Show Me the Way to the Ocean (Here From There Get Remix)

by >>Jae

The quarter flipped over and over, sparkling silver in the sunlight. Chris caught it easily and tossed it again. "Call it," Chris said.

Justin pulled the sheet up to his waist and rolled over onto his stomach. "What do I get if I win?"

"What do you want?"

"This seems pretty good to me," Justin said. "You here, and me here, and both of us finally talking to each other, and, you know, other things, and I just — I'm pretty happy. This is what I want."

"So call it," Chris said.

"Heads," Justin said, and Chris flipped the coin again and said,

"Tails — you lose." He flipped it again. "Tails," he said, and "tails," and "tails," and Justin reached out and grabbed the quarter out of the air.

He slapped it onto his arm and covered it with his hand. He peeked through his fingers and said, "Damn it — is this a trick coin?"

"Tails again?" Chris said, and when Justin nodded he leaned over and peeled Justin's fingers back. "Huh," he said.

"What, did you think I was lying?" Justin said. He closed his fist around the quarter. "So what do you win?"

"I dunno," Chris said. Justin let him pry his fingers open and take the quarter. Chris spun it on the edge of the bed and they both listened to it clatter onto the floor. "What you said sounded pretty okay. I want what you want."

"Well, that's new," Justin said, and if he could have plucked the words out of the air and shoved them back in his mouth he would have.

"Yeah?" Chris said. "No, it's not. I always wanted you to have what you want."

"Right," Justin said. "You want me to have what I want, you just hate that I want it."

"J," Chris said, and Justin flopped onto his back and threw an arm over his eyes. "I don't." Justin moved his arm up an inch and looked at him. Chris looked back. For a moment they were quiet. A thousand words crowded into Justin's mind to fill the silence, but he pushed his way through them and waited patiently.

"I don't anymore," Chris said finally.

Justin said, "Okay."

Chris put his hand on Justin's hip and Justin rolled onto his side, just to feel the easy glide of his skin under Chris' palm. "J," Chris said.

"I called you," Justin said softly into Chris' shoulder. "You should be happy."

"I don't want you to call to try and make me happy."

"I didn't," Justin said. "I called because I wanted to."

"Good," Chris said. "That's good."

"It is," Justin said. "Because I called and you came."

"It just seems like he's always mad at me," Justin said.

"Oh my God," Trace said. "I do not get paid enough to have this conversation again."

"It just seems like he's always mad at me," Justin said.

"Hold on a minute," Joey said. "Bri wants to say hi."

"It just seems like he's always mad at me," Justin said.

"This is number four on the list of things you're forbidden to talk to me about," Lance said. "It comes right after the time in Cleveland, you know, the time we don't talk about, when you called me Britney right in the middle of the thing we did that we don't talk about."

"It just seems like he's always mad at me," Justin said.

"No shit," JC said.

"It's just that it doesn't really make me want to talk to him, when he's just gonna be pissed every time I try. I mean, if he's going to act like he doesn't want me around, then maybe I just won't be."

"The thing is, J, you're not always that easy to be around."

"I am very easy to be around," Justin said hotly. "I am — I am delightful. Ask anybody."

"How about Chris? Should I ask him?" Justin didn't say anything and JC's voice softened, the way it did when he was going to say something Justin was going to lie awake thinking about at three in the morning. "It's not that you mean to be, J. But sometimes, just for a little while, people don't want to have to be happy."

"I don't understand why anyone wouldn't want to be happy."

"That's not what I said."

"I don't understand."

"I know," JC said. "Believe me." Justin didn't say anything again and JC sighed loudly. "Look, it's your dime, J. You're not spending your money just to have me lie to you long distance."

"I'm on the cell," Justin said. "I have unlimited long distance."

"Oh, well then I can lie to you all night," JC said. "Chris totally isn't pissed at you and your brilliant plan to make him stop being pissed at you by pretending you don't even notice is definitely going to work. Oh, and by the way, I loved that last single."

"I hate you," Justin said.

"You love me," JC said without missing a beat. "And you know why?"

"I'm kind of having a hard time remembering right now."

"Because I'm one of a very small group of people who don't do what you want just because you want it."

