Disclaimer: The following story is a fictional account about Justin Timberlake and Britney Spears. This story is for entertainment purposes only and should not be taken for anything resembling the truth. It also contains homosexual acts and should not be viewed if it is unlawful in your circle of life. Please do not remove from this archive without first obtaining permission from the authors. That being said, please enjoy this story for what it is worth. Thank you.

This story is dedicated to the only person that ever broke my heart. You know who you are and you know the lie you live every day. Fear will and has destroyed everything we were, everything we hoped to be. Forgiveness is an act of love and love dies.

February 18^th 2010

Glancing at his watch, tears welled up in the blue eyes of Greg Winters. It was just past five p.m. on his thirtieth birthday. Turning thirty wasn't that big of a deal but his employees had thrown him a surprise party during lunch. While he appreciated the sentiment, he wasn't comfortable being the center of attention all afternoon. Now, hours later, he was alone in his private office. Along with the empty plates and glasses that were strewn around the lush office. Mingled together with the bags full of wrapping paper from all the gifts he had received. He looked down at his desk and the useless trinkets that covered it. Most of the gifts were expensive if not down right extravagant. A mixture of theatre tickets, watches, diamond tiepins, useless baubles brown-nosing employees would consider perfect for the President of the company. The only gift he truly would enjoy, was the bottle of Remy Martins. Fifty year old Scotch, a gift that had true class.

Grabbing the crystal decanter, he poured half a glass and drank it down in a single gulp. As always, it went down smooth and easy. Walking across the room, he studied his thirty-year-old face in the mirror. For the most part, he still looked like he did at twenty-one. Except for a few more lines around his eyes and slightly thinning hair that he kept cut close and styled in a professional manner becoming of the CEO of NenTek Oil. His piercing blue eyes were just a bit puffy and dark circles lined them, he looked tired. Looking to his right, he smiled sadly at the portrait of his father hanging on the wall.

Raising his empty glass, he stated softly, "Here's to you father. I had my doubts but look, I did it. Just like you wanted me to."

Briskly he walked back over to the bottle and poured himself another three fingers worth of the Scotch and sat down in his high-backed leather chair. He was tired. Running the largest Oil Company in the United States took its toil no matter how much you exercised. He was still lean and hard though he spent most of his time behind the desk. Most women thought him handsome in a rugged sort of way. The prodigal son that somehow managed to save the company from certain ruin after his parents passed away. He was lost in his thoughts about his parents when his secretary knocked on the door.

"Come in." He answered tiredly, taking a sip from his glass.

Mrs. Winterborne walked into the room confidently, her back straight despite her sixty years of living. Her red suit was tasteful, power clothes some said, and oozed authority. If the shareholders knew the elderly woman was the true hero behind NenTek he would be out of a job. Even through his weariness, he smiled warmly at her.

"Sorry to bother you sir but I wanted to ask if you needed anything else before I head off." She asked, even as she started gathering up the trash.

"I'm fine. You don't have to do that. I'm on my way out anyway." He chided her, knowing she would do whatever she wished anyway.

"Okay sir, then I'll see you bright and early on Monday." Came the reply as she headed out of the room with an armful of garbage leaving him to his dark thoughts. Leaning back in his chair, he chuckled when he heard her exclaim, "That's right. I almost forgot in all the festivities. You have a package."

"Really, what is it?" He asked, filling up his glass again.

"I'm not sure. It arrived while you were opening your gifts. I did not want to disturb you." She explained, walking back in the room carrying a plain cardboard box. Taped to the top of the box was a card with no return address. She set the box on the desk in front of him and informed him, "There's no return address but the card states happy birthday on it."

Shrugging his shoulders, he began opening the box. Guessing one of his college friends had sent him a gag gift, he was rather glad he had not opened the box in front of his employees. Some of his friends had no concept of decorum and had sent him some pretty bizarre things in the past. Once he had the tape cut, he slowly opened the flaps. It was filled to the brim with packing peanuts. Smiling at his secretary, he began fishing around inside for whatever they had gotten him this year. His hand found something and he pulled it out. It was a simple picture frame and when he looked at it, tears began forming in his eyes.

