
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/82357.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      Multi
  Fandom:
      Popslash
  Relationship:
      JC_Chasez/Chris_Kirkpatrick/Lance_Bass
  Additional Tags:
      Established_Relationship, Porn, Threesome_-_M/M/M, Europe-era, Plot_What
      Plot
  Series:
      Part 2 of Porn_Saga_of_DOOM
  Stats:
      Published: 2003-06-08 Words: 6107
****** Unwrapped - Porn Saga of DOOM, part 2 ******
by mickeym
Summary
     It's JC's birthday, and Chris got him a special present.
Notes
     Four time zones. Three continents.
     More smut than you can shake a stick at.
     Three porny threesome stories, all set in Germany.
     by Mickey M., halo, Without Me and Slim
By The Filthy Foursome: Without Me, Slim, halo, and Mickey M
"Dude. Why so glum? It's your birthday." JC shivered when Chris kissed his
neck, tongue lingering just long enough to wet the patch of skin behind his
ear. "You should be all smiles! Happy! Excited!" He hummed in JC's ear and
bounced out of the way when JC swatted at him.
"You're gonna get us in trouble," he hissed softly. Chris smirked, but put a
few more inches of space between them. "It's--all new. Everything. And I'm
excited, but--God, man." He watched the people moving around them,
photographers and assistants and Johnny's assistant, and people who didn't
speak English, or much English, and he was twenty and had a record contract,
and his head hurt.
He just wanted to curl up with Chris for a little while. And maybe see if he
could puzzle some more out of him on the mysterious birthday present Chris kept
teasing about. Whatever it was, it had Chris all ramped up--well, moreso than
usual. JC shivered, thinking about some of the possibilities, and bit his lip.
By the time the day's last picture was taken, his head was throbbing so badly
he didn't even care about presents. All he wanted was a dark room somewhere,
and maybe some blessed quiet.
What he got was a boisterous dinner in some German restaurant, with Joey
toasting him every five minutes until Justin nearly passed out under the table.
Chris had slipped him a packet of pills in the van on the way over; he couldn't
read the description, but Chris swore they were for headaches, so he swallowed
them with some beer, and after a few minutes they did ease the pain enough that
he could eat, and even smile a little. It was nice to have people who wanted to
celebrate with him, even if it wasn't the way he'd have chosen.
The noise level in the room just seemed to increase as the hour got later,
though, and he was starting to grit his teeth (which he knew wouldn't help the
headache any, but he couldn't help it) when Lance stood up, ducking his head a
little. "I'm sorry, guys. I know it's C's birthday and all, but... I'm really
beat. Would you mind if I headed back to the hotel? Y'all don't have to come, I
can find it by myself."
JC's offer to go with was heartfelt, but Chris pulled him back down onto the
bench. "You sure you'll be okay, Lance?" Chris asked, and JC blinked, then
turned to look more closely at Chris. There was... something in his tone, but
Chris just stared back at him, and JC shrugged it off. Probably just the
headache making him oversensitive.
"I'll be fine, Chris. Y'all can check on me when you get back, if you want."
"I will, Bass," Chris promised. "So no getting lost on the way, right?" JC
couldn't help smiling. Chris had a protective streak a mile long. He tried to
make it into a joke, but JC knew how serious it was to him.
He wasn't sure if it was one more round of beer or two after Lance left, but
finally the others were ready to leave, and then it only took twenty more
minutes to hunt down the waiter and pay the bill. At last they were out on the
sidewalk and headed to the hotel. Joey and Chris flanked Justin, linking arms
with him to keep him from tripping over the rough cobbles, and JC took up the
rear. It probably only took ten minutes longer than normal to walk the few
blocks.
By the time they made it up the stairs to their floor, all JC was dreaming
about was his bed. He was sharing with Lance, and Chris was with Joey, so he
was a little surprised when Chris came up behind him as he was unlocking his
door. JC turned and leaned against the wall for a second before he went in.
"I'm really tired, Chris," he whispered, glancing down the hall to make sure
nobody else would hear.
