Comeback

Comeback

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: JC Chasez/Brian Littrell

Disclaimer: The young men who comprise the Backstreet Boys and *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: This slashfic is for Ewan McGregor and the Savage Garden slashwriters.

Wherein there is the Mafia, Marvin the Martian, and food, JC, he's talking about food.

Notice: First read "Coming" and "Come."

Alla

On the plane:

"He's coming! He's coming!" Joey bounced around JC.

"He's coming! He's coming!" Justin bounced around JC in the opposite direction.

"He's-"

Lance grabbed Chris's arm. "Don't you start."

"He's coming! He's coming!"

"We're coming, too," JC pointed out.

Joey stopped bouncing. "I'm not that excited."

On the bus:

"Almost there," Nick said, checking Howie's watch.

"I can't wait to see him," Brian said.

"Hope he puts out this time," AJ said.

"Shut up," Nick said.

"Brian, if he doesn't give you a ride, you come to me," AJ said.

"Thanks, AJ," Brian said. "I don't think I'll get that desperate, but thank you."

"What are brothers for?" AJ asked.

"Not that," Nick said.

At JC's apartment:

They embraced without hesitation. Brian kissed JC's cheek. Stepping back from the hug, Brian let his fingers trail through the ends of JC's hair. "What's this?"

JC pretended not to blush. "New mop."

Brian smiled. "You only draw attention to your beauty when you try to hide it."

To avoid replying, JC lifted Brian's luggage and started to walk from the foyer. "Where do you want to sleep?" When there was no answer, he turned. Brian was smiling, amused. Mortified, JC scrambled to explain. "Last time you were on the sofa in the - - there's a new - - in the - - it pulls out like a real bed - - I thought-"

"Wherever," Brian said, doing his best not to laugh. "It's okay, JC. Pull-out couch is fine."

JC set Brian's bags in the back room and returned to the front door. He and Brian sat in the living room, on the sofa. Brian touched his hair again. He slid his hand beneath his thigh to keep from touching Brian in return.

"You look good, JC. How've you been?"

"We just talked this morning."

"That was hours ago. How was the rest of the flight?"

"We tried to dye Lance's hair blue but he woke up."

"You didn't."

"No, we didn't. We were going to, but we couldn't decide on blue or green. Joey said it should match his eyes, but we only had blue, and Chris kept suggesting that we pour mustard in it to make it green, but...what?" Brian was laughing at him. He smiled and scratched his kneecap. "How was the ride? Is Kevin better?"

"Worse," Brian said. "I'll give you some advice now, in case you're ever tempted: do not throw up on AJ McLean."

"Oh," JC said. "Ugh."

"It was not a pretty sight. In any way. I felt worse for Kevin than I did for AJ."

"I'll keep that in mind," JC said. "Is Kevin still alive?"

"Not if AJ gets his way."

"Ouch."

Brian rested one elbow on the back of the sofa, propping his temple against his fist. "You look good."

"Thanks." JC couldn't meet Brian's eyes for an extended length of time. "You already said that."

"It's worth saying again."

"You look good, too. I've... I've missed looking at you."

"There is nothing more endearing than the way you get modest."

JC laughed. "God, I'm so nervous."

"We haven't seen each other for a while."

"We talk every day."

"That's different. You don't have to be nervous, Jace."

"I know."

"You look tired."

"So do you."

"I could sleep for a day or two."

JC rubbed his eyes. "At least."

"Go to bed. We can catch up later. If there's anything to catch up on."

JC met Brian's eyes. Brian was letting him off the hook, for a moment. Giving him an excuse to wait. Letting him procrastinate. God, what a friend. "If you get up and I'm still sleeping, make the place your own."

"Do I have your permission to wake you up?"

"If the apartment's on fire, and you can't put it out yourself, I guess."

Brian smiled. "Good night, JC."

"Good night."

They stood, and shuffled down the hallway, and Brian kissed his cheek again before they parted.

He was awake.

Maybe.

He'd wait.

A little longer.

He was awake.

No, not really.

Maybe now.

Just a few more...hours...

He was home. In his very own bed. In his very own apartment. In his very own-

JC sat up, startled. Brian. Brian was here. He stumbled out of bed and went to the bathroom. God, he looked lousy. Not literally, thank you. Shower. Shave. Something. He'd unpacked most of his bathroom stuff, so-

That wasn't his toothbrush.

