Joey is the first one to notice, or at least the first one to say something.
"Hey, Justin," he says as they're all grabbing breakfast together one morning after a show. "You've got enough groupies of your own, how about not poaching mine?" His tone is easy, but there's an edge to it.
Justin looks up from pouring his cereal. "Huh?" he asks, his blue eyes wide and guileless. JC knows that Justin only looks that innocent when he's up to no good.
"C'mon, that cute blonde from last night? I spent like an hour listening to her babble about what a profound effect our music has had on her life, then I get up to get us another drink, come back all ready to close the deal, and she's leaving. With you."
Justin shrugs. "Sorry, Joe. Didn't realize you'd singled her out."
JC knows that he's lying.
"Whatever." Joey dismisses it with a shrug. It's only important to him that Justin understands he hasn't gotten away with it, the girl herself is the least important aspect of the whole situation. "How was she?"
"Whatever," Justin echoes. "You know, the usual. Groupie sex." They all nod in agreement, and nothing more really needs to be said.
They all do it. Life on the road gets lonely, and every time they turn around there are women practically begging for it. Sometimes actually begging for it. There's no commitment implied or expected. It's just sex, good clean fun, and more often than not, the simple need for a warm body to ward off the chill of yet another empty hotel room.
Every night they go on stage and feel love and lust and frenzy pouring at them from every corner of the huge stadiums. They feed off it, bathe in it, channel it through themselves and each other and into their performances. Then the lights go off and they go home alone, and sometimes it's just too much of a transition to make.
They stopped feeling guilty a long time ago, for the most part. This is something separate from relationships or love. If they're using these girls, well, they're being used just as much in return. No matter how much the girl gushes about seeing the real person behind the star persona, the reality is that they're 'in love' with a picture in a glossy magazine and a body gyrating in tight leather pants.
At times it gets to be too much, and one of them will decide that the loneliness is better than the emptiness, that no sex is preferable to groupie sex. These periods of celibacy usually last a few weeks before the tension builds back up and they find themselves snapping at their bandmates or missing their cues. Then it isn't long before they're whispering in a girl's ear to come around back and meet one of the bodyguards, who will bring her up to the room. They rarely leave with a girl; they're too careful for that.
There are a lot of things they have to be careful about, and they always are. Condoms are a must, of course. They'd as soon have sex with a groupie without a condom as they'd go on stage without their monitors. And they've developed a sixth sense about the two biggest dangers: reporters, and jailbait. None of them wants to find themselves the topic of a lurid tabloid article – "My Night of Passion: 'N Sync 'X Posed!" And while it's funny to tease Justin about a lawsuit that claims he yelled at a girl who said JC was cuter, no one would be laughing about a statutory rape charge. Justin, the most paranoid of them all, has been known to demand to see ID before laying a hand on a girl, and if he's not sure if it's fake he'll ask Lonnie to check it out.
They're famous and rich and adored, and they can afford to be choosy. They each tend toward a certain type most of the time. Chris likes them blonde and perky and bubbly, the kind of girl who would have been head cheerleader in high school (and who probably wouldn't have given Chris a second glance). Class clown Joey likes the serious, quiet ones. Lance gravitates toward slim-hipped, androgynous girls – "Just pick up a guy already, Bass," Chris snorted on one occasion. JC likes the Lolita type – pouty lips and wide eyes that show a wisdom beyond their years. Justin likes them all – women of every type. No one knows what whim will lead him toward a certain girl on any given night.
Joey is the only one who sometimes lets them spend the night. The rest of them can't stand to have the groupies around once the deed is done, and though they're polite about it, the girls usually find themselves out in the hall in short order. It's not chivalrous – which is probably why Joey has the hardest time kicking them out – but it's a necessity if they want to keep themselves sane. The sex is only a release, just short of mechanical, more rote than the dance steps they do on stage every night. When they're dancing they're doing it together, intimately interacting with each other on a level they never even approach with these girls.
Armed with Joey's accusations and Justin's lie, JC starts watching Justin. That night he stands on the other side of a dark, smoky club, watching Justin watch Chris, who is putting the moves on a blonde with long hair down to her waist. When she gets up to go to the ladies room, Justin makes his own move.
He's using his bashful approach, the one where he acts like he could barely get up the nerve to talk to her in the first place. JC can't hear them from across the room, but he can imagine the conversation as if he's standing beside them. "Hi… I'm Justin," he'll say as if he doesn't expect her to know who he is. When she says that she likes him, or his music, or that she enjoyed the concert, his eyes light up as if it's the first compliment he's heard all night. "Really? You liked it?" he's saying, with that breathless amazement that always leads reporters to say that Justin Timberlake is just a normal guy without a star-sized ego. Eventually he'll lead up to, "You know, it's so crowded here. Would you like to go someplace… quieter… and… talk?" He says it as if he expects her to say no, with enough hesitation to make sure she knows that "talking" isn't what's really on his mind. By now she's completely dazzled by how sweet and unassuming the great pop star really is, and all that's left is for Justin to tell her where to meet the bodyguard, and he'll follow in a few minutes.
