King of the World
by Velma
It was a week before Christmas.
Justin was in New York, had been for a few days, doing some promo spots, getting ready for the New Year's Eve gig, flying solo. Not solo exactly, because Trace and Nick and a whole posse of people were around him, always, but Justin was, for the most part, alone.
He was even sort of getting used to it, the different rhythms of the solo gig, the way everything was about him. *NSYNC came up less and less often, it seemed. People would ask about the other guys, but it was Lance in space or Joey on Broadway, or hey, what's it like to be competing with JC? No one asked much about Chris.
It bugged Justin, at first, and he made it a point to bring up Chris in interviews, talk about how much he missed him, about what a goofball Chris was, and it was true. Justin did miss him. But the physical distance had started to extend into other things and somewhere in the last couple months Chris's constant phone calls had started to taper off until they'd fallen to about once a week, the kind of obligatory call you give your parents to let them know you're alive and not in jail.
Justin was on the way into his hotel when his phone rang. Right on time.
"Yeah?" he grunted into the phone, "man, Chris what is it? I'm tired. I'm on vacation."
"Hey," Chris said, and there was something weird in his voice that Justin couldn't quite put his finger on. "Dude, I was just calling to check in on you. See how that was going. You gonna make it down here for my little soiree or what?"
Justin paused for a minute, his mind backtracking to last week, when they'd all been up in the city together for the wax thing. Chris's holiday party. Right.
"I dunno," Justin said, picking at his jeans. "I'm booked solid, and there's this party in New York City and I've got to get ready for the Dick Clark bullshit, and then I've got to haul ass to Memphis, and yeah. The schedule's pretty tight, man. I'm gonna try, though. Swear, Chris. Seriously."
"Right," Chris sighed, and Justin could hear him trying to control his disappointment. Which sucked. Justin never wanted to do that with Chris, not Chris, who'd always had his back. But it was true that he had a lot of stuff to do, and truth be told Chris threw some pretty pathetic parties and mostly Justin was scared to go. Scared that the increasingly awkward silences meant that he was losing his best friend. Scared that if he showed up at Chris's they'd have nothing left to say to each other.
It didn't seem possible, that things could come to that point. Justin knew he was hiding. From Chris. From himself. Truth be told, there were things he didn't want to admit to himself, and Chris was all tied up in that.
"Chris..."
"No, J. I understand, man. You got obligations now, you big superstar, you," Chris laughed into the phone. "Just remember, I'm free to be your roadie when it comes time to tour. My knees may suck but I can still test a mic like the best of them."
Justin laughed, too, and then for a little while it actually was easy and good and like old times and not the usual quiet strain of late. Justin missed it more than he'd ever let on. He was way too proud. Besides, this was what he was supposed to be doing. He was twenty-one. Time to grow up. He didn't need to be Chris's wingman anymore. And really, it'd been the other way around for a long time. Chris must have gotten tired of that, too.
"So," Justin hummed into the phone, "we'll see then. The other guys, they're gonna make it, right?"
Chris swallowed. "Everyone's pretty busy, so. I'm not sure. We'll see. Quiet year. I'm looking forward to it, actually."
"Yeah," Justin said, and the conversation was suddenly all kinds of awkward and he needed to get out. "Hey, listen, I gotta..."
"Didn't mean to keep you," Chris said. "Busy, busy man. Give me a shout if you're coming down, okay? And if I don't catch up with you before then, have a good Christmas, huh?"
"Of course, Chris, you too," Justin said, and hung up the phone. It rang again, and he picked it up, sighing, "Look, Chris..."
But it wasn't Chris. It was Jive with more sales numbers, and Justin was grinning before the call ended, his conversation with Chris pushed to the backburner.
**
There was golf on television, so Justin settled in to watch. Tiger was playing, and Justin drifted off to the sounds of the announcers dissecting his swing. It seemed like he'd just closed his eyes when he felt someone shaking him.
"Wake up, you lazy ass."
Justin's eyes shot open, and he blinked them into focus. He blinked again, because what he was seeing made no sense. "Ryan?" He sat up. Ryan Gosling. Grinning at him like an idiot before he turned and headed over to the mini bar.
