“This is my first time, you know,” Justin's voice is coy, his eyes are slits, and he's writhing on camera in the bed.
Justin's face always looked good in that camera, even in the kind of frame that JC had gotten out of the first girls gone wild tape that Joey had ever had. Justin's head tipped back, clear blue eyes shining into the lens.
The camera barely even sees Justin's hand idly stroking his chest, dragging up and down. “You're gonna have to talk me through it.”
JC's voice is soft but amused. “You're doing fine, baby. You're doing so good.”
“Do you like me?” Justin asks, and even though he looks about twenty-one in this one, he sounds like he's all of fifteen, sweet and virginal. Justin's thighs parted with a naughty smile, directed to himself more than the camera, and his hand began to slide down his body.
“I like you a lot,” JC says, “but I'd like it a lot more if you'd get off for me.”
“I think I'd like that, too,” Justin grins, but grinds the palm of his hand down into the head of his cock. His mouth falls open as his hand closes around his cock. Justin's body arches in time with his long strokes.
“I can't see you, Justin. Let me see you,” JC orders. Justin's back floats down to the sheets.
“Baby,” Justin cries out, “Baby, I'm gonna come.”
“Look at me, baby,” JC says, and Justin grins. Suddenly, Justin's face, head on as it lays on the pillow at the edge of the bed, takes up every inch of the lens of JC's camcorder, as his orgasm hits into him like a tidal wave.
*
“Put that goddamn camera down,” JC smiles, his tongue pressed to his teeth.
“Aw, you don't like my camera?” Justin says from behind the camera.
“Justin, it's my camera, and for god's sake,” JC says. “I'm trying to write here, you know.”
“I don't want you to write. I want you to talk to me. Talk to the camera. Come on, can't have a tape like this without a little interpersonal monologue,” Justin says. “Or, you know, Flash a little cock for the viewers at home.”
“Yeah fucking right,” JC grins. “'The viewers at home'”
Justin's voice is high toned and squeaky. “Oh my god, JC. I absolutely love you and I want to know the man behind that salacious cock.”
“Fifteen year olds do not use words like 'salacious,'” JC says. “Unless they've been reading the dictionary to pass the time, and I only know one fifteen year old who got so desperate that he had to read the dictionary.”
“What, it's an SAT word!” Justin says.
“When did you take the SAT, Justin?” JC grins.
“I'm only twenty,” Justin says.
“Just answer the question,” JC says.
“Okay, okay, I've never done the SAT thing, and I 've never needed to.” Justin sighs. “But, hey. Don't patronize me. I'm supposed to be asking the questions.”
JC laughs at that, and Justin zooms in on his wide eyed stare of clean affection. “What kinda questions, huh?”
“Hmm, lets start with....” Justin pauses to think, and JC's amusement sparkled in his eyes. “What's your favorite ice cream flavor?”
“The one in the freezer,” JC says.
“Bastard.” Justin says. “Boxers or briefs?”
“None at all,” JC smiles.
“Top or bottom?” Justin asks.
“How old are you, again?” JC says and watched Justin's pout.
“Facetious, I tell you,” Justin hisses.
“Bad word choice, baby,” JC says, and Justin puts the camera down on the sofa to cross over to where JC is sitting and slide in for a kiss. “We're gonna have to put you through bus school all over again.”
*
“Is my camera on again?”
“Maybe?”
“Justin. You're going to chew out the battery. What's with the video diary, anyway?”
“I'll tell you if you tell me what's with the hat.”
“Fuck you.”
“Ready when you are.”
“I'm sure you are. But really. Which one of us is Pam?”
“You're the one with the bigger cock.”
“You're so vulgar.”
“Vulgarity is my specialty, baby. All dicks and cocks and pussies and ass and lubricant and...”
“Justin”
“...and...”
“Justin.”
“...and...”
“Justin. Enough with the porno talk.”
“What, we're making a porno, aren't we?”
“Who told you you could make a porn movie with my camera, huh?”
“The same person who told me, 'hey Justin, wouldn't it be hot if we tape us fucking?'”
“That was only once, it's not like you couldn'....what are you doing? Justin, Justin, be serious.”
“I'd be serious if you bent over a little more.”
“Justin, Justin....oh, wait...ahh, aah. Jus...nughn.”
“Yeah, we're so making a porno.”
“Is that your tongue doing that?”
“It's gonna be the best sex tape ever, too.”
“Mmh! Is that your fucking tongue in there?”
*
“So, what's with the underwear, huh?” JC asks, camera panning in on Justin as he came out of the bathroom. “Some function I'm too d-listed to know about?”
Justin snorts and takes the toothbrush out of his mouth. “Cameron asked me to have dinner with her tonight.”
“Aww, the fascinating personal life of America's sweethearts,” JC hisses. Justin laughs and walks back into the bathroom. JC gets up, camera in hand, and follows him. Justin was hunched over the sink, spitting the rest of his toothpaste out. “You told her about me yet?”
Justin looks up at JC's reflection in the mirror. “No.”
“You sleep with her?” JC asks.
“Sometimes,” Justin smiles.
“She a good lay?” JC says, his face stone cold.
“The best,” Justin clucks. “Looks good in a pair of panties, too.”
“Bet she does,” JC smiles, “Bet she does.”
Justin turns around, and JC zooms in on a pair of smoldering eyes and a naughty smile. Justin pulls the camera out of JC's hand, and focuses it in on JC before planting a kiss on the side of JC's face. With a small turn of his hand, Justin zooms in on himself as he whispers in JC's ear.
“Don't worry, baby. I'll think about you while I'm fucking her tonight.”
“You're just asking for it,” JC smiles, turning his head to look at Justin, eyes and lips in a tight frame.
“What're you gonna do, close your legs?” Justin growls. “Or maybe you'll just call Eva again. Always thought you were a sucker for double penetration.”
“Fucker,” JC says lowly, and Justin's smile oozes with cockiness.
“Bet you do that well, don't you?” Justin asks, and JC held the back of his head as they kiss, tongues and biting and Justin's long moan.
JC pushes himself away, and smiles mysteriously into the camera when Justin turns to focus on him, walking naked back into the bedroom.
“What's going on, baby?” Justin asks.
“Well, I'm sure Cameron wouldn't appreciate you as sloppy seconds, sweetie. Go have dinner with her. She needs you more than I do, right now, and besides, you look like you need some pussy, anyway.”
Justin makes sure to turn the camera around on himself and capture his no doubt surprisingly blank face before turning it off.
*
“Justin, why are we doing this on the stairs?”
“What?”
“Why do you want to fucking do this on the stairs?”
“Uh, because it's hotter that way?”
“Bitch.”
“Don't you mutter at me. I don't have to use lube. I'm really being nice here, honest.”
“And why are we doing this in the middle of a power outage?”
“It's more romantic that way?”
“Since when did what we're doing become fucking romantic?”
“Sorry.”
“Don't be that way. I wouldn't be doing it if I didn't want you to do it. I just...how are you going to do this in the dark?”
“I'm not going to.”
“What?”
“I need you to fiddle with the camera for a minute. My hand's already covered.”
“You're taping?”
“Uh, yeah. I thought that was obvious. I mean, it's not like I'm going to do this without a light of some kind, and I thought that while your flashlights are pretty powerful, why don't we just kill two birds with one stone?”
“This is not going into your sex tape, Justin.”
“Why not? It's kinda a hot scenario. I could Paris Hilton it, and do this in night vision, if you want.”
“Why are you trying to do tape this in the first place?”
“Just turn the damn light on.”
“This is gonna look like the music video from hell.”
“I don't care. It's hot. You're hot. What I'm about to do to you is hot. It'll be hot. You'll see. When you see it on your big-screen TV you'll turn to me and go 'jesus tittyfucking christ, this is the hottest idea you've ever had, Justin.' And besides, what's the point of making a sex tape if not to top all of the pornos you've ever seen?”
