nsync in black and white

Disclaimer: this is fiction. We made it up.

Keep the Same Appointments I Kept

by Zaen, written for phaballa
Now I'm not looking for absolution
Forgiveness for the things I do
But before you come to any conclusions
Try walking in my shoes

“Walking in My Shoes” – Depeche Mode

All JC wanted was unconsciousness.

The day before, he’d had a meeting with the execs at Jive. He thought it was discuss the release date for his new album. They’d already pushed it back several times, so he figured they must have finally settled on his upcoming 31st birthday as the release date. When they told him their news, JC swallowed and calmly asked, “When exactly would ‘indefinitely’ be?”

He realized the next night, as he and his friends drank into a silly stupor, that at this rate, he may not even have a recording contract by his birthday.

It was supposed to be a nice, quiet day.

The day before, Justin had had a show in Paris, and then decided to spend an extra day to put in a little shopping and low-key, undercover sightseeing. The new record label was coming along nicely, and he was even enjoying reading over some scripts that Jessica had brought along on the trip. When she came up behind him on the balcony of their hotel, wrapped her arms around his waist and growled, “There’s no one around for miles, baby,” Justin smiled, looked around, and happily let her slide her hand down into his shorts.

He realized the next day, when his people presented him with photos of Jessica Biel slapping his white exposed ass, that there was no such thing as a nice, quiet day for him.


JC leaned against the wall in a dark corner and waited, his foot tapping nervously as he watched Eric whispering in a strange guy’s ear across the room. The club was loud and smoky and dark, but JC could still make out the planes of the stranger’s body, the gleam of his perfect smile, and the sapphire blue of his eyes. Once Eric finished whispering, the stranger looked up and saw JC, and then smiled and immediately started coming his way.

“Easy,” JC mumbled to himself as the sexy young man with blue eyes and a dancer’s body approached him. JC stood up tall and nodded at the young man, then at Eric, who nodded at JC and stated, “This is Greg.”

JC leaned closer and extended his hand. “Hey, Greg. You’re a great dancer.”

The guy with the sparkling blue eyes shook JC’s hand, looked him up and down, and growled, “I hear you’d like to meet me. Feeling’s mutual.”

“Oh, yeah?” JC purred, confidence nearly allowing him to be so bold as to lick his lips.

“Yeah,” the guy growled. He leaned into JC, who started to shiver in anticipation. JC looked at Eric, ready to give the thumbs up, and then the hot sexy guy whispered in JC’s ear, “Soooo…do you think you could introduce me to Justin? I’d be great in one of his videos, don’t cha think?”

JC shrugged and mumbled something about getting a drink. He walked away and scanned the club for the first girl he could find who’d fuck him so hard that he’d forget the entire incident—and that it wasn’t the first time.

Back home Justin rarely listened to commercial radio, but overseas was a completely different thing. There were artists Americans knew nothing about to hear, as well as stuff by well known people that their record companies thought was “too cool” for American ears.

He’d never really thought JC was too cool for anyone, until he was riding along in a chauffeured Mercedes, holding bags of shopping he’d done in between work and clubbing, and heard the radio DJ introduce a JC song as, “Much more innovative and avant-garde than anything any of his contemporaries could ever imagine.” When it started playing, Justin realized he didn’t even know the song. JC hadn’t played it for him months ago when he was ready—the nth time—to release the album. The song probably wasn’t even slated for the domestic release of the CD, Justin thought to himself as he resisted tapping his foot to the beat. The security guy that Jive assigned him for his short stay started bobbing his head. Justin gave a fake smile, and the guy playfully nudged Justin.

“Don’t worry,” the guy said with a European accent Justin didn’t recognize. “You’re still more…popular.”

“Yeah,” Justin replied flatly. He looked out the window and made a mental note to switch security guards.


After an exhausting day of doing promotions and dodging questions about his work and life that he wasn’t prepared to answer, JC climbed into his bed and fell asleep, wishing that he wasn’t wishing that his life was more like Justin’s.

After a grueling evening playing the last night of his European tour, dodging paparazzi, flipping hecklers the bird, and dodging Jessica’s continued questions about when she would get keys to his house, Justin collapsed on his hotel bed and fell asleep, wondering what it would be like to be in JC’s shoes.


JC couldn’t understand why he was awake. It was only light blue outside, and he always depended on the sun shining in his face to wake him up. He closed his eyes again and tried to roll over, but something was in his way. He nudged what he thought was his pillow with his knee, but the pillow didn’t budge. When JC nudged again, this time the pillow nudged back. Hard.

“What?” JC whispered to himself. He yawned and rolled the other way, expecting to stretch out on the other side of his California king size bed, but instead he rolled off and landed with a thud on the floor. “Shit!” he groaned as he got to his knees, “what the hell is going…on…here.” JC held his breath and blinked several times. He wasn’t in his bedroom at all, but in what looked like a swank hotel room. He wasn’t naked the way he always slept, but in a t-shirt and cut off sweats. The sound of his voice at his exclamation lacked its usual clarity, but instead revealed an unusual early-morning rasp. And the pillow that had hit him back wasn’t a pillow at all, but, by the looks of her sleeping face, it was Jessica Biel.

JC’s throat went dry as he racked his brain to remember the previous night, but he could come up with nothing. What amount of alcohol could he have consumed to make him black out completely and sleep with Justin’s girlfriend? It had to have been a lot, he thought as he went to cradle his head, waiting for the hangover to catch up to him now that he was fully awake. But it didn’t come; he felt fine. In fact, he felt great. Well rested, which was unusual for so early in the morning. JC looked down at his bare abs and wondered when in the course of last night’s forgotten antics did he get so cut. He shook his head, and then shook the bed.

“Um…hello? J-Jessica?” He’d never formally been introduced; it felt a little strange calling her by her first name when they’d never met. At least not sober. JC coughed the strangeness in his voice away and reached out to shake her shoulder. Even his hand felt different, looked a little different. “Hey…what did we take last night? Where’s Justin?”

She turned her head to look at JC. “Go back to sleep, babe. It’s early.”

Babe? JC stood up and looked at her. She was pretty but…not his type. Too tall. He liked them petite…girls, at least. So why the hell had he slept with her? “Uh…what…happened?” JC croaked, and tried to clear his throat of whatever was making him sound so different. “Does he—does Justin know about…this?” whispered JC.

“You’re funny,” Jessica Biel yawned. She turned away from JC and fell asleep again. JC sighed, more confused than ever.

Finally giving up, JC stood up and walked toward the bathroom, looking around the room for anything that might jar his memory about the previous night. “I guess I’ll have to find Justin myself,” he whispered as he walked into the bathroom to pee. He didn’t even have to look down to know that his dick didn’t feel right. Did I fucking shrink last night, he wondered as he flushed. “Where is he?” JC carped as he stood at the vanity to wash his hands.

When JC looked up at the mirror, he got his answer.

Justin dreamt that he woke up in JC’s bed. It took him a while to recognize the room. He hadn’t been upstairs in JC’s house for a few years; his visits of late had always been down in the living room, the kitchen, and JC’s in-house studio. But he’d seen the upstairs years ago when JC first moved in. He remembered the big bed, the dark furniture, the grey carpet. Justin didn’t question his unconscious, didn’t feel the need to wonder why such a vivid dream—a lucid dream—was taking place in JC’s bedroom. He shrugged and pretended like this was real life. He dropped to the plush carpeted floor to do his 50 first-thing-in-the-morning push-ups, but he inexplicably could only do 37 before his arms gave out. Only when he stood up did he realize that he was naked and had just imposed self-inflicted rug burn on his stomach and genitals. He started to wonder why he looked different, why his legs seemed skinnier, shorter, the hair darker, but he knew it was because of the dream. People often look different in their own dreams; sometimes they make themselves thinner, taller, prettier…with bigger dicks. It’s not that much bigger this morning, he thought as he looked down quickly. He looked around JC’s bedroom, half expecting Abraham Lincoln to ride out of the closet on a pink elephant. But this dream wasn’t like that at all. It wasn’t out of focus around the edges. It didn’t have atonal background music, or deceased relatives, or uncomfortable Oedipal symbols. Justin didn’t wake up when he shook his head really hard, or when he put on a pair of JC’s jeans from the closet, and not even when he went downstairs and came face to face with Tyler, who grumbled, “Morning, Josh.”

JC froze as he stared at Justin’s reflection staring back at him in the bathroom mirror. He said, “Oh, God,” and Justin said it back to him. Justin waved back to him when he waved, and Justin’s eyes went wide when the truth finally hit. JC’s mind blacked out, but it was Justin’s body that hit the floor.

Once Justin realized that he was no longer dreaming—had never been dreaming at all—he ran screaming up JC’s stairs, ran into JC’s closet, peeled off JC’s jeans, and slapped JC’s face until his cheeks hurt and he collapsed into a ball of crying, confused JC limbs.


Justin woke up to JC’s brother kicking him gently in the leg.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, bro? Here!” A cordless phone dropped with a thud onto Justin’s belly. He sat up, staring dumbly between the phone and Tyler, who was shaking his head at him like he was sending him to the corner with a dunce cap. “It’s Justin, man.”

“Huh?” Justin slowly stood up and stretched the crick in his back from where he’d fallen asleep in the middle of his floor. He arched much further than usual. Then he bent to the side, and then forward, each time getting a much better stretch than he ever did before. It was confusing as hell, but so was the fact that he was in JC’s house, in his bedroom, standing like an ijit in front of JC’s brother, and, apparently, wearing JC’s body.

“You want me to hang up on him or something?” Tyler asked, like he’d asked before. Justin wondered if JC had ever screened his calls.

“Hang up on whom?”

“On Justin, you dipshit!” Tyler laughed and smacked Justin’s head as he walked out of the room. “Mom said to call her later, and you need to pay the electric bill.”

“Why do you keep calling me—oh, shit!” Justin grabbed the phone and slammed the bedroom door closed before sinking down to the floor. Shaking hands brought the phone up to his—JC’s—ear, and Justin squeaked in JC’s voice, “He-hello?”

It was quiet for a few seconds, and then Justin could hear a few soft sobs come out of the phone. “J-Justin?”

Justin dropped the phone when he heard his own voice coming out of it. He stared at it as the voice—his voice—kept coming louder and louder. “Justin? Justin! Oh my God, Justin, what happened! It’s JC! What the fuck did you do to me!” Justin covered his ears with his hands, but he couldn’t drown out the screaming, the anger, the fear. He recognized his own voice, but never like that. He’d never sounded like that before. Finally he grabbed the phone and gave JC a taste.

“What do you mean, what did I do? What did you do!” Justin half screamed, half sobbed, the words in his brain and JC’s voice coming out of his mouth still disorienting him. When JC heard his own voice talking at him, he stopped yelling.

“Oh my—what happened to us?” JC whispered. Justin took several deep breaths and tried to calm himself.

“I guess we’ve, um, like, switched bodies,” Justin whispered back. It was still in JC’s voice, but the whispering was less conspicuous, and so less confusing. “Whatever you did, you better undo it, JC. Your brother thinks I’m you!”

“You think I like this?” JC hissed. “I’m in the bathroom in some strange hotel with Jessica Alba!”


“Whatever! Stop doing this and get me out of here!”

“I’m not doing it!” Justin hissed. “Look, just calm down. We’ve got to figure this out!” His eyes darted quickly around JC’s bedroom for some clue as to how this could have happened. “Is this…are we on Punk’d?”

When Justin heard his own voice growling menacingly at him through the phone, he knew for sure that this wasn’t Ashton Kutcher’s fault.


“No, Justin. I don’t think that Britney joined a coven in rehab and put a hex on you, ok?” JC stretched his slightly taller, slightly more muscular body. He cricked the tension from his neck, and the snap was so loud that Justin could hear it through the phone.

“Hey! What are you doing? What sound was that?”

“My—um, your neck?”

“Shit! You can do whatever you want to your own body, but while you’re in mine you’d better take care of it, do you understand me?”

“I was just cracking my neck! I’ve been on this phone for half and hour and—you know what? You can’t tell me what to do, Justin.” JC lowered his voice and growled, “This is my body now. So you better watch your step if you don’t want me doing something to it!”

Justin shook with rage. “I wouldn’t be making any threats if I was you. There’s a tattoo parlor just down the block.”

There was silence, and then JC whispered, “Fine. I’ll try to figure this out myself. I’ve got to go now. Your girlfriend is calling y—me.” The line went dead. Justin wanted to scream, but he was afraid of what it would sound like.


“Justin. Justin!” JC felt annoyed eyes on him. He lifted his sunglasses and looked up at Jessica Al-Biel.

“Excuse me?”

“Justin, what are you doing here?” JC had almost forgotten. He’d fallen asleep in the shade on a chaise on the veranda of his hotel room, he had a good book he’d found in Justin’s suitcase on his chest, and he had a fruity drink by his side. During his nap he’d dreamt that he was himself again, back home in L.A., throwing daggers at Jive executives. Now he was awake again. And he was Justin again.

“I’m…um…getting some sun. Jessica.” JC smiled at the way his saying her name seemed to confuse her.

“I can see that, but aren’t you supposed to be doing a sound check right now?”

“Sound check?” JC sat up straight in his chair. Sound check = Performance. JC suddenly saw images of himself on stage, in front of thousands of adoring fans, having to apologize that he didn’t know any of the songs. Maybe he could just do *Nsync songs—if he remembered them. Then he wondered if maybe Justin’s fans wouldn’t instead prefer an a cappella performance of JC Chasez’s lost second album. He snickered; Justin would kill him, if it didn’t mean destroying his own body.

“Hello? What’s the matter with you, Justin? You’re so spacey today!”

“Um, you know what, I better, uh. I have some calls to make.” JC jumped out of the chaise and looked around for Justin’s cell phone. “I just better, um…what?”

“You’re freaking me out, baby.” Jessica walked by JC, but not before leaning in to give him a quick kiss on the lips. “I’ll see you in a few days.”

“Where are you going?” JC shrieked. As weird as he felt in the situation, and as little as he knew her, the thought of facing the world in Justin’s body all by himself was a little frightening. “I mean, um, what?”

“I’ve got to get back to L.A. to start promoting Chuck & Larry, remember?”

“Oh, right.” JC let Justin’s girlfriend kiss him again—not bad, he thought—and watched her walk out of their hotel room with a few people who waved at him like they knew him. As soon as the door closed he dove for the cell phone again. He dialed his own cell phone number, and it picked up before it even rang.


“Where the fuck have you been? I’ve left a gazillion messages on my phone, and your brother is getting suspicious and I can’t hide in your bedroom forever and I’m hungry and you don’t have any cereal and—”

“Shh! Listen to me,” JC hissed. “You have a performance today. You think I can just do some of my own songs, or maybe just do ‘Gone’ a few times and that’d be it? What do you think?”


“Or, maybe I can, um…let’s see. I can see your toes in the sand…walking on the beach hand in hand…um…I can see you on the countryside…sticking your face in my chicken pot pie—

“Oh. My. God.”


JC sank into the large Jacuzzi in his hotel room, letting the jet spray ease the tension from his body. He hadn’t even left the room all day, and he was exhausted. Pretending to be Justin was almost as exhausting as being Justin. He’d had to make a ridiculous amount of phone calls, sometimes with the hotel phone in 1 ear and Justin screaming instructions at him through his cell phone in the other. And all the while JC had to hear it in his own voice. It was confusing and disturbing. And just plain weird. The performance Justin was to have done that day was just for a television show, so it was no trouble rescheduling it for what Justin had grumbled, “When this insanity finally stops.” Johnny didn’t seem to notice anything strange when JC called him. It wasn’t until later, after more calls to Justin’s assistants, Tennman execs, and people from William Rast, that JC realized he could have queried Johnny about his own situation at Jive. They probably would tell Justin anything he asked for, even if it had nothing to do with him.

“Damn it!” JC shouted at the missed opportunity, the frustration of being in a foreign country, in a foreign body, alone and afraid to leave the room. He looked around at the opulence that he hadn’t experienced himself since the days of *Nsync. “Well, then. Might as well make the best of it.”

JC put on a robe and ordered the most expensive things from the room service menu. Twice. Then he found Justin’s wallet and hit Amazon.com.

The only thing JC asked Justin to do for him was call his mother. Justin jotted down the number and started dialing the house phone with JC still on the cell, but JC grunted something about room service and hanged up on him. Justin took a deep breath and pressed the last number.


“Hello, Mrs. Cha—um, I mean, uh…hi…M-Mom.”

“Josh, dear!” JC’s mother started in on something about JC’s finances, talking fast and further confusing Justin, who never understood why JC had his mom doing his books when he could hire a room of bespectacled accountant nerds like he did. It was only when he heard the word “sell” that Justin interrupted.

“Wait a minute. What are you selling?”

“That stock we talked about last week, honey, remember?”

“Yeah, I forgot, I guess.”

“Oh.” Karen paused, and then said more softly, “Don’t worry too much about it, honey. It’s only a few shares, not all of it. The extra revenue is just in case…well…until those Jive bastards get their heads out of their asses—”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, it’s true,” Karen continued. “I just don’t want you to worry about anything, son. You’ll get through this. You’ll find another record deal, and you’ll move on.”


“What’s the matter, son? You sound…different?”

Justin mumbled, “I just have a cold or something.”

“Well, take care of yourself, Josh.” JC’s mother cleared her throat and asked, “I don’t suppose you changed your mind about asking Justin about his new label?”

Justin’s throat went tight, so he was barely able to choke out, “Ask him what?”

“I know you probably would never ask him, and it’s probably a moot point with your Jive contract and all, but…can it hurt that badly to just look into it? Maybe he’d sign you, Josh.”

Justin didn’t know what to say. He started to stammer. “But…maybe…what…I—”

“Now don’t get all upset like you did when I mentioned it the first time, honey. It’s just a thought.” Karen sighed and mumbled something about “least he could do,” but Justin didn’t ask her to repeat it. He was exhausted just from listening.

“I, uh, I better go…Mom.”

“Ok. Oh, your brother told me you passed on doing the soundtrack for Showgirls 2. Thank God! Love you!” Justin threw the phone down and then threw himself on JC’s bed. It smelled like JC, like JC’s shampoo and his pink clothes. It wasn’t half bad. He fell asleep thinking about shampoo.


JC woke up the next morning, got dressed, picked up his hotel keys and was half way down the hall before his security people fell in step and formed a human shield around him.

“I, uh, thought maybe I’d, um, go out for breakfast,” he said absently to the men towering over him. Someone made a call, and people on headsets grunted at each other, and before JC knew what was happening, he was being chauffeured to an exclusive restaurant. As he walked in he saw the sign indicating that the restaurant didn’t actually open for another 4 more hours.

Afterwards, he mentioned offhandedly that he wanted to buy a few things, and he was whisked away to an upscale department store. As he walked in, he saw shoppers being ushered out and told the store was temporarily closed. JC felt guilty; he’d only wanted to buy some underwear. When he reached for his wallet and saw Justin’s face on the ID, he threw off his guilt and spent thousands of dollars on clothes and accessories…and $10 on underwear.

When Justin woke up still in JC’s body, he decided to give in and go home. He took JC’s car, which needed gas. Justin reluctantly pulled into a gas station and looked around nervously for the cameras that always seemed to catch him at the pump. When he saw a man with a camera, he prepared himself for the usual media-baiting obscene finger gestures. But after only 2 shots, the paparazzo smiled and walked away, like he was satisfied with just those pictures. Like he wasn’t going to try to pick a fight. Justin watched the guy walk away, and then realized that, while people looked at him, they didn’t look at him. They smiled at him. Justin went inside to pay for gas, and no one screamed. They giggled. A couple of girls squealed, but they left him alone. Justin walked out slowly, got into JC’s car, and drove away feeling out of sorts. And very relieved.



