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Discoveries
by Shine
"JC?" Justin banged on JC's door, and fidgeted. There wasn't an answer, so he banged again. "JC, have you seen my aftershave?"
"He's gone to the store," Chris hollered from his own room, and there was a series of thumping noises. Justin cast a dubious look down the hall, where it currently sounded like Chris was engaged in hand-to-hand combat with his crappy Goodwill luggage. "What do you need aftershave for, anyway?" Chris stuck his head out into the hall. "You don't even shave, kid."
Justin glared at him. "I do, too!" Once a week. And that was mostly out of hope. "I need my aftershave, and I think JC packed it because he got all his bathroom stuff already and his aftershave's still there."
Chris rolled his eyes. "You use the same kind, right?"
"Yeah," Justin admitted grudgingly. The theory for his choice that JC liked the smell, obviously, so Justin's best bet was to go with a sure-fire winner. "But it's not my bottle." For one, Justin had been using his for two months and it was still only a quarter empty, not like the nearly-empty bottle sitting serenely next to the sink .
"So just use his," Chris said logically, and disappeared back into his room. Justin glared for a minute longer, and then turned back to JC's room. Use JC's aftershave. The aftershave that he poured into his hands, his big strong hands with their prominent knuckles and hair-dusted skin, the hands that rubbed the aftershave into his soft, smooth cheeks and tender throat. Justin sighed. Yeah, right. *That* was going to work.
Not.
Justin shifted awkwardly and stared at JC's door. If JC was at the store, that meant he could probably get away with going inside. JC-unlike Chris, who hated solitude, and kept his door open even when he slept-was fiercely protective of his privacy, and Justin rarely got invited inside. If he got caught, JC would be furious, and his mom would take JC's side. He didn't have any doubts about that; Lynn had told him more than once that the key to living together was respect for boundaries.
But it would only take a second; he'd just find his bottle, replace it with JC's, and he'd be gone well before JC got back. He darted back down the hall and into the bathroom. The bottle was exactly where he'd left it, and Justin grabbed it and headed back.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he'd pushed open the door and slipped inside.
He pulled the door shut behind him, and stood for a second, looking around. Mostly, JC stayed out in the living room, and only went to his room for peace and quiet, so Justin wasn't usually in here hanging out. He knew what it looked like, obviously, but he didn't know all the details, and it all felt a bit new and exciting. An illicit thrill raced down his backbone, and he wished he knew how much time he had before JC got back. He'd love to be able to snoop around a bit.
But he didn't, and JC might be back any minute. His two suitcases were on the bed, and his duffle was on the floor-all of them neatly zipped closed. Justin sighed. He had no idea where JC's toiletries kit might be. Nervously, he unzipped the first suitcase, and started peeling back layers of shirts and socks.
Nothing. Justin zipped it shut and opened the next one, which he thought optimistically was sure to be it. Pants, sweaters, more pants...Justin twitched at a sound from the hallway, and glanced over his shoulder. He didn't see anything, so he kept digging, more urgently now. He *really* didn't want to get caught. And if he did get caught, he at least wanted to have accomplished his mission.
Books. A floppy hat. A pair of sneakers. A pair of shorts Justin recognized as his dancing shorts. More pants. Something colorful and glossy, that rustled heavily when he tried to lift it up.
The unmistakable look of skin.
Unable to resist, Justin grabbed the corners and gingerly tugged it free. When it was finally loose, though, all he could do was stare.
It was porn.
Justin had seen porn before; his parents had porn, and he'd found it before they left Memphis the first time, even. Chris had some, under his bed, and every now and then Justin snuck in to look at it. Pretty girls with enormous hair and breasts and neatly-trimmed bushes and cowgirl costumes, handsome men with shaved chests and white smiles and big muscles, all kissing each other with lewd extended tongues and roaming hands, artistically draped over furniture. Justin knew, in some corner of his mind, that this was all very cheesy and not real, but it was still fascinating and weird and amazing and cool.
