Two
by willa

~..~

The first thing JC did to the house in LA was pull up the plush carpets and put in hardwood. This meant that Chris no longer got rug burns from JC's impatience, but instead had bruises deep down against his bones where no one could see.

"Come on, come on," JC urged, his fingers skidding in the drying sweat over Chris's ribs, underneath the shirt he'd put on after the show. Chris could feel his skin snag on the ragged edges of JC's bitten fingernails and knew that sooner or later the fingers would curl and it would sting.

"It doesn't always have to be like this," he said and grabbed JC around the wrists. Didn't have to be, but would be, because JC like this was raw and demanding. Chris brought one of his hands up and scraped his tongue then his teeth over the skin stretched tight between JC's thumb and forefinger. JC pressed his palm against Chris's jaw until his head fell back.

"Upstairs," JC said. His tongue was dry on Chris's neck and then he turned and was walking away.

Chris caught him six steps up and grabbed him roughly around the waist. JC leaned back but didn't turn, popping the button on his own jeans and arching his back. The heavy denim pooled around his ankles, no curves or fabric underneath to hold them up. The suddenly bare skin under his forearms was clammy with exertion and Chris knew it would taste like performance.

"Here, then?" JC bent his neck and bit Chris on the softest part of his throat, not bothering to be gentle. They didn't have to be, not anymore. Chris buckled and took JC to the stairs beneath him. He was aware of skin. The way it pulled across the muscle of JC's thighs, the small of JC's back as he lengthened his body up the incline, his own skin grinding over his kneecaps as he landed.

He tasted pyrotechnics in the dimples of JC's ass while he pushed his thighs wider apart with the back of his hand, and when JC keened above him he rested his cheek there and simply inhaled. Raised a hand to catch the sounds coming from JC's lips, so that JC could catch Chris's fingers between his teeth. Tongue and release.

"It's enough," JC said, looking down and panting.

"Christ, Jayce, let's just go upstairs." His hand, though, was already shaking on his belt, his zipper, his cock.

"I love you, Chris. I trust you. Please." And that was it, really, because JC loved them all but was stingy with his trust. Chris held him open and wasn't gentle.

With every push forward he hit the stair above, pounding a straight line across his thighs that would be sore for days. JC pushed up until his arms were straight, arching back, and Chris's chin hooked over his shoulder. Chris pressed his nose into the hollow beneath JC's cheekbone and one hand into the hollow of JC's ribs.

JC sighed against his palm and Chris came.

Chris lived in his own apartment, and Justin had never been friends with someone who was responsible for stocking his own fridge before. Chris could buy beer and kept Snickers bars nestled in the frost of his freezer. Sometimes, when Justin came over, Chris would let him pick which he wanted. He always took a beer even when he was craving chocolate because Chris was ten years older, and Justin didn't want to remind him of that.

The television only got three channels. One of them showed sports on the weekends, though, so Justin didn't mind coming over to sit on the couch with the missing cushion. He probably would have come even without the sports, especially the times Chris invited just him and not the rest of the guys. It was proof that Justin was Chris's best friend.

"Proms are dumb," Justin said. They were performing at one, next week, six whole songs before the DJ took over from them. He had the flyer on his lap, sloppy design work on hot-pink paper.

"And what do you know about prom?" Chris pulled the tab off his beer, careful not to break the tiny metal loop, threw it at Justin who caught it easily.

"This is a fuck-me tab," Justin said, tasting the words in his mouth. Unbroken ring. Fuck-me tab. He wondered if Chris had ever tried that on a girl.

"And what would you know about that, Ju?"

"It's not like I'm stupid, Chris. Proms are boring and this," he fingered the bit of metal, "is a fuck-me tab."

"JC teach you about that?"

"I think JC might be gay." Justin slapped his hand over his mouth and blushed. He didn't think Chris would say anything, they were best friends and all, but JC had been really good to him and it's not like he knew absolutely or anything and the group was just beginning and he might have ruined everything.

"Gay people don't believe in the fuck-me tab myth?" Chris was going to let him off the hook, then. Justin giggled and shook his head.