Chris just smiled. "I know, baby."
"Can we wait for my birthday present until tomorrow?" His head was really
throbbing now.
Chris smiled bigger. "If you want. But let me just come and tuck you in, okay?
Besides, I promised to check on Lance."
JC frowned a little. Lance was in there, maybe not even asleep yet. It wasn't
like they could do, well, anything while he was in the room. He didn't think
Chris was thinking things through very well. But Chris' eyes were so warm, and
he was still smiling up at JC, and JC was so tired that he didn't put up a fuss
when Chris opened the door and pushed him inside, one hand between JC's
shoulderblades.
Then for a second he blinked, and wondered whether he'd walked into the right
room. Instead of the harsh overhead light, the room was lit by candles glowing
on the nightstand and the dresser. They were just those little red cemetery
candles that he'd seen in the grocery store here, but still. Candles. JC looked
harder at Lance's bed to see if he was there, if he was sleeping with candles
burning, that couldn't be safe at all, and suddenly Chris' arms were around him
and his back was against the door.
"Happy birthday, C," Chris whispered, before leaning up and kissing JC, open-
mouthed, his tongue sliding over JC's lips. It felt so good that JC almost
forgot for a second that Lance was asleep four feet away in the middle of a
fire hazard. Almost.
"Shhh." He tried to push Chris away a little, but Chris just moved down to kiss
his neck, lips and teeth and gentle suction. "Lance is sleeping," JC tried to
whisper rather than whimper.
A low hum and a rustle of bedclothes told him otherwise. JC looked over at
Lance's bed again, focusing harder this time, now that his eyes had adjusted to
the dim light of the candles. Lance was sitting up on the bed, wearing just his
boxers. Looking very awake. Watching them.
Watching them intently, JC realized, trying to push Chris away. With intent. He
hissed when Chris bit down gently, mouth warm and wet against his neck. "Chris-
-"
"Happy birthday," Chris whispered again, painting the words on his skin with
the tip of his tongue. "Didn't wrap your present too well, but I think it'll be
okay." He traced over JC's Adam's apple, then the hollow at the base of his
throat where his pulse hammered. JC whimpered. "Look at him, C." Another lick.
"He's ready. So ready."
JC looked, then shuddered involuntarily. "Chris, we. I--" Chris slid one hand
down JC's chest, cupped his cock through his jeans. Not hard yet, but
definitely interested. "He's--" He closed his eyes as Chris stroked and rubbed,
then startled when a mouth touched the other side of his neck. "Lance--God."
"Happy birthday, C." Warm mouth, hot, moist breath trickling over him, and JC
wondered if his knees were going to hold him up.
Lance. Lance was--he was young. He didn't, he couldn't--but God. JC knew he
needed to say something, to stop this, but somehow his brain wasn't working all
that great.
This couldn't be happening. Two hot, wet mouths against his neck, two warm
bodies pressing up against him in the humid darkness. JC leaned hard against
the door, hanging onto the doorknob with one hand, the other hand scrambling
for some purchase on the wall. A second later, somebody grabbed that hand and
pulled it down in front of him, and his fingers grazed something even hotter
than the lips against his neck. Hotter, and much harder, poking at his hand
through thin cotton.
JC turned his head, and there was Lance, right there looking at him, eyes
glowing luminous in the candlelight. "Okay?" His whisper was soft, but not
hesitant. JC could see the look on his face. Hunger. Oh, God, and then Lance
was kissing him, ohgod, and JC could hear Chris whispering "yeah, yeah" in his
other ear.
Chris. Chris was older. Chris took care of them. Chris thought this was okay?
JC felt himself sway a little, maybe toward Lance, maybe just giving in to
gravity.
Lance's hand was warm on his side, steadying him. "Oh, C, you're really not
feeling good, are you?" JC didn't know how to answer. Was he feeling good? His
head was still pounding, but now other things were starting to look more
important, too.
"Headache," Chris murmured, and Lance made a sympathetic noise.
