Date: Fri, 15 Aug 2003 02:25:22 +0100 (BST)
From: Hmm Hmm <monging_ming@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: James Gets Busted

This is a story of sex between consenting legal
adults. This story does not in any way reflect the
true sexuality of James Bourne of the band Busted
(except for in my head.)
The usual rules apply:
1)Don't read this if it's illegal where you live
2)Don't read this if you "hate fags"
3)Don't read this when your mom's home



"You can't just leave me sitting here unseen to!"

James half paused as he left the hotel room. He rolled
his eyes -- he'd heard that line a hundred times since
he laid down "All the way" on the album, and ever
since groupies had quoted it at him when he'd failed
to get jiggy with them after gigs.
He just wanted to fit in -- the other lads had had
their share of groupies when things weren't working
out with respective girlfriends. Charlie had a
penchant for pouring champagne over a girl's breasts
while Matt would take older women to his room after
gigs -- often PR assistants, stage hands and (it hand
been known) mothers of some of the younger fans.
They'd tried to initiate James into this, their new
lifestyle. On the night of their final gig they'd even
hired a prostitute for him, with the instructions
"Here's five grand, do whatever he wants." James had
ended up talking to her for the whole night and
playing her some of his songs. He discovered she had
talent and was only on the game until she broke the
record industry. James hooked her up with a contact on
the inside, and the young girl was getting recognised
and known for her great voice.
This didn't help his predicament any, however. It
wasn't that he was asexual at all -- he was as horny as
any other healthy nineteen year old -- but he often
found himself thinking "There must be more". Dejected,
he found himself in the hotel bar, now closed for the
night. If he'd wanted he could get it opened
especially for him -- it'd happened before. But tonight
he just wanted to sit, to be alone.
He took a stool at the bar and rested his head on the
darkened grate of the shutters preventing him from
reaching the alcohol within and sighed. He ran his
hands over his chin. He was trying to get a little
stubble to get away from the "Bubblegum Pop Punk"
image that had stuck to the guys like glue since Year
3000. It was important that their next single --
Sleeping With The Light On -- do well, and for that
they needed recognition as grown-ups, with
instructions from Universal Island to "Just shave a
little less often guys". A loan silhouette mopped the
floor at the lit doorway to the kitchens.
The others had thought the shaving instruction
hilarious. Charlie loved experimenting with his hair
and sideburns, whereas Matt could not go without
shaving for too long without risking his acne flaring
up. James had found the whole thing a bore. He was in
the business for the music, not for the image. His
heart longed for more -- for something other to what he
had found. His outlet was his music, his outlet for
the longing inside him aching to burst out. If only he
knew what he was longing FOR.

"Is everything OK? I could get someone to open up if
you...?" The question tailed off as James looked up
sharply, annoyed at the intrusion into his thoughts.
He saw not a jobsworth hotel manager but a boy no
older than himself with a mop in one hand, obviously a
summer job. He felt a sudden sympathy for the guy, and
an ache of jealousy too. At the end of his shift, the
other guy would go home, go to sleep in his own bed
and maybe, the next day being Sunday, wake up to a
cooked breakfast, homemade by his mother with love.
James had loving parents too, but they were currently
over a hundred miles away, at home in Southend.
Regretful of his sharp look, he apologised to the
hotel worker and said that no thanks, he'd be fine at
the bar.

"I'll leave you to it then. Just give us a call if you
need anything" said the worker. He was maybe just
under 6ft -- about as tall as James but shorter than
Matt and Charlie. A waxed fin of dark brown hair
topped his head, and the crystal lights reflected
hints of red in it from the summer. James considered
it as his new look -- he needed something since his
hair was "messy" at best, "lame" at worst. Suddenly,
without thinking he blurted "Could you stay?"

Taken aback, the worker paused. The unpleasantness of
his nylon uniform didn't detract from his overall
pleasantness, he had clear skin and dark brown eyes a
friendly, genuine face too. James hadn't seen many of
those recently -- a series of yay sayers and record
company execs, all interested in one thing -- the bulge
in his wallet.

