Wide Open Spaces
by Mickey M.
©December 2003

He could breathe easier the minute he crossed the line from California into Nevada. The further east he traveled, the easier breathing – and not thinking – became. By the time he hit Utah and swung north, JC was pretty sure this was the right decision. He'd done the break-up-and-rebuild bit, but the rebuild part wasn't working. Too many places he went to, too many people he knew, reminded him of five years gone, plus another year spent trying to start over. JC wanted a complete break. Wanted to be known just as JC, and not as the ex, or as one half of a seriously dysfunctional twosome.

It'd been a long time since he'd been just JC.

It felt good. Really, really good.

Leaving was hard; in spite of knowing it was the right thing to do, in spite of his friends and acquaintances and hangouts being reminders, he missed them. Missed the idea of them. But once he got the idea in his head and got moving, it got easier. And the relief he felt when he was truly on his way made it all worthwhile.

Now he needed to decide where to settle, and find a job. Figure out what he could do, what he wanted to do. This was a fresh start, he decided, sitting on the hood of his beat-up Toyota Corolla at the rest stop and watching the setting sun casting purple and pink shades across sand-and-shadow-colored ridges and plains. A fresh start, and he wanted it to start out right.

I can do anything. He used to tell himself that, a long time ago. It'd been years, literally, since he'd believed it.

He stretched back to lean against the windshield, breathing in the quiet, and the crisp, cold air. He could smell the diesel exhaust from the big rigs parked here with him, and the quiet, rumbling thunder as they passed by on the highway. It was the furthest thing from night time in LA that JC could imagine. It was perfect.

"GodDAMMIT." So much for perfection. JC slammed the hood of the car shut and leaned against the side, trying to decide what to do. The last road sign he'd passed said the next town was about fifteen miles up the road. And he wasn't even sure what sort of a town it would be – big enough to have a service station? Or like so many of the tiny burghs he'd passed in the last day or so, a wide-spot in the road? Why the hell he thought going to Montana would be a good idea, he wasn't sure.

Because Montana was miles and miles away from anything – especially anything remotely connected to Los Angeles, and Tony.

It was also cold as hell, and given it was only November, JC wasn't sure he wouldn't have to revise his choice of places to live. He had a thick sweater on, with his denim jacket over that, and it still felt like the wind was ripping through him, blasting layers of his skin off, one at a time. He'd been too long in California, that was for sure. He'd completely forgotten how to deal with anything colder than low seventies.

He briefly regretted getting rid of his cell phone, but it'd been one more tie to the past he was moving on from. JC didn't really regret it; it was nice not to have the umbilical to the hustle and bustle of his old life, but right now, when snowflakes were starting to drift down lazily, and the wind was a live, screaming presence, and his car just decided to stop running, it would've been nice.

A quick glance left and right showed blacktop stretching endlessly, and not another soul – wait. There was a pickup truck, heading toward him. Well, that was a good thing, right? As in, maybe he could get a ride into town. JC hoped he didn't regret doing this, but he really didn't want to walk ten or fifteen miles in the cold and blowing. He stepped away from the car and waved his arms wildly, breathing a sigh of relief when the truck pulled onto the side of the road just beyond his car.

The driver was a younger guy – maybe about his age. He had dark brown hair and a beard, and a sunny grin and brown eyes that seemed to smile and sparkle. He looked to be a big guy, though it was hard to tell for sure since he was sitting down. He had a cowboy hat perched on his head, and JC would bet every penny of his Visa limit when he got out of the truck he'd have boots on, too.

The guy rolled his window down, grimacing at the wind roaring around and into the cab of the truck. "Car trouble?"

"Yeah. Just died on me." JC shot a scowl toward his car then sighed. "It's an old car; the engine probably just gave up."

"I dunno much about foreign cars, but I can give you a ride into town, to the service station, if you want. The guy who runs it can fix pretty much anything on wheels." The smile broadened and JC was pretty sure he felt a little warmer, just from that.

"If it's not too much trouble?"

"Nah. Headin' that way myself; need to get some groceries and stuff."

"Cool, man. Thanks. Lemme get my stuff?"

"Sure thing." The guy stuck his arm out through the window, hand extended. "Name's Joe, by the way. Joey Fatone."

