Before Justin had even stepped into the club, he could hear the blaring music and feel the bass under his feet. Heíd been to clubs like this before, where the music was so loud you couldnít even think; all you could do was dance. It was no wonder, JC had picked the club tonight. He always picked clubs like this. Justin knew he would have a headache by the end of the night. It was too late to turn back now, though. They had just paid the cover and were surrounded by pulsating strobe lights and flashing lasers.
Oh well, Justin thought to himself, making a beeline for the bar, might as well get drunk early. He saw Lance on his right and had to grin. Lance had the same intolerance for loud music as Justin did. They had to put up with their concerts, gladly put up with them, but there was only so much noise they could stand. Lance caught the look and grinned back. It seemed Justin had gotten himself a drinking partner for tonight.
He didnít mind. Lance was fun to drink with, never bringing up embarrassing memories or become bitter like Chris. He didnít get too loud and flirty like Joey or jealous like JC. Lance was the perfect drunk. He got happy and a little giggly, but not overly so. It was weird hearing someone with such a deep voice giggle, but Justin personally thought it was cute. The bartender saw Justin and smirked, handing him a Screwdriver. Most bartenders would ignore the fact that Justin was underage in return for actually having a member of Nsync in their bar. It was good to be famous.
After getting their drinks, he and Lance headed towards a table as far from the speakers as possible. Somewhere between watching Chris grind on any available body and watching JC and Joey wrap around each other, Justin realized he had become seriously drunk. He laughed and informed Lance of this. Lance gave his drunken twitter and agreed that he, too, was wasted.
Justin was poking Lanceís side to make him giggle again when he noticed Lance had somehow gotten ink on his face. He laughed again. How cute.
"Dude, you have something on your face."
"Really? Get it off." Lance smiled like this was the funniest thing heíd heard in ages. It probably was, Justin mused. They hadnít been out in weeks. Justin licked his finger and tried to focus his bleary eyes.
"Stop moving. I canít get it off if you keep moving like that," he said.
"Iím not moving. Your finger is." Lance replied, and then they were arguing, chuckling all the while, each of them insisting that the other was the one moving. The argument ended when Lance bit down on Justinís finger, sucking it into his mouth. As Lanceís tongue swirled around his finger, Justin jumped. Damn. That felt. it felt. good. Really good. Whoa.
Speaking around his finger, Lance said, "Letís go to the bathroom to wash it off." Justin nodded mutely, not wanting Lance to stop what he was doing.
Lance slid out of the booth and tugged on his hand.
"Come on, punk."
They stumbled their way down a dark hallway to a deserted bathroom. Lance peered into the mirror, got his finger wet, and wiped off the smudge. Suddenly deciding that if he stared at Lance for much longer he might do something heíd regret in the morning, Justin averted his eyes. When he shifted them back, Lance was right in front of him. Lance slowly put a hand on Justinís chest and pushed him against the wall. Oh God.
"Whatís the matter, Juju?" God, that voice. Silky smooth with the hard edge of a night spent drinking liquor, so deep it reverberated in his bones. Lance didnít wait for an answer. He leaned forward and brushed his lips against Justinís. When Justin didnít pull away, he fitted himself against Justin and kissed him deeply. Oh God times three. Justin suddenly remembered something he had heard teenies screaming at a concert. They had been jumping up and down, screaming "Oh my Lance" over and over. Oh my Lance, indeed.
Lanceís hand on his chest was slipping lower, sliding across the fabric on his stomach. Justin arched into the touch, moaning. He sucked on Lance tongue, locked his hands on Lanceís hips, as Lanceís hand slipped even lower. Justin moaned again as that wicked hand squeezed and began a brutal rhythm that had him gasping in seconds. Justinís head slammed against the tile with a crack he barely felt as Lance began to lick at his neck.
"Mmm, " he muttered, "You taste like strawberries." Lanceís mouth buzzed against his throat and Justin arched his back again. This was too good.
"Lance...Lance, you gotta stop. Lance-" He ended in a groan as Lanceís hand squeezed harder, faster. He grinned against Justinís throat and kept up his unflinching rhythm. Justin was arching non-stop now. He couldnít get enough of Lanceís touch. Justin briefly wondered what it would be like tomorrow before Lance did this amazing little twist with his thumb and Justin was coming, shuddering and gasping like his lungs were too small for his body.
Lance stepped away from him and Justin slid bonelessly down the wall. Oh...my...Lance.
"Come on," Lance held out a hand to him. "Letís go back to the hotel. We can have some more fun there." Then he smiled, as wicked as his hand had been. Now thereís an offer I canít refuse, Justin thought, and reached for his hand.