It Happened One Summer (3/?)
By: LD Griffin and Jess
Rating: R to NC-17
Feedback: Either Sleepychick101@yahoo.com (LD's address)
or
XTCsCrUb1@aol.com (Jess' address)
Authors' Notes: This story is a collaboration. The second chapter is written by LD, edited by Jess. Each chapter will begin with a note of who wrote it.
Dedication: To Daniel Day-Lewis, just because Jess likes you:
`Well, this is definitely not how I had planned to be spending my evening,' JC thought as he quietly pulled the bed covers over Justin's body.
As they had been making their way to JC's apartment for Advil, Justin had passed out cold, right there on the street. JC had picked him up and carried him the other two blocks to his apartment and up the flight of stairs, being careful to not awaken him as he laid him down in his bed.
Sighing, JC went into his bathroom and turned on the sink. Leaning over the basin, he sighed, and splashed the cool water onto his forehead then gently rubbed it down the rest of his face. He reached into the medicine cabinet and pulled out his toothbrush and toothpaste. Popping the lid off of the toothpaste tube, he squirted the desired amount of Colgate Total Fresh Stripe onto his brush and then placed it in his mouth. His right hand scratched his ear as he began to clean his teeth in an up and down circular motion, only pausing to spit toothpaste into the sink every once in awhile before continuing to polish his pearly whites.
After spitting out the last bit of toothpaste, he turned the faucet back on, rinsing his mouth and brush out. He put the brush and toothpaste back into the cabinet and smiled one big smile into the mirror before making his way back into the bedroom.
The curtains were all shut tightly; the only light in the room the gentle glow of the Care Bear night light his younger brother had given him as a gag gift. JC walked over to the closet and slipped off his shoes and undid his belt. Moving towards the shelves, he scooted the loafers onto the shoe tree and hung the belt on the belt rack. Undoing the zipper to his chinos, he peeled them off his body and threw them into the dry-cleaning basket. Last to go was his polo shirt, which he pulled over his head and discarded into the regular laundry pile.
JC, now just in his boxers, pulled an old t-shirt out of the drawer and slipped it on over his head. Heading out of the closet, he closed the door with his foot, walked back over to the bed, pulled down the covers, and slipped in.
Justin lay comatose next to him, his soft breathing barely audible in the silent room. JC turned over to look at him and brushed a stray curl off his face with his index finger. Sighing, JC flipped back over and closed his eyes, trying to will himself to sleep.
"Your balls are so big, JC. Don't they just feel fucking heavy; all that unused come stuck in there waiting to be set free?"
JC's eyes popped open and he rolled back onto his other side, expecting to see Justin smiling brightly at him, only to find Justin sleeping soundly. Picking up his left hand, he ran it in front of Justin's face and waved, trying to see if he could gather a reaction. Nothing. JC rolled back over and closed his eyes again.
"Can you feel them tighten? Does it just make you ache with deep pain knowing that you want to let them explode from your body and spasm out as you shoot loads and loads of come all over me?"
JC jumped straight up in bed and looked down straight at Justin. Still sleeping. He pulled the covers up to his chin and sat waiting to see if something would happen again.
"Come on baby; let me make you come, JC."
JC sat staring at Justin in absolute shock, who was obviously talking in his sleep, oblivious. They'd had one night together. One night, that was all. And on top of that, Justin had not said a single word to him the entire time they fucked. He didn't even really make much of a sound when he came.
`Where in the fucking world is this coming from?' JC thought, lying back down on his pillow, face now staring up at the ceiling.
The sound of Justin moaning and gasping echoed through the room and JC's mind as Justin moved slightly in the bed. The mattress rippled underneath Justin's body, as Justin's arm slipped up onto JC's pillow.
"God, JC...yes, right there, make me come for you."
JC put his hand over his mouth, biting down hard onto his skin. The temperature in the room seemed to have risen greatly in a matter of moments and JC's skin was beginning to flush. Justin rolled back over onto his side of the bed, moaning and groaning as he went until he let out one last audible gasp and the distinct scent of semen soiling Justin's jeans could be smelled in the air.
