Date: Sun, 04 Aug 2002 17:11:52 -0400 From: Writer Boy Subject: jc's hitchhiker - part 112 Obligatory warnings and disclaimers: 1) If reading this is in any way illegal where you are or at your age, or you don't want to read about male/male relationships, go away. You shouldn't be here. 2) I don't know any of the celebrities in this story, and this story in no way is meant to imply anything about their sexualities, personalities, or anything else. This is a work of pure fiction. Questions and commentary can be sent to "writerboy69@hotmail.com". I enjoy constructive criticism, praise, and rational discussion. I do not enjoy flames, and will not tolerate them. That said, on with Season 7. ***Lance*** Lance was only half awake in the dim light when he realized Justin was twisting in the sheets, whimpering to himself. Justin had drifted away from him during the night, sliding across the mattress, and now he lay on his back, sweating and panting. His voice was high and breathy, and his breathing was interspersed with whines. "No, please, no, not there, no," Justin whimpered as Lance blinked himself awake. He sounded afraid, but there was also another tone mixed in with the groans and whimpers, a kind of urgent tension. Before Lance could rouse himself completely, trying to shake off the rest of his sleep, he felt the bed twitch as Justin jerked violently, his whole body locking up, and then Justin rolled onto his side, his back to Lance. Lance thought he might be awake, as he was moving around a little. "Justin?" Lance asked sleepily. "You ok?" Justin kept moving around, and Lance wondered if he might still be asleep, but then he froze, and finally spoke. "No!" Justin whispered, his voice high and cracking. "No no no no!" "Justin!" Lance said sharply, starting to sit up. Justin didn't seem to hear him as he threw himself out of bed, running into the bathroom and slamming the door behind him before Lance could even finish sitting up. Junior turned in a nervous circle in front of the bathroom door, whimpering, and Lance bolted out of bed, his heart pounding, when he heard the click of the bathroom door locking. Lance knocked hard on the door. "Justin? Justin?" Inside he heard the shower switch on, and he could hear Justin mumbling to himself over and over, just repeating the word "No." What was wrong with him? And what was he doing in there? Lance remembered what he used to do, the way he used to sit in the shower and scrub and scrub, or turn the water up until he was scalding himself, and began to pound on the door. What if Justin was doing that, or something worse? They had razors in there, and scissors, and any number of other things he could hurt himself with. "Justin! Justin, please open the door!" Lance yelled, practically screaming. "Justin, it's Lance! Please open the door!" There was still no answer from inside the bathroom, and Junior whimpered again, looking urgently at Lance and scratching at the door with his paw. "Justin, please!" Lance said, pounding on the door again. "Justin, you're scaring me, and you're scaring Junior. If you don't open the door, I'm going to break it down, Justin." Lance stood with his forehead against the door, waiting, and just as he was getting ready to kick it open he heard a click as the lock released. "Don't, don't open it, please, ok?" Justin begged him, his voice shaking. He sounded like he was dying, and Lance had to fight every instinct in his body, which told him to open the door right now. He could tell that Justin was right on the other side of it. "Justin, I'm not just leaving you in there," Lance said. "If you want to be alone, I'll leave you in the bathroom after I talk to you, but I have to make sure you're ok. You're scaring me, Justin." "I'm sorry," Justin whimpered, farther away now. "I'm sorry." "Justin, I'm going to open the door now, ok?" Lance said, his hand on the knob. Justin didn't answer him, and Lance started to turn the knob. He was so afraid now that he felt dizzy, terrified that he would open the bathroom and see something horrible. "I'm coming into the bathroom, Justin, but I swear, I promise, I'm not going to hurt you. I promise, Justin. I just want to make sure you're ok." Lance eased slowly into the bathroom, looking around, and Junior wiggled through his legs, trotting over to the shower door. The glass was frosted, but Lance could see the shadowed, indistinct form of Justin, curled into a tiny ball in the bottom of the shower, leaning against the wall as the water streamed over him. Lance could hear him sobbing over the sound of the shower, but he wanted to take in the whole scene before he ran over there, to make sure he didn't miss anything. Stopping himself to do that was one of