Part 7


“C’mon, Jace. Gimme a break here. I’m doing the best I can, and you’re not making this shit easy for either of us now, baby.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, which ‘either of us’ am I making it, um, *hardest* for, J? Hmm?” JC coos breathily through a fresh attack of silly giggles that get muffled in soft cotton covering hard flesh as he presses his face closer to Justin’s shoulder and neck. “My guess would be……….um……….*you*……….Damn. You could push the door open with that monster and not even use your hands, babe……….Hmm……….that feels so niiiccce.”

“Stop it……….pleeeeazze,” Justin moans into JC’s hair as he feebly paws at the roaming hot hand that has just slithered down his abdomen and now fondles his crotch. His swollen and throbbing crotch.

JC kneads and strokes the bulging warmth between Justin’s thighs and slurs/snickers a quiet response. “Stop what, cupcake? I’m juss holding on, ya know, for, hmm, balance.”

“Fuck……….and stop calling me that out here, sweetness……….We’re not behind closed doors yet……….Don’t you have any sense of direction?..........Shit, you’ve gotta quit doing that, C……….Like now,” he growls in a whisper, those long slim fingers still cupping his balls as a palm warmly massages up and down his solid length.

“Senz of direcjun?” Again, JC laughs against Justin’s upper chest and roughly squeezes the prizes in his grip. “Hell, yeah, I do……….I know how to……….go *down*……….cupcake.”

“Hush, JC! Damnit,” Justin hisses and tries to move them further along down the corridor in their huddled shambling gait.

He knows he’s bottoming out, all kinds of lame on being very convincing whatsoever with his attempts to scold and control his blissfully intoxicated mate. Hell, JC probably isn’t even listening to him, the sexy fucker. But other people might be. Other guests behind any of these doors they’re slowly passing to get to Justin’s suite.

Yes, not surprisingly, JC is happily oblivious and clinging to Justin, trusting him absolutely to get them both to safety and seclusion after an evening of dinner with the Chasez family and then a few hours of partying in the hottest Miami clubs. He’s not wiped out totally to the point of incoherency or stupor. No, he’s just at the stage of equilibrium-challenged giddiness, where he requires four legs — his own two plus Justin’s as well — to mobilize himself and where everything he comes in contact with is exceptionally hilarious and worthy of either muted chuckles or the wild hyena guffaws and schoolgirl titters.

Before they’d departed the party at Krave early in the evening, Justin had signed the tab for several bottles of Cristal ‘90 vintage, JC’s favorite, for all the guys, and he and JC had shared at least two of those between themselves in the isolation of the club’s VIP rooms. Lance, already three sheets to the wind himself, had begun singing a few apropos lines of an old George Strait tune for JC, and JC had attempted many times during the remainder of the night to recreate the rendition, never quite mastering the original melody. But he didn’t care. It was all just so damn funny. And he lullaby’s himself again now in the hallway, his toned-down angelic voice ushering them onward like a soothing, guiding nymph.

“Drinking champagne, feeling no pain……..Drinking champagne, feeling no pain……….”

Protectively, Justin holds onto him, gingerly but firmly pulls him nearer with ease, and tries to avoid letting his long, snaking arm ride up over JC’s waist anywhere close to the blistered area of his back’s skin “Ssshhhh,” he breathes softly at the moist warmth of JC’s temple. “Be there in a sec.”

“Hush? Why the fuck? Aren’t we having us some goddamn fun, J? I thought that’s what we were doing tonight,” JC murmurs a bit too loudly, seductively gliding his hand up Justin’s groin and over his sensitive hip bone, caressing, massaging all the way.

“Yes, baby. Lotsa fun……….Christ, will you cut that out for one fucking second……….You’re driving me crazy………..I gotta find the key. We’re almost to our room. ‘Kay?”

“*Your* room, man. I’m not THAT drunk.”

“No. *Our* room. I got it with you and me in mind……….Always with us in mind. And yes, you ARE that drunk. Trust me.”

“Justin,” JC hisses. Obscenely. Obsessively.

“What, sweetness? You alright?”

JC raises his head enough to purr with hot breath at Justin’s ear. “I wanna……….wanna……….fuck you.”

Justin almost stumbles to his knees with the intensity of JC’s firewater sensuality all over him, consuming him. He’s been without it for weeks, lying in bed alone every night since their last union craving it, needing it, hurting for it even in his sleeping dreams.