"C'mon." Two sets of hands urged him forward; just a step or two was all it
took to get to the bed. "Lie down," Lance whispered, and JC thought he'd
probably do anything Lance told him to in that voice. "Let us make you feel
better, C."
It was so easy. Too easy. To let them stretch him out on the bed, not to object
when Lance smoothed fingers over his temples, soothing away the worst of the
ache, then moved lower to open the buttons of his shirt, his mouth following
the path mapped by his hands. Chris perched lower on the bed, rubbing JC's
feet, then working his way up ankles and calves, as far as he could reach under
JC's pant legs.
Chris apparently wasn't happy with limited access, though, because after a
moment he scraped his fingers back down JC's legs then smoothed them up again,
this time over his pants to his waistband. He groaned when Chris pressed firmly
over the erection pushing hard against his fly; the relief he got when the
pants were undone and spread open was almost palpable.
"Ooh, someone's been a dirty boy," Chris muttered, and JC bit his lip when warm
breath ghosted over his cock. "Lookit, Lance. We worked getting you wrapped up,
and he was going commando the whole time." More moist, warm air, and then Chris
licked, just the tip of his tongue, over his cockhead. JC growled softly; the
sound faded into a whimper when Lance laughed low and leaned in to kiss him.
Just a soft brush of his mouth over JC's, but oh, God--so good. JC turned a
little and Lance touched his face, pressed his mouth more firmly, tongue
licking at JC's lips, teasing at the seam between them. "Please," he whispered,
and opened.
Lance kissed very differently from Chris; not hesitant so much as just maybe
inexperienced, but deep and wet just the same, slicking his tongue around and
over JC's, a low, teasing rumble purring out of him. JC moaned into Lance's
mouth when wet heat slid the full length down his cock.
JC couldn't help it; Chris' mouth was more than he could handle and keep still.
He rocked his hips up, lifting one hand to tangle in Lance's hair. "You want
this?" he said--gasped, really. "You sure, he's, we're not--"
Lance silenced him with a growl and another kiss, cool fingertips trailing down
his throat, then feathering over his chest to his nipples. Light, soft brushes,
like butterfly kisses, and JC's skin ached with wanting more. Chris was taking
him deep, teasing him with his tongue, and JC was afraid Lance's mouth might
not be enough to muffle the sounds he was bound to be making.
JC's head was spinning by the time Lance licked his way out of the kiss,
leaning his head to rest on JC's cheek for a moment. "Want this," Lance
breathed, so low JC almost couldn't hear it. "Want you." Then, even softer,
"Want you both." Lance looked up, then, his eyes wide and dark, hope and desire
written so clearly JC's conscience couldn't even try to make them into anything
else.
"Shit," he breathed, letting his eyes slip closed for a moment, just to
process--well, all of it. Everything. So much swirling inside his head, words,
sounds, colors, real and not-real all at once. They planned this, he thought,
the two of them, together. All of this. And that somehow made it so much more
than just--whatever this was. He still wasn't sure.
"You goin' to sleep on us?" Lance, breath ghosting across JC's lips, his
fingers stroking JC's jaw. "Guess we'll just have to work on keeping you
awake." The warm slide of his mouth across JC's lips again, the taste of beer
as his tongue slipped inside, and JC moaned softly, Lance swallowing it down.
He moaned again when Chris' teeth scraped gently along the length of his dick,
up over the tip, a wet slick of his tongue following. "Lift up, C," Chris said
softly, and JC tilted his hips, almost by reflex, shivering when Chris slid his
pants down his legs, and then off. "Look at you," Chris murmured, his mouth
pressing wet heat into JC's skin as he worked his way back up, "all spread out
for us."
"Chris, I--"
"Shhh." A gentle nip to his belly, and JC arched up helplessly. Oh god, oh god.
"You like that, huh?"
JC nodded, not sure he'd be able to form words, even if his life depended on
it.
"You'll like this, too." Chris' hands were warm as they wrapped around his
hips. "Roll over on your belly, baby. And spread your legs nice and wide."
