But I'm always true to you, darlin', in my fashion,
Yes, I'm always true to you, darlin', in my way.
- Kiss Me Kate, Lyrics by Cole Porter
"I know you want me."
It was whispered in a low voice right into his ear, low and hot and full of promise, the second before he was supposed to go on stage. Lance felt a hand squeeze his ass, just as Justin slipped past him and ran out in front of the audience. Lance couldn't do anything but follow.
He completely missed his first cue.
Lance was doing sit-ups.
He hated sit-ups with a violent passion, and always had. He'd decided a while back that if the price you had to pay to have perfectly sculpted abs like Justin was endless sit ups, then he'd be just fine with his fit but unsculpted body. He hated them. They were boring and painful and just plain annoying.
Which was why Lance was doing sit-ups at 1 o'clock in the morning in the exercise room of the hotel. Because he needed something to take his mind off how horny he was, and the pain and agony of sit-ups seemed like a perfect choice.
Justin had been flirting with him for over a week now. No, flirting wasn't even the right word, it was nothing so mild as flirting. Justin had been full-out coming on to him for over a week. Little touches, whispered innuendoes, provocative looks. At first Lance had thought he was misinterpreting things, and kept looking over his shoulder to see who Justin was staring at with that scorching gaze. But then Justin had grown so blatant that there was no way to view what was going on as anything but a seduction.
The problem was that it was working.
Justin was hot. Justin was sexy. Justin knew how to turn on any red-blooded American -- or foreigner, for that matter -- within 100 feet of his smile, which meant that the effect he had at close range was nothing short of devastating.
So yes, Lance wanted Justin. And Justin knew that Lance wanted him. But Lance didn't want to want Justin, which was why he was doing sit-ups. Because it seemed a better way to get his mind off of it than sitting in his hotel room jerking off, which actually tended to get his mind right back where he didn't want it to go.
Just then the door opened, and a serious snag to Lance's 'stop thinking about Justin' plan appeared.
"Mmmmm, working up a sweat. Nice." Justin's voice was lazy, but his eyes weren't, as they swept up and down Lance's prone body hungrily. Lance noticed with something like despair that Justin was wearing the briefest, tightest pair of spandex shorts he'd ever seen, and a tight t-shirt that was cut off so high that there didn't seem to be much more to it than a collar and sleeves. Which showed off those perfect abs beautifully, by the way. How the hell had he made it through the halls of the hotel in that get up without getting mobbed?
"Justin. Um. Hi." Lance hoped he didn't sound as panicked as he felt. "I thought you usually worked out in the morning."
Justin shrugged. "True. Usually like to do other things at night. You can work up a sweat doing those, too." It should have sounded unbelievably cheesy, but the way Justin said it zapped a mental image straight to Lance's brain of Justin, naked, with a sheen of sweat all over his body.
Now Justin was walking over to him, and Lance fought the impulse to get up and run out of the room. When Justin's hand touched him and his heart rate skyrocketed, Lance thought maybe he should have gone with that impulse after all.
Justin casually lifted Lance's shirt, sweeping a hand over his bare stomach. "Feels good," he purred, as Lance shivered at the touch. "You feeling the burn?"
Something was definitely burning, but he didn't think it was his abs. Lance watched as Justin's smile grew smug, seeing the bulge in Lance's shorts get bigger. "Justin...." Lance said warningly, thinking that he probably would have sounded more forceful if his voice wasn't shaking.
Justin's hand slipped beneath his waistband, grabbing his cock in his hand. Lance's back arched off the bench, a sharp gasp slipping from his lips. "Yes?" Justin asked. "Was there something you... wanted?" His hand moved confidently up and down Lance's shaft, and Lance couldn't seem to form a single word.
Yeah, he wanted. Boy did he want.
Taking the silence for acquiescence, Justin straddled Lance's legs, pulling down his shorts and underwear in a smooth motion. Lance had a moment to consider the fact that he was now half-naked in a somewhat public place, and that anyone could just walk in on them, and that this was definitely a really bad idea, and then Justin's mouth closed over him. All of the reasons why this was a bad idea suddenly didn't seem quite so important.
