by Zaen
It’s a lazy Saturday afternoon. Justin sits on his couch, watching the game
while JC sits in a chair a few yards away, reading a book about John Adams or
Abigail Adams or someone else Justin can barely remember from history
class. Every few minutes Justin looks
over to watch JC flip his hair out of his eyes or turn pages with only his
middle finger. It’s a fairly important
game in the NCAA, and it’s Justin’s second favorite team. JC isn’t making a sound—he knows Justin is
preoccupied—and yet…something seems off.
Justin almost wishes JC would start babbling about the Revolutionary War
or his new manicure or something. JC’s
too quiet, too subdued. That makes
Justin nervous.
“How’s that book?” Justin asks during a lull in the very important
game. JC looks up over his glasses and
grins at Justin. He uncrosses his legs,
leans forward in the chair, and licks his finger before turning a page. Justin notices the tiny hole in the crotch of
JC’s old jeans. It seems to be getting
bigger every week, but JC continues to wear them. Just as Justin realizes that JC seems to only
wear those jeans when he’s around him, the crowd erupts on the TV screen. Justin has missed something important, and
now the scores are tied, and he curses himself for losing concentration.
“Shit. I missed
it.” Justin looks back at JC, who is
still reading, but now he’s smiling playfully.
“What are you smiling about?”
“Nothing, J. Nothing
at all,” JC says without looking up from his book. Justin pouts and returns his attention to the
game. He stares hard at the TV, watching
the players run up and down the court.
After a few minutes he loses himself in the game again. He doesn’t notice JC watching him. He sips his beer, wipes foam from his lips, and scratches his knee, not even noticing the
empty chair across the room.
“May I?” JC asks, all of a sudden on the floor in front of
Justin. He sits between Justin’s legs,
getting into the lotus positing before Justin can even reply. “Thanks.
I’ve been in that chair too long.
It’s not good for the back.”
“And sitting right in front of me is good for your back?”
Justin quips. JC smiles over his
shoulder and turns back to the TV. He
watches the game for a bit. At some
point he asks a question, but Justin doesn’t hear it. He’s too busy staring at the back of JC’s
head, his hair.
“Justin, did you hear me?”
“Um, no.” Justin
lays a hand on JC’s shoulder. “What did
you say?”
“Nevermind. It’s
nothing. I don’t want to keep you from
your game.” Justin smiles to himself and
playfully tousles JC’s long curls. JC
giggles, tosses his hair back, and returns to the book in his lap. Justin sits back, spreading his legs wider so
JC’s back fits comfortably against the couch, and plays with a strand of JC’s
hair. He watches the game. He watches his fingers in JC’s hair. He watches JC’s back rise and fall with each
breath. He watches JC turn another page,
but this time he uses two fingers. A few
minutes go by, and JC is still on the same page, and Justin misses another
important shot in the game. Even the
instant replay goes unnoticed. Justin is
surprised to find both his hands in JC’s hair.
It’s soft, silky, and Justin pulls both hands away when he wonders what
it tastes like.
“Justin?”
“What?”
“Aren’t you watching the game?” JC asks softly.
“Yeah…sure.”
“Ok.” JC picks his
book up and glances at the same page, then closes it. He places the book on the floor next to him
and turns around to look at Justin.
“What is it, C?”
“Nothing. Just watch
the game. Don’t mind me.” He smiles up at Justin, and then takes off
his glasses. He gets to his knees and
leans close, stretching over Justin’s thigh to place his glasses on the table
next to the couch.
“Jace, what are you doing?” Justin whispers nervously.
“Watch the game.”
Suddenly JC is in Justin’s face, on his knees between Justin’s legs,
leaning against him, his hands on Justin’s knees. “I don’t want you to miss it.” Justin nods as he watches JC lay his head in
Justin’s lap. Justin idly strokes JC’s
face as he stares at the basketball game but doesn’t really see it. He listens to the commentators and the
cheering but doesn’t really hear it. His
attention is focused on JC’s hands on his thighs, JC’s face against his
stomach, JC’s hot breath against his crotch.
“Are you winning?” JC asks.
His hands are now on Justin’s stomach, slipping under the T-shirt. Justin looks down at him questioningly,
biting his lip when fingers brush against his nipples. “Is your team winning?” Justin thinks to nod, but he’s not sure if he
actually does it. JC has exposed his abs
and chest to his soft lips. Justin
watches, transfixed as JC kisses his way up Justin’s chest, making a beeline
for his left nipple.
“C?”
“The game,” JC says before wrapping his lips around the nipple,
hard the second JC sat down in front of him.
Justin sighs as he tries to watch the TV and not watch JC licking
and suckling both nipples. He swallows
as many moans as he can when he feels JC’s hand between his legs. Justin opens his legs wider, and JC bites
down on a nipple.
“Oh!” Justin cries out, though not in pain. JC kisses it, licks it, soothes
it, making Justin’s cock swell in his low-riding pants. JC notices, and he strokes the bulge in
Justin’s pants methodically, skillfully, like he knows that Justin has been
hard all along.
