old fic: switzerland (popslash)
by request from morgana_st, two stories from the popslash archive, no matter what i may think of them now! (in separate posts for length.)
Switzerland, co-written w/ Kel.
Chris/Lance/JC
Maybe this would be easier if one of us was tied up.
Chris and Lance hooked up on accident, so all the talking came afterward. Which was good, Chris decided, because it turned out that Lance really liked to talk about all that relationship shit and it was entirely possible that if they had done things Lance's way and talked about the ramifications before Chris stuck his tongue in Lance's mouth and a condom in Lance's hand, Chris might have been old and impotent before they ever got down to it.
Lance was also capable of talking about relationship shit anywhere, any time, any place. So after they'd had sex for the ninth time in five days, which was maybe enough to establish some sort of pattern, and they were lying on a hotel room floor all stuck together with sweat, Lance looked over and said, "I just want you to know that I think we should have an open relationship."
Chris eyed him suspiciously. "Who says we're having a relationship anyway, you ass? You've never had sex with someone before?"
Lance poked him hard in the side and said, "I know you. You're going to try to let this turn into some kind of relationship without talking about it, like how you acted like Dani had fallen out of the sky when she kept showing up on tour over and over. So I'm just saying, pop star lifestyle, millions of pretty screaming girls, let's not make any pledges of monogamy that we can't keep."
Chris snorted. "I don't know, maybe I missed something when you were very enthusiastically sucking my dick over there, but somehow I don't think the millions of pretty screaming girls would be much of a threat to our hypothetical relationship." He thrust against Lance for emphasis. One thing he had learned about Lance pretty quickly was that he was generally always ready for round two. Or round three.
Lance looked at him pointedly and pushed him away with a hand spread across Chris' chest. He left the hand in place, though, so Chris didn't complain. "Chris, I was talking about you. And the screaming girls. You think you can just up and commit to some guy and you won't miss that?"
"Jesus Christ!" Chris said. "A guy's queer for nearly thirty years and he falls off the wagon one time and suddenly he's, like, Joey or something, completely weak at the thought of pussy."
Lance sighed deeply, which would be pretty sexy if it wasn't so condescending. "Chris, you were with her for, like, a year and a half. It's not like she accidentally fell off a wagon onto your dick."
"So, shouldn't my year and a half with Dani show that I'm capable of a serious relationship?"
"Yeah, except for those fourteen or so times where you cheated on her with JC."
"Yeah, but everyone cheats on everyone with JC. JC is, like, the neutral zone of infidelity."
Lance rolled his eyes. "So, I'm just saying that we should create a relationship structure where everything is a neutral zone of infidelity."
Chris shoved him lightly on the shoulder, "Relationship structure? What is this, a joint business venture? So, what, cheating with JC, something I might add that you've done just as often as I have, is now not just okay, it's expected?"
Lance leaned in and kissed Chris fast and dirty. "You saying you wanna go hit on him right now? Because I think he brought someone back tonight."
Chris didn't.
So that was the arrangement. But Chris found pretty quickly that condoned cheating was without a lot of cheating's general appeal. And, plus, he was pretty fucking stubborn, so it maybe wasn't all that surprising when he looked up one day and realized that he hadn't fucked anyone but Lance any time in the last nine months and that he was pretty happy like that.
As far as Chris knew, Lance hadn't fucked anyone else either. Chris was pretty obviously nosy at the beginning, showing up at Lance's door even when he was too tired to do anything, just to lie in bed with Lance and make funny voices until Lance told him to shut the fuck up and go to sleep already.
And even now when they had spent more nights together than apart and there were as many pairs of Lance's starched white briefs in Chris' underwear drawer as his own loudly print boxers, they still hadn't ever come back and said so, okay, we're together and we're exclusive. So, technically, it was still an open relationship.
Then JC went through something of a scorching phase. It didn't really register for a week or so because they all did that occasionally and except for when they accidentally slept together and wound up in non-relationships, it didn't have any long-term consequences. Eventually whoever it was would get a haircut or not get a haircut and the thing that was cute would get chopped off or grow out and the painful hotness would recede to everyday bullshit.
"Oh my," Lance said when JC walked by, cloaked in a haze of aftershave and little feathers that fell from his peacock coat like snow.
"Fuck me," Chris said.
"Okay," Lance said, pushing Chris down the hall.
They were maybe about to go out after the first time but when Lance picked out this glittery shirt that maybe once belonged to JC and Chris sniffed the collar and it still smelled like him, so they wound up back in bed. And then on the floor.
"Was he always this fucking hot?" Chris asked, flicking his middle finger at Lance's breastbone. Lance flinched every time. It kind of never stopped being funny. Or sexy.
"Yup," Lance said, smugly. He batted Chris' hand lamely and cracked his neck.
Chris pinched his nipple. "D'you fuck him again?"
Lance opened one eye. "JC?"
"No, the other slutty guy walking around in chick's clothes who we've both fucked and maybe, like, declared Switzerland in the great non-monogamy wars."
"Sometimes I forget he's so hot," Lance said. He opened the other eye and peered at Chris. "Did you?"
Chris shrugged. "I kinda forgot."
"Huh," Lance said, and then, "I'm not sleeping on this carpet, get up."
Chris forgot again and he was pretty sure Lance had, too. And then JC's Armani top, which had actually been designed for Madonna before she got pregnant the second time, was ripped at some club. JC walked around for three whole days looking like he'd cry if you smiled too wide.
On the third day, after the second time, Lance put his chin on Chris' chest and said, "I just, I kinda feel bad, you know? Like, we should at least try to cheer him up."
"Like, in the buy him sparkly pants or chocolate or shit kind of way? Or in the trick him into coming over here with some ruse and then ravish him until he thinks Armani is Italian for the best gay sex he's ever had?"
"Hmm..." Lance's lips buzzed against Chris' stomach. "It's not cheating if we fuck him together, right?"
"I thought it wasn't cheating anyway," Chris said.
"Right," Lance said. "You wanna try that whole you can't sleep by yourself line again or do you think Justin told him about that?"
"Justin? Who told you?"
"Dipshit," Lance said fondly. "You did. It worked, though."
JC said he might have some chamomile tea if Chris wanted to come get it.
"Asshole," Lance said, rolling his eyes.
"He's feeling bad, you know. It's not his fault he doesn't know chamomile tea is code for winning a starring role in the gayest boyband show on earth."
"I meant you," Lance said. "How are we gonna seduce him if I'm not there?"
"You're doubting my skills?"
"I'm doubting the whole concept of a threesome when your ruse greatly resembles asking the neighbor for a cup of sugar, yes."
"Fine," Chris said. "You... You are getting very thirsty, are you not?"
"What is this, fucking Crossing Over?"
"Fuck, if you were thirsty you might decide to come get some of that there magical tea that JC's been talking about all week."
