Breathless
by saabira
Copyright February 2002
“You leave me breathless/ but it’s okay”
You get caught
up watching them at the foot of the bed. Howie is sprawled, boneless against
the footboard. Everything is in shadows in this dark room, but you can still
make out the shape of Chris’s head- bobbing up and down in Howie's lap. You can
see the sharp contrast of Chris’s fingers making their mark on Howie’s hips.
You can see the dark pink shine of Howie’s mouth, fallen open with his
soundless moaning.
It’s good; you're supposed to see. That’s why they're there. For
you to see. Chris slides one hand down to clasp Howie’s thigh, pushing it to
the side, spreading Howie’s legs farther.
Your cock is so hard, straining brutally at the seam of your jeans.
You brush your hand across it softly, doing more harm than good. It pulses and
you groan. You don't touch it again. You’re waiting.
This hotel room is up high enough that you can't hear the music
from the party downstairs, and the wet slurp of Chris’s mouth is clearly, erotically
audible.
Howie threads his fingers into Chris’s hair. You know from
experience that he's not pulling or tugging; he just wants to touch him. Howie
needs touch to be sure of things. Chris shifts his head quickly- you can only
imagine the things he's doing with his tongue. Whatever they are they make
Howie moan from deep in his throat. You know he won't last much longer.
JC comes back into the room just then, and you are reluctant to
drag your eyes from Chris and Howie to watch him cross the room. He’d gone to
retrieve lube from his room and he tosses it to you as he approaches the bed.
He stops just at the edge of the bed and he is watching you as he pulls his
t-shirt over his head and drops his pants to the floor.
His dick is standing strait up, amid a dark curly bush of hair.
Your heart is hammering in your chest. To your left you hear Howie come,
sighing Chris’s name and that makes your stomach drop. You’re about to come in
your pants. JC crawls onto the bed, never taking his eyes from your face. He
advances on you, and you have to drop flat on your back, stretching your legs
out underneath his body. You can feel heat coming off of him in waves.
He leans down, placing his face next to your ear. He whispers,
though you can't imagine who he wants to not hear him.
"Howie said I could fuck you. Can I?"
You couldn't say no if your life depended on it. You just nod and
his tongue touches your ear, sending a jolt through you.
You hear yourself gasp.
He sits up, straddling you, and with deft fingers he unbuttons your
shirt and pulls it off. You lift up to help, and by the time you untangle your
hands from the garment he is sliding your pants down your hips, leaving them to
drop to the floor.
You turn to the side, straining to see your boyfriend and Chris.
They’ve switched places, Chris is holding onto Howie’s shoulders and you can
see glimpses of Howie’s tongue on Chris’s cock.
JC takes the lube from you and your legs fall open easily. You feel
ready.
JC's fingers are slick and when he twists them inside you, your
dick makes a puddle on your stomach.
"Are you ready," he asks, and he is already holding your
leg back, spreading you open.
You nod; words are so very beyond you by now. JC buries himself
deep inside you on the first thrust, and your scream gets caught in your
throat. You take in air desperately.
His eyes are closed, mouth open, lips trembling. You think he's
beautiful.
Chris has a very noisy orgasm at the end of the bed. JC keeps
thrusting into you. He’s straining at it, and he wasn't exaggerating when he
asked to 'fuck you'. This will hurt tomorrow.
You don't care.
The mattress dips in your direction. Howie is suddenly, or maybe
not suddenly- you think you might be losing time, next to you. He grins at you,
before leaning in to kiss you.
His tongue is hot in your mouth, and part of the taste is familiar.
You figure the unfamiliar taste is Chris’s.
This isn't going to last very long. JC’s pace continues to
increase, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thigh as he pushes it
higher. Howie slides his hand down your chest to grasp your erection.
Starbursts of light explode on the backs of your eyelids, and there is language
again.
"Fuck fuck fuck," spills from your lips in a torrent as
you come, harder than you’d expected. Howie kisses you again, accepting your
noises into him, drawing them from you.
JC thrusts once more and you can feel him come, as well. He pulls
away from you, standing on wobbling legs. Chris is right there, helping him
stand and stretching up to kiss his throat.
Howie slides over you, until he is straddling you completely,
mindless of the mess on your stomach. You lean up to kiss him better, wrapping
one leg around his, tangling the two of you together. When the kiss break, both
of you are gasping for air. You flutter your hands across his waist, over the
place where you know you'll find the bruises Chris made, and he shudders above
you.
It is still very quiet, just the sound of Chris and JC on the floor
beside the bed and Howie’s soft moan in your ear.
You close your eyes and try to breathe.
[Fin.]
* I don’t own backstreet boys or *nsync. No libel. *