JC watches the girl leave, then angles across the club so that his path intersects Justin's at the door. Justin turns when he feels JC's hand on his shoulder.
"Why?"
That's all JC asks. The good thing about knowing someone this well is that you don't have to waste words on the obvious. The bad thing is that Justin can't pretend he doesn't know what JC's asking.
Justin smiles, but it's his stage smile, the one that says, "I'm the Justin Timberlake, and I know you all love me," a smile that never quite reaches his eyes.
"Because I can."
JC keeps watching. He notices that Justin only does it on show nights. On all other nights he goes home alone.
He doesn't even seem to have a pattern. One night it might be Chris' girl, the next Joey's, and then Chris' again. One week he goes on a run, taking girls from Lance four times in a row.
By now the other guys can't help but notice. Justin evades their questions, however, and JC never tells them about the one cryptic answer Justin has given.
Justin never takes a girl from JC, but that's probably because JC isn't sleeping with anyone. He's too wrapped up in the mystery, of trying to figure out what it is that Justin is looking for, and whether or not he's finding it. Somewhere deep down JC thinks that Justin knows that he's watching, and likes it, and it's another aspect of the enigma.
One night JC does his own end run around Justin's maneuver, meeting the girl before she can make the connection with Lonnie and be brought back to the hotel. She's miffed but she leaves, and JC rides back to the hotel in the empty limo. Lonnie doesn't ask any questions. He never does.
JC opens the hotel room door, using the key card Justin gave the groupie. The room is empty and he can hear water running in the bathroom. "I'll be right out, darlin," Justin calls out, purposely thickening his southern accent. "Make yourself comfortable." JC just sits down on the end of the bed.
Justin comes out of the bathroom with his stage smile already in place, but it falters a notch when he sees JC sitting there. "What the hell?"
"Your little friend couldn't make it," JC answers blandly.
Recovering from his surprise, Justin's mask is back firmly in place, and he ambles over to JC with a rolling, fluid grace. "So does this mean you're volunteering to take her place, hmmmm?" He comes to a stop well within JC's personal space, and trails a finger idly down his chest.
JC grabs his hand. "Cute. No, I'm just trying to figure out what the hell your game is here, Jus." He's not completely immune to Justin's seductive charms, especially when they're turned on him with full force, but he's trying to act as if he's not affected by Justin's nearness, his touch, or the hot breath blowing in his ear.
Justin seems amused by JC's indifference. "Games are fun, Jace. You should try them sometime. Much more fun than going back to that cold hotel room alone. You've been doing a lot of that lately, haven't you?" He shifts his weight onto the bed, practically draping himself over JC now. The hand that JC hasn't captured is idly rubbing circles at the nape of his neck, toying with the long silky strands of hair.
JC wants to stand up and move away, but he somehow senses this will be conceding defeat, and he isn't willing to give up any ground yet. "I think it's interesting that you're considering expanding your horizons to include boys, but I was kind of more interested in talking about what you've been doing with the girls. Specifically the girls that our friends are trying to pick up, that you're snatching from under their noses."
Justin's laugh is low and sexy and sends shivers up JC's spine, although he tries to suppress them. "Oh, JC. Do you really think this would be the first time I was with a guy? Maybe I'm not the one who needs to have their horizons expanded." As if to punctuate his words, his teeth graze JC's earlobe, causing JC to shudder again. He's dimly aware that he's not so much restraining Justin's hand as caressing it, and that he's instinctively leaning into the heavy weight of Justin's arm around his shoulders.
"Besides," Justin continues, his lips blazing a trail down JC's neck, "The girls haven't complained, have they? And we both know that the guys haven't had any trouble lining up replacements who're only too willing to take the place of any girls I might snatch away from them."
JC tries to remember how to breathe. "But why?" he asks, and hates the fact that it comes out almost as a moan.
His question is answered with silence, and he isn't sure if he's being ignored or not. Then Justin sits back, pulling his hands away abruptly. "Don't you ever get tired of how easy it is, Jace?"
JC turns, startled by Justin's abrupt shift from seductive siren to sulking boy. "How easy what is?"