"Guilty as charged, J. My, my, my. Scotch. Quite refined now, aren't we?"
Justin watched as he poured himself a healthy glass, and rubbed his eyes. "How. What. Ryan, what are you doing here?"
"Oh, I'm not really here, Justin. I'm just a figment of your subconscious. Which, I have to say, is pretty worried about you."
"Um," Justin said. "Uh."
"Poetic as ever, I see. It's no wonder you sell all those records."
"Okay, seriously. That's the last time I ever let Trace buy the weed."
"You're not high, you're not tripping, if it makes you feel better, you're sound asleep," Ryan said. "Although, for the record? Yeah. Never let Trace buy anything you want to consume. Just a word to the wise."
Justin's eyes fell to the television. Tiger was still going at it. This had to be the weirdest dream ever.
"Anyway," Ryan pulled up a chair, taking a healthy swallow of his drink. He nodded his appreciation. "This is great stuff, Justin. Pays to have good taste, I guess. But, yes. That's not why I'm here."
"So, wait," Justin said. "You're here for a reason?"
"We're all here for a reason, Justin. And yes, I am. I wanted to give you a heads up on some company headed your way."
Justin eyed him warily. Ryan laughed.
"Three visitors, to be precise. Just some people who want to help you get a perspective on things.
Justin pinched the bridge of his nose. Then pinched harder. "I'm not waking myself up because?"
Ryan shrugged and looked down at his drink. "Your head, man."
"Three visitors, huh?"
"Yep. Someone thinks you need a kick in the pants, maybe? I don't know. Nobody tells me anything."
"Yeah, yeah, you just work here, I remember." Justin smiled.
"That's my boy," Ryan said. "Keep smiling, J. You're going to need it."
Justin turned away for a moment, distracted by the announcers on the television. Tiger had an eagle on the tenth hole. When he looked back, Ryan was gone.
"Weird ass dream," he muttered under his breath, settling back in to watch the tournament.
It wasn't long, though, before there was an insistent knocking on his door. He walked over, opened it, and backed away slowly.
"I was kidding about the video, Brit. Seriously. You know. All in good fun. Please tell me you don't have a gun."
Britney rolled her eyes at him and pushed inside. Justin shivered as she walked past him. She was really cold.
"Um, Britney? Lovely as it is to see you and all, the time when you could just waltz into my hotel room was, well, pretty much never, but if there ever was such a time it's past."
"Who says you're not smart?" Britney said, sitting down delicately. "That's exactly why I'm here."
"For the last time, B, I do not want to get back together."
"You should be so lucky, Justin. Look, just bear with me. A little bit of your time and I'll be out of your hair."
"I need a drink," Justin said, heading for the bar.
"Nope," she said, standing up and taking his hand. He had to fight not to wrench it away. She was freezing.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
She wrinkled her nose at him. "The past is dead, Justin. Cold and solid as granite. But that doesn't mean we can't learn anything from it."
"Ooookay. I'm just gonna," he tried to extract his hand, "make a quick phone call, Brit."
"For the last time, Justin, no." Britney started to pull him toward a door. "We've got places to see."
"That's, uh. That's the closet," he said.
She grinned at him over her shoulder. "I know. Fitting, I think." She opened the door and pushed him inside.
**
Justin blinked. He blinked again, and looked down at Britney, who was still grinning at him. "What is this?"
"It's the dressing room you guys had before the 1999 VMAs, Justin. And that, dear boy, is you."
Justin turned his head and gaped.
"I'm never going to make it through this," Justin muttered under his breath, glaring at his reflection in the mirror. His hair was stupid and the outfit was stupid and everything was going to go to hell and this was how they were going to go out. He knew it.
"Hey," Chris's voice startled him. "Easy there, Justin. Just me." Chris reached around him and Justin sucked in a deep breath. Chris grabbed some gel and rubbed it in his palms, then started working it through Justin's hair. "Relax, okay? It's going to be fine. Just a performance, like any other."
