Obligatory warnings and disclaimers:
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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.
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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 two of them were still working when I was hungry, so I fixed myself a little plate and ate in the kitchen, discovering a small television set in one of the cabinets I hadn't opened yet. I watched it while I ate, since I had no one to talk to and had read the books I'd packed by this point. I figured there had to be books somewhere in the house, since neither of them were illiterate, and a quick peek into the guestrooms that I hadn't been inside yet turned up a bookcase in each, easily replenishing my supply of reading material. Not only were the books neatly shelved, they were also alphabetized, and I wondered if there was a room in the house that JC hadn't subtly organized. I knew it wasn't Justin's influence. If I had to characterize their relationship, based on what I knew about both of them, I'd have to say that Justin picked things out and JC put them away.
Oh well, I thought, taking three or four books and stacking them in the bedroom. Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. Justin was physically gifted, and extremely creative and talented. That more than balanced being a little disorganized, and I wouldn't have him any other way. Nobody was perfect, not even JC, for all his talents as well. If anything, the two of them had probably balanced each other really well, the way that Justin and I did. On the other hand, something must have been missing in their relationship, no matter how well they complemented each other, or else they'd still be together. They both admitted that the relationship hadn't been perfect, and the fact that they were broken up seemed to bear that out.
I wasn't sure why I was thinking about that kind of stuff, anyway. I guess having the guys over, and Joey's overprotective worrying, had gotten me all stirred up inside again. I just needed to remember that things were different. JC wanted Justin to be happy, and Justin wanted to be with me, so I had nothing to worry about. If I kept letting my doubts pick at us like that, if I kept letting them undermine my relationship with Justin, I'd end up like JC had, brokenhearted and alone. There were enough people arguing against us without me doing it, too. I settled in with my new book on a couch in the music room, the stereo playing softly, and decided to just think about the good things that had happened today, and not worry about the bad ones that could happen somewhere down the road.
As it began to get dark outside I realized that the boys hadn't broken for dinner yet. If things were going the way they had the other day, they were probably so deep in their zone that they didn't even realize that they needed to eat, and I decided to go ahead and fix them each a plate. I didn't think they should have food in the studio, since crumbs could get in the machines or something, so I popped their plates in the microwave, grabbed two bottled waters from the refrigerator, and went down the hall to bust in on their session. Somebody had to take care of them if they couldn't take care of each other. When I opened the door of the studio, they were both huddled over the keyboard in the back recording part, JC seated and Justin was leaning over his shoulder, hitting some keys. He was draped over JC, leaning against his back, and the two of them didn't notice me until I was right up at the window. JC saw me first, his eyes widening as he happened to look up, and he tapped Justin on the arm.
"Hey, baby," Justin said, smiling widely as he stood. I realized that the microphones were on as he boomed from the speakers. I didn't know which button to answer, so I just waved as JC stood as well.
"What's up?" JC asked. They both had headphones around their necks, I assumed so that they could hear what they were working on. Justin pulled the door to the recording booth open.
"I thought you guys might be hungry," I said uncertainly. I'd felt a little twinge, a tiny spike of jealousy, when I walked in and saw them leaning so comfortably against each other. Was that what they were doing the whole time they were in here working? Rubbing against each other? "I made you guys plates, in the kitchen."
"Oh my God," Justin exclaimed, looking at his watch. He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek as he breezed past me. "I didn't even realize how late it is! I'm starving! Thanks, baby!"
"No problem," I said, starting to follow him down the hall. What had I walked in on? Had I even walked in on anything, or was I just being stupid? They were friends, best friends, and they were touchy feely. They both said they had been, and really, they were working. I wanted to trust them both, I really did. I loved Justin, and JC was my friend. I heard him behind me as I walked down the hall.
"Chris?" he asked, his voice carrying a note of concern.
"Yeah?" I asked, turning around. He had that little furrow between his eyebrows again.
"Is something wrong?" he asked. "Are you ok?"
