Date: Sun, 04 Aug 2002 17:11:52 -0400
From: Writer Boy <writerboy69@hotmail.com>
Subject: jc's hitchhiker - part 112

Obligatory warnings and disclaimers:

1) If reading this is in any way illegal where you are or at your age, or
you don't want to read about male/male relationships, go away. You
shouldn't be here.

2) I don't know any of the celebrities in this story, and this story in no
way is meant to imply anything about their sexualities, personalities, or
anything else.  This is a work of pure fiction.

Questions and commentary can be sent to "writerboy69@hotmail.com". I enjoy
constructive criticism, praise, and rational discussion. I do not enjoy
flames, and will not tolerate them.

That said, on with Season 7.

***Lance***

Lance was only half awake in the dim light when he realized Justin was
twisting in the sheets, whimpering to himself. Justin had drifted away from
him during the night, sliding across the mattress, and now he lay on his
back, sweating and panting. His voice was high and breathy, and his
breathing was interspersed with whines.

"No, please, no, not there, no," Justin whimpered as Lance blinked himself
awake. He sounded afraid, but there was also another tone mixed in with the
groans and whimpers, a kind of urgent tension. Before Lance could rouse
himself completely, trying to shake off the rest of his sleep, he felt the
bed twitch as Justin jerked violently, his whole body locking up, and then
Justin rolled onto his side, his back to Lance. Lance thought he might be
awake, as he was moving around a little.

"Justin?" Lance asked sleepily. "You ok?"

Justin kept moving around, and Lance wondered if he might still be asleep,
but then he froze, and finally spoke.

"No!" Justin whispered, his voice high and cracking. "No no no no!"

"Justin!" Lance said sharply, starting to sit up. Justin didn't seem to
hear him as he threw himself out of bed, running into the bathroom and
slamming the door behind him before Lance could even finish sitting
up. Junior turned in a nervous circle in front of the bathroom door,
whimpering, and Lance bolted out of bed, his heart pounding, when he heard
the click of the bathroom door locking. Lance knocked hard on the
door. "Justin?  Justin?"

Inside he heard the shower switch on, and he could hear Justin mumbling to
himself over and over, just repeating the word "No." What was wrong with
him? And what was he doing in there? Lance remembered what he used to do,
the way he used to sit in the shower and scrub and scrub, or turn the water
up until he was scalding himself, and began to pound on the door. What if
Justin was doing that, or something worse?  They had razors in there, and
scissors, and any number of other things he could hurt himself with.

"Justin! Justin, please open the door!" Lance yelled, practically
screaming.  "Justin, it's Lance! Please open the door!"

There was still no answer from inside the bathroom, and Junior whimpered
again, looking urgently at Lance and scratching at the door with his paw.

"Justin, please!" Lance said, pounding on the door again. "Justin, you're
scaring me, and you're scaring Junior. If you don't open the door, I'm
going to break it down, Justin."

Lance stood with his forehead against the door, waiting, and just as he was
getting ready to kick it open he heard a click as the lock released.

"Don't, don't open it, please, ok?" Justin begged him, his voice
shaking. He sounded like he was dying, and Lance had to fight every
instinct in his body, which told him to open the door right now. He could
tell that Justin was right on the other side of it.

"Justin, I'm not just leaving you in there," Lance said. "If you want to be
alone, I'll leave you in the bathroom after I talk to you, but I have to
make sure you're ok.  You're scaring me, Justin."

"I'm sorry," Justin whimpered, farther away now. "I'm sorry."

"Justin, I'm going to open the door now, ok?" Lance said, his hand on the
knob. Justin didn't answer him, and Lance started to turn the knob. He was
so afraid now that he felt dizzy, terrified that he would open the bathroom
and see something horrible.  "I'm coming into the bathroom, Justin, but I
swear, I promise, I'm not going to hurt you. I promise, Justin. I just want
to make sure you're ok."

