DISCLAIMER: All depictions of celebrities are purely the result of an over active imagination and not intended to imply anything about the persons involved. This story is fiction and includes a homosexual relationship. This is intended for entertainment purposes only and should not be taken as fact. Remember kiddies, if you shouldn't be reading this then do it under your blanket late at night so you don't get caught.

Justin Timberlake sat on the balcony of his home nestled in the hills of LA with a drink clenched in his fist. It had been five days since Scott's tearful rejection at the Four Seasons and he had yet to leave the house. His normally smooth face was unshaven and his hair was matted and greasy. He couldn't remember the last time he took a shower and there was a definite smell lingering around him. His blue eyes, always so bright and full of life were dull and bloodshot from lack of sleep. He couldn't even sleep in his bed, the memories of Scott next to him taunting him every time he closed his eyes. He had been sleeping on the couch and his body ached from the uncomfortable positions he woke up in.

Taking a drink from the glass, he choked down the bitter Vodka making a face. He heard the more you drank the easier it was to consume the harsh potato liqueur. His face twisted into a perverted smile briefly at the thought of ever getting use to drinking himself into oblivion every night.

Draining the rest of the glass, he lay back on the chair and let his mind drift back to that night. The night where his perfect life turned upside down. After he left the Four Seasons, he drove straight home to find Scott sitting in the very same chair he was resting in right now. Tears started falling down his face as his drunken mind replayed the events over and over again.

Scott had called the next day and every day after but he wasn't in the mood to talk to him. He had never felt so ashamed before and he couldn't bear to hear that in Scott's voice. A few minutes later, Lance had called but after seeing the caller ID, he simply hung up the phone. Over the next five days, Shelia had called him numerous times but he didn't feel up to talking to her. Lance had shown up several times at the front door but he wouldn't let his friend inside. Choosing instead to hide away in his empty house, his only comfort a bottle of Vodka.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"And just what am I supposed to do Shelia?" Lance argued as they lay in bed. "He won't talk to me, he won't even take my calls."

"You're his best friend James." She sighed loudly, switching the lights off.

Lance lay there in the darkness, a frown crossing his features. Reaching over he switched the light back on. Resting on his arm, he asked, "Do you have any ideas?"

"Several but none of them are legal." She retorted acidly.

"Baby, you can't go around laying blame on Justin's door you know." Lance said softly, caressing her arm lightly.

"Why not?" She shot back. "He's the one that made Scott leave."

Lance struggled for the words. They had been having this argument for days. She adamantly blamed Justin for this problem while Lance steadfastly blamed both of them. Sitting up, he stated, "It takes two to fight you know. Scott hurt him deeply when he said no. How would you feel if I did that to you?"

"When we get married you'll be asking me." She stated, staring at his face intently. She smiled when his eyes widened at her bold declaration. She needed to keep him on his toes; he was getting way to cocky for her thinking lately.

"Come on, don't change the subject." Lance said irritably, uncomfortable at the way this conversation was going. "We're talking about Scott and Justin here."

"I know sweetie." She said as she patted his cheek. "But one of these days we're going to have to talk about this you know."

His eyes grew wild and he looked away. Checkmate she thought absently. She had him right where she wanted him. For a moment, she felt guilty about manipulating him; she was rather fond of him and hated the idea of ever hurting him. But her first concern was Scott; she needed him back with Justin. He was lost without the curly headed singer in his life and way to stupid to get along without him. He needed some prodding in the right direction and Lance was the perfect tool. After all it was every girls duty to steer the men in the right direction, since they couldn't do anything right.

"Fine, I'll try again in the morning." Lance gave in, like he always did when it came to the fiery red head. He reached over and switched off the light. In the dark he didn't see the smile on her face, but as she snuggled up against him, he became aware of how grateful she was as she slowly rubbed against him. Giving into the sensations she was causing in him, he put all thoughts of Justin and Scott from his mind and for awhile lost himself in the pleasure. There was always time in the morning for that anyway.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Scott finished tuning his guitar and turned to Kyle Cook, his writing partner and lead guitarist. "I think I'm ready."

