nsync in black and white

Disclaimer: this is fiction. We made it up.

26 ficlets

by audreysrev, bonus stories

it's okay

Justin hasn't answered his phone all day. He knows Cameron is pissed. Just by the amount of times she's called and the messages she's left. Though he hasn't listened to those either. He doesn't need to.

He's not really in the mood to hear her bitch. Not ready to listen to her version of what he said.

The only call he answers is JC's. Just after dinner and Justin is chilling in his hotel room, flipping through channels.

One glance at the caller id and he's flipping his phone open. The only thing he hears is JC laughing.

After a couple minutes, Justin is ready to hang up. He can hear JC gasping, trying to stop, saying sorry over and over

"Josh." He finally stops at the sound of Justin's voice.

"Oh, Justin. I would have called earlier, but I just heard." Justin scowls even though JC can't see him. JC knows him so well, it doesn't even matter if they're in the same room. Or country, really. "Have you talked to her?"

His voice is a little more subdued, not quite as amused. But Justin can hear it. It's still there, just buried a bit.

"She's called." Picking at the bedspread, Justin feels like he's twelve. JC makes a little humming sound.

"You have to talk to her eventually."

"I know, JC." He doesn't mean to snap it, but he's so damn frustrated. He was joking and no one seems to understand. Why does it have to be such a big deal?

"Yea, yea. Look, you wanna hang tonight?" No, he doesn't want to hang out. He's still pouting and definitely not in the mood for a cheer-up session. JC will have him smiling in less than five minutes.

"No." He's pretty much set to wallow for the night. Even though he knows JC won't let him.

"Justin." High-pitched whiny, it's JC at his finest.

"No." Justin drags the word out as long as he can, knows JC is cringing.

"Fine then. I'll just come to your hotel." Just as soon as the words are out of his mouth there is a knock at Justin's door.

"You're kidding right?" Voice incredulous, Justin merely stares at the door. JC laughs gleefully and Justin hears it in surround. "You're such a fucker."

But he gets up, opens the door. He's still holding his phone when he pulls JC in for a hug.

"I missed you." JC just tightens his hold, kisses Justin just below the ear.

"Missed you too, J."

take me over

He's been back from the war for almost a year. Keeps his head down, stays out of the way. He is a loyal Southerner, fought for the cause.

Now, though, he just wants to be left in peace. Wants to figure out how to get over the horrors of war, the nightmares that plague him.

He gets about two hours of sleep a night before they wake him. Images of friends dying, crying out for help. Prisoners being shot just because they belong to the other side. Blood and mutilated flesh, it's all he sees at night.

His dreams only haunt him at night, though. Men from his regiment, some of the survivors, have gone crazy. Just can't deal with all the images. Can't get rid of them.

For Justin, work helps. He rebuilds his small farm, starts anew on the ruined structures.

The arrival of Northerners is all over town. They want to see the devastated buildings and the graves of the unknown soldiers. Justin isn't interested in playing guide.

When one stumbles onto his land, Justin is forced to pull out the old shotgun. The one he had used during the war.

"I mean no harm." Hands raised in surrender, the man looks startled, lost. "I'm looking for the Timberlake farm."

"You found it." Justin doesn't relax his stance. Turns out the soldier doesn't die so fast even though he's in civilian's clothes.

"You were in the 8th cavalry?" His speech is thoughtful, careful. Justin nods, lets down his shotgun.

"What do you want?" The man brushes long hair from his eyes. Blue, Justin notes absently. Watches as he pulls out a piece of paper.

"I would like to hear your story." He holds the paper out, but Justin makes no move to take it. Has no intention of telling his story. Not so soon. Not to a Northerner. "I mean you no harm."

"No." He takes a look at the man, his clothes and his fine horse. He definitely doesn't belong in Memphis. Not so soon after the war.

Before either of them can say anything, Justin hear shots. Knows they're coming from the center of town, moving towards them.

He only has a minute. Has to decide what to do before the shots get closer, right on them.

"You better tie that horse to the back. He'll be dead soon." His words are short, but he's already moving to the startled horse. Pulling on the reins, he whistles, urges the damn thing to move. "You too if you don't get in the house."

His words seem to pull the man from his trance. Justin watches him. Watches his graceful movements towards the door.

It feels like forever before they're actually in the house, Justin peeking from behind a curtain. He lived through the war just to deal with this in his own home? He's definitely not going down like this.

Before he can reach for the gun, move to the door, the stranger is holding onto his arm. Holding him in place.

They watch together the scene unfold. The blacks. The whites. All of it one big mess of blood and flesh. Justin's lost in it.

When it's finally over. Men dead or dying outside, Justin can only feel. The tears sliding down his cheeks. The strong hand wrapped around his.

He knows none of this will be over soon.

so much more than friends

The party is blazing. Girls in every corner. Red cups in every hand and tons on the floor. JC smiles, nods at one of his brothers.

He likes parties. Just not the ones at his own house. Parties at Delta Tau or Sigma Pi. But not here, not where he has to clean up afterwards.

Sometimes it sucks being Rush Chair. Especially on party night.

But it's Rush Week and JC is excited about the coming year. The guys they're looking at are going to be awesome. Good brothers.

Out of the corner of his eye, JC spots a guy he hasn't met yet. He can spot a freshman a mile away, but this guy isn't one. Doesn't act like one.

He's leaning against a wall, smiling at a pretty brunette. Not his girlfriend, but she looks like she wants to be.

JC should introduce himself, make a good impression. But just as he's about to turn away, the guy catches his eye, lifts his cup.

Now he can't walk away. That would be extremely rude. And he's wearing his pin.

JC sucks it up. Takes a deep breath and starts over. It's only a couple steps, but suddenly he's too close.

