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Mar. 2nd, 2005 07:58 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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sheherazade_ii and I have been writing a TrickC hooker AU story in the comments of one of my Chris pic posts. Well I present it here now, pulled together and given a quick polish as I really kind of like it. Because you know, CJ rocks and her stuff deserves to be shown.
It all started with this picture which led to these comments.
that first one is man, such a hooker AU. he's all like, 'yeah what's up, fifty for a blowjob.'
It really is. And worth every penny of that fifty I'd say.
god yes. of course, JC would want him for the entire night.
He so would.
He'd pull up in his car, wind down the window, lean out and ask how much for the night?
And with that a story was born. One I had a blast writing, so thank you CJ. I loved every minute.
Chris states a price, making sure he looks calm even though the money for a night would make sure he eats for the next week. JC hesitates for only a moment then smiles, saying get in, and Chris does.
While they're driving to JC's place, he's thinking of stuff to say, but all he can think off is stupid lines like, what's a nice boy like you doing in a place like this, or you're really pretty and that's lame and bordering on really creepy and gross, and he blurts out, I've never done this before and he wants to knock his head down on the steering wheel, because motherfuck that's original, even if it *is* true, and probably something this guy hears all the time.
He smiles though, at JC, and JC wants it to mean more than it does.
um, he says, and his hands slip a little on the wheel, nervous sweat and blabbering. what's your name?
Chris, the guy says, putting a small hand high on JC's thigh, and JC thinks his brain short circuits. It's been ages since he's been laid, and it's not like he was going to buy a hooker, and most certainly not a male one, but this guy just caught his eye and---
Chris' hand on his thigh squeezes, and JC speeds through a red light.
Chris knows that the guy is nervous, can tell the way he grips the steering wheel, so hard that his knuckles are turning white. He puts his hand on the guy’s thigh to try and calm him down. The last thing he wants is to be in a car wreck, especially now he's out of the cold with the promise of money soon.
What do you want me to call you? Chris asks, and he looks at the guy, trying to work him out, wondering if he's one of the 'call me sir types' not that he looks it, but Chris has learned never to assume. The guy hesitates a moment, as if he's thinking of something then says, I'm JC
JC. Is that short for anything? Chris asks, trying to keep the conversation light as JC visually relaxes, shivering a little as Chris kneads his thigh.
Josh, but no one calls me that JC moans a little when Chris moves his hand higher, practiced fingers stroking with a sure touch. Chris thinks he could bring him off now, but if he does that JC might not keep him for the night, and Chris is hungry and cold. A bed will be much better than this car, even if JC is making little sounds, moans that make Chris hard hearing them.
He lets his hand drop and JC sighs so Chris says We'll do that later and smoothers a smile when JC blushes a deep red as the car speeds up again.
JC's somewhere inbetween relieved and disappointed, relieved because his concentration was shot to hell with that guy - chris's nimble fingers that close to his crotch, disappointed because right now, he can't remember the last time someone touched him like that.
He holds the door open for Chris and asks if he wants a beer, a drink, a soda, and when he declines, JC pours himself a whiskey. he doesn't really like it, has it because it was given to him, but he thinks he might need it right now.
The guy laughs, low and sexy, as he leans back in the couch and JC puts the glass down on the table. um, he says, and wipes his hands on his jeans, the, um, money. do you, you know, now, or--- um, *after*--- um.
Chris laughs again, reaching up and grabbing JC's belt buckle, pulling, so that JC falls to the couch. Chris is all quick moves and surprising strength, and JC suddenly finds himself upright in the couch, straddled by Chris.
How about he says, how about I kiss you, and then we take it from there?
JC swallows, Chris smells good, male, toothpaste and something spicy, and he points to his coat, carelessly flung over the back of a chair. wallet, he says, my wallet's in the coat. and I didn't you think you kissed.
Another laugh, this time light and breezy, ghosting over JC's lips. you watch too many movies Chris says.
He leans even closer, lips brushing against JC's. I do lots of things he says and kisses JC. A brief touch before he pulls back slightly I also do this. Chris leans in again and kisses along JC's jawline while skilfully opening shirt buttons with one hand.
It's something he's done thousands of times before, a routine he could follow blindfolded, and often has. He can strip clothes in seconds, unfasten buttons and zips by touch as he sleepwalks through the familiar lines. Except he can't seem to call JC baby, or whisper how hot he makes him, the words souring on his tongue as soon as he open his mouth.
Instead he finishes unfastening the shirt and keeps kissing, letting his hands roam across smooth skin as JC arches below him, almost knocking Chris to the floor.
I'm sorry. It's just... JC blushes again and bites his lower lip before looking Chris in the eye. It's just. I've done this before. I mean, I've had sex, just not...
Chris takes pity on him then, silencing JC with a kiss. I know you can kiss. Lets just take it from there. Chris says, even as he wonders what he's doing when JC nods, tilting his head to one side. Normally he would have blown JC by now, hustled him into bed for a fast and unsatisfactory fuck balanced hopefully by a good nights sleep. Instead he's taking his time, making it good as he writhes on JC's knee. He teases with one hand, gently pinching JC's nipples and making him groan as he removes his own clothes until he's dressed in his jeans and an open shirt .
