Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/82357. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Underage Category: Multi Fandom: Popslash Relationship: JC_Chasez/Chris_Kirkpatrick/Lance_Bass Additional Tags: Established_Relationship, Porn, Threesome_-_M/M/M, Europe-era, Plot_What Plot Series: Part 2 of Porn_Saga_of_DOOM Stats: Published: 2003-06-08 Words: 6107 ****** Unwrapped - Porn Saga of DOOM, part 2 ****** by mickeym Summary It's JC's birthday, and Chris got him a special present. Notes Four time zones. Three continents. More smut than you can shake a stick at. Three porny threesome stories, all set in Germany. by Mickey M., halo, Without Me and Slim By The Filthy Foursome: Without Me, Slim, halo, and Mickey M "Dude. Why so glum? It's your birthday." JC shivered when Chris kissed his neck, tongue lingering just long enough to wet the patch of skin behind his ear. "You should be all smiles! Happy! Excited!" He hummed in JC's ear and bounced out of the way when JC swatted at him. "You're gonna get us in trouble," he hissed softly. Chris smirked, but put a few more inches of space between them. "It's--all new. Everything. And I'm excited, but--God, man." He watched the people moving around them, photographers and assistants and Johnny's assistant, and people who didn't speak English, or much English, and he was twenty and had a record contract, and his head hurt. He just wanted to curl up with Chris for a little while. And maybe see if he could puzzle some more out of him on the mysterious birthday present Chris kept teasing about. Whatever it was, it had Chris all ramped up--well, moreso than usual. JC shivered, thinking about some of the possibilities, and bit his lip. By the time the day's last picture was taken, his head was throbbing so badly he didn't even care about presents. All he wanted was a dark room somewhere, and maybe some blessed quiet. What he got was a boisterous dinner in some German restaurant, with Joey toasting him every five minutes until Justin nearly passed out under the table. Chris had slipped him a packet of pills in the van on the way over; he couldn't read the description, but Chris swore they were for headaches, so he swallowed them with some beer, and after a few minutes they did ease the pain enough that he could eat, and even smile a little. It was nice to have people who wanted to celebrate with him, even if it wasn't the way he'd have chosen. The noise level in the room just seemed to increase as the hour got later, though, and he was starting to grit his teeth (which he knew wouldn't help the headache any, but he couldn't help it) when Lance stood up, ducking his head a little. "I'm sorry, guys. I know it's C's birthday and all, but... I'm really beat. Would you mind if I headed back to the hotel? Y'all don't have to come, I can find it by myself." JC's offer to go with was heartfelt, but Chris pulled him back down onto the bench. "You sure you'll be okay, Lance?" Chris asked, and JC blinked, then turned to look more closely at Chris. There was... something in his tone, but Chris just stared back at him, and JC shrugged it off. Probably just the headache making him oversensitive. "I'll be fine, Chris. Y'all can check on me when you get back, if you want." "I will, Bass," Chris promised. "So no getting lost on the way, right?" JC couldn't help smiling. Chris had a protective streak a mile long. He tried to make it into a joke, but JC knew how serious it was to him. He wasn't sure if it was one more round of beer or two after Lance left, but finally the others were ready to leave, and then it only took twenty more minutes to hunt down the waiter and pay the bill. At last they were out on the sidewalk and headed to the hotel. Joey and Chris flanked Justin, linking arms with him to keep him from tripping over the rough cobbles, and JC took up the rear. It probably only took ten minutes longer than normal to walk the few blocks. By the time they made it up the stairs to their floor, all JC was dreaming about was his bed. He was sharing with Lance, and Chris was with Joey, so he was a little surprised when Chris came up behind him as he was unlocking his door. JC turned and leaned against the wall for a second before he went in. "I'm really tired, Chris," he whispered, glancing down the hall to make sure nobody else would hear. Chris just smiled. "I know, baby." "Can we wait for my birthday present until tomorrow?" His head was really throbbing now. Chris smiled bigger. "If you want. But let me just come and tuck you in, okay? Besides, I promised to check on Lance." JC frowned a little. Lance was in there, maybe not even asleep yet. It wasn't like they could do, well, anything while he was in the room. He didn't think Chris was thinking things through very well. But Chris' eyes were so warm, and he was still smiling up at JC, and JC was so tired that he didn't put up a fuss when Chris