The Good Life
By Nemoinis

Justin sighed, wiped his nose and slid sideways into the cushions. He imagined he could feel the lethargy seeping into his limbs from the cold tablets Wade had given him. A cool hand patted his cheek before someone's folded up sweatshirt slid under his head. "We're almost done, J. Just a few more songs." He sighed again and snuggled into the warm cotton.

One of their songs was playing over and over. He thought it might be 'Digital Get Down' but he wasn't sure and didn't care enough to figure it out. Chris danced across his field of vision, laughing and joking, taking pratfalls, while Wade yelled in the background to quit fucking around.

It made him giggle. Chris was always fucking around; when he danced, or sang, especially when he invited Justin over for the weekend to play video games and watch bad movies. "Wanna come take a ride with me, kiddo?" he'd ask, looking at Justin slyly. He always said yes, although he never knew where it would lead. Regardless, it always started with a smile that sometimes turned to laughing turned to tickling turned to groping and between level two and three of Tomb Raider, when he wasn't even aware he was turned on, Chris would touch his back, his spine, each vertebrae with a hand that was suddenly hot. Most of the time Justin was still giggling when he came. But even if nothing happened, it'd be okay because there was always another level to the game or movie sequel number 5 and they had all weekend. Justin didn't even mind when Chris ruffled his hair, "you're a cute kid, you know that?"

Chris flittered out of sight and JC took his place, following Wade's every move with a serious face. JC was so intense. He had to be perfect; every note, every step, every thrust that he made. After the fourth time they had sex, which was hot but seemed an awful lot like the first three, Justin accused him of choreographing their fucks. Not even bothering to deny it, JC just told him to pick a song. Pissed, he said 'Bye, Bye, Bye' but JC ignored the tone and the not-quite subtle message; when the music started, he just slid right into the groove and fuck if Justin didn't recognize the dance routine in the jerk and sway of JC's hips even before the bastard started to sing. Justin barely managed not to shout JC's name when the last round of 'Byes' corresponded with the final pulsing from his dick. "How's that for fucking choreography, Timberlake?" He refused to answer, but JC knew anyway and told him to pick another tune. He screamed at the end of 'In A Godda Da Vida'.

He could barely see Lance in the corner, slowly going over a step they'd learned a month ago. Everything had to be examined. Repeatedly. They'd all pick up a dance move in an afternoon while Lance would study the how to's and why for's and need days of extra tutoring. No one complained because he brought that kind of attention to everything he did. With Lance, it was always like the first time. Just hours of him relearning Justin's body, inch by inch, tasting and stroking. Nights of wonderfully slow, lazy kisses, the kind that made him think of the swollen Mississippi river. Then Lance would curl around his back, singing nonsensical things in his hot, heavy voice. Other times, he'd whisper filthy stories about the guys that made his dick throb even as he blushed. Like how Joey screwed Lance on Lou's desk way back in the beginning, or how JC liked to be held down and tongue-fucked. Or the time Chris called out Justin's name while Lance blew him. Justin wondered what Lance whispered about him.

"Justin?" He jerked his eyes open, startled by Chris' voice. The other man was leaning over him worriedly, Joey behind him. "Hey, there. We're gonna go shower, we'll be back to get you, okay?"

Justin tried to nod but it turned into a coughing fit. When he finished, Joey held a cup of water for him to sip from along with two more tablets, while Chris hovered nearby asking if he'd be okay.

"He'll be fine once we get him to bed." Joey pushed his boneless body back down, rearranged the makeshift pillow, and patted his head.

"Looks kinda...pliant, doesn't he, Joe?" Chris leered at him over Joey's shoulder and raised his brows up and down lasciviously. "Fuckable, even."

Justin laughed weakly when Joey put Chris in a headlock. "Oh yeah, he's fuckable alright," Joey said, dragging the older man towards the locker room, "if you don't mind that he's the color of your white-trash belly." Joey's knuckles rapped on Chris' head, "course, then there's the crusty shit on his nose. That's pretty sexy though, ain't it?" The closing door cut off any replies.

Justin smiled. Joey was the best by far. With him, it was sweaty and slippery and sloppy wet. Just the way he liked it. Cause Joey was the only one who ever lifted Justin entirely off the ground and fucked him pressed against a wall, while Justin's hands scrabbled for purchase on the expensive flocked wallpaper. The entire time, Joey just thrust and thrust, leaving long, wet trails up Justin's throat and jaw with his happy, laughing mouth. In New York, he gagged Justin with his own bandanna and handcuffed him to the headboard, teasing him until he thought he'd die. When Joey finally lowered himself onto Justin's dick, whispering that he was his first, Justin burst into tears. Afterwards, Joey held him tenderly and made soft shushing noises while whispering, "I love you" over and over. It only made him press his face into Joey's sweaty throat and cry harder. Joey would always be his favorite.

But this would be okay, too. They'd take him back to his hotel room, push him into bed, and clamber about the room. JC would sit against the headboard, working on a new song with Justin's head in his lap. Then warm soup would come from Lance, who would spoon it carefully into his mouth and never spill a drop. Joey and Chris would sit on the foot of the bed with the Playstation, Justin's cold toes buried under Joey's thigh; they'd take turns stroking his ankles until he fell asleep, then do it all over again the next day.

Eventually though, he'd get sick of soup, his ankles would get ticklish, and the fucking beeping from the video games would drive him insane, or he'd bitch about the noise JC's laptop made and want be alone again. Which wasn't bad, because he knew that in a few days Chris would ask him to go for a ride again, or JC would check his watch with a smile and tell him that he could fit in a song or two between practice and dinner. Maybe Lance would offer to tell him a story. Joey would just run his hand over the nape of Justin's neck and smile.

Justin was pretty sure it would never get any better than this.


For K with thanks to J
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