Lance eased slowly into the bathroom, looking around, and Junior wiggled
through his legs, trotting over to the shower door. The glass was frosted,
but Lance could see the shadowed, indistinct form of Justin, curled into a
tiny ball in the bottom of the shower, leaning against the wall as the
water streamed over him. Lance could hear him sobbing over the sound of the
shower, but he wanted to take in the whole scene before he ran over there,
to make sure he didn't miss anything. Stopping himself to do that was one
of the hardest things he had ever done, but he was so scared for Justin
that he didn't want to become irrational and overlook something. The
bathroom counter appeared undisturbed, no razors or bottles of pills in
sight. There was a slick trail of water across the bathroom floor, where
Justin had apparently left the shower to unlock the door, and Justin's
clothes were strewn across the bathroom. Lance walked past them, and sat
down on the floor in front of the shower door.

"Justin, I'm right here, if you need me," Lance said quietly, making sure
Justin could hear him over the water, but not wanting to yell, and make him
feel threatened. "Are you all right?"

"Go away," Justin whimpered, and Lance could see him folding in on himself
in the shower. Junior whined again, apparently as sensitive to Justin's
moods as Lance was.  Junior didn't seem to be interested in leaving the
bathroom, so Lance wasn't, either.  "Please, Lance, please don't look at
me."

"Justin, I can't really see you through the door," Lance said. "Look,
you'll see. I can't see you, and I'm not going to open the door without
your permission. I just want to make sure you're ok."

Justin didn't say anything, but Lance saw him shift a little, and could
tell that he was looking, checking on what Lance had said. Lance didn't lie
to Justin, ever, and he knew Justin would think of that.

"Justin?" Lance asked again. "Justin, please?"

"I, I didn't, didn't mean," Justin began, sobbing. "I didn't mean to."

"Mean to what?" Lance asked, looking around. Rather than answer, Justin
just began crying harder in the shower stall, his shoulders shaking. It was
high, fragile crying, as if he were afraid someone might hear.

Lance looked around the bathroom, hoping to spot a clue, trying to figure
out what could be wrong, when his eyes slid over Justin's discarded clothes
again. Lance sniffed, catching a little hint of something, and leaned over
to check the pile. Sure enough, the front pouch of Justin's briefs was wet
and looked sticky, and the unmistakable smell of cum drifted over toward
Lance's nose. Lance sighed, realizing what was wrong, but having no idea
what to tell him.

"Justin?" Lance said, finally. "Justin, it's not a bad thing. It's not
something you did on purpose."

"I didn't want to do it," Justin said, still crying. Lance could hear the
pain in his voice. "I didn't mean to, I didn't want to, but I, I couldn't
help it."

"Justin, it's natural," Lance sighed. He wanted to reach into the shower to
comfort him, but this was such a touchy situation that he was afraid to do
anything, to push Justin's threshold in any way. "It happens to all guys,
Justin, and not on purpose.  It's not something you did wrong."

"But I was dreaming about it, Lance," Justin whined. His tears seemed to be
leveling off, and Lance figured that it was probably because, deep down, he
knew Lance was right. "I was, I had a dream last night that I was, I was
naked, and I was doing, I was doing a bad thing, and it happened again
tonight, and I, you know."

"Justin, you can't help your dreams," Lance said soothingly. "You know
that, Justin. If you could, you and I would both be ok. Now, what happened
tonight, it wasn't something you wanted, and even if it was, that would be
ok, too."

"No, not it wouldn't," Justin said miserably. "It's not ok, not for
me. It's not, Lance."

Lance sighed, petting Junior, who continued to paw at the shower door with
his foot. His nails clicked over the glass, and Lance knew that Justin must
be able to hear it inside. He had to get him out of there, and talk him
down.

"Justin, please, shut off the water," Lance said quietly. "I'm sure you're
all washed off by now, and I want to talk to you, ok?"

"Are you mad at me?" Justin asked quietly, reaching up to shut the water
off. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"No, I'm not mad," Lance said, standing.

He figured Justin would want him to leave the bathroom, but the shower door
cracked open, and Justin's hand snaked out, grabbing a towel. Lance looked
away as Justin dried himself, even though he couldn't really see him
through the glass anyway, wanting to give him some privacy. Finally Justin
wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped out, his torso still a
little wet, but all Lance was looking at were his eyes, which were wide and
glassy, red rimmed.

"I didn't mean to," Justin said softly, avoiding looking at his clothes.

"Justin, I told you, it's ok," Lance repeated calmly. "Come on. Let's get
you dressed, ok?"

