The Shirt
The shirt was soaked in sweat and clung to JC's chest. The silk seemed almost liquid and Lance wanted to touch it, to see if his fingers could dip below its surface to the skin underneath. JC was oblivious as he pulled at the shirt, lifting it away from his body. Turning to Lance he smiled at the blush on Lance's cheeks. Of course, Lance thought, he only thinks I'm all excited from the song, from all the dancing they had done so far. But then JC licked his lips, tongue stopping for a staccato of a second with eyes locked on Lance's.
Lance's last thought before the next song started was 'Oh shit, I forgot the lyrics.'
"Lance," Chris said as he grabbed a water bottle from the bus fridge, "Is it time for us to send you back to boy band boot camp or did I not get the memo that we're supposed to perform 'Up Against the Wall' in pantomime?"
No, Lance thought, not going to get baited and upset. Going to be calm and collected. "Fuck you, Chris." Yes, mature Lance quick with the witty repartee.
Joey snorted off in the corner, "You were absolutely brilliant man, the way you shimmied as we shaked...and then the stumble combined with the shuffle, you da man!"
Justin brushed past Lance and sat down next to Joey on the couch, "Yeah, I was hoping that I could have you in my first video, y'know, maybe even have you do the choreography." Justin leaned over Joey and grabbed one of the bottled waters. Twisting the cap off he grinned crazily up at Lance who was glaring down, hands clenching tightly.
"Funny, so funny."
"Yeah, and able to string more words together than you." Justin said after taking a swig of his water. "And when the hell are you going to take off your headset? Doesn't whatsername collect those after we get off the stage?"
"Yvette, her name is Yvette." Lance answered tersely.
"Whatever her name is," Justin said, "Why do you still have yours on even though we've been done for like ages?"
Chris perked up but then leaned back against the wall, "Man, I had something funny to say and then it went 'pfft!'"
"Thank god for the little miracles." Lance said disgustedly as he tossed his headset on an empty chair. "Are you guys done or do I have to wait for the collective brain to form another brilliant cutdown?"
Joey waved his hand, inadvertently spilling some of Justin's water, "No, I think we're done. But we do get bored easily and might need you around in case we need something new to mock."
"Who's mocking who?" JC asked as he walked in. Lance had had enough and stomped off to his bunk.
His bunk light was off and though the window was tinted the streetlamps from the parking lot cast the small space in a bluish tint. Half-light, shadows deep and fascinating. JC would've made a comment on how it made him feel. Lance could care less. He had promised himself not to get worked up over JC ever again. Not like JC was ever going to...fuck, he wasn't going to go there.
Lance toed off his shoes, one falling out from his bunk into the hallway with a satisfying thud. Angrily he mentally kicked himself that he was the one to tell JC all those years ago that if the band were to stay together it would be for the best to only be friends. At least that's what he thinks he said, or implied. Maybe punching JC for trying to kiss him was a combo of harsh and not quite getting the point across in a clear and concise manner.
Didn't take long for JC to pretend nothing had happened. Perhaps it flittered out of his head during a long night of writing songs or he was just doing his duty as one of the older guys. Whatever the case within a month he was joking around with the occasional cautious glance after an inadvertent touch against Lance.
Now it was all back for Lance, the longing and the lust. Maybe they were on the road too much and Lance was getting cabin fever and instead of wanting to eat his cabin-mates he wanted to...yeah, great, he was delving into a twisted soft-core porno fantasy again.
His thoughts stopped as the curtain was pushed aside. Chris. Great.
"Hey man, aren't you the one always saying a clean bus is a..."
"Shut it, Kirkpatrick." Lance spat out as he shoved his other shoe off the edge of his bunk. Chris made a face as it fell on his foot.
"Geez, Lance. Can we be more of a drama queen?" Without warning Chris pulled Lance until he toppled out of the bunk, landing hard on the side of one foot.
"Fuck! What'd you do that for?" His foot wasn't really hurt but Lance rubbed at it, wincing. Take that, you heartless motherfucker.
"Oh for crying out loud, would you stop with the drama?"
Standing up straight, Lance stared hard at Chris, "Have no clue what you're talking about."
"We were only teasing you, you know that, right?" Chris' expression went soft and concerned. "It's not like anyone else noticed and if they did I'm sure the stage-lights blinded them so they couldn't really tell you were off. We all fuck up, well, not as bad as you did tonight."
"Thanks, you really cheered me up. Looks like your next career will be motivational speaker." Eyes down, Lance bit his tongue, he hated when he lashed out with the sarcasm but Chris really wasn't helping.
"Fuck, Bass. This is me trying, can you pretend it's working?" Chris tentatively patted Lance on the shoulder, "We all know you've got it hot for JC again so, um, go for it." And then Chris was quickly walking back to the front of the bus.
Openmouthed, Lance watched as Chris wished spoke quietly with the other guys then headed to the second bus with Justin.
"Shit," Lance muttered and then climbed into his bunk to mope.
