuck."

"I'll let you see it more often from now on," Lance says softly. He looks at Justin's cock for a moment. "Aren't those jeans tight?"

Justin moans. "Yes. God damn you both."

"There's a zipper right there." Lance points at it. "Need help with it or something?

"Strip," Joey says easily, shrugs. "And tell us this reason for not having sex with other people."

"Because," Justin says, trying to discreetly touch himself, if only for a moment. "I like my own company. I *like* the way I have sex with myself. I get it *how* I want it, *when* I want it and I don't have to worry about pleasing anyone else. I don't have to make conversation afterwards and I don't have to buy myself dinner. No fights. No complications. It's simple."

Joey watches Justin's not-so-discreet touch and nods. "You make a good arguement, but I've done both and I don't think I could compare hearing my own moans to hearing someone else's. To feeling that warm body pressed against mine." He pauses. "Case in point - " he licks the spot on Lance's neck he knows always gets him.

Lance moans softly, shuddering a little. "Not fair."

Joey smiles. "But to each his own." He squeezes Lance gently.

Justin nods and can't help but touch himself again. "Exactly."

Lance moans again, louder this time as Joey licks his neck again.

Joey smiles, pleased with Lance's reaction, then chucks his head in the direction of their bedroom. "Go take care of yourself before you injure something, Curly. But keep in mind that me and Lance WERE in there for an extended period of time, and we weren't just *talking*."

Justin licks his lips again and hesitates. "You're gonna watch, aren't you."

Lance 's eyes sparkle. "Only if you let us. Honest."

Joey brings Lance's ear down towards his mouth. "You're obsession with watching the youngin' jerk off makes me jealous," Joey whispers, but there's more amuesment in his voice then anything else.

"And you fucking JC makes me jealous," Lance whispers back.

Justin hesitates just one more moment before jumping up off the couch and dashing into the bedroom. It reeks of sex. He very nearly tears his pants and shirt off, then stops for a brief, agonizing moment. He bites his lip, hard, then decides to shut the door only halfway, closing his eyes tightly as he does. Another moment later he's on the bed, his glasses thrown in the night table and a half-empty tube of lubricant in his hand.

Joey watches Justin dash into the bedroom before holding Lance tighter on his lap. "Do you believe me when I say I won't touch JC again? Ever?" There's concern in his voice, it's a big question.

Lance looks into Joey's eyes. "Yeah. I believe you." Lance leans forward and kisses him. "He left the door open. Wanna watch?"

Joey lets out a soft sigh of relief, returns the kiss. "Can we watch from here? I don't want to let you go."

Lance wriggles out of Joey's grasp, standing up and pulling him off the couch. "I'll make it worth your while to watch from there. I promise."

Joey stands and kisses Lance again, hugs him closely. "Okay."

Lance pulls him over to the door. They can see Justin on the bed and Lance sighs happily. It *has* been awhile since he's gotten to see this. He wraps his arms around Joey from behind him, slipping his hands into Joey's boxers. "Now watch." He orders.

Joey shudders, bites his lip and nods, his eyes focus slowly to the dark to see Justin on the bed.

Justin squirts some lubricant on his hand, having to make do since he's not going to go searching Lance and Joey's bedroom for something to use. He makes sure all his fingers are coated, then lifts his knees and abruptly thrusts one of them inside of him. He lets out a long low moan as he thrusts a single finger in and out of his ass.

"Shit," Joey breathes, closing his eyes for a moment and only hearing the sound of Justin's fingers moving inside him, the slight squeak of the bed, and Lance's breath in his ear. He opens them again and watches intently, feels himself harden more from the sight in their bedroom and Lance's hands on his cock.

Lance slowly runs his fingers over Joey's cock, teasing him as he watches Justin intently.

Justin is already a bit loose from his earlier adventure, and is quickly able to add a second finger, fucking himself on both of them. He gasps and moans as he does, thrusting them roughly, knowing he can take it. Knowing he *has* taken it, and much more. He doens't even touch his aching cock, wanting to see if he even needs to.

Joey groans and clutches the doorframe. "Jesus Christ..." He thrusts back a little, his ass presses against the front of Lance's boxers.

"Easy baby," Lance murmurs, thrusting back against Joey, his hands starting to squeeze and stroke a little harder.

"Oh God," Justin breathes, speaking aloud, thrusting harder and faster. "More," he whispers, working a third finger inside. This takes a little bit longer, but it's worth it. He's beginning to feel full, feel truly fucked. He grazes all three fingers hard along his prostate and cries out softly. He's still trying to stifle his noises somewhat, but knows he won't be able to much longer.

Joey watches Justin as he fucks himself with his fingers, his lips parted and his breath shallow as Justin adds *another* finger. Lance is pushed up hard behind him, his hand insistent down Joey's boxers, and Joey moans out loud again, his eyes flutter shut.

Lance pulls one hand out of Joey's boxers, wetting his finger with his mouth. He backs away a little, slipping his hand down the back of Joey's boxers, thrusting a finger into him quickly, roughly.

"Keep watching," He says to him, firmly, tugging on his cock.

Justin 's legs lift him even higher off the mattress as he fucks himself on his fingers. Grabbing a pillow from the other side of the bed, he shoves it under his tailbone and the small of his back to try and support himself. His breathing is getting more and more ragged, his gasps and moans louder, his thrusts more frantic.

"Fuck," Joey hisses, and he thrusts back against Lance's hand, forces himself to nod and open his eyes.

Lance thrusts his finger into Joey harder, his other hand cupping Joey's balls for a moment. He hasn't touched himself, hasn't thrust against Joey anymore. He's just watching, his eyes wide, his mouth open, his breathing shallow. He adds another finger.

Justin's moving faster now, his hand moving so fast it's almost a blur, and sounds of pleasure are spilling from his mouth without abandon. Joey feels hot all over, Lance thrusts two fingers inside him, a hand is pulling at his cock but he needs more. "Lance," he pleads, his voice ragged.

Lance removes both hands, quickly stripping off his own boxers and then Joey's. He wraps one arm around Joey's waist, spitting on his other hand and stroking his cock. He knows this is what Joey wants. With one quick thrust he is inside him.

Justin bites his lip, hard, and forces himself to slow down, almost stopping. Curling his fingers close together, he gasps as he manages to get a fourth in. Slowly, carefully, he begins to thrust again, soon able to get his hand inside past all his knuckles, only stopped by his thumb which is bracing his thrusts from the ouside. He shouts aloud as his prostate is stimulated, as he feels amazingly, totally filled.

"Shit," Lance moans.

"Oh God," Justin shouts, curling his fingers and thrusting them carefully. "Oh god oh god oh god oh god." He arches his back, his legs straining, his teeth clenched. "Oh my fucking God."

"Fuck!" Joey groans and his hands grip the door and its frame, he thrusts back hard against Lance, giving him permission to be rougher, to move faster and harder. His legs suddenly feel unsteadily, they shake under him but he manages to stay up right. His eyes catch what Justin is doing and he moans again, continues to thrust back against Lance.

Lance grabs Joey's hips, holding him tight. He begins to fuck Joey's ass as hard as he can, struggling to keep his eyes open, listening to a combination of Joey and Justin moaning. He bites his lip, gasping for air.'

Justin is vaguely aware of the other men's presence, but he doesn't care as he fucks himself on his hand. It's incredible, amazing, something he hasn't done for himself in a long time. He can feel his orgasm rising up in him--an exquisite, almost painful sensation. He thrusts one last time, hard, deep, and his cock pulses, spraying his chest with hot fluid.

Joey is gnawing at his lips, his head bowed but his eyes still locked on the image on the bed. Justin's body is a pale shadow in the dim light of the room, sweat glistens off his body and what he's doing is amazing, but...It's all Lance. Lance behind him, thrusting, moaning, touching his hips and back. Lance fucking him hard, filling him with his cock as he moves desperately against him. Joey moans.

Justin cries out, and doesn't care who hears, as his orgasm rips through him.

Lance moves a hand to Joey's cock, jerking him quickly and smoothly, matching his hard thrusts. He's so close and he wants Joey there with him. He sees Justin come, hears the shouts. Incredible.

Joey presses his arm over his eyes, his mouth is open, he hears Lance's ragged breaths, and when he feels him reach around to jerk him off, it's all he needs to feel the pressure that had been building up inside of him finally explode. He comes with a cry, Lance's name on his tongue as he feels himself tighten around the other man's cock. When he's done, he has to hold himself up, his legs nearly useless.

Lance feels Joey tightening around him, and he thrusts hard, using the tightness to wring his orgasm out of him. He shouts, his nails scraping down Joey's back, his arms coming to rest around Joey's waist, holding the other man up.

Justin spends a few moments just gasping for breath, then reluctantly removes his hand. He wipes it and his chest clean with a few kleenexes, then moves the pillow back to where it belongs and just lays there, completely spent, his mind still reeling. It takes a few *more* moments for him to realize just what he's done. It's then he begins to blush again.

Joey lets out a slow, ragged breath. He feels the tracks of Lance's nails on his back and he shudders slightly as Lance withdrawls. He turns around, slumps against the wall and pulls Lance close, kissing him a little numbly. "I'm sore *all* over..." he mutters.

Justin raises a hand to cover his face. "Oh my god," he whispers.

Lance kisses him softly. "So am I. Bed?" He gestures.

Joey nods and pulls Lance into the dark room, still a little weak kneed as he goes.

Lance climbs into the bed, pulls Justin's hand away from his face and kisses him softly. "Thank you."

Joey leans over Lance to kiss Justin as well. "Yeah." He falls back, resting his head against the cool pillow.

Justin is startled by Lance's presence, even more so by the kiss. "I'll...go now," he says, though he's not sure he can even stand yet. "Uh...thanks for the loan."

"No." Lance says, wrapping his arms around Justin. "You deserve the warm body after that one. Stay with us."

Joey nods, his hand stroking Lance's naked hip. "Yeah. Stay."

Justin moves away a little, still embarassed. "I'm not sure I can..."

"Why not?" Lance asks, pulling him closer again. "We aren't going to do anything to you. Promise."

Justin shrugs. "I've never been naked with anyone before," he says. "And you guys just watched..." he turns his head away. "I can't believe I let you watch..."

"Justin?" Joey asks softly, propping himself up on his elbow. "Don't be embarrassed. And like Lance said, we won't try anything. Are you sure that's the only reason or is there something else?" Joey smiles a bit. "*Someone* else?"

Lance strokes Justin's cheek softly. "It was amazing, Justin." He kisses him again on the cheek this time. "We'll put on clothes if it'll make you more comfortable."

Justin chuckles, his face still red, and not just from the exertion. "There's never gonna be anybody for me. This is just...weird. You're touching me and I'm still, you know, *tingly*."

Lance removes his arms. "No touching. Got it. Sorry."

"No one? Not even...JC?" Joey asks, resting his head against Lance's shoulder but still watching Justin carefully.

Lance tenses a little.

Joey strokes Lance's arm slowly, turns his head to kiss his shoulder.

Lance sighs and forces himself to relax. He can't tense up everytime he hears JC's name.

Justin bites his lip. "IF--and this is a big IF--I ever get together with someone. With JC, okay, yes. IF it happens, it'll be a long time from now, when I have the energy to devote to someone other than me. And when he's less fucked up." He realizes unexpectedly, that he misses Lance's arms around him. "This is...kinda nice, actually..." he admits finally.

"So....do you want to cuddle then?"

Joey strokes Lance's arm, a little sadly. A sadness he can't quite place or reason out in his head.

Justin chuckles softly. "I can't exactly get up..." he admits. "And I have nowhere else to sleep....so...okay? Just, be gentle." He grins at both of them, squinting to see them a little more clearly.

Lance puts his arms around Justin again, pulling him close. He plants a soft kiss on his neck. "Gentle. Got it." He turns his head to look at Joey smiling at him.

Joey swings one arm around them both and puts the other under his own head. He nuzzles up against Lance's back, kisses his shoulder again before shutting his eyes. He feels a little lost not to feel Lance holding him back but that's okay, Justin needs it more now, anyway. "Goodnight," he whispers.

"Night, baby." Lance murmurs, curling as close to him as possible.

"This is...strange," says Justin. "But nice." He's not sure he can stay there the whole night, but he's comfortable enough. For now. "Good night," he whispers before closing his eyes.

Then, with a small smile, Joey presses his lips to Lance's ear. "I love you. I won't share you with Justin, anymore then you'll share me with Josh."

"I know," Lance whispers back. "This is just for tonight."

Joey skids his hand briefly over Lance's stomach. "Good."

----------

There aren't any arms around him when he wakes up, Justin realizes, remembering the tangle of limbs he'd been a part of when he'd fallen asleep. He preferred it this way, really -- Joey and Lance curled around one another one one side of the bed, him stealing all the covers and snuggling into the other. He doesn't want to be here when they wake up, doesn't want them to *expect* anything of him, like touches or smiles or kisses. Stiffly, he slides his legs out from under the covers and sits up, groping for his glasses and sliding them onto his face so he can see the time. 4:34 a.m. High time he found some place of his own to sleep the rest of the night.

JC pauses before flipping on the light switch behind the bar, stumbling a little bit into the wall. It's late. Or early. But everyone else is asleep, and he doesn't need to deal with explaining to any of them why he woke them up getting another drink in the middle of the night. If he even could. The truth is, he doesn't know the last time he slept more than three hours in a row -- his body was too accustomed to waking itself up after going that long without alcohol. He needs another shot or two to make it through the rest of the night.

So the light stays off; he uses the reflection from the moonlight off the chrome of the appliances to see well enough to grab a tumbler and the bottle of whiskey he had been using before and sit down on the bar stool. He pours the amber liquid with relatively steady hands; only the slightest drip trickling down his skin. He laps it up with his tongue, slowly, and then rests his head on the counter.

Justin stands up and slips on his boxers, not worrying about any of the rest of his clothing. Lance and Joey will bring him anything they find. Probably making a production of it when they do, but he'll take that change. Right now he doesn't feel much like fumbling around in the dark, doesn't want to take the chance of waking them. He leaves the room and closes the door as quietly as he can, stealing down the hallway and back to the living room. JC is slumped over the bar -- a familiar sight to him, but certainly not one he expected to see right NOW. He moves in a little closer, but JC shows no signs of moving so he begins sneaking past him towards the bedrooms. If JC is in HERE, then he can have a bedroom to himself. Normally he'd use the privacy to have a little more fun, but right now his body's just too damn tired. Not that it was THAT much more of a workout than he usually gave it, but his sleep had been uneven and he was left groggy and sore. "Stay the fuck out of my bedroom," JC says in a scratchy voice, without lifting his head. "You can't be stealthy for shit, you know that?"

Justin winces, then turns around slowly to face JC who's still slumped over with his head on the bar. "Where the fuck am I supposed to sleep, then?" he asks quietly. "It's not like YOU'RE using it or anything. Looked to me like you were sleeping with Jack again tonight."

"I *will* be using it, as soon as I finish this," JC replies, before straightening up and swinging around slowly on the stool to stare at Justin, not even arching an eyebrow at seeing him in his state of undress. He takes a swallow of his drink, then continues. "And what's wrong with wherever you *were* sleep-- wait." His eyes, bloodshot to hell, narrow. "Where *were* you sleeping?"

"I wasn't, really," says Justin, shrugging non-committally. "Joey snores. But I guess you already know that."

JC leans a little too far off the stool, torn between getting pissy at the obvious dig, and trying not to look surprised at Justin's admission. "He doesn't when I'm through with him. You need to work him harder."

Justin shoots JC a look of disgust. "I didn't fucking SLEEP with him. You think I'm gonna go this long, then start with JOEY? Yeah, whatever."

"You could do worse," JC arches an eyebrow knowingly. "So if you didn't sleep with him, what the hell are you doing sleeping with him? Poor baby get lonely?"

"You REALLY don't want to know," says Justin, rolling his eyes. "It certainly wasn't INTENTIONAL. So what the fuck are you doing up, JC? I thought you were passed out somewhere."

"Fuck you," JC mumbles, turning back around to his drink. "I wasn't passed out. I was asleep; now I'm not. But I will be again, soon, IN MY ROOM. So stay the fuck out of it. You can use the couch."

"Christ," says Justin, just staring at him in resignation now. "Whatever. Just let me get a blanket, okay?" He taps his fingers on the bar in front of JC's face as he passes by in the other direction "Nice that you can't be up for five minutes without having a drink, isn't it?" He flings open the hall closet and yanks out a folded quilt.

"I don't remember you being so critical when I was pouring shots for your ass a couple hours ago," JC sneers. "You needed it to take both of them on at once, or something?"

"Get over it," says Justin, dumping the quilt on the couch and trying to keep his voice down. "You know damn well I didn't sleep with either of them. Justin is still a fucking virgin. Happily, I might add. Forever and always. "

JC just laughs, not caring who he wakes up, and pours another drink. "Yeah, okay. *Happily.* You're so fucked up. And you know I'm just gonna let my mind wander about this until you tell me what you were *really* doing in their room."

"*I'm* fucked up?" says Justin, snorting. "I'm the only guy in this place with his shit together. But hey, you all like your little dysfunctions, so who am I to argue?" He spreads the blanket out, then walks back over to the bar. "As long as you're gonna keep me up, you want to pour me one of those?"

"What, you can't be up five minutes without needing one?" JC retorts sarcastically even as he stretches over the top of the bar to grab another glass for Justin. "And don't worry, I won't keep you up much longer, since you're so *straightlaced* and all."

"You're such a nasty drunk," mutters Justin, sitting down on the stool next to him. "What are we having?"

JC just barely manages to not stick out his tongue at Justin. "*I* am having whiskey. But I was thinking of making you a Shirley Temple, baby boy. And I'm not drunk."

Justin snorts again. "I bet I have a more exciting sex life than you do," he says. "And I don't even have to sleep with someone else's boyfriend to do it. Whiskey will be fine, thanks."

"No, just him *and* the boyfriend," JC snaps back, blaming Justin for agitating him and making him splash some on the counter as he pours the drink. He has to restrain himself from bending over and licking it off the smooth surface of the bar.

"For the record," says Justin, sipping the drink calmly. "THEY crawled into bed with ME." He shivers a bit. "It was weird."

JC peers at Justin, trying to figure out what the HELL happened, and then decides it'll take too much effort. And he doesn't want to look like he cares enough to ask, again. "You're right, I don't want to know. So ... that's why you left, for the warm comforts of the couch? Or were you hoping I'd let you in bed with *me*?"

"The couch is fine. I guess it was too much to hope that Chris and Dani had made up." He sips the drink again. "I don't like sleeping with people, I think, so I'm hardly going to crawl in bed with YOU. You probably drool. And flail. And you REEK, JC."

JC shrugs, seemingly unconcerned by that. "You don't like sleeping with people you *think*?" he asks instead. "Here's a tip: try it with one guy -- er, girl -- at a time, next time."

"I think I'll stick to me, myself and I, thanks," says Justin. "The three of us are pretty happy together." He finishes the drink and shoves the glass aside. "So what the fuck ARE you doing up at 4:30 in the morning?"

"Cause you care?" JC asks, letting his head fall back on the bar again. "Nothing. What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Yeah, I fucking care," says Justin with a sigh. "Even if no one ELSE does. I asked, didn't I? Besides ... I can't sleep while you're still up."

*Yeah, thanks for the reminder,* JC thinks. "WHy the hell not?" he says, instead. "The light's not on. I can be quiet. You slept with LANCE like two FEET from you, and I lock my DOORS cause of that guy."

"I actually fell asleep with his arms around me," says Justin candidly, shivering again. "That was just ... wrong. I don't think I can do that again. Maybe I'll just stay up and get some shit done." He pauses. "Maybe I'll fix the damn lock on the bathroom door, too."

JC finishes the rest of his drink and stands up, careful to hold onto the bar in case he doesn't get his footing quite steady beneath him. "Why would you sleep in the bathroom? Or is that another thing I don't want to know?"

"I wasn't talking about SLEEPING," says Justin, chuckling a bit. "You need help getting back to your room?" It's a sincere offer, if bitter, and he hopes JC realizes that.

"No," says JC shortly, although he's not sure about that. He wasn't paying too much attention to how many drinks he had once Justin started harassing him. But he doesn't need any more of Justin's holier-than-thou shit tonight. "Look, go ahead and sleep in my room, if you want. I can crash out here. I know you'd probably just try and get me to let you stay with me in there anyway." He tries to make it come out like a joke, it doesn't really work.

"Yeah. In your dreams, Chasez." Justin looks him up and down and once again curses the fact that HE'S the fucking adult around here, and never had much choice in the matter. "Fuck. All right. Let's get you to bed."

"Fine," JC pouts, ineffectually slapping at Justin's hands. "Don't take me up on the offer to stay out here. After all your fucking moaning on the subject."

"You're drunk," says Justin flatly. "You'd roll off the fucking couch and hurt yourself." He's fucking TIRED of taking care of JC. Sick to death of it. Where was fucking Joey when you REALLY needed him? "Just come on, all right? I don't have the patience for this right now."

"The bed's farther off the ground," JC points out petulantly. "And I don't need your fucking HELP." He takes a couple steps and stumbles over the stool at the end of the bar.

Justin grabs his arm firmly, but not tightly. "Why do you do this to yourself?" he mutters as he makes sure JC is steady on his feet, not really expecting an answer. He's never gotten a decent one before, after all. With his other hand he straightens his glasses that were knocked askew when JC swayed right into him. "Come on. To the bedroom, already."

"To the batcave!" JC calls, then giggles. He's not as drunk as he's pretending to be, in all honesty. But he *is* a little hurt that Justin didn't even really consider his offer to sleep on the couch, so now he's gonna play up the act for all it's worth. Unfortunately, it really is the only reason any of the guys pay attention to him -- something he usually avoids, especially from Justin; but sometimes even he gets lonely. He wraps his arm low across Justin's hips and starts down the hall.

Justin half-drags JC to the bedroom, sighing all the while. So much for getting a decent's night's sleep, for him. Not that he isn't used to that, but it's nice when they're having a little bit of down-time to try and catch up. "I'm not undressing you," he says flatly as they struggle through the doorway. "Fuck. When are you gonna grow up, anyway? This whole falling-down drunk thing is getting old, and I'm sure the fucking-Joey thing will, too, soon."

"For me, for him, or for the rest of you?" JC asks, then shakes his head, flinging himself down on the bed and peeling off his sweatshirt. "Nevermind, I don't care, anyway. And I didn't fuck him tonight, I told you that -- I don't even remember going to his room." He fumbles with the waistband of his track pants for a second, then seemingly gives up and lays back.

"Yeah, THERE'S a great excuse," says Justin, arms crossed across his chest, just watching him now. "'I don't remember'. I'm sure Lance will appreciate that just SO much." He pauses, screws up his face, pushes his glasses up his nose. "You need anything?"

JC rolls over and presses his face to the mattress. "Not from you, baby boy. And it isn't an excuse for anything -- I don't remember going in there, but that doesn't mean I can't tell if anything happened." He snorts a little. "But you wouldn't know much about that, would you?"

Justin grunts, used to those kinds of jibes from the other guys. All of them. "Can't see how it's so much different," he says, like he always does. "Fine, whatever. You can fucking take care of yourself if you need anything, then. Not that I'm sure you can do ANYthing for yourself, most of the time." He's still standing there, still glaring at him.

"I can do most things for myself," JC protests, sitting up on one elbow when it becomes apparent that Justin is just going to sit there and STARE at him. He smiles slowly and continues in a huskier voice: "Except those that just aren't as fun alone. Something else you wanted?" He doesn't usually tease Justin like this, but he *was* thrown off by seeing the younger man come out of Joey and Lance's room. Plus, if Justin's gonna give him a hard time about drinking, well...he has it coming.

Justin blinks away his pure frustration at JC's mocking flirtation -- not NOW, goddammit -- and gives him another annoyed and disgusted look. "Yeah, I want my first time to be with a guy so drunk he can hardly stand up, let alone GET it up, I'm sure. You're a moron, sometimes, JC."

"And you're such a spoiled kid," JC bites back, not breaking eye contact. "*And* you don't know what you're talking about. I'm not too drunk to rock your fucking world, and one of these days I might just prove it to you. In the meantime ... why the FUCK are you still in here bothering me?"

Justin wonders for a moment if JC might just be able to do that -- if he only offered when he WASN'T drunk off his ass -- but not NOW of all fucking times. Not like this. "'Cause you haven't shut up yet?" offers Justin, walking towards the door but still looking at him. "Maybe I just wanted to make sure you were fucking okay, all right? I'll go."

"I'm fine," JC says sullenly, letting his arm collapse under him and staring up at the ceiling. Not that he thought Justin might actually take him up on the offer *tonight*, but most guys he offers to fuck were a little more receptive. Now he just wants Justin to leave so he can find the gin he has stashed ... somewhere ... in the room, have a shot or two, and then forget the whole crappy evening. "You don't have to pretend to worry about me. Enjoy the couch, baby boy."

"I don't pretend anything," says Justin, raising his voice a bit more than he means to. "Fuck all you guys. You don't even KNOW how screwed up you are. I'll fucking talk to you tomorrow, okay? Try not to kill yourself before then."

"I think I'm pretty safe in the bedroom," JC says a little softer, pulling a pillow on top of his face, wondering why Justin keeps lumping him in with Lance and Joey and Chris with his blanket criticism. He knows exactly how screwed up he is; at least he doesn't try to impose it upon anyone else like the three of them do with their pseudo-relationships. Maybe he was being nastier than he needed to be, and Justin was picking up on it. "Uh ... good night, I guess."

"Good night," says Justin, watching him for another moment before turning out the light and leaving the room. A part of him -- like it did a lot of the time -- wanted to take JC up on that offer. To BE with him and see what that was like, with JC. But the rest of him knew that was a bad, bad idea. For both of them. JC is too fucked up to maintain any kind of relationship, and Justin isn't sure yet that he wants to. Especially after last night, getting so uncomfortable in bed with Joey and Lance.

He settles himself on to the couch and covers himself with the blanket, shivering slightly, trying to get some decent sleep before something woke him again.

------

JC finally opens his eyes after standing under the running water of the shower for ten minutes, then wishes he hadn't. Maybe the gin hadn't been such a hot idea after all. But he's up, now, and it isn't morning any longer ... which means he can fix a sandwich and grab a beer without anyone really saying anything, and be feeling better in relatively no time.

He brushes his teeth, too, although spitting in the sink triggers his gag reflex and he has to hold on to the counter until his head stops swimming. Fumbling in his toiletry kit, he finds his pill case, swallows three advils dry, and tugs on his jeans before leaving the steamy bathroom.

Justin folds up the quilt and just sticks it back in the hall closet -- it's not like he got it DIRTY or anything, right? -- and notes idly that Lance and Joey's door is open, and that neither of them is in there. He'd thought that the two of them would wake him up the moment they went into the living room, but apparently they'd been more considerate than that, for once.

He tries stretching out his back and neck again but they're still stiff and sore despite his best efforts. And they ARE good efforts. You can't spend half your life performing and dancing and not know a few damn good exercises to get the kinks out. Giving up, he decides to pay more attention to his grumbling stomach and wanders into the kitchen to make himself something to eat.

JC is already there, barefoot and shirtless, with his head stuck in the fridge and a surly look on his face. "Hey, sleeping beauty," he says, grabbing a beer and a tomato and some bacon. "We don't have any fucking lettuce."

"Suffer," says Justin indifferently, reaching past him for the orange juice. "I didn't know the Living Dead needed to eat, anyway." He grabs himself a glass out of the cupboard and sits down at the table to pour himself some juice. He doesn't comment on the beer, but he gives JC a Look. "Did you sleep well?" he asks, sugary-sweet.

"Nice," says JC under his breath, catching his balance and staring at Justin after trying to get out of his way. He's gonna have to wait for the advil, or the beer, to kick in before he gets in another verbal sparring match with him. "Probably," he says louder in response to the question, grabbing the bread out of the pantry and fumbling with the twist-tie. "You?"

"Like a log," says Justin, sipping at the juice and thinking about what he feels like making for himself. "A log that's been tumbled over a waterful, mind you, but a log all the same. You wanna make me one of those sandwiches?" He eyes the bacon and tomato hungrily. "I'll pass on the beer, though, thanks."

JC bites his lip, still trying not to get in a fight. "I was just gonna offer, actually. You want your bread toasted, or no?" He takes a swig from his beer and lights the gas on the burner. "Think Joey or Lance wants one?" Hey, he can be considerate sometimes. Plus, maybe it'll get Lance off his case. Not to mention, remind Joey that he's around.

"They're not here," says Justin, looking at him curiously. "Um, thanks, though. That looks good." He quashes the impulse to ask JC if he's a pod person and instead sips at his orange juice. There's a thumbprint in the middle of the left lens of his glasses that's making everything look a little bit off, but he can't even summon up the energy to clean it. His neck HURTS dammit, and he's not really used to his body betraying him.

"Oh, okay," JC nods, shoulders slumping a little, before sticking the bread in the toaster and tossing several pieces of bacon in the frying pan. "BLT minus the L, coming up. Uh ... can you get the mayonnaise out of the fridge?" He has to jump out of the way of the spattering grease when he says this and hits his beer bottle with his elbow, just barely catching it before it spills everywhere. "Shit," he mutters.

"Save the beer," mutters Justin, almost inaudibly. He finishes his orange juice and stands up; his shoulder spasms as he does and he ends up leaning against the chair, rubbing it for a moment before he even makes it to the fridge to get the mayonnaise out for JC. He's glad he doesn't have to cook; JC's always been better at it, though it's been a while since he's even made the effort for anyone but himself.

"Okay, what the fuck is up your ass?" JC snaps, turning around finally and frowning to himself when he sees Justin massaging his shoulder. "It's lunch. I can have a beer. And I'm even trying to be nice." JC isn't sure if he said or did something the night before to piss off Justin, but judging by his attitude, he must've.

"Well, not you, though you certainly tried," says Justin as he sits back down in the chair, wincing as his muscles complain. He must have slept REALLY strangely last night for his body to be doing this; next time, he'll just take the floor. "Look, it may be lunchtime, but you also just woke up. That's all I'm saying. And weren't the half-dozen shots you had at 4:30 this morning ENOUGH for you?" He shakes his head. "Never mind. Forget I even said anything. Enjoy your damn beer."

JC stares at Justin for a minute before roughly tearing several paper towels off the roll and pressing the bacon between them to drain off the grease. He *definitely* doesn't remember propositioning him last night, even though he suspects Justin is exaggerating. "Right. Like you'd know what to DO with yourself if I came on to you." He speads some mayo on the toast, adds the tomato slices, and throws the plate down in front of Justin. "Enjoy your damn *sandwich.*"

"Thank you," says Justin, staring at it for a minute. "I appreciate it." He takes a bite of the sandwich before going on. "I knew exactly what to do," he says crisply as he swallows. "I left. Because A - you were fucking drunk, and B - I don't have sex with other people. That didn't suddenly CHANGE, you know." He takes another bite of the sandwich. "This is really good."

JC just grunts as he sits down across from Justin, taking another swallow from his beer and leaving his own sandwich untouched. More pieces of their conversation last night are coming back to him, and he peers at Justin curiously. "Well, supposedly you don't sleep with other people either, so how was I supposed to know? And since you brought it up," he frowns at his empty bottle, "how long do you plan on keeping that shit up, this psuedo-virgin act? Look, I'll go *find* you a girl, if you're so fucking worried about being rejected."

"God, you really don't get it, do you?" says Justin, shaking his head disbelievingly as he finishes the sandwich off quickly. "I have PLENTY of opportunity. I really don't want to sleep with people. It's too fucking complicated, and I have ENOUGH complications in my life, thanks." He frowns as he remembers sleeping with Joey and Lance, remembers briefly enjoying the sensation of someone's arms around him before it became awkward.

It's been a long time since he's really LIKED being touched--being Justin Timberlake he HAD no personal space when he went out. People thought they could touch him whenever they wanted, and he'd learned to hate those touches. It should have been different, with the guys, but some days it just wasn't ... and he wondered how THEY did it so much.

"But that's just IT," JC chuckles a little as he leans back in his chair to grab another beer from the fridge. "You have no idea whether it's complicated or not -- YOU'VE NEVER DONE IT. So I don't really buy that excuse -- there's gotta be more to it." He arches an eyebrow as he twists off the cap. "Afraid you won't 'perform' up to expectations?"

"I'm not talking about the sex," says Justin, rolling his eyes. "The actual act? I'm pretty damn sure I can perform up to standard on THAT. It's everything ELSE." He gives JC a significant look, but the other man seems to still not be getting it. "Sex never comes freely," he says finally. "There's always some sort of attachment, even when it's not a relationship. And then there are the risks. And I have my doubts that anyone I could be with could be as good at pleasing me as I am." He blushes a bit, but goes on. "So there you have it. Do you get it now?"

JC drains half his beer before staring at Justin incredulously. "I ... I just don't even know where to start. Your concern about safety is noted, but come on: we're the *only* people who can get sex freely. It's not only tolerated; it's *expected*. And maybe it isn't as *emotionally* fulfilling as it would be in a 'relationship'," -- he snorts a little as if to show how he feels about that -- "but then, neither is jerking off." Picking a little at the crust of his sandwich, he continues, his gaze piercing. "As for no one else being able to 'please' you the way you do ... there are so many things wrong with that statement, it'd take me a year to explain them all. Or ..." he grins, "one night to show you."

Justin sighs, watches JC drink more of his beer, wishes maybe they were having this conversation completely sober. "Do you people just not get that I LIKE things the way they are? Someday yeah, sure, there'll be a point in my life where I'll think okay, I'm ready to share this with someone now. But that time is SO not now. I don't want to fuck around, I'm not doing this because I need some EMOTIONAL fulfillment. Things are the way they are because I like my own company, I like what I do for myself -- and yes, I DO find masturbation satisfying -- and I don't need someone else messing that up." He looks at the leftover bacon on the counter. "Um ... any chance of another sandwich?"

Shoving his own uneaten sandwich in front of Justin, JC leans back in his chair again. "You are so self-absorbed. And could you be any more confused?" he asks honestly. "I have to keep reminding myself that you don't know any better. Justin, listen: there's a whole *world* of sensation out there that you're never gonna get with your hand ..." his lips curl into a smirk, "or any of your toys, for that matter. I don't care HOW much practice you have with them. There's a level of release that you'll *never* get as long as there's a part of your mind that has to concentrate on getting yourself off instead of letting someone else do it for you. That doesn't 'mess it up.' ... Are you really so conceited as to think there isn't someone out there that could teach you a thing or two?"

"FUCK, does EVERYone know what i do in bed?" says Justin, letting his forehead fall against the table. THAT wasn't something he'd been hoping to hear this morning. A moment later he lifts his head, the pink fading from his cheeks, and begins picking at the sandwich as he talks. "OKay, I KNOW there are people who know more than I do," he says. "But maybe I don't WANT that right now. Maybe all the baggage that comes with it isn't worth it, just yet. And okay, maybe sex with SOME people might be better. But I"m betting that sex with MOST people is gonna be worse. And can you really argue with THAT? I'm not some fucking naive kid afraid of shooting for the real deal here. I LIKE what I HAVE."

"You're not terribly subtle, OR quiet, J.," JC pats his shoulder a little condescendingly at the younger man's embarassment. "Why do you think I'm not disputing your claim that you enjoy yourself?" He finishes off that beer and debates getting another, but his headache's gone and he's pleasantly flushed and so decides to grab a bottle of water instead. "You obviously do like what you have, but I'd be willing to bet you'd *love* what you don't. This 'baggage' hang-up of yours has just got to go. You can GET no-strings-attached sex. And if you'd rather not, your first time -- which is totally understandable, I'm not *that* callous -- you should just ask one of us. I know Chris or Joey'd do it, and I already offered, and none of us would expect shit from you in the morning." He shrugs as he says this, calmly putting all the food back in the fridge.

"Maybe not," says Justin, "but I DO have to face you the next day. It changes things. Maybe not for you, but it would for me." He sighs. JC is sounding so reasonable right now, and it would be easy to just say yes and be done with it, but he KNOWS what will happen if he does. "Don't think I haven't thought about it, all right? Don't think I just woke up one day and decided that I never wanted to have sex with anyone. I did a LOT of thinking about it, I'll have you know. You guys talk about sex all the time -- you think I don't KNOW how much you enjoy it or something? And enjoy LISTENING to it apparently ... what's WITH you people?"

JC laughs. "What? It's hot, you're hot, you sound good when you do it, it's fun to picture. You're not gonna get any of us to apologize for *that*." He throws his empty bottles in the recycling and sits back down at the table, scooting his chair a little closer to Justin's as he does. "So you've thought about it? I'm glad to hear that. I figured you had to think of *something* besides yourself while you were getting off." he winks. "It was Chris, wasn't it? He'd be good, for your first. Seriously. And he wouldn't make it awkward for you afterwards, if that's what you're worried about."

Justin frowns. "I'm not sleeping with Chris. EW. I'm not sleeping -- having SEX -- with any of you. You're all so fucking screwed up. I mean, no offense or anything, but you ARE." He toys with the last half of the sandwich in front of him. "You don't think I have an active fantasy life or something? You think I think about mySELF when I'm doing stuff? You just don't get it at all, JC ... "

"Okay, maybe I don't," JC leans forward, sipping at his water, wiping it away with the back of his hand when it dribbles down his chin a little. "I just *said* I figured you thought about other stuff ... why don't you tell me about it. Enlighten me. I haven't jerked off in ... months; I could use a refresher."

"Months," repeats Justin. "You are SO shitting me on that one. But whatever." He frowns at little, picks at the sandwich some more. "Are you asking me to tell you about my fantasies, JC?" he asks. "Are you asking me to tell you what I do when I masturbate??"

"I guess so," JC smiles easily. "Your insistence that it's all you need has got me curious. And it HAS been months. Real sex is too readily available for me to bother." It *is* the truth, even though it's probably an incomplete explanation -- he's been too lazy, or tired, the rest of the time.

"Then MAYBE," says Justin, pushing the rest of the sandwich away. "You don't know what YOU'RE missing. Ever think about that? And maybe you should stop thinking about Joey as 'readily available'." He knows that JC won't agree, but it had to be said anyway. "I don't know what to fucking tell you. I'm not the guy who talks about sex, remember?" He's almost willing to try, though, seeing the relatively earnest look on JC's face. "I imagine being fucked," he says with a shrug. "How do I know you aren't just asking me this for ammunition the next time you feel like being nasty, anyway?"

A brief flash of anger crosses JC's features at the mention of Joey before he smiles again, if not as clearly as before. "I guess you don't; but, making fun of that kind of stuff is just ... tacky. You can't help what pops into your head when you're about to come. I've thought about you, before," he says offhandedly. "And being fucked? Really? By a guy, I assume? I wasn't sure you ... swung that way, despite your obvious affection for taking *something* up the ass."

Justin snorts. "I haven't though about girls in a very long time, JC. You didn't know that? It's not like I've kept it a SECRET or anything. Or maybe you guys think that just because I'm not having sex with other people means I don't have any kind of sexuality that you can relate to." He pulls the sandwich back, starts picking at it again. "You've thought about me? THEN?" He isn't about to say he thinks about JC just about EVERY time. Not yet. Not now.

"Then, what?" JC asks, confused. "You mean when I'm having sex? Sure," he confirms. "I'm rarely thinking about the person I'm actually with," he explains -- which is ALSO true, except for the times when Joey can tell he's drifting and he makes sure that JC doesn't forget who's fucking him. "But I was asking what *you* do. You're being stingy with the details."

"Joey and Lance watched last night," says Justin suddenly. Unexpectedly. He looks up to see JC's reaction. "They watched me do myself, fingers in my ass and all. He squirms a bit in the chair. "I'm feeling really weird about that, now. Maybe that's why I'm not exactly spouting out the details here just yet. But ... it's cool that you think about me. Of course, I"d have to expect now that if you ever had sex with ME, you'd be thinking about somebody ELSE."

"You let them *watch*???" JC crows, grinning madly. "Shit, where the hell was I? So, what...they watched you, then they did it in front of you, or something, and that's how you all ended up in bed together? Whoa." He lets his mind wander with that one for a while. "Huh. Okay, that's juicy, but not what you usually do, though, right? I wanna know how you keep it interesting and good for yourself on a daily basis."

Justin wraps his arms around himself. "I think they did it," he says. "But I didn't watch. I borrowed their room when they weren't using it ... only I guess they WERE using it, in a different way ... So, yeah, that's how I ended up in there, okay? You COULD be a not-prick and TRY and make me feel better about the whole thing." He bites his lip and pauses for a moment, then unwraps his arms and pushes his glasses up his nose. "It wasn't anything I don't usually do, except no one is usually WATCHING. That I know of. And none of my, uh, stuff was in there with me. You, uh, know what I'm talking about ... "

"Right, right ... your 'stuff' ... it's that much better than with your hand?" JC lets his fingers touch Justin's forearm briefly as he's talking, not even really aware he's doing it. "And I'm not being a prick. I'm just trying to talk to you about this; I don't understand why you're embarassed about it. Shit, I think it's hot; *obviously* Lance and Joey did too, so what's the problem? You think they'll expect to be able to do it again, or something?"

"It's personal," says Justin. "That's all. I like to think that when I'm jerking off and thrusting things up my ass that I'm ALONE, no matter HOW hot it is. And it IS hot. I know that. I'm the one doing it, aren't I? I wouldn't do it if I weren't that good." Justin twists his lips a bit. "You really want to know about this? You're not just shitting me here?" JC's fingers left a burning trail on Justin's arm; before that, he'd hardly been aware that JC was quite so close.

"YES, I'm serious," JC says, just short of exasperatedly. "You sit there and bitch and moan at me about how no one gets it; well, I'm *trying* to get it. To get *you*, I guess." He pauses, then leans back again and scratches absently at his bare chest. "I don't think I'd enjoy having to be by myself that much," he says before he can stop himself, then looks away, thinking it might be time for another beer.

"See, that's the thing," says Justin. "I don't HAVE to be by myself. I choose to be. I guess we're just really different people. I mean ... I wonder sometimes how you guys can stand NOT to be alone, when you can. It's not like it happens NEARLY often enough, or anything." He needs something to do with his hands and pours himself another glass of orange juice. "So okay," he says after a moment. "I'll try this. But I'm only doing this for YOU okay? So give me some direction here, JC. What do you want to know." Justin figures he can at least use this as leverage. He spills his guts to JC, he gets to ask a few things in return. Like why he drinks so damn much. Like WHY he can't be alone. Like what it's like to actually have sex with someone.

"Ooh, okay," JC claps his hands together, beer forgotten. "Um. I don't know what to ask!" he laughs. "I'll try to start easy. Uh ... so you said you don't think about yourself when you're doing it, you have fantasies and all? How much of that is based on actual experience? I mean, I get that you're a virgin, or whatever, but have you ever had anyone get you off? Do you remember it when you're, like, touching yourself? Or is it all made up, and you're in, like, never-been-kissed territory? I'm just wondering; trying to see how disillusioned you *really* are when it comes to how much better sex is, with two."

"I could have done without that last comment," mutters Justin, shaking his head. "I've never done anything sexual with another person. Just so you know. I kissed a couple girls when I was a kid, and kissed people jokingly or something, but I've never kissed someone in a sexual way. Or been kissed. Ever. Okay? So whatever I think about, it's all fantasy." He doesn't look up at JC, knows the other man is probably laughing at him. HE'S pretty comfortable with the way he's approached sex, but he knows the other guys are pretty amused by it. "I mean, it's not like the actual act is a mystery to me. I look at porn. I listen to you guys talk. And I just ... picture it, I guess."

JC doesn't say anything for a moment, and when he does, it's a breathy "wow." He waits for Justin to look at him, then he continues. "Look ... look, Justin, I ... I had no idea. I mean, look at you!" He waves in his general direction. "How is it possible that you've gone this far in life without someone holding you down and making you let them suck your dick?" He blushes a little, wondering if that came out wrong. "Anyway. Damn. Have you ever even, like, been turned *on* by someone else? God, you must have a healthy imagination."

"Of COURSE I've been turned on by people," says Justin, rolling his eyes. "I'm human. Male. Twenty years old. I just ... choose not to do anything about it. Right now." The image of someone holding him down and sucking his dick is cycling in his brain as he talks, though, making his cheeks flush and his pulse race a little. "And yes, I DO have a very healthy imagination, thank you very much. But I mean, it's not like I don't know what it's like to have my ass or my mouth filled, or what it's like to feel a hand on my dick ... "

"Yeah, *your* hand on your dick," JC rolls his eyes in return. "That's just not ... it's NOT the same. Like, I know you think you have it made; you can control how hard or how soft you're gonna make it, how rough or how slow. But you'll never be truly *teased* that way, you'll always know what's about to happen ... you'll never know what it's like to be practically crying for someone else to just let you *come*. And you'll never know what it's like to think you want it one way, and have the other guy just completely disregard it -- only to discover that he knows what he's doing and you should just lay there, shut up, and take it, 'cause it'll be better than anything you could imagine." JC narrows his eyes a little, but still seems relaxed. "You want to argue? You think what you fantasize about is better than that?"

"Maybe I don't," admits Justin. "Maybe I DON'T know what that's like. I also don't know what it's like to have someone drool while they're kissing, wiggle their tongue around like a sick eel. I've never had anyone fuck up and use teeth, fuck me too hard and hurt something, grope me clumsily, pinch, poke or tug when I didn't want it. Maybe I DO always know what's about to happen. I also know that I'm going to get it whenever I want, and exactly the WAY I want it." He sighs and runs a hand over his face. "Look, I'm not saying you're wrong. The first time, or the fiftieth time, I have sex could be a mind-blowing, life-changing event ... but maybe I'm not ready to deal with all the consequences of that now. Fuck ... you guys ... it's always all about how your way is better and how I'll 'catch up' one day. Fuck that! Seriously. I'll have sex when I want to, and with who I want to, and if that who is ME, then so be it. You don't have to put that down."

"Fine!" JC crosses his arms across his chest and leans his chair back on two legs. "Fine. So fucking DEFENSIVE, all of a sudden? What happened to our nice, wholesome conversation about what you think about when you stick your fingers up your ass?" It seems like Justin is completely willing and eager to talk about this one second, then just closes up and doesn't want anything he does to be scrutinized or even acknowledged the next. It's enough to practically force JC to sit on his hands to keep from reaching for a drink.

"I'm just ... " Justin grunts, frustrated. "I'm just a little tired of you guys all telling me what YOU do is so much better than what *I* do. I mean ... how do you know? I could have the best fucking sex life on the planet ... you know? I'm not saying that I do ... and I know there's a lot of stuff that I just CAN'T do for myself ... but what i DO do? It's really good, JC. Really good. Do you still want to know what i think about?" When JC doesn't answer right away he just surges on. "Guys. Mostly guys fucking me. Sometimes I'm tied up and they're using things other than their dicks. Sometimes it's really soft and sometimes it's totally hard core. Sometimes I get off imagining my dick being sucked. Sometimes i get off thinking about you being the one to do it. And SOMEtimes I don't imagine anything at all, because what I'm doing to myself does more for me than any fantasy could." He pauses and looks at JC then, almost nervous about what he might think of that.

JC's lips curve into a slow grin. "Is that so? You must've really perfected your technique, there ... other people might benefit from your knowledge if you'd ever care to try it on someone else." He yawns and stretches. "Look, I'll lay off, okay? You're way too sensitive about this for it to be any fun, anyway. I just want you to keep asking yourself why you're still bothering to fantasize about guys fucking you -- about *me* fucking you -- when you could have the real thing. And then let me know when you run out of excuses."

"Fantasies have no strings attached," says Justin. "It's as simple as that, JC. Fantasies have no expectations of me, they change whenever I want them to and they come and go as *I* please. Find me someone who can do that. Can YOU? I don't think so JC. You don't WANT to change for yourself, let alone anyone else. They're not excuses, they're REASONS, and they're valid. Even if you don't agree with them." He looks at JC curiously. "Why are you all on about having sex with me today anyway? I mean, so what if I fantasize. You're probably nothing LIKE that in bed ... "

"Mmmm," JC stares at Justin steadily. "Like what, in bed?" He doesn't think he *is* 'all on about' having sex with Justin, today; the kid just brought it up, and JC didn't get laid last night, so now he's thinking about it. Whatever. Especially knowing just how *much* of a virgin he is. He sighs and rubs his eyes. "Nice that you conveniently fail to mention that with your fantasies, *you* don't have to change either."

"I LIKE that in my fantasies I don't have to change," says Justin. "I'm fine with that. I like me the way I am." He pushes his glasses up and rubs the bridge of his nose, wondering why everyone ELSE thinks there's something wrong with him. "In my fantasies you're confident but not ... cocky. You take control and do everything right. And you fuck like a machine and never come until I do. Which is really one of the convenient things about fantasy, don't you think ... ?" He smiles a little, a hopes the mood of the conversation isn't ENTIRELY ruined. It's been interesting, if nothing else.

JC just shrugs, not giving anything away. "Sure. Because, you know -- CONVENIENCE -- that's the important thing to look for in sex, right? It's not fun if you have to work for it." He's in sarcastic bitch mode now, and not entirely sure what triggered it.

"Fuck," says Justin bitterly. "I KNEW I shouldn't have told you any of this stuff. Why don't I trust my fucking instincts once in a while?" He pushes the chair back from the table and stands up abruptly. His muscles protest, and he almost falls forward against the table but manages to keep himself upright. His struggle is reflected on his face, though. "For a little while there, I almost forgot you were YOU. Silly me."

"Heaven forbid!" JC gasps, bringing his hands to his face in mock horror. "Look, I was being nice, until you started getting all ... know-it-all, I-know-what's-good-for-me-andyou-can't-tell-me-different, on me. And what the hell is WRONG with you?" he adds, frowning even more at the grimace that crossed Justin's face when he stood up.

"I slept on the fucking couch, THAT'S what's wrong with me," says Justin, wincing a bit as he stands up straight. "And I'm not saying you're wrong or even that I'm right, only that you guys have NEVER had any respect for the decision I made and I get TIRED of that. I mean, wouldn't you?" "Yeah, it really sucks when you have someone get all paternalistic on you and try to tell you what you should and shouldn't be doing, huh?" JC bites back, the double-meaning there very clear as he stands up as well, intent on fixing himself a real drink. The obvious discomfort in Justin's stance makes him pause, however, and he can't help but feel a little responsible. "Look," he exhales, slowly. "I'm sorry about the sofa ... I know you're not big on the whole 'touching' thing, but do you want me to rub your neck for you?"

Justin nods slightly, not wanting to strain his neck any more then he already had. "Okay," he says. "I can stand a LITTLE touchy-feely you know. When it's you ... guys." He sits back down on the chair.

JC chuckles a little and moves to stand behind Justin, careful not to let any of his torso touch his back. He gently nudges Justin's head down with his hand and rubs his hands together briefly, the friction warming them naturally, before placing his fingers on the other man's neck. "Um ... how's that?"

"Fine," says Justin briefly, tilting his head downward to allow JC access. "Look, I just want you guys to acknowledge -- once in a while -- that I'm *allowed* to choose not to have sex. Like it's not some crime. Why can't you do that?"

"Justin," JC sighs, digging his thumbs into the knots high between Justin's shoulderblades, "I just got through telling you I'd lay off. I can't make the other guys do anything, though, you know that. Why do you care so much whether we approve or not? You're gonna do what you want, either way."

"Yeah, I am, but it's not exactly FUN to have you guys saying some of that shit to my face ... let alone the stuff you must say behind my back. I mean, so what if I'm a virgin? I'm not exactly virginal and PURE, if you know what I mean." He hisses. "Damn. Yeah. Right there."

JC lets his fingers knead a little deeper in the muscle he just covered, part of him idly wanting to elicit another comment out of Justin in the husky voice he just used. "Get over it," he says finally, not unkindly. "We don't think about it as much as you seem to think we do."

"Well, you all sure as hell have been TALKING about it enough lately," he mutters. "What I do, that's MY business. You're all a bunch of voyeurs, that's what you are."

Chuckling, JC moves his hands to Justin's broad shoulders. "Okay, I won't dispute *that*. But Joey and Lance have the leg up on me and Chris, now." Justin groans. "Let's just NOT bring Chris into this, okay? It's hard enough to take as it is. Um ... no pun intended?"

"You really shouldn't be so embarassed," JC tries to reassure Justin, tugging on one of the curls at his nape before cupping the back of his neck in one hand and squeezing gently. "It's nothing that any of the rest of us haven't done in one form or another, so. Just 'cause it's not our *preferred* method of getting off doesn't mean we can't appreciate its virtues."

Justin takes his glasses off and sets them on the table, then squeezes the bridge of his nose between his thumb and his forefinger. "I know," he says, closing his eyes. "You guys just think you've moved onto something better. I think I HAVE the something better, that's all. I just happen to be outnumbered." He grins a little. "Not like it's gonna STOP me or anything. Though I might try to be a little quieter."

"Put your hand down," JC says softly, massaging the tops of Justin's shoulders again and letting his hands slide down over his upper arms. "Well, think about it this way: we've done both. You haven't. And as much as I *promise* I understand your reasoning a little better after this conversation of ours, I still maintain we have a little better perspective on the subject."

Justin puts his hand down and snickers a bit. "Honestly? I REALLY doubt you guys have done all the things that I have. I mean ... we're not just talking a quick jerk in the bathroom, you know? I do know what I'm doing. I'm really not talking about the ACT of sex, anyway." He sighs. "Like I said, it's just the complications that come with it. I'm not staying a virgin because I want to be PURE or something."

"Okay," JC says simply. After a minute, he starts talking again. "Have you calmed down enough to finish telling me about what it is you do, then? Or are you gonna bite my head off, again? In which case, all I have to say is: no more back rubs for you, EVER."

"I wasn't biting off your head, JC," says Justin, his eyes still closed, sighing quietly. "This IS a little embarassing, no matter what you say. I mean ... okay ... the stuff I do, it's ALONE, right? So automatically, I'm a little more senstive about other people knowing right? I man, fuck, I'm trying here, right? If you wanna know ... just be patient, all right? Yes ... damn ... don't stop, okay?"

"Right," JC repeats, then giggles, leaning forward to talk just behind Justin's ear. "You're a weak man, Timberlake. But you don't have to tell me anything you don't want me to know. This is me, being patient." He stands back up, then, and resumes the massage, although his hands are starting to get a little tired.

Justin pauses, then laughs a little. "I don't even know what to tell you. I WILL, though. If you really want to know. Just don't EVER stop rubbing my back. Unless it's to rub my legs. Fuck...I AM weak."

"I wasn't just talking about waiting to hear what you had to say," JC clarifies slowly, letting one finger trail down Justin's spine before stepping back and continuing in a lighter tone. "But that's it for right now. And ... I think rubbing your legs might be a little too intimate for us, at this point."

Justin grins. "*I* can restrain myself," he says. "Can't you?"

JC swats him on the back of the head as he walks around to sit in his chair again. "You're just trying to bait me into it, and it won't work. Nice try, though."

Justin sighs and lifts his head again reluctantly, blinking his eyes open. He doesn't bother putting his glasses back on, just squints at JC a little. "Maybe," he admits. "They're sore, too. I'm never doing that for you again. Just so you know."

"Doing what, exactly?" JC asks, furrowing his brow.

"Sleeping on the couch," clarifies Justin. "NO one's worth that. Not even you."

"I don't exactly recall asking you to do that," JC frowns, "for me or for anyone else."

"I never said you asked," mutters Justin. "I said I did it for you."

"Okaaaay," JC replies, leaning back in his chair again. "Am I missing something, here?"

Justin frowns. "What could you possibly be missing?"

"How you sleeping on the couch has anything at all to do with me," JC replies, not really meeting Justin's eyes.

"So you could have your bed," says Justin quietly. "I slept on the couch last night after I put you to bed. Don't you remember?"

JC stares at Justin, trying not to laugh since he seems to be taking it so seriously. "So I could have MY bed," he repeats slowly. "Um. Thanks ... I guess."

Justin rolls his eyes and reaches for his glasses. "Whatever. I think I must have somewhere else to be right now ... "

"Okay," JC replies, watching him closely, trying to figure out where this reaction is coming from. "Uh ... I'm glad we got a chance to talk, man."

"Yeah, I'm sure," says Justin. "Hope you had a good fucking laugh."

JC flinches. "Okay, what the hell just happened, here? I was being fucking serious."

"You don't REMEMBER," hisses Justin. "But what else is new. You ever think maybe you might HURT someone doing that?"

"I remember the *important* shit," JC retorts sullenly. "So you helped get me to bed, big fucking deal. Nothing *happened*, right? I remember that much."

"Happened?" repeats Justin. "Happened, meaning WHAT?"

"Happened, meaning ... whatever!" JC bites out, exasperated. "Just what am I supposed to be remembering, Justin?"

"Nothing," says Justin. "Just nothing. Appreciating me dragging your sorry ass to bed and sleeping on the couch depite your MANY, varied offers to use the bed -- with or without you in it -- is apparently beyond you. Whatever."

"Look, if I offered you the bed, what the fuck is the big deal? You could've left me on the couch; wouldn't have been the first time." JC honestly doesn't know what Justin expects from him. "Look; thanks, okay? I mean that. If I was difficult, or ... whatever, and you had to put up with it, I appreciate it. God, just ... just calm down."

"I'm not upset," says Justin. "Just ... disappointed. Look, nevermind. I'm sorry I said anything. I'm sorry I'm sore this morning. I'm sorry we ran into each other last night. Okay?"

"Okay," JC says meekly, not really able to say much more. "I'm sorry too, I guess."

"For what?"

"For ... I don't know," JC shakes his head in frustration. "Look, for someone who doesn't want anything to do with a relationship, you sure have this guilt trip shit down pat, you know that?"

Justin suddenly realizes that's EXACTLY what he's doing and freezes. Fuck it all, anyway. "I guess you can have complications WITHOUT sex," is all he says, looking away and trying to get a fucking GRIP on himself. This is JC and JC is FUCKED UP and the more he lets himself get sucked into that the worse of he's gonna be. And he knows it. And he's ALWAYS known it.

"I guess," JC echoes, looking at Justin strangely before standing up, wondering what the hell is going on in his head, and what it was that he didn't remember that obviously meant so much to him. "I ... I do appreciate your help, Justin," he says. "You're a good kid."

"Kid?" repeats Justin, then snorts and shakes his head. "Yeah, right. Well, sure, I guess. Any time."

Okay, so THAT wasn't the right thing to say, either. "Yeah," he says weakly, backing away, really really REALLY needing a drink now. "I'll ... be right back."

Justin frowns. "WHere are you running off to, JC?" he asks quietly.

"Nowhere," JC replies, still backing up. "I said I'd be right back. I just gotta go ... do something, real quick ..."

"You're ... " Justin gets it, sighs, and looks away. "Okay," he says quietly, giving in. Not that he even really fought it in the first place.

Feeling like he'd been released, JC turns on his heel and practically runs to the bar. *Vodka.* Vodka's good. A nice, middle-of-the-day liquor. He digs around in the cabinet for several seconds, looking for a shot glass, before muttering "fuck it" and taking two large swallows from the liter itself. He closes his eyes and braces himself against the counter, relishing the burn as the alcohol makes its way down his throat and settles in his belly.

Justin watches him, his heart sinking. Sometimes, when things are good and they're getting along, it's easy to forget what JC's really like. And, even watching him guzzle the vodka like it IS water, he knows he wants him anyway. He'd never really admit it, never do anything about it while JC is still fucked up, but the feeling stays, heavy in his gut and his heart. "That good?" he asks blandly as he starts toward the hallway, towards his bedroom that Chris has thankfully vacated.

JC whips around, having not been aware that Justin had followed him, and catches the morose look on the other man's face before he started walking away. *Fuck.* He hadn't meant for Justin to see him -- not because he felt like he had to hide or apologize for having a drink when he wanted one, but because he never could resist saying something snotty about it, and JC was feeling guilty enough to let him. So he doesn't say anything, which he suspects is the reaction Justin expected regardless, and takes another gulp -- which he probably expected too.

Justin nods. "Okay then," he says with a sigh. "I guess this conversation is over. Catch you later?" It could have just been a parting remark, but he leans against the doorframe and actually waits for a response before going.

JC looks down at the bottle he has gripped tightly in his fist before sneaking a glance up at Justin from under his eyelashes. He can't figure out why he's hesitating, or what he's supposed to say. "I'll be here," he mumbles finally, leaning heavily on one of the barstools. "Maybe ... if you wanted, we could get some dinner, or something?" He has *no* idea where that came from, but he really *did* enjoy having Justin open up a little to him this afternoon, and wouldn't mind spending some more time with him. At the very least, he wouldn't have to be alone, and all up in his head.

Justin smiles. "That would be good," he says. "I'll, uh ... " He gestures toward the hallway. "I got things to do," he says vaguely. "I'll catch you later, JC." He gives him one last look, then turns and leaves.

"Yeah," JC says, raising his hand in a weak wave, not quite returning the smile. He just hopes he can either figure out the source of Justin's mood swings, or at least discover how to ignore them, before dinner. Walking around the edge of the bar, he grabs some ice and a tumbler -- there's no real excuse for drinking out of the bottle -- and pours a drink. One drink. And hopes he can find something else to preoccupy himself with until Lance and Joey get back.

----

Justin stares at the ceiling for a long time, finding the tiny cracks and following them to where they met the wall over the large window. He didn't want to stay out there with JC right now, watch him drink himself into oblivion. It was funny, because he was USED to it, but it bothered him today. Maybe because he'd let himself think, for a moment, that his time to be with someone was coming quicker than he thought. And then was reminded just WHY he decided it was better to just do himself, for the time being.

And speaking of which, he was fucking horny. He tried to will it away, but it was no good. Even drunk JC was still *JC*, and his body knew it.

JC doesn't sit down on the barstool again, not wanting to get too comfortable. More than once he's made that mistake, bottle within reach, only to wake up an hour or three later crumpled on the floor with a knot on his head. So he remains standing and sips at his drink, having already put the bottle away, and thinks about Justin. About how embarassed Justin had gotten when JC let it slip that he knew about his toys. About how irrational and just ... weird ... Justin got when JC admitted he didn't remember him putting him to bed last night. And ... about how fucking *hot* Justin looked and sounded when he was describing what JC was like in his fantasies.

Justin turns over on the bed and plants his face into the pillow. He is NOT doing this right now. There's a time and a place and ... last night was just one big god damn exception. That's what it was. But he can't help thinking about what he has in the dresser. In the desk. In the closet. That can take away this burning, needing feeling inside him and make him feel good again. And hell, he's back in his own bedroom, right? He has PRIVACY, finally. He rolls over again and swings himself off the bed.

Dipping a finger in his drink and then slowly sucking the liquid off, still preoccupied, JC leans back against the counter. On top of all of it, having the opportunity to actually *touch* Justin for once, rubbing his back -- feeling his warm skin and tight muscles -- he wonders what it would be like if he *could* get the younger man to change his mind about this whole no-sex-with-anybody-else thing. He figures half the battle's already won, anyway: Justin didn't seem shy about telling him that he gets off on imagining JC fucking him. Now he just has to get Justin to realize that as good as he thinks jerking off feels ... sex with someone else will be that much better.

Justin opens his bedroom door and peers out into the hallway, feeling more self-conscious than he normally would. Normally he just goes at it and ASSUMES that no one is around. Now he knows differently. This time, though, there IS no one else around -- JC is probably still at the bar drinking, since Justin can neither see nor hear him. Closing the door again he considers locking it, but that would just be TOO paranoid.

He just want to feel well and truly fucked right now. Wants to close his eyes and imagine someone (JC) just TAKING him as he thrusts the thick dildo in and out of his ass. Wants to think of someone (JC) pinning him to the bed, hot hands (JC's) on his body. Wants to picture someone (JC) licking his throat, his lips, his chest, eating him alive. Erection raging, he rummages through his sock drawer until he finds what he's looking for and returns to the bed.

Sex with HIM would be that much better, JC clarifies to himself, since that's what he's really talking about. He sucks a piece of ice into his mouth and starts chewing on it. And Justin's never even been kissed! He thinks for a moment about how little or how much it would take to get Justin to come the first time -- if he could bring him to orgasm by just touching him, or if it would actually take being sucked or fucked. And then he starts wondering what it might take to get Justin to fuck *him*. Which might be nice; might mean he wouldn't have to lie around at nights waiting for the notion to strike Joey.

Justin lies down on top of the mussed covers and rests his head on the pillow, closing his eyes. He's more comfortable in here than he was last night, that's for sure, and isn't feeling the need to be quite as abrupt with his fucking. He strips off the last of his clothes, which isn't much - he still hadn't gotten dressed from last night - and begins touching his own body, running his hands over it, pretending they're someone else's. He tweaks his nipples and runs his hands up the insides of his thighs. He's going to want it hard and long, soon, but right now he has the luxury of taking his time, of playing out the whole fantasy in his head. The one where the lunch DIDN'T end with JC guzzling vodka at the bar.

JC swallows the last of his drink, eyes the cabinet with the rest of the bottles, then slams the glass down on the counter and stalks back into the kitchen to get his water instead. He's definitely flushed, now, and doesn't know how much of it is the alcohol and how much is just the vision of Justin that won't get out of his head. If he's honest with himself, he'll admit that a lot of what's making him so hot is the fact that Justin pictures him being that good in bed. It doesn't occur to him to consider that pressure: he's fairly certain that no matter *what* kinds of toys Justin like to play with, they don't feel as good as a warm, hard, *live* dick ... or a soft and wet tongue. JC licks his lips.

Justin begins stroking his cock with one hand, slowly and surely, and lubricates a finger to slide it into his ass. He knows he could take more, easily, but it's usually a lot more fun to start small. A few minutes later, he works his way up to stroking the smaller of the two dildos he's brought to the bed with him in and out of his body. He lets out a loud, satisfied moan as it strokes across his prostate better than his own fingers ever could.

Finishing his water, JC grabs another from the fridge and starts walking back down the hall to his room. His sleep wasn't particularly restful -- it never is, anymore -- and he could use a nap that isn't induced by alcohol. At least not totally. Then he can wake up, see if Joey or, if worse comes to worse, Chris, is in the mood for anything. THEN he'll have dinner with Justin, and test the waters a little; see if it's worth his energy and effort to bother with trying to seduce him.

Justin turns over, thrusting his cock against the bed, trying to get the dildo deeper inside him. The initial awkwardness of thrusting from this position is long gone these days, though it's not doing his sore neck and shoulders much good. He moans again, losing himself to the sensations, imagining someong doing THIS to him, taking him with abandon, thrusting hard and deep inside him.

Twisting and untwisting the cap off his bottle of water, JC slows down as he passes Justin's room, figuring that if the door's open he'll go ahead and see what he wants to do for dinner tonight. It's not ... but JC stops short anyway. He could've sworn that was a *moan* he just heard, and he smirks, wondering just what Justin had meant when he said he had things to 'do.' Stepping a little closer, he holds his breath, wondering if he'll hear it again.

Justin wants MORE, and decides he's going to use the larger dildo after all. After lubricating it all over -- quickly, so he doesn't use the urge -- he slowly slides it inside himself. He lets out a gasp, then a long moan as it fills him as completely as he ever feels filled. He bites his lip and presses his body into the bed and he begins to carefully stroke it in and out of himself.

Yeah, that was *definitely* a moan, JC realizes: long, and low; a *good* moan, a sound of pleasure. Justin is touching himself in there, and suddenly JC can't get his feet to move. He slumps against the wall, exhaling slowly; unashamed to start visualizing what's happening inside the bedroom. He's done it before -- catching Justin in the bathroom when he's not being as quiet as he should, for instance ... but this time is different. This time, Justin's given him an idea of what he does. How he does it. And even better ... what he might be thinking about.

Justin brings his wrist up to his mouth and bites down on it to keep from shouting as he comes, but it's no good and noises still escape him. His hand stills as he feels the blast of pleasure in his groin and in his brain and his mouth lets his wrist go as he sucks in a huge breath and moans again, more softly this time. He leaves the object inside him, feeling full and stretched and not wanting to lose that just yet, imagining the feeling of a body pressing against him to accompany it. The moans change into something a little louder, a little more desperate, and JC feels his face get hot and his own pants a little too tight. Then all the sounds stop; he strains a little but doesn't even hear Justin rustling on the bed. Which means he probably has a couple minutes to catch his own breath before he gets caught out there. He couldn't help getting turned on, even as a part of his brain is sulking that Justin didn't say his name. So much for thinking about him while he's fucking himself.

Justin sighs quietly as he finally removes the dildo from his body and drops it onto a towel on the floor to be cleaned, later. He groans as he turns over, his body stiff now, the tingle of orgasm still making his thoughts fuzzy. JC probably wasn't as heavy as he imagined him to be, would probably by light but firm spread across Justin's back. And he probably wouldn't be as relentless in his drive for orgasm, not with the way he'd talked about 'teasing' earlier. But ... fantasy was fantasy and Justin was quite pleased with what he got, even though his body was now screaming at him for the abuse he'd just put it throught. No more sleeping on the couch. EVER.

JC lets a hand drift down to his crotch and adjusts himself before pushing off the wall and standing up. He heard Justin groan and figures he'll be coming out shortly, going to the bathroom to clean up, or whatever, and does NOT need to see JC skulking around outside his door. He sighs and cracks his back, REALLY hoping now that Joey will ditch Lance when he gets back.

Justin pulls the blanket up off the lower half of his body, feeling exhausted and remembering just how little sleep he had last night. Cleaning up can wait. He pulls the top sheet up underneath him to cover the wet spot and closes his eyes. A moment later he could swear he hears a noise from the hallway, but he convinces himself it's his imagination -- he doesn't have the energy to check it out right now. Sated, he begins to drift off.

Bending over a little stiffly, JC grabs his water from where he had left it on the floor and continues back down the hall to his room. He leaves the door open, even though he wants to get some rest; given the choice, he'd much rather have someone get him off than let him sleep. Tugging off his jeans carefully, wincing as they brush past his erection, JC flops down on the bed and bites his lip. Soon enough, however, even he realizes that trying to will away his arousal is going to be next to impossible when he can't get Justin's moans out of his head. Luckily he still has some gin.

---

Justin wakes up in his own room this time, but it's the same ritual as always. Blink at the fuzzy red numbers on the alarm clock, THEN remember to slide his glasses on so he can actually read them. It's late afternoon already. Early evening, really, though his day is so skewed it still feels like morning to him. There's a crusty batch of semen on his stomach and his whole body aches. Not an entirely unfamiliar way to wake up, for him.

JC is sitting in the kitchen, again, hands wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee. His eyes are bloodshot, his clothes are haphazardly draped across his frame, his expression is surly. Forgetting about what he had heard that afternoon -- both in his conversation with Justin, and then ... after -- *had* proven impossible, even with the help of the gin. Too *much* gin, too, since he decided to keep drinking until Joey came back ... except Joey never CAME back. STILL hadn't come back.

Justin grabs some random clean clothes, throws his robe on, and heads for the bathroom for a quick shower. It's long-overdue, he realizes, as he scrubs his skin and his hair. Fifteen minutes later he wanders into the kitchen in a clean pair of boxers and a t-shirt. It's not exactly dinner-clothing, but it's JC so he's allowed to be comfortable.

"Hey," JC says to him, his head stuck in the fridge in a way very reminiscent of earlier this afternoon. He studiously avoids the beer -- shuddering, in fact, at the thought of drinking anything right then -- and eventually decides that there's nothing in there worth cooking for dinner. "Know what you want to eat?"

Justin shrugs and slumps down into a chair. "What, you don't have it all planned out?" He grins. "You're the one who invited me to dinner, C. Some date YOU are."

JC rolls his eyes. "Right. Well, there isn't shit in here to make, so ... takeout, or takeout."

"Hey, don't get all uptight," says Justin easily. "I was just joking, C. I don't care what he have. Whatever. What do YOU want?"

"Hmmm...takeout?" JC pinches the bridge of his nose. "Chinese okay? And what the hell's got YOU so chipper."

"What, is it a crime to be in a good mood?" asks Justin with a smirk. "Chinese is fine with me. I'll even use chopsticks, just for your entertainment."

"Well, the phone's right there," JC gestures vaguely at the wall before collapsing into a chair himself. "GOD, I feel like crap."

"What?" says Justin looking at it. "Am *I* supposed to call? You really are a crap date, Chasez."

"This from the guy who takes negative two seconds getting dressed up for the occasion," mumbles JC, not moving his head. "Just fucking dial the phone, okay?"

"Fine," says Justin, sighing, losing hope that this is going to be a fun evening. "What the fuck do you want, then?"

"Hot and Sour soup, and an eggroll," JC says softly, wondering if his stomach will even be able to handle that. He pulls out his wallet. "Here, you can use my credit card."

"Yeah," snorts Justin. "MONEY's the problem. Whatever." He wanders over to the phone and calls the restaurant that Chris has on speed-dial, the stained menu conveniently tucked between the phone and the wall, next to the the one for Mama Rosa's Pizzaria. A very few minutes later he wanders back to the table and sits down. "I got kung pao chicken and mo-shi beef, too," he says blandly.

"Good," JC says, still in that quiet voice. "Look ... I'll be okay once I get some food in me. Don't get all pissy too; I was looking forward to this, kinda."

"Kinda?" says Justin. "Now THERE'S a ringing endorsement. If you have somewhere else you want to be, don't let ME keep you. Trust me," he says with a little grin. "I can entertain myself."

"I'm quite aware," JC says under his breath. "No, really," he says, looking up finally, "thanks for eating with me. I'd hoped you'd be feeling better; we could talk more."

"Feeling better?" says Justin. "Oh, you mean my neck? Yeah ... the sleep helped a little bit. Still fucking stiff, though." He looks JC up and down, trying to evaluate what state he's in. "Talk. Okay. Sure. I'm easy."

JC snorts. "Um. Right. And, yeah, your neck ... your attitude ... whatever. Forgiven me for all my unspoken transgressions, yet?"

Justin frowns. "What's wrong with my attitude?" He spreads his arms wide. "Ain't no problems HERE."

"That must have been one hell of a nap," JC arches his eyebrow and smirks. "Anyway. You didn't ... hear from Joey or Lance, did you?"

"C?" says Justin slowly. "I was SLEEPING. Shouldn't I be asking YOU that?" He sighs. "Besides ... I thought this dinner was just us, anyway. By TALK, I assumed you were planning on asking me even more embarassing questions about my sex life ... "

"Sure, I can do that," JC says easily, even as he grimaces when he leans back in his chair. "And it is just us, I was just ... curious.""

"I wasn't suggesting you DO," says Justin. "Why are you waiting for them anyway? They probably just went out."

"I'm ... not," JC stutters. "And they didn't JUST go out, I haven't seen them since I woke up. But, no, I think this embarrassing question idea is a good one. I'd like to hear more about how good I am in your fantasies."

"Ego much, Chasez?" snickers Justin. "And I doubt they go out on YOUR schedule, you know."

"Which schedule is that?" JC asks honestly, really feeling too much like shit to banter effectively with Justin. Maybe he discovered the key to happiness with that whole fucking himself thing.

Justin looks at him strangely. "Never mind. I was just bugging you. Do you even HAVE a sense of humor?"

"When I don't feel like ASS," JC reminds him. "Okay. You ready to start over, here?"

"You could drive a man to drink," mutters Justin, then gives JC a smile. "Okay. This is me, starting over. Did you have a good afternoon?"

JC's smile freezes on his face. "It was ... typical, let's say," he grounds out. Well, except for that whole listening-to-your-friend-jerk-off thing. "How about you? You get a chance to *do* what you needed?"

Justin narrows his eyes a little at JC, wondering if he's trying to imply anything. "Yes," he says simply. "Thanks for asking." He can still almost feel it, when he thinks about it, and it brings a bit of a smile to his face.

"You're welcome," JC smiles again, for real this time. He really needs to get his shit together if he's gonna be on the ball enough to see how far Justin's willing to go. "Look, I know I told you earlier, but I'm still sorry about your back, or neck, or whatever. You can have my room tonight if you need it."

"Nah," says Justin. "But thanks. I'm gonna make sure Chris sleeps in his OWN fucking bedroom tonight. He better not have touched any of my stuff ... "

JC snickers. "I doubt it. Chris resides with the rest of us in the land of preferring dicks that are actually ATTACHED to something."

Justin 's face falls. "Fuck you," he says quietly and looks away.

Fuck fuck FUCK. "Shit, Justin ... I didn't mean that. I'm sorry. And after I promised I'd lay off ..."

"Look, whatever," says Justin, waving him off. "It's not as if I don't know what you think."

"You don't," JC says seriously. "You don't. And I'm stopping, seriously. That wasn't cool of me."

"No, it WASN'T cool," agrees Justin, thankful that the food will be there soon so they the obligation to talk will be lessened.

JC bites his lip. "Well, as long as we're agreed on THAT. Do I have to rub your back again to make up for it, or are you just gonna sulk?"

"You COULD rub my back," agrees Justin, remembering how comfortable JC's touch is, and how seldom he finds ANYone's touch comfortable. "No obligation, or anything.

JC laughs easily. "Now you're just milking it, Timberlake. Maybe later. I'm sure I'll say something else during the course of the evening that I'll have to make up for."

Justin rubs his the back of his neck with his own hand. "I think I pulled something," he admits. "Later would be good. If you're serious." He glances at theh clock, wonders how long it'll be before they eat.

"Of course I'm serious," JC says dismissively. "Now what's got you all antsy, all of a sudden?"

"Nothing," says Justin. "Just ... " He doesn't want to tell JC how much that comment upset him. There's just no point, and JC WOULD find some way to use it against him. Eventually. "I'm hungry," he says lamely.

"Oh," JC nods, not quite believing him, but willing to let it go in the interest of peace. He checks his watch. "Should be here very-" He's cut off as the buzzer sounds. "Soon," he finishes, grinning.

"You wanna get that? I send them to the Lake street entrance ... and you're a little more dressed than me." "Sure," JC replies agreeably. "They definitely don't need to see your chicken legs." He leaves the kitchen and returns a moment later, arms full of plastic bags and cardboard cartons. "Wanna get us some drinks?"

"I have nice legs," mutters Justin as he gets up and goes for the fridge. He thinks he knows what kind of drinks JC means, but gets two cans of Coke out of the door of the fridge anyway. Just to be contrary. "See? There's another reason I stay alone. No reason to get uptight about my body. I can make sure whatever I do to it is for the right reasons."

"Trying to be attractive to other people isn't a good reason?" JC asks, pulling chopsticks and food out of the bags. "I don't think you believe that."

"I could develop a whole SHITload of complexes if I had sometimes telling me what they wanted me to be," says Justin, his stomach grumbling slightly as the smell of the food hits him. "Or just ... commenting on what they don't like about me. I take that shit from you guys because you're YOU, but not from someone who could get THAT close to me. That much potential to hurt or something. Shit, I don't want you to think I'm a GIRL or anything, but that shit gets to me. You wanna pass the rice?"

JC tosses him the rice and sits down at the table with his soup. "Huh," he says, pondering that. "I don't think I'd be more affected by something said by someone I was dating than by one of you guys. It's almost like ... no one will EVER know me that well, and if *you* find something bad enough about me to comment on, then ... it must really be bad. Y'know?"

"Well, no," says Justin. "It doesn't have to be really bad for us to comment on. That's the POINT. I know you guys, like, live inside me and I KNOW it's teasing on this totally gut level. But when you're going with someone, sleeping with them and rushing towards the love thing ... I think the words will just hit you a different way is all. I dunno. Maybe I'm wrong. And hey, does that mean you think my legs are THAT bad?" He smiles at JC as he digs into the food.

"Yes," JC says solemnly, slurping at his soup, before grinning. "Alright, I guess I see what you're saying. It's just a little ... depressing ... that you've never been with anyone like that, and *that's* what you think about. How they can say things that'll hurt you, give you complexes, instead of the ways that being in a relationship might help you grow. Or learn something about yourself."

"Well," says Justin, his mouth full, fumbling with the chopsticks. "I don't have TIME to learn about myself right now. I don't have the time and energy to deal with another person, to bring someone new into my life. I mean, ALL my energy goes toward the group, you know?"

JC arches an eyebrow pointedly. "There are ways around THAT, if you'd just get off your high horse about it. Are we not good enough for you, or something?"

Justin frowns. It feels like JC is talking circles around him here, which is an awkward and unusual feeling for him. "What do you mean?" he says. "High horse? Not good enough? What are you TALKING about, C?"

JC looks down at his soup. "I don't know. It's almost like you're saying you'd consider being with someone if you had the time and you liked them enough. With us, you *have* the time, so it must mean that you don't like us enough. Or am I missing something?"

Justin smiles a little bitterly. "You're missing the most important thing, C. The complication. I mean, fuck, just LOOK at Joey and Lance. That's SO fucked up. And it gets in the way of their work and their lives and stuff. I'm HAPPY the way I am, with what I do. How many of you guys can say THAT?" His stomach churns a bit, but his appetite isn't affected.

Popping open his coke, JC stares at Justin. "It doesn't have to be complicated. They're complicated because Lance doesn't get it. All three of them, sometimes, are guilty of trying to make what they have into more than what it is, or can be. It doesn't have to be like that, if both people are on the same page."

Justin just shrugs. "You sound like you want something, yourself," he says mildly. "Not like you're just trying to convince ME that being by myself is an inadequate state of being."

"Whoa, there, tiger," JC scoffs. "Where the hell are you getting THAT from?"

"Well, gee, I don't know," says Justin. "Maybe the fact that you've spent all day telling me how great relationships with other people are?"

"Well, they ARE," JC insists. "Or they can be. I just still think it's ridiculous that you know you don't want one when you don't even know ... wait. How did we start talking about this anyway? I thought I was supposed to be telling you how much you need to get laid."

Justin laughs. "I don't need to get laid. I can get laid whenever I want to." He takes another bite of the food, stuffing his mouth full. "Know what? I don't have to set myself on fire to know that it'll burn. I don't have to fly to China to know that it's far. And I DON'T have to get into a relationship to know that it's complicated. Got me now?"

"Oh, I got you," JC says, reaching for his eggroll, surprised to see that his soup's gone. "You're so very clever. All I'm saying is that a 'relationship' is only as complicated as you make it: you can get good sex, relatively MEANINGFUL sex, without getting into the rest of the crap. And no," he finishes, "you aren't getting laid whenever you want to. Sitting on your hand doesn't count."

Justin just shuts down again. "Whatever," he mutters, and fills his mouth again so he doesn't have to talk. JC chews his own food for a minute, even reaching for some of the cartons in front of Justin. He doesn't remember his appetite being this good in a long time. "You're such a baby," he says finally. "Why do you have to sulk like that, whenever someone questions this decision you've made?"

"Yeah, well, maybe if it didn't happen five times a day, EVERY fucking day. Maybe then it wouldn't bother me quite so much." He takes one of the cartons back from JC possessively. "You're on my ass about being a virgin more than I'm on your ass about the fucking drinking. Which is saying a LOT, C."

"Probably just goes to show you how much more fucked-up your little issue is, I guess," JC retorts, grabbing the other carton that Justin abandoned.

"That's just ... " Justin shoves his chair back and stands up abruptly. "Fuck you, Chasez. I have better things to do."

"Of COURSE you do," JC waves him off, shoving some food in his mouth. "Run away. Go pout. Or go jerk off, again, more likely. Thanks for your attempt at participating in a grown-up conversation."

"This wasn't grown-up conversation," says Justin bitterly. "This was JC with some sort of fucked-up agenda. No thanks. Have a drink, why don't you, while I go jerk-off? Because that's all there is to us, isn't it ... ?"

JC shudders again at the mention of having a drink. "What 'agenda'? And you're the one that makes such a big deal out of jerking off, not the rest of us."

"*I* make a big deal out of it? I don't even bring it UP, unless someone else does. Until someone else wants to fucking WATCH, or something." He shudders. "You don't KNOW how uncomfortable that makes me ... " He realizes he's drifting away from the point and turns away again.

Feeling the *slightest* twinge of guilt at that -- although he didn't *watch* -- JC gets even more defensive. "Then maybe you shouldn't go off so much about how good it is, ever think of that? And WHAT AGENDA?"

"You're trying to get me to say something, or talk about something, or DO something. And I'm not sure which ... " Justin resents somehow not being allowed to talk about how good HIS sex life is when the rest of the guys do it all the time, but that's an argument he doesn't want to have again so soon.

"Believe me," JC breathes, "I wouldn't presume to try and influence you like that." Right now, he really wouldn't. His head still hurts too much, and Justin's too stubborn and prideful, and it's just ... not worth it.

"Well ... " Justin pauses, then turns around again. "CAN we have an adult conversation, then? WithOUT putting each other down?"

"Sure," JC says after a second, swallowing some more of his coke and counting to ten for the lord to give him patience to deal with such a conflicted man. "What would you like to talk about?"

Justin shrugs. "Good Chinese food, huh ... "

JC laughs wryly. "Just forget it. You won't offend me if you'd rather go be alone. I'm sure Lance and Joey'll be back any second; you don't have to keep me company. Since it's such an onerus task, and all."

"It's NOT," says Justin, pushing his glasses up his nose then staring at JC for a long moment. "I'd just like to go through a night without being put down. That's all."

"Okay, okay!" JC holds up his hands, grinning. "You won't hear another uncomplimentary thing from my lips the rest of the night. Unless you make me talk about Lance. Then I don't make any promises."

Justin frowns. "What's wrong with Lance?" He picks at the food again, now that it's back in front of him. "I thought Lance was the innocent party in this little game you've got going on ... ?"

"Justin..." JC starts warningly, then shakes his head. "What 'little game'?"

"You and Joey," says Justin quietly. "You know what I'm talking about."

"It's not a game," JC matches Justin's tone. "It's just ... what it is. And Lance won't understand that. Or ... resents it, or something. *I* don't know."

"Well, can you BLAME him?" asks Justin, seriously. "You're screwing his boyfriend, JC. Let's not mince words here."

"Well, technically, his 'boyfriend' is screwing ME," JC retorts. "If we're not 'mincing words'. And I guess I don't quite see how it's something in my interest to stop doing."

"That's ... that's just SO fucked up. You know that, right?" Justin looks away, both disgusted and dissapointed. He KNEW this, but it still sucks to hear it.

JC bites his lip. "So I guess that whole 'going through a night without being put down' only works one way, huh?"

"Sorry," mutters Justin, regretting that he brought it up. "I wish you guys weren't doing that, though."

JC shrugs and furrows his brow. "WHy do you care so much? And ... why aren't you talking to Joey about it?"

"Joey's kind of a prick," says Justin, shrugging.

"Yeah," JC smiles ruefully. "Oh well. He makes up for it in other ways."

Justin coughs politely. "So are you, sometimes. But not the way he is."

JC's jaw drops a little. "Wow, it REALLY only works one way. Um. Okay. Wanna explain that?"

Justin signs. He didn't really want to go here. "You're sleeping with someone else's boyfriend -- no matter WHO it is that gets fucked -- and that really kinda sucks, JC. Especially that you don't CARE. And you can be a real ass when you're drunk. You go out of your way to make me feel little, because you know you can, I think. Happy now?"

"Wow, am I supposed to be?" JC frowns, not quite sure if he set himself up for that, and if this is what it's gonna take to get Justin to open up to him in other ways. "Thanks for that ... character assessment. I'm almost scared to ask whether Joey's better or worse."

"You can blame the liquor," says Justin simply. "He can't. So ... I guess he's the bigger prick."

"I'm not drunk ALL the time," JC responds sullenly, not really appeased by Justin's statement about their relative degrees of evil-ness. "And ... he only does what he does 'cause he can. Just like the rest of us."

"Exactly. Because he can. Not thinking of ANYone else. Not even LANCE." He picks at his food again. "He should at least be thinking about Lance, if not the rest of us."

JC stands up to grab another coke, not looking at Justin. "Maybe he doesn't *want* to think about Lance. Ever considered that?"

"Then maybe he shouldnt' BE with Lance, because Lance sure as hell thinks about HIM."

"Then that's Lance's problem, and Joey's. But it's not mine, and it SURE as hell isn't yours." JC doesn't sit back down. "I'll ask again: why do you CARE so much?"

"The question shouldn't be why I care," says Justin, his voice suddenly quite and a little sad. "It's why you guys DON'T."

JC considers that. "Maybe we should. But it still wouldn't be any of your business. So I still want an answer to my question."

"What question?" asks Justin. "You're actually still wondering why I CARE?"

"For the third time, yes!" JC grunts, suddenly feeling like his stomach isn't too queasy for a little rum to add to his coke, after all.

"Because," says Justin shortly. "You four, I know you better than any other fucking person on the planet. You helped fucking RAISE me. And I hate watching you all degenerate into these people I see now. I hate that you hurt each other, hurt yourselves, hurt ME. It really sucks."

"Oh," JC says quietly, and wonders if he should mention that he's sorry he asked. "I think ... I think there's maybe not as much hurting going on as you think there is, Just. We're okay, okay? We'll all work on being more ... sensitive ... about what we say to you. And, uh ... you should just try to ignore the Lance-Joey saga. And then ... everything's cool otherwise, right?"

"Yeah, I guess," says Justin, not pointing out how it's JC who hurts him the most. Probably because he acknowledges he may also be the person who hurts *JC* the most. "You gonna finish that?" he asks, pointing at JC's plate.

"What?" JC looks over at the table. "God, no. I already ate, like, three times as much as I thought I would. I'd go try and puke it up if it wouldn't give you just one more thing to give me shit about."

"You need to eat more anyway," mutters Justin, pulling the plate towards himself. "I don't LOOK for things to give you shit about. I don't have to."

"Damn, you're on a roll," JC says under his breath, fairly certain at this point that no matter what happens, it won't be worth the ego-bashing he's enduring. "C'mon, baby, let it all out. What does THAT mean?"

"It means I fucking HATE watching you do this to yourself, all right? Most of the time I don't GIVE a shit about what it does to me, it's what it does to YOU!" Justin glares at him. "FUCK. Don't you GET that?"

"Do *what* to myself?" JC snaps back, trying not to raise his voice. "What am I doing?"

"You drink. A lot. You don't eat nearly enough. You do other shit, drugs, I don't even know WHAT half the time. You fuck around with Joey, and other people. You probably don't have an OUNCE of self-esteem in your whole fucking body. You make me WORRY about you. Jesus."

"Wow. Okay, Justin, okay..." JC says soothingly, taking in how worked up Justin's getting, wondering if a comforting hug would earn him a punch in the face. "I'm alright, man. I'm taking care of myself. You don't need to worry."

"Yeah, I do," mutters Justin. "Because who else is going to, huh? Who ELSE is going to care?"

"Okay, THAT'S enough," JC says shortly, slamming his can down on the counter. "I've heard a lot of crap from you tonight, but I'm not gonna stand here and listen to you being just deliberately ... shitty ... to me. I'm NOT. So FUCK you, Justin."

"Why?" asks Justin. "Because I fucking WORRY about you? Because I'm telling it like I see it? Because I WANT you to be that guy who lives in my fantasies?"

"Oh, stop," JC grimaces, contempt in his voice. "You don't mean that. And I'm not gonna let you try and use it to get me to do what you want, clean up my act or whatever, either. 'Cause I don't think you'd follow through."

"Follow through with WHAT, exactly?" Justin grits his teeth, sorry he said ANYthing, sorry he even LET JC know he cared. Now it's just another thing to mock him about.

"That fantasy crap," JC replies, rubbing his forehead. "Sex, I guess, unless there's more to it than me 'fucking you like a machine,' I believe it was."

"It's just a fantasy," mutters Justin. "It's not like I ever EXPECTED you to live up to it, or anything. I'm sure I'm nothing like the Justin in YOUR fantasies."

"Not like you'd give me a CHANCE," JC replies, before he realizes that's probably more than he should have said, too. He DOES manage to bite back the comment about how the Justin in his fantasies isn't scared to be touched.

"What kind of chance do you want?" asks Justin quietly.

"What?" JC gawks at him, not sure he heard that correctly.

"What kind of chance do you WANT?" repeats Justin. "Or is this just another clumsy attempt to get bragging rights on nabbing Justin's virginity?"

JC stalks over to Justin and grabs his chin firmly in his hand. "Why don't you be clear on what you're offering, Justin. Bragging rights don't interest me."

"I'm not offering anything, yet," says Justin. "I'm asking a question. What's this all about? Where's all this leading?"

"That's what *I'm* asking," JC says, still holding Justin's face. "*You're* the one that said you want me to be that guy in your fantasies."

"I wish you were," says Justin, wrenching his face away. "That would make this all a WHOLE hell of a lot more easier, you know."

"Make WHAT easier," JC asks, softer, touching a finger to Justin's jaw to force him to look at him again.

"Nothing," snaps Justin. "You don't want to hear it."

JC steps closer, letting more of his hand caress Justin's cheek, as long as he's letting him. "Yes. I do."

*Justin closes his eyes for a moment, then shakes himself out of it. "Wanting you. Would be easier if I could have the you I want to have. Are you fucking happy now?"

"You keep asking me that," JC frowns, not moving away. "Is that how you expect me to feel, when you admit something that obviously kills you to say?"

"Yeah, kinda," says Justin. "I expect you to be ... victorious or something. You win, and all. You get the power, over me."

"This isn't a fight," JC whispers, cupping the back of Justin's neck. "You'll get something out of it, too."

"Wait," says Justin shakily. "Look, I'm not saying I'm going to do anything, not yet. Just ... that I think about it."

"Yeah?" JC asks, inching closer and letting his other hand rest softly on Justin's hip. "How often?"

Justin closes his eyes again, freezing. "JC ... " he says softly. "Don't do this unless you mean it ... "

"Mean what, Justin," JC breathes, taking a risk and letting his fingers trail over Justin's lips.

Justin 's body is rigid. "JC," he gets out. "Stop. Please."

JC pulls back like he's been burned. "I'm ... sorry," he mumbles, turning away, wondering if it's possible to feel totally rejected and disgustingly predatory at once. "God, Justin, I'm ... just sorry."

Justin bites his lip. "Not like that. Okay?"

"Yeah," JC mutters, rubbing the back of his neck distractedly before leaning over the counter and taking a couple breaths. "Sure, whatever you say."

Justin takes a deep breath. "I didn't say *not*," he says, a little more clearly. "I said not like *that*."

"Not like what," JC mumbles, still not looking at him, trying to get his pulse under control -- suddenly concerned that JUSTIN coming too soon wouldn't be the problem if they ever got to that point.

"Not ... scary," says Justin, not able to find the right word for what he felt, right then.

"I didn't even DO anything," JC blurts out. "How is that SCARY?"

"You did," says Justin. "And it was. Fuck. I'm sorry, okay?"

"You don't have to be," JC sighs, bending over again. "I'm not mad. I apologize for ... touching you, without permission, I guess."

"It's not that," says Justin, looking away. "It was ... sudden. We should talk about it. Shouldn't we?"

JC looks back. "Should we? Are you serious, here?"

Justin hesitates, then nods, slightly.

"Wow, okay," JC exhales. "This is ... unexpected."

Justin snorts. "Yeah. TELL me about it."

"Okay," JC backpedals a little. "Maybe this isn't happening. Maybe ... we got caught up in trying to get each other to admit things. I think ... it just seems like you aren't ready."

"I don't think I am," admits Justin. "Is this my only chance, though?"

"No," JC says slowly, clearly, before standing up and stretching. "I'm not going anywhere. ANd ... I'm proud of you."

Justin blinks in confusion. "What? PROUD of me?"

"Yeah," JC shrugs. "I'm kinda hoping you stopped because of your whole 'policy' thing, not 'cause you were just totally turned off by me." He smiles, wryly. "DOn't burst my bubble, man."

"Policy. Uncertainty. Fear. Whatever. Yeah."

"Okay then," JC pats his shoulder as he walks by. "So come find me, when you're over that."

"Stop," say Justin, gritting his teeth. "Stop being so DAMN condescending. Please?"

JC turns back around, mouth open a little. "I'm NOT," he says forcefully, honestly. "I was being SERIOUS. I *want* to try that again, when you're ready."

"So ... " says Justin, thoroughly flustered now. "Okay. Does that mean YOU'RE ready? Now? And for WHAT?" He looks away. "Fuck. YOu know I don't know what the fuck I'm doing, right?"

JC chuckles a little. "Yeah. That's why I'm leaving. Just ... think about it. And COME FIND ME. I mean that in the most non-condescending way possible."

Justin nods, smiles a little. Then braces himself, grabs the front of JC's shirt, and pulls him into a hard kiss. On the lips.

"Holy- " JC gets out before Justin's lips close over his. He's too surprised to do anything but let Justin kiss him for a minute, but then instinct and sensation and *hormones* take over and he's teasing at Justin's mouth with his tongue.

Justin is clumsy, at first, not quite knowing where his lips and teeth and tongue are supposed to go. But then JC takes the lead and it gets easier each moment that passes.

JC sneaks a hand up to cup Justin's face again, trying to slow the somewhat frantic and eager pace that Justin had set. His lips are soft and wet and it's taking most of his self-control not to get too aggressive.

Justin grips JC's waist with restless hands, not quite knowing what to do with them, what he SHOULD do with them. He knows what would probably feel good ... but would probably be just ENTIRELY too fast. Right now, it's just a kiss. One long, soft, deep kiss.

Finally, JC pulls back, and notices that Justin's hand is still fisted in his shirt. He looks at Justin questioningly; not sure what to say.

"Um," says Justin. He looks down at his hand, then forces himself to let go. He looks back up at JC and smiles, just a bit. "I feel dizzy," he says quietly, not quite knowing how else to put it.

JC smiles back, touching Justin's elbow briefly. "Then you did it right," he replies. "I'm fighting every cheesy bone in my body to ask you whether you're SURE you've never done that before."

"You can touch me now," whispers Justin, looking down.

Stepping closer but not touching him, JC ducks his head to try and catch Justin's gaze. "Is that a request, or simply granting permission?"

"Just ... saying it's okay. I'm thinking it might feel good, to have YOU touch me. Okay? So ... it's both, I guess." Justin lets JC catch his gaze for a moment then looks away again.

JC doesn't say anything, but steps between Justin's legs and lets their lips touch again in a lingering kiss.

Justin is surprised by the kiss, but he doesn't pull away. It feels a whole lot nicer than he'd thought it would, after all, and JC was the one to start it this time. Which makes it different.

JC lets go of Justin's lower lip reluctantly, but keeps his face fairly close when he does. "Touch you, like that? Or did you have something else in mind?"

"That's ... good," says Justin breathlessly. "Um. Okay. Yeah."

Chuckling, JC kisses him again briefly, then steps back, crossing his arms. "Okay. What brought THAT on?"

"Was it a mistake?" asks Justin reluctantly. "I just ... it felt right. I don't have a better answer for you than that."

"It *felt* right, or it *feels* right?" JC presses. "You're not gonna get any complaints out of ME."

"Feels," says Justin, struggling with the admission. "Feels, okay?"

"Okay," JC says easily, not able to help letting his fingers trail down Justin's arm again. "Well. That's good, right?"

Justin shrugs. "It makes things harder again. That I like it. A lot."

"It doesn't HAVE to make things harder," JC disagrees. "'Cause I liked it too, which makes it all seem pretty damn simple to me."

"For you. Yeah," says Justin, fidgeting. "I've never DONE this. And I wasn't planning to, not yet. And now ... "

"Now, what?" JC says softly, linking his pinky with Justin's. "You can't plan *everything* that happens to you, Justin. Sometimes you can't even control what you're gonna do, yourself."

Justin snorts. "Yeah. OBVIOUSLY. Because it's not like I PLANNED to lust for you, or anything. But here I am. Lusting."

"Lusting," JC repeats the word, considering it, tugging on Justin's finger. "From just a couple kisses?"

"From a couple years of fantasies," corrects Justin. "And yeah. From my first kiss."

JC's face softens and the corner of his lips curve into a smile. "I hope it was everything you wanted it to be, Justin. It wasn't ... scary, that time?"

"No," says Justin quietly. "It wasn't scary. Not BAD scary, anyway. Just ... a little bit life-changing scary."

JC touches Justin's cheek with his other hand briefly. "Justin, I'm gonna say this, but I wnat you to remember first that it was really hot and I'd love to do it as much as you want: it was still only a kiss. It doesn't have to mean more than that; it doesn't have to LEAD to more than that."

"I know that," says Justin. "I'm just waging war inside my own head right now, C. This might take me a bit more time ... "

"Waging WAR?" JC bites back a smile. "Um ... everything okay in there? What's the big debate about?"

"You know," says Justin awkwardly. "I was pretty sure about a few things. And now there's another part of me that's pretty sure about a few OTHER things. And they ... aren't exactly compatible."

"Okay, Cryptic Boy," JC grins, letting go of Justin's hand finally and jumping up onto the counter. "What is it that you're so sure about, and why isn't it vibing?"

Justin snickers at him. "Do you know how damn PROUD of yourself you look right now?"

"What?" JC feigns an innocent look. "What for? Nothing new for ME."

"I'M new," says Justin. "And you know it."

"Okay," JC relents. "It was ... definitely cool, kissing you. ALthough I'd feel a little better if you weren't so CONFLICTED."

"It was more than cool," says Justin. "It was fucking everything. And it wasn't SUPPOSED to be. I was supposed to be OKAY with just being with me. And you messed that up ... "

"Hey," JC frowns, swinging his legs, "YOU kissed ME. YOU fantasized about ME. *I* didn't mess anything up."

"Yeah, you did," says Justin. "Because you were you, and it happened the way it was supposed to, and it was BETTER than fantasy. And it's fucking MESSING me up because I want more JC. All right? Do you get it now?"

JC can't help but smile to himself because kissing Justin had elicited a reaction even better than he had hoped for, but he really doesn't know how to handle the fact that it has the other man so upset and ... argumentative ... at the same time. "I guess I kinda don't," JC says slowly, keeping his distance by staying on the counter. "If it all happened the way you wanted it to, but better, then ... don't you think the same might hold true for anything ... else ... we might do?"

"Yeah," says Justin. "I think it will. JC ... I never had any doubt that I would LIKE it, you know. Though maybe, just maybe, it'll be better than I thought. It's ... everything else. I don't deal great with your teasing now ... so how's it gonna feel to me when I feel like there's more at stake, you know? Complications. I think I've already got 'em, dammit. And ... well, nevermind."

"No, what?" JC asks, watching Justin carefully. "Don't say 'nevermind.' And, hey ... if we do what I think you're implying, then that removes half the reason I ever tease you, anyway. Unless you mean a different kind of teasing...?"

"I don't think I can deal with you sleeping around," adds Justin honestly, "if we decide to fuck. And I know you do and you have no problems with it, so ... " He sighs. "Yeah, just roll your eyes at me. So sue me if I don't want my first fucking time to be cheap."

"It wouldn't be *cheap*," JC replies, a little stung. "God, don't you think I completely realize what a big deal this is, how much this means to YOU, especially? I'd take care of you. I'm not an asshole, Justin, jesus." He doesn't know what to say in response to the 'sleeping around' part. He's not sure if Justin cares because he'd want it to actually evolve into a *relationship* and therefore expect monogamy, or just because he doesn't want to feel like the one time they DO do it didn't mean anything to JC.

Justin swallows nervously. "Look, I didn't mean this to turn into some big fucking heartfelt conversation, okay? I never meant this to happen at all, but it did ... and I don't want to take it back now. But you need to know -- I don't want to do this with anybody BUT you, okay? I never have. It was always you."

This is all totally new and totally unexpected for JC: to have someone actually want *him*, for whatever reason, and not just because he was available and easy. And then, the fact that it's JUSTIN, who (JC thought) always seemed to be above the rest of them, holding himself separate so he wouldn't be *tainted* or anything ... to hear him admit that he'd *always* thought of JC in that way? Part of him *did* want to lord it over the younger man, but the rest of him realizes that if he's gonna actually break though the rest of Justin's defenses, he's going to have to tread carefully. "That's ... sweet, Justin," JC says finally, trying his best to smile innocently. "I didn't know you felt like that; I'm glad you finally told me. You don't ... have to say anything else, though, okay?"

Justin's face falls and he nods a bit. "Okay," he says. "I won't. Sorry. Nice that you think it's 'sweet' though. God, could you BE any more condescending?" He knew it had been a mistake to say anything, to let him in. To put into words for the first time the things that he'd been thinking and feeling. "Thanks for the kiss, though. It was certainly memorable."

JC slides off the counter and goes to stand in front of Justin. "Stop being scared -- it's making you defensive, and you're not *listening* to me. What you said was SWEET. That doesn't mean childish, or immature, or naive. You don't have to be ashamed of that." He sighs, but doesn't look away. "It's just that, like everything else you've admitted tonight, it seemed like torture to say it out loud. I was just trying to tell you that you don't HAVE to say that kind of stuff to be able to kiss me again."

"I don't HAVE to do anything," says Justin with a snort. "*I* thought it was pretty important for you to hear that. For ME to know that you know it. I'm still being selfish here. I'm doing the things that *I* need, okay? And ... maybe I thought you might LIKE to hear it, too. To know that I'm not just doing this because you were pushy and available. Though, really, I'm not even sure that matters to you ... " He looks down, tries not to let that thought get to him. This opening up thing is hell on the nerves, that's for sure.

"It matters," JC says, a little desperately, not wanting this opportunity to slip through his fingers like it seems like it's doing. "I'm just ... apprehensive? About reacting too strongly, Justin. You're like a trapped animal right now, and I don't want to scare you off by assuming you mean one thing when you really mean something else -- especially when you don't want a 'heartfelt conversation,' or whatever. Just tell me what I'm supposed to be saying!"

"Okay," says Justin. "Just ... gimme a sec here." He closes his eyes, counts to ten, makes sure he's completely calm when he opens them again. "If you're thinking I want to have sex with you, well, you're right. I do. It's just ... the TIMING. And, well, I don't WANT to have sex outside a relationship. So ... there you have it. My deepest darkest fucking secret. I DO want to have a fucking heartfelt conversation about this, but it's not like I know HOW. And it's not like I think you want the same things as me, which kind of renders it pointless, anyway." His calm didn't remain long, but at least it let him collect his thoughts before he went and spewed them out. "I'm not asking for grand romance or anything. Just ... not to be a one-night-stand, I guess."

"Shit," JC breathes, completely unprepared for everything that had just come out of Justin's mouth. He grabs his fingers again, somehow thinking that maybe the contact is what will help Justin believe what he's telling him. "Shit, Justin ... I don't even know what to say to that. Look, I'm totally willing to try and be what you want me to be -- you know I love you, and I've always been hot for you -- but I guess I'm not all clear on what that IS, exactly. Where's the middle ground between romance and a one-night-stand, since I don't think you mean you want to be fuck-buddies?" He closes his eyes and squeezes Justin's hand. "Or would you rather that I not even try, since you don't seem to have a lot of faith in me?"

"Just ... tell me why you're willing," says Justin. "Tell me why you might want this, too. WHAT you want, even, because I don't have a clue. I mean ... am I just virgin territory, or something? A challenge? Something you've never had? I WANT to have faith in you, JC ... so tell me why I should, okay?" He doesn't know what the middle ground is, either. Doesn't know if there IS one. Maybe they'll just be fuck buddies and he'll have to be okay with that. He's pretty sure JC isn't capable of much more, not at this point in his life, not when he runs on alcohol the way most people run on food and sunshine.

"Okay," JC says a little dumbly, not used to having to put this much *thought* into sleeping with someone. Even the people that are challenges don't ask him to justify himself. And standing so close to Justin, his face flushed again with the intensity of what he's feeling, all JC wants to do his kiss him senseless so he STOPS TALKING. He starts playing with Justin's fingers and speaking quickly. "I'm willing because this is really a big deal, as much as the rest of us like to pretend it isn't, and if you share it with *me*, then I don't have to worry about what might happen to you if you went to someone else. I want it to be good for you, and I know that I can make that happen. As for me ... well, it's nice to have someone there, to be close to, to put my arms around." *To keep me from being alone*, he thinks, but doesn't add.

Justin nods silently, making his decision, and just stares at JC for a moment before he speaks. "Okay, then," he says finally, meeting JC's eyes the whole time. "When?"

"When?" JC repeats, not understanding. "When, wha- oh. OH." He doesn't even try to keep the smile from his face when he realizes that he must've said something right, and starts babbling. "Whenever you feel like it, I guess? Whenever you're ready? There's no hurry, we don't have to do everything right away, we can take it as slow as you want, just let me know how you want it to be, what you have in mind ..."

Justin grins at him, grabs his shirt, and pulls him into another long, slow kiss. "Soon." he says when they part, their lips still close together. "I just need to sort some stuff out, okay? But ... I guess kissing isn't off-limits anymore, huh?" The grin is still on his face, and he's feeling surprisingly light-hearted about the whole thing, at the moment. It's a bit of a relief, he realizes, to have said yes.

"Sure, okay," JC nods, forcing a calmer expression on his face, and kissing Justin briefly. "Soon. Uh ... just let me know." He brushes a curl off Justin's forehead and leans in for another kiss, when he hears voices outside the door and a key turning in the lock. Letting go of Justin quickly, he steps back and gives him a slightly guilty look.

Justin is both relieved and disappointed that JC moved away. He knew that HE wasn't ready to be caught kissing someone yet, but what did JC have to worry about? Or was JC doing it for him? "You'll know," he promises, turning toward the door a bit as he speaks. 'Are we ... um ... done dinner now? Did you have something else you needed to do?"

"Like what?" JC can't resist smirking a little. "No, I think we're done ... uh, do you mind putting that stuff away? I kinda gotta ..." He trails off as he turns around, wanting to be out of the room before Lance and Joey get there, still not ready to have to see Lance after last night.

"Yeah, sure, I'll clean up," says Justin. It's really the least he can do after JC made lunch earlier. "You go do ... whatever. I'll probably be in my room later." He pauses, looks at JC speculatively. "If you wanted to come by. Not for THAT. Just for ... whatever. Um ... but remember to knock, okay?"

"Right," JC chuckles, looking back over his shoulder as he heads down the hall. "Alright, we'll ... see, I guess. Thanks, Justin." He practically starts running when he hears the front door open, diving into the safety of his room and shutting the door behind him.

Justin starts putting the leftovers in the fridge and tossing the empty containers in the garbage, not letting himself wonder just why JC needed to take off so damn fast. He looks up as the door finally opens. "Hey guys," he says, trying to sound like his usual self. "Did you have a good day?"

-----

JC winces a little as he creeps out of Joey's room, reaching behind him to close the door softly. He can see the light on in the office where Lance is still working and does NOT need to get caught. Certainly not looking like he does, just-fucked: half-naked, with dried cum all over him, walking gingerly. If he can just make it to the bathroom, he'll be safe -- one of the good things about drinking as much as he does is that the rest of the guys don't question his odd shower habits any more.

He frowns as he walks past the door and hears Lance typing away; deep down he knows it's the only reason Joey came and got him tonight, AND the reason he made him leave right after, like always. Briefly he wonders why he decided to sit in his room waiting for him instead of visiting Justin, but the answer isn't that tough: it'd been too long -- more than a day -- since he'd gotten laid, and waiting for Joey he at least had a chance. With Justin it was just ... waiting. And at least Joey didn't care if he was blitzed off his ass, either.

Justin reaches for his bedside light and gropes for the switch but doesn't find it easily. Sighing and deciding he doesn't really NEED light to get up and go for a piss, he does manage to grab his glasses and put them on so he doesn't wake everyone else up stumbling on his way to the bathroom. He's wearing boxers to bed -- not a usual habit, but he decided he'd better have something on in case JC decided to show up -- and doesn't bother to put on anything more than that. He quietly steps out into the hallway and turns toward the bathroom, then stills as he sees JC in the hallway with him.

JC freezes, groaning to himself when he sees Justin come out of the bedroom, and gestures at him to be quiet even as he clutches the clothes he has bundled in his arms to his chest. Then he points at the bathroom and smiles slightly, mouthing "go ahead" to the younger man.

Justin takes in the sight, JC looking thoroughly fucked, sneaking through the house and carrying his clothes. It doesn't take a fucking genius to figure out what's going on here, and he can't believe how stupid he's been. He gives JC a stony look and shakes his head angrily, then just slips back into his bedroom and slams the door. What does HE care if he wakes anyone up now. Obviously they were already up. In more ways than one.

*Fuck*, JC thinks as he looks down at himself, knowing he's not fooling anyone. He moves to knock on Justin's door, but before he can he notices that Lance has stopped typing. Slipping into the bathroom is really the only way to avoid being caught, especially if Justin is gonna make him apologize or some shit before he lets him in, so he resigns himself to taking a shower before trying to dig himself out of that hole. Idly he wonders if it'll help sober him up, too, but thinks that might be a lost cause when he stumbles against the sink trying to dry himself off.

Justin lays back down on the bed, in the dark, and takes his glasses off again. It's easy to ignore the banging in his bladder now, faced with this new revelation. How COULD he have been so fucking stupid? To think that JC would be the person he wanted him to be. He'd been spending too much time with his fantasies and not enough time in the real world. JC wasn't CAPABLE of being that person, not yet, and Justin would do well to remind himself of that a little more often, especially in his weaker moments. Like tonight. He's just glad, now, that all they did was kiss. At least he could live with that.

When JC opens the bathroom door again, steam billowing out into the hall, the light in the office is off and he can hear murmured conversation from Lance and Joey's room. He bites his lip and starts toward his own room before he remembers Justin and the fact that he really needs to do some damage control. He leans his forehead against his door and raps softly. "Just? Listen, can you let me in? I can ... explain ..."

"It's open," says Justin flatly from inside the room. "Thanks for at least fucking showering." He doesn't really want to see JC right now, but he'd been expecting it.

"Oh," JC murmurs, pushing the door open and then shutting it softly behind him with another furtive look down the hall. He shifts his weight between his feet nervously, not able to see Justin beyond a big dark shape on the bed. "Uh...you're welcome? I'm done, in the bathroom, since you ... I guess, needed to use it...?"