"That is so lame. That is --"
"You seriously suck at seduction," Chris said. "You have no respect for the art of the sleazy, see-through pick-up line and sometimes I cannot for the life of me remember why we started fucking in the first place."
"Because you couldn't sleep alone, Pee Wee."
Chris tackled Lance. Two hours later, after round number three, Chris pulled on boxers and jeans and strode shirtless down the hall. If JC actually got around to making him a cup of fucking tea before this shit started for real, it was going to have to be caffeinated.
JC answered the door wearing a pair of sweatpants that were too big and a Drowned World tour t-shirt that was too small. The resulting two inch stripe of smooth, exposed skin was suddenly the sexiest thing that Chris had ever seen, like he'd never seen JC before, didn't know exactly what he tasted like above the hemline of his little shrunken t-shirt and below the waistband of those pants, too.
"Tea?" JC said expectantly and Chris looked up to meet his earnest gaze and nodded. "I've got the leaves right here, but I had to call for a kettle," JC said. "It should be here soon."
Chris nodded again because he didn't even need to close his eyes to imagine what JC looked like naked.
"This stuff is great, man, seriously," JC said, plopping down on the bed and folding his legs up like a pretzel. "I got it from this little organic store that's, like, three blocks from my house in LA and the chick there, she says, hey, man are you even listening?"
Chris wasn't listening, he was remembering that JC had a birthmark shaped like a candy cane on the back of his left thigh, just below the curve of his ass. He claimed it could feel it on his body even though he couldn't see it, and he had always laughed when ever Chris had licked at it, so maybe he could. The backs of JC's thighs tasted like sugar. "Sorry," Chris said, "I'm just, you know." He waved a vague hand around helplessly. "My head."
JC nodded. "Right, of course, you can't sleep, your head must be killing you. Don't worry, man this'll fix you right up." Chris returned the nod. If his head hurt at all, it was from when Lance had accidentally rolled him off the bed with a little too much enthusiasm sometime between rounds one and two.
JC kept looking at him and then he grinned and said, "I know how you get when you can't sleep."
The last time Chris and JC had fucked before Chris tripped over Lance and ended up in a nine month long officially non-monogamous relationship had been on the bus. Justin had been traveling separately with Britney and Chris had complained long and loudly that the best way to kick his bouts of insomnia was some late night Playstation and where the fuck was Justin when you needed him?
JC loved sleep more than anything and so he said that insomnia made him terribly sad. He had been willing to do pretty much anything to help except play video games. Finally, he had said, "What about a blowjob, would that help?" and Chris had nodded, eyes wide, and started to unbutton his pants until JC had batted his hands away and finished the job with his mouth.
Chris looked up at smiling, smug JC and nodded again. Maybe he could negotiate the entire seduction with sign language.
A knock on the door and Chris practically jumped up from where he was slouched against the wall. "Probably the water," he yelped, grateful to have regained the use of nearly complete sentences. "I'll get it." He strode over, opened the door and found Lance. "Hi!"
Lance took a step back. Chris thought perhaps he had said that with a little too much bewilderment.
"Hey, man," JC said, waving. Lance waved in return. "You having trouble sleeping, too?"
Chris made wide eyes at Lance, mouthing "help me," and then let him in. Chris leaned against the door and Lance bent forward like he was going to kiss Chris but just slowly, very deliberately, locked the deadbolt.
"Lance is very safe," Chris said to JC. "He likes to make sure that no one --"
Lance's hand came down on Chris' mouth. "The thing is," Lance told JC. "Is that really we were just wondering if maybe you wanted to have sex."
JC's throat worked up and down but no sound came out. Chris really liked the kind of sign language plans where if you got rejected you could always just blame it on the translation.
"With us," Lance said, "to clarify. But Chris had this whole thing about how he couldn't sleep and I told him that you wouldn't need a, like, excuse, but you know how he can --"
"Okay," JC said. "You want -- you probably mean, like, right now, right?" JC put his hand on the hem of his shirt. Lance smiled and shrugged.
"Whoa cowboy," Chris said. "There's, like, there are rules for this kind of thing."
"Rules?" Lance and JC said at the same time.
"There's, you know, an order. A method. You can't just go and --" JC pulled his shirt over his head. Chris sighed.
"At the same time?" JC asked, fingering the cord on his sweatpants. "Or, like, first one and then the other?"
Lance grinned like a wolf and said, "Both, silly."
Chris shook his head. "You're talking, like, entirely too much," he said, and walked over and kissed JC. JC put his hands around Chris' neck and sucked on his bottom lip.
Chris had kind of forgotten, in his eternity of non-monogamous exclusivity, that not everyone kissed like Lance. JC kissed like a songbird, like he was searching for something in the way his arms danced around Chris' waist, in the way he let Chris nip at his neck but didn't moan out loud. But there was Lance, palm on Chris' cheek, turning his face and licking at Chris' mouth. JC dragged his mouth down the side of Chris' jaw, and when Chris took a breath and opened his eyes for a second he saw that JC had buried his hands in Lance's hair.
Lance kissed just like he always did, hungry and hard and utterly sure he'd get to take what he wanted. Chris pretty much always gave it to him. JC's tongue moved from Chris' jaw to his ear and Lance acquiesced Chris' mouth to gnaw on JC's collarbone, stopping only when room service knocked loudly. "Go away!" Lance yelled, and then it was quiet again.
Chris wasn't quite sure when he'd drawn the straw to be in the middle but he wasn't really going to complain. Not yet. Though if Lance didn't take off his goddamn shirt right quick he'd feel perfectly okay complaining. JC let go of Chris' tongue for a second and Chris said, one hand up under the fabric of Lance's chest, "Off." Lance chuckled and peeled the shirt off.
"Happy?" Lance said, low in his throat, and JC attacked Lance's left nipple.
"Believe me," Chris said, bending to reach the other, "when I'm happy, you're gonna know, you're gonna --"
JC said, "Shhhh."
Lance muttered, "We're not in a fucking library," and dragged Chris up to kiss him. Chris hummed "Marion, madame librarian" against Lance's lips and JC actually stepped back.
"Are we auditioning for a musical or having sex here, guys?"
Lance giggled but JC didn't laugh, and Chris pinched Lance in the ribs to get him to shut up.
JC said, "If you guys aren't serious, then I don't know what the --"
Lance kissed JC and Chris sang in his head, trouble with a capital T and that rhymes with C and that stands for -- but then JC put his hands down the front of Chris' jeans and Chris stopped rhyming at all.
Chris had been in exactly one threesome before, ever. He wasn't the kind of guy who went around trying to figure out how to fit more dicks in his body when he often had trouble knowing what to do with the owner of just one the morning after. One threesome and really they'd all been seventeen and the sex consisted of handjobs and humping each others' legs, so he wasn't even sure that counted.
