Hurricane Joey

By: Dayse

<Kat> another one then...hurricane

<CJ> word: memory

<Dayse> Hurricane, memory...cool :)

"How badly do you think management is freaking out right now?"

Joey smiled through his grimace and continued to root around in the top drawer for the flashlight he knew he had seen there the day before. "I'm guessing Johnny and Mick are taking turns breathing through a paper bag and Danny is yelling at the bodyguards for letting us run off again. 'Course, we are the EXPENDABLE members...Maybe they'll see this as an opportunity to trade us in for someone cuter."

A little put-off by Joey's matter-of-fact dismissal of their value, Chris just shook his head even though the other man couldn't see the gesture. "Now don't be silly, Josephine, who's cuter than us?"

"I hate it when you call me that, Christina," Joey said and let out a short triumphant holler when his hand closed around the flashlight. "Found the sucker. Here, hold on to it while I find something to board up the windows."

Chris had to scramble to catch the object that was suddenly thrown at him and he glared at Joey's back as he started to take apart the shelves of an old book-case. "Watch it, man! This is like our only light source now that the power's out!"

"You caught it didn't you?" Joey rolled his eyes and studied the shelf in his hand, eyed the small box window wearily. "I don't want to climb up there to do this."

Fixing a stubborn look on his face, Chris shook his head and switched on the light, bathing the basement with its sickly yellow glow. Dust mites floated in its beam. "I'm not doing it either. Just leave it, we'll be fine. Basement's the safest place to be, right?"

"It worked for Auntie Em and Uncle Henry," Joey agreed and let the shelf drop. Then, sighing, he sat down on an old washing machine and ran a hand through his hair. "You and your fucking comic books, Chris."

"Hey, Batman was calling out to me!" Chris said, playing with the flashlight. "And when Batman calls, I come a running."

Joey's jaw twitched. "You are DELIBERATELY trying to irk me. Batman, bullshit."

Laughing, Chris moved the flashlight briefly over Joey's face, making him flinch and turn away. "You take your superheros way too seriously, Josephine."

"STOP calling me that!"

The window pane rattled as the winds outside got fiercer and the two men unintentionally quieted, holding their breath for more, but all they heard was more wind and rain as it rushed all over the house.

"I've never been stuck in a hurricane before," Joey said, rubbing his arm. "How long do these things usually last?"

Chris just shrugged and continued to play with the light, bouncing the beam off the walls and ceilings. "Let's hope that it lasts as long as the batteries in this thing."

More silence and Joey's feet drummed lightly against the dryer, his hands holding onto the edges. "The other guys must be wondering where we are. Think they realize we got stuck down here?"

"They must, we told 'em where we were going, but they probably can't do anything about it." Chris made a face. "We're probably safer than they are, that tour van is a fucking sitting duck out in this mess."

"I don't want to think about that," Joey quickly said. And he didn't. His problems were bad enough without having to worry about his buddies out in a goddamn hurricane of all things. He could already feel the uneasiness settling in his stomach, feel the walls closing in around him like Indiana Jones in the Temple of Doom. His legs moved faster.

"Joe?" Chris asked, staring up at the ceiling.

Joey crossed his arms tightly across his chest to hide his shaking hands. "What?"

"Do you really think we're expendable?"

Had he said that? Great, now Chris just wouldn't let it GO and he'd have to have THIS discussion again and Joey was so not in the mood for that. But still...it was talking and it just reminded him of how grateful he was that he wasn't alone right then. "We are," he sighed. "Don't get me wrong, I KNOW it's good with us - I'm just saying it can be good without us, too."

Chris' frown deepened.

"Justin and JC are the soloists, Lance is the bass that all the girls dig 'cause he's from Mississippi and he has nice eyes or some shit. I'm the one with the hair and you're..." His voice trailed off, he uncrossed and crossed his arms.

"I'm what?" Chris prompted.

Picking up the edge in his voice, Joey contemplated trying to change the subject but decided that it was too late for that anyhow. "You're the guy with the high voice who..." He bit his lip, his feet tapped against the washer and he shook his head. "Fuck it, man. I don' know what I'm talkin' 'bout. I'M the expendable one, not you."