JC shook the offered hand. "JC Chasez. Nice to meet you."

Joey nodded. "Likewise. Toss your stuff in the back of the truck and climb on in. S'cold enough to freeze a guy's nuts off out there."

He couldn't help laughing. "No kidding, man. Hang on one minute."

It only took a moment to grab his duffle and backpack out of the backseat; the other two suitcases and boxes of books could stay in the trunk for now. After hesitating briefly, JC got his guitar out of the trunk. Better safe than sorry, after all. He piled everything into the back of Joey's pickup then shivered his way into the cab. His face felt completely scoured of skin, and the heat blasting from the vents was almost too much after the blowing cold outside.

"Thanks," JC muttered again, blowing on his hands to try and warm them. He gave up and curled his arms around himself, hands tucked up under his arms. "God, is it always like this here?"

Joey glanced out the window as he put the truck into gear, then turned back and flashed that grin at JC again. "Pretty much. You get used to it."

"I don't think so." But the smile was warming; he wouldn't have been surprised to hear the snowflakes sizzle if they landed on Joey. "I remember winter in Maryland, but I think I've been away too long."

"Yeah?" Joey turned the radio down. "Where you from?"

"California—Los Angeles."

One eyebrow went up. "And you're in Montana now? Like, no offense, man, but—why?"

"Hah." Warmer now, JC uncurled enough to buckle the seatbelt around himself. "Fresh start. I was just kinda driving, y'know? No particular place to go or be. It seemed like it's pretty up here; I thought I'd check it out."

Joey snorted. "So you come in November? The week before Thanksgiving—the end of November?" He shifted gears smoothly, the muscles rippling in his arms and chest. JC glanced away so it didn't look like he was obviously watching. This guy was really gorgeous. And wow, how totally cliché was that, to consider macking on a guy who'd saved his ass from being stranded?

"I didn't have anywhere else to be." He shrugged. They passed a sign indicating the town of Pine Bluff about eight miles up the road. Joey said there was a service station there; JC wondered how long it would take to get parts for a Toyota Corolla. He had a suspicion most of the vehicles around here were standard American whatevers. Actually, he wondered if the Toyota would be worth fixing. It was almost ten years old, after all. His first, last and only car so far. It'd served him well.

"Not going home for the holidays?" Another shift, and JC made himself look away again, away from thick thighs flexing beneath worn denim.

"Nah. Not much of a home to go to, really. My folks…eh. They love me, but they're not real happy with some of my lifestyle choices, so, y'know." And he wasn't likely to say much else about those choices without a bit more input on if Joey was queer-friendly, because the absolute last thing he wanted was to get his ass kicked out here in the middle of nowhere. JC had learned from Matthew Shepard's death, unfortunately. But thinking about holidays made him think about his family. It wasn't hard to remember the last conversation with his mom; she'd been determined he should come back to Maryland so they could reintroduce him around church and fix him up with a nice girl. JC snorted quietly. As if that were likely to happen. "How 'bout you?"

Joey shrugged. "My cousin's here, but that's it. The rest of 'em are in New York, and this isn't a really good time to get away."

"Why not? What do you do?"

"Rancher, man. I own a spread the other side of Pine Bluff. I could get away if I really wanted to, but I hate to leave when cold weather first hits. Usually they come up for Christmas – and I got friends in town who I always have Thanksgiving dinner with."

"Huh." JC watched the landscape flashing by and thought about that. "You're not from around here, so you're here…by choice?"

Joey laughed. Threw his head back and laughed loud and hard. "And you're not? But yeah. I hiked around the country the year after I graduated from high school, and I fell in love with the countryside. Thought about settling in Colorado or Wyoming, but there's something about Montana." He smiled at JC. "I lasted one semester back in New York and knew I had to come back. Went to school in Billings – majored in agriculture – then started looking around for land. I didn't have a clue really what I was doing at first – book-learning ain't the same as actually doing – but I learned fast. And I love it out here. Wide-open space…I can breathe out here. I miss New York sometimes, but not enough to leave this."