opened the door and pushed him inside, one hand between JC's shoulderblades. Then for a second he blinked, and wondered whether he'd walked into the right room. Instead of the harsh overhead light, the room was lit by candles glowing on the nightstand and the dresser. They were just those little red cemetery candles that he'd seen in the grocery store here, but still. Candles. JC looked harder at Lance's bed to see if he was there, if he was sleeping with candles burning, that couldn't be safe at all, and suddenly Chris' arms were around him and his back was against the door. "Happy birthday, C," Chris whispered, before leaning up and kissing JC, open- mouthed, his tongue sliding over JC's lips. It felt so good that JC almost forgot for a second that Lance was asleep four feet away in the middle of a fire hazard. Almost. "Shhh." He tried to push Chris away a little, but Chris just moved down to kiss his neck, lips and teeth and gentle suction. "Lance is sleeping," JC tried to whisper rather than whimper. A low hum and a rustle of bedclothes told him otherwise. JC looked over at Lance's bed again, focusing harder this time, now that his eyes had adjusted to the dim light of the candles. Lance was sitting up on the bed, wearing just his boxers. Looking very awake. Watching them. Watching them intently, JC realized, trying to push Chris away. With intent. He hissed when Chris bit down gently, mouth warm and wet against his neck. "Chris- -" "Happy birthday," Chris whispered again, painting the words on his skin with the tip of his tongue. "Didn't wrap your present too well, but I think it'll be okay." He traced over JC's Adam's apple, then the hollow at the base of his throat where his pulse hammered. JC whimpered. "Look at him, C." Another lick. "He's ready. So ready." JC looked, then shuddered involuntarily. "Chris, we. I--" Chris slid one hand down JC's chest, cupped his cock through his jeans. Not hard yet, but definitely interested. "He's--" He closed his eyes as Chris stroked and rubbed, then startled when a mouth touched the other side of his neck. "Lance--God." "Happy birthday, C." Warm mouth, hot, moist breath trickling over him, and JC wondered if his knees were going to hold him up. Lance. Lance was--he was young. He didn't, he couldn't--but God. JC knew he needed to say something, to stop this, but somehow his brain wasn't working all that great. This couldn't be happening. Two hot, wet mouths against his neck, two warm bodies pressing up against him in the humid darkness. JC leaned hard against the door, hanging onto the doorknob with one hand, the other hand scrambling for some purchase on the wall. A second later, somebody grabbed that hand and pulled it down in front of him, and his fingers grazed something even hotter than the lips against his neck. Hotter, and much harder, poking at his hand through thin cotton. JC turned his head, and there was Lance, right there looking at him, eyes glowing luminous in the candlelight. "Okay?" His whisper was soft, but not hesitant. JC could see the look on his face. Hunger. Oh, God, and then Lance was kissing him, ohgod, and JC could hear Chris whispering "yeah, yeah" in his other ear. Chris. Chris was older. Chris took care of them. Chris thought this was okay? JC felt himself sway a little, maybe toward Lance, maybe just giving in to gravity. Lance's hand was warm on his side, steadying him. "Oh, C, you're really not feeling good, are you?" JC didn't know how to answer. Was he feeling good? His head was still pounding, but now other things were starting to look more important, too. "Headache," Chris murmured, and Lance made a sympathetic noise. "C'mon." Two sets of hands urged him forward; just a step or two was all it took to get to the bed. "Lie down," Lance whispered, and JC thought he'd probably do anything Lance told him to in that voice. "Let us make you feel better, C." It was so easy. Too easy. To let them stretch him out on the bed, not to object when Lance smoothed fingers over his temples, soothing away the worst of the ache, then moved lower to open the buttons of his shirt, his mouth following the path mapped by his hands. Chris perched lower on the bed, rubbing JC's feet, then working his way up ankles and calves, as far as he could reach under JC's pant legs. Chris apparently wasn't happy with limited access, though, because after a moment he scraped his fingers back down JC's legs then smoothed them up again, this time over his pants to his waistband. He groaned when Chris pressed firmly over the erection pushing hard against his fly; the relief he got when the pants were undone and spread open was almost palpable. "Ooh, someone's been a dirty boy," Chris muttered, and JC bit his lip when warm breath ghosted over his cock. "Lookit, Lance. We worked getting you wrapped up, and he was going commando the whole time." More moist, warm air, and then Chris licked, just the