“I just got a message that there’s been an inordinate amount of charges on my credit card, all coming from London!” Justin growled as he rummaged around in his own refrigerator. “What the hell, C?”

JC looked around his hotel room at the designer-emblazoned shopping bags. “I needed clothes, man.”

“There are clothes in your—my suitcase!”

“Yeah, but…well, I had to buy underwear, didn’t I? I can’t very well wear yours!” Justin started to bark a reply, but it occurred to him that at that very moment, he was wearing JC’s underwear, even though it came directly from a package and was brand new, it was still JC’s underwear. He shook the idea from his head.

“I hope you’re keeping receipts.”

“For sure, I am,” JC lied.

They went through another barrage of necessary phone calls and scheduling changes. JC paced back and forth as he looked outside at the waning daylight. Justin could hear the restlessness through the phone.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“You mean, besides inhabiting a foreign body and having my life turned upside down?” JC sighed as he ran his hand over the short curls he had yet to tell Justin that he’d was letting grow.

“Foreign body? It’s not like I’m a Martian or something.”

“No, I just. I guess I need to, like, go out.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Justin declared. “Who knows what kind of shit you’d get me into? Just stay put, JC. I mean it.”

JC looked at the phone. Then he turned it off and ran for the shower.

“JC? JC? Did you hang up on me?” Justin slammed the phone down and grumbled to himself while he finished making himself a plate. “Can’t believe this. My life is falling apart and he’s going shopping! I’m gonna kill whoever did this to me, and then I’ll go to jail, and then I’ll end up having to wear lipstick and a dress for some guy named Big Bob and—oh, hi, Mommy,” Justin said nonchalantly as he walked past a very startled Lynn. It took him a minute, and then Justin stopped and rushed back to the kitchen. “Uh…hi, uh…Lynn. How, um…how are y-you?”

“Fine, JC.” Justin’s mother gave Justin a quick, impersonal kiss on the cheek. “It’s been ages since I’ve seen you, JC. How are, um, things?”

Justin gaped at his mother’s obvious discomfort. There was a time when she was practically a second mother to JC. “Things are…interesting at the moment.” She looked at the food he had teetering on a plate. “I was just having a bite. Justin’ll be back later.”

“Really?” Lynn looked at the man she didn’t know was her son accusingly. “I didn’t think Justin was due back from Europe until tomorrow night.”

Justin was torn. When did his mother become so distrustful? It was surprising to see her like this, but comforting that she was so protective of his house and his stuff. Still, did his house and stuff need protecting from JC of all people?

“Yeah, I—um, Justin is supposed to fly back tomorrow night. I talked to him earlier and he said I could drop by and borrow a CD, and he said I could, like, eat his leftovers,” he lied with his eyes firmly on the floor, in case his mother was able to read him regardless of the body he inhabited. “When I said later I meant, um, like, much later,” Justin tried to joke. Lynn shrugged and walked past him and dropped some mail on the kitchen counter. He watched her, hoping she was going to leave. It was an unfamiliar feeling; the only time in Justin’s life that he’d ever craved his mother’s absence was when he was trying to get busy with a chick—or himself. The thought made Justin look down at JC’s tight pants…and JC’s tight package. He gulped and went for the drawer by the stove. “You know what, M—Lynn? I’m gonna just wrap this up and, you know, take it home and stuff.” He rummaged around for the plastic wrap.

“What are you looking for, JC?”

“Just…this!” He ripped off a sheet of cling wrap, but the static electricity kept it on his fingers. He fiddled with it nervously. “I’ve…just…gotta—”

“Is something wrong, Josh?” Lynn placed a hand on Justin’s shoulder and patted it sympathetically. “Are you upset about Eva?”

“Eva? Why would I be upset about that whorrrrwhatdoyoumean?” Justin squeaked, catching himself a little too late.

“Well, that she got married,” Lynn said with a sorrowful smile. “Are you alright, dear?” Justin smiled at his sweet mom. He felt the sudden urge to spill the beans—he was going crazy not being able to be his true self, especially to his own mother. Lynn rubbed his back, a pacifying gesture that Justin really didn’t need—but maybe JC did.

“Um, no, I’m fine. I’m over Eva, completely. I’m just going to go home now.”

“What about your food?” Lynn asked as she watched her son walk away from her without their usual goodbye hugs.

“That’s ok,” Justin said as he rushed for the door, “I’ve got food at home.” When Justin got back to JC’s house, he ordered a ton of expensive groceries to be delivered, and a new pair of sneakers, all on JC’s credit card.

Later, he left a message on his own cell phone saying, “Heard about Eva getting married. Hope you’re ok.” And he meant it.



Lindsay Lohan –psychic warns not to drive in espadrilles

Nicole Ritchie – pregnant behind bars?

Justin Timberlake – fashion fiasco

Britney Spears – bringing the crazy like only she can

Famous-Shame-Us has acquired these photos of J.T. at an exclusive club in London last night. A rare sighting of JT sans constant girlfriend Jessica Biel, he danced and cavorted with some cool musicians and semi-royals. In an even rarer moment, he exited the club and gave the paparazzi a peace sign. Quite a change from his usual finger gestures! Such a change for Timberlake – he seemed friendlier, wasn’t as upset by the paparazzi, and even signed autographs and chatted with some fans before entering his limo.

“He was so much nicer than he was just a few days ago!” screamed one fan.

“He should go out without that bird of his more often,” said another.

“He looked more relaxed, but what was with that outfit?” a paparazzo asked.


Mr. Monte Carlo’s celebrity dirt - Timberlake ditches his boo and dons some crazy froufrou?

What’s gotten into the sometimes discourteous JT? He was out last night having fun in London while his constant girl-of-the-month Jessica Biel was back in L.A. Justin seems to have gone a bit wacko; he was nice to fans and paparazzi, but the really weird change was his clothes. If I didn’t see the pictures myself, I wouldn’t have believed that Mr. Trousersnake would ever be caught wearing pink pinstriped skinny pants so tight that the whole world now knows his religion! And the green and pink puff shirt that can only be described as a “blouse”? Were those feathers on the back? For shame, Justin. As someone who supposedly has his own line of clothes, you should know better!

Ditch the new threads, but keep the new attitude!


JC didn’t get to bed until nearly dawn on his last night in London. After only a few hours of sleep, the phone started ringing off the hook. Justin’s tour manager, Justin’s assistants, Justin’s mom, Trace, a few others that JC didn’t know. He faked his way through the calls as best he could—Justin had insisted he take notes during their last conversation. Just when JC thought he could get back to sleep, the phone rang again.

“What?” JC snapped.

“Well fuck you, too!”

“Sorry, Jessica,” JC sighed, resisting the urge to call her by her full name, in case he said “Al-Biel” like he always did in his head. “What can I do for you?”

“Just wanted to say hello, I guess. And to see when you were getting back to L.A. And to, uh, ask you about that wonderful outfit you were wearing last night!”

JC looked down at his fabulous pink and green shirt that was so soft he’d slept in it. “What do you mean? How do you know what I wore last night?”

“Bro, check out your boy Justin!” Tyler plopped down on his brother’s bed and shook Justin awake. “You gotta see this!”

“What the hell?” Justin groaned as he rolled over. “I was just about to fall asleep, man!”

“Please, like you don’t sleep enough,” Tyler retorted as he dropped a notebook computer down in front of what he thought was his brother’s face. “Anyway, look at Timberlake, man. This is hysterical!”

“What has he done—now.” Justin’s eyes flew open as they searched the screen in front of them. For a moment he stopped breathing; there he was, his body, his face, and yet it wasn’t really him. It was JC, but it was Justin, too. It was like looking at a baby picture that you know is you, but you have absolutely no recollection of the photograph being taken. It was the first time Justin had seen JC using—using—his body, and it was beyond surreal. And it was made all the worse by the fact that JC was wearing something Justin wouldn’t be caught dead in. “How can he do this?”

“I know!” Tyler laughed, “That crap looks like something you’d wear!”

“What are you talking about, Jes—uh, um, ho-honey?” JC almost laughed as he scanned the tabloid that he’d found on his hotel room doorstep. He stopped short at a picture of Justin Timberlake smiling, signing autographs, and holding up a silly peace sign for photographers. The blurb under the pictures made a big deal about how odd Justin’s congenial attitude towards the media and fans was. Justin was even wearing something colorful and bright for once. JC was about to say something like “You’re boyfriend looks happy, for once” until he realized that it was him in those pictures, waving and smiling and wearing pink, not Justin. It was beyond surreal. “Yeah, so?”

“It’s just an, uh, interesting look for you, that’s all,” Jessica Biel snorted. JC bit his tongue; he’d seen a picture or two of her red carpet fiascos, but he kept that to himself.

“It’s a really soft shirt. I liked it, ok? It’s not the end of the world.”

“Yeah, I know.” Justin’s girlfriend cleared her throat and said, “And what’s with the ‘I love the paparazzi’ attitude now?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” JC stated.

“Like, I don’t care, baby, but…” Jessica coughed and mumbled, “Now people’ll think that you’re all mean because of me, or something.”

Before JC could catch himself he stated, “Oh, don’t worry about it. He was like that with Cameron, too.”

There was silence, and then Justin’s girlfriend asked, “Um…what are you talking about, Justin?”

“Um, you know what, I’ve gotta, um, what…hello? Are you there, Jessica? I can’t…bad lines…you’re…call…back…ater…bye!” JC threw down the phone and congratulated himself on his fine acting. Then he looked at the pictures of himself-cum-Justin again. “Don’t know what they’re complaining about. It’s a cool fucking shirt.” Just then, the phone rang again, and JC knew exactly who it was. “Don’t have a cow, Justin.”

“What the hell are you trying to do to me? I look hideous!”

“I do not look—I mean, you don’t look—I mean—ugh! Justin, it’s fine, ok? It’s just a shirt, man.”

Justin ran the water in JC’s bathroom so Tyler couldn’t overhear. “It’s a whole outfit! What were you thinking? And why did you go out when I told you not to?”

JC took a deep breath. “You’re not my mother, Justin. You can’t tell me what to do.”

“As long as you’re in my body, I can!” Justin hissed. “I bet you haven’t even worked out in 2 days. Are you doing the crunches? How are my abs?”

“You know what? I don’t need this right now. I’m trying to make the best of this—”

“Oh, I bet!” Justin ejected as he threw his arms up in the air. “You’re having a great time, spending my money, living it up in a 5 star hotel while I’m stuck back here in the slow lane!”

JC wanted to yell and scream, but he couldn’t think of a good enough answer. And he couldn’t exactly disagree. So he hung up.

“Damn it!” Justin threw the phone down. Watching it smash into pieces on the hard floor only gave temporary satisfaction. Once he realized he’d just lost his connection to JC, he cursed and headed back to bed.

Justin! We’ll be leaving for Heathrow around 7:30, so get all your shit in gear!

Justin, we’re thinking we should sign Tay Zonday! Jermaine Dupri wants to remix “Chocolate Rain!”

Hey, baby, call me when you get home. Oh, um, JC was at your house. Is he ok?

Hun, did you hang up on me earlier? Call me back. Miss you. You miss me, right?

J, Trace. What do you think of jeans that look like chaps for next fall? Later!

It’s me, C. Um…heard about Eva getting married. Hope you’re ok.

JC replayed the last of Justin’s messages, more than once. By the third time, he wasn’t angry anymore.


Justin was still fuming hours later as he grumbled over a bowl of all natural breakfast cereal. Tyler watched his brother’s back for a moment. “What’s your problem, C?”

“Don’t you—don’t we have any good cereal?” Justin whined, squinching his nose up even as he gobbled down the sticks and twigs.

“You buy that crap, not me.” Tyler opened the fridge for some juice and then looked at the clock on the wall. “Aren’t you doing that radio show this morning?”

Justin dropped his spoon. “I have to do a radio interview today? All by myself?”

“Pay attention to your schedule, man. Eric said he’d pick you up in half an hour.” Justin watched JC’s brother walk away, and then thought about it for a second. “Do an interview as JC.” A vicious smile spread across his face as he finished his high fiber, low sugar, low taste breakfast. “Oh, hell, yeah.”


Dave: Welcome back to KFUN. We’re here with JC Chasez! Welcome to the Afternoon Idiocy on KFUN, JC!

Kiki: JC! (Applause)

JC Chasez: Thanks for having me, Dave and Kiki.

K: Can I just say that you’re just as hot in real life as you are on TV?

JC: Really? I mean, um, like, whoa! Thanks…cat? I mean, girl!

D: She’s been hot for you since you were in *Nsync.

K: Omigosh, yes! You were my favorite! You and Lance!

JC: Really? Lance?

K: Definitely. I love blondes.

D: So, tell us about your upcoming album, JC. When can we expect to see it?

JC: Well, things are still kinda, um, up in the air, but…you liked blondes, and you liked Lance? What about, you know, the other blonde?

K: Who, Justin Timberlake?

D: He’s more of a light brunette, don’t you think?

JC: Well, if you want to get technical—

K: Nah, I never really was into Justin.

D: She liked Nick Carter instead.

K: Ha ha! That’s right! I like those young ones!

D: You dirty girl! Anyway, JC, tell us about some of the songs on your—

JC: So, what, is there, like, something wrong with Justin?

D: You’re dissing his boy there, Kiki!

K: Nothing’s wrong with him—if you like guys with no ass! (Laughter)

JC: Yeah, that’s just sooooo funny. What do you call this, huh?

D: Ladies and Gentlemen, JC is out of his chair and turned around and pointing at his backside. Kiki is on the floor laughing! This man is serious!

JC: (Overheard in background) This isn’t exactly JLO back here, so I don’t know what you’re talking about…

D: Ah, we’ll be right back, folks!

{Commercial Break}

D: And we’re back! JC has calmed down a bit.

JC: Yeah, sorry. I just, er, had a little too much coffee this morning, I guess.

D: We understand, man. So, let’s talk about the new album. What’s it called?

JC: Uh…you know, uh, naming an album is like the last thing I do, man.

K: Isn’t it supposed to be called Kate?

JC: Oh. Right, right! Yeah, Kate…or Kathy. Or Jake! (Laughs) Just kidding…

D: Ooooookaaay. So, like, you pop stars are always collaborating with other musicians. Who did you work with this time around?

JC: Funny you should ask! I worked with your favorite person, Kiki—Justin!

K: Man, I always thought you were more laid back, JC!

D: We’re all here to have a good time, right, everyone?

JC: (Overheard in background) Can I get a bottle of Souroti instead of this domestic crap?

K: Ooooo-kaaay.

JC: Yeah, so, like I was saying, Justin and I worked together on one of hi—of my songs, and it came out pretty good. Justin’s a pleasure to work with, and a talented and humble human being. And maybe his ass is small, but he really knows how to work it!

D: Um.

K: We’ll be right back.

{Commercial Break}

K: Welcome back to the Idiocy. We’re talking to a, uh, somewhat peeved JC Chasez.

JC: I’m not peeved. I’ve just had a rough few days.

D: What’s going on, man? The word out there is that you’re fighting with your record label, right?

K: Yeah, like, Jive Records isn’t supporting it? Are they even going to release it?

JC: Uh. Where’d you hear that?

K: That’s cold, man. Aren’t you mad? Are you thinking about leaving them?

JC: Uh—

D: You should just leave them, man. They suck!

JC: I can’t, uh, comment on that, but…say, have you guys seen Shrek 3 yet?

K: Seriously, JC. Are you shopping around for another record deal, or are you stuck with Jive?

D: Will they release you from your contract? What’s going on?

JC: Um—I’m sure that…whatever the people at Jive are planning…will be the…um…correct thing to do.

D: I see.

K: Oh.

JC: Is it, uh, warm in here?

D: We’ll be right back.

{Commercial Break}

K: We’re talking to JC, who’s had a word with his manager, and, uh, we’re changing the subject!

JC: We sure are!

K: So, JC—how do you feel about Eva Longoria getting married?

D: Yeah!

K: Did that bother you? Are you two still friends? C’mon, fess up!

JC: Yeah, I just heard about that. I’m sure they’ll be very happy.

D: He’s got the biggest smirk on his face right now!

JC: I’m serious. I don’t hold grudges. She’s a nice, uh, nice girl.

K: So, you’re over the fact that she dumped you?

JC: She didn’t dump me! I dumped her two-timing ass—

K: We’ll be right back!

{Commercial Break}

D: We’re with JC…still. Um…well, uh, are you watching Joey’s show, man?

JC: Joey has a show?

K: The Singing Bee?

JC: Oh. Yeah, no. I don’t, uh, watch too much TV. I’m sure Joey is great on it.

K: But you voted for him when he was on Dancing with the Stars, right?

JC: Um—

D: You were on that program, JC!

JC: Really? Oh, yeah! I totally forgot. I can be a complete moron sometimes! Just kidding…

K: Why don’t we take a call? You’re on the air with JC!

Female caller: Hi, JC! I’ve loved you ever since MMC!

JC: Oh, God.

D: That’s right, you were on the Mickey Mouse Club back in the 90s, with, like, everybody. Did you get a lot of experience working on that show?

JC: I guess.

Female caller: You were soooo talented, even back then, JC!

JC: Um…thanks.

K: Wow. Next caller.

Female caller: Hi, JC! I just wanted to say I loooove the songs I’ve heard so far, and I can’t wait for your album. Screw Jive Records!

JC: What did you think of “Until Yesterday”?

Female caller: It’s neat!

JC: Neat, huh? Mmmm.

D: Thanks…uh, wait a minute—I don’t believe this, but we have a very special caller on the line!

JC: Oh, yeah? Who?

Male caller: Hello—JC.

JC: Oh, sh—

{Commercial Break}

D: And we are back, talking to JC Chasez, and on the phone, out of the blue—we did NOT plan this, people—is Justin Timberlake!

K: Thanks for calling in, JT!

Justin Timberlake: It’s my pleasure!

D: What are you doing, man?

JT: I’m actually in an airport lounge in London getting ready to come home, and I was listening to this interview online on my laptop and, um, wanted to say hello…or something!

D: Well, it’s a great surprise!

K: Yeah, this is wonderful!

JT: Oh, you’re sucking up to me now, even though I have no ass? (Laughter)

K: Awww, Justin! No hard feelings?

JT: Of course not, it’s all good!

JC: (Clearing throat) Being interviewed, here!

JT: My, my, JC. You sure are…churlish today!

JC: I am not!

D: I can’t comment, as I don’t know what churlish means!

JC: Neither does Justin!

JT: Meow!

K: Hey, Justin, how’s Jessica Biel? You two have been dating how long?

JT: Ah…you know, uh, when you’re this happy, time has no meaning.

D: Ooh, JC is frowning up a storm!

JC: Uh, Justin?

JT: Yes, JC?

JC: Didn’t you tell me that you don’t like to discuss your private relationships, especially at such delicate stages early on, and that, while you’re open to discuss any and all professional projects, you’re determined to keep your private life to yourself, and that you need that barrier in your life right now or you’ll go mad, and that all the media’s annoying intrusion into your personal life is about to drive you insane, and that sometimes you think about retiring and just raising sheep on a farm in Montana?

JT: Um…when did I say that?

JC: That’s it!

D: JC! JC…JC, don’t stomp on the headphones!

{Commercial Break}

D: Well, folks, it’s been an, uh, eventful show, to say the least!

