The Best Man
By: Dayse
"You SUCK!"
Grumbling lightly under his breath, Joey walked across the dressing room and
plucked his three red darts from the dart board. "Hey, I told you I'm new
at this."
"Then you shouldn't have bet so much you cocky bastard." Still
grinning wildly, Chris waited until Joey was at his side before closing one eye
to take careful aim. He let his blue dart fly in a smooth arch across the
room to hit the red line on the board. "Score!"
Joey rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips.
Aiming again, this time sticking his tongue out comically, Chris let another
dart fly and it cut sharply through the air, much faster then before. It hit
ten points short of the bullseye. "Whoa, I'm good."
Joey groaned and buried his face in his hands, turning away as if he couldn't
bare to watch.
"You're killing me, Chris."
"This was YOUR idea." Chris was fully enjoying himself and he rolled
the final dart around in his hand, playing with the heavy silver and blue
object carefully as he familiarized himself with the weight. "You forget,
I went to college. What do you think college kids DO all day other then drink
beer and have sex?"
"Study?" Joey snapped.
Chris snorted and the final dart flew through the air, seemingly without any
attempt to aim, and hit the red line once again. "That's game. I win, Joe.
I do believe you owe me a sweet fifty."
As Joey continued to curse and mumble under his breath, Chris laughed and
walked over to the dartboard to remove his darts. "I told ya I'd
win."
"I didn't believe you," Joey admitted. "I've seen your aim,
we've shared a bathroom." He sighed and sat down in a large green chair
after passing Chris his money, which Chris made a great show of counting and
inspecting. "Well now what do you wanna do?"
"This is real, right?" Chris held the two twenties and ten up
to the light and squinted at the letters, rubbed the paper between his fingers.
"If this isn't real, I'll turn you in, Joe, don't think I won't."
Smiling lazily, Joey slumped back a little in his chair as he watched his
friend move around the room, burning off his seemingly endless supply of
energy. "You know, we could play something else. Make another bet."
Joey fingered his darts, studying the light that bounced off the pointed silver
tips. "I say you give me a re-match, I was just having an off game."
"Riiight," Chris waved the money in Joey's face before stuffing it in
his pocket. "Face it, Joe, I'm just better then you." He sighed and
held up his right hand, counting off fingers as he spoke. "I'm better at
darts, Playstation, B-Ball, singing, dancing, women..."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Joey waved his hands in the air. "Hold it
right there, little man...women? Excuse me? Is your mind going already? Do you
actually believe that you are better at picking up women then I am?"
Crossing his arms across his chest, the smug smile never left Chris' face.
"Believe? Try know, Supe. The women fall over me, provided they can
even SEE me past that big ol'butt of yours."
"Ha! We ALL know who's the ladies man of the group, and it AIN'T you,
short stuff. I could get any woman, or MAN for that matter, that I want."
Chris raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"
"Damn straight." Joey nodded firmly.
"Well, that sounds like a bet if I ever heard one." A slow lifting
smirk fell across Chris' face and his eyes sparked with barely contained glee.
He looked past Joey to an *NSync poster that hung on the wall behind him and he
held out his hand graciously for the other man to take.
Curious, Joey took it and was pulled to his feet. "Okay, Don Juan Joey,
here's the deal," Chris pressed a dart into Joey's hand. "You let one
fly, and whomever it hits...that's the guy you gotta 'get' with in say ...a
week."
"'Get' being..."
"Sex. Coitus. The horizontal Space Cowboy..."
Looking down at the dart in his hand, to Chris' still smug face, to the poster,
Joey bit his lip in contemplation. "What are the stakes?"
Chris rubbed his goatee. "Well, considering that this goes a little beyond
our usual wagers...let's up the ante. Thousand bucks."
A low whistle and Joey weighed the dart in his hand. "That's a lot of
money. And I only get one week?"
"Casa Nova like you...shouldn't take any longer then that. And you did say
anyone. Unless of course you were just blowing hot hair and know that
you can't..." He let his voice deliberately trail off and chuckled
in satisfaction when Joey leveled him with a glare and turned to face the
poster.
"Should I aim?"
Chris grunted. "Right, with you it won't matter." He paused
and reached into his pocket for his bandanna. "But even you can get lucky,
so..." He tied the blue and white patterned cloth around Joey's head and
waved a hand in front of his eyes. When he got no reaction, he patted the other
man on the shoulder and guided his hand in the general direction of the poster.
"Okay, dude, go for it....let's see who the victim, er, I mean lucky
contestant is."
The dart flew, and there was a dull, satisfying thunk of the point
meeting its target. Joey heard Chris breathe in abruptly and he quickly ripped
the blindfold off his eyes.
Poster Chris was sporting the blue dart. Right between the eyes. He looked over
his shoulder at the other man who was looking at the poster with a mix of
disbelief, amusement, and confusion on his face. "Looks like this is going
to be interesting," Joey commented.
"Interesting my ass! This'll be the easiest money I've ever made!"
Chris cheered, almost immediately dropping into his old familiar mask of
enthusiasm. "I think I can go for a week without succumbing to your charms,
Joseph. 'Specially with a grand at stake." His voice was sarcastic but
with an underlining emotion that made Joey smile, that made his confidence
shoot up a notch.
"Guess we'll see," he said softly, eyes hooded. "Won't we?"
The next two days for Chris were hell. He had been so sure that Joey would be
his shadow, that he would be trying out all kinds of lines and stuff on him,
but in fact he did the opposite: he avoided him. It was infuriating, it was
exasperating. Not only was he doing the LAST thing Chris had expected him to,
but he also found that he was missing the silly bastard.
It was all part of his plan, Chris thought darkly as he wandered into Justin's
hotel room that morning where the group would be gathering for breakfast. It
was all part of his weird, twisted, Italian plan to win the bet. The half
looks, the mumbled conversations and one word answers, it was all part of it.
Even the times that Chris had tried to initiate a conversation or a place to go
and hang out, Joey had made an excuse or just smiled and nodded politely rather
then participate. The other guys were starting to think that they were
fighting.
Chris let out an exasperated breath and waved a half-hearted hello to Justin
who was bent over a bowl of cereal. Justin just grunted back, and continued to
shovel spoonful after spoonful of the goop in his mouth.
"Hey, guys." JC and Joey walked into the room, both smiling wildly
and chuckling over some private joke. JC nodded at Chris and his grin turned
sloppy, on the edge of laughter. "Chris..."
"Hi, JC..." Chris raised an eyebrow at both men and watched as Joey
whistled happily around the table to sit next to Justin. "Mornin',
Joe."
Joey just nodded in return and poured out a bowl of cereal for himself. Chris
felt his fist clench under the table. The silent treatment was really starting
to piss him off. He all but glared across the table as Joey started to munch on
his breakfast, talking animatedly with JC about a movie that they had watched
together on pay-per-view the night before. But his glare softened quickly.
Usually Joey would have watched the latest Bruce Willis flick with him.
This whole bet thing was starting to turn out to be more upsetting than funny.
He missed his friend. He missed his company. He missed Joey and it had
only been two freaking days! And it wasn't as if they still didn't see each
other or talk...but it was as if someone had turned the volume down on
their friendship, that it was somehow muted in comparison to the way it was
before. Chris frowned and looked down at the table, trying to decide what he
should do.