"Are you all right?" Mrs. Winterborne asked, concerned by his display of emotions.

He didn't answer her; instead he let the memories surface, memories of times long since passed. The feelings washed over him and he remembered everything he had forced from his mind such a long time ago.

"Sir?"

Realizing he was standing there crying, he smiled at her weakly. Sitting down he motioned with his hand for her to join him. Holding the picture in his hands, he said softly, "I remember when this picture was taken. It was a long time ago, right after my parents accident."

February 15^th, 2001

Opening the bungalow door brought a wave of heat so intense that Greg instantly broke out in a sweat causing his white tanktop to cling to his upper body. His blue board shorts did little to cool him off despite the thin material. If anything the flimsy material only added to his discomfort by riding up on him in places that it shouldn't have. For the tenth time since arriving there, he questioned his decision. Wondering if everyone back home talked about his disappearance or thought it strange to run off to a tropical island just weeks after his parent's death. But he pushed those thoughts away; he couldn't deal with that just yet. That or anyone.

After the will was finalized and he took control of his inheritance, relatives he never knew he had started showing up looking for handouts. Even his friends had began treating him differently, expecting him to pay for everything. They came close to demanding a piece of his estate. Throw all that along with the board members declaring he should sign over his shares so others more apt to run the business would be in control. After all these years, the Winter family business was in jeopardy of a semi-hostile takeover. Basically he was disgusted with them all. So without informing anyone of his plans, he quietly slipped away after the funeral and hopped a plane to the Virgin Islands. The only place he ever dreamed of going.

The travel agent assured him the bungalow he had rented was completely exclusive and located on a private beach, far away from prying eyes. Only patrons of the Resort could use that side of the island. He was assured the Resort only catered to the wealthiest of the upper crust of the world. He would not be bothered there by anyone. At the time, isolation seemed the perfect solution for his dilemma.

Being still in shock and mourning from the loss of his parents, he desperately needed the time to sort out his emotions and figure out a plan for the future. So for three days, he forgot about everything and relaxed on the white beach and swam in the clearest waters he had ever seen.

He had not invited anyone to accompany him and he was beginning to get lonely. At first, it was perfect to have the time to mourn in peace but he began to miss the human contact. Which is why he was walking down the beach at six-o-clock at night by himself. He had pretty much stayed at the bungalow and the strip of beach directly in front of it for three days. But now he headed down the beach to where for the last three days he heard laughter and music every night till the sun rose.

The waves tried to engulf him as he walked in the surf-line. The sand gently sucking him down with every step. The warm water felt refreshing as the heat continuously beat down on him. The sun was sinking low across the horizon but still hours away from setting. He silently cursed himself for not wearing a hat to cover his blonde hair. Squinting in the sun with his troubled blue eyes, he strained to see down the beach. Finally, he saw what he had been searching for. The bungalow where he heard all the music and laughter coming from till the rooster chased the night away.

It was a short walk from his bungalow, only about a half-mile but he was completely drenched in sweat from his excursion. Stopping for a moment, he studied the partying guests. There were about twenty people on the beach. Some were playing volleyball, some were dancing to the music that blasted from somewhere and others were just lying around talking amongst themselves. He could smell something cooking over an open fire and his stomach reminded him it had been several hours since he had bothered to feed it. From the noise it started making, he knew that if he didn't put something in it soon, it would rebel against its master.

As he walked closer to the revelry, he studied the group of people dancing. His eyes somehow drawn to a single figure dancing in the center. His lean body weaving in time with the music captivated Greg's attention. His hips were rocking to the fast dance beat and his arms were moving in intricate patterns like a snake performing for a snake charmer. The other dancers moved away from him, allowing him the freedom to go wherever the music led him. As Greg watched, he realized this was where the man belonged. In the center of everything, performing was as natural as breathing.