K: Who’d have thunk JC Chasez was so…passionate about protecting his ex-bandmate?

JC: I just don’t want—Justin is very sensitive…and he’s often misunderstood. He’s a really cool guy, he just—he…he…

JT: His—my people skills aren’t always what they should be, I know that. I can come off as being, um, aloof with people, the press, fans. I just, um, I really, um, have a hard time trusting people sometimes, and being in the public eye is hard when you’re like that. It boils down to, like, fear of getting hurt.

K: Wow, man! Sounds like you’ve been to therapy.

D: Yeah, Justin. You sound really healthy to me!

JT: Well, I’m trying. I’ve been kind of out of it lately, with the pressure of the tour and some other things, but…I’m trying to calm down. Talking to my friends helps. I, um, just went through a whole bunch of messages on my cell phone, from friends back home in the States, and, uh, it helps when your friends have your back. Like, just someone asking if I was ok about, um, a situation with someone I used to know, just that quick message really just, like, helped me, um, feel better…and stuff. So, yeah, my friends mean a lot to me.

JC: Oh.

D: That’s awesome, Justin!

K: You’re the man, Justin. I like you now!

JT: Aw, that’s awesome, cat!

JC: Yo, isn’t this supposed to be my interview?

D: Thanks to JC Chasez for coming in—oh, he’s getting up already, ok…uh…and a very special thanks to Justin Timberlake for calling in!

K: Please come visit us, Justin!

JT: Will do!

JC: (Overheard in background) Not bloody likely…

D: JC, any chance for an *Nsync reu—JC! I’m kidding! Not the hair! Not the hair!



“Can I get you anything, Mr. Timberlake?” JC almost looked around the first class cabin, and then he realized the flight attendant was addressing him. “Something to drink, perhaps?”

“Oh, yeah, that would be great, actually.” JC wanted to meow as he lifted the hot towel from his face. Before he could ask for a club soda, he was presented with a glass of champagne. “Oh, um, thank you very much!”

“My pleasure. If there’s anything else you need…” The flight attendant offered JC a smile that was both polite and come-hither and then walked away. JC watched her saunter back downstairs to business class, which was where he would have been if he was still himself. He turned back to his glass, but before he could take a sip Justin’s tour manager slid into the seat next to him.

“Are you ok up here, man?” he asked facetiously. JC simply nodded; he still often forgot the man’s name. “Right. Well, I have some stuff for you to read.” There were some new magazines, high fashion, European, both men’s and women’s, and several scripts and proposals. “And, um…we had to pull a shitload of strings, but…here.” Confused, JC went to open a heavy leather portfolio, but Justin’s tour manager held his hand down. “You’ve got until we land, and then I’ve got to get it back, ok?”

“Um, what is it?”

“Look.” The tour manager leaned forward, looked around to ensure no one could overhear, and stated, “We tried to get you the...Rowling book,” he whispered, and JC nearly choked on his champagne. “But it was impossible, Justin. They’ve got, like, the military watching every copy of that book until the 21st, so…I’m sorry, but, it just couldn’t be done, man.”

“I can’t believe he—you really tried to get the Harry—”

“Shhh! Yes, we tried, but no go…but since it was for you, we got you something else. We know how bored you get on these long flights, so…happy belated Fourth of July from the guys at Jive.” The guy looked at the portfolio like it was found gold and then headed back downstairs. JC was almost afraid to look. He took a long sip, put down the rest of the pile and opened the leather case.

“Damn.” It wasn’t the last Harry Potter book, but it was something even rarer. JC held up the original, unbound manuscript of Lance Bass’ still untitled autobiography. JC’s mouth fell open as the realization came over him that this was the actual printout that Lance submitted to his editors—and it wasn’t even finished yet. JC sifted through the pages, a few of which had handwritten notes in Lance’s precise penmanship. JC shook his head and carefully placed the pages back in the case. He was shaking a little as he sifted through the rest of the pile and saw scripts for projects he knew to be earmarked for A-list, award-winning, studied actors. Below those were proposals, contracts, and legal forms from Justin’s own record label, Jive, his lawyers, William Rast, his restaurants, and other shit JC had know idea that Justin was into. It was a dizzying amount of stuff, and JC could do nothing but put his seat into a full horizontal bed position and drink himself to sleep.

Justin’s stomach soured as he re-read the transcript of his interview as JC. JC’s manager paced in front of him in JC’s kitchen.

“That wasn’t the best interview, C. What was wrong with you today?”

“I’m just tired,” Justin grumbled. “What do we have to do for damage control? How many publicists will we need?”

Eric stopped pacing and looked at JC curiously. “How many? Like you have more than one publicist!” He sat down across from Justin at the kitchen table and turned the laptop so he could see the online transcript himself. “I guess the only good thing about this is that, well, it’s a pretty obscure radio station, so I doubt more than 20 people even heard it.”

“Well what was the point of even doing it, then?” Justin snickered as he rubbed his temples. “Wasted time, man.”

“Yeah, thanks for the vote of confidence.” Eric pushed the computer away and gave his client a hard look. “What’s with you? You’ve been an asshole all day. For two days, really!”

“I’m just in a bad place right now,” Justin answered as he dropped his face to the kitchen table. “This shit with Jive doesn’t help.”

“I know, and I’m working on it, but…is there something else going on?”

Justin sighed, “It’s personal, man.” Something bumped against Justin’s foot. It was Eric’s. “I, uh, I’m sorry if I’ve been a dick lately. Hopefully this nightmare will be over soon.”

“What nightmare?” Eric asked in a soft voice, as soft as the hand that was suddenly on the back of Justin’s neck. Justin’s eyes shot open in time to catch Eric sliding into the chair next to him and adding a second hand to his neck. He rubbed gently, smiled wickedly, and offered flirtatiously, “Speaking of dick…maybe I can help you take your mind off your troubles.”

Justin gasped and sat up quickly in his chair. Eric’s hands fell from Justin’s neck to Justin’s shoulder…and then down to the small of Justin’s back. Justin sat frozen, so dumbstruck that he couldn’t move, only mutter, “Wh-what are you d-doing?”

“Helping you relax,” muttered Eric, and then he leaned in. The next few seconds were a blur of grazing lips, scuffling chairs and high pitched exclamations, ending with Eric landing on his ass on the floor. “Hey! What the hell is your problem, JC?”

“You tried to…to…”

“I don’t need this,” Eric huffed as he got to his feet. “Look, if you’re seeing someone else exclusively and you want to stop fooling around, why don’t you just say so?” Justin’s jaw dropped. He scanned JC’s manager quickly for signs that he was joking, that he was lying, that he and JC weren’t—that he wasn’t expecting him to—

“I don’t, um, know what to say,” Justin mumbled. It was the truth. “I just can’t do…anything…right now. I’m sorry. I just…I can’t.”

“Well, when you figure out what you do want, you let me know.” When Justin finally looked up, Eric was gone. Justin slumped back into JC’s chair and laid his head on JC’s table and tried not to feel too guilty about ruining JC’s sex life. It wasn’t hard.


JC woke up in Justin’s bed. As he walked around getting his bearings, he started to remember the previous night. Justin’s security team practically had to carry him home, and he’d been so out of it that he couldn’t protest when he saw them pull into Justin’s driveway instead of his own.

After a long shower and a lot of stalling, JC finally got up the nerve to fiddle through Justin’s closet. He found some old jeans and a T-shirt that he could have sworn used to belong to him, and then he headed downstairs. The expansive house was unsettlingly quiet. Whenever he’d visited, the house was always teeming with assistants, close relatives, security, or cleaning staff. It had never before occurred to JC that maybe he’d only ever been invited to Justin’s house when something was “on,” never just when Justin was alone. JC tried not to take offense, instead focusing on getting food and aspirin into his stomach.

Justin woke up early and rushed out of the house, hoping to avoid more teasing from Tyler about the interview, and possibly another run-in with Eric. He took one of JC’s cars that he’d never seen before, a pedestrian sedan that all but faded into traffic save its tinted windows. It occurred to Justin that he’d probably been through several cars since he’d last driven anywhere with JC. He tried not to feel bad about it, instead focusing on getting to his own house to confront JC and figure out what to do.

JC had just started his coffee when the phone started ringing and people started showing up. Justin’s assistants, Trace, house staff, and lawn servicemen provided a near steady stream of people in and out the front or back doors. People talked at him and he just nodded and tried to hide. When Lynn showed up he almost cried when she hugged him tight.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Justin’s mother laughed at her son’s sad face. “Did you miss your mama?”

“Mmm-hmm!” JC pushed out his bottom lip like Justin used to do all the time, and that just made his mother laugh all the louder. Suddenly JC really did feel like he missed her, and he hugged her again until her laughter sounded more like that of her son’s. JC sighed and felt like he was finally, in some ways, home.

“You look tired, honey. Go take a nap.”

“I think I will…mom.” JC smiled at the word and turned to go upstairs, leaving his pretend mother to answer the ringing doorbell.

Justin had to ring the buzzer at the gate of his own house. He had to announce himself as “It’s me—um, it’s JC. JC Chasez” to his own assistants before being allowed onto the grounds. He had to walk up the front and ring his own doorbell like a stranger. And then he had to come face to face with his own mother, who looked at him like he was crazy.

“Hello, hon! Fancy seeing you again so soon!”

Justin made a mental note to send JC’s mother some flowers or something, and then said, “Hi! Um, is Justin home?”

“Sure, JC,” Lynn answered as she opened the door. “He’s right here.” Justin rushed in before thinking about what he was doing. He looked around too quickly, and then he heard a familiar yawn on the steps.

JC turned when he heard a familiar voice at the front door. His eyes flew to the bottom of the stairs and looked directly at his own face, into his own eyes.

Justin looked up and saw himself looking back at him, but there was no mirror, no video screens. His breath caught in his throat.



“Man,” Lynn quipped as she followed their intense gaze, “you’d have thought that you two hadn’t seen in other in—oh my goodness! Justin, come down here. JC has passed out!”


Justin could barely discern being hoisted up by a few people, but the body that carried him all the way upstairs seemed familiar, the hands rubbing his back the whole way felt familiar, the panicked voice whispering in his ear sounded familiar. When he came to in his bedroom and saw his body standing over him, he nearly passed out again.

“Justin! Are you alright?”

“Shh! Don’t—be quiet a second, OK?”

“Ok…I mean, um…sorry.” JC went out into the hall and addressed Lynn and the others with, “JC’s fine, he’s just a little dehydrated…you know what a lightweight he is.” Justin knew he shouldn’t take offense to a dig directed at JC, but he still growled. When JC came back and closed the door, Justin made another attempt to look at him. “You ok now?”

“Yeah,” Justin whispered as he sat up and rubbed his forehead. “It’s just kind of a shock.” Justin stared at his feet standing a few yards in front of him. When that no longer freaked him out, he let his eyes travel up his legs. The jeans his body was wearing were old and tight, and Justin skipped over the crotch and went directly to the torso. His body was standing still but the chest was moving a little quickly. Justin looked at his arms folded in front of the chest—they looked like they needed a little work. When Justin finally worked up the nerve to look himself in the eye, he found those eyes inspecting him, too.

“My God,” JC whispered. “It’s…incredible.”

“I guess.” Justin looked away, suddenly finding his own blue eyes a little too intense to keep gazing into. “Have you told anyone?”

JC relaxed a little and took a step toward the bed. “No. You?”

“What, so we can both be committed? Uh uh. No one would believe us anyway. I can barely believe it.” When JC didn’t answer, Justin looked up to find JC still staring at him. “What?”

“I’m just…looking at you. Me, really.” JC came closer and looked at his face. Justin shifted uncomfortably until JC sighed and whined, “Damn. My nose is huge!


Later, when JC had shuffled everyone out of the house per Justin’s instructions, Justin gently elbowed JC in the stomach and protested, “My nose is not big.”

“You’re wearing it now. Have you looked in the mirror?”

“Yeah. Well. Um, not really.”

They went into the master bathroom and cautiously approached the bright, wide vanity mirror. It was obvious neither of them had spent much time in the mirror since they’d swapped bodies. They stood shoulder to shoulder and looked at themselves.

“I think I’m even more freaked out than when it first happened,” JC whispered. “Like, it wasn’t real before, but…you’re in my body, man.”

Justin nodded and then grumbled, “I’m short now.”

“My feet are big now.”

“My hair is dark now,” Justin sighed.

“My hair is all extra curly now,” JC stated. He ran his fingers through the short curls. Justin looked at his/JC’s/their head and then suddenly found himself reaching out to touch. The minute he made contact his eyes started to fill. “Shit, J. What’s the matter?”

“I just…I don’t know. I haven’t…had my hair like this…” Justin sank his fingers into the short curls and massaged the scalp. JC’s eyes closed, and Justin’s eyes leaked. “You can’t…I don’t wear it like that now, C. You have to shave it, ok?” JC nodded and walked Justin back to the bedroom to sit him on the bed. “I’m sorry,” Justin sniffled. “I just…miss me.”

“It’s ok.” JC reached out to touch his/Justin’s/their shoulder, and when he felt his own trembling bicep, his eyes started to fill, too. He watched his own body slump forward, elbows on knees, and he wondered if he’d ever looked so graceful doing such a mundane action. “I guess I miss me, too.” Justin turned to look at JC rubbing his shoulder, at his own face offering compassion and comfort. It was all too weird, he had to look away again. “I’m sorry.”

“I know…I’m just tired.”

“You’re tired? I’ve had to be Justin Timberlake for the last few days—I’m exhausted!”

Justin smiled, almost laughed. “Well it’s no piece of cake being you, either. Your house is so noisy with your brother and all his friends, I haven’t been able to sleep well. And Eric is constantly calling…for meetings,” Justin added quickly, not wanting to bring up anything else yet. “I miss my house and my pool.” Justin looked around his bedroom longingly. “My bed.”

“How is Ty? Are you guys remembering to water my plants? Did you remind him to get a card for our aunt’s birthday next week?” Justin sighed and climbed onto his bed.

“I don’t know. I need a nap right now. Can we talk about it later?”

“Oh. Sure.” JC stood up and watched his own body stretch out limb by limb. “Um, don’t sleep on your left side or—”

“I’ll get a crick in my back. Got that one two nights ago!” Justin rolled under the covers and looked up at his own body staring at him from the foot of the bed. “I’m taking a nap before noon—am I turning into you?”

JC made Justin’s trademark toothy grin. “I don’t know, Justin.”

Hearing his own voice call him his own name sent a chill down Justin’s spine. “Um…we’ve really got to figure this out soon. I’ve got tour dates in a few weeks. We really have to—”

“We’ll figure it out. Don’t worry.” JC closed the blinds, because he could never sleep in such a sunny room, and went to the door. “We’ll work this out, ok?”

“Ok. JC.” JC flicked off the light switch and then left the room, pulling the door closed with shaking hands.


After arguing over what to eat for dinner for an hour, Justin and JC finally decided to order both Chinese and pizza. JC went to dig into a steaming carton of lo mein, but when the smell hit him he frowned and pushed it away.

“Oh, yeah,” Justin mumbled as he fumbled with chopsticks, “I never did like lo mein.”

JC felt vindicated when Justin threw up the few pork rinds he’d insisted on having before dinner. “Yeah, I don’t think my stomach can handle something that…greasy.”

“Oh, yeah?” Justin whimpered from the bathroom. “Well, my stomach can’t handle that red wine you’re drinking.” As if on cue, JC developed a bad headache. He went to bed in the guest room, and Justin triumphantly took over his own bed, once the house was empty of extra people.

It was JC’s turn to laugh the next morning when Justin had a raging case of gas after eating a ton of cereal and milk.

“Lactose intolerance.”

“I don’t remember you having lac—um, excuse me—tose intolerance back in the day,” Justin grumbled as he scuffled around the kitchen and waved his hand in front of his nose. JC made a face and tried not to think about what Justin’s eating habits were doing to his digestive system.

“I wasn’t then. As I’ve gotten older, though.”

“Yeah, you’ve gotten a few zits in your old age, too.”

“Those aren’t zits, Justin, they’re razor bumps.” JC walked over to inspect his own face. “Are you shaving correctly?”

“I know how to shave, C.”

“Not my face, you don’t. Here.” Justin sighed dramatically, but gave in and let JC lead him upstairs.

“No, J, you have to…here.” JC leaned in close and lifted Justin’s chin with his finger. He looked into the vanity mirror, but the reflection only confused him, so he stood between Justin and the mirror and lifted the razor to Justin’s chin. “Hold still.” Justin swallowed hard and closed his eyes. JC held Justin’s neck and slowly shaved upward with the sharp razor. “I’ve got such sensitive skin here, so it’s best to used a straight razor,” he whispered.

“Mmm,” Justin sighed. He was finding it difficult to look at his body shaving JC’s face, and finding it especially difficult to have JC standing so close to him, touching him. And very especially difficult because he hadn’t been touched much since he’d entered JC’s body.

Justin replayed that last thought in his head, and gulped.

“Trick is…to rinse the blade in very cold water,” JC continued as he carefully finished shaving Justin’s face. “If you want to, like, let it grow, I don’t mind.”

“Mmm. S’fine.”

JC placed the blade down and wiped a cold cloth along Justin’s face. “This feels good, doesn’t it?”

Justin simply nodded and leaned into JC.

“Are you sure you know how to do this?”

“I shave it every other day, so, yeah, I think I do!” Justin laughed as he pushed JC down on the closed toilet seat. “Close your eyes, C.”

“Can’t I just grow out your hair for a while?”

“No!” Justin turned on the clippers and pressed JC’s head down. “I always kind of wished I could take my head off to get the back!”

“Mmm.” JC held still while the hair clippers ran over his head, buzzing his 3 days worth of curlicues down to peach fuzz. “If you’d known you were going to be pulled into a Freaky Friday nightmare, who would you pick…if you had to?”

“Interesting question,” laughed Justin as he made long swipes down the sides of JC’s head. “I would say the richest man in the world, but he’s probably old and fat and likes to wear dead baby seal fur. Can I pick myself? Or maybe Brad Pitt…just, you know, don’t tell Jessica I said that!”

JC hated the burning he suddenly felt in his chest. “Funny. I guess it’s a silly thing to think about anyway. Nevermind.” He shut up and let Justin turn his head left and right. Then Justin turned him around and leaned close to get the nape of his neck. JC shivered at the hot breath on his back, even though it was coming from his own chest, his own lungs, his own mouth. But it was Justin that whispered, “Still…if I had to switch bodies with someone…I guess it’s good that it was you, JC.”

“Why’s th-that?”

“Because you’re…I don’t know…reasonably healthy. And…you know…reasonably good looking,” Justin laughed. JC didn’t laugh; he sighed and pressed closer to Justin.


They finally sat down with pen and paper to try to figure out what happened to them. They brainstormed for several minutes and then looked at their list of possible explanations:

Britney put a curse on Justin after “What goes around…” video

Cameron had rainforest shaman put hex on Justin for breaking up with her

Slash fan fiction writers’ collectively using “The Secret”

STD from outer space (contracted by JC–>6 degrees—>Jessica->Justin)

We’re in an extended, 1 week dream brought on by stress and bad drugs

Punk’d : the movie

We died and were immediately reincarnated as each other

“Why does it have to be me who caught an alien STD?” JC grumbled, tapping his pen on the kitchen table as he rubbed his hand over his new stubbly head. “Why couldn’t it have been you?”

“Because I haven’t been with any aliens,” Justin stated matter-of-factly.

“How do you know Jessica isn’t one?” JC laughed.