"I don't think gay people go to the prom."

Chris was suddenly in his lap, one arm tight around Justin's neck, a fist scrubbing hard over his scalp. Justin didn't even try to push him off, just laughed and laughed until no sound came out and his eyes were watering. When he started to cough Chris fell backwards and waited for him to settle.

"This might be the only prom you ever go to, you know." Chris pulled the flyer out from under Justin's thigh and sounded kind of serious, which always made Justin uneasy.

"Did you ever go?"

Chris nodded and looked away.

"It was pretty dumb," he said.

"I don't care if I ever go to one," Justin said. He didn't quite mean it, though. Prom seemed like one of those things that meant you were getting older. He really wanted to be older. "We'll do something better anyway."

"Yeah, we will." Chris balled up the paper and tossed it across the room before he launched at Justin again, fingers digging into his sides. Justin howled and slid to his back, looking up at Chris and knowing that even though it was so soon, he would always choose this.

"We've only got twenty minutes," Chris said, pushing JC away from him and taking a long pull from his bottle of water.

"Doesn't take twenty minutes every time." JC grinned at him.

The rehearsal facility had many dark hallways, and they were in one. Every sound echoed against the concrete floors and cinderblock walls. Chris thought it amplified even the sounds of JC's hands pulling at his track pants.

"Besides," JC said, "that's not even what I wanted. I missed you."

Chris laughed and pulled JC close. Just five hours ago he had awoken on JC's couch, JC asleep between his legs, both of them naked and covered in a soft wool blanket. He smoothed JC's hair back off his forehead and kissed him on the chin.

"It not even lunchtime yet," he said.

"Doesn't matter." JC snuggled against Chris and tucked one fist up under his own chin. "Already too long."

He wondered when it had started feeling like this, hours away from each other feeling like days. Wondered when it would end and JC would realize that Dani's unavoidable leaving had left behind a shell of Chris, and not even JC was enough to bring him back into himself on the bad days. Still felt sorry for himself and feared that his pitying sentimentality would never let anything else be enough.

JC kissed him with closed lips and held his hand.

"Let's go back, okay?"

"Nuh-uh, still got ten minutes." JC nuzzled him.

"Five."

JC's lips on his ear and Justin standing just a few feet away, staring at the floor and paling by the second.

"You've only got five minutes," Justin said again, voice used, hands clutched in fists at his side. JC didn't even stiffen against Chris, just moved slightly to the side and regarded Justin with sharp blue eyes. It was up to Chris to say something.

"Listen, J, I know that you-"

"You don't know anything," Justin interrupted him. "So why don't you just. Not. Just don't talk to me for a little bit, okay?"

"It's not okay," Chris said. JC was still loose in his arms. "We should."

"No." Justin held up a hand. "We really shouldn't."

"He wanted to tell you," JC finally spoke up. It was a lie. "I asked him not to."

It was the wrong thing to say. Chris knew it even before Justin choked and clutched at his stomach and turned away. Chris would never keep secrets from him because someone else wanted him to. It wasn't the way their friendship worked.

"You should go after him," JC said. His fingers were bony and squeezing tight. Chris shook his head.

"I should have stopped chasing after him years ago," Chris said.

"At least he knows, and now we can tell the others. I'm tired of being so careful, Chris."

Chris stared at the place where Justin had been.

"We were never careful enough," he said, but hugged JC close to him anyway.

Chris knew more German than any of them, and Justin knew enough to know that Chris could be funny in more than one language.

The three girls who had followed them back to their hotel were sitting close together at their feet. Justin thought the dark-haired one with the violet eyes was the prettiest one, but she kept touching Chris on the knee and smiling at him. Chris would probably take her out to the pool area or something after Justin's mom made him go to bed.

He licked his lips and tried to get the attention of one of the other girls, either one would do. They were both blond and small and had glitter on their shoulders. He wondered if they were sisters. He could ask them, he knew the proper words in German and even thought they probably spoke enough English to understand.

".up early in the morning," Chris said, pressing high thigh even harder into Justin's, catching his attention.

