Justin hears the familiar heavy thunk of the door closing just as the elevator door opens, and he follows Mike and Glenn off and into the quiet parking garage; the limo is already running and waiting about ten feet down from the elevator. Mike grabs the door and opens it for Justin, and he gives him a quick nod in thanks as he gets in, sliding across the seat with a smile when he sees Joey waiting for him. "Barely beat me this time, man."
"Sorry about that, that guy from the Voice wouldn't leave me alone." Joey reaches an arm out, tugging Justin closer with a little shiver. "Come here, I'm goin' crazy, didn't get to touch you all night."
Moving over easily as the car starts to move, Justin reaches for Joey's other hand as his other goes around his shoulder, and he shivers, shaking his head and starting to rub Joey's hand between his own. "Jesus, you're so cold! Gonna have to get you some gloves or something." He grins. "Or the way you leave 'em everywhere, maybe some of those kid mittens like Bree has, the ones with the connecting string that keeps them in her coat."
Joey growls a little, shuddering a bit as his hands start to gradually warm under Justin's care. "I don't lose them; anyway, I just didn't bring them. Didn't think it was going to be so fucking cold up here."
"Well yeah. It's March, this is crazy." Justin brings one of Joey's hands to his mouth, blowing on the back of his fingers.
At the warm sensation on his chilled skin, a shiver goes through Joey, and his eyelids involuntarily lower at the sensuality of it. "That feels really good," he murmurs.
With a quick glance to check that the privacy screen between the driver's seat and the back compartment is up, Justin flicks the tip of his tongue at Joey's fingertips, then slides his index finger into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and sucking, his gaze never wavering from Joey's face.
Faintly, Joey gasps, "Oh, fuck." His eyes are fixed on Justin's mouth, the wetness of his lips around Joey's finger, and he breathes shallowly, his other hand flexing where it rests on Justin's knee; the sensation of Justin's damp hot tongue curling around his finger teases and fires his blood. "God," he breathes.
Justin slides his mouth up and down Joey's finger, releasing it only to lick and kiss his palm as he moves further to taste the thin skin of his wrist. He keeps his lips lightly against Joey as he speaks. "You were talkin' about stoppin' on the way to the hotel? You still...?"
"You're." Joey's fingers curl over Justin's jaw, and he quivers. "You're bad. God, I just want to get back as soon as possible, fuck going out for a drink."
There's not much room between them, but Justin slides as close as he can as he runs his hands up Joey's thighs, his fingers slightly bunching the fabric of the slacks he's wearing. He leans in to unzip Joey's coat, dipping in to kiss up his neck, nosing against his ear so his voice is as much heard as felt when he murmurs, "Figure what, 20 minutes makeout time before we get to the hotel? You can make my apologies for not meeting the guys tomorrow." With a low chuckle he adds, "I think they'll understand."
"They will. They know us." Joey laughs low in his throat, pushing in to slide close to Justin as he can, one knee between Justin's. His hands work hurriedly to push open Justin's coat, and once that's done, they slide under it to stroke his sides, while he tips his head back to offer more of his neck. "Fuck, just don't, don't stop, God, I love your mouth."
A quick shrug gets rid of his coat without even a thought, and Justin groans, licking under Joey's jaw, letting himself taste and caress every inch of Joey's throat. Without lifting his head, he whispers, "Like I'd stop, right." He moves down to trace Joey's collarbone with his tongue, pressing his lips to the hollow right above the bone on first one side then the other, mouthing Joey's adam's apple, all the while making quiet hungry noises, reveling in the chance to indulge himself in Joey after being apart.
Joey's hands slide almost absently under Justin's shirt, thumbs tracing circles over his hips and lower back; his fingers shiver a little on Justin's heated skin, but it's not the cold that makes him tremble now. He makes faint encouraging noises, deep and soft, as he sinks back against the seat.
Justin follows Joey, moving so he's over him, supporting his weight with a hand rested on the back of the seat next to Joey's head. He kisses up the side of Joey's neck, pausing to suck his earlobe briefly, tugging at Joey's earring, clicking the smooth surface against his teeth, then he kisses softly across Joey's cheek to his mouth, dragging his mouth across Joey's as his eyes drift shut and a small groan emanates from his throat.
