All Day Long

 

 

by silveryscrape

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chris makes his way toward the back of the bus, carefully balancing the sub, two apples, a can of coke, some twinkies and a bag of chips. He’s having a little trouble; the apples, being round, aren’t cooperating with the cylindrical twinkies and sub, and the soda is cold when he tries hugging it all to his chest without crushing the chips. He shifts his hold, cursing. An apple pops out from under an elbow and rolls across the floor. He lunges for it, trying not to toss everything on his way, and stops short.

 

JC is stretched out on the big couch, head on a pillow in Justin’s lap, watching him. He looks amused and sleepy and comfortable, tilting his head to let Justin scratch around his ears, practically purring like the big freaky cat the fans claim he is. Chris reaches slowly for the apple. JC rubs his face against the pillow as he twists to follow Chris’s movements, dislodging Justin’s fingers a bit, blinking drowsily as he holds Chris’s gaze.

 

It’s like that, is it. Chris deliberately breaks JC’s stare and climbs up on the other couch with his stash, making a little nest of food around him as he drags over the TV remote. He can feel JC’s eyes on him, still. He flicks on the tube.

 

“Put on the game,” Justin says, laying the magazine he’s holding in the non-scratching hand on JC’s face.

 

“Which game, doofus,” Chris says, speeding through the channels. JC makes a vaguely amused sound from beneath the magazine.

 

“Any game, man. Whatever. Something good.” Justin sounds sleepy, too. JC heaves himself out from under the magazine like a whale breaking the surface, flopping over on the couch until his feet are on the pillow in Justin’s lap. Justin swats him, then grabs a foot and starts rubbing. JC closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again he immediately focuses on Chris, smiling dreamily. Chris looks away.

 

A little while later Chris can feel the bus slowing down. Too soon for the hotel, so Chris glances out the window. Walmart. When they boarded this morning, Lance and Joey were arguing over music for the ride, so Chris guesses they’ve run out of compromises. He looks over at the other couch. Justin is sprawled out, head thrown back, mouth open, snoring. JC is curled up in a little ball, face pressed against his knees. Chris tosses the empty coke can at Justin.

 

“Guys. Walmart run. Yo.” As Justin yelps, convulsing on the couch like he’s fighting a rabid dog, JC slowly stretches and opens his eyes, inhaling deeply. Chris turns, at last, and heads to the front of the bus.

 

In Walmart he drifts up and down the aisles. Picking up cds and a few games in electronics, he can see Joey and Lance by the dvds, faced off, arms crossed. No way is he going near that one. The crafts section calls to him briefly, but he hasn’t really refined the plan for the glue gun yet and figures he can wait. Over in snacks he grabs a bag of Snickers Minis and three of Twizzlers, then thinks about it and adds a bag of Reeses Pieces. Finally, he finds himself poking around at the racks of men’s clothes. Where are all the cool t-shirts?

 

Looking around the store, Chris can see Justin and JC goofing off with a couple of the gaudiest women’s shirts he has ever seen. Oh, lord, no. Public is never a good idea for those two. As he stands there shaking his head sadly, JC holds a lacy little something up to himself and grins unerringly across two aisles at Chris. Chris rolls his eyes and goes to check out.

 

Back on the bus he dumps the Reeses Pieces on the counter in the little kitchen and rips the plastic from one of the cds with his teeth, taking the rest of the candy into the back to find his headphones. He is just settling in, about to pop the Best of Journey into the player, when he hears Justin and JC giggling their way up the bus steps. Suddenly, JC’s plaintive voice rises above Justin’s snorting.

 

“Oh, fuck me. I forgot the Reeses Pieces. Why can I never remember the Reeses Pieces?”

 

Chris clicks on the cd player.

