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Date Posted: 18:34:14 03/17/02 Sun
Author: Lara
Subject: Like We Never Had a Broken Heart

LIKE WE NEVER HAD A BROKEN HEART


Don’t be afraid to hold me tight/You know I won’t break in two/What we’re doing here tonight/Sure beats what we’re going through...


“Josh, I’m sorry,” Lance said. “I got stuck in a meeting and this is the first I could get away.”
“That’s okay.” JC ran his fingers around the squares of the countertop. “So, you gonna get the next flight out?” He asked hopefully. “I know there’s usually one around nine. That’s the one you usually take.” JC hated the whining tone in his voice.
“Well...” Lance began, and JC knew he wouldn’t be seeing his boyfriend anytime soon. “I’m sorry...we have meetings first thing tomorrow morning, and I can’t get out of them. I should be out of there by this time tomorrow.”
“Right,” JC sighed.
“I will make this up to you, Josh. I promise you that.”
“Right,” JC said again. “I love you, Lance.”
“Love you, too, baby. I’ll talk to you later.”
JC hung up and went to his wallet. He pulled a quarter out of the change section and dropped it into a three-gallon jug. He dropped a quarter every time Lance backed out of a plan, or didn’t come home when he said he was going to.
The jug was over half way full.

“I gotta go.” Justin straightened his tie and looked at Chris. “It’s her mom’s birthday.”
“I don’t see you hurrying over to MY house to celebrate MY mom’s birthday,” Chris snapped.
“First of all, I don’t even know when YOUR mom’s birthday is. Secondly, I have to go to things that involve my girlfriend.” Justin sprayed on cologne.
“And your boyfriend doesn’t count?” Chris asked with a sigh. He hated the way he acted when Justin went to do things with Britney. Suddenly any type of maturity disappeared, and he acted like a whining teenager.
“Chris...it’s not the same. Of course you count...but I can’t come out. No one can know about us.” Justin kissed Chris’ cheek. “I’m sorry.”
“Whatever.” Chris stood. “Have a nice night.” He stormed out of Justin’s house, slamming the door behind him.

“Hey.” Chris heard an all too familiar voice behind him and turned around. “Chris.” JC bent over, panting for breath. “I saw you down the walkway and ran to catch up.”
“JC, what are you doing here?” Chris asked.
JC looked around the airport. “Catching a plane. That’s what MOST people do in an airport,” he teased gently. “What about you?”
“Me, too. I was gonna go to New Orleans for a while. Take a few days off.”
“Oh.” JC looked at Chris. “Justin again?”
“Yeah. Britney’s mom’s birthday,” Chris said softly. “Um, where are you off to?”
“Atlantic City,” JC replied. “I have a bunch of quarters and a free weekend, so...” JC shrugged.
“Lance is still in New York?” Chris asked. JC slowly nodded. “Mind some company?”
JC gave Chris a surprised smile. “Yeah, man. I’d love it. I’m hopping on one of those little private things. I know there’s room for you.”
“Cool. I’ll just trade this baby in and meet you at the gate.” Chris waved his ticket in the air.
“Great. Gate six B,” JC told him, and Chris trotted off to exchange his ticket.

