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2012-03-18
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Normally Kinky

Summary:

Sometimes JC needs something more than Chris can give him alone.

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It was an established fact that JC and Chris were together. It had taken years, Bobbie and Dani and nameless, faceless groupies before they finally gave in to the pull, but they had, and they fit. Justin could see it, wanted to write songs about it, but it seemed wrong to attach a creation with the word "girl" in it as many times as most of their stuff to what was clearly a relationship between two men, however much JC liked feathers and sparkly things. He could see it, and he didn't understand how Chris and JC together lead to nights like these, where it was not Chris and JC together but all of them, naked and horny. He didn't understand how the two of them together unleashed the simmering sexual tension between everyone in the group, let it grow into this thing that had to be expressed, but it did, and it had happened often enough now that they could all recognize the signs.

He thought maybe it had something to do with the need JC had hidden from all of them, the need to occasionally be fucked totally boneless, something it took all four of them to accomplish, because JC was the only one who ever got fucked on these nights, but that didn't explain why they touched each other while they were waiting to slide into JC, why he knew that Chris gave the best blow jobs, that Joey was the best kisser, or that Lance would purr deep in his chest like a huge cat if you bit at the corded muscle where his neck joined his shoulders. It didn't explain why thinking about it all made him so hard, when he knew Britney was the one for him.

Justin wondered about it all as he let himself into the house that JC and Chris shared- legally Chris', while JC lived in LA when they weren't working, but everyone close enough to trust knew better. He knew by the cars in the driveway that Lance and Joey were both already there. Lance was in the lounge, a cell phone pressed to his ear, and didn't even look up when Justin shut the front door and set the security system and the locks to keep everyone else out. Even the people they trusted to know about JC and Chris didn't know about this.

He hung his jacket in the hall closet and toed off his shoes, then wandered in the direction of the kitchen, looking for one of the other guys or a can of pop, whichever he came across first. Joey stopped him by the stairs, and tugged him by one wrist up the staircase and down the hallway, to the open door to the master bedroom. Justin stopped in the doorway, Joey's hand still clamped around his wrist, and stared. He had to bite his lip to keep silent. JC and Chris had obviously thought about this time, although Chris was no where to be seen. He thought perhaps the fact that he could see all of JC made up for it. The other man was naked, blindfolded, and fastened to the bed on his knees, his pale-tan skin a sharp contrast with the black leather bindings that held him and the black satin sheet on the bed.

"Remember that time in Toronto?" Joey's voice was whisper-soft in his ear. Justin nodded. Toronto was the only other time Chris and JC had brought out JC's bondage kink, JC tied that time to the weight bench in their dressing room at the venue because they were trapped by the crowds surrounding the building, and the tension was too much for any of them to stand in the post-show high. That time JC had been gagged as well, his lips stretched around a bright pink ball, and it had been hot and fast, all of them aware of the danger, the risk of being caught. Hot, but Justin had missed the sounds JC made when he was touched, when someone slid into him, when he wanted it harder or deeper, and clearly he wasn't the only one, because JC wasn't gagged now, just blindfolded and tied down and bondage had never really been Justin's thing so he wasn't sure why he found the sight of his band mate so appealing, couldn't explain the way his cock was already pushing insistently at the button-fly of what had been relatively baggy jeans.

Justin moved to turn to Joey, but arms that snaked around his waist stopped him. Joey still had his arm, so they weren't his hands sliding down, working the hem of his T-shirt loose. After a second he recognized the warmth at his back as Chris, and waited as small, strong hands caressed his abs before they slid south to work at his fly.

"I will admit, I've been playing with him a bit already. I couldn't resist. He's been alone for a while now, though. Just waiting. Go on while I get Lance." Chris was quiet, too, as if he didn't want JC to hear what was coming, and he stroked the newly exposed skin above the waistband of Justin's underpants before sliding away again. Justin stayed silent as he pulled away from Joey and moved into the bedroom, his hands almost absently unfastening the rest of the buttons at his fly before he pulled his T-shirt off and dropped it on the floor.

JC's skin glimmered slightly, and he gasped, startled, when Justin reached out and stroked along his spine with one finger, feeling the slip of oil on the soft skin. It was easy to follow the curve of his back down, into the cleft of his ass, and Justin didn't mean to, but JC's entrance was already slick with lube, so that when he pressed the pad of his finger against it, he slid in to the second knuckle, and JC made a sound that wasn't quite a whimper. Justin shushed him, stroking his other hand over a bony hip.

"It's just me, Jayce." He said, quietly.