"Sure. I mean, I should be cleaning the toilets so...
Sure!"

The boy came to the stool next to James and paused.
Changing his mind, he moved so that there was one
barstool between them before sitting. James was
surprised to feel an ache of disappointment in him
that his new companion hadn't sat closer. He just felt
lonely. Longed to be held, to be touched.

"I'm Jamie." He obviously felt he needed to break the
silence, and James was welcome of the distraction.

"Jamie... I used to get called that, when I was little"
James teased. He felt the need to complete the
introduction. "I'm James". He held out his hand, Jamie
took it and shook it firmly.

"I know", Jamie said. "I know you won't remember, I
really wouldn't expect you to... We've kinda met
before." James cast his mind back... he saw so many
faces from day to day... he had to focus on remembering
his friends and family back home, these new people
from his new life meant nothing to him, not really.
"Twice. Once at that tacky book signing in an Asda and
again at Top of the Pops the other week."

James lifted his head in acknowledgement... That, he
hadn't expected. Jamie was...a boy, why would he be at a
signing? Inwardly he sighed. "There with a
girlfriend?"

"Hardly", Jamie smirked knowingly. "I'm actually... a
bit of a big fan." He looked down, ashamed. "I'm doing
this shift for free, I took it from someone else just
so I could work in the same building as you guys for
the night. I even paid the room service guy to let me
bring you any orders, so I might get to meet you." He
laughed a little. James noticed how his eyes sparkled
in the reflected light of the doorway. "Sad huh?"

"So essentially, you're a stalker." James held Jamie's
stare, deadpan before breaking out in a grin himself.
He loved terrifying people who might think they'd
offended him in some way. Jamie also relaxed and
laughed.

"Yeah, a stalker's it. My mate tries to call us `Teds,
you know, like the name they're giving the Busted fans
out there? But I'm having none of it."

"How come?"

"I'm not a 14 year old girl. I don't wear
pre-customised crap from Claire's accessories" (Jamie
quickly slid his sweatband off his wrist and pocketed
it) "and I like your music, I don't just think you're
fit and that qualifies you for fame."
James looked up, impressed. It was about bloody time
someone admired their talent and their music. He
quickly launched back into comedy mode though.
"You don't think I'm fit?" He'd meant it as a joke, to
keep the banter up between them but the look in
Jamie's eyes told him he'd just gotten himself a whole
lot deeper than that.

"I didn't say that. In fact, you could say... `I only
dream of you'?" At that Jamie leaned in and kissed
James. The night had gotten suddenly a whole lot
weirder.

It was only a soft kiss, no urgency and certainly no
tongue. James was taken by surprise but he felt
something in that kiss that he had never felt with any
of the teenage groupies before it. He felt tenderness
and loving and, above all, a sense of understanding.

All Jamie knew that his heart was about to burst
through his chest, and that an all-too-familiar
sinking feeling was starting in his chest. He pulled
back, expecting at least a curse and an insult, at
worst a punch in the face and good kicking from the
rest of the band.

"I'm sorry-" he started. "I don't know why I always
have to RUIN things." His hands scrunched up the
corner of James's shirt that he had clenched while
they clinched. "Please don't get me fired, do whatever
you want to me, punch me if you're pissed off, but
please -- I need this jo-"

"Just shut up a minute," said James. This was all too
much for him. He needed time to take in what he had
just enjoyed, needed a moment to process the
consequences of his actions and future actions. This
was certainly uncharted territory for him, but then
why did it feel so...right? "Can I try something?" His
hand met Jamie's on his blue Bench shirt, opened by
two buttons due to the warm night air. This time it
was his head that tilted as their lips met, and he
took things to the next level, pushing his tongue
through his lips to meet Jamie's. Again, it was a
short kiss, a tender kiss but a kiss that had huge,
potentially life-changing consequences for the both of
them. When they broke apart for air, this time it was
not the awkward silence that followed the last kiss,
it was a lustful electricity that had been lacking in
all of James's former relationships.

