Fic: Jolene - Part 2 (Justin/Nick/Lance)
This got a bit darker, because I was reading The Vagaries of Disbelief before I wrote the last half.
Thank you to Saba for the read-through, thank you to Justin for completely surprising me with what you did toward the end, and thank you to everybody who commented to this entry for your input about the tenses problem. You might notice I stuck with the present tense.
for slashfic25, prompt #15: Forget
The story is a sequel to a Lambs threesome I wrote a while back -- now complete with a title: Jolene - Part 1. You won't quite understand this one if you haven't read it.
Jolene
Part 2
by mira
One day when Lance is finally better, they take him back to the place where they found him. Lance is still unsteady on his legs, leaning onto Nick when he needs to walk more than a few steps, but he wants to go.
The alley looks the same as the last time, only without the dead bodies - the bricks dark with dirt, the lamp over the backdoor of one of the surrounding buildings flickering. The blood's been washed away by the rain, but Justin can still smell it, sweet and sickening. He has to hold onto one of the dumpsters so he won't vomit all over the ground.
"This is where you found me?" Lance asks. There's nothing in his voice telling what he's feeling right now, no anger, no sadness, no hurt - nothing.
"Yeah," Nick says. "You were lying under - You were lying right here." He guides Lance closer to one of the walls. "You don't remember anything?"
Lance stares at the ground and the walls for a long time, searching, maybe, for the traces he must have left, searching for the traces in his mind. Eventually, he turns away. "No."
They sleep in their bed again, Lance between them, but it's different this time. This time, Lance goes to sleep with his hands already on Nick, their legs already tangled. Nick's hand reaches over Lance to touch Justin's hip, drawing him closer to the two of them, but it isn't the same, and they all know it.
Justin isn't sure what wakes him up, the scream or Lance kicking him in the shin. By the time he opens his eyes, Nick is already pressing Lance down into the mattress, muttering to him in broken sentences.
Lance is gasping and shaking, still kicking out, so Justin rolls over until they're both on top, holding him tightly. It hasn't been this bad since the first time.
When Nick leans down, Lance is still sobbing, and Nick licks the tears from under his eyes. "Who do you want?" Nick mutters and kisses him - a long deep kiss that has Lance straining up, his back trying to arch helplessly under their weight. "Who do you want? Justin or me?"
Justin doesn't know why he has to ask. It's always Nick the first time, always, and he's startled when he hears the quiet, "Justin."
"Okay," Nick whispers, dotting Lance's face with more kisses. "Okay." He helps both of them remove their clothes, stretching out on his side next to Justin, watching as Lance slides down Justin's body.
Justin didn't get it, at first, what Lance needed, how he needed it and why. Nick explained something about controlling from the bottom, but Justin never believed him, because frankly, who's the one with a cock in their mouth, huh? Lance, though, he does control, and he's cruel.
He sucks on the head for a long time before he even gets close to slipping more of it in his mouth, and when he does, his tongue is slow and easy and driving Justin slowly insane. Justin doesn't move. He doesn't even dare put his hands anywhere on Lance. Lance might bite him. Or scratch him - Lance's nails are already digging into Justin's hips like claws. Justin suddenly understands why Lance wanted him first: He can't do this with Nick, doesn't dare tease him like that. Justin feels helpless and small when he comes in Lance's mouth.
Lance doesn't talk for three days. Three days and three nights of rough desperate sex - Lance whining and twisting while Nick fucks him hard. Lance is always so exhausted that he falls asleep right after, while Nick puts his mouth on Justin's dick. Justin screams when he comes, and Lance doesn't wake up.
On the fourth day Lance sits down at the breakfast table and says, "They were my friends."
There's only one spoonful of coffee left - Justin sets enough water to boil for the three of them anyway. He cuts three thin slices from a loaf of stale bread.
"The ones who were with you?" Nick asks softly. Justin doesn't turn around, keeps his eyes on the water in the pot.
