Rebound

Obligatory warnings and disclaimers:

1. If reading this is in any way illegal where you are or at your age, or you don't want to read about male/male relationships, go away. You shouldn't be here.

2. I don't know any of the celebrities in this story, and this story in no way is meant to imply anything about their sexualities, personalities, or anything else. This is a work of pure fiction.

Questions and commentary can be sent to "writerboy69@hotmail.com". I enjoy constructive criticism, praise, and rational discussion. I do not enjoy flames, and will not tolerate them.

That said, we now continue.

The only light in the kitchen was the lamp inside the refrigerator, spilling in a wide fan across the floor as I stood in front of it with the water pitcher. I wasn't sure if I should hand it to Joey or club him over the head with it and rush Justin out of the house. Why did Joey want to talk to me without Justin? What had he been waiting all night to say to me? And why couldn't he say it with Justin around? I didn't like secrets, but it wasn't like I could go upstairs and wake Justin up. It might be something I needed to know, though, but this still left a bad taste in my mouth that the ice water wouldn't rinse away.

"Joey, I don't mind talking to you," I said, handing him the pitcher. "But I don't feel right keeping things from Justin, especially things about you guys."

"I understand, and I respect that," Joey said, pouring himself a glass. I walked away from the refrigerator, leaning back on the counter, and watched him as he replaced the pitcher on its shelf and stared at the rest of the contents of the refrigerator. "I just want to know how he is. How's Justin doing?"

"Why do you want to know?" I asked, remembering Justin's advice not to trust any of them. Maybe Joey really was just trying to gather information, or maybe he was a concerned friend, like he appeared to be. Damn it, why did this have to be so hard? We needed a friend here, but was it necessarily Joey? He turned and looked at me carefully, and I noticed again that his beard made his face too hard for me to read. JC had a weird little strip, and Chris had some kind of stupid little pointy goatee, but Joey had a whole face neck and chin beard, and combined with the shadowy light in the kitchen it defeated all my attempts at figuring things out from his face.

"In the cabinet behind you there's some crackers," Joey said. I stared at him. "There's some cheese and some pepperoni in here."

He flicked on a light over the sink as I stood there, sipping my water and trying to figure out what he was doing. He got out a knife and two pieces of paper towel, which I figured were going to double as our plates. Obviously Joey was no fan of Martha Stewart. He noticed I hadn't moved yet, and pointed at the cabinet again as he pulled a knife out of the dish strainer.

"The crackers?" he asked. "Please?"

"What are you doing?" I asked finally, picking out a box. There were about six different kinds, so I went with what I liked. I handed Joey the box, waiting.

"I'm having a midnight snack," he said, chopping off a piece of cheese. "You want some?"

"I thought you wanted to talk?" I said, completely confused. The minute I hadn't answered his question, he'd turned around and started whipping out the food.

"I do," Joey answered, opening the crackers. "I'm also kind of hungry. If you want to talk over snacks, that's great. If you don't want to talk, I still get something to eat, so I come out ahead either way. Now, do you want something?"

"Sure," I said, sitting down. I assembled my own little piles on my paper towel, watching Joey, but he wasn't pushing. He really didn't seem to care either way if I answered his question about Justin or not. "What you asked before, about Justin, why do you want to know?"

"You asked that already," Joey said, smiling. His hair was all tangled up in crazy directions, but mine probably was as well, so I really had no business judging.

"You haven't answered it yet," I said, taking the knife from him. The cheese was good, very sharp, and I realized that I was a little hungry as I started eating it.

"OK," Joey said, shrugging as he leaned back in his chair. "I guess you're justified in asking that. I've been kind of watching you two all day, and I can see that you really do care about each other, so I guess it's ok if you're a little protective. Especially since Justin probably told you that we're all in his business all the time, and that we all want him to stay with JC for the good of the group, because we're all out to make as much money off of him as we can. That about right?"

I closed my mouth with an audible snap. He'd nailed it so completely that I wondered for a second if my loft might be bugged.

"He, I, you know," I stammered, feeling my face redden.