the hardest things he had ever done, but he was so scared for Justin that he didn't want to become irrational and overlook something. The bathroom counter appeared undisturbed, no razors or bottles of pills in sight. There was a slick trail of water across the bathroom floor, where Justin had apparently left the shower to unlock the door, and Justin's clothes were strewn across the bathroom. Lance walked past them, and sat down on the floor in front of the shower door. "Justin, I'm right here, if you need me," Lance said quietly, making sure Justin could hear him over the water, but not wanting to yell, and make him feel threatened. "Are you all right?" "Go away," Justin whimpered, and Lance could see him folding in on himself in the shower. Junior whined again, apparently as sensitive to Justin's moods as Lance was. Junior didn't seem to be interested in leaving the bathroom, so Lance wasn't, either. "Please, Lance, please don't look at me." "Justin, I can't really see you through the door," Lance said. "Look, you'll see. I can't see you, and I'm not going to open the door without your permission. I just want to make sure you're ok." Justin didn't say anything, but Lance saw him shift a little, and could tell that he was looking, checking on what Lance had said. Lance didn't lie to Justin, ever, and he knew Justin would think of that. "Justin?" Lance asked again. "Justin, please?" "I, I didn't, didn't mean," Justin began, sobbing. "I didn't mean to." "Mean to what?" Lance asked, looking around. Rather than answer, Justin just began crying harder in the shower stall, his shoulders shaking. It was high, fragile crying, as if he were afraid someone might hear. Lance looked around the bathroom, hoping to spot a clue, trying to figure out what could be wrong, when his eyes slid over Justin's discarded clothes again. Lance sniffed, catching a little hint of something, and leaned over to check the pile. Sure enough, the front pouch of Justin's briefs was wet and looked sticky, and the unmistakable smell of cum drifted over toward Lance's nose. Lance sighed, realizing what was wrong, but having no idea what to tell him. "Justin?" Lance said, finally. "Justin, it's not a bad thing. It's not something you did on purpose." "I didn't want to do it," Justin said, still crying. Lance could hear the pain in his voice. "I didn't mean to, I didn't want to, but I, I couldn't help it." "Justin, it's natural," Lance sighed. He wanted to reach into the shower to comfort him, but this was such a touchy situation that he was afraid to do anything, to push Justin's threshold in any way. "It happens to all guys, Justin, and not on purpose. It's not something you did wrong." "But I was dreaming about it, Lance," Justin whined. His tears seemed to be leveling off, and Lance figured that it was probably because, deep down, he knew Lance was right. "I was, I had a dream last night that I was, I was naked, and I was doing, I was doing a bad thing, and it happened again tonight, and I, you know." "Justin, you can't help your dreams," Lance said soothingly. "You know that, Justin. If you could, you and I would both be ok. Now, what happened tonight, it wasn't something you wanted, and even if it was, that would be ok, too." "No, not it wouldn't," Justin said miserably. "It's not ok, not for me. It's not, Lance." Lance sighed, petting Junior, who continued to paw at the shower door with his foot. His nails clicked over the glass, and Lance knew that Justin must be able to hear it inside. He had to get him out of there, and talk him down. "Justin, please, shut off the water," Lance said quietly. "I'm sure you're all washed off by now, and I want to talk to you, ok?" "Are you mad at me?" Justin asked quietly, reaching up to shut the water off. "I'm sorry I woke you." "No, I'm not mad," Lance said, standing. He figured Justin would want him to leave the bathroom, but the shower door cracked open, and Justin's hand snaked out, grabbing a towel. Lance looked away as Justin dried himself, even though he couldn't really see him through the glass anyway, wanting to give him some privacy. Finally Justin wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped out, his torso still a little wet, but all Lance was looking at were his eyes, which were wide and glassy, red rimmed. "I didn't mean to," Justin said softly, avoiding looking at his clothes. "Justin, I told you, it's ok," Lance repeated calmly. "Come on. Let's get you dressed, ok?" "OK," Justin said, nodding. He followed Lance out of the bathroom, Junior dancing around his feet wagging his tail, and walked over to the dresser, pulling out a fresh pair of briefs. "Could you?" "Yeah, no problem," Lance said, turning around. He heard the