Oh, god. He knew what Chris was going to do, even before he'd gotten the words
out completely. This was. God. His brain burned at the thought, never mind the
heat shimmering and curling through him. JC shivered and shifted, helped out by
Chris and Lance. He felt Lance slip his shirt completely off him as he rolled.
"So pretty," Chris murmured, voice low and light. JC trembled when a single
finger slipped down between his cheeks to rest lightly against the tight muscle
there. "C'mere, Lance."
The bed shifted, and then there was silence, followed by a soft, slick, wet
sound, and JC twisted his head to see Chris kissing Lance, licking into his
mouth. In the dim, flickering light, Lance's hair gleamed, and JC watched his
body quiver when Chris stroked his free hand down Lance's chest, then back up
to curl around the back of his head. Lance moaned when Chris pulled away, and
JC saw him lick at his lips. He wondered what it was like, to taste two people
at once like that.
"Shift wider, C." Chris stroked his hands up the insides of JC's thighs,
fingernails scritching gently. JC wiggled and shifted his legs apart, and it
struck him then how wide open he was. How exposed. And Lance, standing there--
Heat crawled through him, but embarrassment or lust, he wasn't certain. A
combination of the two, probably, coiling hot and tight in his belly, pooling
in his groin. His cock throbbed hotly and he rubbed downward against the bed.
Chris chuckled and rubbed his finger against him again, pressing lightly. JC
whimpered. "Please--"
Chris made a soft, agreeing noise, and there was a lower, rougher one, and then
warm hands spread him even wider, and JC groaned when liquid heat stroked down
over him, lightly, teasingly, ghosting over his skin, leaving him wanting so
much more.
So much more. JC pressed up, helpless to hide what he wanted, even knowing
Lance was watching. He wished he'd drunk less at dinner, so he'd be better in
control of himself. Or drunk more, maybe. So he wouldn't be so aware of what he
must look like, the picture he must make. But Chris' tongue moved on him again,
still soft but maybe--maybe?--a little harder, or was that just his
imagination? JC put his face down into the pillow and tried not to moan.
With his eyes closed, he could pretend. Pretend it was just him and Chris,
nobody else in the world but the two of them. Chris, who'd have his mouth
somewhere on JC 24 hours a day if he could. JC'd never met anyone who was so.
Enthusiastic? Whatever. He was grateful for it, God yes he was, and Chris was
licking harder now, vertical strokes alternating with slow, teasing circles,
not inside JC yet but he knew it was only a matter of time, only a question of
holding out, not giving in to the urge to grind down on the mattress and let
the building tension find its release too soon.
Chris' hands were firm on him, holding him open, and when another hand touched
his hair, stroking, JC gasped, his face heating with the embarrassment he'd
managed to forget for a few moments. "Beautiful," Lance murmured, before JC
could say anything. Lance's fingers traced his cheekbone, urging his head to
one side, and then Lance's lips were against his again, heedless of the awkward
angle. "You're so sexy, JC." Lance's words were muffled by skin and bedding,
and JC wasn't sure he'd heard right when Lance whispered, "Will you let me? I
want to, so bad, and Chris said, it was okay if, if you..."
"Yes." The word was out before he was even really aware he'd spoken, his brain
taking a moment to catch up with everything else racing through him. Heat
chasing shame chasing need, and JC already knew which one would win out,
because God, Chris' tongue...and now Lance--wanted to. Wanting. "Yes," he said
again, "oh God, Lance, yes."
Lance smiled, leaning close to kiss him. A slick, wet kiss, his tongue licking
over JC's teeth, tasting him, his fingers tightly wrapped in JC's hair, pulling
his head back. "Thank you," he whispered into JC's mouth, a final lick across
his lips before pulling away again.
