Nick-Justin 2 - beach 1

"So they only kept me locked up overnight," said Nick, grabbing another drink off a passing tray and handing it to the lovely young lady he was talking to. "So it was no big thing, really. I can handle prison anyway."

"How *fascinating*," she said, giving him a wide smile. A fake smile. Even this drunk, Nick could tell the difference. As she took a sip of the drink -- white wine -- her pager went off and she almost sloshed all over herself. "Oh, I'm sorry, I have to go," she said, wiping her lower lip with her thumb as she glanced at the message. He nails were red. Red like blood, or AJ's hair. "It was lovely meeting you."

"You too," said Nick, hoping his own fake smile was less noticeable as he lounged back on the leather couch, watching her go.

Someone behind him made the universal sound of crash and burn, the "EEEeeeeeee CSHHHHH!" and he glanced over to see Justin doubled up from his own wit. "Jesus, Carter," he finally got out. "Were you reading her stock quotes or somethin'? She ran out of here like you set her on fire. Nice work." Justin's eyes had a glassy gleam to them, and he was leaning heavily on a chair, but his grin still had an edge to it.

"No, I was quoting some of your lyrics," said Nick, claiming the drink she left behind and almost draining it. "I could almost watch her eyes glazing over. Having a good time? I notice you're still here..."

"Where the hell else would I be?" Justin weaved closer, as always, his body showing the effects of the alcohol more than his voice or his mind. "It's my party. Kind of. At least, thasswhat I told the girl in the bathroom. Wonder where she went?" He looked around slowly at the thinning crowd, like his eyes weren't focusing right. "It's kinda late, huh?"

"It's really kinda late," Nick agreed, making room for him on the couch automatically. "Usually... usually I've gone home by now. Usually you gone home by now, too, and not alone. Hey, did I ever tell you about the night I spent in prison?"

"Yeah," Justin sighed, and dropped down on the couch, balancing unsteadily for a moment before giving up and slowly collapsing until the arm of the couch was holding him up. He blinked at Nick and grinned again, all sharp teeth. "About fifteen times, and every time issa same. Nothin' you say is gonna convince me you wouldn't be some big ol' boy's girlfriend in fifteen minutes, either, no matter what. All that purty blond hair, you'd be a goner."

"I'm big!" protested Nick, spreading his arms wide, almost spilling the remains of the drink. "Bigger 'n you! I would've been fine, I can hold my own. Did I tell you about the drag queen I had to share the holding cell with? Did I tell you that part?"

"Yes," Justin nodded again, making a few swaying grabs for Nick's glass before giving up and slumping back, looking annoyed. "He was short and...and had red hair, I think, and you said you thought he was a girl at first and then you freaked out. But that doesn't mean you can hol' your own, it just means you got lucky that you only got put in with a drag queen and not Bubba the carjacker, y'know?"

"Hey! There was that pickpocket, too!" Nick felt obliged to remind him. It wasn't just him and the little redhead. "I showed him who was boss! I woulda been fine in prison." He leaned in to whisper to Justin confidentially. "I think the pickpocket liked the drag queen."

"Now if only they'd gotten it on then and there," Justin sighed dramatically, "THEN this would be an interesting story. But they didn't, and I know about the wino in the next cell, an' the way time passed so slow, and alla that. Dude, you kneed to get a more interesting life you you can have new stories." He tipped his head back, and then sat up abruptly. "Holy shit, the room's tilting!"

"I think that's just you, man," said Nick, and finished off his drink. Justin was funny. "Or... wait, no, you're right! Holy shit, the room's tilting!" He would've thought it was just him, him and Justin, but he was sure -- *sure* -- that the couch moved too.

Justin stared around himself wildly, clutching at the couch cushions like he was afraid he'd be thrown off, but he clearly saw nothing, since he slowly relaxed. "Fucker," he told Nick. "It is not. No, wait, it is!" He shook his head. "No it's not. Dude, this sucks. I should go puke or something, because I think I am very drunk now. Not as drunk as Joey, but very drunk."

"Joey's here," said Nick, his head whipping around to catch sight of him. He liked Joey, an awful lot. "I haven't seen him. Is he really drunk? How drunk, really? Like, drunk enough to forget whatever might happen tonight?" He looked down again when he didn't spot him, though; looking around made him dizzy. "Oh, wait, do you really need to puke?"

"Nooo," Justin said, considering it carefully. "I don't think so. Might be a good idea anyway, though." He rubbed his stomach lightly. "Joey is really fucking drunk and was dancing the macarena on a pool table a little while ago, and later he fell down, and I think he's maybe passed out now. Maybe not, though, he can drink a lot and still keep going." He squinted at Nick muzzily. "Why? You wanna go draw a mustache on him or somethin'?"

"Nooooo," said Nick, and hoped he wasn't smiling. There were all kinds of things he'd like to do to Joey, and none of them involved using magic markers on his body. Well, maybe one. "Passed out isn't much fun. Do you need me to hold your hair when you puke? Oh, wait, you don't have much. I think?" He leaned in closer again and squinted. "No, I'm right, you don't."

"I'm too drunk for this to be fun," Justin announced abruptly, and pushed himself up to his feet, and stood, swaying more than before. "I need to fix that. There was food over there. I'm gonna...gonna go throw up, and then eat, and then I'll be undrunk. Stay right here." He headed determinedly, if not quite straight, for the bathroom, and was actually back sooner than Nick expected. Unless he'd just lost track of time. But Justin was walking much better now.

"Did you puke?" he asked him, studying him as much as he could, which wasn't much. "Were you gone long enough to puke? It can't have been long... no one else came over to talk to me while you were gone... " It occurred to him a moment later that maybe that wasn't the right thing to say. He was glad his hair had grown long enough to hide his eyes a little.

"That's cause there's no one else here." It wasn't quite true, there were some people still scattered around and Nick was pretty sure those two in the corner were having sex, but the party had thinned out pretty fast. "I was totally gone long enough to puke, I feel much better. Why am I talking to you about this anyway?" He peered at Nick like he was some kind of unknown species, and shoved a piece of bread at him. "Here. I don't want this. You wanna go swimming?"

"Here? Do I want to go swimming here?" Nick took the piece of bread and broke off a piece, stuffing it in his mouth. "Can we do that? You didn't puke in the pool did you?"

"No," Justin rolled his eyes vastly, then teetered a little and had to grab the couch. "I puked in the BATHroom, just like you're s'posed to. It's hot in here and I'm gonna go swimming." Nick had no idea what time it was, but he knew that 'late' was probably less accurate than 'early.' Justin had a determined look on his face, though. "Come on, we're swimming," he commanded.

Nick dropped the wine glass to the couch and stood up, tugging his shirt down over his belly. "Where?" he said again. He was pretty sure he'd already asked that. "Is there a pool? Are we near the ocean here? Can I skinny dip? I think I might have to..."

"I can't believe you forgot we're on the beach," Justin said scornfully, shaking his head before almost tipping over. "Almost on a beach. Gotta walk a little. I lost Lance." The last had nothing to do with anything, really, but at least Justin was talking in complete sentences. A bodyguard hovered unobtrusively, looking tired. "Swim in your boxers, I'm gonna."

"I'm not wearing any underwear," said Nick candidly. "I can't believe I forgot we're on the beach, too! I was thinking we were at the other place. You know the one? The other place." He regained his own balance and looked around for the door. These places all started to look the same.

"Whoo, freeballin'." Justin giggled drunkenly. "Guess you'll have to get nekkid. Show the boys what all the fuss is about." He nodded at the bodyguard, who held the door open for them. "Hey, baby," he crooned at a girl who was standing propped by the door. She turned blank eyes on them, and Justin shivered a little and scooted past. "Creepy."

"I think I was hitting on her early," admitted Nick, looking back over his shoulder and squinting. But she'd turned her back. "She wasn't all... gone, then." Justin's shirt was riding up, and Nick was reminded just how fit he was. Maybe this whole going swimming with him thing was a bad idea. But.... ocean! He wasn't going to back down. "It's just us, right? Swimming?"

"'s far as I know," Justin shrugged carelessly. Justin had been naked in front of the whole world already though. "JC's getting laid, and I lost Lance, and Chris is...somewhere...and Trace is in Vegas, and Joey's passed out, and I think it's just you and me and Jim." Justin struck out through the landscaped garden, apparently at random. "It's fucking hot, and I want to swim."

"You don't need me to be able to swim," said Nick, finding the path almost by accident. "I think we go out this way. I can hear the ocean, Justin. I have a sixth sense about these things." Or maybe, just maybe, the ocean was just loud. But Justin didn't seem to be any good at finding his way. "I can't squeeze into these pants in underwear. That's why."

"If I swim alone I might drown," Justin argued, and Nick thought he saw the bodyguard shudder at the very thought. "They always said, no swimming alone, ever. You gotta have a buddy. Or a lifeguard, I forget which, but either way, not alone." He paused, and eyed Nick's pants. "Those pants ARE pretty fucking tight, man. Nice." He looked mournful for a moment. "It must be nice to have an ass."

"It must be nice to have a bit less of one," muttered Nick, turning his head to try to stare at his own ass. It was very difficult, and he almost tipped over. "And no stomach to match. These pants are really fucking tight, man." And getting tighter, then longer he stared at Justin's ass. For comparative purposes of course.

"J. Lo said I'd get an ass if I did the Stairmaster for a couple hours a day," Justin confessed. "Fucking bitch, of course it didn't work. You should wear looser pants, dude, give your boys space to breathe. It can make you...something. Impotent? No, the other one, if you don't. Anyway. They look good, but you gotta take care of the equipment first of all." He nodded like this was the wisdom of the ages.

"I'm not gonna be crying in my beer if I'm not able to knock someone up," snorted Nick, but Justin had a point. He hoped to be out of his pants as soon as possible, no matter how good they apparently made his ass look. "Not that I'm practicin' much these days. Justin, *this* way. Towards the water."

"I thought I *was*," Justin argued, all wounded dignity, but he followed Nick out onto the sand easily enough and immediately started stripping. "Look, there's no people, guess it's too late or somethin'. I'm gonna swim way out."

"No you're not," Jim-the-bodyguard said immediately, in a firm and harried voice. "Neither of you are."

"I'm almost sober," Justin protested, and tried to touch his finger to his nose to illustrate his point, almost putting his eye out.

"I'm not," said Nick, still a little too candid for his own good. But the words just kept on popping out. "Justin, don't you dare mess up that pretty eye." He stripped slower, conscious of his body again. Mostly conscious of his ass, which was about to be on full display, without the shaping benefit of the tight pants. "We can play in the surf. Or something."

"Don't go in over your heads," the bodyguard warned in a no-nonsense voice, and Justin rolled his eyes at Nick.

"Okay," he said aloud, agreeably enough, and kicked off his shoes and jeans, leaving him in skintight boxer-briefs. "I just wanna get wet. And cooler. And maybe bodysurf a little, cause it's been too long since I did that. "

A couple minutes later, Nick was naked, completely naked, with his clothes in a little pile at his feet. "I really hope no one comes by," he murmured, but Justin had a bodyguard and he would look out for them. Or at least Nick hoped that his looking out for Justin would extend to Nick, too, for the time being. "You ready?"

"Born ready." Justin's head turned fast, but Nick could have sworn he'd been staring the moment before. "I think they closed off the whole beach, Carter, you don't gotta worry about anyone taking pictures of that lily-white ass." Justin sloshed his way into the waves with determination, screeching suddenly when a wave came in and frothed all the way up to his waist.

"Quit looking at my ass!" he said, and craned his neck and squinted to try to get a glimpse of Justin's the moment it got wet. It was too dark, but really, that wasn't the reason he didn't waste any time getting into the water too. Not the only reason. "And don't be drowned!"

"Hah," Justin said, staggering a little as another wave caught him behind the knees. "No drowning here. At least I'm not hot anymore." He flopped back into the crest of another wave, and came up sputtering and laughing and completely unsteady. "Oh, man, I almost lost the sky!"

The water *was* nice and cool, and Nick hadn't realized how hot he'd been in those pants until he got out of them. It felt real nice to just dangle in the water. Shrinkage didn't occur to him until afterwards, and by then it was too late anyway, so why worry?

"Don't drown!" he said again as Justin flopped around in the water. He imagined him swallowing a bunch of water, and that wasn't good. "You look good when you're wet. Very... wet."

Justin laughed again, the strange hoot he always made when he wasn't on TV, and something wet and heavy and slimy smacked into Nick right between the shoulderblades.

"Guess what, dude? There's seaweed here!" Justin bodysurfed towards him on a wave, getting dunked in the process, but holding up a handful of dark strands in triumph. "Hey, you're not all wet yet yourself. Chicken." He splashed Nick with one hand, waving the seaweed threateningly with the other.

That, finally, was enough to put Nick off balance, and he fell ass-first into the water. "Dammit, Timberlake!" he said, but Justin was laughing too hard to care, then another wave swept over them both and Nick was finally drenched. And, he suspected, he had seaweed in his hair. Justin was hooting again as he reached up to check.

"Dammit, Timberlake," Justin echoed him, voice weak with laughter. "You sound just like Carson, Nick. He was always sayin' that on commercial breaks. Dammit, Timberlake!" Justin clearly thought this was very funny, because he dunked himself by accident and came up coughing, a long strand of seaweed dangling from his ear.

"No. Drowning!" Nick said again, because Justin obviously wasn't getting it. He stood up and there was a piece of seaweed dangling off his dick. It made him look even smaller. "Stop laughing, man, you're gonna choke or something and I'm not saving you."

Justin was wheezing now, pointing at Nick's dick with a shaking hand. "It's like decoration, like christmas lights," he gasped, and dunked himself again, though this time managed to not cough. "Oh my god. I have to stop laughing, my face hurts and my stomach too." He took a couple of deep breaths, and didn't seem to notice that the seaweed was still adorning his ear.

Nick tried to pull the seaweed off -- himself, not Justin -- but it had gotten a little bit tangled and he ended up groping himself a little as he pulled it away, and between that and the proximity of Justin's ass, he started to... grow, a little. Yeah, grow was the most innocuous way to put it. Which was just a real mess, because Justin was still looking, if not laughing. Nick suspected he was just getting a few more full breaths in before starting again.

Instead, he made a funny little snort-cough sound, hunched his shoulders, and turned away, slipping onto his back and floating between waves, bobbing like a cork. He was floating close enough that Nick could see he wasn't exactly small himself, though Nick couldn't tell if that was just the way it always was or if he'd been doing a little...growing...of his own. He did flip a handful of seaweed blindly in Nick's direction, though. "I think I'm still drunk after all," he finally said consideringly.

"You think?" said Nick, and gave some thought to grabbing for Justin's ankle but he didn't want to risk the drowning thing. Justin probably missed the sarcasm. "I know I am. It's pleasant now, though. At least I know the ocean is *supposed* to be moving."

"Yeah, this is better than before," Justin agreed readily, his voice only slurring a little. "I'm fucking sick of parties like that. Floating's better than spinning anyway, and at least it's quiet. My ears hurt." He went under again, but seemed to have figured out how not to get a mouthful of water. "People're always screaming in my ear, it gets fucking old, you know?"

Nick knew *all* about that. "I thought you liked parties," he said, and it didn't really seem dumb until it came out of his mouth. "Honestly, I did. I thought they were your thing. I really like the ocean... I like the quiet and then the not quiet when something's happening."

"I do like parties," Justin said, and something in his voice sounded old and tired. "Just not all the time. I wish the tour would just start already. It's like the ocean, either all quiet or all crazy. Like that. Or something. At least everyone's got a job to do, then." He started lazily fluttering his hands, pushing himself slowly out into deeper water. "Everyone's got a job and no one bothers me," he went on almost dreamily.

"Not too deep," Nick reminded him, before Justin's bodyguard interupted them and ruined the illusion that they were alone out there. "No drowning. You should have taken your boxers off, too. They look tight." He bit his tongue. "Um. Not that I'm looking. Am I supposed to not bother you, too?"

"You're not," Justin said mildly, not looking at him. "Wouldn'tve asked you to come if you were. Not that they'd have let me out here alone anyway. I'm waaaay too valuable to die, ask anyone." He grinned sharply at Nick, all teeth. "I've got a keeper everywhere I go, just to make sure I don't get an infected splinter. Or fall down the stairs. Or drown." He disappeared under the water, still grinning, and was under for way too long. When he surfaced, he sucked in air, then flicked his head at the beach. "See?" Jim the bodyguard was already almost wet to the knees.

"I guess I'm not as valuable, then," said Nick, and it made him sad for a moment. But at least it gave him more freedom. "You shouldn't do that to him, he's gonna get mad and leave you here or something." Jim made a loud noise as he retreated, and Nick couldn't tell if it was agreement or disagreement. "You *are* valuable."

"Lucrative," Justin contradicted, "it's a different thing, and he'll never leave. Never ever ever." He looked kind of strange, Nick thought, a little wild, and he dropped his feet down and stood up, peering out to sea. "Wonder how far I could get," he mused, like he was talking to himself. "Jim's not much of a swimmer. Wanna come with?" He took one huge stroke and then stopped, standing up again in the deeper water.

"Justin, don't," said Nick, feeling a chill go through him that had nothing to do with the water. "Okay? Don't. It's not... that's not fun. You can... you can be something other than what you are without, you know, risking everything. Please?"

"Psssh," Justin said, waving a hand at him. "Don't worry, Nicky, I'm not risking everything. I'd never. My life is perfect, haven't you heard?" The drunk glassiness wasn't gone from his eyes, but the wild look had faded a little, even though he kept looking out to sea like he was searching for something. He hadn't called Nick Nicky since Germany, Nick realized with a shock. "Don't get your panties in a twist, captain commando. I won't drown on your watch. Or Jim's. I like Jim."

"It's okay if your life isn't perfect," said Nick, still so, so wary of him. "My life isn't anywhere near perfect, I can say that. Can we just...? I like the shallower water. Actually... I'm not feeling so good. I think I need to go throw up on the beach, Justin."

"Liar. Water makes *you* feel better, always has," Justin said mildly, but he took a big step in towards the beach, smiling tolerantly at Nick. "I'm telling you, don't look so freaked out. I'm fine." He slipped into a back float again, just drifting and bobbing on the waves. "You can go throw up on the beach if you want, I bet Jim'll be thrilled to help. I'm gonna stay right here, where there's no gravity."

"I'll show you gravity," said Nick, and this time he *did* grab Justin's ankle, pulling him closer. "You're scaring me, a little," he said. If it weren't for the liquor still running in his veins, he wouldn't have ever said something like that. "I don't know what you mean when you say that shit. I don't know if you want to make something bad happen just to see if you can."

Justin's smile was still weird and a little uncomfortable to see, and he kicked lightly at Nick's side with his free foot, letting Nick hold him up in the water. "I already told you, I'd never do somethin' like that to Jim. I like him, and he'd never get another job after something like that. I promise, I will do nothing bad tonight just to see if I can." He made the scout's honor sign. "Swear. You can relax and enjoy the water, I sure am."

"Forget about *Jim*," said Nick, though. "Forget about doing it to Jim. What about you?" He definitely wasn't relaxing now. He wasn't sure *what* he was. "And what about other nights? Justin..." But he didn't know what to say. As always, words were just completely failing him.

"In two days I'll be heading out on tour," Justin said gently. "And I'll be too busy to do anything but dance and sing and sleep, you know that. Don't worry about the other nights, they're covered. I've always got a Jim these days." He waved at Jim, who waved back. "See? Valuable, I'm telling you. Or at least lucrative. Never underestimate the power of money, Nicky."

"I know better," said Nick, and he hung on to that ankle like his -- or someone else's -- life depended on it. "You're more than money, though. Like--" He couldn't come up with the right words. "You just are. Obviously. I have more money than I know what to do with, and I'm here. For just because you are, too. You know?"

"Mm-hmm," Justin was watching him closely, and sounded like he was humoring him. With the shadows hollowing his eyes and cheeks and hiding his mouth, he wasn't good-looking at all, Nick realized. Just some guy with a decent body, who wasn't kicking free of Nick's hand. "Well, I'm glad you're here, cause he never woulda let me swim otherwise. And this water's great. It's kinda funny, huh? Rich or poor or famous or totally nobody, anyone can come swim in the ocean. I like it."

"I'm just here so you can swim?" asked Nick, and he was just sober enough to suddenly get self-conscious again, about everything he'd shown Justin, both physically and otherwise. "I didn't know. I'm sorry. You must think I'm really dumb."

"Not really," Justin said, still mild and curious. "Why would I? You haven't done anything dumb tonight. You're here cause you were conscious, and we've known each other since we were babies, and I like you. And because I know you never turn down a chance to swim." He brushed his free foot down Nick's chest and belly, smiling a little. "Right?"