"Morning y'all." The group let out a chorus of hellos as Lance
entered the room, yawning and rubbing at his eyes. Justin merely grunted again
and continued to look blankly ahead as he ate, the level of his cereal slowly
declining as he did.
Joey visibly brightened at the sight of Lance and he leaned eagerly foreword as
he spoke. "Hey, dude, guess who called me last night?"
Pretending to think it over, Lance put a finger to his chin and looked off into
space. Chris couldn't help but think it was things like that that made
everyone think he was queer. "I don't know, who?"
If possible, Joey's smile grew and Chris caught himself staring at his mouth.
"Lou and Jimmy! They want us to meet them for the day, hang out!"
"Really? Cool! I didn't know Bloodhound Gang was in town."
"They're doing some promotional thing," Joey said as he peeled an
orange and stuffed the pieces into his mouth. "But their afternoon is
totally free."
"Alright," Lance said and nodded happily, excited at the idea of
seeing their friends again.
JC was snickering as he snuck pieces of orange peel into Justin's cereal bowl,
while the younger man ate on, oblivious. "You guys are still gonna join us
at the club after, right?"
"Sure," Lance nodded.
Joey seemed to hesitate before answering, so JC turned to Chris next.
"Chris, you coming with us tonight, man?"
It would give him an opportunity to hang with Joey. Joey NEVER missed an
opportunity to go clubbing. He might have to deal with the ramifications of
their bet, of beating Joey off with a stick all night but he didn't consider
that a problem. After all, it was just JOEY. And he had known JOEY for a long
time, he knew all of Joey's tricks and lines and charming little quirks. Chris
nodded. "Yeah, I'll be there."
"I can't come," Joey quickly said, right after. He offered a half
shrug before bending back over his orange. "Sorry."
FUCKING SON OF A BITCH BASTARD BITCH WHORE DAMN SHIT FUCK..."Why
not?" Chris demanded.
Joey raised an eyebrow, and made eye contact him for the first time in what
seemed like a while. "I just can't."
Silence reigned over the table and Lance cleared his throat while JC seemed to
stifle more chuckles. Justin swallowed an orange peel and promptly started to
cough. He glared up at JC and picked up his bowl slowly...
"No! Don't you dare, Curly!"
"Run..." Justin growled. And JC ran with Justin chasing him, bowl in
hand.
Breakfast was finished.
It would of been too obvious that something was up if Chris had canceled the offer
to go clubbing so soon after he accepted, so with false enthusiasm and a
twitchy smile, Chris had left with Lance, JC and Justin to the club that night.
Joey had stayed at the hotel, insisting he would be fine on his own.
And Chris couldn't be too sure but he thought he saw Joey wink before the door
closed behind them.
Three in the morning, Chris stumbled home. Or rather, temporary home number
2,301. He had stayed a lot longer then he had planned, talking and dancing and
drinking. And trying not to think about Joey or the bet or any of it.
Not Joey and how he missed him. Joey and how they no longer did anything
together. Joey and how he looked so nice when he smiled. Joey and how he
seemed to be winning without doing ANYTHING...
Chris threw off his jacket and flung himself on the couch, too tired to make it
all the way to his bedroom. Distantly he wondered where JC was, considering
they were sharing a room and they had come back at the same time.
Truthfully, though, he was glad to be alone. It gave him time to think. Before
the bet he had never really looked at Joey as any more then a friend. A close,
good-looking friend, but a friend. But ever since the stupid bet, his mind
couldn't help but go...there. Still, it was all under control, he wasn't
about to jump the other man's bones, or let Joey jump anything of his but...he
missed him. He didn't think missing him would be part of the bargain.
The door opened but Chris didn't look up or open his eyes, expecting JC. Then
the couch dipped as someone sat down and a familiar cologne that didn't belong
to JC wafted through the air and he jerked his eyes open.
His mouth dropped when Joey's shadow loomed over him, impossibly close. His
eyes were dim with lust, and in them was a look of utter compliance, and
obedience. Chris got the impression that at that moment Joey would have done
anything that was asked of him; Chris swallowed hard.
"Hi." His breath was a soft touch of cool air on Chris' cheek.
"I traded with JC, I'm your new roommate now," Joey said, voice
casual and incredibly soft, intimate. A gleam came to his eyes that was visible
even in the dim light. "I'm sorry I've been ignoring you, but,
well..."
"Joey, what are you doing?" Shit. His voice wasn't suppose to have
shuddered like that.
A hand reached out and straightened Chris' collar, Joey continued on in his
low, subdued tone. "Do you need help getting to bed?"
No. He most definitely didn't. "I think I'm going to sleep out here,"
Chris said. Then, adding a little more strength to his tone, Chris raised his
chin. "Goodnight, Joe."
Joey smiled and leaned in a little more before tilting his head to the side and
looking the other man over, slowly. Chris shifted under the scrutiny, felt the
temperature in the room rise a couple of degrees.
"Goodnight, Chris. See you in the morning."
A light touch on his shoulder and Joey was gone, a shadow blending into the
darkness of JC's old room.
Chris let out the breath he had been holding and stared up at the ceiling
suddenly wondering if the silent treatment had been such a bad thing after all,
at least that way he could miss and be pissed off at Joey, now it was just
getting...
He moaned and turned over onto his stomach, burying his face in the couch
cushions. Five days to go and already things were getting difficult.
Day three was enough to nearly push Chris to the brink of insanity. Everywhere
he turned Joey was accidentally bumping his shoulder, brushing elbows, or
otherwise touching him. Normally, it would have irritated the hell out of him,
but after two days of hardly seeing the other man at all, it was...welcome. He
was starting to love every touch, to look foreword to it after such a long dry
spell.
And that had, of course, been Joey's plan all along. And Chris hated that. He
was about one hand brush away from running screaming out of the room to safety.
It had turned into a game, a laughing dance where Joey would come near him and
he would tense up and jump out of the way whenever it seemed like he would
touch him.
It didn't help that Joey seemed to know exactly what he was doing, that he was
even getting a kick out of it. If anything, he seemed to like the challenge.
Chris would catch him looking at him, from across the room, from across the
table, and not caring at all when he got caught. He'd be giving a half smile,
his eyes always focused on some part of Chris' body, and his body language
was...involved. Slumped and languid. Chris couldn't help but wonder if the
things he was noticing was Joey's attempt at a seduction, or things that the
other man had always done, but he had just never noticed. Either way, it was
not helping his already shattered nerves.
The guys were, as usual, amused and inactive in their antics. Chris was fairly
sure that they all knew about the 'bet' that was going on between the two men.
Was even more sure that there were probably a few side bets going on.
It was about five in the afternoon when Chris realized that he would have to go
on the offensive. He'd had his back turned to the door and was staring blankly
at the TV when a footfall sounded behind him and he scrambled to his feet and
turned to see Justin standing a few feet away, orange juice carton in hand and
a basketball tucked under his arm.
He gave Chris an odd look, twirled the ball on his finger. "You okay, man?
You seem jumpy."
"Jumpy? Who's jumpy? I'm not jumpy, not jumpy at all. Who said I was
jumpy, who told you I was jumpy? Was it Joey? Did JOEY say I was jumpy? It was
Joey wasn't it? Damn him!"
