Copyright July 29-August 17, 2000 by Matthew Haldeman-Time

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.

        *NSYNC had been invited to another teeny-bopper party awards show event-type thing.  The Backstreet Boys were there, as were 98 Degrees, Five, Britney, Jessica, Mandy, Christina, etc.  Nick Lachey and Jessica Simpson had broken up, and it looked like Nick had gotten over it pretty quickly, considering how he was spending all of his time with fellow Degree Jeff Timmons, while Nick Lachey's little brother Drew Lachey was spending time with the other Nick, Nick Carter, while Nick Carter's ex-turned-straight-boy Brian Littrell looked, well, jealous.  Britney and Jessica, post-Justin and post-Nick, were looking for some attention, so they both latched onto JC.

        Justin didn't know what to do about that.  JC was his.  If any blonde twit was going to be all over JC, he was going to be that blonde twit.

        "Looks like Miss Spears is trying to get your baby to hit her one more time," AJ McLean told him.  "Sorry, bad joke."

        The BSB-*NSYNC feud was pretty much dying, if slowly.  Sure, they were the top competitors in the popular boy band field, but there were enough screaming girl fans to go around, and they all worked for the same people.  They'd decided to be civil, at least.

        Still, that didn't mean that he needed AJ knowing about him and JC.  How did AJ know?  Well, maybe the same way he knew about Nick and Brian.

        What did one do when one's ex was flirting with one's boyfriend?  Was there some polite way to get her to back off without saying, "Get yourself off of my property?"

        "You got to stand up to it," AJ told him.  "If you stand there looking like a jealous fool, somebody's going to walk away with your baby.  Like them."  AJ nodded towards Drew Lachey and Nick Carter.

        He did not want to watch someone walk off with his boyfriend.  Maybe B-Rok could just let Nick go with somebody else, but he wasn't like that.  Although it might work out well for Nick, since Drew looked pretty much head-over-heels for the young blond.

        Yeah, being young and blond really seemed to work well.  It could work for him, too.  Just not for these pretty little girls, not tonight.

        He wandered over towards Nick and Drew.  "Hey."

        "Hey," they said.  Nick was friendly, and all of the Degrees were really nice guys.  *NSYNC and 98 Degrees got along well.  The BSB were great but tended to act a little...superior.

        "Can I ask you for a favor?" he asked Nick.

        "Sure," Nick said.

        "Can I borrow your song?"

        "My song?" Nick asked.

        Five minutes later, the DJ handed Justin a microphone and Justin stepped onto the DJ's table.  Everyone turned to look.  He grinned down at them as the music started.

        It was a good song.  Nick always tended to be a little overemotive, but it was a good song, and he knew it by heart.  As he started to sing, he got a few comments from the crowd about how *NSYNC obviously did want to be the Junior BSB.  He didn't flip anybody off, though.

        "Open up your heart to me and say what's on your mind.  I know that we have been through so much pain, but I still need you in my life this time."  He raised his fingers to the collar of his shirt.  "And I need you tonight."  One button.  "I need you right now."  Another button; catcalls.  "I know deep within my heart, it doesn't matter if it's wrong or right.  I really need you tonight."  Third button; everyone was laughing and screaming.  "I figured out what to say to you.  Sometimes the words come out so wrong.  And I know in time that you will understand that what we have is so right this time.  And I need you tonight."  One button; whistles.  "I need you right now."  Another button.  "I know deep within my heart it doesn't matter if it's wrong or right."  Final button.  "All those endless times we tried to make it last forevermore.  And baby I know I need you.  I know deep within my heart it doesn't matter if it's wrong or right.  I really need you."  He dropped his shirt.  And just like that, at the cue, JC, who was standing on the floor with everybody else, picked up the back-up vocals, and they were singing it together, and he finished, "...I really need you tonight..."

        Then he held out his hand; not to JC but to Nick, who climbed onto the table with him and sang "Don't Want You Back" just for fun; if they were casting looks at Britney and Brian, well, that was just a coincidence.  They couldn't do five-part harmony together, but they improvised pretty well - - hey, they did this for a living.  It was damned fun, too; he loved being in front of a crowd, loved applause and fun, and doing it half-naked wasn't bad.  JC was loving it, too, he could tell.  Lance and Joey and Chris were hooting it up for him, and JC had the happiest smile.

        "Get down, get down," Jessica was begging them.  "Justin, those aren't even your songs."