“JC…hey…JC?” Justin
stammers, not knowing what to say, not knowing where to put his hands. JC decides for him. He leans up, capturing Justin’s lips with his
as he holds Justin’s hands down at his sides.
Justin lets JC kiss him, lets JC taste him and suck his tongue. He lets JC’s tongue enter his mouth, lets
JC’s hands wander over his chest and stomach.
He kisses JC back, his tongue searching JC’s mouth, his legs tightening
around JC’s hips.
Justin opens his eyes, his mouth abandoned, to find JC
staring at him as he works on Justin’s zipper.
“Josh.”
“Your favorite team,” JC whispers as he undoes Justin’s
pants and tugs on them.
“Second favorite,” Justin grunts as he lifts his hips
automatically.
“Whatever,” JC says with a smirk. He pushes pants and boxers down Justin’s legs
haphazardly, and they bunch uncomfortably between Justin’s right knee and left
ankle. Justin starts to mention this but
he loses his train of thought when JC wraps his lips around his cock.
“Oh…fuck.” JC smiles
a little around the flesh in his mouth.
Justin slouches down against the couch, his legs spreading as wide as
the elastic will let them. He tries to
push at his pants, but JC pushes his hands away, opting to do it himself. He licks Justin’s sex up and down until it
glistens with saliva, then lets it fall from his lips, smiling as it smacks wet
and heavy against Justin’s tummy.
“What quarter?” JC says as he impatiently pulls Justin’s
pants all the way down. Justin looks at
him like he’s speaking a foreign language.
“What quarter…the game, man?”
“I…I don’t even…why—”
“Better pay attention, then.” Somehow JC doesn’t come off as cocky as he
removes Justin’s clothes and urgently sucks Justin’s penis into his mouth. He’s too serious about what he’s doing, too
focused or determined, almost as if he’s racing. Justin can’t imagine what JC is rushing for;
they aren’t going anywhere anytime soon.
Justin has all but given up on the game.
JC’s hot mouth on his sex is too distracting. As are JC’s hands spreading his legs. And JC’s fingers squeezing his nipples.
“Oh…mmm…Jace…you.” Justin would cringe at his lack of coherence
if he weren’t so turned on. If JC wasn’t
looking up at him with silvery lust. If
JC wasn’t lapping at the tip of his cock, urging it to leak on his tongue. When Justin feels the tip of his cock touch
the back of JC’s throat, he lets out a long, guttural moan that reverberates
throughout his chest. JC answers it,
humming as he slurps and sucks Justin as deeply as he can.
“Jac…please…yeah…mmm.” Justin opens
his legs wider, a silent invitation. He
gasps when he feels JC’s fingers toying with his ass. Small, quick circles, a gentle press of a
licked-wet fingertip and Justin is arching his back, panting, legs opening even
wider.
“Mmmm…you taste so good here,” JC
says between kisses to Justin’s testicles.
He looks up as he nibbles Justin’s inner thigh, his fingers still
flirting with his entrance. “Do you know
how good you taste, Justin?” Justin
wonders in his lusty stupor if this is rhetorical, but soon enough JC is there,
kissing him again, letting Justin taste his own sex, his skin, his desire. Justin wraps his arms around JC, holding him
up as they French kiss hungrily.
“You taste good, too,” Justin mumbles around JC’s tongue.
“Shhh…watch your game,
Justin. Stop talking.” JC looks serious. Justin doesn’t know what to make of this, but
suddenly JC’s index and middle fingers are in Justin’s mouth, keeping him from
saying another word. JC smiles wickedly
at Justin, who sucks the fingers hungrily as he pretends to watch the game
again. Justin keeps his eyes on the
screen—though his hunger has made his vision blurry—and sinks his own fingers
into JC’s curls.
“You love this hair, don’t you?” JC whispers against
Justin’s collarbone. He looks up at
Justin. “Don’t you, baby?” Justin nods and grunts as he licks the V
between JC’s middle fingers, making JC moan.
Justin smiles. JC is enjoying
this. JC smiles too as he licks Justin’s
nipples painfully hard, then rubs his nose against them. Justin squeezes his eyes shut.
“Hey! The game,
Justin. Keep your eyes on the ball,” JC
grunts against Justin’s skin. He’s not
even watching Justin’s face, but somehow he knows what Justin is doing. Justin opens his eyes to the ceiling,
nibbling on JC’s fingertips, trying not to scream as JC rubs his head—his soft,
curly, sweet-smelling hair—all over Justin’s chest. The tendrils tickle his engorged nipples, and
Justin almost begs JC to do the same to his cock. He massages JC’s shoulders, to touch him and
thank him, but also to resist pushing him.
JC smiles up at him, forcing Justin to watch him move down. Justin holds his breath while JC licks his
cock all over, making it even wetter and harder than it already was.
“What’s the score, J?” JC whispers, then licks into the
hypersensitive meatus. Justin whimpers
around JC’s fingers. “Tell me the
score.” Justin looks quickly at the
screen, but the score isn’t up, and he starts to pant, worried JC will punish him
for not knowing.