"Among other things," said Nick, finding himself smiling a little in return. But he smacked Justin's foot gently away from his belly before he could explore there too much, the awareness of the state of his body remaining fairly acute. "We have known each other a real long time, huh? Things have changed so much."

"Oh, yes," Justin breathed agreement. "They really have." He pushed himself back to the surface of the water and floated there comfortably. "Are you happy?" The question came out of the blue, but Justin's voice was careful as he asked it, and he watched Nick's face avidly as he waited for an answer.

A question delivered like that deserved an honest answer, Nick figured. "I'm getting there," he said, and his voice came out soft and serious without him even really meaning to. "More now than in a long time. There's still... stuff. You know how it is. But yeah. I'm. Um. I'm finding my way, I guess."

"Cool." And Justin sounded genuinely relieved, and something else, something that wasn't quite jealousy. "That's great, man. I'm glad." He toed Nick's side again, and smiled a little. "You just keep findin' your way. I've seen you smiling lately, looking like a million bucks, I figured it was something like that. I'm seriously glad."

"There are a few things missing yet, but I'll get there," said Nick, and he really felt like smiling back now. "You? Are you happy, Justin?" He both anticipated and dreaded the answer; he could feel it in his gut, a tight slow roll.

"Oh, probably not," Justin said, light and airy and careless, and very disturbing. "But that's the price, I guess, or that's what they tell me. A phase, I think my therapist calls it. I'm fine when I'm busy, anyway, and the tour's only a couple days off, and once it starts I won't be anything but tired. It'll be strange, doing it without the guys." He shook his head a little, still smiling.

"You should probably know," said Nick carefully, "if you're happy or not. It's something you just know." Unless you'd decided not to admit it to yourself. "I could help you. If you wanted that."

"Um." Justin looked wary for the first time all evening. "How do you mean, help me? I don't need help." He tugged a little more insistently at the ankle Nick was still holding. "Thank you, though, for offering. Really, what I want to do is swim."

"Help you be happy," Nick pushed, hanging on. He was at least as strong as Justin, he figured. "Or... at least help you figure out if you are or not. I've gotten pretty decent at that, at least. You're not drunk anymore."

"I'm still drunker than you," Justin pointed out, probably correctly, Nick thought. "For whateverthefuck that has to do with anything. Um. How exactly do you plan to help me figure this out? Anyway, who says happy is this huge important thing that everyone's gottta be all the time? I work, I support people, I make music people like, that's good stuff, that's worthwhile even without being all smiling all over the place." He twisted his foot, but Nick was definitely stronger.

"Sure it is," agreed Nick, and he stroked Justin's ankle with his thumb a little. "Been doing that myself for a lot of years now. That's important stuff. But it's not, you know, an either-or thing. Or." An awkward thought occured to him. That was happening more often, as he sobered up. "Do you think I've sacrificed my career for happiness? Is that what you think?"

"Nah, not really." Justin scowled at Nick's hand on his ankle. "And even if you did, good for you, if it WAS an either-or and you picked the thing most important, the pri-pri-...you know what I mean." He gave up struggling and floated again, kicking idly at Nick's arm with his toe. "It just hasn't worked out like that, for me. So far. Maybe soon, I'll get to pick."

"You get to choose whenever you like," insisted Nick. He'd fought with this question for a long time now. He knew what he was talking about, even if Justin didn't believe him. "You can choose right now, right at this moment. You can choose to do something that'll make you happy." And he let go of Justin's ankle, because it was Justin's choice to make.

"Oh no I can't. Jim'll stop me," Justin sighed, pushing himself a little closer to Nick, and then standing up when he was well within arm's reach. "But this, this he won't." He drifted close, and wound cool wet arms around Nick's neck, smiling into his eyes. "You're not gonna smack me, are you? Warn me first if you do, cause my ducking reflexes aren't so great right now."

Nick shook his head, back and for, for what felt like a long time. "No, I won't smack you," he said, and it was practically a whisper. He didn't ask what that other thing would have been; he wasn't sure he wanted to know. "I don't want to stop you."

"Oh, good," Justin murmured, and pressed his lips against Nick's, letting the surge and slide of the waves push their bodies together. His lips were cold and tasted like salt, but his tongue was hot and insistent and Nick's eyes drifted closed as Justin's hands slipped down his back, around to his sides, up his chest. "Mmm." Justin pulled back just a few inches, and stared right into his eyes. "I'm getting cold. Are you getting cold?"

"We should get out of the water," agreed Nick, and this time his head bobbed up and down. He probably looked like one of those crazy dolls. "It's night, but the sand will be warm." It wasn't night anymore, though. It was early, early morning, and he suspected the sky would start to become grey soon. "Did that make you happy?"

Justin cocked his head and looked at him like he was crazy, then gently bumped their hips together so Nick could feel how hard he was. "It sure made parts of me happy," he grinned, and started to walk out of the water, towing Nick behind him, with only one final glance at the horizon. "It's definitely gonna be morning soon, we should probably get inside. Paparazzi." He shrugged, and it was clearly an apology.

Nick stopped him in his tracks, knee-deep in water, still. "Did it make you happy?" he asked again. "Not... not your body, not your dick, not... whatever. Did it make you happy inside? Inside your head or whatever? Did it make you want to smile for real?"

Justin stopped and blinked, clearly humoring the crazy naked man, but then looked thoughtful. "Not too bad," he admitted. "I think I was smiling for real for a minute or two there." He grinned at Nick again, and raised his hand to his mouth, nipping at the pad of Nick's thumb. "Now c'mon and make me happy inside some more."

That, Nick figured, was just about the best he could expect, at the moment. And certainly more than he'd expected at the beginning of their evening. Night. Morning. Whatever. "I'll do my best," he said, and it was a more serious and sincere offer than the actual words probably suggested. He'd learned that he deserved to be happy, no matter what else was going on in his life. Justin looked like he needed to learn that too.

Justin waved at Jim as he sloshed out of the ocean, dripping everywhere. "The worst part of unplanned swimming is the no-towel part after," he sighed, slicking water off his belly with the edge of his hand. "Oh well. It ain't my bed I'll be getting wet." He gathered up his discarded clothes and eyed Nick. "You gonna stay naked or try to get those pants on wet. I'm warning you, we're going back into the bungalow."

Wet and hard, Justin neglected to point out, and Nick wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. One thing he knew was that he was *not* going to be able to get those pants done up. On, yes, but his dick and his gut would be hanging out if he didn't try to get his shirt on, too to cover them. Barely, but cover them.

"Yes," he sighed, and started across the sand to collect them.

Justin strolled after him, nonchalant and relaxed and calm, looking around as if nothing untoward was going on. Nick almost asked if he was on something, but he'd seen Justin's eyes up close and the pupils were normal. "It's great you're here, man," Justin said, sincerety clear, as if he'd segued straight from a comment on the weather. "It's been way too long since I saw you. You can only get so much out of MTV Newsbreaks, y'know?" He watched Nick shake sand out of his clothes.

"Yeah, I know," said Nick, frowning at his clothes. This wasn't going to be comfortable. "Especially when I'm hardly on them." He was glad Justin was there right then, too, as wary as he was of his state of mind. "We could go somewhere else, you know. We don't have to stay here."

"I'm expected to stay, I think," Justin said mildly. "I'm pretty sure there's even a room with my name on it, right, Jim?" Jim, looking longsuffering, nodded. Nick was glad he'd had most of a lifetime to get used to ignoring the presence of security, but even so, he felt a little naked and started struggling into his pants. "Anyway, yeah, I get occasional updates on y'all from AJ via JC, but it's not really the same, is it? Us solo kids gotta stick together."

"Right," grunted Nick, and manged to tug the pants up over his bare, wet, apparently lily-white ass. And that was as far as they were going. He shook out his shirt. "You think there's anyone still circulating with wine? I could use some." As long as they were staying inside, not much chance of him getting picked up on a drunk and disorderly again. It made the prospect of more alcohol appealing.

"Probably. Unless they've closed up shop, but it's only four or so, so there should be a couple diehards left," Justin shrugged. "Drink away, I'd hate for anyone to leave the party feelin' unsatisfied." He leered a little at Nick. "Just don't get so hammered you pass out. I got my heart set on gettin' my hands on all that pretty skin."

Nick pulled his shirt on and tugged on it. It didn't quite cover, but it was the best he was going to be able to do. Hopefully no one would call the cops on him for indecent exposure or something. "Just enough to get the buzz back," he said, running his hands through his thick, wet hair before really turning back to Justin again. He was just as hot as Nick though he'd be. It wasn't helping the fit of the pants. "I promise to remain conscious."

"Cool." Just like that, Justin accepted that it would be so, and draped his own shirt around his neck as he headed back up the beach. "If you're still here we can go swimming again in the morning. I'm going away, I haveta get my fill now. Anyway, I'm too old to keep drinking after I puke the first time. Those days are long gone."

Nick was older than Justin, he wanted to say, but then *he* hadn't puked yet. "Yeah, you're *so* old," he still teased him, tugging at his shirt self-consciously. He wasn't even really sure that Justin knew who he was with, though, just that he was with someone. "I... got nowhere else to be in the morning." It was the truth, he might as well say it."

"A'right, it's a date," Justin smiled sweetly at him, echoes of the teenager he used to be, which made his next words even odder. "I'm really old, man, older than you know. Just about worn out. But I think I got enough left to make tonight a good time." The smile turned a little wicked. "Like remember when we were in Dusseldorf that time, and we snuck out after Howie and Chris and saw 'em getting it on? That was a good time."

Nick had to smile too, an automatic reaction. It was a fond memory, and a very enlightening moment. "Just make sure you're having fun tonight," he told him as they retraced their steps back through the garden. "Cause if you're not, I don't wanna." He dick was very angry with him for saying that.

"Oh, I'm having fun," Justin assured him. "Gonna be having more fun when we get you back out of those pants, though, I really don't think they're meant to be worn wet. Oh, hey Trace." He didn't even pause, and Trace, connected at the lips with a blonde, didn't look up or move out of their way. They had to walk around him to get to the door, which Justin pushed open easily enough.

"I'm beginning to suspect I wasn't ever meant to wear these pants, muttered Nick, his hand darting down to cover himself as they passed Trace, despite the lack of attention. "They looked much better on the sand, and I"m sure they'll look great on your floor. And tomorrow I can wake up and try to figure out where the hell I am."

"I can make you a map," Justin offered dryly, scrubbing his hand over his face roughly before grabbing Nick's elbow and hauling him through a side door. "Bye Jim," he called brightly through the door, and kicked it shut behind Nick, pressing him up against it the moment it was closed. "I think you're right," he said evenly. "I think those pants are gonna look fantastic on my floor."

"Where's my wine?" murmured Nick, but there were Justin's lips suddenly and some things were better than wine. And it wasn't like he needed to be drunk to do this; it sure beat all the girls he'd been futilely hitting on all evening.

"We'll get it later. I'll wake up a waiter," Justin promised, just a whisper of sound against his lips. "Always wondered what this would be like," he went on, between slow, wet kisses. "Glad I'm finally getting a chance." His hands were working at Nick's waist, and the pants slid down slowly again to puddle around Nick's ankles, and then Justin's fingers were digging into his hips, pulling him closer.

"This?" said Nick, carefully, "Or me?" Justin had this look on his face, of determination, concentration, that Nick didn't know what to make up. But his body was making the decisions here and it definitely wanted what Justin was offering, no matter what the intent.

Justin just murmured a 'hssh' sound and kept kissing him, down his jaw and over his collarbone, pushing his shirt off his shoulders and down to the floor. "Much better," he sighed, and his hands started to roam, stroking and petting, one palm sliding smooth up the curve of Nick's spine while the other explored his hip and thigh. "Oh, that's nice."

"An ass to be envious of," said Nick, who often suspected that he was completely incapable of ever shutting up. "Take your damn shorts off, Justin, I can hear them dripping. It's my turn. I get to see you."

That startled a giggle out of Justin, who for a split second looked genuinely amused and young, before he ducked his head and shoved his shorts off, leaving him bare and completely unselfconscious. He scratched a thigh carelessly, then stepped back up to Nick, framed by the low light in what Nick was realizing was a bedroom. "There, is that better?"

Nick stared and swallowed. "Uh huh," he got out finally. "That's good, that's real good." He should've gotten that drink, would have helped him compare himself less. Justin didn't seem at all aware of what Nick was feeling, though. Not like Nick was hyperaware of what was going on with Justin. Nick finally kicked the pants off his ankles. "We're really wet."

"We'll dry," Justin assured him, cocky grin back in place. "A little exercise and we'll be all set, and then we can get wet again, in the good way." He reached out and palmed Nick's cock, no subtlety at all, and chuckled when Nick bent at the waist with a gasp. "God. This is so nice," he murmured, staring down in fascination.

"Well," said Nick, after another long moment of staring. "I've always thought it was fun. Have you...?" He gasped again and Justin moved his hand, explored. "You *have* done this before, right?"

"Once," Justin mumbled distractedly, not looking up. "His wasn't nearly as nice as this, though. Honestly, Nick. Wow." He petted it with his fingertips, then leaned his forehead on Nick's shoulder, still swaying a little. He smelled like saltwater and a little like rum, and he was radiating heat and energy like he had a fever.

Well, that was once more than Nick had been expecting to hear, so that was something. He was used to being the more experienced one, just not with someone like Justin, who he'd known to always be the best at everything.

"Well, I do my best," said Nick, running his hand down Justin's back and resting his palm on his ass. Justin really didn't have much of one; Nick hadn't really realized that before. "You can..." Justin obviously didn't need to be encouraged to play with it, though; he didn't seem to want to do much else.

Justin wiggled it, huffing a small chuckle against Nick's skin. "Cool. Can I, um." He slid unsteadily lower, knees bending until he was crouching, his face at crotch-level, and glanced up almost apologetically. "I'm sorry, I really wanna do this, is that okay? My mouth's kind of watering, here."

Justin definitely wasn't detached anymore, Nick noticed. In fact, he was about as vulnerable as Nick had seen him in a really long time. "Do you want to go on the bed or something first?" he asked, ignoring the fact that his dick was yelling at him again. "Save your knees?"

"No, here's good," Justin breathed, smiling again. "My knees are okay, I just really need to..." he stopped talking and extended his tongue, bringing the head of Nick's cockl towards his mouth at the same time. Justin's hair was a little longer, Nick noticed with the tiny part of his brain that was still working, and his mouth was very red. The first lick was very tentative, like Justin wasn't quite a hundred percent convinced that he'd like the taste.

"It doesn't bite," he said under his breath, but he hoped Justin didn't hear. The second lick was a little less tentative, and Nick shivered involuntarily as he fell back and his shoulders hit the door. Justin seemed to be concentrating *so* *hard* on his dick; he didn't remember anyone ever focus that hard on him like that.

There was a little furrow of concentration between Justin's level brows that deepened as he opened his mouth around the head of Nick's cock and took it inside. He didn't do anything for a long moment, just breathed on it maddeningly, but then his lips closed and he sucked lightly and Nick's hand thumped against the door with the effort it took not to grab Justin's ears and thrust. Justin made a little humming sound of pleasure, then, and his forehead smoothed out, and he looked pleased.

In a back corner of his mind, Nick though maybe Justin was trying to *get* perfect at it, but he shut that corner off and just fucking enjoyed it. Because Justin Timberlake's mouth was on his dick and it was a really good thing. "You can... just no teeth... " he got out, but even if Justin had never *done* this, he'd sure as hell *gotten* a lot of them. Nick could be sure of that.

Justin managed to transmit his disgust at the very idea with just the lift of one eyebrow, and started sucking in earnest, helping out with his hand when he choked a little, then tried again even deeper and made it. His other hand was wrapped around Nick's thigh, fingers hot and digging in, bracing Justin as his head bobbed enthusiastically.

Nick kind of wanted to give him pointers, guide him through this and help him be better at it, but not only did he think Justin might get pissed off if he tried, he also didn't want to waste brainpower on it when Justin was doing a perfectly adquate job. Certainly good enough to get Nick off, if he let him, and Nick sure as hell wasn't going to stop him. He tangled his fingers in Justin's hair and closed his eyes and let him do what he wanted to do.

Justin's tongue was a little clumsy and not quite in time with the movement of his head, but he was enthusiastic enough to make up for it, and he apparently simply refused to choke or give up or slow down. In fact, he sped up, sucking and licking frantically, like Nick's cock was a special treat that might be taken away from him at any moment. When Nick dared to slit his eyes open and check, Justin's were closed and he looked blissful, his mouth red and raw and wet, and his fingers were kneading Nick's thigh, now, like a cat.

That, right there, was almost as hot as feeling it. Justin looked like porn, there was no other way to say it. Just red hot porn. Nick sucked in a breath and forced himself to keep his eyes open, and made a mental note to warn Justin was he was going to come, if he could, because no one swallowed the first time.

Justin was still nowhere near deepthroating, but he'd apparently settled down enough to remember things he liked, since his tongue was moving with a little more purpose now, licking good spots and sweeping over the sensitive head. Nick felt that slow heat start in his hipbones, the melting feeling all through his pelvis as all his muscles tightened and strained, and he must have made some kind of sound because Justin's eyes flew open, though his tongue and mouth never stopped working.

It was going to take more than a little sound to make things clear, and Nick didn't have much time to say it in, so he tugged lightly at Justin's hair and said, "I'm seriously, I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come right away," and had to trust Justin to do what he needed to do with that information.

Justin's eyes blinked wide as Nick felt himself start to come, and then they narrowed like he was considering, but he never moved away, never stopped that delicate almost-too-light suction even when Nick felt himself start to come in a long hot rush. His throat didn't move, though, and as Nick slumped back against the door, Justin pulled off, making a face before he stood up fast and made an unsteady beeline for the bathroom. He came back seconds later, flushed high on his cheeks, looking embarrassed. "Sorry," he muttered.

"No," said Nick softly; he wouldn't accept that apology, there was no need for it. He held out an arm and wordlessly invited Justin to join him, where he still stood leaning against the door. It was all he could really do, in that moment.

Justin, head cocked and looking a little wary, moved into the circle of Nick's arm and leaned into his side. Still hard but it didn't look urgent or painful, and he seemed willing enough to just stand still for a moment and take it all in. He seemed relaxed enough, but Nick was still completely asea about what was going on in his head.

"I liked that." Justin's voice broke the silence abruptly. "I liked that a lot. I'm, well, I'll probably get better at it, too, you think? I really didn't know how hard it was."

"You were good," said Nick, and it was the truth. He'd made Nick come, and that was good. "I"d be happy to let you practice any time you like, though." And then he kissed him, partly because he wanted to and partly because he wanted Justin to know that he was totally cool with kissing him after he'd given a blowjob, that it wasn't gross to him. "I'm really glad you liked it," he said, too, after.

Justin kissed him back, slow and leisurely, and then pulled back, still looking thoughtful. "I definitely liked it more than I'd thought I would." His hand skated down Nick's side, exploring a little. "I, ah, I'm guessing you can get it up again? Because I'd really like it if you fucked me, I think, and I was kinda hoping that would happen tonight." Justin's enthusiasm was unmistakeable, but Nick still got the unnerving sensation of someone checking off items on a little list in Justin's head.

"I guess it's a good thing I didn't have any more wine then," he said, just to fill the empty air, as he grasped at the thinnest hints to get an idea what was going on in Justin's head. "Or do you think you would've just found someone else it I had?" Even flaccid, Nick's dick wasn't at all pleased to have him jeopardizing any future action by asking that. Nick ignored it.

"Dunno," Justin said, voice almost weightless, as his head tipped down to Nick's shoulder. "I'm glad you didn't, though. I'm glad it's you." He rubbed his hips up against Nick's thigh, eyes drooping heavily. *Justin's* dick wasn't flaccid, and was getting harder all the time, bumping Nick's hip, and Justin licked his lips. "Couldn't do this with some stranger," Justin went on, nodding like he was agreeing with his own words.

"Well," said Nick, keeping his voice lighter than he felt. "Nice to know I'm so attractive to you." It wasn't like he expected this to be anything that lasted for more than the night, but it still might've been nice to be... *desired*... a little more. To not be a body of convenience, in whatever Justin was busy working through. "Are you happy?"

Justin stopped moving for a long moment, then tipped his head. "I'm closer than I've been in a long time, does that count?" He smiled at Nick, a coy princess smile through his eyelashes. "You're very attractive to me," he went on, and Nick couldn't doubt the sincerity in his voice. "You were always...you always...but now that you're happy, it's more. You shine, and I want to lick you." The corner of Justin's mouth kicked up in a grin. "Like I said, I'm glad it's you."