"JC Chasez." His hand doesn't shake. His voice doesn't waver. He's actually quite proud of himself. Because this definitely is the most beautiful man he has ever seen.

"Justin Timberlake. Great party." His hand is warm. JC holds on only for a second before stepping back. Just a little. Enough that he can breathe. He can't help but fidget a bit as Justin watches him.

"Yea. Are you pledging?" He shrugs, just a lift of the shoulders and JC can almost imagine what it would be like to lean over him, thrust into him.

He has to physically stop himself from shuddering.

"Maybe. I'm checking out a couple different frats. You're a brother?" JC likes the sound of his voice, the way he thinks about what he's saying before he says it.

"I love this place. The brothers are great and the house is pretty sweet. Better than some of the others." This is why JC is Rush Chair. Because he's the best at convincing guys to rush.

He knows the other fraternities so well. Knows why his is better than the others. Knows for sure that this is the right place for Justin.

Some guys he can pick out right away. They're too stuck-up, not laid back enough. Or they're too laid back, never go to class.

JC barely notices when the girl slides away, he's so focused on Justin. The blue of his eyes, the slight curl in his short hair.

"What year are you?" He's just curious. Sure.

"Freshman, you?" JC really hadn't pegged him as a freshman. Still wouldn't.

"Senior." Justin nods, steps a little closer. They're almost standing toe to toe, but JC can't make himself move away.

"You should show me your room. Convince me." He adds a little half-smile at the end. With a little wink, he's moving away, weaving through the room. JC's not more than a step behind.

out of place and under-dressed

The morning after isn't weird. It's surprisingly normal. JC wakes up just after eight. No class until after ten and he's got plenty of time.

As he rolls away from the wall, he spots Justin. Watches him pull on his pants. The ripple of muscle and the golden expanse of skin. Every movement brings back moments of last night.

JC just watches him. As he tiptoes around the small room, picking up articles of clothing. It's not until he has to put on his shoes that he notices JC.

"Hey." His smile is beautiful. "I didn't want to wake you."

"It's okay." JC smiles back at him. "What time is your first class?"

"Nine." He checks the clock after tying his shoe. Leans over JC. "I was thinking dinner tonight. If you're not busy."

"No. Not busy at all." They agree to a time, a place to meet up. Then, just before he leaves, Justin closes the space between them.

Teeth biting down on JC's bottom lip, Justin pulls softly, kisses him deeper. JC's just about to pull him closer, when Justin moves away.

With a sweet little smile Justin kisses him one more time, quickly, and then he's out the door.

Dinner with Justin.

He's got a rush event at three. Dinner isn't until seven and he should get there with no problems. But he can't deny that there's a small part of him that doesn't want Justin to rush anymore.

He would be great in Tau Kappa, but JC couldn't watch him go through the pledge process. Wouldn't want to.

He really doesn't have much say. But he hopes Justin isn't at the Rush event. Hopes that he'll have time to change and look nice before dinner.

to have and to hold

He's straightened his tie. Once. And then again. He's paced for a bit. Four steps to the door and three to the window. He's had three bottles of water and gone to the bathroom twice already.

He's totally nervous. It's his wedding day and he's completely and utterly nervous. Not scared. Just nervous. Palms sweating, tie permanently crooked.

Everything is perfect, he knows. His mother took care of the flowers and the reception. Karen took care of the chapel and the tuxedos. It's all perfect. And Justin can't sit still.

Two soft knocks draw Justin to the door. But when he tries to open it, the knob won't budge. He pulls a little harder.

"Justin." It's JC. JC on the other side of the door and they're not supposed to see each other before the big moment. He rests his head against the wood, wishes so bad he could open the door. Let JC hug him. He's so nervous. "You okay, J?"

JC sounds a little worried, but his voice doesn't waver. He isn't nervous at all.

"Little nervous." His voice cracks a little and he winces. He likes JC to think he's strong. Brave.

"Oh, baby." JC makes a little noise. Justin can almost imagine he's in the room with him. Just them. "It'll be okay. Few more minutes. You be okay until then?"

Justin nods, forgets JC can't see him.

"Yea. I'll be good." He's convincing himself more than JC. But the butterflies are starting to go full force in his stomach.

"Justin? You want me to send Lance in? Chris?" Justin takes a deep breath. It would be nice to have one of the guys with him. But no. He can do this. Time to step up.

"I'll be fine, C. Promise. Ten minutes?"

"Ten minutes." Justin can hear him smile. "Love you."

"Love you too." And he can do this. This is better than recording, better than the Grammys. And Justin is ready.

faster, faster

It's hot out. Middle of summer and Justin decides to mow the lawn. JC thinks he's crazy, watching him from the window.

Sixty percent humidity and it's a hundred degrees out. But when Justin makes up his mind to do something, there's no stopping him. JC doesn't even try anymore, knows there isn't any point. Justin will just pout until you give in. Or completely ignore you until you give up.

JC doesn't put up a fight this time. Not when Justin announces that he's going to mow the lawn. Not when he actually pulls a lawnmower from the shed. He just leaves a glass of ice water on the table out back.

He doesn't watch for very long. Flips through a magazine for a while. Turns on the television to some home improvement channel. Even sits down at the piano. But no matter where he goes in the house he can hear the buzzing of the mower.

Mostly he's avoided all windows that face the backyard. Glances quickly if he passes one, but for almost twenty minutes, he manages to stay away.

His avoidance plan, however, goes down in flames.

Outside Justin is slowly stripping off his shirt. The muscles ripple under his back and JC is mesmerized. Can't tear himself away. He's taking his time and JC knows that he's playing, showing off. He doesn't care a bit.

He stares as Justin pulls the shirt over his head, rolls his shoulders once and then again. Wipes his face with his shirt and looks back. He doesn't have to search, knows exactly which window JC is watching from.

