Lance stumbles into the outdoor shower stall, body grimy and dusted with sand. Brushing a hand through his floppy hair made dry seaweed and more dirt fall, landing in his eyes and on his lips.
The sound of his friends playing behind the tall wooden planks around him tells him to leave his trunks on, but he doesn't pay attention to his inner voice saying that anyone of them might pop in at any moment and run off with his cloths. A Chris thing, more likely.
He drops the trunks, kicking them directly under the showerhead as the cold water started to spray at his chest and neck.
Sand and grime everywhere. How the hell did he let Justin taunt him into sandcastle fight? Since when did Joey have such a good arm when it came to throwing wet sand clumps? ~Sigh~ He knows that he should have just enjoyed the day.
He did enjoy it of course. What wasn't there to like? The beach, the cold ocean against the 99 degree weather, the half naked women, being buried in the sand and just ol' fashioned goofing off. So what if JC accidentally knocked his ice cream cone into the ground? It was fine. A good day.
The only problem is Joey. Yes, Joey. He had fallen over Lance who had woken up to find that taking a nap on the shore had gotten him underneath at least half a foot of sand. Joey had fallen, bracing himself on his elbows just in time to smile down easily at Lance, who was shocked to have a big Italian alarm clock practically kill him. It's a full bodied smile and the older man leaning down over him in his wet suit, carefully leading one mouth to another before he bolts up to chase someone unsuspecting.
It's so predictable. One kiss and Lance wants more. He has to have more. His lips tingle from the lingering, and his limbs feel heavy just because he suddenly notices that they DO exist, just because Joey had taken enough time to dig his fingers into the sand and find him, underneath everything.
It's one kiss. And not even the first. No. Every kiss he's ever experienced with Joey is short and just ~there~, happening before he even can brace himself and gone before he can fully enjoy it.
He moves backwards, letting the water wash him abdomen, feeling the cool water drip over his cock. The problem with being buried in the sand is the nether-regions, always. The grit rests between his cheeks, rubbing painfully as it worked further into the crevice.
He sighs, turning around with a wince as he bends himself backwards towards the stream, reaching behind himself and spreading his ass wide with one hand as the other brushes away offensive objects.
It's a calm, quiet moment as he does this. By touch and feel and rampant lust he can see Joey behind him, touching intimately, doing more then brushing away unwanted sand, but tickling light hair.
It doesn't take much with the gentle caress of his fingers and faded imagery for him to get so lost that he doesn't hear the creak of the gate. A hand is on his back before he knows it and he springs himself up; a head tilting back before he has a chance to bean whoever it is the nose.
Joey laughs like he always laughs, with crescent moon eyes and chest and stomach moving way too much for any of it to be faked. And Lance grins like he always grins when he's embarrassed. Closed lips and suddenly, too many teeth through and one unsure, barking laugh before he looks somewhere else, on the ground preferably.
"Act normally man," Joey laughs, leaning on the wall but not exactly because the structure probably isn't that well made, and Lance blesses Joey for not exposing him naked to the whole beach. "I've seen naked before. You naked. Relax a bit."
Lance turns, wiping the spray over his body. He's glad that the water is so cold now. He doesn't know what he'd do if he could keep an erection right now.
"Do you like it? When I kiss you?"
Lance tilted his head back, letting water fill his mouth. He leaned a little more, spraying a fountain on his face. He nods as soon as the cascade stops, opening his mouth again with more water.
"I mean, if you don't like me doing it, that's fine... but you gotta let me know ok?"
"'K," Lance mutters, spitting in the air again.
He fills his mouth again with water, but before Lance can protest, Joey's hands are clamped firmly on his face and he's turned, getting a front full of wet suit and mouthy Italian and closed mouthy Italian lips on his plain, old, cross-bred lips.
He laughs through the kiss, ripping Joey's hands away and firing blindly in a general direction of Joey's face.
The stream dies and he grins at Joey, whose eyes are still forced shut to keep out the spray. He opens them slowly, then blinks quickly like he's just been woken from some story fabled sleep. Lance grins, then the smile fades as Joey regains his composure and looks ready to pounce.
He grabs Lance, naked and all and flings him over his shoulder. The wet blond kicks and tries to wiggle his way off, but it's too late as he sees the back view of the shower door closing, and his trunks still under the showerhead. He isn't sure whether he wants to cry for help or not, since doing that will draw more attention. Instead, he kicks and flushes deep red as he sees the blanket full of Nsync followers who are giggling madly as they notice that the line of his back doesn't lead to the shorts that he's been wearing all day.
"JOEY!" he cries, no longer able to hold in the embarrassment as Joey laughs and spins him around in dizzying circles for the whole world to see Lance's pale, white ass. "JOEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"