"Wow." It'd been a long time since JC'd felt that passionate about anything, even music. He still felt that way, deep inside, but it seemed as though he hadn't tapped into it in way too long. He kind of understood what Joey was saying, though, because the memory of the sun setting, and the pinks and grays and the shadows…it called to him. "Yeah. I can kinda…I can see that."

They lapsed into silence then, the only sound being the radio playing softly, barely audible over the sound of wind and tires against the blacktop. JC watched out the window, aware of Joey – almost hyperaware – beside him, and wondered how long he'd be in Pine Bluff. Judging from his reactions to this guy, he kind of desperately needed to get laid, and he didn't think a small rural town in central Montana was going to be the place to make it happen.

The sign proclaimed "Kirkpatrick's Auto Services – You Wreck 'Em, We'll Fix 'Em". JC thought that seemed positive. His confidence slipped a notch when Joey parked the pickup and gestured him through the small door on the side of the aluminum building. Inside was dirty – grease and oil everywhere, it seemed – and chaotic. A radio blared from somewhere near the back of the small shop, and there was a high-pitched whine of some machine or engine running. Added to that was a phone ringing shrilly, and two voices raised, volume and heat in the words increasing with each volley. JC inched closer, uncomfortable with hearing what seemed to be a private conversation, and felt a little better when he realized Joey was right behind him.

"—said it'd be done last Friday! It's Tuesday, Chris!"

"I got no control over the parts supplier, Dani. You know that."

"You shouldn't promise something you can't deliver. But that was always the case, wasn't it?"

"Christ, that's low. Why don't you just bring in my performance in the sack?"

"Yeah, why don't—"

Joey cleared his throat loudly and both people turned toward them. The man – JC guessed that was Chris – flushed a dull red, and stepped forward. "Joe. Dude."

"Got some business for you, Kirkpatrick." JC shifted uneasily and caught the scowl Joey aimed toward the woman. "Dani."

"Joey." She nodded stiffly and turned. "I'll be back tomorrow morning to get my car, Chris. Excuse me." She included JC in her nod and walked past them quickly. The door slammed shut behind her, and Chris and Joey winced almost in unison.

"Sorry 'bout that." Chris wiped his hands on a rag tucked into one of the pockets of his coveralls, and extended one toward JC. "I'm Chris—Kirkpatrick, in case the sign didn't give it away. What can I do you for?"

"JC Chasez. My car broke down," JC shook his hand and nodded his head toward the front of the building, "back on the highway."

"Yeah? Any idea what's wrong with it?" Beside him, Joey snorted.

"If he knew that, think he'd be in here, listening to you shriek and carry on?"

"Stuff it, Fatone." Chris grinned, but it didn't have the same warmth or force as Joey's. JC heaved a mental sigh and wondered if getting laid would solve the problem, or if he'd just glommed onto the idea of Joey which was kind of scary in and of itself. For all he knew, Joey had a wife and three kids back at his ranch. "Seriously, dude. Any clue?"

"Um. It stopped running?" And wow, that sounded lame, even to him. JC rolled his eyes. "It jerked a bunch of times, lost acceleration, and then there was a big…thunk sound and it just…stopped."

Chris frowned. "Sounds like the engine block, maybe. Old car?"

"'Bout ten years old, yeah."

"Foreign or domestic?"

"Toyota Corolla."

"Huh." Chris shrugged. "They last a long time, but eventually they go to that great big junkyard in the sky, too."

Joey rolled his eyes. "You're such a dork, Kirkpatrick."

"Takes one to know one." Chris flipped him off casually, then headed toward the back of the shop, hollering over his shoulder, "be right back, dude, don't go anywhere."

Like he could, stuck as he was. JC turned to Joey. "Uh, I guess he's gonna take care of it—so, um."

"Wanna leave your stuff in Chris' office? He'll be cool with it."

"I—yeah. Guess so. Is there a hotel around, somewhere? Or, yeah. That."

Joey frowned. "Well. There's a motor lodge at the edge of town, but man, I wouldn't let my dogs sleep there. Closest decent place is about twenty miles up, in Sherwood."

Fuck. It just kept getting better and better. JC sighed and wondered again why he thought Montana was a good idea. Hell, why leaving California was a good idea.