"Justin." JC acknowledged, and pressed his hips backwards against the invader, clearly wanting more. Justin obliged, pressing in the full length of his finger, and JC was tight and hot around him still, so this was all Chris had done, slicked him up so that he was ready for all of them, and there was something thrilling about that, about Chris positioning JC and preparing him, stroking oil into his skin and lube into his ass, and Justin wondered if they'd done all of that before or after JC had been bound. He slid another finger in, twisting to stretch him more, and decided as JC gasped that it had to have been after. If he closed his eyes he could imagine how Chris would've fastened the bindings carefully, lovingly, and then left JC waiting there, naked and shivering and maybe not entirely turned on, still a little nervous about it all, while he got the oil and the lube, then calming JC with oil-slick hands until the fear was gone, the tension turned to desire. Justin knew that then Chris would've started teasing, giving JC part of what he wanted, but not all of it, because what they were doing was prelude to the act, not the act itself.

Justin knew how Chris's eyes glittered when he teased, and shivered, and opened his eyes. The broad expanse of JC's back stretched in front of him, muscles rippling and shifting under the skin as JC moved in concert with his fingers, and Justin focused on the reality of the smooth skin to keep himself from thinking about things he wasn't supposed to have noticed, like the way his band mates were fucking sexy all of the time, not just on days like this when everyone threw away the rules. JC's spine stood out against his skin, a neat ordered row of bumps just breaking the smooth plane. Justin bent over, working his fingers deeper, and traced the line of them with his tongue, the oil mixing with JC's sweat to leave a nutty salty taste in his mouth. He did it again, less carefully, and let his teeth graze JC's skin at the end of the lick. JC whimpered, and shifted against his bonds as if trying to spread his legs wider. His body was looser around Justin's fingers, but Justin's hands were big, quite a lot larger than Chris', the fingers not slender and elegant like JC or Lance's, and he hesitated a moment before pressing in the third finger that JC's body language was asking for.

It was tight, and the subtle thrusting stopped, JC frozen and, Justin assumed, concentrating on tolerating the pain until it subsided. Justin pulled his fingers out completely and looked around for the lube. There was bound to be copious quantities of the stuff- no one wanted to hurt JC, and it was always applied liberally. JC was obviously unhappy about being abandoned.

"Justin." He protested, straining against the leather straps around his thighs. Justin found a bottle of lubricant in a drawer on the bedside table, and slicked his fingers, dropping the bottle on the bed beside JC where it would be within easy reach. Two fingers slid into him easily, drawing a soft moan of happiness. The third was still tight, but JC didn't tense in pain. Justin pressed in slowly, watching as his flesh disappeared into JC, hot and slick around him. His cock knew what that felt like, too, and wanted it. He twisted his hand, and JC moaned again, the sound shaping into his name. He put his other hand on himself, gripping his erection through the cotton of his boxer-briefs, and wondered where the others were. He couldn't really start this without them, and he had to replace his fingers with his cock before JC's wordless begging convinced him to add another.

"Fuck, that's hot." Lance's voice coming from right beside him, when he'd been so focused on JC, made him jump, and his fingers jabbed deep. JC made a sound that was almost a cry.

"Shit." Justin was going to pull away, let someone else take over, but Lance was behind him, hands on his jeans, pushing them down, whispering in his ear as he eased the waistband of Justin's underpants past the obstacle of his cock.

"I bet if you tried that later, he'd just swallow your whole hand." Justin looked stupidly at his hand, imagined JC's body giving way before a fourth finger, and then the broad span of his knuckles, everything slick and wet, and had to grab himself and squeeze hard to keep from coming. Lance wasn't helping, reaching around to roll a condom onto his cock, following it up with a palmful of lube, urging him forward. It was awkward, his ankles still hobbled by his half-discarded clothes, but Lance got him into position, still whispering dirty things they could do to JC. He pulled his fingers free and waited, kneeling between JC's bound legs. Lance was in control, and Justin followed his lead, unable to think straight with those dark words and the scenes they called out of his imagination circling in his head. His hands found the bands on JC's thighs and he traced the edge of one with his fingertips. Lance had taken his deep whisper to JC's ear, a rumble Justin couldn't understand that made JC's breath come faster. Lance glanced back, pale green eyes glittering, and nodded slightly. Justin eased forward, invading JC slowly. He bent over JC's back, and could hear what Lance was actually saying.

"Does that feel good? Being taken? How do you think it would feel to have his hand pressing into you like that? To feel yourself stretching and the hard rub of his knuckles inside you? Do you remember how big his hands are? Feel mine. His are bigger." Lance was touching JC's face, cupping his chin, letting his fingers wrap around his cheek while his thumb teased his open lips, and JC was breathing hard, his inner muscles working to draw Justin in further, faster. The way JC's tongue kept darting out, trying to catch Lance's thumb was pornographically lewd, and Justin shut his eyes but the memory of the way JC felt around his fingers was there, tainted by the suggestion of more, and he opened them again, looking around wildly. He found Chris.