"I want to talk with you," said Nick, tugging him closer, pressing up against him. "On the bed, I want to get on the bed and talk with you. Okay. Talk." If Nick kept this up much longer, his dick was going to up and leave him and find someone who was more driven to just get some damn action. "Let's get on the bed."

Justin folded down onto the bed without any protest, but looked honestly puzzled. "Um. Talk? Isn't this the part where you fuck me?" His hand crept down his own body and gave his cock a quick, comforting pat that almost had Nick laughing. "You really want to talk? Talk about what?" He watched Nick carefully as he crawled up the bed after him.

"You," said Nick, nudging Justin onto his side and spooning behind him. He reached around and curled his hand around Justin's dick, but didn't do anything with it. "I want to talk about you for a while. How are you doing?"

Justin twisted and craned his neck, clearly trying to get a look at Nick's face, before he gave up and pushed his hips impatiently into Nick's hand. "I'm on top of the world," he said in a flat, practiced voice. "My album's multiplatinum, I'm goin' on an arena tour in two days, life couldn't be sweeter. I'm really getting to stretch myself artistically, you know? Take it to the next level."

"Right, that's nice," said Nick, snuggling closer, his arm wrapped around him. Protective. "So how are you doing?"

This time Justin almost did twist all the way around. "Dude, I just answered that," he said, a thread of tension creeping in. He was thrumming with tension in Nick's arms, and Nick couldn't tell if it was the hand on his dick or the questions or both, but Justin felt like he was about to fly apart. "I'm doing good, things are going great. How are YOU doing?"

"I'm good," said Nick, squeezing gently, stroking a little. But not too much, not really taking it anywhere. "And you didn't answer it at all. Not at all. How are you doing, how are you feeling, what are you thinking?"

"I'm doing fine, I'm feeling horny and I gotta tell you, a little stressed, and I'm thinking I'd like to get fucked," Justin said, and it was less rude than it could have been because he still sounded genuinely confused. "I did answer, I mean, I didn't ignore the question or anything. I guess I dunno." He pressed into Nick's hand again, clearly wanting more.

"Don't worry, we'll fuck," Nick assured him, stroking again, gently. "I'm just. I want to know how you're doing, first. I don't want this to be... nothing. I don't want it to be anything other than you or me. And I know you have no idea what I'm talking about, but it's important. Don't... don't even think about work right now. Okay? I know you are."

"Well, I always think about work," Justin answered. "Don't you? But, y'know, okay, I really don't have any idea what you're talking about, seriously. How could this be anything other than you or me? I even locked Jim out." He arched his back, snugging his hips deeper into the curve of Nick's pelvis. "Glad I did. I think three would be a crowd."

"No, I don't always think about work," said Nick, reflexively pushing back against him. It felt good, his body liked it a lot. "That's part of that whole new 'happy' thing you find so attractive. It's pretty healthy. My therapist says so. But we're not talking about that right now, it's just you and me. Not just two people -- You. And me."

"Yes," Justin said, impatience creeping into his voice, "and I still have no fucking idea what you're talking about here, yeah it's you and me, yeah we're here together, sure I always think about work but hey, I'm busy, and I really, really just wish we could have sex now." He grabbed Nick's hand and dragged it up his body, bringing it to his mouth and sucking two fingers inside.

Nick closed his eyes, and he just wasn't getting anywhere with him, and maybe he really shouldn't be bothering. It was Justin's issue, not his, and when he was ready he would deal with it. Nick couldn't make him. "Okay," he murmured. "Yeah, you do that. A few more minutes, and I'll be ready."

"Okay," Justin said, relief coloring his voice richly. "You're as bad as Joey, man, all those questions, no reasons for 'em. I think he actually paid for extra bodyguards for me, can you believe it?" Justin was sweating lightly, and it smelled like salt and vodka, and Nick remembered how drunk they were. "Maybe I should use those few more minutes and check the closet and under the bed. I have a feeling I'm not gonna be wanting an audience for this."

"No, don't go anywhere," said Nick, as though Justin actually *would*. The more he kept Justin with him, he figured, the better off they both would be. Justin may not get it yet, just what Nick was trying to get him to understand, but he would. Somehow, he would. "The few minutes will pass faster if we're..." He didn't need to finish that.

Justin sighed, and settled a little, a bit of the manic energy leaking out of him as he nudged his hips back into the cradle of Nick's pelvis. "Are you gonna make me talk to you?" It wasn't insulting, said in such a plaintive voice; in fact, Nick almost smiled. "We could just make out, instead. You're a pretty amazing kisser, Carter, y'know. I had no idea what I was missing all these years."

Nick didn't want to say they wouldn't talk, because he was a real big fan of talking these days, given how far it had gotten *him*, but he didn't want to say they would, too. At least, not until some sex had been had. "We'll make out first," he said, coming down somewhere in between, and decided to show Justin some more of the kissing thing that he liked so much. It wasn't exactly a hardship.

Justin made a pleased sound and tilted his head back for a kiss, without turning his body. He was making no attempt to get out of Nick's hold now, and was in fact squirming closer, back pressed to Nick's chest, spooning in earnest now, his arms holding Nick's close to his body. Even his kiss, when he finally gave it, was less frantic and energetic and rushed, as if the position they were lying in was calming him down by the minute. "Mmmm, nice," he whispered into Nick's mouth.

Nick wasn't at all sure "nice" as the right word for it, but he went with that because it was a good word, a pleasant word. A word that meant there was more to come. For all his altruistic overtures, Nick just really wanted to get laid. He was finally in agreement with his dick that he would be the world's biggest loser if he messed this up.

"What do you...?" he asked, between kisses. "How do you...? What do you want, right now? Like... like this?"

Justin blinked lazily at him, cheeks flushed, smiling a little. "Like this is good," he nodded slightly, "just for the few minutes, though. Then, y'know, sex. Right?" His belly was clenched under Nick's palm, and Nick remembered that he hadn't come yet, though he'd been visibly hard since the beach. "I really want to try that," he confessed. "I've heard great things."

"Are you sure... are you sure you want to do it *now*?" Nick confirmed, running through in his head all the things they would need for Justin's first time, and wondering if they were available right where they were. "Because there are a lot of other things... and there'll be other times, right?"

"I want it to be now," Justin insisted, pressing back into him. "It has to be now, okay? I want it to be you, and I dunno if I'll get another chance. I'm totally sure, you don't have to worry. I, ah, I know how it works, and everything, I've seen it before. But now, yeah, now is good."

"There will be other chances," insisted Nick, kissing Justin's neck with as much tenderness as he could show him. "We can make other chances. We have that choice, Justin." But that had been a very clear yes from Justin, and Nick wasn't going to turn him down. He was already pressing up against him, nudging at Justin with his dick. He didn't think he could say no if he tried.

Justin made a pleased little purring sound, and arched his back, nudging Nick in return, spreading his legs like he'd been doing it for years. "You never know," he said, his voice gone thin and breathless and excited. "You gotta take the chances you have, you never know when you won't ever get any more. I want to take this one."

"Not chance, choice," insisted Nick, bringing his fingers up to Justin's mouth. Justin would know what to do, he was sure of it. Justin already seemed to know everything, except what things *felt* like. And that, to Nick, was probably the most important part. "Okay," he breathed in Justin's ear. "Okay, okay, we'll do it now."

"Okay," Justin agreed, relief and gratitude threaded all through his voice before he sucked Nick's fingers eagerly into his mouth, licking away with little skill but much enthusiasm. He mumbled something that sounded like "mmm, salty," before slicking his tongue around Nick's fingertips one last time, pretending to nip at them, and letting go with palpable reluctance. His fingers were skating up and down Nick's forearm, trembling a little.

Nick never claimed to be a saint.

"Okay, now relax," he murmured. "They never really tell you, but if you relax, and, like, push? It'll be so much easier and some much better." It was the kind of thing Justin probably couldn't have read up on before hand. Though, which his obvious interest, maybe he had. "The trick is to just... participate. Don't just be passive."

Justin nodded eagerly, but still squeaked a little at the first touch of Nick's slippery finger between his legs, tensing up and clamping down before Nick could feel him take a huge, deliberate breath and relax. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Not really used to anyone's fingers there but mine." Justin's head was bent forward, but Nick could see that the tip of his ear was bright red. "I'm not really sure how to participate, here," he went on, sounding just a little uncertain.

"Push back against me," suggested Nick softly, but it was a bit of premature advice since he hadn't gotten anywhere yet, not even a little bit inside. "Pretend it's you, if you have to. Pretend it's your fingers, let them slip inside, the way you like it." And wasn't *that* the kind of mental image that made Nick achingly hard.

Justin hummed thoughtfully, and shifted his hips back and forth, almost rotating them and making Nick's mouth go dry. Nick could feel the tight muscle under his fingertips relaxing, easing, and then Justin was pushing back slow and steady and Nick was inside. Without moving at all. Justin's hips jerked once, like he'd had an electric shock, and Nick's finger sank deeper into tight heat.

"Ooooh." It sounded so much like the flourish in one of Justin's songs, Nick almost laughed. Or rather, he would have if he'd been able to concentrate on anything but the sensation of fluttering tightness around his finger, and the way Justin's hips wouldn't stop moving.

Nick hadn't expected him to take to it quite like *that*, quite that easily, and with so much talent. But then, this was Justin Fucking Timberlake, and didn't he get *every*thing right on the first try, effortlessly? Wasn't he the most perfect human being ever to walk the planet? Tomorrow, Nick was suddenly sure, Justin could decide that he wanted to walk on water, and he would make it happen.

But it wasn't tomorrow, and they weren't walking on water, and Nick's finger was firmly clamped inside Justin's ass, and that demanded all of his attention. "Yeah, like that," he murmured, like he'd been expected that reaction out of Justin all along. "You want more?"

"Yes please," Justin answered immediately, almost sounding prim in his politeness. It was fascinating to watch the bunch and roll of muscles under the freckled skin of his shoulders, the way his head tipped forward when Nick twisted and pressed with his fingers, the little hitching breaths that gave the lie to that surreal self-possession. Even Justin couldn't be blase about two fingers in his ass, Nick decided with satisfaction, and slipped the second one in without further warning. His reward was another buck of Justin's hips, and Justin's hand drifting down to touch himself.

What Justin didn't get, what Justin couldn't get -- what Justin, Nick realized in a sudden flash of brilliance, had maybe *never* gotten -- was that sometimes it was more fun to lose control than to be *in* control.

"No!" he said, suddenly and a little too sharply, and pulled his fingers right out of Justin's ass to tug Justin's hand back up off his dick and pin his wrist to the bed. "No." Before Justin could really react to what was happening, Nick sucked to fingers of his other hand into his mouth, slicking them with saliva, and pushed them back into Justin's ass, picking up where he left off.

Justin was frozen, gone completely still in what looked like confused shock, tugging weakly at the wrist Nick had pinned. His head turned against the pillow, shoulders hunched and shifted, and then Nick's fingers must have hit gold because Justin arched back with a startled "huh" of pleasure. His knee lifted up and he hooked an ankle back over Nick's calf, opening up on what looked like instinct, since the half of his face Nick could see was wearing an expression that seemed torn between lust, fear and confusion. "What are, what is..." Justin pulled at his wrist again, admittedly not very hard, though Nick could thank his fingers for the distraction.

"Better this way," said Nick, and didn't offer any more explanation than that. The less Justin understood about what was going on in Nick's head, the better. He pushed and twisted his fingers, doing all the things he knew he liked having done to himself, and made sure that a lot of them were things that Justin could never have done to himself. And he ducked his head to nuzzle at Justin's neck again, just adding to all the sensations.

Justin was shivering a little again, and it made his laugh come out on a wavering breath as he leaned his head back against Nick, giving him a deeply wary look at the same time. Then Nick spread and bent his fingers and Justin's eyes fluttered closed and his mouth dropped open, and he pressed his hips back again, more urgently this time.

"Ohmygodthat'sgood," all came out on one breath, and fast, like Justin couldn't quite believe what he was feeling.

"You sure you want me to do anything else?" Nick teased him a little, licking at his earlobe, along the line of his jaw. He squeezed the wrist he was holding down, just enough to be felt. "Maybe you want me to finger fuck you until you come. I still have more fingers to go, after all. Maybe you can come without me even touching you dick... you wanna find out?"

Justin made an incoherent sound in reply, digging his heel into Nick's calf in an effort to get them impossibly closer. His hips had found a rhythm--Justin never had had trouble with that, that Nick could recall--back against Nick's hand, forward into the air, and from the flush high on his cheeks and the heaviness of his eyes, Nick thought they were maybe closer to proving his hypothesis right than he'd known. But Justin suddenly bit his lip and stopped moving, shaking with the effort it took, and met Nick's eyes over his own shoulder.

"No, no, I wanna...I need the whole thing tonight. Please, Nick. I need it, it's gotta be tonight. Please, fuck me?"

Nick didn't stop. In fact, in the moments when Justin stopped moving, he worked a third finger in. It was easier than he'd expected, and from the look on Justin's face it was easier than *he'd* expected, too. "Maybe," he said thrusting carefully with them, "I want to give you reason to seek me out again. Maybe we're gonna do this my way. Maybe I'm going to show you how good this can be."

"Nick!" It sounded like disbelief and irritation and arousal all wrapped around one word, and Justin bit down into his lip again as Nick started moving his fingers again. "What if there isn't another chance?" He asked, wheedling. "What if, if the stars--ooh--they never align right or something happens and we never have this chance again and then think how disappointed you'd be." Justin snuck a hand back behind himself, and Nick felt a soft fist close around his cock. "Just, I really want this. Your way or whatever, but I want this."

"And if I get my way, you'll want it even more," said Nick, punctuating it with a grunt. "You shouldn't be able to put thoughts together right now. I need to do a better job." He twisted his fingers and left Justin gasping, wide-eyed. "Being together again is a choice, not an accident." He squeezed Justin's wrist, because it got a reaction ever time, and bit lightly at his neck. "You're going to come soon, just from my fingers, you know you are. You love it."

Justin shuddered and shivered and turned his head away, clearly silent protest that he wasn't going to get his way. "What if we don't get the choice?" There was a resigned tone to the breathless words, though, as Justin's hips reacted to Nick's words and hands with a desperately increased rhythm. "You'll...oh...you'll be sorry--" his words broke off into a long, wordless cry, as Justin arched like a bow in Nick's arms and came, hard and shattering, jerking on Nick's fingers with the strength of it.

Nick just bit a little harder, kept him*self* from going over -- a task made easier thanks to the earlier blowjob. "I'm not sorry," he whispered a moment later, and left his fingers right where they were. Justin didn't seem to be ready to let go of them anyway. He did release Justin's wrist so he could turn Justin's head toward him and give him a soft, wet kiss.

Justin growled into it, possibly the least threatening thing Nick had ever heard, especially since Justin was shivering with little aftershocks still and made no move to get away from Nick's kiss. His eyes were still closed, and there was a little furrow between his brows, like he was thinking. Or, possibly, trying desperately not to. He thumped Nick's shoulder gently with the heel of his hand, lip suddenly quivering.

"Dammit. Goddamnit," he whispered.

Nick's hand was still clamped in Justin's ass, which limited his motion. Not that he wanted to move away at all. "Hey," he said, keeping his voice gentle and soft, kissing Justin again with no tongue this time. Just something soft and slick. "That was fucking fantastic, Justin. You good?"

"I'm good," Justin said in a tight, suffused voice, eyes closed tight. "That was...amazing, and not how it was supposed to go." He sighed, and squirmed away as far as Nick would let him, which wasn't very far. "You're, I've never, why didn't you, I'm going in two *days* and all I wanted was for you to fuck me, Nick..." he trailed off and let his head fall back to the pillow, resting gently on Nick's shoulder as all the fight went out of him.

Nick finally reclaimed his hand and settled on resting it against the small of Justin's back. "But it was good," he said, which, to him, was the important thing. Even if Justin was still working on that bit. "It felt fucking fantastic. There's no 'supposed to', Justin. I'm not a toy that you're using to get off. We had sex and it was messy and fun and great. Period."

"I'm doing new things right now," Justin said by way of explanation, sounding a little sleepy instead of pissy, now. "Things I wanna be sure I get to do at least once in my life. It was...it's not like that, that toy thing. It was definitely great, wonderful. Anyway." He sighed again, and stretched, wincing a little. "But you. Um. I dunno how to put this politely, but that thing's gonna give me a bruise."

Nick couldn't even describe what he felt, hearing that. He didn't want to describe it. In fact, he pretty much just wanted to stop feeling it. Feeling anything. "Well, I've still got it up," he said finally, gritting his teeth and thinking that wasn't going to be true for very much longer. "You can just bend over and we can get this over with for you."

Justin flinched like he'd been slapped, and blinked rapidly for a long moment before his face went blank. "Okay," he said quietly, and slid onto his stomach, face turned away from Nick. "Thank you," he added, just as quietly, "I needed it to be you, even if you didn't want to. Don't, I mean. So, thanks."

Nick didn't care anymore. It had nothing to do with him, not at all. Any body could have done this, any body Justin had gotten close enough to that night, who hadn't hooked up with anyone else. And Nick was a fucking idiot for ever believing it was anything other than that.

"Like this," he said, pushing Justin's knees up under him and spreading his legs wide. "You're already wide open. It'll be easy. It'll be over soon, and you can cross it off your list."

Justin's shoulders hunched up around his ears, but he silently let Nick put him any position he wanted, as limp and unresisting as a doll. He tucked his clenched fists under the pillow and his cheek, propped up on his elbows and forearms. "Is it going to hurt?" His voice was even and level and curiously blank, given the question he was asking, very different from the squeaks and moans he'd let go earlier.

"A little," said Nick. "I'll try not to let it too much. It always does a little, at first. I'm bigger than three fingers. I think you noticed." Considering he'd been inside Justin's mouth not that long ago, Justin ought to know. Nick wondered if that was on the list, too. if swallowing was a separate entry. He slicked himself up with saliva and positioned himself carefully and then he was pushing, pushing slowing inside and it was easier than he'd been afraid of -- Justin really was already stretched and wet.

Justin still sucked in a shocked breath, the only sound he made, though he turned his face down to the pillow and all the muscles in his back and shoulders tensed. He didn't move a muscle until Nick was all the way inside him, and even then it was just to gulp in more air and let it out on a hiss. Justin was still holding very still, almost like he was frozen, waiting for Nick to give him some sign or signal or do something.

Nick just slowly bent forward, covering Justin's body with his own, feeling himself pushed deep inside. He didn't even know he was crying until he pressed his face to Justin's neck and suddenly felt the wetness smeared on Justin's skin, on his own cheeks. He ignored it, and finally started to move, rocking his hips against Justin's ass. Being careful not to hurt him because he wasn't the asshole here. He was just doing what Justin wanted.

"Nick," Justin whispered, muffled by the pillow and the shivers that were moving through him now, as he pushed back the tiniest bit as Nick eased his hips forward. "Oh, Nicky, oh." His was voice was shaking harder than his body, and he didn't lift his face out of the pillow even a little bit, not even when one of his hands flew out from under the pillow and scrabbled frantically around till he latched onto Nick's forearm and clung.

Nick guessed that it felt okay, for Justin; he'd done this often enough that it ought to at least be okay. His dick was certainly pleased with him, the first virgin ass he'd had in a very long while, it couldn't help but feel good. But it wasn't touching him anywhere else, he wouldn't let it now. He didn't want to feel any of it until he was alone again.

He ran a hand over Justin's back and hoped the muscles would relax soon; it would be easier on him, if they did. Nick should know. "It won't be long," he promised again, and moved a little faster.

Justin made a little sobbing sound and let go of his arm, the muscles clenching as he fisted his hand in the bedding instead. He was rocking, now, with the movement of Nick's body, but his head stayed down between his shoulders, hunched and tense. Something inside had relaxed, though, and Nick was moving easily in and out, quicker and quicker, feeling his orgasm approach from a long, long way away.

It was like hardly anything at all, when he came. Just a blip on the radar, centered on his dick and nowhere else, especially not in his head, or his heart. He shuddered, though, because an orgasm was an orgasm, and he could feel himself filling Justin up inside. "You did good," he whispered, and squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to let Justin feel it when the tears leaked out this time. "You did real good."

This time when Justin flinched it moved Nick's whole body, since he was still draped over him and inside him and all around him. Then Justin was scuttling sideways, out from under him, keeping his face turned away the whole time, even when he almost fell off the bed. He swayed alarmingly for a long moment once he found his feet, then just stood still, like he didn't know what to do next. His eyes, when Nick finally got a look at them, were puffy and red and his mouth was a tight, tense line. "Thank you," he finally said hoarsely, not looking at Nick. "I know you hated it, and you did it anyway, so thanks."