Joey tilts upward, mewling a little, helpless and hungry, one hand slipping out of his shirt and up to curl around Justin's nape, so that his fingers can tangle in the soft curls. "Oh, yeah," he mumbles, "God, love this. Love you." His other hand pushes Justin's shirt up in the back, dragging up his spine, and his tongue darts against Justin's urgently.
It's so easy to lose himself like this, a barely controlled urgency driving them, and Justin goes with it, sliding his tongue against Joey's for a moment til he somehow manages to pull back, smiling and shaking his head. "Oh no, slow down, man. We've still got a little ways to go, and I'm just not having sex in the backseat." He winks. "Again." Justin's looking at Joey, hot and wanting and reclining and almost under him, and he's so gorgeous, his flushed cheeks, his eyes bright, and Justin swallows; despite himself, despite his words and best intentions, he's dipping in again to lick a teasing line to Joey's other ear, mouthing the shell and then tracing the contours with his tongue.
"I know," Joey manages, with a little laugh, Justin's words recalling some of their past exploits. "I just, can you blame me?" He groans softly, deep in his throat, head dropping back again, mouth open to breathe shallowly; his fingers flex restlessly in Justin's hair. "Feel so good, make me lose my mind."
"You do too, you feel amazing." Justin lifts his lips from sucking below Joey's ear, his breath heavy against Joey's moistened skin. He's sliding a hand down his chest to make a quick circle of his palm against Joey's nipple through his shirt, then continuing downward, reaching under Joey's shirt and letting his spread fingers rest on Joey's stomach, only Justin's thumb slipping just under the waistband of his pants to rub in small circles without going further.
Joey has to swallow hard; his mouth is dry. "God, yeah," he agrees, "and the way you, your body on mine, I love this." He gives up on any attempt at being articulate and cranes up, mouth closing on Justin's earlobe, and he sucks softly, tongueing and then kissing along the strong, smooth line of his jaw, as his other hand continues to play up and along Justin's spine, trailing teasing fingers up to his ribcage and back down again.
Justin arches into Joey's warm touch, his eyes drifting shut to concentrate on the dual stimulation from his fingers and his mouth. Almost unconsciously he reaches down and cups Joey's cock through his pants, squeezing and kneading his hard organ as he breathes faster.
Joey's helpless groan is louder this time, and his teeth graze Justin's neck as he pants, "Fuck, J, that's, that's not playing fair." He pushes up anyway, hungry for the stimulation, as his hand slides over Justin's chest, teasing a nipple through the thin fabric of his shirt.
The sting of the nip clears Justin's head, and he has to move, his grin a little rueful. He sits up, moving out of easy reach of Joey's hands, as much as he hates to deny himself Joey's touch. He lightens his touch on Joey's groin but doesn't stop, pressing his palm in a circle, using the fingers of his other hand to reach behind and stroke against the smooth fabric of Joey's pants, a tease more than a caress. "What, this? You don't like it? You want me to stop?"
Deprived of Justin, Joey grasps at the side of the seat and the back, behind his head, growling up at Justin. "You, you fucker," he grumbles, but his hips are rocking up helplessly to meet Justin's teasing touches, betraying his words. "Fuck, that's, you're in so much trouble when we get to the hotel," he promises weakly.
Still smiling, drinking in the sight of Joey so hungry and aroused, imprinting the image in his mind for the time, coming way too soon, that they'll be apart again, Justin slides back, then ducks down to press his cheek against Joey's crotch, turning his head and breathing hard, dragging his teeth against the outline of Joey's erection, wanting, turned on so much himself he can hardly answer and maintain the tease. "Trouble, huh?" is all he can trust himself to say.
Joey clasps at Justin's shoulders, gasping and biting down on his lip to fight back the reaction. Justin does this to him every time, somehow manages to turn him on until he can't see or think straight, and it wouldn't take much at all to set him off. "Jesus, Justin," he gasps. "Holy God."
Justin raises his head, panting a little, and he locks eyes with Joey. "Oh, oh fuck it." He's reaching for the button on Joey's pants, undoing it, and is just starting to unzip when the car comes to a stop and the engine cuts off. Justin stops, and he can't help a small grin as he refastens Joey's pants with slightly fumbling fingers. "Nick of time, I guess."
Torn between a pained look and laughter, Joey sits up and chuckles, finally, unable to do anything else. "You, God, you timed that. I know you did." There's a knock on the door from Tiny, probably, but it doesn't open just yet, giving them a chance to shrug back into coats and tidy themselves a bit.
