Lee (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
randomling) wrote2007-12-04 04:05 pm
randomling) wrote2007-12-04 04:05 pm
Digital Get Down (Lynn Harless Mix)
Written for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nopseud for testing the Make The Yuletide Gay system. Thanks to ephemera_pop for help on ideas.
Summary: Whatever will JC do after Justin's show? Have cybersex with Justin's mother, that's what.
Disclaimer: NOT REAL. Like, really not.
Warnings: Boybands, RPF, sex, and JC/Lynn. (If you are easily traumatised, probably best to stay away.)
Also: Unbeta'd.
Digital Get Down (Lynn Harless Mix)
It had been a great show. JC had met up with Justin backstage, but instead of being buzzed from the show, he was totally beat: with his hood pulled up and baseball cap jammed low on his head, he’d headed straight out, up through the back door of the hotel and to his suite, collapsing into bed without undressing or even turning on the light. JC had followed him, knowing that J would wake up within the hour, even if only to shower, undress and go back to sleep.
This left JC awake in Justin’s suite, wide awake, overexcited and horny. He’d really wanted to just grab Justin backstage and thrust him against a wall, but backstage was still relatively public, and he knew from experience it wasn’t a great idea to wake Justin for sex. So he’d have to find another way to keep himself amused - and quiet - for an hour or so.
That could be fun, too.
He kicked his shoes off, grabbed his laptop, and padded into the next room, where there was a table and a plug socket and WiFi. Settling himself into the not-too-comfortable chair, he waited for the computer to boot up and load his chat program. It took a couple of minutes, in which JC pulled off his jacket and opened the window a crack. He didn’t bother to turn the lights on: it was more comfortable, more intimate, like this.
>> hi there, stranger
He glanced at the username and back at the bedroom door before answering.
>> hey lynn
Lynn didn’t often chat online. Nor did JC, actually. The few times they’d done more than say hi over the internet, they’d done quite a lot more. It was, maybe, a little weird when he was in a “sleeping with Justin” phase. It was certainly a lot more weird when he was asleep in the next room. Maybe this should just be a short chat.
>> how are you doing?
>> pretty good. was at the show tonight
>> justin’s?
>> yeah. he rocks
>> he surely does
JC smiled: one thing he and Lynn Harless could agree on, more or less, was Justin. He was still figuring out what to say back, when another message appeared on the screen:
>> you want to talk a while?
He took a deep breath.
>> sure.
He liked Lynn. He liked Lynn a lot. She was a cool lady, and in the last couple of years, the three or four times they’d “talked a while” had been really great. All of that, though, had been before Justin had called him up in the middle of the night, breathless and hoarse, to ask if he remembered: the first time, holding the bus’s bathroom door shut with the weight of their bodies; that time in New Jersey, with JC’s hand over Justin’s mouth to keep Chris from waking up; the last time, desperate and sweaty and sad, in the wake of the words “I’m going solo”. Things were different now.
They were quiet for a bit. He wondered if Lynn knew about him and Justin. Justin had claimed several times to tell his mom everything, but in truth, JC wasn’t sure if she even knew Justin was gay. The number of people who knew that, JC figured, Justin could probably count on his fingers. He wasn’t even sure whether the other guys knew.
Lynn was typing again.
>> so.
>> so...? what do you want to talk about?
>> what do you think?
He waited: this was the moment he liked best, the moment where he waited and she took charge.
>> I want you to take your shirt off.
>> ok, it’s off
He glanced behind him again before stripping off his T-shirt. Justin wasn’t, as he’d half-expected, looming in the doorway. The bedroom door was ajar, but with all the lights off he couldn’t see into the bedroom at all.
>> are you wearing anything under your shirt?
>> no
>> good, ok.
>> tell me what to do
She was silent for long enough that he wondered what was happening back in Tennessee, or wherever Lynn was right now. Had someone showed up? Was she going to disappear? He sat, one hand resting on his thigh, the other at the keyboard. He was already half-hard, mind wandering on the subject of what Lynn was going to tell him to do to himself.
One guarantee was she would tell him to do it slowly.
>> put your hand on your neck
He lifted the hand that was on his thigh, his left.
