nsync in black and white

Disclaimer: this is fiction. We made it up.

inside out

by megan, written for donna

The knock on the door was sharp, interrupting Britney’s concentration as she ran through her routine again. She finished the arm work and pirouetted toward the door, eyes widening when she saw JC through the peephole. His eyes were dark, and his left cheek bore the red imprint of a palm. Britney flung the door open, pointing JC to the nearest chair. “Jesus, Jayce, what happened?”

JC’s lips tightened. “Bobbie,” he spat, grimacing when Britney reached out.

“Ouch,” she said softly, tracing the red area lightly with her fingertips. “I’m sorry.” She pressed a kiss to his uninjured cheek, feather light. “Let’s get some ice for that. J’s not here, he had that thing,” she noted.

“Interview, I know. He should be back soon, though.”

Britney pressed her lips into a thin line and set about getting some ice. She’d already shared her opinion of Bobbie and JC’s relationship – on numerous occasions – and didn’t want to start a fight with JC. It hurt her to see such a good guy with someone who treated him that way, but it really wasn’t her business.

After making an ice pack for him, Britney settled on JC’s lap, tipping her head onto his shoulder and sliding her arms around his waist, providing what comfort she could while they waited. JC’s arm slid easily around her waist, and he gave her a squeeze, sighing as he tilted his head back and let the ice pack do its work. Britney sighed too, shivering and snuggling in closer as JC’s fingertips teased at the gap of skin between her jeans and her shirt.

She woke with a startle when Justin dropped his bag inside the door. “I’m ba-ack,” he announced with false cheer, eyes narrowing as he looked the two of them. For a moment, Britney almost thought he was angrier with her for being curled around JC, but his focus was on his bandmate as he stepped forward purposefully.

“Hey, J,” JC greeted, trying a half smile as he lifted the ice pack off of his cheek. “How’d the interview go?”

Justin stopped in his tracks, looking at the two of them again. Britney could see him reassessing the situation. “Bobbie,” she said, making a face. “I figure he can stay here for a while, don’t you?”

“Fucking bitch.” Justin walked closer, inspecting the damage. “You dump her yet?”


“It’s not that simple,” JC denied. “I’m not a battered wife, Justin, calm down.”

“She fucking hit you!”

“And she won’t do it again.” JC replied evenly, arm tightening reflexively around Britney’s waist.

“J, it’s okay,” Britney interjected. “I mean, it’s not, but he’ll just. He can stay here tonight, with us. We have room.”

Justin bit his lip, nodding shortly. “Right.”

Britney pulled herself off JC’s lap, his hands low on her waist as he helped her up. She reached up on her tiptoes, hand sliding to Justin’s nape as she pulled him in for a kiss, gratified when some of the tension went out of his shoulders. “It’s okay,” she murmured, sliding her other hand down over JC’s where it lay on her waist.

She pushed Justin back toward the bed, tugging JC along behind. Her only intention had been to get them to relax, maybe watch a movie together, but as Justin’s eyes darkened and JC’s grip tightened, she realized that they’d been thinking of something else. Suddenly, Britney found it hard to breathe. It had happened only once before, some time earlier, and they’d never spoken about it again. The memory of it made her eyes widen and a sudden thread of arousal flow through her veins.

They stopped at the edge of the bed, Justin leaning down to kiss Britney again, and she sighed in pleasure when she felt JC sweep her hair aside, pressing a kiss to the nape of her neck that made her shiver.

“Okay?” Justin checked, but when she raised her eyes, Justin wasn’t looking at her.

“Yeah,” she agreed, stealing another kiss.

“Yes,” JC whispered, nipping at her earlobe. His hands met Justin’s at the small of her back, sliding under her shirt and up over skin as they took it off.

JC unhooked her bra, discarding it on a nearby chair. He cupped her breasts, manipulating her nipples with a gentle, experienced touch as Justin unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans, taking her panties down with them as his large hands slid gently over the skin he exposed.

Britney pulled Justin in, kissing him thoroughly as she tugged at his shirt. She crawled onto the bed and turned toward them, only to see JC’s hands reaching for Justin’s fly. Soon they were joining her on the bed, JC’s arousal pressing against her ass as he began teasing at her nipples again, kissing her neck and shoulders as Justin ran his hands down her sides and along her inner thighs, making her quiver.

Their hands on her were gentle, touching and teasing and prodding until she was moving continuously between them, her breathy moan joining JC’s fuller one as he slid in deep and began to thrust. Then Justin’s hand was in her hair, guiding her mouth to his erection, and she closed her eyes, giving herself over to the slap and slide of skin and the spiral of pleasure.

Britney woke in the middle of the night, naked and cold despite the presence of two other bodies in the bed. She opened her mouth to make a pouting demand for warmth, but the request died on her lips as she watched the two of them, eyes wide in the dark.

Justin was whispering in JC’s ear, his hand tracing the red mark on JC’s cheek just as she had done when JC had arrived in their room. JC shook his head, laughing softly and silencing Justin with a deep, slow, kiss, pulling a moan from him that Britney had never heard before.

They shifted sinuously, sheets rustling softly as JC rolled on top of Justin, pinning his wrists to the bed and looking down at him with unguarded tenderness, smile soft as he began kissing a path down Justin’s torso.

Britney brought a hand up to her mouth, teeth sinking into the soft skin of her palm as she continued to watch, unwilling and unable to turn away.

Justin slammed his head back into the pillow when JC’s mouth closed around him, liquid hips lined with silver moonlight as he thrust into JC’s mouth, unable to stop another moan of pleasure. “Jesus, Jayce,” he swore, and it sounded almost like a prayer.

JC was teasing, Britney noted, watching the flex of Justin’s muscles as he arched and twisted. Justin was strung tight, shivering with need, and he jumped when JC pushed the first finger in deep, crying out again.

She had never made him need like that.

JC pulled off, continuing to tease Justin with just his fingers, and ran his other hand over the planes of Justin’s stomach. He was trying to soothe Justin with the touch, but it only served to make Justin more desperate, and Justin sounded as if he were about to cry when JC pulled his fingers out, wiping them on the sheets.

“Shh,” JC whispered, sliding his hands over Justin’s sides to gentle him. He rolled a condom on and positioned himself, kissing Justin again as he pressed in.

They were gorgeous, slender, muscled bodies working together intricately. The air filled with hushed curses and cries, and Britney squirmed, eyes riveted on their silver-lined forms.

When they’d come, JC collapsed against Justin, tucking his face into Justin’s neck as he regained his breath. After several moments, he pulled away, catching Justin’s hand and kissing the back of it when Justin tried to keep him from leaving the bed. “C’mon, J,” he prodded gently.

Britney squeezed her eyes shut tight, swallowing the lump in her throat as they walked past her to the bathroom. She heard running water, and then the bed dipped and Justin slung an arm over her waist, tugging her toward him. The door opened again a few moments later, and JC settled in on her other side. He slung an arm over her waist, too, and Britney opened her eyes enough to see their fingers twined together, resting on her side.


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