        "I'm the sixth Backstreet Boy," he told her.  "The cute one!"

        Nick, the official BSB cute one, pushed him off the table.

        "You're just jealous because you never thought of doing a striptease to that," Britney teased Nick.

        "I don't need to get naked to get cheers," Nick said, stepping down from the table.

        "What's wrong with getting naked onstage?" AJ asked.  "I look good naked!"

        "So does Justin," Mandy said.  "That's not the point."

        Justin did a little shimmy.  "I look good naked!" he told AJ.

        "Kind of skinny," AJ said.

        "You're kind of skinny," Justin said.  "We can't all be Nick Lachey."

        "Quadzilla," Jessica muttered.

        "But he's so pretty," Justin said, grinning.

        "Men aren't pretty," Jessica said.

        "You don't think he's pretty?" Justin asked.  "Don't you think I'm pretty?"

        "You're not a man," Britney said.

        "Ouch," AJ said.

        "Ouch," Nick agreed.

        "JC's a man," Justin said.  "JC's very pretty."

        "Hey, guys, come on," JC said.  "Leave me out of it."

        "JC's very pretty," Justin repeated, wrapping his arm around JC's waist and yanking JC close.

        "Yeah but he's...JC," Jessica said.  "He's an adult who acts like he's twelve sometimes.  Like Brian."

        Hmm.  Brian=JC.  Talented, creative, high-energy, sang lead.  And Justin=Nick: youngest band member, blonde, the designated "cute one," also sang lead.  Well, if JC really turned into Brian and ran off to be with girls instead of staying with him, he'd just...kill JC, for one.

        "Nick Lachey's totally pretty," Justin said.  "Brian's pretty.  JC's just pretty-pretty-pretty.  Aren'tcha?" he asked, giving JC's waist a squeeze.

        "Would you get off him?" Britney asked.

        "What'sa matter, jealous?"

        Justin watched past Jessica's head as Nick Carter and Drew Lachey left together.  Way to go Nick.  And Nick Lachey seemed to be pretty well on his way into Jeff's pants, if physical proximity was any indication.  "Hey, Jessica."

        "What?" she asked him.

        "Quadzilla's got himself a new girlfriend.  Check it out."

        She glanced.  "What are you talking about?"

        "He's just talking to Jeff, you perv," Britney said to Justin.  "JC, you want to dance?"

        "Sure," JC said.

        "Justin, you're going to have to let go of him," Britney said.

        JC leaned in really close and whispered, so soft, against his ear, "It's okay.  I'm going home with you tonight."

        Justin grinned and let go of JC.  "He's all yours, Brit."  For now.  Because, like the man said, JC was going home with him tonight, was going to be in his bed and his mouth and his hands and his body, nowhere near Britney or Jessica.  Score one for the male side of the vapid blondes.  Score two, really, since Nick was off with Drew.

        He hung out with Lance while JC danced with Britney; he hung out with Joey while JC danced with Jessica.  "Are you ever going to put your shirt back on?" Chris asked as they watched JC dance with Britney and Christina.

        "Not yet," he said, as he heard, "Baby, it's the way you beg me, kinda get me go crazy, never wanna stop."  More BSB, and Nick's voice; he took that as a signal that it was time to get up and dance, baby.  He shimmied over and grabbed JC.  Not the Boys' best work, but it was totally danceable, especially with one's totally wicked-fun boyfriend.  They were dancing way too close and way too physical and way too sexual; they were practically ready to star in Dirty Dancing without as much as an audition.  The song was over too soon, but the DJ played it again, so they kept going.  When the song ended the second time, he grabbed JC's shirtfront and ripped it right open, spilling at least one button.

        Gasps, whistles, catcalls.

        JC looked at him, stunned but not mad.

        He pulled the shirt off of JC without bothering to unbutton the cuffs and wrapped it around his own waist.  Now JC was in a slinky-tight skinny tank-style white ribbed undershirt.  So sexy.  Almost better than being naked.  He grinned and strolled away to get some of those little sandwich things from the table.

        "What was that?" AJ asked him, coming to stand by him as he poked through the food table.  "What do you call that dance, the bitchslap bump-and-grind?"

        "You're just jealous because I'm so sexy," Justin said.

        "You ever sing or dance to your own music, Timberlake?"

        "That's my job.  Sometimes it's cool to do something that's not my job."

        "I didn't see you dancing to Miss Spears' music."