JC doesn't look away, meets Justin's stare head-on. One minute stretches into two and then Justin's flipping off the mower, heading towards the house. Instead of waiting, JC heads for the bedroom.

He knows Justin will find him.

time well spent

He's called tech support. Even tried that online chat thing. Then called tech support again when the online guy couldn't help. Wouldn't help, JC thinks spitefully.

He really hates computer. Modems and routers and ethernet cables. He has no clue what any of it means. Can barely find the Express Service Code. They actually have to tell him where it's at.

After three hours he's tired, whiny and not in any kind of good mood. He calls Justin.

"What did you do to this thing?" When he finally arrives, Justin is bouncy, smiling from ear to ear. JC just wants to hit him. Make him fix the stupid computer.

He grunts, motions at the computer. Justin just shakes his head, goes to work.

It takes no time. Justin has the thing fixed and connecting perfectly in less than fifteen minutes. JC stares in disbelief. He can barely turn the thing on and Justin has it done in ten minutes? So not fair.

He's sulking and doesn't even care. Arms crossed over his chest, JC glares.

It's worse when Justin doesn't even notice. Buzzes happily around the kitchen, makes himself a sandwich and pulls out a coke. Even offers one to JC.

Finally he's still. He's finished his sandwich and his eyes follow JC pacing through the room. JC can't stop, is so annoyed.

"It's not a big deal, you know." JC whips around, opens his mouth and stops cold, sees the look in Justin's eyes. The understanding.

His shoulders slump, eyes fall. He leans forward, lets Justin wrap his arms around him.

"It's just a stupid computer, C." Kisses him on the temple, the tip of his nose. "Got it?"

He nods. He knows. Just a stupid computer. Justin squeezes him, doesn't take a nod for an answer.

"Yea. I got it."

so hard i feel it

Justin's tired when he gets back to the hotel. Not exhausted, he's still running high on adrenaline. But his body is tired, a little stiff.

A quick shower and a movie, maybe some room service. Chill out for a while. That's the plan. Or that was the plan.

He's a little creeped out. The lights are on and the television is playing some crappy porn, really loudly. He knows he turned the lights off before he left and doesn't remember turning the television on at all since they've been in Chicago.

Two steps inside and Justin laughs. It's short and not at all amused. But it fades into something a little more real.

Lying in the middle of his bed is JC. Naked, one hand on the remote and the other resting on his thigh, he just smiles.

Justin drops his bag, climbs onto the bed without a word. He forgets how long it's been but he could use a night of loving, a night of loving JC.

JC murmurs a few words into his neck, allows Justin full access. Just sprawls there, lets Justin take his time at his hairline and then his jaw. Lets him work his way down, licking and biting softly.

Justin listens to his soft moans, bites a little harder. But then he's moving up again, covering JC's body with his own. He licks the base of his neck, his collarbone.

"No sex tonight." Justin smiles, a real smile, as JC coughs and sputters.

"But. But I got all ready and everything." JC's eyes are wide and his mouth hangs open. His hands move furiously as he gestures, slapping against Justin's body occasionally.

"I know, baby. I'll make it up to you." A soft kiss and Justin is curling into JC, head tucked under his chin, hand holding on to his hip securely. JC isn't going anywhere.

Justin can feel the fight leave him, knows it's gone when JC wraps his arm around him, draws little patterns on his forearm.

Justin loves when JC visits him on tour. Loves that JC will just cuddle with him, won't call him a baby or leave in a huff.

Justin loves to tour, but mostly because he know JC will come see him. That JC will come when he needs him, hold him when he really needs it.

i will never let you fall

Justin means forever when he says it. It's not some experiment, not just sowing his oats. It's really forever.

"We can't do this, Justin." They've been over it a dozen times. More than that. JC sounds tired, exhausted. Justin almost doesn't care.

But it's JC and Justin will always care about him. Always love him.

Two days ago, Justin had kissed him. Right in the middle of a conversation. JC was talking excitedly, waving his arms around. The kiss had stopped him cold.

Justin had caught him with his mouth hanging open, had snuck in a bit of tongue. Not too much, just a little bit.

JC hadn't said anything when he pulled away. Just stared, mouth opening and closing. Justin would have laughed. If only it had been a joke, if it hadn't mattered as much as it did.

He's listened to all of JC's reasons. The group, the media. It all mattered, he knew.

And he knew that he should care more. Knew that he should agree with JC on all counts.

Even as JC shot him down, Justin still loved him. Even when he nodded his head, said that it would be for the best.

Even though he heard the words, Justin could see the pain in JC's eyes. See the look he gave him before leaving the room.

Mostly, Justin had felt JC return that kiss. Had felt the tentative touch from JC's tongue. Had felt the soft touch at his hip, could still feel the heat days later.

They couldn't risk what they had going. The number one album in the country, sold-out shows.

They couldn't even risk it for love.

Justin had heard the words, though they hadn't been spoken. Had heard the words so often over the last three years, sometimes quiet and sometimes so loud he had to cover his ears. But he heard it every time JC said it.

"I love you, Justin."

This was what Justin had always wanted. And it was because of this that he couldn't have what truly mattered.

through it all

They've been best friends forever. Since he was ten, Justin has looked up to JC.

They've been through everything together. Lawsuits and millions of albums sold. Records broken.

They've been through many girlfriends. And even a few boyfriends.

Justin counts JC as his one true best friend. Over Chris and even Trace.

He also counts JC as his first crush. Before Britney and even Janet. It's always been JC.

But Justin is grown up now, an adult. He's moved on. He's practically living in Cameron's pocket. That's got to mean something.

In the end, it does. Justin is famous in his own right, no longer has to look up to JC. Now, it's JC in the shadows, hiding in the wings.