“I do not sound like that. And since when did you ever hear me say words like 'tittyfucking'. I hate titties.”
“Jesus didn't.”
“Heathen.”
“You know you love it.”
“Here.”
“Thank you.”
“I'm going to kill you if you land me in the hospital.”
“I won't. Trust me.”
“I...I...oh god we're really going to do this...I trust you.”
“Good. Come on, talk me through it. Need to know you're still conscious up there.”
“Twist your wrist a little bit, baby. Oh, yes. God, like that. Stretch me out.”
“Spread your legs a little bit.”
“We're in a stairwell, Justin. I can't.”
“Hold your leg here.”
“Oh!”
“Yeah.”
“Baby. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Do it, do it.”
“Hold your horses.”
“J...”
“Let me get a good shot of this.”
“Fuck you, do one fucking thing at a fucking time, <i>god</i>”
“You know, JC,” Justin said, zooming in on his wrist. “You are probably the only person who can act like a pissy bitch while I've got a whole fucking hand up your ass.”
“Yeah, well, I learned from the fucking best,” JC spits, and as Justin pushes in a little deeper, and adds a particularly nasty twist before lifting the camera to see JC screaming out in orgasm.
*
Justin smiles at JC and the camera, softly as he bent over the grill. “Couldn't bring yourself to upgrade, huh?”
“What, this old thing?” JC asks. “Couldn't bring myself to junk this one. Found all your old debauched sex tape reels, back when you said you were going to put together a sex tape.”
“It's always been a fantasy of mine,” Justin says, nonchalant.
“I used to be a fantasy of yours, too,” JC says, and Justin looked up from cooking.
“You don't think you still are?” Justin asks. “Is this one of those 'put your money where your mouth is' kinda bluffs? Because really, 'C. Not in the mood right now. All I want is some steak and a glass of Johnnie Walker.”
“It's not,” JC reassures. “Just, you know, reminiscing.”
Justin's eyes are watery.
“Don't cry on my filet mignon,” JC warns. Justin looks up, grin on his face, and laughs deep and hard.
“That's the best thing you've told me all day.”
*
It's an awkward angle, to have the camera at the head of the bed, them laying in each other's arms below it. JC looks up and can see that for the most part, he can't even see Justin's face in the screen. With a sigh, he tries to adjust it.
“I think I'm in love with you,” Justin says. “And Ray Charles. And perhaps pot.”
“I don't share,” JC smiles. Justin snorts in return, and pecks him quickly on the neck before licking a line down JC's collarbone and biting. JC watches his own look of happy surprise in the camera's tiny screen. “Bastard.”
“You'll share for Ray Charles and Pot, yo.”
*
Justin looks up at the camera, with soft eyes that had welled up with tears.
“Baby,” JC says, “What's wrong?”
“Turn the camera off, JC,” Justin sniffles, head in his hands.
“Tell me what's wrong?” JC asks.
“Turn the camera off and I'll tell you.”
A loud click, and JC sits the camera in his lap, still recording. “What's wrong?”
Justin's head slides upwards to look at JC. “Britney cheated on me.”
JC shuts the camera off for real, this time.
*
“How long do you expect this sex tape to be, Justin?” JC asks, and pans the camera out to see Justin laying back on the bed, with JC on top of him. He's wearing one of JC's shirts, salmon pink with a peaches logo on the front. JC focuses on it, focuses on the picture of this woman wearing a long fake beard stretched across Justin's chest, hard nipples popping under the fabric. Justin hisses as he wiggles under JC.
“Feature Length, I guess,” Justin answers.
“Hardcore feature length or feature film length?” JC remarks. “Because, you know, there's a three and a half hour difference between the two of them.”
Justin laughs, and smiles his golden boy smile, looking at the camera with determined eyes for a second before turning his head to look out the window. “Hardcore. People'll watch it. They won't be able to take their eyes off you.”
“For five hours, Justin?” JC asks.
“It's not like we have to conform and show every fucking sex scene we've taped, baby. There'll be sequels. I mean, I kinda want to get some of these conversations in, too. The men behind the cocks,” Justin sighs.
JC laughs so hard that the camera starts to shake. “Yeah, Justin. Right.”
“What?” Justin asks.
“You want sequels to our sex tape, for one. And you want us talking on this. You're hilarious. When's the last time you actually watched porn?” JC says.
“Don't need to when you're around,” Justin smiles. JC turns the camera around to face him.
“Aww, he's smitten,” JC grins, and squeals when Justin tickles him and takes the camera out of his hand.
“Of course I'm smitten, with a body like this one,” Justin says, and lets the camera rake over JC's body, a plain white t-shirt on, but naked from the waist down. Justin focuses on JC's limp cock, and smiles. “He's not bad on the emotional level, either.”
“Fuck you,” JC says, dragging his voice into a crescendo.
Justin lays backward, and aims the camera back up at JC's face. “Hey, baby. You're on top. You do whatever you please.”
*
Justin hits the wall with a loud thud, and JC bites at his lip before pushing his hand down Justin's pants.
“Slut,” JC hisses, as his hand collared Justin's neck.
“You're filming this?” Justin asks, but JC's hand closes tight around him, choking off his airway.
“You film everything else,” The venom in his voice is hot and low, filtered through uneven teeth. “Night vision and everything. And I'm gonna fuck you right here, right now against this wall.”
Justin makes an idle choking sound, as JC pulls his cock out of his pants. He opens his stance, even though he's in the dark, and claws around Justin's cock. Justin's hips buck into his hand, and JC leaned his knee in, holding Justin down.
“Look at you,” JC says. “Poor little helpless Justin. Choking and hard and absolutely loving every minute of it. Yeah.”
Justin's hands are free, and they go to pushing JC's hip down, and pulling JC's hand away.
“Don't you dare patronize me,” Justin hisses.
“Oh, no. You're going to take this even if I have to tie you down or beat it into you,” JC says, hand going back to Justin's weeping cock. “I'm going to get you to comply.”
A sharp twist and Justin goes lax against the wall. “Fuck.”
“That's right,” JC says, and takes no time pulling down Justin to his knees, and undoing his belt buckle and pushing down his pants. “Open your mouth, you fucking cunt.”
Justin reluctantly opens his mouth, and presses his hands into JC's hips.
“That's not going to work,” JC growls, picking Justin's hands off his hips and flattening the back of his palms on the wall behind him. “Keep them there, or you don't get fucked for a week.”
“A whole week?” Justin looks up at him.
“Fucking open!” JC barks, and Justin obeys. One of JC's hands reaches down to cradle Justin's head from the wall, the other sprawled out on the wall. He holds Justin's head in place and starts to thrust in hard. Justin moans hard, and JC simply laughs. “Yeah, you take that so good.”
A careful finger pulls Justin's mouth open even wider, and JC breathes in wild puffs of air. He angles his hips and starts working hard, fucking Justin's mouth. “Fuck yeah. Yeah. Oh, god, fuck. Yeah, I'm gonna come.”
Justin hums softly, and JC shoves his head all the way down into his lap, screaming against his arm and holding himself down in Justin's throat. When he's done, pulling away, Justin stays on his knees, pressed against the wall, and lowers his head to cough.
The low battery on the camera chimes; the camera shuts off.
*
“Justin,” JC says, as Justin comes in with the bags of takeout and the six pack of corona.
“Yeah, baby?” Justin asks. JC zooms in on Justin's shorts. “What's up?”
“Did you, uh, pick up the food and the liquor in those shorts?”
“What's wrong with them?” Justin asks with a charming grin. JC turns the camera to him, and Justin asks again. “What's wrong with 'em.”
“Justin. I can see your balls,” JC says curtly. “Please tell me you didn't wear those twink shorts to pick up the food.”