Head tilted back and mouth open, the hand holding the orange juice carton froze
in the air and he gave Chris a raised eyebrow.
The door opened again and Lance walked in, a towel swung over his shoulder and
sweat running down his face. He frowned at Justin. "You shouldn't drink
straight from the carton, you think the rest of us want your spit in our
juice?"
Justin rolled his eyes and reached for a glass.
"Where's Joey?" Chris demanded.
Lance started slightly at Chris' tone and gave him a confused look. "He's
in the gym with JC. Why?"
Ignoring the question, Chris brushed by him quickly and headed for the hotel
gym, a determined look on his face. He was NOT going to lose this bet.
He found Joey shirtless and out of breath, running laps with an equally tired
JC. For a moment Chris just watched them run, their legs pumping in tandem and
their arms waving at their sides.
Sweat ran freely down Joey's bare torso and back, the muscles in his legs
rippled with each step they took and his hair was matted to his forehead. There
was a look of intensity on his face and Chris' eyes followed him as he moved,
his eyes lingering on the lines and curves of the strong, hard body.
When the pair neared him on their round, Chris stepped back and jerked his head
for Joey to stop. "JOE! Come here, dude. I wanna talk to you." He
gave JC a 'and you're not invited' look.
Taking the hint, JC stopped and all but collapsed on the ground. Doubled over
with his hands on his knees he breathed heavily and accepted the pat Joey gave
his back with a weak smile. "Thanks for the workout."
"Thanks for going easy on me," Joey offered back, his chest heaving
slightly. "See ya later."
JC nodded and wobbled off in the direction of the doors and the two men were
left alone.
Joey smiled at Chris and accepted the towel that was offered. "So, what do
you want to talk about?"
"The bet."
"Isn't that against the rules? 'You do not talk about the bet'?" Joey
asked. He threw his head back and took a long, luxurious drink from his water
bottle, letting it dribble down the sides of his mouth and chin to his chest
where it traced drops of moisture down to the waistband of his shorts.
Chris gulped and quickly looked away. "I think you're getting the bet
confused with 'Fight Club', Joe. I want to expand on our bet, change the rules
a little..."
A short pause and Joey sucked moisture from his bottom lip. "Okay, what do
you want to change?"
"I want a chance to defend myself," Chris smiled slowly and took a
step towards the half naked man. When a look of confusion passed over Joey's
face, Chris moved closer, encouraged. "The deal was if you could get me to
fall for the Fatone charms, you win a grand, right? Well...what if YOU fall for
MY charms?" Chris ran a hand down Joey's chest, eliciting a shiver and he
wrapped leather clad arms around the bare waist, pulling him close. Oh, it was
wonderful. This body pressed against him, finally, FINALLY being able to touch
him. "If YOU ask ME for anything, if you cave into me first...then I win.
What do you think?"
Joey bit his lip, he wanted to argue the point, this would only make things
harder for him. Chris seemed to sense the argument coming and he raised a hand
to the back of Joey's head, ran fingers through his wet hair. "Unless
you're afraid that you'll lose."
His hand fisted in Joey's hair and he gripped him hard as he brought his head
down towards his, capturing his lips in a hot, lingering kiss. Licking at
Joey's lips, he couldn't suppress his moan when Joey opened his mouth and he
was suddenly engulfed by warm, wet, heat. Joey tasted like Gatorade and sweat
and Chris held him tighter, sucking on his tongue and feeling every inch of the
body that was pressed against his.
Jesus Christ...the words "you win, let's fuck" sprang to Chris' mind
and he pulled away before he could say them out loud. Their lips detached with
a light sucking sound and Joey seemed to collapse slightly against him, Chris's
grip on him tightened and he held back a triumphant smile.
Lips swollen and red, Joey blinked and stared hard at his friend.
"Okay," he said softly. "You got a deal. New bet."
"New bet." Chris stepped back and immediately felt the loss of heat
and security. He licked his own lips, knew that he must of looked...hungry. He
extended his hand, inhaled deeply and smelt Joey's scent on his clothes. He'd
be sleeping in his shirt and jacket that night. "Shake on it?"
A warm hand engulfed his and the shake lingered briefly. Joey seemed to have
regained some of his composure, some of his confidence. "May the best man
win."
Chris had just settled underneath the covers of his bed when his cell phone
rang. A look over at the neon digital numbers of a clock radio revealed it to
be two in the morning, and he let out a soft grunt of impatience before
reaching for his phone to answer.
"Hello."
"Are you thinking of me?"
Shit. Joey.
"Do you know what time it is?"
"I'm thinking of you..." His voice came in clear and seductive over
the phone. Chris closed his eyes and could picture the other man in the
room next to his, lying in bed like he was, wearing only boxer shorts and maybe
a lazy, sleepy smile.
"It's too late for this."
"To think, there's only this one small wall separating us..." His
voice trailed off and Chris suddenly froze in bed, not liking the direction
this conversation was taking. Hang up, a voice in his head told him. Hang up
the phone!
"Did I ever tell you about my first time, Chris?" His name had never
sounded so good on someone's voice before, and his hand tightened on his small
phone. For a moment he was afraid that he'd crush the frail plastic.
"No," he managed. Or squeaked. Fuuuuuuck...
There was a slight rustling on the other end that sounded like blankets
shifting and Chris swallowed. "He lived next door to me in Orlando, a guy
named Roger Barrymore. No relation to Drew," Joey's chuckle was soft and
mellow. His voice became distant. "He was about five years older then
me." A thoughtful pause. "Just like you."
Oh crap.
"And I think I loved him. Can't be sure though, he didn't stick around
long enough for me to be sure. But he had great hands, and he was really nice
and funny, and he liked me. At least, I like to think he did." Chris felt
himself being lulled into calmness by the serene sound of Joey's voice, he
started to think that this wasn't an attempt at seduction at all. He felt his
guard drop, tension ease from his body.
His eyes fluttered shut and he pressed his phone to his ear, wanting to hear
every dip and emotion in Joey's voice, not wanting to miss a thing.
"We'd only known each other a few days when I could start to tell he
thought of me in a way that I wasn't used to guys thinking of me. I guess I
caught on by the way he use to touch me, or look at me, or even talk to me. He
had great eyes and they had a way of just...staring without staring in a way
that made you uncomfortable, you know?"
Chris made a small sound of agreement. He knew. Joey did it all the time.
"One day he just came out and told me. Told me he was attracted to me and
that he thought about me, and I was...very flattered. I admired him, looked up
to him. He was the kind of person that I wanted to be and knowing that someone
that I thought that much about felt that way about someone like me, it meant a
lot. Chris..." his voice got deeper, a little huskier. "I would have
done anything for him. Just like I would do anything for you."
Chris held his breath at the implications in that sentence. The sincerity.
"I'm lying in bed thinking about you, thinking about how you're in the
room next to me and I'm thinking about how you kissed me..." Joey's sigh
was soft and erotic through the phone, and there was more rustling blankets
before the voice came again. "You felt so good in my arms, Chris, and I
liked being in yours."
There was a pause.