When he chooses fame and fortune, Justin doesn't realize what he's giving up.

It only hits him later. When he's recording with JC and his glances no longer linger. His smiles are just friendly, nothing hidden behind them.

Justin finally realizes then what it's like to be brokenhearted.


He knows absolutely nothing about motorcycles. Doesn't know how to turn one on or use the break.

And he knows now not to ever ask Justin a question about his motorcycle. Not unless he wants a twenty minute description of shifting. The best gasoline to use. How the engine works.

That's why he says nothing when Justin comes home with a new helmet. Yes, he already has a few. No, JC doesn't want to know how this one is different and Justin can actually feel the ventilation in this one.

He says nothing when Justin talks about trying it out. Taking the bike for a spin around the neighborhood.

Justin talks about it all through dinner, exclaiming about the helmet's design and the graphics he had made custom. JC just smiles, nods every once in a while. He knows nothing about motorcycles and even less about helmets.

He makes supportive noises, doesn't want Justin to give him that look. The one that says JC doesn't care about whatever he is talking about.

He cares, he just doesn't understand.

Justin has been silent for a while. Even when they aren't in the same room, JC can usually hear him. Singing at the top of his lungs or yelling at the television. The silence is a little unsettling.

"Want to go for a ride?" JC nearly jumps out of his skin. He's not sure how Justin snuck up behind him, but there he is. Hands slipping into JC's front pockets. Tongue sneaking out to lick the shell of JC's ear. "Come for a ride with me."

Without waiting for an answer, Justin is gone. The garage, JC knows. He doesn't hesitate to follow. He may not know much about motorcycles, but he loves them.

He loves wrapping his arms around Justin's waist. The feel of the hard body pressed against his and the powerful machine below him.

For JC, motorcycles and Justin go hand-in-hand. He may not know motorcycles, but he knows Justin.

Sometimes that is enough.

It does get better

They fight sometimes. Harsh words hurled across the living room or through the phone. Nasty things neither of them mean.

Justin always feels bad afterwards. As soon as he hangs up the phone, he's filled with guilt. He shouldn't have said that. Should have been nicer. It doesn't help to call back. JC won't answer, lets the calls go to voicemail, even when Justin blocks the number.

He hates to just wait it out. Sit around for hours while JC goes over and over the things he said. Things that he doesn't really mean.

But it doesn't matter what Justin wants. What he wants goes out the window as soon as they start yelling.

As soon as JC hangs up, Justin knows he's in deep shit. Knows that he'll be waiting for hours for JC to call. For JC to accept his apology.

He does it so that Justin can think about what he said. Figure out if he's the one Justin really wants. That's what he said once, when he finally accepted Justin's call after one of their marathon fights.

"I do this for you, Justin. For you to think." Voice plain, JC had sounded older and much more mature. But Justin knew what he wanted then. He still does.

Even though they fight and they don't always get a long, Justin doesn't want any one else. Ever.

There are little things. Things JC does that get on his nerve. How he never spends any money, even when he should. And how he won't wear the same underwear twice, even if they get washed. But it's not the end of the world. Nothing Justin can't handle.

Justin hates it, though, when JC doesn't answer any of his calls. When he ignores him on purpose. It used to make Justin even more mad. Mad enough to throw things and curse up a storm.

Now Justin just waits, sits on his hands and worries. Sometimes he thinks that JC will call it all off. That he'll think it's not worth it, to fight like this. That one day JC will call him back and calmly tell him all the reasons they shouldn't be together.

But it doesn't happen. They never go to bed angry, JC always calls before Justin goes to bed. And they talk, resolve all the current issues.

When JC finally calls, accepts his apology, and offers one of his own, Justin's heart lifts. Finally starts to beat regularly again.

It doesn't happen a lot, their fights. Justin always swears it will never happen again, he won't say something like that again. JC just laughs him off, jokingly replies, "The make-up sex is worth it, J."

i am a leaf on the wind

He thinks about JC all the time. When he's in a meeting or recording a song. When he's out on the red carpet or doing a photoshoot. In the middle of interviews and concerts.

It's worse when he's alone. When he's on the other side of the world and JC's at home. That's when he calls the most, just to hear his voice.

"Hey, babe." Justin is tired, ready for bed. Voice low and gravelly, he just wants JC to talk to him, about anything.

"Justin." JC makes a pleased little sound and Justin can hear the smile in his voice even though they have already talked today. "How was the show?"

"Fine." Dismissing the question with a wave of his hand, Justin moves on quickly. "What'd you do today?"

JC laughs, sweet little giggle that makes Justin's heart flutter. JC knows him too well, knows that he doesn't really care about the specifics, that he only wants to hear his voice.

JC talks about everything. The movie he saw and the coffee he drank afterwards. The people he met and the songs he heard. The calls he made and the beats he laid down. Justin listens to every word.

"Talk, J. What's going on?" He could talk for days, they both know. But he winds down after almost an hour and not one word from Justin.

"I just like to hear you. Pretend you're with me."

"Oh, baby." JC's voice is sympathetic, his words soft.

There aren't many words after that.

They've gotten to the point where conversations don't need words, the silence isn't uncomfortable and Justin can hear all the words JC means to say.

The silence is enough for now, but sometimes it's not.

Visits as often as possible and phone calls twice a day aren't enough any more. After so long, Justin's getting tired of not seeing JC when he wants, whenever he wants.

He counts down the days to each visit. Thirteen days until Roseland. Another month until he can be in Los Angeles for a longer period of time.

Who knows how long until they can be together whenever they want. But until then, Justin makes the calls, schedules the visits, does whatever he can to hear his voice and see him again

all because i lose myself in you

"You're too talented for your own brain." Justin's words aren't harsh. They're more matter-of-fact.