        "'Hit Me Baby One More Time.'  What is that, some twisted abusive relationship?  That's sick."

        "I know.  I kept hoping that she was making an ironic commentary on domestic violence, but it turns out she's just an offensive clueless twit."

        "What's JC doing?"

        "You can see it for yourself."

        Justin peeked over AJ's shoulder.  "If she presses any closer to him, she'll be behind him."

        "Shouldn't have undressed him.  Now she can admire his nice body with her eyes and her hands."

        "Shit."

        "It is a nice body."

        "Tell me about it.  Where'd Nick and Jeff go?"

        "They snuck out during your dance routine."

        Good.  Good for them.  He wished them well.  Now, if only he could get JC home and in bed...

        The party ended, and Justin got Joey to distract some of the girls while Lance distracted the others, and he got JC outside and into the car.  They went to JC's bed, and JC kissed him.  He twisted beneath JC a little, getting undressed.

        "I wanted you all night," JC said.  "I saw you on that table and I wanted to take you on it."

        "You should have."

        JC laughed against his neck.  "I don't think so."

        "You can take me now."  He looked into JC's eyes and grinned.  "I need you tonight."

        JC laughed.  "I want it that way."

        "Bye bye bye bye bye Britney.  Hello JC," Justin murmured, unzipping JC's pants.  "Larger than life."

        Then they were laughing and kissing, and that was what made it so great, that was why he'd stuck through that ridiculous and confusing angst-fest with JC in the studio that first night, because it was JC, because they were best friends, because they were good together and had fun together.  They could be silly when they wanted, and serious whenever they wanted, and just hang out and smile.  JC had a great smile.

        And the sex, the sex was great, the sex blew his mind, shorted out his every last brain cell, exploded his brain stem.  JC must have learned how to kiss in some doctorate program when he hadn't been looking.  And those hands, those hands played his body better than they played a piano.  And as for tight bodies, JC's was perfect.

        Being young and athletic, being used to working out and dancing, gave them grace and flexibility; and boy did that come in handy.  He could wrap all around JC's body; he could put his legs up over JC's shoulders as easily as he could breathe.  And it felt good, it felt so good.

        He wasn't sure what it was, whether it was their close friendship or being in love or being together all of the time, but he had a constant need for JC.  Sometimes it was just an itch, something that he could live with and even fostered because it always felt great when he finally got to stratch it.  Sometimes it was a real craving; he just had to have JC now or go insane with it.  It wasn't just plain old-fashioned healthy lust, not quite.  It was more like a need.  He needed JC, needed that smile and energy and talent, needed that voice and that support, needed that body so slender and masculine against his.

        So he'd grab JC when he could.  He didn't want to get all hung up on JC and forget about the others, so they spent non-working hours with Chris and Lance and Joey.  But he made sure that he got alone time with JC, too.  He tried to spend every night with JC.  He really liked sleeping with JC, all warm and close together, resting against JC's hard silky body, the two of them tangled together.

        One night JC had asked him for something.  He was happy to oblige, so while JC laid back, he did a quick lube job and then climbed on top of JC, rode JC until his eyes rolled back in his head, rode JC and jerked himself off as he did it, and JC just laid there, watching, coming inside his body, staring at him.  JC liked to watch, liked to look at him.  Probably that was some leftover from when JC had been sort of in love and obsessed and thinking they didn't have a chance.

        But they did have a chance.  They were taking their chance.  It was more than a chance.  This was it.  They were it.

        *NSYNC had been the best thing ever to happen to him.

        Not anymore.  Now, JC Chasez was the best thing ever to happen to him, the best thing that kept happening to him, every day.  Every night.

        He was, to be honest, sort of squirming against JC now.  JC stopped kissing him and he sucked in air, wrapping himself around JC and rolling them over so that he was on top now.  "Are you going to do it?"

        "Do what?" JC asked him, all friendly innocence, running a thumb over the lines on his brow.

        "Fuck me."

        "I was trying before you interrupted."

        "You weren't going fast enough."

        "If you don't like the way I do it...you do it."