Except for one. The same one that had been there all along.
"JC," Lance gasped, and Justin stopped.
He looked up at Lance, one hand still wrapped around Lance's cock. "No," he said, shaking his head. "Justin. Not JC." He took one of Lance's hands and put it on his head. "See? The hair is different."
Lance managed a weak laugh as he rubbed the stubble on Justin's scalp. "No. I mean. What about JC?"
The mention of Justin's boyfriend didn't seem to faze him in the least. "JC is upstairs doing something wildly exciting like scribbling in his notebook or sleeping. I'm here sucking your cock. Now, which one of us do you really want to think about right now?" Justin's hand moved on him again, collecting the moisture leaking from the tip of his cock and gliding up and down smoothly. Lance couldn't stop himself from thrusting into that tight hand, his eyes glued to Justin's mouth as Justin licked his lips provocatively.
"You want my mouth back on you, don't you Lance? You want me to lick you, and suck you, and make you come. I know you do." Justin leaned over, blowing a stream of cool air onto Lance's cock, making it jump in his hand. "Tell me, Lance. Tell me what you want."
Justin cradled Lance's balls in his other hand, a soft but firm pressure, and his tongue snaked out to lick just the tip of his cock, little light licks that Lance could barely feel. It wasn't enough. It wasn't nearly enough. He looked down and saw Justin's pink lips hovering just out of reach, his blue eyes staring at him with an intensity that seemed to burn, and Lance's control snapped.
"Please..." he moaned, hating how needy he sounded, but unable to do anything else. He pushed his hips up, trying to get back into that lush mouth, and he could feel the vibrations of Justin's laughter as he swallowed his cock. He didn't care. It felt too amazing.
Justin was as good at giving head as he was at everything else he set out to do, and Lance couldn't do anything but writhe helplessly beneath his sure hands and wicked tongue. He felt like he was on fire, about to be consumed by the heat coming off of Justin. It seemed both an instant and an eternity before he felt everything explode in a flash of light as he came for what felt like forever.
Justin kept sucking until the last of Lance's spasms subsided, then neatly tucked him back into his underwear and shorts. He licked his lips again and smiled at Lance, leaning down to give him a quick, deep kiss, letting Lance taste himself on his tongue. "I'll let you get back to your work out," Justin said, still in that silky voice. "Remember to try and stay at your optimum heart rate." Then he winked.
Lance lay on the bench, taking deep, shuddering breaths, long after Justin had gone.
JC was sitting in a chair, hunched over his notebook, when Justin came back to their hotel room.
"Hey," he said sleepily. "Have a good work out?"
"Nah, it's no fun when you're not there for me to ogle your gorgeous body." Justin winked at JC and planted a quick kiss on the top of his head. "You should get some sleep, you look beat. I'm gonna grab a quick shower."
When he came out of the bathroom JC was already in bed, curled up in a little ball. Justin slid in next to him, and JC turned toward him, looping his arms around Justin's neck. They kissed languidly.
"Mmmm, minty fresh," JC said, licking at the taste of Justin's toothpaste on his lips. He snuggled into Justin's shoulder, yawning. "Love you."
Justin rested his cheek on JC's soft hair, holding him close. "I know, babe. I know."
If Lance had thought that Justin might ease up now that he'd gotten what he wanted, he was in for quite a surprise. If anything, Justin's behavior was even more provocative and aggressive. Each time Justin managed to corner him alone, Lance knew that his resistance got more and more token. Everything Justin did felt so good. And really, what was the point of trying to say no now, when he'd already given in and done it? He couldn't take it back. Locking the barn door, and all that.
Which didn't mean he should go forward and keep doing it either, but he never managed to remind himself of that when Justin was touching him.
And every time he turned around, Justin seemed to be touching him.