Justin waves his hand dismissively. "The urge passed," he says. "Did you need something, JC?" he asks, knowing full well the multiple meanings of his words.

JC doesn't know what to say, having expected Justin to really lay into him. This ... *nonreaction* was just confusing him. Did he not realize what JC had done after all? Or did he just not care? No, he had seemed really bitter with that shower comment; he must know *something* happened and it must be bothering him. The question then is whether it was better to just ignore it, as Justin seemed to be doing. "No, I guess not," he says softly, sticking his hands in his pockets but not turning to leave, yet. "You seemed mad at something, but I guess I was wrong."

"Disappointed," says Justin quietly. "Not mad. I just needed to remind myself that you never promised me anything, JC. And, thank God, I never actually promised you anything either. I've thought about it now, by the way, in case you were wondering. I wasn't going to bring it up until tomorrow morning, but since you're here now ... The answer is no. Good night, JC."

"Fuck," JC spits, squinting in the dark. "What the hell, Justin? I thought when you said you had things to sort out, or whatever, it was shit like who'd do who, and where. Not whether it would happen at all! Fuck."

"I thought that's what it was going to be, too," says Justin, his voice still dangerously calm. Flat. "Like I said, I was pretty disappointed. I was actually starting to look forward to it. But ... whatever. You made your choice and I made mine. What ... did you think that once I said I'd sleep with you, that gave you license to go out and fuck Joey that very same night because, hey, no obligation to Justin or anything? He already said yes, after all."

"You didn't say I couldn't," JC replies shrilly. He winces as he realizes how pathetic that sounds, but wraps his arms across his chest and doesn't take it back.

"You're right, I didn't," says Justin. "I didn't think I had to. But like I also said, you never promised me anything, JC. Don't worry, you didn't do anything wrong. You just don't get to have me. And that IS my choice to make."

"Fuck," JC says again, for lack of anything better to say. He's not sober enough to come up with any good counter-points, which just makes him angrier. "I *knew* you were gonna fucking back out on it, anyway, Timberlake. Don't fool yourself that I even bothered to get my hopes up."

Justin closes his eyes and rolls away from him. This whole thing has just turned into one big disaster. "I need to take something back," he says, choking a bit as he forceably holds back the tears that INSIST on building up in his eyes. "I DO regret the kiss. I should have saved that for someone that respected me. Maybe even liked me."

Justin's words, delivered in that shaky voice, make JC immediately guilty for what he said. "God, Justin, don't say that. I respect you. I'm sorry. And you *know* I like you; I want you so bad I can taste it, taste *you* -- a couple kisses in the kitchen were just not enough. Just, please ... don't take that away, before I've even gotten a chance." It sounds vaguely like begging, but one of the wonders of alcohol is the relative lack of shame.

"I can't take that away," says Justin bitterly. "You already HAVE that, and you always will, now. Anything else? I don't know anymore. Do you think you can fucking keep it in your pants? At least, as long as you're with me? You can't have me and be with him, JC. I'm cutting you a fucking LOT of slack here -- have I even MENTIONED that you came in here stumbling drunk? -- but you can't have THAT. That's the limit of my tolerance. You can't have that and still have me."

JC steps forward a little and sits gently on the edge of the bed, keeping his weight on his hip, and reaches out a hand to touch Justin's leg. "I'm sorry," he says again, nodding. "I didn't know; he just came by and I wasn't thinking and ... yeah, I won't do it again, if we're gonna get together." He just hopes he can remember that. "Um ... do you have any idea how long ...?"

"No," confesses Justin. "I don't. If you don't want to do this, JC, just say so now, okay? I DO have something to fall back on, you know. It won't be the end of the world." He can almost see JC now, thought he's still a bit of a dark blur. "And I'm not going to make you keep this a secret either, just so you know." Actually, Justin HAD been planning on making him keep it a secret, at least for a while, and is suprised when those words leave his mouth.

"Oh, okay," JC says softly, smiling a little even though it hadn't occured to him to tell anyone anyway. But since he usually let stuff slip when he wasn't supposed to, he's grateful for Justin not making him try to keep it a secret. After a second he curls up at the foot of the bed, still petting Justin's calf in soothing strokes. "I want this, Justin, I just ... thought I'd get some idea how long I had to wait."

"I don't know," says Justin. "I didn't expect it to be now, at all. I didn't think I would be with anyone for a long time. And now ... I think we're barrelling toward the inevitable here. Both of us. At this rate ... I don't think it'll be long." Justin doesn't want to get into his issues right now, doesn't really want to SAY what things he needs to get past before this can happen. Like worrying about what happens after. Like suppressing his urge to cringe at being touched -- though that one is fading fast, with JC. Like getting used to the idea that he might not be in control for once. That ALREADY, this is getting out of his control.

"Okay, good," JC exhales. That should make saying 'no' to Joey easier, knowing that being with Justin was pretty imminent. He lets his hand drift a little higher, tracing around Justin's knee. "You still want it too, then?"

"God yes," says Justin with a smile and a sigh, somewhat more comfortable with that admission, now. "I'm fucking hard right now, you know. NOT that you needed to know that or anything. And NOT that I'm going to do anything about it." *With you here, anyway,* he adds silently, already thinking ahead to how he's going to relieve himself.

JC picks his head up, trying to see Justin's face when he says that, before letting it fall back to the bed and resuming his light exploration of Justin's leg. "How come?" he asks. "It turns you on when the guy you're considering making love to makes an ass out of himself?"

"No," says Justin softly. "Only when he touches me." He shifts a little under JC's caresses. "You know if you fuck Joey again it's over, right? I mean ... we're clear on that." He clears his throat nervously. "Because I don't want to go any further if we're not."

"I heard you the first time, Justin," JC mumbles sleepily into the sheets, wondering how long that'll last, and what Joey'll think about all of it, and whether it'll be worth it. His fingers start creeping up the back of Justin's knee, his hamstring a little better within his reach now.

"Where are you going?" asks Justin teasingly, not minding where they're at right now. It's kind of fun, really. Maybe worth not getting himself off again tonight. He sighs, part in resignation and part in contentment. "C?" he says, getting JC's full attention. "Just get in the damn bed already, before I change my mind."

"What?" JC picks his head up again, blinking at the dark shape at the head of the bed, pulling his hand away. "I ... thought there was still some *stuff*, or whatever, you wanted to think about, before we ...?" He wishes his damn brain was functioning well enough to remember whatever it was he did to change Justin's mood for the better so rapidly and ... easily.

"GOD, JC," groans Justin. "To SLEEP. I don't feel like walking you back to your damn room, and since I'm not all uptight about YOU touching me, you can stay. And do whatever. Talk? Touch? Unless you don't want to ... "

JC doesn't respond, just scrambles up the length of the bed and settles in behind Justin. Cursing the fact that he bothered to put his clothes back on after his shower with all his concentration, he rests one arm on the pillow above their heads and lets his other hand linger on the bare skin at Justin's waist. "Is this too much," he asks throatily, his mouth behind the other man's ear -- careful not to let his lips make any contact, conscientious of avoiding pressing up against his body.

"Not ... yet ... " says Justin, goosebumps covering his body suddenly. "Why did you go to Joey, tonight?"

"Justin," JC starts, staring at the back of Justin's neck and wondering if kissing him there would be such a bad idea after all, "Do you really want to talk about that?"

"Yeah," says Justin. "I do. We're equal now. We're BOTH fucking vulnerable. So spill."

JC frowns a little. "I already said I was sorry; I wasn't really thinking about how it might affect you."

"I didn't ask if you were sorry," says Justin, wiggling back against him a little. Surprised by how nice and warm it feels. How un-intrusive. "I asked why."

Letting his hand slip further down Justin's hip when he scoots closer, JC considers the question. It wasn't ever something he asked WHY about. "Because..." he says slowly, "it feels good. And he asked me to. And I hadn't gotten laid in a while. So." He steels himself for Justin's reaction.

"So ... it was just about you needing to get laid. Right then. And not being able to wait for me." Justin sounds thoughtful. "Why are you at his beck and call? Why doesn't he ask LANCE for sex, for fuck's sake?"

JC shrugs against Justin's back, and tries to keep his voice steady and low. "I don't worry about Lance; maybe he LIKES sleeping with me. We're good in bed together. And I'm NOT at his beck and call, either; it's not like that." He doesn't even really catch that he's still talking about their relationship in the present tense.

"Wasn't," says Justin, his entire response that single word.

"What?" JC asks distractedly, finally deciding that he was gonna go for it, and licks along Justin's neck lightly.

Justin shivers. "It WASN'T like that," he says, his voice crisp. "I thought you weren't sleeping with him anymore."

"Oh, right, WASN'T," JC repeats. "Yeah. I'm not. Can we stop talking about him now?"

"Sure," says Justin. "I guess so." Suddenly, he isn't sure he trusts JC anymore. It's an awkward, queasy feeling, and he's not sure he wants to be touched anymore, either.

"Okay, then," JC breathes, letting his tongue linger at the skin underneath Justin's ear, holding him a little tighter. "You taste good."

"I wash," says Justin. "You smell okay." He squirms a bit uncomfortably, but doesn't make JC let him go.

"Thanks," he says, draping more of his arm over Justin's hip, and letting his lips close over his earlobe. "Really, really good."

"Slow down," says Justin softly. "Tell me again this is just about us."

JC moves back, rebuked, pulling his arm in between their bodies and resting his chin on Justin's shoulder instead. "I don't think I've stopped thinking about you all night," he says, wondering if that's the kind of line Justin wants to hear.

"Did you close your eyes when you were with him? Did you picture me, JC?"

Pausing, trying to remember if that's what he did, JC nuzzles Justin's shoulder softly. "I was remembering the way you kissed me."

"And how was that?" asks Justin. "Tell me how that was."

"You kissing me?" JC asks. "It totally took me by surprise. It was so different, and so raw, and just ... honest. Liek it wasn't a preamble to anything. I could die happy if that's the only way I'll ever be kissed, the rest of my life."

"By me?" asks Justin softly. "Or by anyone?"

JC wraps his arms around Justin again. "Well, if it was by just anyone, it wouldn't be the same, would it?"

"Right answer," whispers Justin, and rolls over to face him. Then he smiles. "You're okay, JC."

Returning the smile, JC nevertheless doesn't move any closer to kiss him. "You're not so great for the ego, Justin."

Justin still smiles. "You understand me, though, right?"

JC snuggles a little deeper into his pillow. "I don't know. I kinda feel like I'm just barely passing all these tests, or whatever. And 'okay' isn't exavtly a ringing endorsement."

"It is, from me," says Justin honestly. "My world, it's divided up into 'okay' and 'not okay'. You know?"

"Okay," JC says, and smiles cheekily. "Thanks for trusting me enough to let me stay here, Justin."

"Yeah, well, if it goes well, maybe we'll do it again," he promises, then leans forward and kisses him again. "This kissing stuff," he whispers against JC's lips. "I like it."

"You're supposed to," JC whispers back, closing his eyes and sucking gently on Justin's bottom lip. "Plus you're good at it."

"I try," says Justin, kissing JC's throat tentatively.

"Fuck," JC hisses softly, leaning back to expose more of his neck to Justin. "Is it fair that you can do this, but you're telling me to slow down?" His tone is light, but the question is a serious one.

Justin backs off. "I was just ... never mind. Sorry."

"No, hey," JC says quietly, resting a hand on Justin's chest but not pushing. "You can. I can handle it. I'm just a little jealous, is all."

"How about," says Justin, kissing the point of his chin, "anything I do to you, you can do back to me? Is that fair?" JC arches an eyebrow. "We'll have to see. Right now, I'm inclined to say yes, but I could see us getting stuck at the you doing me part." He winks, then, and kisses Justin's closed lips lightly. "Lemme see what you have in mind."

"Kisses," whispers Justin. "Everywhere?"

"I said, let me SEE," JC repeats with another quick kiss, before rolling onto his back and looking up at Justin expectantly.

Justin is suddenly unsure of himself. He's SEEN this a thousand times, on tv and in his head, but he's never taken it anywhere, with anyone. He kisses JC's throat again, pressing his lips to the warm flesh, darting out with his tongue.

"Mmm," JC moans softly, closing his eyes. He's still a little drunk, and his head is spinning both from that and the tentative, bashful way that Justin is sucking on his neck. He arches his back a little before settling back into the mattress.

"You COULD help me out a little," says Justin, pressing his cheek to JC's chest.

"You're doing ... fine," JC bites out, reaching a hand up to bury in Justin's curls. "Plus, you were the one all concerned about this being fair."

Justin pushes himself up on one elbow, away from JC's chest. "Look." he says. "I don't know shit about what I'm doing here. It's new enough that I'm being touched. Touching. Maybe we should leave it at that, for tonight ... "

"Nooo," JC says, pulling Justin back down to his body, but not so strongly that the other man couldn't resist if he wanted to. "You promised me kisses, everywhere. Just ... do what feels natural, huh? Or ... stuff you've thought about doing to me? We won't do anything else tonight, I promise."

Justin sighs softly. "I'm not sure I'm comfortable," he says, but he does begin kissing JC's neck again. His shoulders. His chest.

"Why not?" JC practically purrs, rubbing his hands along the back of Justin's neck. "I want you to enjoy this, to enjoy ME ..."

"Wait. Stop," says Justin. "This isn't cool, JC."

JC sighs. "What. What did I do, this time? My lips weren't anywhere near you, my hands were above the waist..."

"I'm not comfortable," says Justin. "I'm not ready. I'm fucking sorry."

"Hey, it's okay," JC shrugs, yawning and scooting over a little to let Justin lay down beside him. "I said I'd wait; I meant it. You still okay with me sleeping here, or do you want me to go?"

"Stay," says Justin, certain about THAT, at least. "Hold me a little, maybe?"

"Of course," JC says, lifting his arm so Justin can snuggle next to his body. He bites his lip and tries to pretend he isn't totally turned on when he feels the heat and weight from Justin's torso against his own.

Justin likes the feel of JC's body pressed up against his, but he isn't ready to say so. It's enough that he's turned on and JC's turned on and they both know it. And tonight, they're both bound to have DAMN good dreams.

JC is staring up at the ceiling, wondering if he'll ever have feeling in his arm again, wondering how much longer he'll have to lay there. He's been awake for almost three hours -- he knows, because he's been checking the alarm clock on the bedside table every ten minutes -- but hasn't dared move. Justin is still dead asleep, draped halfway across his body, breathing deeply. So even though JC has a fucker of a headache, and wants a drink so badly he's practically drooling, he stays still. He feels like this might be another one of Justin's tests -- the ones he's never quite aware of until it's time to grade his performance -- and he doesn't want a repeat of last night. Well ... the part where he almost lost his chance to be with Justin, at least.

Justin drifts in and out of consciousness, mostly aware of being warm and comfortable in a way he isn't quite familiar with. It's not something he wants to fully wake up for to investigate, though, so he just lets it be and nuzzles in closer to JC's body. A few minutes later, though, he becomes undeniably aware, on some level, of the light beginning to stream in through the window.

*Fucking FINALLY*, JC thinks to himself as Justin begins to stir. He lifts his hand and starts smoothing it over Justin's curls, hoping that will be an innocuous enough method of waking him the rest of the way up.

Justin blinks his eyes open, frowns as he realizes he isn't alone, then smiles when he remembers that's exactly the way it's supposed to be. "Morning," he says softly, reaching out to touch JC's side. They're a lot more entwined now than they had been when they'd fallen asleep, but it's a good feeling, not an awkward one.

"Morning," JC replies a little raspily, lifting his chin slightly to brush a soft kiss on the top of Justin's head. "How'd you sleep, Justin?" He shifts his hips a little, trying not to make the evidence of his morning arousal -- where had THAT come from??? -- any more apparent to the other man than he was sure it already was.

"Well, I think," says Justin, not wanting to move out of JC's arms, not caring at the moment -- his mind still slow with drowsiness -- that it might lead to other things. "How long have you been awake?"

JC makes a non-committal noise and squeezes Justin briefly. "I gotta get up, here, in a second, though," he says, surprised that Justin hasn't moved away yet, torn between wishing he would and hoping he wouldn't. "Um ... what're you doing, today?"

"Meeting my mother for lunch," he says, yawning. "Taking it easy. That's about it. You're coming back, right?"

"Um?" JC asks, tugging on a curl. "Coming back? You mean, like ... tonight? Yeah, actually, I was wondering ..." "Um, I meant after you got up. I thought you needed to pee or something," says Justin, his eyes starting to close again, his fingers curling unconsciously in the waistband of JC's boxers. "What's this about tonight, though ... ?"

"Oh!" JC thinks about that for a second, trying to weigh whether he has enough time to do a shot or two under the auspices of using the bathroom, and whether Justin will be able to tell if he brushes his teeth afterwards. "Did you want me to? I just thought ... I dunno." He feels Justin's hand against the skin on his hip and figures maybe coming back wouldn't be a bad idea. And if nothing happens this morning ... "I just thought we could do dinner again tonight. For real this time? I could ... maybe cook something, if you wanted?"

Justin grins at him. "Dinner would be great," he says. "Show you I'm not as easy as I look. You need to wine me and dine me a little." He hopes JC gets the joke, doesn't think he's just teasing. "And yeah ... you coming back would be good. If you don't have somewhere better to be."

"When do *I* get wined and dined?" JC pouts jokingly. He rubs Justin's back briefly. "Okay, hop up. I'll be back in a couple minutes." He winces when he moves his head too quickly.

"YOU don't NEED to be convinced to sleep with me," teases Justin back. "And you know damn well you don't want me to cook. It scares you. I burn things." He watches JC's blurry figure head for the door and flops back on the bed, pulling the covers up to his neck and trying not to drift off again. It would be easy; he's pretty content in his little idyll and sleeping would prolong that for him. Prevent him from being slapped in the face by reality.

JC rolls his eyes as he shuts the door behind him and heads straight for the bar. He knows Justin is just playing around, but there's an underlying level of truth to everything they're saying that's rubbing JC the wrong way -- he's really NOT used to having to work for, or even *ask* for, sex ... and if Justin keeps acting like he's doing him some huge fucking favor, he's not sure he'll be able to keep what he thinks about that to himself. Picking up the vodka bottle, he tilts his head back and takes several swallows before capping it, putting it away, and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. The best hangover remedy he's found yet.

Walking quickly down the hall, wondering how long he's been gone already, JC slips in the bathroom and roots around in the cabinet for the Listerine. He swishes it around in his mouth for a minute, then even swallows some of it to really make sure he's masking the smell of the alcohol. Washing his hands, he grimaces at his bloodshot eyes in the mirror, and then shuts off the bathroom light on his way out.

Justin wraps his arms around the pillow as he waits, wondering only idly what's going to happen now. The biggest hurdle, actually ACCEPTING the whole mess that comes with sleeping with someone, is already passed. More or less. He thinks.

"Hey." JC smiles gently when he comes back into the room and looks at Justin questioningly before crawling back under the covers. "Miss me?"

"Yeah," mumbles Justin, curling in closer to him again. JC's body is cool now, but he resists the urge to jerk away and instead tangles his feet with JC's to try and warm him up. He yawns again, his eyes still closed. "Where you go?"

JC raises his eyebrows at how touchy-feely and affectionate Justin is being, and figures he's just not quite awake yet. He slides his arms under the covers and lets one hand cup the back of Justin's knee, pulling that leg up a little. "Hmmm? I just went to the bathroom, Just. You goin' back to sleep on me?"

"Mm-hm," says Justin sleepily, resting his lips against JC's throat. "It's eeeearly, C. Isn't it?" He hooks his leg around JC's leg and his arm around his waist. He's not really thinking much about where he's taking things, just trying to make himself comfortable with JC there.

"Not really, baby boy," JC chuckles, letting his hand slide up the back of Justin's hamstring and playing with the hem of his boxers, closing his eyes when he feels Justin's mouth on his neck again. "Maybe I should let you get some rest, though ... ?"

"Stay," murmurs Justin, clutching him tighter, closer. His lips move up to capture JC's. The taste of listerine in his mouth, though, is a rude awakening. Justin pulls away for a moment, squeezes his eyes shut, forces himself to deal with this. He knows -- has ALWAYS known -- that JC only uses mouthwash to hide the smell of alcohol. It's as much a giveaway as tasting vodka on his tongue. But, Justin reminds himself, he KNEW what he was getting into here. He KNEW what JC was like. And this isn't going to be a reason for him to back out. Not now, not when he's already made his decision. The complications he'd been trying to avoid are already THERE, and he may as well GET something out of the deal. Steeling himself, he moves in and kisses him again.

JC moans a little into Justin's mouth, but isn't quite able to abandon himself to the kiss due to the fact that he's worried about Justin tasting the vodka. But as soon as he feels Justin's tongue tentatively probing at his lips, he loses that inhibition, and lets his hands drift up to cup the other man's face. He can feel the alcohol in his veins, filling him with a renewed passion for the man in his arms, helping him forget his earlier annoyance.

Justin kisses him until his lungs scream for breath, then backs away for a moment, panting a little. His hand touches the small of JC's back, feels the soft skin there, and suddenly just wants to EXPLORE him. Wants to see and touch and smell every part of another person's body. Of JC's body. Wants to know the differences and similarities between himself and another human being. Wants to touch and lick the places on JC that he KNOWS would feel good on him. Wants to know, for real, the feel of another person's mouth on his body. He begins kissing JC's face, then his neck.

JC moans again, tilting his head back as Justin presses his lips against his throat, turning slightly to encourage him to move up toward his ear. His hand slides further up underneath the leg of Justin's underwear, and he fights the impulse to grab him and pull him on top of his body. Being kissed by Justin is a headier experience than he ever thought it might be, and he has to keep reminding himself that he can't be too aggressive.

Justin licks the skin behind JC's ear, then sucks lightly on the earlobe, flicking at it with his tongue. His hand traces around JC's back, coming to rest on his hip, still covered by his boxers. For the first time, he's wishing they were both naked. He avoids JC's lips as he kisses, not wanting to be reminded of the alcohol. He's managed to convince himself it's NOT the only reason JC is here with him, and doesn't want to have to go through that whole reasoning process with himself again.

Shuddering a bit when Justin nips at his ear, JC wrenches away and starts mouthing Justin's neck and collarbone instead. He's definitely used to not being the one in control, but when he's not, things generally tend to go a lot faster than they're going now and he doesn't know how long his patience will hold out. However, unlike last night, Justin doesn't seem to be as uncomfortable with doing a lot of the kissing -- he might surprise JC, yet. And since a little nudge in the right direction never hurt anything ... JC lets his fingers trail around to the front of Justin's leg, still just underneath the hem of his underwear.

Justin shivers a bit as JC gets closer and closer to his erection. He reflexively starts to stop him, but forces himself to still, reminding himself he doesn't WANT JC to stop. He forces JC's head up and kisses along his jaw, then whispers "Should we talk about what we're doing? What's the proper make-out etiquette?" His hand slides under JC's boxers, pausing just at the top of the curve of his ass.

"Depends on what you mean by 'talk'," JC groans, bucking backwards slightly into Justin's hand. "Do you mean, like: 'is this okay? can I do this to you?' ... that type of thing? Or were you thinking more along the lines of: 'I'm gonna kiss you and rub you and suck you 'cause you make me so hot I can't stand it'?"

"Um, both?" says Justin, licking his collarbone. "More like, "This isn't going to be sex but I think it's going to be fun anyway and I'd really like to see your body, now," really." He slides his hand down a little further to cup JC's cheek and begins nuzzling his chest, the blankets beginning to fall aside.

"Oh, yeah," JC breathes, his head falling back against the pillow again. "We should definitely talk like that, yeah." He grabs the back of Justin's neck with his free hand and squeezes there gently, before letting it fall away to rub lazily along his own chest. He slides his other hand out of Justin's boxers, tugging teasingly on the leg as he does, but not really ready to act on the implication that they should get naked, just yet.

"I won't stop you," whispers Justin into his chest, right before tentatively taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking at it gently. He hopes that feels good. He knows he likes it when he wets his fingers and pinches his own nipples, and this is KINDA the same. His hand begins kneading JC's flesh a little, firmly grabbing hold, and frees his other hand from between their bodies to run his fingers through JC's hair. JC can't help but gasp slightly when he feels Justin's lips close around his nipple. Every little thing he does, even if it's something that JC has felt a thousand times, is just that much hotter because he *knows* Justin hasn't done it before. Working with the rule Justin had given him last night -- whatever he does to JC, JC can do too -- JC lets his hand drift over Justin's chest, circling one of his nipples with the pad of his thumb, watching with satisfaction as it becomes almost immediately erect. He pulls on Justin's underwear a little more forcefully, but nowhere near enough to remove them; even if Justin says he won't stop him, he realizes that he won't be as comfortable if he's the first one naked.

"Oh!" sighs Justin, his lips falling away from JC's body for a moment. Even familiar sensation is magnified, when it's JC doing it, and the result is electric. He feels a shiver in the base if his skull that works its way down his spine, and he arches his back into JC's touch. His hand, somewhat brazenly, moves from JC's ass to the front of his hip, but doesn't go any further though his fingers tease the skin there. A moment later, he brings his lips back down to lick and suck at JC's other nipple.

JC smiles to himself at Justin's breathy exclamation, and figures he'll give him a couple more minutes of administering to his chest before he returns the favor in kind and with single-minded determination. In the meantime ... stretching one arm above his head, he can't help twisting his hips toward Justin's hand -- his erection begging for even the briefest contact.

Justin's wrist brushes against JC's erection and he pulls away in shock for a moment, then returns to his position on JC's hip with determination. "You're bad," he whispers against JC's chest as he moves further down again, running his tongue over his stomach muscles, dipping and swirling it in JC's navel before moving back upwards again. His hand that had been tangled in JC's hair is now tracing lines down his arm, from shoulder to wrist and back again.

JC hisses at the all-too-short touch on his cock, and then draws a shaky breath when he feels Justin's hot tongue low on his torso. He even whimpers slightly when Justin's mouth starts moving in what he considers to be the wrong direction. Finally, JC decides he'll be sensitive tonight, when this might actually *go* somewhere. But right now -- with a slight buzz going and the understanding that what they're doing now wouldn't turn into sex -- he has no compunction about reaching down and touching himself with his other hand, if Justin wasn't going to do it. Not willing to make this all too easy on the other man, either, he starts rolling down the waistband of Justin's boxers.

"JC, what ... ?" whispers Justin, then just sighs contentedly. JC's hand is right next to his, now, and he takes a deep breath, then wraps his hand around JC's. He's not directly touching JC's cock, but he may as well be, matching JC's own slow motions. He's back up to JC's nipples with his mouth now, swirling his tongue around them then blowing cool across across them so they form tight peaks. He's stopped thinking about what they're doing, knows if he starts THINKING about it, he might not be doing it at all.

"Nothing," JC growls softly, hooking his thumb in the back of the waistband of Justin's underwear and sliding it down over the muscular curve of his ass, letting the heel of his hand and his wrist brush over one of his cheeks as he does so. Slowly, he moves his other hand off his cock, guiding Justin's to replace it. Once he's sure Justin won't let go, he slides his free fingers into Justin's curls and tugs gently, making him pull his mouth off JC's nipples and make eye contact with him for the first time in several minutes. "That's about enough of that, I think," he says even more quietly, and starts rolling the other man beneath him on the bed.

"Oh God," breathes Justin, for the first time feeling JC's warm, hard cock in his hand. And it's precisely nothing at all like touching himself. He almost doesn't know what to do for a moment, then instinct takes over and he begins stroking it smoothly. He feels JC starting to remove his boxers and there's a brief flash in his brain reminding him that they're DEFINITELY going places he's never been before, but it passes quickly. His lips still want something to touch, and he leans up towards JC's to kiss him again.

JC has to shut his eyes tightly when Justin's hand starts moving on his cock with more confidence than he would've expected, but he still smiles wryly and ducks his head to avoid Justin's kiss -- preferring to begin his own exploration of the other man's neck and chest with *his* mouth. He licks along Justin's jaw delicately, bracing himself above him with one hand while the other pulls Justin's underwear the rest of the way down his legs and places them gently on the bed beside him. Just in case.

Justin` stills for a moment, reminds himself he HAS been naked with someone before. Even if it had only been a night ago. He's very hard, and now JC knows it ... if he didn't already. Which was unlikely, really, when he lets himself think about it. A moment later, he starts stroking again, looking down to watch himself do it. His heart is racing, but he doesn't want to stop.

JC doesn't notice the fact that Justin is focusing so much on touching him; his eyes are still closed as he lets his tongue trail along Justin's throat, lapping at the hollow of his neck. He shifts his weight so that's he's still balanced on his hands and knees above him, but slides one leg into the area between Justin's slightly spread thighs.

"This is weird," whispers Justin, his legs parting a little bit more. "More." He tries to kiss JC again, but he's wily, so all he can do is continue to stroke him. He does, perversely, slow down.

"More what, Justin," JC asks, resting back on his haunches a little more so he's hovering above one of Justin's nipples. He frowns a little when it seems like Justin might stop touching him, but that disappears as soon as Justin bends a little at the waist so he doesn't break contact.

"Whatever," breathes Justin. "Just ... keep going. Don't give me time to think, C ... "

JC doesn't stop -- thrusting slightly into Justin's hand, breathing on one nipple, letting his fingers tease at the other -- but he certainly doesn't make a move to get any closer to Justin. "Hey, now," he whispers softly, "that doesn't sound too good ..."

"It's fine," whispers Justin, running his thumb over the head of JC's erection, smearing fluid over it. "Just ... don't. It's better this way." He arches his back, trying to get JC's lips to touch him.

"Ah, shit..." JC's chin drops to his own chest when he feels Justin's now-slick fingers rub over the tip of his cock. He nudges Justin back down onto the bed with a palm on his chest, and takes a couple deep breaths. Once his heartbeat slows down some, he opens his eyes and stares for a minute at Justin's flushed face. "I *want* you to think. I *want* your head to be totally filled with all of the things you want me to do to your body ..."

"If I think," says Justin, licking his lips, staring at him, "I might freak. Don't let me freak. This is good." His words are clear; he's focusing all his energy on forming them. Even his hand has stilled on JC's body again.

"You won't freak," JC assures Justin, bending over to lick a nipple lightly, not taking his eyes off him. "You're okay. You're safe, and you're making me feel incredible ..." -- he thrusts into Justin's hand again, a little more vigorously -- "...and I'm gonna take care of you, okay? You're not gonna freak."

Justin` nods. "I trust you," is the last thing he says before he closes his eyes again, starts stroking JC's cock with renewed enthusiasm.

JC is taken a little aback by that, but doesn't let himself get distracted by it either. Slowly, *very* gently, he pulls Justin's hand off his erection, presses it into the sheets beside them, and lowers his body on top of Justin's.

Justin` 's eyes fly open. "Okay ... talk to me here ... "

"Shh," JC says soothingly, still tonguing Justin's nipple, running his free hand reassuringly down Justin's thigh that's pressed against his hip. "You're okay. I'm not doing anything; I just want to be close to you, feel your body."

"I'm being ridiculous," mutters Justin. "Me and my stupid virginity. I can't believe you're still turned on by me." He rolls his head to the side, but can't help sighing softly at the tingly sensations rushing through his body.

"Well, believe it," JC says throatily, thrusting his cock against Justin's leg before sliding up his body to kiss Justin's lips tenderly. He fumbles for Justin's other hand and pins it to the bed as well.

Justin` watches him warily, but he HAS to trust him. If he doesn't, then what the fuck is he doing here?

SLiding over slightly, JC sighs when his cock brushes up against Justin's erection. "Justin ..." he mutters, licking his lips, "c'mon. Stop staring at me and kiss me."

Justin` is pretty confortable with the whole kissing thing at this point, and gives in to that quite easily.

Teasing Justin's lips with his own, JC smiles and repositions his hands on Justin's wrists so he can rest more of his weight on them. Then, as he slides his tongue deep into Justin's mouth, he begins thrusting against him -- rubbing their cocks together, skin tugging against skin.

"Oh my God," Justin tries to say, but the words are lost in JC's mouth and all he can do is thrust back.

JC grips Justin's hands tighter and pulls his mouth away, only to attack Justin's ear. "Tell me," he breathes. "Tell me what you want me to do to you, Justin, otherwise I'm just gonna keep doing this until I come all over both of us..."

"I don't KNOW," whimpers Justin. "God, JC, I don't KNOW!"

"You do," JC disagrees, rolling his hips slowly, licking down Justin's throat. "Yes, you do. I know you've gotten yourself off thinking about this. So. Tell. Me."

"Mouth," admits Justin, rolling his head away, having a hard time facing him right now. He feels too .... exposed.

JC chuckles, but punctuates it with another thrust so Justin doesn't feel like he's making fun of him. "Pardon?"

"I fantasize about your mouth on me, all right?" says Justin, a little loude, still not looking at himr. "I don't know what that's like ... "

Reluctantly letting go of one of Justin's hands, JC grabs his chin and kisses him deeply. "Tell me where."

Justin` actually blushes. "God. JC. Do you have to ASK?"

"No," JC admits, leisurely but suggestively sucking on Justin's lower lip. "But you have to answer."

Justin` closes his eyes. "Why?" he asks quietly. "Why are you making this so hard?"

"Believe me, baby boy, I'm not," JC mutters, moving to Justin's upper lip, licking just along the inside. "I just want to make sure you're ready, that you're not gonna stop me in the middle of something again ..."

Justin` sighs. "Okay. That was fair. But ... " He shifts a little bit. "I though I told you not to let me think."

"You don't have to think," insists JC, not letting Justin slide out from underneath him. "Just tell me what you're picturing when you close your eyes."

Justin` licks his lips, tries to relax a little. "I ... picture me touching you, playing with your hair, touching your shoulders and your chest. And you ... you're going down on me. And it's warm and wet, I think, and incredible ... "

JC cuts him off with another deep kiss, then lets go of Justin's other wrist and rests both of his hands on his hips. "It's gonna feel even better than that, Justin," he murmurs. "Tell me to do it."

"JC, I don't ... " He opens his eyes, tries to look at him. "You want me to say I want it, don't you."

"No," JC says patiently, even as he speeds up his thrusts a little. "I *need* you to say you won't resent me for it."

Justin` gasps. "JC," he says, his voice breathy. "I DEFINITELY won't resent you for going down on me right now."

"You want me to suck you?" JC asks slowly, trailing a finger down Justin's body, as close to his groin as he can get while still laying on top of him. "You want me to put my mouth on your dick and tongue you until you come?" He *is* teasing, somewhat; but he also honestly feels like he needs Justin to give him permission.

"Yes!" shouts Justin hoarsely. "Jesus, JC, can you NOT talk me out of this?"

"Save some of that for later," JC reprimands him, before sliding down between Justin's legs, holding his hips still with his hands.

Justin` starts hyperventillating a little, closing his eyes again. "Oh God," he whispers.

Resting his knees on the bed, JC pulls back slightly and takes a second to just look at Justin. His eyes are shut tightly, his mouth open, chest heaving ...the rest of his body has a fine sheen of sweat ... and his cock is swollen, dripping, red; almost completely resting against his stomach. JC has never wanted to taste something as bad in his life.

"This is ... almost too much ... " whispers Justin, reaching for JC's hair. "But pleased don't stop now ... "

It *was* almost too much, and *now* JC was feeling the pressure of having to live up to Justin's expectations, and *damn* but he wanted to go grab another shot or three before he did this. He rubs Justin's hip bones lightly with his thumbs and ducks his head to press his lips softly against the inside of one of his thighs, carefully avoiding any contact with his erection just yet.

Justin's brain starts a running inventory of the sensations he's experiencing: warm, soft hands against his hips, firm, controlling, lips, wet against his thigh, breath across the hairs of his leg, evidence of another living human being, weight against his body, his legs, pinning him to the bed, the feel of his fingers through hair, naturally soft, his erection, hot, wet, straining against his body. And he knows there are more to come, more things he'd never felt, more sensations he needed to classify, to experience. He breathes out heavily and tries to lift one knee, brushing it against JC's body.

When Justin starts squirming, JC realizes he can't put this off forever. He reaches out with a finger to touch at the tip of Justin's cock, swirling the moisture that's gathered there gently down the head. Then he pulls his hand back, bringing it to his mouth, touching the wetness on his finger to his lips. He closes his eyes and sighs a little, savoring the salty taste; his appetite whetted for more.

"Oh, JC," mumbles Justin, never forgetting for a moment just who he's with. He wouldn't BE in this position for anyone else, but for JC he's weak. He's a pushover. He moans softly and arches up towards JC's mouth, eagerly, wanting more than just the touch of his finger. Though that itself...that...the first time he's been touched there by anyone other than himself... He's not going to be disappointed by this, that's for damn sure.

JC can't help but smile when he hears Justin saying his name, and he squeezes his hip gently in return. He touches the head of Justin's cock again, running his finger around the rim, tracing slowly down its length -- then bends over and follows the same path with the tip of his tongue. Then, moving back up his erection, he laps a little more forcefully, covering more of the surface with each lick. The restraint he's demonstrating, holding back from taking all of it in his mouth at once, both surprises and pleases him -- but it won't last long.

It was impossible to imagine what this would be like. Much as Justin touched himself with tight, wet hands, much as he stroked himself with saliva-coated fingers, it wasn't THIS. It wasn't even CLOSE to being this, this electric feeling that set off fireworks up his spine. He'd thought JC's mouth was amazing on the REST of his body; now it's just unbelievable. He lets out another moan, louder, longer, and suddenly feeling VERY not in control.

Justin's reaction is *another* surprise for JC. It's impossible for him to remember what *his* first blowjob had felt like, the first time *he* felt someone's mouth on his dick ... he doesn't recall whether it made him moan like that, just to have a tongue touch him *there*. He pulls his mouth away again, biting the inside of his cheek -- all the teasing he had wanted to do, all of the abbreviated strokes and haphazard suction, suddenly seem like they might be more torturous than fun for the man beneath him. "You taste good here, too," he finally says, even as he closes his lips around the head of Justin's cock.

"Thank you," says Justin softly, thanking him for a thousand things at once. His breath hitches as JC's mouth closes over his erection, and his fingers tighten in JC's hair. He's falling, fast and hard, and there's no stopping it now. "Take care of me," he whispers before he completely abandons himself to the sensations.

JC closes his eyes and begins swirling his tongue around Justin's cock, sliding even more of its length into his mouth as he does. His fingers start inching their way across Justin's hips to his groin, too, tracing along the edge of the patch of kinky hair there. He had thought he would use them, too -- to grasp Justin's balls, to tease at his hole, to slide inside his ass -- but somehow it seems like it would make it less ... pure if he did. Like this needs to be completely and totally about the sensations Justin can feel when someone ... *worships* ... his cock with their mouth. Which is definitely what JC is doing.

Justin's vocabulary is reduced to a series of nonsensical sounds, and he hardly knows what to do with himself. Both his hands are tangled in JC's hair now because he doesn't know where else to put them. He can't control this, can't control where this is going now, and that scares the hell out of him, makes his head race and his head spin. Because he's ALWAYS been in control before. And that loss is almost as heady as the blowjob itself.

Eventually JC wraps the fingers of one hand around the base of Justin's erection, squeezing tenderly. He uses the other to lift Justin's hips off the bed, encouraging him to thrust slowly into his mouth. He wants to make sure Justin isn't scared to move: even the hands he has buried in JC's hair are almost too gentle when they tug. Sucking in earnest, now, he can't keep from moaning deeply when he tastes even more of the fluid still leaking from Justin's cock.

Justin feels almost frozen in place now, not sure of ANYthing anymore, not sure of what to do or say or even FEEL. His hips roll a bit, almost independent of the rest of his body, and he clutches at JC, wanting to feel SAFE. Wanting to know that he can LET him have control without being afraid. JC had been right, in a way, about sex. There was just no matching this intensity when you're doing yourself. Not to mention the VASTLY underrated sensation of feeling someone else's mouth on you.

JC cups one side of Justin's ass in his palm, still pulling him toward his mouth, and starts to jerk slowly with his other hand. The motion is smooth, aided by saliva and sweat and pre-cum; JC fists him tighter on the upstroke to meet his lips, then relaxes a bit as he slides back down the length. He toys with the idea of taking Justin's cock deep in his throat, but concerns that it might trigger his sensitive gag reflex -- plus the fact that it would surely be overkill, for his first time -- deter him. Instead, he simply licks and sucks and tugs passionately and persistently, happy to do this for as long as it takes.

"Oh, JC ... " Justin says again, louder, almost a cry as he finally thrusts a little bit into JC's mouth. He's never come with another person before, let alone had someone else MAKE him come, and he's not even sure he can let go that last little bit, surrender that last part of him to let the orgasm come. But then he opens his eyes, looks down and sees JC's blurry outline focusing so intently on HIM, and he knows it's going to happen. Knows he's going to lose himself entirely. Soon.

Taking advantage of Justin lifting his hips, finally, JC holds him off the bed and takes as much of him in his mouth as he can -- feeling the tip bump against the back of his throat. He pulls off almost completely, then, before descending again and starting to pull on his cock more desperately. Feeling Justin thrust, that first hint of knowing what it will feel like to have him truly fuck his mouth, makes JC want to do everything he can to encourage him -- to make sure Justin knows he's enjoying this as much as he is.

Justin wants to feel that again, the feeling of touching the back of JC's throat. It hit him like a single pure note, breaking up a symphony, and he wants that clarity again. Carefully he pushes himself upwards, inwards, almost afraid that JC is going to break if he goes to far or too fast. He grabs at the base of JC's skull, clutching it like his link to the real world, and closes his eyes again.

JC would smile if he could, feeling Justin grasp hold of him and thrust again, if still tentatively ... he watches him closely as he opens his jaw wider, letting Justin slide his cock in deep, pressing against his tongue. As soon as he feels that contact at his throat, again, he closes his lips tightly and starts sucking and moaning for all he's worth. He wants to hear Justin screaming, and feel him pulsing, and taste him coming.

"Oh, God," gasps Justin, his fingers tightening, opening his eyes to WATCH this. "Oh, God, JC!" He feels himself tightening as JC lavishes attention on his cock, licking and sucking at it with a singlemindedness Justin only dreamed of. "Oh, fuck ... " He doesn't want this to end, but suddenly he's COMING, explosively, in JC's mouth and throat. "Fuck!" he shouts struggling for breath. "JC!"

JC pulls back just enough to catch Justin's cum on his tongue, savoring the first spurt like a man dying of thirst. He swallows it, then, and continues sucking, milking every last drop from his spasming cock. His eyes fall shut as he tries to breathe. Even hearing Justin's exclamations, his name screamed from his lips, JC doesn't want to look up and risk seeing *any* disappointment on his face.

Justin can only ride it out, is almost a bystander at this point, unable to change the outcome. The feeling is just amazing, and he can't get enough of it. His fingers loosen on JC's neck and drift idly through his hair as he comes back down from his high. "I didn't know," he whispers and is shocked to find tears wetting his cheeks. He hastily tries to scrub them away before JC notices, calls him a pussy or something. But even that bitter thought can't take away from what just happened between them.

Reluctantly letting Justin's still-hard cock slip from his mouth, JC kisses the tip softly before pulling back and planting more kisses on his thighs, his hips. Justin didn't speak loud enough for him to know whether that comment was made in pleasure or in dissatisfaction, and he still can't bring himself to look at Justin's expression. He runs his fingers over the skin covered by his lips, tracing over Justin's stomach and heaving ribs.

Justin tugs on JC's hair a bit, after a moment. "Come here," he says softly, giving up on the tears that are still leaking from his eyes. After the most vulnerable moment of his life, he needs something now, needs to be held, or kissed, or SOMETHING. Something to make him feel more secure about this whole thing. Feel like he's being taken care of, that's it okay that he let go like that. And that he doesn't HAVE to take care of himself, for once. It's something that he feared would happen to him, but now that it has, it doesn't seem quite so terrifying anymore.

JC slides up next to Justin immediately, wrapping his arms around the other man, hugging him closely but angling his hips so that he doesn't rub his own persistent erection against his body. He still hasn't opened his eyes as he fumbles blindly beside him, nuzzling Justin's ear with his nose. He can't put a voice to his fears, either, so he just sighs ... hoping that, if the blowjob wasn't what he had hoped, that at least his attempts at comforting won't be such a letdown.

"Oh my God," whispers Justin in his ear, wrapping his arms around him unselfconsciously and holding him close. "I never even DREAMED it would be that good. That MIND-blowing. You did things to my body that I didn't even know could be DONE ... " He realizes he's babbling and shuts up, closing his lips around JC's earlobe and sucking lightly, remembering that JC had seemed to appreciate that earlier.

JC shudders slightly, both from Justin's mouth on his ear, and from the reassurances that he didn't even realize he needed to hear so badly. He opens his eyes, ready to tell Justin that he made it easy, but gasps instead when he sees the tears drying on Justin's cheeks. "Hey ... hey," he whispers, smoothing his curls off his forehead, "it's okay ... you're okay ... just relax, Justin."

Justin laughs a bit. "Relaxing is NOT something that's coming easily right now," he says, his hand running up and down JC's back restlessly. He uses the other hand to scrub at his tear-streaked cheeks again. "Just nevermind this," he mutters, looking away for a moment. He finds himself wondering how HE did, experiencing performance anxiety for the first time, really. And he hasn't even made JC come yet. Hasn't even really THOUGHT about doing that, or HOW he's going to do that, at this point.

"No, hey," JC says, grabbing Justin's hand away from his face. "Are you okay? I didn't ... didn't *hurt* you, or anything, did I? I was trying to be gentle ... trying *so* hard not to tease you ..." JC trails off and buries his face in Justin's neck. He might have *said* it was mind-blowing, but crying after receiving a blowjob wasn't really a normal reaction, in JC's experience. And now all he can do is think that Justin is regretting it.

"HURT me?" asks Justin, yanking JC's head back to face him. "What, are you kidding? That was ... FUCK. I didn't believe you, you know. That it was this good." He scrubs at the tears again. "Just neverMIND this. You wouldn't understand. Just ... hold me for a bit. Okay?"

JC just nods mutely, placated, and captivated by Justin's watery blue eyes. But still he wonders what exactly he's not understanding. The thing is, Justin gets too defensive when that much attention is paid to something he's self-conscious about; JC isn't going to risk asking him again. He kisses his forehead instead, carefully avoiding his mouth, and then presses Justin's face to his chest. "'Good,' meaning, you might want me ... or someone ... to do it to you again?" he asks in a falsely brave voice.

"I could get addicted to this," murmurs Justin. "Maybe that's part of what I was afraid of." He kisses JC's chest softly, then lifts his head to see JC's face. They're close enough together right now that he can actually see it in sharp detail, more than he's been able to do this whole time. "You took care of me," he says, making sure JC is getting the full impact of his words. "You didn't let me get lost, alone. Thank you." He hopes JC understands, without him having to say so, that he WAS scared, that it wasn't easy for him to let go, and that JC was the one to make it okay.

JC smiles, not used to someone being that *appreciative* about having him suck their dick, and ducks his head to kiss Justin before freezing and pulling back with a guilty smile. "Well," he shrugs as much as he can with Justin nestled in his arms, "I'll do it anytime. All you have to do is ask." It doesn't occur to JC that that's the sort of thing that Justin *doesn't* want to hear -- an implicit reminder of Joey, and even more, of how lightly he tends to take sex.

"Right," says Justin flatly, his face falling as it all comes crashing down. "Well. Thanks for the service." He lets go of JC and rolls over, burying his face in his arms. JC WILL NOT see him crying this time. In fact, he tries to force himself not to do it at all, but none of his barriers are back up yet and he's left weak, vulnerable, practically shaking. Reminded of what a bad idea this whole thing has been, and how he should have just left JC on the other side of the door last night, gotten his favorite toys and and fucked himSELF silly. Instead of leaving himself open to THIS.

JC is left shocked, his arms still wide open around the space that Justin had vacated so abruptly. He stares at his back, his trembling shoulders, and tries to remember what he could've said to upset Justin so much, so quickly. "Justin..." he starts, reaching for the other man's shoulder. "What did I do wrong? Look, what I did for you ... WITH you ... that was *not* a service. I thought it was gonna be really special for you..."

"Yeah," mutters Justin, his voice muffled by his arms. "I thought it was, too. So, what now? Do I come find you when I'm horny? You know, provided you're not busy with someone else? Maybe squeeze in a quick fuck once in a while? Whatever." He shakes his head, tries to keep JC from SEEING just how damn upset he is right now. He KNEW this was going to happen, KNEW that no matter how good the sex was, enduring the other stuff just wouldn't be worth it. But he was weak, and he gave in, and now he's paying for that.

"Hey, LOOK," JC says angrily, wondering where his buzz went, "I already fucking TOLD you I wouldn't do stuff with 'someone else' if we were gonna ... do stuff. Together. Even if it means *I* don't get shit out of it while I wait. Just 'cause you have some fucking COMPLEX ..." He stops abruptly when he forces Justin to turn over onto his back and, looming over him, sees the fresh tears running down his face. "Ah, fuck. Justin..."

"Fuck OFF!" shouts Justin, pushing him away, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He leans his elbows on his knees and presses the heels of his hands to his eyes, trying to stop the flow. Trying to block everything else out. "Don't FUCKING ruin this now ... Do you even GET how HUGE this is to me? Do you?"

"Yes, I ... I *do*, I promise I do," JC says quickly, weakly, cursing the fact that they're in Justin's room and not his, where he *knows* he can reach under the bed and find something to drink to make all this go away. He scoots up behind him and tries to rub his back soothingly. "I'm sorry I yelled at you, I just ... you just *froze* on me, there, and I thought I did everything right, I thought I was being confident like you wanted, showing you how good it feels when you let someone else touch you ... I'm sorry, just ... for whatever I did, I'm so fucking sorry ..." He can't stop babbling, trying to hit on the one thing to say that will make Justin turn around and forgive him, smile and tell him that he won't have to wait long for the rest of it...

Justin nods his head; it's a bit longer before he lifts it. When he turns his head toward JC, his eyes are red and his cheeks are raw-looking. "This whole fucking this just scares me so much," he says quietly. "Do you even fucking KNOW that? It's like ... I've never surrendered to ANYone before. Not in my whole life. And I GAVE that to you, JC. I trusted you with it. And it WAS good and amazing and all the things you said it would be ... but then after ... " He sighs. "I need the after, too. I'm still fucking wide open, JC. My guts are all over the place here. I can't do the aloof, 'let's get together again some time' thing right now, okay? I need to feel like I'm not going to get lost any second now, and I can't do that without you. Fuck. NOW do you get why I wasn't doing this?"

JC nods, and maybe he really *is* starting to get it. All along, he had really thought that most of Justin being alone had to do with being almost laughably self-centered -- not finding someone he wanted bad enough to have to do *anything* that wouldn't benefit him first and foremost. But hearing Justin talk, it suddenly occurs to JC that he's held on to this, his virginity, because it gave him control. And knowingly or not, JC took that from him. He's sober enough now to realize that he probably shouldn't have ... but it's too late. Abandoning Justin now, backing out of it, saying 'forget it, I'm not worth it' ... none of those are options; he's going to have to do everything he promised or risk *really* fucking with one of his best friend's heads. Which means waiting for Justin to be ready to sleep with him, and stroking his ego, and all sorts of other things that JC DAMN well wishes he could be a lot drunker to do.

"This is not 'aloof, let's get together again some time,' Justin," JC says finally. "This is 'I want you so bad and I haven't GONE anywhere.' Okay?"

Justin` nods again, wraps his arms around himself. "Okay," he says softly, leaning back a little and hoping to come into contact with JC's body.

"Okay?" JC repeats softly, kneeling behind Justin and wrapping his arms around him, sorely tempted to wrap his legs around his waist.

"Yeah," says Justin. "Okay. Fuck. Are you gonna weird out if I cry again?" He closes his eyes and wills himself not to. "I feel fucked up, C."

JC shifts his body, settling down on the bed and slinking one of his legs into Justin's lap, pressing his lips against his shoulderblades. He wants to suggest a remedy for both of them, but isn't sure it'll be appreciated. "Why are you gonna cry, Justin? I'm sorry; I said I was sorry."

"Fuck," says Justin, sighing. "It's not ABOUT you, JC. It's me ... inside ... do you get it?"

"No," JC replies honestly. "You're thinking too much, and you told me not to let you do that." He wraps his other leg around Justin's hip and presses up close against his back.

"You're ... unsatisfied," says Justin, leaning back against him a little more firmly. "I'm sorry."

"No, no," JC murmurs, licking along his shoulder. "It's okay. This was about you. I just wish you weren't upset."

"I'm not UPSET," says Justin. "I'm ... I don't know what I am. I'm letting something out, I guess." He chuckles a bit. "Something that's been in here a long, long time."

JC laughs too, and nips at Justin's back. "You ARE upset. You're crying. I don't know why."

"Sometimes people cry when they're not upset, JC," he says, almost entirely comfortable with the feel of JC wrapped around him. "Sometimes they cry when they're a lot of other things, too. Like happy, or confused, or just fucking overwhelmed." "Am I supposed to infer that you're the latter?" JC asks, grinning and running his hands over Justin's chest.

"I'm all three," says Justin quietly. "And probably a dozen others, too. Don't tell me that SURPRISES you. You know ... you knew what it was gonna be like ... "

"I don't guess I did, really," JC admits, squeezing his thighs tighter around Justin's hips and kissing his neck, glad that some combination of talking and touching is getting Justin to open up again. "I will say I'm glad we did this first. Before ... anything else."

Justin` chuckles again, softly. "You DON'T get it. This ... was the new stuff. What we just did." He turns his head, gives JC a wry look. "My ass," he says, "is NOT virgin territory."

JC arches an eyebrow and plants a kiss on Justin's cheek. "If you say so. I may have to test that theory."

"You'll get your chance," says Justin, his whole being calming down a little. "You ... " He sighs. "You really DIDN'T know what you wre getting into, did you?"

"Nope," JC says lightly. "Doesn't mean I regret it, though."

"I tried to tell you," says Justin. "I guess ... I didn't really know, myself ... "

JC closes his eyes and nuzzles some more against Justin's back. "Justin? What can we do, next time ... uh, if you still want there to be one ... to make it go smoother? I really tried to be gentle, I'm sorry ..."

"You were great," says Justin. "Honest. This was bound to happen, really. It's kinda been a long time coming ... "

"Um, okay," JC pulls back a little, frowning, wondering if it was a comment like THAT that set Justin off in the first place. "Way to make a guy feel unimportant, man."

Justin` looks at him. "What do you MEAN?" he asks, blinking in confusion.

JC shrugs and starts to pull his legs away. "I guess I was just at the right place at the right time, or some shit. Look, if you're okay, I kinda gotta go..."

"You don't GET it," says Justin, holding him there. "I said it before, C. This wouldn't have -- COULDN'T have -- happened with anyone else. My virginity's always been yours to take, okay? We were ... just waiting for the right time. So ... years of buildup plus amazing orgasm plus a little bit of tenderness equal Justin crying. Got it?"

JC pauses. "You think we've been building up to this? Really?" He's surprised by that -- he's never really noticed that Justin felt this way about him, until he actually said something.

Justin` smiles a bit sadly. "I take that to mean you weren't."

"No, it's just ..." JC kisses his shoulder again distractedly as he thinks about how to phrase it. "Justin, I could barely tell you were into guys. You seemed so ... SET on being by yourself, I guess I couldn't see past that."

"I was," says Justin. "Sex IS complicated. I think we've proven that. And it IS gonna fuck around with how we interact now, like it or not. And it's fucking with me inside, too. You guys don't think so, but sex -- sex between two people -- IS a big fucking deal, okay?"

"Fuck," JC mutters, starting to get up again. "I tried my best to make you feel okay about it, but I guess I'm too much of a whore or something for my opinion to mean anything. And can you stop preaching at me?"

"Preaching?" says Justin. "I'm not fucking PREACHING, JC."

"'Sex is a big fucking deal, okay?'" JC mimics, swinging one of his legs around behind Justin and climbing off the bed. "Yeah, thanks, dad. Talk to me when you do something other than lay there."

"Get out," says Justin, his voice flat. "And fuck you, JC." He forces JC to meet his eyes. "I gave you something that was special to me," he says, his voice quiet. "I hope that some day that means something to you."

"Fuck you, too," JC says mildly, pulling on his jeans. "I was leaving already. I'm really not down with the whole 'begging for forgiveness' thing, and I've already done it, like, eight times with you. So fuck you, too."

"Get out!" yells Justin, throwing a pillow at him. "Just get the FUCK out. I wish I'd NEVER fucking let you touch me."

JC stares at the pillow on the ground, then sneers at Justin as he turns toward the door. "We both know that is such a lie."

Justin` just turns away from him, closes his eyes, and lets the tears stream out again. No sense hiding them now. JC KNOWS how much he's gotten inside him, knows he's won at whatever he set out to do. There's not much left to be ashamed of.

The silence that follows JC out the door makes him cringe despite his anger, but not enough to make him stay. He can already taste the whiskey that's waiting for him.

Justin` buries his face in the pillow, pulls the blanket up over his painfully naked body, and cries humiliated, angry, hurt tears until he has no energy left. He'd known. That's the worst part. He'd KNOWN this would happen, and he fucking did it anyway. What a fucking moron.

Collapsing heavily on one of the bar stools, JC grabs the liquor bottle with the most liquid in it, which happens to be the whiskey, which is fine with him. And starts chugging it. He puts it down when the room starts spinning. And picks it right back up when it stops.

Justin` grabs the extra pillow and wraps his arms around it, for the first time pretending that there's someone else in his bed as he falls asleep.

---

An indeterminate amount of time later, JC hasn't moved much, except to switch to tequila. Oh, and somehow he ended up on the floor, leaning his back against the bar, slumped against the legs of the stool he vaguely remembered sitting in. He feels pretty good.

Justin` finds himself, unfortunately, awake, and without any kind of comforting fuzziness about what happened immediately preceding his nap. He groans, plants his face in the pillow again, and decides he really doesn't want to move right now. He feels filthy. And worse, feels like he deserves to.

Plus, JC thinks, there's no better way to get rid of a pesky erection than drinking to the point that even the *idea* of being hard makes him laugh. Especially since even he can realize that he really, really fucked up any chance he had of Justin doing anything about it.

Justin` realizes his arms are still wrapped around the pillow, so tightly that if it were a person he'd be strangling him. Disgusted, he tosses it onto the floor, where another pilllow still lays. Like he needed THAT reminder.

Like, really, REALLY fucked it up, JC acknowledges. He can make himself flinch if he tries to remember the nasty things he said, but then he just has to take another drink to compensate, and since he's having difficulty keeping the booze from spilling everywhere at this point, it's better not to think about it. Like the part where he said he wasn't going to beg. Or how he accused Justin of just lying there.

"Fuck," says Justin aloud, his voice muffled by the pillow. "God damn fuck." He rolls over onto his back, gropes beside him to find his glasses and slips them onto his face. He couldn't believe he'd forgotten about that FUCKING lunch. He just hopes it's not too late to back out.

'Cause if he's honest with himself, JC realizes that he probably will be begging again, maybe even before the day is over. And Justin *wasn't* just lying there. So basically he's just a lying asshole. Even better, a DRUNK lying asshole.

He needs to get off this bed anyway, this bed than now holds a handful of dirty, painful memories. He suspects he'll be settling for the couch again. He rubs at his arms, feeling suddenly cold, remembering that he LIKED what he and JC had done, and that makes him feel dirtier than anything. Cringing, knowing he can't bear to go out in public right now, no matter what, he reaches for his phone.

Well, okay, JC thinks: a drunk, lying asshole that could afford to be a little drunker if he's still able to have coherent thoughts about what a drunk, lying asshole he is. Justin *cried*, for shit's sake, and he just insulted him and, basically, laughed at him. If he never spoke to JC again, he wouldn't be surprised. Was JC really so insecure himself that he couldn't have been a man for the half-hour it would've taken to reassure Justin?

"Mom?" says Justin shakily into his cell phone, still lying on the bed. "No ... I'm okay ... honest. I just can't meet you for lunch today." He pauses, listening to the half dozen questions that fly at him at once, and not wanting to answer any of them. He sighs audibly. "Mom, I'll meet you this weekend, okay?" He has to pause again as she starts grilling him. Obviously he's not sounding as okay as he's trying to. So much for his acting skills. But he's HARDLY going to tell her what's wrong, not this time.

JC raises the bottle to his lips again and is able to get most of the tequila in his mouth when he does. The thing of it was, he figures, Justin's reaction had honestly scared him. Sure, he knew that the other man had never done that before; but JC himself was so *removed* from his own first time, removed from thinking of sex as really *meaningful*, that just how much it might affect Justin just never occured to him.

"Mom, I'm fine. I just can't get away today." Justin rolls his eyes, is reminded why he doesn't call his mother very often. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?" He's forced to listen to another bout of concern. He can't say that's really such a bad thing right now, though. "I will. I ... I love you, mom." He smiles as she returns the sentiment. "I'll talk to you tomorrow. Bye." He drops the phone on the floor, sprawls out across the bed. He doesn't know what the hell to do with his day now, but at least he doesn't have to face anyone. Doesn't have to face his MOTHER who would take one look at him and force him to tell her what was wrong.

And somehow, somewhere along the way, Justin seemed to have gotten his *heart* all wrapped up in it. How was JC *supposed* to handle hearing that Justin had basically saved his virginity for him? Again -- without Justin's gorgeous body in front of him and with a sufficient amount of alcohol to dampen his sex drive -- JC admits to himself that this is probably a bad idea. They're not on any common ground, which certainly makes this a case where Justin's "sex equals complications" theory will hold true.

Justin closes his eyes against the memories hammering against him. How JC touched him, held him, kissed him, sucked him ... he'd never felt like that before, and now he thought maybe he never wanted to feel that again. You had to surrender yourself to get there. Give up control to someone else, which leaves you vulnerable. And Justin vows never to let himself be that vulnerable in front of someone else, ever again.

As much as JC wants to sleep with Justin -- and he does, because he knows it'll be good, and he won't get kicked out after, and he probably won't have to sit around *waiting* for it to happen again, like he does with Joey -- he's not prepared for a relationship. Or even the not-relationship, something-between-sex-and-a-one-night-stand thing that Justin had been talking about. JC recognizes his own failings, and he won't be able to do it.

He's been with someone else now, and that's something Justin can't take back, much as he wants to. He's not even sure JC will be show in his fantasies anymore. His brief flirtation with 'real' sex had ended in utter disaster, and obviously he wasn't any good at it anyway. But at least he knows he's able to please himSELF, still. Forever and always. And now he knows that he was right, and that IS the better way to go through life. You don't get your guts torn out that way.

The thing about it, it occurs to JC as he slumps down further against the bar, is that *Justin* recognizes his failings too. Maybe even better than JC does himself. And he has no compunction about telling JC what they are, either. JC might have made himself feel like a drunk, lying asshole ... but only after Justin made it painfully clear, in many varied and colorful ways, that he thinks that JC is just an alcoholic whore.

Justin finally sits up on the bed, but it's only to lean over his night table, open the drawer and rummage around in it. It takes him a few seconds to find the lubricant, a few more to find the condoms. He always keeps those items close at hand. It takes longer to find the full bottle of vodka, in the cupboard beneath. "Fuck you, JC," he says aloud.

*Fuck you, Justin,* JC thinks, but there's no venom behind it. He can drink if he wants to; he can screw around if he wants to. And sure, he gets lonely, but the good thing is that can usually be remedied by Joey or booze, or both. He's not hurting anyone or anything. No matter *what* Justin says. Justin KNOWS this is a bad idea, but fuck it, he's going to do it anyway. NEEDS to. Doesn't even care if it makes him come, for once, which is a strange and angry feeling for him. He rips the condom package over his teeth, slides it loosely onto the neck of the bottle, slathers it with lubricant. It's unopened, at least, which means nothing to snag, nothing to hurt him. Then again, he isn't even sure he'd object to being hurt ... and suddenly he's trembling with anger that something could make him FEEL that way.

And JC's not giving it up -- the sex or the booze -- for anyone or anything, either. And it becomes obvious to JC that Justin must know that, too. He drinks long and deep again, as that thought swims around in his head. He ... doesn't get it. *Why* would Justin want to sleep with him, knowing that about him? Knowing that his promise to stop fucking around with Joey was barely short of empty? Knowing enough that he didn't even bother *asking* him to stop drinking?

Justin barely even takes the time to shove a saliva-slicked finger inside himself before he lifts his hips, braces himself, and slides the bottle in. He hisses at the abrupt sensation of fullness. He almost didn't WANT to get turned on by this, but his body is trained to respond and it does, his cock hardening against his groin and stomach, he blood rushing. He just figures, if he's going to be fucked, he might as well be FUCKED. He roughly thrusts the bottle in and out of himself, the liquid inside sloshing around audibly.

JC doesn't have an answer for any of those questions, in fact ... all it does is raise more. If Justin knows all this, has seen everything *coming* to this, what made him start wanting JC in the first place? Beyond that, why would he want to lose his *virginity* to him? Talk about something JC is wholly undeserving of, and wholly unequipped to handle. Justin *needs* someone that can take care of him afterwards, and knows it can't be JC ... and yet, wants it to be him anyway. Or wantED. He's fairly certain he doesn't, anymore.

"Christ," grunts Justin as he realizes that he's going to come anyway, acknowledges that when he's doing something like this, it's a pretty inevitable thing. He grabs his cock and starts jerking it roughly as he fucks himself, not caring about the noise or the mess. It DOES hurt, a bit, but not enough to make him stop. Not this time, anyway.

Closing his eyes, sighing, JC's head falls backwards and bangs sharply against the foot of the bar. It might hurt, if he could feel anything. *If* he could feel anything. If he could *feel* anything, what happened between him and Justin might not have had to come down to a choice of the lesser of two evils. But that's what it is, now: he could take the high road -- acknowledge that he IS an alcoholic whore, count his blessings that things stopped where they did, do his best to help Justin get over *whatever* it is that he feels for him, for *whatever* reason. Maybe talk to Chris, see if he can get Justin to open up to *him*. Or...

He drives the bottle into himself as he comes, spilling over his hand, grunting again and clenching his teeth to keep from saying the name that's on the tip of his tongue. As soon as the orgasm starts to fade he yanks the bottle out of his ass, strips the condom off and tosses it into the garbage can. "There," he says, his voice quietly vicious. "NOW you've fucked me, you bastard." He uncaps the bottle, takes a generous swig of the vodka, then recaps it and hurls it against the wall. It leaves a dent where it impacts, then falls with a dull thud to the floor.

OR: he could give in. Make that extra little effort to convince himself that if he goes after Justin again, seduces him into giving him another chance, just like last night ... he's really only giving him what he wants, what he ASKED for, alcoholic whore or not. That it wouldn't just be for JC -- him lying on a bed, next to Justin, feeling his hot, heavy cock in his hand, again, or his mouth, again, or his ass ... oh *please*, in his ass -- that it would be for Justin too. And maybe he'd surprise himself, surprise both of them, and wake up next to Justin and not need to grab a drink right away, and say no to Joey the next time he asked. Maybe. Funny how the liquor in his system is fooling him into thinking THAT choice isn't so bad.

Justin is left with an aching, gnawing, UNsatisfied feeling, and wishes that if he screamed or hit or fucked hard enough, it would just go away. He wishes things were like they were yesterday. And yet...there's something inside him that doesn't. Something inside that's GLAD he knows now, that it isn't such a mystery. He'd though it would be a special, meaningful thing to lose his virginity to someone, but instead it was just sex. Just sex. The way the rest of them always talk about it. Now he knows that they were right all along.

Actually, the liquor in his system is fooling JC into thinking a lot of things, but he's aware enough to realize that any decisions he makes right now, he'll have forgotten when he sobers up. *Whenever that might be*, he thinks, reaching above his head and fumbling along the top of the bar for the next bottle in line.

In a fit of frustration, Justin rips all the blankets and sheets off his bed and tosses them in a pile on the floor. Left only with the bare mattress. he lays down across it, stretching out, stretching his muscles. He doesn't even want to leave this room, doens't want to face ANYone, let alone JC, so he picks up a copy of Rolling Stone off his floor and begins flipping through it. It'll kill time. And it won't make him think, which he cherishes most of all.

---

JC doesn't wake up even when he rolls over on the couch on top of the remote, accidently pressing the power button and swamping the room with the sounds of the evening re-broadcast of TRL. His face is pressed into the cushions, his mouth open, arm draped over the edge with fingers tickling at the neck of an overturned bottle of rum. There hadn't been a lot left in it anyway.

Justin tosses the US Weekly on top of the rest of the magazines he's already used to numb his brain. He doesn't know why Chris buys that trash anyway, then gives it to Justin when he gets sick of it, knowing Justin can't bear to throw a single book or magazine away, no matter HOW bad. He's fucking sick of this. Sick of the tension, sick of the situation, sick of feeling SICK about it all.

JC still doesn't wake up, even when the dish of lasagna he had left in the oven starts to burn, the smell filling the kitchen and the hallway. The dish of lasagna -- Justin didn't need to know that Joey taught JC how to make it -- miraculously prepared without incident, and primarily one-handed, as JC was quite reluctant to put down the rum in order to do it.

Justin realizes the churning in his stomach isn't entirely from stress as the smell of smoke wafts past his nostrils. "What the fuck?" he says. At first he almost panics, thinking that something is on fire, then recognizes the odor of food underneath it, which he'd failed to notice earlier. Lance must have been cooking. Or maybe Chris. They'd starve if they ever had to fend for themselves, he swears. He rolls himself off the mattress and opens the dresser, finding a clean pair of boxers to put on. It's his one concession to cleanliness as he summons up the energy to leave his room and take care of whatever the fuck is burning.

So it isn't the noise, or the smell, that threatens to wake JC up, so much as it is the inevitable repercussions of several hours of drinking hard liquor on a very empty stomach. As accustomed as his body is to the volume of the booze, binges where he drank that fast come less frequently. He stirs slightly as the familiar waves of nausea intrude upon his sleep.

Justin pads silently down the hallway toward the kitchen, following the smell. He's surprised he doesn't hear any voices, but then he should have expected that. If there HAD been, wouldn't someone ELSE have taken care of the god damn smoke by now? He turns the corner, sees a stream of smoke coming out of the oven. "Fuck!" he exclaims, grabbing the oven mitts and hauling the charred mess out. The remenants of lasagna, looks like. Lasagna? "Joey?" he calls out loudly. "You around?"

JC turns back over, groaning, his head falling off the side of the sofa -- the shift in his equilibrium making his stomach lurch violently. "Oh, shit ..." he moans, scrambling off the couch and staggering down the hall to the bathroom, making it to the toilet just in time. After wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist, he slumps backward against the tub, his head connecting heavily with the porcelain edge. He feels it, but barely.

Justin turns the oven off, fans the smoke a little, for once thankful the batteries in the smoke detector are dead. He hears the thump of someone falling off the couch, sees the blur of someone racing past him down the hall, and sighs as he puts two and two together. He takes the oven mitts off and tosses them on top of the fridge as the sounds of vomiting reach him. Half of him wants to just ignore it, let JC live with what he's done to himself, but the other half falls into the old familiar -- almost comfortable -- pattern of taking care of him.

He makes his way into the bathroom, pours a glass of water, and silently kneels down, bringing it to JC's lips. "Drink," he says softly.

JC takes a sip, then pushes Justin's arm away weakly, rubbing the back of his head. "Thanks," he says raspily, reluctantly, grimacing at the taste in his mouth. He takes a couple deep breaths, making sure he isn't going to puke again, before leaning his neck back on the bathtub again. "Where'd you come from, anyway."

"You're not THAT gay," says Justin teasingly, hiding the worry that he suddenly feels. The guilt at even considering not helping him. JC had been cooking the lasagna, cooking the dinner that they'd planned, looks like. DESPITE everything. Though ... JC is also puking drunk. And it takes a LOT to do that to him. He sits down against the edge of the tub next to him, rubs the back of his neck a little. "Drink some more," he adds. "It'll help."

"It'll come right back up," JC disagrees, shaking his head slightly, before leaning foreward and opening the cabinet underneath the sink, digging around for a washcloth. "And what's the deal with the gay comment?" He finds a towel, but realizes he doesn't quite have the energy to stand up and get it wet ... so he curls up and presses his cheek to the cool tile of the floor instead.

"It's water," insists Justin. "It'll keep you hydrated. And it's better to have something come back up than dry heaves. So drink." He holds the cup out to him again. "You know I'm right." He waits for JC to take a tiny sip, then stands up and gets a washcloth from the sink for him, wringing out the excess water. "The gay thing," he says as he sits back down, hands the washcloth to him. "You, um, asked me where I came from. It was just a joke, C."

"I don't get it," JC sighs, laying back down on the floor and wiping the washcloth over his forehead, his lips, and down the front of his throat. The light in the bathroom is harsh on his eyes and he covers them with his arm, before leaning up on an elbow and looking hopefully at the cup in Justin's hand. He still hasn't made eye contact with him; embarrassed to be caught in this position, wary of the I-told-you-so that he knows is coming sooner or later.

"I'll explain it to you later," promises Justin with a resigned sigh, handing him the cup and hoping that JC can hold it himself this time. JC looks like hell. REALLY like hell. And Justin has to wonder how he could have gotten himself in this shape by dinnertime. And why. Though, with JC, a why pretty much isn't necessary. "You think you're going to throw up again, C?"

"Nope," JC says knowingly, all too accustomed to what his body's going through right now, and what he can expect from it. He sits up, then, drinking a little more deeply from the cup before resting it on top of the sink and stripping off his shirt. "Seriously," he says, clearing his throat and stretching out on the bathmat, balling up the tee for a pillow, "what're you doing in here?"

"If you're not going to throw up again, then maybe we should get you out of the bathroom," says Justin, ignoring the question. He sighs inwardly as JC settles in; he doesn't look like he's going anywhere. Which means that Justin -- as his self-appointed guardian, like it or not, right now -- won't be going anywhere either. "You want some more water?"

"Nope," JC repeats, covering his eyes again. He just needs to lie still for a couple minutes, make sure the water he already drank'll stay down; then he can get up and take an advil or three and be good as new. Good enough for a beer, at least. He bends his knees and arches his hips off the ground briefly, reaching underneath him to smooth out the terrycloth of the mat. "Thanks, though."

"You know you should," says Justin quietly, but he doesn't argue. Not about this. He saves his arguments for when JC will remember them. He fills the glass anyway, sets it on the floor next to him, gives JC a significant look. Then he settles himself in for the wait. JC almost choked once, when he was this drunk, and Justin won't let that happen again no matter HOW much he wants to lay into JC right now.

JC rolls his eyes from underneath his arm, biting back the desire to ask Justin again just what the fuck he's DOING in there. Not that he minds letting him think he's taking care of him. 'Cause ... the attention's kinda nice. And maybe it means he isn't so mad anymore. Bringing the washcloth back up to his face and neck again, JC hisses when he feels how cool it has gotten, feels goosebumps appear on his arms and chest.

"You need me to do that for you?" asks Justin, almost reluctantly. He doesn't want to see JC poke an eye out or something when he inevitably misses what he's aiming for. He reaches for the washcloth, but lets JC make the decision. He REALLY just wants to get out of the bathroom, wants to put JC in bed or something and be done with it. Stop having to be the only fucking adult in the place. DESPITE the opinions they all seem to hold of him.

JC opens one eye and stares up at Justin. "It's just cold; don't worry about it," he tells him, but lets go of the towel anyway. He bites his cheek and makes his voice as even as possible before speaking again. "You don't have to hover over me, you know. I'm okay."

Justin uses it to wipe the beads of sweat off his forehead, to wipe off his shoulder a little bit. "You're not okay, JC," he says in annoyance. "I'm not a fucking moron, you know. But I've ridden this out with you before and I'm SURE I'll be doing it again." He sighs, hands the towel back to JC. "Drink some more water, or you're going to wish you were dead when you wake up again."

The goosebumps don't go away; JC just isn't sure if they're due to the cold dampness of the washcloth anymore, or from the ... tender ... way that Justin's touching him. "I'm not passing out," he insists, struggling to sit up and picking up the cup again, despite himself. "And I *am* fine. You don't know anything about it."

"I know EVERYthing about it," says Justin with a resigned sigh. "If you don't pass out, you'll fall asleep soon. Trust me. I'm the one that actually REMEMBERS these episodes." He nods towards the cup, strangely pleased that JC is already picking it up. "Do you want me to help you to your room, now? Or do you plan to pass out in here, again?"

JC rolls his eyes again as he swallows some more of the water. "You can do whatever you want. If that's help me to my room 'cause you think I'm gonna pass out, I won't stop you. Just don't be surprised if I don't stay there long." His head starts spinning again when he reaches behind himself to grab his shirt, and he clutches at his forehead and moans a little.

"You're such an asshole," mutters Justin, pushing JC's hair off his forehead. "Just lie down there, all right? I won't fucking make you go anywhere." Justin sighs inwardly, recalling the many times he's been in this position before. Well, not QUITE this position -- feeling an incredible amount of resentment towards JC -- but the position of having to take care of him, and being resisted.

It's a testament to how crappy JC *does* feel that he lays back down without a response to the 'asshole' comment; on his side this time, burying his face in his tee shirt. "Just gimme a second, jeez," he mumbles. "My head's spinning."

"Duh," says Justin. He takes the cool cloth from JC and wipes his forehead again. "You LOOK like hell, too." He reaches into the cabinet, takes out a couple more towels. "Here, these'll make a better pillow. Your T-shirt smells." He's distinctly aware that he reeks of sex and sweat himself, but bets that JC doesn't notice.

"Your mom," JC retorts weakly, absurdedly, pushing Justin's hand away. "I don't need 'em, I'm not STAYING here. Stop fucking pestering me." He bends his back slightly, pressing his forehead into the tee shirt, trying to will the pounding away before he has to break down and ask Justin to find his Advil.

"I'd go if I thought you were okay," says Justin flatly. "You're not, so I'm here. You're finished your water again. Do you want some more?"

JC shrugs, really not concerned about anything but getting rid of his headache. Soon. "Why are you insisting that I'm not okay? I'm fine. If you think I haven't done this a million times without you *mothering* me..."

"That," says Justin, handing him the water, "is EXACTLY why I need to stay."

"What is?" JC asks, before snapping: "I don't WANT that!"

Justin` sets it on the floor in front of him anyway. "Is it time for Advil yet, or are you going to puke again first?"

JC picks his head up and stares at him. "Advil," he bites out reluctantly. "And what did you MEAN, 'that's why you need to stay'?"

"Because one of these days you're going to fucking kill yourself if I don't," snaps Justin, standing up, feeling less and less guilty for his fury towards JC. He opens up the medicine cabinet and grabs the half-empty bottle, shaking a couple out for him and dropping them on the floor next to the glass of water.

JC grabs for the pills, growling in frustration when one rolls under the cabinet. He swallows them dry, again; because he can, but also to be obstinate. "Thanks," he mutters, wondering if that all meant Justin was going to leave, now.

Justin` closes the lid of the toilet and sits down on it. "WARN me if you're gonna need this again, okay?" he says. "I need to fucking sit down."

"Okay, but I won't," JC assures Justin, looking at him curiously. "I'm fine. Are YOU okay?"

"No, I'm not fucking okay," snaps Justin again, glaring at him. "Drink your fucking water, JC."

"I don't WANT to," JC snaps back, pulling himself up to sit against the wall, keeping his head as still as he can. "And what, is your neck still bothering you, or something ...?"

"You're drunk," mutters Justin. "Just leave it alone. You'll fucking hear about it later, that's for sure." Justin eyes him; JC's gotten good at covering how drunk he is, and Justin can't tell what kind of state he's in right now. The puking, though, would seem to suggest this whole episode is going to be a blank for JC when he sobers up.

"Tell me NOW," JC says, barely being able to resist kicking at Justin. "You can quiz me later, and if I don't remember good enough, you can ream me again." Better to get it while he's already miserable, anyway. Justin` narrows his eyes, frowns at him. "Are you telling me you're SURPRISED I pretty much hate you at the moment?"

Sighing, JC closes his eyes and lets his head fall back against the wall with a loud noise. "Oh," he says, for lack of anything better to do. He's not surprised. But 'hate'... "Hate?" he gulps, then. "Really?"

"Yeah," says Justin, looking at him levelly. "Really. You did a nice fucking job on me, C, that's for damn sure."

"It WAS a nice fucking job," JC mutters to himself, before banging his head on the wall again. "I didn't mean to," he says simply, after a minute, and it's the truth.

"Yeah, maybe," mutters Justin. "But you did." He reaches out, brushes the sweaty strands of hair off JC's forehead again. "You feeling better?"

JC nods, and grabs Justin's hand before he can pull away, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the inside of his wrist, not breaking eye contact. "I'm sorry," he whispers.

Justin` jerks his hand away. "Don't touch me," he says softly, still meeting his eyes. "You can't do that anymore."

Nodding again, JC bites his lip. "I understand. I'm sorry. I just ... wanted to taste you, one more time, I guess."

"I'm used now," mutters Justin. "You don't want that." He shivers, JC's touch uncomfortable.

It's probably the booze, or the headache, but JC feels tears spring to his eyes when Justin says that. So he shuts them quickly and knocks his head against the wall some more, three quick times in succession. "Is that what you think?" he asks finally.

"Shouldn't I?" asks Justin, trying to sound disinterested. "You should drink that water. It'll help the headache. Of course, stopping banging your fucking head would help, too."

"I deserve the damn headache," JC mumbles, scrambling to his knees in front of Justin, putting his hands on his thighs before he can react. "But I did not use you," he says firmly, clearly; then lets go.

"Whatever," says Justin, looking to the side, squirming under the uninvited touch. "I'll believe it when you say it to me sober."

JC gets to his feet slowly, pulling himself up using the sink. "I suspect you won't give me a chance, then, will you?" He turns on the faucet, cups water in his hands and splashes it on his face. "You can go. I'm standing; I'm fine. I don't want you to force yourself to stay in a room with me."

"I can make my own choices," says Justin. "Obviously. And I've chosen. Sit back down. Please? You're going to fall."

Throwing Justin a withering glance, he shuts off the water and leans against the door, crossing his arms. "If you hate me so much, why are you here?" He doesn't say it sarcastically, or caustically, or nastily. He honestly wants to know. Wants to know if any of this is salvageable.

"Because you need me to take care of you," says Justin. "Because you obviously can't do it for youself, and no one else is." He pauses. "And you made me dinner. Well, tried."

"Oh, FUCK," JC scrambles for the doorknob. "The fucking LASAGNA ..." He stops, his back to Justin, shoulders slumped. "What time is it," he asks dully.

"I don't know," he says honestly. "I took care of the lasagna. Just ... sit down."

"I told you to go," JC says, leaning heavily on the sink, vaguely remembering putting the lasagna in the oven. Remembering only slightly better why he made it in the first place.

"Did you really think we were still going to have dinner?" asks Justin with painful sincerity? "After what you did? After what you SAID?"

JC doesn't want to answer that. "I told you I'd cook you dinner. Me saying a bunch of shit I didn't mean, shit I REGRET, doesn't change that. I'm still your friend, and us sleeping together, or not sleeping together, won't change that ... but I don't think I expected you to eat it with me, no."

"It's kinda ... inedible, now," Justin warns him softly. "So ... why did you fucking SAY it, then, anyway?"

"Why did you say what YOU said?" JC asks in return. "I didn't just start railing on you unprovoked, you know."

"Well, yeah," says Justin slowly. "You kind of did."

"Nooo," JC says slowly, still with his back to him. "You started it, with that shit about how sex doesn't mean anything to me."

"That's not what I said," says Justin. "I said that sex is a big fucking deal. And it is. To me. Or was, anyway."

JC winces, not able to avoid any longer the acknowledgement of how much what happened between them must have affected Justin. "It can be, to me, too," JC protests. "But you didn't give me a chance to show you that. You assumed I'd treat you like ... well, whoever."

"If I'd assumed that," says Justin, his voice cracking a little. "I wouldn't have fucking done it in the first place. You HURT me, JC. How are you going to fix that?"

"*Can* I?" JC opens the medicine cabinet and grabs the Advil bottle again. "I mean, I'd fucking follow you around like a puppy if I thought it would help, at this point."

Justin` gives him a funny look. "WHY?" he asks.

Swallowing two more pills, JC tosses the bottle back in the cabinet, unconcerned that it knocks over several other bottles in the process. "Why what?" he asks, turning to look at Justin finally, with red-rimmed eyes. "Because I'm a fucking asshole, and I don't want to be the reason you never let yourself fall for someone."

"I DID let myself fall for someone," says Justin quietly. "THAT'S no fucking secret anymore. Um ... you okay?"

"Fine," JC answers quickly, too distracted to wonder why Justin asked, before pointing a finger at him. "*Don't* you fucking start saying that kind of stuff. You didn't TELL me that *before*, and if it's how you felt, you SHOULD have."

"Yes, and now I know," says Justin dully. "But hey, I'm not a virgin anymore, I guess. Yay me. I think I'll go have some burnt lasagna."

JC presses his thumb against one of his eyelids. "What? We didn't have sex. And don't argue the fucking semantics with me; you know what I'm saying. God, Justin. Don't you think that was an important piece of information to share, when we were actually discussing this? Negotiating it, which, really, is what we were doing?"

"I thought it was pretty clear," says Justin crisply, "that I would NEVER do that with someone i didn't feel strongly for. You should have fucking KNOWN that, Why else would it have been worth it, to me, the guy who can get off with two rubber band and a popsicle stick, if he has to?"

"Wh-what?" JC stutters, unable to keep from laughing at the ridiculousness of that image. "What the hell? Uh ... okay. Anyway. Seriously? You never said or did *anything* to indicate that you wanted to do it for any reason other than: you were attracted to me, and you trusted me, and you were ready to get it over with."

"It wasn't about that," says Justin, scowling at the laughter. "And now YOU know. And fuck, can you STOP laughing at Little Naive Justin already? It's getting old."

"I'm sorry," JC sobers immediately, leaning back against the door again. "It was just the ... nevermind. It wasn't about what?"

"It wasn't about getting it over with, not really," says Justin.

"Then what WAS it about?" JC asks, shutting his eyes again. "Tell me all of it, this time. Don't leave shit out that'll just come back and bite me on the ass."

"It was about me wanting you, and me thinking you wanted me, and me wondering WHAT it was all about, anyway, and me thinking MAYBE you could be that person who lives in my fantasies ... and a bit about me accepting that you aren't, and taking you as is. Though I didn't know THAT would HURT this damn much."

"You know you didn't give me a chance to do that, either," JC says softly, passing a hand over his eyes, swaying slightly.

"To do what, exactly?" asks Justin. "And sit DOWN. Please."

"To be that person," JC replies, almost whispering now, a light-headed feeling threatening to overtake him. "You ... you just bailed at ... the first sign that I wasn't ... " His voice trails off.

"I was pretty ... unstable, JC," he says. "I guess ... I guess neither one of us was prepared for that, huh."

"I'm...sorry..." JC grits out, shaking his head, before his knees buckle and he barely catches himself on the counter.

Justin` shoots to his feet, grabs JC's arm and helps him sit down on the toilet. "We can't go back now," he says. "It happened. It's over."

JC shakes Justin's arm off, and buries his head in his hands. "*I'm* not the one who regrets it," he says. Then, in a weaker voice: "Can I have some more water?"

"Aren't you?" asks Justin, pouring him another glass of water. "You sure SOUNDED like you regretted it. I AM sorry I was a disappointment, but you didn't have to say all that ... "

JC barks out another laugh, incredulous. "A ... a *what*?" He reaches gratefully for the water. "No. You were NOT. And if I made you feel like that, you really shouldn't forgive me."

"Well, apparently I just laid there," says Justin with remembered bitterness. "That can't have been good for YOU."

"Oh, Justin," JC breathes, ready to give up on everything. Now more than ever he's sure he won't be able to be what Justin wants: he remembers saying that, wishes he could remember *why*. "That's so not true. God, feeling your fists in my hair, the soft way you thrust into my mouth ... it was just so fucking SWEET ..."

Justin` blushes, looks at him, feels like a little kid. "You had a good time?"

Feeling too much like shit to be worried about himself, JC is honestly only concerned with making sure he didn't leave any permanent scars on Justin about being in bed with someone else. "I did," he says as firmly as he can, willing back the swimming sensation in his head that's threatening to push him off the toilet. "You felt how hard I was, after."

"I would have done something about that," says Justin. "If everything hadn't blown up in our faces."

"Mmm," JC mumbles, leaning heavily to one side. "I might not have let you, you know."

"Might not have LET me?" says Justin. "Jesus, JC. I thought we were ... never mind."

"You thought we were what," JC repeats, shaking his head a little and then sliding off the toilet to sit on the ground. He's not feeling well, again, but doesn't want Justin to stop talking. He just can't ... *balance* any more.

"Going into it together," says Justin, rushing the words. "Not you MENTORING me or something. JC ... you're really pale. Are you gonna throw up again, hon?"

"No. I just ... there's no rule that both people have to ... " JC stops, and swallows. "Yes," he bites out, then, twisting around and throwing the lid of the toilet back. He retches weakly, his forehead resting on an arm braced across the seat.

Justin` sighs and begins rubbing JC's back, resists any I-told-you-sos that come to mind. A moment later he gets the glass of water and wets the washcloth again, readying himself for when JC stops retching.

Gasping a couple times, JC waits for the spasms racking his body to stop before falling back against the tub again. He'd be embarrassed, if everything he'd already done to Justin today wasn't a hundred times worse. He whimpers a little anyway.

Justin` flushes the toilet, leans over JC to start dabbing at his lips with the washcloth. "This stuff scares me, you know," he says softly, but doesn't clarify what exactly he's talking about.

JC grabs Justin's wrist to hold his hand steady for a second, taking the washcloth in his mouth and sucking on it briefly. "Sorry," he says when he lets him go, gesturing at his hand, before tilting his head back. "What scares you?" he says in a scratchy voice, before leaning over and spitting in the toilet.

"You do," says Justin. "In a whole lot of different ways."

"Sorry for touching you," JC says again, trying to force his breathing to even out.

"It's okay to touch me, right now," offers Justin. "You want some more water?"

JC shakes his head, his stomach still rolling. "I thought that was what's scaring you," JC says, frowning a little and groping for the washcloth again.

"No," says Justin softly, moving the washcloth towards him. "Well, yes. Partly. But you don't have to apologize for it. Or stop."

Taking the towel gratefully, JC presses it against his mouth again before speaking. "Partly? Justin, if I'm doing stuff to make you uncomfortable, you have to keep telling me ... don't just let me get away with it because ... well, for whatever reason you HAVE been."

"I have to do things that make me uncomfortable sometimes," says Justin, his voice still somewhat soft. "Or I wouldn't do anything at all. And just because something scares me, doesn't mean it should." He SHOULD be scared of JC in a lot of ways, more scared that he'll damage him emotionally than anything though. But he needed to learn how to deal with that, not run from it. "You feeling a bit better?"

"Oh, sure. Tons." JC smiles ruefully, but it's a sign that he's improving if he's joking about it. "One thing you *don't* have to do, Just, is stay in here with me. Really. I don't really deserve you trying to take care of me, or whatever."

"Actually, that about the one thing I DO need to do," insists Justin. He sighs at JC. "Are you going to remember this?" he asks. "Or are you going to forget, like most of the other times I take care of you in here?"

JC spits in the toilet again. "Why do you ask? Is that why you *need* to do it? So I owe you something?"

"I ASK," says Justin, "because the thought of you forgetting this conversation is unpleasant. I'd really rather you remembered what happened in here. And I NEED to do it so that I know you're okay," he adds.

Neither one of those were answers JC was expecting, and is surprised to find that he's blushing a little. "Oh. I'm ... okay, Justin. Really. And I won't forget that we talked about what happened; that I admit I regret the things I said. That won't change."

Justin nods. It's not enough, but it's a start. "You're not okay, yet," he says. "I'll know when you're okay enough for me to leave you alone. I'm guessing you're not going to want anything for dinner?"

Laughing hollowly, JC pulls himself up onto the edge of the tub. "Maybe a cracker. And look, I'm sitting! And this time I really won't puke again. So you can go. Um ... after you tell me why you don't want me to forget that we had this discussion?"

"If you don't remember," says Justin, looking away. "Then maybe you didn't mean the apology. Then maybe you DID mean what you said ... after."

JC hands the washcloth back to Justin, and lets his fingers rest on his hand until he turns to look at him. "I did not mean ANYTHING I said to you in anger, in that room. I DID mean everything I said to you by way of apology in this one. Now you just have to figure out how to forgive me."

"I'm sure I will," says Justin, giving him a wry look. "I'm weak, that way. Your stomach going to be okay to be around me while *I* eat?"

"You actually still want to be around me?" JC asks, a little incredulously. "Uh ... yeah, I can sit with you. I don't know how many times I have to tell you I'm okay before you believe it."

"I think," says Justin carefully, "that I'm actually a better judge of when you're okay than you are, at this point." He gives JC his arm, offers to help him to his feet. "And I thought, since we're sorta okay now, you might want to follow through on that dinner."

Even JC can acknowledge that Justin had been right earlier, about him getting sick again, so he doesn't bother to disagree. Plus, this dinner business is too unexpected for him to think about anything else. "We're sorta okay now?" he repeats.

"We're more okay then we were when I came in here," says Justin. "I don't hate you."

"Well, *that's* good," JC breathes, taking Justin's arm and getting to his feet, a little unsteadily. "It was the seeing me suffer part that did it, huh."

"I've seen this far too many times for it to have ANY kind of significant impact," says Justin quietly. Sadly. He helps JC to his feet, supports him until he is steady enough not to fall over the moment he lets go of his arm. "But yeah, it's good. *I* feel better."

"Good," JC nods, looking down at his bare chest, then at Justin's. "Um. I'm torn between asking you to tell me why things are better, and asking you to grab us some shirts."

"You cold?" asks Justin, beginning to help him out of the room.

"A little," JC admits. "I just ... I dunno. Thought maybe you'd be more comfortable in something a little more ... substantial ... than a pair of boxers?" He crosses his arms over his chest, cursing the alochol that's still in his system for him even *noticing* how much of Justin's body was bare.

"I wasn't thinking about that ... until just now," says Justin, looking down at himself self-consciously. "Come on, though, let's get you dresed, okay?"

"No, no, I'm okay," JC tries to shrug Justin's arm off and avoid looking at him, at the same time. "I know you're hungry, I think I'm capable of finding myself a shirt ..."

Justin chuckles a bit. "I just rode out a couple of good puking sessions with you, JC, I THINK I can help you get a shirt on," he says. "THEN I can worry about finding something to eat."

"YOU go get dressed, then," JC insists, still trying to free himself from Justin's grip, frowning at Justin's laugh. "I can meet you. I don't need your help, okay?"

"You ever think maybe *I* would feel better if I helped?" asks Justin, holding his arm more loosely now.

"Why?" JC peers at him, not struggling once Justin relaxed his hold, letting him lead JC down the hall.

"Because I'd know you were okay," says Justin. "Because I'd feel like I was DOING something. Um ... do you want me to put clothes on? I can ... I was just warm, is all."

"Okay," JC looks at Justin a little confusedly as he nudges the door to his room open. "I mean no. Don't do it for me; I don't care what you're wearing. Or ... uh, not wearing. It's so strange, the things that make you uncomfortable, and the things that don't."

"There's nothing of me you haven't seen," mutters Justin, opening JC's closet. "I mean ... what's the point, now?"

JC falls onto the bed after Justin lets him go, and stares at the other man's back for a minute. "The difference is that you *wanted* me to see it, then. Now it just feels like I shouldn't look."

"It's kinda yours, in a way," says Justin, turning towards him and shrugging. "So look at it, if you want to. Or don't, if you don't." He sighs, turns back to the closet.

"Like I have a choice," JC mumbles to himself, laying back on the bed in a huff. "What does that mean, 'it's kinda mine,' Justin?" he asks after a second, staring at the ceiling.

Justin runs a hand down his chest to his stomach. "It's not really mine anymore," he confesses, still looking away. "So ... whatever." He pulls a shirt out and tosses it onto the bed next to JC. "Will that do?"

JC doesn't even look at it. "Sure. Hey, Justin? Dumb question, but what does THAT mean?"

Justin shrugs again. "It doesn't ... respond the same, anymore," he says reluctantly. "Can you put your shirt on, or do you need some help?"

Summoning up the energy to prop himself up on an elbow, JC stares at Justin's back even harder. Part of him DOES want Justin to come help him, if for no other reason than he'll have to LOOK at him, and maybe JC can get a straight answer out of him. "Come help me," he says softly.

Justin nods and turns around, walking over to him. He unbuttons the shirt, then helps JC sit up. "Here," he says. "Put your arms through."

Sliding his hand into one arm of the shirt, JC lets it rest low on Justin's hip as he slowly fumbles behind him for the other. "Tell me what you mean, Justin, about your body not doing what you want it to. Are you sure I didn't hurt you?"

"You didn't hurt my body," Justin assures him. "Other arm now."

JC hooks his fingers in the waistband of Justin's boxers to steady himself before finally finding the sleeve. "Justin," he says quietly, looking up at him. "I know about the other stuff. The ways I *did* hurt you. But you need to tell me this, too, so I can apologize for all of it."

"You can't apologize for this," says Justin. "Do you want me to button for you?"

Nodding, his lower lip sticking out a little, JC doesn't take his eyes off Justin's face. "Well, then at least tell me so I know what I have to feel guilty for."

Justin sighs. "There's nothing to tell," he says. "After that ... what I do isn't the same anymore. I mean, it'll DO, and it's still fun, but ... well, whatever. You know what you do to me. I don't have to tell you." He quickly button's JC's shirt for him, trying not to touch skin.

JC grabs Justin's hand, holding it against his chest, and tightens his grip on Justin's underwear. "Maybe you do. What are you ... um. Do you mean you tried to ... after? Today? But it wasn't ... ?"

Justin flushes, tries to look away again. "Yeah, well, you know me. And no, it wasn't."

"Why not?" JC asks, letting his knuckles brush against the soft skin on Justin's hip, wanting *so* badly to ask what it is he does to Justin ... especially since he spoke as if it was something he still did. Maybe not drunk and having just puked twice in front of him, but still.

"I don't know," says Justin. "Everything's different now, okay?" He rubs his arms briskly, even though he's not cold. "Wasn't it different for you?" he asks. "After your first time?"

"Justin, I ... I honestly don't remember," JC admits reluctantly, starting to rub Justin's fingers unconsciously. "I'm sure it was, but ... "

Justin nods sadly. Part of him wants to think he's special, and part of him just wants to feel NORMAL about all this. "How long ago was it, for you?" he asks, sitting down on the bed. "When? Who?"

JC lets go, lies back on the bed, covers his eyes. He doesn't want to talk about this, now -- he wants to talk about Justin, and what he's thinking, and where this is GOING -- but he also figures he'd rather be not-sober for it when he DOES have to talk about it. And since he's already kinda gotten reamed for his current state... "What are you asking?" he says finally. "My first blowjob?"

"I guess so," says Justin. "Your first significant sexual contact with another person." He pauses, looks at JC. "So far you've been my first EVERYthing," he adds.

JC wants to smile at that, but isn't sure how it would be received. "Well, okay, the first time I had an orgasm with someone else, I was ... 15? Probably. But it wasn't like what we did, today. It was totally awkward, just all fumbling. Me and this girl, Valerie Daniels, basically dry-fucking each other and coming in our pants. Um. You should be happy you missed all that, really. And I don't mean that condescendingly."

Justin rolls his eyes. "I've come in my pants," he confesses. "Just not from rubbing up against another person. I KNOW how icky that is." He pats JC's leg a little uncertainly. "You sound better," he says.

"Well, see? Isn't what we did better than that?" JC asks, smiling a little and propping himself up on his elbows, then coughing uncertainly. "Um. But, yeah, my headache's gone and I'm not nauseous anymore. If that was a hint that you're hungry and done talking."

"I'm not THAT hungry," says Justin. "I was just, you know, checking up on you. Getting a status update." He lets his hand rest on JC's leg. "What we did was a lot better than that. Maybe that's why ... "

"Well, I'm doing okay," JC says, a little unnecessarily, before laying back on the bed again and shifting so his thigh moves under Justin's hand. "That's why what?" he asks, then, because the way Justin let it linger makes him realize he's supposed to, even if Justin himself doesn't know it.

"Why it won't leave me," says Justin softly. "Why it changes everything." He sighs. "I don't want you to feel OBLIGATED or anything, hearing that. But it does. For me." He rubs JC's leg a little, almost unconciously. And he NEVER touches unconsciously. "You still don't know what you did to me. You CAN'T know. But those bad feelings won't last forever."

JC frowns even as his leg burns under Justin's palm. He had thought all along that Justin had meant that what did to him was good -- like what JC was discovering that Justin could do to him -- but that reference to 'bad feelings' blew that bubble right out of the sky. And he didn't want to hear it. But he had to say something, so... "Obligated? To do what?"

"Obligated to be with me, if you don't want to be," says Justin, still stroking him. "But ... you did amazing things to me, JC. Things that DID change everything. Without you ... it's not the same anymore."

"You still WANT me to be with you?" JC sits up in surprise, before he can shut him self up, knowing that this conversation will just lead toward that decision that he's been avoiding making since that morning ... the decision that, really, was to blame for his current physical state.

"Well ... YEAH," says Justin. "I mean, I'm still REALLY pissed at you ... but yeah. I told you ... I wouldn't have DONE that with someone I didn't think was worth staying with. And, despite my fantasies, I KNOW who you are, JC. I know what i"m doing."

"You do," JC says dully, staring at Justin's hand on his leg. "You said you *hated* me, not twenty minutes ago. You shouldn't be making any decisions based on one orgasm."

"My decision isn't based on that," says Justin. "My decision was made LONG before we fell into bed together. I really thought you understood that."

"You tried pretty hard to hide that fact, though, Justin," JC tells him, reaching his fingers out to trace along the wrist of the hand Justin is touching him with. "And don't pretend like what happened this morning didn't affect that decision somehow, either. If it didn't, you wouldn't be sitting here, telling me how much it *changed* everything."

"It changed sex," says Justin. "It changes things because you KNOW, now, and I feel like I can talk about it. But no, it doesn't change the way I feel about you. That was pretty firmly entrenched before this. do you think I COULD hate you, if I didn't have some pretty strong other feelings, too?"

"I don't know, I was a real shithead," JC acknowledges, rubbing his brow. "I just don't ... the stuff you've said to me since you found me puking in the bathroom, that's what I'm supposed to be paying attention to? What the hell happened to make you open up, like that?"

"Despite the fact that you were drunk off your ass," says Justin quietly. "You were still thinking of me. You made dinner. You apologized. Seemed like maybe it was worth taking a chance on talking to you ... was I wrong?"

"No," says JC, barely audibly, before pulling his leg away from Justin's touch and turning on his side. It seemed like he had made his decision without even knowing it, perhaps. "Why do you think I did that?"

Justin looks at JC's body, suddenly no longer under his hand. He gaze moves up to JC's eyes. "I thought it was because you wanted to try more, too," he says. "I guess ... maybe not."

JC stares back, biting his lip. "Or maybe so, since I did all of it without thinking about it. Fuck. After this morning, I had this ... choice, or whatever, I had to make. And I started drinking, because I didn't want to make it. And somehow, all that did was make it for me. But ... *you're* not supposed to still want to try more, Justin."

"I don't understand," says Justin slowly. "What did you decide, C?"

"What you just said!" JC blurts out, turning away again. "About trying. For more. Even after pulling what I did."

Justin stretches out on the bed next to JC, very carefully. "We both have really fucked up coping strategies," is all he says.

"Mmm," JC agrees, looking at Justin out of the corner of his eye, before stretching an arm above his own head. "I don't really see that changing, though. You should know that."

"Yeah," says Justin. "I do know that. I TOLD you I wasn't going into this blind. I just didn't ... expect to get as worked up about it as I did."

JC shrugs. "*I* should have known better," he insists, then moves to sit up. "We should get you some dinner. C'mon."

"What do you MEAN you should have known better?" asks Justin, still laying down.

Sighing, JC pulls his legs up to his chest, and crosses his arms in front of them, rocking slightly. "Even if you didn't think you'd get worked up, I *know* you, and I should have anticipated it. And I shouldn't have over-reacted to anything that came out of your mouth for, like, the next day. So I should have known better. I'm sorry."

"Thank you," says Justin softly. "For apologizing. I'm kind of over the 'overly emotional' part of it, but it still means a lot."

"I'm sorry I didn't say it right away, so you wouldn't have had to resort to your own coping mechanisms," JC shrugs again. "I'm sorry for a lot."

"So," says Justin, stretching out a little. "What now?"

JC looks over his shoulder at Justin, surprised to see him still lying on the bed, still very much dressed only in his boxers. "Uh ... this is your show, baby boy," he swallows. "It was always on your time table."

"Is it still?" asks Justin. "Is there still something happening, between us? Just say it plainly, JC."

"Like I said, this has always hinged on you, Justin. You haven't done anything to *me* to change my mind." It's not lost on JC that he's not giving the straight answer Justin's asking for -- likely because he's still unwilling to take that leap, to make a decision that could affect both of them when he can barely make decisions for himself.

"So if I told you that I figured I could give you a blow job and then we could have dinner, that would be a-ok with you?" asks Justin bluntly.

JC twists around so quickly that he has to grab hold of the comforter to keep from falling off the bed. "You want to ... what? Now? What for?" He realizes this is not how you're supposed to respond to the offer of oral sex, but that was the last thing he expected Justin to say.

"Yeah, now," says Justin. "What for?" Well ... to get you off. Duh. I owe you one, C. I figured it would convince you I'm serious."

"But ... I'm all dirty," JC protests, becoming suspicious about Justin's motives, recalling all too well their conversation this morning about how sex isn't 'just sex' to him. "And you don't have to do that, Justin. I'll believe you without you 'getting me off,' okay? Especially because I already told you, it doesn't always have to be about both people. I'm not keeping score."

"I can't take another comment about just lying there, okay?" says Justin, his quiet voice still biting. "If I do this ... you can't say that anymore."

"Fuck that. No WAY am I letting you do it, if that's the reason." JC says, scrambling to his feet, swaying precariously when he does so and grabbing his head, still muttering. "FUCK that."

"Shit, JC, am I EVER going to get to touch you again?" asks Justin, groaning in frustration. "That's not the ONLY reason, you know."

JC narrows his eyes at him. "Keep talking."

"How about YOU talk?" says Justin nudging him. "What do YOU want, anyway?"

Crossing his arms again, JC dances back out of Justin's reach. "Not telling. Yet. What's the other reason?"

"Because I want to. And fuck you if you don't want to tell. What, you think I don't need reassurances too?"

"Yeah, you *sound* terribly lusty, like you want to suck me," JC says sarcastically. "Look, don't you think this is going a little fast? I'd love nothing better than to fuck your mouth right now, but I'm still worried about you. And I don't plan on making the same mistake twice."

"What, I'm a MISTAKE now? Christ," says Justin, backing away. "I should have quit while I was ahead."

"Not *you*, Jesus," JC rubs his head again before staring down at Justin on the bed. "The way I treated you, after. And I can't take responsibility for anything I say, post-blowjob."

"So, what, I should invest in earplugs, for next time? Just TALK about this, JC. Tell me what you want, too. I won't turn this into some stupid game."

"No, I mean, after I *get* a blowjob..." JC growls, before sitting down on the edge of the mattress. "Forget it, nevermind. What is it you need to hear, Justin? That I'm into this, into *you*, because I want the sex?"

"I need to hear the TRUTH," says Justin in frustration. "I need to hear what YOU want, not what you think I want to hear. God, how far do you think THAT'S gonna get us, if we're only doing the things that I want."

"Why do you assume they're so different, what you want and what I want?" JC asks, hunching his shoulders. "And why are we fighting, again?"

"I'm NOT assuming they're different," says Justin. "If you'd just TELL me, I woudn't have to assume anything." Bravely, he reaches out for JC's leg again.

JC inhales deeply, and then lets everything out in one breath. "I still want this, I want *you*, I want whatever it is you have in your head that you want to give me, I really REALLY want you to fuck me, sometime, but right now I just want you to move your hand up and to your right about ... eight inches."

Justin grins. "What, so you're going to LET me now, are you?" he says teasingly. "You're gonna remember this, right?"

JC nods and leans back into Justin's chest. "You can only touch me if you promise you're not being driven by those scary-motivations, anymore..."

"They weren't scary," says Justin softly, his hand moving up JC's thigh. "You SAYING that stuff ... that was scary. Look ... I'm doing what I want to be. And I hope you are, too."

"They *were* scary," JC disagrees, then gasps quietly as Justin's hand moves higher. He's marginally surprised and overwhelmingly thankful that his cock is responding to thr nearness of Justin's fingers. "Don't you ever do something like this because you feel like you have to prove anything to anybody. Not even yourself."

"Okay," says Justin, smiling at him as he squeezes his thigh. "I promise. I'm being selfish and doing this for me. And maybe a little bit for you, too ... "

"Maybe a little?" JC repeats, trying to sit still until Justin gives him some clue about what he's doing, how he wants him to sit, or lay, or whatever. "Okay. If this is your idea of being selfish, we're gonna get along good."

"Fina-fuckin-ly," says Justin, moving up higher still. "Just ... keep me informed, here. Let me know if everything's good."

"You're punchy, baby boy," gasps JC, his eyes squeezing shut. "Sure you aren't suffering from low blood sugar, or something, and need to eat first?"

"I OFFERED to eat," says Justin. "But noooo, you wanted to be all hard to get." He grins, then tentatively cups JC's erection

"You're making me see the error of my ways," JC replies, his head swimming with leftover alcohol and an uncharacteristically aggressive Justin. Without hesitating, he covers Justin's hand with his own and presses down almost roughly, lifting his hips off the bed slightly as he does.

"Whoa!" says Justin, but he doesn't pull away. He thought this would be easy, coming on to JC, doing the stuff he'd kinda been imagining doing, but once again the reality turns out to be a bit more intimidating than he'd though. "Um, okay," he says, and squeezes lightly, moving his other hand to JC's face.

JC opens his eyes at Justin's exclamation and pulls back. "No, not okay. Let's just ... postpone this, seriously. When you've eaten, and slept on it, and I've ... brushed my teeth, or something."

"Shit," says Justin. "Why do you keep STOPPING me?" He sits up, crossing his arms over his chest. "Fuck. Either you want someone more experienced, who just KNOWS how to get you off ... or you want to start fresh and deflower a virgin." He sighs. "And I guess I'm neither."

JC falls back on the bed, his hand reaching down to adjust himself. "Justin," he sighs patiently, "I want YOU." And he's realizing that it's the truth, that he DOES want him, more than he thought he did; how can he resist someone who looks like that, who's willing to take care of him, and who seemingly will forgive him anything? He's not stupid. But he also isn't convinced that Justin's ready to do this, and JC *knows* he isn't capable of handling another 'episode' afterwards. Even still ... touching himself, he can't *believe* what he's about to say. "I really do want you, 'cause you're kinda BOTH of those things ... you ARE a virgin, and I bet you DO know how to get me off. It's just ... I'm not GOING anywhere, okay? There's no rush."

"I'm not a virgin anymore," mutters Justin, slowly uncrossing his arms. "Not in my head. That's already yours, JC. And I believe I already TOLD you that my ass is HARDLY virginal." He drops his voice even lower, to barely audible. "You've pretty much already had that, too." He sighs, then, and licks his lips. "Look, I'm gonna look kinda nervous no matter WHEN we do this, okay? You can't just keep STOPPING me because I don't seem completely comfortable. I'm not going to be. I've never fucking FONDLED someone before, let alone blown them. But that DOESN'T mean I'm not having any fucking FUN, okay?"

JC considers that, Justin's tone seemingly in complete contradiction with the words coming out of his mouth, torn between which to believe. If he listens to what Justin's *saying*, he'll get what will likely be pretty eager head, and take care of his pesky erection. But he also runs the risk of Justin freaking out in the middle, leaving him hard for the second time today. "Look, Justin. You shouldn't be nervous. You've already touched me, earlier, remember? Regardless, I'm stopping you because it seems like that's not why you're uptight."

Justin nods, slowly. "You mind telling me why you think I'm uptight, then? NOT that I think I'm being uptight. YOU'RE the one that stopped me, after all." The arms threaten to recross, but he stops them, leaving his body a little more open to JC.

JC presses his hand against his cock again, rolling his hips on the bed slightly, then turns on his side to face Justin. "I just don't think it's performance anxiety, is all. You're not the type. I think somewhere in the back of your head, you still aren't sure this is what you want. And on top of THAT, I think you're still mad at me. I don't want to be another one of your firsts that you already regret."

"Yeah," admits Justin. "I'm still mad at you. But I think maybe that's going to happen a lot, so ... " He shrugs, then sighs. "I'm not having *performance anxiety*, C. I'm telling YOU not to worry if I get unsure once in a while, because I AM unsure of what I'm doing and I'm going to have to fumble a bit before I figure it out." He lifts his hand and places it on JC's hip. "But fine, okay, let's not have another first right now. Can we at least make out a little?"

"No, we definitely can't do that," JC falls back on his back again. "I totally need to brush my teeth. I can't believe you're remotely attracted to me right now, anyway ... that's another reason I'm not sure why you're pushing this so much." More and more, JC is becoming convinced that Justin's trying to push himself into this, to get it over with. If he really wanted to make sure that *JC* was the one confortable with the fumbling, then he wouldn't have freaked out when JC had tried to encourage him with his hand.

"I haven't SHOWERED," mutters Justin. "That's not stopping me." He snickers a bit. "Maybe it should, huh. Look, I AM still attracted to you. You haven't done anything today that I haven't seen, felt or smelled a hundred times before. But if you're THAT worried about it ... come take a shower with me or something. I'm not really ready to leave you alone right now anyway."

