Date: Thu, 30 Nov 2017 13:53:06 -0600 From: Conor Monaghan Subject: Bieber and Mendes Mendes; Chapter 1/3: Fans LENGTH: 1,371 words WARNING: This story contains sexual acts between young adult males and/or females. If you do not enjoy this type of material, or if it is illegal in your country or place of residence, please stop reading immediately. This story is not in any way an accurate depiction of reality, and any relations to real persons or acts that may appear within are unintentional. THIS STORY IS FICTION. DISCLAIMER: This story was written for the enjoyment of readers. It should not be reposted or reproduced without the writer's consent. AUTHOR: Early drafts of future chapters and/or future work may be available first at www.conormonaghan.com. The author would love to hear your feedback on the story at conor.monaghan.writing@gmail.com --------------------------------------------------------------------- "You're seriously telling me that you've never hooked up with a fan, Mendes?" "Never," Shawn repeats with a shy smile. Justin Bieber, Shawn Mendes, and Troye Sivan are seated on a sprawling U-shaped couch, nestled in a shared penthouse suite at the MGM Grand in Vegas. In between them, an amorphous granite table is a wasteland for empty beer bottles. Justin is wearing basketball shorts and a red dri-fit Under Armour t-shirt. A few feet to his right sits Troye, clothed in an over-long striped sweater and jeans. On the other side of the couch, Shawn, outfitted in all black, a t-shirt and jeans. Shawn and Troye are serving as opening acts for Justin on his latest tour. The jaunt has been ongoing for several months; they landed in Vegas earlier today for a show schedule for tomorrow. A night to relax. Positioned at the far side of the room, pouring shots of bourbon for themselves, are Cameron Dallas and Nash Grier, two of Shawn's friends from his early days as a Vine star. They flew in to tag along for a boy's night in Vegas: gambling, drinking, women. Whatever the night may be bring. A clink of glasses. Bottoms up. Cameron and Nash down the two shots. "Listen, Mendes, I'm not saying that you're gay, but I think you must like dick." Shawn rolls his eyes. "What does that have to do with anything? I just don't need to resort to desperate fans to get some. It's not worth the risks, anyway. I don't want STDs. I don't want it to end up in the news." "Simple. Wrap it up, and keep an eye out for cameras. I used to worry about girls I fucked going to the tabloids, but eventually I realized they never do. The girls who do end up going to the tabloids are the ones who have never met you in the first place, who just want to be famous or make some money. For every lying bitch that you've seen in a magazine claiming that she's pregnant with my baby, there are fifty more whose asses I actually plowed. "It's not really all that surprising that it works out like that, either. Think about, put yourself in her shoes: I just spent all night kissing Justin Bieber's ass and swallowing his loads. Should I go to the tabloids and tell them? Who the fuck would even believe them? "All I'm saying is that fans want to service you, so let them," Justin finally concludes. "I don't need to resort to desperate fans," Shawn shrugs. "Having sex with fans isn't about just getting pussy. It's about fucking someone who really, truly wants it. The type of girl who wants to please you and will let you do anything that you tell her to. Suck your cock. Lick your balls. Take it in the ass. My life changed the day a girl licked my ass for the first time." "Amen," Cameron says drunkenly, raising a freshly opened beer can in salute. Justin smiles. "Cameron here knows what I'm talking about." "Hell yeah. Getting your ass licked is like getting two blowjobs at the same time." Troye's eyes narrow in judgment, reflecting on the brainless comment. Shawn shrugs. "I'm just not sure how I feel about having a girl's mouth down there. I don't think I would want to kiss her if she had her mouth on my ass, and kissing is one of the best parts about sex. It's intimate." Justin rolls his eyes. "Like I said, you're a faggot, Mendes. No offense, Troye." Troye shrugs, acknowledging the comment with eye contact. Justin continues: "The best sex isn't about intimacy. It's about fucking the shit out of someone. Owning them." "I enjoy my time with women, Justin. I just prefer treating them with respect," Shawn replies. Justin is annoyed by Shawn's attitude. He can't quite place the anger; in reality, it is something more than simple insecurity. At one point in the past, people thought of Justin Bieber as the authentic heartthrob, incorruptible, pure, back when he released his first few singles as a kid. Of course, they never really knew him, because he was never innocent. Lost his virginity a few months after entering the business and never looked back. But they had that image of him. Now, people thought of him as a douche and looked at Shawn the same way they used to look at him, the ladies' man, assuming he was innocent, but Justin knows better than most that there is no such innocence for men like him and Shawn. He's also mildly irritated by the fact that the tour organizers placed them all in the same suite. The suite was outlandish, had more than enough room for each of them, including the two visitors, but it was the principle of the matter. He should have his own suite. Then again, he couldn't complain too much, thinking about the big picture. Shawn Mendes was the most successful new teen idol, having hailed from Ontario, just as he did, and produced what could now be safely referred to as a string of radio hits. Stack on top of that his looks, legions of obsessed fans, and the romance rumors about him and Selena, and you are left with Justin Bieber's archnemesis. Thus, landing him as an opening act is a reprieve, a clarification of the male teen idol hierarchy. After quiet rumination, Justin renews his pursuit of the conversation. "What about you guys?" Justin asks, looking towards Cameron and Nash. "Ever fuck a fan?" "Maybe one, or two...or ten," Cameron replies, placing a hand on the back of an invisible girl positioned doggystyle in front of him and drilling her. Nash joins in on the action, claiming the girl's mouth. Justin beams. "What about you Troye? I'm assuming you have lots of boy fans to fuck." "Maybe," Troye replies, joining the conversation at last with a devious wink. "My man," Justin laughs. "Hey, I've got nothing to hide. I love dick," he states with a suggestive lick of his lips. I'm just not much of a bottom," he adds. "Bottom?" Shawn questions as a glazed look streaks across his face. "The bottom is the guy who takes the cock and the top is the one who gives it," Troye says simply. "No shit? I would have figured you would be the one on your knees taking the dick, Sivan. You just have that look. No offense," Bieber adds with a wink. "None taken. After all, I could say the same about you, Justin. I'm sure I'm not the only who notices that you seem to like flashing your ass to every photographer that will take picture," Troye responds with a second suggestive licking of lips. Cameron and Nash reestablish their presence with a loud snicker at Justin's expense. "Fuck you," Justin croaks. "I bet you've spent some time thinking about my ass." "Hell yeah, why deny it?" Troye shrugs. Justin smirks in satisfaction, before continuing. "So how does it work, anyway? I'm assuming that the guy with the smaller dick is the bottom? That's how it should work, at least. The dude with the smaller dick should be taking it in the ass and mouth from the dude with the bigger one," Justin reasons. "It works like that sometimes, but not always. Some guys just love taking cock up their ass," Troye explains. "Is that true, Mendes? Do you just love taking cock up the ass?" Bieber taunts, redirecting the conversation yet again to Shawn. "Suck it, Bieber. Anyway, I'm headed to bed," Shawn yawns. He stands up from the couch and lifts his hands above his head to stretch. His black t-shirt lifts enough to reveal the lower half of his torso, a fully developed six pack and the waistband of some Calvin Klein boxer briefs, framed by a muscular V. Justin scans his exposed body briefly, but his eyes retreat just before Shawn finishes the stretch. "What the hell, man," Cameron complains. "We fly all the way here, and you're going to bed at midnight?" "Dude, I'm beat. You should should go out with Justin and Troye, though. Have some fun."