"They were my friends," Lance says again. "Some of them. We were out late, and they just walked up to us and pulled out their guns." Lance's voice is calm and detached, as if the last few days didn't even happen. As if none of this ever happened. "They forced us into that alley. We thought they were going to rob us, but they just started shooting."
Justin takes a coffeepot from the cabinet, and a sieve - they're out of filters as well.
"You were lucky," Nick says. "They didn't shoot you."
"I just don't understand," Lance says. "There's so many people been killed already, so many - Why do they have -"
There's a bang as Justin slams the coffeepot on the counter, shattering it into large shards of china. He's shaking and his hands are white-knuckled as he grips the counter, not caring if he gets splinters in his fingers. He has to force himself to breathe.
Lance and Nick have fallen silent behind him, and after a while there's the sound of a chair being pushed back and bare feet shuffling over the floor. A hand squeezes Justin's shoulder, too hesitant to be Nick's.
"I'm sorry," Lance whispers, and then he doesn't say anything for a while, just drops a kiss right next to where his hand is, warm through Justin's shirt.
Finally, when Justin has stopped trembling, Lance says, "Nick told me," and Justin snorts. He can't even be angry anymore, because of course Nick has told him - that's what they are doing now, sharing their secrets with Lance.
"It's not your fault," Justin says curtly.
"But you're still blaming me," Lance says quietly, his hand shifting awkwardly on Justin's shoulder.
Justin doesn't answer. He hears Nick get up from the table behind him, and then there are two arms around him, pulling him against the warm weight of Nick's soft body. Justin presses his face sideways into Nick's neck, inhaling the smell of sweat, and morning, and Nick underneath.
"You can't save everybody," Nick whispers into Justin's hair. He pulls back to kiss Justin, and Justin kisses back clumsily in Nick's embrace. He suddenly realizes that Lance won't ever take Nick away from him, not even if he wanted to. Nick kisses Lance over Justin's shoulder, and then Lance kisses Justin, just a brief touch of lips and tongue.
"But you can hold onto the ones you do," Nick says.
Thank you to Saba for the read-through, thank you to Justin for completely surprising me with what you did toward the end, and thank you to everybody who commented to this entry for your input about the tenses problem. You might notice I stuck with the present tense.
for slashfic25, prompt #15: Forget
The story is a sequel to a Lambs threesome I wrote a while back -- now complete with a title: Jolene - Part 1. You won't quite understand this one if you haven't read it.
Jolene
Part 2
by mira
One day when Lance is finally better, they take him back to the place where they found him. Lance is still unsteady on his legs, leaning onto Nick when he needs to walk more than a few steps, but he wants to go.
The alley looks the same as the last time, only without the dead bodies - the bricks dark with dirt, the lamp over the backdoor of one of the surrounding buildings flickering. The blood's been washed away by the rain, but Justin can still smell it, sweet and sickening. He has to hold onto one of the dumpsters so he won't vomit all over the ground.
"This is where you found me?" Lance asks. There's nothing in his voice telling what he's feeling right now, no anger, no sadness, no hurt - nothing.
"Yeah," Nick says. "You were lying under - You were lying right here." He guides Lance closer to one of the walls. "You don't remember anything?"
Lance stares at the ground and the walls for a long time, searching, maybe, for the traces he must have left, searching for the traces in his mind. Eventually, he turns away. "No."
They sleep in their bed again, Lance between them, but it's different this time. This time, Lance goes to sleep with his hands already on Nick, their legs already tangled. Nick's hand reaches over Lance to touch Justin's hip, drawing him closer to the two of them, but it isn't the same, and they all know it.
Justin isn't sure what wakes him up, the scream or Lance kicking him in the shin. By the time he opens his eyes, Nick is already pressing Lance down into the mattress, muttering to him in broken sentences.
Lance is gasping and shaking, still kicking out, so Justin rolls over until they're both on top, holding him tightly. It hasn't been this bad since the first time.
