You're late for a meeting, something that you usually abhor in others. It doesn't feel annoying at all when it's you that's holding things up. Chris is rolling his eyes at you, and you want to lick him, want to hold him down and fuck him until you win. It's not that simple.

You like the anticipation better than anything else. Everyone else seems to fall for sweetness and kind words, or in Joey's case, big tits. You, however, can entertain yourself for weeks, maybe even months, with machiavellian plots. Complexity is important in your plans, and there's something about the wide eyed astonishment that greets the success of your tiny gradual steps. It tastes heady, much as you imagine he might.

"Lance honey, you ready to go yet?" And you look at JC, just a little tired, as your mind spins with the nuances of what you want.

You think that it would be simpler to want JC. He's soft and sweet and genuine. You could make him apologize for any slights, and his forehead would furrow in those bewildered creases, while he searched for words to appease you. He's not strong enough for you, no matter how tight his ass is or whether he likes to snuggle and be snuggled. You like that, really you do, but it's not enough. You'd overwrite him and then you'd be sorry.

"You're fucking kidding yourself if you think he's not ready. He's always ready. Lance lives for these meetings." Chris drips sarcasm, nothing new there. What's new is the smile you bestow upon him. You think of it like that, gifting him with your attention, and it makes you feel like laughing because it's dumb.

The laughter must have made you sparkle more than you usually do, or maybe it's the tight t-shirt and ripped jeans. Whatever it is, he stops and looks at you, really looks, and you feel like kissing him. You don't. It's much more satisfying to smile at him again and turn away.

"Haul ass then, if I'm so in love with meetings."

You figure all good things come to those who wait. You're hard, but you'll wait for him to figure it out.

The meeting runs long but thankfully it's just Johnny, so it's couches and the soft carpeted floor not the long shiny mahogany table and uncomfortable sleek chairs that characterize the bigwig meetings. You sit next to Joey, calculatingly, watching Chris watch you and stumble when Justin asks him a question.

Fifteen minutes before you figure the meeting will be over, you call a break and go to the bathroom. Washing your hands afterward, you meet your eyes in the reflection and smile, pleased with the guilelessness you project.

When you walk back in, Joey's sprawled out over where you were sitting and you shake your head at him, secretly pleased. You flop down on the floor next to Chris, leaning in and pillowing your head on his stomach. When the muscles under your head jerk with his sharp intake of breath, you smile to yourself and try to listen to Johnny.

Chris smacks at you, trying to roll you off, but you're bigger than he is, bulkier and you've made yourself limp. When he finally gives up, even his fingers combing through the hair at the nape of your neck feel grudging. When he relaxes, you shiver because the brushes are soft and more gentle than you would think.

When the meeting ends, your whole body seems to be suffused with a delicious languor, all concentrated in couple inches where Chris is still petting. Johnny's finished talking about the upcoming tour, and everyone's looking at you.

"He likes it, oh yes he does, the magic fingers have calmed this here raging lion. Our contracts are safe for another meeting."

You notice absently that Chris sounds breathless and hoarse and you roll onto your stomach and grin at him, eyes heavy lidded with the remnants of your contentment and then lean up and nip at his earlobe. "Your magic fingers are very talented indeed."

Johnny's watching openmouthed, and everyone else is snickering, but you just sit up, pulling your knees to your chin and smile widely, innocently.

Later, when everyone's in Joey's hotel room watching bad soft core porn on the hotel cable, you're sprawled out on the bed. Justin's talking to Brit and JC's huddled in the corner writing something that's making him beam at the paper, tongue dabbing at one corner of his mouth while his foot taps out a weird statacco beat on the floor. Joey and Chris are sitting on the floor, drinking and idly pointing out flaws in the movie.

You think that it seems too quiet, and the movie bores you until you stare at it long enough that the body parts become nothing more than flesh toned smears of color on the screen. The quiet's shattered when Chris looks at his watch and jumps to his feet, screeching about room service and how long it's been.

You drop your voice down low and say "Calm your jets, speed racer. Maybe they don't know that they've got some supah stars here." You mean to incense him, because he's fun when he takes his version of revenge.

His face twists in something that might be laughter or maybe just rage, and that intrigues you, and you think that you're a sick fuck. Any thoughts present are jarred out of your head when he jumps on you, demanding " Admit it! You're the bigger super star, southern freak."

He's heavy on your back, so you flip over. You dislodge him which seems like a wonderful idea but then he's all over you, tickling and making crazy comments. You're laughing and bucking upward, and when he's writhing on you, you're ready to admit anything that he wants.

There's a knock on the door and "Room Service" is called out and Chris stops tickling, looking interestedly toward the door. He does this, you know, it's phase two of his repertoire, but he smells good and his breath is hot on your arm. His hand is still rubbing absentmindedly at your side, while he waits for JC to snag the trays.

You're hard again, and he feels it when he rolls off you. You know he noticed because his body stiffens just a little and he looks at you. There're no questions in his eyes, only consideration and maybe a little surprise. You don't look away and neither does he, until Justin howls with outrage over the mess they've made of his order.