"Oh, why, 'cause you still think you know better than me whether I'm feeling okay?" JC asks, rubbing his eyes. "Nevermind, forget it. A shower sounds good. As long as you realize I'll be naked?" It may not be anything Justin hasn't seen, felt, or smelled before, but it certainly wasn't under any pretenses of romance, either. Although he's a little reluctant for Justin to get in with him -- both 'cause of the touching, and because Justin smells ... good, right now. Tangy boy-sweat, and cum that he now infers wasn't leftover from this morning but from some time later.

"Because I"m worried that you're going to slip in the shower and hit your head," says Justin simply, sighing. "I'm somewhat justified, C. You've done it before. And it certainly won't be the FIRST time I've showered you after a binge." He gets up off the bed, holds his hand out to JC. "C'mon, back to the bathroom with us. Besides ... I REALLY need it. I'm pretty skanky right now." He runs a hand through his hair, then down his body from chest to groin again and grimaces.

JC puts one hand in Justin's, but somewhat unexpectedly lets his other fingers trace the path left by Justin's hand on his torso. "Not skanky," he says softly, licking his lips, then shakes his head and looks up, grinning. "Hmm? You've done this before? You've gotten me naked and copped feels on your defenseless, inebriated friend?"

"Yeah," says Justin dryly. "I violated your drooling, stumbling, stinking body while I washed away the vomit and liquor. Right." He tugs on JC's arm and grins a little. "Come on, moron, let's get cleaned up." He's actually more secure now that JC's teasing him, feels less like he's JC's little puppy dog -- coming back for more and more kicks -- and more in control of himself again. More like the equal he NEEDS to be. And JC's touch actually feels good, just at the moment, in ways he knows it WOULDN'T feel good it it were anyone other than JC.

Letting himself be pulled to his feet, JC stands a little closer to Justin than he needs to, and leaves his other hand on his stomach. "Oh, but there's something different about my drooling, stumbling, stinking body NOW that makes you want to suck me? You're a strange one, Timberlake. I'm keeping my eye on you."

"You're not drooling," Justin points out, running his thumb along JC's lower lip. "And I've grown used to the smells. And really, what does stumbling matter if you aren't standing up?" He grins a little bit, cheekily, and tugs on JC's hand again -- the one he's holding, NOT the one still laying against his stomach. "Don't do anything to piss me off, okay? I'd really like us to get somewhere this time."

JC desperately wants to take Justin's thumb into his mouth, even more turned on by what is probably the boldest gesture he's made since their first kiss, but lets Justin just trace along his lip at his own pace. "I think our next step is working on your idea of talking dirty," he replies wryly. "But I will certainly TRY not to piss you off. Even though I may demand an explanation of what it is you think I'll be doing in this shower such that I won't be standing up ...?"

"It's not like foreplay has ever included TALKING for me, before," mutters Justin, looking down for a moment. "I don't HAVE to convince myself to be turned on." He looks up at JC's face again, smiles. It almost looks shy. "And you LEAN in the shower. Against the wall. After all ... I can't hold you up while I'm rubbing soap all over your damn body, now can I?" His hand moves around to cup the back of JC's neck and he leans forward, lightly brushing his lips against JC's. "Now come on. You DO smell. Almost as much as I do."

Blinking at the kiss, JC pulls back before Justin has any ideas about surprising him with another one. "You first," he mumbles, reluctantly pulling his own hand away from the soft, slightly sticky skin on Justin's torso and nudging him to turn around, pressing up against his back. "And I know you can tell you don't have to convince me to be turned on, either." JC just can't tell whether to attribute it to Justin's smell, the sight of him in boxers, the feel of his finger on his lips ... he just knows it's only made worse by the mental image of him stroking his body with a washcloth.

Justin smiles a little again as he tugs JC along behind him, careful to go slow enough that JC doesn't stumble or trip -- over his own feet or Justin's or anything else between the bedroom and the bathroom "You just like watching my ass, don't you," he comments teasingly as JC trails along behind. When they're inside the bathroom he closes the door, picks the glass and the washcloth up off the floor -- the last of the reminders of why they'd been in here earlier -- and places them by the sink. "Just give me a minute," he says, letting go of JC's hand to get a couple of fresh towels and a washcloth out of the cabinet.

"Take your time," JC says idly. He *hadn't* been watching Justin's ass, but he sure is now, the younger man bent over at the waist, digging around under the sink. He reaches over him to grab his toothbrush, then steps a little closer to turn on the faucet, his leg brushing against Justin's side. It feels good to brush his teeth, although as always he has to be careful when he spits so he doesn't gag again. He also takes the opportunity to grab another couple of Advil, swallowing quickly before looking back down at Justin on his knees at his feet, trying not to let his mind wander too much. "Um ... did you say you were gonna get in, too? Or are we taking turns?"

"Of course I'm getting in," says Justin as he stands up, almost uncomfortably close to JC. "How else am I supposed to get you washed, make sure you don't take a nose-dive into the tub." He looks at JC's mouth, wipes a bit of toothpaste away from the corner. "Ah, you brushed your teeth, good," he says. It's in part because JC's breath is tolerable now, and in part because he managed to do it without gagging. It's a good sign. "Can I kiss you now? Do I have to ask, to do that?"

JC's tongue darts out to lick at the spot that Justin just wiped away, blushing a little. "I have no idea how this usually works," JC admits, wondering how it's possible he never remembers getting in the shower with Justin, drunk or not. "Are -- are you taking off your clothes, too?" He ducks his head and starts unbuttoning his own shirt, for lack of something else to do, although he keeps one hand on the sink for balance. "And you know you don't have to ask to kiss me. I don't think you've bothered to ask yet, at least."

"Yeah," says Justin, "and you pull away almost every time, so the question bears asking." He strips off his own boxer shorts before he can lose his nerve. "Of course I'm taking my clothes off," he adds. "It's kinda hard to shower with them on." A moment later he reaches out and helps JC get the shirt back off again. "Not that they couldn't us a good wash, too," he admits, more to fill the awkward silence than anything.

JC grasps both of Justin's hands in one of his as the other man starts to push the shirt off his shoulders, steps closer, and licks slowly up his neck and over his chin. Then, eyes open, he presses his lips against Justin's, sucking on them gently before falling back against the counter. "I do NOT pull away almost every time," he says mildly, looking away. "Help me with my jeans?"

"Okay, not that time," mumbles Justin, busying his hands with JC's jeans and being almost as clumsy as JC himself. So much for being cool and collected about this whole thing. He lets go for a moment and takes a couple of deep breaths, regaining control of himself and his responses to JC. He lifts his eyes again to meet JC's; the other man looks like he's smirking at him, just a little. He pokes JC on the nose with his fingertip. "Let me by," he says softly, reaching down to unbutton JC's jeans before he goes. "I need to start the water for you."

"No," JC says, leaning back a little further but not enough to let Justin pass in front of him, his voice still light. He kicks a still-covered leg out. "You need to take the rest of my clothes off." He's concentrating on keeping up a confident facade, even though there's some nagging anxiety about Justin seeing him naked, aroused for the first time. Even when he had touched JC this morning, his boxers had been on the whole time. "*I* was perfectly capable of unbuttoning them."

Justin sighs, rolls his eyes at JC teasingly and drops to his knees in front of him. He pulls JC's jeans and boxers down in one smooth motion, and coaxes JC to lift one leg, then the other, to pull them off. After he shoves them aside with his own discarded clothing, he looks up again and finds himself face to face with JC's erection for the first time. His breath hitches and he licks his lips unconsciously. "Umm," he stammers after a moment. "I think I'd better start that shower, now ... "

"Are you sure?" JC asks, his voice low, watching Justin's reaction carefully. Keeping one hand on the counter behind him, he brushes the other through Justin's hair, pulling him gently closer to his body. He can feel Justin's breath on his naked groin, and his legs still tingle from where his hot hands had touched him. His cock twitches as he thinks about what those hands might feel like, other places, and every reason he had for not wanting to do this with Justin right now seems to have dissolved into thin air. "I guess you *could* start the shower, if you think we won't get dirty again ..."

Justin exhales softly and brings his hands up to the backs of JC's knees, cupping them firmly. His eyes flutter closed as his tongue flicks out to taste the tip of JC's erection. It's almost an involutary action, encouraged by JC's hand in his hair, by JC's body slouching towards him. He realizes he could lose himself in this as easily as he could lose himself on the receiving end. "Maybe we can wait ... " he manages to whisper, his eyes still closed, trailing the point of his nose from the base of JC's cock to the head before letting his lips close around the very tip of it.

JC bites his lip roughly, determined not to say anything to embarrass himself as if it was the first time this was happening to *him*. Although, with the gentle way that Justin is touching him, it's almost like it is. He hasn't taken his eyes off of Justin's face, and now he's fixated with the natural way the younger man's mouth fits over his cock -- Justin's earlier comment about addiction making more and more sense. Feeling a little more steady with Justin's hands holding tightly to his legs, JC brings his other hand up to Justin's face, trailing fingers down his jaw, cupping his chin lightly.

Justin doesn't even stop to ask if he's doing it right, doesn't WONDER if he's doing it right. One hand still firmly supporting JC's knee, he brings the other up to cup his balls as he sucks tenderly at the head of his cock. There's been nothing he's done before that's even come close to feeling like this, and right now he's exploring more than anything else. Discovering new tastes and textures and sensations. Everything he does right now is turning him on as much as it seems to be arousing JC. He slides the whole head into his mouth and uses his tongue to trace around the rim, to feel along the slit, to lap delicately at the sensitive underside.

Starting to pant a little when Justin's hand ventures to his balls, JC still swallows his groans at the ministrations from Justin's tongue. Unfortunately, he realizes as he continues to caress Justin's cheek, guilt is one of those emotions that, for him, won't be supressed and can fight through almost anything -- including inebriation and lust ... and it seems hell-bent on doing so right now. Guilt about Justin seemingly taking more time and care doing this to JC than JC had done to him; guilt about making Justin kneel on the floor of the damn bathroom to do it; guilt about abandoning all the reasons he had constructed not to do this today. It's just that Justin's mouth feels so fucking *good*, and he wants to feel more ...

Justin rolls JC's balls in his hand for a long moment, feeling their weight and the soft, soft skin that surrounds them, then moves his fingers up to begin stroking the parts of JC's cock that aren't in his mouth. He's moved his mouth a little further down to envelop more of it, but knows instintictively that he can't fit much more in, not this first time, and he could do a lot better with just his tongue and lips at the head than choking on it further inside his throat. He feels warm all over as he sucks and licks at him, and doesn't let a single other thought enter his head, completely focused on bringing JC to orgasm, on learning everything he can through his mouth and his fingertips about what it's like to be with another man.

Really frozen by indecision, it finally gets to the point where JC couldn't stop Justin if he wanted to. Which might have been his intent all along, he figures, gasping as Justin's fingers wrap around his shaft a little more forcefully. Maybe in the back of his head, he knew that rejecting Justin once he had started would probably crush him. He'll just have to make up for his sore knees somehow, he thinks, giving in and slumping back against the sink. "Fuck, Justin," he lets himself say, then, not too far gone that he doesn't admire the way the younger man seems completely aware of what he's capable of doing his first time.

Justin begins sucking a little harder at the sound of his name falling off JC's lips and the feel of JC's fingers moving restlessly through his hair. He uses his lips and hand to caress up and down the shaft, trying to hit all the points that he knows will get HIM off, and doesn't stop to wonder if they might be different on someone else. His eyes never open as he strokes JC surely, his tongue still alive on the hot, solid flesh.

JC interprets Justin's more desperate pace as an indication that he's ready for him to come. Even though it feels incredible, and all of the alcohol he's consumed means he could last twice as long, he's sensitive to not taking advantage of what Justin's offering, still wanting him to enjoy this as much as he can. And if that means coming before he can't hold it in any more, that's what he'll do. And if it means not coming in his mouth, THAT'S what he'll do, too. "Justin," he says softly, still panting slightly, tugging on his curls tenderly. "I'm gonna come, baby boy. Why don't you stop, huh?"

Justin is barely aware of JC speaking, he's so consumed by this personal voyage of discovery. He can feel the way JC's muscles move, the way his groin tightens, and teaches himself to read those responses, to discover what they mean and what JC wants him to do when his body makes them. And they are definitely NOT saying stop. He lets his lips slide off only to whisper, needily, "Let me," before he takes JC into his mouth again, shallowly, sucking and licking at the head again as his hand moves along the shaft with ever-accellerating strokes.

"Fuck, okay," JC hisses, knowing he did what he had to, but recognizing that letting Justin do this is also going on his list of things to have to be all repentent about. He lets one hand drift to the nape of Justin's neck, the other cups his face again, as if touching him there will force him to be gentle and keep him from thrusting. It works, anyhow, as his orgasm hits; the strength and tension that's evident in his hips as he restrains himself is in complete contrast to the delicate way he caresses the light stubble on Justin's jaw. "Fuck," he grits out again, and finally lets his eyes drift shut as the spasms wrack his body.

Despite his warning, Justin is surprised when JC starts coming -- interrupting his flow -- and it's a moment before he begins swallowing. A drop of come escapes his throat and leaks out the corner of his mouth as he gently sucks at JC's cock until it begins to go limp, stops shooting warms streams into his mouth. He caresses the backs of JC's thighs with his hands as his tongue glides over the head, tasting the last droplets and licking him clean. His eyes are still closed as he lets JC's spent cock slide out of his mouth; they don't open until he rises from his knees, stands face to face with JC again. His cheeks are flushed and his lips shiny, that single droplet of come still at the corner of his mouth.

"Mmmm, fuck," JC says one more time, letting his chin fall to his chest as his heartbeat slows. A small, residual shudder travels up his spine before he lifts his head and opens his eyes to look at Justin standing in front of him. He's beautiful; even more so than when JC had sucked him off, and so ... innocent, still. JC takes advantage of the fact that his palm is still gripping the back of Justin's neck and pulls him closer, letting his tongue lap at the errant cum before snaking inside Justin's mouth. His own taste is heady on Justin's lips; it's been a long time since someone gave him head for some reason other than foreplay, and thus a long time since JC's sampled it.

Justin kisses him back, still somewhat dazed, and is suddenly overwhelmed by the whole thing, by the feelings inside him, by what he's just DONE, for the first time. When they end the kiss, mutually, after a long while, he looks down, closes his eyes, presses an insistent hand to the small of JC's back. "Into the shower with you," he says softly.

JC licks his lips, shaking his head and backing up against the sink once more, wincing at the cold tile of the counter top against his skin. He pins Justin's hands to his hips and leans in to kiss him, wanting to taste the unique combination of his cum and Justin's tongue again. "I'm not trying to be difficult," he murmurs into his mouth, "but no fucking way. Can't you see I'm busy trying to demonstrate my appreciation?"

Justin sighs into JC's mouth, tears beginning to stream out of his eyes, melting into both his and JC's cheeks and lips as they kiss. "Just trying to save myself some embarassment," he whispers, and then kisses him again.

JC gasps and pulls back, more at the feel of Justin's tears than his words. He narrows his eyes and glares at him, before bringing his arms up between them and pushing Justin up against the opposite wall -- pressing his naked body against Justin's, feeling either the beginnings or the remnants of his erection before he attacks his mouth again roughly. "What is this," he asks between kisses, in a soft voice that doesn't match the controlled anger of his actions, scraping his thumbs against Justin's wet cheeks. "What the fuck is this, Justin."

"JC," says Justin desperately. "Stop. Please. Don't do this." He pushes back against JC's body, tries to meet his eyes. "We talked about this JC, remember? I'm crying because I really, really liked it, okay? There's *nothing wrong*. Nothing wrong, JC. So just ... be a little gentler? For right now?" He pulls his hands away from JC's body and brings them up to his own face, pulling JC's hands away firmly and wiping away his own tears, then wiping gently at the wetness he's left on JC's face.

JC bats Justin's hands away from his face, but stops leaning on him, too. "Nothing wrong, huh?" he repeats, still calmly even though his eyes are stormy. "Yeah, you 'really, really liked it,' that's why you're fucking *embarrassed* that you did it." The guilt is just *consuming* JC at this point; he can't believe he can bear to *look* at Justin.

"I'm embarassed because I'm crying, JC," he says softly, looking him in the eye. His eyes are watery now, but tears are no longer falling. "Because I'm crying again because this is so AMAZING and overwhelming ... and I knew that would upset you. And I didn't want it to. Embarassed that I did it?" He leans foward, brushes a kiss across JC's lips. "Not in a million years."

JC accepts the kiss before turning his face away from Justin. He's angry: at Justin, for being so irresistible but still so *confused*, but mostly at himself. He knew, he *knew* that he was making a mistake doing this so soon with him, doing it when he knew he wouldn't be able to be accomodating when the intensity of making someone else come was too much for Justin. He fucking *knew* it, and he was weak about it anyway. But he can't let himself *be* angry, either, because that's what happened this morning -- and he is *not* going to do that to Justin again, especially not with him being so fucking adorably pleased with himself at the moment. He just doesn't know if he can be affectionate enough right now ...

Exhaling slowly, JC steps closer to Justin again, pretending he doesn't see the younger man wince when he raises his arms to wrap them around his waist. "Thank you," he murmurs into his neck, both because it needs to be said and because he can't say how frustrated and confused he is.

"JC?" says Justin tentatively, running his hands down JC's back. "Tell me it was good, okay? Tell me you'd want me to do that again. Tell me you liked my lips on your cock and my hands on your skin and my tongue all over you. Tell me you liked me on my knees. Because, JC ...? I loved being there."

JC pushes Justin against the wall again, but this time languidly, seductively, fitting his body in between Justin's legs. His words strike a chord with JC, alleviating some of the guilt he feels. Some of it. "I want you to do that, always," he says, after kissing him deeply again. "Just not in the bathroom. God, Justin, I'm so sorry."

"You have something against the bathroom?" says Justin, relief flooding his voice. "And what the hell are you SORRY for, anyway?"

"The bathroom," JC gestures aimlessly. "Your knees. All of it. *I* don't know."

Justin grins, taps JC's face with his hand teasingly. "What part of 'loved it' is challenging you?"

JC smiles gratefully in response before leaning his head on Justin's chest. "I don't know," he blushes. "It's just not how you pictured it, I bet."

"I didn't picture it in a bathroom, no," admits Justin, realizing how much he's enjoying JC's body, now, pressed up against his. That that boundary that he has around him, permanently -- the one he chooses to let people through, sometimes -- is just GONE, right now. He isn't even trying. "But I don't regret it. It was ... nice." He struggles not to let the memory overwhelm him again, not to freak JC out.

"No regrets, that's good," JC murmurs, kissing Justin again, then cupping his face and kissing him deeply. "I didn't hurt you?"

"Hurt me?" Justin laughs. "Not unless your little buddy spurts acid," he says. "Shower?"

"My little buddy," JC repeats flatly, raising an eyebrow, not particularly pleased at being laughed at. "Shower, okay. Sure. Fine. Whatever."

Justin frowns and leans forward, kissing him again. "You call me baby boy," he says, smiling again. "I get to get some back, don't I?"

JC mutters something under his breath about what he can do with his little buddy before bending over and turning on the water in the shower himself. He straightens too quickly, though, and has to grab the wall to keep from falling against the tub.

Justin quickly reaches out to steady him. "Whoa," he says. "Easy there. Let me get that." He leans over to adjust the temperature, then helps JC get under the spray.

"Okay, okay," JC bats at his hands sullenly, clutching the wall and picking up the soap. "I'm fine. Cut it out."

"Well," says Justin. "*I'm* still having fun. Why aren't you?" He looks at JC with genuine curiosity, wondering where the HELL this bad mood came from.

"I'm fine," JC frowns, turning to face the wall when Justin climbs in. "I just don't get you. I'm not gentle enough, one second, and then I try to be considerate and you fucking laugh it off. Just ... can you give me a second?"

"Well, I cry when I'm happy," says Justin reasonably, "and I also LAUGH when I'm happy. I emote, okay? Just ... get used to that and we're going to have a wonderful sex life. Now I'd REALLY like to have my naked body and YOUR naked body together in the shower, so unless you have any objections ... ?" He pauses then, giving JC the second he's asking for.

"Just *hush*," JC says, ducking his head under the water and shutting his eyes tightly. His headache's still simmering, despite the advil, and Justin is acting all manic again. Plus he's really *insulted* that he tried to do what Justin asked, only to find it wouldn't have mattered. Maybe he should have just fucked his mouth for an hour after all, and gotten the same result.

"Okay," says Justin quietly, backing off a little. He watches warily as JC stands under the warm spray, making sure he doesn't start tilting and wondering just what he'd done wrong this time. But he doesn't ask. JC doesn't seem to like it when he asks.

JC opens his eyes again when Justin speaks, and bites his lip, knowing he's not helping anything by sulking. "C'mere," he says finally, holding out his arms. "Come get under the water or you're gonna freeze."

Justin moves a little closer again, getting under the shower spray. He runs a hand through JC's hair, making sure it's thoroughly wet. "Don't fall," he says softly in JC's ear, wrapping an arm around him.

Letting his head tilt back under Justin's hand, JC gives him a tentative smile. "You haven't let me, yet," he says softly, then wraps his arms around him and nuzzles his nose.

"I don't plan to," says Justin, kissing him softly. "I need to learn how to be a little more stable about this," he acknowledges, looking JC in the the eye. "And YOU need to learn to have more fun." He grins at him, still feeling comfortable. Still feeling safe, that JC has obviously been going through a bit of a downslide, but HASN"T lashed out at him.

"Okay," JC admits, fighting an urge to pin Justin up against the tile of the shower after the kiss, but unable to help his smile spreading across his face. "I believe you promised me something about rubbing my body ... ?"

"To WASH you," says Justin, rolling his eyes. "You're filthy." He looks down at his body at the rivulets of water running down it. "Huh. I should talk, though." He grabs the soap, begins working up a lather, then grins wickedly.

"I'm not *that* bad," JC protests, backing up as far as he can, looking at Justin warily. "Hmm. What're you doing, with that?"

Justin soaps up JC's chest, teasing his nipples a little. "I'm not used to you being so alert when I'm lathering you," he says honestly. "I like this ... "

"You lie," JC exclaims, hissing a little as his nipples harden under Justin's fingers. "You won't get to violate me, this way."

"I can't violate you?" says Justin, sounding innocent. "It seems only fair ... "

JC grabs Justin's hands before they can drift lower, and snatches the soap out of his grip. "How come?" he asks, kissing Justin's shoulder. "What the heck did *I* do?"

"You violated me," says Justin softly. "But only in the BEST ways possible. Now let me wash you, C." His wrists are firmly in JC's grip, though.

"Nope," JC says, pulling Justin's arms around his own waist and holding them behind his back, then leaning foreward and kissing his throat. "I'm not sure why we're in here in the first place. Maybe you can tell me, *after* you explain how I violated you. Which has negative connotations, no matter how nicely you try to phrase it."

Justin sighs. "I was teasing you. Because of what we were talking about before ... " He moans softly as JC kisses his neck. "How can you not be sure why we're here, anyway?" "I mean here," JC gestures with his head at the shower around them, before leaning back down and nipping at Justin's collarbone. "Not *here*. We could be doing *this* elsewhere. And ... you sure you were teasing? Your voice had that kind of breathy, I'm-saying-something-meaningful quality about it."

Justin looks at him seriously. "Are you sure you want to have this conversation NOW?" he asks.

"Yes," JC says simply, feeling guilty and a little masochistic from overreacting earlier. He lets go of Justin's hands and turns around. "I'll even let you wash my back while you're telling me about it."

Justin pauses, then begins lathering up the soap again, running his hands over JC's back. "You're not going to take this the way it's intended," he says with resignation. "But can I say first of all ... it had NOTHING to do with violation, not really. It was just a...a convenient reference."

"Okay, that's fair," JC exhales, his chin falling to his chest as Justin's broad palms caress his skin. "You're not worried about me getting mad, are you? I don't have it in me right now."

"Yeah," says Justin. "I AM worried you're going to get mad. Shouldn't I be?" He sighs again, still running his hands over JC's slippery skin.

"Well," JC, before moaning a bit as Justin rubs over a spot that JC must have bruised somewhere, "since I don't know what you're going to tell me...?"

"You DID take my innocence," says Justin simply as he washes JC's back.

"Ah," JC says, leaning forward and places his hands on the wall of the shower. "Yes, I can see how I might have interpreted that poorly. Want to explain how that's supposed to be a good thing?"

"You helped, anyway," says Justin. "And it was long before I lost my virginity to you. And I DID, JC, no matter what you want to call it."

JC looks back over his shoulder at Justin briefly, blinking water out of his eyes, before facing the wall again. "Okay, I'll bite," he says softly. "How did I manage to do that?"

"Just by living. Growing. Drinking. Fucking. Partying. Swearing. Using. Just ... everything I learned from all of you," says Justin. He can't keep his hands away from JC right now, as he speaks. "Everyone loses their innocence some time, JC. It's nothing to feel guilty about. And I KNOW you are."

Turning around slowly to face Justin again, JC stares at the floor of the tub. "And how that's a good thing?" he repeats, only slightly surprised that Justin knows him well enough to recognize that *would* make him feel guilty.

"I didn't say it was a GOOD thing," says Justin. "It's just a ... thing. And I miss innocence, sometimes." His hands are flat against JC's chest now. "Don't you?"

"No," JC frowns. "I like knowing what I know. And you did say it was a good thing, or close enough. You said I violated you in the best ways possible. So...?"

"Oh," says Justin. "Well by THAT I was referring to the blowjob." He grins a little bit, curling his fingers against JC's chest.

"Yours or mine?" JC asks huskily, flexing his pecs a little, happy to not be talking about innocence and whatever-the-hell-else.

"Both," says Justin. "Definitely both."

"Mmm," JC nods, looking down Justin's body slowly, then turning back around. "Fair enough. Okay, get on with it, baby boy. We're about to run out of hot water."

Justin frowns a little, then begins quickly soaping up JC's whole body. He does linger at his ass, though, lathering it a lot longer than necessary.

JC arches his back into Justin's touch a little, feeling the stirrings of an erection and wondering whether to submit to them. "I think you got that spot," he teases over his shoulder, winking at Justin despite the somewhat unhappy look on the younger man's face.

"I like to be thorough," says Justin, sliding a finger down the crack, but doesn't linger.

Sucking in a breath, JC closes his eyes and counts to ten before turning back around. "Your turn?" he asks lightly.

Justin stands up, runs his hands over JC's chest one more time. "But I was having fun ... " he says. He's warm and comfortable, and it's not just a feeling on the outside of him, right now.

"I'll let you do it again sometime, I promise," JC purrs, grabbing the soap and lathering up his own hands, before placing them on top of Justin's and running them along the length of his arms up to his shoulders. He leans in and kisses him. "I'll let you take care of me every time, if you want," he murmurs against Justin's lips.

"It's what I'm good at," murmurs Justin as they kiss. He realizes that has many, many layers of meanings, but he also realizes that he means them all.

"You are," JC agrees, walking Justin backward against the far wall and ducking his head to suck on his neck again. Somehow, for some reason, being naked in the shower with Justin is making him more comfortable about being aggressive. Like there's an added layer of protection that things won't go too far.

Justin grins. "This isn't going to get me clean," he protests mildly, his hands snaking around JC's back. He realizes that JC is acting more or less sober, for the first time in a while.

"I didn't want you to in the first place," JC admits, laying his palms flat on the tile behind Justin's back. "You smelled good to me, the way you were."

"I smelled like cum," says Justin, pushing back against him a little.

"Right, *your* cum," JC clarifies slowly, not budging. "So, in other words: 'good.' I know you tasted good, too."

Justin blushes a bit, but it's all but invisible considering his skin is already reddened from the hot water. "You seriously thought I smelled good?"

"Yes," JC whispers, leaning forward again, trapping Justin inside his arms. "You smelled sweaty and sexy and like what we did this morning, and all it did was make me want to take you back to bed and do it again." *If I didn't have this fucking headache,* he thinks as he licks up the side of Justin's shoulder again. "You didn't like the way I smell after I come?"

"The way you smell after you come is great," says Justin. "The way you smell after you puke? Not so much." Justin brings his hands up against JC's chest, pinches his nipples lightly. "Are you going to wash me or what? I'm *sticky*."

"Are you gonna let me get you dirty again?" JC asks in response, but brings the soap up to Justin's chest anyway and starts scrubbing gently. Justin's wet skin is deliciously soft, and idly JC tries to remember if he's ever taken the time to bathe someone else. He ducks out of the way of the spray but keeps Justin pressed against the wall, letting the water rinse the suds from his chest and torso.

"Do you WANT to get me dirty again?" Justin asks right back. He closes his eyes as JC's soapy hands run over his skin. "God, that's nice ... " he whispers. "You want me to wash your hair for you, C, or would that be too weird, considering how conscious you are at the moment?" Usually, by this point, JC is slumped over ... if he wasn't to begin with. Justin also usually has his clothes on.

JC tugs on one of Justin's wet curls and smiles. "Is that what you normally do? I wouldn't know if it was weird, but you can try. But I'm warning you, I cry like a baby if I get shampoo in my eyes." He turns his back to Justin and tilts his head slightly before speaking again. "I can't decide if I like getting you dirty or clean better, actually."

"I know you do," says Justin softly, touching JC's face. "I've done this many times, remember?" He grabs the shampoo, moves to the other side of JC again. "You know ... you can get me clean and dirty as many times as you want ... " And right now, he means it.

Smiling, JC closes his eyes and lets Justin duck his head under the water again. "Thank you," he says softly, hoping Justin can tell he means that for all the times he's washed him before, not just for the offer of letting him return the favor. "But you'll turn into a prune from all the showers if I do it as many times as I want, Justin."

Justin laughs. "This coming from the guy I had to coax in here?" he says, moving their heads out of the stream of water so he can begin to gently lather JC's hair. Right then, in that moment, may possibly have been the most intimate he'd ever been -- physically and emotionally -- with anyone. "I'm willing to let you try, though ... "

"You didn't have to coax me in here," JC disagrees, grinning impishly with his eyes still squeezed shut. "I just had something I had to take care of, first." He nuzzles his head back into Justin's hands lazily, enjoying the sensation, enjoying being pampered, wondering if the way Justin felt about him meant that he'd do stuff like this for him a lot.

"Don't you mean *I* had something to take care of?" teases Justin as he nudges JC"s head under the spray. "Keep your eyes closed, C." He's enjoying the feeling of just being able to touch him, without boundaries. It makes it easier for he, himself, to keep from placing boundaries on what JC can do to HIM. "Okay, tilt your head back .. " He keeps his hands in JC's hair long after they need to be.

Tiny drops of water drip from JC's eyelashes onto his cheeks as he faces Justin, and his smile wavers a little when the other man doesn't move or say anything for a moment. He shivers a little as the shower gets slightly colder. "Justin? Can I open them?"

"Yeah, it's safe," murmurs Justin, running his hands down JC's neck to his shoulders, now. A moment later he's looking into JC's eyes, and he smiles. "All clean," he says, then presses a finger to the tip of JC's nose.

JC grins broadly again, blinking rapidly. "Thank you. I feel better." And he does; even his headache is starting to wane, and he feels steadier on his feet. He reaches behind Justin to turn the faucet a little hotter, and then pulls on his hair a little. "Your turn?"

Justin reaches past JC for the shampoo again. "That would be really nice," he admits, "but you don't have to. My hair's tough to deal with at the best of times." He squints at JC's face. "You feeling better? You LOOK better." With the foggy bathroom and their bodies so close together he hadn't really worried about not being able to see well, but now he wishes he could make out the nuances of JC's expression.

"I just *said* I felt better," JC rolls his eyes, grabbing the bottle away from Justin, blushing a little at the scrunity with which Justin's examining him. "At least enough so I can wash your hair, if that's okay?" He squirts some of the shampoo into his palm and then looks back up at Justin, more unsure about touching him possessively now that he's sobering up some.

"Yeah," says Justin, still squinting at him, "but you've been saying that all along. I wanted to be SURE." He tilts his head back as JC runs his fingers through his hair, shampoo in his other palm. "I'd really like that, JC," he adds, and closes his eyes. "I like it when you're nice to me."

JC bites his lip, concentrating on working the shampoo through Justin's curls without tangling them between his fingers and yanking accidentally. "What?" he murmurs distractedly. "I'm always nice to you."

"You know what I mean," says Justin. "Niiiice, to me, in that feelssogood way. Like this." He reaches out blindly, runs his hands over JC's hips and ass. "I mean ... you KNOW no one's ever done this for me before ... 'cept maybe my momma."

"Shit," JC stumbles into Justin after jumping a bit at the sudden contact with his skin. "Behave," he admonishes him, squinting a bit and wiping away some shampoo that's threatening to run into Justin's eyes with the outside of his wrist. He brushes a kiss over the spot before stepping backward again. "This isn't easy."

"Yeah, TELL me about it," says Justin, grinning at him, his eyes still closed. "You're doing a good job though. I'll tell you this much ... I don't usually get turned on when I'm washing my OWN hair ... " He squeezes JC's ass briefly before bringing his hands back up to his waist.

JC hisses when Justin grabs his ass again, remembering what it felt like for the brief second that he had let his finger trail along the crevice between earlier. He looks down, almost involuntarily, and is presented with the visual evidence that Justin *does* seem to get turned on when *JC* washes his hair, however. "Behave!" he scolds again, holding Justin's face gently between his hands and tilting his head back to rinse his hair under the stream of water. "I'm beginning to think that us trying to accomplish anything while in the bathroom together is a lost cause."

"Au contraire," says Justin. "I think we accomplished more in this bathroom than we did just about anywhere else. Wouldn't you agree?" One corner of his mouth twists up into a smile again as the water rushes over them. "I know it's been a learning experience for me, anyway. A good one. An unexpected one. A very, very nice one." He smacks a kiss at JC. "This whole sex thing? A very pleasant surprise, it is."

"Okay, Yoda," JC smirks, reaching behind Justin to shut off the water and slapping his butt gently as he straightens back up. "You're done." He smooths Justin's hair back off his forehead and waits for him to open his eyes. He's not *entirely* clear on what they've accomplished in there, but he figures Justin's referring more to their earlier conversation than JC getting head. "And you just KNOW I'm aching to say 'I told you so', right?"

Justin opens his eyes only to roll them. "Just say it already, okay?" he says, sighing dramatically. "And then hand me my towel before I freeze." He shivers involuntarily, but it emphasizes his point. "And when you're done with 'I told you so' you can segue right into what a moron I am for leaving my glasses in here while we showered. They're all foggy now." He looks towards JC, grins. "I guess I got a bit distracted, huh."

"Yes, well," JC says loftily as he steps out of the shower, tossing a towel back inside to Justin before wrapping another around his waist. "I have that effect, sometimes." He watches Justin intently as he wipes his naked body dry with the terrycloth, and chews on his lip. "As do you. Sometimes."

Justin laughs, openly. "Do I distract you, C?" he asks. "Do you mind, that I do?" He finishes scrubbing off his body and steps out of the shower onto the bathmat, still dripping, a little, his towel clutched in his hand. He's naked, and seems to be comfortably so. "Can you crack that door open, a little? There's no one else home, right?" He picks up his glasses, frowns at them, then waves them in the air a little before putting them on. At the moment, it's little better than going without.

JC shrugs and gropes behind him to open the door slightly, not taking his eyes off Justin. He has no idea if anyone else is home ... the last thing he remembers is sitting at the bar, but apparently he decided to cook dinner sometime after that, so it's entirely within the realm of possibility that he talked to one of the other guys. He smiles when Justin puts on his glasses, the bookish effect they have on his face not doing anything to distract from the purely sexual impact of his damp, muscular body. "Distracting's good," he swallows, wondering if Justin is trying to tease him, trying to decide if he'll let it work. "But I thought you were hungry, still?"

"Starving," admits Justin, wrinkling his nose. He finally wraps the towel around his waist, only mildly worried that someone else is home, that one of the guys is going to see him and JC leaving the bathroom together. They're all going to find out, sooner or later, he has to admit to himself. It can't remain their little secret much longer, and they can't live in a bubble of their own making. "Can we order something?" He doesn't TELL JC that he doesn't want him to cook anything, but the image of the burnt lasagna comes to mind.

JC holds the door open for Justin to step out, then bends over and picks up his discarded clothes and Justin's boxers from where he tossed them earlier. "You can do whatever you want," he says non-committally. "I'll be doing my best to hold down crackers. But I'll still sit with you, if that offer stands?"

Justin looks at him in surprise, wondering why JC would even CONSIDER, at this point, that Justin might not want him there. "Of course the offer stands," he says. "I'm not planning on eating alone, C." He's able to take a closer look at him now, see just how much of the alcohol has been sweated out of him. He looks reasonably sober, if not WELL. "Is there anything you'd rather I didn't order?" he asks. A moment later his head whips around, looking down the hallway in the other direction as he hears a door quietly shut. "Dammit," he says, under his breath.

"No, you're okay, whatever you want is fine." JC frowns as he follows Justin's gaze. "Who was that?" He's not sure why one of the guys seeing them -- if they even did -- warranted a curse, especially since JC recalls Justin explicitly telling him that they didn't need to keep ... whatever was going on between them ... a secret.

"Good," says Justin, turning back towards the kitchen again and away from the door. There's nothing he can do about it anyway, though them finding out THAT way, and not from being told, it going to heap that much MORE teasing onto him. Like they don't do that enough already. "I know when I'm -- " He glances at JC. " -- uh, not feeling good, there's a lot of stuff i just DON'T want to smell." Impulsively he reaches out for JC's hand, and wonders if he'll take it. "I don't know who that was, hon. It doesn't matter. They can get their OWN dinner."

"No, I'm used to it," JC frowns, grabbing Justin's hand but not moving from where he's standing. "Um. If you're all embarrassed about being with me, maybe we should get dressed before we're caught again and you have to explain it to someone else?" He's not sure if Justin *is* embarrassed, but his suddenly skulky behavior is raising warning flags in JC's head.

"No, no, I'm NOT embarassed," Justin insists, shaking his head. He grins at JC a little sheepishly. "I was just hoping to, you know, TELL them. Make some sort of proud announcement. Not get caught with my pants down." He chuckles a bit. "Not like they won't KNOW what we're doing, but ... I've never ... not before you ... and I'm not sure what to expect. You know?" He tugs JC in the direction of the kitchen with him and decides to check and see what's in the fridge before ordering anything. The wreck of the lasagna is still on the stove.

JC just shakes his head at Justin. If he's not concerned about being in the kitchen wrapped in a towel, JC sure as hell isn't going to be. "They're not going to care, Justin," he warns him, tagging along after him into the kitchen. He starts to chuckle when he sees the pan on the top of the stove. "Oh, jeez," he breathes, "Did I do that? What the fuck IS that?"

"Lasanga. I think," says Justin, looking at him sympathetically. "Thanks, though. For thinking of me." He runs his hand along JC's bare back, grinning a bit. He disagrees with him about the other, though -- they ARE going to care, and he's never faced them with anyone he's dating or sleeping with before, and he's NERVOUS about it, but JC obviously doesn't care so he won't harp on it. Not now. "Okay ... there's bread. I suppose I can manage a sandwich without doing too much damage."

JC manages to climb up onto the counter, watching Justin dig through the fridge. "Need any help?" he asks mildly, swinging his legs, trying desperately not to LOOK like he's just waiting for Justin to get out of his way so he can grab a beer. He eyes the lasagna warily. "I'm sure that would have been okay-tasting, had I not left it in there for about two hours too long."

"You're a good cook," says Justin easily as he stands up, mayonnaise in one hand and leftover chicken in the other. He sets them on the counter and grabs two Cokes out of the door of the fridge, handing one to JC and opening the other for himself. "Do you want some bread or something, hon? Or something else? You should probably eat SOMEthing ... " He takes a large gulp of the Coke, waiting for his reply.

"No, I ... no," JC says, staring dumbly at the coke in his hand like he has no idea what to do with it. Then he stares at Justin the same way after the use of the word 'hon.' And suddenly feels like he's having an out-of-body experience. He opens his mouth again when he sees the expectant look on Justin's face. "Um? I'll eat some pretzels later, or something."

Justin makes a face. "Well ... whatever," he says, not OVERLY concerned with JC's eating habits. He quickly puts together a sloppy sandwich, leaving bread crumbs and mayonnaise all over the counter. "I think there are some crackers in the cupboard by the stove, if Joey didn't eat them all." He has a subsconscious reaction to Joey's name, frowning a little, and looks back at his sandwich before taking a big bite.

"Joey doesn't like those crackers," JC says knowingly, then hops off the counter, scooping up Justin's crumbs as he does. He pulls open the fridge and sticks the mayonnaise and unopened coke back on the shelf, grabbing a bottle of beer before he closes the door and twisting off the cap in one smooth motion. He takes a swallow and lets the bottle dangle from his fingers as he leans against the appliance, yanking on his towel a little. "How's your sandwich?"

Justin eyes the beer but doesn't say anything. It's not like it's a SURPRISE to him, but it's still a disappointment. He's a realist, but in the back of his mind he'd always hoped that the prospect of being with him would make JC stop drinking. A little unspoken fantasy of his. "You make better sandwiches," he confesses, "but it's all right. Um ... maybe you can make that lasagna again another time? It probably would have been really good." *If you hadn't passed out while making it* he almost adds, but stops himself. Bitterness about that won't help ANYthing, and he knows it, and for once he CARES enough not to say it anyway.

JC doesn't understand how that little bit of praise from Justin can make him feel better than he has in a week, but it does, and it makes him feel bad for being unsettled at the comfortable way Justin had adopted a pet name for him without them really havin established *what* the nature of their relationship would be. He blushes and runs a hand through his still-damp hair. --->

"I'd love to," he says softly, picking at the wrapper on the beer bottle. "I can get some wine; it'll be like a real date."

Justin takes another bite of the sandwich and chews slowly. *Wine, of course,* he thinks, but doesn't say it. Wine IS somewhat romantic, after all, and isn't that what he wants? Deep down? Didn't he always want to think that emotional fulfilment would come with the physical, even if he never admitted it, even to himself? "That would be perfect," he says, hoping that's the right answer.

"Good," JC says, relieved, walking behind Justin to sit down with him at the table. "I hope it will be. You ... uh, deserve it, I think."

"You THINK?" says Justin, raising an eyebrow.

"No, you do," JC clarifies quickly, drinking a bit more of his beer. "For taking care of me today, and for the shitty way I treated you this morning, and just ... because sex should come with that, sometimes."

"What, dinner?" says Justin. "I wouldn't mind that." He polishes off the sandwich, licks his finters clean. "I like taking care of you," he says after a moment. "I just wish ... you were able to enjoy it more, when I do."

"No, not dinner," JC chuckles, standing up again and taking Justin's plate to the sink. "A date. Dat-ING. And what are you talking about, you want me to enjoy it more? I didn't want to ever get out of that shower."

Justin grins. "Me neither," he admits. "I just meant ... the other times. Before. Where I learned how to take care of you, hon." He brushes a hand over JC's face. "Are you saying you want to date me?"

Well, he certainly set himself up for THAT one. JC has NO idea what to say, having been asked point-blank ... predictably, he pulls back a little and swallows about half of his beer. "I thought you didn't want romance, Justin," he says quietly. "I was just saying that it's something you deserve, and should have, sometime. Y'know?"

Justin's face falls. He'd know that was coming, in some form or another, yet it still hit him like a punch to the gut. "Right," he says. He pushes the disapointment aside this time and chooses to focus on the fun they DID have ... and admit that it WAS fun, even if it never happens again. "Thanks. You want me to get those crackers? Toast, maybe?"

JC watches Justin's expression change with dismay. "Hey. Hey, Justin," he says, reaching out to touch Justin's forearm, to keep him from getting up to get him crackers or whatever. "Is that what *you* want? 'Cause I -- I didn't say no. Right?"

"I don't want to sound like a naive kid," mutters Justin. "Look, I know dating isn't realistic, all right? So it doesn't matter, whether I want it or not ... " He looks down and toys with the hem of his boxers.

"If you know it isn't realistic, then why did you *ask* me?" JC says, keeping his voice calm. "Maybe we're not talking about the same thing, here...?"

"I forgot, for a minute there," says Justin. "Thanks for reminding me, though. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"It's okay," JC soothes Justin, but he doesn't deny that's exactly what he did. He yawns suddenly, stretching his arms over his head. "I have NO clue what time it is," he remarks idly.

"Eight, maybe?" suggests Justin. "I'm sorry ... I don't know." He looks away, wishing he'd never said the fucking "d" work in the first place. He doesn't remember that it's JC who brougth it up.

"No shit?" JC says, yawning again. "God, I'm so fucking wrecked. And this towel," he plucks distastefully at the material on his thigh, "is all wet."

"Take if off, then," says Justin, but there's no sexual innuendo attached to it. "And yes, you ARE wrecked ... are you just noticing this?"

JC just sighs and stands up, yawning and arching his back. "Not, like, *drunk* ... just fucking *exhausted*. You don't even *know* what time I ..." JC trails off, guiltily ... there's a reason Justin doesn't know what time he woke up that morning. "Um. So. Bed? You wanna come?"

Justin looks at him in confusion. "You want me to come with you? But I thought ... I don't get it."

"What don't you get?" JC leans over and ruffles Justin's hair. "Come sleep with me. My sheets are clean. And I thought you were okay, comfortable, with it? Was I wrong?"

"Well ... " says Justin. "Either you're asking me to have sex with you -- in which case you're being WAY too casual about it -- or you're asking me to just SLEEP with you. And then ... that seems just WAY too intimate considering you just said you don't even want to date me."

"I *didn't* say that," JC reminds him, "but that's *so* not the point. I'm just not ready to be alone, right now. And a lot happened, between us, today ... I just didn't want it to end, I guess, over a sandwich and the promise of crackers?"

"Okay," says Justin. "I'll take you to bed." He WANTS to sleep with JC, but there's a tension between them now, and he's TOTALLY unsure of what things are, now. Again.

"You'll stay, though, right?" JC persists, allowing Justin to nudge him toward the hall. "C'mon, I was good last night. And ... I'll rub your neck for you, again? Just don't leave, okay?"

"If I get up," says Justin, "I'll come back, I promise." He touches JC's arm. "I had a nap this afternoon, remember? And ... I think I have a lot to think about."

"Fine," JC says in mock exasperation, smiling guiltily when he yawns again. He pushes the door to his room open and collapses on the bed. "Um. You can borrow some boxers, if you need to," he mumbles into the covers.

Justin drops his towel and shuts the bedroom door. "Are you sure I'll be needing them?" he asks.

JC doesn't move, or glance over. "I said 'if'," he insists, burrowing his face into the mattress and pushing futilely at the towel around his own waist.

Justin smiles ruefully at him and goes over to help remove the towel from under his waist. "Get under the covers," he says gently.

"Mmm," JC clambors up to the head of the bed and kicks his legs under the sheets like a little kid. He holds his arms out to Justin. "C'mere; come get in," he sighs. "Warm me up." JC is vaguely aware of how clingy he's being, but blames it on the fact that Justin has professed how much he *likes* JC needing him.

Justin laughs a bit, some of the tension diffusing, and slips under the covers with JC, wrapping his arms around him. "Now what?" he asks.

JC kisses the underside of his chin, then presses his lips gently against Justin's. "Just hold me," he murmurs. "And don't forget you promised to come back, if you go."

"I won't forget," says Justin, a little amazed at this change in JC, this affectionate nature. He kisses him back, softly, and also lets himself become amazed at just how far he's come.

"You promised," JC repeats, nuzzling into his neck and pressing up against Justin's hip. He's worn out, that last beer just pushing him over the edge, reminding his body that he should have been passed out long ago.

"Yes," says Justin. "I promised. Go to sleep, JC. You look like you're about to collapse." He kisses his throat softly and backs away a little.

JC makes a discontented sound and shifts back closer to Justin, resting some of his body weight on top of him. His breathing does slow, however, and any efforts to try to hold on to conscious thought are in vain.

Justin holds onto JC until he's sure he's sleeping then carefully slips out of the bed. He finds one of those pairs of boxer shorts that were offered to him and sneaks out of the room. He has a LOT to figure out right now, and he can't keep a clear head lying in JC"s arms. He heads for his own room, and silently shuts the door.

---

JC shuts the door to his bedroom quickly behind him and slumps against the wall in the hallway, panting heavily. He'll just leave Joey in there; once he recovers from his obvious surprise at JC walking out in the middle of ... what they were doing when he walked out, he'll either stay in there or go back to his own room. It doesn't matter to JC. The only thought his intoxicated mind can handle at this point is that he needs to find Justin.

Justin sits cross-legged on top of his covers, flipping channels and finding NOTHING he wanted to bother to stop and watch. He was going to have to go back to bed with JC soon -- WANTED to go -- but he still doesn't know what's going on with them. Whether JC is going to curl around him and want him to stay, or whether he's going to go all aloof again and remind Justin that what they're doing together is just casual. And he's not even sure, anymore, which is the more frightening prospect.

Looking down at himself, JC realizes that he's still completely naked from when Justin had put him to bed earlier, and his erection is large and needy. But he is NOT going back in that room to get anything to put on; it had taken all of his willpower and THEN some to pull away from Joey the first time -- whiskey-flavored lips insistent on his neck, fingers from one hand gripping his cock, others slick with saliva teasing at his ass...

He's turned halfway to go back into his room anyway before he catches himself. *Justin.* He remembers making a promise to him, and he remembers he's still -- or is it always? -- walking on thin ice with him. And given Justin's reaction the night before, seeing JC after Joey fucked him, he knows it would be a million times worse given how much their intimacy has increased since then.

Justin finally settles on a nature program and decides that watching gazelles fuck is probably about the best can can hope for. He briefly considers putting something on other than JC's boxers -- in case someone decides to come by; he can hear them pass by his door from time to time -- but it's still warm and he LIKES looking down and noticing he's wearing something of JC's. He puts the remote control beside him on the bed and stretches his legs out in front of him, leaning back on his hands.

JC's breath is still heaving, his face flushed, as he makes his way down the hall. His arousal is making walking awkward, and his hand snakes its way to rub against it with every other step. He's temporarily deterred by the fact that Justin's door is closed, and considers knocking, but then another panic over Joey seeing him waiting in the hall hits him and he barges in.

Justin jumps as the door slams. "C!" he says, turning his head. "What are you doing up?" His gaze travels downward and he blushes as he realizes just how many meanings that could take. "I was just watching TV ... "

The recent whiskey in JC's system, layered on top of everything *else* he'd drank that day, makes talking more of an effort than it should be. "Hey," he mumbles, staggering almost imperceptibly as he moves toward the bed. "Justin, hey, hi." Landing on his hands and knees on the mattress, JC crawls up to where Justin is lounging and starts sucking on his neck, hands groping his chest.

Justin frowns and pushes JC away. "What the fuck?" he says. "I thought you were SLEEPING. What the fuck were you doing ... wallowing in a vat of Jack? Jesus FUCKING Christ, get off of me ... " He moves away from him but stays on the bed, expecting an answer.

JC just moves against Justin again, not overly concerned with being shoved off the first time, and tries to continue kissing his face and throat. "I got woke up," he mumbles, nipping at an ear. "An' I drank all the Jack, earlier, I thought ... s'okay, Justin. Justin." JC breathes his name, liking the new way it sounds on his lips as he kisses him.

"No," says Justin, pushing again in disbelief, "no, NOT okay, C. You can't just ... " He grabs JC's face in both his hands and stares into JC's eyes. "You can't just coming in here reeking of liquor, NAKED, and ... molest me. What the FUCK, C? I thought things were going good." He continues staring at him for a moment, then lets his face go and looks away.

Even having Justin stare him in the eye doesn't distract JC from what he's doing, driven by alcohol and hormones. As soon as he lets go he tries to climb between Justin's legs, running his hands over the other man's hips. "Good, yeah," he sighs as his cock brushes Justin's thigh and ducks his head to Justin's nipples. "C'mon, Justin, Justin ... 'molest,' tha's a mean word. An' -- I didn't *want* the liquor. Okay, Justin? Better?"

Justin shoves him harder this time. "Fuck, C, not like this, okay? Just back the fuck off." It's somewhat flattering that JC is this horny for him, but it's also just really fucked up. "What, did you wake up during a wet dream and decided you wanted the real thing? What?" He pushes JC one last time, for good measure, but lightly.

Sighing loudly, JC lets himself be pushed off of Justin finally, rolling over onto his belly on the bed. He keeps one of his hands on Justin's hip, though, and starts kissing the outside of his thigh. "No," he says, not even trying to hide the fact that he's thrusting his own hips against the covers underneath him. "Jus' don't *worry* about it, I'm here, I want *you*, can you just let me...?"

"Let you WHAT, exactly?" asks Justin warily. "Do you really want it to be like THIS, JC?" He runs a hand over JC's skin and sighs wearily, trying not to watch him hump the bed. He doesn't shove JC's lips off him this time; what he's doing now is pretty innocent, relatively speaking. "How long have you been up?"

JC shrugs, trailing his fingers around to the small of Justin's back, moving his lips down to Justin's knee. "Dunno," he says, humming a little. "Not too long. I thought you were coming back ..." He flips on his side, then, and wraps his body around Justin's leg. "And what's wrong with this?" he protests, pouting a little. "You said you'd take care of me. I need taking care of, Justin."

"Long enough to get drunk again," comments Justin. "Which, I guess, must have been a MUCH more appealing option than coming to find me earlier." He continues to touch JC gently, though. To not REJECT him, out of hand. "I think 'taking care of you' right now might mean getting some water into you so you don't dehydrate and get sick again, and putting you back to bed."

"No," JC says quickly, a little more lucidly, pinning Justin's legs down just in case he starts to get up. "No, that's not what I meant, and I'm not going back to my room." He has no clue whether Joey's left yet, and doesn't want to necessarily find out. "If you'd come back, like you promised, I wouldn't have had to come find you." And Joey wouldn't have come in ... or if he had, he wouldn't have tried to seduce him, and then JC wouldn't have to be begging Justin to do something about how turned on he got, since he wasn't allowed to let Joey do it...

"Christ, JC, I WAS coming back. I haven't gone to bed yet," says Justin, rolling his eyes at him and wiggling his legs to make sure he can get away, if he needs to. "If you'd just STAYED there, I'd be crawling in with you soon instead of trying to shake you off." He reaches down and tries to grab JC's shoulder, tries to pull him further up the bed so he isn't clinging to Justin's legs like a frightened 5-year-old. "Why the hell can't you go back to your room? Big scary monsters?"

JC snorts, he can't help it ... then gasps when Justin's large hands pull him up and his cock is rubbing against Justin's hip again. The pleasure is sharp, and he's just so *needy* right then, that the last shield between what he's thinking and what he's saying just dissolves. "Joey'd kick your ass if he heard you calling him that," he sighs, brushing another kiss on Justin's torso.

"What?" says Justin quietly. "JOEY'S in your room? What the hell is JOEY doing in your room, JC?" He frowns in confusion, unable to put the pieces together, and cups the back of JC's head with his hand, running his fingers through his soft hair.

Shivering a little at Justin's caress, JC starts thrusting again, his cock still so hard he thinks it might explode if Justin doesn't *touch* him soon. Justin's tone doesn't set off any warning bells, either. "Joey-stuff," he mumbles. "He went an' got more whiskey. Did I tell you I drank it all, Justin? The other bottle, I did. But he got more an' brought it to my room."

"So you had a little party with Joey in your room, after I left," says Justin flatly. Turning abruptly, he shoves JC off him and practically off the bed. "Get the fuck off me," he mutters. "I only asked ONE fucking thing of you, JC. One thing. And you couldn't even do that."

JC grunts in pain when he lands awkwardly on his arm and stares mutely back up at Justin. He *did* do what Justin asked him -- he doesn't understand why he isn't getting that -- and Justin doesn't even care how hard it was. JC remembered his promise, he pushed Joey away from him and *left*, and now Justin is just pushing him away in turn. It almost isn't worth arguing, but he does it anyway. "Yes, I could. I DID. You're the one that didn't do the thing I asked of *you*."

"You did?" asks Justin, still frowning at him. "What do you mean, you did? You just had sex with Joey again ... Nice that it turned you on and all, but no thanks. If you want to be with him, then you don't get to be with me. We were CLEAR on that."

JC's jaw drops a little, then he starts laughing incredulously. "Fuck, Justin," he blurts out, gesturing at himself. "LOOK at me. Does it *look* like I just got off?" He breaks down and grips himself in his own hand then, meaning for it to emphasize his point, but his eyes close at the touch. "I didn't. HE didn't, either. I stopped him, okay? Jesus." His hand starts moving then, up and down the shaft -- it's better than nothing.

"You stopped him?" repeats Justin, his eyes widening as the truth smacks him upside the head. "Oh my God, you stopped him? You said NO?" He reaches out and grabs the back of JC's head, pulling him into a searing kiss. "That's why you won't go back? You'd rather be with me?"

JC topples over onto Justin, dragged off-balance by the abrupt embrace, but it only takes him a second to return the kiss. "I left, Justin," he breathes, squeezing him tightly -- completely surprised by the passion in Justin's reaction but suddenly hopeful again that he might get an orgasm sometime before he dies, after all. "I told you I would. You didn't believe me?"

Justin bites his lip. "It didn't look like you had," he admits, "but ... wow, thank you. You're HERE. Instead of there, with him. And I'm not totally happy that you're here and you're DRUNK, but you're HERE and that's what matters." He takes a deep breath and kisses him again, grinding JC's body against his. "What do you want to do?" he asks as they part, his cheeks flushed and his lips reddened.

Chasing after Justin's lips, thrusting his tongue in his mouth, JC starts yanking on his boxers. He's being driven almost completely crazy by the way Justin is rubbing against him. "What are we allowed to do?" he gasps. "You wanna fuck me?"

Justin licks his lips, kisses JC less frantically this time. "I don't want my first time inside you -- inside anyone -- to be while you're drunk and desperate to get off." He's careful to be clear it's not a 'no', just a 'not now'. Justin pauses, stares at JC's needy face, then takes a deep breath. "You could fuck me, though," he says softly. He pulls JC against him again, grinds his own growing erection into JC's hip.

It feels like every ounce of blood in JC's body is rushing to his cock when Justin offers his body to him that way. And so he's shocked when he finds himself telling him no. "Justin, fuck, I can't," he moans, shifting his hips so their erections rub together. "Doesn't the same 'first time' reasoning count here?" JC manages to tug Justin's boxers halfway down his ass as he talks. "Plus, there is no WAY this is gonna last long enough to make it good."

"That's okay," says Justin, letting JC take care of the boxers. "I've told you again and again, JC ... my ass is NOT virgin territory. I don't think of it that way. At all. But -- " He's almost embarassed to say this, to open himself up to teasing again. " -- I've never been inside someone. Not a guy, not a girl, not even a doll or ANYTHING, JC. That's, like, the real deal. For me. Okay? So I'd like to save that for, like, a special occasion. Or something."

"Okay," JC sighs, kissing him distractedly, finally removing Justin's underwear and running his hands up the backs of his thighs to rest on his ass -- using the leverage to press his erection against Justin's now-exposed cock. "Fuck," he groans, flushing as he feels himself tightening. "Justin ... I'm not gonna be able to wait. Here." He grabs Justin's hand and puts it on his hip. "Can you just touch me? I swear, that's all it'll take ..."

Justin reaches over and touches him gently. "Is that what you want?" he asks, though. "I'm willing, JC. I know what I'm doing. Or if you're really worried about it ... we could, you know, AFTER I take the edge off for you ... " JC turned down JOEY for him, and that really, really says something. He begins stroking him slowly, not trying to get him off until he gets his answer. Because he wants this, now. Feels ready for it.

"Oh, God," JC moans, almost laughing at the relief he feels having Justin touch him finally, if too gently. He starts thrusting into his hand and leans forward to lick his ear. "Yes, yes; I can go again, I'll fuck your sweet ass as long and as hard as you want ... just please, PLEASE do that HARDER." He knows as soon as he comes he'll actually be able to think clearly, to figure out how he's going to make this good for Justin, but right now he just needs release.

Justin grins a bit now, feeling a bit more in control this time than he has any other time they've been together. He squeezes a bit harder, begins jerking JC off the way he would do himself, running his thumb over the head and stroking him confidently. "Okay," he says, his voice still seductively soft. "Let me take care of you, then, C ... "

"Yeah, oh, yeah..." JC inhales sharply and shudders, bucks his hips once, and starts coming -- just like he knew he would. He throws his head back as the streams spurt over Justin's fist, splashing onto his tight groin, then opens his eyes to watch Justin watching it. "I'm gonna fuck you so good, baby boy," he tells him before he can even catch a breath.

*That was fast,* Justin wants to say, but keeps it to himself. He doesn't know what to do with the cum across his hand, feels like rubbing it into the blankets or one of their bodies would be crude, so he brings it up to his lips to taste it. He hadn't gotten much of a chance to do that earlier, had just swallowed as it had been spurted into his throat. It's tangy and salty and a lot more bitter than his own, he thinks. He doesn't process JC's comment about fucking him yet, still focused on this first act.

JC raises an eyebrow as Justin's tongue reaches out to lap at his hand. "Sorry," he breathes, "for the mess." He wipes at the juices covering Justin's body, then raises his finger to his own mouth, sucking it clean slowly. Meeting Justin's eyes, he smiles unabashedly. "Told you that wouldn't last."

Justin grins back at him. "I believed you," he says, bringing his hand back down to JC's waist and caressing his skin with a still-damp thumb. "And there's nothing wrong with mess." He leans in and kisses JC thoroughly, making it last until he has to pull back and pant for oxygen. "God, you turned down Joey," he says out of the blue. "Thank you."

JC is too sated at the moment to get agitated by how surprised Justin sounds about that, and how much he keeps bringing it up. "Welcome," he says lightly, draping his body over Justin's and nuzzling into his neck before kissing him again, languidly. "You'll be glad we did this first." He doesn't even stop to consider that Justin may not actually want to go through with it.

Justin licks his lips, smiles at him again. "I already am," he confesses truthfully. "And now ... " His smiles turns into a bit of an eager grin; he's looking FORWARD to this, now. It's amazing how much being certain of JC's loyalty changes things. Or maybe, on some level, he's getting used to the complications. Accepting them. Realizing that someone else IS capable of making him feel good. While in the back of his mind he never forgets that being with someone else can also make him feel things OTHER than good, it's not pressing right now. "You'll have to tell me what to do ... "

JC grins and falls back on the bed, crossing his arms behind his head. "Do?" he asks innocently. "I'm the one that's gonna be working your ass over. You just need to give me a couple minutes to recover." He closes his eyes and takes the limp, heavy weight of his hyper-sensitive cock in his hand. "Unless," he says, opening one eye, "you want me to suck you first, or something?"

"However this is supposed to happen," murmurs Justin, his mind starting to wrap around the notion of JC fucking him. He shivers a bit, realizing just HOW not in control he's going to be when it happens, but the desire for the physical sensations overwhelms that. And he finds that he feels safe enough with JC, right now, that he's willing to let it happen. "I need to ask something, though."

Propping himself up on an elbow, JC levels his gaze at Justin. "I meant 'suck you' OFF," he clarifies. "Not as part of the buildup. I just wasn't sure if you were worried about coming too fast, either." He bites his lip, still cupping himself. "But ask your question, before you decide."

Justin sighs, wonders if anything is going to happen after all, once he asks. "Are you going to freak out, if I cry again?"

"Fuck, Justin," JC collapses back onto the bed, trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice. "Are you thinking, like, mid-fuck? 'Cause yeah, that might ruin the mood a little. We don't have to do this, you know."

"God," says Justin. "WHY do you think crying means I don't want to do it? Haven't we been THROUGH this? Fuck." He rolls away. "I"m NEVER gonna get laid."

JC reaches a tentative hand out to touch Justin's back. "Just ... just try to wait 'til we're done, okay? And I'll try to be more ... understanding."

Justin rolls back towards him. "It's always when we're done, C," he says. "I'm a little too ... involved, up to that point, to get overwhelmed. Besides .... " he adds, leaning forward to kiss him. "This is going to be the most familiar thing we've done ... for me, at least. I'll be fine. I'll be more than fine. So don't freak. Just ... hold me, or something."

JC tries to kiss him back with as much tenderness as his alcohol-addled, still-horny brain will allow. "Hold you now?" he asks. "Or then?"

"THEN," laughs Justin. "Hold me then, suck me now. Does that work for you?" He can't believe he just said that, but it's out there, now.

Feeling his cock start to thicken again with Justin's words, JC bites playfully on his lip. "Okay. Then we're back to my suck you/suck you off question."

"I'm not in any danger of going off, just yet, if that's what you're asking," says Justin, running a hand down JC's side. "How about you lead, JC? You're the experience one, here."

"I guess I was just trying to gauge your progress," JC replies, goosebumps appearing where Justin had touched his body. He reaches down to trail a finger down Justin's erection. "You've been dealing with that for a little while."

"I have remarkable self control," says Justin with a smirk, but his breath hitches at the touch.

"Mmm," JC agrees, running his finger back up to the tip of Justin's cock before pulling it away. "We'll see. Okay, last time I'm asking: are you sure you're into this?"

"You'd know, if I wasn't," says Justin, sounding as certain as I can. "Do it. Do ME."

"Okay," JC says agreeably, settling down next to Justin and brushing a hand down his thigh. "I can do that. But you can't rush perfection, keep that in mind."

"Who's rushing?" asks Justin, sighing in relief. "So ... what do I do?"

JC chuckles and spoons up behind him, mouthing the nape of Justin's neck, burying his nose in his curls. "Why do you keep asking me that? If you really feel the NEED to make yourself useful, you could get us a condom. And some lube."

"They're next to you," says Justin, chuckling a bit. "They're already out." He tries not to remember WHY they're out, though.

"Okay," JC looks over his shoulder. "Um. How 'bout I not ask?" He ducks his head then and bites at a tendon in Justin's neck, wrapping his arms tighter around his shoulders. "Did I not satisfy you this morning?"

"Let's not talk about this morning, huh?" says Justin quietly, closing his eyes.

JC bites him again, less gently, suddenly aware that he's walking a thin line. "Let's not talk at all," he suggests instead, tracing a circle around one of Justin's nipples.

"Can I ask another question?" says Justin, relaxing, even smiling a little.

Sighing exaggeratedly, JC copies the tone Justin had used on him earlier in the day. "What part of 'let's not talk' confuses you?" He smiles and tugs on Justin's earlobe with his teeth. "I'm teasing. Ask away."

"Do you feel like you're about to take my virginity?" he asks, quite sincerely. "Is this what it is, to you?"

"Wow," JC says softly. He hadn't paused long enough to think about it, really; but when they had talked about it before, that *was* what he thought it'd be. Penetration plus orgasm equals sex to JC, that's *his* textbook definition, and if this is this first time Justin'll be doing that -- with someone ELSE, he reminds himself -- then ... yeah. "Yeah."

"Okay," says Justin, opening his eyes, looking at him openly. "I'm very glad it's you."

"But you don't think so," JC frowns a little, and it isn't a question. Then he shakes his head. "Nevermind. Come kiss me, baby boy."

"I think," says Justin, leaning up to kiss him. "That I'm about to give you something else that is very special. Like I did ... this morning. And I'm very happy to be doing that."

"Maybe you should wait until we're done to make that decision," JC smiles teasingly, sucking gently on one of Justin's lips and rolling him over to face him. Then he gets serious again, for what he hopes will be the last time until they're done: "This isn't going to be like what you're used to."

"I'm ready for that," Justin assures him. And he thinks he is.

JC kisses him softly and deeply, then, running his palms lightly over Justin's chest, before trailing his lips down over his chin and letting his eyelashes brush along Justin's cheeks. He actually feels ... not *awkward*, but somewhat aimless. With the number of times he's done this, how does he even start?

"That feels nice," murmurs Justin, shifting a little bit under JC's touch. "So ... what IS it going to be like, then?" he asks softly, wondering if JC is going to get mad at him for asking questions. "I've seen pictures and videos, you know ... "

JC chuckles and dips his tongue into the hollow of Justin's throat, remembering what it was that Justin had told him he wanted him to be like when they finally had sex: confident, in control, and coming after he does. This is the easy part, he reminds himself: sucking dick, he can do that. He can't afford to be hesitant about it. "You know it's not something I can put into words, Justin," he mumbles against his skin. "There'll be a lot more heat than when you do yourself, I can tell you that."

"I trust you," says Justin, meaning every word of that. As much as he's been talking it down, this moment IS a bit of a big deal to him; it's something that's he's been waiting to have happen for a long time. Not as much as being touched in the first place, but ... enough that he has a whole series of fantasies about the moment he's first fucked. Hot fantasies. He wonders if JC has ANY idea just how extensive his fantasy life really is. "You're making me hot already," he adds, as if that weren't already obvious by the erection JC had shown such concern about.

"Mmm," JC acknowledges, slipping further down Justin's body. He'd been sort of straddling Justin's thighs, but now he's ready to really start *touching* him, and he needs Justin to be a little more ... open ... for that. "Spread your legs," he tells him, in a huskier voice than he'd been using, nudging them apart with his knee.

Justin spreads his legs easily, licking his lips at the tone in JC's voice. He's nervous, yeah, but he's not UNCERTAIN anymore. He's made this decision, not had it made for him, and even if he doesn't know what to expect, he feels like he's ready for it. "Tell me what you're doing," he insists, though. "If you think it might ... startle me."

"I promise," JC tells him, dipping his tongue into Justin's navel, "that I will be doing plenty of talking by the time we get to something I haven't done to you yet. Describing it in great detail. And how it's making me feel, while I'm at it." He finally lets his cheek brush along the side of Justin's erection as he makes his way past it to suck on the thick tendon where Justin's leg meets his groin. "Like this ... tasting you, how sweet you are, is making me realize that we might not have to wait as long for me to recover as I thought we might ..."

Justin rolls his hips up against JC. "Okay," he breathes, his eyes fluttering shut again. He's reminded for a moment just HOW inexperienced he is, and just how scary the out-of-control feeling can be. Sucking on JC -- at least then he was SOMEWHAT in control of the situation. Now, like that morning, he was going to have to lose himself to get the most out of it.

"You can talk too, you know," JC reminds him, drawing teasing circles across Justin's other hip with his fingers as he continues to mouth everywhere except his erection. "Tell me how you've thought about this happening. You might give me some inspiration, you never know." Justin looks so fucking *inviting* right then: legs spread, rigid cock, closed eyes ... JC is sorely tempted to screw the foreplay.

"I AM talking," mumbles Justin, licking his lips again and lifting his knees just slightly so that his legs fall open even more. He tries to organize his fantasies into one scenario, but it's impossible. "I've thought about it so many ways," he confesses. "In so many positions. Being fucked, being touched, being kissed. Imagining the weight of someone on top of me, on my back, on my front ... " He seems to realize he's rambling and blushes. "Sorry ... "

"For?" JC arches an eyebrow and stares up at Justin as he lowers his mouth onto his cock, surrounding just the head and tonguing along the rim. He pulls off, then, with one last lick at the tip, and goes back to kissing Justin's hips and thighs. "I asked you to tell me how you want it. I may not do it that way -- I've had my own fantasies about fucking you -- but I'll consider it at least."

"I want it with you," says Justin. "That's about the only sure thing. Everything else ... okay, I can ADMIT that i don't know the first thing about what to do with something else. So if you think it'll make us feel good ... do it, okay? Don't -- " He takes a deep breath. " -- don't wait for permission. Just do it."

It's as if Justin giving JC permission to not have to *ask* permission was the final element JC needed to regain his confidence about what they're about to do. Resting the weight of his upper body on the hands he still has placed on Justin's hips, JC hunches his shoulders and takes the other man's cock into his mouth, deep and surely. Letting it bump against the back of his throat, remembering how that had encouraged Justin to start thrusting that morning, hoping it might do so again -- *wanting* to feel Justin bucking into his mouth.

Justin moans and arches his back, almost involuntarily driving himself further into JC's throat. "That's so good," he whispers hoarsely. "I couldn't have imagined THAT, let alone ... " He breaks off before completing that thought, trying to get his body to calm down a little, again convincing himself that he can just let JC do this, that JC won't hurt him with words this time. That they UNDERSTAND each other now. JC's comment about just lying there haunts him, though, and he summons the presence of mind to reach down, to stroke JC's hair and face.

Justin's hands are warm on JC's head as he begins bobbing up and down on Justin's cock, still not using anything but his lips and tongue and throat to stroke him. He soon tastes the fluid leaking out of the tip, a warm, wonderful essence that he realizes he's been craving all day. But as much as he wants to sample it all, JC knows he should stop soon if he wants Justin to come when they have sex. Which, he's realizing, he wants almost more than his own orgasm.

"Oh, JC," Justin breathes, wanting to say his name, wanting to assure HIMSELF that it's JC with him and it's okay to feel the things he's feeling. Okay to feel like he's spinning or falling or just dizzy with lust. He begins moving his hips in time with JC's lips, thrusting back against his throat, feeling the wet heat surrounding him in the most intimate of place. "Oh, God."

"Okay," JC whispers, pulling back and removing his lips from Justin's erection with one last lick at the tip. "That's enough of that, right now, okay?" He replaces his mouth with his hand as he talks, stroking slowly and gently as he makes his way back up Justin's body. "You taste too good, I have to stop. For right now."

"No stop," grumbles Justin childishly, but he's grinning. He leans up for a kiss, wetting his lips and parting them slightly, coaxing JC to claim them. His hand trails down the back of JC's neck to caress his shoulderblades, exploring JC's body again with his palms and fingertips.

JC groans to himself when he sees Justin's pink tongue dart out to moisten his lips, and bends over to attack his mouth; sucking at one lip and then the other, thrusting his own tongue inside. He can feel Justin's hard, slick cock press against his leg and sidles over slightly so his own, now almost-fully-erect length rubs against it teasingly. "You'll like this better," JC says knowingly, squirming a little, trying to encourage Justin's hands to drift lower.

"Will I?" says Justin. He reaches up to take his glasses off, knowing they're going to be in the way very, very soon, and reaches past JC to drop them on the night table. Then he bites his lip and widens his eyes, KNOWING how innocent it makes him look, and thinking that maybe JC might like that. He rolls his hips again, grinding himself up against JC, and grins as he he lets his hand trace down JC's back to his waist.

JC narrows his eyes at Justin's tone and expression, wondering just how much of the coyness is for show, before grinning evilly and shifting his weight onto his knees so he can thrust a little more roughly against Justin. "You know," he says slowly, twisting his fingers in Justin's curls and tugging on them somewhat roughly as well, "I can't make up my mind about something."

Justin's grin falters. "You're not ... having second thoughts, are you?" he says nervously. His hand runs down to clutch JC's ass and he grinds back against him. He can't read that look, can't tell if JC is teasing him back or it's something else. Something worse. "Because I can do better, JC. Honest."

"Shh, no," JC purrs softly, a little patronizingly, yanking on Justin's hair even more roughly as he nips at his ear. "I'm not stopping now. I just can't decide if I want to take you like this, like we are now, and have your legs wrapped around me, or ..." he growls as he matches Justin's thrusts, spurred on by the almost desperate way he had grabbed his ass, "if I want to flip you over and fuck you from behind."

"Oh God," moans Justin. "Yes. Either." He's almost reached the point of no return, the point where he has to give himself over to JC and trust that JC will take him to good, good places. "Both," he adds softly and closes his eyes again.

"Yeah," JC murmurs. "Both. That's what I was thinking, too." He kisses Justin once more, deeply, then grasps one of his shoulders to roll him over beneath him. "On your stomach, baby boy," he whispers into his ear as he's turning him. "I've got you."

Justin gasps a little when JC breaks the kiss, and hopes that JC means 'I've got you' in far more ways in just the physical sense. He puts his arms up over his head and presses the pillow into his face, hiding any reaction he might have that JC could take as even REMOTELY negative. Because his pulse is racing and his skin feels warm, everywhere, and he WANTS this and is scared to death of it at the same time. And all he wants is for JC to take control, to give him what they both want and to make it amazing.

JC sits back a little and just stares at the beautiful body of the boy in front of him, touching him feather-lightly on a shoulderblade, the small of his back, the crease where his leg meets the globe of his ass. "So pretty," he breathes, leaning down to press his chest against Justin's back, mouthing at the nape of his neck, letting his cock rest gently, but still, between Justin's cheeks.

Justin feels the weight of JC on him and, for once, something is exactly the way he's imagined it would be. He hopes more kisses will follow, more touches, more exploration. His arms stop gripping the pillow so tightly and he allows himself some cool air. "I'm pretty?" he says softly, turning his face to the side. It makes him feel even warmer, to hear that.

"Yes," JC says simply, pressing his lips to Justin's now-accessible cheek. He does like to talk, during sex, but not necessarily to stroke the other person's ego ... so he leaves it at that. He grips Justin's shoulders in his hands firmly, then, and nestles a knee between Justin's thighs. He smiles as Justin spreads his legs, almost eagerly, without any more coaxing than that. Slowly, teasingly, he drags himself up, stroking against the crevice of Justin's ass, feeling the base of his cock rub briefly against his puckered opening.

Justin's moan is louder now and he unconsciously pushes back up against JC. He's pretty much completely vulnerable to him now, and quite content to be that way. Quite EAGER to be that way. JC has to know that being fucked -- being penetrated, anyway -- is one of his favorite things to do. He doesn't think that's much of a surprise to ANY of them. And the idea that he's not going to be able to control how hard or fast or deep is absolutely nerve-wracking. "You're so ... hot ... " Justin gasps out as JC grips him and presses his body close.

"Yeah?" JC breathes into his neck, moving against him again with even more intensity. "I bet you are, too. I can't wait to get my fingers inside you, my dick inside you, and see just how hot that is ... tight, too, I bet." He thrusts again, but this time lets the head of his cock pause at Justin's hole, testing it, smearing the moisture from the tip around the soft skin.

"I can't promise that," chuckles Justin softly, not forgetting what he'd done that day after JC left. He can still feel it, just a little. But JC's words send a shudder through him, a visible one, and suddenly he wants to FEEL it as well as hear about it. He moves back against JC again, trying to tell him that the teasing is WORKING and he wants it so desperately now he can feel it with every harsh breath he takes.

"It'll be enough," JC assures him before pulling almost completely off of Justin's back, kneeling between his legs. He's surprised at just how *captivated* he is by Justin's ass, how eager he is for it. It's not like he's never done this before, although it has been a while -- he's not ashamed to admit to himself that he prefers being the bottom. But something about Justin's body and Justin's attitude and Justin's relative virginity makes JC want to fuck him senseless. He forces himself to reach out slowly, with a single finger, touching the small of Justin's back and trailing a warm line all the way down the crease to his opening.

"You ... tease ... " breathes Justin, his body tensing in anticipation. He can't see what's going on right now, can only feel it, and hear JC's words and the little sounds he makes as he explores Justin's body. It suddenly hits him, again, how COMPLETELY at JC's mercy he is, and another shiver goes through his body. JC is taking full advantage of his power, teasing him, going slowly, drawing out everything. And Justin can't imagine ever wanting it any other way. He quells his impatience and just moans for JC again, lets him know just how RIGHT all the sensations he's feeling right now are.

JC grins, even though Justin can't see it. "This," he says softly, tracing around Justin's hole, "is NOT teasing. I'm taking it easy on you, your first time, baby boy." He bends his head, then, to replace his finger with his mouth when he remembers he promised Justin he'd warn him about that kind of stuff. "Just? This is something different." He presses his lips to Justin's tailbone.

"Yes, it is," breathes Justin, squirming a little. "Oh, man, are you going to .... ?" He leaves the question dangling between them, almost burying his face in the pillow again. "Okay," he says, softly. "Okay, yes, YES!"

Biting his lip to keep from chuckling, JC ducks his head again and spreads the cheeks of Justin's ass gently. He knows, even without Justin reminding him all the time, that he's had plenty of stuff up his ass before, and probably won't need to be preapred as much, so what he's about to do isn't NECESSARY. But he also knows that Justin's never had anything like a tongue touch him there. Eager to see his reaction, JC touches the pucker with the tip of his tongue, almost too briefly.

Justin cries out softly, arches his back, is clearly keeping from pressing against JC's face by sheer force of will. "Oh my god," he gasp. "Oh, JC ... Jesus ... "

"Yeah," JC breathes knowingly, wondering what it might take to get Justin to do this back to him sometime, which makes him so hot that he remembers why he's not trying to drag this out for either of them, and abruptly thrusts his tongue in Justin's ass as far as it can go.

Justin yelps quietly, the sound muffled by the pillow, and reaches out to grasp something, anything, with his hands. This is it, the point where everything starts to spiral out of control, and he just lets himself go for the ride, this time.

JC grips Justin's hips and holds him steady, keeping him from squirming. He alternates lapping at Justin's opening with making his tongue as rigid as he can and penetrating him with it, working Justin open.

"Oh God, JC," breathes Justin, not conscious of the fact that he's fighting against JC's hands. "That's so fucking amazing SO fucking amazing why did i never know never imagine how your tongue would feel on me in me all over me .... "

Feeling Justin struggle and buck against his face, JC is tempted to just do THIS until Justin comes and then have his way with him. After all, Justin put him in control, and judging by how *vocal* he's being, he's enjoying himself. On the other hand ... he'd love to feel Justin's ass clench around his cock if he made him come while fucking him. Decisions.

"Oh baby," whispers Justin, writhing. "God ... " He doesn't ask why he waited, WON'T ask why he waited, even though in the heat of the moment, he wonders.

JC wrenches himself away from Justin and stretches on top of his body, kissing behind his ear. "Sorry to keep stopping," he says, not sounding terribly sorry at all, "but we still have a lot to do."

Justin pants to catch his breath, didn't realize he'd been holding it. "S'okay," he gets out. "Just ... DON'T LEAVE ... " He couldn't take it if JC left now, his BODY couldn't take it.

Leaning over, balanced precariously on Justin's hips, JC snags the lube and uncaps it. "I'm not going anywhere," he assures him, starting to rub his cock along the crease of Justin's ass again. "Did you like all that, though?"

"God, yes," breathes Justin, still squirming a little. "That was very wow." He turns his head a little, smiles over his shoulder.

"Like, omigod!" JC teases him, poking a rib before covering his fingers with the cool liquid. He settles on his hip, half-on, half-off Justin, and rubs small circles into his lower back with his uncoated thumb as he kisses his arm.

"Don't tease," says Justin, giving him a pretty pout. "Only the FUN kind of teasing." He tenses again, a little, knowing what's coming but not knowing WHEN or HOW it's going to happen.

JC raises his eyebrows and leans up to kiss Justin's pout away. As soon as his tongue brushes his lips, he slides one wet finger smoothly into Justin, then just as calmly removes it.

Justin inhales sharply, his eyes shooting WIDE open at that. He wants to beg for more, but JC's lips are covering his now and he can't make a sound. So he pleads with his eyes and his hips, pushing back against JC, desperate for him to do it again.

JC has his eyes open as well, and he just kisses Justin deeper when the other man starts squirming against his hand. He was so *hot*, inside ...not constrictively tight, which wasn't much of a surprise, but tight enough. JC slides just the tip of his finger back in, up to his first knuckle, and begins tracing around the inside of the ring of muscle -- tugging slightly, thrusting not at all. He focuses on keeping all his actions slow and smooth for the moment.

Justin tears his lips away, gasps for breath. This is both like, and entirely UNlike, what he does to himself. He's never done that tugging thing, for instance, and didn't realize how many nerve endings it would tease as JC stretched him. "Fuck me," he moans in a voice somewhere in between a moan and a whisper, and closes his eyes again.

JC bites his lip and hesitates for the first time in several minutes. He *could* go ahead and fuck him, slide his cock all the way into Justin's ass without any more fanfare, and Justin could probably take it. But he's never done that to someone without loosening them up more, first, and just doesn't want it to *hurt.* He reaches over Justin's body again for the condom. "Right now?" he breathes into his ear.

"Soon," moans Justin. "Fingers, dick, whatever. I just want you INSIDE me. Keep doing what you're doing. Make me feel good, JC. PLEASE, just make me feel good ... " He's aware of the blatant desperation in his voice, and refuses to be ashamed of it. He's SUPPOSED to want this, and he does, and he knows JC WANTS him to want it.

JC tears the condom wrapper open with his teeth, his other hand still exploring Justin's ass. His finger is a little deeper, now, and as he reaches down to roll the condom on his dick with one hand, he pulls it out quickly and adds another finger. He's still too shallow to trigger Justin's prostate, however, and that's intentional. He turns his head to kiss Justin one last time before he'll enter him, and murmurs into his mouth: "think I can do it? Think I'll make you feel good, so good, you're gonna want this all the time?"

"I already do," says Justin, not stopping to consider his words, what they might mean for his future, for the NEXT time they're in this position. He's READY, so ready, in every physical way. But the actual moment when JC enters him, he has no idea how that's gonna feel, what it's gonna do to him and what' he's gonna do when it happens.

Tearing his lips away from Justin's reluctantly, JC moves back against the other man's back and picks the lube up again. He hisses as he slathers it on his erection, still testing Justin's hole with his other fingers, and then after a few deep breaths wipes his hand on the sheets to he can grab Justin's hip. He pulls back on it gently, trying to raise Justin a little to his knees, and licks up his spine. "C'mon, baby boy, up a little ... I wanna be able to just slide right in ..."

Justin lets JC move him into position easily. It's already different -- he'd never be able to fuck himself in this position -- and he wonders what it's going to feel like with the small part of his brain that's not consumed with lust and need. The very THOUGHT of JC 'sliding right in' sends shivers through his body and his gut clenches in anticipation. "Yes," he whispers, wondering if JC needs to hear that before he goes ahead and DOES it.

With one last sweep of his fingers against the walls of Justin's ass, JC spreads them apart gently, holding the entry to Justin's body open. He releases Justin's hip so he can grab the base of his erection and postion the head flush against the rim of muscle. He can feel the heat on his tip, through the lube, through the condom, and he wants it surrounding his cock. He knows that it might be a little more considerate to enter Justin partway first, to let him adjust to JC's size, but his devilish side reminds him that Justin claims he can take it. So he takes a deep breath and pushes in to the hilt: not slowly, and not roughly, but steadily and without pausing at the resistance.

Justin actually shouts, loudly, but it isn't with pain, not at all. He was ready to take something JC's size and though he feels FULL it's not painful. It's the abrupt stimulation of his prostate that draws the shout out of him -- and JC wasn't even TRYING. That and the weigh of JC's body, the feeling of being both entered and coccooned at the same time. He thrusts back against JC, feels JC's balls slapping against him, and just wants MORE.

JC grunts at Justin's shout, moans at the heat suddenly enveloping him, and whimpers when Justin bucks back against him. He realizes that Justin really *wants* this, is begging for it with his body, and it reminds JC so much of himself in the same position that he's actually jealous for a split-second. Until he draws back out and rams his cock back inside of Justin, much less gently, groaning "fuck, Justin; FUCK, Justin." His mind tilts a little with the pleasure, and he briefly wonders whether Justin jerking him off before was going to help make this last at *all.*

Justin tries to take a moment to sort out all the things he's feeling -- desired, safe, dizzy, vulnerable, fucked, cold, hot, confused, turned on, hard, scared, ecstatic -- and can't. They can't be separated from one another now, they're all part of this experience. He shudders as JC rams into him, and wants nothing more than to feel it again. Hard, careful, quick. JC's fingers grip his flesh as he thrusts, his fingers as hot and tight as Justin's ass feels. He's taken bigger things, but JC FILLS him like nothing has before.

Abruptly JC realizes that he's not even touching Justin, and just because *he* can get off from being fucked doesn't mean Justin can. "Sorry, sorry," he mutters, hunching over Justin's back and kissing a shoulderblade, wrapping an arm around his waist. He touches Justin's cock gently with his fingertips, with a tenderness and reverence wholly unlike the way he's abusing his ass at the moment.

Justin sighs happily. "You don't have to do that," he breathes, his whole body relaxing just a little. "But it's nice." He thrusts back against JC again, letting him KNOW that it's pretty much safe to do whatever he wants to his ass, and it'll feel good. And maybe, like before, JC'll have a few things that are new to him. That will make him feel things that he never has before ... and really, that's what this is all about. Feeling new things, both physically and emotionally.

JC makes his thrusts a little shallower as he begins to stroke Justin's erection. He places his other hand on the small of Justin's back to steady him, then stops moving completely for a moment, catching his breath and slowing his pulse to prepare himself for the self-control that will be needed to finish what he's doing to the pliant body beneath him. Encouraging Justin's back to arch by pressing down with his palm while holding the rest of his body steady with the forearm wrapped around it, JC keeps himself still for another agonizing moment. Then he starts moving his hips again, but rotating them rather than thrusting them, still only partly inside Justin.

Justin's back arches with very little encouragement from JC, pushing his ass further up in the air, making both sides of his body more accessible to the other man. He gasps again at the sensations JC is creating and struggles to even out his breath, but it's a hopeless cause. "Oh God, JC," he gasps, still loving to say his name, to remind both of them what an incredibly intimate moment this is. Yeah, they're fucking, and it's hot and hard and sweaty ... but it's something else, too, because it's THEM.

"You're so hot, baby boy," JC tells him, freezing when he can tell he's brushed directly against Justin's prostate by his sharp hiss. He pushes against it again with the tip of his cock, reminding himself that he doesn't have to do this long, or much; he's just teasing, bringing Justin closer before he can shove himself all the way back in again. He circles his hips slowly, concentrating on keeping that spot stimulated. "You don't know what you do to me."

Justin feels constant waves of pleasure going through him now as JC continues to rotate his hips. He can hardly verbalize what he's feeling, and again doesn't know what to do with his arms when he's not using them to thrust inside himself. Right now, on his stomach, he can't even reach out to JC with them so he clutches the sheets compulsively and bucks up against him. "I think," he gasps out, "I'm FEELING what I do to you ... "

"Not yet, you're not," JC assures him, gripping his hips tightly when Justin moves against him, losing control for a moment as a result and slamming into him, just once, before pulling mostly back out and finding that spot again. He keeps his hands clamped to Justin, preventing him from moving any more as best he can. "You'll get your chance though. I want you to fuck me even better than this."

Justin feels a slight burst of nerves at that expectation, but doesn't show it. "JC ... " he says, his voice quavering in time with the shudders going through his body. His legs are visibly shaking with the erotic tension. "I can't take this much longer ... " Tiny explosions are going off in his brain, and he's losing the ability to even distinguish one sensation from another. It's all becoming a haze of torturous pleasure.

"No?" JC asks, reluctantly removing his hand from Justin's cock and withdrawing gently, leaning back on his haunches. "Okay, then: I want you on your back, spreading your legs for me. I want to see you when this makes you come."

Justin whimpers a little as JC withdraws, then inhales sharply as JC tells him what he's going to do. With little help from JC he rolls over onto his back. His face -- his whole body -- is flushed and his lips are moist. He wastes no time spreading his legs, knees up, hanging open, and feels like a bit of a slut for JC. But then, that's exactly what he IS, right now. He's completely pliant, panting a little, waiting for JC to put his hands back onto his body and do whatever he wants with it. To it. With HIM.

JC watches Justin turn over, watches him settle into the sheets, watches him expose himself to JC again. He sees just how dark and hard Justin's cock has grown, from the direct sensation of his hand, the stimulation of his prostate, and maybe a little from having JC just take him like he's doing? He runs a finger down its length, then wraps a hand beneath one of Justin's knees, falling forward and putting his weight on his other palm on the mattress. But he doesn't come close to penetrating Justin again, doesn't let his own cock anywhere near him. He's curious about how long Justin can withstand the void first.

Justin sucks in harsh breath after harsh breath, beginning to squirm in JC's hands. His eyes are open, wide, and he says with them what he can't with words. Begs with them, and with the soft whimpers that escape his throat. He begins to tremble and again feels the impotence of his own hands, using one to clutch the sheets as the other reaches out, almost instinctively, for JC.

JC crawls closer, hovering over his torso, still cupping his leg. He can see the pleading in Justin's face, but it's not enough for him. He rubs idly at Justin's thigh before lifting it and settling it against his hip, reaching behind himself to help Justin hook his calf around his ass. His other leg is still spread wide, foot against the bed, and JC can see him press down on it as he lifts his hips off the sheets. He sucks one of his own fingers into his mouth, then, and resumes tracing along Justin's length with it. "This IS going to make you come, Justin," he says softly, his eyes darkening just a little. "I just wanna be in there when it does."

"Please," says Justin finally, his voice needy. "Please be in me, C." He pushes his hips up again, making himself as easily accessible as possible. He's still trembling as he squeezes his eyes shut, hoping with each moment that passes that JC will again drive himself inside him. Fill him. Fuck him. He isn't used to this teasing, this agonizing anticipation.

JC grabs his shaft, just beneath the head, and positions it against Justin once again. Slowly, careful not to move his hips at all, his other hand grips the ankle of the leg Justin doesn't already have wrapped around him and pulls it up onto his shoulder, taking away almost all of Justin's leverage. He gently he nudges the very tip of his cock inside Justin's ass then, pauses a second, and bites his lip hard as he pulls back out. "Say it again."

"Fuck me," gasps Justin, unable to twist his body enough to push back against JC now. This is it. JC is in total control. "PLEASE, JC -- " His voice is loud enough now to be heard beyond the bedroom walls " -- I NEED you INSIDE me." There's no shame now, in asking for it, in BEGGING for it. Anything, to get JC to thrust inside him again, to make him come. "Oh God, please, I'll do anything ... "

"Mmm, FUCK," JC bites out in return as he clasps awkwardly at Justin's hip, shoving his groin flush against Justin's ass, burying himself in that tightness again. This isn't how he wanted to do it, this wasn't him being in control -- because JC doesn't remember feeling so *out* of control, like he couldn't hold back, or make himself stop, had his life depended on it. He wanted everything to end smoothly but passionately, Justin coming and him following shortly. He doesn't think that's going to happen, he realizes morosely, feeling how haphazard and greedy his thrusts are -- plenty of passion, but nothing remotely smooth.

"Yes," says Justin, both gasping for breath and breathing a sigh of relief. "YES! God ... thank you." It's wonderful now, JC acting as reckless as he feels, driving into him with a definite goal in mind. He feels WANTED, like JC can't control himself around him, and that's a bit of one of his fantasies, too. He pushes back against him as much as he can, but it's still JC's show and he's being DONE, for the first time.

JC's voice gets louder with non-sensical grunts as he continues to pump in and out of Justin's ass, deeply then shallowly, quickly then agonizingly slow. His stomach brushes against Justin's cock with most of his thrusts and JC stares down at it with strange detachment, fucking too hard to spare a hand to jerk him off with. A loud voice in his head is telling him: 'don't come yet, don't you *dare* come yet, you *know* Justin doesn't expect that you'll make him come before you, you better prove him wrong..."

JC is hitting his prostate with almost every thrust, and Justin is again dizzy with lust. He closes his eyes against the waves of pleasure that are washing over him. The sensations are so intense, so frequent that he doesn't know which one is going to send him over the edge, only knows that one of them will, soon. On of them HAS to or he's going to go crazy from the ecstasy. He mumbles something about how good he feels -- he thinks -- then sinks back into the bed and finally lets JC do all the work. FInally just lets JC fuck him senseless, the way he's been wanting it all along.

Sensing Justin's complete submission, JC doesn't slow down but instead concentrates on fucking him as deeply and as fundamentally as he can. His knees struggle for purchase on the sheets, his hands creep up Justin's back and grip his shoulders, shoving him down onto his cock as he thrusts. He feels his orgasm building strongly, and convinces himself he can pull out and prolong it if he has to, to get Justin off first.

Justin feels his whole body moving with JC's thrusts, pushing him into the bed, against the pillow, against the headboard. "Fuck. Yes," he mutters, again and again. Suddenly he explodes in orgasm, feeling it first in his brain and in his gut and THEN in his cock which spurts across their stomachs. Normally, at this point, he has to stop thrusting as the orgasm hits him; JC just keeps going, and he discovers how amazing it feels to have someone pumping into him as he comes.

For the second time in what seems like a split-second, JC is surprised by the turn of events. He had no idea Justin was that close to orgasm, and it took him a moment to register that he was feeling him come on his stomach. It was so wholly unprepared for that he kept thrusting, the constracting of Justin's ass not immediately triggering his own orgasm like he thought it might.

Justin feels JC continue to ride his ass and moans, rolling against him, exploring this whole new side of sex. "You're wonderful," he murmurs, his body relaxing, coming down off that orgasmic high. He seems even MORE flexible now, if that's possible, the weight of JC's body bending him in improbable ways.

"Aw, fuck, Justin," he groans, touching his forehead to the other man's chest. "I fucking CAN'T ... " He bites his lip and cries out as he comes too, buried in Justin's ass, feeling the heat of his cum spread inside the condom and wishing Justin could feel it too.

Justin feels the shift in JC's body, feels the change in his motions, and wraps his arms around him, holding him close.

"Oh, god," JC mumbles, barely aware that he's speaking. "Fuck, we need to do that again, and make it about you ..." He runs his hands restlessly over Justins' legs, willing to let them down if he seems like he needs to. Justin seems pretty comfortable where he is. "That wasn't about me?" he says quietly. "Then sex that IS about me might fucking KILL me, C. That was ... " He just exhales softly without finishing the sentence.

JC stretches up to kiss Justin gently, still buried inside him. "What was it? I think you need to do that more. With me."

"Mind-blowing," finishes Justin, though the word is inadequate.

Smiling tenderly at him, JC falls back on his knees, pulling gently out of the other man and cracking his back before he stands up. "What you hoped for? Better? Worse?" He winces as he rolls off the condom.

Justin lets his legs fall back to the bed and waits for JC to rejoin him. "Parts of it were what I imagined," he says. "Parts, though, I couldn't have imagined. Never would have DREAMED that something could feel so fucking GOOD. Wow. Why didn't anyone TELL me?"

"What, you think when we talked to you about this shit, it was to hear our own voices?" JC chuckles, tossing the condom in the trash. "You're so fucking precious; what'm I gonna do with you?" "I STILL, however, think you vastly underestimate how good I can make it when I do myself," Justin defends himself. "But ... okay, yeah. Sex with you is good. Great. Uh huh. Yeah." Justin gets lost for a moment, thinking about it. JC waves his hand in front of Justin's face. "Hey, earth to baby boy..." He throws himself onto the bed and stretches out next to Justin sleekly. "How'm I supposed to respond to you talking about doing yourself after I just fucked you, huh?"

Justin turns his head and kisses JC, deeply. "It's kind of hard, not to compare them right now. I have nothing else to compare it TO, after all." He drops his voice to a whisper. "That was my FIRST TIME, JC. And it was with you. And it was amazing."

Flushing, JC pulls back. "Yeah? *I* thought it was good. I didn't ... uh, hurt you, did I?" JC can't help but ask this question every time they do something.

"Hurt me?" says Justin. "No way. You'd have to be a LOT rougher than that to EVER hurt me." He licks his lips, kisses him again. "And you haven't hurt me in any other way, either."

"I hope that wasn't a challenge," JC grumbles, sucking on the lip that Justin offers him, letting his palm rest on his ass. "No crying, this time?" "Not yet," says Justin. "Um ... don't freak if I do, okay? If I do ... it only means it just REALLY hit me what I just did, and what it meant to me. OKay?

JC nuzzles against him, suddenly chilly. "You said it wasn't a big deal, though," he reminds him. "That it meant more to me to think I was taking your virginity, than it did to you."

"It was a bigger deal than I thought it would be," Justin confesses, looking JC in the eye, his voice soft. "Thank you, C. For making it wonderful."

"Was it?" JC asks, somewhat rhetorically. "Like, 'I'll-tolerate-it' wonderful, or 'I'm-climbing-into-your-bed-every-night' wonderful?"

"Why would I need to climb into your bed?" asks Justin. At JC's worried frown he quickly adds, "I'm never letting you leave THIS one. Ever." Giggling, JC pushes at Justin's chest playfully before burrowing his face in his neck. "I have to get up SOMETIME, Just. Plus, you'll get bored of me eventually."

"Never," says Justin adamantly. "JC ... seriously ... I am NOT going to get bored of you." JC sighs and starts petting Justin's stomach comfortingly. "You'll do this with other people, eventually, Justin. You'll want to. You'll NEED to." He kisses him then, deeply, wondering if they'll ever have a post-coital conversation that didn't degenerate like this.

"Why would I want to do it with anyone else?" asks Justin, quite seriously. "Or ... " He suddenly becomes dejected. "I guess YOU will, though, huh."

"Justin," JC says firmly, kneading his ass, "I was your first. Your FIRST. ARen't you even the least bit curious about what someone else can do for you that I can't?"

"Nope," says Justin, moving closer to him. "Seriously, JC, no."

Nuzzling his nose, JC smiles fondly at Justin. He figures everyone feels like that, about their first. "Okay. Did I tell you that you're precious? 'Cause you are. And THAT'S not patronizing, either." "Yes, it is," says Justin, with a sigh. "But that's okay. I'll let it go because it makes me sound cute. Do you believe me, though?" "About?" JC plays dumb, trailing his fingers over Justin's face, his jaw, his lips. "That's you're the only one for me. This isn't the first time I've said it, C ... " He closes his eyes, but is still hyperaware of EXACTLY where JC is.

"Okay, shhh," JC says, brushing Justin's hair off his forehead. "I've heard you. I believe you mean it. It's okay; it doesn't mean you have to *prove* anything." "I'm not trying to prove anything," says Justin. "I'm worried that I'm going to have to convince you not to leave me. Was I .. bad, or something?"

"Was I talking about me, needing to find someone else?" JC asks, pressing his lips to Justin's face again. "And for fuck's sake, NO, you weren't bad. Did I make you feel that way?" Justin grins a little sheepishly. "Maybe I just want to hear that I wasn't, huh?" "What the fuck?" JC asks, smiling with his mouth but not his eyes. "I already said, like twice, that I can't hardly wait to do it again with you."

Justin sighs. "First time. Insecure. Humor me, would you?" JC smiles for real, and rolls next to Justin, grabbing his hand and placing it on JC's limp cock. "Feel that? You fucking wore me out. All the things I wanted to do to your body, and never got to, because I got so caught up in how fucking hot you were. I WANT to do it again."

"Good," says Justin. "Because I do, too." He pauses for a moment. "JC ... do you even KNOW what kind of a ... a monumental change this is, for me?" "Kiss me," JC tells him, "and then explain it to me. It seems like you mean something more than just pretending to lose your virginity for my benefit." "Pretending?" says Justin, pausing and blinking at him in hurt confusion.

"KISS me," JC repeats more firmly, tugging on Justin's neck. "And, yeah, pretending. You said that wasn't what this was, for you." "I was wrong," says Justin softly, tearing up a little before rushing in for a hard kiss. "You were," JC tells him gently after he pulls back. "Is it okay to be glad it was me, too? I'm not going to use this against you, you know."

Justin` really wants to believe that. "Of course it's okay," he says. "It's not pretend, JC. I wouldn't pretend."

"If it's not pretend, what made you realize you were wrong?" JC asks him, resting a palm on Justin's belly and closing his eyes. "What was the big change?"

"I don't KNOW," says Justin, putting a hand to his chest. "It's inside. I didn't know it would be ... THIS. I thought it would just be sex, but this isn't SEX ... not the way *I* knew sex ... before. This is just all different ... "

"Different?" JC echoes, shivering a little when Justin touches him. "I should've been more gentle, then. And we should've waited until I was sober ... that special occasion you wanted, or whatever ..."

"No," says Justin. "This was ... this was right. Whatever the hell THAT means. It FEELS right, the way it happened. It feels good. I just ... " He turns his head so he's facing JC dead-on. "I could never have understood what it was all about, without doing it. I know that now. And YOU showed me that. And it's wonderful."

JC doesn't want to show how pleased that makes him, so he ducks his head. "It is," he whispers, then clears his throat. "How DID it happen? I mean, one second you're pushing me off you, then you're offering me sex even though I thought you wanted to wait...?"

"You chose me," says Justin. "You CHOSE me, JC. Over anyone else." And it's as easy as that, when it comes down to it. Despite the fact that JC was far from sober, despite the fact that he'd come on too strong, he'd given up something SO easy -- Joey -- because he'd wanted to be with Justin.

It doesn't occur to JC to understand why that's a big deal to Justin -- the way he sees it, there are *plenty* of people that would choose Justin over everyone else, and be able to offer him more than JC -- that undefined relationship-type-thing he wants. It *does* occur to him to ask, then, if that's what getting to sleep with Justin MEANS. But he doesn't. "Like I said, I TOLD you I wouldn't do anything with Joey while we were doing stuff. You didn't believe me, I guess?"

"I believed you," says Justin. "But it's one thing to take it on faith, and another to see it happen. JC ... it really did look like you had. And I was CRUSHED. So ... finding out that you didn't, after all ... made me feel SO good. You don't even know."

"You believe me NOW, though, right?" JC rolls over to look at him, suddenly worried that even what HAD happened between him and Joey before JC left -- the kissing, and the groping -- would be considered just as bad in Justin's book. He assumes that Justin hasn't let himself think too much about what had to happen to have gotten JC aroused to the point he was when he found Justin.

"I believe you now," says Justin, his hand still on JC's chest. "For sure. You're with ME."

JC doesn't quite know how to respond to that, or even how to interpret it. "Justin ... at some point, I have to ask you what that means...?"

"What what means?" asks Justin innocently, stroking his chest a little.

"Justin," JC says more firmly, grabbing the hand Justin has on his torso and grasping it in his own, kissing the tips of his fingers. "What it means when you say that I'm 'with' you."

"Well ... I mean you're *with* me," says Justin. "We're having sex ... and other stuff. What does it NOT mean to you, JC? I think maybe that should be the question ... "

"What's the other stuff?" asks JC, avoiding or ignoring, or both, Justin's attempt to make *him* define it.

"I don't know yet," says Justin, his spirits falling again. "Maybe nothing. Depends on BOTH of us, i guess."

Surprisingly, or not so surprisingly, the fact that Justin doesn't have it all established in his head makes JC infinitely more comfortable, and he kisses him gratefully. "I can work with that," he says, meaning it. "Can we start with me sleeping with you, tonight?"

"I'd be really unhappy if you didn't," says Justin, kissing him back. "Everything feels a little shaky right now. *I* feel a little shaky. I think I need you here."

"Can I ... do anything, for you?" JC asks, really unsure about how delicately he has to treat Justin, still wary of him crying. "Is it, like, upset-shaky? Or regretful-shaky?"

"No, I don't regret anything," insists Justin. "Just ... shaky. It's kinda hitting me," he says, with a bit of a grin. "I just had SEX with you."

JC's own mouth curls into a smile. "Yup. You did. Quite a bit to be said for stuff that's done in the heat of the moment, huh?"

Justin sighs happily. Even know, when it's done, it DOES feel good, and he feels good about it. "We have to do that again."

"Right now?" JC nuzzles against him, taking Justin's fingers into his mouth again and sucking slowly. That wouldn't necessarily be such a bad idea.

Justin` laughs a little, licking his lips as JC starts doing incredible things to his body again. "Do you even think you can get it up again?"

JC shrugs and presses a thigh between Justin's legs. "Never hurts to try. How 'bout you?"

"I can take it again," Justin assures him, his heart already racing. His ASS can take it, sure, but the rest of him might just burst from the overload.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," JC mutters as he pushes Justin onto his back. "You see? You see what you do to me?"

Justin grins proudly. God, he can do THAT to another person. "I see," he says. "Do you see ME? JC .. look at ME, I'm wanting this, I'm wanting YOU, I'm wanting something other than myself. Needing it, maybe." And THAT -- especially saying it out loud -- is scary.

JC reaches down between Justin's legs, pleased to find that he is already starting to get aroused, and starts stroking him to fullness. He starts sucking on Justin's neck as he does, mumbling into his throat. "I'm glad you do. This could be incredibly awkward if it was one-sided."

"Do you need me?" Justin asks as he arches his groin into JC's touch.

"Right now I need you more than anything," JC tells him, settling against his body, still tuggling gently on his cock. "Is there any way I can convince YOU to fuck ME, this time?" JC isn't sure if Justin's change of heart would apply to that to ... and again, it never hurts to try.

Justin hesitates. "I ... I don't think I'm ready for that," he admits. He doesn't like admitting things, but he'd rather tell JC that and have them wait -- because he DOES trust JC to wait for him now -- than do it now and regret that later.

"Okay," JC says easily. "I want it, though," he breathes in Justin's ear. "I liked fucking you so, SO much ... but I know I'll *love* having your dick inside me."

Justin shivers a little. "I'm sure I'll love it, too," he says. "When I'm ready." He runs a hand over JC's body, feels it's warmth, the lingering traces of sweat on its surface.

"Well, get ready fast, okay?" JC nips his earlobe, the joking obvious in his tone, before he feels Justin shiver. "Hey ... you okay? You still into this?"

"Yeah," says Justin, grinning a little again. "Still a little blown away by this whole thing ... "

"You keep saying that," JC tries not to frown, wondering if he's supposed to be stopping it, supposed to be more sensitive. "Uh ... maybe we should wait until tomorrow ...?"

"I'm not going to be any less blown away tomorrow," says Justin, wrapping an arm around JC's waist. "Who was YOUR first time with, C?"

"JESUS, Justin," JC chuckles, slumping against him, pulling his hands away, pretty sure that's a good indication that they're not about to have sex again after all. "You wanna talk about this why?"

"What?" says Justin. "Is that SUCH a strange question? I've got it on the brain. What ... is it something you don't want to talk about?"

"No, no," JC assures him, rolling off Justin and onto his back on the bed beside him. "We can. I understand. Your timing is just ... well."

"Sorry," mutters Justin, sighing. "Does that mean I ruined the mood, or some shit?"

*Basically, yeah,* JC thinks to himself, sighing and laying his cheek on Justin's chest. He's starting to sober up, making him drowsy and a little more short-tempered. Once again he thinks that if the sex hadn't been so good, all the headgames he was having to play with Justin -- being reassuring and accomodating, promising a relationship of SOME sort -- wouldn't be worth it. But he *does* want Justin to feel comfortable with everything that's happened, or it might not happen again. And if that requires talking instead of fucking or drinking or sleeping ... well, he can do it for a little while.

"No," he says simply. "What's on your mind, baby boy?"

"Nothing," says Justin sullenly, watching JC's expressions change. "I just asked a stupid fucking question, okay? I'm taking it back now. Don't answer. Just ... do whatever. Do what you were *planning* to do." He lies back and waits.

It's stuff like *that* that JC doesn't have the energy or presence of mind to handle appropriately right then. "Justin," he sighs, "come on. It wasn't a stupid question, I just ... didn't think you'd want to hear about the other people I've slept with as foreplay, or whatever. So tell me. What d'you wanna know?"

"I just asked who your first was. That's all," says Justin. "Christ. Is it such a surprise I want to know? I just wanted to know what YOU felt like, when YOU were in this position. Wanted to know I'm not alone in these feelings. Or maybe I AM alone. Maybe you didn't feel so strongly about it. I don't know anymore. Maybe I'm being a TOTAL freak about this."

Well, this at least JC remembers better than his first blowjob, but it's still not something he's entirely sure Justin's going to want to know once he tells him, so he avoids what he thinks Justin *really* means by his 'first.' "Well ... I lost my virginity to Keri. Um ... when we were fifteen? And I guess it was a big deal but it was also something that I did 'cause I thought I was supposed to. It wasn't like ... what we just did. It didn't make me *feel* like that. Maybe it was our age, or the fact that she's a girl, or that neither of us knew what we were doing ... I was confused, Justin, sure. It's okay to be."

"That's not -- " starts Justin, then stops, looks away and shakes his head. "Never mind," he says. "You OBVIOUSLY have no idea what I'm talking out." He reaches for the night table, slips his glasses back on; the mood is just GONE now, probably for both of them. "Thanks for confirming the freakishness of my reaction, though." He looks JC in the eye. "Seriously. Thanks for being honest. You can go now. I think I should probably deal with this alone."

Justin's dismissal hits a little too close to home, and JC really has to restrain himself from snapping back. Is it fundamentally impossible for him to sleep with someone that isn't going to just kick him out afterwards, for one reason or another? "Will you just fucking *talk* to me?" he pleads, willing to beg a little, even just to *talk*, if it means he doesn't have to go back to his own room alone. "I'm sorry I didn't get your cryptic question right away. Did you or did you not ask me about the first person I had sex with?"

"You're right, I did," admits Justin. "I thought you understood I was asking you about the first person who fucked you, considering I was asking for something to RELATE to, but I guess you just didn't want to answer that. Because God forbid you tell me anything I need to hear. It's just more fun to skirt around the topic and play games, isn't it?" Justin rolls over onto his side, still looking at JC. "Is this how it's always going to be, you hiding yourself from me and me opening myself up to you? Because that's just really not cool, C. I can deal with the drinking, and I can deal with your past, but I can't deal with THAT. Not forever."

"I'm not hiding anything," JC frowns, running a finger over Justin's eyebrow, grateful that Justin didn't really seem to mean that he had to go. "And I'm not playing games, I was just ... trying to avoid telling you something you might not *want* to hear. Do you see where I'm going with this? It just might be better saved for some time when you're not so ... vulnerable."

"Five minutes ago I might have agreed with you," says Justin, "but now ... I'd rather know." He runs a finger down JC's stomach, then traces the crease where his legs meet his torso. He watches the motions of his own hand, rather than JC's face. "If you aren't comfortable telling me, just SAY so. Don't try and mislead me, or change the subject. Do you have THAT much trouble being honest?"

JC bristles somewhat at that, and has to force himself not to blurt out the answer to Justin's question as a way to get back at him for what JC considers an insult. "When have I not been honest with you? You know, Justin, trying to goad me into telling you, by pointing out all my shortcomings, isn't really gonna convince me that this is something you can handle hearing. I don't have any problem saying it; pardon me for worrying you might have trouble accepting it."

