Practice, Practice, Practice (1/1)
This is for Dacey, who got me to write it, and who's feeling crappy lately. And for whom there may be a sequel. *cough*
Practice, Practice, Practice
Justin hated math.
It wasn't that he wasn't good at it, because he was. Ok, not good, but he didn't totally suck, either. He just - hated it. Especially proofs.
"We're going to be famous," he muttered, staring up at the ceiling. It looked different, somehow, when he was wearing his glasses. "I don't see what proving for x has to do with winning a Grammy."
"It's math, Justin," JC said patiently, looking up from his journal. "Even famous people need to know math."
"I'll get an accountant."
"Who might rip you off. Try again."
Justin heaved a sigh and turned to look at JC. "Fine. But why do I need to learn *proofs*?"
"Because if you don't you'll flunk math."
Justin rolled his eyes and started back up at the ceiling.
JC put his journal down and scooted over to where Justin was sprawled. "Let me see," he said, resting his head on Justin's shoulder. His chin was a little bony.
Justin tilted his head and took a deep breath. JC smelled like shampoo and hotel soap. It shouldn't have been as arousing as it was. Kind of like JC's hair, actually. It was a lot easier to pull on while they were making out when it was longer.
"Ok, this isn't so bad," JC said, tapping the pencil against the book. "You've got one problem left."
"But I'm *bored*," Justin whined.
JC shot him a look. "It's one problem, Justin. It's not even that hard. Look. After you solve for x and y, you plot them on the graph and you're done."
"Ok, you're really not listening here," Justin said. "*Bored*, C. So bored."
"Justin," JC said, and Justin could practically hear him rubbing his forehead, "it's one problem, ok? *One*. And then you're done, and you can send it off to Chuck, and he won't fly to Europe and kill you, which would really suck because I don't want to be the only tenor. Also, I don't make out with dead guys."
"Mmmn. That would suck," Justin said absently, pushing back to sit in JC's lap. It was late, and JC was only wearing very thin sweatpants. He wasn't hard, not yet, but his cock was a solid presence against the small of his back.
JC wrapped his arms around Justin's waist and sighed. "Justin. One problem. One more, and I swear -"
He stopped. Justin tried to turn around to look at him, but JC didn't move, and it was stop or slam into JC's chin. He settled for asking, "Jayce, what's -"
"Finish the problem," JC said quietly, and let a hand drift down to pop open Justin's fly. It burrowed inside, slipping around and taking hold of Justin's cock.
Justin gasped and tried to turn around.
"Nuh-uh." JC nudged Justin's head forward with his own and kept stroking. "What's the variable, Justin?"
"The v-variable...is...ohhhh." Justin let his head fall back against the seat.
JC pulled his hand away. Justin sat up fast, whimpering.
"Finish the problem," JC murmured, his hand circling Justin's cock again, "and I'll finish *you*."
Justin spread his legs a little wider, mentally cursed his fly, and picked up his pencil.
One problem. One. He could do this. He could. He -
oh fuck that was JC's hand on his cock, no pants in the way, just skin on skin. He bit his lower lip and tried to think.
JC just watched him with dark eyes and rubbed his thumb over the head, spreading the wetness around.
"...a-and 7 times 5 is 35, which completes the equation. X is." Justin arched up hard, panting. Fuck, just a little more pressure and he could -
"Solve for x," JC growled, and bit his earlobe.
"X is. X. fuck, you've really got a thing for math, don't you?" He shouldn't tease, he shouldn't, but JC was *growling*. JC didn't growl when he was the one *getting* a handjob, let alone giving one.
"Finish the problem," JC growled again, and shifted against Justin.
Oh. Ohhhh. "Oh, Mr. Chasez," Justin said, grinning. He wriggled against JC, the older boy's cock a warm pressure against his lower back. "You like this, don't you? Perv," he teased, and tried to wiggle so his jeans were riding lower.
"*Finish* the *problem*," JC snarled, "or I swear to *God*, Justin, I will leave you alone for a week. No hand-holding, no patting your ass during basketball, and no volunteering to get you up in the morning."