I remembered what he said about me not being as good at hiding my emotions as I thought I was. He somehow managed to catch that I was bothered, even if Justin had missed it. At least he was enough of my friend to ask me about it, and I could see from the look in his blue green eyes that he was being sincere. He really wanted to know if something was bothering me, and I shrugged, forcing a smile.
"It's nothing," I said, shrugging. "Come on. Your dinner's going to get cold."
"I'll be right there," he said, heading the other way. "I just have to visit the facilities for a minute. Thanks for busting us up, Chris."
"No problem," I answered sincerely.
I found Justin in the kitchen, happily plowing through the plate I'd made like he was starving to death and had finally been given a meal. You'd never guess that he'd eaten half a steak and a whole chicken breast at lunch, along with side dishes. I went into the cabinets for a bowl, and by the time JC came and took his plate out of the microwave I was ready to sit down with a nice dish of ice cream. No way was I eating a second dinner. I had enough body issues as it was hanging around with the two of them, and wondered what kind of hyper metabolisms they both enjoyed that kept them so thin and trim.
"So, did you guys get a lot done tonight?" I asked, curious.
"Sort of," Justin answered, frowning. I raised my eyebrows curiously.
"The guys didn't like some of the stuff we've done the past couple of days," JC sighed. "Some of it was just little things, but some of it, well."
"I really don't think what you did with 'Drive Myself Crazy' works at all, Justin, JC," Justin sneered in a high pitched mimicry. It could only be Chris he was mocking.
"Justin," JC said, sighing and shaking his head. "Everybody gets an equal voice, and maybe he was right. Maybe it wouldn't have worked in concert."
"We might not even use that song!" Justin said, stabbing at his food. He continued crossly, frowning. "I mean, they all say that they trust us to do it, and that they don't really want to help out because they know we have it under control, and the minute they hear it, it's just one complaint after another. Not only do they want us to mix up five more songs, and the medley, but we have to redo the three that we did already."
"The medley?" I asked, ignoring the more temperamental aspects of Justin's outburst.
"On one of our early tours we did a medley of Bee Gees songs," JC explained, also brushing off Justin's ranting. Maybe he just needed to vent. "We're thinking of doing something similar this tour, something for the parents that come and as sort of an homage to the older, bigger groups, with the Temptations and Motown, stuff like that. The guys suggested the songs, but it still needs to be mixed up, what the transitions'll be, how we'll do the bridges, stuff like that."
"Sounds time consuming," I said, nodding.
"It is," JC said simply. "But we're not really doing anything else for a little while, not as a band, anyway, so we'll have time to work on it."
"And then they'll hate that, too," Justin pouted, his plate almost empty.
"Justin," JC sighed again.
"Whatever," Justin said, sulking, as if that was the answer to his problems. "I'll meet you back in the studio when you're done. I'm going to the bathroom."
Justin dropped his plate in the sink and stomped away, leaving JC and I alone in the kitchen. I sighed.
"Maybe I should go after him," I said, starting to stand.
"He gets this way sometimes," JC said, shrugging. "Sometimes he just forgets that there are four other guys in the band, but he'll come around. You don't mind if we keep working?"
"No," I answered, shaking my head. "Maybe he'll get it out of his system."
I dropped my bowl in the sink on top of Justin's dish, knowing that I'd end up cleaning it later if JC didn't scoop it out and drop it into the dishwasher, and headed down the hall, looking for Justin. He wasn't in the guest bathroom, but I found him in the studio, getting more tape out of the cabinet, slamming things around like that would make him feel better. I came up behind him, a little afraid of bothering him, and touched his shoulder gently. He spun around, but when he saw me he smiled, and pulled me into a hug.
"Don't worry, I'll let you get back to work," I murmured into his neck. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry you're having a bad night."
"It's ok, baby," he said, his hands running up and down my back. He smelled good, warm and tasty, and I kissed along the side of his neck, tasting him, as he sighed happily. "It's just that I finally got to work on this stuff again, and we've been working so hard, and they don't like it. It just pisses me off, you know?"
