Becky
Copyright March 27, 2001 by Matthew Haldeman-Time
Rating: NC-17
Pairing (so to speak): Nick Carter/JC Chasez/Brian Littrell/Justin Timberlake
Disclaimer: The young men who comprise the Backstreet Boys and *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 slashers.
Wherein they drink milk, they melt, and they throw pillows.
Notice: This story follows "Wannabe" and "Slack."
Mrng.
Nnn...
Justin turned his head aside, away from the light, into this nice warm thing. Warm. Good. Stay.
It moved.
Nnn, stay.
It pushed. It - - ow! Justin wrapped a hand around Little JuJu.
Warm left him.
Oh... Disappointed, Justin rolled over in search of another warm. There weren't any more. He dragged the covers over his head and cupped his penis and went back to sleep.
...
Mrng?
Nnn...
Justin pushed himself up a little, reluctant and protesting. Was it worth it? No. Yes. Maybe. Probably not. He did it anyway, somehow managing to escape the bed. He shuffled across the floor.
Soft. ? Shirt. Nnn. Kay.
Shuffle.
Soft. ? Pants. Nnn. Kay.
Shuffle.
Bathroom.
Bright! Ow! No!
Better.
Pee. Morning, Little JuJu. Flush. Loud.
Shuffle.
Kitchen. This way.
Nnn. What?
...
Food. Which?
...
Yeah, food...
Hhh...
?
Kay.
Milk. Milk was good for him. Glass. Glass...here. Pour. Drink. Cold. Awake now. Kay. Food?
Oh. Brian. Brian kissed him and tasted like toothpaste and felt him up and said good-bye.
"Bye."
He rubbed his eyes and looked around some. Brian was gone. No JC. Carter was here.
Oh, right. Carter had fucked him last night.
Oops.
He thought about that for a minute.
Then Carter threw something at him and told him to stop staring.
Now, what the hell? He picked it up and threw it back.
Carter was coming this way. Shit. Wake up, wake up, wake up - - damn - - ouch! Ouch, stupid, shit, dumb ox, ouch! Just one second and there! Take that! Stupid idiot fat-assed brainless aha, don't like that one, do you? Ow, okay, that hurt. And, no, no, no no no, not now, don't, oh god, oh god, oh, yes, "Carter, god." Damn, that felt good.
Little JuJu started getting friendly in Carter's hand. Justin had to find some way to keep Carter from getting in his pants all of the time. This was becoming a habit. But it felt good, it was, oh, god, "Carter..." He winced and felt his hips buck, happy at the attention.
"I didn't...Justin?"
Shit!
Justin scrambled to his feet, dragging his sweatpants - - somebody's sweatpants - - up over his ass, trying to look like he'd just tripped and fallen. Carter had been helping him up, that was all. Oh, um, right. Helping him up. Good one there, Justin.
"JC." That came out too guilty and breathless. Try again. "JC. I didn't know you were...uh...good morning." Manners.
"Good morning," JC said. He looked really, really amused.
Great. Justin was glad JC was getting a kick out of this.
"You're supposed to be gone for another hour," Carter said.
"Welcome home, JC," JC said to himself. "I'll go upstairs and let you two finish your breakfast." JC gave him a kiss and squeezed his hard-on and went upstairs.
Carter went back to the table.
Well, damn. Now he wanted some. Maybe Brian would come home. No, not for hours. And JC, you had to know when to ask for it and when to wait for JC to offer. This was a waiting time. That left Carter. No way was he asking Carter to get him off.
He wanted Brian. Brian was good. Brian always made him come. Brian never left him hanging like this. "Where'd Brian go?"
"Kevin."
Great. No way was he going over there to ask for sex. Now what?
Maybe he could go upstairs and ask JC.
No. He shouldn't squander the talent like that.
That left Carter. Still.
He could wait.
See? He wasn't that hard anymore.
"You weren't bad last night."
"You were." Shit. Think first, speak second.
Carter was pissed off.
"You can't kill me. JC's upstairs."
"He won't miss you."
"He wouldn't miss you," Justin corrected. He stood his ground as Carter came closer.
"Like fuck he wouldn't."
"JC likes me best."
"If he likes you so much, what's he doing getting me and Brian?"
"He likes Brian. He doesn't want you, you're just a leech who came along for the ride. And you don't give that good of a ride."
"How would you know? You don't have the balls to try me."
"I don't want to stick it in your nasty place."
"JC does."
"JC and everybody else you meet."
"You're the one spreading it for anyone-"
"That's shit and you know it!"
"Ooohh, listen to the big boy using big boy words."
If he hit Carter, JC would hear it and come down. He was not letting Carter get him in trouble. "At least my vocabulary isn't limited to grunts."
"All you know how to do is beg for it."
"You don't even have to ask. Everybody knows you're for sale." Hey! If Carter hit him first, he was going to fight back, JC home or not. He heard feet running down the stairs and a thud as JC jumped the railing for the last few. His head smacked into the wall and he landed a good one right in Carter's gut. Then JC was pulling him back and pushing Carter away and pissed off. Damn. Way to go, Carter.