Kyle smiled at him briefly and picked up his guitar. They had met two years earlier when Scott's band, Zylvan, opened for Kyle's band, Matchbox Twenty. Ever since then, the two passionate musicians became fast friends. Now that Matchbox Twenty was on hiatus, Kyle had jumped at the chance to work with his friend. They had been writing songs together for a year and were almost ready to go into the studio and lay down the tracks.

Scott breathed out slowly and began playing a simple melody. His raspy voice sang out softly.

If I could I surely would
Justin ease your pain
But if I could no longer

Would you still know my name
If I couldn't drink the tears
That pour from these eyes
Would you turn your back on me
Would you wave goodbye

And leave me way beyond empty inside
Awaiting my last day to arrive
Way beyond empty inside
Awaiting my end to arrive

If I couldn't be the shoulder
Which your head would rest upon
Would you still be waiting
Or would you be gone
If I couldn't keep the smile
Forever on your face
Would I still be around
Or would I be replaced

Way beyond empty inside
Awaiting my last day to arrive
Way beyond empty inside
Awaiting my end to arrive

Would you promise me
That things they'd never change
Could you promise me
That things they'd stay the same
If I couldn't clear the clouds
>From over your head
Would you keep your word to me
Amongst all the things you said

And leave me way beyond empty inside
Awaiting my last day to arrive
Way beyond empty inside
Oh awaiting my end to arrive
Way beyond empty inside
Awaiting my last day to arrive

Scott's voice faded out softly. As he set his guitar down, he wiped a tear from his eye. Kyle gave him a sympathetic look but fought down the urge to say something. He knew all to well that Scott wouldn't talk until he was ready. So instead, he stood up and stretched. Looking at the clock, he shuddered. It was well past midnight, they had been writing for hours.

Wincing at the tightness in his back, he said quietly, "You know, I think we're finished."

Scott turned his head, trying to work out the kinks. Sticking his hair behind his ear, he answered, "I think so. Too bad people might never get a chance to hear them."

Kyle shook his head. Grabbing his bottle of water, he walked over to the window and looked out at the darkened city below them. He remembered back to a time when his bandmate, Rob Thomas, was agonizing over the possibility of losing his model girlfriend. She was worried about dating a musician and for a time they hovered on the fringes of a breakup. The similarities between Rob's problems and Scott's were too close for his liking. Both had been wrapped up in insecurities that brought them to the edge of losing their true love. Where Rob turned to food for comfort, Scott locked himself in his hotel room and focused all his energies on his music.

Turning to face his friend, Kyle stated, "I can think of one person who should hear these songs."

Scott replied sadly, "He won't even take my calls."

"You have a key don't you." Kyle said simply. "Just go home. Leave this stuffy hotel room and just go home to him."

"It's not that easy." Scott stated as he reached for a cigarette. "Besides, I don't think he wants back."

Kyle's eyes flashed in anger. He was tired of the pity party Scott was wallowing in. "I don't get you."

Scott looked at him in confusion.

"Ever since I've known you, you've been completely head over heels in love with him. And now you're just giving up." Kyle exploded louder than he intended too.

"I almost hit him Kyle." Scott replied sadly. "I almost did something that can never be forgiven."

"But you didn't." Kyle retorted. "You stopped yourself. And you did the right thing by leaving. But it's time to go back now. Fuck man, you need him. I think as much as he needs you."

Kyle threw him his jacket. "Now get the fuck out of here and go home where you belong."

Scott looked at him blankly. Could it be that easy? Did all he have to do is go home to him? Pleading with his friend, he asked, "But what about the marriage thing?"

"What about it?"

"What..."

Kyle interrupted him quickly, "You'll never know unless you talk to him about it."

"Maybe you're right." Scott mused. "I should go and talk to him. I'll do it first thing in the morning."

