| Club Capades by destiny "Are you sure you don't want to go out with us?" Lance stooped to tie his sneaker, glad to be leaving the studio at a relatively decent hour. Eleven was just the right time for clubbing, and Justin was heading out with him. JC sighed, rolling a pen around on the table, dozens of loose papers scattered in front of him. Chris was opposite him, chatting on his cell to a buyer about his clothing line, and Joey was snoozing on the couch. "I'd love to go," JC admitted, "but there's no way. Not tonight. Guess you're on your own. But," he warned, standing up to stretch. "Please don't be late in the morning. This song is almost done." Justin popped out of the restroom with a smile. "Late? Us?" He eyed Lance with an amused look. "Hell no. We'll be right on time." He clapped Lance's shoulder. "Ready?" Lance stood up and nodded. "See y'all later." Justin pushed him out the door and they strolled the short walk to Justin's car. "Okay, where to?" he asked, using the remote to beep the alarm off. Lance shrugged as he climbed in. "You pick tonight. I'm just glad to be outta that fucking studio for a while. I swear it's going too slow this time." "Well, that's what you get with an anal producer," Justin grinned. "You shouldn't talk about JC that way," Lance chuckled, as Justin gunned the car out of the lot and onto the street, heading north. He knew just which club he wanted and soon, they were there. The music was loud, and with their celebrity status, the admission and subsequent drinks were free. Lance was sure that's why Justin favored this place. Justin lead the way, over to the horseshoe shaped bar, one of three that the club had. The bartender, a cute college girl with a sarcastic attitude, came right over. She knew they tipped well, and liked to screw with them. "Oh Christ," she said, "Fucking boy band pop stars again." Justin pretended to pout. "Fuck you," he replied, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "You'd lay right down and spread those legs for either of us and you know it." She raised her eyebrow, glancing back at Lance, then at Justin. "Not." Lance elbowed his way closer and smiled at her. "Not what?" he asked, his green eyes glowing. The bartender rolled her eyes, leaning her hands on the bar. "What do you want to drink so I can get back to the real men?" "Give me an hour and I'll show you real man," Justin laughed, pulling out his wallet. "Gimme a beer." Lance held up two fingers and she nodded, turning her back to retrieve the drinks. "Do you ever get carded?" Lance asked, scanning the crowded club for a girl who would catch his interest. Justin cocked his head. "Carded? Please." Two beers slammed onto the bar and Justin tossed down a ten. "Ooh, ten whole bucks from the group who sold millions. Wow. Impress me why doncha?" She swiped the ten and pocketed it with a mischevious glint. Justin handed a beer to Lance and moved closer, catching her elbow. "You're a bitch, ya know that?" he hissed, close enough to smell her perfume, near enough to hear the small gasp that escaped her lips. "Better a bitch than a stuck up asshole," she countered, not bothering to move away. It was the same game everytime he came in, a game. She wished that just once he would not fuck around so much and put a real move on her, but time after time, he left with some other girl. She suspected tonight would be nothing different. Justin released her with a grin. "Jealous." He turned to follow Lance toward the dance floor, hundreds of bodies crushed together in a sweaty grind. Lance was already half done with his beer, swaying to the deep hip hop booms pounding through the place and Justin stood next to him. He too was searching the place for a young lady who would capture his interest for the evening, a slutty looking, one time girl to shower with all his attentions and charms in the hopes she would be good at retuning favors he liked. This evening, it seemed, the place was full of scantily clad, daringly sexy twenty somethings. Justin nudged Lance, spying the one he'd picked out. She was petite, and blonde, with a skirt that made mini's look long, just barely covering her ass, and Justin could swear she had no panties on. Lance groaned as Justin pointed her out. "Fuck, J, that's who I was going for." He hated when they did that, wanted the same girl because most of the time Justin and his pretty blue eyes won out. "Come on, lemme have this one." He had a twinkle in his eye as he asked nicely. "Fuck that," Justin snickered, downing the rest of his beer quickly. Lance was stealthy. He'd