"Well, it was what you wanted," said Nick, hating that his voice didn't come out as flat as it had been in his head. Hating everything about how this had turned out. "It was *all* you wanted. You okay, then?"

Justin shrugged, a minimalist lift of one shoulder, and stared around, clearly a little disoriented. "Yeah, I'm okay," he finally answered. He met Nick's eyes, finally, and blinked, reaching out a finger and touching Nick's wet cheek, his own lips softening into unhappiness. "Hey, don't. Don't. I'm so sorry. I promise, you can be happy again tomorrow." He leaned down and just touched his mouth to Nick's, a sweet soft kiss.

Nick gave a little shrug of his own. "Probably not," he said honestly, because it didn't matter anymore. "But I'll get there. It's a... it's something that a person's always working on, you know? You get your heart broken or your ego crushed one day, you pick up, you move on. You should... you should try it with someone you like some time, though. This. Sex. It's different. That should be on your list, too, probably."

"I don't." Justin stopped speaking uncertainly for a moment. "I asked you because I like you, and I trust you, and you're the only one who knows. I wanted it to be good. I'm not, there's, it wasn't supposed to make you unhappy." He sighed, and scrubbed his hand over his face, grimacing. "Don't let this...there are things, okay, Nick, and I would've asked you different, this would've been different, only it wasn't. But it's not your fault, and the stuff, at the beginning, before I fucked everything up?" He even smiled a little. "That was...wow. Perfect. Just like it should be. So, thank you." He kissed Nick again, not letting him turn away.

"But you didn't," Nick summed up, though, "and so it wasn't. Different." He sighed and wrapped a lazy arm around Justin's waist. "It's fine, that it was me," he added finally. "I mean, I'll get over it, that it was just... convenient. But just don't lie to me about it, okay? You can't make someone happy by lying to them, not really. You have to find happiness, you know, inside yourself. In what's real, and important to you."

"I'm not lying, I swear that to you right now," Justin said earnestly. "I'm really not. And I'm sorry it wasn't different, but it had to be now, and I maybe didn't get that information across in the right way, and I'm really pissed at myself for that. You weren't like, some default guy, Nick. I came looking for *you* at the party." His hand slipped tentatively through Nick's hair, stroking so light Nick could barely feel it. "I didn't want it to be like this."

Nick resisted the urge to bat his hand away. "No, you know, it didn't have to be now. I don't know why it had to be now. I don't understand you at *all* Justin. And I'm just... sorry, maybe I'm too tired to be really patient right now. I was trying to... something, with you, and you didn't want it. I'm sorry I couldn't show you how to be happy. I'm sorry I couldn't even be a real good example tonight."

Justin sighed, and withdrew, stepping away from Nick and letting his hands fall to his sides. "It's not your job, to make me happy," he said quietly. "Don't feel bad about that, it's not your fault. I wanted everything, but--oh, fuck it. Just fuck it. Never mind." He swooped in one more time for a kiss, this one hard and desperate-tasting and fast, and almost in the same motion grabbed his jeans and started pulling them on. "You can keep the room," he said quickly, only staggering a little. "Stay as long as you want. And...can you do me a favor and say hey to your guys for me? I haven't talked to them in a really long time, but it's not cause I don't like them. Just let them know that?"

"I will, sure," said Nick awkwardly, wishing he wasn't naked and exposed and everything. "You could try to explain. If you thought I got this whole thing wrong? You could try to explain. I don't want you to... you still don't look happy, and I know it's not my job. But. Maybe I can do a better job as a friend, working on it, than I have as... whatever it is you wanted me for. Whyever."

Justin cocked his head and looked at him, a strange little smile on his face. "A couple of years ago, I would've asked you out on a date and sent you flowers and all kinds of stuff. I wanted to, too. *Now* I wouldn't date a monkey I liked, I'd send the poor thing running as far away from me as it could get, but I still wanted you. Want, present tense, but...I saw my chance, tonight, and I took it, and I'm still sorry it wasn't good for you." He cupped Nick's cheek in his hand. "But just so you know, you *weren't* just some random fuck."

"No, I know, everything lined up just right, tonight. The stars, or whatever. I was available, and there, and drunk and horny, and working really hard to get you to like me, to smile a little. I know I wasn't random, not like that." Nick was already having cause to regret how things had happened, to regret how he'd reacted, how he'd let his hurt get the best of him. And in the process done more harm than good. "You don't need to reassure me Justin. I still... god help me but I still want to be here for you. I think you need it. And don't take that as an insult."

"You are here for me, you have been all night," Justin said, standing still, shaking his head a little. "I'm not insulted, man. You're the first person in ages who's cared if I was smiling or not. I mean, who wasn't behind a camera." He fidgeted a little with his belt, then reached for his shirt. "I kinda. I want to remember tonight as ending okay, if that's all right with you. And you don't seem so pissed off any more, so I think I'm gonna go while that's still the case."

"No," said Nick, shaking his head. "No, wait, why does it have to end? Justin, I don't *understand* you. I don't understand what you're thinking, or why you're doing this. Or why you have to make it so--" Nick had to chuckle. "Complicated. This didn't have to... you're right, it should've happened different. Either you want me or you don't, Justin."

"I want you," Justin said, with disarming candor, "I just don't get to have you. Look, it's not...it's not so complicated, it sounds like it is but it isn't really. Tonight has to end because tomorrow's coming, and the day after that there's a ton of people counting on me to kick ass on this huge tour. And when that's done, it's...things will be different, I think. Anyway, that's why, and you, Nicky, you're smiling all the time now, for real, and I just wanted to see that up close and personal."

"It's better to have it, than to see it," said Nick, looking around, at the floor, for his own clothes. "I mean... you don't have to kick me out. and we don't have to do anything else, but can we just talk about this? Because... I don't even know if you're listening to me, Justin. I don't even know if you want to. Do you want to?"

"I'm listening," Justin said seriously. "I just don't know if I can hear you. I'm not kicking you out, I'm kicking ME out, anyway. But I don't have to go right now, I guess. What exactly did you want to talk about?" He perched on the edge of the bed, still a little unsteady, but looking much more composed than he had even minutes before. He handed Nick his shirt.

Nick took it, but didn't put it on. "Look... okay, there are things I know, just from being me. About what we are and what this life is like and things like that. And so I know what it looks like and what it sounds like when someone is lying to themselves. And you are. And I don't think you want to hear that, but... you should."

"I'm not lying to myself," Justin contradicted him calmly. "I'm totally square with myself in my head. I might lie to *other* people, or, you know, not tell people absolutely everything, but not me. I know just where I'm at and where I'm going." He smiled a little, the one that made Nick uncomfortable. "Hard not to, when you're forced to look at yourself in extreme closeup all day every day. You know about that, I bet, you're right about that part."

"No, you're lying to yourself," said Nick clearly. "And I know you're lying, because once in a while I see in your eyes that you really do understand what's going on, you just don't acknowledge it. Maybe you're not ready to. But I kinda hope you're ready to start at least. Because being happy... and having your career... they're not, like, mutually exclusive things."

"It's bigger than me, now," Justin mused, not responding directly. "Everything is, the promotions, the tours, the media. But, yeah, okay, I'm not happy, and I do admit that to myself, but I'm gonna fix it, soon. It's just, I can't really focus on that and do what I gotta do right now, so right now everything else kinda has to take precedence. But not forever, no way." He picked at a loose thread on his pantsleg. "I saw your show in Tulsa, back in May. It was really good, man."

Nick felt himself smiling, he couldn't help it. "Why didn't you tell me you were there, man? We could've done something." But that wasn't the point. Or it was only part of it. "Happiness doens't have to be put on hold. And that's not just... okay, the thing is, you can focus on what you've gotta do? And still be happy. And not having it distracting you. You say you and me can only be tonight? Only right now? Well... why the hell can't I fly out and spend time with you, you know? There's no reason, except this idea you got in your head that you can't."

"I didn't want to mess with your vibe," Justin shrugged, smiling back at him. "You were hanging with your band--they're really good too--and I didn't wanna walk in all flashbacks to boybands, y'know? And, well. I don't know. Fly out and see me?" His eyes flickered to Nick's, then away, back down. "I never really...I'm so insane when I'm on tour, you know, five minutes of downtime is rare. Plus, I'm poison. You think I'm kidding, but I'm not. You don't want that to touch you, I promise you."

"I can take care of myself," said Nick. "You don't... you don't get to choose that for me. I choose for me. And I fuck up sometimes, but *I* choose. And you choose for you. You're not... you're not *poison*. Why would you even say that?"

"Well." Justin's mouth twisted wryly, even as he tucked his bare feet up indian-style and settled his back against the wall. "Maybe not charts-poison or sales-poison, but personal life poison. Ask Trace. Or JC. Or Britney. Anyone, really. D'you know that Joey's marrying Kelly because I freaked out at the idea of anyone in our group dating each other and he and JC split up to keep the group together? I mean, that was a long time ago, but still. Poison."

Nick hadn't known that, he hadn't even had any idea. "Well... that's the past," he said finally, because what else could he say to that? "That was something you did in the past, and you wouldn't do that again, right? So why does it matter? It's not poison. You're not poison."

Justin gave him a slightly pitying, slightly skeptical look, but didn't argue that particular point further. "Still," he finally said. "It's not...trust me, it's not a good idea to get involved with me. Ever, but right now especially, and I like you, way too much to date you." Even he seemed to realize how ridiculous that sounded, because he shook his head. "You know what I mean. Oh, and dude, that JC stuff...stays in this room, yeah? It's still kind of a sore spot, and I'd hate for him to hear about it all over again, or Joey either."

"I know enough not to say," Nick promised, and put his shirt on. He didn't want to tackle those pants again until he absolutely had to. The shirt covered enough so he didn't feel quite as naked. "So okay, I can't make you want to date me, Justin. I can't make you l-like me. So how about, you know, trying to be my friend or something, first?"

Justin stared at him for a long moment. "Why on earth would you WANT to be?" He asked finally, clearly baffled. "You don't need the exposure, you sure as shit don't need the money, and you've got your own posse. And I'm not real easy to be around, I hear, and it's not like you'd be getting anything out of it. I can...you like me okay now, and that's kind of nice, and I don't want to wreck that." His smile was edged. "It'd be nice to have someone out there who I've slept with who doesn't spit when they hear my name."

"I want to be because I like you, because I want to be with you," said Nick, and he didn't even really get the question, and more than Justin had apparently understood his. "I mean, you do have friends, right? People you hang out with, have fun with, talk to? I'd like to be one. Is there a form I need to fill out or anything, or can I just do it?"

Justin snorted a laugh, like it had been surprised out of him, and his eyes were crinkly with humor when he glanced at Nick. "Nah, there's no form, but don't say that too loud near my manager, okay? He might get ideas. Sure I've got friends, of course I do, it's just, y'know, they all have to like me cause they've known me since I was a baby." He shook his head. "I still. Okay. I don't get it, but it's your call, but don't say I didn't warn you." He held out his hands, palms-up, in a helpless gesture. "I take no responsibility for whatever misery I cause you."

"Nope," said Nick, letting himself grin at Justin. "I mean, don't go out of your way to fuck me over, man. But I take total responsibility for the choice I'm making to be friends with you. I know what I'm getting into." Finally, he sat down next to Justin. "So, now that we're friends, you wanna tell me why it was so critical you had sex with some guy tonight?"

Justin kept smiling, but his eyes shuttered off completely. "It's just...sometimes I feel like I don't have all the time in the world, you know? And there's a lot of stuff I want to do, so I've gotta get it all in when I can. Don't you ever feel about a thousand years old? Anyway, it wasn't just some guy. It was you, specifically, though I admit I got real lucky when you showed up at this party."

Nick found he still couldn't quite believe that. And if it was true, then he should be feeling really, really bad right about now. "Well," he said after a pause that grew long enough to be awkward. "I hope you know, at least, that it wasn't *good* sex. I thought... you said it like you just wanted to do it. Like I could have been the doorman, for all you cared."

"Well, yeah, I maybe didn't put it so well, like I said." Justin's cheeks darkened with a flush. "I, um. Mad sex isn't generally good, I don't think, so, yeah, I figured it could be better than that. And I did, I did want to do it. And I was maybe a little pissed that you hadn't done it before, when I asked for it." He glanced sideways at Nick. "I would have, with someone else, eventually," he said carefully. "So I could say I had. But you were the one I *wanted* to do it, if that makes any difference."

Nick sighed, hissing a little through his nose, and nodded his head. "But I still don't get it. Because, I mean... okay, we had great sex, you know? Before that, that was great sex. You just... you started to let go and it was the hottest thing ever. What was the big deal about having a dick in your ass? We could've done it some other time, when you were a little more experienced. When we had, like, actual lube and stuff. I'm sorry."

Justin shrugged, and his blush didn't fade. "But I've *had* fingers, at least mine," he insisted, if softly. "And I didn't know if I was gonna see you again. So it seemed like it was better to just do everything while I had the chance, y'know? And it WAS incredible before, and don't apologize. No lube and you mad at me and it still only hurt a little bit, and felt really incredible at one point." Both he and Nick ommitted mention of the fact that Justin hadn't gotten even a little bit hard. "You did just what I asked you to do, man, it's not your fault."

Nick shrugged, and he wasn't sure whether to agree or disagree with that. It was like the whole issue was something other than what Justin was talking about anyway. "Why are you trying so hard to push me away?" he asked. "All I wanted was to be with you, be happy with you, and feel good. What's so bad about that?"

"Nothing! Nothing. I wanted that too, and I wasn't pushing you away, not before, not even after." Justin looked a little angry now, the first sign of honest irritation Nick had noticed in him all night. "I mean, I was lying there all cuddling, and okay, said the wrong thing, maybe, and then you're all, 'bend over,' and I don't know how that was really me pushing you *away*, Nick. And after, I mean. I keep telling you, being around me makes people fucking miserable, and I like seeing you smile."

"Stop telling me that being around you should make me miserable!" said Nick, throwing his hands in the air. "I mean, because obviously it doesn't, obviously I'm pretty happy to be here and all. I wouldn't be here if I wasn't. And look... I fucked up, Justin. I'm sorry. It shouldn't have been like that, especially not your first time. One of, like, a million regrets I have to live with. But you really hurt me, okay? And... the working on being happy thing doesn't keep me from being hurt, when I think I'm being used or when I think someone doesn't want me around. And just... before you say ANYthing, me being hurt by something you said and did doesn't mean you're poison, and doesn't mean you make everyone miserable."

Justin blinked at him for a moment, expressionless, then tipped his head in some kind of assent. "You shouldn't regret it, though," he said. "I'm sorry too, and maybe if we're both sorry they can wipe each other out. Huh? So, we should do that." He grinned, just a shadow of one, and looked at Nick sidelong. "Maybe we could try it again, and do it right this time. Really wipe it out, make a better memory."

Nick returned the grin. "You think?" he said, maybe even a little hopefully. "You want to? Like... now? Or is this something for, you know, our future? Once we're a little firmer on the friendship thing."

"Ah, now would be good," Justin's smile got a little firmer. "Or, maybe not NOW now," he checked his watch, "since it's almost six and I'm starting to get a hangover. But, y'know, before you leave and I leave and stuff." He met Nick's eyes, seriously. "I just, I want you to know, I'm honestly gonna be really busy, especially at the beginning. So I won't be blowing you off or whatever if you want to come by and I say it's not a good time."

"I'm going to keep trying," said Nick, just as firmly. "If you tell me no, a bunch of times. I'm going to keep trying. Just so... if you start getting weird again, and trying to back away, you know I'm not gonna give up that easy. Not if you want me."

"Okay." Justin leaned back against the bed and sighed, like it came from his toes. He did look tired, Nick realized, heavy dark circles under his eyes, and pale, like he'd spent too much time in the studio or danceclubs and not enough outside playing ball. "I'll give you my direct cell line before we go. Cause that's the only way to get ahold of me these days. That cool with you?"

Nick nodded. "Of course," he said. "Of course. I'll make sure you can reach me too, Justin, if you want to. And I *do* want to have sex with you, if you still want it. My dick would strangle me in my sleep if I said no to that. But how about we get back up on this bed and lie down for a while, right now. Before one of us passes out on the floor."

"Wouldn't be the first time," Justin muttered. "Doubt it'd be the last. But yeah, the bed's better." He scootched up the side, until he was comfortably propped on the pillows, still dented from his fingers earlier. "Dude, you've got a big dick, but I doubt even it could get far enough up to strangle you. I think you're safe." His yawn seemed to crack his head in half. "Huh. No one told me getting fucked would make me this tired."

"Maybe if I did it right, it wouldn't have," said Nick softly, and he almost believed it. "When we wake up, Justin, I will. I promise." He didn't leave any space between them, didn't give Justin a chance to keep his distance. Nick curled up right next to him and around him and tucked his head against Justin's throat. "Lie down and relax," he said. "Sometimes, there's nothing to worry about."

Justin wiggled halfheartedly in his hold, then settled with another sigh, going boneless in half an instant. "Yeah, right," he murmured. "Don't be surprised if Jim or someone comes busting in here tomorrow real early, telling me I gotta be somewhere. Maybe my mom. Hope you don't mind her seeing your bare ass, Carter." His sleepy snicker was drowned out by another huge yawn.

Nick pulled the blankets up, because nobody needed to be seeing his bare ass, or anything else for that matter. "They'll just have to deal with it," he said. Maybe you got somewhere to be, but I don't, so I'll be right here." He kissed Justin's neck and wished that things were easy, or easier, or something.

"Mmkay. I'm just gonna sleep for a little bit. Couple of hours, tops, and I'll be ready to go." Justin turned tentatively towards Nick, nudged his shoulder more firmly under Nick's cheek, and pawed at the light until they were suddenly under cover of darkness. He hummed a little, a snatch of some song Nick didn't recognize, and then went quiet, his breath evening and deepening almost instantly.

* * *

Nick stretched out on his bed, sun shining down, laying a beam of light across his legs. It was a good day. Maybe a lucky day. He grabbed his phone and dialed Justin's number from memory and crossed his fingers that it would be picked up.

"Speak." The voice was breathless and there was a hum like machinery behind it, a rhythmic thump-thump-thump that could only be someone jogging. Justin, probably, though it could only be seven thirty in the morning where he was. "Who is this?" Justin's voice sharpened into the lengthening pause.

"N-Nick," he said, and winced at that stupid stammer. "Hey, long time no speak, man. How's it going? How's life treating you?"

"Oh, hey. Sorry, phone's all fogged up, couldn't see your number." Justin was speaking easily, but with little hitches in his breath with every footstep. "I'm working out, dude, gotta keep up with Christina. Girl's ripped." He took a deep breath. "You? How you doing?"

"Good, good," said Nick, waving a mosquito away with his bare foot. "Definitely not working out, on this end. It's a beautiful day."

"Huh." It's not quite a laugh, not quite a breath, and Justin's running never breaks stride. "I haven't seen outside yet, but I bet it's still raining. Where are you, anyway?"

"Like, specifically?" said Nick, looking down at himself. "Home, on my bed. But not, like, *in* bed. I've been up for a while, I swear. It's raining there?"

"As far as I know," Justin sighed. "It was yesterday and the day before. Doesn't matter, I'm not out in it anyway, got shows every night all week. So, you're laying around in bed like a bum and just decided to give me a call and gloat, or something? Bastard."

"Yeah, the only reason I could possibly be calling is because I want to gloat," said Nick, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of that idea. "I was just touring myself, not so long ago, you might remember. I have stuff to do later today anyway. Figured it might be a good time to call, yeah?"

"Mmm-hmmm." Justin breathed a laugh. "It's kinda early, you know. If I'd been sleeping, I'd be crawling through this phone line to beat some ass right now." The footsteps slowed, then finally stopped, and Justin breathed deep for a moment. "God, five miles shouldn't be that hard," he commented idly. "Oh, hey, AJ's on the news over here, you know. Something about a starlet?"

"Oh god, what's he done *now*?" said Nick, but he was sure it was nothing too bad. AJ didn't do anything too bad anymore. "And if you were sleeping, you woulda had your phone off, and I would've left you yet another message. But you're not, you're killing yourself trying to do five miles before breakfast, when you know you're going to be going at it hard all day anyway."

Justin snorted. "Killing myself? Nah. This is just a little morning jog to get the blood flowing, bleed off some stress, you know how it is. Anyway, AJ's new starlet used to date some guy, he's a lord or something I guess, so they're all up in the news. Nothing bad, it's just funny to see his picture all over the place. If you talk to him, tell him the most recent goatee is looking very Prince of Darkness for me, 'kay?"