When they’d first gotten together, back when *Justified* was being conceived and recorded, they would make love for hours at a time — or maybe it should be termed “fuck” for hours at a time — or maybe a little of both — breaking in the impassioned sexual action only to catch their breath and touch and tease and taste until they were ready to go at each other again. They couldn’t seem to get their fill of the new terrain of each other’s body, and Justin never ceased to be amazed at how they managed to leave each other panting and paralyzed from the sheer mind-imploding ecstasy time and time again.

He’d never been with anyone quite like JC before. Not ever. And he’d had more than a mere few guys in his day. But JC blew all of them so far out of the water that it was fucking ridiculous. He could *do things* to make Justin feel sensations he’d never imagined were possible in the world.

JC was almost unreal as a lover, awesome and strangely exotic at coaxing the delicious pleasure out of Justin — all in his own specially timed and magical technique. Hell, during the lonely nights on the road, Justin had, on several occasions, gotten off in gasping proportions simply lying in the dark and remembering a moment (or, better, an hour) with JC in bed. A couple of quick strokes of the hand were enough to make him come volcanically with only the memory of the sultry mouth and those gentle hands and that hot-fluid body all over him.

And, yes, he feels himself weakening to JC’s seducing, bewitching spell now in the hallway. Well, a powerful cumulative effect from all the oceans of time that have lapsed since he saw JC last.

“Jace, please,” he groans again, desperately. “Stop acting bad like this. We’ll be home-free and alone in a sec, baby.”

“And just how’s it acting bad to want you so damn much, zexy boy? Millions want you.” JC slides a wet tongue around the hanging curve of Justin’s earlobe and giggles from far down in his chest. “And jeck it out……….I’m the one that’s *got* you.”

Justin winces at the slick, warm touch he hadn’t been expecting and vows to keep shuffling down the silent corridor diligently. JC has one arm draped loosely over Justin’s broad shoulders and embraces Justin’s midsection with the other now, half hanging on him. Justin lowers his own arm down over JC’s ass to encircle the firm, rounded set of cheeks. And JC giggles again, vibrating against him.

“And I got you, baby. All to myself.”

“Yo, Timbs,” Eric calls out softly from behind.

Justin slows and turns, his precious bundle compliantly moving in his arms with him, as if their joining is a physically connected one. Eric and Lonnie had escorted them here from the final nightspot they’d ended up crashing and had hung back at a respectful distance when they’d exited the elevator here at the Loews.

Justin hadn’t heard his man step up behind them now. Maybe because of the thick-piled carpet. Or maybe because he’s so distracted by the arousing, steamy heat next to him.

“Yeah, dude. Whassup?”

“Man, Lonnie says you two need to stop groping all over each other and make yourselves scarce, like, pronto unless you want company coming out here trying to see what’s with all the racket. And you don’t want that mess, right? He says they ain’t gonna be wanting any autographs if they see where yo hands have been, man.”

JC snickers and snuggles closer to Justin’s chest, his head down again and buried in the base of Justin’s neck, tickling the exposed skin there with his whispery mumbled words. “Oh, no! Save us, J! Or else we’ll be outed by unsuspecting, homophobic tourists! Bloody hell, we can’t have that! Fuck no!”

Justin rolls his eyes and sighs. Not at the flaky, cozy weight in his embrace, but rather at the irksome warning he’s just been served. “Look, man. I’m getting there as fucking fast as I can. Okay? Tell snarky-fuck Lons if he thinks his ass can do it any quicker, he’s welcome to march it on up here and give it a shot. I’m fucking waiting.”

“Justin, be cool, man. We just watching your back. Ah-iight?” Eric says, a bit more sympathetically, and steps one foot closer. “You need some help?”

“No. I got him. We’re tight,” Justin quips back snappily. “And we’ll be chill. Don’t fear. Hit the sack, ‘kay?” Possessively, he tightens his grip around JC’s hips and twirls around to move on.

JC’s still laughing silently, and Justin can feel the tiny quaking tremors roll from JC’s warm body over to his own. Gently, he drives his fingers through the glossy, soft tresses of the dark wavy hair and smiles.

“Your crazy, drunk ass is gonna get us in so much trouble, sweetness.”

“But thass ah-iight, ain’t it? You’ll get us out of it, won’tcha, babe? You’re the super-fantastic-o-matic Justin fucking Timberlake. Fasser than a speeding bullet. More powerfrul than a locomotive. Able to leap tall buildings in a single bown. Right?”