move in quick and sublty, and had that uncanny ability to snatch any girl out from under Justin's nose. Justin placed his empty bottle down and dove into the crowd. Lance gasped at how fast Justin disappeared. "Little shit," he drawled, rushing in after him. No way was he getting this one. Not a fucking chance. He stood on tip toes and caught the brownish curls bobbing through the sea of dancers. Pushing his way gently into the masses, he found him quickly, already grinding against the girl. The challenge was on, neither one wanting to back down, not this night. Lance boldy stepped in front of the girl, figuring it was a better place than behind her where Justin was. At least she could see his face. "Oh my God," she exclaimed, holding a hand to her heart. "Where you been all my life?" Lance shook his head at the line, and inched closer to her ear. "I have no idea," he whispered back, licking at her earlobe, making eye contact with a stunned Justin. Justin retaliated by grabbing her hips from his position behind her and leaning into her neck. "Never mind him," he muttered lowly. "How about you and I go someplace quiet." She leaned her back, her head swimming from the attentions, unaware she was just a toy to them, a silent game to see who would prevail. "Okay," she smiled, turning around to face him, reveling in the wonder that was two N Sync members. Her almond shaped blue eyes shone with drunkeness and lust as she wrapped her arms around Justin's neck. Lance frowned a bit. Nevertheless, he moved closer to her, running his hands along her backside, slipping his hands under her micro mini. He inhaled sharpley as his fingertips met bare flesh, not a trace of a panty to be found. There was no way Justin was going to get this one. He tugged at her locks, lifting them away from her neck. Leaning in, he laid small, warm kisses up her hairline and felt her shiver under his touch. She floated back into him. The crush of the crowd grew more intense as more and more people struggled to fit on the dance floor, and Lance looked around, completely surrounded. He spun her to face him and pressed his body close, leaving no space between them. "No panties huh?" he grinned, bending to attack her lips with his. Justin watched as Lance captured her, intrigued by his friend's sudden boldness, waiting with narrowed eyes to see just what he planned to do, how he planned to keep her toward him this time. She lost herself in Lance's kiss, the feel of his tounge against hers, the heat radiating off his body and the sudden hardness pressed against her. Her hands reached behind her to grab Justin closer to her, clutching at his thighs as Lance explored her mouth, then neck. Justin bit the inside of his cheek, holding her hips snug against his crotch as he looked around. Not one person cared, no one was looking. Everyone was lost in their own world. Lance paused to meet Justin's gaze in triumphant victory. "Fuck her," Justin challenged, sure that Lance would never do such a thing, not here in public, not with Justin watching, not with a stranger. "No condom," Lance smiled back. Justin let go with one hand, stuffing his hand into his pocket and pulling one out. He ripped it open with his teeth before passing it over. "Here." "Yes," she whispered, her eyes closed and rested her head against Justin's shoulder. "Do it." Lance laughed out loud. It was insane, and he was considering it. Justin glared at him, taunting blue eyes set in competition. "If you don't, I will," he said evenly. "Fine." Lance grabbed the girl's leg, lifting it to his waist. With his other hand, he unzipped his jeans, tugging himself free. He stuggled to roll the condom on, fought the fucking thing until he had to let go of her leg. One last glance around, just to make sure no eyes were catching the escapades, and he grabbed her again, lifting her legs around his waist. Justin cupped her ass, holding her up as Lance found his way in. She threw her head back at the sensation, and rocked against him, the music throbbing wildly around them. Justin helped to hold her up while Lance thrust the best he could, his knees weak. The strobe lights blinked wih intoxicating steadiness, making it all seem like an erotic slow motion movement. Justin was aroused, so much so he felt guilty standing there, helping his friend get off. He rubbed against her harder, moving in time with the music, digging his fingers into her soft flesh. He saw Lance lost in "the zone", small beads of sweat rolling down the sides of his face. Justin had to look away for a moment. The craziness of