So I went to bed at midnight, and wrote til 2am. This is a show-able bit. The rest is to follow. :)

With thanks to julad for the marvellous pretty pretty template code-y thing that has just proved to me that I'm a dork, with all the tempate code-y thing loving properties that entails, and to georgina, for this wisdom, which I feel is particularly apt here:
georgina: Less talk, more sex.
georgina: That's the ticket.

Joey woke up with someone groping him, which was all great except he hadn't gone to sleep next to someone inclined to give him a quick feel, let alone a long, thoughtful exploration of his thigh. In fact, he was pretty sure he'd gone to sleep alone.

"...at," he attempted, then cleared his throat, trying not to arch into the touches. "What's, hey," he said, doing better second time, though still lacking that early morning eloquence that Chris always seemed to pin down so disturbingly fast. His eyes were glued shut. One of his hands was whited out with pins-and-needles. It was way too early for messing around, he thought loudly, tempted to push this girl off and go back to sleep and apologise in the proper, civilised, 11am-side of the morning, ignoring the way that certain more-volatile parts of his body were beginning to feel quite happy with the early rise.

"Good, you're awake," Joey heard JC say, and his cock leapt, and shit, this was weirder still; not only was some strange girl sitting on top of him, but JC was watching? watching them get ready to freak? and then she was leaning down over him, nuzzling his cheek and then his mouth, and the scratch of her facial hair was delicious on his lips and--

"Jayce?" Joey yelled, sitting bolt upright, eyes snapping open, mouth tingling like soft fire, and JC rode the turbulence easily, hands closing over where Joey's fists had landed on his waist, eyes half-shut in worrying indolence. Joey pushed at him frantically, then hissed, "Shit," as JC reared against him, ass sliding purposefully over the morning heat in Joey's crotch. He was wearing a sweatshirt, some ludicrously thin shorts, and a - well, not exactly a smile. A leer, Joey had a feeling it was called.

"Ah, Joey," JC murmured, eyes closing even more, til only the merest sliver of glitter showed through his lashes. His hips were moving restlessly, the succulent heat of his ass spread perfectly over Joey's cock, his fingers working their way into Joey's fists, his chest arching gorgeously in Joey's hands.

"Get off me," Joey said, rogue inflection making it into a question as JC's ass slid harder, and JC shook his head and leaned over him, tongue swiping Joey's lower lip, mouth hot, sultry-spiced. Joey had a feeling his own tongue was pretty rancid, but JC didn't seem to care, licking into his mouth twice, then again, until Joey was forced to blurt, "get off me," this time with random emphasis, to buy himself enough time to get his head sorted. Can't do this.

"No way," JC said, more of a promise, undercut with a moan. "You're so good under me, want you, gotta," he added, and Joey was used to JC's sentence structure - opposite of Chris, he sometimes perfected his eloquence by about 2am, by which point the rest of them were talking crap instead - and he got what JC meant, understood completely.


"webrokeup," JC said, nuzzling the corner of his mouth, and Joey nodded hastily and tried to dislodge him and ignored wildly the way his own hips were pushing up now, the way his hands had moved down JC's chest until they could almost push under his clothes and grab at his skin--

"yeah," he said, still nodding, which confused JC's mouth for about two seconds and then seemed to impel it to lick at Joey's throat instead, "but he'd still skin me alive for putting my hands on you," wilfully ignoring that his hands were very much on JC, that he was already in the realms of a scalping-worthy crime.

"He's allgone!"

"Yeah," Joey said, trying to sound soothing or something, because JC must be upset or something, that was why he was trying it on so abruptly, must be upset that Justin and him weren't together, that Justin was, yeah, allgone. "Do you wanna talk...?"

JC's hands snapped to his chin, steered Joey's face up, until Joey was staring into fierce dark eyes, hazy with dilated pupil. "Do I look like I wanna talk?" JC demanded, hot joy in his eyes, grinding down hard on Joey's cock as he said it, leaving Joey in pretty much no doubt.

"...no?" Joey hedged, and JC grinned widely and pounced, tongue shoving deep and intoxicating in Joey's mouth, hands pushing under the t-shirt Joey slept in, rucking it up high enough for JC to knead his chest - and then his hands were veering down again, attacking the waistband of Joey's shorts, wrestling it down as he kicked off his own shorts and then Jesus and fuck and holy shit, because JC on top of him was sort of resistible, but JC on top of him mostly-naked cock-to-cock wasn't something Joey could ever imagine turning down.

JC's hands scrabbled with his own sweatshirt, flung it randomly away, then slid feverishly back over Joey's chest, shoving him flat on his back, getting a hand between them to rub Joey's cock against his own.