"I know," I said, trying to be understanding. "I'm sorry, baby. I'll let you get back to work now, ok?"
"OK," he sighed, much calmer as I let him go. "Thanks for dinner, Chris."
"No problem," I said, shrugging, as I headed for the hall. "I'll probably be upstairs when you guys get done, but I'll try to wait up for you."
"I love you," Justin said, not turning around.
"Love you, too," I answered. JC and I nodded to each other in the hallway, and then they got back to work.
I was on the verge of falling asleep, my book put away and all the lights off, when Justin finally came upstairs. I listened to him get ready for bed, taking care of his business in the bathroom, actually setting his alarm clock, and then smiled as I felt him slide beneath the sheet. I turned over, facing him, and he reached out for me, pulling me toward him. As I slid over, carefully pressing my front to his, I realized he was completely naked, and my hands started to slide down his torso, over his smooth pecs and rippled abs, as he began to kiss me softly on the mouth. I found his cock, half hard, and began to lightly caress it with both hands as it stiffened, and he let out a high pitched sigh that turned into a whimper as I began to lightly stroke him.
"Chris," he whispered, pulling me on top of him as his legs came up on either side of me. His hands slid down my back, beneath my boxers to cup my ass, before he started to slide them down. "Chris, please make love to me. Please."
"Of course I will," I whispered between kisses.
Sometimes Justin like it fast and rough, urging me on with dirty talk, raking his nails up and down my back or making me turn him over so that I could slam into him from behind while I watched his tanned back flex and twist beneath me. Tonight, though, he wanted it slow and tender, which was a way that I actually preferred. As hot as the other way was, as satisfying in its own animal kind of way with the quick spontaneity, I felt like this way was more respectful of him, like it was somehow more like the treatment he was worthy of. It also gave me time to savor the experience, to listen to his sighs and whimpers, to watch his muscles flex and his eyes squeeze closed in pleasure, and I smothered his face with kisses as he arched and writhed beneath me. When he finally came, pearly arcs shooting across his stomach, some of them even reaching up to his chest, I let go as well, wanting to make sure he was taken care of before I finished, and we fell asleep against each other as he mumbled that he loved me.
In the morning we woke up together at the sound of his alarm, both of us stumbling crankily out of bed and into the bathroom to shower together. We washed each other, doing each other's backs, and Justin laughed as I playfully claimed to be trying to scrub off his tattoos. There was a lot of kissing and touching, but no sex, and when the shower was over Justin sat very still on the edge of the tub as I shaved him, clearing out a couple of days worth of stubble. I'd never really thought of that as an erotic act, but there was something about the way he closed his eyes, tilting his head back and trusting me completely that was at once tender and sexual. When he was done I let him do the same for me, and discovered that it worked both ways. It was surprising that we even managed to get dressed with the amount of touching and caressing and kissing that went on in the bedroom.
JC was in the kitchen, apparently having set his alarm clock for the same time, when we came downstairs. He'd already turned on the coffeemaker for me, and smiled at both of us as Justin went straight to the cabinets to get a bowl and his cereal.
"Good morning," I said, pouring out a tall cup. Over the course of the morning I would end up drinking the whole pot, which couldn't be good for me, but was too long a habit for me to break now.
"Morning," he smiled, standing over a pan at the stove. "Cheese eggs?"
"Sure," I said. "I assume from the alarms that you two are planning to work today?"
"Yeah," Justin answered, kissing me on the cheek as he walked by. "Could you do us both a favor, please?"
"Sure," I answered, waiting.
"Break us at noon for lunch?" Justin asked, pouring the milk onto his cereal. "We'll just forget to eat otherwise."
"No problem," I said, happy that my interruption would be welcomed. "Anything special you want?"
"Leftovers will be fine," JC said, sliding a plate of cheese laden scrambled eggs in front of me. "We still have plenty left from yesterday, and we should probably eat them before we get tired of them."
