I

I Need You Tonight, a slashfic in four parts, the first story in the "Living" series

Rating: NC-17 for graphic male-male sex

Disclaimer: The young men who comprise *NSYNC, the Backstreet Boys, 98 Degrees, and Five; and the various blonde females mentioned here, 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 slashers. Also for Nick Carter, who said, "Things are made to be broken."

Notice: I've toyed with the real-life timeline, but that's okay, because this is fiction, so deal with it. Also, as I wrote this JC hit his 24th birthday, which makes Justin 19, if you wondered.

"I Need You Tonight" Part One: I

Justin had called Lance but received no answer. Chris and Joey hadn't come home yet. That left JC. JC, who wasn't speaking to him. JC, who had given him the nastiest glare this side of Britney. And Britney in a hissy-fit was nothing to toy with, as he knew well. Although, after a while, he hadn't been able to resist poking and prodding and acting just right so she'd go off on him. That had pretty much signaled the end of their relationship.

He didn't know why JC was mad at him. He'd assumed that it was just end-of-the-tour stuff, too much stress and too little sleep, wanting the tour to end so that they could have normal lives for a day or two, but still knowing that it was coming to an end and wanting it to go on forever. At least that's how he felt. He lived for their tours, couldn't get enough of them. Performing onstage, knowing that that crowd was there for them, for him. He could feel the love, all right.

And the signs asking them to drop their pants...well, those were just too funny.

JC was pissed. He'd rather leave it alone, give JC time to cool off, but he wanted to hang out with somebody.

Well, if he only wanted somebody, he could find somebody in a heartbeat. He had friends, he had fans, he could get mobbed in a phone booth if he wanted.

But he didn't want just friends, or just fans. He loved his fans; logically, without fans, he'd be nobody. They'd made him and they could unmake him, fast. But that wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to hang out with the guys, with Chris and Joey and Lance and JC. But Chris and Joey and Lance weren't around, so that left JC. So JC could just stop being mad at him, could just get over it, because he wanted to hang out and JC was all he had.

He called.

JC wasn't there.

He knew where JC would be, though. Post-tour, pissed-off JC only had one place to go.

He grabbed his jacket and headed out the door.

Justin peeked through the window. Yep, there he was, sitting before the piano, frowning at the keys. Justin grasped the doorknob and entered the studio. "Hey."

"What're you doing here?" JC asked, looking at him like he'd done something wrong.

Well, he hadn't done anything wrong. "Thought you'd be here."

"Yeah, you know me so well." JC turned back to the keyboard, snatched the music off of the stand, like it was all so private. This was new; JC wasn't all secretive about that stuff normally.

"What's wrong with you?" Justin asked, trying not to sound mad. He wasn't mad. He was just upset that JC was acting like they were having a fight; they weren't having a fight, not that he knew of, JC was just mad at him for no reason. Wait. If he was mad, then they were having a fight. Right? Except they weren't having a fight. He was mad because they weren't having a fight? Oh, screw it. "What's wrong with you?" he tried again.

"Nothing. I just wanted to be alone."

"I didn't. What are you writing?"

"Nothing."

That was totally unlike JC. Something was wrong here, seriously wrong. "Are you mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad at you?"

"That's what I'm saying, man. You're mad at me for no reason. I didn't do anything."

"Why are you here?"

Hadn't JC asked that already? Oh, yeah, but he hadn't answered. "Nobody else is home."

"So you got desperate and came to see me?"

"I would've tried you first, but you're mad at me."

"I'm busy. Why don't you try somebody else?"

"There's nobody else to call."

"What about your three billion fans?"

Normally that would've been totally...innocent? Innocuous. Whatever. Funny, even. But JC's tone was all wrong, everything was all wrong; JC was acting all pissed and creepy. When had it started? It hadn't been this obvious before, but it had been there. For how long? He couldn't remember. They'd been busy with the tour, the concerts, the appearances, rehearsals, awards, fans, everything happening at once, and at some point JC had just started acting pissy.

"God, you're just like Britney."

Woah did that get a reaction. JC was standing, suddenly, so fast and sharp that the piano bench fell with a loud crash, and JC was right up in his face, turning red with anger, about to bite off his nose. "I am nothing like her!" JC shouted, lots of emphasis on the "nothing."

