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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