>> imagine that I’m stroking your neck lightly with the tips of my fingers, do it yourself
>> ok
He closed his eyes and did that for a few seconds, brushing his fingers against his neck and imagining Lynn’s face. There was a flutter of anticipation in his stomach, and his jeans were pretty tight now across his crotch. The desire to reach down and touch himself was already there.
When he opened his eyes, there was a new message flashing on the screen.
>> good?
>> yeah
>> now, wet the tips of your fingers. I’m kissing your neck, real light and slow.
He obeyed, sucking briefly on his fingers and then gently stroking his neck. He was imagining tiny butterfly kisses, first on one side, then the other, then at the base of his throat. Lips just there, under his Adam’s apple, always made him shudder.
>> keep your fingers wet. move down slowly, over your collarbone and to your left nipple. pinch your nipple, like I’m sucking on it
Yeah. Oh, yeah. It was a force of will now, to keep from just unzipping his fly and jacking off while she told him to tease himself. But that would be breaking the rules of the game. He had to do what she said.
He did just that for a good ten minutes, slowly working his hand lower, then higher, then lower, to her instructions, keeping his fingers moist and his touches light. By then, he could hardly bear the pressure of his jeans over his groin, and the tips of his fingers just dipping under his waistband. She’d asked him to imagine her tongue, licking under his belly button as her hands strayed down to his hips. He typed, one handed:
>> lynn please
>> what do you want?
>> touch me!
She left him hanging for - he counted - twelve seconds before her reply appeared:
>> okay, unzip your fly
>> done
>> now just reach down... let me rub you. nice and slow, okay?
He gasped with pleasure and relief when he finally touched his dick, stifling a louder sound, not wanting to wake Justin. This time he kept his eyes on the screen as he started to jack himself, slower than he wanted to, because he knew that was how he wanted to play it. He gritted his teeth, half from pleasure, half from frustration.
>> okay, a little faster now
He moved his hand just a little faster, still below how he wanted it.
>> just a little faster
This time when he sped up, he couldn’t hold back a little grunt as everything got just a little out of control. His hips jerked involuntarily, and he took his right hand from the keyboard and covered his mouth with it.
>> okay, and now I’m going just as fast as you want it. squeezing you just a little.
And that was it. He took his hand away from his mouth long enough to type yeah yeah yeah, and watched the screen as he went for it, biting on the side of his hand to keep quiet.
>> I want you to come for me
>> yeah
It took just a couple of minutes.
>> coming
He barely managed to type it before it happened, splashing up against the underside of the table. Boy, he thought in the middle of his post-orgasm daze, he hoped housekeeping got a chance to clean up before Justin looked in here too closely.
When he could focus on the laptop again, her new message said:
>> thanks, jc. that was fun.
>> thanks. yeah. that was great
>> see you around
He wondered, vaguely, if she went offline and jerked off after the fact. He’d been known to jerk off himself, thinking about that, every now and then. Right now, though, he needed to find his shirt. And some Kleenex.
JC zipped up his jeans, started shutdown on the laptop, and stood. When he turned around he got a shock: Justin was standing in the bedroom doorway, holding JC’s balled-up T-shirt.
“How long have you been there?” JC asked.
Justin smiled. “Your orgasm woke me up, yo.” He peered past JC and laughed. “Cyber? Man, you couldn’t wait an hour?”
JC inclined his head, thankful for a fast laptop that shut down when he asked it to. Did Justin even talk to his mother online? “Sorry, man.”
“Nah, it’s cool. I’m not in the mood anyways. God, I sucked tonight.” Justin threw the T-shirt at JC; it hit him in the chest and rolled to the ground. “Man. You could at least try to catch it. Hey, I’m gonna shower and crash for real. You wanna clean up and come to bed?”
“Sure.”
In bed, JC wrapped himself around Justin like a blanket. “Baby, you rocked tonight.”
“Yeah?” Justin laced his fingers with JC’s and pulled him closer.
“Yeah. You know how horny you got me?”
Justin made a derisive noise. “Pretty easy to get you horny.”
JC didn’t say, You got me so horny I had cybersex with your mom. He did say, “So horny. I could do you right now.” He could, too. But Justin just guided JC’s hand up to his mouth and kissed it.