Lance watched JC anxiously, sure that he'd suspect something, that some sixth sense would alert him that his lover was being unfaithful. But JC seemed as oblivious as always. He and Justin didn't seem to be acting estranged or uneasy with each other, in fact Lance thought that they looked as comfortable as ever.
So when Lance looked for a reason for Justin to be turning to him instead of JC -- because he really couldn't delude himself that it was because Justin just found him too irresistible to stay away from -- that was the only thing that seemed likely. JC and Justin had been together for a long time, seeing each other almost 24/7, and maybe the passion had cooled. They had become... comfortable. Which could be why Justin was looking elsewhere for excitement, he supposed.
And god, it was exciting. Justin was a master at pulling Lance aside at the most inopportune moments and driving him crazy without anyone being the wiser. Lance could barely walk past a janitor's closet without getting hard. Justin loved to shove him hard back against the door, and then drop to his knees and make Lance mindless with pleasure. The fact that he knew that his bandmates could be right on the other side of the door, and that he had to shove his first in his mouth to keep from screaming, just made it even more exciting.
Afterwards, Lance would know that he should have said no, should have resisted, should have remembered JC and his trusting eyes. But always afterwards.
Lance knew it was wrong. Really, he did. And he knew that they had to stop. And he really hated himself because... he just couldn't. Not yet.
It took a while for Lance to realize there was something strange about the whole situation -- he was the only one getting off. Justin was the one initiating things, the one in charge, but he was always the one sucking cock. Whenever Lance tried to reciprocate, Justin would just laugh and push Lance's hands away, telling him there wasn't time or they had to do it quick before they got caught, or just do something amazing with his tongue that made Lance forget everything up to and including his own name. It seemed churlish to complain when he was the one getting the mind-blowing orgasms, but Lance was starting to go nuts from wanting to touch Justin, to make Justin gasp in pleasure, to see what Justin's eyes would look like when he came.
One afternoon Lance was working on his laptop when he felt the bus start to slow down. He glanced out the window but didn't see a rest stop. He pulled his headphones off. "What's up?" he asked Joey, who was just clicking off his cell phone.
"Bus change," Joey said, standing up and stretching. "Chris challenged me to NBA Street, so I'm hopping over to their bus for a while. JC'll probably come over here."
Lance felt a moment of panic. How was he going to be alone with JC all afternoon and deal with his guilt? He could barely even look JC in the eyes these days, never mind sit and talk to him and pretend that everything was okay. What would they have to talk about? They certainly couldn't talk about the one thing they had most in common these days.
"It's just C, Lance. He won't bug you. He'll probably just curl up on the couch and go to sleep, and you can just keep on working." Joey had misinterpreted the look of dismay on Lance's face.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure I'll be fine," Lance said hurriedly. "I'm, uh, gonna get something from the back. Have a good time."
"Of course! Whooping Chris's ass is always a good time!"
Lance retreated back into the bunks, feeling like a coward. This was ridiculous. It was JC. He'd be fine.
He walked back out into the lounge area when he felt the bus start up again, then stopped dead. Justin was sprawled out on the big couch, looking at him with hooded eyes -- the way a hawk studied his prey.
"Justin!" Okay, that wasn't the brightest thing to say, of course it was Justin.
"Lance." Justin said it in smooth, honeyed tones. When Justin said his name, it sounded like a promise.
"What are you... I thought... We can't..." Lance was just babbling, not even able to finish a full sentence before moving on to the next thought. At the same time, he had kept walking, and was moving closer to the couch with every step.
"Lance." Justin pulled on his shirt, yanking him down next to him. "Shut up."
Lance shut up because Justin was kissing him, his tongue invading his mouth while his hands roamed freely over Lance's body. Justin knew just which buttons to press, he thought dimly, as Lance's clothes somehow magically disappeared under Justin's nimble fingers. He sometimes thought he could actually hear music when Justin touched him. Or maybe that was just the sound of his own moaning.