Kyle gave him a disbelieving look. Scott replied quickly, "I promise. First thing in the morning."

"Okay." Kyle stated finally. "Do you want me to stay here?"

"No, go home. I'll be fine. You need some sleep anyway." Scott said with a weak smile. "No sense in both of us losing sleep."

As he opened the door, Kyle said, "I can guarantee that you look worse than I do."

Scott smiled and replied, "Don't I always?"

"Ask Justin about that?" Kyle teased, knowing at least that Scott's mind was made up. Finally.

"See ya later." Scott called out as the door shut softly. Looking around the empty hotel room, he suddenly felt so alone. The last five days had been torture on him. He had gotten so use to sleeping next to Justin and waking up in his arms that sleep was next to impossible. He missed smelling Justin's hair, a mixture of shampoo and conditioner that had a feeling of home to it. But the thing he missed the most was their nightly ritual of chatting about the days events snuggled up on the sofa while the TV played on in the background. Just the feeling of closeness, the feeling of knowing that one is loved. Maybe the whole marriage thing had some merit after all.

"Fuck it." Scott said as he stood up. Grabbing his jacket, he left the hotel room and made his way to the lobby. After waiting briefly for a taxi, he gave the cabby his address and waited nervously in the back seat. Suddenly he couldn't wait until the morning to see him.

Paying the fare, he paused at the front door. Wondering what the reception would be, he stuck his key in the lock. Exhaling loudly that the locks hadn't been changed he stepped inside.

He heard music coming from the living room and smiled when he recognized the band. His own voice filtered through the house, a song he had written years ago. Justin was listening to Zylvan that in itself was a good sign.

Walking quietly into the living room, his blue eyes took in the sight before him. Justin was sprawled out on the couch, his pants around his knees; his fist still wrapped around himself. His eyes were closed and by the steady rise and fall of his chest, Scott knew he was sleeping. Or passed out as he saw the empty Vodka bottle on the floor.

As he looked closer, he realized that Justin hadn't shaved in days and from the smell emanating from him, he hadn't bothered to shower either. With a look of disgust, he grabbed the empty bottle and walked into the kitchen. A tear fell down his cheek as he saw the remnants of Justin's binge. Six empty bottles of Vodka lined the counter along with several empty pizza boxes. Sometime, Justin had thrown up in the sink and not bothered to rinse it out. The kitchen reeked of vomit and was overpowering.

Walking back into the living room, he turned off the music. Justin stirred in his sleep and made a whimpering sound. He sat down next to his half naked boyfriend and brushed his cheek tenderly.

Speaking softly, he said, "My poor baby. After all this time I still hurt you."

Justin's head flopped over and he moaned loudly. One of his hands rubbed his stomach and he started snoring lightly. Scott smiled weakly. Picking up the curly headed singer, he carried him gently towards the bathroom. Justin nestled into his neck and muttered something as he walked down the hallway.

Setting him down on the counter, he leaned him against the mirror and finished taking off his pants and underwear. Ripping off the socks quickly, he went to the tub and turned the water on. Satisfied with the temperature, he let the water run, filling up the tub with four inches of water.

When he turned back to the counter, he smiled. Justin looked so peaceful propped up against the mirror. His head was thrown to the side and he was drooling on his shoulder. Even in this state, Scott had to fight the urge to ravish him then and there. And for the first time in his life, he finally understood. It was like everything fell into place. Leaning against the mirror with drool falling out of his mouth, smelling like some horrible nightmare, dried stains on his stomach, and all Scott could do was think about how beautiful he was and that he wanted to spend the rest of his lifetime with him. This was definitely not the same Justin everyone knew and his perception of the famous singer changed. He saw Justin as his boyfriend and not as the celebrity.

A feeling of love washed over him and a smile broke out on his face. Sweeping his lover in his arms, he set him in the bathtub carefully. As he begun to wash him, Justin's eyes opened briefly. When their eyes met, Justin smiled and reached out with a hand and touched Scott's face.

