More AC!JC
“You’re a hypocrite, JC.” Justin says, looking down at himself, and then up at the speakerphone. “What about Eva, huh?”
“What about her?” JC asks. “At least I gave you the common courtesy of meeting my girlfriend, and she loves you and wants to work up the courage to ask you to…”
“And the groupies? On the road?” Justin asks.
“You’ve had the pleasure of meeting my hand, Justin. Stop trying to wriggle your way out of this,” JC hisses.
“Oh, fuck you.” Justin sighs.
JC grins, “You wish you could, don’t you?”
“I’m not going to even dignify that question with a response,” Justin sighs.
“You just did,” JC says. Justin pouts and runs a finger over the bag. “Stop playing with it, Justin. It’s not going to wriggle off. I’m sure you can feel the lock on the bottom.”
“And what about this nice little cut, here?” Justin asks.
“I’m surprised you slept through that. Really surprised. I thought I was gonna have to make a run for it and hide. But no, you just laid there and…took it. I don’t know if I should be surprised or impressed.” JC grins. “Eva should have been there to see it, you just laying there, breathing lightly, your skin splitting open for me. It…it was powerful, I’ll tell you that.”
“I’m glad I got you off, JC,” Justin says.
“I think you should be. Because the only person who has the key to that lock on your cock is me. And you’re gonna have to beg and seduce and beg and seduce until you figure out how to get that key back. I’m gonna make it hard for you, too.”
“You’re an ass, JC,” Justin growls.
“Oh, but you never told me, how was she? Was it worth it? Did she really get you hot, or were you just pretending again, Justin? Tell me, baby. How did she feel inside? Was she beautiful?” JC asks.
“JC, I’m gonna hang up.”
“Well, Justin. I can always call back. Or, even better, I can just drop by. How would you possibly get rid of me then, Justin?” JC says.
“Smartass,” Justin mutters.
“Yeah, I know,” JC grins. “you still haven’t answered my question, was she good enough to be worth it?”
Justin sits there, thinking about it. He can only remember a little bit of it, panes of feeling and senses. The word comes tumbling out of Justin’s mouth.
“No.”
Before Justin can get done with the word, the phone is dead.
Justin walks around the house for the rest of the day. He reads a few scripts, decides to inform Johnny to try and get an appointment for a script reading or two, trying to take his mind off what has just happened.
Days pass quickly. It’s embarrassing, when Justin thinks about it, really. It’s embarrassing because now, when he sees JC’s videos on MTV, or hears JC’s songs on the radio, Justin feels like he’s betrayed him, done the one thing he didn’t want to do. And he feels as if it’s worth being mad about.
That night, he gets a phone call from JC, in midday. It’s one person phone sex, JC’s moaning and groaning and calling out Justin’s name.
“Yes, Mmm, yes, Oh god, Justin. Oh,” JC’s voice is calling out over the phone. He’s making all of the sounds Justin thought JC only made for him.
“Mmm, so good.”
Justin knows this, and he knows if it’s a routine, it certainly is a good routine, because JC can get very worked up and vocal, if nothing else. He can feel the bite of the chastity bag around his cock as it starts to go from hard to rock solid, and moans on the other side of the bag.
JC’s screaming now, crying out and close to orgasm, and when he’s there, Justin’s screaming with him. There’s only one difference, and Justin knows it as much as JC knows it.
For JC’s screams are ones in relief, and Justin’s screams are ones in frustration.
JC doesn’t even catch his breath before he hangs up. Justin looks at the phone and lays down on the couch, trying to think of anything, of everything that will turn him off. He thinks of JC there, shaving the place between his legs. He thinks of run over puppies and dead motorcyclists who had their brains spread across the pavement. He thinks about the first time he got kicked in the nuts. He thinks about Kentucky fried kittens and things that send shivers up his spine because they’re just so revolting.
It doesn’t help.
It doesn’t help because Justin keeps thinking of JC inbetween, like little half-frame shots of JC’s face. Justin grins, easily, before he gets the idea he needs. He’ll wait a few days, just to see if JC’s showed his whole hand. Then, it gets physical.
But JC gets physical before he does, because the next afternoon, JC comes over with pizza and Heineken and movies and they shoot the shit for hours. And Justin knows by that look in JC’s eye that he did not bring the key.
The night goes fine for the most part, they eat and drink and laugh together and it’s all completely platonic, until JC disappears into the bathroom. The credits are rolling, and Justin’s ready and waiting to put the next movie in, but JC’s still gone, and Justin walks to the bathroom and can hear the sound of JC in the bathroom.
“Oh, god Justin, mmm, like that. Like that. Oh. You’re so tight, mm. Yes,” JC cries out.
Justin sits on the couch easily, and before he knows it, JC slithers back into the room, flopping on his side of the couch.
He slouches over the arm, flush on his cheeks, smirk of satisfaction on his face. Justin can see the little twitches running through JC’s body, seconds of blind pleasure washing over the body so close to his own.
And even before the movie gets through the first credits, Justin isn’t paying attention at all. His heart is beating and he’s making himself hard and oh god he can feel the bite of consequence. Right fucking now.