His head was thrown back and his eyes were tightly closed as he continued his very suggestive dance to the thrill of the onlookers. His muscular body was drenched in sweat and glistened in the fading light. His shorts were white and with the combination of the sweat and the sun's back-lighting, he could see right through them. Seeing a body that was nearly perfect, he found himself holding his breath.

His eyes wandered over the taunt stomach, watched them moved and ripple as if a million beings lived inside him. With an intensity that scared him, he studied the man. His perfectly formed chest, perfect ass, everything about this man was perfect. He marveled at the fact that this man was on display for everyone and didn't seem to mind the attention.

His dance became more erotic as the music built for a final crescendo. At the song's end, he dropped to his knees, throwing his hands high above his head. Silence came over the crowd; the only sound was the deep breaths that emitted from his chest. Greg watched in fascination as a roar of applause exploded from the onlookers. Amid the cheers and clapping, the dancer stood and flashed his audience with a devilish grin, as if to say, `I know, I'm sexy. You don't have to tell me.' Making his way through the crowd, he almost looked embarrassed as they clapped his back and uttered praise on him. As Greg watched him stoop over and grab a bottle of water from the many coolers littering the beach, he suddenly took a deep breath. Turning red when he realized he had been holding his breath, he shook his head.

Walking over to where several people were playing volleyball, he stopped on the sidelines. A few of the players nodded at him, silently welcoming him to the party. With one eye on the game and the other on the mysterious dancer, he tried to clear his head from the thoughts racing through his mind.

"I haven't seen you here before have I?"

A cheerful voice interrupted his musing. "What?" He stammered as he turned to look at the girl who had spoken.

His eyes widened. Standing before him was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. She was slim but extremely fit and slightly muscular. She wasn't very tall and had blonde shoulder length hair that he could not tell if it was from the sun or a bottle. A half-full bottle of Corona was held lightly in one hand and she toyed with the straw with the other. Her green eyes staring intently at him.

She laughed as she repeated the question, "I asked if you were new here. I haven't seen you before."

He blushed deeply as he replied, "I'm at the bungalow down the beach aways. I've been hearing all the fun down here for the last three days so I decided to check it out."

"You're cute when you blush." She said with a giggle. "I'm Courtney."

He shook the offered hand and fumbled through the introduction, "Ah, I'm Greg."

"Are you sure?" She asked, batting her eyes like a schoolgirl with a crush.

"Yeah. Pretty sure." Greg replied with a laugh. Normally girls looked stupid batting their eyes but somehow she looked sexy as hell when she did it. "If I'm not, I'm wearing his underwear."

Laughing a musical laugh, she said, "Nice to meet cha. You've been missing one hell-of-a-party."

"Sounds like it." Greg said absently as he searched for his dancer. Not finding him, he asked, "Who's throwing this bash anyway?"

"Don't know. I came with a friend and haven't seen her in two days." Courtney admitted and finished off her beer.

"Really." Greg stated with a grin. "Are you from the island?"

"Nope. Just here on vacation." Came the reply as she grabbed his hand. "You look hot. Let's go get another drink."

He allowed himself to be pulled along by the much shorter blonde. As they walked towards the coolers, she called out to almost everyone. He figured she was the pseudo greeter, as she seemed to know everyone there. He studied her as she pulled him along. She was extremely sure of herself and had this confident air about her that suggested she was used to getting anything she wanted. `Probably a spoiled rich girl out looking for some fun.' He mused as she stopped in front of a cache of coolers.

She grabbed another bottle of Corona and asked, "What do you want? We have everything."

He looked inside the coolers and grabbed a bottle of Red Stripe. Taking out his church key from his pocket, he first opened her beer then his own.

"Isn't that sweet." She cooed at him. "A real gentleman."

Flashing her a smile he said, "My mama raised me right."

At the mention of his mother, a haunted look came over his features briefly. Courtney saw it immediately and filed that bit of information inside her very complex mind for later. Realizing the sadness in his eyes, she led him over to a quieter spot near the bungalow and sat down. Greg flopped down beside her and took a swig of the harsh Jamaican beer.

"Ah, haven't had one of these in years." He sighed with satisfaction as the taste was exactly like he remembered from his first trip to Jamaica.