"All of it. Everything we want, just waiting for us, whenever we want it. Food, games, someone to fuck. Hell, sometimes I think that I don't even have to bother with foreplay, that they're getting off more on doing it with the great Justin Timberlake than they possibly could from anything I would do to them."
They've each felt like that on occasion, but it still doesn't explain to JC why Justin is behaving this way. "And how is this different?"
"Because I have to work for it. Put some effort into it. Make them want me. For me."
"And you think that's what you've been doing? You think that because you can convince a girl to leave with you instead of Joey or Lance or Chris that she's not doing it because of *NSYNC? You don't think that was part of the reason she wanted them in the first place? Hell, half the girls the rest of us get probably do it because they think it's a way to meet you." Justin seems taken aback by this, but JC isn't done. Not by a long shot. "And don't give me this crap about them wanting you for you. You're putting on personas the same way you put on costumes during a show. It's not about them wanting you for you, it's about them wanting you, period. So you become whatever you think they'll want, whether it's the shy one or the bold one or the glittering superstar or the down to earth regular guy. And every single one is an act. I know the real you, Justin, and I haven't seen him."
"Maybe you don't see as much as you think you do."
He feels like all Justin is doing is talking in riddles tonight. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Justin sighs. "Never mind. Forget it. I just wanted it to be... something. I don't know. More."
"Just... if you're trying to find deeper meaning in groupie sex, you're lookin' in the wrong place. You know that."
And just like that, Justin changes again, the gleam coming back into his eyes as he tilts his head back to study JC. "So you think I should maybe look... closer?"
This time, JC does get up and move away before Justin can touch him. "I'm flattered that you see me as a challenge, but you can get your cheap thrills somewhere else."
Justin licks his lips, looking at JC in a way that is frankly sexual. "Oh, Jace. I may be easy... but I'm not cheap."
"I give up, okay? If you want to stop playing games and talk to me, let me know." JC throws his hands up in defeat, and heads for the door.
He's almost out of the room when he hears Justin laugh. "Haven't you figured it out yet? It's all a game. Our whole lives. One big fucking game."
JC doesn't know how to answer that, either.
They're at a stalemate. When they go out, JC watches Justin, and Justin watches JC. Both of them go home alone.
JC thinks they're circling each other, that he isn't sure anymore who's the hunter and who's the prey. Isn't sure when he even started thinking of Justin in those terms. He thinks it might have been around the time that he felt those hot lips on his neck. Though that's something he tries not to think about too much.
Justin doesn't try to take girls from the others anymore, and JC knows he's waiting. Waiting for JC.
Waiting for JC to try and pick up someone, so that Justin can prove to him that it's as easy to take someone from him as it was to take all those girls from the rest of them.
Finally, JC has had enough; he decides to up the ante. If this is the game that Justin wants to play, then JC will be more than happy to help provide the challenge he claims to want so badly.
So the next time they go out after a show, JC picks up a guy.
He's cute, tall with shaggy blonde hair and a quick smile. He reminds JC of Nick Carter for some reason. Which should really piss Justin off.
It's not hard to do, and it's certainly not the first time he's done it. He's breaking an unwritten rule, though, one that is kept almost as sacred as no reporters and no jailbait: no one that would cause a scandal. If you're going to do something that could get an ugly label slapped on you, you do it out of sight of the adoring crowds.
So JC has picked up guys before -- and he knows some of the others have, too -- but always in some out of the way place, where people either don't recognize him or are kind enough to pretend they don't. Not in a club packed with just barely legal girls in little groups of giggling excitement, hardly able to stand being so close to their idols.
The guy is nice, smooth, doesn't seem flustered. The men never seem as flustered as the women, though. They talk for a little while, and dance a little, as much as they can get away with in a straight club. JC can feel Justin watching them as they sit in a corner booth, the table hiding the fact that the guy's hand is creeping up his leg, stroking his thigh. It's not an unpleasant situation, but JC doesn't want to get too worked up, since he figures that there's a good chance he's going home alone again tonight. At least if Justin gets his way.
JC excuses himself to use the bathroom, giving Justin the opening he's been waiting for. If he dares.
He's startled when he turns around from the urinal and Justin is standing there, eyes hooded, watching him with a look on his face that JC can't read. "Interesting choice, JC."
"Thought you'd think so." JC keeps his voice even. "You were the one who suggested I broaden my horizons, weren't you?"
Justin moves closer. "Well, if you really want to do that..." Justin's hand snakes out, grabbing JC's ass, squeezing tight for an instant then lingering before he pulls away. "Maybe you should just come join us. Although I do wish you hadn't chosen someone who looks so much like a Backstreet Boy."
And Justin is gone, leaving JC just standing there staring after him.
