August 3-9 2003

Disclaimer: I would never imply that these fine young men drink alcohol. Do not archive this story without permission.

So you wanna be a rock star

"I hate your curtains," Justin said, pointing at them with the TV remote. "They're fucking ugly."

"They're not my curtains," JC said. "They're the fucking Sheraton's fucking curtains. In your fucking hotel suite. And you're fucking wasted."

"Am not." Justin got up, crossed his eyes, put his hands behind his head, stood on one leg, and started to topple.

JC caught him and shoved him onto the couch. "Do you even know what city you're in?"

"Yes," Justin said promptly. JC waited. "I'm in, uh." JC waited some more. "Christina'll know. I'll just give her a call." Justin tried to call Christina on the TV remote. "Fuck, my phone's broken."

JC giggled. He reached out and patted Justin's head. "Sure it is, J. Sure it is."

"Well, it's not fucking working, is it?" Justin scowled at the remote and threw it into a corner.

JC kept giggling, and it seemed he couldn't stand up and giggle at the same time. His knees folded, and he sank slowly to the floor. "It's cause you drink Jack and Coke," he explained, patting Justin's knee because he couldn't reach his head any more.

"No, it's cause you come here," Justin waved at JC, almost hitting his nose, "and you're all oh no, let's not go out and party, I'm not in the mood, let's just stay in and catch up, just us!"

"But it wasn't just us." JC looked around. "Where's Trace? Wasn't Trace here?"

"So I'm stuck here with the ugly curtains and it's all your fault."

JC checked under the couch. "I coulda sworn he was here."

"He went out with Christina and her people. Are you even paying attention? Huh, C? Are you even listening to a word I'm saying?"

JC caught Justin's flailing hand and tucked it under his arm to save himself a nosebleed. "Yeah, yeah, I drove you to drink. Me and the curtains. You got any more tequila?"

"I'm not giving you any." Justin pouted, hanging over the edge of the couch. "What you want Trace for, anyway? I can get him for you. I could. If my phone worked. I mean, if you want him."

JC shook his head. "No, dude. Really really don't, I swear. I mean, I like the guy and everything, but. No." He blinked. "Are you his pimp service or something?"

Justin fell off the couch. "The hell?"

JC frowned, finding his glass at last. "You spilled the last of my tequila."

Justin jabbed an elbow into JC's thigh. "You want to have sex with Trace?"

"No, dumbass. I don't want to have sex with Trace, is what I was saying. Are you even listening to a word I'm saying?"

"Oh." Justin twisted and wrapped himself around JC, putting his head on JC's knee. "Good. Cause man, I don't even wanna think about that. You do not get to have sex."

"I don't get to have sex? Fuck you, J. I have lots of sex."

"Not with Trace," Justin said, poking a finger into JC's stomach. "Are you fucking laughing at me, C?"

JC thought about it. "Yeah." He leaned back, making himself comfortable against Justin's legs. "Are you hungry? I'm kinda hungry."

Justin shook his head. "No." He yawned. "Not hungry. And no Trace. Shit!" He tried to sit up. "I gotta put the chain on the door."

JC pushed Justin down again. "No, you don't. Why would you do that? You don't have to do that."

"Yeah, I do," Justin insisted. "Cause Trace is gonna come back, and then you'll have sex with him."

"No, I won't."

"Yes, you will."

"No, I won't."

"Yes, you will."

JC leaned in and glared at Justin so close that it looked as though Justin had only one big eye with one giant deformed iris and two pupils. "No, I won't. I'm never letting you drink again."

"Letting me?" Justin snorted. "Letting me? I'm never letting you drink again, you big Trace-lusting freak."

JC frowned. Justin seemed obsessed. "Relax. I'm not gonna have sex with your, um. Trace. And he's not gonna have sex with me. There's not gonna be any sex of any kind, okay?"

Justin's brows drew together. "No sex?"


"No sex at all?"


"Cause you could have sex with me."

"No. Wait, what?" JC leaned back a little, until Justin had two eyes again. Cyclops Justin was freaking him out.