You're so beautiful JC says, and Chris thinks he means it, unlike the long line of johns who let the false words drop from their lips. A fake compliment to make themselves feel good as they cruise for hookers to warm their bed.
I mean it JC is talking again, words fast as he trembles under Chris' touch. I had to stop, you looked so beautiful, and I've never, I wouldn't, but I had to stop
Chris smiles, accepting the compliment for what it is then slips his hand down between their bodies to cup the front of JC's pants. Do you want to move this to the bed he asks, hoping JC will say yes as he looks toward the stairs and back to Chris.
He nods, and pushes off the couch, arching in the warm hand, and images rushes through his head, images of skin, skin, skin, skin and lips, and eyes, dark, dark eyes, and limbs tangled up together.
Upstairs he prompts, and Chris slides off his lap, and pushes the shirt completely off JC's shoulders. it falls to the floor, and normally he would have said something, because expensive shirts shouldn't be on the floor, but Chris is smiling, sexily, and JC doesn't think he's ever wanted like this.
Upstairs his bed is made, hospital corners and useless matching pillows that Chris unceremoniously shoves to the floor. JC stares dumbly as Chris yanks at his bedspread, glancing wickedly over his shoulder and asking, are you gonna make me do all the work here? and JC abruptly springs into motion, leaping forwards, and pressing Chris down on his bed.
Chris squirms deliciously underneath him, and something clicks inside JC, because this? This he *knows*.
He pushes Chris' shirt down a little, and licks at the hollow between his collarbones, bites down slightly on one of them, and tangles his fingers in the ballchain around Chris' neck. gonna fuck you, he whispers into Chris' ear, gonna fuck you so good, and he delights in the small shivers he can detect, but first...
He lets go of the chain and moves down Chris' body, pushing the shirt up his sides, kissing, licking, nipping at the soft pale skin revealed to him. Chris sucks in a breath of air, and JC grins down at his belly, he hasn't lost his touch.
Beltbuckle, zipper, and JC is distracted for a moment by the heavy chain by Chris' hip, then moves on, pushes down, and Chris is right *there* alive and hot under his fingertips when JC touches him, running a finger down the length, pulling softly at the hair at the base.
He surprises them both, if the sounds Chris makes is any indication, when he bends down and takes Chris in his mouth, Chris' hips arching up and JC takes in all that he can, smiling around Chris' cock.
Oh no, he hasn't lost his touch at all.
Chris never expected JC to blow him but now he never wants him to stop. It's obvious JC knows what he's doing as he sucks and licks in a maddening rhythm. Sometimes slow, sometimes fast, that has Chris clawing at the sheets, fingers digging into cotton as he quivers, his whole body alive with feeling.
I should be doing this to you he says, forcing the words past the whimpers and groans caused by JC's touch.
JC pulls back slightly Why? I like doing it. and his words ghost across Chris' cock, making him shiver with their gentle touch.
It's what I do Chris says, the words spilling from his mouth before he can think and he bites back a groan that has nothing to do with sex and everything to do with how he feels inside as JC sits up slightly, pushing up on one elbow so he can see. He looks at Chris, expression solemn and lips damp and all Chris can think is stupid stupid stupid the first guy that's treated him like a person for a long while and he's just reminded JC of what he really is. Except JC suddenly shakes his head and smiles as he says Not tonight.
He ducks his head once more, and takes Chris' cock in his mouth, resuming the same crazy rhythm that makes Chris want to beg as he's pushed to the edge then pulled back over and over by JC's talented mouth. Fuck, JC, please Chris says and he is begging now, is unable to stop as he pleads for JC to go faster, to suck harder goddamit, please, please, please He feels like he's going to fly apart and reaches back, wrapping his fingers around the bars of the headboard, gripping so hard it hurts.
I'm gonna to fuck you now JC says suddenly as he stops sucking and rolls over, making the mattress dip as he moves to the side. Chris looks at him, the line of his back, the swell of thigh and ass as JC hangs off the bed, groping for something on the floor and he can't resist touching, unwrapping one hand and running his fingers across pale skin.
JC looks up at the touch and smiles before sitting up straight, a bag held in one hand. You ready?
The bulging muscle in Chris' arm that's still gripping the headboard draws JC's attention, and he slides his thumb along the line of it, pressing down lightly, watching it flex, and he licks his mouth.
He pulls lube and a condom from the bag, placing both on Chris' smooth belly, before taking off his own pants.
He looks at Chris, just looks at him for a long moment, long enough to make Chris squirm a little and he looks so damn good that JC wants to just skip straight to fucking.
He doesn't though, he wants to make this good for Chris, make it so good that he never forgets, and JC slicks his fingers carefully before pumping Chris's cock, once, twice, and then moving on, moving lower.