tip of his tongue, over his cockhead. JC growled softly; the sound faded into a whimper when Lance laughed low and leaned in to kiss him. Just a soft brush of his mouth over JC's, but oh, God--so good. JC turned a little and Lance touched his face, pressed his mouth more firmly, tongue licking at JC's lips, teasing at the seam between them. "Please," he whispered, and opened. Lance kissed very differently from Chris; not hesitant so much as just maybe inexperienced, but deep and wet just the same, slicking his tongue around and over JC's, a low, teasing rumble purring out of him. JC moaned into Lance's mouth when wet heat slid the full length down his cock. JC couldn't help it; Chris' mouth was more than he could handle and keep still. He rocked his hips up, lifting one hand to tangle in Lance's hair. "You want this?" he said--gasped, really. "You sure, he's, we're not--" Lance silenced him with a growl and another kiss, cool fingertips trailing down his throat, then feathering over his chest to his nipples. Light, soft brushes, like butterfly kisses, and JC's skin ached with wanting more. Chris was taking him deep, teasing him with his tongue, and JC was afraid Lance's mouth might not be enough to muffle the sounds he was bound to be making. JC's head was spinning by the time Lance licked his way out of the kiss, leaning his head to rest on JC's cheek for a moment. "Want this," Lance breathed, so low JC almost couldn't hear it. "Want you." Then, even softer, "Want you both." Lance looked up, then, his eyes wide and dark, hope and desire written so clearly JC's conscience couldn't even try to make them into anything else. "Shit," he breathed, letting his eyes slip closed for a moment, just to process--well, all of it. Everything. So much swirling inside his head, words, sounds, colors, real and not-real all at once. They planned this, he thought, the two of them, together. All of this. And that somehow made it so much more than just--whatever this was. He still wasn't sure. "You goin' to sleep on us?" Lance, breath ghosting across JC's lips, his fingers stroking JC's jaw. "Guess we'll just have to work on keeping you awake." The warm slide of his mouth across JC's lips again, the taste of beer as his tongue slipped inside, and JC moaned softly, Lance swallowing it down. He moaned again when Chris' teeth scraped gently along the length of his dick, up over the tip, a wet slick of his tongue following. "Lift up, C," Chris said softly, and JC tilted his hips, almost by reflex, shivering when Chris slid his pants down his legs, and then off. "Look at you," Chris murmured, his mouth pressing wet heat into JC's skin as he worked his way back up, "all spread out for us." "Chris, I--" "Shhh." A gentle nip to his belly, and JC arched up helplessly. Oh god, oh god. "You like that, huh?" JC nodded, not sure he'd be able to form words, even if his life depended on it. "You'll like this, too." Chris' hands were warm as they wrapped around his hips. "Roll over on your belly, baby. And spread your legs nice and wide." Oh, god. He knew what Chris was going to do, even before he'd gotten the words out completely. This was. God. His brain burned at the thought, never mind the heat shimmering and curling through him. JC shivered and shifted, helped out by Chris and Lance. He felt Lance slip his shirt completely off him as he rolled. "So pretty," Chris murmured, voice low and light. JC trembled when a single finger slipped down between his cheeks to rest lightly against the tight muscle there. "C'mere, Lance." The bed shifted, and then there was silence, followed by a soft, slick, wet sound, and JC twisted his head to see Chris kissing Lance, licking into his mouth. In the dim, flickering light, Lance's hair gleamed, and JC watched his body quiver when Chris stroked his free hand down Lance's chest, then back up to curl around the back of his head. Lance moaned when Chris pulled away, and JC saw him lick at his lips. He wondered what it was like, to taste two people at once like that. "Shift wider, C." Chris stroked his hands up the insides of JC's thighs, fingernails scritching gently. JC wiggled and shifted his legs apart, and it struck him then how wide open he was. How exposed. And Lance, standing there-- Heat crawled through him, but embarrassment or lust, he wasn't certain. A combination of the two, probably, coiling hot and tight in his belly, pooling in his groin. His cock throbbed hotly and he rubbed downward against the bed. Chris chuckled and rubbed his finger against him again, pressing lightly. JC whimpered. "Please--" Chris made a soft, agreeing noise, and there was a lower, rougher one, and then warm hands spread him even wider, and JC groaned when liquid heat stroked down over him, lightly, teasingly, ghosting over his skin, leaving him wanting so much more. So much more. JC pressed up, helpless to hide what he wanted, even knowing Lance was watching. He wished he'd drunk less at dinner, so he'd be better in control of himself. Or drunk more, maybe. So he wouldn't be so aware of what he must look like, the picture he must make. But Chris' tongue moved on him again, still soft but maybe--maybe?