He reached out to unbutton Justin's shirt, and Justin grabbed his hands and started licking his fingers. Before Lance knew what was happening, Justin had pinned his hands above his head and was leaning over him. "Lay still," Justin sighed. "Let me touch you."
Lance started to protest, to insist that he wanted to be the one doing the touching this time, but like always, he lost his train of thought as soon as he felt the glide of Justin's fingers on his skin. This was the first time they had been able to afford the luxury of lingering, to not worry about someone bursting in at any second.
Justin seemed determined to devote every minute of the time they had to exploring Lance's body. He licked and tasted his way from the tips of his fingers to the soles of his feet, studiously avoiding the one area where Lance was aching the most until Lance was mindlessly writhing beneath him. Then and only then did he take Lance's cock in his mouth, swallowing him smoothly. He knew Lance's reactions now, knew how to bring him over the edge in a rush, or keep him teetering on the verge of orgasm until Lance thought he'd go crazy.
He made Lance wait, made him beg, and then made him wait some more. When Lance was finally allowed to come he was sobbing for release, and the force of it made him black out for a few seconds. When he could breathe again, Justin was kissing him, the taste familiar and a little bitter. Lance thought that now he'd be able to return the favor, to do something about the erection he could feel pressing into his hip... as soon as he could move. He just wanted to lay there a minute longer, with Justin softly stroking his hair and whispering low, dirty things into his ear.
The next thing he knew, he was opening his eyes to see Joey looking down at him. The bus wasn't moving. Lance blinked sleepily, realizing he'd fallen asleep. For a second he panicked, thinking he was still naked, but then discovered he was back in his clothes, with a blanket draped over him. Justin must have done that. Lance looked around for him.
"If you're looking for Justin, he's already in the hotel with C. He said he didn't want to wake you, you were sleeping so peacefully." Lance just nodded, pushing the blanket off and sitting up. Joey stood there another second, looking like he was trying to decide whether or not to say something.
"What is it, Joe?"
Joey shifted his weight back and forth, not quite able to meet Lance's gaze. "Just be careful, okay? That's all." He picked up his bag, "Now, c'mon, security is waiting."
He was off the bus before Lance could ask him what he meant. Then again, he wasn't sure he really wanted to know.
Justin and JC were curled up in the quiet room, kissing sweetly. Justin's hands were tangled in JC's hair, and JC's arms were wrapped around Justin's waist.
"Missed you today," JC whispered, licking a trail up Justin's neck. "Wasn't the same being on the bus without your arms around me."
"I'm sure you managed to sleep without me." Justin placed a light kiss on the tip of JC's nose.
"I'd rather sleep with you." JC sounded coy, and he fluttered his lashes at Justin in an exaggerated manner, making Justin laugh. They kissed again, tongues sliding over each other smoothly. "You and Lance have fun?"
"Oh, you know Lance. Always busy at that laptop of his. Then he fell asleep. It was almost like being with you." Justin's voice was very casual.
"Well, I hope not just like being with me," JC teased, eyes sparkling. "I wouldn't want to have to fight Lance for you."
Justin didn't say anything. "I'd win, of course," JC added. "Every time. Power of love, and all that." When Justin still didn't answer, JC kissed him again. "Love you."
"Me too, babe."
Lance, watching from the other side of the quiet room, averted his eyes guiltily, and discovered that Joey was staring at him. He looked down at the floor, wishing it was already time to go on stage.
Something changed after that day on the bus. Lance stopped fighting it, stopped beating himself up what kept happening with Justin. He wasn't the one in a relationship here. He wasn't the one responsible for Justin's fidelity to JC. The empty justifications didn't make him feel any more righteous, though.
He never asked Joey about his cryptic comment, just tried harder not to be obvious about what was going on with Justin. They were back to finding stolen moments and hidden corners, and Lance sometimes felt like he was following Justin around like a puppy, anxious for a pat on the head. Or, well, wherever. His one vague hope was that somehow he'd manage to get his fill, that this crazy obsession would just burn itself out and leave him sane again.