Lance had professed to have never had one but Chris wasn't so sure he believed that. Lance seemed pretty sure of where everyone's hands and mouths were supposed to go and somewhere in the last few minutes he'd steered them over to the bed and gotten them the rest of the way naked. Chris didn't quite understand how Lance could keep track of so many limbs while JC was licking his chest. Chris could usually manage to come up with some witty banter but only if they were lying down and he didn't have to open his eyes. Chris liked sleeping with Lance because even when Lance was coming like every nerve in his body was on fire he could still talk.
On the bed, Lance was now on his back and JC and Chris flanked each side, licking and sucking and it was okay except Chris' left arm was starting to go numb and he couldn't just swap to Lance's other side to get some relief. He sat up. "Let's, can we, like, rotate or something?"
JC frowned and Lance stretched his arm, shifting to lie on one hip, putting Chris back in the middle with a light slap to Chris' ass.
"C'mere, baby," Lance said, kissing Chris' neck as he pulled him down. JC bent to Chris' nipple like it was an assembly line, but Chris didn't really like thinking assembly line when he was supposed to be fucking two really hot guys because it was just a little to close to gangbang and that was a word that should never go in the same sentence as guys like JC and Lance.
He was supposed to be fucking two really hot guys, Chris remembered. That was a good thing. That was not an awkward thing, or if it was, it didn't matter, because the greater good of the incredible hotness of fucking both Lance and JC should really outweigh any minor inconveniences or bizarre shooting pains in his shoulder from trying to reach the curve of JC's ass while Lance pinned Chris down and JC licked up Lance's spine.
Chris liked the part where he watched JC with Lance, because it was a long time since they had a bus with a mirrored ceiling and since then he and Lance had maybe done everything else but ask to borrow Joey's video camera. Chris had trouble keeping his eyes open when he was fucking Lance or Lance was fucking him, because being naked and sweaty with Lance was kind of overwhelming. And when Lance was whispering dirty jokes in his ear it basically melted away any chance Chris had left of saving anything from the assault but his eyesight.
Now, though. He could ease into the pillows, move JC's hands from his stomach to Lance's, and watch Lance arch his back. "Oh, fuck," Lance moaned, and JC covered Lance's mouth in kisses and little "shh" noises.
Chris grabbed his cock and yelped "god" as loudly as possible, exaggerating the whine until Lance batted a hand at his chest, not even opening his eyes and managing to knock Chris square in the sternum.
"Don't be all --" Lance said, and JC raised his head and frowned. "Don't distract him from that, just 'cause you --"
"Okay, okay," Chris said, biting at Lance's shoulder. JC squinted at him. "Go on already," Chris said, waving his hand over Lance's naked body like a wand. "Go forth and plunder and I'll just be over here, don't mind me."
"I only have one mouth," JC said, as if Chris were a three-year-old trying to shove Mr. Potato Head's plastic lips into the hole where they ear was supposed to go. "I promise I'll --"
"He's so cute when he's tryin' to be all fair," Lance muttered. He lifted his head, chin almost touching his chest. He looked at JC. "Go ahead, honey, keep doing whatever you want."
JC licked his way down Lance's stomach and Chris slid down on the bed so his face was near Lance's hip. He reached a hand over to lift Lance's dick to JC's mouth. This was pretty hot, actually getting to see Lance get a blowjob and all. Chris put his other hand back on his cock, with actual purpose this time, not just to annoy JC. JC's lips slid wetly over Chris' knuckles and Chris' mouth fell open. This was really fucking hot.
JC did it again, and Lance's hand grasped for purchase and came down hard into Chris' hair and Chris flinched, knocking his hand into JC's mouth. It was like this fucked-up reverse chain reaction, Lance's hand and Chris' hand and what, by the sound of it, were probably JC's teeth as he pulled back with a muffled cry.
Lance groaned. Not a good groan. Not a harder-faster kind of groan. "What did you do, Chris?" he asked, neck loose on the pillow.
Chris buried his face in the bedsheets, shaking his head. When he looked up, JC was sitting back on his heels, wiping his mouth and looking caught between apologizing for the worst sin known to man and wanting to tell Chris to take his sleepless nights and shove them. "Maybe this would be easier if one of us was tied up," JC finally said.
"If that one of us is you and somehow there was a gag involved," Chris said, "I'd be really in favor of that plan."
"I'm not the one who can't shut up for one minute," JC said. "And anyway nobody asked you to help out with that, I was doing just fine until you --"
"Hey! That wasn't my fault, with the hand thing there, that was --"
Lance sat up. "That was my dick that got caught in the middle there, and I'm blaming both of y'all unless someone starts doing something to rectify the situation right goddamn now."
JC looked at Chris. Chris looked at JC. Lance sighed and flopped back and stared at the ceiling.
"Okay!" JC said, throwing up his hands. "I've got some shirts you can use, but one of them is new so if they get torn or something I'm gonna be really pissed off." He walked to the closet and rummaged through a bag. "I am not putting one of these in my mouth, no way."
Chris lay up against Lance's side and licked at his neck. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I should keep my hands to myself, I know, it's just that it's really fucking hot watching someone blow you and I can't exactly see it from that angle when it's me, and --"
Lance kissed him, rough and angry, and Chris wrapped one leg around Lance's waist. "You better fucking make it up to me," Lance said, biting at Chris' lip.
"I will, I will." Chris petted Lance's dick gently and let Lance drive the kiss however he wanted to. God, he fucking loved kissing Lance. Nine months and they fucked like rabbits but really Chris thought that if he were paralyzed in some tragic stage accident, if he got dropped out of some fly rig, it wouldn't matter as long as they could still kiss.
Someone kicked at his shin, hard, and Chris pulled back. JC was standing at the foot of the bed holding two sheer pink scarves.
"I forgot I had these," JC said, though clearly he was lying. How could you forget having sheer pink scarves in your duffel, anyway. "Is someone going to tie me up now?"
Lance said, "You better let me. Sometimes Chris gets a little..."
"I do not."
"Chris," Lance said. "Last time you made some knot that only exists in your own particular boy scout guide or something and we had to get Lonnie to go buy a real pair of scissors because nothing in your shaving kit or mine was going to be enough to saw through and no way would it ever come untied like a normal knot."
"Fine," Chris said. "Whatever. Tie him up already."
All trussed up to the bedframe, hair all curly and shiny with sweat, JC was really probably the prettiest boy Chris had ever seen. Even Lance wasn't that pretty. Lance was hot, but he wasn't pretty like that.
"I take it all back," Chris said, and fell on top of JC. He straddled him, kissing JC's neck, running light fingers down JC's arms so JC swallowed giggles and whimpers, making smothered clicks like a dolphin on one of those nature shows.
Lance worked his fingers down under JC's body, then pulled his hand back and got up off the bed.
"Oh," JC whispered. "Lance, Lance. Come back. We didn't forget about you, come back."