JC could feel the trail of Lance's fingers--over his shoulders, tracing along
his spine, brushing over the curve of his hip. And still, the slide of Chris'
tongue, teasing, flickering, not nearly enough. He rolled his hips, trying to
push back, needing more, but Chris' hands held him in place. "Wait," Chris
said, hot moist breath against JC's skin and okay, that was just torture,
because fuck, how could he just stop? JC groaned and shifted restlessly,
pressing himself into the bed, the friction against his dick feeling so, so
good. "Shameless boy," Chris murmured, and JC couldn't argue because he was, he
knew this, but c'mon--
"My turn," he heard Lance say, and the weight of Chris' hands on his hips was
gone for barely a moment, before another set took their place. Lance, JC
thought, and if Chris' hands had been warm, Lance's felt as if they'd scorch
his skin, shifting over the curve of his ass, spreading him open even wider.
He felt Chris and Lance shifting on the bed behind him, then there was another
breath across his skin, and oh. Oh, God. Lance's tongue, slick and hot and
somehow different, moving on him. Circling, tentative at first but getting
stronger fast, more confident.
"Yeah, that's it." Chris. "Just like that, Lance. Then, like, make your tongue
flat, and lick across him." Whispering, one hand against the small of his back,
the other--he didn't know, but he'd bet somewhere on Lance. The back of his
neck? Angling him right? Oh, fuck, both of them, back there, doing this to him
right now. "See how he jumps?"
Lance hummed against his skin, sounding satisfied, still licking, and JC jumped
again. Couldn't help it. "Fuck," JC whispered into the pillow, his voice shaky
with want.
The mouth was at his ear before he even felt Chris move. "Oh, yeah. You know
it, baby." JC twisted, turned his head for Chris' kiss, deep and hungry, tongue
and lips and teeth all at once. Then Chris drew back a little. Smiled. "It's
your birthday. You know you're gonna get everything you want."
JC groaned as Chris kissed him again, the sensations almost too much to bear,
Chris at his mouth, Lance behind him. He could feel Lance, feel strong hands
holding him open, the slickness of his tongue as he alternated between circles
and long licks, the slight stubble of Lance's chin against his ass--funny,
because you could hardly see it in daylight, but in the dark it prickled
against his skin.
And then Chris was gone, licking his way back down JC's spine, slow, murmuring
against his skin. Lance got more urgent as Chris came nearer, his tongue
pressing wet and mobile against the knot of muscle, and JC heard Chris'
whispered command at the very same moment Lance obeyed him--"inside."
The moan came from deep in his chest, almost a sob. So good. So good. He pushed
back, helpless to stop himself or even to try, and Lance didn't hesitate, just
gave him what he wanted, deep and wet, so sweet, so fucking sweet. "God," JC
choked, grabbing the pillow to shove in his mouth. Can't make noise, can't--oh
God, even more than usual, can't get caught.
"Yeah, baby." Chris again, close by, murmuring. Petting his hair, running soft
fingers over his cheek. "That's good. Someday, C. Next year. We'll go somewhere
for your birthday, somewhere private. You can make all the noise you want,
yeah?" JC nodded, teeth grinding on cotton and feathers as Lance's tongue
dipped inside him again. Privacy--that kind of privacy--was something he
couldn't even imagine, but it was a nice fantasy.
Not that he needed fantasies right now. Not hardly.
He didn't dare spit out the pillow, but he looked up at Chris, trying to get
his eyes to say what his mouth couldn't. Begging.
Chris just looked at him a moment, then nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Okay." He
bent closer, kissing JC's cheekbone. "I'm gonna take care of you, take good
care of you. Gonna make you come so hard." JC shuddered, the words hot on his
skin and under it. "And then," Chris murmured, "then we're gonna fuck you. If
you want. So be thinking about that, hmm?"
The words echoed in his ears so long JC thought his brain might have exploded,
but Chris just kissed him again, softly, and moved back down the bed, murmuring
to Lance for a moment before reaching under JC's hips to--oh, God, yes--wrap
his fingers around JC's aching cock.
The warmth of Chris' fingers on him, the feeling of skin on skin, finally--it
took all the self-control JC could muster not to rock himself forward once,
twice, and just come there and then. He was close, so close, the slick wet heat
of Lance's tongue against him, God--inside him...he didn't think he'd ever been
so turned on in his entire life.