"Tell you what." Joey had a really nice voice, too, JC decided as he jerked back from his internal whining. "I got plenty of room – it's a three-bedroom plus an attic room, and even with Justin staying with me, there's an extra guest room. I can put you up no problem."

"You sure?" Maybe there was a god. At the very least, Joey qualified for sainthood, in his book. "I don't want to put you out."

"Man, it's not a problem at all." Joey smiled, eyes sparkling warmly. JC's breath caught in his chest. Wow, was he pretty. "I got business that'll keep me in town for a couple hours; Chris should have you towed back by then, and have you sorted out. So, I can just come back here when I finish, and we'll go back to the ranch then, okay?"

JC nodded. "That sounds great. And thanks, man. Seriously. I can pay my way, y'know, room and board—"

"I don't think so." Joey's smile turned to a frown briefly and he narrowed his eyes. JC shivered, wondering if that's what he looked like, snarling concentration, in bed. "You'll be my guest, dude."

"And if I'm here for more than a couple of days?"

"Then you wash dishes after dinner." The grin was back. "Any chance you know how to cook?"

"Eh." JC waggled his hand in a so-so gesture. "Nothing fancy or gourmet, but basics, sure."

"Then you're a couple steps beyond me or Justin." Joey shook his head. "I swear, that kid can burn water."

"Er—" That'd be a neat trick. JC kind of hoped he'd get to see that. "No, I can do better than that."

"I'll bet." The warmth in Joey's eyes increased, and if it weren't for the fact that he didn't know dick about this guy, JC would've sworn he was flirting. Maybe he was just a straight guy who smiled at everyone like that, but it made a nice little glow start up in JC's belly.

"Okay, dude. Shop's closed up, let's rock and roll." Chris was like a random blast of energy, surging back into the room, and JC made himself look away from Joey and focus. "We'll get you towed back here and see what we can see." Chris paused, then frowned. "Did you have stuff you need to store? I can clear some space in my office—"

"He's gonna go home with me, Chris; I'll just leave his stuff in the truck." Joey looked at JC. "If that's okay? If you wanna store it here for now, that's cool, but it'll be safe enough where it is."

There weren't probably nearly the issues with crime and theft here that there were in well, just about anywhere else. For one thing, there had to be people. JC shrugged. "If you think it's fine where it is, let's leave it. 'Cos otherwise, we just have to haul it in and out again."

"Yeah." Joey smiled at JC, eyes sparkling. "No wasting of energy needlessly. A man after my own heart. Okay, I'll be back in a couple of hours, and we'll head out home, then." Beside him, Chris snorted, but JC didn't want to look away to see why or what. He nodded, resisting the urge to reach out, touch, do something to initiate contact. Wow, he had it bad. And so fucking fast, too. Jesus. He turned away, tugging at the buttons on his jacket, following behind Chris when he led the way out the back of the shop to the big tow truck parked behind it.

Unlike Joey, who'd been content to talk a bit, then ride quietly, Chris chattered non-stop all the way down the highway. By the time they reached JC's car, looking cold and abandoned on the side of the road, JC knew more about Chris than he'd known about Tony in the first year he knew him. It was a little disconcerting, actually, but nice to talk to someone he wasn't afraid of coming onto unconsciously. Chris was nice, but JC just didn't feel the spark for him he felt for Joey.

“-and she can say whatever she wants about me, but I tell you what…she keeps coming back,” Chris continued as he hopped out of the truck. “To heap abuse on me, Joe tells me, but I think she just can’t stop thinking about the one who got away.”

JC smiled and walked over to where Chris was taking a look at the car. He watched Chris kick lightly at the tires, then ducked his head a bit when Chris walked behind the car. He knew Chris was reading his bumper stickers, and while JC wasn’t embarrassed about who he was, he knew that this wasn’t a good time or place to make enemies.

“It’s only kinky the first time,” Chris read out loud with an unreadable smirk, and his gaze traveled across the bumper, undoubtedly taking in the shiny rainbow pride sticker as well. JC held his breath until Chris met his eyes over the top of the car, and he realized that Chris was laughing. “Damn!” Chris declared, and shook his head while clapping his hands together—for warmth or in amusement, JC couldn’t tell. “I think we’ve got the entire queer population of Montana in this town, now,” he hooted, then continued with his inspection.