They decided to share a suite, and they were settled into one of the penthouses at the Tropicana almost immediately upon their arrival in Atlantic City. “Why Atlantic City?” Chris wanted to know as he unpacked his small suitcase. “Why not the Bahamas or something?”
“I wanted to go somewhere I knew Lance would never go,” JC said simply. He lifted a small box out of his suitcase and opened it.
“Jesus, JC, when you said you had quarters, you weren’t kidding!” Chris stared at the shiny pile of coins.
“Yeah...I’ve had a lot of opportunity to save them.” Cups from the slot machines were already provided, and he filled cup after cup, finally calling down to room service. He was told he could get a larger container, and soon someone knocked on the door. They handed JC a small canvas bag, and he dumped the quarters into it.
“I woulda figured you for something like blackjack or poker,” Chris said.
“No…Lance likes table games. I’m not smart enough for those,” JC said, and Chris wondered if Lance had once told him he wasn’t smart enough. “I think the slots are fun.”
“Then let’s go!” Chris pulled on his jacket and they went down in the elevators. He looked around the casino. “I don’t like this. It’s...boring.”
“Me either.” JC looked around. “Caesar’s is nearby. That place has class...let’s go there.”
“You’ve been here before?” Chris asked. JC shrugged.
“Once or twice. I got a lot of free time.” They left Tropicana and walked down to Caesar’s.
Chris knew what JC meant by class. Atlantic City was by no means Las Vegas, and it showed in most of the casinos. But Caesar’s had the statues out front and the waitresses in togas and the whole atmosphere. JC and Chris planted themselves at adjoining 25-cent slot machines, tucked into a corner of the casino floor. Chris tossed seven dollars worth of quarters in, winning three dollars back, before he realized that he was having an amazing time. Here he was, missing his boyfriend desperately, feeding quarters into a slot machine...and he was having a ball. He beamed at JC. “You realize how insane this is? We’re fucking millionaires, and we’re drowning our sorrows in quarter slot machines.”
JC grinned back. “I know. Isn’t it great?” He pulled the lever and a bell went off. Quarters started clanging into the tray and JC let out a whoop.
“JC! You won fucking three hundred dollars!” Chris yelled. He hugged JC. JC hugged back and they slowly pulled away.
“Let’s go drown our sorrows in a nice dinner,” JC suggested.

“This is amazing. You should try it,” Chris said. He cut a piece of his filet mignon off and fed it to JC. They were sitting cross-legged on JC’s bed in their suite. They had ordered crabcakes, filet mignon, a few other items that JC had tried before and swore were good but Chris doubted, and two bottles of champagne.
“Not bad,” JC said, finishing his glass of wine. He giggled as he looked at Chris. “Yeah, you can really tell we’re pop stars who sell out stadiums. Our idea of a nice dinner is sitting in a hotel room, eating gourmet food on a bed.” He giggled again. “With champagne.”
“You’re drunk,” Chris said, laughing at JC.
JC instantly sobered. “No, I’m not. I’m just enjoying myself.” He looked Chris in the eye, and Chris read the misery. “For the first time in forever.”
“Yeah,” Chris said softly. “I understand.”
JC put his plate down and looked at Chris. “I’m so lonely,” he whispered. “Lance is always gone on business. He never asks me to come along, and he acts like he’d rather be there than with me.”
“Justin will never admit that we’re involved,” Chris said. “He’ll never come out. He’ll pretend to the world...and it will never be real.”
“I’m sorry,” JC whispered. He reached out and wiped some crumbs from Chris’ goatee. Chris took the slender wrist in his hand, studying it. It was so fragile, like the sadness in JC’s eyes. He held the hand carefully, then slowly kissed the palm.

We both loved and lost before/And know the sadness it can bring/Tonight let’s close the door/And hold on to the nearest thing/Let’s keep hanging on/So we won’t fall apart/Let’s make love tonight/Like we never had a broken heart

“What’s going on?” Chris whispered, his eyes never leaving JC’s face.
“I don’t know,” JC whispered back.
“I’m gonna...uh, I’m gonna go take a shower.” Chris stood. “Thanks for dinner.” He went out of the room and hurried to his own room. He went into the bathroom and turned on the shower.
Chris stood under the water, wondering why he had felt the need to kiss JC’s palm, wondering why he had felt the need to cradle the fragileness that was JC. He had Justin. He loved Justin. And JC was with Lance.
When he walked out of the bathroom in his boxers, toweling his hair dry, he saw JC in the doorway of the bedroom. “Hi.” JC came in and shut the door. He had the second bottle of champagne in his hand. “I don’t...don’t let me be alone tonight, Chris.” Tears swam in JC’s eyes. “I can’t be alone again.”
“Shh.” Chris cradled JC in his arms. “Don’t cry, Jayce. Don’t cry. He just doesn’t know...”
“Don’t talk about him, okay?” JC begged. “It’s just us here. Just us.”
“Just us.” Chris cupped JC’s face in his hands and carefully kissed him. “Just us.”

