Date: Wed, 18 Jun 2003 22:52:41 -0700 (PDT) From: "Griffin, LD" Subject: it-happened-one-summer-7 It Happened One Summer (7/?) By: LD Griffin and Jess Rating: R to NC-17 Feedback: Either Sleepychick101@yahoo.com (LD's address) or XTCsCrUb1@aol.com (Jess' address) Authors' Notes: This story is a collaboration. The seventh chapter is written by LD, edited by Jess. Each chapter will begin with a note of who wrote it. Dedication: To Daniel Day-Lewis, just because Jess likes you: "So close, Q, god, just...yes right there! Fuck!" JC screamed as Justin pulled all the way out then slammed back in rubbing against JC's prostate. JC frantically jerked his raging erection with every last ounce of strength he had. Shutting his eyes tight, he screamed as he clenched his ass and came all over the mattress; the spray jetting out in front of him. Justin watched JC's back quake and pushed in a few more times, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he neared the edge. "Come on, Q, come for me. You can do it," JC whimpered, breathless, as his heartbeat calmed. Justin bucked his hips up one last time as he braced his entire body weight on his left hand. Opening his mouth just slightly, he released deep into the condom; the faintest notion of a heartfelt moan audible in the room. JC turned around and smiled a big toothy grin, "Fuck; that was fantastic." Justin smiled in return as he pulled out and removed the condom, wrapping it in a tissue and tossing it into the garbage can. He fell back on the bed in an exhausted heap. JC stood up and moved over to the closet, going in and pulling out a suitcase and a pair of boxers. "I'm sorry to rush you out like this, I know it's late and all but I got to pack and get out of here. I'm expected to be at the airport at 1:00. I don't know why he wanted me to take the red eye flight but he did, and I've got to go, so...here, I'll go get your payment." Justin sat up and rubbed his temple. He looked over at the clock and saw that it was 11:20. JC came back in the room and handed Justin a wad of bills. Smiling, Justin stood up and moved across the room to his discarded clothes. "So, San Francisco huh?" Justin asked, shimmying into his leather pants and placing the money in his back pocket. "Yeah, for a week. I'll be back next Wednesday, so I'll see you that Thursday." JC said as he started to place items of clothing into the suitcase, continuing to pace back and forth from his closet as he changed his mind. "What for?" "Well, you know my friend Joey, I think I mentioned him before, anyway he invited me to accompany him on his business trip. I'm flying into LA and then he's driving me up there. It's been a couple years since we vacationed together, and I figure, he's only got to attend two seminars so that means I can do some antiquing and then we can hang the rest of the time." "Sound cool." Justin smiled wistfully and finished buttoning his shirt. "Yeah." JC answered absentmindedly, already in another world as he finished packing the suitcase then began to get dressed. "Have fun. I guess I'll get out of your hair..." "I'll see you next Thursday. You were amazing. As always" JC turned and smiled genuinely, his eyes sparkling as he waved to Justin. "Yeah, okay. Well, thanks..." Justin awkwardly made his way to the front door and let himself out, his heartbeat drumming in his ears. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Justin braced himself against his usual wall. The bar was emptier tonight then he'd seen it in awhile and the smell of smoke and illegal drugs wafted throughout the dingy atmosphere, making the room achieve a spellbinding attribute. The usuals were seated on the barstools, drowning their sorrows and misfortunes in pitcher upon pitcher of beer and other assorted liquors, their minds not caring that their slumped over bodies were beginning to form hunchbacks. Justin scanned the room for anyone that appeared to be even the least bit attractive, only noting one man far in the back that had a girl kneeling down in front of his pants as his eyes glistened with lust in the lamplight. The bathroom door opened and shut as a tall man with dirty-blonde hair emerged into the room. His cockiness was apparent as he made his way past the bar with his chin up high, nodding at some of the ladies who gave him a small wink. Justin stood up straight and began to mingle towards him, not paying attention to the people that stared in his direction as he focused on his target. The man looked up and caught eye contact and smirked, walking back towards the rest room once more. Justin followed inside, placing his body firmly against the door as he smirked. "So, you're the one they talk about. John didn't give you justice. You're hot as fuck." "I'm Q. One hundred bucks an