When he comes out of the bathroom, both Justin and the guy are gone. JC never even learned his name.
He sits down to finish his beer, and feels something sharp digging into him. Reaching into his back pocket, he finds a key card from their hotel. Not his room. Justin's. He must have slipped it into his pocket when he grabbed him in the bathroom.
When he finishes the drink, he tells the others he's going back to the hotel.
Once he's there he paces his room, turning the key card over and over in his hand. He thought he had figured out Justin's game, but now he's not so sure.
It's not about him, it's never been about him, and he should just let it go. This mystery, or whatever it is. Let Justin do whatever he wants. With whomever he wants. He closes his eyes, leans back against the wall, and sees vivid, colorful images of the guy and Justin, entwined on a bed. Like stills from a photo shoot, they flash in front of his eyes.
JC thinks maybe this is one challenge of Justin's he should just walk away from.
He's still thinking that when he finds himself walking purposefully down the hall. He stops in front of Justin's door, and instead of knocking, slips the card quietly into the lock. When he hears it click, he throws it open so hard it bangs against the wall.
And sees Justin, sitting on the bed waiting for him. Alone. "Took you long enough," Justin says easily, but his eyes are bright. With... something. Triumph? Anticipation? JC isn't sure.
"You're... he... I don't understand." JC looks around the room, confused.
The door is still gaping open, and Justin gets up to close it. JC watches him warily, fighting a silly urge to back away. Though with the door closed behind him, there isn't very far he can go.
"Yes, you do. You just don't know it yet." And with that cryptic remark, Justin is on him.
JC finds himself pressed back against the door, his breath leaving him in a gasp as Justin latches onto his mouth. These aren't sweet little nibbles like the last time, this is a hot, demanding pressure. JC's lips part, and he feels Justin's tongue plunge into his mouth, and he's overwhelmed with need for something he hadn't even known he wanted.
The room feels like it's spinning as JC kisses back, hands frantically groping at Justin's broad shoulders. Justin's own hands seem to be everywhere, all over him, and he can't breathe, can barely think about anything other than the sensations shooting through his body. When Justin reaches into his pants and grabs his cock with a smooth, firm pressure, JC's knees nearly buckle.
Justin holds him up, hands on his hips, as he sinks to his knees in front of JC. JC barely has time to process what's happening -- what's about to happen -- before Justin's mouth engulfs him, and then he doesn't think at all. All he is aware of is wetness and heat, and he moans, no longer caring if this makes sense at all. His world narrows to the feelings roaring through his body, to the flutter of Justin's tongue and the tightness of Justin's throat. Justin pulls back suddenly, and JC whimpers, hips thrusting out blindly for the lost sensations.
"Shhhh," Justin whispers throatily, and JC looks down to see that Justin is staring up at him through his eyelashes, and sucking on his own finger. Just the sight of those pink lips and sultry eyes is enough to almost send him over the edge right there, and he reaches down to grab his cock and stroke himself to completion. But Justin swats his hand away, laughing, and leans back into him, his mouth resuming its attack. JC feels Justin's hand caressing the back of his thighs, then between his legs, and then that moist finger starts to gently press inside him.
If he thought he was in overload before, his brain is practically short-circuiting now. His hips thrust again, involuntarily, back against the probing finger, forward into the heat and suction. It doesn't take long before Justin hits his prostate, and that's all it takes for him to come so hard he nearly loses consciousness.
He thinks maybe he did black out for a few seconds there, because there's a bit of disorientation when he realizes that Justin is standing up, helping him slip off his clothes and pulling him toward the bed. Justin sheds his own clothes along the way, and when they tumble onto the bed they're both gloriously naked. JC is transfixed by the sight of all that smooth, golden skin, and can't stop himself from reaching out to touch.
Justin makes a noise that's a cross between a moan and a purr, and that's all the encouragement JC needs. His lips trace the line of Justin's jaw while his fingers run over his chest, circling and teasing at the hard nipples. He would have sworn to himself that up until recently he'd never even thought about this, but then he has to find out if that spot between Justin's neck and shoulder is as sweet as it looks, and if Justin's stomach muscles will jump if he licks a line from his groin to his belly button, and if he can make Justin moan if he uses his teeth on one of his rock-hard biceps. It is, and they do, and he can, and he starts to think that maybe he's spent more time than he thought wondering what it would be like to explore Justin's body. If he has, then there's no way that his fantasies could have possibly lived up to the reality.
He feels drunk, although he only had one beer at the club, heady with the knowledge that he's making Justin moan and writhe beneath him. It's intoxicating, and he doesn't want to stop until he's tasted and touched every inch. Justin isn't going to wait that long, though, and he can only take so much of the sensual torture before he pulls at JC's hands, capturing his wrists above his head and rolling them so that Justin is now on top.