towel thump onto the floor, and waited. "OK," Justin said, and Lance turned around to see him, in his briefs, pulling on a new shirt, and a pair of long pajama pants. "What did you want to talk to about?" "Justin, come sit down," Lance said, patting the bed. Justin walked over carefully, and Lance reached for the box of tissues, just in case they needed it. "Justin, I know you're upset about what happened tonight, but it's a normal thing. It's something that your body did, and it doesn't have anything to do with what you want, or didn't want." "I didn't want anything," Justin insisted, shaking his head. He held one of Lance's hands, petting Junior with the other. "I didn't, Lance, I don't want that ever again." "I know, Justin, and that's what I wanted to talk to you about," Lance said, squeezing his hand. "Justin, what happened to you was a terrible thing, it was, and in your head, I know that's all you can think of every time you think about sex." Justin's lip trembled, and Lance wrapped his other hand around the one he was holding, cradling it. "Justin, I know how you feel about sex right now," Lance said softly. The room seemed almost unnaturally quiet around them. "You don't have to say anything. I know how hard it is for you, and how much it hurts, because I've been through it. But Justin, what happened to you wasn't your fault, and it didn't have anything to do with sex, not really." "But Lance," Justin began, shaking his head in confusion. "No, Justin, just listen to me for a minute," Lance said, squeezing Justin's hands again. "When you love someone, and you trust them, and you care about them, sex is a beautiful thing. It's soft, and loving, and it will never, ever hurt you. Never, Justin. If you love each other, it will always be nice, and good, and it will always make you feel closer." Justin was listening quietly now, but Lance couldn't tell if he really believed him or not. He didn't expect this little talk to straighten Justin out, to solve all of his problems, but it would give him something to think about, and maybe it would make him feel better about what had happened to him this morning. "It's ok to want that, Justin," Lance said. "It's ok to want to be that close to someone, and to want to make them feel good, and to let them make you feel good, too. It's not wrong, it's not bad, and it's not something you should be ashamed of. What happened to you tonight, this morning, whatever time it is right now, that was your body, and some part of you, telling you it still wants to think about that, and that someday it wants to feel that way about someone. You've felt that way before, Justin, and that was your body and part of your mind telling you that it wants to feel that way someday again." "But I can't," Justin said miserably, shaking his head. His eyes stung again, and he stopped petting Junior to swipe at them with the back of his hand. Lance wrapped an arm around his shoulders and held him tightly. "I can't think about it, about that. When I do, when I start to, I think about, about him, and what he did, and that's all I can see. I feel it, Lance, I still feel it inside. I can't do that, can't think about that, while I feel like that. I just can't." "You don't have to, Justin," Lance said, squeezing Justin against him. "I said someday, but that doesn't have to be now. I know it's different for you from the way it is for me, and that, you know, you like boys and girls both, but someday you're going to like one of them enough that they'll make you feel safe, and you won't be afraid, because you'll trust them, and you'll love them, and you'll know that they love you. The way you feel about them will cover up all the rest, Justin, and all you'll be able to think about is how much you love them. Nothing else, and none of the rest of this. None of it will matter." Justin sighed, but didn't say anything. His eyes were dry again, but he wanted to believe Lance. After all, Lance had been through it before. "You ready to go back to bed?" Lance asked, and Justin nodded, laying back down as Lance went for the lamps. Lance lay on his back, waiting to see if Justin wanted to touch him or not, and Justin slid over, laying his head on Lance's bare chest. Lance smoothed Justin's short, curly hair, and waited for Junior to stop walking around and get comfortable. "Justin? I know it's a lot to think about. Just promise me that if something upsets you again, you won't hold it inside, ok?" "OK," Justin said, swallowing. Lance's bare chest felt warm and smooth beneath his cheek, safe and comforting. "Lance? I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry I made you feel this way." "Justin, we've already had this talk," Lance said. "I don't want