Chris had even caught him, once, and laughed so hard he had to hold the doorjamb for support, and then punched Justin's shoulder lightly and given him one of them magazines. Justin still had it, and looked at it most nights. He knew all the pictures by heart now, but he still felt a spark of excitement when he pulled it out from underneath his mattress, and opened it with reverent hands.
He wanted some more of his own, more than just that one tattered magazine, which by now was dog-eared and more than a bit sticky, but he was too young to buy and too chicken to shoplift. And Chris had kept quiet about that one time, but he'd probably spill the beans if Justin swiped any more. So Justin made do with his one precious magazine, already wrapped carefully in a plastic bag and shoved to the bottom of his suitcase.
He'd never known JC had any porn.
Especially not *this* kind of porn.
On the cover, two men were clutching each other, kissing fiercely. One was a dark, hairy man with a mustache, the other was skinny and pale but had good definition and a shock of red hair. The redhead's knee was between the other guy's, and Justin could see their cocks, both hard, pressed against each other.
He knew his eyes were huge, and he didn't care. He stared at the cover for a long time, and then slowly, hesitantly opened the pages.
The title of the magazine was "Horny Studs Save The Universe" and as Justin leafed through, it seemed to be a naked, X-rated version of Star Wars, sort of a live-action comic book. Only instead of Leia and Luke, it was Ted and Mike, and when Justin checked back on the cover, there was indeed an attempt at a star backdrop behind them. The writing was appalling, even Justin could see that, but he didn't care.
The pictures made up for it.
He sank to the floor, leaning against the bed and propping the magazine against his knees. He could feel himself blushing as he read more, and he didn't understand half of it-he figured out "schlong" from the context, but "poppers" made no sense whatsoever, and it took him ten minutes to figure out what "rimming" was. The pictures were the best part, though, and he stared at each one for a long time before reluctantly going to the next page.
He finished the entire magazine, and then leaned back against the bed, closing his eyes. He felt dizzy.
He'd had a crush on JC for so long, he couldn't remember when he hadn't felt it. Even his first day, when JC had been just another face in the crowd at the welcoming party for new cast members, he'd remembered JC's name alone out of all the other people. He'd followed JC around the set until it became a cast joke, and JC had never once told him to go away, even during the two weeks when JC and Nikki were going out, and JC was sneaking off to make out with her in a lighting closet and Justin was always sneaking off after him. Nikki had wanted to kill him, Justin remembered, but JC had just sighed and smiled, and told her "he's just a kid."
It took two years, but about the time MMC got cancelled, Justin had finally admitted that his dreams about JC, the ones where JC nipped his neck and cuddled next to him in bed, were not the dreams of a kid. Once he realized that, a lot of others stuff suddenly became clear to him. It scared him to death to think that he might actually want to be the one JC kissed in lighting closets, but as much as he wanted to deny it, the evidence was too powerful. And Justin was a pretty lousy liar, especially to himself.
As soon as Chris had called him about the group, Justin's fingers had itched to call JC. He never considered calling anyone else. When JC had agreed, Justin had felt something unfurl in his chest. Something like hope. Because he was fifteen, now, and this wasn't kid stuff anymore-this was a real group, a real career, and he wouldn't just be the youngest, the newest. He'd be an equal, one of five.
This was his chance.
He'd watched JC the entire time they were in Orlando, rehearsing songs and choreography nearly every day. He'd practiced as hard as he could to get good, to get better, in hopes that JC would be impressed; he'd put in more hours than any of them with Robin perfecting his solos and smoothing out his tenor range.
He'd worked out with JC, trying to get in shape, trying to match JC's sleek, defined muscles. He'd worn his favorite shirts, the ones that made girls at the mall whisper to their friends when he went past, and bought new ones that were soft and worn and just a little bit tight. He'd sat next to JC at dinner, and curled up on him watching TV, and played videogames with him until his thumbs cramped.
He'd watched JC as JC went through casual girlfriend after casual girlfriend, and never once saw any hint that JC liked any boys at all, much less him.
But JC had a gay porn magazine in his suitcase, with signs of wear and even a spot on page 14 that looked a bit tacky. JC had gay porn.
JC liked boys.
