Soul

By Rowan

 

*Thanks to Aly for beta helpfulness.

 

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“…Wait around here for someone else to take me past the good side.”

-matchbox twenty

 

Don’t sleep with your ex’s best friends. Especially not in his new house.  Especially not during his birthday party.  Especially not a mere 6 months after the two of you had broken up.

 

That is the rule. And JC is pretty familiar with the rule. It’s why he said no to Chris.

 

It’s why he supposed to say no to Nick.

 

But…

 

They’re just at that point where stopping is impossible.

 

At least he has an out.

 

Pot makes him horny, and he is so high.

 

High as a kite and hard as a rock in one of Justin’s guest bedrooms with one of Justin’s best friends. The smallest one, which means it’s still frickin’ huge. The carpet is thick and white and there are Warhol replicas painted directly onto the walls.  Lynn decorated all the rooms in this place, and she watches far too much Trading Spaces. She loves Laurie.

 

Nick licks his hot darting tongue around the whorls of JC’s ear. JC gasps and closes his eyes, as bright lights flash on his eyelids as they fall onto the bed.

 

He grasps Nick’s ass firmly in his greedy hands and pulls, Nick’s body shifts over him, and he finds Nick’s mouth, and they are kissing again.

 

JC throws one leg around Nick’s waist and thrusts up, grinding their cocks together, illicit thrilling shocks shooting through his blood.

 

The kiss breaks and they are panting into each other’s mouths.  Their hips are still grinding.

 

Nick catches his eye. “You wanna blowjob?” And he sounds like Justin, low soft country accent. Like Justin if Justin were here stretched out on top of JC and offering to suck him off. Like Justin hasn’t been in a while. 

 

He thinks, I should say no, but he says “god yes” and Nick kisses him again, tasting like salt and beer.

 

JC touches Nick’s hair, soft dark strands in his fingers, and sighs a little moan as Nick sucks marks onto his neck.

 

Hickies are good, but blowjobs are better, so he pushes a little –not enough to be rude- but enough to facilitate things, and Nick slides. He pushes JC’s shirt up, making JC shiver at the cool hair on his heated skin. His teeth catch on one of JC’s nipples, and it shrivels to a hard point. Air stops in JC’s throat and that shock of pleasure. Nick peppers kisses over JC’s chest and stomach, and JC pushes just a little more.

 

Nick flashes JC a quick smile that JC interprets as ‘I know what you’re doing’, so he slides his fingers from the top of Nick’s head and down to his neck, stroking a little, fingering the turquoise bead-choker Nick wears.  The necklace is probably Justin’s, too.

 

He feels Nick’s hands unbutton his fly. Nick mouths JC through the cotton of his boxers and JC can’t stifle the moan that escapes from deep in his chest.

 

Nick is not a tease, and it isn’t long before he slips JC’s erection free from his clothing and licks from base to tip, just to taste it.

 

JC draws himself up on his elbows so he can watch his dick slip into Nick’s mouth slowly, inch by inch.

 

Fire-hot, like his cock is being scalded. JC groans and throws his head back. His brain goes fuzzy gray and white as all thoughts burst out of existence.

 

“Fuck,” JC moans and Nick doesn’t even stop to acknowledge that JC is going practically unconscious. He spreads JC thighs as wide as possible with JC still wearing his jeans, and starts to hum. His damp fingers wrap around the base of JC’s cock and he sucks and sips at JC like this is the most important head he’s ever given.

 

JC tosses his head against the pillow, and tries to keep breathing.  This isn’t going to take long, and JC can already feel the beginnings of his orgasm pawing at his nerves.

 

Someone, probably Trace, turns the stereo on downstairs and he can feel the bass, but can’t hear the song. The room shakes, and Nick slides farther forward, the head of JC’s cock slipping just a bit down his throat, and JC cries out and comes, blood on fire, breathing hoarse.

 

It’s takes a while for him to catch his breathe, as Nick cleans the stickiness off JC with Kleenex from the nightstand, and refastens his clothing. When he’s done, Nick collapses on top of him so they’re nose-to-nose, and Nick is grinding their hips together again, trying to work up enough friction to get off. JC kisses him, sweeping his tongue through Nick’s mouth, and Nick grinds down hard, once, and freezes, gasping into JC’s open mouth.

 

JC is yawning when Nick gets up, a slightly distasteful look on his face as he pulls at the now damp fabric of his khakis.

 

“JC? I’m gonna go.  I’ll tell J where to find you, if he asks.”

 

“Ok. Sure, man.”  The giant green letters on the alarm clock read 3:04, and JC manages to remember it’s not Justin’s birthday anymore. It’s now Nick’s. “Happy Birthday. Nick.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

And he closes the door behind him.

 

 

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