“I think…I think it’s…ohhhhhh.” JC bends his head forward, rubs his hair all
over Justin’s leaking cock, and pulls his glistening fingers from Justin’s
mouth. Justin watches those licked-wet
fingers trail down his body, and he groans and spreads his legs
impatiently. JC smiles against Justin’s
thigh.
“Justin…tell me the score…and don’t move your hands from
here,” JC whispers as he places Justin’s left then right hand on Justin’s
chest. “Now…watch the game. I don’t want you to miss it. Basketball is very important, don’t you
think?”
“Yeaaaahhhhhhhhfuuuuuckkk.” Justin winces just a little as JC enters him
with just the middle finger. It’s sharp
and sudden and so fucking wonderful that he loses his breath for a second. JC purrs loudly as he rubs lips, nose, cheek,
and wild hair all over Justin’s genitals as he slowly wiggles his slick finger
inside Justin’s body.
“You like this, baby?” JC coos against Justin’s
stomach. He looks up at Justin with
sparkling eyes and presses his index finger against Justin’s anus. “Justin, do you like this?”
“You know I do,” Justin replies. His legs spread wider, urging JC to give him
more, and JC doesn’t disappoint. The
second finger enters slower, more carefully, and Justin throws his head back as
he’s filled. He pushes against JC’s
fingers, wanting them deeper, wanting JC’s mouth on him at the same time. JC reads him well—not surprising as long as
they have known each other—and enthusiastically swallows Justin’s cock all the
way to the base.
“Fuck…fuck me, Jace,” Justin
groans, squeezing his own nipples as he thrusts against JC’s probing
fingers. He swallows hard, surprised at
his outburst. Then he says it again. “Uh…Jo…Josh…please…yes…fuck…so
good…fuck me.” JC looks up at him as he
bobs up and down on his erection. His
eyes are soft, sweet, and Justin smiles down at him as he watches. The urge to beg JC to really fuck him
is strong, but Justin is at the point of few words. He can only repeat, “fuck…me”
as orgasm looms, the heat building and threatening to burst out of his body and
all over JC. Justin wonders if he should
warn JC, but he loses his thoughts as he arches high, hips off the couch, head
thrown back, legs quivering as JC sucks and fucks him to release.
“Ooooohhhh…yes…fuck…fuuuuuck…Josh…baby.”
Justin humps JC’s fingers until he collapses on the couch in an
exhausted, exhilarated heap. JC swallows
expertly, not a drop of Justin’s hot semen spilt. Justin catches his breath, and when his
faculties fully return, he looks down to find JC licking his softening cock
clean and pulling Justin’s underwear and pants up his legs.
“Jace,” Justin whispers.
He touches JC’s cheek, groans when JC releases his sex from his full
lips. “What are you doing?”
“Fixing you back,” JC replies sweetly. He gently nestles Justin’s cock between his
legs, then finishes dressing him. He
pulls the T-shirt bunched up over Justin’s head down in place, smoothing out
the wrinkles. Awestruck, Justin watches
as JC zips and fastens Justin’s pants, then stands up to stretch out his arms
and legs. Justin nearly gasps at the
sizeable erection JC sports. JC smiles crookedly, licks his lips at Justin, then sits on
the couch.
“Could you hand me my glasses, Justin?” JC asks
nonchalantly, like he hasn’t just blown Justin’s mind, his concentration, and
his cock, like he isn’t smacking his lips and tasting Justin’s come in his
mouth right now. Justin can only nod his
head confusedly, give JC his glasses, and smile. “Thanks, J.”
JC puts the glasses on, kisses Justin’s cheek, picks up his book, and
begins reading. Justin stares at JC’s
face, his body, his crotch as he waits for something or someone to explain to
him what just happened.
“JC.”
“Shhh, I’m reading. Watch your game.”
“Josh, why did you—”
“Justin, you’ll miss the end of the game.”
“Ja…fine.” Justin turns back to the TV, pouting that JC
won’t give him the satisfaction of an explanation. Then he smiles. “Thanks, Josh.”
“You’re wel—” Justin quickly
turns and kisses JC. He holds JC’s face,
stroking his cheek as he opens JC’s mouth and tastes him. JC responds, sighing and purring like a cat,
and Justin lets his hand fall to JC’s lap.
“Can I return the favor, baby?” Justin whispers as he
lightly strokes JC’s erection. JC blinks
bashfully, shakes his head, and kisses Justin’s nose.
“No. Thank you,
though.” Justin nuzzles JC’s neck, but
JC pushes him away, saying, “The game, baby.” JC picks up his book and starts reading
again. Justin kisses JC’s neck, gives
his sex one last gentle squeeze, and moves back to his side of the couch. They sit in silence for a few moments. “You sure, C?”
“This was just for you, baby.”
“Thanks, Josh.”
Justin licks his lips, tasting JC’s mouth, and tries really hard to
concentrate on the game again. A few minutes
later JC says, “You can pay me back tonight, sweetheart.” Justin smiles, thinking about the brand-new
paddles, handcuffs, and nipple clamps up in his and JC’s bedroom.
Copyright © December 2002
by KTA