Thieves

Obligatory warnings and disclaimers:

1. If reading this is in any way illegal where you are or at your age, or you don't want to read about male/male relationships, go away. You shouldn't be here.

2. I don't know any of the celebrities in this story, and this story in no way is meant to imply anything about their sexualities, personalities, or anything else. This is a work of pure fiction.

Questions and commentary can be sent to "writerboy69@hotmail.com". I enjoy constructive criticism, praise, and rational discussion. I do not enjoy flames, and will not tolerate them.

When the concert was over, a bodyguard came out to get Steve and Mitch, and walked them through the side of the stage and into the back, where they met up with the guys. Everyone piled onto the bus, excited, but exhausted, and they drove slowly through the packed streets around the arena back to the hotel. Justin was pretty hyper, bouncing back and forth in his seat as Wade sat next to him, but JC had sat down and nodded off before the bus even started moving. Joey and Steve were debating going out, since Joey hadn't gone last night and it was their last night in New York, but Chris and Lance both just wanted to go back to the hotel, and Mitch agreed with whatever Lance wanted to do. The bus was pretty quiet, with almost all of the lights turned off.

"Did you like the show?" Lance asked quietly, not wanting to wake JC. They were sitting on the couch closest to his bunk.

"Yeah, it was really great," Mitch answered, smiling. "Lot of screaming girls, though."

"There usually are," Chris said, laughing as he glanced up from a magazine.

In the very back of the bus, Wade was rubbing Justin's shoulders, whispering quietly to him.

"You were great, baby, really great," he whispered, and Justin grinned. "You were fantastic, just like you always are."

"Yeah?" Justin asked. "Because I got too excited and cut Joey off on a dialogue cue. I should apologize."

"Don't worry about it," Wade said smoothly, tonguing the curve of Justin's ear. "He won't mind. You were amazing, baby, and I can't wait to get you back to the hotel to reward you."

Joey listened to them, over Steve's excited description of this new club he wanted to take Joey to, and thought about kicking Wade in the head, or pulling out all of his hair by his tacky dark roots. It was no coincidence that Wade's arrival on the scene, and Wade's smooth transition into Justin's bedroom, almost completely mirrored the transformation of the group into Justin and the Sync's. JC and Justin had always been the vocal leads, but the five of them had always been equals. Lately, though, that seemed to be changing. Some of it might be from them all pursuing their own interests a little more, but most of it was from Wade's subtle and not so subtle leading, which Justin seemed powerless to resist.

"Hey, Joe," Steve said, tapping his knee. "You wanna go, or what?"

"Sorry," Joey said, smiling. "Yeah, I do. Just tuned out for a second."

"Whatcha thinking about?" Steve asked, wondering if it was about Lance and Mitch. Watching the two of them sitting next to each other, neither speaking as they looked out the windows, Mitch leaning casually against Lance's arm, he wondered if his earlier suspicion that something might be going on between the two of them might be true after all. He'd have to ask Joey later.

"Nothing new, and nothing productive," Joey said, shrugging off all thoughts of finding Justin a new, less manipulative boyfriend, at least until the next time Wade spoke or walked into the room. They should have hooked up Justin and Lance when they had the chance, back when both of them were single.

"Do you want to do anything tonight?" Lance asked, watching the streets go by. He wondered what Mitch was thinking. Maybe he'd slept in some of these streets, or walked down them, and now he was riding about them in a luxury bus. It had to be disorienting.

"Only if you do," Mitch answered, turning to smile at Lance. He had his hair pulled back, held at the bottom of his neck with a rubber band, but a couple of strands had slipped out, hanging down on either side to frame his face, and Lance felt his heart flutter a little as he stared into Mitch's eyes, so deep, but so completely impossible to read.

"I think I might just go to bed, but you can watch television or something if you want," Lance said, looking out the window again, tearing himself away. Ever since Mitch had shifted, his arm and shoulder casually touching Lance's, Lance had been hyper aware of it, of how close they were. He brushed it off as just being keyed up from the show, but he also remembered how he had felt in the bathroom last night, and the kind of dreams he had. "I guess I'm just tired. I'm sorry for being such a bad host."

"Lance, you're not being a bad host," Mitch laughed, trying to keep his voice down. "You just spent like two hours dancing almost continuously. I'm amazed you guys can even still walk. I mean, no wonder JC's dead asleep in there."