"Nick, finish eating," JC said. "Justin, go get dressed and then come up and see me." JC was tense and pissed off and going upstairs again.
Justin exchanged a few venomous glares with Carter before heading off to the bedroom.
JC was mad. The children had been fighting again. What did he expect? That they were going to get along for the sake of Brian and JC's love? Justin scowled and slammed the dresser drawer. Getting along with Carter was not an option. Never had been, never would be.
The guy was self-absorbed, self-pitying, and hideously overrated.
No ifs, ands, or big fat Carter butts about it.
What did JC and Brian see in him? What was the big appeal? They should ditch the deadweight.
Shower, shave, brush teeth, dress. Time to face the musician.
Carter was in the bedroom doorway. He was sulking. It made Little JuJu twitch.
"Excuse me."
Carter didn't budge. He looked at Justin with sulking eyes. "You're going to go up there and tell him I started it."
"You did. You always do."
"You make me."
"That's mature. Way to take responsibility for your own actions."
"You could take some responsibility for yours."
"I do. Let me go, JC's waiting."
"Let him wait."
"Why? So we can finish this thrilling conversation?"
"Why are you here?"
"What?"
"Why are you here? They don't need you. I don't want you. You're putting your career in jeopardy, you're alienating your family, and for what?"
"For Brian and JC." Duh.
"They don't need you."
"They don't need you," he corrected, and pushed Nick out of his way, and went to see JC.
On his way up the stairs, Justin practiced pouting. There, that was a good one. He knocked on the doorframe and walked into JC's room.
JC sighed and walked over to him.
"I'm sorry, Daddy, I'll be good," he promised, giving JC the puppy eyes.
JC had to smile and laugh. "Justin, it's not like that."
"It is," Justin said, and sat on the sofa. JC sat with him, and he pulled up his feet. "This isn't working, JC."
"It will," JC said.
"Why does it have to? We don't need him here. Nobody wants him here. I don't want him here." He sounded like a petulant child. But he meant it! Why did they want Carter sitting around the house?
"We do need him here," JC said. "We do want him here."
"Why?" Justin asked, scowling.
JC lifted his chin and gave him the serious-sweet JC eyes. "You know why."
Yeah, yeah, yeah. JC loved Nick, Brian loved Nick, yadda yadda yadda. Damn. Nick's funny, Nick's cute, Nick's sexy, Nick's great, Nick's terrific, the world revolves around Nick, let's sing the praises of Nick the Great. Everybody loves Nick. Damn it.
"Try to get along with him."
"I have been trying. Tell him to stop being such a jerk. He hates me."
"He's jealous of you."
"Right." Funny. Jealous. Somebody was jealous of somebody, all right, but JC had it a little bit backwards, there.
"I love you, Justin."
Oh. Shivers all over. Melting and burning. Intense JC eyes.
"I love Nick. I want you to be happy together."
Like that was going to happen. "I'll try."
"Don't do it for me. Don't do it for Brian. Do it because you like him."
"I don't like him. He's a jerk. And he keeps doing me."
"Tell him to stop."
Oh.
JC smiled.
Justin felt embarrassed. He was amusing JC again. "I try to say no."
"He forces you?" JC asked.
"No, it's not... He wouldn't, he's not like that."
"Then what's wrong?"
"I don't want to want him. Can't you turn him off?"
"Turn him off?"
"He's always on. He's always...that dumb song, 'Am I sexual?' Yes, he's sexual, 24-7. How am I supposed to do my own thing if he's over there working it? And he's not working it, he's not even trying! He just, it must be coming out of his pores."
"He's not doing it on purpose to annoy you."
"He does everything on purpose to annoy me. I try to stay out of his way, but everything I do annoys him, too. I'm just..."
"Doing your own thing."
"Doing my thing, right. And he gets mad at me. I'm not trying to fight, JC. I don't want to fight."
"I know, Justin." JC's eyes thanked him and he got melted again. "I'll talk to him."
"Let Brian do it."
"Why?"
"Brian's used to him and holds off better. Every time you're alone with Nick, orgasms start exploding out of mid-air."
"I'm not immune to him."
"Who could be?" Justin muttered. But he felt better now. "JC? Is he good?"
"Is he good?" JC repeated.
"When you do him."
JC scratched his cheek and tried to think of words. "Yes."
Damn.
Justin went downstairs and found Nick on the sofa, sprawled over the length of it, giving him the pissed-off, sulky look. "You just wait until Daddy gets home," Justin said.
Nick threw a pillow at him.
Justin managed to catch it, after it hit him, and marched over to the couch. "JC loves you. Brian loves you. We're going to be friends."
"The fuck we are."
"Nick, we have everything in common. Everything."
"Except for two things," Nick said, standing. Damn, he was big.
"What?" Justin asked.
Nick yanked the pillow from his hands and threw it on the couch. "You have curly hair and I'm not perfect." Nick stormed across the room.
The bedroom door slammed.
Oops.