--a little harder, or was that just his imagination? JC put his face down into the pillow and tried not to moan. With his eyes closed, he could pretend. Pretend it was just him and Chris, nobody else in the world but the two of them. Chris, who'd have his mouth somewhere on JC 24 hours a day if he could. JC'd never met anyone who was so. Enthusiastic? Whatever. He was grateful for it, God yes he was, and Chris was licking harder now, vertical strokes alternating with slow, teasing circles, not inside JC yet but he knew it was only a matter of time, only a question of holding out, not giving in to the urge to grind down on the mattress and let the building tension find its release too soon. Chris' hands were firm on him, holding him open, and when another hand touched his hair, stroking, JC gasped, his face heating with the embarrassment he'd managed to forget for a few moments. "Beautiful," Lance murmured, before JC could say anything. Lance's fingers traced his cheekbone, urging his head to one side, and then Lance's lips were against his again, heedless of the awkward angle. "You're so sexy, JC." Lance's words were muffled by skin and bedding, and JC wasn't sure he'd heard right when Lance whispered, "Will you let me? I want to, so bad, and Chris said, it was okay if, if you..." "Yes." The word was out before he was even really aware he'd spoken, his brain taking a moment to catch up with everything else racing through him. Heat chasing shame chasing need, and JC already knew which one would win out, because God, Chris' tongue...and now Lance--wanted to. Wanting. "Yes," he said again, "oh God, Lance, yes." Lance smiled, leaning close to kiss him. A slick, wet kiss, his tongue licking over JC's teeth, tasting him, his fingers tightly wrapped in JC's hair, pulling his head back. "Thank you," he whispered into JC's mouth, a final lick across his lips before pulling away again. JC could feel the trail of Lance's fingers--over his shoulders, tracing along his spine, brushing over the curve of his hip. And still, the slide of Chris' tongue, teasing, flickering, not nearly enough. He rolled his hips, trying to push back, needing more, but Chris' hands held him in place. "Wait," Chris said, hot moist breath against JC's skin and okay, that was just torture, because fuck, how could he just stop? JC groaned and shifted restlessly, pressing himself into the bed, the friction against his dick feeling so, so good. "Shameless boy," Chris murmured, and JC couldn't argue because he was, he knew this, but c'mon-- "My turn," he heard Lance say, and the weight of Chris' hands on his hips was gone for barely a moment, before another set took their place. Lance, JC thought, and if Chris' hands had been warm, Lance's felt as if they'd scorch his skin, shifting over the curve of his ass, spreading him open even wider. He felt Chris and Lance shifting on the bed behind him, then there was another breath across his skin, and oh. Oh, God. Lance's tongue, slick and hot and somehow different, moving on him. Circling, tentative at first but getting stronger fast, more confident. "Yeah, that's it." Chris. "Just like that, Lance. Then, like, make your tongue flat, and lick across him." Whispering, one hand against the small of his back, the other--he didn't know, but he'd bet somewhere on Lance. The back of his neck? Angling him right? Oh, fuck, both of them, back there, doing this to him right now. "See how he jumps?" Lance hummed against his skin, sounding satisfied, still licking, and JC jumped again. Couldn't help it. "Fuck," JC whispered into the pillow, his voice shaky with want. The mouth was at his ear before he even felt Chris move. "Oh, yeah. You know it, baby." JC twisted, turned his head for Chris' kiss, deep and hungry, tongue and lips and teeth all at once. Then Chris drew back a little. Smiled. "It's your birthday. You know you're gonna get everything you want." JC groaned as Chris kissed him again, the sensations almost too much to bear, Chris at his mouth, Lance behind him. He could feel Lance, feel strong hands holding him open, the slickness of his tongue as he alternated between circles and long licks, the slight stubble of Lance's chin against his ass--funny, because you could hardly see it in daylight, but in the dark it prickled against his skin. And then Chris was gone, licking his way back down JC's spine, slow, murmuring against his skin. Lance got more urgent as Chris came nearer, his tongue pressing wet and mobile against the knot of muscle, and JC heard Chris' whispered command at the very same moment Lance obeyed him--"inside." The moan came from deep in his chest, almost a sob. So