A Tale of Two Boybands 25


This is yet another story about those hunky boys of the Backstreet Boys and 'N Sync written by a straight woman. Therefore, please excuse my writings if they appear to be a bit screwed due to my lack of knowledge. This story is a work of FICTION (note the term FICTION- I can't stress this enough) and is purely written for the sole purpose of entertainment and enjoyment. Yes! Entertainment. That's all... think of it like a movie. You watch for entertainment and you read for entertainment. These events did not happen to the best of my knowledge and therefore actions taken in this story do not reflect the true nature of the characters involved. This story does not imply anything about the sexuality of the person(s) involved. And if you're an underage teenie or do not wish to read about male/male sexual relationships, this is now the time to shut your lap-top as there will be sexual explicit scenes throughout. Proceed with your own risk. Enough with the warnings, now on with the story.

***Author's Note:

Awe...how sweet of all of you to come and rescue Baby JuJu. Justy, sweetie, you can come out of closet now. No one's going to hurt you. He's still a little scared, but he wanted to thank each and every one of you for emailing. Because of your outpour of emails, he'll going to be spared, but just for a while. Just because you're the almighty Aphrodite's Adonis doesn't mean that you'll get special treatment. Nope. Nope. Nope. Also, he wanted to remind you to vote for "A Tale of Two Boybands" at the BBSA. And this last message is from me...Thanks to everyone who nominated for me.



It wasn't even 6 o'clock yet as all of New Jersey was still sound asleep. But this could no longer wait a second later. JC's precious sleep time, even though now consumed all but four hours of his 24 hour day cycle, was disturbed rudely by Dre. Dre was here to escort JC from his room to the temporary office of "Dr. Kirkpatrick and Collegues". JC needed help. He needed to hear from professionals that he was not well. Even though Chris had studied psychology in college, because he was JC's friend, he was afraid JC would not listen to him. However, if professionals were to confront JC with his problems, JC would accept his psychological problems and deal with them. At least, Chris hoped this would all work out.

JC reluctantly agreed to the terms Chris had laid out on the table- not that he had much choice in the matters. Chris basically gave him an ultimatum to seek professional help, if not from him, from licensed clinical psychologist. If he didn't agree to seek help, Chris had threatened to drop him off on some street corner in Jersey.

As the days without Justin became more and more numerous, JC was starting to feel as if he was slipping further and further away from reality. He would barricade himself in his room all day. He recognized symptoms that he could no longer control himself including fatigue and anhedonia. These symptoms scared JC the most. He was always the soul of the group, full of energy. Normally, getting up at the crack of dawn was simple. He had to wake up early. It usually took him a good half hour just to wake Justin up and drag him into the bathroom. Now, he had to drag himself out of bed just to take a shower. Worst of all was when he would sit down on his bed for hours at time with a notebook and pen in hand and no inspiration, no desire to write down anything. Making music for their new album suddenly became a chore more than a love. The constant pestering calls from music executives drove JC further and further into his despair. He knew he needed help, and was thankful for Chris unwillingness to give up on him.

Dre led JC down the quite hall. He stopped in front of Chris's room and opened it. JC walked past Dre into the room and closed the door behind him. It was time to deal with his depression. He found Chris sitting at his desk. Chris was looking very professional- much like his entourage of psychologist friends sitting by him. His hair was combed and slicked by. He even used more hair grease than JC would use in an entire week. JC was impressed, especially with Chris's glasses. They truly reflect his intelligence and intelligence Chris had.

JC only sat down long enough to warm his seat before Chris handed him a notebook. He excused himself to a safe corner and allowed his two psychologist friends step in and conduct the session.

In order to assess JC's condition and to find the root of his problems, JC had to take a psychological test. A sentence completion test was simple enough, yet effective, at gathering important information.

JC was asked several questions to which he had to answer by writing down his responses in the notebook provided.

"When were you most angry? And describe the situation which led to your anger?" One of the psychologists asked.

JC took the pen and wrote the first thing that came to mind.