"Me," Justin said, trying to wave his trapped arm. "Not Trace."

"But I don't want to have sex with Trace," JC said, trying to make it completely clear. "Like, really not."

Justin looked suspiciously at him. "But you said."

"No, I didn't!"

"Well, do you wanna have sex with me?"

"Um." JC looked at Justin. "You're drunk."

"No. Yeah. And?" Justin frowned. "You don't have sex with drunk people? Cause dude, I've seen you. I mean, not seen you seen you, but. Like that night in Phoenix, I don't know how you could even get it up, I mean, you were so wasted you couldn't stand up."

"I was not," JC said, incensed. "And I could."

"Stand up?"

"Get it — oh, shut up."

"Well, so will you have sex with me?" Justin wiggled some more. "Cause honestly, you made me stay in, you got me drunk, you could at least take ad, um. Advantage of it. Me. Whatever." He started taking off his shirt.

JC poked Justin's bare side. "You really mean it?" Justin nodded. "Well, okay."

"Okay?" Justin scowled. "If you're gonna be that fucking enthusiastic about it, I'm putting my shirt back on, dude."

"I'm enthusiastic," JC said. He stripped off his own t-shirt and tossed it aside. "See?"

"Yeah, better." Justin sat up. He put one hand on the back of JC's neck, slid his fingers into JC's hair, and kissed him. Justin tasted sweet, and his lips were a little sticky. JC had second thoughts.

"J, are you sure, I mean really? Cause you're really drunk."

Justin pulled back a little. "Okay, listen. Very simple question, yes or no, you wanna?"

"Yeah, but—"

Justin shoved JC down to lie flat on the floor and yanked his fly open. "Shut up, then." He leaned down and licked a stripe along JC's cock.

JC drew a deep breath, and then realized that if he said anything, Justin might stop. He put his hand over his mouth. "Mmmf!"

Justin chuckled and tugged JC's pants down a bit more. "That's right, baby. Just let me treat you good. Cause baby g—"

JC took his hand from his mouth. "Justin."


"If you call me baby girl, I'm gonna be impotent for the rest of my life."

Justin blinked. Then he put his head down on JC's stomach and laughed until he wheezed. "Sorry. Habit."

JC wiggled, and felt carpet fibers scratching him. "I wanna take my shoes off. And my pants. And I'm getting rugburn on my ass."

"For a guy getting a blowjob, you whine hella lot," Justin said, still grinning. "Next time I try taking advantage of you, I'm gonna get you more drunk." He sucked at the skin just below JC's navel.

JC pushed himself up on his elbows and tried to toe his sneakers off. Justin licked the head of JC's cock. JC's elbows gave out on him. He drew in another deep breath and let it out in a suspiciously breathy moan. "Shoes," he said. "Pants. Carpet. Oh, fuck, do that again."

"Mmm," Justin said and did it again. JC shuddered and arched until he had pointy ballerina toes and his ass lifted from the floor. When he tried to speak, his mouth didn't work, so he waved his hand around a bit and Justin apparently understood what he meant, and did it again and again and again.

Then he stopped. JC blinked his eyes open and watched the ceiling spin. He tried a discontented sound, and when that didn't help he lifted his head and looked at Justin, who was looking a bit funny. "What? Oh God, please tell me you don't feel sick."

"I'm getting rugburn on my elbow," Justin said. "C'mon, get up, there's a bed here somewhere."

JC sat up. He started pushing himself up to stand, and then he thought better of it and sat down again and took his shoes off and wriggled out of his pants. "Maybe you should put the chain on the door."

"Oh, fuck!" Justin stumbled over JC's shoes and lunged for the door. "Yeah. Right. There. Ow, fuckin' stupid table...." He turned around. "Hey, you're naked."

"Yeah, I hear it works better that way." JC went over and rubbed his face against Justin's bare shoulder.

Justin put his arm around JC's waist and hauled him along into the bedroom. The floor was full of sneakers and the entertainment pages from the local paper and a couple of wet towels and two empty half-liter bottles of Coke, and JC stumbled over a pair of dirty socks and fell into Justin, who stumbled over the recharger cable for somebody's cell phone and fell on the bed.