Justin rolled over one more time, mumbled something incoherent into his arm, then started snoring loudly. JC took his hand off his mouth and let out a deep breath. He lay still for awhile longer until he was sure there was no more wild proclamations of sexual fantasies, then shut his eyes and drifted off into a restless sleep.
JC woke up to the sun shining directly into his eyes through open curtains. Squinting he looked over at the window and cursed softly under his breath.
"I could have sworn those were shut last night when I went to bed. Jesus, that is bright."
Yawning, he reached back over his head and stretched, feeling his back arch into it as he went. He rotated his neck and scratched his head, closing his eyes as he did this.
`Fuck, what a night. I feel like I have hardly slept at all. Well if it hadn't been for Q having that wet dream...'
JC shot up straight and looked over to the other side of the bed, which had the blankets neatly folded, but no Q. Instead of the man there was now a few pieces of paper lying nicely against the pillow.
He reached over and picked up the note, which was scribbled in a foreign script.
Thanks for letting me crash here last night. Here's your fifty back. I think we're about even now. See ya.
-Q.
JC picked up the other object that was on top of the pillow and saw that it was indeed the money he'd paid Justin the other night for his services. Confused, JC rubbed his temples with his thumb and forefinger and got out of bed.
"I just don't understand it. He left you the money you paid him on your pillow?"
"Yep. Woke up this morning and there was a note with this bill lying there. I mean, he fucked me, Joe. I paid him for the fuck, and he gave me the money back. And he even gave me a discount on the original fuck. It makes no sense...he's like a hooker with feelings." JC held the cordless up to his ear as he flipped channels on his TV.
Joey had been his best friend since kindergarten, and even though he lived completely across the country in LA, they never forgot to call each other once a day.
"Well, you did let him crash at your place last night. I wouldn't let some dirty street boy ever sleep in my home...even if they did pass out on the street."
"I don't know, man. He doesn't seem like your average rent boy. It's as if he's doing this because he wants to do it, for spare cash. I mean, you should have seen the way he approached me. He has this arrogance about him that tells me this isn't his real gig, just a side one for extra cash."
"Oh, come on, Jayce. Even if he is doing this for a good cause, he still sells himself. Don't you think you could do a bit better than that?"
"He was careful. We used a condom. Besides, he was a great fuck."
"Well, whatever. You know what you're doing. And even if it is paid sex, it's about time you got laid man. I mean, seriously, when was the last time you got your rocks off?"
"Um, it would have been spring break when I went to Cancun with my family. I got laid for two days straight by Julio."
"Damn JC! That was early March. No wonder you didn't mind him staying over another night." Joey laughed on the other end.
"You can laugh all you want, but I don't know. I'm going to try to find him and give him his money back. He earned it; it's not mine. It's his."
"You are seriously demented, dude. But hey, whatever floats your fucking boat. I got to run, audition today for yet another Borden commercial."
"I would have thought you'd be tired of playing a cow by now. Even if you are one, anyway."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Keep it to yourself lover boy. I'll catch you later. I'm outtie."
The line went dead and JC clicked the "off" button on his end. Setting the phone down on the coffee table, he kicked his shoes off and set his sock-clad feet on top of the glass.
He continued flipping channels, searching for anything that was of any interest at this time in the mid-afternoon.
"Soap opera, soap opera, talk show, talk show, soap opera, anime, soap opera, talk show, Full House re-run, soap opera, ah...HBO."
Settling on a pretty new episode of "The Sopranos" he sunk back into the couch and let the remote drop from his grasp.
The TV flickered in the room with images of Dr. Melfi and Tony having one of their therapy sessions. JC started grimacing at what the psychologist was saying to his patient.
"For God's sake doesn't anyone ever do research on this kind of thing? I mean, I know that some doctors might treat their patients like that, but they'd probably get sued for malpractice."
JC picked the remote back up and kept scanning channels until he decided upon some re-runs of "Law and Order".
"Now this show is good. At least they have realistic situations."
JC's mind closed off to the real world as he settled back in his chair to watch Carrie Lowell and Sam Waterston crack yet another case. But in the back of his mind, his thoughts were stuck on the prior nights festivities, with the sounds and words of Q replaying in his memory like a broken record.