When Chris' fingers tightened around his dick, stroking him slowly, he wanted
nothing more than to shout out, groan, anything--because, oh God, that felt so
fucking good--but he knew he had to be quiet. Had to. And somehow, knowing that
made it all so much hotter.
Somehow Chris seemed to know that too, seemed to sense it, because he murmured
softly, "Remember, baby, gotta be so, so quiet, okay? Can you do that?" JC
nodded, because oh yeah, he could. He really could--as long as Chris and Lance
kept doing just what they were doing. Chris, jerking him off with long, slow
strokes, and Lance's tongue, his incredible tongue--licking wet heat into him.
Over and over, and JC breathed through the ripples of warmth shimmering through
him, concentrating on making it last as long as he could. He wanted this to go
on forever, wrapped in a haze of heat, of moist breath, of pure pleasure. He
was sure his skin was glowing with it, burning from the inside out.
And then--oh God--Chris did something with his wrist, changed the angle
somehow, squeezed just a little tighter, just something--and JC's toes curled,
his whole body tensing, white-hot, electric. He vaguely heard someone say,
"c'mon, that's it, c'mon"--Chris? Lance?--he wasn't sure--and he was arching
helplessly, his belly pulsing, hips rocking forward, coming harder than he
could ever remember, thick wet heat spreading between his stomach and the bed.
The sheets were sticky under him and his body was still twitching long after
the thrusts stopped. He had to force himself to breathe, gasping for air.
"Fuck," he heard someone whisper, behind him, above him, and he didn't know how
he could even hear it over the blood still screaming through his veins. "So
fucking hot." And yes, it was Chris, he knew that now because--god, god--Lance
was still licking, long, wet strokes of his tongue, pushing in slowly, fucking
him deeper than before. If it ended right now it would be enough, it would.
But then he felt them shift, felt Chris pulling Lance up, away. "C'mere, Lance.
Come and look at him." Chris' hand went under JC's shoulder and rolled him over
on the little bed. The mess on his stomach was cool when the air hit it, and JC
felt himself blushing a little, looking up at both of them in the candlelight,
their hungry eyes shining back at him. Lance's mouth was still open, and he was
panting, fuck, his lips wet and red, and JC could almost feel that tongue in
him still, and it was all he could do not to spread his legs and beg.
"You guys," JC cleared his throat a little, "have too many clothes on."
"Good point," Chris said, and JC could see the grin on his face in the
flickering candlelight. "C'mon Bass, help me out here." He raised his arms, and
Lance took hold of the hem of his t-shirt, lifting it over Chris' head and
tossing it aside. Chris' pants were next to go, Lance helping as Chris shimmied
them down over his hips.
"Better," JC started to say, and then, oh God--Lance leaned in to cover Chris'
mouth with his own, and JC could hear the slick, wet sounds of the two of them
kissing, could see flashes of tongue, of full, red lips. Chris' fingers were
wrapped in Lance's hair, pulling his head back, and as JC watched, his other
hand trailed down Lance's chest, over his stomach, down to his crotch. He heard
Lance's soft moan as Chris' hand cupped and stroked Lance through the soft
material of his boxers, and heat flickered along his skin. "Fuck," he murmured
softly, and Chris pulled away from Lance's mouth to look over at him with dark,
dark eyes.
"He tastes like you," Chris said, licking his lips. "So hot, C, tasting you on
him like this." He turned back toward Lance, nuzzling his neck, Lance's head
tipping back, his body arching into the touch. "Want me to make him come for
you, baby? Want to lick him clean when I'm done?" JC could see his hand moving
in a slow, steady rhythm, jacking Lance through his shorts. "He's so turned on
right now, C--you have no idea. So hard, and his cock is so hot in my hand."
"Yeah," JC managed, because fuck, it was hard to get enough air into his lungs
to breathe suddenly, "Yeah, Chris. Make him come. I wanna see." He snaked a
hand down to one of his nipples, rubbing and pinching the nub of skin, feeling
it bud up under his touch, his belly tight and hot with arousal once again.