When Nick leans down, Lance is still sobbing, and Nick licks the tears from under his eyes. "Who do you want?" Nick mutters and kisses him - a long deep kiss that has Lance straining up, his back trying to arch helplessly under their weight. "Who do you want? Justin or me?"
Justin doesn't know why he has to ask. It's always Nick the first time, always, and he's startled when he hears the quiet, "Justin."
"Okay," Nick whispers, dotting Lance's face with more kisses. "Okay." He helps both of them remove their clothes, stretching out on his side next to Justin, watching as Lance slides down Justin's body.
Justin didn't get it, at first, what Lance needed, how he needed it and why. Nick explained something about controlling from the bottom, but Justin never believed him, because frankly, who's the one with a cock in their mouth, huh? Lance, though, he does control, and he's cruel.
He sucks on the head for a long time before he even gets close to slipping more of it in his mouth, and when he does, his tongue is slow and easy and driving Justin slowly insane. Justin doesn't move. He doesn't even dare put his hands anywhere on Lance. Lance might bite him. Or scratch him - Lance's nails are already digging into Justin's hips like claws. Justin suddenly understands why Lance wanted him first: He can't do this with Nick, doesn't dare tease him like that. Justin feels helpless and small when he comes in Lance's mouth.
Lance doesn't talk for three days. Three days and three nights of rough desperate sex - Lance whining and twisting while Nick fucks him hard. Lance is always so exhausted that he falls asleep right after, while Nick puts his mouth on Justin's dick. Justin screams when he comes, and Lance doesn't wake up.
On the fourth day Lance sits down at the breakfast table and says, "They were my friends."
There's only one spoonful of coffee left - Justin sets enough water to boil for the three of them anyway. He cuts three thin slices from a loaf of stale bread.
"The ones who were with you?" Nick asks softly. Justin doesn't turn around, keeps his eyes on the water in the pot.
"They were my friends," Lance says again. "Some of them. We were out late, and they just walked up to us and pulled out their guns." Lance's voice is calm and detached, as if the last few days didn't even happen. As if none of this ever happened. "They forced us into that alley. We thought they were going to rob us, but they just started shooting."
Justin takes a coffeepot from the cabinet, and a sieve - they're out of filters as well.
"You were lucky," Nick says. "They didn't shoot you."
"I just don't understand," Lance says. "There's so many people been killed already, so many - Why do they have -"
There's a bang as Justin slams the coffeepot on the counter, shattering it into large shards of china. He's shaking and his hands are white-knuckled as he grips the counter, not caring if he gets splinters in his fingers. He has to force himself to breathe.
Lance and Nick have fallen silent behind him, and after a while there's the sound of a chair being pushed back and bare feet shuffling over the floor. A hand squeezes Justin's shoulder, too hesitant to be Nick's.
"I'm sorry," Lance whispers, and then he doesn't say anything for a while, just drops a kiss right next to where his hand is, warm through Justin's shirt.
Finally, when Justin has stopped trembling, Lance says, "Nick told me," and Justin snorts. He can't even be angry anymore, because of course Nick has told him - that's what they are doing now, sharing their secrets with Lance.
"It's not your fault," Justin says curtly.
"But you're still blaming me," Lance says quietly, his hand shifting awkwardly on Justin's shoulder.
Justin doesn't answer. He hears Nick get up from the table behind him, and then there are two arms around him, pulling him against the warm weight of Nick's soft body. Justin presses his face sideways into Nick's neck, inhaling the smell of sweat, and morning, and Nick underneath.
"You can't save everybody," Nick whispers into Justin's hair. He pulls back to kiss Justin, and Justin kisses back clumsily in Nick's embrace. He suddenly realizes that Lance won't ever take Nick away from him, not even if he wanted to. Nick kisses Lance over Justin's shoulder, and then Lance kisses Justin, just a brief touch of lips and tongue.
"But you can hold onto the ones you do," Nick says.