        He swallowed.  He loved to be inside JC for about 57 reasons at least, but it wasn't something that happened often.  They'd only been together for twelve days, for one, and usually either they gave each other blowjobs or JC fucked him.  He'd only fucked JC twice.  He wasn't sure that it was his best work, and he really truly and seriously wanted to do it again, maybe three times a day, but he was nervous, still.  He didn't want to do it wrong, or disappoint JC, or hurt JC.  And it was sort of intimidating to be allowed to go into someone else's body.  It was an important matter.  Besides, it was really exciting and it totally turned him on and he wanted to do it all of the time but he wasn't good at it.  He liked to do things that he was good at, and he was good at pretty much everything, but just as they never went onstage without having their performance down just right, he didn't want to try to make love to JC without knowing that he had his performance down just right.

        He knew that some guys only liked to be fucked and didn't want it both ways, but he did.  He wanted to make love to JC and fuck JC and thrust into that tight hot-

        "Justin?"

        "Sorry.  Kind of zoned."

        "If you don't want to-"

        "I do."  His heart was pumping want/need/love and his cock was screaming "Oh yes!" and his hands were all ready to open JC's body to prepare the way for the rest of him.  But his mind kept stalling on the very concept of hey let's fuck JC.  JC was...older and smarter and talented and handsome and really good at this whole sex thing.  JC kissed like a professional and did everything else even better.

        When JC kissed him he felt like...okay, yeah, all horny and turned on and let's get it on, but also sort of like he could just lie there and let JC kiss him forever and he'd just let JC own his mouth.  He got all boneless and pliant, he got all swoony and melted, he got sort of...girly.

        "Do you think I'm girly?"

        JC gave him a puzzled smile.  "No.  I'm gay.  If you were girly I wouldn't want you."

        "Right."  Okay, well, that worked.  Score one for Justin's masculinity.

        "What's wrong?" JC asked.  "Do you want to fuck me or is something else wrong?  Do you want to have sex first or talk first?"

        "Sex first, sex now, talk later."

        "Who's sexing whom?"

        "I'd give you points for the who-whom thing but sexing isn't a word, so you don't get the grammar prize."

        Of course, there was that Color Me Badd song "I Wanna Sex You Up," but sex wasn't a verb regardless, and besides, "I Wanna Fuck You Up" would have meant something totally different, not to mention it would have been really hard to play on the radio.  The big swearing songs didn't get a whole lot of airplay.

        "What do you keep thinking about?" JC asked.

        "Melting chicks and Color Me Badd."

        "Melting chicks?" JC repeated.  "Is that a new band or are you talking about those marshmallow Easter chicks?"

        Justin laughed.  "Do other people talk like this in bed?"

        "I really don't think that many people talk about Color Me Badd anymore at all," JC said.  "But marshmallow, sure, people use food in bed all of the time."

        "Are you talking about the people who pour chocolate over each other and lick it off?  Or are you talking about people who eat chips while they're in bed watching TV?"

        "The first one."

        "You're not, like, going to do that, are you?  It sounds really messy."

        JC's lips pressed to his shoulder before JC's tongue ran along his collarbone.  "You taste good without a chocolate coating."

        "You think I taste good?"

        "Delicious."  JC nuzzled at his neck and kissed up towards his chin.

        "You too," he confessed before JC's mouth met his.  He was on top now, and when he melted he just sort of sank and spread all over JC.  JC rolled them over and he was on his back underneath JC again, hands loose on JC's hard biceps, one leg falling off the side of the bed, his other leg between JC's.  JC's erection was pressing into his hip; he shifted a little and it locked into place, pressing against him right where it should.  He lifted his legs, bending his knees, rolling his hips just so, until he was all open in invitation with JC lying between his thighs kissing his mouth.

        "Justin."

        "What?" he asked.  Hey, his mouth still worked.  Would wonders never cease.

        "That striptease was awesome."

        He grinned when JC looked up to meet his eyes.  "Pretty cool, hunh?"

        "Yeah."  JC gave him a little kiss.  "Do that onstage and our security's going to be worthless."

        "It was fun.  I knew you'd like it."

        "Did you do it for me or for you or for Britney?"

        "I did it for me."  He stroked in between JC's shoulder blades.  "Because I liked seeing you watch me.  Because I knew it'd turn you on.  Because I like to turn you on, I wanted to see you want me, I wanted you to get hot so you'd want me, so you'd bring me back here and fuck me, because I needed...I needed..."  His voice broke as JC's mouth settled on an aching nipple.

        And he knew, he trusted, that JC would give him what he needed.