Justin wonders why his gentle tone would set JC off so much. "I didn't mean honest like you don't tell me the truth, C. I mean honest in the sense that there's a lot off stuff you don't tell me, period. What does that say about ME, that you can't do that?" He continues stroking JC's stomach and hips as he talks, keeping his tone calm and gentle, hoping that will get him further. "I'm really liking doing this with you, but it's hard when you make me feel like a kid that you're doing a favour for."

Realizing that, in some ways, that's really not that far from the truth, JC suddenly feels a little sheepish. "I'll work on that," he murmurs. "It's not you." Justin's touch is really warm, and comforting, and JC can feel himself relaxing against him. He's run over a couple different scenarios in his head about how to tell Justin what's he's asking, but after being reprimanded about not being open -- and feeling a little safer in his arms -- he just tells him, and waits for the reaction. "The first guy I let fuck me was Joey, Justin."

"Joey?" says Justin, frowning but not stilling the motion of his hand. "Really? But ... when?" He doesn't quite understand, but it certainly wasn't the answer he was expecting. With Joey ... he doesn't think it could have been tender or slow or any of the things it SHOULD be, your first time. "How?"

"How?" JC chuckles a little, very relieved that Justin didn't push him off the bed again. "I thought you were pretty familiar with the mechanics by now?" He leans over and presses a kiss to Justin's shoulder. "But, yeah, Joey. It was forever ago, Just; back on the show, maybe just before you joined. I wanted it to be someone I knew, too; just like you." Joey wasn't shy about disabusing him of any hopes of a relationship afterwards, however -- close friends or not -- and when JC lets himself think about it he realizes that has a lot to do with how he himself treats sex now.

"Was he good to you?" asks Justin, realizing a moment later that JC's probably going to laugh at him for asking that. Wonder why he thinks it matters so much. But it DOES. " God, you were both just KIDS, then." How could they POSSIBLY have been mature enough to have sex, back then? "I didn't want it to just be someone I knew, JC," he adds, instead of pursuing that. "I wanted it to be YOU." He hand trails up JC's side as he speaks, then back down to caress his thigh.

JC subconsciously moves closer to Justin, wanting to be petted more. "We *were* kids," JC agrees, choosing not to let Justin change the subject so quickly without giving him a chance to respond, even if he isn't so willing to go into all the things it did to him to have Joey be so casual about it after-the-fact ... even if JC was the same way *beforehand*. In that way, he sees a lot of similarities between Justin's reaction and his own. "Maybe we didn't know what we were doing, but everything turned out okay, right?"

Justin wants to say 'No, everything DIDN'T turn out okay' but he knows that would only make JC mad, and didn't want to go there again, not right now. "If you say so," he says non-committally instead, and looks down at his wandering hand again. "Are you glad it was him? Especially given everything that's happened between you since?" He wants to ask again, 'But was he GOOD to you?' but that, too, falls into the category of things-that-would-just-make-JC-mad-again.

Somehow JC thinks telling Justin 'it could have been worse' isn't what he needs to hear. Plus, he's not quite sure which direction he's going in with the 'everything that's happened since' comment. "You mean the fact that we're not dating, or something?" he asks quietly, wondering it *that's* what's worrying Justin. "I *am* glad it was him. We were friends before, and friends after. And it was good; or we wouldn't still be doing it. You can't really ask for much more than that." JC shifts his leg against Justin's hip, wanting even more of their skin in contact -- feeling a little vulnerable himself from dredging up these memories.

"*I* can," says Justin, looking a bit surprised. "*I* can ask for more than that. I AM asking for more than that." He bites his lip, REALLY not wanting to make JC angry. "You guys use each other for sex," he says. "Or maybe it's just him using you, I don't know. But ... I don't want this to be like that. I don't want US to be like that. Is that what YOU want? Is that where you're going with this, with sleeping with me?"

JC is too tired -- from the drinking, the hour, the sex -- to bother to get offended about the way Justin sees JC's relationship with Joey, whether or not JC agrees with him. He's also too drained to put any thought into Justin's question when it's something he hasn't had one sober or solo minute to devote to it since Justin kissed him the night before. "I don't know what I want from you," he tells him simply and honestly, "but I won't use you. I won't string you along and feed you lines just so you'll keep coming back." He ducks his head and kisses Justin's arm again before continuing softly. "And when I say that, it doesn't mean I think that's what Joey does, so just do me a favor and try not to assume too much."

"I didn't think I was making such a big leap," says Justin boldly. "Joey's not with you JC. He's with Lance. So any way you look at it, your sleeping with him isn't such a good thing." He eyes JC for a moment, his face hard. "And I'm thinking your sleeping with me isn't such a good thing, either. LIke ... maybe I just made a really big mistake." He pulls his hand away, moves closer to the side of the bed. "Don't know what you want?" he repeats, more quietly. "Fuck that, I don't want that, I'd rather be screwing myself again. At least I had answers, then."

"If that's what you want," JC says meekly, thinking he shouldn't be surprised that being honest with Justin didn't turn out to be what the younger man needed, after all. He rolls over onto his back and stares up at the ceiling, feeling maybe lonelier than he ever has. "You're not being fair, you know," he tells him sadly. "I asked you like ten minutes ago what you meant when you said you wanted to be 'with me,' and you told me sex and 'other stuff.' And when I *asked* about the other stuff, you said you didn't know yet. But now you're gonna kick me out 'cause I don't know either?"

"That's different," mutters Justin. He neither leaves the bed, nor makes JC go. "My I-don't-know meant I didn't know exactly what else was going to happen, other than being together. Your I-don't-know meant you didn't know IF you wanted to be with me, as anything more than fuck buddies. I can be my own fuck buddy, thanks. Sex with you is GREAT, JC. It's every fucking thing you said it would be. But I don't want JUST sex. I never did. Maybe I needed to be clearer on that a long time ago."

"I already gave you shit about that, in the bathroom," JC reminds him. "And you said you'd tell me from now on if there were things like that I should know. But it's this 'being together' thing that's the issue, right? You can't define it either, Justin, so you know you shouldn't get mad at me for not having all the answers about *why* I'm doing it. 'Cause, I mean, I know I've done stuff to prove to you that I wasn't just out to get laid." He rolls over into his side and looks at Justin with wide eyes. "What's bugging you, really? You were *scared* of me leaving five minutes ago."

"I'm not MAD at you," says Justin. He moves so that he's sitting up against the pillows and pulls his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. "I just ... I really hate uncertainty. When it was just me, I KNEW what the hell was going on. And NOW, now you fucking OWN me, JC, and you don't even know it. Or don't even care. I don't know which. I don't even know anymore why you chose me over Joey, if what you've got going with him is so good, and I'm so wrong about it." He pauses, then presses his forehead to his knees. "Maybe there are some things I haven't said enough, because I don't want to lose you so quickly. Okay? And I'm not sure you REALLY want to hear them."

"I just want to hear what you think," JC assures him, wanting to sit up next to him but not wanting to come across like an older brother or something. "It helps me make good decisions, *right* decisions, if I don't have to guess about how what we're doing is affecting you. So if there's stuff you should say ... just say it. I don't want to leave, right now." He bites his lip, still looking at Justin's bowed head. "You know what I do with Joey isn't like that, isn't like *this*, Justin."

"You're right, though," says Justin. "I don't know what you ... DO ... with Joey. So who am I to judge?" He lifts his head again, but his arms are still tightly wrapped around his legs. "JC ... listen carefully, okay? Because I'm being serious here. I've wanted you to be my first for a long time. Longer than you know. I don't WANT anyone else, and I never have. If I'm not with you, I'm going to be doing myself again. It won't be easy now, to lose this, but that's what'll happen." He sighs. "I bet you think I'm telling you this to put pressure on you to stay with me. Well ... I'm not. I don't want you to go, and I never will if you're faithful, but you aren't OBLIGATED to say with me, just because I'm yours. I won't be a fucking puppy dog or anything. Don't worry, I have LOTS of experience, being alone."

JC turns his head so he's facing away from Justin, still lying on his stomach. He really *had* underestimated how strongly Justin seemed to feel about him, and for how long. That worries him, mostly because he doesn't know what he could ever have done to make Justin -- who isn't perfect, certainly, but who's so smart, and talented, and genuinely sensitive, and not USED -- fall for him. Especially without trying. Which makes him think that he'll only ever disappoint him, as he inevitably learns over and over again what a fuck-up JC's become. "I don't think you're pressuring me," he mumbles finally, into the blankets. "It would be hard for me to lose this too, now."

"Then don't, okay?" says Justin. "Don't lose this. Don't question it. Don't try and sabotage it." He looks JC in the eye as best he can. "And I won't do those things either, okay? You can just be honest with me. Straightforward. You don't think I know you? Do you really think that most of what you say is a surprise to me? Newsflash -- it's not. I know what I'm getting into here and you can actually talk to me about yourself and tell me the things I DON'T know, so I don't fuck this up, either. Yeah, okay, sex and relationships are all new to me, but I'm willing to TRY, JC."

"Why?" JC turns to him, eyes blurry, the drive to get some answers too much to hold in anymore. "Why do you want this so bad, Justin? I know you don't respect me very much, or think I'm capable of very much. You don't seem to *like* me very much: how I spend my time, the way I treat other people. There. Be straightforward about *that*. 'Cause it's really easy for me to think this is just about sex, even for *you*, when that's basically the only time we've gotten along in the last 48 hours."

"Fine, I will," says Justin, looking down at him. "Why do I want you? Sometimes I don't know. Sometimes I see you falling-down drunk, fucking around with people -- in both the literal and figurative sense -- and generally just being an ass. And I wonder, why you? But fuck, JC, sometimes we just can't help who we fall for, you know? I knew you before all this, when you weren't innocent, but you weren't this jaded either. And you looked out for me. And I see who you are when you aren't busy being fucked up -- tender and emotional. You sing like a fucking ANGEL, JC. And you ARE smart, when you aren't busy killing brain cells.

"I know that guy's you, inside, and I'm willing to take what I can get of him. Even if it means holding you while you're puking and cleaning up after you, or getting on your case about sleeping with someone else's boyfriend or even just having to try SO damn hard to get you to open up. Because I think you're capable of a great deal, and I DO like you, and I DO want to be with you. It's not about the sex, and it never has been. I've wanted you LONG before that was even discussed, let alone done. Okay? Is that what you were waiting to hear? Because that's the truth. Straight up, JC."

JC is not -- is NOT -- going to let himself cry over that, even if it IS the first time he's had anyone say anything like that to him: anything complimentary at all other than a comment on how hot his ass is, or how pretty he looks when he's sucking someone off. He never realized how wonderful it would feel ... and at the same time, how fucking *awful*, to realize he was 24 and got so messed up somewhere along the way that he never let anyone close enough to do it. He throws himself at Justin anyway, with sort of an aborted cry, pressing against him as tightly as he can. "You're too good for me," he tells him, his last attempt to keep Justin from making this mistake. "*That's* the truth."

Justin is surprised by the sudden appearance of JC's body, and he wraps his arms around him, holding him close. "See?" he says softly. "I told you I knew what I was getting into. And I have my OWN issues, JC, which I believe we've already discussed." He leans over and kisses the top of JC's head. "I'm not too good for you," he says. "I'm hoping maybe I'm just good enough."

"I can't promise you *anything*, Justin," JC tells him, sniffling a little into Justin's neck and holding back his tears, but barely. "You don't know how that made me feel, to hear you say all that to me ... but I still don't know what I'd be like if you wanted a 'relationship' with me. I obviously don't know how to think about anyone else, anymore. God, even the fucking BABY steps, like saying 'no' to Joey, are these huge obstacles. Do you get that? This is me, the relatively sober me, looking out for you, and telling you not to get yourself wrapped up in me. I'm not sabotaging it, but I don't see how it will ever end well."

"I've been wrapped up in you for years, JC," he says, trying not to let himself be upset by his words. He kisses JC's head again, cradles the back of JC's neck with his hand. "We have to try this, now. We've come too far not to. I won't call it a 'relationship' because that obviously scares the HELL out of you, so let's just say we're only going to sleep with each other right now, and go from there." He sighs, kisses him again. "And I'll accept that as enough. And if you wanted to do other things together, too, if you wanted to curl up against me when we're watching TV, or sleep with me at night, even if we don't have sex, and cook dinner for me, once in a while ... well, we can do those things, too. I'd like to." He smiles a little, even though JC can't see it. "I'm not going to try and 'save' you, JC, and I hope you're not gonna try and save me ... but if we can just try to do the things that make ourselves and each other happy, then I think this can work."

JC sighs, knowing that there's not anything else he can say to convince Justin he shouldn't do this. He went through the same damn thing, thinking Joey'd be the great love of his life after he let him fuck him ... the only difference was that he only got to live under that misconception for as long as it took Joey to take off the condom afterwards. JC knows why *he's* doing it -- he's lonely, *so* lonely, and Justin's pretty words and soft kisses are a better cure than his booze. But sooner or later, the gaping differences between their motivations are gonna cause a big problem. "Okay," he whispers, burrowing into Justin's warm hands. "You're not gonna make me leave, tonight, then?"

"No," says Justin, still holding him close. "I'm not going to make you leave tonight. I don't WANT you to leave tonight." He strokes a hand up and down JC's back. "You tired now, or do you wanna ... ?" He lets his hand roam down a little further, to brush the top of JC's ass. "If I become a sex addict, I'm blaming you, you know."

"I know," JC laughs, but it's watery and weak. "I'm a little tired, but ... " he pauses, and tries to figure out whether he should really be honest with Justin. "Look, I'm gonna try this straightforward thing you think you want: I'm not really -- I don't really want to do that, right now. Or that *way*, I guess? Don't take this the wrong way, but ... I don't think I want to fuck you. And I know you said you're not ready to do me -- which is fine, I can wait -- but that's more of what ... I need. So." He rests his face in the crook of Justin's neck. "Maybe we just kiss, tonight."

"Oh," says Justin, sagging a bit. "Well, okay. That's fine." Really, it means more to him, inside, that JC wants to just kiss and maybe cuddle tonight. It shows him, more than words could, that JC really ISN'T in it all for the sex. But he's feeling horny and with JC there he can't really do HIMSELF, so he's a bit stuck. And kissing JC isn't going to make that erection go down one bit. He's NOT ready to fuck him, though -- he knows that at least emotionally, that would just tear him apart, tonight. He reaches down, though, lifts JC's chin and kisses his lips. "I'd like that."

JC patiently lets Justin hold his face still as he kisses him, sliding his tongue inside Justin's mouth slowly. He keeps his arms curled up against the other man's chest but is careful not to push him away. He's still horny too, after all, but is feeling way too much guilt about Justin even *considering* that he's using him for sex to be able to fuck him. Plus, he's ready and willing to hand over the controls for a little while, especially because he's feeling exposed -- which makes him want what *he's* used to, for that sense of normalcy. Or ... "Um, Justin? I can suck you instead, if you want?"

"God, yes," moans Justin, then quickly adds, "if you want to." He strokes JC's back some more, gently. "You don't have to, or anything. I'd be happy if we just kissed."

JC laughs again. "Sure you would." He grabs behind Justin's legs and tugs him down a little further on the bed so he's reclining against the headboard, and then settles between his thighs. "How's that, baby boy?" he asks him, licking along his collarbone.

"Mmm, it's wonderful," says Justin, closing his eyes halfway. "But ... wait ... seriously, JC. I need you to know that I'd be okay if we didn't, okay?" He moans again. "Oh God, but I do want it ... "

Chuckling, JC thrusts his own hips slowly up against Justin's erection. "No kidding? Justin ... listen ... you're not gonna make me do anything I don't want to do, okay? That's why I said no to fucking you in the first place."

Justin sighs happily. "Okay, yeah, right ... " He reaches out and cups the back of JC's head again, pulling him into a long kiss. "I don't regret this," he whispers against JC's lip. "I want you to know that."

"Okay ... yeah ... right," JC teases him, nipping at Justin's lip with his teeth. He lets his hand snake down between them and brush along Justin's stomach and cock, smiling at the residue he feels on his fingertips.

Justin moans again. "Just tell me you believe me?" he says, thrusting upwards, chasing JC's touch.

"You're asking me -" JC hunches his shoulders to suck on one of Justin's nipples suggestively, "-to tell you that I believe you when you say you don't regret me sucking you? I think it's safe to say that."

"You know what I mean," breathes Justin, closing his eyes. "Oh ... that's nice ... "

"I think I've created a monster," JC mutters to himself, grinning regardless -- Justin's eagerness and responsiveness to his touches making all his fears fade for the moment. "Justin," he slides back up Justin's body to look directly into his eyes, "I know you're comfortable with what we've done. It's okay. Now let me do this?"

Justin opens his eyes to face him. "What? Oh ... yes. Yes, definitely. It's you ... you can do anything to me, C." He smiles then, and looks perfectly, innocently sexual.

JC kisses him deeply, then moves his lips quickly and purposefully down Justin's torso. "I'm sorry," he tells him, licking into Justin's navel. "for earlier."

"We need to stop apologizing to each other," says Justin as he lays back into the pillows. "We need to stop doing things to apologize for."

Chuckling, JC abruptly licks around the rim of Justin's cock. "You don't even know what I'm apologizing for."

"What are you -- Oh God! -- apologizing for?" he asks, half-moan.

"Well," JC murmurs, lapping at his shaft, moaning a little himself when he can taste some of the cum rubbed into the skin, "I just feel bad. You know. That I didn't give *this*" - he nudges the tip with his nose - "as much attention as it deserves. When I was fucking you," he adds unnecessarily.

"He doesn't need much attention when I'm being fucked," admits Justin, refused to be embarassed by that. "It's, um, all about my ass, frankly ... "

"So you *don't* want this blowjob, after all?" JC teases, secretly pleased that Justin can get off from being fucked, and wondering idly if that means they're going to end up fighting to bottom. If he could ever gets Justin's cock up his ass, that is.

"Oh no ... I didn't SAY that," argues Justin, wishing JC's lips were on his cock right then.

"Mm-hmm," JC pretends to think about it for a second, then lets the tip of his tongue experimentally taste the liquid oozing out of the slit of Justin's cock. "THAT doesn't sound too desperate, either." He drops his voice to an almost-growl. "You taste good, though."

"God, I love having a mouth on my cock," Justin blurts out, then blushes a little. "It's fucking amazing ... "

"Just *a* mouth?" JC repeats, pretending to be offended even as he lets his fingers start to massage Justin's balls.

"YOUR mouth," mumbles Justin, moaning. "Now please put it back."

So JC smiles, and does, leaning over Justin's groin and pressing his own hips into the mattress even as he holds Justin's still. He's not gentle, this time, or teasing; just sucking abruptly and hard.

Justin sucks in a harsh, loud breath. "Oh, FUCK," he says at the unexpected sensation and bucks up into JC's mouth involuntarily. "Yeah ... oh, yeah ... I love that ... you're SO good ... and you want ME ... " He arches his back again, his eyes squeezed shut, his attention completely focused on what JC is doing for him.

JC winces a little; not at the physical sensation, but at Justin's words. So far Justin hadn't said anything, when they were together, that made JC feel like he was a slut -- other than comments about Joey, but JC was coming to realize that was more jealousy than anything else. But this -- 'you're so good' -- Justin probably didn't mean it that way, but right now it just reinforced how inferior he feels to Justin. He pulls off Justin's cock slowly and slides up his body, slipping his arms under Justin's back. Then he rolls them both over so Justin's warm weight is on top of him.

"JC?" says Justin in confusion, though he isn't entirely DISpleased with where this has gone. "What -- " He changes his question partway through. "What do you want me to do?" he asks, leaning down to kiss him sloppily.

JC rests his palms on the globes of Justin's ass and squeezes gently, then lets his hands slide down to his thighs and pulls them up on either side of his hips so Justin is straddling his body. "C'mere," he says, looking at Justin steadily, with encouraging eyes. "Scoot up here." As he says that, he slips further down the bed, between Justin's legs, so that Justin's resting on his chest. With some combination of resignation and automatic response, JC is starting to treat Justin like any of the other guys he does this to, which means letting them fuck him. And if Justin won't fuck his ass, then he's gonna fuck his mouth.

"Do you like it like this?" asks Justin softly before he does, thinking that it's probably kind of uncomfortable for JC to do this. It would be for HIM, that's for sure, but maybe because he isn't used to taking much into his mouth. JC doesn't LOOK happy, though, which is a warning sign, but Justin is also really, really turned on, and it would be hard to stop.

"*You* will," JC tells him, before running a fingertip from Justin's tailbone down the crevice of his ass. "Consider it practice." He stretches up off the bed to taste the tip of Justin's erection, then lets his head fall back and licks his lips slowly. "Please, Justin ..."

JC had just as good as said he didn't like it like this, but Justin is torn because he really, really wants to, and JC is encouraging him to, and he can't form a really good reason to say no when his body is electric like this. He just hopes he won't regret it as he slides his cock down JC's throat and breathes a sigh of relief as he feels warm lips close over him again.

JC takes as much in as he can from this angle, stiffening slightly before he can help it when the head of Justin's cock rakes against the back of his throat. But he moans, anyway; because in a way it feels good, and feels natural and deserved, and he just wants to see Justin do something to *him* for once -- JC had even felt like he was the one running the show when Justin sucked him off in the bathroom. He grabs onto Justin's ass again, nudging him closer, even as he thrusts his own hips up into the empty air.

Justin closes his eyes again and tangles his fingers in JC's hair, letting one hand lazily brush the skin of JC's shoulder. This feels great, and he leans forward into the suction and thrusts gently. He's never fucked anything other than a mattress, really, but the motion comes pretty naturally.

Feeling the muscles of Justin's ass flex as he slides in and out of his throat, JC gets even more turned on than he was: this IS what he wanted, for Justin to just use his mouth; and his body is accustomed to getting off on that, too. He places his feet on the bed, lifting his hips a little so he can reach his own cock, and starts jerking off slowly, trying to match the pace Justin is setting.

Justin feels JC's body moving, adjusting, and exhales softly before he speaks. "I'll take care of you, too, C," he says, his voice soft and breathy. "I promise." He thrusts a little bit harder, but is still worried about being too rough, and JC's lips and tongue and throat are just AMAZING. So amazing he's surprised he was still able to speak.

Figuring Justin probably means it, but also very used to hearing things like that which are never followed through, JC keeps touching himself. He can tell the younger man is still holding back, too, and faint twinges of despair wash over JC: Justin must not like him enough, or be attracted to him enough, or trust him enough, to lose control from the sensation. Unable to speak, he just opens his eyes -- watching Justin's face, searching for any indication that JC is pleasuring him at all.

Justin's eyes are closed, his head tilted back, his wet lips parted as he pants softly for breath. His hands continue to roam JC's head and shoulders, restless now as energy is building up in him. It's hard to keep his hips from just pistoning into JC's mouth, getting himself off as hard and as quickly as he can. He manages to convince himself he doesn't need to, that JC knows what the fuck he's doing -- with his mouth on Justin's cock and his hand on his ass -- and he doesn't NEED to buck against the back of his throat to get off.

And besides ... he could NEVER bring himself to do something that might hurt JC's voice. Just ... never.

Justin looks beautiful, and JC feels a rush of affection for him even as he continues to regret and almost resent the gentle way he keeps touching JC. He whimpers a little, trying to plead with his eyes, and lets his hand slide up a bit to Justin's lower back -- still pressing him into his mouth. After a moment, he lifts his arm even higher, sliding it around Justin's shoulders and letting his fingertips brush against the other man's lips.

Justin sucks one of JC's fingers into his mouth, grazes his teeth along it lightly as his tongue swirls. His thrusts are gradually getting harder and deeper, but he's sensitive to the motions and sounds that JC is making, and vows to himself he'll back off if he feels or hears anything he would classify as 'bad'. He moans around JC's finger and his eyelids flutter a his groin begins to tighten.

Feeling Justin's wet mouth on his finger, and the vibrations from his moan, and his own warm fist on his shaft -- all coupled with the almost-but-not-quite-choking pain every time Justin thrusts a little more forcefully -- is more than enough to make JC groan from his chest as he comes all over his hand. He has the presence of mind to collect some of his cum on his fingers and almost immediately wipes them down over Justin's hole, slicking his opening, before thrusting two of them up inside Justin's still somewhat-loose ass.

"Oh, FUCK," Justin blurts out, his eyes flying open. JC's finger is still in his mouth and muffles his exclamation. The sensation of JC's abrupt entry sends him over the edge unpectedly and he thrusts, hard, into JC's throat as he comes. A few moments later, when the orgasm begins to subside and he begins to draw himself back, he realizes what he's done. His mouth drops open and JC's finger slides out. "Oh fuck, JC, I'm so sorry, I"m SO fucking sorry ... "

JC looks at Justin with wide eyes after he pulls out, swallowing experimentally a couple times before offering Justin a weak smile. "S'okay," he grates out with an alarmingly hoarse voice. "Did you like it?" He clears his throat as he slips his fingers out of Justin and runs his hand over his back comfortingly, waiting patiently for Justin to move off of him.

Justin quickly scuttles down the bed and kisses JC's lips and throat. "Oh God, oh God, I can't believe I just did that," he says, his voice breathless and rushed. "Oh God, I'm SO sorry, I can't tell you how sorry I am, I didn't mean to, JC." He buries his face in JC's shoulder as he strokes his throat with gentle fingertips. "Please forgive me," he mumbles. "Tell me what I can do to make it up to you."

JC tries not to jerk back from Justin's fingers on his throat, but he's frustrated -- both by Justin's concern, and the fact that he obviously *didn't* enjoy it, since he didn't answer JC when he asked if he did. So his raw throat was all for nothing. "It's fine," he mumbles scratchily, still petting Justin's back distractedly and clearing his throat again. "You don't have to make up for anything. And I won't make you do it again, either, I promise."

Justin looks up and frowns at him a little. "Fuck," he says. "You KNEW that was going to hurt you, didn't you? Jesus, JC, why did you have me do that if you knew it would hurt you?" Justin's eyes tear up a little. "Here I was having the fucking time of my life and you're in pain. That really SUCKS, JC. That REALLY sucks." Justin looks away, buries his face in JC's shoulder again so he won't see him crying, won't get mad over it.

"You didn't hurt me," JC says weakly, shrinking back a little into the pillows at Justin's tone of voice and coughing. "I really wanted it, Justin; I wanted you to fuck me, and you wouldn't do it any other way!" He takes a deep breath and turns over as much as he can with Justin still lying mostly on top of him.

Justin moves off of him sullenly and rolls away. "You tricked me," he says quietly. "Why would you DO that, JC? Fuck. Do you KNOW how bad I feel, now?" He buries his face in the pillow and won't even look at him.

"I didn't trick you," JC protests, but he knows it's the truth. He sits up on the bed and stretches his neck a little before swinging his legs over the edge. "I didn't think you'd get mad; I thought you wanted it. I'll just ... go. I'm sorry."

Justin rolls over and grabs him. "Christ, JC, leaving isn't the solution to everything, you know." He hauls him back onto the bed next to him. "Yeah, I wanted it, and it was fucking GOOD ... but not like that, JC. I don't get off on hurting you. Don't do that to me again, okay?"

JC lets Justin pull him around, completely unable to get out of his subservient mindset. Justin telling him how good he is -- implicitly, at sucking dick -- is just echoing in his head, and leaving seems natural. "Okay," he mumbles sullenly, feeling like he's obeying a command. "But you *did* get off on it, Justin. I knew you would."

"And I WOULD have gotten off on it even if you'd done it different," says Justin, touching him lightly now, seeing the frighteningly vacant look on JC's face. "And you didn't even let me suck you back, even though you obviously wanted -- needed -- to get off. Was I bad at it or something, after all? Because I would have liked that ... I TOLD you I would ... " He looks at JC pleadingly now, trying to get a reaction.

"No, you weren't bad," JC says softly, somewhat unemotionally, resting his cheek on Justin's shoulder. "And I know you offered. It's just that ... I don't mind doing that to myself, sometimes, when I'm trying to make the other ... when I'm trying to make *you* feel good. Don't be so worried about reciprocating; I don't expect it."

"I said *I* would have liked it," says Justin. "Doing that ... it's all new to me ... and I really enjoy it. So don't think you're doing me a favor by doing yourself, okay? That's half the fun." He holds JC a little closer and TRIES to feel like he's not just another guy to him ... but it's not easy right now.

"Okay," JC rasps again, agreeably if blandly. "Can we just go to sleep?" He's tired, sore, and tired, and just wants Justin to fall asleep so he can get up and fix a drink and wonder what the hell he's gotten himself into. Sinking further into self-doubt, he wonders why he listened to Justin tell him why he fell for him, when it just keeps becoming more obvious with every thing he says and does that it really *was* just for his dick and his mouth. He's just better at covering it up than Joey or some of the others.

"If that's what you want," says Justin, regretting that he ever said yes to the blowjob, no matter how horny he was. They should have just kissed and cuddled and then everything would be okay right now. He wraps his arms around JC and tangles their legs and rests his head in the crook of his neck, trying to feel as close as he can. He kisses his throat softly and feels another wave of regret."I really hope I didn't hurt you ... you really do sing like an angel, JC. You need to take care of that."

JC is torn between wanting to cry because Justin keeps piling it on and he doesn't *believe* him anymore, and wanting to snap something back at him about how he's not the first (or likely the last) guy to do that to him. But he doesn't have the energy or the will to do either, and so just whispers 'thank you' and wraps his arms around Justin in return.

Justin yawns as he holds him, realizing just how late it is, now. "G'night, hon," he says sleepily, almost forgetting to be awkward, sleeping with someone. Forgetting how much he DIDN'T want to sleep with someone, before. "I'll make us breakfast in the morning. Hope you don't mind cereal ... " His voice trails off as he yawns again and starts to fall asleep in JC's arms.

JC smirks to himself, figuring that even if Justin remembered he said he'd do that, JC'll just be having his typical breakfast of Advil. "Goodnight," he tells him idly. He shifts a little, making sure Justin isn't too wrapped around him so he won't be able to extricate himself once the other man's asleep.

Justin falls asleep quickly, breathing in the sweaty, alcohol-laced scent of JC as he does. He hopes idly, as he begins to lose consciousness, that JC will just fall asleep with him, and that everything will be okay when they wake up.

Waiting several minutes after Justin's breathing slows, making sure he's asleep, JC pulls himself out of bed and digs around on the floor for Justin's boxers. Which, after closer examination, he realizes are *his*, and wonders how that happened as he tugs them on over his hips. He creeps quietly toward the door, already practically drooling over the promise of a drink, when the moonlight glints off of a familiarly-shaped bottle lying on the floor.

JC kneels down and picks it up, turning to look back over his shoulder at Justin when he realizes it's a practically full bottle of vodka. His mind races slightly with *why* Justin would have it, and *why* it would be on the floor, before he stamps down his curiousity and slumps heavily back against the wall. He's not going to let himself CARE why Justin has it; he's just going to take advantage of the fact that he does.

It's several hours of watching Justin sleep later before JC crawls back in bed next to him, not remembering or bothering to hide the now more-than-half-empty bottle.

---

Justin wakes up with the same scent in his nostrils as when he fell asleep -- sweat and alcohol. Not exactly morning-fresh, but at least it's familiar. He moves over and, as expected, bumps into JC's body, wondering just when during the night they'd managed to get untangled and roll away from each other. He presses his face to JC's neck again and wraps an arm around his waist, relishing the sheer comfort of the act. It's a whole different world, waking up with someone else there, and not being alone anymore.

JC doesn't stir at all when Justin sidles up behind him, hot breath on his neck. He's not merely asleep, he's still essentially unconscious from the binge he stopped maybe only four hours earlier. The binge that was only prolonged by the seemingly content way that Justin slept without him in bed, the binge that convinced JC that he shouldn't curl up next to him when he finally climbed back under the sheets.

Justin grins against JC's neck, tickles his stomach and side a little. "Wake uuuppp," he whispers in a sing-song voice in JC's ear, sucking on the lobe a little bit, teasingly. When JC doesn't so much as stir he props himself up on his elbow and shakes him a little harder. A moment later, the bottle lying on the floor next to the bed catches his eye. He reaches overtop of JC and grabs his glasses off the night table to take a closer look First of all, it's not where he left it. Second of all, it had been a full bottle when he'd gone to sleep. It certainly isn't now.

He sighs heavily and unwraps himself from JC entirely, getting out of bed and going to pick the bottle up. There was enough gone to put even JC on his ass. He stares at it for a long moment, then gets back onto the bed. He sits cross-legged next to JC, the bottle in his lap, and just watches him sleep for a long, long time.

Ultimately it's the dehydration that causes JC to wake up, his mouth sticky and head groggy and eyes dry. He lifts his head off the pillow a couple inches, groans, and lets it flop back down. Then he rolls over and blinks squintily at Justin, sitting still at the foot of the bed. "Hey," he mumbles, his voice still very scratchy. "Got some water?"

"No," says Justin, still feeling the slightest bit guilty that he's not just taking care of him. "I guess you need some after all that vodka, huh." He just stares at him, trying not to show any emotion, trying not to show how hurt and frustrated he is right now.

"What?" JC asks before his eyes fall to the bottle in Justin's lap. "Oh." He looks back up at Justin's face through sleep-blurred eyes, trying to see if he's upset. "I ... found that, on the floor. Justin, what -- " He stops and tries to swallow, then changes what he was going to say, continuing much more meekly. "Could you please get me some water?"

Justin's weak; he nods his head and gets up off the bed and heads into the bathroom to get him a glass of water. He takes the vodka bottle with him. When he returns, he hands JC the water and goes back to his original position at the foot of the bed.

JC takes it gratefully and tries to drink it, wincing and sputtering a little when the swollen skin and muscles in his throat protest. "Fuck," he grates out, then rubs at his eyes sleepily and props himself up on the headboard. "Um ... thanks, Justin. How ... when did you wake up?" He tries to engage him in some sort of conversation to gage his mood.

Justin glances at the clock. "About three hours ago."

"You eat yet?" JC yawns, stretching his arms over his head, wondering if it would be pushing his luck to ask for some Advil too. "You coulda woke me up." "I tried," says Justin flatly. He holds up the bottle. "How come, JC? Why last night?"

JC can recognize that tone, and he sinks further into the pillows. "I don't know," he says, lower lip sticking out. "I just saw it, and ... I don't remember why else."

"Did I do something to make you need it, JC?" he asks sadly. "Was it me?" JC considers telling him that maybe it had, a little, but then realizes nothing is going to be gained from it. Especially since Justin's seemingly sad, and not mad. "Justin ... I've been drinking since, like, before I knew you. Nothing makes me *need* it. Or everything does; I'm not sure which."

Justin nods, KNOWING that, but still feeling like he wasn't good enough to make JC not need to drink last night. "You owe me a bottle of vodka."

"What?" JC laughs awkwardly, looking down at the bottle. "That's still, like, half full. I mean, if it's that important ..."

"Well, obviously I wasn't using it for drinking, then," mutter Justin, looking away and crossing his arms. "So I didn't do anything wrong, then?"

After looking at Justin strangely for a second, JC leans back and closes his eyes. "When? Last night? No," he says, clearing his throat again. "It was kind of a lot to handle, but, I mean ... nothing *bad*."

"A lot to handle? What do you mean by that?"

JC exhales noisily and makes like he's going to get off the bed. "Just ... a LOT, okay? Fighting off sex, then having sex, then *talking* about sex ... " "Oh," says Justin. He just doesn't know what to think about that, isn't sure if JC is telling him that the trouble isn't worth it. "You need anything, hon?"

"No," JC tells him, trying to keep his head as still as possible when he clambors off the bed. He wouldn't *mind* having Justin take care of him, like he did yesterday, but not if he was gonna give him grief about why he felt bad ... or worse yet, feel guilty about it. "I'm just gonna go get something for my head ..."

"Okay," says Justin, and just lets him, this time. He's too confused about what's going on, about where they're at right now. "Let me know if there's anything, then."

JC pauses with his hand on the doorknob, tugging awkwardly at his boxers. "Um ... did you even want me to come back, or were you just waiting for me to wake up ...?"

"I always want you to come back," says Justin softly. "But it's your choice."

"Okay," JC looks at him oddly again, then turns around and staggers a little to the bathroom to take more than the recommended dose of Advil, washed down with water he cupped in his hand from the tap. He scrubs his face with a washcloth then, and brushes his teeth, and then - as an afterthought - uses the towel to massage off the dried substances on his stomach. Justin toys with the bottle on his lap, and has to wonder if JC IS coming back, wonder if this whole thing is over before it really begins.

Tossing the towel on the floor with a scrunched-up nose, JC makes his way back to Justin's room, noticing that his own door is open and Joey is predictably nowhere to be found. "Hey," he says softly when he sees Justin looking dejected on the bed. "I brushed my teeth."

Justin looks up at him and suddenly smiles, widely and openly. "Hey."

"Hey," JC repeats, chuckling, grabbing the bottle casually from Justin and putting it down on the floor. "You can check me, if you like..." "I like," says Justin, reaching out for him. "I like very much."

JC lets Justin pull him down on the bed and into his lap before kissing him as sweetly as he knows how. "Mornin', baby boy," he says finally.

"Morning, JC," he says, still smiling. "Feeling better?"

"No," JC groans, rolling onto his back a little exaggeratedly, even though seeing Justin smile -- meaning he wasn't as likely to make him *talk* -- was definitely helping. "Bet you've got too much energy to nap with me, huh?"

"Can I hold you?" asks Justin seriously, "and you won't go anywhere?"

"Sure," JC says, really just wanting to close his eyes and let the medicine work its magic. He holds his arms up and open for Justin to crawl into if he wants. "Where would I go?"

"Where do you ALWAYS go?" asks Justin sadly, but he does lie down in the bed with him and hold him, hoping that this time he won't let go. "I like being your baby boy, you know. It makes me feel special to you." He watches JC's pain-lined face to see how he feels about that. "I've never wanted that before, you know."

"You're special to me anyway, Justin, even without all this," JC tells him, without opening his eyes. It's true: he wouldn't be as accomodating, or patient, or reassuring with Justin if he wasn't someone that he felt protective of in the first place. The hints, again, that Justin seems to think of himself as 'belonging' to JC make him slightly uncomfortable, but not enough to comment on.

Justin strokes his side lightly. "I know I can't fix you," he says after a long moment of silence. "It's just hard to convince myself to stop trying. I can't fix someone who doesn't want to be fixed, right?" He leans forward and kisses him softly. "If you ever want to, though, you know I'll be here." Right now, he's just thankful that JC wasn't puking again, that this time was just THAT much better than the last.

JC opens one eye to look at Justin, then buries his nose under his jaw. There it is, again: more evidence that everything Justin told him yesterday -- in this case, that he knew what he was getting into and accepted JC for who he was and wanted him anyway -- was a bunch of lies. And all the pain of what happened when he realized the same thing last night starts to make its way back into JC's head and heart. "I'm not *broken*," he says quietly. "You said this wasn't going to be about us trying to save each other."

"It's not," says Justin, still stroking him. "That's my point, JC. I'm just saying that I'm here anyway -- no matter what -- but if you ever want to, well, I'll support that, okay? I just kinda wanted you to know that." He'd do just about anything to stop the drinking, really, but he's probably just going to have to work harder to get himself to be more okay with it. Because he WILL live with it, will accept it, but that doesn't automatically make it easy. He kisses JC's face and throat tenderly.

JC can't help but let himself be swayed a little by Justin's warm lips, and his insecurity stops spreading, at least -- even if it doesn't disappear. He wiggles closer to Justin's body, tangling their legs together. "Taking care of me is gonna get old," he protests weakly, wondering for the millionth time what he's doing, and why he seems to *need* someone to do that, no matter how much he doesn't want it.

"I've been taking care of you for years," says Justin simply. "I'm not going to suddenly get sick of it now. And at least now I get a few perks for my trouble." He pulls his head back and smiles at him as he runs a toe along JC's calf and strokes his back gently with his fingers. "I hope you know that last bit was a joke."

JC smiles back at him to let him know he understood, then shivers a little from the goosebumps appearing on his skin where Justin's touching him. "It's not the same, though," he insists, then thinks better of following that line of argument and just drops it. "Anyway. I like it, when you do."

"It's exactly the same," says Justin. "My feelings for you haven't changed, JC. Just what I'm doing about them." His hand trails further down JC's back now, runs over his ass teasingly. "I know you're tired," he says before JC can say anything. "I'm just playing."

"I'm not *so* tired," JC whines, shifting his hips a little to keep Justin's hands where they are. "Just ... sluggish. I don't wanna get out of bed yet, is all." He tentatively lets the tip of his tongue sneak out from between his lips, licking lightly behind Justin's ear. "Justin? If your feelings haven't changed since ...whenever you started having them... why did you go to such an effort to hide them? I mean, if you say you've felt things for me for a while, I'll believe you, it's just ... you were always so stand-offish with me."

"Because I wasn't planning to be with someone," Justin reminds him softly. "Because of the complications, because every relationship around me is just really fucked up and I didn't think I wanted that. Wanted to keep my life simple. You aren't simple, JC ... but I'm thinking maybe the complications are worth what I get back for it." His hands roam JC's body, still just playing and not really intending to go any further than that. He's still fascinated by the presence of another body that he can touch and taste and explore.

"Oh, right," JC breathes, remembering the complications conversation back when *he* was trying to convince *Justin* to do this. But he can't help but wonder what it is that Justin thinks he's getting back from it -- other than the sex, all JC has done is push his way into his bed to sleep and be only marginally tolerant of Justin's reactions. "'Cause we're not really doing a great job avoiding that 'fucked up' label, y'know." He shivers again and lets his thigh drift higher between Justin's legs.

"No, we're not," says Justin, sighing a little. "I think maybe it was inevitable. Maybe I just didn't want to wait anymore. Maybe, inside, what I really wanted was to know what it was like to hold you and kiss you and have you say sweet things to me. And to wake up with someone, after all, even though I'm sure you steal the covers and hog the bed and will touch me all the times in the ways I THOUGHT I didn't want to be touched only I do, if it's you." He grins, twines his leg with JC's. "Don't doubt that I want this, okay?"

"Okay," JC tells him, nuzzling his cheek, forcing himself not to ask for the millionth time what 'this' is. Their tentative definition from the night before -- sex, and sleeping together, and something about cuddling, and JC cooking dinner -- was something JC could go along with; it's what Justin really wants *beyond* that that's a source of concern for JC. But he won't ask about it, not when he really should be letting Justin hold him and kiss him, and saying sweet things to him. "I *do* steal covers, you know, but as long as you keep me in your arms when we sleep that won't be a problem..."

"As long as you don't wiggle your way out again," says Justin, holding him tighter. "Please don't, okay? We'll skip breakfast and I'll make lunch later. Promise." He squeezes lightly at JC's ass with his hand, but doesn't clutch it, and leans forward again to capture his lips. The less they talk, it seems, the better this works. And talking while JC is hung over or drunk just isn't turning out to be a good idea at all. Which doesn't, Justin realizes, leave much time to talk at all.

"I won't; you're warm," mumbles JC when Justin pulls his mouth away, curling his arms up against Justin's chest. "When'd you get so big, baby boy?" he yawns, noticing again how *comforting* it is to have Justin worried about *him* leaving, rather than the other way around.

"When you weren't looking," says Justin softly. He cups his hand under the top of JC's thigh and pulls their groins closer together. "You were never looking, JC." He scrunches his nose up as he kisses him again. "My hands are tied up," he says. "Take my glasses off for me? They're getting in the way."

JC bites his lip as he struggles to get his arms out from between them, and then gently lifts the frames out from behind Justin's ears and stretches to place them on the bedside table behind him. "I *saw*," he tells Justin, "you just never let me or any of us *feel*. No hugs, or anything." His pulse quickens a little as his hipbone brushes against Justin's.

"I let you hug, sometimes," protests Justin, though he knows it's more true than he'll admit. He's had a problem with touching for a long time, ever since his body had become public property. "I'm letting you now." His hands begin roaming again, feeling the warm, now-flushed skin. "I didn't know you saw," he admits. "I thought I was pretty much, you know, unseen. I didn't quite grow up the way people hoped I would, after all."

Justin's words remind JC that he *is* allowed to touch Justin now, and so he uses his now-free hands to rub gently at the back of his neck and between his shoulderblades as he tries to decipher Justin's last comment. "And how is that?" he asks softly, wondering what in the world Justin could find to be critical of, with respect to the way he looks. He kisses Justin's nose gently and looks at him with wide eyes, wanting to say complimentary things, but scared to do so if that wasn't what he meant.

"Just ... you know. At fifteen I think I hit my peak in terms of sexiness." Justin shrugs, just a little -- JC's hands feel really good on his body, and he doesn't want them to go away. "Then I kinda grew up into *this*. Not that there's anything wrong with it, or anything, but ... you know." He closes his eyes and leans in a little closer, using his imagination and his hands to 'see' where JC is, what he's doing and the expression on his face.

"No ..." JC draws his reply out, frowning now that Justin can't see him, and runs his fingers up the nape of Justin's neck into his curls. "I *don't* know. You think you were better-looking then than you are now? I can tell you that not one of the rest of us would agree with that That Justin was cute. THIS Justin," JC arches his back a little and pushes his swelling cock into Justin's thigh, "makes us all want to come in our pants, sometimes."

"I *what*?" says Justin softly, sounding a little surprised, his eyes flying open again and struggling to focus on JC's face. It's not a surprise now that JC wants him, but he'd thought that -- really -- that had more to do with knowing him and being a little attracted to THAT, as well as the fact that he was a virgin, which despite what JC says must have been at least a LITTLE bit of a thrill for him. He strokes the back of JC's thigh lightly as he processes that. He wonders if Joey and Lance had wanted to see him for those same reasons -- not just that he was 'new', but that he was attractive, too.

"You heard me," JC says, his voice deepening as he tugs a little on Justin's hair. "Watching you walk, watching you sleep, watching you move ... you make at least one of us hard every day without doing *anything* except looking like you do. I didn't ... say anything, earlier, because I didn't want you to think that's why I'm here. I *don't* want you to think that. But if you don't know how beautiful you are ..." JC trails off, and kisses him, not shy about using his tongue.

"I didn't know," whisper Justin. "I DON'T know. But ... thank you for telling me." His hand slides up to JC's ass again, lightly traces up and down the crack a little. "I was attractive to myself, at least," he admits. "That's all that mattered before. I had no idea that you guys ... I guess I didn't pay much attention. I just assumed ... " His voice trails off again as he has no idea what to say to that.

JC shudders as he feels Justin's hand caressing him so intimately. "You're a fucking ANGEL," he blurts out. "You are." He presses back against Justin's fingers, desperately aware that the younger man hasn't touched him there, at ALL, yet. "No wonder you didn't want any of us."

Justin laughs. "I am NOT an angel," he says. "And I DID want one of you, remember? I just ... wasn't ready to do anything about it." He presses his lips to JC's shoulder, then, and slides his index finger between JC's cheeks, lightly tracing the rim of his hole. He hopes he's reading JC's body language right, and is doing something the other man will appreciate.

"Fuck," JC hisses, shivering again, his cock twitching in an automatic response. "Justin?" he ventures, when he's caught his breath. "Would you maybe want to ... " he trails off blushing, knowing that Justin hasn't been given the opportunity to explore his body at all beyond a quick blowjob. But then he realizes Justin hasn't *taken* the opportunity, either, and so maybe is content with letting JC touch *him,* and has no interest in seeing what he can do just by touching another man. "Nevermind," he mumbles.

"Nevermind?" repeats Justin in confusion. He pulls his hand away and just rests it on JC's ass cheek. "Do you not want me doing that? Shit .. I'm sorry. I just thought ... " He goes back to stroking JC's back and thighs again, in long, smooth strokes. His lips nibble at JC's neck and shoulder as he touches him. They're close together, but Justin still has trouble making out the slight changes in JC's expression, and doesn't notice the colour that's come to his cheeks.

"No, no, please, I LIKE it," JC insists, wanting it too much to feel embarassed about asking for THAT. "I just thought I'd ask you if you wanted to ... do this other thing, but ... I realized you probably wouldn't want to, so ... that was the nevermind." He sighs and feels his body start to *hum* under Justin's palms, and buries his flushed face into Justin's throat.

Justin frowns in confusion. "I don't understand," he says bringing his hand back to JC's ass again but hovering slightly away from his hole. "I've enjoyed everything you've shown me, JC ... why wouldn't you just ASK me if you wanted me to try something new. I mean ... except for fucking you, and I'm just not ready for that today, is there ANYthing I've been unwilling to try, yet?"

"No," JC admits, his voice muffled against Justin's neck, frowning himself when even telling Justin that he likes being touched there, and saying *please*, wasn't enough to get him to do it more. "And it's not so much trying something new, as much as it is a way we could ... I mean, aren't you even the least bit *interested* in touching my body?"

"What?" says Justin, jerking his head back. "JC ... what do you think I've BEEN doing. God, I think I've touched almost every bit of it a half-dozen times and I'm still learning all about it." He grins at him and kisses his chin. "How could you POSSIBLY think I'm not interested." He fingers slip further between JC's cheeks again, tracing the rim of his hole then pushing just the very tip of his index finger inside.

"Tie me up," JC moans abruptly when he feels Justin slip his fingertip inside. His eyes widen when he realizes that he actually *said* what he was thinking out loud, but then just decides he might as well go with it. "I want you to. I want you to take your time and touch me and taste me and do whatEVER you want to me and I'll never have the patience to let you unless you tie me up." He offers a weak smile. "Please."

Justin freezes and his breath hitches. "Oh God," he breathes after a moment. "Really? You'll let me do that?" Suddenly he smiles, his eyes bright. "Wow. Yes. Okay. Um ... with what?" His eyes roam the room completely ineffectually, so he returns his focus to JC's body, licking his collarbone and poking the tip of his finger inside again. "You need to find something."

Moaning again with the intrusion, and a little with relief that at the very least he didn't scare Justin off, JC tries to buck a little against Justin's hand. "YOU go find something," he disagrees. "Something strong. Sometimes I don't like being ... restrained." Knowing that's exactly what's about to happen to him, though, is turning JC on almost as much as Justin's finger.

Justin pulls his hand away, sits up and squints. "Um ... I'm not sure what would work," he confesses, hoping that JC won't change his mind just because Justin isn't an expert at this. That he isn't moving fast enough. "Help?"

JC sits up too, and smiles almost shyly at Justin. "This sounds REALLY cheesy, but we could use a couple of your bandannas? Or, I mean, if you have an old tee shirt, we can rip that into strips ..." JC blushes furiously when he realizes how eager he sounds.

Justin chuckles a bit, tries not to stumble as he makes his way blindly to the dresser. "I have bandannas a-plenty," he assures him. "I'm glad ONE of us knows what he's doing."

A frown appears on JC's face, but it quickly passes as he occupies himself staring at Justin's back while he paws through one of his drawers. "I don't -- it's not like that," he stutters. "This doesn't happen *that* often ..."

"I didn't think it did," Justin assures him, groping in the drawer for something to use. He holds up a couple of his bandannas, just plain ones with nothing to poke or scratch. "Will these do?" he asks, wondering absurdly how badly they clash with one another.

Giving them only the most cursory glance, JC nods and grins at Justin. He leans back on his hands, legs stretched out in front of him, his erection resting against his belly. "I really want you to do this, Justin," he says simply and a little fondly. "And I really want to," says Justin, basking in just how much JC must TRUST him, let alone what he's about to get to do with him. He crawls back onto the bed carefully, on his hands and knees, and over to JC. "So how do we do this?" he asks, grinning.

"You might could kiss me first," JC admonishes him, licking his lips and rubbing the inside of Justin's thigh with his knee.

Justin leans forward and kisses him, hungrily. "I'm really liking this already," he says against JC's lips. "You taste good." Even WITH the hint of vodka in his mouth, he DOES taste good, and Justin wants more.

"Arm and Hammer baking soda toothpaste," JC explains idly, letting his head roll back and exposing his throat to Justin, collapsing down onto his elbows.

Justin kisses his lips again, then his chin, then kisses a trail down his throat, planting a hand on either side of his body. "Is this what you had in mind?" he whispers.

JC nods, eyes closing, fighting the urge to buck up against Justin. What he had in mind, really, was paying attention to what Justin liked to do, what parts of his body he chose to concentrate on, when he was completely in control. "C'mon," he urges him softly, hoping with everything he is that Justin is into this enough to take the initiative. Justin slides his hands up JC's arms, grasps his wrists firmly, his body almost flat against JC's. "Tell me you're sure," he says in a low voice. Almost a growl. "Tell me you're sure and I'll do this right now."

JC's lips part a little in surprise, and then curl into another grin as he tests Justin's grip on his wrists. "Pretty fucking sure," he replies shortly, his voice still raspy from the night before.

Justin nods, then ties one of JC's wrists the the headboard of the bed, quickly. "Test that," he says, sucking on JC's neck again for a moment. "Test it and then I'll do the other." He can feel JC's erection against him, hard and twitching, and knows he's doing something he likes. Yanking on the fabric wrapped around his wrist only tightens the knot and causes the headboard to creak a little, and JC grins in approval. "I'm not getting out of that until you feel like letting me out," he assures Justin, inhaling sharply when the other man starts sucking less gently on his throat. Justin quickly ties the other wrist. "Just tell me if you want out, okay?" he says. He doesn't wait for another answer before he attacks JC's throat again, suckling behind his ear and trailing his lips down to his collarbone. His hands still grasp JC's wrists for a moment before running back down the insides of his arms and down his sides.

"I won't!" JC gasps out, squirming at the tickling touch along his ribs, trying to settle into a comfortable position against the pillows. His eyes close tightly shut again as goosebumps form all over his body, from Justin's hands and the wet trail left by his lips and tongue.

Justin suddenly moves down the bed and grasps JC's hips, not particularly gently. He mouthes the skin of JC's stomach and spends a long, long moment swirling his tongue in JC's navel. JC's erection is now pressed against his chest, just beneath his throat and he flexes his pecs a bit, wondering what it will do to him. JC flushes when Justin's hands grab his hips -- the one part of his body he had maintained some level of control over, and Justin seemed to recognize it immediately. He has an absurdedly prideful feeling about that, but it vanishes when he feels Justin's muscles shift against the base of his cock, almost smothering it between their bodies. "Shit," he breathes. Justin lifts his head for a moment, smiles sweetly, then licks a trail from JC's navel back up to his chest and sucks one nipple into his mouth. He bites at it lighly, then sucks hard for a moment before letting go entirely and lapping at it with his tongue.

JC pulls down on his restraints, arching his back to try and press his nipple back into Justin's mouth, missing the warm heat already. Both nipples are taut, and goosebumps are literally covering all of JC's torso. "You like that, huh," murmurs Justin, giving the other nipple the same treatment before lifting his head again and moving to kiss JC's parted lips.

"Mmm, yeah..." JC mumbles against Justin's mouth before kissing him as deeply as he can, trying to convey all the sexual frustration he has pent up inside as a result of all this. Justin reaches up to hold JC's wrists again. "You ARE impatient," he says, grinning at him. "What if I want to explore some more?" Again, he doesn't wait for an answer before moving down JC's body. He focuses on his legs this time, nibbling at his inner thighs and spreading JC's legs for better access. He licks the backs of his knees and grabs his feet at the same time, pressing his thumbs firmly into the arches.

"I thought it was obvious that you get to do whatever you want," JC tells him, lifting his head to watch Justin's mouth on his legs. Justin's taken to this better than he had even hoped, not leaving JC much doubt about who was deciding what would happen, and how quickly, and to whom. His shoulders relax when Justin makes him spread his legs, but as soon as Justin's tongue touches the sensitive skin behind his knee, he pushes his feet against the other man's hands and his body tenses again.

Justin looks up, sliding his hands to grasp JC's ankles instead of his feet. "Something wrong?" he asks, daring to break the mood for just a moment to make sure it's still all good. He trails his tongue back up the inside of JC's thigh as he waits for an answer, hoping he's just ticklish or something.

"No, yeah..." JC groans. "That's just ... a good spot." His muscles had tightened because he was straining to keep from bucking up into the air between their bodies -- it was just too early for that, and he should have more self-control than to respond that desperately to Justin's mouth on his *knee* of all things.

"Good," says Justin, moving down again. Right down to the foot of the bed where he kneels and lifts JC's leg, takes his ankle into his mouth, sucking at it gently, tasting his skin, tracing it with his tongue. Every part of JC's body is just amazing to him, from one end to the other. His hand cups the back of JC's knee as his lips begin to trail up the side of his calf. "Damn, Justin," JC exhales, shifting his hips on the bed, painfully aware that he is unable to do anything to get any kind of friction or pressure on his needy erection. He keeps telling himself this *is* what he wanted, when he suggested it ... and he *does* feel attractive, and desireable, in a way that he can't ever remember feeling ... because this isn't what anyone else has done to him when he's been tied up. Teased, yes; *explored* ... no.

Justin continues up JC's leg, lifting it onto his shoulder as he moves further up the bed. After a brief, almost imperceptible moment of hesitation he flicks his tongue out and begins lapping at JC's balls before opening wider and mouthing one of them, covering it in saliva and teasing it with his lips and tongue. Then, with no hesitation this time, he moves onto the other.

JC has to bite his lip to mute the whimper that rises from his throat when he first feels Justin licking all over that soft skin: partly because of the physical sensation, but maybe more because it just reminds him that wherever this goes, despite his position, Justin had already reminded him that it won't end with his dick in JC's ass. Which JC wants more than anything.

Justin lets the heavy ball slip from his mouth and skips over JC's dick and stomach to concentrate on his chest again for a while, leaning against JC's body and tracing his muscles with gentle, curious fingertips. He nibbles at one of his nipples, then turns his head to the side and rests his cheek between JC's pecs. He reaches up and trails his fingers down JC's arm, from the crook of his elbow right to his shoulder. He's still fascinated by the feel and the taste of it. And that he can do anything he wants to with JC's body right now.

JC sighs in relief when Justin leans down to rest his weight on his body -- even if he isn't moving, or rubbing, just having the pressure on his groin was long overdue. He smiles when Justin rests his head on his chest, and lifts his chin to bury his nose in Justin's curls. Inhaling deeply, he smiles again, trying to use the respite to slow his heartbeat -- to calm down a bit before Justin starts with whatever's next. He desperately wants to ask if this is what *Justin* expected, but doesn't want to disturb the zone he seems to be in.

Justin moves again, up off JC's body, and kneels on the bed next to his shoulder. He reaches up to the headboard to lace his fingers with JC's and leans forward to lick and suck at the exposed part of his wrist, then slowly down his forarm to the inside of his elbow. With his other hand he pinches at JC's opposite nipple, teasing it to hardness yet again. "You're lovely," he says under his breath as he moves down JC's arm.

"No, you," JC mumbles, flexing his bicep and clenching his fingers around the bandanna as Justin's soft lips wreak torturous, ticklish havoc on the inside of his arms. "That's how you got me here, in the first place." He shivers, from the whisper-soft kisses at his elbow, the plucking of his tight nipple, and the cold air on his groin that replaced with warmth of Justin's body when he moved away.

Justin buries his face in JC's neck, then licks and sucks at his earlobe for a moment. "And you taste good," he adds, whispering the words in JC's ear. He lifts his head, then, and squints at the bedside table, then leans over JC's body toward it and grabs something, stashing it near the foot of the bed as he moves down there again himself. His movements aren't exactly graceful, but they're comfortably awkward in that fumbling, exciting, first-exploration kind of way.

JC struggles a little to see what Justin got, then gives up and leans his head back again, shimmying up on the bed so he can rest his arms a little, planting his feet and bending his knees so his legs won't be in Justin's way. He just keeps taking deep breaths, determined not to come close to orgasm until Justin wants him to, determined to stretch this out as long as will make Justin happy. His cheeks are pink, and a slight sheen of sweat covers his belly.

Justin pauses and just smiles at JC for a moment, then settles himself in between JC's legs and lifts them a bit again, spreading them wider. As much as everything he's been doing is new and breathtaking, this is even newer to him -- on another person at least. He smears some of the lubricant he'd grabbed on one finger and slips it between JC's cheeks, spreading it quickly around then rim of his hole then poking just the tip of his finger inside again. WIth his other hand he cups JC's balls and rolls them gently in his hand.

"Oh!" JC cries out, jerking automatically on the ties around his wrists -- his hands wanting to touch something, *anything* on Justin when he feels his finger slip inside. He lifts his head again, blinking rapidly at Justin, and bites his lip as he starts to tilt his hips closer to the other man in what he hopes is an encouraging angle. This is as far as Justin got before, and JC is practically drooling with anticipation over what the addition of the lubricant promises.

Justin leans over, kisses the inside of JC's thigh wetly, and slides his finger all the way inside. He has to think a little bit, to figure out just which way he needs to move to thrust just right, when he's inside another person. Turn this way ... curl just this much ... and thrust. He lifts his head, hoping to see JC react.

The headboard creaks alarmingly when JC grips it and yanks hard, sounding like he's almost crying out painfully when Justin's finger just *rakes* across his prostate. It's not pain, just surprise and extreme pleasure, and he chokes back a sob as well. Moisture starts weeping from his cock onto his stomach, the muscles in his ass flex and then relax -- all the reactions his body has trained itself for.

Justin grins, knowing that reaction and thrilled that he can bring it out in someone else. So far he's just been single-minded about pleasuring JC's body, but he starts to become acutely aware of his OWN aching erection, the tingles that are going through HIS body. He takes a deep breath, then lubricates another finger and slides it in carefully alongside the first. He grazes JC's prostate with another couple thrusts, and marvels at how easily he's stretching to accomodate him. JC is clearly as used to this as he is.

JC's legs fall open even wider as Justin adds a second finger, relishing the sensation of being stretched at his opening, practically drowning in the pleasure of having Justin so *skillfully* stimulate his prostate. He reminds himself that Justin must be intimately familiar and experienced at what he's doing, and although JC is no stranger to being finger-fucked, he wonders if this might be a case where he's not doing the teaching. "Please," he hears himself say, all of his energy devoted to trying not to buck against Justin's hand.

Justin runs his fingers lightly up the back of JC's thigh as he thrusts the fingers of his other hand into JC's ass, hitting his prostate with every third stroke, then every second stroke as he speeds up a fraction. JC is loosening up quickly, easily, so -- after a moment of considering where he continued his stroking but ceased his thrusting -- he lubricates a third finger and very carefully, very slowly, slides it in with the others. He doesn't thrust them this time, just lets them sit there, lets JC get used to the full feeling. He watches JC's cock twitch eagerly and just smiles at it. This is working just the way he'd hoped it would, and he bets JC feels amazing right now, if his OWN reactions to the same thing are typical ones.

"Ahh..." JC hisses as he takes in Justin's third finger, just swallows it up, his ass more than ready for the added girth. He tugs on his restraints again, contemplating begging Justin to take them off, fantasizing about him doing so and then JC pouncing on him, impaling himself on Justin's cock, because he *knows* Justin wouldn't complain or protest or demur once he felt *that*. "Deeper, *harder*," he tells Justin, wanting him to resume his movement, knowing once he does and he feels the base of Justin's knuckles ramming against his ass he won't be able to help thrusting back down on them. Not when three fingers are approaching the feeling of having a dick in there.

Justin pauses, licks his lips, and pulls his fingers right out. For a moment he just rests his hands on JC's widely-spread knees and stares at him. Again, he can't make out any details, but he picks up on the flush that covers JC's body and the glinting layer of sweat that's making his skin warm and slick. JC's chest is heaving, his back arched, his cock hard and already leaking fluid onto his stomach. With sudden, overwhelming certainty he crawls back up the bed, on his hands and knees, overtop of JC's body, until his head is hovering so very close to JC's. He leans down for a quick sloppy kiss, then meets JC's eyes and whispers, "I'm ready now."

"Damn ... fuck ..." JC mutters when Justin removes his fingers without thrusting them *once* -- the TEASE -- and then frowns even deeper when Justin pulls away. Until he feels his lips on his own, and the words that spill out of his mouth. "It's okay," he says impatiently, shutting his eyes and squirming up against Justin's body, thinking that Justin's talking about using that many fingers at once, or that he's ready to make him come or something, and just wants to clear it with JC first. "It's fine, you can -- just *please* -- I need you back inside me..."

Justin looks absolutely stricken for a moment, like he's about to cry, then braces himself and just nods, suddenly not in control anymore. "I meant -- " he begins, then just looks away. "Sure," he says softly, and moves back down to where he was. He's quick to thrust his fingers back into JC, to twist them in ways he knows will drive him crazy. He knows he can get him off this way, probably without even touching his dick, and he guesses that's what he's going to do. The whole thrill of the exploration is just gone now.

"Wait, what ..." JC starts, catching Justin's expression, then cries out when Justin penetrates him again, abruptly. The pleasure is exquisite, and constant, and overwhelming ,and he whimpers with every haphazard motion of Justin's fingers. "Oh, please," he cries again, needing to feel as full as he can, wanting everything Justin can offer him, wishing for the millionth time that Justin'd actually *want* to stick his dick in JC's eager ass ... but content to settle for a hard ride on his hand. "Fuck me HARDER, Justin."

Justin pulls his hand out again, stares at JC, and decides he's going to finish what he started, after all. JC'd made it ABUNDANTLY clear he'd be okay with it, and there might never be another opportunity quite like this one, where Justin was as in control as he possibly could be. He crawls quickly over JC's body, grabs the condoms from the bedside table and slides one expertly onto his cock. He hasn't worn them very many times before, but he's put them on so many things that this is no challenge at all.

Slathering lubricant on messily, he lifts JC's legs, before JC can really grasp what's going on, and poises himself at JC's hole. With only a brief moment of hesitation, where his pulse races and his breath catches, he slides himself all the way inside. He pauses there, rests his body against JC's, and breathes.

"What the ... sweet CHRIST!" JC screams when Justin enters him, every one of his own muscles rigid. He can't believe this, can't believe Justin's actually DOING it when he insisted he couldn't or wouldn't. And he's huge, and hot, and filling JC like nothing and nobody ever has ... and he can't believe he *can't* *move*. He curses his stupid brain and libido and whatever else made him think being tied up at Justin's mercy was a good idea.

Justin stretches up to kiss him, careful not to put TOO much pressure on JC's legs, and makes sure all is well. He's never done this before and isn't going to let himself think about it and maybe back out, because he's SURE, like he hasn't been about anything in this relationship before, that this is the moment he's been waiting for. His hands grasp JC's hips as JC's legs wrap around him, and he begins to thrust into him. He isn't as used to controlling his dick as he is controlling his hands, but from the expressions and noises that JC is making, he's pretty sure he's hitting his prostate dead on with each thrust.

And God, it's so hot and tight and amazing and like NOTHING he's felt or imagined. He's not going to last long, this first time, and he hopes he got JC close enough before entering him that it'll be a fun ride to orgasm for both of them.

JC whimpers into Justin's mouth, into his hair, into his neck, with every pump of his hips. With his arms tied up, he has to wrap his legs around Justin to get ANY kind of leverage to thrust back against him. He does, once: but Justin sinks so deeply into him that JC feels like he's going to be ripped apart if he does it again, so he just tries to relax his arms and arch his back and let Justin fuck him better than he ever remembers being fucked. He idly realizes that his dick is being stimulated too, rubbed between their sweaty bellies, but he's so focused on the sensations inside him that he couldn't care less.

Justin tries to do all the things to JC that he wished he could have done to himself while he was still fucking solo. He runs his hands through JC's hair, touches his face, his chest, his sides. He pinches at his nipples until they're peaked again and even takes one into his mouth, sucking at it desperately. His thrusts become more erratic and beads of sweat appear on his forehead as he struggles to keep from coming. It could happen any time now, but thankfully he has a bit of practice at this, at prolonging it. But never with this kind of incredible sensation on his cock.

JC starts crying: with pleasure; with the strain of trying to forestall his orgasm; with frustration that he can't touch Justin back -- to grab his hips, or his ass, or bury his hands in his hair or wrap his arms around the lean body that's pushing him over the edge despite all his efforts. "Oh ... oh, god ... " he pants between Justin's thrusts -- dropping one foot from around Justin's waist to push up from the bed, arching his back one last time before exploding in a wave of shouts and tears and spasms and cum.

When JC's body clenches with his orgasm, Justin almost yells. It's like NOTHING he could have expected, the sudden tightness, the feel of JC's cum spurting in between them, the sounds coming from JC's mouth. He comes hard, feeling it in his groin, all the way up his back and especially in his brain. Suddenly nothing else exists but that blast of pleasure. He gasps for air and thrusts in as far as he can, pulling away from JC's body a little, and rides the sensation out. A moment later he practically collapses on top of him.

He reaches up with the last of his strength to untie JC's hands but he can't reach without pulling out of him. Deciding that he needs to be held right now more than he needs to remain inside JC, he pulls out, strips the condom off, into the trash, and quickly unties both of JC's hands before collapsing on top of him again.

JC is completely unable to keep from sobbing when Justin removes the bandannas, lowering his arms shakily, covering his face with one of his hands. He doesn't remember the last time he cried, and has no rational explanation for it now. He's sure most of it is just the release, exaggerated because he had been tied up, but ... there's something else. Something about Justin just taking him, without preparation, without permission, without *practice* -- but with a passion that JC'd never seen anyone have for *him*.

Justin wraps his arms around JC and holds him close, shaking suddenly. He pulls JC's hand away from his face, places it on his own back, and presses JC's face to his neck. He doesn't say anything -- CAN'T say anything -- and isn't surprised to feel a few tears trailing down his own cheeks. He's come to accept that it's his body's natural reaction to too much emotion, and just lets it happen this time without shame. "Hey," he says softly after a long, long moment of just holding him.

"Hey," JC sniffles against his neck, clasping his arms around Justin's waist and rubbing his wrists tenderly. He takes a few shuddery breaths and then picks his head up, watery eyes flickering over Justin's teary face, before squeezing them shut and choking back another sob. He's still not used to seeing Justin cry after they do something like this, and despite his *own* emotional outburst, he's practically crushed that Justin doesn't seem any happier.

"That was the most amazing thing I've ever done in my whole life," whispers Justin fiercely. In his head, stacking it up against everything he's done in his career -- even the incredible high of performing in front of thousands of fans -- there's just no comparison. It's the truth -- this has been the most mind-blowing, eye-opening experience of his life. And right now, he can only hope it was the same for JC. His voice softens a little. "How are YOU doing, hon?"

"My wrists hurt a little," JC says weakly, a little randomly, *certainly* not answering the question as it was intended -- too preoccupied with trying to figure out if Justin meant what he said, or if he's just trying to make him feel better because he's crying like a fucking girl. He shivers almost violently as his sweat begins to cool on his body, and pulls his arms back and squeezes them between their chests. Otherwise, physically, he's fine ... *emotionally* ... he's vulnerable, and falling hard, and therefore wants a drink more than anything.

Justin pulls back a little and tries to look him in the eye. "Did I do ANYthing for you?" he asks softly, his shoulders slumping. Then he has to look away. Maybe the noises JC has been making hadn't been good ones, after all. Maybe he'd just totally read him wrong. Maybe he'd been the only one to really get off on it. Maybe JC hadn't even WANTED him to do it, which would make it -- Oh God -- practically RAPE, though JC never said no ... *He never said no,* Justin reminds himself firmly before his thoughts can go down that road. *Even if he didn't enjoy himself, he never said no.*

JC barks out a laugh before his face crumples into tears again. "It was just ... AMAZING, Justin," he insists between watery hiccups. "The best sex -- the BEST -- I have ever, EVER had. You've, like ... spoiled me for anything or anyone else. And the worst part is that ... *I* couldn't even do anything for *you*. I just didn't know..." He rubs clumsily at his eyes and tries to calm down, staring at the wall over Justin's shoulder.

"Oh, thank God!" breathes Justin, clutching JC to his body again. "You did EVERYTHING for me, don't you get that? You let me do what I needed to do, to be ready. I've touched and tasted all of you. And I loved every SECOND of it. God, it was wonderful, it was amazing, it was EVERYthing. I don't even know what else to fucking SAY about it." He kisses JC's shoulder as he buries his face in his neck again, tears still flowing a little.

JC stares down with amazement at the hyper, gushy, armful of Justin that appeared out of nowhere. Enthusiasm like *that* wasn't faked, he knew, which was a relief -- but he still wasn't sure *why* Justin decided to do it without telling him, or ... why he still seemed upset and unsure afterwards. "But ... but you're crying, again." JC points out with wide eyes.

Justin laughs, almost more as a release of energy than anything. "I'd think you would have guessed by now that's a GOOD sign," he says, still clutching him tightly. "Besides ... so are you. Does that mean something bad?" He looks at him seriously; it's not entirely a rhetorial question, even though JC has already assured him it was great, wonderful sex. And he believes that. "Thank you for trusting me," he whispers in JC's ear.

It was never a question for JC, really ... he's not sure if it's the way Justin claims to feel about him, or how he had taken care of him yesterday, or how HE had trusted *JC* to do the same thing the night before ... "Of course," he whispers back against Justin's cheek. "And I don't *know* why I'm crying. I never cry."

"There's nothing wrong with crying," says Justin, instinctively rocking him a little bit, finally REALLY coming back to earth. "So ... I really did okay?"

JC knows this is another case of Justin being insecure about his first time, so JC bites back the teasing comment he was going to make and kisses him instead. "Rocked my fucking world. I'm gonna have to retire."

Justin breathes another sigh of relief. "I wasn't thinking," he says. "I just ... it just happened. It felt like time."

"Next time you could give me a little warning," JC teases, poking Justin in the side. He IS joking, but he's still unsure and insecure about why Justin decided to do it then, to do it when JC was restrained. "But you were so sure ...?"

""Warning?" says Justin, looking at him a little strangely. "What did you THINK I meant what I said I was ready? You said okay, JC. You said go ahead ... didn't you?" JC returns the confused glance. "Well, no ... I mean, it's FINE, god, but ... I thought you just meant you were ready to be doing what you were doing. Um. With your hand?" JC tries to remember what exactly Justin had said, how he reacted, what he might have misinterpreted.

Justin looks away for a moment. "Should I have?" he asks softly. "Did I do something bad?" He winces, thinking he sounds like a five-year-old, but it's how he feels. He'd thought JC would be excited when he told him he was ready. Enthusiastic. Instead, he hadn't even noticed.

"Should you have what?" JC asks, his brow furrowed, still very confused. "Justin, should you have ... oh, god," JC trails off, staring at his profile for a minute and then grabbing his chin. "*IS* that what you meant, when you said you were ready? Shit."

"Yeah," says Justin quietly, and tries to shrug it off. "It's okay." "Justin!" JC doesn't let go of his face, and tries to force back the feelings of guilt that are threatening, as usual, whenever he fucks up with Justin. "Didn't you tell me that you didn't want to do that yet? I had to keep repeating it to myself the whole time you had me tied up, that I couldn't get too into it because you weren't. I'm sorry I didn't understand you right away, but you should have made SURE I knew what you were saying. I would have talked to you about it, helped you through it. Made you untie me so I could touch you. I can't ... I don't even know HOW I responded." "I'm fucking SORRY, okay?" says Justin, letting go of JC and rolling over, away from him. "Fuck. Don't worry, I won't do it again, okay? Just ... I'm sorry." Tears start welling up in JC's eyes again. "I'm not mad," he says softly. "I just wish I could have been there for you, better than I was. I'm blaming myself." He bites his lip and stares at Justin's back. "Why did you still do it, when I was being so obviously callous about it?"

"I thought it was the right time," says Justin, trying to hide his sniffles. "I guess I was wrong."

JC takes a deep breath and scoots over to spoon behind Justin's back. "Okay. Why are we being like this? Look, we just had amazing sex, when YOU wanted to do it, and when I wanted to do it, and it was fucking AMAZING. And now ... what, we're fighting over this really small miscommunication, that really didn't affect the outcome much? I was just trying to tell you I would have been more sensitive, if I had known. PLEASE, Justin." "You're making me feel like I did something wrong, JC," says Justin softly. Honestly. "That's not how I wanted my first time to be." He laces his fingers with JCs, though, and holds him there.

"How. HOW am I making you feel that way?" JC asks shakily, the wetness from his cheeks smearing all over Justin's neck.

"You said I should have made sure you knew what I was saying. It ... it makes me feel like I took you against your will, or something."

"I meant for *you*, you should have made sure," JC whispers forcefully. "Did I ever say no. Did I ever do anything that made you think I would't want it, wasn't enjoying it, didn't NEED it." They're not questions, really, because JC knew he didn't. "Stop telling me what I should have done!" says Justin, covering his ears with an audible slap.

JC pulls back and stares at Justin's neck in shock, amazed at how childish and just ... YOUNG ... he seems. "Okay," he says simply, his tears drying up almost automatically, his feelings of vulnerability quickly being replaced by more familiar detachment. Justin lets his hands slide down again and curls up a little, wishing he was still a virgin, wishing he hadn't made more of the moment than it really was. But it had seemed so damn PERFECT, while they weren doing it. So very perfect.

Watching Justin retreat into himself, JC wastes no time sitting up on the bed and glancing around the floor for his underwear. "Right, thanks, then. I just remembered I had plans for lunch, so why don't we forget about that, too?"

Justin starts sobbing, then, as his heart just shatters. "I'm sorry," he whispers again, knowing the whole fucking thing is his fault, and he never should have pursued it in the first place.

"Me too," JC tells him, just loud enough to be heard, wiping a hand across his eyes as he stands up. "I really tried, today, Justin. For the first time since I can remember. I made an EFFORT for something. And you just ... fuck." He stops talking, knowing Justin isn't listening. Justin rolls over again suddenly, looks at JC fiercely. "I. Made love. To you," he says, practically hissing the words. "I made LOVE to you and it was the most amazing fucking thing ever ... and you're pointing out my fucking MISTAKES? What the fuck is WRONG with you? Why the fuck can't you just STAY and HOLD me and tell me you thought it was wonderful too, huh?"

JC flinches visibly, recoiling from Justin's words and tone and accusations and use of the term 'making love' and ALL of it. He starts speaking slowly. "I DID tell you it was wonderful, and you doubted me. I DID try to hold you, and you moved away. I wasn't pointing out your mistakes, I was pointing out MINE, and ..." He doesn't know how to say he doesn't KNOW what's wrong with him, so he leaves it at that. "Maybe that's what you were trying to do," says Justin, "but that's not what you DID. And fuck ... what the hell makes you think you made any fucking mistakes, anyway? It was PERFECT, until after. Fucking perfect."

"I meant, not realizing what you were telling me when you said you were 'ready'... " JC stops trying to justify it, amazed that he is actually getting ANGRY at Justin, that he's saying things that are actually *affecting* him despite the fact that he thought he'd closed himself off. "Look, fuck that. Never mind. You're right, I didn't make any mistakes, cause I couldn't fucking DO anything. And that's how you like it, right? Just you, doing your thing? I was just a bigger toy." "You are NOT a toy," shouts Justin, kneeling up on the bed. "You're JC and you were the first person I ever had sex with and why are you making me feel so AWFUL for it?!"

"Because you did it to ME!" JC cries in response, crossing his arms in front of his chest protectively. "You made me actually feel SOMETHING, before, and during, and for christ's sake DEFINITELY after, and I don't know what to DO with that." "JC," says Justin, "just get your ass over here, NOW, okay?"

"FUCK that," JC tells him, bending over to grab his underwear, but his voice is shaky. "I'm not. I'm not giving in to you any more. I hate feeling, I hate feeling like THIS, and since you're the only thing that's ever MADE me feel like this, I'm NOT." "Come HERE!" repeats Justin. "Just do it, JC."

"NO!" JC is practically screaming now, his lips quivering. "I'm not tied up for you, anymore. You don't get to do whatever you want to me." JC is starting to panic, more at his own reaction than anything, when he sees the bottle of vodka on the floor by the bed, half-covered by the edge of the comforter.

Justin jumps down off the bed, grabs JC's arm and just kisses him, fiercely, hungrily, surely. "Shut up," he says, sounding surprisingly calm now. "Stop hurting me."

JC sobs a little into Justin's mouth before pushing him away, focusing over his shoulder at the alcohol again. "I'm not doing ANYTHING to you," he exhales. "I'd appreciate it if you'd do the same for me." "Calm down," says Justin, still holding him. "Just calm the fuck down, JC." He kisses JC's forehead before he can be stopped. "I can't believe I was just going to roll over and let you walk away. No. I'm not like htat. I'm fucking FIGHTING for you, here. Don't run. Don't LEAVE. Don't be terrified just because you FELT something."

"Don't," JC says warningly, squirming away from Justin's touch. "You better not start treating me like a KID. *I* had enough fucking respect for YOU not to do it when I was way more justified than this." He pauses and pulls on his underwear, still sniffling. "Plus, you telling me how awful I made you feel, how much I'm *hurting* you ... why the hell shouldn't I leave?"

"I'm not treating you like a fucking kid and you know it, C," says Justin, really NOT letting himself be pushed aside this time. "Do whatever you need to do to feel okay again, but DON'T fucking go, okay? *I* would break down if you left, and that would just make you feel worse. And you know that, too. I'm TIRED of things fucking up after we have sex, JC. Let's not do that anymore, okay? Just get back on the fucking bed with me and we'll touch and stuff and everything will be okay."

JC doesn't look at him, staring at the floor and sneaking more glances over at the vodka. If Justin had just had this change of heart five minutes ago, when JC was telling *him* the same exact thing, everything WOULD be okay. Instead, Justin started pouting, rejected him, told him he was *hurting* him, and THEN tried to be patronizing and even a little pushy, and JC just can't find it in himself to be the bigger man about anything else today. Especially with a much easier way of making everything be okay -- for him at least -- staring him in the face. "I'm not really in the mood," he tells him tonelessly, not even caring at this point that he might be guaranteeing that they never even have another OPPORTUNITY to fuck up after sex.

Justin lets go of him, turns away, lets his shoulders slump. "I think I need to be alone now," he says softly, looking down, all his excited energy lost. He crosses his arms over his chest, almost as though he's trying to cover his body. "I can't believe you ... never mind. Just go, okay? And take that goddamn bottle with you, too. You've already fucked me with it twice; I just want it gone."

JC's head snaps up guiltily at being caught staring at the vodka, then his eyes narrow. "What are you *talking* about, 'I fucked you with it'? What does THAT mean?" He hasn't moved any closer to the door, or the alcohol, or the bed; he's almost frozen in place by too many choices and not enough self-awareness to know what he wants MOST.

"What does it matter?" asks Justin bitterly. "You got what you wanted, JC. You got my virginity, in every way possible. You got your fucking bragging rights ... which it's now obvious is all you wanted out of me all along. That's really fucking low, JC. Even for you. ESPECIALLY for you." Justin continues to look away as his dreams just start to crumble all around him.

THAT spurs JC into movement. He stalks toward the door, not even considering bothering with the bottle, before stopping, turning back around and shoving Justin's chest. "No way. No WAY are you gonna pin that on me; leave here thinking this was MY idea, and MY fault. This was always always ALWAYS about what you wanted, and you KNOW that. I DON'T fucking care about telling anyone what we did, and you know THAT, too. God ... you don't know how lucky you ARE, that it happened this way for you. It may have been a little rocky in places, and there weren't fucking flowers and candles and shit, but at least you weren't ... " He trails off, chest heaving, catching himself before he says something he does NOT want anyone to know.

"At least I wasn't WHAT?" asks Justin angrily. "I was fucking SAVING that," he adds. "For YOU. And you treat it like I handed you a fucking burger or something. Gobble it up and throw whatever's left afterwards away." He shakes his head furiously looking down, waiting for JC to answer him. Waiting for JC to tell him just what the fuck he's TALKING about when he says at least he wasn't something.

"For the LAST fucking TIME, I didn't ACT like that!" JC retorts. "You KNOW it meant something to me that you trusted me with this -- how else could I *ever* have trusted you enough to let you do what you did? Do you ..." He takes a deep breath and grabs Justin's shoulder, looking into his eyes almost desperately. "If you never tell me the truth ever again in your life, don't lie to me about this: do you REALLY feel like I didn't care that you lost your virginity to me? Did I REALLY do something to make you think that? Or ... are we both too upset right now to know what we're saying?"

"You won't even fucking hold me," mutters Justin, wrapping his arms around himself tightly and very conscious of his nakedness. "I don't KNOW if I'm just upset or what, but you won't even make me feel special. Is that REALLY too much to ask? Didn't you want that, too?"

JC realizes that wasn't really a clear answer, but he's overwhelmingly relieved that at least Justin didn't say something as straightforward as: "Yes. You made me feel like my virginity wasn't important." Going into this, that was the *one* thing JC swore he wouldn't do, the one thing that would be too much like his own experience that he could never forgive himself if he was the reason it happened to someone else. And he knows he DID try to hold Justin, before he shrank away, even if he doesn't have the guts to do it again just yet. "Didn't I want what?" he asks, just to make sure.

"Didn't you want to be held, after you lost your virginity?" he says. "By Joey ... I guess. Didn't you want someone to let you feel like, yeah, it was a big deal, but it's okay?" He still holds himself, and looks down. He's expecting JC to tell him to stop being such a baby, to just suck it up and admit that it's about fucking TIME he lost it, and he should be fucking THANKING him.

"Yes," JC replies simply, not adding that that's not what he got. He moves past Justin to sit down on the bed, resting his elbows on his knees and putting his head in his hands. "I held you last night, Justin, after you let me inside you. I tried to hold you just now, after you were inside *me*, after you *untied* me so I could." His voice is soft and muffled by his hands. "I just ... forgot, what it was like, to have the luxury of sleeping with someone that would let it last for more than thirty seconds. If it's not too late, I could maybe ... try again?"

Justin smiles at him suddenly. "Yes," he says easily, going over and sitting down next to him, but not touching. "Um ... about the tying thing? I just ... it was your idea. And I kinda though we both enjoyed it. But you keep bringing it up now, JC ... "

JC feels the bed shift under Justin's weight and drops his hands to look at him. Scooting back a little, he wraps a finger in one of Justin's ringlets, then nudges the other man's head into his lap, wrapping what he hopes is a comforting and innocuous arm around his back. "I *did* enjoy it," he murmurs, stroking Justin's hair and back. "And I know it was my idea. I'm still just ... surprised? That you did what you did while you had me like that." He *doesn't* go into all the reasons it worried him, too -- not when they're both calming down and not relying on sex to do it.

"Do you really want to know why?" asks Justin softly, letting JC do whatever he wants with him. Which is their normal pattern now, really. "Because I think I might have an answer for it now." He closes his eyes, content for the moment. "Thank you," he says. "For THIS. For giving me what you finally remembered you had needed, too."

"I'll never not agree to do this, Justin," JC tells him, using longer, broader stokes along his back, enjoying the skin that's always so warm, no matter how cold JC is in the same room. "Sometimes I just need a reminder about how --" he swallows, "--making love is *supposed* to go." Sadly, even with Justin's complete lack of experience, JC thinks he might know better than he himself does. He thinks about Justin's question, then, not SURE if he wants to know why Justin needed to be so completely and unalterably in control. "And if you WANT to tell me why you did it when I couldn't touch you back, you can ... I can be just happy that it happened."

Justin nods a little bit, his head rubbing against JC. "I have a hard time .. not being in control. But it wasn't just that you were tied up, JC ... it was that you trusted me THAT much. I felt safe and really, really wanted. I mean ... the sounds that you were making, and the things that you were doing? Were just making me fucking HOT, JC. We were both just really, really into it ... and it just felt like the right time. And -- even if you didn't understand it at the time -- I DID tell you that I was ready. That I wanted it. I wanted you to be as excited about that as I was." He runs his hand lazily over JC's leg. "I'm gonna ask you something you won't like."

JC bites his lip, steeling himself for the question, trying not to get upset again at his own stupidity and insensitivity when Justin told him he was ready -- trying to understand how Justin can insist he didn't make any mistakes when he *obviously* was still dwelling on how JC had reacted. He hunches his shoulders a little to kiss Justin's hair, then resumes petting him.

Justin takes JC's silence as a go-ahead. "This is probably stating the obvious ... but your first time wasn't the way you wanted it to be, was it." He lets that statement --it's hardly a question -- hang between them for a moment, and hopes that JC will give him some sort of honest answer instead of being upset he asked.

JC realizes he shouldn't be surprised that Justin figured that out -- they've become too close, and he's really perceptive anyway, and he *knows* Joey, after all. "Well," he says awkwardly, "I think maybe your experiences over the past 48 hours have demonstrated that even when both people have really good intentions, first times are rarely what we want them to be." He keeps caressing Justin, but instead of looking at him, he stares out the window at nothing.

"I'd like it if you told me about it," says Justin softly. "So ... maybe I'll understand." He keeps touching JC's body gently. He's become intimately familiar with it now, but he still loves to touch it, feel it, trace its curves and planes.

"Oh, Justin," JC sighs, his hand stilling on Justin's back. He doesn't want to refuse, because he's aware that however they leave this room will determine how Justin remembers *his* first time. One of them, anyway. But... "Understand what?" he asks him. "Cause you KNOW Joey, and it'll be awkward to know that you know those kind of intimate details about us. I think you're smart enough to realize that it didn't end the way I expected it to -- at the time, at least."

"Understand YOU," says Justin. "Understand why you do the things you do. I don't need to change you, JC, but I'd like to be able to at least understand you." He turns slightly so that he can see him. "Yeah, I know Joey. More or less. But what you're saying could mean just SO many things, and I think you know that."

"You already understand me, Justin," JC says softly, still staring out the window, not really aware that Justin's watching him. "You do, or you wouldn't be asking. Something happened between us that maybe explains why I treat sex casually -- *too* casually, maybe. Something happened that, like, *ingrained* in me that sex doesn't *ever* guarantee a relationship, and probably shouldn't. And it probably did other stuff, too, that I'm not even aware of. But I don't ... resent HIM, for it."

"I never said you resented him," says Justin, kissing JC's bare flesh. "Though maybe you should. What was it that happened, JC? What was it that did all that to you?"

"That's what I was telling you," JC replies, squirming a little on the bed. "Just *something*, everything that happened, the whole ordeal ... I can't put words to it, just the 'feeling' I was left with." He bites his lip, then blurts out in the same quiet voice: "I'm not going to tell you details, tell you every thing he said that made me feel like not much more than a body, and I'm not going to tell you how the way he looked at me afterwards made me *sure* he'd laugh at me if I thought it meant he loved me, and I'm not going to tell you how he politely suggested I leave after I got cleaned up even though I wanted nothing more than to stay. That's just ... more than you need to know."

"*I* don't want you to leave," says Justin softly. He doesn't mention anything about love, though -- it's like the word is taboo between them. Even though he thinks that he COULD. "It sucks that he did that to you. I hope your first time with me was a better experience." He pauses for a moment. "A fresh start, maybe? The right way?"

JC smiles down at Justin fondly, yanked away from his worst memory by a few simple sentiments from the man in his arms. He can't help wondering again how Justin can be so innocent about some things, and squeezes him gently. "*I* thought it was wonderful, when you didn't scare me to death with your reactions," he whispers. "But I'm not who I'm worried about."

Justin chuckles softly. "Just think of them as tears of happiness, okay?" he says. "Because there's not one single sexual experience that I've had with you that I haven't found wonderful." Justin hesitates to ask his next question, knowing it's potentially a real can of worms. "JC ... do you think this can be more than the sex? I'm not sure what a relationship IS, but I know we've both accused each other of just being in it for the sex ... and I want more than that, with you."

JC lets his hands fall to his side and he sits up a little straighter -- not pushing Justin away, but not curling up around him any more, either. "Justin ... " he starts, "I thought ... we kinda talked about this, right? About not knowing what we want? I didn't ... I mean, did I do something to make you think that's changed? It's NOT just sex, but ... a 'relationship' ..."

"Never mind," says Justin, forcing himself not to tense up, to not even move, really. "Sorry. Could you, um, keep doing that thing with your hand? I was enjoying that." If JC can't take that as a peace offering, for accusing him of just wanting his virginity, then there's not much point in pursuing it at all. Justin reminds himself of his resolve to just take whatever he can get. "Which thing?" JC asks distractedly, leaning over him again, his hands hovering over Justin's body. "With the ... hair? Or ... um, your back?" He traces along Justin's shoulderblade while he waits for his instructions. "You don't have to censor yourself," he tells Justin, then. "Don't say 'nevermind' if there's something you think I should know ... I *know* we've been through that. Is it ... I mean, do you want more now, do you think? Other than the sleeping with each other, and that other stuff you said?"

"Either," says Justin. "Just be touching me, okay? And ... well, I DO feel like I have to censor myself. If I tell you everything I'm thinking, you'll run." It's painful to admit that, but he knows it's true. "I guess I was talking about that other stuff. Just ... so it's not just the sex."

"Cause ... I mean, I think I'll be okay with that other stuff," JC continues before practically picking Justin up in his arms and dragging him further back on the bed with him, wrapping their legs together and burying his face in Justin's hair. He tugs the sheet up and over their heads, coccooning them cozily. "Now can you tell me?"

"Maybe," whispers Justin, pressing his face to JC's neck. "I'm ... I want to be able to call you my boyfriend and do all those things together that couples do. I want to lay on your lap in front of the television and hold your hand and just kiss you without it having to go anywhere. I want Joey to take one look at us and KNOW we're together because of the way you touch my back, and the smile on my face. And know I'm more to you than he could ever be, that you FOUND what you were looking for back then. I'm ... sorry I want those things, I guess. I know it's not what you're looking for. But ... you did ask."

"Justin," JC breathes, pawing clumsily at Justin's face and then kissing him gently. "That's the nicest ...you should never be sorry for what you want -- I just have to be sorry for what I can't..." He bites his lip, thinking how fucking SWEET it was that Justin wanted to sort of show off in front of Joey, and changes what he was going to say -- except the words are so hard he can barely hear them himself. "It wasn't. What I was looking for, I mean. I'm not sure that it is now, either, but ... if you're offering ... can I try?"

"I thought you were just looking to get laid, at first," says Justin with a sweet smile. "I'd like to think I convinced you that you deserve more. That you WANTED more." He kisses him back. "I AM offering. And I want to try."

JC smiles into Justin's mouth even as his heart starts aching a little. Even in the beginning, he didn't start things with Justin so he could get laid -- he could get that a lot of places. He's surprised and a little scared that Justin didn't realize that it was more about not having to be alone, and maybe wanting to experience what it was like to be with someone who *thought* about him as much as Justin obviously did. "Okay," he says quietly, sucking on Justin's lower lip. "Can we just ... start slow? And maybe not put any ... *labels* on anything, just yet?"

"Okay," says Justin, between brief, soft kisses. "Slow is fine, when it comes to that. You're just my JC. That's all. That okay?" He caresses JC's skin, but he's not trying to start anything. Not that he USUALLY is ... sex between them just seems to HAPPEN.

JC nods, pulling the sheet up tighter over their heads, trying to relax into Justin's hands. "I can handle that. Um ... are there any rules, to being 'yours'? I mean, besides not sleeping with Joey?" He tries to laugh, but it comes out kind of strangled -- not because he's upset at the prospect of not doing it anymore, just because of all the memories that had been dredged up earlier.

"No rules," says Justin. "Except ... be faithful." He kisses him again. And again. "It's too new to me, to know how this is going to work. So we play it by ear."

"Okay," JC tells him. "You need to talk to me, though. Make sure I know what you're thinking ... don't hide it and assume I'm reading you right."

"You, too," insists Justin. "JC, you HAVE to talk to me, too. Because I CAN'T read you. I suck at it."

JC laughs and snuggles closer to Justin. "You don't, either. You knew all that about Joey, without me telling you ..."

"Not ... exactly," says Justin, closing his eyes. "Maybe sometimes I like to pretend I'm naive, and pretend that people just can't BE like that."

"What?" JC asks in confusion, pulling back a little and tugging down the sheets so he can see Justin's face. "Did he ... tell you about it, or something?"

"No! Why would you think THAT?"

"Well..." JC says, furrowing his brow, "What's all this about pretending? And you look all ... concerned."

"I'm not naive and I'm not stupid," says Justin slowly. "I know what he's like, JC. I didn't know what he DID, to you, but I know what he DOES, to other people. So yeah, of COURSE I'm concerned. He hurt you and that ... sucks."

"It was a long time ago," JC sighs, wondering why neither of them will just let it GO. "And we were so young. He's ... not like that, anymore, really," JC tells him, although is some ways he's actually worse, and Justin probably knows that, too.

Justin just shrugs, not believing a word of it. "I'm just saying ... I don't need to be protected, okay? You need to talk to me about stuff. I ... I like it when you call me baby boy ... but I'm not, okay?" He kisses him yet again, then buries himself in the warmth of JC's throat. He likes it there, the heat, the comfort, the soft skin to lap and kiss.

JC rests his chin on the top of Justin's head and squeezes him to his chest again. "How 'bout I talk to you about the stuff that matters to me from this point on? I'm not trying to, like, *shield* you from anything, it's just...it's in the past." "As long as you DO," says Justin. "As long as you DO talk to me, and tell me things when I ask, and don't just brush them off. Yeah, I know I sound whiny about this, but I'm SERIOUS. I need that."

Tilting Justin's face back up so he can kiss him again, slowly and deeply, JC wonders WHY it matters so much to Justin, and whether that's one of the 'relationship'-type things that he'll expect that JC knows he'll end up being absolutely worthless at. "I'll try," he tells him before sliding his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

Justin can't answer, being that his mouth is full of tongue. Instead, he just kisses back and holds their tangled bodies tightly together.

JC shifts a little, pressing Justin's torso deeper into the bed, releasing his lips but moving to suck on his earlobe instead. "You still mad at me?" JC asks lightly.

"I'm not mad at you," promises Justin, gasping a little. "I'm a little ... awed, now. About what we just did. Kinda doesn't seem real to me, yet."

"Seems real to *me*," JC smiles, his ass sore in that wonderful, well-fucked way. He lowers his voice a little and purrs in Justin's ear: "Do you need to fuck me again, so you can be sure you weren't dreaming?"

Justin chuckles a little. "Yes," he admits softly. "I REALLY want to do that again some time. I ... I know what it is now. What it's all about. It'll be less ... weird next time." He kisses JC's shoulder. "I promise."

JC isn't dissuaded. "You have some pressing engagement now, or something?" He presses, letting his palm roam over Justin's ass. "And it wasn't weird. *IT* wasn't weird, just ... the after."

Justin lifts his head, a little surrprised. "You want me to ... now?" he asks. "Aren't you ... um ... sore?" He knows he would be, but then he also knows that HE would have done it again, and loved it just as much, if he was in the same position ... "

Ducking his head to kiss Justin again, JC keeps his eyes open the whole time. "God, yeah, I'm sore," he murmurs as he pulls back, wiggling a little against Justin. "But I want it worse; and you've already got me all loose and ready ..."

Justin moans softly into JC's kiss. "You're making it very ... hard ... to say no ... " And in truth, Justin doesn't WANT to say no. There's nothing holding him back anymore.

"You don't want me?" JC asks, feeling a little guilty that he's falling back so easily in their already-established pattern of making out to avoid uncomfortable topics or to resolve conflict. He cups his hand beneath Justin's ass, just at the top of his thigh, and grinds into him slowly.

"You know I do," says Justin, moaning again. He closes his eyes. "God ... You KNOW I do."

"But you don't want to do anything about it?" JC asks further, really wondering if Justin *wants* to say no, and if he should lay off. "If it was too weird for *you*, or something ...?"

"Shut UP," groans Justin, rolling up against him. "Don't you know a tease when you hear one?"

"Sometimes it feels like everything you say is a tease," JC grins at him, rubbing a little harder against Justin's hip. "Or ... at least, practically everything you say makes me want you, so."

"You're just horny," laughs Justin, clutching at JC's back. "*I* can't be making you this hot."

JC pauses and stares at him, then bends over and licks up the side of his neck slowly. "I thought we had this conversation, about what it is you do to me."

"Yeah, but it's still hard to believe," admits Justin softly.

"Why?" JC asks seriously, licking down the other side of his throat, letting his tongue linger in the hollow of his neck. "You've already gotten me to beg for your dick, again, and I ... *never* do that."

"Well ... " says Justin meekly, "how was *I* supposed to know that." He tilds his head back, lets JC have his way with his throat. "I don't usually have that effect on real people."

"Which part didn't you know?" JC frowns, nipping at Justin's skin with his teeth. "That I was begging, or that I never do it? 'Cause, I mean ... I don't know how much more blatant to be," he mutters, scooting his hips up Justin's body and rubbing his groin along the tight muscles of his abs.

"That you never do it," says Justin, gasping. "That's I'm that much different, for you."

JC doesn't know how to tell Justin that's usually because he never has to wait long enough to need it like this, that he's usually making the other guy slow *down*. Right now, though, what they had done earlier was too much of a blur for JC, and he *does* want Justin inside him, to see what it might be like when they have time to breathe.

"Well..." he says softly, shifting his hips and bringing hips legs up alongside Justin's body, trying to encourage Justin to take advantage of his position, "You are."

"I'm glad." Justin, continuing his slow moans and kisses in JC's body. "I want to make you crazy for me." He reaches up and pinches at JC's nipples ... and quite deliberately DOESN"T just thrust up at him this time.

JC takes in a sharp breath when Justin starts teasing him that way, wiggling more and just barely keeping himself from rocking back against Justin's cock. "You *do*," he insists. "Tying me up, keeping me from touching you everywhere...you don't think that made me absolutely insane for you?"

Justin grins. "I guess I'm not having the most *common* first time experiences, am I?" He traces the muscles of JC's chest. "You know what I loved about that? That I could just touch you everywhere. That you let me. That I could just explore ... get comfortable with your body." He nudges up at JC with his cock, just a little.

Whimpering, JC slides up and away from Justin's dick, really trying to avoid being teased too much before Justin actually penetrates him, wanting to make it last this time. "Did it work?" He breathes, leaning down over his face, kissing his chin. "You think you know what to do with me, *to* me, now?"

"I think I"m learning," whispers Justin. "I think I'd like to do a lot MORE learning ... " He toys with JC's nipples a little more, noting the reaction that gets out of him.

JC's nipples are so tender at the moment, not really accustomed to much attention when he usually has sex, that JC moans again at the direct stimulation and arches his back. "Well, *I* think you're pretty fucking skilled," he breathes. "You shouldn't BE this good at it, so soon."

"Are you kidding?" says Justin, running his palms over JC's chest and down to his waist where he grips him lightly. "I'm so clumsy. But at least I've gotten good over the years at sticking things in holes ... "

JC's cock, long since erect, jumps at Justin's words and the implication behind them. He shifts his knees a little on the bed alongside Justin, squeezing his hips gently between his thighs before grasping onto Justin's forearms with his hands and steadying himself. "Please," he whispers in a strained voice.

"Like this?" asks Justin, nudging upwards with his cock a little, again.

"Oh, PLEASE," JC's hands clench tighter on Justin's arms when he feels the head of his cock brush against JC's puckered opening. He remembers how badly he had wanted to ram himself down on it if Justin had untied him earlier; that desire is even stronger now.

"Okay," whispers Justin, biting his lips a little. He's not entirely sure how to do it like this -- from THIS end -- but it's making him SO fucking hot just thinking about that he knows his skin must be flushed, all over. He nudges upwards again, making sure that he's in an okay place.

JC can't help but whimper again when the tip of Justin's cock starts to poke insistantly at his hole. He wants it, *so* badly, and hopes he's still lubricated enough to be able to take it. He starts to lower himself down on it before stopping abruptly and leaning forward. "Justin," he moans, "You should put on a condom, baby boy..."

"Oh shit," says Justin, knowing he's right. But he's ALMOST inside and it's SO hard to stop now ...

Squirming when Justin doesn't pull back, feeling his dick so hot and ready and THERE, all JC can do is push weakly at Justin's arms and keep himself hovering above him. "PLEASE, Justin ... "

Justin lets out a harsh, shuddery breath and back away a little. "They're behind you. Between the mattresses. Oh God ... hurry, JC ... fuck, I want you ... "

"Between the ... what?" JC asks breathlessly. But as he stretches behind himself to try and reach beside the bed, he leans back against Justin's cock again and can't help but let it slide in again, just slightly.

Justin moans. "Between the MATTRESSES, I stashed it there ... oh FUCK, JC ... I can't wait ... this is killing me .... "

Justin's cock just slides in deeper when JC moves to reach under the bed and he moans at the tugging friction inside him. "Justin ... I have to get off to reach them ..."

Justin whimpers a little. "Okay ... " he manages to get out, his voice strained.

JC rests his palms on Justin's chest to brace himself and throws his head back in pleasure when he starts sliding back up Justin's erection -- the motion too similar to a thrust during sex for his body not to react the way it normally would. Instead of throwing his leg over Justin's hip and kneeling beside him, he tilts his hips at an angle and Justin enters him again, even deeper.

"Oh, JC ... " breathes Justin. "Can we ... ?"

"oh, *don't*," JC pleads, feeling Justin move inside him again, knowing that now that the other man has felt what it's like to be inside someone *without* a condom, it's a distant second to do it with. But JC's not sure *he* has the willpower to stop it, either, no matter HOW much they should ... for Justin's sake, especially.

Justin takes a deep breath and stills. "Okay, fuck, HURRY, JC. I can't stop again. I just CAN'T!" Justin is almost crying from frustration now.

JC summons his strength to do it, trailing a finger across Justin's lips as he raises himself up using his knees. He whimpers when the head of Justin's cock exits his body, and gives Justin a pleading look before throwing his head over the edge of the bed to fumble for the condoms.

Justin pants for breath, balling his hands into fists as he waits. Sitting back up, JC grabs Justin's shaft and resumes his position straddling him. He lets a finger smooth over the tip of his cock, then lines it up at his entrance and guides it in again, even as he presses the foil package he found into Justin's hand.

"Fuck, JC ..." says Justin, his voice strangled. "You were supposed to ... I can't ... " He loses his internal battle and thrusts up into JC's body.

JC gasps as Justin fills him even better than before, and he can *feel* him, without any barriers. But it's that exact senstion that makes him arch his back and try to shift away. "I ... KNOW," he grunts. "But you have to ... put it on. On!"

"Then get off me," growls Justin. "Get off me or I CAN'T, JC. Fuck .... I want you so much it HURTS ... "

This time it's JC that thrusts down onto Justin's hips, groaning loudly when he feels the pressure against his prostate, flushing when Justin's hands on his hips squeeze *too* tight.

"Fuck it," says Justin, thrusting up again. "Just FUCK it, JC."

"Oh ... oh, *yeah*," JC gasps, rocking back against him and rotating his hips, knowing that he'd probably have to come too soon if Justin had to pull back out. "Fuck ME. I want to feel you ramming up into me, Justin, I don't fucking CARE about anything else."

Justin pulls down on JC's hips as he thrusts upwards recklessly, grunting. "Neither do I." He tosses the condom aside and puts his other hand back on JC's hip, gripping him firmly.

JC places one hand on Justin's belly to brace himself as Justin shoves into him deeper and deeper, and caresses his jaw with the other. He usually feels like he's in control in this position, but ... not with Justin, not when he needs it this badly.

"Oh, God ... " breathes Justin as he thrusts. "JC ... this is ... " He squeezes his eyes shut, tilts his head back, tries to get deeper and deeper into him. He reaches out blindly for JC's cock, starts touching it with clumsy, shaking fingers.

JC flushes even hotter when the soft pads of Justin's fingers brush over the tip of his erection, and he drives himself back down against Justin's hips even more roughly. "Just say ... it's okay," he pants, hoping Justin doesn't mind them doing it this way. "It's okay...to let me ride you?"

"It's okay," gasps Justin. "God YES! It's okay!"

Arching his back again, JC rotates his hips slowly as he pulls up. He opens his eyes and watches Justin's face, hoping that he's moving in ways that'll make him feel good, too.

Justin's mouth is hanging open slightly, his lips wet and red from biting at them, his eyes are still closed, his back arched. His breath comes in harsh pants as he digs his fingers into JC's hips and drives into him, struggling to thrust as JC sets the pace for them this time.

"God," JC moans, shutting his eyes again, unable to watch. "I can't ever... fucking LAST with you..." He reaches behind his body to grasp one of Justin's thighs, pulling it up a little, hopefully giving Justin more leverage to penetrate him even farther.

Justin bucks upwards, frantically, drawn in by the heat and tightness of JC's body, by his needy words, but the way JC is touching him. His hand returns to JC"s hip, hoping he's not being neglectful, needing the grip to be able to ram into JC's body with all his strength, the way JC'd asked for it. The way Justin himself is desparate for it to be right now. The sensations are just incredible.

JC cries out once, then again, when Justin grabs him and digs into his body so deeply JC thinks he can feel him all the way in his gut. He doesn't even care that he's about to come all over Justin's chest, that the younger man will think he has *no* stamina. He just covers Justin's hands with his own and encourages him to do everything harder.

Justin grits his teeth, his body a continuous mass of bucking, grinding, thrusting and gripping. He'll do ANYthing now, to get them off. He feels just completely out of control, more than he EVER has before. He forces himself to open his eyes and feasts himself on the sight of JC riding him, a look of anguished exstasy on his face.

With one last thrust of Justin's hips against hiss ass and thighs, JC throws his head back and practically wails as he comes. All of the muscles in his body are taut; streams of white fluid pulse from his cock in spurts and coat Justin's belly.

Justin watches in awe as JC comes and continues to drive into him, desperate to come himself, now. His whole body aches with the need, and he recognizes in the back of his head that without his ass being stimulated, it's just that TINY bit harder to do. He bites down on his lip as he thrusts one last time, his cock practically exploding inside JC, and hardly even notices that his teeth have broken the skin.

After the spasms from his own orgasm had subsided JC tried to keep moving against Justin, but as soon as he feels the eruption from Justin's cock inside him he slumps backward against his leg like he needed to all along. "Oh, god," he whispers, trailing his fingers blindly in the mess on Justin's torso idly. "GOD, that was so fucking hot ..."

Justin lets go of his lip, sucks in a huge breath, "Oh God, yes," he says. "Oh my God. Oh my God." Those are about the only words running through Justin's head at the moment. He lets go of JC's hips and his hands trail over his sides and chest looking for something else to clutch and stroke. He licks at his lip, tasting the blood on it with detached fascination.

JC shudders, a little, then forces his eyes open. "Oh, baby," he breathes, not even noticing the endearment, reaching a gentle finger to Justin's mouth. "Baby, what'd you do?"

Justin grins sheepishly. "I don't know," he whispers. "Doesn't matter. Kiss?" His voice is hopeful, but still low and breathy.

Knowing that he can't lean over far enough to reach his lips without Justin having to pull out of him -- the last thing he wants -- JC struggles to get his hands under Justin's shoulders and helps him sit up. Then he digs his hands into his hair and attacks his lips, purring a little when he tastes the blood. "Poor thing."

Justin gets lost in the kisses, his body still not completely recovered from the orgasm, and he lets it happen, lets his instincts take over as he kisses JC back over and over again. "I'm fine," says Justin, finally, a long while later. "I'm ... good."

JC pulls his head back just enough to be able to focus on Justin's face searchingly. His own lips are tinged with Justin's blood now, his cheeks a deep pink, his hair sticking to his forehead. "Promise?" Feeling Justin start to soften inside him, he wonders what made him pause.

"Yes," says Justin, his head still spinning from the whole thing. "Good. So good." He reaches up, touches JC's cheek with his hand, wonderingly, then moves it back down to rest his weight on it. His hand comes into contact with the unused condom and he lifts it up with a trembling hand. "Oh God ... we didn't ... "

An expression of pain crosses over JC's face briefly, turning into one of guilt as he stiffens and scrambles to pull away from Justin as quickly as he can. "I'm ... sorry. I tried, and ... I mean, I KNOW better ... "

"JC, come back," moans Justin, feeling the loss acutely. "Please don't go, not this time ... "

JC pauses and then buries his face in Justin's neck. "But you're ... mad, or worried, and ... it's my fault."

"Um, JC?" says Justin softly. "Forgive me for pointing out the obvious, but it's HARDLY all your fault. Did I stop you? Did I stop ME?"

"But..." JC tries to remember. "You DID. You told me to get off of you, so you could put it on, but I didn't listen, and I kept teasing ..." And now Justin's worried, and JC thinks he *should* be, because he knows that only one of them was a virgin.

"I didn't," says Justin, biting on his sore lip a little. "I take responsibility for that JC. I knew better, too. And *I* didn't. *I* decided that I just needed to fuck you because it was you and we were so hot and it was so good."

"Oh .. okay," JC says meekly and awkwardly, still hiding his face. It *was* hot, but he vows they won't ever do that again, without one. "I'm still so, so sorry ... I hope that's not what you'll remember, from what we just did ..."

"It's not," says Justin, forcing JC to look him in the face and smiling at him. "Wow. I want to do that again."

"Now?" JC smiles back, just like he asked earlier, but this time it's obviously a joke. Not only did they just have sex without a condom, they didn't really use any lube either, and JC is starting to feel that omission as well.

Justin chuckles a little. "As if I could," he admits.

"Well," JC blushes, remembering how he had literally begged for it earlier. "We can do it as much as you CAN. Always. All the time. Every night ... no, TWICE a night. And, um ... again, when we wake up. I want your dick in me every, EVERY day."

Justin kisses him abruptly, roughly, the bite bleeding a little again from the impact. "Okay," he says. "I'm addicted."

"To me?" JC ventures softly, licking his lips and frowning as he wipes blood off of Justin's mouth with a hesitant finger.

"To you," agrees Justin, kissing him again. "To sex with you. To being with you."

JC smiles and blushes but pulls back slowly anyway. "Maybe you should, um ... put something on your lip? It must sting, when you do that ..."

"A little," Justin admits, licking it. "It'll be okay. I ... don't want to move." He grins at JC. "You exhausted me," he says, shifting a little bit and trying to relax his limbs. "It was wonderful."

