Ten
Shoot part Five
by Pet
Mprov, 4/28 Words: Trampy, juicer, frog
It wasn't like he didn't know they'd be there. *Everyone*
was there, getting filmed coming in and out of hotels, signing
autographs,
speaking in handy little soundbites for MTV and whoever else was
sponsoring
this damn event. Nick couldn't even remember. But anyone who was
anyone
was there. He shouldn't have been so surprised.
"Whoa." AJ's voice was low and almost
amused. "That's...hey. I don't wanna say anything bad, but that's
kinda..."
"Trampy," Nick said blankly, staring at the television.
"Wow."
"I didn't want to say," AJ explained, snickering a
little. "Does his mom know he owns that, I wonder?"
Justin was smiling for the camera, miles of white teeth
and
curls and dimples, but Nick wasn't really looking at his face much.
Not
when he was wearing...mesh. Definitely mesh. And definitely
leather. Tight enough to be illegal in many states. It clung when he
moved, and Nick could see the curve of a muscle, the hint of a nipple,
and...he remembered to close his mouth.
"That's a pretty fucking hot shirt." AJ's voice
intruded,
and Nick frowned at him. "Dude, it is! Wonder where he got it. Don't
get
all pissy with me, just because your...whatever, is half naked on
national
television."
"He's here," Nick grinned. "That's that thing where we
did
the press conference yesterday. I thought they weren't coming in till
tomorrow. Oh, man, AJ, you gotta..."
"I gotta nothing." AJ's voice was beyond firm.
"Remember
last time? You still owe me, let's see. Your firstborn, should you
ever
have one. A new car. An island in the Pacific. Is any of this
ringing
bells, Nicky?"
"You had fun." Nick fidgeted restlessly on the couch.
Damn
hotel furniture, all too small and uncomfortable. "You know you
did. Don't think I don't-"
"Don't think. Period. Whatever you want, the answer is
no." AJ grabbed the remote before he could react, and changed the
channel
decisively. "Just pretend he's not here."
"AJ!" Nick made a try, but AJ was having none of it, and
his
scowl sent Nick back into the corner of the couch. "Come on, it's been
six
months, almost. Please? Please please please?" He wished fiercely
for
Justin, who did begging-sad-puppy-eyes so much better than he ever
could. "Please?"
"No. No, no, no, and absolutely fucking out of the
question." AJ settled on an infomercial. A very scary man was selling
juicers. Nick cringed.
"Come on, at least let me watch him. Come
on. AJ. You're being a prick. AJ. It's just television, I won't bug
you any more about-"
"Fine." Back to MTV, and Nick settled in happily.
Justin really did look kind of, almost, slutty. Definitely slutty. Even hooker-esque.
"You let him wear that shit in public?" AJ was smirking
at
him now. "Damn. You're a shitload more understanding than I would
be. All that body on display and all. Think he knows you're
watching?"
"I dunno." Nick frowned a little, watching Chris wrap an
arm around Justin, Joey rub his head fondly. The crowd was sure eating it up. There was a chick, wearing green...could she possibly drool any
more? Tacky. Very tacky. Nick didn't like her one bit.
"You should really say something." AJ was sounding
reasonable, which was a warning sign a mile wide. "I mean. He looks
like a rentboy, Nick."
"He does, a little." Nick rubbed his palms over his
thighs, thinking hard. Damn Justin anyway. He hadn't called in days, he was prancing around on tv in mesh. Not that Nick didn't understand; he did. But still, a call would have been nice. A 'hey, I'm in town
early, can you sneak away from Kevin?' Even just a hello. No, Justin just wasn't behaving well. Nick would have to do something about this.
"Total rentboy. Ten buck fuck." AJ's snicker was just
mean, Nick thought. Justin was way more than ten bucks, anyway. He was pretty sure. "God. Someone oughtta call the cops."
Flash of lightning, enlightenment, eureka. Nick loved
the moments when ideas came to him all perfect and fully-formed. He swung around so suddenly that AJ leaned back, startled. "Oh, dude,
yeah. Someone should. Are they staying here?"