He wasn't holding his breath that it would happen any time soon, though.
He and Justin found themselves alone in a limo together one night after the show. "Wanna skip the club?" Justin asked, his hand high on Lance's thigh. "Go back to the hotel and... rest?"
Lance hated himself for nodding eagerly. He did it anyway.
Justin pulled out his cell phone and hit the first number in his auto-dial. "Hey, babe. Lance and I are going to go back. Get some rest. No, it's okay, you guys have fun. Stay out as late as you like. Yeah, babe. Me too." He folded the phone back up with a snap and dropped it in his pocket. "They're cool with it."
Justin didn't touch him again the whole way to the hotel. "Anticipation just makes it sweeter," he told Lance with a wink.
When they got to their floor, Lance stopped in front of his door, but Justin kept walking. "C'mon, our room is bigger," Justin said.
Lance hesitated. It seemed hypocritical to only worry about fooling around with JC's boyfriend in JC's bed, but still.... "I don't know," he said.
"Lance, c'mon." Justin moved closer, whispering in his ear. "Or do you want me to suck you off right here in the hallway? In front of all the security guards? I bet I could get you off in two minutes flat."
Lance swallowed hard, and followed Justin into his room without another word.
"I'll be out in a second. I'll make it worth your while if you're naked when I come out." Justin winked and disappeared into the bathroom.
Lance stripped quickly, neatly folding his clothes and then laying down on the bed. He was already half-hard. Justin had been right -- anticipation was a very sweet thing.
He was disappointed to see that Justin was still mostly dressed when he came out, his shirt hanging open over his pants. But maybe tonight would be the night that he got to strip off Justin's clothes, and kiss his smooth skin, and do all the things he'd been dreaming about.
Justin walked over to the bed, sitting down at the edge and trailing one finger down Lance's chest, from the hollow at the base of his throat down to his groin. Lance's back arched. Justin did it again, and this time his hand kept going, until it was wrapped around Lance's cock. Lance arched again, hips bucking, feeling the sweet pressure as he got fully erect in a rush.
There was hardly any warning -- just the snick-snick of the keycard in the lock, and then the door opened, and JC walked in.
Justin started at the interruption, then stood up, backing away from Lance, who gasped and futilely tried to cover his nakedness.
JC barely even glanced at Lance, walking straight to Justin. Lance held his breath, waiting for JC to yell, or cry, or haul off and hit one of them. JC continued to advance on Justin, and Justin backed up until he was standing with his legs against the second bed in the room.
And then JC wrapped Justin in his arms, bending him backwards onto the bed and kissing him deeply, his tongue taking ownership of Justin's mouth. JC ravaged him, their breathing harsh as Justin responded eagerly.
"Sorry it took me so long," JC said when they separated. "Traffic." And then they were kissing again, JC's hands roaming down Justin's body possessively. "Mine," he growled, nipping at Justin's neck.
Even from his side of the room Lance could see the naked adoration in Justin's gaze as he breathed, "Always."
And they were kissing again, so fervently and intimately that it almost hurt to watch.
Lance cleared his throat. He had absolutely no idea what was going on, or what he should do, but he was thinking that maybe he should remind them that they weren't alone. When nothing happened, Lance coughed again, more loudly.
JC finally raised his head from Justin's mouth. "Hey, Lance." His eyes swept over Lance's body. "Oooh, you're right, J. He is pretty when he's naked." His look lingered on Lance's groin. "I think he likes to watch."
Lance blushed, and then JC's words registered. "Wait... he told you... you knew?"
JC was busily stripping off Justin's shirt as he talked. "'Course. Justin and I don't have any secrets." He paused, fingers sliding over the fabric. "Did you really think that Justin would cheat on me?"
Well, yeah. He had been pretty sure that Justin was cheating on JC. Now he wasn't sure of anything.
"What... what the hell is going on?" Lance really wanted the words to come out harsh and angry, but they mostly just sounded confused. And frustrated. The latter not being helped by the fact that JC was still stripping off Justin's clothes, and that Lance still had a raging hard-on.