Oh, that was bad. That was very, very bad. Getting up was the best part of Justin's day, besides performing and the rare occasions the guys left him and JC alone. Like now.
"What. oh God. what if I take the SATs?" Justin asked, spreading his legs a little wider. His cock felt so full. This was a thousand times better than doing it to himself.
"Depends what your score is," JC muttered, wrapping his legs around Justin's to hold him still. "Anything under 1100, and you're retaking them."
"But. ohh. if I break 1300, you'll fuck me?" Justin gasped. He leaned his head back and bit at JC's collarbone.
"You break 1300," JC murmured, reaching up his other hand and toying with a nipple, "and I'll let you *top*."
Oh God. He'd. he'd let him. buried in that sweet, tight ass, moaning and pleading, making him scream into the mattress, fuck, fuck, he wanted it *now*...
Justin let out a loud, hissing breath through his teeth and came hard. JC stroked him through it, murmuring very softly against Justin's skin.
"You," he said finally, when he could speak again, "are the best tutor *ever*." He still sounded kind of hoarse. He hoped he sounded okay tomorrow; they had a show.
"That's not an answer," JC said, licking the back of Justin's neck.
Justin wriggled and resisted the urge to fall asleep. JC would be really pissed if he did. "X is five," he said, and yawned. "Happy now, Mr. Chasez?"
"Justin." It sounded like JC was blushing. Justin craned his neck around - yeah, he was.
"Baby, what's - ohhh." Justin maneuvered so he was facing JC and wrapped his arms around his neck, grinning. It didn't even matter that his jeans were all sticky now. "You have a kink," he sang softly, teasing.
"Justin -" Still blushing. God, this was great.
"Now I want to get up early one morning so when you come to wake me up, I'll be sitting on the bed, wearing my boxers and my glasses and nothing else, writing a history essay." Justin licked his neck. "That get you hot, C?"
"This was such a bad idea," JC muttered, but tilted his head back to give Justin better access.
Justin just grinned and kissed him.
Practice, Practice, Practice
Justin hated math.
It wasn't that he wasn't good at it, because he was. Ok, not good, but he didn't totally suck, either. He just - hated it. Especially proofs.
"We're going to be famous," he muttered, staring up at the ceiling. It looked different, somehow, when he was wearing his glasses. "I don't see what proving for x has to do with winning a Grammy."
"It's math, Justin," JC said patiently, looking up from his journal. "Even famous people need to know math."
"I'll get an accountant."
"Who might rip you off. Try again."
Justin heaved a sigh and turned to look at JC. "Fine. But why do I need to learn *proofs*?"
"Because if you don't you'll flunk math."
Justin rolled his eyes and started back up at the ceiling.
JC put his journal down and scooted over to where Justin was sprawled. "Let me see," he said, resting his head on Justin's shoulder. His chin was a little bony.
Justin tilted his head and took a deep breath. JC smelled like shampoo and hotel soap. It shouldn't have been as arousing as it was. Kind of like JC's hair, actually. It was a lot easier to pull on while they were making out when it was longer.
"Ok, this isn't so bad," JC said, tapping the pencil against the book. "You've got one problem left."
"But I'm *bored*," Justin whined.
JC shot him a look. "It's one problem, Justin. It's not even that hard. Look. After you solve for x and y, you plot them on the graph and you're done."
"Ok, you're really not listening here," Justin said. "*Bored*, C. So bored."
"Justin," JC said, and Justin could practically hear him rubbing his forehead, "it's one problem, ok? *One*. And then you're done, and you can send it off to Chuck, and he won't fly to Europe and kill you, which would really suck because I don't want to be the only tenor. Also, I don't make out with dead guys."
"Mmmn. That would suck," Justin said absently, pushing back to sit in JC's lap. It was late, and JC was only wearing very thin sweatpants. He wasn't hard, not yet, but his cock was a solid presence against the small of his back.