"How the hell should I know? Like I keep track of them?
Go check the internet, fucknut."
"I know you talk to Joey. Come on, AJ. Tell tell
tell." Nick was practically quivering with glee. This would be the
best
prank ever in the history of pranks. It was perfect. It was flawless. It was probably illegal, but he didn't care.
"I do NOT talk to Joey." AJ actually took off his
sunglasses to glare at Nick. "Why the fuck would I want to-"
"You do, just admit it. Are they here or not?"
AJ stared at him for another moment, then sighed. "Yeah. They've got the fifteenth floor. Why? Gonna toilet paper his room or something? I know that look, Nick."
"No. No toilet paper." Nick wondered if you could die
of smug. If so, he hoped his mom remembered that Aaron was supposed to
get his CD collection. "Okay, okay. They did the press conference,
they're gone, they must be on their way back here, right? I mean, it's late and stuff. Call Joey. Find out for me."
"Tell me what to do again, and I'll lock you in with Brian
for the rest of the weekend."
"Sorry, sorry. Sorry, AJ, man, please? It's so
important. I swear it'll be good, it's for a good cause. The best
cause ever." He clasped his hands and begged hard. "PLEASE, AJ."
AJ eyed him suspiciously, even as he slowly reached for
the phone. "Fine. Add a boat to the list. A nice boat, with a kitchen and a working shower and a bar. Dude, you should just start signing over your
checks now."
"Whatever." Nick watched him dial from memory, and
carefully did not laugh. Now was not the time, oh no.
"Yo." AJ was so rude on the phone. Nick didn't
understand
why more people didn't hang up on him. "No, Fatone, it's your fairy
fucking godmother, I'm calling your cellphone to let you know the glass
slippers are on back order. Of *course* it's me."
There was a long pause, and then AJ started laughing
hard. "Oh man. Fuck. Yeah. Dude, by the way, what's the deal with
Timberlake? He's looking mighty...sluttish, today." He ignored Nick's
frantic headshaking. "Yeah, on MTV. Very nice, how you could see
nipple
and all. I'm sure the viewing public appreciated it. Oh, whatever.
Like
my nipples are any big mystery any more...aw, shit, I did not just say
that."
Even Nick in all his impatience had to giggle a little at
that. "NO!" AJ sounded mortified, a rare and noteworthy event.
"Fuck, no, don't you dare. All right, all right, go be famous. Listen, when are y'all heading back here? Yeah. Oh yeah. Haven't been carded once. Cool. All right, see you then. Whatever. You're a fucker. Bye."
Nick bounced impatiently on the couch. "Well? When? It's way
important, AJ. The timing's gotta be just right."
"Nice. I'm getting insulted all to hell over here on
your behalf, and all you can think about is me, me, me." AJ sniffed a
little, folding up his phone. "They'll be here in a half hour. Now, what the fuck?"
"I need a phone book. And a phone. Oh, man, AJ, you are
gonna *love* this."
***
The officer on the phone had been very sympathetic,
especially when Nick used his best quivering traumatized voice and
refused to give his name. She'd practically cooed at him, and he wondered if maybe shaking with giggles wasn't making him sound a little more upset than he'd meant to. Still, though, it added a touch of authenticity. AJ had stared at him, struck silent, mouth open, and now was pacing the room, shaking his head. Nick was just trying to figure out who to call.
"Who, do you think?" Watching AJ pace was entertaining,
at least. Mostly because he couldn't seem to pick a direction. "Chris? I don't think I've talked to him ever. You can't call Joey, that would be too obvious. I can't call Justin, because...yeah. JC? Do you think?"
"You could just dress all in black and hang yourself off
the ceiling in their room, spy boy." AJ shook his head some more. "Jesus, Nick. Can't you just wait to find out after?"
"No, no, I gotta hear." Nick chewed a nail, then pulled
his finger from his mouth guiltily. He'd be seeing his mom next week, and unsightly nails were high on her no-list. "JC, I think. I can ask him about...music."
