Right Side of a Good Thing
by Ann and Miss Kitty E
It's cold outside and for a while Lance stands at the window, watching people
walk by with their shoulders hunched, their jackets zipped all the way up.
It's windy outside, Lance can hear the wind rushing by, howling. Standing
close to the window he can even feel it seeping through the glass. It's not
all bad, though, because he's sharing this particular drafty room with Joey.
Justin's mom was with them again and there was no way he was rooming with
He turns from the window and climbs into his bed. Joey is sprawled on the
other, under the thick, scratchy hotel spread. They are both wearing thick
socks and sweats and sweaters but they still feel the draft. They huddle
under the covers on their respective beds and Joey surfs past Rachel and
Chandler arguing in badly dubbed German.
Lance perks; it's been forever since he's seen American television. "No,
Joey, go back. That was Friends."
Joey's channel surfing never falters, "Dude, that episode is old. And it's in
A cold chill suddenly creeps up Lance's back and he shivers during an
attempted shrug, rattling his headboard against the wall. He looks over to
Joey and finds him looking back. Joey smiles at him, but Lance quickly drops
his gaze and looks back at the TV.
Joey pauses again at familiar faces. Sally Field and Dolly Parton are yelling
at each other in "Steel Magnolias" and even though it's not set in
Mississippi, the setting around them reminds Lance so much of home that the
light of the TV is softened by gathering tears. He bites the inside of his
cheek to get them to go away.
Joey sighs heavily and when Lance looks over he sees Joey lift up his
blanket, and gesture with one arm. "Dude, come here," he says.
Lance is cold and miserable and home sick and even though he's only known
Joey for a matter of months, he likes Joey. Likes him a lot, even sort of
likes him like that. He slides out of his bed with little more encouragement.
He goes over and climbs under the sheets but keeps himself carefully apart.
Sure Joey invited him into his bed, but that doesn't mean that he wouldn't get
the wrong idea if Lance tried to touch him or something. He doesn't want to
get kicked out, doesn't want to make things awkward.
Only now he can feel the cold air seeping down the collar of his sweater,
because the blanket is stretched taut between them. He jumps a little when he
feels Joey's hand on his waist.
"You're sort of missing the whole point, Lance," Joey says, right up close to
Lance's ear. "You know, share the body heat and all that?" Lance thinks he's
going to die when Joey puts a hand on his hips and pulls him over.
He can't help but stiffen as Joey drapes his arm around Lance's waist. This
is too much. He can feel Joey's breath on his ear as he watches Sally scream
in the little cemetery and he thinks he knows how she might feel.
Lance catches his breath when he feels Joey's leg drape over his, bringing
Joey’s chest into full contact with Lance’s back. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm
himself, trying to be nonchalant so Joey doesn't know how much he likes it,
and catches the scent of shampoo and soap and realizes that Joey is still
warm from the shower. He breathes deeply of the fresh scent of Pert Plus and
Ivory and Joey, but slowly so Joey doesn't know.
Joey runs his warm hands over Lance's arms and down his sides and Lance can
feel his skin tingling wherever Joey's hands go. He can feel Joey's warmth
spreading through him, chasing the cold from his limbs. But his hands and his
feet are still cold and he wants to put them on Joey, wants to steal some of
the warmth radiating from him. So he shifts closer, backwards, and his hands
slide across Joey's forearm where he's pushed up the sweater.
He feels Joey jump, hears the "Damn, Bass!" in his ear as Joey pulls Lance's
hands into his, rubbing them. He shifts upward and leans over Lance's side,
brings his hands to his mouth and breaths on them, still rubbing vigorously.
Lance looks up at his hands, pressed between Joey's, and gulps. Joey meets
his eyes and smiles. "Keep your cold feet to yourself though, kid," he says
and Lance blushes. His whole body is starting to feel very warm. He gets a
little squirmy, just can't help it. He doesn't know whether to shift closer,
or put a stop to this before it gets out of hand and he's got to explain why
he's getting hard under Joey's platonic touches.
Joey lets go of his hands, and his own are back around Lance's waist. Joey
doesn't seem to think anything of being so close, so Lance presses against
him, just a little more. He could make a habit of this, being allowed to get
so close, feeling the full press of Joey's body, and soaking up the warmth.
He closes his eyes and settles down, ready to forget the movie, and just take
a nap in the sublimely warm and comforting bed he now shares with Joey. Joey
shifts a little and Lance's eyes snap open because he can feel Joey pressing
into his hip, half hard and warmer than any other part of him.
He must have jerked or given himself away somehow because Joey mumbles, "Um,
don't worry 'bout that. 'S nothing."
He doesn't want it to be nothing, though. Lance takes a deep breath and his
eyes brush over Joey's face before focusing on his shoulder. He clears his
throat, "What if I want it to be, um, something?"
Joey's breath catches sharply and Lance is afraid to look up and see that
he's overstepped his bounds. Joey's big hand slides under his chin, tilting
up Lance's face. "Lance?" he says in a small, wondering voice.
It still takes Lance a second to look him in the eye. His breath is coming so
fast now, because it's really hitting him that he's in a bed with Joey and
they're both getting hard and they can do something about it, or ignore it.
He finally looks up at Joey, meets his eyes, and sees his own feelings of
hope and worry reflected there. He's reassured and oddly comforted that Joey
is a little scared too. "I want it to be something," he says, looking into
Joey's dark eyes.
He closes his eyes as Joey dips his head and nibbles on Lance's mouth. He
moves with nipping kisses over Lance's lips until Lance works up the courage
and really kisses him. He flips over in bed, so their chests are pressed
together but not their hips, not yet. He runs his hands up Joey's back, into
his hair where they tangle in the long, dark strands.
Joey hums happily into his mouth and pulls him even closer, running his
tongue over Lance's lips. Lance opens for him and their tongues crash
together in a slick caress.
Joey flips on his back and drags Lance on top of him, claiming the warmth of
both Lance and the blanket. He's not sure how far he's getting ahead of
himself, but Lance just wiggles happily into place. Joey runs his hands down
Lance's back, hiking Lance's sweatshirt up to run warm fingers over the hot
skin of his back.
From above him, Lance can feel every warm, hard inch of Joey. His hips press
into Joey's and he can feel how hard Joey has gotten, how hard that's made
him in answer. It occurs to him that he might just want to take this all the
way. He squirms and gasps a little as Joey's hands brush the naked skin on
his stomach, which makes him grind down against Joey who grabs his hips and
rises to meet him, just once before flipping them onto their sides.
Lance is gasping for breath, his hands still tangled in Joey's hair. Joey
scoots back a little and stops Lance as he tries to follow. "We have to slow
down, man. This is your first time, isn't it?"
Lance looks down from Joey's face, finds his gaze on Joey's neck. He watches
as Joey swallows heavily, gulps almost. He watches Joey's Adam's apple travel
the length of his neck. He knows Joey is just as swept away as he is, but he
doesn't want to stop.
"Um, well, yes. But I'm cool. Really."
Joey sighs. They'll screw things up if they start this way so he turns Lance
around again and cuddles up to his back. The arms around Lance are warmer
now, closer, and he can feel Joey's breath on the back of his neck.
"We have time," he breathes, kissing the cooling skin. "Lots of time," he
says, turning up the volume on the TV.
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