Justin backed off quickly. "What the hell is with you? Don't kill me or anything."

JC grabbed the piano bench and righted it. "Just get out, Justin." He sounded embarrassed and exhausted and like Justin was two years old or something. Which was totally uncool, because JC was only four and a half years older than he was.

"Not until you start explaining. Or, I don't know, apologizing."

"Apologizing?" JC repeated like Justin had suggested that he kiss a pelican or something. "For what?"

"For acting like this, for going postal on me. I didn't do anything!"

"Oh, no, you didn't do anything," JC said. "You're so perfect and angelic with your big blue eyes and your blond curls. You're as blond as I am."

Oh, now that was a low blow. "I never said that I was perfect and I'm not angelic. And if you want to talk like that, what about you? JC Chasez - - the C stands for Chasez, JC. Kind of repetitive, don't you think?"

"Oh, go to hell."

"You first." Okay, now they actually were having a fight. Arguing. Not, like, breaking up the band and smacking each other fighting, but fighting nonetheless. Which might make JC say whatever was making him so weird, and they could get over it and go out for pizza or something. He could use some pizza. Besides, he knew for a fact that JC had no problem with fake blonds.

God, he should not have started to think about that. It just made him want to hit somebody.

Their argument seemed to have come to an end. Maybe he should say something else. "You want me to get out? Fine. I'll go. You can sit in here and act all pissy all by yourself, and I'll just go out and hook up with some of my, what did you say, three billion fans?"

"You shouldn't have a problem with that."

"What?" Did that mean something insulting? Apparently it did, although he wasn't sure what. Still, if he'd been insulted, he wanted to know about it.

"Oh get off it. Stop acting innocent, Justin. We all know it's you. You're the one everyone's there to see. You're the one they-" JC stopped talking all of a sudden and started looking down at the floor off to one side.

"What?" Justin asked.

JC just inhaled a little but didn't say anything.

Okay, first JC was snarky, then JC was all in his face and yelling, and now JC was being all weird and quiet. If they were going to fight, he wanted them to fight. But they couldn't fight about this; this was all wrong. "What? You think I'm like the front man or something? It's all of us, the five of us, *NSYNC. It's not like Diana Ross and the Supremes. You're not one of the Pips, JC. It's us, all of us, and the fans know that. You have girls sending you their underwear in the mail who couldn't give a shit about me, they just want you."

"You know you're the best," JC said, looking up and meeting his eyes, looking half angry and half like it just didn't matter anymore, like giving up. Which was sort of scary. JC didn't give up. JC was all energy. Normally. But there was nothing normal happening here.

"The best what?"

"You're the best singer. The best dancer."

"Of what, all of the Justin Timberlakes in the world?"

"Of us."

"Since when? Okay, I dance better than Chris does, but come on, we're all good, we're all the best. You dance great, JC. And yeah, I sing lead sometimes, but you sing it just as much, maybe more. And you're way wicked talented. What is this, you know you're awesome, what are you talking about?"

"You're better than I am."

Now, that had to hurt. It was killing JC, something was killing JC. Normally they were, all five of them, completely up front about their strengths and weaknesses. That was how they worked so hard, all of the time; they knew what they could do and what they couldn't, and they knew how to help each other and how to get it done. So yeah, he was talented, but so was JC, and everybody knew it. Yes, okay, he was the best dancer in the group, but JC was damned good. And maybe the two of them did tend to lead, at least onstage, at least they sang lead, but it was together, it wasn't a competition. What was going on here?

"I think you're freaking me out," Justin decided.

"Good. Go."

"I didn't say I was leaving. What's with you? Just tell me what's going on. You think I'm better than you are? That's stupid. You think the fans like me better? That's wrong. What else?"

"Are you over her?"

"Britney? JC, you know that's over. Where've you been? And what do you care?"

"You deserve better."

"Don't I know it." He grinned.

"I don't know what you were doing with her."

"Come on, she's good. It's over now, I'm not going to trash her."

"No, you wouldn't, would you? It wouldn't be perfect and angelic of you."

"What the - - JC, I am not perfect and I'm not angelic. I'm just trying to be a decent human being. I thought you were one, too. God, would you just tell me why you hate me?"