Justin's eyes shut. "Chris," he whispered, "what if. I mean..."
"C'mon," Chris said, "that back corner over there has our name all over it."
"I remember this," Justin said softly, stepping past the couch where JC was collapsed on top of Joey, watching Lance make a half-assed attempt at juggling. “It was before the lawsuit story broke and we were all failing miserably at trying to pretend nothing was wrong."
Britney didn't say anything. She just watched him.
Justin's eyes drifted to where Chris and Justin were huddled together, and he walked closer to eavesdrop.
"Have I ever lied to you?" Chris asked. Justin shook his head. "I'm not now, either. Whatever happens, Justin. We're still a group. And you and I?" Chris smiled. "Still attached at the hip. No lawsuit's going to change that, and Lou sure as hell can't take that away."
Justin ducked his head, flushing, and Chris reached up, cupped his chin and lifted it, ran a careful thumb along the warm skin. "I mean that, J. You'll always have me. No matter what."
Justin closed his eyes and turned into the touch, wanted to say something, but he didn't. He just swallowed and nodded. On impulse, he opened his eyes and leaned forward, kissing Chris softly on the lips before he moved back to the mirror.
Chris gaped.
Justin touched his mouth, as if the ghost of that brief contact could still be felt there. "Pretty foolish, back then."
"Were you?" Britney asked softly. "I don't know. You were less afraid."
"Less afraid? What on earth do I have to be afraid of?"
Britney looked at him pointedly before walking over and standing behind the other, younger Justin. She reached out and tucked a piece of hair into place, and that Justin shivered, crinkling his nose.
"You were more honest with yourself. You were more honest with them. Or maybe not." She turned and repeated the action with Justin's hair. She turned his head so he was watching Chris. Who was watching his younger self. Intently. "You didn't tell him, that's for sure."
"Nothing to tell," he said, looking away.
"Oh, Justin," she sighed. "I hope it's worth it."
"What?" he asked.
She just shook her head sadly and started for the door. Justin followed but was distracted by a shout. He turned and watched as
Chris shoved Justin on top of Lance, tackling both of them and pulling JC, then Joey down into the pile. The undercurrent of tension that had been crackling in the room disappeared in that moment, as the five of them grinned at each other.
They stayed like that, the five of them, resting against each other while they warmed up their voices. They got to their feet, finished getting dressed, and huddled then, a few words of prayer before they started for the stage.
Chris hung behind, took Justin's hand and squeezed. "Trust me," he said.
"Always," Justin smiled, eyes sure.
"Always," Justin murmured. He turned to look for Britney and found himself on the couch again, staring at the TV.
He rubbed his face. "Man. This is some fucked up shit."
**
He'd almost managed to convince himself it was all one strange dream when he heard knocking on his door again. He ignored it for as long as possible before he heard the lock click open and he jumped to his feet.
"What the?"
Johnny appeared from the other side of the door, waving a key card. "Pays to be the manager," he winked, stepping inside.
Justin frowned. "You're not supposed to be here, man. You're down in Orlando."
"Apparently not," Johnny shrugged. "My job is to put out fires, right? Make sure you guys have what you need. So I'm here."
Justin eyed him skeptically. "Who sent you?"
"You did," Johnny said. "You know, this self-analysis stuff is great, but really, if you have issues you might want to seek the help of a professional. I'm your manager, not your shrink."
"I don't need help!"
"That's not what you think," Johnny grinned.
Justin's eyebrows furrowed. "Wait. What?"
"Come on, come on, we have a schedule to keep, Justin, and you know how I am about schedules." He put his arm around Justin's shoulder.
"We're not going into the closet, are we?" Justin asked.
Johnny raised an eyebrow at him. "That's really none of my business. No talk of closets around me, thanks. Blissfully unaware."
They walked out of the hotel room and into the dressing room backstage at the Teen People showcase.
Justin sighed. "You could have warned me, at least."
"I think someone did that already, "Johnny laughed. "Besides, the look on your face? Priceless."
Justin scanned the room, but he wasn't there. Chris was, though, slouched low on the sofa across the back of the room, talking on the phone. Justin moved closer.