They kiss again, deep and long, their bodies fitting together perfectly. JC is getting hard again, and he can feel Justin's erection pressing into his hip. He rubs sinuously up against it, and Justin thrusts back hard for a second before he pulls back to look at JC.
"Can I...?" he asks, his eyes so bright they almost look lit from within. JC nods, unable to look away from that incandescent gaze. How could he ever say no to this man? Why would he even want to?
Justin pulls away far enough to grab at something in the nightstand and JC shifts a little, parting his legs and pulling them up to wrap around Justin's waist. Justin is careful, almost teasing, opening him slowly one finger at a time. By the time he has three fingers pushed inside him, JC is completely aroused again, whimpering with need.
Their eyes are still locked together when Justin enters him, slow and steady. There's a momentary sparkle of pain, and JC takes a long breath and relaxes into it. Justin's eyes flutter closed and he lets out a long sigh, before looking down at JC again. "Wow," he breathes, and the sparkle takes on a new texture as Justin starts to move, still cautiously, shallow thrusts that tease and entice JC.
"More," he growls, pushing up to meet Justin, pulling him completely into his body. He's fascinated to watch the struggle in Justin's eyes as he tries not to lose control, and the wildness that leaps into them when he loses. JC knows he can't stop himself now, as he pounds into him uncontrollably, and JC doesn't want him to. He's as fierce as Justin is now, and the sound of their bodies slapping together is a new kind of music for the two of them.
Watching Justin's face as he comes inside of him is the most beautiful thing that JC has ever seen in his life. Still in the throes of it, Justin reaches down and grabs JC's cock, and two firm strokes are all it takes for him to come again.
They come down slowly, still wrapped around each other, the sweat cooling on their bodies. Justin is the first to move, rolling off the bed and stumbling to the bathroom. JC hears water running and a second later Justin is back, wiping him clean with a warm washcloth. JC smiles in thanks; he isn't sure if he can even move.
Justin pulls the covers up over them and they snuggle back together, naked and sated. "Why'd we wait so long to do that?" JC asks idly, fingers stroking down the smooth line of Justin's back. "Because... wow."
"Because you're a dumbass," Justin answers back, his tone fond. JC thinks he should probably take offense to that, but he feels entirely too good. "I knew we'd be fucking unbelievable. You were the clueless one."
"So you've... you had... thought about it?"
JC can feel Justin's body shake as he laughs. "Fuck yeah. Thought. Fantasized. Jerked off. You name it."
And again JC feels like he's missing some important part of the puzzle. "But why... I still don't understand."
Justin props himself up on one elbow, running his fingers across JC's forehead and down the bridge of his nose to his lips. "You may be beautiful, but you're not always the sharpest tack in the box, Jace."
JC kisses absently at Justin's fingertips. "Careful. All this flattery might go to my head," he says wryly, though he still isn't really offended. "I'll try not to take it personally."
"Take it personal." Justin shrugs. "Really. Because it's not so easy on a guy's ego when he's supposedly the most irresistible guy in America, and his best friend doesn't seem to notice that."
Still not quite getting it, JC asks, "So, the thing with the girls. It was... because of me?"
"You may not be able to see what's right in front of your eyes, but you can never resist a good mystery. You're so predictable. I knew it would drive you nuts until you figured it out. Of course, I didn't expect you to take so damn long, especially not after I practically threw myself at you. But you were definitely worth the wait." Leaning forward, Justin captures JC's lips with his own, nipping playfully at his bottom lip.
"You're sure?" JC's voice is a little dry, though he kisses Justin back. "Because so far I think you've said I'm not too bright, oblivious, and nosy."
"And beautiful," Justin reminds him, kissing him again.
"And beautiful. So. Um. Is this it?"
"It?"
JC blushes a little, not quite meeting Justin's eyes. "I mean, well, it was a game, right? And now the game is over. You got what you wanted. So... is that it?"
"Jace, are you asking me if now that I've had my way with you whether or not I want you anymore?" JC thinks that's disbelief in Justin's voice, but he's not sure, and he's afraid to look.
"Well. Yeah."
Justin's hands tangle in his hair, tilting his head back and kissing him thoroughly. When he raises his head they're both breathless, Justin holding him tightly so that he has no choice but to look right into Justin's eyes. What he sees there is so much deeper than just lust, and he knows he has his answer.
"I think maybe I'll keep you around until I get tired of you," Justin jokes. "You know... forever. You okay with that?"
And JC knows that his answer is in his eyes, too.
Yeah. He's very okay with that.
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