banner by Vanessa
Somebody, a sequel to "Experience"
Copyright January 11-12, 2005 by Matthew Haldeman-Time
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Chris Kirkpatrick/Benji Madden, Lance Bass/Joel Madden
Disclaimer: The young men who comprise *NSYNC
and Good Charlotte are their own people.
The author has not met anyone here described, nor does the author mean
to suggest that these people act this way in real life. This writing
is a work of fiction. I make no money from this venture.
banner by Vanessa
The meeting seemed to be winding down. JC was getting up to leave, Lance was on the phone, Justin and Joey were making plans to meet up later. Chris decided that he could probably make his own escape.
By the time Chris had said good-bye to JC, and Joey, and Justin, Lance was off of the phone and standing to one side, looking generally hesitant. “You leaving?”
“Yeah,” Chris said. “That’s what that round of good-byes was for.” He jingled his keys, watching Lance’s expression not change. “Did you want something?”
“Are you going to see Benji?”
“Yeah,” Chris said. “Thought I’d try to get laid.” He jingled his keys some more. “You can come. Not to watch me have sex, but you could hang out.”
“Hey, can we go watch you have sex?” Justin asked from the sofa.
“That’s a hell of a lot better than what I had planned for today,” Joey said. “I’ll spring for the lube.”
“No,” Lance said to Chris, ignoring Justin and Joey. “No, I have…somewhere to be.”
“Okay,” Chris said. He turned to Justin and Joey. “Let’s go.”
As it turned out, Justin and Joey were cowards and fools, and backed out of their offer. So Chris went to see Benji by himself. Getting out of the car, he checked his breath and rang the doorbell.
Benji opened the door. “Hey.”
Chris nodded. “Hey.”
Benji grinned at him. “You want to come in?”
Chris shrugged. “Why not?” He stepped inside, and Benji closed the door. “Joey and Justin were going to come, to watch us have sex, but they backed out.”
Benji snorted. “Cowards.”
“That’s what I said.”
Benji tipped his head to one side. “You want to tape it for them?”
Chris grinned. “I look good on film.”
Chris’s problem was that he was an inciter. In any given situation, he was never the one with common sense, slowing things down, calling a halt to the proceedings. He was always egging everybody on.
One of the fun things about Benji was that Benji wasn’t one of the sensible, “maybe we shouldn’t” people, either. Neither Chris nor Benji was one of the reasonable people when cooler heads prevailed. So if they came up with something to do, neither one of them was ever willing to be the one backing out. In fact, they both tended to come up with ways to make the situation even more interesting.
Two hours after showing up at the house, Chris was sitting beside Benji on the sofa, watching himself onscreen.
“My dick looks huge,” Benji said.
“The camera adds ten pounds,” Chris said.
“To all of the right places,” Benji said, handing over his bandanna.
Chris twisted Benji’s bandanna
around his fingers, watching Benji start sucking his dick. “Wish we could’ve
zoomed in on that.”
“We need somebody to work the camera next time,” Benji said.
Chris had never seen himself get head before. He was starting to get hard again, watching it, remembering what it had felt like to have his dick in Benji’s mouth. Onscreen, he was making a lot of weird noises and sort of twisting on the bed. “Do I always make those faces?”
“I’m not usually looking at your face when I’m sucking you off,” Benji said. “You look like that when I’m fucking you.”
Chris leaned closer to Benji, dropping the bandanna, twisting his fingers in the neckline of Benji’s shirt instead. He watched himself get head, watched himself writhe, watched his hands wander in restless agitation, watched his dick disappear into Benji’s mouth. He listened to himself moan; he was saying a lot of pointless things, like “oh god, Benji, oh god, Benji” and “yes, yes, oh god, yes.” Benji’s shoulders were under his thighs, and Benji’s fist was wrapped around his dick, and Benji’s head was bobbing up and down, and Chris remembered what that had felt like, the rhythm of it and the suction of it, the way Benji’s tongue had swirled around the crown.
Benji glanced at him. “Are you getting off on this?”
Chris put his hand over Benji’s mouth, gaze intent on the screen. This wasn’t the time for pointless conversation; his onscreen self had an orgasm to get to, and he wasn’t going to be distracted.
TV-Chris groaned Benji’s name and some assorted curses, raising his knees higher, raking his fingernails down his own thighs. His left thigh blocked the action, and Chris shifted on the sofa in vain, trying to see. TV-Chris reached down with both hands, and Chris remembered rubbing Benji’s hair, wishing desperately that he could hold on and fuck. But Benji had trained him very well not to hold onto either hair or ears during blowjobs, through a careful application of teeth on dick.
The moment playing out onscreen had been teeth-free. All soft wet mouth, wicked suction, Benji’s throat muscles, swallowing, sucking, swallowing. Chris twisted Benji’s shirt collar in one hand, taking his other hand from Benji’s mouth and putting it over his own dick, aching in sympathy with his onscreen self. He watched himself, knowing what was about to happen, tensing in anticipation of it.