Scrunching up her face, Courtney asked, "How can you like that shit?"

"Some buddies and I went to Jamaica after graduation. It was the only beer they had to drink and after a week of drinking, it tastes pretty good. Plus it brings back memories you know." He explained before taking another big gulp.

"As long as you like it." She said flippantly. "So what brings you here?"

"Well." Greg stated after a moment. "I was mighty hungry."

"No silly." Courtney chided, shoving him playfully. "To the island."

"Just enjoying myself." Greg said, leaning back on his elbows in the sand. "A much needed vacation from everyone."

"Everyone huh?" She asked. "You came here by yourself?"

"Yep all alone." He said laughing at her bluntness. "But I'm use to that."

"I could never go on vacation by myself." She declared.

"Since you can't find your friend. Technically you are here by yourself." Greg said with a grin.

"Oh brother." She said with a slight southern drawl. "But I came with her so I am not by myself."

"Interesting logic you have there."

"That's me. I'm very interesting." She replied as she made a face as she gulped the last of the beer through her straw. Looking over at him she stretched. Never taking her eyes off him, she thrust her breasts out further till they threatened to fall out of her skimpy top.

"Oh shit." She cursed loudly. "You were right."

Greg looked at her with one eyebrow raised. "Right about what?"

"Not you." She murmured. "Fucking Justin. He's always right."

"Okay." Greg said slowly and somewhat sarcastically. "Do you always talk to people who aren't there?"

Flipping him the middle finger, she explained, "He said you were gay but I didn't believe him."

He stammered out, "I'm not gay. What ever gave you that idea?"

"Of course you are." She stated matter-of-factly as she patted him on the knee.

His mind raced back over the conversation they had, trying desperately to figure out what he had said to make her believe that. Not finding anything, he asked, "What makes you so sure?"

"You do." She answered with a smile. "I've been sitting her talking to you for fifteen minutes and you haven't once looked at my tits."

"So, that just means I'm a gentleman." He said emphatically.

"Oh really." She stated and held up her hand. "For one, when I just stretched. I purposely shoved my tits right in your face and you looked away. Secondly, I'm not ugly. And thirdly, you have been only looking at the guys around here and not any women."

He had to laugh at the smug look on her face, like she was proud of her deducting skills. She added, "I don't care don't worry. I'm not offended or anything. I always seem to like the gay boys. Maybe it's because they take better care of themselves."

He chuckled, "I didn't think I was that obvious. I should learn to be more careful and stare at all these titties around me."

"Oh great. You went from being gay and cool to being straight and an asshole in two seconds flat." She said sarcastically.

"How about this?" He offered. "Check out that guys ass over there. He's so hot." He pointed randomly at one of the men playing volleyball.

"That's better sweetie." She said, again patting him on the knee.

"Hey Courtney." Greg said as he searched for the dancer again. Musing silently, `I wonder where he got off too. He really did have a nice ass.'

She looked at him for a second, sadness flashing in her green eyes as she admonished, "I'm sorry I lied to you."

"Lied? About what?" He asked.

"Well. Because...I didn't come here with a friend either. No, I mean I did come here with a friend but my friend and I are the ones throwing this party." She explained with a wince, not sure how he would take the admission. "And my name isn't Courtney either."

Seeing the childlike need for acceptance on her face, he smiled and asked pleasantly, "If Courtney isn't your real name, what would you like me to call you?"

A look of relief exploded across her face and she squealed loudly and said, `Britney, you can call me Britney."

"Okay Britney. Nice to meet you." Greg said as he shook her hand again. "And I have a confession to make as well."

"Don't tell me you lied about your name too?" She asked in disbelief.

"Nope." He said with a laugh. "I was looking at your tits. I've been trying to figure out if they're real or not."

"Asshole." She screamed as she punched him playfully on the shoulder. Then adding, "So am I forgiven?"

"Sure. After all, you are going to feed me right?" He asked, rubbing his stomach like a starving man.

Giggling, she stood up, "What do you want to eat?"

