the one where they all have sex in a hotel in houston
by LC
12/25/02Written for Don We Now Our Gay Apparel, 2002 edition.
Thanks to Nico for putting up with me.
"Turn it up, turn it up," Joey yelled from the bathroom. Lance thumbed the volume button and the announcer's voice crescendoed. The rest of them didn't need the sound, though; the map across the screen was perfectly clear.
"Shit," Justin moaned. "Fucking flooded."
"What, are you surprised?" Lance looked at him. "There was water there an hour ago, it's still there, it'll be there an hour from now."
"Yeah, but. It's not right," he said stubbornly, and flopped back on the bed with a small 'oof' noise.
"Can you change it back now?" JC said. He was lying on the floor between the two double beds with the bedruffle over his face. "I like that show about the walrus." Lance switched back to the Discovery Channel, where a zookeeper was explaining how to massage a walrus. Apparently the blubber moved out of the way when you pushed on it. JC beeped happily from under the bedruffle. Chris climbed over Justin, perched on the edge of the bed, and started stacking telephone directories on JC's back.
Joey came out of the bathroom, wiping his hands on his pants, and sat back down behind Lance. On TV, the walrus swam back and forth in her enclosure while the announcer explained how her flippers had healed.
"Here," Lance said, and offered him a hotel glass of orange soda and vodka. "Try this one." They'd been working their way through the minibar for about a half an hour now, mixing strange inventions for each other.
Joey drank half the glass and squinted. "It tastes like Orangina." Chris leaned across the gap and grabbed the glass from his hand. He drained it in one gulp and set the empty glass on JC's back, on top of three phone books and a bible.
"That's good. Make another one."
"Me too," Justin said, and shoved himself off the bed to go pace around the suite again.
"They're gonna charge us to replace the rug in there if he keeps that up," Joey said.
"What can I say, boy's full of nervous energy."
Lance looked at Chris, bouncing on his knees and chattering his teeth as loud as he could, and coughed loudly.
"And you can get your own drinks," Joey added. He slid a hand into Lance's hair and Lance closed his eyes, tipping his head back into Joey's lap. Six, he'd had, six glasses except, no, half glasses, because they shared, so three glasses and that sounded about right for the kind of drunk he felt. Warm and all full of loose bones and quick blood. He pushed up against the strong fingers rubbing his scalp, opening his eyes halfway. Chris was smirking at him.
"Man, you get him drunk and he's like a fucking cat, isn't he?" Chris said. Lance held up his hand like a claw and hissed, making them both laugh. "Too bad he can't purr."
"I don't know about that, man," and the hand slid down around the back of his neck, fingers stroking lightly under his chin. Lance tilted his head back further, showing his throat, and got a low, pleased noise in return. "Mmm, we're all out of booze, though." He pushed at Lance's shoulders. "Go get more."
Lance glared up at him. "If I'm going to be Cinderella, I want mice."
"I'll buy you mice," Joey promised, so Lance crawled over to the minibar.
They'd decimated it pretty well, but there was still plenty of alcohol left. He grabbed a handful of miniature bottles from the back and examined the labels. "Hey, there's a couple bottles of Irish cream. Nice."
"I want some!" JC called, from under four phone books, a bible, Justin's copy of Chicken Soup for the Pet Lover's Soul, and a booklet of guest information.
"Come on over here, then." Lance watched, amused, as JC shuffled backwards out from under the bed. He jumped in surprise when Justin strode back into the room, grabbing a bottle from Lance's hand--not the Irish cream, thankfully. "Hey!"
Justin ignored him, swallowed the contents in one gulp, and sat down hard on the bed next to Chris. "You. Distract me."
Lance raised his eyebrows and glanced at Joey, who shrugged, looking interested. Chris sat up and eyed Justin lazily. "What's that now?"
"I am bored," Justin said. "And there's like five feet of water outside--"
"Six and a half," Chris said.
"Whatever, it's way too much, and this is the most godawful hotel room and they're, like, making out--" He gestured at Joey, on the other bed.
"We're so not making out, man. When we start making out, you'll fucking know." He grinned, and Lance grinned back, raising a tiny bottle in agreement. JC, who had stopped his snake-like backwards progress across the floor to watch Justin, saw the bottle and squeaked, hurrying up his undulations. Lance wondered if they shouldn't have let him smoke the whole bag by himself, but JC was lousy about sharing his pot. He tended to bite.