He was well on his way to a good wringing of hands and gnashing of teeth over the night's stupidity when the curtain opened once more.
"Joey, to what do I owe this unwanted intrusion?"
"Damn, Chris said that the amazing Sarcastoboy was back but I didn't believe him." Leaning his forearms Joey's on the bunk, Joey's face was inches from Lance's. Lance slid back. Nothing like a post-show Joey to clear one's sinuses.
There was a too-long silence as the two men stared at each other.
"What?" Lance asked irritably. Joey started to grin. God, how irritating that grin was to Lance. "Spit it out! What's on your mind, you here to also give me advice, guess as to why I fucked up tonight? What?"
"I know why you fucked up, you just won't admit it." The smile grew larger as Joey leaned his head against the headboard side of the bunk. "It's so cute."
"No, it's not." Since when has Lance squeaked? Not since Germany. Great, next he'll be getting zits and having wet dreams.
"Whatever, I'm off to the other bus. I'd offer to be Jesse Jackson to your two rival countries but...I'm tired, I just want to sleep." Big Fatone smile, "Woah, I can't believe I said that, me, tired. Getting old, Bass, getting so old." He patted Lance's knee, "Sorta like you and your vow of band celibacy."
"Wha?" Another squeak, great, he really was regressing. "But, you're bunked here, not there." Almost pleading, if pleading were characterized by voice cracking.
"Whatever, gonna crash on the couch over there, done it before." Stumbling tiredly, Joey walked away, faintly Lance could hear him wish JC good night.
Lance fidgeted. If the curtain opened once more it could only be one person. Well three, but he hadn't heard Chris come back on the bus and the bus driver was now busily driving. So it would have to be JC. Lance didn't want to face JC in an enclosed space. That got Lance to thinking that the whole bus is an enclosed space and how he wouldn't be able to escape JC until the morning. But he had to get up pretty soon, out of nerves, he had drunk almost a gallon of water.
Listening carefully he peeked out from his bunk. No one, no JC, not even a mouse. Lance slid down softly from his bed and quietly made his way to the bathroom. He closed the door before turning on the light and then stood there in front of the mirror. He couldn't see much as he had his forehead up against the glass. >From this angle all he could see was his nose. It looked distorted and kinda cool and...
With a grunt he leaned away from the mirror. This was ridiculous he was starting to think like JC. Next he was going to write a song about his nose, 'My Nose, Up Against the Wall'. Snorting softly to himself at his own joke he finished with the toilet and without thinking flushed. Lance hadn't meant to do that, the last thing he wanted to do was wake JC.
At the door he listened. Again nothing. JC slept through everything. Lance should've remembered that.
Lance pulled himself up to his bunk and then shrieked as a hand grabbed his shoulder, stopping him. I'm a manly man Lance thought with a grimace as he turned around to face a groggy JC.
"Hey." They said simultaneously.
JC rubbed at his eyes with his free hand, his other still on Lance's shoulder. Lance waited for JC to say something but JC was busy contorting his face with a yawn.
Impatiently Lance removed JC's hand.
Another yawn from JC and then Lance had to struggle not to yawn back. He would've but it was starting to nag him that JC still hadn't said a word beyond the 'hey'. Still repressing an impending yawn Lance finally broke the silence, "Was there something you wanted?"
Confusion mixed with the tiredness and JC shook his head, "No, no. Not wanting anything. Well, sort've. I just..." He blinked a few times at Lance, then put his hand back on Lance's shoulder, his thumb rubbing lightly against Lance's T-shirt. Silence.
"Uh, JC?"
"Yeah?" Fingers now kneading, thumb pressing and not pressing Lance's collarbone. Lance was getting off on it like he was an awestruck, easily aroused virgin again.
Lance had to blink in JC fashion, "What are you doing?"
JC pulled his hand away, "I was, uh, comforting you? Today. You zoned out. On stage. I wanted to say something. Now, not then just now but..." fidgeting, JC gesticulated, one hand lazily pointing over his shoulder. Lance knew it was JC's way of indicating the past. "I worried Justin was going to do his usual, chew you out, y'know?"
With a sigh Lance leaned back against his bunk, careful to cross his legs. "He didn't. Much." More silence. "Well, if that's all?" He waited what seemed an eternity and then JC nodded.
"Yeah, uh, good night, Lance." Yet JC was still standing there and then he wasn't standing there. He was up in Lance's face. "The shirt." He said a little too loudly, as if it was the answer to everything.
Lance laughed nervously, "Okaaaay. What about the shirt?" He tried to back away. Any closer and JC would have a surprise.
Hands again. Ok, before there was just the one but now there was a matching set and they were doing things to Lance's chest. They were fondling him. Lance squirmed, hot and bothered and still not getting any answers. "Fuck it, JC, what are you doing and what's this about a shirt?"
