Sucker

Copyright November 24, 2002-March 10, 2006 by Matthew Haldeman-Time

Rating: NC-17 for graphic male-male sex

Pairings: Backstreet Boys/*NSYNC/O-Town

Disclaimer: The young men who comprise the Backstreet Boys, *NSYNC, and O-Town 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.

Continued from part seventy-three

            A chaste kiss as JC ushered him into the house.  “Hi, honey.”

            “It smells great in here,” Erik said, glancing towards the dozens of bouquets Howie had sent, which JC had distributed more evenly through the house.  “Listen, uh…”  He grinned at JC.  “Go in your room and don’t come out until I say so.”

            JC laughed.  “Again?  What is it this time?  Boxes of truffles?”

            “I’m not going to tell you what it is.  That ruins the whole point of the surprise.”  Erik gave JC a gentle push towards the bedroom.  “Give me a couple minutes to get it all set up.”

            “Erik, you…”  JC’s voice was softer now.  “You should tell Howie that he doesn’t have to keep doing this.  It’s not-”

            “He’s doing it because he wants to, because he loves you,” Erik said.  It wasn’t even worth pointing out that JC could talk to Howie perfectly damned well without using Erik as a go-between.

            A quiet sigh, then a fond, resigned smile.  “All right.”  JC took a second to scratch his temple.  “Did you tell him what I said?”

            “I did,” Erik said.  “We can talk about that in a minute, but I want to get this set up first.”

            “Okay.”  Curiosity flickered across JC’s face.  “Is it-”

            “I’m not going to tell you!”

            Relenting, laughing, JC went to his room.

            Erik grinned, then hurried back outside.

            After first Brian and then Howie, Justin had no idea what to expect from Nick.  He eyed Nick warily, staying close by the front door.  He wished that AJ had come in with him.

            Nick looked bored, ruffling his hair with one hand.  “Kevin sent you?”

            “I have something to tell you.”

            Nick shrugged with one shoulder, shifting his weight.  “So say it.  I have shit to do.”

            He’d already said it to Brian and Howie.  He could say it to Nick.  After Nick was just AJ, and then it would be over.  “I love you.”

            Nick snorted.  “What the fuck is this?”

He pushed on.  “I love you, Nick, and I respect you, and I promise that I always will.  I’m giving myself to you and pledging myself to you and promising to love, honor, and obey.  I live for you, like I live for Kevin.”  He raised his shirt and tugged down his pants, exposing his tattoo.  “This is a sign, so that I’ll always remember.”

            “Let me get this straight.”  Nick took a step forward, studying him.  “You’re mine.”

            “Yes.”  Almost over, it was almost over, he was almost finished.

            “And you’re going to do whatever I say.”

            “Yes.”  Nick was an ass, but Justin didn’t care.  Nick couldn’t say anything worse than what Kevin had been saying to him for years.

            “Did Kevin punish you?”

            Nick knew, too.  Who else knew?  “Yes.”

            “Good.  I want to see it.”  Nick smirked.  “Take your clothes off.”

            The food came; Lance had ordered perfectly.  As they ate, they talked about JC’s gifts from Howie, about Chris passing out, about Justin and Kevin.

            “Alone?” Lance repeated sharply, stunned.  “In a house?”

            “It sounds like Kevin showed up and whisked him off to the suburbs,” Joey said.  “He was so happy about it he was practically spinning in place.”

            “Do you know what a bad idea that is?” Lance asked, his voice low, his eyes angry.

            “I tried to explain it to him,” Joey said.  “He got pissed at me for raining on his parade.  Then he accused me of treating Ashley the way Kevin treats him.”

            “What?”  Lance shook his head, dismissing the idea.  “That’s completely different.  That makes about as much sense as - - not that I expect Justin to be rational when it comes to Kevin.”  With a sigh, Lance refocused his gaze on Joey.  “I don’t know what Kevin’s up to, but I’m sure it’s not good for Justin.  What can we do about it?”

            “Talking Justin out of seeing Kevin isn’t going to work.  Talking Kevin out of seeing Justin…”  Joey let his voice trail off; he wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence.

            “Is worth a shot,” Lance said, surprising him.  “And even if we can’t talk Justin out of seeing Kevin, we can still keep an eye on him, stay in contact, check up on him more often than we’ve been doing.  How’s he dealing with everything else?”

            “He’s out of his mind from missing Dan.”

            “Okay.”  Joey watched Lance process that information.  “What about AJ?”

            “Everything looks okay,” Joey said.  “They seem…close.”  He didn’t want to go there.

            “I’ll talk to Kevin,” Lance said.  “And I’ll talk to AJ about Dan.”

            Joey wanted to volunteer to talk to AJ himself, but since the point was to talk about Dan, he had to admit that it made for sense for someone less personally invested in the subject to have that conversation.  He didn’t want to volunteer to talk to Kevin, since he wasn’t sure he could do it without losing his temper and trying to take the motherfucker out, but, “Maybe I should talk to Kevin.  You two…rub each other the wrong way.”

            Lance almost rolled his eyes in disgust.  “He’s a controlling, abusive, pompous megalomaniac.  He doesn’t like me because I don’t kiss his ass.”