"I have to go," Justin said.

"Oh, sure," JC said. "Things to do, places to go, people not to call."

"Shut up," Justin said. "I'm hanging up."

"You love me," JC said again, and Justin couldn't help smiling because he knew what that meant.

"It just seems like you're always mad at me," Justin yelled at the phone. He couldn't seem to make it work, though. Every time he tried to dial it his hand hit the wrong button. "Stupid hand," he said. "Stupid phone."

"Oh my God," Trace said, as he took the phone and the bottle out of Justin's hands. "I do not get paid enough for this."

Even through the locked door Justin could hear the music. He couldn't make out the song but he could feel the bass, beating through his knees pressed against the concrete floor, rolling loose and fierce through his hips, and best of all, oh best of all surging through the hot dirty push of Chris' cock into his mouth. Neither of them could resist a beat, he thought, and he would've laughed but his mouth was full and that thought made him want to laugh even more and then Chris' hand slid hard over Justin's head and grabbed the back of his neck and Justin didn't want to laugh, he didn't want to do anything but just what he was doing maybe forever.

"Fuck," Chris said roughly, and his hand slammed against Justin's forehead and Justin landed sprawled on his elbows. He stayed there a minute, looking up at Chris braced against the filthy sink looking down at him. Justin wished Chris were still wearing the stupid mirrored sunglasses that Justin had made him take off earlier, because he wanted to know what he looked like. Then Chris rubbed a hand over his mouth and shook his head a little, his eyes still on Justin, and suddenly Justin knew exactly what he looked like. He put his hand on his own cock and Chris laughed, slow and sharp.

"This is the best road trip ever," Justin said.

"What do you think you're doing?" Chris said.

"I'ma show you," Justin said as he opened his pants.

"No," Chris said, and Justin smacked his hand against the floor because he knew what was coming, he knew it, and it wasn't fair. He'd tried so hard, he'd carved a week he didn't have out of his schedule and he'd talked Chris into coming and he'd found the coolest bars, places he knew Chris would love, and he'd done everything he could think of to make sure Chris had a great time and none of it mattered because Chris was going to ruin it, Justin knew he was. It was like Chris wanted to.

"No," Chris said again. "What do you think you're doing with this whole big trip? You think this is gonna hold me over? What is it, six months of sitting around while you're out conquering the world buys me a week of fucking Justin Timberlake in the world's finest dive bars? I can't to see what I get after you've been on the road for a year."

"Fuck you," Justin said. "I just wanted to make you happy."

"Yeah," Chris said. When he laughed again Justin looked away. More and more he was feeling like he wasn't in on the joke. "I know."

"Ow — fuck," Justin said, opening the door as quietly as he could. He caught one of his crutches just before it hit the floor and eased the door shut behind him.

"Fuck fuck fuck," he whispered as he hopped over to the couch. He propped his leg up on the coffee table and carefully untied his shoe. His foot was swollen and bruised-looking, with a few dark red welts where the leather had bitten in. Justin poked it with his finger and hissed in pain. "Ow," he whispered again.

"You're a disaster, Timberlake," Chris said, and Justin tipped his head back against the couch.

"Sorry, man," he said. "I was trying not to wake you up."

"You know, telling you I told you so is one of the great pleasures of my life, but I would've given it up just this once."

"I know," Justin said. "Where're you going?" Chris didn't answer, and Justin shrugged and tilted his head back up. He was still a little too drunk to be looking at things upside down. He closed his eyes. He was still a little too drunk to be looking at things right side up, too.

Cold prickled along Justin's ankle and he jumped. "I hope it was worth it, anyway," Chris said. Justin winced and then relaxed as Chris ran a bottle of beer against his foot gently.

"It was," Justin said. "It was a good party. You should've come, man. Pharrell introduced me to this guy, he did that remix of the Jay-Z song, you remember …" Chris didn't say anything as Justin told him about the night, just drummed his fingers lightly on the bottle he was holding against Justin's ankle. "Hey," Justin said, "did you bring another beer out? Cause I could use a drink."

"The last thing you need is another drink," Chris said. "But fine, you know, whatever you want," and he handed Justin the bottle.