JC wrapped his arms around Justin's waist and sighed. "Justin. One problem. One more, and I swear -"
He stopped. Justin tried to turn around to look at him, but JC didn't move, and it was stop or slam into JC's chin. He settled for asking, "Jayce, what's -"
"Finish the problem," JC said quietly, and let a hand drift down to pop open Justin's fly. It burrowed inside, slipping around and taking hold of Justin's cock.
Justin gasped and tried to turn around.
"Nuh-uh." JC nudged Justin's head forward with his own and kept stroking. "What's the variable, Justin?"
"The v-variable...is...ohhhh." Justin let his head fall back against the seat.
JC pulled his hand away. Justin sat up fast, whimpering.
"Finish the problem," JC murmured, his hand circling Justin's cock again, "and I'll finish *you*."
Justin spread his legs a little wider, mentally cursed his fly, and picked up his pencil.
One problem. One. He could do this. He could. He -
oh fuck that was JC's hand on his cock, no pants in the way, just skin on skin. He bit his lower lip and tried to think.
JC just watched him with dark eyes and rubbed his thumb over the head, spreading the wetness around.
"...a-and 7 times 5 is 35, which completes the equation. X is." Justin arched up hard, panting. Fuck, just a little more pressure and he could -
"Solve for x," JC growled, and bit his earlobe.
"X is. X. fuck, you've really got a thing for math, don't you?" He shouldn't tease, he shouldn't, but JC was *growling*. JC didn't growl when he was the one *getting* a handjob, let alone giving one.
"Finish the problem," JC growled again, and shifted against Justin.
Oh. Ohhhh. "Oh, Mr. Chasez," Justin said, grinning. He wriggled against JC, the older boy's cock a warm pressure against his lower back. "You like this, don't you? Perv," he teased, and tried to wiggle so his jeans were riding lower.
"*Finish* the *problem*," JC snarled, "or I swear to *God*, Justin, I will leave you alone for a week. No hand-holding, no patting your ass during basketball, and no volunteering to get you up in the morning."
Oh, that was bad. That was very, very bad. Getting up was the best part of Justin's day, besides performing and the rare occasions the guys left him and JC alone. Like now.
"What. oh God. what if I take the SATs?" Justin asked, spreading his legs a little wider. His cock felt so full. This was a thousand times better than doing it to himself.
"Depends what your score is," JC muttered, wrapping his legs around Justin's to hold him still. "Anything under 1100, and you're retaking them."
"But. ohh. if I break 1300, you'll fuck me?" Justin gasped. He leaned his head back and bit at JC's collarbone.
"You break 1300," JC murmured, reaching up his other hand and toying with a nipple, "and I'll let you *top*."
Oh God. He'd. he'd let him. buried in that sweet, tight ass, moaning and pleading, making him scream into the mattress, fuck, fuck, he wanted it *now*...
Justin let out a loud, hissing breath through his teeth and came hard. JC stroked him through it, murmuring very softly against Justin's skin.
"You," he said finally, when he could speak again, "are the best tutor *ever*." He still sounded kind of hoarse. He hoped he sounded okay tomorrow; they had a show.
"That's not an answer," JC said, licking the back of Justin's neck.
Justin wriggled and resisted the urge to fall asleep. JC would be really pissed if he did. "X is five," he said, and yawned. "Happy now, Mr. Chasez?"
"Justin." It sounded like JC was blushing. Justin craned his neck around - yeah, he was.
"Baby, what's - ohhh." Justin maneuvered so he was facing JC and wrapped his arms around his neck, grinning. It didn't even matter that his jeans were all sticky now. "You have a kink," he sang softly, teasing.
"Justin -" Still blushing. God, this was great.
"Now I want to get up early one morning so when you come to wake me up, I'll be sitting on the bed, wearing my boxers and my glasses and nothing else, writing a history essay." Justin licked his neck. "That get you hot, C?"
"This was such a bad idea," JC muttered, but tilted his head back to give Justin better access.
Justin just grinned and kissed him.