“How do you know I’m not what?” JC and Justin’s heads twirled cartoonishly to the kitchen doorway. Both men jumped to their feet as Jessica Biel dropped her purse and rushed over. JC was swept up into a large hug. Justin merely stood there with his arms uselessly outstretched.

“Hey…girl,” JC mumbled between kisses Jessica pressed to his cheek and lips. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Justin glowering at him.

“Why didn’t you call me when you got in, baby?” She gave her boyfriend one last kiss on the mouth and then composed herself enough to extend her hand to his friend. “Hi, I don’t know if we’ve really been introduced. I’m—”

“Jessica, yes, I know, um…hi!” Justin took his girlfriend’s hand and shook it vigorously. “It’s, um, nice to, like, um…meet. You.” He stared into her eyes, silently willing her to see through the slighter body and darker hair into his true self. JC rolled his eyes, and Jessica cleared her throat nervously.

“Yeah, you too, JC.” She dropped Justin’s hand and turned to JC. “Did you miss me, baby?” JC smiled politely and nodded. Justin looked at his girlfriend’s low-cut top and sighed. “Well, you can tell me all about how much you missed me over dinner,” Jessica trilled as she slid a hand around JC’s waist. “I know you’ve been dying to try this new sushi place, and I think Tom and Kate are taking Posh and Becks there tonight, too.”

“B-Becks?” Justin squeaked? Jessica looked at Justin’s forlorn face and went a little pink.

“I’m just going to run upstairs for a second and I’ll be ready to go.” Jessica patted Justin’s shoulder apologetically and rushed upstairs.

“Well,” JC stated after an uncomfortable pause. “I guess I should get ready—”

“JC, if you leave this house tonight without me I’m going to get your nose pierced!” Justin hissed as he grabbed JC by the shoulders. “She doesn’t know it’s not me—what if she tries to…what if she wants to—you can’t do anything with her, JC!”

“What kind of person do you think I am?” JC shrugged Justin away and walked over to inspect himself in the shiny brushed metal refrigerator. “I’m not gonna take advantage of your girlfriend, Justin.”

Justin sighed thankfully. “Thank you.”

“Right, so…if I can’t touch her, I guess I’ll just have to touch…someone else.”

Justin flicked a fingertip in his ear. “Um…what?”

It had just gone to 10pm when Justin heard one of his cars pulling into the garage. He stood like a father waiting up for his teenage daughter, arms crossed at the chest and foot tapping his annoyance into the kitchen floor. JC was smiling bashfully when he came in, and Justin started in with questions immediately.

“Where have you been? What did you do? Where’s Jessica? How could you do this to me? Did you make a pass at her? What did you eat? Were Posh and Becks there? Did you make a pass at Jessica? How’s my car? Why won’t you answer my questions? What’s in that bag? Did you kiss my girlfriend? Are you listening to me?”

JC looked at Justin’s arms flailing about during his interrogation, and it reminded him of someone he knew very well.

“Justin,” JC stated calmly. “I escorted your girlfriend to dinner, we had a fine time, I kissed her on the cheek and nothing more, I took her home, and I picked up a Fatburger for you on the way home in case you didn’t eat.” JC placed the hot greasy bag on the counter and walked towards the steps. Justin picked up the burger, but the smell that usually made his mouth water instead induced a feeling of queasiness.

“Thanks, C.”

JC turned around to see Justin rolling the bag up and frowning mournfully at it. “Shit, J. I didn’t even think of that. Fatburgers never did agree with me. And I never cared for sushi, but I liked it tonight. Want me to go out and get you some Chinese?”

Justin smiled as he tried to remember such generosity coming from his own, real lips. “No…but thanks.”

“For what? You can’t even eat it.”

“No, thanks for…taking out my girl and being a gentleman and all.” Justin walked over to JC and reached out to adjust his collar. “The collar on this shirt always sticks up.” But it looks awesome on you, Justin thought suddenly. “Did she want to come home with you?”

“Yeah, but I told her I was tired.” JC yawned and stretched, drawing Justin’s shirt tight across his chest. The material flitted gently against his chest, his belly, and his nipples, and JC suddenly knew why Justin liked the shirt so much. I bet it looks great on you, he thought as he fought a blush. “I guess I should tell you she, um…sort of…put her hand on my ass.”

“Thanks for telling me.”

“And she kissed my neck in the car.”

Justin took a cleansing breath. “Ok.”

“And she may have put her hand on my thigh,” JC murmured.

“Well, that’s not too bad—”

“And on my…um…you know.”

Justin counted to five before answering, “I understand. As long as it didn’t go further.”

“And it felt nice.” Before Justin could blow up, JC shrugged and added, “Look, Justin, I don’t plan on screwing your girlfriend, but…I can’t help it if she doesn’t know it’s me and keeps hitting on me. And I can’t help that I have needs. Why don’t we just tell her the truth?”

“Because she’d think I was insane and probably break up with me. Or she’d tell one of her friends and it’d end up on TMZ or something. Or maybe she’d…” Justin flung himself onto a barstool. “I don’t know…maybe she’d like you better. Like the kinder, gentler Justin or something.”

“I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or not,” JC replied.

“Come on, C, you know what I meant.”

“No, I don’t think I do. In any case, we need to figure this mess out now so we can get on with our lives.” JC went for the cabinet and took out Justin’s favorite cereal and a large bowl.

Justin motioned for JC to sit at the counter and he went to get the milk himself. As he poured some over a heap of Cap’n Crunch, Justin said softly, “I’m sorry, JC. I’m sorry for taking over your body, and I’m sorry that my girlfriend is trying to nail you. And I’m sorry for implying that you’re…gentler than I am. I meant that you’re…nicer than I am. More generous.” He went back to the fridge and mumbled, “Sweeter” as he opened the door.

JC lowered his eyes and ate the cereal that his stomach seemed to crave even if his brain didn’t. After a while he murmured, “I’m sorry, too. For taking over your body, and using your credit card and embarrassing you with my clothes in London. And for making you worry that I’d get together with Jessica.” Nothing was said for a little while, but the tension that had been present since Jessica showed up hours earlier seemed to be gone.

“Look,” Justin stated after they’d collapsed on couches in a family room, “we’re gonna figure this out and fix our lives back. But we’ve got to work fast. I’ve got the next leg of my tour starting in only a few weeks, and if we don’t change back I’ll have to postpone it. And you’ve got your alb—you’ve got your career to take care of. So we’ve got to come up with a game plan.”

JC threw his arms over his eyes and tried not to think about his album getting dusty sitting on Jive’s shelf. “What do you suggest?” Justin flew away and returned a few minutes later with pen and paper and started scribbling down yet another list. After 20 minutes, he showed it to JC.

Dealing with this Freaky Friday Fuckup:

1. Cancel as much as possible until we’re back to normal

2. Have hourly daily powwows

3. Find out who did this and kill punish them and make them fix us back

While J.C. is inside in control of commanding being Justin, JC must abide by the following:


2. JC is to hit the gym with trainer at least 4 times every week for 1 hour

3. In addition to J.B., JC is to have no sexual relations with **ANYONE ELSE**

4. JC must wear Justin’s clothes and pre-approve clothing all purchases over $25 with Justin

5. JC must allow Justin to live in his own house and make necessary excuses to staff

6. Justin must accompany JC to all business meetings either in person or by phone/text

7. JC must not make any life decisions that could negatively affect Justin’s future

8. Any recordings or appearances JC makes remain sole property of Justin or Tennman Inc.

9. JC must make daily phone calls to Justin’s mother and never tell another soul

10. Justin is NEVER to have any sexual/romantic/homoerotic contact with manager Eric

*in addition to sex, also includes kissing on mouth, any bases, hand holding, dry humping, long lingering looks across rooms, foot massages, tongues in ears, slow dancing, mutual self-gratification, phone sex, cyber sex, exotic dancing, dressing up, and naked baking.

JC snickered as he read down the list, but when he came to number 10 he turned blood red.

“What’s the matter?”

“Eric…” JC cleared his throat and whispered, “What did Eric say to you?”

Justin sat on the couch next to JC. “It wasn’t what he said as much as what he did.” JC blushed again and looked down at the paper in his hands. “He tried to, um, kiss me and stuff.” JC nodded, clearly embarrassed. “He implied you two were in an open…thing…and when I told him I couldn’t, he said when you figure out what you want, to tell him. And then he stormed out.”

“I see.”

“I’m sorry I pissed off your boyfr—”

“He’s not my b—it’s not like that.” JC groaned as he stood up and started to pace. “It just sorta happened. I wasn’t seeing anybody, and he’s hot…I mean. I don’t know what I mean.” JC ran his hand over his nearly bald head. “Look, um, don’t tell anybody, J. I don’t need to give Perez Hilton any more ammo.”

Justin looked up into his own worried face. “Of course not. I just didn’t know you were, um…seeing guys…exclusively.”

JC stared down into his own confused face. “I’m not…exclusively.”

“So you…go both ways?

“So you’re just figuring that out?” JC giggled nervously.

“I don’t know. I guess not.”

“Does that matter? I mean, do you care?”

“Shit, JC. C’mon.” Justin jumped up and opened his arms. “Let’s hug it out, bitch.”

“That’s so ‘04,” JC laughed as he stepped into Justin’s arms. Then the hug came, and JC realized he was in his own arms, leaning against his own chest, looking down his own back. He had the feeling momentarily of looking in a mirror with his head on backwards, and it was almost disorienting. Almost…and then it was just odd, but in a cool, dreamy way. So JC held on, tightened his hold on himself, and himself tightened back. He smiled, and then he felt himself—Justin chuckle.

“This is really fucking weird!” Justin laughed.

“Yeah.” JC tucked his chin over Justin’s shoulder and took a deep breath. Justin did the same. Suddenly JC realized they were pressed together, above and below the waist. He held his breath, waiting for the sense of oddfamiliarconfusininteresting to pass, waiting for his pulse to return to normal. But it only grew, and it intensified when he felt Justin’s breath on his neck. JC found himself rubbing Justin’s back, making gentle circles over the spots he always loved to have touched. He heard his own familiar sigh, but it was Justin responding, and then he found himself pressing a little more.

“That’s…nice,” Justin whispered.

“Yeah, I, um, always did like it like that.” JC gulped, but Justin didn’t deter him, and he didn’t stop breathing warmly on JC’s neck.


“What’s the matter?”

“No, I just…I guess I just miss my body,” Justin replied into JC’s shoulder. “It’s all I know, and now I don’t have it and…”

“You feel a little lost without it.” Justin squeezed JC a little tighter. “I know, J. I guess I miss my body, too.” When they didn’t move and it started to feel really strange that they weren’t moving, JC chuckled, “Well, at least I get to be taller now.”

“Yeah.” Justin stepped back out of the hug and ran his hands over his short dark hair. “And I’m a hell of a lot more flexible, man.” He went a little pink and murmured, “Thanks” with his eyes on the floor. JC watched him shift weight nervously and touched his shoulder to calm him.

“You want me to show you some stretches I do every day? It helps my back…if you want…I mean, I don’t know if your back has been bothering you or anything.”

Justin smiled and stretched. “Show me in the morning.”

“Ok. Goodnight.” JC watched Justin go upstairs to sleep in a guestroom in his own house. Something about that made JC warm all over.


iPhone TextMakr

From: TheReelC

To: TheReelJ

Just came from the opening of your new restaurant. Everything went well, and I wore what you told me to, as you can see in the enclosed pics.

Question: Why “Southern Hospitality?” Isn’t that kind of, uh, clichéd? What about “Deep South Dining?” Or “Antebellum Eating?” Or how about “Miss Anne and Mister Charlie’s?”

Trace and I discussed it, and we’re gonna change the name next week to “Jim Crow’s Kitchen!”

He also agreed that William Rast needs a line of turquoise man-jewelry.



Cingular TextTool

From: The Hotness

To: The Imposter

You think you’re funny, but you’re so far behind you think you’re first! (I watched some of your DVDs, and that Shortbus was cool…once you get past all the man-on-man stuff)

Thanks for taking care of the restaurant launch for me. There’s gonna be a Tennman conference call later today, and when you get back I need you to go to my lawyer’s office to pick up some stuff. Eric got you an invite to the Simpsons premiere coming up. I talked to someone I don’t know from Jive, and they just said the same old shit: Nothing. Sorry, man.

A hot brunette chick was flirting with me last night, but I didn’t know if you would be interested now. Plus, it was weird. Felt too much like cheating on my girl.

I talked to Joey. He asked about you and Eric. So did everyone know about your preferences but me?

Peace, and don’t forget my morning crunches!

iPhone TextMakr

From: TheReelC

To: TheReelJ

Please remind Eric to look into breaking my Jive contract. Don’t push, just remind him.

Thanks, J, but please don’t go scheming on hotties for me. You’ll end up having me engaged to some blonde wannabe actress type! J Nah, just, our tastes are different, and, like you said, you shouldn’t be flirting with anyone. Unless you see someone you think I’ll like!

Joey knew because he asked. If you’d asked I would have told you. Probably. And I’m doing your damn crunches.

Am I supposed to go to your tour rehearsals? What if I have to go on your tour?

Talked to Jessica last night. She started talking a little dirty, so I hung up. Lucky for you, this hotel doesn’t have gay porn.


Cingular TextTool

From: The Hotness

To: The Imposter

Ain’t this a bitch? 2 hot, single guys and neither one of us can get with anybody. We’re living like priests (minus the molestation). I’m gonna have serious blue balls when this is over. AND SO WILL YOU!

We don’t have to do much rehearsal before this leg starts, but just in case, I need you there.

Must I remind you, no phone sex with my girl? And no gay porn! In fact, no porn at all!

Call me tonight so I can hear my own voice!


Two weeks into being Justin Timberlake, JC finally decided to see just exactly he could get away with.

“Johnny! It’s, uh, it’s Justin.”

“Duh, like I don’t know your voice! What’s up, my man?” Justin’s current—and JC’s former—manager joked into the phone, like he was actually happy to hear from his client. JC clenched his jaw and cleared his throat.

“I’ve um, like, I was watching Heidi the other day and like, was thinking that it would be cool if, like, on my next album, I incorporated, um…well…I want to have a couple of songs that use yodeling,” JC said enthusiastically, trying to remember how Justin used to be in the studio back in the *Nsync days. He paused and then stated, “Yodeling, Johnny. Yodeling.”

“I see,” Johnny said. “Let me get back to you.”

“Sure.” JC hanged up the phone and had a nice long laugh. He imagined the Jive people running around like chickens with their heads cut off, trying to figure out how to say “no” to their number 1 artist—their only artist, as far as they were concerned. JC took a shower and waited for the call, wondering how he could record it for posterity.

When he got out of the shower, there was a message for him. He expected contrite, apologetic, subservient, reluctant but firm rejection from Johnny. He expected a message full of explanations about product placement and marketing and just plain outright stupidity.

What he got was a message from Johnny’s assistant: “Justin, Johnny wanted me to let you know that he’s on a plane to Zurich right now to get you Ulf Langehosenschlange, the world famous Swiss yodeling champion and hip hop DJ. This guy is wanted by Interpol right now, but he left a message on his blog saying he’s excited to work with you. You might even get to record with him in prison! We’re also seeing if we can get Dolly Parton, Jewel, and Eminem on this project. Oh, and Andrew Lloyd Weber is still waiting on you to decide if you want to star in his Silence of the Lambs musical. He said you can have any part you want. He even said they can make it so that you play all the main characters yourself! This thing is going to be huge, and he’s writing it just for you! They sent over a rough cut of the first song, ‘It rubs the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again.’ He says it’s the most important work he’s ever done—”

JC slammed the phone down.

After a few days of faking his way through return calls to JC’s friends, Justin decided to see just what he could get away with. He called Chris and swallowed the discomfort he felt at talking to his former best friend for the first time in months.

“So, nervous about the Man Group thing coming?”

“You mean Mission Man Band, doofus?” Chris laughed. “Yeah, sort of. But I’m thinking positive, just like you told me last time we talked, C.”

“Yeaaah, last time.” Justin coughed loudly. “So, um…when we talked last time, did we…um…I forgot if we talked about if you, um, said anything on the show about, um, *Nsync. Or Justin. At all.”

Chris snickered. “What’s wrong with you, C? You smoking weed with Justin’s mom or something?” Justin held his breath; he’d almost forgotten about that time he’d partied with his mom in public. “I already told you everything I said on camera about the group. It should all be in the first episode.”

“Yeah, I know, I know,” Justin lied. “So, like, are you and J talking?”

Chris sighed. “Not lately. I’m sure he’s too busy to bother with the old backup singer.”

Justin felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. “Yeah, I know he’s busy, but…maybe he thinks you don’t want to talk to him or something.” When there was silence for a bit, Justin cleared his throat and mumbled, “I bet he misses you, man.”

“Yeah, right.” It hurt to hear, and hurt more when Chris added, “I admit, I miss the band and the life and, you know, even Justin, but…it’s in the past. I gotta move on…just like he did.”

Justin ended the call quickly and then quickly dialed Lance. “Lance, it’s JC. Kick ass on Broadway. Oh, by the way, doyouthinkJustinisanasshole?”

“Well,” Lance bellowed in his deep voice, “um…yeah!”

Justin preferred it when Lance lied through his teeth. He wasn’t yet used to brutal truth Lance. “Well, do you resent him for, you know, bailing out on *Nsync?”

“Not anymore, I don’t think. Where is this coming from, JC?”

“Just wondering. Just felt like having a gossip fest today, that’s all.”

“Oh! I don’t know much new gossip. Just the usual: Britney is a horrible mom, Lindsay is a cokehead, Justin is buying his new girlfriend a promise ring—”

“He what?” Justin shrieked. “I mean, where did you hear that?”

“I don’t know. Around,” Lance replied nonchalantly. “He’s probably worried Perez Hilton will try to out him or something—”

“But I’m no—how can someone out him if he’s never been in?”

Lance chuckled. “JC, what’s wrong with you, man? It’s not a big deal. If Justin bought his girl a promise ring—even though that’s something people do in high school—I’m sure he did it because he loves his girlfriend, and not because he wants to assuage her fear about his sexuality, or even to just try to stall her from talking about getting engaged for real. Isn’t that what he always does?”

“I…I gotta go.” Justin clicked off the phone and stared at the wall.


When JC returned to Justin’s house and walked into Justin’s bedroom to find Jessica Biel in lingerie and stiletto heels, he knew that something would have to be done.

“We haven’t made love in so long!” she murmured as she kissed his neck and rubbed the tips of his ears. The sensation made JC giggle, which made her frown. “What’s the matter? You always love when I do this. C’mon, baby. I missed you.” She tried to kiss him, but JC turned away.

“I’m just tired after my flight from New York,” he sputtered as he sat on Justin’s bed. Before he knew it he had a lapful of Biel.

“You’ve been tired an awful lot lately,” Jessica proclaimed as she swayed her hips to an inaudible beat. “Ever since we were in Europe together, actually. What’s wrong, Justin?”

“N-nothing,” JC offered. It was hard to be convincing though, when he kept shifting when she touched his chest or kissed him.

“Then why haven’t we had sex since Europe? We haven’t done anything in weeks! You’ve barely kissed me!”

JC tried to think of a good excuse, but all he could do was sputter, “Uh…I just…can’t…um.” Jessica stared at him closely.

“Is there someone else?”

“No! No, not at—no. Uh uh, no.”