"You don't have to say anything," Joey said, chuckling a little. "I didn't mean to put you on the spot. I'm just saying, I know why you're a little suspicious, and why you guys had to talk it over before you even agreed to stay here. Sometimes, when Justin is upset, when he's fighting with JC, he says stuff like that, and since you met him because he broke up with JC, I was pretty sure he'd say it to you, too. Justin likes to be in the spotlight, and he likes to be the frontman, but it doesn't always make him happy. I don't think it would make anyone happy to be that scrutinized, especially someone like Justin, who has something to hide."

"You still haven't answered my question," I pointed out. "Why do you want to know? What's Justin to you?"

"He's my friend!" Joey said sharply. My face must have tightened, too, because he looked at me strangely for a second, and then shook his head. "I'm sorry. I didn't think about the way you must see us. You don't know anything about us, and Justin, when he's down, doesn't really focus on the positive, so all you've heard is a bunch of negative shit about how we're all a bunch of assholes and crap like that. I can tell from your face."

I didn't say anything. It had occurred to me that Justin might be painting a rather biased picture of his bandmates, but he'd been so emphatic about it. At the same time, though, he'd also talked about how much he loved it, and how close they all were. In one breath he told me that they'd spy on him and meddle in his life, and then in the next he'd refer to them as his friends as if he didn't realize the contradiction between the two. Maybe Joey was right about Justin and his frame of mind, but did that also mean that Chris was, too? Or was the real answer somewhere in between?

"Look, we care about Justin," Joey said. "He's my friend. He's practically my little brother, for God's sake. You don't do the stuff we do, go through all the work and the touring and spending every day together for years on end, and not care about each other, because we're a family. If we weren't, we'd be the Backstreet Boys."

I looked up to see him smirking.

"Just wanted to see if you were paying attention," he said. I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. "I'm just worried about Justin, ok? And yeah, some of that is because I'm worried about the group. I'll admit that. We work because we have chemistry, and a lot of that chemistry comes from JC and Justin, and what's between them. I'm worried because I've never known them without each other. When I joined, they were already here, and they were already best friends. And then, you know, when they got together, that was it. I know they've fought and stuff, and yeah, JC has cheated on Justin, but Justin's never separated himself from JC like this. You're the first, and Justin seems to really like you, but is he ok? Is he dealing with all of this?"

"I think he is," I said. "I mean, he's down, and we try to work through that, but he's convinced this is the right thing for him. JC really, really hurt him. Why did he do that? How could he cheat on him? You just said he's done it before. How can he do that to someone that he's supposed to care so much about?"

I asked it without thinking that it would put Joey in the same situation that he'd just put me in, deciding who to be loyal to, and why. He answered, though, without questioning it.

"I don't know," Joey answered, frowning. "I haven't asked, but, you know, we hear things, and it doesn't make any sense. I know that JC loves Justin, so I just, I can't see why he does it. That's between the two of them, not the rest of us."

"Justin seems to think the rest of you have a hand in their relationship, too," I said, chewing thoughtfully on a chunk of pepperoni. "The way he explained it, every time he fights with JC you all jump in and try to get them back together."

"They're good together," Joey said. "And it's hard not to give an opinion when you're all sitting in the same dressing room. When they're fighting, we're off. It affects all of us, so we feel like we all have a say in it."

"Some of you say more than others," I said sharply.

"Look, I know that Chris has been a little bit of an ass," Joey began, and I cut him off.

"No, you don't know," I said, shaking my head. "You weren't there. He was deliberately hurtful to Justin. From the second he showed up he was an asshole, and all he does every time he opens his mouth is make it worse. Jesus, did he want Justin to sleep out on the street?"

"Actually, I think he wants Justin to sleep with JC," Joey said simply. "Sorry to put it so bluntly, but Chris is um, he's pretty involved in their relationship."

"What about you?" I asked. "I can understand where Lance is coming from, what with thinking it's wrong and all. He's tolerant because they're his friends, but that doesn't really include me, and I can accept that. It's obvious that Chris hates me, but what about you?"

