Alla
Copyright December 12, 2000 by Matthew Haldeman-Time
Rating: PG
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.
Dedication: Ewan McGregor; Savage Garden slashers.
Wherein the story's not really long enough to be worth me writing anything here.
Years ago. When Justin was fifteen, curls cropped and extra blond, body still developing. They'd been shooting the video for "Tearin' up My Heart" and Justin had just finished the now-infamous "Justin on a bed pretending to be sexy" footage, and he'd been leaving the dressing room closet just as Justin was about to go in to change, and Justin had kissed him. Kissed him for a second.
Or two.
Or more.
Soft, soft lips.
Then Justin pulled back and stared at him, all wide blue eyes, and Justin had laughed and said, "Shit. Sorry." Like it had been a joke. A mistake. An accident. Sort of "Wow, where did that come from?" and "Boy did I just screw up" and "Oops!"
Justin never mentioned it, later. Not once. Like it had never happened. Maybe it hadn't.
But it occurred to JC, sometimes. Sometimes he remembered. When he looked at Justin and saw this odd new persona of buff rapper, or when he saw the teen idol, or when he saw Brit's boyfriend, he remembered. Remembered soft, soft lips kissing him. Remembered kissing back for a second.
Or two.
Or more.