"Oh, yeah." Justin nodded. Usually they would talk like this, in the lobby or out in the parking lot until someone came to get them. Justin's mom, or Lance.

Chris said goodnight for the both of them, joking about something that Justin thought had to do with cockroaches. All three girls giggled. The violet-eyed girl looked disappointed. Justin waved at her and didn't even feel guilty.

"You didn't want to stay?" he asked Chris when they got into the elevator.

"Nah. They're just girls."

"But that one girl, she really liked you, you could have, maybe." Chris smirked at him and Justin shrugged his shoulders. He didn't want Chris to go off with that girl anyway.

"I thought you and I could have an early night," Chris said. "I'm sort of tired."

"It's a good kind of tired though, right? I mean, people like us here. When Joey flipped you across the stage today, and all those girls screamed? It was so cool."

The elevator stopped and Chris walked ahead of him down the hallway. He stopped at the room Justin was sharing with Lance and handed him a plastic keycard.

"You know, I can carry my own key," Justin said.

"You mean lose it." Chris flicked him on the ear and Justin swatted his hand away.

"I don't always lose things," he said. "And, anyways, Lance lost the key at the last hotel. That wasn't my fault at all."

Chris rolled his eyes and tucked one long strand of hair behind his ear. One of the blond girls from before had a similar haircut but it didn't look very good on her.

"Because nothing is ever your fault, J."

"Of course not." Justin puffed out his chest and lifted his chin as Chris stepped across the hall to his own room. "I'm the perfect one."

"Yeah," Chris said, opening his door and stepping inside. "Perfect pain in my ass."

The door slammed shut before Justin could get at him.

Kissing, Chris thought, should probably never feel this good. Anything this good should include at least some heavy petting, and preferably some nudity. Instead he was laying in the dark of his hotel suite, JC above him but completely clothed, kissing and kissing until his tongue felt swollen and his mouth was completely dry.

And it didn't even matter that JC's hands were unmoving beneath his shoulders, and that his own hands never left off from clutching into JC's hair. It was pretty much the hottest thing Chris had ever experienced.

"I think about you," JC said. "Sometimes. When we haven't.for a while."

Chris nodded and kissed him again. It wasn't much of a confession, but like the kissing it felt like more.

"Me, too," he said. "Maybe we should. You know. Do this more often."

JC rolled to the side and Chris realized just how cold the room had gotten.

"You mean." JC touched him on the chest, over his heart. "You mean, like boyfriends?"

Chris had never had a boyfriend. He had fucked boys before, maybe even more boys than girls. But he'd never wanted to stay with one, not the way he wanted to stay with Danielle.

"I don't think we should try to call it something." Chris might as well have just admitted that he was using JC for all the good kissing, the way that sounded, and it wasn't even totally true.

"Because you have a girlfriend," JC said. "Because you're trying to work it out with her."

"I'm sorry," Chris said, covering JC's hand with his own.

"It's okay, man. It's not like I didn't know that."

"Do you want to stop?" Chris wanted JC to say no, because he didn't want to. Not at all.

JC rolled back on top of him and slid his hands under Chris's shirt, all his weight held on his forearms. Chris felt warm again instantly.

"No," JC said. He kissed Chris again and this time there were fingers on his nipples and teeth on his neck. Hips rolling against his and JC's voice in the dark confirming his decision (no, no, no) until Chris palmed his cock over his pajama pants and JC hissed, "yes."

Chris liked the Quiet Room a lot, even though JC was the one who initially requested it. Justin didn't understand, at first, because all you could do in the quiet room was sit. Usually it wasn't even more than a storage space cleared out enough for a rug and a rented couch. The other room, the one with all of their costumes in it, at least had video games and weights.

But sometimes, when he and Chris were in the Quiet Room alone, Chris would tell him things.

"I was scared this wasn't going to happen," Chris told him. Their time in Europe was almost up and they all ached to go home.

"That's not true." He shifted closer until their shoulders were touching. "You were the only one who thought this was gonna work."