He brushes his thumb over the muscle, and Chris' legs spread. JC smiles. He's so damn responsive. He puts a little more pressure into his movements, and his thumb dips down, stroke, dip, stroke, dip, and Chris raises his legs, feet flat on the mattress on either side of JC.
JC presses a kiss to one of Chris' knees as he pushes in all the way, and Chris moans. More, he says, moremoremore and JC presses another finger in, and one more, stretching, scissoring, and he can't tell which one of them is more impatient.
He picks the condom up from where it's fallen to the bed, and holds it out for Chris, fingers still deep in his ass. Chris looks dazed, but manages to rip the package open, and JC slowly, slowly pulls his fingers free of Chris' body. He takes the condom and rolls it on himself, pours some lube in his hand and strokes himself, languidly, slowly, putting on a show for Chris.
He leans forward, lifting Chris's ankles to his shoulders and Chris bends gracefully in half when JC leans forward even further, his cock resting in the crease of Chris's ass, and Chris whimpers.
Shhh, JC says, just relax. I'll take good care of you.
Chris gropes for the headboard again with his free hand, grip tight as JC slides into him, steady and oh so slow. He's used to this, body readily adapting to JC's skillful thrust, but at the same time it's different, pleasure sparking as he stares up at JC. The way his bottom lip is nipped between his teeth, the concentration on his face as he pants softly, his hands hot against Chris' thighs.
At last they're together and the moment seems to stretch forever, pleasure on an endless repeat, as JC stills Are you okay? he asks, and Chris nods, unable to form the needed words. Good JC says and his eyes shine as he runs his hands up to Chris' waist, splaying them there as he starts to move. Slow at first, tiny shallow thrusts that do nothing but tease, and Chris wants to scream, to yell fuck me harder already but he doesn't. Just tips back his head and moans, bracing himself against the headboard as JC finally picks up the pace.
It's like everything and nothing that Chris has ever known, the act itself so familiar, the emotions something else as he stares at JC, locking into his gaze. He arcs his back, finding and pushing JC's pace as they thrust together, pleasure peaking fast. Please, please, please Chris begs, breathless and hurried and he can't stop however hard he tries, so he gives in, letting himself be swept away.
Orgasm hits fast, sweeping across his body as he gasps for breath, tensing as each nerve in his body spikes, making him tremble as he's hit with a wave of feeling that heats his skin and undoes him from the inside out, making him whimper as JC keeps thrusting. His hands white hot on Chris' belly as he murmurs so good, so fucking good as he thrusts impossibly harder still and all Chris can do is take it, hanging on and watching JC's face, the way he closes his eyes and tips back his head, all sweat slick skin and damp curls, until he tenses, coming with a deep groan.
There's something so amazingly powerful about making another person lose it like this, complete surrender, and JC revels in it, hands gripping tighter and hips going faster, deeper, harder. Chris opens his eyes and stares him dead in the eyes and JC feels the control slip out of his hands, his thrusts uneven as he comes.
He slumps down on top of Chris, breathing heavily, and Chris licks lazily at a drop of sweat by JC's temple. Fuck JC says, chuckling, and Chris mmmmm's his reply.
He could fall asleep like this, warm, spent, sticky, but this must be killing Chris's legs, and he probably doesn't like it when people are too clingy. He closes his eyes against that thought. JC thinks he'd like them to be more than what they are, thinks he'd like to get up in the morning and make them scrambled eggs and coffee, thinks he'd like to have Chris still be there when he returns from work.
Instead, he sighs and eases back of, sliding his hands from Chris' belly to his ass, squeezing lightly before running them up his thighs, to the crease where they bend, slick with sweat, and Chris starts. Tickles he murmurs, and JC presses the pads of his fingertips into the crease again, just to make Chris jump again. He does, and JC thinks he would like to spend days and days finding all of Chris' ticklish spots.
Instead, he pulls the condom off and ties it neatly before dumping it in the wastebasket. I'll be right back, he whispers, softly padding to the bathroom, wringing a soft washcloth in water so hot it scolds his skin.
Chris looks asleep when he returns, sprawled out on the bed, arms still above his head. JC thinks he'd like to tie Chris to the headboard and tease him until he can't remember his own name.
Instead, he climbs back on the bed, softly wiping Chris' soft skin with the washcloth, and Chris smiles sleepily at him. When he's done, JC perfunctorily wipes at his own stomach a few times, before dropping the washcloth next to the bed, crawling closer to Chris. JC thinks he'd like to curl up with Chris and sleep in his big soft bed.
So he does.
Chris wakes hours later. Overnight they've tangled together, his arm trapped under JC's body, their legs pressed close and Chris luxuriates in the closeness, lying still as he listens to JC breathe. It's a moment of peace he treasures, storing the memories for when he has to leave, and he will have to. Stories never have a happy ending and a handsome prince never comes along for someone like him. Chris knows that, has long given up on the happy ever after, so he lies and takes in details, creating his own memories he can revisit at any time. He sees the way the morning sun casts red into JC's hair, the contrast of shadow on his face, the feel of clean sheets against his skin and remembers it all.