good. So good. He pushed back, helpless to stop himself or even to try, and Lance didn't hesitate, just gave him what he wanted, deep and wet, so sweet, so fucking sweet. "God," JC choked, grabbing the pillow to shove in his mouth. Can't make noise, can't--oh God, even more than usual, can't get caught. "Yeah, baby." Chris again, close by, murmuring. Petting his hair, running soft fingers over his cheek. "That's good. Someday, C. Next year. We'll go somewhere for your birthday, somewhere private. You can make all the noise you want, yeah?" JC nodded, teeth grinding on cotton and feathers as Lance's tongue dipped inside him again. Privacy--that kind of privacy--was something he couldn't even imagine, but it was a nice fantasy. Not that he needed fantasies right now. Not hardly. He didn't dare spit out the pillow, but he looked up at Chris, trying to get his eyes to say what his mouth couldn't. Begging. Chris just looked at him a moment, then nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Okay." He bent closer, kissing JC's cheekbone. "I'm gonna take care of you, take good care of you. Gonna make you come so hard." JC shuddered, the words hot on his skin and under it. "And then," Chris murmured, "then we're gonna fuck you. If you want. So be thinking about that, hmm?" The words echoed in his ears so long JC thought his brain might have exploded, but Chris just kissed him again, softly, and moved back down the bed, murmuring to Lance for a moment before reaching under JC's hips to--oh, God, yes--wrap his fingers around JC's aching cock. The warmth of Chris' fingers on him, the feeling of skin on skin, finally--it took all the self-control JC could muster not to rock himself forward once, twice, and just come there and then. He was close, so close, the slick wet heat of Lance's tongue against him, God--inside him...he didn't think he'd ever been so turned on in his entire life. When Chris' fingers tightened around his dick, stroking him slowly, he wanted nothing more than to shout out, groan, anything--because, oh God, that felt so fucking good--but he knew he had to be quiet. Had to. And somehow, knowing that made it all so much hotter. Somehow Chris seemed to know that too, seemed to sense it, because he murmured softly, "Remember, baby, gotta be so, so quiet, okay? Can you do that?" JC nodded, because oh yeah, he could. He really could--as long as Chris and Lance kept doing just what they were doing. Chris, jerking him off with long, slow strokes, and Lance's tongue, his incredible tongue--licking wet heat into him. Over and over, and JC breathed through the ripples of warmth shimmering through him, concentrating on making it last as long as he could. He wanted this to go on forever, wrapped in a haze of heat, of moist breath, of pure pleasure. He was sure his skin was glowing with it, burning from the inside out. And then--oh God--Chris did something with his wrist, changed the angle somehow, squeezed just a little tighter, just something--and JC's toes curled, his whole body tensing, white-hot, electric. He vaguely heard someone say, "c'mon, that's it, c'mon"--Chris? Lance?--he wasn't sure--and he was arching helplessly, his belly pulsing, hips rocking forward, coming harder than he could ever remember, thick wet heat spreading between his stomach and the bed. The sheets were sticky under him and his body was still twitching long after the thrusts stopped. He had to force himself to breathe, gasping for air. "Fuck," he heard someone whisper, behind him, above him, and he didn't know how he could even hear it over the blood still screaming through his veins. "So fucking hot." And yes, it was Chris, he knew that now because--god, god--Lance was still licking, long, wet strokes of his tongue, pushing in slowly, fucking him deeper than before. If it ended right now it would be enough, it would. But then he felt them shift, felt Chris pulling Lance up, away. "C'mere, Lance. Come and look at him." Chris' hand went under JC's shoulder and rolled him over on the little bed. The mess on his stomach was cool when the air hit it, and JC felt himself blushing a little, looking up at both of them in the candlelight, their hungry eyes shining back at him. Lance's mouth was still open, and he was panting, fuck, his lips wet and red, and JC could almost feel that tongue in him still, and it was all he could do not to spread his legs and beg. "You guys," JC cleared his throat a little, "have too many clothes on." "Good point," Chris said, and JC could see the grin on his face in the flickering candlelight. "C'mon Bass, help me out here." He raised his arms, and Lance took hold of the hem of his t-shirt, lifting it over Chris' head and tossing it aside. Chris' pants were next to go, Lance helping as Chris shimmied them down over his hips. "Better," JC started to say, and then, oh God--Lance leaned in to cover Chris' mouth with his own, and