"I can get it for you," JC offers shyly, looking down at his own body sprawled over Justin's frame. "I probably should get up, anyhow ..."

"Don't go," says Justin softly, suddenly afraid that JC will leave, if he lets him get up. Like he's always tried to do before.

"But ..." JC protests, "I'm crushing you. And I don't want you to hurt." He presses his mouth to the unbroken skin of Justin's upper lip. "I promise to come right back, if you want me to?"

Justin rolls them over onto their sides and kisses him again. "Now stay," he insists, trembling a little.

JC looks back at him with wide eyes. "Okay," he says softly, even more meekly. "I was just ... nevermind." JC won't let himself get upset over the fact that as much as Justin likes to take care of HIM, apparently he doesn't think JC can do the same.

"You were just what?" asks Justin. "Tell me, JC." He leans forward and kisses him softly, careful of the lip, now. "I just ... don't want you to leave me."

"I said I'd come back, baby boy," JC closes his eyes at how sweet and gentle Justin's lips are on his own. "And all I was gonna say was that ... well, I haven't really gotten a chance to *do* much for you. And have it turn out right. I just wanted to make sure you weren't hurt."

"I'm not hurt," Justin promises him, smiling shyly. "The best thing you can do, JC ... is just hold me right now. Okay?"

JC smiles weakly in return and wraps his arms around Justin, but his feelings are a little hurt. Especially when he realizes how scared Justin must be about letting him out of his sight, to be so insistent about it. "You hungry, Just?"

Justin nods a little and strokes JC's back. "But it can wait. This -- THIS -- is so nice, JC. This holding. With you. I don't really like it when Lance and Joey touch me, you know ... "

Squeezing him a little tighter, almost posessively, JC places a kiss at the top of Justin's ear. "Why not?" he encourages him softly, although he's pretty sure he can figure out why.

"It's not like this," says Justin, shrugging a little. "It's not ... tender. I felt kinda dirty, after."

JC frowns again at that, still having no idea what really *happened* with Joey and Lance and Justin, after they watched him. "They didn't ... do anything to you, did they?" he manages to ask.

"We just slept," says Justin. "They held me. And ... touched ... a little. But they were asleep, so it didn't mean anything. I just didn't like being held by THEM. It wasn't right. It's RIGHT, with you."

"Wait, they 'touched' you?" JC tries to look at Justin. "I don't ... was that before? Actually ... you know what? Nevermind, it's none of my business." JC bites his lip hard and closes his eyes. "I'm just glad you like me touching you."

"I wouldn't have brought it up if you couldn't ask about it, JC," says Justin, kissing JC's and teasing his teeth away from his lip. "It wasn't bad. Just stroking my stomach and my ass and stuff. The kind of stuff normal people do in their sleep when they have their arms wrapped around someone else, I guess. It just didn't want them doing it."

JC tries to let himself be soothed, but it's not easy to get that picture out of his head -- especially when he keeps fixating on why it's bothering him. "Then why did you let them? Why'd you *do* that, anyway, Justin?" JC's voice is a little pleading, but there's no accusation in his tone.

Justin shakes his head. "I don't KNOW," he says. I didn't want to, not really, but they were talking and messing with each other ... and I got really horny ... and I just wanted some PRIVACY, and they offered their room. And then they watched. And I even KNEW, in the back of my mind, that they were going to, but I JUST wanted to get off, in relative privacy. And then ... they held, me, after. I guess they got off, too."

"They turned you on, though?" JC asks quietly, trying to figure out why else Justin would get horny talking to them. "Watching Lance and Joey, together?"

Justin shakes his head, then nods a little. "Only the same way that porn turns me on," he admits. "I didn't really WATCH them, do anything more than kiss. They touched me a little then, too ... and I'd never really been touched ... and I guess my body just reacted. They embarassed me, too. Teased me about getting myself off. It was ... awkward. I don't know if I did the right thing or not ... "

The more Justin tells him, the worse JC feels, and the father away he slides from Justin's body. He's worried that his own advances had been similarly unwelcome to begin with...or even worse, that the only reason Justin kissed him in the first place was because Lance and Joey had made him curious. And he *still* doesn't know what Justin means when he says that they touched him, but he remembers Justin telling him that he'd never done ANYTHING sexual with anyone else ... which was, he guesses, just a line. "I'm sorry they did that, embarrassed you," JC tells him, running a hand through his own hair -- it's all he can really respond to.

"JC?" says Justin softly. "Did I do something wrong?"

"With them?" JC asks, knowing he should try to be assuring. "I don't think so, Justin. There's no way to know what's right for you until you do stuff that maybe ... doesn't feel as right."

"No, with you," says Justin, trying to get JC closer to him again. "Did I do something wrong with YOU? You're moving away ... and I don't understand why ... "

"Sorry," JC mumbles, forcing himself to curl back up next to him, letting a hand rest on his hip, wondering if Lance and Joey had done THAT, too. "No, you didn't do anything. I just ..." JC sighs, and relents and kisses Justin's shoulder. "I don't get them, sometimes."

"I know," says Justin, looking away for a moment. "It's weird ... I didn't even DO anything with them ... but it feels like ... you know. But they tried ,,, and I'm GLAD I didn't. I knew what I wanted -- " He kisses JC softly again. " -- and I have it, now."

JC lets Justin kiss him, and offers him a sad smile, hiding his desperation to change the subject before he demands that Justin give him a better damn explanation for why he STAYED if they bothered him that much. "You know you said the touching with them didn't count, because they were asleep ... does that mean it doesn't count with us, either, when we go to bed together?"

"Everything with you counts," says Justin. "Because you KNOW who you're with, in bed, when you're sleeping. Um... don't you? They didn't know they were touching ME ... I bet they thought they were touching one another."

"Okay," JC tells him, happy to get one good answer out of Justin, although he's fairly certain that, like him, Lance and Joey knew exactly who they were touching. "I would always know if I was touching you," he admits. "You're so warm, and you smell like ... just, you."

Justin smiles happily and runs his hands down JC's body. "I'm glad I'm here, with you. I makes me ... uncomfortable ... to think about the other night. I'm glad I left when I did ... even though they were probably wondering where the hell I was when they woke up." He rests his head against JC's chest. He doesn't talk about JC's smells, because they're nice, but they're also still quite alcohol-rich. And he doesn't want to talk about that, right now.

JC sighs, wondering if the fact that Justin KEEPS bringing Lance and Joey up means that he has something else he needs to get out, about what he did with them. "I'm sure they were," he replies resignedly. "Just? Did ... was there something else, that happened? That you want to tell me, about Lance and Joey?"

"I ... I don't think so," says Justin. "I just ... it was making me uncomfortable ... and I thought I could talk about that with you ... " Justin looks at him sadly, runs a hand down the center of his chest.

Closing his eyes under Justin's touch, JC tries not to let it affect him like it usually does. "I'm sorry, you can," JC whispers. "I was just ... " -- WHAT was he? mad, or upset, or ... envious? -- "Jealous." He finishes, knowing THAT doesn't make any sense, and isn't exactly correct, but it's the closest thing to what he feels.

"Jealous?" repeats Justin in confusion. "Of what? I don't get it. I was telling you about this awful, awkward nigh I had, and you're jealous? Of who?" "Not *jealous*," JC backpedals. "Just ... I don't like thinking about them doing that to you. *Especially* if you didn't want it, that's just ..." JC shakes his head. "You shouldn't be USED like that?"

Justin nods, not wanting to protest that. "They didn't do anything ... intimate. If that's what you're worried about. I mean it WAS intimate, TOO intimate, but it was just back and legs and arms and ... and they never touched me the way YOU do. In the places I let you. In the places I WANT you too. They never kissed me, JC. And I'm SO thankful for that."

"Really?" JC asks. "They didn't even try, to kiss you?" That doesn't sound like Joey, OR Lance, and JC's still not really sure whether what Justin's telling him is the whole truth. "I'm glad you're happy now, or still, that you did most of those things with me."

"Well ... they told me I would like it ... but no. You were my first, JC. For everything."

JC smiles and kisses him then, again only on his upper lip, but that opens another can of worms JC hadn't let himself think about: how the two of them, and Chris, were going to react to everything that had happened between him and Justin in the past 48 hours. "Well, that *sounds* like Lance," JC admits, kissing Justin's nose with a small frown. "You might have liked it, you know."

Justin shakes his head. "Not with them, JC. I mean ... I don't doubt they're good at it ... but if I felt dirty after just them touching me, imagine how I'd be feeling if they kissed me, you know? I don't know. It was really weird."

"I'm sure it was," JC rubs a hand down Justin's arm. "I don't want you to feel any worse about that, Justin, but it might have felt dirty because you didn't ... *share* anything with them. I don't think it's *them*."

"I didn't WANT to share anything with them," says Justin quickly. "I just ... no. I wanted to be alone. And they couldn't even give me THAT."

JC sighs, and thinks about how Joey at least is no good at taking 'no' for an answer, and squeezes Justin tight. "I'm sorry," he says again. "Is this helping, really? To talk about it?"

Justin nods a little. "I didn't want to tell you about it, before. Well, obviously. And now ... you needed to know."

JC wishes fervently that Justin hadn't felt that way, because he's NOT sure it was anything he needed to know. SO much of him is saying to just let it go, and pretend he didn't hear it...but there's this other voice that is goading him to ask the questions he REALLY wants the answers to. "Justin?" he ventures. "Can I ... did what happened between us -- between you and me -- like, have anything to do with what *they* did?"

"What?" Justin looks at him, startled. "God, what I did with them almost made me NOT do anything with you."

"Oh," JC replies, wondering if that's worse. "So you kissing me was kinda something to help you *forget* about them?"

"No," says Justin. "No! Me kissing you was ... you KNOW the answer to this JC. Why are you asking? Don't you trust me?"

JC pauses almost a second too long. "I do; I trust you. It's just ... weird timing. Like, all of a sudden, you change your mind about something you've been so steadfast about for so long, and it happens the day after you're felt up by Lance AND Joey?" His voice is quiet but pained.

Suddenly Justin isn't so sure anymore, of his motives for ANY of this. "I ... no," he insists. "That's just what ... I mean, if you hadn't found me sneaking out of their room ... right?"

"I don't know," JC shrugs, rolling onto his back. "No, you're right ... nothing happened then, and I ... wasn't sober, so I guess if you were just doing it 'cause of them, you had plenty of opportunity then to do it. You're right." Of course, he doesn't sound too sure at all.

"I love you," Justin blurts out, then gets out of the bed, grabs his glasses off the bedside table, and goes over to his dresser for clothes. "Speaking of things you need to know." That doubtful tone in JC's voice just breaks down the last barriers he has. It doesn't fucking matter anymore.

JC sits up immediately when Justin scrambles out of the bed, eyes wide and scared, gathering the sheets around his waist. "You ... what?"

"I love you," says Justin again, his voice not quite so flat this time. "I didn't do any shit with Joey and Lance and you WEREN'T any fucking substitute, okay? And there's nothing left I can do to convince you of that."

"I didn't ..." JC starts. "That's not ... " He swings his legs off the bed, knocking over the bottle of vodka still on the floor when he does. He stares at it, frowning. "You didn't have to say that, Justin, just to ... prove a fucking POINT."

"It's not about a POINT," says Justin, just staring at him. "God, do you have to fuck up EVERYthing, JC? Can't you ever just fucking believe that something NICE is happening? Shit ... at least it's obvious why I didn't TELL you."

JC's lip starts to quiver even as he sticks his chin out. The first time he's ever heard those words, and they were just used to make him believe Justin about Lance and Joey? "I guess I DO fuck up everything," he breathes, turning to leave. "I should probably go do some more of that."

"I wanted to say, when we kissed," Justin tells him, looking away. "But I figured you'd freak. Guess I was right about that."

If JC wasn't so disheartened, he'd fight Justin on that -- saying something about how it's good to know he has such high expectations for him. But Justin's words about fucking up are hitting him too hard: he MUST be a fuck-up, for hoping that was supposed to be something special at all. He kicks at the bottle at his feet, shoulders slumped. "Yeah. I fucked up another one of your tests."

"JC!" says Justin in frustration. "It's not. A fucking. TEST! I'm in love with you, okay? I have been for a long time. I just didn't think it was time to SAY it, yet. But there IS something I don't understand ... every time something good happens to us, it's like you don't want to BELIEVE it. I don't get that, JC. Why don't you want to be happy?"

"Is that what you think?" JC asks quietly, swallowing when Justin makes it even worse by saying he's IN love with him. "You think I mess this up every time, on purpose, because I like being fucking lonely?" "I don't KNOW," says Justin. "That's why I"m ASKING, JC. Because I don't understand. We've been fucking and fighting this whole time and ... I could do without the fighting bit, you know? Less fighting, more cudding? And I can't tell if you just don't WANT that, or if you're AFRAID of it."

"It's neither," JC tells him, mumbling, sitting back down on the bed but picking up the vodka as he does, twisting and untwisting the cap. "I don't know what to DO with it. Fuck-ups are like that."

"What do you WANT?" asks Justin. "Can you even answer me that?"

JC shakes his head. "I thought ... we were gonna try 'being together,' or whatever, but ..." he continues miserably, "Every time I think I'm giving you enough, something else comes up that I just screw up at. So does it even matter?"

"I don't know anymore," says Justin, staring at his feet. "I don't think you want me. I don't think it matters to you that I love you. I don't think it matters if you drink that fucking vodka, so go ahead. Yeah, I want to be together, but not ... not if you don't want me. As *I* am." "You don't think I want you," JC says flatly, a sad pout still on his lips, as he leaves the bottle uncapped. "After everything I ... " It hits JC again just HOW bad he is at this, and HOW much he doesn't deserve any emotion from Justin, even though it feels now like it's the ONLY thing that matters to him. "Don't take it back," he says under his breath. Justin frowns at him. "Don't take WHAT back?"

JC doesn't even want to tell him, because he knows he will -- he'll take it back that he wants to take care of him ... he'll take it back that he wants to be his boyfriend ... he'll take it back that he loves him, is IN love with him. "Nothing," he whispers, raising the vodka to his lips as he wipes at his eyes, taking a deep swallow.

Justin sniffles a little, watching him drink, watching the choice that JC is making. "I don't want to believe that," he says.

"What?" JC says dully, taking two more drinks before dropping the bottle back on the floor listlessly and falling back onto the bed.

"That I'm nothing," whispers Justin.

Pulling himself up on his elbows, JC arches an eyebrow at him, the alcohol feeling comfortable and warm in his body. "That's NOT what I said," he tells him, then falls back onto his back, staring at the ceiling.

"Then tell me what you mean," says Justin, his voice catching. "Or I have to leave."

JC throws an arm across his face, after everything, after having some vodka even, not wanting Justin to go. "Can you promise me you won't? Take it back, if I tell you?" "There's nothing I've said that I'm willing to take back," says Justin.

His voice is muffled through his arm, but JC speaks loudly enough to be heard. "I don't want you to take back what you said about loving me, just because I don't know how to react. Just because I think there's no way this perfect man can mean it, when he says it to me...?" "We can't help who we fall in love with," says Justin, moving closer to him again, thinking this is ALMOST like acceptance. "And I did. Fell hard, I did." He sits down on the end of the bed, carefully. "Look, you don't have to feel it back or anything. But fuck ... we were just going to go into ALL the wrong places, if I didn't tell you. If you didn't at least KNOW."

"Just ... be honest," JC pleads, sitting up suddenly. "You didn't say it because you wanted to convince me of anything, you said it because in your head and heart and gut it's what you feel?"

Justin nods. "It's what I feel. It's ... the last thing I was scared to tell you. In case it made you run." Justin looks down again. "I'm still not sure you won't ... "

"Me either," JC breathes, honestly, staring at Justin in a little bit of awe. "But you're not gonna take back the other parts? You'll still take care of me, and sleep with me, and all that?"

Justin nods. "I'm spoiled now," he says. "I've have you ... and I don't want to go back." "Okay," JC whispers. When he looks up again, he meets Justin's eyes. "Thank you," he tells him, trying to convey how he feels with a reference he hopes Justin will understand. "I'm glad you were MY first."

"Your ... first?" says Justin, his eyes wide.

JC nods, watching him from under his eyelashes. "So maybe you can understand about reacting to something you've never experienced before?"

"Can I kiss you now?" asks Justin softly. Innocently.

JC nods again, holding his hands in his lap; a little surprised *Justin* was surprised, a little worried about what it means.

Justin moves up the bed, lays his fingers lightly against JC's cheek, and kisses him. "I love you," he whispers, and feels an overwhelming sense of relief just being able to SAY that, even thought it should have been somethign that was obvious from the first moment he let JC touch him.

The warmth JC gets from hearing those words from Justin, now that he *knows* he means them, is what JC realizes he's been chasing with the alcohol. He lets his lips melt against Justin's again, letting his own hand drift up to hold Justin's against his face. "Oh," he exhales softly. "Justin."

Justin closes his eyes and wishes this one moment could last forever. Because he can't predict what the next one will bring. --- "Fucking OW," JC cringes, pushing at Justin's hand as he tries to press the washcloth full of ice against his cheek again. He has a deep cut right on the bone where Lance's ring sliced open his skin, and the whole area under his eye is already swelling.

"Hold still," orders Justin in frustration. "We need to put ice on that. Just hope it doesn't need stiches."

"It won't," JC bats at him again. "Just stop, I can tell it's already swelling, the ice isn't going to help at this point. Fucking ASSHOLE!" He yells the last word, wondering if they can still hear him in the living room.

"Calm the fuck down," says Justin, batting JC's hand right back and pressing the ice to his face. "You want to be able to open your eye, don't you?"

"I don't care," JC says petulantly, but he sits on his hands anyway. "Does it look really bad?"

"Yes, you're hideous," says Justin dryly. "You're still squirming, C, just hold still already."

"Oh," JC squints at him, wondering if that's Justin's way of trying to make him feel better. He tugs Justin a little closer to his perch on top of the counter and wraps his arms and legs around him. "There ... now do your worst." Justin laughs lightly, and hopes Joey and Lance can hear. Lance especially. "So ... you wanna tell me whatthefuck while I freeze my hand off keeping your eye from swelling?"

JC winces, and this time not from the shock of the ice against his skin. "Well, you heard Lance; you heard the shit he was saying..."

"Why would he think that? I mean, other than the fact that you HAVE, in the past ... " Justin pulls the ice away for a moment, an cringes a little at the cut and the bruise.

JC's face falls slightly when he picks up on Justin's expression. "Cause he's a paranoid, possessive, delusional fuck?" he mutters, letting go of Justin's waist.

Justin grabs one of JC's hands, places it on his waist. "Put those back," he says automatically as he puts the ice back on. "He's never hit you before. You telling me it was just, like, random, C?" "No," JC sulks, hooking his other hand in Justin's front pocket. "Apparently, he and Joey came to some 'understanding' the night you guys all ... whatever. And *apparently*, I wasn't prepared to accept that."

"What?" says Justin. "What are you TALKING about? Joey came after you and you said NO. Trust me ... I remember. What, he thinks it went further than that?" He pulls the ice away again, plants a soft kiss on the cut.

JC grins and chases Justin's lips with his own before he can pull back completely. "Not ... exactly," JC gets serious again. "I think that's the problem; I think he was pissed -- or embarrassed? -- that I said no. And so he told Lance that I ..." JC trails off, turning his cheek a little.

"Told Lance that you WHAT?" presses Justin. "Lance just doesn't go around HITTING people ... " Justin frowns a little, wondering just what JC's gotten himself into.

"APPARENTLY," JC sighs, facing Justin again, "*I* was the one that came on to JOEY, and JOEY said 'no' and left. And went and told Lance that I tried to ... seduce him."

"What a prick," mutters Justin. "It's not like you fucking led him on or another. Can't the guy take no for an answer?" Just remembers to bring the ice back up to JC's eye. "Guess he can't go around accusing you of THAT anymore, huh?" "Right," JC shifts uncomfortably and moves to drop his hands again before remembering that wouldn't make Justin happy. He struggles to remember the details of what HAD happened that night, with Joey, and ... he can't hide the fact that they had both been naked by the time JC stopped *anything*.

"How does the eye feel?" asks Justin, rubbing the small of JC's back a little with his free hand.

JC leans back into Justin's touch and gives him a grateful smile, both for the caress, and for not pressing him on whether or not he 'led Joey on.' "Better," he smiles bravely. "You're good at this TLC stuff."

"Yeah, well, with you around I kind of needed to become the expert," he says with a bit of a smile. "Look hold this to your face, okay? I'm going to go talk to Lance and get this whole thing straightened out, once and for all."

JC lets the ice fall to the ground as he grabs Justin's wrist instead. "No, wait, why?" he frowns and hops down off the counter. "I *told* him what happened, he just won't listen ..." Justin frowns, then grins a little. "Well, I think that me telling him to his face that you slept with ME last night is going to have a bit bigger of an impact," he says simply.

JC flushes. "OH. I thought ... I didn't think you wanted them to know ... that. Yet. Um." He runs his hand up Justin's arm a bit. "I don't want you go, though."

"Well, I think they kinda DO know, after what I shouted at them," admits Justin. "Look, why SHOULDN'T they know, right? If I want to BE with you ... they're kinda gonna notice ... " Justin kneels down to pick up the ice and brings it back up to JC's face.

"No, I know, I just didn't want you to have to say it before you were ready," JC mumbles, accepting the ice again. "God, fucking *Joey*, I can't *believe* this."

"You know what he's like," says Justin. "That's why I figure I should say something. I mean ... Lance might not believe you, but he KNOWS I wouldn't shit him, when it comes to sex ... "

"Well, right," JC says, walking Justin backwards until he has him pinned against the opposite counter. "But like you said, you already, um ... shared with them what we did last night. He's not going to listen to *reason*, or fucking *details*, right now."

"JC?" says Justin quietly. "Why are you trying to keep me from talking to him?" JC forces a smile on his face. "I'm not. I just want you here." He presses his hips against Justin's and traps him between his arms. "And I don't want you to make him mad, and have him hit *you*..."

Justin smiles. "That's sweet. I don't entirely BELIEVE you, but that's sweet. Now be careful not to turn me on ... I can't take care of your eye, then."

"That's the IDEA," JC whispers into his ear, but he holds still when he pulls back anyway. Justin doesn't really HAVE to believe him, as long as he doesn't push the issue. "I'm gonna look like refried dammit later, aren't I?"

"It's not pretty," admits Justin, "but you'll live. Have we stopped being honest with each other, JC?"

JC's shoulders slump a little, his reprieve obviously short-lived. "No. Why?"

Justin shrugs a little. "You just ... not telling me something. And I've tried being patient, figuring you'd get around to it, but ... "

"Like what?" JC frowns, making absolutely sure Justin really knows he's holding something back before he makes him worry needlessly. And it *is* needlessly; JC has NO intentions of ever going near Joey like that again. Not after Justin. Justin shrugs. "I don't want to play games with you, JC. Lean forward. I want to check the swelling." He hands are rough now, not gentle like they were.

"Ow...what? I'm not ... OW!" He pulls back from Justin with a hurt look, cupping his hand to his own cheek. "What's the matter with you? If there's something you think I'm not telling you, maybe I have a good reason. Okay? Fuck, Justin." Justin blinks at him a couple of times. "I think I need to talk to Joey," is all he says before trying to push his way out of JC's arms.

"No," JC says firmly, leaning back into him, but all pretenses of seduction are dropped. "You don't. Just ... what. What is it?"

"What the fuck aren't you TELLING me?" asks Justin. "I believed you when you told me you said no to him. I BELIEVE you, JC. But what AM I missing here. What don't you want me to find out?"

JC drops his eyes and then leans his head down to rest on Justin's shoulder while he talks. "It's nothing, it's just ... look, you saw me, when I left him, right. Have you even -- I mean, I HOPE you didn't, but -- thought about what Joey and I were, um, doing? To get to that point?" Justin sighs a little. "No ... " he admits. "Not really ... guess I'm an idiot, huh ... "

JC smiles tenderly even though Justin can't see it. "No. You're not. And it's nothing you need to worry about NOW, either. I just ... didn't want Joey, or Lance for that matter, to get into it with you. Can you ... understand that?"

Justin nods a little. "You should have just said," he says, his voice a little flat. "No wonder Lance got so pissed."

Pulling back at Justin's tone, JC grasps his chin and looks at him. "Wait, what? Joey told Lance that *I* hit on HIM. That *I* didn't want HIM to leave. That *I* forced my tongue down HIS throat. THAT's why Lance is pissed. What's going on in your head, baby boy?"

Justin shrugs a little. "Look, hon, I BELIEVE you when you say that you aren't doing anything with Joey anymore. I trust you. But the shit you did before...even if Lance is wrong about it THIS time, there've been plenty of other times ... well, you know." JC straightens up and crosses his arms in front of his chest. "Maybe I don't know," he says a little coolly. "What's your point?" "Look," says Justin, "I'm NOT saying you deserved it. Lance was WAY outta control. But you HAVE to admit, you've made some mistakes."

"Is that so," JC grits out, jaw clenched. Speaking of not FUCKING being honest, he certainly *remembers* Justin saying he didn't hold JC's past against him...

"Calm the fuck down, JC," says Justin softly.

JC holds his hands up defensively. "I'm calm," he says. "I'm just waiting to hear about these mistakes that I must owe Lance some retribution for, or some shit."

"I didn't say ANYthing about retribution," protests Justin. "I can just kinda understand why he might be mad. But, really, he should be mad at JOEY, you know?"

"Yeah, I'm well aware who he should be mad at," JC tells him, grabbing the washcloth out of Justin's hands and tossing it in the sink. "Thanks for helping with my eye," he says after a moment, touching the skin gingerly. "I'll be right back."

"JC," says Justin. "Where are you going ... ?"

"Painkillers," he throws back over his shoulder and walking back out of the kitchen, part of him hoping Joey and Lance are long gone, but another part of him really wanting them to still be there. "JC," Justin calls after him, then sighs and flops back against the counter. It fucking HURTS, loving JC the way he does, sometimes. When he's pulling shit like this. When he just CAN'T acknowledge what he's done, and get past it.

Of course, for JC, 'painkillers' translates to 'shots,' and so he settles down at the bar, Joey and Lance having obviously decided to take *their* argument elsewhere. At least Joey was kind enough to put the bottle of Jack they had started on last night behind the counter, and JC grabs it and uncaps it and takes a swig. Justin waits for a few minutes, but JC doesn't return. In fact, he can't even hear him anymore. With another heavy sigh, he leaves the kitchen and goes off looking for him. He should have known where he would be. "C," he says quietly, getting his attention.

"Oh, hey," JC says mildly, holding the bottle up as in offering. "Want one?"

Justin pauses, then actually nods. "Yeah, I could use a drink. In a glass, though." "Well, of course," JC says in that same voice, leaning over the bar with practiced ease and grabbing a tumbler. He sets it on the counter and holds the bottle upright for a couple seconds, then slides the glass down to Justin. "So." "So," echoes Justin, sipping the drink. "Can I just remind you of one thing, before you get blitzed?"

"Sure," JC says easily, watching Justin taste the whiskey. "You have plenty of time before that happens to do whatever you want." Justin nods. "I love you." Then he sips his drink again, calmly. That's still such a new thing for JC to hear that it makes him stop whatever he's doing when Justin tells him. He puts down the bottle and rests his elbow on the bar, his unbruised cheek in his fist. "Thank you."

Justin just nods and sips his drink. "I thought we were done with the running, too," he comments, not -- quite -- looking at JC. The alcohol is bitter, but sometimes he just needs a drink, too.

"Is that what you think I'm doing?" JC asks him, still looking at Justin intently. He really *wasn't* running away, he just ... worried, when things like this came up, and he *knew* he always dug himself into a bigger hole, and everything HAD been too good between him and Justin to risk that again just yet. "Why?"

"Well ... yeah!" says Justin. "I mean, what ELSE could you possibly be doing when you won't tell me something, leave the room and head for a drink?" He sighs and sips his own again, taking pains not to just throw it back. "Wouldn't it just have been fucking easier just to TELL me what you were worried about and have me nod my head and say okay than to go through THIS every time?"

JC grips the edge of the counter tightly, the bottle still within reach but ignored for the moment. "I DID tell you, Justin -- I told you what you wanted to know, and you *didn't* nod your head and say 'okay.' You fucking sided with *Lance*! And that's just..." He stops and frowns, picking at the hem of his pants. "My face hurts, okay? Lay off, a little."

"I DIDN'T side with Lance, and you know that, so stop trying to pick a fight," mutters Justin. "And I had to fight to get it out of you, so I was already a little pissed off. What's it gonna take to get you to understand that you can TELL me things, and I'm not fucking going anywhere?" He reaches his hand up, touches JC's face gently. "You should've left the ice on."

JC leans into the touch even though that slight pressure is almost too painful. "You said you understood why Lance was mad, that he deserved to be," JC tries to explain. "I can read between the lines, I know what you MEANT by that. And if you're wondering why I don't tell you stuff like that, stuff I KNOW you want to judge me for ... well, that's why. I'm already a disappointment to you; I don't need more reminders." He pauses and nuzzles against Justin's hand before continuing softly. "I'm not picking a fight." "Don't you tell me what I mean when I say things," says Justin, stroking JC's face with his thumb. "You don't know. I DO think Lance has a right to be mad at Joey and at you for what you've done. I sure as hell would be, if I were him. He DIDN'T have a right to hit you, though, and he DIDN'T have the right to jump to conclusions about last night, no matter what Joey says. Because he should know as well as you or I do that Joey makes shit up to cover his ass. That's not me judging you, and you're not a disappointment to me." He picks up the remainder of his drink with his other hand and drains it, his eyes never leaving JC's.

Watching with slight surprise when Justin throws back the rest of his drink, JC turns his head and captures Justin's thumb gently between his teeth. "Don't lie," he tells him softly. "I may not know what you mean when you say things, but I'm starting to know what you're feeling when I look at you. And you *were* disappointed."

"I'm not lying," says Justin, moaning softly. "I'm worried about you and I'm worried about me and I'm worried about THEM, but I'm not disappointed in you. YOU were the one to say no, JC, and I haven't forgotten that. No matter how far you ... you let it get, before you did. I don't expect miracles from our relationship. Despite my fantasies, I AM a realist, you know." He closes his eyes as JC licks the pad of his thumb. "I need another drink," he whispers.

JC frowns and lets Justin's thumb slip from between he lips. He knows what *he* means when he says that, and it's usually that he'd rather be anywhere other than where he was. "Well, the bottle's right there," JC tells him, absolutely unconcerned about being that kind of enabler, but frightened that Justin was more worried than he even admitted if he was drinking like that. "And I thought we weren't putting labels on this."

Justin doesn't reach for the bottle himself. If JC isn't pouring, he doesn't need it THAT badly. "Who's putting labels on anything?" he asks instead, still cupping JC's cheek tenderly. "Don't be so uptight about that JC. It's like you're LOOKING for things to get worried about."

"Sorry," JC mutters, grabbing the bottle and raising it to his own lips again, wondering when Justin decided that JC's fears and uncertainties about a 'relationship' became so easily brushed aside. He puts the bottle back on the counter without refilling Justin's glass, then lays his head down next to it, wrenching his face out from the other man's hand. "I don't have to make up things to get worried about," he says slowly. "I know you'll find a way to let me know every time I do something wrong."

"JC, just STOP," says Justin. "Just STOP this. You're taking it all out on me and it's not fair. I HAVEN'T been laying into you, and you'd know that if you'd take two seconds to think about it." He sighs and turns away, feeling rejected. "Look, I'll just fucking back off, all right? God. Every time I think maybe you want ME around, too, you remind me that I'm just a pain in the ass ... "

JC stares at Justin's profile for a minute. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way," he murmurs, swallowing his pride a little, knowing he isn't really being fair. Even if he was reading a lot into Justin's expressions in the kitchen, he really hadn't SAID anything to indicate that what had happened between him and Joey was bothering him THAT much. "I always want you around. I'm just ... sorry you have to worry about me."

"Just ... don't spend so much time being upset over that, okay?" says Justin, turning his head to look at him. "I made a choice to be with you, and to worry about you and to take care of you. It was MY choice. So don't be sorry for it, okay? Yeah, sure, there's stuff you've done that I'm not happy about ... but I'm not going to, like, FIXATE on that. There's other stuff to fixate on that's way more fun ... "

Chuckling, JC picks the whiskey back up and pours Justin another generous glass, capping it before he has any himself, and puts it away. "I'm coming back to what that other stuff might be in a second," he warns him, then reaches out to take his hand again and puts it back on his face, right beside the bruise. "But I have to ask ... even if you made the choice to worry about me, it's ... that doesn't explain why you're worried about YOU, right now."

Justin nods and bites his lip a little. "Okay, that's fair," he says, taking his drink gratefully. "Since we're being honest ... I feel like maybe I'm in over my head a little. And that doesn't mean I'm GOING anywhere, just that I need to worry about myself a little. I had a lot of stuff heaped on me at once, you know, and I know that was my CHOICE, but that doesn't make it EASY." Justin hopes that makes sense to JC, that it doesn't make him feel like Justin is regretting his decision, because he's NOT. JC wonders if Justin's even aware of how much that applies to HIM, too ... maybe nothing *quite* as drastic as losing his virginity, but trying to be 'with' someone, and having them say they loved him -- these were just as new and overwhelming for JC. "I'm worrying about you, too, Justin," JC insists. "As much as you'll let me, I am." He turns his head slightly and presses a soft kiss to Justin's wrist. "In over your head, though? Do you ... do we need to slow down?"

Justin shakes his head. "It's a little late for that now, anyway, even if I'd wanted to. Which I don't, not really. I'm really liking what we have going, JC. The fights and the sniping are a bit stressful ... but it's still worth it." He isn't sure he's prepared to really deal with how deep his feelings for JC run, though. Not until he's sure that JC's in the same place he is ... and that might not EVER happen. So he just exposes the surface of them -- enough so that they're both aware they're there -- and lets the rest of it lie.

"You should stop pissing me off, and everything'll be great," JC tells him with a cheeky grin, beyond relieved that Justin doesn't want to take back anything that's happened so far. He even leans over and gives Justin a kiss -- something he *still* doesn't initiate that often, unless he's trying to distract Justin from something he's thinking or saying -- and his blood rushes a little faster at the taste of whiskey on his tongue. "Thank you," he murmurs then, into his mouth, remembering what he had been sitting at the bar and trying to get up the balls to say in the first place before Justin came and found him. "For believing me so much that you even stuck up for me, in front of Lance."

"You made me a promise," says Justin softly, "and I trust you." He kisses him back one last time before backing away a little again, a small smile on his face. "And at least Joey and Lance know about us know. That's two down, one to go." He grins at JC, then, a little proud of himSELF for shouting what he had, and for being willing to go back and say it again, in firmer and even MORE blunt, convincing words.

"I can't believe you said that, by the way..." JC slides down off his bar stool and clambors up into Justin's lap. "We should be really fucking ostentatious about making out in front of them, too," he growls softly then, playing with the other man's collar. Normally he wouldn't even consider doing something like that, risk what people might think about him being seen and considered as half of a couple. But he remembers what Justin told him earlier about wanting Joey to *know* it, and after what just happened, JC does too.

Justin wraps his arms around him and keeps grinning. "I really want to get up in his face about it, JC. He's been an ass ... it'll burn him to know that you've got something to keep you happy, that you don't NEED him like he needs you." He nibbles on JC's ear a little. "I almost hope they walk in ... right now ... " This is the JC he wants to see more often, the one that isn't shy about his desire for him, but isn't pushy about it either. That just acts like he's WITH him and damn the consequences.

"You're such a show-off, baby boy," JC teases him, wondering just how far this can go with him straddling Justin on the narrow bar stool, and all of a sudden *really* wanting to find out. He throws his head back when Justin's teeth close over his ear, and moans softly -- realizing that he's *definitely* turned on and probably most of it has to do with Justin showing pride at wanting to be seen with HIM.

"Maybe," admits Justin, still nibbling at his ear and throat. "I like to show you off. Do you like to show ME off?" The last question is asked a little nervously, though he doesn't mean it to be. After all, right now, he has NO reason to question JC's desire to be with him. His hands, previously around JC's back, move down to clutch his ass, both giving him better support and better leverage to grind against him a little.

JC flushes again when he feels the heat from Justin's hands through his pants, and tries to hold still. He remembers what Justin had said, about the fighting and the fucking, and doesn't want him to think that's the only stuff they do. "It was MY idea," JC tells him when he can find his voice. "All the showing off. So apparently I'm worse."

"Good," says Justin. "At least it's not all me." He finds JC's lips, then, and kisses him thoroughly, massaging JC's ass with his hands. "I'm kinda hoping they DON'T come in now ... " He whispers. "Or ... if they do ... they don't stay for the show ... "

Leaning back against the counter slightly, still perched on Justin's thighs, JC tilts his hips and feels the other man's erection trapped underneath his groin. "What?" he breathes, his eyes heavy-lidded with lust already. "You mean you wanna ...?" He stretches one arm out along the top of the bar and starts toying with the button of Justin's shirt with the other.

"Do you KNOW how much you turn me on now?" asks Justin, his voice low, his hands still moving. "I TOLD you this would be an addiction." He licks the corner of JC's mouth, then kisses him hungrily again. "You do crazy things to me." His eyes drift shut, then, as JC starts taking over.

"Yeah?" JC breathes, unbuttoning Justin's shirt halfway and sliding his hand inside, tracing around a nipple delicately. "Crazy things? Like what?" He lets his head fall back again, resting more weight on the counter, using it as a foundation so he can shift his hips and wrap a leg behind Justin's ass.

"Like THAT!" breathes Justin, arching toward him, gripping JC firmly on his lap. The edges of their erections grind together as JC shifts, and he hisses as the sudden sensation rocks him. "Like making my brain short out. Fuck. Can we do it now?"

JC just nods, arching his own back when Justin pulls him closer down against him. He starts plucking at Justin's nipple, feeling the tight flesh there, before tugging roughly down on the placket of the shirt and making the rest of the buttons pop off. "How the FUCK are you managing to stay on that stool?" JC grunts, pushing the ruined material off of Justin's shoulder.

"A decade of dancing gives you pretty good balance," he replies with a grin, right after gasping as his shirt flies open. "Gotta be good for something, right?" He can only use his hands to knead the flesh of JC's cheeks though -- if he tries anything else, they'll both go tumbling to the floor. "How are we going to do this?" he breathes.

Flexing his stomach muscles, JC brings his other leg up and around Justin's back. "This part was your idea," he purrs, pushing against Justin's shoulder even as he pulls his body closer with his legs, rubbing his cock along Justin's torso teasingly. "Just watch the swollen cheek, huh?"

"Uh huh," mumbles Justin, his cock nestled between the cheeks of JC's ass now, with only the fabric of their pants separating them. "Uh ... should I remind you right now I've only had sex, like, twice?" he says helplessly. "If you leave it up to me, we're going to rub against one another until we come in our pants .. " Which, right at that moment, isn't such a bad idea at all. But probably not what JC has in mind.

"Three times," JC corrects him idly, moving his other arm onto the bar too, reaching back further behind his own body with both, still baring his neck to Justin. "And we should at least be naked." He rocks his hips, relishing in the sensation of having Justin's tight abs pressing into his erection, and Justin's cock in turn coccooning him from behind. "Or mostly naked ... depends on how bad you want to be."

"Frankly," gasps Justin, "there's very little of us those other two haven't seen." But he doesn't want JC to get off of him, doesn't want to lose this burning contact, and he'll have to do that if they take their clothes off. But then ... he wants to be naked. Wants to feel JC fucking him again, maybe ... and really wants him to take charge here. He's TOTALLY out of his element.

"Answers *that* question," JC smiles, tugging his own shirt over his head and tossing it behind the bar. He arches an eyebrow as he starts rubbing their bare chests together, still squirming in Justin's lap. "I'm not fucking you on this stool," he tells Justin bluntly, starting to work on his pants, letting his fingers brush against Justin's cock 'accidently' ... frequently and possessively. "You're good, but you're not *that* good."

"Where then?" asks Justin between the kisses he's placing on JC's neck and shoulders. "I'm already familiar ... with the floor behind the bar ... " He lets go of JC one arm at a time as he manages to get his own shirt off, moaning each time JC brushes against his cock. "You gonna fuck me?" he asks hopefully.

"You want it, baby boy?" JC asks him in a deep voice, pushing Justin's pants as low on his hips as he can reach. HE wants it too -- he can feel his cock drooling at the memory of being in this same position earlier that day, riding Justin's dick -- but Justin sounds adorably needy, and his ass is still tender. "I'll give it to you; I'll fuck your brains out. But not on the floor." He leans forward again, his weight shifting dangerously, and wraps his hand around Justin's erection. "I'm gonna do you on the bar."

Justin squeezes his eyes shut, bites down on his torn lip, oblivious to the pain. "God, yes," he says when he has himself under control again, thrusting up carefully into JC's hand. "Oh, fuck, JC ... just do me, just TAKE me." He knows how desperate he sounds, but he WANTS it, the memory of what they've done so far still fresh in his mind. He wants it again and again now, as much as JC will give him.

JC lets Justin fuck his hand for a moment before letting go. He waits for Justin to open his eyes again, to look at him, before spreading his arms on the counter behind him and pulling himself up on top of it. Spreading his thighs invitingly, he hooks one foot around the leg of Justin's stool and drags it closer to him. "You coming?" he smirks, rubbing his hand along his own cock desperately as his other fingers work at his fly.

"Not yet," teases Justin, finally getting up off the stool. He helps JC with his pants, stripping them off as fast as he can, then licks the head of JC's cock. "But soon ... I hope."

JC hisses when he feels Justin's wet tongue lapping at him, and grabs his hair. "You know what I meant," he growls. "Get the fuck up here before I get down THERE and just screw you up against the damn thing."

Justin grins and hoists himself up onto the bar, looming over JC predatorially. "Something wrong with getting you ready to fuck me?" he asks, then licks JC's lips.

"You just worry about *you*," JC tells him, not backing down, before his eyes fall on Justin's unfinished glass of whiskey. Sitting up on his knees, he grabs it and hands it to Justin as he starts tugging the other man's pants the rest of the way off and dropping them on the floor. "Drink that." Justin looks at him curiously, then takes the glass and tries to drink it as JC does things that make his body shiver. It takes less talent to balance on the bar as it does on the stool, so he's able to just let JC manipulate his body as he finishes off the drink. "Okay," JC breathes, taking the empty glass from him and throwing it on the floor, smiling a little at Justin's flinch when it shatters. He crawls closer to him, then, leaning over him, before sweeping his arm out and sending the half-full bottle crashing to the ground as well. "Feel that?" he says softly, letting a finger touch Justin's temple, the only contact between them. "Feel it up here?"

"Yeah," breathes Justin. He can do little but stare at JC in awe right now.

"And here?" JC asks, trailing that finger down Justin's face and letting it linger over his adam's apple. "Uh huh," Justin thinks he murmurs. He tries to reach up to take his glasses off, tries to get them out of the way so there's nothing left between them, but his arms are trapped by JC. "What about here?" JC whispers, tracing a path down the center of Justin's chest. He notes Justin's struggle and takes his glasses off with his other hand, placing them so gently on the stool that it doesn't seem like the same person. "Can you tell me what it feels like?" "No," admits Justin, because he can't. Something like this isn't supposed to be words, just feelings and flashing lights and music. "More."

JC's lips stretch into a thin smile. "No," he tells him, shaking his head. "Not THIS. I meant ... the whiskey. Can you feel it, burning your tongue and clouding your head, and heating up your ears and fingers and legs and dick?"

Justin nods, both turned on and saddened at the same time and JC traces the route of the liquor.

"That's what I feel, when I fuck you," JC tells him then, eyes darkening, forcing Justin backwards onto his back with just a hand on his chest. "Only a million times hotter." Justin sucks in a sharp breath as his guts clench. He's so fucking turned on he doesn't know if he's going to explode or IMplode. "Fuck me," he whispers desperately, trying to latch onto JC with his lets. If he was by himself, he would have been doing it already; this forplay is torture. And he loves it.

JC is turned on too; his cock harder, more engorged, than he ever remembers it being. He *wants* to just take Justin, just like he asked -- not waiting for a condom, not waiting to stretch him -- just raw and rough and RIGHT NOW. He shoves Justin's thighs further apart, grabbing his calves to keep him from trying to pull him closer just yet, staring at Justin's sex-and-alochol flushed body. Justin pants for breath and tries not to be intimidated by this, but his utter lack of control, where he'd had some just moments before. He's completely exposed to JC, completely vulnerable -- it's moments like this where he REALLY learns just how much he trusts him. Trusts him not to hurt him, not physically, but emotionally. And that's a trust they're both still working for.

JC thanks Justin, or god, or someone, that his pants were still within reach, and that what had happened that morning had scared him enough that he put a condom in his pocket just in case. With one more look at Justin, JC kneels back and starts moving away.

"No," moans Justin, surprising himself. "Come back."

"I'm right here," JC hushes him, putting what he hopes is a comforting hand on Justin's foot. "I had to get a condom, Just ... I mean, we just shouldn't ..."

"We already have," whispers Justin. "What does it matter, now?"

JC pauses in the middle of ripping the foil package open. "You know better than that."

Justin whimpers a little. "I want to know ... " he says. "It was so good before ... I want to know what it's like, from HERE ... "

Still hesitating, JC flushes more at the pleading in Justin's voice. "Just .. you won't even be able to tell until the end. It's ... we really need to use one ... " Justin sighs and just nods. JC probably knows what he's talking about. And so would he if he was thinking with something other than his dick.

Relieved and proud, JC can't help but be a little upset that Justin obviously wasn't *so* hot for him, like he was that morning, that he didn't insist. He sighs and rolls the condom on, careful not to let the lubricant drip everywhere, and leans back over Justin's prone body.

"Please fuck me," whispers Justin, wanting it any way he can get it. "God, JC, HARD! I want you."

"Hold on," JC warns him, positioning himself against Justin's tight hole, resting his hands on either side of Justin's head and gripping the edge of the bar.

"Now," moans Justin desperately, trying to grip both JC and the bar, then giving up and just clinging to JC. "Please!"

JC bites his lip and just drives into Justin, the impact forcing the younger man's shoulders up against JC's forearms and sending the back of his head off the end of the bar. Justin shouts something inarticulate and just continues to cling to him. "Fuck, yes," he gasps a moment later. "That's it exactly." And it is. Exactly what he wanted to feel.

Not letting himself be distracted by worries that the counter is too hard on Justin's spine like it is on his knees, JC keeps moving in a relentless, pounding rhythm. What he had done to Justin last night was leisurely compared to this, he muses, licking at Justin's arched neck and the underside of his chin.

And this, again, is something Justin's never been able to do for himself. Never had the strength or dexterity to do. He's never been pounded this hard, this relentlessly. He moans, loadly, and in the back of his mind realizes he's hearing footsteps and gasps, but those noises aren't important. The only things that are important are him and JC and coming.

JC does look up at the sounds, setting his jaw at Lance's expression of shock and the fury in Joey's face. He *keeps* watching them as he shoves even harder and deeper into Justin's body, panting from exertion and impact and stimulation.

Justin doesn't even open his eyes. "I love you," he whispers, hardly even aware that he's said it.

With that, JC bows his head and pulls almost all the way out of Justin before slamming into him three quick times in succession, coming violently but quietly. Justin cries out again, arching his back, pushing up against him. "Yessss," he hisses, his eyes blinking open to catch the expression on JC's face.

JC's eyes are closed tightly, and he's biting his lip in determination as he tries to keep thrusting, wanting the other men to see him make Justin come just from being fucked.

Justin's fingernails dig into JC's back as he explodes all over their stomachs. It's not unexpected -- he could feel his whole body clench right before it happened -- but the wave of ecstasy and relief that follows it is. He knows he moans again, and probably makes a bunch of other noises, until his orgasm subsides.

Grunting when he feels Justin's walls spasming around his hyper-sensitive cock, JC lifts his head again. He cups the back of Justin's neck and pulls him back onto the bar more securely, then kisses his forehead. "Get the fuck out," he says mildly, not even looking at his other groupmates.

Justin blinks at him, is about to ask 'what', then realizes he's not the one being spoken to. But he refuses to blush about it, realizing they're not alone. His attention is still focused on JC, and on the tender way he's protecting him now. He smiles shyly, and tilts his head up for a kiss.

JC smiles back, and actually *nuzzles* Justin's *nose* before kissing his lips. One of them has started bleeding again, and he wipes at it gently with the pad of his thumb. "Thanks," whispers Justin. And hopes JC realizes he's thanking him for a whole lot of things. He shifts his body slightly, suddenly realizing just how hard the bar is, but he doesnt' really want to move, either.

"Want me to let you up?" JC asks quietly, feeling Justin squirm and not sure whether he's uncomfortable, or hurt, or embarrassed.

"Not really," admits Justin. "I, um, kind of like you on top of me ... "

"But ... " JC frowns. "Your back ...?"

"Can take it," says Justin with a grin, leaning up to kiss him again, softly, carefully.

JC sucks on his lip, tonguing the split carefully and, he hopes, soothingly. He really can't stay inside Justin as long as he'd like, because of the condom, but he doesn't want Justin to panic if he moves, either.

Justin sees the conflict on JC's face. "You okay?" he asks. "You wanna ... go somewhere more comfortable ... ?" "I just ... I have to take this off," JC tells him regretfully, holding onto the base of it as he pulls out carefully. "We did the right thing, you know," he tells him.

Justin gives him half a smile and nods. "Yeah," he says with a sigh. "I know. I just ... I was about a half-second away from saying fuck it again, you know?"

"Promise me you won't make a habit of that," JC says softly, sliding off the bar and noticing that somewhere in the exchange Joey and Lance had finally left. "Not with me; not with ANYBODY."

"I'm not going to BE with anyone else," says Justin, his smile faltering. "You know that ... "

JC tosses the condom in the trash, not bothering to wrap it up, then hurries back to the bar. He grasps Justin's legs and swings them over the edge of the counter and ventures a smile of his own. "Not while I have you, no," he tells him, *remembering* how that conversation had gone sour before.

"I'm yours. Period," says Justin seriously. "I'm yours and I'm mine and that's it." He sits up and wraps his legs around JC, trapping him there, then smiles. "And that's how I want it to be, C."

"Well, goodness!" JC exclaims jokingly, running his hands along Justin's strong thighs. "I guess that's how it'll be, then. Baby boy has to get his way." "Damn straight," says Justin, still smiling. He feels comfortable right now. It doesn't quite make up for what they'd gone through earlier, JC's swelling bruise a vivid reminder of that, but it's enough. And they'd had sex and JC hadn't done anything yet to make it less than lovemaking, which was a wonderful thing.

JC grins back, then bends down a little to lick at the sticky mess drying on Justin's stomach. "I'm sorry," he says mildly. "What the HELL do you have to be sorry for?" laughs Justin as JC's tongue tickles his sensitive skin.

"I messed up," JC reminds him, lapping at the fine hairs below Justin's belly button. "Aren't you supposed to come first? I mean, I think I had the 'confident' and 'in control' parts down, but ..."

"Supposed to?" asks Justin. "What-thefuck-ever. That was amazing. Every time is amazing."

"But that's what you said you liked," JC reminds him, still smiling gently, kept warm by Justin's legs wrapped around him. "I'm just trying to live up to your expectations."

"I like a whole lot of things," says Justin softly. "Lif would be very boring if we did the same things all the time, right?"

JC shrugs and stretches up on his toes for a kiss. "I don't think you need to worry about that. You've had some pretty ... notable experiences, so far."

"Yeah," says Justin, tightening his legs around JC's body. "I think so, too."

"Hey, you okay?" JC asks when Justin doesn't kiss him. "Did I do something, again?" He'd been trying, really CONCENTRATING, on being supportive and tender with Justin this time. Maybe because of how ... NOT tender the sex had been. "I can't reach you," laughs Justin. "Lean forward, baby." He kisses his lips fondly, and almost wishes THIS is what Joey and Lance had seen.

JC kisses Justin back until the other man lets go. "But you're okay, right? I didn't ... hurt you?"

Jusitn IS a little sore, but in the best way. "I loved it, JC," he says. "It was perfect. It was -- " He laughs suddenly. " -- in front of Joey and Lance!"

"See?" JC slaps his hip gently. "You *do* get your way." He leans up for another kiss. "Think that proved your point to them?"

Justin blushes a little and nods. "They watched ... didn't they."

"Oh, Justin," JC sighs, remembering the somewhat painful memories Justin had about that exact thing. "It wasn't ... they weren't *watching*, like that. They just SAW. And they left; they left us alone."

"It's okay," says Justin. "They deserved what they saw, if they did. That was, um, really hot."

Even JC blushes a bit at that. "Yeah, they saw some ... stuff." He ducks his head. "I don't have to be rough like that, any more," he tells him hastily. "I think I was still mad, a little."

"JC? What part of 'I loved it' is confusing you, hon?"

Trying to push his way out of Justin's legs half-heartedly, JC gives Justin a sheepish look. "It's just ... I mean, you know I *can* be gentle, and smooth, if you'll ever let me?"

"When the time's right," says Justin, shrugging. "We'll have lots of chances. " "Okay," JC shrugs back, giving him a bit of a wary look. "Are you getting down? Be careful of all the ... glass."

Justin chuckles a bit, having forgotten about that entirely. "Help me down?" he says, holding his arms out like a child.

JC grins unselfconsciously and wraps his arms underneath Justin's legs. "You're getting a little big for this, baby boy," he tells him; joking, but not ... because he does remembering being able to carry him.

"So?" teases Justin. "Carry me to bed?"

"You're gonna kill me," JC protests, but picks him up anyway, because there had been a hint of a challenge. He leaves their clothes and the glass and the mess on the bar for someone else to deal with, some other time.

--------

JC figures this is probably one of the worst days he can ever remember having. He woke up to find a stack of morning papers, at least one article in each of them speculating about all the sordid details behind the bruise he was sporting on his face last week when they had to go to a premiere. Then Joey had cornered him in the kitchen AGAIN, pushing him up against the counter and threatening him that the next time they were alone, *JC* was gonna be the one getting his ass worked over on top of the bar, and Joey could promise he wouldn't be whispering 'I love you' to him, either. So JC had fled to the relative sanctuary of Justin's room, but that just reminded him of the *worst* part -- that Justin was gone all day, at some magazine function with Chris, and wouldn't be back until late. It was an all-too-familiar feeling, being alone and left to fend for himself, and so it was easy to fall back into all-too-familiar ways of coping. And since he had long since snuck his stash of liquor into Justin's room anyway, it made what he had to do that much easier.

Justin gives Chris an exasperated groan as he relates yet ANOTHER story of how Dani walked in on him going down on some guy. In their bedroom, this time. He wonders, without saying it aloud, just WHY she stayed with him. Of course, then Chris started in on the part where she joined them, and it all became clear. The limo would be pulling up to the house soon, and he couldn't remember ever wanting to be home quite so much. Especially since he had someone to come home to.

It had gotten to the point where JC was amusing himself by organizing the bottles in a row on the nightstand in various ways: by the amount of liquid (not much) left in all of them, by color, by alphabetical order when his eyes could focus enough to read the labels. But eventually he got too warm, and lazy, to be even that industrious ... so he put on some music, shoved all but one of the bottles back under the bed, and stripped to his boxer-briefs, wallowing in the fact that even the smell of the sheets made him lonely for Justin.

Justin shoves past Chris on his way inside, bodyguards watching from nearby, amused. He ignores the lewd comment Chris makes about what he's hot for, and burst into the house. "JC?" he calls out as he goes inside. Their relationship hasn't been secret since that day Lance had hit JC -- not from any of them, or the people who routinely came into the house -- and he turned out to be VERY thankful for that. He'd been right, though -- the teasing was merciless. "JC?" he calls out again when he doesn't get an answer, and heads for his -- their -- bedroom.

JC rolls over on the bed towards the sound of Justin's voice, grinning foolishly, before remembering he meant to brush his teeth before he got back. "Fuck," he mutters, his smile dropping a little, as he shoves the last bottle he had kept out to drink from into the drawer of the nightstand. Not that Justin won't *know*, and not that JC feels like he has to *hide* it, but it was just easier to avoid uncomfortable conversations if he kept up the pretenses. He runs a hand through his hair, turning down the music before calling back to Justin. "I'm in here."

Justin opens the door and peeks inside. "Hey," he says, smiling brightly. "We're back. Fina-fucking-ly." He closes the door behind him and heads for the bed and JC. "I missed you today! What have you been ... oh." The reek of alcohol is apparent even before he sits down. He should be used to that by now, but he still struggles with it every day. Still, nothing is going to get him down, not now that he's home and in bed with JC again.

JC had been holding out his arms for Justin to come climb into, but he drops them slowly at Justin's reaction. "I just ... was missing YOU," JC tells him, slurring slightly, pulling on the hem of his underwear, not sure if Justin wants to touch him. "I hate it when you're gone so long."

"Wish you could have come with us," murmurs Justin, reaching out to stroke down JC's chest, smiling at him. "But then again ... maybe it's good that you WEREN'T there. You know I can't keep my hands off you." He lets his other hand stroked down JC's side as he crawls onto the bed, still fully clothed. *Not gonna think about it, not gonna let it get in the way.*

"Me, too," JC tells him, struggling a little to make room for Justin on the bed but smiling at the contact he had been craving all day. Even so, his senses are so deadened by the alcohol right then that even Justin's palm against his bare chest feels like he's being touched through three layers of blankets. "Did Chris give you a hard time, again?"

Justin rolls his eyes. "Doesn't he ALWAYS?" he says. "But mostly he just babbled on about that Chuck guy that he did last night. Or did him. Or whatEVER. It's relationships like THAT that make me realize you and I are pretty damn normal, C." He runs his palm over JC's nipples teasingly, leans forward over him for his first kiss.

JC tilts his chin up but doesn't really part his lips, still worried about what Justin might say, or do, about the fact that JC had been drinking. A lot. Was drunk, actually. "I'm sorry," he murmurs. "That you had to listen to any of it...um, next time, just stay home with me. Okay? Okay, Justin?" And THAT way, Joey won't bug him, and Chris won't bug JUSTIN, and he won't have to be lonely and drink and be lonely some more.

Justin chuckles a little. "Yeah, I'd love to, but it's kind of our JOB, JC." He leans down for a kiss again. "What ... you don't want to kiss me?" he says, a little teasingly. "And here I thought you missed me."

"I did," JC breathes, closing his eyes. "And I do." He throws his arms heavily up around Justin's neck and presses their lips together gently, hoping desperately that Justin won't pull away. He has no idea what time it is, but if he's home then it must be late, which means it's okay for them to curl up under the covers together, kiss a little, and just go to sleep.

Justin forces JC's lips open as they kiss, and doesn't react to the taste. It's not like it's a surprise to him. His hands are still roaming, and one goes down to tug at the waistband of JC's boxers. "So whose turn is it?" he asks, grinning at him as he pulls away from the kiss.

JC arches his back a little bit, trying to press against Justin's hands -- knowing that Justin's caressing him, *knowing* that he's touching his hips, but still not able to FEEL it the way he wants to. "Don' be like that," he scolds Justin, hating it when he makes JC feel like Justin has some mental checklist of sexual experiences that he's just marking off as they go. "Don' say that."

"Sorry," says Justin contritely, pulling JC's boxers down his legs and tossing them aside. "I'm just ... you know ... do I get to fuck you, or do I get to have you fuck me?" he asks. He begins fondling JC's still-soft cock as he kisses him again, his own erection rubbing against JC's hip.

"Either way, you gotta get undressed," JC says against his lips, squirming slightly but *very* pleased that Justin seemed to miss JC as badly as JC missed him, and needs him and WANTS him as badly, too. Still... Justin's hand feels ... weird, where he's touching him; he's used to already being hard for Justin before his hot fingers start tugging on tight flesh, offering relief, but this ... He attributes it to the fact that Justin's known exactly how long he had to wait to see JC, and JC just has to catch up.

"Mmm," agrees Justin against his lips, then gets off him for just exactly as much time as it takes to yank all his clothes off and toss them aside. He brings his lips down to JC's soft cock when he returns; it's the first time he's been able to mouth it when it's soft, fit all of it into his warm mouth. He rubs himself up against JC again impatiently.

JC smiles at first, digging a hand into Justin's hair when he feels his wet lips on his dick and his persistent erection against his leg -- but that smile fades slowly and completely when JC doesn't really feel much ELSE. No growing harder and plumper in the hot suction of Justin's mouth, no tingling in his balls, no tell-tale dripping out of the tip of his cock. "Huh," he mumbles, brow furrowing.

Justin pulls back, frowns a little, then looks up at JC sadly. "Am I doing something wrong?" he asks softly. It's never been like this before, and he hopes to GOD that JC isn't sick of him already. Hopes that JC still finds him attractive, at least a little. Enough to get hard for him, anyway.

"No, I ... " JC frowns again, his head swimming when he picks it up to look down into his lap. A scary, frustrating, embarrassing, never-happened-to-him-before kind of possibility snakes its way into JC's alcohol-clouded brain, and he reaches for his limp dick abruptly. "No," he repeats under his breath, but now meaning something else entirely as he tries to stroke himself to any semblance of stiffness.

Justin reaches out to still JC's frantic hand. "Don't. Don't force it," he says with a sigh. "Is that it then?" He rests his cheek against JC's stomach, stroking his opposite hip lightly. He own cock is still painfully hard, but he tries to ignore it. He can take care of that later, after he figures out if JC still wants him or not.

"What? No," JC says, knocking Justin's hand away. Okay, so he wouldn't be able to fuck Justin, but Joey'd fucked him plenty of times when he wasn't turned on ahead of time, and it turned out okay. He spreads his thighs a little, still gripping himself, letting his other hand drift down between his legs. Of course ... that was when he just *wasn't* turned on, not ... COULDN'T be turned on. And having Justin fuck him was usually too good to risk trying it like this.

"JC," says Justin, louder, sighing again, taking hold of JC's hand and lacing their fingers so JC can't claw at his body, trying to turn himself on. A depressing notion is coming to mind. "JC," he repeats, quiet and tentative. "How much have you had to drink today, hon?"

"Some," JC says sullenly, tugging helplessly against Justin's grip. "I dunno. You were gone so long, and ... " He trails off before struggling with him some more. "Look, that's not it ... that doesn't ... just *give* it a fucking minute, okay?" JC can only wish that's all it will take.

"Just forget it," mutters Justin, scooting up the bed and throwing an arm over JC's chest, curling up against his side. His erection is obvious, but he hasn't said a word about it. "It happens sometimes, I guess, when you binge." He closes his eyes, presses a soft kiss against JC's shoulder, and tries -- really tries -- not to let the situation prey on his mind. The way JC drank it was bound to happen, sooner or later.

"I don' wanna forget it," JC tells him, turning under Justin's arm to lay on his side, sneaking a hand between Justin's legs. "I'm sorry that I ... that I'm not ... " He frowns. "You know it isn't you, right, Justin? You KNOW that?"

Justin nods; he DOES realize that now. Knows exactly what to blame for JC's inability to get it up for him. But that doesn't make him feel a whole lot better about it. Now that he's REALLY looking -- which he HADN'T been when he'd gotten home; he'd been too hot to get into bed with him -- he can see just how far gone JC is. "Look, you don't need to do that," he says impatiently at JC's clumsy attempt to get him off. "I can take care of it myself, later." In truth, letting a thoroughly plastered JC take care of his 'needs' was just entirely unappealing right now.

JC pulls his hand back, rebuffed, and bites his lip. Justin thankfully doesn't seem *mad*, but he appears to be thoroughly irritated. And not only that -- apparently he's going to *leave*, later, instead of staying in bed with JC, which is the only only ONLY thing he's wanted all day... "Take care of it now," he says softly -- only a little surprised he said what he was thinking out loud. "You don't me to touch you? Take care of it yourself, then, but do it here. Now."

"JC ... " says Justin softly. "Don't ... I mean, you know what ... that's *private*." All he can think of is how he felt when he realized Joey and Lance had watched him, how it was kinda hot, but he felt violated at the same time. It takes him a few moments before he realizes it WOULDN'T be the same with JC ... but, still. Fucking himself is something he does -- has ALWAYS done -- alone. "Why would you want that?" he does ask after a moment, genuinely curious.

"You've been gone all day," JC reminds him softly, both his ability and desire to hide his neediness nonexistent when he's had this much to drink. "I don't want you to get out of this bed until tomorrow. At the earliest. And since I'm basically useless right now ... I just want you to feel good. I know you can do that for yourself, so ... do it."

"Um, okay," says Justin softly, still curled against JC's body. He tries to shut the image of Joey and Lance watching him out of his mind as he trails his fingers along JC's chest. It may not be doing anything for JC, but it's calming *Justin* down to touch his body gently like that. "What should I ... what do you want to, um, see?" Now that JC's gotten Justin to at least tentatively agree to it -- to fucking himself in front of him -- he has no idea what to expect. He *knows* that Justin's idea of masturbation is like *light years* beyond anything he's ever done, so he can't even begin to know what to ask for. "What do you want to *do*?" he asks in reply, licking his lips. "What *would* you be doing, if I wasn't here?"

Justin actually has to think about that. He's pretty much STOPPED masturbating in the last week or so, since he and JC had started fucking, and it's not like he's forgotten how, but his first instinct isn't to think of creative ways to fuck himself, anymore. If JC wasn't here ... well, he knows he's in the mood to be fucked, at least. He'd probably be getting one of his toys out of the drawer ... if he was alone.

"JC?" he asks, "have you ever, like, looked at the stuff I have?" He says the word 'stuff' so that there can be no mistaking what he means by it. His toys. His SEX toys.

"Not ... really," JC murmurs, letting his hand drift back to Justin's cock, hoping just some innocent touching won't be unappreciated. He hasn't *looked* at it, like ... EXAMINED it ... but he's seen it -- hints of rubber and other materials when he's had to dig through Justin's nightstand for condoms or lube. He licks his lips again. "You don't have to make this, like, show-and-tell ... but you're not going to freak me out, either."

He moves into JC's hand as he touches him. "I just -- " This is DEFINITELY not something he's DISCUSSED with anyone before. Let alone made actual plans to show him. "I have this one, and .. it's, like, the same size as you, more or less. And I think that's what i want." It's the closest thing he's going to get to being fucked by JC tonight. And, despite not being the biggest, it's always been one of his favorites, anyway. The last time he'd simulated JC fucking him, it had been with a vodka bottle; he'd really like to have a better memory to replace that with.

"Oh," JC breathes, flushing with pleasure that Justin seems to want to make it about him, sort of ... and that he's made those sort of comparisons about size, too ... completely ignoring the somewhat absurd nature of the circumstances. "I'd like to ... see that."

Justin looks at him, sees the lust in his eyes if not in his body's reactions, but he doesn't know if it's enough. "I ... I don't know if I can do this," he admits. "It's not JUST about getting off ... there was always a lot more attached to it. It was my whole sex life, and believe it or not there were emotional things to. Things that happen in my head when I do that. I would get lost in it ... and I don't know if I can do that if I'm not alone."

JC will not -- will NOT -- say anything about how Justin DAMN sure better be able to do it in front of him if he could do it in front of Lance, and Joey ... even though he can't help but think it. "I don't want to force you," he says eventually. "But ... doesn't it *help* at all, that I'll be here? That I WANT to see you get lost in yourself?"

"I can get lost in YOU now," says Justin, still stroking his chest and stomach. "I don't WANT to forget you're here. And I'm ... scared that I might."

JC doesn't quite know what to say to that. "Well ... if you do, I guess that'll tell both of us something, huh?" He pauses, then continues hesitantly. "You can fuck me. You can fuck me instead, Just, and get lost in me that way." "No, wait," says Justin, touching JC's face. "You don't understand." He isn't sure how good reasoning or explanations will do when JC's in this state, but he needs to kind of fiigure this out for himself, too. "I don't want to do stuff with you when YOU can't, you know, do stuff," he says. "But if I do something myself...well, it'll be you that I'm imagining, but I might just not remember that you're THERE."

"Oh," JC nods a little. He can't decide whether to tell Justin that's OKAY, and he just wants to watch, and maybe learn something about how to pleasure him ... or whether he'd actually entertain suggestions about how they can make *sure* Justin doesn't forget JC is right there beside him. "That won't ... hurt my feelings, or anything," JC tells him, still not sure how to proceed.

Justin nods. "It's awkward, though," he admits. "I ... " He debates whether to tell JC or not, but reminds himself -- as he has so MANY times of the last while -- that if he expects JC to be honest with him, he has to do the same. "I'm scared that Lance and Joey ruined this for me. That because THEY watched that time ... I won't be comfortable with ANYone watching. That ... didn't make sense, did it." "No... it does," JC tries to reassure him. "Look, I don't ... KNOW that much about how you do ... that, but -- like your position, and stuff? -- but maybe you could ... I don't know. Lay on me, a little?" JC blushes, flustered. "Or put your head on my lap, or *something*."

Justin smiles a little. "I can try," he says, honestly. Because despite the disappointment, and the nervousness, he's still VERY turned on and VERY ready to do something about that. "Um ... that, uh, *thing*. It's beside you. In the drawer. Black leather bag. Would you ... mind?" Justin blushes a deep shade of red as he actually manages to ask that.

"Wait ... you want *me* to use it on you?" JC's voice practically squeaks with the question.

"Well, yes ... and no," says Justin, trying to gauge his reaction. "I mean, you don't have to, but ... um ... oh fuck this is too embarassing, Never mind, Okay? I'll, like, fuck myself on my hand, instead."

JC takes a breath and reaches a steadier hand out to cup Justin's chin. "Justin. It's *me*. You've seen me PUKE, you've seen me CRY, you've seen me come from nothing but a thirty-second handjob. Please don't be embarrassed." He looks down at his still-limp dick and winces. "Here. I'll get it."

"I mean ... I'll do it," says Justin. "It's just ... okay, this is kind of another fantasy here ... towards the end it gets, like, really hard to concentrate on thrusting. And I thought maybe ... but that's stupid. And I don't even know if this'll GET that far, if my fucking nerves don't calm down ... " His face is still red, and he can't, quite, look JC in the eye. Leaning forward abruptly, JC presses his lips against Justin's. "I'll do it," he says breathlessly, wondering how he can be so damn mentally turned on and his body just NOT responding. "Near the end, or whenever. You just tell me."

Justin nods slightly. "I want to try," he murmurs. And he does. And it's not just because JC asked him to. He just hopes he doesn't feel TOO strange, after. He KNOWS he won't, during; there'll be other things on his mind.

"Black leather bag, you said?" JC confirms, leaning over to the nightstand, trying to calm his own nerves and anticipation and residual frustration and embarrassment. He finds what he thinks Justin is looking for, and hands it to him curiously. Justin weighs it nervously in his hand, staring at the black bag instead of at JC. He can feel JC's eyes on him and wonders what they see. That same naive kid that he got involved with just a short time ago, who'd only ever masturbated? Or something more, now? And will that change, if he does this? He opens the bag, slides the toy -- *the dildo*, he tells himself. *What, can't you even think it?* -- out and runs a finger along it.

Trying to cover up the breath he sucked in when Justin pulled the dildo out, JC examines Justin's face closely. He really *doesn't* seem comfortable, and JC's at a loss as to how to handle it. He *should* tell him he doesn't have to do it ... but now, *seeing* what Justin will be using -- *inside* him! -- JC doesn't want to let this chance slip by.

Justin clears his throat. The embarassment STILL hasn't made his erection wilt, which, really, he has to take as a sign. "Can you see the resemblance?" he says, biting the bullet and just SHOWING the damn thing to JC already, chuckling softly. It's not like the two of them haven't been in far more awkward situations together, after all, and it's still SEX, and with JC, and maybe they should both stop defining sex so narrowly. "Well," JC arches an eyebrow. "Not at the moment." It's big: bigger than he thought it would be, and JC is a little floored by the way Justin insisted it wasn't the largest he used. He smiles, then, and leans over and rests his weight onto his elbow. "Do you need ... I mean, you want me to get some lube?"

Justin grins and nods. "I'm not THAT damn loose, C," he jokes, relaxing a little. "Despite my, um, *experience* in that area."

"I think you feel perfect," JC says solemnly, then blushes when he realizes that that, too, was outloud, and busys himself getting the lube from the drawer. Justin chuckles softly again and touches JC's back. The one thing -- the only thing -- he DOES appreciate about the alcohol is that it gets JC to say the things he normally wouldn't.

"Here," JC says shyly, pressing the tube into Justin's palm before leaning back on the bed. He isn't sure when, or how much, Justin wants him touching him -- he really wants to see as much of it as he can -- so he gives him what he hopes is an encouraging but somewhat distant smile.

Justin sets it on the bed with the dildo, laces his finger with JC's and lies on his back. He closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths. Underneath the nervousness, he thinks there might be a little excitement, about sharing this HUGE part of his life with JC. About it, maybe, being accepted as natural and normal and IMPORTANT to him. His hand trails over his own chest, pinches at one of his nipples eagerly. JC can feel himself squeezing Justin's fingers, sitting eagerly up on his elbow again to better see. He's almost surprising himself with how eager he is for this, and would feel guilty except that -- unlike Lance and Joey -- he's really not doing it for himself. He sees Justin's nipple harden instantly, and smiles.

Justin exhales softly and pinches the other nipple to equal hardness. He doesn't really NEED much in the way of foreplay right now, but suspects that JC might enjoy it. And, he admits to himself, it's something that he likes, anyway. Sure thing or not. He lets his fingers trail slowly, teasingly down his chest to tangle in the hair at the base of his cock, without touching his erection itself.

"You're gorgeous," JC tells him softly, remembering all too well how soft that kinky hair is, how it smells when he has his nose buried in it. In some ways, this is so much worse than when Justin had him tied up.

Justin purses his lips in a soft kiss that he lets go into the air between them. His face has a dreamy look on it as he starts to get lost in what he's doing. His one hand, though, still firmly clutches JC's. He lets his fingers trace up and down his cock without actually gripping it, running his thumb over the moist head. JC shifts a little on the bed beside him, watching with interest as the milky fluid starts seeping over the tip of Justin's dick. This, already, is different from how he usually jerks off -- tight and rough and hard and fast.

The Justin's hand slides down between his thighs without ever grasping his cock. He brings his knees up a little and lets his legs fall open, then slips his index finger in between his cheeks and traces the rim of his hole. He bits his lips a little and tries not to start moaning, not yet.

Stretching his neck a little, JC tries to see what Justin is doing to himself -- he knows, or he can GUESS, but he wants to SEE. But he's worried about letting go of Justin's hand to move to the foot of the bed, wanting him to hold on to him as long as he wants to. Justin pokes the tip of his finger inside himself and DOES gasp a little, bit, releasing his lip. He doesn't need lubricant to do that, hasn't in a long time, and decides to just slide his whole finger inside. His hand visibly sinks futher between his cheeks, and he moans. "Take glasses off," he tells JC, knowing that when he gets further into this he's going to knock them off anyway. He's broken three pairs that way.

JC *does* have to let go of Justin's hand to do that and keep his balance at the same time. "I like this bossy side," he whispers into Justin's ear as he leans over to remove the glasses. "Do I have permission to move so I can see better?"

"Yeah," whispers Justin back, still aware of JC beside him, watching him, breathing a little heavily, too. Justin brings his other hand down between his legs, too, when it's free, digging his nails into the inside of his thigh as he begins thrusting into himself with that single finger.

Placing the frames gently on the nightstand, JC manuevers around Justin's body to stretch out on his stomach at Justin's feet. Once he's settled he looks up again, and moans a little to see how easily, how smoothly, Justin's body is taking in the intrusion of his finger. Justin arches his back, parts his legs even further, and slides a second finger in without even breaking his rhythm. He hisses slighly but doesn't pause. He has a good sense of where JC is in relation to him, and reaches out blindly with a hand to gain some contact with him again.

"Fuck," JC mutters when he sees Justin take another finger, still without any lubricant. He's able to reach a hand up to grasp Justin's searching fingers, and has to fight to keep the other to himself.

Justin doesn't want to stretch himself any futher; he likes the sensation of the dildo stretching him as it goes in. And considering the number of times he's taken JC with little preparation this last week, this should be easy. He pulls his two fingers out reluctantly and squeezes JC's hand. "It's time," he whispers, groping for the dildo and the lubricant that should have been right beside him.

JC sits up slowly, playing with Justin's fingers. "What do you need me to do?" he says softly, unable to take his eyes off the pink entrance between Justin's legs. Justin feels embarassment creeping up on him again, and forces it away. "If you could ... put the lubricant on it?" he says shyly, licking his lips a little as he stares at JC's fuzzy form. Then, if JC does that, he can slide it right into himself, the way he's CRAVING it right now.

Eying the dildo a little warily, JC squeezes Justin's hand one more time before letting go. He picks it up tentatively, feeling its weight, and then turns his attention to the lubricant. IS he supposed to brace the thing between his knees while he coats it? Or try to do it one handed? It's not as obvious as what to do with his own dick. Shrugging, he pulls the cap off the lube with his teeth and spits it on the bed, then squeezes a generous amount directly onto the dildo. His lip is caught between his teeth in a look of almost comical concentration.

Justin fingers his hole a little bit as he waits, his muscles tight, his whole body waiting for release. His eyes are closed again and he doesn't notice the way JC fumbles, the way it's more than just inexperiences with artificial dicks. If he'd been looking close enough, he would have seen the way JC was still more than a little drunk. JC puts the lubricant back down on the bed then, and starts coating the toy with the cool substance. Once he's finished he wipes his hand on the bed, and grasps Justin's free hand. "Here," he says softly, pressing the dildo into his palm. "Um ... is that okay?"

Justin smiles in JC's direction. "Thank you," he whispers as he shifts on the bed, spreading his legs wider still, lifting his hips and placing the dildo in position. He wants to just drive it into himself, needs to feel FULL, but he pauses. Thinks that, maybe, JC wants to watch.

JC thinks that the whole thing just looks incredibly awkward, the way Justin has to concentrate on holding his hips up, the way he has to wrap his arm over his leg and twist his wrist... but as he moves back down to the foot of the bed, and sees Justin's biceps flexing, and his toes curling, and the dildo (so *big*, really) poised to just violate his body ... he figures he can get over how uncomfortable it appears.

Justin takes a deep breath, bites his lip, then slides it in in one smooth stroke. He exhales loudly, moaning, tilting his head back and squeezing his eyes shut. It DOES stretch him, more than he was expecting, really, and it feels absolutely right. He pants a few times, regaining control of himself, before he begins throwing pumping it inside himself. JC's jaw drops open a little as Justin just forces the thick object inside him, watching the skin around his hole stretch in protest. "Jesus, Justin," he says huskily, staring at the pale expanse of his neck, before shutting up again when he starts pumping with his hand. Justin lets out a series of moans now, with each thrust of his hand into his body. He's missed this, in a way, but at the same time it's *different* because JC's there. There, and a part of it. Suddenly, JC's presence is a HUGE turn-on, and he's closer to orgasm than he meant to be, at this point.

JC would give just about anything to go back in time right then, back to that morning, and dump all of his liquor down the drain. He WANTS to be turned on by this, he WANTS to cover Justin's hand with his own and pull that dildo out, and replace it with his own dick. But he's a fucking weak, weak man, and now all he can do is watch ... and hope Justin will do this for him again.

Justin thrusts a few more times, faster, harder, then has to let go as his hand starts to cramp. He whimpers a little bit and presses his hand against his thigh until it passes; he NEEDS to get back to it, he's starting to get close. With his other hand he starts to stroke his dick a little bit -- he hadn't really meant to at all, but he needs SOME stimulation right now, in these few moments where he's unable to thrust the dildo into his body.

JC wants to scream 'what the hell are you DOING?' when Justin abruptly lets go of the dildo, even if he does start to fondle his cock. After all of that, he knows *he* would never have the self-control to stop stimulating his prostate ... not after a build-up like that. He wonders if that's his cue to take over -- Justin had never actually *said* how he'd let him know ... "Justin," he breathes, stretching clumsy fingers to cover the hand he has resting on his thigh.

Justin's hand spasms against JC's and he winces a bit. "JC ... " He whispers frantically. "Help me ... please." He reaches out for the dildo but his hand spasms again and he's unable to do anything with it, and his other hand is useless for doing this. Wrong angle, not enough strength. "Oh God," he whispers, "I need to come ... "

"I know you do, baby boy," JC hushes him, biting his lip as he crawls on his knees between Justin's legs, marvelling at how Justin's body seems poised on the brink. He doesn't touch anything yet, though; he was watching *intently* and saw just how deep Justin would thrust the dildo into his body. He's just not sure how much force that requires, and how much is *too* much, and whether if he goes about it too tentatively Justin will get fed up with him and push him away ... "You need to tell me how ..."

"Just ... hard. Fast." Justin bites his lip; he has NO idea how to explain how to do this. He just DOES, has years of experience. "I just ... it's like finger-fucking, only bigger. And you've DONE that." He gasps a couple times. "JC ... you can't hurt me ... I'll talk to you ... just DO it. God .. please .. I'm begging ... "

JC whimpers a little himself at the raw need in Justin's voice, and grabs the base of the dildo before he loses his nerve. He braces his other hand gently on Justin's groin, the soft skin between his hipbone and public hair, and closes his eyes. The toy slides back out of Justin's body easily and smoothly, and the pressure and force against his hand when he shoves it back in up to the point that his knuckles press against Justin's ass is incredible. "Holy *fuck*."

Justin moans helplessly, gripping his cock but not stroking it anymore. "Thank you," he whispers hoarsely. "Yes. Again. Harder. It's okay ... feels good." He wants to feel it slamming into him, filling him, wants to feel like he's being fucked by someone as desperate to come as he is.

"Justin," JC mumbles, squeezing his hip and thrusting the dildo in farther, harder, and faster -- just like he was told. Part of him can't believe Justin's body is taking it, being able to actually *see* it up close, and the rest of him is just racing with how *angelic* he looks. "Oh, Justin ... is it me?" He desperately wants it to be, wants to know that Justin wasn't just giving him a line when he said JC was who he pictured when he did this.

Justin moans again, arching into JC's thrusts. "You," he confirms. "Gripping me ... fucking me ... hand on my waist ... one pinching my nipple -- " He reaches up, then, with his free hand and pinches his own nipple. " -- and you're moaning my name. Loud. You don't care who hears." What was once a fantasy, in that case, has now become reality. Neither of them has much concern about being loud any more. Which is just more fodder for teasing. "And you're just ... so ... fucking ... hot for me ... "

"*God*, Justin," JC does moan, doing exactly what Justin had described without intending or wanting to. His hand speeds up a little, and he varies the angle of his thrusts, trying to get *Justin* to be loud. "Will it make you come?" he growls. "Come for me, baby boy. I wanna watch."

"Oh, God," moans Justin. "Keep doing that." He starts thrusting back against him now and prays that won't make JC stop. "Oh, JC, I'm gonna, I'm gonna ... " He bites his lip, his face twisting in a combination of anticipation and ecstasy. He pinches his other nipple and squeezes his cock, still without stroking. "PLEASE, don't stop ... "

JC feels Justin's hips bucking underneath his hand and against his fist and has absolutely no intention of stopping until Justin makes him. Just like he has no intention of letting Justin wiggle out of doing this to *him*, sometime, somewhere. His lips part a little and he starts breathing heavier when he can actually *see* Justin's balls tightening. "I don't want to *ever* stop," he moans, wondering how vividly he'll be able to remember this in the morning, hoping it's being burned into his brain as permanently as it feels like it is.

Justin shouts as he comes, spilling over his tight fist. It's a powerful orgasm, almost more than the other times that he's done this. Maybe because JC was able to get a different angle for him. Maybe because JC was THERE. He reaches up with one hand, sweeps his hair away from his sweaty forehead. He's panting and moaning still, involuntarily, and he wants to say something to JC that isn't as banal as "Thank you," but nothing's coming to him, so he just smiles, for the moment.

JC just wants to hold him and kiss him and soothe his overexerted body, to do all the attentive post-coital cuddling Justin always clamors for but JC is often too preoccupied with his own recovery to do -- but he's scared to pull the dildo out before Justin says it's okay. Especially with his breathing still hard and noisy, the sounds still coming from his mouth. "Are you okay?" he asks softly, finally, trying to pull Justin's hand off his cock and sliding the dildo out an almost imperceptible amount. "Should I ...?"

Justin nods slightly and opens his eyes. "Yeah," he says softly. "On the floor ... there's a towel ... you can put it there." He unwraps his hand from his softening cock and laces his fingers with JC's again. This is the point where he always starts to think ... and that's not always a good thing. Right now he's just trying to process what he's just DONE.

JC tries to be gentle when he removes the dildo, and can't help but wince himself when he sees the brief flash of discomfort on Justin's face. He leans over and puts it where Justin had instructed, stretching so he doesn't have to let go of Justin's hand, and then slides slowly up beside him on the bed. "You're beautiful," he murmurs, feeling no inhibitions at the moment, brushing his fingers against Justin's jaw and eyebrows. "You're sexy, and amazing ... and I hope that when we do that for real, I'm as good to you as I am in your fantasy."

"You are," says Justin immediately, softly. "I was ... well, I was picturing it the way it really happens. Because I know, now." He blushes a little bit, partly from revealing that and partly because he just DID that. He could smack himself for his lack of self-control when he's horny, sometimes. He'd perfected not having to be with someone else -- until JC -- but he'd always done himself whenever the fuck he'd wanted it. But this ... this was different now. He'd USED JC, and suddenly he wasn't feeling so good about that.

Watching the pink spread across Justin's cheeks, JC smiles fondly. "Thank god for that," he tells him, leaning over to brush a light kiss across his lips. "'Cause, I mean, your ass is *way* too sweet to waste on a ... a toy, all the time." He grins cheekily and kisses him again, suddenly wide awake but still pleasantly buzzing. "Did I do okay, with that?"

"Well, yeah," says Justin and he has to smile a bit, remembering just HOW good JC has been. "But ... I shouldn't have asked. I mean, you're drunk and you weren't interested and I practically MADE you ... " That's not how it happened, but in Justin's head, that's exactly what he did. Used JC to get off. Came to JC when HE wanted it, and didn't care about what JC wanted.

The smile drops quickly from JC's face when he realizes what Justin's saying. "You ... what? But I thought ..." He was sure that this whole thing had been his idea, and that Justin had been treating it like something they were *sharing*, something different than what had happened with Lance and Joey. From what he's saying, it *was* different -- just *worse*: Justin had USED him, maybe not much differently than Joey always used him when he was drunk, to do the things that he couldn't or wouldn't do for himself. "It's okay," he says finally, resignedly -- surprised he hasn't fallen into his typical detachment yet.

"No, it's NOT okay," says Justin, his eyes tearing up. "I'm so sorry ... you don't deserve that. I should have just cuddled you like you wanted. It was just ... it was SO wonderful with you doing that ... and you seemed so willing ... and I didn't think about how it wasn't what YOU wanted. And I wasn't embarassed at all because it was just like being together. Oh, JC, I'm sorry, I'm SO sorry, please forgive me. Please? I was just so turned on by you and I wanted to do something about it and ... " He runs out of words, maybe realizing that he's begged enough, maybe accepting that JC CAN'T forgive him for this, not in his current state. Which was just another issue entirely.

"It's okay," JC repeats dully, resting his head on Justin's shoulder. He would have listened to Justin's words, and believed them, and loved hearing them -- about him not deserving to be used, about how much he was able to turn Justin on -- if not for the fact that Justin obviously felt like he was making JC do something against his will, and did it anyway. The fact that it *wasn't* against his will is not even the important part.

Justin rolls over and starts crying into the pillow, using it to muffle the sounds and soak up the tears. "I should have said no," he mumbles. "I should have fucking said no. I'm so sorry." He grips the pillow with both his arms, practically smothering himself, and starts sobbing. He hasn't been like this since the beginning of their relationship, and hopes it doesn't mean this is the end of it. All he knows is that JC HASN'T forgiven him, and that means he's done something very, very wrong. JC moves up against Justin's back again, somewhat unconsciously, not wanting Justin to make the rejection and feelings of worthlessness that JC has right now worse by refusing to touch him now that he's gotten what he wanted. "Is that all it was?" he asks in the same monotone, oblivious to or uncaring about Justin's tears when he feels like he's crying rivers inside himself. "Is that all *I* am?"

"No!" says Justin lifting his head, staring at him. "No! JC ... no! I just ... it's what I was scared of. It was all fun and we were into it and then ... I got all caught up in it, and I stopped thinking about how it was for you. I ... I never FORGOT you ... you were in my head the whole time, but ... I never once asked. JC, did YOU have fun? I should have asked. I should have payed more attention. I'm so sorry, I really am."

"Justin, it wasn't *about* that," JC says resignedly, his fingers itching to wipe away the other man's tears, but the effort seemingly too great. "It wasn't about what it was going to do to me, or for me. *Obviously*, since that's the reason we were there in the first place." He sighs and closes his eyes. "I enjoyed it. Of course I did. I loved seeing you do that to yourself, knowing you were thinking of me. I ... *don't* love the fact that *you* consider that using me."

"Well ... what am I supposed to think?" asks Justin. He runs a hand roughly over his face, smearing the tears. "I'm just ... we need to back up." He rolls over onto his back again, looking at JC who's still laying so very close. "I've ... that's always been something that I've done alone. You know? And ... I guess I've never thought of it as something that we can enjoy TOGETHER. But, I think maybe that's what happened?" His voice is tentative, as though hoping that JC would confirm that. "I don't WANT to think that I did something that selfish to you ... and I'm scared that I did. It was so wonderful, though ... "

JC had thought that it was, too, but he's not about to say that now. "Look," he says softly. "I just need to hear that you didn't INTENTIONALLY use me. That you weren't laying there thinking 'wow, now that I've actually got him *here*, instead of just in my head, he can help me get off.' I don't ... fuck, Justin, you should *know* what that would do to me. You gave me *so* much shit about letting Joey do it." He rolls over and tries to sit up. "It's not what I was thinking, until you put the thought in my head."

"I'm scared of being like him," admits Justin softly. "I want so much to be more to you. You mean SO fucking much to me. You know that. Do you ... even think I'm capable of doing that? Intentionally?" Suddenly, Justin is afraid that he does. Afraid that he's not the person that he though he was. "I was lying there," he adds quietly, "wishing that I was getting the real thing. From you. But -- " He gives JC a tentative smile. " -- what we did was ... fun."

JC's head swims predictably when he manages to sit upright, and he knocks several things -- including Justin's glasses -- off the nightstand as he gropes for the Advil. "Like I said, I *never* would have thought it. Until you told me you thought you MADE me do *anything*." He swallows three or four pills dry, and then rests his hands on his knees, in some sort of purgatory between bed wth Justin and ... just being someplace else. "And ... I'm sorry I couldn't service you the way you *really* wanted. I'll keep that in mind next time, when you want the 'real thing'."

"JC," says Justin, wincing. "Don't do this. Please." When he's rejoicing in the honesty that JC shows when he's drunk, he usually forgets about the bitterness and self-loathing that comes afterwards. Until it rears its ugly head, like now. "I was self-conscious and I was worried about you and I was ... I was wrong, okay? Just ... don't shut down on me now. Please." He gets himself together, reaches out for JC's body and hopes his touch will be appreciated. "Maybe I just couldn't imagine why anyone would want to share that with me, after all the teasing. After ... before. But I'm very glad you do."

"Of course I do," JC says after a moment, leaning back into Justin's gentle hand along his spine. "You don't even know how it made me feel, the first time you told me that it was me you thought about. Before anything between us even started. Do you?" He bites his lip and continues. "You WERE wrong. You were *so* wrong. This was *my* idea, and I loved doing it, being able to actually *see* you, and I was EVEN thinking that ... " JC stops. He's not going to embarrass himself by asking that now, not when Justin still has a chokehold on JC's emotions.

"Thinking that what?" Justin prompts him, still a little nervous about JC's reactions, though comforted that JC really HAD wanted to do that with him. That he hadn't done anything that JC hadn't wanted. That he WASN'T a prick who was just using him ... though, really, he had known that all along But he's so damn VULNERABLE after sex, he'll believe almost any notion that comes into his head. He runs his hand over JC's back, enjoying the feel of his warm, flushed, but dry skin.

"Nothing," JC says quietly, closing his eyes at Justin's touch. More than ever, he has no idea how to suggest that they share Justin's toys -- the whole conversation seems ludicrous given that they can't even look at each other right now. Plus ... part of what was great about what they just did is that JC *couldn't* focus on himself, *couldn't* be distracted by his own arousal. He doubts that would work if the roles were reversed. "Just nothing. Are you done making us doubt each other, for tonight at least?"

Justin is startled by the accustion. "That's ... not fair," he says weakly. He still wonders what JC was going to say, but somehow it feels wrong to push it right now. Feels wrong to say ANYthing that might set him off. "You about ready to pass out, hon?" he asks instead. Which isn't much better.

"No," JC whispers, although he's not sure whether he's responding to the comment or the question or both. "I'm not very tired, I ... I think I'm going to just ... " He trails off as he bends down to pick up his underwear from where Justin had tossed them in his earlier however ineffectual ardor. He grabs his jeans, then, and tugs them on, but leaves the rest of his clothes on the floor. He doesn't know *what* he feels like doing -- although he knows he *would* have stayed in bed if Justin hadn't phrased it like that. Maybe *because* he did, JC doesn't feel like drinking ... he knows that much. Maybe go outside on the balcony and treat himself to a cigarette ...

"You told me you wanted me to stay," whispers Justin, watching him sadly. "You said that was all you wanted." They've been through this routine so many times now, he can hardly even muster up the energy to repeat it. "Why do we have to do this? Why are you -- " He halts THAT question half-way through, because he already knows the answer. The fucking drinking, that's why. He can at least REASON with JC when he's sober -- when he's like this it's next to useless.

"I did," JC tells him. "I still do. You *should* stay. Here, just ... not with me. I need to actually get my head clear, for once." He digs around in the dresser, wondering if he had brought any cigarettes into Justin's room, before slamming it shut and turning to give Justin another look. "I think ... I think we're gonna be okay. I just need to remember why I'm doing this, and I won't think straight with you pouting at me."

"I thought you meant with you," says Justin, knowing that's what he DID mean, and wanting to remind him of it. "Do what you need to, JC," he says after an awkward moment of silence. "You know I'll be waiting for you when you're done. No matter what." He stretches out on the bed and just watches him, not wanting JC to forget he's here, and that he doesn't WANT him to go, but will let him, anyway.

JC nods and goes to leave, before slowly turning back around and approaching the bed again. "Can you just tell me one thing?" he asks quietly, bending down to kiss Justin's forehead before straightening up and backing away. "WOULD you have stayed with me, if I had asked? Well ... I mean, I guess I *did* ask, but ... if I hadn't offered to do ... that."

"Yes," says Justin with simple honesty. "You don't even need to ask that. I always want to stay with you, now." He reaches out for JC's hand; he doesn't think he can stop him now, but he craves at least that last bit of contact.

JC watches him, trying to reconcile those words with what he had said to start all of this: *I can take care of it later.* Before he wouldn't have doubted him; now he can't help but do that. "I'm ... I'll just be outside. I'm not going anywhere. If I don't see you ... sleep well." As an afterthought, he adds: "Baby boy," but starts walking away without touching him.

"JC," calls Justin after him softly, but it's too late. "I'm sorry," he repeats, not even sure what he's apologizing for this time. "I love you," he adds, as JC closes the door behind him.

---

JC took a deep breath at the doorway of his room, wondering if he'd let this part get to him as much if he weren't still a little drunk. He just ... *didn't* want to go in there, had been avoiding it since he had left Joey there over a week ago. He had even managed to get Justin to get changes of clothes for him. But he WANTED a cigarette, and couldn't find any behind the bar, and so just had to suck it up.

Justin sits up against the headboard of the bed, lifts the pillow he'd been hugging and places it in his lap. That ... did not go well. For a hell of a lot of reasons. Some of which -- he'll admit in the privacy of his own mind -- are his own fault. He's not secure in the relationship, doesn't trust enough, and tends to think the worst of JC at the most inopportune moments. But then, JC had been drunk. Which changes the rules.

Having rushed in and out like the room was full of poisonous gas, JC was able to take his time making his way to the balcony. It was a warm and pretty night; he couldn't help but wonder whether Justin had opened the window in their room, knowing how much JC liked to sleep like that. And then he just remembered that it wouldn't much matter, because he didn't plan on going back in there. Tonight, at least -- and maybe longer, if he didn't start feeling better about what transpired. He didn't really know when it had started. The drinking. It had been like one day JC was just a kid, they ALL had just been kids, and the next JC was an alcoholic, Joey was an ass, Lance a sarcastic pushover, Chris a seriously kinky jerk, and Justin ... Justin the one who tried to avoid it all and became a narcissitic bastard with a holier-than-thou attitude about it.

To be honest, JC had no clue *what* the fuck happened. It all started with him -- he KNEW that; if he had *ever* not been able to perform in bed before, those memories were lost to a blackout. As he took a drag on his first smoke of the evening, however, JC started to wonder if maybe it didn't start *before* that. Like ... with Justin just groping him within the first minute of his return home.

Justin'd thought about it a LOT over the last while. Thought if he recognized it and accepted it, then he could handle it. That they could make it work anyway. Ideally, though, they wouldn't even have STARTED anything until JC was clean. That was the plan. But that plan had been shot to hell and he was back to having to find some way to cope with it without shattering the admittedly fragile relationship. JC settled down in one of the old armchairs they left out on the balcony and threw a leg over the side. He didn't need to give himself a fucking play-by-play ... they'd both fucked up. What *really* burned him, though -- that had him too upset to drink, even -- was that he had made as conscious an effort as he could manage to do something unselfish and it just ... backfired. Like a sign that he shouldn't be thinking of anyone but himself.

He'd always known that both he and JC weren't ready. THIS -- moments like he was in right THEN -- were what he'd been trying to avoid by not dating anyone. By taking care of his own needs in every capacity and not letting anyone else have any kind of power over him. Was it worth it? Were the feelings he had, and the things he shared with JC, worth this? Was backing out even an OPTION, now?

Everything before Justin was easy, if not always happy. But easy: wake up, write, rehearse, drink, let Joey or Chris or whoever come in when they knocked. Easy. But *since* Justin ... JC sighed and lit another cigarette. He couldn't begin to characterize the past week. Justin was right about one thing: more often than not, it came down to fucking or fighting. Justin hugged the pillow a little bit again. If he couldn't have JC in his arms right now, he needed something. And suddenly, in a flash of insight, that was what it came down to. Even when he was doubting their relationship, questioning their motives, wondering how he was going to cope ... he wanted to have JC in his arms. Which meant, though, that he DID have to deal with the situation, and not just avoid it.

Fucking and fighting. The fucking ... was incredible. Justin could do things to JC that he bet he didn't even know he was doing. Physically, JC loved having handfuls of hot and horny 20-year-old young man when they'd start. *Psychologically*, though, even JC had enough self-awareness to keep acknowledging that what *really* made the sex great was the ego boost he got from a clingy and grateful 20-year-old kid when they'd finish.

Maybe love WAS enough. Enough to try, anyway. But fuck. It all came back to the drinking, really. The drinking that colored every single thing that JC did. And DID Justin have the strength to handle it, not as a friend, but as a partner? Or did he have the strength to DO something about it, for both their sakes. He shook his head. He hadn't set out to change JC; he was going to have to change himself.

The fighting ... JC sucked long and hard on his cigarette. He didn't remember most or all of them. They *would* fight, he knew that; sometimes over sex and he would get up and leave, and sometimes, it seemed, just so they could HAVE sex. There were always a lot of hasty words, but it was always that cliched hot flame that burned itself out. Which is what scared him about *this* fight -- it didn't seem over. Justin bit his nails a little. What he SHOULD have been doing, right then, was getting JC and talk to him about it. But he wasn't convinced that's what JC wanted. Nor was he convinced he was ready to do it himself, either. He had to stop letting JC get to him so much, had to start recognizing WHEN he was at that point of drunk where he was hurtful for hurtfullnesses sake, and not let it get to him so much.

They had both been calm when JC left ... really, except for some biting remarks on his behalf and tears on Justin's (both definitive of their fights, but WAY less than normal) they'd been calm the whole time. Recognizing, he thought, that the whole thing was a misunderstanding: but both being too worried about what it meant that the other could misunderstand HIM so much to let it go.

Justin sighs. He was just going to have to calm the fuck down. Not be so fucking needy. Take care of JC, learn to read him better and let THAT be a foundation for whatever was to come. JC couldn't be the one to give in, so Justin was going to have to bite the bullet and be the person he'd never thought he could. He had to, to make this work.

It was just that, for JC, having Justin was supposed to be the antithesis of everything he had before. Pure, sweet, devoted, selfless, strong, and considerate -- things that JC wanted to mean he wouldn't be lonely anymore. And it worked, to an extent ... the problems only arose when Justin acted human instead of the angel JC was setting him up to be. That decided, Justin needed to just relax a little bit. Take a bit of time to start feeling like himself again. He groped on the bedside table for his glasses, and realized with a bit of nervousness that they weren't there. He was practically blind without them. He groped on the floor, then, where he noted a blur of 'stuff' that shouldn't have been there. He came up with them a moment later but the frames were bent and one lens was smashed from where his alarm clock had fallen on them heavily. "Fuck," he said aloud, and dropped them with a groan. He had a spare pair ... somewhere ... but he was going to need help. Help he wasn't willing to ask for just yet. So he lay back on the pillows and closed his eyes.

Everything hinged on that, JC realized with a start. Tonight, Justin was maybe too aggressive, and definitely too scared. And JC overreacted. Other times ... he was jealous of Joey, or got pissed about what JC'd done in the past, and JC overreacted. Back in the beginning, even, the first time they were intimate: Justin was too emotional. And JC overreacted. Carefully, JC flicked his cigarette over the railing. Why the hell did he think anyone would be that perfect? He snuggled down in the bed, deciding that he needed to sleep, a little, JC or no JC. It had been a long fucking day, and THIS little complication on top of it wasn't doing his nerves any good at all. He'd said he would be here; maybe he just need to wait for JC to make the first move.

"I'm such a fucking asshole," JC muttered to himself then, curled up into a ball in the armchair. He didn't give much thought to *why* he might overreact so badly -- that the alcohol had the ability to completely corrode the barrier between what he felt and what he said -- but as he closed his eyes he at least vowed to work on it. To keep the little bit of heaven that Justin COULD be. Justin tossed and turned for a long time before finally sitting up and swearing softly to himself. He hadn't realized it until then, but he couldn't sleep without JC in his bed. He just COULDN'T. And that marked the biggest change in his life of all.

JC couldn't sleep either, but he wasn't necessarily trying. It had gotten a little chilly out on the balcony for not having a shirt on, and he eventually had a somewhat major panic attack about smoking when he knew he shouldn't, and so he had motivated to get back up and go inside and make some tea to try and soothe his throat. He took it back out onto the balcony, though, along with an afghan, and just stared at the stars while he sobered up.

Justin finally got out of the bed, put on a T-shirt and pair of sweats that hung low on his hip, and stumbled out of the room. He felt along the wall to the JC's room and opened the door. "JC?" he called out softly, but there was no lumpy form on the bed. He wasn't there. He groped his way into dark kitchen, then carefully into the living room. "JC?" he called again, quietly, hoping he was somewhere nearby.

In some ways, JC almost felt like he was in a trance. His body was more exhausted than he realized, and while he wasn't drunk or even buzzed anymore, his head felt thick. And his psyche hadn't completely recovered from being faced with the idea of Justin using him for anything, even though he knew that wasn't what happened, *wouldn't* be what happened. In that way, the blanket that he had pulled up to his chin and draped around his shoulders -- in a poor substitute for the way Justin's arms felt -- was more about security than warmth.

"JC?" calls Justin again, a little louder. When he gets no response he goes over to the front door. He stumbles over JC's shoes and falls heavily against the wall; well, at least he knows that JC is still HERE, somewhere. But it's dark and he can't see and he's starting to feel just a little bit of panic. He feels along the wall again on his way back into the living room. Where could he be? The bathroom? Someone else's bedroom? Maybe upstairs somewhere? He doesn't really want to be searching the house right now. CAN'T do it, really, in his current state. "JC!" he calls one last time, and hopes he doesn't wake the whole house up.

JC heard the dull thud of something hitting the wall, and swiveled around in the chair to look through the sliding glass doors to see who else would be up at that hour. He was able to make out Justin's stumbling form when he re-entered the living room, confirmed when he finally heard him calling his name. The slight note of nervousness in Justin's voice tugged at JC's heart, and he scrambled up out of the chair maybe a little quicker than he would have otherwise to open the door. "Justin," he whispered loudly, sticking his head in, "What are you *doing*?"

Justin felt his heart slow a little at the sound of JC's voice. "I'm looking for you," he whispered back, and began to move slowly and carefully toward the sound. "I couldn't sleep," he admitted as he walked. "Where ... where did you go, when you left me?"

"I was out here," JC told him, gesturing behind himself at the balcony. "Just ... sitting. It's warm. Or, it was." He watched Justin approach him tentatively. "Why couldn't you sleep?" he asked softly, then. "You had a long day, I know."

"You weren't there," said Justin quietly as he finally got close to JC. could actually make out his form rather than just following the sound of his voice. "I can't sleep without you anymore, JC," he told him quite frankly, not wanting to play games right now. "I miss you. I want you there with me."

"I couldn't sleep either," JC admitted softly, still leaning heavily against the glass door separating the two of them. He didn't know whether that had anything at all to do with the fact that he wasn't wrapped up in Justin, but he had his suspicions. "Did ... did you try opening the window?" JC had no idea whether Justin wanted to hear an apology, or just have him follow him back to his room, or what ... but he was going to wait and let the younger man make that move. He obviously had some purpose in mind, leaving his bed to stumble around in the dark, trying to find him.

"Come back with me, then," said Justin, reaching out his hand and hoping that JC would take it. "I don't want to spend the night without you, not anymore. And you know what? I don't fucking care how needy that sounds right now. We're never going to get what we want until we say, you know?" He wishes he could see JC's reactions, but that's not an option so he listens, tries to pick up not just on what he said, but on the sounds he made as he moved -- uncomfortably or not -- and the non-verbal things that came out of his mouth.

JC bit the inside of his cheek, considering that; amazed, again, at how strong Justin can be sometimes -- even when uncertainty is dominating his tone. "No," he said eventually, having grasped Justin's hands but tugging himself rather than letting Justin pull him back inside. "I don't ... will you come out here, with me, instead?" A smile crossed JC's face when Justin finally stepped close enough for the moonlight to reveal that he didn't have his glasses on. "If you can manage it without killing both of us," he whispered teasingly, using his other hand to touch the bridge of Justin's nose briefly.

"They're broken," whispered Justin sheepishly in explanation. "Don't let me fall, okay?" He stepped out onto the balcony and shivered slightly, glad he'd come looking in more than just a pair of boxer shorts, like he'd been about to do. "I want to be wherever you are, JC. Here or there, whichever."

"I wouldn't," JC said simply, grasping Justin's elbow instead and shutting the door behind them. "I missed you, too," he said finally, tugging a little on the hem of Justin's tee shirt before nudging him down into the chair. He pulled the blanket out from underneath him and wrapped it around his shoulders, and then dragged another chair over next to the one Justin occupied. "I missed you all day, and that's something you need to know."

Justin smiled a little bit. He was looking just to the side of JC, his eyes completely unfocused, still concentrating mostly on sound. "You were thinking about me all day?" he confirms, not doubting him, just wanting to hear it again. "I was thinking about you, too. Chris was being his normal self, which means half the time I was laughing and half the time I was just, like, really pissed off. I don't care about Chuck. I wanted to talk about YOU. Without, you know, being laughed at for 'finally getting my ass in gear and getting laid'." He shivers again and rubs his bare arms briskly. "Pull that tighter," JC mumbled as an aside, reaching over the arm of the chair to tuck the blanket down over Justin's arms and torso. "I *was* thinking about you all day," he confirmed as he leaned back in his own chair. "It wasn't ... a good day." He remembered all the other things that had contributed to him getting so drunk, and tried to force them right back out of his head. "So Chris was being a fuckwit, huh? Justin ..." JC paused and frowned a little. "Is it really bad? What they're saying to you, how they're acting?"

Justin snuggles further into the blanket. "It's not THAT bad," he says slowly. "It's no worse than it was before ... it's just different stuff. I guess I'm just still getting used to the idea that I'm NOT alone, myself, and so the stuff they say ... it gets to me." He shrugs a little. "It's no big deal," he assures him. "At least they don't act like I can't relate to what they're talking about, anymore. So how come YOUR day was bad, hon? What did you do while I was gone?" He suddenly feels very warm and very comfortable, just sitting here and TALKING to JC.

JC had to smile a little sadly at that, knowing that Justin knew exactly what he had done while he was gone. "I just spent the day missing you," he reiterated -- there was no reason Justin needed to know that Joey was still harrassing him, and he didn't really want to talk about the problem with the press and his bruise, since that publicity stuff tended to make Justin nervous. "Do they embarrass you?" he asked instead. "Do they give you more shit, 'cause it's me?"

"Well, you know, they were joking about me not starting small," he admitted with a bit of a grin. "But besides that, it's cool. Really. Well, Joey's a little pissy but fuck, I mean, he HAS a boyfriend. Maybe he should start thinking about treating him right, you know." He looked right at JC, then, even though between the darkness and the missing glasses he could barely make him out. "I really do want to hear about your day," he said. It was easy, when he tried, to hear the little hesitations in his voice, the ones that told him JC was leaving things out. "Honesty. Remember? You can talk to me about it ... "

"Justin," JC sighed, keeping his voice steady as he rested his elbows on the armrest between them and then laid his cheek on his own forearm. "You saw me when you got home. If it was bad enough for me to get like that, do you think I want to rehash it? It's nothing. Nothing you need to worry about, especially. Okay?" He ventured a hand out and touched Justin's nose again, trying to soften any blow Justin might take from those words. "Ask me something else, and I'll try your honesty thing."

Justin firmed his resolve that something has to be DONE, and the situation couldn't just be ignored. So he DIDN'T take offense at JC's words, and pushed one last time. "I was hoping," he said softly, "that if you talked about it with me -- if you felt like you COULD -- then next time, you WOULDN"T be like that, when I got home." If JC didn't answer this time, he'd let it go, for now, but JC also needed to know WHY Justin was asking, and that it wasn't just for small talk. Or for a test. Or for any other reason than that he wanted to make things better for them.

"I *do* feel like I can," JC insisted -- that really wasn't the problem. "It's just ... you *weren't* there, today, when maybe it would've helped to talk -- and I DON'T blame you, it's not your fault, so don't think THAT, either. Now it's just ... a little too late." He put his head down, again, trying to come up with *something* to appease Justin with -- something honest, but that wouldn't inevitably start a fight. "I think maybe I can't handle being alone that long, anymore. And I don't know how to *fix* that."

"I missed you lots, too," said Justin, "but ... how come you can't be alone, anymore? It's not ... I mean, that's not such a BAD thing, when you know I'm coming back and all. To be alone. Is it?" He touched JC's arm gently, not daring to reach for his face. "I don't always understand the way you think, C. You know that. Sometimes you need to explain things to me." He let the topic of what happened today go, the way he promised himself he would. But if JC brought it back up, it was fair game again.

JC had to laugh a little at that. "I think some of us" -- he looked up to point a finger at Justin -- "enjoy being alone more than others of us." His tone was light, and loving, and his eyes were bright. "I don't know, Justin. I don't know why I hate it so much. That's the one thing I could *never* understand about you, how you seemed to find this strength from being by yourself. I *still* don't, and sometimes I worry that one day you're going to remember why you needed all that time alone, and I'll be back where I started." This is the most open JC can ever remember being with Justin, the most vulnerable, and even he has to wonder how it happened without alcohol.

Justin grinned shyly. "Guilty as charged," he says. "I guess we're just different that way. Some people get more out of being alone, some people get more out of being with other people. But honestly, JC?" And Justin made sure that JC was looking at him when he spoke next. "I'm not going to decide that I don't want to be with you. If I want some time alone, I'll take a day or two. And then I'll come back to you. Okay?" He smiled then, and tried to let JC know -- FEEL -- that he was happy with him. And that yeah, things were really fucking rocky, but they'd both CHOSEN this, and they were where they wanted to be.

God -- a DAY or two. JC had to squeeze his eyes shut at that prospect, about how much damage he could do to himself in that amount of time. He opened his mouth to protest, and then shut it again, morosely feeling like if Justin couldn't get THAT from the combination of what he just said and how he looked after today, then he wasn't going to get it at all. Better not to think about it seriously. "Are conjugal visits part of this solitary confinement?" he leered then.

Justin laughed softly. "It's so sweet ... that you'd miss me that much," he said. "Of course I'd see you. And I wasn't thinking, like, TOMORROW, or something. Just, you know, later. When ... when we're both a little more secure." He reached out to squeeze JC's hand, then. "Right now, I really, really like spending all my time with you. I'm getting to know this whole new person that you don't parade around in front of just anyone. And I really like him, JC. I really do."

"I'm not *that* different, around you," JC protested then, embarrassed at being called 'sweet,' and wondering if he should be worried about showing too much of himself, too quickly. Beyond that ... what did it mean that Justin said he was in love with who he had always known JC to be, but only 'liked' the 'new' version? He twisted his fingers with Justin's, tugging on the blanket so that not too much of the other man's bare arm was exposed. "Am I?"

"Are you what?" asked Justin. "Sweet? Yes. Showing more of yourself to me? Yes. Sexy? Definitely yes." He grinned at him. "You're different enough around me that I see more of what's behind the person you show everyone else. But then, you've ALWAYS been different around me than around the other guys, or around strangers. You're ... less defensive, just a little. I think. Don't you think?"