JC blinked. Smiled. Slowly, and sort of...satisfied-looking, like hitting a high note just right. "I hate you." Like it was all coming together now.

"You don't. You can't. We're friends, man, we're friends."

"You're so perfect. Big blue eyes, blond curls, so cute and happy."

He wasn't going to deny that part, at least. "So?" Like it was a crime to be cute and happy. He was the Secretary of the Adorable and he wouldn't apologize for it.

"You're so perfect," JC said again. "God, I hate you. No matter how well I sing, you sing just a little better. No matter how well I dance, you're just a little better. The fans love you. You're so fucking beautiful I want to hit you."

JC was right in his face again, and he was sort of scared, to be honest, and he had no clue what was happening, but he wasn't about to admit it. "So hit me."

"I'd l-" JC's mouth shut fast, and JC just stood there, breathing, looking at him harder.

What did that mean? I'd love to? Was that it? Why not say it? He looked back at JC. "What do you have against blue-eyed blonds anyway?" He wasn't going to revisit JC's accusation that he wasn't really blond. "You know Britney's a brown-eyed blond."

"I don't give a shit about Britney."

"You hate her more or me more?"

"I don't hate you. I just...hate you."

"Glad we cleared that up. Are you ever going to tell me what's wrong? Do you really think that you're not as good as I am? Are you upset about something else and just yelling at me for fun? Are you jealous of me for getting Britney?"

Okay, that had probably been the wrong thing to say. He'd been going for the humor angle, but it had, um, sort of backfired, seeing as 150 pounds of JC Chasez had pushed him back against the wall. Not hard enough or sudden enough to hurt, but definitely making a point.

"Shut up about Britney."

"Why do you hate her?" He really wanted to know. When he'd been seeing her, JC hadn't been around much, now that he thought about it. The other guys had been cool, but JC hadn't really spent much time with her.

"You deserve better." JC backed off, walked toward the piano.

"So you hate her for my sake. Thanks, JC, but it's not really necessary. It was fun but now it's over."

"That's it?" JC turned around to face him. "That's all it is? Just fun?"

"I liked her."

"But it's over and it's just...over."

"What, I'm supposed to fall in love and have a grand romance?"

"Don't you want to?"

"I'm nineteen and I'm a guy. We don't do that."

"I do."

He licked his lips. "Really."

"Really." JC looked mad again.

"So, what, you don't just have fun? It has to be a real heavy relationship? You can't just hang out and make out and do stuff?"

"I don't do that. Not with people...not when it matters. And if it doesn't matter, why bother?" JC asked.

He so did not want to be hearing this.

"You shouldn't waste yourself on someone like her. You deserve better," JC said.

"So you...when you...it's for real."

"Yes."

No no no. Time to stop talking. Time to stop thinking. He tried to get his brain to shut up but it kept going, it kept telling him things he didn't want to hear.

JC still looked mad. "I can't believe you're having such trouble with this. You really can't understand just wanting to be with one person?"

"What, like, forever?" God, why was he still speaking? And why couldn't he get himself to stop saying something like that? He didn't want JC to answer, because he knew that the answer would be-

"Yes."

"So when you're with someone it's true love."

"Yes. Why can't you understand that?"

"I get it, JC. I get the thing about not playing around, one person one love, commitment, not wasting time when you know it won't last. I'm not a slut."

"You are such a slut. You're just-"

Would it be wrong to hit JC now? "You-"

"-untouchable."

"That makes no sense and you're a bastard." A slut. JC had called him a slut. Well, at least now he could focus on being angry over that and he wouldn't have to think about... Oh god.

"Your tight little clothes and your tight little body and your cute open smile, you're so available to everybody," JC was saying. "But no one can have you. Even Britney couldn't keep you. No one's good enough."

"I never said that."

"You didn't have to."

"What, it's like an unspoken rule? Hands off Justin, he's too good for you?"

"Yes."

"JC, nobody thinks like that. I don't think like that. And people, fans, are trying to grab me all of the time. Why are you insane today? And, so, what, if I'm supposed to be waiting for the right person to come along, but no one's good enough, what then? You want me to spend my life miserable and lonely? Thanks a lot, you're such a friend."