JC had no clue what that was supposed to mean, but the reaction seemed more fond than insulting. It seemed safer to just smile and stand silently until Chris finished his assessment. The wind picked up suddenly, and he folded his arms over his chest, hoping this wouldn’t take long.

“You’ll fucking freeze to death!” Chris shouted over the sound of a semi rumbling past. “Get back in the truck, I’ll be done shortly. I promise,” he added. “I know what I’m doing.”

Sure enough, Chris had the Corolla secured to the flatbed before JC’s hands had even thawed. He climbed back in the truck and winked at JC, his dark hair crusted over with snow that he shook off like a dog.

“You couldn’t have broken down at a better time,” he told JC on the way back to the garage. “If you’da kept going, you’d be in the ditch or worse come morning.”

It was probably true, and it was a good thing that Chris knew the road so well because by the time they pulled into the garage again, JC could hardly see out of the windshield. Joey, who had said he’d be gone for a couple more hours, was already waiting.

“Hey, where’d this come from?” he called to Chris, who shrugged helplessly.

“You got me, but I’m closing down early. Even Dani doesn’t want me enough to come out in this weather.”

“You wish,” Joey snorted, then turned to JC. “You ready to go? I hate to rush you, but this system came in fast and I’m still about twenty miles out.”

JC nodded, utterly charmed. Snowflakes glistened on Joey’s beard, but he didn’t seem to be affected at all by the weather. JC himself was freezing; he felt soggy and chapped and uncomfortable, but Joey looked warm and toasty in his heavy layers and thick work gloves. He looked like a man who was completely in command of himself and his surroundings, which made JC want to just be near him. That kind of confidence was more than a little attractive to JC; he’d been living around actors and musicians and artists for far too long.

“Let me get my stuff,” he managed to say without his teeth chattering too much. Joey held the door open while JC put his belongings in the backseat, and then they were on their way.

Joey’s house was exactly how JC had imagined it. Rustic and plain on the outside; luxuriously country on the inside. It was like every fantasy JC ever had about visiting a ranch or ski lodge, complete with a crackling fireplace and homemade quilts draped over every sofa and chair. There was even a plush bearskin rug in the room that Joey showed him to.

“Did you, um…” he asked weakly, pointing at the rug. He wasn’t necessarily opposed to fur as a policy, but the head was still attached, which made him a little queasy.

“With my bare hands,” Joey declared, and growled fiercely before breaking into laughter over JC’s horror. “Nah, kidding. It was kind of a housewarming gift.”

“Oh. It was a relief, even though JC didn’t know why.

“There’s a bathroom through that door, and you’ll find towels in the closet. You got warm clothes?” Joey gave JC’s bag a suspicious look, then shook his head. “I doubt it. I’ll get you something to put on over whatever you end up wearing. It’s Justin’s night for dinner, so you’ll have some time to clean up before it’s ready.”

He must have appeared as lost as he felt, because Joey gave him another one of those smiles and patted lightly at JC’s cheek. “Don’t worry,” he said. “Chris is great. He’ll do the job and won’t bleed you dry in the process.”

“Thanks,” JC forced himself to say. “I mean, thank you for everything. I don’t-“ He clamped his mouth shut, because the quiver deep in his chest warned him that he was too tired, too cold and too lonely to be saying anything right now. The bear’s mouth was still full of sharp, white teeth and he counted them until Joey cleared his throat, said “Let me know if you need anything,” and shut the door behind him.

There was a lot to be said for being warm and comfortable, JC thought when he emerged from the guest room. There was also a lot to be said for good company, because until Joey had touched him, he hadn’t realized how the days of solitary driving had worn on him. It had just been a casual touch, but it had dipped into a cache of longing that had almost made JC do something stupid…like touch back.

The house smelled of popcorn, and he could hear good-natured arguing coming from the kitchen. When JC rounded the corner, he saw that Joey had a young, long-limbed young man in a headlock. The pair struggled and bumped against the middle island, but Joey didn’t let go until he’d thoroughly rubbed his fist against the boy’s curly, now completely disheveled head.