"OK," Justin said, nodding. He followed Lance out of the bathroom, Junior
dancing around his feet wagging his tail, and walked over to the dresser,
pulling out a fresh pair of briefs. "Could you?"

"Yeah, no problem," Lance said, turning around. He heard the towel thump
onto the floor, and waited.

"OK," Justin said, and Lance turned around to see him, in his briefs,
pulling on a new shirt, and a pair of long pajama pants. "What did you want
to talk to about?"

"Justin, come sit down," Lance said, patting the bed. Justin walked over
carefully, and Lance reached for the box of tissues, just in case they
needed it. "Justin, I know you're upset about what happened tonight, but
it's a normal thing. It's something that your body did, and it doesn't have
anything to do with what you want, or didn't want."

"I didn't want anything," Justin insisted, shaking his head. He held one of
Lance's hands, petting Junior with the other. "I didn't, Lance, I don't
want that ever again."

"I know, Justin, and that's what I wanted to talk to you about," Lance
said, squeezing his hand. "Justin, what happened to you was a terrible
thing, it was, and in your head, I know that's all you can think of every
time you think about sex."

Justin's lip trembled, and Lance wrapped his other hand around the one he
was holding, cradling it.

"Justin, I know how you feel about sex right now," Lance said softly. The
room seemed almost unnaturally quiet around them. "You don't have to say
anything. I know how hard it is for you, and how much it hurts, because
I've been through it. But Justin, what happened to you wasn't your fault,
and it didn't have anything to do with sex, not really."

"But Lance," Justin began, shaking his head in confusion.

"No, Justin, just listen to me for a minute," Lance said, squeezing
Justin's hands again.  "When you love someone, and you trust them, and you
care about them, sex is a beautiful thing. It's soft, and loving, and it
will never, ever hurt you. Never, Justin. If you love each other, it will
always be nice, and good, and it will always make you feel closer."

Justin was listening quietly now, but Lance couldn't tell if he really
believed him or not.  He didn't expect this little talk to straighten
Justin out, to solve all of his problems, but it would give him something
to think about, and maybe it would make him feel better about what had
happened to him this morning.

"It's ok to want that, Justin," Lance said. "It's ok to want to be that
close to someone, and to want to make them feel good, and to let them make
you feel good, too.  It's not wrong, it's not bad, and it's not something
you should be ashamed of. What happened to you tonight, this morning,
whatever time it is right now, that was your body, and some part of you,
telling you it still wants to think about that, and that someday it wants
to feel that way about someone. You've felt that way before, Justin, and
that was your body and part of your mind telling you that it wants to feel
that way someday again."

"But I can't," Justin said miserably, shaking his head. His eyes stung
again, and he stopped petting Junior to swipe at them with the back of his
hand. Lance wrapped an arm around his shoulders and held him tightly. "I
can't think about it, about that. When I do, when I start to, I think
about, about him, and what he did, and that's all I can see. I feel it,
Lance, I still feel it inside. I can't do that, can't think about that,
while I feel like that. I just can't."

"You don't have to, Justin," Lance said, squeezing Justin against him. "I
said someday, but that doesn't have to be now. I know it's different for
you from the way it is for me, and that, you know, you like boys and girls
both, but someday you're going to like one of them enough that they'll make
you feel safe, and you won't be afraid, because you'll trust them, and
you'll love them, and you'll know that they love you. The way you feel
about them will cover up all the rest, Justin, and all you'll be able to
think about is how much you love them. Nothing else, and none of the rest
of this. None of it will matter."

Justin sighed, but didn't say anything. His eyes were dry again, but he
wanted to believe Lance. After all, Lance had been through it before.

"You ready to go back to bed?" Lance asked, and Justin nodded, laying back
down as Lance went for the lamps. Lance lay on his back, waiting to see if
Justin wanted to touch him or not, and Justin slid over, laying his head on
Lance's bare chest.  Lance smoothed Justin's short, curly hair, and waited
for Junior to stop walking around and get comfortable. "Justin? I know it's
a lot to think about. Just promise me that if something upsets you again,
you won't hold it inside, ok?"

"OK," Justin said, swallowing. Lance's bare chest felt warm and smooth
beneath his cheek, safe and comforting. "Lance? I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm
sorry I made you feel this way."