"You'll find someone who's not good enough and you'll think you're happy."

"If I think I'm happy, then I'm happy, so no loss. And you don't seem too happy, either."

"What?"

Shut up shut up "You know, with your" shut up shut up "person."

"What?"

That was it. There was this pain and fury and odd, wrenching sense of despair inside, and JC was acting like such a dick, and he just couldn't stand it anymore. JC had been all up in his face, so maybe now it was his turn. He walked right into JC's personal space and said, "I know about you and Nick."

"Nick?" JC stared at him. "Nick Carter? You know what about me and Nick?"

"I know you were with him. I know you were... And if you're all into commitment and monogamy and finding the right person for forever, then you've gotta be in love with him." JC was in love with Nick. For real. For good. That was it. And he knew, right then and there, right here and now, why it hurt. Why it hurt so much that he just wanted to die rather than face JC being in love with Nick. "Talk about cute blue-eyed blonds."

"I'm not in love with Nick. We never... You think I was with him? You mean...sex?" It was like JC could hardly say the word. Hello, welcome to the modern world, it was okay to say something like "sex." Besides, what guy didn't talk about sex? JC sure was loopy today.

"When Brian turned straight again."

"You mean when he dumped Nick."

"Yeah."

"So you think that Brian dumped Nick and I just scooped him up and now I'm with him? Justin, have you seen Nick around at all lately?"

"We've been busy. They've been busy."

"I'm not with Nick. I don't love him. When Brian dumped him yes, we spent time together, because he was upset. I've never touched him and he hasn't touched me. Because he is in love, with Brian, not with me."

"So...there's nothing."

"There never was anything."

"You don't love him."

"I don't love him."

He could breathe again. And JC smiled at him, just a little, like a reassurance, like hey we're still friends, like it was really JC and not the pod person who'd been in the room this whole time.

"Can you tell me what's wrong with you? Why you're being all weird and saying you hate me and all of this?"

JC sighed. "I'm having a few personal problems."

"Wanna have some pizza?"

Small smile. "Pizza's good."

"Good. Let's get out of here."

JC picked up some of the music on the piano but dropped two sheets. The papers drifted through the air and landed by Justin, who picked them up and handed them over to JC, who grabbed them fast, and he remembered how weird and secretive JC had been, so he grabbed them back super-fast and saw, scrawled across the top in JC's hand, "Timberlake." JC snatched the pages right back from him and looked ready to smack him.

"So is that a coincidence? Are you writing a song for me? Can I hear it?"

"No."

"No what? I asked you three questions. They can't all be no."

"Why can't you leave me alone!"

"Because we're going out for pizza. Can I hear the song? Will you play it?"

"Leave me alone." JC headed for the door.

Justin grabbed JC's elbow and pulled. "Come on, you've been a major jerk, you've insulted me like a million different ways, I just want you to tell me whatever's eating your ass so we can be friends. I don't know why I'm putting up with you, but we're friends, we've been friends for ages, let's just talk, or you can hit me or whatever, and then it'll be okay."

"It's not going to be okay."

"It will be. We're friends. We're a team. You don't...well, yeah, you do hate me, but you don't hate me, too. Could you explain that one?"

"I don't hate you. I just hate you for being smart and cute and talented and popular and beautiful and oblivious."

"Oblivious to what?"

"To how special you are, and to how important you are, and to how people feel about you."

"JC, I'm just a singer in a boy band. There are a ton of guys like me, and a million more who want to be like me. We're great, and we made it, and that's awesome, it's the best thing that's ever happened to me, but it doesn't make me any better than anybody else. I mean, yeah, it gets my ego all going just to have people screaming my name. But there are just as many screaming yours, and Lance's, and Joey's, and Chris's. And stop telling me how good-looking I am, because you also keep insulting me, and you know you're gorgeous."

"You think I'm gay."

Oh. Right. "I didn't, until I saw you and Nick spending all of that time together all of a sudden, and I thought...you know...that you guys were doing it. But I guess I was wrong."

"It didn't bother you?"

"What? That I thought you were gay? Why would it bother me?"

"Justin, people hate gay people."

"Well, duh." His eyes widened. "You... Where have you been? Are you totally in another world? You've known me how long now, since we were mice, and you - - you say I'm oblivious? Hello, JC, I'm like totally bisexual."