“Fuck! Okay, okay!” the young man griped, red-faced, wrenching himself away from Joey’s grasp. He looked as though he had more to say, but stopped short when he saw JC. “Um, hi,” he said, suddenly smiling. His hands went to his head, attempting the impossible task of fixing his hair. “I’m Justin.”

Cute. JC smiled back and glanced over at Joey. Justin was exactly the kind of guy JC usually went for, and he could tell right away that Chris’ earlier comment about the queer population definitely included Justin.

“This is Justin,” Joey repeated, “who seems to think that he can pass a bowl of microwave popcorn for an actual meal.”

At this, Justin laughed, a bit breathlessly. “I was just kidding. My cousin needs to learn to take a joke. How does…meatloaf sound?”

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Joey grumbled. “And forget it. You can thank JC for getting you off the hook for tonight. I don’t want our guest to spend his first night here with food poisoning.”

Justin huffed loudly, but didn’t argue any further. JC figured he knew a good thing when he saw it. Justin asked him if he wanted a drink, then asked him if there were anything he could get for him, which was kind of flattering. JC knew when he was being flirted with, but it was far more appealing to sit on a stool at the counter and watch Joey at work. Without the heavy layers of winter clothing, JC could see Joey’s actual shape, and it was as pleasing as he’d known it would be. He wasn’t built anything like JC, and that made him all the more attractive. The strong, steady type never seemed to be interested in JC, and Joey was definitely that type. His thick, solid waist and thighs were encased in worn denim, and when JC saw his ass, he had to look away. It was stupid, the way he could feel a flush breaking out on his cheeks just from one look, but that didn’t keep him from looking again and again.

Later, they sat in front of the fire and snacked on Justin’s popcorn, talking about the town and the friends they’d made. They had hilarious stories that they finished for one another, and JC was grateful that they didn’t ask very many questions. He just didn’t want to think about the answers.

“So, what do you think?” Justin finally asked, and shook a handful of popcorn in JC’s direction. “Who’s the greater genius in the kitchen: me or Joey?” The way Justin was putting his abs on display by letting his shirt ride up was rather genius, but JC was already smitten.

“I’m gonna have to go with Joey,” he said, and let his gaze slide over to Joey, hoping for another smile. He wasn’t disappointed, because Joey actually giggled just about the same time Justin burst out with,

“Dude, it’s not fair! I never had a chance, not when my cousin here seduces the world with his big strong farm boy rescue routine.”

JC’s heart lurched and sped up in his chest. So, it was like that? Maybe? Or was it just Justin being silly? It was hard to tell, but he caught the quick, dark look Joey threw at his cousin. Encouraged, JC jumped on the moment and tipped his head back to blink up at Joey. “My hero,” he said quietly, quirking his lips slightly; not really a smile, but just enough to make Joey notice his mouth.

“Yeah, yeah…you can make it up to him later,” Justin griped, rolling his eyes. His complaining was all talk; he and his cousin were as affectionate as any family JC had ever seen.

“Oh, the dish washing?” JC asked with pseudo-innocence, heady with the thrill of flirting. He gave Joey a questioning look and was pleased when Joey coughed lightly and looked away.

”We’ll see what we can find,” he said. A gentleman, then. God, this guy just kept getting better and better. Or maybe he really was straight.

“Oh God, I give up. I can’t watch this,” Justin said, getting up and brushing the crumbs from his pants. “I’ve got a paper to write and then I’m out for the night.” He took the bowl of popcorn to the kitchen and waved good night to both of them, shaking his hips as he walked up the stairs to his bedroom.

“He’ll do anything to get out of cleaning up,” Joey said fondly. He stared into the fire for a few seconds, then slapped his hands on his thighs, breaking the spell. “I’d better get started on the kitchen…you need anything?”

“I’m fine,” JC replied. He watched Joey take their glasses into the kitchen and admired the shift and flex of his body as he walked. It wasn’t like JC didn’t ever meet hot guys, but to meet someone so hot and nice; that was rare. Joey was different than anyone JC had known in LA. It was obvious he liked to take care of people without needing anything in return, a trait that made JC want to spread out in front of him and offer everything. But he didn’t even know what Joey’s type was. Sighing, he got up and found Joey standing at the sink, rinsing plates.