“Pervert,” Benji said, but pushed his hand aside and rubbed his dick for him, cupping and squeezing. Chris groaned, and TV-Chris groaned even louder, and Chris groaned louder than that, and TV-Chris was making urgent crazy sounds, coming and twitching and clawing at his own thighs.
He was going to have to cut his nails again.
Benji licked his ear, which made him shiver and tug on the fabric he had twisted around his fingers. Onscreen, Benji was stroking his stomach and kissing the scratches on his thighs. “Maybe next time we can tie each other up,” Benji said, squeezing his dick and licking at his ear again.
Chris swallowed, wanting to turn his head and kiss Benji’s mouth but afraid to take his gaze from the action onscreen, pressing thickly into Benji’s hand and watching TV-Chris moan and stroke Benji’s hair. “Handcuffs or scarves?” he asked with what he could find of his voice, letting go of Benji’s shirt and stroking Benji’s hair, sharing the experience with TV-Chris. He’d never tied Benji up, and he hadn’t been tied up in years, but now that Benji had brought it up, they were going to have to do it, because they both had a severe inability to back down from a challenge.
Benji was kissing his cheek, sucking on his jaw, nibbling on it a little. “I bet you have handcuffs.”
He did, actually. Two pairs of them. Nothing fancy, just regular handcuffs. He hoped that JC still had the keys. “Yeah.” Benji was starting to open his fly, and he was starting to rub Benji’s nape while Benji’s mouth sucked his neck, and TV-Chris was kissing the hell out of TV-Benji, the two of them tangled together on the bed, patches of pale skin, patches of tattooed color. “Can I fuck you?”
“Not here,” Benji said, working Chris’s hard-on out of his underwear. Benji licked his palm before wrapping it around Chris’s dick, jacking it matter-of-factly while he sucked harder on Chris’s neck. “You sound hot when you come.”
Benji was trying to leave a hickey, Chris knew it, Benji liked to mark him. Onscreen, he was stroking Benji’s side while Benji leaned off of the bed to locate the lube. On the sofa, he scratched his fingers through Benji’s hair, watching himself raise his legs. “Fuck me.”
Benji turned his head to glance at the TV, then nuzzled Chris’s neck and said, “Pervert.”
The feeling of Benji’s hand stroking and pulling and squeezing his dick was in direct contrast to seeing Benji’s fingers disappear between his legs onscreen. “I think I’m going to come,” Chris realized.
“Not on the sofa,” Benji said, and slid down to the carpet, kneeling between his legs. Chris immediately lifted his hand from Benji’s hair, pushing his fists into the sofa cushions, trying not to come - - whoa! - - at the first hint of Benji’s mouth on his dick. His body was close to orgasm, hovering on the brink of it, but his mind was on the screen, his attention captivated by the image of Benji’s body over his, their bodies hooking onto each other and joining, Benji’s groan, “Oh, yeah, oh yeah,” his own soft, “Oh, yes, fuck me.”
Benji was fucking him.
Benji was sucking him.
Benji was thrusting in, out, in, out…
Benji was sucking, up, down, up, down…
Chris moaned.
In, out, in, out, in, out…
Up, down, up, down, up, down…
Chris groaned, searching for somewhere to put his hands.
The hardness pumping into him, filling him, setting off those shocks of pleasure.
The wet heat swallowing him, moving over him, licking over him, humming around him.
His hands moved, restless, agitated, seeking. His body was holding back, but the pleasure was pushing nearer, closer, forcing him to the edge-
-in out up down in out up down in up out down in up out down-
-and over. Chris cried out, his body finding its release. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been suppressing until the pleasure exploded from him, and he had to fight to come back down, gasping for a quick breath. God. Chris blinked, refocusing his gaze on the screen.
Benji was still fucking him. Chris-
Two hands cupped his face, dragging him in for a kiss. His mouth was filled with Benji, Benji’s kiss, Benji’s tongue, the taste of his own cum. He closed his eyes, kissing back. He could still hear himself being fucked, could hear flesh on flesh and the slight creak of the bed and Benji’s soft panting growl and his own weirdly high, breathy moans.
Benji pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, keeping his attention, and grinned. “One. Two. Three. Four. Fi-”
Chris’s gaze flickered past Benji to the TV.
“Ha!” Benji kissed him. “Couldn’t go five full seconds, could you?”
“You don’t want to look at it?” Chris asked, still watching himself get fucked. The way Benji was pounding into him, the way his body was straining, the way Benji’s hands were moving over his flesh, the way his moans shuddered out of him, the way their bodies locked into place…
“I’d rather look at what’s right in front of me,” Benji said, fingers skimming Chris’s chin. Chris’s gaze flickered back to Benji’s face in time to see Benji smile at him. It made him feel weird inside when Benji gave him that smile, it made his stomach warm. Benji’s eyes were soft and amused and full of affection, and that made Chris’s heart feel mushy and vulnerable. He tried to cover it by kissing Benji, his hand stroking across Benji’s shoulder and-
Door, footsteps, noise. “Hey, Benj!”
