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The Collar

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It all starts when Chris dares JC to wear a collar to the People's Choice Awards.

"Is this a dog collar?" JC says, turning it in his hands dubiously.

"Of course not," Chris says. He pulls his jacket on and straightens it, checking himself out in the mirror. "It's a bondage collar."

"Are you sure?" JC squints at it. It's black leather, firm like a belt. Six small flowers made of pink gems are spaced evenly down its length.

Chris walks over and grabs it out of JC's hands. "It's got a loop, see, for a padlock." He returns the collar to JC. "Bondage collar. You should wear it and release your inner kinky fucker."

"Oh, I'm perfectly at ease with my inner kinky fucker, Chris."

JC unrolls the collar, sniffs at it. It's got a strong leather smell -- a heady, kinky scent. "Where did you get it, anyway? You didn't just buy it at a sex shop?" JC scrunches his face, Chris-like, and raises his voice an octave, "Here JC, wear this. It's a bitching wrist-strap."

Chris doesn't respond to the bait. "I had it made specially for you. Usually bondage collars aren't so sparkly." Chris is the master of the guilt trip.

JC holds it up to the mirror. It does kind of match his leather pants. And it has little pink daisies on it. "Okay, I'll wear it."

JC puts it on and spreads his arms, presenting himself for approval. He grins at Chris, and after a moment Chris grins back. "You look great, baby. Let's go."

. . . o 0 O 0 o . . .

JC walks through the groups of people at the after-party, stopping often to say hello. He smiles and waves slightly as he turns on one heel, and almost walks into Nick Carter, who puts a hand on JC's shoulder to steady him.

"Nick, hi." JC grins at him. JC's always liked Nick. And he's worried about him too. Nick seems to lurch from near disaster to near disaster, and Backstreet are brothers in a business where you need every true friend you can get.

"JC." Nick flicks an acknowledging look at JC, then scans the room. "I guess we're both losers tonight."

Nick's a genuinely sweet guy, and JC's disappointed to realize that they run into each other often enough that he knows that Nick is probably half-drunk, cruising, and leaving soon.

"No, man. I mean, it's great just to be here. And you guys were presenting weren't you?" JC almost winces as his own over-eager tone. Nick doesn't want a pep-talk, he's looking for someone to go home with. JC feels his face grow hot.

Nick nods slightly, and JC reflexively nods back. The collar moves against his throat.

JC means it when he says, "You look good." Tan jacket and soft white sweater look wonderful on him. The clothes turn him golden in the sea of formal black.

Nick seems a little taken aback, but smooths his hands down the lapels of his jacket. "Yeah, well, I wear what I get told to wear."

JC has Nick's attention now, and Nick takes a slow look up and down his body. "Who dressed you?" Nick's finger lightly traces the edge of the collar, and JC's breath catches.

JC raises his chin and sways forward slightly. He can feel Nick's breath on his face, and he meets Nick's eyes.

"Chris gave me the collar. He had it made specially." JC's inviting Nick to share the joke, but Nick's face freezes.

Nick's hand pulls back abruptly and there's a foot of space between them again, then two. "Yeah, well, nice talking to you, JC. See ya." He turns and walks away.

JC has no idea what he's said wrong for a second or two, then it hits him. Nick thought that Chris owned him. Fuck, that opens up possibilities. It means that Nick's aware. A fierce excitement clenches JC's stomach, and there it is: the transition between "hey, you're hot" and "I really want to get down on my knees for you".

. . . o 0 O 0 o . . .

Nick's dancing with a blonde woman when JC finds him again in the throng.

"Nick, can I talk to you?" JC's shouting slightly to make himself heard. Nick gives him an empty smile and shrugs.

JC looks at the woman, and smiles at her. She looks happy, happy drunk. He grabs Nick's arm. "Come with me." It looks for a moment like Nick's going to dig in and refuse, but then he ducks his head and allows himself to be pulled along.

JC's already picked the perfect place for what he wants to say, but when he gets to it, Joey is there, enthusiastically kissing? somebody. Nobody. JC moves on. Nick shrugs his arm back, and JC lets him go. He looks back to check, but Nick just nods at him to keep going.

JC spots a windowed door that's partially obscured by two large palms in pots. He reaches between them, and opens the door onto a small balcony. He turns back, relieved to see that Nick's still waiting behind him.