"You're not expendable," Chris said softly. "We all agreed right from the start that the minute one of us leaves that the group is over. I don't know about the rest of the guys, I don't know about YOU, but I stick by that oath."

Joey got up and started to pace the small space, his hands rubbing his arms, his gait jittery and nervous. His hair stuck up from the numerous times he had run his hands through it and he had stopped hearing Chris' voice a long time ago. The hurricane raged outside and suddenly he was thinking it didn't sound THAT bad out there...

Chris was standing up straighter, his flashlight tracked Joey as he paced. "Joe? What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Joey muttered, stopping to bounce a little on his heels before continuing to pace. "Hey, uh...maybe - maybe we can try the door again, and uh - maybe we can make it upstairs or - or something..."

Chris looked at him oddly. "What? Are you crazy, Joey, it's fucking El Nino out there - we're not going anywhere."

"But..." Joey rubbed the back of his neck and looked helplessly out the window his hands wringing together. "Fuck, shit."

Floorboards creaked above their heads and the stale air seemed suddenly dry in the basement as Chris continued to watch Joey in the dim light he held in his hands. It flicked dangerously for a moment, turning from bright white to an uncertain yellow. His memory was working over-time, his brain bringing up instances in the past that he had dismissed then but now suddenly made sense.

Joey refusing to go on the tunnel roller coasters in Orlando, Joey being SO pissed off the time they had locked him in the closet a few months back, Joey's quiet spells in long elevator rides...

"Damn," Chris breathed. "Joey...It's okay. It'll pass soon, we won't be in here much longer, really."

"I hate this," Joey whispered. "Goddamnit, I gotta get outta here, Chris. I'm gonna go fucking crazy, I fucking SWEAR. Look, the storm's not THAT bad, hell - it takes hours for these things to travel, right? I'll be better upstairs, I just can't stay here - it's too small, too cramped, I can't fucking BREATHE..."

Joey started to move towards the door and Chris quickly stepped in his path, trying to hold him back with his free hand and the hand that held the flashlight. "Joey, no! Just relax, I'm here and we got lots of air, it's not THAT small. We'll be fine, just take a few deep breaths and - "

"FUCK that!" Joey pushed Chris away and stumbled back into the room. "You don't understand!"

No, Chris didn't understand. And he couldn't bring himself to connect the scared as shit man in front of him with the laid back, laughing friend he knew. "Will it help if you sit down?"

Joey shook his head, ran his sweaty palms down his legs. "No, I'm too nervous, I can't sit, I can't just - just stand STILL. I gotta - "

"Will it help if I hold you?"

Joey stopped, he looked at Chris was an expression that was almost afraid to believe and definitely afraid to ask or say yes. "I - really?"

Nodding, Chris looked around before throwing a few dusty cushions and blankets on the floor. They were moth-eaten but better than a cold cement floor and he settled down on them with a slight grunt, leaned back against the dryer that Joey had been sitting on and gestured for Joey to join him. "Come on," he said, waving his hand. "Sit down and try not to think about it. Close your eyes and you can pretend you're somewhere else."

It was too tempting to refuse. Joey sat down and hesitated briefly before leaning into Chris' open arm and resting his head against his shoulder.

"Close your eyes, listen to the rain - it ain't so bad," Chris prompted gently.

Joey closed his but in his head he still knew where he was. He shook and clenched his fist tightly, determined to not be nervous, to not be so damn scared.

A hand rested over his, Chris' hand - warm and comforting and Joey relaxed a notch. Breath tickled the top of his head as Chris talked, his voice a soothing steady sound over the unsteadiness of the storm.

"Why didn't you ever tell us you were claustrophobic?" he asked.

"I didn't want you guys to think I was a wimp," Joey said. "It's so silly I was embarrassed."

A hand ran through his hair, stroking gently and Joey felt himself relax a little more, his eyes squeezed shut tighter and his breathing started to even out while before it was coming out in erratic bursts. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about," Chris said. "I'm afraid of heights and none of you guys tease me 'bout that, right?"