JC swallowed, trying not to stare. It was just a toothbrush. Just a toothbrush, JC. Its only significance was that Brian practiced good oral hygiene.

Good oral-

God, JC, shut up and take a cold shower.

He showered and shaved and realized that he was in trouble. He was naked. His clothes were in his bedroom. He didn't want to put on his dirty clothes again, just to walk to his bedroom. But he couldn't run around naked. Towel. Towel around the waist. Good. Nice and secure. He'd scurry to his room and Brian wouldn't see a thing. Not that he cared if Brian saw. Not that - - god, JC, just go.

Brian saw naked men all of the time. Half-naked men. AJ, Howie, Kevin, Nick. If not other people. It was his understanding that Brian was celibate, but Brian didn't have to tell him everything.

He wondered if the Backstreet Boys had better bodies than he did. Brian probably wouldn't give him a second glance.

He peeked under the towel.

He heard laughter. Startled, mortified, JC stepped backward, slipped in a puddle of water on the floor, and landed on his butt, scraping his hand on the edge of the sink in a futile attempt to regain his balance.

Ouch.

Shit.

Knock on the door. "JC? Are you okay?"

He was fine, thank you very much. Glaring at himself, JC got to his feet, resecured his errant towel, and opened the bathroom door.

"He looks okay," Brian said into the phone. His eyes were worried, though. "JC, are you all right?"

"Tripped," JC said.

"Joey called while you were in the shower. He's - - what? He's wearing a towel. Yes, around his waist. I'm looking strictly above the neck. My mama reared me right. No, I'm-" Brian put one hand over his eyes. "Don't tempt me to sin."

JC took the phone from Brian's hand. "What are you doing?"

"Morning, JC."

"Hi, Joey."

"Brian ogling you?"

"No."

"What's wrong with him? Drop the towel."

"Joey!"

"Go get dressed. Let me talk to Brian."

"Why do you want to talk to Brian?"

"Why do you think?"

JC frowned. "I have no idea."

"Why would any red-blooded American male want to talk to that cute little thing with the pretty blue eyes and the-"

"Joey!"

"You aren't the only one who wants some, JC. Get dressed and give the phone to Brian."

"You worry me."

"He's cute."

"I know he's cute!" JC pretended Brian couldn't have heard him, even though Brian was about one foot from his side. "Hang up the phone, Joey."

"Say good-bye to Brian for me."

"Joey says good-bye."

"Bye, Joey," Brian said.

"Drop your towel."

"Good-bye, Joey," JC said, and turned off the phone.

"Sorry about answering your phone," Brian said. "I wouldn't have, but-"

"It's okay," JC said. "How long have you been up?"

"Long enough to get groceries," Brian said. "I can get you something to eat while you dress."

"I'm sorry. You-"

"It's okay. You haven't been home to do shopping. Do me a favor, though."

"What?"

"Go put on clothes before my eyes start wandering. Never mind about my hands."

JC turned red, tried to say, "Sorry," and escaped into his bedroom.

The phone rang while they were sorting laundry. JC sat on the bed, pushing aside socks, and said, "Hi."

"This is Nick Carter."

"This is JC Chasez. You want to-"

"I want to talk to you."

Oh. Why? "Me? Why?"

"Is Brian there?"

"He's..." God. Touching JC's underwear. "He's doing laundry."

"You done it yet?"

"Done...done what?"

"Get a move on, Chasez. He's been waiting for you forever now, and that's his business, but if you don't get your gay ass in gear, in his bed, I'll lose my patience. Brian's a good guy, and if he wants to wait for you, he can. But he's my best friend, and when he leaves your place he's hanging with me next, and I know I can find him somebody-"

"What are you-"

"I'm telling you this is your last chance. You're cute, JC, but you're not so cute there's nobody else Brian can sleep with."

"Do you mean you?"

"Hell, no. Howie would kill me."

Howie would... JC did not want to know.

"Make your move, Chasez. He's been waiting forever. We don't appreciate you leaving him hanging like this."

The Backstreet Boys were part of the Mob. Interesting. JC hung up the phone. "Where are you going after here?"

"After... You mean in the afterlife? I'm hoping for Heaven, but I wouldn't place any bets."

"Where are you going after my place?"

"Trying to get rid of me? I just got here. I was planning on heading over to Nick's. Might never get home at this rate."