"I'm trying to be opened minded about it," Joey said bluntly. "I don't know you, but you seem nice so far. Like I said, I just want Justin to be happy. I'm willing to give it a chance if he thinks he's going to be happy with you. You know, as long as you don't hurt him. Then I have to break both your knees."

I stared at him, and he broke out into another grin.

"Yeah, but you don't care about the gay thing?" I asked. "I mean, it doesn't bother you?"

"I work in the entertainment industry," Joey answered, smirking. "I used to work in the shows at a theme park. I did drama in high school. Do you get what I'm saying?"

"Yeah, I hear you," I said. "So you're ok, and Lance is married to Jesus, but basically ok. What the hell is Chris's problem, then? Why is he all up in their shit like this?"

"Chris doesn't hate you," Joey said. "Not really."

"Then he's giving a hell of a performance as someone who hates me," I argued. "Really, you should give him an award, because he's doing a bang up job. If he doesn't hate me, why is he so nasty to Justin about this?"

"Because this is all he has," Joey answered. I blinked at him in surprise. "I know it sounds bad, but Nsync is Chris's life."

"I thought he had that clothing thing," I said, trying to remember what it was called.

"Fuman?" Joey asked, and I nodded. "That's not really big enough to carry him. All the rest of us have outside stuff. Justin hasn't said anything, straight out anyway, but he's probably going solo at some point, and he can do it. Lance has his own company, and he's doing a little bit of movie stuff. He and I did one together, and I'm starting to get into that kind of stuff more, too. JC does a lot of work with other musicians, but Chris doesn't have anything else. Like I said, JC and Justin's chemistry is a big part of the group, and Chris sees you as a threat to that."

"And that's just the way it is?" I asked, disheartened.

"For now, yeah," Joey answered. "So, back to my original question, is Justin ok? How is he?"

"He's confused," I said. "Like I said before, JC really hurt him, and he's still trying to sort that out. He also has some other stuff going on. I'm not sure I should talk to you about it, since it's his business, but he's dealing with a lot right now, and on top of that he's decided that he wants to be in a relationship with me, too, and there's a lot to work through there, too."

"He's decided?" Joey asked, his eyes narrowing.

"That didn't come out right," I answered uncomfortably. "I wasn't really looking for a relationship. I don't think Justin was, either, at first, but once he decided, he pursued pretty hard, and now we're together, but it's not easy for either of us right now."

"He's pretty determined when there's something he wants," Joey said. He started folding up the paper towel, gathering his crumbs. "You still hungry?"

"No," I answered. "But thanks. You still got questions?"

"For now, no," he said, shrugging. "You'll be here for a while, 'til you guys figure something out. I just wanted to talk to you a little more, and check on Juju. I vote we go back to bed."

"I'm ok with that," I said, putting the crackers away while he took care of the knife. We'd eaten all the cheese, but he sealed up the pepperoni bag and put it back in the refrigerator. "Joey?"

"Yeah?" he asked, flicking off the light.

"Thanks for being nice," I said. "Whether you're doing it because you mean it, or you're just worried about the band, or whatever, it means a lot to Justin to feel like at least one of you might be on his side, so thank you."

"You're welcome," he said, shrugging. The hallway was lined with nightlights, and we followed them back toward the bedrooms. "We'll have to talk again sometime, soon, but maybe during the daylight hours."

"What were you doing up, anyway?" I asked, trying to remember. Now that I'd eaten I was feeling a little bit groggy, mentally sluggish.

"Checking on the baby," he answered, both of us whispering as we stood in the middle of the hallway. Our rooms were in opposite directions, and I hadn't really had time to explore all the rooms in between.

"You do that a lot?" I asked, curious. I'd never been in a household with a small child. Most of my friends from college were just starting to hit the baby age.

"Not as much as I used to," he answered. I could hear the smile in his voice. "When we first brought her home, I used to wake up like ten times a night, just to go in and check on her, to see if she was ok. Every time she made a noise on the baby monitor I was right there, like a shot. Kelly said I was there more than she was, and she was breastfeeding, for God's sake. I just, I don't know. She means the whole world to me. I can sit and just stare at her for hours, at her eyes and her hair and her hands and her little tiny fingers. They're all so perfect, and I stare at them and listen to her and I know that I helped make her, that she really is a part of me, and that's just, that's an amazing thing."

