Waiting For The Way
by Shine

It was late, the streetlights casting dim weird shadows against the ceiling of the hotel room. A siren floated up, and Justin closed his eyes, imagined it as a ribbon of light in his head. The scent of alcohol was making him thirsty and he fumbled for his drink, not opening his eyes. The bitter-tang of vodka stung his tongue, and burned a pathway down his body to settle tense and hot in his stomach.

He hadn't felt this nervous in a very long time.

A noise in the hallway made him freeze, the quiet far-off chime of the elevator bringing up gooseflesh. He wondered abruptly if he should have put on something different, something…sexy, something other than just a tank and his favorite basketball shorts, soft comforting cotton flannel. He fiddled with the hem, and thought of slinky tops, tight shiny pants, leather boots. His bare skin looked too pale in the blurred light.

But it was too late to change now, and the footsteps in the hall were slowing, coming to a stop outside his door. He shuddered once, felt his dick twitch nervously, and the lock clicked as it was keyed open.

JC stepped into the room, and squinted for him. "Justin?" He looked good, fresh from the club, sweat frosty and slick on his forehead, his mesh shirt hinting at curves of muscle, a shadowy nipple. It hung transparent around his sides, and Justin could see through it to the wall behind.

He wanted to push it back, high on JC's shoulders, and trace the lines of his chest down, to where it wove and blended with the smooth black leather clinging to his hips and legs. He wanted it so much his hands shook.

Justin swallowed, and clenched one hand into a fist, white-knuckled at the small of his back, trying for calm. "Hey," he said softly, seeing JC turn around. "Um." He tried to go on, and stopped, brain dissolving in static. All the things he'd planned to say, explainations sophisticated and eloquent enough that JC wouldn't argue, wouldn't say no. He didn't want JC to say no.

But the words had dried up, and he honestly couldn't remember a thing.

He waited for JC to start asking questions, dizzy and hypersensitive. The air-conditioning came on with a loud rattlehiss, blowing cold air across his skin, and he jumped. It was impossibly loud, a dull roar that grated on his nerves, and he couldn't hear himself move, or breathe, or think. He saw JC shiver slightly, and lick his lips absently, face unreadable.

Justin quivered, blinked hard, pushed back the dizziness of tension and determination. He imagined JC's mouth on his skin, shadowy and full, and felt his dick twitch again. Arousal and adrenaline pulsed through him, and the tips of his fingers ached.

JC wasn't saying anything, was leaning back against the door, staring at him, eyes shaded and unknown. He looked relaxed and unruffled, unaffected by gloom or the late hour or the fact that Justin, frozen and speechless, was standing by the bed staring directly at him.

Then he started to move.

Justin squeaked; he couldn't help it. JC was moving like he was in a club, or on stage-confident, tightly controlled, arms and legs and sleek torso flowing and perfectly in harmony. His shoes didn't make any sound on the carpeting, and Justin forced himself not to draw back, not to hide, because dammit, wasn't that was this whole thing was about? He gritted his teeth, met JC's cool blue eyes, and stayed where he was.

JC stopped inches away from him.

Justin bit his lip and gathered his courage and reached out, and the keycard in JC's hand fluttered to the floor by his foot as Justin moved forward, sliding scared and slow into JC's space, JC's touch. He leaned against the warmth, swaying with the force of his heartbeat, feeling his skin prickle, JC standing utterly still beneath him, arms at his sides.

For a long minute, Justin thought he'd made the worst mistake in the history of man. His eyes burned, he felt hot and flushed, and he felt himself start to shake, unable to pull back. He turned his face into JC's shirt, braced against the lean strength of his body, and hung on for dear life.

It wasn't supposed to go this way, he thought with sudden bruised clarity.

Beneath his cheek, JC's heart pounded slow and sure and calm. The mesh shirt was cool and silky under his face, and the leather warm against his legs. And when JC's arms slowly came up around him, held him warm and hard, and he thought, maybe this was exactly the way it was supposed to go.

Fin