"But I was talking about Roger. We never dated, exactly. I didn't want
that at the time and neither did he. But one time, when he was at my house and
my parents were gone, I let him kiss me. He wasn't as good a kisser as you, but
at the time I felt...it was astronomical." Joey laughed again and Chris
smiled at the sound. "Hey, chalk that up in the record book, Chris, I just
used the word 'astronomical'! But it was, it was great." Chris could hear
the smile in Joey's voice, then it dipped again and he felt his heart flutter
in his chest.
"His hands, I told you about his hands...they were rough and callused
because he lifted boxes for a living and they felt so good as they touched my
neck, my arms. They were strong, I felt totally weak against him, totally in
his control. He could of done anything to me but I trusted him to not do
anything I didn't want to. They reached into my shirt, ran over my skin, my
stomach, and he kissed me again and again all over and each time he did I just
felt myself falling deeper and deeper into him. I loved it when he sucked my
neck, my neck is my weak spot, remember that, Chris..."
Joey was slightly breathless now and his voice was getting fainter, farther and
farther away. "We were in my room, and he pushed me back on the bed, I
felt nervous, scared, but so turned on, I'd never felt that way before
and it was exhilarating. I felt like I was breathing for the first time. He was
pressing against me, taking off my clothes, his hands were on my waist, my
hips, they touched me and held me and oh God..." it came out as a moan and
Chris bit hard into his lower lip.
"He talked to me while he kissed me and touched me, kept telling me how
beautiful and sexy I was, and for the first time in my life I actually believed
it. I trusted him. He spread my knees apart and I felt him against me,
he was so big and hard and I was terrified because I'd never thought this would
be me, that this would happen to me and that I would like it so much. He took
me in his hand and started to stroke me and rub and I felt so turned on, I
couldn't breathe, I couldn't think, I just wanted him, I wanted him like I'd
never wanted anybody before." Joey's words came out rushed, and
breathless, his moans were breaking his words and sentences apart, Chris felt
himself reach down into his covers, felt himself arch his back into his own
hand. God, it'd be so easy...so easy to just go out the door into the next
room...
"I'd never been fucked before," there was a light smacking of Joey
wetting his lips, "I didn't know what to expect. When he pushed into me, I
was pinned underneath him, moaning and shaking. He was so big, and I was
pushing against him, begging for more and he just kept thrusting and kissing
me. Oh God, fuck..." Joey moaned again and the line went silent for
several seconds before the voice came back, hoarser and lower then it was
before. "Over and over, just 'please, please, oh God, please'..."
Chris felt as if he was going to burst, to fall apart at the seams from Joey's
cries of passion and lust coming through the phone, so real and so close. It
was as if he were re-living it, as if was getting off right there with Chris
listening. The very idea that he actually was made Chris groan in return and he
let his hand wander and stroke himself faster and a little more desperately.
Hang up the phone. Hangupthephonehangupthephone...
"Chris..." His name came out of Joey's mouth as a moan, and it was
ragged and harsh and out of breath. There were more moans, the sound of a
headboard knocking against the wall resounded both over the phone and through
the wall that separated them and Chris was reminded abruptly, suddenly that
Joey was RIGHT. NEXT. DOOR...
"I want you to touch me," Joey rasped. "I want you here, with
me, now...all you have to do is ask..."
Hangup, hangup, hangup...Chris could see it in his head. Could picture it so
clearly: He'd walk up, rush to the door, step into Joey's room and just kiss
him and rip off his boxers and...and...
Chris hung up. His phone fell limply from his hand to the carpeted floor and
his hips jerked up from the bed before he came with a cry of pleasure.
Through the wall, very faint, hardly there, he heard Joey's own moan. A soft,
muffled sigh.
Breathing hard through his mouth, gasping for breath, Chris closed his eyes and
let the last tremors of pleasure pass through his body before he fell asleep.
Day four and Joey was...smug. He walked into Justin's room with a small,
private smile on his face, and a slight swagger. Chris watched him approach
from over the top of his paper, trying not to be too obvious about it.
"Good morning, Chris."
"Good morning, Joey."
Justin looked back and forth between the two men and grunted. Ate his cereal.
He had to retaliate, he had to think of something. Joey was waaaaay ahead and
every time he saw him his brain would lock and he would just think about what
it would feel like to grab him and touch him and squeeze him through his
rumpled clothing and ... and that would most definitely not win him any bets.
Although at this point, losing wasn't such a bad prospect either.
Chris paced his small bedroom, running a hand through his hair and glancing at
the bedside clock. Two hours before rehearsal, and he could hear Joey enter the
hotel room outside, now would be as a good a time as any to try something. But
what? A week. A WEEK! Only three more days, he could last three more days, damn
it. He COULD.
Setting his jaw determinedly and straightening out his clothes, Chris stepped
out of his room and saw Joey lounging on the couch, TV on and coke in hand.
"Chris. Hi," Joey smiled and toasted him briefly with his coke can
before taking a drink. He blinked innocently. "You sleep well?"
Dressed in a white wife-beater and faded jeans, Joey was looking subdued and
incredibly hot. His arms were bare and Chris could see the muscles flex and
move every so often. "Like a baby, mind if I join you?" At Joey's
head shake, Chris took a seat on the other end of the couch, and for a moment
both men sat in silence, watching Road Runner and Wyle E. Coyote run around on
the television screen.
Then, it hit him. A brilliant, wonderful, evil idea. He glanced at Joey
discreetly and noticed that he was totally focused, or at least appeared to be
focused, on the show.
Moving casually, Chris swung his legs over on the couch and sat with his back
to the arm rest, eyes still fixed on the TV. One socked foot hung over the side
as the other remained tucked in against him.
When Wyle E ran over the cliff, Chris swung his right foot off the floor and
onto Joey's lap. He smiled a little a when Joey glanced his way. "I'm just
stretching my legs, man, do you mind?"
Joey shifted on the couch, the coke can in his hand rumpled slightly.
"No."
A few tension filled minutes passed, Chris could feel small tremors and shakes
underneath his foot and he fought a smile, kept his eyes fixed on the cartoon.
He waited until Joey had relaxed before moving his foot a fraction of an inch
closer to the jean clad crotch and felt with satisfaction Joey tense up again.
Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Joey toss an alarmed look his way, could
hear him clear his throat loudly and take a drink of his coke. But he made no
move to push the foot away.
That would, after all, be giving in.
Fighting the urge to move on too quickly, Chris waited again. Waited through
three commercials and half a 'Knighty Knight Bugs'. Unlike before, Joey seemed to
tense and shift with each passing second, now that Chris' intent had become
clear.
Chris bobbed his heel and Joey sucked his teeth, closed his eyes. The coke can
was slowly dying a crushed death.
Chris hadn't looked away from the screen. His heel lightly grazed Joey's
crotch, and he felt hips shift underneath him, heard Joey's sharp intake of
breath, and fought back a satisfied chuckle. Oh yeah, now who's the fucking
tease?
He could feel Joey hardening against his foot, and he rubbed the erection with
his heel, let the side of his foot graze it up and down. The jean material was
heavy and rough through his sock and Joey whimpered, squirmed heavily on the
couch cushions. Chris wanted desperately to look, to see Joey's face. But he
knew if he did he'd be screwed.
He could picture it though, boy could he picture it. Joey's face would be
flushed and hot, he'd be licking his lips and his head would be bowed. His eyes
would be shut, and his breath would be coming out shallow and hot from soft,
silky lips. A sleepy, weakening arousal -- Joey defined the 'bedroom look'.