He wants the gloves off, right fucking now.
JC’s doing a promotional party down in LA, three days later.
JC’s persona prevents him from doing top forty club shows. Instead, he goes and holds shows in industrial clubs, Goth clubs, hallowed out factories with historic halls and ghosts floating around.
Eva shows up at Justin’s door with a pair of tickets and a pinstriped outfit that shows off long legs and stiletto heels.
“You wanna get in?” she asks with a cheeky smile.
She has an outfit all picked out in her mind, and assembles it quickly in Justin’s presence. She smiles, easily, as he slips the leather pants and they sling them around his hips. Justin smiles as he slips the tight mesh over his head.
“So, where’s JC?” Justin asks, checking his watch.
“Oh, he’s in the trunk,” Eva laughs. For a minute, Justin thinks she’s joking. And then he thinks she’s not. And then she thinks she is, again. JC probably told her to fuck with him a bit.
“So, how’s that chastity bag working for ya?” Eva asks, without reservation. The red on Justin’s face outshines his blush.
“How did you know?” Justin asks, bashfully as he slides into the passenger seat of Eva’s car.
“Who do you think gave him that idea to begin with?” Eva laughs. “I did that to him, once. Left him hanging for days until he groveled. Justin, I swear to you. When you get that kiss of orgasm at the end, you’ll love it. You’ll feel it for days. You’ll be so happy you did.”
“What?” Justin asks.
“Just…trust me on this,” Eva smiles. “Seduce him tonight. He’ll be looking for you, and boy, do you look good. Use it, honey. He’ll love it.”
“You sure?” Justin asks.
“If he doesn’t, well, then, I’ll just have to take you home with me, because I sure as hell do,” She grins.
Fervor is in the middle of the LA industrial district, in a side town. It looks like a vampire coven from the front, steel doors with no line outside. When he walks inside, there’s more steel, and he feels like he’s in the middle of some kind of strange mindfuck.
The actual club is huge, and looks like it’s a makeshift club made out of a car factory. Justin sighs, and stands up against the wall, seducing random people who have found no semblance to his on-screen persona.
Justin talks lazily, moves his hips seductively, calls out in the audience like a siren against the speaker, dressed in mesh and leather and black, black, black. His skin looks pale amidst it all. It doesn’t matter. He looks and waits for JC to take the stage. It seems like he stands up against the wall for hours, calling out like a siren waiting for a god to come.
The club has long grown restless, packed to the gills before JC’s smooth voice oozes through the speakers.
“Come on, maggots, you wanna live forever?”
Justin grins, as the crowd goes wild and the sound blasts out through the speakers, making every head turn tying everybody down and lashing them with discord. JC gets on that stage and makes the house shatter apart.
Before it’s over, Justin feels himself not only drawn in, but almost without control. He walks through the crowd, swaying his hips to the music and finding his way into JC’s dressing room. He can hear JC go into his second encore, the crowd roar and the barking of JC’s chanting.
JC bursts through the room ten minutes later, Justin is over near a corner, standing on the wall. JC charges through the room, chugging a bottle of water before plopping down on the couch and laying out, catching his breath.
“Hey, Justin,” He addresses, easily.
“I want it off,” Justin says, forcefully.
“Well, I thought you would, obviously,” JC snips, turning over so he could see Justin. “Uh, wow.”
“Do you like me, JC? Do I look the part?” Justin asks.
JC gets up to his feet, Eyes wide and appraising. “I think you do. Eva do that to you?”
“She helped a little bit,” Justin whispers. He stands there, licking glossy lips. JC angles his head, a little. His eyes strain in the dim light against the black curtains put up.
“She wants you, you know,” JC nods.
“Is she alone in that want?” Justin asks.
JC smiles lightly at Justin, walking up to him, licking his lips, craning his neck to fill in every piece of Justin's form as it leans against the wall.
"You want it," Justin murmurs, longingly.
"Do I?" JC asks, slipping his thumb, French tip and all, into his mouth. He crowds into Justin's space, hot breath on Justin's neck. He reaches out to caress Justin's face, smear Justin's eyeliner, bring Justin's head closer so that he may find access to those lips. There is nothing there that isn't out of order, Justin knew how to clean up.
And there's something so determined in JC's kisses, in the hot slide of tongue against tongue. Soon, JC's thumbs are placed over Justin's eyes, and JC's mouth sinks lower to Justin's neck.
Justin moans, long and sweet. And he smiles, gently, while doing so because he can't think of himself not giving himself to JC, or something like that. JC starts kissing and licking Justin's Adams apple, hard, biting gently, and then harder, and harder again.
He presses Justin against the wall and keeps him there with a swift knee to the crotch, while he wrenches Justin's head back, pressing the pads of his thumbs into Justin's closed eye sockets. He laves at Justin's neck again.
"If I didn't have self control, Justin, I wouldn't think twice about killing you. You think you could repent for your sins, if I killed you, Justin?" JC asks, voice calm and silky smooth.