            “He likes JC,” Joey remembered.  “Maybe- ”

            “I don’t trust JC to push the point,” Lance said.  It was the first time Joey had ever heard Lance put the words “I don’t trust JC” together.  “Besides, this way, when Justin finds out about it, he’ll only feel betrayed by one of us, not two of us.”

            Lance was right; Justin was going to see any interference as a real betrayal.  Emotionally, Joey understood; he’d take out anyone who discouraged AJ from seeing him.  But Justin wasn’t safe around Kevin.  They couldn’t let Kevin continue to see Justin without at least attempting to stop it.

            “I’ll let you know how it goes,” Lance said.

            Joey envied Lance the visit to AJ, but he didn’t think that either AJ or Kevin would appreciate Lance’s unsolicited opinions.  “Good luck.”

            It sounded like Erik was in the dining room, maybe.  There had been a bunch of walking back and forth through the front door, then the sound of boxes being opened?  What was he doing?

            JC stopping biting his nails and went to the bathroom to check his hair.  He wondered how Howie had reacted to the message he’d sent through Erik.  It had been carefully worded to cover both their reality and their fantasy.  Of course Howie would have picked up on that, but what had Howie thought of it?

            He wanted to call Nick.  None of this meant anything in comparison with Nick.  Howie, Erik, the game, his confusion, it was all meaningless - - or would be, if he were in Nick’s arms.  But he wasn’t.  And this was the reality that he had to deal with.

            A quick rap, and the door opened.  “Howie sent something for you.”

            JC made himself smile, pretended to care.  “Did he?”

            “Yeah.”  Erik grinned.  “It’s in the dining room.”

            Feigning interest and anticipation, JC followed Erik there.  There was no elaborate display; no colorful bounty overflowed the room.

            But there was a major difference.  His wine rack, the one positioned neatly in the corner of the room.  It had a twin.  And both of them were full.

            The original rack had a thirty-bottle capacity.  That morning, it had held about a dozen bottles.  Now, JC had sixty.

            “Oh…”  He couldn’t believe that Howie had done this.  The wine alone must have cost a fortune.  He knew, without looking, that those bottles weren’t cheap.  And where in the world had Howie found an exact match to his existing rack?

            “Don’t drink it all at once,” Erik said.

            With a sudden, helpless laugh, JC stepped forward, walking over to the racks.  He pulled out one bottle, read the label, and heard himself laugh again.  He tried another bottle, another, another.  “God, Howie…”  This was insane.  “He can’t…”

            “You deserve the best,” Erik said.

            Too much, this was too much.  Running his hand back through his hair, JC stared at the racks, exhaling slowly.  He spent money on his friends and lovers, and he didn’t mind if they returned the favor.  And it wasn’t like Howie couldn’t afford it.  But this was becoming too extravagant.

            Was this really for the game?

            Or was this for a different game?  A game played just between the two of them?

            “You okay?” Erik asked.

            “Yeah.”

            “If you aren’t sure what to do with it, you could share some of it with Howie,” Erik suggested.

            Share some of it with Howie.  JC felt a pleased smile spread across his face.  Share it with Howie.  Sitting down with Howie, opening a bottle of wine.  Drinking together over dinner.  By candlelight.  Before making love.  He could…almost…

            Giving himself a mental shake, JC turned away from the wine racks.  As he did so, something caught his eye.  There, on the table, stood one more bottle, dressed with a bow.  With it, an envelope and a small jewelry box.

            “It’s tradition, now,” Erik said.  “Go ahead.”

            With a deep breath, not knowing what to brace himself for, JC opened the envelope, slipping out the letter.

            I could live forever in the light from your eyes.  I could live forever in the warmth of your skin.  I could live forever in the feel of your embrace.  I could live forever in you.

            I could love forever…

            Licking his lips, looking away, JC passed the letter over to Erik.

            “Wow.”  Erik coughed.  “Are you sure you want to keep playing hard-to-get?  Because I think that there are a couple million people who’d love to have someone write stuff like this to them.  I mean, I thought that this shit was only for girls, but this, I don’t know, I wouldn’t mind getting something like this.”

            “I’m not playing hard-to-get.”  JC failed to keep the flash of fire from his eyes.  “I’ve-”

            “I know,” Erik said quickly.

            “If you don’t-”

            “No, I know, I know.  I’m sorry, I just meant, you know…  You can’t take this for granted, JC.  Howie’s in love with you and he’s trying really hard to be with you again, and-”

            “You think that I’m not grateful?” JC asked.  “You think that I don’t appreciate this?”  He knew that he should stop himself but he couldn’t.  “I know, better than anyone, that none of this has to happen.  My lover doesn’t have to give me anything.  My boyfriend doesn’t have to send me any gifts whatsoever.  I could be in love with someone who not only doesn’t give me anything, he doesn’t even fucking love me back.  Doesn’t answer my calls, doesn’t let me visit, doesn’t give a fuck about me.  Or, spends time with me, fucks me, lets me love him but treats me like shit.  I know how special it is to care about someone who cares about me back.  I know how special it is to be with someone who treats me well.  I know how fucking amazing it is to be loved.  I would never take that lightly.”

            He’d gotten too intense, too vehement; Erik was staring at him strangely, probably wondering why he’d overreacted and how to smuggle the sharp knives out of the house.