Jessica pressed herself down against JC and caressed his chest at the same time, smiling when she felt evidence of her effect on her boyfriend’s body. “Well, well. At least we know the equipment still works.” JC blushed furiously, but he didn’t push her off. As wrong as he knew it was, as bad as he felt for letting Justin’s girlfriend grind him, he knew the state he was in was beyond his control. He hadn’t had any sexual contact since right before the body swap, and he’d barely had any physical contact with anyone in the weeks since. And he was still getting used to being in a foreign body and its different libido. The fact was that he was horny beyond belief, and Justin’s rules had pretty much tied JC’s hands behind his back. So when she tried to kiss him again, he let her…until she whispered, “For a second I was worried you were going to say you were gay.”

Deflated and for once happy about it, JC made an excuse about running an urgent errand and flew out of the house.

When Justin came out of a long shower he noticed a sound he had yet to hear in JC’s house—silence. He called out from the bedroom and realized that he was alone for the first time since the body swap.

“About freaking time,” he grumbled as he toweled himself off. He didn’t know how JC lived with the noise of his brother, his brother’s friends, and their girlfriends. Justin’s house usually had people in it, but it was so massive that he could always find privacy somewhere. With JC out of town Justin couldn’t really explain being at his own house, so he’d returned to JC’s house days earlier, only to face questions from Tyler. He’d said they were working on music, but he could tell Tyler didn’t quite buy it.

“Man, this has got to end soon or I’ll go crazy!” Justin told his reflection. He dried off his hair and tossed the towel aside. When he looked back at himself, he noticed a zit on his cheek. And a mole on his shoulder. He leaned closer and studied the dark hairs on his chest and the smaller-than-he-was-used-to pecs. “I gotta hit the gym.” Then he twisted to the side and checked out his nicely toned arms. “Or maybe not.” He’d not really looked at himself naked before; he’d been afraid to, and hadn’t had the opportunity in either house. He stepped back and checked out his back and ass. Then he turned around and caught a glimpse of his/JC’s junk. “Oh.” He suddenly felt very uncomfortable for staring at JC’s genitals, so he walked away from the mirror. He put on the radio and just walked around, first in the bedroom and then venturing out to the hallway. Calling out again to make sure no one was around, Justin rushed downstairs to the kitchen. The beer he’d been thinking about didn’t appeal to him once the refrigerator door was open, but the wine did.

After a leisurely naked stroll around the house, Justin sat down on JC’s huge bed and sipped his wine. The radio was on a smooth jazz station, and that with the wine had a calming effect on Justin. He hadn’t really felt calm since he’d woken up in JC’s body. So he took advantage of the quiet moment to finish the wine and try a few of the stretches JC had shown him.

Breathing deeply, he moved into different positions, first standing and then on the floor, enjoying the stretches his own body could never accommodate. He curled up and hugged his knees to his chest, then dared to lift his legs and hips up off the floor. Arms supporting his lower back, Justin slowly let his legs lower over his head, humming as his back stretched out vertebrae by vertebrae. His toes went out of view, then his knees, and then Justin found himself staring JC’s cock in the eye. It dangled down at Justin’s face like it had some sort of intent. Justin couldn’t help staring at it, especially when it seemed to blush and stiffen. He wanted to hold still, close his eyes, and just stretch. But the more he stretched, the more relaxed he felt, the more he wondered if JC could, maybe, stretch more…all the way. He took a deep breath, cleared his mind of homophobic panic, and tucked his hips in and his neck up. JC’s cock seemed to stretch towards Justin’s mouth, and he bit his lip to stop from slobbering. Closer…just…a few more inches…and—

When noise downstairs interrupted Justin’s attempt at auto/not-quite-auto-fellatio, and Justin realized he was both relieved and disappointed, he knew that something would have to be done.

“Jus—um, I mean, JC? Are you here?” JC called out as he banged on the back door. “I, uh, JC gave me the security code, that’s how I got in the gate, but I, um, don’t have a key or anything,” he explained to the door and to anyone else in earshot. “Hello?” There was a loud noise that sounded like it came from upstairs, and then very faint cursing, and then loud thudding footsteps.

“What!” Justin spat as he threw open the door. Once he saw it was JC, he grunted, “Oh, hi,” and pulled his bathrobe tighter against his body. “What are you doing here?”

“Um, it’s my house!”

“Yeah, sorry, I was just—come on in, man.” Justin stood back to let JC inside. He smelled something familiar when JC brushed past him. “What is that?” JC shrugged, and Justin came closer, pressing his nose within a hair of JC’s neck. He inhaled a few times until he caught the scents of 3 people: JC, Jessica, and himself. He turned away so JC couldn’t see the blush that came when he realized he didn’t know which scent turned him on more. “You were with Jessica?”

“Oh, um, yeah. She was at your house when I got back. She…” JC wrestled with how to tell Justin that his girlfriend had turned him on, if only a little. “She missed you a lot. And she, um, needs…you.” He avoided Justin’s eyes and instead focused on his own house, which he hadn’t seen since the body swap. “I didn’t know how to, um, turn her down so I left. How did you know I was with her? You smelled her?”

“Yeah. Your neck smells like her, and your hair smells like you, and your clothes smell like me,” Justin admitted before he could think about what he was saying. “I mean, just that, you know, since you’re wearing my clothes and stuff. That’s what I meant.” Justin groaned at his bumbling and walked away from his own body that seemed to suddenly be emanating warmth. “How is she? Did she say how her movie promotions are going?”

“Um, ok, I guess.”

Justin sat on a barstool and crossed his legs firmly. “What do you mean you guess?”

“Well, we didn’t talk much.” When Justin’s eyebrows started to knot, JC threw his arms up and confessed. “Look, Justin, she hasn’t had sex with you in weeks, and she’s pretty strong. She sat in my lap and she was wearing lingerie and she was grinding on me and…I couldn’t help it, ok?”

Justin’s eyes went wide. “Couldn’t help what, JC?”

“Couldn’t help…getting…a little…um…aroused?” JC rubbed his fuzzy head apologetically. “I stopped, and nothing happened, and I didn’t touch her or anything. But, you know, I haven’t been with anyone in weeks, either—”

“You think that makes it alright that you got a hard on for my girlfriend?”

“Well, what do you expect, Justin?” JC yelled. “I’m not allowed to fool around with your girlfriend or anyone else for that matter, and I can’t even get off with my own two hands!” Shoulders slumped, JC sighed and parked his embarrassed ass in the stool next to Justin. “Well, I certainly didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

“Oh.” Justin recrossed his legs. “So…you haven’t been…um…you know. With yourself?”

JC went pink and looked down at his feet. “I tried, but…it didn’t work too well. I couldn’t ever get a good, uh, grip. Or something.” They both giggled and blushed at the same time. “I guess it didn’t feel like me.”

“Well, you’ve jerk—I mean, you’ve…handled other…guy’s junk before, right?”

JC slipped off the stool and went to the refrigerator. “What’s your point?”

“I don’t know, just that touching another guy’s dick shouldn’t be too strange for you,” Justin mumbled. JC didn’t look at him as he poured himself some juice. Justin was tempted to push; now that JC was out—to him, at least—his reticence to discuss his same sex experiences didn’t make sense to Justin. “Anyway, I know what you mean, C. I’m in the same boat as you, remember?”

JC smiled at Justin in a way that bordered on flirtatious. “You…can’t get off either?”

“No, it’s not…I mean I haven’t…um…really tried yet.”

“Is that so?” JC didn’t believe that for a second. He knew Justin wouldn’t touch Eric, and unless he was fooling around with another woman, the only sexual outlet he’d have had since the swap was his own hand. “You’re telling me you haven’t at least tried to jerk off once since this happened?”

Justin looked down at his lap and blushed. “I don’t do it that much, C. I never did.” Then he smiled cockily and added, “I never had to.” JC rolled his eyes and walked into the living room. Justin followed, watching JC look at his own house, touch his own furniture, look at his own pictures. “You miss the house?”

“Yeah. I even miss my brother.” JC looked around sadly and then headed upstairs. Justin found him sitting on his bed, looking sadly down at the floor where only minutes earlier Justin had tried to blow himself. Justin sat down next to JC and nudged his shoulder.

“Sorry about that…what I said before. I didn’t mean it to sound like I get so much sex that I don’t need…auto-erotic stimulation.”

“But isn’t that true?”

“Well…yeah!” JC smiled, and Justin suddenly missed his own teeth very badly. “Still, I didn’t mean for that to come out so bitchy, so, sorry.” JC nodded his acceptance, but he still looked kind of sad. “But you know me, C. I was never much into that as most guys. So maybe there’s something wrong with me, huh? Maybe I’ve been doing it wrong all these years!”

JC looked at Justin with soft eyes and murmured, “Maybe you just need someone to show you how to do it.” JC realized that he was flirting with his own body, which was both scary and completely normal. The fact that he was flirting with Justin was just plain scary, so he looked away and mumbled, “Don’t pay attention to anything I say, alright? I’m just so fucking frustrated I can barely think straight.”

The words I can barely think straight coming out of Justin’s own mouth sent shivers of confusion and curiosity through Justin’s/JC’s body.

“Maybe, um, that’s the same problem you’re having, C. Like, that, you’re not getting…um…results…because you don’t know my bod—how I respond to stuff. And vice versa.” Justin could barely get the words out, but when JC perked up a little, Justin got the nerve to press onward. “Like, ok. How many times have you…tried?”

JC closed his eyes as he thought. “How many days have we been in this mess?”

Justin frowned at him. “Every day? You jerk off every damn day, C?”

“Not usually,” JC replied mousily.

“Ok, then. First, you need to stop trying so much. My junk ain’t used to so much manhandling!” JC just nodded, which made Justin feel sort of bad for implying that JC was sex-crazed. “Maybe we just have different techniques.”

“I hadn’t thought of that, J.” JC straightened up a bit and finally met Justin’s eyes. “What do you like, J? Like, do you do it, um, underhanded? Slow? Fast?” JC’s voice lowered to a whisper. “What do you think about when you touch yourself?” Justin looked into his own eyes, and for once he couldn’t look away. Didn’t want to.

“I think about…my…girlfriend.” Justin slid a hand behind his back and crossed his fingers.

“Anything else?”

“I don’t know. Just random, nameless, faceless hot chicks, I guess.” JC nodded and offered a little smile. “What do you, um, think about?”

“Same thing as you,” JC lied as he moved quickly to his dresser. He brought back a small bottle and dropped it in Justin’s lap, smiling bashfully as he admitted, “If you’re looking to just get off, like, really fast, then you can use this. It’s just scented massage oil, but, it’s got a very specific scent. Just, like, rub some on your fingertips and on your…um…anywhere, and…you’ll be good to go.” JC sat down again and covered his pink face with one hand. “This is like beyond embarrassing!”

“Tell me about it. Thanks, for this.” Justin pocketed the small bottle and folded his hands over his knees that he kept re-crossing. “I don’t know if I have anything like that at my house. I can tell you which porno I like to watch a lot!”

“No thanks, J. I doubt we have the same taste in porn.”

“Yeah, but…it’s not about what you want, it’s about what my body wants…right?” JC smiled and nodded. “Ok, well, if you tell anyone I’ll never speak to you again, ok? Look in my closet for a big box of old mismatched socks and T-shirts and stuff. Underneath all that are a couple of movies that, um, you can watch.” It was Justin’s turn to blush, but he didn’t hide his face. “Oh, and you should put the grey silk sheets on the bed. They’re slippery and cool and good for…that kind of thing. You know?”

“I was never much into that sort of, um, friction,” JC said softly. “But I can try. Maybe I just never had the right thread count!”

“Maybe.” Justin exhaled deeply and relaxed a bit. “This whole experience just keeps getting weirder by the minute. One day we’re lying to our significant others, the next we’re demonstrating our masturbation techniques!”

JC smiled and scooted closer to Justin on the bed. “If you really want to know…here.” He took Justin’s wrist and lifted it up and extended the index and middle fingers. Then he wrapped his hand around Justin’s fingers and squeezed just a little as he rubbed his thumb up and down. “Do it like this,” he murmured. Justin held his breath as he watched JC gently pump his fingers like it was a phallus. “Then…um…you should lick your fingers…like this.” JC pulled Justin’s hand toward his mouth and slipped his tongue out to mime licking his own fingers. A wee gasp slipped from Justin at the sight of his own tongue—now he kind of got what all the fans had been squealing about over the years. Then JC rubbed the pretend saliva-slick thumb over the tip of Justin’s pretend cock. The gasp this time quickly turned into a desperate moan.

“J-Jace? What are you d-doing?”

“Showing you how to please yourself.” JC said it like it was the simplest thing in the world, with a calm, steady voice. But inside he was practically shaking. Justin’s hand was shaking, but he didn’t stop JC from stroking his fingers in a torrid manner. JC kept waiting for Justin to tell him to stop. The whole thing was getting out of control, and he just knew Justin was going to push him away…any second now. He figured Justin didn’t want to hurt his own body, so that’s why he wasn’t punching him out or shoving him or stopping him. Just to make sure that was the reason, JC pushed just a little: “You might also want to…um…play with my—I mean your nipples a lot while you’re doing it. I like that a lot.”

“Oh. Ok.” JC noticed that Justin’s gaze kept wandering to their hands simulating something that they both needed to do. And he also noticed that Justin was wearing his favorite bathrobe, the one that hanged loose and clung tight in all the right places, the one that liked to draw up a little too high when he sat down. JC glanced down briefly to Justin’s lap. He didn’t know why his heart started racing; in his own body, even at 30, he’d get hard at the slightest breeze if he was deprived of sex for too long. JC stared at the outline of his penis stiffening in Justin’s lap, and knowing that it was Justin feeling it made him miss it even more…made him suddenly want to share it.


Justin swallowed and finally raised his eyes to JC. “Yeah?”

JC took a short breath and whispered, “Have you ever wanted to…have you ever wondered what it would be like to…kiss…yourself?” JC forced himself to keep looking into Justin’s eyes, his own eyes, even though any second he’d start to sweat. “It’s something no one else has ever done, isn’t it?” JC held his breath. He really expected Justin to frown, proclaim his ultra-heterosexuality, jump off the bed, and start ranting and raving. He half expected Justin to smile crookedly, pucker up, and then laugh and throw a “just kidding” in his face. What he wasn’t expecting at all was Justin licking his lips, smiling shyly, and ever so slowly leaning toward him. JC mentally netted the butterflies in his stomach and began to lean in, too.

JC could have ignored the door slamming downstairs, but his brother’s off-key singing scared him out of what might have been a very nice moment. He jumped to his feet and adjusted himself in the mirror, wiping the moisture from his lips and adjusting his suddenly crotch-tight pants. Justin looked a little scared, too, but instead of standing he grabbed a pillow from the bed and shoved it over his lap. They avoided looking at each other as Tyler stumbled upstairs and knocked on the doorframe.

“Bro, who’s car is that in the—oh. Hey, Justin.” Tyler acknowledged JC with barely a head nod, which made JC both angry and sad.

“Hi, Tyler!” JC rushed over and shook his brother’s hand. “Haven’t seen you in a while. How are you? How’s school?”

Tyler looked at the face and body of Justin Timberlake suspiciously. “Um…fine.” He looked at the face and body of his brother and asked, “How’s that song coming?”

Before JC could ask, Justin stammered, “Very slow. In fact, I think we need to work on it again tonight, Justin. I’ll be over later.”

“Ok. Later, then.” Neither of them looked at each other when they spoke. JC smiled at his brother, barely resisted giving him a big hug, and then waved goodbye and rushed out the door. Tyler watched him go and then turned to Justin with a critical eye.

“I know you said you two are working on new material, but…aren’t you spending an awful lot of time over at his house lately? Isn’t he on tour or something? How does he have time to have all night songwriting sessions with you, be king of the world, and screw Jessica Alba at the same time?”

Justin fumed. “It’s Biel, jackass.”

“That’s not the point, C. Am I missing something? Do you guys think that by working together that Jive will finally release your album or something?”

“No.” Justin hanged his head, ashamed that he didn’t think of that himself. “We’re just…working on stuff that’s taking longer than we planned. And we’re, like, bonding.”

“Bonding. You have to sleep at his house in order to bond?”

“You’d rather have me drive home after drinking and shit for hours?” Justin spat.

“No, of course not. I’m just…concerned.” Tyler looked down at the robe and flushed cheeks his brother was wearing. “I know that things are still kind of raw between you and Justin after he fucked you guys over with *Nsync and everything.” Justin bit his tongue and just nodded. “And I know how much you want to fix your friendship with him and shit. And I’m not giving you shit about it, ok? I think he’s an ass, but…you’ve always had this thing about that guy.”

Justin’s ears perked up. “What? What do you—”

“I’m just saying that, um. Your feelings about Justin have always been, uh, complicated. You like him, you hate him, you’re proud of him, you feel bad for him, you—I get it, ok? I just don’t want to see you getting all twisted up about him, man.” Tyler’s face softened and he placed a gentle hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I don’t want you to get hurt, JC.”

“I’d never hurt—I mean, I don’t know what…how do you know that…shit.” Justin couldn’t find the words. Tyler had to be just fucking with him. He had to be. “Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Justin and I are working on some stuff, and we’re friends who haven’t been able to spend time together for many years, so we’re catching up right now. Justin is my friend, and that’s all this is. He’d never hurt me. He couldn’t hurt me. He’s my friend.”

The smirk returned to Tyler’s face. “Do you know how many times you just said the word ‘friend’ in that little harangue? Defensive, much?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Tyler!” Justin snapped. “It’s none of your business anyway.”

“Unbelievable.” Tyler shook his head and walked toward the door. Justin suddenly felt kind of guilty, leaving JC alone in his big house with his horny girlfriend, separated from his own brother.

“I’m sorry, ok. Just…don’t worry about me. Everything’s smooth.”

Tyler turned around and peered at his brother’s face. “See, that’s the thing. You don’t even sound like you anymore, bro. These last few weeks since you’ve been seeing so much of Justin, you’ve been acting really strange. Like you’re not yourself.” Justin nearly laughed. “If you say you’re just working together, that you’re not getting too…attached…then I’ll believe you, bro.”

There were a million questions Justin wanted to ask, but he only allowed himself to say, “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Tyler left the room saying, “I still don’t get you two. It’s just…weird.”

Justin sighed and started mentally picking out an outfit for later. “You have no idea.”


JC stalled as long as he could, but driving around in Justin’s convertible in Justin’s body eventually started turning too many heads with cameras attached, so he finally returned to Justin’s mansion. Relieved that Jessica was gone, JC turned his attention to the messages and mail that had collected while he was gone. It occurred to him to just let them wait until things were back to normal, but he really had no idea when that would be. Justin was about to go back on the road again, and they were still no nearer to figuring out what happened to them. JC started to feel overwhelmed, a feeling he was getting used to, so he had some food and decided to go to bed. He climbed the steps and bypassed the guest room he’d taken over and went right for the master bedroom.

The grey sheets were in a dresser drawer instead of the linen closet. JC rubbed them over his face before putting them on Justin’s bed, the whole time telling himself that he was just going to sleep.

The movies were right where Justin said they were. The DVDs featuring Amazonian, large breasted, peroxide-addicted ladies on the covers didn’t intrigue JC, but the one on the very bottom did. It was a DVD+RW with the words “MFM” scribbled on it in magic marker.

It was a new experience for JC—the slippery, crisp, cool sheets he was climbing onto naked, the unknown movie coming to life on the TV across the room, the body with different sensitive areas and erogenous zones to learn. The compact vanity mirror he placed on the nightstand was something new, too. For a short time he’d had mirrors on the ceiling over his bed in Orlando, just for fun, and mostly to get a different view of the person he was with. He’d never before watched himself alone. He’d never wanted to watch himself…but it wasn’t himself he wanted to watch.