Morning JC says, and he yawns, hiding his mouth behind his hand. Chris answers hey and sits up, looking around the room for his clothes. It's been good but it's time to go. Time to get out before the awkwardness sets in and something that seemed special is soured by the grim taint of reality.
Do you...I mean, are you going now? JC asks, and he sits up too, letting the sheet fall to his knees.
I have to Chris stands, deliberately looking away from JC who looks so damn good, sitting naked and unashamed. He finds his pants slug in a corner and pulls them on, grimacing at the feel of cold material against his skin. I've things to do he shrugs, leaving the details vague. There's no need to tell JC about how he spends his day, harsh realities don't belong in this room with its matching bedspread and curtains and what look like real paintings on the wall.
Can you stay for breakfast at least? JC asks, and Chris looks away, stalling for time, because yes he does want to stay, yes he does want to spend more time with JC but what's the point dragging the moment on? He should take his money and go, except when he opens his mouth Chris says I'd love to and is glad he did when JC responds with the biggest smile.
The coffee is almost ready, the toast is only minorly burned, and the eggs are good so far. JC smiles at Chris and says, No, the one on your right and Chris takes two plates from the cupboards, slightly on his tippytoes to reach.
He serves up the eggs and Chris pours the coffee, and they settle side by side on the stools, passing the sugar and pepper back and forth, and JC feels a peaceful sense of domestication settle in the room, the cling and clatter of forks and plates. He wants to enjoy the moment, and puts his free hand on top of Chris's on the table-top, his fingers filling in the spaces between Chris's. Chris looks oddly at him before resuming his eating, wolfing down the food at an impressive speed.
Okay, he says, standing up and pulling his hand from under JC's, I'm off.
Oh, JC says, because it's all too sudden for this to be over. You sure you don't wanna-- he scrambles to come up with a reason for Chris to stay longer, any reason - shower?
Chris looks up, cocking his head to the side, narrowing his eyes as he considers. I better take off, I have stuff. Thanks, though, he says, and JC nods, shoving his hands deep in his pockets. Chris looks expectantly at him, and JC shrugs his shoulders up to his ears.
Oh! he says, oh right. Sorry. He walks to the living room and Chris trails after him. He fumbles for his wallet in his coat and for a second considers pretending that he lost it so he can have Chris wait while he 'searches' for it. He pulls it out though, counts and pulls a handful of notes out, holding them out for Chris and doesn't miss the way his eyes widen at the sight of the cash.
Chris counts the money, pulling the single 20 out and lets it dangle between his thumb and index finger, arching one eyebrow.
Cab-fare, JC says, but Chris doesn't move. I drove you pretty far away from--- JC lets the end of the sentence fall away, but the unsaid seems to spur Chris into motion.
It's been nice, he says, and pushes the twenty into one of JC's front pockets.
He's gone before JC can say anything, and the only response he gets when he calls out Chris' name is the slamming of the front door.
Chris freezes as the door slams. All he wants to do is go back in, but he doesn't. Things don't work like that. This isn't a movie and cheap hookers don't get rescued from the streets. JC isn't going to sweep him off his feet and whisk him away. There's no happy ending, never has been, never will be.
He pulls his jacket around him more securely, keeping one hand on the wad of notes as he briskly walks away. It feels good under his hand, the money representing food and rent for the next week at least and he can't help imagining how he'll spend it. A cheesebuger and fries, a trip to the laundry, little things that mean so much.
Chris should be overjoyed, but he's not at all. He feels mixed up, emotions ragged and that's wrong. JC was nothing but a paying customer, he bought Chris, the same way men buy him every day. Except he didn't, not really.
JC may have handed over the money, but he didn't buy him, not the way Chris expects to be bought anyway, and that's a huge difference. One that makes Chris stop in the middle of the sidewalk and turn, fighting against the voice inside that warns don't do this. It won't work. Can never work .
Chris runs his thumb over the money again and all he can think of is the look in JC's eyes as he walked away and this is stupid and he's probably wrong about what JC wants. Should keep walking and never look back, chalking this up to one good night he'll remember for a long time. Chris *knows* that but that knowledge doesn't stop him slowly walking back toward JC's house. Each step making his stomach clench until he's finally back at the door, one fist raised to knock.
Then he steps back in surprise as the door is violently pulled open and JC runs past, stopping with a double take when he realises Chris is there.
I changed my mind Chris says when JC remains frozen in place about that shower, that is if the offer's still there and this time JC smiles wide, grabbing Chris' hand as he pulls him back into the house.
Of course it's still there JC smiles even wider and indicates a door Bathroom's through there, towels are in the cupboard when you're done He stops speaking then and the smile slips from his face as he looks at Chris. I was coming after you. Couldn't let you go and Chris nods as JC bends slightly, kissing him gently on the lips.