"Give me some," JC said, and rubbed his cheek against Lance's knee. The texture of the denim seemed to fascinate him and he purred softly, moving his face back and forth. Lance watched him, grinning and stroking his hair. It was nice, touching JC, being touched. He always made you feel wanted, when he was high. The light press of fingers startled him and he jumped. JC looked up, his eyes sleepy but interested.
"What're you doing?" Lance asked. There wasn't much ambiguity, really, about JC's hand petting the crease between his thigh and crotch, but he felt like he should ask anyway.
JC didn't answer him. He sat up, taking his hands back. "I want some."
"Of?" Lance raised his eyebrows. Joey snickered.
"The cream." JC dipped his body forward like a snake being charmed. "The Irish cream. I like it."
Lance realized the other three had gone quiet. JC swayed back and forth in front of him. He tapped JC's chin with the neck of the little bottle, pulling it back before he could catch it. "Open up."
His mouth swung open obediently, dark pinks and reds framed between his lips. Lance unscrewed the bottle, took a half-mouthful and swam it around, over his tongue. Then he swallowed and tipped the bottle to JC's mouth. JC closed his eyes but left his mouth slack. Lance poured the white liquor out slowly, watching the tributaries spill over JC's flushed, chewed lips, behind his teeth, pool at the back of his throat. JC gurgled with bliss and mewled when Lance cut off the flow. He swallowed the cream and opened his eyes, gazing reproachfully.
"You're spilling," Lance said. He leaned forward and licked the stray drops from JC's bottom lip, and the trickle from the corner of his mouth to his jaw. JC made an odd noise, almost a cough, and turned his head and kissed him. Lance froze for only a second of surprise, but he could smell the alcohol--so much stronger than the droplets on JC's skin--rising up through his soft palate, rich and sweet. JC pressed his palms against Lance's thighs and leaned forward, whimpering into his mouth.
"Jesus," Justin murmured. Lance pulled away abruptly, suddenly aware again of the other three people in the room. One in particular. He met Joey's eyes over JC's shoulder and pressed his lips together, waiting. JC sighed and fucking shimmied top to bottom like a cat just woken up from a nap. He blinked and opened his eyes. Lance looked back and forth between JC and Joey. He could feel every drop of alcohol running through his bloodstream.
"Get back here," Joey said. His eyes were dark, which meant he was either really turned on or really angry. Lance stood up, and Joey added, "the both of you. Fuck."
He couldn't help glancing at Chris and Justin as he crossed the room. Justin's eyes were wide and excited--no surprise there; pretty much anything to do with sex turned Justin on. Chris looked at him smoothly, almost blankly, but Lance saw his fingers curling at the base of Justin's neck. Justin didn't seem to notice yet. The last thing Lance saw before Joey tugged him forward was Justin rolling his shoulders up into Chris's hand, not noticing what he did at all.
"You and JC, huh?" Joey said, pressing his mouth to the soft skin behind Lance's ear. Lance shivered and shook his head. On his other side, the mattress dipped down under JC's weight. A hand--JC's, too small to be Joey--settled on his back, rubbing slow circles. "You sure?"
"Why, you want to watch?"
"Yeah," Joey said, and Lance felt his stomach flip, just like that.
"I think it's a good idea," JC said, perfectly seriously. One finger was dipping into the waist of Lance's jeans, now. Joey sat back and the left side of Lance's face felt abruptly cold.
"JC," Joey said. "Lie down." And JC did, smiling serenely, except serene wouldn't make Lance feel like there was a spring underneath his stomach, curling up tight and shivering. He looked one more time at the other bed and drew a sharp breath. Justin was leaning back against the headboard, his mouth half-open and his legs spread wide, while Chris pressed in at his side and kissed his neck, the sharp line of his collarbone, other places Lance couldn't see. One of Justin's hands held the bedspread in a clawed fist, and the other he pressed between his legs, rubbing slowly at the faded denim. When Lance met his eyes, Justin shuddered but didn't look away. Lance did, finally, when Joey said, "Touch him," and Lance paid attention to that.
