Lance liked to fuck JC. It was something about the way that he writhed on the bed or maybe the way JC always seemed to extend the invitation with downcast eyes, lashes shadowing his cheeks.

It didn't quite work if Lance felt like getting fucked, because JC never seemed to know what to do, and his usual grace was swallowed by an awkward sprawl and odd hesitance. But when JC flickered his eyes, and Lance laid him out on the bed, warming his skin with bites and kisses, it was like something out of a damp decadent dream.

It was one day, mostly unremarkable, that Lance realized exactly why he loved fucking JC. They were tangled on JC's sheets, taking advantage of a midafternoon break, quiet except for JC's whimpers as Lance slid in and out exquisitely slowly, watching the expression on JC's face.

He trailed his fingers down JC's sides, watching the muscles ripple under his skin, the way his nipples puckered when he brushed the pads of his thumbs across them. JC's giggling interrupted his reverie, his wiggling interrupting their rhythm as he tried to squirm away from Lance's tickling. Lance snapped out, "Hold still" before he even thought about it.

JC's eyes looked hazy and Lance was opening his mouth to apologize, when JC smiled, just a little, and slid toward him, stopping mid-giggle. Lance gathered up his wrists in one hand, startled as always by how delicate JC's bones were, and yanked them above his head, shifting his weight forward.

It was almost a shock when JC leaned into the stretch, eyes fluttering closed as he came almost instantly, never moving a muscle. When he opened his eyes and looked at Lance, the slow, lazy fuck was over almost immediately.

Lance thought that he should maybe apologize to JC when he saw the faint rings of bruises around his wrists. He hid them under a long sleeved t-shirt for their interview, but Lance saw him rubbing them while they ate their room service dinner that night.

Lance noticed that JC was quiet, his eyes dreamy as he picked at his food. He didn't know what to say, whether to apologize or ask questions, so he was quiet too, staring out the window while he absently ate his pasta. He thought of JC silent beneath him, of JC ducking his head and smiling when someone told him what to do, of the fact that JC always waited for suggestions before doing anything.

Lance was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't realize that Chris and Joey and Justin had moved to the bedroom where the game system was set up, leaving him twirling his pasta and thinking. JC shocked him out of his dreaming when he knelt down beside him and leaned against him, face hot against Lance's arms.

JC's face was upturned to him and he smiled and whispered "Thank you. For this afternoon. That was really good." He wandered off smiling, one hand still rubbing at the other wrist, before Lance even thought again about apologizing.

Lance spent the next week watching JC during the days and thinking about him at night. He wished that JC would approach him, invite something more than companionship. He caught JC looking at him speculatively, but every time he tried to meet his eyes, JC would look down or away and the moment would be lost.

He thought that maybe he should do it, just lean over and pull JC onto his lap and let JC ride him the way they used to do sometimes, when he switched buses with Joey. The memory of those hazy clear blue eyes tilted down in deference confused him, made him wait for JC to make the next move.

They were in another hotel, exactly one week later, when Lance had finally had enough. It was one in the morning, and the connecting doors were closed and locked, but there was a balcony that their suite shared and Lance knew that JC loved to sleep with the soft, warm breeze drifting over him.

He shrugged and figured it was worth a try. JC never minded being woken up. The way he stretched, arching sleepy and running a hand through his hair before swiping at his face was so pretty that Lance couldn't believe he didn't wake JC every single night.

The night air felt soft and humid against his arms, and Lance took a minute to look out over the ocean, thinking that maybe if he didn't know what to say to JC, he'd just pull him outside and that would be enough explanation.

The balcony door was, in fact, slightly ajar and Lance looked in, eyes adjusted to the dark. JC was curled up on his side, hair wild from rubbing against the pillow and one arm clutching the sheets so that they were all bunched in front of him, leaving his back bare. The curve of his spine dipped into the shadows, one leg was pulled forward so that the sheet draped the sharp jut of his hip.

Lance took one small step into the room, really intending to to wake JC, not to stand there just looking like some sort of voyeur, when he realized that JC was wearing his sleep mask. Lance used to make fun of him for it, until he'd had trouble sleeping and JC pressed it into his hand. It smelled faintly of lavendar and blocked all the light, and when he handed it back the next morning, he told JC that he'd never mock the mask again.

He moved softly, silently toward the bed, choices made even as he thought that they were probably not the wisest. Even as he slipped into the bed, so firm that it barely dipped beneath his weight, he still knew that this was probably not a good idea. But when he traced a finger down JC's back, the ridges of his spine hard under silky skin, he didn't think he could stand not touching.