"Prince of Darkess, got it," said Nick. "He'll probably be pleased you said that; he's been working that angle for ages, I think. So what do you have planned for the day? What's on the agenda? Any time to have some phone sex with your, uh, friend?"

Justin was silent for a long moment, and Nick imagined he could see the waves of shock emanating over the phone line. Then there was a bark of laughter that sounded entirely genuine.

"Oh, you fucker," Justin finally got out. "You completely fucked up my reps, I want you to know, I almost dropped the weight on my foot! Dude. Don't do that to me." Nick could still hear the grin on his face. "Tempting offer, very tempting, 'cept I've got two bodyguards in here with me right now and they don't need to be seein' that."

"You mean I have to do it alone?" teased Nick, and he almost *did* touch himself. "Where's the fun in that? And hell, Justin, do you really think you should be doing that while talking on the phone? You could, like, hurt yourself or something. You could sprain a groin muscle, and that would be terrible for your sex life."

"No shit," Justin deadpanned. "If I HAD a sex life right now. But I've got my headset on, so no worries. Plus, I'm doing biceps right now, so I think my groin's fairly safe." He grunted in effort once. "You can do it yourself and I could listen. It'd make this workout a whole lot less boring, I bet. No, the twenty-pound ones, yeah." The last, clearly an aside to someone else.

"Well, uh..." began Nick awkwardly, feeling like he'd suddenly lost his handle on this situation. "It's more fun as a, you know, mutual participation activity. You don't need me putting on a show for you. I'm not the entertainment." Though at least that would be something. "So what *are* your plans for today, then?"

"Well, I've got the gym for another hour, then I'm gonna shower. Interview with some UK gossip rag, then a radio thing, then a lunch meeting. Then runthrough and sound check, then a phone interview with Teen People, then the show." Justin rattled it all off in a monotone, like he'd had it drilled into him. "After that I gotta go to some club, it's a publicity thing, and then home probably around three. I think you caught me at like, my one free moment. Good timing, Carter."

"Well, after a dozen tries, I was bound to get it right sooner or later," said Nick, frowning a little bit, hoping Justin couldn't tell. He knew what touring schedules were like, he wasn't going to argue. Especially when that didn't sound like a particularly bad one. It was just... how Justin sounded, that was what was bothering him. "You can call me when you get in anyway. I'll keep my cell on me, except when I'm in the water."

"I'll be lucky if I can find my bed when I get in, much less call someone," Justin answered dryly. "These dancers are hard partiers, boy, you should see it. But if I get in before three, yeah, I'll give you a holler. What're you up to, anyway? I'm doing triceps now, which sucks, you should make me jealous telling me all about your days of fun." There was definite eagerness in Justin's voice; he clearly actually did want to hear about Nick's day.

"Well, let's see," said Nick, taking mental inventory. It didn't take long. "Still lying on the bed, in a sunbeam. Haven't so much as rolled over since you called. Once I get my fill of lazing around, I'm going for a run on the beach and then a swim, then tonight I have a dinner meeting with a new producer I might be working with. And now we see why you're the one who's a huge star, huh?"

"Guess so," Justin said, no trace of anything but deep envy in his voice. "Going for a swim, huh? Catch a wave for me, would you? God. The only part of this I'm actually looking forward to is the show tonight." He sounded completely exhausted, suddenly. "Who's the new producer? You gonna lay down some new stuff?"

"I might, yeah," said Nick. "I got some ideas, recorded a few things here at home and I dunno. I kinda like them. Don't know if I'm going to ever have the chance to release anything else, but I don't let that stop me from doing it. It's a lot of fun. You should come see my beach, when you're finished this tour. I think you'd like it. Plus, recording studio right on the property, it's win win. Right?"

"They'll let you release," Justin said definitely, firmly. "You sold plenty of records, man, definitely a good run. And anyway, I've got about three tons of shit recorded and stashed in my basement. I figure my family can release the songs posthumously and stay rich for years, after I go. It worked real well for Tupac, after all." He chuckled. "I'd love to see your beach. We could record a duet, really put the market on its ass. I, ah, we'll see what the schedule looks like after the tour, though, okay?"

Nick laughed, mostly at the thought of what his style and Justin's style would sound like together. It would be a whole new genre, or something. "If you want to do something." he said after a moment, "just make time, Justin. It's your life. Why let other people choose how you live it, you know? You just got one shot, you wanna make it count."

"Oh, I am," Justin said fervently. "I have, I think. I mean, who out there, except maybe you and the guys and a couple other people, have lived this much in twenty-two years? I've crammed a lotta life in, seen a lotta stuff. And, and I'm going to choose, I just don't know what my schedule's gonna look like. Maybe, yeah, maybe *right* after the tour. Like, if I could fly out the day after the last show. I'd like to swim again."

"If that's what you want to do, I'll make sure I'm here," said Nick, sliding down the bed a little to follow the sunbeam. "It's not how much you pack into the life, you know. It's how much you love living it. I think you should take a little time off after the tour. Relax. Have lots of great sex with me."

"LOTS of great sex?" Nick could almost hear Justin's smirk. "Not just a little? Not just once or twice? Are you absolutely sure? 'Cause you promise me lots of great sex, I'm gonna hold you to that, Carter, if I do make it. We'll see how I feel after the tour." The amusement left his voice suddenly, like a light going out. "Four months, this tour. It feels like forever, y'know? And I just got started."

Four months wasn't really that long, for a tour, Nick thought. But Justin sounded tired before he even began, sounded like he wanted to be just about anywhere else. "LOTS of great sex," he promised him. "Every day, so you'll never want tlea leave. And you *will* come see me after the tour. It's like, it's not optional. You know you want to, Justin."

"I--" Justin hesitated, strangely, and then sighed. "Yeah, I do. But I can't make any promises right now, allright? I'll see. I'll just see. Don't count on it, though, I mean it. Don't count on me for *anything*, 'cause I'm just not real dependable, and I warned you about that, right? So, we'll see." He was silent for another moment. "You comin' out to see a show?"

"Yeah, sure I will," said Nick awkwardly, rolling over onto his stomach and stretching out again. "Look. Um. Are you trying to tell me you don't want to get together with me anymore? Have you changed your mind? Because you know I still want to be friends with you if you don't. I'd still want you to come out and see me."

That seemed to startle Justin. "Hey, no," he protested. "Weren't we just talking about the great sex? I'm just saying, y'know. Oh, fuck it, I don't know." Frustration--directed at himself, Nick knew--just about leaked through the phone. "Listen. I want you to come see me on the tour, okay? And I wanna come visit you after, and hopefully have a lot of fabulous sex both times. I'm just saying, things are still a little up in the air for me, lifewise, so don't be surprised if I flake on you or something."

"Yeah, well. Okay," said Nick. "You know how we were talking about choices, Justin? About making choices that make you happy in your life? Well, you get to make some, here. Get to make some always. And I'm right here ready to help you make those decisions, but I've got to know what you want, first."

"Why?" Justin sounded curious, and a little irritated. "Why do I have to make choices right now? I'm right in the middle of calf raises, here, it's not exactly prime thinking time for me." If Nick listened closely, he could hear the faint sounds of weight machines in the background. "I made a decision, I want you to fly out and hang sometime this tour. Probably easier for you when we get back to the states, but, you know, whenever. There you go, decision."

"And I said I would," Nick reminded him. "And I didn't mean make a decision right this second. I meant make a decision at this point in your life. There's not really any such think as something you *have* to do; there are always options. And if I talk about this anymore I'm going to start sounding like my therapist, so..."

"Like mine, too," Justin agreed dryly, "and I'm paying him $200 an hour or something." He went quiet, and Nick could hear a raised voice in the background. "Hey, I gotta go, I got that thing and I haveta shower before or it'll be all over the news what a filthy bastard I am. But listen, you should figure out if you're coming, then give me a heads up so I can try some schedule-juggling. Maybe I could actually get an hour or two free, we could actually hang out."

"I'm *coming*, Justin," Nick insisted again, wondering just why he was having so much trouble with the idea. "I'll let you know when, I'll call you tomorrow. And since I'm coming, we're gonna get more than just an hour or two together. Schedules are bendy things, you know. You can make them work for you."

"To a point," Justin said grimly. "Mostly, these days, I just go where I'm told, when. It's actually--and yes, I've tried--not worth it to fight it, most of the time. But hey, if you're coming, I'll see what I can bend." A little genuine enthusiasm crept into his voice. "Maybe we could actually get a whole afternoon. You should come some day when I don't have a show, those are easier, usually. And, okay, I've REALLY got to go."

[Nick's line]

"Okay, you do that." Justin's voice already sounded far away. "Later, Carter, be good." Justin hung up before Nick could say another word, leaving him sprawled in his sunbeam listening to the silence of an empty cell phone line.

* * *

Nick was fully stretched out on the sand, drying off his sea-soaked body, when he heard a familiar ringing from his pile of clothes nearby. Groaning and sitting up, he brushed some of the sand off his body and reached for it. Normally, he would never have brought his phone our here with him, but ever since the possibility existed that Justin might call, he had been.

"Yeah?" he said, feeling a trickle of water run out of his ear. "Hello?"

"Hello? Is this Nick?" Tenor voice, light and so familiar, and then the voice placed itself. "This is Joey. Fatone? Sorry to call you up outta the blue like this, but Jive gave me your number when I asked. Um. You got a minute?"

"What?" said Nick, while his brain caught up with the words. "Oh, oh yeah, sure. I got all the time in the world. What's up, Joey? Oh fuck, nothing's happened to Justin, right? I mean, that's not why you're calling, right? Or, um, any of you..." he added belatedly. Fatone calling him just completely threw him off his game.

"No, no," Joey said hastily, and emphatically. "Nothing's wrong with Justin, at least he was fine when I talked to him a couple hours ago. No, we just, he just mentioned you, when we talked? And I thought it might be a good idea to give you a holler." Joey's voice got a little hesitant. "He's a little...well. We're a little worried about him, and I thought I'd ask if you'd noticed anything a little off about him."

"A *little* off?" Nick blurted out, without really thinking about his answer. A nasty habit of his that even years of interviews hadn't trained out. "I... I don't have a whole lot to compare it to, I guess. I don't know him as well as you guys do. But..." Best to get more information before really getting into this. "So you talked to him? Um... what did he tell you, about us? I mean, me?"

"*Us*?" Joey's voice was quizzical. "Huh. He didn't really tell me much, just that he's been talkin' to you some since the party. I didn't...he doesn't talk to too many people these days, unless it's an interview or whatever, so I kind of picked up on it quick. At this point, I'm taking what I can get from him, the uncommunicative little bastard." Joey sighed deeply. "From that answer, I'm guessin' you've noticed something too."

"Yeah," Joey agreed easily. "Unless it's something that I feel like I gotta do something about right away. But I'm guessing it won't be, since you sound pretty relaxed, so, it stays with us. And I'm guessing it's not gonna be anything new, really, but it'll be great to hear it from a fresh perspective. I won't tell him you talked, though, no matter what you say. If he IS telling you new stuff, last thing I wanna do is shut that down."

"Well, it's not that he's really said a lot to me, though we did talk. I didn't think it was a lot at the time, but maybe I got more than I realized I did. Anyway. So. Um. A while back, not so long, really, but before he started the tour, we were both at this party? And we hooked up. You know, *hooked up*? And it was... we went swimming first, and we talk on the phone still, and I'm totally telling this all wrong. I don't know what I'm trying to say. Except that the only time I ever saw him let go at all and not be this tense, rigid, like, *robot*, was when we were. Like. Fucking. Sort of fucking. Is that the kind of thing you're talking about, with him?"

"Well." Joey was silent for a long, surprised moment, and Nick could almost *feel* his raised eyebrows over the phone. "Huh. I didn't know about the fucking thing, but that's actually...okay. That robot term? Is really accurate, and he's got pretty much everybody flipping the fuck out over here. He's pushed us all so far away we can't even get a read on him, so if you're close enough to be hooking up, that's actually the best news I've heard in a long time." Joey sighed deeply. "I know we're not, y'know, all that close, but I want to ask you a pretty huge favor."

"If it involves trying to help Justin out?" said Nick, "Then I'm in, no question. I've been... maybe I've been going about this all wrong. It's been, well, it's been awkward from the start, because I just don't *get* him. It's like he hates what he's doing, and he's *not* happy, he's said so, but it's like he thinks he can't be. It's like he thinks that what he's doing is the only thing he CAN do, and nothing matters to him anymore."

"Yeah," Joey sighed again. "Well, you're not alone in not getting him. I'm not really sure what happened, because before a couple months ago he was okay. Tired, stressed, yes, but you know how much he loves this, and it still showed. And then, bam, it's like somebody blew out the candle. But the favor...just. When you're with him, be really careful? Keep an eye on him? He's taken to walking along the edges of balconies, and driving too fast on bridges. And he's great at giving his security the slip." Joey's voice sounded like that of a much older man. Old and tired and scared.

"He's..." Nick let his voice trail off and almost dropped the phone. He hadn't had any idea, it hadn't even occurred to him, and maybe it really should've. Especially thinking back on the night they spent together. "Joey, if that's true, he needs more than just me being careful. He needs help. Like, for real. That's..." He didn't need to tell Joey it was scary, Joey knew it was scary already. "And you have no idea what changed, what did this? I have half a mind to go kidnap him off his tour and keep him on my beach with me for a while..."

"Hah." Joey chuckled, without humor. "Well, you'd have my blessing, and the rest of the guys'. He won't let Chris come on the tour, did you know? The most we can do is show up for shows and muscle our way in backstage. I think some beach time would do him a world of good." Another sigh. "He's got a therapist traveling with him. Mandatory therapy, four times a week, no matter what. It's just not helping that I can see. Problem is, Justin thinks he's smarter than the therapist, so they go around in circles a lot. And no, no one has any idea what happened. My theory is plain old fatigue."

"He... Um. He invited me to come see him on tour," said Nick, a little hesitantly. He hadn't known, he really hadn't know, just how bad it was. "Which is good, right? So I was gonna do that, maybe in a few days. Maybe sooner now that I know. He needs to not be doing this, Joey, not right now, no matter how much he thinks he needs to be on tour, no matter how much of his whole, like, identity is wrapped up in performing." He realized he was starting to rant and took a deep breath, felt himself sink into the sand a little further. "I'll give him as much of a break as I can, when I'm there. He..." Some things that Justin had said were coming into sharper focus. "He said, more or less, that he likes that I'm happy. That's why he likes to be around me. Except when I'm being a dick but, well, I"ll try not to do that."

"Believe me, we've tried everything to get him to postpone this tour. We even tried to get it cancelled out from under him," Joey said grimly. "That's when he booted us all. I think...I think maybe that you being there would be awfully good for him, especially if you don't push. We pushed too hard, and got shoved too far away to help at all. You're something new and interesting and, yeah, happy, and I have a feeling he's really interested. Which he hasn't been, in anything, in a really long time. The fact that he's even letting you come out, that's pretty big for him right now."

"I've been pushing too," Nick admitted. "But I think probably I've been pushing in different ways than you guys did. Just cause I don't know him like you do, you know? And I didn't know... I didn't know, really, what was going on with him. Maybe it's more forgivable in me, since he knows I don't know things. Do you think? It's... it's so frustrating, you know? I just want to see him smile and be happy and enjoy what he's doing. Enjoy *me*. But it's like he doesn't have the faintest idea how to do that."

Joey snorted. "I don't think he even *wants* to be happy any more. Either that or he's forgotten what it feels like, or how to get there. But happiness is contagious, y'know? I don't think he'd be willing to have you visit if it didn't deep down make him feel a whole lot better than he has been in a while, seeing you. And, shit, Nick. I know this is a lot to dump on you. You probably had no idea when you picked him up that this is what you were in foor, huh? And I'd totally understand if you just walked away at this point."

"He picked me up, actually," said Nick. "Or, we picked each other up. Something." It would be really easy to walk away, to just continue to lie here on his beach in his corner of the world and not care about anyone else. But then he wouldn't have Justin, and he'd have to live with the weight of what he'd abandoned on his conscience. And that wouldn't make him happy. "I don't want to walk away," he added finally. "I don't want to walk away from this, Joey. He's fucked up, but I really like him anyway. I want him to be happy. too. And I think, inside, he really wants to be. Like, more than anything."

Joey breathed, and it sounded very much like relief. "Well, thank god," he said with disarming sincerity. "You're the first thing he's shown an interest in besides that fucking tour and the gym in three months. He even gave Trace his Escalade. If he really does want to be happy, he's sure not doing a good job of showing it. It's that fucking tunnel vision of his; he fixates on one thing, and god help anyone that tries to change that focus. But if he gets distracted, everything gets much less intense. I'm not gonna lie, here, I'm kinda hoping that's what you'll do."

"Distract him?" said Nick, with a wry grin. "Well, at least I know I'm good for something. It's really scary, what you're telling me, Joey. But I've been through a lot of scary shit. We all have. I think I can handle this. And I don't really plan on telling him we talked, by the way. Something tells me there's not much that'll get him to shut down faster than to think I have an agenda. Which I don't, really, except that I want to have fun with him. But I don't want to give him any reason to think otherwise."

"Yeah, no," Joey agreed quickly. "I think it's probably a good idea to keep this under our hats, so to speak. If he thinks people are ganging up on him, or conspiring against him--that's what he accused me and Chris of--he'll disappear." He chuckled a little, though it wasn't really humor. "Yeah, we've all been through some shit, but nothin' as scary as this, not to me. Every time the fuckin' phone rings in the middle of the night..." He trailed off. "Anyway. I love the kid, and I'm glad you two are, whatever it is you are. Seems like a good thing, to me."

"I like it," admitted Nick, a bit shyly now, since it was pretty awkward circumstances for him to be telling Joey about him. "Probably no secret that I've been crushing on him for, like, a long time, without any idea I'd have a chance to do something about it. Love him, hate him, it's all real complicated in our world, huh?" He scooped up a handful of sand and let it trickle down over his belly. "I'll try to keep him safe, Joey. I promise."

"I know you will, kiddo." Joey's voice was warm. "You've always been good people, Carter. Just remember...you're not responsible for his happiness, really, or his life, or any decisions he might make. You can only do what you can do, and the rest's up to him. Took me a long time to figure that one out. But I'm glad you finally got to do something about that crush." His tone got a little teasing lilt. "The two of you showin' off for each other all over that basketball court was really the highlight of the game for most of the rest of us, y'know. Nice to finally see some follow-through."

"Got a therapist of my own, who taught me that stuff," Nick confessed to him. "About how to be my own person, not about the basketball game. I figured *that* bit out, all on my own." He even blushed, thinking about it. He hadn't thought he'd been that obvious, even when his own guys teased him. He'd never even imagined about Justin. "Never thought he would... well, obviously I was wrong about that. Happily. I know that all I can do is all I can do, Joey. I just hope it's enough."

"Me too," Joey agreed softly. "And dude, call me if you need anything or just get overwhelmed or whatever. Or just wanna talk. Do you think you're gonna be seeing him soon? I'll tell you right now, if you don't go shortly, I'm taking a flight out tomorrow. When he told me about signing the truck over to Trace, man, that was just about it for me. And Chris won't go near him right now. JC, forget about it, and Lance is taping right now."

Nick wished he hadn't been so blind, wished he'd realized just what was going on and how serious it really was. It wasn't just Justin being too driven, it was Justin burning right out. "I'm gonna go tomorrow," he said. "No, tonight. I know where he is, I'm just going to show up. I told him I might do that anyway. I don't need to be here, I can reschedule things. I know where I need to be."

"Yeah?" Joey's voice sounded so relieved Nick blinked. "You're really gonna? Because if you can't, I'm gonna put the baby in a sling and get intercontinental with her. Oh, man, that's another thing. Remind him about Briahna, would you? If you can? She misses her Uncle Justin something fierce, and he's a complete sap for her, and, y'know, it would be nice if he was around to see her grow up. And don't forget, call me if you need *anything*."

"I'll need your number," Nick reminded him, wishing he had something to write it down with, since he was talking on the phone which made the whole programming a number into it somewhat more awkward. "I will, I'll tell him those things and anything else that I think of that might help. Including how much I really, really want to jump his bones. I should... I need to pack, and book a flight, and cancel a couple things."

"A'right, dude," Joey said, chuckling a little. "You be sure to tell him that bones-jumping thing. Lucky little fucker, Justin is. I called you, so my number should be on your caller ID, but if not, anyone on Justin's tour should have the number, and I'll let Jive know to let you have anything you want when you ask, in terms of contact info. And Nick? Don't let him cut that tie with you, okay? Even if he seems to want nothing more? He's only got a couple left."

