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aruanBecause something happy had to come out of this gloomy day of yet more JC album snafus. Lambs in a hammock. For ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
powrhug, because she suggested, and that's really all it takes sometimes.
*
Lance wiped his brow with the back of his hand, careful not to tilt the drink in it too much. Summer was technically on its way out everywhere else in the country, but it never seemed to lift from Mississippi until the very last possible moment, holding onto leaves and keeping the barometer high as long as it feasably could before it became a Weather Channel punchline. Even blinking away some errant sweat though, Lance was grateful for it, having spent too many nights in too cold buses and rooms over the years without his blood ever thickening properly. This would always be home for him in more ways than one.
Justin, however, was made for cooler climates. He may have been born in the South but unlike Lance, he'd never really adapted to it. Coming closer to the hammock, Lance could see it was still moving gently, Justin's leg dagling off the edge and scuffing the grass every few swings even though his eyes were closed. He never could sleep if it was too warm.
"Hey, I got the iced teas," Lance said, nudging Justin's foot.
Justin's only response was cracking one eyelid open and reaching his hand out.
Lance took a step back. "Not even a thank you? This is the South you know, people still have manners," he teased, taking a long, noisy drink from his glass.
"Aaw, baby, come on. You know I'll make it worth your while," Justin drawled. Being back for a few days brought his accent out, too, and Lance was hard-pressed to stand his ground. Especially when Justin shimmied down on the hammock, spreading his legs a little wider to slip a bare foot up inside the leg of Lance's khakis.
Which ended up being a dirty trick - in a single swift movement that mostly defied both physics and logic, Lance found himself on his back, crosswise in the hammock, hands empty and Justin grinning down at him.
Lance simply shrugged, putting on his best matter-of-fact face, the same one he used during meetings with people other than Johnny, the game face no one bothered to argue with and somebody usually rewarded with a blowjob in the nearest secure cubicle of space about twenty seconds after the others had left the room.
Seemingly unfazed, Justin held his gaze as he brought the untouched drink to his mouth, which quirked a little as he caught a whiff of sweet liquor. He finally closed his eyes as the rim of the glass touched his lower lip.
There were worse things than sitting in a hammock in his own backyard bracketed between Justin Timberlake's thighs, Lance decided. Easing more comfortably back against the fine rope mesh, he enjoyed a view he hadn't had a chance to in far too long. Justin was skinnier, though no longer in the sickly way he'd been at Challenge. The tour had done right by him in a lot of ways - taking this hiatus had been good for all of them, but Justin had arguably done and changed the most in that time. Lance watched him drinking the tea, enjoying finally spending a real amount of time with him, here, which for all its trappings and memories no longer really felt like home without.
While Lance knew how to make iced tea, has made it for all of them before, he still appreciated Justin's enthusiasm for it - he hadn't come up for air once and with each swallow, he melted a little further back down into his vacated spot in the hammock. By the time the glass was empty, Justin was mostly in Lance's lap, the final swig ending in a languid thrust of his hips against Lance's.
"Mmm," Justin said, opening his eyes. He looked blissfully relaxed, his pupils already beginning to dilate from the alcohol. Lance wrapped an arm around his waist, holding them together more securely as the hammock adjusted to their new, combined weight. He leaned in to lick and nibble along the line of Justin's throat and under his jaw as he took the glasses, setting them aside, then moved that same hand to the back of Justin's neck to bring their mouths together.
Justin gasped into the kiss as Lance's cool fingertips grazed his nape, and Lance took the opportunity to coax Justin's tongue into his own mouth, tasting freedom and happiness made sweet by liquor and something that was purely this new, grown Justin. The final softs and curves of boyhood were all but gone from the strong lines of his shoulders and chest, the sharper, more angular juts of his hips and cheekbones. His quick, cocky tone had become the metered smoothness of confidence - it was this Justin who'd finally said the words that meant forever, whose breath was now coming faster and higher with an honesty neither of them had allowed in their periodic trysts over the years.