Chris responds with a kiss of his own, and standing in this hallway, JC's hands warm against his hips Chris thinks this is one of the stupidest things he's ever done. It's insanity and he's a fool to think there's more there than there really is. But he's going to do it anyway, because maybe this time there is a happy ending and it starts right now.
sheherazade_ii and I have been writing a TrickC hooker AU story in the comments of one of my Chris pic posts. Well I present it here now, pulled together and given a quick polish as I really kind of like it. Because you know, CJ rocks and her stuff deserves to be shown.It all started with this picture which led to these comments.
that first one is man, such a hooker AU. he's all like, 'yeah what's up, fifty for a blowjob.'
It really is. And worth every penny of that fifty I'd say.
god yes. of course, JC would want him for the entire night.
He so would.
He'd pull up in his car, wind down the window, lean out and ask how much for the night?
And with that a story was born. One I had a blast writing, so thank you CJ. I loved every minute.
Chris states a price, making sure he looks calm even though the money for a night would make sure he eats for the next week. JC hesitates for only a moment then smiles, saying get in, and Chris does.
While they're driving to JC's place, he's thinking of stuff to say, but all he can think off is stupid lines like, what's a nice boy like you doing in a place like this, or you're really pretty and that's lame and bordering on really creepy and gross, and he blurts out, I've never done this before and he wants to knock his head down on the steering wheel, because motherfuck that's original, even if it *is* true, and probably something this guy hears all the time.
He smiles though, at JC, and JC wants it to mean more than it does.
um, he says, and his hands slip a little on the wheel, nervous sweat and blabbering. what's your name?
Chris, the guy says, putting a small hand high on JC's thigh, and JC thinks his brain short circuits. It's been ages since he's been laid, and it's not like he was going to buy a hooker, and most certainly not a male one, but this guy just caught his eye and---
Chris' hand on his thigh squeezes, and JC speeds through a red light.
Chris knows that the guy is nervous, can tell the way he grips the steering wheel, so hard that his knuckles are turning white. He puts his hand on the guy’s thigh to try and calm him down. The last thing he wants is to be in a car wreck, especially now he's out of the cold with the promise of money soon.
What do you want me to call you? Chris asks, and he looks at the guy, trying to work him out, wondering if he's one of the 'call me sir types' not that he looks it, but Chris has learned never to assume. The guy hesitates a moment, as if he's thinking of something then says, I'm JC
JC. Is that short for anything? Chris asks, trying to keep the conversation light as JC visually relaxes, shivering a little as Chris kneads his thigh.
Josh, but no one calls me that JC moans a little when Chris moves his hand higher, practiced fingers stroking with a sure touch. Chris thinks he could bring him off now, but if he does that JC might not keep him for the night, and Chris is hungry and cold. A bed will be much better than this car, even if JC is making little sounds, moans that make Chris hard hearing them.
He lets his hand drop and JC sighs so Chris says We'll do that later and smoothers a smile when JC blushes a deep red as the car speeds up again.
JC's somewhere inbetween relieved and disappointed, relieved because his concentration was shot to hell with that guy - chris's nimble fingers that close to his crotch, disappointed because right now, he can't remember the last time someone touched him like that.
He holds the door open for Chris and asks if he wants a beer, a drink, a soda, and when he declines, JC pours himself a whiskey. he doesn't really like it, has it because it was given to him, but he thinks he might need it right now.
The guy laughs, low and sexy, as he leans back in the couch and JC puts the glass down on the table. um, he says, and wipes his hands on his jeans, the, um, money. do you, you know, now, or--- um, *after*--- um.
Chris laughs again, reaching up and grabbing JC's belt buckle, pulling, so that JC falls to the couch. Chris is all quick moves and surprising strength, and JC suddenly finds himself upright in the couch, straddled by Chris.
How about he says, how about I kiss you, and then we take it from there?
JC swallows, Chris smells good, male, toothpaste and something spicy, and he points to his coat, carelessly flung over the back of a chair. wallet, he says, my wallet's in the coat. and I didn't you think you kissed.
Another laugh, this time light and breezy, ghosting over JC's lips. you watch too many movies Chris says.
He leans even closer, lips brushing against JC's. I do lots of things he says and kisses JC. A brief touch before he pulls back slightly I also do this. Chris leans in again and kisses along JC's jawline while skilfully opening shirt buttons with one hand.
It's something he's done thousands of times before, a routine he could follow blindfolded, and often has. He can strip clothes in seconds, unfasten buttons and zips by touch as he sleepwalks through the familiar lines. Except he can't seem to call JC baby, or whisper how hot he makes him, the words souring on his tongue as soon as he open his mouth.
Instead he finishes unfastening the shirt and keeps kissing, letting his hands roam across smooth skin as JC arches below him, almost knocking Chris to the floor.
I'm sorry. It's just... JC blushes again and bites his lower lip before looking Chris in the eye. It's just. I've done this before. I mean, I've had sex, just not...
Chris takes pity on him then, silencing JC with a kiss. I know you can kiss. Lets just take it from there. Chris says, even as he wonders what he's doing when JC nods, tilting his head to one side. Normally he would have blown JC by now, hustled him into bed for a fast and unsatisfactory fuck balanced hopefully by a good nights sleep. Instead he's taking his time, making it good as he writhes on JC's knee. He teases with one hand, gently pinching JC's nipples and making him groan as he removes his own clothes until he's dressed in his jeans and an open shirt .