"I've been pretty stubborn about that so far," Nick assured him, running his fingers through the sand again. It was hot, and almost burned him. "I think I can keep that up. I've been refusing to let him get away. I think... I think maybe he likes that. A little. Even though he would never say. So yeah... aye aye and all that. I'll be in touch, Joey. And thank you."

"Thank YOU," Joey insised, and signed off with "go do your stuff, Carter. I'll talk to you later. Bye." It was kind of like Nick's ears kept ringing with his voice a long time after the line had disconnected, though, all those things Joey'd said and the things he'd probably left out, all still spinning around in Nick's mind. Finally, he sighed, and dug his feet into the sand, casting a last wistful look at the sunstruck ocean. He wondered if it was *still* raining where Justin was.

* * *

Nick spotted Jim in the lobby and gave him a little wave. He really probably should've called Justin first and told him he was coming, but he was worried that Justin would come up with some reason why it wan't a good time and so he just hopped a flight and showed up, glad he knew where Justin was. Even gladder that if he hadn't known, he could now just call up Jive and find out.

"Hey," he said, hoisting his bag up over his shoulder. He hadn't brought much with him. "Long time no see." Jim didn't look at all displeased to see Nick there.

"Mr. Carter." Jim actually almost smiled at him, Nick thought. "I don't think Mr. Timberlake is expecting you?" It wasn't really a question, and he didn't wait for an answer. "If you'd like to follow me, I believe he's currently in a meeting with the stage design crew. Something about the rotating platform, I think. But if you want to come with me, I'm sure he'll be thrilled to see you." He indicated the long hallway with one hand. "Did you bring your own security with you?"

Nick shook his head, looking back behind him anyway, just in case there was someone there. "It was kind of a spur of the moment trip," he admitted, and gave Jim a winning smile. "I missed him," he said, hoisting his bag again. It was heavy, despite the sparse contents. "I'd hate to interrupt him if he's busy, though." Of course, he would be thrilled to interrupt Justin while he was busy.

"I think if you wanna see him at all you'd better get used to the idea of interrupting while he's busy," Jim said, dry as a bone, and led the way down the corridor. "Are you checked in? Would you like me to take care of arrangements, while you're, ah, reuniting? That meeting's gone on for two hours, now, I have a feeling it's going to be over soon, interrupted or not." He looked at Nick out of the corner of his eye. "Mr. Fatone mentioned you might come," he said, much more quietly. "You need anything, let me know."

Nick gave him a little smile and nodded his head, just slightly. "Thank you," he said. "I haven't checked in or anything, I only just walked in the door. If someone could take care of that... that would be really helpful. And now... I'll go make a spectacle of myself and interrupt a meeting that Justin probably desperately needs a break from."

Jim nodded firmly, gave him a thumbs up, and headed back down the hallway. As Nick turned to the door, he heard Justin's voice rising inside, sounding controlled and tense and very frustrated. "No," he said tightly, "we are NOT going to add three numbers to the podium. I can already barely get through one without kicking a dancer off. And that's final." A babble of other voices rose to answer him.

Nick knocked lightly, then opened the door without waiting for an answer. "Hey, sorry to interrupt," he lied, slipping inside. "I was just looking for Justin. Hey, Justin." And he waved.

Justin stared at him, and a split second of pure amazed pleasure flashed across his face, before the mask dropped again. "Nick," he said, clearly buffaloed. From around the table, four other faces stared at Nick in disbelief. "Oh my god." Justin finally smiled. "What the fuck are you doing here, dawg?" He stood up and came around the table towards Nick, ignoring everyone else.

Nick gave him a little shrug, and he was *sure* his own pleasure was showing. "Missed you," he said simply. "Wasn't so busy. Figued I'd come and keep you company for a while."

"Yeah?" Justin grinned at him, but with a little edge to it this time. He drew Nick into a manly one-armed hug, slapping his shoulder, then pushing him off and looking him over. "You tan motherfucker, look at you. I hope you brought some sunshine with you. Dude, listen, I've gotta." He looked around at the table, at the people sitting there silently, and sighed. "I gotta finish this. If I'd known you were coming, I'd've tried to reschedule..."

"Oh?" said Nick, looking around at the other people in the room. "Actually, I was told you guys were just wrapping up, or I never would've come in. Weren't you guys just about done?" And he was addressing everyone else, then.

One older man opened his mouth, then caught Nick's eye, and must have read something there he didn't like, because he shut it again. "Yeah, I guess," he said grudgingly. "Justin, we'll pick this up later. C'mon, we still have to get the specs for that second set of hydraulics." He led the way out of the room, leaving Justin shaking his head and grinning.

"I haven't seen a room clear that fast since Briahna got out of diapers," he commented mildly, though his eyes watched Nick carefully.

Nick shrugged and turned his smile back on. "I heard you guys were in here for an awful long while," said Nick easily. "They were probably hungry. Or maybe they had to take a piss. Whenever I have to go into a meeting for more than, like, half an hour? I have to take a bathroom break, without fail. The guys laugh at me for it. So hey, how are you doing? It's GREAT to see you."

"I'm doin' all right," Justin said, still mild as a spring morning. He drifted around the table, keeping half an eye on Nick as he did. "It's pretty fantastic to see you, too. I wasn't expectin' you for a month, about." He eased closer. "Something must've really crawled up your shorts to get you off your beach, huh?" Nick froze, suddenly worried, but at that moment Justin pounced, grabbing him and swinging him into a chair, straddling his lap before Nick had a chance to blink. "Miss me?" Justin asked brightly.

"LIke crazy," said Nick, planting both his hands on Justin's ass. "Once I got the idea in my head, you wouldn't believe how fast I was on that plane. So... we alone in here for a while, you think?"

"It would probably be a good idea to lock the door," Justin mused, not moving an inch, propping his arms on Nick's shoulders and peering down at him. "Why? Whatcha got in mind?" He grinned teasingly, but underneath it all Nick could still sense Justin's honest pleasure at his company.

Nick rolled his hips upward, and he was definitely already hard. He was hard before he even got in the room, even though that wasn't the point of coming. Justin just did that to him. And if it was working, to get Justin to connect with him, he was quite happy to go with it.

"I think you know exactly what I have in mind," he murmured. "Maybe you'll even get what you really want from me, this visit."

Justin blinked at him, mouth a little open just as it at fallen when Nick's hips hit the top of their roll. He licked his lips. "Maybe. Maybe," he finally said, before pulling back a little. "And maybe we should do this somewhere that isn't the conference room, huh? I've got a room at this hotel and everything, y'know." He leaned in and kissed Nick, quick and featherlight, before sitting back on his thighs.

Nick wasn't satisfied with just that as a kiss, though. especially not after he'd come all this way. He moved one of his hands to the back of Justin's's neck and held him in a deep kiss for a long, long time. "Okay," he said finally when he came up for air. "We can go to your room now, if you want."

"Oh, we can, huh?" Justin sounded a little breathless, and he was hanging onto Nick's neck now like he sort of needed the support, but he sat back quickly and dragged the back of one hand over his mouth. "Nice to have your permission, Carter. You always this bossy?" Justin's eyes were bright, though, and his mouth kept trying to smile.

Nick gave him a quick kiss. "You can't fool me," he teased. "You like me when I'm a little bossy. In bed. And speaking of... shall we go find one? Before I have you flat on your back on this floor?"

"Yeahyeah," Justin muttered, pretending irritation. He climbed off Nick's chair slow and careful, like parts of his body hurt him, though he was quick enough to tug Nick to his feet. "Did you get a room for yourself, or is this totally fly by night, here? I'm on the fifth floor, that's security's favorite this tour." He shrugged. "Me, I still think it's too close to the teenagers on the ground. Someday I'll wake up with 'em scratching at the windows."

"I'm pretty sure the teenies haven't learned to scale walls yet," said Nick, but as soon as that was out of his mouth, he wasn't entirely sure. Never put anything past the screaming teenagers. "I might have a room. I'm not sure. I ran into Jim on the way in... he said he'd look into it for me. I didn't book anything, though, no. Kinda thought I might already have a bed to slip into. Maybe."

"Jim'll handle it right," Justin nodded, glancing at Nick with what looked like a little discomfort. "You got a spot with me, sure, but, um. Well, you know what a touring schedule's like. You might wanna have your own bed, if you want any sleep at all." Justin nodded at the bodyguard at the end of the corridor, and punched the button for the elevator just as his phone started to ring. "Oh, goddamnit."

"Whoever it is, you're busy," said Nick, giving Justin a suggestive smile. "i'm sure I'll find plenty of time to sleep. I'd like to be in your bed with you as often as possible. And other places with you, too. But right now? Mostly in bed with you."

Justin was clearly torn, glancing from Nick to his phone, but he finally went for it, snapping it open and turning away from Nick with a muttered "yo?" He listened silently for a long moment, nodding. "Okay. Okay, okay. No. I can't--I, an hour? Hour and a half, minimum. No. No. Okay. Yeah, later." He snapped the phone shut with a sigh. "We've got an hour and a half. Doesn't seem like very long." He leaned a shoulder on the wall, and sighed again.

"I'll take it," said Nick quickly, snapping up what time he was offering, and planning to stretch it as much as he could. "And after an hour and a half, you aren't gonna want to go anywhere, believe me."

Justin rolled his eyes a little, but didn't argue the point. He was standing like the wall was holding him up, and when the elevator arrived he pushed off heavily and let Nick enter first, then leaned against the wall again. "I already don't wanna to anywhere," he muttered, flashing Nick a little smile. "Bed, you, that sounds pretty fuckin' amazing." He swallowed a yawn. "So, tell me about the beach, yo."

"If you don't want to be anywhere," said Nick, "then someone else can take care of whatever you got going on in an hour and a half. Cause I intend to keep you a while. Though man... every time I went to the beach since I talked to you I thought about you being there with me. All sunny and warm and peaceful. Like my favourite place in the world. Wish we were there."

"Me too," Justin agreed, with a little smile. Looking at him, Nick thought he'd never seen someone so in need of a tan and a nap. "One of the messages you left on my voicemail, I could hear waves, dude. It made me pretty freakin' jealous, I tell you." The elevator slid to a stop, and Justin led the way down the hall, nodding at the security guards. "I still can't believe you're here. And not lounging around on the sand somewhere. You did notice it's still raining here?"

"Yeah, it was kind of hard to miss," Nick had to admit. "And it didn't occur to me to bring an umbrella. But hey, I had my time on the beach and I decided I'd rather be with you. And if you can't be on my beach just yet, well, I'll just have to be here. I was hoping for some good sex, but hell Justin, right now I think I'd be happy to just lie with you and watch you sleep for a while."

"Well, THAT sounds boring for you," Justin chuckled a little. "I'm kind of hoping for some of that good sex myself, I gotta say." He tugged Nick into the huge bedroom suite and shut the door gently behind him. "If you're sleepy, jetlag or whatever, you can stay when I gotta go." His smile got suggestive, and he reached out and trailed his fingers down Nick's arm.

"I bet if we try hard enough, we can stay busy for the entire hour and a half." The look he sent towards the bed, though, said more about exhaustion and less about arousal.

"Watching you sleep wouldn't be boring," Nick insisted. Anything to do something about the drawn look of Justin's face. "I'd just ravish you a little while you were unconcious. You wouldn't mind, right? I promise to be gentle... We'll have lots of other changes to have wild and crazy sex, after all. It's not like I'm going anywhere."

"I definitely want to be awake for the ravishing," Justin grinned, sinking to a seat on the bed and tugging Nick to stand between his knees. "I don't have time to be unconscious right now, not if I wanna get to blow you again. I really liked that, y'know." He leaned forward and nipped playfully at Nick's hip, just beside his jeans pocket. Then he leaned his forehead against Nick's belly, and sighed.

Nick sighed, too, but he also smiled. "Okay," he said, nudging at Justin until he fell onto his back on the bed. "Naptime. I'm a bit jetlagged anyway." He didn't feel jetlagged, but Justin didn't need to know that. "You can always blow me tomorrow, you know. It'll give me something to look forward to." He dropped his bag and kicked off his shoes and stretched out on the bed next to Justin.

Justin made an incoherent little sound of protest, but didn't move much once Nick had settled in. He toed off his shoes too, and curled up on his side. "I wasn't tired till you got here and wrecked all my focus," he complained sleepily. "Momentum. Gotta keep the momentum." He tucked his face against Nick's shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Mmm. Coconuts and sand," he mumbled. "You smell like the beach. Don't lemmee sleep more than fifteen minutes, okay?"

Nick suspected he wouldn't wake him up for at least two hours, and then only if someone else insisted. As soon as Justin was asleep, that cell phone was being turned off. If someone really needed Justin, there were other channels to get to him.

"Okay," he said anyway, wrapping an arm around Justin's body and keeping him as safe as he could. "Sleepy baby. Talk to you soon, Justin."

"Baby, pfft," Justin sniffed, but he was clearly already so close to sleep he was barely forming words. "Haffanhourmaybe, 'kay." His legs slowly uncurled until he was stretched all along Nick's side, and he took one more deep breath and went completely limp. Nick couldn't help pressing a quick, soft kiss on his forehead, before starting to feel around gently for that damned cell phone.

Not only did he turn it off, he hid the damn thing -- in a spot where he could later claim the phone had just somehow fallen -- and double checked the door to the room to make sure it was locked. Only then did he rejoin Justin on the bed, Justin who was now sleeping so soundly he didn't even notice, and stretch out and close his own eyes.

***

Maybe he *had* been jetlagged, was Nick's first groggy thought when the pounding on the door woke him up. Or at least travel-tired, because his body was telling him he'd been sleeping for quite some time. Someone--Justin! Nick suddenly remembered--was a heavy weight beside him, legs tangled together. The pounding on the door was joined by a loud voice calling Justin's name, and Justin didn't so much as twitch. His slow, steady breathing didn't change.

Nick sure did, though, detangling himself and bounding off the bed to answer the door, grateful to realize halfway there that he was still fully dressed, if barefoot. Maybe it wasn't such a hot idea for him to answer the door, but it was him or Justin, and given that choice, there was no choice at all.

"Shhhh!" he hissed as he opened it. "What is it, what do you want?"

A small, intense woman on the other side of the door blinked up at him, hand still raised to knock. Behind her, a security guard hovered, disapproval radiating from him, though not, Nick thought, directed at Nick.

"What the hell are you doing here," she asked blankly, "and where's Justin? He's missed half the interview already, and the wardrobe people are screaming for him, and his mother's flipping out because he's not answering his phone."

"Justin's really not feeling well," he said gravely, looking back towards the bed but still blocking the door. There was no way she was coming in. "I'm making sure he gets some rest. I was a little worried he might even lose his *voice*--" And he put definitely emphasis on that word. "--but I think if he gets enough of a break, he'll be fine. You want me to help you reschedule for a better time, or do you have that covered already?"

"We've got a doctor with us, if Justin's voice is in any danger," she snapped back at him, starting to frown. "And I'm afraid it's really not possible to reschedule the meeting with wardrobe, it's about the costume changes for this evening's show. He's already shot the interview all to shit, we're trying to reschedule them, but really...Justin's not usually this irresponsible." She glared at him, clearly blaming him. She checked the clipboard in her hand. "He won't thank you for throwing off his schedule like this."

"And I'm sorry, who the hell are you?" Nick snapped right back. "I don't suppose you thought to schedule any time for him to rest? No? I'm not surprised, he looked like shit when I got here. What can you possibly be working on with wardrobe at this last minute that isn't just a rehash of what he already knows? I think I'll let him sleep a while longer, if it's all the same to you."

"*He's* the one who makes the schedule," she bit out. "And he hired me to make sure he's keeping it. No one gets to touch anything about the show without his personal okay, and why the fuck do you care anyway?" The guard was now looking blankfaced, in that suffused way that Nick recognized as firmly suppressed humor. "Look, just wake him up and ask him. It's my ass if he doesn't want to sleep through this stuff, and does anyway."

"Just blame me," Nick said simply, "because he's not getting up until he absolutely has to and that's my final word on the subject. Hell, I'll tell him myself when he gets up. Clearly it was just an oversight in the scheduling. So let's not do this whole arguing thing because I'm going to win. Now. What can we do about rescheduling things? Oh, and--" He looked past her, to the security personnel, and let a ghost of a smile cross his face. "Could someone do me a favour and give Justin's mother a call and tell her that Justin's fine and he's just resting his voice, doctor's orders? Thanks."

"An oversight--" she said, sounding strangled, but then just shook her head and threw up one hand in defeat, as the bodyguard gave Nick a subtle thumbs-up. "Fine. Just tell me how much of his schedule I'm going to have to cross off for today, since you're playing guard dog. The voice resting thing'll work, I guess. It's two now, he absolutely must be at the arena by five for the soundcheck. Or are we postponing the concert, too?" Her voice was dripping with sickly-sweet sarcasm.

"Wow, do you think we could get away with that?" asked Nick, raising an eyebrow at her as though he was taking that seriously. "Okay, so five o'clock then, that should work out fine. And you and I should get together sometime so that I can make sure he hasn't made any other... oversights, in his schedule. Best to know more than a few minutes ahead of time, don't you think?"

She waved her hand at him in vague acknowledgement, already going for her cell phone as she turned away from the door. "Ms. Harless? It's Amy. Listen, I don't know if you know this, but..." Her voice disappeared as she turned the corner, and Nick was left staring at the nameless security guard, who shrugged at him.

"If he slept through *that*, he probably needed it," the guard opined, before heading off after Amy.

Once he had a moment to think about it, Nick knew that Justin would probably be at least a little mad at him when he got up. But he also realized that he didn't care, that this was worth it. If Justin wasn't going to take care of himself then someone had to make him realize that he needed to. Justin needed that sleep more than he needed anything else right now, and Nick was the one who was going to make sure he got it.

He slipped back inside the hotel room and relocked the door.

Justin had spread into the warm spot he'd left, a pillow tucked under one arm and the other reaching towards the edge of the bed. He was frowning in his sleep, brows drawn down like he was worried about something, and as Nick neared the bed again his eyes cracked open just a sliver. He spotted Nick and smiled slowly, sleepily, and hummed wordlessly.

"Hey," said Nick softly, crawling back up onto the bed, in the space that was left. "You can go back to sleep, man, I'm here and everything is okay." He yawned himself, and thought sleep maybe wasn't such a bad idea. He wasn't sure how much *he* was going to be getting in the near future, if he was going to be busy running interference.

"Mmm-mm," Justin made a negative sound, blinking at him and slowly coming awake. "nnmoresleepin'. God." He stretched luxuriously, arching his back and pressing his hands flat against the wall above the bed, and when he relaxed out of it there was finally someone home behind his eyes. "I think I gotta nap hangover, or something. Hey, Nicky. You stayed, huh?" He sat up and scrubbed his hands over his face.

"Course I stayed," said Nick, giving him a grin. "Where else am I gonna go? You sure you don't want to go back to sleep? You got time, you know. No sense waking up before you have to, unless you're hungry or you have to go to the bathroom. You hungry? I can order us something..."

"Mmm, no," Justin said, voice still a little sluggish. "Don'wanna waste our time, y'know? Cause I *know* you let me oversleep some. I can tell, and I'm not hungry." He stretched again, then, in a slow fold, slipped down until he was draped over Nick's body, his skin hot and damp from sleeping. "Not hungry for food, anyway," he amended, sounding a little smug as he moved his mouth against Nick's throat.

"You slept as much as you needed to," Nick corrected him, but he didn't want to go into any more detail than that. "And isn't this so much more fun when you're not ready to drop at any second? I think so anyway." His arms tightened around Justin's back and he sought out his lips to kiss him again and again.

Justin really did seem to let go, when he was being kissed; he lost the stiff wariness and actually seemed to be seeking out pleasure, twisting in Nick's arms until he was exactly where he wanted to be, changing the angle of the kiss. Maybe it was the odd fluttery drowsiness that sometimes hit after a nap, but he also seemed to be getting very desperate, very quickly. In moments he'd straddled Nick's thigh, and his hands were buried under Nick's shirt, fingers stroking his sides.

Nick was pretty hot for it, too, he had to admit. He'd spent every day since the one Justin had left thinking about the next time they would get to do something together. Among other things, too, because he wasn't a total dog. Nick let go of him just long enough to strip his own shirt off over his head, and start on Justin's. "Want you," he said, as though Justin didn't already know that.

"Too," Justin agreed fervently, raising his arms to let Nick pull off his shirt. It looked like Justin had been spending some time thinking about this too, since he showed no hesitation at all in touching Nick all over. His palms slipped down over Nick's ribs, to his hips, back up again as Justin rolled sideways so he could reach Nick's chest, fingers tracing the tattoos there. And the whole time he never stopped kissing Nick frantically, sucking on his tongue and keeping their mouths fused together tightly.