Justin doesn’t resist giggling along with him. “C’mon, you dork. All I know is I got us. And we’re moving in stereo……….on up outta here.”

“Don’t drop me, cupcake.”

“Never, baby. And stop fucking calling me that,” Justin says through clenched teeth, trying to sound stern, but then gives in to a low laugh that’s risen in his throat.

*I’m going under. I can feel it. Yep. Just color me drowning and not waving.*

~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~

Justin somehow accomplishes the task of getting the both of them inside the suite and then into the bedroom. The problematic issue isn’t that JC’s so inebriated that he’s unwieldy and awkward to handle. Justin’s never had a problem handling his lithe, graceful body — wasted or not.

No, what troubles Justin in this situation is carefully avoiding any sort of painful contact to JC’s brutally inflamed back, especially since JC himself doesn’t seem too concerned with it at the moment. Unannounced ear-splitting howls at 2:30 a.m. in this swank hotel aren’t exactly Justin’s idea of drawing attention to the two of them. So he tries to fend off JC’s goofy advances a little while longer ‘til he can ease him down on the bed delicately. A small lamp on the nightstand puts out just enough golden light to shoo shadows from the pitch-black room.

“Alright, Jace. We’re home. You can chill and lay down, but go easy on your toasty burn now, baby. No flash-dance moves or anything else insane, or you’ll be in a world of hurt again. ‘Kay?”

JC unwraps his long limbs from Justin’s frame and folds down smoothly and elegantly to the downy sheets that have been laid back and cooled by the air conditioning. His flip-flops seem to slide off his feet magically, and he grabs the waistband of Justin’s jeans to pull him down next to him. Side by side, hips almost touching, they lay facing each other stretched across the wide bed.

“Wow. Am I delirious, or are you really here on this bed with me?”

“I’m here, baby.” Justin smiles. “And I’m staying.”

“Then you’re not trying to escape, I hope.”

“Nah, sweetness. Not me. Never.”

“Awesome. Then you must be horizontal too. Right here. Where I am.”

“You won’t get an argument from me on that one. I’ve been waiting to be right here for, like, my whole life.” Justin’s smile broadens as the inside of his jaw tingles with JC’s fingertip tracing the thin bristly hairs that edge the curves of his face.

“You’re such a romantic, mushy little cupcake,” JC sighs and murmurs with an air of demur, drunken playfulness.

And Justin rolls his relaxed blue eyes. “Alright now, Jace. You have GOT to quit calling me ‘cupcake’ out in public. It’s cute and all, and fuck knows I like to hear your sexy voice say it. But —”

“Hold up. Fuck that,” JC cuts him off hushedly, with deeply pooled eyes that shimmer and dance over his face. “You called me ‘sweetness’ and ‘baby’ out there too. Duh! Don’t go banning my pet names for you when you do the same thing yourself, asshole. No double standards, Mr. Thinks He’s Fucking Boss of the Entire World. So take that crap somewheres else. I can call you what I wanna call you. So don’t give me any lip……….unless it’s a better kind than that. And then you can give me two.”

Justin’s speechless for a second or two as he allows the sheepish grin of cheese to spread across his cheeks and mouth, the look that’s amusing to casual observers but screams to those who know him well that he’s at a loss for an adequate reply. “Hmm. Guess you told me……….Okay. Call me whatever you please. But just please always call me. ‘Kay?”

JC’s reply is a sultry, smug smile that claims his face with the hurry of warm molasses as he inches over closer to Justin. The hand that had lovingly brushed Justin’s sleek, bearded jaw line and chin seconds before now reaches around to clamp the back of Justin’s neck so that the red-glowing, muscled arm can bring Justin’s face forward to connect the two hungry mouths in a soft but fierce lock, two sets of slick and warm lips sliding slowly each other and two tongues tangling and savoring much anticipated and familiar tastes.

They break for breath but hardly move away from each other at all. Justin’s as much aware of the renewed swelling in his own cock as he is of JC’s hardening one that rubs against his thigh. He also realizes that he’s now clutching the strong forearm that still holds his head from behind. JC’s eyelids flutter open to let one shade of ocean blue meet another.

His voice full of the air between them that they both now share, Justin speaks first. “Baby……….why can’t I pack some of that up in, like, a Tupperware bowl and take it on the bus with me next time, huh? Shit……….All we did was suck face, and it was like whoa……….You’re sweeter than anything, C.”