"Justin likes to touch." JC ran a finger down Justin's chest, an exact duplicate of the caress that Justin had used on Lance just a few minutes ago, and Lance suddenly knew where Justin had learned it. "And, well, you know all about his oral fixation." Lance flushed again, while JC lightly ran his fingers over Justin's lips. Justin opened his mouth and licked them, then sucked one eagerly. Lance couldn't take his eyes off Justin's mouth working JC's finger.
"But you know what Justin likes even more than touching other people?" JC asked in a low, sexy voice, taking his wet finger and rubbing against one of Justin's nipples, teasing it to a hard, tight bud. Lance shook his head mutely, though he had a feeling that he already knew the answer.
"JC touching me," Justin gasped out, and Lance still couldn't get over the way Justin was looking at JC. He'd watched the two of them together for years, and yet he'd never seen them looking at each other in public the way they were tonight. He wondered how much else about their relationship was completely different than he'd assumed.
Along with all the other things that were completely different than he'd assumed.
JC had stripped Justin down to his boxer briefs now, and he licked at Justin's throat while he palmed the hardness tenting the front of Justin's shorts. Justin's head fell back as he opened himself up to JC, completely submissive. Lance couldn't tear his eyes away. Not that he was trying all that hard. When JC finally removed the last bit of clothing covering Justin's body, Lance licked his lips involuntarily at the sight of Justin's hard cock, glossy and red, with a drop of moisture at the tip.
He had almost forgotten about his own erection, which had wilted when JC walked in but had revived nicely watching the two of them touch each other. Now he shifted uncomfortably, hard and throbbing, wanting to touch himself but not sure if he was supposed to. Not sure if he should even want to continue the weird, voyeuristic vibe. An upbringing in Southern manners had certainly not prepared him with the proper etiquette for this.
JC pulled back from Justin, ignoring the whimpers of protest, and started unbuttoning his own shirt. Justin's eyes were glued to the sight of those long, slim fingers as they moved down the line of buttons. JC didn't grind his hips or sashay around, but he disrobed in a slow, provocative strip tease. God, these two were hot, Lance thought, almost as captivated as Justin by the sight of it.
He wasn't prepared when JC turned and looked at him, then glided over to the bed. The look JC gave him was appraising, languid, nothing like the predatory stares he was used to receiving from Justin. But it made the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and his cock jumped when JC ran a smooth hand down his shoulder.
"Look at him," JC whispered, indicating Justin on the other bed, who was watching them through hooded eyes. Every inch of Justin's body was glistening with a fine sheen of sweat, and despite the rock hard erection nudging against his stomach, he made no move to touch it. He just watched them -- watched JC -- and waited.
"He wants it so bad," JC continued, hands stroking down Lance's chest, circling his nipples, teasing his belly button. JC's erection was pressing lightly against Lance's hip. "He's so hard it must hurt, don't you think? I wonder how long it will take to get him to come for me. He looks so ready, doesn't he? Like he was just born for sex." Lance just nodded mutely, using all of his control to stop himself from grabbing his cock with his hand and jerking off -- or grabbing JC's hand and begging him to do it for him.
"Want to see what Justin looks like when he's getting fucked?" It was barely audible, barely a breath of air across his ear, and yet Lance couldn't stop the full body shudder that followed the words. He shouldn't. He shouldn't want to. He shouldn't… but he did. He didn't really answer, he just moaned, but it was obvious what he meant.
JC looked like he'd never expected any other answer. "That's what I thought," he purred, as he left Lance to return to Justin. He sounded like a cat who had gotten the cream, Lance thought dimly, then realized just how appropriate that comparison was when JC leaned down to delicately lap at the pool of pre-come on Justin's stomach.