Chris seems uneasy around you and you like it like that, not even caring that your right hand is becoming your current best friend. You brush against him when you can, pepper group interactions with double entendres but keep your eyes downcast. You can see him getting confused, and it's fun. You think it's probably going to happen soon, because Chris seems like he's ready to snap, and he's not really one for playing games. Until then you'll enjoy the sweet sticky tension that hangs in the air.

You've got a feeling he's going to say something tonight. JC has announced that he wants to club, and he wants that so rarely that he demands that everyone go out with him. You're looking forward to it, especially when you pick out your favourite pair of leather pants and a soft tight shirt that looks like it was made for you.

The club is dim, but Chris shines brightly before you. He's on tonight, all sharp biting wit, eyes dark and hooded while he sips his drink. You're getting drunk on gin and tonics, glad that the bar stocks your favourite brand. If you tip well enough, the guy will give you as many limes as you want and your drink tastes like citrus.

When the world starts to blur and the strobe lights look like stars, Chris announces that he's going to dance, and so are you. You start to shake your head, because you just know that your legs will feel shaky once you stand up. The look in his eyes says otherwise, and you feel like maybe it's all been leading up to this.

When you're on the floor, the alcohol seems like a help, not a hindrance. You're moving fluidly, gracefully and Chris is watching while a tiny brunette tries to entice him by rubbing up against him. One of his hands is rubbing the small of her back, but you can feel the pressure, the light touch of his fingertips skating over your shoulder blades.

When the song ends, he gestures back toward the VIP lounge. You lead the way, barely hearing him say "Never thought you were a fucking tease, Bass."

You head toward the bathrooms, where there's a stretch of darkness. Chris follows you, and when you're safely tucked away from everyone's eyes, you lean against the wall and stare at him. He leans in like he's ready to say something more but you've had enough.

Yanking him closer, you kiss him, running a hand over his shoulders. When he gets over the surprise and opens his mouth, you wedge a leg between his, pulling him up against you and licking at his mouth. He tastes sour, like beer and his tiny gasp of breath before his fingers curl around your biceps tastes sweet. You push him away and smile while you run a hand from his collarbone down the front of his pants.

"You didn't think I was a tease because I'm not." And you turn and walk slowly back to your table.

Chris is getting mad, you can tell, but you lean in and tell him "We'll talk about it later." And then you smile at JC, listening to his half coherent plans and sipping at your drink.

Chris is silent through the rest of your night, through the cab ride home and the trip up to your rooms on the elevator. When everyone says goodnight, he looks like maybe he wants to go to his room, but you smile at him and the anticipation pools in your stomach. He walks away from his room, calls goodnight to everyone else and follows you inside.

Chris looks like he's furious, like there's a hundred things he wants to say. He settles for "What the holy fuck is going on in your head." And then you're kissing him again, and there's no people staring at you, so it's perfectly fine when you slide a hand under his shirt, fingertips trailing along the top of his pants.

When you pull away, he looks like he's been waiting for this just as much as you have but he's still confused, like this is all just too strange. It pretty much is, but you say "Thought you didn't want me to be a tease?"

Chris smiles, slow and wicked and you're suddenly on the bed, flat on your back. "Y'got a point there." And he's licking at the side of your neck, nipping right where your shoulder meets your neck. "I think I like it better when I'm the one teasing."

It's a reversal, but your careful plans, all the smiles and touches and plots were aimed toward this, and you arch into him when he's on top of you, and you're rubbing against each other. He's just as hard as you are and you're groaning, when he pulls back and starts taking your clothes off, swearing while he rips his own away.

It's going faster than you thought, and there maybe should have been some talking involved, but he runs a hand along the side of your face while he kisses you and it feels unbearably sweet. You wonder when you turned into a girl, but when his hand curls around your cock, rough and perfect, you feel assured that you didn't.

You twist away, you want so much more than that. It's too soon, and you think that maybe later there will be time for more teasing, slow blowjobs and slower kisses. Right now, though, you've been wanting this for so long. And you look up to him and say "Fuck me?"

It comes out more of a plea than a question and Chris is laughing delightedly. Before you can be embarrassed, he says "And here I thought you'd never ask." There's lube over by the side of the bed, because you planned this, and he smiles at you.

It goes easier, smoother than you think it should, no awkwardness and not that much pain. When he's inside you, biting his lip and you're closing your eyes because if you watch his face you'll come sooner than you want, you wish you'd just asked for this as soon as you considered it. And then his hand's wrapped around your cock, and he's moving perfectly and there aren't really coherent thoughts anymore.

When you're lying side by side, he kisses your cheek and it's chaste and sweet. You laugh at him, and he smiles at you. It's not dark and wicked now, although you have hopes of that later, when you're recovered. You'll talk, you know, try to figure out what this is, and then maybe you'll slide down and take him in your mouth and take your time, in a way you don't think you could've before.

Slick with sweat and sated, you think that maybe anticipation is overrated and knowledge is even better.

~end~