you to dwell on it anymore, ok? I know you're sorry, and that you didn't mean to. Neither one of us was thinking clearly about what we were doing then. And, you know, in a weird way, if it hadn't happened, I wouldn't be able to help you." "That doesn't make it ok," Justin said quietly. He knew that Lance was just trying to make him feel better, but what he'd done couldn't just be brushed aside like that. It had hurt Lance too much for them to just sweep it under the rug. Lance brushed his hand through Justin's hair again. "No, it doesn't," Lance agreed. "But it doesn't matter, Justin. I want to move on, not look back, and that's what we should think about now. Getting past what happened to us. Just because it happened once doesn't mean it has to keep happening again, and that's what'll keep happening if you let it. Every time you think about it, and let it consume you, it happens again. Someday it'll stop, Justin, but part of that will come from you. Let's go to sleep now, ok?" Justin didn't answer, but as he lay awake, listening to Lance's breathing change as he fell back to sleep, he realized again that he had a lot to think about. ***Jack*** "I love you," Josh breathed, licking the back of my neck as he pushed inside of me. "I love you, too," I panted, feeling his chest slide across my back as his cock stretched into me. I was impaled beneath him on the mattress, crushed into it, but I liked it. Burning warmth rolled pleasurably through me, and I could barely catch my breath as his hands slid under my chest to grab my shoulders, using them to pull himself forward. I'd woken up slowly, feeling feather light caresses as his fingers played over my body. He wasn't poking or prodding, just touching, brushing his hands over me. Sometimes Josh just liked to touch me, as if to prove to himself that I was real. Regardless of his reasons, I sighed as I felt a fingertip lightly drawing circles around my nipple as he laid the other hand flat on my chest, my heart beating beneath his palm. His hands were soft, deftly nimble as they danced across my body, and when I felt the tip of his index finger slide over the top of my stiffening nipple, I lazily opened my eyes to see him smiling at me. In the full light of morning I could see that I was right, and he was losing a little weight, but he was still gorgeous. The sheet had fallen down to our waists, and my eyes jumped back and forth over his chest, up the lines of his neck, down the ripples of his abs, before settling on his bright blue eyes, sparkling beneath the wavy tangle of his brown and bronze streaked hair. "Good morning," he said, smiling. His face lit up, those cheekbones glowing, lips stretching wide. "Morning," I said, lunging for him. Josh laughed as I rolled over him in the bed, wrapping his arms around me as I scrabbled mine down his sides, tickling him. He shook beneath me, trying to squirm away, as my fingertips ran up his sides, dancing over his ribs and the spot just below his armpit, where everyone is ticklish. He was laughing, shaking his head back and forth as he tried to escape, his feet jerking blindly beneath the sheet, strong legs brushing against mine. He begged me to stop, and when I refused he reached up to grab my face with both hands, biceps flexing as he held me in place, and then he brought his soft lips to mine, his pink tongue darting into my mouth. I sighed against him, feeling our stubbly chins brush against each other, and stopped tickling as I lay on top of him, eyes closed, mouths still joined. "That's cheating," I whispered finally, when we broke. He flicked his tongue out over my bottom lip. "What ever it takes," he answered, smiling. Josh pulled my head back down, his hands still on the sides of my face, and brought his mouth to mine again. His lips were a little firmer now, more insistent, and I realized that my hard cock was laying against his, trapped between our bodies. I arched my back a little, flexing, and felt my shaft slide against his. We both moaned into each other's mouths, and as I did it again his hands moved, one sliding around the back of my head to grip my neck while the other danced down my back, grabbing one of my cheeks and using it to pull me against him. Josh and I continued kissing, mouths fighting each other now, tongues pressing against each other like snakes as I thrust against him, and he moved beneath me, thrusting as well. Our hard cocks ground against each other, caressing each other, both of us starting to leak a little against our abs, our heads smearing wetly against each other as Josh's strong hands, gripping and pulling, urged me against him. One of my hands was on Josh's hip, my fingers pressing against the velvet muscle, and the other