"Holy shit." Jamie certainly knew how to express
himself, James thought with an inward laugh.

"Holy shit is right", said James. "What are we going
to do about this?"

Jamie winked at him, and in that wink he conveyed more
affection and caring than James had experienced his
whole time on the road. "What are we going to do about
THAT?" James followed his gaze to his own crotch,
where his hard schlong had already tented the heavy
material of his skater shorts. James chose those
shorts for their ability to hide embarrassing
situations like this, but while seated and in this
state of arousal, nothing could hide his true desires.
Jamie tentatively moved his hand from James's leg,
where it still rested holding his shirt after their
first kiss and placed it on his crotch, feeling his
hardness under his palm. Involuntarily, James groaned
and ground up into Jamie's fist as their lips met for
a third, more permanent time. Their constant promotion
had meant very little privacy and very little time for
rest, so James's sexual frustration had built up over
the last week with no release from his best friend --
his right hand. The result was now, without warning,
he bit down on Jamie's lips as he came in his shorts,
dampening Jamie's hand. He stopped his kissing action
but his lips never left Jamie's as he breathed heavily
from his nose as pulse after pulse of enjoyment ran
through him.

Meanwhile, Jamie's hardness intensified as he felt
James unload beside him. He needed to get off, and
quickly. He pulled off his tacky uniform trousers as
James recovered and stood, his bulging briefs not
hiding anything. James stared, transfixed at Jamie and
went to him, kneeling down and removing the final
barrier between him and his prize. It was the first,
other than his own, that he had ever seen hard, and he
was relieved the see that they compared well in size.
In fact, he could imagine it as his own. He grasped it
and Jamie thrusted unconsciously into his fist. He
looked up at Jamie's pleading eyes and knew what he
must do. As liberated as he felt by this new take on
his own sexuality, he knew that he still needed to
prepare himself for what he was about to do. He was
about to become the lowest of the low -- a cocksucker --
and about to accept all the connotations that came
with it. The looked at the penis right in front of him
and closing his eyes, licked it from base to tip. It
tasted of nothing... just of skin, no worse than sucking
his own thumb. James looked at it again -- it twitched
of its own accord. Jamie had meanwhile slumped back
onto the barstool and had his eyes closed, already, it
seemed, in ecstasy from the small lick James had given
him. Again, James went down on Jamie, this time taking
the entire head of his cock in his mouth.

Jamie groaned as he humped James's mouth. He had never
felt anything so good, and ran his hands through
James's messy blonde hair. He could feel his own peak
rising... he tried to warn James in time but all that
would come out was a grunt. He looked down, trying to
warn James with eye contact to pull off, but seeing
his idol looking up at him, sucking him off with such
lust in his eyes pushed Jamie over the edge.

Spurt after teenaged spurt entered James's mouth. He
had not thought about this bit of the procedure and
unsure what to do next, swallowed as quickly as he
could to make room for the next wave. He stayed there,
sucking on Jamie until he'd gotten his breath back and
Jamie's softness fell out of his mouth. Shakily, James
got to his feet, feeling the damp stickiness in his
boxers for the first time. As he stood, he pulled up
Jamie's boxers, over the stubble burn on his thighs,
while at the same time grabbing some napkins at the
bar to mop himself up. He lowered his shorts and for
the first time Jamie saw the cock of his teenage
lust-object. He was about to go into kiss James again,
James was lifting his chin to meet his lips when there
was a shout from the lit doorway.

A deep, throaty voice shouted, "What the FUCK is going
on?" Jamie looked over James's shoulder to see a 6ft 3
silhouette in the doorway. Knowing the voice of his
band member anywhere, James decided it was time to
face the music. With a sigh, he turned right round,
with his trousers down.

TO BE CONTINUED?

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