"Yeah, he's doing "Gone", I guess. Part of the showcase." Chris sighed. "No, I know. Dude, C, I know, I'm aware, but whatever. It's his gig. And his song, so."
There was a pause.
"Christ, I'm not apologizing for him. Look, I don't. I don't know what to tell you here. No. Jayce, stop." Chris's voice got icy.
"I'm not. I haven't felt like that for years and he doesn't and. I can't lose what was never there to begin with. Just. Drop it, okay?"
Justin frowned and sat down next to Chris, trying to listen to the other end of the conversation, too.
"I can do split screen, if you'd like," Johnny said, moving closer. "Go for the full effect?" Justin closed his eyes and nodded, and when he opened them there was JC on one side, in his house in L.A., and Chris on the other.
"I won't drop it," JC said. "I won't, Chris. I've watched you take care of him for years. I've watched you be his friend and want more. He's running, man. From you, from us. He's running, and I think maybe you're the only one that can stop him."
"He's not running from anything, Chasez," Chris said. "He's committed to the group."
"It's not the group I'm worried about," JC said gently. Chris winced.
"I won't ask him for what he can't give, JC. I won't be that guy."
"Chris, it's not like Justin's never been with..."
"Don't," Chris said. "Just don't say it, okay?"
"Yeah. Okay. Just. Do yourself a favor and stop setting yourself up for hurt, then?"
Chris laughed weakly. "I'll do my best. I've gotta. Introductions soon. I need to get ready."
"Talk to you soon, Mr. Kirkpatrick. Take care."
"You, too, Mr. Chasez." Chris hung up.
The split-screen disappeared and Justin jerked his eyes away, started to get up when Johnny laid a hand on his shoulder. "There's more."
"But I," Justin said, looking from Johnny to where Chris was rubbing his temples. He looked old. "Johnny, he never said. I didn't. It's not just..." He fell silent as he watched himself come into the room.
Chris stood up. "Hey, J. JC sends his best. Wishes he was here and everything, but you know. Radio interviews and promos."
Justin flashed him a grin. "Don't I know it. That stuff doesn't end.." His phone rang. "One second, Chris," he flipped his phone open, talking excitedly. "Rodney, yeah, man. No, no. Not interrupting anything. Just getting ready for this Teen People thing. Sure, I've got some time..."
Chris watched Justin's back, his expression unreadable. After a few minutes, Justin hung up his phone and walked over to Chris, grinning as he pulled him into a hug. "Sorry, man. I didn't mean to be rude."
"Don't worry about it, J. Listen," Chris swallowed, shifting nervously. "I was hoping maybe we could talk..."
Justin's phone chirped again. He glanced down at it and grimaced, looking up at Chris apologetically. "I'm sorry, Chris. I really have to take this." He turned his back, talking about some radio spot as he wandered to the other side of the room.
Chris waited for a few more minutes before he headed off backstage.
"I didn't. Johnny," Justin turned, shaking his head. "I didn't mean to blow him off, it's not like. I wasn't trying to hurt him."
"I know," Johnny patted his shoulder. "He knows, too."
"But he'd never say anything." Justin was miserable. This wasn't how this was supposed to go. They'd gotten distant, yeah, but. He wasn't supposed to be hurting Chris.
"This is fucked," Justin said.
"Watch your language," Johnny replied. "We're in public."
Justin looked up and saw himself singing. Chris was standing next to him, watching. Justin watched Chris watching him, watched the way he smiled, and flinched a little when Justin reached a little too far, chiding him under his breath. Chris never said those things to Justin's face. Maybe because he thought they'd fall on deaf ears.
Maybe they did.
"Can I? I think this is enough. Don't you? I mean, I get it." Justin looked away. Johnny pulled back the curtain and Justin found himself in Chris's den. "This is not exactly what I meant."
Johnny shrugged. "I'm not really running the show here."
Chris walked into the room, talking on his cell. "Everyone's pretty busy, so. I'm not sure. We'll see. Quiet year. I'm looking forward to it, actually." He paused and listened for a moment, his eyes heavy. "Didn't mean to keep you. Busy, busy man. Give me a shout if you're coming down, okay? And if I don't catch up with you before then, have a good Christmas, huh?"
