Well, fuck.


The funny thing was, Chris couldn’t actually remember what had made him think it would be a good idea to sneak up on JC and pin him to the wall with his wrists above his head. Probably rehearsing ‘Up Against The Wall’ thirteen fucking times over the past three days. It had just…struck him as funny, as something that would probably lead to something amusing. Whenever he pulled something like this on JC, he’d either get really flustered and look confused or else start yelling about immature assholes and storm out of the room, but he wasn’t storming out now. Wasn’t even moving, in fact, although he really could have pulled his wrists free if he wanted to, because Chris was shorter than him, standing on tiptoes just to be able to keep him there.


Actually, the only thing JC was doing was breathing really hard, and trembling slightly in Chris’ hands, like he was scared, but he wasn’t scared. Chris was pretty fucking sure of that.


Chris had been waiting in the toy room for him. Probably for a little too long, because Chris likes to be prepared, makes lists for everything, even, and makes sure that he always has everything he needs with him. Chris likes being prepared, being aware.


So he’d been waiting, and as soon as he was sure that it was JC walking through the door, he’d grabbed JC with one arm and slammed the door shut with the other, locking it with nimble fingers after he turned JC to face the wall, pushing him against it first and then, as soon as he had both hands free, grabbing JC‘s too-thin wrists (had to get the boy to eat more) and held them above his head.


Leaned close to whisper into his ear, “Up against the wall, huh, Jayce?”


He’d expected JC to pull back, annoyed, because he hated being teased about stuff like that, and had refused to let anyone borrow his computer for two months after he’d showed then Digital Getdown because of the sites they kept “discovering” in his bookmarks, but he didn’t. In fact, he’d.




Just a little, almost under his breath, but his body tightened under Chris’s hands, and it was enough for Chris to draw in a quick, shallow breath because damn, if that wasn’t just fucking hot.


And, um, a little encouraging, because what was JC doing, shivering, quivering, fucking trembling against Chris? What the fuck?


But still, you could never be too sure when it came to friends—or when it came to JC—so Chris had. Stepped in close, almost pressing his body against the long smooth line of JC’s, against the graceful arch of his back. Not touching, just letting Jayce feel his body heat. Letting Jayce know he was there.


He swallowed. “Um. Dude, really? Because—”


“No!” JC said quickly, but it was practically desperate, and Chris knew a lie when he heard one, and damn if that wasn’t amusing. The fact that it was turning him on too went on the back burner as he reveled in new dirt to mock with.


He pressed into JC a little harder and laughed. “Dude. This sort of kinky shit really turns you on?”


He expected JC to protest again, but he wanted to test, so Chris squeezed his wrists tightly once, then slid one of his hands down Jayce’s arms, biceps, down his face and over his mouth, and didn’t allow the opportunity. Sure enough, JC gasped a little and bit back whatever he was going to say, opening his mouth below Chris’ hand but merely breathing onto it.


Shit. Shit. Okay, this was actually kind of hot. Like, in a sexy way, which Chris has absolutely no idea what to do with.


Because, Jesus, they’d all heard each other jerk off before, and even shared sex stories, and maybe even kissed each other once or twice, but this was. Unprecedented. And he didn’t quite know what to do with the situation, now that he’d started it.


But there was only so much you could do with a situation like this, and it was kind of too late to back out now, so he just stepped closer and pressed JC’s wrists into the wall, letting him know that he wanted them to stay there, and then the let his hand follow the same path his other hand had: down JC’s arm, squeezing his bicep, but then whispering over his shoulder to slide over his chest.


His nipples were hard.


And fuck, fuck, this really wasn’t a joke anymore, was it? Because JC was panting against Chris’ hand, and writhing just a little, pushing his body back until it bumped into Chris’s, and he had to notice that Chris seemed to have bypassed getting hard and went straight to full erection.


Had to, because he ground his hips back into it and let the tip of his tongue snake out of his mouth to tease Chris’s palm, and when had he become the one in control?


Well, he couldn’t have that, because how could he ever hold his head up high knowing he’d been topped—so to speak—by someone as skinny-ass as most of their thirteen-year-old fans.


He took what advantage he already had, and grabbed one of JC’s wrists, slamming him until he was pressed to the wall, cheek against it, skin to plaster. JC grunted and bit down on his hand—little fucker—but then went limp, breathing hard. Letting Chris chuckle against the back of his neck and slide his hand from shoulder to the base of his spine, even arching against it, trying to keep Chris’s skin on his.


“Dude, you’re so mine,” Chris said into his ear, careful to breathe on the side of his neck, making JC jump. He chuckled and slid his hand around to JC’s front, to pinch and fondle a hard nipple through his shirt until JC squirmed, moaning against his fingertips and finally giving up, licking them like a chastised puppy. Chris almost let go, because there was softwetheat suddenly curling around his fingertips, and fuck, JC wasn’t supposed to be this hot, either literally or figuratively, but he fucking was. Jesus.


He finally gave up and draped his body against JC’s, letting his weight press the smaller man more firmly against the wall, because for one thing, JC seemed to like it. A lot. The less he could move, the more he tried to, bucking skittishly even as he moaned and rolled his head and mouthed Chris’s fingers, just barely touching them with the tip of his tongue, and then almost swallowing them.


And besides, Chris was getting just a little dizzy to stand straight up, and JC’s body was such a long, hard, welcoming column of softhot skin, and fuck, the curve of his ass was a perfect place for Chris’s cock to rest, because. Jesus.