He sits back, reaching for his coat, still trying not to laugh. "No, no, I totally didn't. Even I'm not that good." Justin opens the door and gets out, waiting next to the car for Joey, and they head for the elevator as Mike drives away. They don't have a floor reserved like when they tour, so Tiny rides up with them, watching from the door til he sees the suite door close behind them.
The moment the door snicks shut, Joey's shoving his coat off and pushing Justin to the wall, kissing him hungrily. This is what he's been waiting for, dying for, since he first saw Justin's face at the record party, since the night Justin left for Vancouver, really. Whatever Justin had started to say is cut off, turning into a groan as Joey blankets him with his body. Justin wraps his arms around him hard, sliding sideways just enough to fit a thigh between Joey's and grind against him, feeling the shocks from the sweet friction spark through him. Joey pulls back after a moment, yanking at Justin's t-shirt without ceremony, pulling it over his head. Breathing heavily against Justin's neck, he mutters, "Bedroom. We need to."
"Need to be there already..." Justin squeezes Joey, burying his fingers in his hair for just a second before turning and making fast, if clumsy progress toward the closest bedroom of the suite, assuming Joey'd tell him if it wasn't the one he'd used. The feel of Joey close behind him, just *knowing* he's there is making him shiver.
Joey's pulling off his own shirt as he goes, dropping it on a chair, pausing long enough to kick his shoes off; he knows exactly what this will look like, but fuck if he cares, he just needs to get them both naked as soon as possible.
Justin follows Joey's lead and stops in the doorway of the bedroom, tugging at his laces and then kicking off his boots, peeling off his socks and starting to undo the snap on his jeans, jerking at it to get it to open.
Stopping behind Justin, Joey presses up to him, hands sliding around his waist to pull the snaps open and tug the zipper down for him. "That's really fuckin' hot," he breathes in Justin's ear, grinning.
Justin stops then, reaching behind to draw Joey close, pressing back at the same time to feel him flush against his body. "You're really fuckin' hot."
Joey steps back suddenly, his smile gone lazy. "Finish takin' off your clothes, baby," he says.
Justin can't help the quiet sound of disappointment at the loss of contact, and he shoots a glance over his shoulder as he shoves his jeans and underwear down and steps out of them.
Joey's smile widens, and he pushes down his own pants, kicking them away; his voice is lower, throatier, when he speaks again. "That's it. Now. Against the wall."
"What?" Justin half-turns to look at Joey in surprise, not sure if he heard him right.
Joey steps up to Justin again, face to face this time, hands bracketing his waist, and wordlessly kisses him -- it's dirty and long, tongue dancing deep in Justin's mouth.
They've done this before, the back and forth, sudden shift in roles in the middle of play, and while this time Justin'd been a little slow to catch on, now it's all Justin can do to follow Joey's lead, giving in to his urgent touch. He cups the back of Joey's head with one hand, the other falling to rest on his hip, and he opens to Joey's kiss, tilting for more and deeper contact, his moans muffled against Joey's mouth. When Joey pulls back, slowly, his eyes are dark with need, and he kisses up to Justin's ear before breathing hotly into it, "I'm going to fuck you, baby." It's easy to propel them, walking Justin backwards until he's pressed to the closest wall, and he grinds his hips into the answering heat of Justin's groin, licks at his ear, before adding, in a whisper, "Turn around."
He's already turning to face the wall, letting out a shaky breath and nodding at the same time, and he's glad to be able to press his palms against the cool smooth surface of the wall for balance. Anyone else, and he'd care about seeming too eager, too desperate, but it's Joey, it's not even worth a thought to give in, to push back and seek the warmth of Joey's body.
Joey lays himself against Justin for a moment, against the smooth naked lines of him, and he licks up Justin's neck, breathing him in; then he steps back, shaking a little. "Don't move," he instructs him, and hurries over to his bag, finding the lube where he packed it last night in anticipation of something very much like this. He comes back more slowly, taking a long moment to admire Justin, long and lean and bare for him, and the words come out without thought: "So beautiful."
Justin's still trying to catch his breath at Joey being gone so quick, and now he's back, but not close enough, never close enough. He looks over his shoulder, catching his breath. "God, please, I... come on, Joe."