There was no menu on the DVD. Once JC hit play it went right into a typical straight porno scene. JC stretched out on his side and watched. If he was still in his own body, and hadn’t been without sex for over two weeks, the scene would have bored him. This time, though, it was enough to get his heart beating. JC sighed and rubbed at his chest and belly. It felt nice, the bigger, tighter body. The nipples weren’t as sensitive as his own, but with just a little saliva on the fingers, he quickly fondled them to hard peaks. Eyes closed, he slid on his back and let his hands travel over the heavy, taut, long, sexy body of his friend of 16 years. When his hand slipped around the thickness between his legs, he gasped as Justin’s face came into his mind.

“Damn. Justin.” He opened his eyes and looked down at his body…Justin’s body. It was a bit confusing, wondering if he was really jerking off himself, Justin, or the both of them. He decided not to dwell on it, but instead focus on the heat in his chest, his legs, his mouth, his cock. When JC looked back at the TV he saw a second man enter the scene, the woman lying like a wide, safe, still straight bridge between them. Typical, JC thought. Then the two mean leaned across the woman’s body and started kissing. “Oh!” JC smiled and slid another hand between his legs.

Justin walked into his house and went straight for the refrigerator. He didn’t want to think about why his mouth was so dry, or why he’d labored over what to wear. The jeans he’d found were old, the T-shirt faded, and JC’s sandals were beyond crunchy. But the jeans made his back look good…his front even better. The T-shirt was made of some weird material that his nipples loved. And the sandals made him feel like he was walking on a cloud. Justin downed water quickly and paced his cold kitchen barefoot. The cloud feeling was still there, so he took a deep breath and headed upstairs.

The master bedroom door was closed, but through it Justin could hear two familiar sounds: his secret semi-favorite porn movie, and his own wanton sex moans.

“Oh my…” It occurred to Justin that he could just walk away—run away—and never tell JC he was there. Or he could go downstairs, ring the bell, and let JC stop and endure the frustration of being interrupted—just like he had earlier. Neither of those ideas appealed to him, especially not when the moans got louder, loud enough to cover the sound of Justin opening the door.

The only light in the room came from the small TV on the far side and from the lamp on the nightstand. It was enough for Justin to make out the form of his own body moving rhythmically against the bed, the sheets and a pillow crumpled up beneath JC’s pulsing hips. Justin’s eyes went from the bisexual daisy chain on the screen to the man alternately watching and pressing his face down into the bed he was humping. Justin expected that those sheets felt like soft tongues slipping and sliding against JC’s skin. He expected that the hand pressed underneath JC’s thrusting hips was stroking the same way he’d witnessed on his own fingers earlier. He expected that JC needed to get off, badly. What he didn’t expect was JC placing a mirror next to his face and sighing, “Oh…J…” into it.

At first Justin wanted to laugh, but after a second he realized it wasn’t funny. And then JC kept saying his name as he grinded his erection into the bed. Then JC rolled onto his back and thrust his hips up into his cupped hands, licking his lips and sighing loudly at the same time. Justin held his breath. No, it wasn’t funny. It was seriously fucking hot.

“Oh…baby.” JC was close. The heat was already forming in his lower body. It was no wonder that he was going to come so soon, but he wanted to make this last, this feeling of being one with Justin. He tried to slow his hands, but his cock was so hard, dribbling so much on his fingers. He started to wish he’d brought his camera; footage of this would last him the rest of his sexual life, he was sure. He looked down at his rippling abs, his slim but strong thighs spread wide, his cock so engorged with blood that it pointed angrily at the ceiling. “Aw…shit…want you. Want you so fucking much,” he groaned down at his body, his face, his hands. One last “Jus” and it was like Justin coming in his arms, shaking and flailing on top of him and underneath him and next to him and with him all at the same time. JC went rigid as he stroked and shook himself to completion, and then he tasted Justin’s semen from his fingers and chest. Then he turned to the mirror, reached out and touched Justin’s lips in the reflection.

It was no use pretending that he was going to take a shower. Justin was panting as he ran-walked to the closest bedroom suite, closed the door, and stripped as he dashed to the bathroom. He stepped into the shower before the water had warmed up, hands already pulling at his nipples. Then he turned around and looked through the glass shower door into the large vanity mirror across the room. What he saw was JC, naked, hard, and wet. Justin stared at himself, his long legs, his small, tight frame, his veiny arms, and his big silver eyes, and he could no longer help himself. Lube wasn’t necessary; the tip of his cock was already moist, and with a licked-wet hand, Justin was at gasp-and-curse level already. There were two images thundering in his brain as he masturbated frenziedly—JC’s reflection stroking himself in the mirror, and JC stroking himself in his body on his bed looking at his face just down the hall. He thought about JC and the mirror, and what it couldmaybepossibly mean, and Justin tried it himself. “J-Jace?” He licked his lips lewdly, like he was trying to taste the man down the hall who’d made him so hard that he was nearly collapsing against the wall. Remembering that last glimpse of JC looking down at the body he was claiming as his own, saying its rightful owner’s name, was the last straw. Justin pressed himself into the corner as orgasm raced through him, JC’s hot seed spurting from his sex, JC’s name shouted from his lips.

Refreshed, cleaned off but still warm, JC headed down the hallway only to stop when he heard noises coming from the guest room he’d been using. Before he could think to be scared he pushed the door open and saw Justin walking out of the bathroom, naked.

“Do you knock?” Justin growled as he grabbed for a towel. His body was pink all over, which JC thought odd. Under his control, his body only achieved full body flush post orgasm, not just because of embarrassment.

“Sorry. I didn’t know you were here.” JC’s eyes flew open. “Uh, how long have you been here anyway?” he asked nervously.

Justin finally met JC’s eyes, and realized that JC had no idea what he’d been doing in the shower. “Not too long. Just took a nice shower. Were you up here, too?”

“Oh, um. Yeah. Just…taking a nap.” JC went pink. “Have you eaten?”

“No. Wanna order a—”

“Pizza! You read my mind. The works?” Justin nodded and waited for JC to leave. When he didn’t, only stood and stared at him curiously, Justin shrugged and asked, “What, man?”

“No, I’m just…” JC smiled and walked backward to the door. “You don’t have to hide like that. That’s my body. Don’t you think I know what it looks like naked?” He smiled wickedly at Justin and then jogged downstairs. Justin thought about that as he finished drying off.

Once the delivery car had gone, Justin joined JC in the kitchen for pizza. Still naked.


The final leg of Justin’s tour was looming, and Justin was starting to panic. JC suggested that maybe he should learn some of the numbers, just in case they weren’t fixed by August 6. At first Justin rolled his eyes, but then he remembered JC’s moves back during the *Nsync days. And JC’s voice. And JC’s commitment. So he relented and booked them some time at the rehearsal studio.

JC showed up singing along to “Lovestoned” on his iPod. Justin watched him stretch and sing and dance to his own choreography. It was both familiar and strange; JC sounded like him, but the way he sang was more like JC. Luckily for him, they sometimes sang quite similar. Sometimes.

“Ok, C. Here’s the set list.” Justin handed JC a typed list with handwritten notes. JC moved so he was shoulder to shoulder with Justin as he looked down at the list. Justin had a whiff of his favorite soap and shampoo and cologne, and he nearly pressed his nose into JC’s neck. “Um…oh, so, like, which ones have you learned so far?”

“All of ‘em.” JC looked up and smiled as he hummed with his iPod. “I learned all of them, man. That’s what you wanted, right?”

“Since two days ago? That’s fast, man.”

JC smiled brightly. “I’m a professional, eh?” He laughed, which only confused Justin. “I guess you’re too young to remember ‘Take Off’, huh? Nevermind, J.” JC bumped Justin’s hip and walked back to his stuff. Justin watched and wondered if JC was swinging hiss ass on purpose. The thought that JC might be flirting with him was unsettling, especially since they had the whole studio to themselves for hours. No interruptions like last time, Justin thought as his heart started to race. He still remembered the time just days ago when they’d almost… He shook his head of the thought and went to cue up his music. He tried not to smile too much.

JC felt like calling up Wade Robeson and apologizing for all the times he called him a fascist backbreaking taskmaster. The situation was bad enough, but Justin barking instructions at him didn’t help. Add to that the fact that JC had to look at his own face frowning at him when he made a mistake, had to hear that he’d messed up from his own shrill voice. More than once he felt like belting Justin or kicking his feet out from under him. He was exhausted physically and mentally.

“Dude, you keep doing jazz hands at that part. It’s supposed to be like this!” Justin demonstrated the move he wanted. When JC watched himself do it in the mirror, it looked spot on to him, but Justin shook his head. “No!”

“What do you mean, no? I did it just like you said!” Justin shook his head and jumped behind JC, grabbed his shoulders, and then moved his hands into place.

“Here. Let’s do it slow.” JC held his breath as Justin pressed up against him and moved his hands the way he wanted them to go. After the second time, JC finally saw the subtle difference Justin wanted to see. He did it alone, and Justin finally smiled. “Yeah, man. Good.”

“Having you…demonstrate. It helps.” JC wanted to slap himself, but Justin merely shrugged and said, “Ok. Let’s do it that way, then.”

An hour later they’d run through most of Justin’s choreography for the show, Justin demonstrating alone first, then as JC’s shadow, moving him like a marionette. JC would have felt a little embarrassed if the close contact didn’t have him teetering on arousal. More than once he’d ended up with Justin’s arms around his waist or Justin’s legs between his. And all the time Justin’s crotch just right at his ass. JC was finding it difficult to concentrate on the moves. They hadn’t spoken about that time in his bedroom, when he’d not-so-subtly asked Justin for a kiss. If Justin wasn’t going to mention it then he wouldn’t either, but it was getting harder to ignore, just like it was getting hotter in the room. As time went on Justin loosened up, and they danced more together than apart. When JC would look at Justin in the mirror, Justin would smile back at him, and then their bodies would come together again. The sexual tension was getting to be too much, and then Justin decided to play the part of hot female dancer. JC watched in awe as Justin wiggled his ass and bent forward at the waist.

“Now, when you sing that line, you come up behind the dancer if front of you and…uh…bump against her.” JC clumsily reached out, grabbed Justin’s ass, and pulled it and Justin toward his crotch.

“Ok, I need a break!” JC shrieked, and then jogged over and poured half of his water bottle over his face and chest. Justin, red in the face, stood up and started babbling.

“We don’t have time for a break, C. The first show is in a little over a week, and you haven’t even learned how to play the piano parts yet! There’s still a lot of work to be done. You’ve got to concentrate!”

JC nearly choked on his water. “Justin, do you even hear yourself? I’m busting my ass so you can keep your life on schedule. You should be grateful I’m even here!”

“Oh, like you weren’t enjoying it.” JC gave Justin a hard stare. “I meant…enjoying the idea of, you know, being on stage and shit.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

Justin could feel himself slipping into quicksand, but it was too late to stop it. “I just meant that, well, it’s been a long time since you’ve been on tour, so, like, I just thought maybe you were, um, gonna like the attention and stuff.” The redness in JC’s face indicated that Justin was completely wrong. “Look, I wouldn’t blame you, I’d feel the same way if I were in your shoes—”

“But you’re not, Justin! I only did this because I was trying to help you. No other reason.”

“Well it’s not like you have…” Justin mentally clapped his hand over his mouth.

“What?” JC hissed. “It’s not like I have anything better to do?” Before Justin could reply, JC threw his stuff into his duffle bag and headed for the door.

“Wait, man! I didn’t mean it like that!”

“Fuck you, Justin.” The studio doors slammed and Justin fell into a boneless, useless heap on the floor.


“C! Thanks for returning my calls, man. I’m really s—”

“Yeah, um, I just had to ask you about the new Paul Thomas Anderson film. Your agent called and said you have to decide today if you want to do it or not,” JC said formally.

Justin went into his bathroom get away from the din Tyler and his friends were creating in the house. “Oh, um. No, I think I’ll pass. Best not to book something…in case we’re still…like this.”

“Fine. I’ll let your agent know.”

“Thanks, JC.” Justin searched for something to say to break the tension. “Oh, the Simpsons premiere is tomorrow. Shall I go for you?”

JC sighed and fought to stay mad. “Yes. Thank you, I’d appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome. Um, I was thinking of getting my hair cut. Who does your hair?”

“I go to this place in West Hollywood,” JC said carefully. “But you don’t have to—”

“No, it’s not a problem. I want to help, C.”

“Oh.” JC cleared his throat so Justin wouldn’t hear him giggle through the phone. “Ok, let me find you the number.”



Get hair cut by Octavio at Mr. Man in W.H.

Simpsons movie premiere with Eric


Workout with trainer

Breakfast meeting with WR people

Studio time with Timbaland

Lunch with Rick Rubin

Studio time with Matt Morris

Tour rehearsal with musicians and dancers

Conference call with agent and Weinstein Brothers

Dinner with Jessica, possibly Posh and Becks


Our loyal readers spotted JC Chasez getting his hair and nails done at Mr. Man in West Hollywood. Then later he showed up at the L.A. premiere of The Simpsons Movie. He was all smiles and waves, until press people started asking him about, what else, ex-bandmate Justin and his new squeeze Jessica Biel. Rumor has it he walked away pissed off. Maybe that hunky boyfr—er, manager of his cooled him off!

Speaking of Justicca, the hot couple was spotted having dinner with Poshnbecks at NoFatteez, the new Hollywood eatery that’s so hot it hasn’t even opened yet! She looked fabulous, but Justin looked a little tired. We can only imagine the acrobatics those 2 get up to. Try a B12 shot next time, JT!

Justin slammed JC’s laptop closed and stomped out the door.

Eric was pacing in JC’s driveway when Justin returned hours later. As soon as Justin got out and the garage door closed, Eric pushed Justin up against the side of the car and pointed a sharp finger in Justin’s chest.

“What the hell are you doing, huh, C? Do you hate me or something?”

“No!” Justin tried to push Eric off, but he held firm. “What are you talking about?”

“I just got a call from the assholes at Jive Records.” Eric laughed, the half sad, half mad kind of laugh people did in TV movies when they found their best laid plans had been foiled. “Seems like they don’t exactly appreciate it when one of their artists barges in and demands to know when his album is going to be released! Big bad record labels don’t really like for their employees to threaten them with broken contracts and badmouthing to the press! And…how could you tell them that you could get Justin to work with you?” Eric threw his hands up in the air and paced in front of the car. Justin watched him and tried to think of what to say, how he could explain the riot act he read the Jive execs an hour ago, without revealing his and JC’s secret.

“I, um, thought maybe it’d make them, like, act. Or something.”

Eric rolled his eyes. “What do you think we’ve been doing all these months? Don’t you know how bad that makes me look, like I can’t even control my own client? What is the matter with you?”

Justin wanted to shrivel up and blow away. “I didn’t mean to make you look bad. I was just pissed off and frustrated and sick of watching his—I needed to do something, Eric!”

“I can’t believe this. You do realize that this has just made everything worse, don’t you? After all that, they just said that they might not make a decision about your album until next year, JC. Next year!” Justin fell back against the car door, mouth embarrassingly agape and eyes wide. “So congratulations, C. You’ve fucked up our relationship and your career. I hope that was worth it.” Eric started to walk away. Justin could barely find the wind to call after him.

“I’m—sorry. I didn’t mean to…I can fix it. I’d never do anything to hurt him…” When Justin looked up, Eric was gone. And there was a small scratch on the door of JC’s car.

JC and the dancers had just finished going through the last number a second time when Justin showed up at the rehearsal space, his eyes red and his shoulders slumped. He pulled JC off to a private room and, once there, pulled JC into a frightened hug.

“What’s the matter?” JC laughed.

“Nothing,” Justin whispered. “I just…never knew how…what it was like…to be you.”

JC didn’t say anything, just nodded and held Justin tighter.


Trouble in paradise for Justin Timberlake and his lady love? Our sources say that while Justin was shooting that new naughty viddy with 50 cent, hot galpal Jessica Biel was making time with an ex boyfriend! Could Justin’s new “My Love” be over him before he even has time to write an album about her? And what of the rumor that Justin was ring shopping recently? If history is any indication, it was probably a promise ring, the kind 15 year old boys buy chicks in order to get some action. Don’t worry Jessica—Justin probably has a lot more video girls (ho’s) to go through before he’s ready to settle down!

Jessica read the words on JC’s BlackBerry several times until the pinkness in her cheeks faded. “Yeah, so?”

JC put the device back into his carryall, stepped inside Jessica’s home, and closed the front door. “I saw this and was just, um, wondering if…um…what it said was, you know, true.”

Jessica shook her head. “You’re asking me point blank if I cheated on you with my ex, or you’re asking me if you bought me an engagement ring?”

“Oh.” JC blushed as he stammered, “Um, no, that wasn’t…it’s not what you…I think they just made that up…I was at a jewelry store and…um…no!”

“Relax, man. It’s too early for that, I know. A girl can hope, though, right?” She walked over and kissed JC on the neck. When he bristled, she drew back and sighed, “Look, I saw my ex at that wedding, we talked and danced and…I don’t know. It was nice seeing him, you know? I still care about him. You still care about Cameron, right?”

“Huh? Oh, um, yeah, of course.” JC faked a cough. “So, that’s all there was? Talking?”

Jessica lowered her eyes and scratched her nose. “Mmm-hmm. Speaking of gossip, what’s this about video ho’s?”

“Please. Like I’d make out with girls on a video set!” The two kisses he’d shared with a one such “dancer” had been required for the shoot—the three more, with tongue, were just for fun. It’d been the only kissing JC had felt since before the swap, and the whole time he thought of someone else. “Well, now that that’s settled, I better get going, Jess.”

“Already?” She wrapped her arms around JC’s neck and kissed him gently. “You just got here.”

“I know, but, um, I’ve got to…um…meet JC at the house,” JC lied, racking his brain for an excuse to get away from the girl who was practically rubbing herself against him. “Mmm…I really have to…mmm…go.”

Jessica frowned. “Why are you spending so much time with JC Chasez? I know you said you were working on some songs, but how long does that take? Do you spend this much time with all your projects?”

JC frowned. “JC isn’t a ‘project.’ He’s my friend.”

“Is that all?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Justin. I’ve seen the way he looks at you when I see you together. And I know how…involved all you guys used to be in each other’s lives. I wouldn’t blame him if he had a crush on you.”

JC did a double take. “You think that Ju—JC has a crush on me? Like, lately?

“Probably. I mean, he’s not fooling anybody with those beards you see him with. He’s always calling you and coming over to work on this ‘music’ that I have yet to hear. I don’t care, as long as he knows where he belongs in your life.”

JC bristled again. “And where is that?”

Jessica smiled coldly. “Behind the velvet rope.”

JC pushed her away. “That’s enough. I’m going.”

“What’s your problem, Justin? Why are you protective of him?” Jessica got in JC’s face and looked him in the eye. “Do you…have feelings for him?”

JC’s mouth went dry. “Wh-what?”

Jessica’s eyes looked like they were about to water. “Cameron warned me, you know…that time after the Golden Globes when she got in my face? She said she could never get close to you when your mom was around, or when you and JC were in the studio. She said it was like she didn’t even exist when you guys were together. At least there was something to show for it with her. What are the names of the songs you’re doing with JC now? Huh? What do they sound like? Can you play them for me?”

JC was dumbfounded. His heart racing, his brain exploding, all he could manage to say was, “Um…it’s still…early stage yet…it’s taking…a long time to figure out…it’s…complicated.”

“Right.” Jessica walked away, and suddenly JC imaged Justin’s hands tightening around his throat.

