Alla
Copyright June 18, 2001 by Matthew Haldeman-Time
Rating: NC-17 for graphic male-male sex
Pairing: SQUICK!
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: This slashfic is for Ewan McGregor and the Savage Garden slashwriters. It's also for Joey Fatone. Seriously. The man has my respect and my love.
Wherein squick; what?; maniacal laughter.
Notice: Now I'm scared. The title comes from my Bible's version of Luke 22:58.
The door opened. "Hey. JC."
This was too much. "Hey. What are you doing here?" he asked, entering. No Joey. None of Joey's stuff.
"Joey got sick of staring at the walls, so he asked if we could switch rooms."
"This is your room now?"
"Yeah."
This was too much. "I can't believe all day, and now this. You're just taking over now?"
"JC-"
"You're trying to be Joey?"
"J-"
"You think you can be Joey?"
"JC, no. I-"
"You're the stand-in, we're grateful because we have to be. Nobody replaces Joey."
"I know that."
"You saved our butts, we appreciate it. But there are five people in *NSYNC, and not one of them is you."
"I know that. What the-"
"And now you're here in Joey's room."
"He asked me."
"Do you know what Joey is to me?"
"God, JC, yes. I-"
"Do you know what he does for me?"
"Yes." He wasn't sure where to look.
"You think you can replace him? He's hurt, you take his place. How far are you willing to go?"
"JC." He backed up a step.
"You want to play *NSYNC, you want to be Joey?"
He licked his lips and tried not to say anything.
"It's different now. Can't pretend anymore. You wash your face, you put on your own clothes, you can't even fake it. Joey's a man, he loves me, he takes care of me. You're a scared little boy pretending to know the game. You want to play?"
He hesitated.
"You want to be Joey today, you have to be Joey. You know this game?"
No.
"No," JC answered for him.
He was willing to learn.
He'd imagined.
JC pulled away and finished stripping, then helped him up and kissed him, kissed his mouth, JC was kissing him. Fast, dizzying tongue. His balls hurt. JC was naked, and he touched JC's naked body, ran his hands all over it, slender back, tight ass, slim hips.
He was on his back in his bed, Joey's bed, somebody's bed. JC was groping him and taking off his clothes and oh, god, oh...god...
"Joey does me on my back because I'm pretty and flexible," JC said, and licked his neck. He heard himself moan, felt his hips grinding up against JC's. "He likes to look at me. Do you want me on my back, too?"
"Yes," god, yes.
Never this good.
And even after JC had come in his mouth, and come in his hand, and he'd come inside JC's body, a trespasser... Even then, he put his finger into JC and popped JC's pleasure and it was incredible, JC was beautiful, wanting more and moaning in ecstasy and almost in pain because it felt too good, but he couldn't stop, and JC didn't make him stop.
This was his fantasy, part of it, and it was forbidden.
He was hard again, and he went inside JC, and he came inside JC.
JC came a third time.