Benji was up and moving, snatching the tape from the VCR and changing the channel while Chris tried to zip up without injuring himself. In point zero five seconds or less, they were casually side-by-side on the sofa, channel-surfing, Benji tying on his bandanna. “What’s up?” Benji called.
“Hey.” Joel appeared in the doorway. “What’s up?”
“Hey,” Chris said. Benji’s legs were arranged to hide his hard-on from Joel’s view, but noticing that made Chris want to touch it. He probably should’ve had that thought a few minutes earlier.
“How’s…everything?” Joel asked, scratching his temple.
He seemed to be asking Chris, so Chris said, “Okay.”
“Great.” Joel nodded. “Okay.” He nodded again, and moved on.
Chris flipped channels.
“He’s been weird,” Benji said.
“Yeah,” Chris said. He’d noticed. “You want me to get you off?”
“Yeah,” Benji said.
Chris got Benji off, and tucked the videotape away to take home later. He and Benji and Joel hung around the kitchen talking for a while, and then Joel went to call somebody, and Chris and Benji decided to play Full Range Combat for a while.
Chris kicked ass, which was only as it should have been. He relaxed on the sofa, basking in the glory of his victory, while Benji told him he sucked.
“Hey.” Joel was in the doorway again, pulling on a jacket. “I’m heading out,” he told Benji.
Benji waved good-bye.
“Later,” Joel said to Chris. “Say, uh… Say hi to the guys for me.” He left.
Chris challenged Benji to a rematch. Benji agreed, and they started playing.
“He’s been weird,” Benji said.
That was the second time that Benji had said it, so Chris said, “Yeah. Lance has, too.”
They played for another few minutes.
“I haven’t seen Lance around, lately,” Benji said.
“He asked how Joel was doing a few times,” Chris said. “I haven’t seen them together in a while.”
“Yeah.”
Silence, except for the sound of the game.
“Did Lance stop calling here?” Chris asked.
“Yeah,” Benji said. “I think Joel stopped calling him first.”
Chris wondered what Joel’s problem was. Lance was obviously interested. For a few weeks there, Lance had been almost stupidly happy, walking around like he was the hottest thing on earth, laughing a lot. Chris hadn’t seen Lance that happy in a long time.
“He’s never been able to pull off a relationship with anybody,” Benji said. “He’s too fucked up.”
Benji was kind of fucked up, too, but Chris decided not to mention it.
“He should come with a manual or something,” Benji said. “Dating Joel for Dummies. People who haven’t been where he’s been don’t know what they’re dealing with, so when he fucks up and sabotages shit, they don’t know what to do.”
“You could write the manual,” Chris suggested.
“It’d probably help if somebody talked to Lance,” Benji said.
“Somebody?” Chris asked, watching the game.
“Yeah,” Benji said, talking towards the screen. “Somebody who knows Joel. Somebody who knows about money issues and abandonment issues and daddy issues.”
“Yeah,” Chris said, and that was the end of that conversation.
Chris got out of Benji’s bed the next morning and went to see Lance.
When Chris went back to see Benji that evening, he took Lance with him. Chris would’ve had trouble coming up with a more unlikely pair than Lance and Benji, but they had a lot of things in common, like Chris and Joel, so conversation went okay.
When they heard Joel’s, “Hey, Benj!” Lance kind of tensed. Not a lot, just enough for Chris to notice it. Chris kicked him while Benji called, “What’s up?”
Joel must have seen Lance’s car in the driveway, so when he reached the doorway, he didn’t look surprised. “Hey.” His gaze skittered past Lance to Chris, then went right back to Lance and stayed there, like he couldn’t not look. “What’s up?”
“Not much,” Chris said. “We were talking about getting something to eat. Barbecuing up a mess of carrots. Some thick slabs of celery. You interested?” He didn’t get vegetarians. He’d been hanging out with these guys forever now, and he still had no idea what they ate.
Joel glanced at Benji. For what, Chris didn’t know. Whatever Benji transmitted telepathically made Joel relax slightly. “Yeah,” Joel said. He looked at Lance again. “You staying?”
“Yeah,” Lance said. His voice was casual, but his eyes were sending “I want you to fuck you” signals. Chris kicked him for the hell of it.
After dinner, while Chris and Benji were in the middle of their five hundred eighty-ninth argument on whether meatless burgers deserved to be called burgers at all, Joel and Lance left the kitchen together.
Ten minutes later, Chris and Benji found Joel and Lance making out in the hallway.
“My place?” Chris asked.
“Does your videocamera work?” Benji asked.
Chris knew that he probably wasn’t supposed to be turned on by that question. “Yeah.”
“You know where your handcuffs are?” Benji asked.
“Yeah,” Chris said. “I don’t have the keys, though.”
Benji grinned. “That should make things interesting.”