"That was earlier today," Justin said. Johnny nodded.
Chris hung up the phone and stared at it, then dialed another number. "Hey, Mom, it's me. I'm thinking about maybe not doing a holiday thing here, this year. I thought, you know, your place. A little quieter, more intimate or whatever. My friends are all annoying and obnoxious and drink too much booze anyway. Hey, did you hear about Justin, performing with Dick Clark on New Year's? Crazy, huh? He's really in the majors now. Yeah. So, hey. I'm going to stop babbling at your answering machine. Call me when you get this. Love you."
"He's not going to have his party?" Justin asked. "He always does."
Johnny shrugged. "Joey's still in New York, JC's out in L.A. doing some studio work, and Lance is off doing whatever it is Lance does when he's not in the public eye and," Johnny held up his hands, "I don't want to know about that, either. Ron's out in New Mexico with a bunch of his other friends, and Chris actually has pretty high standards for his fiestas, believe it or not."
Justin flushed, and walked over to where Chris was standing. Chris's eyes were far off, and then they were closed, and Justin found himself unable to stomach the blankness there. "Did I do this?" he asked softly, gaze unwavering.
"We all make choices," Johnny said, not unkindly. "He's made his, too."
Justin closed his eyes and leaned forward, felt a physical jolt when his lips met Chris's, but when he opened his eyes he realized Chris hadn't felt anything.
"You're not really here," Johnny said gently. "It's time to go."
"I don't want to," Justin said. "I can't leave him like this..."
Johnny smiled. "'Fraid so, kid. Come on." He reached for Justin.
Who found himself back in his suite. Tiger was working on the fourteenth hole now. Justin rubbed his hands over his arms. Someone else was coming, and he found himself increasingly cold.
He sat down on the couch to wait.
**
Justin must have dozed off, because when the hand clamped down on his shoulder, Tiger was on the seventeenth hole. Almost finished.
"Ow," Justin said, as his shoulder began to protest. "Ow, you don't have to," he tipped his head back to see who was there. "Wade?! Wait. WADE?!"
Wade shrugged and pulled Justin to his feet.
"Jesus," Justin wrenched away. "You don't have to be so mean about it. If there's anyone here who has a right to be physically abusive it's me."
Wade rolled his eyes.
"What, so I get the silent treatment? Oh, typical. This is so typical of you, Wade. I could remind you that you're the one who slept with my girlfriend, betrayed my trust, and, you know. Messed with my head." Wade just looked at him. "Fine, whatever. Let's just get this over with." Justin crossed his arms, scowling.
Wade steered him toward the bathroom.
Justin groaned. "Okay, I get it. In the future, my life's in the toilet. Did you have to be quite so literal?"
Wade sighed wearily.
**
Justin blinked. He wasn't sure where he was, except it was another dressing room again. He glanced at Wade, who was staring straight ahead. Okay, no help there. He walked around the room and finally found a program laying on the floor. 2004 Grammys. He smiled, paging through it.
"I'm nominated," he grinned wider. "Album of the year. Holy shit." He looked to Wade for some sort of reaction but there was none. The door opened, and he turned.
Justin walked into the room, his face drawn, all alone. He glanced at himself in the mirror, made a face, and sat down heavily in a chair.
There was a soft knock at the door. Justin swore softly, but got up and answered, head down. "Look, I know I have to get some makeup done, but can you just come back in..." he trailed off as he looked up. Chris was standing there.
"Hey," Chris shifted uncomfortably. "I just came back to go over the introduction thing. They gave me a script, said it was what you wanted. I didn't. It doesn't sound like me, I just wanted to make sure they'd run it by you."
"Yeah," Justin stepped back and let Chris inside. "It's better this way. No chance for screw-ups."
"Right," Chris said. "Okay, then. I'm sure you have to get ready."
Justin nodded.
"What is this?" Justin asked Wade. "Chris and I are never like this. It doesn't make sense. It's awkward. And wrong."