"He's always like that," Lance said, smiling. "That's why we call him Mr. Sleepy. He pushes himself really hard."

"You all do," Mitch said. "I mean, I never really thought about it, and I haven't been to a concert before, but you guys just had so much energy. You could feel it in the audience."

"Well, we love what we do," Lance said, feeling Mitch shift a little in his seat, his shoulder sliding against Lance's again.

"Wait, you've never been to a concert before?" Chris asked quietly, leaning over. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but, you know, everyone else is all over the bus, and you guys are right here."

"No, I never have," Mitch answered. This wasn't part of his role. He was being honest, and he'd really enjoyed the show. Besides, it would add to his backstory, and help flesh him out, so he figured there was no harm in sharing a little. "My parents, they, um, they didn't approve of stuff like this, of concerts and stuff. And, well, for the past couple years I haven't exactly had a lot of extra money to spend on tickets. I've been to some of the free stuff in the parks, and I've seen some stuff on television, but never anything like this."

"Then I guess we're honored to have been your first concert," Chris said, grinning. "I mean, you're not quite a typical fan, but welcome to our fandom, just the same. You can start worshipping us, chasing after the bus, and trying to steal locks of our hair anytime now."

"Really?" Mitch asked, feigning excitement. "Can I paint your name on my chest in lipstick and stand on my chair at your next show?"

"It'll be kind of hard with those crutches," Chris pointed out. "So Mitch, brand new Nsync fan, who's your favorite member? Is it Joey? No, wait, JC? No, no, it's me, isn't it? I'm your favorite member, right?"

"I, uh," Mitch stuttered, groping for an answer. He didn't want to have to pick a favorite, and risk offending any of his new friends, and then he remembered that they weren't his friends, not really, and that his answer should be obvious. He flushed a little, feeling guilty for a second, but Chris mistook it for blushing. "My favorite is Lance."

Next to Mitch, Lance blushed as well, smiling, and Mitch looked at him. As their eyes met for a second, they both blushed even deeper, and then both glanced away. Chris was a little surprised, wondering if he'd just watched what he thought he saw, but he covered it quickly.

"Of course it's Lance," he said, smirking. "Fans always go for the guys who run them over."

"Hey!" Lance said, but when he looked up, Mitch was grinning, too. Great. The two of them had the same sick sense of humor. "You're just jealous because I'm number one. Mitch likes me more."

"Whatever," Chris sighed, rolling his eyes theatrically. Maybe he'd talk to Joey and JC in the morning, and see if the situation bore watching. He didn't want to meddle in Lance's life, but he didn't want him to get hurt, either. "I'm going back to my magazine."

When they pulled up at the hotel Chris shook JC awake, to a torrent of grumbling and swearing before JC was fully up and aware of what he was saying, and then they all split up. Joey and Steve grabbed a bodyguard and a cab, and everyone else headed upstairs to their suites, bidding each other good night. Chris invited Lance and Mitch over to watch a movie, since JC had already told them all he was going straight to bed, and Justin and Wade practically sprinted from the elevator to get to their room, but Lance declined, wanting sleep, and Mitch didn't want to go by himself. He needed to get to work on Lance again, and he tried to figure out how to start it as Lance keyed their door open with his card. When they got inside, though, the room looked different from last night. The furniture in the sitting room was all shifted off to the side, and a small rolling bed was set up, the sheet folded down and a mint wrapped in foil sitting on the pillow.

"Wow, this takes up a little more room than I thought it would," Lance said, helping Mitch around it. "I asked for it so I wouldn't have to take the couch again."

"Lance," Mitch began, putting a hand on his arm. "Do you, um, do you want me to get my own room? I could bunk with the crew, or sleep in one of those beds on the bus, or something."

"What?" Lance asked. Had he done something wrong, upset Mitch somehow? "Where is this coming from? I told you, you're my guest."

"Yeah, but I don't want to disrupt your life," Mitch said, looking at the rolling bed. He'd been sure that tonight Lance would find some way to share the bed with him, would either come up with some excuse or would just say it right out. Maybe last night he was worried that Mitch was hurt, but now that they were sure Mitch was fine, Mitch was sure Lance would tell him what he wanted Mitch to do. This spare bed, though, this was confusing. "I mean, you shouldn't have to sleep on this, and I don't really want to be underfoot. I don't want to be in your way, Lance."

"You're not in my way," Lance said, patting Mitch on the shoulder. "I know you've only been here for a day, but, you know, I like having you around."

