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Shoot part Two
by Pet

Justin slipped the note into Nick's palm pretty early in the post-awards madness of parties and greetings, and everything after that was a whirl of breathless waiting, a low, heavy knot of anticipation in his belly, his eyes seeking out a shining blond head over the crowd. He smiled at a thousand people that night, what Chris affectionately referred to as his Popstah Smile, but he only really saw one.

Because after, after...he would get to be with Nick. And just being with Nick was better than anything ever. He laughed a little giddily into his cup, and JC glanced over sharply at him in their booth, and grabbed and sipped his drink to make sure it was really just Coke. When it was, he relaxed, and Justin grimaced a little. He was EIGHTEEN, for God's sake, you'd think JC would give it a rest...

He was distracted by the Backstreet Boys walking past, raising casual hands in farewell, probably on their way to another industry bash. He stared at Nick, even as he waved a little. He didn't like it. The tight, harsh lines around Nick's mouth, the hard eyes, the fake laugh. The dark sexuality that Nick emitted like pheromones, that drew even unwilling eyes. All that bravado. All so very much not-Nick. And Justin's heart suddenly hurt, for the real Nick he was going to have to coax out of hiding, later. He sighed, tired of the party, tired of the booth, tired of Joey talking about Britney, tired of the fact that Chris felt totally comfortable running after Howie to say goodbye, and that he couldn't, because Kevin Might Know. Damn Kevin and Lance and their stupid public catfight. It would be better for all concerned if they just gave in and fucked each other, already. Justin giggled again at the thought.

"Funny thoughts, J?" Joey elbowed him lightly, warm and solid at his side. "Share, dude. This party is like the most boring thing EVER."

He blushed a little, hoped Joey and JC couldn't see. "Nah, you know...kinda had to be there..."

"Uh oh. Justin's thinking. Quick, call the medics!" Lance had gotten ahold of some tequila somewhere, and was flushed, his eyes sharp and glittering. "Do entertain us, Justin."

Damn Lance. Well, didn't someone say once that the best deflection was honesty?

"I was just imagining what would happen if you and Kevin buried the hatchet and fuckin' screwed, finally." He grinned wide at Lance, whose eyes had gone huge. "Might be one way to settle that dumb-ass feud."

Joey sat in startled silence for a second, then ROARED, drawing all eyes to their booth.

"Holy...SHIT...Jup! Don't do that, man! I think you broke Lance!" He was still gasping, Justin was still grinning, and Lance had gone a deep maroon and was sputtering helplessly. Justin was deeply grateful that Lance could still blush. For one thing, Chris was pinching his cheeks and crowing, JC was laughing softly, and no one was wondering what he was thinking any more.

When Justin finally dragged himself away from the endless parties and crawled back to his room, it was empty. He sighed, clicked on the light, kicked off his shoes, and flopped down on the bed. Nick was making him wait. It was one of the games he played, when he felt put-upon, or had been having a bad week, or was just cranky for some reason. It could be that he'd been forced to wear a shirt he didn't like, that day. Or that N Sync had taken two more awards than the Boys. Justin wasn't sure, but he knew he'd find out eventually. He didn't mind, so much. Not at all. Being Nick's rock was...well. Entirely worth it.

He was almost asleep, in the dim light of the bedside lamp, when the quiet knock came. He was at the door in an instant, and couldn't help smiling at the image when he opened the door. Nick looked sullen and sexy, a little pout on that red mouth, his eyes hooded. But he was there. And Justin took his hand without a word, led him to the bed, pushed him down onto his back, and crawled on top of him. Starfished on the bed, palm to palm, fingers linked, every inch of him touching every inch of Nick.

Justin had discovered a long time ago that this was the fastest way to get Nick to relax, lose the mask, ease the superstar tension out of muscles cramped tight by the day in-day out grind of the pressure and the public eye. So he breathed Nick in, staring into eyes as blue as his own, letting the heat of that big body melt him down. Watching the eyes soften slowly, feeling Nick go boneless under him.

****

Nick could almost find it in himself to hate Justin, sometimes. The way Justin always knew what to do, what to say. The way Justin would watch them on TRL, and call Nick right after, and tell him he was so amazing and wonderful and hot, when Nick was watching the playbacks and about to cry because he was so big and awkward and stupid. The way he somehow sensed this craving in Nick, the first time, and knew without saying that this was what Nick needed.