Justin squeezed his eyes tighter shut. In his head, arousal that he'd been trying to ignore since the first glimpse of skin was burning, sparks flaring crazily in the pit of his stomach. The thought that it might not be as hopeless as he'd figured before was making his heart beat faster, and he clutched the magazine with sweaty palms.
"What the fuck are you doing here?!" JC yelled, and Justin yelped and jumped a foot in the air. He whipped his head up, and JC was standing in the doorway, looking like he wanted to beat Justin to a pulp. Justin scrambled to his feet and thought nervously that he'd never in his life seen JC so mad.
"Sorry," he started, but JC cut him off.
"What's that?" he demanded furiously, and Justin slowly brought the magazine out from where he'd tried to hide it, pressed against the back of his thigh. He held it out to JC, the pages rustling faintly. His hand was shaking. His whole body was shaking, and he shrunk back as JC snatched the magazine, took one look at it, and turned white.
"What. What-you-Justin, you-fucker, you fucking bastard, this is-my room, why the fuck are you in here..." JC was stammering, and Justin didn't think it was JC's usual good-natured fumbling with words. It looked like JC was just too angry to even speak clearly. He wished he could get out, because from the way JC was standing, tense and on the balls of his feet, he thought he was about to get punched, but JC was between him and the door. He wanted to call for Chris, but he couldn't hear the sound of Chris's music, which probably meant he'd gone to work. Just the two of them in the house, then. No one to save him.
"I'm sorry," he said painfully, staring at JC's collarbone because he couldn't make himself meet JC's eyes, and JC shook his head.
"You're sorry," he repeated disbelievingly. "You-you come into my room, read *my* stuff, my--magazine, you invade my room and you're fucking *sorry*?"
"Yeah," Justin whispered.
There was a long, tense silence. Then JC leaned back against the door, and Justin heard the muted thump as he tipped his head back. "Jesus," JC whispered, and he sounded defeated. "Jesus, Justin."
"I'm sorry," Justin mumbled, miserably. He felt like he might cry. He hadn't known JC would be so upset, or that under the anger would be real fear. "I'm really sorry, JC." JC didn't say anything. "I just. I wanted my. Aftershave." He rubbed his nose and fumbled on the bed for the bottle of aftershave, almost completely forgotten until now. "I was gonna get mine back. This is yours." He thrust it at JC, who took it awkwardly, and stared at it like he'd never seen aftershave before. "I was just looking for your toiletries kit, honest."
"And you found this?" JC waved the magazine, starting to get his color back, and Justin nodded guiltily.
"I-It looked. It was. Good," he mumbled, so softly he wasn't sure JC could even hear him. "I liked it." He looked away, down at his feet, and waited for JC to figure out what he'd just said.
It only took a minute.
"Oh, fuck," JC breathed. Justin flinched, feeling raw.
He'd read about coming out, once he'd figured out that he had a thing for JC-and once he'd been honest with himself, and recognized that it wasn't just JC who was cute and masculine in the world. This, he decided, was the most horrible coming-out in the history of the entire world. He'd said he liked a gross gay porn magazine. JC was probably totally disgusted by him now, Justin thought wretchedly. He probably never wanted anything to do with him. A logical part of his head pointed out that JC *owned* a gay magazine, so he wasn't likely to take offence that Justin had liked it, but Justin wasn't listening to logic right now.
The silence drew out, endlessly, and Justin started to shake. He didn't understand why JC didn't say anything. It wasn't until a light touch on his shoulder made him start violently that he realized JC had been walking towards him, not away.
"Justin," JC said tentatively, and Justin looked up at him. JC looked upset, still, but not angry. Not anymore. "Justin, come on. It's okay."
"I'm fine," Justin protested, and realized that his nose was running. He rubbed at it, and his face was wet, and JC smiled hesitantly.
"Yeah, you're great," he said with weak humor. "Come on, let's-sit down, okay?" He tugged at Justin's arm, and Justin went with it, sank to the floor. JC sat beside him, and put his arm around Justin. After only a little resistance, Justin leaned towards him, and buried his face in JC's shoulder.
"I'm really, really sorry," he mumbled, and JC patted his back.