Justin can't bring himself to answer. He mewls instead.
“So beautiful. So vulnerable,” He whispers, lowly. “How long has it been since you came last?”
“I..I don’t know,” Justin says in struggle.
“Don’t lie to me,” JC warns. “One turn of a key the wrong way is good enough to make your penis detachable. That girl you fucked. She was pretty, yes?”
JC rubs his thigh against Justin, making him moan.
“Yes,” Justin murmurs.
“what was that?” JC asks.
“Yes!” Justin says, emphatically.
“how pretty was she, was she prettier than me?” JC asks.
“How petty of you, JC,” Justin murmurs.
JC’s hands move away from Justin’s neck. One hand closes around Justin’s throat, the other burrows inside Justin’s pants, cocksure fingers reaching down to the place Justin needs them the most.
“How petty of me to think you would have cared,” JC groans. “How petty of me to think you wanted me.”
“I want you, JC,” Justin says. “You’re so much prettier than she was, baby.”
“You’re mine, Justin,” JC hisses, hands clutching around Justin’s throat and Justin’s cock. “Don’t bother trying to understand it, or doing something about it. I’m going to take you home and use my property. You can’t stop me.”
“Fuck you,” Justin says.
“How long do you think you can go without that orgasm, Justin?” JC asks. “how long do you really you can take of that bag, hmm?”
“I…I don’t know,” Justin whispers.
“Well, guess what, Justin. Guess where the key is.”
“Where?”
“In a place you’ll never, ever get to find. If you want to get out of that little device, then you’re going to have to work for it. Unless, unless you want to go all the way right now”
Justin smiles. “You willing to unlock it now?”
“Oh, no, Justin,” JC shakes his head. “I know the range of my power, and I know I can make you come through this, baby.”
“So cocksure,” Justin whispers.
“I bet I can even do it with words, too,” JC hisses, walking backward.
“JC. Get over yourself.” Justin whispers.
JC turns, walks to a chair in order to sit down. “Imagine something, for me, Justin. You’re sitting in the living room, Justin. Had the best dinner you’ve ever had. You feel safe, full, sated because of that flavor, that heat. And, Justin, You lay back in the leather of your sofa. It’s getting late, now. It’s two in the morning, maybe three. You’re switching channels, you stop at a movie, where there are two women on the floor, writhing against each other, kissing and licking each other’s bodies, fitting effortlessly into the warmest, most poetic sixty-nine you’ve ever seen. You feel tired, you fall asleep on that couch. Deep, deep sleep, Justin. Sleep that penetrates your skin, slides up and down your bones. It’s dark in your dreams, you can’t see, you can’t talk, you can’t hear, you can’t smell. But there are hands. There are hands all over, touching you. Something’s gripping on your legs, and you’ve still got that best taste in your mouth. You moan, turning away, trying to leave the touch. It comes with you. It arouses you, stimulates you. Makes your spine tingle and your headache and your body flood with absolute pleasure. Can you feel it, Justin? Can you feel it all down your body. It’ll sit in the pit of your stomach and make you moan, and spread all the way out so that you can feel lips on your dick and a cock so big that it’s almost painful in your ass. And the hands are still caressing you.”
“What’s the point of this?” Justin asks.
“If you try, really, really hard, then you can almost hear their voices as they continue to try to tear you apart. And you come so hard that you curl your toes while the feeling comes up along your spine. You’ll still be hard when you wake up, a hard-on that you can’t get rid of, and all you need is a head between your legs, sucking you off. Don’t you want that, Justin? Don’t you want that feeling?” JC asks.
“what are you getting at, here?”
“Imagine that head between your legs, Justin. Imagine me there. Imagine me opening your legs and sucking you down,” JC smiles. “Imagine me sitting there, between your legs, tongue-bathing your cock, slipping my tongue inside you. Wrapping my mouth around your cock. And we keep going, we keep going. You fuck my mouth. My mouth fucks you. It’s an ongoing cycle but you don’t come. And then, and then you just find that way to unblock yourself, and you grab onto my head, and you grab onto my hands and you sit there and come. You keep coming. It goes all down your body. Can you feel it?”
“No.” Justin shakes out.
“I can feel them, All over me. Oh…” JC whispers. His hand slides down into his crotch. He groans appreciatively. His hips buck into his hand, he rubs gently, seductively. He’s down on his knees, and he slides from the chair. He crawls with an unsure pace, as if he’s being pulled to Justin on a leash, moving like a cat, stroking himself, holding his breath as he looks up at Justin.
Justin watches him, as he stands on the wall. Justin watches as JC scoots closer to him, working just a little closer.
“Don’t you want that, Justin?” JC calls out. “Don’t you want to feel that, baby?”
“Get away from me,” Justin whispers.
“Don’t act guilty about it, baby,” JC croons, sitting down on his calves next to Justin, grinding his face into Justin’s crotch.
Justin takes JC’s hair into his hands, and winces when he can hear JC’s teeth unzip his pants and feel his tongue inside.
He’s caught red-handed.
JC beams. “Yeah, thought so.”