"I love you." Justin slurred, his eyes unfocused and bloodshot.

"I love you too." Scott replied tenderly as he soaped up his body.

Justin smiled and once again passed out. Scott took his time washing him, memorizing every detail like it was the first time. Relishing in the fact that Justin was his and no one else's, he lovingly took care of him.

For the most part, Justin didn't wake up again except when Scott poured a pitcher of water on his head to get his greasy hair wet and again when he rinsed out the shampoo. Scott felt like he was washing a baby that couldn't take care of himself and he thought about kids for the first time. Wondering what Justin thought about that, he quickly dried off the singer. Again wrapping his arms around him, he carried him into the bedroom.

After tucking him in snugly, he leaned over and kissed him chastely on the lips. Justin murmured and rolled over on his side and hugged the pillow tightly to his chest. Scott switched off the light and went back into the kitchen. Grabbing an empty garbage bag from the cupboard, he began the arduous task of cleaning up his life starting with the mess in the kitchen.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Justin awoke with the sun shining in his eyes. Groaning loudly, he covered his head with the sheet. His head was pounding and his mouth tasted like a LA sewer pipe. His stomach was churning over and over and he struggled to keep the contents in it down where they belonged. Collapsing even more into the soft bed, he tried to fall back asleep.

Snuggling into the pillow clutched in his arms, he sighed. His bed was comfortable and warm. His eyes shot open. His bed? How did he get there? Trying to sort out the memories in his head was like trying to walk through a wall. No matter how hard he tried to think clearly, his thoughts turned into a jumbled mess.

Pushing the sheet down, he winced at the light. Shading his eyes with one hand, he sat up. Looking around in a daze, he tried to remember a particular dream he had last night. In the dream Scott was there and he was bathing him. Shaking his head at the strange dream, he attempted to stand up. Though he was shaky, he managed to walk to the bathroom. Stepping over his clothes strewn on the floor, he turned the water on and washed his face.

After rinsing his mouth out, he felt a bit better. Fishing for a pair of shorts in the dresser, a tear fell down his cheek as he realized that he had grabbed a pair of Scott's. Pulling on the black shorts haphazardly, more out of a need to feel close to Scott than any shame in his nudity, he walked out of the bedroom and into the living room.

He was quite surprised at the sight. The mess he had made the last five days was gone. Walking into the kitchen, his eyes widened. It was spotless, nothing like the disaster he left the previous night.

"I must've been drunker than I thought." He muttered as he opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. Downing the bottle, he reached for another one. Only then did he realize that refrigerator was fully stocked with food. "Either I had a drunken cleaning fit last night or it wasn't a dream." He spoke aloud, suddenly feeling nauseous at just the thought of him going to a store in his condition last night.

Slowly walking through the house, he searched for any signs that Scott had been there. Except for the house being clean and the sudden appearance of food, there wasn't a trace of Scott to be found. Deciding that he needed to go back to bed, he walked down the hall. As he passed the guest bedroom, he remembered clearly that door being open the night before.

With a feeling of trepidation, he opened the door and peered inside. His heart fell when he saw the made bed and the empty room. Maybe it was all a dream. Shuffling back to the bedroom, he paused in front of Scott's home studio. An overwhelming feeling of loneliness engulfed him and suddenly he needed to be around something that Scott loved.

Opening the door to the makeshift studio, he started crying as he saw the bent over form of Scott as he played his guitar. He was wearing headphones so Justin couldn't hear what he was playing but when he started singing Justin lost himself in the words.

