| JC woke slowly, a luxury he didn't always have when they were on the road.
It was usually Chris who finally hauled him out of bed, bleary eyed and
complaining the whole time. Today, however, they actually had the day off.
A day off on the road, living out of hotel rooms, but it was a day off nonetheless.
JC moved to roll onto his side, just to see what time it was. There was
something absurdly enjoyable about noting the time and thinking 'Hah! You
have no control over me today!' at the clock. The roll was brought up short. In fact, it hardly even got started. JC blinked a couple of times and tugged on his wrist, which was lying above his head somewhere. It didn't move. He hadn't thrown it over his head as he slept, it had been tied there. Securely. "Oh, no," JC moaned quietly, knowing even before he tried that his other wrist was bound to the other bedpost just as tightly. And his feet. JC lifted his head and looked down at himself as though he needed confirmation. Oh yeah. Someone had snuck into his room while he slept and tied him spread-eagled to the bed. "I'm going to kill him," JC muttered, already suspecting Chris. With or without accomplices, he didn't know. A couple more experimental tugs only served to tighten the knots. Suddenly, JC really didn't want to be in bed. "ARGH!" he cried, frustrated, and let loose with a full- body struggle that did no good and probably looked really, really stupid. "JC?" JC relaxed and tried to look as though he hadn't just been thrashing around futiley. "Yeah, Lance?" "You, um, need a hand there?" JC craned his neck upwards and managed to catch sight of Lance standing in the connecting doorway between their rooms. He was wearing a worn t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants and looked fresh- scrubbed, as if he'd just gotten out of the shower. He probably had. JC's neck was starting to hurt, so he put his head down. "Yeah, help would be good," he sighed. "Thanks." "No problem. Just give me a second." Lance appeared at the end of the bed a moment later, holding a pair of scissors. "Where'd you find scissors?" JC asked. "They're a necessity when you're traveling with Chris," Lance responded dryly. "Especially lately. Every new gag he comes up with seems to involve something getting tied together, or tied up, or tied down." "Yeah, I noticed," JC had to laugh a little. "Whoa, Lance, wait!" he suddenly exclaimed. "What?" Lance asked, looking up from JC bound ankle, scissors poised. "You can't cut those." "Why not?" "Because, as you may have noticed, Chris used Justin's bandannas to tie me up. He'll kill us if we cut them up." "Oh. Right." Lance put the scissors away and looked at the knot in the red bandanna around JC's ankle. "I don't know if I can untie these, Jace. They're pretty tight." "At least try before you use the scissors," JC insisted. Lance shrugged and went to work on the knot. A couple minutes later he was still trying to work and end free. JC sighed. "Lance, see if you can get my hands undone. Then I can try my own ankles." "All right," Lance agreed, and climbed onto the bed so he could reach the bandannas around JC's wrists. Climbed onto the bed and knelt right between JC's spread legs. JC closed his eyes and tried desperately not to think about Lance kneeling between his thighs, leaning over him to untie his wrists... It suddenly occurred to JC that for all he knew, Lance had been the one to tie him up. A shiver ran through JC. An image of how they must look at that moment played itself out on the inside of his eyelids and he bit back a moan, seeing Lance leaning over him, mere inches of air between their bodies, himself tied to the bed. He couldn't move if he wanted to. JC's growing arousal spiked at the thought. Lance shifted on the bed. JC's eyes snapped open. "Sorry," Lance said, really sounding regretful, "I couldn't reach your wrists from be...from where I was." And this is better? JC wanted to say, because now Lance was...straddling...his...waist. JC shifted nervously and accidentally brushed against one of Lance's thighs. JC caught his breath. Lance was leaning so close that JC couldn't help brushing up against him. Warmth radiated off of Lance. JC could feel it through the worn wifebeater he'd slept in, and closed his eyes to keep himself from staring. He shifted a little. "JC," Lance said, sounding breathier than usual, "stop squirming. You're making the knots...tighter." JC couldn't help it - his eyes snapped open. And looked directly into Lance's. They froze, unable to break the gaze, Lance leaning low over JC, his fingers on the bandanna knotted about JC's right wrist. For a moment JC was terrified, convinced that Lance could tell by looking into his eyes just how turned on JC was at this moment. What must Lance think of him, lying here getting hot off of the thought he was at Lance's mercy...? Yet still JC couldn't look away from that intense gaze. Lance's eyes darkened a shade. Entranced, JC licked his lips unconsciously. The knot Lance had been working on had just about come loose before their eyes had met and Lance's fingers had stilled. Now his grip tightened for a moment around JC's wrist. JC caught his breath as Lance left his hand bound and trailed his fingers down JC's arm. Lance caught JC's moan with his lips. JC surrendered his mouth to Lance gladly, welcoming the kiss, deepening it quickly with an intensity of need that left him physically aching. The narrow space between their bodies closed. JC moaned aloud as Lance relaxed against him, revealing his own arousal. The weight pressing JC into the mattress was delicious. He pressed his head back against the bed, arching his body up against Lance. The pull of the bonds against JC's wrists only made him harder. "I think," Lance murmured, his deep voice vibrating through his own chest and trembling against JC's, "I like you like this." His hands trailed up JC's sides, sliding beneath his shirt and playing teasingly over the sensitive skin of his ribs. "Tied up," Lance slid down, his hardness rubbing over JC's belly, "for me," he rocked his hips hard against JC's, tearing a cry of pleasure from him, "to touch," Lance rubbed his thumbs over JC's nipples, prompting the buds to tighten in pleasure, "to kiss," JC whimpered when Lance laid his lips against his throat, "anyway...anywhere...I please." "Yes," JC moaned, not thinking anymore, just reacting, running on instinct. He didn't even flinch at the cold metal against his skin when Lance used the scissors to cut off his shirt and boxers, didn't notice when Lance stripped off his own clothes. He just cradled Lance between his thighs and trembled at his touch. Lance stretched out on top of JC and rocked against him, slowly at first and then faster, harder. "Oh, God, Jace," Lance moaned, clinging to JC's shoulders as he moved. "Take me, Lance," JC murmured, words broken with pleasure, his thoughts coming uncensored. His voice dropped lower, quieter. "Own me." JC's whispered plea broke Lance's control. He came, hard and long, and lay trembling against JC for some time before he realized that they'd come together, in the same moment. When he actually felt coherent, Lance picked up the scissors again and sacrificed Justin's bandannas. He was half afraid that JC would flee when he had his freedom, but instead he curled around Lance closely and hummed softly, as though purring. Lance tentatively wrapped his own arms around JC and couldn't help wondering what the morning would bring. |