JC sat on the piano bench, staring up at him.

"Don't faint or anything. Are you okay?" He'd given JC a heart attack. Way to go.

"You're bi."

"Yes."

"You like guys."

"Love 'em. Especially the cute ones." He grinned.

JC grinned, too.

"So you don't hate me?" he asked, just to make sure.

"I'm...gay."

"So you are gay."

"So I am gay."

"So...good. I mean...okay. You're gay, I'm bi, we're not going to freak out over it."

"How did I not know? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought everybody knew. I mean, no, the fans don't know, the people don't know, but my people know, my friends and family. I was sure you knew. It's just...nobody ever talks about it, because we're all supposed to be straight. What good's a boy band if all they want are other boys? I mean, the media went crazy when I was seeing Britney. What if you really had been seeing Nick?"

JC smiled. "That would have been crazy."

"He is cute, though."

"Very."

"Too young for you."

"He's twenty."

"Still. You deserve better." They shared a smile. "So can we have pizza now? No, wait, you have to play me the song."

Just like that JC closed up again. Damn it. JC stood and took a step for the door; Justin moved in his way quickly, in the path to the door.

"I think we've done enough sharing for today," JC said. "If you want more, go watch a Lifetime Original Movie. I'm going home."

"We didn't share squat," Justin said. "You hate me, you don't like Britney, you think I'm a slut, you're, what, jealous? You think that I'm better than you are, or everybody likes me better? That's bullshit, JC, and you know it. Sure I can sing, I can dance, I can stick tight little clothes on my tight little body or whatever that was you said, but I don't have this...thing you have. This total dedication, inspiration, creative process thing that you do. That creative energy."

"You have no idea what this is about."

"And you're not going to tell me, either, are you? You're just going to hate me and get so mad you're like spitting nails or whatever, but you'll just tell me nothing and then accuse me of being oblivious! What kind of sense - - how fair is that?"

"None of this is fair," JC said, and right there Justin saw serious pain. JC was hurting. That's what this was about; something was hurting JC, and JC was just flipping out and taking it out on him. Which hurt, okay, but at least he was the target and that meant that he could help, maybe. He wanted to help. Even if it made JC call him angelic again, which was supposed to be an insult of sorts, but it made him, well, sort of happy, that JC thought of him like that.

Because JC was gorgeous. And very talented. Smart. Fun. His best friend. Onstage, singing, they shared the lead. And he wouldn't have shared it with anyone else.

"What's not fair?" he asked. "Come on, you're like on the verge of killing one of us, and no matter which of us you kill it'll mess up Lance's career, so just come on and tell me what's so hideously screwed up in the universe that it's making you flip."

"How much more obvious do I have to be?" JC asked him.

"A lot more, I guess. Wait, don't go. Damn it, JC, just stay for a second." He put one hand on JC's wrist and sat on the bench, thinking, resting an elbow on one knee, keeping JC tethered. Okay. What had he learned? JC hated him for being perfect, thought that he was untouchable, thought that Britney wasn't good enough for him, was writing songs about him...oh...um...was gay...had said that he was beautiful at least twice...had said that weird thing about his tight body... He raised his eyes, looking up at JC. "You don't want Nick."

"Not really."

"You want me?"

JC tried to pull out of his grasp, but he hung on, and he reached out with his other hand and pulled JC closer, and then JC was kneeling in front of him on the floor, sheet music dropped, his hands on JC's arm. He let go.

"You want me."

"I'm in love with you."

He saw it, now. Saw the hopeless, helpless love. Saw the pedestal. Saw the shuddering lust. Wondered how long it had been there, and how he could've been blind to it. "It's okay," he said, and he kissed JC.

He was kissing JC.

JC's mouth opened, and he took that as a sign of permission, so he just sort of eased right in there and took over, licking every little inch of JC's hot wet mouth. Oh god this was nothing like he'd expected. He really should kiss guys more often. He really should kiss JC more often. Especially if JC was going to do that, oh god, now there was one talented tongue.