He looked at Joey one more time, not quite believing this, then looked at JC and bit his lip. JC lay on his back, arms and legs splayed, his head tilted back over the edge of the pillow so his neck stretched out and up. Lance reached out a hand. He didn't know what he was going to touch until his fingertips caught the hem of JC's t-shirt and pushed it up, skimming his stomach lightly enough to make the muscles twitch. The hem was curling up at the edges, the threads long since worn off. He bunched up the shirt under JC's arms and pressed his palms to the soft skin of his stomach. JC breathed out a pleased hum and Lance slid his hands down to either side, pressing lightly just below the ribs.
Joey said, "I think you should kiss him again." His voice hung right next to Lance's ear and Lance could feel the sudden heat against his back. Not touching him, though, and it made him want to arch back, press all the points of his body against Joey, but he didn't. He leaned forward, one knee on either side of JC's legs, and kissed him again. JC still tasted like liquor, but Lance knew he did too. The flavor was softer now, though, less like drinking straight out of the bottle. JC drew his tongue along all the softnesses in Lance's mouth, tucked it between his lip and teeth, licked underneath Lance's tongue with little flickering motions. He brought his hands to Lance's hips and it was a surprise; Lance hadn't expected him to move. JC held him surprisingly tight. He pushed his own hips up and pulled Lance down tight against him.
Lance turned his head, breathing hard against JC's cheek. JC ground against him, working his hips in vicious jabs and circles. Lance dug his fingers into the blankets on either side of JC's shoulders and rocked back and forth to JC's rhythm. He wanted to take his jeans off, JC's too, slide his skin up against hot skin and just fuck like this for hours. He wanted to bite JC's neck in the shadow just above his collarbone, and he did that. JC gasped and dug his fingers in tighter, pressing little flares into Lance's hips that would bruise and hurt later.
"Jesus," Joey said, "you're so fucking hot." His voice was thick. Lance recognized it, knew what Joey's face would look like if he turned around. Joey touched him between his shoulderblades, just brushing him with his fingertips.
"Fuck," Lance muttered. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, breathing hard. Joey kept stroking him, and when he opened them JC was staring up at him. His eyes were dark with pupil.
"You sound," JC said, and pressed his fingers to Lance's lower lip. "God, your voice."
Lance closed his mouth around JC's fingers. JC moaned and pressed his head back into the pillow. Lance felt Joey shift behind him and knew with sudden certainty that Joey was touching himself--he hadn't heard a zipper so he'd just be rubbing his hand between his legs, stroking himself harder until Lance could press his mouth to the fabric and taste him. He thrust hard against JC and sucked harder on the fingers in his mouth.
"Yeah, he sounds nice, doesn't he," Joey said, almost conversationally. "He likes that, you know." His hand stole around and petted at Lance's mouth, one finger pushing in to join JC's. Lance worked his tongue around the fingers in his mouth and wondered what he looked like. He felt himself get harder and it hurt, now, pressed up against his zipper and his rough thrusting was almost bruising him, but he couldn't stop. Wouldn't stop.
"Does he?" JC flashed Joey a strained grin over Lance's shoulder.
"Oh yeah. Sucking dick, he fucking loves it. And he's good at it, too--" Joey pulled his finger from Lance's mouth. It made a wet pop that sounded unbearably obscene. He trailed it down Lance's throat, the cold wetness making the skin shiver. "You want to?" Joey murmured in his ear, soft and deadly. "You want his cock in your mouth?"
Lance nodded. JC's fingers slipped free and his mouth felt painfully empty. "Yeah," he said. His voice was rough in his throat.
"Take your shirt off."
When his skin was bare Joey started tracing a finger up and down his spine. Just one finger, barely even pressing, up and down constantly. Lance backed up clumsily, straddling JC's legs. He could hear ragged breathing from the other bed, quiet murmuring and one of them--Justin, made a soft little 'oh.' Lance watched his own hands as he unbuttoned and unzipped JC's jeans. His hands were smart and steady. When he brushed JC's cock he got a jagged breath that turned into a moan. His eyes flicked up to meet JC's and he held his gaze while he cupped the thickness in his hand, letting it fill his palm, push insistently at his fingers.
"Lift up," Joey said, and JC did. Lance tugged his jeans and boxers down to the middle of his thighs, and when he felt the push on the back of his neck he was already moving down. Joey petted him as he opened his mouth, as the wet tip of JC's cock pushed past his lips. He waited there for a second, holding onto JC's hips, his thumbs scratching lightly at the sharp bones. He could hear JC's shuddery breathing above him, and the muscles under his hands were jumping.