"I, I like being around you, Lance," Mitch said quietly, looking away, doing his best to look shy and vulnerable. "But, you know."

"No, no buts," Lance said, smiling and putting a finger against Mitch's lips without thinking about it. Mitch's lips pursed a little, almost seeming to kiss his fingertip. Lance realized that he was touching Mitch's mouth, and what that could mean, and jerked his finger away. "Besides, you could take up to three days to develop symptoms. I need to keep an eye on you for a little while longer."

Mitch sighed. It had seemed so close, again, but then Lance had backed off, looking almost embarrassed.

"OK, if you're sure, then I'll stay," Mitch said, smiling. "But I can't kick you out of your own bed, Lance. This is your room, and tonight you should actually sleep in your bed."

"But where will you sleep?" Lance asked, unsure again. "Out here, on this thing?"

Mitch looked at him carefully, a slight smile on his pink lips.

"I could," he said quietly, leaning in a little closer to Lance. "Or we could share the big bed. It has plenty of room."

Lance swallowed a huge lump that had just risen in his throat, feeling suddenly like he'd inhaled a mouthful of dust.

"If you're sure you'll be ok out here," Lance said, almost coughing. Mitch sighed.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," he said. Maybe Lance just didn't want him. Maybe Mitch wasn't his type. He only had one card left to play, and it was more or less a desperation measure, but it was all he could think of. He couldn't try it, though, until later.

"OK, cool," Lance said, wondering why Mitch looked a little crestfallen suddenly. "I'm going to go brush my teeth and get ready for bed, ok?"

"Yeah," Mitch said. "Let me know when the bathroom's free."

In his own suite, Justin lay on his back in bed, whimpering in pleasure, his fingers twisted into Wade's hair as Wade swallowed him again and again. When they got back from the concert Wade had been at him before he even finished opening the door, his hands all over Justin's body, sliding under his clothes and up and down his arms, making Justin shake and tremble and burn like they always did. Wade had tugged off all of Justin's clothing, removing his own at the same time, and then brought him into the bedroom and begun to lick him, putting his tongue everywhere, even places Justin never would have thought of. He knew he was lucky to have a boyfriend like Wade, to have someone who treated him so well, and Wade always made sure that Justin was taken care of before he saw to his own needs.

Laying back, his eyes meeting Wade's for a second as he watched his hard shaft slide in and out of Wade's stretched lips, Justin closed his eyes and thought of the first time, of how surprising it had been. He had stayed after a dance rehearsal, when they had only been working with Wade for a few weeks, because he had an idea for a move, and he wanted to talk it over with Wade and see if it was workable. They had both been tired, and the other guys had all left, but Justin wanted to give it a try anyway, and Wade had agreed. The two of them had been working on it for twenty minutes or so when Justin stumbled, a cramp twisting his leg, and he fell to the floor, clutching his calf in pain.

"Justin?" Wade asked, dropping down beside him. His hands were on Justin's leg suddenly, gentle, but firm. "Here, let me help you with that, Justin."

Wade's hands had been so soothing, and Justin barely noticed as they worked their way further up his leg, kneading, massaging, spreading his legs a little. He had his head tilted back and his eyes closed when he felt Wade's hand settle gently onto his crotch and begin kneading there as well, the heel of his hand on Justin's prick as his fingers gently rolled Justin's balls around. His eyes popped open in surprise, and he saw Wade's face right in front of him, Wade leaning forward.

"You're so beautiful, Justin, so perfect," Wade whispered to him, his hand continuing to knead Justin's package. "I've wanted you for so long, Justin, so long. Say yes, Justin, please, say yes."

"Yes," Justin whimpered, feeling his trembling arms give out as he slumped to the floor of the studio.

Wade had been so gentle with him, so loving, worshipping Justin's body with his hands and mouth, kissing him over and over again and telling him he was beautiful. No one had told Justin that before, not like this, not in a way that made it seem real, and no one had ever made him feel like this. Justin's old boyfriend had done some stuff like this with him, but this felt different. This wasn't just fooling around, just playing. This felt real, special, in a way that nothing else ever had to Justin before. Later, when they were both naked, when Justin had cum twice, and had tentatively started to give Wade a handjob, Wade told Justin he loved him, and whispered to him breathlessly that he wanted him, wanted to be inside of him. Looking into Wade's eyes, seeing the feeling there, and the way Wade looked at him, Justin had agreed, and surrendered his virginity to Wade right there on the floor of the dance studio. From then on, the two of them were practically inseparable, and Justin never felt completely alive if Wade wasn't around.