Lance didn't break stride to the bathroom and JC tugged at his silly pink scarves. Chris sucked on a nipple and JC shimmied his hips and for a second Chris didn't miss Lance at all. Then the bed shifted and Lance was kneeling next to them, his hand on Chris' waist. "Somehow I feel I should be less surprised you've graduated to the pump size," Lance said, and Chris saw he was dipping fingers into a pool of lube carefully cradled in one palm.
"Sometimes you need a lot," JC said, defensively, but when Chris rose up on his knees JC shifted his hips up to allow Lance access all the same.
Chris was trying to find a way to gracefully un-straddle JC so he could watch Lance finger him and maybe even help but it took three tries to get one knee between JC's legs. When he tried to move the other without bumping Lance's arm he had to grab the headboard so he didn't fall. Lance was chewing on his own lip, slowly working a second finger in, not paying attention and Chris wondered if he had to fall off the goddamned bed or something to get Lance to break rhythm. "Hey," he said, and Lance immediately looked over, not stopping but still locking eyes with Chris.
"You okay?" Lance asked softly, and Chris nodded. He traced the curve of Lance's shoulderblade with one hand and rubbed JC's stomach lightly with the other. Lance leaned in and kissed him and Chris tried to focus on just that, on the kiss, not how his knees were fucking killing him or that the adrenaline of the kinkiness of it all had worn off and he was just getting tired.
Two hot guys. The greater good of great sex awaited here if he could just stay awake and alert a little longer. Fucking two hot guys and one of them was Lance, Lance who would try anything Chris thought was even remotely hot and only laughed at him after they'd decided if it was worth trying again.
God, Chris realized, his tongue twisting around Lance's. He really fucking loved this guy. This guy here, the one with his tongue in Chris' mouth, not the one whose dick he kept bumping with his wrist, not that he didn't love JC too. But. Nine months and if Chris was being honest with himself he really didn't care if he never fucked another guy ever if he got to keep Lance a while longer.
"I wanna watch you fuck C," Lance said against Chris' lips, soft but not so quietly that JC didn't hear. JC moaned and let his knees fall farther apart. He hooked one ankle around Chris' waist and then kind of walked his heel up until it rested on Chris' upper back. Jesus Christ, JC was flexible. Also even his heels were skinny and pointy-feeling.
Chris took hold of JC's ankle, leaning back so he could sling it over his shoulder, from the front this time. Lance's hand moved in and out and Chris could see the tendon in his wrist flex as he crooked his fingers. JC dug his pointy heel into Chris' back and shouted, which would have been bearable except then he kicked his other foot up, too, catching Chris square in the eye.
"Motherfuck!" Chris yelled, falling backwards on the bed. Without Chris' shoulders to support them, JC's legs dropped straight down, missing Chris' dick by a hair's breadth. Chris windmilled, trying to avoid sudden castration. Lance reached for Chris' wrist so he wouldn't slide right off the bed, but his fingers on one hand were still wet and sticky from JC and the other still had a palmful of economy lube, so Chris had to break his fall with a hand over his head, knuckles pressed against the carpet.
Lance dried one hand on the sheets and reached down, heaving Chris back up. "Baby," he said, kissing Chris' forehead.
JC cleared his throat. "Maybe someone should --"
Lance pressed a hand to JC's ankle. "You okay?" he asked Chris again, and Chris knew suddenly, he could tell that if he wanted to call it an evening right then, Lance would go with him. Lance ran his thumb around Chris mouth, staring intently. He stared and stared and didn't even seem to blink, which really probably wasn't possible but anyway that's what it felt like to Chris.
Chris finally closed his eyes and blindly found his way to press his mouth into Lance's neck. "I love you," he said, right in Lance's ear, just for him.
Lance swallowed hard and said, loudly, "So are you gonna finish this thing or what?" But he brought his hand up off JC and held Chris' face. "Me too," he mumbled into Chris' mouth. "I -- yeah. Me too."
Chris kissed Lance and it was like he knew as weird or stupid the whole idea of a threesome had been, somehow it had just moved them forward, off whatever stupid fence of non-commitment they'd been straddling all this time.
"Um," JC said. "Guys?"
Lance broke the kiss, chuckling, and Chris growled at him. "You," Chris said. "Everyone who votes for Lance to step in and play the relief pitcher raise his hand." He looked over at JC, all strung up and nowhere to go, and JC wiggled his fingers on both hands. "It's unanimous," he said, giving Lance one last peck on the cheek and then coming around JC's side to kiss him, too. "Besides. I had sex three times tonight already. Some of us are not horny teenagers anymore."
"In the bathroom," JC said, rubbing his cheek against Chris'. "In the pocket of my Dopp kit, there's some --"
"Shit, C," Chris said. "Take a hint. Lance isn't actually a consolation prize in this department, I promise."
"I know," JC said, "remember?"
"Yeah," Chris said, "but maybe he's picked up some new tricks since then."
"Hey," Lance said, slapping Chris' ass. "Standing right here, hello?" Chris raised an eyebrow and Lance amended, "Okay, kneeling, same difference, and maybe you don't need to discuss my sexual prowess like I'm not even in the room, okay?"
"Okay, Mr. Director sir, do you want me to adjust the lighting over here, too? Because I think at this point we've got more mood, more atmosphere than is really necessary and --"
"You guys," JC said.
"I'm getting a condom," Lance said, leaning off the bed to find his pants. "Just, like, Chris, can't you give the man a blowjob or something here while I'm --"
"You guys are so cute," JC said.
Chris nipped at JC's stomach. "Watch who you callin' cute, pretty boy."
"Yeah," Lance said, as he popped back up, foil square triumphantly in hand. "I promise you this is not going to feel cute."
"I mean," JC started. Chris looked up and JC smiled sweetly. "It's really nice of you guys to let me, you know. See you like this. Together. You're all really cute together."
Lance rubbed Chris' back and Chris tried not to grin too widely. They were cute together. They were in love and they were cute and even JC, JC who maybe believed once upon a time that Chris was actually tired, could see that they were cute. And together. And happy.
"The thing about Switzerland," Chris said, because after all here he was with two fucking gorgeous naked guys all in one bed and they didn't have to not enjoy playing at being porn stars just to prove a point. "There's something about just, like, knowing it's there. To keep the peace. It keeps things safe and sound, you know?"
"What?" JC's voice went from breathy to flat-out hoarse as Lance pushed his fingers in again. "What?" JC said again, only the second time it sounded more like a moan.
"Chris," Lance said, and Chris licked carefully around JC's bellybutton before looking up. "Look at this." Lance ran a hand from JC's corded shoulders down his ribs and ended by stroking Chris' jaw where it rested on JC's hip. "We can talk peace treaties later. Look at him."
Chris stared at Lance, at Lance's long torso looming above him, slick and ready. Lance rubbed at Chris' mouth and Chris said, "I'm looking."