JC doesn't take offense, even though he feels a slight sting.

He knows that he can get caught up sometimes. Focus too much on one thing. And when that focus passes, find something else to obsess over.

He always thought it was an advantage, that he could concentrate solely on one thing while the rest of the guys were all over the place. But lately he's realized that it isn't always a plus.

Especially when he's in a relationship, falling head over heels for someone he doesn't really know. Only to forget about them two weeks later when someone new shows up.

He knows that when he focuses so hard on something, all the other stuff around him suffers.

That's why it's so nice to have Justin in the studio with him. Almost like before. Justin can pull him away from the board when he's getting too obsessed. He can force him to take a break when everything gets too intense.

Justin keeps him off-balance, never lets him get too set in any one thing. It's been a week and JC is enjoying having Justin with him in the studio.

Except that the only thing JC finds himself obsessing over now is Justin.

When he shows up with coffee in the morning, JC notices that Justin gets him exactly what he likes. When they order in for lunch, Justin remembers that he doesn't like lettuce, but alfalfa sprouts on his sandwich.

It's little things. Little things that remind JC of their history. He's known this man for over half his life.

There's been so many women passing through both of their lives. Justin is his constant. Justin doesn't let him get too lost inside his own head. Justin shows him how to live in the real world.

Having Justin with him in the studio makes JC think about all the things he's done over the past four years. Makes him think about the things he should have done when he had the chance.

He's finally done obsessing over things, people. He can't afford to fall in love with Justin and forget about him.

If he's going to fall in love, it'll be for real.

phone service

written with drabble_queen

Justin really isn't the mood. It's been a long day and he's just not in the mood.

"Justin." The singsong tone in JC's voice makes him laugh, even though he wants so badly not to do this tonight. He groans, but JC doesn't take the hint. "What are you wearing, Justin?"

"I'm really not in the mood, C." Justin hears his sighs, the rustling of the sheet.

Inexplicably, he knows that the only thing JC is wearing is that sheet. Despite his tiredness and complete unwillingness, Justin feels himself begin to harden.

"Justin." There is no joking in JC's voice now. His voice is low, deeper than normal. Justin's response is completely involuntary, a small gasp. He knows that tone.

"Are you touching yourself, J?" As soon as the words leave his mouth, Justin's hand is making its way down his abdomen, beneath the sheet, and into his boxers.

Palming himself lightly, Justin listens to JC's moans. He closes his eyes and can almost see him, see the arch of JC's back and his hand moving quickly. He sees it all, the twitching of his muscles and those blue eyes clenched shut.

"Yeah." So maybe, just maybe he's in the mood.

He matches his strokes to the rhythm of JC's little moans, his gasps. Soon Justin is matching each of JC's sounds with moans of his own.

"What are you wearing, J?" He can hear the satisfied smile in JC's voice, knows how happy he is that Justin gave in.

Stroking himself, Justin can almost imagine that it's JC. That he isn't in some bedroom around the world, but right there, right next to him.

"Boxers. Oh. Boxers and a beater." JC loves him in beaters, loves to slips his hands under them slowly as he sits atop him and grinds down.

"Justin. Baby, I want." Justin's legs spread and he sees JC right there, crouching between them, the impish smile he always gets when he's planning something naughty. "I want to lick you, J. Base to tip."

Justin groans, arches just a little more, feels the light touch of JC's tongue at his head.

"You want to taste me? Baby?" Somehow he manages to say it, though Justin isn't sure how. He can't stop himself from thrashing a little, stretching for JC's touch. "Want me in your mouth?"

He runs his fingers around the wet tip. Hears JC's gasp pick up speed, knows how close he is.

"J. Please, baby." He's begging, begging Justin to do something. JC's so close and Justin can feel him on the edge.

"You've got me, baby. Inside, so warm and wet." Justin licks his palm from wrist to finger, gets a tight hold.

"Mmm, in me." JC murmurs, voice strained. "Pulling my hair?"

Justin arches, doesn't know which of them loves it more. Running his fingers through the soft hair, giving a little pull.

"Yea, baby. Just a little. A little harder." And thats all it takes. Justin's coming apart, JC's name on his lips. On the other line, JC's soft moans turn louder, more intense as he comes. They ride it out together, sighs and groans as they come down.

"Thanks, J." His voice is hoarse, a little weak. The sound makes Justin smile.

settle down

"Well, in my opinion the best singer out of all of us was JC, always." It's true. Even as he says it, Justin knows that it's the truth.

He also knows that he's going to get ragged on, hard. He's not wrong there either.

Chris calls first. About ten minutes after Justin gets out of the shower his phone is ringing. Chris jokes and makes fun of him, but Justin doesn't give him the satisfaction, doesn't react to any of it.

Lance doesn't call for another couple hours, just as Justin sits down for lunch. They talk about everything, the People article and Justin's new single. They make plans for Lance to go to one of his shows. But he never brings up Justin's recent mentionings of JC.

When Joey calls, it's late afternoon. Justin can hear Briahna screaming in the background and Kelly trying to shush her. Their conversation is brief, but Justin gets the message loud and clear: "Don't fuck with my boy."

He's not nervous, but when it hits eleven and JC still hasn't called, Justin starts to worry.

It's not long after that the phone finally rings. Without checking the id, Justin knows it's the call he's been waiting for.

"You couldn't have given me a little warning?" His voice is incredulous and Justin wants to laugh.

"Hi, C. I'm really good, thanks for asking. How are you doing?" He knows he shouldn't mess with him, not when he's in this state. It's just so hard to resist.