"You didn't say anything about the sexy," JC blushed, ducking his head and fidgeting. God, since *when* did he get embarrassed like this? For fuck's sake. "And okay ... *maybe* I am less defensive around you, but, I mean ... you know why that is, right? I know you don't like being reminded of it, but I knew you when you were a kid. Like, *really* a kid; not an 'only-15-and-so-shouldn't-be-having-sex-with-Joey' kind of kid."

"I know you did," said Justin softly. "I just ... I guess I though maybe it was because you felt safer with me, than the others. Or something." He blushed himself, could feel the heat in his cheeks. "Can I ask you a question now, and have you answer honestly?" He didn't wait for JC's reply before going on, suspecting he would nod or something else that he would hardly be able to make out on this balcony. "Do you think I was stupid, for waiting as long as I did?"

JC froze, that question coming way out of left field; his mind was still stuck on how to explain that what he had just told Justin was why he had *always* been less defensive around him. Feeling safer, that's why he was less defensive *now* ... now that they were together, and he could be reasonably sure of him.

But that question ... god, it would take forever for him to sort out an honest response to it. "Justin ... just because it's a choice none of us made -- or even *would* make, if we had it to do over again --doesn't mean it's stupid. I thought you were feeling okay about the way things worked out?" He bit his lip, and reached for Justin's face. "Why are you even asking?"

Justin doesn't really see JC's hand approach, so he flinches when JC touches him but quickly reaches up to cover JC's hand before he can take it away. "I was just wondering," he says. "I've never had anyone answer that question with no teasing involved, before. I'M comfortable with it, though," he assures him. "I just wanted to know. And since you brought up you ... and Joey ... I figured it might be a good time." He shrugs a bit. "It's not really that important."

"What part isn't that important?" JC asked then, frowning at Justin's response, frowning at the way he seemed scared of contact, frowning at everything and trying not to let it affect the first real conversation he'd remembered having since any of it started. "And are you ... I mean, is your point that you think *I'm* stupid, for *not* waiting?"

Justin kisses the palm of JC's hand softly. "Of course not," he says. "I don't have an ulterior motive for asking. I was just interested in knowing. I dunno ... maybe I shouldn't have used the word stupid. Maybe I should have just asked, straight up, 'what did you think of the fact that I waited over 20 years to have sex, when I didn't have to?'. It's not, like, critical that you answer, you know," he adds, calmly. "It's just curiousity. It won't affect how I feel about things."

*WHAT things,* JC wanted to ask, more scared than reassured by that comment, but mollified somewhat by the feel of Justin's slightly chapped lips on his hand. "Well..." he started slowly. "You're still young. I forget that, 'cause, you know, I'm *old* ... I've been having sex for almost a decade. I gues THAT's what's weird about it: the gap, not that *you* waited. Does that make sense? I already told you I think you were strong to wait, and that the *only* problem I *ever* had with it was your insistence that you knew better than us about whether you'd enjoy it."

"That's not what I -- " began Justin, then took a deep breath and started over. He wasn't going to pick a fight, he wasn't going to let JC pick a fight and he wasn't going to let anything JC said get to him, not tonight. "I only meant that I knew better than you guys what *I* enjoyed, and that I knew better than you whether I was ready for it or not. I still believe that, you know. I never doubted that YOU enjoyed it, or thought that you were ready for it. Because that was YOUR decision, all of you, and I respected that." He kissed JC's hand again, mostly because it was there and because it felt nice against his lips. "I'm glad you're more experienced than me, though. It makes me feel like at least ONE of us knows what he's doing. And ... you know how to make me feel good. And I REALLY like THAT."

"I know what you meant, or thought you meant," JC told Justin then, looking up at him from under his eyelashes. "But you have to know that none of us would have said as much to you about it if you hadn't been so insistent that nothing about fucking another person would make it worth your while. Now ... after what you showed me tonight, I *get* that a little better, but ... still. Now that you *have* fucked another person -- experienced or not -- can't you understand why everyone would want to bring you down a notch or two for saying it?" JC felt a little like this was a conversation they'd had before in many costumes, and was grateful that Justin didn't seem any more intent on pursuing it, but wanted to make *his* last point on the matter.

Justin bristled a bit, let his hand drop. "Fine," he said, losing patience. Losing his resolve. "I wish I'd never asked. Can we go to bed now?" He let the blanket fall off his shoulders. He wanted to remind JC that he never would have HAD to insist so vehemently if it hadn't been four against one, if they hadn't been so fucking condescending about the whole thing. If he STILL hadn't been acting like they'd been right all along, and he'd deserved their scorn just because he'd stood up for his OWN beliefs. But he didn't.

JC's frown deepened, his head falling a little to the side without the support of Justin's hand. "You can do whatever you want," he said softly, then, suddenly not feeling any better than he had when Justin first came out on the balcony, but happy it wasn't because of something *he* overreacted to, this time. "I'm still not tired. And ... you know something, Justin?" he asked, almost whispering at that point. "You shouldn't ask questions like that if you think you might not like the answer. Or ... at least don't make the other person feel like they're risking everything if they're not honest when they *do* answer."

Justin sighed sadly. "JC, please don't do this. Do you KNOW how hurtful what you just said was?" He shook his head slightly. "I don't think you do. I don't think you would have said that if you did. At least ... I hope you wouldn't have."

"Which part?" JC asked honestly, warily, wondering whether he had really been insensitive about his response to Justin's question, or whether Justin was more upset about his apparent dismissal. "Take me down a notch?" echoed Justin at him. "Like I was somehow being an arrogant ass just because my opinion on something was different than yours? JC ... I was never any louder or any more stubborn about it than the rest of you. I just ... didn't agree with you. Actually, I still don't. I'm ready NOW, JC ... but I wasn't, then. And don't you think I'd know that better than anyone?"

"Yes," JC looked at Justin a little strangely. "Of course. I never said anything about whether you were ready or not, and it was never about a difference of opinion. It was you being so ... self-righteous and ... just *know-it-all*, when you didn't. Know." His face fell a little more. "Maybe I thought what we did together was more different than it really was, for you." "I don't understand what you mean by that," says Justin honestly. "JC ... I WASN'T self-righteous. I never said there was anything wrong with sex. I just said it wasn't something I wanted in my life, then. Sex and relationships. And you were all so pushy about it. I love you, JC, but you WERE. And ... I guess maybe that just made me MORE stubborn about it, from my side."

JC wasn't sure if Justin even realized when he said that, anymore. But even used casually, like it just was, hearing the words 'I love you' from him made JC ready to forgive almost anything. "Maybe you're right," he acknowledged with a shrug and the beginnings of a smile. HE remembers Justin saying he seriously doubted anyone could pleasure him as well as he could himself, but if Justin doesn't remember it that way...

"I'm not trying to be right," said Justin, shaking his head. "I'm just trying to talk about it, without fighting."

"We're NOT fighting," JC protested. "I thought we were doing good. I just ... was remembering things wrong, maybe. And self-righteous ... that's a little harsher than what I was trying to say. Okay? Okay, Justin?"

"Okay, not fighting ... but not calm, either," admits Justin.

"*I'm* calm," JC muttered, wrapping the blanket around Justin's body again. "I didn't mean to say anything hurtful, either, it's just ... you said be honest." Justin flinches for a second again. "Um, JC? Can you let me know when you're going to reach out for me?"

"What?" JC said softly, frozen in the middle of leaning back in his chair. "I was just ... it's only me. I thought you ... you told me you *wanted* me to touch you, when I wanted to?" Now *that* is something JC wouldn't be able to handle, if they had regressed past THAT part again.

Justin chuckled a bit. "No, I mean I can't SEE you, until you're right there. It's, like, giving me a heart attack, every time. I just want fair warning, not for you to stop touching me."

JC couldn't stop frowning. "But it's ONLY ME. Why is it scaring you?"

"Not scaring, just surprising," Justin assured him. "Like ... I think you're in one place and suddenly you're somewhere else."

Sighing, JC slumped back into his chair. "You want me to go get your glasses, or something?" "They're broken," Justin reminded him. "I don't know where my spare pair is. JC ... why are you sighing? What did I do?"

"Well, someone's gonna have to find them sooner or later," JC muttered. "And ... look, I'm sighing because you're apparently WAY less comfortable with me than I thought. It's just ... I thought it might be nice to sit out here, get out of the bedroom, but ... maybe we should just go inside."

"JC," said Justin. "You don't understand. I AM comfortable with you. WAY comfortable. You just ... okay, do you have ANY clue how blind I am? Seriously? All joking aside?"

"Yes," JC replied sullenly, still positive that Justin wouldn't flinch like that if he truly welcomed JC's touches. "I've seen your glasses. Don't ... " Jc was going to say 'don't use THAT as an excuse,' but they were still attempting this 'not-fighting' business.

"Yeah, but do you understand what that's like?" Justin took the initiative then, reached out and touched JC. "You'd flinch if I did this -- " Suddenly Justin reached up and clapped his hands in front of JC's nose, luckily not poking him in the eye when he did. JC flinched. " -- right? That's what it's like for me. One minute you're not there, then suddenly you ARE. Just ... move slowly, or tell me, or something? Because I WANT you to be touching me." "I wasn't fucking poking your *eye* out, though," whispered JC. "God. I was trying to make sure you weren't cold. Just forGET it." *This is so STUPID,* he thought then, before opening his mouth again. "How the hell do you handle me touching you in bed?"

"JC, you're not being fair," said Justin, sighing again. "Don't get mad because you don't understand. In bed, I'm EXPECTING to be touched. It doesn't surprise me. And even then, I mean, have you ever even noticed I don't take my glasses off until, like, the last possible minute? Do you NOTICE me, the things that make me ME?" He bit his lip, and forced himself to calm down. "Thank you, for making sure I'm not cold. I appreciated it."

"I'm going to touch you," JC said softly then -- fucking OVERREACTING! -- sliding off his chair quietly and moving to kneel on the ground between Justin's feet. Slowly, he wrapped his hands up along Justin's thighs and around his waist, and then rested his head in Justin's lap. "I promise I notice you," he mumbled sheepishly into Justin's pants. Justin smiled and rested his hand on JC's head, running his fingers through his hair. "Maybe now you'll understand just how much I needed to find you, when I came looking earlier? I mean ... if you didn't already." He chucked. "Damn near broke my neck I think. But it was worth it ... because I found you ... " "I'm sorry," JC whispered, his voice barely audible. "Please don't do that, again. Wake up the fucking house if you have to, just don't ... don't do that."

"Don't do what ... exactly?" asked Justin. "Come looking for you?"

"Don't ... hurt yourself," JC clarified in that uncharacteristically weak voice. "I just ... I'll come to you, or whatever, or get whatever you need, or ... " He froze, and then continued. "I just won't leave again."

Justin smiled. "Oh, wow, do you mean that?" He leaned over and kissed JC's head. "What's with the change of heart?"

"What do you mean," JC asked distractedly, sinking into Justin's lap further with the kiss, burrowing into the warmth his body offered. "What change of heart?"

"We were ... arguing, kinda," said Justin slowly. "And now we're cuddling. And I'm LIKING the cuddling! But ... just wondering what I did right, I guess." He smiled down at JC, not even knowing if he could see him or not.

"Nothing I can explain," JC told him then, although that wasn't entirely true. He knew what it was. Justin asked him a simple question, an honest question -- 'Do you NOTICE me?' -- and it was all it took for JC to recognize what a shit he was being. That, and being mature enough to actually *thank* him calmly and sincerely in the same breath. "Rub my ears?" "Your ears?" repeated Justin softly, curiously, but he did. "What does that do for you?"

"It's just ... s'nice," JC muttered, sighing, shifting on his knees and nuzzling into Justin's hands. "Soothing. And ... you have nice fingers."

Justin laughed happily. "Is there ANYthing on my body you don't like?" he asked.

JC looked up at that, hoping Justin could see his eyes in the dark, before nudging Justin's hands in encouragement. "No. Well. Your chicken legs." He grinned, his face pressed into Justin's knee.

Justin rubbed JC's ears like he asked, and kicked out at him teasingly. "You were right," he said lightly. "It IS nice out here tonight."

JC sighed heavily as Justin's thumbs pressed against his earlobes. "I was looking at the stars, and thinking about you," he said a little dreamily, once more not very aware of what he was saying when Justin was touching him in one of his favorite ways to be touched. "What were you thinking about?" asked Justin, looking up at the sky. But he couldn't see anything, and sighed. "How different you are from anything I've ever known," JC replied, whimpering a bit when Justin let go of his ears. "How that just makes me fucking irrational, like, all the time."

"Everyone's different," said Justin, still staring at the dark, dark sky. "You're pretty different, too. I don't ... I COULDN'T ... fall in love with just anyone ... "

JC's breath hitched, again, like always, even more. "What?" Had Justin said that before? He'd told him that he'd fallen for him; he'd told him that he loved him. But 'in love'? "What are you ...?"

Justin looked down again, straight at JC, and smiled as he saw him. "What am I what?" he asked, perfectly innocently.

"Doing," JC stared. "Doing, to me. You're fucking up my breathing, Justin."

Justin gasped a little. "JC ... just ... um, relax?" He grinned. "I don't even know what I DID!"

JC bit his lip and shook his head. "You ... okay. It's okay, I must have ..." *Misunderstood*, he thought. Just because Justin said he thought he couldn't fall in love with just anybody, implying that he *had*, with JC ... he didn't actually say that. JC *did* need to fucking relax.

"Um, would you mind finishing a sentence here?" teased Justin, still grinning at him. "I'm clueless, JC. What's going on in your head?" "Nothing," JC smiled weakly, dropping his head back into Justin's lap. "Less talking, more ear-rubbing."

Justin began rubbing his ears again. "Any reason we can't do both?"

JC moaned a little, his arms tightening around Justin's waist as a shiver passed through him. "We can. What ... um, what were we talking about?"

"I was fucking up your breathing," Justin reminded him. "Something I still seem to be doing, for some reason ... "

"I just really like this, with the ears," JC mumbled. "I was just ... being retarded, before. Jumping the gun. Whatever ... mmm...right there, yeah."

"Whatever it was," said Justin, still rubbing his ears, "it was important. And I want to know, okay?"

JC pulled Justin's hands off his ears for a second. "What were you going to say, before I started, like, hyperventilating? What were you *going* to say?" He kissed his fingers and put them back on his cheeks, hoping Justin would resume what he had been doing. "What do you mean, what was I going to say?" he asked, confused, thinking back. "I thought I said ... wasn't I telling you how I fell in love with you because you weren't like everyone else, to me?"

JC could only nod dumbly, then sucked in another breath. "See?"

"What?" said Justin. "You KNOW I love you, right? Don't you?"

"That," JC managed to get out, "is NOT what you said. You said: 'in love.' IN love. As in, FELL in love. As in, NOT like how we both love Chris, and Lance, and Joey, only slightly more intense. IN love. That's ..."

"That's what I meant all along," finished Justin softly.

JC swallowed, twice, and managed to shake his head. His eyes were huge, and bright with tears, and his grip on Justin's thighs was probably close to painful.

"JC?" said Justin tentatively. "You, um, wanna move up here so I can kiss you now?" Still listening to his surroundings more than seeing them, he could hear the breathless gasps, the tiny sniffles that JC was making.

"I'm too big," JC protested, somewhat ridiculously, not trusting his muscles to be able to get him into Justin's lap anyway at the moment.

"Shush," said Justin dismissively. "Get up here. I'm a big boy." JC's hands clutched at Justin's shirt, the waistband of his sweatpants. "Please, Justin," he whimpered, needing the other man's arms around him. Justin put his hands on JC's shoulders, then around his neck. "Talk to me, JC," he whispered. "Tell me what you're thinking, baby." JC shuddered. "I can't ... I just can't believe this. You. You can't mean the things you say, not in the way I hear them. That's just ... you take my sould in your fist, when you do, Justin."

"Does it hurt you?" asked Justin, just holding him. "I just tell you what I feel, JC. I'm trying to be honest. I'm trying to make this work."

"You don't hurt me," he sighed, never wanting anything more than for Justin to take him into his arms and kiss every last breath from his lungs. "You never have. *I* hurt me, every time I risk this."

"I'm not a risk," said Justin, pulling him closer.

"Yes, you are," JC protested, desperation creeping into his voice. "I've been telling you all along I don't know how to do this the right way. And we keep fighting, and don't you think I know that's all my fault? You're a fucking *angel* but that doesn't mean you have infinite patience!" His shoulders slumped again. "And you already said ... you already *said* you were going to leave."

"Wait," said Justin, gripping JC's shoulder. "I'm SURE I never said I was going to leave, JC. Just what are you risking, when you're with me? I don't understand ... explain it to me." He tugs him up higher, trying to get JC into his lap and off his knees.

"YOU are what I'm risking, when I'm with you." JC fell a little off-balance trying to kneel on the chair between Justin's knees. "I KNOW I'm not explaining this right ... I'm trying to say that every time I walk out, or say something stupid, or overreact, I risk LOSING you. And even if I can't get it through my thick skull at the time, and I say and do things that I think hurt you ... then I come sit out here or wherever and think about it and realize that everytime I do that I'm just hurting myself -- fucking over this chance I never deserved in the first place. Is ... does that make any sense?"

"Okay," said Justin. "First thing's first. Straddle me or something before you fall on your ass, baby." He grinned at him and kissed his nose. "And now the important stuff ... you're not going to lose me. If I didn't walk that first day we were together, WHY would I do it now, when things are starting to get comfortable? We all do stupid shit, JC. You think I don't know that I do it, too? I -- " He wanted to suggest that JC consider not drinking, if he was so worried about messing things up, but it didn't feel like the right time. " -- I think we both deserve this chance," he said finally. "I really do."

JC hesitated, and then crawled back off the chair onto the floor again, resting his cheek on Justin's thigh, wrapping his arms around Justin's calves. He has no problem being aggressive, some of the time, a lot of the time -- but not now, not when he's talking to Justin for the first time about this stuff without his alcoholic safety net. The fact that Justin wouldn't just grab him and hold him made JC wonder what made him think he could do this sober in the first place. "Okay," he said softly. "I'll ... I won't bother you about it, anymore."

"JC?" said Justin softly. "What was it about me trying to get you closer to me that made you think I meant you should get off and stop talking?" He paused. "That's a serious question, hon. I don't understand ... why did you do that? And why are you so far away, now?"

"Why weren't *you* getting me closer to you?" JC replied, his voice growing flat again. "It just ... felt like ... FEELS like you're just *tolerating* this. Me." He covered the back of his neck with his own hand. "Like: 'here, JC, I *guess* you can sit on my lap.' Or, like, being all ... *dismissive* ... about what has me so scared I can't breathe."

Justin took a deep breath. "Okay, think about this, JC. I've been tugging on you for, like, 10 minutes now, trying to get you closer. I finally just had to ASK ... which seems to have backfired. And ... I ... " He didn't want to tell JC he was WRONG, not in those words, but he didn't know how else to do it. "I wasn't being dismissive," he said finally. "I was trying to be reassuring. That it was okay to talk about it. I'm sorry I ... wasn't."

JC shrugged again, unable to help still snuggling between Justin's legs even though he's never been more self-conscious about his touch not being wanted. "I'm not reassured by you just *telling* me I have nothing to worry about," he said. "But ... I don't know what *would*, so ... " JC still doesn't feel like he's breathing properly, but he doesn't think it's for the same reasons, anymore.

Justin ran his fingers though JC's hair. "JC ... come up here please. I ... need to see your face. I want to tell you something and I don't want to tell it to the blur at my knees." He wrapped a hand around the back of JC's shoulder and tried to lift him a little. "Please, JC ... have a little confidence in me ... "

JC sucked in another breath, then got to his feet shakily. He didn't know HOW to get any closer; straddling Justin seemed too lewd at the moment, and the chair really wasn't big enough for him to try and curl up in his lap -- not that they could look each other in the face if he did, anyway. Slowly, he leaned over -- making sure Justin could see it coming -- and took his face between his hands. The kiss he placed on Justin's lips was gentle, and when it was over he only pulled back enough to be able to meet his eyes. "Can you see me?" he whispered.

Justin blinked a couple of times, then nodded. "I -- " He began, then realized his words were all in a jumble in his head. "I AM in love with you, JC. But it's not a new thing, and it's not something that's just going to go away. It happened a long time ago -- I can hardly even remember when -- and it's just been getting stronger. Even with all of our problems. JC ... it was there all along. Ever since the beginning of us, and before. You don't have to be afraid, just because you KNOW about it now." He blinked at him again, and waited to see if his words had come out right.

JC's eyes were shut tightly; when he opened them, they were bright and wet. His breath caught in his throat when he tried to speak, to say *anything* ... he had to smile ruefully and just kiss Justin. He wouldn't take his mouth off of his lips, his chin, his jaw as he tugged him to his feet, steadying him when he stumbled. "I don't?" he asked pleadingly between kisses. "I don't, Justin?"

Justin smiled as he kissed him back, over and over again, regaining his balance. "You don't," he promised him. "You don't because it's real and it's not going to just vanish on you. On us." He wanted to tell JC, too, that he was looking forward to the day when JC was able to love him back, the same way, but that WOULD be pressure, and it was far, far too early to be saying it to him. Especially when he was like THIS, just at the notion that someone LOVED him, unconditionally, despite everything he'd been.

"Show me," JC whimpered, breaking away from Justin's embrace just long enough to grab the blanket off the chair and toss it on the ground beside them. "Please, I'm ... I'm not trying to degrade your feelings, the things you said, I just ... " He took another rasping breath and grabbed at his chest a little. "I need to feel you, Justin; please ... can you ... make love to me? Will you?"

"Here?" whispered Justin. "Now? Would that ... would that convince you? Because -- " He smiled, both at the notion of doing it and the words JC had used. He NEVER said 'making love'... so something had changed between them, fundamentally, in the past few minutes " -- I would love to, JC. Because I want you. I ALWAYS want you. If you're ... um ... up for it, now?"

JC brought what he knew were chilly hands up underneath the hem of Justin's tee shirt and kissed his throat. "You don't need to convince me. You already convinced me. That's not ... what this is." He shuddered, again, trying to draw in a deep breath. He knew exactly what he had just asked Justin for, hoped that Justin could do it ... had to say it again, and stronger, so Justin KNEW he knew what he was saying. "My heart's clenching up so bad, Justin ... I have to know what it feels like. Making love. I've never ... and I ... *please.*"

"Yes," said Justin simply, tilting his head for a kiss. "I would like to make love to you, JC. I want you to know what that IS." He tracks down JC's hands with his own, and clutches them. "Do you, um, want me to take charge, here? Because I've never ... but I could ... because it's you ..."

"I've never, either," JC replied softly, although it was redundant at that point. He was still gasping for breath a little, wheezing slightly, and clutched Justin's hands like they were keeping him alive. Everything that was happening between them at that moment came down to JC listening -- REALLY listening, with a clear head -- to the words Justin had been saying all along. And the panic attack that he was suffering was all because he finally was aware of exactly *what* it was he had been jeopardizing by treating Justin the way he had. "Please; oh, please, Justin."

"Oh, baby," breathed Justin, leaning forward and kissing him tenderly again. His own heart was just POUNDING, his head spinning. He wrapped his arms around JC, then, and held him tightly, held him close. He pressed his lips to JC's shoulder and exhaled gently against his neck for a long while. "Here?" he asked finally, "or did you want to go inside, to our room?"

"Here," JC managed to say, clutching desperately against Justin's back. He wasn't sure how many times he could say 'please.' "God, I need you ... just undress me, baby boy, please, PLEASE ... and love me." His whole body was suddenly flushed, and tears of frustration were going to start at any minute.

Justin fumbles with JC's shirt. "You'll have to help," he says softly, pleading a little himself. "The dark ... I can't ... can't SEE, JC ... " But he can feel. Can feel his fingers passing over the fabric, warm from JC's flushed body. He reaches up and touches JC's face, using his hand to see for him, feels the faint wetness at the corners of JC's eyes. "Oh," he says faintly. "Don't cry, hon." He begins to pull JC's shirt up, nudging him toward where he thinks the blanket landed.

"I'm not," JC responded weakly. "I just ... " He cut himself off when Justin started tugging his shirt up. "What do you need me to do, Justin? Just tell me." He stood almost perfectly still, then; arms raised, his body open, prepared for Justin to give him what this had always been missing.

Justin slowly raised JC's shirt over his head, running his hands over his chest and sides as he did. He knew the feel of JC's body, now, but absorbed it again, anyway. "Guide me," he said, in response to JC's question. "Where -- ? There's still a blanket around here, right ... ?" He looked down at the balcony helplessly, his hands pressed lightly against JC's waist.

JC nodded, pushing Justin's shirt up under his armpits and trying to press their bare chests together. "I'll worry about the blanket, you just ... keep ... doing ... " His breathing got shallow again, and he had to stop talking, tilting his head back and groping for Justin again.

Justin nodded, just slightly, and pulled his own shirt off over his head, dropping it with JC's. "Should have worn less clothes," he muttered as he worked on JC's pants. At least his own would just slip right off ... with nothing underneath. He glanced out over the balcony for a moment; he couldn't see anything but darkness and a few blurry lights, beyond it, but he knew what was out there. The large yard, the trees that would hide them, the distant neighbors. They were alone, really, and that was all he needed to reassure himself. He wanted this moment to be private, just between them.

JC's hands flitted nervously over Justin's arms as he undressed him, his head resting on the other man's chest. He shuddered again when warm fingers brushed his hips and stomach. He kept repeating 'please' to Justin in his mind, knowing he had said it aloud enough, not trusting his voice any more. He knew he was aroused -- painfully so -- but it seemed like such a secondary issue at the moment. His dick wasn't aching for contact as much as his heart was; he wanted so badly for this to be different for both of them.

Justin finally undid JC's pants, let them fall down. "You're going to have to get out of those yourself," he admitted in a whisper, deciding not to brave the tricky manoeuver. And, finally, he slid his own sweatpants off. The nakedness, the sex, wasn't primary at the moment, but it was one less thing to worry about when it did happen, which it was inevitably going to do. He ran his hands over JC's chest again, then, and began speaking to him under his breath. "You're beautiful. You're wonderful. You're soft. You're warm."

JC *felt* warm, Justin's deep voice resonating in his ear as he stepped out of his pants. "You can't even see me," he protested, in a whisper of his own, shifting his weight back and forth between his feet while he waits for Justin to tell him if he needs any more direction. He had to fight off the impulse to bend over and clutch at his knees, to try and take in enough oxygen that way ... Not only that, he didn't have the first clue how to touch Justin -- not like this.

"It doesn't matter," said Justin softly. "You can ... you can touch me any time now. I'm expecting it. I'm ... wanting it." He ran a single finger over JC's lips. "I don't need to see you to know you're beautiful," he said, feeling JC's body shake a little. "Shh, calm down, C ... it's okay. It's good, right?"

"I hope so," JC murmured in response, parting his lips under Justin's hand. "Justin, I can't ... I'm not going to be able to calm down. I just ... need to you to able to take me like this, it's ... it's just like when you'd cry ... " He grabbed onto Justin's hip in relief, his other hand covering the one that Justin was using to touch him. "I can't help it. I can't really breathe right now, and I can't HELP it, so just ..."

"Okay," said Justin, like JC had just discovered the secret code words that made Justin understand what he meant, on a gut level. "We can just do this then. But is it okay if it's slow? I'd like to make love to you slowly. Make sure you know that I'm doing it to EVERY part of your body ... "

JC shuddered again, his breathing quickening even more, and probably better than was good for him. "Yes, please," he said, almost obediently. "I may sound like ... I can't last, but ... I will. Justin, just *show* me ..."

"I'm learning, too," said Justin softly, unnecessarily. "Promise me you'll tell me when things feel bad, or feel good." He leaned forward on faith and kissed the center of JC's chest. "And ... I mean inside, too, not just outside ... " His lips touched JC's flesh again, and he let his tongue dart out to taste it.

JC's knees buckled when he felt Justin's tongue on his skin, and he reached out for him again desperately, panting. He wanted to tell Justin that he *wasn't* learning, that it was something that would come naturally to Justin because he *did* love JC, but he couldn't put a sentence together. Every time he tried, he was hit with Justin's voice in his brain, telling him that he was in love with him ... and he'd start hyperventilating worse. He was dangerously close to falling to his knees in front of Justin.

"Is that a good sway or a bad sway, C?" whispered Justin as he licked JC's skin, warmed a nipple in his mouth. His hands still gently held JC's hips and he softly rubbed the skin of his stomach with his thumbs. "You're ... this is amazing ... you letting me love you like this ... you letting me SHOW you all the ... the tenderness you deserve ... letting me try the ways I want to touch you. I want to touch your heart, C. I want you to KNOW this feeling I have ... "

"Please," JC croaked, wavering again -- at Justin's lips on his nipple, perhaps, but ... more likely, as always, from his words. JC had never *felt* tenderness, let alone thought he deserved it ... not even from Justin, during sex, they had only been hot and desperate together up to that point. "It's ... good, it's all so *good*, Justin, but I can't ..." For the first time, JC starts getting scared that he might actually literally pass out.

"Breathe," Justin told him gently. "Breathe, C. Let me do this. Let me fucking WORSHIP you, here, if just this once, okay? I can't see you ... but I can touch you, taste you, smell you, hear you ... and it's all so fucking GOOD."

JC took one shuddering breath, and then let his legs give out like he knew they were going to do. "I don't deserve it," he whispered as he fell to his knees, breathing and leaning heavily against Justin's stomach, the implications of his position in front of Justin's groin barely registering. "Of course I'll let you, but I won't deserve it ..."

"You do deserve it," said Justin, feeling for JC's new position then running his hand through his hair. He fell to his knees, too -- not that JC's position doesn't give him IDEAS -- because he wanted to be on the same level as him. Equals. "And I'm going to keep kissing you until you believe me." He kissed JC on the neck, then the chin, the cheek, his lips ...

"Why?" JC asked softly, kissing Justin's face when he can, leaning his head back when he can't. "Why do I deserve this? I ... I should be doing this for *you*, and I've been so selfish ..."

"You deserve it because I say you do," said Justin simply. "You shouldn't doubt that. You deserve it, because that's how I feel." He kissed him again and again. "You deserve to be happy ... and you being happy makes ME happy ... "

"Why?" JC asked again, like a young child. His breathing slowed a little -- not because what Justin was saying now was any less powerful, or important, but because he honestly seemed intent on making sure JC was secure in him before going any further.

"Why does it make me happy?" repeated Justin. "Because ... it does. I don't know." He lightly ran his hands up JC's arms to his shoulders, then up his neck to up his face. He leaned in close enough to see him, see his wide eyes, his parted lips, his flushed cheeks. Which, conveniently, was close enough to kiss him again.

JC didn't close his eyes when Justin kissed him that time, staring at him until the last possible moment. "I ... I haven't been happy, away from you, this week," he admitted slowly, still panting shallowly, when Justin started kissing his face again. He looked down, then, and started spreading the blanket out, smoothing the bumps. "You don't need to worry about me leaving you," Justin promised him between slow kisses. "That's not going to happen."

"But ... you SAID ... " JC trailed off, knowing that wasn't the time to remind Justin that he had already mentioned how he was going to need time alone, time away from JC. DAYS away from JC. "Please, just don't," he said as firmly as he could manage.

"I'll never leave you," said Justin again. "Wherever I go, whenever it happens, I'll always come home to you, JC."

*But why do you have to leave at ALL,* JC wanted to ask. And before he knew it, his breathing started to get choppy again. "Justin," he coughed, leaning his face into Justin's neck. "Can you try and ... make me feel safe? Please? I need this, but ... I almost need that more."

Justin wrapped his arms around JC, then, and just held him again, rocking him slowly back and forth. "Can you tell my why you don't feel safe? With me? It would ... help me understand ... "

JC threw his arms around Justin in turn. "I don't want to be alone," he reminded him simply. "You've got me needing you so bad I can feel it in my lungs."

"I need you, too," Justin said, and meant it. "Even if I'm not there ... for a few hours or a day ... doesn't mean you're alone, C. I'm still, you know, WITH you." He kissed JC's neck as he held him, feeling a few tears of his own spring up.

JC couldn't help but hope that maybe this, maybe making love, will help him *feel* that connection; will help him keep Justin with him, and help keep HIM embedded in Justin's mind too. He sank down a little, crossing his legs, trying to relieve some of the pressure on his knees without disengaging himself from Justin's embrace.

Justin felt his way somewhat awkwardly around JC's body. "Here, sit," he said, then sat down behind him and wrapped his arms and legs around JC's body, He rested his chin on JC's shoulder. "That's better," he whispered. The balcony was hard beneath the too-thin blanket, but he didn't mind. "You're all wrapped up in me now."

Shivers wracked JC's body again as they sat, but none from the chill in the air: instead, from Justin's words tickling his ear, from the tugging on his heart that he can't *see* Justin any more, from the heat of Justin's groin at the small of his back. He dug his own jaw into Justin's forearm, crossed over his chest. "Is this part of it?" he asked quietly.

"Is this part of what, hon?" asked Justin softly, kissing his shoulder from behind.

"Um ... making love," JC murmured under his breath. "It ... it feels like it is ..."

"It is, I think," whispered Justin, sucking on his earlobe for just a brief moment. "It feels like it, to me." The shudders become a little more noticeable as JC shifts against Justin's body. "Um ... Justin? Are you going to ...?"

"Am I going to what, exactly?" asked Justin, kissing his shoulder again and running his hands lightly over JC's stomach.

"Well," JC wiggled again and tried to rephrase, but he couldn't make his mind create a normal request. "Anything. What ... what were you thinking you might do? To .. me?"

"I thought maybe you'd like to have me inside you again?" said Justin softly. "But ... nothing's for sure, I think. I just want to, you know, be comfortable. Touch you. Make us both feel good and comfortable and ... safe."

JC flushed and sighed back against Justin's broad chest, reveling in the soothing way his hands moved over JC's belly. "I like being out here, with you," JC turned and kissed Justin's cheek. "I didn't thank you for coming to find me."

"You don't have to thank me for that," Justin assured him. "I did it for me as much as for you." His hand trailed down the inside of JC's thigh and back up again, the other still resting lightly against his stomach.

Watching Justin's hands move over his skin fascinated JC, the skin of both their bodies glowed in the moonlight and dimmer starlight. "You do have wonderful fingers, the most perfect hands," he told him then, tracing the path Justin left on his leg with his own palm.

"Nothing about me is perfect," said Justin. "But I like my hands, too. I like what they're feeling right now more, though."

JC's chest heaved a little, not at ALL wanting Justin to rush this. "What?" he asked softly. "Me?"

"Yeah, you," said Justin, his hand exploring JC's other thigh. "It's like ... learning you in a different way."

"But ... you've already been able to do this," JC reminded him, gripping his own thigh to keep from gropin Justin's leg in return. "You could see, and feel, every part of me that you wanted to."

"It feels different now," said Justin simply. "Maybe because I can't see you. Maybe because ... things changed a little bit today. Maybe because we're both just touching, with no goal in mind ... "

JC had to frown. He WAS enjoying the intimacy with Justin, and it DID feel like something that would be an essential element to 'making love,' but ... he also wanted it consummated. He *needed* to Justin stilled for a moment. "JC? That kinda sounded like a BAD 'oh' ... "

"No," JC replied quickly. "I just ... what you said before? About ... about being inside me? I don't think I responded, but ... please, Justin, you have to know I want that ... "

"I want that, too," said Justin, "but there's no timeline, is there? No urgency? We have time to touch, first, don't we?"

"No," Jc repeated, trying to force himself to relax. "No timeline; of course we can touch. I need that too. It's just ... when you said that, about no goals, and ... you were avoiding some places, and ... I just got worried."

"Oh, C," said Justin with a soft sigh against JC's neck. "You don't need to worry. Just ... enjoy EVERYthing that happens, okay? We're just, you know, taking the scenic route. And if, in the end, we end up doing something ELSE, well, that's okay, too. Because it'll be what we want, at the time ... "

JC smiled fondly at Justin's attempt to be rational. "Can you tell I'm not used to this? The going slow, or the holding, or ... or the love part?"

"That's okay," said Justin. "I'm kinda playing this by ear, C. I'm just, you know, doing what feels right, instead of what i think i SHOULD be doing. Is ... that okay? Is it good for you, too?"

Nestling deeper into Justin's arms, JC nodded and yawned. He picked up one of Justin's hands and placed it back on the softer skin inside his thigh. "Learn me, some more."

Justin laughed softly, his breath hot against JC's skin. He trailed his fingers up the inside of JC's thigh, cupped his balls for just a moment and rolled them in his hand. "And you wonder why I fell in love with you ... "

JC inhaled audibly, wondering how Justin seemed to *know* what it did to him to have him say things like that, and then to touch him at the same *time* ... He put a reassuring hand on Justin's wrist. "What?" he asked innocently. "Isn't that what you said you were doing?"

"I'm not sure I DID say what I was doing," admitted Justin, moving his hand back to JC's hip. "But yeah ... this is wonderful ... "

"No, really, what?" JC asked, trying hard not to chase after Justin's hand with his hips. "Why did you say it like that, like ... like a joke? I thought you said you were trying to learn me in a different way ...?"

"I did, baby, I did," said Justin. "I was just ... you sounded really cute, okay? It made my heart jump. It made me happy."

"I'm not sure what ... cute?" JC asked doubtfully. "But in a 'I'll still fuck you' kind of way, right?"

"In a 'I couldn't possibly want to make love to you more' kind of way," corrected Justin, licking his throat lightly.

JC's neck tingled, his fingers tingled, his groin tingled. He'd never really played up that before with Justin -- trying to be cute, trying to help Justin feel like he could and should be protective and aggressive. "I'm sorry," he whispered, feeling badly about his slip. "I didn't ... mean that."

"It's okay if you did," said Justin. "Seriously. We CAN have both things, you know. I mean -- " He licks his neck again. " -- there are going to still be nights when we just want to fuck, you know?"

"Not tonight," JC insisted then, trying to turn and catch his eye. "Please, Justin; you promised ..."

"No, not tonight," agreed Justin, nibbling on his ear again. "I promised? JC, am I not doing something I promised?"

"No," JC tried to reassure him, squirming in his arms. "I just meant ... you promised you'd ... that we'd ... make love. Tonight. *That's* all I meant ..."

"Oh!" said Justin. "Yes. Yes ... we will. We ARE."

JC sighed happily, and let his own hands roam to Justin's legs, tracing the inside of his knees, running his fingers along the tendons. "You were wrong," he murmured idly. "There's so much about you that's perfect."

Justin sighs in return. "I'm not perfect," he said. "Perfect for you, maybe. I'd ... like to think so."

"You think we fit together?" JC asked him then. "Complements, or whatever?" "I think we do," said Justin, running both hands up JC's chest, then, and pinching his nipples lightly.

"Perfect fingers ... " JC hummed happily. "I'm not budging on that one."

"Perfect for what we use them for," corrected Justin with a smile. He kissed the back of JC's neck, his mouth open and wet.

JC gripped Justin's knees a little harder, his head tilting forward to give him better access. "That too," he breathed shakily. "But ... perfect to look at, too. They're so ... strong. I can get so distracted by just staring at your big hands; distracted when I shouldn't."

"Distracted when?" asked Justin teasingly as he continued to mouth JC's neck. His hands moved back down his body; one stroked JC's cock lightly, the other cupped his balls again.

"Hmm," JC hummed deep in his chest, torn between watching Justin touch him and just closing his eyes and *feeling* it. "Distracted, always. When you're eating pizza. When you let me watch you shave. When you're holding a microphone during an interview, like that time you kept playing with that curl at the back of your neck. Just ... always."

"What if I like that?" said Justin, sucking on a lock of hair for a moment. "What if I like distracting you? What if I like it when your attention's on me?"

"Did I sound like I was complaining?" JC replied softly. "I like it, too...it's just *distracting*, when sometimes I should be focused on other stuff, and not thinking about ... well, where your hands could be."

"Okay. I'll wear gloves during interviews," said Justin, still running his fingers up and down JC's erection -- in the back of his mind, he was just happy that it was THERE. "You're going to have to stop distractng me, too, though ... "

JC gasped a little: half laugh, half involuntary reaction. "What do *I* do?" he asked, trying hard not to thrust his hips, letting Justin do this to *him* rather than the other way around. "You never even *look* at me; I watch you, I know that."

"You think, if I look at you, people won't KNOW what I"m thinking?" said Justin softly. "Won't KNOW that I have it bad for you?"

Heat spread through JC's head and gut and groin at that, and he leaned his head back onto Justin's shoulder. "So ..." he said shakily. "If you *don't* look at me, how do I distract you? And ... how should I stop?"

"You just need to be less sexy," Justin teased him. "Just because I'm not looking, doesn't mean I'm not distracted."

"I'm not sexy," JC protested. "I'm ... geeky. And when I'm not geeky, I'm just being plain nasty. And ... how can you be distracted if you're not looking? I don't ... get it."

"My mind," said Justin softly. "Not just my eyes. I think about you, like, all the time. And you ARE sexy, to me. I'm not sexy either ... but I bet I'm sexy to you ... "

JC wanted to turn around in Justin's arms and *show* him just as sexy he was, to JC, but ... a bigger part of him still just wanted the younger man to make love, HIS way. "I promise, you are," he said huskily. "What do you think about, when you think about me?"

"All kinds of things." He wrapped his hand, not tightly, around JC's cock and began slowly stroking. "Sometimes just hanging out with you, getting along ... kissing, talking, making out, making love ... sometimes I just think about looking at you."

JC suffered another gasp-laugh-type-thing, before letting his own hands slide further back up Justin's thighs. "That's ... you're weird. Why do you *think* about looking at me, if you can just ... look at me?"

"Because sometimes I can't," said Justin, continuing to slowly jerk him off. "Because sometimes it would be too ... revealing ... to look at you. So I just think about it."

"I think you hide it well," JC protested, and placed his own hand on top of Justin's, mirroring his motions. "There were times this week that I actually wondered if I had pissed you off, or something, you seemed so detached ... "

"Thing have been ... difficult this week," he admitted, mouthing JC's neck again. "Both of us ... getting used to things ... I guess I've been trying to keep the other guys from SEEING, you know? I'm ... " He grips JC just a little bit tighter as he strokes. "It wasn't about me feeling distant ... just trying to maybe look like I was."

"No, I know," JC told him, wiggling their bodies closer. "I know what you were doing, I just ... and I thought you were OKAY with the guys, and ... and ... FUCK, Justin, you might have to stop that, soon, baby boy."

Justin didn't stop. "I'm okay with the guys ... I just don't need any more teasing than I already get. They know, now. They don't need to know EVERYthing. Sometimes it's ... private." He began sucking on JC's ear as he stroked.

JC braces his weight on his hands, still resting on Justin's legs, and slowly grinds his hips backwards so Justin's erection is pressed between the cheeks of his ass. "Private?" he echoes. "If they know we're fucking, what ELSE are you scared about them knowing? And ... god, Justin, why aren't you listening to me?"

"I'm listening just fine," said Justin, stroking a little faster. "Private as in ... feelings. Not just the fact that we're together. They don't need to know all the things that are inside me ... some of that stuff is just for you."

Bucking back a little harder, JC tried to peel Justin's fingers off of his erection. "You must NOT be listening," he argued, his breathing hitching again. "I *said* you should stop ... *doing* that ..."

Justin let go. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I just thought ... "

JC froze. "No ... no, Justin, I just ... well. Um. Was that, like, how you wanted this to go? I'm ... okay with it, if it was, *I* just thought ..."

Justin kisses him again. "You say that like we're just going to do one thing ... " he said softly.

"Oh," JC replied warily, looking at Justin's profile from the corner of his eye. "OH! So ... that was ... what was that, then?"

"A mistake, I guess," whispered Justin. "I'm sorry."

JC sighed deeply, SO deeply. "No. This was my mistake. I knew that I ... I'm just not ... not someone that people can make love to. I guess."

Justin hugged him close. "Remember ... we're doing what feels good. If that didn't feel good, you just had to SAY, JC. I'm not going to do something you don't want."

"Of *course* it felt good," JC told him. "Don't you get that's why I wanted you to stop? I just ... it felt great. I think I kinda need to be told what you're doing. I'm as new at ... making love as you are with sex with someone else."

"I was doing what felt right," admitted Justin. "I was liking it ... you were liking it ... and I figured if we took the edge off, it would be easier for you to, you know, do this without focusing on what we're eventually GETTING to."

JC leaned back against Justin's body again. "I don't know what to do with this assumption that you have about my stamina," he muttered, smiling, pulling Justin's arms across his chest again. "You don't ... you don't have to do that, tonight. Really."

"I don't HAVE to do anything," Justin reminded him. "I was just ... like I said. It felt right."

JC frowned a little; had to wonder if Justin thought he was being greedy, or ungrateful, at all. "Well ... I wish you hadn't just stopped touching me ... it really is making me feel like I shouldn't have asked in the first place."

"I'm sorry," says Justin again. "I just ... I didn't understand why you were stopping me." He rests his hands on JC's stomach. "Tell me what you want, okay?"

"Just ... forget it," JC made his move to stand up, feeling like he had earlier when Justin told him he could sit in his lap if he wanted to ... except a million times worse. "C'mon," he held his hand back as he gathered his knees under him. "Let's just get you back to bed without you breaking your neck."

"Stop," said Justin, holding onto him tightly. "Stop this, JC. You're ... you're trying to stop this from happening, when you're really desperate for it. Like ... like me. So please ... stay. Relax." He kissed the back of his neck again.

"I'm relaxed," JC insisted. "I just ... if you're not into this, if you don't think you can DO it, then let's just not worry about it tonight. Really." He leaned forward again, ducking out of the way of Justin's lips ... feeling more like a *charity* case than anything.

Justin tightened his legs around him, them, as though holding him in place. "I'm in love with you," he whispers, knowing now what it does to JC to be reminded of that. "I want nothing MORE than to make love to you, right now. But making love isn't just one act ... it's everything that happens before and after, too. So take a deep breath, hon, and let's try this again, okay?"

Of course, JC *can't* breathe well when Justin says that to him, and he suspected that he *knew* that. "Then don't *hesitate*," he pled with him. "If it's what you want, and you know it's what I've been *begging* you for, then ... don't stop. Don't REJECT me, like that."

"It's not rejection," said Justin, sighing. "And sometimes ... hesitation is part of the learning process, okay? You can hesitate, too. Let's neither of us freak about it. And just ... give me status reports or something, okay?" He rubs his stomach, but doesn't reach for his cock again. "So I know that everything is going okay, on your end ... "

"Just don't," JC pulled Justin's hand away again. "I can't do this halfway, with you. I can't ... let myself go, can't let you try to make love to me, if you're going to be ... re-evaluating, or some shit, in the middle. I just *can't*. I'd rather not try."

"Re-evaluating?" said Justin, pausing in disbelief. "C ... where do you GET this stuff from?"

"Hesiatating, re-evaluating...same thing," JC sniffed, scooting away again. "I made a mistake. We're not ready for this. *Obviously.* PLease forget about the whole ... begging for it thing."

"JC ... please ... " Justin felt his eyes tearing up. "Don't ... what are you saying? That you don't want me? I don't understand ... "

"Of course, I do," JC told him, getting to his knees. "But I ... I need you to be stronger than that, for this. For this part. I love being intimate with you, and we should still DO that, but ... that wasn't making love. I didn't feel it, the way I think I'm supposed to."

"Then that's MY fault," said Justin sadly. "I couldn't make you feel the things I was. Couldn't make you understand that hesitation isn't second thoughts ... and that I thought things were going wonderfully ... "

"Then what WAS that hesitation?" JC frowned, turning around halfway to watch Justin. "I WAS feeling those things, I was so, SO surrounded by you ... and then it just ... slowed down. Too much. And you ... I doubted it, all of a sudden." "You pulled me away, JC," Justin said. "I didn't know what was happening. I though I was doing something you didn't like. I'd be a real ass if I HADN'T stopped, wondering those things."

"That's not true," JC said softly. "You didn't think you were doing something I didn't like. I told you, TWICE, that you should stop -- but it was clear whatI meant by that. And if you're too insecure to recognize that me pulling your fingers off me before I come all over your hand way, WAY too soon, then ... I mean, that's why we're not ... fucking ... now."

"Maybe you should have believed in me enough to realize I KNEW what the fuck I was doing, and to let me," said Justin, his voice low. "Yeah, I knew what you meant those two times. Peeling my hand off is another thing entirely. You said you wanted to learn from me, but you don't. Or you would have just let it happen."

"Fuck," JC muttered then, under his breath, knowing that Justin was RIGHT, for shit's sake, and hating it. "Just, FUCK. Now what?"

"Now?" repeated Justin. "Get your ass back over here and let me hold you some more." He smiled into the darkness and hopes that JC could see.

"I'm too ... embarrassed, or something," JC protested even as he inched closer to Justin again. "It's not your fault, but ... as much as I want to touch you, it's not ..." He trailed off, not wanting to say again that he wasn't *feeling* it any more, but that being more of the truth than anything.

"Just let me hold you," repeated Justin. "It doesn't have to be any more than that, now, okay?"

JC paused, and then turned around between Justin's legs again. "Like this, still?" he asked uncertainly. "I didn't know what you wanted ..."

Justin wrapped his arms around him from behind, kissed the back of his neck again. "Just like that," he assured him. "Feels nice."

"Perfect *arms*," JC had to elabroate on their argument from earlier. "Do you feel half this safe, and special, when I hold you?"

"More than," said Justin softly. "You make me feel ... really nice. Really good. Even when you hand is just on my back or something. You make me feel important."

"Well, you are," JC told him, ducking his head again, settling back into the same position like he'd never left. "Special. And tolerant and safe. And strong and sexy and, yes, perfect."

"Stop with the perfect," laughed Justin quietly. "I could live with 'right', though. I'd like to think I'm 'right'. I already KNOW that you are, for me."

"That's not the same thing," JC complained a little. "And ... is that what you meant by 'right'? Right for *me*?"

"Yeah," said Justin. "Right for you. In YOUR mind."

JC bit his lip. "But 'right,' how? Like ... sexually compatible? You know we are. And we get along pretty well, and ..." JC shook his head. "That's not what you meant, though, is it?"

Justin shook his head, his nose brushing against the back of JC's neck. "It's okay. If you feel it ... you'll know." His hands brushed over JC's stomach again.

JC slumped back against Justin, now very much exaclt how he had been postioned earlier in the evening. "Let's not mess this up, this time?"

"Let's just let whatever happens, happen," said Justin. "I'd rather not do that again, though, no ... " His hand followed a now-familiar path to JC's inner thigh.

"I'm putting myself in your *perfect* hands," JC smiled then. "However you want me to be; whatever you want me to do. Just ... show me. Have you ever ... fantasized about this? About making love, instead of just screwing?"

"Every. Fucking. Day," said Justin. "I'm going to kiss you now. A bunch of times. Okay?"

JC nodded and parted his lips, even as he tried to keep talking to Justin. "Every day? Really? What's ... what's so different?"

"Um ... this, I think," said Justin. "Taking it slow. Talking, especially. I don't know, exactly."

"We *talk*," JC protested. "And as for taking it slow ... well. It still seemed so soon, to really tease, so ..."

"We never talked like this though," said Justin between sloppy kisses. "We've never talked this MUCH, without fighting ... "

JC tried to twist around in Justin's arms, to get into a position where he could kiss him more deeply. "I -- I'm sorry, for how much of that is my fault. The fighting. And not talking ... I didn't know how important it was, to you."

"Well ... you couldn't have," said Justin. "Unless we got to a point where we could TALK about it. You know ... like this."

That didn't matter to JC; he still should have *known*. "Do you ... is that what you want to do, instead?" He bit his lip and leaned back to look at the stars again. "We could put our clothes back on and just ... lay here, if ... if that's more important..." "There's no 'instead'," insisted Justin. "It's ... we have BOTH, JC. And that's, like, part of why it's so good." JC snuggled a little tighter against Justin's torso, giving up on untangling himself from Justin's arms to be able to face him and kiss him. "It's a gorgeous night, baby boy, and I'm with you. *That's* why it's good."

"We're good for a lot of reasons," said Justin softly, running his tongue along JC's shoulder. "I want us to always be this good."

"More reasons than the talking?" JC asked, shivering at the goosebumps that appeared from Justin's tongue. "I'm actually ... I mean, I've done something right, with you?"

"Yeah," said Justin. "Some things are hard to put in words though, you know? Some things you just ... feel."

JC could feel himself growing impatient again, wanting Justin to touch him; or, if he wasn't going to do that, then to at *least* tell JC that *he's* actually responsible for some of the good things. But ... he really did want to defer to Justin on this, to follow his lead on making love ... especially after Justin's comment about how he should have the faith in him to do it. "And?" he asked in a deep voice, then. "What is it you're feeling?"

"Love. Lust. Curiosity. Gratitude. Nervousness. Anticipation." Justin wrapped both of his hands around JC's cock, but didn't see to have the notion of stroking him to orgasm this time. "That's ...that's quite a list," JC exhaled, cupping Justin's elbows in his hands. "The gratitude, you may have to explain. And ... thank you. For saying love, first."

"It's what I feel most," said Justin with a smile, sucking on his neck. "Gratitude ... because you're here with me."

"I'm not doing you a *favor*, Justin," JC responded, again having to concentrate on not bucking up into Justin's warm hands. "I should be thanking you. For risking everything you did, for taking this ... this awful *chance* that could have just been the biggest mistake of your life."

"But it wasn't," said Justin, stroking him slowly, evenly. "It isn't. It's the best thing, ever."

"Ever?" JC echoed, giving into his impulses and lifting his hips off the ground slightly, pulling back on Justin's arms when he does. He could only hope that when this was all over and done with, Justin would still feel that way. "And I still haven't even made you dinner the right way, yet."

"It's just because ... it's for real," said Justin after a moment. "It's gonna be up and it's gonna be down, sometimes, but it's US and we'll MAKE it work." He didn't even realize that' he'd gone WAY into the long-term with this, didn't stop to wonder how JC might see that.\

"Mm-hmm," JC agreed distractedly, pumping his hips again. "It'll work until it doesn't, yeah. And we can ... cross that bridge, sometime ... later ..."

"No," said Justin softly. "Not 'until it doesn't'. We can work through anything that comes up. We don't have to ever lose this." He bit softly into JC's shoulder as he continued to stroke him.

"Justin," JC frowned, sitting up a little. "That's not ... oh ..." He had to stop when he felt Justin's teeth dig into his flesh. He *knew* he should press Justin on that, to make sure he didn't have too many ideas about where this would eventually lead before JC let him touch him again, but ... that *mouth* ...

Justin stroked him a little harder, thinking that an orgasm might do a lot of good, after all. He swirled his tongue of the spot he'd just bitten, then sucked on the warm flesh.

JC slumped back against Justin, his body gone almost completely limp. His hands dropped down beside Justin's hips, wrapped loosely around the underside of his thighs, cupping him just below his buttocks. "Oh ... Justin ... " he breathed again. "You really don't have to ... oh ... ohgodFUCK that feels good ... " The fact that JC hadn't had an orgasm since early that morning, before Justin left, was catching up with him ... especially given the frequency they'd been doing it over the prior week.

"I want to," insisted Justin. "Do you even KNOW how much it turns me on, to see you come? To know that *I* did that to you? To see that, just ... ECSTASY ... cross your face? It's .. " He began stroking him with just one hand, hard and smooth, the other teasing the insides of his thighs again. "Making love ... it's a series of things. It's this orgasm, and the one after, and maybe the one after that, and everything that happens in between ... "

"But ..." This really wasn't what JC had in mind, when they had started this; he had some picture of the two of them, one inside the other, maybe coming together ... despite Justin's erection that he could feel against his back, still, he wasn't convinced about how a handjob could be considered 'lovemaking.' But as long as Justin held out the promise of more, JC would just let it drop -- he was too close to protest at this point, especially with the smooth rhythm he had fallen into. "Justin ... I'm gonna fucking come all OVER you in about two seconds ... this isn't ... "

"Stop fighting," whispered Justin in his ear, flicking his tongue out against it. "Stop saying what this should or shouldn't be, and just LET it happen. Let me make you come, JC. Please let me do this for you, let me feel your body just melt into mine when I'm not too consumed by my own orgasm to enjoy that. Just go with it, JC, just GO with it." He bit lightly onto JC's earlobe as he stroked him hard and fast.

JC could only whimper at Justin biting him again -- could he possibly have any CLUE what that did to him, on his ear, no less? --and brought his hands back up to grab Justin's knees. A feverish rush overtook his body and his head fell back on Justin's shoulder when he started to come. He couldn't watch; he couldn't hear himself repeating Justin's name over and over, along with various terms of endearment that he *never* used ... all he could do was focus on how *surrounded* he felt by Justin's hand on his cock and Justin's arms around his shoulders and Justin's chest against his back and Justin's legs still hooked over top of his own.

Justin swore he could feel the heat flash though JC's body as he came, spilling over Justin's hand in a long, continuous rush. "I love you," he had to whisper as his other hand ran soothingly over JC's stomach. A few moments later, as JC's body DID melt into his, he released JC's softening cock and brought his hand up to his mouth to lick it clean. He wished he could have seen JC come, but he settled for resting his face against his neck and feeling the tiny hairs there stiffen as the orgasm rushed through him.

JC's breath, which had started coming out in a rush when he was at the peak of his orgasm, caught and sped up even more at Justin's soft words. As always, he had to wonder what he could have ever done to make Justin feel that way -- had to wonder why he said it when he did, too. His body went limp and almost lifeless as he started coming down. Until he saw Justin bring his hand -- 'PERFECT hand,' he muttered -- to his mouth. JC reached up and grabbed it instead, bringing it to his own lips: tasting himself on Justin's warmth, suckling at the skin between his thumb and first finger.

Justin shuddered a little bit as JC's lips touched his hand, and he nibbled on his ear again. His body was so wrapped around JC's right now, he couldn't GET any closer. "You ... you just have NO idea how amazing that was just now, do you?" he breathes against JC's neck. His whole body is warm now. Flushed. And his heart felt just HUGE with emotion for JC, who for that moment of orgasm seemed completely vulnerable and open to him. And that was what they both needed. His hand still moved restlessly against JC's stomach, the skin warm and soft.

JC had to laugh tenderly at the absurdity of Justin's comment. "I ... *I* have no idea? That was ... Justin, *I* was the one that got to have you do ... that. What ... " he paused, and lapped at Justin's hand some more when Justin nipped at his ear, losing his voice for a moment. "Why was it amazing, for you?" He started tracing his fingertips along Justin's other hand, watching and interfering with his palm smoothing over his skin, almost translucent in the moonlight. "And thank you," he murmured. "For letting me just feel that."

"It's amazing," said Justin, running his hand over JC's chest now, his own skin tingling from JC's touch, "because you just ... you let go to me, JC. Completely. And it was just the most amazing, most brave thing. To let someone else just have that utter control over your body. And you GAVE that to me, knowingly, willingly." He hushed as he realized he was babbling again, and that JC probaby didn't understand what a monumental thing that was, to him. "It was the greatest gift," he murmured, "and one I hope I'm able to give back to you, so you KNOW just how amazing it is."

"Oh." JC thought he understood that, a little, and wondered if it was anything like what he had felt -- what he had been *able* to feel -- when he helped Justin fuck himself earlier. Even though part of him hoped it wasn't, because that had still been just fucking. And hadn't Justin promised that wasn't what this was? Maybe it was more something like how he had felt that Justin trusted JC to ever touch him in the first place. "I'm not scared of you," he told him then. "I'm much, much more afraid when I don't have you curled up around me."

Justin finally became really aware of his own arousal, pressed up against JC's back. Not that he hadn't known it was there, but he had been concentrating on JC's body to the exclusion of his own, wanted to really KNOW what JC was feeling without complicating it with his own body's reactions. But it wouldn't be ignored anymore. "How are you doing," he asked JC softly, still tightly wrapped around him. "What are you thinking right now, hon?"

"Hon," JC echoed idly, and took a second to try and figure out how he felt about Justin's penchant for calling him that. "Hm. What'm I thinking? I was just ... wondering. About ... how the hell you can call *me* brave for letting you do that, when it must have been so hard ...SO hard ... for you to let me ever touch you to begin with. I mean ... wasn't it?" He shifted a little in Justin's arms and shivered as his sweat cooled slightly. "And I was thinking that was ... nice. Different. You were jerking me off, but it wasn't ... wasn't LIKE that, you know?"

"It was, kind of," admitted Justin. "But it was you ... and you made it good. And I already knew I wanted it. JC, I ... " Justin paused to kiss and touch JC a little before saying what's on HIS mind. "You've only ever fucked before," he said finally. "You say so yourself. So ... you've never REALLY let yourself go like that. You've kept a piece behind to give you distance. And you didn't, this time. And that's brave. And THAT," he added, nipping his shoulder with a tiny grin on his face, "is why this is making love."

"How can you tell I did that?" JC asked curiously, twisting in Justin's arms to kiss him back, wondering how honest 'making love' can let him be. "How did you know I just depended on all the physical parts before, even ... even with you? And ... " -- JC closed his eyes and slowly pressed back against Justin a little purposefully -- "Are you going to think I'm a freak if I tell you how fucking MUCH it turns me on when you ... um, bite?"

"It was something about the way your body felt," said Justin softly, kissing his lips. "They way your muscles loosened. Something about the way you didn't stop the words from flowing out of your mouth. Something about the way you didn't try and take control." Justin almost involuntarily ground his erection against JC's body. "Will you think I'M a freak, if I ask you to bite me back?" he also countered, letting his lips slide back down to JC's neck and biting him gently.

JC felt the blood start to fill his cock again at the sound of Justin's voice and the sharp points of his teeth, and he braced his feet on the ground to push back against Justin harder. "What did I say, when you did that?" he asked. "And ... I don't take try and take control ALL the time, do I?" He took Justin's hand that he still held in his own, licked his palm softly, and then bit the tender skin on the inside of Justin's wrist.

"Everyone does," murmured Justin, moaning softly as JC bit him. "Everyone tries to control their own actions and reactions. It ... it takes a lot of strength and trust to be able to let go." He couldn't tell JC what he'd said as he came, couldn't remember what the string of words had been other than that they were hot and tender and made him feel warm inside. "Wow, do I ever want to be inside you," he whispered suddenly, not even thinking the words before they came out of his mouth, licking over JC's shoulder where he'd already left a half dozen tiny bitemarks.

JC's dick hardened even more at those words; he shifted his hips and bit down, much less gently, on the crook of Justin's elbow. "Don't let me make this turn into a fuck," JC warned him, twisting again between his legs and wondering how Justin had the self-control to keep them essentially *separated* like this for so long. "You promised me slow. I want slow. And you promised me talking, I want that too. Just ... be careful, what you say."

"We're still doing slow," promised Justin. He unwrapped his legs from around JC and managed to turn JC around in his arms. "Put your legs around my waist," he told him, getting JC up onto his lap and wrapped around him, almost by feel alone. "There, oh hon, that feels good." He experimentally pulled JC against him, grinding their bodies together and letting his hands come to rest on JC's ass. "C ... what do I have to be careful of saying?"

JC couldn't respond for a moment, still reacting to having Justin's warm body between his thighs ... Justin's hard -- SO hard -- cock pressed against his own, almost fully-erect ... Justin's hands, hot and controlling and strong on his ass ... "You know," JC managed to get out, his voice hoarse. "You saw. What happened to me earlier, when you said ... those things. About ... falling ...? And ... yeah." He leaned back a little, then, exposing his neck: to try and breathe easier, and maybe to test a little how strongly Justin wanted to keep him there and just how *much* he could trust him to not let HIM fall -- literally or figuratively.

"I'll try not to scare you," promised Justin, brushing his lips over JC's chest before sucking JC's adam's apple. He kneaded the flesh of JC's ass for a moment, then began running his hands up and down his back. "I just want us to feel good and be happy, JC, that's all that this is about, really. I ... God ... you're SO fucking hot ... "

"It didn't *scare* me," JC protested, wanting to make sure that Justin KNEW that -- almost as much as he wanted to feel his teeth on the vulnerable skin of his neck. "It's ... I ... I don't know how to *respond*. And it fucking *overwhelms* me, and so I kind of ... panic." He rotated his hips slightly in Justin's lap, feeling the response immediately in Justin's groin -- and flushing again.

"I understand," said Justin simply, and he did. More or less. Understood what it was like to be absolutely overwhelmed by something that was happening. He nipped at the underside of JC's chin, then let his tongue trail along his jaw to his ear, nipping at that, lightly, too. He was going to make this last as long as he could, though he was beginning to feel the increasing need to actively DO something about his arousal. "You do amazing things, for me, C," he whispered. "Amazing things."

"Mmm, more," JC sighed, arching his back away from Justin's hands, causing them to fall back to his ass. He didn't know whether he meant more licking, or biting ... or more talking like *that*, the kind he figured Justin knew he wanted and needed all along. Hooking one arm around Justin's neck for leverage, JC shifted again against him: wrapping his calves around his back a little higher, gripping his torso with his knees a little tighter.

"Oh God," breathed Justin, closing his eyes, feeling a series of little sparks run through his body. His teeth sank into JC's shoulder as his breath hitched. His hands grabbed JC's ass again, as much to have something to hold onto as anything else. "I don't think I've ever wanted anyone, anyTHING, this much. Ever, JC. Not ever."

JC winced and moaned at that sensation on his shoulder, and grabbed Justin's hair a little roughly in return. "Ever?" he echoed, rocking back against Justin's cock, now nestled behind his ass. "It's a good thing you can have me, then." He whimpered and wondered how many times he could ask Justin to bite him without it being considered overkill. "To do some amazing things of your own, for example."

Justin sighed happily, licking at the bitemark as had become his pattern, before he moved on and did it again as JC rubbed against him, taking him higher. "I really want to be inside you," he murmured. "We'll take it slow. I promise."

"Are you waiting for me to ask you, again?" JC had to ask, softly. The endorphins from his arousal, and his already-jeopardized breathing, and the faint pain he was feeling every time Justin nipped at him, were just coursing through him. "Make love to me, baby boy," he told him, not waiting for a response. "KEEP making love to me, I mean. Do it slow, do it however you want ... you've already got me reeling." It occured to him that they don't have anything to use as lubricant ... nor do they have a condom ... but he didn't want to be the one to bring that up.

Justin released JC's ass, brought one finger up to his mouth and coated it liberally with saliva. "Good," he said, his voice low and starting to sound almost like a growl. He moved quickly back down to JC's ass, coated the rim of his hole with saliva, then slid his finger inside, as smoothly as he could. "Oh fuck you're tight," he moaned, thrusting a little bit inside him with his finger.

"R-really?" JC exhaled shakily, trying not to pull up from the intrusion just as much as he was trying not to buck back to get Justin's finger in deeper, either. He was vaguely surprised by that until he remembered that, as much as they'd fucked over the past week, JC found himself slipping into Justin *way* more frequently than the other way around. As he twitched, waiting for Justin to find his prostate, he vowed that would have to change.

Another person might have found this position awkward, but Justin was experienced at penetrating himself, and knew how to get the most of it from just about any angle. JC loosened up readily under his expert attention, and he was soon able to thrust with two fingers. For an agonizingly long time he deliberately avoided grazing JC's prostate, then suddenly thrust against it three times in rapid succession. His body was aching to be inside him, thrusting with his dick instead of his fingers, but right now he was doing what he knew, and trying to make JC feel as amazing as he did.

"Oh!" JC cried out, sounding suspiciously like he was in pain -- which he was, to an extent; the buildup from being taunted like that made the sensation of being so directly stimulated, so abruptly, almost intolerable. He squirmed in his lap, brushing back against Justin's erection in one direction, then trapping his own against the hard planes of Justin's upper stomach in the other. "I don't think ... I've ever told you this before," he breathed wryly, his breath hitching, before ducking his head and kissing Justin deeply. "But you have fucking *perfect* fingers."

"I've always enjoyed them," murmured Justin with a smile, his breath hot on JC's face. He brought his other hand down to his own erection, smoothed the precum over it. It's not a LOT of lubricant, by any means, but given how ready they both are, and how often they've both done this, it should be enough. "I'm going to go inside you now," he whispered against JC's lips. "Tell me now if you don't want that." He bit JC's lower lip lightly and continued thrusting his fingers inside JC's ass as he waited for a response.

"I never don't want that," was all JC could say to Justin, his eyes squeezing shut when he felt Justin's teeth on the sensitive skin of his lip. Not able to see what Justin was doing behind him, something in the back of his head was still screaming 'lubricant! condom!' but he pushed it away. "Just ... never." His own cock starts drooling, slightly, with the knowledge that Justin's fingers -- however perfect -- were about to be replaced by his warm, hard, and much MUCH bigger dick. Not for the first time, he was amazed at -- and turned on by -- how much strength Justin was demonstrating ... practically supporting all of JC's weight while JC clung to him desperately.

Justin slid his fingers out carefully and positioned his slick cock at JC's hole. He took a deep breath, gripped JC tightly, and slid inside in one slow, smooth thrust. He gasped when he was all the way in, kissed JC hard and nipped at his lower lip again. He wrapped his arms underneath JC's and gripped his shoulders from behind, both holding him close and holding him down with Justin's cock deep inside him.

JC predictably cried out again at the intrusion, and sucked in two breathless gasps before taking in some much-needed oxygen. He couldn't think beyond Justin's dick in his ass -- not even really registering Justin's attempts to kiss him -- and marveled at the way he could literally feel the pulse of the veins in Justin's cock contradict the throbbing of blood in his walls surrounding it. Eventually, the complete lack of any motion -- twisting or pumping or grinding -- allowed JC's head to clear enough for him to start worrying: there was no *way* Justin could thrust up into him from that position, but the grip he held on his shoulders was keeping JC from being able to ride him, too. Opening his eyes worriedly, he whimpered again.

Once Justin saw that JC had gotten used to him being inside, had become accustomed to the fullness, he slowly released his hold on JC's shoulders but left his hands there, for leverage. He thrust his hips upwards and watched for the telltale signs in JC's eyes that he was enjoying himself. "This is perfect," whispered Justin, his eyes locked with JC's and close enough that he could see him. "This is ... " His body shook a little bit with anticipation. "Just wow," he breathed.

JC could only nod mutely, keeping his eyes trained on Justin's as their bodies moved below. He couldn't remember if he'd ever really *watched* someone like this, and wondered if *that* was part of making love, too. His mouth parted a little in surprise when he felt Justin's cock push deeper into him, the shift in the angle triggering his prostate at the same time -- he has NO idea how Justin is managing to do that, to move his hips like that, but he adores him for it. "Is this ...?" he swallowed, and found his voice again. "Are you? Making love, to me?"

"Yeah," said Justin, a giddy grin suddenly crossing his face. He wished, in the back of his mind, that JC hadn't had to ask so often, that he'd just FEEL it, inside, the way Justin did, but it's just too good, too wonderful, to worry too much about that right now. He rotates his hips again, thrusting up a little. "You can ... move ... too ... " he suggested quietly as he -- just barely -- thrust.

"Oh," JC replied then, somewhat bashfully, a smile of his own mirroring Justin's. "I can ... tell. That you are." The look on his face when he gazed into Justin's eyes was almost reverent, and he had to force his body to do anything beyond just staring -- even though he did let one fingertip drift up to touch the lips Justin still has curled into a grin. The only way he COULD move, really, without untangling his legs from around Justin's torso, is by digging his heels into Justin's hips and using them as a brace to push from. He gave Justin another tentative smile, then reluctantly pulled away from the heat of Justin's groin.

Justin moaned softly, then held on tightly to JC, thrust back into him, and rolled them over quickly and smoothly so that JC was on the bottom, his legs wrapped around Justin's back. Justin breathed a sigh of relief, then pulled himself almost all the way out and thrust back inside, grazing JC's prostate firmly. "Better?" he whispered, his lips against JC's, their eyes still locked.

JC's mouth dropped open in -- basically -- shock, and he blinked rapidly. He was amazed at the way Justin seemed to reposition them so effortlessly, so smoothly ... and maybe more amazed that he actually *did* it. "Oh GOD, baby, yes," he blurted out, not caring what he called him, not likely to remember. Justin's angle was perfect, his arms still wrapped tightly around JC were perfect, the weight of his body pressing JC into the blanket was perfect. "Perfect," he moaned, and blinked again.

Justin began thrusting with long, even strokes into JC's body. He still wasn't completely confident when he did this, never quite sure if he was doing it as well as he could with his hands, but he wasn't worrying about that right then. He covered JC's face with tiny kisses and his throat with tiny bites as he drove into him. He didn't even argue with JC calling it 'perfect' ... he was thinking it was pretty perfect himself.

JC was letting out breathy little "oh"s each time Justin drove into him, the head of his cock razing against JC's prostate, the bulk of his body pinning JC to the ground. His arms flitted around Justin's back, resting lightly between his shoulderblades, then moving lower to cup his ass, until he brought them both up to frame Justin's face. He held Justin's head steady; not letting him kiss him anymore, not letting him duck down to attack his neck any longer .. held him steady to keep *watching* him. He needed to *see* Justin while he did this, and he needed Justin to see *him*.

Justin was practically nose to nose with JC, staring into his eyes, captured by him. He wasn't even consciously controlling his body anymore, not really. These motions were familiar enough, and their bodies seemed to be forming a rhythm just fine on their own without any intervention from their brains. His breathing became harsher, and still their gazes were locked.

"Are you?" JC asked again, swallowing several times, his eyes huge in his face. This was the important time, though: he was exposed and vulnerable to Justin in every way, and it was apparent in the way his hands shook as he cupped Justin's cheekbones. "Yes," whispered Justin, his eyes just as wide. His thrusts grew stronger. Faster. He'd wanted to make JC come first, but it didn't matter. This wasn't a challenge. It wasn't a game. "JC, I'm in love with you," he said, then thrust one last time and came. JC lifted his chin and kissed Justin, hard, as soon as the words were out of his mouth. He could feel Justin come inside him -- hot, and sticky, and more intimate than anything -- and held his breath. As soon as Justin was looking at him again, he shuddered and let his own orgasm rock his body and his soul. But he couldn't say a word. Justin refused to close his eyes, refused to break that gaze. He was silent, too, barely keeping his eyes from flooding as JC shuddered and came. He chewed on his own lip and waited for JC to say something. Anything.

Opening his mouth, JC looked like he was about to start speaking, but could only give Justin an apologetic look as he sucked in a wheezing breath. "That ... I ... " he tried, before tears of frustration pooled beneath his eyelashes. "I ... GOD, I can't ... can't breathe, Justin ..." Justin kissed him softly, then carefully rolled them over so that JC was on top of him. He was thankfully that there was a railing, and he wasn't in danger of rolling them off the balcony. "Shhh," he said softly. "It's okay, JC. It was wonderful."

JC nodded, and tried to sit up a little without Justin pulling out of him. He placed his hands behind his head and tried to take calming breaths, apologize with his eyes to Justin, and wipe away the tears streaming down his face, all at once.

"Shhh," said Justin again, then smiled at him. "Wow."

"What?" JC choked out, grabbing clumsily and a little frantically at Justin's shoulders. "What?"

"That was wonderful," said Justin, trying not to panic at JC's reaction. "You were wonderful."

"Please," JC cried, finally grabbing Justin's arms and hauling him up as far as he could. "I ... I NEED you ... " He bit his own lip and looked into Justin's eyes again, desperately hoping that he understood that for once HE needed to be held.

Justin kissed him, hard, and wrapped his arms around him, holding him close. "You have me," he whispered in his ear, his face pressed against JC's neck. "Shhh, it's okay, baby ... " JC kissed the top of Justin's head repeatedly, threading his fingers through his curls with one hand, the others digging into his back. "Baby boy," he breathed out, then sniffled. "Oh, my god ... that ... that was it, right? Right, Justin?"

Justin considered JC's reaction and smiled. "I think definitely yeah," he said, stroking his back soothingly.

"Definitely," JC repeated, as if he was testing the phrase. "I ... I wasn't sure how different it would be ... sex is sex ... " he babbled, still pressing his lips to Justin's hair. "But that ... that was ... " he coughed and sucked in another breath.

"Yeah," said Justin softly, kissing his neck. "It was."

"Yeah," JC repeated, then quieted, resting his chin on the top of Justin's head. He couldn't put into words what that was like for him, to think that he actually *felt* someone loving him, but ... apparently, Justin understood anyway.

Justin continued to stroke JC's back as they lay there. He was still -- barely -- inside his body, as well.

Letting his breathing slow, JC turned his head so his cheek was pressing into Justin's curls instead, and watched as a thin pink ribbon of sky appeared on the horizon. "Yeah," he said, a little more uncomfortably, wondering if Justin was waiting for something he was supposed to say, after that. "How are you feeling?" Justin whispered as he felt JC calming down. His hands roamed his skin more freely now. "Happy?" JC replied softly, uncertainly. "Sore. Scared, and exhausted, and whatever's a little less drastic than overwhelmed. Worried, about you, and ... special." He finished weakly. "I feel special. To you. Is that ... should I not?"

"You're very special," Justin told him easily. "And there's no right or wrong way to feel about this. As long as you FEEL, JC." He feels him shiver slightly. "You wanna go back inside, hon?"

"No," JC said slowly, shifting and wondering whether Justin wanted him to get up, and that was his subtle way of asking. "I just ... maybe we could stay out here, and ... um, watch the sun come up?"

"Oh," said Justin softly, his mouth falling open a little. "Oh wow, JC ... that would be wonderful ... "

"Really?" JC whispered uncertainly. "I couldn't tell if ... well, if you wanted to go back to sleep, or ... but. I'm glad. That you'll stay?"

"Of course!" said Justin, kissing his throat again. "You really thought I would want to go? Wherever you are, JC, that's where I want to be right now."

"Okay," JC said, his voice a little stronger. "Um. How are *you* feeling?" he asked, then; wincing a little that he hadn't thought to do it before.

"I'm feeling perfect," said Justin, moving away slightly so he could smile at him. "Okay," JC said again, smiling back a little tentatively, not sure if Justin was making a joke. Regardless, he was being a LOT less ... vocal than normal, after doing what they just did, and JC was getting more uncomfortable with each moment that passed. "Maybe I should ... " he started, touching Justin's cheek briefly then pulling even further back.

"Oh, JC," says Justin softly. "Don't go anywhere, okay? I'm still ... taking this all in." He smiles again and touches JC's face.

JC turned his head to kiss Justin's fingers, then settles back with a still-furrowed brow. "Are you sore?"

"Not that I've noticed," admitted Justin with a bit of a sheepish grin. "Can I just tell you that that was just about the most amazing thing I've ever done?"

JC smiled softly and tugged on Justin's ear gently. "I think you've said that after every time we've done that, baby boy."

"Every time we've done THAT," said Justin, "is exactly once. I hope it's not the last time, though ... " Shivering at the physical memory, JC nodded. Then he squirmed slightly, wondering if it felt strange to Justin to still be inside him when he wasn't hard any more, and then deciding that he would do something about it if it was.

Justin felt JC shiver and looks at him with concern. "You'd tell me if everything wasn't okay, right?"

JC nodded again, and then blushed guiltily. "I was just ... remembering. Certain things, about it. About what we just did. Hoping it wasn't the last time."

Justin grinned at him happily. "If you don't want it to be the last time, and I don't want it to be the last time, then it WON'T be the last time."

"Makes sense to me," JC told him, still a little unsure. Feeling like he would start frowning if he didn't *do* something, he leaned down to kiss Justin's lips again. "Hey," he murmured.

"Hey," Justin echoed him softly. "I like sunrise. It makes me feel ... like the world can be perfect, sometimes."

JC smiled tenderly and nuzzled Justin's nose. "That's ... sweet. I thought you might ... laugh at me, if I asked you to stay." "Have I ever done anything to make you think that?" asked Justin, looking into his eyes again. "Have I ever laughed?"

"No ... but have I ever *asked* you anything like that?" JC countered.

"I ... guess not," admitted Justin. "But I've always wanted you to," he added.

JC's smile turned a little sad. It didn't take long, he figured, for *something* to come up that he didn't do right. "I'm sorry," he ducked his head. "I'm glad I did this time, if that's any consolation." "Don't be sorry," said Justin quickly. "I wouldn't have wanted it before now, not really. Now is just ... right. You know?"

JC nodded, thinking that he had, but now not as sure. "Justin?" he started tentatively, shifting in his lap again. "You'd tell ME if everything wasn't okay, right?"

"Yeah, I would," said Justin honestly. "But ... everythign IS okay, right now. Everything just exactly how it should be."

JC nodded again, and buried his face in Justin's neck. "Justin?" he repeated. "You still seem a little ... not *distracted,* but ... I mean, are you with me, here?"

"Yeah," said Justin, tangling his fingers in JC's hair. "I feel like I'm all inside you. I don't mean just physically, I mean, just ... like I'm a part of your right now. Like you're an extension of me." He sighed. "That sounded strange, didn't it." "No," JC said softly, although he didn't quite know what Justin was talking about. He leaned down to kiss Justin again, sucking a little on his lip, then smiled at the way the early sun bathed Justin in pink light. "Can you see me, now?"

"More than I could before," said Justin with a smile. "You're still fuzzy, though." He reached up to touch JC's face again, as though convincing himself it was solid.

"You're beautiful," JC replied, pushing a stray curl off Justin's forehead. "I've never seen you look so ... just, beautiful," he shrugged. He wanted to say 'perfect,' or 'angelic,' but Justin hadn't responded well to that, lately, even though that's what JC meant.

Justin smiled. "Have I ever told you how it makes me feel, when you tell me I'm beautiful?"

JC shook his head and kissed Justin again. "How?" he pressed softly.

"Special," he said, kissing him back. "Important. Attractive. Um ... warm." He wanted to say loved, but didn't dare. "Well ... you are. All of those things," JC replied. "Especially 'special.' You're ... you mean a lot to me." He cringed a little, knowing how weak that sounded, and wondering why there wasn't a word for how he felt right then toward Justin.

"I'm glad," said Justin, taking what he could get, and gratefully. "I'm glad we're ... like this, now. I hate the fighting. It's so ... unnecessary."

JC had to choke down a giggle at that. "Um. Unnecessary? That's ... yeah. You're right." He kissed him again, shifting in his lap, and thought that chair looked pretty good right about then. "It's better when we don't."

"Yeah," agreed Justin. "Why do we do that, anyway?"

JC wasn't quite sure how *talking* about fighting was any better than fighting, but he played along. "I guess ... we're both self-conscious? And so one little misunderstanding just sparks something, and then I overreact, and then ... JC shrugged again, and rested his forehead on Justin's shoulder.

"So ... since why know why it happens," said Justin slowly. "Maybe we can keep it from happening again?"

"I don't TRY to fight with you," JC said, a little shortly. "Look ... Justin ... are you sure there isn't something I'm supposed to be saying, here? That you want me to be saying? 'Cause ... if everything is good right now, 'as it should be,' then I don't get why we're talking about this."

"Because I"m trying to KEEP it good," said Justin. "I'm trying to ... " he sighs. "Let's just .... " He turned his head towards the sunrise. He could only really see the glow of the sky, but even IT was beautiful.

JC bit his lip, staring at Justin's profile for a moment before leaning over to kiss his cheek. "Shhh," he murmured -- his turn to be soothing. "You don't have to work so hard."

Justin smiled a little. "It's how I am, I think," he confessed. "Can you live with that?" JC wondered how he could possibly say no, when he's well aware of what *Justin* has to live with, with him, that he wishes he didn't. "Then just try to relax right now, for me, okay? We're still ... afterglow-ing."

"Yeah," said Justin happily. "We are. You're so .... warm." And he hoped JC understood that Justin didn't mean just his body temperature.

JC flushed a bit at that, then turned HIS head to look at the sky. "So ... we're okay, then?"

"We're better than okay," said Justin. "We're good." JC turned back, smiled gently, and kissed Justin one last time before squirming again in his lap. "So ... how late can we sleep in, do you think?"

"PLEASE tell me we have nothing planned for today," said Justin, groaning a little.

"Hey," JC protested, knocking their foreheads together gently. "At least *you* slept."

"Not really," said Justin. "That's why I came looking for you ... remember?"

"Right," JC yawns. "Which you're NOT doing again without your glasses, right?"

"Right," said Justin. "Next time I'll just yell." He grinned at him and kissed his nose. You'll help me find my spare pair, in the morning? I'd hate to have to wear my contacts when I don't have to. They hurt." "Yes, baby boy, I'll help you find your spare pair," JC winced as he lowered his knees to the ground and disentagled himself from Justin's arms. "But not until the afternoon."

"Well, whenever we get up," amended Justin. "Thank you. Take me to bed?"

"Thank YOU," JC said softly and seriously, holding out his hands for Justin to take.

Justin reached out for his hands, able to make them out now in the morning light. And smiled.

--- JC turned the steak over again with the tongs and took another large swig from his beer before wiping his brow. It was hot on the balcony, especially with the heat from the grill, and he was flushed. And frustrated.

Joey had changed his tactics, it seemed. Instead of trying to molest JC when he was alone, or get him drunk and *then* molest him, he had actually started being ... seductive, again. Relying on the sweet-talking and neck rubs that got JC in the whole mess to begin with. And despite everything that had happened with Justin, JC was realizing that he was still susceptible to Joey's charms, his confidence. Which made him feel guilty. Which was why he was cooking dinner for Justin. AND why he was already drunk.

Justin came back into the house wearily. An afternoon shopping with his mother was somehow more exhausting then a whole day of interviews, and didn't have the adrenaline rush of doing a show. His eyes were burning from the contacts -- he'd been out in public, and his mother always insisted anyway -- and his body ached. He loved her, he really did, but the woman just drove him crazy sometimes. He was looking forward to snuggling down with JC and forgetting about the whole thing.

After cutting open the steak to see if it was done to his liking, JC put it on the platter he had brought out with him, and pulled the sliding glass door open with his foot while he balanced the food in one hand and his beer in the other. Everything was ready inside, he thought ... the table wasn't set, yet, but the bowls of lettuce were prepared for the steak salads, and the cheese and the dressing out, and the wine opened -- Justin didn't need to know it was the *second* bottle of wine JC had opened that evening. He threw away his empty beer and pulled out the cutting board and butcher knife.

"Hey," said Justin, taking off his shoes as he saw JC come in from the balcony -- he smiled when he thought of the balcony -- and go into the kitchen. "What are you up to, hon?" He sniffed the air. "Oh wow, that smells great, is that for us, or are the other guys here, too?" When his shoes were off, he made his way into the kitchen to join him.

"It's for us," JC told him, turning to look over his shoulder. "Well ... for you, actually. I mean, I cooked for you. Hot steak salads? You like those, right?" He faced the counter again, pausing with the knife, needing to concentrate on being careful while he sliced the meat. "Um, I have the bowls ready, but could you ... you mind getting the napkins and stuff?"

"Sure," said Justin easily, smiling at him. "How was your afternoon? What did you do?" He reached up onto the top shelf of the cupboard to pull down the napkins, brushing up against JC a little as he did.

"Fuck, OW!" Predictably, JC stumbled slightly when Justin appeared so abruptly next to him, and cut his finger on the sharp edge of the knife. He jumped back and stuck it into his mouth, muttering colorful and varied curses as he turned on the faucet to run it under water.

"Shit," said Justin in alarm, dropping the napkins on the counter and moving the knife out of the way before checking on JC's hand. "I'm sorry, are you okay?" Now that he was close enough to see him, to smell him, he could suddenly tell -- JC was drunk. His lips tightened but he didn't say anything, focusing on the cut. "Let me get you a bandaid."

"I don't need a band-aid," JC said dryly, hissing as the cool water stung the wound. "I'm not five. I just ... I just gotta wait for the bleeding to stop." He shrugged Justin off of him, probably a little irrationally and unfairly blaming him. "Fuck. Now everything is just gonna get cold ..."

"Yeah. Band-aids are for 5-years-olds. What the fuck ever, JC. Just let me take care of it, all right, before you hurt yourself again." He grabbed a napkin off the counter, then grabbed JC's wrist out of the water. "Just hold this tight around your finger. Liquor thins the blood, JC, the cold water isn't going to stop the bleeding."

"I know that; I was just rinsing it *out*, JUSTIN," JC snapped back, the 'liquor' comment nagging in the back of his brain and triggering every defensive impulse that wasn't *already* on edge. He winced when Justin wrapped the napkin a little too tightly against the cut. "Ouch. Look. I GOT it, okay? Just go ... set the table or something. I don't need your help."

"Yeah, you don't need ANYone, do you," said Justin turning away. "Thanks for, uh, dinner. But I can think of something I would have liked more." He stared at the table, then at JC. "Why?" he asked, sounding tired and sad. "Just ... why?"

"Why *what*," JC asked flatly, turning to finish cutting the meat, even more awkwardly now as he tried to keep the napkin out of the way. "And what the hell is wrong with this?" he complained, gesturing at the steak and the salad. "Look, I'm sorry it isn't fucking lobster and caviar, but it isn't burnt lasagna, either."

"You're drunk," said Justin softly. "I come home to you and you're fucking drunk. I just want to know WHY, JC. I thought things were going to get better now, after last night ... " He grunted, then sighed, turning back toward him. "I thought it meant something."

JC dropped the knife with a clatter and turned around to face Justin. "What the hell does one have to do with the other? So, what, I had something to drink before you got home ... wanna tell me why the *fuck* that suddenly means last night didn't mean anything?" He swirled around again and started throwing pieces of steak on top of the salads almost violently. "Thought it meant something," he mimicked under his breath. "I guess that's why you left me alone. AGAIN."

"What the fuck?" said Justin. "I spent a few hours with my mother, JC! What, I was supposed to bail on her -- again?" He sat down in a kitchen chair and literally FORCED himself to calm down. To not set JC off any further. "First of all, JC, you didn't just "have something to drink". You're drunk. And it takes a LOT to get YOU drunk. And second ... I just thought ... " He sighed. "I kinda thought you wouldn't be doing that anymore. With us, being what we are. That you wouldn't want it or need to."

JC threw one of the bowls down in front of Justin, and then grabbed him a knife and fork and set those down a little more gently. "What?" he asked tightly, grabbing two wine glasses from the rack and then pulling back on the napkin wrapped around his finger to check the bleeding. "I still don't ... what does me drinking have to do with ... " he trailed off, and frowned at Justin with some measure of realization. "Justin. You said ... you TOLD me this wasn't about trying to fucking *fix* me ..."

"I'm not trying to fix you," said Justin, resignation beginning to set in. "I just thought, you know, you had BETTER things now, than drinking. Because of last night, especially. But ... I guess not." He toyed with the fork, almost nervously. "Thank you for dinner. It's ... thank you."

"It's ... not what you wanted," JC filled in for him bitterly, not caring that the wine spilled over the edge of the glasses as he poured it too quickly. "Eat it, don't eat it ... I don't even care, now. Since, apparently, it's not worth shit as an indicator of how much 'last night' did or did not mean to me."

"What I WANTED was to come home to find my boyfriend SOBER for once," Justin blurted out. "Dinner's fine. Dinner's great. Fuck, I DO appreciate it. There are just, you know, more important things than DINNER, you know?" He looked over at JC, who wasn't even looking in his direction, and sighed. Again. "This isn't how I imagined tonight going."

"Your ... what?" JC said quietly. His mind started spinning with what he heard Justin say -- with what last night established to HIM, obviously -- that he didn't even hear anything Justin said beyond that. He took a deep drink from his wineglass. He had enjoyed last night more than he expected ... and the morning after, for that matter ... but to him it didn't imply the sort of change in the relationship that Justin was alluding to. And that was cause for concern.

"What?" said Justin, frowning, watching him. "My fucking BOYFRIEND, JC. Or ... is that not what we are ... " He looked down at the table when JC didn't answer right away, then stood up. "I think I need to go."

"No," JC said firmly, setting his glass down on the table and pushing Justin back down into his chair with his other hand. For all that Justin complained to JC about getting up and leaving him all the time, Justin did his fair share of it too. Or at least threatening it. And if that was REALLY what Justin thought JC meant by asking him to make love to him the night before, they both had some explaining to do. "Sit. Talk. What?"

"I don't know what you're asking me," said Justin, a little bitterly. "Look, are you just fucking with me here? Because last night was something REALLY fucking special to me, and if it WASN'T to you, then why the fuck did we do it?"

"What do you mean, you don't know what I'm asking you?" JC snapped back. "I want to know what the hell's going on with you. You know last night was ... special to me; you *know* that. But ... 'boyfriend,' Justin? We *never* talked about that ... and we've already had the 'label' fight too many times to count ..."

"Well, what the fuck am I SUPPOSED to call you?" asked Justin, frustrated and hurt. "I thought we ... were. And I figured it would be better than LOVERS or something. What's so fucking scary about being my boyfriend, anyway?"

"Nothing," JC replied quickly, thinking to himself that it was, at least, better than 'lover' ... if only marginally. "That's not ... look, why do you have to 'call' me anything? You said I'd just be ... be 'your JC,' that's what you said ... what happened to that?"

"You're STILL that," said Justin, looking down. His eyes were flooding and he didn't want JC to see, didn't want JC to have that kind of ammunition against him right now. "I just ... forget it. It doesn't matter, okay? Let's just eat our fucking dinner, okay? I know you went to a lot of trouble."

JC started pulling at his cut, not really hungry, and knowing he wouldn't enjoy it at that point anyway ... especially since Justin seemed to think all he wanted was to get credit for it. "I don't care about that," he said a little more evenly. "I just ... will you just *talk* to me? Explain to me what you're thinking? And ... god, can't you *look* at me, either?"

Justin looks up, tears spilling out of his eyes. "Why? So you can make fun of me? Screw that." He looks down again before he can bitterly suggest that JC go back to screwing Joey, since all he seems to want is a fuck-buddy anyway. "And fuck you if you can't go one day without drinking. THAT'S what I'm thinking. That every time I so much as leave this house or even go to SLEEP you go on some fucking binge ... "

"I'm not on a goddamned *binge*," JC spit back, scared as always at the sight of tears in Justin's eyes, and feeling absolutely awful for obviously not handling the 'boyfriend' issue with any tact at all ... both things making him even more defensive. "But for shit's sake, you *knew* I drank, Justin. You *know* I do. It's part of who I am, and ... I'm comfortable with that. You said you wanted to be with me despite it -- and I fucking *listened* to you -- so you better NOT fucking tell me this is all about you trying to get me to stop. 'Cause I gotta say ... one night of screwing out on that balcony won't do it."

Justin just stared at him in disbelief for a moment. "We didn't ... " He began, his voice barely there. "You just ... " He didn't even know what to say, but that certainly did NOTHING to stop the flow of tears. He wanted to scream or throw things or SOMEthing, but he didn't. Couldn't. "I'm not just someone to screw," he finally gets out. "So FUCK you. I'm leaving."

The despair on Justin's face got through to JC, who finally realized what he said ... and because he knew all to well what it was like to feel that way, immediately tried to take it back. "Oh. Oh, Justin, don't ... please don't. I didn't mean that, and of *course* you're not ... I'm sorry, please ... "

"It's funny, how people say what they REALLY mean, in the heat of the moment ... " said Justin softly. "Why would you ... ? When you KNEW what it meant to me .. " Justin had to look away again. "I only thought that you wanted to be with me more than you wanted to drink. I didn't realize ... that's what I was ... "

"It's NOT," JC insisted again. "You aren't; I *promise* you aren't ... and, god, you HAVE to know I didn't mean to call what we did last night 'screwing.' Justin. C'mon." He reached over to try and touch his knee. "I *do* want to be with you. I know you know that. And it doesn't have anything to do with drinking, except ... when I *can't* be with you."

"I was only gone for about four hours," said Justin, shaking his head. "But whatever." He sat back down, toyed with the stem of his wine glass, running his fingers up and down it. "You ever notice we pretty much only fight when you're drunk, or recovering from it?"

JC breathed a sigh of relief when it appeared that he wouldn't have to beg too much after all. "Is that so?" he asked mildly, not really concerned enough to actually consider whether he agreed or not. "That still doesn't mean that me drinking has anything to do with you, usually. Remember, we talked about how fucked up each of our coping mechanisms are?"

"What the fuck are you COPING with, that's my question," muttered Justin. "Things were good, then THIS, and it's like you either missed the whole point, or you just don't care. You TELL me I'm not just a screw, but you sure as hell don't act like it much. You never know what's IMPORTANT."

JC stared at Justin hard for a minute. "I suppose you can enlighten me on that, on what's important? Since I obviously have no clue. And while you're at it ... tell me how else can I 'act like' you're not just some random fuck to me, since missing you all fucking day isn't doing it ... or cooking you dinner or staying up all night or having to ... "

"Having to WHAT, exactly?" snapped Justin. "You didn't seem to MISS me much, JC. There were certainly enough bottles available to replace me."

JC knew -- KNEW -- it would be a bad idea to bring up Joey. Justin was way too unstable at the moment over the drinking to add to it. So instead of finishing the thought -- 'having to turn Joey down' -- he changed what he was going to say. "Just ... having to be alone. And drinking doesn't *replace* you, Justin, I just ... look. Really. How am I supposed to show you that you're not just a screw? I mean ... besides managing to not be an asshole and *tell* you that's what you were, next time."

The phrase that JC used is still haunting Justin, the easy and natural way that it just came out of him, like that's what he'd been thinking all along. "If 'one night of screwing on the balcony' isn't enough to make you quit, then what is? Or ... just fucking cut BACK once in a while. This isn't me trying to fix you, this is me trying to make US work. if you even fucking want that."

"What are you telling me?" JC said stiffly, and couldn't help taking another drink from his wine. "What ... are you saying that you don't want to do this, anymore, if I don't 'cut back'?"

"No," sighed Justin, "that's not what I'm fucking saying. I'm saying I'm tired of feeling like a fucking loser, wanting you the way I do and you throwing that back in my face. The way you just fucking treat me like a dog cause you KNOW I'll come running back. Because I AM in love with you. Don't fucking take advantage of that this way."

"I -- I'm NOT!" JC insisted, looking at Justin in surprise, and cursing the smile he couldn't quite keep from his face at Justin saying he was in love with him -- even if it was said reluctantly. "God, Justin, I'm *sorry* for what I said to you, about last night. I *didn't* mean it ... it was really nice, and ... I can't believe you think I take advantage of you. Is that ... how can you *say* that? I do so much more for you than I've *ever* done for ANYone."

"When I left this afternoon, everything was wonderful," said Justin evenly. "When I got back, you were drunk and nasty to me. What the fuck happened in between? I'd just as soon ELIMINATE the use of fighting as foreplay in our relationship, if you wouldn't mind. And don't fucking flip out about me calling it a relationship, either. It IS. Deal with that."

"Okay," JC replied, sitting back in his chair, feeling suitably rebuked. "But ... Justin, I wasn't nasty to you when you got back. I'm sorry if I might have snapped, or whatever, when I cut my finger, but ... we didn't start fighting until you got on my case about drinking. You can't ... it's not fair to blame this all on me."

"I got on your case because the drinking was making you distant and snappish," said Justin. "Do you LIKE it when you're this way? Because it certainly made ME feel like I'd come home to a different fucking person. Instead of the person I'd HOPED to see after enduring an afternoon with my mother." He sighed, reminded himself of his promise to himself. Which had been easy to ignore, in his hurt and anger. "I wanted a little comfort, not a fight. Not something I would have to DEAL with."

JC still didn't think that was the order it had gone ... Justin had mentioned something about the drinking before JC had practically said *anything*, but he wasn't going to pursue it. "I'm sorry," he said again, a little weakly. "Sorry that your afternoon wasn't good, either ... what can I do, to make it better?"

Justin sighed. "I don't know, anymore," he admitted. "Everything's just kind of crummy all around. I guess we could ... eat dinner. You did a really good job, JC. I was really excited to smell it, when I came in. Can I ask you, um, not to play with knives when you're drunk, though? It's too hard on my nerves."

"Sure," JC replied tightly, wondering why Justin insisted on treating him like a child sometimes, and why he couldn't just let the stuff with the drinking GO, already. He stood back up to get his own salad off the counter and the napkins Justin had dropped. "I just hope you like it." He sat back down and started picking at his food. "Did you ... maybe want to tell me why you had a bad day?"

"It's just my mother," said Justin, staring at the salad. He isn't hungry anymore, not after that fight, but he doesn't want to hurt JC's feelings. And it DOES look good. "You know how she is. Everything's all about appearances to her. Her son's gotta look and act perfect when he's out in public with her. I mean, she's my MOTHER and all, and I love her, but she drives me nuts."

"I know that must be hard, Justin," JC told him softly, sucking his injured finger into his mouth when the bleeding started back up for some reason. "But she loves you, no matter what ... she might not get as bent out of shape as you think, if you just be yourself." He stared at Justin for moment from under his eyelashes, watching him NOT eat his dinner. "Is that why you've got your contacts in, baby boy?"

Justin nodded. "Would I subject myself to this for any other reason, especially after making you find my glasses this morning?" he asked, somewhat rhetorically. "I wish you were right about her, C, but she hasn't changed. Not at all. I went to pick up her and a friend of hers at a retirement home a couple weeks ago and I wore my glasses and a ripped sweatshirt and she just about flipped. I'm thinking it's a retirement home, no one's gonna fucking recognize me, but she was all, like, 'What will people THINK?" He sighed again. "All about the image, for her." He picked up his fork and played with the salad, then looked up for a moment. "Your finger hurt, hon? Maybe I should have gotten you that band-aid after all ... "

JC dropped his hand to his lap quickly, surprised that he had been caught like that, and even more shocked that Justin was already back to calling him 'hon'. "No, it's ... fine. Look ... you obviously don't want to eat that; you don't have to sit here and pretend. Why don't you go take out your contacts, put your glasses on and give your eyes a rest? I can ... order you a pizza. Or something."

Justin shook his head. "It's not that," he said apologetically. "It looks wonderful. I just ... my stomach's all nervous right now, C. I need it to calm down a little before I can eat anything." He takes a small bite, more to appease JC than from any real need. "But thanks. For offering."

"What's wrong with your stomach?" JC asked, looking at Justin closely. He knows he shouldn't be talking, since he's not eating either, but he *knows* why HE isn't hungry. "Seriously, Justin, don't make yourself sick ... I can wrap all this up and you can have it later." He got up and wrapped the napkin around his finger again, then grabbed his almost-empty glass and his bowl and took them over to the counter.

"From fighting," said Justin succinctly, pushing the bowl away. "Why don't we BOTH eat later, C? I think I'm going to go take your advice on the contacts. I would have when I got home, but ... I wanted to see you first ... "

JC nodded almost indifferently, his back still facing Justin. "Okay. You remember where I put your glasses, right?" He dumped the contents of his bowl and all the leftover lettuce into some tupperware, then crouched down to try to find some aluminum foil to wrap the extra steak in. "And ... I got you some more eyedrops today, you were running low. They're in a bag in the bathroom." He shoved the foil back in the cabinet a little roughly, then let the door slam shut.

"You did?" said Justin, more than a little surprised. "I ... thank you. That's really cool, C. Um ... I'll be RIGHT back, okay? Don't go anywhere." Now that the storm had passed he really wanted to talk about it again, figure out what the hell had happened THIS time. Maybe figure out what JC thought they had going that was so different from what JUSTIN thought they had going.

JC bit his lip and shrugged, hurt but feeling like he shouldn't be surprised at the way Justin seemed completely caught off guard by JC doing something for him. "I'll be here," is all he said, keeping his voice even, eying the bottle of wine and just waiting for Justin to leave so he wouldn't have to be so blatant about refilling his glass.

Justin was back a few minutes later, relieved to be wearing his glasses again as well as a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. "That's better," he said aloud, sitting back down at the table. Look ... we've gotta stop doing that. We've gotta figure this out, JC. Because I don't know about you, but I think getting hurt every day is just NOT cool ... "

JC was perched on top of the counter, all the dishes cleared and put away, sipping slowly at his drink. "Okay," he said blandly, resigned to waiting to hear Justin's latest ultimatum before contemplating, again, if it was worth it.

"What was last night, to you? Really?" Justin asked, watching JC's reaction as much as he listened to his words. "What did it mean to you? Did it change ANYthing?"

JC met Justin's eyes over the rim of his wineglass. "That was the first time I'd ever had someone ... make love to me. But ... beyond that, it was the first time I'd *asked* someone to do it, Justin." He paused as he took a drink. "It was ... there was just *nothing* wrong with it, you know? It felt really good, and ... right. So I guess that's why I don't understand what it was supposed to *change*."

Justin sighed and shrugged. "Nothing, I guess. I thought maybe it would change your feelings for me, a little, but I guess not. I mean ... that wasn't what I was trying to do, JC. I just ... I wanted to make love to you. Period. But it's really hard to go back to our old patterns now, knowing what we CAN have, if we both want it enough ... "

JC took another drink and looked at Justin curiously. "Why would you ... why would doing that make me change how I felt? I mean, the only reason I asked for it in the first place was *because* of how I felt, and ... and because of how you said you felt about ME. Why would that change?" He frowned a little. "And what do you mean, 'knowing what we CAN have'? What's ... what's wrong with what we DO have?" "What do you MEAN 'what's wrong with what we have'?" asked Justin incredulously. "JC ... we spend half our time fighting or trying to hurt one another or ... fucking. Just FUCKING, like you said. And then last night we made love, for the first time. Just totally enjoyed ourselves, totally lost ourselves. And it was fucking amazing JC. I want that all the time now. But what you're telling me is, what, that it was a one time only thing? That we're just going to go back to the way things were?"

"No," JC tried to reassure him. "No, that's not what ... " He put his glass down, and started rubbing his palms down his thighs nervously. "I don't *know* if we'll have that all the time, I just ... thought we'd do both, maybe, and ... " It hadn't occured to JC that Justin was that upset over what they'd been doing together, the time they'd spent together, and he had to wonder *why* it bothered him so much. "Justin, you have to know I never *try* to hurt you, intentionally ... I think it just ... happens."

"Well, we aren't exactly doing anything to STOP it from happening, now, are we," said Justin somewhat bitterly. "Both is fine, JC. I mean, yeah, sometimes you just wanna FUCK, hard and fast, no strings attached ... but I guess ... " He stopped there and examined JC for a moment. "Look, I'm just being stupid about this because I'm in love with you and I keep thinking that things inside are the same for you as for me. And I know they're not. So ... sorry. I should just let it go."

JC grabbed at the collar of his shirt, tugging on it slightly, and swallowed several times. His chest felt tight like it *always* did when Justin said that, about being in love ... but even moreso because one of his biggest fears about ever getting into this with Justin was being realized. "Is ... is that what we did last night meant to you? Is that what you *wanted* from it, Justin? From me?"

"Yeah ... maybe ... " admitted Justin. "But wanted and EXPECTED are two entirely different things, JC. And I certainly never expected that. I still don't. So ... breathe, or something." Justin looked away, felt the same sadness he always did when he realized how much being in a real relationship with him was something JC just would NEVER want. He should never have mentioned 'love', he knows that now. All it did was fuck things up.

"Justin," JC exhaled, resting his hands on the counter beside him and trying not to let the *defeat* in Justin's voice affect him too much, but pretty much powerless to do anything to make it disappear. "I'm ... sorry. I thought you did it because of the way you felt about me, I didn't know that you ... I'm just sorry. I won't ask you to, again."

"Look ... I did, okay?" said Justin, looking up at him and fighting his tears this time. "And I'd do it again in a second, knowing what I know. But I ... I have to go now, okay, JC? I HAVE to go ... " He stumbled up out of his chair, staring at the floor again, and started for the door. THIS is why he should never have started this. He'd thought that taking what he could would be enough for him ... but it wasn't, not anymore. Fucking complications. He should have trusted his instincts.

JC thought about just letting him go: getting out of the whole mess while he still could, grabbing some whiskey, finding Joey and touching his arm purposefully. But then he remembered what last night felt like wrapped up in Justin's warmth ... what *today* had felt like, missing him more desperately than ever ... and he jumped off the counter and grabbed Justin from behind. "Stop," he said firmly. "Just ... stop. We've been ... together ... for a week. A *week*, Justin. And *already* we've been more to each other than ... I've ever shared with anyone. So I don't tell you I love you? I don't even think I do? You should be fucking *happy* about that."

"Let go of me," said Justin in a low voice. "Just let me go, JC. We both know that's what you want. My problem ... isn't that you don't love me. That's not such a fucking surprise, you know. My problem is that you don't WANT to love me. Fine. Let's just both get out while we still can, okay?" He just about ripped out his OWN heart, saying that, but it felt like self-preservation more than anything.

The way Justin's words mirrored JC's own thoughts made him even more stubborn. "No," he said, not squeezing any tighter but resting his chin on Justin's back. "You don't know what I want. You *don't*. And you're not being FAIR to me. I shouldn't have to be *worrying* about love, yet -- wanting it, feeling it, reciprocating it ... fuck, even *receiving* it. You *see* what that does to me. But I'm not running from *you*."

Justin turned around to face him. "Love isn't something to worry about. THAT'S the root of the fucking problem, JC. Between the two of us wanting different things ... it got fucking complicated. I've learned a lot over the past week. Thank you. But what I've REALLY learned is that I DON'T want just a fuck buddy. Sex isn't simple. I could never be what the rest of you guys are, because it's too fucking special to me. And don't you give me that fucking look that says I'm being a fucking GIRL, JC. I won't be ashamed of what I want or how I feel. And I won't fucking hide it anymore, either. So if that's something you don't want to deal with, just tell me now."

JC was forced to take a step backwards at the vehement way Justin was talking. "That is *not* how I've treated you," he said shakily. "Not since ... it just *isn't*. I've been patient and accomodating and ... and *patient* ... and I let you *in*. And tried to do what you asked me to, even if it replaced things that I do so much they're fucking *habit*, and I tried to do *other* things for you, even if they were only little things, and ... " He bit his lip. "Don't hide what you feel. I never asked you to. Is that what I'm supposed to *deal* with?"

"I think," said Justin, "there's only one habit -- besides fucking Joey -- that I REALLY wanted you to break. And ... you haven't done the slightest thing about THAT one. Look ... don't think that I don't appreciate everything you've done for me, and don't think I have any regrets, but if this -- us -- is never going to GO anywhere because you don't want it to ... then I can't do this anymore. I'm better off alone. I can't break my OWN heart, after all."

JC shoved his hands in his pockets and dropped his head. Justin just didn't seem to *understand*, or *care*, how different this was for JC. They were both flying blind, but Justin had the benefit of ... well, at least months of knowing how he felt to fall back on. And it was precisely *because* he didn't want to break Justin's heart that JC *hadn't* told him he'd love him eventually. JC didn't have to live hand-to-mouth, but he DID have to live day-to-day. "Justin ... " he started softly. "You'll do what you have to do. I've always respected that about you. And ... that's all I can really say."

"I don't want this to end," said Justin softly, "but I have to go now before I totally break down in front of you. I'll ... be back, okay. I just need to ... " Justin gestured at the door and looked down. He didn't flee, just yet, but he was about to. "I'm sorry you don't ... that we couldn't ... " He sighed. "I'm sure Joey'll be just thrilled to have you back, anyway. I'm sorry I couldn't be what you wanted, C."

"It's painfully obvious to me," JC whispered back, knowing he was going to be left alone -- again -- "that it's really the other way around."

"You could be," said Justin, his voice weak. "You could be ... if you wanted it." He takes a step, then stops. "Fuck. I can't do this. It hurts too fucking MUCH, JC."

"Which?" JC asked, digging his hands in his pockets deeper. "Trying to put up with me ... or leaving me alone?"

"BOTH," says Justin shakily. "What the fuck am I supposed to DO?"

JC just stared back at him, eyes big, knowing that he couldn't say much to make him stay that wouldn't be something he just *wasn't* ready to say, yet. "Whichever hurts you least," he said simply, knowing that he'd have to deal with whatever choice Justin made, and knowing it WAS his choice.

Justin crumpled to the floor and pressed his face to his knees without saying a word. What the FUCK was he supposed to do here. He COULDN'T be the one to end this ... but he couldn't live with it knowing he was 'just' anything to JC. For good. That he would never be THE person he wanted. The THING he wanted. The most important thing. It was an impossible choice, right then.

JC watched Justin collapse, attempting to be dispassionate, realizing that he should let him go. That lasted all of thirty seconds before he sat down on the floor heavily, wrapping his body around Justin's the exact same way Justin's had been around HIS the night before. It's JC's touch that made up Justin's mind for him. "I can't leave you," he said quietly, his voice still painfully shaky. "I ... can't."

JC kissed the back of his neck. "I know," he sighed sadly. "I can't let myself make it easy for you to."

"But it hurts so much to say, and to have you not ... it just hurts."

"I know," JC breathed again. "It hurts to *hear*, and to have me ... not. Please, just ... tell me you understand why I won't say it before it's true...?"

"I don't WANT you to say it. Don't you understand that? But I want it to be ... possible. I need to know that it's POSSIBLE, one day."

"Justin," JC said evenly, "I never, ever said I'd never ... love you. *You* did." He *did* try to dissuade Justin from starting it, because he *wasn't* sure he'd ever get there, but he never ruled it out ... even in his own head.

"You make it sound like some rare disease that you MIGHT catch ... but it's not likely." Justin sighed again. His voice was still a little muffled, and he didn't look up. JC bit his tongue, and then placed another soft kiss on the skin behind Justin's ear. "Do you want me to give you odds, or something?" He had no idea what else to SAY, beyond the fact that it was possible -- which was all Justin had asked for.

Justin shook his head. "I still don't know how to do this. I don't know HOW. Do you?"

"How to do what, baby boy," JC asked softly. "How to care for someone who may not feel as strongly as you do, yet?" He smiled bitterly, thinking of Joey -- knowing Justin couldn't see it. "Apparently, I don't."

"How to make this work without killing us one another," said Justin, letting out a sound that almost resembled a chuckle. "Without feeling hurt all the fucking time."