They were sitting on the living room floor, coffee table pushed out of their way, laundry baskets by their sides, folding warm clothes. JC was learning new things, like Brian owned green underwear and socks with Marvin the Martian.

"You know one thing I like about you, JC?"

"I know all of the words to 'Pop?'" JC guessed.

"Your appalling lack of fashion sense."

"You like that?"

"Yes, I do. You're a unique person. You're beautiful and you look amazing in the worst clothes. I have to admire that."

JC tried to put his brain back in order.

"JC, you're folding that inside-out. JC. Jace." Brian tugged the shirt from his hands.

"Don't be nice and funny and cute and fun if you're going to say something like that. It comes out like nothing but you're saying so much and-"

"It doesn't mean anything, JC. You're one of the most attractive men I've ever laid eyes on, and I know that you don't know how beautiful you are, but when I say that, it doesn't mean anything. I'm not asking for anything."

He was breathing too loudly.

"If you can't even fold clothes right, maybe you should go back to bed."

He raised his eyes from the carpet, panicked.

"That wasn't asking for anything, either. Relax. It's been waiting between us this long, it can wait for awhile longer. There's no pressure here. We're friends. We're going to stay friends. You can't get rid of me no matter how hard you try. You don't have a deadline for this. Even if you decide to say yes when we're ninety and impotent, we can still figure out something fun to do."

"I'm not going to be-"

"At ninety? JC, even you have human limitations."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"All right, sexy boy. I'll finish here. You go forage for food."

"Why do-"

"I fed you, now it's your turn to feed me."

"You're hungry now?"

"Humans prefer more than one meal a day."

"Did you call me 'sexy boy?'"

"No."

"You-"

"Why would I call you that?"

"You-"

"You're hearing things, JC."

Sexy boy. He was sexy. And beautiful. Brian wanted to have sex with him.

Sex.

Private and intimate and passionate and-

God, he was hard in his own kitchen and Brian was going to walk in any minute and-

"Your clothes are folded, sir. I put them on the bed, but my duty stops there. You can..." Brian stopped talking.

JC opened the refrigerator door, hoping to hide behind it, hoping to get cooled off somewhat.

"What are we having?"

"Sex."

"I meant to eat."

JC was so shocked by himself that he didn't dare open his mouth again. He had not meant to say that. He had not wanted to say that. There was no way he'd actually said that. Out loud. To Brian.

"JC?"

Food. They were talking about food. There was food right in front of him. Kitchen. Refrigerator. Food. Hungry. Talk about food. He could talk about food. He would open his mouth and- "What do you want?"

"You. JC." Brian was close all of a sudden, prying his hand loose from the refrigerator door handle. JC allowed himself to be turned, let Brian close the door. Then they were face-to-face. Brian touched his hair. "JC. We don't have to do this now. Relax."

Relax. Brian. Close. Right in front of him. Right here. Up close and personal. Not close enough. Not nearly personal enough.

His bed was a mess. It didn't help that he put Brian right on top of the pile of clean, folded clothes. They half undressed each other and half undressed themselves, tugging at clothes indiscriminately. JC found himself on the bottom, beneath Brian, and greedy hands were pulling down his jeans, and he was naked. Naked. Without question, he was naked. He couldn't get any more naked than he was. And Brian's hands ran over his ass, behind his thighs, touching his naked, naked skin.

"What do you want to do?" Brian asked, kissing his mouth. Brian was on top of him, still half-clothed, kissing him, running that gentle, greedy hand over his thigh. No rush, no pressure, but Brian was not in any hurry to stop touching him.

"What..." He didn't know what to say. What were they supposed to do? Were they supposed to have sex? Real sex? Were they supposed to mess around and jerk off and postpone the real deal? Were they supposed to, god, he didn't even know if Brian wanted him on top or on - - well, he was on the bottom right now, wasn't he?

Brian kissed him. "Relax. You can be as horny as you want. You don't have to be nervous. You know I want you. I'm not here for my own agenda with a list of things to do. I'm just here to make sure you have a good time."

This was too good to be true.

"There's only one catch, and you already know what it is."

Oh, no.

"I love you, JC." Brian kissed him, sweet, eyes closed.

Oh, no.

Brian's hand slid up his chest. His breath caught and his body wanted to rise and follow that touch. JC kept his eyes open and got to watch Brian kiss his chest. Kiss his nipple. Teeth, oh, god...

Oh, god...

Brian...

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