"Chris has called me eight times today, Justin. Eight. And every time he makes some crack and hangs up." He takes a big breath and Justin knows, just knows, that he's getting ready for a full-on tantrum. "Joey has called three times. Lance must be busy, otherwise I'm sure he would have called more than just the one time."

As he takes another breath, Justin jumps in.

"Are you mad because I told to truth or because our friends are douchebags?" The question sets JC back and Justin can practically hear him thinking.

"I'm mad because you could have told me, J." He seems deflated a bit. "So when Chris called talking about assbabies, I would have had a clue about what the hell was going on."

Justin doesn't want to know, really doesn't.

"Joey told me if I touched you, he'd kick my ass." Justin really hadn't listened to anything Chris had said, but Joey's words were practically ingrained in his brain.

"He didn't say that."

"He totally did. Is that why I never got to share a bedroom with you in Europe?" JC coughs, chokes a little.


"Yea, C. Since Europe."

"You're not kidding, are you?"

"No. Not this time."

"Ok." That's it? Justin rolls his eyes. "I can't find my key."

"Sorry. Look harder." Justin is a little lost.

"Or you could come open the door for me." Oh. Yea, he could do that.

can't get you off my mind

Justin's only goals for the night are to have sex and to have sex with JC. It doesn't matter which order those two things occur, as long as they do in fact occur. He isn't picky.

He's seventeen. He knows how all the parts work and how to use them effectively. He's just not sure if he can make JC understand that. He isn't a kid, not anymore.

Justin loves to drink. Loves the thrill of it. He's not old enough, not even close. But the guys sneak him some when they go out. And tonight they're playing Raid the Minibar. So far Lance is definitely winning. But even at nineteen, Lance can drink them all under the table.

"Never half I eva." Chris is slurring already and it's only eleven. Justin isn't even sure what he's said until Joey clarifies loudly.

"You are drunk as shit, Christopher. We are not playing Never Have I Ever." His voice has it's usual boisterous quality and he's not slurring at all. Joey obviously hasn't had much to drink, Justin thinks.

JC just giggles, holds up one of the mini vodka bottles high in the air. He looks like he's toasting to something.

Lance rolls his eyes, smirks at Justin.

"I think we should, Joe. Could be fun." That normal deep drawl and Justin knows Lance could drink the whole minibar and still walk straight.

Joey doesn't look so sure, but with all of them in favor he reluctantly agrees. Justin knows there would be no hesitation if he weren't present.

"Never half I eva tied a grill up. Girl." Chris tips his little bottle in the direction of JC, his hand wavering only slightly. JC nods, smiles a bit, and takes a small drink from the vodka bottle. Joey also takes a drink, though only Lance notices.

Justin catches the wink Lance sends Joey. He files that thought away for later.

"Never have I ever made out with Peter Pan." Joey laughs, takes a drink. Lance's smile is small as he looks at Justin. "Your turn, baby."

Justin scowls. He hates being called that.

"Never have I ever had sex in a car." Apparently he is the only one. As the blush rises, JC leans close to him, lips to his ear.

"It's okay, baby. Gotta start somewhere." Justin licks his lips, watches as JC's eyes glaze over. Maybe he can do this. He leans a little closer.

"Never have I ever made out with a boy." Joey's words are loud, designed to scare the crap out of Justin. And deter him from his plan.

They all take a drink, even Justin. JC sends him a dark look.

"Never half I eva had sex with a boy." Chris looks at each of them, waits to see who will drink. Joey, Lance, and JC finish off their bottles on that one and Joey is off on an expedition for more.

Before JC can stand, Justin's hand is on his thigh. Then Justin's lips are on his. JC can only react.

The slick slide of their tongues is all Justin hears and he knows that both of his goals will be fulfilled tonight.

come on bring it

Justin's been doing his thing. Releasing records, doing movies. Taking pictures and showing up at premieres, he has been everywhere lately.

It wasn't on purpose, the gradual withdrawal from the familiar. The leaving behind of his old life.

Friends would call, Chris or Joey, but he would be in an interview or at some party. He meant to call them back, made a mental note. It never happened. Justin had never gone months without speaking to one of them.

But it had begun happening more and more often until he never spoke to them.

He hasn't talked to Lance in two years. Hasn't seen Joey in three. Chris calls every once in a while, leaves messages he never returns. It has been five years since he'd talked to JC.

JC is the one he misses the most.

But Justin can't force himself to pick up the phone, make the call. So much has changed in those five years, he doesn't think they could go back.

The choice is taken away from him one Saturday morning in February. Standing in line at Starbucks is the one person he's avoided for far too long.

He's avoided everything familiar for so long, striking out on his own. Without thinking about it, he's withdrawn from his old life, completely ignoring his true friends, letting nothing touch him.

Finally, he's feeling the loss.

Heart beating wildly, Justin ignores the interviews and photoshoots his assistant is reeling off. Watching JC smile, shake his head, Justin feels the isolation profoundly.

He has left so many friends behind and ignored the few true ones he had.

As JC leaves, there is no recognition, no smile or nod of the head. For the first time, Justin's heart truly breaks.

One day this will make you proud

"Madison! Get down." Justin is trying to do three things at once. Talk on the phone, make lunch, and watch his daughter.

Leaving the half-made sandwiches, he pulls the one year old from her precarious perch on the edge of the chair. Below her is all tile and he can already hear her screams when she falls. On the other end of the phone

JC laughs.

"I'll be home in a couple hours, babe. Can you manage?" Justin scowls and goes back to lunch, keeping an eye on the blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl toddling around the kitchen unsteadily.

"We'll be fine."

She has JC's eyes, the same fine blond hair Justin had when he was a baby. She is a wonderful mix of the two and Justin's heart swells every time he looks at her, hears her sweet laugh. He never thought a woman could make him feel this way again.