“These are twink shorts? I've had these jeans since I was twenty-one,” Justin says. “I mean, sure, I cut the legs off, and I've kinda grown a little bit. What do you mean by twink shorts, exactly?”
“I can see your balls, for one,” JC says, “And Justin, chicken legs, baby. Come on, turn around and let me and the rest of middle America see you.”
“Fuck you,” Justin grumbles, and turns around.
“And do us all a favor, Justin. Take your shirt off,” JC smiles.
Justin, with a leer, slips his t-shirt over his head.
“Look at all that skin,” JC smiles, “All that pretty, tanned skin. Did you do that yourself, Justin?”
“I did.” Justin grins. “You want to see how far my tan goes?”
“I'd rather see you bend over the table,” JC grins. “You'll do it, won't you?”
Justin arches his back while bending over the table, lifting his ass into the air. Justin smiles at him unapologetically. “You want me to undo these?”
“What's there to undo?” JC asks Justin while he sets the camera on a nearby barstool. “Let me do it.”
“So, uh, what should I do?” Justin asks. JC grins at him and pushes Justin down a little more into the tile with one flat hand on his back.
“Shame we can't get you another tattoo. Kinda want my name right here, so people can see who you belong to. Right here,” JC smiles as his fingers come to rest on the cleft of Justin's ass. JC leans out of the frame, hands sliding down the front of Justin's thighs before laying his head on Justin's shoulder. JC smiles softly, and undoes Justin's button fly with deft fingers, standing up and letting the denim fall from Justin's hips.
“JC,” Justin hisses, but JC's hand sliding over the side of his ass was enough to shut him up.
“You've got such a nice tan,” JC grins, and brings his fingers up to lick his palm before spanking Justin sharply. Justin arches his back and hisses. “Smooth and even. But who told you to sunbathe naked, who gave you the idea?”
“JC,” Justin wrenches, “She wanted me to be...”
Another slap. And another, and another. Justin's arching up, spreading his legs and presenting himself, squealing as he takes the abuse.
“Shut the fuck up, Justin.” JC hisses, licking a fingertip to slide it teasingly from the back of Justin's balls and up through his crack with a teasing stroke. Justin's cock, already hard, twitches against black cabinet faces.
Another hard spank, and JC stands back, arranging his hair before bending down on camera and running the tip of his tongue on the red handprint that marked Justin's ass. The same spit-wet finger starts to move around Justin's entrance, and Justin cries out as it slithers inside.
“C'mon, c'mon, c'mon. Please baby,” Justin groans, “I want to get fucked. I wanna get fucked so I can come. C'mon, fuck me.”
“Aww,” JC smiles, sharp tongue moving closer and closer to Justin's entrance. “Poor little baby. Can't come without something in his ass.”
Justin's hands grip the counter-top so hard that JC can see the veins popping from them. He waits a little longer, counting under his breath, and then takes his finger from Justin's ass, and slides his tongue in as far as it can go.
Justin's scream is ear-splitting as he comes, and afterward, JC makes sure to get a shot of Justin's ejaculate on the black cabinets.
*
The camera turns on to face an empty bed.
“Justin,” JC's voice hisses behind the camera. “You're an ass, you know that?”
“See, Justin. You never did try for me, I was also the good ol' standard, wasn't I. Safe, right? Yeah, safe,” JC says, walking to the bed and sitting on it, fully clothed. “Don't want to be out in the cold, right Justin? I bet I am.”
JC's cock is straining through his jeans, nipples tight under his shirt.
“You never really wanted me, Justin,” JC says, letting the statement hang like dead air in the room. “Did you?”
“I am the base model, right? You might like me, but you love her, don't you? You love Cameron, right? Random disappearances, beach getaways, million dollar dates? Why Justin, we may be a little on the unconventional side, but sweetie, you never did that for me,” JC says, idle fingers spreading across the fringe of his shirt, raw edged material giving way to pale toned skin. “You'd never do that for me, even if you could.”
The shirt slides off JC's body like liquid. “I think you only want one thing from me. The only thing you can't get from her, Justin. No matter how hard you try.”
JC sits back on the bed, and opens his pants. There's no underwear underneath and JC's eyes smolder softly before his hands start sliding his pants down around his thighs. His cock is half hard, head hanging. “Look at it. You're probably salivating over it, aren't you. You always want it inside you when it's hard. You always beg me to let you suck it. You always want to sleep with it pressed up against you. You always want me to come for you, don't you? Did you forget about that?”
A few deep breaths of air, and JC's shimmying the rest of the jeans off him, spreading his legs. “Or perhaps, you're just trying to work on your budding gay porn career. Perhaps it's time to further mine, as well.”
JC slides two fingers into his mouth, sliding them out and touching them tentatively to his neck, his nipple, the head of his cock. He lays back across the bed, his whole body in the camera's frame. JC sighs and whispers Justin's name before licking his palm and wrapping his hand around JC's cock boldly, pumping tortoise slow.
“You always act like a brat around me. Always want to come first, always want to come now, always wanting, always wanting. You used to beg for it, beg me for days when I turned you down but now? You don't even take it seriously, anymore. Like a spoilt little brat. I don't think you ever really did, Justin.”
JC smiles into the camera, one hand on his cock and the other above his head, wrapped in the sheets. He tortures himself that way, silent save the sound of harsh breathing, the scritch-scratch of sheets against skin, and the more-than-occasional groan. JC's feet are planted square in the sheets, making little wells as his hips jerk into his hand.
“Fuck,” he breathes, dragging out the last note as he shakes and dissolves into his orgasm. Into a screaming mass.
“You wanted that one, didn't you? Bet your mouth's watering after watching it. You know what, Justin? You can have a-fucking-nother one, too. I sure as hell know she can't make you like this. I'm sure you know it like I know it.” JC hisses, hand still working on his erection as it wilts a little and becomes hard again, hissing as another orgasm struck him shaking, cursing and powerless.
“You're never going to find this any other place than right here, Justin.” JC says, panting on the bed, covered in his own come. “And face it, baby. You wouldn't want it any other way.”
*
The camera's on the floor, and the only thing in the frame are two pairs of feet.
“Come here,” JC demands in a gruff voice, and Justin shuffles to him. There's the wet smack of kissing, and Justin's low moan as JC bites into his lip.
“What're you...” Justin begins to ask, but it fades away into a low moan.
“So, Justin, did you fuck her tonight?” JC asks.
“No,” Justin moans.
“You know you can tell me, Justin. I can't imagine keeping it in my pants around Cameron, either,” JC teases.
“Stop talking about her that way,” Justin demands.
“You're right. I should,” JC says.
“How can you, oh god,” Justin hisses, and his toes curl into the carpet as he moves even closer into JC. “Deeper, JC. Oh god baby, deeper.”
“So responsive,” JC's voice is monotone. “I guess I haven't been giving you very much attention, obviously. You're so tight right now. We're gonna have to do something about that, you know.”
Justin falls backward onto the floor, sitting so much that he blocks the camera, and JC's foot nudges him all the way down, flush to the floor. Justin crawls backward, and bumps into the camcorder, picking it up and aiming it at JC, who balances a foot on Justin's neck.
“Baby,” Justin says.
“I'm not your baby, Justin. This isn't a valentines day card,” JC says, foot sliding down over a naked chest and beautiful abs, all the way down until JC's foot rests conveniently in Justin's lap. Justin moans helplessly as it presses down gently on his erection, just enough to tease. “Now you listen to me. You don't get to have a choice tonight. You take what's coming to you, and you won't be pussying out on me. I own you tonight. You don't get a say in anything. You don't even get a say in when and how you're going to come. I don't want you to be submissive, but I sure as hell don't want you thinking you call the shots on anything. You don't call the shots on anything, and I'm sure you know that better than anybody else in this place. Put that goddamn camera down, undo your pants and spread your fucking legs as wide as you can. I'll give you something for your fucking sex tape.”
“Baby,” Justin says.