A solid body, holding him down, pressing him into the mattress. Weight that was so comforting Nick was frozen with the feeling. Press of heat and breath that made Nick aware of every inch of his body, the way he so often wasn't when he was lost in the anxiety and the frantic and the panic of his mind. He was physical, he was here, and Justin was here, Justin knew him and thought he was beautiful. Nick felt something inside stretch, give, then snap, like a guitar string held tight for too long. He breathed. Justin, warm spice of boy, hair gel in those ridiculous curls that he secretly adored, traces of smoke and perfume from the party, but mostly just Justin. His favorite smell. And those eyes, staring into his. Warm blue, smiling a little, happy to see him. Just Justin.

Palm-to-palm, and strangely intimate, and Nick felt comfortable enough to ask. The way he hadn't, the first few times.

"How do you do it?" He was whispering. Lance was next door, he'd checked. They'd have to be quiet, tonight.

"What?" Justin's breath tickled his lips, and he licked them, involuntarily, and watched Justin's pupils get big and so dark.

"Stay...the same. You're always the same. I don't know how to do that."

Justin squeezed his hands, smiled a little.

"I've got you to think about. And...I don't know. I don't, really. I mean. We've all got parts to play."

"Yeah, but..." Nick shook his head. He'd lost the words, somewhere.

"It's ok. Don't worry about it. You're here now." And Justin bent his head, and kissed him, achingly light and brief, just a brush of lips, but Nick felt his heart skip. Oh, it was starting, and he couldn't wait...

He had girls, in the long times they were apart. Sometimes he curled up with Howie to be petted, just to feel affection directed his way. And he knew Justin did the same, with girls and with Chris; it was an unspoken understanding. But here, when he was finally here, it all fell away, and it was JUSTIN...Justin with his big capable hands, that were stroking up Nick's arms now. His plush mouth, his stubborn chin, his long muscle and bone and strength, that sleek golden skin, curls that tangled around Nick's fingers, and those long curling eyelashes that fluttered just...so....

Nick thought maybe it wouldn't be good for Justin's ego to know how often he thought about these things, alone in his bunk with a hand down his boxers.

But he had better things to think about, right now. Like the fact that Justin was DEFINITELY happy to see him, had been since he'd walked into the room. And was stroking him with a little more intent, now, though he wouldn't move his body till Nick indicated it was ok. Justin's fingertips were rough with callouses, something Nick always found strangely erotic. Rasping lightly over the skin on the inside of his elbows, where Justin loved to lick, and would, later...Nick shivered, and lifted his head for another kiss. Let his tongue slide out between his lips, just a bit, and felt Justin smile against his mouth at the invitation. And then Nick had his tongue drawn into wet, sucking heat, just his tongue, their lips barely touching, Justin sucking and licking and nibbling at his tongue, not touching him anywhere else, and Nick could taste sweetmusklust, and every tiny move sent shocks of arousal straight down his spine. Oh. Yes.

Nick was achingly hard, and very close to the edge, and Justin was just lying on him, sucking his tongue. Vaguely, he wondered if he'd last two seconds if his pants were actually off. He could feel the quilting in the comforter under his back where his shirt had ridden up...he tried to focus on the light scratchiness, the bumps, and not the easy way Justin's hips were riding his, just a little, a tiny little rocking motion that made his breath catch. That Justin's hands had slid into his hair, and were holding his head, palms flat against his skull, anchoring him. And that suction on his tongue...he opened his mouth on a gasp, and Justin finally, finally, licked into his mouth, traced his teeth, and Nick let his eyes open, and Justin was looking at him, still easy and almost smiling.

Nick smiled back. He couldn't help it. Justin was light and sweetness, uncomplicated, and he wanted to share. He let his own hands come up off the bedspread, slide up the broad planes of Justin's back, then down, to cup that sweet ass and bring him closer. Justin let some air out on a little "huh" at the close contact, and relaxed into it, letting Nick pull him into a quicker rythm, and Nick suddenly felt overdressed. Justin was too. One quick pull, and Justin's t-shirt was gone, and he had, oh, acres of skin to play with now. Hot, because Justin always ran a little warm. Sliding over muscles that Nick sometimes hated, when they were on display in a magazine, but now, couldn't get enough of. He wished he could see what they looked like, together like this.

Mmm, his shirt off too, and he used to feel selfconscious, since he wasn't nearly as buff as Justin. But now, no, because Justin had spent an entire afternoon once, touching every body part with one finger (and one finger only), telling Nick what he loved about each one. God, Justin. Slick sliding skin on skin, and Justin was making that little keening sound in the back of his throat, and Nick could taste it in his mouth. Thank god for Justin's current horrendous fashion stylings...Nick could slide his hands easily down the back of Justin's pants, and did, and promptly got a little squeal that he fully planned on using as torture and blackmail material tomorrow. He grinned into the kiss. Justin broke away, looked down at him, rumpled and flustered and flushed and smiling that wide white smile. Jacked his hips down, and watched as Nick bit his lip.