You're so beautiful JC says, and Chris thinks he means it, unlike the long line of johns who let the false words drop from their lips. A fake compliment to make themselves feel good as they cruise for hookers to warm their bed.
I mean it JC is talking again, words fast as he trembles under Chris' touch. I had to stop, you looked so beautiful, and I've never, I wouldn't, but I had to stop
Chris smiles, accepting the compliment for what it is then slips his hand down between their bodies to cup the front of JC's pants. Do you want to move this to the bed he asks, hoping JC will say yes as he looks toward the stairs and back to Chris.
He nods, and pushes off the couch, arching in the warm hand, and images rushes through his head, images of skin, skin, skin, skin and lips, and eyes, dark, dark eyes, and limbs tangled up together.
Upstairs he prompts, and Chris slides off his lap, and pushes the shirt completely off JC's shoulders. it falls to the floor, and normally he would have said something, because expensive shirts shouldn't be on the floor, but Chris is smiling, sexily, and JC doesn't think he's ever wanted like this.
Upstairs his bed is made, hospital corners and useless matching pillows that Chris unceremoniously shoves to the floor. JC stares dumbly as Chris yanks at his bedspread, glancing wickedly over his shoulder and asking, are you gonna make me do all the work here? and JC abruptly springs into motion, leaping forwards, and pressing Chris down on his bed.
Chris squirms deliciously underneath him, and something clicks inside JC, because this? This he *knows*.
He pushes Chris' shirt down a little, and licks at the hollow between his collarbones, bites down slightly on one of them, and tangles his fingers in the ballchain around Chris' neck. gonna fuck you, he whispers into Chris' ear, gonna fuck you so good, and he delights in the small shivers he can detect, but first...
He lets go of the chain and moves down Chris' body, pushing the shirt up his sides, kissing, licking, nipping at the soft pale skin revealed to him. Chris sucks in a breath of air, and JC grins down at his belly, he hasn't lost his touch.
Beltbuckle, zipper, and JC is distracted for a moment by the heavy chain by Chris' hip, then moves on, pushes down, and Chris is right *there* alive and hot under his fingertips when JC touches him, running a finger down the length, pulling softly at the hair at the base.
He surprises them both, if the sounds Chris makes is any indication, when he bends down and takes Chris in his mouth, Chris' hips arching up and JC takes in all that he can, smiling around Chris' cock.
Oh no, he hasn't lost his touch at all.
Chris never expected JC to blow him but now he never wants him to stop. It's obvious JC knows what he's doing as he sucks and licks in a maddening rhythm. Sometimes slow, sometimes fast, that has Chris clawing at the sheets, fingers digging into cotton as he quivers, his whole body alive with feeling.
I should be doing this to you he says, forcing the words past the whimpers and groans caused by JC's touch.
JC pulls back slightly Why? I like doing it. and his words ghost across Chris' cock, making him shiver with their gentle touch.
It's what I do Chris says, the words spilling from his mouth before he can think and he bites back a groan that has nothing to do with sex and everything to do with how he feels inside as JC sits up slightly, pushing up on one elbow so he can see. He looks at Chris, expression solemn and lips damp and all Chris can think is stupid stupid stupid the first guy that's treated him like a person for a long while and he's just reminded JC of what he really is. Except JC suddenly shakes his head and smiles as he says Not tonight.
He ducks his head once more, and takes Chris' cock in his mouth, resuming the same crazy rhythm that makes Chris want to beg as he's pushed to the edge then pulled back over and over by JC's talented mouth. Fuck, JC, please Chris says and he is begging now, is unable to stop as he pleads for JC to go faster, to suck harder goddamit, please, please, please He feels like he's going to fly apart and reaches back, wrapping his fingers around the bars of the headboard, gripping so hard it hurts.
I'm gonna to fuck you now JC says suddenly as he stops sucking and rolls over, making the mattress dip as he moves to the side. Chris looks at him, the line of his back, the swell of thigh and ass as JC hangs off the bed, groping for something on the floor and he can't resist touching, unwrapping one hand and running his fingers across pale skin.
JC looks up at the touch and smiles before sitting up straight, a bag held in one hand. You ready?
The bulging muscle in Chris' arm that's still gripping the headboard draws JC's attention, and he slides his thumb along the line of it, pressing down lightly, watching it flex, and he licks his mouth.
He pulls lube and a condom from the bag, placing both on Chris' smooth belly, before taking off his own pants.
He looks at Chris, just looks at him for a long moment, long enough to make Chris squirm a little and he looks so damn good that JC wants to just skip straight to fucking.
He doesn't though, he wants to make this good for Chris, make it so good that he never forgets, and JC slicks his fingers carefully before pumping Chris's cock, once, twice, and then moving on, moving lower.