The foot pressed against him, unmoving, but a solid, warm presence, and Joey
was fighting the urge to grab the leg, to pull Chris in towards him. Oh
damn...he blinked heavily, felt his body go limp with pleasure, while he still
remained hard and aching for release. No fair, his muddied mind told him. No
fair...I never touched...
Chris' toes wriggled against his crotch, toyed with the button and fitted
against the flap that was over the zipper. Again he was struck by how easy it
would be to just reach over and unzip and unbutton the restraining clothes, to
just do what they both so obviously wanted.
It wasn't even about the money anymore, it was about who would give in first.
And damn both their pride, they were going to have a serious case of blue balls
when it was over. Unless one of them gave in.
A moan rattled out of Joey's mouth and Chris bit his own lip as he pulled his
foot away. He looked away from the screen and met Joey's eyes. He looked the
way Chris knew he would.
Fucking amazing.
Chris looked Joey up and down, his eyes lingering over the noticeable bulge in
the faded jeans. "You have anything you want to say, Joe?" He was
surprised at the way the words came out. They were almost threatening. Damn
near pleading.
God, just ask...ASK...
His chest was rising and falling noticeably, there was a glint to his eyes that
Chris had seen several times before but had never been on the receiving end of.
Joey nodded slowly. "I can think of a lot of things I wanna say."
Joey stood and practically ran from room. Chris finally let the chuckles that
had been bubbling up inside him break free and he chalked up a point on a
mental scoreboard for himself.
Three days. He could make it three days. Sure, Joey was sexy and so, so
compliant, and he seemed to know all the right moves but he did not have Chris'
self-control. And Chris was offering right then and there and if Joey wanted
him half as much as he let on, he couldn't possibly last. This was the guy that
had once had sex with a girl in a public dressing room because they couldn't
wait to get back to the hotel. Chris remembered that day clearly, Joey had made
him stand out in front of the dressing rooms, making sure no one walked in on
them, and he had been grumpy the whole day.
He remembered when Joey walked out. Flushed, sweaty, his cheeks pink with
exertion. He had walked a little slower, his body folding easily against the
girl's, and mouth slack with pleasure. His eyes had been so bright, he just
seemed to glow all over...Joey after sex.
What? NO! Chris gave his head a vicious shake and sprang to his feet. Don't go
there, Kirkpatrick, he growled to himself. Don't go there...You have the upper
hand for the first time, don't lose it now.
Upper hand? You have a gorgeous, sexy guy who WON'T sleep with you and THAT'S a
GOOD thing? Right. Suuuure.
Great, even his inner voice was sarcastic.
With a hard sigh, Chris lumbered into his room and shut the door behind him. He
needed another cold shower.
JC and Lance had just been exiting their room when Joey burst out of his own,
practically running Lance over and barreling down the hallway with a hurried
apology.
The two watched him disappear around the corner and exchanged looks. They could
hear the shower turn on in the other room.
"So who's winning and who's losing?" Lance asked, confused.
"I think both of 'em are," JC shook his head and cast Lance a sly,
side-long glance. "Hey, maybe we should start our own bet."
Lance just glared.
Joey was pacing. He walked and forth in the small space of the elevator,
running tense hands through his hair and trying not to think about Chris and
his damn FOOT. Who would of thought that he had such good...toe control. Joey
couldn't help but laugh out loud at that thought, the older man was just
constantly surprising him.
He closed his eyes and slowly stopped pacing. Falling back against the elevator
wall, Joey sighed under his breath and absently rubbed at his stomach, silently
willing his erection to go away.
Chris and his smile, and his energy. What that energy was capable of...Joey
couldn't wait to find out. And he was an incredible kisser, amazing with his
hands and he used his entire body so well. He fit surprisingly well in
Joey's arms and he wanted nothing more then to just go back upstairs and feed
on that very feeling. He wanted Chris, wanted his scruffy, cute, babbling self,
and it'd be so damn easy to just give in. Two simple words: "you win"
and they could just END this stupid bet.
But he wouldn't do it. He wouldn't be the first to give in. Joey groaned out
loud again and ran a hand down his face. It had been a stupid idea and now they
were stuck with it. What had started out as more a joke than anything else was
changing everything.
Three days. Joey didn't know how he was going to make it three more days. Well,
one thing was for sure, he wasn't going to make it any easier for Chris.
Rehearsal had gone well with everyone putting forward a grueling twelve hours
of solid work and practice before returning to the hotel exhausted and
starving. JC was sleeping it off in his room, and Lance and Justin were
attacking the buffet downstairs.
Which left Chris and Joey alone. Again.
Chris, although tired from rehearsal, was on edge once again. It was Joey's
'turn' to try something and he had the distinct impression that it wouldn't
take much to push him over the edge at this point. His defenses were down, he
was exhausted, and Joey was looking better and better with each passing moment.
"Drink?" Joey asked from the kitchen, standing in the blast of cool
air that was emanating from the open fridge door.
"Uh, yeah, sure. Coke." Chris sat tensely on the couch, not daring to
look behind him as he heard the fridge door close and Joey approach. A can
waved in front of his face and he took the cool can, slick with condensation,
and popped it open with a shaking hand. "Thank...you," he said, voice
halting.
"You're wel...come," Joey teased and crouched foreword to lean
against the couch, his arms folded over the back and his own can in his hand.
He didn't sit down, seemingly content to stand. "I think rehearsal went
well," he started. "Lance did 'It's Gonna Be Me' with hardly any
mistakes."
"Uh huh..."
"JC kinda screwed up on 'Bye Bye Bye' but his voice was kickin' as
usual." Joey took a drink and reached for the remote. "Wonder what's
on..."
What was he doing? What was his plan? He was plotting something, Chris was sure
he was. But he was making him sweat it out, he was making him suffer. Chris'
foot bounced against the floor and he frowned intently at the screen. He could
feel the heat radiating off Joey's arm, could sense his presence so close by,
if his arm slipped just a little then they'd be touching. But they weren't.
"You okay, dude? You seem tense." Joey's voice was light, friendly.
Smarmy.
"Tense? Who's tense? I'm not tense, you're tense, don't call
me..." Chris clamped his mouth shut to cut off his rambling. Smooth,
Chris, he thought to himself. Real, freaking, smooth.
Joey chuckled lightly and handed Chris his coke can which the older man took
with a light grunt before placing on the coffee table. "You're tense, it
was a long, hard rehearsal." Chris noticed that there had been a slight
emphasis on the words 'long' and 'hard'.
When two hands fell on his shoulders, Chris nearly dropped his can and he felt
his back stiffen at the touch.
"Relax..." Joey's voice was smooth and soothing. He reached down and
took the can from Chris' limp fingers, put it on the floor next to his foot.
"I promise, I give amazing neck rubs."
"That's what I'm afraid of," Chris muttered, but he felt his head
falling back against the couch despite reason telling him not to, felt his eyes
slip shut.
Joey's hands were strong and skilled on his neck and shoulders as they kneaded
the flesh and muscles, pushing away the tension and strain of the work-out.
Chris felt as if a weight was being gradually lifted off his shoulders, bit by
bit, and Joey's hands kept moving, running all over his neck.
"This'll be easier if you take off your shirt."