 

After a few minutes Justin runs into the room, lurching a bit with the motion of the bus, holding the bag of Reeses Pieces away from JC, who skids in after him, pinching and poking. They end up in a struggling heap on the couch. Chris underhands the TV remote to Justin, who drops the bag to catch it. He sits back happily, babbling something Chris can’t hear over the music, while JC snatches the candy and nods at Chris. Chris pretends to adjust the volume on the player. When he looks up again, JC is still looking at him, slumped against Justin, holding and stroking the bag of Reeses Pieces to his chest. Chris senses his attention through the rest of the long afternoon.

 

That night they drop off their bags and stuff at the hotel and hit the clubs. Justin and JC want to dance. Lance and Joey head straight for the bar together in the first club the limo drops the group at, seemingly all friendly again. Justin and JC are already wiggling, halfway in the door to the place; Justin clutches JC’s jacket while JC bounces up and down on his toes, and soon they are lost in the crowd, bodyguards wading in after them.

 

Chris gets a cocktail and commences to chill. He makes random conversation with the partiers around him as he keeps an eye on the dance floor. Justin is gettin’ busy trying out a new move he’s come up with, managing somehow to look both spastic and completely fluid. JC on the other hand is just gone, head thrown back, eyes closed, hands in the air. He is sweating already, pushing his fingers through his hair and shaking his head, and as Chris watches he suddenly opens his eyes and swivels and locates Chris in the crowd, practically glowing with ecstasy as he pulses his body to the beat. Chris finds himself on his feet. He starts for the dance floor, but when JC’s smile narrows and he begins to look slightly predatory, Chris veers off, grabs Lonnie, and leaves.

 

Back at the hotel Chris turns on the shower before raiding the minibar. There are nowhere near enough of the little bottles to deal with how today’s turning out, but Chris carefully empties only two of them before climbing under the warm water.

 

Over the roar of the shower he hears the suite door open. His hands are shaking, running the soapy scrubbie thing over his body. Soon a dark shape appears in the bathroom doorway and he is embarrassed by his own gasp.

 

“Chris.”

 

“Yeah.” His voice is hoarse. He turns his face up into the spray, hoping for some balance. The dark shape performs some complicated motions behind the steamy shower door, then the door clicks open and Chris loses it, finally.

 

He grabs JC as soon as he steps into the shower, pushes him up against the tile with his body, sliding against him and holding his long arms down at his sides on the wall. JC hisses and writhes against him, struggling to get his hands free. He buries his face in Chris’s neck, moaning deep in his throat.

 

“God, JC. All day. All day, you... god.”

 

JC moans again, rubbing his cock against Chris’s abdomen. He feels so hard against Chris, and Chris realizes how turned on JC is by his ragged breathing and his open mouth. His nipples are hard swollen points against Chris’s chest and he’s trembling fiercely, nearly frantic.

 

Chris licks JC’s neck and bites down under his ear. JC jerks against him, making a helpless little sound. He closes his eyes and turns his head a little, gasping for breath, pushing against Chris slightly, just rubbing his cock on Chris and keening, and Chris knows what he wants.

 

He slides down JC’s body, detours along the way to bite and suck JC’s nipples and press his face into the trail of hair leading from his naval. He stays there for awhile, just inhaling JC and watching the water thread through the hair on his body, until JC murmurs something incoherent in protest and ripples against him. Chris bites him on the hip in response. Then he sucks JC’s cock into his mouth all at once and it’s on.

 

JC growls and thrusts hard and Chris grabs his ass for stability and because he loves to feel how JC tightens up when he’s pushing. It’s quick and nasty; JC pulls his hair, and when Chris slides fingers around to rub his hole, he begins raving. Chris can understand a few of the slurred words.

 

“Chris, you. Fuck. Fuck, yeah. Do that. Mmmm, yeah. Chris. Fuck.”

 

Sexy and so very JC, and throwing his head back as Chris pushes a finger a little way in, he cracks it into the tiled wall of the shower.

 

“Ow,” JC says wonderingly. Then he comes, convulsing into Chris’s mouth, laughing and groaning and clutching at Chris’s head.