The sounds of the two of them kissing, and JC didn't know whether to watch
that--the slick slide of tongue against tongue, Lance's soft moans--or the
steady motion of Chris' hand working Lance's dick, the front of his boxers
already damp with pre-come. Lance was rocking into Chris' strokes, rolling his
hips, his body responding to every little touch.
It was hot, so hot, watching the two of them kneeling there together on the
bed, Chris working Lance's dick through his shorts with one hand, the other arm
looped around Lance's waist to support him. Kissing, with tongues and teeth
flashing in the candlelight. Lance held on to Chris' shoulders, pushing his
hips forward into Chris' hand, growling deep in his throat whenever Chris
pulled back for a second to look down at JC.
Watching them like this, all skin and sweat and shifting muscles, JC knew that
he'd wanted to see this before, that he'd looked at Lance and wondered what
he'd look like--sound like--when he was falling apart under someone's hands,
lips. Wondered without even realizing it. How had Chris known, when he hadn't
himself?
And then Lance was shuddering, shaking against Chris, his forehead tucked into
the curve of Chris' neck, and JC pushed himself up, sitting up so he could see
better when Lance started to come. God. Oh, God.
Lance groaned, low, as Chris' hand twisted over his boxers and a wet stain
started to spread. Chris caught Lance's mouth with his--to stop the sound, JC
knew--and his hand moved faster. And Lance, God. Quivering and jerking against
Chris, and JC knew just what it felt like, to be pulled as tight as a bowstring
and then released that way. Did he look like that when he came, too? That
wanton and out of control? That beautiful? Chris looked at him and smiled, like
he knew what JC was thinking. JC blushed.
And then Chris was lowering Lance to the bed, nudging JC over so there'd be
room to spread him out on his back, and JC was a little sorry about the wet
spot from earlier, but it didn't seem like Lance minded too much, boneless and
blissed-out as he was. "Here you go, baby," Chris whispered, still panting a
little. "Happy birthday to you. Clean him up good, now."
JC bit his lip and--fuck, how did Chris know?--tried to stop his hands from
trembling as he peeled Lance's boxers down. Lance's softening dick was nestled
against his hip, flushed and wet, his dark blond curls slick and messy, matted
to his skin with spunk and sweat. A quiet whimper drew his eyes away from
Lance's crotch and up to his face. Lance was staring at him, eyes big and dark.
"Can I?" JC whispered, and Lance just nodded.
He shifted a little, until he was kneeling between Lance's spread legs, feeling
the heat coming from him, smelling fresh sweat, and the musky scent of sex. And
God, the taste of him when JC slicked his tongue over Lance's belly--
saltbitter, heady, spreading thick over his tongue, filling him up, uncoiling
spirals of warmth through him. He licked long, wet strokes across the soft,
flushed skin of Lance's stomach, reached a hand up to cup his balls, then
licked along the length of his dick. Lance whimpered softly, rolled his hips a
little, his hands fluttering down to twine in JC's hair.
"Oh," he murmured, "oh, JC--"
"You taste good." JC traced his tongue around Lance's bellybutton, flicking it
inside, then licked a wet trail up to his nipples, sucking and biting gently as
he went. "So, so good. Here, let me show you." And he shifted again, until he
was kneeling above Lance, straddling his hips, then leaned down, licking at
Lance's mouth. "Open up," JC breathed against his lips, and Lance did, groaning
softly when JC slicked his tongue inside. Just knowing Lance was tasting
himself sent another surge of heat through JC, making his cock pulse and throb,
already half-hard again.
Long, wet, slick kisses, Lance arching up against him, groaning softly into his
mouth and God, that felt so fucking good. Feeling him writhing underneath, his
fingers tightly curled around JC's hips, pulling them together, so very close,
skin to skin.