snaked between us to his chest, grabbing one of his hard brown nipples in a quick twist that had him grunting into my mouth. Josh flexed beneath me, still holding me, our mouths stuck together as if glued, and rolled, so that I was now below him. The sheet twisted around us, and he kicked at it, shoving it down as we continued to thrust our cocks against each other, moaning and grunting. He broke our kiss, his hands sliding off of me as he lifted himself up on them, and stared down at me. His eyes were half closed, his mouth wet with both our spit, and his face was clouded with lust and passion. I stared up at him, my hips moving almost involuntarily now, and felt his hot breath panting across my face. Without saying a word he slid down my body, bypassing my chest entirely as he brought his mouth down to the head of my cock, sliding his lips over it. I sighed his name loudly, my hands sliding around to tangle in his hair as I pressed my head back into the pillows, my back arching as my body tried to push into his mouth. Josh head my head inside, sucking lightly, running his tongue over and around it, and dipped the tip through my slit, sucking up my salty precum. As I whimpered beneath him he began to bob his head, taking just the slightest bit more of my shaft into his mouth each time he went down, and I thrust my hips up, fighting his slow pleasure, my arms flexing. His own arms, on my thighs, kept me from pushing in more, but he smiled up at me, clearly enjoying this gradually torturous blowjob. He began to hum around my cock, knowing that I liked that, and I thought I would lose it right then, groaning his name as I begged him to swallow me. Josh continued his slow bobbing on me, his tongue still dancing over my cock as it pushed through the tight ring of his lips, and when his face finally buried itself in my pubes, sliding away as he slid almost all the way off, and then dropped down again, his hands slid around my thighs to my balls, and began kneading them, pulling them away from my body. My hands convulsed in his hair, squeezing it tightly, forcing his head down into my crotch as my arms bulged, and as I felt one of his fingers pushing insistently at my ass I groaned and unloaded into his mouth. He swallowed, and kept swallowing, before finally pulling off of me and kissing his way up my body to my mouth. When I saw his face above me, flushed and wet, I grabbed the back of his neck and ground his mouth down against mine, jamming my tongue against his, tasting myself mixed in with the natural taste of him. "Josh, please," I panted, feeling one hand slide up and down my body as the other continued to work at my hole. "Make love to me." "Tell me how you want it, Jack," he purred, and I knew what he wanted. "Fuck me, Josh," I breathed, rotating my hips back onto his probing fingers. "Fuck me, hard. Slam that big cock up inside me." "Yeah," he grunted, chewing at my lip, his fingers pushing harder now. Every once in a while Josh wanted me to talk dirty to him, and I was always happy to oblige. It was a lot better than when he tried it. He was so damned polite that his best attempts at it were usually laughable. "Fuck my tight ass, Josh," I grunted, wondering if I'd actually stolen that line from a porno or if it just sounded like I did. Josh's free hand had wandered into the nightstand, and I heard the condom rip open. I pulled it out of his hands. "Let me." I rolled it down over his throbbing cock, feeling it twitch in my hands, and he pressed the tube of lube into my other hand. I flicked off the cap and squeezed a generous portion between us, onto his working hand, and shuddered as I felt the cold slickness on my ass. Pushing another dollop into my palm, I brought it to his sheathed cock and worked my hand up and down it, making sure I didn't pull the condom off. Josh's hand pulled out of me, and I arched my hips up in anticipation, but then I felt his hands on my shoulders as he pulled at me. "Roll over," he breathed against my neck, and I did. Before I'd even finished turning I felt Josh against me, throwing himself on top of me, crushing me beneath his body as I felt his cock slide into me in one smooth, brutal stroke. I froze, my head jerking back as I fought to catch my breath, and felt his mouth on my neck as he began to thrust into me. He slammed forward, pulling almost all the way out of me, leaving me feeling empty and hollow, before he surged back again in long, even strokes that jabbed at my prostate and had me groaning his name, straining beneath him. He kissed and sucked at the back of my neck, working my traps over with his lips and teeth as if determined to leave a hickey, and told me he loved me. As he thrust faster and faster, sighing