October 1995 during a promotional concert tour at a nightclub. The guys and I were ready to perform when I realized that Justin was not here yet. He had arrived late and gone off to change to the appropriate attire. I had asked Chris to check on him, but Chris was too busy chatting with the patrons at the club to listen. He said that Justin was a big boy now. He didn't need us to baby-sit him 24/7. That was Lynn's job and Lynn was here. She was here. She received an emergency call and had to attend to it. After several more minutes had passed and still no Justin, I decided to go find him myself. I had never felt so angry in my entire life. I entered the room with a sign, "dressing room" on it. The room was a mess. A disarray of clothes scattered about. I started to pick up the clothes and recognized them to belong to Justin. It was then that I heard his cries. I followed the muffling noises and discovered him in the closet. He was buried inside the closet. Nude. Scratch marks everywhere. I examined him closer and...the inflammation of his penis was still burning red. Someone had attacked him, quite possibly raped him. I was angry. I wanted to go out and find that bastard and kill him. But I couldn't. I had to tend to Justin. He was my first priority.

"When were you most happy?"

I think the happiest day of my life was the day I met with Justin to start our group. He called me on the phone, asking if I wanted to join him and his friend in starting a group. I was reluctant at first. I thought it'd be a kiddy group with him and his friends. But I said, yes, nonetheless. I was ecstatic that he thought of me first. So, the following day, I hopped on the first plane out to Memphis. When I arrived at the airport, he jumped on me- much like a puppy greeting his owner's arrival at home. I fell flat on my butt. He was a lot heavier that I remembered. Of course, I hadn't seen him for half a year. He helped me carry my bags and together walked to join his mother, Lynn. Lynn had prepared us a fine meal. Crab Alfredo, Justin's favorite. After dinner, Justin and I spent the entire day chatting about anything and everything. We talked about our Mickey Mouse Days. We discussed our future dreams and hopes. He still wanted to be a basketball player. I told him that he was growing at such a fast pace that he just might be like Mike. He laughed and I laughed some more. We stayed up that night, sitting on the rooftop, looking up at the sky. It was a beautiful moment.

"A few more questions. When were you most scared?"

When I saw the fear in his eyes the morning after I raped him. The fear he had for me. It scared me to see myself reflected in those tearful eyes.

"Finally, when were you most sad?"

The last night we shared together. It was late in the night. There wasn't a single soul in sight. I drove him away in this rental car. So many times, I prayed that I would get lost on our way to the subway station. I saw the sign and made the opposite turn, but fate stepped in. The route led me straight to the subway station. I knew then that I couldn't take charge of my destiny, our destiny. It was controlling me. I had to let him go.

JC put his pen down and for the first time, he allowed his tears to along his angular face. It was Justin all along. He grabbed the notebook and tore out the pages he wrote on. Shredding the pages into a million pieces, he dashed out the room. No one was going to see his weakness.

A few hours later, Thursday inevitably arrived in spite of Justin's dismay. Justin lay on the bed. As Brian walked out of the bathroom wearing little than his briefs, Justin pulled the sheets to his chin. Brian noticed Justin's actions and walked over to his young boyfriend.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Brian asked, placing a kiss on Justin's forehead. "I'm sorry about last night. I just couldn't control myself sometimes. You make me want to do things I can't exactly understand myself."

When Justin remained silent, Brian pulled the sheets from Justin's grip. He discarded the thin sheet to the floor and crawled over Justin. Kissing him on the neck, Brian whispered into his boyfriend's ear. "Does it still hurt?" Brian asked, gently massaging Justin's injured member.

"A little." Justin managed to muffle his lie. The truth was that Justin was still feeling the pain especially when Brian continued to stroke him. Just the weight of Brian's hand on his member was enough to elicit painful signals from his sensory nerves. Last night, after a hard day at work and a few too many drinks- the usual four to be exact, Brian shifted into bed beside his young boyfriend.

"Long day?" Justin asked Brian after hearing his boyfriend's heavy sigh."You can say so. For twelve hours, we were barricaded behind the studio walls. At the end, we only got three songs recorded." Brian explained. "At the look of this, it might mean that we'll have to wait until October to release our next album."

"Oh, yes. The double album." Justin mumbled.

Brian sensed his boyfriend's lack of enthusiasm over the topic at hand. He quickly changed the topic from his work to Justin's day at the house. Of course, everything Justin said tonight was no different from what he said the night before and the night before that. Basketball, TV, basketball, TV, video games, and TV- oh yeah, and some more basketball.

"Um...Justin, sweetie, can we do something else?" Brian asked, stroking Justin's face.

"Like what?"

"Like this." Brian smiled, stripping away the sheets to reveal a boxer-clad Justin on the bed. Brian jumped on top of Justin, grinding his hard cock into Justin's rather flaccid stalk.