"This isn't, we can't," Joey gasped, dry heat storming through his body, but he was wrestling with his own t-shirt, getting his arms out the sleeves and then abandoning it in favour of getting his hands on JC's back, of pulling JC down hard by the ass, of feeling the papery heat of JC's skin turn damp under his palms.

"mm-mm," JC muttered, and it sounded a little like can too to Joey's ears, but Joey was probably projecting like hell, and damnit, Jayce, Jayce-- Jayce?

"Hey, what?" Joey said, because the writhing muscled bundle in his arms had gone still, and then JC was moving purposefully, sliding his whole body over Joey's cock, and then, oh, no, no way, moving to kneel over him, his hand reaching behind him to guide the head of Joey's dick against the crease of his ass. "Hey," Joey said, again, but this time it sounded considerably more cracked.

JC was smiling down at him, hair a crazy mess and eyes gleaming, and now he was nodding, smile widening, and then his whole face was changing as he started to press back, onto, down.

"Jesus," Joey hissed, as the inexorable slow weight of JC made the head of his cock gradually the happiest it'd been in weeks, and JC hadn't had any prep, surely, and it was tight as hell - and then Joey registered that no, there was slickness, definitely something, and wasn't painfully tight, just mind-numbingly, so he must've already done something about it.

Done. something. about it, Joey heard, staring at JC's rapt face, his closed eyes and bitten lower lip and sharp-tendoned throat, imagining JC's fingers inside himself, God, and then it was getting easier as JC forged lower, the wet heat pressure speeding down his cock, flavoured by JC's breathing, loud and like relief.

Joey's hand shivered at JC's hip, not sure what to do; his main impulse was to grab his hipbones and shove up hard, but that was closely followed by one to throw him off the bed and hurtle to the showers, so he wasn't sure how much he should listen to the impulse thing right now. His neck was suddenly sweltering, still swaddled in his own t-shirt, which felt damp and over-thick now, like it was tightening every time his panting quickened. He tore it off one-handed, threw it away, and felt no closer to knowing what to do than before.

When JC's ass touched Joey's pelvis, JC opened his eyes again. "That is what I needed," he purred, and his voice was more precise than it'd been since Joey'd woken up.

"Right," Joey said, tingling fiercely all up inside his cock, like it was wrapped in the sensation of white noise. The rest of his body was merely aching, veins pumping champagne.

"It's not enough," JC assured him, breathing deeply, vision going cloudy again as he pushed down, sitting solidly on Joey's pelvis, "but it's good, man. Feels good."

"Uh huh," Joey said, then swore as JC bounced experimentally. "No," he warned, "too tight for that," which was damned articulate compared with the caveman grunt he actually wanted to vocalise, but JC still glared at him, did it again, slower and more nasty, like he was proving a point.

Joey's brain dissolved into a sloshing heat in his stomach, and he groaned loudly. "Stop, okay-- gotta, gotta go slow like this."

JC was shaking his head before Joey'd finished speaking. "I need it more," he was growling, and Joey almost snapped that he was sorry, okay, if he wasn't up to standard, but if JC'd spent longer doing the prep then he'd be able to bounce all he liked - and then JC was moving restlessly again, and Joey grabbed his hips, twisting his cock up hard and pulling JC down on it, gratified by JC's delighted groan.

"Like that?"

"Yeah," JC panted, head back, nodding helplessly, licking his lips.

"My pace," Joey said, and JC nodded some more, then pitched sideways, making Joey squawk at the extra pressure before he slipped free. "--oi," Joey began, before getting it, rolling over, finishing neatly between JC's thighs, getting his cock back inside before JC'd even got one knee over Joey's shoulder.

Still tight as hell, he caught himself thinking, as JC moaned appreciatively and crossed his ankles behind Joey's head, but God, so much more wieldly, JC's ass in the vice of his hands, JC's chest heaving every time he pushed his cock inside.

JC's hands crossed above his own head, scrabbling at the pillow - looking for a some bars to grab, looked like - and eventually settled for digging his fingers down the back of the mattress, and the leverage of JC's ass suddenly increased threefold; JC was driving up feverishly, forehead drawn into an artful frown, like he was totally fucking mesmerised by the thorough sweet thud of Joey's pelvis against his ass.

"Ah, yeah," JC bit off, all the muscles in his body going rigid, and Joey thought, aha, yes, fin, but no, because JC was still meeting him stroke for stroke, still keening softly with it, just that now he was trembling and obscenely tight all over, and now Joey was having great problems not finishing it himself.

