Wandering Wombat (wanderingwombat) wrote,
Wandering Wombat

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Written as a pick-me-up for a friend having a bad day.

Summary: Lance needs to be quiet.
Warnings: Boybands, RPF, sex.
Also: Unbeta'd.

For llamabitchyo.


"Lance, I'm not kidding, shut the fuck up."

JC's house was a good place to have sex, roomy and warm. Lance didn't have a clue why Justin was suddenly on this secrecy kick, throwing the both of them into a closet - a closet, for God's sake, which was a nice metaphor if ever you heard one - when there was a guest room not very far down the hall. It wasn't like JC didn't know about this, like Chris or Joey didn't know about it, or like any of them hadn't proved time and again that 'keeping a secret' was part of the boyband job description. Lance didn't have anything to hide.

But Justin's voice, high and thin and exasperated, definitely didn't sound like kidding. Lance had to grit his teeth and sigh, because Justin was talking, and that meant his beautiful mouth had pulled back from where it had been trailing kisses down Lance's exposed belly. When he dared to look down, Justin was looking up at him through those long, pale lashes, eyes half-narrowed with annoyance. There was hardly any space for the two of them in the closet, packed tight with blankets and bed linen, and Lance wondered for the millionth time why they couldn't have waited the extra twenty seconds and made it into the large walk-in closet in the nearest of JC's guest rooms. Or the bed, for the love of God. Especially if Justin was only going to tease like this once he got down on his knees.

"JC will hear us," Justin hissed. His voice sounded genuinely tense, but his hands, splayed over Lance's hips, trembled slightly, and Justin didn't look near nervous enough to shake. Lance flicked his gaze down to Justin's face again. It was too dark to see much in the closet, and Justin was only faintly backlit by the cracks around the door, but Justin's eyes were fevered, almost glittering, and Lance could imagine the flush on Justin's pale skin, even if he couldn't see it.

"Guess he might," Lance said experimentally. Justin's breath rasped, a tiny gasp, and he bent his head to lick wetly over Lance's belly button. Lance let himself breathe loudly, not quite a moan but almost there, and rested one hand on the top of Justin's head, threading his fingers through soft curls. Justin's hair felt lush and decadent, fine but lots of it, nothing like the scratchy stubble brushing above Lance's waistband.

Justin's tongue worked. Lance breathed out again, the breath became a little groan, and this time Lance felt Justin's whole body shudder, tremors right to the tips of Justin's fingers, right to the top of his head. "I said stop," Justin murmured, but this time he didn't lift his head from Lance's belly, and his breath tickled against Lance's skin.

"Stop?" Lance echoed, letting the word become a real moan. Almost loud enough to carry past the heavy closet door and out into the hallway. Lance wondered where JC actually was. Justin made a noise that was repeating the moan but not the word, very quietly, muffled against Lance's body. "Don't," Lance said for clarity, thrusting his hips forward slightly for emphasis.

Justin bowed his head and worked his tongue lower, until he couldn't feel much stubble-scratch any more - the tip of Justin's tongue was dipping beneath the waistband of his jeans, only his top lip pressing against Lance's skin, that and his noise. "Lance," Justin whispered, so soft that Lance could barely make out the words, "your hand, your hands, fuck." Teeth scraped gently, and Lance got the point, moving his left hand to join his right in Justin's hair. Trailing the left through the curls until his thumb was stroking the nape of Justin's neck and Justin was unzipping Lance's fly with - his - fucking - teeth. Lance really did moan then, loud and wordless and completely without shame, and Justin breathed out hard against the skin of Lance's cock.

"Sssssssshhhhh!" Justin said. There was another tremor to go with it, and then Justin swallowed Lance down, all in one quick movement, from zero to sixty in two seconds flat. Lance wanted to cry out but swallowed it, tightened his grip on Justin's curls, tried not to buck forward too hard into Justin's throat, bit his lip to keep from screaming. Justin's hands clamped hard around Lance's hips, which was a good thing if Justin didn't want Lance to fall. His knees threatened to buckle. The thrusting thing was a losing battle. So, though it took a bit longer, was the crying out thing. From the way Justin was going at it, he didn't seem to mind.

It took no time at all. You'd think Lance hadn't been laid in - in - Lance was actually blanking on how long it'd been, and Justin was looking up at him with that pure golden-boy grin on his face, the I-rock grin that would be almost convincing if it wasn't for the big blue eyes and the blown pupils that went with it. Lance would bet any money that if he reached down Justin's body - which he was surely going to, in due time - he'd find not just a diamond-hard erection but a tiny wet spot where Justin had leaked through the front of his sweats.

"Told you to be quiet," Justin said. It was a tone that said he should be chiding Lance but couldn't quite bring himself to. Justin licked his lips, and Lance thought again that the whole idea of being found had kind of turned Justin on.

"If you wanna punish me," he said languidly, "you're gonna have to wait a while."

Justin smiled, kissed Lance's belly one more time, and got to his feet. When he pulled Lance close, his sweatpants rubbed against Lance's bare skin, T-shirt still pushed up, and Lance could feel that he'd been right about the wet spot. Yeah; he definitely wasn't wrong.

He let his hand trail down Justin's belly. Justin let out a long, slow, shuddering breath and bent his head again, kissing Lance's neck this time, one big hand stroking the small of Lance's back. The other on his shoulder, squeezing and rubbing there. Lance turned and kissed Justin's jawline and then, when the angles worked out, his mouth.

"Maybe the second round could be in a bed," Lance suggested, rubbing one thumb over the elasticated waistband of Justin's pants.

"You don't think JC would walk in? Or...?"

"JC's asleep already," Lance said reassuringly, though that was far from sure. JC's sleep patterns were less like patterns and more like... chaos theory. There was order in there somewhere, but only if you could see much bigger things than the human eye was designed for. It seemed to work though; Justin's body relaxed a little in Lance's arms, and his fingers caressed Lance's spine.

Carefully, Justin turned the handle of the closet door, keeping his other hand on Lance's shoulder as Lance quickly zipped up. Wouldn't do to be wandering around JC's house with his pants around his ankles, even if JC was surprisingly tolerant of gay lovebirds in random parts of his house. Justin slowly pushed the door open. Before they'd even gotten it open halfway, there was the loud sound of a door banging shut across the hall. JC switched bedrooms pretty often, but they'd been almost sure that he was using the one right opposite as the master bedroom right now; guest rooms further toward the back of the house.

Seconds later, they heard a light being violently switched off.

The closet door was only half-open. Justin turned to Lance and said, "Did you hear what I just..."


Justin bit his lip very gently. "And are you thinking what..."


There was a long pause.

"I'm sorry, man," Justin said in a testing voice, "we have no idea which are the guest bedrooms these days, and..."

Lance leaned up to kiss Justin quiet, then pulled back, smiling. "Baby," he said, "I'm thinking he won't complain." He put his hand into Justin's and waited while Justin pushed the closet door open, seeming to take longer to open a door than he had to suck Lance's cock, and gave Lance a single, nervous glance.

"You think this is a good idea? Like, I don't wanna - "

"It's JC. And sex. C'mon, since when do they not mix?"

Justin grinned.

Lance stepped forward, pushed passed Justin and out into the hall. Dragged Justin out behind him. Pushed the closet door shut, which was - not really a symbol of anything, unless there was a closet for hot threesomes with your bandmates, instead of just gay desire. Squeezed Justin's hand reassuringly. Said, "Come on, Justin, let's go."

They went.

JC didn't complain.
Tags: fandom: pop, pairing: jc/justin/lance, pairing: justin/lance, rpf, slash, warning: adult content
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