When Lance started moving his mouth slowly up and down, Joey leaned down next to him and said, "Fuck I wish you could see yourself." Lance closed his eyes and concentrated on the salt-sour taste of JC and the heavy press on his tongue. "Your mouth is all red, stretched out--I bet your lips are stinging, right? 'Cause JC's big." He breathed the words more than spoke them, so no one else could hear. He kept petting Lance's neck, too, firm short strokes from the base of his skull to the first knob of his spine. Just that little touch, not even sexy, but if he kept it up Lance thought he might come before he even got out of his pants. His jaw was aching and JC was starting to push up against his hands. When somebody's hand nestled in his hair he couldn't tell who it was at first, and then he realized it was both of them, Joey's hand guiding JC's. The two sets of fingers tightened, tugging sharply at his hair, and then Joey's slipped away. "He likes that," Joey said, in that infuriatingly casual tone again. "If you pull. Or push," and the fingers on his neck tightened, just a little, "that's good too."
"Jesus Christ," JC said. "The two of you--" Lance dipped his head down to the base and felt JC's cock bump against the back of his throat. JC hissed and tightened his grip on Lance's hair, holding him there. He struggled reflexively but only for a second, until he could make his muscles relax. He breathed in deep as JC muttered something in a thick voice and pushed in deep, once twice more and came.
Lance waited for the hand in his hair to relax before slipping his mouth off of JC's cock, which was still half-hard. He pressed his forehead against JC's thigh, dizzy and unable to think about anything except how much he wanted to shove his hips down and get in just two good thrusts against the mattress. And Joey's hand on him, of course, which hadn't ever stopped. Joey rubbed his back with long slow strokes that made Lance feel like a cat.
"What do you want?" Joey said. "You want JC to suck you off now? Want him to fuck you? Or you could fuck him, that would look so hot."
He pressed his face into JC's damp skin and nodded. Joey chuckled.
"Which one, Lance?" His hand stroked down Lance's back and cupped his ass, fingers digging in lightly. Lance breathed in hard and bit his tongue until he could talk.
"Fuck me." And his voice was still shaky, and deeper than usual. He wanted to hear himself outside his own head, the way Joey heard him.
"Mmm, good choice." Lance could hear the laughter in his voice. "You feel up to it, C?"
He lifted his head to look at JC. A low moan escaped him before he could help it. JC's eyes were dark and fixed on him as he lazily stroked himself. Lance shuddered and licked his lips without thinking about it.
"I feel pretty up," JC said, and grinned.
Lance laughed and sat up. He started to unzip his jeans but Joey got there first and shook his hands off. Lance tipped his head back on Joey's shoulder as Joey drew his zipper down and pushed his jeans and boxers down around his knees. He felt he heat of Joey's hand a second before it wrapped around him, making him draw in a sharp breath. Joey squeezed once, skimming his thumb across the tip, then let go. Lance growled in frustration and Joey laughed.
"Gotta wait for JC, man. Have a little patience." He gave Lance a pat on the back. "How do you want him, C?"
JC's face took on a considering expression, as if he were choosing among items on a menu. Lance felt his face flush hot. He waited, mouth half-open and Joey's never-ceasing hand on his back.
"Turn him around," JC said. He made a languid little hand gesture. Joey wrapped his hands around Lance's chest, under his arms, and half-lifted him. He shuffled around so he was facing Joey. The sheets rustled behind him as JC moved. As he turned he risked a glance at the other bed and saw Justin on his back, practically folded in half as Chris fucked him. Chris was holding him, too, with one hand flat in the center of his chest, and Justin was squirming and crying out little desperate noises, and Chris looked at him with dark eyes and fucked him hard. Lance said,
"Oh fuck," and Chris looked at him and grinned. Lance's stomach shivered pleasantly. He gave Chris a shaky smile. "You two having a good time?"
"Oh, I think we are." Chris thrust again and Justin moaned,
"Chris--"
"Yeah we are," Chris said, looking back at Justin. "How about you, Lance? Good time being had by all?"
"I think so," he said. Joey put two fingers on his jaw and turned his head back.
"You just think so? I'm hurt, man."
"Pretty sure," Lance amended. JC laughed. A second later two slick fingers brushed him and he jumped, startled.
"Easy, baby." JC pulled Lance toward him, hand on his hip. "Move up a little for me, there you go." He stroked Lance's cock a few times, with a light touch that made him shake. "That's good."