hour, fifty bucks per blowjob; no less." "Slow down baby; let me get a look at you. Take off your pants for me. Show daddy what it is that he's going to get to fuck and suck." "I need to see the money in advance. No money, no show." "Well, fine, have it your way," the man reached into his back pocket and handed Justin two bills. Justin nodded his head as he tucked the money into his pocket and then turned around. Unsnapping his pants, he slowly removed the material from his body, the cold wood of the bathroom door sending shivers down his spine. "I bet that ass is so tight, I just wanna ride it until it squeezes my cock so firm I explode." The man reached out and started to slowly touch Justin's ass. Justin closed his eyes and tried to get into the sensation, rolling his hips back against the man's hand so he could feel the contact more. `You don't want this, Justin, this isn't right.' Justin cleared his mind and continued concentrating on the touch that was being applied to his backside. The man had moved his hand up and was now starting to slowly tease Justin's perineum. `You are not enjoying this, stop trying to make yourself. Look down, you're not even aroused.' Justin instinctively glanced down at his crotch, noting that his dick was as limp as it had been all day long when it was trapped in his pants. "Jesus, I wanna feel you pucker around my throbbing shaft. Can you do that little fucker? Can you take it like the whore you are?" Justin squeezed his eyes shut at the name, the sound of it ringing in his ears. `Yeah, you heard right Justin. He called you a whore. JC never calls you a whore; he would never call you a whore.' "I bet you want it so bad, don't you. Come on turn around for me so that I can see your leaking cock that needs me to suck it, to make it shoot its load deep down my throat with its fucking whoring need." The man backed up, allowing Justin enough room to turn around. Justin stayed against the door for a minute, the beating of his heart echoing in his chest. "Well, come on, don't keep me waiting. I don't got all night to fuck your ass." Justin turned around and ground his heels firmly into the ground. His eyes bore a look of pain and embarrassment; his hands hung solemnly down next to his waist. "You're not even fucking hard. Forget this, whore. I want my money back. The only thing that makes it worth it is when I turn you little fuckers on. I'm not even a fucking fag like you; I'm married. I just love seeing you wail when I fuck the shit out of your ass." The man reached into Justin's pockets and drew out the cash he'd given Justin earlier that evening. Grasping it tightly, he shoved Justin aside harshly and stormed out of the bathroom. The door swung back and smacked Justin straight in the forehead, knocking him down to his knees. He sat there on the floor, pants undone and ass exposed to the air, until he heard rustled movement in the hallway. Standing up and putting himself back together, he looked himself over once in the mirror and tried to smile. `You're worth more than this Timberlake. Don't let that man get to you. He's just one in a million of people that aren't worth your time.' Quenching his eyes shut quickly, he willed back the few proud tears that willed to slip away, and turned to walk out the door. `There's someone out there who will you treat you right, you know that.' "But I've already found him," he whispered to himself, unconsciously, as the door swayed shut behind him. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The hotel room bed creaked as JC sat up and looked out the window into the San Francisco night. The moon shone over the water, effortlessly ghosting the buildings in a soft glow. He rubbed his forehead and smoothed back his hair, scratching his belly as he went. Standing up, he quietly padded his way towards the kitchenette, hoping to find something to calm his anxiety. The TV was on in the suite's living room. Looking over at the screen, he could see David Letterman mindlessly chatting about the newest political headlines in the paper. Joey lay stretched out on the couch, feet propped up against the armrest. "Hey." JC managed, yawning, as he opened up one of the cupboards, looking for one of the instant coffee bags. "Hey. I thought you went to bed." Joey answered, cocking his head to look in JC's direction. "I can't sleep. Something's gnawing at my nerves and I just kept tossing and turning." "Wanna talk about it?" "Not really. To be honest, I'm not even sure what it is." "Okay. Well, I was actually just about ready to head to bed myself. Don't drink too much coffee; you know how you get when you have too much caffeine." Joey grinned, all his teeth showing. "Thanks Ann. I already know, that's why I went for the decaf." JC stated, sarcastically, as