Chris was standing nearby, half naked himself, Joey licking at his neck, watching. His dark eyes caught Justin's attention, pulling him back from the swirl of terrifying thoughts. Justin spoke, half-whispering the word, making it into a plea he didn't even quite understand

"Chris." The older man turned away for a moment to speak quietly with Joey. Joey glanced up, his own dark eyes concerned, then nodded and moved away, towards Lance. Chris came over and Justin repeated his name. Chris made soothing noises and then his lips were on Justin's, the lingering taste of mint strong. Justin opened his mouth, let Chris hold his head steady and part his lips with his tongue to the same rhythm that Justin's hips found. It was an anchor, and Justin let go, let himself be swept into the safe pleasure of Chris's mouth and the hot sheath of JC's body. He knew somewhere on the periphery of his mind that his fingers were digging into JC too firmly, that Lance was still whispering dangerous things, but JC was still moving to meet his thrusts, and the noises he made, muffled by Lance or Joey, were only encouraging.

One of Chris's hands left his head to drift down his body, skating over sensitive spots, pausing to tease a nipple between blunt nails, stroking the fine line of hair that started low on his abdomen, following it to the wiry curls matted with sweat and lube. He could feel the brush of the back of Chris's hand still, but the fingers moved to JC, and Justin knew they were tracing around the stretched muscle of JC's ass. For a bare second he thought Chris would try to stretch him more, slide his own finger in alongside Justin's cock, and the idea made his hips buck sharply, breaking the rhythm. He and JC cried out together, both of their voices muffled, and Chris's fingers were back on him, tracing around his hip, spread over his ass to feel the muscles working as he thrust, then down further, between his legs from behind to tug gently at his balls, back again to press against the exquisitely sensitive smooth skin between his testicles and his anus, scrape delicately over it with fingernails before caressing it more firmly with the pads of his fingers in counterpoint to his thrusts, and Chris's thumb was still moving, circling his asshole, and that was wrong, too, because JC was the only one who got fucked with anything on these nights, and Justin couldn't believe how badly he wanted at that second for it to be different.

He tipped his head back, away from Chris's kiss, and said Chris's name again, unable to form any other coherent noise, and hoped Chris understood him without the words. There was a pause, Chris's hand stilling between his legs for the briefest of moments before moving again and his thumb was pushing in, Chris's teeth nipping sharply along the column of his neck, but Chris was pushing in, gently but relentlessly, barely entering him and he wanted more suddenly, desperately, but he was coming. His orgasm took him in a series of full-body tremors, his hips driving him into JC hard with each one, Chris's hand always there with him following the movement. Each thrust pulled a sharp cry from his lungs that JC matched, neither voice muffled now. As Justin shuddered a final time and sagged against Chris, he opened his eyes again, uncertain when he'd closed them, when sight had become so unimportant he simply forgot it was a sense he had, and looked for Joey and Lance. They hadn't gone far, merely abandoned JC for each other, on the bed next to JC where he'd be able to hear every wet noise as Joey licked and sucked at Lance's cock. The sight was enough to make Justin shiver, his body trying to skip any sort of recovery period even as faint aftershocks of pleasure rippled through him.

He let Chris guide him stumbling away from JC, the whimper the other man gave as he pulled free making him want to slide in again. Chris sat him on the bed next to JC and he dropped onto his back, mirroring Lance's position on JC's other side. Justin slid the used condom off his cock, still half-hard and almost painfully sensitive, while Chris quickly pulled his jeans and underpants off for him. He knotted the condom and tossed it off the side of the bed, where he thought from memory there should be a garbage bin, and watched JC.

Apart from the occasional brush as the four of them moved around him no one was touching him now, and it was clearly making JC uneasy. He shifted his weight from arm to leg to leg to arm, stretched against his bonds and dropped his head, shaking it slightly, sweat-damp curls moving limply. He shifted again, reminding Justin of a racehorse, antsy in anticipation, and it was fascinating to watch the tension build with each breath, until it formed a word.

"Please." Justin moved closer until his shoulder touched JC's wrist, and he was almost looking up at the older man, stretching out a leg to keep contact with Chris, who was still standing by the side of the bed. In the languid aftermath of his orgasm he was in control again, and he let JC wait for another long moment before speaking.

"'Please' what, Jayce?" JC shook his head again, in response this time.

