Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/83552.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Popslash
  Relationship:
      Lance_Bass/Chris_Kirkpatrick
  Additional Tags:
      Established_Relationship, Blow_Jobs, Ficlet, Pre-Europe
  Series:
      Part 3 of Great_Ficlet_Meme_of_2004
  Stats:
      Published: 2004-01-13 Words: 785
****** 03 ******
by mickeym
Summary
     Chris/Lance, pre-euro.
Notes
     In January 2004 I participated in a vague sort of meme going around
     LJ, where people could request ficlets, specifying a pairing/
     character, and either a scenario, a couple of words, or an idea.
     There are 33 altogether, across five or six different fandoms
     (including crossovers), and ranging in rating from G to NC-17.
for trixiesfic
God, he was tired. Scary-tired. He dozed off once at the long light on Belmont,
waiting for it to turn green. The car behind him, full of teenagers with
nothing better to do but cruise Orlando at the witching hour, honked and
shouted obscenities until he startled awake, hit the gas and headed forward.
All Chris wanted right at this minute was his bed, and nothing was going to
keep him from that.
He stripped off in the bathroom, showered and brushed his teeth, and crept down
the hallway, trying not to stub his toes or walk into any walls. The door
closed behind him softly, a quiet *snick* swallowed up by the darkness. The
first rumblings of a late-night thunderstorm were beginning as he crawled into
bed, sparing one wistful glance across the room at the pale blond hair peeping
out over Lance's blankets before he pulled his own up over his head and let
sleep claim him.
It was a fucking fantastic dream, a hot wet mouth moving over his chest, his
neck, tongue stroking over his nipples before dipping lower. Chris moaned and
shifted, growled softly when his fingers stroked through soft, silky hair.
Blond hair, he knew as he came awake. He didn't even have to see it. "Lance-"
"Shhh." White teeth flashed in the darkness, a predatory smile Chris knew well
enough by now. Easy for him to say, it wasn't his dick being tickled and teased
by warm, moist breath through thin cotton shorts. "Just relax, Chris."
"We're gonna get caught, dude-" Sometimes Chris wished he had more willpower.
Or less. Something. He groaned low when Lance did that-thing, with his tongue.
He wasn't even seventeen years old, for Chrissake. How'd he get so good at
giving head? He did it again, a quick flick with the tip of his tongue,
dragging it over the slit, and Chris shuddered. "Lance, Jesus."
Thunder rumbled again, loud and ominous, and Chris was glad since it covered
his gasp - too loud! - when Lance swallowed him down in one smooth, continuous
motion. He bucked and arched and tried to remember he was twenty-four, not
fourteen, and he could control himself just a little bit. He wasn't going to
come on the first stroke, right? Right.
"Do you, too," he mumbled, fingers teasing over his chest. "Lance-touch
yourself." He'd watched Lance jerk off a couple of times; it was probably the
hottest thing he'd ever seen. Lance made some sound low in his throat - it
vibrated around Chris' dick and he bit his lip and shivered, pushing up toward
the sensation. Another low vibration he recognized as laughter, but how since
his brain was scrambled now, he didn't know.
He lost himself in the hothotwet of Lance's mouth, eyes closed against the
flashes of lightning, seeing streaks of light behind his eyes anyway, but
probably not from the storm. The heat inside him increased when one slick
finger eased back behind his balls, stroking over the tight muscle. Chris
clenched the relaxed and groaned when Lance stroked inside, one finger, then
two fucking him slowly, then faster, keeping rhythm with the sucking and
swallowing around his dick. He wanted Lance to fuck him, wanted to feel a
hardsoft body against his, skin warm and slick with sweat, but it wasn't going
to happen tonight. He arched again and again, hand clapped over his mouth so he
couldn't scream out loud, and came hard, ears ringing with the thunder pealing
overhead, lightning zig-zagging down his spine like the streaks outside.
He's still tingling, body sparking pleasantly, when Lance shifts up over him,
hand already wrapping around himself. Chris watches Lance's face go lax with
pleasure, watches the shivers ripple up and down his body as he strokes
himself. Not slow or easy, but quick and almost-rough; Lance is more than
ready, from the sheen of sweat glistening on his skin in the faint light in the
room. Chris reaches out and cups Lance's balls, rolls and fondles them while
Lance strokes, and he feels his own toes curl when Lance draws in a deep breath
and holds it, body shaking as he comes, the warm splatters hitting Chris' belly
and chest in sticky drops.
They cuddle together afterward until breathing slows, evens out, and then Chris
fishes under his pillow for the small package of babywipes he stashed there,
against stolen moments like this. Lance shivers when he drawers the cool damp
wipe over him, and Chris kisses him slowly, gently at first, then deeper,
falling into him as they tangle together again.
He'll still be tired in the morning, but it's so worth it, he can't really
bring himself to care.
~fin~
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