Okey Dokey, Here we go with the not so fun disclaimer thingy: I do not know Nsync. Whether or not Justin and/or Lance are gay really is none of my business. But for now, I can pretend that they are because I'm a writer and that's what I do. Secondly, if you are under 18 and/or materials such as these are illegal in your area go away or just don't get caught. :) Now, lastly, please don't steal my stories. I've worked hard on this. Now, the fun stuff.
Things Don't Always Turn Out That Way By Pandora
I swear I told him no more. But still, I hear someone slide the key in the hole and push open the door to my hotel room. I told him tonight, no more. I was sick of being hurt. The room is so silent you can almost hear him walk across the thick plush carpet. Maybe its not him, maybe its one of the other guys come into my room to talk. It could be. They do that from time to time. So maybe if I lie here and tell myself I don't recognize the sound of his walk and the steadiness of his breathing, it won't be him. It'll be JC or even Chris. Hell, maybe its Joey. But they would have said something by now. Even if it was something as simple as "hey man, you awake?" They would have said something. But I'm pretending I don't notice that. Because if I notice that it really will be him.
I can't hear him walking anymore, but I still hear his even breathing. He's standing on the other side of the bed and my back is to him. I can feel him staring at me and almost hear him lick his lips and sigh as if he really wants to say something. But I'm asleep. So he won't say anything. Maybe he'll just leave. Maybe he'll realize I was serious this time. And he can just go back to her. Back where he belongs. He's in love with her, not me. He even told me that. He told me he could never feel that way about another man. Oh, God forbid. I don't love him. No, not at all. Even if my heart and mind both tell me different, I don't love him. Of course not. Now I'm noticing how hard it is to lie to yourself. But I'm sleeping, and he's still standing there, staring at me.
Maybe he really will go away. Maybe his common sense will kick in and something in that little brain of his will tell him I wasn't kidding. I don't want him tonight. Or tomorrow night. I know I'll always have his body. Always. He told me that too. But even if the sex is great and I love that Adonis-like body, I want something more. Something like what he gives her. His heart. That's what I want. No matter how hard I try to convince myself otherwise, he already has mine. And I want it back. I want to quit pining over him and I want to quit wishing that he'd stay with me. But that's just ridiculous. He'll always go back to her. He loves her. Her, not me. I'm being melodramatic. Lets be a man about this shall we. Honestly, I want him to fuck me again more then I want his heart. Even if that really isn't true, it sounded great.
But I know he's not going to go away because I feel him crawl into bed next to me. Why did he have to do that? Couldn't he just stay standing there, staring at me? No, of course not. He always has to try and get what he wants. I know what he wants. And its going to be damn hard to convince myself that I don't want that too.
I'm still pretending to be asleep, so maybe there's still hope that he'll go away and leave me alone, again, like he always does.
His arms slide around my waist and he spoons against me. He had to do that. His hands meet at my stomach and he spreads his fingers out over my lower torso as if to tell me that I'm his, as dumb as that sounds. I'm still trying to pretend that I'm asleep, but he starts to kiss the back of my neck, nipping at my ear every so often. I shiver involuntary. Now he knows I'm not asleep
"Lance..." He whispers, almost like a moan, in my ear.
I sigh, "What do you want, Justin?" As if the answer's not obvious.
"You." He whispers huskily. I know that already. I can feel it. Pressing into my ass.
He runs one hand up and down my body, and almost instantly my body reacts to his touches and kisses. And I know, without looking, that he's grinning like a cheshire cat, because he knows what he's doing to me.
"Lance, please look at me." He mumbles seductively into my neck.
I sigh again. "Justin..." My voice sounds whinier then I intended it to. But he takes it as an invitation and not a warning to back off. He rolls me onto my back and rests himself on his elbow so he can look at me. His eyes burn into my own, and I can't stand to see the burning lust in those deep sapphire pools so I look away. He kisses my forehead, and my cheeks, and as his lips hover over my own I quickly turn my head. That took al the self control I had.