"Who do you want next, Jayce? Lance? Joey? Chris?" He could see Joey pulling away from Lance and reaching for the condoms, and knew already who would be next. "Do you care, as long as someone has his cock inside you?" He reached up and wiped the sweat off JC's face. JC turned his head into the touch, and leaned his weight against Justin's shoulder.

"It must be strange, having to guess everything by sound. No warning you're going to be touched until you are." Joey put his hands on JC's hips just then, and JC tensed, startled. Justin draped one arm over his own body, cradling his cock and balls with one hand, the contact not arousing so much as comfortable. With the other hand, he pet JC, running his hand over his chest, his arms, playing with the cuffs at his wrists. He put his fingers to JC's neck, a half-collar of flesh, and considered it.

"You'd look hot with a collar. Just tight enough you could feel it pressed against you all the time." He tightened his fingers slightly, mimicking the feeling against the front of his neck, and JC gasped. He felt his own cock stir slightly against the palm of his other hand, not need, but definite interest. He moved his hand from JC's neck to gently massage the muscles in his shoulders, and watched JC's body respond to Joey.

Joey fucked like a porn movie, slow and nasty and relentlessly, holding off his own climax until he made JC give up one of his own. Justin could see JC's cock from his position on the bed, and the muscles working in Joey's thighs with each thrust. JC's erection looked painfully hard, angry red and slick, nearly dripping, with precome. Justin had a sudden flash of curiosity, wondering how it would feel to have that inside him, and the interest in his dick grew a sharper edge, dangerous. He shifted again, his legs spreading slightly with the idea, and he pressed one hesitant fingertip closer to his own hole. His skin felt hypersensitive there, the lightest touch making something inside him shiver. JC was grunting now, rhythmic noises of deep pleasure, and glancing past JC, Justin could see that Chris had taken up where Joey left off with Lance, so that Lance's own moans blended with the wet sucking, fucking sounds, and they were a porn movie, he realized suddenly, they could abandon their careers if they just filmed this, this thing that they did that was only supposed to happen in fantasy, that he knew was real because JC's wrist was hot against his shoulder, the buckle in the cuff digging in to his flesh uncomfortably. He felt dirty, until he looked up into JC's face, saw the boy he'd known on the MMC in the man's face, saw all of the emotions that chased over it, heard the million others in the noises they were making. This was love, the strange uncommon love they all had for each other, turned sexual, perhaps the only way they'd ever find to express the sheer passion of it.

He had to look away from it all, open his mouth to gasp in air because his thoughts were making it hard to breathe, and so close to JC he could taste his sweat, each time his lungs heaved to drag in necessary oxygen they pulled in some of JC too, and that made his gaze swing back to JC's cock, made him push his finger against his own ass a little more firmly, and he moved again, the leg that had been against Chris sliding on the slick satin until it fetched up against Joey. He pulsed the pressure of his finger, now resting on his hole but not pressing inside, in sync with Joey's movements, and felt again the flash of need Chris's thumb invading him had awakened.

When Joey began to talk to JC, saying things like "pretty little fucking whore", and "come for me" and "you love this, don't you, slut?", things that sounded horrible but only made JC arch and ask silently in every way he knew how for more, Justin began to whisper to JC too, quietly so that only JC could hear.

"Would you want to fuck me?" He asked, not expecting an answer so much as knowing the words would turn the other man on more. "You know, when I was inside you, Chris was inside me. Just his thumb, and I wonder how a cock would feel. Yours, or his. Would you fuck me if I asked you to? Spread my legs and slide in, and teach me how this feels for you?" JC missed a grunt, the thrust instead choking him as he tried to gasp in air and the movement jarred his lungs. He gasped again, moaned "Fuck, Justin" softly, and came, body tense, hips moving in counterpoint to Joey as he shot onto the bed, the come white and obscene on the black sheets.

Before he could think about it, his hand had left JC and he was dipping two fingers into the cooling puddle, coating them, so that when he drew back his fingertips were slick with it. He'd tasted his own, once, after overhearing Chris and Joey joking about blow jobs and swallowing, and it was as if his arm was under someone else's control, bringing his damp fingers to his lips. He licked tentatively, and it was warm and slimy but tasted of JC, sweet and musky. Joey growled, and Justin looked up to find the other man watching him intently.

"Jesus, Justin." That was the voice they all forgot Joey had, almost as deep as Lance and rough. Justin felt the blush heat his skin and pulled his fingers away from his mouth sharply, intending to wipe them on the sheet until Joey stopped him with another growl.