"It's okay. Don't worry about it," he said, and sighed. "I was just-surprised. And a little pissed you went through my stuff. But. Not mad, okay? Not anymore." Justin nodded blindly, and JC patted him some more. He seemed to be at a loss for words, and sometimes Justin forgot that JC was still pretty young himself. He was only barely twenty.
"Have you told anyone else?" JC added after a minute, and Justin shook his head. JC rubbed his arm. "I'm honored," he said, in a quiet voice, and Justin blinked back new tears. He was *not* going to be a baby about this. He just wasn't.
"I didn't know," Justin added, after almost five minutes of working up his courage, and it wasn't what he was going to say, but it came out anyway. "That you-you know. Too."
JC laughed weakly. "Oh man. I guess-it must have been a surprise, then." Justin huffed a small surprised laugh, and Justin felt JC's answering chuckle. "I thought it was pretty obvious on the Club, I never pretended or anything, but I've never really told anyone. You know." Justin did.
"I wish I'd known before," he mumbled, and that was closer to what he wanted to say, but still not it. JC hugged him tight.
"If I'd known, Justin, I would have told you," JC said, with no hesitation at all. "I wouldn't have made you do this alone."
Justin closed his eyes, hung on to JC, and whispered, "I want to kiss you." He felt himself blushing again, an agony of embarrassment almost worse than being caught with the magazine. JC's arm loosened slightly, then tightened again.
"Why?" JC asked carefully, and Justin was reminded of why JC was generally a good person to go to if you had a problem, when he wasn't thrown off-balance or angry. He tended to be really calm, and not get flustered, which was good, because Justin was flustered enough for the both of them.
Justin shrugged. "I just do," he said. He couldn't think of words to explain the years of longing, the dreams, the wistful watching. He regulated his breathing like he was singing-in, out. In, out. From the diaphragm. Steady, no rushing. JC was breathing the same way. Justin waited for JC to react, and JC took his time, staying very still except for his hand, stroking ceaselessly over Justin's shoulder.
"Have you ever, before?" JC sounded like nothing in the world could ever upset him, perfectly even and casual. Justin flushed anyway.
"No," he muttered, his blush sitting like an itch under his cheeks. "Um, not. Not with guys." He had with girls, of course; he'd gotten his first kiss at eleven, and he'd even gotten a handjob from a girl at a party back in Memphis, but nothing with guys. It was too new, too scary, and Justin couldn't think of anyone but JC who would be worth the risk of trying. Maybe JC understood that, because he didn't say anything, just nodded and looked away, palms warm and unwavering, grounding Justin.
Until JC slowly disentangled Justin from his hold, and Justin had just enough time for a panicked thought-he hates me-before JC was turned to him, eyes dark and clear, and his mouth came down.
Justin's brain stopped.
Justin whimpered, and twitched under JC's hands. JC's mouth was soft and wet and light, exquisitely gentle, with his tongue stroking Justin's lip and pressing with even, steady pressure at the closed seam of Justin's mouth. Justin's mind was blank, unable to think, but he opened his mouth in response to the request, and JC's tongue swept in. Not far, not hard, not fast-but slow, like the tide coming in, and Justin went from rigid to limp in JC's grip.
JC made an approving noise, and his mouth lifted just a bit. "Relax," he whispered, and Justin nodded, staring helplessly. JC smiled a bit. "It's okay," he added, and then his mouth was back and Justin met it eagerly.
"What are you doing?" Justin asked, the next time JC pulled back, and JC grinned. Justin frowned in confusion. JC was getting up, and Justin followed, stumbling a little, and watched JC pull suitcases off the bed and dump them unceremoniously on the floor. The door was shut, but JC crossed the floor and locked it. When he turned back, Justin met his eyes.
"What...?" he asked, and JC smiled slowly.
"Do you want to?" he asked simply, and stripped off his shirt in a single graceful movement.
"Oh my god," Justin said, staring. JC walked towards him, slowly but without hesitation, and his expression was light, not amused but not serious either. He looked, Justin decided, roughly the same as when he'd offered to teach Justin how to drive, back when Justin was only thirteen. Justin had spent an entire Saturday afternoon driving circles around the parking lot of the studio, with JC beside him saying things like "that's your turn signal" and "okay, now the clutch" and "turn off the windshield wipers".