            Shit.  “I’m sorry, honey.”  JC ran his hand over his face, sighing, letting his shoulders drop.  “I didn’t mean - - it’s been hard, without Howie.  I didn’t…”

            “It’s okay,” Erik said carefully, forgiving.  “I know this has been rough on both of you.”

            “I miss him,” JC said.  That was true enough.  “It’s hard to do this without him.”

            “Hard to do what without him?”

            JC laughed.  “Everything, right now.  I need him…more than I wanted to admit.”

            “He needs you, too.”

            Did he?  Did Howie need him?  To carry out the plan, yes, but for more than that?  For moral support?  Not for strategizing.  Howie was good at this, better than he was, always steps ahead.  He’d tried to work on that, but he still had doubts, concerns, oversights.  When would he ever be on Howie’s level?

            Two more items remained on the table.  The jewelry box, and the bottle of wine.

            “He wants you to open it today,” Erik said.

            JC checked the label and felt his eyes widen.  “No, honey, I can’t - - this should be saved for a special occasion.  I can’t-”

            “Howie thought that you’d say that.”  Erik grinned.  “That’s why he gave you two.”

            JC owed Howie some money.  He picked up the jewelry box.  “I’m almost afraid to look.”

“I think it’s really cool,” Erik said.  “You’ll like it.”

Oddly, that relaxed him.  It took some of the pressure off; Erik’s tone suggested that this gift didn’t quite match the wine in price.  JC opened the box.

Perfect.  It was perfect.  Polished yet earthy and utterly unique.  Beautifully cut sardonyx with a black, woven band.  JC loved it so much he wished he’d owned it for years.

“You like it?” Erik asked.

            “I’m jealous of myself for having it,” JC admitted with a laugh, slipping the bracelet over his hand.  It fit just so around his wrist.  “It’s perfect.”  He could already see himself wearing it everywhere.

            “Howie said that it’s your birthstone,” Erik said.  “Yours and his.”

            “It is,” JC remembered.  That made the bracelet even more of a tie to Howie.  And that put the pressure right back on.

            After drumming his fingers on his steering wheel for a minute at the stoplight, Lance decided to see Kevin first.

            At the next stoplight, he dialed.

            “Hello.”

            “It’s Lance.  There’s something we need to talk about, and I’d rather do it in person.”

            “I’m at home.”  Kevin’s voice gave him nothing - - no emotion, but not enough of a lack of emotion to be called on it.

            “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

            “I’ll see you then.”  Kevin hung up.

            Lance hung up.  His other hand was clenched too tightly around the steering wheel.

            Memories came to him - - Justin pale, gray, twitching, shaken, broken.

            “Son-of-a-bitch,” he whispered to himself, stepping down too hard on the gas.

            Part of Justin wanted to punch Nick and run.  Part of him wanted to cower and beg.  But he didn’t have the luxury of either of those reactions.  He did as he’d been told; he stripped.

            Nick laughed.  “He gets better and better every time.”  A careless smack to his ass lit Justin’s tender skin on fire, bringing tears to his eyes.  “It was nice of Kevin to share with the rest of us.”  Another few smacks; Justin barely held back a scream.  “I guess you are more my type than sweetness is, but I don’t know…”  Nick wandered around in front of him, twisting his nipples painfully hard.  “You’re kind of low-class.”

            This was different from Brian, a lot different.  There was more of an overt threat here.  Nick wasn’t even pretending to be friendly.

            A quick snort.  “Is that your dick?”

            Heat burned Justin’s cheeks.

            “I guess you work with what you were given, but - - or maybe you don’t.  Maybe you’re such a bottom boy, all you ever do is take it and suck it.  You could at least have something worth paying attention to.  What do you use yours for, anyway?  To play with all alone when Kevin’s not around?”

            Justin tried not to react.  He could do this.  He could take this.  He’d been insulted before.  If he let Nick get to him, it would only get worse.

            Nick moved around behind him again.  Justin couldn’t stand having Nick out of his line of sight.  “Kevin has Chris now.  And I hear Chris knows what he’s doing in bed.  You wouldn’t think it, looking at him, but apparently he gives great head.”  A few more smacks on the ass, heedless of the marks Kevin’s whip had left.  “What the hell do Kevin and AJ do with you?  There’s nothing to fuck back here.”  Cupping, squeezing, pinching; Justin tried not to howl, tears leaking from his eyes.  “I couldn’t do shit with this.  At least Joey gives me something to hold onto.”  One brutal smack and Justin cried out, knees buckling under the blow’s pain; he dropped to the floor, his flesh on fire.

            “If only the world could see you now.”  Another snort.  Nick circled him.  On hands and knees, Justin breathed through the agony.  “Chris shows up and Trevor’s in the picture and all of a sudden Kevin’s whoring you out to his friends.  Must make you feel pretty good about yourself.”
            No.  No, no, that wasn’t what this was, that wasn’t - - Kevin wasn’t doing that, Kevin wouldn’t…

            Betrayal screamed through Justin’s veins.  Blinding and white-hot, it refused to be denied.  Kevin was whoring him out.  Kevin was passing him around.  Brian hadn’t molested him against his will; Brian had taken what he’d offered, what Kevin had offered.  Howie hadn’t been interested, but Nick…

            Slowly, fearfully, Justin raised his eyes.

            Nick smirked.  “Looks like you could do some interesting things for me from down there.”

            “Hey,” AJ said, gaze flickering to the front of Nick’s house.