“Don't you fucking call me baby,” JC hisses, and Justin aims the camera up at his hands undoing the button fly of the jeans he had been wearing. “And can't you follow directions? Put the camera down, and take your pants off.”
This time, Justin obeys and puts the camera down at a rather awkward angle, his face somewhat in the frame, but not as much as the line of his body as he arches up and undoes his pants.
“Baby, don't look so worried,” JC says, and his foot slides back into the camera's field of vision, sliding down Justin's cheek. “You should be looking guilty. Not worried. Silly boy.”
JC's pants hit the floor and he steps out of them, laying down on top of Justin, and helping him shimmy his pants off like liquid. JC's head is bowed as he spreads Justin's legs wide, and sliding in close.
“Put it in, baby,” Justin pleads, grinding his ass against the head of JC's cock, so slick with lube that it might just pop in without effort. JC makes him take it all at one time, and keeps a steady pace through the first few minutes, slow and teasing, just enough to make Justin squirm. “Please.”
JC doesn't even bother kissing Justin, and he lets a sharp breath go before starting to move in heated earnest, hips popping rhythmically all the way down until Justin's screaming, moving with him, and trying to open himself wider.
“Please?” JC asks. “Love those southern manners. And look at you, sweetie. You know you've done something wrong, but you don't even know how to think about what it is, right? Poor baby.”
Justin hisses as he slides a hand between the two of them, one that JC pulls from his aching erection as it curls around tentatively.
“Oh, no. Don't do that. I want you to come because of me. You can still come because of me, right? Come on, baby,” JC whispers, and on a particularly nasty twist, Justin begins shaking.
“Yeah, yeah. Right there,” Justin sighs, and JC suffocates his mouth with a kiss, swallowing Justin's screams of orgasm. Languid, Justin melts into the floor, but JC still keeps going. “'C, god baby give me a minute. 'C, how're you still...”
“Did you think that'd be it, baby?” JC interrupts, as he slows down, “I'm just getting started with you, Justin. We'll be here, on the floor, Me driving you through these floorboards, all night. I'll have you writing checks your balls can't cash by the time I'm through with you.”
Justin winces at the sound of that, and tries to fight against JC's grip, which is surprisingly strong. JC stills on top of Justin and he shakes, crying out. “JC, what did I...'C, you're driving me... oh god.”
“I always wondered, Justin, if you come as quick inside her as you do when I'm inside you. Does she make you fall apart the way I do?” JC asks.
“That's what this is about?” Justin asks breathlessly, straining up against JC's body.
“No, it's about you and I, Justin, and how long I can possibly keep you in on this. And if I ever had you in on this to begin with,” JC says, and slides away to re-arrange Justin on the floor, lifting his legs to rest on shoulders, and opening them up to slide back in. “Look at you, taking me all the way like a pro. I wonder if you do this for anybody else. Do you?”
Justin's mouth opens and he gasps, but the realization of why JC's doing this makes it too much to take, and Justin tries to wriggle away, but JC holds him fast. Justin screams as he comes, hard, and melts again into the floor.
“Ah, now you get me. Shoulda known you'd be slow to learn,” JC hisses, and Justin throws his hips hard, “but look at you now. All sparkling madness.”
“Fuck you, JC,” Justin hisses. “You know I'm not cheating on you.”
“What's Cameron, then? You do more with her than you do with me,” JC says. “But when it comes right down to it, you can't live without this cock, can you? It's no matter, you were born to take it anyway. You're perfect for it.”
JC sighed and as Justin opened his mouth to say something, he bent downward to suck at a nipple, biting hard until Justin screams like JC is going to rip it off. Toes curled on JC's thighs, Justin tries to wiggle away again and fails, only to get held down and fucked even harder, until JC is panting and trying everything he can to hold back from coming.
“You stay still,” JC says, looking down at Justin with an intense glare. “You stay fucking still and take what you deserve. If all I am is a fuck-toy to you, then sit here and get fucked. I'm gonna wrench everything out of you, every little ounce until you can barely move and you've forgotten how it feels to get what you want. You don't have a fucking say about it. Stop acting like you do.”
“Please, baby, I can't...”
“Aww, Justin, how many times did you come with her if you can't give me any more than two?” JC hisses. The camera's low battery chimes again, and JC doesn't get his answer before it's off.
*
The camera idles by itself for a few minutes, in front of the same bed, in front of the familiar bedroom.
“Yeah, JC,” Justin says, as he pops into the camera's field of vision, moving gingerly as he slides his shirt off. There are swollen nipples and red hand prints on his ribs, finger-shaped bruises on his hips. “JC, baby, I know. I saw your tape after you left.”
He holds the phone onto his ear as he slowly sits onto the bed, undoing his shoes and sliding off his pants, no underwear underneath. Nodding slowly, Justin slides a hand over his neck, and the camera catches view of a set of teethmarks that flirt with the edges of a hickey on Justin's shoulder. “JC, listen for a minute. I'm sorry I did that to you. I didn't think you were gonna...”
“JC, sweetie, I'm sore all over after last night, you left me empty. I can still feel you everywhere,” Justin says, and hisses as his hand brushes one of his nipples, arching upward as it flutters over skin down to his hip and then further to his cock, limp and hanging on the sheets.
“Yes, baby. Everywhere, you ripped me open,” Justin sighs. “It hurt to watch you leave me this way. I can't even turn without thinking of you. Of course I learned my lesson.”
Justin sucks on a finger as he lays back, and plays with his bottom lip for a second. “Baby, you're insatiable. I'm telling you I've got nothing. I know you want me to, but I don't think I can.”
“I'm sorry, JC, I didn't realize that you'd be so...” Justin stops to caress his cock back to life, and lays further back into the bed while scratching just below the head. “She's not, we're not... We only did once, baby. I'm not lying.”
Justin listens to the phone, and plays softly with his cock, a few selfish pumps that are over too quickly for Justin to enjoy them, and he lets go of an idle moan. “God, JC.”
“JC,” Justin whispers. “I'm touching myself for you, baby. I'm trying to imagine a way to make all this up to you but all I can think about is your cock, and your mouth, and- oh god- your perfect body. Don't argue, it is perfect. Don't you dare say it's not. Oh goddamn baby, just thinking about your thighs gets me so hot, I could live between them forever.”
“Oh god, baby, look what you've done to me,” Justin hisses breathing hard and fixing his hand to clench around his cock again, stripping it quickly. “You've completely done away with my stamina. I'm gonna, please let me, god baby, please.”
And then it happens, Justin becomes a shivering, stretching mess on the bed, phone falling away from him as he screams and his hand stills on his cock, which is standing at attention and shivering itself although nothing's coming from it. Justin's back arches, his feet curl and his body clenches hard before it crumples back into the bed, but Justin relaxes again, gasping for air, Justin reaches for the phone again, and whispers a simple 'I love you' before turning the phone off and falling asleep.
*
“You two still doin' that shit, man?” Joey asks, as he claps his arm around Justin in a tight hug. “Just a pair of boys with some high hopes, right?”
“Something like that,” JC says, and the camera slides back into a wide shot before he pulls away from Justin. “Justin still thinks he can make an assload of money and get a lucrative sex-toy deal if we make this thing.”
“Like your girlfriend wouldn't want the colt brand JC Chasez rabbit-style vibrator,” Justin snirks. “Complete with ultra rotate action, yo.”
“She'd love that,”Joey smiles at him and the camera, “In a weird way, I think Kelly might want one, too.”
“As long as it's not sparkling pink...” JC says, “I don't really care. But knowing how Justin negotiates, it won't be long before he has his own robins-egg blue double dong.”
Joey snorts at that.
“Gotta make up for lost time with the ladies, yo,” JC says in a high pitched voice that obviously is supposed to imitate Justin. Justin laughs and holds up the bird to the camera. “Aww Sweetie, I know you want it but not in front of Joey. That's just impolite, Justin.”