"Oh, good. Yeah. You do that." AJ threw himself to the
bed. "This had better happen soon, I'm s'posed to be in the bar by
eleven."
"He looked good, huh?" Nick needed confirmation. "Like,
sexy. And good?"
"He looked like sex on toast." AJ grinned at him.
"Horny little bastard."
"Whatever." Nick felt himself flush, and checked his
watch. Almost showtime, if they were on time. He really hoped they
were on time. "Okay. Here we go." He dialed JC's number carefully.
"Hello?" JC's voice sounded strange and tinny, and Nick
panicked for a moment.
"Oh, hi, JC. It's Nick. Nick Carter?"
"Um. Nick. Hi." JC sounded genuinely baffled. "What's,
hey. What's going on?"
"I was just. Hey! I guess you guys are in town, right?" Nick searched his mind frantically. "And I was wondering, I
was writing this song, see, and I can't quite get the chorus right. And I was wondering. Do you have a juicer?" He banged his head on the arm of the couch. Oh god.
"A juicer?" JC's confusion went up a notch. "A song?
About a juicer? What?"
"No, no, the song's not about the juicer. It's a
separate thing. Song, juicer, totally different." Nick was babbling, he knew, but he had to get the subject changed before JC started asking him about this mythical and completely nonexistant song. Way to plan ahead, Carter.
"Ohhhhhkay." JC was clearly being patient with him.
"No, I do not have a juicer. What's this about a song?" Nick could hear voices in the background, someone saying "juicer?", someone else laughing, glasses clinking. He hoped Justin was there.
"The song's not important, really." He was back on
track,
and on a roll. "But there's this infomercial on right now, and this
juicer
is really incredible, man. You're into health food and stuff, right?" He looked pleadingly at AJ, who had his sleeve stuffed in his mouth and
eyes just snapping with suppressed laughter.
"I'm sure it's wonderful. Nick, I'm kind of in the
middle of
something here, did you want something?"
"Well, yes." Nick looked around desperately for
ideas. Where *were* they? If law enforcement was always this slow,
Nick hoped he never had to call them for real. "Um, when I'm dancing my socks always fall down. Can you recommend a good brand? Good elastic and everything? It's really uncomfortable, dancing like that. You always look like your feet are comfortable."
AJ gave up and buried his face in the bedspread,
shoulders
shaking. Nick frowned at him. He was no help.
"Nick." JC sounded like he'd hit the end of his
patience. Nick couldn't really blame him. "Seriously, what on earth? If you have something-hang on." Nick heard the doorbell, and sighed in relief. Fucking finally! He heard the commotion of people
moving. Wondered if it was possible to strain an eardrum, and kicked
AJ into suddenly attentive silence.
"Hello?" Faintly. He was listening in, and just prayed
that JC would forget he had an open phone. "Is there a problem, officer?
"Mumble mumble solicitation. May we please come in?"
Nick bit his thumb, feeling the giggles climb his throat. AJ was staring holes in him, but he just waved him off.
"I beg your pardon?" Wow, JC didn't mumble at all. "You
had a report of *what*?"
Chris's high tones chimed in. "I think they're looking
for hookers, JC. You know. Prostitutes. People who are paid to have-" He was cut off.
"Mumble match the description mumble check mumble
report." Nick really wished the officer would articulate a little.
"Please come in." JC sounded like he was struggling for
his manners. "There aren't any prostitutes here, though. You must have had-" He cut off too, and Nick almost climbed out of his skin with anticipation.
"Young man, can you step outside?" Thank GOD, Nick
thought, finally giving up and laughing. Oh to see Justin's face. God, he'd give a kidney. "Please, sir. It'll just be a moment."
JC's outraged "WHAT?" almost obscured Justin's squawk and
someone, maybe two someones, laughing really, really hard. Nick was
desperate to hear, the phone pressed so tightly to his ear it hurt.
"Do you know who I AM?" That was clear enough, and Nick
leaned his forehead on his knees, helpless. Oh god, this was better
than he'd even imagined.