“You’re wrong, Jessica. He doesn’t—I don’t have…it’s not like that with us. We’re just friends, and I wouldn’t…I mean, I’m not into…guys.” JC swallowed hard and did his best Justin Timberlake impression. “You know I’m straight, girl!”

Jessica turned around. Her eyes were bold and scared at the same time. “Then prove it, Justin. Make love to me. Right now.” JC backed away from her as she moved forward. “We haven’t had sex in weeks, you won’t kiss me, and you spend all of your free time with your former bandmate. So prove it to me now, Justin.” She shoved him up against the wall. “Fuck me right now.”

JC took a deep breath and did the only thing he could do to save Justin’s relationship.


“Hey, man, are you up yet? You’ve got a big day ahead of you! Get your ass up!” Justin shouted as he bounded up his stairs toward his master bedroom. “Listen, before we head to Tennessee I think there’s something you should—” Justin pushed his bedroom door open and stared in shock at the scene before him—JC sitting up and wiping the sleep from his red face, with Jessica sleeping next to him. “Know.”

JC cleared his throat. “Um…I can explain.”

“Don’t. I just came to—to remind you of your schedule. You have to meet with Johnny before you fly out,” Justin murmured as he stared at his girlfriend’s half naked form under the sheets. “I—I gotta go.”

“Wait!” But Justin was gone before JC could pull on his robe. His body always could move fast when he wanted it to.


Justin kicked a dent in JC’s favorite car, packed a carryon bag, and had Tyler and some friends take him to the airport.

JC had a quiet cry in the shower, had an assistant pack 3 bags, had a tense meeting with Johnny, signed some papers Justin had left him, called Lynn, did 2 telephone magazine interviews, and had a stretch limousine drive him and Justin’s small entourage to the airport.

On the way to the airport VIP lounge, Justin signed 4 autographs, took 2 pictures, and saw countless magazines with his real face on the cover.

Hounded by rude paparazzi and pushy autograph seekers, JC’s security rushed him to one of the airport’s exclusive private VIP waiting rooms.

Justin sat in his first class seat and wondered what he was going to say to JC.

JC looked out the window of a private jet and wondered where everything went to hell.


Justin text messaged his mother, the first time he addressed her as himself, and asked her to open his house up for JC. Her message back read: Oooookay. Can’t wait 2 C U! Miss U bAbe! Justin nearly broke down.

When Justin arrived in Millington his eyes started to water.

When he stepped into his own house, he burst into tears.

In the back of the limousine on the way to Justin’s house, JC finished checking his home answering service and suddenly felt the overwhelming need to talk to his mother. He wondered briefly if Justin would let him have a day off to fly to see his folks. That thought, that his life was no longer his, no longer his plan or his desire, made him go cold. He looked around the limo at Justin’s assistants, his bodyguards, his extreme success, and allowed himself to finally feel what he’d never really allowed himself to feel: envy.

By the time they arrived at Justin’s house, JC could barely hold back tears.


Justin sat in a rocking chair in his bedroom and listened to people filing into his house downstairs. He recognized their voices, knew their names, and understood their places in his life…all save one of them. It wasn’t until everything was squared away and everyone else had been sent away that he made his presence known.

“I’m up here, JC,” Justin stated softly. It was loud enough; JC came to the door after a while.

“Hey, J.”

“Hey.” Justin kept rocking, kept his eyes on the window in front of him. JC slowly moved over to the bed and sat down. He kept his eyes on the floor.

“Look, Justin. I have to tell you something.”

“What’s that?”

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.” JC looked out the window and then turned his eyes to his own sad profile. “I don’t think I can…no. I don’t want to do your tour for you.”

Justin stopped rocking. “When did you decide this?”

“When I realized how much this was going to take out of me. I’m not you, Justin. I can’t be you.” JC looked at his profile with hard eyes and proclaimed, “I don’t want to be you.”

Justin slumped down in his chair. “I don’t want to be you, either.”

“No shit. Why the hell would you want to be me?”

“Please.” Justin finally turned to look at JC and was surprised to find resentment on his own face. “I’m tired of the self-pity, JC. Don’t blame me if you hate your life.”

JC stood up and nearly kicked his own face in. “I never said I hated my life, you asshole! I was going along fine until this mess happened.”

Justin sat up angrily. “Really? Fine? You think your career is going fine, do ya? If I was in your shoes I’d fucking retire!” Justin winced and cursed his too quick tongue. “Shit. Look, I—”

“So is that why you fucked me over, Justin? Is that why you went to Jive and threw one of your famous hissy fits about my album? Are you trying to put the last nail in the coffin, Justin?”

“No, I…thought I was helping.”

“Because I need all the help I can get, right?” Justin stood up and threw his hands up in the air. “Well thanks for your help, Justin! I just listened to my messages, and Eric says that little stunt of yours may have cost me my recording contract!”

“Oh, man.” Justin wanted to pull at his hair, but JC was already hurting so much already. “I just wanted to help!”

The sarcastic laughter coming from his own mouth sounded awful to Justin. “You must be so bored being me, not being able to be the center of attention all the time. Not having everyone bend over backwards to kiss your ass.”

“Oh, fuck you, JC! I work damn hard for everything I have!”

“Yeah, and you never stop working long enough to enjoy it.” JC walked over to the window and looked down at the beautiful estate that Justin hardly ever saw. “You never stop working long enough to appreciate the people around you.”

“You mean you, right?” Justin stepped up to JC and barked in his face, “I know you think I’m an ungrateful prick, because I don’t go around talking about how I would be nowhere without the group. You think I should dedicate all my albums and all my success to *Nsync…to you!”

“I never said that, Justin.”

“But you think it, don’t you?”

JC stared daggers into his own eyes. “Sometimes…yes!”

“So tell me, JC,” Justin growled, “is that why you fucked my girlfriend?”

JC started to say something, but then changed his mind. The look on his face changed from angry to impish. “You wanted me to take care of your business for you, didn’t you?” Justin’s fist tightened. “Well…I took care of her, Justin.” JC pressed his mouth against Justin’s ear and whispered, “She said she never had it so good.”

Before Justin knew what was happening, he’d landed a punch on his own face.

“You…Jesus, Justin!” JC held his face and doubled over.

“Oh…shit…Jace, I’m sorr—” Before JC could think, he flew up, pounced on Justin, and the two of them went flying onto the bed. They wrestled clumsily, neither one able to get a good hold of the other’s body. JC eventually outmaneuvered himself so he was sitting on Justin’s hips and holding Justin’s hands over his head.

“Get off me!” Justin yelled. “You told me you wouldn’t sleep with her! I trusted you!”

“None of this would have happened if you’d told her the truth. You always have to have it your way, Justin! I’ve been busting my ass for weeks for you, and you don’t even care!” JC yelled.

“Did I hold a gun to your head, JC?” Justin growled. “Did I? Did I force you to do anything for me, JC? No! You wanted to take my place! You wanted to have it all, the money and the power and the success and the adulation. You wanted it, and you enjoyed every minute of it!” Justin’s voice started to tremble. “You even enjoyed my girlfriend! Was it worth it, JC? Was it worth ruining my relationship just to be in the spotlight again?”

“Fuck you, Justin! I stood in for you, went to your meetings, made appearances for you, let your damn trainer kick my ass, called your mother every day, traveled for you, did interviews for you, and I even learned all your damn songs and choreography! All for you, and this is how you treat me? You’ve practically been on a month-long vacation, and all you had to do was make a few phone calls for me, but you had to fuck my life over because you always have to do it your way without ever thinking about anyone else! You’re so damn selfish. You don’t deserve Jessica!”

“Yeah, blame me for everything if you want, but we both know why Jive is burying your album—because they know and you know that it won’t sell!” Justin grabbed JC by the sides of the face and spoke in low spurts of anger and frustration. “It’s not my fault that the music you make isn’t popular, it’s not my fault that you think you’re too much of an artiste to record songs other people have written, and it’s not my fault that you won’t let them change your image so they can figure out how to sell your damn music to the few people out there who still buy anything that’s not top 40! So don’t you blame this shit on me, JC!”

“Shut up—”

“No! You think you’re so much better than me, because you’re so ‘comfortable’ with yourself, and everyone thinks you’re so fucking ‘friendly’, and your sound is all different and cooler than the mainstream stuff I do. But if that were true, you wouldn’t be hiding behind all those beards you take out…and you wouldn’t be whoring yourself on stupid fucking TV shows and radio shows trying to expose yourself to the masses…would you?” They were both shaking, eyes and faces red, staring closely at each other struggling to break free and hold tight at the same time. “And if you were so much of a nicer person than I am, then why—” Justin pressed his face against JC’s to hide the choking in his voice. “Why did you betray me with my own girlfriend?”

“No!” JC sat up and covered his face with his arms. His head was swimming and his belly was squirming—for a moment he felt like he might be sick. Justin shook underneath him, red eyes staring up at him for explanation. JC finally took a deep breath and looked down at his own face, and all he saw was pity and hurt. He looked at it, the worry lines that were just starting to form, the skin a stylist suggested he have chemically peeled so he’d look like he was going on 25 instead of 31. He looked into the teary eyed mirror and said very softly, “I hate you.”

For all Justin knew, his heart was stopping cold. “What?”

“I hate that you would let yourself get caught up in someone else’s life instead of fighting harder to fix your own. I hate that you let yourself get attached…again…to someone who will never return your feelings. I hate that you keep making the same mistakes, trusting when you shouldn’t…loving someone you shouldn’t. I hate that you thought being in someone else’s shoes would be easier, that you’d be able to escape what’s wrong in your life. But it’s just another kind of misery.” JC let go a long, pained breath as tears spilled from his eyes. “That’s why I hate you, JC. You ruined my life.”

Justin tried to grab JC, pull him down, stop the hurt, because it was his own face that was breaking, his own voice that was cracking. But it was JC who was crying, who was hating himself. And that hurt Justin more than if he was saying it himself. “Jace…what…don’t…come here.”

“Alright! I did it!” JC lifted his chin and bellowed at the ceiling, “I had my big bad epiphany! I had my big breakthrough! I’m cured of my insane envy for Justin’s success, right? So, let’s go!” He threw his arms out dramatically, laughing and crying at himself. “God or fate or whoever did this to us, I’m sorry, ok? I’m sorry I wished for one…fucking…moment that I had what he had. I didn’t mean it like this! I didn’t ask to be Justin! I just wanted…to stop struggling. For it to be like it was…when everything was good. When I was doing what I loved.” He looked down into Justin’s scared eyes. “With who I loved.”


“I just want my life back. I know it’s not perfect, but…it’s mine. I guess somewhere I must have, I don’t know, wished to be where you are…have what you have…and something must have happened.” JC sniffed and wiped his eyes. Justin took the opportunity to move his shaking hands to JC’s legs to steady him, hold him still and firm in place on top of him. JC smiled sadly at the contact. “I’m so sorry, Justin. I didn’t know this would happen. How could I have known? I’m sorry…I’m sorry.”

“Stop it and listen to me, JC.” Justin sat up so he could face his reflection head on. He tried to choose his words carefully, but he had to talk quickly if he wanted to get it all out before he couldn’t talk anymore. “This isn’t me sounding self-centered, but…it was me. I did this! I wondered what it would be like to be you…to not have the press following me every damn day. To not have crazy people crawling through my trash, my mail, even following my dog walkers. To know myself so well to not always be thinking about my big stupid fucking image all the time. To just not give a shit. And yeah, sometimes I really hate that my music sells better, but yours is more…adventurous. You’ve even said yourself that…you think I’m a ‘superstar.’ Like I care more about style than substance or something.” JC looked down and shrugged a little. “So I envied you, too. And, you know, because you’re such a nice guy!”

JC managed a smile. “I never give fans the finger.”

“No, you sure don’t.” Justin reached out and wiped JC’s cheek. “So maybe we made this happen. The both of us.”

“Maybe.” JC tried to smile. “Your tour. I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry, JC. I’m sorry I made you hate yourself.” JC shook his head, but Justin grasped him by the neck so he couldn’t disagree. “JC, please don’t say you hate yourself. If you want to hate someone, hate me. I took advantage of you. I’ve put all my work bullshit on you since this happened, never once thinking about how it would affect you.”

“It’s not like I haven’t been through all that before,” JC muttered.

“I know, man. But not like this. And not all by yourself. Sometimes I just want to quit. I love what I do, but…being alone out here gets to me sometimes.”

JC fisted Justin’s shirt; it was one from the back of his closet, one he only wore at home because it didn’t match anything. But he loved it for its softness and the way it always smelled so good. And now Justin was wearing it. He spread his hands around on the material, trying to get a better grip on it. Justin inhaled sharply and JC’s hands stopped. “I, um…yeah, I know what you mean, Justin. It can get lonely without someone you—I’m glad you have Jessica.”

“Oh, yeah.” Justin leaned forward, but JC’s hands didn’t move again. “Listen, I guess I understand why you slept with Jes—why you did it,” he said slowly. “You were lonely. Right?”

JC licked his lips. “You think I could do that to you? Is that what you think of me, J?”

“What are you saying?”

“God, Justin.” JC pressed his forehead against Justin’s hard, so there could be no confusion because of thick skulls. “I did not have sex with your girlfriend. I would never do that to you. Not ever in a million years.”

A chortled, “Oh…good…glad,” came from Justin’s throat as his arms slid tightly around JC’s middle of their own accord. He sniffed and rubbed his short straight hair against JC’s buzzed forehead. “But, I thought—”

“She cornered me,” JC explained, his arms needing to latch on to Justin’s back. “She didn’t understand why we were spending so much time together. She thought you…she thinks I have a crush on you. The real me…on the real you,” he lied.

Justin swallowed and kept his eyes on JC’s lowered baby blues. “Ok.”

JC shrugged away his embarrassment. “She started to question your—my—well, our friendship. And I guess she assumes I’m gay, so…anyway, she had every right to want your affection. You’re her boyfriend and I wasn’t doing a very good job of replacing you.”

“You did a damn fine job,” Justin whispered in soft hot breaths on JC’s neck. “You were a wonderful me. Amazing.”

“Oh…um.” JC lost track of himself for a second; Justin’s lips were practically touching his skin. “Anyway, she wanted to, you know…have sex with you. And I tried to tell her I had to go, but she gave me an ultimatum. She wanted me to prove to her that I—that you weren’t gay.”

Justin shuddered and rubbed a soothing hand on the back of JC’s head, where he himself always loved to be rubbed. A little moan slipped out of JC’s throat. “Oh, man, that’s awful.”

“Yeah, this whole situation isn’t easy for her, I’m sure.”

“No, I meant it’s awful that she put you in that position.” Justin pulled away so they could look at each other. “I’m sorry, man.”

“Oh, well, um, thanks.” JC managed a teeny smile.

Curious to hear the rest but not wanting to rush the moment, Justin murmured, “Go on,” while stroking JC’s cheek at the same time. JC’s eyes closed and his voice lowered to a near whisper.

“I didn’t know what else to say, so I…uh…please don’t hate me, J.”

“I could never hate you.” Justin punctuated the sentiment with a kiss to JC’s cheek. JC tilted his head so their noses rubbed together.

“Justin, I told her that I couldn’t sleep with her because I have, um, jock itch.”


“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t think of anything else, and I had to pick one that I could have gotten non-sexually because I didn’t want her to think that you cheated on her! I made up something about falling asleep in wet clothes or something. She believed me without having to look at it up close, thank God!” Justin giggled and rubbed JC’s back gratefully. “I told her I have to put fungicide on it for six weeks, so that bought some time. The next night we stayed up late talking and fell asleep in your bed. You found us the next morning. Nothing ever happened between us, J. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“C.” Justin lowered his eyes and his voice. “I was hurt because I thought you’d slept with her. Not just because I thought she’d slept with you. Do you understand?”


“Don’t…don’t cry, C. I want to see you smile.” Justin pulled JC closer so their lips were centimeters apart. “You deserve to be happy, man. You’re so good. To me. You’ve done so much for me these past few weeks…longer. You never complained, either. I’m so selfish sometimes, I know that. But I never worried that you’d come through for me, JC. Because you’re a professional and you’re the most talented motherfucker I’ve ever met.”

JC whimpered, “Baby,” as he stared down into Justin’s big silvery eyes. His thumbs traced quivering lines down the sculpted cheekbones, over the nose and down to the lips. “I wanted to help you, I did. I wanted you to be proud of me,” he admitted reluctantly. “I wanted you to look at me…the way you’re looking at me right now.”

“Jace. Oh, Jace.”

JC looked at his shaking fingers on Justin’s face, and felt 10 similar trembles rubbing circles into the small of his back. “Justin, I’m sorry for everything I said. I didn’t mean any—”

“Yes, you did, C. And I meant what I said, too. Just not to say it like that.”

Their violent outburst reverberated in JC’s mind. “I see. Ok.”

“Jace, don’t look away, man. Look at me. This is important.” Justin slid his hands into JC’s back pockets to collect him completely into his lap. “We’re not the same; we never were. I may not dig a lot of your music, but—and I guess I never told you this—I respect it. And I know there’s a place for it, and I fucking hate Jive for doing this to you. You belong in this business, JC. You’ll find your place in it. We’ll find your place.”

“J.” JC gave Justin a tight hug and a soft kiss on the nose. “Thank you.”

“We just h-have different tastes in s-stuff.” JC’s hands and his affection and his warmth and his breath all over Justin were unnerving him in the worst and best way. “Doesn’t mean we can’t be c-close.”

JC whispered, “I wanna be close to you,” against Justin’s mouth, which caused the jaw to open embarrassingly. Justin tried to compose himself, but his hands were already sliding up the inside of JC’s shirt.

“Like I said, we have different…I mean, um, look at this shirt I’m wearing of yours. I would have never had the b-balls to wear it before—”

“Mmm hmm.”

“But, it’s you. It belongs to you, C.” Justin’s eyes dropped from JC’s parted lips down to JC’s fingers in his shirt. “Actually, I think I’m starting to like it.”

“Really,” JC whispered. Justin lifted his eyes to JC’s. They were burning with need, just like his were.

“It’s the softest thing I’ve ever felt,” he murmured. “So far.”

“So far?” JC mouthed as he begged with his eyes.

“Yes.” Before he could lose his nerve, Justin licked his lips and whispered, “JC…have you ever wondered what it would feel like to…have you ever wanted to…kiss…yourself?”

“I think I’d like that very much,” JC whispered as his eyes closed, and then Justin’s eyes closed, and then their lips met.


It was a soft kiss but Justin could feel its effects all through his body. He’d kissed JC, who looked like him, but was still JC. Weird, yes, but JC was weird sometimes, so Justin was ok with it.

JC pulled back and looked at his own face feeling his kiss. It was Justin gazing out through silver blue eyes at him, Justin who was pulling him back for more. With pleasure, JC let himself be pulled.

When the gentle rubbing and touching of lips was no longer enough, JC let his lips part so he could taste more. Justin did the same, and they tasted more of each other, together.

The giggles came soon after the tongues. Justin started it but JC couldn’t stop.

“I’m sorry…it’s…I opened my eyes and saw you kissing me and…” JC looked at Justin smiling at him, pawing him under the shirt. “I opened my eyes and saw me kissing you.” JC finally stopped laughing.


“Do you like kissing me, JC?”

JC answered with more kissing and hands pushing Justin down on his back.

It never occurred to JC that he would one day be kissing his own lips, sucking on his own tongue, licking into his own hot, sweet mouth, or rubbing against his own body. His lips were softer than he would have thought. He had no idea his tongue was that long. Licking into the tiny gap in his front teeth was actually kind of fun. While slipping a hand underneath Justin’s body, JC made a mental note to work more on his glutes in the gym.