"Brian." Justin moaned out loud as Brian continued to suck on the nape of his neck. He bit down his bottom lip to keep pleasurable moans from slipping further. "Brian, tonight's not Thursday."

"I know, baby." Brian responded. "But it doesn't mean that we can't make out in the meantime."

"I guess you're right." Justin uttered as he received Brian's succulent lips.

Brian ferociously attacked Justin's lips, sucking and nibbling on the pout. Justin just lay on his back, accepting Brian's assault on his lips. He put his arms around Brian's neck and massaged the tensed muscles of his boyfriend's neck as well. The mere touch of Justin's hands on Brian's neck was enough to send Brian into orbit. The kiss intensified in great passion as Brian continued to fondle Justin who was trapped underneath him.

"Brian." Justin moaned. This time not from pleasure, rather from pain as Brian applied much pressure to his inflamed member.

Brian answered with an even louder moan of his lover's name. Just the foreplay of grinding into each other's crotch and Justin stroking him with his bare hand was enough to make Brian cum. As his body shook violently, Brian grabbed onto the tender phallus of his boyfriend. Unaware of what he was doing, he gripped the stalk tightly in his hands, nearing robbing Justin of his manhood as he cummed. A shot load of Brian's hot love residues wet his boxers as well as that of his young boyfriend's. It wasn't until then that Brian had realized what had just transpired. Justin's wet white cotton boxers clung to his crotch- the inflammation of the tender organ still burned as Brian touched him- an indication to Brian the damage he had done to his young boyfriend.

"I am sorry, Justin. I'm sorry." Brian said.

"It's okay." Justin said. "Now, let's get some sleep."


That was last night. Tonight was the night he promised himself to Brian. Brian had made sure he didn't forget his promise. Against the back wall, Brian etched inside the box of April 20th of his `N Sync calendar, "Brian and Justin". A red heart drawn around their names. As the day drew closer, Brian would cross out the previous days. He would whisper into Justin's ears as he slipped into bed ready for his bedtime rest the number of days remaining until the night they would ultimately consummate their love. Bouquet of flowers sent to Justin during Brian's lunch break dwindled in number. The first day Brian had thought of this ingenious idea, Justin had received a bouquet of four freshly picked sunflowers on Sunday. Monday, he received three and Tuesday one less. By Wednesday, he had received his last. This lunch hour, Justin received no flower, just a card with a time of "7:30pm" printed on it. Tonight, he would receive an even better gift from his boyfriend.

Justin sat on the couch, his arms crossed over his chest, staring blankly at the television screen before him. He was not in the mood to do anything today. He had to save all his energy for tonight. As he was sure Brian would definitely work him to a pulp and if he was lucky, he might be able to walk around tomorrow. Only if he was lucky. Last night was just a preview to tonight. Justin could only imagine what Brian had in store for him.

Brian had spent the last few days, masterminding a perfect plan. Because Justin was to remain unknown in this little town, Brian had arranged for the best (the only) restaurant to be at his home. They were to have a candle lit dinner of Crab Alfredo prepared by the prestigious restaurant staff. Last time, he had to substitute crab for chicken. This time, Brian made sure Justin would get the real deal. After arranging for the romantic dinner, Brian transformed the guest home into a love-making headquarter. Inside the one-story studio, stood a bed draped with thin white sheets. Much like the bed, Brian remembered AJ had presented Justin in. There were french windows all around the studio, allowing natural lights to enter and accent the draped bed. A pathway from the entrance to the bed was lined with red rose petals. The path diverged to create a seal around the bed with the roses. Along the windowsills, candles were meticulously placed on each end. Aroma scented incense was lit all around the studio. It was going to be a perfect night. And the night would begin with the dinner that arrived half an hour too late.

Justin began playing with the tablecloth as he waited impatiently for dinner to arrive. Brian had called during his lunch hour to inform him that he shouldn't have a heavy lunch, that he should save his appetite for tonight's dinner. Brian had to leap across the table to stop him from tearing at the tablecloth. Justin relentlessly let go of the tablecloth, settling in his seat once more.

"Brian, it's 8:30pm." Justin whined. "I haven't eaten all day."

"I thought you said you ate a sandwich." Brian said.

"A sandwich is not lunch." Justin said, getting up from his seat. "I'm going to bed hungry tonight."