When I went down at noon they were in much better spirits than they'd been in last night, and they were both smiling and relaxed at lunch. Even though they'd said leftovers were fine, I'd consulted some of the cookbooks I found in JC's cookbook drawer, and transformed some of what we had into new meals. They were both pretty appreciative, and when lunch was over JC pressed a wad of money into my hand.
"You don't have to pay me for lunch," I said, confused, and he and Justin both laughed.
"It's for dinner," JC said. "Order at 5:30, and come grab us when it gets here?"
"Sure," I said, smiling. I realized that I was really happy, not only that we were getting along but also that we'd now coasted through consecutive days of tranquility. Nobody had cried, argued, or run out of the room, and I was also happy to see the two of them getting so much accomplished. "Does it matter where I order from?"
"No preference," Justin answered, and JC shrugged as well. "You know where the menus are."
I spent the afternoon floating around the pool, reading as I lay on a giant float with a cup holder. There were even speakers for the sound system out here, like I'd seen at Johnny's house, and after a little experimentation I figured out how to operate them as well, once I figured out where they kept the remote. When it was time to order, I picked out Chinese, knowing that JC liked it and that Justin would enjoy a change, since we'd been eating so much American lately what with all the leftovers. By the time the food arrived, I'd rinsed off the chlorine and set the table, and when I got the guys from the studio they were both still in the happy mood they'd been in at lunchtime.
"We got so much done today," Justin said happily. "We finished reworking 'Sailing' the way they said to, and got started on 'I Want You Back' and on the medley."
"That's great," I said, smiling. "I worked on my tan, and read an entire book."
"You are looking a lot less white," Justin said, leaning over and kissing me on the nose. "I thought redheads didn't tan."
"It's a careful process," I said, half serious. "Almost like a science."
"Like JC's hair," Justin teased, smiling. JC shook his head, rolling his eyes.
"Please," JC said, smiling widely enough to actually bare his teeth. "You should have been here during the heydey of the big blond 'fro."
"Hey!" Justin said sharply, obviously not enjoying having the tables turned on him.
"I've seen pictures," I said, giggling.
"Pictures can't do it justice," JC laughed. "They don't chronicle the process. Two shampoos, conditioner, blow drying, leave in conditioner, gel, then spray, and sometimes even mousse. The cornrows and the bandanna were the best hair choices he ever made before our current shaved head special."
"At least I'm not the one growing in a mullet," Justin said, sulking. I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.
"I'm sure you looked hot either way, baby," I soothed. Justin stuck his tongue out at JC as JC rolled his eyes again.
They'd put in so much work that after dinner JC called for a bodyguard, and we decided to all head out for a movie. The theater, unlike any I'd been to, actually served beer, and we sat in a small balcony on couches. There was a divider arm down the middle, but once the lights went down Justin and I put it up, and spent the movie holding hands and resting against each other. JC and the bodyguard shared the other couch, but I noticed that they kept the arm in the middle down. I followed Justin's lead, not wanting to make any moves in public that would make him uncomfortable, but nobody recognized us, and we were both interested enough in what we were watching to avoid making out. That didn't stop us from doing it in the car, though, and when we got home we had another long, slow night of lovemaking.
When it was over, and Justin and I were spooned together, wrapped in the sheets as he nuzzled at the back of my neck, he whispered in the darkness.
"Chris, is it ok if we're not home tomorrow?" he asked.
"Me and you?" I asked. It's not like I had any important plans. "Where do you want to go?"
"No, not me and you," he sighed, his voice a little uncertain. His arms were wrapped around me, and I squeezed the hand that pressed against my chest. "Me and JC. We have to work on mixing up the medley, and we need a better studio for that, because there's so many tracks that we have to start with. After we get it roughed out we can bring it back here. Johnny said he can get us some time tomorrow at one of the studios here in town."
"Sure, baby," I answered. I knew his work was important to him.
"You don't mind?" he asked. "I know we haven't done much lately, except for the movie tonight, but JC and I, we're really in a zone with this, and I don't want to lose that."
