Schitzo
Challenge #1: No particular plot ideas. You just have to use the words: tumultuous, samaritan, antibiotics, binoculars, card shark (note, I did not come up with these words, lol)
Challenge #2: The guys are
playing the *NSYNC Backstage Pass game. The stakes are, whoever gets
there first (umm, I've never played the game so...I'm assuming whoever
answers the questions right and gets the backstage pass first wins?...yeah,
we'll say that's how it's played) gets to pick someone else to do -anything-
the winner wants for the rest of the night. However, one catch for
this challenge. No sex. .::big grin::. Of course, everyone
defines sex in a different way, so use your imagination... ;)
Copyright November 28, 2000 by Matthew Haldeman-Time
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: JC Chasez/Justin Timberlake, Lance Bass/Chris Kirkpatrick
Disclaimer: The young men who comprise *NSYNC are their own people. The author has not met anyone here described, nor does the author mean to suggest that these people act this way in real life. This writing is a work of fiction. I make no money from this venture.
Dedication: Ewan, SG slashers, Sammy for the challenges.
Wherein there's a gap to be bridged, and a game of bridge to be played, and am I going for metaphor city here?
Notice: I don't know that game. How sad. So I'm going to use the words from the first challenge, but keep the no-sex catch from the second challenge. Okay?
Joey shifted in irritation. "Pass."
"Two hearts," JC said.
"Pass," Lance said, disappointed.
"Three no trump," Chris said.
Justin smacked Chris's shoulder. "You're not even playing."
"So?" Chris asked. "I can't believe you guys are playing. I'm the adult here-"
Four disbelieving snorts.
"Hey!" Chris exclaimed. "I am. I'm the oldest."
Lance raised his eyebrows and smiled. "Is that your entire argument? You're the oldest?"
"And the shortest," Joey said.
"And the hairiest," Justin said.
"What?!" Chris demanded.
Justin tugged on Chris's goatee. "Facial hair, Chris. I don't need to be thinking about the rest of all of that."
"You'd better not be thinking about the rest of all of that," Chris said. "Lance will kick your little rear."
"He can try," Justin said, tossing Lance a come-on glance.
"Can you just bid?" Joey asked Justin. "You and Lance can have a throwdown later. Over Chris's honor or whatever."
"You bid two hearts?" Justin asked JC. "And you passed," he said to Lance. He looked over his cards. "I'm passing."
"Pass," Joey said.
"Pass," JC said.
"Pass," Lance said.
"Two hearts it is," Justin said.
"You're both gay," Chris said.
"What?" JC asked. "Yeah."
"I'm bi, man," Justin said. "I got it going on with everybody."
"You wish," JC said.
"Yeah, I do," Justin agreed.
"Why are you still straight?" Lance asked Joey across the table.
"Bad taste, I guess," Joey said, dropping the five of diamonds.
Justin began to lay out his cards. "Are you asking for fun or just to make sure we didn't go straight?" he asked Chris. "You want a daily update on our sex lives?"
"Why aren't you two together?" Chris asked.
"Who?" Justin asked. "Me and JC?" He drew his hands back into his lap to hide their sudden tremble. "We're friends."
"You can't have the two leads hook up," Lance said.
"I think it would be kind of cool," Joey said. "Would you stop taking tricks?" he asked JC. "When did you turn into Mr. Card Shark? You've been winning all night."
"I pay attention to the game and not to Chris's theories on who I should be sleeping with," JC said.
"I just think that you should be together," Chris said. "I didn't say you should have sex."
"Then how would that be any different from their relationship already?" Joey asked.
"It would be different," Justin said. It would. It would be very, very different. Even without sex. Just being able to...to feel this way, to tell JC, to be able to touch JC, to be that close... Just thinking about the emotional impact was making his cock start to get hard.
When he was younger, he'd had a crush on JC. Then he'd gotten big and famous and developed some weird, intense arrogance. Then one day he turned around and realized that there was a new tension in the group, this new, slim, unbridgeable gap between himself and JC. They were both the lead, and the media had tried to make him number one, and he'd had no problem accepting that position. JC hadn't complained, hadn't said a word about it. And now the media were beginning to see that there was more than Justin to *NSYNC, and they were all getting some attention, and JC was getting well-deserved respect. But Justin had put a distance between them, and now that he desperately wanted to be close to JC, really and truly close, he couldn't.
