AC!JC
Justin finally realizes what, exactly, hurt JC when he went on tour. It’s the fact that there’s a big gaping part of his life missing. And sure, that sounds cheesy and sappy and mushy as hell, but it’s like his muse is gone, and when he hears his own feet padding through the house, he swears they aren’t his own and turns around, looking for JC to jump out of nowhere.
But when he does jump out from nowhere, he looks tired, worn down. His eyes and wrists are red as if he’s been abused and crying. JC’s got an earring in his ear, one of those little stop gaps that forces his skin to grotesquely displace around it. He winces when Justin runs his thumb over it.
“It hurt like a bitch,” JC smiles. “Looks cool, though. I dunno, I just closed my eyes, held my breath, and just kinda let it hit me.”
“Really?” Justin asks. “It looks like it hurts more than that.”
“Yeah, but it was like…like being caned. It was a good kinda hurt, y’know? A one-time hurt, but a good one-time hurt,” JC shrugged.
“Right,” Justin nods. Soon, JC’s spread out on the bed, Justin peeling back the layers off of his chest, peeling the sweater away, peeling the black t-shirt off, pulling his pants, pulling off everything he could, until JC’s naked and unadorned, his body painted in black markers, tightly written words in permanent marker, stick drawings and sayings adorned on JC’s back, slightly faded into the skin.
There’s something mystical about it, even as JC smiles and slides his fishnet mesh shirt back around his arms, back through his shoulders. Justin smiles at him, because JC looks like some kind of deity, sent to earth from the gods themselves, all he needs is a good pair of black wings.
JC just stands there, shoulders back, body at attention, as if he’s presenting himself for evaluation.
Justin wonders why he’s so intrigued, why he sits back and watches this, why he changed his mind about this whole new personality that suits JC’s novel sound. Why did he submit to JC’s needs?
His lips crash into JC’s, and the answers are all there, they’re all in this loving body. The keys to his patients are inside the contact his hands have as they wrap around JC’s slim waist. It doesn’t matter that JC’s a distant mirror, an evolution from his earlier form. It doesn’t matter that JC’s body whips around in a different way, now. None of it matters.
“So, when’s the next tour?” Justin asks, quietly against JC’s lips.
“Not for a while. I want me time. I mean, I’ve got too much on my plate, when all I really want to eat is you.”
“So fucking romantic,” Justin smiles, and re-examines those questions. Perhaps he’s here because JC’s so loyal, so safe. Perhaps he really just wants to be with JC. Perhaps it’s because JC just sits there so easily, so serene, and looks at the world with a pair of impassive eyes as he examines his own life. Justin doesn’t quite know.
Either way, JC spreads out over Justin so easily, making dirty jokes as he kisses Justin slow and strokes him with a lazy hand, just enough so that he can hear Justin’s breathing speed up. And he’s crooning softly in Justin’s ear, licking his lips, pressing wet kisses to Justin’s neck. And soon, he’s thrown Justin down again and crawled up to him, laughing easily as he brings the sheets over them. And soon, both of them under the covers, JC slides backwards onto Justin’s cock, and rides him slowly, growling as Justin hits that one spot, lowly.
It looks like a set up for a music video, the way that JC looks perfect and the sun shines through the sheets, mummifying both of them in light. The way that JC’s arms are wrapped delicately in whorish mesh, the way that his eyes are thinly lined today, the way that his hair is in perfect ringlets and the words on his body perfectly curve around his nipples delicately.
When JC comes, he kisses Justin hard, shakes silently, collapses on his body.
“Use me until you’re satisfied,” he whispers, turning so that Justin’s on top of him.
JC sighs and shivers. He lays out on the bed like a helpless animal, ready for Justin’s consumption, ready to be devoured. And as Justin loves him, long and slow so that he can growl all over again, JC whispers his thanks and shivers.
Justin explodes looking into his eyes.
Lying in bed isn’t JC’s style. JC’s style is a warm shower together, and sitting around comfortably silent, tuning a guitar or reading a book or fixing a camera. JC’s style is going to the movies, going on a date after getting thoroughly fucked.
And that makes Justin think, too. Is that it? Is it all because JC marches, dances, gyrates to the beat of his own drummer? Is it because he defies the concept of ‘man’? Is it because JC’s this strange trip into the metaphysical, and when you can fuck the metaphysical, you can fuck anything?
“Well, no,” JC shakes his head. “Of course you can’t.”
Justin shakes his head, and closes his eyes for a relaxing minute. “What are we talking about, again?”
“I want to go on a vacation to Japan,” JC says. “I want to go with you. Just us. Middle of nowhere. A month or two just off the radar. We’ll start from scratch, pick up some Japanese, get a house near a lake, simple.”
“Right,” Justin nods, “and what were you saying no to?”
“You okay, man?” JC asks, strumming his guitar. He’s playing some john Mayer song, something he knows by ear, not by heart, but can finger out enough of it to make it still sound okay.
Justin pauses. He wonders the same question himself for a while, and then nods. “Yeah.”
JC looks at him wearily.
“I want to get away from here,” JC sighs.
“Understandable,” Justin shrugs.
“I want to go out to the middle of nowhere with you and just live for a minute. Not farm, or do anything like that. Just…” JC’s voice fades away.