Chris moved without hesitation, lifting the constricting fabric over his head
before tossing it aside and sitting back again, not once opening his eyes.
A soft sigh escaped his lips when Joey's hands returned, and the sigh turned
into a gasp when light fingers brushed over his neck and throat. Joey was
looming over him, watching his face carefully for reaction, and Chris fought to
keep his face neutral, trying not to let the pleasure he felt show through, but
he was straining, his body squirming a little on the couch. The hands continued
to move on his shoulders, rubbing him and forcing his body to go limp and
boneless with pleasure from the gentle ministrations. If Chris opened his eyes,
he knew he would be screwed. It would just take one look and this whole thing
would be over.
Then Joey's hands began to wander.
They slid down his shoulders to Chris' chest, continued to stroke and trail and
rub. He heard Joey's intake of breath, and he bit down on his tongue to hold
back his own moans. Joey's hand continued to sink lower and lower until it was
resting on the waist of Chris' jeans and his lips were pressed to Chris'
throat. Teeth scraped lightly over the skin and he pressed into the contact.
"Oh fuck..." Chris breathed when Joey's tongue darted out to lick and
suck at the pulse point on his neck. Joey's hand rested lightly on the front of
his jeans...not moving, but just sitting, waiting.
Chris opened his eyes and found himself staring up into an intense, wanting
gaze. Like being caught by a hypnotist, he couldn't look away. Joey leaned in,
caught his mouth in a kiss which Chris eagerly returned, his tongue meeting
with Joey's as they waged a silent war inside each other's mouths. Lips pressed
together hard and noses bumped, Chris brought a hand up to the back of Joey's
neck and held his mouth against his own harder and closer; his hips bucked up
into Joey's pressing hand.
Pulling away just long enough to vault over the back of the couch and push
Chris back against the cushions, Joey quickly started the assault on his mouth
again, while grinding his hips down and against the other man's. Hands pulled
at his shirt, lifting it up and off his body; he gasped and shivered as Chris
brought his knee up between Joey's legs.
"Chris..." he hissed through clenched teeth then took hold of his
knee and used it to spread his legs apart and crawl between them. "You do
realize that you're ONE letter away from being 'Christ'?" Joey began to
kiss down his chest, licking and sucking at flesh and skin, causing goosebumps
and sweat to break out on the slim chest. He took a nipple into his mouth and
sucked and bit lightly, causing a moan of pleasure and pain.
"Oh God, you bastard..." Chris felt Joey's hands holding his hips
pinned to the cushions, felt Joey going lower and lower down his body, his lips
and tongue pressing kisses all over his chest and stomach. He felt himself
straining against the tight confines of his jeans, his breath hitching in his
throat.
Joey's mouth covered his jean clad crotch. He sucked and licked the fabric
until it was damp and hot with his ministrations, and Chris thrashed his hips
wildly, aching to be in Joey's mouth. Joey's fingers were digging into his
waist, pulling at the belt and button of his pants, but then...he stopped.
A protest died in Chris' throat, he felt too out of it, too lost in his own
lust and madness to put a voice to ANYTHING.
When Joey pulled away, both were breathless, both panting. Chris had never seen
such a look of desperation in his friend's eyes. "Say it," Joey
growled. "Fucking say it, Chris!"
He opened his mouth, his hand tightened on the back of Joey's neck. "You w
- "
The phone rang and Joey's eyes widened in disbelief. "No...NO!"
Chris groaned, felt a shudder wrack his body as his hand slipped from the back
of Joey's shoulder and the hands fell away from his body. It was like being
doused with a cold cup of water and he blinked hard, rubbed his face. Saved by
the bell or cursed by bad timing? The ringing of the phone was shrill and way
too loud. Joey crawled off Chris' body, his legs jello underneath him.
Chris pushed up onto a sitting position on the couch, feeling as if he had just
run a marathon. He was sore all over with this continuing tease his body was
being put through. He wanted Joey, he wanted his best friend in the most
desperate sort of way, but...
Joey was swearing a blue streak, kicking the coke can and sending it flying
across the room leaving a mid-air trail of brown, fizzy liquid in its wake. He
was not taking it well at all, and that, at least, made Chris fairly confident
that if he hadn't been willing to give in, Joey most certainly would have.
He picked up the phone, gripped the plastic hard in his right hand.
"WHAT?!" He realized he was screaming, but didn't care.
There was a pause at the other end before Lance's tentative voice came through.
"Did I call at a bad time?"
Chris looked over at Joey who was standing with his arms crossed over his chest
and a stormy look on his face. He quickly looked away. "Yeah, but I think
you just saved me a thousand bucks."
JC was dozing in and out sleep on the couch. Lance was checking his e-mail.
Justin was playing a light game of tug and war with Busta, baring his teeth and
trying to get some sort of reaction out of the small pug dog. Needless to say
the game was pretty much one-sided.
Joey sat at the small kitchen table of the hotel room, playing with the neck of
a beer bottle, and taking small, measured drinks. Chris sat across from him,
his head bent over his plate as he picked at his sandwich, studiously trying
NOT to look at Joey. The whole room was quiet and mellow, these were rare
occasions when the group didn't have to be anywhere or do anything, and they
all seemed content to enjoy the silence together.
Taking another bite of his sandwich, Chris chewed and let his thoughts drift
towards the man that sat in front of him. The past few days had been some of
the most arousing, heated, fun, hard days of his life. He had never fought and
wanted something so much, and he almost didn't want it to end in three days
time. Of course, the operative word was 'almost'. But there was something that
was bothering him, a nagging little voice that wouldn't leave him alone, that
threatened to spoil his fun.
What if Joey's dart had hit someone else? Then it wouldn't be the two of
them playing this little game, it would be Joey and someone else. Lance? JC?
Justin? If Joey's dart had gone a little to the left or right, it wouldn't have
been Chris at all, and the last four days wouldn't have happened. Four of the
most intense, exciting days of his life.
But as he looked up and watched Joey drink his beer, his fingers tapping idly
on the table top, another thought occurred: did it really matter? Chris was not
one to believe in fate or kismet or the Hand of God, but maybe, just
maybe...Joey's dart had hit him for a reason. Maybe this was Meant To Be in big
freaking capital letters. Then again, maybe not. What did Chris want out to
come out of this week? Sex, for sure. But...was there anything else? Did it go deeper?
Swallowing hard a lump of sandwich in his throat, suddenly no longer hungry,
Chris realized that maybe he did. It was lonely on the road, and Joey was a
nice warm body, with a nice warm personality to match.
The question came up again, unbidden, in his mind. What if it hadn't been him?
What if it had been someone else?
At the sound of someone softly clearing his throat, Chris looked up
suspiciously to see Joey staring off in another direction, still drinking his
beer and apparently oblivious. Frowning uncomfortably, feeling the familiar
sensation of dread and anticipation creeping up on him, Chris pushed his chair
a fraction away from the table.
Joey continued to drink and then, inexplicably, he leaned foreword and rested
his head on the table, pressing his cheek against the smooth wood finish and
closing his eyes, beer bottle still in hand.
"Joey?"
He grunted a response.
"You tired?"
Joey sighed and his fingers twitched on the brown glass. "A little bit,
yeah."