 

Chris wants to laugh, too, but he’s too busy feeling JC fill him up, his cock impossibly thick and aggressive as he pulses into Chris’s throat. JC stays hard in his mouth for a long time. He makes a drawn out, contented, guttural sound as Chris continues to lick and suck at him, loving the taste and the feel, then he twitches a little and pushes Chris away, suddenly too sensitive for more.

 

Chris leans back and looks up at him through the falling water. He’s amazing, leaning against the shower wall with his eyes closed and his mouth open. Chris can’t stop himself from reaching down for his own cock. JC opens his eyes.

 

“No, not yet. I want... let’s go to bed. I want to watch you.”

 

Chris smiles a little at that. His predictable JC. He manages to rise without slipping and killing himself and pulls a boneless JC from the shower. JC wraps himself around Chris from behind, nuzzling his wet hair, making toweling them both off complicated, but Chris has fun doing it. JC helpfully dries off his cock until Chris slaps his hands away.

 

In bed JC happily arranges Chris on his back while Chris smirks at him. JC smiles back and lies beside him, resting his head on his bicep so he can see everything. He looks down along Chris’s body dreamily. He appears to be focusing on Chris’s cock, which is fantastic and hot but Chris cups his jaw to capture his attention. JC meets his eyes slowly, licking his lips. Chris is positive JC’s hard again, but he can’t look away from JC’s eyes and mouth; he leans in close, breathing deliberately, and JC’s eyes go wide and he opens his mouth and tries to kiss Chris with an approving noise. Chris pulls back. JC closes his eyes and huffs out a little sigh, hiding his face in the sheets in mock frustration.

 

Then he looks up at Chris again and they smile at each other and Chris settles back to concentrate with JC watching.

 

He starts by rubbing his lips. They feel swollen, tender, and he wishes he had let JC kiss him. He loves kissing JC, that clever tongue... he can hear JC saying “mmmm” beside him, so he bites his bottom lip and slides his hand along his neck, collaring himself briefly, and down over his chest. He brings his other hand up to help with his nipples. He’s one of those lucky guys, nipple play means an instantaneous zing down his body to his cock, and as he twists and pulls on them, his hips rise from the bed and his cock jumps on his abdomen. He hears himself groaning a little with each exhalation. JC says “Fuck, I want to bite you, I want to bite them,” and that’s so perfect, so good, that he finds himself spreading his legs and taking his cock and balls into his hands as the zing expands into electricity shimmering all over his body.

 

He strokes himself hard, curling his body on the bed a bit to squeeze his balls roughly with one hand. He tries to keep it mellow so JC’ll have a good show, but he’s been waiting too long. He can feel himself start to tighten up, thrusting into his rapidly moving fist, jerking faster and faster, groaning wildly at the edge. Vaguely he hears JC muttering “oh fuck yeah, do it” in that sex voice of his and suddenly he’s soaring, heaving on the bed and calling out for JC and spurting all over everything.

 

When his world stops spinning and his brain restarts, he realizes that JC is shaking violently next to him.

 

“Come here, baby,” he says, and moaning, JC pushes over on top of him, rubbing his cock on Chris’s slippery stomach. He is just as excited as the first time, if not more, holding himself above Chris, the muscles in his arms hard and trembling, looking down between them as he pumps against Chris’s body. Chris holds on as best he can and just lets JC go to it. It’s not long before JC’s tossing his head and gasping, jerking hard against Chris. He collapses on Chris abruptly, and Chris wraps his arms and legs around him and rocks him for a long time until he comes back. Finally, JC lets out a huge sigh and turns his head a little on Chris’s shoulder.

 

“Wow,” he says weakly.

 

Chris gets them both cleaned up while JC lays in the bed, a blindly grinning lump. When he climbs back in, he pulls JC against him.

 

“I love it when you get like that,” he says, sliding his hand up and down JC’s long, silky back.

 

“I know,” JC says, winding his fingers into Chris’s still-damp hair, burrowing into Chris as if settling in for a long winter’s nap. “I got you a t-shirt at Walmart.”

 

Chris grunts and closes his eyes to sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The end.

 

 

November 2003 

 



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