Shaking himself out of the memory, Justin felt himself tensing up as Wade continued to suck at him, washing his tongue up and down Justin's shaft. Justin felt his breath coming in short little gasps, felt his arms tensing and that little tingling in his balls, and tried to warn Wade, but Wade seemed to know. Smiling around Justin's cock, Wade dove down, swallowing Justin completely, and as he felt Justin's head slide into his throat Justin's whole body tensed, his fingers pulling at Wade's hair as he forced Wade involuntarily down on him, pressing Wade's nose into his pubes. Justin cried out, his head thrown back, making a loud yelping sound each time his body tensed and jerked, unable to form any words, and Wade's throat worked furiously, swallowing shot after shot.

Wade smiled, kissing his way up Justin's body before settling on his mouth, pressing his lips to Justin's, feeling Justin sigh and moan beneath him. Wade whispered to him over and over that he was beautiful, and that he loved him, as his hand dipped down between Justin's legs, his fingers working at Justin's ass. Wade knew the other guys weren't fond of him, and he knew why, too. They thought that Wade was just out to use Justin to get himself somewhere, but that wasn't completely true. Wade wanted to get Justin there with him, wanted Justin to be everything he could be. Justin had the looks, and the talent, to make it on his own, but hadn't ever realized it, and as long as he just dutifully followed his friends, making decisions as the five of them instead of watching out for himself a little, too, he wouldn't ever get there. He needed Wade, even if he didn't always realize it, and Wade truly did love him, and want the best for him.

It just so happened that what was best for Justin was best for Wade, too. As far as Wade was concerned, the other guys were just jealous, and he wouldn't let them hold Justin back. Looking down at Justin, seeing his face tense as his eyes squeezed closed and he fought to catch his breath, Wade thought about how much he loved him. He wanted Justin to feel good, and he wanted to feel good, too. The two didn't have to be mutually exclusive, as Wade was about to prove to them both once again. Kissing Justin's lips and chin and neck, Wade lubed up his dick, and began to push Justin's legs open wider, gently maneuvering himself between them, holding his torso above Justin's, the two of them sweating and beautiful. Wade took Justin's hand and brought it to his cock, wrapping Justin's fingers around it, and Justin squeezed it, both of them moaning, Wade's much lower than Justin's breathy high-pitched little boy sighs and whimpers.

"Do you want it, Justin?" Wade whispered, kissing him. "Do you want it?"

"Yes, yes, please," Justin panted, rotating himself back on Wade's probing hand, sliding his fingers up and down Wade's thick, slick shaft. "Please, Wade, baby."

"Put it where you want it, Justin," Wade whispered, holding himself above him. "Put it where you need it, baby."

Justin pulled Wade toward him, pressing the head of his cock to his hole, and both of them moaned together as Wade pushed his way in. Justin tilted his head back, wrapping his legs around Wade's hips, feeling his calves scrape the back of Wade's thighs. Wade looked down, seeing Justin squint with mixed pleasure and a little pinch of pain, and he held himself above him, his arms rigidly locked, as he waited for Justin to adjust, to relax beneath him. He always went slow in the beginning, always waited for Justin to get into it, afraid more than anything of ever forcing him or hurting him. Beneath him, Justin's bright blue eyes slide open, and his hands slid up Wade's smooth back as Wade began to slowly thrust into him.

Laying on the rollaway bed, Mitch stared at the ceiling of the suite and wondered how the other guys managed to sleep through this every night. The light in the middle of the suiteroom was a hanging brass fixture, set in a little medallion of molding that matched the molding running around the edge of the room. The style probably had a fancy architectural name, something Mitch didn't know and Lance probably wouldn't either, and the room was doubtlessly dripping with history, but that was the furthest thing from his mind as he lay on his back, his hands tucked behind his head, listening to Justin's high pitched whimpers through the wall. He closed his eyes, imagining the two of them, trying to use the images to psych himself up for what he was about to do. Wade and Justin were both kind of hot, as guys went, and if you could ignore the fact that Wade was a total asshole.