            “Lance is on his way to my house,” Kevin said in his ear.  “Why?”

            “Hell if I know.  Sounds to me like he doesn’t have enough to do so he’s starting drama to keep himself occupied.  Brian should give him something to do.”

            “Brian would give him something to do if he could be trusted to do it.”

            AJ grunted, conceding the point.  “Howie doesn’t keep a tight enough leash on him.”

            “Howie is amused by his antics.”  It didn’t sound like Kevin was nearly as entertained.

            “You want to hear how Justin’s doing?”

            “You’ll tell me later.  A complete waste of my time just drove up.”

            “I’ll call you.”

            “Bye.”

            AJ hung up.  He considered calling Howie but decided to let Kevin do it.  His gaze wandered to Nick’s front door again.

            “Should we open the wine now?” JC suggested as they sat on the sofa.

            “No, I don’t - - I think you should save it for yourself,” Erik said.  If he and JC were going to go ahead with that they’d agreed on yesterday, he wanted to be sober this time.  Probably.

            “Drink alone?” JC asked.

            “Pamper yourself,” Erik said.  “Have a bath, drink some wine, think about what Howie would do if he were there with you.”

            “Honey, if I get lonely, liquored up, and horny, you might get a late night call from me,” JC said.

            Surprised, he laughed.  “I’m okay with that.”

            An amused, knowing smile from JC.  “I thought that you might be.”

            He wanted to kiss JC, but first he had to take care of something else.  “I told Howie what you said.  About how you felt.”

            Immediately, interest filled JC’s eyes.  “What did he say?”

            “He said…”  His own skin warm from the memory of Howie’s touch, Erik cupped JC’s chin in both hands, fingers stroking carefully along JC’s jaw.  JC’s eyes weren’t just blue; they held dozens of flecks of other colors, grays, greens, golds right there in the center.  JC was uniquely beautiful, and gazing into his eyes, Erik found it frighteningly easy to give Howie’s words voice.  “I love you, JC.”

            JC’s expression became quiet yet attentive; his eyes scanned Erik’s face for clues.

            Remembering the caress of Howie’s hands, Erik stroked JC’s cheeks, temples, tucking soft strands of hair behind JC’s ears.  Howie’s gentle, intimate tone entered his voice.  “I was arrogant enough to believe that you wouldn’t affect me this way.  I was blind enough to think that I could be with you without losing myself in you.”

            JC’s small smile surprised him; JC took his hand, squeezed it, kissed it, released it.

            Fascinated fingers stroking the hollows beneath JC’s gorgeously arched cheekbones, Erik leaned in closer, drawn in by the memory of Howie’s mesmerizing gaze.  “I fell in love with you before I knew where my heart was headed,” he said, tracing the seductive lines of JC’s mouth.  “I told myself that it was lust, infatuation, confusion, a crush.  But there’s more than sex between us, JC.”  His voice softened.  “And the way I feel is anything but temporary.”

            “Honey,” JC whispered, but there was a faint trace of resistance in JC’s voice; he wanted to believe, but couldn’t let it happen.

            Eyes closing, Erik touched his lips to JC’s.  Remembering the delicate press of Howie’s kiss, he lingered there just until JC responded; then he drew away, the backs of his fingers stroking down JC’s neck.  “I love you, JC.”  Another kiss, and then another, the rhythm of Howie’s kisses echoed in each sweet caress.  “I’m ready to fight for us.”  He met JC’s eyes, remembering the loving determination in Howie’s gaze, feeling it enter his own.  “Even if I have to fight you to do it.”

            Justin came out of Nick’s house bleached white and shaking.  He started to cry before the car reached the end of Nick’s driveway, and he sobbed the whole way home.

            When they got to his house, he went straight up to his bed and kept on crying.  AJ got him out of his clothes, cursing at the sight of the enflamed skin on his ass.  Nick didn’t always like to play nicely.  AJ rubbed him down, confiscated the phones, and left him there.

            The speech was classic Howie, eloquent with a seductive delivery.

            Even though Howie hadn’t been in the room, he’d been all over that speech.  The words were obviously Howie’s, but so were the touches, the kisses, the soul-gazes.  Even the tone of voice had been Howie’s; JC didn’t think that Erik had been aware of how much sex and adoration had been tangled around each word.

            Even though he hadn’t been face-to-face with Howie, this had been the next best thing.  All of the right lines, with all of the right touches.  It was just what he’d needed to hear.  He couldn’t deny his heart’s reaction; still, JC resisted.  If he was going to be tempted to believe that there could be more between them, it wasn’t going to happen with Erik acting on Howie’s behalf.  It was going to happen when Howie was right in front of him, without Erik anywhere nearby to confuse reality with the game.

            Since this current moment was a part of the game, JC embraced Erik and gave him a few warm kisses and acted generally affected.  Not in the mood to come up with an official reaction message for Erik to take back to Howie, JC did more kissing than talking, and after a few minutes of that, he’d been pushed back against the armrest and Erik was raising up his shirt, stroking his ribcage with fascinated hands, soft tongue rubbing over his nipples and swirling across his skin like he was candy.  “Erik,” JC said, shuddering as a quick pulse of arousal flashed through him.  “Honey…”  Over Erik’s head, his gaze went to the corner where the video camera recorded each move.  If they were going to do this, did he want to do it here?  Wouldn’t it look better on the bed?  He’d intended to rim Erik in his bedroom, where the camera angle would ensure a better visual.