        Under his hands he felt JC move; he opened his eyes in time to see JC reaching over to the nightstand.  He knew what that meant.  JC unscrewed the cap one-handed and Justin closed his eyes, trying to breathe evenly, trying not to lose control.  JC would give him what he needed.  JC would take care of him.  He could be a super-horny super-slut and JC would give him, so well, so hot, so good, exactly what he needed, everything he wanted, because JC was one smart talented sexy guy, and-

        -oh, right, okay, here it came.  He rested his calf on JC's shoulder and relaxed into the mattress, staying very quiet and very calm.  He'd gotten over his squeamishness about JC touching him there and looking at him there once he'd figured out how really really really good it could make him feel.  He knew, in some vague corner of his mind, that guys licked each other there, too.  He didn't doubt that JC would try to do that, too, someday; and he didn't doubt that he'd just lie back and let it happen the first time, and every time after that beg for it.

        Here it came.  One long slender finger pressing inside him, slow and deep.  JC had nice long fingers.  Talented fingers.  Fingers that knew each nerve ending in his body and exploited every last one.  Fingers that touched him just right, right there, and his back was arching and his blood was humming and his cock was all ready to go.

        JC's fingers were finished now.  He'd mourn that, if he didn't know what came next.

        JC settled his other leg over JC's shoulder, too, and tilted his hips a little.  There was a well-placed pause while JC lined everything up, and then there it was, full and hard and hot, entering his body on one slow, smooth push.  Then JC was planted deep inside of him, and there was another pause, another of the kind that made his gut clench with need.

        JC was on him, in him, moving from thrust to thrust, sending off those miniature fireworks every time, one hand on his hip, the other hand on the mattress.  Sometimes JC got really close and rested on him and kissed his neck; sometimes JC stayed back just enough to watch him.  Sometimes he liked the closeness and feeling of intimacy; sometimes he liked to watch, too.  But he couldn't open his eyes; he was too busy enjoying the sensations he already had.

        JC started to thrust harder, got into a pounding rhythm.  This was good.  This was it.  Less of the erotic sweetness, more of the need and fucking.  He liked erotic sweetness; it was one of JC's strengths.  But sometimes he just needed to be fucked, and JC did that really well, too.

        This was a steady fucking with a merciless pace.  Hard and fast, but at a tempo that JC could sustain.  Which meant that he was going to get fucked until his brains melted and JC would keep going.  As hot and horny as JC got over him, JC did have good stamina.  Just another plus.

        He moaned and gasped, tried to open his eyes but couldn't manage the task.  Here it was, the final crescendo, and he could feel it in every bare inch of his body.

        "Not yet," JC said.

        Oh, but he wanted to, he wanted it, that rush of release, that glorious end.

        JC fucked him just a little faster.  His hips rocked in counterpoint to JC's, his breath coming light and fast, his balls begging to be purged.  Yes, yes, fuck, faster, harder, faster, harder, oh god, oh god, oh-oh...oh-oh-god...  He came, hard and fast, jetting it over himself.  JC kept going, fucking his shuddering body.

        JC came, inside of him, filling him, flooding him.  He opened his eyes to see JC kneeling there, shivering slightly, braced on two hands, head down, eyelids at half-mast.  He raised one shaking hand and pet the top of JC's head.  He stroked down the back of JC's neck and slid his hand around to tip up JC's chin.  JC leaned in closer and kissed his mouth.  Then they were pressed together and rolling over and kissing kissing kissing.

        After an orgasm he usually got sort of tired, but it was that post-show tired, the one where his body was tired but he was still running high on the excitement and he wanted to keep going for just one more song, or, in this case, just one more orgasm.  He couldn't drop off to sleep, not when the smooth glide of JC's flesh against his own was stimulating.  He slid his palms down JC's back and up JC's chest, ducked down and licked over JC's nipple.

        "So...pretty..."

        That was JC's voice, thick with desire and wonder, post-sex JC, more willing to say something honest like that.  Maybe nineteen-year-old guys weren't supposed to be pretty; he'd rather be known as handsome or manly or studly or something all masculine and testosterone-pumped, but JC thought that he was pretty, and JC was sort of in awe of it, in a good way.  JC loved him, wanted him.  So if JC thought that he was pretty, he was going to do his best to keep JC thinking it as long as it made JC happy.

        Besides, he'd already had an argument over males being pretty earlier that night, and he'd pretty much won.  The argument itself hadn't come to a dramatic conclusion, but he had JC in bed, so he'd won.  Hands down.

