Save It For A Sunny Day
By: Chaos and Raven

Would you bring it to your mouth / Lick your lips about it / Feel your smile soakin' up those rays

Some days it doesn't pay to be gay. Not with the half dozen hoochie girls trailing after him, their enormous breasts bursting out of nearly transparent shirts. Why don't men dress like that? Yes, he can do without the miniskirts but Lance can think of at least five guys off the top of his head he'd like to see wearing skintight gauze. Yum.

"Sweetheart," he says with disarming calm, "if your tits were any closer to me, we'd be the same person. Have a little respect for my personal space, huh?"

It takes her a second to realize that the smooth voice isn't saying anything nice. She flounces off in a flurry of blonde hair and takes two-thirds of the entourage with her. Thank fucking god.

Justin comes up next to him with a beer in each hand. "Where'd your friends go?"

"Fucking models. They think having a great rack makes up for having no personality."

"Hello to you, Ms. Bitch." Justin laughs and hands over a beer.

"I'm as happy as the next guy to celebrate birthdays. I just don't think it should be at the potential expense of my lunch." He makes gagging noises. "How you can sleep with women is beyond me."

"Hey now. I've seen you with your fair share."

"It's select company, Justin."

"Sure it is," he teases.

Lance yawns. "I'm out of here as soon as this is gone." He waves his bottle in Justin's face.

Justin shrugs. "Just don't forget to say good-bye to JC. He'll be pissed otherwise."

Lance gives Justin his best 'what do you take me for' look and surveys the room again. The pickings haven't gotten any better. His friends' friends are a little scary at times. Most times. He keeps his mouth shut about it usually. It's safe to say some of his own friends aren't much better. Still. You'd think in a room full of young stars there would be at least one sex worthy piece of ass.

He drains his beer and sets it on the table. They embrace and Justin gooses him soundly. "Stay out of trouble, ya hear?"

"Trouble is my middle name." Lance blows Justin a kiss. "I'll call you this weekend. We'll get together."

JC isn't hard to find. The skanky women around him are the same -- or close enough -- as the ones that Lance fended off earlier. JC is happy with it, though, and that's all that matters. Lance wades through the crowd to where JC is doing body shots off a perky brunette.

"C! I'm taking off. Happy birthday."

JC grins up at him from the girl's chest. "Lance! Have a safe trip home. Stay in touch, man."

Lance makes it out of the house to the driveway without mishap. Outside, he takes a deep breath of cool air, letting it relax him. He's about to pull out his phone and call a cab when he notices someone leaning against Justin's Escalade and smoking a cigarette.

"The party is inside," Lance says a little snidely.

He receives a laugh. A deep, throaty, sexy laugh that makes him shiver. He's less drunk now but feels trashed. That laugh... Whoa.

"Thanks, really. I had figured that out."

Lance takes a step forward and he sees it's Nick fucking Carter bitching back at him, smoking a cigarette, and generally being really fucking hot. There is no god. Of all the people in LA it had to be Nick.

Lance wants to drop to his knees on the gravel and suck Nick off until he falls over. What kind of protocol do you have to follow to initiate something like that? Hi, we've been pretending like we hate each other for a long time but you're the hottest thing I've seen all night and I'm horny. Can I blow you? Now that he thinks about it, that plan has merit.

"Nick." Lance nods a greeting. "How's it going?"

"Bored, sober, horny." Nick counts off with his fingers. "I was thinking of jerking off on the hood of Justin's ride here, but I can't work up the motivation."

Lance laughs hollowly. Not because of Justin's car -- it's the sort of prank Lance would think to pull -- but because of how matter of fact Nick is. Because it's not funny, it's hot. "Sounds like a dangerous combination."

Nick shrugs, taking another drag off his cigarette. "I've had worse."

"So what are you doing here?" Lance asks, slowly inching forward.

"AJ. JC. Birthday." Nick shrugs. "They're like, secretly best friends or something."

Lance rolls his eyes. It's not that big of a secret. "You'd rather hide out in the driveway than socialize?"

"They're not my friends. Besides, I went in. It's just more interesting out here. What about you? Isn't it a little early to be heading out?"

"I've been here since ass o'clock this morning hanging with JC. Besides, I have people to do and things to see." He allows himself a small smile. "And JC prefers a bit more T than A."