"Justin, we've already had this talk," Lance said. "I don't want you to
dwell on it anymore, ok? I know you're sorry, and that you didn't mean
to. Neither one of us was thinking clearly about what we were doing
then. And, you know, in a weird way, if it hadn't happened, I wouldn't be
able to help you."

"That doesn't make it ok," Justin said quietly. He knew that Lance was just
trying to make him feel better, but what he'd done couldn't just be brushed
aside like that. It had hurt Lance too much for them to just sweep it under
the rug. Lance brushed his hand through Justin's hair again.

"No, it doesn't," Lance agreed. "But it doesn't matter, Justin. I want to
move on, not look back, and that's what we should think about now. Getting
past what happened to us. Just because it happened once doesn't mean it has
to keep happening again, and that's what'll keep happening if you let
it. Every time you think about it, and let it consume you, it happens
again. Someday it'll stop, Justin, but part of that will come from
you. Let's go to sleep now, ok?"

Justin didn't answer, but as he lay awake, listening to Lance's breathing
change as he fell back to sleep, he realized again that he had a lot to
think about.

***Jack***

"I love you," Josh breathed, licking the back of my neck as he pushed
inside of me.

"I love you, too," I panted, feeling his chest slide across my back as his
cock stretched into me. I was impaled beneath him on the mattress, crushed
into it, but I liked it.  Burning warmth rolled pleasurably through me, and
I could barely catch my breath as his hands slid under my chest to grab my
shoulders, using them to pull himself forward.

I'd woken up slowly, feeling feather light caresses as his fingers played
over my body.  He wasn't poking or prodding, just touching, brushing his
hands over me.  Sometimes Josh just liked to touch me, as if to prove to
himself that I was real.  Regardless of his reasons, I sighed as I felt a
fingertip lightly drawing circles around my nipple as he laid the other
hand flat on my chest, my heart beating beneath his palm. His hands were
soft, deftly nimble as they danced across my body, and when I felt the tip
of his index finger slide over the top of my stiffening nipple, I lazily
opened my eyes to see him smiling at me. In the full light of morning I
could see that I was right, and he was losing a little weight, but he was
still gorgeous. The sheet had fallen down to our waists, and my eyes jumped
back and forth over his chest, up the lines of his neck, down the ripples
of his abs, before settling on his bright blue eyes, sparkling beneath the
wavy tangle of his brown and bronze streaked hair.

"Good morning," he said, smiling. His face lit up, those cheekbones
glowing, lips stretching wide.

"Morning," I said, lunging for him.

Josh laughed as I rolled over him in the bed, wrapping his arms around me
as I scrabbled mine down his sides, tickling him. He shook beneath me,
trying to squirm away, as my fingertips ran up his sides, dancing over his
ribs and the spot just below his armpit, where everyone is ticklish. He was
laughing, shaking his head back and forth as he tried to escape, his feet
jerking blindly beneath the sheet, strong legs brushing against mine. He
begged me to stop, and when I refused he reached up to grab my face with
both hands, biceps flexing as he held me in place, and then he brought his
soft lips to mine, his pink tongue darting into my mouth. I sighed against
him, feeling our stubbly chins brush against each other, and stopped
tickling as I lay on top of him, eyes closed, mouths still joined.

"That's cheating," I whispered finally, when we broke. He flicked his
tongue out over my bottom lip.

"What ever it takes," he answered, smiling.

Josh pulled my head back down, his hands still on the sides of my face, and
brought his mouth to mine again. His lips were a little firmer now, more
insistent, and I realized that my hard cock was laying against his, trapped
between our bodies. I arched my back a little, flexing, and felt my shaft
slide against his. We both moaned into each other's mouths, and as I did it
again his hands moved, one sliding around the back of my head to grip my
neck while the other danced down my back, grabbing one of my cheeks and
using it to pull me against him. Josh and I continued kissing, mouths
fighting each other now, tongues pressing against each other like snakes as
I thrust against him, and he moved beneath me, thrusting as well. Our hard
cocks ground against each other, caressing each other, both of us starting
to leak a little against our abs, our heads smearing wetly against each
other as Josh's strong hands, gripping and pulling, urged me against
him. One of my hands was on Josh's hip, my fingers pressing against the
velvet muscle, and the other snaked between us to his chest, grabbing one
of his hard brown nipples in a quick twist that had him grunting into my
mouth.