Chris shook his head and picked at the torn cuticle of his left thumb. When it started to bleed, Justin had the urge to put it in his mouth, suck Chris's blood right down his throat. Blood brothers.

"I knew that we were going to work. The five of us. But the rest of all this," Chris looked around the room, plain gray walls set off by an elaborately catered table, "the rest of this is a surprise."

Justin thought of the girls who had chased their car that morning when they'd left the hotel. The sounds of their fists on the roof, the high-pitched screeching that he'd come to associate with being outside, the looks in their eyes and the tears on their faces. He had seen a girl trip and fall in the street, only to get up with a cut across her knee and start running again.

"Do you think it'll be like this when we get home?"

He didn't know what he would do if it wasn't. If they took all their hit singles home to America, and nobody cared. He didn't want to go to high school and pretend he had never known anything better.

"Yes. I think you, Justin Timberlake, will still get laid when we get back home."

"Because the sex is all that's important here," Justin said with sarcasm, even though the sex part was pretty good.

Chris leaned back against the arm of the chair and closed his eyes. Justin looked at his watch. They had thirty minutes before they'd have to get into costume.

"We'll get to make new videos, and they'll play them on MTV," Chris said.

"Maybe we'll get to work with some famous director, who knows people in Hollywood. Maybe we can even film in Los Angeles." Justin stretched out his long legs and put his feet in Chris's lap. Chris's hand went around his ankle immediately.

"And we'll be on the cover of real magazines. Ones that our friends will read."

"We'll make a new album," Justin said. "And they'll let us put our own songs on it, JC's songs."

Chris laughed as if that was the funniest thing he had ever heard.

"I'll buy my mom a house," he said when he had quieted down.

"Me, too," Justin said, even though his mom already had a pretty nice house.

"I can't fucking wait to go home," Chris said, opening his eyes and letting Justin see just how much he meant it.

"Yeah," Justin said.

JC's suit was wrinkled and he'd already gotten his shirt mostly unbuttoned when Chris answered the door.

"I'm sorry," JC said. "I was just sitting there, after, and I got so angry. And no one really understands, not really."

Chris held the door open wide for him to come in. His own suit was strewn around the living room. He couldn't wait to get it off when he'd gotten back from the first set of meetings with the lawyers.

"My mess is your mess," he said and JC took him at his word, dropping his suit jacket on the floor near Chris's pants, balling up his shirt and throwing it against the wall. Chris could see him shaking with frustration. "Where are the others?"

"Lance is with his parents back at their hotel, I think. Justin might be with them? Maybe?" JC shrugged. "I think Kelly took Joey out to get him wasted."

Chris dug in his cabinets and produced a bottle of whiskey, some no-name brand that he couldn't even remember buying.

"Sounds like a plan," he said, setting two jelly-jar glasses on the cabinet and pouring them full. They wouldn't need anything to mix it with. Not today.

"My parents feel really guilty about not being here," JC told him. He took a huge gulp from his glass and winced. "But they just can't take off work, and if we go to trial.they'll want to be here then."

"It's understandable." Chris topped them both off and sank heavily onto the floor of the galley kitchen. JC slid down the refrigerator and leaned against him.

"I'm so fucking sick of wondering what's going to happen to us if this doesn't work out."

"Ah," Chris mumbled around his glass. "But that's your job. My job is to get mad and throw things and be pessimistic."

"Trade me jobs?" JC wrapped one long arm around Chris's waist and held on tight. "I'm not doing a very good job at mine."

Chris was hit with the sudden urge to cry. He hadn't done it, not a single time. Not since they were served with the papers for breach of contract.

"Sure, Jayce," he whispered, his nose in JC's short hair. "If that's what you need."

JC raised up and kissed him softly on the lips, lingering long enough for them to exchange whiskey-soaked breath. It was, maybe, the fourth time they'd ever kissed.

"It's good to have someone close," JC said. "Love. Not love. Something like love, something you write songs about."

"Something very much like that," he said, and even though it was so new, it was already true.