JC straightened and opened the nightstand drawer, pulling out a bottle of lube and a condom, then another bottle and a small towel. The latter items he tossed toward Lance. Lance's face flushed red, but not even embarrassment could turn him away now. Though he didn't think the lube would be necessary -- he was afraid he was going to come the second he touched himself, he was so hard -- but the towel would probably come in handy. He watched JC spread some lube on his fingers, then lightly stroke a glistening trail down Justin's cock, and Lance's cock twitched. Okay, the towel would definitely come in handy.
Justin raised his legs imploringly as JC teased at his opening, skimming around the tight bud of flesh without slipping in. Lance felt his own hips roll, unconsciously matching Justin's movements. He could almost feel it, that teasing finger. But he could also imagine how it must feel for JC, Justin's hot, tight flesh, wanting, needing. It was like dual sensation, slamming into him. He was alone on the bed, and yet somehow he was the one about to do the fucking, and also the one about to be fucked.
The look on Justin's face when JC finally slid in one finger was ecstatic, and when JC waited almost no time before adding a second finger, it turned to pure bliss. JC was whispering things that Lance couldn't quite hear, and he wondered if they were sweet and tender, or low and dirty. It didn't matter. The visual was more than enough.
His cock throbbed harder, and he shifted. He wanted to feel that, wanted the slow, deep penetration tht was making Justin arch and moan. He played nervously with the lube, teeth worrying his bottom lip. He could… if he wanted… but that seemed almost too depraved, finger fucking himself while watching his best friends fuck each other. It was too much, he couldn't possibly….
Then JC added a third finger, and Justin cried out, his spine twisting off the bed as JC hit the perfect spot. Lance leaned back against the pillows and lifted his legs, hardly even aware that he'd opened the lube and poured some on his fingers until he felt the fingers at his opening. His eyes closed for a second as he twisted two inside himself, scissoring and rubbing. Yes… right… there. When he opened his eyes he found that JC was watching him, and then JC changed his motion, matching the rhythm of Lance's fingers with the hand inside Justin's body.
When JC smoothed on a condom and pressed forward against Justin, Lance grabbed his own cock, squeezing hard to keep from coming. He wanted… needed… to make it last. Couldn't let it be over too soon. He began moving his fist as JC slid inside, still squeezing hard, imagining the tight, hot press of Justin's ass as it was first penetrated. His fingers slid in deep, imagining how Justin felt as JC entered him.
JC arranged Justin's legs over his shoulder, those beautiful, flexible bodies twisting together like they were dancing, dancing to an old, primitive rhythm. Lance matched them, the hand on his cock and the hand inside him, licking his lips as he watched them kiss, long and hard, their tongues slipping into each other the way their bodies did. JC kept his strokes long and smooth, making Justin shudder and tremble beneath him.
Lance wasn't even sure how long it lasted, this long sensuous haze of pleasure as he touched himself and watched them move together, whispering things to each other too low for him to hear. It was hot and dirty, but also so deep and consuming that Lance wondered briefly why Justin would ever want anything else, when this was waiting for him all the time.
Justin rocked against JC impatiently, a loud moan breaking the relative quiet of the room, his eyes looking needy and desperate. JC kissed him soothingly, then wrapped a hand around his cock and pumped harder, directing every stroke with sure precision. On the other bed Lance jabbed his fingers deeper, and pumped his other hand faster, unable to stop the moans that echoed from his own lips.
They moved together, the three of them in unison for just a few seconds more, and then Justin's hips snapped up one last time, and he cried out JC's name, loud and desperate. JC's thrusts sped up for an instant, and then he threw his head back and stiffened, every muscle frozen hard as marble. Lance wanted to watch them, to see how beautiful they were at this moment, but his body took over and he came, long, hard spurts that seemed to go on forever.
When he could breathe again he opened his eyes, and saw the two of them still pressed together, eyes locked as they gently caressed each other. Now Lance felt like an intruder, like he was somewhere he didn't belong. This was somehow a more intimate moment.
He wiped himself off with the towel, growing more uncomfortable by the second. Was he supposed to leave without saying anything? Thank them? Ask them if they were all supposed to do this again sometimes?
