Copyright January 22, 2002 by Matthew Haldeman-Time

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: JC Chasez/Justin Timberlake

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.

Wherein JC locks his car, enters his apartment, and looks at Justin.

Notice: Mid-"Destiny."

        He'd been locking the car, on his way up to their apartment, when he'd been hit with a vision.  Of him and Justin.  Of him taking Justin on the hood of the car.  The hood still warm under Justin's back, Justin warm under his body.  Thrusting deep into Justin, Justin powerfully beautiful in that vulnerable state.

        It always affected him.  Justin's unconscious ability to be powerful, to rule him, while in the position of vulnerability.  He was more vulnerable to Justin than Justin ever was to him, even then.  Especially then.

        Thinking of that, and of making love to Justin on the hood of his car at night under a dark, starlit sky, JC felt his cock waking, stiffening, on his way to the apartment.  He wanted to make love to Justin.  He wanted to feel Justin, to see Justin, to experience Justin.

        He let himself into the apartment.

        Justin, on the sofa, watching MTV, looked over at him.  "Hey, JC."

        He looked at Justin.  Soft mouth.  Barely tamed curls.

        "Oh, shit."  Justin stood.

        Athletic grace.

        "JC.  You just walked in the door."

        He wanted to smell Justin.  He walked closer.  One part of his brain was cataloguing Justin's outfit, and how best to remove it.

        "JC.  Come on."  Justin backed up a little, looking around the room for a distraction.

        Almost close enough to smell.  Close enough to touch.  Justin's hips were familiar under his hands.

        "You just came home.  Why are you, what, was there a porn flick showing in the hall?  What's going on?"

        He inhaled along Justin's neck.  Smooth skin.  He could smell Justin, and traces of himself.  Justin hadn't showered yet.  The scent of their sex lingered.  He'd made love to Justin last night.  He wanted to do it again.

        Justin's breathing shook.  "JC, you're making me hard," he said, trying to back away.

        A quick hand at the junction of Justin's thighs checked.  Justin's arousal grew at JC's touch.

        Justin stopped short.  JC had backed him into the wall by the TV.

        JC reached around with one hand, turning off the Sprite commercial.  Silence.  Justin's ragged breathing.  JC looked at Justin's mouth.

        "JC.  What happened?  You were ready before you came in here."

        "I was thinking about you."  His eyes on Justin's mouth, his hand stroked up and down Justin's back through the thin T-shirt material.  When his hand reached the small of Justin's back, he pulled Justin's hips forward.  He felt Justin's arousal against his own.

        "Thinking," Justin said.

        "About you," he repeated, and leaned forward, drawn by Justin's soft lips.  So pink...

        Justin succumbed to JC's kiss, helpless.  He gasped and let JC's tongue enter his mouth, fingers tightening their grip on JC's shoulders.

        JC pushed at Justin's sweatpants, getting the waistband to slip a few inches.

        "Thinking," Justin said again, voice quivering as JC stroked his bared skin.

        "About you," JC said.

        "Only you could get this worked up," Justin said, and moaned.  "Just thinking."

        "Thinking about you," JC said, and kissed his neck.