Mitch slid a hand down his torso, running it over his chest, down his abs, and under the waistband of the boxer briefs that Lance had given him. Judging from the moaning, Justin was the bottom in that couple, and thinking about the domineering way Wade had taken over last night, it came as no surprise to Mitch. He'd seen guys like Wade before, and was willing to bet that Wade had made the first move, and had come on so strong that Justin's head spun. Mitch knew the type, and knew how to spot them. It was nice to let guys think they were in charge sometimes, but you always had to be quick on your feet, and had to be sure you came out on top. Sex could be a dangerous thing, especially under the circumstances that Mitch usually had it, and you could get hurt, or worse, if you didn't watch yourself and watch the guy you were with.

It wasn't just physical hurt, either. You could be hurt in other ways, the way that Lance would be hurt by what Mitch and Keith were doing. Mitch closed his eyes, his hand still working at his cock, which was starting to swell, his ears still filled with the sound of Justin urging Wade onward, begging him to go deeper, harder, and he thought of Lance. Right now, if he turned his head to the side, he would see Lance in the bedroom. Mitch had stripped down to his boxer briefs in front of Lance again, all the lights on, silently begging Lance to go for it, to make a move, but Lance had shyly waited until the lights were out before stripping down to get in bed. In the dim light filtering in from the moon outside Mitch had seen a little of Lance's body, pretending not to be looking, before Lance had slid into his own bed, wishing Mitch a good night and reminding him that they were leaving in the morning.

Mitch thought of that now, massaging himself, and wished that he had seen a little more, that it had been just a little brighter. What he had seen was attractive, that was for sure. Lance's body was smoothly rounded, not hard planes but inviting bulges. He had smooth pecs, and curving shoulders. His arms, which Mitch had seen and felt, seemed strong, and his legs were long and tapering below his flat stomach. There was a hint of abs, not chiseled, bodybuilder ripples, but a more natural, toned expanse. He'd also seen a hint of Lance's bulge, packed invitingly into Lance's boxer briefs. They were tight, not tight enough to really get more than a suggestion, but what was suggested seemed more than adequate for a little fun. Above it all, there was, of course, Lance's face, round, but not fat, just naturally circular. His brownish, blonde streaked hair just begged to be played with, and his bright green eyes, striking in their almost olive lightness, flashed and sparkled when he smiled.

A smile that would tarnish when Mitch and Keith were done.

It was a smile that conveyed sweetness, and joy, and just plain happiness to be alive. However else Lance might feel about anything, Mitch had noticed that his smile was completely unrestrained, that it just burst out of him like the sun slipping out from behind a cloud, lighting up his whole face. Mitch wondered if any of the other guys, any of Lance's friends, ever saw that, ever knew exactly what it was they were seeing, like a bright, tiny little miracle, and then he wondered if Lance would still be able to smile like that when this was over. He wondered if he would be part of smothering that smile, of snuffing it out, and he pushed the thought away. Lance was a mark, that was all, no matter how he smiled.

Mitch gave his now throbbing cock a final squeeze, and climbed out of his bed, limping toward the bedroom.

Justin looked up at Wade, his breath coming in short, grunting gasps that blew across Justin's neck like a hot wind, and raked his hands down Wade's back. Wade was pounding into him, pushing deep, and Justin felt the pleasure building in him, a rising wave that couldn't be pushed back, an itch that seemed to burn more and more no matter how much Wade scratched it. Wade grinned down at him, sucking in breath through his teeth, his dark hair wet with sweat, egged on by Justin's pulling hands, his eager ass, and the endless loud stream of encouragement Justin breathed on every exhale.

"Harder, Wade!" Justin chanted, arching beneath him. "Harder, baby, please!"

Wade reached behind himself, still thrusting, and took Justin's legs in his hands. Leaning back a little, he brought Justin's knees up, planting Justin's ankles on his shoulders, and began to plow into him deeper, grinning even wider as Justin's cries beneath him got louder and sharper.

Lance sighed in his sleep, caught in that twilight dream zone between fully awake and fully asleep. The sounds coming through the wall had also drifted into his mind, and his breathing deepened toward pants as his body responded to his dream. Lance was starting to sweat a little, his nipples stiffening, his penis hard, as he twisted in the bed, sighing again. Usually he just slept through Justin and Wade's noise on the unlucky nights when he lost the round and had to take the room next to theirs. Usually, if he managed to fall asleep before they started, he was ok, but tonight he was just so keyed up already, all sorts of thoughts running through his mind from watching Mitch get undressed for bed. Lance realized as he tried to fall asleep that he was attracted to Mitch, very attracted, and he was almost completely sure that Mitch wouldn't mind if Lance made a pass at him, that he might actually be agreeable to it, but Lance was so scared that he was wrong, so afraid of making Mitch feel uncomfortable and damaging the fragile friendship they were building.