Now he sighs, "Please, Lance, I need you." He always says that. He doesn't really mean it, he's just horny, and if I won't put out, she will. He can ALWAYS go back to her. In the end he always does. But the way he said it, the way there was almost a touch of love in his voice, makes me almost want to cry. So when he rests his hand on the side of my face and turns my head back toward him, I don't resist. And this time I don't resist his lips. I've always loved his kisses.
No matter how urgent or horny he may be, his kisses are still soft and gentle. Like velvet on velvet. He always tastes so sweet like you could just eat him up. I don't resist his tongue either, as it slides across my closed lips and gently parts them. Though his kiss is still soft, his tongue is insistent and commanding. And now I'm just putty in his hands. His hands roam my body, up and down the sides of my bare chest, across the waistband of my boxers. Now I have no self control. I couldn't resist him if I wanted to. But the he's causing my body to react, I don't want to.
With his lips still pressed possessively to mine, his roaming hand cups the growing erection in my boxers. My heart is screaming at me to stop. That this will only cause me more pain and heartache. My mind is telling me to just give in. Either he'll do it or I'll do it; either way it'll be done.
He pulls his lips from mine and stares into my eyes. I know he wants to say sorry. His mouth even forms the words, but I simply shake my head. He knows now that I'm not going to resist him, even though I should, just to save what's left of my heart for someone who really can love me "like that." So I look away. At the wall, the ceiling, the TV, anywhere but those eyes.
I swear I never felt him move, but somehow he nestled himself between my legs and slid my boxers off my body and onto the floor. I didn't even realize it until I felt warm lips engulf the throbbing head of my cock. I try so hard not to moan, but his lips slide farther down my engorged member and the warm confines of his mouth intensify the pleasure and I can't help but moan. Now he slowly withdraws before taking it all in again, to the base, doing wicked things with his tongue, playing with my balls, fingering my hole; how am I suppose to resist this?
Somewhere I lost myself in the pleasure. He's so good at this, I wonder if she knows that. He hums softly in the back of his throat and I arch my back to him. I'm so close, I can feel it. He can take me to the edge of indescribable pleasure and throw me over. I give him no warning before I scream in delight and come into his mouth. He takes in every bit of it.
Now I'm trying to come down from my high, and trying to convince myself again that I don't want him. My heart is screaming at me again, telling me what an idiot I am for letting him do this to me. I should have resisted those lips, that touch, those hands, that voice.
I'm lost deep in thought again, but I'm wrenched back into reality when he plunges his dick deep into me. He fills me up, completes me. And I hate him for it.
I feel myself harden again as he thrusts slowly in and out of me, every now and then leaning to kiss my face. His hand wraps around my now rock hard member and strokes it in perfect rhythm with his thrusts. He gasps my name as his thrusts increase, so he's slamming harder and faster into my ass.
I feel myself come close to the edge for the second time tonight and I know he's almost there as well. The feeling starts at my toes and rushes up through my spine curling its way back down my body before settling in my groin in an intense, indescribable ray of pleasure. At that moment I release my juices onto both our stomachs and Justin releases into me, screaming out my name, taking us both over the edge together.
He collapses on top of me, gasping for breath. Neither of us move to clean ourselves up. He simply rests his head on my shoulder and wraps his arms around me. Within minutes he's asleep. I sigh and wrap my arms around him. At least tonight he's staying with me and not going back to her. But tomorrow I'll tell him. I'll tell him I'm serious this time. No more. And he'll be back tomorrow night. And he'll still love her, and not me. And I'll never get over him. Or, maybe, he'll tell me tomorrow that he really does love me and not her. And that he always has. And tomorrow we'll start our new life, together. But that'll never happen. Because, things don't always turn out that way.
Ok, this is the first time I've ever let anyone read something like this that I've written. I'm really shy about letting people read my work. I'm working on a follow up to this story though. Please, email me and tell me what you thought. I can handle criticism. But be gentle. sweet_music5@hotmail.com
Thanks for reading :) Pandora