Afterwards, they'd gone to McDonalds for shakes, and JC had grinned at him happily and as an afterthought warned him not to tell. Justin never had. It had never happened again, but Justin had always sort of hoped it would. He'd really liked JC beside him, competent and relaxed and laughing, not flustered by his mistakes, teaching him stuff everyone else told Justin he was too young to know.
It suddenly struck Justin what was happening here, and he almost sat down on the bed at the shock of it. No, no, this was too fast, he thought blankly, and he'd always figured that the first time would have a huge build-up, with lots of time to anticipate and worry and prepare. Right now he was still shivering with the aftermath of crying, and his eyes felt red and itchy, and he wasn't ready. He wasn't even wearing a nice shirt, just a crappy one he could only wear because he wasn't packing it.
"Is this okay, Justin?" JC asked, and he was waiting patiently, looking like they had all the time in the world, like this was no more unusual than him taking Justin out one day in his Honda for lessons. Justin blinked, and then nodded, trying not to look too eager. He might be slow, he thought hopefully, but he wasn't *insane*.
JC taking off his shirt. JC kissing him. If it wasn't for the stiff feeling on his face where tears were drying, he'd think it was a dream.
"You really want to?" Justin asked after a minute, watching in fascination as JC toed off his shoes and put his hands at his waistband. He'd always thought there'd be a certain degree of reluctance in JC's response. It was why he'd never said anything-he didn't want to see JC's face when JC turned him down. For JC to be going along with this-hell, for him to be *starting* it-that was a hell of a lot more than Justin had ever expected. He wasn't entirely sure what to do with a JC that was pretty obviously willing to go along with his fantasies.
JC grinned. "Oh yeah. I'm sure." He reached Justin, and Justin didn't wait for JC to make the first move this time; he stepped forward and into JC's arms, tilting his head back and catching JC's mouth. JC moaned quietly, and Justin shivered happily at the sound.
"Have you seen yourself?" JC asked breathlessly, during a pause in the ebb and flow of the kiss, and Justin blinked in confusion. JC ran firm hands up Justin's arms and down his back, and Justin arched into the touch. "You're so pretty," JC muttered into his neck, licking a path from collarbone to jaw, and Justin shivered. "So pretty."
"You. Oh. You think so?" Justin managed, and JC chuckled.
"Justin, you're my friend," JC kissed the words into Justin's throat, and Justin shivered again. "You've been my friend for three years." Justin nodded, and JC drew back and looked at him. He was smiling, but his eyes were serious. "I like you, okay? I like you a lot. You're a good person. And I won't say the thought never crossed my mind." JC blushed a bit, but his eyes never wavered. "Okay? I want this."
Justin smiled back, slowly. "Cool."
JC laughed, and then his mouth was back on Justin's, and this time Justin opened for him immediately. "Trust me," JC whispered into the kiss.
"Okay," Justin said, and sucked hopefully at JC's lower lip. JC pressed down on his shoulders as Justin tried to get closer, and kissed him leisurely, teasing Justin with his tongue before slowly breaching his mouth with it, tracing lines of fire before withdrawing and nipping at Justin's lower lip. Justin shuddered, and pried his eyes open. He couldn't remember shutting them. He couldn't remember ever being this hard.
"You like it?" JC asked, and Justin nodded and leaned back in. He wanted more, so badly he thought he might scream if he couldn't get it. JC kissed him briefly, and Justin felt hands working up under his shirt. "Then let's get onto the bed," JC murmured into his ear, and Justin tipped his head back and brought his arms up and let JC peel the t-shirt off of him, firm palms sliding back down across shivering skin to finger his navel, then spread wide around his sides.
"Pretty," JC groaned, licking his earlobe, tugging Justin closer. Justin pushed his hips against JC's body and jerked helplessly at the feel. JC peeled him off, and Justin grumbled plaintively and tried to get back.