"Da?" Arms up, she tugs on his pants with grubby little fingers. Justin sticks his tongue out at her, makes a face. Her high-pitched giggle is music to his ears.

Unsatisfied, she pulls harder, babbling incoherently.

"I'm making food, little one. You hungry?" She just sticks her tongue out, plops down on the floor. Justin can see a tantrum coming from three miles away and before she can start, he sweeps her up.

Dancing a little, Justin moves towards the table. Strapping her into her highchair is always an ordeal, but he distracts her with a sippy cup and a cookie.

Despite lunch being a sandwich and apples, Madison is a mess afterwards. Laughing, Justin struggles to clean her face and hands. Her little hands try to fend him off as she yawns.

"Someone tired?" The little girl just nods, rests her head against his shoulder. "Nap time."

Justin could go for a nap himself. It's been an exhausting day, chasing Madison through the house.

Turning on the television, Justin settles himself on the couch, Madison lying on his chest.

When JC gets home, he's tired to the bone. Producers and labels, he's tired of dealing with them all. The silence that greets him, however, is startling. Neither Justin or Madison ever seem to be quiet.

In the living room JC finds them fast asleep, Madison tucked under Justin's chin, thumb in her mouth. Justin's eyes flutter a bit as he watches them.

"Hey." His voice is gravelly with sleep and his eyes still half-closed. JC smiles, leans down to press a kiss to his forehead.


this place is a well-oiled machine

written with drabble_queen

It's been a bad day. Started out bad and hasn't gotten any better.

First, Justin woke up late. Hit snooze a few too many times and missed the train. Then he walked into about ten fires that needed to be put out. And he, apparently, was the only person who could handle it.

It's only twelve and already his suit is wrinkled and his head pounding.

Justin wants a break. Not a full lunch because he's still working on a deadline, but coffee at least. Luckily, there's a small cafe in the lobby of the building.

In the elevator, Justin finally lets himself relax. Deep breaths as he leans against the side of the car.

The cafe isn't too packed. The tables are half full and there's a small line. As Justin stands in line, the table in the corner catches his eye.

He is a beautiful man. All chocolate brown curls and bright blue eyes. Justin's seen him before. Once or twice in the elevator.

He's always wanted to talk to him, find out his name. He checks his watch, sees he has a little extra time. That's all it takes.

"Is this chair taken?" Confused blue eyes meet his and Justin can see the different specks of color. He really is beautiful. He nods and tries to clear a space for Justin.

"Justin Timberlake." When he's comfortable, Justin reaches out a hand.

"JC Chasez." His hand is warm, soft. "Rough day?"

"Like you wouldn't believe."

But maybe his day is starting to look up.

i won't stop holding on

written with drabble_queen

Justin loves the bus. Loves long trips across the country, rocking to sleep in his bunk. Loves marathon video game tournaments. Loves the closeness and the confined space.

He loves running into JC in the kitchen and again in the lounge. Loves falling asleep on the couch, JC's hands smoothing through his curls.

Justin loves JC. Loves him in the morning and in the afternoon. Loves him every night before he goes to sleep and even when he dreams.

"Babe? Do you want some tea, JC?" Justin has never hated someone the way he hates her. Bobbie. She invades the bus, makes the small space feel incredibly smaller. She's everywhere at once and Justin just wants her gone.

When she's there, JC doesn't talk much, isn't the same. He doesn't touch Justin at all, stays attached to her side at all times.

It's not the touching Justin misses. It's the talking. About anything, everything. It's the constant singing or humming. Any song. He misses the real JC.

Relaxing into the couch with his bowl of cereal, Justin watches them. The way JC takes the offered cup without touching her. The way JC's eyes are devoid of any emotion.

Justin wants to make it better, but he doesn't know how. He doesn't know how to smooth the wrinkles on JC's forehead that appear only when she is present. He doesn't know how to show JC that there is something, someone, better.

filled with laughter and good cheer

JC hates Christmas. Especially in New York. All his family in Chicago. All his friends in Los Angeles. He hates having to work for Christmas, in New York of all places.

JC hates the packed subways and the people in too much of a hurry to be nice. Mostly he hates the dirty snow and rude clerks.

Switching his bags to the other hand, JC sighs. He is usually incredibly patient. But Christmas shopping this year will be the death of him, he's sure of it.

Without warning, a solid body slams into JC and he finds himself on his ass in the middle of Macy's.

"Oh! I'm so sorry." Immediately the young man begins to gather the fallen packages. JC is too shaken to react as quickly. The clear blue eyes, however, bring him back to earth. "Are you alright?"

"Yea. I'm fine." He pulls himself from the ground without assistance. As blue eyes hands him the bags, his smile is sheepish.

"You sure? Maybe some coffee?" His smile is sweet and JC can't make himself say no.

"Okay." The smile grows and JC feels himself smile back. Maybe Christmas in New York isn't so bad after all.

i still won't remember

"You think your family is fucked up?" Justin's voice is unbelieving and the look on his face doubtful. "Your mom is like 'Leave it to Beaver.'"

Josh shakes his head. No, his family isn't messed up like Justin's. But they aren't perfect, certainly not a sixties sitcom.

"No, they aren't. That's how my mom is with guests." Besides, who would want a stranger to see them screaming at their kids or throwing things at their husband?

"Whatever." Justin sits on the edge of the bed, looks around the room. Posters with half-naked chicks and cars. Trophies of what looks like football and soccer. His room at home looks nothing like this. Josh watches him look around, take in all the normal kid stuff.

Every time Josh walks into his room, it feels like entering a time machine. His mom hasn't touched the room since he left the first time, hoping that if it stays the same her baby will come back the exact same. He's told her countless times that it doesn't work that way.

"Not perfect, huh?" Fingers tangled in the sheets, Justin is starting to look a little annoyed.