"First things first." He stated as he stood up. "Who is this Justin guy and how did he know I was gay?"
"Men." She said with disgust. "I should just become a lesbian and get it over with."

Pulling him towards the bungalow, she explained, "Justin is my friend who is helping me throw this party. And his gaydar is never wrong or at least so he claims."

"Sounds like a good guy to me." Greg stated as he searched the people milling around the beach. "Which one is he?"

"He's around doing something naughty I'm sure. Probably looking at a mirror admiring himself." She stated blandly pointing in the direction of the bungalow. "But I'm sure he'll make his presence known to you soon. Now lets see if the food is ready yet. I can't wait to eat so I can throw it all up later on tonight after everyone else passes out."

He couldn't help but like the fiery blonde woman. Her sense of humor shocked him continuously but also drew him towards her. For the first time in his life, he knew without a doubt he was 100% gay. If there was any woman he could be attracted too, it was definitely Britney.

He followed her over towards the fire pit where they had a chef busy cooking up island favorites for everyone. "I can't believe you have a private chef here."

"We only throw the best parties." She said with a grin. "Appearances are important you know."

"But very deceiving." Greg stated with a grin.

After loading up three plates full of food, they found a quiet place to eat. As they chatted and ate, he found himself opening up to the blonde faster than he had with anyone. Wishing he had had a sister while growing up, he soon began telling her all about his childhood. Without even knowing it, she had broken through his defenses.

During dinner, he had several more beers and by the time they were finished, he was working on a good buzz. The sadness of the past few weeks disappearing in the wake of meeting Britney. He found himself having fun without having to fake it.

All the activity had stopped during dinner but had quickly resumed. The resort staff had lined the volleyball pit with torches and with the fading sun in the background, it was lit up bright as day. He was asked if he would like to join in a game and his buzz answered for him. After picking teams, he found himself shirtless playing volleyball in the sand. For a while he lost himself in the pleasure of the game. He wasn't the best player on the beach but his team quickly realized he was the main reason they had won every game. His natural ability for sports and sheer enthusiasm helped them score point after point.

As the sun slipped down below the horizon, most became too tired or too drunk to continue playing. So Greg found himself searching the beach for Britney. After a few minutes, he found her off to one side in a conversation with some cute guy. She waved at him before turning back to the guy. Shrugging his shoulders, he grabbed another beer and headed towards the surf. He felt grimy and dirty from sweating and the sand that covered most of his body. All he wanted to do was take a quick dip in the ocean to rinse off the grime. He shivered as the surf pounded his legs. But that sensation faded quickly and he dove headfirst into the salty surf. Though it was only deep enough to came to his waist, he started rinsing off the sand from his body and his hair. While he stood there running his hands through his hair, a large wave crashed over his head. Since he wasn't expecting it, he got a mouthful of water and a burning sensation in his eyes. Stumbling as he walked towards the shore, he felt himself falling forwards. Instinctively his hands reached out for anything to break his fall. His hands landed on someone's chest and he felt two hands circle his waist, steadying him.

"Thanks." He stuttered, spitting out water.

"Anytime, I'll always catch you when you fall." Came the reply.

Managing to get his balance, he wiped the water from his eyes and stared at his savior. In the moonlight, his eyes focused on that face. Earlier that evening, that angelic face had captivated him. But up close, he realized it wasn't an angel's face at all. But it was as close as a human could hope to be. The dancer had a face that was ruggedly handsome yet boyish at the same time. His pink lips were full and parted slightly, begging to be kissed hard. A small goatee nestled just at the end of his jaw that gave him an awkward appearance that hinted at the man he would become. His blue eyes reflected the ocean as the moonlight framed his face.

"Hi." Greg stated, never taking his eyes off the dancer.

Smiling as he returned Greg's gaze intently, he said softly, "Hi yourself."

The smile made his eyes all the more angelic and Greg couldn't help but returning it. They stood there, staring at each other as the surf crashed again and again against their legs. Finally, the dancer asked, "Are you okay?"