Wade just kept watching.
"Joey and Lance are introducing JC. So we're all here. Sitting together, a few rows back from you. In case you were curious," Chris said.
Justin nodded again.
Chris sighed. "Okay, then. Good luck out there." He turned to leave.
Justin looked like he wanted to say something, like he physically had to stop himself from doing so.
"You idiot," Justin got in his own face, waving his hands. "Don't just let him walk out the door. God. How could you?"
The door clicked shut softly. Justin put his head in his hands. "Fuck. Just. Fuck."
"Fuck is right." Justin looked at Wade. "There's no way this happens. None. I wouldn't let it get that bad. Chris wouldn't let it get that bad. We always said, we said," his voice was increasingly desperate, "no matter what we'd be friends. The rest of it's. I can't lose that, Wade. I can't."
Wade shrugged and turned, opening the door. Justin followed him, only to find himself in the audience, watching himself perform. He was distracted for a moment by it. He was ever the consummate performer, and the performance was good, but those eyes. He didn't love what he was doing anymore, that much was clear.
"I don't like this," Justin whispered, only to find Wade looking just past him. Justin turned, and there were the guys, watching him on stage.
Justin sucked in a breath. You didn't even have to know them well to know that the smiles plastered across their faces were artificial. He swallowed hard and moved closer. He could see Chris mouthing the words softly under his breath, eyes following Justin as he moved.
He kneeled down in front of Chris, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Chris." Chris looked past him, unseeing. "Chris, Jesus. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."
The performance ended, and Justin watched as Lance rolled his eyes before getting to his feet, the rest of them following suit.
Despite everything, Chris still cheered the loudest.
"I'm sorry," Justin whispered, reaching out to touch Chris's cheek. Chris flinched and drew back, and Justin pulled his hand back like he'd been burned.
"I want to go back," he said to Wade. "I've had enough of this. Fucking take me back." He grabbed Wade by the collar, shaking him. "Goddamn you, this is enough. I want to go back."
Wade shrugged, dead eyes staring straight through Justin.
Justin launched himself at Wade, and woke as he hit the hotel room floor. On the television, Tiger sank the winning putt.
**
It was a little less than a week from Christmas, and Justin stood outside the front door of Chris's house. He had a tape under his arm Joey had thrown together, Christmases past, a highlight reel of sorts. He was supposed to call later in the afternoon. JC had called from the road, and was picking Lance up on the way. Justin had managed to talk Ron into making a flight back to Florida, and Bev had taken care of the rest of the invite list. He had a trunk full of food, and liquor, and all the makings of a party.
He rang the bell.
Chris opened the door and blinked at him. "Justin?"
"Hey," Justin flashed a grin and pushed past him. "Someone said something about a party?"
Chris looked confused as hell. "Justin, I. You're in New York."
"Uh, no, Chris. Actually, I'm in Miami. Will Smith did a kicking song about it. You wanna hear?"
Chris shook his head. "Justin, there isn't. There's no party. You should have called. I would have told you. You didn't need to come all this way."
"There is a party, actually, and your guests will be arriving within the hour. So," Justin sniffed, "shower."
Chris nodded, dumbfounded, and headed upstairs. Justin busied himself setting things up, hauling stuff in from the car, and tried not to think about what he'd come there to say.
He didn't hear Chris come back downstairs, so he jumped when Chris cleared his throat, spinning around and flushing. "Oh."
"Is that mistletoe?" Chris asked.
"Shut up," Justin grumbled.
"Justin," Chris approached him cautiously. "Not like I'm not happy to see you or anything, but, uh. This is rather unexpected and, you know. What gives? You're not, like. Dying or anything, are you? Moving to Nepal to find yourself? Because, really, I'm not prepared to have any less of you in my life than there is already."
Justin grimaced.
"Dude, I'm sorry. Jesus, I'm sorry, Justin. I didn't mean..."
"No," Justin interrupted. "No, Chris. Don't be sorry. Maybe things would be better if you told me more about what you were thinking in the first place."