The room seemed to let out a yawn at this, and Chris smiled slightly as he
stared down at Joey's brown and red dyed head. He couldn't resist putting out a
hand and running it through the soft, silky strands. He rested his own chin on
the table top as he continued to stroke his hair. Joey's eyes were slowly
drifting shut and Chris stifled a yawn of his own.
At the couch, Lance stretched his arms above his head and let out a jaw
cracking yawn. Closing his lap top with a sigh and rubbing his eyes, he looked
over to see JC slumped over the arm of the couch, his mouth hanging open in
sleep. On the floor, Justin was lying on his back with Busta sitting on his
chest licking at his face.
Lance turned to the kitchen, mouth open to suggest a movie but he immediately
shut it and smiled broadly.
"Hey, Just, take a look at that."
Picking Busta up off his chest, Justin looked over to the kitchen and smiled as
he saw that Joey and Chris had both fallen asleep at the table, Chris' hand
resting against Joey's face. "Aw, ain't they cute? That should be on a
Hallmark card or somethin'."
Lance snickered and then looked back over to JC, picked up a couch cushion, and
whipped it at the sleeping man's head.
"Wha? I'm...what...I'm up, and..." JC muttered mindlessly as he came
awake and glared up at Lance who stood smiling smugly over him. "You woke
me up, ya schmuck!"
"Keep your voice down," Lance chastised. "You'll wake the love
birds." He inclined his head in the direction of the table and JC's frown
turned into a smile at the sight.
"Heh...they make a charming couple, don't they?"
"Yeah, like a normal relationship on Acid. Come on, let's go and leave
them alone." Lance pulled JC to his feet and waited for Justin to gather
Busta up in his arms. "You taking the mutt?"
"I don't want him waking them," Justin said, smiling at the dog and
nuzzling him with his own nose. "Besides, we're getting along now, I want
him to stay with me."
JC chuckled. "First Chris and Joey, now you and Busta...I don't know which
couple is weirder."
"We're cuter," Justin said, lifting Busta up and making a face.
"That's an arguable point."
The three men tiptoed around the kitchen table quietly before walking out the
door, their voices carrying lightly behind them.
"So, who do you think is going to cave first?"
"Joey," JC said without hesitation. "The man has NO will
power."
Lance sniffed. "I say Chris...he's taken enough cold showers this week to
fill an Olympic sized swimming pool."
"You're the deciding vote, Just, who do you think will cave first?"
Justin merely shrugged. "I don't know. Either way the results will be
pretty much the same, won't they?"
Chris came awake with a stiff neck and something warm and scruffy pressing up
against his hand.
"Busta?"
Blinking away the last remains of sleep and pushing himself up into a sitting
position, he grimaced as he felt his back inform him on no uncertain terms he
was NOT to fall asleep like that again. He looked down at his hand and saw that
it was not Busta he was petting, it was a very much asleep Joey.
He smiled and picked up where he left off before by stroking Joey's hair,
causing him to sigh in his sleep. Chris contemplated the possibilities of this
situation: he was awake, Joey wasn't, and he was in desperate need of gaining
the upper hand. Just thinking about the whole ordeal on the couch was leaving
him frustrated.
But Joey looked so...nice. And peaceful. He didn't want to ruin it just yet. It
would be like running a thumb down a painting that had not yet fully dried. So
Chris just sat, as still and quiet as he had ever been.
Chris let his eyes trail over the soft curve of Joey's cheek that showed just
the faintest traces of stubble. He had gone back to shaving again, and the skin
was smooth and pink underneath. His fingers skidded over the cheek, causing it
to twitch a little, and for Joey to purse his lips.
Eyelashes, a little too long and dark for any guy, fluttered and pressed
against his cheekbone, and Chris brushed the back of his finger lightly there,
using only the lightest of feather touches. He sighed heavily, trying to
remember exactly what it was like four days ago when Joey was his buddy and
that was about it. Well, no, that wasn't completely true -- Joey was more than
his 'buddy', Chris didn't know what Joey was. Didn't know what Joey would be
after the week was over.
His hand dropped away, fell back onto the table and Joey opened his eyes.
"Don't stop."
Chris bit his lip. "Joe..."
With a soft sound of frustration, Joey got up and moved to kneel in front of
Chris and held his face in his hands. "I think I'm going nuts, so just
don't say anything for a minute, okay?" At Chris' dull nod, somewhat
restrained by Joey's hands, he leaned in slowly and brushed his lips lightly
against Chris'; melted against him when he felt two tentative hands touch his
waist.
Joey let out soft, mewling whimper, the kind of sound that Busta growled at,
and his head fell forward on the broken, limp hinge of his neck to rest against
Chris' shoulder. When he pulled back, his eyes were deep warm pools that Chris
felt himself sinking into, felt himself getting consumed in.
"Okay, Chris..." Joey's voice, soft, whispered, felt wonderful hushed
against his lips. "I give. Can we have sex now? Please?"
Sorry, what was that? Chris blinked numbly.
"Chris, I want you." Another kiss, this one harder, longer and Chris
felt the heat from his lips spread throughout his entire body. He held Joey
tighter, and their chests pressed roughly together as he twisted in between
Chris' legs. He gasped at the contact and quickly turned his head to kiss Joey's
neck, nipping lightly with his teeth at the jugular and tracing his tongue over
a soft, pink earlobe.
A low, feral sound escaped Joey's throat and Chris was suddenly pulled to his
feet. He felt himself being dragged in the direction of the bedroom. A hand was
at the button of his jeans, tugging it undone and zipping down the fly until
real, blissful contact engulfed him and he thought he would just come right
there, standing nearly fully clothed, with Joey's mouth on his.
Joey was kissing down his throat, pulling up his shirt and lifting it up over
his head and now he could feel light cotton brushing his naked chest. Joey's
mouth continued to travel down his chest, across his stomach, and his fingers
traced small circles on his hips as his jeans dropped to his ankles.
Chris could feel his legs weakening underneath him, he put two shaking hands on
Joey's shoulders who now kneeled before him, as if in prayer, and ran one hand
through the soft hair. "Joey..." it came out as a growl, a moan, an
accumulation of four very long days.
Soft, wet lips kissed his stomach, a tongue darted out to swirl his bellybutton
and then a light bite was placed on his hip, his thigh...
Joey looked up, hair hanging over his face and his eyes dark with too much to
read. He licked his lips slowly and let out a slow breath that Chris felt down
to the bone. "You're gonna wanna lie down."
His world swerved as Joey pushed him back onto the bed, his shoulders and head
buried in soft, white pillows, and then his world exploded when Joey took him
into his mouth, engulfing him wet, hot pleasure.
Chris was pretty sure he screamed, screamed loud enough to be heard all over
the world. Or maybe he didn't have the breath for all that -- suddenly, Chris
wasn't sure of anything. He felt as if he had been narrowed down to one body
part as everything else shut down in resistance to the intense pleasure he was
feeling. His back arched, his hips thrust of their own accord, he was saying
Joey's name over and over again and he wasn't in control of any of it. He felt
as if he were a spectator in his own body.
Lips were incredibly, impossibly soft around his cock, and Joey's tongue
swirled and licked inside his mouth while at the same time he sucked hard
enough that Chris feared he'd be buried in the younger man's throat. And Joey's
hand continued to wander, continued to touch and caress and just trail over
Chris' chest and legs and whatever else was exposed and naked.