Justin didn’t want to open his eyes. He didn’t like to think of himself as vain, and he was thinking such lovely thoughts about the person kissing his jaw and playing with his nipples through his shirt. He didn’t want to spoil it by directing the lovely thoughts toward himself. So when he felt JC pull away from him, he kept his eyes closed. Even kept them closed when JC asked him to stop.

“No, I don’t wanna look at me. Come back and kiss me.”

“Please, J.” Justin opened 1 eye to a slit, just enough to see JC slowly pulling off his shirt and stretching long arms over his head. “I’ve been working on my abs, just like you wanted. See?” JC took Justin’s hand and placed it on his 6 pack. Justin’s mouth fell open.

“I…oh. It’s, um, yeah,” Justin mumbled. JC smiled and sank back down to straddle Justin’s hips between his thighs.

“My,” JC whispered as he looked down into his own silvery blue eyes, “you sure are pretty.”

Justin almost laughed. “Yeah, I am.”

The reality of it all didn’t really hit Justin until he found himself on top of JC and JC’s hand inside his jeans. He froze, images of Jessica and Cameron and Britney and little Jenny Taylor with braces running through his brain. JC pulled his hand away and pressed Justin’s head down on his chest.

“Are you alright?” JC asked after a few long moments of nervous heavy breathing.

“I don’t know.”

“We don’t have to…I mean, we can stop now, if you want.” Justin held his breath, in case JC was going to keep playing Mr. Nice Guy. “If this isn’t what you want—”

“JC. I want this, ok? I’m just freaking out because…” Justin looked down at where his and JC’s feet tangled together at the end of the bed. He smiled at that, and at their knees bumping, and at the way his hand fit perfectly over JC’s pecs, and at the way the vibrations of JC’s voice tickled his ear. “A month ago I was going along, living my life and dating J—someone. And then I woke up and I was in your body and you were in mine. And then we learned to deal, I hanged out with your loud brother, and you took care of my crazy life, and I learned to drink wine, and you learned every last one of my songs. And now we’re here and…” Justin held JC still so he could kiss his big pink nipples. He knew JC would be gasping in only seconds—Justin had been watching girls kiss them long enough to know how his nipples liked to be licked and suckled. “Mmm, JC. We’re here doing this and we still have so much to say to each other. So much to decide.” Looking up into JC’s face, Justin slipped his hand down into JC’s pants and laid a heavy hand over JC’s twitching cock.

“Oh, God.”

“Do you feel that, JC?” JC answered with a deep kiss. “Tell me what you want.”

JC rolled over so they were facing each other, his leg over Justin’s hips. He kissed Justin tenderly and then admitted, “Justin…I miss you. I love kissing you, but…I want to kiss you, your face. I want to touch your body. I want to…taste the real you.” Justin whimpered and nodded quickly. “I love your life, J, but with you living it, not me. I don’t want to be you, baby. I want to be with you.”

Justin wanted to say the same, but he could feel his eyes starting to water. So instead he kissed JC deeply while he got them both naked.

JC made Justin stand up so he could look at himself up close from all angles. Justin thought it silly at first.

“I had no idea I had this huge birthmark on my ass!”

“That’s, um, interesting, C, but could you…oh.” JC continued to study said birthmark with his mouth while reaching around to stroke his own cock. Justin watched and played with his nipples, just the way JC told him to.

Justin stared down at his naked body spread out on his bed. For a second he considered taking some pictures, but after the 2001 near miss with the Britney sex tape, he wasn’t taking any chances. So he settled for staring. And touching.

“Turn over, C. I want to look at my scalp.” JC giggled and obliged, taking the opportunity to hunker down into the mattress, the soft sheets. Justin hovered over him and drew circles in his own scalp with one hand. The other traced his various tattoos.

“Thinking about getting another one?” JC asked, impatience starting to wear on his nerves. “Do you have any skin left? What are you doing back there? Justin?”

“Hush.” JC hummed as he was gathered up into strong veiny arms. “I just wanted to see. This is, like, unprecedented territory, you know? In the movies the people who switch bodies are usually rivals or relatives, never lo—” He kissed behind JC’s ear and felt them both shiver when he whispered, “Lovers.”

“Justin…oh…now that we’re being all…honest…do you still think ‘Some Girls’ sucks?” JC groaned as he slipped expertly between Justin’s long legs. Their erections met between them, connecting them. For Justin’s part, he would have just as soon lied and said he liked the song, but JC was grinning down at him and riding him at the same time. Justin figured he could chance it—no way was he letting JC get away from him.

“It’s definitely one of my least favorite songs on Schizophrenic,” Justin moaned. “It’s obvious that the…oh…rap bit was forced on youooooo…and the clapping track is…oh God…derivatiivfffmmmmth.” JC cut off any further insult on his song with his tongue in Justin’s mouth and his fingers on Justin’s perineum. When he pulled away Justin was breathless.

“Thanks for being honest. Dick.”

Justin pulled JC down for more kiss-talking. “Jace…you hated ‘Take it from Here’…admit…mmm…your mouthisohot.” JC giggled and moaned I wanna be your Broadway show on review as his fingers kept exploring. “Right. So what if I don’t like that one song, C. There’ll always be things we don’t…mmm…like about each other.”

JC broke the kiss and licked from Justin’s mouth down to his collarbone. “Mmm, honesty. I like this.” In between licks to Justin’s chest, JC declared, “You have too many sneakers.”

Justin smiled wryly. “Ok.” Pressing his body up, urging JC down to his aching nipples, Justin sighed, “Ugh…shit…You need to hire a new stylist. Studded belts went out in the 80s.”

“I never noticed how small mine are,” JC murmured as he wet Justin’s nipples with his tongue. “Oh, and stop complaining that your Grammys are for pop instead of R&B. You should be grateful you have any. God, you’re getting me so hard.”

“They may be small, but they feel wonderful. Wear your glasses when you have to read a teleprompter. And…oh...keep doing that.”

Justin’s swollen nipple popped out of JC’s mouth. “You’re a bossy motherfucker.”

Justin pushed JC’s drooling mouth down to his lap. “I’m tired of your hair this short. Grow the curls back…yes…grow them back.”

JC’s hand slid down to massage Justin’s testicles. “You need to stop punishing Britney in your music videos!”

Justin laughed, “Well you need to stop hiring beards!”

“Oh yeah? Well you really need to…” JC slid down between Justin’s legs and wrapped both hands around Justin’s—his cock. He smiled at it like he was meeting an old friend after a too long absence. It felt familiar in his hands, and when he squeezed it and stroked just so, Justin purred and shimmied his hips the way he always did. And when he blew hot air at the base and massaged right underneath the head, it thanked him with a few pearly drops at the tip. Justin thanked him by groaning and lifting his hips. “Wow,” JC sighed. “This is what I look like when someone’s about to go down on me.”

“Oh, please…tell me what I need, C,” Justin pled with his wavering voice and his shaking hands on the back of JC’s head. His eyes were wide, not wanting to miss the moment he’d first give head…to himself. He laughed when JC pulled him close and kissed the inside of his thigh. “Ah, tell me, man. It gets me hot when you tell me what to do.”

“Very well. Justin, you need tooooo—” JC let the word buzz in his throat, on his tongue as he licked a long, lecherous trail up the bottom of Justin’s cock. Justin froze; only his eyes moved, following his own pursed lips in their journey around the glans and shaft that originally belonged to JC. It was impossible to look away. It was all of his adolescent fears about sucking cock and all his adult fantasies about sucking cock come true, and the fact that it was JC’s cock his mouth was sucking made it all the better. He couldn’t take his eyes off JC’s lips making indecent sucking sounds, or JC’s hands pressing his thighs apart, or JC’s eyes alternately closing and staring back into his. Justin’s eyes started to water, but he didn’t want to blink. JC pulled off, licked his lips, and smiled proudly.

“If you keep staring at me like that you’ll turn into a flower.”

“Huh? What are you…oooooohhh!” Justin gasped as JC devoured his cock down his own tight, hot throat. “You’re so good…so good.”

“That I am.” JC moved in to inspect his cock with his eyes, his fingers, his tongue. “I like the way I taste.” He licked into the meatus and then repeated his thought as Justin squirmed with delight. He tasted a lot better than some guys he’d blown over the years. He hoped that Justin was equally appetizing. Thinking about Justin’s cock while he was sucking his own made it grow harder—and just trying to figure out the logic of that equation made JC laugh.

“What? Why are you laughing at me?”

“Don’t worry, baby,” JC cooed as he slipped a hand down underneath him to stroke himself. He rubbed his face against the warm shaft in his hand, and then went back to slowly sucking it, savoring it while jerking himself off. It was a surreal feeling, one which had JC oftentimes confusing which penis truly belonging to whom. The cock filling his mouth was warm and thick and somewhat bigger than the one leaving droplets in his fist. But that one was angry red with a nice mushroom head and smooth. JC looked down at it and then at the man who was born with it. “Justin…this is…I mean…”

“I know,” Justin purred, “it’s you…but it’s me, too.” JC nodded and then opened up wide so Justin could press, pulse, shimmy the cock they could both claim as their own up into JC’s mouth, down his throat, and into bed-shaking euphoria. Justin shuddered and sputtered and cursed through his orgasm, but JC remained quiet, too busy swallowing Justin and tasting himself to let on how crazy and hot he was.

“Jace…oh…lemme see…lemme see.” Head still reeling, heart still pumping, Justin collected himself enough to coax JC’s mouth open so he could examine the fruits of his labor. “I would have given you more…but I’ve been masturbating like mad since that night,” Justin whispered as he pulled JC up. “I saw you, you know. The night…after we almost kissed…I saw you jerking off in my room.”

JC was too hard and needy to be ashamed. He crawled up Justin’s body and growled into Justin’s open, awaiting mouth, “I’m glad. I wanted you so muuuuuchhhmmm.” They kissed hard, sharing the semen between them like it came from both of them. When JC started humping Justin, grinding his rigid sex over Justin’s soft cock and belly, Justin realized that JC wanted something from him that he’d never given before. He very badly wanted to give it to him.

“Should I warn you that I’m a novice?” Justin mumbled under his throat as he quickly rolled over on top of JC and pressed him into the bed. Justin marveled at how his cock stood at attention, like it knew it was in for a very special event. He seized it with aplomb—his hand knew his cock well, even if his eyes didn’t. For years he’d avoided checking his junk out in mirrors for fear that it was akin to checking out other guys’ junk. Now his penis was another guy’s penis, and that guy was JC and it was surreal and beautiful and sexy and scary. But JC looked up at him with sweet, patient eyes, so Justin couldn’t be too scared. “Do you like my cock?”

“I love your cock, Justin.”

“Oh.” Justin leaned down and let the tip brush against his cheek, his lips. “Wow, the skin is so soft. I didn’t know. And it’s got this long vein thing underneath.” Justin traced the long vein thing underneath with his thumb. Then with his tongue.

“Oh, God, if you tease me…”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Justin murmured. “I just want to see it…me…you. I’ve never seen us like this before.” Justin kissed the testicles, watching JC’s eyes roll back in his head when he licked a wet trail from the scrotum up to the wet, dribbling head. “Yeah, that always gets me. I always loved getting head, C. And now you’re giving me head all over again, aren’t you?”

JC looked down at Justin’s mouth swallowing his cock. “Yes.”

It surprised Justin how quickly he acclimated to fellatio. JC’s penis fit perfectly in his mouth. The taste was a little salty, a little musky, and it made an amusing smacking sound as Justin jerked the bottom and sucked the top. Justin took it out of his mouth and licked around the corona like Britney used to when she was drunk. Then he stopped, not because JC wasn’t enjoying it, but because he didn’t want to be disrespectful and think about old girlfriends when he was becoming intimate with his new—

“What’s wrong, love? You ok?” JC stroked Justin’s cheek with one hand and fisted the sheet with the other. “Are w-we ok?”

Justin kissed JC’s hand gratefully. “Yes, we are.” With a deep breath Justin held JC tight and descended on his erection, relaxing as the penis penetrated his throat and JC’s hollers pierced his ears. He held fast, with his hands and his mouth and his heart, and soon he got his payment. He pulled off just enough to keep from choking as JC ejaculated warmth onto his tongue roared loud enough for the folks to hear in Graceland.

Justin caressed JC’s quivering body as it relaxed inch by inch, bone by bone. He looked up into JC’s baby blue eyes and thought, Wow, this is what I look like after I’ve come for my boyfriend.

The temperature in the room had gone up, and so had the air conditioning. Justin kissed his way back up to JC’s lips. They shared a deep kiss as they wrapped the bed sheets around them. Lying face to face on the same pillow, they stared into each other’s eyes, lost in mirror reflection and distinction, counterpart and complement. It was weird and hot and beautiful. For a moment JC saw Justin in the silvery blue smile, and Justin felt JC underneath the well toned muscles. They seemed content to just look at each other, but the sound of vehicles pulling into the driveway broke their reverie. Justin sighed and started to get up but was stopped by JC’s hand on his arm.

“We better get up, C.”

“No, I know, I just…um…wanted to tell you that…mmm.” Justin wanted to avoid one of JC’s rambles, and to avoid getting out of bed. He pulled JC to him, kissed him, and whispered, “Tell me what, baby?”

“Just that, when I say that you’re a superstar, it’s not always a bad thing.” JC blushed a little.

“I know, man. It’s ok.”

JC smiled bashfully. “I just meant that, you know, you’re my superstar.” JC blushed even deeper. “I’m corny, huh?”

“Yes. You are.” Justin hid his bright smile and watery eyes in the crook of JC’s neck and ignored the ringing doorbell. “Corn is good for you.”


The alarm clock went off, waking JC from a deep sleep. He reached over Justin’s back to punch the blaring alarm, and when he pulled back he saw something there he hadn’t seen in weeks: a tattoo.

Justin woke from a dream about ringing bells and looked up into scared-happy-freaked out eyes. Silver blue eyes.



Both men sat up suddenly, reaching out shaking hands to touch each other’s faces, make sure they were real. When they were satisfied that they were in possession of their own bodies for the first time in nearly a month, they jumped out of bed and immediately began exploring themselves, checking for wear and tear.

“Oh my God!” JC squealed. “I’m me again! My nose! My ears!”

Justin laughed and ran to a mirror. “Thank God! I’m not short anymore!”

“Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou,” JC chanted as he checked his skin for any piercings, tattoos, or other effronteries Justin may have imposed on his body. “I’ll never make a wish again!”

“Ten fingers, ten toes…still got all my appendages!” Justin looked down at his naked body and suddenly the previous night came back to him in a flurry of emotion and images. When he looked up he saw JC staring at him cautiously. “It’s me, man. I haven’t swapped bodies with Ryan Phillippe or anything.”

JC chuckled. “I know it’s you, J. I know it’s you.” He took a tentative step toward Justin, and then they were both rushing together into a desperate embrace. They laughed until tears ran down their cheeks, but they stayed wrapped in each other’s arms. “I missed you,” JC whispered into Justin’s ear. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too.” Justin pulled JC tighter, scared if he let go that JC might Quantum Leap into Orlando Bloom. “I’m glad we’re back to normal, but…I guess I’ll, um, miss, you know, being you.”


“Not the shaving with a razor or your weird eating habits or anything.” Justin pulled back to look down into JC’s eyes. “I’ll miss being so close to you. Knowing you. And I’ll miss you knowing me so well. Does that make any sense, C?”

JC nodded and wrapped his arms possessively around Justin’s waist. “Yeah. I’ve learned so much about you that I couldn’t have learned any other way. And I know that the grass really isn’t greener.”

“Yeah. Exactly.” They smiled, but there was still hesitancy between them. “Jace. Was it all real? I mean, how could this have happened? We still don’t know, and we don’t know how we switched back. Could it really be that we just both made the same wish?”

“I don’t know, J. I just know that, after all that’s happened, I feel closer to you than I ever have. There’ll always be a part of you in me.” JC lowered his eyes. “That alone was worth all of this, to me.”

Justin stared at JC’s face, his body, his presence, and felt an inexplicable longing. “You were wrong, when you said I was on vacation when I was you. I was working really hard, man. Talking to your brother, your mom, your friends, Eric…talking to them about you. In order to be you I had to study you, C. I had to get to know you all over again, and the more I learned, the more I wanted to know you. I wasn’t just at my house all that time to avoid your brother and be around my own shit. I wanted to…be where you were. I was living in the skin of someone I admired so much, and now that it’s over, I’m gonna miss it.” Justin ran his fingertips over JC’s trembling smile. “I’m not making any more wishes, JC. I don’t want to have to miss being wrapped up in you.” He brought JC’s lips to his, kissed them softly, and whispered, “I don’t want to miss being inside you.”

JC pressed his entire body into Justin’s and whispered, “You won’t have to.”



1. Have lawyers figure way to break JC’s Jive contract

2. After 1, make JC client number 1 on Tennman

3. Have civil breakup with Jessica, remain friendly (Justin)

4. Do not feature Jessica-like character in any future music videos

5. Grow hair (JC)

6. Sell “friendship ring” bought for former girlfriend – donate proceeds

7. Have Perez Hilton hobbled beat up excommunicated from Hollywood

8. Maintain convincing heterosexual façade without aid of beards

9. Sit down and discuss possiblymaybeonedayin20years coming out

10. Tell our close family and friends about us, make music (together and apart), be honest with each other and ourselves, spend as much time together as possible, talk to each other every day no matter how many miles separate us, be happy

Justin looked over the changes JC made to their list. “What’s wrong with Columbus Day?”

“Please, J. You won’t be ready to do any of this in three weeks!”

“Three weeks?” Justin looked over at the calendar on JC’s kitchen wall. “Where did the time go?”

“You just finished touring. You don’t even know what day it is, baby,” JC laughed. He stood up from the kitchen table, gave Justin a sweet kiss, and walked over to the counter to rifle through piled up mail. “And you’re gonna be off shooting another movie soon, remember?”

“And you’re gonna be doing production work in Europe for weeks!” Justin jumped up and grabbed JC from behind, sliding his arms around JC’s waist to pull him in protectively. “I don’t like you being off in a foreign country without me for weeks at a time. All that warm beer and legal same sex marriage. You might meet some hot guy with an accent and dump me.”

“Could be!” JC laughed. Then he pulled Justin’s arms tighter around him and rocked his sweetheart’s body with his. “I can drink my beer warm here. And you can do a phony accent for me any time. Now that you’re a big time movie star.”

“Yeah.” Justin kissed JC’s cheek, then turned him around. “I’m your big time movie star, right?” JC sighed happily and nodded. “And if I’m about to attack a photographer with an umbrella, or do so many collaborations that I end up booking studio time with myself, or if I ever start to believe my own hype and become a full-on asshole that you’d fall out of love with…will you rescue me?”

JC shook his head at Justin. “Like I’d ever fall out of love with you.”

“You never know,” Justin murmured softly, his heart thumping wildly. “You could meet a guy who’s out and proud, who digs songs about vaguely-disguised cracks on his friends fucked up relationships, who is the hottest sex you’ve ever had, isn’t a workaholic, doesn’t want or need to be the number one, best selling, award winning, biggest star in the world, and loves your interesting fashion sense almost as much as he loves you. What if you met a guy like that?”

“Do you think that, um, that guy could…someday…be you?” JC asked hopefully.

“JC.” Justin kissed his sweetheart and mumbled I love you into his mouth. “I am that guy.”

Copyright 08/25/2007 by KTA


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