"It's really that bad?" JC asked almost inaudibly. "There's ... I don't do anything, that doesn't hurt you?"

"Even the good stuff," said Justin. "Even the GREAT stuff ... after, I remember that you don't ... so yeah. I dunno. It's like ... sometimes loving you hurts, too." JC nodded, his eyes burning. "Then no," he said simply. "I don't know how to do this. And ... I really ... shouldn't let us try." With one lingering kiss to the side of Justin's throat, JC scrambled to his feet.

Justin started sobbing into his knees the moment JC got up. Silently, though, more or less. The only signs were the rise and fall of his back as he heaved for breath and the tiny sniffles he made every so often. The choice had been taken away from him ... and it wasn't the choice he wanted to make, after all.

JC watched him for a moment, knowing that he should have trusted *his* instincts, and never done this to Justin. He stepped over to the counter, grabbed the wine bottle, and slammed the sliding glass door to the balcony shut behind him.

Justin couldn't even get up off the floor for a long time, clutching his legs, letting his hot tears fall against them. He couldn't breathe, and it wasn't just because of the tears. JC was gone, and with him, the only chance Justin would ever have to be with someone. And he hadn't realized how much he really wanted it, until it was gone. --- JC hitched up his pants, and stood in front of Justin's bedroom door -- which was always, always closed, now -- nervously. His palms on the carefully wrapped package were sweaty, and he had to take a deep breath before knocking. And had to try very hard to NOT think about how, a few days earlier, he wouldn't have had to knock.

"What?" called out Justin, impatiently, lowering the volume on the television. Whoever it was was lucky they hadn't knocked about 15 minutes ago. He wouldn't have answered the door, then.

"Justin?" JC replied loudly, wishing he had the balls to just open the door and peek his head around. "It's ... JC. Can I come in?"

Justin paused, then groaned and got up off the bed, reluctantly. "No," he said, rolling his eyes, right before opening the door for him.

"Wha -- oh." JC furrowed his brow, then offered Justin a weak smile, squeezing past him into the disheveled room. "Hey. I just wanted ... happy birthday, man."

"Thanks," said Justin without inflection, staring at the present. "Is that ... " He sighed and gestured toward the bed, walking a little stiffly as he headed for it himself. "Come sit down, then."

JC bit the inside of his cheek as he watched Justin walk uncomfortably ahead of him, wanting to know but not wanting to ask. "Yeah, it's not ... " -- JC holds the gift out awkwardly, shrugging -- "not much, but. Um. How ... are you?" "I'm alive," said Justin. "That about sums it up. You?" He sat down on the edge of the bed and stared at him expectantly.

"Okay," JC replied softly, his arm wavering as he continued to hold the present out for Justin to take, if he would. "I started writing a new song, and ... that's pretty much what I've been doing." Justin sighed again, and reached out to take the present. "Why are you here?" he asked, setting it down next to him. "Don't you know ... never mind." He looked away, and when he looked back again his expression was carefully neutral.

A brief pained look crossed JC's face, and he shifted awkwardly on his feet. "I just ... aren't you going to open that?" He tried to keep all anxiousness out of his voice, not wanting to color Justin's reaction to it when he opened it. *IF* he opened it.

"Now?" said Justin, picking it up again. "I could. I guess. Is this my answer, or something?"

"Your answer?" JC echoed. "You mean, why I'm here?" He bit his cheek again. "Typically, people give other people presents on their birthday, yes. Do I need another reason?"

"To come see me? Yeah, kinda. You made it pretty clear you don't want to see me, JC." He picked at the wrapping paper.

JC sat down on the floor at the foot of the bed heavily. "Just open it."

Justin stared at him for a long moment, then opened the package quickly and without ceremony. JC held his breath as Justin pulled the paper away from the soft leather of the album cover, watched his face carefully as he began flipping through the pages slowly. Each sheet of thick parchment had a single black-and-white photograph of Justin dry-mounted on it. JC had taken all of them, over the past year: and all of them had Justin wearing glasses.

Justin smiled a little. "I ... thank you." It was all he could think to say, at first. "Did you ... ?"

JC nodded shyly, and couldn't quite contain his eagerness as he leaned forward to flip the pages for Justin. "Here. That." He pointed to the last one in the book: Justin grinning at something off camera, with Chris and Lance grinning at Justin in the background. "That's my favorite."

"I ... don't know what to say," said Justin, staring at it. "You think I look good there? Or ... is there something else you like about it?"

JC's smile faltered a little. "Well ... yeah. Both. You look great, and ... well, happy. And those two can't take their eyes off you. It's ... " he trailed off, wondered if the point he was trying to make was going to be lost on Justin, just because of what had happened between them. "Nevermind." He tried to close the cover of the album. Justin holds it open. "Keep talking," he said, a little more receptively than before.

JC swallowed. "It's just ... the whole thing ... it's supposed to show you what we see when we look at you. Not fucking airbrushed, with colored contacts, but ... just you. That's ... how you look to us. To me. It's how you look, to me. It's stupid." "It's not stupid," breathed Justin. "It's ... " He grinned a little, in amazement. "It's the best gift I can remember ever getting, JC. That's ... you like ME ... " His smile faded a little, remembering again why they haven't spoken in a couple days.

"Well." JC stood up awkwardly, hesitantly, wondering how long it would take for Justin to throw him out. "I just ... I'm glad you like it. Happy Birthday. Really."

"Why did you do this for me?" asked Justin, still looking at the album in wonder.

JC sat precariously on the edge of the bed, as far from Justin as he could. "Um. I ... well, I had all those pictures. I hadn't even *realized* how many I had, and ... I didn't know what to get you, until ... remember? We had that conversation, about ...?" JC trailed off, and looked down at his hands. "Anyway. So something you said to me, made me think maybe it was a good idea. That's all."

"The conversation about my mom?" asked Justin. "Or did I say something else?" I ... know I talk about it sometimes ... " He looks at it again. "I don't know what I said, but I'm glad." "No," JC said softly, shifting like he was going to stand up again. HE remembered the conversation vividly, but they had been in bed at the time, and he's not terribly surprised Justin's blocked it out. He had said that he didn't think he was as good-looking as he used to be, or people wanted him to be ... and JC had told him that he was so hot that the rest of them could get hard just looking at him. "Not your mom," he said simply. "It's ... well. Enjoy it."

"I am," said Justin. "Wow. Those two ... they're just, like, LOOKING at me. I wonder why. Do you remember?" He was still staring at the photograph, not looking up at JC.

"Justin," JC said hesitantly, rubbing his forehead. "That's ... they just ARE. They do it all the time. You're ... it's hard *not* to look at you." He took a deep breath and curled his finger under Justin's chin, forcing him to look at JC. "I'm quite sure that, if I hadn't been taking the pictures ... they'd probably all have me in them. Looking just like that."

"Then why didn't we work?" asked Justin softly, even though he knew a dozen answers to that question. His eyes were locked on JC, now.

"Because that only went one way," JC whispered, glancing away and letting go of Justin's face. "It didn't make you smile to look at ME. It *hurt* you. So." "Then you didn't understand," said Justin quietly, still looking at him. "Because it DID make me smile to look at you. Even to THINK about you. It ... still does, when I can ignore the pain."

That was almost worse than Justin agreeing with him, JC figured, and this time he did stand up. "I shouldn'tve ... I bothered you. I'll just ... let you get back to whatever you were doing."

"Don't go," said Justin, surprising himself. "I want to ... can we talk?"

JC nodded warily, and resumed his seat on the floor. "It's about you," he said then.

"What?" said Justin, startled. "What do you mean?"

"The song," JC clarified, picking at the rug. "I've been ... it's been coming easily. It's not terribly ... upbeat, though."

"About me?" repeated Justin. "Why? I mean ... " It was almost too hard to ask.

JC grinned ruefully. "Don't. You *know* why." The smile faded from his face fairly quickly. "Oh, god, baby boy. Will you hate me more if I tell you I've missed you?" Justin's resolve crumbled when he heard JC call him 'baby boy' again. "Oh fuck, JC, I missed you. Why did you LEAVE me?"

JC's throat tightened. "You didn't ... you don't know what you looked like, Justin. Completely beaten down, and ALL because of me, and ... FUCK, what you SAID ..."

"I said I learned a lot over the week I was with you," said Justin softly. "Well ... I've learned something more over the last couple of days."

JC closed his eyes, steeled himself. Wondered again if it would be better if it was something good, or something bad. "Do you want to tell me?" he asked.

Justin sighed. "I learned that the hurt's worth it." He paused, looked at JC and wished he was looking back. "As long as both people want to try."

JC's eyes clenched shut tighter. "I don't WANT it to be worth it. I don't WANT there to be hurt at all."

"It's not that EASY," said Justin. "You know that as well as I do. But ... is it WORTH it, to you?"

"I'm not worried about me!" JC cries softly. "I can't DO that to you again, Justin. I Just CAN'T." "What about what *I* want?" asked Justin. "Does that matter?" JC stared at him. "Yes," he said simply, knowing that even if Justin insisted he wanted to be with JC again, JC couldn't do it unless Justin had revised his feelings on what had happened more than it seemed he had.

"Then ... what's going on here?" asked Justin. "If you came here just to pick at old wounds then go. Now. But if you came here to maybe talk THROUGH this, then I'm gonna need some more verbose answers."

"I didn't come here for either of those things," JC reminded him, gesturing at the album laying forgotten on the bed. "But if you're giving me a *chance* to work through this, to figure out some way that I don't have to fucking miss you so bad it's giving me *cramps*, then ... ask your questions. I'll fucking filibuster your ass off, Mr. Verbose."

"I won't beg you," said Justin, "I can only say this once, JC, and your answer will be IT for me, okay? I want you back. I want us to make this work."

"I don't want you to beg," JC countered. "I just want you to tell me that the next time I try to do something nice for you, or we ... sleep together ... that it won't make you feel awful because we weren't on equal ground when it happened. I DON'T want the times when this does work to be CLOUDED by that." "I can't promise not to be hurt sometimes," said Justin. "When I realize that the way I feel about you isn't the way I feel about me. But I want this anyway. I don't feel AWFUL. Pain doesn't have to be awful. I can deal with it."

"That's not good enough," protested JC, and it was the hardest thing he ever did. "I *expect* you to hurt, when I do stupid shit and say stupid shit and just ... act like a stupid shit. But you can't 'deal with it' always, and if I can't ever know when something nice I try to do will just HURT you ... "

"Not good enough," mumbled Justin. "JC ... it HAS to be!"

"Why?" JC asked warily. "God, don't you fucking GET I'm trying to do the right thing, here?"

"The right thing is NOT to leave me again!"

The pained look reappeared on JC's face. "I don't think ... Justin. I didn't *leave* you. I let you GO. *Please* stop saying that like it was some capricious move on my part."

"I chose to stay," said Justin wearily. "Despite everything, despite not knowing how to make it work. YOU left. I don't CARE what noble intentions you had at the time ... you left."

JC shook his head, even as he felt every last barrier he put up crumbling. "I could so, so easily do it again." "Leave?" confirmed Justin. "It would be that easy for you?"

"It wouldn't be easy to do," JC clarified, "but it could easily happen. Or ... you should be thinking that, at least."

"Why? Why should I be thinking that?"

"So you don't let me come back," JC whispered, and dropped his head.

"I want us to try," said Justin. "Look at me, JC. If we get back together, you ARE going to be my boyfriend. It's just going to be you and me. And ... I'm not going to ask for anything more than that. After that ... any step we take is up to you."

JC looked up as soon as Justin said 'you and me,' his mouth set. "Justin," he started, testing his words. "If putting that word to what we are is what you need, that's ... but before you say that, there's something else. I mean. Something you should know ... ?"

Justin nodded. "Talk to me," he said simply.

JC shifted uncomfortably, wondering if he truly wanted to jeopardize everything by bringing it up then. Not that he wasn't fairly sure Justin *knew*, anyway. "It was just you and me, before, when we were together. And ... if you want to do this again, it'll be just you and me again. I ... promise. That's ... all I wanted to say." "I knew that," said Justin. "I know that. I always believed that, JC."

Squinting, JC nodded back and then clambored slowly to his feet. "Maybe you need to think about this, a little?" he finally asked, touching the picture album absently.

"I've BEEN thinking about it," said Justin. "I've been thinking about it since you left. What did you THINK I've been doing?"

"Why didn't you say anything?" JC muttered then. "WHy did you practically kick me out of your room, when I really just wanted to give you your present?"

"Because until then ... until you said something ... I thought you wanted to have NOTHING to do with me. You've been avoiding me. Completely. Since ... it happened."

"You've been in here the whole time," JC reminded him, knowing that was really only part of the reason. "With the door shut. And ... you went back to your hands-off! vibes right away ... and I didn't know what to say to you, even if you hadn't. What ... you've really been thinking about us, in here?"

"Haven't been doing much else," admitted Justin. "Thinking about you. Fucking myself. Watching TV." He looked down at the album again, stared at himself. Wondered if JC even REALIZED how much the gift did mean to him. "Why are we UTTERLY unable to talk about this relationship without one of us screwing things up?"

"Are we screwing it up now?" JC asked warily, disconcerted by the blunt way Justin had just described how he'd been passing his time, wondering if it meant that he didn't miss JC as badly as he might've. "Cause, I mean, I'm not *accusing* you of anything, I was just ... I wanted to know what you were thinking about, is all. And even if you *were* thinking about ... us ... it had to be sort of more 'what if' than anything, right? Don't you need to actually think about DOING this again?"

"I thought about what the fuck went wrong, that you wouldn't want to try anymore," Justin said. "Wouldn't it hurt YOU, if you were in love with someone and they didn't love you back? Do you even have any CLUE what that would feel like? But ... it's not something that's SUPPOSED to happen right away. And it's not your fault that I'm in love with you -- you certainly didn't ask for it. But ... you missed me, too, and that's gotta MEAN something ... "

JC took another step backward toward the door, not only still disconcerted -- but now overwhelmed by Justin asking him about all the things that worried him about them being together, all in one breath. How much he *had* missed Justin, and all the ways that Joey, and even Chris once, couldn't fill that void. How difficult it was to tiptoe around Justin's incredibly strong and established feelings for him, nevermind the fact that JC had only known about them for less than two weeks, and how they *weren't* something he felt like he should have to deal with at this point in a relationship. And worst of *all* ... Justin's accusations that he didn't know what unrequieted love felt like, when JC had *tried* to open up to him about what had happened so long ago with Joey. And it had obviously left no impression.

"It was never that I didn't want to try," JC said softly. "I didn't mean to take the choice from you, Justin."

"Whatever we decide now," said Justin. "That's what's going to happen, JC. Either we'll try this again, or I'll start trying to forget about you. And yeah, you know what, I KNOW neither one of those is going to be easy." He looked up again, watched how JC looked almost ready to flee. "I don't want this, if you feel obligated or something. I don't want this if you know we're never going to be anything more than friends who fuck. But if you WANT something more and you want to TRY and find it, with me, then I want this, JC." He hesitated again. "And you KNOW I've never said that to anyone before ... so you're special, okay? I think half the fucking problem is that YOU don't think you're special. And the other half is ME thinking I'm ... not wanted ... "

JC set his jaw. "Don't ... don't you *dare* say that to me, about not being wanted, while you're holding that book in your lap. Just don't." He took a deep breath, and started rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't feel obligated. And we were *already* more than friends who fuck. Can you just ... not pressure me, so much, to do too much too fast?"

"I didn't SAY I wasn't wanted. I said part of OUR problem is MY issue with never believing that I'm wanted, the way I am. Why do you think this album just ... blows my mind, JC?" He looked down at it again, flipped through a few of the pages, saw himself the way *JC* saw him. "Look ... I'm not pressuring you, okay? I told you that it hurt me, that we're not in the same place. And it DOES ... what, am I supposed to lie about that? I ALSO said it's something I'm not expecting of you. This is my first fucking time in a relationship, JC, so can you not expect ME to know what the fuck I'm doing, all the time?"

"I *don't*," JC protested, crossing his arms in front of himself and then shoving them into his pockets. "I don't expect either of us to know, and I don't expect either of us to hide anything. But ... you *are* pressuring me, without even realizing it, I think. I mean ... a couple minutes ago, you said you just wanted to call me your boyfriend, and then anything else was up to me. But when I seemed receptive to that? *Then* you pushed a little further, saying you only wanted to be with me if I knew I wanted something MORE, and would make, like, this active effort to FIND it. And THEN, you say you don't expect me to ... love you ... eventually, or anything, but ... does that mean you'll just go through this the whole time being hurt?" The words are just tumbling out of JC's mouth desperately.

"But it's not ALL pain," protested Justin in frustration. "Don't you get that? Some of it's just the most amazing feelings I could ever imagine. And I don't want to lost THAT. It's worth the fucking pain to have it. Okay?" He stares at the book again, finding its stillness is able to calm him down a little. Then he looked up at JC again. "I'm not trying to push for something more. I haven't changed what I've asked for ... I've just used different words. I want to be able to call you SOMEthing that can in some way reflect our relationship. Boyfriend. It's about the most innocuous one that isn't just 'friend'. And ... is it so unreasonable that I want to know if this relationship is going to grow? Go somewhere? I'm not even asking now, just to know that at some point it will. That the possibility is there."

His eyes were drawn back to the book again; he flips a few more pages. "I wish," he said idly, his voice calming again, "that some of these could have had you in them, too. So I could see the way that YOU look at him, when I think you're not watching ... "

JC thought of the *other* stack of photos that were under his bed; the ones Chris had taken with JC's camera whenever JC would put it down for thirty seconds, the ones JC had been far too embarrassed to include with the others. "Can you put that down?" he asked awkwardly, taking a small step toward Justin, then closing the rest of the distance and kneeling in front of him. "You ... you won't need those kind of pictures, baby boy. You'll just be able to look at ME, standing or sitting or walking or lying next to you all the time, and know that it's the same way I look at you when you can't see."

Justin's body sagged with relief. "You're staying," he said, unable to keep the lightness out of his voice. He looked at JC, his eyes bright. "Thanks," he said softly. "For coming back. For the pictures. For ... being willing to try, again."

JC smiled sadly. "Please don't thank me," he whispered, picking at a thread on the comforter next to Justin's leg. "It's my only choice, really. I can't ... I can't go back to needing you and not having you. I can't go back to sleeping alone. I can't go back to trying to eat dinner by myself, or torturing myself by smoking fucking *cartons* of cigarettes out on that balcony. Not when I finally know that you won't make me go back to that."

"Why did you ever think I WOULD?" asked Justin. "Even when things were ... well, at their WORST, I still wanted to stay. I didn't know HOW, but I wanted to." He pat the bed next to him. "Come here, JC. Please?"

JC looked at Justin, wanting to tell him that he couldn't have thought anything *else*, with the way Justin had either avoided him or shut him out in the interim; but he didn't. Wanting to point out that Justin always asked JC to come to *him*, in situations like this, instead of just moving closer himself; but he didn't. The need, and the anticipation of not having to be *alone*, were too great, and so he ignored the question, and climbed gingerly up onto the bed.

Justin pulled him into a tight hug. "I missed you," he whispered. "You were here ... but I missed you SO much. Missed what we had. Missed knowing that I had someone to come home to. And ... um .... missed the sex, too." He blushed. "Is it too late to admit that you were KINDA right about that?"

JC snorted and buried his face in Justin's neck, his whole frame sinking into the other man's body. "Right about what?" he asked, his voice muffled. He had missed Justin too, but he had already gone into more detail about that than he thought he would've. He needed to hear what Justin missed that held *good* memories for him, so JC wouldn't have to jump back into this without knowing there were *some* things he could do that wouldn't hurt him. *Wouldn't hurt his 'boyfriend,'* he clarified to himself, vowing to get USED to that.

"About ... how there are things that other people can do for me that I can't do for myself," he said quietly. "About how, in some ways, it's better ... " He sighed softly and kissed JC's temple. "I missed holding you. And I haven't slept," he admitted. "And ... I looked at that leftover dinner in the fridge and I really wished that we'd had that meal together. That we'd just talked about our days and ... you know ... enjoyed ourselves. The way it could have been. The way it WILL be, the next time we try."

"I'll cook you a thousand dinners until we get it right," JC murmured, his heart clenching a little at Justin's admissions and the soft feel of his lips on his face. "If I stay here with you, will you promise to try and sleep? We can finish talking about this later ..."

"Have you?" asked Justin softly. "Slept, I mean? Just, get into bed with me, and ... and STAY. Please." He kissed JC's face again and waited for his promise. "Not the same," JC assured him, pressing his lips to Justin's neck. He *had* slept, but only after consuming enough alcohol to make staying in his bed tolerable ... which was enough to make him unconscious whether he tried or not. Reluctantly he pulled out of Justin's embrace and walked around the bed to pull the covers down. "I'll be here when you wake up, baby boy."

"You'd better be wrapped around me, or you're going to have a very unhappy 'baby boy'," said Justin, giving JC a significant look before stripping off his shirt and climbing into the bed. He WAS exhausted -- had been all along, but especially now that some of the tension he'd been experiencing for days had left his body. "And when we get up ... we WILL talk about this?"

JC nodded again, and started tugging at the hem of his own shirt awkwardly. "Should I ... I mean, do you want me to keep my clothes on, or ...?" He kneeled on the bed and brushed a stray curl out of Justin's face. "We can do anything you want, when we get up. Well ... anything we can accomplish with me latched onto you, that is."

Justin smiled -- really smiled. "Take your goddamn clothes off, JC," he said, tugging at him, "and get your ass in here already." He leaned forward then and kissed him. It wasn't soft, but it was tender. "I've REALLY missed you. For a hundred reasons."

JC shed his shirt easily enough, but paused at his jeans. He wasn't wearing underwear, and that seemed like it might be *too* comfortable for this still delicate stage of their reconciliation. Regardless, he was flushed with the excitement of being with Justin again, and tingling from the kiss that he had missed and fantasized about whenever he had to endure Joey's aggressive groping. "Do I get to hear these reasons?" he asked softly. "I'll keep count, for you."

"Are you ASKING me to get all romantic and sappy?" asked Justin, still trying to tug him into bed with him. "Because I could ... so easily. It's really easy to get gushy over you JC. Despite everything." "You're a master at the veiled insult, Timberlake," JC told him dryly, falling onto his side next to Justin, laying on top of the covers. "Just for that, I'm making you tell me all one hundred, now." "I was serious, kinda," said Justin, a little nervously. "There are things that I might say ... that could be considered pressure. And I don't want to do anything WRONG right now." He tugs on JC again. "UNDER the covers. You can't hold me from out there." JC paused again, then pulled down the sheets and slid in between them, hoping he wouldn't get too hot with the combination of the thick denim and holding Justin's warm body next to his. "You can't do anything wrong right now," JC told him solemnly. "I'm too relieved to get antsy, and plus ... it's your birthday, baby boy. Now come on. I'd love to hear the reasons you missed me, so I don't feel like I was the only one who was lonely."

"JC?" said Justin tugging on JC's pants. "No jeans in my bed. It's a rule." He smiled, then, and kissed JC's lips again before they went away. "I missed you becase of that adorable expression you get on your face when I get pushy. That's one ... " He kissed him again, then pushed him a little bit to get him to get rid of the jeans.

JC flushed but didn't protest, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that once he pulled off his pants, he'd be naked in bed with Justin. Naked and not completely un-aroused, due mostly to his proximity to Justin's nearly-bare form. "I kinda like you, pushy *that* way," JC smiled softly, moving his hips as far from the other man as he could and tossing his jeans out from beneath the sheets. "But you're not taking this seriously."

"I am," said Justin. "But I need to feel comfortable with you before I can do this. Feel INTIMATE. And, I mean ... some of the reasons ARE frivolous, or shallow. Like ... I missed your eyes. And I missed the way your hair always falls over on that one side." He reached up and touched JC's face. "I missed the way you make my heart pound."

JC nudged Justin's hand with his nose and lowered his eyelashes. "Those are good. They don't have to be serious reasons," JC explained. "It's just ... you know you were joking with the pushy comment. Forget it." He smiled and squirmed a little, trying to wrap his arms around Justin's waist while he laid on his stomach. "More intimate than this, even?"

"I wasn't, entirely," confessed Justin. "Joking, I mean. I DO like making you get that sorta smiling-exasperated look on your face. I makes me feel like I ... matter." He snuggled closer to JC. "I missed the way you try to protect me, too, even though it's frustrating sometimes."

JC looked over at Justin curiously, shifting so Justin could squeeze up against JC's side. "Protect you?" That wasn't something JC had expected to hear. "What ... I mean, how do I do that? And ... why is it frustrating?" The bad thing about laying face-down was that he really couldn't hug Justin to him very well ... his arm was about to fall asleep, but he wasn't about to turn back on his side while he still had half an erection to contend with.

"Like ... what you're doing right now. Protecting me." Justin pushed at JC's shoulder gently. "Like you feel like, sometimes, I should be sheltered from life. Because I'm the only innocent one left, or something." He smiled. "I don't entirely understand it, but you do it, and it's ... cute. And frustrating."

"*Cute*," JC repeated, grimacing. "Anyway. Maybe I do that, sometimes, with some stuff. As much as I can, anyway ... but it's usually more just trying to make sure you aren't ... hurt ... by things you don't need to know. Does that make sense? But ... I still don't understand what you think I'm protecting you from, right now."

"You never lay on your stomach in bed," said Justin shrugging. "ESPECIALLY not when we're trying to cuddle and talk. So ... I figure you're protecting me from something. Probably feeling awkward about the fact that you're naked ... maybe worried that I'll notice. I don't know for sure." He leaned over and kissed him again. "I'm pretty familiar with your body, JC. You have nothing to worry about."

The blush that had almost faded on JC's cheeks came back with a vengeance, but he rolled over to face Justin anyway. "I'm not *worried,*" he insisted, nevertheless relieved that Justin was at least wearing boxers. "It's just ... a little soon." Placing a soft kiss on Justin's shoulder, he curled up a little. "How did you know, anyway?"

"What, that you were naked?" Justin ran his hand down JC's back from his shoulders to his ass. "Because I told you to be. Hon ... if you're uncomfortable this soon, why don't you grab a pair of boxers out of the drawer? I won't be offended or anything ... " He nudged JC's side a little. "Go on. I won't have either one of us be any more awkward than we have to be, right now."

JC shivered at Justin's hand trailing across his skin and shook his head. "No. No, it's fine. I really just didn't want to seem too ... well, assuming, or whatever. Nevermind." He wrapped his elbow behind Justin's neck and pulled him closer. "You're at five. Need a nap before I make you finish?"

"Not just yet," said Justin, stroking JC's body some more. "I missed the way you feel under my hands. I missed the way you whisper in my ear when we're making love. I missed how much you turn me on." He considered that for a moment. "Actually, I didn't miss that. I still had it, even when you weren't with me."

JC pulled his hips back from Justin's body again, not wanting his once-again swollen cock to press into Justin's leg. "What are you talking about, you still had that?" JC murmured, his voice low. "And ... not to be argumentative ... but I don't remember being able to talk, the one time you made love to me."

"Sure you did," said Justin softly. "I remember. I remember making love to you for a long, long time on that balcony before I was ever inside you." Justin kissed him again, parting his lips this time. "I meant that you still turned me on, even after ... " He tried to pull JC back to him again. "You're moving away. Why are you doing that?"

Justin's going to do what he wants anyway, so JC lets him pull him back flush against his body, his erection rubbing along Justin's thigh. "No reason," he said mildly. "Even after ... what?"

Justin sighed. "Even after you left, JC. What did you THINK I meant by that?"

"That's what I don't understand," JC replied. "HOW did you still have that? And ... am I bothering you, or something?" JC couldn't see Justin's face, couldn't interpret that sigh.

"I don't understand the question. How could I NOT still have that? I didn't stop loving you, just because you decided not to be with me ... " Justin looked at him, his lack of comprehension clear. "Of course you still turned me on, when I thought about you, when I remembered."

"But ... maybe ... " JC looked at him from under his eyelashes. "Maybe you missed the way I turned you on when I was next to you?"

"Very much," admitted Justin easily, his breath catching a little from that look, from the way he was now sure that JC was aroused by him. "I missed the way you could look me hard."

"Cause I mean," JC shifted a little closer, bringing one of his legs over top of Justin's, "the way I turn you on when I'm next to you, that has to be at least a *little* different from the way I turn you on in your head, right?" His voice was slower than normal, deeper; confident from the implications behind Justin's last words.

"Yeah," breathed Justin shakily. "It is. And yeah ... I missed that. I missed that a lot, JC."

JC hooked that leg behind Justin's knee and pulled a little. "So you said," he told him huskily. "That's ... nine-and-a-half. Naptime, yet?"

Justin grinned. "You really want me to SLEEP?"

JC took in Justin's red, baggy eyes, and sallow skin, and felt immediately guilty for getting sucked into foreplay. "You really ... don't you think you should? I promised you I'll be here when you wake up ... "

Justin stifled a yawn. "I know," he whispered, "I'm just. I'm ... it's stupid, really."

JC didn't fight back his smile at the automatic way Justin said he 'knew' JC would be there. "Whatever it is," he cupped Justin's cheek, rubbing his fingers over the stubble there, "I'm *sure* it isn't stupid. And you can tell me even if it is."

"I'm just scared that if I go to sleep, when I wake up this won't have been real." He looked away, embarassed. "I TOLD you that it was stupid."

JC chuckled and tugged on one of Justin's curls. "Well ... why would I be here, when you woke up, if it wasn't real?"

Justin smiled. "You're teasing me."

"You deserve it," JC told him, disentangling their legs and trying to curl his body around Justin's instead. "Now close your eyes."

Justin closed his eyes, finally relaxing now that JC was here with him. "I missed you teasing me," he whispered.

JC pulled one of his arms up. "Uh-huh," he murmured, taking Justin's glasses off carefully and placing them behind him on the nightstand. "That's ten, baby boy, and more than enough. Go to sleep."

"I want to hear some, too," murmured Justin as he blinked a couple times, then closed his eyes again and curled against JC.

"Yeah?" JC whispered. "This is the important one, what we're doing now. I missed sleeping with you, Justin -- god, *so* much. How you actually *smell* warm, and soft ... " He nuzzled against the top of Justin's head.

Justin was reassured by that, both that JC wasn't doing this just for him, and that he WASN'T planning on leaving the moment Justin finally fell asleep. Which wouldn't be long now, if JC kept touching him tenderly the way he was.

JC interpreted the way Justin was relaxing into him more with each breath as a sure sign of how exhausted he really was. "I'll finish when you wake up," he said softly, ducking to plant a chaste kiss on the very top of Justin's ear.

Justin murmured something soft, an incoherent endearment, and his breathing began to even out as he felt into sleep.

JC pulled his torso back slightly to try to look at Justin's face. Satisfied he was asleep, comfortably and deeply, JC wrapped him up tightly again and let his own eyes drift shut.

---

JC woke with a start, and it took him a frantic second to remember where he was. For a moment, he actually thought the heavy weight curled up next to him was *Joey*, and he panicked about being on the business end of another punch from Lance, but his sigh was more one of pleasure than relief when he realized it was Justin. He buried his nose in Justin's curls again, inhaling the soft and *young* scent, and had to squeeze him tightly. Blinking slowly, he looked over at the clock -- 2:17 in the morning -- but only hesitated another second before starting to plant kisses along Justin's face, clearly intended to wake him. He wanted to see those eyes, and that smile, right *then*.

Justin shifted in his sleep, moving closer to JC and into the warmth of his body.

JC's heart jumped almost as much as his dick when Justin pressed up closer to him, but he grimaced in frustration when he realized that Justin hadn't woken up. "Justin," he murmured softly, tucking a curl behind his ear and pressing his lips gently to the skin he exposed. "Justin."

"Sleeping," murmured Justin, licking his lips, his eyelids fluttering just a bit. His hand ran over the flesh of JC's stomach, but his eyes didn't open.

JC pulled back again when he felt Justin's hand, hoping to see his efforts had been fruitful, but just stuck out his tongue slightly when he realized nothing had worked. Yet. "Justin," he said again, almost a growl this time, and let his hands drift to Justin's boxer-covered ass. He watched Justin carefully as he bent over to suck on his lower lip.

Justin moaned softly and began kissing him, his hand reaching around to grab JC's bare ass. He still hadn't opened his eyes.

That was better, but JC still wanted Justin to wake up, to know that JC was real in his bed, and not the dream it seemed like he was having. He slid one hand underneath the waistband of Justin's underwear, and rolled him over onto his back with the other. "Justin," he purred again, leaning over him, nipping at his lips -- remembering the last time they had been intimate.

"JC," whispered Justin, trying to deepen the kiss.

"LOOK at me, baby boy," JC whispered forcefully, massaging Justin's ass with one hand and caressing his face with the other. He let his tongue slip inside Justin's mouth briefly before biting his lip again. "Open your eyes before I scream."

Justin struggled to open his eyes. "You're here," he mumbled, squinting at him, but cutely.

"Mm-hmm," JC told him, smiling softly as he met his eyes, then grinning before he ducked his head to suck on Justin's neck. "And I'm going to tell you I'm sorry for waking you up, but ... I won't mean it."

"What time is it?" said Justin softly, his hand roaming JC's body. He blinked his eyes a few times and tried to focus on him.

"Time for make-up sex," JC grins cheekily, nudging one of Justin's legs up away from the other with his knee, and settling between them. "Any more questions?"

"No," whispered Justin, grinning a little as he continued to wake up and take in what was going on. "OKay. I'm ... easy."

JC chuckled wryly and nudged the other leg apart. "Of all the ... no. No, Timberlake, you are not easy. You are difficult, a challenge ... I might go as far as to say that you are actually quite HARD ..." JC bit at Justin's neck. "And I make awful puns when I'm horny at 2:21."

"It's 2:21?" murmured Justin, spreading his legs wide on his own. "Are you insane?"

"Are you complaining?" JC countered. "I woke up. I want you. I WANT you, Justin ... " He pulled his hand out of Justin's underwear, grabbing the elastic at the back and shoving it down over Justin's hips.

"Take 'em off," whispered Justin huskily. "Then take ME."

JC tugged the boxers down quickly over Justin's legs and tossed them over his shoulder, licking up Justin's thigh as he returned to his original position. "Are you okay? Do I need to be gentle?" He remembered the way Justin had been walking gingerly earlier, and had his suspicions about what that meant.

Justin shook his head, still in the process of waking up. "I ... was a little hard on myself," he admitted. "But ... you don't need to be gentle." He bit his lip. "I need to be taken, JC. I need to be yours."

JC reached over into Justin's drawer, finding the lubricant where he knew it would be, without even having to look away from Justin's face. "Justin ... this is the last time I'll ask, but ... are you sure you don't need me to go easy on you?" He uncapped the tube and grabbed Justin's hip with his free hand.

"Maybe ... just a little," confessed Justin reluctantly. "But not TOO easy ... please?" He grappled at JC's skin with slighly sweaty fingers and tried to draw him closer.

JC just nodded and handed him the tube. "Here," he said softly, holding out two of his fingers, still rubbing idly at Justin's hipbone with his other hand. "Help me."

Justin fumbled with the lubricant a little, still not entirely awake, and a slave to the sensations JC was pulling from his body. "I ... " He finally got the cap off and spilled it clumsily on JC's hand. " ... am utterly useless at the moment, apparently," he laughed softly.

"Shh," JC smiled tenderly, letting his other hand trail down Justin's hip flexor and along the inside of his thigh before pushing that leg up in the air gently, spreading Justin open for him. He spread most of the lubricant between Justin's cheeks thoroughly and purposefully, and just caught himself before applying the remainder to his own swollen cock. "Oh," he said softly. "Here, baby boy, hold your leg up like that. I gotta get a condom."

"Do you have to?" asked Justin softly, keeping himself spread wide open for JC.

JC paused as he reached across the bed again. But even though he was skipping most of the foreplay, he really couldn't skip that. They'd done it twice, without, and JC felt like shit about it. "Yes," he said weakly, opening the drawer again. "We're not fucking making a habit of that, Justin."

"But I've never felt ... " Justin sighed softly. "Okay. Yeah." He DID know that JC was right. It just wasn't easy to admit it ... especially not right now, when he was just WAITING for JC to slide into him.

Grabbing a condom out of the drawer, JC slammed it shut loud enough to make the lamp rattle. He tore the wrapper open with his teeth and rolled the condom on awkwardly with his left hand, then rubbed all the excess lube onto it with his right before replacing Justin's hand on his thigh with his own.

Justin's breathing was deep and even as he tried to prepare himself, both physically and mentally, for what was about to happen. Waking up to being touched had brought him to just INCREDIBLE heights of arousal. He'd known nothing else since he woke but JC touching his body in intimate ways. "Please," he whispered, and knew JC would understand.

JC knew Justin's body well enough to know he wouldn't have to prepare him at all to take in his size, not when he was that well-lubed. He leaned down over Justin again, and then grabbed one of the pillows out from behind his head. "Lift your hips, baby boy," he told him, pushing gently on his thigh.

Justin lifted up easily; he was ready to do just about anything JC's asked.

Shoving the pillow underneath Justin, JC placed gentle hands on the spread of his thighs, his thumbs digging right into the crease on either leg. That was the only support and direction he needed to move forward between the legs that Justin let hang open so invitingly, to let his cock nudge at Justin's entrance and then push its way in unabashedly.

Justin moaned loudly, arching up against him. "Yes," he whispered, and KNEW that this was something he'd been missing, too. Something that he couldn't have, without JC.

JC couldn't believe it had been practically a week since he'd been inside Justin; his body held him tight like he'd never been away. "GOD, you feel too good for words," he murmured, then fell silent as he began to concentrate on thrusting slowly and evenly, in a way almost completely unlike any of the other times he had done this to Justin.

Justin gasped with every thrust, rolling up againt him. His mind was still fuzzy, he wasn't really aware of anything other than the fact that he was having SEX with JC right now ... and that was all that mattered ...

Still bracing his hands on Justin's hips, JC didn't vary the tempo with which he drove into Justin one bit. There was something about doing it this way -- unhurriedly, CONSISTENTLY -- that seemed to suit his mood. And allowed him to watch Justin's face.

Justin's eyelashes fluttered now and his breathing became less consistent. "JC ... " he breathed. "Oh, JC ... " He thrust up against him, but didn't try to get him to speed up. It felt too good.

"Mmm?" JC murmured, slowing down enough on one stroke to kiss Justin's neck tenderly, before resuming his rhythm. He didn't even realize how much he missed this, Justin's sweat and tight muscles and panting breaths, more than anything HE felt.

Justin wrapped his legs around JC and tried to get him to thrust just a LITTLE bit harder. He wasn't so sore than he couldn't take it, and he wanted to feel POSSESSED. Completely.

JC took Justin's movements as a suggestion, whether or not that was how they were meant, and removed his hands from Justin's hips to rest on the mattress on either side of his head. The new tilt of Justin's hips and stretch of his own torso inevitably shifted the angle with which he was thrusting, and allowed him to go deeper. But he still didn't speed up.

"Oh, JC," says Justin again, his voice a whisper. He touched JC in every way he could, with his hands and the rest of his body, too.

"Do you need me to ...?" JC asked softly, brushing up against Justin's cock with his stomach purposefully. "I can't keep this in much longer, Just."

Justin shook his head. "Just ... thrust ... " he mumbled, his head moving from side to side for a moment.

That, at least, JC could do. He took a deep breath and dug his knees into the bed as he began to pump a little more roughly, but still with the same impeccible pace. "I MISSED this, FUCK, I missed it ... " he started moaning, feeling his balls tighten and his spine stiffen.

Justin gasped for breath as he came, suddenly, spurting on his stomach and chest. He moaned, long and low, and clawed at JC's now-slick body.

All of Justin's muscles contracting around him and underneath him wrung JC's orgasm from him almost immediately. His hips slowed until they finally were still, but JC continued to hold himself up off of Justin's body. He didn't make a sound until he did stop, and then only a soft whimper.

"I still love you," whispered Justin, finally awake, finally REALLY aware that JC was still with him. That they were back together again.

JC smiled weakly at him, then shifted his weight back onto his knees so he could pull out of Justin and throw away the condom. "I still love to hear it."

"You woke me up," commented Justin, holding up his arms so that JC could return to them.

"I'm still not sorry," JC replied, falling into Justin's embrace and swallowing back another whimper.

"Thank you," said Justin kissing him softly. "That was great."

JC pulled his lips away. He didn't want to start this again, this cycle of over-analyzing everything Justin said, but that ... he had rarely felt like he had just provided a service to Justin as much as he did after that comment. Luckily, he was sober, and too sated, to make a scathing retort, so he simply sat up again. "I'm gonna go get some water," -- which he was; his body was in a permanent state of dehydration, and after sweating with Justin he knew he'd get a headache if he didn't -- "do you want anything while I'm up?"

"Just you, back quickly," said Justin, still touching his skin tenderly. He didn't want JC to go, but didn't want to stop him, either, and seem needy. "I've ... missed being held. Have you?" He reached for his glasses so he could actually LOOK at JC, see what he was feeling after they had sex for the first time after getting back together -- and he didn't try to convince himself that it was anything OTHER than sex, yet. Down that road lay heartbreak.

"I've missed a lot," JC replied, knowing he didn't really answer the question. He *had* missed being held, but he couldn't say that out loud just then, when he was reminded of how much he *didn't* miss the fact that even Justin could make him feel like he wasn't much more than a good lay. Sighing, he pulled on Justin's boxers before leaving the room.

Justin watched him go, biting his lip a little. Something had gone wrong, and he didn't know what, and he suspected that JC WASN'T going to tell him. Because that was just how JC was. It was damn frustrating, though, to realize that the lines of communication weren't as open as he wanted -- needed -- them to be. He hadn't spent all that time alone, thinking about this, to feel like he was STILL alone, when he was with JC.

JC re-entered the room with a tentative smile, a bottle of water, and a resolution not to overreact. He *had* woken Justin up ... and god knows *he'd* said some stuff he wished he hadn't, during or after sex, so ... He set the bottle on the bedside table and fell back into the bed, touching the frame of Justin's glasses gently. "Okay. I'm a *little* sorry I woke you up. You still tired?"

"Yeah," admitted Justin with a sleepy smile. "But I didn't thank you for waking me up just to have you apologize for it, JC. It was -- dare I say it? -- kinda romantic. That you want to be with me THAT much." He licked his reddened lips and looked at JC closely, now that he was back. "Is ... something wrong?"

"You can call me romantic," JC said idly, ignoring the question, his fingers tracing along Justin's stubble again. "I'm not *that* insecure about all this. I just ... wish my intentions had been so noble." He smiled, and made sure Justin saw it, so that he knew he was being playful. "I missed your birthday, though."

"I can cope without having had birthday sex with you," said Justin affectionately. "You gave me just ... just the most wonderful present, JC. I could hardly believe it, when I opened it. It wasn't just what it was ... it was the thought behind it. The wanting to make me feel better about myself. It was just so ... so SELFLESS. It really was." He curled up against JC's side again. "So are you gonna tell me what's bothering you, hon?"

"No," JC shook his head. "I just ... got into my head too much, for a second. I'm ... okay." He gave Justin a brief kiss, then wrapped his arms around him. "I'm really, really glad you liked the pictures. I ... it wasn't to get you to take me back. I wasn't even *thinking* that, when I brought it by -- wouldn't *let* myself think it. But you surprised me."

"Were you really surprised?" asked Justin. "You knew I didn't want to lose you, in the first place. I ... " He has to be really honest with both himself and JC about this. "I didn't know it was going to happen either, not then. You really hurt me, when you left. More than it hurt me for you to stay. But ... when it came down to it, there wasn't a decision to be made. I wanted to be with you, and you wanted to be with me, and that was that." He kissed JC's shoulder then nuzzled his neck. "Don't laugh at me if you see me looking at those pictures over and over. They really -- you really -- made me see things in a different way."

"I wouldn't laugh," JC told him, rolling onto his back a little and tugging Justin to rest sort of half-on, half-off his body. "Nothing would make me happier. That's ... that's what they were meant to do, after all." He breathed into Justin's ear and closed his eyes. "And yes. I was surprised. Justin ... god, you wouldn't even *look* at me, when we had to be in the same room together. I knew *I* wasn't happy, but ... I thought you had realized it was for the best, and were just working on getting over me."

"I wasn't trying to get over you," said Justin. "That ... just ... no. I wasn't ready to do that. I was just trying to ... cope. That and fucking myself senseless." He paused to consider that. "Which are probably the same thing ... really. And I spent a lot of time just lying here, thinking about what YOU were doing. Wondering where you were, and why you'd done the things you did ... " He curled his body around JC's, tangling their limbs. "I'm glad you're here now. I missed YOU."

"Missed you, too, Justin," JC said solemnly, placing a hand on the back of Justin's leg and hitching him up closer to his body. He knew that the reason he'd done what he had, leaving, hadn't been resolved ... and that was always going to be looming over him. But it seemed they both needed each other too much to let it keep them apart any more. "Are you doing okay?" he said softly, then, letting his hand drift up to cup Justin's ass gently and make it obvious what he meant. "Why did you do that to yourself, baby boy?"

"I'm fine," said Justin, nodding. "It's nothing new, really. I mean ... it helped me not think about things ... and it was familiar ... and I know you probably think this is really fucked up, but it was a bit comforting, too. Like ... a baby blankey or something. Something from my life before that I knew I would always have." He kissed JC's shoulder, realizing that being wrapped around JC was comforting, too. And a lot more familiar than he really expected, after being together for so short a time.

"Oh," JC said softly, his earlier suspicions that Justin hadn't found it difficult to replace JC confirmed, his ability to pleasure himself apparently not lacking. Plus, he couldn't understand how -- if Justin used to think about JC when he fucked himself -- that would help him NOT to think about what was happening between them. He sighed again morosely. "Can you at least try not to hurt yourself? What did you *do* this time?"

"I didn't hurt myself ... much," said Justin, frowning. "I know I did it a little rougher than I should have, but ... I didn't do any DAMAGE or anything." He touched JC's face again. "Why are you asking? Why does it matter? I'd ... sooner just forget now, to be honest."

JC closed his eyes tightly, willing away the image he had of Justin doing that in front of him, the one time he had seen it. "It *doesn't* matter," he said softly. "If you want to forget it, so do I. Let me just apologize again for ... aggravating anything, if I did, and ... yeah. Let's forget it. Why don't you get some more rest."

"Because you woke me up," said Justin softly. "And maybe I want to hold you, for a little while. JC ... you didn't hurt me." Justin watched the play of emotions on JC's face for a moment, then sighed. "It's not really a pleasant memory, JC," he said again. "But I think maybe you don't understand. And because you don't understand I think I SHOULD talk about it ... "

"Maybe I don't understand," JC acknowledged, then continued a little firmer, a little pleadingly. "No, I KNOW I don't. Justin -- HOW could it help you forget, if you used to think about me when you did it ... when you *shared* it with me, even? And ... how is just ... *rutting* yourself so bad that it hurts supposed to be *comforting*? And ... god ... how can I deal with the fact that it's obviously a sufficient substitute for what WE did?"

"Okay," said Justin, propping himself up to comfortable conversational distance from JC's face and stroking his chest with one hand, their legs still a little tangled. "First of all, it WASN'T a sufficient substitute. It wasn't even fucking close. I didn't even think about anyone when I did it, didn't even try to pretend it was a person. It ... made me come and exhausted me and made me a little sore and ... just let me get away from me, for a while. That's why I did it so hard, so I couldn't pretend it was anything other than what it was.

"The comfort ... was just in it being something familiar, JC. I've been doing that for, well, years. That DOESN'T mean it's all I want anymore, or that it can -- in any way -- replace you. I mean, didn't I finally admit that to you earlier? And what I shared with you ... was a lot gentler than what I did to myself these past couple days. A lot hotter. A lot ... better. With you there ... there was even some emotional satisfaction to it."

Justin hid his face a little. "It's all kind of embarassing, now ... "

"Please don't be embarrassed," JC tugged on Justin's chin to get him to look at him again, mollified despite himself. "I'm sorry I pushed you, made you talk about it when you didn't want to ... " He leaned forward to kiss him, sucking leisurely on his lip and grabbing Justin's hand in his own and laying them back down on his chest. "Thank you," he said softly, then. "I think I ... needed to hear that. I was -- self-conscious? And letting my head go places it shouldn't." Kissing Justin again, he smiled finally, admiringly. "You're so strong."

"Strong?" said Justin, laying lazily against JC again. "How does THAT make me strong? Or ... are you talking about the way I was able to ... ? Never mind." He kissed JC's collarbone and rested his head in the crook of JC's neck. "I'm okay talking about it," says Justin. "I didn't want you thinking that ... it was really FUN, or anything. Because it wasn't about that."

"I get that, now," JC replied, closing his eyes again and nuzzling into Justin's curls, reveling in their softness. "And you're strong because you didn't run from saying something that needed to be said, and you were so candid, and ... well. It was a little about what you did, too. I mean ... you're so *independent*. I could never."

"You could never WHAT?" asked Justin quietly. "Take care of yourself?" He chuckled. "I'm sure you're perfectly capable of masturbating, if the need arose. But that's probably not what you were talking about." He kissed JC's throat; his lips were already resting against it so the act felt natural. Obvious, even. "I'm tired of running from things that need to be said. Because ... we're both so much happier when they're just .. out there. Instead of inside."

"Mmm," JC agreed wordlessly. "I *did* kinda mean taking care of myself. Masturbating, that's ... " he chuckled and trailed off. "I just meant, being able to recognize what you needed, when you needed it? And then figuring out a way to GET it, without relying on anyone else. *That's* the kind of strength I ... somewhat lack in." He squeezed Justin's body closer. "I ... I *need* you, Justin. I don't want to run from saying that."

"It can be learned, I think," said Justin. He took off his glasses and leaned across JC to set them on the bedside table again, then moved back into his embrace and closed his eyes. "Being able to say that, JC ... that's pretty strong, too. I'm glad you're not running. It's nice, not having to chase, sometimes. Not that I wouldn't have ... " He kissed JC's throat again, enjoying the now-familiar taste of it.

JC shivered a little, and pulled the sheet up over their bodies again. "Would you've?" he asked doubtfully. "You didn't, before ... "

"There's a difference between running, and pushing someone away," says Justin softly. "I thought it was pretty clear ... well, that's in the past now, right?"

JC sighed again, and ran his fingers through Justin's hair. It didn't seem that different to him -- chasing was chasing. "It's in the past," he confirmed, and swallowed, and then reached behind him to grab his water again. "So are we ... just starting where we left off? I mean ... I'm sorry, about earlier, since ... I kind of *assumed* ... "

"Wait," said Justin. "What are you apologizing for this time, C?"

JC blushed a little. "We didn't really talk about whether ... you know, if we were gonna just ... start sleeping together again. The *not*-sleeping part of sleeping together. I think maybe I should've waited until you said it was okay ... ?"

"It was a safe assumption," Justin assured him, kissing his chin. "I'm not sure we're picking up where we left off ... quite ... but it's definitely still a sexual relationship, between us, I think ... "

"What's different, then?" JC asked warily, propping his head up on his fist, hoping Justin could say something that would let him *stop* thinking that he should be a little ashamed of the way it seemed so automatic to both of them that they'd jump back in bed together. "That wasn't the *reason*, was it? That ... you let me back?"

"What, for the sex?" said Justin. "No. But I do love it. I meant ... we've both made some decisions here, right? We aren't just together because, you know, we had good sex. We're together because we decided to be."

"So what's *different*?" JC asked again, watching Justin cautiously. "For you. What decision did YOU make?" "I ... I guess I recognized that I WAS pushing a little. I decided that I had to let things go at a natural pace. Decided to try and LEARN a bit about relationships, before I assumed I was write about them." He smiles a little. "That honest enough for you?"

JC nodded, and let his head fall back to the pillow. "I never accused you of not being honest, Justin. I just ... you were so insistent, that we weren't just, like, rejoining a game already in progress..."

"Do YOU feel like we were?" JC tried to shrug. "As long as I know that you're not ... hurting; or resenting me all the time anymore, then ... I'm okay falling back into this with you."

"I'm not," says Justin. "I just don't know if it's better to just pick it up like we never stopped ... or try and start over ... "

"It's not very REAL, to start over, though, is it?" JC bit his lip. "I mean ... all the stuff that happened ... we can't FORGET that. And all the 'first time's we shared, we don't get DO-overs."

"Well, I didn't mean it exactly like that. I guess maybe ... I was hoping we could come to a better understanding this time, about what we're all about."

JC shrank back a little, almost imperceptibly, at the sign of something approaching a 'where is this going?' state-of-the-relationship talk. "I thought ... I was your boyfriend, we were exclusive ... end of story. Everything else: take it as it comes."

"Well yeah, exactly," said Justin. "We ... we agreed on that, last night. That's kinda my point."

"Okay," JC replied, a little more easily. "That's it, then? You didn't mean we have to COME to an understanding, just that ... we gotta abide by the one we have?"

"I mean that we DID come to an understanding, when we talked," said Justin, smiling again. "That we started out better, this time. That's enough for us, now."

"Right," JC said softly, resting his chin on Justin's head. It was enough for him ... he just hoped it would prove to be enough for Justin.

"How are YOU doing, hon? Did you ... are you happy?"

JC nodded, and squeezed Justin to him tightly. "Did I what?"

"I was going to ask you if you enjoyed it," said Justin, trying to curl closer. "Then I realized that wasn't the question I wanted to ask."

"I'm happy," JC whispered. "I'm back in this bed, with you ... and you're finally talking to me, and looking at me, and KISSING me again ... I'm already ready to not leave." He smiled, wondering if that made sense out loud the way it did in his gut.

"Well, not LOOKING," confesses Justin with a grin. "But I can hardly be blamed for taht."

JC rolled his eyes. "Okay. No more trying to say nice things to you when you need to catch up one about thirty hours worth of sleep. Forget it."

Justin poked him. "I was teasing. You were supposed to smile. I GET what you're saying JC, I'm just feeling ... kinda giddy, actually."

"Okay," JC kisses him dismissively. "You should still sleep. It's late. Or early. Whatever."

"You, too," said Justin insistently. "Maybe I'll be lucky enough to have you wake me up again."

JC smiled, even though he didn't think so. Not in the way Justin meant, at least ... it was going to have to be him to initiate it, next time, so JC could be sure he was ready. "Shh," he said, squeezing the back of Justin's neck and tucking the covers up around him tighter. "We'll see."

"Night, C," said Justin drowsily. "Stay, okay?"

Sighing, JC looked over at the clock. He hoped he could fall back asleep just as easily. Both because he wanted to wake up with Justin .. and because he didn't want to have to force himself to stay there when he decided he needed a drink. "I'll be right here when you wake up," JC told him eventually -- it's all he can promise.

"Thanks," murmured Justin. He yawned widely, then fell silent.

JC held him close, and went back to watching the clock.

---

Justin sat on the couch and watched the door, waiting for JC to get back. Joey and Lance had gone out for the evening already and Chris and Dani -- or someone else? -- were locked in his room right now. He'd tried watching TV, but he was too distracted. And he needed to talk to JC before the distraction was going to go away.

JC pulled into the driveway and got out of his jeep quickly, leaning over the other door on his way into the house and grabbing the bag on the passenger side seat. He whistled a little, the melody he had put down for his song in the studio that day, and tossed his keys in the air as he walked up the steps.

Justin's eyes were aching from the staring, but he couldn't make himself stop.

JC braced the door open with his foot as he pulled he key out of the lock, then kicked it shut behind him. "Hey," he grinned broadly when he saw Justin. "Hey. Lemme just go put this stuff away, and I'll be right back. It went SO well today; I can't wait to tell you about it."

"Right," said Justin unenthustiastically, torn between wanting to let JC celebrate, before hitting him with this, or getting it out of the way -- and who really believed Joey anyway? -- so it wouldn't be hanging over their heads.

JC didn't catch Justin's tone, still humming a little to himself as he walked down the hall to the kitchen and started taking the groceries he'd gotten on the way home out of the bag. "Where is everybody?" he called out, hoping Justin would say 'gone', so they could have the place to themselves for dinner.

"Whatever you do, don't open Chris' door," said Justin dryly, waiting on the couch for JC to come to him.

"Okay ... ?" JC laughed. He shoved the rest of the vegetables in the fridge and grabbed a beer, then made his way out to the living room. "So," he bounded over to the sofa. "Wanna hear about it?"

Justin paused, weighing his options, then sighed and shook his head. "JC, I need to ask you something, first, okay?"

"Sure," JC said easily, falling back into one of the armchairs and taking a swig from his beer. His cheeks were pink and his eyes shiny, and he stared at Justin with anticipation.

Justin looked at him sadly, almost feeling guilty. "Oh, JC," he sighed. "I ... Joey talked to me and ... I have to ask ... did something happen, hon? Between the two of you? When you and I ... weren't?"

The smile vanished from JC's face. He really, honestly had figured that Justin would have assumed -- correctly -- that it had. But now that he knew he hadn't, and that JC had chickened out of apologizing for it the night before ... he dropped his head and bit his lip. "Joey ... what did he say?"

"He didn't ... SAY," said Justin slowly. "He just kinda ... implied ... that he'd, you know ... won. Or something."

JC could only nod his head. "Was that before or after you told him we were back together?"

"Before," says Justin, his voice suddenly shaky. "You did, JC? You left me ... for him?"

"FUCK no," JC grimaced painfully. "No. I just ... you weren't even acting like I was alive, afterwards, and ... I didn't have the will to fight him off. But jesus, no, he didn't WIN. He's so full of shit ... "

"But you left ME, who wanted you," said Justin bluntly. "And you went to HIM. To him, JC. I ... how the fuck am I supposed to FEEL about that?"

"GOD, I figured you knew about this," JC muttered to himself, rubbing his hand over his eyes. "No matter WHAT he told you, I didn't *go* to him. I just ... stopped kicking him out. I mean, fuck, Justin. What'd he say when you told him about us, again? After that?"

"I didn't," whispered Justin, looking down. "I ... ran. To my room. And fucking cried, okay?"

"Oh, Justin," JC breathed painfully. "You ... oh. Why didn't you TELL him? Get the last laugh?"

"I wish I HAD," said Justin emphatically. "I just ... I'd considered it, JC. That you would or that you had. But then you didn't say, and ... it was a shock to me, coming from him. Why ... ? I still don't understand, JC. You could have had ME, all along!"

"I'm ... sorry he had to be the one to tell you, Justin. But you have to know I didn't pick him. It was just ... too natural to fall back into it, with him, when I really COULDN'T have you."

"You COULD," said Justin again, his eyes burning. "I was YOURS. You didn't want that?"

"Justin ..." JC sighed. "It wasn't like that. It was just filling a need, with him ... or even less, just letting him do what he wanted. It was never like that, with you."

"See, that's my point," said Justin sadly. "You could have had something better. I'm BETTER than he is. I KNOW I am. And ... you abandoned that. Why?"

JC set his beer down on the table. "Don't mix these things up, Justin. The reasons we stopped last week ... that has NOTHING to do with me and Joey. I didn't ABANDON you ... fuck, I was still trying to look OUT for you."

"Felt like it," said Justin, looking down. "It FELT like that, JC. Look ... I think I'm getting handle on what you THOUGHT you were doing ... but what you DID was leave me. And fuck around with Joey again. And then ... get back together with me. Was that it? Did you just ... you didn't want to break that agreement, so you broke up with me instead? Because you couldn't resist him?"

JC wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. "Jesus CHRIST, Justin. I had to fucking fight him off every DAY we were together, before. What makes you think that DAY I couldn't resist him? FUCK." JC buried his head in his hands. "Just, fuck. It had NOTHING to do with you. I missed you, and maybe that meant I let him take advantage of me. But I didn't fucking CHOOSE him. I would never. NEVER."

"Why him?" asked Justin with a sigh. "If you needed it so bad ... couldn't you have just fucked someone else? Chris, or something? You KNOW how I feel about him ... "

JC blushed heavily. "Well ... "

"Well ... WHAT?" said Justin, staring at him, now.

JC stared at his hands. "First of all, it wasn't because *I* needed it. You should know that. But ... Joey wasn't the only one that came by, the past couple days ... Chris ..."

Justin continued to stare. "You slept with Chris. Too. Instead of me. Shit, JC ... I don't even know what to SAY right now."

JC felt like he wanted to sink into the sofa and just disappear. "Why do you keep saying it like I made a choice NOT to be with you. Don't you see that what happened with them was ... as different from what happened with you as ... hugging is to fucking? Can't you GET that?"

"Then why did you DO it?" he asked in frustration. "JC, I don't understand!"

"Why did you go back to fucking yourself?" JC blurted back in retaliation. "How is this ANY fucking different? It's what we were USED to. And ... without you, I couldn't bring myself to care."

"YOU left ME," said Justin emphatically. "I was trying to console myself. Trying to cope. I guess, in the end, what I DON'T completely understand ... is why you did it."

"And again," JC retorted, "how was that any different? You think that because I was the one to walk away, it HURT less? That I needed to COPE less? Fuck. I thought I needed it MORE, at the time ... to remind myself of why I shouldn'tve stayed with you."

"Well, you SHOULD have stayed with me," said Justin, staring at his hands. "You should have in the first place."

"No," JC disagreed softly. "No. You would have left me, sooner or later, if I hadn't ... We needed this, Justin, to figure out how much we needed each other." JC swallowed, unbelieving that he just SAID that. "Joey was a distraction. And if you can get him to be honest, he'll tell you that, too."

Justin remained silent for a moment, still staring down. "Okay, JC," he said finally. "We ARE starting over now, then. I can't do it any other way. Not after you were with Joey. AND Chris. I need us to be ... fresh. And I need you to keep that promise. Okay?"

JC sighed. "Which one? The one about not sleeping with Joey? GOD. I fucking WON'T, okay?"

"Yeah," said Justin. "THAT one. Are there others?" He stared at JC again. "I'm only saying that because you DID, okay? And yeah, we weren't together at the time, so I won't give you all this shit about it, but I also can't be like we're picking things up again, because that DID happen in between. And I don't want us to be fucking TAINTED by it, okay?"

"FUCK," Jc muttered again, wanting to be BITTER about Justin thinking that once JC had him back, he'd even *consider* letting Joey be a part of his life, let alone his bed. "Whatever. Do what you have to do, think whatever you want. I'm not fucking Joey anymore. Or Chris. Or YOU, if that'll prove something else to you, for fuck's sake."

"Okay, what fucking right do YOU have to be mad right now?" asked Justin, standing up. "*I* didn't run and fuck someone else the moment I got rid of you."

"Besides yourself?" JC asked icily. "It's a little tough to see the difference ... especially when you consider that YOU had to make the effort to do that, rather than just having to lay there and spread your legs."

"You're such a bastard," muttered Justin. "You're just trying to fucking justify it."

"I don't HAVE to justify it," JC insisted. "We weren't togther; I didn't OWE you anything ... and it was MEANINGLESS. You mean to tell me it was at ALL different from what you did?"

"You didn't owe me anything," muttered Justin. "Fuck. You know what? Whatever. Why DID you want me back? Why? What the fuck does THIS mean to you?"

JC stood up as well. "More than it means to you, I'm realizing, if something that happened when you wouldn't even LOOK at me is making you doubt me like this. Fuck you. It's the only thing I promised you, and I'd do it again in a heartbeat, if it meant anything."

"I'm not DOUBTING you," said Justin. "Not once, in this whole fucking conversation, have I DOUBTED you. Fuck."

"Oh, yeah." JC snorted. "Because asking me what 'the fuck' this means to me, isn't implying that it doesn't mean anything? AFter ... fuck. After yesterday, and last night, and this morning ...? Fuck. You. Just FUCK you, Justin. Literally. Go fuck yourself. Since it's what you want." JC was livid, more than he could ever remember, wondering why he was being vilified fo this.

"JC ... tell me you don't believe that ... " said Justin in a small voice. "Just ... tell me it's just because you're madd or something."

"Oh, I'm sorry," JC replied, in mock concern. "Did I hurt your feelings? Hey ... on the birght side, at least I didn't call you a whore and issue you some completely unnecessary and repetitive ultimatum. Take comfort in the little things, Just." "I don't love you," Justin spat out angrily. It wasn't true, but he wanted it to be -- he can't believe JC is doing this. Can't believe the PAIN he's causing. On purpose. He stands up without another word and leaves the room, heading into the kitchen.

"Good!" JC yelled after him, drinking most of the rest of his beer and then throwing it against the wall. That hurt to hear, more than he thought it would ... but not enough to chase after Justin to have him soothe it.

Justin opened the fridge and took out one of JC's beer, draining almost all of it in one gulp. He needed to be numb right now, needed it more than anything. Why the FUCK did he have to fall in love with such an asshole, anyway? Some much for being convinced that most of their fights were caused by the alcohol.

"FUCK!" JC muttered to himself, staring at the broken glass, then stormed into the kitchen. "What the fuck WAS that? You don't love me? You don't want to do this?"

Justin drained the rest of the beer and slammed the bottle down on the counter. "Maybe," he said acidly, "I didn't want to let you have a monopoly on the whole hurting thing."

JC clenched his hand into a fist, then released it just as quickly. "Make you feel better? I hope so." His eyes were sad. "I did everything I COULD to keep from hurting you. YOU'RE the one who can't fucking let it go."

"Then why?" asked Justin angrily, "have you don't nothing BUT since you came home? Since I asked you about it. About HIM. I fucking TRUST you not to do it now, JC. But I didn't think you'd done it THEN, either. I guess I was fucking naive. I guess I SHOULD have known."

"Telling the truth is hurting you?" JC asked, his jaw set. "THAT'S good to know. Figured I should've trusted my first instinct, and dusted it under the rug. THAT'S really what you expected, right? SO when you found out, like this, you could pull your fucking martyr act?"

"If you'd told the fucking TRUTH, in the first place, we wouldn't be HAVING this conversation," said Justin, slapping his palm against the counter. "You sure have a fucked up notion of truth. It's not something that has to be shouted out or twisted or shoved in someone's face. I can just be told, JC. It can be calm. It doesn't have to be this fucking drama you're putting on here."

"The drama *I'm* putting on?" JC echoed, barking out a laugh. "Oh, THAT'S rich. Since I'm the one that pitched a fit and ran out, right? Damn, Justin." He shook his head then, and opened the fridge to grab another beer for himself, frowning at the shrimp he had gotten to cook for dinner resting on the shelf. "And you KNOW I told the truth in the first place. I admitted it, when you asked."

"Right. And I said it was okay, and that I would be more comfortable with us starting over rather than picking things up again, after that. So why the FUCK are you still talking about it? Still OBSESSING over it? Jeez, guilty much, JC?"

"Fuck you," JC muttered, twisting off the cap of his bottle. He DID feel guilty, but more ashamed than anything. "Pardon me for not interpreting your comment that I *tainted* what we have, as being 'okay' with it."

"Well, fuck, it DOES. And not just because it was Joey but because it was someone other than me. I don't want to have that in the middle of our relationship. THIS is just about US. No other sexual partners allowed, you know? Okay, I'm sorry, tainted is a fucking loaded word, but you KNEW what I meant, JC. And don't say you didn't."

"Fine," JC said shortly. "So. Now you know. I let Joey and Chris fuck me when you wouldn't give me the time of day. Need any more details, or can we go ahead with your starting-over crap?"

"It's not crap," muttered Justin. "Obviously you just don't give a fuck, JC. If you don't want to make this work, then why are you still here? Just tell me that, okay?" He wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer to that, but he was fucking SICK of JC acting like HE was the injured party here. HE had been the one to unceremoniously dump Justin, and definitely NOT the other way around.

"Obviously I DO," JC disagreed, his voice still loud. "Or I WOULDN'T be here. I just ... god, I wish we could go back to the part where you wanted to be with me, no matter what I had done before you."

"I do. Fuck. Don't you GET that? I'm just trying to make sure that stuff IS before me, and not DURING. Is that so fucking hard for you to take, JC? Is it?"

"No!" JC snapped back. "Fuck, I did it before, for you. But this ... it WASN'T during you. And I never thought I'd have you back, so it mattered even less. But I CAN tell him no, when I'm with you. I have. I DID, all the time, and you don't even KNOW half of the shit he did ..."

"Why DON'T I?" asked Justin, his eyes flashing. "WHy couldn't you TELL me? Why is it so damn hard to just TELL me things?"

JC laughed again hollowly. "Do you just not GET that I don't want to hurt you? I don't want to make you doubt me, or make you mad at Joey, or make you self-conscious, or ANYTHING that would have come out of that. I needed to take care of it myself. It's, like, the ONLY way I have to take care of YOU."

"Well ... don't," said Justin, calming down just a little. "Because the way you hurt me MOST is when you just don't TELL me things. I hate feeling like I don't know what the fuck is going on. I especially hate finding out shit from JOEY and not from you."

"You could have ASKED me," JC reminded him, biting his lip. "I mean ... really, Justin, I thought you probably knew. You HAD to have suspected."

Justin shook his head. "I didn't, okay? Maybe I should've ... but it didn't even occur to me." He looked down and sighed. "Is this where you call me a naive child and start laying into me again?"

JC smiled ruefully. "No, you're ... I'm sorry. That you had to hear that from Joey. I really almost told you last night, REALLY. I ... should've. And I'm sorry." It was hard to get the apology out, but JC could tell it was something he needed to say.

"Thanks," said Justin softly. "Um ... so how was your day? Did you ... miss me?" He hoped JC would just go with him, would just leave the argument behind now before more feelings were hurt.

JC's smile changed to a wistful one; all of the energy and excitement he had earlier, about his time in the studio and about cooking dinner for Justin, had basically vanished, and he felt just empty. "Yes," he said simply. "What about you? Do you ever miss me?"

"I missed you," confessed Justin. "I was looking forward to you coming home. Even ... even AFTER Joey pulled that shit on me ... " He looked at JC hopefully. "We okay now, hon?"

JC turned his back and threw away his empty bottle. "Yeah," he said quietly. "We're fine. Again, I'm sorry about Joey ... you want me to say something, to him?"

Justin shook his head. "I'll deal with him, if I have to. Now that I know." He took a step forward and reached for JC's shoulder. "I DO love you. I shouldn't have said that. I just ... wanted you to hurt, too. And I thought maybe that would hurt you. I guess I forgot for a second, that you don't ... Well, I doesn't matter. I just shouldn't have said it. And I'm sorry."

JC nodded but didn't turn around. "Just because I don't know what I'm feeling," he said slowly, "doesn't mean that *didn't* hurt. You succeeded, with that; but I probably deserved it." His words were virtually toneless, and it didn't even register to him that he didn't agree with Justin, about NOT loving him.

Justin wrapped his arms around JC from behind, silently, and kissed his shoulder. He was sick to death of the hurting, and just wanted something GOOD to happen, for once.

"Hmm," JC mumbled, then let one of his hands drift up to hold on to Justin's arm. He sighed. "You gonna be hungry for dinner, soon? Or ... did you maybe want me to leave you alone." JC remembered, a little too late, that Justin tended to lose his appetite, when they fought.

"I don't want to be left alone," said Justin, still holding him, ignoring the dinner question. "I've been looking forward to seeing you. Do you just want to sit down or something? You can tell me about your day, and I can NOT tell you about mine."

JC's heart sank a little more, when it seemed like Justin didn't want him to cook for him anymore. But the seafood wouldn't be as fresh tomorrow, so he sighed again, and tried to shrug him off. "Here, go sit down at the table," he told Justin. "You can talk to me while I fix this shrimp. Maybe somebody else will want it."

"JC," said Justin softly. "I never said I didn't want it. Can we just ... wait a few minutes? Can't you just HOLD me first? If it means so much to you that we stay together, can I at least have that?"

JC stepped closer to Justin again, reluctantly, and held out his arms. He would never get used to the way Justin wouldn't just ASK for that; instead, he had to make it an implicit criticism of JC. "Of course," he said evenly.

"Not if you don't want to," said Justin softly, without getting up. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked. I should have known that if you didn't just DO it, you probably didn't want to." He looked away and sighed, wondering if things were EVER gonna be right.

JC gritted his teeth and tugged Justin up out of the chair. "Just ASK next time," he whispered into his ear, forcefully but tenderly. "Don't make it sound like it's just another way I fuck this up. Can *I* at least have *that*?"

"I just want you to want me," said Justin, even though he knew that JC DID and had ample evidence of that. He wrapped his arms around him and squeezed him and tried to forget all the things that had come before.

"God, I do, baby boy," JC replied almost inaudibly, letting himself be enveloped by Justin's broad shoulders. "Why don't you know that, yet?"

"Same reason you don't know how I want you right back?" offered Justin as he clutched him. "I'd love dinner, JC. I should be hungry by the time it's ready, at this rate. You know ... if you smile at me, from time to time. And maybe touch me. And TALK to me."

"Is that all?" JC smiled weakly. "That might keep me too distracted to cook." He gave Justin one last squeeze, and backed away bashfully. "Are you going to get bored, if you stay in here?"

"No," promised Justin with a smile. "Not as long as you stay with me." He felt a little silly at the little rush he felt when JC's voice turned tender. And at the immense relief that came with it, too. "Let me know if you need help?"

JC looked at him warily. "Hmm. You can set the table ...?" He turned around and grabbed a pan out from under the oven. "Do I need to make extra, for anyone? Not that they'll eat with us, I just ... didn't know who was here ..."

"They can make their own damn dinner," said Justin lightly. "This is for us." He looked at the table, then at the cupboards, then back at the table again. "Set the table? Again? Do you not trust my cooking skills, C?" he asked, with a bit of a grin on his face. It wasn't like he didn't know the answer to THAT, at least.

JC chuckled as he grabbed a pot as well and filled it with water. "If you prove your worth, maybe you can pour the salad dressing." He turned on the burner to start the pot boiling, and then walked hesitantly over to Justin and cupped his chin. "I'm ... it's okay, if I tease you, right?"

Justin grinned. "More than okay," he said. "So what's for dinner? And is it a just a ploy to get me to eat my veggies again?" He kissed JC's wrist, then got up to start getting plates and utensils from the cupboards and drawers.

JC held on to Justin and kissed him before he could get away. He pulled back slightly, and looked into Justin's eyes, and then kissed him again ... letting his lips linger that time. "I'm SORRY," he said very softly, punctuating it with a serious look, before letting go; hoping Justin wouldn't do anything beyond accepting it for what it was.

"You're beautiful," said Justin with a lopsided grin, his eyes locked with JC's, before kissing the end of his nose and turning away to open the cupboard. he could still feel JC's hands on him, trailing down his back and touching his hips before moving away himself.

"So, dinner," JC said lightly, into the refrigerator, when he could find his voice. "Um. Tomato with mozzarella, to start? And then spinach and field greens, and shrimp scampi. Nothing ... fancy, or anything." He blushed again, and wondered if Justin would like it, wondered if it made him feel as special for JC to do it for him as it made *JC* feel to be able to do it.

"Wow," said Justin with a little laugh. "I'd hate to see what you call *fancy*. I think i'm doing good when I managed to make, like, hamburgers, without messing them up."

"Hamburgers can be tricky," JC said weakly, then grinned as he took the shrimp over to the sink to peel them. "Uh ... I also got a bottle of ... of wine, in there. But ... if you'd rather not ... " He wasn't sure what he could push with Justin, right then.

"No ... that's fine," said Justin. At least if he was there with JC when he was drinking, he'd be able to have a LITTLE control, over it. "Wine can be ... romantic, right?" He gave JC another smile.

JC smiled gratefully. "I hope so. It's, um ... the bottle of white; the pinot grigio. Do you know how to work a corkscrew?" JC let his voice take on an exaggeratedly patronizing tone so Justin couldn't miss the fact that he was teasing again.

"I'm familiar with screwing, yes," said Justin lightly, setting the plates on the table. "So, does that mean you're TRYING to be romantic for l'il 'ol me?"

JC laughed easily, most of his worries about everything that had happened earlier disappearing with their easy banter and the distraction caused by the cooking. "I'm not saying, one way or the other," he grinned as he grabbed the stuff for the appetizer and the salad out of the fridge and gestured for Justin to hand him the cutting board. "But does that mean it's working?"

"Maybe," teased Justin, handing it over easily. "Maybe I don't want to say. Maybe I want you to keep doing it." He kissed JC's cheek quickly and went back to the table. "Do we need, like, salad bowls or something?" He frowned at the table. "My mom would put out something like salad bowls, wouldn't she?"

JC looked over his shoulder at the table as he sliced the tomato. "Huh? No. I mean, yeah, we do need them, but just put them over here. Looks good otherwise, baby boy." He grabbed the cheese and started slicing that as well. "You know you've made me all self-conscious about making you get some candles, though, right?"

Justin grinned. "There's nothing WRONG with being a little romantic, sometimes," he said. "If that's what you're doing, I mean ... "

"Well, right," JC played along, placing the tomato and cheese on a plate and covering it with olive oil and basil. "*IF* that was what I was doing." He handed the plate to Justin to put on the table, and turned on the other burner so he could start sauteeing the shrimp. He smiled more broadly. "The real question is whether you'd recognize it."

"Maybe," said Justin, leaning over the table and making SURE JC was watching his ass. "I've never had anyone be romantic over me. I might miss it if they didn't hit me over the head with it."

"Hmm," JC agreed wordlessly, biting his lip and turning back to the stove. "So," he swallowed, "candles?" Everything was almost ready; he just had to put the salad together and drain the pasta. And manage to do it all without letting Justin sidetrack him any more.

Justin smirked a little, watching the light flush that covered JC's cheeks when he turned back to the stove, and found a couple candles in the drawer in the living room. They didn't keep any nice candleholders around, really -- nothing *romantic* -- but he found something that would do. "You might have to hit a little harder than THAT," he murmured in JC's ear on his way back into the room.

JC kicked out at Justin as he ran the noodles under some water and transferred them to a bowl before adding the shrimp and oil. "Are you going to make me be all cliche and say something like: you'll KNOW when I'm trying to be romantic?" His voice broke a little anyway, when Justin turned off the overhead light.

"No, I'm just trying to get you to caress me," said Justin softly. "Did I even come close?"

"Go sit down," JC told him, wanting the tangible barrier of the table between them. "And stop with the temptress act. I'll do anything you want me to, after you at least TRY this." He set the bowl down, and went to grab the salads.

"Anything?" teased Justin. The smile hasn't really left his face since JC started making dinner. "And 'temptress'? Jeez ... next thing I know you're going to be trying to get me into a dress."

JC smirked. "TELL me that's not what you were acting like, and I'll take it back. And for the love of Pete, SIT DOWN." He grinned, juggling the bowls and the wineglasses and made his way to the table for hopefully the last time. "We can negotiate what 'anything' entails after we eat."

Justin sat down obediently. "I wasn't being a temptress," he said with a pretty pout. "I was just being ... me."

"Right," JC snorted, setting the salad down in front of Justin and sliding into his seat. He smiled when he realized that Justin had set their places right next to each other, and his leg brushed against Justin's when he placed his napkin in his lap. "Are you pouring?"

"Could you?" asked Justin, his big, wide eyes and fluttering eyelashes visible behind his thick glasses. "Are you sure I'm, you know, competent to do that? It does involve a foodish substance, after all."

"If I do it, you have to give the toast," JC warned him, sliding the candles over slightly so he could reach the wine.

The words 'you're the expert' were on the tip of Justin's tongue, but he didn't say them. They could just be taken in TOO many bad ways, right then. Instead, he said. "YOU'RE supposed to be romancing ME, right?" Then he smiled again, brightly and innocently.

JC arched an eyebrow. "That hasn't been established." He held the bottle over one of the wineglasses, watching Justin expectantly. "Your choice, Justin."

"Pour," said Justin softly. "And what do we need a toast for, anyway?"

JC's smile faltered a bit. "Are you telling me to pour, or volunteering to do it? And ... I thought we had something to celebrate. Is that ... don't we?"

"Sure we do," said Justin, not wanting to see JC's smile fade. "I just thought ... maybe a kiss and a grope would do." He winked, to show he was teasing. "I can do the toast," he added. "I have a lot of things I can say."

The relief was apparent on JC's face as he filled both wineglasses. "You'll get your groping." He grinned a little nervously and held up his glass.

Justin held up his glass and smiled and thought about what to say. So many things that he wanted to were just too loaded, even though they were the things he wanted to express. "I just -- " he began, then paused and blushed. "I'm not very good at this, after all," he confessed.

That smile threatened to disappear again. "Okay," JC said softly. "You know, 'to us' would do just fine."

Justin grins. "To us, then," he said, pursing his lips and blowing JC a kiss. "To everything we've been and everything that's still to come."

"Very nice," JC nodded, and they clinked glasses. If maybe his first couple sips were too big ... well, sometimes that happened. He passed Justin the plate with the tomato and mozzarella. "Here, try this first."

"It smells REALLY good," said Justin, helping himself. He didn't have the table grace that JC did, but at least he didn't feel like a clod. "I'm glad we're finally having dinner," he added. "I've been looking forward to it for, well, a while now."

That made JC smile again. "Me, too," he said a little eagerly. "It's a bit overdue." It really was one of the only ways JC could think to show Justin that he was taking this seriously, whether he was technically "romancing" him or not. And JC wasn't quite sure what it meant that it took so many attempts for him to be able to do it successfully.

"Mmm, this IS good," said Justin, taking around his mouthful. "Thank you."

JC smiled tenderly, and blushed. Even talking with food in his mouth, Justin looked wonderful to JC -- sitting so close, with bright eyes, in the soft light from the candles. "You're welcome," he mumbled, knowing he was staring. "Let me know when you want me to serve you some of the pasta."

"Almost done," mumbled Justin with a bit of a smile. "Tell me if I'm pigging out and being gross, okay?" He flushes a bit, the red just coloring his cheekbones.

It occured to JC how ridiculous it was that they were both sitting there blushing at each other, with everything they'd been through together. "Ah, no," he said softly, taking a bite of his salad. "You just flatter the chef."

Justin laughed, *after* swallowing. "You're a wonderful chef," he said. "Can I have some pasta now?" His stomach growled and he blushed deeper.

JC laughed too. "No, I meant ... when you're pigging out -- not that you ARE -- it flatters the chef. It wasn't, like, a *hint*." He chuckled again, and served Justin some of the shrimp, before touching his hand briefly.

"I know," said Justin, smiling at him broadly. "It was the asking for the pasta that was the compliment." He shivered and bit his lip at JC's tender touch.

JC lounged back in his chair and watched Justin, sipping at his wine slowly. He'd had a bit of the shrimp; that, with the salad, was more than he usually ate for dinner. He was just enjoying seeing how Justin reacted to everything; not just the food, but being treated to someone DOING this for him.

"Um ... " Justin held up his plate. "Can I have a bit more?" he asked. He was a bit embarrassed, asking, because of how little JC had eaten. He felt a bit like a pig. But ... he was hungry, and it WAS good.

"Of course," JC said gently, touching Justin's hand again so he'd put the plate back down and let JC serve him. "Save a *little* room for dessert, though. And before you ask ... no, that was NOT a euphamism."

Justin chuckled. "I watched you make dinner. You did NOT make dessert." He winked. "Unless It's whipped cream. I bet I can figure out what to do with THAT."

"Sorry," JC said dryly. "That shit is so fattening ... just, no. I got sorbet." He leaned back again, twirling the leftover pasta on his plate around his fork idly.

Justin put his fork down, his smile fading. "I guess that's a hint that I ate too much, huh." He pushed his plate away and looked up at JC. His smile returns faintly. "That was wonderful. Thank you."

JC looked up in surprise. "What? No, no ... I was talking about the *whipped cream* ... " He stared at Justin, then smiled tentatively. "Don't start. You know if you ate any less, I'd develop some complex about you waking up in the middle of the night to fix yourself a sandwich because you had to force yourself to eat the garbage I call dinner."

"It was just REALLY good," admitted Justin, smiling back a little more widely. "And there's NOTHING wrong with whipped cream, I'll have you know. Even though I've never used it for ... "

"Right, okay!" JC cut him off. "We don't need to go there. Seriously, are you finished? You can have more; I didn't mean to make you self-conscious about it. And ... I'm really glad you enjoyed it; maybe enough to let me do it again, sometime?" He tried, with marginal success, to keep the uncertainty out of his voice.

"ANY time," said Justin with enthusiasm, finishing what was on his plate. "You know I can't cook to save my life. Have YOU ever? With ... whipped cream, or anything else? I'm just curious ... "

JC raised an eyebrow as he stood up, grabbing his plate and the serving platter. "What are you asking me, *exactly*?" He didn't really have an opportunity to tease Justin about his inexperience that often, so he wasn't about to pass up the chance while they were both in good moods.

Justin sighed in exasperation, still grinning a little. "You KNOW what I mean. During, like, making out. Or sex or whatever. Don't LOOK at me like that," he laughed. "It's not like I can eat it off MYSELF to any effect."

JC smirked as he put the dishes in the sink. "I suppose it does lose something," he agreed. "Are you asking for details, or will a simple 'yes' do?"

Justin wanted to ask for details, but he was afraid that they would come connected to the name 'Joey'. "Is that a yes, then?" he asked, instead.

Laughing mischievously, JC grabbed Justin's plate. "Curious, much?"

"Yes, okay?" chuckled Justin. "Come ON, JC. Now you're just teasing."

JC winked. "Okay, yes; it's a yes. But not whipped cream. Or chocolate sauce, either." He made a face as he grabbed the last of the bowls off the table.

"What, then?" asked Justin, a little TOO eagerly. He blushed again. "Um ... I mean ... "

JC laughed as he ran water in the sink to let everything soak, even as he tried to remember an instance of using food during sex where 'food' didn't just mean body shots or licking champagne off someone's nipples -- not what Justin had in mind, he figured. "Do you have something in mind, baby boy?" he asked tauntingly.

Justin laughed nervously. "I never ... thought about it," he admitted. "Until now, maybe. It's just ... not something that was a part of my sex life. Before you."

JC turned off the faucet and sauntered back to the table, watching Justin as he bent over to blow out one of the candles. "Bored in bed with me, already?" he asked, in a deep voice.

"Not even close," said Justin, his heart starting to pound a little. "I ... God, you're hot right now."

"Yeah?" JC made a noncommittal noise, and moved the rest of the candles, still lit, over to the counter. He swept an arm slowly over the table, then lounged against it, staring at Justin with his lower lip caught between his teeth.

Justin reached for JC's shirt, tugged on it to get him closer. "So hot. So wonderful. So *mine*."

JC let Justin pull him closer, but kept his head turned to the side, staring at the table. "Yeah?" he repeated.

"You better be," Justin said, his voice verging on a growl now. "I ... want you." He tugged harder, then let go and ran his hand over JC's clothed crotch. "You turn me on SO much, JC. You don't even know."

JC raised his eyebrow again, putting every ounce of energy he had into not reacting to Justin's hand on the front of his pants. He still didn't say anything, just cocked his head to the side, his lips parted slightly and his tongue darting out to wet them.

"SAY something," insisted Justin, letting go of him entirely. "DO something. JC, LOOK at me," he pleaded.

JC stumbled back, catching himself with his hands against the edge of the table. He gripped it tightly, then looked up with huge eyes. "Do you plan on showing me?"

"Every day," breathed Justin. "Every time you'll let me." He touched JC again, slid his hand up under his shirt and stroked his skin.

Turning his head again, JC started scratching at the surface of the table. It was becoming more of a struggle to feign indifference at Justin's looks and Justin's words and Justin's *fingers*, but he had vowed to himself that he wouldn't initiate sex again, until Justin had at least ONCE since they reconciled.

"JC!" pleaded Justin, tugging on the waist of his pants. "Come HERE. Let me ... touch you. I don't care WHO sees. I want you so bad, JC, I always want you ... "

"You should ... show me," JC told him haltingly, his back arching slightly as he stretched his arms back further across the top of the table. "Right here. Show me."

Justin exhaled loudly. "Oh God," he moaned, getting up out of his chair and leaning over JC"s body. He pushed his shirt up and sucked on the smooth flesh of JC's stomach.

JC sucked in a breath and leaned backward even farther, letting one hand drift to Justin's head. The other he kept braced on the table, fingers gripping tightly in direct contrast to how he held on to Justin. "What?" he murmured, after a moment.

Justin didn't answer, his lips busy on JC's skin and hands busy with his pants. He dipped his tongue in JC's navel and thrusted, closing his eyes and imagining he was thrusting somewhere ... else.

JC's legs buckled a little from the wet heat of Justin's tongue on his skin, and had to let go of him to support himself with both arms. "Mmm, Justin," he squirmed.

Justin finally managed to get his pants undone, then grasped JC's waist with both hands. His lips moved up to JC's chest, his nose nudging the shirt higher.

"DAMN, Justin," JC gasped, his entire body flushing when he felt Justin's large hands spanning his hips. His arms collapsed a little too, bending at the elbow, as he was forced back further against the table.

"Guess we don't need the whipped cream," murmured Justin, licking one of JC's nipples and moving closer, pressing the length of his body against JC's. "You taste just fine."

"Good thing," JC bit out, his head rolling back. "I told you I didn't get any." Justin's body was warm and taut where it brushed against JC's bare skin, and he had to wonder why Justin had stopped undressing him.

"You wanna ... participate?" mumbled Justin, taking one hand off JC's waist to push his shirt higher.

JC struggled to pick his head back up, leveling a look at Justin. "You've got me hard, half-undressed, and sweating for you. Unfortunately, my arms are kinda ... holding me up right now." He gasped at Justin's hand brushed past his nipple again. "You wanna tell me what else I can do?"

Justin grinned at him a bit. "That'll do," he agreed. bringing both hands back to JC's waist to tug his pants down. He fell to his knees and mouthed JC's erection through his underwear.

"That's not anything more than I was doing *before*," JC groaned, then fell silent when Justin's mouth closed around the tip of his cock, still through his boxer-briefs. He loved the fact that Justin was taking control, but couldn't help but be curious about where he was going with that control. He didn't try to keep his hips from bucking under Justin's hands, either.

Justin squeezed his hips with strong fingers, his saliva soaking through the fabric quickly. A moment later he tugged JC's pants completely off, dropping them on the kitchen floor.

"Whatcha gonna do to me," JC breathed, his chest heaving as he struggled to slow his pulse. His shoulders were starting to burn from having to hold himself up like he was, and he couldn't interpret the look Justin was giving him.

"I was thinking I'd maybe like to be inside you," murmured Justin, staring at JC's body. "If that's okay with you ... "

JC moaned and fell backward onto one elbow, his torso draped awkwardly over the edge of the table. "You need to learn how to do this without being so overly considerate," he grumbled, wanting Justin's tongue on his body again.

"Well, I WAS," said Justin, licking the inside of JC's thigh, "until you ASKED."

"Sure, blame me," JC exhaled, his cock jerking at the feel of Justin's mouth on his leg. He hissed, then, and spread his legs wider. "Just keep doing it. It, whatever. Okay? Fuck."

"Wasn't planning on stopping," said Justin huskily, tugging at JC's underwear. "Fuck," he said once they were down to mid-thigh, and literally lifted JC's ass up onto the table, then pulled them the rest of the way off.

JC's jaw dropped at the way Justin just *handled* him like that, and realized he was suddenly a hundred times closer to coming than he had been five seconds prior. He pulled himself further back onto to the table, wondering if he could dare hope that Justin actually intended to take advantage of where he'd placed JC's body. "Holy .. oh YEAH," he moaned, grinning slowly.

"That's better," said Justin, still on his knees. He took the tip of JC's cock into his mouth and sucked on it confidently. "Definitely taste good," he murmured as he slid his lips off, a stream of saliva still connecting them. He wrapped his arms around JC's calves and slid JC's cock into his mouth again.

"Shit!" JC hissed. He had just been about to pull his legs up and drape them over Justin's back when the younger man had grabbed them, preventing ANY movement. He couldn't buck deeper into Justin's mouth, nor could he pull back when the sensation was too much. He bit his lip tightly shut, but it couldn't keep a pitiful whimper from escaping his mouth regardless.

Justin let his lips slide off JC again. "I need to get these pants off before I split a seam," he muttered, and stripped quickly and without ceremony. "You make me so hard, C. SO hard."

JC struggled to sit up and yank his own shirt off. "Yeah?" he said, falling back into their earlier pattern of banter after tossing the material to the floor and leaning back on his elbows again, watching Justin approach.

Justin pulled his own shirt off, threw it over his shoulder without even watching where it landed. "SO hard," he repeated as he sauntered up to him, spread JC's thighs with his hands. "Can this table take both of us, or am I gonna do this standing up, do you think?" And he smiled hungrily.

JC swallowed visibly. "Um," he said, his thighs twitching under Justin's palms. "Um ... " He'd never seen that predatory look on Justin's face, EVER, and was eager and unsure about what he could expect.

"That," said Justin, planting a hand on either side of JC's waist and leaning over him, "is NOT an answer."

"Um," JC repeated for the third time, unintentionally and virtually silently, then gave Justin a sheepish smile. He tried to hook his legs around the back of Justin's knees, to tug him closer.

Justin moved fractionally closer. "I'm a very, very bad learner," he confessed, his voice deep and lustful. "I don't have a condom, JC. I might have to finger fuck you until you come, instead."

"But then ... what about ... you?" JC panted, his legs sprawling apart wider. He couldn't beg for Justin to fuck him without a condom, he just *couldn't*.

Justin licked his lips. "What I'd LIKE to do," he said, "is just move forward ... just a little bit ... and just drive right into you. Because, you know, I could. I could do that ... right ... now ... "

JC shuddered again and braced one of his feet up on the edge of the table, lifting his hips and opening himself to Justin as much as he could. But even as he reached his arms straight above his head to clutch at the far end of the table, a clear invitation, he tried to plead with Justin. "God, Justin ... I -- I want your dick filling me, but ... just go get one." He tilted his hips up again. "It'll ... take two seconds to walk down to the bathroom. I won't ... go anywhere, I won't even *touch* myself until you get back ..."

Justin moaned and bit his lip. "When, C?" he whispered, teasing at JC's hole with the tip of his cock, sliding JC's ass down so that it was right at the edge of the table. "When can we do it without, baby?" He sucked a finger into his mouth to coat it with saliva, then brought it, too, down to JC's hole, sliding it in without hesitation. "When?"

The whimper that JC let out when he felt Justin's hands around his waist again was loud, louder even than the one he made when Justin's finger entered him. He let his head fall back onto the table with a bang that was pretty loud, too. Justin was really going to do this: he was going to fuck him on top of the kitchen table, and JC was risking him changing his mind by being a hypocritical goody-goody and insisting on protection when he'd already let Justin do it without, twice? He tried to clutch Justin's hips closer by wrapping his leg around him again.

Justin grinned. "Yeah, that's it," he said, thrusting his finger in and out of JC's body. "Now you got it." He used a second finger and started scissoring them, trying to get JC stretched open as wide as he could; he didn't have any real lube, and didn't think EITHER one of them was in any hurry to go and get some. Or a condom. Or do anything, really, except fuck each other's brains out. "You think you're ready for me, C? You think you're ready for this?"

JC moaned his assent, practically floored by the aggressive way Justin was preparing him on top of the dirty way he was talking. "What," he panted, arching his back to try to get Justin's fingers deeper. "What have I got?" His arms were rigid above his head, and he could feel the pre-cum dripping off his cock onto his belly.

"The idea," moaned Justin, still thrusting his fingers. "And ... me." He withdrew his fingers and coated his cock with saliva and pre-cum -- both his and JC's. He grabbed JC's waist and pulled him right to the edge of the table again, let JC wrap both his legs around him. "I'm so fucking hot for you, C," said Justin as he slowly slid his cock into JC's body, gripping his waist firmly. "You're so right." The initial sensations of penetration were incredible; Justin's legs felt weak and he had to close his eyes for a moment to stay in control of himself.

"And I'm so fucking weak, for you," JC bit out, picking up his head to watch Justin enter him, digging his heels into the small of Justin's back. He had given him only the most nominal of protests, but he couldn't bring himself to care with the hot, hard heat of Justin's cock forcing its way into his body. And the angle, having Justin stand ... even without moving, the pleasure was intense.

Justin couldn't thrust for a moment, had to wait and make sure he could still STAND. JC was so hot and so tight and it was sending little shocks of pleasure straight to his brain. Finally, he gripped JC's waist tightly, braced himself and thrust shallowly into him, trying to find a good balance to do this. "Oh God," he breathed. "This is incredible. YOU'RE incredible, C ... "

JC was completely unable to meet Justin's thrusts; the back of his head knocked against the table as he basically went limp in Justin's grip, letting the other man just pump JC along his cock. This was never going to last -- JC was too worked up, and hypersensitive to the sensations because he was sober, and practically out of his mind at seeing this side of Justin. "Oh, *fuck* yeah," he growled, running a hand through his own hair to get it out of his face. "Couldn't stand it, could you?"

"Why didn't you TELL me it was this good?" asked Justin in a hoarse whisper, throwing his head back as he thrust. When he looked at JC, he saw he was still hard, still leaking, and took it as a sign that he wasn't the ONLY one enjoying this. His fingers were leaving marks in JC's hips, but neither of them really noticed. Justin's thighs pumped against the table and he jerked JC toward him again, just past the edge of the table. "Just hang on, baby," he said roughly, and closed his eyes as he felt JC's legs tighten around him.

"Why didn't I ... what?" JC panted, arching his neck as Justin drove into to him particularly deeply. He had no idea what Justin was talking about; he HAD told him, repeatedly, and -- he thought -- showed him as well. Unless he was talking about the table, now slick with sweat against JC's back ... JC picked his head up in alarm and scrambled to grasp at the table when he felt his hips slide off the edge.

"I've got you," Justin assured him, hanging onto him tightly. "Oh, C ... so good ... " He would let go of his hips, stroke him or touch him or even kiss him if he could, but the position demanded that he just hang on and drive into him and let it take them away. He shifted JC back onto the table so he would feel more secure, never stopping his thrusts, never even slowing down.

JC's gut clenched when Justin took the time to reassure him, and then again when he was surprisingly gentle in moving his body back up on the table. "Oh," he breathed, opening his eyes. "Justin ... get up here ... " He groped at Justin's arms futilely, trying to get him to join JC on top of the table, needing to feel Justin's weight smothering him. "Please!" he cried out, as he felt his orgasm building in his balls and his back and the base of his cock.

"If the table breaks," Justin managed to tease as he tilted JC's hips, forced his legs higher up Justin's back, "YOU get to explain it." He thrust himself deeply into JC's body and held himself there as he dextrously slid up onto the table, on his knees at first. Then he slid his legs down as he covered JC's body with his own, and finally claimed that kiss he'd been wanting. A moment later, he began thrusting again, with almost the same rhythm and intensity, bracing himself on the edges of the table, now.

JC barely heard his comment, the blood rushing inside his ears as he tried unsuccessully to stave off his orgasm. "Fuck," his voice hitched as he reached up behind his head to hold on to Justin's wrists. "Oh god FUCK I'm weak." Both his back and neck arched up into Justin at his very first thrust after the kiss, and JC came quickly and explosively between their bodies before falling pliant almost immediately.

Justin shouted as JC came, and thrust a few more times before his own orgasm hit, practically blinding him in its intensity. He hung onto the table as he rode it out, then clung to JC's shoulders and kissed him over and over again. He stayed inside him as long as he possibly could.

JC's breath was raspy as he slowly let go of Justin's arms, flushing at the sensation of Justin's cum seeping out of him. He didn't lower his legs, not wanting any movement to be interpreted as a request for Justin to let go of him, and welcomed Justin's tongue into his mouth gladly. He draped his own arms backward off the edge of the table, and stretched, and smiled.

"Wow," whispered Justin in his ear as he more or less collapsed against him. He finally had to let his softening cock slip out of JC's ass as he stretched out his legs a little, still keeping JC's thighs wide apart. "JC ... I have NO idea where that came from ... " he added, nipping at JC's earlobe.

JC's eyes squeezed shut when he felt Justin's teeth on his ear, groaning as the blood rushed back to his groin as a result ... assisted too by the way Justin was keeping him in such a compromising position. "No?" he exhaled, tilting his head back again. "Please don't tell me I have to worry about you *regretting* this ... "

"What, are you KIDDING?" laughed Justin incredulously. "That was incredible, C. It ... still is. You?" His teeth grazed JC's ear again before he began sucking on the flesh just behind it. "Taste so good," he murmured, the same way he'd been saying it since he started this.

"God," JC groaned again, bending his elbows so he could clasp Justin's forearms, still resting on either side of his head. "You know how it felt," he purred, then tried to squirm away from Justin's lips. "Stoppit. I warned you, about the biting ... " The other man's breath was hot on his neck, and JC was now *seriously* in danger of growing hard again.

"Maybe I want you to tell me," said Justin, almost growling into his ear. "Maybe I need you to tell me I did good, C." He licked the lobe, then pulled his head back to kiss JC's lips again. His eyes were bright and eager and showed that maybe he really DID need to hear it, as much as he'd needed to be shown.

JC's lips curved into a grin, and he moistened them slowly with his tongue after Justin pulled back. "I never was much of an auditory learner, myself," he murmured, staring up into Justin's face. "But if you need to hear that I could've come from the minute you grabbed my waist and threw me up on this table, I can tell you that. If you need to hear that I had to force myself NOT to come when you shoved your dick in me, without any lube, without a condom when you *know* you shouldn'tve ... I can tell you that, too." He smiled briefly to let Justin know he wasn't angry, then pulled his face down so he could growl in *Justin's* ear. "And if you need to hear that you're gonna make me hard for you again if you bite me one more time, I can tell you that. Or ... you can figure it out for yourself."

Justin grinned and bit JC's lower lip teasingly. "Thanks," he whispered as he licked over the same spot to soothe it. "I needed that." He reached back and ran his hand along JC's strong thigh. "How long before I get to know what that's like, C? What it's like to have you inside me, naked, to FEEL that?"

JC shoved at Justin playfully with his free hand, not sure whether that all-too-brief nibble was meant as an invitation to let himself go again, or not. His other fingers trailed idly up and down Justin's wrist. "You're not," he said softly, still smiling, hoping that Justin won't let the serious nature of what they're talking about ruin any afterglow. "And I can't believe we did it again with YOU not wearing one. That's really ... we'll just have to stash them in every room, is all."

Justin looked crushed. "JC ... why? What does it matter, now? I want to FEEL that, too." He looked away for a moment, stopped himself from saying 'it's not fair' like some child having a temper tantrum. "You don't know how much ... " he added softly, kissing him, caressing his skin, trying to get him to change his mind and not caring about any consequences right now.

JC recognized what Justin was trying to do, and gritted his teeth even as he turned his head to expose his neck better to Justin. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, hitching his legs up around Justin's waist a little tighter. "Justin ... are you going to make me give you a safe sex refresher? Remind you about how you're obviously clean, but I may not be?" He swallowed. "And that's bad, no matter WHO is the one not wearing the condom ... but there's a better chance that it's worse if it's me. Okay?"

"Fuck," said Justin, pulling back and forcing JC's legs to fall to the table. "Fine. Obviously it's okay to do it when YOU want to be fucked, but not when I do." He leaned back, up off of JC's body, and ended up sitting on the edge of the table, his legs dangling over the side, his back to JC but still right between JC's legs. "So, what, I NEVER get to know what that's like? Is that what you're telling me? Because that really SUCKS, JC." He wrapped his hand around JC's ankle and rubbed it tenderly with his thumb, a motion completely incongruous with his words.

JC lay there in shock for a minute, shivering at the absence of Justin's warm weight on top of him. The he scrambled up onto his elbows, staring back and forth between Justin's back and bowed head, and his hand on JC's ankle. He was too surprised, and just ... well, too SURPRISED to get angry at Justin's accusation that it had anything to do with not wanting to be bothered by it when he was waiting for Justin to be inside him. "I can't ... are you *serious*, Justin? You really think that's ... THAT'S what this is about? I ... " His voice faltered. "I can only assure you that I'm only doing this to try and keep you safe. You've ... you've done it with, and you've done it without ... you think I'd willingly put a condom on, every time, if there wasn't a really fucking important reason?"

"No," said Justin softly, looking down at his dangling feet. "But you can get tested and shit, right? I mean ... you don't have to be telling me NEVER." He scooted back a little closer to JC, but still sitting over the edge of the table, and stroked JC's calf with his other hand. He sighed softly and bit his lip, trying to be reasonable about this even thought he didn't WANT to be. "If you were me, and you'd never ... wouldn't you be wanting it too, C?"

JC took a breath and pushed one of his feet into Justin's lap. "I didn't SAY never," he said even more softly. "You did. Is that ... are you asking me to get tested, Justin?" He was actually going to bring it up himself, until he got scared when he realized that essentially implied a commitment of six months where there hadn't been any firm *time frame* before.

"Yeah, I guess I am," said Justin quietly. "Especially if it'll make you confident enough to make love to me without a condom. I REALLY want to experience that with you, JC." He rubbed the sole of JC's foot, made sure it didn't start rubbing against any sensitive areas -- he both wanted that and DIDN'T want it, and decided he'd just feel better if he was in control of things right now. He turns his head a little, so he could just see JC. "Will you?"

JC fell back onto the table and stared up at the ceiling. It was so bad, SO bad that he'd never been tested before ... and even worse was the fact that the reason he hadn't *wasn't* because he was lazy, or scared of what he'd find out -- but because he was fucking *petrified* of having his blood drawn. And now Justin, whom he cared about more than anything but who he still had only been together with for a few *weeks*, was asking him to do just that. He sighed. "You know you have to now, too," he stalled.

"I'm okay with that," said Justin, turning a little more. "We could do it together ... I mean, if you're willing." He hesitated, then, and tried to read JC's expression. "If you're not, then ... I don't know what. I guess we just keep on like we have been, or something." He rubbed JC's calf a little more. "I guess ... really ... it depends on what YOU want ... " That came out a little sad, as Justin realized this was another one of those things he couldn't control, and he had to accept that he had to live with JC"s decision on it, that it was out of his hands.

JC still wasn't looking at Justin, apparently fascinated by the ceiling and chewing on the inside of his cheek. He did NOT want to admit that he was scared to do it, but if he asked Justin if he could take some time to think about it, he was sure Justin would think it was because he wasn't prepared to make that kind of commitment. Which wasn't entirely untrue anyway. "Let me just ... " he started, and sighed, bringing his elbow up to cover his eyes. "Can we talk about it later?" His voice was muffled. "I promise you we will, and this isn't a 'no,' just ... "

Justin looked away and nodded. "Fine," he said, hopping off the table. "I need to go get cleaned up. You need me to hand you your clothes, JC?" He bent over and picked his own up, holding them like a shield in front of his body when he stood up again. He couldn't keep his eyes from roaming up and down JC's body when he looked at him, but he didn't feel much like anything more. Didn't even get aroused, really, which was a bit of an unpleasant surprise.

JC could hear Justin distancing himself just by his voice, and was sorely tempted to curl up into a ball and cry ... if it wouldn't look absolutely ridiculous up on the table. He sat up slowly and avoided Justin's eyes as he hopped down, too. "Thanks," he murmured as he took his pants and underwear from Justin, then walked around the other side of the table to grab his shirt. He looked at the surface of the table, which was sorely in need of some cleaning up as well, then ran a hand over his own stomach. "Did you ... I mean, were you going to shower? I thought maybe ..."

"Yeah, I was," said Justin slowly, eyeing him almost suspicously. Surprised by the implied request. "I don't ... get this, JC. Look, I'm tired of being confused. We can *talk* about it later ... but can you just tell me plainly what the problem is? Is it that you just don't care about ever being able to have sex with me bare? Or are you, like, scared you might have something? I guess ... everything else is saying that you're not rejecting me ... but it feels like you are, so ... "

That was even worse, actually; because it would be easy to just tell Justin the problem and then not have to haggle over it, except that then it looked like JC *didn't* care enough about Justin to get over it and do it. After all, he'd had to get shots when the group had gone to Africa, and he guessed that Justin wouldn't see this as being different. "C'mon," he said finally, reaching out for Justin's elbow. "I'm not rejecting you. Come shower with me." Now that he was thinking about it, anyway, he couldn't help but be a little defensive that the real reason *hadn't* occured to Justin -- it wasn't like his phobia wasn't common knowledge.

"I ... um ... no," said Justin, almost reluctantly shaking his head. "I don't think so, JC. You can wait, right? Or did you want to go first? I can go ahead and clean up in here, then." He gestured at the kitchen. It wasn't like he didn't want to shower with JC, but he was feeling too vulnerable, too distant right now to really enjoy it. And he wasn't much in the mood to make it good for JC either. After everything they'd said and everything they'd been though, JC STILL wouldn't just fucking tell him what was wrong.

JC's hand was left hanging in the air and he didn't even bother to try and mask his hurt look. He did bend over and yank on his underwear roughly before walking over to the sink to grab the sponge. "No, no. Be my guest," he muttered. "You called it first." He rested his hands on the counter and hunched his shoulders, keeping his back to Justin and wondering if he *might* actually cry over this.

Justin felt faintly guilty for causing that look on JC's face, but he couldn't figure out what he'd done *wrong*. He lay a gentle hand on JC's shoulder, then kissed it. "I wish you'd just tell me things sometimes," he said softly, then let go of him to pick up the last of his clothes from the kitchen floor.

JC stepped backward as soon as Justin moved from behind him, and reached over to flip on the overhead light. It bathed the room in a harsh flourescent glow, and would have destroyed the mood sharply if there was anything left to destroy. "Yeah, well," he muttered tearfully to himself as he dampened the sponge, halfway not caring whether Justin heard him or not. "Remind me to tell you someday what *I* wish."

"Why is 'someday' never now, huh, JC?" asked Justin quietly. "Why do you never talk to me? Why do you have to be all OBSCURE and shit, when I'm willing to pour my heart out to you?" He grabbed JC's arm. "Don't you fucking know a good thing when you've got it?"

"Get OFF me," JC jerked his arm away, keeping his head down as he moved over to the table and started swiping the sponge across it angrily. "I talk to you. I TRIED to talk to you earlier, about my day, but ... as usual ... we had to deal with some drama instead. I'm ... not in the mood to repeat it."

Justin let go of him, backed away a couple steps. "Okay, how about we just don't have sex anymore?" he said bitterly. "That'd solve ALL our fucking problems." He glared at JC for a moment, then turned around and left the room. "Fucker."

"Then what the fuck's LEFT?" JC yelled after him, then threw the sponge on the table and collapsed in a chair. *Crying it is,* he thought to himself as the tears pooled in his eyes. That was the first time he could remember NOT being the one to leave, and NOT being the one that let go too soon after sex, and NOT being the one that made everything go to hell.

Justin ran the water as hot as he could stand it and stepped in, practically scalding his skin. No matter what he did, he couldn't be anything more to JC than someone to fuck. And it was fucking breaking his heart, and he was going to LET it, because it was all he had.

Maybe *because* he honestly felt like it *wasn't* his fault this time, JC only waited for a moment before fisting his tears away angrily and stalking down the hall to the bathroom. When he was to blame he had too much pride to admit he was wrong and chase after Justin; that wasn't going to be holding him back this time.

Justin stood under the spray and scrubbed at his body angrily, trying to get all traces of JC off him. Because once again, it had been WONDERFUL sex, and he'd thought things were finally going to be good between them, and then JC did something to remind Justin that he DIDN'T love him, didn't trust him enough to talk to him, and probably never would.

JC kicked the door open and then slammed it shut behind him before yanking the shower curtain open. He stepped into the stall purposefully, still wearing his boxers, and grabbed the washcloth out of Justin's hand without looking at him or saying a word.

"What the fuck?" said Justin angrily. "What are you DOING, JC?"

"Showering with you like I wanted to in the first place," JC snapped, placing a firm hand on Justin's chest but rubbing his belly delicately with the washcloth. "Which you can also interpret as not letting you leave, if you choose."

"I'd rather you talked to me than showered with me," said Justin, but he didn't try to get JC to leave, and didn't leave himself. Not this time.

"I was *trying*," JC hissed, crouching down a little to rub the soap over Justin's thighs. "And ... god, why the fuck's the water so hot?"

"I like it that way," lied Justin. "And you WEREN'T talking to me ... not really ... and I don't know WHY." He tried not to let himself get turned on by the way JC was touching him, but it was hopeless. No matter HOW angry he was, ot had been, it was already fading. "Is it just ME, that you can't talk to?"

"Justin!" JC sighed exasperatedly, turning Justin around so he could reach his back. "I was fucking TALKING to you, okay? I WAS. We talked about Joey. We talked about ... us, again. We talked about fucking getting tested for STDs, Justin ... how many more soul-wrenching questions do you HAVE today, anyway?"

"Just the one," said Justin. "Then one where you explain to me why you don't want to ... " He sighed. "Never mind. It doesn't matter. We'll just keep on."

"Fine," JC said shortly, pausing as he held the washcloth just above Justin's ass and swallowed before giving the skin there the most cursory of strokes. "Are you going to take back what you said, at least?"

"Take back what?" asked Justin. "Take back what, JC? What did I do?"

JC grabbed Justin's shoulder and turned him back around to face him, only to shove the washcloth back in his hand and pull the shower curtain open again. He barely resisted saying something along the lines of: 'if you don't know, I'm not going to tell you'. "Besides the part where you called me a fucker," he said evenly, "I guess I was referring to your suggestion of abstinence."

"I was mad," muttered Justin. "I AM mad. Don't you ever say stupid shit when you're mad? And don't tell me you don't, because I'll KNOW you're lying."

"What the fuck are you MAD about?" JC asked curiously, yanking the curtain shut again after stepping out, leaving Justin under the water. He grabbed a nearby towel and started rubbing vigorously at his hair.

"I'm mad that you NEVER want to make love to me," shouted Justin over the rushing water. "I'm mad that you won't TALK to me about it, even when I beg. I'm mad that I love you and I TAKE that kind of shit. I'm mad that you don't know HOW to do this, any more than I do. I'm mad that things aren't easy and perfect."