JC took the problem out of his hands, giving Justin one last kiss then rising off of him to strip the condom off unselfconsciously. He tied it and tossed it in the garbage, then walked into the bathroom where Lance could hear the water running. When he came back out he had damp cloths, one of which he gave to Lance before turning back to Justin.
He cleaned himself off as quickly as he could, keeping his eyes averted from the couple on the other bed, who seemed oblivious to his presence anyway. His mind was reeling, trying to comprehend everything that had happened. Trying to understand why he'd liked it so much, when he felt like he shouldn't have gotten caught up in this crazy game in the first place, let alone enjoyed it.
"Be right back," JC said against Justin's lips, once Lance was dressed and ready to go. Lance was surprised when JC came over to walk him to the hotel room door, still naked. Lance looked over his shoulder, mouthing a barely audible "Bye" to Justin. He understood now that the point of Justin's whole seduction had been to bring him to this room, to this night. He knew there would be no more secret rendezvous with Justin.
"Any time you want to come back, you know where to find us," JC said quietly, just before the door shut with a soft click. Lance stared at the closed door for a moment, and then he stumbled down the hall to his own room. He wanted to shower, and he wanted to sleep. And he didn't want to think. Maybe not ever.
He wasn't prepared to see someone when he walked into his room, and he jumped back, startled. Joey was on the bed, watching television, his head propped up on his arms. He jumped up when he saw Lance come in.
"Hey," he said casually, as if it was common occurrence for him to hide out in Lance's hotel room. "When you guys didn't show, and then JC took off, I figured it was all going down tonight. Thought you might need someone to talk to."
It took a second for Lance's brain to process the words, and then he gaped at Joey in shock. "You know. They told you?" For a second he imagined all of them plotting this, laughing at him behind his back.
"No, no, no," Joey said all in a rush, coming forward to grab Lance's arms. "They didn't say anything, Lance. No one did. No one knows anything. I just… well. I saw the signs. And. Well." He looked away, and cleared his throat. "I remember. What it was like. And I thought… you just might be. A little… blown away."
At that moment, Lance understood. He wasn't the first. "You… they…. You and Justin?" He tried to imagine it, Justin kneeling in front of Joey, running his hands up his hard, broad thighs, a curly head bobbing over Joey's lush body.
Joey smiled, but there was something in his eyes, something almost haunted. Lance had a feeling they mirrored his own. "No. Not me and Justin."
"Did you... do you... ever go back?" Lance wanted to forget about JC's invitation, about the promise that any time he wanted, he could be part of that again. He wanted to tell himself that it was done, that he'd never get involved in their twisted little games again. But he wasn't sure if he quite believed it.
"No," Joey said softly. "I haven't. But sometimes... I want to." Lance understood. He understood all too well.
There wasn't much else to say. After Joey left, Lance climbed into bed and stared up at the ceiling. He didn't sleep for a very long time.
It had been a long, grueling rehearsal, and it was only half over. Chris leaned against the mirror, panting, trying to get up enough energy to open the water bottle so he could take a drink. He was too old for this. His knees were definitely too old for this.
He felt someone come up behind him and take the bottle out of his hand and hold it against the back of his neck, and a shiver ran through his body. He leaned into the touch, almost purring as a soft hand stroked through his wet, sweaty hair, then opened the bottle and handed it back to him.
He tilted his head back and swallowed down the cold, clear water, and the hand stroked lazily down his back. He jumped slightly when it squeezed his ass firmly before stepping away.
"Looking good, Kirkpatrick," a voice whispered in his ear, low and teasing.
Chris looked up into the mirror and watched the reflection of JC's back as he walked away.
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Author's Note: Doesn't everyone get bunnies that involve naked sparkly dance boys and kinky sex in the middle of Kiss Me Kate on Broadway? Well, maybe just me! Thanks to everyone who listened to me bitch aobut this, and especially Kristen, Scotty, Joie and Amy for beta assistance.