If Nick had been the one who'd just woken up, he would have been all lazy, letting the other person do all the work. In this, at least, he was glad Justin was nothing like him. "Pants, too," he insisted. "Someone's getting up inside someone soon, I mean it, and I don't much care which one's which..."

That startled a little huff of laughter out of Justin, gave him a second's pause before those busy hands were down between them, yanking at Nick's zipper. "Me," he breathed against Nick's cheek. "Do me, please? An' this time I won't say nothing dumb before, a'right?" Before Nick could more than breathe, Justin was kicking out of his own pants, and had Nick's down around his knees, and was back pressed skin-to-skin with him.

"Okay," said Nick, and there was really no reason at all to say no to doing Justin right now. "Just let me... I gotta...." He pulled away, but explained quickly. "I want lube, this time. I'm doing it right. Even if there's not much point to a condom." There had to be something in the bathroom and, after almost tripping over his pants, kicked them all the way off and dashed over to find something, anything, to ease the passage.

"Hurry," Justin demanded from the bed, and Nick rolled his eyes as he stared around the huge bathroom. Shampoo, four kinds of conditioner, contact stuff, none of that was good, and then he saw the lotion, perfect. Grabbed it and ran, and Justin was waiting for him, all sprawled out and staring at the ceiling, arms and legs so long he almost reached the corners of the big bed. He tipped his head and smiled at Nick. "Well. You waiting for a written invitation or something?"

"Why do I get the feeling you might even send one, if I said it was necessary?" said Nick as he crawled back up again, comfortably and cozily between Justin's legs. "Mmmm, this is nice. I think I might just stay here for a while. Set up house.

Justin giggled, eyes bright, and brought one knee up to rub along Nick's side. "I think you might get hungry," he pointed out. "An' probably bored. I've got meetings and shows to go to, you know. But you can stay right there all you want, as long as I'm here." Justin's cock was definitely eager, lying slim and very hard against his belly, and his leg was almost pulling Nick closer. Only his hands showed a little nervousness, clenched like they were in the sheets.

"Oh, I don't think I'll get hungry," said Nick, licking his lips. "Plenty I want to get a taste of, right here." But that wasn't what Justin had asked for, even if Nick knew they had plenty of time for both. He was still kind of hoping Justin might sleep for another hour or so, afterwards. Maybe he would if Nick did this right. He held up the lotion and danced it in the air a little and grinned at Justin. "Look what I've got," he sing-songed. "I think I'm just about ready for you now."

"Yeah?" Justin challenged him, grinning. "You're ready for this?" He spread his arms and arched his back a little, but the effect was kind of ruined by the way his legs were trembling. "C'mon c'mon," he breathed, when Nick made no move. "Don't tease, Nick."

Nick didn't rush it, not with Justin looking like that, whether it was nervousness or anticipation. He had time to do it right, and he had a lot to make up for. "Breathe," he murmured, and bent over an planted tiny, light kisses on Justin's stomach. "I'll be in there soon."

"Mmph," Justin muttered, stomach quivering under Nick's kisses. Nick felt a tentative touch on his head, then long fingers carding through his hair and cradling his temple, and Justin relaxed a little and started breathing. His knee bent again, and he hooked his ankle around Nick's hip, fingers twisting as Nick licked around his navel. "Oh my god," he whispered. "This is even better than I remember."

Music to Nick's ears. While still peppering Justin with kisses, he opened the lotion and slicked up his fingers, ready for when the moment came, and it felt right to slide one of them, two of them, more, into Justin's body. Before the main event. "You smell good," he said, licking Justin's hip and inhaling deeply. "I love this."

"Me too," Justin said faintly, starting to squirm under Nick's attention. "I'm, um, remember what you said about participating last time? I'm not really doing any of that, you're just lickin' all up on me. Should I be doing something here?" His hips shimmied slightly, invitingly, and his hands tugged a little in Nick's hair.

"Nah," said Nick, looking up just to grin at him. "You're participating plenty, believe me. The only thing to do is maybe spread your legs a little wider, and we're golden." Justin did, and Nick reached in and toyed at his hole with a fingertip, without penetrating.

"Fuck," Justin whispered, soft and almost reverent. His body twitched again, but this time it looked more like a reflex and less like a calculated move. His hands fell away from Nick's hair and knotted tightly in the sheets again, and he lifted his hips eagerly towards Nick's hand. "Oh man. Come on. This *can't* feel as good as I remember it feeling."

"You like this an awful lot, don't you," said Nick softly, not expecting an answer. Not needing one. Timberlake was a natural bottom, and that wasn't really much of a surprise. "All you have to do is let me make you feel good, Justin." And the finger went inside -- just to the first knuckle, turn, then the rest of the way. Justin was tight again, but Nick knew that wouldn't last long.

Justin chucklegasped, clenching around Nick's finger and spreading his knees even further. "I can do that," he breathed, slowly relaxing a little. "It already feels so good." His voice was almost a croon, and when Nick glanced up his eyes had fallen almost closed, his mouth a little open and cheeks flushed. "NickNickNick..."

Nick was learned to really love the way Justin said his name, all hot and needy. "It'll feel even better in a minute," he promised, working the finger carefully and getting a full range of responses out of Justin, from gasps to moans to squeaks. "Just working up to the moment when I can just slide right inside..."

Justin shivered at that, twisting down on his fingers and letting go of the bedspread to cover his mouth with one hand. His eyes, now wide and all pupil, never left Nick's face, and he'd gone soft and slick inside. "I think you can do that now," he suggested in a strangled voice. "I think now would be good. Sooner the better. Ohmygod."

"Mmm, another finger first," insisted Nick, but the second finger slid in *so* easily. Justin wasn't kidding about being ready. Just a few more moments, a tiny bit more stretching, and "Okay, God, Yes, Now," Nick said, wanting to be in there almost as much as Justin seemed to want him to be. Out went the fingers and he slicked himself up and then gently, so gently, making up for last time, he spread Justin's legs and lifted his hips and he was *there*, pushing inside.

Justin sucked in a huge breath and held it, eyes huge on Nick's as his hips surged forward and he slid in to the hilt. It was tight, tight, tight, and so hot it felt like Nick was burning up. "Oh," Justin said on a thread of air, still not breathing. "Oh, that's so. It's. I can't." He reached down and grabbed Nick's hip in one big hand, fingers digging deep and hanging on desperately.

"Yeah," Nick agreed, with all of it, shifting his hips and just resting inside the comfort of Justin's body. The body that felt like it just grabbed him and pulled him in and wanted him to stay forever. But that only lasted a moment, and then he couldn't bear not to move, pushing further inside, pulling out, pushing in again. One hand gripping Justin's knee, body leaning in, so far in, so the other could grasp Justin's arm. "Yeah."

Justin came out of his shocked stillness and started to move with him, body lifting to meet Nick's and catching the rythym flawlessly. They were linked, hand and arm and hip and body, and Justin was making little sounds at the deepest part of every thrust, and he gave Nick a dazed little smile. "Yeah," he echoed quietly, giving his hips a tiny twist that made Nick's brain short out.

This was how it should have been since the beginning, their rocky beginning, and this was how Nick wanted it to be from now one, because he couldn't think of a moment when he'd connected with someone so easily in bed, so quickly. He smiled back at Justin and leaned even further forward, to the limit of both his and Justin's flexibility, he guessed, and gave him a quick kiss as he pushed in just as far as he could possibly go.

Justin's mouth opened wordlessly, and then his head fell back to the pillow and easily, silently, as gracefully as he did most things, he was coming, despite the complete surprise in his own eyes. Nick felt it wet against his belly as Justin's hands slid up his arms and fisted his hair, tugging it gently. The little flutters of Justin's muscles around Nick, and the way Justin's hips seemed to melt and go fluid under him, the expression on Justin's face, it was all almost too much.

Just a little more, just a couple more thrusts, just a few more moments in the tight heat of Justin and yes, there it was, right... THERE. Nick sighed as he came, relief and joy and just pleasure all over. At where he was and who he was with and what they were doing. When he was able, when his back wasn't arched and his muscles weren't tight, Nick leaned in and kissed him again.

Justin kissed him back languidly, eyes still closed as his legs slipped down from where they'd been wrapped around Nick's back. "Wow," he said, a hint of laughter in his voice. "Jesus, Nick, I had no idea. None." His hands drifted aimlessly over Nick's skin, scratching and petting a little, keeping them pressed close together. "I think we're gonna have to do that again soon."

"Any time," Nick offered, without a second thought. Justin wanted to do that again on stage in the middle of his show tonight? Sure, no problem. "S'how it should've been before. How it will be next time." He didn't want to move yet, despite the fact that softening inside Justin's body was testing the limits of what he could bear. So, so sensitive. "Jus' wanna lay here a while..."

"Yeah," Justin agreed sleepily, fortunately still so relaxed that he was putting no internal pressure on Nick at all. "It'll be like that next time, huh? God, I dunno if I can take it." He pushed his face against Nick and just breathed for a long moment, before shaking himself a little. "I should probably get up, huh? I don't..." He looked around, confused. "What time is it?"

Nick hesitately, wanting a little afterglow before they had this coversation, before he remembered how upset he was at Justin for what he was doing to himself. "It's a little after two," he said finally. "Don't worry, I talked to Amy, we rescheduled a couple things. Everyone wanted you to be in good shape for your show tonight, since that's the most important thing of all."

Justin just blinked at him for a long moment, clearly unable to process that, and then he slowly turned to stone in Nick's arms. "You...it's...WHAT?" He was staring at Nick, eyes narrow, starting to breathe quickly, before he forcibly calmed himself, face going blank. "It's okay, it's okay, he doesn't know better," he muttered to himself, starting to wiggle away from Nick. "I can reschedule that, I can do that interview tomorrow before the gym. Wardrobe'll be freaking out. I've gotta..."

"No," said Nick firmly. "No, Justin, no. The only thing you gotta do is listen to me for a minute. You are DEAD TIRED. I could see it from the moment I laid eyes on you in the meeting today, if I hadn't already figured it out form talking to you on the phone. You've completely overextended yourself. I saw the schedule, Justin, I saw it when I talked to Amy, and it's worse than anything Lou ever forced onto us. Now." He was not letting Justin up, not yet, not until they'd talke dabout this. "Things have already been rescheduled. Amy has taken care of it, she's talked to the people who needed talking to. All you have to do right now is relax until you have to leave for soundcheck. And maybe explain to me what the hell you think you're doing."

"I am *not* fourteen any more, and this schedule is not that bad," Justin hissed at him, sitting bolt upright. "You think I can relax when I know I have five thousand people freaking out because I'm missing interviews and appointments and meetings? RELAX? I'll tell you what I'm doing, I'm touring, successfully, and I'm getting all my shit done and taken care of. Everyone gets tired on tour, Nick, you know this. And who the hell are you to make that decision for me anyway? You're not my mother, you're not my wife, you're not even in my BAND!"

"I'm your FRIEND," Nick hissed back. "And maybe the only one you've got right now if no one else has said to your face that you're going to fucking kill yourself if you try to keep up with this pace. And more than that? If you try to do everything you have on that schedule? You're going to give SHIT performances, Justin. You're going to do terrible on stage because you're wasting so much time doing everything else. You think I don't know about this shit, Justin? I KNOW. Five thousand people are NOT freaking out, because it's already been taken care of. Believe if or not, there are competent people in this world besides you."

"I never give shit performances," Justin said, in the monotone of the furiously angry. "NEVER. And you know something? I'm not...okay, I'm tired. I'm always tired. But I still give 100% out there, and I can't believe you'd think I'd screw the fans like that, give them shit to listen to." His hands were shaking, clenched in his lap. "Competent people? Fuck competent people. I do it BETTER. There'll be plenty of time to rest when I'm dead, and till then I'm gonna be the best I can be, and if that means I get a little tired, well, that's life! You KNOW that's tour life."

"No, Justin," said Nick, as calmly as he could. He couldn't back down now. "Tour like is tiring, but it's tiring because you're doing what you need to, and giving your all on stage. You're doing five times what you need to, offstage, things that could just as easily be taken care of without you." He grabbed one of Justin's hands and held it, tight, wouldn't let him pull away. "A hundred percent when you're exhausted is not the same as a hundred percent when you're not, and I can't believe you don't know that, Justin. You've been doing this long enough to know that. You've been doing this plenty long enough to know that you take your rest when you can and you LET people do things for you. And THAT'S tour life."

"I do take my rest when I can," Justin protested, twisting his fingers under Nick's, not meeting his eyes. "I swear to god, Nick, I'm getting at least five hours a night, and my performance is the best it can be." At that, he looked straight at Nick, who could see that he sincerely believed at least that last part, and that he was still sincerely furious. "I'm never tired on stage. I always give my best show, and it hasn't slipped. You're overreacting."

"I'm not overreacting," insisted Nick. "I also don't plan to do this to you every day. Justin, you just passed out cold for hours, and didn't even wake up when there were some awfully loud noises around you. You needed the sleep, absolutely and unquestionably. If you want to be a performer -- and I KNOW you do, everyone knows you are -- then be that, and leave the petty shit to someone else. It's not worth it. It's not worth what it does to you."

Justin shrugged, shoulders drooping, the fight seeming to leak out of him. "I am a performer. The rest of the shit don't matter, except that it affects the fans and my show, and I can't let someone else do it and maybe fuck it up. Who cares, anyway, if I'm a little tired? It's not *doing* anything to me but making me tired, and I've never heard of tired being fatal. Yeah, I needed sleep today, but I woulda made it without it." He slowly sank back against the pillows, and closed his eyes, lips twitching into a wry smile. "I guess there's nothing I can do about those missed meetings now, huh?"

"Nope," said Nick cheerfully. "Everything that needed to be rescheduled has been rescheduled. Everything else has been taken care of by someone capable. Justin, seriously, you CAN let someone else do it for you. And if you want to confirm everything in the end, okay, no one's gonna stop you. But let someone else do the work. Burnout can fuck you up, Justin. Worry about giving fans the best show you can perform, that's your job. That's your real job here. That and keeping me sexed up, because damn. That was incredible."

Justin's eyebrows lifted a little, and the dimple in his cheek deepened, but he didn't open his eyes. "Should I delegate that too, d'you think? I mean, since you're all about me not straining myself." His voice was lightly mocking. "Burnout isn't gonna fuck me up, hasn't yet, won't. Someone else DOES do most of the work around here, in case you hadn't noticed. I've just got approval and veto power, and if you think I'm giving that up, you're crazier than I thought you were." He laced his fingers through Nick's. "It's just me, now. Solo. And I gotta take responsibility."

"Taking responsibility isn't the same as trying to tackle the whole thing yourself," Nick pointed out gently. "If the joy of performing is lost in the details, there's no point anymore. I showed up here and you looked terrible Justin. I mean... you looked *great*, but you looked exhausted. You're just so... driven, you know? You could burn yourself out if you don't have someone like me watching you back. Or your ass. Or something like that. Mmm, nice ass."

That startled a little chuckle out of Justin, and he shook his head, still with his eyes closed. "One track mind," he murmured, but he didn't sound unhappy about it. "So you wanna, what? Come on tour with me as my nanny? I don't need a keeper, Nick, and driven's just the way I'm made. If I slow down I might not get started again, so just... let it go, okay? You weaseled me a nap today, and that's a pretty neat trick. I'll even take this little break. I'm not insane, y'know, I like sleep as much as the next guy, but no more cancelling things behind my back, or I swear, I'll scream at you like you've never heard before."

"Okay," said Nick agreeably. "I'll just fight you on some of them instead, then. Because yes, okay, I know there's a lot of shit you need to be doing. But not all of it. And you know I just didn't want to wake you up, Justin. You were so tired, and so pretty when you're sleeping. You were supposed to sleep right up until you had to leave for soundcheck, but... well, I can't say what actually happened was so bad either. I don't want to be your keeper, Justin, I just want to be your friend. Or whatever. Um. Speaking of, Amy's probably gonna ask you what the hell I was doing in your room. Probably."

Justin shrugged minimally, yawning a little. "Whatever. It ain't her business, and I got no problem telling her that. And I don't mind missing a little sleep for some fantastic sex. I figure it's a trade-off that I actually win, for once." He turned on his side, so that he was facing Nick, still bare as the day he was born but at least with his eyes open now. "How long are you staying, anyway? You just here for the night, or can you stay a couple of days?"

"Well," said Nick, stretching out and finally relaxing again now that the storm seemed to have died down, "I was planning on *staying* staying," he admitted. "For, like, a while. If you'll have me. I rearranged my own stuff back home so I could."

Justin looked at him evenly. "I meant it when I told you I don't need a nanny." His voice was cool. "This tour's the most important thing right now, nothing can come in front of it, in terms of priorities." He lifted one shoulder. "You can stay if you want, but I'm gonna be awful busy, and probably a pain in the ass, and I'm gonna ignore you a lot. And I won't fall in love with you." That last was said in the same even tone as the rest, but there was a kind of desperate determination in the set of Justin's mouth and the expression in his eyes.

Nick shrugged, as thought he was indifferent. When he was anything but, especially after that. Justin spooked so damn easily, though. "I'm just staying for the sex," he said candidly. Anything else on his agenda, Justin just didn't need to know. "And maybe to give my brain a fresh perspective when I'm writing stuff. And if I get to sleep next to you, and get to be reassured that you ARE sleeping? Well, that's just a bonus."

Justin looked slightly nonplussed, then completely relieved, and even smiled at Nick. "Okay, good," he said, voice lightening noticeably. "Fuckbuddies I can handle, and it'll be good, having you around, man." Justin slapped his shoulder lightly, a friendly gesture. "We're gonna have to get past this obsession you have with sleeping, though. I can tell it's gonna get in the way of having as much sex as we can while you're here."

"You're sexy when you sleep," Nick protested, nuzzling his neck instead of giving him a buddy-buddy gesture in return. "You're also sexy when you've just woken up. And really sexy when you have enough energy to *have* sex. Which, naturally, is the real reason I want to make sure you're resting up enough. Wouldn't do at all to have your body give out halfway through." If this was what worked, then this was what worked. It wasn't exactly a sacrifice to be forced to have a lot of sex with Justin Timberlake.

Justin actually giggled as Nick's mouth brushed his neck, squirmed away, and pushed him off a little too hard, then looked apologetic. "Uh, sorry," he said, tugging Nick back by the hand. "I'm not used to, y'know. Guy, in bed, naked, sexy, all that stuff." His eyes, intent on Nick's face, got a little gleam. "You know, there's still stuff I haven't tried. I've got--" he peered over the edge of his bed. "Shit, I don't remember where I put it. The Joy Of Gay Sex? Anyway, there's some cool looking shit in there."

"You do *not*," laughed Nick, glancing around quickly for the book. "Do you? Really? Cause... okay, I've never seen The Joy of Gay Sex. But I've probably done most of it. So, you know, just say the word and we can try some stuff out. You know, whenever you can find the free time, seeing as how you'd rather be in boring old meetings than having sex with me..."

Justin tilted his head noncommittally. "It's what I've got to do," he said simply. "Gotta make sure everything's in order. But believe me, we'll find *some* time. And you can spend some of all that free time you'll have reading my book." He grinned a little. "There's bound to be stuff in there even you haven't done, and then you can try to guess which ones I really want to do."

"Control freak," Nick muttered, but he didn't want to argue anymore, he was already so tired of hearing Justin say that, so tired of trying to drag things out of him. Justin's therapist needed to earn his fucking pay and make things better. "Well, I'll sure thumb through it to get some ideas. Maybe someplace conspicuous, get people talking about me. Need to do *some*thing for entertainment after all."

"Nick!" Justin was laughing, half-scandalized and half-amused. "God, the crew would just LOVE that. Neither of us'd ever hear the end of it." He went serious. "You wouldn't really, would you?" His eyes searched Nick's face, apprehensive. "I really don't need more rumors right now, seriously, and that...if you're gonna be in my room sometimes..." He started chewing a thumbnail. "Maybe you SHOULD just stay in your own room."

"No, no, no," said Nick quickly, "I was kidding. I think I can find something to do that's not read The Joy Of Gay Sex in public. Funny as that would be. I've managed to go the last twenty-odd years of my life without doing it, I think I can handle it a little longer. It would make even LESS sense if I was never staying in your room with you. People would wonder what the hell I was doing here if I wasn't hanging out with you."

Justin eyed Nick sideways, warily. "You think so?" He sounded doubtful. "Oh well. I guess I don't care, they can talk all they want. We're buddies, we've known each other for ages. Pharrell stays with me when he's visiting, and it's never been a deal." He clearly dismissed it, and dropped his hand from his mouth, reaching for Nick before drawing his hand back. "You," he said thoughtfully, still looking at Nick. "Are gonna be very distracting, I think. I don't know if I like that."