I look around I see that the times ain't changed
Same old faces same old names
All the things we thought we knew
You lied to me and I lied to you

All this time you never ever sympathized
And all this time I can't find my way back inside
What you give is what you get
But you drew the line on me baby
Tears falling free but you can't see
I'm just a touch away baby
Tell me where am I now
Oh why where and how
Show me the road back home again
Tell me where am I now
Oh why where and how
Show me the road back home back home

The pain blew in like a hurricane
Stranger in this town hearing your name
Trapped in the silence with my memories
It's cutting me deep and it's telling me

All this time you never ever sympathized
All this time I can't find myself back inside
Going nowhere and I'm heading there fast
And I don't mean maybe
The light is getting low
And my touch is growing cold
Oh just hold me baby
Tell me where am I now
Oh why where and how
Show me the road back home again
Tell me where am I now
Oh why where and how
Show me the road back home back home

Justin let the tears fall freely down his face. As Scott repeated the chorus again, Justin let the words smash through his hangover. The stupidity of the last five days fell away and he only wanted his soulmate back. And when he realized that Scott was staring at him through the mirror as he sang, Justin started weeping, his shoulders heaving as he sobbed uncontrollably.

Scott stopped playing and stood up and faced him. Justin took a halting step forward, one hand reaching out in desperation. Tears rolled down Scott's cheeks as he grasped Justin in a hug. For what seemed like forever the two stayed like that, locked in one another's embrace. Words were unnecessary as they cried and hung on together tightly. And then ever so softly, their lips met. Haltingly at first but then growing into passion that shot through their beings like electricity.

Quite sometime later, they were sitting on the couch wrapped up in each other's arms. Scott was filling Justin in on the progress he had made on the new material. Talking excitedly about the music with the only person that mattered to him. After their tearful reunion in the studio, they had hashed out their problems over a much-needed breakfast. And both had decided to forget about the past week and focus on the future.

They had stayed by each other's side, never straying more than an arm length of one another. Periodically one would reach out and caress a cheek or an arm, just to reassure them that it was real.

It was several hours later when the doorbell interrupted them. Justin stood up and answered it. Lance barged in and immediately started talking.

"I don't care if you don't want to see me but I have some things I have to say to you." Lance declared, expecting a fight.

Justin smiled at him and said, "Lance, come in."

Storming into the kitchen, Lance sat down and gestured for Justin to follow suite. Not even waiting for him to sit down, Lance started in with a well-rehearsed speech. "I have some things to say to you."

Justin started, "So do I..."

Lance cut him off with a wave of his hand and continued, "Let me talk. This foolishness of you hiding out in here has to stop. Scott told Shelia the whole story and frankly I think you're behaving like a spoiled asshole that didn't get your way. You love Scott so much that you would die if you don't get him back. Right now he's locked up in his hotel room pouring everything into his music. Both of you are just too stubborn to realize that you're madly in love with each other. And I won't have two of my best friends acting like idiots. So this is what we're going to do, you're going to get dressed and we're going over to Scott's hotel and the two of you are going to straighten this out or I'll personally kick both of your asses."

Justin stared at him with a blank look on his face. During his little speech, Scott had entered the kitchen and was now standing directly behind Lance. Justin started laughing uncontrollably.

Lance's face mirrored a thundercloud as he smacked the counter loudly with his hands. "I mean it. Go get dressed. Now."

Justin replied through fits of laughter, "But Lance..."

"No buts Justin." Lance stated angrily. "This ends today god damnit if I have to kill you in the process. We're going to the hotel and that's final."

"Okay." Justin gave in, standing up. "But I don't think Scott's at the hotel."

"He's there all right. He hasn't left there in days." Lance declared.

"Now go get ready."

Lance watched as Justin headed for the bedroom, a look of determination on his face. Scott took the time to plop down next to Lance and say, "I think you handled that well."

Lance jumped up and looked first at Scott and then down the hallway towards the bedroom. "How...when...what's going on?"

Scott only laughed at him, unable to speak. Justin walked back into the kitchen and declared. "Well if we're going let's go."

Lance looked back and forth at them, confusion in his eyes. He lost all control when Scott asked; "Do you mind if I go with you?"

"Somebody better tell me what the fuck is going on?" Lance stuttered finally, glaring at them as Justin sat down next to Scott and kissed him on the cheek.

"Well." Justin said. "It all started..."

To Be Continued

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