Meanwhile, JC’s hands were still pressed to the wall, exactly where Chris had left them, and Chris’s fingers were still rolling one of JC’s nipple, which was just unbearably hard beneath his shirt. Finally Chris got sick of that—or rather, frustrated—and slipped his hand beneath JC’s shirt, circling around his navel first and then working up beneath the thin fabric to slip around the hard buttons of JC’s nipples directly.


At the first touch of skin on skin, JC went fucking crazy, moaning against Chris’s fingers, licking between them, fucking deep-throating them, and bucking back against Chris’s cock like he was being fucked. Just. Fuck.


And Chris wanted to do something besides just finger Jayce’s nipples, but they were so fucking tender, just a touch and JC was already writhing, and besides, his skin was so fucking gorgeous, buttersoft and warm beneath his hand, deliciously hard and soft all at the same time, the scratch of hair light against his skin.


But JC was freaking out, and his hand slid down from the wall to grab Chris’s arm, urging it downward, and now he wasn’t exactly swallowing Chris’s fingers, though he didn’t seem to be able to get them out of his mouth. Instead he spoke around them, punctuating each of his staccato words with a lick of Chris’s fingers. “Chris. Cock. Please, please.”


So yeah, okay, he could probably do that. Never mind that he hadn’t had a cock in his hand that wasn’t his own for years, but. Hey, it wasn’t like they were all that different, and even if he wasn’t willing to let JC release his other hand, and JC didn’t seem particularly receptive to the idea either, he could certainly do this one-handed.


It was hard to slide his hand down that hot, tempting flesh, and not stay, however; instead, going straight for rough denim and harsh zipper, but Jayce’s moan was more than worth it, because. Fuck. How the hell was he ever going to look JC in the face after this?


He probably would be able to, but just this moment, right here, where every part of JC seemed welcoming to him—the hot wet swamp of his mouth, the surprisingly curved lines of his body, the bulge of his cock beneath denim—was worth it. He couldn’t remember being this close to someone in a long while.


But he still had his brain—sort of—so he stopped. Just for a second, half a second, long enough to whisper into JC’s ear, “This won’t fuck anything up, right?”


“What?” was muttered around his fingers, and Chris swallowed, just trying to hold onto self-control, but then JC released him to say, “No, man.” Twisted his head to look at Chris with surprisingly clear blue eyes, clouded over with desire but not stupid with it. “We’re good,” he said, and then smiled a heartbreakingly sweet JC smile, leaning back at what was probably a really painful angle to kiss Chris softly on the mouth.


He kissed back, but was suddenly thrust back into his body with the realization that, as much as JC was leaning into the kiss, he was leaning just as much into Chris’s hand, which was cradling his cock only through (Chris suspected) the layer of his jeans. He squeezed once, softly, and was encouraged by a shallow thrust, and the opening of JC’s mouth to let out a small moan, which escalated as Chris slid his hand down the zipper.


Chris licked at JC’s lips, almost expecting to be shut out, but instead JC made some little warm noise and opened his mouth wider, sliding his tongue out to play with Chris’s. And his cock was still heavy and hot in Chris’s hand, and his hands, now unoccupied, were clenching and unclenching against the wall, sliding over the smooth white plaster, slamming against it.




It was all just, sensory overload, and fuck if it was going too fast. Chris released JC just long enough to unbutton, unzip his pants, swallowing his moan, but letting his mouth go long enough to hear the little, “oh, oh,” he let out when Chris finally touched his dick, skin on skin.


Well…he’d been right about the commando thing. If he could ever, ever tell anyone about this, he’d be able to get that ten bucks from Joey.


But he didn’t want to tell anyone about this, ever, because this was just a him and JC thing. Even though he knew he wasn’t the first person to have his hand down JC’s pants, probably not even the first guy, it still felt sweet and new and so fucking hot that he didn’t even think he’d be able to relate this story without his tongue catching on fire, anyway.


And JC was just all kinds of vocal, whimpering, moaning, little kittenish noises against Chris’s tongue, and he didn’t seem to know whether he wanted to thrust forward into Chris’s grip or lick the inside of his mouth.


Finally Chris made the decision for him, and used the hand that wasn’t sliding over the silky furnace of his dick to press him against the wall by his shoulders.


JC didn’t come until Chris leaned into to kiss his neck, and then finally gave into the temptation to bite.


His body jerked, little shocky gasps of movement, before he collapsed against the wall, still moaning slightly beneath his breath. Chris let out a shaky laugh and leaned against his back, stealthily sliding his hand out from the front of JC’s body and licking it clean. Fuck.


And, never one to resist temptation, he went up on tiptoe to whisper, “Up against the wall indeed. Now you gonna tell me about the inspiration for Space Cowboy? I’ll bet that one involves illegal drugs.”


JC laughed too, sounding breathless and sleepy, and reached back to swat at him. “Bitch.”


“Hey, shut up, jerk. I’m the one who didn’t even get to come.” And he hadn’t, either. Kind of made him want to pout, but instead he just pressed closer to JC’s body, which was just really hot and all kinds of welcoming…


JC took a moment to wriggle back against him, but then stood with remarkable poise, tucking himself back into his jeans and zipping them. He turned around below the press of Chris’s body and kissed his cheek.


“That’ll be for later. Cause we have to do that, just…” He wrinkled his brow, trying to remember why they couldn’t right now.. “Just, because, yes.”


“But later.” Chris hoped he didn’t sound too hopeful, but really, he was just a little desperate, and JC could already tell anyway.


JC blushed, which was strange, considering what they’d just done. “Yes.”


Chris pressed against him, kissing the side of his neck. “Good.”



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