"So fucking hot, man. The two of you. God." Chris, and JC felt the warmth of
his hands sliding over his back, tracing along the length of his spine,
slipping over his ass. Then Chris himself, pressed against his back, and JC
could feel how very hard he was. "Want you," Chris whispered in his ear,
nipping at the lobe with sharp little teeth, "want to fuck you, C."
JC shuddered at Chris' words, at the need in his voice, and felt Lance's body
echo the shiver beneath him. "Fuck, Chris, yeah. Fuck me." He pulled his knees
up higher along Lance's sides, arching his back, lifting his ass up against
Chris' dick. "Just do it. Please."
Under him, Lance's eyes dropped closed as he breathed "please, yes" against
JC's lips, then licked his way back into JC's mouth. His arms slid up from JC's
hips to his back, then up to his head to hold them together as they kissed. JC
was hardly aware of Chris' fingers sliding slickly into him from behind, but
his body responded, his thighs opening even wider as he straddled Lance, his
hips pushing back on Chris' hand. Wide open.
And then the fingers were gone, and there was pressure, and weight, and fuck,
fuck, Chris was pushing in from behind and Lance's fingers were twisting in
JC's hair just like their tongues were twisting in his mouth, and JC's dick was
trapped tight against Lance's hip while Chris leaned up and in and bit JC on
the back of the neck. JC almost screamed into Lance's mouth, remembering just
in time quiet, quiet and turned it into a sound that he didn't think he'd ever
made before. But then, he'd never felt anything like this before, either.
Chris moved inside him, snaking in by degrees, and JC could hear him, feel him
whispering against his shoulder, his voice almost breaking with the strain,
"oh, C, oh, fuck, so hot, you have no idea, kiss him for me, kiss him now," and
it wasn't like JC had to be told twice, he was already kissing Lance and he
wasn't about to stop now. But would it be greedy to want a little more? He
turned his head to the side a little and opened his mouth wider and Chris,
fuck, Chris was there too, and it was awkward as hell but Chris' tongue touched
his, touched Lance's and JC felt Lance move one hand up to tangle his fingers
in Chris' hair, and that was all it took.
He was coming, again, coming with painful jerks and half-thrusts against
Lance's belly, where he hadn't even finished licking him clean, and Chris was
swearing under his breath and fucking for real now and there was no more
kissing, just holding on tight to Lance while Chris plowed him hard.
"Fuck," Chris was gasping into his ear, "fuck, fuck, fuck," over and over, hot
breath ghosting along his skin, his fingers curled bruisetight round JC's hips.
And then he felt Chris' body tense against his, felt him still for just a
moment, before he groaned long and low, a sound JC knew in his soul. Chris
shuddered and rocked against him, in him, whispering nonsense words into JC's
skin, pressing sloppy, wet kisses over his back.
"You still breathing?" JC asked softly, when he could find his voice again, his
forehead resting against the flushed skin of Lance's neck, his heart still
racing in his chest, letting his eyes slip closed while he tried to gather the
strength to move. He could happily stay here forever, he thought, Lance warm
underneath him, Chris draped hot over his back.
"Yeah," Lance breathed, "yeah, I am. Just." He was grinning when JC lifted his
head and opened his eyes again. JC grinned back, and kissed his way along
Lance's jaw to his lips. Softer kisses this time, slow, tender, unhurried. God,
I could get used to this, he thought, and a shiver of anticipation raced
through him.
JC felt Chris shifting off his back, slowly, gently, then stretching out beside
him, propped up on one elbow, reaching across to pull him closer. There was
hardly room for the three of them on the bed, but somehow, they all fitted,
pressed close together, skin to skin. JC didn't mind at all--he couldn't think
of anyplace he'd rather be.
He turned his head a little, enough for Chris' mouth to cover his own, his
tongue slipping inside, tasting him, sucking gently on his bottom lip. JC felt
Chris' lips curve into a smile, and then he pulled away, just a little,
watching JC closely. "So," Chris whispered, one hand warm against JC's jaw, the
other stroking through his hair, "you know how I said I wanted a new Discman
for my birthday?"
                                    ~ fin ~
 
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