and yelping, he finally froze, his hips jerking once, and I clenched tightly around him. "Oh, God," he panted, dropping down onto my sweaty back. "Jesus that was good," I sighed, still seeing stars dance across my vision. "Let's hit the showers," he said, reaching for the tissues. "You might have to carry me," I said, giggling, as he pulled off the condom and cleaned himself up a little. I still hadn't caught my breath. "I'm ok with that," he said, laughing, as he bent and scooped me up, throwing me over his shoulder and carrying me into the bathroom as I laughed and tried not to fall off. His shoulders weren't exactly broad, but it was a cute gesture, and I kissed him as he set me down on the bathroom floor. "You didn't have to do that," I said, reaching in to turn on the water. "You'll throw your back out." "I'm tougher than you think," he said, puffing up his chest. "I know," I said, laughing. "I can barely walk." "That means I was good," he said, holding the door open for me to step inside. "You're always good," I said, grinning, and watching him smile as well. "Now wash my back." We stayed in the shower for a while, slow and careful, worshipping each other the way I had last night. Josh scrubbed me good, telling me he loved me and how much he missed me, and I scrubbed him again, seeing all the parts I'd only known by feel the night before. We started kissing again, and ended up against the back wall, with him leaning into me, kissing me over and over, as our hands played over each other. I ran mine up and down his back, feeling him jump and shift, and he had his on the sides of my jaw, using them to turn my face side to side so that he could kiss my mouth, or my neck. "So, what are we doing today?" I asked. "Once we get out of the shower, I mean." "First we're going to dry off, and then we'll get dressed," he answered, nuzzling his wet head under my jaw. "I was thinking a little beyond that," I said, tracing his spine. I liked to run my fingertips over it, and I could tell he did, too, because he always gave a little shiver. "Oh," he said, giggling. The shower was still pouring down on us, but neither of us were actually making any moves toward getting out. It was too nice just to be there with each other, to pretend no one else existed. He flicked my necklace aside with his tongue and licked the hollow of my throat. It was so quick and light that I thought I would pass out, feeling my knees start to give. "Oh, you liked that." "I like everything you do to me," I answered, leaning a little to catch his earlobe in my teeth. I knew he liked that just as much, and I heard him groan as I ran my tongue up the curve of his ear. "Now tell me what we're doing today, before I have to find some way of making you talk." "Well, after we dry off and get dressed," Josh began, watching me smile at hearing him repeat himself, "I thought I'd take you out to eat, since we're in New York, and I can take you to someplace nice and fancy and spoil you." "I like being spoiled," I laughed, gasping as he chewed on my neck and pinched one of my nipples. "Oh, Josh." "And then we have that party tonight," he said. I had flown back in for the party, which was some sort of MTV shindig. It wasn't an awards show, or a record release, but really I had more or less stopped asking. The guys went to so many things, and I had been mildly surprised when an invitation came separately to me. It was going to be one of the network's cast of thousands type of evenings, the kind of parties that I didn't feel quite at home in yet and wouldn't go to without Josh, who never seemed nervous at these things. At least we could go sort of casual, although it was what I called Pop-Casual, which meant I would pick out three or four outfits that Josh shook his head at before he finally told me what to wear. "Are we all going to that?" I asked. "Has anyone checked the guest list?" "Nick and Howie aren't supposed to be there," Josh answered. "So Justin and Lance are coming. Before the party, but after lunch, I also promised Chris we would go to the airport to pick up Vlada, because he's out golfing with Justin today." "That'll be cool," I said, reaching over to turn the water off. He looked at me, surprised. "Josh, my fingers are all wrinkled. We've been in here forever, and Lance is probably going to bring Junior over soon." "Yeah, and you still have to talk to Chad, too," Josh said, raining on my parade as he handed me a towel. "Oh yeah," I said, smiling falsely. Josh frowned, but let it go, and I remembered that I was going to try to get along with Chad better so that I could stop stressing Josh out. I would do my best to get along with him, but I didn't have to like him. *** To be continued.