Josh flexed beneath me, still holding me, our mouths stuck together as if
glued, and rolled, so that I was now below him. The sheet twisted around
us, and he kicked at it, shoving it down as we continued to thrust our
cocks against each other, moaning and grunting. He broke our kiss, his
hands sliding off of me as he lifted himself up on them, and stared down at
me. His eyes were half closed, his mouth wet with both our spit, and his
face was clouded with lust and passion. I stared up at him, my hips moving
almost involuntarily now, and felt his hot breath panting across my
face. Without saying a word he slid down my body, bypassing my chest
entirely as he brought his mouth down to the head of my cock, sliding his
lips over it.

I sighed his name loudly, my hands sliding around to tangle in his hair as
I pressed my head back into the pillows, my back arching as my body tried
to push into his mouth.  Josh head my head inside, sucking lightly, running
his tongue over and around it, and dipped the tip through my slit, sucking
up my salty precum. As I whimpered beneath him he began to bob his head,
taking just the slightest bit more of my shaft into his mouth each time he
went down, and I thrust my hips up, fighting his slow pleasure, my arms
flexing. His own arms, on my thighs, kept me from pushing in more, but he
smiled up at me, clearly enjoying this gradually torturous blowjob. He
began to hum around my cock, knowing that I liked that, and I thought I
would lose it right then, groaning his name as I begged him to swallow me.

Josh continued his slow bobbing on me, his tongue still dancing over my
cock as it pushed through the tight ring of his lips, and when his face
finally buried itself in my pubes, sliding away as he slid almost all the
way off, and then dropped down again, his hands slid around my thighs to my
balls, and began kneading them, pulling them away from my body. My hands
convulsed in his hair, squeezing it tightly, forcing his head down into my
crotch as my arms bulged, and as I felt one of his fingers pushing
insistently at my ass I groaned and unloaded into his mouth. He swallowed,
and kept swallowing, before finally pulling off of me and kissing his way
up my body to my mouth. When I saw his face above me, flushed and wet, I
grabbed the back of his neck and ground his mouth down against mine,
jamming my tongue against his, tasting myself mixed in with the natural
taste of him.

"Josh, please," I panted, feeling one hand slide up and down my body as the
other continued to work at my hole. "Make love to me."

"Tell me how you want it, Jack," he purred, and I knew what he wanted.

"Fuck me, Josh," I breathed, rotating my hips back onto his probing
fingers.  "Fuck me, hard. Slam that big cock up inside me."

"Yeah," he grunted, chewing at my lip, his fingers pushing harder
now. Every once in a while Josh wanted me to talk dirty to him, and I was
always happy to oblige.  It was a lot better than when he tried it. He was
so damned polite that his best attempts at it were usually laughable.

"Fuck my tight ass, Josh," I grunted, wondering if I'd actually stolen that
line from a porno or if it just sounded like I did. Josh's free hand had
wandered into the nightstand, and I heard the condom rip open. I pulled it
out of his hands. "Let me."

I rolled it down over his throbbing cock, feeling it twitch in my hands,
and he pressed the tube of lube into my other hand. I flicked off the cap
and squeezed a generous portion between us, onto his working hand, and
shuddered as I felt the cold slickness on my ass.  Pushing another dollop
into my palm, I brought it to his sheathed cock and worked my hand up and
down it, making sure I didn't pull the condom off. Josh's hand pulled out
of me, and I arched my hips up in anticipation, but then I felt his hands
on my shoulders as he pulled at me.

"Roll over," he breathed against my neck, and I did.

Before I'd even finished turning I felt Josh against me, throwing himself
on top of me, crushing me beneath his body as I felt his cock slide into me
in one smooth, brutal stroke.  I froze, my head jerking back as I fought to
catch my breath, and felt his mouth on my neck as he began to thrust into
me. He slammed forward, pulling almost all the way out of me, leaving me
feeling empty and hollow, before he surged back again in long, even strokes
that jabbed at my prostate and had me groaning his name, straining beneath
him.  He kissed and sucked at the back of my neck, working my traps over
with his lips and teeth as if determined to leave a hickey, and told me he
loved me. As he thrust faster and faster, sighing and yelping, he finally
froze, his hips jerking once, and I clenched tightly around him.