Chris had sometimes kissed boys when they were in Europe. Justin thought it was probably just something you did when you were in countries where it was so common. He'd actually kissed a couple of boys, too, once when they were in that kind of bar. It wasn't very much different from the girls he had kissed, except there was no lipstick aftertaste.

Now that they were home, he hadn't thought any of them did it anymore, except that Dani and Chris got into a big fight early in their relationship and Justin heard her shouting about some mysterious "him."

"So," Justin said, letting himself into Chris's hotel room after Dani had slammed out of it. "Sounds like something's up."

"You could say that." Chris was crouched in his boxers in front of the mini bar, pushing aside bottled water and cans of tonic.

"Want to talk about it?"

"Nope."

Justin eased himself onto the corner of Chris's bed, careful not to stray onto the unmade part. Dani had been there all night, after all.

"Come on, man. I could hear you all the way across the hall."

"Then you should know why I don't want to talk about it," Chris said, closing the small refrigerator so hard that the contents rattled inside. His knees popped loudly when he stood and Justin winced right along with him.

"She's pretty mad, huh?"

Chris took two steps and then threw himself onto the bed, burying his head in one pillow and clutching another to his chest.

"This is so fucked up," he mumbled. "Stupid. So. Fucking. Stupid."

Justin stretched out next to him and tried to pry the pillow away from Chris's face. Chris shoved at him, but Justin just moved closer.

"It's about another guy? Chris?" He'd been a little bit jealous of Dani. After all, before her, Chris hadn't really needed anyone but Justin. And now they had to ration their time together so that Chris could be a good boyfriend. Only now there was someone else, too.

"I really don't want to talk about this."

"When? I mean, you've been spending a lot of time with Dani, and when you're not with us, you're always complaining about needing some time alone. So." Justin saw that Chris had gone limp, his fingers loose on the pillow covering his face, and Justin pulled it away. "So when would you even have time to cheat on her?"

"Justin. Just drop it, okay?" Chris really meant it. His eyes were enormous, and his mouth was set in that straight line that only appeared when he was serious.

"I." He didn't want to drop it. He wanted to know who it was, and when it had happened.

"It's not like I cheated on you," Chris said, and it stung.

"Of course not! We're not even like that, you and me." But maybe that was why he sort of hated Dani, even though she was a really nice girl. He felt his eyelashes flutter and he gulped.

"No, Justin."

"What? I didn't even-"

"No." Chris was firm, but Justin kissed him anyway, very carefully covered Chris's lips with his own and barely moved them. Chris didn't move at all, just waited until Justin had pulled away and stared at him, eyelids rapidly blinking.

"Oh," Justin said, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

"Yeah, um. I should probably try to go find Dani," Chris told him. He nodded dumbly.

"She's probably just downstairs. If you hurry."

"Thank you," Chris said, and left him stunned on the bed.

Joey drew the short straw and got a room all to himself for the last week they were in Europe. Since Lance's mom was still insisting that he be kept in a room with Justin, Chris had gotten stuck with JC.

It wasn't that he didn't like JC. JC didn't take up more than his share of the space in the bathroom, and he was always willing to let Chris have the first shower on mornings when they woke up hung over. He even folded Chris's clothes when he left them on the floor, and put them tidily in one of the dresser drawers. He knew a lot about Justin from the Mouse Club days, and a lot about Joey just because they'd been friends forever. JC didn't mind telling stories about them, as long as Chris asked the right questions.

"So you're saying the kid was getting some even back then?" They were both lying on Chris's bed, already changed into their pajamas. JC had brushed his teeth and the smell of wintergreen tickled Chris's nose.

"We all spent a lot of time together, and everyone got curious and bored. I'm surprised he doesn't know more than he does."

"He's never gonna know what it's like to get turned down." Chris probably would have been annoyed if Justin wasn't his best friend. "Little bastard."

"No, no." JC shook his head and the entire bed shook with it. "Tony turned him down once. Said Justin didn't know what he was doing."

"And did he?" Chris had seen Justin, once, in the corner of a club with another boy. Justin's mouth had been open, his eyes closed, while the guy sucked on his neck. There'd been a mark there the next day.

