Language Arts

by >>Jae

Britney walked up to the elevator with him, swinging their clasped hands. She'd had champagne, not a lot but enough to make her forget her customary reserve around Chris. "Good night, baby," she said, and kissed Justin lightly.

As she left, Chris laughed sharply. "Come on, baby," he said, growling the last word. Justin followed Chris into the elevator. Chris leaned over and said "baby" again, low, and Justin knew he was going to make him pay for that word. Justin stood in the elevator, Chris' fingers on his hip, Britney's kiss on his lips, and shivered happily at his own decadence.

When the doors opened, Chris pushed him and Justin stumbled a little. The guard standing next to the elevator was new. He reached out to steady Justin, then dropped his hand and stared stolidly at the floor when he saw the look on Chris' face. "Bastard," Justin mumbled.

Chris slapped his ass and said, just loud enough for the guard to hear, "Shut up, you. I don't keep you around for talking."

Justin let Chris steer him into the room and sat down on the bed, pulling his shirt off. "Jesus, Chris," he laughed, "'I don't keep you around for talking?' You sound like bad porn."

"See, what I don't understand," Chris said, pushing Justin back onto the bed and crawling over him, "is why, if you heard me, you're still fucking talking."

Justin had braced himself for something hard and fast, just the right side of violence, something that would bring a vulpine smile to Chris' face when Justin winced and swore in the morning. Chris bit Justin's lower lip lightly, said "baby" into his mouth, nipped his jaw, and Justin knew with a slow thrill of delight that he had been right.

Chris sat back, straddling Justin's hips, and shifted. Justin gasped. "Do you like that, baby?" Chris said. Justin felt Chris' voice, high and thick and poisonous, writhing around his body like a living thing. Chris froze for a moment, then ground down, slow and hard. Justin groaned and reached for his own belt buckle. Chris slapped his hands away. "Okay, no," Chris said irritably. "Did you really think you'd get away with that? How long have we been doing this?"

"Long time," Justin panted.

"Yeah," Chris said, and trailed a finger up Justin's chest. "Long time." He fit his hand around the base of Justin's neck, and Justin tensed. Chris pressed down firmly, and Justin felt a thick delicious ache. He closed his eyes and tried to relax, tried not to fight it, savoring the familiar rush of lightheadedness. He was a singer, he shouldn't let Chris do this, he knew it was a bad idea. Chris pressed a little harder, tightened his hand. Justin didn't move. Chris dropped his head and said in Justin's ear, "You like this, don't you, baby?"

Justin breathed, "Yes," and threw his head back, baring his throat for Chris' teeth.

Chris lifted his hand and sat back. Justin coughed a little and took a few deep breaths, his eyes still closed. After a few minutes Chris still hadn't moved. Justin wondered if maybe he was supposed to start begging now, but usually begging wasn't a conscious choice. It was more of an organic thing.

He opened his eyes. Chris was studying him thoughtfully. Justin smiled a little, but Chris didn't respond.

Justin said, "So, um. Did you want me to -- ?"

Chris slipped down between Justin's knees and opened Justin's belt, tugged his pants off. Justin said, "Good, yeah," and watched as Chris stripped quickly. When Chris was naked, Justin rolled onto his stomach and spread his legs.

Justin heard Chris laugh shortly. There was a note in it Justin didn't recognize. He felt the mattress dip beneath him, and Chris said quietly, "Come up here." When Justin was next to him, Chris put a hand on his shoulder and kissed him, gently, with his mouth closed. When Justin licked at his lips, Chris opened them and let Justin kiss him. Justin rubbed up against him, and Chris pushed him away. "Roll over," he said, and Justin lay on his side. He felt Chris' tongue on the back of his neck.

Chris' fingers traced slowly over his lips, moved across his cheekbones, brushed lightly over his forehead. His tongue licked tiny circles on Justin's shoulder and the side of his neck. His hands and his mouth were all over Justin's body, just barely touching him but everywhere, everywhere, the curve of his calf, his eyelids, the tips of his fingers. Justin sighed and shook, feeling his breath flutter in his slightly sore throat. His skin was tingling. It felt brand new. Chris was mumbling into his back, lips moving constantly in words Justin couldn't understand until Justin felt tattooed by Chris' tongue, marked somewhere deep below the surface. The low hum of Chris' voice surrounded them, and Justin sank back into it. When he came, there were tears in his eyes. Justin blinked them away.

He rolled over to face Chris. Chris' eyes were dark and serious. He pulled Justin's head onto his chest. The even rhythm of Chris' breath sent shocky tremors through Justin's tender skin.

"I love you," Justin said. It didn't feel like enough.

"I know, J," Chris said.

"You don't ever have to say," Justin said. That felt like enough.

"I know, J," Chris said. Justin closed his eyes. He listened to Chris' heart beating. As he was drifting off to sleep, he heard Chris mutter, "Don't know the meaning of the word."

Justin pushed up, stung. "I do too," he said. His voice was hoarse. "I do." He felt Chris' hand cupping his head, easing him back down.

"I know, J," Chris said.