        He slid up again to kiss JC's mouth.  He was just a horny little slut, maybe, wanting JC like this, needing JC like this, even though it wasn't all about sex, he needed JC all of the time for everything.  But sex, yeah, sex was a big part of it, this weird deep craving to have JC against him and in him and around him, to touch and to taste and to know.

        And he did know.  Knew what JC tasted like, all over; knew what JC smelled like; knew what JC felt like against his hands, skin and hair and bone and muscle, soft and hard and flexible and strong; knew what JC felt like inside of him; knew what it felt like inside of JC.  He'd heard JC gasp and seen JC shudder and listened to JC moan and felt JC fall asleep in his arms against his body, JC's nose pressed into the curve of his neck, JC all warm and intimate and masculine and vulnerable and, for once, quiet and still.

        "JC."

        JC made a little questioning noise against his jaw right behind his earlobe, one hand petting down his arm, the other hand in his thick curls.  JC was sort of kissing and licking there, tongue flicking warm and wet against his earlobe.

        "Will you let me...make love to you?"

        "Now?"

        "If you're not busy."

        "Okay."  JC rolled them over from their sides until JC was underneath him.  Then JC was looking up at him, smiling, waiting.

        Right.  No pressure.  It was just JC.  And he'd done it before, done it twice before, in this bed with this person.  What could go wrong?  It wasn't like he could stick it in the wrong place or anything.  And it wasn't like, after all, JC would stop loving him if he did it wrong.

        Oh, shouldn't have had that thought.

        He could focus on the good.  There was a lot of good there.  JC, naked, waiting, waiting for him, knowing what he was planning, wanting what he was planning.

        He kissed JC, going with the familiar, letting his every last worry disappear in the face of JC's kiss.  He was getting sort of hungry and greedy here, all eager, wanting to fuck JC, wanting to shove himself into that tight hot tight place.  His list of the top four places to get off were: humping against JC's body, in JC's hand, in JC's mouth, and in JC period.  Maybe he should have worried that his orgasms and fantasies all centered around the same person.  After all, shouldn't he want JC and other people?  Say, JC, Britney, and Nick, or something.

        Hmm.  Which Nick?  Hell, why not both?  Together?

        "What?" JC asked.

        He grinned.  "You wanna do a foursome with Nick and Nick?"

        "Carter and Lachey?"

        "Yeah."

        JC smiled.  "Maybe tomorrow."

        Although, right there, he'd made it a foursome, automatically including JC, like it just couldn't be sex, couldn't be good sex, without JC.  As far as that went, maybe it couldn't.  It wasn't a stretch to believe that, now that he'd experienced JC, anything else would pale in comparison.

        He wrapped his hand around JC's erection, stroking slowly.  JC moaned some at that and pressed towards him, hips rolling from the bed and towards his hand smoothly.  His free hand reached over for the lubricant.  Yee-hah.  Time to get going, boys.  The fun starts here.

        He let go of JC's erection and uncapped the tube.  That done, he took JC's right ankle in his hands and hoisted it over his shoulder.  JC's legs spread nicely for him.  How considerate.  He kissed JC and found the lubricant again, carefully squirting a little onto one finger.  He shifted back so that he could see what he was doing.  He felt back behind JC's balls and across the little space that Chris knew the name of but he always forgot, and there it was, the promised land.  He was bi, he liked girls, he really did, but he thought that straight guys might feel about girls' pussies like he felt about JC's ass.  Or maybe not just any girls', maybe only Pamela Anderson's or whoever the hot lusted-over dream woman of the month was.  Like it was the perfect place, the one true source of all of his happiness, something to be strived for without fail, something to fantasize about and pine for and just plain flat-out want.

        One finger was in now.  It was hot in here, and really tight.  Did he feel this tight to JC?  He pushed and twisted, trying to open JC, wanting it to feel good.  From the looks of things, it felt pretty good already.  JC was running a restless, greedy hand up and down his arm, watching him, thighs spreading further for him.  He eased his finger out carefully and went back in with two now.  JC moaned and lifted in response, which made his own cock just jump, all ready to go.  His free hand patted JC's ribcage soothingly.  He couldn't resist; no matter how horny and needy he got, he always wanted to take care of his baby.

        His baby.  Hmm.

        He'd have to ask about that later.  He didn't know if twenty-four-year-old men would like to be the baby of blonde teenaged boys.  Probably not, as a rule.  But JC wasn't just any guy.  JC was pretty damned cool.  And pretty damned in love with him.  So it might be okay.