            “Too fast?” Erik guessed, coming to his mouth for a kiss, hands sliding down to his hips and back to cup his ass.

            JC broke away from their kiss with a quick moan, blinking.  He’d forgotten that he’d taught Erik’s tongue to do that.  He wasn’t used to anyone but Nick making his spine vibrate like that.  “Not too fast, I just think-”  He shuddered, toes curling, as Erik kissed his neck, soft warm kisses that teased his flesh and made his heart beat faster.  “Maybe we should go to,” he groaned as Erik’s hard-on rocked against his, making his asshole contract greedily, “my bedroom.”

            “We could fuck here,” Erik murmured against his skin, licking up to his earlobe, sucking gently.  Erik’s hands were warm on his body; Erik’s thumbs stroked over his nipples, rubbing softly until JC twisted, groaning, his fingers digging into Erik’s back.  “Right here,” Erik whispered, “just like this.”

            That was, god, scarily tempting.  Moaning, JC slid his hands under Erik’s shirt, muscles tensing as Erik opened his fly.  Apparently Erik tended to fuck girls who didn’t do a lot in bed, because Erik seemed content to do most if not all of the work.  Lying there simply being acted upon had never appealed to JC before, since he liked to control the action, but then Erik’s hands were pulling his jeans and underwear down and warm fingers were skimming back behind JC’s balls and there was teasing pressure right there and, oh, god, was he whimpering?

            “Come on,” Erik whispered, kissing his ear, fingers circling his asshole, rubbing over it, making JC’s muscles spasm.  “You’re so beautiful,” Erik whispered, and somewhere in the back of JC’s mind was the idea that this was what Erik said to girls in bed.  He wanted to laugh except all that came out was a pleading groan.  “Come on,” Erik whispered, coaxing, kissing, teasing, “give it to me.”

            JC didn’t even know what Erik meant by that, since there wasn’t much more JC could offer at the moment; but despite that, he felt his body surrender, felt his thighs spread further, felt his spine arch, felt his muscles relax, felt himself do everything but issue an engraved invitation.  And Erik was murmuring sex things against his neck and kissing him there, and one slick finger was easing its way into his body, and where in hell had Erik found lube?  But JC’s brain couldn’t be consumed with stupid questions while his body was consumed by need, and the way Erik was stroking and arousing and opening him was making him buck and arch and moan like it hurt, which it didn’t, but maybe it did.  And it wasn’t possible that Erik was arousing him, since he was already on fire, but each new caress wakened another layer of awareness in his body, sent up new flames flickering across what had used to be his mind.

            When Erik kissed him, JC latched on hungrily, taking Erik’s mouth for his own.  Then he felt a second finger slide into him, and he really was whimpering.  Whimpering, groaning, moaning, grunting, making anguished noises he couldn’t control.  Writhing, bucking, his hips riding out terrible waves of need, he clutched Erik’s shirt in both hands, needing to anchor himself to something, anything, as he was taken over by carnality that couldn’t be appeased.

            Fingers stroked and Erik’s tongue traced the curve of his ear and his body clenched and fingers stroked and he couldn’t breathe and fingers stroked and his body spasmed and he was coming, coming, coming, crying out as his mind splintered and cum jetted over his abs.

            Panting, eyes closed, JC felt raw, overexposed, oversensitive, emotionally much more than physically.  He didn’t want to feel that way, not now, didn’t want to be that vulnerable to Erik.  He wanted to push Erik away, but he couldn’t afford to do that.  And he was still on-camera, still performing, still had to put on a good show.  Catching his breath, he tried to pull himself together.  Opening his eyes, he busied himself with tugging his shirt down and his pants up, if not closed, before sweeping one hand through his hair and meeting Erik’s eyes.

            Erik was sitting back, eyeing him with a mixture of awe and hunger.  “You okay?”

JC smiled as his next line occurred to him.  “I’m more than okay, honey.”  Smoothly leaning forward, he gave Erik a slow, simple kiss.  “But don’t think that you can distract me with fabulous sex that easily.”  He kissed Erik again, sitting back with a smile.  “We both know what we agreed to do today, and I don’t think that you should get to fuck me until I get to enjoy you.”

            Erik’s expression was confused for a moment, then cleared as memory broke through.  “You’re going to make me wait until - - but you got yours,” he protested.

            “I certainly did,” JC agreed with a smile and a kiss.  “Thank you.”

            “That’s not fair.  We can - - can’t we just do this first?”  Erik gathered him closer, almost right into Erik’s lap; JC allowed it, wrapping his arms around Erik’s shoulders, letting Erik kiss him coaxingly.  “It’ll be good,” Erik promised, hands already sliding under JC’s clothes again.  “And then we can do whatever you want.  I’m a lot more cooperative after I’ve already come.”

            Chuckling, JC stroked Erik’s hair, gently easing himself closer until he could subtly grind right against Erik’s erection.  Mmm, that felt good.  Erik seemed to like it, too, judging from that overwhelmed groan and the way Erik’s grip suddenly tightened.  “I don’t know, honey,” JC murmured, like he wasn’t seconds away from getting Erik off.  “I think that it’ll be better if we wait.  You might like it better if you’re already excited.”