He still hadn't taken his hands from around Greg's waist and at the moment, Greg didn't much care. "I think so. Water got in my eyes."

"Oh." Came the reply with a laugh. "I thought you were drunk and couldn't walk."

"Not hardly." Greg snorted, blushing at the sound. "I had a buzz until that wave hit me. It left pretty fast."

"What's your name?" He asked as he shifted his grip on Greg's hips but still didn't let go.

"Greg."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Justin." The dancer said with a grin.

Feeling like a fool at not putting two and two together, he shook his head. Of course the one person he wanted to meet would be Britney's friend. Which would explain why he couldn't find him earlier, he was in the bungalow.

"Thank for letting me stay at your party. I know I just crashed it but I was feeling a bit lonely." He admitted, again blushing at his babbling.

"No problem." Justin answered. "We can't have you being lonely on vacation now can we?"

"I guess not."

"Well." Just said as he removed his hands from Greg's hips. "You look a bit chilly. Do you want a dry shirt to wear?"

"Sure." Greg said, noticing for the first time Justin had covered his chest with a shirt. "That would be cool."

"Okay. Grab a couple beers and meet me over there." Justin stated as he pointed to a couple of boulders that were jutting out from the beach a few yards away. "I'll go and get you a shirt from the house."

Walking over to the coolers, he grabbed a six-pack of Red Stripe and a six-pack of Corona. As he walked back towards the beach, Britney waved him over to where she sat with a different guy. "So you finally met him did you." She stated with a smile.

"If Justin is the him your talking about then yes I did." Greg replied with a grin. He suddenly felt giddy and wasn't sure of the reason.

Britney patted the guy's knees next to her and introduced them, "Greg, this is Adam. Adam, this is Greg, the one I was telling you about."

Juggling the two six-packs in his hands, he offered one hand and said, "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise." Adam replied in a bored voice.

"I don't know what she could have been saying about me since I only just met her but I'm pretty sure it was all lies." Greg stated with a grin as he dodged her attempt at smacking his leg.

"That wasn't nice." Britney said as she tried for his leg again. "I've been telling him about how much you're in love with my friend." She said as she stuck out her tongue at the elusive Greg who had managed to dodge all her attempts at smacking him.

"Funny." Greg replied drolly. "Don't let this one go Adam, she's a real fucking comedian."

"I don't plan to but she's hard to nail down." Adam answered with a grin.

"Funny you say that. I wouldn't think she would be all that hard to nail at all." Greg implied over his shoulder as he started towards the beach.

She jumped up and leaped onto his back. The un-expected weight of the beautiful woman and the unevenness of the sand caused him to lose his balance and the two of them tumbled to the ground. Standing up, she put one foot on Greg's back and raised her arms over her hand and did a bad imitation of the famous Tarzan scream. Adam was laughing so hard he fell back into the sand clutching his sides. Greg grunted from the weight of Britney's foot on his back and as he tried to knock it off, she stood on his back and declared, "I win, I win."

"See Greg. You should never turn your back on a girl."

"Especially that girl." Justin said with a grin as he walked up holding a shirt in one hand. "She can be a real devious bitch."

Giving him the finger, she jumped off Greg's back and right into the arms of Adam. Rolling over, Greg gave her an evil glare that she ignored while giving him the most innocent face she could muster. Unfortunately, her grin spoiled the effect and Greg just lay there shaking his head.

Justin reached down and helped him to his feet saying to Britney, "Sometimes I wonder why I hang out with you."

Brushing off the sand from his chest, Greg offered, "Someone has to befriend the handicap."

"Yeah and they're fun to watch." Adam replied with a huge grin splitting his face.

"Oh you're going to get it now." Britney declared as she started tickling him mercilessly.

Justin helped gather up the beer and looked over at the twosome. From where he was standing, it looked like Adam was going to be "getting it" for the rest of the night. Turning to Greg, he smiled and said, "Come on, let's leave the breeders alone."

Smiling, Greg followed Justin as he headed towards the beach. It was turning out to be a very eventful night.

To Be Continued

Copyright©2002 Glacier Boy/Burning Angel