Don’t be afraid to close your eyes/Pretend I’m someone that you love/And I won’t have to tell you lies/’Cause it’s not you I’m thinking of


Chris sat back and watched as JC slowly undressed. Inch after inch of thin body was revealed. Chris was afraid that he’d be repulsed; everyone knew that JC seriously needed to gain some weight. But all he could think about as JC’s nakedness was exposed was that JC was absolutely beautiful. Absolutely perfect. JC slid his lithe body over Chris, kissing his neck. “You...oh...” Chris gasped. JC slid a cool hand up, rubbing over his nipples. “Fuck...” Chris moaned.
“Oh...Chris...you’re beautiful,” JC whispered. He squirmed down, taking Chris’ boxers with him. He kissed up the insides of Chris’ thighs before sucking the head of his cock into his mouth.
Chris shut his eyes, arching up into JC’s mouth. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost pretend it was another body above him, another mouth drawing him closer and closer to orgasm. Chris’ eyes flew open, and he looked down at the dark head that was bobbing over his cock. He fisted his head in the long hair and pulled until JC came up to kiss him. “JC...stop...”
“What? I’m sorry...is this wrong?” JC pulled back.
“No...I just...I want you inside of me,” Chris whispered. JC kissed him again.
“I don’t have anything with me. I wasn’t planning on this,” JC told him. Chris smiled a little.
“Me either. You don’t have to use anything...”
“Yes, I do.” JC got up and went into the bathroom. He came out grinning. “The Tropicana apparently hopes that their clientele practices safe sex.” He held up a condom. He also held out a bottle of hand lotion. “This should work.”
JC carefully moistened his fingers and slid them into the tightness of Chris. Chris’ moans were so low that he could almost think it was Lance. He could imagine the feeling of Lance’s warmth, imagine the way that Lance moaned as he worked on him, but this wasn’t Lance. It was Chris.

Let’s keep hanging on/So we won’t fall apart/Let’s make love tonight/Like we never had a broken heart


Chris grabbed hold of JC’s shoulders as JC slid inside. “Oh...fuck yes...” Chris gasped. Sex with Justin had been rough and hurried the last few times, and this was making love the way Chris remembered it. He closed his eyes, feeling JC’s mouth lick at his neck and he thrust.
“Chris...you feel so good...it’s been so long,” JC murmured. JC loved the way Chris felt around him, tight, yet warm, pulling every nerve out through his cock. Lance seemed to have forgotten what foreplay was, and more often then not he rolled around with JC until they both came, then got up to make a phone call or send an email. JC sucked at Chris’ neck as he braced himself on his elbows. “Are you okay?” He asked.
“Oh, yes, Jayce...” Chris slid a hand down JC’s chest. He moved the hand down to where their bodies joined, lightly running a finger around the base of JC’s cock as he slid in and out. JC gasped, blue eyes fluttering closed. Chris then began to slowly stroke himself. “Yes...J...harder...” Chris begged. JC didn’t miss the reference to “J”. He knew it didn’t stand for JC. But he did what Chris asked. He gave it to him harder.

Tonight we’ll just pretend/We’ve been in love right from the start/Let’s make love again/Like we never had a broken heart/Oh, let’s make love again/Like we never had a broken heart


“You could do so much better,” JC murmured as he held Chris in his arms. The bottle of champagne was almost empty. “You don’t deserve to be left home alone whenever Justin wants to scratch his itch with Britney.”
“You’re one to talk about being home alone,” Chris pointed out. “I thought we weren’t talking about them.”
“Right.” JC kissed Chris, drawing him closer. “Make love to me,” he whispered. Chris was only too happy to comply.

The morning came too soon, and neither Chris nor JC was interested in staying another night in Atlantic City. They caught an early flight, and were back in Florida by late afternoon. They had both left their cars in the parking garage, and they walked into the cool building together.
“I’m on six,” Chris said.
“My car’s on three,” JC said softly. Chris pulled him into a dark corner of the garage.
“Look, JC...thank you...I mean it. This was amazing.”
“Thank YOU,” JC replied. “Chris, I meant what I said. You deserve better.”
“Like you do,” Chris said.
“Right,” JC whispered. They looked at each other, knowing full well that nothing was going to change. “I’ll see you later.” JC headed for the steps to the third floor. Chris closed his eyes, unable to watch JC walk away.

Don’t be afraid to close your eyes

THE END

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