JC tilted Lance's hips up and gently pushed his knees further apart. Lance buried his face in the mattress next to Joey's knees and let himself be touched. His breathing was harsh in his chest and every inch of his skin felt hot with blood. When the fingers brushed him again he keened into the sheets and pushed back onto them. Joey's heavy fingers combed through his hair, soft and steady.
He concentrated on that while JC curled two fingers inside him, scissoring and twisting; while JC purred dirty hot promises to him, until Lance couldn't stop moving his hips on JC's hand and stopped trying to stop. He was close, all it would take was one more minute--not even that--he panted into the mattress, pushing his head against Joey's knee. The hand in his hair tightened painfully and Joey lifted his head up. "Not yet," he said, "wait for him."
"He ready?" JC asked. Lance heard the crinkle of plastic and latex behind him.
"Oh yeah. So fucking ready." Joey let him go but Lance kept his head up, propping himself on his elbows. He couldn't look away from Joey, and Joey held his eyes as JC pushed into him, one slow steady thrust until their hips were locked together. "You're so gorgeous like this," Joey said. He cupped Lance's face in one hand, stroking his cheek. "I wish I could keep you like this all the time. So hot."
JC started fucking him then, with a quick rhythm that pushed soft low noises from Lance's mouth. He was always quiet during sex and it was no different now, but every sound he did make hung heavy in the air between him and Joey. He might have said 'please, please,' but he knew Joey wouldn't hold him to it later. When JC reached a hand around to bring him off Joey leaned over and pushed his arm back, and Lance shuddered and pressed his face against Joey's legs. JC came a second later, digging his fingernails into Lance's hips, making little sharp points of pain. Lance twisted the crumpled sheets in his fists and muffled his moans in Joey's jeans.
He stayed there, breathing hard and shallow, and felt the lift of the bedsprings and JC slipped away, the creak as he sat down next to the other two, and Justin's low voice, "That was so fucking hot, C--" Joey touched him, one hand between his shoulderblades, and Lance started to shake.
"Sit up," Joey said, tugging gently at his shoulders. Lance sat back on his heels, bit his tongue. Joey grinned, then turned to look at the other bed. "One of you lovebirds toss me a condom?" Somebody did. Joey caught it and slipped it on easily. Lance watched with blood pounding in his head and struggled not to come, not even when Joey tugged at him again and he stumbled forward on his knees, not even as Joey unzipped his jeans and pulled his cock out and didn't even take off his shirt.
Lance straddled him, the denim roughing against the inside of his thighs. Joey guided him down and Lance was already stretched and slick and ready for him, ready to be fucked again, and when Joey pulled him close and whispered, "You want all of us, don't you, me and JC and Justin and Chris, all in a row, you'd like that, wouldn't you," Lance buried his face in Joey's neck and moaned. He jerked each time Joey thrust up into him and the motion rubbed his cock against Joey's chest. It was over in less than a minute, they'd both been waiting so long; Joey came first and he held onto Lance, holding him still on Joey's cock while he stroked Lance up and down twice, which was all it took before Lance came shuddering into his hand.
The first thing he heard when his heartbeat quieted down was Justin clapping. He grinned into Joey's shoulder, feeling Joey's laughter all through his own chest, and flipped Justin off without looking at him.
"That was excellent, man."
Lance snorted. "Like you were watching after Chris got you on your back." He leaned back, letting Joey pull out, and was pleased to see that Justin had turned bright red. He was still smirking though, which Lance couldn't begrudge him. He felt a yawn tickling the back of his throat, and started to lie down, when Justin suddenly let out a yelp.
"Turn the TV on!" He fumbled on the bedstand for the remote. "There's gonna be another report on now--" The screen flashed to life and the now-familiar green and blue map clicked into view. They watched for ten seconds before Justin turned it off again with a disgusted grunt. "Houston fucking sucks," he said, scowling.
Lance yawned again. "It's just a flood, Justin. Go to sleep."
"Well--" Justin looked doubtfully between the four of them. "Wake me up in an hour?"
Chris shoved him down and tugged a blanket over his head. Lance snickered and lay back, humming contentedly as Joey wrapped around him and thinking that Houston was really a pretty okay place, all things considered; most okay indeed.
The show about the walrus is real--she had some kind of nerve blockage in her flippers. I [heart] the Discovery Channel.