Joey's tempted to tease, the idea is almost too appealing; but he can't, he needs Justin too much. He reaches out and draws a line down Justin's spine with two fingers; then, giving in to his own hunger and Justin's pleas, he moves closer, kissing Justin's shoulder as he pours lube into his hand, smears it wetly over his fingers. He nudges Justin's legs apart with a knee, draws the dampened fingers down between Justin's buttocks, and the first finger finds its way into Justin's body, sure and steady, as Joey sucks on the back of Justin's neck.
Arching into the touch, Justin widens his stance further, and he reaches back, his hand somewhat awkwardly sliding over the curve of Joey's ass and down the side of his thigh. He sighs, "Oh jesus, yeah, Joe, yeah."
He doesn't manage to keep touching Joey for long, though; Joey makes a tsking sound, a noise of disapproval, and brings Justin's hand back with his own, lacing their fingers together and holding them up on the wall; his other hand works, finger twisting in and back, and then a second pushes in with the first to steadily open Justin to him.
The glancing touches of Joey's body against his back, the silence, and god, his maddening, knowing fingers, everything combines to leave Justin panting, rocking hard with Joey's movements. His free hand is clenching and unclenching as Justin rests his weight on his forearm on the wall, muttering without thought, "Fuck, fuck yes, that's so, that's fucking amazing, yeah..."
Joey's more than ready, but Justin's so open, so hot, writhing against him, that he can't resist: he carefully works a third finger into him, mouth open on Justin's shoulder to lick at the smooth skin, and he rocks up against Justin's hip as he presses deep, fingertips steadily hitting Justin's prostate now.
"Jesus! Joe, please, please..." Justin's almost frantic, the need and arousal he feels becoming overwhelming. For all practical purposes he can only feel and hear Joey, not see him, and it's intensifying everything, every touch, every breath. When Joey drags his fingers over his prostate, Justin drops his head back, eyes closed, and he's almost embarrassed at the loud, wordless sounds he's making; it doesn't stop him from reaching down and circling his dripping cock with a firm fist, stroking fast right away, moving in time with Joey's fingers inside him.
Joey pulls his hand back at last, pausing only long enough to rub some more lube over his own aching erection before he steps behind Justin, so that they're aligned chest to back, thigh to thigh, all the way down. He presses the dripping head of his cock to Justin's relaxed opening and pushes forward, easily, so easily, gliding with almost no resistance into Justin's body, and it tears a groan from him as he thrusts deep, holding himself there for a long moment before he pulls back to slide in again. He reaches for Justin's hands, licking at his ear at the same time, his voice husky. "No, baby, that's my job," he informs Justin, and he gathers Justin's hands over his head, holding them there by the wrists.
Justin has just enough control not to whimper, but he still sighs, "Oh Joe, oh jesus, that's... fuck!" He braces as much as he can, his hands on the wall, rocking back into Joey, Justin bends forward til he can rest his forehead against the wall, closing his eyes, his unconscious cries coming in time with Joey's thrusts into his body. It's hot and hard and exquisite, Justin's spreading his legs, arching his back and meeting Joey's movements with his own, forgetting and starting to reach for his aching erection and moaning at the feel of Joey's firm grasp, holding his hands in place on the wall.
Joey knows if Justin really wanted he could break the hold, so he makes sure Justin won't want to: capturing both wrists in one hand, he brings the other down over Justin's chest, tweaks a nipple, rolls it in his fingers before lowering his hand to Justin's cock, his fist hot and firm as it slides in time with his needy thrusts. He wants to keep it slow, but he can't, Justin's so lithe, his body demanding everything Joey can give, and Joey's teeth close on his shoulder as his thrusts gain in tempo, speeding faster and faster, fist moving in the same time.
Justin's shout as Joey's hand closes over his erection echoes in the empty room, and for a moment he feels it all--the cold sharp sting of Joey's teeth, the shivers still running through him from Joey's fingers on his nipple, his cock, hard and hot and full, moving inside him, deep, deep, rocking against his prostate, then sliding back again, and again and again. Justin tips his head down, panting heavy, watching Joey's hand move on his flesh, feeling the waves of arousal that have been washing over him crest, as he shoves himself back to meet Joey's fast, perfect rhythm, he shudders, almost crying in relief as his climax hits, he's shaking and panting for breath and coming, hard, for what feels like forever.