            “I…  I…  Oh, god,” Erik moaned, giving up on conversation.  Breathing hard, groaning incoherently, he let JC nibble at his lips.

            “Maybe we should take this to my bed,” JC murmured, fingers finding the tiny nubs of Erik’s already hardened nipples beneath his shirt.  JC was rolling his hips so slowly, so subtly, that it kept Erik right on the verge of orgasm, promising without delivering.  He refused to provide the extra little bit of friction that Erik desperately needed.

            Turning an interesting shade of red, trying in vain to pull JC closer, Erik groaned in plea and protest.  “I…uh…J…”

            “Mmm…”  JC gave him one last, light kiss and stood, slipping free.  “Come on, we’ll have more room on the bed.”  Holding out one hand, JC waited with a smile.

            Curling forward onto himself, Erik groaned.  “I hate you.”

            Amused, JC stroked Erik’s back, waiting.

            A few unhappy noises, a few suffering sounds, and Erik put out a hand, letting JC pull him to his feet.  “Is this punishment for something, or do you just like yanking guys’ chains?”

            Smiling, JC drew Erik towards the bedroom.  “I just like to have a little fun.”

            When AJ got upstairs, he set the tray on the deserted bed, then sighed.  “Justin.”

            No answer.

            AJ’s expression darkened.  “Justin,” he said firmly.

            The bathroom door opened.  Pale, wiping sweat from his face with his hands, Justin avoided AJ’s eyes.  “Sorry.  I’ll clean it up.”

            “Eat something.”  AJ gave him a nudge towards the bed and stepped to the bathroom doorway.  Broken glass littered the sink and the floor.  The mirror was gone.  “Nice.”

            “Sorry.”  Taking a sandwich, Justin settled onto the bed, wincing as he arranged himself carefully for minimum discomfort.

            “You okay?” AJ asked, sitting near him.

            “Kevin’s whoring me out to his friends.”  Justin’s hands shook as he picked at the crust of his sandwich.  “I didn’t even realize that until Nick told me right to my face.  I don’t want to keep going, I want to stop it now, but what’s the point?  I made it through the first three steps.  The only thing I have left to do is give myself to you, and once that’s done, I’ll get to see Kevin again.  He’s making me offer myself to his friends and I still want to be with him.”

            “Pretty sick,” AJ said.

            “I want to ask him why.”  Justin had yet to meet his eyes.  “I want to ask him why he’d do this to me.  But I won’t like his answer.  It’ll just hurt more.”

            “Sounds like you’ve been doing some thinking.”

            “You said yesterday that Brian’s possessive.”  Justin’s hands were shaking too much to hold his sandwich; he set it down, balling his hands into fists to control the tremors.

            “He is.” 

            Justin licked his lips.  “Are you possessive of Joey?”

            AJ shrugged.  “It makes my life easier if he thinks of me as number one.”

            Justin’s voice was cracked, vulnerable.  “How would you feel about sharing him with the other guys?”

            “Nick’s fucking him on a daily basis.  Do I seem to have a problem with that?”

            A flicker in Justin’s gaze.  “Do you?”

            “I don’t care where Joey gets it from, as long as he’s where I want him to be when I want him there.  The rest of the time, he can do whatever he wants.  And Nick, whatever is mine is Nick’s.”

            “Whatever is Kevin’s is yours?”

            “That’s how it works.”

            “If you…wanted Chris, you could have him and Brian wouldn’t care?”

            “Brian understands that I have needs.  If I wanted Lance, I could have him.”

            Justin didn’t seem to like that answer.  He looked down at his plate, blinking a few times.  He rubbed his forehead.  He looked unhappy.  Then he asked, “Would Brian care if someone hurt Chris?”

            “Absolutely.”  Although “care” could cover a lot of reactions.

            Surprised, Justin almost made eye contact.  “Kevin didn’t care when you hurt me.  Why would Brian care about Chris?”

            “Because Brian doesn’t hate Chris.”

            Flinching, Justin looked down again.

            Erik’d had a lot of sexual fantasies over the years, some more kinky than others, some less probable than others.  Like the one about Rachel Keller from his English lit. class, and the one about the girl in Burger King, and the one about Britney coming into the dressing room when none of the other guys were around.

            Lately, his sexual fantasies had a lot fewer breasts and a lot more Howie and JC.

            Lately, his sex life was so damned hot and so damned busy, he didn’t even need fantasies.

            But this, this was a fantasy.  This was one of those fantasies that fucked him hard and left him for dead, made him come in his pants and left him dizzy and trembling for hours afterward.  He hadn’t felt this hot and overwhelmed and knotted up and ready to be used as someone else’s sexual slave since - - since - - ever.

            And the best part, the most stunning part, was that JC hadn’t even batted an eyelash.  JC was all over him, taking a random yet methodical extremely intimate tour of his body, kissing, stroking, licking, caressing, sucking, nibbling, murmuring things that made him blush, things that made him hard.  JC wasn’t just everywhere; JC was slow about it, lingering, revisiting, like the inside of his elbow and the center of his back and his right thumb and his left nipple were equally, incredibly fascinating.

            His calf had never been an erogenous zone, before.  Hell, every inch of him was an erogenous zone, now, and every time JC breathed out and the exhalation crossed his flesh, he was just that closer to coming.