JC blinks slowly and complacently and snakes his hand back around to the front, finger pads grazing Justin’s throat column, roaming down to his chest. “Kissing you is like……….walking in the rain while the sun’s shining……….warm and wet and wild.”

“Aww. You say pretty things, baby.”

“Ah, well, maybe I’m inspired by pretty things. Like you.”

Justin smiles and lowers his gaze, perfecting sincere modesty. “Stop it.”

“You know you are, babe. All of you……….And I really missed seeing it, *all* of it,” JC drones quietly, still pushing his pelvis forward enough to thrust his erection into Justin’s hard thigh, and slips his fingers up under the hem of Justin’s T-shirt to smooth over the flat, warm stomach there.

Justin scooches his waist and ass closer to the tantalizing touch, instinctively wanting more, and again brushes JC’s parted lips with his own. But in some darker but still active corner of his brain, a tiny voice of reason screeches at him, and he groans at the inner conflict it causes.

*Maybe I’m not down for the count yet. Goddamn fucking better judgment or common sense or whatever the fuck it is. Go the hell away.*

“Sweetness,” he whispers gently and pleadingly. “We shouldn’t……….I don’t want to damage you any worse. I want you to feel better tomorrow. Not just so you can play, but just so you’ll be okay.”

“Ah, but I feel better now……….much better……….I think I can..........*play* just fine,” JC whirrs, pelting the skin of Justin’s neck with hot, moist breath and laughing again.

Justin’s beginning to feel warmer and weaker, gasping at the sensation of JC’s fingertips caressing his hardened nipples. And he’s sure all of his flimsy resistance is about to vanish into the thick atmosphere around them.

It’s all a little surreal and hazy……….JC’s soft lips and flickering tongue dragging across his earlobe, raking down his throat, moving over his chest to bite and suck at his protruding nubs of nipples through the thin cotton barrier of his shirt, leaving a damp trail of wicked seduction……….JC’s nimble fingers fumbling with and tugging at his studded leather belt, unlatching it and flinging it aside as the greedy hands yank at the zipper until at least one of them sneaks inside his pants and squeezes and squeezes erotic warmth into the jerking length under his boxers……….JC deftly and without effort pulling his jeans down over his slim hips and sliding them off, dropping them over to the floor along with his shoes……….JC’s hot breath on his abdomen, murmuring in sheets of satin about a “lickable, quivery, hairy path to Heaven below” as the tip of his wet tongue edges out and laps at the tight flesh under the elastic band of his shorts and the fingertips stair-step up his ribcage beneath the shirt……….all combining to ignite and flare and drive Justin absolutely out of his head with want……….and when the sizzling mouth lowers to his throbbing erection that’s already anxiously leaked through the flimsy material that covers it, Justin moans and arches his entire torso, pushing at JC’s shoulders in excruciating protest, even when he knows he shouldn’t touch him there.

Squirming, bucking, groaning, “Please, Jace……….I want you so bad, but……….”

“But what, babe?”

“But your mom and dad will have my ASS if I’m responsible for you getting any damn sicker, baby……….not to mention the seventy-hundred thousand fans down here to see you.”

Sitting upright and glowering down at him, JC huffs and snorts impatiently. “You’re starting to piss me off with all this whining, Justin. Now I’m serious. I feel okay. It’s not sore or burning at all. Will you fucking give it a rest and let me give you head?”

Justin shudders and moans as a middle finger slowly circles his bellybutton and a warm palm solidly pushes into his crotch. “You fucking self-medicated, C. It’ll wear off, and you’ll be in that horrible agony all over again. And I highly doubt 84 cosmos are part of the doctor’s orders, as much as I’d fucking LOVE for you to suck me off right now. Christ. Somebody needs to be the damn adult here.”

JC snickers and lies down beside Justin once more to kiss the smooth, prominent cheekbone. “Um, more like four cosmos, cupcake.”

“Four. Right. In EACH PLACE we went to maybe……….Vodka is not an FDA-approved sunburn-relief drug last time I checked.”

“‘Vodka is not an FDA-approved drug last time I checked,’” JC slaps at Justin’s arm and mocks his nasally falsetto voice brilliantly. “And I’m feeling no pain, so shut up. Stop bugging. Damn. ‘Somebody needs to be the damn adult here.’ You can be it, babe. Knock yourself the fuck out.”

Justin ignores the snide imitations and typical stubbornness from his companion. “Jace, at least lemme rub some of that cream on your back, baby. It’s over there in your bag, remember? We dropped it off before we went out partying. You don’t want to be getting all crunchy and shit.”