JC shivered awake slowly, arching backwards, making little whimpering noises deep in his throat. When he moved to take off the mask, Lance pulled his hand away gently, but firm enough that JC stopped moving. He twisted backwards, hands reaching out, and Lance grabbed his wrists, pressing his entire body against the sudden heat of JC's back and leaning in to whisper into his ear.

He dropped his voice, licked at the lobe when he whispered, "Shh, shh, it's all right. It's just me."

"What --" JC murmured, stretching back against Lance.

"Shhhh," Lance said.

"Oh," JC said, and sighed, shivering.

Lance pulled JC back into the cradle of his body, head propped up on one hand as he smoothed the other up and down JC's chest, pinching at his nipples just to make JC undulate against him, the pajama pants a sudden hindrance. He leaned in and nipped at the spot where JC's neck curved into his shoulder, warm laughter in his voice when JC jerked and made soft little noises.

"You like that."

JC didn't answer, just pushed back harder, insistent. Lance dipped his hand lower, brushing just his palm against JC's cock, before he ran his fingers along the hollows of his hipbone and back up along his tight stomach muscles. "Yeah. You like that."

There was a moment of silence, broken only by a sharp exhale like JC suddenly realized that he was holding his breath. Lance nipped at his earlobe again, when he leaned in, "I'll be right back. Don't you move a muscle."

He moved slowly off of the bed, watching as JC held himself perfectly still. He made sure that the rustle of his pants being stripped off was audible and that his footsteps to JC's bag were measured. He blessed JC's foresight when he rummaged in the corner pocket and found what he was looking for almost immediately.

Holding the small tube, Lance stood by the bed, just looking at JC before pulling him over onto his back. Straddling him, Lance leaned in to kiss him, soft and sweet kisses at total odds with the situation. When JC started begging, moving his hips up, Lance gathered his arms above his head and said softly, "Don't you move."

JC nodded and Lance slid down his body, licking at his cock, teasing just to hear JC whimper, just to watch him fight to stay still. Then he lowered his head, taking as much as he could, sucking lightly as JC murmured nonsense mixed with "Fuck yeah."

When he felt the muscles in JC's thighs start to clench, Lance moved back up to his mouth, kissing JC harder now, hands constantly moving, smoothing down his arms and along his sides. He finally reached down and uncapped the tube, warming the gel in his hands, coating his finger and pushing one finger firmly inside.

JC gasped and Lance withdrew, pushing two fingers in this time, moving in and out until JC was murmuring broken pleading words. Slicking himself, he whipped the mask off just as he pushed inside.

JC blinked in confusion as his sight returned to him, as his teeth captured his bottom lip and he moved against Lance, pushing back at him. JC reached down to pull Lance onto him, hands sweeping around Lance's lower back, grabbing to pull him closer, deeper.

Lance let JC touch him, just for a minute, before he reached down and pulled his arms back above his head, leaning down to bite at his shoulder, still moving slowly and firmly, moving the way that always made JC shiver and pant and beg him not to stop.

This time, JC's eyes were wide and hazy and his mouth was open, bottom lip reddened where he'd worried it between his teeth and Lance leaned down to lick at that spot.

He knew he wouldn't last much longer, not with JC's eyes fluttering shut and the hot bits of "so good" and "fuck. god, harder." drifting out of his mouth. So he wrapped his hand around JC, and there was one hard thrust and then two and JC was almost screaming as he came, Lance following almost immediately and he thought that maybe he did scream, which only made sense with JC clenching hot, tight, slick around him.

Lance used the comforter to mop them both off, pulling JC into his arms and closing his eyes as he brushed a quick kiss along JC's jaw and relaxed into sleep.

Morning came too fast, and Lance woke to find JC sitting on the side of the bed, staring sleepily off into space. He blinked, wanted to close his eyes because he had absolutely no idea what to say.

When JC turned around, fingers rubbing absently at new bruises on his wrists, a bruise smudging the clean lines of his collarbone, Lance thought that maybe this time he really should apologize. The thoughts were drowned out when JC smiled and leaned in, kissing Lance shyly on the cheek.

JC laughed a little, and Lance felt better about the bruises. He felt even better when JC snuggled against him and whispered, "That was fucking incredible. Can we do that again sometime?"

Lance nodded and he thought that even if he didn't quite understand JC, it was enough just to be able to fuck him. He didn't think he could wait for a whole week again.

~end~.