"Y'know," Justin said conversationally, wiggling a little, "you're a lot heavier than you look."

JC snorted. His face was smushed into the crook of Justin's neck, and he could feel Justin's pulse against his lips. It felt kind of neat. Life, right there, right under the skin. "Perks of being a vampire," he said.

"Huh?" Justin grabbed hold of JC's hair and draggedhis head up. "Okay, my turn. You sure we should be doing this, cause you're so drunk even I don't understand what you're saying."

"No, no." JC twisted his head and licked behind Justin's ear. "I'm not. I mean, I am. It was just a thing." He looked hopefully at Justin. "Take your jeans off?"

Justin reached down. "Might be easier if you weren't lying on top of me."

"Yeah," JC agreed, gnawing a little at Justin's shoulder. "Hey, have you lost weight? You feel all skinny and bony."

"This from you." Justin wrapped his arms around JC aned rolled. When he got his legs free, he went back to trying to get his jeans off.

"I'll help," JC said and stuck his hand down Justin's open fly. Justin wriggled his hips and worked the jeans down about a quarter of an inch. Then he wriggled his hips some more. JC grinned.

"You're not helping." Justin squirmed. "Like, at all."

"This is more fun." JC closed his hand a little tighter and tried to bet with himself whether Justin's hips would roll left or right.

"Fucker." Justin did a sort of full-body wobble. JC leaned down and licked his stomach. "No, fuck, stop. You were the one who was all off with the jeans. I feel like a fucking teenager."

JC giggled. "Drunk, horny, making out on top of the bedspread, jeans still on. Yeah. God, that used to be fun. Your mom's not gonna knock on the door, is she?"

"God, no." Justin pushed JC away, rolled out from under JC's hands, and fell off the bed. "Oh, fuck."

JC couldn't stop giggling. "That's great, J. You're, like, taking it to the next level."

"Fuck you." Justin twisted out of his jeans and crawled up on the bed again. He draped himself over JC, warm and naked and not that skinny after all. "Okay, look, the door's locked and my pants are off, and I'm'a kiss you now. Stop giggling, you freak."

JC didn't stop giggling until Justin's tongue was in his mouth. Then he put his hands in the small of Justin's back and rocked up against him. He felt a little slow and heavy, like a lava lamp, but in a good way. The roll of Justin's hips against his own made him see bubbles of bright, warm colors. "That's good," he mumbled, because Justin still tasted like sugar and alcohol. "You know, um. You're heavier than I look, too."

The bedspread was silky and slinky under JC's back, and he skidded a little as Justin thrust against him and the bed swayed. Justin was silky, too, sweaty and smooth and JC's fingers slipped down the bumps of Justin's spine. He turned his head and licked Justin's shoulder and imagined the taste of ink on his tongue, the tattoo sticking to his teeth like one of those little transference stickers the girls wore at concerts.

"Stop doing that," Justin said, and his hand twisted into JC's hair again.

"Stop doing what?"

"Stop stopping — um. Stop the part where you stop kissing me all the time." Justin frowned. "Oh, fuck it." He kissed JC. "Like that. I mean, not like that." He kissed JC again. "Like that."

"Yeah," JC said, and the slow and heavy feeling inside him rolled over into heat. "I think," and Justin was holding him so he could only speak into Justin's mouth, "I think I'm, I mean I know," and then it happened, fast and hot and sudden. Justin made a satisfied sound and his hips twisted, sweat-slick and hard, driving hard and pushing down. JC held on and tasted the quick build-up, the indrawn breath, the moment of weightlessness.

He blinked and relaxed as Justin slumped on top of him, pressing him down into the bed.

"Don't fall asleep," Justin said. "Cause, um. Kind of messy here."

"Okay," JC agreed. He closed his eyes. "You're heavier than, you know." He thought about it. "Than I think."

Justin laughed into JC's hair. The laugh turned into a yawn. "You stopped."


"You stopped kissing me."

"No, I didn't," JC said, and fell asleep.

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