"JC." He was confused for a second, then realized. He lifted his fingers to JC and brushed them over his lips, offering them silently. JC's tongue came out first, tasting, and then his lips opened and Justin's fingers slipped in, JC licking and sucking at them as if trying to get every last drop. He could too easily imagine that was his cock.

"Fuck." He whispered, getting hard again now, not just mildly aroused but hard, and he looked around and Joey was still looking at him, staring now between his legs where he was touching himself, his hips bucking into the touch involuntarily. Strangely enough, in the midst of everything, that was comforting. He knew how to perform. He drew up one leg to give Joey a better view and pushed his finger the barest fraction inside, letting the moan that built arch his body as it escaped. Joey echoed his moan and thrust into JC fast, the way his head dropped back and eyes closed telling Justin that he'd lost control. Another, lower, growl turned Justin's head, and he saw Lance pushing Chris off of him, skin flushed, chest heaving as if he was angry. Chris met his eyes under the bridge of JC's body, and grinned.

"Apparently, I'm a cock tease." He stage-whispered, and Justin had to laugh, because of course Chris was a cock tease. Chris was always a tease, and if Lance had gone once with JC then maybe, but he hadn't, and should've known he was doomed to frustration. Lance was practically radiating it, pulling Joey away as soon as he'd finished, rolling the condom on and burying himself in JC in the same movement. JC bit down on Justin's fingers in surprise. Justin pulled them free, wanting to hear his noises unmuffled. Lance had frozen after that first swift slide in, clearly fighting for control, and when he started moving again they were short, sharp thrusts, nothing smooth or elegant about it. JC cried out, and whimpered, shifting against his bonds again, but his cock was swelling to full hardness again, and he wasn't saying the words to Chris that would've stopped it. Justin stopped, instead, pulling his hand away from his ass to hold his cock loosely, not ready to come but not wanting to lose the buzz of arousal. He didn't want to be distracted. He wanted to know what was happening.

Lance said, "I'm sorry, JC" and lunged in hard enough to jar JC against the restraints, drawing another cry, and Justin looked over at Chris, wondering if he was going to end it even if JC didn't ask for it, but Chris was lying on his back the way Justin was, watching JC's face, and Justin realized he'd planned this, worked Lance into the state he was in as some sort of gift, because there was no way any of them would be so rough with JC otherwise. Justin looked at Lance again, at the white-knuckled grip he had on JC's hips, the flesh bruising under his fingers, and could easily imagine Chris kissing each bruise later, soothing away the hurt. He wasn't entirely sure he understood the kind of love that let Chris let someone do that to JC, even one of them. He heard the soft whisper of Chris's voice and didn't look over, allowing them some small privacy even in this, and turned instead to Joey, who sagged onto the bed next to him and draped a companionable arm around his waist. He opened his mouth to ask Joey about it, sure that Joey would understand, but before he could speak Joey silenced him with a long, soft kiss. When he pulled away, he smiled gently.

"JC needs it, J. That's all that really matters to Chris." Justin nodded like he got it, but he didn't, not really. He couldn't imagine letting someone hurt Britney, even if it was something she wanted, and maybe that meant he didn't love her enough. He couldn't believe that, though, because it was clear they were perfect together, and he wanted to ask Joey about that, but Joey was shushing him again, turning him towards JC and Lance and Chris. Chris was still whispering, under JC's cries, and that was where Justin looked first, but Joey turned his head towards Lance.

"Look. He's beautiful when he comes." It was like Joey to notice something like that, while Justin was normally caught up in his own pleasure. Joey liked to know everyone else was having a good time as much as he liked having fun himself. He was right, too. When Lance came, his muscles tight and straining, his masks slipped away. Justin didn't hate Mr. Hollywood, not exactly. He understood the need for the masks, the protection from the rest of the world. At the same time, it was good to know that the old Lance was in there somewhere too, underneath it all.

With a final moan, Lance sagged forward, and was relaxed for a moment, before he saw his hands, still holding tight to JC's hips. He let go as if JC's skin had burned him, and Joey moved too, sitting up and reaching over to pull Lance down to them, on top of Justin, while Lance tried to stammer another apology to JC. Justin slid his arm around Lance, holding him down, and stroked his other hand over the sticky damp spikes of his hair. Joey dealt with the used condom and then began petting him too, his big hands brushing over Justin's arm occasionally.