JC could hear the slick, wet sounds of the two of them kissing, could see flashes of tongue, of full, red lips. Chris' fingers were wrapped in Lance's hair, pulling his head back, and as JC watched, his other hand trailed down Lance's chest, over his stomach, down to his crotch. He heard Lance's soft moan as Chris' hand cupped and stroked Lance through the soft material of his boxers, and heat flickered along his skin. "Fuck," he murmured softly, and Chris pulled away from Lance's mouth to look over at him with dark, dark eyes. "He tastes like you," Chris said, licking his lips. "So hot, C, tasting you on him like this." He turned back toward Lance, nuzzling his neck, Lance's head tipping back, his body arching into the touch. "Want me to make him come for you, baby? Want to lick him clean when I'm done?" JC could see his hand moving in a slow, steady rhythm, jacking Lance through his shorts. "He's so turned on right now, C--you have no idea. So hard, and his cock is so hot in my hand." "Yeah," JC managed, because fuck, it was hard to get enough air into his lungs to breathe suddenly, "Yeah, Chris. Make him come. I wanna see." He snaked a hand down to one of his nipples, rubbing and pinching the nub of skin, feeling it bud up under his touch, his belly tight and hot with arousal once again. The sounds of the two of them kissing, and JC didn't know whether to watch that--the slick slide of tongue against tongue, Lance's soft moans--or the steady motion of Chris' hand working Lance's dick, the front of his boxers already damp with pre-come. Lance was rocking into Chris' strokes, rolling his hips, his body responding to every little touch. It was hot, so hot, watching the two of them kneeling there together on the bed, Chris working Lance's dick through his shorts with one hand, the other arm looped around Lance's waist to support him. Kissing, with tongues and teeth flashing in the candlelight. Lance held on to Chris' shoulders, pushing his hips forward into Chris' hand, growling deep in his throat whenever Chris pulled back for a second to look down at JC. Watching them like this, all skin and sweat and shifting muscles, JC knew that he'd wanted to see this before, that he'd looked at Lance and wondered what he'd look like--sound like--when he was falling apart under someone's hands, lips. Wondered without even realizing it. How had Chris known, when he hadn't himself? And then Lance was shuddering, shaking against Chris, his forehead tucked into the curve of Chris' neck, and JC pushed himself up, sitting up so he could see better when Lance started to come. God. Oh, God. Lance groaned, low, as Chris' hand twisted over his boxers and a wet stain started to spread. Chris caught Lance's mouth with his--to stop the sound, JC knew--and his hand moved faster. And Lance, God. Quivering and jerking against Chris, and JC knew just what it felt like, to be pulled as tight as a bowstring and then released that way. Did he look like that when he came, too? That wanton and out of control? That beautiful? Chris looked at him and smiled, like he knew what JC was thinking. JC blushed. And then Chris was lowering Lance to the bed, nudging JC over so there'd be room to spread him out on his back, and JC was a little sorry about the wet spot from earlier, but it didn't seem like Lance minded too much, boneless and blissed-out as he was. "Here you go, baby," Chris whispered, still panting a little. "Happy birthday to you. Clean him up good, now." JC bit his lip and--fuck, how did Chris know?--tried to stop his hands from trembling as he peeled Lance's boxers down. Lance's softening dick was nestled against his hip, flushed and wet, his dark blond curls slick and messy, matted to his skin with spunk and sweat. A quiet whimper drew his eyes away from Lance's crotch and up to his face. Lance was staring at him, eyes big and dark. "Can I?" JC whispered, and Lance just nodded. He shifted a little, until he was kneeling between Lance's spread legs, feeling the heat coming from him, smelling fresh sweat, and the musky scent of sex. And God, the taste of him when JC slicked his tongue over Lance's belly-- saltbitter, heady, spreading thick over his tongue, filling him up, uncoiling spirals of warmth through him. He licked long, wet strokes across the soft, flushed skin of Lance's stomach, reached a hand up to cup his balls, then licked along the length of his dick. Lance whimpered softly, rolled his hips a little, his hands fluttering down to twine in JC's hair. "Oh," he murmured, "oh, JC--" "You taste good." JC traced his tongue around Lance's bellybutton, flicking it inside, then licked a wet trail up to his nipples, sucking and biting gently as he went. "So, so good. Here, let me show you." And he shifted again, until he was kneeling above Lance, straddling his hips, then leaned down, licking at Lance's mouth. "Open up," JC breathed against his lips, and Lance