Lance pushed JC back. JC swayed away and then back, hands now lower. Lance couldn't quite be sure if he moaned as JC's one hand slid down even further. He was, however, pretty sure he squeaked out JC's name when fingers went under his sleep-pants.
The fingers stopped their descent. "What?" JC asked petulantly.
There was a cloud in Lance's head, a big sugary cloud obscuring all thought but within that cloud was one word. "Shirt?"
A bright light went on in JC's eyes, or so Lance thought, as it was rather dim in the back of the bus with only the little lights along the floor. With a contented murmur JC started to pull off Lance's T-shirt.
Reason and curiosity were now front and center in Lance's brain...right behind desire, which whined as Lance stopped JC's hands. "What did you mean by 'Shirt' a minute ago?"
"Oh," JC said with a smile as he diligently tried to pull the fabric of Lance's T up. "I was going to ask you if you wanted mine." With a smirk he leaned down and kissed at the bit of bare Lance chest he was able to expose.
"Wh-what?" Lance asked with a shudder as JC's tongue licked at Lance's fingers thereby causing them to let go of the T-shirt. "W-why would I want your shirt?"
A lick up to one of Lance's nipples and JC bit lightly, teeth barely touching. "The one I wore today, when you lost it, y'know, your concentration. The silk one. That shirt." Wet tongue circled Lance's other nipple and worked on it until it was hard.
Lance's knees started vibrating and any minute he was going to have to sit down or else his legs would turn to mush.
"You really seemed to like that shirt." JC whispered the minute he stood up straight. Where JC had licked Lance's chest the wet trail was quickly getting cold and Lance pushed against the warmth of JC. "I was hoping," JC asked with a soft breath against Lance's ear, "if I could maybe, just maybe, tie your hands with that shirt, keep your hands away as I...touch you, lick you, fuck you?"
"Fu-uck." Was all Lance could shudder as he bucked against JC, his hardness rubbing against JC's.
"I just have one question," and then JC licked behind Lance's ear, his tongue going over the soft spot between ear and neck slowly, "if I kiss you would you promise not to punch me in the gut this time?"
"Fuck, yes, anything." Lance answered with a hitch. "Hang on, that made no sense. I mean, yes, I won't punch you. Yes, the shirt. Tie me." He was embarrassed to admit that he didn't mind it when his voice cracked.
The silk shirt was around Lance's wrists, his wrists behind his back and he was barely able to stand as JC explored him with fingers, with tongue and with the occasional brush of curly hair. Lance wanted to bring his hands forward and rest them on JC's head, run his fingers through all those curls. But he couldn't. Instead he strained with the desire, pleasure doubled by inability and resistance. He thought he heard the fabric tear a bit.
"This is it," a murmur, JC's mouth worked against Lance's hipbone, "This is what I always wanted to feel and taste." Tongue swiped down from the jut of bone on Lance's hip to the lower point that v'd down.
"Shit." This was more than 'it' for Lance. He shifted his groin forward, low moan as JC pushed Lance's pants down. The thin cotton already slightly wet from tongue and an already wet cock.
JC looked up at Lance. JC all sexual joy, Lance lost in sensation. Lance bit his lower lip as JC started to lick at Lance's cock while still looking up. JC's eyes blinking in slow feline pleasure. Then JC opened his mouth and started sucking on Lance, tongue lathing as lips worked a slow pressure.
Sensation seemed to be triple the norm as JC sucked. Lance pulled at the silk shirt binding his wrists, arms straining as he began to feel the increased pressure in his cock. Fuck, soon, almost going to happen, he wanted to warn JC. Instead he moaned JC's name as JC pressed gently behind his balls. Then JC began a low, deep vibration back in his throat, a throat that had Lance's cock in it and it was too late. Lance came hard. Shuddering.
There was a cry of JC's name and maybe Lance also let out a vulgarity or two. Hopefully he hadn't taken the Lord's name in vain. No, a thank you was in order for the big guy.
Lance slid down to the ground. He barely noticed scratching one arm against an indentation in the wall. JC licked his lips and smiled, sitting back from his kneeling position to rest on his heels.
"I guess now'd be a good time to get you out of that shirt."
"Huh?" Awareness was slowly coming back as Lance stared at JC confused.
"Your wrists, still in my shirt. Or, I mean my shirt is still, it's, here..." and JC leaned forward, his chest against Lance's as he freed Lance's wrists and laid the silk on Lance's lap. As he sat back Lance licked at JC's jaw and then slowly kissed swollen lips. Then JC kissed back and their tongues touched. A slow kiss.
Lance stopped and ran a hand along JC's neck, "I should do the same for you now but maybe we should move this to one of the bunks or the couch."
"No, not tonight. No need. Um...unless you really want to...because I wouldn't mind." JC stood up, pulling Lance with him.
Lance smiled, "I think I ripped your shirt, I believe I owe you whatever it's worth."
"It's a Prada."
"Damn, looks like it's going to take a lot of work before I pay that off," Lance said as he pushed JC onto the couch.