"Wait!" Brian rushed to stop Justin in his tracks. "Please, Justin, sit down. Dinner is on it's way." Justin just stared into Brian's baby blues. He shrugged his shoulders and returned to his seat across from Brian. "Thank you." Brian said.

Sure enough, dinner would eventually arrive to much of Brian's disappointment. The entrée of crab alfredo had been substituted to a regular spaghetti dinner at the last minute. As the dinner was revealed, Brian recoiled into his seat. The whole night appeared to be a disaster. What else could go wrong? Brian was sure the night was a lost a cause until he felt something on his arm. Excited, he turned around. It was Justin. He had made his way to Brian's side.

"Can I finish your dinner?" He asked like a little boy.

Brian glanced down at his nearly untouched plate of spaghetti. His eyes brightened as a thought to rescue the night entered his mind.

"Only if you let me feed you." Brian said.

Justin nodded, yes.

Brian pushed Justin down onto the ground beneath his feet. Looking down at the boy on his knees, Brian leaned in for a kiss on his delicate lips, gently strokin his neck up and down, up and down. His hands traced the outline of Justin's jaw until his chin was reached. Brian gently lifted the boy's chin. His left hand still held Justin's chin up. Using his free hand, Brian twirled a fork full of spaghetti and shoved it down his throat. Justin nearly choked. His eyes misted over with tears as he swallowed hard. Brian stared intensely as Justin's adam's apple wobbled up and down and his chest heaved in and out. Brian was finding himself getting aroused at the mere sight of the submissive boy. It was time for another feeding. Again, Justin nearly choked. Brian left little time for Justin to recuperate as he shoved another fork load of food. And another until Justin could take it no more. He collapsed onto the floor, spitting out the spaghetti dinner all over his CK dress shirt. Justin glanced down at his soiled shirt. He hated dirty things and he hated being dirty more. Justin's sour look was altered by Brian's kiss on his lips. Brian withdrew, waiting for Justin's response.

"My shirt is dirty. I can't wear it anymore." Justin pouted.

"Then, let's get you out of the shirt." Brian, said, helping Justin to his feet. "I have a washer and dryer set in the guest home."


Brian led Justin through the peach orchard to the guest home located behind the thicket. Brian turned the knob and to his surprise, the door was locked. Brian swore he had unlocked it earlier. There was no key. He didn't bring it with him. Another moment ruined. So, Brian thought. Then, suddenly, Justin slammed his shoulder against the door. The door popped open. Justin stepped back to allow Brian to continue to take charge of the moment. Brian stepped inside first, using the excuse that the place was messy. He soon returned to whisk Justin inside.

Justin's eyes opened wide at the beautiful sight before him. Inside the one-story studio, stood a bed draped with thin white sheets. There were french windows all around the studio, allowing lights to enter and accent the draped bed. A pathway from the entrance to the bed was lined with red rose petals. The path diverged to create a seal around the bed with the roses. Along the windowsills, candles were meticulously placed on each end. Aroma scented incense was lit all around the studio. It was perfect, too perfect. Justin walked up to the incense and took in the homedic aroma.

"Is this all for me?" He asked, smiling at his boyfriend.

"You can take off your dirty shirt inside in the bathroom around the corner." Brian said, trying to hide his excitement.

"Okay." Justin said, a hint of disappointment evident in his voice. "Around the corner. I'll be right back."

As soon as Justin was out of sight, Brian rushed to the kitchen area to retrieve a platter of essentials such as chocolate syrup, strawberry jam, whipped cream, and of course cherry candies to top it all off along with some nifty little things he picked up at some shop earlier in the day.

"Brian, um...I think your bathroom is locked." He heard Justin hollered from the hallway. "I think I'll just change out here. You know me. I hate dirty things. Of course, you should know that if you happened to read the first issue of `Entertainmenteen'. Done."

Justin said, turning around to find Brian in just his boxers carrying a platter of ice cream toppings.

"Are we having ice cream?" Justin asked, smiling.

Brian approached Justin and squirted chocolate syrup all over Justin's wifebeater.

"You're not done yet, baby." Brian said, pulling the syrup drenched underwear away from Justin's adhesive chest.

Justin smiled, knowing where Brian was going as Brian couldn't stop massaging his pecs under the filthy wifebeater. Justin inched forward, licking his lips, before pulling the underwear over his head. With his hands buried deep in his trousers, revealing just enough of his Calvins, Justin said, again, "Done."