JC poked his head around the edge of the curtain and stared at Justin for a moment, his mouth open, ready to say something. But he had no idea what to say. He could disagree, but Justin WAS mad, and their fighting today had already been more vicious than most. He shook his head, then, and tugged the curtain closed before sitting on the toilet. "Complications, huh?" he muttered, not caring if Justin heard or not.

"Yeah," said Justin, more to himself than to JC. "Complications. But I'm stuck with 'em now because I'm fucking in love with you. Why's it so hard to talk to me?"

"Justin, I swear to God ... " JC trailed off, mollified by his second declaration of love in thirty seconds ... and stood up, having decided that sitting around in soaked underwear wasn't such a good plan. "Stop saying that. It isn't. You just ... fuck, you really know how to ask the hard-hitting stuff, y'know? And sometimes I *can't* talk about something when it's convenient for you. You have to let me do it on my own."

"I didn't even say we had to TALK about it, right then," said Justin, frustrated. "I just wanted to know what the FUCK was going on ... so I wouldn't feel like you didn't want me ... "

JC had to laugh bitterly at that as he tugged the wet material down over his knees. "Was it the fact that you had me halfway to hard again, when the sweat hadn't cooled and the cum hadn't dried from the first time, that had you confused?" He snorted. "Maybe it would help if you explain to me how me telling you what was going on, when I said I didn't want to talk about it right then, constitutes NOT talking about it right then."

"Because ... " said Justin, trying to find the right words. "I just wanted an answer. Not a discussion. Even if it was an answer that NEEDED a discussion ... later ... " He sighed and turned around to turn off the water. "Do you understand?"

JC threw another towel over the top of the bar. "No. Because -- are we still talking about the testing thing? -- because you would have taken my 'answer' and made up all sorts of shit about it, and let it fester, and then our discussion when I was READY to discuss it would be, like, a suicide mission. So no."

Justin sighed. "You know what kinds of answers I'm coming up with in my head," he said. "If I'd known you were so deadset against it, I never would have fucking brought it up. I just ... thought that fuc--making love to me would be something you wanted. I didn't want to ruin anything, okay?"

"And I didn't think you had, until you ran away," JC said a little more slowly, tying and untying his own towel around his waist.

"I was scared," said Justin simply.

"Ah," said JC. "Of me not wanting to make love to you? And that's related to me maybe not wanting to get tested, how?"

"I'll never feel you bare," said Justin quietly. "And maybe that's stupid to you, because you've had it a hundred times and it's no big deal. And it's not even just that ... but that you don't WANT me to have that. That h urts. Okay? And even THAT would be okay, if I just knew why."

JC jumped up on the sink, feeling a little foolish talking about something like this through the shower curtain. "Justin, I really wish it was something that we didn't have to worry about. But it is ... and it has nothing to do with not wanting you to be able to experience it. I promise. But ... look. Even if I say I'll get tested, it won't be an issue for another six months anyway. So can we not worry about it so intently NOW?"

Justin swept open the shower curtain and nodded at him, reaching his hand out and hoping JC would hand him a towel.

JC rolled his eyes and gestured impatiently at the towel he had hung over the shower rod for him. "Is that a yes, we don't have to worry?"

Justin squinted at him, seeing him gesture vaguely. "Huh?" he said. "I ... yeah, let's not worry, okay? Life's too fucking short."

"God, the towel's right there in front of your fucking face," JC said snidely, wanting to return the snub that Justin apparently delivered with ease.

Justin reached up and grabbed the towel, his face reddening. "You didn't have to do that," he said, and turned his back on JC.

"Sorry." JC closed his eyes so he couldn't watch Justin dry off. "Are you trying to, like, give me a taste of my own medicine, or something?"

"No!" said Justin. "I don't DO shit like that." He didn't turn around, didn't want to show JC the embarassment that still colored his cheeks.

"Shit like what?" JC asked in confusion, kicking out his legs and banging his heels on the cabinets. "I just meant ... we were talking about it, and then you just shut up."

"When?" asked Justin, wrapping the towel around his waist and turning back again, even though his face still felt hot. "Just now?"

"Yes, just now," JC sighed, leaning his head back on the mirror. "I was trying to explain that getting all worked up over it now, when it's like an eon away, wasn't worth the heartache. And you just ... clammed up."

"Maybe I just don't want to fight anymore," sighed Justin. "I DON'T understand and you KNOW I don't understand, but I can't force you to do anything about my obvious ignorance." He shrugged. "The fighting ... it's just not worth the time we waste on it, JC. It's not."

Whatever JC was expecting Justin to say, that wasn't it. Justin hadn't been this resigned, or detached, about anything in their relationship, ever. Even Joey. "Fine," JC said softly, hopping to his feet lightly. "I agree. I'll ... let you finish."

"That's it?" said Justin. "Okay." He steps gingerly out of the shower and grabs his foggy glasses off the counter.

"Okay," JC echoed uncomfortably, leaving the bathroom and not bothering to get any clothes on his way to the bar.

"JC," called Justin after him, suddenly, impulsively, but JC was already out the door. He hoped he could still hear him.

JC did hear, and stopped in the middle of the hall. But he didn't turn around, and he didn't respond, and he didn't return to the bathroom. He just stood still and waited.

Justin groped his way to the door and stuck his head out into the cool hallway. "JC," he said again.

"What," JC said, intending for it to be emotionless, but certain that it came out as pained as he felt.

"Wait, okay?" he said. "Just ... wait. Or, actually ... meet me in the bedroom? Maybe?"

JC sighed and stared at his hands for a minute. It wasn't like he could pretend he didn't want to, or need to, if he was being honest with himself. "Okay," he replied. "I'll be there soon." And he continued on to the bar.

Justin paused. "Okay," he said finally, and headed straight for the bedroom to put something on.

JC stared at the bottles behind the bar only to discover that he didn't really want anything to drink after all. Unlike the past week, it seemed like he'd get to sleep in Justin's room, and so didn't really *need* it to be able to tolerate his own lonely bed. Even more than that, everything was neutral between them now, neither of them more or less in the right. Justin had left earlier, but he had stayed when JC confronted him in the bathroom, and then he had even chased him out into the hall. ... Plus, if he was serious about trying not to fight with Justin, staying relatively sober could only help.

Instead, he walked back into the kitchen, tugging distractedly on his towel, to finish up the rest of the wine still sitting out on the counter. He figured there was no sense in letting it go to waste, and pulled a bowl out of the cupboard.

Justin took his still foggy glasses off and lay flat on the bed after pulling on only a pair of clean boxers. The room was quickly cooling off his body, which felt really, really good. His skin felt raw, but it was a *clean* raw. He figured he knew where JC was going, and just didn't want to deal with that on top of everything else. If JC was drinking they weren't going to be able to talk. And he had to fucking learn to ACCEPT that already.

JC grabbed two spoons, and then put one back after a moment's hesitation, shutting the drawer with his hip. Then he pulled the berries he had bought earlier out of the refrigerator, rinsed them off, and tugged the carton of sorbet out of the freezer. After carefully placing the berries around the scoops of the frozen dessert, he licked his thumb, polished off the last few drops of wine, and started down the hall to see if food would work as a peace offering for the second time that night.

After a few minutes, Justin began to worry that JC wasn't even going to COME, that he was going to perch himself down with a bottle of somethingorother -- whatever they had on hand, he supposed -- and forget that he ever had anything he wanted more. If he even did; Justin wasn't convinced of THAT, either. He did want JC to love him back, he could admit that to himself, but he'd settle for JC just LIKING him, enough to come to HIM, instead of anything or anyone else.

"Hey," JC said tentatively, nudging the door open with his knee and then closing it behind him. "It's cold in here, can I ... ?" He set the bowl down on the nightstand beside Justin, and went over to the window to close it most of the way. He wasn't quite sure why Justin wanted to meet him in there, and was going on the assumption so far that it was just to go to bed, but even though Justin wasn't wearing his glasses he didn't look tired either. Justin sat up a little, and his eyes followed JC as he went and closed the window. "No, go ahead, I'm okay now." He suspects his skin is still pretty red, but it feels cooler now and that's pretty much all he'd hoped to accomplish. "You came," he commented as JC moved a little closer to him.

JC stiffened. "What, wasn't I supposed to?" *Try not to act so fucking surprised,* he thought to himself, then casually dropped the towel around his waist and walked across the room to borrow a pair of boxers from Justin's drawer. "I brought you dessert," he said coolly. "Probably should eat it before it melts."

"I was scared you wouldn't," confessed Justin, groping for his glasses. "You brought dessert? Whe--" He halts in the middle of the question, remembering how JC had treated him over the towel thing. And for a brief, painful second, he wondered if his birthday gift had been a joke, and if JC really went around laughing at him behind his back. "Thanks," he said quietly, instead, after slipping on his glasses and finding the dessert nearby.

JC stood there for another minute, still naked, with his back to Justin -- staring at the underwear in his hands. "You asked me to," he reminded him finally. "Meeting you here, not bringing you dessert. And I said 'okay.' It was all of, maybe, ten minutes ago? I wouldn't *forget*. And I wouldn't bother to say I *was* if I *wasn't*. So just ... " He shook his head and tugged on the underwear. "Whatever. What did you want?"

"You're mad at me and you're not happy to be around me," Justin pointed out bluntly, looking at the dessert and sadly setting it back down on the bedside table. "I didn't have a lot of reason to believe you'd be anxious to come see me. I mean, I was sure you would have come sooner or later." He lay down again and sighed. "Can you just relax? We're not fighting right now, unless you want to be."

"If you're not going to eat that, hand it over," JC told him, walking over to the bed, his voice not much lighter if at all. "I'm relaxed. I'm NOT mad, although second-guessing me isn't the way I'D suggest trying to squirm your way into my heart. Or my pants, whatever." He stopped, and decided he really didn't feel like being nasty any more that evening, and squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm ... sorry. I didn't mean that. Seriously, are you going to tell me what you wanted, out in the hall?"

"I just wanted to be with you," said Justin in a small voice. "I didn't realize it had to be this big of a thing." He bit the inside of his lip to keep from showing more emotion than he meant to. "You can do what you want, JC. I ... I don't want to be forcing you into something you don't want. And I guess you can take that any way you want to."

JC sat down gingerly on the other side of the bed, then leaned over Justin to grab the sorbet before settling back against the headboard. "What part of all this is making you think I don't want to be here? God, will you just ... " He shook his head and shoved a spoonful of the dessert into his mouth. "Forget it. Looks like I'm still a complete failure at us having a dinner that will actually end on a positive note. I can go finish this in the kitchen if you want me to." It didn't matter to JC if Justin had anything in particular to say to him, he just didn't feel like being reassuring at the moment. He'd rather just go to bed.

"Well, I thought that was pretty clear, JC," said Justin crisply. "I said I asked you here because I wanted to be with you. I also said you were free to go at any time. So if you want to go, just fucking go, okay? But don't put words in my mouth. Don't make it like *I* want you to go so you can ease your fucking conscience or something. You know how I feel." He stared at the foot of the bed, refusing to turn his head to look at JC right then.

"Fuck this," JC muttered, barely restraining himself from dumping the ice cream on Justin's head. "Just fuck it, anyway. I made a choice to come back to you, to fucking *commit* to you, and you still have to second-guess me all the time. Man, I *suck* at judging people, I guess, because I never thought you'd be like that ... maybe I'm better off with the ones who don't expect anything from me."

"Maybe you are," said Justin flatly. "You think I'm fucking second guessing you? Just LISTEN to what you're saying to me. Asking me if I want you to go the moment after I tell you I want you here? You don't know WHAT the fuck you want, do you? Congratulations on your half-assed commitment JC, but next time don't fucking bother."

JC stood up abruptly. "Believe me. I'm learning my lesson." The bowl shook in his hand. "You know that works two ways, Timberlake," he said quietly as he started backing toward the door. "Saying you don't want to force me into something I don't want to do, when I came in here voluntarily. *Regretably*, but voluntarily."

"Yeah, voluntarily," repeated Justin. "So you could snipe at me some more. And I'm supposed to, what, THANK you for that?" Justin fell silent, and thought -- really THOUGHT -- about what was going on here. He'd been strong once. Strong and perfectly capable of taking care of whatever he needed. He hadn't needed anyone. He'd been in control of his life. And now he was on the verge of fucking tears because JC was, what, being NASTY to him? The way he pretty much always had? Fuck love. It wasn't worth the trouble.

"I guess not," JC said softly, looking down at the sorbet, recognizing that he was fooling himself that a small thing like making dessert would make a difference. Especially if Justin really meant that JC shouldn't have bothered trying to commit to him ... that was hard to hear, and harder to accept. He didn't *want* to have to go back to Joey, he *didn't*. "Look ... can you just ... " he didn't know what he wanted to ask, so he just looked at Justin pleadingly.

"Just WHAT, JC?" asked Justin. "What else can I DO? I'm sorry if I expect too much from you sometimes but you KNOW why I do that and can't you just ... point it out and then let it go, sometimes?" He sighed and touched JC's leg. "Sit down, would you? And just ... tell me what you want. For real. Just ... forgetting about everything *I* want and talk to me."

That was enough of a concession on Justin's part for JC to sit down gratefully, still holding the bowl awkwardly. "You just ... I can just tell you what I think about all this?" he said tentatively. "And ... you won't make me talk about the stuff I don't want to say?" He bit his lip, then ate another bite of the sorbet. "It might be easier to say what I *don't* want."

"Say ... what you need to say. What you need me to hear," said Justin after a moment, resting his hand on JC's thigh. "And I promise to try not to push, on the things you don't want to get into. Is that good enough?"

JC nodded and ate some more sorbet, then held the spoon out questioningly to Justin. "I don't ... okay. I don't want to mess this up. *Really,* Justin ... every time we fight it seems that's the one constant in my mind. Almost as much, though, I don't want you to make me feel like I already *have*. And when you say things like ... I shouldn'tve bothered trying to commit, when I don't think you really *mean* that ... it makes me even more likely to make a mistake." He paused, to see how Justin would take that.

Justin nodded slightly. "I didn't ... I mean ... what I meant when I said that was ... you shouldn't have done it if you didn't really want it. I was feeling like you didn't want it -- me -- JC. That I was just ... aggravating and inconvenient. And ... stupid and clumsy and annoying and a bunch of other stuff, too, but I think those are more MY issue than YOURS ... " He looks at JC with wideish eyes and ate the spoonful of sorbet he was offered. "Go on," he said.

JC couldn't hold back his slight smile when Justin actually accepted the food, and happily scooped up some more for him. "Okay ... I don't want you to be thinking those things, either. 'Cause ... Justin, that's *not* how I feel, and I *do* want you around. Which leads me back to the rest of this, I guess." He pulled his other leg up underneath himself, careful not to disturb the hand Justin had on his leg, and spoke quickly. "I don't want you to make me leave. I don't ... I *don't* want to think that fucking Joey is the only thing I'll ever be capable of."

"Why would you think THAT?" asked Justin, honestly baffled, taking another mouthful of the sorbet eagerly. "I've ... have I ever MADE you leave? Really? Or ... do I just sometimes make you feel like you should, or something? You KNOW I hate fighting, JC. I'd be, like, totally happy if we were cuddling and having sex and making love all the time. Seriously. Without all these arguments and misunderstandings and stuff." He paused. "But I"m interrupting. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, keep that in your mouth," JC teased as Justin wrapped his lips around the spoon again. "It's ... okay, though. That maybe was all I had to say, right now. I want to be able to show you that I want you around by cooking for you, and I want to feel like I belong next to you when we're sleeping, and I want to know that you're not all up in your head, thinking the worst, when there are sometimes things I'm not ready to talk about. I want to TRY this, Justin. Please?"

Justin nodded, and hesitated before he opened his mouth to make sure he WASN'T interrupting this time. "Yes," he said. "Of course I want that. I guess ... I've already gotten so much of what I wanted, I don't need to be pushing for other things. Things'll ... happen when they do, I guess." He brought his pinky finger to his mouth and chewed on the nail a little. "You wouldn't really consider sleeping somewhere else, would you? I mean, even when we're fighting?"

JC couldn't admit how impossible it actually *was* for him to sleep unaided by alcohol anywhere other than Justin's bed, but he couldn't lie, either. "If ... we were fighting, and I needed to sleep ... no, I don't think I could do it in here. For a lot of reasons, but mainly because it's something that really ... means something to me, with respect to *us*, and I wouldn't ever want to have bad memories associated with it." He smiled shyly. "Plus, then you wouldn't have to come find me out on the balcony, and we'd miss out on all the nice things that come after."

Justin grinned back a little. "Yeah, about that ... " he said. "How are we supposed to stash condoms out there anyway? I mean ... I can figure a way in the REST of the house, but ... " He hoped JC would latch onto that, a little, as Justin accepting that that was the way it was going to be. "There's just ... one thing," he added, hesitantly. "One thing I think I need to ask of you. And it's NOT big JC, so don't worry."

JC smiled softly and fed him another spoonful of sorbet. "I don't want you to stop asking for things. Then I'll feel like you don't care what you get from me. I just want the *pushing* to stop." He leaned over and put the mostly-empty bowl back on the nightstand. "So ask. Please. What is it that you need so much from me, baby boy?"

Justin licked his lips nervously after letting JC feed him another mouthful. "Okay ... that thing in the bathroom, with the towel? I know that was in the middle of a fight and all, but ... don't do that? You KNOW how long it took me to get over my self-consciousness about that around you guys -- especially the way Chris used to pull that stupid shit like hiding my glasses because he thought it was funny -- so I just ... I really hate the way that kind of teasing makes me feel. And I KNOW how trivial this sounds, but ... it would mean a lot to me." Justin looked at him, his cheeks flushing with embarassment all over again.

JC stared back at Justin, surprised to see him meeting his gaze while he was blushing so vigorously. He couldn't say anything for a moment; when he did, it came out as a whisper. "I'm really, really scared to have my blood drawn."

"Oh," said Justin as his brain put two and two together. "Oh! Is THAT it? Oh, JC," he said, wrapping his arms around him and holding him close. "Shit, I feel like a total moron for forgetting about that. How come you didn't just SAY?" He kissed JC's cheek as he pulled back again.

"Because," JC said softly, hanging on to Justin and not letting him pull back enough to see the flush on HIS face. He didn't know how else to apologize to Justin for doing something so insensitive, so embarrassing for him ... except to put *himself* out on a ledge, of sorts. "It's ... stupid," he said weakly. He still worried about Justin thinking that somehow JC was putting the group before him, in terms of who and what he'd make sacrifices for. "It's not *stupid*," said Justin insistently. "God ... I've seen you around needles, C. You won't do it unless it's, like, life or death. You wouldn't even get a tattoo with us and you can't even SEE the needle, then." He hugged him again, since he found himself unable to move back. "What could we do to make it easier for you?" he asked softly, his face pressed against JC's neck.

*Just don't make me,* JC wanted to say, rubbing his face against Justin's damp curls. He just shrugged, instead, and let himself be surrounded by strong, warm arms. Even though he was a *little* relieved to finally have told Justin about what was bothering him about it, another one of his suspicions was being confirmed: he couldn't just *tell* him, without Justin wanting to talk it out. "You smell good," he mumbled.

"Amazing what a shower will do for you," said Justin, kissing his neck. "We'll figure something out, okay, baby? It doesn't have to be now. I'm sorry I pushed you so hard. But ... I'm kinda glad it was that. And, you know, not ME." He kissed him again. "And your thing wasn't NEARLY as stupid as my thing," he added. "So you have nothing to be embarassed about."

"I'm not embarrassed," JC protested weakly, burrowing further into Justin's embrace. "But if we're going to compare -- at least *I* didn't have someone trying to make me feel like shit about it. I'm ... just so sorry, Justin." He paused, telling himself that he already did something to make it up to Justin, he didn't need to ask what else he could do. "So ... am I allowed to tell you about the studio, yet?"

"Yes!" said Justin enthusiastically. "I've been wanting to hear about it since you got home, JC. Seriously." He snuggled in against JC's side and got comfortable, then smiled at him brightly. Openly. "Okay, go ahead."

JC looked down at Justin's upturned face, and chuckled as he rolled backward onto the bed and pulled Justin on top of him. "I'm not telling you a *story*," he grinned. "Anyway. It was great! I think I have the melody for the verses all worked out now, and I already had the chorus down. They even let me go ahead and lay some vocals, but just, like, demo-quality ones. To show you guys." He paused, and looked up at Justin with halfway parted eyelids. "It was hard, though ... 'cause how I was feeling this morning, knowing I was back with you ... didn't really fit with how I should *sound* for the song."

Justin grinned. "Too perky?" he asked lightly. "That's just fabulous news, baby," he said, straddling him then leaning down for a kiss. "When do we get to hear it? Did you start on anything new? When do you need me back in the studio with you? What about that other new song you said you were playing with?"

JC laughed again at Justin's enthusiasm. "That WAS the new song ... I know I just started writing it, but I *told* you it was going really well." He let Justin kiss him deeply, and then stretched his arms back over his own head. "I don't know the answers to the rest of that, really. Part of me kinda wants to do this on my own, but ... " he trailed off before speaking again bashfully. "I can show you the lyrics, later, at least." He smiled again, then, and closed his eyes contendedly before reaching up to pinch Justin's nipple. "I'll give you fucking 'perky,' baby boy."

Justin gasped and chuckled. "I'd like whatever you'd like to show me," he said. "But hey, if it's private, I totally respect that, JC. Seriously." He leaned forward, hoping to feel JC's touch again. "Those aren't the ONLY things getting perky, by the way," he teased.

"Don't taunt, like that," JC admonished, squirming underneath Justin's bare legs even as he ran his palms up the top of his thighs, under the front of his boxers. "I still feel kinda gross," he mused. "I didn't really ... get too clean in the 'shower'."

"I don't mind," said Justin, touching his chest. "Unless you do."

"But *you're* clean," JC pouted. "That's not very fair."

"You could make me dirty again," offered Justin, stroking JC's stomach. "If you wanted. If you're, you know, into that kind of thing ... " He grinned at JC and winked.

JC pulled himself up and grabbed Justin around the waist in a tight bear hug. "You know I am," he mumbled into his chest. "God, this is so much better, isn't it?"

"Yes," said Justin happily, hugging him back. "See, isn't this easy?"

"Don't get all complacent," JC teased, letting his hands drift under the waistband on Justin's boxers at his hips. "I don't want to have to pretend to play hard-to-get."

"I'm not *complacent*," said Justin emphatically. "I'm just ... you know ... HAPPY. And ... kinda cuddly. Which doesn't mean I don't want you to fuck me ... or something."

JC grinned, and pulled one hand free to touch Justin's nose. "Why happy, baby boy? Why are you in such a better mood?"

Justin wrinkled his nose. "You'll laugh," he said.

"Well, then you'll know I'm happy, too," JC rationalized. He tugged on Justin's underwear. "Tell meee!"

"It's because you're smiling," admits Justin. "Okay? That ... really does it for me."

"That's sweet," JC said lightly, still grinning. "Now, c'mere and let me do dirty, subversive things to your body."

Justin laughed, not a short chuckle but a genuine laugh. "You can do anything to my body that you want. Anything. I mean that."

"You know," JC said slowly, cupping Justin's ass again and ducking his head to bite at Justin's torso, right over a rib, "I do take requests, on occasion." He was in the mood to do something fun, something they hadn't done together yet.

"Requests," said Justin, raising an eyebrow at him. "What KIND of requests, C? Did you have something in mind?"

"Not really," JC murmured, nipping a little harder. "Requests, such as what sorts of dirty and subversive things you'd like to have done to your body. By me. Any thoughts on the matter?"

"My thoughts are pretty limited to you being inside me, right now," admitted Justin sheepishly. "If you gimme a couple minutes, though, I'm sure I can be a little more creative ... "

"Okay," said JC easily, nudging Justin gently off his lap and then moving around to kneel behind him. "You," he said lowly, rolling Justin's boxers down his hips, "think for a couple minutes. And I" -- he placed a hand on Justin's back, forcing him to lean down on his hands -- "will occupy myself while I wait."

Justin's breathing quickened a bit. "Um ... okay ... " he said, both excited and wary. "I'm, um, getting some right now, actually ... "

JC licked a slow path up Justin's spine as he tugged the underwear down to his knees. "Is that right?"

"Uh huh," said Justin, tilting his ass toward JC.

JC kept one hand in the small of Justin's back and used the other to clutch at one of the globes of Justin's ass, squeezing it gently and then spreading it. "I can listen and do this at the same time," JC told him, just before tonguing all the way from Justin's balls up to the hand that JC steadied him with.

"Yes," said Justin shakily. "But can I talk and ... have you do this ... at the same time?" He bit his lip and closed his eyes.

JC chuckled and lapped at him again, before sinking his teeth into the flesh just above his thumb. "I think that's what I was trying to say ... "

"Just ... okay, yeah ... do THAT," moaned Justin, arching toward him again.

JC kissed the spot he had just bitten, and then traced around Justin's hole with the very tip of his tongue. "I think you need to articulate better," he murmured.

"Use ... your tongue ... in me .... " he gasped. "Oh God, you're teasing me ... "

Bracing Justin a little more firmly, JC did as he was told ... dipping his tongue as far inside Justin's ass as he could reach, and curling it slightly.

"Oh GOD," shouted Justin, pushing back against him, shivers going up his spine. "Oh god, please, doitagain ... "

JC tightened his grip on Justin's ass, sliding his hands wider and digging his nails into his skin. He thrust his tongue in again, leaving it longer this time, flicking it slowly.

Justin sucked in a desperate breath, unable to speak this time, unable to TELL JC that he thinks he could probably come, just from this, if he kept it up.

JC pulled his hand off Justin's ass just long enough to knock his arms out from under him, forcing his face and chest into the bed while JC's other hand kept his hips tilted in the air. He let out a low moan of his own, mouth still at Justin's entrance, and sucked a little at Justin's rim when he pulled out.

"Don't ... stop ... " whispered Justin when he could, sobbing a little when it felt like JC was pulling away. He gasped for breath and prayed for him to come back.

Flushing at the need in Justin's voice, JC kept lapping at his hole, developing a slow rhythm. He hadn't meant to get Justin off on this, but he did NOT mind ... and as he dug his fingers a little more roughly into Justin's flesh, he wondered why he hadn't.

Justin moaned helplessly, not even trying to stifle it, feeling as hard as he ever remembered being. "Oh, JC ... " he said as he tried to get even closer.

JC wondered idly if he was stimulating Justin enough, or if he'd need to use his fingers ... or even reach around and try to jerk him off blindly. He let one hand trail down Justin's leg as he flexed his tongue and started thrusting it in earnest, deep and worshipfully.

"Oh fuck," murmured Justin, using most of his energy just to breath. "You're gonna ... get me off ... like that ... " He bit into the fabric of the sheets and tried to stifle another long, loud moan.

JC would have smiled if he could, figuring that answered THAT question, even though his jaw was starting to ache even more than when he gave someone head. He curled his tongue again, and kept sliding it in and out, eager to feel Justin's ass contract around it.

Justin quivered with every thrust of JC's dextrous, wet tongue. "Oh God," he muttered as he felt his orgasm begin to build. And JC hadn't even fucking had to TOUCH him.

JC reached up and pressed his hand harder between Justin's shoulderblades as he felt his body tense, holding him against the bed and trying to use all the leverage he could to go as deep inside as he wanted to.

Justin shouted as he came, the sound echoing off the walls of the bedroom. He blushed as he heard himself, heard that absolute abandon, but he couldn't bring himself to care beyind that as the orgasm consumed him.

JC's eyes squeezed shut as Justin's muscles tightened around him, a rapid fluttering that made him hornier. He slid his tongue out slowly, licking up Justin's crack, before planting a kiss on the small of his back just like the one he had delivered at the beginning.

Justin shuddered and sucked in harsh breath after harsh breath as he tried to get control of himself back.

"Hey, hey," JC murmured, sliding his hands off Justin's hips and lowering his body the rest of the way to the bed. "Shhh. You're okay. You okay, angel?"

Justin tried to nod. "I ... yeah," he said softly. "I think so."

JC bit his lip, and pulled the underwear still gathered at Justin's knees back up over his hips gently. "Hey," he said again. "What. What's wrong, doll?" He had no idea that he kept using those endearments; they just came automatically as he grew more concerned about the man under him in the bed.

Justin smiled at him. It's a little weak, but genuine. "I just .... I totally lost myself, C. That's a little ... scary ... is all. But the GOOD kind of scary."

JC smiled fondly and collapsed next to him on the bed. "You're so funny. It's ... totally hot to do all this with you, for the first time."

Justin chuckled self-consciously. "It's not *funny*," he protested with a grin.

"No, no," JC backtracked. "You're funny, when you say stuff like that's *scary*. The fact that it's your first time, THAT's not funny, that's ... hot." JC drifts off for a moment. "Did I say that already?"

Justin grinned a little. "Yeah. You said that. And .... yeah. It was. Fuck, that was unbelievable, JC. "

"You liked?" JC mumbled, burying his face in Justin's back, letting his fingers trail up and down his ribs.

"I think 'liked' is somewhat inadequate," confessed Justin, still grinning like a fool. "Wow."

JC chuckled at Justin again, falling silent and letting him come down. He was still horny, but he also still felt badly enough about how their sex had ended earlier that he didn't want to disrupt Justin in any way.

"I never imagined THAT could happen," admitted Justin softly, rolling over onto his side.

"What, baby boy?" JC asked, trying to keep any concern from his face, knowing he should listen to Justin saying that he liked it and not get too antsy.

"I came so fast!" he said in amazement. "So HARD. And ... and ... and it was just your TONGUE."

JC practically cackled. "Oh!" he laughed. "JUST my tongue. It'll try not to be too insulted." He laughed again, and squeezed Justin tightly. "You're too fucking precious for words; stop."

"What?" laughed Justin. "What did I say? It WAS fucking amazing, okay?"

"Okay," JC chuckled, sighing as the laughter trailed off. "Hmm. DO you think I need to go put that bowl in the kitchen?" he wondered aloud.

"What? Leave? No!" Justin reached out and grabbed him. "You ... wow ... don't go."

"What?" JC laughed again, looking down at Justin's hand on him, wondering what prompted the random exclamation. "Okay, relax. If we wake up with bugs everywhere, it's your problem."

"Who's sleeping?" asked Justin, playful now. "I'M not sleeping. I can't sleep when I'm still .... orgasmy."

JC arched an eyebrow. "Good word. Look, I'll only be a second," he protested. "It'll give you time to recover. Reset. What's that word, like what your heartbeat does? That 're-' word."

"Re-something," said Justin, flopping over onto his back. "Okay. Go quick."

"Are you mad?" JC asked quickly, sitting up. "I'm really ... it'll just drive me NUTS ... "

"Mad? Huh? No," said Justin easily. "I'm too orgasmy to get mad. Now go! Shoo! So you can be back quicker!"

JC shooed, thankful he still had his underwear on even though he had to tuck himself back in, grabbing the bowl as he dashed out of the room.

Justin squirmed a little on the bed, still feeling JC's tongue on him ... in him ... JC had teased him with his tongue before, but had never really done THAT. And it WAS amazing and he didn't think it was something you did for just anyone, which made him feel kinda good. He rolled over onto his stomach again and pressed his flushed cheek to the blanket, closing his eyes.

Justin looked like he was asleep to JC, when he re-entered the room, and his heart sank a little. He closed the door softly and approached the bed, then knelt on it and touched Justin's calf lightly with his fingertips. It wasn't like he *needed* to get off, too -- he couldn't be greedy, not after the kitchen table -- but it might have been nice.

"How come you're sneaking around?" asked Justin, reaching over to tug JC back onto the bed. "Unless you brought me another surprise?" He leaned up on his elbow and looked at JC hopefully.

Startled a little, it took JC a second to smile. "Like what?" he asked warily. "And since when did you get to be so spoiled, anyway?" He pulled his other leg up on to the bed, and sat down indian-style, right next to Justin's hip.

Justin shrugged. "Whipped cream?" he suggested slyly, stroking JC's stomach lightly. "Something kinkier?" He grinned and sat himself up a little so he could give JC a quick kiss. "You spoil me sometimes. And I spoil you back. And I don't see a problem with that."

That put an unabashed smile on JC's face. "I wasn't necessarily complaining," he stretched. "You think you spoil me? Don't make me ask you what you've done for me lately ... " He nudged Justin with his knee, obviously teasing. "You're gonna be waiting a long time for the whipped cream, I'm afraid. I told you I hate that shit."

Justin sighed. "Okay. No whipped cream. How about Jell-O? And I think you KNOW what i've done for you lately," he teased, tugging on JC's boxers. "Come CLOSER already, I want to be able to touch you, C. You're ... warm, and nice." He ran his hand over JC's chest, still feeling almost high from what JC had done for him.

"I'm right HERE," JC told him in mock exasperation, but let himself be pulled over to lay across Justin's body. "Jell-O has potential." He closed his eyes, letting Justin caress him. "Just? Can you tell me what you *were* going to ask me to do to you, before?"

"When? Like ... just now?" Justin blushed. "I just wanted you inside me ... somehow," he said. "I just really needed to feel that. If ... if you're wondering if I was gonna push, about ... well, you know ... I wasn't. I wouldn't have complained about a condom. I'm even gonna go out and get more later, okay?" He bites his lips a little. "I might've asked you to use your fingers ... or something. If you hadn't blindsided me with that wonderful, wonderful tongue thing."

JC smiled again. "Blindsided? You had to have some idea that was coming." He sighed. "I wasn't worried about you pushing me, except ... well, sometimes you *are* pushing me, even when you don't realize it. Like ... being *so* needy for it? More cajoling than complaining, if that makes sense, is even harder to resist." He rolled back onto his back. "Can I come with you? When you go get them?"

"Of COURSE you can come with me," said Justin with a grin. "We'll absolutely scandalize the clerks. Management will shit. Did you want to get them in all kinds of different colors and shit? I mean ... I never got creative with the ones I got for myself ... they were just, you know, *functional*. But if we HAVE to use the things, they may as well be fun, right?" Justin avoided responding outright to JC's assertion that he DID push him, even when he wasn't trying. Because he knew that, really. And he hoped that the whole getting-the-condoms thing would put his mind at ease, a little.

JC giggled, and stretched again. "They're just *condoms*," he told Justin. "I was thinking Eckerd. But if colors will make you happy, colors it is. I just ... wanted to go with you. And then ... then, maybe, you can come with *me*, and help me get groceries for the next time I cook for you?" He was determined for them to get through a night together without fighting.

"Well, if they're going to be part of us making love," said Justin, turning a little and sprawling over JC, "then they're not 'just' anything." Justin felt a bit silly now, but he went on anyway. "So ... instead of just being an inconvenience ... they would be ... " He shrugged and just smiled. "What are you making me for dinner, next time? And if I put whipped cream in the cart, will you just take it right back out again?"

JC laughed out loud at that, even as he felt a little giddy, and goofy, for thinking that Justin wanting to get 'fun' condoms was the most precious thing he'd heard, ever. "Yes. There will be no whipped cream coming within three feet of my body, I can promise that. You'll have to come up with something -- or someBODY -- else." He slapped Justin on the butt. "And what do you WANT me to make? I get the feeling I haven't hit on something you really like, yet."

"If I have to get creative about what I'm going to eat off your body," said Justin mischievously, "are you SURE you want to let me go to the store with you?" He kissed him softly, his eyes still shining happily. "I don't know what I want you to make. I'll eat ANYthing, JC, you know that. I'm not even sure I HAVE a favorite, anymore. Surprise me."

"Well, as long as you aren't recommending test runs in the middle of the aisle, I think I'm pretty safe," JC assured him. "Okay, I'll start thinking about something else to make you, and we'll do it again ... sometime soon." He yawned and returned the kiss. "Does it always come with post-meal sex on on the eating surface? 'Cause that's quite a motivation."

"I think we're going to have to find a piece of furniture in this place that we HAVEN'T had sex on and do that," said Justin, though the memory of sex on the kitchen table flooded back to him and made him warm. "Pool table?" he suggests with a grin. "Don't worry, though, I think post-meal sex will be part of the package for a very long time to come, if I have any say in it."

"Good ... except I feel so fat after eating like that," JC said casually, offhandedly. "I can't believe you wanted to touch me. Maybe we'll do, like, something lighter next time." He laughed, and rubbed Justin's knee. "But the pool table ... yeah."

Justin rolled off JC's body and to his side. "Oh," he said. "I'd better get off before I crush you then," he said, his smile fading quickly. "Seeing as how I ate twice as much as you and all." He did reach out and touch JC's body though, as though proving it was something he wanted to do, even when JC thought he didn't -- joking or not.

"That's not ... hey," JC frowned, catching Justin's hand and trying to tug him back up on top of him. "Justin. You were *supposed* to eat it. I would've gotten all depressed if you hadn't. I was just talking about ME." He bit his lip. "Don't make me make you another album, this one cataloging the virtues of your perfect body. You only get one of those a year." Tilting his head back, he tried a tentative, sheepish smile. "C'mon. That comment had nothing to do with you."

"Do *I* need to make the album this time, then?" asked Justin, his eyes locked on JC's. "Cause that was one of those scary kinda comments that Lance makes right before he stops eating for a while again. And you're almost too skinny as it is, C." He didn't get back on top of him, but he did stroke the skin of JC's stomach and thighs deliberately and thoroughly.

The smile disappeared as gingerly as it had been attempted, and JC tried to pull his legs back from Justin's fingers. "Stop," he mumbled, blinking. "I can't help being skinny, and I can't help if sometimes I don't have an appetite. You don't have to *make* yourself touch me, like that." He sighed and stopped trying to pull Justin up next to him. "No wonder."

"You're being ridiculous," said Justin. "I'm not MAKING myself do anything. And your comment before had NOTHING to do with appetite and EVERYTHING to do with feeling fat. If you're not hungry, just SAY that. Don't be all weird about it, okay? I worry about you." He stroked JC's stomach again, smiling as his fingers ran over the soft -- and hard -- flesh. "So ... ," he asked reluctantly, "what did the 'no wonder' mean?"

"Oh," JC said softly, embarrassed. "Nothing. I just thought ... I mean, you don't seem too interested in ... *doing* ... anything else with me, and ... I don't know. Wondered if that was the reason." He blushed and scratched at his leg. "And for the record, I don't think I look fat. I'm not a fucking girl. I just ... sometimes *feel* gross, when I eat a lot. Okay?"

"Okay," said Justin. "That's fine, JC, you were just worrying me. After Lance ... I'm a little sensitive to that stuff. I mean, aren't you?" He pulled JC closer again. "And who said I'm not interested in doing anything else with you? Haven't you ever heard of recovery time? Besides the fact that you fucking blew my mind when you, like, tongue-fucked me ... " He took JC's hand and gently placed it on his growing erection. "I think maybe I'm ready again now, though ... what are you up for, hon?"

JC shrugged, still not feeling comfortable enough with Justin calling him 'skinny' to really react to the fact that he was touching him so intimately, OR that Justin was obviously being aroused by *something*. "Nothing, I dunno," he mumbled. "You don't like the way I look, I don't like the way I feel ... maybe now isn't the best time to try and top anything 'mind-blowing,' huh? It's okay."

"I like the way you look," said Justin quietly. "I'm *turned on* by the way you look. And if you think about it, you know that, JC."

"Then don't call me skinny," JC complained. "That's just as bad as calling me fat." He looked down at himself, at the slight bruises on his hipbones, just above his boxers, where Justin had gripped him so hard earlier. He pulled his hand away from Justin. "Okay?"

"JC, I didn't!" protested Justin. "You know I didn't mean it like that. But you were talking like you were gonna ... do something bad ... and I didn't want that to happen. You ARE thin, though ... and you look perfectly good that way. It's just right, for you." He leans down and kisses JC's side. "And you KNOW i like it, silly. Just like I ... like I should know you like me, even when you say things wrong."

JC smiled despite himself at the gentle way Justin pressed his lips to his skin. "What. When do *I* ever say anything wrong?" He arched his back a little. "And I'm not like Lance. At all. I'm not going to DO anything. You can ... worry about me. About some things. But just ... not that."

"I DO worry about you," said Justin, smiling at him fondly. "I don't think that's gonna change. But I'm glad I don't have to add THAT to the list. So ... are you SURE you don't want to do anything? I mean, I can just ... maybe hold you ... if you think that would be nice."

"That *would* be nice," JC hedged. "But ... I mean, I never REALLY said I didn't want to do anything. I just ... felt really NOT-sexual, there, for a minute."

"Well," said Justin, "how about we START with that ... and if our hands HAPPEN to touch other things, we can see what happens." He smiled innocently. "Cause they might, you know."

JC nodded, but didn't move any closer to Justin. "That would be nice," he repeated distractedly, fidgeting with his underwear. He *still* was a little unsure of whether Justin's comment meant anything more than he swore it did, and felt a little awkward climbing into his arms again.

Justin confidently pulled him into his arms. "I love you, fool," he said, kissing his neck. "Stop being so far away from me, okay?"

"Okay," JC agreed, pressing their torsos together tentatively. "Wait ... really? You do, still?" He ducked his head, and rubbed his fingers through the wet spot on the sheets.

"I do what, still?" asked Justin in confusion.

"LOVE me," JC said, barely audibly. "Even after ... everything that happened today, everything I said?"

"Well, yeah," said Justin in surprise. "Of course I do. JC ... that doesn't just STOP, because we fight." He touched JC face gently. "Didn't we cover this?"

"Yeah," JC said. "But ... I can't ... get what you said out of my head. About how you DON'T ... I just CAN'T." He bit his lip and looked down at their bodies. "Maybe we really shouldn't do anything."

"Maybe we should stick to me holding you for a while then," said Justin, sighing. "While I try to make up for something really STUPID that I only said to make you hurt as much as I was hurting."

JC watched Justin's face as he moved closer in his arms, nudging Justin to hold him tighter. "You don't have to do that. I don't even remember what I said to make you that mad, but I guess I deserved it."

"No one deserves that," admitted Justin. "That was ... well, about the most awful thing I could have said. And I'm really sorry, JC. I DIDN'T mean it. Not even a little bit."

"The thing that really sucked?" JC went on, trying to get comfortable in Justin's lap, "was that it would be okay, if you stopped saying you loved me. Especially 'cause, y'know, I can't say it yet. Haven't said it yet. Like that." He paused. "But to tell me you DON'T? When even if you don't in THAT way? That really scared me, that if somehow I mess this up bad, I'll lose the relationship I had with you BEFORE. Where we loved each other the same."

Justin sighed. "I don't know what to tell you to make that better," he admitted unhappily, holding JC close. "Do you wish I didn't love you ... like that?"

"No," JC said quickly. "I just ... does it bother you to SAY it, to me, when you know I won't say it back? I mean, I understand you wanting me to know. But now that I KNOW ...?" JC rested his head on Justin's shoulder, and began to pet his back slowly.

"I liike saying it," said Justin softly. "I like telling you how I feel. It's ... okay that you don't say it back. That you don't feel it. I don't expect you to." Justin closed his eyes, then decided to take his glasses off and set them aside, trusting JC to take care of him. "I can stop ... if it makes you uncomfortable. At least ... I can try. If you ask."

That felt like a change from how they were, before, JC mused. Less pressure, somehow. "No," he said again, just as soft as Justin. "I just didn't want you to feel like just because you said it once, you had to keep saying it. I'll believe you, if you tell me to." He mouthed the warm skin of Justin's collarbone gently.

"You smile, when I say it, sometimes," added Justin, his eyes still closed. "I figured ... maybe you liked hearing it."

JC just couldn't admit how much that was true. "Mmm," he said, instead, suddenly not wanting to talk about that any more. "You do a lot of things that can make me smile, Just."

Justin stroked JC's stomach with his fingertips. "Yeah?" he said. "Name some."

JC smirked and lapped at Justin's skin some more. "Having you pant my name when I get you off," he said bluntly. "Um. For one."

Justin grinned. "That's a good start," he said. "Tell me more ... "

"You want the X-rated list?" JC mumbled, scratching his nails down Justin's back. "I'm not sure I wanna play that game. I need to be kissed, good and well."

"Aw, and here I thought you were going to talk dirty to me," teased Justin, then kissed him ... just as requested. It felt good just to be holding him, touching him, and not worrying about anything.

"Having you take me on top of a table, your dick making me feel like I was gonna explode ... THAT made me smile," JC said huskily, then continued in a normal speaking voice. "Nope ... I'm just not FEELING the dirty-talk vibe. Especially when you're just listening."

"The table," mumbled Justin. "Yeah ... wow ... that was intense." He kissed him thoroughly again. "So what *do* you feel like?"

"The table, Round 2?" JC teased, then slid off of Justin's body. "No, I'm kidding. I don't know. What are YOU up for?"

Justin shrugged and grinned. "Just about anything, if you're there. Seriously, you just, like, made a fantasy come true for me. Better than. Do you KNOW how hard I came?! So ... what can I do for YOU?"

JC flushed with pride. "Wow. Okay. Making me come hard, that's probably something to shoot for." JC was torn: he felt like he almost deserved to actually ask for something, here ... but at the same time, felt awkward asking for anything specific that Justin hadn't offered. Not that he had any ideas at the moment, anyway.

Justin licked his lips and ran his hands down JC's body again. "Any suggestions?" he said, pressing his face to JC's neck and kissing it wetly.

JC arched up a little into Justin's hands. "Mmm," he said again, and then took a deep breath and just asked for it. "Still got your toys, around?"

Justin grinned. "Of course," he said. "Why ... ? I mean, exactly .. "

"Think about it," JC growled, tugging him down on top of himself -- surprised at Justin's lack of surprise, pleased that he seemed receptive to something that JC wasn't even sure he was asking for.

"Oh, I AM," said Justin. "There are just ... a lot of possibilities, in what you just asked." He nibbled at JC's lower lip. "And I have a LOT of toys, so ... "

JC swallowed, feeling for the first time that he was maybe in a little over his head with Justin. "Is that right?" he said haltingly. "You seem very ... nonplussed by the request?" Justin opened his eyes, stayed close so he could look at him. "Do you want to know what I'm thinking, right now?"

"Uh-huh," JC gulped, a little captivated by Justin's eyes, recognizing the tone of the man who had completely *owned* JC in the kitchen only a few hours earlier.

"I"m thinking," siad Justin, "that my toys ... that was something that was mine. That was a part of me, alone. Something that you might have even looked down on once. And now ... whatever you meant by that question ... it's something that you want to SHARE. And that's just totally amazing and totally hot, to me. So tell me what you want, baby, and it's yours."

"Oh," JC breathed, his pulse quickening when he realized that he must've done something right after all, when really he had just been a little curious. "OH. Um. So ... you wanna show me how?"

"How to ... ?" Justin stares at him intensely. "What do you want, exactly, JC? Are you saying you want it ... in you? Or ... something else?"

So JC was more than a little flustered, and not entirely sure what 'something else' might be. "I want ... I want you to show me how ... how you fuck yourself. I want you to show ME how to do it." He bit his lip, and hoped Justin wouldn't ask why, because he didn't know, himself. "Please."

"Okay," whispered Justin. "I'll ... okay." He bit his lip, then smiled. "I'm not much of a teacher. I'll probably have to do a demonstration."

"No, no!" JC murmured, chuckling a little, and feeling selfish all of a sudden. "You already gave me quite the thorough demonstration, thank you. Besides, haven't you ever heard of learning by doing?" He pulled his knees up a little and let his legs fall open.

Justin chuckled. "I was just teasing," he said, sounding a bit young and nervous again. He felt, rather than saw, JC's legs spreading. "Oh god. Wow. Hand me my glasses, JC. Can you reach?"

JC groaned and groped behind himself for the frames, handing them to Justin before digging his shoulders deeper into the mattress and resting one leg up in Justin's lap. "I guess my underwear should be off, huh."

Justin slipped his glasses on and nodded. "JC ... I'm gonna make this SO good for you ... I swear ... " He touched the insides of JC's thighs lightly.

JC felt himself twitch, and picked his chin up sheepishly as he tried to tug on his boxers. "Will you laugh if I tell you I'm a little nervous?" he asked. "And ... you're not going to use anything HUGE, are you?"

"God, of course not!" said Justin quickly. "It's your first time, C."

JC laughed as he managed to get his underwear down to his knees, not being able to help wrapping his fingers around his own cock lightly. "There's irony in there, somewhere. I'm just ... too preoccupied to look for it."

Justin gently pulled JC's underwear off and dropped it on the floor, now kneeling beside him. "You don't need to be nervous," he said with a happy grin. "I'm .... thank you, JC."

Taking a deep breath, JC closed his eyes. "For?" he asked, reaching blindly for Justin's knee as he gently kneaded himself.

Justin carefully took JC's hand off his cock, kissed the tip tenderly, and looked up at him. "For being willing to try. For sharing. I don't think you know ... how special it is." He shook his head and blushed. "That sounded dumb. But it is." He opened the drawer in the bedside table, took out the lubricant and set it beside himself. "So I wanted to say thanks."

JC opened his eyes when Justin grabbed his hand, and watched him closely. "It's not like *I'm* the one doing YOU the favor, baby boy," he said softly. "But if you say it's special, then it's special. What ... what should I do?"

"Just relax," said Justin softly. "And believe me when I tell you I know *exactly* what I'm doing." He leaned forward and kissed JC's lips, hard. "You've really never tried this before?"

JC opened his mouth, letting his tongue curl against Justin's. "No," he said slowly. "I've never ... no." He was serious, when he told Justin before that it had been forever since he masturbated ... he really never had the urge to, and when he did, it was a quick and dirty handjob, no frills.

Justin smiled. "I'll be good, JC. This is just ... " Justin looked embarassed. "Do you want to pick? What you want to use? God this is embarassing ... I have, like a selection." He coughed politely and blushed so deeply his face was red.

JC flushed too, sitting up a little and trying to see past Justin into the drawer befor collapsing back on the bed. "No," he mumbled. "Can you ... I mean, is it okay to use the one that you let me use on you? Would that be alright?"

Justin nodded. "I could," he said. "It's just ... maybe a little bit? I mean ... for your first time. But I guess you're experienced enough ... " He smiled again. "And I'd like to think I'm not exactly small, either ... "

JC snorted and arched his shoulders again. "Yes. I think that both of those things should lead you to realize you don't have to worry. Me either, I guess." He licked his lips and let his hand drift to his crotch again.

"I just don't want you to ... not want to do it again," he admitted, tracing the insides of JC's thighs with his fingertips and making sure he wasn't touching himself. "Relax, baby, I'm gonna make it SO good for you ... "

JC laughed and laid his other hand on his stomach. "Why don't we just cross that bridge ... ?" His thumb is rubbing just along the edge of the patch of hair that starts just below his belly, and his other fingers lightly brush over the head of his cock. "And ... you said that, already. I KNOW you will, Justin."

"I just wanted to say it again," said Justin calmly. "You're shaking just a little bit, C ... I want to make sure you're comfortable. You wanna hand me one of those pillows?" He reached out his hand to take it, at the same time stroking the skin of JC's stomach again and effectively keeping him from touching himself. That was Justin's job, now.

JC was surprised to realize he *was* shaking, but he didn't think it was from nerves. More ... trembling with anticipation. Part of him was really glad he had already gotten fucked earlier that night ... both as preparation, and so he could really make this last. "Here," he said softly, watching Justin with big eyes. "I trust you." He tried to let one of his hands close around the base of his erection.

Justin gently lifted JC up, set the pillow under his hips to prop him up slightly. "Just let your legs fall open for now, baby. I KNOW you aren't shy." Justin grinned at him, kissed the inside of his knee, reached up to take JC's hand away from his cock again. "I'll let you," he said, gesturing at the hand, "but not yet." He reached for the lubricant and smeared some on his fingertips.

JC wasn't shy, but he still felt very much on display, like this, spreading his knees. "Justin?" he asked softly, trying to get comfortable on the pillow while keeping his hands clenched at his sides. "Could you maybe ... do you mind taking your boxers off, too?"

Justin stripped them off easily for him. "Sure," he said, only afterwards. "God ... do you know how beautiful you are?" he asked, leaning down to kiss JC's stomach as he reached between JC's cheeks and began lubricating his hole. "How much of this do YOU want to do?" he asked. "Or do you want me to ... take care of you?"

Blushing at the compliment, JC opened his legs a little wider and stared at Justin's stiff cock. "Hmm," he mumbled. "Maybe ... maybe you can just take care of me some *other* way." Justin looked so confident, and so ready, that it was hard for JC to accept that *that* wasn't what he was going to be feeling inside himself. He tilted his hips up by instinct when he felt Justin's probing fingers, and his lips parted a bit.

"I can," said Justin slowly. "If you, um, don't want to try something else. It's okay if you don't want to, JC. I'll understand." He slipped the tip of one finger inside, but only briefly, concentrating more on on caressing JC's stomach and waiting for him to answer. Waiting for him to choose. He'd be a bit disappointed now, if JC didn't want to go through with it, but he promised himself he wouldn't get upset.

JC shivered a little at the slight penetration, and gasped. He really just wanted to feel *something*, and Justin looked really good. But he *did* want to try this at some point, and Justin seemed so eager to show him *something*, that he couldn't really change his mind. "No," he breathed. "I want to. Can you just ... help me, to start? And maybe ... we can just see. Where it goes. Um. Not literally." He smiled and, once again, tried to relieve some of the pressure in his cock by brushing against it with his fingers.

Justin smiled happily. "No problem," he said. He watched JC closely for a moment, decided he needed to take control of the situation, now that JC had committed to it. He trapped JC's roaming hand with his own, lacing their fingers, and toyed with his hole again. His finger slid in easily; JC was still more than half ready from being fucked on the kitchen table earlier. He added a second finger before he really began to thrust, stretching him, exciting him. "You ever used your fingers in yourself?" he asked with one particularly enthusiastic thrust.

"No," JC whimpered, squirming up to meet Justin's hand, not entirely sure he'd have the self-control or wherewithal to do it *this* time, either. "Too much ... hassle ... " Nevertheless, he can visualize almost perfectly how Justin had looked when he did it, how HOT, and wondered if it would turn Justin on to see JC fucking himself on his own fingers. He clutched at Justin's hand, panting, and freed his other hand from the sheets before bringing it up to his chest.

"Want to try?" asked Justin. He slipped his fingers out and reached up to take JC's now-free hand, pulling it down. "It's really good ... being able to touch yourself in ways you maybe wish other people would ... being able to find your own prostate ... being able to get yourself off, hard ... " He grabbed the lubricant again, smeared some on JC's fingers before JC even answered one way or the other. "I'll help ... " he offered.

JC moaned at the loss of Justin's fingers, and would have agreed to pretty much anything right then if it meant he'd have *something* back inside him, quickly. "Okay," he agreed, rubbing his fingers together to spread out the lubricant, dropping his leg out wider to give himself better access. "How do I even DO this?" he mumbled frustratedly, gripping Justin's fingers and entwining them together, even as he idly scoffed that he'd ever want to do this to himself when he had Justin there to do it instead. "Can you ... ?"

"Just relax," Justin repeated again, softly. "You're tensing up, JC ... and not in the good way." He released JC's other hand, began lightly stroking his stomach and thighs again. "Keep your legs spread and your hips up, baby. It's not so hard." He brought JC's index finger down with his, used both to trace around the rim of his hole, smearing even more lubricant on it. "Feel nice?"

Sucking in a breath, JC latched on to Justin's fingers more tightly when he felt the heat and tight skin of his OWN opening. Something he'd felt on others, but never himself -- and so he never felt the shivers in his own body when he teased at that muscle with his fingertips. "Oh," he exhaled lightly. "Oh. Justin." He tried to penetrate himself gently, wanting to feel more, but still keeping his other fingers wrapped around Justin's hand.

"We'll do it together," whispered Justin, unworried since JC had already been loosened and stretched. He slid both their fingers into JC's body smoothly. "Just like that." He paused there, and waited for JC's trembling to pass.

JC's hips bucked, almost of their own accord, at the intrusion. It was a surreal sensation, to be inside something with his hand and then realize that something was *himself*. And his finger, pressed tightly against the foreign object that was *Justin's* finger, felt warm and comfortable. His hand and wrist were twisted a little awkwardly, but not enough to be distracting, yet. He dug his fingernails into the palm of Justin's other hand, and waited for him to show him where to go from there.

Justin began stroking in and out of him, JC's finger following his motion. He wondered briefly what this would feel like, with both of them inside him ... but mostly he just watched. A few moments later he slipped his own finger out and clutched JC's other hand tightly. He felt a heat building inside him as he watched JC stroke in and out of himself, watched him enjoy and appreciate his OWN body.

JC grunted in protest when Justin removed his finger, but after it became apparent that Justin wasn't going to touch him again, he took a deep breath and slid another of his own fingers inside himself. One of his legs started slipping off the bed, and he barely noticed ... concentrating too hard on moving deeper, or twisting a certain way ... but as much as his fingers were moving around, he hadn't yet stimulated his prostate. "Justin," he whimpered, eyes opening in worry, until he curled his fingers almost accidently and FELT it.

Justin heard his name, then the gasp that escaped JC's lips a moment later. His gaze shot up to catch the awed expression on JC's face and knew EXACTLY what was going on. It wasn't anything that JC hadn't felt before, he knew THAT for a fact, but then it WAS different, in a way, because he'd accomplished it on his own. He wondered if JC was maybe just beginning to get what might have been satisfying about this for Justin, before they'd hooked up. He cupped JC's knees in his hands again, and continued to watch, knowing that they were going to try something new again soon.

JC's movements were awkward, once he started pumping his fingers again, and he couldn't quite hit that spot with every thrust ... but the fact that he still wasn't quite sure when he'd do it or not made the whole experience almost like having someone else tease him. He took advantage of his free hand and gripped his cock again, just holding its weight in his hand, wanting that more familiar stimulus too. "I want more," he whispered, almost to himself. Meanwhile, Justin's hands were warm on his legs, and soon enough he opened his eyes to try and see how all of this was affecting *him*.

Justin chewed on his lip as he watched, his eyes wide. JC's words took a few moments to register, then he blinked a couple times and said, "Okay." He squeezed JC's knees, then leaned toward the drawer again and pulled the dildo out, along with a condom. Once again, he gently pulled JC's hand away from his cock. "Just a little longer," he said. "Then I'll let you."

JC's hand stayed suspended in the air for a moment, then he reached back and slid it beneath his head, arching his back as he did. Protesting was pointless, even if he had wanted to push it ... given that Justin knew what he was doing better than JC did. He groaned and had to shut his eyes when his fingertips raked against his prostate again, making him blurt out: "What do you think?"

"Of?" said Justin, his finger joining JC's inside his body again. He shivered and moaned at little. "Christ, JC, you are SO fucking hot," he said as he thrust. "I could almost come just from watching you do yourself ... "

"Mmm," JC smiled, tilting his head back again. "Be my guest." He coaxed Justin's finger deeper, and then started thrusting his own in opposition to it. "Ohh," he shuddered, letting his leg fall all the way off the side of the bed. "I just ... ah, fuck ... wanted to know if ... it's what you wanted to see. Fuck, it's good ... "

"Let me know when you want more," said Justin, his voice catching, his breathing rapid. He was SO hard right now it was almost painful. "And you'll get it." "Oh, please," JC pleaded, eyes closed. "I did. I DO." He tried to spread his legs as wide as they'd go. "God, I'm fucking *aching* for it ... why are you making us wait ... ?" He didn't let himself think about how shameless he was being, how slutty. He could admit that Justin did that to him.

Justin grinned at the 'us', felt his heart jump a little. "Okay, baby," he said, slipping his finger out again and letting JC pleasure himself while he got the dildo ready, rolling the condom on it and coating it generously with lubricant. "This is gonna be bigger than you're used to, a little. And ... different. So just relax, baby, and let me take care of you."

"Baby," JC echoed distractedly, slowing his thrusts down a little. He had been fucked enough to know how to make himself relax, and he figured he was plenty stretched to be able to take the dildo. Joking aside, Justin *wasn't* small, and Joey was bigger still ... and he'd had to allow him in with much less preparation than this. Nevertheless, he flinched slightly when he felt Justin move back between his legs, and scooted a little back on the pillow.

Justin stared at the way JC's legs fell open so easily, so wide, and smiled again. Felt wanted. Carefully, slowly, he placed the dildo at JC's entrance and slid it in a little. He paused then, waited for JC to say or do something. If JC had never done this before, had never had anything in his ass besdies a dick, he really DIDN"T know what to expect.

JC's fingers hovered over his groin after he pulled them out, before eventually falling away completely. His mouth opened into the shape of an 'O', but no sound came out. It was so *hard*, but ... he could tell a difference, missed the warmth of having the head of someone's dick tease inside him like that instead. But he couldn't help bucking into the dildo anyway, bringing his other hand to grasp Justin's wrist.

Justin pushed it in a little further, but still not as far as it could go. "You still okay?" he confirmed, stroking JC's inner thigh again, having noted how that seemed to relax him quickly. In the ways it needed to, anyway.

"Mmm-hmm," JC sniffed a little, then sighed. "Thanks." He started stroking his own belly unconsciously, and pushed Justin's wrist in farther. "S'good." It *was* good, but ... not the same.

Justin slid it in the rest of the way, and only paused a moment before beginning to gently thrust with it. With this, in his hand, he KNEW what he was doing, knew all the right places to hit. Had confidence in it in a way that he definitely DIDN"T have, yet, when he was doing this with his dick.

"Oh," JC grunted, his body giving way to each thrust of Justin's strong arm. Each *careful* thrust. Each *skilled* thrust. He moaned again, wrapping his hand around Justin's, but not interfering with his rhythm or pace. He tried as hard as he could to focus on how good it DID feel, rather than on what it was missing.

Justin squeezed JC's hand, part of him just over-the-top with excitement over doing this for JC, the other prefectly calm, confident in what he was doing, and the fact that he was in control. "Good?" he asked, thinking the question unnecessary, though.

JC's voice was still soft. "Oh, yeah," he breathed, letting his fingers drift up Justin's forearm. Suddenly, he was hit with a desire to *watch* this, and he propped himself up on an elbow. "Oh GOD," he said, staring with wide eyes at what he could see of the motion of Justin's hand coinciding with the tugging and pushing and shots of pleasure that he was feeling.

Justin grabbed JC's hand, pulled it to the end of the dildo with his own. "You try," he said simply.

"No, Justin, I don't ... " JC shook his head, not even sure he could work his muscles to thrust in the right direction right then. But he let Justin guide his hand anyway, and before he knew it, he had established an even more rapid pace. The hand on his stomach had drifted down to his cock, predictably, and he wondered if Justin would stop him this time.

Justin's breath hitched as he watched. "Oh God," he said, grabbing his own cock and jerking it quickly. "You're SO fucking hot."

"Mmm, baby, Justin ... " JC moaned, tugging on himself as his other hand moved almost frantically against his ass. He pushed his hips off the bed by resting his weight on his feet, and tried as hard as he could to *feel* something between his legs.

"Can I fuck you?"

"What?" JC gasped, falling back to the bed, his hands stilling. "What do you ... ?"

"Can I," said Justin, a bit shakily, "pull that dildo out of your body and replace it with my dick and thrust until we both come?"

JC pulled it out himself, eagerly, letting it roll out of his hand onto the bed. He used that hand to spread his thighs wider for Justin, and held out his other to encourage him into his embrace. "Tell me why," he said quickly, his hips and ass trembling.

"Because I want you, so bad," said Justin, positioning himself. He almost thrust right in -- was *about* to -- then bit his lip hard and grabbed a condom from the drawer. "The things I do for you," he muttered as he quickly rolled it on.

JC almost started crying -- with tenderness at Justin taking everything he had said about the condoms to heart, with relief that he was finally going to get what he really wanted, and with almost too much affection that Justin maybe recognized that. "I want YOU," he choked out, and grabbed the base of Justin's cock himself, guiding it in.

Justin groaned in relief as he slid smoothly into JC's body. "You make me hot," he said, then there were no more words as he started fucking him in earnest, driving into his body, leaning down and kissing him thoroughly.

JC came quickly, and powerfully, and without any sound, shooting all over Justin's chest. Part of it was relief, he figured, as he wrapped his legs around Justin's hips ... his body needed its orgasm when it was Justin that was inside him.

Justin couldn't make it last long, not with how turned on he was, but thankfully that wasn't an issue. He let himself come a few moments after JC did, kissing him the whole time and gasping for breath in between.

"I missed you," JC said against Justin's lips, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. "Oh, baby boy, I did. This ... is what I want from you." He kissed him, lapping gently at his mouth, content to do it as long as Justin would let him.

"I was here the whole time," whispered Justin with a bit of a smile. "JC ... do you like your body?"

"Why?" JC asked softly, very curious about what Justin was getting at -- whether he was still bothered about what JC had said earlier, or if he thought there was something wrong with him, that he didn't like fucking himself as much as he liked having Justin do it for him ...

Justin smiled and kissed him again, briefly. "When you were doing that? It was like ... the first time I saw you enjoying YOU. Treating yourself good. It was ... cool. And a turn-on," he admitted.

JC shrugged and moved his mouth to Justin's jaw. "I like it better when *you're* enjoying me. *That's* a turn-on."

Justin laughed happily. "Oh, I do," he said. "I guess ... I wasn't just talking sexually. But I don't want to talk about it. Kiss me?"

JC thrust his tongue in Justin's mouth, in a dirty way that seemed incongruous with the fact that they were just coming DOWN from fucking, and rolled over on top of Justin, letting him slip out of his body. "Like that?"

Justin blinked and his eyes got wide. "Um ... yeah," he said. "Again, please."

JC did it again, letting his tongue linger longer, licking at the roof of Justin's mouth, then tracing along the inside of his lower lip. "Like that?" he said again, deeper.

"If I hadn't already come three times, I'd be hard right now," said Justin with a sheepish grin.

JC counted in his head, then grinned back and kissed Justin, but more chastely this time. "I want to kiss you that way, every time I see you."

Justin's smile just got broader, but he also tilted his head curiously. "Why?" he asked.

"Because I like making you hard?" JC laughed. "Seriously, I don't know. I just want to kiss you, from now on. Justin ... why do we keep saying things like that, and then end up fighting anyway?"

"Does it make YOU hard, to kiss me?" he asked, avoiding even TALKING about fighting, right now.

JC frowned slightly, wondering if the man in his arms was the same one who complained that JC never TALKED to him. "Of course, it does," he said gently. "It makes me hard to *look* at you; I've told you that."

Justin smiled. "I like it when you say things that make me feel good. It's a very good idea to keep doing that."

JC squeezed him tightly then let his arms fall to the bed. "You should take that off, baby boy," he said, nodding at the condom. "And then c'mere and snuggle."

Justin slid the condom off and dropped it in the trash. "Better?" he asked, snuggling into JC's side.

JC let him burrow in beside him, and tugged the sheet up over their bodies. "Don't get too comfortable. I'm gonna make you get up and open the window in a couple minutes."

"Maybe I'm gonna make YOU get up and open the window," said Justin, taking off his glasses again and setting them aside so he could rest his face against JC's neck.

"No way!" JC laughed, nuzzling Justin's head up so HE could bury his face in JUSTIN's neck. "I've been fucked twice tonight. I can't move."

"Yeah, but I had my mind blown," protested Justin, nuzzling right back and licking the underside of JC's chin. "That's GOTTA count for something."

"Pfft," JC scoffed. "That was nothing," he said, but he was teasing, and squeezed Justin again to prove it. "Thank you," he said, almost silently, knowing he'd have to, sooner or later.

"For what?" asked Justin, burrowing closer to him..

"You know, for what," JC said. "Just ... let me say it."

Justin nodded. "Okay, baby," he said, then smiled. "I think that window is staying closed."

"Nooo!" JC pushed at him half-heartedly. "C'mon, Justin, you KNOW I like sleeping with it open ... please ... "

Justin groaned. "Are you serious?" he asked. "SERIOUS serious?"

"*Please*," JC pouted, lowering his eyelashes, not entirely sure that technique would work but curious to see if it would. "Please, Justin."

Justin sighed dramatically. "Fine," he said, rolling his eyes and crawling out of the bed carefully, groping his way to the window and opening it. "You SO owe me."

"Aww," JC said softly. "Really? You wouldn't do it, just 'cause I asked?"

Justin knocked the alarm clock onto the floor as he groped his way back to the bed. "Fuck," he muttered, sighing, but he was used to doing shit like that. "I'm cold now," he said, curling against JC's body as he got in.

"Aww," JC purred this time, wrapping his arms around Justin's shivering frame. "It's okay, baby boy. I don't mind." JC is being just entirely TOO affectionate, and he has no idea where it came from. Except he can't get the way that Justin ended up fucking him, the way he stopped to get a condom, ANY of that out of his brain.

"So what did you think?" asked Justin finally, curiously.

"I think I'm in love with your cock," JC yawned, scooting further down under the blankets. He knew what Justin was asking, he thought, but didn't want to have to say, outright, that the fucking was the best part.

"Well, at least you're in love with part of me," said Justin, but he was smiling.

"Aw, don't be like that," JC sighed, smiling too. "What'd YOU think?"

"It was hot," said Justin. "I ... already told you what about it made me hottest, though."

"Mmm," JC mumbled non-committally, wondering how much Justin was reading into what JC was doing to himself. As far as he was concerned, it was more something he did out of curiosity, and 'cause Justin showed him what to do, than because of him *enjoying* himself or anything. "YOU'RE hot," he mumbled instead.

Justin smiled. "No, just talented," he argued playfully.

"That too," JC yawned again, thankful that Justin let THAT go, too. "Justin?" he asked, tentatively. "Do you think ... maybe ... we can make love, in the morning?"

"Oh, JC," said Justin softly. "I would love that ... so much." His faces flushed a little as his hand ran over JC's chest, and he almost fell in love with him again just for asking that.

JC smiled faintly and brushed Justin's hair back from his face, feeling better about making the cock comment, even as a diversion. "You could even wake me up to do it, if you wanted."

"Or you could wake ME up again," said Justin with a grin, wrapping his arms around him comfortably.

"No, you," JC murmured, resting his lips against Justin's neck and closing his eyes.

"Okay," agreed Justin. "Just as long as it doesn't have to be early." His hands drifted along JC's skin as he started to fall asleep.

JC held Justin's face and kissed him gently, before bringing the covers up under their chins and falling off to sleep himself.

JC walked back into Justin's bedroom, rubbing his hair vigorously with a towel, hitching the other back up around his waist, dripping water all the way down the hall. In the week since they had gotten back together, they discovered they had to take showers seperately in the morning, even (or especially) when they'd have sex when they woke up ... otherwise they'd never get anything done that day. JC understood that, but it felt a little lonely anyway, and so he always rushed through his to get back to Justin. "Hey," he said brightly, when he opened the door, and threw his towel playfully on Justin's head.

Justin caught it and dropped it on the chair. "Hey yourself," he said, flicking his eyes up for a moment to catch JC's, a smile playing at his lips. "Back already?" He dropped the magazine he'd been thumbing through on the floor and slid off the bed, naked, stretching broadly. "You're very wet."

JC winked. "Yup." He let his eyes travel over Justin's body, and figured maybe the forced separation hadn't helped too much. "So," he leered, "what are we doing today?"

Justin chuckled. "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm spending the day at mom's. She's much easier to deal with there than when we're out in public. Still have to wear the damn contacts, though, so I'll probably be cranky tonight when I get back." He ran a hand through his still-drying hair and went over to his closet to find something to wear. It couldn't be quite as casual as he was comfortable in, but also didn't have to be as trendy as the things he wore in public. "Why don't you spend the day in the studio, hon? I know you've been wanting to go."

"I'll just come with you," JC said off-handedly, lounging on the bed and watching Justin. "To Mama Lynn's. Maybe that'll make it a little more tolerable?" He did want to go to the studio, sort of, but he wasn't sure that he could get in at such late notice. And plus, he was still basking in the afterglow of asking Justin to make love to him again that morning -- which he had, gladly it seemed -- and didn't really want to let Justin leave him all day long.

"Huh?" said Justin, looking over his shoulder, surprised. "No, no, don't worry about that. We're just having some 'mommy and her baby boy' time. It'll be fine. Good even." He pulled a blue shirt off a hanger and held it up to himself. "You go ahead and call John up, see if you can get some work done." He turned around. "Do you think mom would like this one?"

"*I* like that one," JC pouted teasingly, stretching back on the bed and letting the towel around his waist slip a little. "And you're MY baby boy." He grinned, and then bit his lip a little when Justin seemed intent on getting dressed. "Seriously, there's no way I'll get in today, and plus, I think they had to finish mixing something before I could do anything else on that song. C'mon. Let me come with you. I'll behave."

"Well, isn't there something else you could be doing?" asked Justin, picking out a pair of jeans quicker than he had the shirt. "I was really looking foward to spending some time with her, JC. I have a lot of stuff to tell her, you know? You and me can hang out tonight." He grabbed a pair of clean boxers from the drawer and started pulling his clothes on. "You COULD try to get that stain out of the pool table today, maybe, before one of the other guys notices it."

"Hmph," JC grunted, even though that brought back a great memory, turning over on the bed so he could still see Justin. "What am I, fucking Cinderella? Come ON, Justin. I don't want you to be gone all day. I'll let you drive the Jeep ... " He trailed off. "Wait. What? You have stuff to tell her?" He bit his lip. "What kind of stuff? And why can't I be there, for it?"

"It's not THAT, C," said Justin, exasperated. "I just want to talk to her. Like a mommy. Tell her about my week and the good news about our next tour and maybe a little bit about you. You know, just me and her. It's just for the day, JC. Honestly, I'm sure you can find SOMEthing to do with a few hours of free time, can't you?" He took his glasses off to pull the shirt on over his head, then slipped them back on and stared at JC for a moment. "I just need a little time, baby. I'll be back this evening. After dinner. You don't need to worry about that."

To be honest, JC *didn't* think he could find something to do. He hadn't been left alone, really, like that, since they'd hooked back up ... and he cringed when he remembered what happened when Justin spent the day away from him *before*. "You're right, I DON'T have to worry about that," JC said, still grinning but a lot more hesitantly. "Cause you're not going without me. Especially until *after dinner*. Why are you being so mean?" It was said jokingly, but JC was pretty sure Justin would recognize the truth underneath.

Justin looked at him incredulously. "Why do you have such a problem with me taking ANY time to myself?" he asked, quite seriously. "It's not like I want to be with you any less ... I just need a little time away, sometimes. You know how I am." He turned around and examined himself critically in the mirror. "She's probably gonna tell me this shirt makes me look fat," he muttered before turning back around again. "Don't tell me I'm being *mean*, JC. That's ridiculous. I mean ... you could go to a movie or something. You could find something to do on your own. You don't need to be with me, like, ALL the time."

"I KNOW that," JC said petulantly, after flinching at Justin's words and Justin's tone and Justin's *reaction*. "I'm sorry if I WANT to be around you, god. Justin ... please ... I just want to be *near* you, today. After ... what we did this morning, I don't want to have to miss you. You *know* what I get like, when I miss you." He didn't mean to refer to that, and was a little ashamed that it came out sounding like a threat, but he didn't want to lose this battle.

Justin sighed and softened a bit. "Okay," he said finally. "I'll call mom and tell her we'll meet another day. But I still need time to myself, JC ... it's just how I am, okay? We've kinda got to learn to accept these things about each other, right?" He glanced at himself in the mirror again. "At least I know YOU like this shirt," he said. "You wanna maybe make us some breakfast? I'll just call mom and be right out there ... "

JC smiled brightly when Justin capitulated, but his eyes got wary when he seemed to be kicking him out. "I'm not dressed, yet," he pouted, looking at Justin with big eyes. "You go ahead and call her, and then we can BOTH go make breakfast." He ignored Justin's comment about needing time alone, knowing -- or at least hoping -- that he could give Justin enough to reasons to forget why he wanted to be by himself in the first place. "Well ... you can turn on the coffee pot, at least." He sat up on the bed, on his knees, and tugged off his towel. "I *know* you're skilled at turning things on."

Justin had to grin a bit at that, but he's still unsettled that JC doesn't seem to want him to get ANY time alone. If he had to take a piss, would JC want to fucking hold it or something? "Bet I can turn that thing on with one finger," he joked instead as he untucked his shirt and got comfortable, now that he was staying home. "I'm just gonna use the phone in the living room, then," he said, then went over to JC and gave him a quick kiss. "I'll meet you in the kitchen, baby."

JC grabbed Justin before he could back away. "I know what your finger can do, I'm not doubting you." He kissed him again, nipping at his lips, before jumping off the bed. "Just hold on, it'll take me two seconds to put pants on, and then you can use the one in the kitchen while I'm cooking. 'Kay?" He took Justin's agreement as a given as he turned his back to him, pawing through the drawers for some jeans. "Know what you want?"

"It's just a phone call," said Justin, rolling his eyes. "It's 5 minutes, JC. Why are you being all weird about it?" He headed to the bedroom door and gave him a smile. "Something with eggs would be nice. I'll see you in a few."

"Well, wait," JC started, then forced himself to shut up. He WAS being a freak about it, and he got what he wanted, so he really didn't need to push his luck. "Okay, eggs," he said softly, waving at Justin with his tee shirt. "Yeah, see ya." He took his time a little more after Justin left the room, grabbing his towel and drying off all the still-damp parts of his skin, bothering to actually put on underwear, for once. He hummed a little to himself, and tried to think of something they could do together, that afternoon.

Justin gave him a bit of a strange look, then just smiled as he left the room and went into the living room to call his mother. She wasn't very happy that he was cancelling on such short notice again -- she'd apparently been making his favorite for dinner -- but she agreed they'd get together the next weekend and catch up. He hadn't told her at ALL about JC yet, really, but was looking forward to it. After that he lounged for a moment with his head on the side of the couch, enjoying what he could of the peace and quiet.

JC finished getting dressed, then ran back into the bathroom to do his hair, figuring that would give Justin plenty of time to talk to his mom. And then they could eat, and then maybe make out a little more, and maybe they could get to the studio after all. Except *together*, he thought, as he walked right into the kitchen and turned on the coffeemaker. He wasn't hungry himself, and not really in the mood to cook, but Justin had asked him to -- wherever he WAS -- so he figured it was the least he could do, pulling out the cheese and eggs for an omelet and a cup of yogurt for himself. "Just?" he called, finally, after waiting several minutes for his boyfriend to join him.

Justin was startled by the sound of JC's voice calling his name; he hadn't heard the telltale sounds of JC working in the kitchen to tell him that he was in there. Then again, he hadn't really been listening for them. He sat up again, then stood up and stretched before joining JC in the kitchen. "Hey," he said, slipping his arms around JC's waist from behind and kissing his neck. "Are you making me an omelet, baby? That looks great."

JC's eyes drifted shut at Justin's embrace, and he shifted his hips a little to rub his ass against Justin's groin. "Hey," he replied softly, standing still as long as he could before he had to step away a little to flip the omelet. "Let me know if you want anything else on it. How's your mom?"

"Disappointed," said Justin as he released him and went to JC's side to lean against the counter. "But we're going to get together next weekend so it's okay. That's good with just the cheese, I like them that way. God that's big ... half's for you, right? But don't you like ham in it?" He watched JC cook curiously, even knowing that the knowledge of how to do it would probably not cure his ineptness.

JC laughed at him. "When's the last time you saw me eat breakfast? When I was, like, fifteen?" He shook his head. "No, this is yours, baby boy. If you don't want all of it, don't eat it. I'll leave it for Joey." He leaned over Justin and grabbed a plate out of the cupboard, then scooped the omelet onto it and set it in front of him. "Thanks for staying, today," he said, smiling as he brushed against Justin again to grab the coffee mugs. "What would you like to do?"

"That's a lot just for me," said Justin dubiously, but picked it up and sat down at the table. "It looks great, though. Will you think I'm a pig if I finish it?" He took a big bite and motioned at the seat next to him. "I was just gonna watch TV today. Or maybe read that new book that Lance gave me last week. Nothing big. What about you?"

JC ducked around behind Justin and planted a kiss on the back of his neck before sitting down and spooning a bit of yogurt into his mouth. "Watch TV, with you," he said, smiling. "Or napping with my head in your lap, when you're reading. Or we can even try to go down to the studio, like you said, if you want?" He grinned as he watched Justin enjoying the omelet. "Just wanna be with you, baby boy, whatever it is."

Justin paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. "Isn't there anything you want to do, you know, for you?" Part of him was thrilled that JC had become so eager to spend time with him, to be affectionate, which was just about the next-best thing to loving. The other part was frustrated that there was nothing ELSE JC ever wanted to do. He never had any time to do any of the things he used to spend ALL his time doing. "Like ... what did you do with your time before we got together, C?"

JC smirked, about to make a snappy comment about Joey, before he realized that might not be taken too well. The thing was, that really WAS what he did with his time, before they got together. He did Joey. Or Chris, or someone else he picked up. None of which he was going to be *allowed* to do, while Justin read ... even if he had wanted to. And then ... the rest of the time he partied. Or just drank. Which he bet Justin wouldn't find much more appealing. "I don't know," he said, his smile slipping ... feeling self-conscious and pathetic, all of a sudden. "Wrote?" he said weakly.

"Well, you could do that, then," said Justin hopefully. "Are you working on anything right now?" He took another big bite of the omelet as he waited for JC to answer. If JC was writing, he'd have time to lie on the couch and read for a while. Just RELAX, and not have to worry about anything for a while. And after that, well, having JC attached to his hip wouldn't be such a bad thing at all. JC'd really been into 'making love' as opposed to 'sex' for the last while and, frankly, Justin was all for that. Now if only he could get JC to be inside him, and still call it 'making love'.

"No," JC mumbled, and stood up quickly to throw away his more-than-half-full yogurt cup. He couldn't really interpret the eagerness he heard in Justin's voice, at getting JC to do something by himself, when JC didn't want to think about it, let alone DO it. "Hey ... why don't we rent a movie? We don't have to do the studio, I won't make you work. Let's just relax together, and maybe go out to dinner, later? Maybe?"

"Sure," said Justin with a smile. "Why don't we do that this afternoon? And then this morning, we can both just do our own thing." He grinned suddenly. "And no, I don't expect you to go take care of that stain. Maybe we can go look at it after dinner. How about that?" He finished off the omelet -- surprising himself a little -- and pushed the plate aside.

"Okay," JC nodded, picking Justin's dishes up immediately and taking them to the sink. That didn't sound too bad, he figured. He'd go grab his notebook, and sit with Justin wherever he was going to be, and at least try to write. He smiled to himself. And then after twenty minutes of that, he could bug Justin to pay attention to him. "Just let me know where you're going to be, and I'll go grab my notes and join you in a sec."

"Oh," said Justin. "Well, I was just gonna lie on the couch, but you're probably going to want to work in the music room. You like to fiddle on the piano while you're writing, don't you?" Justin knew he did, it was something he liked to stand and listen to, sometimes. "Don't worry baby," he added, smiling. "We'll spend the rest of the day together."

"No," JC said softly. "I just ... I'm working on lyrics, so ... " He looked at Justin carefully, trying to figure out if he was *saying* he didn't want to be in the same room as JC ... and if he WAS saying that, what JC had done wrong to make him not want to be around him. "I'm just gonna sit with you." He smiled sweetly. "Maybe it'll inspire me."

Justin had to smile at that. "Okay," he said, figuring it wouldn't be so bad if JC was just quiet and busy, like him. I wasn't like he didn't want to be around JC or anything, just that he didn't feel like interacting with him for a while. Just wanted to do his own thing, whether it was visiting his mom or reading or ... whatever. "That's where I'll be then. On the couch."

"Okay," JC echoed, and walked into the music room to grab his notebook. He felt a little wary of everything, but as long as Justin would sit with him, and he didn't have to find something else to occupy his time, he was determined to be happy. On his way back to the living room, he grabbed a sweatshirt and tugged it on.

Justin left his plate where it was -- he'd just get it later or something -- and went into the living room, flopping down on the long couch and picking up the paperback off the coffeetable where it had been sitting for days, waiting for him to get to it. But every moment up until now had been spent with JC. He was looking forward to the break.

JC stepped tentatively in the room, and smiled when he saw Justin holding his book way too close to his face, despite his glasses. He walked over to the couch and hovered over him for a minute, then sat down on the floor by Justin's head and uncapped his pen.

Justin turned his head to look at JC and smiled. "You need me to move my feet, hon? There's lots of room up here."

JC shook his head, then leaned it back on the cushion next to Justin. "No, it's okay," he said softly, still shyly. "I'll sit down here." He brought his hand up to trail down Justin's cheek.

"Um, okay," said Justin, his smile a little shaky now. "Well, as long as you're comfortable, baby." He kissed the top of JC's head, then turned back to his book.

JC smiled and let go of Justin's face, turning to his book. After a couple minutes, though, he sighed heavily, and started tapping his pen on the spiral binding. Then sighed again.

Justin ignored the first sigh, but couldn't ignore the second. "C, is there a problem?"

JC was *bored*, and NOT in the mood to try to write anything. "This just isn't ... " he started, then turned his head. "I changed my mind. Can I sit up there with you?"

Justin slid his feet a little closer to his body in response, leaving some room for JC at the other end of the couch. "Sure," he said, but his eyes were still on his book.

JC scrambled up into the space Justin had left, and tried to get comfortable, to see if that made a difference. But it wasn't the problem, and he knew it. He let one of his hands grab Justin's ankle lightly, and started rubbing his calf.

Justin sighed and rested the book against his chest, staring at JC. "Hon? I'm trying to read here. Seriously. Do you have to ... ? I mean, not that it isn't nice."

"What am I doing?" JC asked curiously. "I'm not saying anything, or anything. Is that distracting?"

Justin paused. "I guess not," he said, then smiled and turned back to his book again. As long as JC was just doing that, it would probably still be okay.

JC sighed again, and moved his hand up to inside Justin's knee, before bending over to squeeze between Justin's body and the back of the couch, peeking over his arm to try and look at what he was reading.

Justin sighed louder and put the book down again. 'JC, *what* are you doing?"

JC smiled hesitantly. "Just trying to see what you're reading. Is it good?"

"I don't know yet," muttered Justin. "I've barely had a chance to finish 2 pages."

JC shrank back a little. "Sorry," he whispered, then laid a hand on Justin's belly and rested his head on his shoulder, hopefully not in his way. "I'll be quiet."

"JC," said Justin, sighing again, half in disappointment and half in frustration, "don't you ever want time alone?"

"But I'm not SAYING anything!" JC protested, knowing what point Justin was trying to make, or thinking he knew. "Why can't I be here?"

"OH, JC," said Justin sadly. "You're really DON'T get it, do you? I just ... I just want to have a bit of time to myself. That's all."

"No," JC bit his lip. "Why? What did I DO? You said you wanted to be around me, and now you just ... don't?"

"Honey ... it's just for a couple hours is all. It's nothing to do with YOU. I just need a little bit of time for me, that's all." He smiled at JC and tried to show him that it really WASN'T about him. "I used to spend all my time alone, remember? All this time not-alone ... it's a bit of a shock to the system ... "

"I thought you liked it," JC insisted, quietly, hurt on his face. "Like me, not having to be alone any more. How can you say it's not about me, when *I'm* the only thing KEEPING you from being by yourself?" His tone got a little frantic. "Is that ... are you saying you want to go BACK to that?"

"Whoa, JC, calm DOWN," said Justin. "Shit, what are you freaking out about? I just want a couple hours to read a book, which I haven't done in ages, then we're going to spend the rest of the day together. I don't understand what the problem is! I really don't, JC, so please ... explain it to me."

"Nothing," JC said dully, basically shutting down and pulling himself up with his hand on the top of the couch. "I don't have a problem. Enjoy your book." Since it was apparently more interesting than HIM.

"JC ... I'm serious," said Justin, trying to keep his attention now. "I really DON'T understand."

"Too bad," JC mumbled, climbing over the back of the sofa and regaining his balance quickly. "Apparently I don't, either." He walked over to the bar and sat down, but didn't reach for drink just yet.

Justin sighed one last time and gave up on the book, getting up off the couch and following him. "All right," he said, sitting down next to him and, briefly, remembering how many sexual experiences he'd had at this bar. "Let's figure this out, okay? Before it turns into a fight?"

"I'm not fighting," JC sulked. "And there's nothing to figure out. You don't want me around for a while; I get it. What else?"

"I just ... think you're taking it the wrong way. Or you wouldn't be so upset. You DO know that I still want to be with you, right?"

"Sure," JC said hollowly, rubbing his fingers along the countertop. "You just come find me. I'm really good at that."

"DO you ever want time to yourself? Really?" asked Justin, putting his hand over JC's, trying to be understanding about this even though all he wanted to do was grab the damn book and lock himself in his room or something. "Or do you always want to be with someone else, if you can?"

JC stared at him. "When I know I can be with you, I want to be with you. And I'm just pathetic enough to want it, even when you want nothing LESS than for me to be with you. So let go." He tried to pull his hand away, and push back from the bar, all at once.

"JC, don't get mad just because you don't understand," snapped Justin. "I'm TIRED of that. Would you just LISTEN to me?"

"I AM," JC replied, calmly. "I did. What did I get wrong, really? You don't want me around for a while. That's it. FINE. So let me give you what you want." "But you think it's because I don't want you."

"So?" JC shrugged, finally yanking his hand out from Justin's. "Same result, either way. You get as much time alone as you want, then you come find me, and I spread my legs for you. I *know* how this goes."

"JC! That's NOT what it's like between us, and you know it. Why are you SAYING that?" He took JC's face between his hands. "I love you, you precious idiot, and I would NEVER treat you like that. All i want's a couple hours to ready my book, baby, then I"m all yours!"

JC sniffed and tried to look away. "But I miss you," he whispered. "Bad. And I worry you won't come find me again. Or ... if you do, it's just 'cause you ... decided you like sex."

"Well, I DO like sex, thanks to you," said Justin, smiling, "but that's not why I'd come looking for you. I'd come looking for you because you're my boyfriend and I like being with you ... and sometimes I just need a little bit of time alone. And that's just how I am, and it has NOTHING to do with you. I love you." He paused -- he hadn't been saying that as much lately, just so JC wouldn't feel pressured, -- but now seemed to be the right time. "I love you. I love you."

JC sniffed again. "And I can't even cry," he moaned, "cause you deserve to have your alone time, if you need it, and shouldn't put it off to coddle me." As always, he was pacified by Justin reassuring him that he still loved him, saying it in a way that made him BELIEVE it.

"How come you DON'T ever want time alone, baby?" asked Justin, still holding his face, but more lightly now, stroking it with his thumbs.

JC tried to shake his head, but it turned into a nuzzle into Justin's hands. He didn't know the real answer, or at least the whole answer. A lot of it was being scared of Justin not returning, like he said. A lot of it was still being scared of Joey approaching him. And the rest was being just really ... unimpressed with himself. And empty. "Dunno," he whispered, and it was the truth, too.

"Okay, well, why don't you lay down with me on the couch while I read then," said Justin, resigned to the fact that, for now, it was the best he could get. "But I AM going to visit my mom next weekend, C. So ... maybe if you started making plans now, it wouldn't be so hard?"

"Sure," JC nodded. "But ... I don't really feel like sitting out here, anymore," he gritted out. "Go ahead and read. And seriously, come find me when you want. I'll be ... somewhere. Back in my room, maybe."

"You sure, hon?" asked Justin, genuinely concerned.

JC nodded again, and blew him a kiss before turning around and walking stiffly toward the door.

Justin watched him go with a frown on his face, then shook it off and sat down with the book again. But it was awfully hard to concentrate. Finally, he just put it down and closed his eyes.

It was a sign of how upset JC was, or how numb, or both, that he really did go back to his own room. Once there, he grabbed a near-full bottle of whiskey from under the bed, and curled up against the closet door, shoulders hitching.

JC's exit nagged at Justin, not letting him concentrate on anything else, until finally he opened his eyes and sat up and gave in. He stood up and went down the hallway to his bedroom to spend some time with him, find out just WHAT was really going on. When JC wasn't in there, he sighed sadly and went and knocked on the door to JC's room.

JC looked up in surprise, a little, when he heard the knock ... but then figured he was hearing things and took another swig of whiskey. It couldn't be Justin; he needed time ALONE, he thought bitterly.

"JC?" called Justin softly, his hand on the doorknob but not turning it. "Are you in there?"

A smile threatened JC's face when he realized it WAS Justin, that he had come after him, until it occured to him that maybe he was just here to make fun of JC, or to give him a hard time about making him feel guilty, or something. "What do you want?" he called shakily.

"You," said Justin, trying not to sigh audibly. "Can I come in?" "Yes," JC said simply, softer, wondering why Justin even felt the need to ask. The fact that the door was closed wasn't ever an indication that he wanted to be away from Justin, or anything. Just everybody else.

Justin opened the door and scanned the room for JC, not expecting to find him on the floor. When he did spot him, he closed the door behind him and sat down on the floor in front of JC. Gently, he pulled the bottle of whiskey out of JC's finger and moved it aside, out of his reach. "Hey," he said, then.

JC looked at him with wide eyes that turned into a bit of a glare. "Hi. Can I have that back?"

Justin shook his head. "I'd rather not," he said, "if we're going to be talking, JC. Can you tell me what's going on, hon? I just ... I don't understand how I'm hurting you, and it's just SO obvious that I am."

JC set his jaw and leaned over Justin to try and grab the bottle anyway. "I'm capable of talking. I just ... don't know how to explain to you why it SUCKS when you don't want to be around me, why that hurts, if you don't ... just get that it does. I know what you're gonna say, but how can I really interpret it as anything other than you choosing something else over me?" "Because it's you I come back to every time," said Justin softly, keeping JC away from the bottle with his body. "Because it's you I WANT, even if I do other things sometimes. I'd spend my whole fucking life with you if you'd let me, JC, and you know that. So why are you doubting it now?"

"Oh," JC said tearfully, giving up on the liquor and slumping back against the closet. "I'm still ... I'm a little scared. This is as new to me as it is to you, in some ways, and ... I've just been SO scared, all along, of messing it up. Justin ... I KNOW you need time alone. In my head, I know that. But I'll be fucked if it doesn't still hurt."

"So how do I make it not hurt, then?" asked Justin, moving closer to him. He touched JC's leg and hoped that it would be welcome, that JC would be receptive to what he was trying to accomplish here. "How do I make it so we both get what we need? Because I'm not willing to lose you."

"You won't," JC sighed, surprising himself with how confidently he said that, and wondering what it meant. "I'll learn. I'll learn, okay? Just ... " he bit his lip. He might be able to teach himself not to take it so personally, and teach himself to realize that Justin would come back, but he couldn't teach Joey to leave him alone. "Not for too long, at once, okay? No more ... no more whole day things. Just yet." Justin nodded. "I can try," he said. "I want to try. But what DID you do ... before me ... if you're so afraid of being alone?" It was an honest question; there was no hint of mockery in it at all.

JC raised his eyebrow and looked at the bottle next to Justin pointedly, before leaning back again and shutting his eyes. "Hmm," he hummed as he let the alcohol he did drink wash over him. "Before you was different, anyway, being alone," he said idly, softly, almost unconsciously.

Justin's own eyes shot to the bottle sadly. "Yeah, I guess it was," he admitted. He didn't like to think about that, even though it was a big part of JC's life, still. Even if other things weren't. "Do you miss it?"

JC opened one eye. "What? Drinking? Or being able to tolerate being alone, a little better?"

"Do you miss whatever it is you USED to do?" clarified Justin. "Before me."

Reaching out a tentative hand, JC gripped Justin's chin. "No," he said softly. "I thought I would, I was scared that I would ... and I don't. The only thing I miss, anymore ..." He paused, and looked a little surprised. "Is you. The only thing." Justin smiled hesitantly. "Really?" he said. "I was worried you did ... that I messed things up for you, somehow."

JC paused, then shook his head, the surprised expression still on his face. "What did I give up, that you don't give me better or more? Plus ... just everything else?" Something was slowly occuring to JC, this thought about *why* he couldn't be alone anymore, *why* he missed Justin, *why* he didn't miss his old life.

"Nothing, I hope," said Justin, his smile broadening a fraction. "I want to be able to give you everything you need, JC. I'll do what it takes to keep you with me. I just ... I wanted who I am to be what *you* wanted. That's the one thing I couldn't fix, if you didn't."

"Is that why you came and found me?" JC asked instead. "Why are you here?" He blushed, slightly, and ducked his head. "I didn't mean it like that, but ... if who you are is someone who needs time alone ... why aren't you taking adavantge of it now?"

"Because making sure that you and me are okay is more important than being alone right now. And figuring out what I did to make you upset, so it doesn't happen again." Justin reached out and touched JC's face. "Remember how much we like it when we're both happy?" JC ducked away from Justin's fingers shyly. "Yes. But ... I understood why you wanted to be alone. I underSTAND. I just ... had to come cope with it." He looked at the bottle again. "Maybe not in the best way, but ... it's not something you have to fix."

"I don't want you to need to do that anymore," said Justin, trying to touch him again. "When you're happy ... you don't. Maybe we can cope by ... talking about it? I dunno. Figuring out how to make it work."

JC still hung back from Justin's touch, not wanting to be kissed when he knew he tasted like whiskey, not wanting to let himself be carried away by Justin when it would prove something to both of them if he could let Justin have time alone. "Just go," he waved at him, but smiling softly. "You can take that, if you want, but ... we don't need to talk about this."

"Why not?" asked Justin. "Will it just ... get better, if we don't? I mean ... I can leave, if that's what you really want ... "

"I'm just ... " JC tried to find the words, some casual way to explain that he was realizing the problem was not really Justin leaving him alone, as much as it was being just being APART from Justin. "I'm not upset anymore. Really. I was worried for the wrong reasons, I think. If you still want to read, you should." "I do," admitted Justin almost reluctantly. "But I don't NEED to. But maybe ... you could come in the living room with me and maybe try and write while I read ... and I can put my feet in your lap and you can still touch me and stuff. I think maybe that would be really nice, right now."

JC looked at him carefully. "You didn't like that, before."

"Maybe I was a little TOO uptight before," said Justin, smiling. "I do like it when you touch me like that. You know ... when I'm doing something else ... like you want to touch me even when we're not DOING anything, you know?"

"You're not ... you won't resent it? Are you sure?" JC asked carefully. "I don't want you to do this, just cause you think it's the only way to patch things up."

"I won't resent it," said Justin. "I promise. You're right, JC ... we're both still feeling this thing out. We don't entirely KNOW what'll work and what won't. So we should try." He smiled again, DID touch JC's face this time, if only briefly.

JC let himself sigh into Justin's touch. "Okay. So ... did you get what you came in here, for?" "Not entirely," admitted Justin. "But I'm closer than I was. And I got you back, which was the most important thing. Can we talk about it again some other time ... when we both start to figure it all out? "

JC thought that sounded good, seeing as how he had this new realization to deal with himself. He wasn't scared of being alone, and he wasn't scared of not being wanted ... he was just completely unwilling to be away from Justin one second more than he had to be. "Okay," he nodded. "We can talk then. I'll tell you ... everything I can."

Justin nodded. "That's enough," he said, and it was. It was everything he needed and could have expected, right now. He stood up and held out a hand to JC. "Coming, baby?"

JC let himself be pulled up, unfolding to Justin's height, and rocked against his body. "Are we good?" he murmured into Justin's chest. "I'm sorry for acting so ... spoiled."

"You weren't," Justin assured him. "I just ... I really DIDN'T understand, JC. But I'm trying to."

"So ask me," JC said, knowing that Justin said they'd talk later, but not wanting this to hang over them any more than it already was. "What has you confused?" "Just ... why you were so upset that I wanted to do something by myself. When you KNEW that I loved you, and that I wouldn't be gone for LONG, let alone forever." Justin shrugged. "I'm honestly not upset about it ... I just didn't, you know, understand." It didn't really occur to JC to hesitate to share any of this with Justin, once he asked ... maybe not even realizing all the implications, himself. "I don't ... it wasn't you, I don't think. I kind of ... panicked, because I wanted to be around you. So, SO badly. *I* didn't want to let YOU go, instead of not wanting you to let ME go. Does that ... even make sense ... ?"

"It ... a little. Maybe," said Justin. "Does that ... kinda mean you want to spend time with me. Lots of it. And that scares you a little?"

"No," he said, a little amazed himself. "It scared me because I was having to deal with NOT spending that time with you, and not really realizing WHY that scared me." He chuckled. "This sounds so stupid. I guess I ... just want to be around you. Have I said that, to you? Do you KNOW that? That I'm at this point, where I want to spend every breath with you?"

Justin suddenly grinned, and pulled JC into a kiss. "No, I didn't know that," he whispered, his face still up against JC's. "Do you know what it does to me, to know? To know you feel like that ... about ME?"

JC shook his head, his eyes sparkling, not sure how he expected Justin to know when he hadn't either. He kissed him back. "What?" he mumbled into Justin's mouth. Justin smiled. "My heat's just, like, bursting. I love you, JC." He kissed him again, and held him as close as he could.

And god help him, for the first time JC was wondering if he could actually say it back. But he bit his lip, knowing he shouldn't until he was absolutely fucking sure, figuring that he was likely just caught up in the look he had put on Justin's face, and the way that Justin came to get him. "Is that a good thing?" he asked softly.

"It's an incredible thing," whispered Justin, kissing his neck and then just hugging him tightly. "An amazing thing, the way you make me feel."

"Thanks," JC said softly, not entirely sure what the best way to respond to that was, not wanting to trivialize it by saying "you, too." He stepped closer between Justin's legs and buried his nose in his shirt, wondering if he would be able to concentrate enough to write right then. "So...still confused?" "Not anymore," whispered Justin. "So ... you gonna come curl up with me in the living room?" He pulled his head back and smiled at him widely. "I'd really like to have you there. I'm sorry about before."

"You don't have to apologize," JC insisted. "I was ... being annoying." He was warm, and content right then, and KNEW he wouldn't write. "How 'bout you just let me nap in your lap? Would that ... be okay?"

"That would be great," said Justin, stroking JC's cheek with his thumb. "You sleepy, hon?"

JC blushed. "Maybe a little. Plus ... if you're taking me out to dinner, I need to be well-rested. Right?" He tugged on Justin's hand a little.

Justin grinned. "Oh, baby ... I wish there was some place I could take you that we could be 'together' ... " He opened the bedroom door and started to pull JC through. "And after ... I want you to be WELL rested for that ... "

JC followed him closely, laughing lightly. "You know us, and the post-meal sex." He rested a hand on Justin's hip as he walked behind him. "Maybe the trick is just to find someplace where we can make out in the bathroom ... " "I am NOT getting caught having sex in a public bathroom," said Justin, turning his head to kiss JC quickly. "Not even for you. We'll have to hold it until we get home."

"Way to make it sound romantic and sexy," JC pouted teasingly. "Who says we'll get caught, anyway?"

Justin laughed. "It would be VERY romantic and sexy," he admitted. "And there's little I want more than to be able to have you whenever and wherever we want. But the cost of that one is a bit too high right now ... don't you think?" He squeezed JC's hand as he led him into the living room.

"I don't know if I like the sensible side of yours," JC frowned as he brushed past Justin to lay on the couch. "Aren't you still supposed to be in the insatiable stage?"

Justin grinned. "For you information, I was about to suggest we order in, so we wouldn't HAVE to wait," he said. "You gonna make room for me, baby?"

JC sighed dramatically and sat back up so Justin could have a seat. "No nice dinners out, no insatiable-ness, and then I just get shoved aside ... " he muttered, before grinning. "I'm kidding. We can do whatever you want. After I nap, a little." Justin sat down and pulled JC's head onto his lap. "Maybe we'll just have to have sex before we go," he said idly as he picked up his book again.

"Oh, maybe," JC yawned, mimicking Justin's tone and turning his face toward the warmth of Justin's hip. It wasn't just that he was about to drift off, but this felt right. Good, even ... regardless of whether Justin was actually paying *attention* to him right then.

Justin held the book in one hand and laced his fingers through JC's hair with the other, resting his hand there. "Maybe we'll have to have it before we go AND when we come back," he said, his eyes on the book now.

JC smiled and pulled his legs up to his chest a little, then fisted his hand in Justin's pants. "I don't see why not," he said softly, yawning again. "And don't worry, I'll get you to change your mind about doing it during, sometime."

"We'll see about that," said Justin, knowing that wouldn't be too difficult for JC to do. "Now get some sleep, baby. You're not as young as you used to be."

JC snorted and punched Justin in the leg with his free hand, but weakly. "Why don't we just see who collapses first, tonight, hmm?" Justin pulled the book away from his face for a moment. "Are you suggesting we have sex until one of us collapses? I'm up for that."

"You're gonna wish you napped," JC replied in a sing-song voice, his face obscured in Justin's leg, smiling at the prospect of everything that night would hold: a nice dinner, time with Justin, SEX with Justin ...

"I'm young and I have stamina," smirked Justin, raising the book again and trying to remember where he was.

"We'll see," JC said again, enjoying their banter, and wanting to see where it might go -- despite his sleepyness -- except ... he still worried about leaving Justin alone to do what he wanted. He was doing JC a favor by letting him sit with him, and JC wasn't going to push it a second time.

Justin stroked JC's head a little bit as he read the book, happy that he was here, really. Happy that they COULD be like this, together, without it having to be anything else. Impulsively he leaned down and kissed JC's face briefly before returning to the novel.

And that sealed it, JC figured, letting his eyes close for real. That was a distracted, dismissive kiss, a sign that it was probably a good idea to succumb to his nap, to fall asleep secure in the knowledge that they were finally sure enough of each other that it wouldn't be misinterpreted.

---

JC wasn't sure what had woken him up, but one of the first things he noticed was that Justin must've gotten up at some point to open the window, because instead of JC being wrapped in his arms, Justin was draped all over JC's body. And the window was open. He smiled and watched him sleep for a minute, twisting around in his arms gingerly, brushing a piece of hair back over Justin's brow over and over when it refused to stay out of his face. Justin looked beautiful, and staring at him, all sorts of memories from that day just hit JC in the back of his head and he knew he wouldn't be falling back asleep any time soon. He carefully pulled away from Justin, repositioning him in the sheets, and crept out of the room.

Justin mumbled something in his sleep and spread out to cover the warm spot that JC had vacated, burying his face in the pillow.

JC started a pot of water boiling, to make some tea, and jumped up on the counter and picked at his nails while he waited. That was ANOTHER thing that was weird ... had this been a month ago, maybe even a WEEK, JC would've been waking up to get a drink so he could go back to sleep. And the thought hadn't even really occured to him. It didn't take Justin long to realize there was no one else in the bed, and that he was sprawled across it alone. Gradually that fact began to pull him out of his deep sleep.

Smiling softly at the recognition that that was just another thing Justin had changed about him -- IMPROVED about him -- without really trying, JC leaned his head back against the cupboard. Like ... wanting to make love. JC had asked Justin, again, if he would do it, once they had gotten home ... and he had, and it was wonderful in that way that it always was when they called it that.

"JC?" mumbled Justin softly, blinking his eyes open and staring at the empty spot he was sprawled over. It was easy, at first, to convince himself that JC was just in the bathroom, though, so he closed his eyes again and sank into JC's pillow.

JC had sort of an ulterior motive for asking for it that night, though. He couldn't get out of his head the fact that he had been so, so close to telling Justin he loved him earlier that day. And falling asleep in Justin's lap in the afternoon -- pleasantly buzzing instead of piss-drunk, because Justin had asked him not to drink and so he *hadn't* -- and then being kissed awake to make out a little before they went to dinner ... and then sharing a nice, intimate, quiet dinner that had nothing to do with either fighting or fucking ... all these things had JC suspecting that he wouldn't have been too hasty if he HAD said it. A few minutes later, when Justin came to realize he was still alone, he sat up and slipped his glasses on and glanced at the time. It was way too early for JC to be up, but clearly he was, and Justin couldn't help but worry about why. Whenever this had happened before, when JC disappeared on him, it was usually to go drink. He told himself not to be to jump to conclusions, though, and slowly managed to get out of bed.

And so making love that night had confirmed it. And falling asleep curled up around Justin had re-confirmed it. And waking up, in the middle of the night, almost bursting with the feeling, had re-RE-confirmed it. No matter whether he deserved to or not, and despite everything, JC had fallen in love with Justin, and couldn't be happier.

Justin pulled on his boxer shorts and slipped out of the bedroom, wanting to find JC and be with him, wherever he was and whatever he was doing. It was the best he could do for him, and for himself. "JC?" he called out softly as he crept down the hallway. "Are you out here, baby?"

The slight guilt JC felt over obviously causing Justin to wake up somehow was completely overwhelmed by the giddyness he felt at being able to see him and touch him and talk to him, and maybe, if the circumstances presented themselves, actually *confess* to him. He jumped down off the counter and peeked his head around the doorway, grinning at Justin. Justin smiled as soon as he saw JC's face. "Hey baby," he said, moving a little faster towards him. "I woke up and you weren't there. I was worried. Is everything okay?"

JC nodded and beckoned Justin with a finger, waiting until he joined him in the kitchen to talk. "I just woke up, and didn't think I could get back to sleep, but I didn't want to bother you. Guess I did anyway," he said sheepishly. "I'm making tea."

Relief and happiness flooded Justin. "Can I have some, too?" he asked, wrapping an arm around JC's waist. "Seeing how I'm up and all?" He kissed JC's forehead. "It's hard to sleep without you now," he confessed. "It just feels so right, with you there."

"I know," JC said softly, eyes shining as he stared up at Justin. "Thank you for opening the window for me. When did you do that?" He turned around around grabbed another mug, getting some lemon out of the fridge for Justin.

"Right around the time you started kicking all the covers off," said Justin with a grin. "I took it as a hint. What woke you up, baby?"

JC blushed and opened his mouth to reply, then bit his lip and shrugged instead. "No clue. Dream, maybe? I don't remember. And then I started playing with your hair, and then I started thinking about tonight, and I .. just couldn't fall asleep, again." "Tonight was wonderful," said Justin, remembering he they'd spent the whole evening together, comfortable in each other's presence no matter what they were doing, and not a single fight. He smiled and kissed JC, on the lips this time. "Can we do it again some time?"

JC sighed into Justin's mouth, then quirked his lips into a grin. "You tell ME; you paid," he told him, then ducked his head. "I'm kidding. Of course we'll do it again. We'll have ... a long time to do it."

Justin grinned widely. "I hope we do," he said. "I want you with me, JC ... through everything." He kissed him again, despite the fact that they both already had a hint of morning breath. He loved it anyway.

"Really?" JC asked, suddenly serious, watching Justin closely. He *could* tell Justin, he SHOULD, but it was still so hard to put himself out on a limb like that, to set himself up. Memories of almost saying it to Joey came rushing back, no matter how hard JC tried to stop them.

"Well, *yeah* really," said Justin, stroking JC's cheek with his fingertips. "I'm in love with you. I *love* you. That means I want to share everything with you, JC." He grabbed JC's waistband with one finger and pulled him closer, a happy grin on his face. "I hope someday you'll really be able to believe that." JC closed his eyes and steeled himself. He wouldn't, he would NOT say "I love you, too," the first time, no matter how right it felt to reply just then, like that. Justin needed to know it was something coming from him alone. "Oh, I believe it," he whispered softly, not even opening his eyes when he started speaking. "I do."

"Good," said Justin, kissing his forehead again. "Your water's boiling, hon."

"Okay," JC said, but didn't move. Didn't want to step out of Justin's embrace, didn't really want the moment to pass him by. But he wasn't any closer to figuring out how to just SAY it. "I think ... there might be a ... a *reason* I can believe that ... "

"Yeah?" said Justin, staring at JC's eyes even though they were closed at the moment. He wasn't sure what the right thing to say would be to get JC to keep talking to him like this, so he decided to just hold him and stay silent and wait.

JC nodded, and took a couple calming breaths. "Yeah," he echoed almost inaudibly. "I believe you, because ... I feel that way, too. About you."

"You really wanna be with me that much, baby?" said Justin, unable to keep his smile from spreading. "That makes me feel SO good." He wrapped his arms around JC and squeezed him gently before letting go again. "No, not that part," JC said, his voice muffled by Justin's chest before he let him go. "I mean, yeah, that too, but ... Justin." He looked up at him, his eyes a little bleary but wide and genuine and nervous. "The rest of it, too."

"The rest of it?" repeated Justin softly, tentatively, trying not to get his hopes up even though his heart was racing. He held JC's face in both hands and stared into his eyes. "What are you saying, JC?"

JC blinked a couple of times, and then raised his own hand to Justin's face, letting his fingers brush against Justin's lips almost reverently. "Will you believe me, if I tell you?" He paused, and then shook his head as much as he could in Justin's hands. "Nevermind. Don't answer that. You said it, you admitted it, you PROVED it without a net. Oh, god, baby boy." He smiled a little desperately. "God. I love you." Justin gasped and his eyes widened. "Oh my god," he whispered and kissed JC with everything he had. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god." He was shaking a little bit, but the smile never left his face. "Oh, JC," he said, finally, cupping his face gently again. "Wow. I love you so much. Is this really happening?"

JC licked his lips after Justin finished kissing him, trembling himself, and blinked again -- a little shell-shocked. "Huh? Is ... is what really happening, Justin?" All he needed was to see Justin's smile hadn't changed, and he knew it was okay to have said it. "You mean, me having fallen completely for you?" He nodded bashfully.

"Yeah," said Justin. "Oh my god, JC. This is ... more than I ever dreamed of. This is perfect. Thank you."

"Perfect?" JC echoed shakily. "At four in the morning, with the teakettle basically boiling over?" He slumped a little against the counter in relief. "Why are you thanking me?"

"Yes, exactly, at four in the morning with the teakettle boiling over," repeated Justin. "It's perfect. Thank you for being mine. And for letting me be yours."

JC thought about it as Justin kissed him again, and figured it maybe WAS perfect. Perfect for them, because it was *right* even though none of the elements were perfect ... just like they could be right for each other even though neither of them were perfect alone. "Yeah, perfect," he breathed.

THE END

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