But then JC wasn't kissing him anymore, and he opened his eyes and sat back a little. He licked his lips and waited. And it came to him that, um, he was sort of sitting on the piano bench, and JC was sort of kneeling in front of him, and this might, um, actually, be sort of a perfect position for that thing that was supposed to be like the best thing ever to happen to a guy but had never happened to him specifically.

"Justin-"

He saw it, knew, that the same thought had just crossed JC's mind, and JC was about to either grab him or bolt as a result, so he said, "You can if you want." Leaving it up to JC. Not begging for it, even though the very idea was so exciting that he wasn't really in reality anymore.

JC got up.

Oh god, he'd just fucked up their friendship and their career in one sentence.

But JC just locked the door and turned off the lights. So if the security guy came past, the room looked empty with the light off, and the door was locked just in case. Smart guy, JC. It also gave him a little privacy so that JC wouldn't see how totally floored and turned on and scared and absolutely ecstatic he was.

JC kneeled down in front of him again. Kissed him, slow and sweet at first, and it made his whole spine melt and his heart pound and his cock just so incredibly hard, and then JC's kiss turned sort of hungry, greedy, licking his tonsils and sucking his tongue until he was almost coming in his pants. JC was still there kneeling between his feet, between his knees, and now JC was closer, pressing against his body, hands running through his curls and down his back. JC's hands rubbed over his thighs and then he almost screamed when JC's hand came in between his legs right there, right where it really, really counted.

"Let me," JC said, and opened his fly.

What, like he was going to say no? Did JC think that he was insane?

His cock was hard, way hard, and it wanted to come now, but he didn't want to come until he'd had more of JC's long-fingered hand wrapped around it. JC had nice hands, pianist's hands, just perfect for holding his cock.

Okay. There was a dark head in his lap, because his best friend and band member, JC Chasez, was kneeling in front of him and licking his penis. This had to be the best moment in his life. This had to be the best moment in any life this century or the next.

God he wanted to come.

He was making this really weird noise, like whimpering, and his hands were on the back of JC's head, and he was sort of rocking his hips a little, trying to get into that hot wet mouth that was all wrapped around his cock like heaven. This was heaven, this was absolutely heaven, this was the big happy place where he wanted to stay for eternity.

This licking and sucking, this tongue and lips, this mouth like heaven, was making him want to come like he'd never come before. Which made sense, because this was a whole great never before kind of moment in a lot of ways.

So much for being untouchable.

"JC," he said, on this odd gasping sound, and then he moaned, and he tugged on JC's head, "JC, I'm-" and then he rocked his hips once hard and came, doing his best not to scream considering he had no muscles left anywhere in his now-liquid body. His vision came back to him and he found his hands empty, JC tucking him back into his jeans. He blinked a little, wondering if...possibly...well, it had to be. JC must have swallowed. But he didn't dare ask. Instead he just dragged JC back to his mouth and kissed JC, JC who was the best person in his life, JC who was in love with him.

JC's kiss was getting a little desperate here, and he figured that maybe it was time to return the favor and see if he had the balls, so to speak, to swallow too. He broke the kiss and pushed JC back a little, sliding down from the bench onto his knees. "Your turn."

"You can't. You don't."

"I want to."

"Can you..."

"Sure." Anything, right now he'd do anything JC wanted. He kissed JC, who kissed him back, and now he knew that JC's lovely voice wasn't even JC's best asset, because this whole kissing thing had him seriously awed. JC's fingers ran down his back and then up under his shirt, on the skin at the small of his back, stroking him, and he shivered against JC's body, and he could feel JC's hard-on, and he was seriously horny all over again. He still wasn't sure what JC wanted him to do, but he figured that if JC wanted to touch his back he could oblige, so he stopped petting JC's neck long enough to get out of his shirts.

He was pushed back a little, and JC's eyes were on him. Like JC hadn't seen him shirtless a million times already. But JC was just staring. And then JC was touching him, and he really was a slut, because he just pushed himself into JC's touch, rubbed against JC's hands, gasped and moaned with every little caress. JC stroked him all over, even his nipples, and boy did that feel good! He'd lived with those nipples all of his life and he'd never realized that they could make him feel like that. JC's hands held his hips and JC leaned in, leaned down, licked over his right nipple. Light flashed right through him and he fell back on his hands. JC kept going, kept licking right there, and he fell back on his elbows, and then he was lying on the floor and JC was kissing and licking at his other nipple and then JC's mouth was on his collarbone and he arched up to rub his hips against JC's, rubbing against that hardness, wanting it, wanting it, oh god, and JC's mouth was on his, and JC's fingers were on his nipple, and JC's hips were grinding against his, and he kept one hand on the back of JC's neck while his other slid down and rubbed over JC's butt, and he was half-naked getting it on with his best friend.