"Lance. He loved that." Lance looked at JC to test the truth of Justin's words. JC was rock hard, dripping precome again, and still whimpering, the sound needy now that Chris had abandoned him to find his own condom and more lube. It turned to a quiet moan when Chris finally slid inside and practically wrapped himself around him, hips rocking smoothly. They moved together like they knew every inch of the other's body, like they were dancing. In Justin's head, Chris was supposed to be reaching for JC's cock, stroking it in time to his thrusts, knowing exactly how hard to hold and how fast to move. Instead, he'd wrapped both of his arms around JC's waist, pulling their bodies close, not touching JC's erection at all. As if to make up for the neglect, he was muttering nonsense phrases barely audibly, peppering his lover's upper back and shoulders with reverential openmouthed kisses and gentle nips. Justin shifted so that one of Lance's muscular thighs fell between his own, giving him something to rub up against as he watched them do what could only be described as making love.

He, more than most, and until recently he would've said more than anyone, knew how intense Chris could be if you managed to capture all of the scattered points of his attention. He could see it now, in the way Chris and JC were together, and uneasily realized that something inside him was jealous. He tipped his hips to grind his cock firmly against Lance, seeking the pleasure of the contact, wanting it to drive away the thoughts he knew he shouldn't be having, before he got lost in them, before anyone saw them. He was glad Chris was with JC now, because it gave him time to hide his thoughts, from himself and from Chris, who could always read his secrets when he choose to look. Justin thought it might be easier if he closed his eyes and thought of Britney, who was safe and comfortable, but he couldn't force himself to look away from Chris and JC, or to pretend that the heavy solid weight of Lance on top of him was anything other than male. Male, and practically purring, Justin noticed, filtering the rumbling vibrations of the bass's sub-vocalised moans out of the general mass of sensation around him. Joey had switched from petting to scratching, sweeping over the other man's back with long, light strokes of his fingernails.

He noticed too that his hips were rocking against Lance in time to Chris's thrusts, gradually increasing in speed and he made himself slow down, stop, ignoring the tight need in his stomach to thrust-fuck-come. It was too connected, and he knew he needed to stay separate from what they were being shown, accept what was offered for what it was, and not let himself take it as something more. He felt a tongue lick wetly over his neck, Lance interspersing his low noises with swipes of his tongue, and Justin wouldn't have been surprised to feel Lance's hands kneading into him. It felt very much like being pinned down by a large content cat, and that made him smile, made him want to turn to the other guys to share the joke, but Chris was making less controlled noises now, his hips moving faster but still smooth, and JC wasn't so much whimpering as almost humming, and that was funny, and perfect, because that was JC, bringing music into everything about his life.

"If I recognize Space Cowboy or Digital Getdown, I'm running, naked or not." Joey whispered, into Justin's ear, but pitched so Lance would catch it too. Lance fit a chuckle seamlessly into his purring, but Justin only smiled, not wanting to interrupt the sounds of pleasure around them with anything as harsh as his laugh. Chris called out when he came, a series of cries muffled against JC's skin. Justin thought he would pull back as soon as he could, to get rid of the condom and do whatever it was he was going to do to let JC come, but Chris only moved forward, pressing flat against JC's back to speak directly into his ear. The words were intended for JC, but Chris's voice was loud enough that Justin couldn't help but hear.

"I wish you could see yourself, Jayce. You're fucking beautiful like this, all hot and sweaty and tense with wanting. Would you come for me if I touched you? If I just kept fucking you, like this?" Chris's hips were moving every so slightly, nothing that could be called a thrust, but it was enough, because JC was whimpering again. Justin looked at JC with Chris's words tainting his thoughts, and bit back a whimper of his own. JC was rocking his hips with Chris's movements, skin flushed and damp with mingled oil and sweat. Justin raised his hand, sticky with gel from Lance's hair, and brushed JC's wet hair away from his face. JC tilted his head to rub against him, mouth opening in a gasp when Chris brushed the coarse hair of his beard over JC's spine. On top of Justin, Lance moved, his thigh pressing harder against Justin's erection, and Justin shifted uncomfortably, trying not to come. Lance moved again, arching into one of Joey's strokes, and Justin bit back a moan. Joey laughed, and pulled Lance away.

"I think you're in danger of getting very messy if you stay there too much longer, Lance." Lance grunted and settled on top of Joey, looking like he was more than half-asleep. Chris looked over, and grinned.

"You exhausted Lance, C. He's falling asleep on Joey. He's kind of pretty like that, all relaxed." Justin tensed, his hand freezing against JC's face, when Chris looked at him. "Justin, though, he's still hard. The wonders of youth, and a bit of recovery time. He could fuck you again." JC shook his head, and Justin refused to acknowledge the hurt that flashed through him. He had no right to feel rejected. They were all just fucking around, and JC could stop it any time he wanted. JC was pressing against his hand again, turning his head to nip gently at one of Justin's fingertips. Justin didn't even realize there were words hidden in JC's noises until Joey spoke quietly to Lance.