"Oh, God," he panted, dropping down onto my sweaty back.

"Jesus that was good," I sighed, still seeing stars dance across my vision.

"Let's hit the showers," he said, reaching for the tissues.

"You might have to carry me," I said, giggling, as he pulled off the condom
and cleaned himself up a little. I still hadn't caught my breath.

"I'm ok with that," he said, laughing, as he bent and scooped me up,
throwing me over his shoulder and carrying me into the bathroom as I
laughed and tried not to fall off. His shoulders weren't exactly broad, but
it was a cute gesture, and I kissed him as he set me down on the bathroom
floor.

"You didn't have to do that," I said, reaching in to turn on the water.
"You'll throw your back out."

"I'm tougher than you think," he said, puffing up his chest.

"I know," I said, laughing. "I can barely walk."

"That means I was good," he said, holding the door open for me to step
inside.

"You're always good," I said, grinning, and watching him smile as
well. "Now wash my back."

We stayed in the shower for a while, slow and careful, worshipping each
other the way I had last night. Josh scrubbed me good, telling me he loved
me and how much he missed me, and I scrubbed him again, seeing all the
parts I'd only known by feel the night before. We started kissing again,
and ended up against the back wall, with him leaning into me, kissing me
over and over, as our hands played over each other. I ran mine up and down
his back, feeling him jump and shift, and he had his on the sides of my
jaw, using them to turn my face side to side so that he could kiss my
mouth, or my neck.

"So, what are we doing today?" I asked. "Once we get out of the shower, I
mean."

"First we're going to dry off, and then we'll get dressed," he answered,
nuzzling his wet head under my jaw.

"I was thinking a little beyond that," I said, tracing his spine. I liked
to run my fingertips over it, and I could tell he did, too, because he
always gave a little shiver.

"Oh," he said, giggling. The shower was still pouring down on us, but
neither of us were actually making any moves toward getting out. It was too
nice just to be there with each other, to pretend no one else existed. He
flicked my necklace aside with his tongue and licked the hollow of my
throat. It was so quick and light that I thought I would pass out, feeling
my knees start to give. "Oh, you liked that."

"I like everything you do to me," I answered, leaning a little to catch his
earlobe in my teeth. I knew he liked that just as much, and I heard him
groan as I ran my tongue up the curve of his ear. "Now tell me what we're
doing today, before I have to find some way of making you talk."

"Well, after we dry off and get dressed," Josh began, watching me smile at
hearing him repeat himself, "I thought I'd take you out to eat, since we're
in New York, and I can take you to someplace nice and fancy and spoil you."

"I like being spoiled," I laughed, gasping as he chewed on my neck and
pinched one of my nipples. "Oh, Josh."

"And then we have that party tonight," he said.

I had flown back in for the party, which was some sort of MTV shindig. It
wasn't an awards show, or a record release, but really I had more or less
stopped asking. The guys went to so many things, and I had been mildly
surprised when an invitation came separately to me. It was going to be one
of the network's cast of thousands type of evenings, the kind of parties
that I didn't feel quite at home in yet and wouldn't go to without Josh,
who never seemed nervous at these things. At least we could go sort of
casual, although it was what I called Pop-Casual, which meant I would pick
out three or four outfits that Josh shook his head at before he finally
told me what to wear.

"Are we all going to that?" I asked. "Has anyone checked the guest list?"

"Nick and Howie aren't supposed to be there," Josh answered. "So Justin and
Lance are coming. Before the party, but after lunch, I also promised Chris
we would go to the airport to pick up Vlada, because he's out golfing with
Justin today."

"That'll be cool," I said, reaching over to turn the water off. He looked
at me, surprised.  "Josh, my fingers are all wrinkled. We've been in here
forever, and Lance is probably going to bring Junior over soon."

"Yeah, and you still have to talk to Chad, too," Josh said, raining on my
parade as he handed me a towel.

"Oh yeah," I said, smiling falsely. Josh frowned, but let it go, and I
remembered that I was going to try to get along with Chad better so that I
could stop stressing Josh out. I would do my best to get along with him,
but I didn't have to like him.

***

To be continued.