“In the morning, baby.”
nopseud for testing the Make The Yuletide Gay system. Thanks to ephemera_pop for help on ideas.Summary: Whatever will JC do after Justin's show? Have cybersex with Justin's mother, that's what.
Disclaimer: NOT REAL. Like, really not.
Warnings: Boybands, RPF, sex, and JC/Lynn. (If you are easily traumatised, probably best to stay away.)
Also: Unbeta'd.
Digital Get Down (Lynn Harless Mix)
It had been a great show. JC had met up with Justin backstage, but instead of being buzzed from the show, he was totally beat: with his hood pulled up and baseball cap jammed low on his head, he’d headed straight out, up through the back door of the hotel and to his suite, collapsing into bed without undressing or even turning on the light. JC had followed him, knowing that J would wake up within the hour, even if only to shower, undress and go back to sleep.
This left JC awake in Justin’s suite, wide awake, overexcited and horny. He’d really wanted to just grab Justin backstage and thrust him against a wall, but backstage was still relatively public, and he knew from experience it wasn’t a great idea to wake Justin for sex. So he’d have to find another way to keep himself amused - and quiet - for an hour or so.
That could be fun, too.
He kicked his shoes off, grabbed his laptop, and padded into the next room, where there was a table and a plug socket and WiFi. Settling himself into the not-too-comfortable chair, he waited for the computer to boot up and load his chat program. It took a couple of minutes, in which JC pulled off his jacket and opened the window a crack. He didn’t bother to turn the lights on: it was more comfortable, more intimate, like this.
>> hi there, stranger
He glanced at the username and back at the bedroom door before answering.
>> hey lynn
Lynn didn’t often chat online. Nor did JC, actually. The few times they’d done more than say hi over the internet, they’d done quite a lot more. It was, maybe, a little weird when he was in a “sleeping with Justin” phase. It was certainly a lot more weird when he was asleep in the next room. Maybe this should just be a short chat.
>> how are you doing?
>> pretty good. was at the show tonight
>> justin’s?
>> yeah. he rocks
>> he surely does
JC smiled: one thing he and Lynn Harless could agree on, more or less, was Justin. He was still figuring out what to say back, when another message appeared on the screen:
>> you want to talk a while?
He took a deep breath.
>> sure.
He liked Lynn. He liked Lynn a lot. She was a cool lady, and in the last couple of years, the three or four times they’d “talked a while” had been really great. All of that, though, had been before Justin had called him up in the middle of the night, breathless and hoarse, to ask if he remembered: the first time, holding the bus’s bathroom door shut with the weight of their bodies; that time in New Jersey, with JC’s hand over Justin’s mouth to keep Chris from waking up; the last time, desperate and sweaty and sad, in the wake of the words “I’m going solo”. Things were different now.
They were quiet for a bit. He wondered if Lynn knew about him and Justin. Justin had claimed several times to tell his mom everything, but in truth, JC wasn’t sure if she even knew Justin was gay. The number of people who knew that, JC figured, Justin could probably count on his fingers. He wasn’t even sure whether the other guys knew.
Lynn was typing again.
>> so.
>> so...? what do you want to talk about?
>> what do you think?
He waited: this was the moment he liked best, the moment where he waited and she took charge.
>> I want you to take your shirt off.
>> ok, it’s off
He glanced behind him again before stripping off his T-shirt. Justin wasn’t, as he’d half-expected, looming in the doorway. The bedroom door was ajar, but with all the lights off he couldn’t see into the bedroom at all.
>> are you wearing anything under your shirt?
>> no
>> good, ok.
>> tell me what to do
She was silent for long enough that he wondered what was happening back in Tennessee, or wherever Lynn was right now. Had someone showed up? Was she going to disappear? He sat, one hand resting on his thigh, the other at the keyboard. He was already half-hard, mind wandering on the subject of what Lynn was going to tell him to do to himself.
One guarantee was she would tell him to do it slowly.
>> put your hand on your neck
He lifted the hand that was on his thigh, his left.