"Not yet," JC said, and nipped his throat. "Bed. Come on," and he steered Justin around, pushing lightly when Justin's knees bumped the side of the bed so that Justin sat down. JC was only wearing boxers now, standing tall and clean and beautiful by the side of the bed. Justin was only shirtless and felt almost painfully exposed, but it was a good pain, like the little clench in your stomach of eating something sweet when you hadn't had anything else to eat all day.
He sort of wished JC would take his boxers off. He'd seen JC's cock, but only a couple times, and only in passing, and never in a place where he had the ability to sit and stare at it. He remembered it was good-sized, and not obviously weird. He wondered how much JC had seen his cock, and if he'd liked what he saw. Justin wondered if he was supposed to be taking his pants off now, and touched the button hesitantly, watching JC's face.
JC was firmly in control, though, and shook his head, coming down onto the bed on his knees beside Justin and kissing him lightly before crawling past him and laying down on his back. Justin twisted around and stared at JC, all laid out and smiling at him, and then scrambled up, tangling his legs and letting JC urge him so that he was kneeling over JC, straddling his hips, and JC was hard and solid and *big* underneath the soft cotton of his boxers. Justin whimpered and tried not to grind down onto it. It proved to be impossible, especially when JC grinned and closed his eyes and arched up with a tiny sound.
Justin didn't even know he was coming until he doubled over, shuddering as his mind filled with white static and his body seemed to catch fire. JC caught him before he fell, gentled him through the last of the spasms, and let him curl up on JC's chest while he panted and trembled. "Hot," JC whispered, and kissed him, wherever he could reach; his back, his neck, his shoulder. "So fucking hot. You're so hot, baby. Justin. God."
Justin shifted, and felt JC's dick twitch against his hip. JC groaned, and started breathing harder. Justin stretched out and shifted again, this time deliberately, and JC grabbed him, pulled him up into a kiss and shuddered his cock harder against Justin's body. "JC?"
"What?" JC panted, and his breathing quickened. He was starting to thrust against Justin, smooth slippery movements that ground his cock against Justin's stomach.
"Do you. Um. Want to have sex?" Justin asked, and JC made a rough sound and closed his eyes, shaking.
"You want to?" JC asked instead of answering, and Justin nodded, kissing JC eagerly. He wasn't hard again, but it was coming, he could feel it. And JC was hard enough for the both of them, and his jeans were clammy and damp and gross, and he wanted it. He wanted it.
"Okay," JC said after a second, and Justin found himself tumbled over onto his back, JC's hands at his waist. "Let me," JC said roughly when Justin tried to take over, and Justin laid back and let him peel the soft, worn denim away. The boxers came down with the jeans, and JC followed the path of the fabric with his tongue, tracing a line down Justin's abs, over the curve of his hip, lightly over his cock and more heavily over his inner thighs.
Justin moaned and shifted his legs restlessly, pulling them apart as much as he could as JC yanked the bunched cloth past his feet and off, and then slid up, dropping kisses on his knees, his thighs, the groove of muscle at his groin. Justin whimpered, but JC didn't even look at him, just smiled privately and started to lick.
The movements of his tongue were broad and slow and sweet, and Justin yelped and tried to keep his hips from jumping and twitching. JC took his time, licking every last trace of damp off Justin's skin, and by the time he was finished Justin was heaving for breath and had his fingers knotted tightly in the bedspread. JC looked up, and his mouth was red and swollen, and Justin wanted to bite it, wanted to kiss him until JC came. JC's hips were moving slightly, ceaselessly, humping the bed and Justin watched their rhythm and wanted that. Badly.
When JC pulled his legs underneath him and kneeled up, reaching over Justin's body to fumble in his bedside table drawer, Justin caught his breath. He thought he'd never seen anything as hot as JC, sweaty and flushed and almost naked, muscles taut and gorgeous, hovering over him, eyes intent as he found a small bottle and a foil wrapper.
Justin caught his breath again when he recognized the wrapper, and JC gave him an unreadable look before handing it to Justin.
"Open it up," he said quietly, and Justin sat up and tore at the foil, finally getting purchase with his nails and ripping it open. He tossed the empty package onto the floor, and then tried to hand the circle of latex to JC, but JC shook his head.