            JC was perfectly damned casual about it, like this was a normal way to pass the afternoon, like seducing him out of his own body was an everyday thing.  And maybe it was, for JC, but Erik had never had sex like this, and losing his mind was a more and more likely possibility.  Why couldn’t he just come already?

            He’d tried to get himself off, which was why he was now handcuffed to the headboard.  Only one wrist was cuffed, so he could roll over whenever JC needed him to.  The feel of the soft leather closing around him hadn’t sent electricity crackling up his spine as much as JC’s tenderly whispered, “Don’t worry, honey, I’ll make you love it.”  And he did love it, he did, he loved everything about it: being helpless to JC’s whim, being left to JC’s mercy, being JC’s even temporarily.

            His other hand was trapped in JC’s hand.  JC kept hold of his hand no matter which position they were in or which inch of skin JC happened to be making love to.  No matter where else JC’s attention was, JC’s hand was on his hand, that constant point of connection tethering his sanity just as the handcuffs tethered his body to the bed.  JC stroked his fingers, caressed his knuckles, mapped his palm, teased, squeezed, ever so lightly scratched.  Sometimes all of JC’s attention turned to his hand, and JC kissed his palm, and he slid his fingers into JC’s mouth, and feeling that, watching it, made him want to fuck JC until this burning need died out.

            He kept forgetting what they were actually in bed together to do.  JC had already crossed forbidden territory a few times, fingers gently stroking across his asshole before moving on.  He wasn’t quite used to the sensation; it still made him hot and tense and squirmy and anxious.  But it was somewhat more familiar now.  And each time it happened, he wished that it would last longer.  Which was either a good sign, or a really bad one.

            Licking sweat from Erik’s chest, JC ran his fingertips across the top of one thigh.  A subtly coaxing nudge indicated JC’s desire that Erik roll over.  Summoning his strength and rediscovering his motor skills, Erik moved onto his stomach, groaning as his erection pushed into the mattress beneath him.

            “Ssshhh.”  JC brushed too-light kisses over his nape, free hand ghosting down his back.  “Not yet, honey.”  More kisses, slower now, down his spine.  JC’s fingers skimmed the cleft of his ass, making him tense, making him wonder.  “You don’t want to waste it on the bed when I’m right here.”

            He couldn’t keep waiting, he couldn’t keep hurting like this, he was so close and everything felt so right and his dick was furious with him and god, not now, not now, JC had to suck on his balls now?  Gripping JC’s hand too hard, jerking on fistfuls of sheet with his other hand, Erik squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing his forehead against the bed, whispering something he couldn’t hear over the pounding of his own blood.  And then JC’s tongue was traveling up from his balls, pausing at that too-good spot before licking, oh god, oh god, oh god…

            Tired of watching Justin twitch and fumble the sandwich, AJ asked, “Is there anything else you want to eat, or would you rather sulk?”

            One shoulder jerked; Justin winced, rubbing his forehead, getting to his feet.  “I, I, AJ…”

            “God, not this,” AJ groaned to himself, sighing.

            “AJ, I - - I love you, and-”

            “No, you don’t,” AJ said tiredly.

            “I love you,” Justin insisted, “and I respect you-”

            AJ snorted.

            “-and I, I…”  Losing the words, Justin rubbed at his eyes with both hands, wincing again.  “I…I promise that…I…”  One hand dropped, fingers twitching.  He tried to begin again.  “AJ, I love - - I love - - I-”  Cutting himself off with a whimper, he choked, knees beginning to buckle.

            “God damn it,” AJ muttered, hurrying to him, catching his elbows, supporting his weight.  “You don’t have to do this now.”

            Stupidly, stubbornly determined to finish it, Justin said, “I promise-”

            “You don’t promise shit,” AJ said, both hands pushing against Justin’s chest to keep him upright.  “Out of your fucking mind,” he muttered.  “You want to do this?” he asked, looking into Justin’s eyes.  “You want to go through with this?”

            “I can still feel their hands on me,” Justin whispered.

            “Can’t even follow his own fucking conversation,” AJ muttered.  “Are we doing this or not?” he demanded.  “Now?  Later?  Today?  Tomorrow? ”

            “Now,” Justin said, sucking in unsteady breaths.  “I have to do it now, I have to-”

            “I know, I know,” AJ said.  “Then let’s get it done so you won’t have it blocking up your head all night.”  Momentarily stepping away from Justin, he found the remote, turning on the stereo in the corner.  He flipped a few stations until he found something quiet, slow, and soothing.  “Is that better?” he asked, running his fingers across Justin’s forehead.  “That’s better,” he decided, watching Justin’s eyes flicker.  “Stand here, hold onto me, close your eyes.”

            Obeying, Justin made a miserable sound against AJ’s shoulder.

            AJ sighed, hands gently stroking Justin’s ribcage.  “Don’t cry on me.”  Justin sniffled, arms tightening around him.  AJ waited, moving slowly with the music, until Justin seemed calmer.  “We’ll do it the easy way,” AJ said, lightly caressing his nape.  “Repeat after me.  AJ, I love you…”

            Justin’s voice was breath-soft; his fingers moved agitatedly over AJ’s back.  “AJ, I love you.”

            “…and I respect you…”

            “And I respect you.”  Justin pressed his face to AJ’s neck, biting his lips.

