Date: Wed, 5 Jul 2000 02:39:32 EDT From: KingdomGone@Angelfire.com Subject: Superman Superman KingdomGone@Angelfire.com Disclaimer: My attraction for NSync is purely sexual. This is a manifestation of that attraction, and the resulting fantasies. Fantasy. Therefore, they are not real. By not real, I mean not true. Therefore, this does not reflect the true feelings of any members of NSync. If you're too young in your city/state/area to be reading this, no one is going to stop you. But I'm supposed to tell you not to. So don't. I am hereby not responsible for anything that happens to you because you've read my story. Go further 'at your own risk'. -------------------------------------- The stubble on his chin. His pink hair. His heart, his mind, his soul. It all felt alive. This wasn't some absurd pop song romance. This was real. This is what he liked best. -------------------------------------- Rewind. One week. He was tired. He was like that, a lot. His life was on the stage, and without the lights, without the music, he was tired. The other guys, they laughed and they joked, and he laughed and he joked with them, more than them, but he wasn't there, with them. He was off, asleep. Like an insomniac. Everything was a copy of a copy of a copy unless he was on stage. On stage, he was alive. He was powerful. He was a god, a superman. He had control, complete control. His body did what he wanted it to do, it moved like he wanted it to move. -------------------------------------- Flesh, touching his. Like fire. Gracious fire. Life-giving fire. Flesh, wrapped around him. Joining him, encircling him with sweat. Moving against him, driving him wild. -------------------------------------- He sat there listening to one of them talk. They always talked. Never ending. They were always full of energy, like they were all so complete that nothing was ever wrong. He had energy, too. Or, at least, he used to. Not any more. It wasn't there, like it had been sucked away by kryptonite. He felt drained, drowsy. He didn't care about anything. Unless he was on stage. Superman. They had a show in minutes. He would be alive. -------------------------------------- Fingers, drawing lines of love on his chest. Lines that made his flesh unbearable sensitive. Through the hair that laid flat against his chest in sweat. -------------------------------------- The show. Alive. Superman. They screamed, they yelled, they cried. He danced, and they screamed like some kind of ancient ritual. He danced and he sang and they felt alive. Superman. -------------------------------------- Breath, breathing in slow rhythms over his shoulder, down his chest, brushing his arm. Steady and alive. Sweet and beautiful. -------------------------------------- After the show, he didn't want to go out. He wanted to sleep. They were all pumped, full of energy, and they wanted to play. He'd felt like this for weeks, months. Slowly drained of his energy, like something was missing. Like some part of him had been left behind, as if he forgot to pack it in a suitcase at one of the endless strings of hotels. He noticed it in Justin, too. He'd noticed a lot of Justin, lately. He wasn't sure how that made him feel. He wasn't sure if it was mutual, and he didn't dare to try and find out. After the show, they all went out, except Justin. Justin stayed behind with him. They were going to watch a movie, but they both agreed that they'd be out before the opening credits finished. Sometimes, that's how it happened. Justin's room. It was Justin's turn to have the single room. An odd number of boys left the luxury of having one single room. They rotated. It was Justin's turn. They watched the movie in Justin's room. He sat in a chair, while Justin laid on the bed. He wasn't sure about the movie. It wasn't part of his attention span. He sort of dosed, but in the haze of sleepiness he watched Justin's chest rise and fall. -------------------------------------- His chest rose and fell. Rose and fell, slowly, steadily. The arm wrapped around him rose and fell with his breathing. The arm, it wasn't just laying there, it was holding on to him. Not letting go. -------------------------------------- He watched Justin's chest rise and fall. Justin's eyes were directed at the television, but they weren't focused. Open, but unfocused. His eye lids drooped. As he watched Justin's chest, his own eyes worked against him. They started to close. He was uncomfortable in the chair, half in it, half out of it. His arm drooped over the side, his fingers limp. "Hey, man..." His eyes opened and he could see Justin looking at him. "You know, there's enough room over here, for you. You could probably see the t.v., better." Justin patted the side of the bed. It was a big bed. Tired, he accepted. The trip to the bed was hazy, like a dream. Bed, with