"But you'll risk it if I say so?" I asked.
"Yeah," he answered without hesitating. "I love you."
"I love you, too," I answered. "Go do your stuff, ok?"
"OK," he answered happily. "I'll leave you some money for lunch, if you want, and then we'll go out to eat for dinner, ok? I'll take you someplace nice."
"Sure baby," I answered. "Whatever you want."
In the morning I went back to sleep when Justin's alarm clock went off, and I barely felt his kiss goodbye before he left for the day. When I finally did come down I saw that they'd brewed me an entire pot of coffee and left it in a sealed carafe to stay warm, and they'd both written me notes on the board on the refrigerator.
"Chris, love you! Lunch money is on the counter. Will call you about dinner. Studio number is at the bottom of the board in case of emergency, or call my cell. Love Justin"
I smiled when I saw that he'd drawn little hearts all the way around his message. JC, in a similar vein, had surrounded his with little happy faces and stars that seemed to dance.
"Dear Chris: Thank you so much for letting us work on this. If you feel as if you need to purchase large expensive gifts in order to make up for spending another day by yourself, here's Justin's American Express number. Catalogs are in the music room in the magazine rack. Your friend, JC."
"PS: Better that you use JC's Platinum Discover card, as it will pay him cash back with your every purchase. Here's the number. - Justin"
I was laughing out loud by the time that I got to the end of the board, and saw that they had even included actual credit card numbers. Did they really expect me to buy something? I thought about it, wondering if I should order some sex toys on Justin's card and then tip off one of the tabloids, and then I wondered if I'd been possessed by the spirit of Joey to even think such a prank would be funny. By the afternoon I was kind of listless and bored enough to actually look through a few of the catalogs I found in the music room, but I really didn't want any presents. I wanted to spend some time with my boyfriend, and when six rolled around and he still hadn't called I rang the studio. I gave the receptionist the password Justin had left, so they'd know that I really was authorized to ask about them, and then asked if she could ring through to them or drop them a message.
"I'm sorry, sir, but Mr. Timberlake and Mr. Chasez left a few hours ago," she said.
"Are you sure?" I asked. They should have been home by now.
"Positive," she answered. "Mr. Chasez left in a taxi with their escort, and then Mr. Timberlake left in his car."
"Thanks," I said.
I wondered why they had left separately. Had they gotten into a fight? Had they had a disagreement of some kind, and gone to cool off? Where would they go if neither of them had come back here? And why hadn't Justin called me? Were we still going to dinner? Was he ok? Did he need me? I called his phone, but got the voicemail.
"Justin, it's Chris. I just wanted to check on you, because I called the studio to ask about dinner, and they said you left. Please call me and let me know what's going on."
After a half hour of anxious pacing I called him again, but still just got the voicemail.
"Justin, please call me. I'm worried about you, baby. I hope you're ok, and I love you."
After that I decided to eat, but could barely summon up any appetite. After my half hearted attempt at dinner the house was still empty, and I tried to figure out where he would be. I didn't have his mother's number, and I didn't want to call Johnny yet, not knowing what the situation was. I tried JC's phone, figuring that even if he was mad at Justin, he would still talk to me, but I only got the voicemail there, too. I didn't leave a message, not wanting to without knowing why he'd left or where he'd gone. I called Joey's phone, wondering if one of them would have gone there, but Joey's voicemail said he and Kelly had gone out of town with Bri for a while. That left me with Chris's number, and I wasn't about to call him and tell him I'd lost my boyfriend. I was stressed out enough already, and didn't need his shit making it any worse.
When I got tired of pacing the house I wondered if maybe I should look around to see where Justin kept his appointment book, as that would probably have phone numbers in it. Then again, he probably had it with him, and I didn't feel comfortable picking through his stuff. I'd feel even more uncomfortable if he walked in while I was doing it. On the other hand, I was getting a little worried. It had been hours since I'd called the studio, and there was still no sign of Justin. Thoughts of Matt started to surface in my head, I actually got worried enough to turn on the news, figuring that if he was in an accident or if something had happened to one of the others I would be able to catch it on MTV, if nothing else.