“Hey,” he said, standing closely behind him. “I thought that was my job. Wasn’t that part of the bargain?” he teased.

Joey didn’t turn around. His hands slowed on the dishes, making JC wonder if maybe he hadn’t misinterpreted the situation. Just as he was about to move away, though, Joey shifted backward ever so slightly, just enough to bring the full curve of his ass in contact with JC’s hips.

JC froze. The hiss of the running water was the only sound in the room, but he almost couldn’t hear it over the pounding in his own ears. He felt swallowed in Joey’s shadow, overwhelmed by how much he wanted this to happen. It seemed like an invitation, so he let his hands drift to Joey’s hips where they curled lightly around the faded denim. Just an inch forward and he was pressed flush against Joey’s ass.

“I wasn’t sure if you were kidding or not,” Joey said. He wasn’t washing dishes anymore, and his wet hands were gripping the edge of the counter. He sounded interested but uncertain, so JC did his best to make Joey want this as much as he did.

“Not kidding,” he breathed into Joey’s back, breathing damp heat into the thin cotton t-shirt until a tiny shiver passed through Joey’s body. Then he slid his hands up around Joey’s waist, where he stroked his fingers over the softness of his belly; slow, light touches that went as low as JC dared. “Want you,” he whispered. It wasn’t meant for Joey’s ears but it was definitely heard, judging by the quick intake of breath, and the way Joey covered JC’s hands with his own.

JC bit his lip and turned his face to rest his cheek against Joey’s broad back. Joey’s hands were bigger than his own, and they pushed ever so slightly…down. For a second JC’s fingers were caught on the hard edge of Joey’s waistband, but then there he was, his hand pressed flat between Joey’s hand and the firm bulge in his jeans. Joey wanted him, too.

He couldn’t help the sound he made as he hitched his hips forward. He was so sensitized at the place where their bodies met, it was almost embarrassing. Even Joey wasn’t as hard as JC already was, with each tiny movement sparking tendrils of heat that wound tighter and tighter in his belly and groin.

The closeness was nice, but JC liked kissing. He wanted to see what it felt like to kiss someone with a beard, wanted to know what it felt like when Joey used the full strength of his arms. When Joey turned around and took JC’s mouth with his own, JC found out. The facial hair tickled and scraped pleasantly at his face, while Joey’s mouth was warm and gentle. JC was the one who first brought his tongue out, licking tentatively at Joey’s mouth and then more greedily when he opened up with a sound of surprise. “Couch,” Joey said, and JC almost protested because Joey had just slid his hand up underneath JC’s sweatshirt, and having callused fingers pressing methodically against his backbone felt better than anything had felt in a long time.

Together they stumbled to the wide, L-shaped couch and collapsed with JC on top of Joey, already straining forward for more kisses. For long, breathless moments they kissed on the sofa. Joey’s hands kept coming down to cup JC’s ass and he arched into it every time, spreading his legs and purring when Joey’s thick fingers traced the seam of his jeans. Every once in a while, Joey would slide his fingers into the back of JC’s jeans, and JC would hump enthusiastically against Joey in response, but every time they withdrew until JC thought he might die if he didn’t get some relief soon.

“Am I ever going to get to see you naked?” JC finally asked. His lips felt swollen and raw, and he couldn’t think of a time when his dick had been trapped hard in his pants for this long. Joey seemed more than ready. One more long, deep kiss and Joey moved his mouth to JC’s ear. It tickled, but JC had a thing about whispering during lovemaking; it turned him on something fierce.

“You just seemed like you might- need more- than a quick fuck,” Joey confessed. His fingers traced infinitely gentle patterns on JC’s back.

“Who says it has to be quick?” JC asked with a smirk, ignoring what Joey was implying. He might be feeling vulnerable, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t up for this. If anything, this made it so much better; the attention and warmth of another person.

“Was just checking,” Joey gasped out, and JC hummed from where he’d begun licking Joey’s belly. He skillfully maneuvered his tongue under Joey’s waistband while unfastening his pants, and by the time Joey said, “Oh, fuck,” JC was already lapping at the head of his cock in slow, leisurely slides of tongue.