Mitch stood at the end of the bed and looked down at Lance, listening to him sigh. He didn't know for sure what Lance was dreaming about, but he could see the bulge of Lance's erection beneath the sheet. Mitch leaned forward, catching the soft sheet in his fingers, and began to pull it down.

In his dream Lance was walking into a hotel room, a vague, shadowy place, and he knew he was walking into the bedroom. There were voices coming from there, moans and whimpering sighs, and Lance looked down, not at all surprised to see that he was naked, and hard as he stepped through the door. The bed seemed huge, a giant mattress covered in sheets, and Wade and Justin writhed in the middle of it, both of them naked and touching each other. They both looked up when Lance walked in, and they both smiled, sliding down the bed toward him, their tanned bodies undulating like snakes as they crawled across the mattress toward him.

"Lance," Justin whispered, reaching for him.

"We've been waiting for you," Wade panted, climbing off the bed.

Lance looked down at them, his heart pounding, and felt his cock throb as his eyes crawled up and down their bodies. They reached for him, both walking toward him, their cocks hard and jutting out in front of them, bouncing with each step, and they reached Lance at the same time. Justin leaned forward, his hand sliding up Lance's back as he pulled Lance's head forward, smashing Lance's mouth to his own. Wade, behind him, began to kiss his shoulders and neck, and to nibble on his ear. Lance slid his hands down Justin's shoulders, cupping his strong, firm ass, feeling Justin's cock grind against his own as Wade's nudged at his ass crack. Justin plunged his tongue deeply into Lance's mouth, and Lance moaned, feeling them pull him down onto the mattress.

Mitch crawled up the bed, climbing over Lance, seeing up close the body that he'd been thinking about and had barely glimpsed before. He reached out, taking the waistband of Lance's boxer briefs, and began, gently, to tug them down.

Justin and Wade had their hands all over him, and Lance had his hands all over them. The three of them twisted and rolled over each other in a tangle of limbs, tanned, smooth perfection. Lance felt Justin sucking at his nipples, biting them, even as he felt Wade tugging at his cock. He ran his own hands up and down Justin's shaft, feeling how firm and hard it was, and thought of all the times he had seen Justin in the showers, or changing costumes. He knew the two of them had decided not to pursue anything with each other, but now he couldn't imagine what could have made him think that was a wise decision. Justin was here, right in front of him, his body so tight, so sculpted, and Lance's cock was throbbing just looking at it. Wade seemed to just slide away as Lance and Justin felt each other, let their hands crawl all over each other, as their mouths locked together, Justin sucking and chewing at Lance as if he actually meant to consume him.

"I've wanted you for so long, Lance," Justin whispered, caressing his shoulders, running a hand down the center of his chest. "I want you, Lance, I want you."

Justin began to slide down Lance's chest, his hair brushing Lance's chin, his mouth stopping to suckle Lance's nipples again. Lance lay back on the bed, pressing into the sheets, sighing contentedly as Justin licked his way lower, his hands on Lance's thighs, sliding them gently apart. Justin licked once at Lance's navel and then dipped lower, his tongue reaching out like a wet, caressing finger to tickle the end of Lance's cock.

"Yes," Lance sighed, feeling pleasure course through him. "Yes."

Lance sighed again, his hips pushing up, as he felt Justin's mouth sliding down his shaft, and then he suddenly realized that he and Justin would never do this, could never do this. Justin loved Wade, and Lance loved Justin in a different way. He plunged his cock into Justin's mouth again, groaning, and looked down at him, but Justin was getting dim, suddenly, the whole thing was, turning dim and hazy, the room sliding away. Lance realized that he must be asleep, but he felt his body tense again, and suddenly was aware that someone was in bed with him, that his hard cock was in someone's mouth.

Lance's eyes popped open, and he looked down to see Mitch staring up at him, his mouth stretched wide around Lance's cock.

"Mitch?" Lance blurted, grabbing his head and pushing him away.

"Lance?" Mitch asked, Lance's cock sliding out of his mouth with a wet, sucking sound. Mitch's face looked so innocent, and his lips gleamed with saliva. Lance's mind reeled with confusion.

"Mitch, what the hell are you doing?"

To be continued.