Justin laughed and shoved the beer back at Chris. "You don't think I'm gonna drink that, do you?"

"No, I think you're going to look at it."

"You put it on my foot."

"It's in a bottle, you freak of nature."

"On my bare foot."

Chris sighed, big and open-mouthed and fake, and then opened the bottle and took a long swig. Then he leaned over to peer at Justin's ankle.

"That looks like shit," Chris said. "I hope you're happy."

Justin smiled and looked at Chris. "I am," he said.

"I know," Chris said. He didn't smile back.

"Chris —" Justin said, but before he could finish Chris held the bottle of beer against Justin's cheek and laughed as Justin yelled and pushed it away.

Sweat poured down Justin's face as he pumped his legs, turning on one last burst of speed. He could hear Chris panting almost in his ear, and he swerved off the track and threw himself down on the grass in frustration. Chris was in better shape than he wanted to admit to anyone, but it wasn't like he went out running with Justin regularly. Justin knew when he was being chased.

He pushed himself to his feet and started walking in slow circles. Chris stayed on the ground where he'd crashed, looking up at him. "You better cool down," Justin said.

"I'm as cool as they come, baby," Chris said.

Justin bent over with his hands on his knees, his breath raw in his throat.

"You should do it," Chris said.

Justin ignored him.

"You're an idiot if you don't, and you're not an idiot."

"I don't want to talk about it," Justin said.

"I do," Chris said. "I want to talk about it, and you want to do it. I know you do, you do and it's stupid to pretend you don't, you want to do it and you're going to do it and you're not fooling anyone with this Hamlet act, should I shouldn't I, when you know what you want and what you want is to do it —"

"I know," Justin snapped, and Chris smiled, fast and wide like he'd just gotten something he wanted. "I do," Justin said again, "I want to, and I'm going to, but I just —"


"I don't want to fuck everything up."

Chris rolled his eyes and blew out his breath loudly. "I didn't want to have to be the one to break it to you, but I think it's time. The world doesn't actually revolve around you. I know we told you it did, but it's like little kids and Santa. It's so sweet when they believe, you don't want to disillusion them. But there comes a time in every boy's life when he has to face up to the hard truth."

"There's no Santa?" Justin said. "Then who was that man in my bedroom last Christmas Eve offering me candy?" Chris laughed, and Justin said, low, "I don't want to fuck us up."

Chris' laugh faltered into a smile, slower and smaller than before. He put one hand up in front of him, fingers outspread, but it didn't look like he was asking for peace. It looked like he was warding off a gift from a child, something offered as precious but that looked to an adult like a big sticky mess. "J, that's not a good reason not to do something you want to do."

"Fuck you," Justin said. "Don't tell me —"

"Don't tell you what?" Chris said. Justin didn't say anything. "Don't tell you what?"

"Nothing," Justin said. "Just — it's not stupid, to be, to be worried that I'll — I'm not being stupid."

"No," Chris said. "No, you've never been stupid." He sat up and groaned. "Give me a hand," he said, and Justin grabbed his hand and pulled him up.

"Nothing'll get fucked up," Chris said. "I won't let it."

"You can't promise that," Justin said. There was something in Chris' voice that pissed him off, but still he waited for Chris to prove him wrong.

"No," Chris said slowly. Chris let go of his hand and Justin flexed his empty fingers. "But I promise you this. When we get fucked up, it'll be a group effort."

"You smell like oranges," Justin said. "Oranges and sweat."

"The girly sunscreen was not my idea," Chris said. "Neither was the beach in July. I believe both bad ideas were your ideas. Funny coincidence, that."

Justin stretched out and tilted his hat down over his eyes. "This was a fabulous idea. I think I'm going to stay right here forever. Just lie right here just doing nothing but soaking up the sun for the rest of my life."

"Sure you will," Chris said.

"Maybe I'll go swimming every once in a while, just for a change. And I guess I'll have to eat every once in a while. But other than that, I'm right here."

"Right," Chris said. "I give you three hours before you're on the phone again."

"Three hours?" Justin said. "I'll take that bet. Wait — what are we betting?"

Chris leaned down and whispered in his ear. Justin felt himself flush and shiver at the same time.