END.
Switzerland, co-written w/ Kel.
Chris/Lance/JC
Maybe this would be easier if one of us was tied up.
Chris and Lance hooked up on accident, so all the talking came afterward. Which was good, Chris decided, because it turned out that Lance really liked to talk about all that relationship shit and it was entirely possible that if they had done things Lance's way and talked about the ramifications before Chris stuck his tongue in Lance's mouth and a condom in Lance's hand, Chris might have been old and impotent before they ever got down to it.
Lance was also capable of talking about relationship shit anywhere, any time, any place. So after they'd had sex for the ninth time in five days, which was maybe enough to establish some sort of pattern, and they were lying on a hotel room floor all stuck together with sweat, Lance looked over and said, "I just want you to know that I think we should have an open relationship."
Chris eyed him suspiciously. "Who says we're having a relationship anyway, you ass? You've never had sex with someone before?"
Lance poked him hard in the side and said, "I know you. You're going to try to let this turn into some kind of relationship without talking about it, like how you acted like Dani had fallen out of the sky when she kept showing up on tour over and over. So I'm just saying, pop star lifestyle, millions of pretty screaming girls, let's not make any pledges of monogamy that we can't keep."
Chris snorted. "I don't know, maybe I missed something when you were very enthusiastically sucking my dick over there, but somehow I don't think the millions of pretty screaming girls would be much of a threat to our hypothetical relationship." He thrust against Lance for emphasis. One thing he had learned about Lance pretty quickly was that he was generally always ready for round two. Or round three.
Lance looked at him pointedly and pushed him away with a hand spread across Chris' chest. He left the hand in place, though, so Chris didn't complain. "Chris, I was talking about you. And the screaming girls. You think you can just up and commit to some guy and you won't miss that?"
"Jesus Christ!" Chris said. "A guy's queer for nearly thirty years and he falls off the wagon one time and suddenly he's, like, Joey or something, completely weak at the thought of pussy."
Lance sighed deeply, which would be pretty sexy if it wasn't so condescending. "Chris, you were with her for, like, a year and a half. It's not like she accidentally fell off a wagon onto your dick."
"So, shouldn't my year and a half with Dani show that I'm capable of a serious relationship?"
"Yeah, except for those fourteen or so times where you cheated on her with JC."
"Yeah, but everyone cheats on everyone with JC. JC is, like, the neutral zone of infidelity."
Lance rolled his eyes. "So, I'm just saying that we should create a relationship structure where everything is a neutral zone of infidelity."
Chris shoved him lightly on the shoulder, "Relationship structure? What is this, a joint business venture? So, what, cheating with JC, something I might add that you've done just as often as I have, is now not just okay, it's expected?"
Lance leaned in and kissed Chris fast and dirty. "You saying you wanna go hit on him right now? Because I think he brought someone back tonight."
Chris didn't.
So that was the arrangement. But Chris found pretty quickly that condoned cheating was without a lot of cheating's general appeal. And, plus, he was pretty fucking stubborn, so it maybe wasn't all that surprising when he looked up one day and realized that he hadn't fucked anyone but Lance any time in the last nine months and that he was pretty happy like that.
As far as Chris knew, Lance hadn't fucked anyone else either. Chris was pretty obviously nosy at the beginning, showing up at Lance's door even when he was too tired to do anything, just to lie in bed with Lance and make funny voices until Lance told him to shut the fuck up and go to sleep already.
And even now when they had spent more nights together than apart and there were as many pairs of Lance's starched white briefs in Chris' underwear drawer as his own loudly print boxers, they still hadn't ever come back and said so, okay, we're together and we're exclusive. So, technically, it was still an open relationship.
Then JC went through something of a scorching phase. It didn't really register for a week or so because they all did that occasionally and except for when they accidentally slept together and wound up in non-relationships, it didn't have any long-term consequences. Eventually whoever it was would get a haircut or not get a haircut and the thing that was cute would get chopped off or grow out and the painful hotness would recede to everyday bullshit.
"Oh my," Lance said when JC walked by, cloaked in a haze of aftershave and little feathers that fell from his peacock coat like snow.
"Fuck me," Chris said.
"Okay," Lance said, pushing Chris down the hall.
They were maybe about to go out after the first time but when Lance picked out this glittery shirt that maybe once belonged to JC and Chris sniffed the collar and it still smelled like him, so they wound up back in bed. And then on the floor.
"Was he always this fucking hot?" Chris asked, flicking his middle finger at Lance's breastbone. Lance flinched every time. It kind of never stopped being funny. Or sexy.
"Yup," Lance said, smugly. He batted Chris' hand lamely and cracked his neck.
Chris pinched his nipple. "D'you fuck him again?"
Lance opened one eye. "JC?"
"No, the other slutty guy walking around in chick's clothes who we've both fucked and maybe, like, declared Switzerland in the great non-monogamy wars."
"Sometimes I forget he's so hot," Lance said. He opened the other eye and peered at Chris. "Did you?"
Chris shrugged. "I kinda forgot."
"Huh," Lance said, and then, "I'm not sleeping on this carpet, get up."
Chris forgot again and he was pretty sure Lance had, too. And then JC's Armani top, which had actually been designed for Madonna before she got pregnant the second time, was ripped at some club. JC walked around for three whole days looking like he'd cry if you smiled too wide.
On the third day, after the second time, Lance put his chin on Chris' chest and said, "I just, I kinda feel bad, you know? Like, we should at least try to cheer him up."
"Like, in the buy him sparkly pants or chocolate or shit kind of way? Or in the trick him into coming over here with some ruse and then ravish him until he thinks Armani is Italian for the best gay sex he's ever had?"
"Hmm..." Lance's lips buzzed against Chris' stomach. "It's not cheating if we fuck him together, right?"
"I thought it wasn't cheating anyway," Chris said.
"Right," Lance said. "You wanna try that whole you can't sleep by yourself line again or do you think Justin told him about that?"
"Justin? Who told you?"
"Dipshit," Lance said fondly. "You did. It worked, though."
JC said he might have some chamomile tea if Chris wanted to come get it.
"Asshole," Lance said, rolling his eyes.
"He's feeling bad, you know. It's not his fault he doesn't know chamomile tea is code for winning a starring role in the gayest boyband show on earth."
"I meant you," Lance said. "How are we gonna seduce him if I'm not there?"
"You're doubting my skills?"
"I'm doubting the whole concept of a threesome when your ruse greatly resembles asking the neighbor for a cup of sugar, yes."
"Fine," Chris said. "You... You are getting very thirsty, are you not?"
"What is this, fucking Crossing Over?"
"Fuck, if you were thirsty you might decide to come get some of that there magical tea that JC's been talking about all week."