"Wow," I said, surprised. It seemed like such a personal thing for him to share, and you could feel how much he loved her in every word he said. "Let me start filling out my father of the year nomination."

"Shut up," he snickered.

"Hey, you heard Justin before," I said, smirking. "Only he gets to tell me to shut up."

"Duly noted," Joey said. "Good night."

"Night," I said, padding barefoot down the hall.

When I walked back into the bedroom, carefully closing the door behind me as soundlessly as possible, I could dimly make out Justin in the bed. The sheet had fallen down to his waist, just covering the rise of his ass as he lay on his stomach. One arm was twisted underneath him in a way that had to be painful, but the other was stretched out, the fingers spread as he reached for the spot where my body should be. I couldn't pick out any of his features, not the golden hair or the tattoos or anything else. Instead I could see the outline of him, the dark silhouette he made against the white sheets. My imagination could definitely fill in the blanks, though, shading in that golden tanned coloring, doodling in the cross on his bicep and the little design with his mother's initials on his back. I wanted to be back in bed, to pick up that stray arm and wrap it around me, but instead I went into the connecting bathroom, pulling the door closed behind me.

I'd just had a midnight snack, after all, and needed to brush my teeth.

When I was done, I pulled my t-shirt off, tossing it aside, and slide back into the bed, keeping my bare feet away from Justin in case they were cold. I lifted his arm carefully, trying not to wake him, but as soon as he sensed me in bed, both of his arms shot out like one of those trapdoor spiders on a nature show, and he pulled me against him, wrapping himself around me. I wasn't even sure if he was awake as he pulled my back against his chest, nuzzling at the side of my face as he murmured and made tiny noises, his hands flattened against my torso, one over my heart and the other on my abs. They weren't clutching, not digging into me, but were instead just flattened against me, caressing my skin and holding me in place. I decided that it was best not to struggle, as I'd been lucky to get out of the bed in the first place.

"Justin?" I whispered.

"Mmmmm," he hummed, nuzzling my neck again. I felt his lips tickling at the curve of my ear, feathering along my lobe, and shivered. "Shhhhh."

I shivered again feeling his hot breath flowing over the wet spot he'd just left on the side of my neck, and then I felt his lips at the nape of my neck, kissing along the hairline. His mouth slid down, over my shoulder, kissing lightly as his hands continued to caress me. His kisses were firm, little presses, not his open mouthed sucking, thank God. I was carrying enough marks on me already, and really wanted to tell him to stop leaving them. At the same time, though, he always seemed to brand me with them at times when I was gasping for breath, and unable to try to talk him out of it. While his mouth brushed back and forth over me, lightly tasting the spot where my neck met my shoulder or kissing over the rounded skin where my shoulder started to become my arm, his hands slid down my abs and into the sides of my boxers, moving them down my hips.

I shifted a little, letting him slide them down my legs. His mouth followed his progress down my back, kissing my shoulder blade, then my spine, all the way down until he softly planted one right on the small of my back, just above my crack. His nose was barely touching me, almost tickling, but instead it gave me a little shudder to feel it there, following along where his mouth had been. Every time I'd been with Justin now it had always been something urgent, tongues and hands everywhere, and it was a complete change to have Justin softly kissing me, his hands caressing my calves and thighs as he climbed back up my body, only his fingertips touching me, not even his palms. He traced the curve of my hip with just his index finger as he continued to kiss my shoulder and neck, and my cock throbbed steel hard, waiting for him to touch me there.

Justin pushed gently at my shoulder, rolling me onto my back, and as I turned he kissed his way along my neck and up my jawline to my mouth, pressing his lips firmly to mine. I reached for his face, pulling him to me as he held himself above me, lifted up on his arms, and he caught my hands. While this accomplished part of my goal, since he had to settle his firm, bare chest on mine to use his hands, I winced when he pulled my hands away from him. He kept kissing me, though, as he lifted my arms above my head, resting them above the pillow, and shook his head lightly before he started softly kissing me again. The message was clear. Justin was going to touch me, but for now there was no touching Justin.

