Note:Don't read this if you think of Justin and JC as little angels fallen from heaven. Otherwise, you're welcome. This is a lot darker than anything I've written before, and, since Justin won't be mommy's darling in my next story, I decided that this time, it was JC's turn to be the bad boy. Don't like it, don't read it.
Rating: NC-17 for adult themes such as sex and harsh language
Paring: JC Chasez/Justin Timberlake
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own, don't imply. Blah.
"No. I don't want to."
"You know you like it, Justin."
"Yes, you do."
"No. I hate it that you come to me every night for a quick fuck and then leave without another word, and the next morning, you act as if nothing happened, as if you didn't have your dick up my ass last night. And the night before, and also the one before that."
"Just admit that you like it. You like being a whore, Justin."
"Yes, you do. You like it when I fuck you, you like it so much that you scream my name. You're such a slut that you're able to come just from being fucked. I don't even have to touch your cock to make you come."
"I can't do this anymore. It's over, JC."
"What, you're trying to end this? You don't have the strength to do it, Justin."
"Get out of my room, JC. Now. And unless you decide to give a little instead of always taking you'd better not come back."
"You don't mean this."
"Is that why you're sporting a major hard-on?"
"Don't touch me."
"Now, that's something new."
"Get your hands out of my pants. Don't..."
"You never cease to amaze me, Justin."
"No, stop... Oh. Oh God, JC..."
"I knew it. You're not able to resist. You're not strong enough."
"A beautiful whore, Justin, that's what you are."
"On the bed. Spread your legs."
"No, I... don't... want to."
"You do. We both know you do."
"Come on, Justin... Yes, exactly like that. Spread your legs."
"Oh God, JC... Oh..."
"Raise your hips so I can enter you. Good boy."
"You're already close, aren't you?"
"Don't hold it back, Justin. I know how much you like it."
"See. Told you you'd... scream... my name while... you. Come..."
"I'm gonna spill... My seed. Now. In. You... Gonna cum... I'm..."
After their releases, both men lay on the bed for a while, panting, Justin curled up into a ball, facing away from JC, his shoulders shaking. As soon as he had managed to catch his breath, JC got up, cleaning himself and tossing Justin a towel. The younger man didn't react. When JC left the room, he realized that Justin hadn't even tried to kiss him like he usually did. Somehow, it made him feel uneasy.
The next day, JC sat down next to Justin on the couch in the living room of the bus, deliberately brushing their thighs together.
Justin scooted over to the other end of the couch, drawing his knees up to his chest to emphasize the distance between them.
JC leaned his head on Justin's knee.
Justin got up and left the room.
Justin's room was deserted when JC entered it with the spare key. Judging by the neat pile of bags in one corner, Justin hadn't been in here for long. With a shrug, JC went over to the bed and lay down, deciding to wait for the younger man's return.
"What are you doing here?"
The sharp voice jerked JC out of his slumber and he sat up on the bed where he had fallen asleep. He rubbed his eyes and suppressed a yawn. "I've been waiting for you."
"Why?" Justin's eyes were as cold as ice.
"Because I know you want me."
"Get over yourself."
"You need me to get off, Justin."
"Got news for you here, sweetie." Justin had spat out the last word. "I don't need you to get off. I can take care of business by myself just fine."
"Keep telling that to yourself."
The younger man narrowed his eyes. "At least I don't feel like shit after masturbating."
"Who are you trying to convince here? You can't fuck yourself, and that's what you like the most, isn't it?"
"Since when do you know what I like? You only care about what you like."
"I didn't hear you complain when you were writhing underneath me."
"I remember asking you more than once to change positions, but of course you never listened."
"That's because you're the bottom of us."
"Don't bother denying, we both know."
"You think you know."
"I'm not a bottom, Justin, and I'll never be."
"That's right. You're a self-centered prick who doesn't give shit about other people's feelings."
"Still trying to convince yourself that you're better off without me?"
"I don't need to be convinced. I know already."
"Want me to prove that I am totally satisfied with myself?"
"I can make you feel better than your right hand."
Instead of answering, Justin shrugged off his shirt and began slowly, teasingly stroking himself, pinching a nipple which instantly responded to the touch.
JC got up from the bed.
"Don't you dare coming closer, JC."
The brunette stopped, watching Justin sink down on the couch and opening his zipper.
Justin closed his eyes, his hand disappearing in his pants, a quiet moan escaping his lips.
Gaze locked on the show, JC decided that he could step closer now, but Justin's angry voice stopped him.
"Don't you dare, JC."
The younger man let out a series of moans, bucking his hips against his hand, and JC found that he was unable to move, his mouth going dry.
"Oh. God!" Justin's eyes were squeezed shut, his body moving in perfect harmony with his strokes.
JC reached out a hand as if to touch him, then let it fall limply to his side. From the couch, the moans and groans increased in intensity and frequency.
When Justin screamed out his release, JC stepped into the hallway and shut the door behind him.
JC was getting used to entering Justin's room when the occupant wasn't there although it was only the second time it happened. But it was the second time in two days. Intending to stay awake this time, JC traced the pattern of Justin's covers, his hands finding a white, slightly crumpled note. Smoothening it, he scanned the words Justin had left in his neat handwriting.
There was no movement for a few minutes, the brunette stood like a sculpture, staring into space. Then he shook himself out of his trance and left the room just as quietly as he had entered it, leaving a note behind on which only six words were written:
Get out, JC. I mean it.
The next evening, Justin talked Lance into keeping the spare keys.
JC was fine by himself. Really, he was. He didn't need Justin, there were enough other people who were more than ready to jump into bed with him. JC didn't need Justin.
But then, why was he crying?
Justin had never looked better than in the last two weeks. Or maybe it was only JC's imagination, but the brunette didn't think so. He had never seen Justin that happy, it was now a daily occurrence to see him with a smile on his face even early in the mornings. And it hurt.
JC was quite a different matter, though.
Joey shook his head. "C, I didn't think I'd ever say this to you, but you look horrible."
"I'm not saying this to bring you down, but because it's obvious that something's bothering you. I want to help."
"I don't think you can."
"Talking about it may help."
"It doesn't get me back what I screwed up all by myself."
"What are you talking about?"
"You know that song by Janet Jackson, "Got 'Til It's Gone?"?"
"Don't it always seem to go that you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone?"
"Who is gone?"
"You guys were together?"
"No. Because I'm stupid."
"Maybe it's not too late."
"You'll never know unless you try."
Still filled with the energy clubbing and dancing always gave him, Justin left the elevator after Joey and Chris, yelling a cheery 'Good Night' after them.
His smile dropped when he found a sleeping JC sitting at his door, back leaning against the wood in what must have been an extremely uncomfortable position.
Justin nudged him slightly, and blue orbs, still glazed from sleep, opened and soon focused on his face.
"What are you doing here?"
"I was waiting."
"Why?" The conversation sounded strangely familiar to Justin.
"I was worried about you."
"That's a first."
JC got to his feet, staring straight at the younger man in front of him. "Make love to me, Justin. Please."
The keycard dropped along with Justin's jaw.
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