he set the coffeepot to "on". "Ouch. I don't know what's harsher. The fact that you just called me a girl or the fact you just compared me to Ann." "Sorry, I told you my nerves were shot. I don't know what's wrong with me." "Listen, I'll be in my room if you need me. Drink some coffee, watch a little tele and unwind. You're on vacation man, in the town that has so many available men you definitely need your beauty sleep so you can find one." "But I don't want any men here, I want..." JC trailed off, reaching for a mug. "Yeah, I know. Goodnight." Joey walked out of the room, leaving JC there with his thoughts. JC poured himself a cup of coffee, turned of the pot, and then leaned back against the counter. He sighed deep in his chest then took a sip of the liquid, letting the warmth seep into his body and settle somewhere deep in his gut. "Why does my life have to be so complicated?" he thought, letting the steam from the cup waft his senses as he closed his eyes and tried to relax. The mug warmed his hand as he continued to stand there, mindlessly sipping on the drink as he became lost in his thoughts. When he'd drunk the entire cup, he placed it down gently in the sink, ran some water into it, then turned and made his way back to his bedroom. Pulling back the covers once more, he slipped underneath the blankets and stared up at the ceiling until his eyelids drooped shut and he nodded off peacefully. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Dave shot the basketball through the hoop and did his victory dance as he made his way back over to Justin. "Ha! 21 boo yah! I win." "Yeah..." Justin picked up the ball and tossed it back into the storage container. "You don't look so hot, been working that ass too hard?" Dave smirked, as he plopped his ass on the concrete. "You could say that." Justin rolled his eyes and looked up at the sky. Dark clouds were rolling in fast; it looked like it was going to rain soon. "Well, maybe you should take some time off. You've made enough money lately, with your two regulars, that a couple days to clear your head will not put you in the hole." "I was thinking that. I think I need it; I'm in over my head right now." "Uh oh, trouble in paradise?" Dave patted the ground next to him, motioning for Justin to sit down. "Eh, not really. I just, it's gotten to be kind of a blur recently. I think I'm just tired." "J-man, you're taking this shit way too seriously. Remember, you're in control here. It's just sex, nothing else. You're getting paid to do what men love most, it's not deep and it's not a hard thing to do. It's just getting off." "I know, I know but..." "Seriously, take a couple days. You look like you need it my friend." Dave patted Justin on the shoulder and then stood up. "I got to run. It's getting sort of late and I need to work tonight. See ya." "Bye." Justin lay down on his back and closed his eyes, staying there until the first couple raindrops fell on his forehead. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ JC reached into his pocket and retrieved his keys. Setting his suitcase and carry-on down at his feet, he found the one that unlocked his apartment and placed it in the lock. He turned it to the left until he heard it click, and then gently turned the handle, opening the door. Slipping the suitcase in the room, he propped the door open with his foot until he had enough grounding to proceed in himself, only turning around for a second to secure and lock the door. The apartment looked genuinely untouched. Granted, he'd only been gone a week but it had seemed like a lifetime. Never before had he ever had such a long vacation to the point of where when it was time to go home, he could never have been happier to return to the normal stagnancy of his own life, his own routine. The mail was cluttered in a seemingly endless pile outside the slot; the oven clock glowed in the dim room. "Home," he breathed, bending down to pick up the post and then making his way into the kitchen, leaving his bags at the door to be moved at a later time. JC set the letters down on the counter and then walked to the other side of the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a coke. Popping the top, he took a long, indulgent swig and then sighed, reveling in the simplicity of it all. He made his way back over to the pile of letters, magazines, bills, and junk mail, beginning to open and read them one by one. After separating all of it into piles of things to keep and things to trash, he moved into his bedroom. His bed sat unmade, just like he left it. The sheets were tangled in a knotted mess, the trashcan filled with condom wrappers and tissues that surrounded used latex. JC sighed as he pulled off his shoes and sat down on the bed. Looking over at the clock, he noted it was only nine at night. Too tired to care, however, he pulled his knees up into the fetal position and lay back on the pillow. He was asleep the minute the satin caressed his scalp. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Justin stepped out of the shower and reached for the towel that he'd sat on the toilet lid. He picked it up and ran the large cotton bundle all over his torso, down across his crotch and up under his legs, soaking every last drop of water into the fabric. Opening it up to its widest length, he shimmied it down across back and then let the cloth ghost across the baby-smooth creases and skin of his ass. The steam from the shower had fogged up the mirror above his sink and counter. He took the back of his hand and slowly wiped away the mist, watching as his hand revealed the reflection staring back at him. Justin leaned his head back and watched as his curls flopped down around his eyes and ears. Taking a deep breath, he reached into the vanity drawer and pulled out his comb. Ever so gently, he began untangling every perfect curl until they were set in just the right place on his head. "Curly ques everywhere, all over my head, and that's why they call me Q." he sangsonged to himself, brushing the last piece of hair to the side and twirling the teeth of the comb around it until it was in its perfect place. He looked down over every plane of his body, studying every curve, every freckle. "I am one hot mother-fucker," he whistled, glancing down at his crotch and cupping it for good measure. One last look in the mirror as he wrapped the towel around his waist, then he walked into his bedroom. `So why do I feel like shit?' ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ JC looked down at his watch and pressed the illuminate button on the wristband. Eleven forty-five PM. `Where the fuck is Q. He always gets here at nine so we can have amazing sex till one.' Not a light was lit in the room. JC sat on his sofa in the complete dark; the curtains were pulled tightly closed at the window. A small wrapped package lay on top of some letters on the coffee table. JC kicked his feet back and rested his head on his hand. A car could be heard whizzing down the street out in front of his complex as a dog began to bark at the full moon. `Where is he? I've really missed him and it's our night. Don't tell me he forgot.' Just then a small, barely audible knock could be heard at the door. JC stood up and made his way over. Being careful this time, he looked through the peephole and saw a familiar set of blonde curls. JC smiled to himself as he unlocked the door, "There you are! I was wondering where you were! I missed you." JC started to move towards Justin but was stopped with the heel of Justin's right hand. "This is just sex. I come over here and you pay me to fuck you or you pay me to fuck me. That's all, got it?" Justin's stare was hard and grim; his eyes tight and lifeless. "Yeah, I got it. I thought I had understood it the entire time." JC answered, immediately going on the defensive. "I'm just your release, nothing more, understand?" "Yes, yes, I understand. Now come in, I got you something." JC made his way back into the living room, flipping on the light switch so he could see the coffee table clearly. Picking up the small box, he handed it to Justin and smiled. "I just saw it and thought of you. Open it." Justin stood dumbfounded. `I thought I just told him this was just fucking, and here he is giving me a present.' Justin's hands began to slightly quiver as he lifted the lid off. He could see a tiny glimmer of silver from underneath the tissue paper that lined the inside of the box. He folded back the paper as his breath caught in the back of his throat. There, in this package, lay the most beautiful silver pocket watch he'd ever seen. "JC, I...I...don't know what to say..." Justin picked up the watch and held it in his hand, the antique face glistening as it picked up the light in the room. "Say you like it. It's not a lot. I told you I was going antiquing in San Francisco and when I saw this, I just immediately thought of you. This way, you can never be late to our appointments because you have a watch now. I'll expect you to be here at nine every time we meet and if you're not you'll be in trouble." "But this is just fucking. You're paying me to get you off..." Justin ranted as he placed the watch back in its container. "Well, I...uh...well..." JC started, not really knowing now what to say to Justin's comment. "This is just fucking..." Justin repeated, more to himself than anyone else, as he placed the box back down on the table and then grabbed JC by the waist, slamming his lips on top of JC's own pair and devouring them for all they were worth.