"But you see you're not." Brian said with a devilishly grin. He stepped forward and grinded his crotch into Justin's. With his two hands dipped in strawberry jam, he cupped Justin's buttocks, pulling the boy onto the bed, and making sure he squeezed Justin's cheeks a bit.

"I guess this has to go, too." Brian, said, leaning down to pick up the button of Justin's trousers with his teeth. With one quick move, Brian yanked open Justin's trousers. "C'mon, get them off. They're very dirty." Brian said, squirting some more chocolate syrup all over the front of his pants.

Justin rolled out of bed. He stood up in front of Brian, allowing Brian to slowly slip off his trousers off his slender hips. Brian took his time, unzipping Justin's pants, relishing the moment. Both boys, now clad in only their boxers, met each other with another passionate kiss. Without breaking their kiss, Brian maneuvered himself behind Justin. Justin had to arch his neck backward to kiss Brian. Such a convenient position as Brian reached around Justin's waist to grab his crotch with his dirty little hands. Justin's eyes shot opened as he felt Brian's invasive grip.

"Looks like these will have to go, too." Brian smiled down at his angel lovingly. He couldn't wipe off his smile as he was outlining Justin's manhood with his thumb.

"This is not fair." Justin whined.

"What's not fair, baby?"

"You get to see me butt naked first. Why do I always have to get naked first?"

Justin was right. This wasn't fair. If Justin had not stopped him, Brian would have gone further and during the moment would have forgotten, not neglected he might add, but forgotten Justin's needs. But then, again, his boxers are dirty and Brian knew that Justin hated dirty things. So, Brian returned to his position on top of Justin.

Reaching carefully for Justin's wrists, he slid the handcuffs onto Justin's wrists and handcuffed him to the bed posts.


"Shhh..." Brian silenced Justin with another kiss, sealing his lips. His lips worked Justin's youthful neck while his hands tackled Justin's manhood.

Still kissing him on the lips, Brian tore away Justin's boxers. He reached under himself and squirted whipped cream all over Justin's manhood. Upon receiving the cold cream, Justin let out a soft moan as Brian held him in place on the canopy bed. After several minutes of intense passionate kissing, Brian got off Justin. He smiled victoriously at his masterpiece. Sprawled out on the bed was Justin Timberlake in bondage. A mass of sprinkled whipped cream covered his crotch and topped off with a cherry candy.

"Baby, you look so delicious with all this whipped cream and a cherry candy on top. I can eat you alive."


"What whipped cream and cherry candy on top?" Justin asked, leaning against the wall of the kitchen, fully clothed.

Brian quickly turned around to find Justin staring at him. He returned his gaze inside the refrigerator. No whipped cream. No chocolate syrup. No strawberrry jam. No cherry candy. He reappeared from the fridge and looked dumbfounded at Justin. Justin approached Brian, pulling him away from the fridge far enough so he could close the door.

"Next time, you shouldn't eat all that spoiled whipped cream. You spent the last hour puking. It totally ruined our night. And I was going to give myself to you, too." Justin, said, kissing him on the lips. "Next time, I'll bring the whipped cream. If you paid attention to last month's issue of TeenBeat, you'd always know that I'm an ice cream fanatic. I know what toppings are the best for ice cream." Justin teased Brian's lower lips before releaser it from his teeth's grip. "And you forgot the almond chunks, too. I'm going off to bed now. I promised Ted an early wake-up match. Do you believe that guy? He thinks he can beat me at basketball. I was born bouncing. Good night."

And he was gone. Gone into the night. Brian sunk down onto the floor. How could this happen? A perfect night ruined because he got sick. Now, that he remembered it, he kept refilling Justin's crotch with can after can of whipped cream. Spoiler or not, it was good whipped cream. And above all, how could he forget the almond chunks? That would be fun to insert them in Justin's dick and watch Justin screamed out his name and then to squeeze them out using his bare teeth. How could he forget such an important ice cream topping as almond chunks? Oh, well. Like Justin said, next time. Next time. Brian, control your horny self.

***Here's a little note to the women from Illinois who are suing my boys because they missed the Joliet concert due to heavy traffic:

Ticket Refund= $60

Lawsuit filed against `N Sync and Management= millions of $$$

Sex Slave for a Day= Priceless.

As always, thanksJ .