Why I dislike disclaimers so much? Not only are they quite boring to read most of the time, they're also a bitch to write... So here is mine: what I write, is fiction. Yes, my main characters are real people, but I don't know them, hell, in this story they're just how I imagine them to be. If you're not supposed to be here, go away. And that's all I have to say about that!
Now on with the story, which is my first, so I would really like to hear what you think. This is just the first part of my story, and it depends on your reactions whether I'm gonna continue or not. (Dontcha love a little blackmail now and then?)
Best in me: chapter 1
Justin slowly pulled into the driveway of his friends house, and after he shut down the engine of his Benz, he looked at the house warily. No sound emerged from the large mansion, no lights were turned on. But somehow, instinctively, Justin felt that the man he was looking for, was in there. Alone. Lonely.
When he started moving after staring at the house for like an eternity, his actions seemed to be in slow motion. He quietly got out of the car. Almost completely silent he closed the cardoor behind him and he stalked quietly to the front door. He didn't even bother to knock the door, he simply laid his hand on the doorknob and twisted it. Somehow it didn't strike him as unusual that the door wasn't locked.
Cautiously Justin opened the front door. As he entered, dust danced in the slight breeze he had brought in with him. Whites dust sheets covered most of the furniture, and gave the moonlit room a rather scary atmosphere. Justin opened his mouth to yell his friends name, a bit embarrassed because the dark room creeped him out somehow. But he made no sound, he just inhaled sharply when he finally noticed his friend.
Sprawled across a large couch lay Lance, barely dressed, obviously drunk. Justin couldn't quite determine whether he was asleep or just out of it. With his left arm, Lance covered his eyes, under his right arm, he had tucked a bottle of Gin. His breathing was deep and even, so Justin assumed he was asleep.
Numerous duffelbags lay spread across the floor. Some of them were open, as if Lance had been looking for something, others seemed to be tossed away carelessly. Justin noticed Lances shoes, his socks, his jacket, his t- shirt, his sweater and his pants, scattered around the floor. He frowned at this sight, so unlike Lance. But then again, Lance hadn't been himself lately...
Lance had been... Justins thoughts drifted off , when his eyes wandered over Lances beautiful body. His bare feet over which Lance somehow always managed to trip while dancing. His legs covered in soft blond hairs, according to Lance the ultimate proof of him being a beach-bum. A smile crept on Justins face. The black boxerbriefs, which left very little to the imagination. Justin stared at the growing bulge for a minute, wondering what or who Lance was dreaming about... When Justins gaze lingered over Lances musceled stomach and tanned chest, he unconsciously licked his lips.
Justin couldn't remember for how long he just stood there staring at his friend. He also couldn't remember when his hand had drifted to his groin, or when he had started stroking himself through his jeans. But then suddenly, Lance looked up.
Justin had assumed Lance was asleep. But all of the sudden, those pale green eyes caught his, a faint smile curled those lips. Justin immediatly let his hand fall to his side, hoping Lance hadn't noticed.
Slowly, Lance sat up, not even trying to hide his arousal. Which would have been rather difficult, considering he wore nothing but tight black boxerbriefs. His words were no more than a soft whisper, a soft mumble that sent shivers down Justins spine.
Are you real? Or is this just another dream?' Justin swallowed uncomfortably. His voice small and barely audible, when Lance got up and slowly made his way over to the younger man. You dream about me?' Lance smiled harshly. `I dream about you day and night, Curly... I can't get you out of my mind.'
Lance let his eyes wander over Justins body, which made Justin feel tingly inside. Lance caught Justins eyes again with his, and took another step, closing the gap between their bodies, their chests almost touching. Lances voice was low and seductive. Do you dream about me?' Justin lost himself in those pale green eyes, now darkened with lust. He barely noticed that Lance had spoken, but when it finally dawned on his what the other man had said, he slowly shook his head, not breaking the eye-contact. I don't, Lance.'
He smelled the alcohol on Lances breath, but it didn't bother him. If anything, it comforted him. Lance was drunk, he didn't know what he was saying or doing. He had no clue at all...
Justin sucked in his breath and closed his eyes, when Lance traced a finger across Justins jawline. `Are you scared, Just? Scared of what I might do to you?'
Justins nod was barely noticable, and he parted his lips slightly, but the only sound that emerged was a soft sigh. Lances smile grew wider, warmer. He let his finger wander past Justins lips. He thougth about how his dreams had always seemed real, and how this was so much more.
Unconsciously Justin licked his lips, and when his tongues touched Lances finger, electric chills shot through both of their bodies. Lance hesitated no longer, placed his hand on Justins hip and slowly moved it up.
In his previous dreams, Justin had always shown initiative, he had taken the lead, and Lance had been seduced by the younger man. But something was different this time. Justin, who always had been the selfassured one, now seemed almost scared.
Lance saw himself forced to take it slow, to convince the other man. To seduce him. It was a new, and exciting perspective.
A shiver ran through Justins spine when the soft, warm hand touched his hip, and slowly moved up, until it touched his bare skin under his wide jersey, right above the waistband of his pants.
The feel of a hand on his bare skin, merely a hand, Lances hand, yet the most erotic thing Justin had felt in his life. And for a second he got caught up in the moment, he wanted to get caught up in the moment, but then Lance spoke up, his voice husky from desire. `Damnit Justin. Don't you see what you do to me?'
Justin jumped back as if he had just burned himself. Before Lance could react, Justin spun around on his heels and ran out of the house. He jumped in the Benz, and rested his head on the stearing wheel for a minute, trying to clear is head, trying to catch his breath. What the hell was that? That was the question that kept running through his mind, over and over again. But he couldn't find an answer. When his breathing finally evened out, he started the car and left.