I woke up on the couch, the television still on, just after midnight. The house was completely dark, and I wondered what had woken me before I heard a door close upstairs. Whichever one of them it was, I needed to find out what the hell was going on. I was worried, and scared, and now had managed to get a little angry, too, and I raced up the steps, not even bothering to be quiet. JC's door was open a little, but his room was dark. Mine and Justin's door was closed, and light glowed along the bottom edge. I opened it quietly, but the bedroom was empty. There was a little pile of clothing on Justin's side of the bed, and as my eyes followed it to the bathroom door Justin stepped out in his briefs, wiping a little bit of toothpaste from his lip. His blue eyes caught mine, but his face was carefully, completely blank, and I stopped at the door.
"Justin?" I asked, even though it was clearly him. I guess I just wanted to be sure I had his attention. "Are you ok?"
"Yeah," he answered, not moving either.
"Where have you been?" I asked, confused. Why was he being so quiet? What the hell was going on? "You never called me for dinner! I have been calling your phone! I was worried about you!"
"I was driving around," he answered, as if this explained anything.
"Justin!" I snapped, getting pissed. "I said I was worried about you! You didn't come home, you didn't call, and I didn't know how to reach you, or if something happened, or what."
"Sorry," he said, shrugging. "I was thinking about some stuff."
"And that's it?" I asked, crossing my arms. "That's all you're going to tell me? I was worried, Justin! I thought something happened to you."
"Look, I said I was sorry," he snapped, frowning, his voice starting to take on that whining, spoiled tone that scraped right across all my nerves. What the hell was wrong with him? I'd been scared to death that something happened to him, and he'd apparently been driving around all night letting his phone ring.
"Justin, what's wrong?" I asked. Something must be bothering the hell out of him. I walked around the bed, reaching for him, and skidded to a stop when he stepped away. "Justin?"
"I don't want to talk about it," he said, shaking his head. "It's late, and I'm tired, and I just want to go to sleep, ok?"
"OK, fine," I said, heading for the bathroom.
Apparently we weren't going to talk. Apparently we weren't going to discuss whatever was bothering him, or the way he'd just pulled away from me. Had I done something wrong? Was I not supposed to worry about him? Was something else going on? And why was the best excuse he could offer, "I'm sorry"? He didn't even sound sincere. He was always sorry when he did something stupid and self centered and jerky, and apparently I was just supposed to take it again. Whatever was bothering him was a lot more important than me sitting around the house for hours, unable to go anywhere since I didn't have a car, not even knowing where to go anyway, and not really having any numbers to reach him. What if he hadn't come back ever again?
What if I told him goodbye, and he was just gone? Taken away from me? Left me behind?
I'd forced myself not to consider it while he was still missing, but now that he was back it was all crashing down on me. Walking back into the darkened bedroom after I switched off the bathroom light, I tried to rationalize it, but my hands were shaking. After all, he must be really upset to have been gone this long. Something must have him really hurt or scared for him to be unable to talk about it, and now that I thought about it, he did look tired, like he'd really been struggling with something. He'd come back exhausted, upset, and all I'd done was bark at him and demand to know where he was. Half of me thought I was entitled to it, but the other half argued that I was being pushy and overbearing, and I wondered if I should apologize right before another voice argued that I was completely justified and being upset and had nothing to apologize for. I slid into my side of the bed and reached across, meaning to comfort him, to hold him and tell him everything would be ok, and just to tell him how happy and how relieved I was just to have him here with me again, safe.
When my fingers brushed his shoulder, he jerked away.
"Not tonight, Chris, ok?" he snapped. "I'm tired. I just want to go to sleep."
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him I'd just wanted to help, but the nasty tone he'd just used, the sneering pissed off voice, froze the words in my throat. I rolled over and went to sleep, curling up on myself, never realizing before just how big that bed actually was.
To be continued.