"Put it on me?" he asked, and pushed down his boxers.
Justin stared. He tried not to, he really did. But he just couldn't help it.
JC was busy getting the cloth off of his legs, so he probably didn't notice, and Justin was glad. Because he just couldn't look away. Hard and red and a little shiny at the tip, thick dark hair at the base and covering neat, tight balls. Justin felt himself blush deep red, but when JC had finished untangling his underwear from his ankles, he bravely reached out.
"Hang on," JC said, and caught his hand, guiding it. "Like this," JC murmured, showing him the way to put it on, how to make it work. "All the way down," and he closed Justin's hand around his cock, the shaft caught between the V of thumb and index finger, tightened his grip, and slowly drew it down. Justin felt the condom unroll, and when he reached the bottom JC released him, and Justin threaded his fingers through the coarse hair, and then trailed them back up over JC's latex-covered dick. JC shuddered, and groped gracelessly for the bottle he'd dropped to one side.
"You're pretty good at this," JC said with breathless approval, one hand on Justin's stomach while the other opened the bottle flip-top, and Justin grinned and flopped back down. JC scooted a little closer and Justin opened his legs wider, feeling something tight and nervous high in his throat. This was it.
JC carefully drizzled lubricant over two of his fingers, and lowered them, shining brightly, between Justin's thighs. "This is going to feel a little weird," he warned, and Justin nodded tensely. JC paused, and smiled at him, and his free hand rubbed Justin's thigh. "Relax. It's okay. It's not going to hurt, not really. I promise."
"Okay," Justin said, and JC started moving again. He jumped at the first touch, slick and unfamiliar against the muscle, and JC made soothing noises and kept the contact light and unthreatening. Justin slowly relaxed, spreading a bit wider and settling into the bed. JC held his eyes, smiling faintly but his eyes were serious, warm and affectionate, and Justin looked back and only flinched a little bit when that first fingertip slipped inside.
JC stopped there, and Justin could see his cock twitching urgently, but JC looked like there was all the time in the world. Delicately he worked that one finger, twisting it and rubbing slowly at the sensitive rim, and when Justin relaxed more, sliding it with unhurried care deeper.
Justin watched JC's eyes like a lifeline, watched his pupils expand and eyelashes flutter. JC's finger felt huge, awkward, thick and knobby, but JC was right-it didn't hurt. Not really. And there was something about it that teased him, wisps of pleasure letting him know what could be, was going to be, not long from now. JC touched him for a long time with it, and it wasn't until Justin was squirming, slightly bored with just one and wanting more, than he slid that first finger out, added some more lube, and slipped the second finger in.
It was tight, and it almost hurt. JC stopped moving, and Justin concentrated on breathing deep and relaxing, without even being told. JC put his free hand on Justin's stomach. "Push up against this," he said, and Justin did, and suddenly everything relaxed and opened up. He gasped and stared wide-eyed at JC as JC's fingers slid home, JC's knuckles against his ass, and JC grinned down at him and scissored them gently.
Justin groaned, and then pushed his hips into JC's touch when JC stopped. "More," he stammered, and JC bent his head, his smile gone, and eyes fixed on where his fingers entered Justin's body. Justin had goosebumps, and JC's fingers were magical, and when JC pulled them out an eternity later Justin moaned a protest.
"Shhh," JC whispered, voice shaking, and Justin fumbled for his arm, trembling. He was so close.
"Put them back," he whimpered, and JC choked. "Please, put them back-"
"Oh god. Soon," JC said hoarsely, and Justin tried to focus on JC's hand, shaking as it poured lube from the bottle onto his cock. JC's cock looked alive, jerking and dark under the latex. "Just--hang on. Okay? Almost ready." He dropped the bottle and leaned forward, bracing himself on one arm planted next to Justin's ribs. Justin tried to still his hips, but it was hard.
JC's cock at his ass was a lot thicker than JC's fingers, and for a moment Justin was scared. He tensed up, and caught JC's forearm. "Oh..."