            “…and I promise that I always will.”

            A moment of silence as Justin’s breathing struggled, then, “And I promise that I always will.”

            “Want to keep going?” AJ asked.

            Justin’s hands crawled up AJ’s back, under his shirt.  “Yes.”

            “I meant to ask you - - why’d you save me for last?” AJ asked.

            Soft laugh, almost a sob.  “Because you’d be easiest.”

            “Hunh.”  Made sense.  “What comes next?”

            “I’m…”  Justin rubbed his nose against AJ’s neck, nails digging in briefly at the base of AJ’s spine.  “I’m giving myself to you and…”  Hot tears leaked down onto AJ’s collar.

            “You don’t listen to shit I say,” AJ said.

            Justin flinched in his embrace, began to pull away.  “I’m sorry, AJ,” he whispered, looking down, wiping away the traitorous tears.  “I’m sor-”

            “I’m not going to fucking beat you,” AJ said, exasperated, holding onto his forearms before he backed up too far.  “I’m not in the mood.  But either finish this or lay down.”

            Conflicted, Justin hesitated, not sure where to look.

            AJ hissed.  “What.  Do you want.  To do?” he asked clearly, impatiently.

            “I - - I’m sorry, AJ,” Justin said quietly, hesitantly pressing back into his embrace.  “I’m sorry.”

            Groaning, AJ rested his hands on Justin’s hips, careful to avoid the lash marks on his back.  “You’re such a fucking handful.  Joey doesn’t give me shit like this.  You’re all over the damned map.”

            “I’m sorry, AJ,” Justin whispered, chastised.  He sniffled, trying not to cry.

            “Just breathe,” AJ said.  “Close your eyes, listen to the music, and stop thinking.”

            Another few sniffs.  Justin’s fingers wandered into AJ’s hair.  Over AJ’s shoulder.  Down AJ’s back.

            A few minutes later, AJ realized that Justin was very discreetly trying to tease up the hem of his shirt.  Not sure what that was about, he waited to find out.

            Once AJ’s shirt was up a few inches, Justin carefully closed the gap between their bodies, touching his own naked flesh to AJ’s newly exposed skin.  He let out a small sigh at the contact, fingers stroking along AJ’s waist to bare more skin.  Seconds later, Justin began to relax in small but noticeable ways, tension draining bit by bit.

            “Better?” AJ asked quietly by his ear, swaying to the music.

            “I’m giving myself to you,” Justin said just as softly, fingers crawling across his skin.  “And pledging myself to you.”  Slow, too-even breath.  “And promising to love, honor, and obey.  I live for you, like I live for Kevin.”  Carefully, Justin’s hand found AJ’s hand, easing it down Justin’s chest, over Justin’s hip, finding the tattoo without a glance.  “This is a sign,” he whispered, pressing AJ’s fingers to it, “so that I’ll always remember.”

            “Good boy,” AJ murmured, smoothing his hair.  “Good for you.”  A tender kiss to Justin’s cheek.  “You can go ahead and cry now.”

            Justin’s very next breath was interrupted by a breaking sob, and he clung to AJ as he wept.  Coming to a stop as the music continued, AJ sighed, stroking Justin’s chest and stomach and hair as Justin shook against him.

            “You completed your assignment,” AJ said.  “You promised yourself to all four of us.  And you did it all in one day, so, I’d say, not bad.  You weren’t that enthusiastic about it, so I’d have to knock off some points for that, but at least you got through it.”

            Justin tried to burrow inside AJ’s skin.

            “I know,” AJ said, fingers wandering absently back to Justin’s tattoo.  “It’s rough being you.  No one understands you, no one appreciates you, no one knows what it’s like.  The only source of light in this whole horrible world is Kevin.”

            Justin made a muffled sound against AJ’s neck.

            “And Dan,” AJ corrected himself.  “Sir Daniel, Justin’s white knight.  Someday he’ll come to save you from all of this, he’ll unlock you from the tower, and then we’ll all be sorry.”  AJ snorted.

            “He loves me,” Justin said, face tucked against AJ’s shoulder, hands slowly but surely undressing AJ to get at more flesh.

            “Do you want to talk about Sir Daniel?” AJ asked.  It would get Justin to calm down before his hungry hands rubbed off all of AJ’s skin.

            The subtlest catch in Justin’s breath; when he raised his head, the eyes he turned to AJ were red and wet.  “Can-”

            “We’re not,” AJ paused to let that negative sink in, “calling him.  But we can talk about him as much as you want.”

            “He’s so strong,” Justin said.  “You’d never be able to break him.  He’s strong and he’s generous and his heart’s so big and-”

            “I couldn’t break him?” AJ asked.  “Justin,” his fingers slid along Justin’s jaw as he smiled dangerously, “I can break anyone I want.”

            “You couldn’t break Joey,” Justin said.  “You-”

            “You,” AJ said, and his smile became sharper, and his painted nails dug into the soft skin of Justin’s face, “don’t know what I did to Joey.  You’ve never,” Justin tried to pull away but couldn’t, “had a clue.  And Joey,” AJ’s voice darkened, “got off easy.”  AJ hissed.  “Your little boyfriend?”

            Justin’s eyes were huge and scared.

            “Won’t.”

Continue on to part seventy-five

matthew@matthewtime.com
"Sucker"
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