“Heh, you two do what you must,” Joey says, and sneaks in the bill to give back to the waitress before Justin can reach for it and complain. “So good to see you again.”
“It is,” JC says, and his watch beeps. “Justin, that's our appointment.”
“It is?” Justin asks.
“Appointment?” Joey asks them.
“Bought an apartment, got to go to closing, you know how it is.” Justin says. “Gotta go, Joe, see you later?”
“Of course,” Joey nods at him, and waves to the camera before they get up and leave.
*
“Justin,” JC sighed, looking at the camera. “Are you wasting tape again?”
Justin smiles at him, from across the room, standing near the brick wall. “No,” he says, wistfully. “Come here.”
JC walks over to him, smiling. “You're in a good mood.”
“Let me look at you.”
“I'll do you one better,” JC says. The silence stretches between them before they kiss, softly. Chaste at first, soft and tentative. Justin groans, mouth opening to let his tongue flick over JC's lips. Justin smiles as his tongue touches JC's.
“Baby,” Justin grins, “You should take me to bed.”
“Why?” JC says.
“You make me hard,” Justin says, happily. “You make me hard and I love you because of it.”
Justin smiles, as JC takes him to the bed, pushes him down and starts to undress him. Justin let's JC's hands run all over him, sliding off layers of clothing, laying body to hard body with nothing between them. They kiss hard and sloppy, writhing on the bed in a desperate attempt to find ways to wrap around each other like snakes. JC gasps as Justin's cock rubs against his, like silk sliding against silk.
“Yeah,” He hisses as Justin gathers up the two of them in his hand and pumps them with a light touch. Justin's hand wraps a condom around him, and JC twists upward, groaning as he wraps his lips with Justin's, and lets himself be pushed over, until he's on bottom and Justin's let go of his cock so they can rub together again.
“Justin, baby,” JC says, easily under his breath. Their bodies roll together and JC lands on the bed with a thump, Justin sliding on top of him, letting him fall inside. Justin smiles evilly, and as his toes curl, he rides JC hard.
Justin speaks in snarls, groans, and arches his back hard while on top of JC, raising himself up off JC's cock only to plunge back down again. JC groans, and tries hard to push Justin over but Justin's as strong as a rock, and refuses to give any part of himself up.
“Toppy bitch,” JC groans.
“You love it, baby,” Justin smiles at him, an evil grin that only gets a sideways glance from the camera. He twists a little, mouth hanging open, and moans like he wants to come.
“Justin, come for me,” JC says, hands sliding down the slick and naked body on top of him, moving on him like gears of a clock coming together until he reached Justin's cock, stopping and stroking to the pace Justin had set.
“No,” Justin had said, sheepishly, and JC smiles at him, stroking him faster until he's damn near speaking in tongues, and Justin arches up into the final few strokes, pressing down into JC's hips, crying out. “Don't come yet, JC. Don't come yet. I want, oh god, I want to do so much before you come.”
Justin slides down kiss JC like quicksilver, languid but smooth, and starts moving on him again. JC hisses, and starts arching upward with even more power, until Justin's hard again. Justin drags his fingers down JC's abdomen, landing crudely in the puddle of come on his hips and slides them into his own mouth. He dismounts JC, and bends down to lick the rest of it before ripping the condom off and gathering JC up into a ball, and turning him around.
“Justin?” JC asks.
“Shh,” Justin says with a smile, and places a wet kiss on his back. The camera watches Justin place kiss after kiss on the backs of JC's hips, fingers falling smoothly into the arched groves of JC's hips, and Justin twists to take all of JC into his mouth, all the way down.
“Justin,” JC groans, and Justin's fingers dig into JC's hips and presses him down into the bed. JC's legs wrap around Justin's chest and his hands slide into Justin's curly hair, sliding upward, curling around Justin's head. “Justin, please.”
Justin's laugh is soft, and he smiles as his head bobbles on JC's cock. JC smiles, and comes hard in Justin's mouth, getting pushed back by Justin's hands, thumbs opening his mouth, and Justin smiles, sliding his lips over JC's, and letting the come drip tortuously slow out of his mouth.
JC tilts his head intuitively, and the camera's tiny light catches on the stream of come that falls out of Justin's mouth.
Perfect.
*
“So, what's this about pushing your single back?”
“I needed to work on it a little more. So I asked them to push it back again.”
“What? How far?”
“November, actually. That should be good enough, I figure. Record out for the holiday and all.”
“What do you plan to change?”
“It doesn't feel right. And what do you care? It means it can score your million records without having to worry about me anymore.”
“Fuck on a truck, JC. Go outside and cut me a switch.”
“What? First of all, I'm thirty, and certainly too grown for you to administer a southern ass whupin', and second of all, we're in a studio apartment, Justin. In New York City. Name one place where I can find a switch and I'll cut it for you. Really.”
“Fine, then.”
The lens cap fell from the camcorder, and suddenly, JC had been pushed down into the dining room table.
“Stay there,” Justin barks, and JC looks at the camera, obeying. Justin leaves the room, and returns after fixing his suit, and carts in an extra belt and tie.
“What are you doing?” JC asks.
“I'm teaching you some responsibility, Ass,” Justin hisses, and straps JC's hands clear across the table,to the back of another chair. He circles the table, passing in front of the camera, and settles behind JC. “You're never going to learn in the first damn place unless I do this. So I'm doing it.”
“What are you...”
“Giving you an old fashioned ass whuppin', that's what. Like the kind my mama used to give me,” Justin says, confidently.
“Justin,” JC says, tiredly. “Your mother never tied you down and gave you an ass whuppin'. In fact, the only time she ever admonished you was the time you smashed mailboxes. And perhaps the time you took Britney's virginity without marrying her.”
“Laugh all you want,” Justin says, as he undoes JC's jeans and belts them around his thighs tight. “You're gonna get your ass beat.”
“With what?” JC asks.
Justin undoes his suit jacket, letting it lay on the chair next to him, and his hands go to his belt. He undoes it and slides it from his pants, laying it in front of JC. He rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt, and loosens his tie a little.
“Justin, you're insane,” JC says.
“I may be insane, but you're a pussy.” Justin says, and picks up the belt. “Fifty strikes should be good, don't you think?”
“Fuck you,” JC snaps.
Justin shrugs cavalierly on camera. “A hundred, then. Shut up before I make you count and really embarrass you.”
“Justin,” JC says helplessly when the first strike lands on his ass, and the camera captures perfect contact, a straight line across his backside. Justin shushes him softly before striking him three more times in a quick succession. JC's head raises and turns to see the look on Justin's face, but Justin's free hand reaches up to anchor his head down on the tiny table and he strikes again.
“I could get used to doing this to you, you know.” Justin says, “Always was a fan of corporeal punishment. It's the English in me, I suppose.”
“There is no English in you, ass,” JC says.
“You know, I have a strap around here, somewhere. And a Ruler paddle. I know I bought one of those the last time we went to London.” Justin says, and swings wide to make the last strike hurt. “But that's for later. Now, since you're talking, I'm going to start over, And I want you to count off in tens. Don't argue with me.”
“You're insane,” JC says. “You've got me tied down to a table in your apartment.”
“You're right, it is my apartment. It's my belt, too, and it's not like you're a guest, anyway. More like an appliance, if you ask me. Count, damnit.” Justin barks, and swacks him six times, quickly, and then four more times with wider strokes.
“Ten, Jesus. Do you think you could do something about that accuracy thing? This is really beginning to hurt.” JC says.
“Stop being a brat,” Justin says, and the belt falls ten more times in quick succession. “It's supposed to be accurate. Damn northerners.”
“Twenty.”
Justin stops at twenty nine, and JC's already straining, “Well, at least you're okay with wanting it.”