the scene was getting him hornier by the second and he wanted Lance to finish already so he could scout out the bartender, drag her into the back room, and fuck her brains out. He felt anger rise inside him, and grabbed the girl tighter, forcing her to move quicker. She lifted her arms behind her and grabbed at his hair, ripping at the curls. "Stop it," he growled, moving his head away. "Goddammit, Lance, hurry the fuck up." He wanted to get off that dance floor, speed through the people and grab that sarcastic little bitch, pour out all his sexual energy into her. Lance merely nodded, trying hard to concetrate. His mind danced as his body thrusted forward and back, forward and back, and he felt as if he was going to collapse as the orgasm started to rip it's way through him. He buried his head in her chest so his cry would be muted. He felt Justin's hands on his, handing the shuddering girl over to him as he dashed off into the crowd. Lance slowly put her down, his breath ragged and his body shaky. "Damn," he whispered, yanking the condom off and tucking himself back in. She covered him with her body, hugging him to her fiercly. Lance wobbled slightly. "I gotta sit," he groaned, pulling her behind him out off the dance floor and to a booth. He caught a glimpse of Justin at the bar before leaning his head back in exhaustion. The bartender ignored him the best she could. She'd seen him approach, his cheeks flushed, his blue eyes dark and a sexy scowl on his face. She tended to the other patrons even as Justin swiped at her. "Hey!" he cried, the erection in his jeans so solid, so tight it consumed his entire being. "Hey N Sync," she bit back, handing a rum and coke to another customer. "What?" "Come here," he growled. "Fuck you," she retorted. The words were meant to be hard and distant, but she knew they weren't. She knew they really sounded like "Fuck me...and hard." Justin forced a smile, his foot tapping impatiently under the bar. If she didn't conceed soon, he was going to explode, literally. "Please?" Please usually got him what he wanted. She rolled her eyes, motioning to the other bartender to cover for her. She slipped out under the bar and he was right there, gathering her up in his arms. "What are you doing?" she cried. "I think you know," he whispered, intensifying his stare. She wavered under his gaze. No mistaking what was in those azure eyes. Lust and sex, purely. "Come with me," she stammered, pulling him through the 'employee only' doors and into a back room. Before she could flip the lights on, Justin was on her, pushing her roughly to the floor. Her hands found his waist and she pulled him over him, his tounge already probing into her mouth making her body weak. The game was being played and fast. Suddenly, his hands were lifting her shirt off, his mouth covering neck with hungry kisses. He unsnapped her jeans, ripping them down and off her, his hands hot on her body. He pulled her panties over with a fast tug, and heard the sound of ripping material. He didn't bother to undress, only tug his own pants down halfway. "Justin," she gasped, running her hands over that perfect ass, the one she fantasized about every fucking time he came to the club. Justin's body took over quickly, condom on in record time, slipping in without hestitation, without self control, without thought to being an unselfish lover. He pictured the highly erotic scene between Lance and the girl on the dance floor, moving his hips furiously. He couldn't see the girl under him, didn't care. She was just another in a line of nameless, faceless fucks that he'd conquered for physical pleasure. She squirmed under him, lost in a haze of sensations. While he was selfish, he was powerful, and soon she was riding a wave of her own, clawing his back under his shirt, screaming his name in pleasure. Justin moved faster, his own body on the brink of satisfaction, edged on by the searing tingle of his raked back. He pictured the pantiless girl, the feel of her ass under his hands, the way Lance looked fucking her, and he was there, right there with a ferocious grunt. "Goddammit," he hissed, collapsing ontop of her. She smiled in the darkness, glad he was with her, even if it was on the floor. Then, Justin was gone, pulling his jeans up in the shadows. "Thanks," he grumbled, adjusting his shirt. He needed a shower, and sleep. The bright light seeped in as he opened the door, slipping out. From her position on the hard tile, she laid half naked and shivering at the sudden loss of his body warmth. Justin fucking Timberlake. Asshole. |