"That's not a prostitute, sir, that's Justin
Timberlake." That just had to be Lance, a voice that low and calm. Nick gave up and dropped the phone, folding sideways onto
the couch and laughing so hard his throat hurt. He waved his hands in the air weakly, warding off AJ, who gave up and picked up the phone himself, listening intently and then starting to chuckle.
"*Nick!*" Even laughing, even away from the phone, Nick
could hear that. He popped back up, and looked at AJ, who was holding the phone away from his ear and wincing.
"Here. I think he wants to talk to you."
"I don't think I want to talk to him. Which him is it?"
"JC. I think. It's all a little confused." AJ laughed
again. "Fuck, Nick! You're the...you're the king, man. I take it
back, I don't want the boat. DAMN!"
Nick just stared at the phone, then shook his head. "No,
no. Just hang up. I think they figured out it was me."
"You think?" AJ snorted, but snapped the phone closed
without further argument. "All right, kid, I'm outta here. Have
fun. Don't let them kill you. If Kevin's looking for me I'm at the
gym, if you really need me call my cell." He smacked Nick's shoulder, still grinning. "Dude. Fucking score. I will be gettin' ALL the free
drinks tonight, you freakin' genius."
Nick laughed again, just picturing it in his mind. The
cops. Justin. JC. He just hoped someone nice had been there with a
videocamera.
***
When the knock came, it wasn't subtle. More of an angry
pounding, actually, and Nick was startled off the couch. Aw, shit.
He'd
been counting on the keepaway policy to keep him safe for at least
tonight.
"Carter! Open this door, goddamnit!" Definitely Justin,
and definitely unpleased. Nick ran his hands over his hair, straightened
his shirt, wished he'd remembered to wash his face. He didn't even get the door open all the way before Justin was inside, in the flesh, right
*there*. Vibrating and angry and *there.* Nick forgot to breathe for
a precious second.
"What the hell was *that*?" Justin didn't get loud when
he was mad, he did more of a hissing, coiled, sexy thing. And he was
still wearing the shirt. Nick wanted to touch it. "I mean, funny, ha ha, but I almost got ARRESTED!"
"No, no." Nick shook his head absently, staring at the
clean line of Justin's collarbone. "I mean, they wouldn't have actually arrested you. You're *you*."
Justin's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Somehow, I'm not
really getting that 'I'm so sorry' vibe from you. I was kind of counting on that. Nick, Jesus! You told them I was a hooker! Named Justin! We had to call the bodyguards!"
"Hi, Justin." Nick looked right at him, and
smiled. "Haven't seen you in a while. How you been? Missed you."
"Oh, you fucker," Justin breathed, but his hands loosened
and his mouth quirked just a little and he rubbed at his
face. "Goddammit. I'm really mad, you know. Like, super pissed off. You realize that, right?"
"Sure." Nick reached out and touched Justin's sleeve.
Yep, it was mesh. He could feel warm skin right through it. "But, you
know. From here, it was funny as shit. 'Do you know who I AM?'" He
snickered.
Justin smacked his hand away, but not very hard, and
stepped closer. "You're not winning back any points here, you realize." It was more of a grumble than a growl, though, and Nick judged the storm past. "Okay, it was a little funny. Not then, though. JC almost had a heart attack."
"I heard." Nick grinned at him. "I bet the whole hotel
heard. Um. You do realize that we're in here by ourselves, right?
Like, I could try to make it up to you. If you wanted." No drugs, no
bickering AJ and Joey, just them, and Nick suddenly had huge butterflies. Maybe Justin had changed his mind. Maybe Justin didn't-
"Okay," Justin agreed brightly, smiling at him for the
first time. "It's gonna take a lot, though. I mean, that was some major embarrassment."
Nick shrugged, taking that last step that put Justin
comfortably within reach. "That's some shirt. And pants. Gave me the
idea. Well, AJ gave me the idea, but the shirt was really to blame."
"I like this shirt." Justin cocked a hip and kept
smiling, looking like ice cream and candied apples and everything inviting and delicious. Oh yeah. WAY more than ten bucks. He'd have to tell AJ.