        He worked in a third finger.  It was really tight in there now.  JC was doing that soft mindless moaning thing, almost saying his name but not quite managing to pronounce it right due to lack of any motor control whatsoever.  Boy did he knew how that felt.  JC's body was pressing against his fingers all eager and happy.  He pulled his hands away finally, reluctantly.  He liked to touch JC, and touching JC there always got a very nice reaction.  But it was time, so to speak, to bring out the big guns now.

        He got himself into position, and JC's other leg rose to balance on his shoulder, and then he was surging forward into that tight hot slick grip.  JC's head went back, mouth opening, eyes closing, and it looked like when JC was going for a high note.  JC's body was lifting towards his, and JC's body was clenching around his, and JC's hands were reaching for his.  He meshed their hands, palm to palm, fingers twined, and pinned them on either side of the pillow, JC's elbows bent.  JC's eyes opened; JC was panting, which made him even hotter, to know that he'd totally wrecked JC's cool.

        "You okay?"

        "Yes.  More please," JC panted.

        He'd bet the 98 Degrees guys had manners in bed, too.

        Okay, he had JC under his body and on his cock and he was thinking about somebody else?  Anybody else?  What was he, nuts?

        He moved in JC, just rocking a little to get them both used to the idea.  He pushed a little deeper and JC, Joshua Scott Chasez, squeaked.  Which meant two things: he'd just hit JC's prostate, and he was going to be teasing JC for weeks.

        He moved more, then, thrusting in and out, giving it a smooth pumping ride, making sure he angled just right against JC.  He wanted JC to feel those happy fireworks on every stroke.  It felt like nothing else, to be inside of JC.  Inside.  The very idea was mind-boggling.  And the feeling, the pure physical sensation, was so good it was indescribable.  Hot-tight-slick-tight-hot-tight didn't begin to describe it.  He could feel JC around him, alive, moving, sharing the experience.  It was unique, to be with another male, because he'd been right where JC was, and JC had been right where he was.  He knew what JC was feeling right now, and JC knew what he was feeling.  As well as anyone could, at least.

        Not that JC was doing anything to hide those feelings.  Not that he could do anything to hide what he was feeling, even if he'd wanted to, but...

        God, what was he doing, trying to think at the same time he was doing this?  No thinking.  Just go with it.  Just feel it.  Feel JC.  Watch JC.  Taste JC.

        JC licked his lips for him.  "Justin..."

        "What?"

        "I..."  JC gasped.  "I..."

        "It's okay," he said, not really sounding as even as he might have liked, but how could he exert any control over his voice when he was fucking JC and JC was confessing to an impending orgasm?  JC was about to come.  He was making JC come.  JC.  Oh god...

        He came.  It was too soon, he hadn't had enough, but he couldn't help it, couldn't stop it, everything was too much and too good all at once.

        He blinked, forcing his eyes open again.  Wow.  "Wow."

        JC laughed and kissed his chin.  "Go brush your teeth."

        Right.  Didn't want any cavities.  No dental work to ruin his cute smile.  But to brush his teeth he had to be in the bathroom, and to be in the bathroom meant leaving the bedroom, which meant leaving the bed, which meant leaving JC, and he didn't want to get up and move, he was very comfortable right where he was.

        "I'll go first," JC suggested.

        "No, I'm going," he said, and carefully moved away from JC.  Their bodies separated with that weird pop and he stood.  He wandered sort of dazedly to the bathroom, half of his body still in the rhythm of the previous moment, his mind decimated by the force of his orgasm.  He brushed his teeth and peed and cleaned up some.  Yeah, sex was messy, and guy-guy sex was probably the messiest of all.  So, washed and minty fresh, he went back to the bed.  JC was propped against the headboard, watching, giving him a grin.

        "You'd better not be laughing at what you see," he said.

        "Never," JC promised with a smile, tugging him closer and kissing him.  Then he was on his knees, straddling JC's and kissing JC's mouth and sitting on JC's thighs, pressed all close, in JC's lap, groin to groin again.  It kind of ruined the cleaning he'd just done, but it was worth it, oh yeah, it was worth it...

        "Justin," JC protested, laughing, pushing his shoulders.