That coaxes a brief chuckle from Nick. "Lance, are you flirting with me?" He drops his cigarette and stomps it out decisively.

Lance lets his eyes flutter to half mast and opens his mouth a little. He walks forward, careful and calculated, and breathes right onto Nick's cheek. "No," he says breathlessly, "now, I'm flirting with you."

Nick's thigh presses up and he kicks Lance's feet apart. "Flirting? You look like a hooker."

"Thirty bucks will get you a blow job," Lance says with a smile.

Nick laughs again, and it's so not funny. Lance watches as he reaches back and pulls out a battered leather wallet, extracting two twenties.

"You can keep the change," Nick says, dropping the bills into his palm.

It's a challenge, obviously. Nick doesn't think he'll do it. Disbelief is fine, Lance thinks. When he does drop to his knees, Nick will be that much more surprised. He smiles.

Nick leans back against the front bumper and rests on his elbows. His legs spread obscenely. Lance licks his lips. He's been waiting for this all night. Maybe not Nick in particular but definitely the sex.

With greedy hands, Lance pushes Nick's T-shirt out of the way. The studded leather belt gives him a bit of grief but eventually falls away with a jingle of metal on metal. Nick arches his back a little and juts out his pelvis. With a choked off moan, Lance drops to his knees and is faced with Nick's zipper. Finally.

When he pulls open Nick's fly, Lance swallows vague disappointment at finding his dick mostly soft. At least he'll have the gratification of bringing Nick up from zero. He's hard. He has been for a while. At the first press of his fingers, Nick twitches gratifyingly. Lance can feel Nick's cock lengthening in his palm. He swipes his tongue against the exposed skin of Nick's belly.

Nick grunts and shifts a little. It doesn't take long before he's straining against his boxers. Lance sits back on his heels to look. To record this moment in his mind. It's wet dream material for the rest of his life. Nick spread out for him, waiting for his touch. He licks the tips of his fingers and drags them wetly across Nick's stomach.

Lance wraps his other hand around Nick's hip to steady himself. His head is pounding with blood and lust and alcohol. Nick smells like sex. Cheap, dirty sex in a parking lot. He touches his tongue to Nick's dick, now poking awkwardly out in the air. Nirvana.

"I'm not paying you to look at it," Nick says sharply.

"Fuck off and let me do it my way," Lance retorts. "It's a Zen thing."

Nick snorts with laughter that dies suddenly when Lance envelops as much of Nick's length as he can in his mouth. He lets his tongue dance down, wetting and tasting. A hand twists into his hair, roughing up the carefully gelled spikes. This is what he needed.

There's a moan building deep in his throat. Lance dips his head, feeling the crown of Nick's cock slide against his tongue. Nick begins to move now too, his fingers tightening in Lance's hair. Lance groans. Any second now Nick is going to fuck his throat. He sucks hard, asking for it. Nick obliges him, thrusting carefully at first, then harder when he sees what Lance can handle.

If Lance could think past the cock in his mouth, he might consider reaching into his own pants. The burn he feels to get himself off is subsumed by the burn to get Nick off. Nick's thrusting is erratic, his hands rough on Lance's head. Lance doesn't care, though; it feels great.

Lance's eyes are open, watching every flicker of emotion on Nick's face. Every wince, every stuttered breath is there for him to see. Nick glances down and holds his gaze, challenging him again. The fingers tugging on his hair tighten as Lance sucks, straining his throat, his lungs, to take as much of Nick as he can.

"Oh fuck," Nick murmurs. "I love your fucking mouth."

Lance hums his agreement and Nick shakes apart under his tongue. Nick is coming, coming, coming. It's such a power rush to have someone completely undone and at your mercy. Lance can look at Nick, his face flushed, his eyes unfocused, and say to himself 'I did that.' He laughs out loud. And he got paid.

Nick smiles lazily down at Lance, running his fingers across Lance's swollen mouth. He tugs gently and Lance stands, brushing dirt and gravel from his knees. Nick draws him forward, licking into his mouth. Nick tastes like ash. Lance moans as his lips are bitten and his tongue cleaned. His hips thrust forward and he rubs himself against Nick's solid thigh.

"How much for the rest of the night?" Nick asks with a smirk.

Lance looks up, his eyes half open. "I think we can work something out."