Justin, a dream. But the bed was soft, inviting. -------------------------------------- Below him, the bed was wet, covered in sweat. The covers were on the floor. They stayed warm, though, wrapped up within one another. The sheet had been torn from the mattress on one corner. -------------------------------------- The television rattled on. He didn't care, because Justin didn't care. He looked over, to see Justin. To see Justin looking at him. Justin was turned on his side, looking at him, without sleep in his eyes. Justin swallowed. He turned on his side, to face Justin. And swallowed. Something in Justin's eyes. Pain, aching. Longing. Something in Justin's eyes made him reach over and brush his cheek. Justin's face was smooth. He wanted to hold on to him, to hold on to his body. Justin smiled. "Joey..." "Shh..." and with that, he moved in closer, pausing. His lips were almost touching Justin's. He could feel Justin's breath on his face. His mind exploded when their lips touched. An exlplosion. He wasn't tired, any more. He was alive, more alive than he'd ever been. His hand on Justin's cheek moved around, his fingers combing through Justin's hair. He pulled Justin closer, kissed him harder. His mouth opened at the same time as Justin's and his tongue pushed in, brushing Justin's. He slid a knee in between Justin's legs and rolled, Justin on his back. On top of Justin. He kissed harder. Justin reciprocated. His mouth moved down Justin's jaw, onto his neck. He could feel Justin's breath, hear it in his ears. His mouth traveled Justin's lines, down to his collarbone, his clavicle. He felt Justin's hands on his back, on his neck, on his cheek, pulling, pushing him back. "Joey... I don't.... want it to start like this... I don't want it to be... I don't want it to end here. I want it... to last..." "We'll work on that part later." "Okay." Justin kissed him hard, forcing his tongue into his mouth. It felt good. It felt like passion. It felt like life. Justin's hands worked on his buttons. He shoved up and over, rolling him over. Justin on top. Pulling at buttons, pulling the shirt open. Kissing his chest, biting at the silver Superman logo. He pulled at Justin's shirt, lifting it up, baring his chest, letting it fall, lifting it again. Over, off. He sat up, Justin on his lap, and licked at his neck. Sucked at his skin. Sweat. They're both sweaty. It didn't take long. He liked it. Justin tasteds good. He lifted up with his hips, pushing Justin over, onto his back. He crawled over him. His necklace brushed Justin's chest. He kissed him. Kissed him, kissed his chest. His belly button. he plunged his tongue into it, he didn't care. Down to the small tuft of hair below his belly button. He kissed his hair, he kissed the button on his khakis. He heard Justin exhale. Brusheds his lips along the thick fabric covering the zipper. His khakis restrain him. He could feel Justin through his khakis, aching to be released. He looked up. Justin's eyes were closed. He lifted his hips, pressing the fabric to his face. He reached up, popped the button open. Pulled at the zipper. Wraped his fingers through Justin's belt loops, and pulled downward. His khakis slid off. He used his teeth to pull at his boxers. Justin's cock brushed his cheek as he pulls them down. Discarded them. He pressed his mouth to Justin's leg, his tongue brushing Justin's sweaty skin. He traced a line up his leg, until his tongue brushed the soft skin of Justin's testicles. He inhaled, breathing in. Justin's cock twitched. He wrapped his hand around it, licking at it's base. Justin's body quivered, quaked. He took the head into his mouth, his tongue brushing briskly against it's underside. His mouth was warm on Justin's cock. Justin moaned. Justin had never felt so good. He heard Justin's breath halt, and felt his cum squirting into his mouth. It hit the back of his mouth, trailed his tongue. He swallowed. -------------------------------------- They're bodies intertwined in perpetual motion. Sweat lubricates their skin as they brush along one another. Their rhythms syncopated. Life like they've never felt it. At some point, the covers are abandoned. And the sheet pulls off of the mattress at the corner. They don't notice, because it doesn't matter. They matter. Their sex like music, their bodies, pure passion. Heat and sweat and motion and pleasure. Ecstasy. -------------------------------------- Justin's arm wrapped around his chest, hugging him, never letting go. His hand brushing through Justin's hair. Justin's hand traces lines on his chest, through his matted hair, around his silver necklace that glints in the moonlight. Justin's eyes looking into his, and Justin thinks it. Superman. -------------------------------------- Contact me at KingdomGone@angelfire.com, if you want to. I'd like it.