Chris nodded slowly. "Yeah, okay. That's probably fair. I just. I know you're busy, and this is what you've always wanted, and I'm going to stop talking now."
Justin smiled and bumped his shoulder. "I've been an absolute asshole, Chris, and it's a wonder you're even still talking to me..."
"J."
He held up his hand. "No, man. I was pretty much forced to see the reality of what's been happening between us, and Chris, man. It blows. You're my best friend. No matter what else is going on, that should never come second. To anything. And if for a minute I let you think that, that it was something I could let just fall away, then Jesus. Jesus, Chris, I'm sorry, and it's not true, and I do need you and don't let me slip away, Chris. Please."
"Woah," Chris sat down on the couch. "Wow, Justin. Where did that come from?"
Justin shook his head. "It doesn't matter. What matters is that you know that you, the guys, you all. I'm not walking away from that. I never meant for you to think that. I just got caught up in everything, and distracted and it's not going to happen anymore."
"Okay. Okay, Justin, okay. We're good. I swear," Chris smiled. "I promise."
Justin pulled him to his feet and hugged him tightly. "God, I missed you. I missed you so much, Chris." He inhaled, his fingers curling into Chris's shirt.
"Missed you, too, J," Chris's voice was laced with concern. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yeah," Justin smiled weakly. "But there's more to say, Chris. Stuff I should have said a long time ago."
Chris eyed him warily.
"You remember the VMAs, right before the lawsuit? I was so nervous, man."
"Wound tighter than a drum," Chris smiled, nodding. "Why?"
Justin paused, his cheeks coloring. "You remember when I kissed you?"
The smile drained from Chris's face. "Justin..."
"You remember, Chris?"
"Yeah," Chris said tersely. "Yeah, I remember."
"So do I," Justin whispered. "I wanted to do a lot more, Chris."
"Justin..." Chris's voice was low, warning.
"I did, Chris. I did, but I was scared. We had the lawsuit and everything was happening and I just. I managed to convince myself that it was silly and stupid and a crush that would go away."
Chris looked away.
"But it wasn't, Chris. It wasn't silly or stupid and as much as I've tried it hasn't gone away."
"Why are you doing this, Justin?"
"Because I should have done it a long time ago."
"Why now, Justin?" Chris's eyes searched Justin's face, looking for the joke he seemed sure was there.
"It's not too late, Chris. It's never too late to change. To make your own future. I just. I know that has to be the case. I know there's a chance here. I know we can make things different."
"Justin? Seriously, man, what happened to you?"
"New lease on life, or something," Justin said. "A wakeup call. Tiger won another tournament and I got a kick in the ass. I don't know. I'm here, though, Chris. I'm here and I'm telling you," he swallowed, not entirely sure he could actually do this, "I'm here to tell you I'm in love with you and I have been for years and I understand if it can't work, I do, but I had to tell you. You had to know, because it matters, Chris. It makes a difference." Justin sucked in a breath. "I love you. Head over heels stupid in love and there are people coming over and we have to finish decorating."
Justin turned back to the decorations, too scared to try and gauge Chris's reaction.
"Hey," Chris's hand rested on the small of Justin's back. "Turn around, okay?"
Justin turned.
"This isn't a joke?" Chris asked.
Justin shook his head.
"All this time?" Chris's voice wavered.
Justin nodded.
Chris's hand curved under Justin's jaw, pulled his head down. "Why now?" he murmured.
"We can change it," Justin breathed against Chris's mouth. "I know we can. I just can't alone."
"Never be alone," Chris mumbled before his mouth closed over Justin's. And oh, it was so much better than Justin have ever hoped, the way they fit, the heat of Chris's mouth and the way his hands slid over Justin's back. Over too soon, and Justin's mouth tried to find Chris's again when Chris pulled away. He looked at Chris questioningly.
"We've got a party to get ready for, right?" Chris's eyes sparkled.
Justin smiled. "Yeah. Lots of people."
"Have to get ready, then. We'll have time for this later."
"Time," Justin nodded, brushing his nose against Chris's cheek. "Yeah. We've got nothing but time."
-fin-for Jae, for the Secret Santa project