He brushes his thumb over the muscle, and Chris' legs spread. JC smiles. He's so damn responsive. He puts a little more pressure into his movements, and his thumb dips down, stroke, dip, stroke, dip, and Chris raises his legs, feet flat on the mattress on either side of JC.
JC presses a kiss to one of Chris' knees as he pushes in all the way, and Chris moans. More, he says, moremoremore and JC presses another finger in, and one more, stretching, scissoring, and he can't tell which one of them is more impatient.
He picks the condom up from where it's fallen to the bed, and holds it out for Chris, fingers still deep in his ass. Chris looks dazed, but manages to rip the package open, and JC slowly, slowly pulls his fingers free of Chris' body. He takes the condom and rolls it on himself, pours some lube in his hand and strokes himself, languidly, slowly, putting on a show for Chris.
He leans forward, lifting Chris's ankles to his shoulders and Chris bends gracefully in half when JC leans forward even further, his cock resting in the crease of Chris's ass, and Chris whimpers.
Shhh, JC says, just relax. I'll take good care of you.
Chris gropes for the headboard again with his free hand, grip tight as JC slides into him, steady and oh so slow. He's used to this, body readily adapting to JC's skillful thrust, but at the same time it's different, pleasure sparking as he stares up at JC. The way his bottom lip is nipped between his teeth, the concentration on his face as he pants softly, his hands hot against Chris' thighs.
At last they're together and the moment seems to stretch forever, pleasure on an endless repeat, as JC stills Are you okay? he asks, and Chris nods, unable to form the needed words. Good JC says and his eyes shine as he runs his hands up to Chris' waist, splaying them there as he starts to move. Slow at first, tiny shallow thrusts that do nothing but tease, and Chris wants to scream, to yell fuck me harder already but he doesn't. Just tips back his head and moans, bracing himself against the headboard as JC finally picks up the pace.
It's like everything and nothing that Chris has ever known, the act itself so familiar, the emotions something else as he stares at JC, locking into his gaze. He arcs his back, finding and pushing JC's pace as they thrust together, pleasure peaking fast. Please, please, please Chris begs, breathless and hurried and he can't stop however hard he tries, so he gives in, letting himself be swept away.
Orgasm hits fast, sweeping across his body as he gasps for breath, tensing as each nerve in his body spikes, making him tremble as he's hit with a wave of feeling that heats his skin and undoes him from the inside out, making him whimper as JC keeps thrusting. His hands white hot on Chris' belly as he murmurs so good, so fucking good as he thrusts impossibly harder still and all Chris can do is take it, hanging on and watching JC's face, the way he closes his eyes and tips back his head, all sweat slick skin and damp curls, until he tenses, coming with a deep groan.
There's something so amazingly powerful about making another person lose it like this, complete surrender, and JC revels in it, hands gripping tighter and hips going faster, deeper, harder. Chris opens his eyes and stares him dead in the eyes and JC feels the control slip out of his hands, his thrusts uneven as he comes.
He slumps down on top of Chris, breathing heavily, and Chris licks lazily at a drop of sweat by JC's temple. Fuck JC says, chuckling, and Chris mmmmm's his reply.
He could fall asleep like this, warm, spent, sticky, but this must be killing Chris's legs, and he probably doesn't like it when people are too clingy. He closes his eyes against that thought. JC thinks he'd like them to be more than what they are, thinks he'd like to get up in the morning and make them scrambled eggs and coffee, thinks he'd like to have Chris still be there when he returns from work.
Instead, he sighs and eases back of, sliding his hands from Chris' belly to his ass, squeezing lightly before running them up his thighs, to the crease where they bend, slick with sweat, and Chris starts. Tickles he murmurs, and JC presses the pads of his fingertips into the crease again, just to make Chris jump again. He does, and JC thinks he would like to spend days and days finding all of Chris' ticklish spots.
Instead, he pulls the condom off and ties it neatly before dumping it in the wastebasket. I'll be right back, he whispers, softly padding to the bathroom, wringing a soft washcloth in water so hot it scolds his skin.
Chris looks asleep when he returns, sprawled out on the bed, arms still above his head. JC thinks he'd like to tie Chris to the headboard and tease him until he can't remember his own name.
Instead, he climbs back on the bed, softly wiping Chris' soft skin with the washcloth, and Chris smiles sleepily at him. When he's done, JC perfunctorily wipes at his own stomach a few times, before dropping the washcloth next to the bed, crawling closer to Chris. JC thinks he'd like to curl up with Chris and sleep in his big soft bed.
So he does.
Chris wakes hours later. Overnight they've tangled together, his arm trapped under JC's body, their legs pressed close and Chris luxuriates in the closeness, lying still as he listens to JC breathe. It's a moment of peace he treasures, storing the memories for when he has to leave, and he will have to. Stories never have a happy ending and a handsome prince never comes along for someone like him. Chris knows that, has long given up on the happy ever after, so he lies and takes in details, creating his own memories he can revisit at any time. He sees the way the morning sun casts red into JC's hair, the contrast of shadow on his face, the feel of clean sheets against his skin and remembers it all.