“Chill?” Justin answers. JC looks up at him and nods. He smiles, quietly.
“You know, I’ve always had this sick and twisted fantasy about you,” JC begins.
“Oh?” Justin asks.
“I want to stalk you. Just once,” JC announces, proud of himself.
“Really?” Justin starts.
“Oh, yes. Follow you around for a day, hide in corners watching you, knowing your every move, and when I thought it would be safe, I’d corner you, restrain you, make you struggle just for fun and then look at you for so long before I’d just fuck you. It would be such a mindfuck.” JC says, putting the guitar down and crawling close.
Justin gives him a quick peck on the lips, and a caring caress down his arms. “You’re beginning to freak me out.”
“Oh, come on,” JC smiles. “You’re telling me you never wanted to just languish in a shadow before jumping out and claiming something, dragging it back to the shadows for yourself?”
“No,” Justin says.
“Bullshit,” JC grins.
Justin looks at him a bit, and then looks away with a dry grin. “Yeah. So how do you want to do it.”
“I take one night, you take one,” JC smiles. “You know how to stalk, don’t you, Justin.”
“Shut up,” Justin groans. “How far are you going to go?”
“All the way?” JC asks.
“All the way,” Justin nods. ”Be as forceful as you want with me.”
“Okay,” JC smiles, leaning over and fitting his lips over Justin’s in a sweet smile that denotes that yes, he’s getting his way.
When Justin wakes up the next morning, JC’s gone. Justin fumbles through the house, and now he doesn’t really know if there’s someone behind him. He calls JC’s cell phone.
“Hello?” Justin asks.
“Yes, Justin?” JC asks back.
“Where are you?” Justin asks.
“At starbucks, on fifth,” JC says, simply. “I’m in the car, about to drive over to the studio.”
“Oh, okay.” Justin nods.
“Is anything wrong?” JC asks.
Justin hangs up.
For the rest of the day, Justin breathes easy, he lounges around, watching movies, making phone calls, singing to himself and reading scripts. He makes himself lunch, and when the time comes he makes himself dinner, eating slowly as he watches the sun set in the windows.
And then the game starts. It just…starts.
The lights won’t turn on in the bedroom, but the light outside is enough to illuminate the room. Justin looks around the room, pawing into the corners where the lights are to try and turn them on himself, and the phone rings.
Soon, JC’s voice is over the phone. “I’m sorry, Justin, but I’m gonna be home late, babe. You know how it is.”
“Of course I do,” Justin smiles.
“I love you,” JC whispers, before hanging up, and when Justin puts the receiver down, he gets slammed into the wall.
“Who…” Justin begins, but he’s pulled backward and then shoved into another wall. He’s thrown to the floor, something wrapping around his eyes, Justin wiggles and uses his hands, putting up a fight, using his body to kick and shove his captor off. And soon, there’s cool lubed fingers sinking into him and his mouth is being pulled open wide so that a ball gag can be pushed in, and his knees are forced apart, pinned down with other knees.
Justin wriggles, around on the floor, and moans as he gets fingerfucked before the buckle is locked and he’s left alone, cold and open and spread out on hands and knees on the floor. His body heaves, as he lies down and undoes the blindfold.
But as soon as he does, the hands come back, smashing his head downward and tying it up again.
“You keep that on this time, eh?” Justin hears him say, “Just do what I say and this will be all over.”
Justin can feel a cold tongue sloshing over his broken lips, stretched around the ball. He groans. He can feel fingers undoing his shirt, undoing his pants, he’s naked on the floor when the invasion happens, He cries out through the gag while his hips are forced backward.
“Always wondered what you would be like if I fucked you.” The cock’s moving inside of him now, barely giving him time to actually start adjusting. “Nice and tight, Just like I thought.”
He gets it so hard that he curls his toes inward, trying to spread the pain to his whole body.
“And to think, you didn’t even realize I was here. Not while you were sleeping, not while you were eating, not while you were walking around in the house while you were naked, not while anything,” Cock says. “Hell, it’s like you were willing.”
Well, that’s just blowing smoke up Justin’s ass, because he was willing. He still is willing. It’s JC above him, the voice, the hands, the lips, the cock all tell him so. He’s not afraid of what will happen when his hands are down in the small of his back and he can’t see or talk. It doesn’t matter much to him.
Justin gets more comfortable on the floor as JC takes him sideways with long, curling strokes that make Justin cry out through the gag. “I know how to please you just right, too. Been sitting here, seeing you do it your fucking self for too long. I’m glad I meet your body’s approval.”
Getting Justin off is a two-step process, mainly because JC is too much into character to actually get Justin off with a good hard fucking alone. Instead, it’s dirty talk and light stroking melding together and then stopping right when Justin gets tight. Just to make him feel it. That little bastard.
This is the reason, Justin thinks, this is the reason why he stays with JC. It’s the idea that JC can be this flexible, can get into such a character with little to no remorse over it. It’s the fact that JC’s out of the box, so to speak, or slightly left of center. It’s the fact that here in the middle of a stalker fantasy, JC’s still taking care of Justin as much as Justin is taking care of JC.
When Justin finally comes, it’s purely magic.
He doesn’t see the smile of relief on JC’s face.