did, groaning softly when JC slicked his tongue inside. Just knowing Lance was tasting himself sent another surge of heat through JC, making his cock pulse and throb, already half-hard again. Long, wet, slick kisses, Lance arching up against him, groaning softly into his mouth and God, that felt so fucking good. Feeling him writhing underneath, his fingers tightly curled around JC's hips, pulling them together, so very close, skin to skin. "So fucking hot, man. The two of you. God." Chris, and JC felt the warmth of his hands sliding over his back, tracing along the length of his spine, slipping over his ass. Then Chris himself, pressed against his back, and JC could feel how very hard he was. "Want you," Chris whispered in his ear, nipping at the lobe with sharp little teeth, "want to fuck you, C." JC shuddered at Chris' words, at the need in his voice, and felt Lance's body echo the shiver beneath him. "Fuck, Chris, yeah. Fuck me." He pulled his knees up higher along Lance's sides, arching his back, lifting his ass up against Chris' dick. "Just do it. Please." Under him, Lance's eyes dropped closed as he breathed "please, yes" against JC's lips, then licked his way back into JC's mouth. His arms slid up from JC's hips to his back, then up to his head to hold them together as they kissed. JC was hardly aware of Chris' fingers sliding slickly into him from behind, but his body responded, his thighs opening even wider as he straddled Lance, his hips pushing back on Chris' hand. Wide open. And then the fingers were gone, and there was pressure, and weight, and fuck, fuck, Chris was pushing in from behind and Lance's fingers were twisting in JC's hair just like their tongues were twisting in his mouth, and JC's dick was trapped tight against Lance's hip while Chris leaned up and in and bit JC on the back of the neck. JC almost screamed into Lance's mouth, remembering just in time quiet, quiet and turned it into a sound that he didn't think he'd ever made before. But then, he'd never felt anything like this before, either. Chris moved inside him, snaking in by degrees, and JC could hear him, feel him whispering against his shoulder, his voice almost breaking with the strain, "oh, C, oh, fuck, so hot, you have no idea, kiss him for me, kiss him now," and it wasn't like JC had to be told twice, he was already kissing Lance and he wasn't about to stop now. But would it be greedy to want a little more? He turned his head to the side a little and opened his mouth wider and Chris, fuck, Chris was there too, and it was awkward as hell but Chris' tongue touched his, touched Lance's and JC felt Lance move one hand up to tangle his fingers in Chris' hair, and that was all it took. He was coming, again, coming with painful jerks and half-thrusts against Lance's belly, where he hadn't even finished licking him clean, and Chris was swearing under his breath and fucking for real now and there was no more kissing, just holding on tight to Lance while Chris plowed him hard. "Fuck," Chris was gasping into his ear, "fuck, fuck, fuck," over and over, hot breath ghosting along his skin, his fingers curled bruisetight round JC's hips. And then he felt Chris' body tense against his, felt him still for just a moment, before he groaned long and low, a sound JC knew in his soul. Chris shuddered and rocked against him, in him, whispering nonsense words into JC's skin, pressing sloppy, wet kisses over his back. "You still breathing?" JC asked softly, when he could find his voice again, his forehead resting against the flushed skin of Lance's neck, his heart still racing in his chest, letting his eyes slip closed while he tried to gather the strength to move. He could happily stay here forever, he thought, Lance warm underneath him, Chris draped hot over his back. "Yeah," Lance breathed, "yeah, I am. Just." He was grinning when JC lifted his head and opened his eyes again. JC grinned back, and kissed his way along Lance's jaw to his lips. Softer kisses this time, slow, tender, unhurried. God, I could get used to this, he thought, and a shiver of anticipation raced through him. JC felt Chris shifting off his back, slowly, gently, then stretching out beside him, propped up on one elbow, reaching across to pull him closer. There was hardly room for the three of them on the bed, but somehow, they all fitted, pressed close together, skin to skin. JC didn't mind at all--he couldn't think of anyplace he'd rather be. He turned his head a little, enough for Chris' mouth to cover his own, his tongue slipping inside, tasting him, sucking gently on his bottom lip. JC felt Chris' lips curve into a smile, and then he pulled away, just a little, watching JC closely. "So," Chris whispered, one hand warm against JC's jaw, the other stroking through his hair, "you know how I said I wanted a new Discman for my birthday?" ~ fin ~   Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!