"Oh, you like it," Nick teased him, sensing the smile lurking behind Justin's serious facade. "You know you like it. Because you know exactly what you get in return. And you know... I'm not just talking about the sex either. But... it's, like, not my plan to be all in your way. I just wanted to be here with you. I like you, we have fun."

"We do," Justin agreed, letting that smile free, and reaching for Nick again. "And I like you too, I do. So, you know, mellow and casual and stuff, and we should be just fine." He bumped his shoulder against Nick's softly. "I'm glad you came, man. Even if you did get me in some pretty deep shit this afternoon. Guess I should take advantage of the time that shit's gonna buy me, since I'm already gonna be eating it. Might as well enjoy the time." He slid down further in the bed, stretching luxuriously.

"I fought of this time," said Nick quietly. But not particularly softly, even though he was smiling and drifting toward Justin again. "So yes, enjoy it. Oh, and if anyone brings it up, you were resting your voice for tonight's performance. After all... you'd do anything to give your fans the best show you possible can."

Justin pulled a face at him, but let him get closer. "You fought for it, but I'll pay for it," he sighed, leaning closer to Nick as the mattress dipped under his weight. "Resting my voice, hah. Thanks for thinking up an excuse, but my voice is probably in the best shape of any of me, right now." Nick, looking at the way Justin's skin pulled tightly over muscle and bone, thought that might be debatable.

"Well," said Nick finally. "You may know that, and I may know that, but your voice is what *they* are going to be worried about, and so it makes a convenient excuse when you need some time to rest the rest of you. No voice, no show. And believe me, Justin, any blame from anyone who matters, about this, is going to fall squarely on my shoulders. And I'm pretty okay with that; I did what needed to be done." He leaned in again and kissed Justin's nose. "You should sleep for another hour or something. So I get my money's worth."

Justin wrinkled his nose at the kiss, but was smiling a little. "You're a guest, Nick," he pointed out. "Nobody's gonna holler at you. Well, nobody's really gonna holler at me either, but I'll get looks. And since I hate that, I better make good use of this time." He settled in more comfortably on the pillows, but there was tension humming in the line of his shoulders. "I don't think I can sleep more," he said consideringly. "Not when my brain's going a hundred miles an hour like this."

Nick couldn't really argue with that one, even if he wanted to. "Well, at least you got a good bunch already. You look a hundred times better, between that and, you know, the sex. You should sneak a nap in every afternoon, it makes you all radiant and happy looking and stuff. Except when you're mad at me. And still, at least then you have some colour."

Justin rolled his eyes. "You're crazy, you know that? Radiant? And only a crazy person would think I looked good when I was about to smack 'em one." He moved restlessly, clearly completely out of the habit of sitting still. "There's some paperwork I could do," he said thoughtfully. "That way it's out of the way and I don't have to think about it tonight. But I should shower, too. And there's that wardrobe thing..."

"Justin, no," said Nick firmly, wrapping his fingers around Justin's arm and holding him close again. "Well... maybe the shower, but not yet. What good is having some nice, relaxing free time if you fill it with other crap? Now just take a deep breath, and make out with me some more. Yeah?" He would probably relent on the paperwork too, eventually, but not just yet. And only if it was something Justin himself really did need to take care of.

Justin kicked at him lightly, more in token protest than anything else. "You know, this mommy routine isn't making me want to make out with you," he complained, though he didn't pull away from Nick and in fact curled in a little closer. "Nice, relaxing free time is MADE to be filled with other crap. You're a pain in the ass." He softened his words by leaning in for a long, slow, wet kiss.

"Yeah, well, someone has to be," murmured Nick in the space where Justin took a breath. "Or you'd just work yourself into the grave, and what fun would that be?" He wrapped his hand around the back of Justin's neck and kept kissing him, because when they were kissing, Justin couldn't be doing anything else. And it was really nice, to have all of Justin's attention on *him*.

"Well, at least it would be quiet," Justin muttered into Nick's mouth, words fuzzy and indistinct. They weren't touching anywhere but their mouths, and Nick's hand on Justin's neck, and the kiss was slow and lazy and warm, and seemed to go on forever. Justin's hand came to rest on Nick's hip, finally, just a light touch, and he pulled away to breathe. He rested his forehead against Nick's, eyes closed, smiling a little. "We can't do much more of this, or I'm gonna want to go again."

"And we want you to be able to dance tonight," Nick said solemnly. "Which, since you're all new to this guy-on-guy thing, you'll have a little trouble with if we go again. Oh, hey, but I could go down on you, though. You want?"

Justin's eyes lit up. "Oh, hey, yeah. Yeah? You would?" The hand tightened on Nick's hip. "I think I dance *better* after blowjobs," he mused, as parts of his body got actively interested in the whole idea. "It's relaxing or something. And then I can do you back, I think I'm getting better. The book had some really good tips."

Nick tried to keep his grin to himself. It was still so... well, kinda sweet, that Justin had busied himself with reading up on it. If a little bit dysfunctional. "That sounds like a great idea. And that can be my job on the tour: Give Justin Timberlake blowjobs before performances. Do you think they'd make me up and ID badge with that on it?"

"If we asked 'em, I bet they would," Justin answered solemnly. "Except I don't think it would fit. We might have to shrink it down to 'BJ Administrator' or something, but either way you'd get backstage with it for sure." He scratched lightly at Nick's belly, drawing his attention downwards. "It would definitely be an all access pass," he teased, voice silky.

Nick laughed softly and grabbed Justin's hand, and this was definitely more like it. "Like you would ever give me that pass," he teased. "Though... be nice if I could get something made up, maybe, so I don't have to pass all my time hanging out in your hotel room. Nice as it is. It's not as much fun when you're not in it..." He let go of Justin's hand, let his own drift further down.

"Like anyone's gonna tell you you can't go somewhere?" Justin snorted. "You're not exactly some anonymous guy off the street, Mister Backstreet Boy. But if it'll make you feel better, I'll have someone make you up a backstage pass. You'll probably have more fun hanging out in the city, though. Except for the performances, my days are pretty seriously boring." He pushed his hips into Nick's touch, skin flushing warmly and his pupils going big and dark.

"Well, I'd feel a bit more comfortable being legitimate," said Nick, looking up to smile at him even as the rest of his body was moving *down*. "Otherwise people might think I'm stalking you or something. I'd hate to have to spend the night in some foreign holding cell, waiting for you to get ahold of someone to tell them I'm your BJ administrator."

"They--oh, Nick--they wouldn't arrest you," Justin argued, breath suddenly coming quicker and harder. "They'd probably just boot you out of backstage, politely, cause you never know when you're gonna end up working for the other band." He grinned down at Nick, reaching with both hands to cradle his face. "And believe me, I wouldn't let 'em boot you for long. I have a feeling having my own BJ administrator around is gonna be awful nice."

"Yeah, it's a nice perk, huh?" said Nick, giving him a little lick. "And you don't even have to pay me or nothing. You just have to put up with me being around all the time. I don't think they really woulda arrested me." Lick, lick. "But it would've been kinda funny getting out of it if they tried."

Justin threaded his fingers gently into Nick's hair, that kneading motion that Nick was starting to recognize as one of Justin's pleasure signs. "I would've bailed you out," he murmured, distracted. "They wouldn't have anyway, but if they had I would have gotten you out right away. N-n-no worries." Justin's voice trailed off in a series of gasps as Nick finally opened his mouth and took Justin in.

Nick didn't have much else to say that he couldn't just *show* Justin more easily. Things about how he really wasn't planning on going anywhere, that he'd set his own life aside and made it his mission to make Justin happy again. And probably do more than a little for himself in the process.

He planted his hand firmly on Justin's hips and swallowed him down as far as he could. Which, for Nick, was a long, long way.

Justin made a sound Nick had never heard before, and arched up to him beautifully, no urgency in the way his hips moved. He'd just come, so he was breathing slow and deep and steady, and his body was moving in languid counterpoint to Nick's tongue. He was melting under Nick's skill, and it was amazing to see. When he came, it was with hardly a sound, just another little sigh and a shiver. Nick glanced up, and Justin was smiling like a cat with cream, looking down at him. "What a view."

Nick took his sweet time about swallowing, about sucking Justin clean and sliding his lips off again. Not just to prolong Justin's view, but because he loved the feeling of Justin in his mouth, hard or soft. He gave him a few last licks, right at the tip, then slid up just enough to give him a tender kiss on the stomach. Tenderness which Justin may have claimed he didn't want, but that he basked in when Nick offered it to him.

In fact, Justin giggled a little foolishly and curled up like he was being tickled, but didn't move so much as an inch away from Nick's touch. He scrunched down under Nick, looping his arms around Nick's waist and raising his face for a kiss. Justin kissed, like he did everything, with great intensity and concentration, and when he rolled, Nick went with him, ending up on his back with a faintly triumphant Justin over him.

"Now it's my turn." He sounded very satisfied, eager even. "Any last requests?"

Nick just shook his head and grinning and stole another kiss from Justin while he still could. "Just make me proud, baby," he teased, and let his head fall back on the bed and blew him a kiss. Justin was a big ol' bottom, Nick figured, but even the biggest bottoms liked to be on top sometimes. "I know you can."

Justin's eyes widened at the challenge, his mouth firmed, and he nodded. "You're damn straight I can. I've just gotta." He wrapped his fingers around Nick's cock, almost like he was measuring it, and slipped down Nick's body like he'd been doing it for years. He still handled Nick like he was something new and strange, though, and that tiny bit of hesitation was almost unbearably sexy. Then he visibly steeled himself, licked his lips, and slowly sank down.

Nick thought it was too much at first, that Justin wouldn't be able to handle it, but he did. He did. And the thought crossed his mind that Justin had to have been practicing this on something -- not him, but something. And that, too, was pretty fucking sexy. "Mmmm," he said, a unspecific noise of pleasure and desire. "Justin."

"Hmmm?" Justin peeked up at him curiously, then when Nick just kept making noises, he went back to his job, face still and focused as he worked his tongue. In the brief remaining flash of clarity Nick had, he realized that someone had told Justin about the alphabet-with-tongue trick, and he almost laughed. Then Justin took him impossibly deeper, and he forgot all about laughing.

"Don't..." he tried to say. Don't choke, don't stop, don't something. But it came out as some sort of strangled sound and it didn't seem that important to say after that anyway. Because Justin wasn't -- choking OR stopping -- and Nick was pretty happy with the direction things were going. "Yeah....fuck." He was still more sensitive than usual, having already come once, and not really that long ago, and Justin's tongue felt incredible.

Deep deep suction, and Justin's tongue working hard, and then suddenly Justin was across the bed, wiping frantically at his mouth. His face was pale, his eyes big on Nick's startled face.

"Dude." His voice was low and shocked. "I just realized, your...was all up in my...and there's...can I get sick from that? Is this like, a done thing?" He looked like he wasn't sure whether he should laugh or be completely horrified.

Nick tried not to laugh himself, but he ended up letting out a little chuckle anyway. "It's not like I didn't clean up, Justin," he assured him. "Okay, so maybe it wasn't a *stellar* clean-up job, what with me never really leaving the bed and having to use my shorts, but don't you think you would've, you know, *tasted* something by now, if there was? I'm pretty sure you'll be fine."

Justin still looked deeply suspicious, and scowled at Nick's chuckle. He inched back towards Nick, though, and at least didn't look quite so appalled. "Like I know what dick's supposed to taste like," he grumbled. "I've only had one in my mouth one time before, y'know, and all I could taste that time was rum anyway." He reached out and wrapped his fingers around Nick's cock, still wet from his mouth, and stroked it.

"But if it was gross, you'd know," Nick assured him again. And hoped that all dick didn't taste gross to him, because that could seriously hamper their relationship. He pushed forward into Justin's touch and smiled, but didn't laugh anymore. "I may totally get into this," he said after a moment, "but I wouldn't let you do something that, like, 'isn't done', without saying something first."

"I kinda figured," Justin admitted, a small grin quirking his mouth. "The thought just hit me suddenly, and I kinda spazzed. I've been with people who were pretty into stuff that I wouldn't have thought was 'done,' but they didn't think twice about it, so I guess that's why." He shrugged slightly, and leaned down to kiss the very tip of Nick's cock. He grinned up at Nick, delighted, when the kiss made Nick's hips jerk uncontrollably.

"Well, despite what I've shown you in the past," said Nick, staring down at him, unable to tear his eyes away, "I'm pretty considerate in bed. I think. Now... um. Again? Cause having your lips on my dick is, like, one of life's greatest pleasures."

Justin grinned even wider at that, clearly pleased at the compliment, and dipped his head again, just a teasing little kiss to the tip that made Nick shiver. Then he opened his mouth a tiny bit, and used his hand to push the head inside past his lips, watching Nick all the while. Whatever he saw on Nick's face must have pleased him, because he flushed and hummed softly in pleasure.

Justin *had* to know what he looked like, doing that. All debauched and wanton, face flushed, lips pink and stretched open by Nick's cock. Even if he didn't know what it *felt* like -- which itself was pretty damn good -- he *knew* how good he looked, in any situation. "You can..." began Nick, then didn't finish the sentence because it could have been anything. He would let Justin try out anything he liked.

Justin's eyelashes fluttered down to touch his cheeks as he gave himself up to the job, slowly taking more of Nick inside until Nick could feel the head bumping the back of Justin's throat. Justin didn't choke, amazingly enough, and in fact just sucked harder, his face a mix of pleasure and determination. When his hand snuck down between Nick's legs, Nick almost came off the bed.

He let out a sharp sound, surprise and pleasure and... surprise, and spread his legs apart to let Justin handle what he liked. No sense being shy about anything *now*; whatever Justin was comfortable enough to do was great for Nick. After all, this was about making Justin happy. And about getting a blowjob. Nick wasn't about to forget about getting a blowjob.

Justin's finger was hesitant, just sort of poking around like he wasn't really sure what he was looking for. It brushed the sensitive skin behind Nick's balls at the same moment his tongue swept across the tip of his cock, and Nick had to close his eyes and grit his teeth to keep from swearing at the sensation. He had to open them almost immediately, though, because the sight of Justin peeking up at him to gauge his reactions was too precious to miss.

Justin had checked out his own body, so he obviously knew what felt good and what didn't, even if he'd never done it to someone else before. So Nick was sure -- *sure* -- suddenly that Justin knew exactly how the way he was touching Nick would affect him. And Nick appreciated it. He bit his lips and pressed his heels into the bed and lifted up a little, just for encouragement. Just in case Justin wasn't sure what to do next.

Justin ignored the hint and cupped his balls, rolling them in his palm as he sucked even harder. He was rocking a little now, getting into it and concentrating, using his hand when it was needed to help him out, and it was heat and wet and warm and pressure and Nick's heel *thumped* into the bedspread under the force of the sensations he was feeling. Justin dragged his tongue up the big vein in the underside, all the way up to the head, and Nick's insides melted and he was coming. Justin screwed his eyes shut and Nick could feel the muscles in his mouth move as he swallowed.

It was just so intense, his whole body quivering, and Justin had no right to be *that* good after just a few books and no practical experience. It wasn't fair. Except, since Nick was on the receiving end of the goodness, he supposed it might be fair after all. "Justin," he whispered, and reached down and stroked his cheek, almost feeling himself still inside. "Wow."

Justin licked him clean gingerly, and then withdrew, rubbing the back of his hand across his lips. He turned his face closer to Nick's hand for a moment before folding down to the bed, cheek pillowed on Nick's tummy.

"I think that must be an aquired taste," he finally said, a little muzzily. "But it was better this time, right?"

"It was really great, Justin," Nick assured him, still breathless even though he hadn't been the one doing the work. "Really great. Maybe I *should* take a look at those books you brought, if that's what they teach you. I'll, uh, work on the taste, I guess. For next time."

"You can do that?" Justin sounded mildly curious. "Oh, right, I remember reading about that in Cosmo one time. Like, eating honey and stuff makes it taste sweet, right?" He licked his teeth, thoughtfully. "It wasn't bad or anything. Just kinda strange. You can borrow my book any time, but it's not like *you* need the pointers." He wrapped a hand around Nick's leg just above his knee, and hung on.

"Well, no," said Nick, grinning down at him. "But you never know when you might pick up something new. And I promise not to eat any, like asparagus or anything like that. As long as you don't either. If I'm going to be your BJ Administrator, I get to make requests like that. And I know you're not eating crap on tour, so vile vegetables are probably my only concern."

"You know, I've gotten a lot of blow jobs in my life, and not once did I stop to think what my jizz tastes like?" Justin was speaking into Nick's stomach, his breath fanning hot over Nick's skin. He sounded drowsy and thoughtful. "I guess it's different when you're the one getting a load in your mouth, or at least, it makes you think. Yeah, no, my dietician has me on this lean meat low carb high folic acid diet or something, it's supposed to reduce stress." Nick could feel the shrug more than see it.

"I think the blowjobs will be a better way to reduce stress," said Nick, running his fingers through Justin's short, short hair. "Did you know that eating too few carbs can really fuck up your moods? It's true. Carbs actually reduce stress, and proteins jack you up. I should know. I think you should go on the blowjob diet, though. All blowjobs, all the time. And maybe some fruit and honey in between."

Justin snorted a little laugh. "I don't think my nutritionist would go for that," he pointed out dryly. "I'm already on some sick number of calories a day, like over 4,000 and I'm still getting skinnier, and I don't think I could live through blowing you enough times to get that many calories." He rolled to his side and propped himself on one elbow, but was careful, Nick saw, not to move out of reach of his petting. "I don't think she'll mind the occasional supplement, though."

"Well, we don't have to share *everything* you're consuming with her, right? Because I really don't know how we'd measure..." Nick got lost in thinking about it for a moment, and started to laugh. "No, that would definitely be a bad idea. I think I'd rather we were both swallowing right from the source, it's a lot more fun that way. You think you could use some, uh, supplements before you shows? Because I'd be happy to provide them..."

Justin grinned at him, even more relaxed and contented-looking than he'd been after *Nick* had blown *him*. "I think it would be good for my energy level," he said seriously. "I could make it part of the regimen. Stretch, go over the set list, blow Nick, warm up voice, pray, go onstage. And no, I don't think I'll be sharing this particular supplement with my staff, if it's all the same to you." He flopped back onto the bed with a sigh.

"Well, it's okay if you share, as long as you don't *share*," Nick teased him. "There's just not that much of me to go around. Probably a good idea to do the blowing before the warming up of the voice. Would hate for you to have to do that all over again, after all, with so little time at your disposal." He moved his hand down from Justin's hair to his shoulders, then down his back. "You're so warm."

"Mmm," Justin hummed. "B-Britney always used to say it was like sleeping with a space heater." His voice was perfectly level, his face turned away. "The guys just said I had a freakish metabolism and usually kicked me off couches in the summertime. I dunno." He scootched a little closer to Nick, putting more of himself into reach. "I've got another hour, right? Maybe that nap--*more* nap--isn't such a bad idea."

"I think more nap is a fantastic idea," said Nick, stretching himself out to his full length next to Justin and wrapping an arm around him. "I don't mind the heat. Sleep till soundcheck, okay? And then give 'em all a kickass show like I know you will."

Justin made a skeptical sound. "I thought you said I was gonna perform like crap," he said, a little waspish through the weariness in his voice. "And don't think this means you're gonna be able to tell me what to do from now on, a'right? It just makes sense to grab some z's now, since the deed's already done and the time's been taken." He turned under Nick's arm until his cheek was resting on Nick, and yawned so ridiculously wide that Nick could see his tonsils.

"I said you were gonna perform like crap if you didn't let yourself rest," murmured Nick back to stroking his warm skin again. "You let yourself rest, ergo, you're going to be fantasic." When Justin settled in again, Nick gave him a brief, soft kiss on the lips. "I'll be seeing you soon, sweet prince."

"Sweet prince, my ass," Justin mumbled, but kissed him back, clumsy and unaimed because his eyes were closed tight. "I'll never sleep tonight, this nap's gonna fuck my sleep schedule all up." Despite all his protestations, though, Justin was clearly so close to being asleep that it made no real difference.

Nick had no doubt at all that once Justin had wound down from the show and whatever afterparty he was required to make an appearance at, he'd sleep like a fucking baby for as long as his schedule would allow. And Nick would leave that schedule alone for now, but the next time he saw Justin looking as terrible as he had when Nick had arrived, he was going to do the exact same thing again and make no apologies for it. Some things were just that important.

"Yes, sweet prince," he murmured, and kissed him one last time, but Justin was already gone.

* * *

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