        "One more," he said, sliding his tongue between those parted lips.  JC made a pleasantly surprised sound and sucked on his tongue.  Yeah, this was good, this was so good, all good, nothing better.  JC's left hand was running up and down his spine.  He kept moving against JC's touch, into JC's touch, the arch of his spine trying to follow that hand.  JC's caress left tingles in its wake.  Actually, he was sort of tingling all over, now.  Especially down in his balls, in his erection.  He thrust slightly against JC's erection and swallowed JC's moan.

        "JC," he managed to say against JC's mouth.  "JC."

        "What?" JC asked, and JC's hands were on his hip and shoulder, and suddenly the room was spinning and then he was on his back under JC again.  Right where he belonged.

        "JC, suck me," he whispered.

        JC didn't bother to say anything, just slid down from his lips to his neck, no teeth, just soft suction and a gentle tongue and loving kisses.  He liked to give JC a little teeth sometimes, but JC sometimes, sort of...treated him like a fragile sort of creature, like something that had to be handled with care.  Of course, on the basketball court all bets were off, but in bed, under JC's hands, he was cherished and treated with love and desire.

        JC's mouth was on his nipple now.  Oh, god, yes, that felt so...good...aahhh...  His body arched helplessly as his lips parted to let a sound of pleasure escape from his throat.  JC made a little quieting noise against his skin and pet his ribcage soothingly while lapping over his other nipple now.  Felt so good it hurt.  His cock was burning, throbbing.  He'd already come twice; wasn't that supposed to take the edge off so they could slow down and make it last?  But no, he was ready now, he wanted to come now.  JC slowly, not wanting to miss an inch, kissed down to his six-pack, licked at his navel.  "J...C..." he begged, softly, desperately, hips lifting from the mattress, legs spreading on either side of JC's body.  JC licked the crease of his thigh.  "JC."  His balls were in the soft wet cavern of JC's mouth now.  Oh that wasn't fair.  JC licked slowly up his cock, avoided the head, came down again.  Mean.  Cruel.  Bad evil nasty JC.  JC's tongue was lapping up a little bit of pre-cum that had drooled down the side.  JC's tongue followed the trail, finally, up again, passing just under the head.  He whimpered as his hips jerked in response.

        "Easy, baby," JC said softly.  JC's breath made his cock jump while the words registered in his brain.  Soothing words to gentle him, yes, but he was JC's baby.  God yes.  He lifted his hips again in invitation.  JC's lips parted over the head.  He moaned wordlessly at the perfection.  It was balm on his burn.  JC's tongue flickered over the head, and his entire body spasmed as JC tried to lick up his pre-cum.  That was gas on his fire.

        It was time, absolutely time, to come.  It was time to get mean evil nasty perfect sweet god yes JC to let him come.  The moaning was now officially choked whimpering as he tried to get JC to let him thrust.  But JC was holding his hips flat to the mattress and moving on him too gently and slowly to let him get anywhere, orgasm-wise.  "JC," he begged.  "J..."  He needed to come, he needed release, he needed JC's mouth, he needed please, please, oh, god...please...

        And JC was on him, fast, and he was down snug in that velvet throat, and JC's tongue was all over him, and JC's lips and throat were working, and his entire body was off the mattress, off the planet, in billions of tiny pieces, and lights were flashing and there was this screaming and roaring and then all of the billions of pieces of him were twitching as they tried to settle into his skin once more.

        JC kissed his cock and slid up against his body.  "Better?"

        He tried to breathe, he really did.

        JC kissed his cheek and left the bed.  He almost moaned but couldn't quite manage it.  His mind drifted along lazily, in a sort of a haze, and then JC was back beside him, against him, cuddling against his side.  He tilted his eyes and saw that JC's eyes were closed.

        "JC?"  Something had just occurred to him.  Selfish selfish Justin.

        "What?"

        "Don't you..."

        "Took care of it."

        Damn.  "I-"

        "Not in the bathroom.  While I was taking care of you my body took care of itself."

        Which meant that JC had come sucking him off.  Which was great.  "Sorry."

        "I'm not."  JC's blue eyes opened and JC kissed his jaw.  "Go to sleep."

        He rolled to his side, facing JC, aligning their bodies.  "So good to me," he said, sliding a hand down JC's silky back, feeling the crush of pubic hair against his thigh.  "JC always takes care of me."

        "You're babbling."

        "I'm so pretty."

        "Yes you are.  Go to sleep."

        "Be your baby...any day..."  He yawned, suddenly and completely exhausted.  He felt JC kiss the top of his head and then he was asleep in JC's arms, right where he'd wanted to be, needed to be, all day.