"Sure. He thought Tony was really cool. Thought it would make Tony like him better."

Chris snorted and JC giggled beside him. Justin could be such a kid sometimes.

"What about you, C? Did you learn everything you needed to know about sex from the Mickey Mouse Club?"

"Hell, no."

"No boys you wanted to impress?" Chris scooted closer and noticed that JC was trying to act like he was asleep. Interesting. "JC?"

"You should kiss me," JC said, eyes still closed.

"What?"

"I think you should kiss me."

"Why?" But he was already putting one hand on the side of JC's face. He really was sort of pretty like this. "It's not like you've never kissed a boy before."

JC's eyes opened and he smiled big, with teeth.

"But I've never kissed you before," he said.

Chris didn't treat him any differently, afterwards.

They were in Justin's backyard playing basketball, both of them shirtless and drenched in sweat. They'd been doing that a lot since Chris convinced Dani to come back with him that day. Like Chris was saying he was sorry, and that Justin was right.

"Fuck, Timberlake. It's too goddamn hot for this."

Justin pushed past him, one hand out to keep Chris away from the ball and put an easy lay-up through the hoop. Chris half-heartedly accepted the rebound and dribbled to the top of the key.

"Seriously, man. It's, like, eight million degrees out here."

He laughed and pressed closer, daring Chris to try to break past him.

"Brit's gonna be here this weekend," Justin said.

"So?" Chris cocked his head to the side and bounced the ball steadily, leaning forward and protecting it with his body. Justin tracked a bead of sweat down Chris's forehead and watched it slip into his eye. Chris didn't even flinch.

"I'll be all tied up with my hot woman, and you'll be all alone. You should take advantage of me while you can."

Chris pushed against his chest and slid right past him while Justin was trying to figure out why in the hell he would say something like that. Shit. Chris had a really great jump shot.

"I'm sure I'll keep myself busy," he said, finding his shirt in the grass and wiping it across his face.

"You should call JC. He's been holed up in the studio ever since Joey and Lance started filming."

"Maybe," Chris said.

The tape player died with the loud squawking of quickly unspooled ribbon and rehearsal just sort of stopped right after. Joey and Lance were to huddling in a corner. Joey appeared to be soothing Lance's continuously bruised ego while Lance tried hard not to cry. Justin was running away from JC, staying ahead only because of his coltish legs. He screeched when JC landed a hand on his back, and bent backwards so far that he should have fallen over. Justin laughed with his mouth wide open, ha-ha-ha.

They circled around Chris once, twice. On the second rotation, JC skidded to a stop and let Justin sprint off across the concrete floor of the warehouse. He hit the far wall with a soft thud.

"How long do you think it'll take him to come back?" JC was always a little sweaty, even when his skin was cold. Chris could see it on his forehead, the side of his throat.

"That's the real question," Chris said, "because he'll always come back. He's waiting for you to forget that you know this, though."

Across the room, Justin was watching them, his arms across his chest, his eyes narrowed. He was young and eager and had already claimed Chris as his own. Chris didn't even mind it much.

"What he doesn't know," JC leaned in and spoke in a stage whisper, watching Justin carefully," is that we've got him figured out."

"He'd probably say the same about you, C. That he has you all figured out."

"Sure, man," JC hooked his arm around Chris's neck and pulled him close. Soft puffs of air against Chris's neck and the salty smell of rehearsal. "I'm an open book."

JC was five years and five hundred experiences younger than Chris, but they had the same energy, channeled differently. They were both in their early twenties yet skinny like adolescent boys. JC, though, did pushups each night before bed and had bunchy muscles in his shoulders, arms and back. Chris's energy didn't work that way. He had always preferred to focus on things that would actually eventually matter. Or would at least provide a modicum of fun.

"Wide open," Chris said and JC smiled with crooked teeth, tightening his fingers on Chris's shoulder until it stung just a little.

Justin grew tired of watching and turned toward one of the many mirrors mounted around the room. He began dancing to the music playing in his head. Even without the benefit of hearing it, Chris knew he was perfectly in step