The Chasez Method

It didn't take long. It never did. JC found a hot chick and moved in for the kill as soon as she gave him the high sign, tilting her head and sighing up at him with that cute, dopey expression they all got, hypnotized by the Chasez. It would've been inspirational if Chris didn't know what was coming next.

Sure enough, JC opened his mouth right away and tried to swallow her down, and after a few seconds of desperate grappling, she managed to push him away and wipe her face with her fingers.

"What the fuck was that?" she snarled, and stalked off, tossing her hair.

Maybe that wasn't exactly what she said. Lip reading, not one of Chris's many skills. But judging by her speed in pushing through the crowd and the look on JC's face, it was a pretty safe bet.

The Chasez Method in all its glory. Pathetic.

Chris caught JC's eye and held up his glass in salute, grinning as JC saluted him back with one finger. There was only one thing to be done. A true sacrifice, but in the interest of saving the women of the world from JC's spitty fishface, Chris would have to take him under his wing.

Unsurprisingly, however, JC failed to grasp the logic of Chris's plan.

"Not even a chance."

Chris shrugged and kept on pouring. "Fine with me, fishface. Just try to keep it on the downlow from now on, okay? I almost lost my lunch."

JC grabbed the cocktail as soon as Chris tipped the bottle up, and took it to sprawl out on one of the platforms in Chris's swanky suite. "I do all right. Fuck you. Kissing's just the appetizer, anyway."

"Yeah, well, no dinner for you if you slobber your soup, know what I'm saying?"

"Fuck you," JC said again, but weakly. Chris knew he was in. Even Chasez could not dispute the recent lack of tail. He certainly whined about it often enough.

"Well?"

"Okay, whatever," JC said, frowning.

"That's the spirit!"

Chris settled onto the platform next to JC, aiming the remote to dim the lights and bump the music up a notch. JC eyed him suspiciously and clutched his glass to his chest. "Jesus, relax. Fucking virgins."

"I'm not --"

"JC," Chris said with great patience, "I'm not doing this because I want to. This is PR, okay? You make us all look bad."

"Oh, well then," JC said sourly. "As long as you promise to hate it."

"No problem."

Still, he had to wrestle the glass out of JC's hand to get the plan underway, and JC lunged in for one last gulp before giving it up. It was understandable, really. JC was about to learn a difficult lesson, so Chris could hardly begrudge him a last drop of fortifying booze. He took a sip himself before setting the glass on the bedside table.

"Okay?"

"Okay. Hit me."

"All righty, then."

He leaned in as slowly as he could. JC watched him come. When he was there, right there, with JC's breath on his face and JC's eyes still open, Chris murmured, "Your eyes are gonna stay like that if you keep 'em crossed long enough."

JC closed his eyes and opened his mouth.

"No, see, that's what I'm ta --"

JC kissed him.

Caught him in the middle of a word, actually, with his mouth wide open, and didn't that just figure? But JC's lips were soft and he tasted good, like gin and orange and something else, and his tongue slithered into Chris's mouth right away, along with a breathy, surprised-sounding hum. Son of a bitch, it was hot. Fucking Chasez. That was totally one of Chris's kinks, the moan in the back of the throat.

Fine. So be it. It was on.

He slid his mouth along JC's, over and over until JC made the noise again, then pulled away.

"Not bad," Chris said, trying to sound completely objective and removed. JC licked his lips, and after a few seconds he opened his eyes. They were a little glassy. Score.

"Really?"

Chris shrugged. "I've had worse."

"Oh, thanks," JC said. "Are we through now?"

"Have you learned your lesson, young man?"

"Ew." JC scrunched up his face.

"Sorry. But... one more, I think."

"Fine," JC sighed, as though doing him a huge but inconvenient favor.

"Try not to drown me this time," Chris said, leaning in again.

As kisses went, this one was definitely not too wet. In fact, it was kind of infuriating, this kiss, because JC hardly opened up at all, not even when Chris exhaled into his mouth, a secret weapon that had never failed him before.

Then JC started playing dirty, experimenting with his teeth, just the softest pressure on Chris's bottom lip. "Oh, no you don't," Chris tried to say, but fucking Chasez wouldn't let him up, and actually slid a hand around to hold his head in place.

Cheating was clearly indicated. All's fair, something something. JC was moaning again -- fucker -- and scratching his fingers through the hair at the base of Chris's skull. JC was licking and biting, but he wouldn't let Chris in. Absolutely unacceptable.

So Chris clamped a hand on JC's ass and pulled their bodies together.

The humming cut off abruptly. JC froze. Score.

"Ha," Chris whispered. "That's your dick, right? I totally win."

"No, actually," JC said finally, "I think it's yours." He writhed and pushed, and Chris gasped and pushed back and said, "Fuck!" before he could stop himself. JC was right, he was ready to go. More than ready -- he was going.

"JC --"

"What."

"Oh -- nothing."

"Chris." JC sounded pissed. What the fuck. JC's eyes were narrowed and he was frowning again, fucking hot but a little scary, and Chris thought about his chances for getting out alive. This was no game, it was, it was... war.

"What?"

"Don't you think you should take my clothes off now?"

"Oh," Chris said. "Oh. Well, if you insist."

He was suddenly all thumbs, fumbling at buttons and zippers and cursing. Mr. Smooth tried to snicker at him, all, "Easy there, Trigger," but Chris got even by spreading as much skin over JC as possible.

"Oh," JC said, closing his eyes.

"Yeah," Chris said. "How do you want it?"

"Fast," JC whispered.

"My thoughts exactly." Chris rubbed his cock along JC's belly until he made the noise again and lifted one knee. "Hold on."

"Chris," JC said.

"What?"

"Kiss me."

"Fuck, yeah," Chris said, and dove in.

When it was over, Chris flopped down on JC and sighed. "God, that was bad."

JC kissed him, and it was hot and wet and open and just right. "Mmm," he said, ending the kiss much too soon, "I'm sorry, Chris. Maybe I need some more practice?" He pushed his hips against Chris's, and Chris felt the delicious slide all up and down his body.

"Duh," Chris said. "Hey, seriously, fishface -- you don't suck at the kissing thing at all."

"I know," JC said, and smiled, batting his eyelashes until Chris had to poke him.

November 2006