by Lesa Soja

Most of the time, Justin thought that being in a band was pretty much the best thing there was in the world. He loved singing and dancing, he loved performing, he loved looking out at a sea of faces all focused on him. But lately he had started to realize that it sometimes put restrictions on them that normal people didn't have to deal with. It made him a little resentful.

It was JC who explained it to him, a few weeks after they started fooling around. The second or third time JC gave him a blowjob, Justin lost control and thrust too hard down JC's throat, and the next day JC was hoarse, and the performance that night was a bust. After that JC wouldn't suck Justin anymore, nor would he let Justin do it to him. "Because of the band," JC said. "We can't fuck with that. Not just 'cause of us - the other guys, our folks. The fans," and by the time JC said "fans," Justin was nodding vigorously, just to get JC to shut up so he could go back to his own room and punch the wall.

Once he persuaded JC to fuck him, very slowly and using more than half a bottle of lube, and Justin was perfectly fine the next morning, he was able to walk perfectly normally. It wasn't until they were in rehearsal and Justin had to swivel his hips around that JC noticed anything. Afterwards JC pulled him aside and said, "Justin. We can't -"

"I know," Justin said.

He had JC's hand, though, curling around his dick in light, teasing strokes, and he had JC's hot, sweaty weight to hump up against, and sometimes even JC's skin against his own. And he had JC's dick in his hand, and JC's twitches and shudders, and JC's lips pressed tight to avoid vocal strain.

And he had JC's words glowing up on the screen of his laptop, which was what JC seemed to want most often. Justin was willing to give it a try, he thought it might be like talking dirty during sex, which seemed hot enough. But once when the letters in front of him were slowly spelling out you turn me on so bad I cant stand it I have to touch my hard cock right now, he looked over at the other bed and saw that both of JC's hands were on the keyboard. So now Justin mostly did it just for the look in JC's eyes when Justin said yes.

Justin also had a plug, which was not as big as JC but was a good deal easier to get. At first he thought JC didn't know about it, but one night when they were in New York for a big concert, he came back to his room and found JC standing over his suitcase, measuring the diameter against his thumb. Justin leaned against the doorjamb and watched the jelly rubber quivering and thought about how JC's fingers would smell now. JC still had the plug in his hand when he came towards Justin, and Justin thought JC might touch him, but instead JC just smacked it into Justin's chest and said, "Don't overdo it," as he went by.

So sometimes Justin sort of almost wished that they weren't in the band. Because, he thought, if it wasn't for that, JC would probably be sucking him and fucking him till his ass wouldn't let him sit and his knees wouldn't let him stand. At least, that was what Justin told himself.