"Just. Relax," JC panted, "trust me. Trust me. Justin, please." His eyes were closed now, and JC was biting his lip in concentration. He looked like the need was almost painful, but he waited, and Justin blew out a deep breath and made himself relax.
The broad head slid in, and Justin mewled. JC made a high, choked sound, and pushed forward, and the shaft followed, brilliant friction setting off brushfires behind Justin's eyes. "Oh, oh," Justin whimpered, and JC stopped, pelvis flat against Justin's ass.
"It's okay, it's okay. It's done," JC whispered, and Justin rubbed his forearm, the muscles like stone under his hand. "Justin, I-I gotta move..."
"Okay," Justin managed, and JC started to rock, hips pumping smoothly, drawing the length of the shaft out and then pushing it back in. Justin made a hoarse sound when JC did that, and when he did it again, and again, until JC was fucking him, constantly, and Justin was moaning with every breath.
Justin couldn't really think, his mind was spinning and every nerve was on fire, and JC panted over him and groaned whenever Justin clenched down, so Justin did that a lot and found he liked it better as well. JC might not have been huge, but he was big enough, and Justin touched him wherever he could, let his hands roam desperately, skidding across skin slicked with sweat, crisp hair and hot muscle sliding under his hands as JC fucked him againagainagain.
Once, he managed to open his eyes-when had he closed them?-and saw JC's face, his eyes wide and fixed on Justin, incredulous and ecstatic, dripping with sweat. "God, you," JC breathed with every thrust. "Love you."
Justin writhed, needing more, and JC gave it to him, driving so deep Justin cried out and dug his heels into the backs of JC's thighs for more. Two, three deep shoves like that and JC shuddered violently, his arms giving way to drop him onto Justin's body. Justin held him close as JC's hips moved relentlessly, and JC moaned his pleasure out into Justin's neck. The change in angle, the friction, the feel of JC coming apart in his arms-it was too much for Justin to take. He spasmed, drowning in the pleasure, and when he came it was almost an afterthought to the sizzling currents racing across his nerves, electrifying him, taking away sight and sound and thought.
He came, and clutched JC when he did, and sobbed twice into JC's shoulder while JC petted him clumsily and kissed his chest, breathing harshly.
"You're amazing," JC managed, and Justin started to laugh. It was weak, but genuine, and JC rolled off Justin and onto his side, arms and legs draped over him like a hot sweaty blanket.
"I had a good teacher," Justin offered, and JC started giggling. Justin joined him. It seemed the thing to do, and Justin didn't comment on the fact that JC's laughter had a faint note of hysteria to it.
"I've wanted to do that," JC said when he calmed down, "for a very long time." There was an odd note in JC's voice, and Justin shifted until he could see JC's face. JC had his eyes closed. "Longer than I probably should have."
"How long?" Justin whispered, and then leaned forward and kissed JC's cheek. JC flinched and opened his eyes.
"About three years," JC admitted quietly, and Justin blinked.
"Really?"
"Yeah," JC said, and he looked nervous and guarded behind the exhaustion. Waiting, Justin realized, for Justin to freak out. Waiting for Justin to call him a freak, or a pervert. Or a rapist. JC was tense, and Justin rubbed his arm automatically, trying to calm him.
"Cool," Justin said, inching closer. He probably should freak out, he thought sleepily, but he was tired, and JC was warm, and his ass hurt in a way that made him very glad the flight wasn't for three days.
JC blinked. "What?"
Justin yawned. "How long do you think I wanted that, dumbass?"
JC blinked again. This time, when Justin kissed him, JC didn't flinch.
"You're okay?"
"'M okay," Justin mumbled, and he was trying to stay awake, really he was, but he was so tired. And he felt so good. He licked JC's jaw, because it required less coordination than a kiss. "Really good," he added. "Really."
JC breathed a quiet chuckle. "Well, okay then," he said, and moved a bit closer. Justin made a happy sound and felt himself drifting off. "I love you," he heard, faintly, on the edge of consciousness, and felt his heart expand just a little bit, weary and happy and warm.
"...too," he mumbled, and JC held him close as he fell asleep.
Fin
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