"That is so lame. That is --"
"You seriously suck at seduction," Chris said. "You have no respect for the art of the sleazy, see-through pick-up line and sometimes I cannot for the life of me remember why we started fucking in the first place."
"Because you couldn't sleep alone, Pee Wee."
Chris tackled Lance. Two hours later, after round number three, Chris pulled on boxers and jeans and strode shirtless down the hall. If JC actually got around to making him a cup of fucking tea before this shit started for real, it was going to have to be caffeinated.
JC answered the door wearing a pair of sweatpants that were too big and a Drowned World tour t-shirt that was too small. The resulting two inch stripe of smooth, exposed skin was suddenly the sexiest thing that Chris had ever seen, like he'd never seen JC before, didn't know exactly what he tasted like above the hemline of his little shrunken t-shirt and below the waistband of those pants, too.
"Tea?" JC said expectantly and Chris looked up to meet his earnest gaze and nodded. "I've got the leaves right here, but I had to call for a kettle," JC said. "It should be here soon."
Chris nodded again because he didn't even need to close his eyes to imagine what JC looked like naked.
"This stuff is great, man, seriously," JC said, plopping down on the bed and folding his legs up like a pretzel. "I got it from this little organic store that's, like, three blocks from my house in LA and the chick there, she says, hey, man are you even listening?"
Chris wasn't listening, he was remembering that JC had a birthmark shaped like a candy cane on the back of his left thigh, just below the curve of his ass. He claimed it could feel it on his body even though he couldn't see it, and he had always laughed when ever Chris had licked at it, so maybe he could. The backs of JC's thighs tasted like sugar. "Sorry," Chris said, "I'm just, you know." He waved a vague hand around helplessly. "My head."
JC nodded. "Right, of course, you can't sleep, your head must be killing you. Don't worry, man this'll fix you right up." Chris returned the nod. If his head hurt at all, it was from when Lance had accidentally rolled him off the bed with a little too much enthusiasm sometime between rounds one and two.
JC kept looking at him and then he grinned and said, "I know how you get when you can't sleep."
The last time Chris and JC had fucked before Chris tripped over Lance and ended up in a nine month long officially non-monogamous relationship had been on the bus. Justin had been traveling separately with Britney and Chris had complained long and loudly that the best way to kick his bouts of insomnia was some late night Playstation and where the fuck was Justin when you needed him?
JC loved sleep more than anything and so he said that insomnia made him terribly sad. He had been willing to do pretty much anything to help except play video games. Finally, he had said, "What about a blowjob, would that help?" and Chris had nodded, eyes wide, and started to unbutton his pants until JC had batted his hands away and finished the job with his mouth.
Chris looked up at smiling, smug JC and nodded again. Maybe he could negotiate the entire seduction with sign language.
A knock on the door and Chris practically jumped up from where he was slouched against the wall. "Probably the water," he yelped, grateful to have regained the use of nearly complete sentences. "I'll get it." He strode over, opened the door and found Lance. "Hi!"
Lance took a step back. Chris thought perhaps he had said that with a little too much bewilderment.
"Hey, man," JC said, waving. Lance waved in return. "You having trouble sleeping, too?"
Chris made wide eyes at Lance, mouthing "help me," and then let him in. Chris leaned against the door and Lance bent forward like he was going to kiss Chris but just slowly, very deliberately, locked the deadbolt.
"Lance is very safe," Chris said to JC. "He likes to make sure that no one --"
Lance's hand came down on Chris' mouth. "The thing is," Lance told JC. "Is that really we were just wondering if maybe you wanted to have sex."
JC's throat worked up and down but no sound came out. Chris really liked the kind of sign language plans where if you got rejected you could always just blame it on the translation.
"With us," Lance said, "to clarify. But Chris had this whole thing about how he couldn't sleep and I told him that you wouldn't need a, like, excuse, but you know how he can --"
"Okay," JC said. "You want -- you probably mean, like, right now, right?" JC put his hand on the hem of his shirt. Lance smiled and shrugged.
"Whoa cowboy," Chris said. "There's, like, there are rules for this kind of thing."
"Rules?" Lance and JC said at the same time.
"There's, you know, an order. A method. You can't just go and --" JC pulled his shirt over his head. Chris sighed.
"At the same time?" JC asked, fingering the cord on his sweatpants. "Or, like, first one and then the other?"
Lance grinned like a wolf and said, "Both, silly."
Chris shook his head. "You're talking, like, entirely too much," he said, and walked over and kissed JC. JC put his hands around Chris' neck and sucked on his bottom lip.
Chris had kind of forgotten, in his eternity of non-monogamous exclusivity, that not everyone kissed like Lance. JC kissed like a songbird, like he was searching for something in the way his arms danced around Chris' waist, in the way he let Chris nip at his neck but didn't moan out loud. But there was Lance, palm on Chris' cheek, turning his face and licking at Chris' mouth. JC dragged his mouth down the side of Chris' jaw, and when Chris took a breath and opened his eyes for a second he saw that JC had buried his hands in Lance's hair.
Lance kissed just like he always did, hungry and hard and utterly sure he'd get to take what he wanted. Chris pretty much always gave it to him. JC's tongue moved from Chris' jaw to his ear and Lance acquiesced Chris' mouth to gnaw on JC's collarbone, stopping only when room service knocked loudly. "Go away!" Lance yelled, and then it was quiet again.
Chris wasn't quite sure when he'd drawn the straw to be in the middle but he wasn't really going to complain. Not yet. Though if Lance didn't take off his goddamn shirt right quick he'd feel perfectly okay complaining. JC let go of Chris' tongue for a second and Chris said, one hand up under the fabric of Lance's chest, "Off." Lance chuckled and peeled the shirt off.
"Happy?" Lance said, low in his throat, and JC attacked Lance's left nipple.
"Believe me," Chris said, bending to reach the other, "when I'm happy, you're gonna know, you're gonna --"
JC said, "Shhhh."
Lance muttered, "We're not in a fucking library," and dragged Chris up to kiss him. Chris hummed "Marion, madame librarian" against Lance's lips and JC actually stepped back.
"Are we auditioning for a musical or having sex here, guys?"
Lance giggled but JC didn't laugh, and Chris pinched Lance in the ribs to get him to shut up.
JC said, "If you guys aren't serious, then I don't know what the --"
Lance kissed JC and Chris sang in his head, trouble with a capital T and that rhymes with C and that stands for -- but then JC put his hands down the front of Chris' jeans and Chris stopped rhyming at all.
Chris had been in exactly one threesome before, ever. He wasn't the kind of guy who went around trying to figure out how to fit more dicks in his body when he often had trouble knowing what to do with the owner of just one the morning after. One threesome and really they'd all been seventeen and the sex consisted of handjobs and humping each others' legs, so he wasn't even sure that counted.