JC rolled off of him with a gasp.

"What's wrong?" he asked, rolling to his side and propping up on an elbow. "JC?"

"I didn't want pity sex."

"It's not pity sex. You think I'd do that? Get back here and kiss me again or - - you came. When did you come?"

"Just now."

JC had come in his pants. Wow. Over Justin. Wow. Mature talented JC Chasez had come in his pants over cute little Justin Timberlake. Life did not get any better than this.

"You're in love with me?"

"Justin-"

"Just tell me yes or no."

"Yes." JC sat up on the floor.

"Don't run off somewhere." Justin stood and pulled on his T-shirt, leaving the button-down on the floor. "Do you still hate me?"

"No."

"Do you want to be with me?"

"Justin-"

"You know, we could make out and be together and do stuff and...like you want."

"What do you want?" JC asked. "What are you doing?"

"I just want you. And a Grammy would be nice."

"You want me?"

"I didn't tell you!" he realized. He'd gotten sort of preoccupied with the whole hey I get to kiss JC thing, and then the whole hey JC's giving me a blowjob thing, and then...

"You didn't tell me you were bi, what else aren't you telling me?"

"I'm in love with you. The whole thing, real true love, like you want. I'm it. I'm in love with you."

"You're not."

"I am so." He sat down and kissed JC. "I know you think I'm a slut, but it's only for you. For everybody else I'll still be untouchable, but you can touch me wherever you want, whenever you want."

"You really want to do this?"

"What, be with you? Make out with you? Be your...what, boyfriend?"

"I'm twenty-four, not seven, Justin. I won't be happy just coming in my pants."

Earlier JC couldn't say "sex" in front of him, and now JC was saying "coming in my pants" without hesitation. Pretty cool. At least JC wasn't freaked out anymore, not at all. JC was good now, all good, so good. "We can do more. I want you to take your pants off anyway. You can come wherever you want. In my hand. In my mouth, if I learn how to swallow. Even, you know, if you want...in me."

JC stared at him. "You'd let me?" Now that was shock.

"Sure. I trust you."

"I'm sorry. For acting like an asshole ever since you walked in here."

"I'm glad I didn't leave. Because if I'd gone, you wouldn't have said that you love me, and I wouldn't have said that I love you, and I just had like the best sex ever in the history of sex, and now we can go back to my place, or your place, or wherever we want, and do it again."

JC kissed him, all hot and possessive, running one hand along his side and the other in between his thighs again.

"We should tell the guys."

"Tomorrow," JC said.

"Tomorrow," he agreed, and licked JC's jaw. "I can't believe I want you this bad. It should be illegal to be this horny."

"Horny angel," JC murmured, kissing him.

"You know I'm not, right?"

"I know. You're just a guy who's just about perfect. But you're not perfect. So I love you. And I want you to suck me," JC added, sliding a hand under his shirt.

"Take me home first," he suggested, kissing JC.

"I can't believe you thought I'd be with Nick when I spend all of my time with someone who looks like you," JC said, and nibbled on his lower lip.

"I'd do him. I mean, no, I wouldn't, because there's you. But, you know, if there weren't you-"

"And there weren't Brian," JC added, rubbing between his thighs.

"-and there weren't Brian," he agreed, "I'd do him. Nick's cute," he said, and gasped into JC's mouth.

"Brian's cute," JC said.

"I'm cute too," he said, kissing JC.

"Me too." Kiss.

"Wanna fuck me?"

That question earned him one long deep kiss that just about did fuck him all in itself. Then JC let him up for air and said, "We're going home now."

"No pizza?"

"Would you rather eat or get naked in my bed?"

"No pizza."

matthew@matthewtime.com
"I Need You Tonight" Part Two: Need
"I Need You Tonight" page
"Living" series page
RPS page
Sweet Uncleanness