It's almost like it's happening to someone else, the crest of sensation that washes over Joey, his climax beginning even as Justin's hits its peak, and his thrusts veer sharp and wild before he buries himself in his lover's body one last time, his voice hoarse as he calls out incoherently, fist squeezing Justin's erection to milk every moment of his orgasm and then gently releasing it to press flat to Justin's heaving abdominals. His face is buried against Justin's shoulderblade, and he inhales the sweaty scent of him, breathing shallowly. "God," he gasps. "Holy. Holy shit."
Trembling, Justin nods, sliding a hand from Joey's loosened grip to cover Joey's hand on his stomach and the other still resting on the wall for support; he leans back into Joey, resting his head against the side of Joey's. He gasps out, "Joe, god. I. That. I can't... Fuck."
Joey's other arm comes down, trembling, to slip around Justin's waist; he blankets him, resting heavily, head turned so his cheek is pillowed on Justin's shoulder while they catch their breath. "Jesus, baby," he whispers against sweat-dampened skin.
They lean forward as one, Justin's head resting against his forearm on the wall, and he nods to agree, his eyes still closed. "That. I. God. Love you." A few moments, a few soft pants for breath, and then he whispers, "Uh, I can't... I can't stand up any more."
"Then we're in trouble," Joey says, managing a weak laugh, "'cause I can't move my legs." He pulls back slowly, somehow, peeling himself from Justin's back, mewling a little as he slips out of Justin's body, then stands up straight, hands sliding away from Justin's waist. "I'll, I'll go get a towel."
Shaking his head, Justin straightens and starts to turn around. "No, fuck, no... in a minute..." Despite what he'd said, Justin makes the few short stumbling steps to the bed, a hand loose around Joey's forearm to bring him too. Not letting go, Justin drops to the mattress, drawing Joey with him, and once they're reclining, Justin moves to lie close to his side, his head on Joey's shoulder.
Joey's arm reaches around Justin's back, securing them close together, and his mouth moves to place lazy kisses on his forehead, his hairline; he pauses, then, seeing the reddened mark on Justin's shoulder, the distinct marks of teeth, and swallows. "Shit. I bit you."
Justin cracks a grin, rubbing the spot. "God, yeah. It's--" He shrugs, with a quiet chuckle. "Can't say that's ever been a big thing for me, but god. You, everything. Everything you did, it was. I don't know if I'm ever gonna be able to make a complete sentence again. You just. Blew my mind." So relaxed that every movement's an effort, he swallows a yawn before he presses a kiss to Joey's pec, above his nipple.
"It's, it's definitely not something I do all the time." Joey chuckles, unable to repress a little shiver of post-coital pleasure. "Obviously. God, I can't believe. I can't believe how hot that was. Everything, I mean. I was thinking about it, in the car, and it still didn't even come close."
"You were. You're. I mean, it's always good. But you--that was." Justin breaks off, shaking his head and laughing quietly for a moment. He looks up at Joey, then. "See? No sentences left. You're a god, man. I thought I was gonna pass out."
Laughing throatily, Joey nuzzles Justin's cheek, his hand stroking Justin's side in slow, measured caresses. "You think I even have any words? God, and it's, I mean. I love it any way we're together, every time, but this was something else."
Justin nods. "Yeah, it really..." He lets out a breath, relaxing, and then can't help a yawn and an almost involuntary stretch. "Mmm. It really was."
Joey smiles softly, bending his head to kiss Justin once, gently, and then pushes back with obvious reluctance. "I gotta, we're all sticky." He gets up, sparing an appreciative glance for Justin, stretched out and relaxed in bed, and then pads into the bathroom. A couple of minutes later, he returns, having attended to himself, and he kneels on the bed, using a damp washcloth to clean Justin as well.
Justin murmurs "Thanks," and rolls over once Joey's done, loose and sleepy. He pulls the blankets up and holds them open, smiling up at him to invite Joey back. "Nap, please?"
A moment to toss the washcloth aside, and then Joey slides in behind Justin, heavy with lassitude already, and murmurs his agreement: "Nap, fuck yes." He helps Justin finish pulling the blankets around him and presses a soft kiss to Justin's nape, smiling as he closes his eyes. "Love you."
"So much." Justin's barely finished forming the words and he's gone, drifting off as he relaxes into Joey's warmth.