Lance had professed to have never had one but Chris wasn't so sure he believed that. Lance seemed pretty sure of where everyone's hands and mouths were supposed to go and somewhere in the last few minutes he'd steered them over to the bed and gotten them the rest of the way naked. Chris didn't quite understand how Lance could keep track of so many limbs while JC was licking his chest. Chris could usually manage to come up with some witty banter but only if they were lying down and he didn't have to open his eyes. Chris liked sleeping with Lance because even when Lance was coming like every nerve in his body was on fire he could still talk.
On the bed, Lance was now on his back and JC and Chris flanked each side, licking and sucking and it was okay except Chris' left arm was starting to go numb and he couldn't just swap to Lance's other side to get some relief. He sat up. "Let's, can we, like, rotate or something?"
JC frowned and Lance stretched his arm, shifting to lie on one hip, putting Chris back in the middle with a light slap to Chris' ass.
"C'mere, baby," Lance said, kissing Chris' neck as he pulled him down. JC bent to Chris' nipple like it was an assembly line, but Chris didn't really like thinking assembly line when he was supposed to be fucking two really hot guys because it was just a little to close to gangbang and that was a word that should never go in the same sentence as guys like JC and Lance.
He was supposed to be fucking two really hot guys, Chris remembered. That was a good thing. That was not an awkward thing, or if it was, it didn't matter, because the greater good of the incredible hotness of fucking both Lance and JC should really outweigh any minor inconveniences or bizarre shooting pains in his shoulder from trying to reach the curve of JC's ass while Lance pinned Chris down and JC licked up Lance's spine.
Chris liked the part where he watched JC with Lance, because it was a long time since they had a bus with a mirrored ceiling and since then he and Lance had maybe done everything else but ask to borrow Joey's video camera. Chris had trouble keeping his eyes open when he was fucking Lance or Lance was fucking him, because being naked and sweaty with Lance was kind of overwhelming. And when Lance was whispering dirty jokes in his ear it basically melted away any chance Chris had left of saving anything from the assault but his eyesight.
Now, though. He could ease into the pillows, move JC's hands from his stomach to Lance's, and watch Lance arch his back. "Oh, fuck," Lance moaned, and JC covered Lance's mouth in kisses and little "shh" noises.
Chris grabbed his cock and yelped "god" as loudly as possible, exaggerating the whine until Lance batted a hand at his chest, not even opening his eyes and managing to knock Chris square in the sternum.
"Don't be all --" Lance said, and JC raised his head and frowned. "Don't distract him from that, just 'cause you --"
"Okay, okay," Chris said, biting at Lance's shoulder. JC squinted at him. "Go on already," Chris said, waving his hand over Lance's naked body like a wand. "Go forth and plunder and I'll just be over here, don't mind me."
"I only have one mouth," JC said, as if Chris were a three-year-old trying to shove Mr. Potato Head's plastic lips into the hole where they ear was supposed to go. "I promise I'll --"
"He's so cute when he's tryin' to be all fair," Lance muttered. He lifted his head, chin almost touching his chest. He looked at JC. "Go ahead, honey, keep doing whatever you want."
JC licked his way down Lance's stomach and Chris slid down on the bed so his face was near Lance's hip. He reached a hand over to lift Lance's dick to JC's mouth. This was pretty hot, actually getting to see Lance get a blowjob and all. Chris put his other hand back on his cock, with actual purpose this time, not just to annoy JC. JC's lips slid wetly over Chris' knuckles and Chris' mouth fell open. This was really fucking hot.
JC did it again, and Lance's hand grasped for purchase and came down hard into Chris' hair and Chris flinched, knocking his hand into JC's mouth. It was like this fucked-up reverse chain reaction, Lance's hand and Chris' hand and what, by the sound of it, were probably JC's teeth as he pulled back with a muffled cry.
Lance groaned. Not a good groan. Not a harder-faster kind of groan. "What did you do, Chris?" he asked, neck loose on the pillow.
Chris buried his face in the bedsheets, shaking his head. When he looked up, JC was sitting back on his heels, wiping his mouth and looking caught between apologizing for the worst sin known to man and wanting to tell Chris to take his sleepless nights and shove them. "Maybe this would be easier if one of us was tied up," JC finally said.
"If that one of us is you and somehow there was a gag involved," Chris said, "I'd be really in favor of that plan."
"I'm not the one who can't shut up for one minute," JC said. "And anyway nobody asked you to help out with that, I was doing just fine until you --"
"Hey! That wasn't my fault, with the hand thing there, that was --"
Lance sat up. "That was my dick that got caught in the middle there, and I'm blaming both of y'all unless someone starts doing something to rectify the situation right goddamn now."
JC looked at Chris. Chris looked at JC. Lance sighed and flopped back and stared at the ceiling.
"Okay!" JC said, throwing up his hands. "I've got some shirts you can use, but one of them is new so if they get torn or something I'm gonna be really pissed off." He walked to the closet and rummaged through a bag. "I am not putting one of these in my mouth, no way."
Chris lay up against Lance's side and licked at his neck. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I should keep my hands to myself, I know, it's just that it's really fucking hot watching someone blow you and I can't exactly see it from that angle when it's me, and --"
Lance kissed him, rough and angry, and Chris wrapped one leg around Lance's waist. "You better fucking make it up to me," Lance said, biting at Chris' lip.
"I will, I will." Chris petted Lance's dick gently and let Lance drive the kiss however he wanted to. God, he fucking loved kissing Lance. Nine months and they fucked like rabbits but really Chris thought that if he were paralyzed in some tragic stage accident, if he got dropped out of some fly rig, it wouldn't matter as long as they could still kiss.
Someone kicked at his shin, hard, and Chris pulled back. JC was standing at the foot of the bed holding two sheer pink scarves.
"I forgot I had these," JC said, though clearly he was lying. How could you forget having sheer pink scarves in your duffel, anyway. "Is someone going to tie me up now?"
Lance said, "You better let me. Sometimes Chris gets a little..."
"I do not."
"Chris," Lance said. "Last time you made some knot that only exists in your own particular boy scout guide or something and we had to get Lonnie to go buy a real pair of scissors because nothing in your shaving kit or mine was going to be enough to saw through and no way would it ever come untied like a normal knot."
"Fine," Chris said. "Whatever. Tie him up already."
All trussed up to the bedframe, hair all curly and shiny with sweat, JC was really probably the prettiest boy Chris had ever seen. Even Lance wasn't that pretty. Lance was hot, but he wasn't pretty like that.
"I take it all back," Chris said, and fell on top of JC. He straddled him, kissing JC's neck, running light fingers down JC's arms so JC swallowed giggles and whimpers, making smothered clicks like a dolphin on one of those nature shows.
Lance worked his fingers down under JC's body, then pulled his hand back and got up off the bed.
"Oh," JC whispered. "Lance, Lance. Come back. We didn't forget about you, come back."