"Well?" Nick's voice is almost obscenely loud in the sudden muffled quiet of the open air. They're facing each other across the small balcony, both leaning against the railing, three feet separating them.

JC had been thinking that he had this whole conversation planned, but Nick's impatient tone and the press of the collar against his throat have derailed him. Nick loosely folds his arms, his drink in one hand. He's stretched his legs out in front of him, slouching, and it's not a boyband pose -- the way he's standing is way too fucking sexy for a magazine. Nick lifts his eyebrows and turns to put his glass on the railing.

"Chris had the collar made for me, but it's not? He dared me to wear it. It was just a joke." JC lifts his chin to show Nick the collar.

"Are those flowers on it?" Nick sounds much less annoyed, and JC nods enthusiastically, moving closer.

"Yeah, little pink ones. I think they're diamontes," JC says. Nick's somehow a lot closer than he was. Their legs touch. JC realises that he's on Nick's side of the balcony. Nick has one hand on his shoulder and he's tracing the collar with his finger.

"Well, I think it really suits you." Nick rubs the pad of his thumb into the hollow at the base of JC's throat. He strokes up until it pushes under the collar and pauses there for a second, curving his fingers around JC's neck.

When Nick's other hand moves down to his waist, JC's caught in a loose embrace and he sways forward until their bodies touch. JC feels like he's been hard for hours and he shifts his weight back on his heels, so he's not grinding his erection on Nick.

"Do you like wearing a collar, JC?" Nick's voice is soft and JC flicks his eyes open. He doesn't remember closing them.

Nick is stroking his collar and throat lightly, and it's making it very hard to think. JC reopens his eyes again and Nick's watching his own fingers on JC and fuck he looks hot.

"Come up to my room," JC blurts out, but he doesn't have time to worry about how desperate that sounds because Nick's already heading for the balcony door.

. . . o 0 O 0 o . . .

JC feels Nick following closely as they leave the elevator. The hallway leading to his room is cool and silent. JC slows, leaning back into Nick's chest. There's no-one else in sight, so JC's half expecting the touch at the centre of his back, but he's not expecting Nick's hand to slip around and down his body. Nick presses against his tummy with one large hand and draws JC back and up on to his toes.

Nick is so much bigger than JC was expecting. Nick's big, like a professional basketball player, or a football guy. One of those big muscly guys that makes JC feel like he's always going to be scrawny, no matter how much time he spends working out.

Nick's voice sounds low and amused in his ear. "Are you gonna open the door, or what?"

"I? ah. Yeah, just. Um." JC bites back his own nervous babbling. He draws a deep calming breath and finally manages to drag his room key out of his jacket.

He enters the darkened hotel room, and flicks the light on in the bathroom. JC's just going to act calm until he is calm. He sits down on the bed, tossing the room key onto the bedside table.

He watches as Nick walks over to the windows and pushes back the curtain to look out into the night.

JC leans back on his elbows. He wants to get out of his uncomfortable clothes and relax, but even more than that he wants to see what Nick will do. JC sits up and takes off his jacket and toes off his shoes.

When he looks back up, Nick is right there -- looming over him, looking oddly out of place, overdressed in the quiet of the room.

JC can't meet Nick's smile, so he speaks to his shoulder, "Do you want a drink or something?" Wow, Nick has broad shoulders.

Nick's neck meets his sweater in a smooth, shadowed curve. Maybe Nick has a tattoo right there. His sweater probably feels soft and warm, like the skin underneath...

JC realises he's been staring. He's been staring a lot, but Nick's still just standing a pace from him, smiling a little wider than before. When JC meets his eyes, Nick leans forward, and puts a hand down past JC's shoulder to support his weight.

Nick's face is only an inch from JC's and JC can smell him now, a spicy, heavy scent that he'd only caught a trace of at the party.

"No, I don't want a drink," Nick says quietly. "I want you." He dips his head to kiss JC and it's sweet and slow, at first.

Then Nick's lips are pushing against him, demanding more. JC opens his mouth to Nick's tongue and leans his head back, the collar pushing against his throat. Nick's free hand trails lightly down to the buttons of his shirt. JC uses both hands to brace himself against the increasing weight of Nick moving against him.

JC opens his eyes, and Nick is looking intently at him. "Do you want me to...?" JC wriggles a little, trying to get out from under Nick.