And his cock was still hard, Joey saw - that vital clue as to whether he'd come or not, ah yes - and really, really, Joey wasn't gonna last much longer, so he jeopardised his control and reached round with one hand, slicking it in the sweat on JC's belly, wrapping it round his cock and trying to count off the beats to keep himself sane.

It took thirty-eight before JC made a strangled noise and quaked against him, thirty-eight with Joey's arm locked round JC's sweaty thighs to keep his rhythm, thirty-eight before Joey could ungrit his teeth and let go and stop corkscrewing back every other second to save himself from cresting the wave, and then he was free and had to work it back up, because now JC wasn't working with him, wasn't providing resistance, had turned slippery and pliant in his hands.

A few testing thrusts, finding out JC's new boundaries, and then a few more, more brutal, as he realised JC didn't seem to have any, and then he muttered, "Jesus," as it sank in that the pliancy meant he could lie flat on top of him with JC's legs at an unholy angle, JC's throat beneath his mouth, the sharp musk of JC's come slick between their chests.

He let his cock move harder, and JC moaned softly, blissfully, like Joey was giving him a great massage or had given him hot chocolate after a snowball fight - and Joey swallowed as he realised that really nothing, nothing was gonna break JC like this, that his hips could snap whitehot fury and JC would just croon to himself, and then he was letting himself go and the sweet peak was careening down towards him, and then there, there, perfect; that was the way.

He pulled out the moment he got his breath back, distractedly pleased he hadn't passed out. What a - what a way to start the morning, he interrupted his brain, unable to stop grinning. No complacent thoughts allowed. He was gonna be screaming delight in his head all day, see if he wasn't.

"Yaaa," JC mumbled, as Joey got up to find some water, feeling totally energised but in need of some toothpaste. "Muffin."

"Huh?" Joey said, pausing on his way to the bathroom, glancing back. JC had flipped over, was face down without a thought for Joey's sheets, snoring softly.

Wow, Joey thought, shaking his head. The rest of the guys were gonna kill him if he'd gone and ruined JC for the whole day. Un oh. At least the sheets were something for the hotel staff to deal with, not him.

Still, he thought, brushing his teeth brutally and having some trouble because his mouth wouldn't uncurve from its monster grin and thus he was kinda foamy and dribbly, JC probably wouldn't be ruined, since Justin never used to ruin him, and they used to have a helluva lot more sex than one teeny fuckette first thing before breakfast.

There was a knock at the door as he was considering how Justin would define what they'd just done, and wondering if he should be more repentant. As it was, uh, no. He really wasn't. Justin and Jayce broke up all on their own, more than twenty-four hours ago, and if this had been JC's idea of a rebound, then it was Joey that should be protesting, not Justin at all. So there.

He grabbed a flannel, soaked it, wiped off the worst of the stickiness, then slung a towel round his waist. "Yeah?"

"'S locked," Lance's voice came, indignantly, and Joey grinned to himself. JC locked it? Foresighted boy.

"Coming," Joey called, walking back into the main room, amused all over by the way JC wasn't displaying any signs of noticing the shouting going on over his head. And his back. And his ass. And. Yeah.

Lance hurried in, face all worried, and Joey wondered belatedly if he should've warned him that the suite was fitting two this morning, and then Lance was saying, "Have you seen JC?" in a worried sort of voice, "We've lost him - we didn't wanna wake you but we've looked all over and--"

"Um," Joey said.

"Oh," Lance said, gaze latching on to JC curled tightly beneath Joey's covers, the undeniable golden nakedness of his shoulders peeping out from beneath his tangle of dark curls. "You... already found him."

"Well," Joey said, wondering if he'd done bad. "More like, he found me?"

"Mm-hm," Lance said, slowly tearing his eyes away from JC's tousled head, then giving Joey an apparently helpless once-over, stark envy going quick through his eyes. "Well, that figures, actually."

"Is Justin gonna kill me?"

"Um," Lance said, tilting his head. "Well, lessee. I doubt it. He shouldn't. It's not really your fault."

"No?" Joey said, raising his eyebrows, wondering if he should wake JC up, get him to pass on exactly how much fault it was, exactly how much Joey'd protested before letting him have his way.

"Uh," Lance said, "no. Not really. Um. See, the thing is," he said, audibly trying to keep his voice matter-of-fact, "we kinda got a problem. We were letting you sleep, but since now, since, uh."

"Spit it out," Joey said suspiciously, not liking this at all. "I mean," he added, thinking how bad could it be, JC seeking some Joey lovin' on the sly, voicing it, "how bad could it be," at the exact same moment that Lance said,

"JC's in heat."

end part one. Part two.