JC screams on the thirtieth, stomping his foot as Justin backs away for a minute. The silence afterward lingers for a few wet seconds, until JC utters the word, “Thirty,” and Justin attacks him again, twenty quick strokes, and JC barely catches “Forty” and damn near misses “Fifty.”
“You're going to make me late for my interview, you know,” Justin says.
“Justin, This isn't helping anything,” JC says, shifting again. “The single's still going to drop in November, The album's still gonna drop late in the year. Maybe Early next year. You're going to have to deal with it. I'm not going back to jive and saying 'well, my boyfriend belted me until I came back here and decided to go along on schedule.”
“You make it sound like abuse when you're really into it. I see your erection behind those closed legs, Joshua.”
“I hate it when you do that while I'm tied up.”
“I can only get away with it when you're tied up.” Justin says, and paints another five strokes on his ass. JC's back arches, and Justin slides a finger into his mouth, licking it before holding JC's back with his other hand and reaching down to slide his wet finger in a line from the back of JC's balls clear up the cleft of his ass. He punctuates JC's strangled moan with an open handed smack. “See, now you're really into it, right? The way I figure, if I make this as bad as possible, you won't try to push your stuff back further than November. I know that doesn't really make very much sense, but you're beating a dead horse if you can't tell me what's wrong with it.”
“Does your hand count?” JC ask.
“You figure it out,” Justin says, picking up the belt loosely and striking more rhythmically, JC just barely choking out the words, as he goes along.
“One Hundred.” JC gasps, and Justin steps back and starts to loop his belt back into his pants. “I'm not going to be able to sit down for the rest of the month, thanks to you.”
“Stop exaggerating,” Justin says, exasperation in his voice. He walks out of the camera's frame again and returns just as quickly.
“Justin, what are you doing? Fuck, these knots are tight,” JC says.
“Cameron taught me how to tie that one. Said that every boy needs to know how to tie a boy scout knot. We were climbing at the time,” Justin smiles, as he sinks to his knees, belting together JC's ankles. “Fucked her right after, you know. Tied her down to the rock and everything. It was hot, yo.”
“You little asshole,” JC says, and tries to wriggle out of the knot again. Justin smiles at him.
“You aren't going anywhere anytime soon, baby. Probably'll be there for a good part of the night. Hope you didn't have anything else to do. Shame I can't put you to good use right now. You look like you need it. But I've got something that'll help you out with that, 'C.”
“You annoying little fuck,” JC says. “I'm going to kill you when I get out of this.”
“I don't appreciate death threats, thank you very fucking much. At least one of us has a career and people to appease. If I were a lackadaisical asshole, I'd cancel my appointment and teach you a lesson about saying shit you didn't mean, but I'm not, and so you're going to have to get over this kind of shit on your own. I should leave you here like this, but I'm a nice person, and I'm going to get you off,” Justin says. “I hope you're in a better mood afterward.”
“Go, Justin,” JC says, pressingly. Justin flips open the top of a bottle of Astroglide, and spreads some over his fingers. He lubes JC quickly, his face looking around as if to find a clock, and cursing under his breath about being completely off schedule. “Who taught you words like 'lackadaisical', anyway?”
“What? it's an SAT word,” Justin says, and finds the vibrator he had gotten from the bedroom, he prepares it to slide inside JC. “I don't have time to deal with you anymore, so you're just going to have to take this and hold out until I come back. Which might be a very long time. Can't say I have you tied up at home to a reporter, now can I?”
“You fucking fuck,” JC says, and moans brokenly as Justin slides the vibrator home inside him, turning it on with a quick flick.
Justin wipes his hands on JC's shirt, and looks at JC trying to keep his balance on a tiny dining room table. JC's already arching and moaning, and Justin delivers another quick open handed smack before picking up his jacket and leaving. His voice is amused and happy, like the past hour hadn't just happened, “See you tonight, JC. Don't come too much, baby. Save some for me, okay?”
“I'm going to kill you when I get out of this,” JC sobs, voice ragged and wanton.
“You can kill me when I get back, JC. I promise,” Justin says, and throws in a fatherly 'behave' before shutting the door. JC, stuck there, wriggles on the table.
“Justin, this is not funny. Justin,” He says, breathless, and starts jerking as the vibrator increases steadily in speed. The camera's microphone can hear the little motor working, and JC's moans turn into whines, then back into long, needy cries.
Justin's name is mixed in with countless expletives when JC comes, body twisting whipcord tight while screaming.
*
“I have a present for you,” Justin says, the camera in his lap, looking at JC stand in the door.
“You do?” JC asks, softly. Justin zooms in on him, running the camera over glossed over eyes and lips that have been soaked red with wine. His face was a jumble of perpendicular lines, deceptively stoic as he looked at the camera.
“It's by your feet. Sit down and open it,” Justin says. JC looks at him, and sinks down to the floor. There's a box next to him, and JC pulls it into his lap. He opens it, slowly, and looks up at Justin after running his fingers through black fabric.
“I want to wear it for you.” Justin says, and JC brings it to his face.
“Turn the camera off, Justin,” JC says, as stiff as any statement he's ever made, voice solid and unwavering.
“JC, that's a little unreasonable, don't you think?” Justin asks.
“Turn the camera off. I need to talk to you. Turn it off now, Justin.” JC says. Justin zooms in on his face, eyes as hard as iron, tongue poking out to wet lips in desperation, “Please?”
Without another word, the camera flicks off.
*
The camera flicks on in a hotel room, at the top of a skyline, dark and beautiful.
“Sweetie,” JC grins, tongue skirting over soft lips. “You have expensive taste.”
“What does that mean?” Justin asks.
“It means it'll probably take what you make in a night to get what you want.”
“I think, I think I'll be fine with that,” Justin says, walking away. “I think I'll be fine with you, like this. Wanted it for so long when I was away from you. I want it now. I want you now.”
“You do, huh?” JC asks, a dry smirk on his face.
The silence hangs so dense in the room the camera can almost see it.
“Show me,” Justin says. “And the kids at home.”
“The kids at home,” JC says, walking back to the window. His hair is curly, and he's wrapped in a kimono, black and white and meant to be worn by a woman, no doubt. He looks over his shoulder as the top of the kimono sags, revealing untouched skin of JC's back. “Thank you for making me seem like a lecherous whore.”
Justin brings the camera close to him, and turns it on the two of them as the kimono drops, faces close and hungry. Justin looks into the camera and JC looks down at the hand crawling to his waist, undoing his belt. “You are no lecherous whore. I've missed you, needed you for too long to call you something like that. I want you to fall apart in my arms, you know. Want everybody to see it, to see you.”
“This isn't a romance novel,” JC warns. “This isn't flowers and chocolates and every stunt you used to pull.”
“It's not supposed to be,” Justin whispers idly, and his free hand wraps tight around JC's neck. JC hisses, hard and tries to fight against Justin but does not escape. “Sometimes I wish I could kill you.”
“Justin,” JC groans, “Justin, fuck me.”
“Figured you'd say that,” Justin says, softly. His hand slides across JC's neck again closing in. “Sometimes I wish I could take all that precious voice right from you. Sometimes I wish I could take everything from you. Everything.”
“Justin,” JC sobs, panting hard, “Justin, turn the camera off.”
“But why, JC?” Justin's voice dips into a hot whisper. “I want people to see you coming apart under such simple motions. I want them to see you, falling to pieces and be envious, so envious of what I have.”
“Justin,” JC says, heaving, voice lifting, body shaking on camera. Justin's hand closes around his throat again, staying so long that JC starts gasping for air Justin doesn't allow him to have, and his body stiffens with an orgasm that comes too soon. His face clenches up, mouth open in a silent scream, sobbing for air when Justin gives him a taste before clamping on his throat again, hands pounding against the window.
When JC's finished, Justin's hand falls away from his throat, and he lets JC turn and kiss him breathless while heaving for air. JC's voice is gruff, partly because of his strained throat and partly because of the sex, as he moans in Justin's mouth, throwing himself into the kiss like the camera's not even there anymore.