Morning JC says, and he yawns, hiding his mouth behind his hand. Chris answers hey and sits up, looking around the room for his clothes. It's been good but it's time to go. Time to get out before the awkwardness sets in and something that seemed special is soured by the grim taint of reality.
Do you...I mean, are you going now? JC asks, and he sits up too, letting the sheet fall to his knees.
I have to Chris stands, deliberately looking away from JC who looks so damn good, sitting naked and unashamed. He finds his pants slug in a corner and pulls them on, grimacing at the feel of cold material against his skin. I've things to do he shrugs, leaving the details vague. There's no need to tell JC about how he spends his day, harsh realities don't belong in this room with its matching bedspread and curtains and what look like real paintings on the wall.
Can you stay for breakfast at least? JC asks, and Chris looks away, stalling for time, because yes he does want to stay, yes he does want to spend more time with JC but what's the point dragging the moment on? He should take his money and go, except when he opens his mouth Chris says I'd love to and is glad he did when JC responds with the biggest smile.
The coffee is almost ready, the toast is only minorly burned, and the eggs are good so far. JC smiles at Chris and says, No, the one on your right and Chris takes two plates from the cupboards, slightly on his tippytoes to reach.
He serves up the eggs and Chris pours the coffee, and they settle side by side on the stools, passing the sugar and pepper back and forth, and JC feels a peaceful sense of domestication settle in the room, the cling and clatter of forks and plates. He wants to enjoy the moment, and puts his free hand on top of Chris's on the table-top, his fingers filling in the spaces between Chris's. Chris looks oddly at him before resuming his eating, wolfing down the food at an impressive speed.
Okay, he says, standing up and pulling his hand from under JC's, I'm off.
Oh, JC says, because it's all too sudden for this to be over. You sure you don't wanna-- he scrambles to come up with a reason for Chris to stay longer, any reason - shower?
Chris looks up, cocking his head to the side, narrowing his eyes as he considers. I better take off, I have stuff. Thanks, though, he says, and JC nods, shoving his hands deep in his pockets. Chris looks expectantly at him, and JC shrugs his shoulders up to his ears.
Oh! he says, oh right. Sorry. He walks to the living room and Chris trails after him. He fumbles for his wallet in his coat and for a second considers pretending that he lost it so he can have Chris wait while he 'searches' for it. He pulls it out though, counts and pulls a handful of notes out, holding them out for Chris and doesn't miss the way his eyes widen at the sight of the cash.
Chris counts the money, pulling the single 20 out and lets it dangle between his thumb and index finger, arching one eyebrow.
Cab-fare, JC says, but Chris doesn't move. I drove you pretty far away from--- JC lets the end of the sentence fall away, but the unsaid seems to spur Chris into motion.
It's been nice, he says, and pushes the twenty into one of JC's front pockets.
He's gone before JC can say anything, and the only response he gets when he calls out Chris' name is the slamming of the front door.
Chris freezes as the door slams. All he wants to do is go back in, but he doesn't. Things don't work like that. This isn't a movie and cheap hookers don't get rescued from the streets. JC isn't going to sweep him off his feet and whisk him away. There's no happy ending, never has been, never will be.
He pulls his jacket around him more securely, keeping one hand on the wad of notes as he briskly walks away. It feels good under his hand, the money representing food and rent for the next week at least and he can't help imagining how he'll spend it. A cheesebuger and fries, a trip to the laundry, little things that mean so much.
Chris should be overjoyed, but he's not at all. He feels mixed up, emotions ragged and that's wrong. JC was nothing but a paying customer, he bought Chris, the same way men buy him every day. Except he didn't, not really.
JC may have handed over the money, but he didn't buy him, not the way Chris expects to be bought anyway, and that's a huge difference. One that makes Chris stop in the middle of the sidewalk and turn, fighting against the voice inside that warns don't do this. It won't work. Can never work .
Chris runs his thumb over the money again and all he can think of is the look in JC's eyes as he walked away and this is stupid and he's probably wrong about what JC wants. Should keep walking and never look back, chalking this up to one good night he'll remember for a long time. Chris *knows* that but that knowledge doesn't stop him slowly walking back toward JC's house. Each step making his stomach clench until he's finally back at the door, one fist raised to knock.
Then he steps back in surprise as the door is violently pulled open and JC runs past, stopping with a double take when he realises Chris is there.
I changed my mind Chris says when JC remains frozen in place about that shower, that is if the offer's still there and this time JC smiles wide, grabbing Chris' hand as he pulls him back into the house.
Of course it's still there JC smiles even wider and indicates a door Bathroom's through there, towels are in the cupboard when you're done He stops speaking then and the smile slips from his face as he looks at Chris. I was coming after you. Couldn't let you go and Chris nods as JC bends slightly, kissing him gently on the lips.
Chris responds with a kiss of his own, and standing in this hallway, JC's hands warm against his hips Chris thinks this is one of the stupidest things he's ever done. It's insanity and he's a fool to think there's more there than there really is. But he's going to do it anyway, because maybe this time there is a happy ending and it starts right now.