"Fuck, Lance. Wake up. JC wants Justin to fist him." The near-whisper echoed in Justin's ears like a shout. He grabbed his balls and tugged, fighting hard not to come at the idea, remembering the hot, slick feel of JC around three of his fingers. Chris was still, pressed against JC's back as tightly as he could manage, and the faint fear coiling in Justin relaxed. Chris wasn't going to let him do it, even if JC wanted it. Justin wasn't sure JC wanted it, still. Joey could've been wrong.

"JC?" He said, glad his voice didn't betray any of the mingled desire and fear rushing in his blood.

"Fuck me." JC muttered, and that was safer. Justin had done that before, knew how to make it good. He started to get up, so that he could take Chris's place when Chris moved away. JC spoke again, quieter.

"Fist me." He shivered as he said the words, and Chris quieted him with a gentle kiss between his shoulder blades, before unwrapping his arms from around the other man and pulling back. JC moaned when Chris's cock slid free. Justin sat on the edge of the bed, waiting and watching Chris. Chris dealt with his condom quickly and found the lube before reaching out to tug Justin up and over until he was standing behind JC. Justin met Chris's assessing gaze with a calm he didn't feel.

"Are you okay with this, kid?" He was touching Justin, too, one hand stroking gently over Justin's forearm. Justin looked down at it, at his own hands, and flexed one, watching the way the bones and tendons moved as he spread his fingers.

"I don't want to hurt him." He confessed, softly, so that only Chris could hear. Chris brandished the lubricant at him.

"That's what this is for. Lots of lube, and slowly. He's already pretty stretched out. That'll help." Chris ducked to look into Justin's eyes. "Ok?" Justin nodded, hesitantly, and reached out for the bottle. He coated his hand, and reached out to touch the base of JC's spine, closing his eyes before sliding two fingers down between the cheeks of his ass until they slipped inside. He gasped, but JC made a needy whimper. Justin opened his eyes, watching possible now that he'd made contact, and pulled his fingers out, pushing back in with three. JC took them easily. Chris was right. Four guys fucking him and an orgasm had stretched the muscles, and when Justin added his fourth finger it was only snug. Chris was behind him, arms around his waist, stroking his abs, the heat of his body comforting. Justin twisted his wrist, moving his fingers inside JC and stretching him more, each slight trust earning a soft moan. When JC began to rock back against him, Justin pulled out to add more lubricant. It had to be slick, he knew, but he had no idea how JC was going to take any more of his hand, until Chris reached out and cupped his hand, pressing his thumb against the length of his fingers.

This time, when he entered JC it was tight, even with the lubrication. He bit his lip, the word slowly repeating over and over in his mind like a mantra, and Chris left him to go to JC. His back was cold as he watched Chris stroke JC rhythmically, coaxing him into taking deeper breaths. Justin timed the movements of his hand to JC's gasps for air, and he was making gradual progress. He was up to his knuckles and paused, looking at his hand vanishing into JC's body with a weird sense of detachment. It couldn't possibly be his, he was sure, he knew his hands were huge and there was no way they would fit into JC. He poured more lube onto his hand, his wrist, and he knew it wasn't going to fit so why was his hand pushing forward, applying a steady pressure, until his knuckles were in, and from there it was almost easy again, the widest part past and his hand curling naturally into a fist inside JC, until he was in to his wrist.

JC was shivering and moaning with each breath, and Justin felt like he should be shivering too, but he wasn't. Someone said "Fuck", but he couldn't tell who. It might have been him. JC rocked back towards him slightly, so Justin began to move, tentatively, tiny motions in and out, and JC was keening, the sound not entirely pleasant but his body was still moving like he wanted it, and no one was reaching out to stop Justin. Justin put his other hand on JC, stroking it down the long length of his thigh, and twisted the hand that was inside him. JC yelled, and came, his body clamping painfully tight around Justin's wrist, and panic nearly made him pull back.

"Justin." Chris's voice cut through his fear, and he looked across JC's shuddering body to see Chris staring back at him, shaking his head. "Wait." He nodded, and tried to hold his hand still, stroking JC's thigh more firmly, trying to calm himself as much as JC. When he felt JC relax, finally, he pulled back gently, a steady pressure until he slipped free.