"You backing out, Timberlake?" Chris said, one eyebrow raised.

"Naw," Justin said. "Cause I know I'll win."

"Of course you will," Chris said. "Hand me more of the girly sunscreen."

Justin fell asleep, which wasn't really fair, because he lost track of the time and also he only answered his phone out of force of habit when it woke him up, and once he was on the phone it wasn't like he could be rude and it was only for a few minutes, anyway. He was preparing his defense in his head when suddenly Chris loomed above him, shaking salt water over him, and Justin shivered and flushed and forgot what he was going to say.

"Loser," Chris said. "I knew you wouldn't be able to do it."

"Maybe — maybe I wanted to lose," Justin said.

Chris looked at him sharply. "Did you?"

"No," Justin said. Chris smiled.

Justin never wanted to lose, but once Chris was done with him he totally didn't mind.

"You want it?" Chris said. He was jerking Justin off, just his thumb and finger, too slow to be anywhere near what Justin really wanted but too close for Justin to do anything but pant and twist against the sheets. "Yeah, you want it."

"But shouldn't — don't you think," Justin took a deep breath and forced his hips still. They were having a conversation here. "Don't you think it should be, like, someone we won't — you know — have to see again?"

"No," Chris said thoughtfully. "You don't think I'd let a stranger fuck you, do you?" and Justin lost all hope of keeping up his cool or his conversation as Chris' hand slid tighter and faster.

It was all arranged without Justin having to say a word. At least, it must have been arranged, because Chris might have known what he wanted, but no one else could, not without being told. The thought of Chris telling someone else, Justin's name on Chris' lips in someone's ear, sparked something bone deep, something sharp and simmering. He turned off the lights and waited.

Light spilled in from the opened door and Justin sat up. "Well, all right," JC said as Chris said, "Oh, no no no." The door shut and the room was dark again, then Justin blinked as the lights switched on and JC kissed him.

The scent of cigarettes and bourbon clung to JC, familiar from a thousand clubs and a thousand elevator rides, JC bouncing on his heels and humming beneath his breath while Justin stood beside him and wondered idly what it would be like to be the girl waiting upstairs for JC. He hadn't even wanted, he'd just wondered, and he tried to tell JC that and JC put one hand over his mouth and said over his shoulder, "He's a talker?"

Chris laughed.

Chris laughed and JC pushed Justin back on the bed, his palm soft against Justin's tongue, and said over Justin's shoulder, "I want to see him suck you." Chris stopped laughing. He sat on the bed and rolled Justin over, onto his hands and knees, and JC said, "Yeah, yeah, like that," and Justin realized that JC hadn't said a word to him, not since he'd come in, he talked to Chris about Justin but wasn't talking to him, and Justin hadn't even known he'd wanted that, hadn't ever even thought of it so how could he know, how could he want it but he'd been simmering for what felt like hours and now, now. Now JC said to Chris, "Look at him," said it over Justin, about him, and Justin had been simmering right out to the edge of his skin and now he caught fire.

Chris' hand slipped over Justin's head and JC's hands were moving over his body, along his spine and down over his ass. Then JC slid two fingers into Justin, just the way Justin wanted it, just like someone had told him how Justin wanted it, and Justin groaned around Chris' cock and spread his legs wider. JC said, "God, does he always take it like that?"

Chris' hand stopped moving, grabbed at Justin's hair and turned his head to the side so Chris could see his face. Chris said, "yeah," twice he said it, the first time like a question and the second like an answer, and Justin knew he was answering JC but it felt like Chris was talking to him, for him, only to him.

When JC fucked him Justin turned his head against Chris' leg. Chris' hand scuffed along the side of his face, up into his hair and then down to his jaw and back again, in rhythm with JC. "Yeah," Chris said, again and again, and Justin didn't have to say a word. A thin silver shiver of pain scraped along Justin's shoulder with JC's teeth and Chris swore under his breath. "You love me," JC said roughly, and Justin hadn't thought there could be anything hotter than JC talking over him, around him, about him but there was one thing.

"Yeah," Chris said, and JC said, "You love me," both of them together and Justin knew they were talking to him, only to him, and he knew what they meant.