“You taste good,” he said, and shuddered with pleasure even though he was the one giving the blow job. He loved talking during sex; the dirtier the better. Even his own voice turned him on, and he moaned for the sheer sake of pleasure before wrapping his lips around the tip of Joey’s dick and sucking at it until Joey’s voice keened out softly. Then he stopped and took off his clothes, blushing with the way Joey watched him the entire time.

“You, too,” he said quietly, and dragged his fingertips up the length of his own erection.

“Fuck,” Joey swore, just the reaction he’d wanted. “Top kitchen drawer.”

By the time JC returned, Joey was naked, lying on the couch and toying with his chest hair. The smile he gave JC was the same one he’d given him earlier; kind and affectionate, full of interest. It made JC want to kiss again, so he spread himself out over Joey and writhed against him, skin on skin, moaning loudly when he felt the wet, slick patch between their bodies. “Fuck, fuck, you’re hot,” Joey murmured, over and over, hands roaming everywhere they could reach on JC’s thin body. It was obvious he was restraining himself, his powerful legs holding back from thrusting up and toppling JC, who was busy coating his hand with lube and trying not to come just from Joey’s incoherent chanting.

“Hey,” he said, and leaned down. He smiled against Joey’s lips, because Joey looked as stunned and thrilled as JC himself felt. Joey’s cock was trapped between his ass cheeks and JC rocked on it, waited for Joey’s groan and then said, “Wanna ride you.”

And he did. He wanted to feel Joey really thrusting up with all the power that JC knew he had, wanted Joey to jerk him off with those big, hard-worked hands, and he could hardly wait to slick his hand over Joey’s cock before raising up to slowly take it all in. It burned a bit, but in a good way, and he tipped his head back in pleasure, then pushed the rest of the way down onto Joey’s cock when he was struck by lightning, Joey’s fingers pinching unexpectedly at his nipples.

He hadn’t done this in a while, but it was easy to get into the rhythm of rolling his hips in time with Joey’s, hanging on and arching back just enough to press Joey’s cock right to the spot he wanted it. After getting it just right a few times in a row, he stopped and let Joey move how he wanted, which was a completely different and just as sexy rhythm. “I saw you there,” Joey grunted, “saw those skinny little hips, and damn you’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever—oh, fuck!” He wrapped his hands around JC’s hips and that was pretty much it for JC. If Joey would just touch him, he thought desperately, just touch his cock – or suck it, he thought, even though that was pretty much impossible in this position- he could come, because it was rising up, swelling and leaving him trembling on the fine edge of orgasm. He hated it, loved it and didn’t want it to ever stop.

Joey was starting to lose his rhythm, jerking up into JC, staring at the place where there bodies were joined. The dig of his fingers into his hips was as insistent as ever; Joey didn’t seem inclined at all to touch his cock, but when he let one of his thumbs drift down behind JC’s balls to press, over and over with the thrust of his hips, the pleasure surged up and took JC by surprise. He was still coming all over his own belly and chest when Joey clutched him even tighter and went still, swelling and pulsing inside of JC.

It was too sticky to lie down on Joey, so JC gave him a light kiss on the lips before making a quick trip to the bathroom to clean up. When he came back, Joey had done the same and was sprawled, still naked, on the couch. He reached out his arms when he saw JC, who went willingly into them. Joey’s bicep was a great pillow, and one tug of the blanket on the back of the couch brought it down to drape over them both. “JC,” Joey whispered, and delivered a kiss to his ear in the process. “Don’t get too comfortable.”

“Don’t…oh, I won’t,” JC said, feeling a bit foolish. He’s thought this- the cuddling- was something nice, something extra that didn’t usually happen with one night stands. He’d thought this was a different type of one night stand, though. So, he and Joey didn’t know each other very well, but there was something here, the beginnings of friendship, or something more. So he had thought.

“It’s just, the hot tub is in my room,” Joey explained. His hands traced comfortable lines up and down JC’s ribs. “And that’s where we wanna be right now, right?”

“Right,” JC said, smiling up at Joey even though it wasn’t entirely true. He couldn’t think of anyplace he’d rather be at that moment than where he was.