"Fuck." This time, he knew it was Lance, and looked over to where Lance and Joey were lying, propped on their sides and spooned together to watch. Lance was looking at him, at his hand, glistening obscenely, still coated with lube. Joey was looking at JC, and Justin realized that the shuddering wasn't just fading orgasm. JC was crying with deep near-soundless sobs. Chris was comforting him, stroking his face with one hand and reaching for the nearest cuff with the other. Lance was still looking at him, and Joey shifted his gaze too, and to Justin it felt like an accusation. He didn't know what role to play, and JC needed Chris, JC came first with Chris now, and the panic he'd been ignoring, fighting off, came back full force to grab him by the throat. He needed to escape. He inched carefully towards the door to the en suite bathroom, until Joey noticed what he was doing.

"Justin." The sound of his name snapped something inside him, and he bolted, running into the smaller room and locking the door behind him then leaning against it. JC was crying because of him, might even be hurt, and what the fuck was wrong with him that he was still more turned on than he could ever remember, his cock hurting with it. He sagged down against the door until he was sitting on the cold marble floor, and looked at his hand. It was familiar under the coating of lube, the hand he'd seen on the end of his arm every day of his life, and just minutes, seconds, ago, it had been in JC. Inside JC, and the thought made his cock throb insistently. He pressed his head back against the door and closed his eyes. He barely had to touch himself with his slick hand and he was coming, hard, biting his lip to keep silent because it was bad enough the others knew he'd done that to JC. He didn't want them to know he'd gotten off on it, to the point where JC crying hadn't killed his desire.

It was a poisoned orgasm, physical release without the mental pleasure, and when it faded he just felt young. He played it tough and mature so much of the time he thought everyone had forgotten how inexperienced he was about a lot of things, and this was certainly well outside anything he'd done before. Joey knocked on the door, and tried calling him, but Justin ignored it, and after a few minutes he heard Chris's voice, high but muted, and then the sound of Joey retreating. He wanted someone to tell him it was okay, but instead of a warm embrace all he had was the chill of the marble against his skin, and he scrambled to his feet to take a shower before he started to cry too. He set the temperature to as hot as he could stand and let the water beat down on him, washing away any tears that might've leaked out, and rinsing away the sweat and lubricant that marked what he'd done.

Justin didn't know how long he'd stood in the shower when someone finally unlocked the door from the outside. He still hadn't run out of hot water, but it was entirely possible he never would. Endless hot water was one of the luxuries that came standard on celebrity houses, even relatively modest ones. The door cracked open, letting in a draft of cold air, and he could hear Chris's voice again, but couldn't make out the words over the rush of the water. He figured it was probably Chris coming to get him, which meant JC was probably all right. The last person he expected it to be was JC, but he knew JC's voice, even slightly hoarse from crying, and the man who'd just said his name with so much care was definitely JC.

"Justin?" When his name was repeated, he turned away from the back wall of the shower to look at JC. The other man still looked slightly fragile, wrapped in an oversized silk robe, one arm around his own waist in a sort of half-hug, but he was smiling, and his eyes were dry, if swollen. He reached out to Justin, and there were pale red marks on his wrists where the cuffs had been.

"Jayce?" Justin asked, and let himself been pulled away from the spray. JC hugged him, heedless of the water clinging to his skin. When JC moved back, he kept his hold on Justin, his hands moving to Justin's shoulders.

"Jayce?" Justin asked again. JC smiled more brilliantly, and leaned in, pressing his lips to Justin's and teasing with his tongue until Justin's mouth opened for him, and it wasn't really sexual so much as intimate the way JC's tongue brushed against his own. JC ended the kiss, but held him close.

"Thank you." His voice was sure when he spoke, and being held, his lips tingling from the kiss, Justin was almost ok.

"I really liked it." He confessed abruptly, unable to believe he'd said the words aloud, even if it had been barely a whisper.

"You're allowed to." The only thing Justin could think of to say to that was "Oh."

JC ushered him out of the bathroom, moving more carefully than normal. The bedroom was deserted, and someone had pulled the sheet off the bed and put Justin's clothes on the bare mattress. Justin picked up his boxers and stepped into them, then his jeans.

"Where is everyone?" He asked, his attention fixed on fastening his belt so he didn't have to see the look on JC's face if he was going to tell him that they'd had to drag Chris away to prevent him from killing Justin, although if JC had enjoyed it then Justin was probably safe.

"Downstairs, ordering pizza." He looked at JC in disbelief. JC shrugged.

"They thought it'd be better if I talked to you alone. And you know what Chris and Joey are like with food." Justin shook his head and picked up his T-shirt. He was stretching it over his head when Joey yelled up at them.

"If you don't get down here Chris is going to order weird shit on your pizza." JC laughed, and moved towards the door, and just like that, things were normal.

Justin watched the line of JC's back under the smooth silk satin, wanted to reach out and stroke it, and corrected himself. Almost normal.