For tavellafic: "Justin/JC, anything set in the world of "Never Get Far"."

"Shh," JC said, and put a hand over Justin's mouth. "Shh. You have to promise that you'll keep your voice down. The last thing we need is for anyone to notice." Justin's eyes were wide in the moonlight reflected up from the sand and the neon that crept through the boards above their heads, and he nodded. "You promise? Can I take my hand off your mouth?" Justin nodded again, and JC did.

"You try being quiet when you're doing that," Justin hissed, barely audibly. "I'm just sayin', if it's quiet you want, you should probably take your hand off my dick."

"Oh?" JC raised an eyebrow. "Do you really want me to?"

"No!" It was a little louder than it should have been, and Justin bit his lip quickly and dropped his voice again. "It's just. Under the boardwalk? That's so -- so --"

JC rubbed his palm along the length of Justin's cock. Justin was wearing cut-off denim shorts and no underwear and a tank top that proclaimed itself to be the property of the California Penal Institute, which JC thought might not be a joke, because Chris had given it to him and God only knew whether or not Chris could find people who knew people who, etc. Justin was sprawled out on the beach towel they'd smuggled out to the oceanside. Justin had his head tipped back to look at the underside of the boards where God only knew how many feet were treading. Justin's face was flushed and his eyes were dark and his toes curled into little fists in the sand, digging out little hollows that shifted and turned and fell back in on themselves when Justin's heel edged a little closer.

"So?" JC asked.

"So fucking hot," Justin mumbled, and let his knees fall open a little further.

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