This, of course, just made me want him all the more as he began to kiss his way back down my neck. My body arched up toward him, my hands wrapped around the bed rails as he kissed across my collar bone and into the hollow of my throat. I winced a little as he softly kissed the marks he'd left on me on the plane, but, as he had with my back, he was being gentle, not trying to leave new ones. He was making little noises as he moved down me, letting out a little contented hum each time he touched me with his lips, as if there was nothing else he'd rather be doing, and that was almost as much a turn on as the way he was touching me. He kissed across my chest, and then his tongue reached out, slow and catlike, and slid slowly across my nipple. I gasped, and he licked it over and over, like a lollipop, his tongue like wet sandpaper. He trailed across my chest to the other nipple and gave it the same treatment as I writhed beneath him.

Justin bathed my abs with his mouth next, so close to my now weeping, throbbing cock. Every time he touched me it throbbed again, drooling precum all over my stomach, but he still managed to avoid it. He outlined my abs with his tongue, tracing the lines, leaving a wet network of trails across me, but he still held himself above me, keeping his body from touching me except for his mouth. Just as it seemed like he was going to take me in, his breath puffing out onto my wet head, he skipped my cock entirely, sliding down the bed. I let out a whimper of protest, and he shushed me again, not realizing that I could feel his breath from that washing over me, too, and it was just getting me more worked up.

"Justin," I whimpered, feeling the sheets shift as he moved around near the foot of the bed.

"Shhhhhh," he hissed again, moving around. "It's ok. I love you."

I realized that he was pulling off his briefs when I heard him throw them, and then his hands were on my thighs. He pushed my legs apart, kneeling between them, and then I felt his breath on my thighs. Immediately it was followed by his mouth, and I felt Justin's short, bristly hair rubbing on my balls as he kissed the inside of my thighs. My knees rose on either side of him, but he continued to press his mouth against me, worshipping me with it, and then I felt his mouth on my balls and almost came. Justin seemed to sense it, and paused as my arms shook and I gasped for breath. I'd thought things were hot before, the fast times groping each other in bed or on the couch or on the plane, but this was taking things to a whole other level.

When he was assured that I wasn't going to shoot, Justin leaned down and kissed my sack again, mouthing it gently. I couldn't contain my groans, and worried that Joey and Kelly would hear them, but only in the back of my mind. For the most part I was just lost in the feelings radiating up from my groin as Justin pulled a ball into his mouth and sucked it, prodding it with the tip of his tongue. Letting it slip out, he scooped up the other one and did the same, sucking lightly and humming. I felt like my skin was on fire, and I was twisting now, thanking God that it was dark. If I'd been able to see what he was doing, and the way he looked, I might have lost it. At the same time, though, feeling it was just as intense.

When Justin finally let my other ball slide out of his mouth and began kissing his way up my shaft, soft, wet, closed mouth pecks, I couldn't take it anymore, and let go of the bedrails. I didn't mean to rush him, or to force him or anything else. I just wanted to touch him, to feel him, to try to give him a little bit of what he was giving me, but he was having none of it. The second my hands touched him, brushing over his hair, he grabbed them, and twined his fingers through mine, flexing them to hold me tightly, keeping my hands away. While he did it, though, he continued kissing his way up my shaft, and then he finally reached the tip, and folded his mouth over the head. I was wordless, gasping, sucking in air and crying it back out as he just held my head in his mouth, sucking it and rolling his tongue over it, scooping up all of my sticky juices.

I felt his throat working as he swallowed, and then he began to slide his lips down my shaft. My hips pushed involuntarily, trying to feed him more of my hard prick, but he was ready for it, and moved back at the same time, making sure that it went exactly as slowly as he wanted it to. It was driving me insane with need, but at the same time I wasn't going to complain. I couldn't, even if I wanted to. My hips kept moving, pumping into him as my hands tightened, and he kept our hands laced together as he began to bob up and down my cock, swallowing and sucking, humming in the back of his throat as he made his own noises of pleasure. His tongue pressed hard along the bottom of my shaft each time he slid it inside my mouth, and he rolled it over the head each time he pulled back, never letting me slide out completely.