Lance didn't break stride to the bathroom and JC tugged at his silly pink scarves. Chris sucked on a nipple and JC shimmied his hips and for a second Chris didn't miss Lance at all. Then the bed shifted and Lance was kneeling next to them, his hand on Chris' waist. "Somehow I feel I should be less surprised you've graduated to the pump size," Lance said, and Chris saw he was dipping fingers into a pool of lube carefully cradled in one palm.
"Sometimes you need a lot," JC said, defensively, but when Chris rose up on his knees JC shifted his hips up to allow Lance access all the same.
Chris was trying to find a way to gracefully un-straddle JC so he could watch Lance finger him and maybe even help but it took three tries to get one knee between JC's legs. When he tried to move the other without bumping Lance's arm he had to grab the headboard so he didn't fall. Lance was chewing on his own lip, slowly working a second finger in, not paying attention and Chris wondered if he had to fall off the goddamned bed or something to get Lance to break rhythm. "Hey," he said, and Lance immediately looked over, not stopping but still locking eyes with Chris.
"You okay?" Lance asked softly, and Chris nodded. He traced the curve of Lance's shoulderblade with one hand and rubbed JC's stomach lightly with the other. Lance leaned in and kissed him and Chris tried to focus on just that, on the kiss, not how his knees were fucking killing him or that the adrenaline of the kinkiness of it all had worn off and he was just getting tired.
Two hot guys. The greater good of great sex awaited here if he could just stay awake and alert a little longer. Fucking two hot guys and one of them was Lance, Lance who would try anything Chris thought was even remotely hot and only laughed at him after they'd decided if it was worth trying again.
God, Chris realized, his tongue twisting around Lance's. He really fucking loved this guy. This guy here, the one with his tongue in Chris' mouth, not the one whose dick he kept bumping with his wrist, not that he didn't love JC too. But. Nine months and if Chris was being honest with himself he really didn't care if he never fucked another guy ever if he got to keep Lance a while longer.
"I wanna watch you fuck C," Lance said against Chris' lips, soft but not so quietly that JC didn't hear. JC moaned and let his knees fall farther apart. He hooked one ankle around Chris' waist and then kind of walked his heel up until it rested on Chris' upper back. Jesus Christ, JC was flexible. Also even his heels were skinny and pointy-feeling.
Chris took hold of JC's ankle, leaning back so he could sling it over his shoulder, from the front this time. Lance's hand moved in and out and Chris could see the tendon in his wrist flex as he crooked his fingers. JC dug his pointy heel into Chris' back and shouted, which would have been bearable except then he kicked his other foot up, too, catching Chris square in the eye.
"Motherfuck!" Chris yelled, falling backwards on the bed. Without Chris' shoulders to support them, JC's legs dropped straight down, missing Chris' dick by a hair's breadth. Chris windmilled, trying to avoid sudden castration. Lance reached for Chris' wrist so he wouldn't slide right off the bed, but his fingers on one hand were still wet and sticky from JC and the other still had a palmful of economy lube, so Chris had to break his fall with a hand over his head, knuckles pressed against the carpet.
Lance dried one hand on the sheets and reached down, heaving Chris back up. "Baby," he said, kissing Chris' forehead.
JC cleared his throat. "Maybe someone should --"
Lance pressed a hand to JC's ankle. "You okay?" he asked Chris again, and Chris knew suddenly, he could tell that if he wanted to call it an evening right then, Lance would go with him. Lance ran his thumb around Chris mouth, staring intently. He stared and stared and didn't even seem to blink, which really probably wasn't possible but anyway that's what it felt like to Chris.
Chris finally closed his eyes and blindly found his way to press his mouth into Lance's neck. "I love you," he said, right in Lance's ear, just for him.
Lance swallowed hard and said, loudly, "So are you gonna finish this thing or what?" But he brought his hand up off JC and held Chris' face. "Me too," he mumbled into Chris' mouth. "I -- yeah. Me too."
Chris kissed Lance and it was like he knew as weird or stupid the whole idea of a threesome had been, somehow it had just moved them forward, off whatever stupid fence of non-commitment they'd been straddling all this time.
"Um," JC said. "Guys?"
Lance broke the kiss, chuckling, and Chris growled at him. "You," Chris said. "Everyone who votes for Lance to step in and play the relief pitcher raise his hand." He looked over at JC, all strung up and nowhere to go, and JC wiggled his fingers on both hands. "It's unanimous," he said, giving Lance one last peck on the cheek and then coming around JC's side to kiss him, too. "Besides. I had sex three times tonight already. Some of us are not horny teenagers anymore."
"In the bathroom," JC said, rubbing his cheek against Chris'. "In the pocket of my Dopp kit, there's some --"
"Shit, C," Chris said. "Take a hint. Lance isn't actually a consolation prize in this department, I promise."
"I know," JC said, "remember?"
"Yeah," Chris said, "but maybe he's picked up some new tricks since then."
"Hey," Lance said, slapping Chris' ass. "Standing right here, hello?" Chris raised an eyebrow and Lance amended, "Okay, kneeling, same difference, and maybe you don't need to discuss my sexual prowess like I'm not even in the room, okay?"
"Okay, Mr. Director sir, do you want me to adjust the lighting over here, too? Because I think at this point we've got more mood, more atmosphere than is really necessary and --"
"You guys," JC said.
"I'm getting a condom," Lance said, leaning off the bed to find his pants. "Just, like, Chris, can't you give the man a blowjob or something here while I'm --"
"You guys are so cute," JC said.
Chris nipped at JC's stomach. "Watch who you callin' cute, pretty boy."
"Yeah," Lance said, as he popped back up, foil square triumphantly in hand. "I promise you this is not going to feel cute."
"I mean," JC started. Chris looked up and JC smiled sweetly. "It's really nice of you guys to let me, you know. See you like this. Together. You're all really cute together."
Lance rubbed Chris' back and Chris tried not to grin too widely. They were cute together. They were in love and they were cute and even JC, JC who maybe believed once upon a time that Chris was actually tired, could see that they were cute. And together. And happy.
"The thing about Switzerland," Chris said, because after all here he was with two fucking gorgeous naked guys all in one bed and they didn't have to not enjoy playing at being porn stars just to prove a point. "There's something about just, like, knowing it's there. To keep the peace. It keeps things safe and sound, you know?"
"What?" JC's voice went from breathy to flat-out hoarse as Lance pushed his fingers in again. "What?" JC said again, only the second time it sounded more like a moan.
"Chris," Lance said, and Chris licked carefully around JC's bellybutton before looking up. "Look at this." Lance ran a hand from JC's corded shoulders down his ribs and ended by stroking Chris' jaw where it rested on JC's hip. "We can talk peace treaties later. Look at him."
Chris stared at Lance, at Lance's long torso looming above him, slick and ready. Lance rubbed at Chris' mouth and Chris said, "I'm looking."
END.