"I like it too," he agreed, leaning a little, feeling
horribly unsure. Six months was a long time. He'd forgotten how to do
this. It didn't matter, though, when Justin moved closer and wrapped
long
arms around his neck and tilted his face just so. Nick sighed, and
kissed
him, and it was just that simple.
"Mmmmm." Justin made a happy little noise and licked his
tongue, and Nick was very glad that there was someone to lean on. He
hadn't forgotten Justin's little nipping kisses, the way he moved his
head
for better angles, the sharp warm taste of him, but this was so much
better
than memory and his knees were weak.
He put careful hands on Justin's waist, feeling the
muscles
shift under his palms as Justin moved, and had to pull back to breathe,
panting a little and staring. Justin's eyes had gone indigo, and his
mouth
was red and wet. Nick stared. "God, Justin." The dimples reappeared.
"Just Justin will be fine, acutally." He pushed a little
at
Nick's shoulders, moving them carefully back into the room. "I
forgot," he
confided, walking Nick backwards, close enough that Nick could feel the
words on his skin. "I mean, not really. But I wanna." He grinned,
and
darted in to grab Nick's lower lip lightly between his teeth, running
his
tongue over and over it.
Nick stumbled back a step and almost got bitten, laughing
at
Justin's wide, concerned eyes. "I'm fine, I'm fine. Do that some
more, yeah."
"They think I'm really really mad," Justin confided, low
and
intimate as he kissed Nick's mouth, then bent a little to lick his
neck. "I maybe threw a lamp. They think I'm here yelling at you.
Except
Joey, but he was leaving anyway."
"How long does it take to yell?" The small part of
Nick's
mind that wasn't focused on Justin's mouth was proud of him for asking.
"Long time. Really long. There." Justin pushed him
down to
the couch, and crawled awkwardly after him, all too-long legs and
desperate
hands. "Yeah, like that. Oooh, Nick." Justin's earrings, Nick
thought,
tasted strange and metallic and it was only Justin's shiver that kept
him
licking there.
"If it's so long," Nick moved back to Justin's mouth,
sliding
his tongue inside, tasting and kissing and loving it, "why is your
cellphone ringing?"
"Shit." Justin pulled back, scowling, hair standing on
end from Nick's hands. Ten THOUSAND bucks, Nick thought, a little
desperately. "Hang on. It's JC."
"Of course." Nick dropped his face to Justin's shoulder,
looking down the slope of his chest, shadowed through the mesh and
showing
the curve of muscle, just the beginning of the ridges on his belly. He
slid his hand under the shirt, touching hot soft skin, and Justin
quivered
under his fingers.
"Hey JC." Justin's voice was hoarse, like he had a frog
in
his throat, and he cleared it. "Hey," he said again, more
firmly. "Yes. I told him. Oh, very angry, JC. No, I didn't hit him!
I don't hit!" He inched a little closer to Nick, eyes falling shut as
Nick stroked him lightly. "But...but I was...okay. Okay. Yes. Okay, JC." He shut the phone and sighed.
"You gotta go?" Nick was so disappointed he almost
couldn't speak.
"Yeah." Justin kissed his face quickly, then his mouth,
then
pulled back. He looked at Nick, and Nick looked back, and then he had
a
lapful of Justin, sucking his tongue out of his mouth, hands roaming
over his sides, his hips, his arms. He groaned, arching up a little, skin a thousand little prickling nerves. "I gotta," Justin breathed, and kissed him one more time, and tore himself away.
Nick panted, disbelieving, peering up at Justin. "I gotta,
Nick," he repeated firmly. "But tomorrow...oh I've got plans. For
tomorrow." He smiled, walking backwards towards the door, mesh and
tangled hair and pants that left nothing to the imagination. "Big plans." He fluttered his fingertips at Nick, blew him a kiss, and was gone.
Nick groaned and collapsed flat. Big plans. Tomorrow. Tomorrow was FOREVER from now. He remembered Justin's wicked smile, the way his hips moved when he walked, his clever hands, and sighed.
Maybe, maybe ten MILLION bucks.
[end]
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