My whole body was shaking now, and I was right at the edge. Another minute or two and I was going to shoot, and I thought Justin wanted it as much as I did, so I was completely surprised when he pulled off of me, letting my hard cock escape his mouth with a soft pop. It slapped my stomach as he kissed his way back up my torso, circling my navel again, stopping at one nipple, and then the other. He still held my hands, keeping me from moving him, and I pressed my whole body to his as he crawled up me. My knees were still raised on either side of him, holding him, and I gasped as I felt his hard cock slide against my wet one. He was a firm, silken weight on top of me, unable to hold himself up again since he was restraining me, and our skin scraped against each other exquisitely as he returned his mouth to mine. It was an open kiss this time, and I tasted a salty trace of myself in him.

"Chris?" he asked softly as I writhed beneath him.

"Yeah, Justin?" I panted. Now? He wanted to talk now?

"Make love to me?" he asked, pleading. "Love me?"

As he asked it he released my hands, and with a movement of his head I looked toward the side table, next to the bed. There was lube there, but no condoms.

"Justin?" I asked, uncertain. This wasn't quite the way I usually did it.

"Please," he whispered again, kissing my neck. "I want to feel you in me. I'm clean, I promise, I swear. Please make love to me."

I thought about it for maybe half a second. I wanted him, and I trusted him.

"How?" I asked, following the pressure of his hands on my back as he turned me.

"On my back," he whispered. "I want to hold you."

"OK," I said, kissing him as I reached for the nightstand.

Justin was trembling beneath me as I brought my slickened fingers to him, and the second I touched him he started to let out those noises that I had grown to appreciate, that collection of sounds he couldn't seem to help from uttering. I wondered if all singers were this vocal, or if this was just one of his own quirks. Either way, it just made me want to touch him more. Every place my fingers brushed him brought a different sound, and I wanted to hear them all. When he was ready I replaced my fingers with my cock, sliding slowly into him, and his back arched beneath me as he pulled my face down to his. I went slow, as slow as he had, even though I was ready to blow, because I wanted him to enjoy this. He certainly sounded like he was.

As I thrust slowly in and out of Justin, my hips rocking back and forth above him, driving me into him, he twisted and arched beneath me, panting and whimpering and crying out. I supported myself with one hand as I just felt him with the other, letting my hand roam over him. I caressed the firm muscle of his chest, feeling it rise and fall beneath my touch. I pinched his nipples gently, not hurting him, rolling them away from his chest, rewarded by a spasming tightening around my cock as I drove into him. Justin was still kissing me, sucking at my mouth with increasing urgency, and I realized that we wouldn't be able to go slow for much longer. I squeezed out more lube and wrapped my hand around his hard cock, gripping it tightly, and began to stroke him in time to my thrusts.

"Oh, Chris," Justin gasped, clawing at my back. "Oh, oh God."

I felt Justin tensing up, felt all those muscles locking up against me, rippling and flexing beneath me, and then he let out a sharp cry as hot wetness spilled over my fingers. I rode through it, gritting my teeth as his ass clamped down on my cock like a vice. As Justin fought to get control of himself again, gasping for air, I began to thrust slowly again, and he gripped my ass with his hands, driving me into him. I couldn't hold out much longer, though, and right after he came I felt him pull me over the edge. He held me against him, his cock sticky and wet between us, as my hips pushed into him, and he kissed the side of my face as I lay on top of him.

"I love you," Justin panted as I lay on top of him. "I love you."

When it was over, after I pulled out of him and carefully cleaned us both off with a wet washcloth as he whimpered but guided my hand, he held me in the dark, and we fell asleep against each other. Before I lost consciousness, I heard him whisper it again, firmly, as if someone had questioned him.

"I love you."

To be continued.

Oooops, I sent in the last chapter twice, instead of sending in this one. Thanks, Mitch, for letting me know.