Nick slides his warm hand inside JC's shirt and smooths it open. He puts his cheek to JC's and whispers in his ear, "Stay where you are. Let me undress you. Can I undress you, JC?"

JC knows that was a real question, and Nick wants an answer. "Please. Oh, Nick, please."

JC has a sudden image of what he must look like to Nick: writhing on a hotel bed, on his back, waiting for Nick to undress him -- asking for it. JC knows he should be embarrassed but then he's dragged back into his body by the fingers tracing his ribs, the warm hot mouth on his neck, the collar that's still demanding so much of his attention.

The thought flashes through his head and what if it was Nick's collar, what if all he had to do was lie there, and let Nick take him. JC wants that, more than he should, and he has to get this back to something like normal before he pushes too hard and scares Nick away.

And that thought is enough to goad JC into action. He pushes up against Nick and sits up, pulling at Nick's shirt. JC kisses Nick as he pulls off the rest of Nick's clothes, shoving his own away too, until they're both naked.

Except for the collar. JC stands up, then starts to remove the collar, but Nick stops him. "Leave it." Nick's hard and flushed and gorgeous.

He stills JC with a hand on his chest and reaches down to flip the covers back and off the bed. He slides both arms around JC, enfolding him in a loose hug. He bends to gently kiss JC's swollen lips.

"You're so sexy." A hand on his ass, and one on the back of his head, and JC is being held still, cosseted. He pushes back a little to lick down Nick's chest and to one nipple, revelling in Nick's indrawn breath. The collar starts to restrict the movement of his neck, and he pushes against it. Nick's hand moves down to trace the collar, moving his damp hair away, exposing the back of JC's neck.

JC shivers and his tongue stills.

"So fucking sexy. I'm going to fuck you, JC." Nick's hand tightens and he draws JC's head up until their foreheads meet. Nick's eyes are clear and blue.

JC shuffles backwards until he can fall back onto the bed, sliding his legs up and opening his knees. He holds his hands still for a moment at his side then can't resist moving them to his cock. He rolls his shoulders, stretching and pushing the collar against his throat.

Nick's intent look softens to a grin. "Where's your stuff?"

"Bathroom. In the Gucci bag."

Nick's only gone a second, and JC can hear him return. He opens his eyes again in time to see Nick drop condoms and lube near the pillows and crawl onto the bed, over JC.

"I love the way you look with your head thrown back." Nick leans forward and puts his weight on his elbows, pushing JC's hands away from his cock. He pushes against JC, sliding him closer and closer to the edge of the bed. JC's head is just over the edge, and his arms are clutching at the sides of the bed when Nick stops pushing.

Nick grabs JC's shoulders, and grinds their hips together. "You like being held down, don't you. I could tie you down, next time."

JC's babbled "Yes, yes," is cut off by Nick's mouth as he kisses him, sliding one big hand behind JC's head to hold him in place. Their bodies slip and push against each other. JC can barely breathe with Nick's weight on him, and the collar presses into his throat.

Nick thrusts against him again, and the collar is too tight. It's cutting off his breath. JC flails his hands up to rip it away, half-panicked. Nick's weight suddenly moves off him and he can breathe again. "It's okay. It's okay," Nick whispers as he removes the collar and drops it to the floor.

JC's neck feels light and strange, and Nick licks the flushed skin of his throat. Nick's tongue feels almost cool, and the long strokes relax JC and he lets his head fall back over the side of the bed.

He opens his eyes, and Nick's face is just there in front of him. JC can feel his own smile. "Nick," he says softly.

Nick's eyes flick down his body for a moment. JC shivers as Nick draws a line of cool lube down JC's chest. Nick slicks his fingers and JC wriggles closer to his warmth, hooking one leg up over Nick's hip. JC looks up as Nick leans in again, wet mouth open over his throat, a distraction from the first cool touch of Nick's fingers between his thighs.

Nick moves up and away from his neck and JC voices a complaint which seems embarrassingly loud. Nick has one hand high on his thigh, and his lubed fingers are pushing gently into him. Nick starts licking at his hip and JC lifts his head again. He has to see this.

Nick's bent over between his legs. His beautiful mouth and hot tongue move restlessly over JC's hips, but Nick seems to be deliberately avoiding his cock. JC doesn't want to look away, but his head feels way too heavy to hold up. He drops it back, and writhes until Nick's hand firms on his thigh and JC's trying hard to hold still. Nick's up to two fingers inside him, and surely soon, soon, he's going to start fucking him.