JC groans and pinches Justin’s pertly swollen nipple. “No! For the lass time, no! I feel sticky and gross from all that crap on me already. Plus the club scene sweat factor. Yuck. So nix on that. Maybe later, after a shower. Don’t trip. Ah-iight?”

Bunching his thick eyebrows together in a lovely scowl, Justin retorts mildly. “Fine. But I don’t like it. You’re a pain in the ass.”

“And you’re just so vicious……….so vorceful and aggressuv when you play nursemaid.” JC giggles. His hips have stopped their slow, circular moving now, but he still presses his hard-on against Justin’s crotch and still brushes his palm over Justin’s toned expanding-and-deflating chest.

“Shut up, C. I can be,” Justin pouts.

“Baby, baby, I know, I know……….So whadaya say? Let’s have sex.”

“No.”

JC sighs and smiles, playing along unhurriedly. “Okay. Fine. Like you’ve really got that kind of willpower. Um huh. NOT.”

Justin turns his head and looks him over with exhausted, serious eyes as he bites at the inside of his jaw. While trying his damnedest to concentrate on *anything* besides that gorgeous mouth wrapped around his still-engorged cock.

“Whadaya say you shimmy outta those pants there, sexy? We need to hit the sack. It’s fucking late.”

“Late enough to fuck each other’s eyes crossed?” JC laughs and keeps his gaze on Justin as he quickly wriggles out of his confining pants.

“Um, no. Persistent ass.” Justin rolls his eyes and raises up to sit against the pillows he stacks behind him. “Give it up, JC.”

“There he goes, being the damn adult again.”

“Yep. You said I could knock myself out.” Justin reaches for JC, leaning forward. “Careful with your T-shirt, baby. C’mere. Lemme do it.”

But JC has already charged ahead in his quest to be undressed and grabs the hem of the shirt with both hands. As he yanks it up over his torso and covers his flushed face with it, the reaction that resounds off the walls of the room is quite the uncommon one and most definitely an unpleasant one.

“Jesus fucking Christ! Damnit! Fuck! Get it off me! Fuck! That hurts like a son of a bitch! Shit!”

“What, Jace? Turn around! Lemme see!” Justin cries, clueless as to what could be bringing on such sudden, hateful discomfort to his loved one.

The cotton shirt, he discovers none too soon, has clung to and stuck on a couple of patches of JC’s moisturized flesh on his back, generating brutal, raw agony when JC innocently tries to pull the cloth away. Justin jumps off the bed in a flash, JC’s desperate curses echoing in his ears.

“Here, baby. I got the lotion stuff……….Relax, Jace. I’ll fix it. Hold on.”

Justin climbs back on the mattress with the tube of prescription ointment and settles down behind the now-shirtless man he’d do about anything for. Grimacing at how hot the reddened skin feels to his touch, he gently and slowly smoothes globs of the cool, greenish gel over the tensed, rippling muscled planes, trying to use as little pressure as necessary from the pads of his fingers. JC sits quietly, cross-legged, and flinches or winces only once in a while as he’s been cared for.

“I love you,” Justin leans closer and quietly breathes at the side of his head when he’s finished. “You can lay back down now. Feel better?”

“Tons. But now I’m all yucked up and greasy and stinky. Prob’bly gross you out.”

“No, it won’t. I don’t care. You need it.”

JC falls back to his pillow with a certain natural elegance even when he’s infirmed, and stretches out on his side, unfolding the sleek length of his body on the bed. His sleepy eyes watch Justin move around and lie down next to him, facing him and warily checking his face for comfort level.

“Okay now?”

“Much with the better. Thanks, babe……….And thanks for not saying ‘I *told* you to wear sunscreen, dumbass.’”

“I *told* you to wear sunscreen, dumbass.” Justin snickers. “Need anything else?”

“Just you, the sexiest nurse in the world. Let’s make love.”

Justin sighs. “C’mon, C. No. Shit. You’re relentless.”

“Yesss,” JC purrs again silkily and grinds their erections together with blunt energy. “You know you want to. Whass stopping you, babe?”

“The little scene in my head of you being pissed as a motherfucker if you wake up feeling bad tomorrow. Pissed at ME for taking advantage of you while you’re trashed on your ass and being the one to make you feel like shit. And I don’t want you pissed at me again. Okay? Am I getting through that thick skull of yours, baby?”