They weren't exactly competitive. It was just that JC was off doing his own thing, and Justin did his own thing, too, and they didn't share anything. They'd been so close once...
But now...
"...with these big old binoculars, just staring in at us," Chris was saying.
"No one's going to do that," Joey said.
"Just close the blinds, draw the curtains," JC said. "Don't worry about it."
"No one wants to watch us having sex," Lance told Chris.
"Am I getting paranoid in my old age?" Chris asked.
"You're just nervous because you're finally in a good relationship and you're worried that something will go wrong," Joey said. "Like everybody finding out you're gay. Can we stop playing now? If JC's just going to win all of the time-"
"You weren't complaining when he was your partner," Lance said.
"Yeah, well, now he's Justin's partner, which means that we're losing, and that's not as much fun as winning."
"Are you in there?" Chris asked Justin.
"What?"
"That means no," Joey said.
"Ow! Damn it," JC said, sucking on his finger.
"What?" Lance asked.
JC looked at his finger. "Ow. I cut myself on the edge of the card table hinge thingy." He put his finger back in his mouth.
"You need anti...antibiotics. Antibacteria. What?" Chris asked.
"Let me see," Lance said, taking JC's hand. "Ouch. Band-Aid. Neosporin. You'll live to play the piano again."
"Come on," Justin said, rising. JC followed him down the hallway and he was suddenly very aware that he and JC were close together, relatively alone, under bright lights. He avoided his own gaze in the bathroom mirror as he pulled open a drawer by the sink. "Rinse it off or something first."
"You'd make an excellent doctor," JC said.
"Yeah, thanks." He tried to find a Band-Aid that wasn't pointlessly small or ridiculously large. Nervous, he babbled. "I don't know, doctors have that whole... I'm just way too self-absorbed. Doctors should be people who put others first. Like Good Samaritans or something."
"You put others first," JC said.
Justin flipped open the Neosporin. "I'm nineteen, I'm wealthy, I'm the Hottie of the Year. You think I put others first?"
"Stop it," JC said, half gently, half sounding mad at him, putting the non-bleeding hand over his. The tube dropped from suddenly nerveless fingers. He kept his gaze lowered, because he didn't want to look, didn't want to see, didn't want to know. "I know you're not like that."
"I'm not nineteen?"
"You're not self-absorbed. You care a lot about other people."
His chest was aching in this weird way that almost felt good. "I lied."
"What?"
"I lied. I don't put myself first." He raised his gaze almost to JC's eyes but not quite. "I put you first."
JC's hand dropped.
Shit. Oh shit. Oh god.
"What?"
"I...JC..." He closed his eyes.
"What?" JC asked, almost too quietly.
"I love you and I know you don't love me and I'm sorry if you don't like me anymore and I'm sorry that there's been this weird stupid distance between us we used to be so close and now it's like we're in the same room and we don't even know each other and it's been like hell and I keep wanting to kiss you and I'm having these weird romantic novel heart-pounding tumultuous feelings over you and god I want your body and I'm sorry and-"
"Justin!"
He opened his eyes. JC was looking at him. "Yes?"
"You're in love with me?"
"Yes."
JC's eyes had this odd, pretty light in them. "Really?" His voice sounded like he'd just been given a beautiful gift out of the blue.
"Yeah."
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"I didn't want you to go any farther away."
"I'm not far away. I'm right here."
"But you've been...there's this..."
"I know. We haven't been close for a long time now."
"I miss you," Justin said. He'd poured out his feelings, but that was still hard to say. "And you're bleeding on my floor."
"Oh. Sorry," JC said. "This really hurts. Could you...?"
"Sure." Justin took JC's hand, stemmed the final drops of blood. "JC?"
"Yeah?"
"Did I just tell you that I want your body?"
JC smiled his most gorgeous smile. "Yeah."
"Can you pretend that you didn't hear that?"
"Why?"
"JC?"
"What?"
"Is your hand on my butt?"
"Yes."
"Okay."