Nick makes a questioning sound in the base of his throat, and JC lifts his legs. Nick loops an arm around JC's thighs and holds them to his chest as he pushes slowly into him. JC gasps and curls up, tensing his stomach as he tries to shove against Nick, tries to get more.

Nick fucks him, steadily but maddenly slowly. JC rolls his head up again to look at Nick, but the low light and his own breathlessness make it impossible to focus on Nick's face. He drops his head back, and moans. "Please, Nick. Please."

He's sure there are other words that he could use, but he knows that his whole body is begging and he can't think how else to say it.

"God, JC, you're so fucking gorgeous like this."

Nick shifts his weight again, and pleasure rockets through JC. It's still slow, but he's aware of how tight he is. His skin is stretched -- across his chest, over his stomach, his ass and thighs. Nick's supporting almost all his weight and JC's hands are clutching and releasing at the sheets in time with Nick's thrusts.

"I wanted to see you like this ever since I saw you in a collar." Nick's voice is ragged but clear. He starts timing his words with his thrusts. "Fucking. sexiest. thing. you've. ever. worn."

As Nick starts to speed up, and JC wonders if he can come from this alone, Nick brings his lubed hand forward, and wraps it into a fist around JC's cock.

But Nick's fist is tight. He's making JC work for every little bit of friction he gets, but gradually loosens his grasp to give JC enough room to shove roughly into his hand. Just as JC's getting into a rhythm, screwing his cock up into Nick's fist, and then his ass back on to Nick's cock --

-- Nick's hand starts to move with JC, so his cock's not getting any friction at all.

JC rolls his head up wondering if he's doing it on purpose, and Nick's watching his face. "God, Nick, please."

"You look so hot like this. So hot when you're losing control." Nick looks down at his own hand, and adjusts his grip, drawing a gasp from JC that sounds loud in the silence.

"I want you to come for me, JC," Nick says, and his fist moves again, stroking hard, counterpoint to his hips.

JC drops his head back, and he grabs the sides of the bed. Somehow he's started saying please again, and the words sound like porn.

Nick's holding him steady, still hugging JC's legs to his chest with one arm, fucking him faster and giving him a delicious wet warmth to fuck into and he's glad that Nick's so strong because he can. thrust. like. this.

JC's pushing himself up against Nick and he wonders if when he's fucking Nick's tight fist he's feeling what Nick feels when he fucks his own hand. Suddenly the tension that had been coiling tears through him, and JC lifts up, until only his shoulders and outstretched arms are touching the bed, and he comes helplessly in long, shuddery waves.

The next thing JC knows is that he's been pulled back onto the bed. He's still panting and dizzy with the head rush. Nick's cuddling him, and JC's mouth is dry and hot.

He stares at Nick's smooth skin and blinks slowly. His eyelashes brush against Nick's cheek and he realises that Nick's chest is heaving and sheened in sweat, and everything smells like sex.

The idea of a shower rolls through his head. They'd be clean and warm after a shower. But Nick's so comfortable to rest against.

There are clothes strewn all over the room. He should tidy up a little. Nick's breathing has slowed and his hand is petting JC's hair. He's probably just doing that absentmindedly. JC's pretty sure that Nick's owned a puppy, maybe two, at some point.

A shower. Definitely.

JC sits up and crosses his legs. The backs of his thighs feel stretched, and they'll probably be sore tomorrow. He tenses the muscles and they're pretty sore now. Nick's watching through half-open eyes. "Hey, do you want to have a shower?"

Nick's still lying back. He's disposed of the condom at some stage, and the skin on his chest and neck is flushed. He runs his hands through his hair, and sits up. "No, you go. I'll just..." Nick gestures vaguely at the room, and JC nods.

JC's neck is a bit -- he rolls his head back and then forward, a luxuriously slow movement. When he looks at him again, Nick's watching him carefully. "I'm fine," JC says. He smiles reassuringly at Nick, and Nick smiles back.

"I'm just gonna have a shower. Feel free to, you know, join me."

Nick nods, but he's already up and looking for his clothes.

When JC emerges from the shower later, he tries to tell himself that he wasn't expecting Nick to stay. He lies back on the bed, naked, warm, sleepy.

He's not worried about Nick leaving. He's already sure that there is going to be a next time.