“Do you wanna come so hard you’ll pass out?”

“Stop it, Jace. Right now.”

“Ah, but I can do it, my love,” JC whispers, the liquid seduction dripping off his words and suffocating Justin with their powerful essence.

Justin inhales deeply and sighs, rolling over to his side and lifting his hand to touch JC’s mouth. “I know you can, sweetness. And I do want you too……….more than fuck……….but did you already forget what just went down and how much it hurt you? Baby, you’re not well yet, and we need to wait this time……….like you were on about yesterday in your room……….Remember?”

JC smiles and slinks closer to Justin’s long, warm body, curling into it with his own, feline-like, as if they’re two perfectly grooved pieces of a puzzle fitting together beautifully. “Yesss. I remember *every* time alone with you. Those memories……….I use ‘em for energy to keep me going when you’re away.”

Justin breathes in the sweet whispered sentiments that are uttered so close to his cheek and tilts the angle of his head slightly to kiss the pretty lips they came from. “Six more weeks of this damn touring, Jace. Then I’m coming home. To you. And maybe we’ll squeeze in a little time to ourselves for each other before you get sucked into the publicity machine for your own project.”

“Maybe, yeah. Hope so,” JC says softly, a bit distractedly. “I’ll take whatever we can get.”

And Justin can see that he’s winding down tiredly, that the slow, lash-swept blinks over his cool-azure eyes are getting longer and longer. He brushes that ever-stray ringlet of dark hair off the forehead and kisses the side of the lush mouth again.

“Hey……….You still here, baby?”

“Still with ya, Pretty Boy Blue.” JC stirs against him and groans. “Don’t wanna be anywhere else.”

“I wish like hell I could hold you better,” Justin feathers out over JC’s sculpted cheek and carefully drapes his arm around the taut curves of JC’s ass. “All night long. What’s left of it, anyway.”

“You’re holding me just fine.” JC slides one of his lean legs between Justin’s two and hugs him tighter, closer, as if to “hold” and fully embrace for the two of them. “And you’re still hard as a rock too, babe.”

“JC, don’t start with that shit again,” Justin scolds and snickers. “You know what’ll happen.”

“Yeah. You’ll snark at me s’more.”

“This is good. I like this,” Justin whispers in the near-darkness.

JC snuggles into him more and pauses, allowing the cool silence to strum “I love you” too. “You dissed my bodyguard outside, J. You mean little bitch.”

“Your bodyguard was copping a wiseass attitude with me. Not acceptable.”

“Thanks for getting me back here……….to *our* room……….even if you won’t put out.” JC giggles against Justin’s ear and vibrates their cuddled mass.

“De nada, baby. I dig taking care of you……….And, just for the record, you’re gonna get gallons and goddamn gallons of putting out when you’re all healed again, man. Yeah, ‘putting out’ is gonna hit the fucking mother lode. I am SO serious.”

“And I am so ready for it,” JC says with a soft and steady gush of air.

Gently, quickly, Justin kisses his eyelids as they lower and remain closed. “Go to sleep, sweetness. We’ve got a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”

JC does an achingly slow pelvic swivel and grind of his hips so that their solid cocks rub together once more, separated only by their thin shorts, sending the electrifying shudders/tingles through them both. Then he whimpers moist and warm at a sensitive spot on Justin’s neck. “Ah, and I’m gonna be all over that shit too, babe, ‘cause it feels nice and big already.”

Justin gasps quietly at the trembling sensation that rips over him and only stokes the fires of anticipation that much more. He pulls JC as near to him as possible and brushes the skin at the furrowed corners of his eyes with warm, slick lips.

“Time to relax and dream, sweetness.”

JC’s limber, pliant, and hot in his arms, and Justin’s glad for the drowsiness that’s quickly overtaking the two of them. Maybe his own dick will get the hint and settle the fuck down too. So that Justin can focus on how magnificently *right* this sweet, chaste intimacy feels……….rather than on his scorching desire to flip JC over and drill him hard and long and deep into the mattress until they’re both screaming and clawing and sweating and letting go of all the pent-up explosive steam for each other their bodies can’t hold inside any longer.

*Tomorrow is another day.*

“Night, baby. I love you,” he whispers into JC’s hair.

“Night, J,” is the muffled, groggy response from beside him. “Love you too. Always.”

As the shivery clutches of sleep begin to grab at him greedily, Justin hums softly. “Drinking champagne, feeling no pain……….”



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