"It's just a cover. For all the stupid shit that really goes on." He knows that he can tell him forever that his family isn't perfect. He'll never get it. His family isn't fucked up like Justin's. His family pretends that everything is perfect, letting the bad ride just under the surface of everything.

"Sure. Because I'm sure your dad comes home at three in the morning, completely trashed. Wakes up the whole damn house and starts beating you and your brothers." There's anger in his voice, threaded through his body.

"See this?" Josh lifts his shirt. Along his hip is an inch-long scar. "My dad pushed me into a counter when I was fifteen. Want to know why?"

Justin's eyes are curious with only a lingering bit of hardness. He reaches out, runs a finger along the white scar, still evident six years after. He nods, just a little, but Josh sees it.

"I fumbled a pass. The other team didn't score. Didn't even get another first down the entire game. But I had to learn, couldn't let my team down again." His voice doesn't waver. He's never told anyone before. Not even his brother. Not even his mom. They wouldn't understand.

Justin pulls him forward, hands on his hips. Josh watches him lick his lips once, twice and then they're on him. Kissing softly over the scar, Justin is gentle, all trace of anger gone.

we are compelled to do what we must do

He’s knocked twice now. Once softly and then again a little harder. The hotel is quiet, but he’s pretty sure JC is still awake.

It's been over for a while now. The concert. The after-party. But Justin can't sit still. Can't just lay down and go to sleep.

He’d paced back and forth through his room for a good half hour before the walls started getting closer and closer. His room was closing in on him and he couldn't take it for another minute.

He needs his best friend, no matter what time it is.

"Justin? What are you doing?" He is awake, but his hair is a mess and his eyes are only half-open.

It feels like a trick question. Justin isn't sure what he's doing.

"Are you sleeping?" JC gives him a look, one that says he knows Justin is changing the subject. But he shakes his head and opens the door a little bit more so Justin can squeeze through.

Instead of sitting somewhere, Justin starts pacing again. He can feel JC's eyes on him, watching him walk back and forth. He still can't make himself stop. He's got this itch underneath his skin. He just doesn’t know how to scratch it.

"Justin. Sit, please.” JC is perched on the edge of the bed, eyes beginning to look a little more clear.

Justin does. Forces himself to sit next to JC. Not too close because Justin is hyper-aware of the sheets pulled back and the long expanse of bed behind them. He can also feel the warmth JC’s body is throwing off.

“It’s over, C.” He watches those blue eyes narrow and the brows furrow together.

“It’s just a hiatus, J.” Before JC can move away, Justin’s hand is on his thigh, stilling him.

“It’s not. You know its not.” Voice quiet, Justin feels JC lean closer.

"No, Justin. It's not over." JC's voice is just as quiet, breath more than actual sound.

Justin closes the space between them, pressing his lips against JC’s. Doesn’t have to wait long before JC responds. He finally feels the itch disappear.

in love or a fight

Its seems that nothing stops anymore. Want to take a quick break? Take a nap? Sure, as long as it's scheduled a week in advance.

You know this is what you wanted. To be famous. To be loved, adored. To be able to sing and make music. This is what it's all about.

You just hadn't known it would come at such a high price. To have girls screaming your name and writing "Mrs. Justin Timberlake" on their notebooks. But never having the time to stop and enjoy it; to get to know people for more than a night.

He doesn't look surprised when you show up at his hotel room after the show. JC doesn't seem surprised by anything anymore. That's just the way this life is, you know. But it's still sad. Not to see the wonder in his eyes, or in your own when you look in the mirror.

"Hey, J. What's up?" He leaves the door open and you follow him inside. For someone normally so clean, the chaos in his room startles you a bit.

"Nothing. Just bored. What the hell happened here?" You watch him look around as if it's the first time he's seeing the mess, too. Something is definitely up.

"Oh." He makes a little humming noise but doesn't move to pick anything up. "Just looking for something."

"Did you find it?" He shakes his head looking a little distracted.

"Did you want something, Justin?" You're not sure what the answer should be, but yes, you do want something. You want it to be like it used to be, but you can't tell him that. You can't tell him that it's all moving too fast for you. You used to be able to tell him everything.

"Just to see what you were doing."

"I think Joey said he was going out." You don't want to go out, but you know a dismissal when you hear one.

"Okay, I guess I'll see you later. Night, C." Back in his little world, JC throws a small wave in your direction as you shut the door. You certainly hadn't realized that fame would cost you one of your best friends.

do you feel like a man

Justin is exhausted. Shows in Europe. Promoting the single. He just wants to sleep for two weeks. The single will still be out then. He can promote it then.

That's why when the phone rings after two in the morning, he isn't particulary pleasant. Without looking at the caller id, he flips it open.


"That bad, baby?" All the anger and tension drains out of him at the sound of his voice.

"Josh. I'm so tired." He knows he sounds like a baby. Not like his twenty-five years. Not like he's been an adult for the past thirteen years.

"But it will all be worth it, J. You know it will. Look at Justified." His voice is soothing and Justin is already sinking back into bed.

"Not if I can't see you." He's whining, he knows. But he's been tired for what feels like forever. And he knows JC doesn't mind. He hears JC humming, knows its one of their own songs, but he isn't in the mood. "Josh."

"Do you want me to come over?" It's almost three and he really just wants to sleep, but they're so close. Actually in the same town for a night.

"Please." His eyes are already closing, but JC has a key and he knows his way around.

"I'll be there in a few minutes, baby." He doesn't let anyone else call him that, not even his mom. Just JC.

"I love you."

"Love you too, Jus. Go to sleep." JC finds Justin sprawled in bed, phone lying on the floor. Kissing his forehead, JC slips into bed, wrapping himself around the sleeping body next to him.


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