The next day Chris left Justin alone, which was just what Justin wanted. He crawled into his bunk and wondered what other hidden things he wanted, and what Chris would do to give them to him.

Footsteps clattered up the steps to the bus, and Justin heard Joey say, "What the fuck is wrong with you, Kirkpatrick?"

"Oh, it's a long long list," Chris said.

"You know what I'm talking about," Joey said.

"Yes, yes, I do. And a, he knows what he wants, b, he's not a kid, c, there's no way you should be yelling at me and not Chasez, and d, it's actually none of your business."

"It is my business," Joey said, "and I absolutely have some thoughts to share with your friend JC, so send him my way when you see him, and he is a kid, and of course he knows what he wants, you dumbass, he's in love and he wants what he thinks is gonna make you happy. So maybe you want to think about that the next time you're auditioning for the Hustler Forum."

"There's always girls in Hustler threesomes. If anybody should know that, it's you," Chris said. Justin bit his lip at the sound of Chris' voice.

"Whatever," Joey said, and Chris threw the word right back at him, and then it was quiet and Justin knew they were glaring at each other, and then he heard Joey storm off the bus. He slipped out of his bunk.

"You were right," Justin said, and Chris tipped his head back and looked at him.

"Oh, fabulous," Chris muttered, then said, "You shouldn't listen in when other people are talking, because — well, I don't know why, because apparently every single thing I do is everyone else's business, so —"

"You were right," Justin said, leaning against Chris' chair.

"Shut up, J," Chris said, but he grabbed Justin's chin and pulled him down for a kiss, which was what Justin wanted anyway.

"What're you looking at?" Chris said, but he smiled and caught the orange Justin tossed at him, caught it and threw it back up and continued juggling effortlessly. Justin watched his hands a little more carefully than he absolutely needed to.

Chris' hands were the only part of him Justin felt comfortable looking at right now. He tapped his fingers against his leg and tried to figure out what he'd done wrong. It wasn't that Chris didn't want him, Justin knew that. Justin had only kissed him once, or hadn't even kissed him really but just caught the side of Chris' face before Chris pushed him away, but he still knew Chris wanted him.

"I'm not a kid," Justin had told him, and it was really hard to say that without whining but he'd managed it.

"Yeah, nobody said you were," Chris had said. "What, that's the only reason not to do this?"

"Yes," Justin had said firmly, but Chris had just laughed and walked off.

Chris had looked back, though, and Justin knew that the problem wasn't that Chris didn't want him. He picked another orange up off the table and threw it at Chris.

He threw it a little too hard, and Chris had to reach for it and ended up dropping the other three oranges. "Damn it," Chris said, and dropped to the floor after them.

"Sorry," Justin said, and bent down to help. When he turned he found himself suddenly face to face with Chris. He just had time to think, holy shit, and then Chris pushed him back against the wall and kissed him.

Justin had spent a lot of time thinking about how he was going to kiss Chris, but he hadn't spent much time thinking about what it would be like when Chris kissed him. He should have, because right now all he could manage to do was wrap one arm around Chris' neck and let his mouth fall open when Chris' tongue pressed against his lips. Chris' hand slipped down around his ass and Justin dropped the orange he was holding. It bounced off the back of Chris' leg and Chris laughed. Then he stopped laughing.

"Listen, J," Chris said, and Justin banged his head back against the wall. "No, listen, I just want you to know — you know, we don't have to —"

"Oh my God," Justin said, and Chris laughed.

"No, J," Chris said. "It's just — it's your call. I want you to know that."

"Finally," Justin said, and when Chris laughed again Justin felt like he'd won something. Before he could stop laughing and start talking again Justin said, "I know, all right?"

"Because you have to want it. It has to be you — it can't just be because —"

"I know," Justin said again. "I know, and I do."

"Because I want you to have what you want," Chris said, and this time when Chris looked at him Justin felt like he'd been given something, something he didn't even know he'd wanted. Something he didn't even know someone could want.

"I know it's my call," Justin said, only partly because he knew Chris wanted to hear it. "And I know what I want."

"Good," Chris said. "That's good."

"It is," Justin said. "Because I called and you came."

Read the original story [here].

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