Lance grinned, sliding his other hand inside the front of Justin's button fly. "My pleasure," he whispered hotly into Justin's ear.
powrhug, because she suggested, and that's really all it takes sometimes.Lance wiped his brow with the back of his hand, careful not to tilt the drink in it too much. Summer was technically on its way out everywhere else in the country, but it never seemed to lift from Mississippi until the very last possible moment, holding onto leaves and keeping the barometer high as long as it feasably could before it became a Weather Channel punchline. Even blinking away some errant sweat though, Lance was grateful for it, having spent too many nights in too cold buses and rooms over the years without his blood ever thickening properly. This would always be home for him in more ways than one.
Justin, however, was made for cooler climates. He may have been born in the South but unlike Lance, he'd never really adapted to it. Coming closer to the hammock, Lance could see it was still moving gently, Justin's leg dagling off the edge and scuffing the grass every few swings even though his eyes were closed. He never could sleep if it was too warm.
"Hey, I got the iced teas," Lance said, nudging Justin's foot.
Justin's only response was cracking one eyelid open and reaching his hand out.
Lance took a step back. "Not even a thank you? This is the South you know, people still have manners," he teased, taking a long, noisy drink from his glass.
"Aaw, baby, come on. You know I'll make it worth your while," Justin drawled. Being back for a few days brought his accent out, too, and Lance was hard-pressed to stand his ground. Especially when Justin shimmied down on the hammock, spreading his legs a little wider to slip a bare foot up inside the leg of Lance's khakis.
Which ended up being a dirty trick - in a single swift movement that mostly defied both physics and logic, Lance found himself on his back, crosswise in the hammock, hands empty and Justin grinning down at him.
Lance simply shrugged, putting on his best matter-of-fact face, the same one he used during meetings with people other than Johnny, the game face no one bothered to argue with and somebody usually rewarded with a blowjob in the nearest secure cubicle of space about twenty seconds after the others had left the room.
Seemingly unfazed, Justin held his gaze as he brought the untouched drink to his mouth, which quirked a little as he caught a whiff of sweet liquor. He finally closed his eyes as the rim of the glass touched his lower lip.
There were worse things than sitting in a hammock in his own backyard bracketed between Justin Timberlake's thighs, Lance decided. Easing more comfortably back against the fine rope mesh, he enjoyed a view he hadn't had a chance to in far too long. Justin was skinnier, though no longer in the sickly way he'd been at Challenge. The tour had done right by him in a lot of ways - taking this hiatus had been good for all of them, but Justin had arguably done and changed the most in that time. Lance watched him drinking the tea, enjoying finally spending a real amount of time with him, here, which for all its trappings and memories no longer really felt like home without.
While Lance knew how to make iced tea, has made it for all of them before, he still appreciated Justin's enthusiasm for it - he hadn't come up for air once and with each swallow, he melted a little further back down into his vacated spot in the hammock. By the time the glass was empty, Justin was mostly in Lance's lap, the final swig ending in a languid thrust of his hips against Lance's.
"Mmm," Justin said, opening his eyes. He looked blissfully relaxed, his pupils already beginning to dilate from the alcohol. Lance wrapped an arm around his waist, holding them together more securely as the hammock adjusted to their new, combined weight. He leaned in to lick and nibble along the line of Justin's throat and under his jaw as he took the glasses, setting them aside, then moved that same hand to the back of Justin's neck to bring their mouths together.
Justin gasped into the kiss as Lance's cool fingertips grazed his nape, and Lance took the opportunity to coax Justin's tongue into his own mouth, tasting freedom and happiness made sweet by liquor and something that was purely this new, grown Justin. The final softs and curves of boyhood were all but gone from the strong lines of his shoulders and chest, the sharper, more angular juts of his hips and cheekbones. His quick, cocky tone had become the metered smoothness of confidence - it was this Justin who'd finally said the words that meant forever, whose breath was now coming faster and higher with an honesty neither of them had allowed in their periodic trysts over the years.
Lance grinned, sliding his other hand inside the front of Justin's button fly. "My pleasure," he whispered hotly into Justin's ear.