He came with a loud cry, his hand gripped hard, too hard, in Joey's hair and
with Joey's hands holding tightly to his hips so he couldn't pull away. Sweat
ran down his face and Chris fell limply back onto the covers, his body humming
with the relief of release.
"God..."
Joey crawled onto the bed, straddled him and kissed him softly, slipping his
tongue deeply into his mouth so he could taste himself on Joey and he groaned,
returning the kiss as much as his body would allow. Words like 'I love you'
floated through his mind but he didn't say them.
"Joe?" His hand slipped between the elastic of Joey's sweat pants and
boxers and he held his breath at the silky warmth it came in contact with. He
stroked him carefully, watching Joey's face closely for reaction. "There's
stuff in the drawer."
Biting his lip and nodding mutely, Joey bent down and kissed him again, a hot,
searing kiss that caused Chris to moan and become half-hard again. As Joey
reached for the bedside table, Chris worked on Joey's pants, pulling them off
with the boxer briefs and throwing them aside. He eyed the broad chest that was
covered by a light blue shirt and quickly started work on the buttons and
didn't stop until he was done and skin was exposed. He ran his hands over the
smooth skin, feeling the heart beat under his palm, and he sucked lightly on a
nipple, working the flesh with his tongue and teeth.
Joey groaned and twisted on top of him his breath coming out in a hard, forced
gust. "Stop, or this'll be over very, very fast, Chris..." Joey
smiled as Chris detached his mouth and leaned in to kiss him softly again. "And
I plan on getting my thousand bucks worth."
A light chuckle and Chris sighed as Joey's weight lifted off him slightly, he
felt the cold loss of the other man abruptly and he ran his hands over Joey's
hips and chest, watching them move with a sort of awed gratefulness over the
beautifully flawed body. He tried to say it again, 'I love you', but the words
still wouldn't leave his mouth, he felt them strangle in his throat.
"Chris, I want..." Joey bit his lip, reached over to turn on the
bedside lamp and the dark room was suddenly bathed in a warm yellow glow.
Joey's face was close to his, their noses nearly touching and he kissed his
cheek lightly in a closed mouthed peck. "Do you understand?" Joey's
voice was soft and mumbled against his ear. "I've felt this way forever,
it's not just some stupid bet, okay? It's always been you."
Voice barely a whisper, Chris managed a soft, "Okay" before Joey
smiled and bent over him again, kissing every part of his face and stroking him
gently with his hand.
With a hiss of arousal, Chris bucked his hips and became dimly aware that Joey
was putting a condom onto him, lubing it liberally with something that was cold
and odourless. And as Joey continued to tease him with grazing, light touches,
Chris let out a low growl and flipped him over so that he was on top with Joey
pinned beneath him.
Spreading his legs, and wrapping them around his own waist, Chris kissed Joey
again before pushing in slowly, willing himself not just mindlessly start
thrusting into the other man. But God, that was so hard when Joey was so tight
and hot and submissive under him. He moaned into Joey's mouth, felt a light
tremble under his hands and Joey pushed his hips up slightly, willing Chris to
continue.
Soon, they were moving together, Chris pushing in and out of Joey harder and
faster as Joey gasped in a shattering combination of pleasure and pain.
"God, please, Chris...don't stop..." The blankets were fisted in
Joey's hands, and Chris kissed him feverishly, willing him to relax a little
more as he stroked and pumped Joey further and further to climax.
As Joey tightened around his cock, his body tensing and his legs cinching hard
around Chris' waist, he pressed his mouth to Joey's neck and sucked hard on the
tender, vulnerable flesh.
"Joe..." He barely got the name out, his voice hoarse and his breath
stolen, but as he came and felt Joey following close behind, the world seemed
to both collapse and stop around them, holding still for that single, perfect
moment.
Chris fell on top of him, spent and sated. He kissed weakly soft, wet cheeks
and rolled gently onto his side, pulling Joey against him. He watched the
gentle rise and fall of the chest, and laid his hand on top of it. With his
other hand he grabbed Joey's and brought it to his lips, planted soft,
butterfly kisses.
The words came easily, ringing with truth. "I love you."
Joey's face beamed and he rested his head against Chris' shoulder, but said
nothing. Chris smiled and kissed his bicep. "Would it make you feel cheap
if I asked for that grand, now?"
They were sitting in another dressing room, another
show had ended, and Chris held the darts in his hand, basking in the attention
that Joey was giving him. He weighed the plastic and steel, let the silver tip
catch the light before throwing it like an arrow towards the perfect, round
target.
It didn't hit bullseye, but it was pretty damn close and Joey applauded from
his seat. Chris turned to look at him, took in the lean body with the long limb
thrown over the chair's bulky arm.
"Aren't you gonna play, dude?"
Joey just shook his head and continued to smile. "No thanks, I'd rather
watch."
Another dart flew and this time landed a little off to the right of the first
one. With the light thunk of impact, Chris frowned and stared down at his hand
where the last dart remained. It had been nearly a week since that whole
business with their bet, and still the same question nagged at him and
irritated him. It was like a cold black brushstroke through the relationship.
If what they had could even be considered a relationship.
Sensing the other man's discomfort, Joey tilted his head to the side.
"What's wrong, Chris?"
"I - it's nothing. Nothing that I should be bugging about."
He gave another easy, Joey-esque smile. "Tell me anyway."
The dart twirled in his hand, Chris rolled it between his fingers, and he had
to use all his strength to lift his head up to meet Joey's eyes. He held up the
dart. "Say you hadn't hit me, say it had been Lance or Justin or JC. Then
we wouldn't be here together, and that week never would of happened."
Joey frowned. "Chris..."
"Look, I know I'm being an idiot, it doesn't matter how it
happened, just that it happened, but..."
"Chris, shut up for a moment, huh?" Joey got to his feet and squeezed
Chris' shoulder through his leather jacket. "You lied to me."
"What?" Chris tried to jerk out of Joey's grip but he couldn't
break free and he glared at the younger man with angry eyes. "I did
not!"
"Yes, you did," Joey said softly. "That night I asked you if you
understood. If you understood that it had always been you, and you said
'yes'."
"I - " Chris shut his mouth for a moment, tried to slow his racing
thoughts. "You said it was always me, but that's not true, Joe. It was
only me because of some silly random shot."
Joey was silent for a moment, looking down at Chris with what seemed like a
distant sort of amusement and disapproval. He took the dart from Chris' hand,
turned to face the dartboard mounted on the wall and lifted his hand. Made a
great show of covering his eyes.
The dart flew.
Bullseye.
Turning his head, Joey smiled. "Christopher, you should of noticed...I
aimed BEFORE you blindfolded me."
Speechless, Chris could only stare from Joey to the board open mouthed and
stupefied. "You - you've been letting me win?!" he said out
loud but inwardly he kept thinking: He wanted it to be me. He aimed for me. It
was meant to be me. It was always me.
Joey shrugged easily, pulled Chris into his arms and kissed him gently,
probingly on the mouth. "Does it matter?" He rubbed his cheek against
Chris' and sighed happily against his neck. "And in case you are totally
dense...I love you, too."
Chris smiled, kissed him back. "I can still kick your ass at air hockey,
though."
A sly smile and Joey let his hands drift. "Really? Wanna bet?"
The End
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