“Justin,” JC says. “Turn the camera off.”
Justin blinks, breathless. “I lo...”
“Don't you fucking dare,” JC says and does something that makes Justin hiss. “I don't want anybody but me hearing that. So you're going to fucking turn the fucking camera off. If I ever hear you say that on camera, so help me god, I'll...”
The camera shuts off before JC gets to finish his sentence.
*
“One thing you don't know about Justin is that he looks beautiful in a dress. Absolutely stunning,” JC says, and zooms in on Justin's legs, hairless and skinny. “Look at those legs, those feet in their heels.”
“Come on, JC,” Justin says to him. “I want you to fuck me. Right now, baby.”
“I'm getting to that part,” JC grins, and the camera travels up Justin's legs to see beautiful thighs covered by a dark red dress that seems to be riding up due to Justin's erection. JC's fingers timidly peel back the fabric, and see crimson red boy-short cut lingerie.
“You evil little bastard,” Justin groans, as JC presses the fabric down into Justin's skin, scratchy lace against soft hair and skin.
JC takes his time sliding Justin's dress his chest, and there's another beautiful layer of clothing with Justin's girly underwear, legs unselfishly parted and hand in his panties. “You're so hot, this way.”
“I did it for you,” Justin divulges, and groans when JC runs a finger over the red PVC corset that he wears. JC places the camcorder on the nightstand, and kisses Justin's already swollen with lip glossed lips as he takes off the bra that Justin's wearing under his dress, making the dress fall flat as it collapses onto his chest, and groaning as JC takes his hands to wrap them around his cock, pulling it free from his panties. Pumping softly, JC watches as Justin's arms lift and he tries hard to pant, but his body is still constrained by the boning of his corset.
“You're so calm,” JC says, bowing his head to kiss Justin's glossy lips. “Justin. God, you're beautiful this way.”
“I want you to fuck me,” Justin hisses, “I want...oh god.”
JC smiles, and slides out of camera range.
“Your teeth,” Justin says hotly. “God, yes, your teeth. Baby, I can barely move for you. I can't imagine not doing this with you, baby, oh god.
JC rises back into the camera's frame, and slithers to stretch his body over Justin's. They share a long kiss, tongues sliding together in open mouths. “You're all wet and ready just like every other girl I've been with.”
“I'll take that as a complement,” Justin grins when he gets flipped over, and leans forward to rest his head on JC's shoulder as he gets pushed down on JC's cock. He lets himself drop before taking every ounce of strength he has to lift himself up before dropping back down. JC smiles, and lets Justin slide off him, laying on his side.
Justin's face takes up half of the frame, when he falls over on his side. Justin gasps when JC enters him again. Justin winces, softly, but a moan falls from his lips afterward and soon he's looking like he's lost in ecstasy, head down, face plastered in makeup that doesn't look right on high cheekbones and pale skin. JC groans as he starts to thrust in earnest, and Justin cries out softly as shakes into his orgasm, one hand clutching at his dress, the other clutching at JC's hair, directing his head to Justin's lap for a long kiss.
“You're so hot,” JC whispers to him, and Justin grins as JC comes, as well.
*
“JC,” Justin says, camera in his hand. JC looks up at him, cheeks blustery, mouth tight. “What do you think you're going to do with your half of the millions we're gonna make off this.”
JC's face splits into a wide grin. “You're not honestly going to put this type of thing into production, would you? Your whole career would be absolutely ruined because you let me fuck you on camera.”
“I don't care about my career when you're around. I care about being with you,” Justin says. “And I know what you're thinking: that I don't mean that, but I do. Honestly. One day, when I'm old and middle aged, and forcibly bald and my leg parting washboard abs disappear, I hope I'm with you.”
“You are ever such the romantic, Timberlake,” JC says. Justin holds the camera away from him, and kisses JC on the cheek.
“I'm trying to be comprehensible and perhaps a little bit quixotic, here,” Justin says.
“Justin, I'm all for SAT words, but really? Quixotic?” JC asks. “That's a stretch.”
“It still qualifies,” Justin laughs, as he sits atop JC's lap, fingers skirting over JC's cheek. “I want to marry you, one day. You can even wear the tux, if you want.”
“I think your mother would have a heart attack if you were standing on a church altar wearing a Vera Wang wedding gown,” JC says, face moving into Justin's hand.
“Who said it was going to be a Vera Wang gown? I always dreamed of wearing Gucci on my wedding day, when I was a little boy,” Justin says.
JC rolls his eyes and smiles wide again, “Figures.”
*
The camera clicks on and focuses in on Justin's head in JC's naked lap. Justin's eyes are open, eyelashes batting on JC's naked skin, mouth opening and nose smashed into JC's skin.
“Yeah,” It's a hot whisper, dripping with JC's dry accent, “you do that so good, Justin.”
Justin moves upward for air gasping with broken lips and swollen mouth. JC's cock is aggressive, red, sloppy as it sticks up in the air, and JC smiles. “Give me a second.”
JC laughs. “You need a second? Best cocksucker in the state of Florida needs a second? Yeah, right. You take a second and then get your head back on my dick.”
Justin smiles, and takes a gasp of air before sinking achingly slow onto JC's cock again, taking the head into his mouth and swallowing inch by inch, all the way down until he's hollowing his cheeks and twisting his head. JC's hips arch a tiny bit, gyrating as he fucks Justin's mouth, a hand going into Justin's curly hair to grab and pull, keeping him still. Justin looks at the camera, batting his eyes before closing them as if to revel in the taste, the girth of JC's penis.
“You like this?” JC asks. Justin nods against his hand, and when JC pulls him away, Justin keeps his mouth open and waiting. “Tell me I'm too rough.”
“JC,” Justin keeps his eyes darting between the camera and JC's cock. “You're wrecking my throat, baby. Can you be a little less rough?”
“You take it, bitch,” JC says, and slides Justin's face back into his lap, watching Justin swallow him all the way down. JC's hips work harder than they did before, twisting up into Justin's mouth. As Justin's eyes close harshly and JC keeps him there until Justin's idly choking, trying to play it off, but shifting all the same.
“Tell me how you like my cock,” JC says as he lifts Justin up off his cock.
“It's the best cock I've ever had,” Justin says, and looks like it's truthfully there, off the cock. “Fuck, JC. It's the best cock I've ever tasted.”
JC keeps Justin's head still, and smears the head of his cock against Justin's lips before letting the head slide in.
“Look at that adorable face.” JC says. “Look at America's fucking sweetheart sucking my cock. In broad daylight like the bitch he is. Isn't it so sweet? I'm going to come, Justin, You know that? You feel that?”
Justin looks up expectantly and JC presses his head all the way down again, letting him adjust to the thick feeling in his mouth and his throat all the way until JC's arching his back and growling as he comes.
When Justin lifts his head, he looks like he is happily drunk and JC leaves the camera on when Justin tries to swallow softly before groaning and laying back on the chair with JC.
“Go inside,” JC orders. “Get prepared.”
Justin yanks the camera out of JC's hand, and licks his lips before shutting it off.
*
The camera zooms in on a hand that struggles as it's tied down to a leg, ankle to wrist.
“Justin,” JC groans. “Justin,why did you have to put me in this position, huh?”
“Because it'd be the best for everybody to see Just how pretty you are. You are the most perfect bondage model ever, I mean, Just look at how your cock wears that lacing? And your hips? I think your muscles are flirting with me, as well. Quite reminiscent of Baroquian figures, I believe.” Justin says from behind the camera. He runs the camera over the apex of JC's legs, where he's spread open and hairless, balls cinched together with leathered string that wraps around each one of JC's balls, and penis wrapped up tight in the same design, tied tight in four corners across the head.