"Can we..." Nick had lost coherency, oh, a long time back, but his hands were still working, and he yanked at Justin's jeans in illustration.

"Oh, yeah..." Justin breathed, and was out of his pants almost faster than Nick could see, and was kneeling between Nick's thighs, working at his belt. "Missed you." He was apparently taking this rare mouth-free moment to catch up on the talking. That was fine with Nick, as long as he didn't stop with the belt. "I saw you on Rosie. You looked SO good, Nick, I almost died. I had to go jack off in the shower. And we never talk on the phone anymore. I miss that." He bent closer, looking at the belt. "What the fuck, dude, is this superglued or something?"

Nick snickered. "No." He lifted up, so Justin could get some give in the belt. "I can't call you so much, you know that, Just. Like, last time, Kevin almost caught me."

"Fuck Kevin." Justin looked momentarily fierce, thick level brows drawn down, though Nick couldn't tell if it was at Kevin or at the belt. "It's not his business. It's not anyone's business. I want to TALK to you."

"Yeah." He sighed as his pants finally came open and off, and Justin crowed in triumph, looking like nothing more than a debauched cherub, naked between Nick's legs. "You should call me...uh...anyway. Makes me feel...Oh, Justin...better..."

Justin had decided that talking time was over, and was stroking the inside of Nick's long legs, fingers moving up higher with every pass. Teasing. They were naked, Nick figured, so on with the show! But Justin had apparently concluded that this was time to play. He trailed one finger over Nick's cock, still sitting on his heels, watching Nick watch him.

"Justin...come ON..." He pushed his hips up, seeking further contact.

Justin laughed low, but rewarded Nick's forwardness with a full-hand grip. Hot silver feeling spiked through his spine, and he couldn't help it, Lance could just get over it if he was listening, the moan just vibrated out his mouth. Justin smiled like a cat with the cream. Sucked one finger, slid it down below after a quick stroke to Nick's balls, teased his ass. Nick felt his knees fall open, helplessly wider. He wanted more, and Justin obliged him, sliding that long finger deeper, crooking it a little, and Nick saw stars. He could feel his head pressed back hard into the pillow, and knew his teeth were clenched on a howl. Justin...DID this to him, and he couldn't imagine a better feeling. Two fingers, and he was proved wrong. Wronger, even, when Justin let go of his cock (no!) and slid up his body to kiss him again, and he was. right. there. and bracing himself on his hands, staring down at Nick with hot eyes, and pushing forward, and in, and Nick hooked one leg around his back and welcomed him.

He could read the tension in the fine lines and planes of Justin's face, and his cheeks were red with the strain of not just FUCKING into him, and Nick was grateful, since it had been a long time, this time. Slow slide out, and twist of liquid hips on the thrust back in, and Nick could feel the bunch and slide of muscles under his hands on Justin's hips. Oh...he was hitting the sweet spot, over and over, and kissing Nick, and Nick could feel a sweat-slick stomach moving against his cock, and his whole BODY was on fire, and his fingers were digging deep into babysoft skin, and Justin had just given up on subtlety, because it had been TOO long, this time. And that need...yeah. Nick needed Justin like he needed air, but Justin needed Nick too, and this was when Nick could see it. When Justin just let go, and closed his eyes, and gave in to it all. The heat and the moving and the fuck, and he was speeding up, and painpleasurepain was making Nick's brain go blessedly blank, and he could feel tension in his thighs, moving up his back, slamming his head back again into the bed, and he shouted, and came so hard he went blind.

"Shhh, shhh," Justin was chanting as he kept on, and bent low over Nick and kissed him silent again, hips still moving, till he went rigid and Nick felt hot-wet flood him. Pulse, pulse, pulse. Oh, Jesus, Justin. He pulled him down into his arms, felt Justin bury his nose in his neck and just breathe, limp and gasping against him. They were stuck together, sweat and come making them sticky, but Nick didn't mind. They could shower, later. And talk, and Nick would tell him about the latest video and his problems with wardrobe, and Justin would bitch about JC and his mothering, and they'd be like a real couple. But that would be later. Much later. When he'd had his fill of Justin against him, warm and pliant and holding his hand, murmuring sweet, dirty words into the hot skin of his throat.

So, never.

[end]

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