"But heights is - is reasonable," Joey said. "It's understandable. What kind of fool is afraid of a walk-in closet?"

"You're not a fool," Chris said and he pushed at Joey's shoulder lightly until his head moved to his lap and he was looking down at his friend's closed eyes. "Fear is nothing to be ashamed of."

"Fear sucks," Joey pouted without opening his eyes and Chris chuckled lightly. "Thanks for not making fun of me."

"Never," Chris said and he put his hand against Joey's forehead where the skin was soft and warm. "I'll never make fun. Well, 'cept maybe about the whole Superman thing 'cause you KNOW Batman would kick his ass if it weren't for those superpowers."

Joey laughed and the movement shook Chris' lap, making him flush unexpectedly. "But he DOES have 'em, so tough shit on Batman."

Deciding to let Joey win that one, Chris just leaned back and closed his eyes. When Joey turned suddenly so that his head was facing towards his stomach, his mouth dangerously close to a sensitive place, he held his breath.

It was gonna be a long hurricane.

"Chris?"

Even though he knew it was impossible, Chris could of sworn he felt Joey's breath through his cargo pants and on his crotch. He cleared his throat before answering. "Uh, yeah?"

"I'm sorry if I upset you before, you know - with talking about being expendable and stuff. I know we're all important in our own way, that was just the...the situation talking. I can say stupid stuff when I get all afraid."

"It's okay," Chris said. It WAS okay, in retrospect anyway. At the time it had worried him, stroke a little too close to feelings he'd had himself. "Just don't go being all insecure again, or I'll have to boost your ego."

"Oh?" Joey smiled softly and Chris felt Joey's cheek move against his leg. He shifted again and wondered what he could say or do to distract Joey from the sudden interest his body was taking in this closeness. "How would you do that, Chris?"

"What?" Chris blinked stupidly. Joey wants him to do what?

"Boost my ego," Joey snickered. "You goin' senile already, old man?"

Chris hit him lightly on the head. It was a bad idea, Joey moved closer towards the fly of his pants and he cursed inwardly. Damn, damn, oh damn.

"So?" Joey's eyes were still closed, but now they were no longer shut so tightly. It was more relaxed, almost a sleep-like calm had taken over his face.

"Um, Jesus, Joe. I'd tell you what a kickin' voice you have, what a great personality on stage. You can make people like you by just - just being THERE and you make us more than just another boring boy band. You're...special. Stuff like that."

Tilting his head up slightly, Joey opened his eyes and looked up at him, half his faced illuminated in the flashlight's glow. "Thanks, that's decent, man, really. And next time we have to hang from the ceiling real high by wires - I'll say the same to you."

Chris grinned. "I'll hold you to that."

"In the mean time..." Joey's grinned and let his eyes fall down to Chris' belt. "I'm not the only one that's been trying to hide stuff tonight...Now I KNOW that ain't a flashlight, Chris."

Flushing a rather interesting shade of pink, Chris cleared his throat and shifted back a little against the washing machine. "It's your own fault."

"You're the one that put my head in your lap," Joey pointed out, still grinning. He ran his fingers over the waist of Chris' pants and moved his other arm to the other side of Chris' waist so that he held him in a loose embrace. "If that ain't an invitation for something, I don't know what is."

"I was trying to comfort you," Chris said, blushing harder. "Really."

"Oh, I"m comforted," Joey's eyes sparked with a look that went straight to Chris' weak spots and his fingers moved deftly over his belt. "Really."

"What are you doing?" Chris said weakly. The flashlight rolled from his hand across the room and the window rattled loudly as the hurricane got closer. He was suddenly looking at the top of Joey's head. "Joe?"

Joey grunted a response and Chris heard a zipper, his zipper, go down, felt a sudden looseness around his waist as the button came undone. Joey was taking off his pants. Joey. Was taking off. His pants.

"Claustrophobia makes you horny?" Chris gasped when he felt warm breath on his stomach, lips tickling the light hairs there.

"Nope." Joey bit his stomach with grazing teeth, he mouthed a hip and let his tongue swirl there in a pretty pattern.

