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Justin/JC snippet #3
by Shine
JC clenches his fists, breathing raggedly in frustration. Then he lashes out, striking Justin's mouth and rocking him backward. Justin stares at him in disbelief, the momentum of the fight sudden vanished, one hand going to his mouth. A trickle of blood runs down his cheek, and he wipes it away absently, still staring at JC. JC takes one step forward, and then another, and then they're in each other's arms, and Justin is grabbing JC's hips and yanking him closer, and JC is licking Justin's swollen, sore mouth, savoring the strangled moan when his tongue rasps bruised flesh.
When they hit the mattress, it's with a bone-shaking thump, but neither of them care, even when the jar causes JC to bite down on Justin's tongue. Justin whimpers, and JC's pushing a hand down the front of his pants, skin on his knuckles abraded by tight denim as he goes. Justin's trying to get more of the touch but JC's not *that* light, and he bears down and Justin's pinned, immobile. He's mewling, like it's the hottest thing he's ever felt, and JC agrees. Justin's eyes are shut, and when JC touches his cock he moans, and he's quivering all over.
JC grinds down on Justin's hip, doesn't even try to jerk Justin off--just rubs what he can, drags his fingertips past hot silky skin, no pattern and no rhythm but Justin's sobbing and sweating and hot, desperate, begging, and JC feels something convulse in his gut, and comes. Justin drives himself up against JC's hand and follows, and then they're quiet for a long time, JC still draped heavily over Justin with his hand slowly cramping inside Justin's pants. Justin takes a deep breath, and another, and starts to shift. JC pries himself free of Justin's clothing, tries to get off, move away, but Justin catches his arm.
"Stay," he says, and JC looks back, down to where Justin's eyes are half-lidded and relaxed and content. "Stay," he says again, and JC hesitates, then lays back down. Justin puts his head on JC's shoulder and JC brings the hand that was jerking Justin off up, pets him gingerly. Justin doesn't seem to mind that his hand is smeared with come; instead, he turns his head and captures JC's sticky fingers, suckles them slowly, and when he releases them his body is limp and his eyes are dark and staring directly at JC.
JC thinks he's forgotten to breathe.
Justin goes to sleep like that, on the hard floor, one thigh thrown over JC's legs, fisting JC's shirt. It's a special shirt, one of JC's favorites, and it's in danger of being torn by Justin's lack of care. JC lays awake for a time, looking at Justin's big hand, prominent knuckles, the way it fit on his chest, over his heart.
He doesn't care about the shirt, he thinks. Justin smells good, firm muscle and sweat, and JC goes to sleep with his hand pressed into the softness of Justin's velvety buzzed hair.
Fin
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