“You and your fucking SAT words. I bet you couldn't even sass your way out of a paper bag, right now,” JC says. “Quit talking trash.”
“Sass?” Justin asks, running a cautious hand over JC's ass cheek, nails leaving red marks of scratches in their wake. “Hold on, old man, need to get that glass of water for your dentures.”
“Whippersnapping motherfucker,” JC grumbles and Justin laughs giving a lighthearted smack to JC's ass.
“Don't forget that this whippersnapping motherfucker can do whatever he wants to you right now. Old men need enemas, occasionally, don't they?” Justin smiled.
“You wouldn't dare,” JC gasps.
“Try me,” Justin says easily.
“I would if I could move,” JC says, “By the way, did you have to put me up in this position?”
“What? Is it killing your knees? Did you break a hip?” Justin asks, sarcastically. “It's all about communication, sweetheart. And by the way, I did it because you look downright beautiful this way, always ready to get fucked, right? You're aching for it, aren't you? Fucked you twenty minutes ago and you still can't get enough.”
“Not like I got to come out of that one,” JC grins and Justin places the camera right next to him, JC's face taking up most of the frame.
“You won't get to come out of this one, either. But I bet that's not what you want, anyway. I bet you just want to get taken for a ride.” Justin sighed, and JC's head sunk into the sheets with a long groan. Justin's hands crawl up his back, and bury themselves into JC's hair, laughing and giving a playful pull.
“Justin, please,” JC moans into the sheets, into the camera and Justin groans, holding onto JC's shoulders before laying down next to JC and moving over him. JC looks at him, his mouth falling open softly, “Oh god, faster.”
“What? You don't like it like this?” Justin asks, and kisses JC's neck. “I think I like it just fine, JC. At this pace, I could stretch you out all night, you know.”
JC groans, looking backward over his shoulder and panting softly. “Fuck.”
“Yeah,” JC says, and he gets pulled out of the frame by a powerful hand in his hair, as he cries out and the bed starts to shake. Long moans intertwine, and panting reaches a long crescendo of half-said words and Justin's long, shaking cry. JC hits the bed with a bounce as Justin picks up the camera, and focuses on JC's back.
“Look at this, look at you, JC.” Justin says, hotly, and zooms in crudely on JC's ass, and he slips his finger all the way into JC,letting the come drip out of JC's ass. “JC, I think you just got your fucking pornstar union card, baby.”
“Fuck, Justin.” JC groans.
“Yeah, baby,” Justin says, sliding his finger in deeper and making JC cry out in tension. “Fuck is right.”
*
“Justin,” JC says, “I want you to fuck yourself for me, baby.”
“We're in a bus in Iowa. On my tour. Christina's in the other room, She could walk in right now.”
“And you don't think that's hot?”
“It's a little too hot, JC.”
“You know it makes you hard,” JC says, “Look, If you let me tape it, I'll do it with you. When it gets too much, you can just reach over and touch me, okay? It's not the worst place in the world to do it. You could be in a shopping mall full of zombies.”
“I'd jack off in a shopping mall full of zombies. Given I was in a place that took a little work for the zombies to get to me,” Justin says. “Alright, I'll do it. Just tell me what the hell you want me to do.”
“Look at me for a second,” JC says, and when Justin does, he zooms in a little. “You're beautiful.”
“You're corny,” Justin says. “Good thing I'm already hard. And feeling particularly submissive.”
“Are you, baby?” JC asks. “Show me that body, then.”
Justin found the seams to his shirt, and pulled it backward, over his head, the shirt left on the floor. “Like this?” Justin asks chastely, all washboard abs and golden-boy skin. His face looks innocent, and he wet his lips, softly.
“You're a little slut, aren't you?” JC says, and there's shifting before JC picks up the camera again. “Finish the job, whip it out.”
Justin croons and looks through his eyelids. “I don't know.”
“You don't have to, Take off your pants,” JC orders, and when Justin covers his crotch with his hands before undoing his zipper and arching his hips, legs wide open as he reveals his already red and leaking cock.
“This what you want?” Justin asks him.
“It is,” JC says. “I want you to touch yourself, Justin. Lay back, and open your legs, and grab that cock.”
Justin, impishly smiling, did as he was told, and waited for aching seconds before starting to stroke. First softly, a tease, then a hard pump that makes him cry out, toes curling into the sofa, hips arching into his hand.
“Baby, I'm going to...” Justin whispers.
“Stay with me, Justin. I don't want you coming, yet.” JC says. “you stay with me.”
Justin looks off camera, and freaks out, grabbing his shirt. “Christina!”
“Inconsiderate fucks,” Christina says, walking across the camera frame. “Can't invite me in on a little self-love time, boys? Afraid of a little clit?”
JC drops the camera.
epilogue
“What's proper, you know, porn star etiquette? Like, do you offer a hand job or do you just shake their hand or do you just smile and keep your distance?” Justin asks.
“Are you honestly going to go?” JC asks, standing over a pot of marinara sauce.
“Yeah, why not? I want you to come with me,” Justin says, wrapping his arms around JC and resting his head on JC's shoulder. JC's skin smells like warm sugar and sandalwood, and Justin kinda likes the alliteration of that. “Smells good.”
“Why would I possibly want to come with you for that?” JC asks.
“Well, we could win best fetish of the year, for one thing,” Justin says. “If 'I Just Vomited on your grandma's foot while it was shoved up my cunt 12' doesn't take it. I think we're stiff competition. And best amateur. We've got that in the bag.”
“The video was leaked, Justin,” JC says. “And you're going to own up to it?”
“Have you seen the finished product?” Justin asks before breaking away from JC and leaning against the counter top.
“No,” JC says.
“Really? I mean, I know you were on tour, and I know your publicity team told you to deny, deny, deny, but I thought someone would have gotten you to watch it,” Justin says. “It was hot shit, man. Cam even though it was hot. Had her hand down her pants the whole fucking time.”
“You watched it with Cameron?” JC says, plainly. He picks up the spoon, and skims the top of the sauce, throwing out the skin before dipping the spoon in to take a sample. “Taste this.”
Justin looks at him with a soft smile before letting his lips slide over the spoon. “It needs some more garlic, actually. Good, though. Yeah, Cam saw it. She said she thought you were acting like the other woman, in some parts, but your performance was envious. Said you were as good an actor as you were a singer. She really believed that you were that toppy in real life. So, wanna see it after dinner?”
“I don't want to see my own sex tape, Justin.” JC says. “Especially after that review.”
“Come on,” Justin says, pouting, “I'll even suck you off while you watch it. Beginning to end.”
“I don't think I want a three hour blow job, Justin,” JC smiles. Justin kisses him, softly, a tease and then leaves a series of butterfly kisses over his face. “Stop. You'll make me burn my sauce.”
“I want to make you burn something else,” Justin grins. “And it's four hours, not three.”
“That's so wrong.” JC says.
“So wrong, you don't want to be right?” Justin asks.
“Come here.” JC says, and kisses Justin again, lips smacking with Justin's, “I'll go with you, but I'll watch the video on my own time. I just want to have a nice meal with you, and you're not going to mention vomiting and cunts anywhere within the conversation, and you're going to behave, for once. And when we get to bed, we're going to be like a normal couple for once.”
“Normal? No cunts? What does that mean?” Justin asks.
“No cunts,” JC shakes his head, and kisses Justin again. “I thought you liked being normal. Now go and set the table.”
“Okay, honey,” Justin says for a tense and patronizing second. “But let's be honest. If we don't win best gonzo, it's only because the fuckers who edited together the movie didn't put in the part with the fucking machine.”
JC looks up at him again, and laughs. “Loved that scene.”
“As much as you love me?” Justin asks.
“You better watch out before I get you one of those things,” JC says. “Go set the table.”
Justin grins, takes the plates from the cabinet, and leaves.
It's then when JC realizes just how much he loves that kid.