>> imagine that I’m stroking your neck lightly with the tips of my fingers, do it yourself
>> ok
He closed his eyes and did that for a few seconds, brushing his fingers against his neck and imagining Lynn’s face. There was a flutter of anticipation in his stomach, and his jeans were pretty tight now across his crotch. The desire to reach down and touch himself was already there.
When he opened his eyes, there was a new message flashing on the screen.
>> good?
>> yeah
>> now, wet the tips of your fingers. I’m kissing your neck, real light and slow.
He obeyed, sucking briefly on his fingers and then gently stroking his neck. He was imagining tiny butterfly kisses, first on one side, then the other, then at the base of his throat. Lips just there, under his Adam’s apple, always made him shudder.
>> keep your fingers wet. move down slowly, over your collarbone and to your left nipple. pinch your nipple, like I’m sucking on it
Yeah. Oh, yeah. It was a force of will now, to keep from just unzipping his fly and jacking off while she told him to tease himself. But that would be breaking the rules of the game. He had to do what she said.
He did just that for a good ten minutes, slowly working his hand lower, then higher, then lower, to her instructions, keeping his fingers moist and his touches light. By then, he could hardly bear the pressure of his jeans over his groin, and the tips of his fingers just dipping under his waistband. She’d asked him to imagine her tongue, licking under his belly button as her hands strayed down to his hips. He typed, one handed:
>> lynn please
>> what do you want?
>> touch me!
She left him hanging for - he counted - twelve seconds before her reply appeared:
>> okay, unzip your fly
>> done
>> now just reach down... let me rub you. nice and slow, okay?
He gasped with pleasure and relief when he finally touched his dick, stifling a louder sound, not wanting to wake Justin. This time he kept his eyes on the screen as he started to jack himself, slower than he wanted to, because he knew that was how he wanted to play it. He gritted his teeth, half from pleasure, half from frustration.
>> okay, a little faster now
He moved his hand just a little faster, still below how he wanted it.
>> just a little faster
This time when he sped up, he couldn’t hold back a little grunt as everything got just a little out of control. His hips jerked involuntarily, and he took his right hand from the keyboard and covered his mouth with it.
>> okay, and now I’m going just as fast as you want it. squeezing you just a little.
And that was it. He took his hand away from his mouth long enough to type yeah yeah yeah, and watched the screen as he went for it, biting on the side of his hand to keep quiet.
>> I want you to come for me
>> yeah
It took just a couple of minutes.
>> coming
He barely managed to type it before it happened, splashing up against the underside of the table. Boy, he thought in the middle of his post-orgasm daze, he hoped housekeeping got a chance to clean up before Justin looked in here too closely.
When he could focus on the laptop again, her new message said:
>> thanks, jc. that was fun.
>> thanks. yeah. that was great
>> see you around
He wondered, vaguely, if she went offline and jerked off after the fact. He’d been known to jerk off himself, thinking about that, every now and then. Right now, though, he needed to find his shirt. And some Kleenex.
JC zipped up his jeans, started shutdown on the laptop, and stood. When he turned around he got a shock: Justin was standing in the bedroom doorway, holding JC’s balled-up T-shirt.
“How long have you been there?” JC asked.
Justin smiled. “Your orgasm woke me up, yo.” He peered past JC and laughed. “Cyber? Man, you couldn’t wait an hour?”
JC inclined his head, thankful for a fast laptop that shut down when he asked it to. Did Justin even talk to his mother online? “Sorry, man.”
“Nah, it’s cool. I’m not in the mood anyways. God, I sucked tonight.” Justin threw the T-shirt at JC; it hit him in the chest and rolled to the ground. “Man. You could at least try to catch it. Hey, I’m gonna shower and crash for real. You wanna clean up and come to bed?”
“Sure.”
In bed, JC wrapped himself around Justin like a blanket. “Baby, you rocked tonight.”
“Yeah?” Justin laced his fingers with JC’s and pulled him closer.
“Yeah. You know how horny you got me?”
Justin made a derisive noise. “Pretty easy to get you horny.”
JC didn’t say, You got me so horny I had cybersex with your mom. He did say, “So horny. I could do you right now.” He could, too. But Justin just guided JC’s hand up to his mouth and kissed it.
“In the morning, baby.”