"Hurricanes?" Chris could barely see, could barely make out the lines and shapes of the objects around him. His eyes closed and opened without rhythm, without thought. Joey was making his way down lower, Chris felt his cock bump Joey's chin.

"Nope." Joey moved so that he was stretched out more comfortable in front of Chris, his hands pulled down boxers and pants lightly and his mouth found more skin to lick and kiss. "Just you, Chris."

Wet, hot, darkness closed around the tip of Chris' cock as Joey took him into his mouth, his tongue licking him with a sweet, short flick. An agonizing need burned his skin, Chris was gripping the blankets they sat on and Joey's mouth just kept taking him deeper, his head bowing down lower and lower.

Joey's throat worked to take him in and he concentrated on keeping his tongue moving, on sucking as hard as he could as he swallowed back his own saliva and Chris' pre-come. Chris thrust hard, one hand threaded in Joey's hair while the other held fast to his shoulder.

"God," Chris moaned and he bit his bottom lip but didn't feel the pain.

Not stopping in what he was doing, Joey carefully sucked two of his own fingers into his mouth and wet them liberally as he used them to also stroke up and down Chris' cock as it continued to grow hard in his mouth. He smiled inwardly and drew his fingers away as he let his mouth detach from Chris' erection.

"No," Chris grunted and thrust his hips again. "Please, Joe, don't stop..."

"Don't plan on it," Joey said and leaned in for a kiss. Chris felt swollen lips against his and he returned it desperately, his mouth opening for Joey's tongue that tasted sharp and dangerous in his mouth.

Moving Chris' legs further apart, Joey moved to his knees in front of Chris and nudged the other man up so that he was sitting on his thighs, his legs hanging off either side of Joey's hips. His naked groin pressed against Joey's clothed one and Chris moaned at the friction.

"I want you," Joey's voice rumbled deeply against Chris' chest. His hand slid down Chris' back where wet fingers teased at his entrance, making the other man moan louder and push back against them. "Do you want me?"

"That has got to be the stupidest fucking question I have ever heard," Chris breathed and his hands scrambled to take off Joey's pants. "Get them off, now!"

Joey laughed and reached down to bat away Chris' shaking hands, he took them in his own and brought them up to wrap around his own neck where Chris held on fiercely. Joey moaned as his own hand brushed over the bulge in his jeans and he grimaced as he got the zipper down. Damn, he should of taken his pants off BEFORE they started messing around.

"You have such a talented mouth," Chris said and grinded against him suggestively. "And I don't necessarily mean your singing."

"I know what you mean," Joey grinned and he moaned when Chris reached down to stroke him quickly. He moved off him just long enough to lick him thoroughly, wetting him with his mouth before moving back up again.

Holding Chris' slim hips in his hands firmly, Joey closed his eyes and prepared himself as he pushed into Chris' ass, but the tightness nearly made him come nonetheless. "Oh Jesus..." He bit Chris' neck and squeezed him against him. "Oh fuck."

Chris squirmed against him, his arms still around Joey's neck as they began to move together in a graceless but desperate rhythm. The washing machine thumped as if alive with each thrust and Joey let one arm go to hold on to it's lid, using it to push himself into Chris harder and faster.

"Joey." Chris rubbed his fingers over Joey's nipples and luxuriated in the gasp the touch produced, felt himself drifting lost at the sensation of Joey fucking him with an intensity that matched the hurricane outside. "God, I - "

Joey's hand closed over Chris' cock and it only took two strokes before Chris was coming, a breathless scream ghosting past his lips as Joey gave one final thrust before following him in his orgasm, his breath cool against his throat.

The windows rattled. The wind howled. Then suddenly things were still as the hurricane passed and it became calm once again.

Kissing him lightly, his lips nearly numb with hard bites, Chris collapsed against the washer, his eyes closing. "Damn," he muttered. "Who was comforting who now?"

Joey laughed and pulling away gently tugged Chris' boxers and pants back up. "Come on, Kirkpatrick, storm's over. Let's get the hell outta here."

The End

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